r man and beast. At the accustomed fairs, toll is, to
this time, demanded on all cattle changing owners at the several
outlets, where formerly stood four gates; to wit, Wall-gate, Hall-gate,
Mill-gate, and Standish-gate. Each gate where the toll-bars now stand
was once, in good sooth, a heavy barrier of stout beams, thickly studded
with iron. Through the night they were generally bolted and guarded by a
company of the mayor's halberdiers. An irregular wall encompassed the
town, save on the eastern side, where the river Douglas seemed, in the
eyes of the burghers, to constitute a sufficient defence, a low abbatis
only screening its banks. The walls were covered, or rather uncovered,
by a broad ditch: a bridge of rough-hewn planks, at three of the
entrances before named, allowed a free communication with the suburbs,
except during seasons of hostility, which unhappily were not rare in
those days of rapine and rebellion. Before the Mill-gate a wider and
more substantial structure, mounted on huge wooden props, facilitated a
passage over the river. This edifice could be raised in cases of siege,
effectually separating the inhabitants from their enemies.

The first beams of the sun began to peep through the angles of the
wooden gable fronts, projecting nearly midway across the street,
streaming athwart the frosty air, and giving a beautifully variegated
and picturesque appearance to the grotesque vista bounded by the
Standish-gate.

The stranger paused not; mounting the hill with an alertness and agility
that scarcely seemed compatible with his age and appearance. On arriving
at the gate, his garb was a sufficient passport, without the necessity
of a challenge. Three or four of the guards were loitering and laughing
on a couple of benches built in a sort of arched recess on each side of
the gateway. As the pilgrim passed they became silent, bowing reverently
as he pronounced the accustomed benison.

Outside the barriers, the road lay through an open and uninclosed
country. It was a matter of but slight moment what line of direction the
narrow and uneven pathways might describe, provided their termination
was tolerably accurate; all traffic and intercourse, being necessarily
limited, was mostly carried on through the medium of saddles and
horse-furniture.

The most inaccessible part of a hill was the site generally chosen; the
road ascending and descending in a meandering sort of zig-zig on its
side. Rarely did our timid