The Walls, continued.—The Roodeye.—Chester Races.—The Castle of the Olden Time, and the Castle of To-day.—The Grosvenor Bridge.—CÆsar’s Tower.—Handbridge and Edgar’s Cave.—Bridgegate.—Dee Mills and Bridge.—Causeway.—Queen’s Park and Wishing Steps.—The Newgate and its Traditions.—The East Gate.

Well, here we are, on a beautiful meadow, eighty-four acres in extent, clad in Nature’s own mantle of brightest green, and bearing the euphonious name of the Roodeye. This splendid pasture, now so cheerful to look upon, has not always worn the same gay aspect. In ages past and gone—when the Saxon and the Norman held sway over the land—when colossal Liverpool was but a simple fishing-hamlet—the infant commerce of England was borne along the surging billows of the Dee, up to the very Walls of Chester. In those days the spacious lawn before us was covered with water at every tide, save only a bank or eye of land near the centre, which being surmounted by a plain substantial stone cross, acquired the name of the Roodeye, or the Island of the Cross. Are you fond of legends?—Here then is one that may gratify your taste.

Once upon a time (you must not ask when) the Christians of Hawarden, a few miles down the river, were in a sad strait for lack of rain. Now it so happened that in the church of that place there stood an image of the Virgin Mary, called Holy Rood. To her shrine then repaired the faithful and fearful of all classes to pray for rain. Among the rest, Lady Trawst, the wife of the governor of Hawarden, prayed so heartily and so long, that the image, grown desperate we suppose, fell down upon the lady and killed her. Mad with rage at this “answer to their prayers,” a jury of the inhabitants was summoned, and the Holy Rood summarily convicted of wilful murder and other heinous sins. Fearful, however, of the consequences if they executed the offender, the jury determined to lay her upon the beach at low water; whence the next tide carried her away to the spot where she was found, under the Walls of Chester. The citizens held a post-mortem examination, and seeing that she was Holy Rood, decided on burying her where she was found, and erected over her a simple stone Cross, which, tradition says, once bore an inscription to the following effect:

The Jews their God did crucify,
The Hardeners theirs did drown:
Because their wants she’d not supply,—
And she lies under this cold stone.

Another version affirms she was carried to St. John’s Church, and there set up in great pomp, and that this Cross was erected on the spot where she was found.

So much for the legend: yonder is the remnant of the Cross under which her holiness was laid; and as

Little she’ll reck, if they’ll let her sleep on,
We will leave her alone in her glory.

The spot now marks the boundary of St. Mary’s parish. The athletic sports and Olympian games of the Romans, the military displays of the Edwards and Henries, the pageants and plays of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, were each in their day “set forth” on the Roodeye before hundreds of wondering and admiring citizens. And it is pretty much the same “even in this our day;” for martial reviews and rejoicings, cricket and other athletic games are all celebrated and fostered on its rich green sward.

Why, it was only the other day, on the 2nd of April, 1856, that the rank and beauty of the county (and that beauty does reign dominant in Cheshire all the world knows) assembled on the Roodeye to witness a grand and exciting ceremonial. For two years war had been convulsing Europe; Turkey the weak had been marked out for a prey by Russia the strong; the Eagle of the North would have trampled on the Crescent, and have blotted out its name from the catalogue of nations. But the British lion looked on from afar,—the champion of the weak girded on its ancient strength,—and with the aid of France, once its enemy, but now a gallant ally, went forth to the rescue. The result is patent to the world. In two short years the pride of the despot has been humbled, and the freedom of his almost victim assured, while Peace once again spreads its mantle over the earth. The militia of England formed the nursery at home for the army abroad; and the militia of Cheshire in particular responded nobly to the repeated demands of their country. No wonder, then, that the Roodeye was so crowded and gay on the occasion in question,—that so many desired to witness the presentation of new banners to the gallant 1st Regiment of Royal Cheshire Militia. The Marchioness of Westminster, as the representative of the Lord Lieutenant, presented the colours, which were first duly consecrated by the amiable Bishop of the diocese. We were present at the ceremony; and, as the ensigns of the regiment received their handsome banners, and unfurled them to the breeze, we felt a glow of pride upon our cheek that the ancient chivalry of Cheshire still animated her loyal sons. England has once more had to learn, and will surely not this time forget the lesson, that “the only way to be certain of peace, is to be at all times amply prepared for war.”

