 5. Departure from Veracruz, Sandhills, Oriental Seen, Manja de Clavo, General Santa Ana, Breakfast, Escort and Diligence, Santa Fe, Puente Nacional, Bridge sketched by Mrs. Ward, Country in December, Don Miguel, First Impressions, Fruit, Plan del Río, German Musicians, Sleeping Captain, Approach to Jalapa, Appearance of the City, Coffre de Perote, Flowers, House and Rock, Last View of Jalapa, Change of scenery, San Miguel de los Soldados, Perote, Striking Seen Before Daybreak, Non-Arrival of Escort, Yankee Coachman, Dispute, Departure, Company of Lancers, Alcalde, Breakfast at La Ventilla, Pulque, Double Escort, Crosses, Brigand Looking Tavern Keeper, Ojo de Agua, Arrival at Puebla, Dress of the Peasants, Christmas Eve in Nacimiento, Jalapa, 23 December, Yesterday morning at 2 o'clock we rose by candlelight with a pleasant prospect of leaving Veracruz and of seeing Santa Ana. Two boxes, called carriages, drawn by mules, read the door to convey us to Manja de Clavo. Señor V. O. C. N., the Commander of the Jason and I, being encased in them, we set off half asleep. By the faint light we could just distinguish as we passed the gates, and the carriages plowed their way along, nothing but sand, sand as far as the eye could reach, a few leagues of Arabian desert. At length we began to see symptoms of vegetation, occasional palm trees and flowers, and by the time we had reached a pretty Indian village, where we stopped to change mules, the light had broken, and we seemed to have been transported, as if by enchantment, from a desert to a garden. It was altogether a picturesque and striking scene, the huts composed of bamboo, and thatched with palm leaves, the Indian women with their long black hair standing at the doors with their half-naked children, the mules rolling themselves on the ground, according to their favorite fashion, snow-white goats browsing amongst the palm trees, and the air so soft and balmy, the first fresh breath of morning, the dew drops still glittering on the broad leaves of the banana and palm, and all around so silent, cool, and still. The huts, though poor, were clean, no windows, but a certain subdued light makes its way through the leafy canes. We procured some tumblers of new milk, and having changed mules, pursued our journey, now no longer, through hills of sand, but across the country, through a wilderness of trees and flowers, the glowing productions of tierra caliente. We arrived about five at Mangha de Clavo, after passing through leagues of natural garden, the property of Santa Anna. The house is pretty, slight-looking, and kept in nice order. We were received by an A. D. camp, in uniform and by several officers, and conducted to a large, cool, agreeable apartment, with little furniture into which shortly entered the Señora de Santa Anna. Tall, thin, and at that early hour of the morning, dressed to receive us in clear white muslin, with white satin shoes and with very splendid diamond earrings, brooch and rings. She was very polite and introduced her daughter, Guadalupe, a miniature of her mama, in features and custom. In a little while entered Señora de Santa Anna himself, a gentlemanly, good-looking, quietly dressed, rather melancholy-looking person, with one leg, apparently somewhat of an invalid, and to us the most interesting person in the group. He has a shallow complexion, fine dark eyes, soft and penetrating, and an interesting expression of face. Knowing nothing of his past history, one would have said a philosopher living in dignified retirement, one who had tried the world and found that all was vanity, one who had suffered in gratitude and who, if he were ever persuaded to emerge from his retreat, would only do so. Cincinnati's style to benefit his country. It is strange how frequently this expression of philosophic resignation of placid sadness is to be remarked on the countenances of the deepest, most ambitious, and most designing men. C. N. gave him a letter from the queen, written under the supposition of his being still president, with which he seemed much pleased, but merely made the innocent observation, how very well the queen writes. It was only now and then that the expression of his eye was startling, especially when he spoke of his leg which is cut off below the knee. He speaks of it frequently, like Sir John O'Ramourny of his bloody hand, and when he gives an account of his wound and alludes to the French on that day, his countenance assumes that air of bitterness which Ramanys may have exhibited when speaking of Harry the Smith. Otherwise he made himself very agreeable, spoke a great deal of the United States, and of the persons he had known there, and in his manners was quiet and gentlemanlike, and altogether a more polished hero than I had expected to see. To judge from the past he will not long remain in his present state of inaction, besides having with him, according to Zavala, a principle of action for ever impelling him forward. In attendant, breakfast was announced, the Senora de Santa Anna led me in, C. N. was placed at the head of the table, I on his right, Santa Anna opposite, the Senora on my right. The breakfast was very handsome, consisting of innumerable Spanish dishes, meat and vegetables, fish and fowl, fruits and sweet meats, all served in white and gold French porcelain with coffee, wines, etc. After breakfast the Senora, having dispatched an officer for her cigar case, which was gold with a diamond latch, offered me a cigar, which I, having declined, she lighted her own, a little paper cigarito, and the gentleman followed her good example. We then proceeded to look at the outhouses and offices at the general's favorite warhorse and old white charger, probably a sincere philosopher than his master. At several game cocks, kept with his special care, cock fighting being a favorite recreation of Santa Anna's, and at his Littera, which is handsome and comfortable. There are no gardens, but as he observed, the whole country, which for twelve leagues square, belongs to him, is a garden. The appearance of the family says little for the healthiness of the locale, and indeed its beauty and fertility will not compensate for its insalubrity. As we had but a few hours to spare, the general ordered round two carriages, both very handsome, and made in the United States, one of which conveyed him and Sien, the Senora, and me. In the other were the little girl and the officers, in which order we proceeded across the country to the high road, where the diligence and servants, with our guide Don Miguel S., were to overtake us. The diligence not having arrived, we got down and sat on a stone bench, in front of an Indian cottage, where we talked, while the young lady amused herself, by eating apples, and Sien and the general remained moralizing in the carriage. Shortly after, and just as the sun was beginning to give us a specimen of his power, our lumbering escort of Mejican soldiers galloped up, orders having been given by the government, that a fresh escort shall be stationed every six leagues, and announced the approach of the diligence. We were agreeably disappointed by the arrival of a handsome new coach, made in the United States, drawn by ten good-looking mules, and driven by a smart Yankee coachman. Our party consisted of ourselves, Don Miguel, the captain of the Jason, and his first lieutenant, who accompany us to Mexico. The day was delightful, and everyone apparently in good humor. We took leave of General Santa Anna, his lady and daughter, also of our hospitable entertainer. Senor V., got into the diligence, door shut all right, lashed up the mules, and now for Mexico. Gradually as in Dante's comedia, after leaving Purgatory, typified by Vera Cruz, we seemed to draw nearer to paradise. The road is difficult, as the approach to paradise ought to be, and the extraordinary jolts were sufficient to prevent us from being too much enraptured by the scenery, which increased in beauty as we advanced. At Santa Fe and So Pilote, we changed horses, and at Tolomo, one of the sites of the Civil War, came to the end of Santa Anna's twelve leagues of property. We arrived at Puente Nacional, formerly Puente del Rey, celebrated as the scene of many an engagement during the Revolution, and by occupying which Victoria frequently prevented the passage of the Spanish troops and that of the convoys of silver to the port. Here we stopped a short time to admire the beautiful bridge thrown over the river Antigua, with its stone arches, which brought Mrs. Ward's sketch to my recollection, though it is very long since I saw the book. We were accompanied by the commander of the fort. It is now a peaceful looking scene. We walked to the bridge, pulled branches of large white flowers, admire the rapid river dashing over the rocks, and the fine bold scenery that surrounds it. The village is a mere collection of huts with some fine trees. It was difficult to believe, as we journeyed on, that we were now in the midst of December. The air was soft and balmy, the heat without being oppressive, that of a July day in England. The road through a succession of woody country, trees covered with every variety of blossom, and loaded with the most delicious tropical fruits. Flowers of every colour filling the air with fragrance, and the most fantastical profusion of parasitical plants intertwining the branches of the trees, and flinging the bright blossoms over every bow. Palms, cocoas, oranges, lemons, succeeded one another, and at one turn of the road, down in a lovely green valley we caught a glimpse of an Indian woman with her long hair resting under the shade of a lofty tree, beside a running stream, an oriental picture. Had it not been for the dust and the jolting, nothing could have been more delightful. As for Don Miguel with his head out of the window, now desiring the coachman to go more quietly, now warning us to prepare for a jolt, now pointing out everything worth looking at, and making light of difficulties, he was the very best conductor of a journey I ever met with. His hat of itself was a curiosity to us, a white beaver with immense brim, lined with thick silver tissue, with two large silver rolls and tassels round it. One circumstance must be observed by all who travel in Mexican territory. There is not one human being or passing object to be seen that is not in itself a picture, or which would not form a good subject for the pencil. The Indian women with their plated hair and little children slung to their backs, their large straw hats and petticoats of two colors, the long strings of arreros with their loaded mules and swarthy, wild-looking faces, the chance horseman who passes with his sarape of many colors, his high ornamented saddle, Mexican hat, silver stirrups and leather boots, this is picturesque. Salvatore Rosa and Hogarth might have traveled more to advantage hand in hand. Salvatore for the sublime and Hogarth taking him up where the sublime became the ridiculous. At La Calera we had a distant view of the sea. Occasionally we stopped to buy oranges fresh from the trees, pineapples and granaditas, which are like Brobdenagian gooseberries, the pulp enclosed in a very thick yellow or green rind and very refreshing. It was about seven in the evening when very dusty, rather tired, but very much enchanted with all we had seen, we arrived at Plan del Rio. Here the diligence passengers generally stop for the night, that is, sleep a few hours on a hard bed and rise at midnight to go on to Halapa. But to this arrangement I for one made vociferous objections, and strongly insisted upon the propriety and feasibility of sleeping at Halapa that night. Don Miguel, the most obsequious of dons, declared that it should be exactly as the senora had ordered. Accordingly it was agreed that we should wait for the moon and then pursue our journey, and meanwhile we walked out a short distance to see the bridge, the river and the wood. The bridge consists of a single large arch thrown over the river, and communicating with a great high road, formerly paved, but now going to ruin. We return to the inn, a long row of small rooms built of brick and pretally situated, not far from the water. Here we had the luxury of water and towels, which enabled us to get rid of a certain portion of dust before we went to supper. The diligence from Halapa has just deposited at the inn a German with his wife and child, he bearing so decidedly