As you step out of the railway carriage that has brought you at
leisurely speed to Deal, you cannot help thinking of another arrival
that, at the time, created even more attention on the part of the
inhabitants. You, bent on a visit to the genial Lord Warden of the
Cinque Ports, arrive from landward. JULIUS CAESAR came by sea; And yet,
so narrow is the world, and so recurrent its movements, you both arrive
at the same town!

As you walk down Beach Street, reading the _Commentaries_, which you
have brought down in your coat-tail pocket, you recognise the "plain and
open shore" which CAESAR describes as being reached after passing the
cliffs of Dover. Here he landed, now many years ago, and your host who,
eager for your coming, even now stands on the top of the great round
tower that dominates his castle-home, can look upon the very spot on
which the Conqueror stepped ashore. Presently he takes you to see the
marks of the intrenchment, plainly visible to this day. With heightened
colour and dramatic gesture the belted Earl tells how, on the fourth
night after the arrival of the Roman fleet, that great storm which ever
comes to Britain's aid in such emergencies, arose, wrecking J. CAESAR'S
galleys, and driving them far up the shingly beach.

"What's to be done now?" CAESAR'S quartermaster asked.

"Done?" said J. CAESAR in the colloquial Latin of the day. "Why, haul the
fleet up on to the beach."

So they brought the ships ashore; CAESAR intrenched them within a camp,
and remained there till the weather improved. Your host presses upon
your acceptance a handful of soil from the _tumuli_.

"CAESAR'S foot may have pressed it," he says, as you, with a perhaps
exaggerated appearance of pleasurable interest, pocket the dust, being
careful to turn your pocket inside out as soon as you are beyond sight
of the castle on your homeward way.

As your hansom pulls up abruptly under the shadow of the ancient castle,
you find your further progress stopped by a _fosse_, across which is
haughtily flung a sixteenth-century drawbridge. HENRY THE EIGHTH, in a
rare moment of leisure from domestic affairs, built Walmer Castle for
the defence of the coast. You are much struck with the architectural
design, which resembles in some degree a mass of _blancmange_ turned out
of a mould. Four round lunettes of stone, wearily worked by hands now
cold, stand four-square to all the winds that blow. In the middle is a
great round tower, with a cis