uggle which ensued, the nature of the Highlanders' weapons,
and their extraordinary fierceness and activity, gave them a decided
superiority over those who had been accustomed to trust much to their
array and discipline, and felt that the one was broken and the other
useless. Waverley, as he cast his eyes towards this scene of smoke and
slaughter, observed Colonel Gardiner, deserted by his own soldiers in
spite of all his attempts to rally them, yet spurring his horse through
the field to take the command of a small body of infantry, who, with
their backs arranged against the wall of his own park (for his house
was close by the field of battle), continued a desperate and unavailing
resistance. Waverley could perceive that he had already received many
wounds, his clothes and saddle being marked with blood. To save this
good and brave man, became the instant object of his most anxious
exertions. But he could only witness his fall. Ere Edward could make
his way among the Highlanders, who, furious and eager for spoil, now
thronged upon each other, he saw his former commander brought from his
horse by the blow of a scythe, and beheld him receive, while on the
ground, more wounds than would have let out twenty lives. When Waverley
came up, however, perception had not entirely fled. The dying warrior
seemed to recognize Edward, for he fixed his eye upon him with an
upbraiding, yet sorrowful look, and appeared to struggle for utterance.
But he felt that death was dealing closely with him, and resigning his
purpose, and folding his hands as if in devotion, he gave up his soul
to his Creator. The look with which he regarded Waverley in his dying
moments did not strike him so deeply at that crisis of hurry and
confusion, as when it recurred to his imagination at the distance of
some time. [See Note 27.]

Loud shouts of triumph now echoed over the whole field. The battle was
fought and won, and the whole baggage, artillery, and military stores
of the regular army remained in possession of the victors. Never was a
victory more complete. Scarce any escaped from the battle, excepting the
cavalry, who had left it at the very onset, and even these were broken
into different parties and scattered all over the country. So far as our
tale is concerned, we have only to relate the fate of Balmawhapple, who,
mounted on a horse as headstrong and stiff-necked as his rider, pursued
the flight of the dragoons above four miles from the field of bat