Visit to Contreras and San Angel.--The End of a brave Soldier.--A Place of Skulls.--A New England Dinner.--An Adventure with Robbers--doubtful.--Reasons for revisiting Mexico.--The Battle at the Mountain of Crosses.--A peculiar Variety of the Cactus.--Three Men gibbeted for robbing a Bishop.---A Court upon Horseback.--The retreat of Cortez to Otumba.--A venerable Cypress Grove.--Unexpectedly comfortable Quarters.--An English Dinner at Tezcuco.--Pleasures unknown to the Kings of Tezcuco.--Relics of Tezcuco.--The Appearance of the Virgin Mary at Tezcuco.--The Causeways of Mexico. A RIDE TO SAN ANGEL. The ride to San Angel has this advantage over all others out of Mexico, that the road is nearly all the way upon dry land, thus presenting a pleasant contrast to the gloominess of all the others, except the Tacuba road. There is less of stagnant water, and little appearance of _tequisquite_. It is lined with fields of corn and maguey. Contreras is upon this road--the point where Santa Anna's line of defenses was first broken, and broken in the same way as at Cerro Gordo, and by the same officer, the late General Riley. It was the defect of all Mexican military operations, that they were not sufficiently on the look-out for night attacks. In the night Riley had been allowed to get behind the position of his adversary at Cerro Gordo; and here again he got behind and above him, by crawling up a ravine in a foggy night, from which point he charged Valencia in reverse. That successful charge of the brave old soldier raised him to the brevet rank of Major General, and sealed the fate of the city. What sort of a victory has it proved to the hero of this battle? He had spent the best portion of his life in the Indian territory, arranging difficulties, appeasing strifes, overawing the turbulent, and restraining the lawlessness of white intruders. And now he had become an old man, with the rank only of Major, as he had no kind friend at court. But the Mexican war opened to him the prospect of winning a "sash" or of being brought home in a coffin. The sash was won, but the coffin was near at hand; for, while he was gaining his laurels, he contracted a cancer, which in a short time after his return from a distant command, consigned him to the home prepared for all living. Forty long years had he followed the profession of arms, and endured its hardships without a murmur; yet, when he laid down his sword to die, he had nothing to leave to his children but the commissions Congress had awarded him on his California revenues. War is a hard trade for the bravest of the brave, and with very few prizes except to political favorites, who with high-sounding titles, but without military experience, ride by the side of some brave subaltern, gather his laurels, and enjoy the fruits of his experience.