son, who was acting as his orderly, rode along the line, telling the men of the work ahead, and what he expected of them. Returning to the right of the regiment, the boy still at his side, the colonel took his position a few paces in the front, then, rising in his stirrups, gave the command, sharp and clear: 'Attention, battalion! Draw sabres! Forward! Charge!' "I was a sergeant in troop 'A,' and sat in my saddle, at a distance not exceeding ten paces from the colonel, and vividly recall seeing the boy, at the first word of that command, pitch headlong out of the saddle. I saw the colonel turn his head and look down at the body of his son, heard him complete the command, and then saw the line sweep forward in the charge. Then everything seemed to fade away in a blank. A Last Sight Before "Now, the remarkable feature of that circumstance was the fact that a piece of the same shell that unhorsed the colonel's son killed my horse, while another fragment gave me a dangerous wound in the head, one that the surgeon, upon examination, said must have rendered me unconscious the instant it struck me. In fact, I was afterwards told by a number of my comrades, who were in the ranks, that with the explosion of the shell the boy and I fell at the same instant of time. Nevertheless, I saw the boy fall to the right of his horse, and saw the riderless animal dash away in the charge, keeping close to the colonel's left side, -facts that, I was afterwards told, occurred just as I recalled them; still I had no remembrance of being wounded, nor any sensation of falling. Another peculiar feature to me of that incident was, that with returning consciousness I retained for some time the vision of that riderless gray keeping his place in the charge alongside the colonel. "Our surgeon, a man of some scientific attainment, explained my recollection of the events on the hypothesis that I had fallen in a manner that left my face exposed to the front (which was a fact), where the pupils of my wide-open but unconscious eyes had received and retained the image of the events as they transpired, and that the panoramic image thus retained had been gradually developed to my recovered reason-claiming, in fact, that I had seen nothing of what occurred until at least an hour after it had taken place. He further explained that I had never necessarily heard more than the first word of the command to charge, but knowing what was to follow, I had anticipated its completion in my mind, and, as it was the last mental impression I had received up to the moment the shock had rendered me unconscious, my returning reason had simply taken up and completed that final impression. Nevertheless, the incident, with all its details, remains as real to me as any event of my life. "With the full recovery of my faculties, I discovered I was lying with my left leg under my dead horse, and from the pain my imprisoned limb gave me I knew it must be broken. Raising myself on my hands, hoping to discover some one able to aid me, I was pleased to see 'Sammy,' the colonel's boy, sitting up on the spot where I had seen him fall, chatting as lively as a cricket with a blue-coat who sat near him. The Yankee, I Gave His Life for the Enemy. learned, had been attracted by the boy's suffering cries, and had crawled up the slope to the side of the wounded lad, where, making a rude but serviceable tourniquet from a piece of his own shirt, he had succeeded in stopping the flow of blood and saving the youngster's life. On discovering I was alive, the Yankee dragged himself over to where I lay, when I observed that he was a slim, smoothfaced boy, and, although wearing the uniform and straps of a lieutenant, he certainly could not have been more than nineteen years of age. He told me that he was shot through the lungs, and was very weak from loss of blood, and, furthermore, that our cavalry had ridden over him in their charge, injuring his leg. Nevertheless, he volunteered to try and release me from my painful position, and began at once by digging in the soft ground under my leg, using my sabre to loosen the earth, then scratching it away with his hands. After removing quite a quantity of dirt in this manner, he cut away my boot and carefully pulled it from my foot. He then got on his knees, and putting his arms about me dragged me bodily away from under the horse. The pain was so intense at the movement of my broken leg-the bones protruding through the skin-that I became unconscious, and remained so for some time. Upon recovering, I saw the young lieutenant lying quietly near me, and 'Sammy' by his side, bathed in tears. I was surprised to see the lad crying, for, notwithstanding his ugly wounds, he had before seemed cheerful enough. In reply to my inquiry as to the cause of his tears, he pointed to the young officer, saying, 'He's dead.' The boy then told me that the lieutenant's effort to pull me from under the dead animal had broken his wounds open afresh, and that while I was lying unconscious he had bled to death. "Sore with our stiffening wounds, we lay there waiting and hoping for help, until the sun went down and the stars came out, and then, weak and exhausted from loss of blood, we slept, the boy never to wake, for when help and morning finally came, we found that in his restless sleep he had loosened the bandage the lieutenant's kindly hands had wound about his shattered limb, and the little fellow, unconscious of the fact, had gone to join the generous foe that silent lay beside him." S NICKNAMES OF 1861-1865. CHOOLBOYS and soldiers seem to share an especial fondness for nicknames. In our great war, the comrades that gathered around the camp-fires had a familiar sobriquet for almost every one of their leaders. Sometimes it would be a mere abbreviation of surname or Christian name; more often it would be some epithet that gave a picture of the man-a character-study in miniature, as it were. names. It would be interesting to make a collection of these war-time nickIn many cases they throw no little light upon the personality of their wearers, and the relations that existed between commanders and men -a factor that often influenced the course of a campaign. There was General Thomas, for instance, who will go down to history as the "Rock of Chickamauga." To his soldiers he was always "Pap Thomas." General Meade's spectacles, and his proverbially keen powers of observation, were alike commemorated in his familiar appellation of "Four-eyed George." Meade accepted the name in the