LIEUTENANT-COLONEL WATSON. LIEUTENANT-COLONEL W. H. WATSON was a native of Baltimore, a lawyer by profession, and the especial favourite of the circle of acquaintances in which he moved. Like the gallant Ringgold, he fell in the full blaze of victory. On the night of the 20th of September, his troops lay on their arms, and arose early in the morning, wet with heavy rains, and exhausted by fatigue and fasting. In this condition they advanced to the attack. Directly across their road was a field of corn, and as the men passed between the bending stalks, they knew not but that at each step they would hear the burst of the enemy's cannon, or a roar of musketry from thousands of concealed riflemen. For an hour they toiled through weeds and brambles, until emerging from the field, each soldier involuntarily started to see before him a huge battery frowning with artillery, and lined with platoons of infantry. Its guns opened at once, and the blood of the youthful volunteers rushed thrilling through their veins, as they heard the whistling of balls, and felt that, for the first time, they were standing in the march of death. All was confusion and uncertainty, some were advancing to assault the redoubt, others were marching a different way to the city. Suddenly a single horseman swept across the field, and with a voice that arose above the peals of artillery, called the assailants from their line. It was Colonel Watson. He dismounted, and the next moment his noble steed reared high in air, and fell dead. Men, shelter yourselves,' shouted the colonel, and as though by one impulse, each one fell flat upon the ground, while around and behind them balls were falling like showers of hail. It was a moment of terror. The man is brave who can face an opposing army, even when he has the hurry of march and resistance to excite him; but (245) to lay inactive while thousands of balls from a sheltered foe are ploughing the ground around you, is something more than brave. In a little while the fire of the enemy slackened; and taking advantage of it, the colonel leaped from the ground, and called to his men to follow him. They hurried into the city, and entered a lane, apparently secure from the artillery. They had advanced a little distance, when a roar of cannon, succeeded by another and another, awakened them to a knowledge of their fearful situation. Three full batteries glared upon them from a distance of but one hundred yards, raking the street from one end to the other, while two twelve-pounders opened upon them from the castle in front, and every house, and every wall was bristling with rows of musketry. All at once this tremendous train opened. Then there was a pause, and as the echo rolled fainter and fainter in the distance, it was succeeded by the startling tones of command, the shrieks of the wounded, and the deep moans of the dying. On the devoted line marched, when a second discharge scattered their ranks like a whirlwind, and men and horse leaped in the air, and fell writhing beneath the hurrying feet of their companions. The earth shook under this heavy cannonade, and the strong old walls of Monterey toppled as though in an earthquake. Over the space of two hundred yards the soldiers were exposed to this awful fire, without the possibility of resisting it. At length they halted at a cross street, and turned to survey the line of march. It was a sickening spectacle. Their track was traced with blood; and here and there groups of man and horse, dead and wounded, told of the points where they had received the discharges of artillery. Some were calling piteously to their companions, others raving in the agonies of death, their last thrilling appeals, rendering more awful than battle itself the interval of death. Then the artillery re-commenced, sweeping the whole street, and crossing and re-crossing at every corner. Each man fled to a place of safety. Some leaped into ditches, others fell flat upon the ground, a few concealed themselves behind an old wall, and a large number sat down with their backs against the houses. On came the iron showers, rattling and crashing like hail, and sweeping soldier after soldier before it. The dead and wounded were lying at every spot. The wretch who once fell had no hope; ball after ball would riddle him, until he was torn to pieces. Now a cannon-ball would strike LIEUTENANT-COLONEL WATSON. 247 one, and scatter the bleeding fragments in every direction; and the next moment another would start from his bloody couch, utter a piercing shriek, and fall back dead. None that witnessed that terrible scene ever expected to escape unhurt. How they did is unaccountable. Balls were continually pouring around, above and beneath them; under the arms, through the locks and clothing, and falling at their feet after striking the walls above. Thus the troops remained for a quarter of an hour, and then arose and formed, preparatory to making an attack upon the fort. In the march, Colonel Watson became separated from his men, and soon after joined another column. The battle was still raging, but he rode from rank to rank, cheering and encouraging his men as calmly as though in a parade. Animated by his example, they forgot danger and weariness, and pressed on with alacrity. A flush of excitement-proud and patriotic-passed over his cheeks as bending forward, he spurred his steed toward the head of the column. A moment after, the same steed was coursing wildly through the street, and his