 50. Indian Dresses, Saints, Music, Union of Tropical and European Vegetation, Old Customs, Falls of the Sararaki, Silkworms, Indian Painting, Beautiful Heroine, Leaves, Yuruapa, Tzira Quaratiro, Tocca de Vindian, Alcalde's House, Pasquaro, Old Church, Mosaic work, The Lake, The Cave, Fried Fish, Rich Indians, Convent, Quincho, Darkness, Morelia, Alameda, Cathedral, Silver, Waxworks, College, Wonderful Fleas, Yurimpa, 31st. The dress of the Indian women of Yuruapa is pretty, and they are altogether a much cleaner and better-looking race than we have yet seen. They wear Naguas, a petticoat of black cotton with a narrow white and blue stripe made very full, and rather long, over this a sort of short chemise made of coarse white cotton and embroidered in different colored silks. It is called the Sutu Nakua. Overall is a black reboso striped with white and blue with a handsome silk fringe of the same colors. When they are married they add a white embroidered veil, and a remarkably pretty colored mantle, the Hueppelili, which they seem to pronounce guppeli. The hair is divided, and falls down behind in two long plates fastened at the top by a bow of ribbon and a flower. In this dress there is no alteration from what they wore in former days, saving that the women of a higher class wore a dress of finer cotton with more embroidery, and a loose garment overall resembling a priest's surplus when the weather was cold. Among the men the introduction of trousers is Spanish, but they still wear the Maidla, a broad belt with the ends tied before and behind, and the Dilmatli or Tilmas they now call it a sort of short square cloak, the ends of which are tied across the breast or over one's shoulder. It is on a coarse Dilma of this description that the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe was found, painted. Yesterday, being the festival of Sandres, the Indians were all in full costume and procession, and we went into the Old Church to see them. They were carrying the saint in very fine robes, the women bearing coloured flags and lighted tapers, and the men playing on violins, flutes, and drums. All had garlands of flowers to hang on the altars, and for these lights and ornaments and silk and tinsel robes they save up all their money. They were playing a pretty air, but I doubt it's being original. It was not melancholy and monotonous, like the generality of Indian music, but had something wild and gay in it. It was probably Spanish. The organ was played by an Indian. After mass we went upstairs to try it, and wondered how, with such miserable means, he had produced anything like music. In the patio between the curate's house and the church are some very brilliant large scarlet flowers, which they call here, flor del pastor, the shepherd's flower, a beautiful kind of euphorbia, and in other places flor de noche buena, the flower of Christmas Eve. Last evening we walked out in the environs of this garden of Eden by the banks of the river Marquise, amidst a most extraordinary union of tropical and European vegetation, the hills covered with furs and the plains with sugarcane. We walked amongst bananas, saddock, chidi-moyes, and orange trees, and but a few yards higher up, bending over and almost touching them, were groves of oak and pine. The river pursues its bright unwearyed course through this enchanting landscape, now falling in cascades, now winding placidly at the foot of the silent hills and among the dark woods, and in one part, forming a most beautiful natural bath, by pouring its waters into an enclosure of large smooth flat stones overshadowed by noble trees. A number of the old Indian customs are still kept up here, modified by the introduction of Christian doctrines, in their marriages, feasts, burials, and superstitious practices. They also preserve the same simplicity in their dress, united with the same vanity and love of show in their ornaments, which always distinguished them. The poorest Indian woman still wears a necklace of red coral, or a dozen rows of red beads, and their dishes are still the hikali, or as they were called by the Spaniards, kikaras made of a species of gourd or rather a fruit resembling it and growing on a low tree, which fruit they cut in two, each one furnishing two dishes. The inside is scooped out in a durable varnish given it by means of a mineral earth of different bright colors, generally red. On the outside they paint flowers and some of them are also gilded. They are extremely pretty, very durable, and ingenious. The beautiful colors which they employ in painting these kikaras are composed not only of various mineral productions, but of the wood, leaves, and flowers of certain plants, of whose properties they have no despicable knowledge. Their own dresses manufactured by themselves of cotton are extremely pretty, and many of them very fine. December 1st. We rode out early this morning, and passing through the lanes bordered with fruit trees, and others covered with blossoms of extraordinary beauty. Of whose names I only know the Fluripudio, ascended into the pine woods fragrant and gay with wild thyme and bright flowers, the river falling in small cascades among the rocks. After riding along these heights for about two leagues we arrived at the edge of a splendid valley of oaks. Here we were obliged to dismount and to make our way on foot down the longest, steepest, and most slippery of paths, winding in rapid descent through the woods, with the prospect of being repaid for our toil, by the sight of the celebrated falls of the Sararaki. After having descended to the foot of the oak-covered mountain, we came to a great enclosure of lofty rocks, prodigious natural bulwarks, through a great cavern in which the river comes thundering and boiling into the valley, forming the great cascade of the Sararaki, which in the Taraskin language means sieve. It is a very fatiguing descent, but it is worthwhile to make the whole journey from Mexico to see anything so wildly grand. The falls are from fifty to sixty feet high, and of great volume. The rocks are covered with shrubs and flowers with small jets of water issuing from every crevice. One lovely flower that looks as if it were formed of small white and rose-coloured shells springs out of the stones near the water. There are rattlesnakes among the woods and wild boars have occasionally been seen. The Sinyaritas why, when children two or three years ago, wandering among these mountain paths, saw an immense rattlesnake coiled up, and tempted by its gaudy colours were about to lift it when it suddenly wakened from its slumber, uncoiled itself, and swiftly glided up the path before them, its rattlesounding all the way up amongst the hills. We sat, beside the falls for a long while looking at the boiling, hissing, bubbling, foaming waters rolling down headlong with such impetuous velocity that one could hardly believe they form part of the same placid stream which flows so gently between its banks when no obstacles oppose it, and at all the little silvery threads of water that formed mimic cascades among the rocks, but at length we were obliged to recommend our toil some march of the slippery mountain. We were accompanied by several officers amongst others by the commandant of Yruapa. Sinyarblanc says that they are at present occupied here at the instigation of a Frenchman named Ginold in planting a large collection of mulberry trees which prosper wonderfully well in this climate for the propagation of silkworms, but they have no facilities for transport and at what market could the silk be sold? There are a thousand improvements wanting here which would be more profitable than the speculation. They have sugar, corn, maize, minerals, wood, cotton, water for machinery, every valuable and important produce all requiring their more immediate attention. We had a pleasant ride home and when we got back amongst the lanes leading to the village stopped every moment to admire and wander at the rare and beautiful blossoms on the trees and pulled branches of flowers off them more delicate and lovely than the rarest exotics in an English hot house. This morning the weather was damp and rainy, but in the afternoon we took a long walk and visited several Indian cottages all clean and the walls hung with fresh mats, the floors covered with the same, and all with their kitchen utensils of baked earth neatly hung on the wall from the largest size in use to little dishes and harritos in miniature which are only placed there for ornament. We also went to purchase kikaras and to see the operation of making and painting them which is very curious. The flowers are not painted but inlaid. We were fortunate in procuring a good supply of the prettiest which cannot be procured anywhere else. We bought a very pretty suttunakwa and a black riboso. The women are not at all anxious to sell their dresses as they make them with great trouble and preserve them with great care. We had a beautiful walk to the Magdalena about a mile from the village. Every day we discovered new beauties in the environs and one beauty we saw on entering a small ranch where they were painting kikaras at the table while a woman lay in the shaking fever in a bed adjoining which was quite consistent with the place. This was a lady, the proprietor of a good estate some leagues off, who was seated on her own trunk outside the door of the rancho. She was a beautiful woman in her prime, the gentleman said, Pasei, and perhaps at eighteen she may have been more charming still, but now she was a model for a Judith or rather for a Joanne of Arc even though sitting on her own luggage. She was very fair, with large black eyes, long eyelashes and a profusion of hair as black as jet. Her teeth were literally dazzling, her lips like the reddest coral, her color glowing as the down upon a ripe peach. Her figure was tall and full, with a small beautifully formed hands and fine arms. She rose as we came in and begged us to be seated on a bench near the door, and with an unceremonious of travelers who meet in outlandish places we entered into conversation with her. She told us her name and her motives for travelling and gave us an account of an adventure she had had with the robbers of which she was well fitted to be the heroine. It appears that she was travelling with her two sons, lads of fifteen and sixteen, when they arrived at this rancho to rest for the night, for by this time you will understand that those who travel hereabouts must trust a chance or two hospitality for a night's lodging. To their surprise they found the farmers gone, their dogs gone and the house locked. They had no alternative but to rest as they could among their luggage and mules in the yard in front of the house. In the middle of the night they were attacked by robbers. The boys instantly took their guns and fired but without effect. Still in the darkness the robbers probably imagined that they were more people and more arms, and when she, dragging a loaded musket of one of the horses, prepared to join in the engagement, the