A third charge produced a still more disastrous effect, for Dalzell had to check the pursuit of his men by a reinforcement.
These repeated checks bred a panic in the Lieutenant-General's ranks, for several of his men flung down their arms.

Urged by such fatal symptoms, and by the approaching night, he deployed his men, and closed in overwhelming numbers on the centre and right flank of the insurgent army.
In the increasing twilight the burning matches of the firelocks, shimmering on barrel, halbert, and cuirass, lent to the approaching army a picturesque effect, like a huge, many-armed giant breathing flame into the darkness.
Placed on an overhanging hill, Welch and Semple cried aloud, 'The God of Jacob! The God of Jacob!' and prayed with uplifted hands for victory.
{101b} But still the Royalist troops closed in.
Captain John Paton was observed by Dalzell, who determined to capture him with his own hands.

Accordingly he charged forward, presenting his pistols.

Paton fired, but the balls hopped off Dalzell's buff coat and fell into his boot.

With the superstition peculiar to his age, the Nonconformist concluded that his adversary was rendered bullet-proof by enchantment, and, pulling some small silver coins from his pocket, charged his pistol therewith.