the stamp of a German musician that we at once guessed his calling. They are from Mexico, from whence the fine arts seemed to be taking their flight, and gave a most woeful account of the road between this and Halapa. We had a very tolerable supper, soup, fish, fowls, steak and frijoles, all well seasoned with garlic and oil. The jolting had given me too bad a headache to care for more than coffee. We were strongly advised to remain the night there, but lazy people know too well what it is to rise in the middle of the night, especially when they are much fatigued. And when the moon rose, we packed ourselves once more into the diligence, sufficiently refreshed to encounter new fatigues. The moon was very bright, and most of the party prepared themselves for sleep, with cigars in their mouths, not a very easy matter, for the roads were infamous, a succession of holes and rocks. As we were gradually ascending, the weather became cooler, and from cool began to grow cold, forcing us to look out for cloaks and shawls. We could now discern some change in the vegetation, or rather a mingling of the trees of a colder climate with those of the tropics, especially the Mexican oak, which begins to flourish here. Fortunately at one part of the road, the moon enabled us to see the captain of the escort lying on the ground fast asleep, his horse standing quietly beside him, he having fallen off while asleep and continued his nap. The soldiers shook him up with some difficulty. At Karalfalso we changed mules, and from the badness of the road continued to go slowly. The cold increased, and at last by the moonlight we had a distinct view of the peak of Orisava, with his white nightcap on, excused the simile, suggested by extreme sleepiness, the very sight enough to make one shiver. As we approached Halapa, the scene was picturesque, the escort had put on their sarapes, and with their high helmets and feathers, went galloping along and dashing amongst the trees and shrubs. Orisava and the cofre de Perote shone white in the distance, while a delicious smell of flowers, particularly of roses, gave token of the land through which we were passing. It was nearly two in the morning when we reached Halapa, tired to death and shivering with cold. Greatly we rejoiced as we rattled through its mountainous streets, and still more when we found ourselves in a nice clean inn, with brick floors and decent small beds, and everything prepared for us. The sight of a fire would have been too much luxury, however, they gave us some hot tea and very shortly after, I at least can answer for myself, that I was in bed and enjoying the most delightful sleep that I have had since I left New York. This morning the diligence being at our disposal would not rise by break of day, but on the contrary, continued to sleep till eight o'clock. I was waited on by such a nice, civil, clean little old woman that I should like to carry her off with me. Meanwhile various authorities of the town were stationed at the door to give Sien welcome when he should appear. Our breakfast was delicious. Such fresh eggs and fresh butter and good coffee and well-fried chickens, moreover such good bread and peculiarly excellent water, that we fell very much in love with Halapa. After breakfast we walked out accompanied by various gentlemen of the place. The town consists of little more than a few steep streets, very old with some large and excellent houses, the best as usual belonging to English merchants, and many to those of Veracruz, who come to live in or near Halapa, during the reign of the Vomito. There are some old churches, a very old convent of Franciscan monks, and a well-supplied marketplace. Everywhere there are flowers, roses creeping over the old walls, Indian girls making green garlands for the virgin and saints, flowers in the shops, flowers at the windows, but above all, everywhere one of the most splendid mountain views in the world. The Coffre de Perote with its dark pine forests and gigantic chest, a rock of porphyry which takes that form, and the still, loftier snow-white peak of Orisava, tower above all the others, seeming like the colossal guardians of the land. The intervening mountains, the dark cliffs and fertile plains, the thick woods of lofty trees closing the hills and the valleys, a glimpse of the distant ocean, the surrounding lanes shaded by fruit trees, aloes, bananas, cherimoyas, mingled with the green liquid amber, the flowering myrtle, and hundreds of plants and shrubs and flowers of every color and of delicious fragrance all combined to form one of the most varied and beautiful scenes that the eye can behold. Then Halapa itself saw old and gray and rosy be covered with a sound of music issuing from every open door and window, and a soft and agreeable temperature presents even in a few hours a series of agreeable impressions not easily effaced. But we are now returned to our inn for it is near noon and the veil of clouds that earlier in the morning enveloped Orisava has passed away, leaving its wide summit environed by a flood of light. I shall probably have no opportunity of riding until we reach Puebla. Puebla, 24th. Yesterday morning we took leave of the jalapenos and once more found ourselves en route. Such a view of the mountains as we ascended this steep road, and such flowers and blossoming trees and all sides, large scarlet blossoms and hanging purple and white flowers, and trees covered with the fragrant bell-shaped flowers like lilies, which the people here call the floripondio, together with a profusion of double pink roses that made the air fragrant as we passed, and here and there a church, a ruined convent, or a white hacienda. We had the advantage of clear weather not always to be found at Halapa, especially when the north wind blowing at Veracruz covers this city and its environs with a dense fog. We stopped at a small village to change horses, for on leaving Halapa our mules were exchanged for eight strong white horses, and here Don Miguel made us enter a very pretty house, belonging to some female friends of his, one of whom was very handsome, with a tasteful white turban. The curiosity of this place is a rock behind the house, covered with roses, clove carnations, and every variety of bright flower-tree, together with oranges, lemons, limes, and cedrats, all growing out of the rock. The ladies are very civil, though I daresay surprised at our admiration of their December flowers, and gave us orangeade and cake, with large cedrats and oranges from the trees, but above all the most delicious bouquet of roses and carnations, so that together with the unknown scarlet and purple blossoms which the captain of the escort had gathered for me, the diligence inside looked like an arbor. We continued our journey, the road ascending towards the table-land, and at one striking point of view we got out and looked back upon Halapa, and round upon a panorama of mountains. Gradually the vegetation changed, fine fresh-looking European herbage and trees exceeded the less hardy, though more brilliant trees and flowers of the tropics. The banana and cherry-moya gave place to the strong oak and higher steel, this were interspersed with the dark green of the pine. At San Miguel de los Soldados we stopped to take some refreshment. The country became gradually more bleak, and before arriving at the village of Las Vegas nearly all trees had disappeared, but the hardy fir which flourishes amongst the rocks. The ground for about two leagues was covered with lava and great masses of black calcined rock, so that was seemed to be passing over the crater of a volcano. This part of the country is deservedly called the Malpais, and the occasional crosses with their faded garlands that gleam in these bleak volcanic regions give token that it may have yet other titles to the name of evil land. The roses and carnations that I had brought from Halapa were still unwithered, so that in a few hours we had passed through the whole scale of vegetation. The road became steep and dreary, and after passing Cruz Blanca, accepting occasional corn fields and somber pine forests, the scene had no objects of interest sufficient to enable us to keep our eyes open. The sun was set, it grew dusk, and by the time we reached Perote, where we were to pass the night, most of us had fallen into an uncomfortable sleep, very cold and quite stupefied and too sleepy to be hungry, in spite of finding a large supper prepared for us. The inn was dirty, very unlike that at Halapa, the bed's miserable, and we were quite ready to get up by the light of an unhappy specimen of tallow, which the landlord brought to our doors at two in the morning. There are some scenes which can never be faced from our memory, and such a one was that which took place this morning at Perote two o'clock, the moon and the stars shining bright and cold. Being dressed, I went into the kitchen where Sien, the officers of the Jason, Don Miguel, and the Mexican captain of the last night's escort were sampled by the light of one melancholy's sloping candle. Together with a suspicious-looking landlord and a few sleepy Indian women with bare feet, tangled hair, copper faces, and riboses, they made of some chocolate with goat's milk, horrid in general, and rancid in particular. It appeared that all parties were at a stand still, for by some mistake in the orders the new escort had not arrived, and the escort of the preceding night could go no further. Don Miguel, with his swarthy face and great sarape, was stalking about rather out of humour, while the captain was regretting in very polite tones, with his calm, Arab-looking, impassive face, that his escort could proceed no further. He seemed to think it extremely probable that we should be robbed, believed, indeed had just heard it asserted, that a party of ladrones were looking out for El Señor Ministro, regretted that he could not assist us, though quiet at our service, and recommended us to wait until the next escort should arrive. To this advice our conductor would by no means listen. He was peaked that any detention should occur, and yet aware that it was unsafe to go on. He had promised to convey us safely, and in four days, to Mexico, and it was necessary to keep his word. Someone proposed that two of the men should accompany the diligence upon mules, as probably a couple of these animals might be procured. The captain observed that though entirely at our disposal, two men could be of no manner of use, as, in case of attack, resistance except with a large escort was worse than useless. Nevertheless, it was remarked by some ingenious person, that the robbers seen too might imagine that there were more behind. In short, there were various opinions. One proposed that they should go on the coach, another that they should go in it. Here I ventured into pose begging that they might ride on mules or go outside, but by no means within. As usual it was as the senora pleased. At length we all collected before the door of the inn, and a queer group we must have made by the light of the moon, and a nice caricature I thought to myself, our friend Mr. G would have made of us had he been there. The diligence with eight white horses and a Yankee coachman originally, no doubt called brown, but now answering to the melifluous appellation of Bruno, A with her French cap and loaded with sundry mysterious looking baskets, I with cloak and bonnet, C. N. with Greek cap, cloak and cigar, the captain of the jason also with cloak and cigar and very cold, the lieutenant in his navy uniform, taking it coolly, Don Miguel with his great sarape and silver hat, six people belonging to five different countries, the Mexican captain with his pale impassive face and moustaches, enveloped in a very handsome sarape, and surrounded by the sleepy escort of the preceding night, dirty looking soldiers lounging on the ground wrapped in their blankets, the Indian women and the host of the inn, and a bright moon and starry sky lighting up the whole, the figures in the foreground and the lofty snow-clad mountains, and the dismal old town of Perote itself that looked grey and sulky at being disturbed so early with its old castle of San Carlos and cold sterile plains. Meanwhile two soldiers with cloaks and arms had climbed up outside of the coach. The captain remarked that they could not sit there. Bruno made some reply upon which the captain very