we had traveled from Guadalajara, for the more luxurious method of conveyance. We passed to the left of Chapultepec and the Molino del Rey, and directly by the famous tree under which Hernando Cortez found shelter on the memorable Noche Triste, when his forces cut their way by night through the hosts of the infuriated Aztecs, piled up the dead to make a causeway on which to escape across the shallow laguna, and at last, sorely pressed, disheartened, and almost annihilated, escaped from the city. Then the glorious panorama of the great City of Mexico unrolled itself before us.
At the Grarita de San Cosme, the stern, old champion of Republicanism, the man of many adventures and the most wonderful history and most varied fortunes, the man of the iron will and indomitable resolution which stand out on every feature, the man with the charmed life, who has escaped unscathed from more plots, conspiracies, and accidents, than any other man now living; the man who will live in history as one of the wonders of our age, the man sent by Providence to repel foreign invasion, crush and destroy the despotism of the church, free the peon, establish schools, suppress insurrections, deal the last blow at imperialism in America, and rule a turbulent nation with a rod of iron, the Citizen President, Benito Juarez, stood waiting to receive the nation's guest. He was dressed in plain black, and had not even a liveried servant in attendance; his wife and daughter accompanied him. The brief, friendly greeting over, and the other members of our party having been introduced by Señor Bossero, the cavalcade resumed its way and entered the Capital City of the Republic.
Driving past the old Alameda de Montezuma, where
