It too was stormed, though under a fearful hail of grape and canister; and the rifles moved forward toward the citadel.  But at this moment Santa Anna rode furiously down to the point of attack.  Boiling with rage at the success of the invaders, he smote General Torres in the face, threw a host of infantry into the houses commanding the garita and the road, ordered the batteries in the citadel to open fire, planted fresh guns on the Paseo, and infused such spirit into the Mexicans that Quitman’s advance was stopped at once.  A terrific storm of shot, shell, and grape assailed the garita, where Captain Dunn had planted an 8-pounder.  Twice the gunners were shot down, and fresh men sent to take their places.  Then Dunn himself fell, and immediately afterward Lieutenant Benjamin and his first sergeant met the same fate.  The riflemen in the arches repelled sallies; but Quitman’s position was precarious, till night terminated the conflict.

Worth meanwhile had advanced in like manner along the San Cosme causeway, driving the Mexicans from barricade to barricade, till within two hundred fifty yards of the garita of San Cosme.  There he encountered as severe a fire as that which stopped Quitman.  But Scott had ordered him to take the garita, and take it he would.  Throwing Garland’s brigade out to the right and Clarke’s to the left, he ordered them to break into the houses, burst through the walls, and bore their way to the flanks of the garita.  The plan had succeeded perfectly at Monterey, nor did it fail here.  Slowly but surely the sappers passed from house to house, until at sunset they reached the point desired.  Then Worth ordered the attack.  Lieutenant Hunt brought up a light gun at a gallop, and fired it through the embrasure of the enemy’s battery, almost muzzle to muzzle; the infantry at the same moment opened a most deadly and unexpected fire from the roofs of the houses, and M’Kenzie, at the head of the stormers, dashed at the battery and carried it almost without loss.  The Mexicans fled precipitately into the city.

At one that night two parties left the citadel and issued forth from the city.  One was the remnant of the Mexican army, which slunk silently and noiselessly through the northern gate, and fled to Guadalupe-Hidalgo; the other was a body of officers who came under a white flag, to propose terms of capitulation.

The sun shone brightly on the morning of September 14th.  Scores of neutral flags float from the windows on the Calle de Plateros, and in their shade beautiful women gaze curiously on the scene beneath.  Gayly dressed groups throng the balconies, and at the street-corners dark-faced men scowl, mutter deep curses, and clutch their knives.  The street resounds with the heavy tramp of infantry, the rattle of gun-carriages, and the clatter of horses’ hoofs. “Los Yanquies!” is the cry, and every neck is stretched to obtain a glimpse of the six thousand