He was immediately brought before the council, where his indictment was read by the chancellor, and he examined, which examination and answers thereunto being elsewhere[178] inserted at large, it may suffice here to observe, that being asked, if he thought the bishop's death murder? he told them, That he was not obliged to answer such questions; yet he would not call it so, but rather say, it was not murder. Being further asked, If he owned the king's authority, he replied, "That though he was not obliged to answer, yet as he was permitted to speak, he would say something to that; and 1st, That there could be no lawful authority but what was of God, and that no authority stated in a direct opposition to God could be of God, and that he knew of no authority nor justiciary this day in these nations, but what were in a direct opposition to God, and so could neither be of God nor lawful, and that their fruits were kything it, in that they were letting murderers, sorcerers, and such others at liberty from justice, and employing them in their service, and made it their whole work to oppress, kill and destroy the Lord's people." Bishop Paterson asked, "If ever Pilate and that judicature, who were direct enemies to Christ, were disowned by him as judges?" He said, "He would answer no perjured prelate in the nation." Paterson replied, "He could not be called perjured, since he never took that sacrilegious covenant." Mr. Hackston said, "That God would own that covenant, when none of them were to oppose it, &c." Notwithstanding these bold, free, and open answers, they threatened him with torture, but this he no-wise regarded.

Upon the 26th, he was again brought before the council, where he answered much to the same purpose as before. The chancellor said, He was a vicious man. He answered, That while he was so, he had been acceptable to him, but now when otherwise it was not so. He asked him, If he would yet own that cause with his blood, if at liberty?—He answered, That both their fathers had owned it with the hazard of their blood before him. Then he was called by all a murderer.—He answered, God should decide it betwixt them, to whom he referred it, who were most murderers in his sight, him or them. Bishop Paterson's brother, in conference, told him, That the whole council found that he was a man of great parts, and also of good birth. He said, That for his birth, he was related to the best of the kingdom, which he thought little of, and as for his parts, they were very small; yet he trusted so much to the goodness of that cause for which he was a prisoner, that if they would give God that justice, as to let his cause be disputed, he doubted not to plead it against all that speak against it.

Upon the 27, he was taken before the justiciary, where he declined the king's authority as an usurper of the prerogative of the Son of God, whereby he had involved the land in idolatry, perjury and other wickedness; and declined them as exercising under him the supreme power over the church, usurped from Jesus Christ, &c. and therefore durst not, with his own consent, sustain them as competent judges; but declined them as open and stated enemies to the living God, and competitors for his throne and power, belonging to him only.

On the 29, he was brought to his trial, where the council, in a most unprecedented manner, appointed the manner of his execution; for they well knew his judges would find him guilty. And upon Friday the 30th, being brought again before them, they asked, If he had any more to say.——He answered, What I have said I will seal. Then they told him, They had something to say to him; and commanded him to sit down and receive his sentence, which he did, but told them, They were all murderers; for all the power they had was derived from tyranny; and that these years bygone they had not only tyrannized over the church of God, but also grinded the faces of the poor, so that oppression, perjury and bloodshed were to be found in their skirts.

Upon this, he was carried from the bar on a hurdle drawn backwards, unto the place of execution at the cross of Edinburgh. None were suffered to be with him but two bailies, the executioner and his servants. He was permitted to pray to God Almighty but not to speak to the people. Being come upon the scaffold, his right hand was struck off, and a little after his left; which he endured with great firmness and constancy. The hangman being long in cutting off the right hand, he desired him to strike in the joint of the left, which being done, he was drawn up to the top of the gallows with a pully, and suffered to fall down a considerable way upon the lower scaffold three times with his whole weight, and then fixed at the top of the gallows. Then the executioner, with a large knife, cut open his breast, and pulled out his heart, before he was dead, for it moved when it fell on the scaffold. He then stuck his knife in it, and shewed it on all sides to the people, crying, Here is the heart of a traitor. At last, he threw it into a fire prepared for that purpose, and having quartered his body, his head was fixed on the Nether-bow; one of his quarters, with his hands at St. Andrews; another at Glasgow; a third at Leith; and the fourth at Bruntisland.——Thus fell this champion for the cause of Christ, a sacrifice unto prelatic fury, to gratify the lust and ambition of wicked and bloody men. Whether his courage, constancy or faithfulness had the pre-eminency it is hard to determine.—But his memory is still alive, and it is better to say no more of him, than either too much or too little.



The Life of ROBERT KER of Kersland, Esq.

Robert Ker of Kersland being born and educated in a very religious family, began early to discover more than an ordinary zeal for religion. But the first public appearance that we find he made for the cause, and interest of religion, was in the year 1666, about Nov. 26, when he, Caldwell and some others of the Renfrew gentlemen, gathered themselves together, and marched eastward to join Col. Wallace and that little handful who renewed the covenant at Lanerk. But, having heard that General Dalziel was, by that time got betwixt them and their friends, they were obliged to dismiss. But this could not escape the knowledge of the managers: for the laird of Blackstoun one of their own number, upon a promise of pardon, informed against the rest, and so redeemed his own neck by accusing his neighbour.—But of this he had nothing to boast of afterwards[179].

Kersland was after this, obliged to retire out of the way; and the next year he was forfeited in his life and fortune, and his estate given to Lieut. General Drummond of Cromlie, and his lands in Beith to William Blair of that ilk, which estate they unjustly held until the Revolution[180].

After this, to elude the storm, he thought fit to retire and go over to Holland; and there chose to live with his family at Utrecht;—where he had the advantage of hearing the gospel and other excellent conversation. In that place he continued near three years. But his friends thinking it necessary, that he should come home to settle some of his affairs, if possible, his lady returned home in the end of 1669, and himself soon followed: but to his unspeakable grief, he found, when he came to Edinburgh, that she was in a fever: She lodged in a woman's house who was a favourer of the sufferers. And though he lodged in a more private place, and only used to come in the evenings to visit his sick lady; yet one Cannon of Mardrogate, who had not yet altogether cast off the mask, at least his treachery and apostacy was not then discovered, got notice of it—He soon gave information to the Chancellor, and orders were procured from Lauderdale then in town, to search that house on pretence that Mr. John Welch was keeping conventicles in the Lady Kersland's chamber. But the design was for Kersland himself, as the sequel will declare. Accordingly, a party came, and finding no conventicle, were just going to retire. But one Murray[181] having particular notice from Mardrogate, that when any company came to the room, Kersland in the evening used to retire behind a bed; and having a torch in his hand, provided for that end, said, he behoved to search the room: and so went straight behind the bed and brought him out, charging him to render his arms. Kersland told him he had none but the Bible, which he had then in his hand; and that was enough to condemn him in these times.—At parting with his lady, she shewed much calmness and composure, exhorting him to do nothing that might wound his conscience out of regard to her or her children, and repeated that text of scripture, No man having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.

He was forthwith taken to the guard, and then to the Abbey; where a committee of the council, that same night, was gathered for his examination. When he was brought before them, they asked him concerning the lawfulness of the appearance at Pentland; which he, in plain terms, owned to be lawful, and what he thought duty.—Upon which he was immediately imprisoned. When going away, the Chancellor upbraided him with what passed betwixt him and his lady, which he suffered with much patience.

He was near three months prisoner in Edinburgh; and from thence sent to Dumbarton castle, where he continued near a year and a half. Then he was ordered for Aberdeen, where he was kept close prisoner without fire for three months space in the cold winter season.—From Aberdeen he was brought south to Stirling castle, where he continued some years; and then was, a second time, returned to Dumbarton, where he continued till October 1677. Then the council confined him to Irvine, and allowed him some time to transport himself and his family, then at Glasgow, into that place.

Coming to his family at Glasgow, he was visited by many friends and acquaintance: and the same night, convoying the Lady Caldwall and her daughter, he was taken by some of the guards, and kept in the guard house till next day; when the commanding officer would have dismissed him, but first he behoved to know the arch-bishop's pleasure, who immediately ordered him a close prisoner in the tolbooth. The arch-bishop took horse immediately for Edinburgh: Lady Kersland followed after, if possible, to prevent misinformation.—In the mean time, a fire breaking out in Glasgow, the tolbooth being in hazard, and the magistrates refusing to let out the prisoners, the well affected people of the town got long ladders and set the prisoners free, and Kersland amongst the rest, after he had been eight years prisoner. After the hurry was over, he inclined to have surrendered himself again prisoner; but hearing from his lady of the arch-bishop's design against him, he retired and absconded all that winter.[182] In the spring and summer following, he kept company with the persecuted ministers, and heard the gospel preached in the fields, and was at communions, particularly that at Maybole. About the beginning of harvest, 1678, he returned again to his old retiring place Utrecht, where he continued until the day of his death.

