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.