Grand Stand, and Water Gate

But the Roodeye is perhaps chiefly famous for the splendid horse Races which are twice a-year held here; and while the course itself is a perfect amphitheatre, and the spectator’s view of the contests magnificent and unbroken, it is not too much to say, that the fame of Chester Races is a household word with every true lover of old English sports. Our illustration presents to us a view of the handsome Grand Stand, with the Walls and Water Gate on the left; but for a more general view of the entire race-course, we may profitably refer to the frontispiece at the commencement of our Guide. The viaduct on the extreme left is, with the girder-bridge over the Dee, the iron road of communication between England and Ireland; while beyond it, again, lies the “Port of Chester;” as also the Roodeye Gas Works, Workhouse, and last, not least, the iron shipbuilding yard, conducted by Mr. Cram, of this city.

We will now return to the Walls, noticing as we pass through the Water Gate, to the right, the remains of the wall of the Black Friars’ Monastery. Proceeding southward a short distance, we arrive at a field, on the left hand, in which formerly stood the Benedictine Nunnery of St. Mary. Within living memory, portions of this conventual establishment were visible from the Walls, but all traces thereof are now unfortunately obliterated. We have here a pretty close view of the Castle, Savings Bank, and St. Bridget’s Church; but as we have now arrived at the New, or Grosvenor Road, we will approach still nearer, and while surveying and admiring the Castle of the present, ruminate a little on the Castle of past days.

When Chester Castle was first erected, whether during the British, Roman or Saxon occupation, is a problem likely never to be determined. There can be no question, however, that it existed some time previous to the Norman Conquest; for it was the chosen court and camp of Hugh Lupus the Norman, nephew of the Conqueror, and is stated by Camden to have been merely repaired by that powerful baron. On the death of the last Norman Earl, the Castle passed into the hands of the king (Henry III.).

“Henry of Lancaster, (afterwards Henry IV.) having taken up arms against Richard II., in 1399, mustered his army upon the banks of the Dee, under the Walls of Chester, and Sir Piers Legh of Lyme, an adherent of Richard, was beheaded, and his head set upon the top of the highest tower in the Castle. A few days afterwards, the unfortunate Richard and the Earl of Salisbury were brought prisoners to Chester, mounted (says Hall) ‘upon two little nagges, not worth forty francs,’ when the King was delivered ‘to the Duke of Gloucester’s sonne and the Earle of Arundell’s sonne, that loved him but a little, for he had put their fathers to death, who led him strait to the Castell.’

“In 1403, Henry Percy, the renowned Hotspur, visited Chester, on his way to the fatal field of Shrewsbury, and caused proclamation to be made, that King Richard was yet alive, and a prisoner in Chester Castle, where he might be seen.

“Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, wife of the Good Duke Humphrey, was confined for several months in Chester Castle, in 1447, previous to her removal to the Isle of Man, under a sentence of perpetual imprisonment on a charge of ‘practising the King’s death.’

“Here, in 1651, the Puritans ‘sought the Lord’ by trying and condemning to death the gallant and patriotic Earl of Derby, Sir Timothy Featherstonehaugh, and Captain Benbow. According to Whitlocke, the Earl ‘attempted to escape, and was let down by a rope from the leads of his chamber; but some hearing a noise, made after him, and he was re-taken upon Dee bank.’ He was afterwards beheaded at Bolton, while Featherstonehaugh was shot in the market-place of Chester.”

And now for the Castle of the present day. The old structure was removed towards the close of the eighteenth century, and the new one erected from the plans of the late Thomas Harrison, Esq., the architect of the Grosvenor Bridge.