When near his departure, his dear acquaintance Sir Robert Hamilton being with him, and signifying to him that he might be spared as another Caleb to see the good land when the storm was over; to whom, amongst his last words, he said, "What is man before the Lord? yea, what is a nation? as the drop of a bucket, or the small dust in the balance: yea, less than nothing and vanity. But this much I can say in humility, that, through free grace, I have endeavoured to keep the post that God hath set me at. These fourteen years I have not desired to lift the one foot till the Lord shewed me where to set down the other." And so, in a few minutes, he finished his course with joy and fell asleep in Jesus, Nov. 14. 1680, leaving his wife and five children in a strange land.

It were superfluous to insist here upon the character of the thrice renowned Ker. It is evident to all, he was a man of a great mind, far above a servile and mercenary disposition.—He was, for a number of years, hurried from place to place, and guarded from prison to prison. He endured all this with undaunted courage.—He lost a good estate then for the cause of Christ: and, though he got not the martyrs crown, yet he beyond all doubt obtained the sufferers reward.



The Life of Mr. DONALD CARGIL.

Mr. Cargil seems to have been born sometime about the year 1610. He was eldest son to a most respected family in the parish of Rattray. After he had been sometime in the schools of Aberdeen, he went to St. Andrews, where having perfected his course of philosophy, his Father prest upon him much to study divinity, in order for the ministry; but he, through tenderness of spirit, constantly refused, telling his father, That the work of the ministry was too great a burden for his weak shoulders;—and requested to command to any other employment he pleased. But his father still continuing to urge him, he resolved to set apart a day of private fasting to seek the Lord's mind therein. And after much wrestling with the Lord by prayer, the third chapter of Ezekiel, and chiefly these words in the first verse (Son of man, eat this roll, and go speak unto the house of Israel), made a strong impression upon his mind, to that he durst no longer refuse his father's desire, but dedicated himself wholly unto that office.

After this, he got a call to the Barony church of Glasgow. It was so ordered by divine providence that the very first text the presbytery ordered him to preach upon, was these words in the third of Ezekiel (already mentioned) by which he was more confirmed that he had God's call to that parish. This parish had been long vacant, by reason that two ministers of the resolution party, viz. Messrs Young and Blair, had still opposed the settlement of such godly men as had been called by the people. But in reference to Mr. Cargil's call, they were, in God's providence, much bound up from their wonted opposition. Here Mr. Cargil perceiving the lightness and unconcerned behaviour of the people under the word, was much discouraged thereat, so that he resolved to return home and not accept the call; which when he was urged by some godly ministers not to do, and his reasons asked, he answered, They are a rebellious people. The ministers solicited him to stay, but in vain. But when the horse was drawn, and he just going to begin his journey, being in the house of Mr. Durham, when he had saluted several of his christian friends that came to see him take horse, as he was taking farewel of a certain godly woman, she said to him, "Sir, you have promised to preach on Thursday, and have you appointed a meal to a poor starving people, and will ye go away and not give it? if you do, the curse of God will go with you." This so moved him, that he durst not go away as he intended; but sitting down desired her and others to pray for him. So he remained and was settled in that parish, where he continued to exercise his ministry with great success, to the unspeakable satisfaction both of his own parish, and all the godly that heard and knew him, until that by the unhappy restoration of Charles II. prelacy was again restored.

Upon the 26th of May following, the day consecrated in commemoration of the said restoration, he had occasion to preach in his own church (it being his ordinary week-day's preaching) when he saw an unusual throng of people come to hear him, thinking he had preached in compliance with that solemnity. Upon entering the pulpit, he said, "We are not come here to keep this day upon the account for which others keep it. We thought once to have blessed the day, wherein the king came home again, but now we think we shall have reason to curse it, and if any of you be come here in order to the solemnizing of this day we desire you to remove." And enlarging upon these words in the 9th of Hosea, Rejoice not, O Israel, &c. he said, This is the first step of our going a-whoring from God; and whoever of the Lord's people this day are rejoicing, their joy will be like the crackling of thorns under a pot, it will soon be turned to mourning; he (meaning the king) will be the wofullest sight that ever the poor church of Scotland saw; wo, wo, wo unto him, his name shall stink while the world stands, for treachery, tyranny and lechery.

This did extremely enrage the malignant party against him, so that being hotly pursued, he was obliged to abscond, remaining sometime in private houses, and sometime lying all night without, among broom near the city, yet never omitting any proper occasion of private preaching, catechizing and visiting of families and other ministerial duties. But at length when the churches were all vacated of presbyterians by an act of council anno 1662. Middleton sent a band of soldiers to apprehend him, who, coming to the church, found him not, he having providentially just stepped out of the one door, a minute before they came in at the other; whereupon they took the keys of the church-door with them and departed. In the mean while the council passed an act of confinement, banishing him unto the north side of the Tay, under penalty of being imprisoned and prosecuted as a seditious person: But this sentence he no way regarded.

During this time, partly by grief for the ruin of God's work in the land, and partly by the toils and inconveniences of his labours and accommodation, his voice became so broken, that he could not be heard by many together, which was a sore exercise to him, and discouragement to preach in the fields; but one day, Mr. Blackater coming to preach near Glasgow, he essayed to preach with him, and standing on a chair (as his custom was) he lectured on Isa. xliv. 3. I will pour water on him that is thirsty, &c. The people were much discouraged (knowing his voice to be sore broken) lest they should not have heard by reason of the great confluence. But it pleased the Lord to loose his tongue, and restore his voice to such a distinct clearness, that none could easily exceed him; and not only his voice, but his spirit was so enlarged, and such a door of utterance given him, that Mr. Blackater, succeeding him, said to the people, "Ye, that have such preaching, have no need to invite strangers to preach to you; make good use of your mercy." After this he continued to preach without the city, a great multitude attending and profiting by his ministry, being wonderfully preserved in the midst of danger, the enemy several times sending out to watch him, and catch something from his mouth whereof they might accuse him, &c.

In the month of October 1665, they made a public search for him in the city. But he, being informed, took horse, and rode out of town, and at a narrow pass of the way he met a good number of musketteers. As he passed them, turning to another way on the right hand, one of them asked him, Sir, What-o-clock is it? he answered, It is six. Another of them, knowing his voice, said, There is the man we are seeking. Upon hearing this, he put spurs to his horse, and so escaped.

For about three years he usually resided in the house of one Margaret Craig, a very godly woman, where he lectured morning and evening to such as came to hear him. And though they searched strictly for him here, yet providence so ordered it, that he was either casually or purposely absent; for the Lord was often so gracious to him, that he left him not without some notice of approaching hazard. Thus, one sabbath, as he was going to Woodside to preach, as he was about to mount the horse, having one foot in the stirrup, he turned about to his man, and said, I must not go yonder to-day.—And in a little, a party of the enemy came there in quest of him, but missing the mark they aimed at, they fell upon the people, by apprehending and imprisoning severals of them.

Another of his remarkable escapes was at a search made for him in the city, where they came to his chamber and found him not, being providentially in another house that night. But what is most remarkable, being one day preaching privately in the house of one Mr. Calender, they came and beset the house; the people put him and another into a window, closing the window up with books. The search was so strict, that they searched the very cieling of the house, until one of them fell through the lower loft. Had they removed but one of the books, they would certainly have found him. But the Lord so ordered that they did it not; for as one of the soldiers was about to take up one of them, the maid cried to the commander, That he was going to take her master's books, and he was ordered to let them be. Thus narrowly he escaped this danger.

Thus he continued until the 23d of November 1668. that the council, upon information of a breach of his confinement, cited him to appear before them on the 11th of January thereafter. But when he was apprehended and compeared before the council, and strictly examined (wherein he was most singularly strengthened to bear a faithful testimony to his Master's honour and his persecuted cause and truths), yet by the interposition of some persons of quality, his own friends, and his wife's relations, he was dismissed and presently returned to Glasgow, and there performed all the ministerial duties, as when in his own church, notwithstanding the diligence of persecutors in searching for him again.

