With ample courage and enthusiasm the men advanced nearly a mile under the fire of the citadel—which, as Taylor privately admitted, “done considerable execution”—and before long under the worse fire of the redoubt in front; but they staggered in the smashing blast of lead and iron, their formation became very irregular, and after a time, though not within effective musket or rifle range, they began to fire at will. Colonel Davis, then some distance in advance on his iron-gray, Pompey, grew impatient at the waste of time, ammunition and life, and as the redoubt stopped firing just then, he cried, “Now is the time. Great God, if I had fifty men with knives I could take that fort.” Then he waved his sword, and called on his men to charge. Colonel Campbell, equally ignoring his brigade commander, did the same; and both regiments hurried on as groups and individuals, each man trying to outstrip the rest.[10]
Fortunately the time was ripe. Worn down by several hours of excitement and exertion—for noonday was now approaching—the Mexicans felt a reaction. The stubborn perseverance of the Americans daunted them. Captain Backus and about 100 men of the First Infantry, not receiving the order to withdraw, had climbed to the parapeted roof of a building about 130 yards from the redoubt and now persistently annoyed them. They looked for the reserves; but perhaps Garland’s operations prevented sending them, and certainly none came. Ammunition began to fail. The muskets were hot and foul. The cloth of the sand-bags took fire, and made the parapet extremely uncomfortable. Carrasco, the commander, who had run away at the Resaca, now openly took flight again; and a part of the garrison, formed to charge upon the Americans, were seen, or at least were supposed, to be retreating. A panic seized the troops, and almost in an instant the guns were abandoned and the redoubt stood nearly empty. A few minutes more, and tall, powerful McClung of the Mississippi Rifles leaped upon the parapet and waved his sword. By the same way or bursting through the sallyport, equally brave men of both regiments came close after him. Thirty or thirty-five prisoners were seized. An American flag went up; and after a brief conflict the tannery also—practically abandoned by the enemy—was taken.[10]
During Quitman’s advance the First Ohio approached the city farther to the right. It was well officered, for besides its colonel, Brigadier General Hamer, the Hooker of Chancellorsville, the Johnston of Shiloh, Major General Butler and Major General Taylor accompanied it; but it failed to accomplish anything. A second attempt was equally unfortunate, but when Taylor—evidently despairing of success—had ordered it out of town, word came of Quitman’s achievement. The regiment was then sent into the fight again. Garland’s remnant, still in the outskirts of the city, came up; Quitman’s troops were ordered to coöperate; and a determined effort was made to gain the rear of El Diablo. Both grand and pitiful that effort was. As an exhibition of pluck it could hardly have been surpassed. Taylor, fighting on foot, matched Richard Coeur de Lion storming Front de Boeuf’s castle; and his intrepidity was so flawless and unforced that courage appeared to all round him the easy and only way. To die under such a leader seemed the acme of living. It was not war, but it was grand fighting.[10]
“We were not many, we who stood
Before the iron sleet that day;
Yet many a gallant spirit would
Give half his years if but he could
Have been with us at Monterey.
And on, still on our column kept
Through walls of flame its withering way;