came next; Lieutenant Colonel Duncan's battery was third; and the rest of the command followed. Two or three hundred yards or so from the Saltillo highway, at a turn round the mountain, some two hundred lancers could be seen approaching. It was a gallant sight. The horses, though small, showed plenty of spirit; many of the saddles were silver-mounted; the cavaliers wore brilliant uniforms, and green and red pennons fluttered gayly from their poised lances. At the head of the advance rode Lieutenant Colonel Nájera, a tall, fine-looking trooper with a fierce black mustache. Smith's corps and a part of the Texas riflemen were thrown behind a strong fence; Duncan halted and unlimbered; and then, like a whirlwind, Nájera struck McCulloch.[1]
The shock was terrible; and like a lion and a tiger grappling the two bodies writhed and fought. The weight of the American horses proved a great advantage, but numbers were on the other side. Nájera, after running a Texan through with his lance, fell; but a gallant successor took his place, and the soldiers proved worthy of him. Many lances were shivered, and others, useless at close quarters, were dropped; but sword and escopeta served instead. On our part Smith's infantry fired well, and the Mexicans could not break through the fence.[2]
After recoiling a little they formed to charge again. Other troops of Worth's came up, took post beside the road, and began work. A minute or two more and Duncan, on higher ground, was firing over the Americans. By this time Nájera's squadron was nearly accounted for; but behind it were the rest of Romero's cavalry brigade and a party of infantry. However, Mackall's battery was now cooperating with Duncan's and both did splendidly. The Mexican foot withdrew instead of advancing. A part of the cavalry soon retreated toward Saltillo and a part into the town; and the brief but important struggle ended. Probably more than one hundred Mexicans had been killed or wounded, while our own casualties appear to have numbered about a dozen, and the way to the Saltillo highway lay open. By a quarter past eight Worth's command was on this road; and he reflected with exultation that the Mexican line of communication, supply, reinforcement and retreat had been out. Nor was that all or even the best of it, he believed.
