NO story of religious persecution conducted by an English Government is more shameful than that with which the Scottish Covenanters were pursued in the latter part of the seventeenth century. We read with horror and indignation of the burnings and martyrdoms under Queen Mary, but, at the most, the number of those slain by her in obedience to Papal power, amounted to a few hundreds, while the hangings and hunting to death of the Covenanters, under the tyranny of the Stuarts, are to be reckoned by thousands.
England freed itself from the supremacy of the Pope in Henry the Eighth's reign, and in that of his daughter Elizabeth. The last military effort of the Pope to regain his supremacy in this island came to naught. For really the Armada of King Philip of Spain, and his great scheme for subduing England, were undertaken in the interest of the Pope. But the English kings of the Stuart line who succeeded Elizabeth were friendly to the Roman Catholic religion, and there can be no doubt that they were really Romanists, pledged to destroy the Bible liberty which had entered our land.
The truth of the Scriptures had taken firm hold of multitudes in Scotland, and when their Christian liberty was endangered by the laws made by the Jameses and Charleses, numbers of Scotchmen banded together with a solemn determination to follow the teaching of the Bible. "We covenant," said they, "to refuse all company with idolatry." "We vow, by the grace of God, that we shall with all diligence apply the whole power, substance, and our very lives, to maintain, set forward, and establish the most blessed Word of God.”
The pro-Romish Kings of England, while professing friendship for the Covenanters, were in heart bitter against them, and deluded them by promises of liberty which they never fulfilled. After a while Charles the First introduced his Romish principles, and tried to force them upon the faithful Scotch. In response to this effort the nation uprose in determined indignation, and multitudes of men, from all parts of the land, hastened to Edinburgh, and in the Greyfriars' Churchyard they signed the Covenant, the terms of which accorded with the sentences just given; and so eager were these brave men of old that many signed their names with their own blood.
When Charles the Second ascended the throne in 1660 he promised the Scotch the liberty they were determined to have or to die for. By "solemn oath in the presence of Almighty God, the Searcher of hearts," he professed his "allowance and approbation of the National Covenant." But, so far from keeping his oath, Charles set to work to destroy the liberty of the Covenanters. Public meetings were forbidden, books were condemned, and the Parliament in London, in its mean subservience to the King, passed the Declaration, "that the ordering and disposal of the external government and policy of the Church doth properly belong unto His Majesty, as an inherent right of the Crown, by virtue of his royal prerogative and supremacy in causes ecclesiastical." This Declaration made the King practically a pope. It gave him authority over men's faith, and, as we shall see, caused the most horrible enormities to be perpetrated. "The divine right of kings" to persecute and destroy their subjects is far from the constitution and the present throne of our land; but if the Papal party could procure an answer to their prayers and place once more a Romanist over England, the blood that was poured out two centuries ago would surely once again flood our country.
Sooner than be slaves to the King's supremacy, with its accompanying Papal teachings, four hundred brave Scotch ministers left their homes in midwinter and their places of worship in response to this Declaration of the English Parliament, and they faced starvation.
They were prohibited from preaching under penalty of death, and all who attended their meetings did so under the same penalty. Such were the laws of Old England some two hundred years ago! We cry out against the King of Spain and his Armada, and Popish efforts to subdue our land—do not let us forget the King of England and his Parliament in 1662.
In the bitter and shameful persecution that arose, one of the first to suffer was the Marquis of Argyle, the man of the greatest influence in Scotland, and the greatest man who had signed the Covenant. "Behead the Marquis of Argyle!" cried Charles, and thus, according to the divine right of kings, in 1661 the Marquis was hurried to the scaffold. In the prison he made use of these memorable words to his friends: "Mind that I tell you it: my skill fails if you will not suffer much, or sin much." And on the scaffold he repeated to the assembled people the same solemn words: "We are tied by covenants to religion and reformation. These times are likely to be very sinning or very suffering times, and let them make their choice. There is a sad dilemma in this business-sin or suffer; and surely he that will choose the better part will choose to suffer.”
