A Good Deal Is Said About The Norman Style Of Arch And The Saxon Style
Of Arch Found In Old Buildings.
I am convinced that the arches of Green
Castle, and its architecture generally, had been formed on the pattern
of the rocks at Port-a-dorus and the other heaps along the coast.
The
same massiveness, the same wedge-like stones piled together to form
arches prevail in both.
Seaward the castle sits on a steep rock, like the rock on which Quebec
sits for height, but cleaner scarped, and more inaccessible I should
think. To stand on the shore and look up, the castle seems perched on a
dizzy height, its ruined battlements and broken towers rising up into
the sky. The pretty green ivy forms a kindly hap and a garment of
beauty, both for rock and ruin. Long live the ivy green.
There is a clean, smooth new fort standing beside the ruined old castle
like a prosperous, solid, closely-shaven, modern gentleman beside
dilapidated nobility. Its fat, broad tower looks strong enough and solid
enough and grim enough for anything. Inside of the fort everything is
clean, regular and orderly, as becomes a place under the care of British
soldiers. The house, or quarters I suppose they should be called, are
clean and bright, whitewashed (I almost said pipe-clayed), to the
highest point of perfection. There are fortifications above
fortifications here, and plenty of cannon pointed at an imaginary foe.
There are cannon balls in scientific heaps waiting to be despatched on
errands of destruction. Long may they wait.
I saw the outside of the magazine, cased over with so many feet - oh, a
great number - of solid masonry, padded over that with a great many feet
of earth, containing a fabulous amount of powder - tons and tons of it.
Saw also the slippers which the worshippers of Mars put upon their
martial feet when they enter into his temple - slippers without a
suspicion of shod, hob nail or sparable, with which the heels of the
worshippers of Ceres in this country are armed. If any one of these
intruded on this domain sacred to Mars, he would in his indignation gift
them with the feathered heels of Mercury and send them off with an
abrupt message for the stars.
Had a great desire to go up to the top of the great tower and see what
could be seen from it. I was informed, delicately, that in these
disturbed times it was not thought best to admit strangers. The lonely
martello tower on the opposite sands was pointed out to me, sitting
mistress of desolations in the shadow of the rocks of MacGilligan. I was
informed of the money's worth of pile work, thousands upon thousands of
pounds sterling, on which this ugly and useless tower is sitting. As I
walked around the outside of the fort landward and seaward, I think it
quite possible to take it. I make this spiteful remark because I did not
get into the tower.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 40 of 208
Words from 19997 to 20504
of 107283
