I did not see much of the war: as I was only in two actions—those of Buena Vista and Cerro Gordo.
I know that some of the people of Europe have but a very poor opinion of the fighting qualities of the Mexicans, and may not dignify the actions of Buena Vista and Cerro Gordo by the name of battles. These people are mistaken. The Mexicans fought well at Buena Vista, notwithstanding that they were defeated by men, said to be undisciplined.
It has been stated in a London paper that the Mexicans are more contemptible, as an enemy, than the same number of Chinamen. The author of that statement probably knew nothing of either of the people he wrote about; and he was thus undervaluing the Mexicans for no other reason, than that of disparaging the small but brave army to which I belonged.
The Mexicans are not cowards. An individual Mexican has as much moral and physical courage as a man of any other country. As a general thing they have as little fear of losing life or limb as any other people. “Why then,” some may ask, “were they beaten by a few thousand American volunteers?”
Without attempting to answer this question, I still claim that the Mexicans are not cowards.
In the battle of Buena Vista I lost the horse obtained by exchange from Dayton. The animal had been my constant care and companion, ever since I became possessed of him; and had exhibited so much character and intellect, that I thought almost as much of him, as I did of Dayton, my dearest friend.
In my opinion, it is not right to take horses on to the field of battle. I never thought this, until I had my steed shot under me—when the sight of the noble animal struggling in the agonies of death, caused me to make a mental vow never again to go on horseback into a battle.
This resolve, however, I was soon compelled to break. Another horse was furnished me the next day—on which I had to take my place in the ranks of my corps.
One day the company to which I belonged had a skirmish with a party of guerilleros.
We were charging them—our animals urged to their greatest speed—when Dayton’s horse received a shot, and fell. I could not stop to learn the fate of the rider, as I was obliged to keep on with the others.