The Grand Entrance occupies the centre of a semicircular fosse, and is of the Grecian Doric order. The whole of the majestic fluted columns of this Gateway and of the Shire Hall, are constructed each, from capital to base, of a single stone. As we pass into the Castle Yard, we have at one view a fine prospect of this noble square.

“The two wings of the Castle, and the whole of the buildings to the right, are appropriated to the military; the centre to the Assize Court and County Gaol. The right wing is the officer’s barracks. There are at present in this Castle, a regiment of militia, and a battalion of artillery. The pensioners’ offices are at the back of the left wing, at one side of which is the Nisi Prius Court, Grand Jury Room, &c.

“The first floor of the new barracks on the higher wards is appropriated to the Armoury, which contains 30,000 stand of arms, and is decorated with various devices, formed solely of weapons of warfare.

“Near these buildings is an old Square Tower, called Julius CÆsar’s, otherwise Julius Agricola’s Tower, in which was situated the Chantry of St. Mary infra Castrum. It was in this Chapel that James II. received Mass during his stay in Chester. This Tower was built soon after the Norman Conquest. There was an ancient fresco painting on the interior walls, the subject of which was Moses receiving the Table of Commandments from the Mount, whilst the Devil in a nondescript form is trying to seize them; in the back-ground are his old friends the Pope, and a group of ecclesiastical personages. This Tower was newly cased with red stone in 1818. The Powder Magazine is at present kept in it.” Close by stood, prior to its demolition, the ancient Shire Hall and Exchequer Court: the latter was the parliament house of the palatinate earls, and had neat carved seats for the earl and his eight barons, spiritual and temporal.

Castle, Shire Hall, and CÆsar’s Tower

“As before stated, the centre buildings contain the Assize Court and City Gaol. In front of the Hall of Justice is a portico, supported by twelve pillars in double rows. The entrances are at the sides of the portico. The interior of the Court is of a semicircular form, forty-four feet high, eighty feet diameter, and forty-four feet wide. Round the semicircle is a colonnade of twelve Ionic pillars, supporting a semi-dome, divided into four square compartments, richly embellished. The tout ensemble is grand and imposing, and admirably adapted to give a majestic appearance to a judicial court.

“Behind this building is the Constable’s residence, a terrace in front of which commands a view of the Chapel, and Felons’ Yards below, five in number. The Debtors’ Yards form quadrangles on the right and left of the Constable’s house, on a level with the Castle Yard.”

The Churches of St. Mary, and St. Bridget, are both within a stone’s throw; but we must leave them for the present, and continue our interesting “Walk round the Walls.” In a few minutes we arrive at the angle of the Walls, where the massive ramparts of the Castle frown majestically above us, while below, the classic waters of the Dee flow languidly on, regardless of yon noble and magnificent stone Bridge, which, with its unequalled single arch of 200 feet span, crosses the river a short distance away from us. This is the Grosvenor Bridge, finished in 1832, at a cost of 30,000l. and formally opened in October of that year, by Her present Most Gracious Majesty, then Princess Victoria. It has the reputation of being the largest stone arch in the world. Immediately to the left of the Bridge is the Cemetery, of which more hereafter.

Again we pass onwards, having on our left the higher wards of the Castle, Julius CÆsar’s Tower, and the lofty boundary wall of the new County Gaol. CÆsar’s Tower (so called) has of late years been converted into a powder magazine, and may, some day or other, make itself both heard and felt by the citizens, unless they procure the removal of the magazine to some more distant and fitting locality.

Still onwards, by the side of the Dee, and we approach the Old Dee Bridge and Mills, having on the opposite shore the suburb of Handbridge, called by the Welsh Treboeth, or burnt town, from its having been so often razed to the ground during their predatory incursions. Yonder is Edgar’s Field, so called from the palace of that Saxon monarch having been traditionally situate there. In this field is a projecting rock, partially excavated, still bearing the name of Edgar’s Cave; and the tradition is that, in 971, that monarch was rowed from thence to St. John’s Church by six petty kings or princes, in token of their subjection to his rule. At the entrance of the cave is a rude sculpture, supposed to represent Minerva, accompanied by her usual symbol, the owl.

