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Home » Publications » Free Presbyterian Magazine » 1930 » February 1930 » Notices of the Martyrs and Confessors of Lesmahagow

Notices of the Martyrs and Confessors of Lesmahagow

BY THE REV. CHARLES THOMSON, OF NORTH SHIELDS
(LATTERLY FREE CHURCH MINISTER, WICK).

III.

(Continued from Page 340).

AFTER the Earl of Airley’s tenant had departed to his own country, the Gudewife of Waterhead returned with her children, and occupied the farm. She found nothing but desolation, where there had formerly been peace and plenty:—of what little provision and other necessaries she had contrived to procure, she was soon plundered by another marauding expedition of the persecutors; and for a considerable time the family had little else to live on but milk. Her husband now repeatedly ventured home, from his retreat on Mennock-hill, and gave orders respecting the farm. On a certain evening, a party of persecutors came to the house, and seemed disposed to stay all night. Mrs Steel was greatly alarmed for the safety of her gudeman; for he had appointed to be home early next morning to sow some barley. She was terrified lest he should keep his appointment, and thus fall into the hands of them that sought his life. She therefore lifted up her soul to God; and that presence of mind and decision of character, with which he had so remarkably blessed her, did not forsake her on this trying occasion. It was impossible to advertise her husband of his danger, as it was quite uncertain where he might be; but she feigned herself to be in a violent rage, as, indeed, well she might, at the persecutors; and all night stayed without doors, constantly attended by some of the enemy; and in a most furious and frantic manner, and as loud as she could cry, loaded them with the most opprobrious epithets. The persecutors retaliated, and a mighty uproar was produced, and continued during the live long night which was just what the sagacious Gudewife wished. When the morning began to dawn, she saw her afflicted husband dimly appear, at a little distance, upon the open plain of Cairnhouse, approaching homewards. His danger was extreme; for he was coming straight upon his enemies; and a few minutes more would have sealed his doom. But he was not forsaken in this emergency. The persecutors never observed him—his wife, in her anxiety, lifted up her voice louder than ever; he heard it; and, to her inexpressible joy, he stopped for a moment, and then cowered down into a furrow. She then dexterously withdrew into the house those of the persecutors who had accompanied her all night without doors, and gradually became composed, and at length cheerful. Steel, in the meanwhile, arose from the furrow, and escaped. The soldiers soon suspected that she had outwitted them; and, having cursed her for her cunning, saying that she had given her husband a sign, they departed.

One summer morning, a child of the Covenanter’s was taken unwell; and he set out early to get some things for his sick infant at a little shop at Waterside, about a mile down the Logan. When he was over against Scorriholm, a party of dragoons appeared on the opposite bank. John Steel turned up Scorriholm Cleuch, a glen on the south side of Logan Water; but he was soon observed, and hotly pursued by the cavalry. The ground on both sides of this glen being firm, they would probably soon have surrounded him; but he ran across a swamp, on the north side of the cleuch, where the ground was so soft, that the horsemen could not follow. The commanding officer ordered half of his men to turn up the north side of the morass. Steel then turned a little to the south, into the middle of the flowe*; which not being very broad, both parties of the persecutors kept up a constant fire upon him. The people of the neighbouring farms, were all out on the tops of eminences, lifting up their hearts in prayer before the Lord, for the deliverance of their friend. The firing was so close, that they who stood at Auchrobert, said he was for some time concealed by the smoke, and they thought that he had fallen; but when he emerged into view, running strongly through the morasses, a shout of thrilling joy simultaneously burst from the spectators. Encouraged by this, and calling up all his vigour, he ran over the heights above Cleuch-head. All the cavalry were detained and put about by the bogs, except one dragoon; who struggled through, and fired upon the Covenanter but without effect. He furiously pursued him over the top of the hill; and had got so near, that his sword was lifted up to hew down the disciple of Jesus to the ground. But at this critical moment, the Lord arose, and disappointed him, and cast him down, and delivered the soul of His servant, from the wicked and the bloody man. The horse fell with his rider beneath him. Steel turned back to take his musket; but, seeing the rest of the party coming over the hill at full gallop, he continued his flight, and got into Hareslack Flowe, an extensive and impassible morass, about two miles distant from the place where the pursuit began. The soldiers finding that they could proceed no farther, cried out, “Stand ye dog, and be shot.” Steel replied, “Ye are in the devil’s service, and will be weel paid for’t; ye may just rin whare ye canna ride.” A cloud of mist came down from the neighbouring mountains, which soon concealed the wearied Christian in its friendly shadow. The dragoons retired, cursing the mist, and experiencing great difficulty in getting all their horses safely through the bogs; while the Covenanter prosecuted his course, and reached Logan House, to the great joy of its worthy inhabitants, just as the shepherd, who had seen part of the pursuit, came running—crying out with tears, “Braw Johnnie Steel is shot this morning.” Waterhead could now sing—

“Thou art my hiding-place, thou shalt
From trouble keep me free;
Thou with songs of deliverance,
About shalt compass me.”

*Flowe, a deep morass.—Jamieson.

Several instances are related, both in history and by tradition, of the Covenanter being delivered by the providential intervention of mist between them and their persecutors. One is recorded in the life of Peden. He with some others, had been hotly pursued, both by horse and foot, for a considerable way. At last, getting some little height between them and their persecutors, he stood still, and said, “Let us pray here, for if the Lord hear not our prayers, and save us, we are all dead men.” Then he prayed, and said, “O Lord, this is the hour and the power of thine enemies; they may not be idle! But hast thou no other work for them than to send them after us? Send them after those to whom thou wilt gie strength to flee; for our strength is gane. Twine them about the hill, O Lord! and cast the lap of thy cloak over puir auld Saunders, and thir puir things, and save us this ae time; and we will keep it in remembrance, and tell to the commendation of thy gudeness, thy pity, and compassion, what thou didst for us at sic a time.” And in this he was heard; for a cloud of mist was interposed immediately between them and their persecutors; and, in the meantime, orders came to the soldiers to go in quest of James Renwick, and a great company with him.

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