The huts, though poor, were clean; no windows, but a certain subdued light
makes its way through the leafy canes. We procured some tumblers of new
milk, and having changed mules, pursued our journey, now no longer through
hills of sand, but across the country, through a wilderness of trees and
flowers, the glowing productions of tierra caliente. We arrived about five
at Manga de Clavo, after passing through leagues of natural garden, the
property of Santa Anna.

The house is pretty, slight-looking, and kept in nice order. We were
received by an aide-de-camp in uniform, and by several officers, and
conducted to a large, cool, agreeable apartment, with little furniture,
into which shortly entered the Senora de Santa Anna, tall, thin, and, at
that early hour of the morning, dressed to receive us in clear white
muslin, with white satin shoes, and with very splendid diamond earrings,
brooch, and rings. She was very polite, and introduced her daughter
Guadalupe, a miniature of her mamma, in features and costume.

In a little while entered General Santa Anna himself; a gentlemanly,
good-looking, quietly-dressed, rather melancholy-looking person, with one
leg, apparently somewhat of an invalid, and to us the most interesting
person in the group. He has a sallow complexion, fine dark eyes, soft and
penetrating, and an interesting expression of face. Knowing nothing of his
past history, one would have said a philosopher, living in dignified
retirement--one who had tried the world, and found that all was
vanity--one who had suffered ingratitude, and who, if he were ever
persuaded to emerge from his retreat, would only do so, Cincinnatus-like,
to benefit his country. It is strange, how frequently this expression of
philosophic-resignation, of placid sadness, is to be remarked on the
countenances of the deepest, most ambitious, and most designing men. C---n