"The town is ours," he scrawled in pencil to the commander-in-chief. The battery on Independence Hill now became active, however; and as Federation redoubt, of which the Americans had not heard, began to drop round shot among our troops, they had to be withdrawn about half a mile in the direction of Saltillo.[1]
Worth's courage and spirit were inflexible,'but he was a little wanting in steadiness. His impetuous, restless mind would leap to a decision without fully grasping all the facts and then it was necessary to reconsider and re — decide. In the face of the present unexpected situation he changed his plan several times, and fatigued the troops perhaps with some unnecessary movements; but by noon he concluded to storm Federation Ridge first, and Captain C. F. Smith was assigned to this task with four Artillery and five dismounted Texan companies;about three hundred or three hundred and fifty effectives. Riding up to the command Worth exclaimed in his bold, magnetic way, which went straight to the soldier's heart, "Men, you are to take that hill — and I know you will do it." "We will," they answered, and the detachment, followed by the most anxious hopes of all the other corps, moved off. It seemed like charging the clouds, but it had to be done.[2]
The intention was to gain the rear of the fort, and hence a circuitous route leading to the southern flank of the ridge was Chosen, After hurrying through cornfields and sugar-cane to the river and then upstream a considerable distance to find a crossing place, the men slid down the rough bank of the Santa Catarina, and plunged in. The swift stream, waist~deep, was hard to resist, especially as one could not help slipping on the loose round stones, and the water hissed and boiled with grape and bullets; but by good luck no casualty occurred, and the men clambered up the opposite bank. Pushing on then, after pausing for breath under the cover of thickets, they came at length to a low eminence, and concealed themselves behind a hedge while the captain reconnoitred. The main hill, which appeared to be nearly four hundred feet high, was rough, steep and covered with chaparral. The garrison seemed to be strong and resolute. The two guns made heavy odds. For quite a while Smith studied the hard problem, doubting Whether it was practicable to assault the position,
