long ago had doubtless some share,--a musty odor, by no means amounting
to a stench, but unpleasant, and, I should think, unwholesome. Old
wood-work, and old stones, and antiquity of all kinds, moral and
physical, go to make up this smell. I observed it in the cathedral, and
Chester generally has it, especially under the Rows. After all, the
necessary damp and lack of sunshine, in such a shadowy old church as
this, have probably more to do with it than the dead people have;
although I did think the odor was particularly strong over some of the
tombstones. Not having shillings to give the sexton, we were forced to
give him half a crown.

The Church of St. John is outside of the city walls. Entering the East
gate, we walked awhile under the Rows, bought our tickets for Eaton Hall
and its gardens, and likewise some playthings for the children; for this
old city of Chester seems to me to possess an unusual number of
toy-shops. Finally we took a cab, and drove to the Hall, about four
miles distant, nearly the whole of the way lying through the wooded Park.
There are many sorts of trees, making up a wilderness, which looked not
unlike the woods of our own Concord, only less wild. The English oak is
not a handsome tree, being short and sturdy, with a round, thick mass of
foliage, lying all within its own bounds. It was a showery day. Had
there been any sunshine, there might doubtless have been many beautiful
effects of light and shadow in these woods. We saw one or two herds of
deer, quietly feeding, a hundred yards or so distant. They appeared to
be somewhat wilder than cattle, but, I think, not much wilder than sheep.
Their ancestors have probably been in a half-domesticated state,
receiving food at the hands of man, in winter, for centuries. There is a
kind of poetry in this, quite as much as if they were really wild deer,
such as their forefathers were, when Hugh Lupus used to hunt them.