many a stubborn Highlandman, And many a rugged Border clan With Huntly and with Home. Far on the left, unseen the while, Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle.” Nothing now remained for the Scottish centre, hemmed in on all sides, but to make a stubborn last stand; and gallantly did they do it. The flower of Scotland’s chivalry surrounded their brave monarch, and in the falling dusk fought desperately to guard their king. “No thought was there of dastard flight; Linked in that serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearlessly and well. The stubborn spearmen still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood The instant that he fell.” As night fell, the fierce struggle continued until the darkness made it impossible to see friend or foe, but the fate of Scotland’s bravest was sealed. The king lay dead, covered with wounds, and around him a heap of slain; those who were able made their way in haste from the field, while the English host encamped where it stood. The more lawless in each army plundered both sides impartially, and when the king’s body was found next day, it too was stripped like many others around it. “Then did their loss his foemen know, Their king, their lords, their mightiest low, They melted from the field as snow Dissolves in silent dew. Tweed’s echoes heard the ceaseless plash While many a broken band, Disordered, through its currents dash To gain the Scottish land; To town and tower, to down and dale, To tell red Flodden’s dismal tale, And raise the universal wail.” The tragic effects of that terrible day were long felt in Scotland. Every family of note in the land lost one or more of its members on the fatal field, besides the thousands of humbler beings who fell at the same time. Scotland did not recover from the crushing blow for more than a hundred years; and for many a day the people could not believe that their gallant king was really slain, but continued to hope that he had escaped in the darkness, and would one day return.