They were, however, drawn out
with some regularity; and as they still possessed the appearance of an
army, their leaders had only to hope that some favourable circumstance
would restore their spirits and courage.
Kettledrummle, Poundtext, Macbriar, and other preachers, busied
themselves in their ranks, and prevailed on them to raise a psalm. But
the superstitious among them observed, as an ill omen, that their song of
praise and triumph sunk into "a quaver of consternation," and resembled
rather a penitentiary stave sung on the scaffold of a condemned criminal,
than the bold strain which had resounded along the wild heath of
Loudon-hill, in anticipation of that day's victory. The melancholy melody
soon received a rough accompaniment; the royal soldiers shouted, the
Highlanders yelled, the cannon began to fire on one side, and the
musketry on both, and the bridge of Bothwell, with the banks adjacent,
were involved in wreaths of smoke.
CHAPTER XI.
As e'er ye saw the rain doun fa',
Or yet the arrow from the bow,
Sae our Scots lads fell even down,
And they lay slain on every knowe.
Old Ballad.
Ere Morton or Burley had reached the post to be defended, the enemy had
commenced an attack upon it with great spirit.
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