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 My country would bless my memory, could my sword give his villainous carcase to the crows.'

Our raw troops beheld with firmness the approach of the foemen: the whole of our foot dropped on the heath. Not a man was seen to remain down, when the order was given to rise, and return the fire. The first rank fired, then kneeled down, while the other fired. They made each bullet tell. As often as the lazy rolling smoke was carried over the enemy's heads, a shower of bullets fell on his ranks Many a gallant man tumbled on the heath. The fire was incessant. It resembled one blazing sheet of flame, for several minutes, along the line of the covenanters. Clavers attempted to cross the morass, and break our centre. 'Spearmen! to the front,'—I could hear the deep-toned voice of Hamilton say—'Kneel, and place your spears to receive the enemy's cavalry; and you my gallant fellows fire—'God and our Country' is our word,' Our officers flew from rank to rank. Not a peasant gave way that day. As the smoke rolled off, we could see Clavers urging on his men with the violence of despair. His troops around him, and still the gaps were filled up. A galled trooper would occasionally flinch; but ere he could turn or flee, the sword of Clavers was waving over his head. I could see him in his fury strike both man and horse.