The Saxons in turn, perceiving the weakness of the unfortunate Britons, determined on possessing themselves of the country; and, during the conflict that ensued, Chester was frequently taken and retaken by the respective belligerents, and many a fierce and bloody battle raged beneath its Walls. In 607, for instance, Ethelred, King of Northumberland, laid siege to the city; and, after a sanguinary struggle outside the Walls, during which he put one thousand two hundred British monks to the sword, wrested the city from its native defenders. Again, however, the Britons returned to the rescue; and, driving out the usurpers, retained possession of Chester for more than two hundred years.
The Danes were the next invaders of old Chester; but, about the year 908, Ethelred, Earl of Mercia, and Ethelfleda, his countess, restored the shattered Walls and Gates of the city; in which state they remained,
Bristling with spears, and bright with burnish’d shields,
through many a long and eventful epoch of England’s history, Chester’s faithful safeguard against every foe. In what good stead they availed the city during the trying period of the great Civil War, a former chapter has sufficiently declared; and, though we cannot but rejoice that those days of anarchy and confusion have passed away, yet are we sure, should the direful necessity again arise, the hearts of the men of Chester will still beat as loyally, and their stalwart arms emulate as nobly, the glorious deeds of their forefathers of yore! And now for our proposed Walk round these celebrated Walls.
The steps we have just ascended give us but poor “first impressions” of the Walls, the view being blocked up on either side by most unpicturesque buildings. But when we have proceeded northward a few steps, a prospect of venerable magnificence suddenly reveals itself. To our left, and so close that we can hear the organ pealing forth its joyous hallelujahs, we have a splendid view of the Cathedral of St. Werburgh, seen here, perhaps, to greater advantage than from any other accessible point. The first glance will show us that it is a cruciform structure, as most of our cathedrals are, the massive and weather-beaten tower standing just in the centre compartment of the cross. The left wing, though an integral portion of the building, is, nevertheless, a separate parish church, dedicated to St. Oswald. The choir itself occupies the entire range of the edifice between us and the tower, the Chapel of Our Ladye being in the immediate foreground. At our feet lie numberless memorials of the dead, which—
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck’d,
Implore the passing tribute of a sigh.
This ground has served for a place of sepulture almost since the Conquest, and has only recently been closed by act of parliament.
Deferring our special notice of the Cathedral, until “a more convenient season,” we shortly find ourselves at the end of Abbey Street, and immediately over the Kaleyards Gate. This postern leads to the cabbage and kale gardens, which formerly belonged to the Abbot and Convent of St. Werburgh. The opening was permitted to be made for their convenience in the reign of Edward I. to prevent the necessity of bringing their vegetables by a circuitous route through the East Gate. The “good things” in vogue among these reverend fathers were not, it is evident, wholly spiritual. A defunct ropery, timberyard, and infant school now flourish on the spot where monkish cabbages and conventual kale in old time grew.
A few paces farther on was a quadrangular abutment, on which formerly stood a tower called The Sadlers’ Tower, from its having been the meeting-room of the Company of Sadlers. This tower was taken down in 1780; and the abutment, which marked the place where it stood, was demolished in 1828.
We are now at an interesting portion of the Walls. Do you see that mouldering old turret some fifty yards a-head of us? Three hundred years ago it was familiarly known as Newton’s Tower; but the men of the present day call it the Phœnix Tower, from the figure of the phœnix, which is the crest of one of the city companies, ornamenting the front of the structure. Look up, as we approach it, and read, over its elevated portal, the startling announcement, that