Up to the moment of starting we had been told by our officer that General Valencia1 and family would be out to see us that day; and having learned that they had greatly interested themselves the year previous for our Santa Fé prisoners, we felt flattered at this information. How suddenly our fond expectation was changed! In a few minutes each of us had to roll up his dirty blanket and sheepskin, take them under his arm, and march down the street with a  file of mounted lancers on each hand. We had proceeded but a few hundred yards when we met the splendid equipage - a Parisian coach and United States horses - of General Valencia, with himself, wife, and daughters. They were, in fact, as our officer informed us, upon a visit to the archbishop, it being some important saint-day.
From the manner in which they noticed us in passing, they seemed to know that we were Texians. This they may have easily inferred, both from our national costume - for we were too national to wear anything after Mexican fashion when we could avoid it - and also from our national up-head appearance. Freemen carry their heads higher than subjects, their hearts swell larger, and they are infinitely more proud.
Just at this time, when we met these beautiful young ladies - and they were of as fair complexion, dressed as fashionably, and looked as well as the best of our country - we felt all the elements of disgust, contempt, and bitter hostility for a nation so regardless of the obligations of truth and good faith. We now ascertained to our satisfaction that General Ampudia's reiterated and gratuitous promises to us were either made in bad faith, or that they had been wholly disregarded by his government; and when we passed these young ladies, whatever may have been our appearance, we felt like freemen. John Rodgers at the stake could not have felt more independent: we gave them a soldier's salute,  and staggered on with our sheepskin bundles. Thus we trudged on half a mile farther, when the heart of our officer melted within him. He met a miserable lepero,2 leading a still more miserable mule, and permitted us to give four prices for the privilege of packing our bundles upon the poor animal.
Our road now lay east, and we had to pass through the southern suburbs of the city. In coming to Tacubaya we passed through the northern and western confines of the city, and now we were making almost a circle around it to reach the great stage-road leading to Puebla. When we reached the southern suburb we met some Péons with a number of burros, asses, returning from the city, where they had been packing charcoal to market. Our officer here discharged the lepero and his mule, and allowed us to hire some burros.
In Mexico they have but few wheel carriages, and everything is transported upon the backs of animals. In every part of the country we met immense numbers of mules and asses packed with every species of goods which constitutes the commerce of the country. The mules are usually fine. The best I have