ning dawned, but in spite of the cold their hearts grew light as one
scout after another came in, reporting that there was not a sign of an
enemy within miles. Had they been bribed? We shall never know, yet it is
hardly possible that they could all have overlooked the presence of
several thousand men so close to their own camp. At that very moment
Leslie's army was crossing the river, and it began the attack while the
royalists were putting on their uniforms for an inspection.

Montrose was at breakfast in Selkirk when a messenger burst in upon him
with the news, but before he could ford the river with his horse his
left wing had given way under Leslie's steady pressure. At the head of a
handful of troopers, and followed closely by his faithful friends,
Montrose twice charged the covenanters and forced them to retire. But a
detachment of Leslie's men which had crossed the river higher up fell
upon the right wing, composed of the Irish, who were placed in the wood.
Desperate was the fight and bravely and faithfully the king's men died
at their posts. Montrose seems to wish to die too, and bitterly he must
later have regretted that he listened to his friends, who bade him
remember his duty as a general, and besought him to fly. At length he
yielded, and with fifty comrades galloped off the field, bearing the
standards with him.

* * * * *

With the battle of Philiphaugh the cause of the king was hopelessly
lost, and with it also the fortunes of his followers. A hundred of the
Irish surrendered on promise of quarter, and were shot down next day,
while their wives and children were killed on the spot, or imprisoned,
and hanged later. Strange as it may appear to us, Montrose did not
recognise the meaning of the defeat, and, with the dash and energy that
marked him to the last, he collected a fresh army of Highlanders, and
prepared to set out for the south, hoping to rescue his personal
friends, who were now prisoners in Glasgow. Yet again his judgment
failed him, and instead of attacking the English general who was holding
Huntly in check in the north of Aberdeenshire, he left him alone, and
then found that without the Gordons he was not strong enough to cope
with Leslie's army. Once more the mountains were his refuge, and from
their shelter he crept out to attend the burial of his wife in the town
of Montrose. On his way he probably passed the ruins of his castles,
which had been burned by o