kindly spirit in which it was given, but other officers were more sensitive to the rough yet good-natured humor of their troops. General Butler, for example, could hardly be expected to relish the sobriquet of "Old Cockeye," due to his slight facial peculiarity. Hooker, too, is said to have protested vigorously against "Fighting Joe "-so vigorously, indeed, that he frequently proved its aptness. "Rosy," for General Rosecrans, was a mere abbreviation. More expressive were "One-armed Phil," for General Kearney, who had left an arm in Mexico; "Saddlebag John," for General Pope, who once declared that his headquarters were in his saddle; and the "Black Eagle of Illinois," for the dashing Logan. What a wealth of affection and loyalty is crystalized into "Little Phil," the name that Sheridan's troopers gave their brilliant leader! McClellan, too, was a commander of great personal popularity, and his men spoke of him as "Little Mac." Few of the nicknames of the generals on the other side of the conflict are as well known as these. "Stonewall" Jackson is historic; General Lee was always spoken of by his faithful, loving soldiers as "Mars' Bob." General Joseph E. Johnston was dubbed "Uncle Joe" by his comrades during the Mexican War, and continued to bear the same title during the "Civil War," probably because of his proverbial care and thoughtfulness of his men. General J. E. B. Stuart was always "Jeb" to his troopers. These patronymics, like the animosities which brought them into being, no longer exist save in memory, for all that noble band are now fraternizing on everlasting fields, where war's drums and battle's screech are heard never GENERAL TAYLOR'S VICTORY AT BUENA VISTA. more, The Most Gallant Exploit of the Mexican War, that Made Old Rough and Ready President. G BY EDWARD S. ELLIS, ENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT arrived off Vera Cruz in January, 1846, and assumed command of the American forces in Mexico. He had come to carry out the suggestion of General Zachary Taylor that Vera Cruz should be captured and made the point from which a strong force should penetrate into Mexico. To do this effectively, Scott took most of Taylor's best officers and troops, leaving him with less than 5,000 men, of whom not more than one-tenth were regulars. This reduction of his effective strength was a severe blow to Taylor, who was preparing to make a vigorous campaign, but he submitted without protest. Santa Anna had gathered an army of twenty thousand men, full of enthusiasm, and eager to be led against the "northern barbarians." When Taylor learned that his enemy was approaching, he was exultant, and with his small army he set out to meet him. Santa Anna's Big He left Monterey on the 31st of January, arriving at Crush Taylor. Saltillo on the 2d of February. Pressing on to Aqua Army sent to Nueva, twenty miles south of Saltillo, on the San Luis road, he remained nearly three weeks, when he fell back to Augustina, a gorge in the mountains opposite Buena Vista. Here with his army of barely five thousand men, Taylor strengthened his position and calmly awaited the coming of his antagonist. On the morning of February 22, the armies were almost within sight of each other. A flag of truce entered the American camp, with the following message from the Mexican commander to General Taylor: You are surrounded by twenty thousand men, and cannot, in any human probability, avoid suffering a rout and being cut to pieces with your troops; but, as you deserve consideration and particular esteem, I wish to save you from such a catastrophe, and for that purpose give you notice, in order that you may surrender at discretion, under the assurance that you will be treated with the consideration belonging to the Mexican character; to which end you will be granted an hour's time to make up your mind, to commence from the moment my flag of truce arrives at your camp. With this view, I assure you of my particular consideration. God and liberty I ANTONIO LOPEZ DE SANTA ANNA. The messenger did not have to wait an hour to take back the following from "Rough and Ready:" SIR:-In reply to your note of this date, summoning me to surA Laconic Answer render my forces at discretion, I beg leave to say that I decline acceding to your request. With high respect, I am, sir, your obedient servant, Z. TAYLOR. Taylor waited for Santa Anna to begin the battle. Well aware of the desperate resistance he was certain to meet, the Mexican leader was cautious. There was some skirmishing through the afternoon and night. Although it was winter, the weather was soft and balmy, and the music of the Mexican bands, mellowed by the intervening distance, floated to the Americans who were sleeping upon their arms and formed a strange prelude to the terrible scenes that were to be enacted on the morrow. It was hardly light when the battle began and raged furiously throughout the day. An attempt was made to turn the flank of the American right, but it was defeated by the Illinois troops. An assault against the centre was then repulsed by Captain Washington's artillery, after which the left flank was assailed furiously. An Indiana regiment, through a mistaken order, gave way, and for a time the American army was in peril, but the Mississippians and Kentuckians threw themselves into the breach, the Indiana and Illinois troops rallied, and the Mexicans were driven back. General Taylor, standing near Captain Bragg's battery, saw just then signs of wavering in "A Little More Grape." the enemy's line. "Give them a little more grape, Captain," he commanded, and Bragg did as he was ordered. At sunset, the Mexicans broke and fled in confusion. The Americans slept on their arms, expecting the battle to be renewed in the morning, but when daylight came it was discovered that the army had disappeared, leaving five hundred dead and dying on the ground. Many were suffering from hunger, thirst and exhaustion, and General Taylor gave them all the care possible. The Mexicans lost about two thousand men, the American casualties being seven hundred and forty-six. Among the killed was Colonel Henry Clay, a son of the Kentucky statesman. Colonel Jefferson Davis, in command of a Mississippi regiment, displayed great gallantry. The fame won by General Taylor at Buena Vista made him President of the United States within the following two years. It was the last battle in which he ever took part. He had nobly finished the task assigned to him, and soon after returned to the United States. |