 45. Leave Mexico. Travelling Equipage. San Xavier. Fine Hacienda. Millionaires. Well-educated ladies, garden, etc. 49. Plana Pantla. Indian hut. Mrs. Ward. Doña Margarita. The pronunciamiento. False step. Santa Ana en Puebla. Neutrality. General Paredes. President in Plana Pantla. Tired troops. Their march. Their return. Curit's house. Murder. General Paredes in the Licheria. President in the Lana Pantla. A meeting. Return of the President and his troops. General Paredes and his men. Santa Ana in Tacobaya. A junction. President in Mexico. Allied sovereigns. Plan. Articles. President declares for federalism. Resigns. Results. Hostilities. Capitulation. Triumphal entry. Dead doom. New ministry. San Xavier. 16th September. After a morning of fatigue, confusion, bustle, leaf-taking, etc., etc., a coach with four mules procured with the utmost difficulty drove up to the door. The coach, old and crazy, the mules and harness quite consistent and the postillions so tipsy that they could hardly keep their seats. But we had no time to be particular and climbed in amidst bows and handshakeings and prophecies of breaking down and of being robbed by a band of four cats headed by a Spaniard who are said to be scouring the country, who are said to be for just now seeing his believing and few reports are worth attending to. However, we took two servants on horseback by way of escort and rattled off. The coach creaking ominously, the postillian swinging from side to side, and our worthy housekeeper whom we had carried off from the smoking city, screaming out her last orders to the Galopina concerning a certain green parrot which she had left in the charge of that tender-hearted damsel, who, with her reboso at her eyes surrounded by directors of the Mint, secretaries of legation, soldiers and porters had enough to do to take charge of herself. The city looked very sad as we drove through the streets with closed shops and barred windows and cannon planted and soldiers writing about. At every village we passed, the drivers called for Brandy, tossed off a glassful which appeared to act like a composing draught as they gradually recovered their equilibrium. We were glad to arrive at San Xavier, where we received a most cordial welcome and to be removed at least for a while from sights and sounds of destruction. A great part of the road to Plana Pandla, the village near which San Xavier is situated leads through traces of the ruins of the ancient Tenochtitlin. This part of the country is extremely pretty, being a corn and nutty mage district. Instead of the monotonous and stiff mage whose head never bends to the blast, we are surrounded by fields of waving corn. There are also plenty of trees, poplar, ash and elm, and one flourishing specimen of the latter species, which we see from the windows in front of the house, was brought here by Mr. Poinsett. The Hacienda, which is about three leagues from Mexico, is a large, irregular building in rather a low situation, surrounded by dark blue hills. It belongs to the señoras de FE of the family of the Marquidi AO, millionaires, being rich in Haciendas and silver mines, very religious, very charitable, and what is less common here, extremely learned, understanding French, English, German, and even Latin. Their education they owe to the care of their father, one of the most distinguished men in Mexico, who was banished twice, once for liberal opinions, and the second time for supporting the plan of Iguala, in fact for not being liberal enough. In this emigration his family accompanied him, traveled over a great part of Europe and profited by their opportunities. They returned here when the independence was accomplished, hoping for peace, but in vain. Constant alarms and perpetual revolutions have succeeded one another ever since that period. Hacienda has the usual quantum of furniture belonging to these country houses, and it is certainly no longer a matter of surprise to us that rich proprietors take little interest in embellishing them. A house which will in all probability be converted once a year into a barrack is decidedly better in a state of nature than encumbered with elegant furniture. This house has been entirely destroyed in that way more than once, and the last time that it was occupied by troops was left like an Augean stable. We have here the luxury of books. My room opens into a beautiful chapel covered with paintings representing saints and virgins, holding lilies where mass is set occasionally, though the family generally attend mass in the village church of Tlana Pantla. Before the house is a small flower garden filled with roses and peculiarly fine dahlias, pomegranate trees and violets which, though single, have a delicious fragrance. This stretches out into an immense vegetable garden and orchard, terminating in a shrubbery through which walks are cut impervious to the sun at noonday. There is also a large reservoir of water, and the garden which covers a great space of ground is kept in good order. There are beautiful walks in the neighborhood leading to Indian villages, old churches, and farms, and all the lanes are bordered with fruit trees. Tlana Pantla, which means in Indian, between lands, its church having been built by the Indians of two districts, is a small village with an old church ruined remains of a convent where the curate now lives, a few shops and a square where the Indians hold market, Tangies they call it, on Fridays. All along the lanes are small Indian huts with their usual mud floor, small altar, earthen vessels, and collection of dobs on the walls, especially the virgin of Guadalupe, with a few blessed palm leaves in the corner occupied when the men are at work by the Indian woman herself, her sturdy scantily clothed progeny and plenty of yelping dogs. Mrs. Ward's sketch of the interior of an Indian hut is perfect as all her Mahikan sketches are. When the women are also out at their work they are frequently tenanted by the little children alone. Taking refuge from a shower of rain yesterday in one of these mud huts, we found no one there but a little bronze-colored child, about three years old sleeping all alone on the floor with the door wide open, and though we talked loud and walked about in the cottage, the little thing never wakened. A second shower drove us for shelter to a farmhouse, where we entered a sort of oratorio attached to the house, a room which is not consecrated but has an altar, crucifix, holy pictures, etc. The floor was strewed with flowers and in one corner was an old stringless, violin cello that might have formed a pendant to the harp of Tara. However, the most remarkable object of the rancho is its proprietress, a tall noble-looking Indian, Donya Margarita by name, a mountaineer by birth, and now a rich widow possessing lands and flocks, though living in apparent poverty. The bulk of her fortune she employs in educating poor orphans. Every poor child who has no parents finds in her a mother and protectress the more wretched or sick or deformed the more certain of an asylum with her. She takes them into her house, brings them up as her own children, has them bred to some useful employment, and when they are old enough, married. If it is a boy she chooses him a wife from amongst the girls of the mountains, where she was born, who she says are less corrupted than the girls of the village. She has generally from twelve to twenty on her hands, always filling up with new orphans the vacancies caused in her small colony by death or marriage. There is nothing picturesque about these orphans for, as I said before, the most deformed and helpless and maimed and sick are the peculiar objects of Donya Margarita's care. Nevertheless, we saw various healthy happy-looking girls visit in various ways, washing and ironing and sewing whose very eyes gleamed when we mentioned her name and who spoke of her with a respect and affection that it was pleasant to witness. Truly this woman is entitled to happy dreams and soft slumbers. The remainder of her fortune she employs in the festivals and ceremonies of the church, in fireworks, in ornaments for the altars, etc. 9. Every day a messenger arrives from Mexico bringing news of the pronunciamiento which are eagerly awaited for and read with intense interest. It is probable now that affairs will soon come to a crisis. A step has been taken by the president which is considered very imprudent by those who are looking on in this great game. General Torejon, who with 900 good soldiers kept Santa Ana in awe at Perote, has been sent forward to Mexico, Bustamante wishing to reunite his forces. These troops together with those of Codayos, the governor of Puebla, brings up his army to 3,500 or some say to 4,000 men, all effective of which 900 are good cavalry. Bustamante being now at the head of the army, Hechavaria exercises the executive power according to the constitution in his capacity of president of the Council of State, on Sejo de Estado, the Mexicans having no vice president. Santa Ana, who had until now remained in Perote with his unorganized troops, no officers on whom he could depend and a handful of miserable cavalry, has moved forward to Puebla. Arrived there his numbers were increased by 100 men of the Tobacco Customs brought him by Senor Blanc, who with a rich Spanish banker went out to meet him, 40 horsemen seduced from the escort of Codayos, and a company of watchmen. As yet no movement has taken place or seems likely to take place in his favor in Puebla. Senor Haro is named governor of that city in the place of Codayos, who was sent forward to join the president in Mexico, and Puebla, which used to be the great theater of revolutions, has remained on this occasion in the most perfect neutrality, neither declaring for one party nor the other probably the wisest course to pursue at this juncture. Everyone is of opinion that 500 troops sent by Bustamante would instantly put this mongrel army of Santa Ana's to flight, for though he has collected about a thousand men, he has not three hundred good soldiers. On the other hand, General Paredes is marching in this direction with General Cortazar, his orders from Santa Ana no doubt being to keep the president in play, and to divert his attention by treaties or preliminaries of treaties, whilst he continues to march with caution towards the capital. The great event to be dreaded by the government is a junction of the pronunciado forces. As long as they are separated is in no immediate danger, but like the bundle of rods what can easily be broken separately will assume strength when joined together. I make no further excuse for talking about politics, we talk and think of little else. 21. Yesterday, Sunday, we were startled by the intelligence that General Canaliso and Orega had arrived at the village in the middle of the night with a large troop and that General Bustamante himself had made his appearance there at five in the morning, so that the peaceful little Delana Pantela had suddenly assumed a warlike appearance. 22. As it lies on the direct road to Guanajuato, there could be no doubt that they were marching to meet Paredes. C. N. immediately walked down to the village to pay his respects to the president, who was lodged at the curates and meanwhile General Norega came to the hacienda to see the ladies. C. N. found the president very much fatigued, having passed fourteen days and nights under arms and in constant anxiety, General Orpegozo was with him. 23. After breakfast we went down to the village to see the troops who were resting there for a few hours. The cavalry occupied the square, the horses standing and the men stretched asleep on the ground, each soldier beside his horse. The infantry occupied the churchyard. Dreadfully fatigued they were lying some on the grass and others with their heads pillowed on the old tombstones, resting as well as they could with their armor on. 24. Before they started the curates said master them in the square. There was a good deal of difficulty in procuring the most common food for so many hungry men. Tortillas had been baked in haste and all the hens in the village were put in requisition to obtain eggs for the president and his officers. We sat down in a porch to see them set off, a melancholy sight enough, in spite of drums beating and trumpets sounding. An old soldier who came up to water his own and his master's horse began to talk to us of what was going on and seemed anything but enthusiastic at the prospects of himself and his comrades, assuring us that the army of Henedal Paredes was double their number. He was covered with wounds received in the war against Texas and expressed his firm conviction that we should see the Comanche Indians on the streets of Mexico one of these days, at which savage tribe he appeared to have a most devout horror, describing to a gaping audience the manner in which he had seen a party of them devour three of their prisoners. About four o'clock the signal for departure was sounded and they went off amidst the cheers of the people. 