But when they beheld Lord Derwentwater at the head of his troop, galloping to meet them, they suddenly stopped, and despite Lord Lonsdale's remonstrances, fairly turned round, and fled.
Their cowardice saved the rebels the trouble of dispersing the multitude behind them, for no sooner did the militia fly, than the others took to their heels, and throwing down their weapons, hurried off in every direction.
Ere many minutes the whole common was covered with fugitives, crying out piteously for quarter if a Highlander pursued them and offering all they had—which was not much—if their lives were spared. A great number of prisoners were taken.
Amongst the foremost to save themselves were Lord Lonsdale and the Bishop of Carlisle. Both were greatly afraid of being captured. Sir Christopher Musgrave made a vigorous effort to check the flight of the posse-comitatûs, but being utterly unable to do so, he rode off himself.
In less than half an hour the plain was completely cleared of all but the confederate forces and their prisoners. Several horses belonging to the militia were taken, a few swords and pistols, and a vast number of pitchforks.
When the prisoners, who amounted to three or four hundred, were brought before General Forster, he upbraided them—though in a good-humoured manner—with their folly in opposing their friends, saying they—the so-called rebels—were come to deliver them from a tyrannical usurper, and restore their lawful king to the throne.
“To prove that we mean you no harm,” he said, “not one of you have been injured—not a single man has been killed in the conflict. Had we caught Lord Lonsdale, or the Bishop of Carlisle, who ought not to have appeared on a field of battle, or Sir Christopher Musgrave, we might have made each of them pay a heavy ransom; but we shall deal differently with you. You are free. Return quietly to your homes. Take back your implements of husbandry, and employ them to a better purpose in future.”
This speech produced a very good effect on the countrymen to whom it was addressed. They huzzaed loudly, and shouted:
“God save King James the Third, and prosper his merciful army!”
Their pitchforks were then given back to them, and they departed, rejoicing.