Where we are now standing was, fifty years ago, an ancient postern, called the Shipgate, or Sheepgate, from which went a ford across the river into Handbridge. The gate itself, of Roman construction, on being taken down, was carefully preserved, and now ornaments the garden of the present town clerk, J. Finchett-Maddock, Esq., in Abbey Square.

A few steps further will bring us to the South or Bridge Gate, the last of the four principal Gates of the city. It is a bold and imposing structure, erected, in 1782, at the expense of the corporation, in place of the old and ponderous gateway which previously occupied its site. The old Gate is quoted in deeds as far back as the twelfth century, and appears to have been granted by the Norman Earl Randle and his Countess to one Poyns, their servant, for some meritorious but unrecorded service. From his successors it passed, through Philip le Clerc, to the families of Raby, Norris, and Troutbeck, until the honour of “custodian of the Bridge Gate” became vested at length in the Earls of Shrewsbury, who, in the seventeenth century, sold their rights to the Corporation.

Crossing over the Bridge Gate, we have now a better view of the Dee Mills, a massive pile of buildings, resting on the south-west end of the Old Bridge. The Dee Mills existed on this very spot shortly after the Norman Conquest, and were for centuries a source of immense revenue to their owners, the Earls. Edward the Black Prince, as Earl of Chester, granted them for life to Sir Howel-y-Fwyal, constable of Criccaeth Castle, for his gallant conduct at the Battle of Poictiers; since which time they have passed through successive owners to the Wrench family, who are the present possessors. The Mills have been thrice destroyed by fire.

The Dee Bridge is of great antiquity, having been erected in 1280 by the citizens, under a peremptory order to that effect from King Edward I. Previous to that date there had been a wooden bridge here, originating with that amazonian “edifier” of Chester, the Mercian Princess Ethelfleda; but that passage was continually subject to interruptions, both from the violence of the tides, and the restless zeal of the Welshmen,—hence the erection of the present Bridge. It consists at present of seven arches of irregular size, but is said to have originally boasted of two or three more, now built up. It was widened in 1826, by the addition of a projecting footpath, seven feet wide, which has somewhat destroyed its antiquated appearance from this point of view.

The Causeway, or weir, on this side the Bridge, is recorded to have been first built by Hugh Lupus, the Conqueror’s nephew, probably about the time of the foundation of the Dee Mills. It stemmed the tide of the Dee, and of all opposition, until the period of the Commonwealth, when we find an order of parliament commanding the destruction of both Causeway and Mills; but the puritanical order appears to have been derisively set at nought; at all events, it was never carried out. An American author, writing upon this topic, facetiously remarks:—“The dam was built, I don’t know when. The Puritans, they say, tried to destroy it—for its bad name, perhaps—but could not, because, like a duck, it kept under a high flood of water, until the Cavaliers, making a rush to save it, spiked their guns.”

Wending our way to the eastward, we have before us a long and interesting stretch of the meandering Dee, crossed at some distance away by a chaste, yet gossamer-looking bridge, erected in 1852, by Enoch Gerrard, Esq., the projector and proprietor of Queen’s Park, that beautiful range of building land on the opposite side of the river. Those steps on the right, leading down to the river side, are usually known as the Recorder’s Steps, from their having been erected in 1700, for the accommodation of Roger Comberbach, Esq., then Recorder of Chester.

The Walls here run at a great height above the roadway, until we turn quick round to the northward, at a lofty flight of steps, called the Wishing Steps. And why the Wishing Steps, you ask? Listen, and you shall hear. There’s a small bit of “folk lore” bound up with these Steps, and we never pass by them without recalling to mind our boyhood’s attempts to master the difficulty. We were always told when a child, and we heartily believe it as a man, that whosoever shall stand at the foot of these steps, and wish for any mundane blessing—be it the gold of Ophir, aye, or even Paradise itself—and (mind this!) run up to the head, down to the bottom, and up again to the top of these steps, without taking breath, shall have his fondest wish fulfilled, though it were to the half of the kingdom! The secret is, that no one could possibly accomplish the feat without taking breath some half dozen times.

