hostile fleet of any strength. So well aware are the military men and Government of Mexico of this fact, that no attempt is now made to improve it, or even keep it in repair; and it is now considered merely as a fortified prison, rather than as a real castle of defense against invaders. A vigorous bombardment of a few hours by heavy artillery would reduce it to a pile of ruins, but there is no likelihood of any necessity for even that, as the experience of Gen. Scott and other commanders, shows that the city can be taken with little trouble by an attack from the land side, and the castle is then useless to either party.
Leaving our boat at the landing, we passed into the main square or parade-ground, and from thence to the Salle des Armas, where we were received most courteously by the commandant Colonel Carbo, Captain Fortunato Mendez the second in command, and their subordinates. Even at this time—the early part of January—the heat of the sun—reflected back from the cement pavement and the white walls surrounding—was oppressive in the plaza as we passed through it; what it must be in June, July, or August, I have no wish to know from experience. It must be perfectly fearful.
The commandant was a young man of slight statue, but said to be a good officer and a man of great bravery and determination of character. From his quarters we went through the interior of the castle. The garrison consisted of two hundred men, and within the gloomy dungeons of this fearful place there were eighty prisoners, civil and military, several of whom are under sentence of imprisonment for life.
These dungeons were constructed by the Spaniards, and all smell of the rack, torture, and inquisition. My
