The government appreciated, applauded, and rewarded the conduct and heroism of Taylor in this bloody conflict, and immediately promoted him to the brevet rank of brigadier general, and gave him the chief command of the war. On taking this command he fixed his head-quarters at Tampa Bay, and continued to prosecute what was termed “a war of movements,” with a vigor and enterprise which no ordinary energy of mind and body could have endured. The foe, after the lesson taught at Okeechobee, afforded him no subsequent opportunity of meeting them in a general battle; but in the prosecution of a contest peculiarly exhausting and dangerous, he manifested the rarer qualities of patience, vigilance, and unwearied promptitude and vigor which form so large a part in the character of a great military leader.
In 1840 he was relieved from duty in Florida, and in the following year was assigned to the command of the second department on the Arkansas, in which station he continued, performing his duties with characteristic diligence and success, until the difficulties with Mexico opened a new and more glorious career for the development of those powers matured by so long a career of arduous and devoted service.
In prospect of the annexation of Texas, Gen. Taylor received from the Department an order, dated 17th September, ordering him to hold the troops under his command in readiness to march into Texas, and repel any hostile incursion of Indians. An “Army of Observation” upon the south-western frontier having been determined upon, the Administration selected Gen. Taylor for that command. The relations of our country rendered it a post of great difficulty, requiring the highest qualities of civil and military intellect; and the choice of Gen. T. in preference to those of superior rank, was a distinguished evidence of the confidence of the Government. He was commanded to take a position between the Neuces and Rio Grande; and in August, 1845, established his camp at Corpus Christi. The army remained in this position until March 11th, 1846.
Having received positive orders to take a position upon the eastern bank of the Rio Grande, Gen. Taylor commenced his march. At the Rio Colorado he was met with a stern resistance, and assured that an attempt to cross would be followed by actual hostilities. It is scarcely necessary to add that he crossed, notwithstanding. On the 24th, Gen. Taylor left the advancing army, and, with a body of dragoons, repaired to Point Isabel, which place he occupied, and received, from steamboats opportunely arriving, supplies for the army. Gen. Taylor soon rejoined the army; a position was occupied opposite Matamoras, and the army proceeded to fortify their camp. On the 11th of April, Gen. Ampudia, in command at Matamoras, summoned Gen. Taylor to break up his camp, and retire beyond the Neuces within twenty-fours, adding that if he did not, arms alone must decide the question. In reply, Gen. Taylor informed him that his instructions would not permit him to retrograde from the position he occupied.
Col. Cross, of our army, having been murdered when absent, and alone, some distance from the camp, a party was, on the 17th, sent to discover and seize the murderers. They were set upon by a large party of Mexicans, and some of them killed. On the 19th, Gen. Taylor blockaded the Rio Grande, a measure which elicited an immediate protest from Ampudia; and it was vindicated by Taylor as the necessary result of the Mexican declaration of a determination to commence, and actually commencing, hostilities. The character of the two letters is in singular contrast, that of Gen. Taylor being high-toned and masterly, but moderate and courteous. A collision had, from the first movement to occupy the western bank of the Rio Grande, been inevitable; and every day precipitated that result. Addresses, over the signature of the Mexican general, were scattered throughout our camp, inviting desertion. The communications between Fort Brown and Point Isabel were forcibly interrupted by large bodies of the enemy. The war had begun. On the first of May Gen. Taylor took up his line of march for Point Isabel, leaving a small but sufficient force at Fort Brown. His departure was the signal for a furious but ineffectual attack, which resulted in the death of the gallant commander, Major Brown, and continued until the glorious return of Gen. Taylor.
The course of Gen. Taylor in this trying emergency has elicited the praise of the greatest surviving captain of the age—Wellington. The exigency was a fearful one. Surrounded by an enemy greatly superior in force, his supplies limited, and all communication cut off, he resolved, not on retreat—for he left his flag flying in face of the enemy—but on resuming his position. He reached Point Isabel, May the 3d, without interruption; and the Mexicans exulted in the division of his army—one portion at Fort Brown, and another at Point Isabel, and a superior force between them. Intelligence was received at this latter place of the successful resistance of Fort Brown, and the embodiment of vast masses of Mexican troops to oppose the return of Gen. Taylor. He waited for no reinforcements, although they were daily expected; he did not even take with him the untrained soldiers at Point Isabel—for the conflict was to be one in which the blenching of a single company might be ruin. On the 7th of May he moved forward, and the next day, about noon, at Palo Alto, he found the enemy. His force consisted of less than 2300 men—the enemy had in the field 6000 regular troops, the irregular force not known. He encountered the flower of the Mexican army, fully equipped, provided with ten pieces of artillery, and confident of victory.
