march; the road was knee-deep with mud and water. After a very disagreeable march we arrived at our old quarters, Castle of Perote. The four companies belonging to our regiment, and who were stationed here, were taken to the Castle, and the other six companies took quarters in the town of Perote—the same quarters where Capt. Walker's company used to quarter their horses. It having rained hard all day, we were of course wet through and through, and had no chance to dry our clothing. It of course requires no further comento (comment) but to say that we passed a very uncomfortable night; otherwise, everything passed off quietly.
On our march to-day the scenery, under favorable weather, would, perhaps, be somewhat attractive, but a stormy, cloudy sky and a drizzling cold rain made it almost unattractive and unbearable.
Saturday, October 30, 1847.—This morning we got up very stiff with rheumatism and cold.
At noon a British courier came in the town of Perote, and reported that there is a large train on the National road, from the city of Mexico, under the command of Maj.-Gen. John A. Quitman.
In the afternoon I paid a visit to the Castle Perote, where I had spent many a weary hour, and here is (as a writer said), where I often thought of the home I had left behind me; here is where I arose from my bivouac many a morning, the moon sometimes tapering like a ball of fire, and shining with dim and baleful light, it sometimes seemed to be struggling downwards through the thick banks of smoky vapor that overhung and curtained the high ridges of mountains to the north-west of us; here is where I saw many a poor and gallant soldier die, and being wrapped up in his sabandigo manta (vermin blanket), was carried or hauled out and thrown into a hole dug for that purpose. These scenes I will not soon forget.
I was very much astonished to see the number of soldiers getting their discharges, some men too, who looked better in health and much stouter than when they left their native
