August 6th.—This morning we had some very good music; Madame Castellan and the tenor, and Madame Cesari having passed some hours here, together with Madame la Baronne de ——- and a few other gentlemen and ladies. La Castellan was very amiable, and sang beautifully, but looked pale and fatigued. She has been very effective lately in the Somnambula. Madame Cesari was in great beauty.

About an hour after they had gone, the new Minister and his family made their entree into Mexico. It is now, however, too late for us to return till the autumn, as there is a great deal of fever at Vera Cruz; nor do we entirely give up hopes, as soon as C—-n shall be at leisure, of making another journey on horseback into the interior. There are, however, rumours of another pronunciamiento, and should this be the case, our present quarters next to the palace will be more distinguished than agreeable.

I have always had a curiosity to know why the Calle del Indio Triste (Street of the Sad Indian) was so called. We are on visiting terms with two or three houses in that street, and never pass those large black letters, which tell the passenger that this is the street of "The Sad Indian," without my imagination figuring to itself that here some tragedy connected with the conquest must have taken place. It was therefore with great joy that I fell upon an article in the "Mosaico Mejicano," purporting to give an explanation of this melancholy title-page to an otherwise very tolerable (in the way of houses) but very ill-paved street, where, amongst other handsome edifices, is the house of a rich Spaniard (Senor R—-o), remarkable for its beautiful entrance and elegant salons. It appears that there are different traditions respecting it. One, that shortly after the conquest, a rich cacique lived there, who acted as a spy on his Indian brethren, and informed the viceroy of all their plans and combinations against the government; but that on one occasion, having failed to inform his patrons of an intended mutiny, they seized this pretext for sequestrating his property:—that afterwards, poor, abandoned and despised, he sat down in the corner of the street, weeping his misfortune and meeting with no pity; until at length he abstained from all food for some days, and was found dead in the corner of the street, sitting in the same melancholy posture; that the viceroy declared his wealth crown property, and with the intention of striking terror into the hearts of the malcontents, caused a stone statue to be made representing the weeping Indian; that this statue was placed at the corner of the street, with its back to the wall, and so remained until, the house being pulled down, the statue was sent to the Museum, where it now is; the street retaining the name of the Sad Indian.

But there is another tradition mentioned concerning the origin of the name, more interesting and even more probable. It appears that the ground now occupied by this street is the site of the Palace of Axayacatl, the father of Montezuma, last Emperor of Mexico. In this spacious and magnificent palace the Spaniards were received and lodged, and, according to Torquemada, each in a separate apartment. There were a multitude of idols in this dwelling, and though they had no separate temple, various feasts were dedicated to them. After the conquest they were for the most part broken and destroyed, and it was only lately that, by accident, the head of the god of the waters, beautifully worked in serpentine marble, was discovered there; still, one statue had been preserved, that of an Indian, said to have been placed there by the Aztecs, as a memorial of their sorrow at the death of Montezuma, to whom, on account of his misfortunes, they gave the name of "el Indio triste." This was afterwards placed at the corner of the new building erected there by the Spaniards, and gave its name to the street. It is a melancholy looking statue, whomsoever it may represent, of an Indian in a sitting posture, with a most dejected and forlorn air and countenance. The material is basaltic stone.

11th.—C—-n has just returned from seeing the general archives, which are all in confusion and going to ruin. Don Ygnacio Cuevas, who has the charge of them, has written various works—the History of the Viceroys-the Californias, etc.—which were robbed or destroyed in the last pronunciamiento. He related the story of Revillagigedo and the jewels, only differing from my friend's narrative in that he says it was not a jewel-case, but a diamond bracelet. He assured C—-n that Mexico in Indian means "below this," alluding to the population who, according to tradition, are buried beneath the Pedregal.

18th.—News has arrived that General Paredes pronounced in Guadalajara on the eighth of the month! Strange rumours are afloat, and it is generally supposed that Santa Anna is or will be the prime mover of the great changes that are predicted. By many, however, it is talked of as very trifling, as a mere movement that will soon be put down. The plan which Paredes has published is essentially military, but announces a congress, which renders it very popular in the departments. It has been adopted by the departments of Zacatecas, Durango, and Guanajvato. Meanwhile, everything continues here as usual. We have been several times at the opera; the paseos are very crowded, and we had a musical soiree the other evening, which was very gay, but from the signs of the times, will probably be our last in Mexico.

28th.—This morning C—-n took his farewell audience of the president, and the new Minister was received.

3Oth.—These few last days have chiefly been spent in paying visits of ceremony with the Senora ——-. Nevertheless we spent an hour last evening in the beautiful cemetery a little way out of the city, which is rather a favourite haunt of ours, and is known as the "Panteon de Santa Maria." It has a beautiful chapel attached to it, where the daily mass is said for the dead, and a large garden filled with flowers. Young trees of different kinds have been planted there, and the sight of the tombs themselves, in their long and melancholy array of black coffins, with gold-lettered inscriptions, even while it inspires the saddest ideas, has something soothing in its effect. They are kept in perfect order, and the inscriptions, though not always eloquent, are almost always full of feeling, and sometimes extremely touching. There is one near the entrance, which is pathetic in its native language, and though it loses much in the translation, I shall transcribe it:

"Here lie the beloved remains of Carmen and Jose Pimentel y Heras. The first died the 11th of June, 1838, aged one year and eleven months; the second on the 5th of September of 1839, in the sixteenth month of his existence; and to their dear memory maternal love dedicates the following:—

"EPITAPH.

"Babes of my love! my Carmen and Jose! Sons of your cherished father, Pimentel. Why have you left your mother's side? for whom? What motives have ye had to leave me thus? But hark! I hear your voice—and breathlessly I listen. I hear ye say—'To go to heaven! Mother! we have left thee to see our God!' Beloved shades! if this indeed be so, Then let these bitter tears be turned to joy. It is not meet that I should mourn for ye, Since me ye have exchanged for my God. To Him give thanks! and in your holy songs, Pray that your parents' fate may be like yours."



LETTER THE FORTY-FOURTH

Agitation—Storm—Revolution—Manifesto—Resembling a Game of Chess—Position of the Pieces—Appearance of the City—Firing—State of Parties—Comparisons—"Comicios"—The People—Congress—Santa Anna—Amnesty offered—Roaring of Cannon—Proclamation—Time to look at home—The Will of the Nation—Different Feelings—Judge's House destroyed—The Mint in Requisition—Preparations—Cannonading—"Los Enanos."

31st.

This afternoon the clouds, gathered together in gloomy masses, announced a thunderstorm, and at the same time a certain degree of agitation apparently pervading the city was suddenly observable from our balconies. Shops were shutting up; people hurrying in all directions, heads at all the windows, and men looking out from the azoteas; but as these symptoms were immediately followed by a tremendous storm of thunder and lightning and splashing rain, we trusted that the cause had been very simple. But these elements of nature are wielded by the Hand that called them forth, and can stay them at His will, and the sun breaking forth smilingly and scattering the clouds, made us feel that the storm had but refreshed the parched earth and cleared the sultry atmosphere. Not so with the storm which has been brooding in the hearts of a handful of ambitious men, and which has burst forth at last, its bolts directed by no wise or merciful power, and by the hands of selfish and designing and short-sighted mortals.

The storm, though short, had not pased away, when news was brought us of a new revolution in Mexico! General Valencia, he who pronounced (but two short months ago!) the high-flown and flattering speech to the president, on receiving the sword of honour, has now pronounced in a very different and much clearer manner. Listen to him now:—

"Soldiers! The despotism of the Mexican government, the innumerable evils which the nation suffers, the unceasing remonstrances which have been made against these evils, and which have met with no attention, have forced us to take a step this evening, which is not one of rebellion, but is the energetic expression of our resolution to sacrifice everything to the common good and interest. The cause which we defend is that of all Mexicans; of the rich as of the poor; of the soldier as of the civilian. We want a country, a government, the felicity of our homes, and respect from without; and we shall obtain all; let us not doubt it. The nation will be moved by our example. The arms which our country has given us for her defence, we shall know how to employ in restoring her honour—an honour which the government has stained by not acknowledging the total absence of morality and energy in the actual authorities. The army which made her independent shall also render her powerful and free. The illustrious General Santa Anna to-day marches to Puebla, at the head of our heroic companions at Vera Cruz, while upon Queretaro, already united to the valiant General Paredes, the brave General Cortazar now begins his operations.

"In a few days we shall see the other forces of the republic in motion, all co-operating to the same end. The triumph is secure, my friends, and the cause which we proclaim is so noble, that conquerors, we shall be covered with glory; and, happen what may, we shall be honoured by our fellow-citizens."

In this manifesto, which is mere declamation, there is no plan. It appears that no one particularly counted upon General Valencia, and that, whether fearing to be left out in the events which he saw approaching, or apprehensive of being arrested by the government, who suspected him, he has thought it wisest to strike a blow on his own account. Pacheco, who commanded the citadel, together with Generals Lombardini and Sales, who had been ordered out to march with their respective regiments against the pronunciados, are now in the citadel, and in a state of revolt. The two last had but just received money for the payment of their troops on the preceding day.

8 o'clock.—Nothing further, but that the president has sallied forth on horseback from San Agustin; and was received with repeated vivas by the people collected in the square.

1st September.—This revolution is like a game at chess, in which kings, castles, knights, and bishops, are making different moves, while the pawns are looking on or taking no part whatever.

To understand the state of the board, it is necessary to explain the position of the four principal pieces—Santa Anna, Bustamante, Paredes, and Valencia. The first move was made by Paredes, who published his plan, and pronounced on the eighth of August at Guadalajara. About the same time, Don F—— M——, a Spanish broker, who had gone to Manga de Clavo, was sent to Guadalajara, and had a conference with Paredes, the result of which was, that the plan of that general was withdrawn, and it was supposed that he and Santa Anna had formed a combination. Shortly after, the Censor of Vera Cruz, a newspaper entirely devoted to Santa Anna, pronounced in favour of the plan of Paredes, and Santa Anna, with a few miserable troops, and a handful of cavalry, arrived at Perote. Here he remains for the present, kept in check by the (government) General Torrejon. Meanwhile Paredes, with about six hundred men, left Guadalajara and marched upon Guanajuato; and there a blow was given to the government party by the defection of General Cortazar, who thought fit thus to show his grateful sense of having just received the rank of general of brigade with the insignia of this new grade, which the president put on with his own hands. Another check to the president. Once begun, defection spread rapidly, and Paredes and Cortazar having advanced upon Queretaro, found that General Juvera, with his garrison, had already pronounced there, at the moment that they were expected in Mexico to assist the government against Valencia. Paredes, Cortazar, and Juvera are now united, and their forces amount to two thousand two hundred men.

Meanwhile General Valencia, pressed to declare his plan, has replied that he awaits the announcement of the intentions of Generals Paredes and Santa Anna; and, for his own part, only desires the dismissal of General Bustamante.

This, then, is the position of the three principal pronounced chiefs, on this second day of September of the year of our Lord 1841. Santa Anna in Perote, hesitating whether to advance or retreat, and, in fact, prevented from doing either by the vicinity of General Torrejon. Paredes in Queretaro, with the other revolted generals. Valencia in the citadel of Mexico with his pronunciados; while Bustamante, with Generals Almonte and Canalizo, the mark against which all these hostile operations are directed, is determined, it is said, to fight to the last.

Mexico looks as if it had got a general holiday. Shops shut up, and all business is at a stand. The people, with the utmost apathy, are collected in groups, talking quietly; the officers are galloping about; generals, in a somewhat party-coloured dress, with large gray hats, striped pantaloons, old coats, and generals' belts, fine horses, and crimson-coloured velvet saddles. The shopkeepers in the square have been removing their goods and money. An occasional shot is heard, and sometimes a volley, succeeded by a dead silence. The archbishop shows his reverend face now and then upon the opposite balcony of his palace, looks out a little while, and then retires. The chief effect, so far, is universal idleness in man and beast,—the soldiers and their quadrupeds excepted.

The position of the president, however, is not so bad as at first sight it might appear, or as it will be, if his enemies are permitted to reunite. He has upwards of two thousand men, twelve pieces of ordnance, and, though his infantry are few, and he has little artillery, he has good cavalry. Valencia has twelve hundred men, twenty-six pieces of ordnance, with good infantry, and almost all the artillery. The rebels have possessed themselves of the Acordada, and given liberty to those who were imprisoned for political opinions—a good loophole for the escape of criminals.

Those who understand these matters say that the principal object of the government should be to reduce the rebels to the citadel only, and to occupy all the important points in its neighbourhood, San Diego, San Hipolito, San Fernando, etc.; but as yet this has not been done, and the pronunciados are gradually extending, and taking possession of these points....

3rd.—They are now keeping up a pretty brisk fire between San Agustin and the citadel. This morning the streets were covered with coaches, filled with families leaving the city.

4th.—Things are becoming more complicated. The rebels now occupy San Jose, Salto de Agua, the college of Vizcaynas (from which all the poor girls and their teachers have fled), Regina, San Juan de la Penitencia, San Diego, and San Fernando—a long line of important points. The president's line begins at San Francisco, continuing by La Concepcion; but, without a map of the city, you will not understand the position of the two parties. However, every turret and belfry is covered with soldiers, and the streets are blocked up with troops and trenches. From behind these turrets and trenches they fire at each other, scarcely a soldier falling, but numbers of peaceful citizens; shells and bombs falling through the roofs of the houses, and all this for "the public good."

The war of July had at least a shadow of pretext; it was a war of party, and those who wished to re-establish federalism may have acted with good faith. Now there is neither principle, nor pretext, nor plan, nor the shadow of reason or legality. Disloyalty, hypocrisy, and the most sordid calculation, are all the motives that can be discovered; and those who then affected an ardent desire for the welfare of their country have now thrown aside their masks, and appear in their true colours; and the great mass of the people, who, thus passive and oppressed, allow their quiet homes to be invaded, are kept in awe neither by the force of arms, nor by the depth of the views of the conspirators, but by a handful of soldiers, who are themselves scarcely aware of their own wishes or intentions, but that they desire power and distinction at any price.

It is said that the federalists are very much elated, hoping for the eventual triumph of their party, particularly in consequence of a proclamation by Valencia, which appeared two days ago, and is called "the plan of the Comicios," said to be written by General Tomel, who has gone over to the citadel, and who, having a great deal of classical learning, talks in it of the Roman Committees (the Comicios). Since then the revolution has taken the name of liberal, and is supported by men of name, the Pedrazas, Belderas, Riva Palacio, and others, which is of great importance to Valencia, and has given force and consistency to his party. Besides this, the pronunciados have the advantage of a free field from the citadel out to Tacubaya, where it is said that certain rich bankers, who are on their side, are constantly supplying the citadel with cartloads of copper, which they send in from thence....

Meanwhile, we pass our time very quietly. In the morning we generally have visitors very early, discussing the probabilities, and giving us the last reports. Sometimes we venture out when there is no firing, which is much less constant and alarming than it was last year. So far we continue to have visitors in the evening, and Senor B—— and I have been playing duets on the harp and piano, even though Mexico is declared "in a state of siege." The ——- Minister, who was here this morning, does, however, strongly recommend us to change our quarters, and to remove to Tacubaya; which will be so troublesome, that we are inclined to delay it until it becomes absolutely necessary....

5th.—We went upon the azotea this afternoon, to have a good view of the city. There were people on almost all the balconies, as on a fete-day. A picturesque group of friars of the order of La Merced, in their white robes, had mounted up on the belfry of their church, and were looking out anxiously. The palace roof next our own had soldiers on it. Everything at that moment was still and tranquil; but the conduct of the people is our constant source of surprise. Left entirely uncurbed, no one to direct them, thousands out of employment, many without bread, they meddle with nothing, do not complain, and scarcely seem to feel any interest in the result. How easily might such a people be directed for their good! It is said that all their apathetic sympathies are in favour of Bustamante.

Some say that Santa Anna will arrive to-day—some that the whole affair will be settled by treaty; but neither reports nor bulletins can be depended on, as scarcely any one speaks according to his true feelings or belief, but according to his political party....

It appears that the conduct of congress in this emergency has given little satisfaction. They affect to give a declaration of the national will, and are as ambiguous as the Delphic Oracle; and it is said that their half- measures, and determination not to see that public opinion is against them, and that a thorough change can alone undermine this military revolution, will contribute more than anything to its eventual triumph....

The president has made use of the extraordinary powers which have been granted him by the Poder Conservador (conservative power, a singular and intermediate authority introduced into the Mexican constitution), to abolish the ten per cent, on consumption, and to modify the personal contribution, reducing it to the richer classes alone. This concession has apparently produced no effect. It is said that the government troops continue to desert, convinced that a revolution in which Santa Anna takes part must triumph. Four new generals have been made by the president....

6th.—We went out to Tacubaya, and found it impossible to procure a room there, far less a house. This is also the case at Guadalupe, San Joaquin, in fact in every village near Mexico. We are in no particular danger, unless they were to bombard the palace. There was a slight shock of an earthquake yesterday.

10th.—On the 7th, the president offered an amnesty to the pronunciados. Whatever might have been the result, the evening concluded with a terrible thunderstorm, mingled with the roaring of cannon, which had a most lugubrious effect. Many people were killed on the street. We had gone out in the morning, but met the Ex-Minister H—-a, who strongly advised us to return home directly, as balls were falling, and accidents happening all round.

Soon after a proclamation was issued by General Valencia, purporting that if the president did not yield, he would bombard the palace; and that if the powder which is kept there were to blow up, it would ruin half the city. This induced us to look at home, for if the palace is bombarded, the Casa de Moneda cannot escape, and if the palace is blown up, the Casa de Moneda will most certainly keep it company. When the proclamation came out in the morning, various were the opinions expressed in consequence. Some believed it to be a mere threat, and others that it would take place at eleven at night. An old supernumerary soldier who lives here (one of those who was disabled by the last revolution) assured us that we had better leave the house, and as we refused, on the plea of having no safer house to go to, he walked off to the azotea, telling us he would let us know when the first bomb fell on the palace, and that then we must go perforce. In the evening we went downstairs to the large vaulted rooms where they are making cannon balls, and where the vaults are so thick and solid, that it was thought we should be in safety, even if General Valencia really kept his word. We sat up that night till twelve o'clock, listening anxiously, but nothing happened; and now, in consequence of a deputation which has been sent to the citadel by certain foreigners of distinction (though unknown to the government), we are no longer afraid of any sudden assault of this kind, as General Valencia has promised, in consideration of their representations, not to proceed to these last extremities, unless driven to them for his own defence.

