me infinitely. The eyes however glared upon vacancy. The face was thin and sallow, the beard long and matted, and the cheeks sunken. What long years of suffering appeared to have passed over that furrowed brow! I wish I had not seen it. . . .
We afterwards went to the college of Bizcainos, that K might see it—my third and last visit. What a palace! What courts and fountains!—We went over the whole building as before, from the azotea downwards, and from the porter's lodge upwards. Many of the scholars who went out during the revolution, have not yet returned. K was in admiration at the galleries, which look like long vaulted streets, and at the chapel, which is certainly remarkably rich. . . .
Having stopt in the carriage on the way home, at a shoemaker's, we saw Santa Anna's leg lying on the counter, and observed it with due respect, as the prop of a hero. With this leg, which is fitted with a very handsome boot, he reviews his troops next Sunday, putting his best foot foremost; for generally he merely wears an unadorned wooden leg. The shoemaker, a Spaniard, whom I can recommend to all customers as the most impertinent individual I ever encountered, was arguing in a blustering manner, with a gentleman who had brought a message from the General, desiring some alteration in the boot; and wound up by muttering, as the messenger left the shop, "He shall either wear it as it is, or review the troops next Sunday without his leg!"[1]
- ↑ Boston, November, 1842.—Apropos des bottes. I copy the following paragraph from an Havana newspaper:
"Mexico, 28th September.—Yesterday, was buried with pomp and solemnity, in the cemetery of Saint Paul, the foot which his Excellency, President Santa Anna, lost in the action of the 5th. December, 1838. It was deposited in a monument erected for that purpose, Don Ignacio Sierra y Roso having pronounced a funeral discourse appropriate to the subject."