22. Great curiosity was excited yesterday afternoon when news was brought us at Bustamante, with his generals and troops had returned and had passed through the village on their way back to Mexico. Some say that this retrograde march is in consequence of a movement made in Mexico by Henedal Valencia, others that it has been caused by a message received from Henedal Paredes. We paid a visit in the evening to the old curate who was pretty much in the dark, morally and figuratively in a very large hall, where were assembled a number of females in one tallow candle. Of course all were talking politics and especially discoursing of the visit of the president the preceding night, and of his departure in the morning, and of his return in the afternoon, and of the difficulty of procuring tortillas for the men and eggs for the officers. 23. We have received news this morning of the murder of our porter, the Spaniard whom we had brought from Havana. He had left us and was employed as porter in a fabrika, manufacturing, where the wife and family the proprietor resided. Eight of Henedal Valencia's soldiers sailed forth from the citadel to rob this factory, and poor Jose, the most faithful and honest of servants, having valiantly defended the door was cruelly murdered. The afterwards entered the building, robbed and committed dreadful outages. They were our selling printed papers through the streets today giving an account of it. The men are taken up and it is said will be shot by orders of the general, but we doubt this, even though a message has arrived requiring the attendance of the padre who confesses criminals, a Franciscan monk who with various of his brethren are living here for safety at present. The situation of Mexico is melancholy. 24. News have arrived that Henedal Paredes has arrived at the Lacheria, and Hacienda belonging to this family about three leagues from San Xavier, and that from thence he sent one of the servants of the farm to Mexico, inviting the president to a personal conference. The family take this news of their Haciendas being turned into military quarters very philosophically. The only precaution on these occasions being to conceal the best horses, as the pronunciados help themselves without ceremony, to these useful quadrupeds wherever they are to be found. 26. This morning Henedal Bustamante and his troops arrived at the Lana Pantla, the president in a coach. Having met Sien on the road, he stopped for a few moments and informed him that he was on his way to meet Henedal Paredes at the Lacheria, where he hoped to come to a composition with him. We listened all day with anxiety, but hearing no firing concluded that some arrangement had in fact been made. In the evening we walked out on the high road and met the president, the governor, and the troops all returning. What securities Bustamante can have received no one can imagine, but it is certain that they have met without striking a blow. It was nearly dusk as they passed and the president bowed cheerfully while some of the officers rode up and assured us that all was settled. 27. Cavalry infantry, carriages, cannon, etc. are all passing through the village. These are the Prenunciados with Henedal Paredes following to Mexico. Feminine curiosity induces me to stop here and to join the party who are going down to the village to see them pass. We have just returned after a sunny walk and an inspection of the Prenunciados. They are too near Mexico now for me to venture to call them the rebels. The infantry, it must be confessed, was in a very ragged and rather drunken condition. The cavalry better, having borrowed fresh horses as they went along. Those certainly not point-device in their accoutrements, their good horses, high saddles, bronze faces, and picturesque attire had a fine effect as they passed along under the burning sun. The sick followed on asses and amongst them various masculine women with sarapes or manhas and large straw hats tied down with coloured handkerchiefs mounted on mules or horses. The Sumter mules followed carrying provisions, camp beds, etc. and various Indian women trotted on foot in the rear carrying their husbands boots and clothes. There was certainly no beauty amongst these feminine followers of the camp, especially amongst the mounted Amazons, who looked like very ugly men in a semi-female disguise. The whole party are on their way to Takubaya to join Santa Ana. The game is nearly up now. Check from two knights and a castle from Santa Ana and Paredes in Takubaya and from Valencia in the citadel. People are flying in all directions, some from Mexico and others from Guadalupe in Takubaya. It appears that Santa Ana was marching from Puebla, feeling his way towards the capital in fear and trembling. At Río Frío, a sentinel's gun having accidentally gone off, the whole army were thrown into the most ludicrous consternation and confusion. Near Oyotla, the general's brow cleared up for here he was met by commissioners from the government, generals Orpigoso and Guyami. In a moment, the quick apprehension of Santa Ana saw that the day was his own. He gave orders to continue the march with all speed to Takubaya, affecting to listen to the proposals of commissioners, amusing them without compromising himself and offering to treat with them, at Mecalcino. They returned without having received any decided answer and without, on their part, having given any assurance that his march should not be stopped, yet he has been permitted to arrive un molested at Takubaya, where Paredes has also arrived and where he has been joined by General Valencia, so that the three pronunciado generals are now united there to dispose of the fate of the Republic. The same day, General Almonte had an interview with Santa Ana who said with a smile when he left him, Es buen muchacho, he is a good lad, he may be of service to us yet. The three allied sovereigns are now in the Archbishop's Palace at Takubaya, from whence they are to dictate to the President and the Nation, but they are in fact chiefly occupied with their respective engagements and respective rights. Paredes wishes to fulfill his engagements with the departments of Guanhuato, Jalisco, Zacatecas, Aguas Calientes, Queretaro, etc. In his plan he promised them religious toleration, permission for foreigners to hold property, and so on, the last in fact being his favorite project. Valencia on his side has his engagements to fulfill with the Federalists and has proposed Señor Padrasa as an integral part of their regeneration, one whose name will give confidence now and ever to his party. General Santa Ana has engagements with himself. He has determined to command them all and allows them to fight amongst themselves, provided he governs. Paredes is in fact furious with Valencia, accusing him of having interfered when not wanted and of having ruined his plan by mingling it with a revolution with which it had no concern. He does not reflect that Valencia was the person who gave the mortal wound to the government. Had he not revolted Santa Ana would not have left Perote nor Paredes himself passed on, unmolested. The conservative body has been invited to go to Takubaya but has refused. The majority desire the election of Paredes or of any one who is not Santa Ana or Valencia. But Paredes himself while drawing no very flattering portrait of Santa Ana declares that he is the only man in the Republic fit for the presidency, the only man who can make himself obeyed. In short, the only one capable of taking those energetic measures which the safety of the Republic requires. He flatters himself that he, at the head of his division, will always keep Santa Ana in check, as if Cortazar, who deserted Postamante in a moment of difficulty, could be depended on. Meanwhile, they are fortifying Mexico and some suppose that Postamante and his generals had taken the rash determination of permitting all their enemies to unite in order to destroy them at one blow. 29. There being at present an armistice between the contending parties a document was published yesterday, fruits of the discussion of the allied powers at Takubaya. It is called Las Pazes de Takubaya and being published in Mexico by General Almonte, many expected and hoped that a new pronunciamiento would be the consequence. But it has been quietly received and the Federalists welcome it as containing the foundations of federalism and popularity. There are thirteen articles which are as follow. By the first, it is the will of the nation that the supreme powers established by the Constitution of 36 have ceased accepting the judicial which will be limited in its functions to matters purely judicial, conformably to the existing laws. By the second, a junta is to be named composed of two deputies from each department elected by his Excellency the Commander-in-Chief of the Mexican Army, Don Antonio Lopez de Santana in order that they may be entirely free to point out the person who is to hold executive power provisionally. By the third, this person is immediately to assume the executive power taking an oath in the presence of the junta to set for the welfare of the nation. By the fourth, the provisional executive power shall in two months convoke a new Congress which with ample powers shall engage to reconstitute the nation as appears most suitable to them. By the fifth, this Congress extraordinary shall reunite in six months after it is convened and shall solely occupy itself in forming the Constitution. By the sixth, the provisional executive shall answer for its acts before the first constitutional Congress. By the seventh, the provisional executive shall have all the powers necessary for the organization of all the branches of the public administration. By the eighth, four ministers shall be named of foreign and home relations of public instruction and industry of treasury and of war and a marine. By the ninth, each department is to have two trustworthy individuals to form a council which shall give judgment in all matters on which they may be consulted by the executive. By the tenth, till this council is named, the junta will fulfill its functions. By the eleventh, till the republic is organized, the authorities in the departments which have not opposed and will not oppose the national will shall continue. By the twelfth, the general in chief and all the other Henerals promise to forget all the political conduct of military men or citizens during the present crisis. By the thirteenth, when three days have passed after the expiration of the present truce, if the Heneral in chief of the government does not adopt these bases, their accomplishment will be proceeded with and they declare in the name of the nation that this general and all the troops who follow him and all the so-called authorities which counteract this national will shall be held responsible for all the makin' blood that may be uselessly shed and which shall be upon their heads. Thirtieth. To the astonishment of all parties, Bustamante and his general is pronounced. Yesterday morning for the federal system and this morning Bustamante has resigned the presidency. His motives seem not to be understood unless a circular published by Heneral Almonte can throw any light upon them. Without making any commentary, he says, speaking of the document of Dakubaya, upon this impudent document which proposes to the mehican nation a military government and the most