coolly drew his sword, and was about to put a very decided impediment to our journey by stabbing the coachman, when Don Miguel, his eyes and cigar all shining angrily rushed in between them. High words ensued between him and the captain, and the extreme coolness and precision with which the latter spoke was very amusing. It was as if he were rehearsing a speech from a play. I always speak frankly, said Don Miguel, in an angry tone, and I, said the captain, in a polite measured voice, am also accustomed to speak my mind with extreme frankness. I regret, however, that I did not at the moment perceive the senora at the door otherwise, etc. At length the two little men, who with their arms and sarapes looked like bundles of ammunition and who, half asleep, had been by some zealous person, probably by our friend Bruno, tumbled upon the diligence like packages, were now rolled off it and finally tumbled upon mules, and we got into the coach. Don Miguel, with his head out of the window and not very easy in his mind, called up the two bundles and gave them directions as to their line of conduct in a stage whisper, and they trotted off, primed with valor, while we, very cold, and, I answer for myself, rather frightened, proceeded on our way. The earliness of the hour was probably our salvation, as we started two hours before the usual time, and thus gained at march upon the gentlemen of the road. We were not sorry, however, when at our first halting place and whilst we were changing horses, we described a company of Lancers at full gallop, with a very good-looking officer at their head, coming along the road, though when first I heard the sound of horses' hooves clattering along, and by the faint light discerned the horsemen enveloped as they were in a cloud of dust, I felt sure they were a party of robbers. The captain made many apologies for the delay and proceeded to inform us that the alcaldes of Depeyagualco, La Ventilla, and of some other villages, whose names I forgot, had for twenty days prepared a breakfast in expectation of his excellence as a rival, whether twenty breakfasts, or the same one cold or rechofe, we may never know. The captain had a very handsome horse, which he caused to caracoler by the side of the diligence, and put at my disposal with a low bow every time I looked at it. He discoursed with Sien of robbers and wars and of the different sides which these gentry most affected, and told him how his first wife had been shot by following him in some engagement, yet how his second wife invariably followed him also. Arrived at Depeyagualco after having passed over a succession of sterile planes covered with scanty pasture, an alcaldes advanced to meet the diligence and hospitably made Sien an offer of the before mentioned, twenty days' entertainment, which he with many thanks declined. Who ate that breakfast is buried in the past, whether the alcaldes was glad or sorry, did not appear. He vanished with a profusion of bows, and was followed by a large good-looking Indian woman, who stood behind him while he made his discourse. Perhaps they ate together, the long-prepared feast, which was at least one of the many tributes paid to the arrival of the first messenger of peace from the mother country. At La Ventilla, however, we descended with a good appetite and found several authorities waiting to give Sien a welcome. Here they gave us delicious cerimoyas, a natural custard, which we liked even upon a first trial, also granaditas, bananas, sapotes, etc. Here also I first tasted pulque, and on a first impression it appears to me that as nectar was the drink in Olympus we may fairly conjecture that Pluto cultivated the mague in his dominions. The taste and smell combined took me so completely by surprise that I am afraid my look of horror must have given mortal offence to the worthy alcaldes who considers it the most delicious beverage in the world, and in fact it is said that when one gets over the first shock it is very agreeable. The difficulty must consist in getting over it. After a tolerable breakfast, hunger making chili and garlic supportable, we continued our route and were informed that the robbers had been grown very daring, and the next stage, being very dangerous, our escort was to be doubled. Since we left Perote the country had gradually become more dreary and we had again got into the Malpais, where nothing is to be seen but a few fir trees and pines, dark and stunted, black masses of lava, and an occasional white cross to mark either where a murder had been committed, or where a celebrated robber has been buried. Of each Don Miguel gave us a succinct account. Some lines of chilly heralds suit this scene as it written for it. And here and there, as up the crags you spring, mark many rude carved crosses near the path, yet deem not these devotions offering. These are memorials frail of murderous wrath. For where so where the shrieking victim hath poured forth his blood beneath the assassin's knife, some hand erects a cross of mouldering laugh, and grove and glen with thousand such arrive. Throughout this purple land were law-secures not life. The whole scene was wild and grand, yet dreary and monotonous, presenting the greatest contrast possible to our first day's journey. The only signs of life to be met with were the long strings of aryeros with their droves of mules, and an occasional Indian hut with a few miserable half-naked women and children. At one small wild looking inn, where very cold and miserable we stopped, some hot wine was brought us, which was very acceptable. The tavern keeper, for it was no more than a spirit shop, if not a robber, had all the appearance of one, wild, melancholy, and with a most sinister expression of countenance. Salvatore never drew a more bandit-looking figure, as he stood there with his blanket and slouched hat, and a knife in his belt, tall and thin and muscular, with his salo visage and his sad, fierce eyes. However, he showed us the marks on his door, or a band of twenty robbers had broken in one night and robbed some travellers who were sleeping there, of a large sum of money. C. Anne asked him how the robbers treated the women when they fell into their power. La saludan, said he, and sometimes carried them off to the mountains, but rarely, and chiefly when they are afraid of their giving information against them. At Ojo de Agua, where we changed horses, we saw the accommodations which those who travel in private coach or litera must submit to, unless they bring their own beds along with them, and a stock of provisions besides a common room like a barn, where all must herd together, and neither chair nor table nor food to be had. It was a solitary-looking house, standing lonely on the plain, with a few straggling sheep nibbling the brown grass in the vicinity. A fine spring of water from which it takes its name, and Orizaya, which seems to have travelled forward, and stands in bold outline against the sapphire sky, were all that we saw there, worthy notice. We changed horses at Nopaluka, Acajete, and Omosoke, all small villages with little more than the Posada, and a few poor houses, and all very dirty. The country, however, improves in cultivation and fertility, though the chief trees are the somber pines. Still accompanied by our two escorts, which had a very grand eloquent effect, we entered, by four o'clock, Puebla de los Ángeles, the second city to Mexico, after Guadalajara, in the republic where we found very fine apartments prepared for us in the inn, and where, after a short rest and a fresh toilet, we went out to see what we could of the city before it grew dusk, before it actually became what it now is, Christmas Eve. It certainly does require some time for the eye to become accustomed to the style of building adopted in the Spanish colonies. There is something at first sight, exceedingly desolate looking in these great wooden doors, like those of immense barns, the great iron-barred windows, the ill-paved courtyards, even the flat roofs, and then the streets where, though this is a fete, we see nothing but groups of peasants or beggars, the whole gives the idea of a total absence of comfort. Yet the streets of Puebla are clean and regular, the houses large, the cathedral magnificent, and the plaza spacious and handsome. The cathedral was shut, and is not to be open till midnight mass, which I regret the less as we must probably return here some day. The dress of the poblana peasants is pretty, especially on feta days. A white muslin chemise trimmed with lace around the skirt, neck and sleeves, which are plated neatly, a petticoat shorter than the chemise and divided into two colours. The lower part made generally of a scarlet and black stuff, a manufacturer of the country, and the upper part of yellow satin with a satin vest of some bright colour, and covered with gold or silver, open in front and turned back. This vest may be worn or omitted, as suits the taste of the wearer. It is without sleeves, but has straps, the hair plated in two behind, and the plates turned up and fastened together by a diamond ring, long earrings and all sorts of chains and metals and tinkling things worn round the neck. A long broad, collared sash, something like an officer's belt, tied behind after going twice or thrice round the waist, into which is stuck a silver cigar case. A small coloured handkerchief like a broad ribbon, crossing over the neck, is fastened in front with a brooch, the ends trimmed with silver, and going through the sash. Overall is thrown a riboso, not over the head, but thrown on like a scarf, and they wear silk stockings, or more commonly, no stockings and white satin shoes trimmed with silver. This is on holidays. On communications the dress is the same, but the materials are more common, at least the vest with silver is never worn, but the chemise is still trimmed with lace, and the shoes are satin. Christmas Eve in Puebla. The room is filled with visitors, who have come to congratulate Sien on his arrival, and a wonderfully handsome room it is, to do it justice, with chairs and sofas of scarlet stuff. But I was anxious to see something. As we are to leave Puebla very early I am prohibited from going to the midnight mass. I propose a theatre where there is to be a nacimiento, a representation in figures of various events connected with the birth of Christ, such as the Annunciation, the Holy Family, the arrival of the wise men of the East, etc. But after some deliberation it was agreed that this would not do, so finding that there is nothing to be done and tired of polite conversation I could take myself to bed. Christmas Day It is now about three o'clock, but I was awakened an hour ago by the sounds of the hymns which ushered in Christmas morning, and looking from the window saw by the faint light bands of girls dressed in white singing in chorus through the streets. We have just taken chocolate and amidst a profusion of boughs and civilities from the landlord are preparing to set off for Mexico. End of Letter V. Letter VI 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 VI. Departure from Puebla. Chirimoyas. Rio Frio. Indian Game. Black Forest. Valley of Mexico. Recollections of Tenochtitlan. Mexican Officer. Reception. Scenery. Variety of dresses. Cheers. Storm of rain. Entry to Mexico. Buena Vista. House by daylight. Sites from the windows. Visits. Mexican etiquette. Countess C. Flowers in December. Serenade. Patriotic hymn. Mexico. 