In listening to the different opinions which are current, it would seem that Bustamante, Santa Anna, and Valencia are all equally unpopular; and that the true will of the nation, which congress was afraid to express, was first for the immediate convocation of a Constitutional Congress; and secondly, that they should not be governed by Santa Anna, yet that Bustamante should renounce, and a provisional president should be named....

Santa Anna writes, complaining that Bustamante, by assuming extraordinary powers, commanding the army and yet continuing president, is infringing the constitution. But as he is coming on to destroy it entirely, this is being rather particular. It is reported that the typhus fever is in the citadel, but there are many floating rumours which are not to be depended upon.... There is evidently a great deal of consternation beginning to be felt amongst the lower classes. Foreigners generally are inclined towards Santa Anna, Mexicans to Bustamante; but all feel the present evils. The leperos seem to swarm in greater numbers than ever, and last evening two small shops were broken into and robbed. In vain the president publishes manifestos that the shops may be opened; they remain carefully shut, all commerce paralyzed, and every one, who has the means to do so, leaving the city.

We hear that the shells from the citadel have destroyed part of the beautiful house belonging to Judge Pena y Penas, in front of the Alameda.

11th.—We have just received private information from the government, that they will shortly require this house for arms and ammunition and troops; coupled with still more private advice to provide for our safety by leaving it. We shall therefore gladly accept the kind invitation of the F—-a family, to remove to their hacienda of San Xavier, about three leagues from this. We had at first declined this invitation, owing to its distance from the city—inconvenient for us, who are only waiting for the first opportunity to leave it; but besides that after the most diligent search in all the surrounding villages, we cannot find a single unoccupied room, we are very glad to spend our remaining days in Mexico with so distinguished a family. I shall therefore write little more at present on the subject of the revolution, which now that we have lived some time in Mexico, and have formed friendships there, fills us with feelings entirely different from those which the last produced; with personal sentiments of regret, private fears, and hopes for the future, and presentiments of evil which owe more than half their sadness to individual feelings.

12th.—We are now in the midst of all the confusion occasioned by another removal; surrounded by trunks and boxes and cargadores, and at the same time by our friends (all those who have not taken flight yet) taking leave of us....

A great cannonading took place last night, but without any important result. The soldiers, in the day-time amuse themselves by insulting each other from the roofs of the houses and convents. Yesterday, one of the president's party singled out a soldier in the citadel, shot him, and then began to dance the Enanos, and in the midst of a step, he was shot, and rolled over, dead....

We shall write again from San Xavier.



LETTER THE FORTY-FIFTH

Leave Mexico-Travelling Equipage—San Xavier—Fine Hacienda—Millionaires—Well-educated Ladies—Garden, etc.—Tlanapantla—Indian Hut—Mrs. Ward—Dona Margarita—The Pronunciamiento—False Step—Santa Anna in Puebla—Neutrality—General Paredes—President in Tlanapantla—Tired Troops—Their March—Their Return—Curate's House—Murder—General Paredes in the Lecheria—President in Tlanapantla—A Meeting—Return of the President and his Troops—General Paredes and his Men—Santa Anna in Tacubaya—A Junction—President in Mexico—Allied Sovereigns—Plan—Articles—President declares for Federalism—Resigns—Results—Hostilities—Capitulation—Triumphal Entry—Te Deum—New Ministry.

SAN XAVIER, 16th September.

After a morning of fatigue, confusion, bustle, leave-taking, etc., etc., a coach with four mules, procured with the utmost difficulty, drove up to the door; the coach old and crazy, the mules and harness quite consistent, and the postilions so tipsy that they could hardly keep their seats. But we had no time to be particular, and climbed in amidst bows and hand-shakings, and prophecies of breaking down and of being robbed by a band of forcats headed by a Spaniard, who are said to be scouring the country; who are said to be, for just now, seeing is believing, and few reports are worth attending to. However, we took two servants on horseback, by way of escort, and rattled off, the coach creaking ominously, the postilions swinging from side to side, and our worthy housekeeper, whom we had carried off from the smoking city, screaming out her last orders to the galopina, concerning a certain green parrot which she had left in the charge of that tender-hearted damsel, who, with her reboso at her eyes, surrounded by directors of the mint, secretaries of legation, soldiers and porters, had enough to do to take charge of herself. The city looked very sad, as we drove through the streets; with closed shops, and barred windows, and cannon planted, and soldiers riding about. At every village we passed, the drivers called for brandy, tossed off a glassful, which appeared to act like a composing draught, as they gradually recovered their equilibrium. We were glad to arrive at San Xavier, where we received a most cordial welcome, and to be removed, at least for a while, from sights and sounds of destruction. A great part of the road to Tlanapantla, the village near which San Xavier is situated, leads through traces of the ruins of the ancient Tenochtitlan.

This part of the country is extremely pretty, being a corn and not a maguey district. Instead of the monotonous and stiff maguey, whose head never bends to the blast, we are surrounded by fields of waving corn. There are also plenty of trees; poplar, ash, and elm; and one flourishing specimen of the latter species, which we see from the windows in front of the house, was brought here by Mr. Poinsett. The hacienda, which is about three leagues from Mexico, is a large irregular building in rather a low situation, surrounded by dark blue hills. It belongs to the Senoras de F—-a, of the family of the Marquis de A—-o; millionaires—being rich in haciendas and silver-mines; very religious, very charitable, and what is less common here, extremely learned; understanding French, English, German, and even Latin. Their education they owe to the care of their father, one of the most distinguished men in Mexico, who was banished twice, once for liberal opinions, and the second time for supporting the "Plan of Iguala," in fact for not being liberal enough. In these emigrations, his family accompanied him, travelled over a great part of Europe, and profited by their opportunities. They returned here when the independence was accomplished, hoping for peace, but in vain. Constant alarms, and perpetual revolutions have succeeded one another ever since that period.

The hacienda has the usual quantum of furniture belonging to these country houses; and it is certainly no longer a matter of surprise to us, that rich proprietors take little interest in embellishing them. A house which will in all probability be converted once a year into a barrack, is decidedly better in a state of nature, than encumbered with elegant furniture. This house has been entirely destroyed in that way more than once, and the last time that it was occupied by troops, was left like an Augean stable. We have here the luxury of books. My room opens into a beautiful chapel, covered with paintings representing saints and virgins holding lilies, where mass is said occasionally, though the family generally attend mass in the village church of Tlanapantla. Before the house is a small flower-garden filled with roses and peculiarly fine dahlias, pomegranate-trees and violets, which, though single, have a delicious fragrance. This stretches out into an immense vegetable-garden and orchard, terminating in a shrubbery, through which walks are cut, impervious to the sun at noon-day. There is also a large reservoir of water, and the garden, which covers a great space of ground, is kept in good order. There are beautiful walks in the neighbourhood, leading to Indian villages, old churches, and farms; and all the lanes are bordered with fruit-trees.

Tlanapantla, which means in Indian, between lands, its church having been built by the Indians of two districts, is a small village, with an old church, ruined remains of a convent, where the curate now lives, a few shops, and a square where the Indians hold market (tangis they call it) on Fridays. All along the lanes are small Indian huts, with their usual mud floor, small altar, earthen vessels, and collection of daubs on the walls; especially of the Virgin of Guadalupe; with a few blest palm-leaves in the corner; occupied, when the men are at work, by the Indian woman herself, her sturdy, scantily-clothed progeny, and plenty of yelping dogs. Mrs. Ward's sketch of the interior of an Indian hut is perfect, as all her Mexican sketches are. When the women are also out at their work, they are frequently tenanted by the little children alone. Taking refuge from a shower of rain yesterday, in one of these mud huts, we found no one there but a little bronze-coloured child, about three years old, sleeping all alone on the floor, with the door wide open; and though we talked loud, and walked about in the cottage, the little thing never wakened. A second shower drove us for shelter to a farmhouse, where we entered a sort of oratorio attached to the house; a room which is not consecrated, but has an altar, crucifix, holy pictures, etc. The floor was strewed with flowers, and in one corner was an old stringless violoncello, that might have formed a pendant to the harp of Tara.

However, the most remarkable object of the rancho is its proprietress, a tall, noble-looking Indian, Dona Margarita by name, a mountaineer by birth, and now a rich widow, possessing lands and flocks, though living in apparent poverty. The bulk of her fortune she employs in educating poor orphans. Every poor child who has no parents, finds in her a mother and protectress; the more wretched, or sick, or deformed, the more certain of an asylum with her. She takes them into her house, brings them up as her own children, has them bred to some useful employment, and when they are old enough, married. If it is a boy, she chooses him a wife from amongst the girls of the mountains, where she was born, who she says are "less corrupted" than the girls of the village. She has generally from twelve to twenty on her hands, always filling up with new orphans the vacancies caused in her small colony by death or marriage. There is nothing picturesque about these orphans, for, as I said before, the most deformed and helpless, and maimed and sick, are the peculiar objects of Dona Margarita's care; nevertheless, we saw various healthy, happy-looking girls, busied in various ways, washing and ironing, and sewing, whose very eyes gleamed when we mentioned her name, and who spoke of her with a respect and affection that it was pleasant to witness. Truly, this woman is entitled to happy dreams and soft slumbers! The remainder of her fortune she employs in the festivals and ceremonies of the church; in fireworks, in ornaments for the altars, etc.