Gen. Taylor paused a time, that his panting host might slake their thirst in the water of Palo Alto, and then moved on to the conflict. The enemy were drawn in line of battle, stretching a mile and a half across the plain—their resplendent lancers in advance on the left, and their overpowering masses of infantry, and batteries of artillery forming the rest of the line. On our side, Col. Twiggs commanded, with the 3d, 4th, and 5th infantry, and Ringgold’s artillery, on the right; Col. Belknap on the left, with the 8th, and Duncan’s artillery; and Lieutenant Churchill commanded the two eighteen pounders in the centre. The battle was almost wholly one of artillery—and never did artillery such service as ours that day. Ringgold opened with terrible effect; the gallant cavalry of the enemy fell as if smitten by lightning; yet they recovered, and making a sweep, threatened our rear, where they were met and repelled by the infantry in square. While Ringgold mowed his fatal harvest on the right, Duncan on the left poured volley upon volley into the reeling columns of the foe; and in the centre, the two eighteen pounders kept up a steady and staggering fire. Still the enemy, notwithstanding the obvious superiority of our artillery, maintained their fire with vigor, and urged the battle with determination. At length, as if to swell the horror of the scene, the prairie took fire, and for a time veiled the combatants from each other, and stayed the contest. When suddenly dashing, like incarnate spirits, through the flames, which rose ten feet high, Duncan and his men took position on the flank of the enemy, and opened with terrific effect, rolling back the ranks of the enemy, who recoiled in confusion. Assailed in front and flank, they retired into the chapparal; and thus night found the combatants—the victors encamping where they fought, amid the dying and the dead, with the promise of a bitterer and bloodier conflict for the morrow. That night the Mexicans retired to Resaca de la Palma. Their loss was two hundred killed and four hundred wounded; and ours was four men killed, three officers, and thirty-seven men wounded, several mortally, and among the latter, Major Ringgold and Capt. Page.
Gen. Taylor’s bearing in this battle was marked by every trait that ennobles a hero. But his victory had not relieved him from the danger that over-shadowed his little host. He had won glory, but not safety. Should he advance, it must be against an enemy overpowering in his superiority of numbers, and with an advantage of position. A council was held on the early morn of the next day. Its advice was against an advance; Gen. Taylor closed its deliberations by declaring that, if living, he would sleep that night in Fort Brown. The army advanced against the foe.
The next morning disclosed the retreat of the Mexicans. Reinforced by 2000 men, they had selected a position of great strength, with a ravine in front, guarded by a pond on one flank, and the chapparal on the other, defending their position with eight pieces of artillery, and with a vast superiority of force, they awaited the approach of the American army. Their expectations were not baffled. The field is known, and will be remembered as Resaca de la Palma.
The advance of our army was accompanied by every precaution, and at length the presence of the enemy was ascertained. The artillery of Lieut. Ridgely moved rapidly to the front and encountered that of the enemy. The infantry, meanwhile, pressed upon those on the right, and though met with resolution, succeeded in penetrating through the chapparal, and gaining his flank; while on the left a murderous fire was kept up by our advancing troops. But, in the centre, the enemy maintained a steady and destructive fire, from which Gen. Taylor, when entreated to do so, refused to retire. Lieut. Ridgely, unlimbering, advanced, from time to time, toward the enemy, discharging his canister at a distance of one hundred yards upon the foe. The Mexicans, however, with a well-directed fire, continued to sweep our lines. At this crisis Gen. Taylor ordered Capt. May to charge the battery with his dragoons. His words were, “Capt. May, you must take it.” That gallant officer, saying to his company, “Men, we must take it,” leapt to the charge. It was successful. With those who survived the discharge with which they were met, he swept through the enemy’s line, and was immediately followed and sustained by a fierce onslaught from the infantry at the point of the bayonet. The enemy’s centre was broken, and the fortune of the day decided. The flight of the Mexicans became general, and was soon hurried into panic by the ardor of the victors. Every thing was left to the conqueror; and rushing on in one confused mass, the Mexicans trampled down each other in the eagerness of fear. The victory was complete as it was wonderful. Never, in any field, was the omnipotence of heroism more signally displayed; and of those most calm, yet most ardent—in every chasm made by the swoop of the artillery—in every scene that demanded the cool, clear intellect, and the daring heart—the foremost was Taylor.