The Council finding the Rebels daily increasing in their numbers ... his Majesty sent down the Duke of Monmouth ... to be Commander-in-chief.... General Dalziel refused to serve under him, and remained at his lodgings in Edenborough, till his Grace was superseded, which happened about a fortnight after.... The General Officers ... desired his Grace to let them know which way he designed to take to come at the Enemy, the Duke answered, it must be by Bothwell Bridge. Now the bridge lay a short mile to the right of the King's Army, was narrow, and guarded with 3,000 of the Rebels, and strongly barricaded with great stones; but although the Officers were desirous to have passed the river, by easy fords, directly between them and the Rebels and to march to their main body on the moor, before those 3,000, who guarded the bridge, could come to assist them; yet the Duke was obstinate, and would pass no other way than that of the bridge. Pursuant to this preposterous and absurd resolution, he commanded Captain Stuart (whose Lieutenant I was) with his troop of Dragoons, and 80 Musqueteers, together with four small Field-pieces, under cover of the Dragoons, to beat off the party at the bridge. The Duke himself, with David Lesly and Melvill, accompanyed us, and ordered the Field-pieces to be left at the Village of Bothwell, within a musquet-shot of the bridge. When the Duke and his men came near the bridge, the Rebels beat a parly, and sent over a Laird, accompanied with a Kirk Preacher.... While this Parly lasted, the Field-pieces were brought down and planted over against the bridge, without being perceived by the Rebels. The messengers ... they would not lay down their arms unless their conditions were granted them; whereupon the Dragoons and Musqueteers fired all at once upon those who guarded the bridge, and the Field-pieces played so warmly, that some hundreds of the Rebels were slain; the rest flying to the main body on the moor. The Duke, as soon as he had commanded to fire, retired into a hollow from the enemies' shot; ... and continued there till the action was over. Then Captain Stuart ordered the Musqueteers to make way for the Horse, to pass the bridge, by casting into the river the stones which had been placed there to obstruct the passage over it; but the army could not pass in less than five hours; and then marched up in order of battle towards the enemy, who waited for them on the moor, confiding in the superiority of their numbers. Clavers commanded the Horse on the right, and Captain Stuart the Dragoons on the left. The Field-pieces were carried in the centre of the Footguards, while the rest of the Officers commanded at the head of their men; and the Duke, after the enemy was beaten from the bridge, rode at the head of the Army. Upon the first fire, the Rebel Horse turned about.... Sir John Bell, Provost of Glasgow as soon as he saw the Rebels fly, rode into the town; from whence, in a few hours, he sent all the bread he could find, together with an hogshead of drink to each troop and company in the Army, out of the cellars of such townsmen as were found to be abettors or protectors of the Rebels.
The Pursuers were no sooner returned, and the whole action over, than General Dalziel arrived at the camp from Edenborough, with a commission renewed to be Commander-in-Chief, which he received that very morning by an Express....
Charles the Second's Commission dated 11th November, 1681.
Appointing "Lieutenant Generall Thomas Dalzell 'Colonell' of a Regiment of Dragoones to be formed out of the three Companies of Dragoones already standing in that our Kingdome, and three Companies more to be added to them."
