Chapter Thirty One.
Demonté.
It had not yet reached the hour of midnight, as we left the Great National Road, and commenced moving up the mountain,—in a lateral though somewhat parallel course to that we had been following.
For a mile we marched along a path, where wheels might have passed at a pinch.
We could see by the starlight that there were some small settlements on each side, and one more conspicuous above, which we knew to be the hacienda of Buena Vista—famed as the spot where the best view can be had of the valley of Mexico. From this circumstance does the dwelling derive its name; and he who from its azotea can look downward, without having his soul stirred within him, must be incapable of romantic emotion.
On approaching from the coast—I mean Vera Cruz—it is here the traveller first obtains a good view (buena vista) of the world-renowned “Valle of Tenochtitlan;” here that he first comes within sight of the City of the Moctezumas.
Story-telling tourists can see it from the summit of the Sierra—looking through the long-leaved pines! Almost every one who has written a book about Mexico has made this plausible assertion.
But it must be remembered that these books have been mostly compiled after the travellers had returned home; and, in some instances to my knowledge, before they started out—not having started at all!