and sent away to relieve the sentries. Ascending
another flight of steps, I arrived in a
large square. Here there were no ruins,
excepting the cannon (long rows of which
were displayed in all the deformity and rust
of by-gone years), but I noticed ranges of
great and comfortless-looking buildings,
and in the middle, amidst much bleak
wind and sharp flying dust, I saw a tall
statue of an officer raised upon a
pediment, with one leg, and a very handsome
one, put forth to display a particularly well-
made Hessian boot. Not finding anything
attractive in this great draughty square, I
turned off to the left, and very quickly found
myself in the vicinity of barracks, where
soldiers were standing out in front of their
doors, without coat or waistcoat, washing
their faces, and laughing, and carrying on
practical jokes with each other. A strange
mixture of things, all this seemed. A great
square, great new buildings, and barracks
with soldiers, all in the midst of dilapidation
and absolute ruins of long standing, exactly
like the appearance of things after a great fire!

I turned down a passage, and soon
discovered that I was making a semicircle in
the opposite direction to the one I had first
perambulated. Similar sights presented
themselves. Everywhere the same melancholy,
squalid, deserted appearance—dilapidated
houses, fallen houses, heaps of brick-rubbish
—desolate Artillery Officers' Quarters—
soldiers' canteens, sending forth prelusive odours
of beer, tobacco, and sawdust, so that I knew
of them before I came upon their crude
and careless temporary sheds—and broken
windows in houses that ought to have known
better, some of which were patched up with
rags and paper.

I made my way out in a far more puzzled
state of mind than when I came in; and,
passing over the drawbridge, I stopped to
read an inscription upon a long board. It
was exhibited upon a place that looked—from
the booth-like shape and colour of it, its dirty
locality, the heaps of rubbish all round it, its
huge, showman-like placard, and its man in a
very dirty dress of red cloth and old gold-lace,
with a little round black squab hat and gold
band, walking up and down in front—exactly
like a show at a fair, the morning after the
fair. The inscription upon the long board
was:—" Ticket Office for the Sale of Tickets
of Admission. Tickets for the Armouries,
Sixpence each person; Tickets for the Jewel
Houses, Sixpence each person."

On inquiry, I learned that this was the
great TOWER OF LONDON! But so far from
being considered as a ruin, it was regarded
with all manner of awe, as a formidable place
of strength; so far from being uninhabited,
many soldiers, and many officers (most of them
superiors, having leave of absence, we suppose)
resided in it; and that, so far from being
neglected, it was regarded as a sort of dusky
town, or very close and quiet borough, out of
which a very great variety of incomes, places,
fees, and emoluments were derived by a great
number of meritorious individuals, whose
claims upon the gratitude of their devoted
country were fully recognised by those eminent
personages who happened to be aware of the
fact, and had the power to bestow such rewards.

That a place of such magnitude—comprising
a number of great stone buildings, surrounded
by a ruined town of small houses—should
need a good many officers, as well as men, to
keep it in proper order, I can have no doubt.
The sort of order, or disorder, that it really
presents, cannot, however, lay an equal claim
to be represented by many persons of authority
and importance. I trust, therefore,
that it is only the gossip of the place which
boasts that the Tower still has its Constable,
the Duke; its Lieutenant, the Knightly Major-
General; its Deputy Lieutenant, the Honourable
Colonel; its Gentleman Porter; its
Gentleman Gaoler; its Physician; its Chaplain;
its Chief Bailiff; and—but really this is
rather strong—its Gentleman Headsman,—
because, if this be a true list of some of the
posts and places, I cannot help fancying they
must be uncommonly like sinecures! Nice
quiet " places," quite in the shade, never
dreamed of by any hunter after abuses in
the disposal of the public money. Besides
the above, there are the Major; certain other
officers, and non-commissioned officers; the
Assistant Chaplain; the Apothecary (who is,
no doubt, the Deputy Physician); the Yeoman
Porter (obviously the deputy of the Gentleman
Porter); the Master Gunner; the Coroner;
the Clerk of the Peace (who, we make bold to
imagine, might be turned into a War Clerk
in time of need), and some others,—by whom
all the onerous and inexplicable duties of the
place are carried on. I admit that this was
not given to me upon evidence and authority;
and yet I can't help fancying that some part
of it must be true. The Tower is certainly
a tempting opportunity for a quiet shady
"place " or two.

I returned to my hotel, somewhat humbled
at my mistake or my stupidity. I was as
sure as ever that the Castle of Caernarvon
was a magnificent old ruin: but after what
I had seen of the Tower of London, and
been told of the many high offices it finds
cover for, all the old fortresses in my poor
country must hide their dismantled heads.
If, however, the Tower really be a strong
place and worth keeping up, why on earth
should it be left surrounded by such squalor
and disgrace, and with no apparent intention
of making itself decent?

Now Ready, Price 5s. 6d., neatly bound in Cloth,
THE FOURTH VOLUME
OF
HOUSEHOLD WORDS.
Containing Nos. 79 to 103 inclusive, (from September 27
1851, to March 13, 1852.)