cowardly ruffians took flight, a good half a dozen before a woman and two boys. She was particularly indignant at the farmers, these malditos rancheros as she called them, who she said had been bribed or frightened into withdrawing their dogs and themselves. She returned home after a long walk in the dark and in the midst of all the howling yelping, snarling barking dogs which rushed out as we went by, from every cottage in Urwapa. After supper they sent for a clever Indian girl who understands Spanish as well as her native idiom, and who translated various Castilean words for us into the original Taraskan which sounds very liquid and harmonious. Tomorrow we shall leave Urwapa and this hospitable family whose kindness and attention to us we never can forget. It seems incredible that we have only known them a few days. We have, however, the hopes of seeing them again as we pass through Vaya Dolid where they intend removing in a few days. We left Urwapa yesterday morning at eleven o'clock accompanied part of the way by Señor Isasaga and another gentleman amongst whom was Madame Yitulbire's brother. We are now returning to Morelia, but avoided Kuru and the rocks, both to save our animals and for the sake of variety. We rode through large tracts of land, all belonging to the Indians. The day was agreeable and cloudy and the road, as usual, led us through beautiful scenery, monotonous indescription and full of variety in fact. Though nearly uninhabited and almost entirely uncultivated, it has pleased nature to lavish so much beauty on this part of the country that there is nothing melancholy in its aspect, no feeling of dreariness in riding a whole day, league after league without seeing a trace of human life. These forest paths always appear as if they must in time lead to some habitation. The woods, the groves, the clumps of trees seem as if they had been disposed, or at least beautified by the hand of art. We cannot look on these smiling and flowery valleys and believe that such lovely scenes are always untenanted, that there are no children occasionally picking up these apricots. No village girls to pluck these bright fragrant flowers. We fancy that they are out in the fields and will be there in the evening, and that their hamlet is hid behind the slope of the next hill, and it is only when we come to some Indian hut or cluster of poor cabins in the wilderness that we are startled by the conviction that this enchanting variety of hill and plain wood and water is for the most part unseen by human eye and untrod by human footsteps. We had no further adventure during this day's journey than buying bread and cheese from sheer hunger at a little wooden tavern by the roadside whose shelves recovered with the glittering rows of bottles of brandy and mezcal. At some of the Indian huts also we bought various branches of platanos that most useful of fruits and bases of the food of the poor inhabitants of all the tropical climate. It has been said that the banana is not indigenous in America and that it was brought over by a friar to Santo Domingo. If so, its adopted country agrees with it better than its native land, but I believe there are many traditions which go to prove that it did already exist in this hemisphere before the 16th century and that the Spaniards did no more than increase the number of the already indigenous species. Its nutritive qualities and the wonderful facility with which it is propagated render it at once the most useful of trees and the greatest possible incentive to indolence. In less than one year after it is planted the fruit may be gathered and the proprietor has but to cut away the old stems and leave a sucker which will produce fruit three months after. There are different sorts of bananas and they are used in different ways, fresh, dried, fried, etc. The dried plantain, a great branch of trade in Michoacan with its black shriveled skin and flavor of smoked fish or ham is exceedingly liked by the natives. It is, of all making articles of food, my peculiar aversion. About four o'clock we arrived at the small village of Tseracuaratiro, a collection of Indian cottages with little gardens surrounded by orange and all manner of fruit trees. As we had still one or two hours of daylight and this was our next halting place, we wandered forth on foot to explore the environs and found a beautiful shady spot, a grassy knoll sheltered by the surrounding woods where we sat down to rest and to inhale the balmy air, fragrant with orange blossoms. We were amused by a sly-licking Indian of whom Sien asked some questions and who was exceedingly talkative giving us an account of his whole menagee and especially praising beyond measure his own exemplary conduct to his wife, from which I inferred that he beats her as indeed all Indians consider it their particular privilege to do. And an Indian woman who complained to a padre of her husband's neglect mentioned as the crowning proof of his utter abandonment of her that he had not given her a beating for a whole fortnight. Someone asked him if he allowed his wife to govern him. Oh, no, said he, that would be the mule leading the arellero. There was nothing to be seen in the village of which it hardly deserves the name, but a good-looking old church which two old women were sweeping out. But they told us they rarely had mass there as the padre lived a long way off. The alcalde permitted us and our escort to occupy his house, consisting of three empty rooms with mud floors and about seven the next morning we were again on horseback and again in route for Pasquaro, a pretty ride of eleven or twelve leagues. We breakfasted at the village of Ahuna in a clean hut where they gave us quantities of tortillas and chile baked by some very handsome tortilleras. A number of women were caring about a virgin all covered with flowers to the sound of a little bell. It was about four o'clock when we arrived at the hills near Pasquaro. Here we dismounted from our horses and remained till it was nearly dusk, laying on the grass and gazing on the lake as the shadows of evening stole slowly over its silver waters. Little by little the green islands became indistinct, a gray vapor concealed the opposite shores and like a light breath spread gradually over the mirrored surface of the lake. Then we remounted our horses and rode down to Pasquaro, where we found the Señor H.A. as before ready to receive us, and where our mules being disabled we proposed remaining one or two days. Fifth. We have been spending a quiet day in Pasquaro and went amass in the old church which is handsome and rich and gilding. At the door is printed in large letters, for the love of God all good Christians are requested not to spit in this holy place. If we might judge from the observation of one morning I should say that the better classes in Pasquaro are fairer and have more color than is general in Mexico, and if this is so it may be owing partly to the climate being cooler and damper, and partly to their taking more exercise, there being no carriages here, whereas in Mexico no family of any importance can avoid having one. We were very anxious to see some specimens of that mosaic work which all ancient riders upon Mexico have celebrated and which was nowhere brought to such perfection as in Pasquaro. It was made with the most beautiful and delicate feathers, chiefly of the picaflores, the hummingbirds, which they called Huzitaylil, but we are told that it is now upwards of twenty years since the last artist in this branch lived in Pasquaro, and though it is imitated by the nuns the art is no longer in the state of perfection to which it was brought in the days of Cortes. We are told that several persons were employed in each painting, and that it was a work requiring extraordinary patience and nicety in the blending of the colors and in the arrangement of the feathers. The sketch of the figure was first made in the proportions being measured, each artist took charge of one particular part of the figure or of the drapery. When each had finished his share all the different parts were reunited to form the picture. The feathers were first taken up with some soft substance with utmost care, and fastened with a glutinous matter upon a piece of stuff. Then the different parts being reunited were placed on a plate of copper and gently polished till the surface became quite equal when they appeared like the most beautiful paintings, or according to this writer is more beautiful from the splendor and liveliness of the colors, the bright golden and blue and crimson tints than the paintings which they imitated. Many were sent to Spain and to different museums both in Europe and Mexico, but the art is now nearly lost, nor does it belong to the present utilitarian age. Our forefathers had more leisure than we, and probably we have more than our descendants will have, who for odd we know may be extra high pressure be able to put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes. We however saw some few specimens of saints and angels, very defective in the sketch but beautiful in the coloring, and quite sufficient to prove to us that there was no exaggeration in these accounts. We rode yesterday to the shores of the lake where we embarked in a long canoe formed of the hollow trunk of a tree, and rode by Indians a peculiarly ugly race with tartar looking faces. The lake was very placid, clear as one vast mirror, and covered with thousands of wild ducks, white egrets, cranes and herons, all those waterfowl who seemed to whiten their plumage by constant dipping in pools and marshes and lakes. On the opposite shore to the ride lay the city of Zinzunzan and on a beautiful island in the midst of the lake, the village of Hanicho, entirely peopled by Indians, who mingle little with the dwellers on the mainland, and have preserved their originality more than any we have yet seen. We were accompanied by the prefect of Pasquaro, whom the Indians fear and hate in equal ratio, and who did seem a sort of Indian. Mr. Bumble, and after a long and pleasant row, we landed at the island, where we were received by the village Alcalde, a half-cased Indian who sported a pair of bright blue merino pantaloons, as opposed to distinguish himself from his blanketed brethren. The island is entirely surrounded by a natural screen of willow and ash trees, and the village consists of a few scattered houses with small cultivated patches of ground, the Alcalde's house, and an old church. We walked or rather climbed all over the island, which is hilly and rocky, and found with several great stones entirely covered with the ancient carving. Moved by curiosity we entered various caverns where idols have been found, and amongst others one large cave which we had no sooner groped our way into, than I nearly fell down suffocated by the horrible and most pestilential atmosphere. It appears that it is a sleeping place of all the bats in the island, and heaven forbid that I should ever again enter a bat's bed-chamber. I groped my way out again as fast as