"About two o'clock in the afternoon the battle was at its height. Under the blazing sun that beat down upon us mercilessly, my battalion fought on, feeling confident that the enemy were gradually being defeated. The slaughter everywhere was frightful, and the green hillsides and fields were covered with dead and dying soldiers of the Tsar. The grey coats were soaked with blood, and dark, ugly stains dyed the grass of the fertile meadows beside the winding Clyde. Since their sudden landing in Scotland, the enemy's early successes had been followed by defeat after defeat. Their transports had been destroyed, their ammunition and stores seized, both their 2nd and 3rd Army Corps had been totally annihilated, leaving nearly twelve thousand men in our hands as prisoners, and now the defeat of this force of picked regiments, who had, on landing, immediately marched straight across Scotland, would effect a crushing and decisive blow.
"But the struggle was terrific, the din deafening, the wholesale butchery appalling. Our men knew they were fighting for Caledonia and their Queen, and their conduct, from the first moment of hostilities, until stray bullets laid them low one after another, was magnificent; they were splendid examples of the true, loyal, and fearless Briton, who will fight on even while his life-blood ebbs.
"Evening fell, but the continuous firing did not cease. The sun sank red and angry into dark storm-clouds behind the long range of purple hills beyond the Clyde, but the clash of arms continued over hill and dale on the east of Glasgow, and we, exerting every effort in our successful attempt to hold the five converging roads near Broomhouse, knew not which side were victors.
"Suddenly I received orders to send over a small detachment to block the two roads at Baillieston, the one a main road leading up from Coatbridge, and the other from the hilly country around Old Monkland, where the struggle was fiercest. Sending Lieutenant Planck over immediately with a detachment and several cyclists, I followed as soon as possible, and found he had blocked both roads in the centre of the little Scotch village, and had occupied the inn situated between the two roads, leaving just sufficient space for his cyclists to pass. Looking towards the city we could see that the hills on our left were occupied by British redcoats. In the village the quaint little low-built cottages, with their stairs outside, were all closed and deserted, and the place seemed strangely quiet after the exciting scenes and ceaseless deafening din.