Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1857-10-28

loomed before nlm. Irouuly III MS
warrior beauty he rode that steed. his
hair floating from beneath his cap in ra-
ven 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 forwardl' but "men followl" 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 bushed breath, aye,
clutching his sword hilt, he 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 flingina
the earth from beneath him, with colos'
sal leaps, when from among the cannon,
starts up half clad figure, red with
blood and begrimmed with powder.
1t is Ridgely, who TO day has sworn
to wear the mantle of Ringgold. and tc
wear it WE'LL At once his eyes catch
the light now blazing in the eyes of May
and springing to the cannon he shouts
"One moment my comrade! and
will draw their fire!''
The word is not passed from his lip:
when his cannon speaks out TO the bat
terry across The ravine. His fash. hi:
smoke have not gone. but hark! Die
you not hear that storm of copper balls
clatter againgt his cannon; did You see i
dig the earth beneath the hoofs of May 4
squadron?
"Men, follow!" Do you see that face
cleaning with battle fire, that scimital
cutting its glittering circle in the nir?-
Those men can hold their shouts no Ion
ger. Rending the air with cries. Hark
The whole army cello them. They
strike their spurs, and worried into mad
ness their hor ses whirl and thunder
away TO the deadly ravine.
The old man, Taylor. said after the
battle, that he never felt his heart bea
as it did then, for it was glorious sigh
TO see that young man, May, at the head
of his squadron, dashing across the IA
vine. four yards in advance of his fore
most man, while long and dark behind
him, was stretched the solid line Of war
riors and their steeds.
Through the windows of the clouds
, some CLEANS of sunlight fell-they light
the golden tassel on the cap, they illum'
inc the dark horse and his rider with
their warm glow-they reveal The bate
ry-you see it, above The further bank
of The ravine, frowning death from every
muzzle.
Near and nearer, up and on! Never
heed the death before you though it i.
certain. Never mind the leap though i
, is terrible. Blu. up the bank and ovel
the cannon-nurrah At this moment
Just as his horse rises fer the charge
May turns and sees the sword of brave
: Inge on his right, turns again and read.
his own soul written in the fire Of Sack.
cts eye.
To his men once more he turns, his
hair floating behind him, he points tc
the cannon, TO the steep bank and the
certain death, and as though inviting
them, one and all, to his bridal feast, he
says 'Come!"
They did come. 1t would have made
your blood dance to see it. As one m an
they whirled up the bank, following
Mays sword as they would a banner
and striking madly home as they heard
through the roar of battle they heard it,
that word of frenzy, "Come!'
As one mass Of barred chests, leaping
horses and dazzling scimitars, they
charged upon the bank; the cannon S
fire rushed into their faces; Inge, even
as his shout rang on the ar, was laid g
mangled thing before his steed, hi:
throat torn open by cannon shot. Sack.
ct was buried beneath his horse, and
seven dragons fell at the battery's muz-
zles, their blood and brains whirled into
their comrades eyes.
Sill May is yonder. above the clouds,
his horse rioting over heaps of dead, as
with his sabre, circling round his flowing
hair, he cuts his way through the living
wall, and says to his come!"
All around him, friend and foe, their
swords locked together-yonder the
blaze of musketry showered the iron hail
upon his band-beneath his horses feet
the deadly cannon and ghasty corpse,
still that young man riots on, for Taylor
has said "Siience that battery" and he
will do it.
The Mexicans are driven from their
guns, their cannons are silenced, and
Nays heroic band scattered ameng the
mazes of The chapparal, are entangled in
wall Of bayonets. Once more the
combat deepens and dyes the sod in
blood. Hedged in by that wall of steel,
May gathers eight of his men and hews
his way back toward the captured bat
terry. As his charger rears, his sword
circles above his head, and sinks blow