by John Galt
CHAPTER LXXIV
The council-room was full of people when I was taken thither, and theLord Kelburne, who sat at the head of the table, was abetted in theproceedings by Murray, an advocate from Edinburgh. They were sitting ata wide round table, within a fence which prevented the spectators frompressing in upon them. There were many papers and letters folded up inbundles lying before them, and a candle burning, and wax forsigillation. Besides Lord Kelburne and his counsellor, there were diversgentlemen seated at the table, and two clerks to make notations.
Lord Kelburne, in his appearance, was a mild-looking man, and for hisyears his hair was very hoary; for though he was seemingly not passingfifty, it was in a manner quite blanched. In speech he was moderate, indisposition indulgent, and verily towards me he acted in his harsh dutywith much gentleness.
But Murray had a doure aspect for his years, and there was a smile amonghis features not pleasant to behold, breeding rather distrust and dreadthan winning confidence or affection, which are the natural fruit of acountenance rightly gladdened. He looked at me from aneath his brows asif I had been a malefactor, and turning to the Lord Kelburne, said,--
"He has the true fanatical yellow look."
This was a base observe; for naturally I was of a fresh complexion, butmy long illness, and the close air of the prison, had made me pale.
After some more impertinences of that sort, he then said,--
"Ringan Gilhaize, you were at the battle of Bothwell-brigg."
"I was not," said I.
"You do not mean to say so, surely?"
"I have said it," was my answer.
Whereupon one of the clerks whispered to him that there were three ofthe name in the list.
"O!" cried he, "I crave your pardon, Ringan; there are several personsof your name; and though you were not at Bothwell yourself, maybe ye kenthose of your name who were there,--Do you?"
"I did know two," was my calm answer; "one was my brother, and the othermy son."
All present remained very silent as I made this answer; and the LordKelburne bending forward, leant his cheek on his hand as he rested hiselbow on the table, and looked very earnestly at me. Murray resumed,--
"And pray now, Ringan, tell us what has become of the two rebels?"
"They were covenanted Christians," said I; "my son lies buried withthose that were slain on that sore occasion."
"But your brother; he was of course younger than you?"
"No; he was older."
"Well, well, no matter as to that; but where is he?"
"I believe he is with his Maker; but his body lies among the rocks atthe bottom of the Orkney seas."
The steadiness of the Lord Kelburne's countenance saddened into the lookof compassion, and he said to Murray,--
"There is no use in asking him any more questions about them; proceedwith the ordinary interrogatories."
There was a murmur of satisfaction towards his Lordship at this; andMurray said,--
"And so you say that those in the late rebellion at Bothwell were notrebels?"
"I said, sir, that my son and my brother were covenanted Christians."
This I delivered with a firm voice, which seemed to produce some effecton the Lord Kelburne, who threw himself back in his chair, and crossinghis arms over his breast, looked still more eagerly towards me.
"Do you mean then to deny," said Murray, "that the late rebellion wasnot a rebellion?"
"It would be hard, sir, to say what it was; for the causes theretoleading," replied I, "were provocations concerning things of God, and tothose who were for that reason religiously there, I do not think, in aright sense, it can be called rebellion. Those who were there forcarnal motives, and I doubt not there were many such, I fancy everyhonest man may say it was with them rebellion."
"I must deal more closely with him," said Murray to his Lordship; buthis Lordship, before allowing him to put any more questions, saidhimself to me,--
"But you know, to state the thing plainly, that the misguided people whowere at Bothwell had banded themselves against the laws of the realm,whether from religious or carnal motives is not the business we are hereto sift, that point is necessarily remitted to God and theirconsciences."
Murray added, "It is most unreasonable to suppose that every subject isfree to determine of what is lawful to be obeyed. The thought isridiculous. It would destroy the end of all laws which are for theadvantage of communities, and which speak the sense of the generality,touching the matter and things to which they refer."
"My Lord," said I, addressing myself to Lord Kelburne, "it surely willne'er be denied that every subject is free to exercise his discretionwith respek to his ain conduct; and your Lordship kens vera weel that itis the duty of subjects to know the laws of the land; and your Lordshiplikewise knows that God has given laws to all rulers as well assubjects, and both may and ought to know His laws. Now if I, knowingboth the laws of God and the laws of the land, find the one contrary tothe other, undoubtedly God's laws ought to hae the preference in myobedience."
His Lordship looked somewhat satisfied with this answer; but Murray saidto him,--
"I will pose him with this question. If presbyterian government wereestablished, as it was in the year 1648, and some ministers were notfree to comply with it, and a law were made that none should hear themout o' doors, would you judge it reasonable that such ministers or theirpeople should be at liberty to act in contempt of that law."
And he looked mightily content with himself for this subtlety; but Isaid,--
"Really, sir, I canna see a reason why hearkening to a preaching in thefields should be a greater guilt than doing the same thing indoors."
