the enemy!"

Unwilling to believe their own doom--for our insurgents still hoped for
success in some negotiations for peace which had been carried on at
Colinton--they called out, "They are some of our own."

"They are too blacke" (_i.e._ numerous), "fie! fie! for ground to draw
up on," cried Wallace, fully realising the want of space for his men,
and proving that it was not till after this time that his forces were
finally arranged.[18]

First of all the battle was commenced by fifty Royalist horse sent
obliquely across the hill to attack the left wing of the rebels. An
equal number of Learmont's men met them, and, after a struggle, drove
them back. The course of the Rullion Burn prevented almost all pursuit,
and Wallace, on perceiving it, despatched a body of foot to occupy both
the burn and some ruined sheep walls on the farther side.

Dalzell changed his position, and drew up his army at the foot of the
hill, on the top of which were his foes. He then despatched a mingled
body of infantry and cavalry to attack Wallace's outpost, but they also
were driven back. A third charge produced a still more disastrous
effect, for Dalzell had to check the pursuit of his men by a
reinforcement.

These repeated checks bred a panic in the Lieutenant-General's ranks,
for several of his men flung down their arms. Urged by such fatal
symptoms, and by the approaching night, he deployed his men, and closed
in overwhelming numbers on the centre and right flank of the insurgent
army. In the increasing twilight the burning matches of the firelocks,
shimmering on barrel, halbert, and cuirass, lent to the approaching army
a picturesque effect, like a huge, many-armed giant breathing flame into
the darkness.

Placed on an overhanging hill, Welch and Semple cried aloud, "The God of
Jacob! The God of Jacob!" and prayed with uplifted hands for
victory.[19]

But still the Royalist troops closed in.

Captain John Paton was observed by Dalzell, who determined to capture
him with his own hands. Accordingly he charged forward, presenting his
pistols. Paton fired, but the balls hopped off Dalzell's buff coat and
fell into his boot. With the superstition peculiar to his age, the
Nonconformist concluded that his adversary was rendered bullet-proof by
enchantment, and, pulling some small silver coins from his pocket,
charged his pistol therewith. Dalzell, seeing this, and supposing, it is
likely, that Paton was putting in larger balls, hid be