intrepid rider lay cold in death. He was shot in the neck by a musket ball. Thus fell the pride and idol of the Baltimore volunteers, no less distinguished for his generosity and goodness of heart, than for his bravery and chivalry. Amid the well-deserved praises bestowed upon the generals of that assault, little mention is made of his brave battalion, who with himself enacted so conspicuous a part; but were the complete history of their chivalric struggles on that day written, posterity would be proud to award them a share of glory not inferior to any corps who were battling with them. On the reception of the news that he had fallen, the sons of Baltimore hasted to bestow on his remains similar honours to those conferred on Ringgold. The legal and military societies met, together with the society of Odd Fellows, and adopted appropriate expressions of their sensibility for his loss. At a meeting of the bench and bar, Judge Le Grand chairman, John McMahon made the following remarks: "In the midst of victory, which had shed a glory over our country's history, when the notes of triumph were sounding over our land, this hour we are called upon to mourn the death of a fellowcitizen, a member of this bar. He had left us with high hopes and aspirations of the future, and had yielded up his life for his country's honour. We who once knew him here, shall know h.m no more on earth. Death generally comes to us in a different manner, with weeping friends around; but death has come to him in the hour of victory. In looking around among those who were on that battlefield, we recognised the names of many members of the bar in sister states, who had volunteered their services to uphold their country's honour. It was not to be expected that when blows were to be found in the battle-field, the lawyers would be out of the way, but would be found in their country's ranks. They are found so always, and always so may they be found. With feelings of mingled sorrow and exultation, 1 now move the adoption of the following resolutions: "Resolved, That while we participate in the joy that gladdens every heart at the brilliant and triumphant successes of our country's soldiers in the desperate battles which won the surrender of Monterey to their courage and gallantry, we have heard with deep, unaffected sorrow, that Baltimore has again to mourn another gallant son, in the death of Lieutenant-Colonel William H. Watson, who, with his brave companions in arms, volunteered at the first call of his country, and nobly fell while leading his battalion to victory. "Resolved, That while we deplore the loss of a youthful warrior, whose patriotism, courage, and untiring energy gave the brightest promise to his country, we most deeply mourn the death of one who, as a member of this bar, was respected by all for his professional bearing, and loved by those who best knew him, for the warmth and steadfastness of his friendship. "Resolved, That we sympathize with his afflicted family, in the sorrow of their bereavement, and request the chairman of this meeting to offer them our sincerest condolence. “Resolved, That, as a tribute to the memory of our departed brother and friend, we will wear suitable badges of mourning for the remainder of the present term. "Resolved, That the proceedings of this meeting be entered upon the minutes of the Baltimore County Court, with the assent of the judges, and be published in the several newspapers of the city." The remains of this noble officer were conveyed to Baltimore, und followed to their final resting-place by a concourse of people nearly two miles long. CAPTAIN R. A. GILLESPIE. CAPTAIN GILLESPIE was a native of Tennessee, but for many years prior to the Mexican war resided first in Alabama and afterwards in Texas. In the latter country he served under the celebrated Hays, in his skirmishes with the Indians. He volunteered his services to General Taylor, which were immediately accepted, and his rangers performed excellent service in the march from Matamoras to Monterey. At the latter place he moved with Worth's division, and had some severe skirmishing with parties of lancers, who charged outside their works. General Henderson thus notices him in his official despatch : "In doing justice to the living, let us not be forgetful of the dead. Among the fallen in my command, we have been called upon to mourn the fate of a young officer who was the brightest ornament of the service, the soul of honour, and the pride of chivalry. He had long been employed by the government of Texas in defence of the western frontier, as the commander of a corps of mounted rangers, and probably no officer ever performed his duty with more activity and efficiency, or with more satisfaction to the country. He possessed nothing of the rough habits, ignorance, and presuming forwardness which is usually supposed to attach to the frontier soldier. He was an educated man, and a gentleman by nature; quiet in his manners, amiable in temper, just in his dealings, and strictly moral in his habits. During his connection with the present campaign, his deportment was such-so marked by a happy union of modesty with bravery, and dignity with obedience-as to win the hearts of all, and constitute him the chief favourite of the army. He followed the fortunes of General Worth, shared in all the dangers of the command, and closed his brilliant career amidst the shouts of victory. Though feeble in frame, the inspiring energies of his |