26th December. We left Puebla between four and five in the morning as we purposely made some delay, not wishing to reach Mexico too early, and in so doing acted contrary to the advice of Don Miguel, who was generally right in these matters. The day was very fine when we set off, though rain was predicted. Some of the gentlemen had gone to the theatre the night before to see the nacimiento, and the audience had been composed entirely of gentusa, the common people, who were drinking brandy and smoking, so it was fortunate that we had not shown our faces there. The country was now flat but fertile, and had on the whole more of a European look than any we had yet passed through. At Río Prieto, a small village, where we changed horses, I found that I had been sitting very comfortably with my feet in a basket of cherry-moyas, and that marborequines, white gown, and cloak had all been drenched with the milky juice, and then made black by the floor of the diligence. With no small difficulty a trunk was brought down, and another dress procured to the great amusement of the Indian women, who begged to know if my gown was the latest fashion, and said it was muy guapa, very pretty. Here we found good hot coffee, and it being Christmas day everyone was cleaned and dressed for mass. At Río Prieto, which is about thirteen leagues from Mexico, and where there is a pretty good posada, in a valley surrounded by woods, we stopped to dine. The inn was kept by a bordelais and her husband, who wished themselves in Bordeaux twenty times a day. In front of the house some Indians were playing at a curious and very ancient game, a sort of swing resembling el juego de los voladores, the game of the flyers much in vogue amongst the ancient makens. Our French hostess gave us a good dinner, especially excellent potatoes and jelly of various sorts, regaling us with plenty of stories of robbers and robberies, and horrid murders all the while. On leaving Río Prieto the road became more hilly and covered with woods, and we shortly entered the tract known by the name of the Black Forest, a great haunt for Banditi, and a beautiful specimen of forest scenery, a succession of lofty oaks, pines, and cedars, with wild flowers lighting up their gloomy green. But I confess that the impatience which I felt to see Mexico, the idea that in a few hours we should actually be there, prevented me from enjoying the beauty of the scenery, and made the road appear interminable. But at length we arrived at the heights looking down upon the great valley, celebrated in all parts of the world with its framework of everlasting mountains, its snow-crowned volcanoes, great lakes and fertile plains, all surrounding the favoured city of Montezuma, the proudest boast of its conqueror, one of Spain's many diadems, the brightest. But the day had overcast, nor is this the most favourable road for entering Mexico. The innumerable spires of the distant city were faintly seen, the volcanoes were enveloped in clouds, all but their snowy summits which seemed like marble domes towering into the sky. But as we strained our eyes to look into the valley, it all appeared to me rather like a vision of the past than the actual breathing present. The curtain of time seemed to roll back and to discover to us the great panorama that burst upon the eye of Cortez when he first looked down upon the table and the king-loving, God-fearing conqueror, his loyalty and religion so blended after the fashion of ancient Spain that it were hard to say which sentiment exercised over him the greatest way. The city of Tecnotitlan, standing in the midst of the five great lakes upon verdant and flower-covered islands, a western Venice with thousands of boats gliding swiftly along its streets, long lines of low houses diversified by the multitudes of pyramidal temples that Teocali or houses of God canoes covering the mirrored lakes, the lofty trees, the flowers, and the profusion of water now wanting to the landscape, the whole fertile valley enclosed by its eternal hills and snow-crowned volcanoes, what scenes of wonder and of beauty to burst upon the eyes of these way-faring men. Then the beautiful gardens surrounding the city, the profusion of flowers and fruit, and birds, the mild bronze-coloured emperor himself advancing in the midst of his Indian nobility with rich dress and unshod feet to receive his unbidden and unwelcome guest, the slaves and the gold and the rich plumes all to be laid at the feet of his most sacred majesty, what pictures are called up by the recollection of the simple narrative of Cortes and how forcibly they return to the mind now, when, after a lapse of three centuries, we behold for the first time the city of palaces raised upon the ruins of the Indian capital. It seemed scarcely possible that we were indeed so near the conclusion of our journey and in the midst of so different a scene, only two months minus two days since leaving New York and stepping aboard the Norma, how much land and sea we had passed over since then, how much we had seen, how many different climates even in the space of the last four days. But my thoughts which had wandered three centuries into the past were soon recalled to the present by the arrival of an officer in full uniform at the head of his troop, who came out by order of the government to welcome the bearer of the olive branch from ancient Spain and had been on horseback since the day before expecting our arrival. As it had begun to rain, the officer, Col. Miguel Andrande, accepted our offer of taking shelter in the diligence. We had now a great troop galloping along with us and had not gone far before we perceived that in spite of the rain and that it already began to grow dusk, there were innumerable carriages and horsemen forming an immense crowd, all coming to welcome us. Shortly after the diligence was stopped and we were requested to get into a very splendid carriage, all crimson and gold, with the arms of the Republic, the eagle and nopal embroidered in gold on the roof inside and drawn by forehands some white horses. In the midst of this immense procession of troops, carriages and horsemen, we made our entry into the city of Montezuma. The scenery on this side of Mexico is arid and flat and where the waters of the lagunas covered with their gay canoes once surrounded the city, forming canals through its streets we now see melancholy marshy lands little enlivened by great floods of wild duck and waterfowl. But the bleakness of the natural scenery was concealed by the gay appearance of the procession, the scarlet and gold uniforms, the bright-colored sarapes, the dresses of the gentlemen, most, I believe, Spaniards, with their handsome horses, high Mexican saddles, gold embroidered ankeras, generally of black fur, their Mexican hats ornamented with gold, richly furred jackets, pantaloons with hanging silver buttons, stamped leather boots, silver stirrups and graceful mangas with black or colored velvet capes. At the gates of Mexico the troops halted and three enthusiastic cheers were given as the carriage entered. It was now nearly dusk and the rain was falling in torrents, yet we met more carriages full of ladies and gentlemen which joined the others. We found that a house in the suburbs at Buena Vista had been taken for us, provisoiriment by the kindness of the Spaniards, especially of a rich merchant who accompanied us in the carriage, Don M. M. del C. Consequently we passed all through Mexico before reaching our destination, always in the midst of the crowd, on account of which and of the ill-paved streets we went very slowly. Through the rain and the darkness we got an occasional faint lamplight, glimpse of high buildings, churches and convents. Arrived at length in the midst of torrents of rain, C. N. got out of the carriage and returned thanks for his reception, giving some ounces to the sergeant for the soldiers. We then entered the house, accompanied by the Mexican officer and by a large party of Spaniards. We found the house very good, especially considering that it had been furnished for us in eight and forty hours, and we also found an excellent supper smoking on the table, after doing justice to which we took leave of our friends, and very tired, prepared for sleep. The servants and luggage arrived late. They had been left with a diligence under the guardianship of Don Miguel, and it appeared that the robbers had mingled with the crowd and followed in hopes of plunder. In so much he had been obliged to procure two carriages, one for the servants while into another he put the luggage, mounting in front himself to look out. Tired enough the poor man was, and drenched with rain, and we found that much of this confusion and difficulty which was chiefly caused by the storm and darkness would have been avoided had we left Puebla some hours sooner. However, all's well that ends well. I thought of Christmas in Merry England and of our family gatherings in the olden time, and as if one had not travelled enough in the body, began travelling in the mind a way too far different and distant, and long gone by scenes, fell asleep at length with my thoughts in Scotland, and wakened in Mexico. By daylight we find our house very pretty, with a large garden adjoining full of flowers and rose bushes in the courtyard, but being all on the ground floor it is somewhat damp, and the weather, though beautiful, is so cool in the morning that carpets and I sometimes think even a subcon of fire would not be amiss. The former we shall soon procure, but there are neither chimneys nor grates, and I have no doubt a fire would be disagreeable for more than an hour or so in the morning. The house stands alone with a large court before it, and opposite to it passes the great stone aqueduct, a magnificent work of the Spaniards, though not more so, probably, than those which supplied the ancient to Noctitlan with water. Behind it we see nothing but several old houses with trees, so that we assume almost in the country. To the right is one large building with garden and olive ground, where the English legation formerly lived, a palace in size since occupied by Santa Anna, and which now belongs to Sr. Perez Galvez, a house which we shall be glad to have, if the proprietor will consent to let it. But what most attracts our attention are the curious and picturesque groups of figures which we see from the windows. Men, bronze color with nothing but a piece of blanket thrown round them, carrying lightly on their heads earthen basins, precisely the color of their own skin, so that they look altogether like figures of terracotta, these basins filled with sweetmeats or white pyramids of grease, mantequilla, women with ribosos, short petticoats of two colors, generally all in rags, yet with a lace border appearing on their undergarment. No stockings and dirty white satin shoes, rather shorter than their small brown feet. Gentlemen on horseback with their Mexican sandals and sarapes, lounging leperos, moving bundles of rags, coming to the windows and begging, with a most piteous but false-sounding wine, or lying under the arches and lazily inhaling the air, and the sunshine or sitting at the door for hours, basking in the sun or under the shadow of the wall. Indian women with their tight petticoat of dark stuff and tangled hair, plaited with red ribbon laying down their baskets to rest, and meanwhile deliberately examining the hair of their copper-colored offspring. We have enough to engage our attention for the present. Several visitors came early, gentlemen, both Spaniards and Mexicans. Señor A. Z. decidedly the ugliest man I ever beheld, with a hump on his back and a smile of most potentious hidiocity, yet celebrated for his bonds fortunes. Señor D. G. A. ex-minister of the treasury extremely witty and agreeable, and with some celebrity as a dramatic writer. Count C. A. formally attached to the bedchamber in Spain, married to a pretty Andalusian and entirely Mexicanized, his heart where his interests are. He is very gentlemanlike and distinguished looking, with good manners and extremely eloquent in conversation. I hear him called inconsequente and capricious, but he has welcomed C. A. who knew him intimately in Madrid, with all the warmth of ancient friendship. We are told that a great serenade has been for some time in contemplation to be given to C. N., the words music and performance by the young Spaniards here. Twenty-seventh. A day or two must elapse before I can satisfy my curiosity by going out, while the necessary arrangements are making concerning carriage and horses or mules, servants, etc. Our vehicles from the United States not having yet arrived, nor is it difficult to foresee, even from once passing through the streets, that only the more solid-built English carriages will stand the wear and tear of a Mexican life, and that the comparatively flimsy coaches which roll over the well-paved streets of New York will not endure for any length of time. Meanwhile we have constant visits, but chiefly from gentlemen and from Spaniards, for there is one piece of etiquette entirely Mexican, nor can I imagine from whence arrived, by which it is ordained that all new arrivals would ever be their rank, foreign ministers not exempted, must in solemn print give notice to every family of any consideration in the capital, that they have arrived and