XIV
A SIGHT OF THE GOAL AT LAST
The next morning the General Quitman Mohawks
and Marines marched jauntily out, headed
by Captain Gaither's company of the Third Dragoons.
The Worth division was to leave on the
morning following; the Pillow Third Regular Division
would be the last.
All Puebla gathered to see the First go. Not a few of the Mexican women were crying. The First Division was the favorite. The townspeople had named it the "Pueblan Division." They admired the way the men had stacked arms and coolly lain down to sleep in the plaza as if fearing nothing.
General Worth, dark and flashing-eyed, sitting his horse like a field marshal, called for three cheers.
"Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!"
In column of sections five men wide the First passed through the gate, and upon the National Road to the City of Mexico.
"Form platoons—march!"
"Route step—march!"
From close order of thirteen inches distance the ranks fell back to twenty-eight inches, or one pace, apart. The men might carry their guns at will, always with the muzzles up; they need not keep step and might talk.
An aide from the general staff galloped in from behind and said something to General Worth. The order rang imperative:
