_ > - -. ' . ‘ . ~ _ . > _ ' ‘ n * _ - __. ‘‘ . ' d ‘ ' . 4 . rs ‘ n _ ‘ a ‘ ‘I. ‘ . V . ‘- ID‘ 1 ‘w. 1-" w‘ ‘ ' ' ' . W R . > s ‘ ‘‘ - ‘ . ‘O O. r. a '.. ' - . _ ‘ ‘ w . ‘ b ' - . > _ . n .3 w W _ ‘A _ a . >n.” T \ ‘ ' ' > ‘ . 0 .0‘ > > .> ‘ > _ - _ ' ' 4 _ ‘ _. - ‘ ' ‘ "5w“ -- ‘ > - . Q ‘ ‘ _. ‘ -‘ ~ . ‘ . - .. I? ‘ - . - ‘ U. - ' 4 > _ 'l > . )- ' . ‘ '> a y - _ _ " ‘ z' . > - ~ _ -'' ‘:1 ‘ > ' ‘ - . _ ‘ . ‘ _ 7 _ ‘. w, ‘ _ H 7. w' ._ n. -. w J ‘ .>» . _ . ‘ - . 1..! 5'1. ~ >" ‘ Q ' _ _ _ r‘ >5 0 >> w w ' . ‘‘ -~ ‘ . v .2 _ J . ‘ . - . w . ' ~ . '1. _ r 1§- ' ' h ' > ‘ i - -' ‘ w, > .. ‘ ~- MF- . ‘ : ‘ N 0 .’ __ . ‘ ~_ k" ~ > . _. 2> __ ‘ ‘ ~- .._ > .. ‘ '1 ‘ f‘ ‘ nI ‘ :. ' - > ‘ d ' - .7 ‘ . ‘ ‘ . ' ' h F ‘ <0 > a.>.. - . - a. ‘ . _ > J, 2 . ‘ - I w.. > .k ' _ ‘ ‘ .._ a ‘ ‘ . m - . ' ‘ 1 - & W ‘ .> . - > q _ " '7 ‘ p . a L . w w 0| ‘ , '-‘ ‘ u a“‘ ., _ '- r . _. v Y‘ 41.: . ~ .i‘ ' . ‘H 1 _ 0' . a ' ~' .. - - . ‘- ' ~ ' '. an ~‘ .. v. ~ . _ -- ~ ‘ _ ‘ ~ ‘ . ; -. > . ‘> w . ~' ‘. ' _ . _ 3 ‘ ~ f < | ' i ~ ' D.. ' % '- ' - ' - . ‘ - . ~0~ . ‘f - ~ A - ~ ‘ . ‘. ' . ‘ ' - ‘ ' . ‘ ‘ . ' ' . "' ' ~ - >- \ g > » ' ‘ ‘_ > ~ . _ . ’ . > _ . _ ~‘ " R . ' - . ~ ‘ ' _ _ 2 M - - ~ . ‘ . _ 1 ‘ ~~ .. ‘ ‘ w. .. v ¢ . - ~ ~ _ . 1 . ' _ . _ ' - _ ‘ v ‘ p. ‘l . > ‘ ‘ > E ' .. 5‘ 'E' "'. q p .- > -w. --.- .~. ' -..~ v ‘ . - _ ‘ _ x . ‘ ~ a -1 _ t -_ . P _ . - 1 . 2 .‘ a ‘ >4 ' ‘ . ‘ 7-- l- ‘ N t ‘ _ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ —\~.n. ' “Mercy. mercy!’ cried Lucy. now fully alive to the horrors of her lover's situation; and dragging herself to the feet of Claverhouse. she seized his band. and beaonght him in the most heart-reuding terms to spare her lover." TALES, I. .\ LEGENDS, HISTORICAL REMINISCENGES OF THE SCOTTISH GOVENANTERS. BY ELLEN EMMA GUTHRIE. '1 ./L ./ SECOND EDITION. GLASGOW & LONDON: W. R. M‘PHUN. BOOKSELLEB AND PUBLISHER 'ro H.B.H. THE PRINCE goxson'r. 1862. (JASGOW': PRINTED BY DUNN AND WRIGHT‘, WEST NILE STREET. CONTENTS. Page A TALE OF Bo'rawnm. BRIDGE, Tm; LAIBD oF CULZEAN, 70 PznEN’s STONE, 87 THE MURDER OF INCHDABNIE, 116 THE LAIBD OF LAG, 184 THE SU'roB's SEAT, 268 INTRODUCTION. Tll'E kings of old have shrine and tomb In many a minster's haughty gloom; And green along the ocean's side The mounds arise where heroes died; But show me on thy flowery breast, Earth! where thy nameless martyrs rest! The thousands that, uncheer'd by praise, Have made one ofl'ering of their days; For Truth, for Heaven, for Freedom’s sake, Resigned the bitter cup to take; And silently, in fearless faith, Bowing their noble souls to death Where sleep they, Earth ‘ll—“by no proud stone Their narrow couch of rest is known; The still, sad glory of their name Hallows no mountain into fame. No—not a tree the record bears 0f their deep thoughts and lonely prayers. Yet haply all around lie strew’d The ashes of that multitude. It may be that each day we tread Where thus devoted hearts have bled; And the young flowers our children sow Take root in holy dust below. vi. 0, that the many rustling leaves, Which round our home the summer weaves, Or that the streams, in whose glad voice Our own familiar paths rejoice, Might whisper through the starry sky, To tell where those blest slumberers lie Would not our inmost hearts be thnll'd With notice of their presence fill’d, And by its breathings taught to prize The meekness of self-sacrifice '2— But the old woods and sounding waves Are silent of these hidden graves. Yet, what if no light footstep there In pilgrim love and awe repair, So let it be !—like him whose clay, Deep buried by his Maker lay, They sleep in secret—but their sod, Unknown to man, is marked of God! Mas Hmmxs. SCOTLAND is indeed a land of romance. Her monldering ruins are linked with legends and historical associations which must ever enhance their interest in the eyes of those who love to gaze on these the Standing mementos of another age ; and the pages of her history teem with deeds of chivalry and renown that have won for Scotland a mighty name. Thus, while the annals of our country are emblazoned with the deathless names of those mighty heroes who fought and bled in defence of her freedom from spiritual bondage, the nameless mound, or simple cairn of stones, vii. still to be met with on the solitary heath or sequestered dell, marks the spot where rests some humble champion of her religious liberties. Although three hundred years have passed away— marked in their flight by great and startling events— since the reign of persecution in Scotland, yet the hearts of her peasantry cling with fondness to the remembrance