Page:A series of intercepted letters in Mexico.djvu/36

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which they boast. You know that even here a thousand lies are told coming only from the distance of our next neighbor, therefore, how much more exaggerated they will be when travelling to you. Do not be afflicted, but hold all you hear in quarantine. Recommend yourself to God and trust in him, and he will take care of us.MARIA.

P. S.—Dear Uncle, I refer you to my sister's letter for the news. I can add nothing to it but that we, the Mexicans, are ——— JUAN.

[The blank is not filled in the original.]


Mexico, Aug. 20th, 1847.

 * * I know not how to begin to write these few lines, giving you the destiny of this unfortunate city, the theatre of one of the most horrible of wars. Yesterday the enemy and the division of Valencia came in contact among the hills of San Angel, and maintained, on one and the other side, a most horrible firing from 12 o'clock until night.

This morning it was seen that Valencia had abandoned his position, and it is said they are prisoners with the artillery. At 3 o'clock, p. m., we have had another well disputed action between San Antonio and another little town called "Los Arcos" (Churubusco?): it was likewise lost, the troops retiring in disorder to the gate of San Antonio Abad, where it is expected they will fight to-morrow and the day after, probably, at the palace.

It is a shame to have it said, that ten thousand men subjugated a city of two hundred thousand inhabitants, and an army of thirty thousand men that defended it. It appears that there is neither tactics, nor genius, nor fortune among us. God save us, for certainly his justice has decreed our ruin. M.S.


August 20th.

Anita:—I have entered the city of Mexico to witness the ignominy of my country. Fear and consternation pervade the whole city. I do not fear the enemy, who have suffered much, but I have no confidence in our dispersed soldiers, who are all of them robbers, most of them drunk, and may braek open the houses. To-morrow this farce must be concluded. To-morrow I go to Tlahupantle, to lament, in the bosom of my family, the misfortune of being a Mexican, and having children born in this nation of corruption and evil. M. G.


[The letter is well written, giving the usual account of the