Hand to hand, and foot to foot, through the ascending clouds of smoke, On the enemy, through them, over them, gallantly our soldiers broke, Dealing death at every stroke: then we heard the shout of MAY, And beheld his brave dragoons for an instant line the way: RIDGELY’S voice—the roar of cannon—clashing sabres—dying cries— Rose distinct, yet intermingled as a chorus, toward the skies, As the vapor separated, dashing down the rough ravine, MAY and INGE, with all their men, for an instant filled the scene— Rushing like an autumn tempest through the chapparal, down the glen, MAY, half-hidden by streaming hair, with gallant INGE led on the men, Loud hurraing: but a crash! and INGE clutched wildly at his rein— And twice a score of neighing steeds swept riderless along the plain. All in vain: another instant! MAY was riding o’er the wall, Waving on his fiery followers through the tangled chapparal; Wheeling in a moment, backward, with the same resistless force Came the hero, like a giant, on his gaunt and sinewy horse;— As our infantry came up, battling boldly by his gun, General LA VEGA yielded, and the battery was won. But the brave Tampicoäns still refused to fly or yield, And maintained the unequal fight until the last one kissed the field; When their flag went down a cry of anguish rent the Mexic ranks, And our foemen broke and fled despairing toward the river’s banks. All was over: we pursued them, and the now-descending sun, Saw RESACA DE LA PALMA’S bloody battle lost and won! ----- [1] _Resaca de la Palma_—the Swamp of Palms. _Resaca_ has no equivalent in English. Literally speaking, it is a place on which the tide ebbs and flows. [Illustration] * * * * * AN ESSAY ON AMERICAN LITERATURE AND ITS PROSPECTS. BY MRS. M. A. FORD. A NATIONAL literature, purely our own, must rise superior to an imitation of that fostered by the institutions of the old world, and of course sustaining them. The principles of liberty and independence, which govern our country, are united in our national motto, with that which only can give them permanency, Virtue. Loose this bond of union, and the beautiful fabric of our institutions falls forever. To sustain virtue in her proud position, should then be the principal aim of republican literature. It is this alone which will preserve us from the disastrous fate of former republics, beginning, like our own, with a dawn of prosperity most auspicious, but whose fall, when at the very noon of fame and power, startled and disappointed a world. Most of the writers and philosophers of ancient times, who defended virtue, wrote, regardless of the vengeance of those corrupt and luxurious governments under which they lived.