possible, heedless of idols and all other antiquities, seized a cigarito from the hand of the astonished prefect, who was wisely smoking at the entrance, lighted it, and inhaled a smoke which seemed more fragrant than violets after the stifling and most unearthly odor. The chief food of these islanders besides the gourds and other vegetables which they cultivate is the white fish for which the lake is celebrated, and while we were exploring the island the Indians set off in their canoes to catch some for us. These were fried at the alcaldes and we made a breakfast upon them which would have rejoiced the horrors of an epicure. We then went to visit the church, and, though the cottages are poor, the church is as usual handsome. Amongst other curiosities there is a virgin entirely covered with Indian embroidery. The organist's place is hereditary in an Indian family descending from father to son. The long-haired Indian who played it for us has such a gentle expression and beardless face that he looks like a very young woman. Some of the Indians here are very rich and bury their money, and one, called Augustine Campos, who has beautified the church as we read, on an inscription carved on his stone outside, has thirty thousand dollars, is much respected, and has the addition of dawn to his name yet wears a coarse blanket like his fellow men. We stayed some hours on the island and went into some of the huts where the women were baking tortillas, one Indian custom at least which has descended to these days without variation. They first cook the grain in water with a little lime and when it is soft peel off a skin then grind it on a large block of stone, the metate or as the Indians, who know best, call it, the metadol. For the purpose of grinding it they use a sort of stone roller with which it is crushed and rolled into a bowl placed below the stone. They then take some of this paste and clap it between their hands till they form it into light round cakes which are afterwards toasted on a smooth plate called the Komalili, Komal they call it in Mexico, and which ought to be eaten as hot as possible. In our return we had the variety of a slight storm which ruffled the placid surface of the lake and caused the rowers to exert all their strength to bring the canoe to port before it should become more violent. This morning we walked all through Pasquaro which can boast of many good houses, a square and portales and ended by going to visit the convent of Santa Catarina. We saw some of the nuns who wear white dresses and instead of veils the black Indian reboso. They were common looking women and not very amiable in their manners, but we did not go further than the outside entry. On our return we met a remarkable baby in arms, wearing an enormous white satin turban with a large plume of white feathers on one side balanced on the other by huge bunches of yellow ribbons and pink roses. It also wore two robes, a short and a long one, both trimmed all round with large platings of yellow satin ribbon. It was evidently very much admired as it passed along. Tomorrow our mules having recovered we set off for Valladolid. Valladolid, Ninth. About half past seven we left Pasquaro which considering that we had a long day's journey before us was scarce nearly enough. We regretted very much taking leave of the senora H.A. who has been so kind to us and whom we can certainly never hope to see again. I observe that in these long days journeys we generally set off in silence and sometimes ride on for hours without exchanging a word. Towards the middle of the day we grow more talkative and again towards evening we relapse into quiet. I suppose it is that in the morning we are sleepy and towards evening begin to grow tired feeling sociable about nine o'clock a.m. and not able to talk for a longer period than eight or ten hours. It was about four in the afternoon when we reached Quinchot where we were welcomed by the damsels of the baths whose father is now still more of an invalid than before. It is a lonely life that these poor girls lead here nor should I think their position a very secure one. Their poverty, however, is a safeguard to a certain extent, and there are a few robbers in this country in the style of Morales. We were tempted to stop here and take a bath in consequence of which it was dark when we set off for Morelia. The horses unable to see took enormous leaps over every little streamlet and ditch so that we seemed to be riding a steeple-chase in the dark. Our gowns caught upon the thorny bushes and our journey might have been traced by the tatters we left behind us. At length we rode the wrong way up a stony hill which led us to a wretched little village of about thirty huts, each having ten dogs on an average according to the laudable custom of the Indians. Out they all rushed simultaneously, yelping like three hundred demons, biting the horses' feet and springing round us. Between this canine concert, the kicking of the horses, the roar of a waterfall close beside us, the shouting of people telling us to come back, and the pitch darkness I thought we should all have gone distracted. We did, however, make our way out from amongst the dogs, redescended the stony hill, the horses leaping over various streamlets that crossed their path, turned into the right road and entered the gates of Morelia, without further adventure, between nine and ten o'clock. Morelia, eleventh. We have passed the last few days very agreeable in this beautiful city, seeing everything worthy of notice and greatly admiring the wide and airy streets, the fine houses, the handsome public buildings, but especially the cathedral, the college and the churches. It has also a fine square with broad piazzas occupying three of its sides, while the cathedral bounds it to the east. There is a crowded market in the plaza and a fine display of fruit and vegetables. The population is said to be a little upwards of fifteen thousand, but one would suppose it to be much greater. Living and house rent is so cheap here that a family who could barely exist upon their means in Mexico may enjoy every luxury in Valladolid. The climate is delightful and there is something extremely cheerful in the aspect of the city in which it differs greatly from Toluca. We received visits from various Morelians amongst others, from Don Cayetano Gomez, the proprietor of San Bartolo. We went one evening to the Alameda, a broad straight walk paved with flat stones shaded by fine trees under which are stone benches and bounded by a low stone wall. Several ladies were sitting there whom we joined, and amongst others, a remarkably pretty poblana, married into the Gomez family. The Alameda is crossed by a fine aqueduct of solid masonry with light and elegant arches. We drove to the Paseo, a broad shady road where we met but few carriages, and the same evening we went out on foot to enjoy the music of a very good military band which plays occasionally for the amusement of the citizens. It is not to be supposed that when Mexico can boast of so little society, there should be much in a provincial town, besides the city has the pretension of being divided into cliques. And there are first people and second rate people and families in our set and so on, so that some of the ladies being musicians, once set, will get up a concert, another, a rival concert, and there not being a sufficient musical society to fill two concerts, both fall to the ground. There is a neat little theater but at present no company. Some of the houses are as handsome as any in Mexico, but there is no city which has fallen off so much since independence as Morelia, according to the accounts given us by the most respectable persons. We had a visit from the bishop, Señor Portugal, one of the most distinguished men here or in fact in the whole republic of Mexico. A man of great learning, gentle and amiable in his manners, and in his life a model of virtue and holiness. He was in the cabinet when Santa Ana was president, concerning which circumstance an amusing story was told us, for the correctness of which I do not vouch, but the narrator a respectable citizen here certainly believed it. Señor Portugal had gone by appointment to see the president on some important business, and they had but just begun their consultation when Santa Ana rose and left the room. The minister waited, the president did not return. The time passed on, and still the minister continued expecting him, until at length he inquired of an a-day camp in waiting, if he could inform him how soon the president might be expected back. I hardly know, said the officer, for his Excellency has gone to visit Cola de Plata, Silver Tail. And who may Cola de Plata be? said the minister. A favorite cock of his Excellencies wounded this morning in a fight which he won, and to whose care is now personally attending. The bishop, soon after, sent in his resignation. Accompanied by several of our friends, including one of the cannons of the cathedral, we visited that splendid building the second day of our arrival. It is still wonderfully rich, notwithstanding that silver, to the amount of thirty-two thousand marks has been taken from it during the civil wars. The high altar is dazzling with golden silver, the railing which leads from it to the choirs of pure silver, with pillars of the same metal. The two pulpits with their stairs are also covered with silver, and the general ornaments, though numerous and rich, are disposed with good taste, are kept in order and having nothing tawdry or loaded in their general effect. The choir itself is extremely beautiful, so also is the carved screen before the organ. The doors of the first being of solid silver, and those of the other of richly carved wood. There is also an immense silver font, and superb lamps of silver. We particularly admired some fine paintings, chiefly by Cabrera, and especially a Madonna and Child, in which there is that most divine expression in the face of the Virgin, the blending of maternal love with awe for the divinity of the Child. Four of these paintings, it is said, were sent here by a Spanish king as far back as Philip II. These four are colossal in size and are finely painted, but little cared for or appreciated and placed in a bad light. We were shown two saints sent from Rome loaded with false jewels, but carefully preserved in their respective shrines. All the holy vessels, and priests' dresses and jewels were taken out for our inspection. The sacramental custodia cost thirty-two thousand dollars, and the richest of the dresses, eight thousand. There is a lamb made of one pearl, the fleece and head of silver, the pearl of great size and value. We toiled up through winding staircases to the belfry, and it required the beautiful and extensive landscapes spread out before us to compensate us for this most fatiguing ascent. The bells are of copper and very sonorous. The Canoniho pointed out to us all the different sights which had been the scenes of bloody battles during the Revolutionary War. The facilities for