The Ingoldsby Country: Literary Landmarks of the "Ingoldsby Legends"Harper, Charles G. (Charles George)
General
The Ingoldsby Country: Literary Landmarks of the "Ingoldsby Legends"
Harper, Charles G. (Charles George)
Ingoldsby, Thomas, 1788-1845. Ingoldsby legends; Kent (England) -- Description and travel
They are just upon a century old. Built solidly, of honest brickwork
through and through, in the days of the Great Terror, no enemy's fire
has ever been directed against them, but several have been used as
targets for the heavy ordnance and high explosives of the modern
gunners of Lydd and Dungeness, and, with a great deal of labour and at
huge expense, at last destroyed. Some few, also, have been undermined
and ruined by the encroachments of the sea. There were originally
seventy-six of these towers, costing from _£_10,000 to _£_20,000
apiece, according to size. The usual size is thirty feet in height,
with a diameter of forty feet at the base, diminishing to thirty at
the top. They are in two storeys, with a bomb-proof roof formerly
surmounted by a cannon mounted on a swivel-carriage. The walls vary
from a thickness of nine feet on the seaward side to six on the
landward, which would not be so greatly exposed to assault. Their name
is said to derive from that circular fort at Martella, in Corsica,
captured only after a long and desperate resistance in the time of
Nelson. It has been left for modern times to thoroughly vindicate
the plan of the military engineers who designed this first line of
defence along an unprotected coast. Fortunately, there has never been
any occasion to put these to the test, and it was not until the same
blockhouse principle was introduced on the veldt in the second Boer
War, that the weary campaign was brought at last to a close.
This tower, standing at the entrance to Dymchurch, behind the famous
Wall, has been put to a whimsical use, for it is in occupation by a
poor family, whose rent of half-a-crown a week, due to the War Office,
is guaranteed by the vicar. A Martello tower makes a squalid home.
Very little light can struggle through the deep and narrow embrasures,
and the interior is grimly suggestive of a mausoleum. The ragged duds
drying from flaunting clothes-lines, the position of the tower planted
in a scrubby waste, with domestic refuse strewed about, and the stark
nakedness of the brick, combine to make an inglorious and repellent
picture.
[Illustration: DYMCHURCH WALL.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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