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This event had the effect, apparently, of causing the Council to forget our friends Black and Ramblin' Peter for a time, for they were left in the Tolbooth for about three weeks after that, whereat Andrew was much pleased, for it gave his maimed limb time to recover. As Peter remarked gravely, "it's an ill wund that blaws naebody guid!"
A robust and earnest nation cannot be subdued by persecution. The more the Council tyrannised over and trampled upon the liberties of the people of Scotland, the more resolutely did the leal-hearted and brave among them resist the oppressors. It is ever thus. It ever _should_ be thus; for while an individual man has a perfect right, if he chooses, to submit to tyranny on his own account, he has no right to stand tamely by and see gross oppression and cruelty exercised towards his family, and neighbours, and country. At least, if he does so, he earns for himself the character of an unpatriotic poltroon. True patriotism consists in a readiness to sacrifice one's-self to the national well-being. As far as things temporal are concerned, the records of the Scottish Covenanters prove incontestably that those long-tried men and women submitted with unexampled patience for full eight-and-twenty years to the spoiling of their goods and the ruin of their prospects; but when it came to be a question of submission to the capricious will of the King or loyalty to Jesus Christ, thousands of them chose the latter alternative, and many hundreds sealed their testimony with their blood.
When at last the question arose, "Shall we consent to the free preaching of the Gospel being suppressed altogether, or shall we a.s.sert our rights at the point of the sword?" there also arose very considerable difference of opinion among the Covenanters. Many of those who held the peace-at-almost-any-price principle, counselled submission. Others, such as Richard Cameron, Donald Cargill, and Thomas Douglas, who believed in the right of self-defence, and in such a text as "smite a scorner and the simple will beware," advocated the use of carnal weapons for _protection alone_, although, when driven to desperation, they were compelled to go further. Some of the ejected ministers, such as Blackadder and Welsh, professed to be undecided on this point, and leant to a more or less submissive course.
Matters were now hastening to a crisis. A lawless Government had forced a law-abiding people into the appearance, though not the reality, of rebellion. The bands of armed men who a.s.sembled at conventicles became so numerous as to have the appearance of an army. The council, exasperated and alarmed, sent forth more troops to disperse and suppress these, though they had been guilty of no act of positive hostility.
At this crisis, Cargill and his friends, the "ultra-Covenanters," as they were styled, resolved to publish to the world their "Testimony to the cause and truth which they defended, and against the sins and defections of the times." They chose the 29th of May for this purpose, that being the anniversary of the King's birth and restoration. Led by Robert Hamilton, a small party of them rode into the royal burgh of Rutherglen; and there, after burning various tyrannical Acts--as their adversaries had previously burnt the Covenants--they nailed to the cross a copy of what is now known as the Declaration of Rutherglen, in which all their grievances were set forth.
The news of this daring act spread like wildfire, and the notorious Graham of Claverhouse was sent to seize, kill, and destroy, all who took any part in this business. How Claverhouse went with his disciplined dragoons, seized John King, chaplain to Lord Cardross, with about fourteen other prisoners, in pa.s.sing through Hamilton, tied them in couples, drove them before the troops like sheep, attacked the Covenanters at Drumclog, received a thorough defeat from the undisciplined "rebels," who freed the prisoners, and sent the dragoons back completely routed to Glasgow, is matter of history.
While these stirring events were going on, our friend Andrew Black and Ramblin' Peter were languis.h.i.+ng in the unsavoury shades of the Tolbooth Prison.
One forenoon Andrew was awakened from an uneasy slumber. They bade him rise. His arms were bound with a rope, and he was led up the Canongate towards the well-remembered Council Chamber, in company with Ramblin'
Peter, who, owing to his size and youth, was not bound, but merely held in the grasp of one of the guards.
At the mouth of one of the numerous closes which lead down to the Cowgate and other parts of the old town stood Will Wallace, Quentin d.i.c.k, David Spence, and Jock Bruce, each armed with a heavy blackthorn.
