Page 24 of A Fire in Their Hearts

I T’S KNOWN AS THE ‘BLACK BOND’ , at least by those who refuse to take it.

Prisoners are being offered their freedom if they swear an oath never again to take up arms against the king and obtain a bond for their future good behaviour.

News has reached us that this ‘King’s Peace’, as it’s officially called, has already been accepted by hundreds of Covenanters who fought at Bothwell Bridge and weren’t captured, but whose names have subsequently been put on wanted lists held by the authorities.

‘They’re giving up the freedom of their souls for the freedom of their bodies,’ seethes the Reverend Colvil, who is set against the offer.

‘Many will take the oath, both around Scotland and here in this prison,’ says Samuel.

‘Then it’s taken by weak men whose hearts were never truly for the cause,’ says his father.

‘If they fought at Bothwell then they showed courage,’ says Calum.

‘There were plenty at Bothwell who showed us the soles of their shoes as they ran off without firing a single shot, or swinging a weapon even once, including some officers!’ his father thunders.

The Reverend Colvil is like an ancient oak tree that cannot bend. He’ll accept no course of action, no argument, that goes against his beliefs. One day, when the wind is strong enough, he’ll break in two. I don’t want the acorn to be like the oak.

‘I’ve spoken to the other women and they are set on taking the bond,’ I say. ‘Many have children and need to return to their families. They shouldn’t be here.’

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ says Hamish.

Samuel nods his agreement. ‘You can’t be the only woman left.’

‘I won’t leave .?.?. nor will I remain as a woman.’

The reverend turns a questioning gaze on me.

‘I’ve already spoken to one of the people who bring us food. Later today she’s going to slip me some men’s clothing, then I’ll live disguised as a man.’

‘That’s madness,’ exclaims Hamish. ‘Tell her, Samuel. She’s your wife.’

‘And you think that’s enough to make her listen?’ He shakes his head at my brother, but I know there is no anger there for me. ‘Go on, Violet.’

‘I won’t leave, and you can’t actually make me. However, I don’t want to be known as the only female here. Look at us. We’re becoming so reduced by starvation that it won’t be long before the good Lord Himself will struggle to tell man from woman.’

‘Your hair—’

‘I’ll cut it, Hamish! I’ll live as a man and there’s not a Covenanter amongst us who would betray my secret.’

And perhaps it is testament to how beaten we all are that no one argues. Samuel takes my hand and squeezes it, hard.

*?*?*

Hundreds agree to take the Black Bond. Some ministers preach that it should be sworn and others preach that it should not, including Samuel’s father.

Prisoners line up at the gates and in small groups they’re taken under guard around the corner to Greyfriars Kirk where they give their details, speak the words as set out in the King’s Peace and sign their name to the document.

They are then free to travel home as best they can; betraying the cause with every word spoken, with every word written, with every step taken.

‘The enclosure is emptying,’ says Calum, who’s standing with Samuel, Hamish and me, watching as line upon line walk through the gate. ‘I didn’t think so many would accept.’

‘The authorities can’t deal with this many prisoners all in one go,’ says Samuel. ‘There aren’t the courts, judges or jails to cope and so they’ve made an offer that’s simply too attractive for many to refuse.’

‘We’re fighting for freedom to worship and they’ve gained freedom from being prisoners,’ muses Hamish. ‘They’ve lost one to gain the other. I don’t know that I can condemn them for it.’

Calum glances over his shoulder as if to check who is listening. ‘Don’t say that to our father. What these people are promising is never to fight again for the Covenanter cause. He won’t forgive anyone for making such a decision.’

‘I need to speak to him,’ says Samuel. ‘His outspoken criticism is making him too obvious a target for further punishment.’

‘He’ll not be silenced, Samuel,’ I say. ‘And will accept the consequences as God’s will.’

Under my arm I have a large bundle of men’s clothes that my saviour handed over. I gave her what few coins I had plus all of Calum’s. He was the only person I could ask who would simply give me his money without querying why I wanted it. Tomorrow I’ll give her my clothes as well.

‘I need to change. There’s a great deal of confusion at the moment and if I do this now then people will simply assume I’ve signed the bond and left.’

My family shield me while I swap my clothes and my identity.

I’ve been given a long strip of cloth and, as tightly as I can manage, I bind my breasts.

They’re not large. I put on the shirt and jerkin then remove my filthy petticoats before pulling up hose and breeches.

I silently thank the woman, for although the items are old, they’re clean.

The strangest item is the shoes, which are too big. I tear up part of a petticoat and stuff material into the ends, which helps a little. I finish by slipping into a threadbare coat. The Edinburgh woman who has aided me also included a small pair of scissors.

‘Samuel, I would like you to do this.’

He hesitates. ‘That I should cut off your beautiful hair .?.?.’

‘We’ve no choice. Cut it short so that it’s easier to keep free of vermin.’

We’re silent as he does this. Across from us prisoners continue to line up by the gates.

The whole process is slow as every person has to swear his oath in the kirk and an official record is made of who they are.

All of this takes place only yards from where the famous National Covenant with God was signed all those years ago.

Ties with the Covenanter cause are being cut as surely and completely as the strands of black hair falling by my feet.

‘I need a new name,’ I say, pretending not to notice the tears in Samuel’s eyes now that he’s completed a task he could never have imagined doing. ‘From now on I’m to be called Douglas, even if there’s no one else nearby. Calum, will you explain this to your father?’

‘Of course. Where is he?’

‘Over there,’ says Hamish, nodding to the queue by the gates, ‘trying to persuade people not to sign the bond.’

‘That must be dangerous,’ says Calum.

‘Too dangerous,’ agrees Samuel. ‘He may not be signing the Black Bond, but I fear he’s signing his own death warrant.’

Gently, I take the scissors from Samuel’s hand. ‘My love, I think he knows.’