him, to bid him good-bye, he gave me a hearty shake with both of his trembling hands, and with tears in his eyes said "Good-bye, friend Jacob, you and I have had many a sociable and friendly talk together, and many a happy hour have we passed with pleasant enjoyment, but this I fear will be the last time you will ever see me alive." I told him to have no such fears, but to trust and hope, and all will be well; and to throw such fear from his mind. But all to no use. And whatever it was that troubled him so much about home, I will let the people of Elizabethtown explain.
He was a good and true hearted man, faithful and obedient and was well liked and esteemed by his comrades-in-arms. He did, or wished, no earthly being any harm, and I am fully convinced, that he died a true Christian, for he was deeply imbued with a religious sense of right. Thus the noble life is put out in the flower of its youth. He was a good companion, and I feel his loss with a sorrow which words cannot express. He fell beneath death's ruthless hand, a victim to that dreadful disease called "diarrhœa."
No Winter there. No shades of night,
Profane those mansions blest,
Here in these foreign fields of light
The weary are at rest.
No tombstone there to point out to the traveler passing by,
Whose ashes in those silent graves do lie.
Tuesday, May 25, 1847.—This morning after almorzar, (breakfast,) Gen. Twiggs' division and a large train consisting of over four hundred wagons and over two hundred pack mules, arrived in Perote city. Among them I noticed Col. Harney and his regiment of dragoons, and Capt. Samuel H. Walker, the Texan Ranger, with two companies of mounted riflemen, mounted on fine and spirited horses. They are all fine, strong, healthy and good looking men, nearly every one measured over six feet; they took up their quarters in the Castle Perote, and through their conversation I learn that they are to remain with us to keep the National Road open between