9th.—Every day a messenger arrives from Mexico, bringing news of the pronunciamiento, which are eagerly waited for, and read with intense interest. It is probable, now, that affairs will soon come to a crisis. A step has been taken by the president, which is considered very imprudent by those who are looking on in this great game. General Torrejon, who with nine hundred good soldiers kept Santa Anna in awe at Perote, has been sent for to Mexico, Bustamante wishing to reunite his forces. These troops, together with those of Codallos (the Governor of Puebla) brings up his army to three thousand five hundred, or some say to four thousand men, all effective, and of which nine hundred are good cavalry. Bustamante being now at the head of the army, Hechavarria exercises the executive power, according to the constitution, in his capacity of president of the Council of State, (Consejo de Estado); the Mexicans having no vice-president.

Santa Anna, who had until now remained in Perote with his unorganized troops, no officers on whom he could depend, and a handful of miserable cavalry, has moved forwards to Puebla. Arrived there, his numbers were increased by one hundred men of the Tobacco customs, (brought him by Senor ——-, who, with a rich Spanish banker went out to meet him,) forty horsemen seduced from the escort of Codallos, and a company of watchmen! As yet, no movement has taken place or seems likely to take place in his favour in Puebla. Senor Haro is named governor of that city in the place of Codallos, who was sent for to join the president in Mexico; and Puebla, which used to be the great theatre of revolutions, has remained on this occasion in the most perfect neutrality, neither declaring for one party nor the other; probably the wisest course to pursue at this juncture. Every one is of opinion that five hundred troops sent by Bustamante, would instantly put this mongrel army of Santa Anna's to flight; for though he has collected about a thousand men, he has not three hundred good soldiers....

On the other hand, General Paredes is marching in this direction with General Cortazar, his orders from Santa Anna no doubt being to keep the president in play, and to divert his attention by treaties or preliminaries of treaties, whilst he continues to march with caution towards the capital. The great event to be dreaded by the government is a junction of the pronunciado forces. As long as they are separate, it is in no immediate danger; but like the bundle of rods, what can easily be broken separately, will assume strength when joined together. I make no further excuse for talking about politics. We talk and think of little else.

21st.—Yesterday (Sunday) we were startled by the intelligence, that Generals Canalizo and Noriega had arrived at the village in the middle of the night, with a large troop, and that General Bustamante himself had made his appearance there at five in the morning: so that the peaceful little Tlanapantla had suddenly assumed a warlike appearance. As it lies on the direct road to Guanajuato there could be no doubt that they were marching to meet Paredes. C—-n immediately walked down to the village to pay his respects to the president, who was lodged at the curate's, and meanwhile General Noriega came to the hacienda to see the ladies. C—-n found the president very much fatigued, having passed fourteen days and nights under arms, and in constant anxiety; General Orbegoso was with him.

After breakfast we went down to the village to see the troops, who were resting there for a few hours. The cavalry occupied the square, the horses standing, and the men stretched asleep on the ground, each soldier beside his horse. The infantry occupied the churchyard. Dreadfully fatigued, they were lying some on the grass, and others with their heads pillowed on the old tombstones, resting as well as they could with their armour on. Before they started, the curate said mass to them in the square. There was a good deal of difficulty in procuring the most common food for so many hungry men. Tortillas had been baked in haste, and all the hens in the village were put in requisition to obtain eggs for the president and his officers. We sat down in a porch to see them set off; a melancholy sight enough, in spite of drums beating and trumpets sounding. An old soldier, who came up to water his own and his master's horse, began to talk to us of what was going on, and seemed anything but enthusiastic at the prospects of himself and his comrades, assuring us that the army of General Paredes was double their number. He was covered with wounds received in the war against Texas, and expressed his firm conviction that we should see the Comanche Indians on the streets of Mexico one of these days; at which savage tribe he appeared to have a most devout horror; describing to a gaping audience the manner in which he had seen a party of them devour three of their prisoners....

About four o'clock the signal for departure was sounded, and they went off amidst the cheers of the people.

22nd.—Great curiosity was excited yesterday afternoon, when news was brought us that Bustamante, with his generals and troops, had returned, and had passed through the village, on their way back to Mexico! Some say that this retrograde march is in consequence of a movement made in Mexico by General Valencia—others that it has been caused by a message received from General Paredes. We paid a visit in the evening to the old curate, who was pretty much in the dark, morally and figuratively, in a very large hall, where were assembled a number of females, and one tallow candle. Of course all were talking politics, and especially discoursing of the visit of the president the preceding night, and of his departure in the morning, and of his return in the afternoon, and of the difficulty of procuring tortillas for the men, and eggs for the officers.

23rd.—We have received news this morning of the murder of our porter, the Spaniard whom we had brought from Havana. He had left us, and was employed as porter in a fabrica (manufactory), where the wife and family of the proprietor resided. Eight of General Valencia's soldiers sallied forth from the citadel to rob this factory, and poor Jose, the most faithful and honest of servants, having valiantly defended the door, was cruelly murdered. They afterwards entered the building, robbed, and committed dreadful outrages. They are selling printed papers through the streets to-day, giving an account of it. The men are taken up, and it is said will be shot by orders of the general; but we doubt this, even though a message has arrived, requiring the attendance of the padre who confesses criminals; a Franciscan monk, who, with various of his brethren, are living here for safety at present.

The situation of Mexico is melancholy.

24th.—News have arrived that General Paredes has arrived at the Lecheria, an hacienda belonging to this family, about three leagues from San Xavier: and that from thence he sent one of the servants of the farm to Mexico, inviting the president to a personal conference. The family take this news of their hacienda's being turned into military quarters very philosophically; the only precaution on these occasions being to conceal the best horses, as the pronunciados help themselves, without ceremony, to these useful quadrupeds, wherever they are to be found.

26th.—This morning, General Bustamante and his troops arrived at Tlanapantla, the president in a coach. Having met C—-n on the road, he stopped for a few moments and informed him that he was on his way to meet General Paredes at the Lecheria, where he hoped to come to a composition with him. We listened all day with anxiety, but hearing no firing, concluded that some arrangement had in fact been made. In the evening we walked out on the high-road, and met the president, the governor, and the troops all returning. What securities Bustamante can have received, no one can imagine, but it is certain that they have met without striking a blow. It was nearly dusk as they passed, and the president bowed cheerfully, while some of the officers rode up, and assured us that all was settled.

Sunday, 27th.—Cavalry, infantry, carriages, cannon, etc., are all passing through the village. These are the pronunciados, with General Paredes, following to Mexico. Feminine curiosity induces me to stop here, and to join the party who are going down to the village to see them pass....

We have just returned after a sunny walk, and an inspection of the pronunciados—they are too near Mexico now for me to venture to call them the rebels. The infantry, it must be confessed, was in a very ragged and rather drunken condition—the cavalry better, having borrowed fresh horses as they went along. Though certainly not point-device in their accoutrements, their good horses, high saddles, bronze faces, and picturesque attire, had a fine effect as they passed along under the burning sun. The sick followed on asses, and amongst them various masculine women, with sarapes or mangas and large straw hats, tied down with coloured handkerchiefs, mounted on mules or horses. The sumpter mules followed, carrying provisions, camp-beds, etc.; and various Indian women trotted on foot in the rear, carrying their husbands' boots and clothes. There was certainly no beauty amongst these feminine followers of the camp, especially amongst the mounted Amazons, who looked like very ugly men in a semi-female disguise. The whole party are on their way to Tacubaya, to join Santa Anna! The game is nearly up now. Check from two knights and a castle—from Santa Anna and Paredes in Tacubaya, and from Valencia in the citadel. People are flying in all directions, some from Mexico, and others from Guadalupe and Tacubaya....

It appears that Santa Anna was marching from Puebla, feeling his way towards the capital in fear and trembling. At Rio Frio a sentinel's gun having accidentally gone off, the whole army were thrown into the most ludicrous consternation and confusion. Near Oyotla the general's brow cleared up, for here he was met by commissioners from the government, Generals Orbegoso and Guyame. In a moment the quick apprehension of Santa Anna saw that the day was his own. He gave orders to continue the march with all speed to Tacubaya, affecting to listen to the proposals of the commissioners, amusing them without compromising himself, and offering to treat with them at Mexicalsingo. They returned without having received any decided answer, and without, on their part, having given any assurance that his march should not be stopped; yet he has been permitted to arrive unmolested at Tacubaya, where Paredes has also arrived, and where he has been joined by General Valencia; so that the three pronunciado generals are now united there to dispose of the fate of the republic....

The same day General Almonte had an interview with Santa Anna, who said with a smile, when he left him, "Es buen muchacho (he is a good lad)—he may be of service to us yet." ...

The three allied sovereigns are now in the archbishop's palace at Tacubaya, from whence they are to dictate to the president and the nation. But they are, in fact, chiefly occupied with their respective engagements and respective rights. Paredes wishes to fulfil his engagements with the departments of Guanjuato, Jalisco, Zacatecas, Aguas Calientes, Queretaro, etc. In his plan he promised them religious toleration, permission for foreigners to hold property, and so on—the last, in fact, being his favourite project. Valencia, on his side, has his engagements to fulfil with the federalists, and has proposed Senor Pedraza as an integral part of the regeneration—one whose name will give confidence now and ever to his party. General Santa Anna has engagements with himself. He has determined to command them all, and allows them to fight amongst themselves, provided he governs. Paredes is, in fact, furious with Valencia, accusing him of having interfered when not wanted, and of having ruined his plan, by mingling it with a revolution, with which it had no concern. He does not reflect that Valencia was the person who gave the mortal wound to the government. Had he not revolted, Santa Anna would not have left Perote, nor Paredes himself passed on unmolested....

