The inner circle was composed of women and children, and those among the older men not so well able to defend themselves. Below that was a ring of stout country men, armed with halberds, forks, and other weapons, which they had hitherto used in more peaceable pursuits; while beyond these again was a band of sturdy, well-armed foot-soldiers, finally encompassed by a party of horse. Sir Robert Hamilton, calm, dignified, and self-possessed, sat erect upon his steed, ready at a moment's notice to take command of the little army, while near to him sat David Hackstoun, his fine face wearing an expression of deep and heavenly serenity, which told how passing sweet to his soul was this hour of communing with his God. Side by side, on a rocky ledge, sat Balfour of Kinloch, and Adam Hepburn of Rowallan, and, I fear me, their hearts were occupied by far other thoughts than the reverent worship of the God of the Covenant. Yet their outward demeanour was decorous enough. There were also several ministers present.
After the singing of a psalm David Gray led the devotions of the assembly, and as his beautiful and appropriate petitions, the deep breathing of his own pure and reverent soul, fell from his lips, tears rolled down the faces of many present, and more than one voice fervently re-echoed his amen.
The reverend Mr. Douglas, who was to preach the sermon, gave out his text, and had but newly addressed himself to his subject, when a carabine shot was fired from the hill-top, a warning salute which had been agreed upon before the service commenced.
They were speedily informed that Claverhouse, with a considerable body of dragoons, was rapidly approaching. Without the faintest sign of confusion, or any exhibition of terror, the little army prepared themselves for battle.
Sir Robert Hamilton took the command, and was assisted by Balfour and Rathillet, as also by some other gentlemen of rank, present on the field.
To their joy they beheld the enemy advancing towards the morass, which would prove a very considerable barrier in their way. Had Claverhouse been familiarly acquainted with the nature of a Scottish morass, or bog, as the country folk term it, he would without doubt have rather taken a more circuitous route to avoid it. The Covenanters stood perfectly still until the dragoons were well into the moss, then singing the favourite seventy-sixth psalm, to the familiar strains of "Martyrs," they steadfastly advanced to engage the foe in conflict. Those left behind prostrated themselves in prayer to the God of Heaven, supplicating victory for the blue banner of the Covenant, waving in the light summer breeze, its white letters, "For Christ's Cause and Covenant," made resplendent by the brilliance of the summer sun. The first volley fired by the Covenanters emptied many a saddle in Claverhouse's ranks, and without giving them time to rally, the brave little band plunged into the morass, and then began a terrible hand-to-hand conflict, which must ensure either complete victory or total defeat.
Sir Robert Hamilton kept to his horse, encouraging his men with his calm, cheerful demeanour, as well as by his steadfast words. As was to be expected, Adam Hepburn fought with desperate valour, and caused Balfour to regard him anew with a peculiar interest. After a brief, but terrible struggle, Claverhouse, seeing the field was utterly lost, hastily retreated with the exhausted remnant of his troops, narrowly escaping with his own life.
Many dead and wounded lay in the morass, but the Covenanters miraculously lost only one man, while five were wounded.
With thankful and triumphant hearts they prepared to return to the base of the hill.
Balfour of Kinloch, finding himself near Adam Hepburn, as they turned to go, touched his arm and said, in his brief fashion, "What is it in you, Adam Hepburn, which makes you fight like Lucifer himself? Where did you get that desperate courage?"