ls.

In front of the city, built upon the coral reef, stands the celebrated
fortress-castle of San Juan de Ulloa. It is about one thousand yards
out from the mole, and over one of its angles towers a lighthouse. Its
walls, with the reef on which it stands (Gallega), shelter the harbour
of Vera Cruz--which, in fact, is only a roadstead--from the north winds.
Under the lee of San Juan the ships of commerce lie at anchor. There
are but few of them at any time.

Another large fort (Concepcion) stands upon the beach at the northern
angle of the city, and a third (Santiago) defends it towards the south.
A circular bastion, with heavy pieces of ordnance, sweeps the plain to
the rear, commanding it as far as the sand-ridges.

Vera Cruz is a pretty picture to look at, either from the sea or from
the sand-hills in the interior. Its massive domes--its tall steeples
and turreted roofs--its architecture, half Moorish, half modern--the
absence of scattered suburbs or other salient objects to distract the
eye--all combine to render the City of the True Cross an unique and
striking picture. In fact, its numerous architectural varieties, bound
as they are into compact unity by a wall of dark lava-stone, impress you
with the idea that some artist had arranged them for the sake of effect.
The _coup d'oeil_ often reminded me of the engravings of cities in
_Goldsmith's Epitome_, that used to be considered the bright spots in my
lessons of school geography.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

At break of day, on the 10th, the army took up its line of march through
hills of sand-drift. Division lapped upon division, regiment upon
regiment, extending the circle of investment by an irregular echelon.
Foot rifles and light infantry drove the enemy from ridge to ridge, and
through the dark mazes of the chaparral gorge. The column continued its
tortuous track, winding through deep denies, and over hot white hills,
like a bristling snake. It moved within range of the guns of the city,
screened by intervening heights. Now and then the loud cannon of
Santiago opened upon it, as some regiment displayed itself, crossing a
defile or pushing over the spur of a sand-hill. The constant rattling
of rifles and musketry told that our skirmishers were busy in the
advance. The arsenal was carried by a brilliant charge, and the
American flag waved over the ruins of the Convent Malibran. On the 11th
the Oriz