The conservative body has been invited to go to Tacubaya, but has refused. The majority desire the election of Paredes, or of any one who is not Santa Anna or Valencia; but Paredes himself, while drawing no very flattering portrait of Santa Anna, declares that he is the only man in the republic fit for the presidency—the only man who can make himself obeyed—in short, the only one capable of taking those energetic measures which the safety of the republic requires. He flatters himself that he, at the head of his division, will always keep Santa Anna in check; as if Cortazar, who deserted Bustamante in a moment of difficulty, could be depended on!...

Meanwhile they are fortifying Mexico; and some suppose that Bustamante and his generals have taken the rash determination of permitting all their enemies to unite, in order to destroy them at one blow....

29th.—There being at present an armistice between the contending parties, a document was published yesterday, fruits of the discussion of the allied powers at Tacubaya. It is called "las bases de Tacubaya," and being published in Mexico by General Almonte, many expected and hoped that a new pronunciamiento would be the consequence; but it has been quietly received, and the federalists welcome it as containing the foundations of federalism and popularity. There are thirteen articles, which are as follow:

By the first—It is the will of the nation that the supreme powers established by the constitution of '36 have ceased, excepting the judicial, which will be limited in its functions to matters purely judicial, conformably to the existing laws.

By the second—A junta is to be named, composed of two deputies from each department, elected by his Excellency the Commander-in-Chief of the Mexican army, Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, in order that they may be entirely free to point out the person who is to hold the executive power provisionally.

By the third—This person is immediately to assume the executive power, taking an oath in the presence of the junta to set for the welfare of the nation.

By the fourth—The provisional executive power shall in two months convoke a new congress, which, with ample powers, shall engage to reconstitute the nation, as appears most suitable to them.

By the fifth—This congress extraordinary shall reunite in six months after it is convened, and shall solely occupy itself in forming the constitution.

By the sixth—The provincial executive shall answer for its acts before the first constitutional congress.

By the seventh—The provincial executive shall have all the powers necessary for the organization of all the branches of the public administration.

By the eighth—Four Ministers shall be named, of foreign and home relations, of public instruction and industry, of treasury, and of war and marine.

By the ninth—Each department is to have two trustworthy individuals to form a council, which shall give judgment in all matters on which they may be consulted by the executive.

By the tenth—Till this council is named, the junta will fulfil its functions.

By the eleventh—Till the republic is organized, the authorities in the departments which have not opposed, and will not oppose the national will, shall continue.

By the twelfth—The general-in-chief and all the other generals promise to forget all the political conduct of military men or citizens during the present crisis.

By the thirteenth—When three days have passed after the expiration of the present truce, if the general-in-chief of the government does not adopt these bases, their accomplishment will be proceeded with; and they declare, in the name of the nation, that this general, and all the troops who follow him, and all the so-called authorities which counteract this national will, shall be held responsible for all the Mexican blood that may be uselessly shed, and which shall be upon their heads.

3Oth.—To the astonishment of all parties, Bustamante and his generals pronounced yesterday morning for the federal system, and this morning Bustamante has resigned the presidency. His motives seem not to be understood, unless a circular, published by General Almonte, can throw any light upon them.

"Without making any commentary," he says, speaking of the document of Tacubaya, "upon this impudent document, which proposes to the Mexican nation a military government, and the most ominous of dictatorships in favour of the false defender of public liberty, of the most ferocious enemy of every government that has existed in the country, I hasten to send it to you, that you may have it published in this state, where surely it will excite the same indignation as in an immense majority of the inhabitants of the capital, who, jealous of the national glory, and decided to lose everything in order to preserve it, have spontaneously proclaimed the re-establishment of the federal system, the whole garrison having followed this impulse. There is no medium between liberty and tyranny; and the government, relying on the good sense of the nation, which will not see with indifference the slavery that is preparing for it, puts itself in the hands of the states, resolved to sacrifice itself on the altars of the country, or to strengthen its liberty for ever.

"I enclose the renunciation which His Excellency Don Anastasio Bustamante makes to the presidency," etc.

3rd October.—Though a very democratic crowd collected, and federalism was proclaimed in Mexico, it appears that no confidence in the government was inspired by this last measure. Some say that had Bustamante alone declared for the federal system, and had sent some effective cavalry to protect the pronunciados of that party all through the country, he might have triumphed still. Be that as it may, General Canalizo pronounced for federalism on the second of October, but this is not followed up on the part of the Generals Bustamante and Almonte, while the vice-president, Hechavarria, has retired to his house, blaming Almonte for having published an official document without his knowledge. Everything is in a state of perfect anarchy and confusion. The leperos are going about armed, and no one remains in Mexico but those who are obliged to do so. It is said that in Tacubaya great uneasiness prevailed as to the result of this new movement, and Santa Anna offered an asylum there to the congress and conservative body, although, by the ultimatum from Tacubaya, published on the twenty-eighth, the constitution of '36 was concluded, and of course these authorities were politically dead.

I had hardly written these words when the roaring of cannon announced that hostilities have recommenced.

5th.—For the last few days, we have been listening to the cannon, and even at this distance, the noise reverberating amongst the hills is tremendous. The sound is horrible! There is something appalling, yet humbling, in these manifestations of man's wrath and man's power, when he seems to usurp his Maker's attributes, and to mimic his thunder. The divine spark kindled within him, has taught him how to draw these metals from the earth's bosom; how to combine these simple materials, so as to produce with them an effect as terrible as the thunderbolts of heaven. His earthly passions have prompted him so to wield these instruments of destruction, as to deface God's image in his fellow-men. The power is so divine—the causes that impel him to use that power are so paltry! The intellect that creates these messengers of death is so near akin to divinity—the motives that put them in action are so poor, so degrading even to humanity!

On the third, there was a shower of bombs and shells from the citadel, of which some fell into the palace, and one in our late residence, the mint. An engagement took place in the Virga; and though Bustamante's party were partially victorious, it is said that neither has much reason to boast of the result. General Espinosa, an old insurgent, arrived at the village last night, and sent to request some horses from the hacienda, which were sent him with all convenient speed, that he might not, according to his usual plan, come and take them. In exchange for some half-dozen farm horses in good condition, he sent half a dozen lean, wretched-looking quadrupeds, the bones coming through their skin, skeletons fit for dissection.

News have just arrived to the effect that last night, at three o'clock, Bustamante suddenly left the city, drawing off all his troops from the turrets, and leaving General Orbegoso in the palace, with one hundred men. It was generally reported, that he had marched into the interior, to bring about a federal revolution; but it appears that he has arrived at Guadalupe, and there taken up his quarters. A loud cannonading has been kept up since ten o'clock, which keeps us all idle, looking out for the smoke, and counting the number of discharges.

6th.—A messenger has brought the intelligence that there had been more noise and smoke than slaughter; the cannons being planted at such distances, that it was impossible they could do much execution. Numerous bulletins are distributed; some violently in favour of Bustamante and federalism, full of abuse and dread of Santa Anna; others lauding that general to the skies, as the saviour of his country. The allied forces being in numbers double those of Bustamante, there is little doubt of the result.

7th.—A capitulation. Santa Anna is triumphant. He made his solemn entry into Mexico last evening, Generals Valencia and Canalizo being at the head of the united forces. Not a solitary viva was heard as they passed along the streets; nor afterwards, during his speech in congress. Te Deum was sung this morning in the cathedral, the archbishop in person receiving the new president. We have just returned from Mexico, where we went in search of apartments, and with great difficulty have found rooms in the hotel of the Calle Vegara; but we shall remain here a day or two longer. There is no great difference in the general appearance of the city, except that the shops are reopened, and that most of the windows are broken. Immediately after the morning ceremony, Santa Anna returned to the archbishop's palace at Tacubaya; which residence he prefers to the president's palace in Mexico. His return there, after his triumphant entry into the capital, was very much en Rio—a retinue of splendid coaches with fine horses, going at full speed; the general's carriage drawn by four beautiful white horses—(belonging to Don F—— M——; the very same that were sent to bring us into Mexico) brilliant aides-de-camp, and an immense escort of cavalry. Thus concludes the revolution of 1842, though not its effects.

The new ministry, up to this date, are Senor Gomez Pedraza for Foreign and Home Relations; Castillo, un petit avocat from Guadalajara, said to be a furious federalist and Latin scholar, for Public Instruction; General Tornel for War and Marine; and Senor Dufoo for the Treasury. Valencia proposed Paredes for the War Department; but he declined, saying, "No, no, General—I understand you very well. You want to draw me from off my division."

Those who know Bustamante best, even those who most blame him for indecision and want of energy, agree on one point; that the true motives of his conduct are to be found in his constant and earnest desire to spare human life.



LETTER THE FORTY-SIXTH

Santa Monica—Solidity—Old Paintings—Anachronism-Babies and Nurses from the Cuna—Society—Funds—Plan—Indian Nurses—Carmelite Convent— Midnight Warning—Old Villages and Churches—Indian Bath—San Mateo—The Lecheria—Fertility—Nolino Viejo—Dulness—Religious Exercises—Return to Mexico—Mexican Hotel—New Generals—Disturbances—General Bustamante— Inconvenience—Abuses in the name of Liberty—Verses—Independence celebrated.