Some time before Bothwel, notwithstanding all the searches that were made for him by the enemy, which were both strict and frequent, he preached publicly for eighteen Sabbath-days to multitudes, consisting of several thousands, within a little more than a quarter of a mile of the city of Glasgow; yea, so near it, that the psalms when singing were heard through several parts of it; and yet all this time uninterrupted.

At Bothwel being taken by the enemy, and struck down to the ground with a sword, seeing nothing but present death for him, having received several dangerous wounds in the head, one of the soldiers asked his name; he told him it was Donald Cargil, another asked him, if he was a minister? He answered, he was: whereupon they let him go. When his wounds were examined, he feared to ask if they were mortal, desiring, in submission to God, to live, judging that the Lord had yet further work for him to accomplish.

Some time after the fight at Bothwel, he was pursued from his own chamber out of town, and forced to go through several thorn hedges. But he was no sooner out, than he saw a troop of dragoons just opposite to him, back he could not go, soldiers being posted every where to catch him; upon which he went forward, near by the troop, who looked to him, and he to them, until he got past. But coming to the place of the water, at which he intended to go over, he saw another troop standing on the other side, who called to him, but he made them no answer. And going about a mile up the water he escaped, and preached at Langside next Sabbath without interruption. At another time, being in a house beset with soldiers, he went through the midst of them, they thinking it was the goodman of the house, and escaped.

After Bothwel,[183] he fell into a deep exercise anent his call to the ministry, but, by the grace and goodness of God, he soon emerged out of that, and also got much light anent the duty of the day, being a faithful contender against the enemy's usurped power, and against the sinful compliance of ministers, in accepting the indulgence, with indemnities, oaths, bonds, and all other corruptions.

There was a certain woman in Rutherglen, about two miles from Glasgow, who, by the instigation of some, both ministers and professors, was persuaded to advise her husband to go but once to hear the curate, to prevent the family being reduced; which she prevailed with him to do. But she going the next day after to milk her cows, two or three of them dropt down dead at her feet, and Satan, as she conceived, appeared unto her; which cast her under sad and sore exercises and desertion: so that she was brought to question her interest in Christ, and all that had formerly passed betwixt God and her soul, and was often tempted to destroy herself, and sundry times attempted it. Being before known to be an eminent Christian, she was visited by many Christians; but without success: still crying out, she was undone; she had denied Christ, and he had denied her. After a long time's continuance of this exercise, she cried for Mr. Cargil; who came to her, but found her distemper so strong, that for several visits he was obliged to leave her as he found her, to his no small grief. However, after setting some days apart on her behalf, he at last came again to her; but finding her no better, still rejecting all comfort, still crying out, That she had no interest in the mercy of God, or merits of Christ, but had sinned the unpardonable sin; he, looking in her face for a considerable time, took out his Bible, and naming her, said, "I have this day a commission from my Lord and Master, to renew the marriage contract betwixt you and him; and if ye will not consent, I am to require your subscription on this Bible, that you are willing to quit all right, interest in, or pretence unto him:" and then he offered her pen and ink for that purpose. She was silent for some time; but at last cried out, "O! salvation is come unto this house. I take him; I take him on his own terms, as he is offered unto me by his faithful ambassador." From that time her bonds were loosed.

One time, Mr. Cargil, Mr. Walter Smith, and some other Christian friends being met in a friend's house in Edinburgh, one of the company, having got notice, told him of the general bonding of the west country gentlemen for suppressing the field meetings, and for putting all out of their grounds who frequented them. After sitting silent for some time, he answered, with several heavy sighs and groans, The enemy have been long filling up their cup; and ministers and professors must have time to fill up theirs also; and it shall not be full till enemies and they be clasped in one another's arms; and then, as the Lord lives, he will bring the wheel of his wrath and justice over them altogether.

Some time after the beginning of the year 1680, he retired toward the frith of Forth, where he continued until that scuffle at Queensferry, where worthy Haugh-head was killed, and he sorely wounded. But escaping, a certain woman found him in a private place, on the south side of town, and tying up his wounds with her head-clothes, conducted him to the house of one Robert Puntens, in Carlowrie, where a surgeon dressed his wounds, and Mrs. Puntens gave him some warm milk, and he lay in their barn all night. From thence he went to the south, and next Sabbath preached at Cairn-hill, somewhere adjacent to Loudon, in his blood and wounds (for no danger could stop him from going about doing good). His text was in Heb. xi. 32. And shall I more say, for time would fail me to tell of Gideon, &c. At night some persons said to him, We think, Sir, preaching and praying go best with you when your danger and distress are greatest. He said, It had been so, and he hoped it would be so, that the more that enemies and others did thrust at him that he might fall, the more sensibly the Lord had helped him; and then (as it had been to himself) he repeated these words, The Lord is my strength and song, and has become my salvation, in the 118th psalm, which was the psalm he sung upon the scaffold.

After this, he and Mr. Richard Cameron met and preached together in Darmeid-muir, and other places, until that Mr. Cameron was slain at Airs-moss, and then he went north, where, in the month of September following, he had a most numerous meeting at the Torwood near Stirling, where he pronounced the sentence of excommunication against some of the most violent persecutors of that day, as formally as the present state of things could then permit. Some time before this, it is said, he was very remote and spoke very little in company; only to some he said, He had a tout to give with the trumpet that the Lord had put in his hand, that would sound in the ears of many in Britain, and other places in Europe also. It is said[184], that nobody knew what he was to do that morning, except Mr. Walt Smith, to whom he imparted the thoughts of his heart. When he began, some friends feared he would be shot. His landlord, in whose house he had been that night, cast his coat and ran for it. In the forenoon he lectured on Ezek. xxi. 25, &c. and preached on 1 Cor. v. 13. and then discoursed some time on the nature of excommunication, and then proceeded to the sentence; after which, in the afternoon, he preached from Lam. iii. 31, 32. For the Lord will not cast off for ever.

The next Lord's day he preached at Fallow-hill in the parish of Livingston. In the preface he said, "I know I am and will be condemned by many, for excommunicating those wicked men; but condemn me who will, I know I am approven of by God, and am persuaded that what I have done on earth is ratified in heaven; for, if ever I knew the mind of God, and was clear in my call to any piece of my generation-work, it was that. And I shall give you two signs, that ye may know I am in no delusion: (1) If some of these men do not find that sentence binding upon them, ere they go off the stage, and be obliged to confess it, &c. (2.) If these men die the ordinary death of men, then God hath not spoken by me[185]."

About the 22d of October following, a long and severe proclamation was issued out against him and his followers, wherein a reward of 5000 merks was offered for apprehending him, &c.—Next month governor Middleton, having been frustrated in his design upon Mr. Cargil at Queensferry, laid another plot for him, by consulting one James Henderson in Ferry, who, by forging and signing letters, in name of bailie Adam in Culross, and some other serious Christians in Fife, for Mr. Cargil to come over, and preach to them at the hill of Baith. Accordingly Henderson went to Edinburgh with the letters, and, after a most diligent search, found him in the west bow. Mr. Cargil being willing to answer the call, Henderson proposed to go before, and have a boat ready at the Ferry against they came; and, that he might know them, he desired to see Mr. Cargil's cloath, (Mr. Skeen and Mr. Boig being in the same room). In the mean time he had Middleton's soldiers lying at the Mutton-hole, about three miles from Edinburgh, &c. Mr. Skeen, Archibald Stuart, Mrs. Muir and Marion Hervey took the way before on foot, Mr. Cargil and Mr. Boig being to follow on horseback. Whenever they came to the place, the soldiers spied them; but Mrs. Muir escaped, and went and stopped Mr. Cargil and Mr. Boig, who fled back to Edinburgh.

