[SEE ENGRAVING.]
The city of Puebla lies in the centre of an immense plateau, seven thousand feet above sea level, and bordered by mountains of more than twice this altitude. Malinchi, rendered classic in the history of the first conquest, rises on the north; the Piñal bars up the eastern passes, while the great Cordillera of the Rio Frio forms its western boundary, thus separating the two great valleys of Puebla and Mexico by an almost impassible barrier. In this ridge lie the great snow mountains of Popocatepec and the “White Woman,” (la muger blanca,) known poetically as the “Twin Sisters.”
These mountains soar far above the regions of eternal snow. Popocatepec is a cone, and the gray fringe that marks the blending of the white glacier and the dark pines of the mountain forest, forms the circumference of a horizontal circle. On the White Woman this snow line is more irregular. On both mountains its altitude is variable, according to the season and the heat of the sun. Thus the melting of the snows in the sultry months of summer throws the gray fringe higher up the sides of Popocatepec and Ixticihuath, and irrigates the broad plains of Puebla and Tlaxcalla.
But for these snow-crowned mountains the plateau of Puebla would be a barren desert. As it is, the western segment of this plain may be termed the garden spot of Mexico.
As the traveler emerges from the western gate of Puebla, he beholds one of the loveliest pictures in the world. The delighted eye roams over broad fields of corn and wheat, and “frijoles,” bordered by fence rows of the picturesque maguey—here and there the cupolas of rich haciendas—the turrets of a flourishing village, and the spires of a rural church variegate the green landscape, while in the distance rises the dark Cordilleras of the Mexican Andes, over whose gloomy forests and frowning chasms the snowy crests of the “Twin Sisters” glisten with a dazzling whiteness.
This is, perhaps, the fairest picture in Mexico. Its beauty, however, did not protect it from the desolating influence of war, and during the occupation of Puebla by the American army, bands of robbers under the name of “guerilleros,” alike hostile to Mexican and American, roamed over the fairest portions of this district, committing every species of outrage upon its peaceful inhabitants.
The American army entered Puebla in the month of May, 1847. The inhabitants, one hundred thousand in number, were struck with astonishment at the boldness of the act. They had been expecting an army of at least ten thousand men. Instead of this, ninety dragoons rode into the piazza alone, where they halted to await the advance of the army, in all, not numbering four thousand men. Hundreds of Mexicans counted our soldiers as they crossed the bridge of “Noche buena,” and the feeling that existed in the breasts of the Poblanos, after our entry into their city, was one of shame, that they had permitted such a handful of men to take the old and warlike town of Puebla without a blow having been struck in its defense.
They might apparently have stoned us to death.
Santa Anna repulsed at Amozoc, had retreated upon San Martin, and now held that fair district with his rabble soldiery.
On finding that it was not in the power of the American commander to advance beyond Puebla for a time, the bright idea struck Santa Anna of rousing the national pride once more in defense of their capital. He consequently crossed the mountains at Rio Frio, and commenced fortifying the ancient city of the Aztecs, leaving however a large guerilla force, who roamed at will over the western plain of Puebla and occupied San Martin, Tlaxcalla, and Atlixco. These at first commenced hostilities by stopping the supplies of the Puebla market, which depends altogether upon the fertile districts of the west. Finding, however, that the American gold received in exchange for the fruits and vegetables of San Martin, served their purposes better than revenge, the guerillas at length permitted the produce to pass, levying a heavy contribution upon each article.