of those hallowed days sealed by the blood of her faith ful martyrs. Still is the name of Claverhouse execrated by them, and the story of “ John Brown” is related from children to children while seated around the cottage hearth, in illustration of the lawless doings of the Covenunters’ foes. It must strike the mind of every unprejudiced ob server, who reads the various histories of that stirring time, that the shocking and barbarous crnelties practised on the defenders of the Covenant by their relentless enemies, will ever remain a stain on the memories of those who countenanccd or took an active part in such proceedings. scarcely is there a churchyard extant in Scotland, laying claim to antiquity, that does not contain one or more stones, the half-obliterated inscriptions of which attest the fact, that underneath lies some poor victim of persecnting zeal. Having lately visited different parts of Scotland in timately connected with many of the events which took Place at that memorable time, I experienced an inex viii. pressihle satisfaction in the reception I met with at the difl'erent farm-houses in the neighbourhood, and hearing from the lips of their simple inhabitants the story of the cruel wrongs inflicted on the Covenanters in the days of their persecution. During these pleasant wanderings, I gathered informa. tion sufiicient to furnish the Tales contained in the present volume, in which the reader will, I trust, find much thht is calculated to awaken fresh interest in those benefactors of our country, whose magnanimity and patient endurance were worthy of all praise, and who, for the cause of Christ and his Crown, laid down their lives on the scaflold or amidst the burning faggots. THE SCOTTISH COVENANTERS. A TALE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE. WHILE staying at -—-, in the parish of W--—--, I discovered that a standard, borne by the Covenanters at Bothwell Bridge, was still to be seen at the farm of WVestcroft. Being very desirous of viewing this inter‘ csting relic, I set off one fine morning in the hope of obtaining a_ glimpse of the time-honoured banner. ' On reaching the village of H , which lay on my way, I observed a very portly-looking woman standing by the side of the road, apparently enjoying the grateful breeze, as she looked east and then west, evidently in search of something amusing or exciting. Being now somewhat at a loss in what direction to turn my steps, I crossed over to where she was standing, in the expecta tion of obtaining from her the requisite information, when the following dialogue ensued:— “Would you be so kind as to tell me the way to Westoroft ?” B 10 TALES or THE COVEXANTERS. “ That I will. I'll just go wi’ you a step or two and show you the farm itsel'. But what are ye wanting at lVestcroft, if I may ask the question 'I” “I wish to see Mr. Anderson, as I understand he has got a standard that was borne at Bothwcll Bridge.” “ He has that—he has that; but it’s often away free home, ta’en to Glasgow and the like, for ye see it's something to say, a body has seen the like o’ that.” “ From what I have heard, this seems to have been a great part of the country for the Covenanters to take refuge in.” “'Deed an’ it was, but for my part I dinna ken much aboot them ; my brotheg, again, was a great antiquarian, and rale ta’cu up about these auld affairs.” “ Does he live near here '2” “Chi mam, he‘s dead ;” and after a short pause added, “Now, you see that white house forenent the road “ Yes.” “ll’ell, that’s Westcroft ; and if \Villie Anderson be at home, yc’ll get plenty 'o‘ cracks about the Covenanters, for he has lots o’ bees in his bonnet, him.” After thanking the good humoured dame for her information—upon which she replied I was welcome-— 1 turned up the path leading to Westcroft. In answer to my reque<t to see Mr. Anderson, I was informed he was in the fields; but that Mrs. A. was within, upon which a very intelligent-looking woman came forward. and, on my expressing a wish to see the standard, desired me to come ben, and i should have a sight o’ the "colours. A TALE or BOTHWELL BRIDGE. 11 Following the mistress of the house, I was speedily ushered into a tidy little room, the walls of which were adorned with pictures, the most striking of which was one entitled “ The Guardsman’s Farewell,” representing a gallant son of Mars in a most gorgeous uniform, on horseback, taking leave of a stout woman, attired in a yellow polka—jacket and a crimson Petticoat, who was gazing upwards in the face of the departing soldier, with a look of agony impossible to describe.