After this remarkable escape, Mr. Cargil, seeing nothing but the violent flames of treachery and tyranny against him above all others, retired for about three months to England, where the Lord blessed his labours, to the conviction and edification of many. In the time of his absence that delusion of the Gibbites arose, from one John Gib sailor in Borrowstoness, who, with other three men and twenty-six women, vented and maintained the most strange delusions. Some time after, Mr. Cargil returned from England, and was at no small pains to reclaim them, but with little success. After his last conference with them[186] (at Darngavel in Cambusnethen parish) he come next sabbath, and preached at the Underbank wood, below Lanerk, and from thence to Loudon-hill, where he preached upon a fast day, being the 5th of May. Here he intended only to have preached once, and to have baptized some children. His text was, No man that hath followed me in the regeneration, &c. When sermon was over, and the children baptized, more children came up; whereupon friends pressed him to preach in the afternoon; which he did from these words, Weep not for me, &c. In the mean while, the enemy at Glasgow, getting notice of this meeting, seized all the horses in and about the town, that they could come by, and mounted in quest of him; yea, such was their haste and fury, that one of the soldiers, who happened to be behind the rest, riding furiously down the street, called the Stockwell, at mid-day, rode over a child, and killed her on the spot. Just as Mr. Cargil was praying at the close, a lad alarmed them of the enemy's approach. They (having no centinels that day, which was not their ordinary) were surprized, that some of them, who had been at Pentland, Bothwel, Airs-moss, and other dangers, were never so seized with fear, some of the women throwing their children from them. In this confusion Mr. Cargil was running straight on the enemy, but Gavin Wotherspoon and others baled him to the moss, unto which the people fled. The dragoons fired hard upon them, but there were none either killed or taken that day.

About this time, some spoke to Mr. Cargil of his preaching and praying short. They said, "O Sir, it is long betwixt meals, and we are in a starving condition; all is good, sweet and wholesome that you deliver; but why do you so straiten us?" He said, "Ever since I bowed a knee in good earnest to pray, I never durst preach and pray with my gifts; and when my heart is not affected, and comes not up with my mouth, I always thought it time to quit it. What comes not from the heart, I have little hope it will go to the hearts of others." Then he repeated these words in the 51st psalm, Then will I teach transgressors thy way, &c.

From Loudon hill he took a tour through Ayr-shire to Carrick and Galloway, preaching, baptizing, and marrying some people; but stayed not long until he returned to Clydesdale. He designed, after his return, to have preached one day at Tinto-hill, but the lady of St. John's kirk gave it out to be at Home-common. He, being in the house of John Liddel near Tinto, went out to spend the Sabbath morning by himself, and seeing the people all passing by, he inquired the reason, which being told, he rose and followed them five miles. The morning being warm (about the first of June) and the heights steep, he was very much fatigued before he got to the place, where a man gave him a drink of water out of his bonnet, and another between sermons; this being the best entertainment he got that day, for he had tasted nothing in the morning. Here he lectured on the 6th of Isaiah, and preached on these words, Be not high-minded, but fear, &c. From thence he went to Fife, and baptized many children, and preached one day at Daven-common, and then returned to the Benry-ridge in Cambusnethen, where he received a call from the hands of two men, to come back to Galloway, but got it not answered[187].

Mr. Cargil, in that short time, had ran very fast towards his end[188], which now hastens apace. Having left the Benry-ridge, he preached one day at Auchingilloch[189], and then came to preach his last sermon on Dunsyre-common, (betwixt Clydesdale and Lothian) upon that text, Isa. xxvi. 20. Come, my people, and enter into your chambers, &c.

Some time that night, through the persuasion of Mr. Smith and Mr. Boig, he went with the lady of St. John's kirk, as far as Covington mill, to the house of one Andrew Fisher. In the mean time, James Irvin of Bonshaw, having got a general commission, marched with a party of dragoons from Kilbride, and next morning, by sun-rising, came to St. John's kirk, and having searched it, he searched also the house of one Thomson, and then came to Covington mill, and there apprehended him, Mr. Smith and Mr. Boig. Bonshaw, when he found them, cried out, O blessed Bonshaw! and blessed day that ever I was born! that has found such a prize! a prize of 5000 marks for apprehending of him this morning! They marched hard to Lanerk, and put them in jail, until they got some refreshment, and then brought them out in haste, got horses and set the prisoners on their bare backs. Bonshaw tied Mr. Cargil's feet below the horse's belly (with his own hand) very hard, at which this good man looked down to him, and said, "Why do you tie me so hard? your wickedness is great. You will not long escape the just judgment of God, and, if I be not mistaken, it will seize you in this place." Which accordingly next year came to pass; for having got this price of blood, one of his comrades, in a rage, ran him through with a sword at Lanerk; and his last words were, "G—d d——n my soul eternally, for I am gone." Mischief shall hunt the violent man.

They came to Glasgow in haste, fearing a rescue of the prisoners, and while waiting at the tolbooth till the magistrates came to receive them, one John Nisbet, the arch-bishop's rector, said to Mr. Cargil in ridicule, three times over, Will you give us one word more, (alluding to an expression he used sometime when preaching) to whom Mr. Cargil said with regret, "Mock not, lest your hands be made strong. The day is coming, when you will not have one word to say though you would." This also came quickly to pass, for, not many days after, he fell suddenly ill, and for three days his tongue swelled, and though he was most earnest to speak, yet he could not command one word, and died in great torment and seeming terror.

From Glasgow they were taken to Edinburgh; and July 15th, were brought before the council. Chancellor Rothes (being one of those whom he excommunicated at Torwood) raged against him, threatening him with torture and a violent death. To whom he said. "My lord Rothes forbear to threaten me, for die what death I will, your eyes shall not see it."—Which accordingly came to pass, for he died the morning of that day, in the afternoon of which Mr. Cargil was executed.

When before the council, he was asked, If he owned the king's authority, &c.? He answered, As the magistrates authority is now established by the act of parliament and explanatory act, that he denied the same. Being also examined anent the excommunication at Torwood, he declined to answer, as being an ecclesiastical matter, and they a civil judicatory. He owned the lawfulness of defensive arms in cases of necessity, and denied that those who rose at Bothwel, &c. were rebels; and being interrogate anent the Sanquhar declaration, he declined to give his judgment until he had more time to peruse the contents thereof. He further declared, he could not give his sense of the killing of the bishop; but that the scriptures say, Upon the Lord's giving a call to a private man to kill, he might do it lawfully; and gave the instances of Jael and Phinehas. These were the most material points on which he was examined[190].

While he was in prison a gentlewoman (who came to visit him) told him weeping, "That these heaven-daring enemies were contriving a most violent death for him; some, a barrel with many pikes to roll him in; others, an iron chair red-hot to roast him in, &c." But he said, "Let you, nor none of the Lord's people be troubled for these things, for all that they will get liberty to do to me will be to knit me up, cut me down, and chop off my old head, and then fare them well; they have done with me and I with them for ever."

He was again before the council on the 19th, but refused to answer their questions, except anent the excommunication, wherein he exprest himself much as above. It appears that there was some motion made to spare him, as he was an old man, and send him prisoner to the Bass during life; which motion, being put to a vote, was, by the casting vote of the earl of Argyle, rejected, who doomed him to the gallows, there to die like a traitor.

Upon the 26th, he was brought before the justiciary, and indicted in common form. His confession being produced in evidence against him, he was brought in guilty of high treason, and condemned, with the rest, to be hanged at the cross of Edinburgh, and his head placed on the Nether-bow. When they came to these words, in his indictment, viz. having cast off all fear of God, &c. he caused the clerk to stop, and (pointing to the advocate Sir George MacKenzie) said, "The man that hath caused that paper to be drawn up, hath done it contrary to the light of his own conscience, for he knoweth that I have been a fearer of God from mine infancy; but that man, I say, who took the holy Bible in his hand, and said, It would never be well with the land, until that book was destroyed, &c. I say, he is the man that hath cast off all fear of God." The advocate stormed at this, but could not deny the truth thereof.

When they got their sentence announced by sound of trumpet, he said, "That is a weary sound, but the sound of the last trumpet will be a joyful sound to me, and all that will be found having on Christ's righteousness."

