which, being in a very dilapidated state, was removed as a nuisance in 1770. An outwork, in connection with this gate, was raised previous to the siege of Chester in 1643. This outwork, consisting of a mud wall, fortified with mounts and bastions, joined the City Wall at the New Tower, from whence it stretched out to the north-east so far as to take in Upper Northgate-street; then running eastward, encompassed all the suburbs on the north of Foregate-street, until it approached Boughton, when it turned southward, and proceeded in that direction across Foregate-street at the Bars Gate, down Dee-lane, at the bottom of which its course was terminated by the river. This outwork withstood a violent assault by the Puritans under Sir William Brereton, on the 18th July, 1643, wherein the assailants were forced to retire with great loss; but on the 19th of September, 1645, it was surprised and carried by a night assault of the enemy, under the command of General Louthian, and was afterwards occupied by the Puritans as a circumvallation, while prosecuting the siege of the city. “In perusing the foregoing sketch of our Walls, with the incidental notices of contiguous objects, it is presumed, that individuals most conversant with the localities of the city, will meet with several particulars, either to gratify their curiosity or add to their information. And it may also be hoped, that should the account be read by those who are strangers to our ancient fortifications, and the peculiar attractions of Chester, it may excite a commendable inquisitiveness for a personal survey, at the same time that it may assist as a directory to their inquiries. In whatever point of view these old ramparts are considered, they possess an imposing interest, and confer incalculable benefits. To the invalid, the sedentary student, or the man of business, occupied during the day in his shop or counting-house; to the habitually indolent, who require excitement to necessary exercise—to all these, the promenade on Chester Walls has most inviting attractions, where they may breathe all the salubrious winds of heaven in a morning or an evening walk. Here the enthusiastic antiquarian, who would climb mountains, ford rivers, explore the bowels of the earth, and, regardless of toil and the claims of nature, exhaust his strength in search of a piece of rusty cankered brass, or a scrap of Roman earthenware, can scarcely advance a dozen paces but the pavement on which he treads, or some contiguous object, forces upon his observation the relics of times of earliest date. Nor can the philosophic moralist encompass our venerable walls without having his mind, comparing the splendid and gigantic works of antiquity with their present condition, strongly impressed with the mutations produced by the lapse of ages, and the perishing nature of all mundane greatness.