contact with the Mexicans from the recess, who, observing the smallness of his command, rallied against him. Bissell and McKee, seeing that he was overmatched, hastened to his aid, and all three pushed vigorously forward; but suddenly queer objects appeared to be moving along the surface of the plateau at their right, and in another moment out of the ground rose a forest of muskets. This was the corps of Pérez emerging from the broad ravine. Hardin, Bissell and McKee poured upon it a hot fire. So did O'Brien with his two 6-pounders, and Chickamauga Thomas with one of Sherman's pieces. But the fire of the Mexicans, one terrific blaze and roar, was this time low and true. The air seemed thick with their bullets. Some of the Kentucky men dropped to the ground to escape them. "Up, up and on!" cried McKee, and with frantic cheers they sprang again to their work.[1]
But they fought in vain. The odds were too great, and the Americans too exhausted. "Retreat or you are lost!" was the order; and the three regiments, enveloped by the left wing of Pérez, rushed and rolled in headlong flight down the second gulch toward the road. Here the fearless Hardin, defending himself to the last with a sabre, his only weapon, sank to the ground. Here the son of Henry Clay, wounded in the thigh, refused to let his men imperil their lives by trying to carry him farther, and bravely met his fate; and here fell the gallant McKee, covered with wounds. Indeed, all seemed to be doomed alike, for lancers hurried on to close the mouth of the gulch; but suddenly Washington's guns opened with spherical case shot, and under this driving, hissing blast of iron the Americans ran breathless to La Angostura.[2]
On the plateau, during this catastrophe, the right wing of Pérez bore down upon Taylor's position at the centre. Nothing formidable stood in its way except O'Brien, for Thomas was fully occupied about one hundred yards to O'Brien's left and rear. Understanding the crisis and ready to sacrifice everything if he could only gain a little time, O'Brien fired canister till not one of his gunners was left, and the Mexicans could almost lay hands on the pieces, and then just managed to hobble away. The Mexicans now swept on at a run. The fragments at our centre were on the point of giving way. The day seemed lost.[3]
