The Lord Maxwell, perceiving what would be the end of such beginnings, remained on foot with his friends, and, being admonished to take horse and provide for himself, answered, "Nay, I will here abide the chance that it shall please God to send me, rather than go home, and there be hanged." And so he remained on foot and was taken prisoner, while the multitude fled, to their greater shame. The enemy, perceiving the disorder, increased in courage. Before, they had shouted; but then they struck. They threw spears and dagged[42] arrows where the companies were thickest. Some rencounters were made, but nothing availed. The soldiers cast from them their pikes, culverins, and other weapons of defence; the horsemen left their spears; and, without judgment, all men fled. The tide was rising, and the water made great stop; but the fear was such that happy was he that might get a tacker.[43] Such as passed the water and escaped that danger, not well acquainted with the ground, fell into the Solway Moss. The entry to it was pleasing enough, but all that took that way, either tint[44] their horses or else themselves and horses both. [42] Shot. [43] Carrier. [44] Lost. To be short, a greater fear and discomfiture, without cause, has seldom been seen. It is said that, where the men were not sufficient to take the hands of prisoners, some ran to houses and surrendered themselves to women. Stout Oliver was taken, without stroke, fleeing manfully; and so was his glory (stinking and foolish pride we should call it) suddenly turned to confusion and shame. In that discomfiture were taken the two Earls foresaid, the Lords Fleming and Somerville, and many other barons and gentlemen, besides the great multitude of servants.