Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1861-09-04

of the brave three hundred that garrison
that Fort. Let us watch the brave " Ar
my of Occupation as it winds slowly
towards Fort Brown. Company after COM
pany pass, with their gallant officers by
their sides.
March on, brave soldiers, for plain lies
before you where many will find resting
place for their weary limbs in the calm
sleep of death But watch yondor officer,
as he proudly rides his spirited horse be-
fore his regiment. 1t 10 the brave Ring
gold, and in his regiment is-our hero, :.Ro-
bert Stafford.
But before us now lies level plain of
abont three miles in extent, and surround
ed by the almost impcnetrable chappara.
tits the plain of Palo Alto. 1t is the
stage upon which, ere the sun shall set
will be acted many deed of cruelty, tnalg
deed Of glory. On one side drawn up
IN battle array, with their bayonets flashing
in the the sunlight, is the Mexican Army
on the other the iron-nerved men of the
American army are ready for the conflict.
On one side the tri-colored flag Of Mexico
floats in the mondays breeze; on the
other hangs the glorious stars and stripes
that had SO often waved over the field of
victory and never yet had been disgraced
by its brave standard-bearers. Will it
again, to dag, float over the field of victory?
We shall see. The roar of the Mexican
cannon announces that the battle has be-
gun, and the answering roar from the
American ranks, show too, that tLev also
are ready. A beautiful writer in speaking
of this battle, says:
The smoke of the Mexican cannon,
and the smoke of the American battery,
foated slowly into the sky, met in the Sc
rene air, and formed bridge of cloud
above the heads of the contending ar
mics"
The battle thus began, and for hours it
continued without mitigation. On the
right of the American line stood the gal
liant Ringgold. Time at .er time he aimed
the cannon, and when the match was ap-
piled its work was terrible in the Mexican
lines
At length the enemy could stand the
American fire no longer, and retreated to
the edge of the chapparal, when the battle
began anew. Again the iron balls whirl
on their mission of death, and hundreds Of
American and Mexicans lie dead upon the
field. The gallant Ringgold falls mortally
wounded, and his band gather around him.
Among them is our hero, who had become
much attached to Ringgold, and now
weeps bitter tears when he secs him a
wreck upon the field of battle. But the
thunders of battle still roll on, The proud
Arista makes another desperate effort to
conquer. lie is baffied, and the shout of
victory runs through the American lines.
What sad spectacle is field of vic
tory, or in the language of another,
field of human slaughter" And when
the reOeilte cali the survivors together and
the roll is called, how sad to see so many
poor fellows not there to answer to their
names But let us look to our hero
Where is he9 Not among the wounded.
Stop His name is called-a moment Of
siIence-no answer.
"Dead Poor fellow !" came from the
| lips of his companions.
But he is not dead, but bloody and
wounded he lies upon the battle field
But we must bid Taylor and bis men an
affectionate adieu, as the lot of our hero is
hereafter separate from that gallant army.
Every one knows their glorious afterdc eds
on the plains of Resaca de la Palma y
and Buena Vista," and also at " Monte
rey;" or, can learn them from the pages of
history.
Robert lay among the battle dead, toss
ing his arms in the wild frenzy of delirium.
Now he would call for water, then the
words father, mother, sister, Ella" would
escape from his lips. Thus be lay for
hours, until at last the dawn of reason
came over bis mind again.
Water water!" he cried, but his
only answer was the long, dreadful cry of
the jackall as he feeds upon some of the
dead. Silently and painfully he>crawled
towards the matted chapparal in hope of
hndIng some stream or spring there. For
hours he tolls, but all in vain, he finds not
the object of his pursuit. At length, to
his great JOY, he discovered small hut
almost hid by the spreading trees. He
crawled to the door and feebly Knocked
After a considerable delay an old woman
opened the door. Wateri water I" he
cried, and tainted at her feet.
For weeks the old woman watched over
him, as he hovcred apparently on the brink
of the grave. He slowly recovered, but
it was months before he could walk on ac.
count of the loss of blood and his wounds.
Often, when laying upon his rude bed,
with the kind old woman bending over
him, did he think of home. Often did he
sigh to be there once more. Daily the
old woman read to him chapter of the
Bible, and bitterly he repentcd of his for
mer evil ways. One day she read to him
the story of the " "Prodigtl son." and he
determined then to do like that boy like
him to seek his fathers house and ask for
giveness.
y =
Twas a beautiful evening in spring
The sun was just sinking in the western
,, sky, and the ripping waters of the Ala
bama reflected its last rays. The gentle
breeze was balmy with the breath of flow
ers, and the gay birds made the woods
merry with their last evening songs. The
fairy cottage with its vine, covered portico
looked as pretty as it did six years ago.
At length the birds all sought their nests
and hushed their songs, and now not a
sound breaks the breeze that broods over
the scene except the monotonous scape-
pipes Of beautiful steamer as it comes
swiftly up the river, and stops for moment
| aft the landino Only one nassenper Oets