from the guide-book. After this we went into the cathedral, which I will
perhaps describe on some other occasion, when I shall have seen more of
it, and to better advantage. The cloisters gave us the strongest
impression of antiquity; the stone arches being so worn and blackened by
time. Still an American must always have imagined a better cathedral
than this. There were some immense windows of painted glass, but all
modern. In the chapter-house we found a coal-fire burning in a grate,
and a large heap of old books--the library of the cathedral--in a
discreditable state of decay,--mildewed, rotten, neglected for years.
The sexton told us that they were to be arranged and better ordered.
Over the door, inside, hung two failed and tattered banners, being those
of the Cheshire regiment.

The most utterly indescribable feature of Chester is the Rows, which
every traveller has attempted to describe. At the height of several feet
above some of the oldest streets, a walk runs through the front of the
houses, which project over it. Back of the walk there are shops; on the
outer side is a space of two or three yards, where the shopmen place
their tables, and stands, and show-cases; overhead, just high enough for
persons to stand erect, a ceiling. At frequent intervals little narrow
passages go winding in among the houses, which all along are closely
conjoined, and seem to have no access or exit, except through the shops,
or into these narrow passages, where you can touch each side with your
elbows, and the top with your hand. We penetrated into one or two of
them, and they smelt anciently and disagreeably. At one of the doors
stood a pale-looking, but cheerful and good-natured woman, who told us
that she had come to that house when first married, twenty-one years
before, and had lived there ever since; and that she felt as if she had
been buried through the best years of her life. She allowed us to peep
into her kitchen and parlor,--small, dingy, dismal, but yet not wholly