fteenth, fell wounded. The New York regiment suffered
fearfully, and their leader, Colonel Burnett, was disabled. The
Palmettos of South Carolina, and the Ninth under Ransom, were as
severely cut up; and after a while all sought shelter in and about a
large barn near the causeway. Shields, in an agony at the failure of his
movement, cried imploringly for volunteers to follow him.

The appeal was instantly answered by Colonel Butler, of the Palmettos:
"Every South Carolinian will follow you to the death!" The cry was
contagious, and most of the New Yorkers took it up. Forming at angles to
the causeway, Shields led these brave men, under an incessant hail of
shot, against the village of Portales, where the Mexican reserves were
posted. Not a trigger was pulled till they stood at a hundred fifty
yards from the enemy. Then the little band poured in their volley,
fatally answered by the Mexican host. Butler, already wounded, was shot
through the head and died instantly. Calling to the Palmettos to avenge
his death, Shields gives the word to charge. They charge--not four
hundred in all--over the plain and down upon four thousand Mexicans
securely posted under cover. At every step their ranks are thinned.
Dickenson, who succeeded Butler in command of the Palmettos, seizes the
colors as the bearer falls dead; the next moment he is down himself,
mortally wounded, and Major Gladden snatches them from his hand.

Adams, Moragne, and nearly half the gallant band are prostrate. A very
few minutes more and there will be no one left to bear the glorious
flag.

But at this very moment a deafening roar is heard in the direction of
the _tete de pont_. Round shot and grape, rifle-balls and canister, come
crashing down the causeway into the Mexican ranks from their own
battery. Worth is there, the gallant fellow, just in time. Down the road
and over the ditch, through the field and hedge and swamp, in tumult and
panic the Mexicans are flying from the bayonets of the Sixth and
Garland's brigade. A shout, louder than the cannon's peal; Worth is on
their heels with his men. Before Shields reaches the causeway he is by
his side driving the Mexican horse into their infantry, and Ayres is
galloping up with a captured Mexican gun. Captain Kearny, with a few
dragoons, dashes past, rides straight into the flying host, scatters
them right and left, sabres all he can reach, and halts before the gate
of Mexico. Not till then does he perceive that he