ominous of dictatorships in favor of the false defender of public liberty, of the most ferocious enemy of every government that has existed in the country, I hasten to send it to you that you may have it published in this state where surely it will excite the same indignation as in an immense majority of the inhabitants of the capital who, jealous of the national glory and decided to lose everything in order to preserve it, have spontaneously proclaimed the re-establishment of the federal system, the whole garrison having followed this impulse. There is no medium between liberty and tyranny and the government relying on the good sense of the nation which will not see within difference a slavery that is preparing for it puts itself in the hands of the states resolved to sacrifice itself on the altars of the country or to strengthen its liberty forever. I enclose the renunciation which his excellency Don Anastasio Bustamante makes to the presidency, etc. 3rd October. Though a very democratic crowd collected and federalism was proclaimed in Mexico, it appears that no confidence in the government was inspired by this last measure. Some say that had Bustamante alone declared for the federal system and had sent some effective cavalry to protect the pronunciados of that party all through the country he might have triumphed still. Be that as it may, General Canaliso pronounced for federalism on the 2nd of October, but this is not followed up on the part of the generals Bustamante and Almonte. While the vice president Hechavaria has retired to his house, blaming Almonte for having published an official document without his knowledge. Everything is in a state of perfect anarchy and confusion. The Leperos are going about armed and no one remains in Mexico but those who are obliged to do so. It is said that in Takubaya great uneasiness prevailed as to the result of this new movement and Santa Ana offered an asylum there to the Congress and conservative body, although by the ultimatum from Takubaya, published on the 28th, the constitution of 36 was concluded and of course these authorities were politically dead. I had hardly written these words when the roaring of Canon announced that hostilities have recommenced. Fifth. For the last few days we have been listening to the Canon and even at this distance, the noise reverberating amongst the hills is tremendous. The sound is horrible. There is something appalling and humbling in these manifestations of man's wrath and man's power when he seems to usurp his maker's attributes and to mimic his thunder. The divine spark kindled within him has taught him how to draw these metals from the earth's bosom, how to combine these simple materials so as to produce with them and effect as terrible as the thunder bolts of heaven. His earthly passions have prompted him so to wield these instruments of destruction as to deface God's image in his fellow men. The power is so divine, the causes that impel him to use that power are so paltry. The intellect that creates these messengers of death is so near akin to divinity, the motives that put them in action are so poor, so degrading, even to humanity. On the third there was a shower of bombs and shells from the citadel, of which some fell into the palace and won in our late residence, the Mint. An engagement took place in the Virga, and the Bustamantes party were partially victorious at his said that neither has much reason to boast of the result. General Espinoza, an old insurgent, arrived at the village last night and sent to request some horses from the Hacienda, which were sent him with all convenient speed, that he might not, according to his usual plan, come and take them. In exchange for some half-dozen farm horses in good condition, he sent half a dozen lean, wretched-looking quadrupeds, the bones coming through their skin, skeletons fit for dissection. News have just arrived to the effect that last night at three o'clock Bustamantes suddenly left the city, drawing off all his troops from the turrets and leaving General Orpigoso in the palace, with one hundred men. It was generally reported that he had marched into the interior to bring about a federal revolution, but it appears that he has arrived at Guadalupe and there taking up his quarters. A loud cannonading has been kept up since ten o'clock, which keeps us all idle, looking out for the smoke and counting the number of these charges. Sixth. A messenger has brought the intelligence that there had been more noise and smoke than slaughter, the cannons being planted at such distances that it was impossible they could do much execution. Numerous bulletins are distributed, some violently in favor of Bustamante and federalism, full of abuse and dread of Santa Anna, others lauding that general to the skies as a savior of his country. The allied forces being in numbers double those of Bustamante. There is little doubt of the result. Seventh. A capitulation. Santa Anna is triumphant. He made his solemn entry into Mexico last evening, Generals Valencia and Canaliso being at the head of the United Forces. Not a solitary viva was heard as they passed along the streets, nor afterwards during his speech in Congress. Tedeum was sung this morning in the Cathedral, the Archbishop in person receiving the new President. We have just returned from Mexico where we went in search of apartments and with great difficulty have found rooms in the hotel of the Calle Vegara, but we shall remain here a day or two longer. There is no great difference in the general appearance of the city except that the shops are reopened and that most of the windows are broken. Immediately after the morning ceremony Santa Anna returned to the Archbishop's Palace at Takubaya which residence he prefers to the President's Palace in Mexico. His return there after his triumphant entry into the capital was very much Enrio, a retinue of splendid coaches with fine horses going at full speed. The Generals carriage drawn by four beautiful white horses belonging to Don F.M. The very same that were sent to bring us into Mexico. Brilliant aids to camp and an immense escort of cavalry. Thus concludes the revolution of 1842, though not its effects. The new ministry up to this date are Senor Gomez Padrasa for Foreign and Home Relations Castillo on Petit Avocat from Guadalajara said to be a furious Federalist and Latin scholar for public instruction, General Tornell for War and Marine, and Senor Dufo for the Treasury. Valencia proposed Paredes for the War Department but he declined saying, no, no, General, I understand you very well. You want to draw me from off my division. Those who know Bustamante best, even those who most blame him for indecision and want of energy, agree on one point. That the true motives of his conduct are to be found in his constant and earnest desire to spare human life. End of Letter the 45th. Letter the 46th of Life in Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life in Mexico by Francis Calderón de la Barca. Letter the 46th. Santa Monica. Solidity. Old paintings. Anachronism. Babies and Nurses from the Cunha. Society. Funds. Plan. Indian Nurses. Carmelite Convent. Midnight Warning. Old Villages and Churches. Indian Bath. San Mateo. The Lecheria. Fertility. Nolino Viejo. Downness. Religious Exercises. Return to Mexico. Mexican Hotel. New Generals. Disturbances. General Bustamante. Inconvenience. Abuses in the name of Liberty. Versus. Independence Celebrated. Eighth. The revolution is lasted upwards of 35 days and during that time, though I have written of little elves, we have been taking many rides in the environs of this hacienda, some of which were very interesting. We are also making the most of our last few days of Mexican country life. On Thursday we went on horseback with a large party to visit the Mill of Santa Monica, an immense hacienda, which tradition I know not with what truth supposes to have been in former days the property of Donia Marina, a gift to her from Cortés. At all events at a later period it belonged to the Augustine monks, then to a Mexican family who lost their fortune from neglect or extravagance. It was bought by the present proprietor for a comparatively trifling sum and produces him an annual rent of $35,000 upon an average. The house is colossal and not more than one-third of it occupied. The granaries of solid masonry contain 14,000 loads of corn. They were built about 250 years ago. From all the neighboring haciendas and even from many distant estates the corn is sent to this mill and is here ground, deposited and sold on account of the owner, a certain portion deducted for the proprietor of Santa Monica. It seems strange that they should have no windmills here in a country colonized by Spain where, according to Cervantes, they were common enough. The house is in a commanding situation and the views of the mountains, especially from the upper windows, are very grand. In some of the old unoccupied apartments are some good copies of old paintings, the copies themselves of ancient date. There is the angel announcing to Elizabeth the birth of Saint John, a holy family from Murillo, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, which is one of the best, particularly the figures in the foreground of Lot and his family. Lot's wife stands in the distance, a graceful figure just crystallized, her head turned in the direction of the doomed city. I looked into every dark corner in hopes of finding some old dog representing Donia Marina, but without success. There is the strangest contrast possible between these half-abandoned palaces and their actual proprietors. We had beautiful riding horses belonging to the hacienda and enjoyed everything but the exceeding heat of the sun as we galloped home about one o'clock. As a specimen of rather remarkable anachronism, we were told that a justice in the village of Delnana Plantla, speaking the other day of General Bustamante, said, Poor man, he is persecuted by all parties, just as Jesus Christ was by the Jesenites, the Sadducees and the Holy Fathers of the Church. What a curious oya, Podrita, the poor man's brain must be. In the midst of the revolution we were amused by a very peaceful sight, all the nurses belonging to the cuna or foundling hospital coming from the different villages to receive their monthly wages. Amongst the many charitable institutions of Mexico, there appears to me, in spite of the many prejudices existing against such institutions, none more useful than this. These otherwise unfortunate children, the offspring of abject poverty or guilt, are left at the gate of the establishment where they are received without any questions being asked, and from that moment they are protected and cared for by the best and noblest families in the country. The members of the society consist of the first persons in Mexico, male and female. The men furnish the money, the women give their time and attention. There is no fixed number of members, and amongst them are the ladies in whose house we now live. The president is the dowager Marquesa de Vivanco. When the child has been about a month in the cuna, it is sent with an Indian nurse to one of the villages near Mexico. If sick or feeble, it remains in the house, under the more immediate inspection of the society. These nurses have a fiadora, a responsible person who lives in the village and answers for their good conduct. Each nurse is paid four dollars per month, a sufficient sum to induce any poor Indian with a family to add one to her stock. Each lady of the society has a certain number under her peculiar care and gives their clothes which are poor enough but according to the village fashion. The child thus put out to nurse is brought back to the cuna when weaned and remains under the charge of the society for life. But of the hundreds and tens of hundreds that have passed through their hands scarcely has one been left to grow up in the cuna. They are constantly adopted by respectable persons who, according to their inclination or abilities, bring them up either as favored servants or as their own children. And the condition of a huerfano, an orphan as a child from the hospital is always called, is perfectly upon a level with that of the most