Page:Notes of the Mexican war 1846-47-48.djvu/179

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To-day one of the regulars and one of Col. Harney's men died, and were buried this evening.

To-night the guard-house is full, and the cry is, "Still they come! All borracho!" (Drunk.)

Friday, May 28, 1847.—This morning there was a detail of five men from each company to go to Col. Wynkoop, and there report—for what we did not know, but the Sergeant Major said it was to go somewhere to sweep up and around the castle. This made the men rave and curse, telling Col. Wynkoop plainly that they would not sweep up the streets, as they did not enlist to sweep, and if the United States could not afford to hire its sweepers, they would pay it themselves out of their scanty means, sooner than to be slaves or scavengers. The Colonel sent them away laughing.

Saturday, May 29, 1847.—This morning two companies were called out to escort the Mexican prisoner, who was convicted for attempting to assassinate one of our artillerymen, to the main plaza of Perote. When we arrived at the plaza we found it crowded with greasers and some of the most notorious, cruel and remorseless ruffians in the country, and it was rumored that they would make a break through the guard and release their comrade in arms; but their courage failed them. Four muskets were stacked in the middle of the plaza, and the prisoner's hands and feet were tied up to them, and the drummer, called Yorkey, of Co. H, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, came forward with a strong rat-tan and gave him thirty lashes on his bare back. At first he did not seem to mind it much, taking it very easy, until he received about fifteen, when he began to get restless and bent double at every stroke, and groaned with the utmost shrieks. His back was literally cut open. He was to have sixty, but Adjutant Brown thought thirty was enough, and Yorkey, also being satisfied, as he was beginning to get tired lashing. He was afterwards relieved from his painful position, escorted back to the castle, and here to remain in confinement until the war is over. The doctor put something on his rare back to keep him from getting cold.