exclamations
which resounded from the ranks;--"he hath sold you to the sword of the
enemy!"
And while Morton argued, entreated, and commanded in vain, the moment was
lost in which the advance might have been useful; and the outlet from the
bridge, with all its defences, being in complete possession of the enemy,
Burley and his remaining followers were driven back upon the main body,
to whom the spectacle of their hurried and harassed retreat was far from
restoring the confidence which they so much wanted.
In the meanwhile, the forces of the King crossed the bridge at their
leisure, and, securing the pass, formed in line of battle; while
Claverhouse, who, like a hawk perched on a rock, and eyeing the time to
pounce on its prey, had watched the event of the action from the opposite
bank, now passed the bridge at the head of his cavalry, at full trot,
and, leading them in squadrons through the intervals and round the flanks
of the royal infantry, formed them in line on the moor, and led them to
the charge, advancing in front with one large body, while other two
divisions threatened the flanks of the Covenanters. Their devoted army
was now in that situation when the slightest demonstration towards an
attack was certain to inspire panic. Their broken spirits and
disheartened courage were unable to endure the charge of the cavalry,
attended with all its terrible accompaniments of sight and sound;--the
rush of the horses at full speed, the shaking of the earth under their
feet, the glancing of the swords, the waving of the plumes, and the
fierce shouts of the cavaliers. The front ranks hardly attempted one
ill-directed and disorderly fire, and their rear were broken and flying
in confusion ere the charge had been completed; and in less than five
minutes the horsemen were mixed with them, cutting and hewing without
mercy. The voice of Claverhouse was heard, even above the din of
conflict, exclaiming to his soldiers--"Kill, kill--no quarter--think on
Richard Grahame!" The dragoons, many of whom had shared the disgrace of
Loudon-hill, required no exhortations to vengeance as easy as it was
complete. Their swords drank deep of slaughter among the unresisting
fugitives. Screams for quarter were only answered by the shouts with
which the pursuers accompanied their blows, and the whole field presented
one general scene of confused slaughter, flight, and pursuit.
About twelve hundred of the insurgents who remained in a body a lit
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