The  Tower  of  London  begets  a  set  of  emo-
tions altogether  different  from  those  one  ex-
periences in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  moat
and  ramparts  and  towers  and  walls  and  gates
and  courts  and  prisons  and  stores  of  armory
are  not  things  of  beauty.  The  associations  of
the  place  are  chiefly  those  of  war,  cruelty,
treason,  and  various  crimes,  horrible  execu-
tions, broken  hearts,  and  tears  of  woe.  Most
visitors  rUvSh  to  look  at  the  crown  jewels,  which
are  here  kept  on  exhibition.  Many  linger  in
the  galleries,  where  is  preserved  a  vast  collec-
tion of  ancient  and  medieval  suits  of  armor.
Others  visit  with  mournful  interest  the  prison-
cells  of  the  Beauchamp  Tower,  and  seek  to
decipher  the  inscriptions  on  the  walls  made
by  the  unhappy  victims  of  jealousy  or  justice.
In  the  yard  before  this  tower  a  stone  marks
the  spot  where  Anne  Boleyn,  Catharine  How-
ard, and  Lady  Jane  Grey  were  beheaded.  Close
by  is  the  chapel  and  cemetery  where  the  bodies
of  these  and  other  victims  of  the  block  were


296  RAMBLES  IN  THE  OLD  WORLD,

buried  in  undistinguished  graves.  "There  is
no  sadder  spot  on  earth  than  this  little  ceme-
tery," wrote  Macaulay.  ''Death  is  there  asso-
ciated, not,  as  in  Westminster  Abbey  and  St.
