It was not till eight o’clock on that summer evening that Dundee gave orders for the advance of his two thousand men. Casting off brogues and plaids the clansmen moved forward down the slope. They were met with a heavy fire, which grew more terrible as they approached the treble line of their opponents. But with wonderful resolution they obeyed the orders given them, and reserved their own till they came to within a few yards of the enemy. Then they poured it in upon them ‘like one great clap of thunder,’ and, throwing away their muskets, fell upon the infantry with their claymores before it had time to fix bayonets to receive them. ‘After that,’ in the words of Lochiel’s ‘Memoirs,’ ‘the noise seemed hushed; and the firing ceasing on both sides, nothing was heard for some few moments but the sullen and hollow clashes of the broadswords, with the dismal groans and cries of dying and wounded men.’ Dundee, who had joined his small body of horse, ordered Wallace to attack the troopers whilst the clans were scattering the infantry, and himself rode forward to take part in the charge. But Sir William, the nominal commander, ‘not being too forward,’ Dundee would have met with no support if the Earl of Dunfermline, taking in the situation at a glance, had not dashed forward, with some sixteen volunteers who left the laggard ranks. Mackay’s troopers did not stop to receive the shock of this handful of men, but joined the infantry in their flight. Nor did the gunners make a better stand; and their clumsy ordnance was captured before Wallace came up. Then Dundee, wheeling to the enemy’s right, charged Mackay’s own regiment, which, after delivering a last volley, turned and fled like the rest, in spite of the General’s efforts to rally it. Pausing for a moment to look round the field, the victorious leader perceived that Sir Donald Macdonald’s battalion, ‘which had not shown so great resolution as the rest of the Highlanders,’ was hesitating in its attack upon Hastings’s regiment. He was on his way to urge it forward, when a shot struck him in the side and inflicted a mortal wound. He reeled in the saddle, and was falling from his horse; but one of his officers, named Johnstone, was at hand to catch him in his arms and to help him to the ground. As he lay there, the dying leader asked how the day went. ‘The day goes well for the King,’ replied Johnstone, ‘but I am sorry for your Lordship.’ But Dundee felt the comfort which he had so shortly before promised those who should fall; ‘it is the less matter for me,’ he said, ‘seeing the day goes well for my master.’