Hotspur, and all that now stand are built at a more recent date than the battle of Shrewsbury. The street here shown is among the most perfect examples of ancient English streets yet remaining; perhaps it is the most perfect. It takes a sudden turn at right angles in the middle, and joins a street running in a different direction, the High Street as it is called. The houses in this remarkable street are high, and in excellent preservation, though most of the carved work of the interiors has been removed. The curious projecting gable here shown is an example of many other similar ones in the vicinity. For a considerable distance a person walking down the middle of the street can touch the houses on either side. We only notice such singular economy of room in walled cities and towns, for, as has before been remarked, the liberality of space in villages contributes greatly to their beauty. Each end of this street, which is called Double Butcher Row, is here given. [Illustration: OLD HOUSES.] The spire on the left of the picture is St. Mary’s, and that on the right is St. Alkmond’s. The latter church was originally built by a daughter of King Alfred’s. The carving on the exterior of the houses in this street is as perfect as it was when originally placed in its present position. The entrance from Pride Hill is surrounded by many quaint gabled tenements with carved beams and projecting wood-work. [Illustration: SHREWSBURY.] Henry IV. reached Shrewsbury a few hours before Hotspur on the 19th of July 1403, and burned down the houses on the road as before said. This road was rebuilt shortly after, and many of the houses are still standing which date back to that period: a block of them is here shown. The Haughmond hills rise clearly and sharply above them, and are wooded up to the summits. When the sun rises red over them, and especially if this is accompanied with a noise of wind, it is a certain sign of a stormy day. It is impossible not to remark the exceeding accuracy of Shakespeare in his intensely picturesque description of the battle of Shrewsbury. [Illustration: ON BATTLEFIELD ROAD, SHREWSBURY.] Henry IV., speaking to his son Harry in the camp, says-- How bloodily the sun begins to peer Above yon bosky[1] hill, the day looks pale At his distemperature. _Prince Henry._ The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes; And by the hollow whistling in the leaves Foretells a tempest and a blustering day. Another circumstance may be noticed here, though it hardly belongs to the present work, but it illustrates the ready way in which Shakespeare took advantage of any incidents that met his eye. In the fruitless interview between Earl Worcester and the King, the former says-- _Worcester._ Hear me, my liege; For mine own part I could be well content, To entertain the lag end of my life With quiet hours: for I do protest I have not sought the day of this dislike.