Being come to the scaffold, he stood with his back to the ladder, and desired the attention of the numerous spectators, and after singing from the 16th verse of the 118th psalm, he began to speak to three sorts of people, but being interrupted by the drums, he said, with a smiling countenance, Ye see we have not liberty to speak, or speak what we would, but God knoweth our hearts. As he proceeded, he was again interrupted. Then after a little pause or silence he begin to exhort the people; and to shew his own comfort in laying down his life, in the assurance of a blessed eternity, expressing himself in these words, "Now, I am as sure of my interest in Christ and peace with God, as all within this Bible and the Spirit of God can make me; and I am fully persuaded that this is the very way for which I suffer, and that he will return gloriously to Scotland; but it will be terrifying to many. Therefore I intreat you, be not discouraged at the way of Christ, and the cause for which I am to lay down my life, and step to eternity, where my soul shall be as full of him as it can desire to be; and now this is the sweetest and most glorious day that ever mine eyes did see. Enemies are now enraged against the way and people of God, but ere long they shall be enraged one against another, to their own confusion;" here the drums did beat a third time. Then setting his foot on the ladder, he said, "The Lord knows I go on this ladder with less fear and perturbation of mind, than ever I entered the pulpit to preach."—When up, he sat down and said, "Now I am near the getting of the crown, which shall be sure, for which I bless the Lord, and desire all of you to bless him, that he hath brought me here, and made me triumph over devils, men and sin; They shall wound me no more. I forgive all men the wrongs they have done me; and I pray the sufferers may be kept from sin, and helped to know their duty." Then having prayed a little within himself, he lifted up the napkin and said, "Farewel all relations and friends in Christ; farewel acquaintances and earthly enjoyments; farewel reading and preaching, praying and believing, wanderings, reproach and sufferings. Welcome Father, Son and Holy Ghost; into thy hands I commit my spirit." Then he prayed a little, and the executioner turned him over as he was praying; and so he finished his course, and the ministry that he had received of the Lord.

Take his character from Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston, who was his contemporary.—He was affectionate, affable and tender-hearted to all such as he thought had any thing of the image of God in them; sober and temperate in his diet, saying commonly, It was well won that was won off the flesh; generous, liberal and most charitable to the poor; a great hater of covetousness; a frequent visiter of the sick; much alone; loving to be retired; but when about his Master's public work, laying hold of every opportunity to edify; in conversation still dropping what might minister grace to the hearers; his countenance was edifying to beholders; often sighing with deep groans; preaching in season, and out of season, upon all hazards; ever the same in judgment and practice. From his youth he was much given to the duty of secret prayer, for whole nights together; wherein it was observed that, both in secret and in families, he always sat straight up upon his knees with his hands lifted up, and in this posture (as some took notice) he died with the rope about his neck.

Beside his last speech and testimony, and several other religious letters, with the lecture, sermon and sentence of excommunication at Torwood, which were all published, there are also several other sermons and notes of sermons interspersed, among some people's hands in print and manuscript, some of which were lately published. Yet if we may believe one[191] who heard severals of them preached, they are nothing to what they were when delivered; and however pathetical, yet doubtless far inferior to what they would have been, had they been corrected and published by the worthy author himself.

Follows an ACROSTICK on his Name.

Most sweet and savoury is thy fame, And more renowned is thy name, Surely than any can record, Thou highly favoured of the Lord. Exalted thou on earth didst live; Rich grace to thee the Lord did give.

During the time thou dwelt below, On in a course to heaven didst go. Not casten down with doubts and fears, Assured of heaven near thirty years. Labour thou didst in Christ's vineyard; Diligent wast, no time thou spar'd.

Christ's standard thou didst bear alone, After others from it were gone. Right zeal for truth was found in thee, Great sinners censur'dst faithfully. In holding truth didst constant prove, Laidst down thy life out of true love.

June 21st, 1741. W. W.



The Life of Mr. WALTER SMITH.

Walter Smith was son to Walter Smith in the parish of St. Ninian's, near Airth in Stirling-shire. He was an eminent Christian and good scholar. He went over to Holland, where he studied sometime under the famous Leusden, who had a great esteem and value for him, as being one both of high attainments and great experience in the serious exercise and solid practice of christianity.

In the year 1679, we find that he made no mean figure among that little handful of the Lord's suffering remnant, who rose in their own defence at Bothwel-bridge.—For he was both chosen clerk to the council of war, and also a commanding-officer among the honest party; and had the honour not only to witness and protest against the sinful compliance of that corrupt Erastian party, that then foisted themselves in amongst them, but was also one of those three who were then appointed to draw up the causes of the Lord's wrath against the land, and the Hamilton declaration was to be one of the last causes thereof, with a new declaration which they intended to have published at that time; and although both of these were undertaken, yet the Lord did not honour them to publish the same, as some of them with great regret, unto their dying day, did acknowledge.[192]

After the overthrow and dissipation of the covenanters at Bothwel (wherein the Erastian party among them had no little hand), it appears that Mr. Smith went over, for some time to Holland, but did not stay long; for we meet with him again with Mr. Cargil at Torwood, in Sept. 1680, after which he was very helpful to him in his conversation and advice in difficult cases, and praying in families (when he was fatigued with sore travel, being an old man, and going then often on foot), and many times in public preaching days precenting for him.

He had a longing desire to preach Christ, and him crucified unto the world, and the word of salvation thro' his name. Mr. Cargil had the same desire, and for that end, it is said, had written to two ministers to meet him at Cummerhead in Lismehago in Clydesdale, but ere that day came, that door was closed (for they were in the enemies hands). However Mr. Smith followed the example of our blessed Lord and Saviour, in going about doing good, in many places and to many persons, in spiritual, edifying conversation, and was a singular example of true piety and zeal, which had more influence upon many than most part of the ministers of that day.

A little before his death he drew up twenty-two rules for fellowship or society meetings, which at that time greatly increased, from the river Tay to Newcastle, in which he was very instrumental, which afterwards settled unto a general and quarterly correspondence four times yearly, that so they might speak one with another, when they wanted the public preaching of the gospel; and to appoint general fasting days through the whole community, wherein their own sins, and the prevailing sins and defections of the times, were the principal causes thereof; and that each society was to meet and spend some time of the Lord's day together, when deprived of the public ordinances[193]. Mr. Cargil said, That these society-meetings would increase more and more for a time; but when the judgment came upon these sinful lands, there would be few standing society-meetings, when there would be most need, few mourners, prayers, pleaders, &c. what through carnality, security, darkness, deadness and divisions.

But he was now well nigh the evening of his life, and his labours both. For having been with Mr. Cargil, when he preached his last sermon on Dunsyre common, betwixt Clydesdale and Lothian, he was next morning, by wicked Bonshaw (who had formerly traded in fine horses betwixt the two kingdoms), apprehended at Covington-mill. He was, with the rest of the prisoners, carried from Lanerk to Glasgow, and from thence taken to Edinburgh, where, upon the 15th of July, he was brought before the council, and there examined if he owned the king and his authority as lawful? He answered, "He cannot acknowledge the present authority the king is now invested with, and the exercise thereof, being now clothed with a supremacy over the church." Being interrogate, If the king's falling from the covenant looses him from his obedience, and if the king thereby loses his authority? He answered, "He thinks he is obliged to perform all the duties of the covenant, conform to the word of God, and the king is only to be obeyed in terms of the covenant." Being further interrogate anent the Torwood excommunication, he declared, He thought their reasons were just.

On the 19th he was again brought before them and interrogate, If he owned the Sanquhar declaration? It was then read to him, and he owned the same in all its articles, except that he looked not upon these persons as the formal representatives of the presbyterian church, as they called themselves. And as to that expression, The king should have been denuded many years ago, he did not like the word denuded, but said, What the king has done justifies the peoples revolting against him. As to these words, where the king is called an usurper and a tyrant, he said, Certainly the king is an usurper, and wished he was not a tyrant.

Upon the 20. he was with the rest, brought before the justiciary, where, being indicted in common form, their confessions were produced as evidences against them, and they all brought in guilty of high treason, and condemned to be hanged at the cross of Edinburgh upon the 27. and their heads to be severed from their bodies, and those of Messrs. Cargil, Smith and Boig to be placed on the Nether-bow, and the heads of the others on the West-port, all which was done accordingly.

After Mr. Cargil was executed, Mr. Smith was brought upon the scaffold, where he adhered to the very same cause with Mr. Cargil, and declared the same usurpation of Christ's crown and dignity, and died with great assurance of his interest in Christ, declaring his abhorrence of popery, prelacy, erastianism and all other steps of defection. He went up the ladder with all signs of cheerfulness, and when the executioner was to untie his cravat, he would not suffer him, but untied it himself, and calling to his brother, he threw it down, saying, This is the last token you shall get from me. After the napkin was drawn over his face, he uncovered it again, and said, I have one word more to say, and that is, to all who have any love to God and his righteous cause, that they would set time apart, and sing a song of praise to the Lord, for what he has done for my soul, and my soul saith, To him be praise. Then the napkin being let down, he was turned over praying, and died in the Lord, with his face bending upon Mr. Cargil's breast. These two cleaved to one another, in love and unity, in their life; and between them in their death, there was no disparity. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided, &c.

