A large proportion of the edifices in the Rows must be comparatively
modern; but there are some very ancient ones, with oaken frames visible
on the exterior. The Row, passing through these houses, is railed with
oak, so old that it has turned black, and grown to be as hard as stone,
which it might be mistaken for, if one did not see where names and
initials have been cut into it with knives at some bygone period.
Overhead, cross-beams project through the ceiling so low as almost to hit
the head. On the front of one of these buildings was the inscription,
"GOD'S PROVIDENCE IS MINE INHERITANCE," said to have been put there by
the occupant of the house two hundred years ago, when the plague spared
this one house only in the whole city. Not improbably the inscription
has operated as a safeguard to prevent the demolition of the house
hitherto; but a shopman of an adjacent dwelling told us that it was soon
to be taken down.
Here and there, about some of the streets through which the Rows do not
run, we saw houses of very aged aspect, with steep, peaked gables. The
front gable-end was supported on stone pillars, and the sidewalk passed
beneath. Most of these old houses seemed to be taverns,--the Black Bear,
the Green Dragon, and such names. We thought of dining at one of them,
but, on inspection, they looked rather too dingy and close, and of
questionable neatness. So we went to the Royal Hotel, where we probably
fared just as badly at much more expense, and where there was a
particularly gruff and crabbed old waiter, who, I suppose, thought
himself free to display his surliness because we arrived at the hotel on
foot.
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