On entering the great western door between the towers, the magnificence of the abbey at once strikes the beholder with reverential awe. Nearly the whole of the interior appears in grand masses of towering Gothic columns of gray marble, connecting the pavement with the roof, and separating the nave from the side aisles. A screen divides the nave from the choir, which is surmounted by a noble organ, while beyond, the eye soars[264] amid graceful columns, tracery, and decorated windows, to the summit of the eastern arch that overlooks the adjacent chapels. The walls on either side display a great profusion of sepulchral monuments, among which are many finely executed pieces of sculpture, and touching memorials of those whose exploits or exertions deserve the notice of posterity. There is probably no building in the world around which cluster so many varied and thrilling associations as the Tower in London. For centuries it had been the theatre of England's bloodiest deeds, and its gray old walls stand as the lasting monument of tyranny, despotism, and death. Every stone in that structure has a history to tell. Centuries have come and gone, whole dynasties disappeared, and yet that old Tower still rises in its strength. It is situated in the east part of the metropolis, and on the north side of the river Thames. Its area measures twelve acres. Its origin has been imputed by some to Julius Cæsar. Still, the generally received opinion is, that the White Tower which is the oldest and principal edifice, owes its beginning to William the Conqueror, about 1076. This noted tower is 96 feet in breadth, 116 in length, and 92 in height. Its walls are 14 feet thick. The mint and menagerie which formerly gave notoriety to the tower, have been removed. The common entrance of the tower is on the west side through four gates, which are daily opened with much form and ceremony. I saw nothing so interesting to me in the tower as the Horse Armory, which is a hundred and fifty feet long, and thirty-three wide, containing a line of equestrian[265] figures, as if in battle array, stretching through the centre. A banner is over the head of each—the ceiling is covered with arms and accoutrements—the walls with armor and figures of ancient warriors. That row of twenty-two horsemen, large as life, armed to the teeth, with helmet and cuirass, and breastplate, and coats of mail, and lances, and swords, and battle-axes, and shields, sitting grim and silent there, is a sight one will not easily forget. They seem ready to charge on the foe, and their attitude and aspect are so fierce, that one almost trembles to walk in front of the steeds. Another object of curiosity is the immense store of fire arms, sufficient to equip one hundred and fifty thousand men, and beautifully arranged for show. Fee for seeing the Armory, sixpence; the Regalia, two shillings and sixpence.