obtaining provisions and the mountainous character of the country are amongst the causes that have rendered this province the theatre of civil war. The Padre afterwards took us into a large apartment, a sort of office, hung around with the portraits of all the bishops of Michoacan, one bearing so striking a resemblance to our friend Don Francisco Tagli that we were not surprised to find that it was in fact the portrait of one of his family, who had occupied the Episcopal Sea of Michoacan, and below it were the Tagli arms referring to some traditionary exploit of their ancestors. They represent a knight killing a serpent, and the motto is Tagli kill a serpent and kill a serpent and marry the princess. The same evening we visited a lady who possesses a most singular and curious collection of works in wax, and more extraordinary still they are all her own workmanship. Every fruit and every vegetable production is represented by her with a fidelity, which makes it impossible to distinguish between her imitations and the works of nature. Plates with bread, radishes and fish, dishes of fowls and chili and eggs, baskets full of the most delicious-looking fruit, lettuces, beans, carrots, tomatoes, etc., all are copied with the most extraordinary exactness, but her figures show much greater talent. There are groups for which an amateur might offer any price could she be prevailed upon to offer these masterpieces for sale. There is a poblana peasant on horseback before a ranchero looking back at him with the most coquettish expression, her dress perfection from the straw hat that half shades her features to the beautiful little ankle and foot in the wide satin shoe, the short embroidered petticoat and the riboso thrown over one shoulder. A handsome Indian selling pulque and branding her little shop with every variety of liquor temptingly displayed in rows of shining bottles to her customers. The grouping and coloring perfect and the whole interior arrangement of the shop imitated with the most perfect exactness. There is also a horrid representation frightfully correct of a dead body in a state of corruption which it makes one sick to look at and which it is inconceivable that anyone can have had pleasure in executing. In short, there is scarcely anything in nature upon which her talent has not exercised itself. Yesterday we visited a seminario or college, a fine spacious old building kept in good repair. The rector conducted us over the whole establishment. There is a small well chosen library containing all the most classic works in Spanish, German, French and English, and a larger library containing Greek and Latin authors, theological works, etc. A large hall with chemical and other scientific apparatus, and a small chapel where there is a beautiful piece of sculpture in wood, the San Pedro by a young man, a native of Valladolid, so exquisitely wrought that one cannot but regret that such a genius should be buried here, should not at least have the advantage of some years studying Italy where he might become a second canova. One must visit these distant cities and see these great establishments to be fully aware of all that the Spaniards bestowed upon their colonies, and also to be convinced of the regret for former times which is felt amongst the most distinguished men of the Republic, in fact by all who are old enough to compare what has been with what is. I ought not to omit in talking of the natural productions of Valladolid to mention that it is famous for fleas. We have been alarmed by the miraculous stories related to us of these vivacious animals and were rejoiced to find ourselves in a house from which by dint of extreme care they are banished. But in the ins and inferior houses they are said to be a perfect pestilence, sometimes literally walking away with a piece of matting upon the floor and covering the walls in myriads. The nuns, it is said, are or were in the habit of harnessing them to little carriages and of showing them off by their ingenious devices. We rode out in the evening to meet our friends from Uruapa, who were expected to arrive yesterday. I upon a very formidable and handsome cavalry horse, rather above his work which some expected to run away, and others to throw me off at which might have done both but being a noble creature did neither. We did not meet our friends who, having been delayed on their road, only arrived this evening. We have therefore decided to remain here till tomorrow afternoon when we shall continue our journey homewards by San Bartolo. Life in Mexico by Francis Calderón de la Barca, letter the fifty first. San Bartolo, Mass Market, Rancheros, San Andrés, Insanity, Rancho, House of Don Carlos Hamburger, Wild Scenery, German Songs, Las Mias, Leaf Taking, Storm, Rainbow, El Pilar, La Gambia, Toluca, News, Copper, Pronunciamiento, Return to Mexico, General Morán, Funeral Obsequies, New Theatre, Cox Mass, Santa Clara, Santa Fe Prisoners, New Year. And Hangueo, Fourteenth After taking leave of all our hospitable friends in Morelia, we set off in the afternoon and had a delightful ride to San Bartolo. Fortunately, the following day, Sunday, was that of the Virgin of Guadalupe, one of the greatest festivals here, so that we had an opportunity of seeing all the people from the different villages who arrived in the courtyard by daybreak and held a market in front of the hacienda. Various were the articles for sale and picturesque the dresses of the sellers. From cakes, chile, atole, and groundnuts to rebosos and bead rosaries, nothing was omitted. In one part of the market, the sturdy rancheros were drinking pulque and devouring hot cakes. In another, little boys were bargaining for nuts and bananas. Country women were offering low prices for smart rebosos. An Indian woman was recommending a comb with every term of endearment, to a young country girl who seemed perfectly ignorant of its use, assuring her customer that it was an instrument for unraveling the hair and making it beautiful and shining, and enforcing her argument by combing through some of the girl's tangled locks. Before breakfast we went to mass in the large chapel of the hacienda. We and the family went to the choir, and the body of the chapel was filled with rancheros and their wives. It is impossible to see anywhere a finer race of men than these rancheros, tall, strong, and well-made, with their embroidered shirts, coarse sarapes, and dark blue pantaloons embroidered in gold. After mass the marketing recommended and the rebosos had a brisk sale. A number were brought by the men for their wives, or novias, at home which reminds me of a story of blanks, of a poor Indian woman in their village who desired her husband to buy a pedico for her in Mexico, where he was going to sell his vegetables. She particularly impressed upon him that she wished it to be the color of the sky, which at sunrise when he was setting off was of a flaming red. He returned in the evening bringing to her great indignation a pedico of a dusky gray, which happened to be the color of the sky when he made his purchase. In the evening we drove through the fields the servants and the young master of the house amusing themselves as they went by the chasing and colir of the bulls. They have one small, ugly, yellow-colored bull which they call tame, and which the mausoles ride familiarly. They persuaded me to try this novel species of riding, a man holding the animal's head with a rope, but I thought that it tossed its horns in a most uncomfortable and alarming manner and very soon slipped off. We stopped, during our ride, at a house where the proprietors make a small fortune by the produce of their numerous beehives, and walked along the banks of a fine clear river, winding through beautiful and verdant groves. The next morning by six o'clock we were again on horseback and took leave of San Bartolo. We rode by in Damparapeo, a considerable village, with sloping shingle roofs in about ten, reached Quirandero, breakfasted with Señor Pimentel, and then continued our journey toward San Andrés, where we were to pass the night. We had a horse with us which occasionally fell down on the road, shivering all over, groaning, and apparently dying, but which had twice recovered from these fits. But this day, having stopped beside a running stream to water our horses, the unfortunate beast fell again, and when we had remounted and were riding forward a servant galloped after us to tell us that the horse was dead at last, so we left him to his lonely grave by the river's side. Great therefore was our amazement when sometime after we perceived him treading along the road at a great rate in pursuit of his party apparently quite recovered. We passed the night at San Andrés a poor venta, but clean, consisting of three empty rooms, a spirit shop, and a kitchen. Our escorts leapt in the piazza, rolled in their sarapes. Our beds were stuck up in the empty rooms, and we got some supper upon foul and tortillas. We were interested by the melancholy air of a poor woman who sat aloof on the piazza, uncared for and noticing no one. We spoke to her, and found that she was insane, wandering from village to village, and subsisting on charity. She seemed gentle and harmless but the very picture of misery, and quite alone in the world having lost all her family. But God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb. We saw her again in the morning, before we set off and saw her get some breakfast in the kitchen. The poor people of the venta seemed kind to her. They who dwell in comfortable houses, surrounded by troops of friends, and who repine at their lot, would do well to compare it with that of such a being. This morning we left San Andrés and have had a pleasant ride in spite of a hard trotting horse, which fell to my lot. Impossible to conceive more beautiful scenery than that which we passed through today. Some of the hills have a singular formation, each large hill appearing composed of a variety of smaller ones, of a pyramidal shape. We rode through Taximaura without stopping and breakfasted at a rancho where the whole family were exceedingly handsome. Ferrancero himself was a model for a fine-looking farmer, hospitable and well-bred, knowing his place yet without any servility. Ferrancerita, who was engaged in the kitchen, was so handsome that we made every possible excuse for going to look at her. About four o'clock we once more crossed the hills and came down upon the plains by which we left Anhuanghuo, and passed over a river as red as blood that looked as if hostile armies had been engaged in fierce combat by its banks and their bodies rolled in the tide. This ensanguine hue is, however, caused not by warlike steel but by peaceful copper, not peaceful in its effects, by the way at this moment, for the whole country more or less is in commotion on the subject of copper coin. You must know that some few years ago the value of copper was suddenly reduced by law to one-half, causing a great loss to all but much distress to the poor. The intrinsic value of the