The now glorified Mr. Walter Smith was a man no less learned than pious, faithful and religious. His old master, the professor of divinity at Utrecht in Holland (when he heard of his public violent bloody death of martyrdom), gave him this testimony, weeping, saying, in broken English, "O Smith! the great, brave Smith! who exceeded all that I ever taught. He was capable to teach many, but few to instruct him." Besides some letters, and the forementioned twenty-two rules for fellowship meetings, he wrote also twenty-two steps of national defection; all which are now published; and if these, with his last testimony, be rightly considered, it will appear that his writings were inferior to few of the contendings of that time.



The Life of Mr. ROBERT GARNOCK.[194]

Robert Garnock was born in Stirling, anno ——, and baptized by faithful Mr. James Guthrie. In his younger years, his parents took much pains to train him up in the way of duty: but soon after the restoration, the faithful presbyterian ministers being turned out, curates were put in their place, and with them came ignorance, profanity and persecution.—Some time after this, Mr. Law preached at his own house in Monteith, and one Mr. Hutchison sometimes at Kippen. Being one Saturday's evening gone out to his grandmother's house in the country, and having an uncle who frequented these meetings, he went along with him unto a place called Shield-brae.—And next Sabbath he went with him through much difficulty (being then but young) through frost and snow, and heard Mr. Law at Montieth; which sermon through a divine blessing, wrought much upon his mind.—Thus he continued for some considerable time to go out in the end of the week for an opportunity of hearing the gospel, and to return in the beginning of next week to Stirling, but did not let his parents know anything of the matter.

But one time, hearing a proclamation read at the cross exhibiting, that all who did not hear or receive privileges from the curates were to be severely punished; which much troubled his mind, making him hesitate whether to go to a field preaching that he heard was to be next Sabbath, or not. But at last he came to this resolution. Says he, "the Lord inclined my heart to go and put that word to me, go for once, go for all, if they take thee, for that which is to come. So I went there, and the Lord did me good: for I got at that sermon that which, although they had rent me into a thousand pieces, I would not have said what I had said before. So the Lord made me follow the gospel for a long time; and tho' I knew little then what I meant, yet he put it in my heart still to keep by the honest side, and not to comply or join with enemies of one kind or another, yea not to watch, ward or strengthen their hands any manner of way. When I was asked, why I would not keep watch (or stand centry) on the town; it was a commanded duty; I told them, I would not lift arms against the work of God. If ever I carried arms, it should be for the defence of the gospel."

Now, he became a persecuted man, and was obliged to leave the town. His father being a black-smith, he had learned the same trade, and so he went some time to Glasgow, and followed his occupation. From Glasgow he returned home; and from thence went again to Borrowstouness, where he had great debate, as himself expresses it,—"about that woeful indulgence: I did not know the dreadful hazard of hearing them, until I saw they preached at the hazard of men's lives.—This made me examine the matter, until I found out that they were directly wrong and contrary to scripture, had changed their head, had quitted Jesus Christ as their head, and had taken their commission from men, owning that perjured adulterous wretch as head of the church, receiving then commission to preach in such and such places from him and those bloody thieves under him."

From Borrowstouness he returned back to Falkirk; and thence home to Stirling, where he remained for some time under a series of difficulties: for, after he got off when taken with others at the Shield-brae,—while he was making bold to visit Mr. Skeen, he was taken in the castle, and kept all night, and used very barbarously by the soldiers, and at eight o'clock next morning taken before the provost, who not being then at leisure, he was imprisoned till afternoon. But by the intercession of one Colin M'Kinzie (to whom his father was smith) he was got out, and without so much as paying the jailor's fee. "I had much of the Lord's kindness at that time, (says he) although I did not know then what it meant, and so I was thrust forth unto my wandering again."

About this time, he intended to go to Ireland; but being disappointed, he returned back to Stirling, where he was tost to and fro for some time, and yet he remarks, he had some sweet times in this condition; particularly one night, when he was down in the Carfe with one Barton Hendry;[195] after which heavy trials ensued unto him from professors; because he testified against every kind of their compliance with the current of the times. Upon this account, the society meeting he was in and he could not agree. This made him leave them, and go to one in the country; which, he says, "were more sound in judgment, and of an undaunted courage and zeal for God and his cause; for the life of religion was in that society."

At this time, he fell into such a degree of temptation by the devices of the enemy of man's salvation, that he was made to supplicate the Lord several times that he might not be permitted to a affright him in some visible shape, which he then apprehended he was attempting to do. But from these dreadful oppressions he was at last, through the goodness of God, happily delivered.[196] Although, as yet, he knew but little of experimental religion. And, says he, "The world thought I had religion: but to know the hidden things of godliness was yet a mystery to me. I did not know any thing as yet of the new birth, or what it was spiritually to take the kingdom of heaven by violence, &c." Which serves to shew, that one may do and suffer many things for Christ and religion, and yet at the same time be a stranger to the life and power thereof.

But anon he falls into another difficulty; for a proclamation being issued, that all betwixt thirteen and sixty was to pay Poll-money; word was sent his father, that if he would pay it, he should have his liberty; which was no small temptation. But this he absolutely refused, and also told his father plainly (when urged by him to do it) that, if one plack (or four pennies) would do it, he would not give it. His father said, He would give it for him; to whom he answered, If he did, he needed never expect it or any consideration for it from him. And for the result of the matter, hear his own words: "And O! but the Lord was kind to me then; and his love was better than life. I was tossed in my wanderings and banishment with many ups and downs, till I came to Edinburgh, where I heard of a communion to be on the borders of England; and then I went to it. O! let me bless the Lord that ever trysted me with such a lot as that was: for the 20, 21 and 22 of April [1677] were the three most wonderful days with the Lord's presence that ever I saw on earth. O! but his power was wonderfully seen, and great to all the assembly, especially to me. Of the three wonderful days of the Lord's presence at East-Nisbet in the Merse. That was the greatest communion, I suppose, these twenty years. I got there what I will never forget while I live. Glory to his sweet name that ever there was such a day in Scotland. His work was wonderful to me both in spirituals and temporals. O! that I could get him praised and magnified for it. He was seen that day sitting at the head of his table, and his spikenard sending forth a pleasant smell. Both good and bad were made to cry out, and some to say, with the disciples, It is good for us to be here. They would have been content to have staid there. And I thought it was a begun heaven to be in that place."

After this, he returned home to Stirling, and got liberty to follow his employment for some time.—But, lo! another difficulty occurred; for while the Highland host was commanded west, [in the beginning of 1678] all Stirling being commanded to be in arms, which all excepting a very few, obeyed; he refused, and went out of town with these few, and kept a meeting. When he returned, his father told him, he was past for the first time, but it behoved him to mount guard to-morrow.—He refused: his father was angry, and urged him with the practices of others. He told his father, he would hang his faith upon no man's belt, &c. On the morrow, when the drums beat to mount the guard, being the day of his social meeting, he went out of the town under a heavy load of reproach, and even from professors, who made no bones to say, that it was not principle of conscience he hesitated upon, but that he might have liberty to strole through the country: because he attended these meetings; which was no easy matter to bear. Orders were given to apprehend him; but at that time he escaped their hand, and wandered from one place to another, until the beginning of August 1678, that he came to Carrick communion at Maybole: and what his exercise was there, himself thus expresses: "I was wonderfully trysted there; but not so as at the other. I went to the first table, and then went and heard worthy Messrs. Kid and Cameron preach at a little distance from the meeting, who never left the fields till they sealed and crowned it with their blood. I cannot say but the Lord was kind to me, on the day after there, and on the fast day in the middle of the week after that, near the borders of Kilmarnock parish, where a division arose about the indulgence, which to this day is never yet done away. After my return home, I was made to enter into covenant with him upon his own terms against the indulgence and all other compliances: and, because through the Lord's strength I resolved to keep my bargain, and not to join with them, it was said, I had got new light; and I was much reproached, yet I got much of the Lord's kindness when attending the preached gospel in the field, to which I would sometimes go twenty miles."