offer themselves and their house to their disposition, failing in which etiquette the newly arrived family will remain unnoticed and unknown. Our cards to this effect are consequently being printed under the auspices of Count C.A. I have, however, received the visits of some ladies who have kindly waived this ceremony in my favor, and amongst others, from the dowager and the young countess of C.A., the eldest, a very distinguished woman of great natural talent, one of the true ladies of the old school, of whom not many specimens now remain in Mexico. The other extremely pretty, lively and amiable, a true and delusion both in beauty and wit. The old countess was dressed in black velvet, black blonde mantilla, diamond rings and bruce, her daughter-in-law also in black, with a mantilla, and she had a pretty little daughter with her, whose eyes will certainly produce a kindling effect on the next generation. They were both extremely kind and cordial, if there are many such persons in Mexico, we shall have no reason to complain. I hope I am not seeing the cream before the milk. Some Mexican visits appeared to me to surpass in duration all that one can imagine of a visit, rarely lasting less than one hour, and sometimes extending over a greater part of the day. And gentlemen at least arrive at no particular time. If you are going to breakfast, they go also, if to dinner, the same. If you are asleep, they wait till you awaken. If out, they call again. An indifferent sort of man, whose name I did not even hear, arrived yesterday. A little after breakfast, sat still and walked into a late dinner with us. These should not be called visits but visitations, though I trust they do not often occur to that extent. An open house and an open table for your friends, which includes every passing acquaintance, these are merely Spanish habits of hospitality transplanted. Had a visit from Señor Blanc and his wife, very civil and obliging people, always agreeing with each other and with you and with all the world, almost to the extent of Polonius to Hamlet, our conversation reminded me of that, the whole time they were here. I have just brought from the garden a lap full of pink roses, clove carnations and sweet peas. Rosetta could not sing here, for June and December will never agree. The weather is lovely, the air fresh and clear, the sky, one vast expanse of bright blue without a single cloud. Early this morning it was cool, but now by ten o'clock the air is as soft and balmy as on a summer day with us. Twenty-eighth. Day of the memorable serenade. After dinner some ladies paid me a visit, amongst others the wife and daughter of the Spanish consul, Señor M.Y., who were accompanied by the sister of Count A.A. They and a few gentlemen arrived about six o'clock, and it was said that the serenade would not begin till twelve. It may be supposed that our conversation, however agreeable it might be, would scarcely hold out that time. In fact, by nine o'clock we were all nearly overcome by sleep, and by ten I believe we were already in a refreshing slumber when we were awakened by the sound of crowds assembling before the door, and of carriages arriving and stopping. Not knowing who the occupants might be we could not invite them in, which seemed very inhospitable, as the night, though fine, was cold and chilly. About eleven the Count and Count C.A. arrived, and the Señor A.D.G., a remarkably handsome woman, a Spaniard, looking nearly as young as her daughters, also the pretty daughters of the proprietress of this house, who was a beauty and is married to her third husband, and a lively little talkative person, the Señor A.D.L.N., all Spanish, and who, some on that account and others from their husbands, having been former friends of C.A.N.s, have not waited for the ceremony of receiving cards. Gradually, however, several Mexican ladies whom we had sent out to invite came in. Others remained in their carriages, excusing themselves on the plea of their not-being and toilette. We had men, a discretion, and the rooms were crowded. About midnight arrived a troupe of Mexican soldiers carrying torches and a multitude of musicians, both amateur and professional, chiefly the former, and men carrying music stands, violins, violoncellos, French horns, etc., together with an immense crowd mingled with numbers of leperos so that the great space in front of the house as far as the aqueduct, and all beyond and along the street as far as we could see, was covered with people and carriages. We threw open the windows which are on a level with the ground, with large balconies and wide iron gratings, and the scene by the torchlight was very curious. The Mexican troops holding lights for the musicians, and they of various countries, Spanish, German, and Mexican, the leperos with their ragged blankets and wild eyes that gleamed in the light of the torches, the ladies within and the crowd without, all formed a very amusing spectacle. At length the musicians struck up in full chorus, accompanied by the whole orchestra. The voices were very fine, and the instrumental music so good I could hardly believe that almost all were amateur performers. A hymn which had been composed for the occasion, and of which we had received an elegantly bound copy in the morning, was particularly effective. The music was composed by Señor Retes, and the words by Señor Covo, both Spaniards. Various overtures from the last operas were played, and at the end of what seemed to be the first act, in the midst of deafening applause from the crowd, C. N. made me return thanks from the window in beautiful impromptu Spanish. Then came shouts of Viva la España, and Viva Isabel Segunda, Viva el Ministro de España. Great and continued cheering. Then C. N. gave in return, Viva la República Mexicana, Viva Bustamente, and the shouting was tremendous. At last an undilusion in the crowd shouted out, Viva toro al mundo. Long live everybody, which piece of wit was followed by general laughter. After hot punch and cigars had been handed about out of doors, a necessary refreshment in this cold night, the music recommenced, and the whole ended with a national hymn of Spain with appropriate words. A young Spanish girl whose voice is celebrated here was then entreated by those within and besieged by those without to sing alone the hymn composed in honor of C. N., which she naturally felt some hesitation in doings before such an immense audience. However she consented at last, and in a voice like a clarion accompanied by the orchestra, sung each verse alone, joined in the chorus by the whole crowd, I give you a copy. Hymno Patriotico, que varios españoles residentes en México, dedican al esmo, Señor Don E.C. de la Barca, ministro plenipotentiario de SMC en la República, con motivo de su llegada a Dica Capital. Música del Señor J. N. de Retes, palabras del Señor D. N. Juancovo, coro. Trionfamos amigos, trionfamos en fin, y libre respir la patria del Cid, la gusta Cristina, de España embelezo, el más tierno beso, imprimer a Isabel. Irena le dice, no es sobre esclavos, sobre hiberos bravos, sobre en pueblo fiel. Trionfamos amigos, etc. Donde está de Carlos, la perfida juez de, un rayo celeste, pulvo latorno, rayo que al malvado, hundio en el abismo, rayo que al acarlismo, libertad lanso. Trionfamos amigos, etc. Al bravo cuadillo, al bueno, al valiente, signamos la frente, dimirto y laurel, tu diestra animosa, heroico, guerrero, tu diestra es partero, su julgo, al infiel. Trionfamos amigos, etc. Verancia Cataras, nuestras santas leyes, temblaran los reyes de España al pudor, y el cetro de Oprobrio, si impuna en tirano, de su infame mano, le haremos caer. Trionfamos amigos, etc. Saluda Isabela, saluda Cristina, que el al cielo destina, la patria a salvar, y el lebre corone, la candida frente, de aquella inocente que juro a parar. Trionfamos amigos, etc. Y tu mensajero de paz y ventura, oye la voz pura, de nuestra lealtad, oye los accentos que al cielo elevamos, oye cual gritamos, patria, libertad, truinfamos amigos, etc. Tu el símbolo digno será cien, de grata reunión, de eterna amistad, que ya en ambos mundos la insana discordía, trucose en concordia y fraternidad, truinfamos amigos, etc. Translation Patriotic Hymn, which various Spaniards resident in Mexico, dedicate to his Excellency, Señor Don A.C. de la Barca, minister, plenipotentiary and envoy extraordinary from H.C.M. to the Republic to celebrate his arrival in this capital. The music by Señor Don J. N. de Retes, the words by Señor Don Juan Covo. Chorus Let us triumph, my friends, let us triumph at length, and let the country of the seed breathe freely again. The August Cristina, the ornament of Spain, imprinted the most tender kiss on the cheek of Isabel. And rain, she said to her, not now over slaves, but over brave Iberians, over a faithful people. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. Where is the perfidious army of Carlos? A celestial thunderbolt has turned it to dust, a thunderbolt which plunged the wicked one into the abyss, a thunderbolt which liberty launched against Carlysm. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. Of the brave chief, of the good, the valiant, let us gird the forehead with myrtle and laurel. Thy brave right hand, heroic warrior, thy right hand, es partero, subdue the disloyal one. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. Our holy laws will be acknowledged, and kings will tremble at the power of Spain, and should attire and grasp the scepter of our proverb from his infamous hand we shall cause it to fall. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. Health to Isabella, health to Cristina, whom heaven has disdained to save the country, and may freely crown the white forehead of the innocent princess he swore to protect. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. And thou messenger of peace and joy, hear the pure voice of our loyalty, hear the accents which we raise to heaven, hear what we cry, country, liberty. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. Thou, Sien, shalt be the worthy symbol of grateful reunion of eternal friendship, which already has changed in both worlds insane discord into concord and fraternity. Let us triumph, my friends, etc. The air was rent with vivas, and bravos, as the Señorita de Ef concluded. Her voice was beautiful, and after the first moment of embarrassment she sang with much spirit and enthusiasm. This was the finale of the serenade, and then the serenaders were invited in, and were in such numbers that the room could scarcely hold them all. More cigars, more punch, more giving of thanks. About three o'clock the crowd began to disperse, and at length, after the Spanish leave-takings, which are really no joke, had ended, Captain E., C. N., and I, all three excessively cold and shivering, having passed the night at the open windows, consoled ourselves with hot chocolate and punch, and went to dream of sweet sounding harmonies. Altogether it was a scene which I would not have missed for a great deal. The enthusiasm caused by the arrival of the first minister from Spain seems gradually to increase. The actors are to give him a Funcion Extraordinaria in the theatre, the Matadors, a bullfight extraordinary with fireworks. But in all this you must not suppose there is any personal compliment. It is merely intended as a mark of good will towards the first representative of the Spanish monarchy, who brings from the mother country the formal acknowledgement of Mejican independence. Later the seventh, Debu in Mexico, Cathedral, Temple of the Aztecs, Congregation, Stone of Sacrifices, Palace, Importionate Le Peros, Visit to the President, Countess C.A., Street of Crises, Tortilleras, Sartor de Sartos. I made my Debu in Mexico by going to Mass in the Cathedral. We drove through the Alameda, near which we live, and admired its noble trees, flowers and fountains all sparkling in the sun. We met but few carriages there, an occasional gentleman on horseback, and a few solitary looking people resting on the stone benches, also plenty of beggars and the 4K in chains, watering the avenues. We passed through the Calle San Francisco, the handsome street in Mexico, both as to shops and houses, containing, amongst others, the richly carved but now half-ruined palace of Yiturbide, and which terminates in the Great Square where stand the cathedral and the palace. The streets were crowded, it