petted child of the house. The nurses in the cuna are paid eight dollars per month. Upwards of a hundred nurses and babies arrived on Sunday taking up their station on the grass under the shade of a large ash tree in the courtyard. The nurses are invariably bronze, the babies generally dark, though there was a sprinkling of fair English or German faces amongst them with blue eyes and blonde hair, apparently not the growth of mehican land. Great attention to cleanliness cannot be hoped for from this class, for the babies looked healthy and contented. Each nurse had to present a paper which had been given her for that purpose, containing her own name, the name of the child and that of the lady under whose particular charge she was, such as Maria Josefa, baby Juanita de los Santos, belonging to the senora doña Matilde F., given on such a day to the charge of Maria Josefa. Constantly the nurse had lost this paper and impossible for her to remember more than her own name as to who gave her the baby or when she got it was entirely beyond her powers of calculation. However, then stepped forward the fiadora, doña Tomasso, a sensible-looking village dame, grave and important as became her situation, and gave an account of the nurse and the baby, which being satisfactory, the copper was swept into the nurse's lap and she and her baby went away contented. It was pleasant to see the kindness of the ladies to these poor women, how they praised the care that had been taken of the babies, admired the strong and healthy ones, which indeed nearly all were, took an interest in those who looked paler or less robust, and how fond and proud the nurses were of their charges, and how little of a hired mercenary, hospital feeling existed among them all. A judge in the village who comes here frequently, a pleasant and well-informed man, amused us this evening by recounting to us how he had once formed a determination to become a monk, through sudden fear. Being sent by government to Toluca some years ago to inquire into the private political conduct of a Yorkino, he found that his only means of remaining there unsuspected, and also of obtaining information, was to lodge in the convent of the Carmelite Friars. The Padres accommodated him with a cell, and assisted him very efficaciously in his researches. But the first night, being alone in his cell, the convent large and dreary, and the wind howling lugubriously over the plains, he was awakened at night by a deep sepulchral voice, apparently close to his ear tolling forth these words. Hermanos en el sepulcro a caba, todo lo que el mundo alabá. My brother's almost finished in the tomb of all that men extoll, this is the doom. Exceedingly startled he sprang up and opened the door of his cell. A dim lamp faintly eliminated the long vaulted galleries in the monks, like shadows were gliding to midnight prayer. In the dreariness of the night, with a solemn words, sounding in his ear like a warning knell, he came to the satisfactory conclusion, that all was vanity, and to the determination that the very next day he would retire from the world, join this holy brotherhood and bind himself to be a carmelite friar for life. The day brought counsel, the cheerful sunbeams dispel the gloom, even within the old convent, and his scruples of conscience melted away. There are old villages and old churches in this neighborhood that would delight an antiquary. In the churchyard of the village of San Andrés is the most beautiful whipping ash I ever saw. We took shelter from the sun yesterday under its gigantic shadow, and lay there as under a green vault. We saw today, near another solitary old church, one of the Indian oven baths, the Temazkalis, built of bricks in which there is neither alteration, nor improvement since their first invention, heaven alone knows in what century. 9. We rode last evening to another estate belonging to this family called San Mateo, one of the prettiest places on a small scale we have seen here. The road or rather path led us through fields covered with the greatest profusion of bright yellow sunflowers and scarlet dahlias so tall that they came up to our horse's ears. The house is built in the cottage style, the first specimen of that style we have seen here, with a piazza in front, large trees shading it and a beautiful view from the height on which it stands. It has rather an English than a Spanish look. No one lives there but the agent and his wife and a fierce dog. 11. This morning we rose at five, mounted our horses and accompanied by Senor E., together with the administrator and the old gardener, set off to take our last long ride from San Xavier. For this evening we returned to Mexico. The morning was fine and fresh, the very morning for a gallop and the country looked beautiful. We rode first to the Lecheria, where Generals Bustamante and Paredes had their last eventful conference, having passed on our way, various old churches and villages and another hacienda, also belonging to this family, whose estates seem countless. Lecheria is a large unoccupied house or occupied only by the administrator and his family. It is a fine building and its courtyard within is filled with flowers, but having neither garden nor trees near it seems rather lonely, and must have been startled to find itself the rendezvous of contending chieftains. It is surrounded by fertile and profitable fields of corn and maize. We stayed but a short time in the house and having observed, with due respect, the chamber where the Generals conferred together, remounted our horses and rode on. I have no doubt, by the way, that their meeting was the most amicable imaginable. I never saw a country where opponent parties bear so little real ill will to each other. It all seems to evaporate in words. I do not believe that there is any real bad feeling subsisting at this moment, even between the two rival Generals Bustamante and Santa Ana. Santa Ana usurped the presidency partly because he wanted it and partly because if he had not, someone else would, but I am convinced that if they met by chance in a drawing-room, they would give each other as cordial and embrazo, embrace, making fashion as if nothing had happened. Our road led us through a beautiful track of country, all belonging to the Leceria, through pathways that skirted the fields where the plough had newly turned up the richest possible soil, and which re-boarded by wild flowers and shady trees. For miles our path lay through a thick carpeting of the most beautiful wild flowers imaginable. Bright scarlet talias, gaudy sunflowers together with purple and lilac and pale straw-colored blossoms, to all which the gardener gave but the general name of Mirasolis sunflower. The purple convulvulus threw its creeping branches on the ground, or along whatever it could embrace, while all these bright flowers, some growing to a great height, seemed as we rode by them, to be flaunting past us in their gay colors, like peasants in their holiday dresses. The ground also was enamored with a little low inquisitive-looking blossom, bright yellow with a peeping brown eye, and the whole, besides forming the gayest assemblage of colors and groups, gave to the air a delicious fragrance. But at last we left these fertile grounds and began to ascend the hills, part of which a forward pasture for the flocks, till still higher up they become perfectly arid in stony. Here the whole landscape looks bleak and dreary, accepting that the eye can rest upon the distant mountains, of a beautiful blue, like a peep of the promised land from Mount Nebo. After having rode four leagues the latter part over the sterile ground, affording but an insecure footing for our horses, we described, low down in a valley, an old, sad-looking building, with a ruined mill and some trees. This was the object of our ride, the Amolino Viejo, old mill, another hacienda belonging to these rich lady proprietors, and profitable on account of the fine pasture which some of the surrounding hills afford. Nothing could look more solitary. Magdalene might have left her desert and ended her days there without materially bettering her situation. The only sign of life is a stream that runs round a very productive small orchard in front of the house, while on a hill behind are a few magae plants, and on the mirador in front of the house. Some creepers have been trained with a good deal of taste. There are bleak hills in front, hills with a scanty, herbage behind it, and everywhere a stillness that makes itself felt, while strange circumstance in this country. There is not even a church within a league and a half. There has been a chapel in the house, but the gilded paintings are falling from the walls. The altar is broken and the floor covered with dried corn. The agent's wife, who sits here all alone, must have time to collect her scattered thoughts and plenty of opportunity for reflection and self-examination. Certain it is, she gave us a very good breakfast which we attacked like famished pilgrims, and shortly after took our leave. The heat on the shadeless hills had now become intense. It is only on such occasions that one can fully appreciate the sufferings of Regulus. We returned by the carriage-road a track between two hills, composed of ruts and stones and large holes. On the most barren parts of these hills there springs a tree which the Indians call kusakil. It resembles a savun, and produces a berry of which ink is made. The road is bordered by bushes covered with white blossoms, very fragrant. We galloped as fast as our horses would carry us to escape from the sun and passed a pretty village on the high road, which is a fine broad causeway in good repair, leading to Guanaxuato. We also passed San Mateo and then rode over the fields, fast home, where we arrived, looking like broiled potatoes. We had a conversation with Blanc this morning on the subject of the eresicios, certain religious exercises to which, in Mexico, men as well as women annually devote a certain number of days, during which they retire from the world to a religious house or convent, set apart for that purpose of which some receive male and other female devotees. Here they fast and pray and receive religious instruction and meditate upon religious subjects during the period of their retreat. A respectable merchant, who, in compliance with his custom, lately retired for a few days to one of these religious establishments, wrote, on entering there to his head clerk a young man to whom he was much attached, informing him that he had a presentiment that he would not leave the convent alive, but would die by the time his devotional exercises were completed, giving him some good advice as to his future conduct. Together with his last instructions as to his own affairs, he ended with these words hasta la eternidad, until eternity. The latter produced a strong effect on the mind of the young man, but still more when the merchant died at the end of a few days as he had predicted and was scared from the convent to his grave. Mexico, Calla Vergara, 12th. We reached Mexico last evening and took up our quarters in an inn or hotel kept by an English woman and tolerably clean, though of course not very agreeable. A number of pronunciado officers are also here, amongst others Henedal Blanc, who I hope will be obliged to go soon that we may have his parlor, a mysterious English couple, a wounded colonel, an old gentleman, a fixture in the house, etc. There is a table de jote, but I believe no lady is dying there. Invitations to take up our quarters in private houses have been pressed upon us with a kindness and cordiality difficult to resist. Though politics are the only topic of interest at present, I think you will care little for having an account of the junta, of representatives or of the elections, with their chiefly military members. Considering by whom the members are chosen and the object for which they are elected, the result of their deliberations is, as you may suppose, pretty well known beforehand. Military power is strengthened by every act, and all this power is vested in the commanders in chief. New batches of generals are made in order to reward the late-distinguished services of the officers and