examining the body, I found several bullet holes in his pants, and one bullet hole through the sole of his boot, which must have been fired at him after he had fallen dead in the street.
What good was it to fire through the body of a dead man, or even wounded, if found alive? It would have been looked upon as murder to shoot a man after he was laying on the ground in agony.
After 5 o'clock, p.m., we buried him back of our Quartel San Jose, among the poplar trees. We could not bury him any sooner as the firing from the enemy's breastworks (now vacant), was so great and severe, that the moment a soldier got outside of his quarters he was fired upon and shot down.
His coffin, (which was made of rough boards, as no other could be obtained at this time), was placed on a cannon carriage and hauled to his grave and he was buried with all the honors of war.
He now sleeps where the soldier should sleep, on the field of his fame, where the poplar and the weeping willow kissing a passing rivulet, forms a gloomy canopy over his remains. Here he will rest beneath the clods of the valley, undisturbed, we hope, by the clamor of battles and the loud roar of the cannons and the rattling of musketry, until the last summons shall have gone forth to the nations of the earth, when the warrior and civilian will appear before the eternal throne.
Corp. William Eurick, hailed from Little York, Pa., he came with that little band, already mentioned, where he, with the rest of his comrades, left that little town of his birth, with enthusiasm and patriotic feeling.
As already stated, he met his fate while gallantly and bravely rushing at the Mexican breatworks, which, before, his death, was constantly annoying us; in doing which, he received his mortal wound through the heart, which almost caused instant death.
He was a genial, a brave soldier, and a beloved companion. Thus another flower is stricken down from our little band. Another one has left our company's ranks, and a hero,