being a holiday, and the purity of the atmosphere with the sun pouring down upon the bright-colored groups, and these groups so picturesque, whether of soldiers or monks, peasants or veiled ladies, the very irregularity of the buildings, the number of fine churches and old convents. And everything on so grand a scale, even though touched by the finger of time, or crushed by the iron hill of revolution, that the attention is constantly kept alive, and the interest excited. The carriage drew up in front of the cathedral, built upon the site of part of the ruins of the great temple of the Aztecs, of that pyramidal temple constructed by Aujizodli, the sanctuary so celebrated by the Spaniards and which comprehended with all its different edifices and sanctuaries the ground on which the cathedral now stands, together with part of the plaza and streets adjoining. We are told that within its enclosure were five hundred dwellings, that its hall was built of stone and lime and ornamented with stone serpents. We hear of its four great gates, fronting the four cardinal points of its stone-paved court, great stone stairs and sanctuaries dedicated to the gods of war, of a square distinct for religious dances and the colleges for the priests and seminaries for the priestesses, of the horrible temple whose door was an enormous serpent's mouth, of the temple of mirrors and that of shells, of the house set apart for the emperor's prayers, of the consecrated fountains, the birds kept for sacrifice, the gardens for the holy flowers, and of the terrible towers composed of the skulls of the victims, strange mixture of the beautiful and the horrible. We are told that five thousand priests chanted night and day in the great temple to the honor and in the service of the monstrous idols who were anointed thrice a day with the most precious perfumes, and that of these priests, the most austere were clothed in black, their long hair dyed with ink, and their bodies anointed with the ashes of burnt scorpions and spiders, their chiefs were the sons of kings. It is remarkable by the way that their god of war, Mehetli, was said to have been born of a woman, a holy virgin who was in the service of the temple, and that when the priests, having knowledge of her disgrace, would have stoned her, a voice was heard saying, Fear not, mother, for I shall save thy honor and my glory, upon which the god was born, with a shield in his left hand, an arrow in his right, a plume of green feathers on his head, his face painted blue, and his left leg adorned with feathers. Thus was his gigantic statue represented. There were gods of the water, of the earth, of night, fire and hell, goddesses of flowers and of corn, there were oblations offered of bread and flowers and jewels, but we were assured that from twenty to fifty thousand human victims were sacrificed annually in Mexico alone. That these accounts are exaggerated even though a bishop is among the narrators, we can scarcely doubt, but if the tenth part be true, let the memory of Cortez be sacred who, with a cross, stopped the shedding of innocent blood, founded the cathedral on the ruins of the temple which had so often resounded with human groans, and in the place of these blood-smeared idols enshrined the mild form of the virgin. Meanwhile, we enter the Christian edifice which covers an immense space of ground, is of the Gothic form with the two lofty ornamented towers, and is still immensely rich in gold, silver and jewels. A balustrade running through it, which was brought from China, is said to be very valuable, but seems to me more curious than beautiful. It is a composition of brass and silver. Not a soul was in the sacred precincts this morning, but miserable leperos, in rags and blankets, mingled with women in ragged rebosos. At least a sprinkling of ladies with mantillas was so very slight, that I do not think there were half a dozen in all. The floor is so dirty that one kneels with a feeling of horror, and an inward determination to effect a speedy a change of garments afterwards as possible. Besides many of my Indian neighbors were engaged in an occupation which I must leave to your imagination, in fact, relieving their heads from the pressure of the colonial system, or rather eradicating and slaughtering the colonists, who swarmed there like the emigrant Irish in the United States. I was not sorry to find myself once more in the pure air after mass, and have since been told that, except on peculiar occasions and at certain hours, few ladies perform their devotions in the cathedral. I shall learn all these particulars in time. We saw, as we passed out, the Aztec calendar, a round stone covered with hieroglyphics, which is still preserved and fastened on the outside of the cathedral. We afterwards saw the stone of sacrifices, now in the courtyard of the university, with a hollow in the middle, in which the victim was laid, while six priests, dressed in red, their heads adorned with plumes of green feathers. They must have looked like macaws, with gold and green earrings and blue stones in their upper lips, held him down while the chief priest cut open his breast, through his heart at the feet of the idol, and afterwards put it into his mouth with a golden spoon. They then cut off his head, to make use of it in building the Tower of Skulls, eat some parts of him and either burnt the rest or threw it to the wild beasts, who were maintained in the palace. These interesting particulars occurred to us as we looked at the stone and we were not sorry to think that it is now more ornamental than useful. After leaving the cathedral, C. N. fastened on his orders in the carriage, as this day was appointed for his presentation to the president, and we drove to the place where I left him and returned home. He was received with great etiquette, a band of music playing in the court, the president in full uniform surrounded by all his ministers and aides to camp. Standing before a throne, under a velvet dais, his feet upon a tap-array, the whole being probably the same as was used by the Viseroyes. Viva la Repubblica! C. N. made a discourse to him and he made one in return, both of which may be found by those who are curious in these matters in that diario of the 31st December. Whilst I am writing a horrible lepero with great leering eyes is looking at me through the windows and performing the most extraordinary series of groans, displaying at the same time a hand with two long fingers, probably the other three tied in. Senorita, senorita, for the love of the most holy virgin, for the sake of the most pure blood of Christ, by the miraculous conception. The wretch, I dare not look up, but I feel that his eyes are fixed upon a gold watch and seals lying on the table. That is the worst of a house on the ground floor. There come more of them, a paralytic woman mounted on the back of a man with a long beard, a sturdy-looking individual who looks as if, worried not for the iron bars he would resort to more effective measures, is holding up a deformed foot which I verily believe is merely fastened back in some extraordinary way. What groans! What rags! What a chorus of whining! This concourse is probably owing to our having sent them some money yesterday. I try to take no notice and write on as if I were deaf. I must walk out of the room without looking behind me, and send the porter to disperse them. There are no bell-ropes in these parts. I come back again to write, hardly recovered from the start that I have just got. I had hardly written the last words when I heard a footstep near me, and, looking up low, there was my friend with the foot standing within a yard of me. His hand stretched out for alms. I was so frightened that for a moment I thought of giving him my watch to get rid of him. However, I glided past him with a few unintelligible words, and rushed to call the servant sending him some money by the first person who came. The porter, who had not seen him pass, is now dispersing the crowd. What for syphorous exclamations! A has come in and drawn the curtains, and I think they are going off. Yesterday evening I was taken to visit the president. The palace is an immense building, containing, besides the apartments of the president and his ministers, all the chief courts of justice. It occupies one side of the square, but is no way remarkable in its architecture. At the end of every flight of steps that we mounted we came upon lounging soldiers, in their yellow cloaks, and women in riboso standing about. We passed through a hall filled with soldiers into the antechamber, where we were received by several aides to camp, who conducted us into a very well furnished room, where we sat a few minutes till an officer came to lead us into the reception room, which is a handsome apartment, about a hundred feet long, and fitted up with crimson and gold, also well lighted. General Bustamente, now in plain clothes, gave us a very cordial reception. He looks like a good man, with an honest, benevolent face, frank and simple in his manners, and not at all like a hero. His conversation was not brilliant, indeed I do not know apropos to what, as opposed to the climate, but it chiefly turned on medicine. There cannot be a greater contrast, both in appearances and reality, than between him and Santa Anna. There is no lurking devil in his eyes. All is frank, open, and unreserved. It is impossible to look in his face without believing him to be an honest and well-intentioned man. An unprincipled but clever writer has said of him, that he has no great capacity or superior genius, but that, whether from reflection or from slowness of comprehension, he is always extremely calm in his determinations. That, before entering into any project, he inquires and considers deeply as to whether it be just or not, but that once convinced that it is or appears to be so, he sustains his ground with firmness and constancy. He adds that it suits him better to obey than to command, for which reason he was always so devoted a servant of the Spaniards and of Utterpidi. He is said to be a devoted friend, is honest to a proverb and personally brave, though occasionally deficient in moral energy. He is therefore an esteemable man, and one who will do his duty to the best of his ability, though whether he has severity and energy sufficient for those evil days in which it is his lot to govern, may be problematical. Having made a sufficiently long visit to his Excellency, we went to return that of the Countess C., who has a magnificent house, with suites of large rooms of which the drawing room is particularly handsome, of immense size, the walls beautifully painted, the subjects religious, and where I found one of Broadwood's finest grand pianos. But although there are cabinets inlaid with gold, fine paintings and hundreds of rich and curious things, our European eyes are struck with numerous inconsistencies in dress, servants, etc., in all of which there is a want of keeping very remarkable. Yet this house and the one adjoining which also belongs to the family are palaces in vastness, and the Countess receives me more as if I were her daughter, than a person with whom she has been acquainted but a few days. There are an extraordinary number of street cries in Mexico, which begin at dawn and continue till night, performed by hundreds of discordant voices, impossible to understand at first. But Señor Blanc has been giving me an explanation of them until I begin to have some distant idea of their meaning. At dawn you are awakened by the shrill and despondent cry of the carbonero, the coalman. Carbon, Señor, which as he pronounces it, sounds like Carboshu. Then the greaseman takes up the song Mantequilla, lard, lard, at one reel and a half. Saltbeef, good saltbeef, Cecina, buena, interrupts the butcher in a hoarse voice. Hi, Cebo! This is the prolonged and melancholy note of the woman who buys kitchen stuff and stops before the door, then passes by the cambista, a sort of Indian sheet-raider or exchanger, who sings out, Te jocotas por venas de chile, a small fruit which she proposes exchanging for hot peppers. No harm in that. A kind of ambulating peddler drowns the shrill treble of the Indian cry. He calls aloud upon the public to buy needles, pins, thimbles, trick-buttons, tape, cotton-balls, small mirrors, etc. He enters the house and is quickly surrounded by the women, young and old, offering