From the top of the Wishing Steps we have a beautiful prospect of the banks of the Dee, and of the south-eastern environs of the city. From an altitude of some sixty feet, we see beneath us the stream of Deva in all but repose, for above the Causeway the River assumes almost the smoothness of a lake. The iron Suspension Bridge, which crosses it midway, and unites the city with its handsome suburb, Queen’s Park, forms a pretty object in the landscape. Though of such spider-like construction, its capabilities and strength have been fully tested. Mr. Dredge, upon whose patent principle the bridge was erected, thus describes it:—“The Queen’s Park Bridge is 262 feet span, and 417 long, resting upon massive block masonry (about 3000 cubical feet), which is all below the surface as foundation, and upon it, on each side of the river, is a cluster of four cast-iron pillars, about 33 feet high. The bridge is 23 feet above the ordinary level of the river, and altogether it consists of about 50 tons of iron, the whole of which was wrought on the ground, and the bridge finished in about three months. Its cost was 850l.” When Mr. Gerrard first projected the Queen’s Park, he saw at once the necessity of providing a shorter and better pathway to the city than the old route through Handbridge, and the erection of Queen’s Park Suspension Bridge was therefore the starting point of his building operations. Nor has the result belied his confident anticipations of the popularity of the Park; for what was, but a year or two ago, a modest agricultural farm, is now fast developing into an important and delightful suburb. In fact, the salubrity of the air, and the high commanding situation of Queen’s Park, together with its beautiful river scenery, and its close proximity to the city, combine to render it peculiarly suitable for villa residences.

Queen’s Park and River, from the Wishing Steps

To our left are some handsome houses, overlooking the river; and behind them, the lofty steeple of St. John’s Church attracts our especial notice and admiration. This Church is one of our many Chester lions; but, as we shall have to deal with it more at large by and bye, we will pass on now, between some obtrusive houses blocking up the view on one side, and most prolific gardens and orchards on the other, until we reach some modern steps on our left, leading down to the Newgate.

This Gate, or its predecessor, was called Wolfeld or Wolfgate, as also Pepper Gate, from its standing at the bottom of the Pepper Street. Tradition informs us that this Gate was “of old time closed up and shut, because a young man stole away a Mayor of Chester’s daughter through the same Gate, as she was playing at ball with other maidens in the Pepper Street.” Albert Smith, in his “Struggles and Adventures of Christopher Tadpole,” perpetuates this tradition, in his own happy and humorous style. There ‘all who run may read’ of the sinful conduct of that wicked young man, and of that almost as froward and faulty young maiden, whose mutual frailties gave birth to the Cheshire proverb, “When the daughter is stolen, shut the Pepper Gate,”—another version of “When the steed is stolen, lock the stable door.”

Two or three paces onwards bring us to some pretty little gardens on one side, and on the other to the remains of an old turret, formerly known as Thimbleby’s Tower, though why or wherefore so designated is, ‘in these latter days,’ a mystery. Beyond this is a flight of steps, leading down to the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel, a commodious structure erected in 1811, the principal front of which is towards St. John’s Street; to the left of it is the School-room of the same religious community. Within a short distance from this, we mount some half dozen steps, and find ourselves on the top of the East Gate, and enjoying a view of the principal Street of the city, at an altitude of some forty feet. At our back is Foregate Street, the old-fashioned mail-coach road to Birmingham and London; while in front we have Eastgate Street, the Cross, and St. Peter’s Church, which will receive more particular attention in our next chapter.

Stepping down from the Eastgate on its opposite side, we have now completed our circuit of the Walls; and our appetite being somewhat sharpened by our long walk, we will turn into the “Blossoms,” and discuss the merits of such “savoury meats” as “mine host of that ilk” is enabled to lay before us.