trenchments that fringe the western slope of the grove. So quick is the advance that ere a second volley can be delivered the voltigeurs are springing over ditches and parapets, and falling in the rear of the intrenched line, whose defenders are occupied by a simultaneous front attack by the fellow-regiment. Thus surprised, there is no alternative save to fall back among the sheltering trees, where they hold forth a while against the ever-growing numbers brought up by Pillow. General Perez falls in covering the retreat, but Colonel Xicotencatl, worthy descendant of the famed Tlascaltec chieftain, rallies this overwhelmed band to fresh efforts till he also succumbs; and then they break at the foot of the hill.[1] Now the hill batteries direct their fire into the very grove, and shot and shell come crashing through the branches, scattering splinters in all directions, and shaking the heavy moss that hangs like stalactites, or even felling some ancient ahuehuete that for centuries had mutely preached the nothingness of man.
The fire from the hill is becoming unendurable, and, as the storming party is still delayed, Pillow orders the front line to take its place. A few rounds of canister and a fusillade to clear the way, and up charge the voltigeurs, seeking what shelter they can from bowlders and projections against the galling rain of bullets. Several officers fall; Pillow himself is wounded; and maddened by the loss, the men rush blindly on, changing the cry of 'Forward' into a wild yell of 'Vengeance!' Ah! the beastliness of war! Good men killing good men; patriots hewing down patriots as if each regarded the other as poisonous reptiles, when indeed there is no personal issue between them. Fools all, they and their masters — blinder than bats, more senseless than donkeys, thus to feel obliged to butcher each other a while, before settling down to an adjust-
- ↑ Some leave the impression that he fell on the summit, but he commanded the reënforcement left by Santa Anna in the grove. Roa Bárcena, Recuerdos, 483.
