And now for the first time I saw men living in
houses built of stone from ground to roof, and that was strange to
me. We Saxons cannot abide aught but good timber. Here none of us
had ever come, and still some of the houses built after the Roman
fashion remained, surrounded, it is true, by mud hovels of
yesterday, as one might say, but yet very wonderful to me. Many a
time I had seen the ruined foundations of the like before, but one
does not care to go near them. The wastes our forefathers made of
the old towns they found here, and had no use for, lie deserted,
for they are haunted by all things uncanny, as any one knows. Maybe
that is because the old Roman gods have come back to their old
places, now that the churches are no longer standing.
Through the village we went, and then came to the walls of the
ancient stronghold, and they seemed as if they were but lately
raised, so strong were they and high. The gates were in their
places, and at them was a guard, and through them, for they stood
open, I could see the white walls and flat roof of the house, or
rather palace, which was either that of the Roman governor of the
place, or else had been rebuilt or restored from time to time in
exactly the same wise, so that it stood fair and lordly and fit for
a king's dwelling even yet.
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