church of Polwarth, about two miles from Redbraes castle, the house in which
he generally resided. Here he lived for many weeks of the autumn of 1684,
without fire and hardly any light, and surrounded by the ghastly objects which
usually furnish forth such a scene. He was enabled, however, by the firmness
of his own mind, and the affections of his amiable family, to suffer this dreary
self-imprisonment without shrinking. No one knew of his concealment but his
family, and one " Jamie Winter," a carpenter, of whose fidelity they had good
reason to be assured. Having been provided with a bed through the aid of this
humble friend, Sir Patrick depended for food and other necessaries upon the
heroic devotedness of his daughter Grizel, who, though only twelve years of age,
nightly visited this dismal scene, without manifesting the least agitation either on
account of real or imaginary dangers. Supported by such means, Sir Patrick
never lost his cheerfulness of temper, but, on the contrary, could laugh heartily at
any little incident detailed to him by his daughter. The noble child had no other
means of obtaining his food, except by secreting part of what she had upon her
own plate at the family meals. Her having one day secured an entire sheep's-head, which her younger brother Alexander thought she had swallowed in a moment, supplied one of those domestic jests with which the fugitive father was
entertained. While in this lonely place, Sir Patrick had no other reading than
Buchanan's psalms, which he conned so thoroughly, that he ever after had the
most of them by heart. As the winter advanced, lady Polwarth contrived a
retreat underneath the floor of a low apartment at Redbraes, and thinking that
this might serve to conceal her husband in the event of any search taking place,
had him removed to his own house, where he accordingly lived for some time,
till it was found one morning, that the place designed for concealment, had
become half filled with water.
Warned by this incident, and by the execution of his friend Mr Baillie, he resolved to remain no longer in his native country. It was projected that he should leave the house next morning in disguise, attended by his grieve or farm-overseer, John Allan, who was instructed to give out that he was going to attend a horse-market at Morpeth. The party stole away by night, and had proceeded a considerable distance on their way, Avhen Sir Patrick, falling into a reverie, parted company with his attendant, and did not discover the mistake till he found himself on the banks of the Tweed. This, however, was a most fortunate misadventure, for, soon after his parting with Allan, a company of soldiers that had been in search of him at Redbraes, and followed in the expectation of overtaking him, came up, and would have inevitably discovered and seized him, if he had not been upon another track. On learning what had happened, he dismissed his servant, and, leaving the main-road, reached London through bye-ways. On this journey he represented himself as a surgeon, a character which he could have supported effectually, if called upon, as he carried a case of lancets, and was acquainted with their use. From London he found his way to France, and thence after a short stay, walked on foot to Brussels, intending to converse with the duke of Monmouth. Finding the duke had gone to the Hague, he proceeded to Holland, but did not immediately obtain a conference with that ill-fated nobleman. He had an audience, however, of the prince of Orange, who, " looking on him (to use the words of Crawfurd,) as a confessor for the protestant religion, and the liberties of his country, treated him with a very particular respect."
On the death of Charles II., in February, 1685, and the accession of the duke of York, whose attachment to the catholic faith rendered him, in their eyes, unfit to reign, the British refugees in Holland concerted two distinct but relative expeditions, for the salvation of the protestant religion, and to maintain "the