And Scotland did suffer. She poured out her blood for the Bible. Let us peruse the inscription on the martyrs' monument in Gray-friars' Churchyard, Edinburgh, and hearken to its solemn voice—
“Halt, passenger, take heed what you do see;
This tomb doth spew, for what some men did die.
Here lies interr'd the dust of those who stood
Gainst perjury, resisting unto blood;
Adhering to the Covenants, and laws
Establishing the same; which was the cause
Their lives were sacrific'd unto the lust
Of Prelatists abjur'd. Though here their dust
Lies mixt with murderers, and other crew,
Whom justice justly did to death pursue;
But as for them, no cause was to be found
Worthy of death, but only they were sound,
Constant and steadfast, zealous, witnessing
For the Prerogatives of Christ their King;
Which Truths were seal'd by famous Guthrie's head,
And all along to Mr. Renwick's blood.
They did endure the wrath of enemies,
Reproaches, torments, deaths, and injuries.
But yet they're those who from such troubles came,
And now triumph in glory with the Lamb.
“From May 27th, 1661, that the most noble Marquis of Argyle was beheaded, to the 17th February, 1688, that Mr. James Renwick suffered, were one way or other Murdered and Destroyed for the same Cause, about eighteen thousand, of whom were execute at Edinburgh about an hundred of Noblemen, Gentlemen, Ministers, and Others, noble Martyrs for Jesus Christ. The most of them lie here.”
The Covenanters not only signed the Covenant with their blood—thousands of them sealed it with their blood.
We select from "The Heroes and Heroines of the Scottish Covenanters” a few touching incidents.
The death penalty was attached by the law of the Declaration mentioned, to the nonattendance at the Episcopal church, where Romish doctrines and practices prevailed. Three children of the name of Wilson, whose hearts were given to God, attended the field meetings of the Covenanters, and thereby brought themselves under the power of the law.
“Their youth protected them for a time from the fury of the oppressors, and their absence from the parish church was winked at, but one morning Margaret Wilson, aged eighteen, Thomas, aged sixteen, and Agnes, aged thirteen, were reported by the curate as defaulters in church attendance.
“' Send the dragoons after them,' said the cruel Grierson of Lagg, ' and we'll teach them their duty.'
“A friendly hint was given to the Wilsons that the children were to be arrested, and a family council was held.
“And that night, after an affectionate farewell, the three wandered out to the moss-hags in search of a hiding-place from the dragoons.
“The cave in which these noble children hid may be seen today by the curious. It has slightly altered its form through frosts and rain. It has been formed by two large slabs of stone, like the legs of an A, resting against each other. A small stone covers the mouth of it, and this was covered by some wild brambles and tufts of heather. It was small, wet, and necessarily uncomfortable, but here they spent the whole day, and at night searched for food.
“On the death of Charles II., when the country was filled with hopes of a more lenient policy, the young Wilsons were advised by some of their Covenanting friends that they could now go safely home. They were a little timid about going to their parents' house, and went rather to the house of a widow, about seventy years of age, named Margaret M'Lauchlan. Whilst at the widow's house, Margaret Wilson met a man named Patrick Stuart, whom she knew well, and who had received much kindness from her father, and this man informed the authorities where the children were. Soon a company of dragoons sought them out, and the two girls were arrested and thrown into the horrible place called ' The Thieves' Hole.'
“They were brought up for trial, together with the widow; and, as they maintained their position, this sentence was passed upon them.
“' Upon the 11th of May ye shall be tied to stakes fixed within the flood-mark in the water of Blednock, near Wigton, where the sea flows at high water, there to be drowned.'
“It was a beautiful May morning, and the crowds of people dressed in their best attire made it look more like a gala than a procession of death.
“The sight of the two large stakes erected in the sand, one thirty yards further out than the other, took the color from the cheeks of more than the prisoners. Women began to weep, and men began to clench their fists and grind their teeth. It required but one man to lead, and they would have torn the soldiers to pieces; but the leader was not there.
