The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1860-09-12

deeds of the three heroes Mckee, Har-
din and Clay. -,.e
Mckee, you see him yonder with his
shattered sword dripping with blood, he
endeavors to ward off the blow of those
deadly lances, and fights on his knees
when he can stand no longer, and then
the combatants close over him, and you
see him no more. "a <.....
Hardin arose from heap of slaughter
ed faces, his face streaming from it's hide
GUS lance wounds, and waved Mexican
flag in triumph, as his life blood rushes
in torrent over his muscular form. That
instant the full light of battle was on his
mangled face Then flinging his captur-
ed flag to a brother soldier, "Give it to
her as memorial of Buena Vista! My
wife ~ 1t was his last words. Upon his
barred breast the fury of ten lances rushed
and the horses hoof trampled him into
the heap Of dead. 81 7fHa-ia
But most sad and yet most glorious of
all, was to see the death of the second
Henry Clay. 1f aaF 7eieis4at
You should have seen him, with his
back agairst yonder rock, his sword
grasped firmly, as the consciousness that
he bore name that must not die inglo-
riously, seemed to fill his every vein, ard
dart deadly fire from his eyes! 9afee
At that moment he looked like the old
man. aF a lsalf'i1.-
For his brow, high and retreating, with
the blood clotted hair waveing back from
its outline, was swollen in every vein as
though his soul shone from it ere she fed
forever. Lips set, brows knit, hands firm
"a circle of men fighting round him
he dashed into the Mexicans until his
sword Was wet, his arms weary with
blood. lsfil iga 4 55 a
At last with his thigh splintered by.a.
ball, he gathered his proud form to its
full height, and fell His face ashy with
intense agony, he bade his comrades to
leave him there to die. That ravine should
be the bed of his glory.
But gathering around him guard of
breast of steel--whie two of their number
bore him along-these men Of Kentucky
fought round their fallen hero, and as re
treating step by step, they launched their
swords and bayonet into the faces of the
foe, they said with every blow--"Henry
Claym
1t was wonderful to see how that name
nerved their arms, and called smile to
the face of the dying hero. How it would
have made the old man cf Ashland throb
to have heard his name yelled as battle
cry down the shadows of that lonely
pass. .
Along the ravine and up the narrow
pass! The hero bleeds as they bear him
on, and tracks the way with his blood.
Faster and thicker the Mexicans swarm
they see the circle around the fallen man,
even his pale face nplfted, as a smile
crosses its fading lineaments, and like a
pack Of wolves, scenting the forlorn trav-
eler at the dead of night; they come
bowling up the rock, and charge the de-
voted hand with one dense mass of bayo.
nets
Up and onl The light shines yondel
on the topmost rock, Of the ravine. 1t is
the light of the setting sun. Old Taylor's
eyes are on that rock, and there we viii
fight our way, and die in the old mans
sight
1t was murderous way, that path ur
the steep bank Of. the ravine! Uttered
with dead, slippery with blood, it grew
blacker every moment with MexicaDs, anG
the defenders OF the wounded hero fell
one by one. into the chasm yawnine
around.
At last they reached the light, thu
sword and bayonets glitter in sight of tht
contending armies, and the bloody con
test roars towards the topmost rock. .Aa
Then it was that gathering up his dy
ling form--armed with supernatural sigor
young Clay started from the arms of hi
supporters, and stood with outstretchet
hands, in the, light of the setting sun
It was q glorious sight which he saw ther
amid the rolling attle'clouds. Sant
Annals formidable army hurled back int
ravine and gorge, by Taylor's little band
But a more glorious thing it was to Sc
that dying man., standing for the last tim
in the light of, that sun which shall neye
rise for him again bTe
"Leave me-" he .shrieked, as be. fe
back on the sod, 'I must die. and I wi
die herel Peril your life no longer fo
mel Gof There is work for you yon
DER"
! The Mexicans crowded on, hungry fo
blooda@ Even as he spoke their bayonet