they were at length disturbed by the duke’s cannon, at the very first discharge of which, the horse of the Covenanters wheeled, and rode off, breaking and trampling down the ranks of their infantry in their flight.  The Cameronian account blames Weir of Greenridge, a commander of the horse, who is termed a sad Achan in the camp.  The more moderate party lay the whole blame on Hamilton, whose conduct, they say, left the world to debate, whether he was most traitor, coward, or fool.  The generous Monmouth was anxious to spare the blood of his infatuated countrymen, by which he incurred much blame among the high-flying royalists.  Lucky it was for the insurgents that the battle did not happen a day later, when old General Dalziel, who divided with Claverhouse the terror and hatred of the whigs, arrived in the camp, with a commission to supersede Monmouth, as commander in chief.  He is said to have upbraided the duke, publicly, with his lenity, and heartily to have wished his own commission had come a day sooner, when, as he expresses himself, “These rogues should never more have troubled the king or country."[B] But, notwithstanding the merciful orders of the duke of Monmouth, the cavalry made great slaughter among the fugitives, of whom four hundred were slain.  Guild thus expresses himself: 

  Ei ni Dux validus tenuisset forte catervas,
  Vix quisquam profugus vitam servasset inertem: 
  Non audita Ducis verum mandata supremi
  Omnibus, insequitur fugientes plurima turba,
  Perque agros, passim, trepida formidine captos
  Obtruncat, saevumque adigit per viscera ferrum.
      MS. Bellum Bothuellianum.

[Footnote A:  There is an accurate representation of this part of the engagement in an old painting, of which there are two copies extant; one in the collection of his grace the duke of Hamilton, the other at Dalkeith house.  The whole appearance of the ground, even including a few old houses, is the same which the scene now presents:  The removal of the porch, or gateway, upon the bridge, is the only perceptible difference.  The duke of Monmouth, on a white charger, directs the march of the party engaged in storming the bridge, while his artillery gall the motley ranks of the Covenanters.  An engraving of this painting would be acceptable to the curious; and I am satisfied an opportunity of copying it, for that purpose, would be readily granted by either of the noble proprietors.]

[Footnote B:  Dalziel was a man of savage manners.  A prisoner having railed at him, while under examination before the privy council, calling him “a Muscovia beast, who used to roast men, the general, in a passion, struck him, with the pomel of his shabble, on the face, till the blood sprung.”—­FOUNTAINHALL, Vol.  I. p. 159.  He had sworn never to shave his beard after the death of Charles the First.  This venerable appendage reached his girdle, and, as he wore always an old-fashioned buff coat, his appearance in London never failed to attract the notice