colonels by hundreds. Eleven generals were created in the division of Paredes alone. Money has been given to the troops in the palace with orders to purchase new uniforms, which it is said will be very brilliant. There appears generally speaking a good deal of half-smother discontent, and it is whispered that even the revolutionary bankers are half-repented and look gloomy. The only opposition paper is, on periodical mass, one more periodical, the others are all ministerial. In the south there has been some trouble with generals Bravo and Alparez, who wished that part of the country took over in itself until the meeting of Congress. There was some talk of putting Valencia at the head of the troops which are esteemed to march against them, but there are now negotiations pending, and it is supposed there will be some agreement made without coming to bloodshed. It is said that orders were sent to General Almonte to leave the Republic, and that he answered the dispatch with firmness, refusing to acknowledge the authority of Santa Ana. General Bustamante, who is now in Guadalupe, intends to leave the scene of his disasters within a few months. CN paid him a visit lately, and though scarcely recovered from his fatigues both of body and mind, he appears cheerful and resigned, and with all the tranquility which can be inspired only by a good conscience, and the conviction of having done his duty to the best of his abilities. As for us personally, this revolution has been the most inconvenient revolution that ever took place, doing us all manner of mischief, stopping the sale of our furniture, throwing our affairs into confusion, overthrowing all our plans and probably delaying our departure until December or January. But in these cases everyone must suffer more or less, and meanwhile, we are surrounded by friends and by friendly attentions. It will be impossible for us to leave Mexico without regret. It requires nothing but a settled government to make it one of the first countries in the world. Santa Ana has much in his power. Resté a savoir how he will use that power. Perhaps in these last years of tranquility, which he has spent on his estate, he may have meditated to some purpose. It is singular how, in trying to avoid small evils, we plunge into unknown gulfs of misery, and how little we reflect that it might be wiser too. Bear those ills we have, then fly to others that we know not of. Everyone has heard of the abuses that produced the first revolution in Mexico, of the great inequality of riches, of the degradation of the Indians, of the high prices of foreign goods, of the inquisition, of the ignorance of the people, the bad state of the colleges, the difficulty of obtaining justice, the influence of the clergy, and the ignorance in which the Maycan youth were purposely kept. Which of these evils has been remedied? Foreign goods are cheaper, and the inquisition is not, but this last un-Christian institution had surely gradually lost its power before the days of the last Phasaroi. But in the sacred name of liberty every abuse can be tolerated. O fatal name, misleader of mankind, phantom, too radiant and too much adored, deceitful star whose beams are bright too blind, although their more benignant influence poured, the light of glory on the Swissers' sword, and hallowed Washington's immortal name. Liberty, thou an absent, how deplored, and when received, how wasted, till thy name grows tarnished, shall mankind ne'er cease to work thee shame. Not from the blood in fiercest battle shed, nor deeds heroical as arm can do, is the true strength of manly freedom bred, restraining tyranny, and license too, the madness of the many in the few, land whose new beauties I behold revealed, is this not true and bitter as tis true? The ruined fain, the desolated field, the rough and haunted road a solemn answer yield. Where look the loftiest Cordilleras down, from summits hoary with eternal snow on Montezuma's venerable town, and storied vale, and lake of Mexico, these thoughts the shade of melancholy throw on all that else were fair, and gay, and grand as nature in her glory can bestow, for never yet though liberal her hand, so variously hath she adorned enriched one land. What boots it, that from where the level deep basks in the tropic sun's oar-powering light, to where young mountains lift their wintery steep, all climbs all seasons in one land unite? What boots it, that her buried caves are bright, with wealth untold of gold or silver oar? While checked by Anarch his perpetual blight, industry trembles with her hard-earned store, while rapine riots near in riches stained with gore. O sage, regenerators of mankind, patriots of nimble tongue and systems crude, how many regal tyrannies combined, so many fields of massacre have strewed as you, and your tendon cutthroat brood? Man works no miracles, long toil, long thought, joined to experience may achieve much good, but to create new systems out of not is fit for him alone the universe who wrought. But what hath such an honour of such a day to do with human crimes or earthly gloom? Far wiser to enjoy while yet we may, the mockingbird's song, the orange flowers perfume, the freshness at the sparkling fountain showers, let nations reach their glory or their doom, spring will return to dress you on orange powers, and flowers will still bloom on, and bards will sing of flowers. Twenty first, in pursuance of the last mentioned advice we have been breakfasting today at Takubaya, with a blank minister in his family and enjoying ourselves there in Madame Blank's garden. We have also just returned from the Marquesa de Blanks, where we had a pleasant evening and met General Paredes, whom I like very much, a real soldier, thin, plain, blunt, and all hacked with wounds. Twenty third, Sien has been dining at the blank ministers where he met all the great actors in the present drama, and had an agreeable party. We are now thinking of making our escape from this hotel and of taking a horseback journey into Michoacan, which he'll occupy a month or six weeks. Meantime I am visiting, with a senorita blank, every hospital, jail, college, and madhouse in Mexico. Twenty sixth, today they are celebrating their independence. All the bells and all the churches beginning with the cathedral are peeling, cannon firing, rockets rushing up into the air, Santa Ana in the Alameda specifying, troops galloping, little boys running, to doom, chanting, crowds of men and women jostling each other, the streets covered with carriages, the balconies covered with people, the paseo expected to be crowded. I have escaped to a quiet room where I am trying to find time to make up my letters before the packet goes. I conclude this just as the dictator with his brilliant staff has driven off to Takubaya. End of letter, the forty-sixth. Letter the forty-seventh of life in Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life in Mexico by Francis Calderón de la Barca. Letter the forty-seventh. Opera. Santa Ana in his suite. His appearance. Belisario. Solitary Viva. Brilliant House. Military Dictatorship. San Juan de Dios. Hospital de Jesús. Cunha. Old Woman and Baby. Different Apartments. Accordada. Junta. Female Prisoners. Chief Crime. Travolks Forces. Children. Male Prisoners. Four Cats. Soldiers Gambling. Chapel. Confessional. Insane Hospital. Frenchmen. Different Kinds of Insanity. Kitchen. Dinner. Insane Monk. Black Chamber. Soldiers. College. Santa Ana's Leg. Projects. All Saints. Señora PA. Leave Takings. Fourth November. A great Function was given in the Opera in honor of his Excellency. The Theatre was most brilliantly illuminated with wax lights. Two principal boxes were thrown into one for the President and his suite, and lined with crimson and gold with draperies of the same. The staircase leading to the second tier, where this box was, was lighted by and lined all the way up with rows of footmen in crimson and gold livery. A crowd of gentlemen stood waiting in the lobby for the arrival of the hero of the FET. He came at last, in regal state, carriages and outriders at full gallop, himself staff and suite in splendid uniform. As he entered, Señor Roca presented him with a libretto of the opera, bound in red and gold. We met the great man in face, and he stopped and gave us a cordial recognition. Two years have made little change in him in appearance. He retains the same interesting, resigned and rather melancholy expression, the same quiet voice and grave but agreeable manner, and surrounded by pompous officers he alone looked quiet, gentlemanly and hybrid. The theatre was crowded to suffocation, boxes, pit and galleries. There was no applause as he entered. One solitary voice in the pit said, Viva Santana, but it seemed checked by a slight movement of disapprobation, scarcely amounting to a murmur. The opera was Belisarius, considered apropos to the occasion and was really beautifully montée. The dress is new and superb, the decorations handsome. They brought in real horses, and Belisarius entered in a triumphal chariot, drawn by white steeds, but for this the stage is infinitely too small. And the horses plunged and pranced so desperately that Belisarius wisely jumped out and finished his aria on foot. The two prima donnas acted together, the wife and daughter of the hero both about the same age and dressed very well. But the castellans voice is not suited to the opera, and the music, beautiful as it is, was the least effective part of the affair. The generals in their scarlet and gold uniforms sat, like peacocks, surrounding Santana, who looked modest and retiring, and as if quite unaccustomed to the public gaze. The boxes were very brilliant, all the diamonds taken out for the occasion. His excellency is by no means indifferent to beauty, to a contraire, yet, I dare say, his thoughts were this night of things more warlike and less fair. Let all this end as it may. Let them give everything whatever name is most popular. The government is now a military dictatorship. Senor Blanc calls this revolution the apotheosis of egotism transformed into virtue, and it must be confessed that in most of the actors it has been a mere calculation of personal interests. Tenth. We went, some days ago, with our friends from San Xavier, to visit the hospital San Juan de Dios at San Cosme. We found that, being at present under repair, it has but two occupants, old women who keep each other melancholy company. The building is very spacious and handsome, erected, of course, during Spanish dominion, and extremely clean, an observation worthy of note, when it occurs in Mexican public buildings. There is a large hall divided by square pillars with a light and cheerful aspect, where the patients sleep and a separate apartment for women. The rooms are all so clean, airy, and cheerful, that one forgets it is in hospital. In this respect the style of building here is superior to all others, with large airy courtyards and fountains, long galleries, and immense apartments with every window open. There is no part of Europe where, all the year round, invalids can enjoy such advantage, but also there are few parts of Europe where the climate would permit them to do so. The following day we visited another hospital that, known as the Hospital de Jesús, hallowed the ground, for here the mortal remains of Cortes were deposited, and they were rescued from desecration by a distinguished individual, during a popular tumult, so that they no longer repose in the sanctuary of the chapel. There still exists, enshrined here, that over which time and revolutions have no power, his memory. The establishment, as in hospital, is much finer, and the building infinitely handsomer than the other. The director, a physician, led us first into his own apartments, as the patients were dining, and afterwards showed us through the whole establishment. The first large hall into which we were shown is almost entirely occupied by soldiers, who had been wounded during that pronunciamiento. One had lost an arm, another a leg, and they looked sad and haggard enough, though they seemed perfectly well attended to, and I dare say did anything but bless the revolutions that brought them to that state, and with which they had nothing to