The towers, which were at least a hundred feet high, were seven feet thick at the top, and the thickness gradually increased, down to the foundation. Lowest of all in them were dungeons, under the level of the soil, arched, paved, lined with stone, dripping with perpetual damps, the darkness of which was made visible by means of a narrow slit through the wall, on the side next the ditch. In this fetid den, swarmed newts, toads, rats, and every variety of vermin which haunt confined and gloomy spots. Planks, laid across iron bars fixed in the wall, formed the couch of the captive, and his only bedding, even in the most inclement season, was a little straw. Two doors, each seven inches thick, with enormous locks and bars, closed the entrance to each of these horrible abodes, over which might fitly have been inscribed the terrific line that shone dimly over the gate of hell, “All hope abandon ye who enter here!” Above the dungeons were four stories, each consisting of a single room, with, in some instances, a dark closet scooped out of the wall. All were shut in by ponderous double doors; as were also the staircases. In three of the stories, the rooms, of an irregular octagonal shape, were about twenty feet in diameter, and eighteen in height. In many of the rooms the ceilings were double, with a considerable vacuity between them; the lower one was of lath and plaster, the upper of solid oak. The highest story of all, which was termed la Calotte, was neither so lofty nor so large as the others; it was arched to support the roof and platform, and its curvature prevented its inhabitant from walking in any part but the middle of the room. On the towers and curtains several pieces of cannon were mounted. The light which was thrown into these chambers was broken and imperfect; prospect from them there was none. Each room had only one window; and, independent of the obstacle opposed to sight by the massiveness of the walls, there was another, in the double iron gratings, at the outside and middle, formed of bars as thick as a man’s arm, which closed the narrow aperture. In the lower stories, that there might be no chance of seeing or being seen, the opening was filled half way up with stone and mortar, or with planks fastened to the external grating. Three steps led up to some of the windows, if windows they may be called; in other cases they were level with the floor. A glass casement excluded the wind in the better apartments; the dungeons were left exposed to all the rigour of the elements.