him the tenth part of what he asks, and which after much haggling he accepts. Behind him stands the Indian with his tempting baskets of fruit, of which he calls out all the names till the cook or housekeeper can resist no longer, and putting her head over the balustrade calls him up with his bananas and oranges and granaditas, etc. A sharp note of interrogation is heard indicating something that is hot and must be snapped up quickly before it cools. Cortitas de horna caliente. Little fat cakes from the oven hot? This is in a female key, sharpened shrill. Follows the mat seller. Who wants mats from Puebla? Mats of five yards. These are the most matinal cries. At midday the beggars begin to be particularly importunate, and their cries and prayers and long recitations form a running accompaniment to the other noises. Then above all rises the cry of honey cakes, cheese and honey, requesón and good honey, requesón being a sort of hard curd, soul in Jesus. Then come the dulcimen, the sellers of sweet meats, of merengues which are very good and of all sorts of candy. Caramelos de esperma, bocadillo de coco. Then the lottery men, the messengers of fortune with their shouts of, the last ticket yet unsold for half a reel. A tempting announcement to the lazy beggar who finds it easier to gamble than to work and who may have that sum hid about his rags. Towards evening rises the cry of, tortillas de cuajada, curd cakes or, do you take nuts, succeeded by the night cry of, chestnuts hot and roasted, and by the affectionate vendors of ducks, ducks oh my soul hot ducks, maze cakes, etc., etc. As the night wears away the voices die off to resume next morning in fresh figure. Tortillas, which are the common food of the people and which are merely maze cakes, mixed with a little lime and of the form and size of what we call scones, I find rather good when very hot and fresh baked, but insipid by themselves. They have been in use all through this country since the earliest ages of its history, without any change in the manner of baking them, accepting that, for the noble Mexicans in former days, they used to be needed with various medicinal plants, supposed to render them more wholesome. They are considered particularly palatable with chile, to endure which, in the quantities in which it is eaten here, it seems to me necessary to have a throat lined with tin. In unpacking some books today I happen to take up Sartore Sartos, which, by a curious coincidence, opened of itself to my great delight at the following passage. The simplest costume, observes our professor, which I anywhere find alluded to in history, is that used as a regimental by Bolivar's Calvary, in the late Columbian wars, a square blanket twelve feet in diagonal is provided, some were wont to cut off the corners and make it circular. In the center a slit is affected, eighteen inches long, through this the mother naked trooper introduces his head and neck, and so rides shielded from all weather, and in battle for many strokes, for he rolls it about his left arm, and not only dressed, but harnessed and draperied. Here then we find the true Old Roman contempt of the superfluous, which seems rather to meet the approbation of the illustrious professor two-fell stroke. End of Letter VII. Letter VIII. 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, my Francis Calderón de la Barca. Letter VIII. Ball in preparation. Agreeable family. Find voices. Theatre. Smoking. Castle of Capultepec. Visoroy Galvez. Montezuma Cyprus. Vice Queen. Valley of Mexico. New Year's Day. Opening of Congress. Visits from the Diplomatic Corps. Boblan Address. Function Extraordinaria. Theatre. Visit to the Cathedral of Guadalupe. Divine Painting. Bishop Beggars. Mosquitos Eggs. A great ball is to be given on the 8th of January in the Theatre for the benefit of the poor, which is to be under the patronage of the most distinguished ladies of Mexico. After much deliberation amongst the patronesses, it is decided that it shall be a ball costume, and I have some thoughts of going in the Boblan Address, which I will forward describe to you, as I am told that the Senora G.A. wore it at a ball in London when her husband was minister there, I have sent my maid to learn the particulars from her. We call today on a family nearly related to the C.A.S. and who have been already excessively kind to us, Senor A.D., who is married to a daughter of Don Francisco Tagle, a very distinguished Mexican. We found a very large, very handsome house, the walls and roof painted in the old Spanish style, which, when well executed, has an admirable effect. The Lady of the House, who is only nineteen, I took a fancy to at first sight. She is not regularly beautiful, but has lovely dark eyes and eyebrows, with fair complexion and fair hair, and an expression of the most perfect goodness with very amiable manners. I was surprised by hearing her sing several very difficult Italian songs with great expression and wonderful facility. She has a fine contralto which has been cultivated but some Spanish ballads and little songs of the country. She sang so delightfully and with so much good nature and readiness, that had it not been a first visit, I should have begged her to continue during half the morning. Fine voices are said to be extremely common, as is natural in a country peopled from Spain, and the opera, while it lasted, contributed greatly to the cultivation of musical taste. In the evening we went to the theatre. Such a theatre! Dark, dirty, redolent and bad odours. The passages leading to the box is so ill-ighted, that one is afraid in the dark to pick one's steps through them. The acting was nearly of a piece. The first actress, who is a favourite and who dresses well, and bears a high reputation for good conduct, is perfectly wooden, and never frightened out of her proprieties, in the most tragical scenes. I am sure there is not a fold deranged in her dress when she goes home. Besides, she has a most remarkable trick of pursing up her mouth in a smile, and frowning at the same time with tears in her eyes, as if personifying an April day. I should like to hear her sing, set a smile to a tear. There was no applause, and half the boxes were empty, whilst those who were there seemed merely to occupy them from the effective habit, and because this is the only evening amusement. The prompter spoke so loud, that as, coming events cast their shadows before. Every word was made known to the audience in confidence, before it came out upon the stage officially. The whole pit smoked, the galleries smoked, the boxes smoked, the prompter smoked a long stream of smoke curling from his box, giving something oracular and delphic to his prophecies. The force of smoking could no further go. The theatre is certainly unworthy of this fine city. Thirty-first we have spent the day in visiting the castle of Chapultepec, a short league from Mexico, the most haunted by recollections of all the traditionary sites of which Mexico can boast. Could these horny cypresses speak, what tales might they not disclose, standing there with their long grey beards and outstretched venerable arms, century after century, already old when Montezuma was a boy and still vigorous in the days of Bustamente. There has the last of the Aztec emperors wandered with his dark-eyed harem. Under the shade of these gigantic trees he has rested, perhaps smoked his tobacco mingled with amber and fallen to sleep, his dreams unhaunted by visions of the stern traveller from the far east, whose sails even then might be within sight of the shore. In these tanks he has bathed. Here were his gardens and his aviaries and his fishponds. Through these now tangled and deserted woods he may have been carried by his young nobles in his open litter under a splendid dais, stepping out upon the rich stuffs with his slaves spread before him on the green and velvet turf. And from the very rock where the castle stands he may have looked out upon his fertile valley and great capital, with its canoe-covered lakes and outspreading villages and temples, and gardens of flowers, no care for the future darkening the bright vision. Tradition says that now these caves and tanks and woods are haunted by the shade of the conqueror's Indian love, the far-famed Donya Marina, but I think she would be afraid of meeting with the wrathful spirit of the Indian Emperor. The castle itself, modern though it be, seems like a tradition. The Viceroy Galvez, who built it, is of a bygone race. The apartments are lonely and abandoned, the walls falling to ruin, the glass of the windows and the carved work of the doors have been sold, and standing at this great height exposed to every wind that blows, it is rapidly falling to decay. We were accompanied by Count C.A. and received by a mehican governor who rarely resides there and who very civilly conducted us everywhere. But Chapultepec is not a show-place. One must go there early in the morning, when the dew is on the grass or in the evening when the last rays of the sun are gilding with rosy light the snowy summits of the volcanoes and dismount from your horse or step out of your carriage and wander forth without guide or object or fixed time for return. We set off early passing over a fine paved road divided by a great and solid aqueduct of nine hundred arches, one of the two great aqueducts by which fresh water is conveyed to the city, and of which the two sources are in the hill of Chapultepec, and in that of Santa Fe at a much greater distance. When we arrived, the sleepy soldiers who were lounging before the gates threw them open to let the carriage enter, and we drew up in front of the great Cyprus, known by the name of Montezuma Cyprus, a most stupendous tree, dark, solemn, and stately its branches unmoved as the light wind played amongst them, of most majestic height and forty-one feet in circumference. A second Cyprus standing near, and of almost equal size is even more graceful, and they, and all the noble trees which adorn these speaking solitudes, are covered with a creeping plant resembling gray moss, hanging over every branch like long gray hair, giving them a most venerable and druidical look. We wandered through the noble avenues and rested under the trees and walked through the tangled shrubberies, bright with flowers and colored berries, and groped our way into the cave, and stood by the large clear tank, and spent some time in the old garden, and then got again into the carriage that we might be dragged up the precipitous ascent on which stands the castle, the construction of which aroused the jealousy of the government against the young Count, whose taste for the picturesque had induced him to choose this elevated site for his summer palace. The interior was never finished, yet even as it stands, it cost the Spanish government three hundred thousand dollars. When we look at its strong military capabilities and commanding position, fortified with salient walls and parapets towards Mexico, and containing on its northern side great moats and subterraneous vaults capable of holding a vast supply of provisions, the jealousy of the government and their suspicions that it was a fortress masked as a summer retreat are accountable enough. The vice-queen Galvez was celebrated for her beauty and goodness, and was universally adored in Mexico. A sister of hers who still survives and who paid me a visit the other day says that her beauty chiefly consisted in the exceeding fairness of her complexion, very few blondes having then been seen in this part of the world. From the terrace that runs round the castle the view forms the most magnificent panorama that can be imagined. The whole valley of Mexico lies stretched out as in a map, the city itself with its innumerable churches and convents, the two great aqueducts which crossed the plain, the avenues of elms and poplars which lead to the city, the villages, lakes, and plains which surround it. To the north the magnificent cathedral of our late of Guadalupe, to the south the villages of San Agostín, San Angel, and Tucabaya, which seem embosomed in trees and look like an immense garden. And if in the plains below there are many uncultivated fields and many buildings falling to ruin, yet with its glorious enclosure of mountains above which tower the two mighty volcanoes, Popocatipetl and Estasícuatl, the gorgon magog of the valley of whose giant sides