Once more, forward!—but only for a few steps; for here we are arrived at another Tower, originally twice its present height, and at one time denominated the _Goblin’s Tower_ (doubtless for some _ghostly_ reason), but of late better known as PEMBERTON’S PARLOUR. Though now semicircular, this was, in all probability, a round or octagonal tower when first erected, having a passage through for pedestrians. Be that as it may, in 1702, being in a ruinous state, a great part of it was taken down, and the remainder repaired. The side towards the Walls was refaced and ornamented with some fine heraldic sculpture; and an inscription, now almost obliterated, proclaimed that in a certain “year of the glorious reign of Queen Anne, divers wide breaches in these Walls were re-built, and other decays therein were repaired; 2000 yards of the pavement were new flagged or paved, and the whole repaired, regulated, and adorned, at the expense of £1000 and upwards. Thomas Hand, Esq., Mayor, 1701. The Right Honourable William, Earl of Derby, Mayor, 1702, who died in his Mayoralty.” [Picture: Pemberton’s Parlour and City Walls] Passing on from ivy-capt _Pemberton’s Parlour_, we see on our left hand, through that refreshing grove of trees, a large and verdant mead, still retaining its ancient name of the _Barrow Field_, or _Lady Barrow’s Hay_. This is the place where the soldiers of old Rome went through their daily military exercises, and where, 1500 years afterwards, great numbers of the citizens who died of the plague were hurriedly interred. We are now upon a flat iron Bridge, and whew! with a rush like that of a tiger from his den, the giant of the nineteenth century—a steam-engine and train—emerge from the dark tunnel which passes under the city, and dash away beneath us, full forty miles an hour, _en route_ to Ireland, by way of Holyhead. The Roman Walls, that resisted so successfully the Roundhead batteries, have in our own times succumbed to the engines of peace, and the railway trains, with their living freight, now career it merrily through two neighbouring apertures in these ancient fortifications. A little farther ahead are some modern steps, leading down to the new BATHS and WASHHOUSES, in which is a capacious swimming-bath, where plebeians may indulge in a plunge for a penny, and where hot and cold shower and vapour baths are at the service of the public on equally reasonable terms. Previous to the erection of these Baths, the only means of egress from the city at this point was by an ancient postern underneath us, now blocked up.