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16/03/2026

Find hope, find life, find God.

Anyone and everyone is welcome to these simple meetings. There will be no singing and no collection, just a short talk from the Bible and tea and coffee afterwards. There’s no dress code, no expectations, just come as you are.

Tuesday 17 March, 8pm
Speaker: Roland Watt, minister in Killymurris, Glarryford

Wednesday 18 March, 8pm
Speaker: Gary Glasgow, minister in Kilraughts & Armoy

Thursday 19 March, 8pm
Speaker: David McGaughey, minister in Newtowncrommelin & Carnlough

03/03/2026

James Gourlay once farmed the lands of Overton Farm in the village of Overtown, Lanarkshire — a place long vanished, now lying beneath the modern street known as Law View. But though the farm has disappeared, the story of the man who lived there has not.

Gourlay was a committed Covenanter — and a marked man. The king’s dragoons hunted him more than once, yet time and again he slipped from their grasp in the most dramatic fashion.

His first great escape came after the Battle of Battle of Bothwell Bridge, where he had stood with the Covenanter army. When the fighting turned and the rebels fled, soldiers gave chase. Gourlay ran for his life until a high wall blocked his path. With no time to think, he leapt, barely catching the top with his fingertips. As he hauled himself over, musket balls slammed into the stone, whizzing past his head.

That night, soaked and breathless, he hid in the River Clyde — standing up to his neck beneath overhanging bushes — and remained there in the freezing darkness until it was safe to move.

Now declared a wanted man, the dragoons frequently appeared at Overton Farm. On one occasion, they arrived at midnight, hammering at the door in the hope of capturing him. Gourlay sprang from his bed and quickly assessed the danger: soldiers at the front — and at the back. Escape seemed impossible.

But he made his choice.

Quietly drawing back the bolts of the rear door, he suddenly flung it open and burst out with such force that he knocked two soldiers clean off their feet. Before they could recover, he was gone — racing down into the dark shelter of Garrion Gill ravine, swallowed by the night once more.

Another time, his luck appeared to run out. Arrested and bound, he was being marched to Hamilton under guard. On the way, the soldiers stopped at a house for refreshment. Gourlay and the horses were locked inside the stable.

Yet even here, confinement did not defeat him.

Seeing no escape by the door, he climbed onto the back of a horse, reached up to the rafters, and forced a hole through the thick thatched roof. Slipping through the opening, he vanished into the darkness before his captors realised he was gone.

Against all odds, James Gourlay survived the years of persecution. He lived until 1714 and was laid to rest in old Cambusnethan Kirkyard. For many years his gravestone could still be seen, a quiet marker of a life lived on the run for conscience’ sake. Today the stone is gone, and its inscription lost — but the story of the Covenanter who would not be caught endures.

02/03/2026

26/02/2026

29/01/2026

On this day, 29th January 1688, James Renwick, the last Covenanter Field Preacher to be martyred, preached his very last sermon in the town of Borrowstounness (Bo'ness).

Prior to it, he had stopped in Peebles where a secret meeting with supporters had been arranged. But just as it was about to begin, the town erupted in chaos as thieves were chased through the streets. Fearing the disturbance was aimed at breaking up their conventicle and arresting the minister, the meeting was abandoned and Renwick narrowly escaped.

He left and preached on the hills near Edinburgh, before travelling on to Fife before coming to Borrowstounness.

At Borrowstounness he preached from the words of Isaiah 53:1, “Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” It was to be his last ever sermon and consistent of the powerful, Christ-centred preaching that defined his ministry.

We don't know exactly whereabouts in Borrowstounness he preached, but it would have been somewhere outside the town away from official eyes but close enough for locals to reach quietly and escape quickly if necessary.

After his time in Borrowstounness, he returned to Edinburgh on the last day of January where he lodged in a house on the Castle Hill. The owner of the house was believed to be sympathetic to Mr Renwick (he had stayed there before) but unfortunately the house was also frequently searched by Customs officers as contraband goods were sometimes hidden there. One officer, John Justice had been prowling the area that evening when he distinctly heard the sound of prayer coming from the house. He immediately suspected that outlawed persons were inside, possibly Renwick.

Early the next morning the officers forced their way into the house under the pretence of searching for illegal goods, though their true aim was to hopefully seize Renwick, and gain the reward. While the others entered the building, Justice stationed himself at the door to prevent his escape. As James Renwick moved toward the passage, Justice cried out, “My life for it, this is Mr Renwick!” He then shouted that everyone in the house must be taken to the guard to prove “what trade they were of.” Renwick calmly replied “I shall soon show you what my trade is,”.

