The “Bush” has since been rebuilt, but at Corby Castle, some two miles away, in what was once the “Haunted Room,” there hangs in a frame an interesting pane of glass from one of its windows, inscribed by no less notable a traveller than Hume, the historian, with the satirical verse, reflecting upon the “Bush,” the Cathedral, and Carlisle in general: Here chicks in eggs for breakfast sprawl; Here godless boys God’s glories squall; Here heads of Scotchmen guard the wall, But Corby’s walks atone for all. Sir Walter Scott saw this in 1825, and humorously remarked in a letter to his friend Morritt upon “Hume’s poetical works.” [Sidenote: _A RAILWAY CENTRE_] The reason that made Carlisle in early days the key of military dispositions, and in later times so important a coaching centre, acted even more powerfully in making it the busy centre of many railway systems that it is to-day. Carlisle has ever stood squarely in the way of those who would pass on the west between England and Scotland. To-day, the rival railways all run into one joint station: and there the London and North-Western, the Midland, and their respective allies, the Caledonian, the North British, and the Glasgow and South-Western, after many a Parliamentary battle in the past, compose their differences. The chief coaching-business was ruined thus early, but the branch coaches yet remained, and the last coach—that to Edinburgh by Hawick—did not leave Carlisle on its final journey until August 31st, 1862. Coaching history, however, is as little illustrated in Carlisle by visible remains as the ancient story of the place, for while the “Bush” has been rebuilt, the rival inn, the “Crown and Mitre,” in Castle Street, has declined to the state of a coffee-tavern, and the “Blue Bell,” in Scotch Street, has obviously seen its best days. If you seek frowning gateways, embattled walls, and the like, sufficient to clothe the stirring story of Carlisle, you will be freezing in the cold shade of disappointment, for the streets of Carlisle are wide, many of the houses are modern, and railways are very much to the fore. The Cathedral is obscurely placed, and almost the only picturesque nook is the alley called St. Alban’s Row. Even the old upping-blocks that used to stand so plentifully by the kerbstones for the convenience of horsemen, and were a feature of Carlisle, have disappeared. Only the odd names of the streets and alleys occasionally remain: among them Rickergate, Whippery, and Durham Ox Lane. [Illustration: ST. ALBAN’S ROW.] [Sidenote: _“MERRY” CARLISLE_]