8th.

The Revolution has lasted upwards of thirty-five days; and during that time, though I have written of little else, we have been taking many rides in the environs of this hacienda, some of which were very interesting. We are also making the most of our last few days of Mexican country life. On Thursday we went on horseback with a large party to visit the mill of Santa Monica, an immense hacienda, which tradition, I know not with what truth, supposes to have been in former days the property of Dona Marina; a gift to her from Cortes. At all events, at a later period it belonged to the Augustine monks, then to a Mexican family, who lost their fortune from neglect or extravagance. It was bought by the present proprietor for a comparatively trifling sum, and produces him an annual rent of thirty-five thousand dollars upon an average. The house is colossal, and not more than one-third of it occupied. The granaries, of solid masonry, contain fourteen thousand loads of corn—they were built about two hundred and fifty years ago. From all the neighbouring haciendas, and even from many distant estates, the corn is sent to this mill, and is here ground, deposited, and sold on account of the owner, a certain portion deducted for the proprietor of Santa Monica. It seems strange that they should have no windmills here, in a country colonized by Spain, where, according to Cervantes, they were common enough. The house is in a commanding situation, and the views of the mountains, especially from the upper windows, are very grand. In some of the old, unoccupied apartments, are some good copies of old paintings, the copies themselves of ancient date. There is the Angel announcing to Elizabeth the birth of Saint John; a Holy Family, from Murillo; the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, which is one of the best; particularly the figures in the foreground, of Lot and his family. Lot's wife stands in the distance, a graceful figure just crystallized, her head turned in the direction of the doomed city. I looked into every dark corner, in hopes of finding some old daub representing Dona Marina, but without success. There is the strangest contrast possible between these half-abandoned palaces, and their actual proprietors. We had beautiful riding-horses belonging to the hacienda, and enjoyed everything but the exceeding heat of the sun, as we galloped home about one o'clock....

As a specimen of rather a remarkable anachronism, we were told that a justice in the village of Tlanapantla, speaking the other day of General Bustamante, said, "Poor man—he is persecuted by all parties, just as Jesus Christ was by the Jansenists, the Sadducees, and the Holy Fathers of the Church!" What a curious olla podrida the poor man's brain must be!

In the midst of the revolution, we were amused by a very peaceful sight—all the nurses belonging to the Cuna, or Foundling hospital, coming from the different villages to receive their monthly wages. Amongst the many charitable institutions of Mexico, there appears to me (in spite of the many prejudices existing against such institutions) none more useful than this. These otherwise unfortunate children, the offspring of abject poverty or guilt, are left at the gate of the establishment, where they are received without any questions being asked; and from that moment, they are protected and cared for, by the best and noblest families in the country. The members of the society consist of the first persons in Mexico, male and female. The men furnish the money; the women give their time and attention. There is no fixed number of members, and amongst them are the ladies in whose house we now live. The President is the Dowager Marquesa de Vivanco. When the child has been about a month in the Cuna, it is sent, with an Indian nurse, to one of the villages near Mexico. If sick or feeble it remains in the house, under the more immediate inspection of the society. These nurses have a fiadora, a responsible person, who lives in the village, and answers for their good conduct. Each nurse is paid four dollars per month, a sufficient sum to induce any poor Indian, with a family, to add one to her stock. Each lady of the society has a certain number under her peculiar care, and gives their clothes, which are poor enough, but according to the village fashion. The child thus put out to nurse, is brought back to the Cuna when weaned, and remains under the charge of the society for life; but of the hundreds and tens of hundreds that have passed through their hands, scarcely has one been left to grow up in the Cuna. They are constantly adopted by respectable persons, who, according to their inclination or abilities, bring them up either as favoured servants, or as their own children; and the condition of a "huerfano," an orphan, as a child from the hospital is always called, is perfectly upon a level with that of the most petted child of the house. The nurses in the Cuna are paid eight dollars per month.

Upwards of a hundred nurses and babies arrived on Sunday, taking up their station on the grass, under the shade of a large ash-tree in the courtyard. The nurses are invariably bronze; the babies generally dark, though there was a sprinkling of fair English or German faces amongst them, with blue eyes and blonde hair, apparently not the growth of Mexican land. Great attention to cleanliness cannot be hoped for from this class, but the babies looked healthy and contented. Each nurse had to present a paper which had been given her for that purpose, containing her own name, the name of the child, and that of the lady under whose particular charge she was. Such as-"Maria Josifa-baby Juanita de los Santos-belonging to the Senora Dona Matilde F——, given on such a day to the charge of Maria Josefa." Constantly the nurse had lost this paper, and impossible for her to remember more than her own name; as to who gave her the baby, or when she got it, was entirely beyond her powers of calculation. However, then stept forward the fiadora Dona Tomaso, a sensible-looking village dame, grave and important as became her situation, and gave an account of the nurse and the baby, which being satisfactory, the copper was swept into the nurse's lap, and she and her baby went away contented. It was pleasant to see the kindness of the ladies to these poor women; how they praised the care that had been taken of the babies; admired the strong and healthy ones, which indeed nearly all were; took an interest in those who looked paler, or less robust; and how fond and proud the nurses were of their charges; and how little of a hired, mercenary, hospital feeling existed among them all....

A judge in the village, who comes here frequently, a pleasant and well-informed man, amused us this evening by recounting to us how he had once formed a determination to become a monk, through sudden fear. Being sent by government to Toluca, some years ago, to inquire into the private political conduct of a Yorkino, he found that his only means of remaining there unsuspected, and also of obtaining information, was to lodge in the convent of the Carmelite friars. The padres accommodated him with a cell, and assisted him very efficaciously in his researches. But the first night, being alone in his cell, the convent large and dreary, and the wind howling lugubriously over the plains, he was awakened at night by a deep sepulchral voice, apparently close to his ear, tolling forth these words:

"Hermanos, en el sepulcro acaba, Todo lo que el mundo alaba!"

"My brothers, all must finish in the tomb! Of all that men extol, this is the doom."

Exceedingly startled, he sprang up, and opened the door of his cell. A dim lamp faintly illuminated the long vaulted galleries, and the monks, like shadows, were gliding to midnight prayer. In the dreariness of the night, with the solemn words sounding in his ear like a warning knell, he came to the satisfactory conclusion that all was vanity, and to the determination that the very next day he would retire from the world, join this holy brotherhood, and bind himself to be a Carmelite friar for life. The day brought counsel, the cheerful sunbeams dispelled the gloom, even within the old convent, and his scruples of conscience melted away.

There are old villages and old churches in this neighbourhood that would delight an antiquary. In the churchyard of the village of San Andres, is the most beautiful weeping ash I ever saw. We took shelter from the sun yesterday under its gigantic shadow, and lay there as under a green vault. We saw to-day, near another solitary old church, one of the Indian oven-baths, the temescallis, built of bricks, in which there is neither alteration nor improvement since their first invention, heaven alone knows in what century.

9th.—We rode last evening to another estate belonging to this family, called San Mateo, one of the prettiest places on a small scale we have seen here. The road, or rather path, led us through fields, covered with the greatest profusion of bright yellow sunflowers and scarlet dahlias, so tall that they came up to our horses' ears. The house is built in the cottage style (the first specimen of that style we have seen here), with the piazza in front, large trees shading it, and a beautiful view from the height on which it stands. It has rather an English than a Spanish look. No one lives there but the agent and his wife—and a fierce dog.

11th.—This morning we rose at five, mounted our horses, and accompanied by Senor E——, together with the administrador and the old gardener, set off to take our last long ride from San Xavier; for this evening we return to Mexico. The morning was fine and fresh, the very morning for a gallop, and the country looked beautiful. We rode first to the Lecheria, where Generals Bustamante and Paredes had their last eventful conference, having passed on our way various old churches and villages, and another hacienda also belonging to this family, whose estates seem countless. The Lecheria is a large unoccupied house, or occupied only by the administrador and his family. It is a fine building, and its courtyard within is filled with flowers; but having neither garden nor trees near it, seems rather lonely; and must have been startled to find itself the rendezvous of contending chieftains. It is surrounded by fertile and profitable fields of corn and maize. We staid but a short time in the house, and having observed with due respect the chamber where the generals conferred together, remounted our horses and rode on. I have no doubt, by the way, that their meeting was the most amicable imaginable. I never saw a country where opponent parties bear so little real ill-will to each other. It all seems to evaporate in words. I do not believe that there is any real bad feeling subsisting at this moment, even between the two rival generals, Bustamante and Santa Anna. Santa Anna usurped the presidency, partly because he wanted it, and partly because if he had not, some one else would; but I am convinced that if they met by chance in a drawing-room, they would give each other as cordial an ambrazo (embrace), Mexican fashion, as if nothing had happened.

Our road led us through a beautiful track of country, all belonging to the Lecheria, through pathways that skirted the fields, where the plough had newly turned up the richest possible soil, and which were bordered by wild flowers and shady trees. For miles our path lay through a thick carpeting of the most beautiful wild flowers imaginable: bright scarlet dahlias, gaudy sunflowers, together with purple and lilac, and pale straw-coloured blossoms, to all which the gardener gave but the general name of mirasoles (sunflower). The purple convolvulus threw its creeping branches on the ground, or along whatever it could embrace; while all these bright flowers, some growing to a great height, seemed, as we rode by them, to be flaunting past us in their gay colours, like peasants in their holiday dresses. The ground also was enamelled with a little low inquisitive looking blossom, bright yellow, with a peeping brown eye; and the whole, besides forming the gayest assemblage of colours and groups, gave to the air a delicious fragrance.

