The ministers were not overawed, nor were the people intimidated.  Field-preaching characterized the times.  Conventicles were more numerous and the attendance larger than hitherto.  It was estimated that, on a certain Sabbath, an aggregate of 16,000 attended three meetings held in one county.  Men, women, and children traveled miles and miles to these sequestered spots among the hills and on the moors, in defiance of all threats and in face of all clangers.  There they stayed through the long Sabbath hours, listening to the rich, sweet Gospel of Christ, while the ministers spoke with earnestness as from the very portals of eternity.

The Conventicles flourished in spite of every effort to suppress them.  The king and his counselors became alarmed and sent the “Highland host,” a vicious army of 10,000 strong, to extinguish these hated Field-meetings.  The Covenanters suffered at their hands, as by a foreign invasion.  The military atrocities, horrible before, were now barbarous in the extreme.  “Fire, and blood, and vapors of smoke” marked the path of these brutal men as they raided the country.  Yet the Conventicles were not extinguished.

To meet the conditions of increasing terror, the Covenanters came to the Field-meetings armed and ready for self-defence.  Sentries were stationed on the hills that towered above the worshipers, and the discharge of a gun was the signal of danger.  At the approach of soldiers, the people quietly dispersed, if escape were possible; if not, then the armed men drew out and lined up for battle.  Many a time the worship of God was suddenly turned into the clash of arms.

The Lomond-hills formed good places for these meetings.  On one occasion, a large concourse of people had assembled amidst these sheltering heights.  Rev. John Wellwood, a young minister whom the soldiers could not catch, was feasting these hungry souls with the Word of life.  Some of his sermons are still extant.  They are rich in nourishment, nervous with earnestness, and flashing with fiery eloquence, he lived in the dark days, but died exclaiming, “Now, eternal light! no more night, nor darkness to me.”  While the people this day were feasting on his words, the signal announced the approach of the dragoons.  The people quietly moved up the “brae.”  The soldiers rode up and delivered five volleys into the crowd.  The balls whizzed among the men, women, and children, but none were hurt.  A ledge of rock prevented an attack.  The captain commanded them to dismiss.  “We will,” they replied, “when the service is over, if you promise us no harm.”  The promise was given, yet the treacherous troops dashed upon the hindmost and captured eighteen.