of the ocean. Far away to the north extended the mountain crests of Anahuac, and on the other hand rose the lotty peak of Iztaccihuatl, and still further to the left, and towering still higher into the clouds, "the great volcan," Popocatepetl, — the cold bleak winds of winter ever whistling about their summits, and the gentle breezes of an unending summer sporting and playing with the shrubs and flowers that blossom at their feet.[1]
From Rio Frio the descent is rapid. Shortly after the advance of the army emerged from the pass, and on turning an angle of the mountains, which left their view to the westward entirely unobstructed, the Valley of Mexico burst upon them like some vision of enchantment. Spread out before them, and beneath them, lay the gorgeous panorama, of hill and mountain, grove and forest, river and lake, hamlet and city, — upon which they gazed with emotions similar to those with which Hannibal and his followers looked down from the Alps, over the fair plains of Italy; or those that animated the mail-clad warriors of Cortés, when they sounded their cheering war-cry of "San Jago and San Pedro!" through these wild gorges, or, flushed with victory and conquest, turned their eyes upon the same glorious scenes, beholding, "in the midst, — like some Indian empress with her coronal of pearls, — the fair city of Mexico, with her white towers and pyramidal temples, reposing, as it were, on the bosom of the waters, — the far-famed 'Venice of the Aztecs!'"[2]
The Valley of Mexico, or Tenochtitlan, as it was called
- ↑ These two mountains, in former times, were looked upon by the Indians as divinities; Iztaccihuatl, "the white woman," as the name signifies, being regarded, according to their superstition, as the wife of Popocatepetl, or "the hill that smokes." During the past century the latter has rarely been in a state of activity.
- ↑ Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, vol. ii. p. 51.
