The struggle, begun in the father’s reign, was continued during that of his son Charles I. When he openly enforced the same religious system upon his northern subjects, they once more renewed their national pledge to that which they believed to be right. And thus, a third time, the covenant became the standard round which many an honest-hearted Scot rallied, although many a mistaken notion existed as to how their desires should be carried out. It was a touching and never-to-be-forgotten scene which was witnessed in Greyfriars’ churchyard in Edinburgh, on the memorable first of March, 1638! The spirit of the nation was aroused, and all classes were represented there. Crowds pressed to sign, till every space was filled on which a name could be written.
The signing of this document gave the name of covenanters to those who did so, and all who took up a similar course afterward, were called by the same name. Their ruling desire was to be allowed to serve God according to their conscience, though, with it, a good deal of attention was given to the maintenance of that civil form of government which was preferred. Other covenants had been made and signed, such as the “First” in 1557, the “Second” in 1559, the “Solemn League and Covenant” in 1643; but we enter not into the details of each or any.
The struggle extended over many years, and suffering even to death, followed in cases where liberty of conscience was dearer than even life itself, and the honor of Christ more precious than the favor of the king.
So bitter did the contest between king and people become, that at length it was considered a crime to be found in companies, singing psalms, praying, or reading the Word of God. Consequently, men, women, and children, were wont to meet in secret hiding-places unknown to their cruel persecutors. The hillside, the sheltered valley, the mountain cave, each afforded the quiet spot of concealment which was necessary to escape the watchful eye of the enemy.
Such gatherings have ever been common in lands where liberty of conscience was denied, and where a possibility existed for the people of God to come together in this way. In the days of Wycliffe, these secret meetings were called conventicles, and by this name we also speak of the secret meetings of the covenanters and many other persecuted Christians.
In the days of the Huguenots, the buildings in which they were accustomed to meet had been demolished by the king’s command, and, at first, the people met amid the wreck and ruin of that which they had held so dear. Hunted from such well-known places, they then took refuge in hills and valleys far from the eyes of their cruel persecutors.
With the Scotch, the case was slightly different, yet in principle, it was the same. In their country, both preacher and people were obliged to resort to open-air meetings, not because their buildings were destroyed, but because they looked upon them as dishonored by the pride and will of man. So they turned their backs on places, hitherto sacred to them as spots where the name of God was revered, and made the hills and dales their meeting-places. Many an hour was thus spent by preacher and people, happy in the hallowed occupations of the time, though they nearly always met at the risk of their lives.
To avoid detection, they often came together in the darkness of the night, or at break of day, as seemed most suitable at the time. In addition to these hidden hours of night, the noon-day sun did not hinder, but sometimes looked down upon a persecuted people holding a conventicle in God’s free air, under the blue canopy of heaven. On the green sward, or the purple heather, their hearts were glad to escape from the tyranny of men, to listen to the teaching which they truly valued. Large numbers thus met as covenanters, though many, doubtless, may only have been attached to a form. Still, there were not a few believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, who were ready to suffer and to die while they endeavored to follow Him.
By the laws of both England and Scotland, in the latter part of the seventeenth century, any person over sixteen years of age could be fined, imprisoned, or even transported, for attending a conventicle. Any gathering was considered such where five persons were met privately for religious purposes, in addition to those composing the household. Every care, therefore, was required when such a meeting took place. Watchers were posted near, and these gave the alarm when the enemy came in sight. Sometimes the whole of the people suddenly dispersed, and the dragoons could find no one to torment. On other occasions, they arrived in time to scatter them in confusion. Yes, and they used to the utmost their murderous weapons, in blind hatred and fanatic zeal.
Large conventicles were held in places where the country for nearly fifty miles round could be watched. This left ample freedom for the voice of praise to be raised in the singing of psalms, and the preacher’s tones could not reach the enemy’s ear. One writer describes such a meeting as being surrounded by three circles of sentinels, each within the other.
The men farthest off were ready to give the signal the instant that the enemy could be seen. The second circle took it up, and passed on the notice to the inner one, and this last made known the fact to the assembly of people within. All could be very quickly done by some familiar signal, such as the firing of a gun, so that the nearest mounted sentinel could speedily reach the company thus encircled.
On such occasions thousands met in some suitable hollow, where rising grounds on every side enabled the sentinels to keep watch over a large tract of country. These watchers were men interested in the conventicles, like those who listened, but who, for the good of the whole, were content to be at a distance from the beloved company. They were quick to perceive the presence of any person unfavorable to them, hence it is not surprising that the covenanters were able to meet often, and separate unmolested.
At such meetings the Bible was read and explained by the preacher, fervent prayer went up to God, and the Psalms of David, arranged in meter, were sung with great solemnity. The people were encouraged and counseled to persevere even unto death. And such it often proved to be, for they were sometimes rudely surprised, and the whole company suddenly routed by a party of soldiers. Then, indeed, a sad and mournful sight ensued. Defenseless women and helpless children touched not the hearts of these ruthless men. The weak and the aged suffered alike, for their pursuers seemed to have hearts of stone. So the green sward was dyed with the blood of the slain, and the prisoners’ groans fell sadly on the ear.
Like the Vaudois and the Huguenots, the Covenanters of Scotland took up arms in self-defense when oppression was heavy upon them. We touch not on their battles or warfare, however, leaving that to able historians to write of, desiring rather to look upon the patient, peaceful side, when they suffered wrong even unto death. While many sat listening to the gospel, armed and ready to fight in case of need, not a few chose the better part of refusing to defend themselves by warlike weapons.
The grand old mountains of Scotland, the smiling valleys of the south of France, and the rocky heights where dwelt the Vaudois, have all been witnesses of similar scenes. There were occasions on which the eye might have gazed on a goodly company, reverently occupied with the invisible God. On bended knee, with uplifted heart and hand, they took Him to witness that they desired to serve the living and true God. Approaching that holy One in the precious, all-prevailing name of Jesus, the Son of God, their words were known and heard in His unsullied light. Many a heart poured out its tale of sorrows, and the cry rose up to heaven in the ear of Him who hears and answers prayer.
The soothing power of God’s own Word was sweet indeed to these suffering ones, and they were desirous of obeying the truths they learned there. Contrasted with those hallowed, memorable days, there were others equally notable, but full of woe. Then violence, bloodshed, slaughter, rent their hearts and thinned their homes, as they wandered hither and thither in deepest suffering. For those dread hours of sorrow and for the happy moments of peace, they had, however, the same unchanging God. They tasted of His love as it flowed forth to them in life through Jesus the Saviour, and it was their solace in death, as they passed onwards to the ceaseless joys of a glorious eternity.
“What heights and depths of love divine,
Will there through endless ages shine!”