Bruce had been warned by a friendly turnkey of what was pending--hence their opportune presence.
As soon as the prison party was opposite the close, the rescue party made a united rush--and the united rush of four such strapping fellows was worth seeing. So thought the crowd, and cheered. So thought not the City Guard, four of whom went down like ninepins. Black's bonds were cut and himself hurried down the close almost before the guard had recovered from the surprise. No doubt that guard was composed of brave men; but when they met two such lions in the mouth of the close as Wallace and Quentin--for these two turned at bay--they paused and levelled their pikes. Turning these aside like lightning the lions felled their two foremost adversaries. The two who followed them met a similar fate. Thinking that four were sufficient to block the entry, at least for a few moments, our heroes turned, unlionlike, and fled at a pace that soon left the enemy far behind.
This delay had given time to Black and his other friends to make good their retreat. Meanwhile Ramblin' Peter, taking advantage of the confusion, wrenched himself suddenly free from the guard who held him, and vanished down another close. The rescue having been effected, the party purposely scattered. Black's leg, however, prevented him from running fast. He therefore thought it best to double round a corner, and dash into a doorway, trusting to having been un.o.bserved. In this, however, he was mistaken. His enemies, indeed, saw him not, but Ramblin' Peter chanced to see him while at some distance off, and made for the same place of refuge.
Springing up a spiral stair, three steps at a time, Black did not stop till he gained the attics, and leaped through the open doorway of a garret, where he found an old woman wailing over a bed on which lay the corpse of a man with a coffin beside it.
"What want ye here?" demanded the old creature angrily.
"Wow! wumman, I'm hard pressed! They're at my heels!" said Black, looking anxiously at the skylight as if meditating a still higher flight.
"Are ye ane o' the persecuted remnant?" asked the woman in a changed tone.
"Ay, that am I."
"Hide, then, hide, man--haste ye!"
"Where?" asked the perplexed fugitive. "There," said the woman, removing the coffin lid. Andrew hesitated. Just then hurrying footsteps were heard on the stair. He hesitated no longer. Stepping into the coffin he lay down, and the woman covered him up.
"Oh, wumman!" said Black, lifting the lid a little, "tak' care ye dinna meddle wi' the screw-nails. They may--"
"Wheesht! Haud yer tongue!" growled the woman sharply, and reclosed the lid with a bang, just as Ramblin' Peter burst into the room.
"What want ye here, callant?"
Peter drew back in dismay.
"I'm lookin' for--I was thinkin'--Did 'ee see a man--?"
The lid of the coffin flew off as he spoke, and his master sprang out.
"Man, Peter," gasped the farmer, "yours is the sweetest voice I've heard for mony a day. I verily thocht I was doomed--but come awa', lad.
Thank 'ee kindly, auld wife, for the temporary accommodation."
The intruders left as abruptly as they had entered. That night the whole party was rea.s.sembled in Mrs. Black's residence in Candlemaker Row, where, over a supper "o' parritch an' soor mulk," Andrew Black heard from Jock Bruce all about the Declaration of Rutherglen, and the defeat of Claverhouse by the Covenanters at Drumclog.
"The thundercloods are gatherin'," said Black with a grave shake of the head, as the party broke up and were about to separate for the night.
"Tak' my word for 't, we'll hear mair o' this afore lang."
We need scarcely add that on this occasion Andrew was a true prophet.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
BOTHWELL BRIDGE.
Matters had now come to such a pa.s.s that it was no longer possible to defer the evil day of civil war.
Persecuted inhumanly and beyond endurance, with every natural avenue of redress closed, and flushed with recent victory, the Covenanters resolved not only to hold together for defensive purposes, but to take the initiative, push their advantage, and fight for civil and religious liberty. It was the old, old fight, which has convulsed the world probably since the days of Eden--the uprising of the persecuted many against the tyrannical few. In the confusions of a sin-stricken world, the conditions have been occasionally and partially reversed; but, for the most part, history's record tells of the abuse of power on the part of the few who possess it, and the resulting consequence that:--
"Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn--"
Until the down-trodden have turned at bay, and, like the French in 1793, have taken fearful vengeance, or, as in the case of the Covenanters at the time of which we write, have reaped only disaster and profounder woe.