do, for your Mexican soldier will lie down on his man at night, a loyal man, and will waken in the morning and find himself a pronunciado. Each one had a separate room or at least a compartment divided by curtains from the next, and in each was a bed, a chair, and a small table, this on one side of the long hall. The other was occupied by excellent hot and cold baths, with then visited the women's apartment, which is on a similar plan. Amongst the patients is an unfortunate child of eight years old, who, in the pronunciamiento, had been accidentally struck by a bullet, which entered her left temple and came out below the right eye, leaving her alive. The ball was extracted, and a portion of the brain came out of the wound. She is left blind or nearly so, having but a faint glimmering of light. They say she will probably live, which seems impossible. She looks like a galvanized corpse, yet must have been a good-looking child. Notwithstanding the nature of her wound, her reason has not gone, and as she sat upright in her little bed with her head bandaged, and her fixed and sightless eyes, she answered meekly and readily to all the questions we put to her. Poor little thing! She was shocking to look at one of the many innocent beings whose lives are to be rendered sad and joyless by this revolution. The doctor seemed very kind to her. A curious accident happened to Señor Blanc in this last pronunciamiento. He had already lost his leg in the first one and was limping along the street when he was struck by a ball. He was able to reach his house and call to his wife to tell her what had occurred. Her first impulse was to call for a doctor when he said to her very coolly, not this time, a carpenter will do better. He had been shot in his wooden leg. At the end of the women's apartment in this hospital there is a small chapel where mass is set to the invalids. It is only remarkable as having over the altar an image of the Purísima brought from Spain by Cortes. We went all through the building even to the enclosure on the Azotea, where dead bodies are dissected and on which Azotea was a quantity of wool taken from the mattresses of those who die in the hospital and which is left in the sun during a certain period before it is permitted to be used again. The whole establishment struck us as being healthy, cleanly and well conducted. We then visited the fine old church which has put one broad aisle with a handsome altar and near it is a small monument under which the bones of the conqueror were placed. The sacristy of the church is remarkable for its ceiling, composed of the most intricately and beautifully carved mahogany, a work of immense labour and taste after the Gothic style. The divisions of the compartments are painted blue and ornamented with gilding. In the centre of the apartment is an immense circular table formed of one piece of mahogany for which large sums have been refused. We went in the evening to visit the Kunya, which is not a fine building but a large healthy airy house. At the door, where there are a porter and his wife the babies are now given in. Formerly they were put in at the Reha, at the window of the porter's lodge, but this had to be given up in consequence of the tricks played by boys or idle persons who put in dogs, cats or dead animals. As we were going upstairs we heard an old woman singing a cheerful ditty in an awfully cracked voice, and as we got a full view of her before she could see us, we saw a clean old body sitting, sowing and singing. While a baby rolling on the floor in a state of perfect ecstasy was keeping up a sort of crowing duet with her, she seemed delighted to see these ladies who belonged to the junta and led us into a large hall, where a score of nurses and babies were performing a symphony of singing, hushing, crying, lullabying and other nursery music. All along the room were little green painted beds, and both nurses and babies looked clean and healthy. The blanks knew every baby and nurse and directress by name. Some of the babies were remarkably pretty, and when we had admired them sufficiently, we were taken into the next hall occupied by little girls of two, three and four years old. They were all seated on little mats at the foot of their small green beds, a regiment of the finest and healthiest children possible. A directress in the room sowing. At our entrance they all jumped up simultaneously and surrounded us with the noisiest expressions of delight. One told me in a confidential whisper that Manuelita had thumbed her own head and had a pain in it, but I could not see that Manuelita seemed to be suffering any acute agonies, for she made more noise than any of them. One little girl settled up to me and sat in a most insinuating voice. Mievas too? Will you take me away with you? For even at this early age they begin to have a glimmering idea that those whom the ladies choose from amongst them are peculiarly favored. We stayed some time with them and admired their healthy, happy and well-fed appearance, and then proceeded to the apartment of the boys, all little things of the same age, sitting ranged in a row like senators in Congress and, strange to say, much quieter and graver than the female babies. But this must have been from shyness, for before we came away we saw them romping in great style. The directresses seemed good respectable women and kind to the children, who as I mentioned before almost all taken away and brought up by rich people, before they have time to know that there is anything peculiar or unfortunate in their situation. After this adoption they are completely on a level with the other children of the family, an equal portion is left them, and although their condition is never made a secret of, they frequently marry as well as their adopted brothers and sisters. Those who are opposed to this institution are so on the plea that it encourages and facilitates vice. That the number of children in the hospital is a proof that much vice and much poverty do exist, there is no doubt, that by enabling the vicious to conceal their guilt or by relieving the poor from their burden it encourages either vice or idleness is scarcely probable. But even were it so the certain benefits are so immense when laid in the balance with the possible evils that they cannot be put in competition. The mother who leaves her child at the Kuna, would she not abandon it to a worse fate if this institution did not exist? If she does so to conceal her disgrace, is it not seen that a woman will stop at no cruelty to obtain this end as exposure of her infant, even murder, and that, strong as maternal love is, the dread of the world's scorn has conquered it? If poverty be the cause, surely the misery must be great indeed, which induces the poorest beggar or the most destitute of the Indian women, whose love for their children amounts to a passion, to part with her child, and though it is suspected that the mother who has left her infant at the Kuna has occasionally got herself hired as a nurse that she may have the pleasure of bringing it up, it seems to me that no great evil can arise even from that. These orphans are thus rescued from the contamination of vice, from poverty, perhaps from the depths of depravity, perhaps their very lives are saved and great sin prevented. Hundreds of innocent children are thus placed under the care of the first and best ladies in the country, and brought up to be worthy members of society. Another day we devoted to visiting a different and more painful scene, the Accordada, or public jail, a great solid building, spacious and well ventilated, for this also there is a junta, or society of ladies of the first families, who devote themselves to teaching the female malfactors. It is painful and almost startling to see the first ladies in Mexico familiarly conversing with and embracing women who have been guilty of the most atrocious crimes, especially of murdering their husbands, which is the chief crime of the female prisoners. There are no bad faces amongst them and probably not one who has committed a premeditated crime. A moment of jealousy during intoxication, violent passions without any curb, suddenly aroused and as suddenly extinguished have led to these frightful results. We were first shown into a large and tolerably clean apartment, where the female prisoners were kept apart as being of a more decent family than the rest. Some were lying on the floor, others working, some were well-dressed, others dirty and slovenly. Few looked sad, most appeared careless and happy, and none seemed ashamed. Amongst them were some of the handsomest faces I have seen in Mexico. One good-looking common woman, with a most joys and benevolent countenance and lame, came up to salute the ladies. I inquired what she had done. Murdered her husband and buried him under the brick floor. Shade of lavator. It is some comfort to hear that their husbands were generally such brutes they deserved little better. Amongst others confined here is the wife, or rather the widow, of a governor of Mexico who made away with her husband. We did not see her and they say she generally keeps out of the way when strangers come. One very pretty and coquettish little woman, with a most intellectual face and very superior looking, being in fact a relation of count Blanks, is in jail on suspicion of having poisoned her lover. A beautiful young creature, extremely like Mrs. Blank of Boston was among the prisoners. I did not hear what her crime was. We were attended by a woman who has the title of Presidenta, and who, after some years of good conduct, has now the charge of her fellow prisoners, but she also murdered her husband. We went upstairs, accompanied by various of these distinguished criminals, to the room looking down upon the chapel, in which room the ladies give them instruction in reading, and in the Christian doctrine. With the time which they devote to these charitable offices, together with their numerous devotional exercises, and the care which their houses and families require, it cannot be said that the life of a mejican senora is an idle one, nor in such cases can it be considered a useless one. We then descended to the lower regions where, in a great damp, faulted gallery, hundreds of unfortunate women of the lowest class were occupied in Travalk's forces, not indeed of a very hard description. These were employed in baking tortillas for the prisoners. Dirty, ragged, and miserable-looking creatures there were in these dismal vaults which looked like purgatory, and smelled like heaven knows what. But as I have frequently had occasion to observe in Mexico, the sense of smell is a doubtful blessing. Another large hall near this, which the prisoners were employed in cleaning and sweeping, has at least fresh air opening on one side into a court, where poor little children, the saddest sight there were running about, the children of the prisoners. Leaving the side of the building devoted to the women, we passed on to another gallery, looking down upon an immense paved court with a fountain, where were several hundreds of male prisoners, unfortunately collected together without any reference to the nature of their crime. The midnight murderer, with a purloiner of a pocket handkerchief, the branded felon with the man guilty of some political offence, the dadder with the false coiner, so that many a young and thoughtless individual, whom a trifling fault, the result of ignorance, or of unformed principles, has brought hither, must leave this place wholly contaminated and hardened by bad example and vicious conversation. Here there were indeed some ferocious, hardened-looking ruffians, but there were many mild, good-humored faces, and I could see neither sadness nor trace of shame on any countenance. Indeed, they all seemed much amused by seeing so many ladies. Some were stretched, full length on the ground, doing nothing, others were making rolls for hats, of different colored beads, such as they wear here, or little baskets for sale, whilst others were walking about alone or conversing in groups. This is the first prison I ever visited, therefore I can compare it with no other, but the system must be wrong which makes no distinctions