Page:Narrative of the Battles of Drumclog, and Bothwell Bridge (1).pdf/8

8 As our strokes redoubled, my antagonist's dark features put on a look of deep and settled ferocity. No man who has not encountered the steel of his enemy, in the field of battle, can conceive the looks and the manner of the warrior, in the moments of his intense feelings, May I never witness them again ! We fought in silence. My stroke fell on his left shoulder; it cut the belt of his carabine, which fell to the ground. His blow cut me to the rib, glanced along the bone, and rid me also of the weight of my carabine. He had now advanced too near me to be struck with the sword. I grasped him by the collar. I pushed him backwards; and, with an entangled blow of my Ferara, I struck him across his throat. It cut only the strap of his head-piece and it fell off With a sudden spring, he seized me by the sword belt. Our horses reared, and we both came to the ground. We rolled on the heath in deadly conflict. It was in this situation of matters, that my brave fellows had returned from the rout of the flanking party, to look after their commander. One of them was actually rushing on my antagonist, when I called on him to retire. We started to our fcetfeet [sic]. Each grasped his sword. We closed on conflict again. After parrying strokes of mine enemy which indicated a hellish ferocity, I told him, my object was to take him prisoner; that sooner than kill him, I should order my men to seize him. 'Sooner let my soul be brandered on my ribs in hell," said he, 'than be captured by a Whigmore. No quarter’ is the word of my Colonel, and my word. Have at the Whig—I dare the whole of you to the combat."—"Leave the madman to me—leave the field instantly," said I to my party, whom I could hardly restrain. My sword fell on his right shoulder.—His sword dropped from his hand.—I lowered my sword, and offered him his life. 'No quarter,'