Behind the church lie the cloisters, where one might almost imagine that some beautiful lace had been converted into stone by a magician’s wand, so wonderful is the carving and so delicate the tracery of arch and pillar. CHAPTER IV MORE ABOUT LISBON Still farther up the river, and inland from it, high on one of Lisbon’s many hills, stands the fortress of St. George, another of the very few ancient buildings that escaped destruction in the dreadful earthquake of 1755, when hardly a house remained standing, and over 60,000 people perished. It is a long climb to where the old Moorish fortress stands dominating the town, up long flights of worn, uneven steps, and through narrow twisting streets; but the visitor will be amply repaid by the splendid view of the town and surrounding country which can be obtained from the time-worn battlements of the citadel, to which he is admitted in charge of a private of the “Casadore,” after an interview with the friendly sergeant of the guard. From here he can see the Tagus with its shipping, and the red-roofed, white-walled houses, with here and there an odd one, coloured blue, pink, yellow, or green. From this point, also, he may look down on the two largest _praças_, or squares, of the city--the already-mentioned Praça do Commercio, near the river, and more directly at his feet the Praça de Dom Pedro, so called from the statue of Peter IV., which stands on a high column in the centre. This place is known among the English sailors as “Roly-Poly Square,” on account of the strange way the pavement is laid. It is in curved lines of alternate black and white, and looks most uneven, almost like the waves of the sea, or the ridge and furrow of a ploughed field, and it is quite a surprise in walking across it to find that in reality it is perfectly flat. Still farther from the river is the Avenida da Liberdade, a very wide and shady promenade, planted with palms and other trees. It is the finest part of Lisbon, where smart carriages may be seen driving up and down; and it is the happy haunt of children and nursemaids, not to speak of caracoling cavaliers. Looking round the old fortress, any Englishman would notice the list of battles emblazoned on the barrack walls. They might have been taken from the roll of honour on the Colours of some of our own regiments, and remind one of the time when the Portuguese and English fought shoulder to shoulder throughout the Peninsular War, and Wellington led the allied armies to victory against the soldiers of the great Napoleon. The Portuguese still have a very friendly feeling for England, which was prettily shown one day by the gentleman in charge of the Arsenal Museum, who was kindly showing me a fine collection of old bronze guns. They were of many nations, and after examining them for some time, I asked if there were no English guns among them.