The age-herald., 1898-08-23
STORIES OF
 THE MEXICAN WAR

From the Chicago I1meS-Herald.
 When the volunteers went to Mexico, in 1S46, they were the pride of the people and nothing was too good for them. They were ''patted on the back" so to speak, and were loaded down with gifts, reasonable or ridiculous. Well-intending persons in all conditions of life vied with each other in their attentions to the imminent heroes. And these attentions were heartily sincere. as they always are. People admire their soldiers, though of course, this ad- miration becomes more apparent just at the time when "the note of preparation" is heard and war is more plainly in evidence. Then patriotism is stirred to it's depths, and the boys of war more the toast when danger has crept close to them.
 
 The volunteers for Mexico went away with flying colors, their bands playing that same old tune, "The Girl I Left Behind Me-" and they went from amid demonstra- tions of popular appreciation such char acterized the departure few weeks ago. of our own gallant boys of the war just closed. Men now who were children then can yet see through memory's biograph, the oscillating, white stripes of the blue uniform trousers as the soldiers marched in perfectly aligned platoons, keeping even and regular step to the music the bright cockades of the leather bucket hats; the streaming and draping of the same ''Old Glory" but that had more blue in the union field, because 1t had not near so many stars.
 While that war was on, the postof1ce, when the stage coach came in was the place where the anxious multitude gath cred to learn the news of battles to get tidings from the boys, so far away, fight ing for the republic. There was not foot of railroad In Kentucky then, and very few i feet of it anywhere else. The telegraph had not been invented, and Mexico was farther away then than the Philippines are now. But the news seemed to come very quickly, and while it told of victory i that made the people jubilant it also brought sorrow in the story of those who had given their lives the fields of PaIo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Cherubusco, Monterey, Cerro Gordo and Buena Vista, Among the gallant fallen of the KentucS- ians was young Henry Clay, the idolizSd son of the great commoner who died 1ead- ing his command in a charge of cavalry at Buena Vista.
 when the volunteers came Dack rom Mexico" marked an era from which people dated things. This or that happened "be- fore after that time.
 What heroes and curiosities they weret And what interesting things they brought back with them! Curious and rich jewelry, mustang ponies, Spanish guns, swords, pis- tols, spurs and even live, dark-slsnned Mexicans. But the soldiers themselvesi 
 strange stories to tell. The yarns were catching. Bib Scroggins, a journeyman cabinet-maker who lived in Danville during the entire war; and in fact had never been a hundred miles away from there in all his life, got a habit of telling what he had seen in Mexico until he came to believe it all himself. And old Wash Mack, who had really been a soldier. always afterward had some little trinket to pawn for a dram that General Santa Anna gave me- He pawned in that way after the Mexican war enough such stuff to load a freight car. and the chances are that he had never so much as clapped his eyes on Santa Anna.
 Oh the barbecues, basket meetings, picA nics, illuminations and other joyous dem- onstrations that were given in honor of the returned volunteersi The blue grass wales swarmed with people in holiday clothes, the soldiers marched and gave mimic bat ties, and they fired an old brass six-pounder that made a noise so loud the boys and girls of that day can hear it yet.
 But there was selfishness and greed in those days as now. Like him who in this city a few days ago turned a soldiers widow out of her poor little room because she had not paid the rent, there were those in that day who did likewise
 William Marvin was poet. who had got into debt before he went away as color sergeant-they were called "ensigns" then of Kentucky regiment, the Louisville Legion. He had left his wife and child in little vine-bowered cottage, but his creditors were not sentimental When the war-bronzed poet came back he found his cottage empty and the doors were barred. But he sat upon the step and wrote. re- member one verse of the poem:
 a A soldier returned to his cot;
 His feet were torn, bleeding and sore; His dogs gave the welcome that friends
 had forgot,
 As they met him in rags at his door.
 WILLIAM LIGHTFOOT VISSCHER