copper, however, bore so little relation to the value given to it, that it was a very productive business to counterfeit it, of which many unprincipled individuals availed themselves to such an extent that it had almost become an openly exercised branch of industry all through the Republic. When Santana became provisional president he ordered that all the copper coin, whose currency was now reduced to six or eight percent, below par, should be given into certain deposits which he named promising to repay it in genuine coin of real value. But this naturally caused a still greater depreciation, bringing it down as low as sixty percent, and still greater discontent, the people having little faith in the promise, and, in fact, the payment could not be made at the appointed time because there were not sufficient coining machines, and as a few new cents that did circulate were said not to contain their real value, the distress became greater than ever. The merchants refused to receive copper, and there was no silver or small change. In the meantime, in many of the large haciendas the proprietors have given checks to the workmen with which they have been able to buy what they required at the shops which are attached to these haciendas. The amount of the copper in circulation cannot be calculated for it is almost all counterfeit. It is supposed, however, to be at least from eight to nine millions of dollars. You may easily imagine the fortunes that will be made and as they say are being made by those of the government party who are buying up for sixty what will be paid them by favor of the government at the rate of a hundred. We rode up the hills that lead to the house of Don Carlos Heimberger, and were again hospitably received by him and his German friends. Nothing can have a finer effect than the view from the piazza of his house in the evening looking down upon the valley. The piazza itself has a screen of green creepers which have the effect of a curtain of a theater half drawn up. Behind the house rises a dark frowning hill in the form of a pyramid. In front is the deep ravine with the huts of the workmen, and while the moon throws her quivering beams over the landscape, the metallic fires of livid blue light up the valley. There is something wild and diabolic in the scene, and as the wind howls around the valley with a dismal sound it seems as if one were looking on at some unholy, magical incantation, so that it is pleasant to return after a while to the comfortable rooms and cheerful fires within which have so homely and domestic and air. We hope to spend tomorrow here and the following day to go on to Toluca from whence I shall continue my letter. Toluca, nineteenth. The next day we visited the works which are like all others, accepting that here they do not use quick silver to extract the silver from the lead, but do so by the process of oxidation by the means of a reverberatory furnace. The people generally have an unhealthy appearance as nearly all have who are engaged in these works, the air being loaded with particles of metal. After visiting the mills and the sheds where the process of oxidation is carried on and admiring the metallic riches of these mountains, we left the hot and poisoned atmosphere and walked up the mountains, clothed with a hardy vegetation, with every noble tree and flowering shrub, and pursued our course till we came to a fine waterfall, which plunges from a great height over the gigantic rocks. The scenery here is rude and wild. The great rocks are covered with hardy trees, the pine, the cedar, the oak, and the flowering laurel. The river after dashing down in this noble cascade runs brawling amongst the forest clothed hills till it reaches the plains and flows on placently. We spent an agreeable day wandering amongst the mountains and when we returned sat on the piazza to watch the moon as her broad disc rose over the valley, and the fierce blue lights that made her mild fires grow pale. All Germans are musical, and the gentlemen in this house did not belie the national reputation. After dinner a bright fire blazing, doors and windows shutting out the cold air that whistled along the hills, they struck up in chorus some of the finest national airs, particularly the hymn to the Rhine, so that it seemed an illusion that we were in this wild mining district, inhabited only by the poorest Indians, and we were transported thousands of miles off across the broad Atlantic, even to the land where. The castled crag of dragonfells frowns over the broad and winding Rhine. We also amused ourselves by examining Madame B's album, and if those milk and water volumes belonging to young ladies, where young gentlemen write prettinesses, he called albums. Some other name should be found for a book, where some of the most distinguished artists in Germany have left proofs of their talent, and where there is not one page which does not contain something striking and original. Nothing pleased me so much as the fanciful illustration of the beautiful legend of Lorelai, which Madame B read to us with great feeling. We became too comfortable here for hardy equestrian travelers, and had we stayed much longer, should have begun to complain of tough fowls, beds in barns, and other inconveniences, which we had hitherto laughed at. But we tore ourselves away from our capois, and on the morning of the sixteenth set off for El Pilar. Don Carlos Heimberger, M. and Madame B, etc., accompanied us for seven leagues all through the woods. We had a delightful ride, the day was cool and cloudy, and we were, besides, constantly shaded by the noble forest trees. But we had not reached Las Mias before the sky was overcast, the clouds became black and gloomy, and at length broke out in rain. We galloped fast for the day besides being rainy was cold, and in the afternoon reached Las Mias. Here we breakfasted in the little portico, which we preferred to the interior of the cottage, chiefly upon tortillas and boiled de jocotes, a fruit which grows in great abundance and resembles a small apple. Here again we were two Indian girls of admirable beauty, dance le genre, baking tortillas. We were now obliged to part from our kind to German friends and to ride across the plains. But had not gone more than halfway when the clouds burst forth in torrents, pouring their fury on our devoted heads so that in five minutes we were all drenched as if we had fallen into a river. We took shelter for a little while under a solitary spreading tree, but the storm increased in violence and it was advisable to gallop forwards in order to arrive at El Pilar before it became dark. Suddenly the most beautiful rainbow I ever beheld smiled out from amongst the watery clouds. It formed a complete and well-defined arch of the most brilliant colors in the heavens reflected by another on the plains, which, uniting with it, blended its fainter hues with the light of the heavenly bow. We arrived at El Pilar, tired and drenched and greatly in need of the hospitable reception which was given to us by its mistress. The following morning we set off early for La Gabia, feeling some regret that our journey was drawing to a close. Some of us who rode in front found ourselves surrounded by several suspicious looking, while armed men on horseback who, under pretence of asking some questions, rode very close to us and then stopped and faced round on their horses, but there was no danger, our escort being at a short distance and when they observed its approach they bestowed no further attention upon us. Don Xavier Hechavaria had returned to Mexico, but we were cordially welcomed by his brother-in-law Tan Manuel, Gerospe, and so kindly pressed to remain some days at nothing, but our limited time would have induced us to set off next morning for Toluca. Here we arrived last night, having performed our journey by a different and more agreeable road than that of the three hundred barancas. We entered Toluca by moonlight and found that respectable city all in commotion on the subject of copper, presenting a very different aspect from the quiet and conventional air of repose which distinguished it little more than a month ago. Yesterday Colonel Y., who had accompanied us during all this journey, left us to return to Michoacan, having thus brought us back in safety, to the point from which we started. We are spending a very tiresome day in the inn which, however, is a more decent place and belongs to a better line of coaches than the other. We have been enlivened by several visits, amongst others, from the commandant and from an aided camp of General Valencias. For the first time since we left it we have news from Mexico. Santa Ana de Don is now dictator of king in all but the name, affecting more than royal pomp, yet endeavouring by his affability to render himself popular. Above all, he has made known his determination of not seizing an inch of ground belonging to the clergy, which seizure of church property was the favourite idea of parades and the progressistas. This resolution he has not printed, probably in order not to disgust that party, but his personal declaration to the Archbishop and the Padres of the Professor, and in a letter to the Bishop of Puebla, is that he will not only leave their property untouched, but that, where he out of power he would draw his sword in their defence for that, good or bad, he is a sincere Catholic. This has done so much to establish him in the good opinion of the clergy, and it is said that in every convent in Mexico, monks and nuns are now wearying heaven with prayers in his behalf. In short, the conquerors and the conquerors, those of the progress and those of the dictatorships, seem all, barring a few noble exceptions actuated by one motive, and that is the general interest. Count C.A. is restored to the command of his battalion del Comercio, which has been re-established, it having deserted to the Federalists in the last revolution. It appears that the President's favourite plan is to have thirty thousand men under arms, and there is little doubt that he will bring this about. Sixteen new generals have been created, and General Tornel is made a general of division. The senora V.A. has given a ball at which she and other ladies appeared with trains rehearsing as it would seem before the court drawing rooms. I was told, and by good authority, that the present sent by Santana to the Lady of the Commander-in-Chief on her birthday was a box containing three generals' belts, with a request that she would bestow them on those whom she considered most deserving of them, and that the Lady herself buckled the sashes on her favourite nights in her own boudoir. This was valour rewarded by the hand of beauty, and thus she deserved in arms be crowned. Meanwhile the Master of the House presents himself with a disturbed and gloomy countenance, and doubts much whether we can have any dinner today, because no one will sell anything, either for copper or silver, moreover hints darkly that they expect a copper pronunciamiento tomorrow, and observe