The Old Town lies behind the Bund, also on rising ground, on the north of which was a great quarry, and north of that the old Chinese town, the Chinese citadel, the market and the parade ground. On the east side of this hill, behind the Admiralty docks, were the old cathedral and the Viceroy’s Lodge; farther to the north-east lies the large freshwater lake, the overflow from which runs through the Admiralty docks into the harbour. On the west side of this hill there is another stream, and the commercial quarter extended along its banks. The new China town is on the north-east of Signal Hill, and the railway terminus on the south. Around the towns were hill forts; in some places north of the town three lines of elaborately wrought defences. In the old town there was a military road leading to the battery and the hill forts, which served also to connect some of the barracks and stores lying north of the Viceroy’s quarters. With the exception of this road and the Bund, the old town did not possess any properly made thoroughfares. There was no real street or good roadway anywhere in the town; the tracks, unless frozen hard, which was unusual, were just troughs of mud through which horses splashed, and jinrickshas were forced by two men. The soil dries rapidly, there is generally a breeze, and dust clouds are common in summer and winter. Most of the buildings in the Old Town were mean--little better than Chinese dwellings. The greater part of old China town had already been demolished, and it was intended, as the Admiralty works were extended, to absorb the site of the Old Town for government purposes. When war commenced, the Old Town consisted of bungalows, hastily built one-storied houses, go-downs, extemporized stores, and Chinese buildings and houses. The old towns were sombre, dirty and inconvenient. The houses lacked style, the dwellings the ordinary conveniences of a modern abode. Excepting the Viceregal Lodge and the Naval Club there were no buildings possessing any pretensions to sumptuousness in their decorations or furniture; it may be stated without exaggeration that three-fourths of the houses were unfit to live in, and the remainder were made habitable by the genius and unceasing vigilance of the tenants.