Year: 1860

in triumph as his life-blood gushes in a tor
rent over bis muscular form. That instant
the foil light Of the battle was upon his
mangled face. Then flinging the captured
flag to brother soldier, be shouted -
Give it to her as a memorial Of Buena
Vista Ny wife !" These were his last
words. Upon his barred breast the fury of
ten lancers rushed, and the horses hoofs
trAmpled him into the heap of dead. But
most sad and yet most glorious of all, was
the death of the second Henry Clay |!
| You should have seen him, with his back
against yonder rock, his sword grasped
firmly, as the consciousness that he bore q
name that must not die ingloriousy seemed
to fill every vein, and dart deadly fire
from his eyes. At this moment he looked
like the old man. For his brow, high and
retreating, with the blood clotted hair
waving back from its outline, was swollen in
every vein, as though his soul shone from
it, ere she fed forever. Lips set, brows
knit, hand frm-a circle of men fighting
around him-he dashed into the Mexcans
until his sword was wet, his arm weary
with blood.


At last, with his thigh Splintered with
ball, he gathered his proud form to its full
hight, and fell. His face ashy with intense
agony, he bade his companions to leave
him there to die. That ravine should be
the bed Of bis glory. But gathering round
him q guard of breasts and steel-while
two Of them bore him tenderly along
these men of Kentucky fought round their
fallen hero, and, as retreating step by step,
they launched their swords and bayonets
into the faces Of the foe, they said with
every blow, Henry Clay" 1t was won,
derful to see how that name nerved their
arms, and called a smile to the face Of the
dying hero. How il should have made the
heart Of the old man Of Ashland throb to
have heard his name yelled as battle.cry,
down the shadows Of that lonely pass
Along the ravlne and up the narrow path
the hero bleeds as they bear him on, and
tracks the way with bis blood. Faster and
thicker the Mexicans swarm-they see the
circle around the fallen man, even his pale
face uplifted as a smile crosses its fading
liueame9is, and like a pack of wolves
scenting the frozen traveller at the dead of
night, they come bowling up the rocks and
charge on the devoted band with one dense
mass Of bayonets Up and on the light
shines yonder on the topmost rocks of the
raVine. 1t is the light of the setting SUM-
Gen. Taylor's eye is on that rock, and
there we will 6ght our way, and die in the
old mans sight


1t was q murderous way, that path upI
the steep bank Of the ravine. Uttered
with dead, slippery with blood, it grew
blackeesand blacker every moment with
Mexicans, and the defenders Of the wound
ed here fell one by one into the chasm
yawning all around. At last they reached
the light, the swords and bayonets glitter
in sight Of the contending armies, and the
bloody contest roars towards the topmOst
roch.


Then it was that gathering up bis dying

frame-armed with supernatural vigor-
Clay started from the arms of his support
ers and stood with outstretched hands in
the light of the setting sun. 1t was glo-
rious sight which he saw there, amid the
rolling battle clouds; Santa Annals formi-
dable array hurled back into raVine and
gorge by Taylor's little band. But more
glorious thing it was, that dying man
standing, for the last time, in the light Of
the sun. which never shall rise for him
again.


Leave me !" he shrieked, as he fell
back on the sod "I must die, and l will
die here Peril your lives no longer for
mel Go! There is work for you yonderl"


The Mexicans crowded on, hungry for
blood. Even as he spoke. their bayonets,
glistening by hundreds, were leveled at the
throats Of the devoted band. By the mere
force Of their overwhelming numbers, they
crushed them back from the side of the
dying Clay. Only one fingered; a brave
man who had known the chvilric soldier,
and loved him long; he stood, and covered
as he was with blood, heard these last
words


"TN my father AOrO I died, and giue hin,
these pistols p


Lifting bis ashy face into the light, he
turned his eyes upon his comrade'S-placed
the pistols in his hands-and fell back to
bis death. That comrade, with the pistols
in bis grasp, fought bis way alone to the
! tonnoost rark of tho Oath and only onrA