n
charger was so badly wounded that, in the rider's forcible language,
"its guts hung out half an ell;" yet the brave beast carried him safely
out of the press.[27] The troopers began to fall back, and Burley,
coming up on sound ground with his horse, flung himself on them so hotly
that the retreat became something very like a rout. Claverhouse, to
whose courage and energy that day his enemies bear grudging witness, did
all that a brave captain could, but his men had now got completely out
of hand. "I saved the standards" (one of which had been for a moment
taken) "and made the best retreat the confusion of our people would
suffer." So he wrote to Linlithgow, but he made no attempt to disguise
his defeat. He owns to having lost eight or ten men among the cavalry,
besides wounded; and the dragoons lost many more. Only five or six of
the Covenanters seem to have fallen, among whom was one of Sharp's
murderers. This does not speak very well for their opponents' fire; but
then we have only the testimony of their own historians to go by.
Claverhouse himself could say no more than that "they are not come
easily off on the other side, for I saw several of them fall before we
came to the shock."

Pell-mell went the rout over the hill and across the moorland to
Strathavon, through which the Life Guards had marched but a few hours
before in all their bravery. As their captain passed by the place where
his prisoner of the morning, John King, was now lustily chanting a psalm
of triumph, the reverend gentleman called out to him, with audacity
worthy of Gabriel Kettledrummle, "to stay the afternoon sermon." At
Strathavon the townspeople drew out to bar their passage, but the fear
of their pursuers lent the flying troopers fresh heart: "we took
courage," writes Claverhouse, "and fell to them, made them run, leaving
a dozen on the place." Through Strathavon they clattered, and never drew
rein till they found themselves safe in Glasgow among their own
comrades.

Fortunately the pursuit had slackened, or it might have gone ill with
the garrison in Glasgow. Claverhouse's men had no doubt fine tales to
tell of the fury of the Whig devils behind them; and had Hamilton been
strong enough in cavalry to enter the town at the heels of the flying
troopers it is not likely that he would have met with much opposition.
The pursuit, however, did not follow far. Thanksgivings had to be made
for the victory, and the prisoners to be looked to. All th