The Ashland union. [volume] (Ashland, Ashland County, Ohio) 1854-1868, 1857-06-10

horse and his rider, and knew not which
to admire most, the athletic beauty O
the boy, or the tempestuous vigor of the
horse.
Thrice they threaded the avenues in
front of the White House, and at last
stood painting before the President, the
boy leaning over the neck of his steed,
as he coolly exclaimed" Well, how dc
you like me ?'
aDo you think you could kill an In
dian ?'' the President said, taking him
by the hand, as he leaped from his
horse. @
"a Aye-and eat him afterwards u
cried the boy, ringing out his fierco laugh,
as he read his fate in the old mans
eyes.
"You had better come in and get your
commission" and the hero of New Or
leans led the way into the White House.
There came night, when an old man
President no longer-sat in the silent
chamber of his Hermitage home, a pic
ture of age trembling on the verge of
eternity. The light that stood upon his
table revealed his sunken form resting
against the pillows which cushioned his
chair, and the death-like pallor of his
venerable face. In that face, with its
white hair, and massive forehead, every
thing seemed already dead, except the
eyes. Their deep gray-blue shono with
the fire of New Orleans, as the old man
with his long, white fingers grasped a
letter, post-marked washington"
asThey ask me to designate the man
who shall lead our army, in case the
annexation of Texas brings on war
with Mexico, Ibis voice, deep-toned
and thrilling, even in that hour of de-
crepitude and decay, rung through the
silence of the chamber" there is only
one who can do it, and his name is
Zachary Taylor"
It was dark hour when this boy and
this General, both appointed at the sug
gestion or by the voice of the Man of
the Hermitage, met in the battle of
Resaca de la Palma
By the blaze of cannon, and boneath
the canopy of battle-smoke, we behold
the meeting.
aCapt-May-you- must take that-bat=
terry l'
As the old man uttered these words
he pointed far across the raviue with his
sword. 1T was like the glare of a vol
cano-the steady blaze of that battery,
pouring from the darkness of the chap
paral.
Before him, summoned from the rear
by his command, rose the form of
splendid soldier, whose hair waving in
long masses, swept his broad shoulders,
while his beard fell over his muscular
chest. Hair and beard as dark as mid
night, framed a determined face sur
mounted by small car; glittering with
a single golden tsssel. The young war
rior bestrods magnificent charger,
broad iufhe chest, small in the head,
delicate in each slender limb, and with
Dostrils quivering as though they shot
forth jets of fame. That steed was as
death. aa7 Gls 1s.s-
Without word, the soldier turned to
his men.
Eighty. four forms, with throats and
breasts bare, eighty-four battle horses,
eighty-four sabres, that rose in the
clutch of naked arms, and flashed their
over eighty-four faces, knit in
every feature with battle fire.
sfMen, follow p' shouted the young
commander, who had been created SOL
dier by the hand of Jackson, as his tall
form rose in the stirrups, and the battle
breeze played with his long black hair.
There was no response in words, but
you should have seen those horses quiver
beneath the spur, and spring and launch
away. Down upon the sod with one
terrible beat came the sound of their
hoofs, while through the air rose in gilt
tering circles those battle scimitars.
Four yards in front rode May, himself
and his horse the object of thousand
eyes, SO certain was the death that loom
ed before him. Proudly in his warrior
beauty he rode that steed, his hair float
ing from beneath his cap in raven curls
upon the wind.
He turns his head-his men see his
face with stern lip and knit brow; they
feel the fire of his eyes; they hear not
"men forward ~ but "men follow!' and
away, like an immense battle engine
composed of eighty-four men and horses,
woven together by swords-away and
on they dash.
They near the ravine; old Taylor fol-
lows them, with hushed breath, aye,
clutchiDg his sword hilt, ne sees the
golden tassel of May, cleaning in the
cannon fash.
They are on the verge of the ravine,
May still in front, his charger finging
the earth from beneath him, with CO.
lossal leaps, when from among the can
non, starts up half clad figure, red
with blood and begrimmed with powder.
It is Ridgely, who to-day has sworn
to wear the mantle of Ringgold, and to
wear IL we'll Atsonee his eves catch