On Saturday morning when the army was to march to Glasgow, I desired the General's leave to go with twelve Dragoons in search of some of the Rebels, who might probably pass the Clyde, about Dunlatton, to shelter themselves in the Highlands. With these Dragoons, clad in grey coats and bonnets, I made haste down the side of the river; and about midnight, after travelling twenty-four miles, I came to a church, and while the soldiers stayed to refresh their horses in the churchyard, I spyed a country fellow going by, and asked him in his own dialect, "Whither gang ye this time of night?" He answered, "Wha are ye that speers?" I replied, "We are your ane Foke." Upon this the fellow came up and told me; there were 18 friends with horses at an old Castle waiting for a boat to pass over into the Isle of Arran. I mounted the man behind one of my Dragoons, and went towards the place; but the Rebels not finding a boat were gone off, and the guide dismissed. There was a great dew on the grass, which directed me and my party to follow the track of their horses for three or four miles, till the dew was gone off; I then enquired of a cowherd on a hill whether he saw any of our poor Foke travelling that way; he answered that they had separated on that hill and gone three several ways, six in a party, adding, that in one party there was a bra muckle kerl, with a white hat on him, and a great bob of ribbons on the cock o't. Whereupon I sent 4 of my Dragoons after one party, 4 more after another, and myself with the remaining 4 went in pursuit of him with the white hat.... The good man of the house returning from putting the horses to grass in the garden was going to shut the door, whereupon myself and one of the Dragoons commanded him, with our pistols at his breast, to lead us to the room where the man lay who wore a white hat. We entered the room, and before he awaked I took away his arms, and commanded him to dress immediately; then finding his companion asleep in the barn, I forced him likewise to arise, and mounting them both on their own horses, came at 9 o'clock in the morning with my two prisoners to the other Dragoons at the place where we appointed to meet. From thence we rode strait to Glasgow, and arrived thither about 8 in the evening, after a journey of 50 miles since we left the Army at Bothwell the day before. The man with a white hat had turned out to be Master John King.... About a month after I happened to dream that I found one Wilson, a Captain among the Rebels at Bothwell Bridge, in a bank of Wood upon the river Clyde. This accident made so strong an impression upon my mind that as soon as I awaked I took six-and-thirty Dragoons, and got to the place by break of day. Then I caused some of them to alight and go into the wood and set him up, as hounds do a hare, while the rest were ordered to stand sentry to prevent his escape. It seems I dreamt fortunately, for Wilson was actually in the wood with 5 more of his company, as we afterwards learned, who all seeing me and my party advancing, hid themselves in a little island on the river among the broom that grew upon it. Wilson had not the good fortune to escape.... I seized and brought him to my quarters, and from thence immediately conveyed him to Edenborough, where he was hanged; but might have preserved his life if he would have condescended only to say, God save the King. This he utterly refused to do, and thereby lost not only his life, but likewise an estate worth twenty-nine thousand marks Scots. For this service, the Duke of Queensberry, then High Commissioner of Scotland, recommended me to the King, who rewarded me with the gift of Wilson's estate; but although the grant passed the Seals, and the Sheriff put me in possession, yet I could neither sell it nor let it, nobody daring, for fear of the Rebels who had escaped at Bothwell Bridge, either to purchase or farm it, by which means I never got a penny by the grant; and at the Revolution the land was taken from me, and restored to Wilson's heirs....
"The winter following, General Dalziel, with a battalion of the Earl of Linlithgow's Guards, the Earl of Airly's troop of Horse, and Captain Stuart's troop of Dragoons, quartered at Kilmarnock in the west, 50 miles from Edenborough. Here the general one day, happening to look on while I was exercising the troop of Dragoons, asked me, when I had done, whether I knew any of my men who was skilful in praying well in the style and tone of the Covenanters; I immediately thought upon one James Gibb, who had been born in Ireland, and whom I made a Dragoon. This man I brought to the General, assuring his Excellency that if I had raked Hell, I could not find his match for his skill in mimicking the Covenanters. Whereupon the General gave him £5 to buy him a gray coat and a bonnet, and commanded him to find out the Rebels, but to be sure to take care of himself among them. The Dragoon went 8 miles off that very night, and got admittance into the house of a notorious Rebel, pretending he came from Ireland out of zeal for the cause, to assist at the fight of Bothwell Bridge, and could not find an opportunity since of returning to Ireland with safety, he said he durst not be seen in the day-time, and therefore after bewitching the family with his gifts of praying, he was conveyed in the dusk of the next evening, with a guide, to the house of the next adjoining Rebel; and thus in the same manner, from one to another, till in a month's time he got through the principal of them in the west, telling the General at his return, that wherever he came he made the old wives in their devout fits tear off their biggonets and mutches; he likewise gave the General a list of their names and places of their abodes; and into the bargain, brought back a good purse of money in his pocket. The General desired to know how he had prayed amongst them; he answered that it was his custom in his prayers to send the King, the Ministers of State, the Officers of the Army, with all their soldiers, and the Episcopall Clergy, all broadsides to Hell, but particularly the General himself: "What," said the General, "did you send me to Hell, Sir?" "Yea," replied the Dragoon, "you at the head of them, as their leader....
