pendence, and in the course of a few years became the most important seaport between the Thames and the Humber. Henry III. granted to the burgesses of Yarmouth leave and licence to fortify the town with a wall and moat; but the walls were not finished for a century afterwards. When completed, they inclosed a space of 2238 yards, running southwards from the north-east wall of St. Nicholas’ churchyard. The town had, in all, ten gates and sixteen towers. Its walls were surrounded by a deep moat, and the bridges at each gate were kept most carefully with watch and ward. The eastern wall, of course, was then close to the sea; though now, owing to the receding of the waves, there is a space of more than a quarter of a mile between that line of walls and the sea. In the intervening space stands the modern town of Yarmouth, with its noble marine drive of a mile and a half in length.
The town, thus fortified, was deemed proof against all assailants with bows and arrows, battering-rams, and the other engines of attack then known; but when gunpowder was discovered, it was rightly judged that the walls would not hold out against a siege without several additional outworks:
Old Tower, standing in 1863.
After the alarm of the Spanish Armada had passed away, the burgesses of Yarmouth raised a large mound of earth outside the southern gate, to command the river and the South Denes, and crowned it with large pieces of ordnance, at a cost of £125; the place is still known as the South Mount. It was by this southern gate that William III. entered, when he landed at Yarmouth in 1692, when he was sumptuously entertained by the municipal authorities. We will not specify the various charters which, from time to time, have been granted to the “ancient borough,” beyond mentioning that Charles II. superseded by a mayor the two bailiffs who had previously ruled jointly, and reduced the numbers of the aldermen and councillors. It appears, however, that the good people of Yarmouth did not much like being thus shorn of their second chief magistrate, and, partly in the spirit of discontent, and partly for purposes of real practical use, elected annually a “water bailiff,” who exercised on the bench a summary jurisdiction in disputes relating to the fisheries, though not, of course, in the king’s name. This popular election, however, came to an end on the passing of the Municipal Reform Bill of 1836.
The town of Great Yarmouth is built for the most part in little narrow lanes, or “rows,” as they are called, 156 in number, which run eastwards from the quays towards the sea. Very many of these “rows” have a most foreign aspect. They are mostly unpaved, and so narrow that common waggons and carts cannot go up or down them: but the people use instead a curious vehicle, called a Yarmouth cart, consisting of a narrow frame, of which the front part constitutes the shafts and the hinder part rests upon a single pair of wheels.
Along the South quay stand some handsome mansions of the merchant princes of Yarmouth, bearing testimony to the wealth of the town a century or two ago. One of these, formerly the residence of Ireton or Bradshaw, but now occupied by Mr. Charles J. Palmer, presents a specimen of very magnificent oak carving in the interior, and has a special interest on account of its large drawing-room having been the room in which the execution of King Charles I. was resolved upon. It has lately been restored to its original condition; and we much wish that it had been possible to add to this paper an illustration, giving a view of it in its present state. Mr. Palmer is well known as an antiquary