brought to the Warren in this very sad condition,
had not been shot by his own men, as the dashing Marwood de Wichehalse
said; neither was it quite true to say that he had been shot by anyone.
What happened to him was simply this: While behaving with the utmost
gallantry and encouraging the militia of Somerset, whose uniforms were
faced with yellow, he received in his chest a terrific blow from the
bottom of a bottle. This had been discharged from a culveria on the
opposite side of the valley by the brave but impetuous sons of Devon,
who-wore the red facings, and had taken umbrage at a pure mistake on
the part of their excellent friends and neighbours, the loyal band of
Somerset. Either brigade had three culverins; and never having seen such
things before, as was natural with good farmers' sons, they felt it a
compliment to themselves to be intrusted with such danger, and resolved
to make the most of it. However, when they tried to make them go, with
the help of a good many horses, upon places that had no roads for war,
and even no sort of road at all, the difficulty was beyond them. But a
very clever blacksmith near Malmesford, who had better, as it proved,
have stuck to the plough, persuaded them that he knew all about it, and
would bring their guns to bear, if they let him have his way. So they
took the long tubes from their carriages, and lashed rollers of barked
oak under them, and with very stout ropes, and great power of swearing,
dragged them into the proper place to overwhelm the Doones.

Here they mounted their guns upon cider barrels, with allowance of roll
for recoil, and charged them to the very best of their knowledge, and
pointed them as nearly as they could guess at the dwellings of the
outlaws in the glen; three cannons on the north were of Somerset and the
three on the south were of Devonshire; but these latter had no balls of
metal, only anything round they could pick up. Colonel Stickles-was in
command, by virtue of his royal warrant, and his plan was to make his
chief assault in company with some chosen men, including his host,
young farmer Ridd, at the head of the valley where the chief entrance
was, while the trainbands pounded away on either side. And perhaps this
would have succeeded well, except for a little mistake in firing, for
which the enemy alone could be blamed with justice. For while Captain
Purvis was-behind the line rallying a few men who-showed fear, and not
expecting any combat yet,