e was many miles from the battlefield.
How long he might have continued his involuntary retreat is uncertain,
but the branch of a tree brought it to a close by sweeping him off the
saddle. A quarter of an hour later an old woman found him lying on the
ground insensible, and with much difficulty succeeded in dragging him to
her cottage.

Meanwhile the tide of war had gone against the Covenanters. Whatever
may be said of Hamilton, unquestionably he did not manage the fight
well. No ammunition or reinforcements were sent to the front. The
stout defenders of the bridge were forced to give way in such an unequal
conflict. Yet they retired fighting for every inch of the ground.
Indeed, instead of being reinforced they were ordered to retire; and at
last, when all hope was gone, they reluctantly obeyed.

"Noo this bates a'!" exclaimed Black in a tone of ineffable disgust, as
he ran to the end of the bridge, clubbed his musket, and laid about him
with the energy of despair. Will Wallace was at his side in a moment;
so was Quentin Dick. They found Balfour and Hackston already there; and
for a few moments these men even turned the tide of battle, for they
made an irresistible dash across the bridge, and absolutely drove the
assailants from their guns, but, being unsupported, were compelled to
retire. If each had been a Hercules, the gallant five would have had to
succumb before such overwhelming odds. A few minutes more and the
Covenanters were driven back. The King's troops poured over the bridge
and began to form on the other side.

Then it was that Graham of Claverhouse, seeing his opportunity, led his
dragoons across the bridge and charged the main body of the Covenanters.
Undisciplined troops could not withstand the shock of such a charge.
They quickly broke and fled; and now the battle was changed to a regular
rout.

"Kill! kill!" cried Claverhouse; "no quarter!"

His men needed no such encouragement. From that time forward they
galloped about the moor, slaying remorselessly all whom they came
across.

The gentle-spirited Monmouth, seeing that the victory was gained, gave
orders to cease the carnage; but Claverhouse paid no attention to this.
He was like the man-eating tigers,--having once tasted blood he could
not be controlled, though Monmouth galloped about the field doing his
best to check the savage soldiery.

It is said that afterwards his royal father--for he was an illegitimate
son of the King--f