But at last we left these fertile grounds, and began to ascend the hills, part of which afford pasture for the flocks, till, still higher up, they become perfectly arid and stony. Here the whole landscape looks bleak and dreary, excepting that the eye can rest upon the distant mountains, of a beautiful blue, like a peep of the promised land from Mount Nebo. After having rode four leagues, the latter part over this sterile ground, affording but an insecure footing for our horses, we descried, low down in a valley, an old sad-looking building, with a ruined mill and some trees. This was the object of our ride; the "molino viejo" (old mill), another hacienda belonging to these rich lady proprietors; and profitable on account of the fine pasture which some of the surrounding hills afford. Nothing could look more solitary. Magdalene might have left her desert, and ended her days there, without materially bettering her situation. The only sign of life is a stream that runs round a very productive small orchard in front of the house, while on a hill behind are a few maguey plants, and on the mirador, in front of the house, some creepers have been trained with a good deal of taste. There are bleak hills in front—hills with a scanty herbage behind it, and everywhere a stillness that makes itself felt: while, strange circumstance in this country! there is not even a church within a league and a half. There has been a chapel in the house, but the gilded paintings are falling from the walls—the altar is broken, and the floor covered with dried corn. The agent's wife, who sits here all alone, must have time to collect her scattered thoughts, and plenty of opportunity for reflection and self-examination. Certain it is, she gave us a very good breakfast, which we attacked like famished pilgrims; and shortly after took our leave.

The heat on the shadeless hills had now become intense. It is only on such occasions that one can fully appreciate the sufferings of Regulus. We returned by the carriage-road, a track between two hills, composed of ruts and stones, and large holes. On the most barren parts of these hills, there springs a tree which the Indians call guisachel; it resembles the savine, and produces a berry of which ink is made. The road was bordered by bushes, covered with white blossoms, very fragrant. We galloped as fast as our horses would carry us, to escape from the sun; and passed a pretty village on the high road, which is a fine broad causeway in good repair, leading to Guanaxuato. We also passed San Mateo, and then rode over the fields fast home, where we arrived, looking like broiled potatoes....

We had a conversation with ——- this morning, on the subject of the "ejercicios," certain religious exercises, to which, in Mexico, men as well as women annually devote a certain number of days, during which they retire from the world to a religious house or convent, set apart for that purpose, of which some receive male and other female devotees. Here they fast and pray and receive religious instruction, and meditate upon religious subjects during the period of their retreat. A respectable merchant, who, in compliance with this custom, lately retired for a few days to one of these religious establishments, wrote, on entering there, to his head clerk, a young man to whom he was much attached, informing him that he had a presentiment that he would not leave the convent alive, but would die by the time his devotional exercises were completed; giving him some good advice as to his future conduct, together with his last instructions as to his own affairs. He ended with these words: "hasta la eternidad!" until eternity! The letter produced a strong effect on the mind of the young man; but still more, when the merchant died at the end of a few days, as he had predicted, and was carried from the convent to his grave.

MEXICO, Calle Vergara, 12th.

We reached Mexico last evening, and took up our quarters in an inn or hotel kept by an English woman, and tolerably clean, though of course not very agreeable. A number of pronunciado officers are also here—amongst others, General ——-, who I hope will be obliged to go soon, that we may have his parlour; a mysterious English couple; a wounded Colonel, an old gentleman, a fixture in the house, etc. There is a table d'hote, but I believe no ladies dine there. Invitations to take up our quarters in private houses have been pressed upon us with a kindness and cordiality difficult to resist....

Though politics are the only topic of interest at present, I think you will care little for having an account of the Junta of Representatives, or of the elections, with their chiefly military members. Considering by whom the members are chosen, and the object for which they are elected, the result of their deliberations is, as you may suppose, pretty well known beforehand. Military power is strengthened by every act, and all this power is vested in the commanders-in-chief. New batches of generals are made, in order to reward the late distinguished services of the officers, and colonels by hundreds. Eleven generals were created in the division of Paredes alone. Money has been given to the troops in the palace, with orders to purchase new uniforms, which it is said will be very brilliant. There appears, generally speaking, a good deal of half-smothered discontent, and it is whispered that even the revolutionary bankers are half repentant and look gloomy. The only opposition paper is "Un Periodico Mas;" one more periodical—the others are all Ministerial.

In the south there has been some trouble with Generals Bravo and Alvarez, who wish that part of the country to govern itself until the meeting of congress. There was some talk of putting Valencia at the head of the troops which are destined to march against them, but there are now negotiations pending, and it is supposed there will be some agreement made without coming to bloodshed. It is said that orders were sent to General Almonte to leave the republic, and that he answered the despatch with firmness, refusing to acknowledge the authority of Santa Anna. General Bustamante, who is now in Guadalupe, intends to leave the scene of his disasters within a few months. C—-n paid him a visit lately, and though scarcely recovered from his fatigues both of body and mind, he appears cheerful and resigned, and with all the tranquillity which can be inspired only by a good conscience, and the conviction of having done his duty to the best of his abilities....

As for us personally, this revolution has been the most inconvenient revolution that ever took place; doing us all manner of mischief; stopping the sale of our furniture, throwing our affairs into confusion; overthrowing all our plans, and probably delaying our departure until December or January. But in these cases, every one must suffer more or less; and meanwhile, we are surrounded by friends and by friendly attentions. It will be impossible for us to leave Mexico without regret. It requires nothing but a settled government to make it one of the first countries in the world. Santa Anna has much in his power. Reste a savoir how he will use that power. Perhaps in these last years of tranquillity, which he has spent on his estate, he may have meditated to some purpose.

It is singular how, in trying to avoid small evils, we plunge into unknown gulfs of misery; and how little we reflect that it might be wiser to

"Bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of."

Every one has heard of the abuses that produced the first revolution in Mexico—of the great inequality of riches, of the degradation of the Indians, of the high prices of foreign goods, of the Inquisition, of the ignorance of the people, the bad state of the colleges, the difficulty of obtaining justice, the influence of the clergy, and the ignorance in which the Mexican youth were purposely kept. Which of these evils has been remedied? Foreign goods are cheaper, and the Inquisition is not; but this last unchristian institution had surely gradually lost its power before the days of the last viceroy?—But in the sacred name of Liberty, every abuse can be tolerated.

"O fatal name, misleader of mankind, Phantom, too radiant and too much adored! Deceitful Star, whose beams are bright to blind, Although their more benignant influence poured The light of glory on the Switzer's sword, And hallowed Washington's immortal name. Liberty! Thou when absent how deplored, And when received, how wasted, till thy name Grows tarnished; shall mankind, ne'er cease to work thee shame?

"Not from the blood in fiercest battle shed, Nor deeds heroical as arm can do, Is the true strength of manly freedom bred, Restraining tyranny and licence too, The madness of the many and the few. Land, whose new beauties I behold revealed, Is this not true, and bitter as 'tis true? The ruined fane, the desolated field, The ruffian-haunted road, a solemn answer yield.

"Where look the loftiest Cordilleras down From summits hoary with eternal snow On Montezuma's venerable town And storied vale, and Lake of Mexico, These thoughts the shade of melancholy throw On all that else were fair, and gay, and grand As nature in her glory can bestow. For never yet, though liberal her hand, So variously hath she adorned, enriched one land.

"What boots it that from where the level deep Basks in the tropic sun's o'erpow'ring light To where yon mountains lift their wintry steep, All climes, all seasons in one land unite? What boots it that her buried caves are bright With wealth untold of gold or silver ore? While, checked by anarchy's perpetual blight, Industry trembles 'mid her hard-earned store, While rapine riots near in riches stained with gore?

"O sage regenerators of mankind! Patriots of nimble tongue and systems crude! How many regal tyrannies combined, So many fields of massacre have strewed As you, and your attendant cut-throat brood? Man works no miracles; long toil, long thought, Joined to experience, may achieve much good, But to create new systems out of nought, Is fit for Him alone, the universe who wrought.

"But what hath such an hour of such a day To do with human crimes, or earthly gloom? Far wiser to enjoy while yet we may, The mock-bird's song, the orange flower's perfume, The freshness that the sparkling fountain showers. Let nations reach their glory or their doom, Spring will return to dress yon orange bowers, And flowers will still bloom on, and bards will sing of flowers."

21st.—In pursuance of the last-mentioned advice, we have been breakfasting to-day at Tacubaya, with the ——- Minister and his family, and enjoying ourselves there in Madame ——-'s garden. We have also just returned from the Marquesa de ——-'s, where we had a pleasant evening, and met General Paredes, whom I like very much; a real soldier, thin, plain, blunt, and all hacked with wounds.

23rd.—C—-n has been dining at the ——- Minister's, where he met all the great actors in the present drama, and had an agreeable party. We are now thinking of making our escape from this hotel, and of taking a horseback journey into Michoacan, which shall occupy a month or six weeks. Meantime I am visiting, with the Senorita ——-, every hospital, jail, college, and madhouse in Mexico!

