that one of our teamsters was frozen to death last night. Gen. Patterson now came riding by, saying, "Good morning, men; I suppose you all feel cold. We answered, "Yes, sir; and hungry, too" [Laughter], and he passed on, after which a mula, loaded with bananas, came along. We captured the fruit and divided it among the men, after which we left camp for Perote, saying, "We will not starve as long as we can get anything to eat."
We arrived in camp about 2 o'clock, p.m., and took up our quarters in the town of Perote, much fatigued, tired out and hungry, yet feeling rejoiced that we arrived safely.
In the evening the trains began to come in slowly, and some of the teamsters tell us that this has been one of the hardest and worst marches that they ever experienced in all Mexico, and there are some of these teamsters who have been driving for Uncle Sam through the Florida and Texan wars. Met with no accident except the frozen man.
History tells us that Friday is a regular red-letter day. Its calendars mark great events all along the centuries of American history. Columbus first set sail from Europe on Friday, first saw land on the continent on Friday, and on his way home returned on Friday; Conqueror Cortez first landed on the shores of Mexico on Friday; it was on Friday that the Mayflower first reached the shores of New England; it was on Friday that the pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock; it was on Friday, in the cabin of the vessel, that the first written constitution in our country—the form of our government—was signed; it was on Friday that the battle of Bunker Hill was fought; it was on Priday that Yorktown surrendered to our army; it was on Friday that I was born; it was on Friday that I first made up my mind to enlist in the United States army. So this Friday is heroic also.
Saturday, November 27, 1847.—This morning it is very cold, the ground has a light coat of snow, and the hills around here are covered with a good coat of the same. Mount Cofrades has a good share of it, making it very cold and chilly.
