none of the engagements of the war stand out with greater distinctness than does the victory at Buena Vista and that desperate fight which, waged near the convent at Cherubusco, won the way to Mexico.

In both engagements the Mexicans outnumbered the Americans almost four to one; but Buena Vista was fought almost under the shadows of that uncertainty as to the real fighting-qualities of Mexico's legions and the real persistence of America's bayonets which not even the valor of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma nor all the bloody memories of the determined fury at Monterey could yet quite remove; Cherubusco was almost the last of that unbroken series of victories that had, by that time, made America over-confident and Mexico despondent.

Pressing through the narrow defiles of those high Sierras that flank the open table-lands of Northern Mexico came, rank after rank, on the twenty-second of February, 1847, the army of Santa Anna, twenty thousand strong. Encamped upon a circumscribed plateau, that commanded the approaches upon every side, the little force of General Taylor, a scant five thousand men, awaited the onset of the foe. The army of the stout old American commander had been shorn of half its fighting strength, taken for the reinforcement of Scott's new army that was to march upon Mexico from the sea. This demand had withdrawn from Taylor's army, already small enough for operations in a hostile country, nearly all of the regulars, Worth's volunteers and Quitman's and Twiggs' commands. Enraged at the defeats in the north the Mexicans, in overwhelming numbers, had gathered under the lead of their wariest and most sful general to fall upon and utterly crush out this little at of northern invasion that had retreated from Agua

Nueva and between whom and destruction there only waited the merciless order of the Mexican leader to slay and spare not. The situation was desperate indeed.

“You are surrounded by twenty thousand men," came the summons of Santa Anna to Taylor. "You cannot avoid being cut to pieces with your troops. Surrender at once and you shall be treated with that consideration that belongs to the Mexican character."

And back went the brief but plucky reply of "Old Rough and Ready:" "I decline to accede to your request."

Then Ampudia's light infantry rushed to the attack. The battle was joined:

"Like the fierce northern hurricane

That sweeps his great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gain

Came down the serried foe.

Who heard the thunder of the fray

Break o'er the field beneath

Knew well the watchword of that day

Was Victory or Death!"

But Ampudia's men fire wildly. The American riflemen. are sure and steady of aim. And when the sun sank behind the overhanging hills the Americans still hold with stubborn determination the key to their position - La Angostura, "The Narrows," that pass of scanty width just south of the farm house of Buena Vista, through which the main portion of Santa Anna's army must push their way if they hope to gain the expected victory. And so night fell upon the field.

But the sun rose on a renewed struggle. Strongly reinforced, Ampudia's men drive in the American pickets. From five different positions the Mexicans press to the attack.

Destruction seems inevitable. The Indiana troops turn in flight, O'Brien's battery, deprived of its support, is overwhelmed and captured by the Mexican host it has so valiantly held at bay. The American left is turned. Fleeing soldiers rush wildly into Buena Vista crying that the day is lost.

But still the Americans hold the narrow pass. Charge as they will the men of Villamie's column cannot dislodge the little American battery that commands the roadway through the defile of Angostura. Victory trembles in the balance. Suddenly loud cheers ring out at Buena Vista and in a column of dust, spurring to the aid of his boys at bay in the Narrows, Old Rough and Ready comes riding from Saltillo where he has been arranging for the protection of his rear-guard.

"Never mind Villamie," he cried; "he's done for. Washington can hold the pass. Send the Mississippi riflemen to the left. Bring up the Third Indiana. Let Sherman's battery support them. May, ride with your dragoons to the upper plateau. Ampudia must be checked!"

And Ampudia was checked. The Mexican lancers, fifteen hundred strong, the special pride of Santa Anna, the flower of Mexico's army, go down like grain beneath the fire of the northern riflemen. The left is strengthened. The Mexicans, blind to the real key to the field, give over their assault on the Narrows. With a last mighty clash of arms the battle centers about the little hamlet of Buena Vista and almost before they know it the field is won.

The men of Kentucky and Arkansas bear back Ampudia's ashing cavalry. Forced backward, step by step, in a desperate d-to-hand fight on horseback, go Torrejon and his dragoons. e commands of Ampudia and Pacheco, overwhelming in s are hemmed in between the narrow defiles and