26th.—To-day they are celebrating their independence. All the bells in all the churches, beginning with the cathedral, are pealing—cannon firing—rockets rushing up into the air—Santa Anna in the Alameda, speechifying—troops galloping—little boys running—Te Deum chanting—crowds of men and women jostling each other—the streets covered with carriages, the balconies covered with people—the Paseo expected to be crowded. I have escaped to a quiet room, where I am trying to find time to make up my letters before the packet goes. I conclude this just as the dictator, with his brilliant staff, has driven off to Tacubaya.



LETTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH

Opera—Santa Anna and his Suite—His Appearance—Belisario—Solitary "Viva!"—Brilliant House—Military Dictatorship—San Juan de Dios— Hospital de Jesus—Cuna—Old Woman and Baby—Different Apartments— Acordada—Junta—Female Prisoners—Chief Crime—Travaux Forces— Children—Male Prisoners—Forcats—Soldier's Gambling—Chapel— Confessional—Insane Hospital—Frenchmen—Different Kinds of Insanity— Kitchen—Dinner—Insane Monk—"Black Chamber"—Soldiers—College—Santa Anna's Leg—Projects—All Saints—Senora P—-a—Leave-takings.

4th November.

A great funcion was given in the opera in honour of his excellency. The theatre was most brilliantly illuminated with wax lights. Two principal boxes were thrown into one for the president and his suite, and lined with crimson and gold, with draperies of the same. The staircase leading to the second tier where this box was, was lighted by and lined all the way up with rows of footmen in crimson and gold livery. A crowd of gentlemen stood waiting in the lobby for the arrival of the hero of the fete. He came at last in regal state, carriages and outriders at full gallop; himself, staff and suite, in splendid uniform. As he entered, Senor Roca presented him with a libretto of the opera, bound in red and gold. We met the great man en face, and he stopped, and gave us a cordial recognition. Two years have made little change in him in appearance. He retains the same interesting, resigned, and rather melancholy expression; the same quiet voice, and grave but agreeable manner; and surrounded by pompous officers, he alone looked quiet, gentlemanly, and high bred. The theatre was crowded to suffocation; boxes, pit, and galleries. There was no applause as he entered. One solitary voice in the pit said "Viva Santa Anna!" but it seemed checked by a slight movement of disapprobation, scarcely amounting to a murmur. The opera was Belisarius; considered a propos to the occasion, and was really beautifully montee; the dresses new and superb—the decorations handsome. They brought in real horses, and Belisarius entered in a triumphal chariot, drawn by white steeds; but for this the stage is infinitely too small, and the horses plunged and pranced so desperately, that Belisarius wisely jumped out and finished his aria on foot. The two prima donnas acted together—the wife and daughter of the hero—both about the same age, and dressed very well. But the Castellan's voice is not suited to the opera, and the music, beautiful as it is, was the least effective part of the affair. The generals, in their scarlet and gold uniforms, sat like peacocks surrounding Santa Anna, who looked modest and retiring, and as if quite unaccustomed to the public gaze! The boxes were very brilliant—all the diamonds taken out for the occasion. His Excellency is by no means indifferent to beauty—tout au contraire; yet I dare say his thoughts were this night of things more warlike and less fair.

Let all this end as it may, let them give everything whatever name is most popular, the government is now a military dictatorship. Senor ——- calls this revolution "the apotheosis of egotism transformed into virtue;" and it must be confessed, that in most of the actors, it has been a mere calculation of personal interests.

10th.—We went, some days ago, with our friends from San Xavier, to visit the hospital of San Juan de Dios, at San Cosme. We found that, being at present under repair, it has but two occupants, old women—who keep each other melancholy company. The building is very spacious and handsome; erected, of course, during Spanish dominion, and extremely clean—an observation worthy of note, when it occurs in Mexican public buildings. There is a large hall, divided by square pillars, with a light and cheerful aspect, where the patients sleep; and a separate apartment for women. The rooms are all so clean, airy, and cheerful, that one forgets it is an hospital. In this respect, the style of building here is superior to all others, with large airy courtyards and fountains, long galleries and immense apartments, with every window open. There is no part of Europe where, all the year round, invalids can enjoy such advantages; but, also, there are few parts of Europe where the climate would permit them to do so.

The following day we visited another hospital; that known as the Hospital de Jesus—hallowed ground; for here the mortal remains of Cortes were deposited. And, though rescued from desecration by a distinguished individual, during a popular tumult, so that they no longer repose in the sanctuary of the chapel, there still exists, enshrined here, that over which time and revolutions have no power—his memory.

The establishment, as an hospital, is much finer, and the building infinitely handsomer than the other. The director, a physician, led us first into his own apartments, as the patients were dining, and afterwards showed us through the whole establishment. The first large hall, into which we were shown, is almost entirely occupied by soldiers, who had been wounded during the pronunciamiento. One had lost an arm, another a leg, and they looked sad and haggard enough, though they seemed perfectly well attended to, and, I dare say, did anything but bless the revolutions that brought them to that state, and with which they had nothing to do; for your Mexican soldier will lie down on his mat at night, a loyal man, and will waken in the morning and find himself a pronunciado. Each one had a separate room, or at least a compartment divided by curtains from the next; and in each was a bed, a chair, and a small table; this on one side of the long hall. The other was occupied by excellent hot and cold baths. We then visited the women's apartment, which is on a similar plan. Amongst the patients is an unfortunate child of eight years old, who in the pronunciamiento had been accidentally struck by a bullet, which entered her left temple and came out below the right eye, leaving her alive. The ball was extracted, and a portion of the brain came out at the wound. She is left blind, or nearly so, having but a faint glimmering of light. They say she will probably live, which seems impossible. She looks like a galvanized corpse—yet must have been a good-looking child. Notwithstanding the nature of her wound, her reason has not gone, and as she sat upright in her little bed, with her head bandaged, and her fixed and sightless eyes, she answered meekly and readily to all the questions we put to her. Poor little thing! she was shocking to look at; one of the many innocent beings whose lives are to be rendered sad and joyless by this revolution. The doctor seemed very kind to her.

A curious accident happened to Senor ——- in this last pronunciamiento. He had already lost his leg in the first one; and was limping along the street, when he was struck by a ball. He was able to reach his house, and called to his wife, to tell her what had occurred. Her first impulse was to call for a doctor, when he said to her very coolly, "Not this time,—a carpenter will do better." He had been shot in his wooden leg!

At the end of the women's apartment in this hospital, there is a small chapel where mass is said to the invalids. It is only remarkable as having over the altar an image of the Purisima, brought from Spain by Cortes. We went all through the building, even to the enclosure on the azotea, where dead bodies are dissected; and on which azotea was a quantity of wool, taken from the mattresses of those who die in the hospital, and which is left in the sun during a certain period before it is permitted to be used again. The whole establishment struck us as being healthy, cleanly, and well-conducted. We then visited the fine old church, which has but one broad aisle with a handsome altar, and near it is the small monument, under which the bones of the conqueror were placed. The sacristy of the church is remarkable for its ceiling, composed of the most intricately and beautifully carved mahogany; a work of immense labour and taste, after the Gothic style. The divisions of the compartments are painted blue and ornamented with gilding. In the centre of the apartment is an immense circular table, formed of one piece of mahogany; for which large sums have been refused.

We went in the evening to visit the Cuna, which is not a fine building, but a large, healthy, airy house. At the door, where there are a porter and his wife, the babies are now given in. Formerly they were put in at the reja, at the window of the porter's lodge; but this had to be given up, in consequence of the tricks played by boys or idle persons, who put in dogs, cats, or dead animals. As we were going upstairs, we heard an old woman singing a cheerful ditty in an awfully cracked voice, and as we got a full view of her before she could see us, we saw a clean, old body sitting, sewing and singing, while a baby rolling on the floor in a state of perfect ecstasy, was keeping up a sort of crowing duet with her. She seemed delighted to see these ladies, who belong to the Junta, and led us into a large hall where a score of nurses and babies were performing a symphony of singing, hushing, crying, lullabying, and other nursery music. All along the room were little green painted beds, and both nurses and babies looked clean and healthy. The ——-s knew every baby and nurse and directress by name. Some of the babies were remarkably pretty, and when we had admired them sufficiently, we were taken into the next hall, occupied by little girls of two, three, and four years old. They were all seated on little mats at the foot of their small green beds; a regiment of the finest and healthiest children possible; a directress in the room sewing. At our entrance, they all jumped up simultaneously, and surrounded us with the noisiest expressions of delight. One told me in a confidential whisper, that "Manuelita had thumped her own head, and had a pain in it;" but I could not see that Manuelita seemed to be suffering any acute agonies, for she made more noise than any of them. One little girl sidled up to me, and said in a most insinuating voice, "Me llevas tu?" "Will you take me away with you?"—for even at this early age they begin to have a glimmering idea that those whom the ladies choose from amongst them are peculiarly favoured. We staid some time with them, and admired their healthy, happy, and well-fed appearance; and then proceeded to the apartment of the boys; all little things of the same age, sitting ranged in a row like senators in congress, and, strange to say, much quieter and graver than the female babies; but this must have been from shyness, for before we came away, we saw them romping in great style. The directresses seem good respectable women, and kind to the children, who, as I mentioned before, are almost all taken away and brought up by rich people, before they have time to know that there is anything peculiar or unfortunate in their situation. After this adoption, they are completely on a level with the other children of the family—an equal portion is left them, and although their condition is never made a secret of, they frequently marry as well as their adopted brothers and sisters.