"During the winter and the following spring I secured many of those whose names and abodes the canting Dragoon had given a list of.... In July following, the General, by order of Council, commanded me to go with a detachment of 30 Horse and 50 Dragoons in pursuit of about 150 rebels who had escaped at Bothwell Bridge, and ever since kept together in a body up and down in Galloway. I followed them for 5 or 6 days from one place to another; after which, on 22nd of July, they stayed for me at Airs Moss.... The Moss is 4 miles long from east to west and 2 broad. The Rebels drew up at the east end, and consisted of 30 Horse and 120 Foot. I faced them upon a rising ground with my 30 Horse and 50 Dragoons. The reason why the Rebels chose this place to fight on rather than a plain field was for fear their Horse might desert the Foot, as they did on Hamilton Moor, near Bothwell Bridge: and likewise, that in case they lost the day they might save themselves by retreating into the Moss. I placed myself on the left, as judging that the best officer the Rebels had would command on the right. The action began about 5 in the afternoon, but lasted not long; for I ordered my men first to receive the enemy's fire, then to ride down the hill upon them and use their broad-swords. They did so, and before the enemy had time to draw theirs, cut many of them down in an instant. Whereupon they wheeled about, and Captain Fowler, who commanded the Rebels on the right, being then in the rear, advancing up to me, I gave him such a blow over the head with my broad-sword as would have cleaved his scul had it not been defended by a steel cap. Fowler turning about, aimed a blow at me, but I warded it off, and with a back stroke cut the upper part of his head clean off from the nose upwards. By this time the Rebells, leaving their horses, fled to the Moss; but the Royalists pursuing them killed about 60 and took 14 prisoners. Here Cameron, the famous Covenanter, lost his life, and Haxton was taken prisoner, infamous for embruing his hands in the blood of the Archbishop of St. Andrews ... for which paricide both his hands were afterwards cut off, and he was hanged at Edenborough. But this victory cost me very dear, for being then in the rear I rode into the Moss after the Rebels where I overtook a dozen of them hacking and hewing one of my men whose horse was bogged; his name was Elliot, a stout soldier and one of Claver's troop. He had received several wounds, and was at the point of being killed when I came to his relief. I shot one of the rogues dead with my carbine, which obliged the rest to let the poor man and his horse creep out of the hole, but at the same time drew all their fury upon myself; for Elliot made a shift to crawl out of the Moss leading his horse in his hands, but was wholly disabled from assisting his deliverer, and was not regarded by his enemies who probably thought he was mortally wounded, or, indeed, rather that they had no time to mind him; for I laid about me so fast that they judged it best to keep off and not to venture within my reach, till it unfortunately happened that my horse slipped into the same hole out of which Elliot and his horse had just got. When they had me at this advantage they began to show their courage and manfully dealt their blows with their broad-swords, from some of which the carbine that hung down my back defended me a little. As I was paddling in the hole, the horse not able to get out, one of the rebels ran me through the small of the back with his broad-sword, and at the same instant two more wounded me under the ribs with their small ones. Then I threw myself over the head of my horse, taking the far pistol out of the holster in my left hand, and holding my broad-sword in my right; and as one of the villains was coming hastily up to me his foot slipped, and before he could recover himself I struck my sword into his skull; but the fellow, being big and heavy, snapped it asunder as he fell within a span of the hilt. The Rebels had me now at a great advantage. One of them made a stroak at me which I guarded off with the hilt of the sword that was left in my hand, but the force with which he struck the blow—and I kept it off—brought us both to the ground. However I got up before him, clapped my pistol to his side and shot him dead. As soon as this was done another came behind me, and with some weapon or other struck me such a blow on the head as laid me flat on my back, in which posture I remained a good while insensible, the rogues taking it for granted that I was dead, scoured off.