the Covenanters were subdued.

Hamilton announced his intention to enter Edinburgh, as the king's High
Commissioner, on the 19th of June. Less than four months previous, the
Covenant had been renewed in that city amid transports of joy; must it
now be trampled in the dust? The effects of the Covenant had fallen upon
the kingdom like spring showers that fill the land with songs and
flowers; must the glory be blighted ere the fruitage be matured? The day
set for the commissioner's coming was perfect. The bright sun, clear
sky, blue sea, green fields, purple hills, soft winds, fragrant
blossoms, tuneful birds--all united to make the coming of his majesty's
commissioner a delight. Nature was in her gayest attire.

The road chosen for his journey to the city lay along the strand. He
came in a stately carriage. His official dress was brilliant and
imposing. His associates followed, while a strong military guard added
dignity and a tinge of terribleness to the procession. It was Hamilton's
day of high honor. The proud sea rippled its welcome; the mellow winds
floated the national emblem from many a window; the city was gaily
decorated. The king's sympathizers had done their best for the occasion,
but the Covenanters had excelled them all.

The Covenanters were by no means ignorant of Hamilton's power and
purpose; yet they recognized him as the king's representative, and
therefore they would do him honor. They were truly loyal. No taint of
treason had ever mingled in their blood. They resolved to give the
commissioner every opportunity to do his duty as ruler, yet stood ready
to resist if he did wrong. They came to the city in force; their number
was estimated at sixty thousand. They thronged the road over which
Hamilton passed, banked the hillsides with earnest faces, raised their