The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1913-10-13
From the Kansas City Times.


TT was October Z. 1777. Horatio Gates
stood before his tent. gazing stead
= lastly upon the two armies. now ar
rayed in order of battle. 1t was a clear,
! bracing day. mellow with the richness of
autumn. The sky was cloudless; the foil
age of the woods scarce tinged with pur-
pie and gold. But the tread of legions
shook the ground; from every bush shot
the glimmer of the rifle barrel; on every
hillside blazed the sharpened bayonet. But
all at once smoke arose, a thunder shook
shook the ground, and chorus of shouts
and groans welled along the darkened air.
The play of death had begun. The two
hags, this of the stars, that of the red
cross, tossed amid the smoke of battle,
while the sky was clouded with leaden
folds, and the earth throbbed with the
pulsations of a mighty heart
| Suddenly Gates and his officers were
startled. Along the height ON which they
stood came a rider upon a black horse
rushing toward the distant battle. Look!
he draws his sword, the sharp blade quiv-
ers through the air: he points TO the dis
| tant battle, and lo he is gone, gone
through those clouds, while his shout
echoes over the plain. Wherever the fight
| is thickest, there. through Intervals of
cannon smoke. you may see, riding mad
! ly forward, that strange soldier mounted
on his steed black as death. Look at
him as, face red with British blood. he
waves his sword and shouts to his .legions.
Now you may see him fighting in that
cannon's glare, and in the next moment
he Is away off yonder, leading the for
lorn hope up that steep cliff n
| Look for a moment into those clouds
of battle. There bursts band of Amer
lean militiamen, fleeing before that COM
pany of redcoat hirlings who come rush.
ing forward. their solid front of bayonets
cleaning in the battle light. In the mo-
ment of their fight horse comes crash
ing over the plain. The unknown rider
reins back on his launches, right in the
path of the broad shosldered militiamen.
what. are you Americans men, and
flee before British soldiers?' he shouts.
Back again and face them once more,
or I myself will ride you DOWN. Their,
leader turns; his comrades. as If by one
impulse, follow their example. In one
line but 30 men in all, they confront 30
sharp bayonets. The British advance.
Now upon the rebels, charge!' shouts
the redcoat offices. They spring forward
at the same bound. At this moment the
voice OF the unknown rider is heard: Now
let them have it! F'ire!" A sound is
heard, a smoke is seen, 20 Britons are
down. The remaining 10 start back. Club
your rifles and charge them homer
springs forward, followed by the militia
men. Then a confused conflict, a cry for
quarter, and vision of 20 farmers grouped
around the rider of the black horse greet
/ ing him with cheers.
Thus 1t was all day long. Wherever
that black horse and his rider went, there
followed victory. At last, toward the set
| ting of the sun, the crisis of the conflict
came. That fortress yonder OH Bemis
heights must be won or the American
cause is lost! That cliff is too steep. that
death is too certain The officers cannot
persuade the men to advance. The Amer
leans have lost the field. Even Nor
gan, that iron man among iron men, leans
on his rifle and despars of the field. But
look yonder! In this moment. when all is
QlSmdy ana noTrOT, mere, crashing on,
comes the black horse and his rider. And
now look! as that black steed crashes UP
+. that steep cliff. That steed quivers! he
totters! he falls. MOI MOI Still on, still
up the cliff still on toward the fortress.
The rider turns his face and shouts:
Come on, men of Quebec! come on!'
That call is needless. Already tie bold
riflemen are on the rock. Now, British
cannon pour your fires, and lay your dead
in tens and twenties on the rock. Now,
redcoat hirelings, shout your battle cry
| IL you can! For look, there, in the gate
of the fortress, as the. smoke clears away.
stands the black horse and his rider chat
steed falls dead, pierced by 100 balls; but
his rider, as the British cry for quarger,
lifts up his voice and shouts afar to Ho-
ratio Gates, waiting yonder in his tent:
Saratoga is won't AS the cry goes up
to heaven he falls. with his leg shattered
| by cannon ball
Who was the rider Of the black hors sc?
DO you not guess his Nance Then bfnd