LETTER THE FORTY-FIFTH. Leave Mexico - Travelling equipage San Xavier-Fine haci enda - Millionaires - Well-educated ladies. Garden, &c. Tlanapantla Indian hut - Mrs. Ward-Doña Margarita The pronunciamiento · False step- Santa Anna in Puebla Neutrality-General Paredes — President in Tlanapantla Their march Their return Curate's house General Paredes in the Lecheria President in Return of the President and his Tired troops Murder Tlanapantla - A meeting troops General Paredes and his men Santa Anna in Tacubaya A junction - President in Mexico Plan Allied sovereigns Articles President declares for federalism. signs Results - Hostilities try Te Deum - New ministry. SAN XAVIER, 16th September. AFTER a morning of fatigue, confusion, bustle, leavetaking, &c., &c., 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 handshakings, and prophecies of breaking down and of being robbed by a band of forçats 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 eports 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 magueys, whose head never bends to the blast, we are surrounded by fields of waving corn. There are also plenty of trees; poplar, ash and elm; and one flourishing specimen of the latter species, which we see from the windows in front of the house, was brought here by Mr. Poinsett. The hacienda, which is about three leagues from Mexico, is a large irregular building in rather a low situation, surrounded by dark blue hills. It belongs to the Señoras de Fa, 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 neighborhood, 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, scantilyclothed 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-colored child, about three years old, sleeping all alone on the DONA MARGARITA. 239 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 farm house, where we entered a sort of oratorio attached to the house; a room which is not consecrated, but has an altar, crucifix, holy pictures, &c. 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, Doña 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 Doña Margarita's care; nevertheless, we saw various healthy, happy |