that the shops are shut up. Since we could get no dinner, we went out to take a walk, and we think that olucanos have a fierce and agitated aspect. We attempted to go to mass this morning, but there was a congregation of leperos, who filled not only the church but the whole enclosure and the street beyond, so that we could not even approach the church door. Unfortunately we cannot get a diligence until twenty-first. They have brought us at last, I will not say dinner, but something to eat. Twentyth. This morning the firing of squibs, the beating of drums, the shouting and confusion on the streets, announced that the raigamuffin population of Toluca had turned out, and going to the balcony I very nearly received the salutation of a skyrocket in my eye. Orders have been given out by the alcalde, that copper shall be received in payment by the merchants, some of whom have declared they will only receive silver. A large mob has collected before the alcalde's door, with shouts of Viva la plata, muerta el cobre, long-lived silver, death to copper, apostrophizing these useful metals as if they were two generals. The merchants have issued a declaration that during three days only they will sell their goods for copper, of course at an immense advantage to themselves. The Indians and the poorer classes are now rushing to the shops and buying goods, leaving in return for their copper about half its value. If Santana keeps his word, the patriotism of the merchants will be rewarded. C. N. has just had a visit from one of the merchants who wishes his conduct to be represented in a proper light in Mejico. Mejico. Twenty Second. With much joy we stepped into the diligence early yesterday morning accompanied by the commandant of Toluca, and retraced our road to Mejico, for though Toluca is a fine city with clean airy houses, wide well-paved streets, and picturesque in its situation, there is something sad and deserted in its appearance, an air of stagnation that weighs upon the spirits, and the specimens we have seen of its lower orders are not inviting. We had, rather, an agreeable journey as the day was cool, and we had the diligence to ourselves. We breakfasted again at Quahimalpa, took leave of the interesting, its quinte bodzotli, still hanging from its hook and again ascended the eminence from which Mejico suddenly bursts upon the view, and after a short absence with all the charms of novelty. Before we arrived at Takubaya we were met by a carriage containing Senor E. and his lady, who insisted on our leaving the diligence and carried us off to their own house where we now are. On the second of January we expect to take our final departure from the great city of the lake. December 28. Another old year about to chime in, another Christmas passed away, but during these last few days it has been all in vain to attempt finishing my letter between making arrangements for our journey, receiving and returning visits, going to the opera and seeing and revisiting all that we had left unseen or wished to see again before leaving this. People seemed determined that we shall regret them and lotus with kindness and attentions, the more flattering that now at least they are entirely personal and cannot proceed from an interested motive. We have reason to thank them both steady and sincere in their friendship. General Moran has died, universally regretted. He has been embalmed according to the system of Ganal and his funeral was performed with extraordinary magnificence. The troops out, the foreign ministers and the cabinet following on foot, the former in full uniform and a great train of carriages reaching along the whole Caille San Francisco from the church to the square. The body dressed in a general's uniform was carried upon a splendid bire, and was so perfectly embalmed that he seemed not dead nor even asleep, but lying in an attitude of repose. The expense of this operation will probably prevent its ever becoming very common, and certainly there are but few cases where it can be advisable to adopt it. An embalmed dynasty might be a curious sight. To trace the features of a royal line from Charlemagne to Charles X, from Alfred to William IV would be a strange study. Mary of Scotland and Elizabeth, lying in the repose of death yet looking as they lived and hated centuries back, might be a curious piece of antiquity. A Hernán Cortés, a Washington, a Columbus, a Napoleon, men whose memory for good or for evil will survive time and change. It would be a strange and wondrous thing if we could look on their features as they were in life. But it is to be trusted that this method of successful wrestling with the earth for what it claims as its due will not generally prevail, or at the end of a few centuries the embalmed population would scarce leave room for their living and breathing descendants, nor is it an agreeable idea that one might, in a lapse of ages, grace the study of an antiquary or be preserved amongst the curiosities of a museum. I would stuff birds and beasts and preserve them in cabinets but not the remains of immortal men, dust unto dust, and the eye of faith turned from the peraging remains to the spirit which has gone to the God who gave it. The function performed in the general's honor within the church was as magnificent as eglisiastic and military splendor could render it. We were in the gallery above. The beer placed on a lofty scaffolding covered with black velvet and lighted with wax tapers was placed near the altar. The music was solemn and impressive. Every respect has been shown to the deceased general by Santa Ana's orders, accepting the core diplomatic and the officers all within the church are in deep mourning. The chief difficulty we have in arranging our affairs here consists in the imperfect impossibility of persuading any tradesman to keep his word. They name the day, the hour, the minute at which they are to be with you, or at which certain goods are to be sent to you. They are affronted if you doubt their punctuality and the probability is you never hear of them or their goods again. If they are not exact for their own interest they will not be so for yours. And although we have had frequent proofs of this carelessness, we are particularly annoyed by it now that we are within a few days of our departure. During our residence here we have had little to do with shops and shopkeepers, having found it more convenient and economical to send to Paris or even to the United States for all articles of dress. Now, though everything must still be comparatively dear, the bad times have caused a great reduction in prices, and dear as all goods are they would still be dear of worried not for the quantity that is smuggled into the Republic. There are an amazing number of French shopkeepers, French tailors, headers, shoemakers, apothecaries, etc., but especially French modists and peruquiers. The charges of the former are exorbitant, the latter are little employed except by gentlemen. There are also many Spanish shops, some German and a few English, but I think the French preponderate. We went some time ago to see the Montepio, which is under the auspices of Senor Tagli, and it is melancholy enough to see the profusion of fine diamonds and pearls that are displayed in these large halls. After a certain time has elapsed, without their being redeemed, the pledged articles are sold, gold and silver in whatever form, by the weight, but jewels for their intrinsic value. There is a sale once a week. We were shown privately the jewels of the Virgin de los Remedios, which are very superb. There is a small theatre, lately established, called the Theatre of New Mexico, where there is a Spanish company, the same whom we saw two years ago in Veracruz. They are drawing away various persons from the principal theatre. Their object seems to be to make people laugh, and they succeed. On Christmas Eve we went there to see the Gracioso, Harlequin, in a woman's dress, Tripoli, an old Spanish dance accompanied with singing. They introduced some appropriate lines concerning the later troubles about the copper which were received with great applause. Just as they were concluding the Tripoli, a young gentleman in the pit I do not know whether Mejican or Spanish rose and waving his hand after the manner of a man about to make an address, and requesting attention kindly favoured the audience with some verses of his own, which were received with great good nature, the actors bowing to him and the pit applauding him. It seemed to me a curious piece of philanthropy on his part. At midnight we went to the church of Santa Clara to attend what is called the Misa del Gallo, the cox mass, which is private, only respectable persons being admitted by a private entrance, for midnight mass in Mexico takes place with shut doors as all nightly reunions are dreaded. Santa Clara being attached to the convent of that name will remain after mass, to see the white-robed sisters receive the sacrament from the hands of a priest by the small side door that opens from the convent to the church. The church was lighted but the convent was in darkness, and looking in through the grating we could only distinguish the outline of their kneeling figures enveloped in their white drapery and black veils. I do not think there were a dozen persons in the church besides ourselves. A good deal of interest has been excited here lately about the Texian prisoners taken in the Santa Fe expedition, the first detachment of whom have arrived after a march of nearly two thousand miles, and are now lodged in the convent of Santiago about two miles from the center of the city. As their situation is represented to be very miserable and as it is said that they have been stripped of their hats, shoes, and coats, some of the Jamaican families and, amongst others, that of Don Francisco Tagle, regardless of political enmity, have subscribed to send them a supply of linen and other necessary articles which they carried out there themselves. Being invited to accompany them to Santiago, I did so, and we found the common men occupying the courtyard and the officers the large hall of the convent. So far they have been treated as prisoners of war generally are, but it is said to be the intention of Santa Ana to have them put in chains and sent out to sweep the streets with the miserable prisoners of the Accordada. Colonel C., who was presented to me, seemed to treat the whole affair very lightly, as the fortune of war and had evidently no idea that any such fate was in store for them, seeming rather amused by the dress of the monks whom we now saw for the first time. In the Mexicans generally there seems very little if any vindictive feeling against them, on the contrary a good deal of interest in their favor mingled with some curiosity to see them. The common men appeared more impatient and more out of spirits in the officers, which I'll probably know nothing more of their fate before leaving Mexico. We had some intention of paying a last visit to the museum before we went, and Don José María Bustamante, a friend of ours, Professor of Botany, and considered a man of learning was prepared to receive us, but we were prevented from going. I must, however, find some time to answer your question as to the population. The Mexican Republic is supposed to contain upwards of seven millions of inhabitants, the capital, two hundred thousand. Their number cannot be exactly fixed, as there has been no general census for some time. A labor in which a commission with Count Cortina at its head has been employed for some time in the past, and the result of which will be published shortly. All other questions must be replied to De Viva Voix. I must now conclude my last letter written from this place, for we are surrounded by visitors day and night, and to say the truth feel that it is only the prospect of returning to our family, which we can counterbalance the unfeint regret we feel at living our friends in Mexico. My next letter will most probably be dated from Veracruz, and of letter, the fifty-first. Letter the fifty-second 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 Francesca Alderón de la Barca. Letter the fifty-second. Stay in Mexico. Theatre. Santa Ana. French Ministers. Parting. Diligence. Last Look of Mexico. Fatigue. Robbers. Escort. Second Impressions. Baths at Halapa. Veracruz. Some account of San Juan de Iluá. Siege of 1825. Siege of 1838. General Bustamante. Theatre. Have the North Winds. Veracruz. Sixth. January. 