se of the hill, and Magruder was ordered to
detach a section of his battery in support. Jackson was selected for
the duty, and as he approached the enemy's position dangers
multiplied at every step. The ground alongside was so marshy that the
guns were unable to leave the road. A Mexican fieldpiece, covered by
a breastwork, raked the causeway from end to end, while from the
heights of Chapultepec cannon of large calibre poured down a
destructive fire. The infantry suffered terribly. It was impossible
to advance along the narrow track; and when the guns were ordered up
the situation was in no way bettered. Nearly every horse was killed
or wounded. A deep ditch, cut across the road, hindered effective
action, and the only position where reply to the enemy's fire was
possible lay beyond this obstacle. Despite the losses of his command
Jackson managed to lift one gun across by hand. But his men became
demoralised. They left their posts. The example of their lieutenant,
walking up and down on the shot-swept road and exclaiming calmly,
"There is no danger: see! I am not hit," failed to inspire them with
confidence. Many had already fallen. The infantry, with the exception
of a small escort, which held its ground with difficulty, had
disappeared; and General Worth, observing Jackson's perilous
situation, sent him orders to retire. He replied it was more
dangerous to withdraw than to stand fast, and if they would give him
fifty veterans he would rather attempt the capture of the breastwork.
At this juncture Magruder, losing his horse as he galloped forward,
reached the road.

The ditch was crowded with soldiers; many wounded; many already dead;
many whose hearts had failed them. Beyond, on the narrow causeway,
the one gun which Jackson had brought across the ditch was still in
action.

Deserted by his gunners, and abandoned by the escort which had been
ordered to support him, the young subaltern still held his ground.
With the sole assistance of a sergeant, of stauncher mettle than the
rest, he was loading and firing his solitary field-piece, rejoicing,
as became the son of a warrior race, in the hot breath of battle, and
still more in the isolation of his perilous position. To stand alone,
in the forefront of the fight, defying the terrors from which others
shrank, was the situation which of all others he most coveted; and
under the walls of Chapultepec, answering shot for shot, and plying
sponge and handspike with desperat