As we ascend the hill the road becomes steeper, and we wind through the remains of the bishop’s palace, which are very grand, now broken into picturesque fragments and shrouded with ivy. The next scene is on the Witham as it runs through Lincoln, and wonderfully picturesque it is. The archway is of great antiquity. There is a strange resemblance to some of the Rotterdam scenes in this, the “vulgar Venice,” as Hood called it, hardly with strict justice, even though there may be a vein of truth in the simile. In Camden’s work, edited by Gough, it is stated that the original magnificence of Lincoln may be gathered from the circumstance that so many Norman doorways and other splendid architectural remains (he says Norman and _Saxon_) are to be found in Lincoln. Every street, he states, contains some, and he says that few private dwellings have not some trace of Norman architecture inside or outside. Certainly this statement is from Camden, but it passes without challenge in Gough’s edition, and Gough died in the year 1809, though then advanced in years. There is a house in Lincoln called John of Gaunt’s Stables, but it is said that it ought more properly to be called his palace, and whether it was his or not seems by some persons to be disputed; one thing, however, is certain, it is an extremely valuable relic, and, though it is in a shocking state of neglect, the rooms may be easily traced. “Fronting the street we have a round archway that immediately arrests attention, a very fine one of the period. The upper storey is gone, that contained the chief apartments; the lower is only lighted by loopholes, as usual; we pass under the archway, and in its sullen shade dungeon-like portals appear on each side. But the archway admits us to a quadrangle or square court, round the sides of which are hidden, as it were, the stables, a sort of long, low, vaulted, and pillared hall, and the various offices, all of a gloomy confined character, that belonged to such an establishment. It has been thought that the idea of such specimens of domestic architecture might be improved in our palaces, that of concealing all the miscellaneous rooms round enclosed courtyards, and placing the principal apartments connectedly on one grand storey over the ground-floor, and thus the custom, originally prompted by danger, might be made, with modification, to promote harmony and convenience.” The account just quoted says, “Another feature in the Norman residences was the movable staircase on the outside of the house.” This is even yet continued in some of the old farms in Cheshire. I have seen the labourers go to their loft to sleep, and the farmer remove the staircase regularly each night. Surely the necessity for such a precaution has long passed away, as now labourers may rest as securely in any part of England as if they were in barracks. This custom, however, I have repeatedly seen, certainly within the last twenty years.