"If I were of your principles," said the advocate, "and thought in myconscience that the laws of the land were contrary to the laws of God,and that I could not conform to them, I would judge it my duty rather togo out of the nation and live elsewhere, than disturb the peace of theland."
"That were to suppose two things," said I; "first, that rulers may makelaws contrary to the laws of God, and that when such laws are once made,they ought to be submitted to. But I think, sir, that rulers being underthe law of God act wickedly and in rebellion to Him, when they makeenactments contrary to His declared will; and surely it can ne'er berequired that we should allow wickedness to be done."
"I am not sure," said Murray to his Lordship, "that I do right incontinuing this irrelevant conversation."
"I am interested in the honest man's defence," replied Lord Kelburne;"and as 'tis in a matter of conscience, let us hear what makes it so."
"Well, then," resumed the advocate, "what can you say to the barbarousmurder of Archbishop Sharp?--You will not contend that murder is notcontrary to the law of God?"
"I ne'er contended," said I, "that any sin was permitted by the law ofGod--far less murder, which is expressly forbidden in the Ten Commands."
"Then ye acknowledge the murder of the Archbishop to have been murder?"
"That's between those that did it and God."
"Hooly, hooly, friend!" cried Murray; "that, Ringan, winna do; was it orwas it not murder?"
"Can I tell, who was not there?"
"Then to satisfy your conscience on that score, Ringan, I would ask you,if a gang of ruffians slay a defenceless man, do or do they not commitmurder?"
"I can easily answer that."
Lord Kelburne again bent eagerly forward, and rested his cheek again onhis hand, placing his elbow on the table, while I continued,--
"A gang of ruffians coming in wantonness, or for plunder, upon adefenceless man, and putting him to death, there can be no doubt ismurder; but it has not yet been called murder to kill an enemy inbattle; and therefore, if the captain of a host go to war without arms,and thereby be defenceless, it cannot be said that those of the adverseparty, who may happen to slay him, do any murder."
"Do you mean to justify the manner of the death of the Archbishop?"exclaimed the advocate, starting back and spreading out his arms inwonderment
.
"'Deed no, sir," replied I, a little nettled at the construction hewould put upon what I said; "but I will say, even here, what Sir DavieLindsay o' the Mount said on the similar event o' Cardinal Beaton'sdeath,--
'As for this Cardinal, I grant He was the man we might well want; God will forgive it soon: But of a truth, the sooth to say, Although the loon be well away, The fact was foully done.'"
There was a rustle of gratification among all in the court as I said therhyme, and Lord Kelburne smiled; but Murray, somewhat out of humour,said,--
"I fancy, my Lord, we must consider this as an admission that thekilling of the Archbishop was murder."
"I fear," said his Lordship, "that neither of the two questions havebeen so directly put as to justify me to pronounce any decision, thoughI am willing to put the most favourable construction on what haspassed." And then his Lordship, looking to me, added,--
"Do you consider the late rebellion, being contrary to the King'sauthority, rebellion?"
"Contrary to the King's right authority," replied I, "it was notrebellion; but contrary to an authority beyond the right taken by him,despite the law of God, it was rebellion."
"Wherefore, honest man," rejoined his Lordship kindly, "would you make adistinction that may bring harm on your own head? Is not the King'sauthority instituted by law and prerogative, and knowing that, cannot yesay that those who rise in arms against it are rebels?"
"My Lord," said I, "you have my answer; for in truth and in conscience Ican give none other."
There was a pause for a short space, and one of the clerks looking toLord Kelburne, his Lordship said, with a plain reluctance, "It must evenbe so; write down that he is not clear the late rebellion should becalled a rebellion;" and casting his eyes entreatingly towards me, headded, "But I think you acknowledge that the assassination of ArchbishopSharp was a murder?"
"My Lord," said I, "your questions are propounded as tests andtherefore, as an honest man, I cannot suffer that my answers should bescant, lest I might be thought to waver in faith and was backward in mytestimony. No, my Lord, I will not call the killing of Sharp murder; foron my conscience, I do verily think he deserved the death: First,because of his apostacy; second, because of the laws of which he was theinstigator, whereby the laws of God have been contravened; and, third,for the woes that those laws have brought upon the land, the whichstirred the hearts of the people against him. Above all, I think hisdeath was no murder, because he was so strong in his legalities, that hecould not be brought to punishment by those to whom he had caused thegreatest wrong;" and I thought, in saying these words, of my brother'sdesolated daughter--of his own sad death in the stormy seas of theOrkneys--and of my brave and gallant Michael, that was lying in hisshroudless grave in the cold clay of Bothwell.
Lord Kelburne was troubled at my answer, and was about to remonstrate;but seeing the tear start into my eye as those things came into my mind,he said nothing, but nodding to the clerk, he bade him write down that Iwould not acknowledge the killing of the Archbishop a murder. He thenrose and adjourned the court, remanding me to prison, saying that hewould send me word what would be the extent of my punishment.