Here, then, was a military spectacle of no ordinary interest, or usual occurrence.  The two armies, so different in aspect and discipline, yet each admirably trained in its own peculiar mode of war, upon whose conflict the temporary fate at least of Scotland appeared to depend, now faced each other like two gladiators in the arena, each meditating upon the mode of attacking their enemy.  The leading officers, and the general’s staff of each army, could be distinguished in front of their lines, busied with spy-glasses to watch each other’s motions, and occupied in dispatching the orders and receiving the intelligence conveyed, by the aides-de-camp and orderly men, who gave life to the scene by galloping along in different directions as if the fate of the day depended upon the speed of their horses.  The space between the armies was at times occupied by the partial and irregular contests of individual sharpshooters, and a hat or bonnet was occasionally seen to fall, as a wounded man was borne off by his comrades.  These, however, were but trifling skirmishes, for it suited the views of neither party to advance in that direction.  From the neighbouring hamlets, the peasantry cautiously showed themselves, as if watching the issue of the expected engagement; and at no great distance in the bay were two square-rigged vessels, bearing the English flag, whose tops and yards were crowded with less timid spectators.

When this awful pause had lasted for a short time, Fergus, with another chieftain, received orders to detach their clans towards the village of Preston, in order to threaten the right flank of Cope’s army, and compel him to a change of position.  To enable him to execute these orders, the Chief of Glennaquoich occupied the churchyard of Tranent, a commanding situation, and a convenient place, as Evan Dhu remarked, ’for any gentleman who might have the misfortune to be killed, and chanced to be curious about Christian burial.’  To check or dislodge this party, the English general detached two guns escorted by a strong party of cavalry.  They approached so near, that Waverley could plainly recognize the standard of the troop he had formerly commanded, and hear the trumpets and kettledrums sound the signal of advance, which he had so often obeyed.  He could hear, too, the well-known word given in the English dialect, by the equally well-distinguished voice of the commanding-officer, for whom he had once felt so much respect.  It was at that instant, that, looking around him, he saw the wild dress and appearance of his Highland associates, heard their whispers in an uncouth and unknown language, looked upon his own dress, so unlike that which he had worn from his infancy, and wished to awake from what seemed at the moment a dream, strange, horrible, and unnatural.  ‘Good God!’ he muttered, ’am I then a traitor to my country, a renegade to my standard, and a foe, as that poor dying wretch expressed himself, to my native England?’