1842. Having concluded our arrangements for leaving Mexico on the second of January, we determined as the Diligence started long before daybreak not to attempt taking any rest that night. We went out early and took leave of the Dowager Marquesa de Vivanco, who was confined to the house by illness and whose kindness to us has been unremitting ever since our arrival. It is a sad thing to take leave of a person of her age, and in her delicate state of health whom there is scarcely a possibility of our ever seeing again. Some days before, we parted also from one of our oldest friends here, the Countess C.A. The last day besides the Spaniards who have been our constant friends and visitors ever since we came here, we had melancholy visits of Adu, from Señor Gomez Padrasa and his lady, from the families of Echavari, of Faguaga, Cortina, Escandon, Casa Flores, and many whose names are unknown to you. Amongst others was the Guerra Rodríguez. About eight o'clock accompanied even to the door of the carriage by a number of ladies who were with us to the last, and amongst these were P.A., C.A. and L.Z., E.N. We broke short all these sad partings, and with the A.S. and the family of the French minister, set off with the Theatre of New Mexico. I can imagine your surprise at such a finale, but it was the only means left us of finishing a painful scene, and of beguiling the weary hours yet remaining before the diligence started, for it was in vain to think of rest or sleep that night. The theatre was very crowded, the play and amusing piece of Diablere, called a pata de cabra, the goat's foot, badly got up, of course, as its effect depends upon scenery and machinery. I believe it was very entertaining, but I cannot say we felt inclined to enter into the spirit of it. The family of General V.A. were there, and this being the day of a great diplomatic dinner given by Santa Ana, various officers and diplomates came in late and in full dress. I was informed by one of the company that six colonels stood the whole time of dinner behind his Excellency's chair. I wonder what French officer would do as much for Louis Philippe, Vogue le Galler, from the theatres which concluded about one which drove to the house of the blank minister, where we spent a very grave half-hour and then returned home with a very splendid brioche of generous proportions, which Madame la Baronne de Blanc had kindly prepared for our journey. Arrived at the A.S.'s, we sat down to supper and never was there a sadder meal than this, when for the last time we sat at the hospital-board of these our earliest and latest Mexican friends. We were thankful when it was all over and we had taken leave and when accompanied to the inn by Senor A.D. and other gentlemen we found ourselves fairly lodged in the diligence on a dark and rather cold morning, sad, sleepy and shivering. All Mejico was asleep when we drove out of the gates. The very houses seemed sunk in slumber. So terminated our last Mejican New Year's Day. When we reached the eminence from which is the last view of the valley, the first dawn of day was just breaking over the distant city. The white summits of the volcanoes were still enveloped in mist and the lake was veiled by low clouds of vapor, that rose slowly from its surface, and this was our last glimpse of Mejico. The diligence is now on a new and most fatiguing plan of travelling night and day after leaving Puebla, so that, starting from Mejico at four o'clock in the morning of the second of January, it arrives in Veracruz early on the morning of the fifth, saving a few hours and nearly killing the travellers. The government had granted us escorts for the whole journey, now more than ever necessary. It was five in the afternoon when we reached Puebla, and we set off again by dawn the next morning. We had just left the gates, and our escort which had rode forward was concealed by some rising ground when by the faint light we perceived some half-dozen-mounted cavaliers making stealthily up to us across the fields. Their approach was first discerned by Spanish lady who was with us, and who was travelling with strings of pearl and valuable diamonds concealed about her person, which made her peculiarly sharp-sighted on the occasion. Ladrones, said she, and everyone repeated ladrones in different intonations. They rode across the fields, came up pretty close to the diligence, and reconnoitred us. I was too sleepy to be frightened and reconnoitred them in return with only one eye open. The coachman whipped up his horses, the escort came inside, and the gentleman struck into the fields again. The whole passed, in a minute or so. The soldiers of the escort came riding back to the diligence, and the captain, galloping up to the window, gave himself great credit for having frightened away the robbers. We arrived at Pérote when it was nearly dusk, supped and started again at eleven o'clock at night. We passed a horrible night in the diligence and were thankful when daybreak showed us the beautiful environs of Halapa. It is singular that on a second impression returning by this road the houses appear handsomer than they did before, and nature less beautiful. I conclude that this is to be accounted for simply from the circumstance of the eye, having become accustomed both to the works of nature and of man which characterizes this country. The houses which had first appeared gloomy, large and comfortless, habit has reconciled us to, and experience has taught us that they are precisely suited to this climate of perpetual spring. The landscape with its eternal flowers and verdure no longer astonishes and bewilders us as when we first arrived from a country where, at that season, all nature lies buried in snow. Besides, in our last journey through Michoacan we have passed through scenes even more striking and beautiful than these. Then the dresses which had first appeared so romantic, the high, moorish-looking saddle, the golden broidered manja, the large hat shading the swarthy faces of the men, the coloured petticoat and reboso and long black hair of the women, though still picturesque, have no longer the charm of novelty, and do not attract our attention. The winter also has been unusually severe for Michoacan, and some slight frosts have caused the flowers of this natural garden to fade, and besides all this we were tired and sleepy and jolted, and knew that we had but an hour or two to remain, and had another day and night of purgatory in prospect. Still as we passed along the shady lanes amongst the dark chitimoyas, the green-leaved bananas and all the variety of beautiful trees, entwined with their graceful creepers, we were forced to confess that winter has little power over these fertile regions, and that in spite of the leveller, habit such a landscape can never be passed through with indifference. Arrived at Halapa we refreshed ourselves with the luxury of a bath, having to pass through half the city before we reached, the bathing establishment, from which there is the most beautiful view of wood, water, and mountain that it is possible to behold. The baths are the property of a lady who has a cotton factory and a good house in the city, and fortunate she is in possessing a sufficient portion of worldly goods, since as she informed us she is the mother of twenty children. She herself, in appearance, was little more than thirty. We then returned to breakfast, and shortly after left Halapa. I will not inflict upon you a second description of the same journey, of Blan del Río, with its clear river and little inn, of Puerta del Rey, with a solid majestic bridge thrown over the deep ravine, through which rushes the impetuous river Antigua, or of how we were jolted over the road leading to Paso de Oveja, etc. Suffice it to say that we passed a night which is between suffocating heat, horrible jolting, and extreme fatigue was nearly intolerable. Stopping to change horses at Sant de Fe we saw by the light of the torches which they brought to the door that we were once more among bamboo huts and palm trees. Towards morning we heard the welcome sound of the waves, giving us joyful token that our journey was drawing to a close. Yet when we entered Vera Cruz and got out of the diligence, we felt like prisoners, who have been so long confined in a dungeon, they are incapable of enjoying their liberty. We were so thoroughly worn out and exhausted. How different from the agreeable kind of fatigue which we used to feel after a long day's journey on horseback. Breakfast and a fresh toilette had, however, their due influence. We were in an hotel and had hardly breakfasted when our friend, Don Dionisio Velasco, with some other gentleman, arrived and kindly reproaching us for preferring an inn to his house, carried us and our luggage off to his fine airy dwelling, where we now are and where a good night's rest has made us forget all our fatigues. As we must remain here for one or two days we shall have time to see a little more of the city, and already upon a second survey, sad and dilapidated as it now appears, I can more readily imagine what it must have been in former days before it was visited by the scourge of civil war. The experience of two Macon revolutions makes it more easy for us to conceive the extent to which this unfortunate city must have suffered in the struggle made by the Spaniards to preserve the castle their last bulwark in this hemisphere. San Juan de Uluwa, in spite of the miserable condition in which it now is, remains a lasting memorial of the great works which almost immediately after their arrival on these shores were undertaken by