Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1890-08-23
A BABY In THE BATTLE.
AN INCIDENT IN THE CAREER OF
. HEROIC LORD CHARLES HAY.

Front ana delivered At 10 tho Mother.
"Hellol What's Young salamander'
up to nowf"
"Mad, I fancy, or else ho wants to get
killed."
"And so he will, whether he wants It
or not, if he goes running in among the
bullets like that"
In truth young S~alamapder" (other-
wise Lord Charles Hay of the First Life
Guards) did seem to be running q fearful
risk without any reason whatever. One
of the hardest battles ever fought be-
tween the French and English in Bel
GUM was at its hottest. The French
army was much the stronger of the two,
and although the English held their
ground as stubbornly as bulldogs it
seemed very doubtful which way the
fight would go. Just then, in the thick
of the uproar and confusion, the rolling
smoke and the flying shot, young Hay
(whose bravery under fire had long since
earned him the nickname of ''Salaman-
der" from his adoring soldiers) was seen
to step forth from the English line and
advance straight toward the enemy.
A DESPERATE VENTURE.
A more desperate venture could hardly
be imagined, for 30 thickly were the bull
lets flying between the two opposing
Zines that the little jets of dust which
they knocked up from the dry earth
formed a cloud almost as dense as the
smoke itself. Nothing mortal surely
could live in such a storm of shot; and
what could he possibly be going to do
there?
"Come back, my lord; come back, for
heavens sakeg" shouted a dozen deep
voices at once.
1.-THE young FOOLS mad-stark mad!"
roared the English colonel, recovering
from his stupor of amazement. "Come
back this minute, you young idiot Do
you want to be killed."
But Lord Charles still went forward
without a moments pause, rs if he had
not heard them. Then the English
ceased firing in sheer astonishment; but
just at that moment the fash and crackle
of a fresh volley burst forth like a storm
along the glittering line of French bayo-
nets, and all was hidden in smoke. When
the smoke cleared again every one expect
ed to see the brave lad lying dead. But
no-Hay was still on his feet. His cap
had been struck off, and some said that
they could see blood on his face, but he
was still marching onward as steadily as
ever.
And now the French grenadiers, begin
ming to descry him through the rolling
smoke, stopped firing in their turn, sup
posing that this single man who was
coming toward them so boldly from the
English line must be the bearer of some
message from the British general, and
the attention of the two contending hosts
was bent upon the solitary figure be-
tween them. Just then asudden gust of
wind whirled aside for q moment the
cloud of smoke and dust, and every one
saw for the first time what Lord Charles
Hay was about.
A little to the left Of the English line
Of battle stood q cluster of miserable
novels, and the Flemish peasants who in
habited them, instead of running away
when the battle began, as one might
have expected, had stayed where they
were, seeing that the fight seemed to DO
rolling away from them, and not liking
the idea of abandoning their huts, which,
poor and wretched as they were, were
the only home that they had. But they
soon found that they were mistaken, for
n sudden change in the position Of the
two armies brought these unlucky cot
tages right into tho line of fire, and tho
terrified peasants, finding the cannon
balls falling thickly on every side of
them, took TO their heels at once, drag
ging with them their children and what
few goods they could manage TO carry.
In the hurry of this panic flight n tiny
girl, hardly old enough to walk alone,
had fallen or been left behind, and was
now lying on the ground midway be-
tween the French and English lines, cry
ing bitterly, while her mother could DO
seen in the distance shrieking wildly and
tossing her arms in the air and strug-
Cling to break loose from her hus band,
who was holding her firmly, for, count
ing his child already lost, he had no wish
to lose his wife as well.
~ LAbOEb Dt AhE L4NAsAiis
! Coolly as if on parade the brave young
guardsman strobe onward to the spot
where the helpless child lay, his fair hair
and bright young face showing through
the billowy smoke like those of an angel
in some old Italian painting. He raised
1t tenderly in his arms, and some who
saw it said afterward that the poor little
fraprhlor rnaca1 orVinnr ~ Nna1 -. 20
soothed and comforted by his gentle
voice and kindly smile. Then, keeping
his own body as much as possible be-
tween the child and the leveled muskets
Of the French, he went straight on, as
calmly as ever, toward the dark mass of
his enemies.
"Dont fire, comrades-don't fret"
shouted a tall stern looking French
soldier, whose grim face was black with
dust and gunpowder. "If he were
twenty times an Englishman, he's as
good rs saint from heaven, for all that!"
At that moment a mighty shout, which
was heard high above the roar of cannon
and musketry from the other side of the
battlefield, burst from the English ranks
as they saw their young hero bearing
the child unframed across that deadly
space, and scarcely had the cheer died
away when it was echoed by an answer
ing cheer from the French, which rolled
along the vast plain like a peel OF dis
tant thunder. Meanwhile the young
officer, passing close to the cruel points
of the French b~ayoncts as coolly as IL
they had been only buirushes, with the
tiny face nesting ~trusangly against his
shoulder, went straight up to the dis
tracted mother and placed the child in
her arms.
Then he kissed the tiny thin little
cheek tenderiy, and was just turning