between different degrees of crime. These men are the same four cats whom we daily see in chains watering the Alameda or Paseo, or mending the streets. Several hundreds of prisoners escaped from the Accordada in the time of their pronunciamiento, probably the worst amongst them, yet half the city appears to be here now. We were shown the row of cells for criminals whom it is necessary to keep in solitary confinement on account of disorderly behavior, also the apartments of the directors. In passing downstairs we came upon a group of dirty-looking soldiers, busily engaged in playing at cards. The Alcalde, who was showing us through the jail, dispersed them all in a great rage, which I suspect was partly assumed for our edification. We then went into the chapel which we had seen from above and which is handsome and well kept. In the sacrosities a horrid and appropriate image of the bad thief. We were also shown a small room off the chapel, with a confessional where the criminal condemned to die spends the three days preceding his execution with a padre chosen for that purpose. What horrid confessions, what lamentations and despair that small dark chamber must have witnessed. There is nothing in it but an altar, a crucifix, and a bench. I think the custom is a very humane one. We felt glad to leave this place of crimes and to return to the fresh air. The following day we went to visit San Hipolito, the insane hospital for men accompanied by the director, a fine old gentleman who has been a great deal abroad, and who looks like a French marquis of the ancient regime. I was astonished on entering at the sweet and solitary beauty of the large stone quartz, with orange trees and pomegranates, now in full blossom, and the large fountains of beautifully clear water. There must be something soothing in such a scene to the senses of the most unfortunate of God's creatures. They were sauntering about, quiet, and for the most part sad. Some stretched out under the trees, and others gazing on the fountain, all apparently very much under the control of the administrador, who was formerly a monk, this San Hipolito being a dissolved convent of that order. The system of giving occupation to the insane is not yet introduced here. On entering, we saw rather a distinguished-looking, tall, and well-dressed gentleman, whom we concluded to be a stranger who had come to see the establishment like ourselves. We were therefore somewhat startled when he advanced towards us with long strides, and in an authoritative voice shouted out, Do you know who I am? I am the Deliverer of Guatemala. The administrador told us he had just been taken up, was a Frenchman, and in a state of furious excitement. He continued making a tremendous noise, and the other madmen seemed quite ashamed of him. One unhappy-looking creature with a pale melancholy face, and his arms stretched out above his head, was embracing a pillar, and when asked what he was doing, replied that he was making sugar. We were led into the dining hall, a long-airy apartment provided with benches and tables, and from thence into a most splendid kitchen, high, vaulted, and receiving air from above, a kitchen that might have graced the castle of some futile barren, and looked as if it would most surely last as long as men shall eat and cooks endure. Monks of San Hipolito! How many a smoking dinner! What vial and stimming and savory must have issued from this noblest of kitchens to your refactoring next door? The food for the present in midst which two women were preparing consisted of meat and vegetables, soup and sweet things excellent to meat and well-dressed frijoles. A poor little boy, embecile, deaf and dumb, was seated there cross-legged in a sort of wooden box, a pretty child with a fine color, but who has been in this state from his infancy. The women seemed very kind to him, and he had a placid, contended expression of face, but took no notice of us when we spoke to him. Strange and unsolvable problem, what ideas passed through the brain of that child. When we returned to the dining hall, the inmates of the asylum to the number of ninety or a hundred were all sitting at dinner, ranged quietly on the benches, eating with wooden spoons out of wooden bowls. The poor hero of Guatemala was seated at the lower end of the table, tolerably tranquil. He started up on seeing us and was beginning some furious explanations, but was prevented by his neighbor who turned round with an air of great superiority, saying, He's mad, at which the other smiled with an air of great contempt and looking at us, said, He calls me mad. The man of the pillar was eyeing his soup with his arms, as before, extended above his head. The director desired him to eat his soup, upon which he slowly and reluctantly brought down one arm and eight of his spoonfuls. How much sugar have you made today? asked the director. Fifty thousand kingdoms, said the man. They showed us two men, a very good family, and one old gentleman who did not come to dinner with the rest, but stood aloof in the courtyard with an air of great superiority. He had a cross upon his breast and belongs to an old family. As we approached, he took off his hat and spoke to us very politely, and then turning to the director. Y por fin, said he, cuando salde. When shall I leave this place? Very soon, said the director. You may get your trunks ready. He bowed and appeared satisfied, but continued standing in the same place, his arms folded and with the same wistful gaze as before. The director told us that the two great causes of madness here are love and drinking, mental and physical intoxication, that the insanity caused by the former is almost invariably incurable, whereas the victim of the latter generally recover as is natural. The poor old gentleman with the cross owes the overthrow of his mind to the desertion of his mistress. We saw the chapel where a padre says mass to these poor creatures, the innocents, as they are called here. They do not enter the chapel for fear of their creating any disturbance, but kneel outside in front of the iron grating, and the administrator says it is astonishing how quiet and serious they appear during divine service. As we passed through the court there was a man busily employed in hanging up various articles of little children's clothes as if to dry them, little frocks and trousers all the time speaking rapidly to himself and stopping every two minutes to take an immense draught of water from the fountain. His dinner was brought out to him for he could not be prevailed on to sit down with the others, and he ate it in the same hurried way, dipping his bread in the fountain and talking all the time. The poor madmen of the sugar kingdoms returned from dinner and resumed his usual place at the pillar, standing with his arms above his head and with the same melancholy and suffering expression of face. The director then showed us the room where the clothes were kept, the straw hats and coarse dresses and the terrible straight waistcoats made of brown linen that look like coats with prodigiously long sleeves, and the botica where the medicines are kept in the secretary's room where they preserve the mournful records of entry and death, though often of exit. All around the court are strong stone cells where the furious are confined. He took us into an empty one where a Franciscan friar had been lodged. He had contrived to pull down part of the wall and to make a large hole into his neighbor's cell adjoining. Fancy one madman seeing the head of another appear through a hole in his cell. The whole cell was covered with crosses of every description drawn with a piece of coal. They had been obliged to remove him into another in the gallery above where he had already begun a new work of destruction. I was afterwards told by the Paedre Pien, the confessor of condemned criminals and who is at the same order as this insane monk, that this poor man had been a merchant and had collected together about forty thousand dollars with which he was traveling to Mexico when he was attacked by robbers who not only deprived him of all he possessed but gave him some severe wounds on the head. When somewhat recovered he renounced the world and took his vows in the convent of San Francisco. Shortly after he became subject to attacks of insanity and at last became so furious that the superior was obliged to request an order for his admission to San Hipolito. The director then led us to the gallery above where are more cells in the terrible cuarto negro, the black chamber. A dark ground cell about twelve feet in circumference with merely a slit in the wall for the admission of air. The floor is thickly covered with straw and the walls are entirely covered with soft stuffed cushions. Here the most furious madman is confined on his arrival and whether he throws himself on the floor or dashes his head against the wall he can do himself no injury. In a few days the silence and the darkness soothe his fury. He grows calmer and will eat the food that is thrust through the aperture in the wall. From this he is removed to a common cell with more light and air but until he has become tranquil he is not admitted into the court amongst the others. From this horrible though I suppose necessary den of suffering we went to the apartments of the Administrador which have a fine view of the city and the volcanoes and so a virgin, beautifully carved in wood and dressed in white satin robes embroidered with small diamonds. On the ground was a little dog dying, having just fallen off from the azotea, an accident which happens to dogs here not unfrequently. We then went up to the azotea which looks into the garden of San Fernando and of our last house and also into the barracks of the soldiers, who as blank observed are more dangerous madmen than those who are confined. Some rolled up in their dirty yellow cloaks and others standing in their shirt sleeves and many without either. They were as dirty looking a set of military heroes as one would wish to see. When we came downstairs again and had gone through the court and were passing the last cell, each of which is only lighted by an aperture in the thick stone wall, a pair of great black eyes glaring through upon a level with mine startled me infinitely. The eyes however glared upon vacancy. The face was thin and sallow, the beard long and matted and the cheeks sunken. What long years of suffering appeared to have passed over that furrowed brow? I wish I had not seen it. We afterwards went to the College of Biscaynos that came might see it, my third and last visit. What a palace! What courts and fountains! We went over the whole building as before from the azotea downwards and from the porters large upwards. Many of the scholars who went out during the revolution have not yet returned. Kay was in admiration at the galleries which look like long vaulted streets and at the chapel which is certainly remarkably rich. Having stopped in the carriage on the way home at a shoemaker's, we saw Santa Ana's leg lying on the counter and observed it with due respect as the prop of a hero. With this leg which is fitted with a very handsome boot he reviews his troops next Sunday, putting his best foot foremost, for generally he merely wears an unadorned wooden leg. The shoemaker, a Spaniard whom I can recommend to all customers as the most impertinent individual I ever encountered was arguing in a blustering manner with a gentleman who had brought a message from the general desiring some alteration in the boot and wound up by muttering as the messenger left the shop. He shall either wear it as it is or review the troops next Sunday without his leg. Footnote 1 Boston, November, 1842. Apropodes Botes, I copy the following paragraph from Manavana newspaper. Mexico, 28 September. Yesterday was buried with pomp and solemnity in the cemetery of Saint Paul, the foot which his Excellency, President Santa Ana, lost in the action of the 5th December, 1838. It was deposited in a monument erected for that purpose, Don Ignacio Sierra Yeroso, having pronounced a funeral discourse appropriate to the subject. End of footnote. We have ordered Mangas to wear in our intended journey, which is now nearly decided