Ladies of the Covenant

Most folks know, one of John Knoxes daugher’s married John welsh. Welsh was driven into exile in 1606, in France, but in 1621 he was told he may return if he would agree to be “dealt with” which undoubtedly meant submit to the bishops. He came to London, and his wife was given an audience with King James I. At which the following conversation took place:

the King asked her if her father had been John Knox.

He said: “Knox and Welch! The devil never made sic a match as that.
Knox’s Daughter, Mrs Welch replied: “It’s right, like, sir, for we never asked his advice.”
The king then asked how many of John Knoxes children were still living, to which she replied three and that they were all lasses.
“God be thanked,” exclaimed the King, “for if they had been three lads, I had never enjoyed my three kingdoms in peace.”
She urged that her husband John Welch maybe allowed to return to Scotland.
“Give him his native air!” James said, “Give him the devil!”
Her wit flashed forth at that and she answered: “Give that to your hungry courtiers.”
The king finally agreed that her husband could return if he would submit to the bishops. At which, she lifted up her apron, held it out, and showed herself to be her father’s daugher with the reply: “Please your majesty, I’d rather keep his head there.”
John Welsh died in London in April 1622, and he died while crying in sweet ecstasty in communion with Christ “Hold, Lord! Enough; I can bear no more.”

Elizabeth Adamson, then spouse to James Barroun [Dean of Guild],burgess of Edinburgh, who, by reason that she had a troubled conscience,delighted much in the company of the said John Knox, because he,according to the grace given unto him, opened more fully the fountain ofGod’s mercies than did the common sort of teachers that she had heard before; for she had heard none except Friars. She did with such greediness drink thereof, that at her death she did express the fruit of her hearing, to the great comfort of all those that repaired to her. She suffered most grievous torment in her body, yet out of her mouth was heard nothing but praising of God, except that sometimes she would lament the troubles of those that were troubled by her. Being sometimes demanded by her sisters, what she thought of that pain which she then suffered in body, in respect of that wherewith sometimes she was troubled in spirit, she answered: ‘A thousand years of this torment, and ten times more joined unto it, is not to be compared to the quarter of an hour that I suffered in my spirit. I thank my God, through Jesus Christ, that hath delivered me from that most fearful pain; and welcome be this, even so long as it pleaseth His Godly Majesty to exercise me therewith.’
A little before her departure, she desired her sisters, and some others that were beside her, to sing a Psalm, and amongst others, she appointed the Hundred and Third Psalm, beginning ‘My soul, praise thou the Lord always.’ This ended, she said: ‘At the teaching of this Psalm, began my troubled soul first effectually to taste of the mercy of my God, which now to me is more sweet and precious, than if all the kingdoms of the earth were given to me to possess a thousand years.’ The Priests urged her with their ceremonies and superstitions; to whom she answered: ‘Depart from me, ye Sergeants of Satan! I have refused, and in you              r own presence do refuse, all your abominations. That which ye call your Sacrament and Christ’s Body, as ye have deceived us to believe in times past, is nothing but an idol, and hath nothing to do with the right Institution of Jesus Christ. Therefore, in God’s name, I command you not to trouble me.’They departed, alleging, ‘That she raved, and knew not what she said.’ Short thereafter she slept in the Lord Jesus, to no small comfort of those that saw her blessed departing. This we could not omit of this worthy woman, who gave so notable a confession, before the great light of God’s
Word did universally shine through this realm.
–History of the reformation of Religion in scotland, Vol. 1. John Knox

Lord, I desire to bless thy name for thy former loving-kindnesses unto me in the day of my strait, in helping and standing by me when overcharged with affliction, and deserted of friends. A Poor insufficient creature, taken up with nothing but vanities of all sorts. O what moved so holy a God to condescend to look upon me, and pass by so many much more worthy than poor, undeserving, me! O praises be unto thee, O Most High! O that my tongue were employed though time in magnifying the holy name of so merciful a God! May, not I say, His mercies are over all his other works to me? may not I sit down and admire free love? First, in inclining my heart to love him and his people, and in casting my lot amongst the godly, and in bestowing a godly and kind husband on me, (when left destitute without father or mother), and that he did so care for me as not to suffer me to enjoy the desires of my heart, but was to pains to hedge in my ways with thorns; and his infinite love suffered me not to sit at my ease, enjoying my pleasures in the day of Zion’s calamity, and prepared the way by smaller trials for greater. Thou didst in thy infinite wisdom, not at first cast me into the hottest flames of the furnace, lest I should not have been able to stand, but in fright, fainted and turned back. But, O praise! praise be to Him who inhabits eternity, that condescended so far to me, a worm, as sweetly to train me up, in alluring me, and speaking comfortably to me, at my first entry into the wilderness. Thou castest thy word to be to my soul as the honey and the honey-comb. Thou madest me sit under thy shadow with great delight, and thy fruits were sweet unto my taste; so that many a time, which to onlookers was sad, was sweet to me. The Lord did so support and feast me in his banqueting-house, that I was made to rejoice in the midst of my tribulations. Likewise, thou didst not suffer me to go on with those that were indifferent in Christ’s matters, but with thy rods thou dist raise such a zeal and love on my spirit, and so filledst my mouth with arguments, that I could not see anything like defection from, or wrong to any of thy truth, without resenting, testifying, and contending against it. Thou so far changedst my heart, which was proud and haughty, much disdaining the converse of the poor; but thou helpedst me to be denied to great folk, and to the reproach I suffered on that head, making the company of the poor, that were godly in the land, dear unto me; and I hope they shall be so while they keep in God’s way, he having continue

At some point shortly I hopt to post this lady’s last words, who was a friend to the Scottish Covenants, and Presbyterians of Scotland.

Her life and departure are described thus:

Never did any end their days with more distinguished marks of a divine work of happy faith and assurance. She had been a sanct indeed all her life long, but she finished her course gloriously. Her last words were taken by the accurate and faithful pen of a reverend minister, and her elogy was composed by that great and good divine Mr. William Violent. 

Her husband’s diaries included this note:

The dying words of my glorified dear are in many good Christian’s hands and her son John’s dying words, and hers, by God’s blessing have been edifying and confirming, and comforting to many, and have had good affect upon the careless and thoughtless in matters of religious concernes.

An Epitaph on the death of the truly excellent, The Lady Coltness.

Here lies an elect lady, saint devote,
Rare, wise, true mother, Margaret Eliot:
She loved her loving God above all things,
Herself and hers she did to him resign,
In clifts of rock this doves groans did rebound,
She prayed not in the street with a trumpet sound,
Her praying voice scarce did her closet find
She prayed with groans, and tears, heart and bended mind!
Great modesty, comely, chast, severe, serene;
Nothing more grave, nothing more sweet again;
A spirit high, but not lift up withal,
A wit most sharp, but not imbrued with gall.
In a vile world, she pure and clean abode,
In a false world, she stood still true for God;
A lovely, lowly, loving wife, her husband’s love,
but more beloved, of her Beloved above.
Coltness she dressed, left it in good array,
But since she’s gone, its lustre is away;
She who, while living, taught by word and deed,
Unwearied still she did so while she died;
Herself and hers unto God bequeath,
Was Margaret Eliot’s work in life and death.

This epitaph was written by her own minister Mr. William Violand, minister at Cambusenthan.

She died aged thirty seven years, five months and eight days.