There were, however, two elements of weakness among the Covenanters in 1679 which rendered all their efforts vain, despite the righteousness of their cause. One was that they were an undisciplined body, without appointed and experienced officers; while their leader, Robert Hamilton, was utterly unfitted by nature as well as training for a military command. The other weakness was, that the unhappy differences of opinion among them as to lines of duty, to which we have before referred, became more and more embittered, instead of being subordinated to the stern necessities of the hour.
The earnest men of G.o.d amongst them could no doubt have brought things to a better state in this crisis if their counsels had prevailed, but the men whose powers of endurance had at last given way were too many and strong for these; so that, instead of preparing for united action, the turbulent among them continued their dissensions until too late.
After Drumclog, Hamilton led his men to Glasgow to attack the enemy's headquarters there. He was repulsed, and then retired to Hamilton, where he formed a camp.
The Privy Council meanwhile called out the militia, and ordered all the heritors and freeholders to join with the Regulars in putting down the insurrection. A good many people from all quarters had joined the Covenanters after the success at Drumclog; but it is thought that their numbers never exceeded 4000. The army which prepared to meet them under the command of the Duke of Monmouth and Buccleuch was said to be 10,000 strong--among them were some of the best of the King's troops.
The Duke was anxious to delay matters, apparently with some hope of reconciliation. Many of the Covenanters were like-minded; and it is said that Mr. Welsh visited the royal camp in disguise, with a view to a peaceful solution; but the stern spirits in both camps rendered this impossible. Some from principle, others from prejudice, could not see their way to a compromise; while the unprincipled on either side "cried havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!"
It was on Sabbath the 22nd of June that the Duke's army reached Bothwell Moor; the advanced guards entering Bothwell town within a quarter of a mile of the bridge which spans the Clyde. The Covenanters lay encamped on Hamilton Moor, on the southern side of the river.
That morning a company of stalwart young men, coming from the direction of Edinburgh, had crossed Bothwell Bridge before the arrival of the royal army and joined the Covenanters. They were preceded by two men on horseback.
"It seems a daft-like thing," said one horseman to the other as they traversed the moor, "that the likes o' me should be ridin' to battle like a lord, insteed o' trudgin' wi' the men on futt; but, man, it's no'
easy to walk far efter wearin' a ticht-fittin' buit--though it was only for a wee while I had it on. It's a' verra weel for you, Wull, that's oor eleckit captain, an' can sit yer horse like a markis; but as for me, I'll slip aff an' fecht on my legs when it comes to that."
"There's no military law, Andrew, against fighting on foot," returned the captain, who, we need scarcely say, was Will Wallace; "but if you are well advised you'll stick to the saddle as long as you can. See, yonder seems to be the headquarters of the camp. We will report our arrival, and then see to breakfast."
"Ay--I'll be thankfu' for a bite o' somethin', for I'm fair famished; an' there's a proverb, I think, that says it's ill fechtin' on an emp'y stammack. It seems to me there's less order an' mair noise yonder than befits a camp o' serious men--specially on a Sabbath mornin'."
"The same thought occurred to myself," said Wallace. "Perhaps they have commenced the services, for you know there are several ministers among them."
"Mair like disputation than services," returned the farmer with a grave shake of his head.
Finding that Andrew was correct, and that the leaders of the little army were wasting the precious moments in irrelevant controversy, the Edinburgh contingent turned aside and set about preparing a hasty breakfast. This reinforcement included Quentin d.i.c.k, Jock Bruce, David Spence, and Ramblin' Peter; also Tam Chanter, Edward Gordon, and Alexander McCubine, who had been picked up on the march.
Of course, while breaking their fast they discussed the _pros_ and _cons_ of the situation freely.