itants of Matamoras had seen their army go forth to battle, confident that they should witness their return with the trophies of victory. The triumphal festival was in readiness, and wreaths and decorations prepared in honor of the deeds of gallantry and daring which
fancy pictured to their view. The tidings from Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma dissolved all their bright hopes and expectations, and filled their hearts with sadness and sorrow. Confusion and alarm usurped the places of merriment and festivity. Numbers of the citizens retired into the country with their effects, and those who were left behind awaited the capture of the city, which they anticipated with fear and anxiety, but were powerless to prevent.
Had General Taylor been supplied with the requisite means for crossing the river, his army might have bivouacked in the plaza of Matamoras, 0n the night after the battle at Resaca de la Palma. He had requested the government to furnish him with a ponton train several months previous, but this had been neglected, and he was therefore obliged to remain inactive for several days.
But the victories achieved by General Taylor and his army were not without their good results. Besides effecting the complete expulsion of the Mexican forces from the territory north of the Rio Grande, and convincing the world that American valor and intrepidity did not exist only in name, they served to remove many unfounded, but long-cherished prejudices, which existed at home, and to pave the way for the brilliant campaign that followed. The army had been looked upon by many as an unnecessary organization — the soldiers were said to be inefficient, and the officers better fitted to grace the salons of fashion and pleasure, than to