the Spanish conquerors. In 1682, sixty-one years after they had set foot on Aztec soil, they began this fortress in order to confirm their power. The center of the space which it occupies is a small island, where the Spaniard Juan de Grijalva arrived one year before Cortés reached the Macon continent. Having found the remains of two human victims there, they asked the natives why they sacrificed men to their idols, and receiving for answer that it was by orders of the kings of Acolloa the Spaniards gave the island the name of Uluwa by a natural corruption of that word. It is pretended that the fortress cost four millions, and though this immense sum is no doubt an exaggeration, the expense must have been very great when we consider that its foundations are below the water, and that for nearly three centuries it has resisted all the force of the stormy waves that continually beat against it. Many improvements and additions are gradually made to the castle, and in the time of the Viceroy's, a first-rate engineer paid it an annual visit to ascertain its condition and to consider its best mode of defense in case of an attack. In 1806 however Veracruz was sacked by the English Corsair Nicolas Aguilmont, incited by Juan de Lorencio, who had been condemned to death for murder in Veracruz and had escaped to Jamaica. Seven millions of dollars were carried off besides three hundred persons of both sexes, whom the pirates abandoned on the island of Sacrificios when they re-embarked. In 1771 the Viceroy, then the Marquis de la Croix, remitted a million and a half dollars to the governor in order that he might put the castle in a state of defense, and the strong bulwarks which still remain attest the labor that has been bestowed upon it. The outer polygon which looks towards Veracruz is three hundred yards in extent, to the north it is defended by another of two hundred yards, whilst a low battery is situated as a rearguard in the bastion of Santiago, and on the opposite front is the battery of San Miguel. The whole fortress is composed of a stone which abounds in this neighboring island a species of coral, excellent for building, Piedra Mucara. In 1822 no stronghold of Spanish power remained but this castle, whose garrison was frequently reinforced by troops from Havana. Veracruz itself was then inhabited by wealthy and influential Spaniards. Santa Ana then commanded in the province under the orders of Echavari, the captain general, and with instructions from Yutúrpire, relative to the taking of the castle. The commandant was a Spanish general Don José Davila. It was not, however, till the following year when Lemaur succeeded Davila in the command of the citadel that hostilities were begun by bombarding Veracruz. Men, women, and children then abandoned the city. The merchants went to Alvarado, twelve leagues off whilst those who were driven from their houses by a shower of balls sought a miserable asylum amongst the burning plains and miserable huts in the environs. Some made their way to Alapa, thirty leagues off, others to Cordova and Orizava equally distant. With some interruptions hostilities lasted two years, during which there was nearly a constant firing from the city to the castle and from the castle to the city. The object of General Baragán, now commander-in-chief, was to cut off all communication between the garrison of the castle and the coasts and to reduce them to live solely upon salt provisions fatal in this warm and unhealthy country. In 1824 the garrison diminished to a mere handful, was replaced by five hundred men from the peninsula and very soon these soldiers shut up in the barren rocks surrounded by water and exposed to the dangers of the climate without provisions and without assistance were reduced to the most miserable condition. The next year Don José Coppinger succeeded Lemaur and continued hostilities with a fresh figure. This brave general, with his valiant troops surrounded by the sick and the dying, provisions growing scarcer every day and those that remained corrupt and unfit to eat, yet resolved to do his duty and hold out to the last. No assistance arrived from Spain. A Macon fleet was stationed off the island of Sacrificios and other ports to attack any squadron that might come from thence, while the north winds blew with violence keeping back all ships that might approach the coasts. Gods and men says a furious Republican. Zavala, the Spaniards had to contend with having against them hunger, sickness, the fire and balls of the enemies, a furious sea covered with reefs, a burning atmosphere, and above all being totally ignorant as to whether they should receive any assistance. The minister of the treasury Esteva then came from Mexico and proposed a capitulation, and the Spanish general agreed that should no assistance arrive within a certain time, he would give up the fortress, evacuating it with his whole garrison and with the suitable honors. The Spanish succors arrived a few days before the term was expired, but the commander of the squadron, seeing the superiority in point of numbers of the Macon fleet, judged it prudent to return to Havana to augment his forces. But it was too late. On the fifteenth of September the brave General Copinger, with a few troops that remained to him, marched out of the fortress terminating the final struggle against the progress of revolution, but upholding to the last the character for constancy and valor, which distinguished the sons of ancient Spain. Of its last assault by the French squadron in 1838 there is no need to say anything. Every newspaper, as you will remember, gave an account of the capitulation of what the French gazettes called San Juan de Uluwa, the Saint Gen de Arc of the New World, which our mariner saluted as the Queen of the Seas, Verges San Stashe, etc. Sixth. We have just had a visit from General Bustamante, who with his Eite camp, a son of General Calderón, formerly Governor of Halapa, intends shortly to sail in the Chasen for Havana. We have also had a visit from the commander of that vessel, Captain Puente, who succeeded our friend Captain E.A., and who has been kindly endeavouring to make arrangements for taking us also, not having before, been aware of our intentions of living Veracruz at this period. But although we should have much pleasure in returning by the vessel that brought us, we fear that without putting the officers to great inconvenience it will be impossible for them to accommodate so many, for we know the Carvedo pays. It is therefore probable that we shall go by the English packet which sails on the Eighth, but unfortunately goes round by Tampico not very agreeable at this season. We went to Mass this morning, which was said to be particularly crowded in consequence of the general desire to catch a glimpse of the ex-president. I find, personally, an important change in taste if not in opinion. Veracruz's cookery, which two years ago I thought detestable now appears to be delicious. What excellent fish and what incomparable frioles! Well, this is a trifle, but after all, in trifles as in matters of moment, how necessary for a traveller to compare his judgments at different periods, and to correct them. First impressions are of great importance if given only as such, but if laid down as decided opinions, how apt they are to be erroneous. It is like judging of individuals by their physiognomy and manners without having had time to study their character. We all do so more or less, but how frequently we find ourselves deceived. Seventh. We went to the theatre last evening. In the boxes there were only a lady and a gentleman besides our party. The pit, however, was full, but there were no good actors at present. We have been walking about today notwithstanding the heat, purchasing some necessary articles from French modests and French perfumers, most of whom, having got over the fever, are not very well satisfied to remain here and make their fortune. We afterwards walked down to the moly and saw the pleasantest sight that has met our eyes since we left Mexico, the sea covered with ships. It was refreshing to look again on the dark blue waves after so long an absence from them. Commodore Blanc of Mexico, who was present, pointed out that Jason and their Tyrion, Captain Griffin lying out in the harbour, and strongly recommended us to go in the latter as to the English consul with proper patriotism. We have requested him to take our births when he goes to visit the captain on board this evening. No sooner has this been done beyond recall than we found that comfortable arrangements have been made for taking us in the Jason, which goes direct to Havana. It is now too late, so we can only regret our precipitation. There is another beautiful Spanish vessel just arrived, the Liberal, Captain Rubla Cava. Who, with Captain Puente of the Jason, has been to see us this evening. If the wind holds fair, the packet sails to-morrow, but the experienced predict a norther. The symptoms of this terrible wind which blows in the Mexican Gulf from the autumnal to the vernal equinox are no not only to the sailors but to all those who have lived some time in this city. The variation in the barometer is a surest sign. A land breeze from the northwest first blows gently, then varies to the northeast, then changes to the south. The heat is then suffocating and the summits of all the great mountains appear cloudless and distinct against the deep blue sky while round their bays flows a veil of semi-transparent vapor. Suddenly the tempest bursts forth and all are instantaneously relieved, all but the poor mariners. The air becomes refreshed, clouds of dust come sweeping along the streets, driving away as it were the pestilential atmosphere. Then there is no fever in Veracruz. All communication is cut off between the castle and the city and between the city and all foreign shipping. Sometimes the norther lasts three or four days, sometimes even twelve. If it turns to a southerly breeze, the tempest generally returns. If it changes to the east or northeast, the breeze generally lasts three or four days, and the ships in the port take advantage of the intervals to escape and gain the high seas. These gales are particularly dreaded off the coasts of Tampico. Eighth. We sail in a few hours, the norte not having made its appearance, so that we expect to get clear of the coast before it begins. The Jason sails in a day or two unless prevented by the gale. We only knew this morning that it was necessary to provide mattresses and sheets, etc., for our births on board the packet. Fortunately all these articles are found ready made in this seaport town. We have just received a packet of letters, particularly acceptable, as bringing us news of home before our departure. I have also received two agreeable compagnons de voyage in the shape of books, Stefan's Central America and Washington Irving's Life of Margaret Davison, opportunity sent to me by Mr. Prescott. Our next letters will be written either at sea or from Tampico, end of letter, the fifties second.