With the entrances blocked to prevent their escape a scuffle ensued between the officers and those inside, but a pistol shot from Renwick startled his captors and he fled down the Castle Wynd, but a heavy blow to the chest weakened him. He stumbled, was seized in the street, and taken to the guard.

When the captain saw his youthful face, he asked, “Is this the boy Renwick that the nation has been so troubled with?”

Renwick simply replied, with a gentle smile, “I am.”

Prison, trial and death awaited him, but he would be the last field preacher to be executed. As for the rest of the Covenanters, the time of persecution was coming to an end.

22/12/2025

I found this account of a skirmish between Covenanters and government troops that happened at a place called Cumberhead in the parish of Lesmahagow.

The account below is from a letter written by the Duke of Lauderdale to the earl of Linlithgow, 1st April 1679. (I have updated the spelling and language from the old writing.) He writes:

"Early last Sunday morning, Major White (whose company of foot soldiers is stationed at Lanark) received notice that a field conventicle was to be held within the parish of Lesmahagow (which belongs to the Duke of Hamilton). Because it was too far for foot soldiers to march in time to break it up, the Major ordered out a party of twenty dragoons commanded by Lieutenant Dalzell and Ensign Menzies.

On their way, they noticed several people at a distance going to the conventicle, some of whom they pursued. All of them took to the mosses, where the dragoons captured three or four prisoners, leaving six dragoons to guard them. The rest continued on to where the conventicle was held and told the other six to follow.

Before reaching the place, they captured another three prisoners on horseback, well mounted and well armed. Then they observed the location of the conventicle, but from that distance could not see that there were armed men present. They marched forward, putting a hill between themselves and the conventicle, hoping to surprise them.

But when they came over the hill, they saw three companies of foot soldiers drawn up in order—about one hundred men each—and a troop of horse, around sixty strong. About a hundred and twenty of the foot soldiers were armed with muskets and firelocks. The rest carried swords, halberds, pitchforks, and such like. The troop of horse were well mounted; all carried holster pistols, many had carbines, and several wore periwigs and fine cloaks, some of them blue.

When they saw the dragoons advancing (only fourteen men with their officers), the Whigs (Covenanters) drew out a party of eighty foot soldiers and advanced, while the rest moved to surround the dragoons. The dragoon officers required them, in the King’s name, to disperse. The commander of the Whig horse answered disdainfully: “Farts in the King’s teeth, and in the Council’s, and in all who sent you; for we appear here for the King of Heaven.” Immediately the Whig party presented their weapons and fired. The dragoons fired back, and at once the Whig horse and foot fell upon them in a rush, wounding Lieutenant Dalzell mortally in several places, one of them in the groin with a partisan or pitchfork. They captured him and seven dragoons. The Ensign and the other seven dragoons made their retreat and escaped.

The first six dragoons who had been guarding the three prisoners decided it best not to come forward at all, and instead went straight back to Lanark with their prisoners.

This skirmish happened around eleven o’clock on Sunday. Afterwards, they read the Covenant to the Lieutenant as he lay on the ground wounded, and then returned to their conventicle, where they held four sermons and lectures. At seven o’clock that evening, they released the Lieutenant and the seven dragoons they had captured, but kept their horses and arms.

One of the leaders of the Whig foot soldiers is known to be named Cleland, whose father lives in the town of Douglas. The captain of the Whig horse is believed to be one Hamilton, second son of the late Sir Thomas Hamilton of Preston. The rest are not yet known."

22/11/2025

If you were in Glasgow Cathedral around this time 387 years ago, it would not have been the peaceful haven in the heart of the city that it is today. Noise abounded and rowdy crowds packed the galleries as the General Assembly of 1638 took place below.

It’s without a doubt one of the most significant events in Glasgow’s history, although the story traditionally begins in another cathedral…

On 27 July 1637, Jenny Geddes allegedly got up and hurled her stool at the Dean of St Giles in Edinburgh.

Tradition has it that the furious market-trader was objecting to the first public use of the Scottish Episcopal Book of Common Prayer in Scotland, or, more simply, the Scottish Prayer Book.

Geddes’ actions sparked a riot in the High Kirk, which was followed by similar orchestrated riots across the capital and Scotland. The coming year would see more religious unrest, leading to signing of the National Covenant and a seismic General Assembly of 1638 in Glasgow. But what sparked the outrage?

In the 1630s, Charles I, known for his political mismanagement, had made it clear he wanted to bring the Church of Scotland more in line with the Church of England.