on, nothing tolerable to be had under seventy or eighty dollars. They are made of strong cloth with a hole in the middle for putting the head through, with black velvet capes fringed either with silk or gold and are universally lined with strong calico. They are warm and convenient for riding in the country. I have seen some richly embroidered which cost five hundred dollars. It is as I prophesied now that we are about leaving Mexico, we fancy that there still remain objects of interest which we have not seen. We have paid a visit, probably a late visit, to our Lady of Guadalupe and certainly never examined her cathedral with so much attention or lingered so long before each painting and shrine, or listened with so much interest to the particulars of its erection which were given us by Senor Blanc, whose authority in these matters is unimpeachable. It appears that the present sacristy of the Perochil Church dates back to 1575 and was then a small chapel, where the miraculous image was kept and where it remained until the beginning of the next century when a new church was built to which the image was solemnly transported. Even when enclosed in the first small sanctuary its fame must have been great, for by orders of the Archbishop, six dowries of three hundred dollars each to be given to six orphans on their marriage were annually drawn from the alms offered at her shrine. But in 1629 Mexico suffered the terrible inundation which destroyed so large a part of the city, and the excellent Archbishop, Di Francisco Manzo, while devoting his time and fortune to assist the sufferers, also gave orders that the virgin of Guadalupe should be brought into Mexico and placed in the cathedral there, then of very different dimensions from the present noble building. Occupying it is said the space which is now covered by the principal sacristy. When the waters retired and the virgin was restored to her own sanctuary, her fame increased to a prodigious extent. Copies of the divine image were so multiplied that there is probably not an Indian hut throughout the whole country where one does not exist. Oblations and alms increased a thousand fold, a silver throne weighing upwards of three hundred and fifty marks, and beautifully wrought, chiefly at the expense of the visoroi. Count of Salvatiera was presented to her sanctuary, together with a glass case for the image, considered at that time a wonder of art. At the end of the century a new temple, the present sanctuary, was begun. The second church was thrown down, but not until a provisional building. The actual parish church was erected to receive the image. The new temple was concluded in 1709 and is said to have cost from six to eight hundred thousand dollars collected from alms alone, which were solicited in person by the Vice Regal Archbishop D. Juan de Ortega in Montanez. Two private individuals in Mexico gave, the one thirty, the other fifty thousand dollars towards its erection. The interior is of the Doric order and has three aisles divided by eight pillars upon which with the walls are placed eighteen arches, the center one forming the dome of the edifice. It runs from north to south, has three great gates, one fronting Mexico and two others at the sides. Its length may be two hundred and fifty feet and its width about one hundred and thirty. In the four external angles of the church are four lofty towers in the midst of which rises the dome. Three altars were at first erected and in the middle one, the steam for the image was a sumptuous tabernacle of silver guilt, in which were more than three thousand two hundred marks of silver, and which cost nearly eighty thousand dollars. In the center of this was a piece of gold, weighing four thousand and fifty castellanos, an old Spanish coin, the fiftieth part of a mark of gold. And here the image was placed, the linen on which it is painted guarded by a silver plate of great value. The rest of the temple had riches corresponding, the candlesticks, vases, railing, etc., contain nearly fourteen thousand marks of silver, without counting the numerous holy vessels, cups, and chalices adorned with jewels. One golden lamp weighed upwards of two thousand two hundred castellanos, another seven hundred and fifty silver marks. In eighteen oh two some part of the walls and arches began to give way, and it was necessary to repair them. But first, under the direction of the celebrated sculptor, Tulsa, a new altar was erected for the image. His first care was to collect the most beautiful marbles of the country for this purpose, the black he brought from Puebla, and the white, gray and rose colored from the quarries of San Jose Vizaron. He also began to work at the bronze ornaments, but from the immense sums of money necessary to its execution, the work was delayed for nearly twenty years. Then, in eighteen twenty-six, it was recommenced with fresh figure. The image was removed, meanwhile, to the neighboring convent of the Capuchinas, and the same year the altar was concluded, and the Virgin brought back in solemn procession in the midst of an innumerable multitude. This great altar, which cost from three to four hundred thousand dollars, is a concave hexagonal, in the midst of which rise two white marble pillars, and on each side two columns of rose-colored marble of the composite order which support the arch. Between these are two pedestals on which are the images of San Joaquin and Santana and two niches, containing San Jose and Saint John the Baptist. Above the cornices are three other pedestals supporting the three saints, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, and above signed Michael. In the midst of Cherubim and Seraphim is a representation of the Eternal Father. The space between the upper part of the altar and the roof is covered with a painted crimson curtain held by saints and angels. The tabernacle in the center of the altar is a rose-colored marble in which the image is deposited, and all the ornaments of the altar are of gilt bronze and zinc. Besides the collegiate and the parish church, there are at Guadalupe the church of the Capuchin Nuns, and the churches of the hill and the well, all in such close conjunction that the whole village or city, as it calls itself, seems altogether some religious establishment or confraternity belonging to these temples and churches, united in the worship of the Virgin and consequent upon the miraculous apparition manifested to the chosen Indian, Juan Diego. I regret not having known till lately that there exists in Mexico a convent of Indian nuns, and that each nun, when she takes the veil, wears a very superb Indian dress, the costume formerly worn by the casicas, or ladies of highest rank. I went some days ago with a senorita F.A. to visit a house for insane women in the Caya de Canoa, built in 1698 by the rich congregation of El Salvador. The institution is now in great want of funds, and is by no means to be compared with the establishment of San Hipolito. The director seems a good kind-hearted woman who devoted herself to doing her duty, and who is very gentle to her patients, using no means but those of kindness and steadiness to subdue their violence. But what a life of fear and suffering such a situation must be! The inmates look poor and miserable, generally speaking, and it is difficult to shake off the melancholy impression which they produce on the mind. We were particularly struck by the sight of one unfortunate woman of the better class who, with her long hair all disheveled and eyes sparkling with a wild light stood at the open window of her cell, where for the present they are obliged to confine her, and who poured forth the most piteous lamentations, and adjured everyone who passed in the most pathetic terms to restore her husband and children to her. One girl was singing cheerfully, one or two women were sowing, but most of them were sitting crouched on the floor with a look of melancholy vacancy. The poor are admitted gratis, and the richer classes pay a moderate sum for their board. To turn to a very different theme, we continue to go to the opera, certainly the most agreeable amusement in Mexico, and generally to the blank minister's box in the center. Last evening Balisario was repeated, but with less splendor than on its representation in honor of Santana. We expect to leave this on the 16th, going in a diligence as far as Toluca, where a Mexican officer, Colonel Y, has kindly promised to meet us with mules and horses. Emle Comte de B and Mr. W, secretaries of the French and English Legations, have made arrangements for accompanying us as far as Valadolid, with which agreeable traveling companions we may reasonably expect a pleasant journey. Last Sunday was the Festival of All Saints. On the evening of each day, we walked out under the portales, with M. and M. de Blanc, minister and his wife, to look at the illumination and at the numerous booths filled with sugar skulls, etc., temptingly ranged in greening rows to the great edification of the children. In general, there are crowds of well-dressed people on the occasion of this fet, but the evening was cold and disagreeable, and though there were a number of ladies, they were enveloped in shells and dispersed early. The old women at their booths, with their cracked voices, kept up the constant cry of skulls, ninjas, skulls, but there were also animals done in sugar of every species, enough to form specimens for a Noah's Ark. 14th. We leave this the day after tomorrow and shall ride from our first halting-place, and as on our return we shall do little more than pass through Mexico, we are almost taking leave of all our friends. We are to tell you all the kindness on hospitality, and cordial offers of service that we receive, and the manner in which our rooms, albit the rooms of an inn, are filled from morning till night, it would seem an exaggeration. One acquaintance we have made lately, whom we like so much, that we have been vociferously abusing the system of fair part in the city, since owing to the mistake of a servant, we have until now been deprived of the pleasure of knowing her. The mistake is rectified at the eleventh hour. The lady is the Senora de G. C. P. A., one of the most accomplished and well-informed women in Mexico, and though our friendship has been short, I trust it may be enduring. Two evenings since we went to the Senora de C. S. to an amateur concert, and I question whether in any capital of Europe so many good amateur voices could be collected. I do not speak of the science of cultivation, though the hostess. The Senora A. has a perfect method, but yesterday we spent a most agreeable evening in a delightful family reunion at the house of Senora N. del B. O. It was strictly limited to the family relations and was, I believe, his short effect. If our Mexican society resembled this, we should have too much regret in leaving it. The girls handsome, well-educated, and simple in their manners and tastes, they count as a model of virtue and dignity, then so much true affection and love, of harm amongst them all, so much wealth and yet good taste and perfect simplicity visible in all that surrounds them. Mexico is not lost as long as such families exist, and though they mingle little in society, the influence of their virtues and charities is widely felt. This morning C. N. had an audience of the new president. He also paid a visit to General Bustamante, who is still at Guadalupe and preparing for his departure. He will probably sail in the Jason, the man of war which brought us to Veracruz, and it is probable that we shall leave the Republic at the same period. The dowager Marquesa de Vivanco, who in consequence of ill health has not left her house for months, was among our visitors this morning. Today Count C.A. died here and brought for our inspection the splendid sword presented by Congress to General Valencia with its hilt of brilliance and opals, a beautiful piece of workmanship which does credit to the Mexican artificers. He was particularly brilliant and eloquent in his conversation today. Whether his theories are right or wrong, they are certainly entrainant. Our next letters will probably be dated from Toluca. End of letter, the 47th.