'In vain that hue and cry it was made, They found none of them, though the country was laid; But this grieved the Cripple both night and by day, That he so unluckily mist of his prey. 'Nine hundred pound this Cripple had got, By begging and thieving--so good was his lot-- "A thousand pound he would make it," he said, "And then he would quite give over his trade." 'But as he (thus) strived his mind to fulfill. In following his actions so lewd and so ill, At last he was taken, the law to suffice, Condemned and hanged at Exeter 'size. 'Which made all men greatly amazed to see, That such an impotent person as he Should venture himself in such actions as they, To rob in such sort upon the hye-way.' On a hill about two miles east of Totnes stand the ruins of Berry Pomeroy, at a little distance almost hidden in the thick woods around them. Vistas of green leaves without end open from the road to the castle, long lines of beeches and oaks stretching out of sight and broken by glades chequered with flickering lights and shadows. On the north and east side of the walls the ground falls away precipitously to a great depth, and a stream runs along the valley beneath. The ruins are covered with ivy, saplings and bushes spread their fresh shoots and sprays among the crumbling stones, and all is open to the sky; but enough remains to show what a noble building Berry Pomeroy must have been. The outer walls of the Castle were built by the Pomeroys--it is thought probable by Henry de Pomeroy, in the reign of King John, though the Castle was granted them by William the Conqueror. A hexagonal tower flanks the gateway on either side. Above it is the guard-room, in which two pillars support circular arches that are in a very perfect condition, and the grooves in the walls for the portcullis may easily be traced. It is usually reported that the Pomeroys' coat of arms is still visible on the gateway, but as the lodge-keeper, who for many years has trimmed the ivy at intervals, has never seen it, it may be that a little imagination has come to the help of mere eyesight. A curtain wall connects the gateway with a tower called St Margaret's Tower, of which merely the shell remains, smothered in overhanging ivy, brambles, long grass, and a tapestry of plants, and beneath the tower is a small, dark dungeon. To the left, across the quadrangle and along the western wall, are a number of rooms more or less imperfect that belonged to the Pomeroys' castle. They lead one into another, and contain enormous fireplaces and chimneys. Opposite the gateway the ruins are much more broken down, in parts hardly more than fragments and tall trees peer over a low wall, the crowning point of a very steep ascent.