And having thus wandered to and fro for some time, he went to Edinburgh to see the prisoners, and then returned home to Stirling in the end of the week. Late on Saturday night, he heard of a field preaching, and seeing the soldiers and troopers marching out of the town to attack the people at that meeting, he made himself ready, and, with a few others, went toward the meeting: and, being armed, they arrived near the place; but the soldiers coming forward, the people still, as they approached, seeing the enemy, turned off. So he and a few armed men and the minister, seeing this, took a hill above Fintry beside the craigs of Ball-glass. So the enemy came forward. This little handful drew up in the best posture the time and circumstances would allow; and sung a psalm, at which the soldiers were so affrighted, that they told afterward, that the very matches had almost fallen out of their hands. At last a trooper coming up, commanded them to dismiss: but they refused. This was repeated several times, till the captain of the foot came forward, and gave them the same charge; which they also refused. Upon this, he commanded a party of his men to advance and fire upon them: which they did once or twice: which was by this little company returned with much courage and agility, until the whole party and the commanding officer (consisting of 48 men and 16 horsemen) fired upon this little handful, which he thinks amounted to not above 18 that had arms, with a few women. After several fires were returned on both sides, one of the sufferers stepped forward, and shot one side of the captain's periwig off, at which the foot fled; but the horsemen, taking the advantage of the rising ground, surrounded this small party. They then fired on a young man, but missed him. However, they took him and some others prisoners. The rest fled off. Robert Garnock was hindermost, being the last on the place of action, and says, he intended not to have been taken, but rather killed. At last one of the enemy came after him, on which he resolved either to kill or be killed before he surrendered,—catching a pistol from one for that purpose. But another coming in for assistance, the trooper fled off, and so they escaped unto the other side of a precipice, where they staid until the enemy were gone, who marched directly with their prisoners to Stirling[197].

After the fray was over, Robert staid till evening, and spoke with some friends and the minister, who dissuaded him all they could from going into Stirling. But being now approaching toward the eve of his pilgrimage state, with Paul, in another case, when going up to Jerusalem, he could not be prevailed upon; and so went to town: and entering the town about One in the morning, he got into a house at the foot of the castle-hill, and there got his arms left with much difficulty: but, as he was near the head of the castle-hill, he was by two soldiers (who were lying in wait for those who had been at that meeting) apprehended and brought to the guard; and then brought before lord Linlithgow's son: who asked him, if he was at that preaching? he told him, he was at no preaching. Linlithgow's son said, he was a liar. Robert said, he was no liar; and seeing ye will not believe me, I will tell no more: prove the rest. Linlithgow said, he would make him do it.—But he answered, he should not. Then he asked his name, trade, and his father's name, and where they dwelt? all which he answered. Then he bade keep him fast. At night he was much abused by the soldiers; some of them who had been wounded in the skirmish, threatening him with torture, gagging in the mouth, &c. all which he bore with much patience. In the morning a serjeant came to examine him; but he refused him as a judge to answer to. At last the commanding officer came and examined him, if he was at that skirmish. He answered, That for being there he was taken; and whether I was there or not, I am not bound to give you an account. So he went out, and in a little returned with the provost, who thought to surplant him by asking, who of Stirling folk was there? he answered, That they were both his neighbours and his; and though he had been there, he might account him very impudent to tell: for though he thought it his duty to ask, yet it was not his to tell or answer: and he thought he should rather commend him for so doing. After several other things anent that affair, he was commanded to close prison; and none, not so much as his father, allowed to speak to him; but he did not want company at that time; for, says he, "O but I had a sweet time of it: the Lord's countenance was better unto me than all the company in the world."

The forementioned skirmish had fallen out May 8th, 1679, and upon the 19th of the same month, he was put into the common prison amongst malefactors; where he got some more liberty, having some others of the sufferers with him. However, they were very much disturbed by a notorious murderer, who, being drunk one time, thought to have killed him with a large plank or form. But happily the stroke did not hurt him, though he struck with all his force twice, whereby another was almost killed. This made him and other five to lie sometimes upon the stairs; for they could have no other place; though they desired the thieves hole, they could not obtain it. And thus they passed the time with much pain and trouble, until June 16th, that the Fife men were broke at Bewly[198], and numbers taken which were brought in prisoners on the 11th; whereby they were very much thronged. Here he continued till the break at Bothwel on the 22d, after which there was no small confusion by tendering and pressing of a bond of conformity against offensive arms, wherein he got his share during that time.

Upon the 13th of July, he was brought forth and in company with about 100 more prisoners under a strong guard of red coats taken from Stirling to Edinburgh, and put into Gray-friar's church-yard, amongst the Bothwel prisoners: there he was more vexed both by the enemy and his fellow-sufferers than ever. A specimen of which I shall give in his own words: "Some of my neighbours desired the bond, so they put it to me; but I refused. However, the most part of them took it. Nay, there were some of them supplicated for any bond. This made some of us conclude it was our duty to testify against it; which piece of employment was put upon me, against which some of the prisoners obtested.—So I was rendered odious; but many a-day the Lord was kind to me in that yard, and kept me from many a fear and snare; his love was sweet unto me. The men complained of us to the commanders, who sent for me and examined me on the bond and other things: they said, I should be gagged, and every day I was vexed with them; until almost the whole prisoners petitioned for it—And there was as good as seventy ministers sent unto the ward to take it, and they said, it was not a head to suffer upon: when they had done, they sent in two gentlewomen with the commission; and they set upon me: I told them, if every one of them had as much of it as I had, they would not be so busy to press it: for before this, the bloody crew came to the yard, and called on me, and asked, If I would take the bond. I said, No. They said, I would get no other sentence.—So I was sore put to it: I would often have been at the doing of something; but the Lord would not suffer me. So, in his strength, I fought on against my own heart and them all, and overcame. But O! the cross was sweet unto me and easy. There needs none fear to venture on suffering in his way and strength. O happy day, that ever I was trysted with such a thing. My bargaining with lovely Jesus was sweet unto me. It is true, affliction, for the present, seems not joyous but grievous; but afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness to those who are exercised thereby. I never knew the treachery of ministers, and their dreadful hypocrisy and double dealing in the matters of God before that time, and I could never love them after that; for they made many a one to rack their conscience in taking that bond. I was brought out of the yard, Oct. 25th, with a guard of soldiers; when coming out, one Mr. White asked, if I would take the bond? I, smiling, said, No. He, in way of jeer, said, I had a face to glorify God in the Salt market. So I bade farewel to all my neighbours who were sorry; and White bade me take goodnight with them, for I should never see them more. But I said, Lads, take good heart; for we may yet meet again for all this.—So I was brought before their council-court. They asked, if I would take the bond? I said, No.—Some of them said, May be he does not know it; but Halton said, he knows it well enough. So one of them read it. I asked, if they would have me subscribe a lie to take away my life; for I never was in rebellion, nor intended to be so. They said, they would make another bond for me. I answered they needed not trouble themselves; for I was not designed to subscribe any bond at this time.

"Quest. Will ye rise in rebellion against the king?

"Answ. I was not rising in rebellion against the king.

"Q. Will ye take the bond never to rise against the king and his authority?

"A. What is the thing ye call authority? They said, If they, the soldiers or any other subject, should kill me, I was bound not to resist. I answered, That I will never do.

"Q. Is the bishop's death murder?

"A. I am a prisoner; and so no judge.

"Q. Is Bothwel-bridge rebellion?

"A. I am not bound to give my judgment in that.

"Then one of them said, I told you what the rebel rascal would say: you will be hanged, Sir. I answered, you must first convict me of a crime. They said, you did excommunicate prisoners for taking the bond. I said, that was not in my power; and moreover, I was now before them, and prove it if they were able. They said, they would hang me for rebellion. I said, you cannot: for if you walk according to your own laws, I should have my liberty. They said, Should we give a rebellious knave, like you, your liberty? you should be hanged immediately. I answered, That lies not yet in your power: so they caused quickly to take me away, and put me in the iron-house tolbooth. Much more passed that I must not spend time to notice.

"So they brought me to the iron-house to fifteen of my dear companions in tribulation; and there we were a sweet company, being all of one judgment. There serving the Lord, day and night, in singleness of heart, his blessing was seen amongst us; for his love was better than life. We were all with one accord trysted sweetly together: and O it was sweet to be in this company, and pleasant to those who came in to see us, until the indictments came in amongst us. There were ten got their indictments. Six came off, and four got their sentence to die at Magus muir. There were fifteen brought out of the yard, and some of them got their liberty offered, if they would witness against me. But they refused, so they got all their indictments, but complied all, save one, who was sentenced to die with the other four at Magus muir."

