I heard a lady in Lord Street talking about the "broiling sun,"
when I was almost in a shiver. They keep up their animal heat by means
of wine and ale, else they could not bear this climate.
July 19th.--A week ago I made a little tour in North Wales with Mr.
Bright. We left Birkenhead by railway for Chester at two o'clock; thence
for Bangor; thence by carriage over the Menai bridge to Beaumaris. At
Beaumaris, a fine old castle,--quite coming up to my idea of what an old
castle should be. A gray, ivy-hung exterior wall, with large round
towers at intervals; within this another wall, the place of the
portcullis between; and again, within the second wall the castle itself,
with a spacious green court-yard in front. The outer wall is so thick
that a passage runs in it all round the castle, which covers a space of
three acres. This passage gives access to a chapel, still very perfect,
and to various apartments in the towers,--all exceedingly dismal, and
giving very unpleasant impressions of the way in which the garrison of
the castle lived. The main castle is entirely roofless, but the hall and
other rooms are pointed out by the guide, and the whole is tapestried
with abundant ivy, so that my impression is of gray walls, with here and
there a vast green curtain; a carpet of green over the floors of halls
and apartments; and festoons around all the outer battlement, with an
uneven and rather perilous foot-path running along the top.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112