His father, James VI & I, had also sought to do this and had done so with some success which had resulted in a hybrid system of church governance between Presbyterianism and Episcopacy.

In the Presbyterian model there is no hierarchy of clergy. Jesus Christ is considered the head of a church governed by a series of courts. The highest of these is the General Assembly. The meetings are overseen by a temporary moderator, and no commissioner has greater voting rights than any other. Episcopal (or Anglican) churches, meanwhile, follow a hierarchical model, governed by bishops.

James’ mix of the two models was accepted, albeit with some resentment. Charles, however, wanted to go further.

At this time Scotland was ruled through a Privy Council. Charles I had little interest in his northern kingdom, or the subtleties required to govern it. He passed several measures that were highly unpopular, creating suspsicion and resentment in all elements of Scottish society.

These included increasing the number of bishops in the Privy Council, which reached new heights when he awarded the highest civic office, the Chancellorship, to the Bishop of St Andrews. This did not go down at all well with the Presbyterian clergy who believed church and state should be kept separate. Many Scottish nobles, who had felt increasingly disenfranchised after the royal court had moved to London in 1603, were also resentful at the growing influence of the bishops.

While the Presbyterian party were in the minority, its leaders were very astute. They were particularly good at exploiting the situation created by Charles, enflamming general dissatisfaction and suspicion.

This came to a head when Charles pushed forward with bringing Scottish liturgy (the way that church services are carried out) in line with England. The introduction of the Scottish Prayer Book, which famously drew the ire of Jenny Geddes, proved the catalyst for significant change.

Crucially, the new prayer book had not been approved by the General Assembly or the Scottish Parliament. Moreover, it had been rumoured to be Roman Catholic in nature. This could exploited by the committed Presbyterian clergy to fuel riots like that sparked by Geddes.

Understandably, after the riots, the clergy and bishops were reluctant to continue trying to use the book. This led the dissenting elements in society to draw up a document that became known as the National Covenant.

The National Covenant was deliberately vague to appeal to as many of the disgruntled factions as possible. Although the bishops and prayer book are not explicitly mentioned, there could have been no misunderstanding that they were being referred to.

It rejected any “innovations” placed on the Scottish church’s reformed worship but emphasises the signatories’ loyalty to the King. Thus, it stopped short of being treasonous.

The Covenant was signed on 28 February 1638 in Greyfriars Kirk in Edinburgh. Copies were sent across Scotland, where it was received enthusiastically, except in the north east. The document would become a rallying point in the coming decades for the party that would become known as the Covenanters.

In the midst of all this, it was announced that, for the first time in nearly 20 years, a General Assembly would be held in Glasgow in November.

Glasgow, having a relatively small population at the time, was probably chosen over Edinburgh to make large scale riots less likely. Still, the Assembly would prove lively and needed to be very carefully managed.

Learn what happened next, on this day in 1638, on our blog: https://blog.historicenvironment.scot/2023/11/general-assembly-1638/

11/11/2025

The man who informed on Richard Cameron (and many others).

One of the most notorious informants of the Covenanters was a man named Robert Cannon of Mardrogat. He often travelled over hills and moors, watching, befriending and leading troops to the persecuted covenanters. What makes his treachery even more wrong was that he been a Covenanter himself and had fought with them at Pentland in 1666.

Wodrow describes him like this:

"Robert Cannon of Mardrogat, who once had a profession of zeal and seriousness, was singularly useful to the soldiers in discovering the haunts and hiding places of the wanderers. This man, as we have heard, was at Pentland, but was lately gained by the managers, and now turned profane and wicked: his lewdness, blasphemy, cursing, swearing, cruelty and dissimulation, were notorious in that country; and, as apostates generally are, he was very bloody. He got money at Edinburgh, and undertook to lead the soldiers to Mr Richard Cameron."

He also goes on to say:

"Robert Cannon is made collector of the cess and excise in Carsphairn, and the neighbourhood; and Inglis, Livingstone, and other commanders of the parties who ravaged up and down, made their searches, and did every thing almost by his direction. In their searches through that country the soldiers used to gather, and where they were unwilling, to seize all the men in the several country houses and villages, and bring them together to one place, then Cannon was sent for, and he knowing many of them, and the sufferers in those bounds, they were kept or let go according to the information he gave about them."

With regards to the Rev Richard Cameron, we have it recorded in an official document that his movements in his final days were given to the authrities and recorded as "part of Mardrogat's intelligence."

31/10/2025