In this situation he continued till Nov. 13, that he was, by the intercession of some friends, brought to the west galleries on the other side of the tolbooth, where he continued sometime, till called again before some of the council; after which he was again committed to close prison for a time, till one night being called forth by one of the keepers, one Mr. John Blair, being present, accosted him thus, Wherefore do ye refuse the bond? He answered, I have no time now for that matter. But out of that place, said Blair, you shall not go, for the covenants and the xiii. of the Romans bind you to it. I answered, No; they just bound me to the contrary. What if popery should come to the land, should we bind ourselves never to defend the true religion? He said, we were loosed then. I said, No; Presbyterians were taken by their word, and they should abide by it: and ere all were done, it should be a dear bond unto them:—as for my part, I would rather go to the Grass-market, and seal it with my blood, &c. After he came down, the goodman of the tolbooth abused him in a very indiscreet manner, saying, that, if there were no more men, he should be hanged; and that he was an ignorant fool; ministers nor men could not convince him; and bade take him off again to close prison, where he was again as much vexed with a company of bonders as ever: for they were not only become lax in principle but in duty also, for he roundly told them, "You are far from what you were in the iron-house before you took the bond: then you would have been up at duty by two or three in the morning; now you lie in bed till eight or nine in the day.—They said, it was true enough; but said no more."

After these got their liberty, he was accompanied with some other prisoners, some of whom were kept in for debt. And then, he says, he would have been up by four in the morning, and made exercise amongst them three times a-day, and the Lord was kind to him during that time; and he resolved never to make any compliance, and in this he was made to eat meat out of the eater, and sweet out of the strong. But some gentlemen, prisoners for religion where he was before, prevailed with the goodman of the tolbooth to have him back to them about the beginning of 1680. But here the old temptation to compliance and tampering with the enemy was afresh renewed; for the ministers coming in to visit these, when they could do no more, they brought ministers to the rooms to preach, and would make him hear them; which he positively refused. At last, they brought a minister, one of his acquaintance; him that should have preached that day he was taken[199]. But hearing he had made some compliance with the enemy, he would not go to the next room to hear him make exercise, till he knew the certainty of the matter. After which, he came to another room, where they had some conference. A short hint of it I shall here subjoin as follows: "He asked after my welfare; and if I was going out of the prison? I told him, I blessed the Lord for it, I was well, and was not going out yet." After some conversation anent field-preachings, particularly, one by worthy Mr. Cameron at Monkland, which he condemned; "He asked, why I did not hear ministers? I answered, I desired to hear none but what are faithful; for I am a prisoner, and would gladly be in the right way, not to wrong myself.—He said, wherein are they unfaithful? I said, in changing their head, quiting the Lord's way, and taking on with covenant breakers, murderers of his people, &c. He said, how would I prove that? I said, their own practice proves it. He said, these were but failings, and these would not perjure a man; And it is not for you to cast at ministers: you know not what you are doing.—Answer, I do not cast them off: they cast off themselves by quiting the holding of their ministry of Christ. Quest. How prove you that? Answ. The 10th of John proves it; for they come not in by the door.—You may put me wrong; but I think that in Gal. i. 6. I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you, &c. you may read that at your leisure, how Paul had not his gospel from men, nor by the will of men. He said, lay by these: but what is the reason you will not hear others? I said, I desire to hear none of these gaping for the indulgence, and not faithful in preaching against it."

After some conference anent Messrs. Cameron and Cargil, in which he said Mr. Cameron was no minister; and Mr. Cargil was once one, and had quitted it; that they received their doctrines from men, their hearers, who said, you must preach such and such doctrines, and we will hear you. To all which the martyr gave pertinent answers. He said, "Robert, do not think I am angry that you come not to hear me; for I desire not you, nor any of your faction to come and hear me; for I cannot preach to all your humours. I said, it was all the worse for that. He said, none of these faults would cast off a minister. They were but failings, not principles. I said I could not debate, but I should let any Christian judge, if it was no principle for a minister to hold Christ head of the church. I told him, there was once a day I would have ventured my life at his back for the defence of Christ's gospel; but not now; and I was more willing to lay down my life now for his sweet and dear truths than ever I was. He said, the Lord pity and help me. I said, I had much need of it. And so he went away, and rendered me odious. This, amongst other things, made me go to God and to engage in covenant with his Son never to hear any of those who betrayed his cause, till I saw evidences of their repentance. And I would have been willing to have quitted all for that chiefest among ten thousands."

Thus he continued, till, he says, he got bad counsel from some of his friends to supplicate for his liberty; and they prevailed so far as to draw up a supplication and brought him to subscribe. But when they had got him to take the pen in his hand. "The Lord bade me hold, (says he) and one came and bade me take heed. So I did it not, for which I bless his holy name. But this lets me see, there is no standing in me. Had it not been his free love, I had gone the blackest way ever one did, &c."

The night before gallant Hackston was executed, being down stairs, and hearing of the way and manner he was to be executed, he went up stairs, (though it was treason to speak to him) and told him of it; which he could scarcely believe: But the keepers hearing came up to persuade him to the contrary, and to put Robert in the irons. However they got eight gray coats who watched Mr. Hackston all night, persuading him to the contrary. So that he did not know till at the place of execution.

It would appear, he was not put in the irons then until some time after, that a young woman, who was taken at the Ferry when Hall-head was killed, who having liberty to come into the lady Gilkerclugh then in prison, was conveyed out in a gentleman's habit, of which he and another got the blame, though entirely innocent; for which they were laid in irons: the other got his liberty, but Robert continued his alone sometime, till they intended to send him off with some soldiers to Tanguirs. But the Lord having other ways determined, they could not get as many of the council conveened, as to get an order made out: and so he was continued in prison, during which time he endured sore conflict with those his fellow prisoners, who still complied and got off, and others came in their place who set upon him afresh: So that he and any one who was of his own judgment, could scarcely get liberty to worship God in the room without disturbance, calling him a devil, &c. And those who were faithful and a comfort to him, were still taken from him and executed, while he was retained (his time not being yet come) in prison where he was sometime with one John Scarlet, who, he says, was one of the basest of creatures.

To relate all the trials and difficulties he underwent, during the time of his imprisonment near the space of two years and a half, with his various exercises, with the remarkable goodness of God towards him all that time, will be more than can conveniently be accomplished at present. I shall only notice one or two very strange occurrences of divine providence towards him; which he observes, with a few of his own expressions concerning himself and exercise, and his condition toward the end of his narrative and life also, which follows in his own words.

"I have no reason (says he) but to go through with cheerfulness, whatever he puts me to for owning of his cause: for if it had not been his sweet love to me, I might have been a sufferer for the worst of crimes: for there is in me what is in the worst of creatures: a remarkable instance of which I was tristed with long since;—which, while I live, I will not forget. Being at home working with my father, and having mended a chest-lock to an honest woman, I went home with it to put it on: the woman not being at leisure, there was a gun standing besides me: and I oftimes having guns amongst my hands to dress, took it up, and (not adverting that it was loaded) thinking her not good, tried to fire her; whereupon she went off, and the ball went up through a loft above, and had almost killed a woman and a child; and had not providence directed that shot, I had suffered as a murderer: And am I not obliged to follow and suffer for the chiefest among ten thousands, that has so honoured me a poor wretch? for many other things have escaped me; but I may not stay to mention what the Lord has done for me both at field preachings and other places.

"I have had a continued warfare, and my predominants grew mightily on my hand, which made my life sometimes heavy; but, amongst the many sweet nights and days I have had, was that 23d in the evening and 24th in the morning of August, 1681. The Lord was kind to me; that was the beginning of mornings indeed, whereon I got some of the Lord's love, and whereon I got an open door, and got a little within the court, and there was allowed to give in what I had to say either as to my own souls case or the case of the church which is low at this day. I have indeed had some sweet days since, but I have misguided them, and could not keep in with him; for my corruptions are so mighty, that sometimes I have been made to cry out, Woes me that ever I was born a man of strife and contention to many. O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from me from the body of this death? But the Lord maketh up all again with his love; so that I have many ups and downs in my case.—I have forgotten some things particularly worthy remark: Such as, one night I was set upon by a French captain when out of town; but the Lord remarkably delivered me and brought me back again. So the Lord has let me see, I might have been staged for worse actions. So that I have no ground but to be for God while I live, and bless his name that ever honoured me with this dignity of suffering for his name and honourable cause.