“`We are called upon this day to give a worthy testimony for our Lord. He hath done us much good and no ill these years we have served Him. This day shall we behold Him in the glory of His risen power, and I do rejoice the end is so near at hand,' said Margaret to the widow, who had now become courageous.
“The widow was marched out to the stake nearest the sea and there tied securely. 'Though I walk through the valley of the shallow of death I will fear no evil; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me,' she said, quietly; and her face had a new light in it, as though the sea, gilded with the golden sun, had reminded her of the City of God.
“Higher and higher came the water, and the women on the beach turned their heads away as it reached her waist, and at the same time touched the feet of Margaret Wilson.
“The Lord will this day cleave the waters of death asunder for me, and I shall behold the Lamb in His beauty,' she cried out to the weeping crowd.
“The water had now reached the widow's neck, and Lagg and others began to make sport of her as they saw her strain her neck to keep out of the water. A wave passed over her, and the struggle of death began. Margaret Wilson saw the struggles of the widow, and her voice was raised in prayer that God would take Margaret M'Lauchlan to Himself.
“What thinkest thou of that? ' said a soldier to Wilson, pointing to the death-struggles of the widow.
“What do I think! I see Christ in one of His members wrestling there. Think you that we are the sufferers? No, it is Christ in us, for He sends none a warfare upon their own charges.'
“She then began to sing the twenty-fifth Psalm, and those on the beach who had lost their timidity joined her in some of the lines:
“The Lord is good and gracious,
He upright is also;
He therefore sinners will instruct
In ways that they should go.'
“As the water crept on towards her shoulders, she closed her eyes in prayer.
“' God receive my spirit,' said Margaret, as the water once or twice lapped her face. There was the gasping of drowning, and, to the joy of all, a soldier rushed into the water, cut Margaret's bonds, and brought her to the shore.
“The people shouted with glee, and the mother wept for joy. It was unheard-of mercy, and though Margaret seemed more dead than alive, the remedies they used soon restored her to consciousness.
“It was then seen that the mercy was the work of a fiend, and not of a human heart. Lagg's sport was too soon coming to an end, and he had restored her to life to torture her again. Major Windram went forward and began to test her.
“Will you pray for the King?’
“I wish the salvation of all men and the damnation of none,' she answered meekly. "Oh, Margaret! why will you throw away your life?' said her mother in terrible agony. Say, 'God save the King, God save the King.'" God save him if He will; for it is what I often have prayed for, and do pray for now. But, mother, you do not understand these monsters.'
“Sir, my daughter hath said it, she hath said it—let her 'go free! ' said the mother, frantically, throwing herself at the Major's feet.
“Margaret had meanwhile closed her eyes in prayer. She knew, instinctively, that they had determined on her death.
“'See, my daughter is praying for the King,' said Mrs. Wilson, pointing to her daughter.
“' We want none of her prayers,' said the brutal Lagg. 'Tender her the abjuration oath, and, if she refuse, let her drink some more of the sea.'
“I am ready for death; I will not take the oath. I trust God may forgive you this murder before your hour of death comes. I am one of Christ's children, and have done naught worthy of death.'
“Back to the sea! back to the sea with the hag!' cried Lagg; and two soldiers lifted her in their arms, waded in as far as they could, and then flung her headlong into the sea. They then pushed her head under the water with the butt ends of their guns.
“The story of the Wigton martyrs spread like fire over the length and breadth of Scotland, and inspired the Covenanters with joy that two of their number had been so faithful. It caused many Royalists to become friends of the Covenanters, afterward.”
After the persecution had raged many years, it died out. The English boast of the discomfited Spanish Armada, and thank God for His winds, which blew their galleons to destruction. Let the Scotch glory in the noble army of thousands of martyrs, whose blood poured out upon their moors and glensides, who at length drove to their doom the army of their persecutors. Ever may Scotland's sons "refuse all company with idolatry," and "apply their whole power, substance, and their very lives, to maintain, set forward, and establish the most blessed Word of God.”