Others contributed essentially, however. Wool, who commanded on our left, played the rôle of the fearless professional soldier that he was. Many other officers and certain corps exhibited a heroism of the noblest quality. Our artillery was beyond praise for both daring and skill. As Wool said in his report, the army could not have stood for "a single hour" without it; and the batteries served indispensably, moreover, as rallying-points for the infantry. The lancers, cantering over the plain and finishing the American wounded, gave great assistance by exasperating and warning our men; and even Miñón helped us, for he made it look extremely dangerous, during much of the time, to set out for Saltillo.[1]
Nor should our foes be undervalued. While it was said afterwards that a number of the higher officers did badly, the troops earned by their wonderful march, their endurance of hunger and especially thirst, and their valiant fighting under the terrible fire of the American artillery, a liberal mead of praise. In fact, when due allowance is made for the numbers of their almost valueless cavalry and for the position, equipment, supplies and comparative freshness of the Americans, one finds the two armies not very unevenly matched, and so far as fighting was concerned, the engagement proved almost or perhaps quite a drawn battle.[2]
Then followed a night almost as hard as the day. In killed and wounded Taylor had lost 673 officers and men,[3] and in spite of his personal influence 1500 or 1800 appear to have quit the field. Those who remained, fatigued not only by their exertions but in consequence of the rarefied atmosphere, found themselves at the end of their strength, both physical and moral. Evidently the Mexicans were not so contemptible. Only one of our regiments had kept its face always toward the enemy. Some of the bravest leaders had fallen. The death of so many comrades depressed all. In too many cases officers had lost confidence in their men, or men in their officers. Many home letters were written that night, and they were all despondent. The howl of the wolf and the creaking flap of the buzzard reached the very souls of the sleepless men shivering in the cold. Wool felt compelled to use the flat of his sword on some of the officers, and even that did not make them stir. Officer after officer assured Taylor that no more
