edless of the rain of bullets, they rushed to close quarters
with the Hanoverian infantry, who, deserted by the dragoons, were now
attacked on both sides as well as in front. A few stood firm, and the
gallant Colonel Gardiner put himself at their head. A blow from a
scytheblade in the hands of a gigantic Macgregor ended his life, and
spared him the shame and sorrow of another defeat. The Park walls at
their back prevented the infantry from seeking ignoble security in
flight, after the fashion of the dragoons, and they were forced to lay
down their weapons and beg for quarter. Some 400 of them fell, struck
down by the broadswords and dirks of their enemy, more than 700 were
taken prisoners, and only a few hundreds escaped.

[Illustration: 'HE GALLOPED UP THE STREETS OF EDINBURGH SHOUTING,
"VICTORY! VICTORY!"']

The battle was won in less than five minutes. Charles himself commanded
the second column, which was only fifty yards behind the first, but, by
the time he arrived on the scene of action, there was nothing left to be
done. Nothing, that is, in securing the victory, but Charles at once
occupied himself in stopping the carnage and protecting the wounded and
prisoners. 'Sir,' cried one of his staff, riding up to him, 'there are
your enemies at your feet.' 'They are my father's subjects,' answered
Charles sadly, turning away.

In vain did Sir John Cope and the Earl of Home try to rally the
dragoons. Holding pistols to the men's heads, they succeeded in
collecting a body in a field near Clement's Wells, and tried to form a
squadron; but the sound of a pistol-shot renewed the panic and off they
started again at the gallop. There was nothing for it but for the
officers to put themselves at the head of as many fugitives as they
could collect, and conduct the flight. Hardly did they draw rein till
they were safe at Berwick. There the unfortunate general was received by
Lord Mark Ker with the well-known sarcasm--'Sir, I believe you are the
first general in Europe who has brought the first news of his own
defeat.'[37]

In the meantime, the wounded they had left on the field were being
kindly cared for by the victorious army. Charles despatched a messenger
to bring medical aid--an errand not without danger to a single horseman
on roads covered with straggling bodies of dragoons. But the adventure
just suited the gallant spirit of young Lawrence Oliphant. At Tranent
the sight of him and his servant at their heels sent off