great volumes of misty clouds were rolling and with its turquoise sky forever smiling on the scene, the whole landscape as viewed from this height is one of nearly unparalleled beauty. First January 1840, New Year's Day, the birth of the young year is ushered in by no remarkable signs of festivity. More ringing of bells, more chanting of mass, gay addresses amongst the peasants in the streets, and more carriages passing along, and the ladies within rather more dressed than apparently they usually are, when they do not intend to pay visits. In passing through the plaza this morning our carriage suddenly drew up and the servants took off their hats. At the same moment the whole population, men, women and children, vendors and buyers, peasant and senora, priest and layman dropped on their knees, a picturesque sight. Presently a coach came slowly along through the crowd, with a mysterious eye painted on the panels drawn by pie-balled horses and with priests within bearing the divine symbols. On the balconies in the shops in the houses and on the streets everyone knelt while it passed, the little bell giving warning of its approach. We were then at the door of the palace where we went this morning to see the opening of Congress, the two houses being included in this building. The house of representatives, though not large, is handsome and in good taste. Opposite to the presidential chair is a full-length representation of our Lady of Guadalupe. All round the hall, which is semi-circular, are inscribed the names of the heroes of independence and that of the Emperor Augustinia Turbide is placed on the right of the presidential chair with his sword hanging on the wall. While on the left of the chief magistrate's seat there is a vacant space perhaps distinct for the name of another emperor. The multitude of priests with their large shovel hats and the entrance of the president in full uniform, announced by music and a flourish of trumpets and attended by his staff rendered it as anti-Republican looking and assembly as one could wish to see. The utmost decorum and tranquility prevailed. The president made a speech in a low and rather monotonous tone, which in the diplomat's seat where we were was scarcely audible. No ladies were in the house, myself exempted, which I am glad I was not aware of before going, or I should perhaps have stayed away. Yesterday I received visits from the gentlemen of the diplomatic corps who are not in great numbers here. England, Belgium, Prussia and the United States are the only countries at present represented, Spain exempted. The French minister has not arrived yet, but is expected in a few days. I was not sorry to hear English spoken once more and to meet with so gentlemanly a person as the minister who for the last fourteen years has represented our island in the Republic. His visit and a large packet of letters just received from Paris and from the United States have made me feel as if the distance from home were diminished by one half. This morning a very handsome dress was forwarded to me with the compliments of a lady whom I do not know, the wife of General Blanc, with a request that if I should go to the fancy ball as a poblane peasant I may wear this costume. It is a poblane dress and very superb consisting of a petticoat of maroon-coloured merino, with gold fringe, gold bands and spangles, and under petticoat embroidered and trimmed with rich lace to come below it. The first petticoat is trimmed with gold up the sides which are slit open and tied up with coloured ribbon. With this must be worn a chemise, richly embroidered round the neck and sleeves, and trimmed with lace, a satin vest open in front and embroidered in gold, a silk sash tied behind, the ends fringed with gold and a small silk handkerchief which crosses the neck with gold fringe. I had already another dress prepared, but I think this is the handsomer of the two. The actors have just called in form Sien that their Function Extraordinaria, in his honour, is to be given on the third, that a box is prepared for us and that the play is to be Dungeon of Austria. Footnote one translated from the French of Casima de la Vigne. Fourth, having sat through five acts last evening in the theatre, we came home very tired. The play was awfully long, lasting from eight o'clock till one in the morning. At the end of the first act the Prefect and other dignitaries came round, with much precipitation and carried off Sien to a large box in the centre, intended for him, for not knowing which it was, we had gone to that of the Countess C.A. The theatre looked much more decent than before, being lighted up and the boxes hung with silk draperies in honour of the occasion. The ladies also were in full dress and the boxes crowded, so that one could scarcely recognise the house. This morning we drove out to see the cathedral of our Lady of Guadalupe, Sien in one carriage, with our Countess C.A. and the Senora C.A. and I in another, driven by Senor A.D., who is a celebrated whip. The carriage opened with handsome white horses, Frisones, as they here call the northern horses, whether from England or the United States, and which are much larger than the spirited little horses of the country. As usual we were accompanied by four armed outriders. We passed through miserable suburbs, ruined, dirty, and with a commingling of odours which I could boldly challenge those of Cologne to rival. After leaving the town the road is not particularly pretty, but is for the most part a broad straight avenue bounded on either side by trees. At Guadalupe on the hill of Tepeyac there stood in days of yore the temple of Tonatzin, the goddess of earth and of corn, a mild deity who rejected human victims and was only to be propitiated by the sacrifices of turtle doves, swallows, pigeons, etc. She was the protectress of the Totonoki Indians, the spacious church which now stands at the foot of the mountain is one of the richest in Mexico. Having put on veils no bonnets being permitted within the precincts of a church, we entered this far famed sanctuary and were dazzled by the profusion of silver with which it is ornamented. The divine painting of the Virgin of Guadalupe represents her in a blue cloak covered with stars, a garment of crimson and gold, her hands clasped, and her foot unaccrescent, supported by a cherub. The painting is coarse and only remarkable on account of the tradition attached to it. We afterwards visited a small chapel covered by a dome built over a boiling spring whose waters possessed miraculous qualities and bought crosses and medals which have touched the whole image and pieces of white ribbon marked with the measure of the Virgin's hands and feet. We climbed, albeit very warm, by a steep path to the top of the hill where there is another chapel from which there is a superb view of Mexico and beside it a sort of monument in the form of the sails of a ship erected by a grateful Spaniard to commemorate his escape from shipwreck which he believed to be owing to the intercession of our Lady of Guadalupe. We then went to the village to call on the bishop, the ilustrimo Señor Campos whom we found in his canonicals and who seems a good little old man, but no conjurer, although I believe he had the honour of bringing up his cousin, Señor Posada, destined to be Archbishop of Mexico. We found him quietly seated in a large simply furnished room and apparently buried over some huge volume so that he was not at first aware of our entrance. A picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe hung on the wall, which Sien, having noticed, he observed that he could not answer for its being a very faithful resemblance as our Lady did not appear often, not so often as people supposed. Then folding his hands and looking down, he proceeded to recount the history of the miraculous apparition pretty much as follows. In 1531, ten years and four months after the conquest of Mexico, the fortunate Indian whose name was Juan Diego and who was a native of Cuatidlan, went to the suburb of Llatelolco to learn the Christian doctrine which the Franciscan monks taught there. As he was passing by the Bountain of Tepeac, the Holy Virgin suddenly appeared before him and ordered him to go, in her name, to the Bishop, the Ilustricimo D. F. R. Juan de Zumarraga, and to make known to him that she desired to have a place of worship erected in her honour on that spot. The next day the Indian passed by the same place when again the Holy Virgin appeared before him and demanded the result of his commission. Juan Diego replied that in spite of his endeavours he had not been able to obtain an audience of the Bishop. Return, said the Virgin, and say that it is I, the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, who sends thee. Juan Diego obeyed the divine orders, yet still the Bishop would not give him credence, merely desiring him to bring some sign or token of the Virgin's will. He returned with this message on the 12th of December, when for the third time he beheld the apparition of the Virgin. She now commanded him to climb to the top of the barren rock of Tepeac, to gather the roses which he should find there and to bring them to her. The humble messenger obeyed, though well knowing that on that spot were neither flowers nor any trace of vegetation. Nevertheless he found the roses which he gathered and brought to the Virgin Mary, who throwing them into his tilma, said, Return, show these to the Bishop and tell him that these are the credentials of thy mission. Juan Diego set out for the Episcopal House, which stood on the ground occupied by the hospital now called San Juan de Dios, and when he found himself in the presence of the Prelate he unfolded his tilma to show him the roses, when there appeared imprisoned on it the miraculous image which had existed for more than three centuries. When the Bishop beheld it he was seized with astonishment and awe and conveyed it in a solemn procession to his own oratory, and shortly after this splendid church was erected in honour of the patroness of New Spain. From all parts of the country continued the old Bishop, people flocked in crowds to see our Lady of Guadalupe, and esteemed it in honour to obtain a sight of her. What then must be my happiness who can see her most gracious majesty every hour and every minute of the day? I would not quit Guadalupe for any part of the world, nor for any temptation that could be held out to me, and the pious man remained for a few minutes as if wrapped in ecstasy. That he was sincere in his assertions there could be no doubt. As evening prayers were about to begin we accompanied him to the cathedral. An old woman opened the door for us as we passed out. Have my chocolate ready when I return? said the Bishop. Said the old woman dropping upon her knees in which posture she remained for some minutes. As we passed along the street the sight of the reverend man had the same effect all fell on their knees as he passed, precisely as if the host were carried by or the shock of an earthquake were felt. Arrived at the door of the cathedral he gave us his hand or rather his pastoral amethyst to kiss. The organ sounded fine as it peeled through the old cathedral, and the setting sun poured his rays in through the gothic windows with a rich and glowing light. The church was crowded with people of the village, but especially with leperos counting their beads and suddenly in the midst of an Ave Maria Purissima flinging themselves and their rags in our path with a if this does not serve their purpose they appeal to your domestic sympathies. From men they entreat relief by the life of the signorita, from women by the life of the little child, from children it is by the life of your mother, and a mixture of piety and superstitious feeling makes most people, women at least, draw out their purses. Count C.A. has promised to send me tomorrow a box of mosquitoes eggs of which tortillas are made, which are considered a great delicacy. Considering life in Mexico mosquitoes are small winged cannibals, I was rather shocked at the idea, but they pretend that these which are from the laguna are a superior race of creatures which do not sting. In fact, the Spanish historians mention that the Indians used to eat bread made of the eggs which the fly called Agayacatl laid on the rushes of the lakes in which they the spaniards found very palatable. End of letter VIII