with its “well-known massive grey square tower,” in which, we may
remember, the respected _Mr. John Jasper_ was engaged as Lay Precentor;
with the reputation of being devoted to his art, and “having done such
wonders with the choir.” In the interior, on the wall of the south-west
transept, is a quaint monument to the memory of _Richard Watts_, a
prominent townsman to whom further reference will be made. Underneath
this is placed a brass memorial-tablet, inscribed—
“CHARLES DICKENS.—Born at Portsmouth, seventh of February 1812. Died
at Gadshill Place, by Rochester, ninth of June 1870. Buried in
Westminster Abbey. To connect his memory with the scenes in which
his earliest and his latest years were passed, and with the
associations of Rochester Cathedral and its neighbourhood, which
extended over all his life, this tablet, with the sanction of the
Dean and Chapter, is placed by his executors.”
The author’s latest suggestive sketch, in association with this ancient
fane, may be here suitably recalled:—
“A brilliant morning shines on the old city. Its antiquities and
ruins are surpassingly beautiful, with the lusty ivy gleaming in the
sun, and the rich trees waving in the balmy air. Changes of glorious
light from moving boughs, songs of birds, scents from gardens, woods,
and fields—or, rather, from the one great garden of the whole
cultivated island in its yielding time—penetrate into the Cathedral,
subdue its earthy odour, and preach the Resurrection and the Life.
The cold stone tombs of centuries ago grow warm; and flecks of
brightness dart into the sternest marble corners of the building,
fluttering there like wings.”
The Crypts below contain the “buried magnates of ancient time and high
degree,” with whom Durdles, the stonemason, was on terms of intimate
familiarity—
“In the demolition of impedimental fragments of wall, buttress, and
pavement he has seen strange sights. . . . Thus he will say,
‘Durdles come upon the old chap, by striking right into the coffin
with his pick. The old chap gave Durdles a look with his open eyes,
as much as to say, Is your name Durdles? Why, my man, I’ve been
waiting for you a Devil of a time!’ And then he turned to powder.
With a two-foot rule always in his pocket, and a mason’s hammer all
but always in his hand, Durdles goes continually sounding, and
tapping all about and about the Cathedral; and whenever he says to
Tope, ‘Tope, here’s another old ’un in here,’ Tope announces it to
the Dean as an established discovery.”
It is believed that the prototype of this character was an old German
working stonemason, who lived at Rochester many years since. He employed
himself by carving various grotesque figures out of odd fragments of soft
stone found in the Cathedral crypt, which he begged for the purpose; and
it is recollected that he was accustomed to carry these articles of
_vertu_ about the town, tied up in a coloured handkerchief; also that,
whenever he succeeded in effecting a sale, he immediately celebrated the
transaction by getting very tipsy. He lodged at a public-house named
“The Fortune of War,” now known as “_The Lifeboat_.”
Chapter 12, headed “A Night with Durdles,” contains a description of the
ascent of the Cathedral Tower, to the following effect:—
“They go up the winding staircase . . . among the cobwebs and the
dust. Twice or thrice they emerge into level low-arched galleries,
whence they can look down into the moonlight nave. . . Anon they
turn into narrower and steeper staircases, and the night air begins
to blow upon them, and the chirp of some startled jackdaw or
frightened rook precedes the heavy beating of wings in a confined
space, and the beating down of dust and straws upon their heads. At
last, leaving their light behind a stair—for it blows fresh up
here—they look down on Cloisterham, fair to see in the moonlight: its
ruined habitations and sanctuaries of the dead, at the tower’s base:
its moss-softened red-tiled roofs and red-brick houses of the living,
clustered beyond: its river winding down from the mist on the
horizon, as though that were its source, and already heaving with a
restless knowledge of its approach towards the sea.”
Before leaving the Cathedral precincts, on the north side we soon pass
St. Nicholas Church, and may note its pleasant little graveyard—“where
daisies blossom on the verdant sod”—lying near the old walls of the
Castle and its contiguous gardens. It is said that this is the spot
which Dickens himself would have preferred as his last resting-place.
We now approach the High Street by The College Gate (facing _Pump Lane_),
an old gatehouse with archway, having two exterior doors, standing
angle-wise in the street, with a small postern at the back of the gate.
The house, now occupied by the assistant verger, is a gabled wooden
structure of two storeys, built over the stone gateway beneath. Students
of Dickens will remember that this was the residence of _Mr. Tope_,
“chief verger and showman” of the Cathedral, with whom lodged Mr. John
Jasper, the uncle of Edwin Drood. It is first referred to in the 2nd
chapter of the book: “an old stone gatehouse crossing the Close, with an
arched thoroughfare passing beneath it,” decorated by “pendant masses of
ivy and creeper covering the building’s front.” Here Mr. Jasper
entertained his nephew and his nephew’s friend; and we also read of _Mr.
Grewgious_ climbing “the postern stair.” On this latter occasion the old
lawyer called on Mr. Jasper, visiting Cloisterham in preparation for
their formal release as trustees on Edwin’s attaining his majority.
Turning to the right, on the opposite side of the High Street, we soon
reach a stone-fronted edifice, with small windows and three gables, known
as The Poor Travellers’ House. This charity was established 1579, by a
local philanthropist, RICHARD WATTS, formerly citizen of Rochester, who
rose from a humble position to be Member of Parliament for the City. He
entertained Queen Elizabeth at his mansion (in 1573), a white house
situated near the Castle gardens, and called _Satis House_. It will be
recollected that Dickens transferred this name to Restoration House,
situated in Crow Lane. It is said that the appellation was bestowed on
the mansion by the virgin queen herself, in recognition of the
“satisfactory” entertainment afforded by her host. _Estella_ gives
another explanation of the title: “It meant, when it was given, that
whoever had this house could want nothing else. They must have been
easily satisfied.”
Watts’s Charity, the Travellers’ Rest aforesaid, is associated with the
Christmas Number of _Household Words_ (1854), entitled “THE SEVEN POOR
TRAVELLERS;” in which the inscription over the quaint old door is
reproduced as follows:—
RICHARD WATTS, ESQ.,
by his will dated 22 August 1579,
founded this charity
for six poor travellers,
Who not being Rogues, or Proctors
may receive gratis for one night,
Lodging, Entertainment,
and four-pence each.
The entertainment herein specified comprises for each traveller, a supper
of half a pound of freshly-cooked meat, one pound of bread, and a
half-pint of beer, which is given in addition to the stated fourpence
payable in the morning.
[This gentleman’s memory is also perpetuated in the charitable annals of
the district by a handsome pile of buildings, in the Elizabethan style,
on the Maidstone Road, called WATTS’S ALMSHOUSES—with pleasure-grounds in
front, affording accommodation for ten men and ten women, who also
receive twelve shillings each per week. The Institution is superintended
by a matron and governed by sixteen trustees.]
We are doubtless familiar with the Christmas Eve entertainment here
provided by the narrator of “The Seven Poor Travellers,” as above:—
“It was settled that at nine o’clock that night a Turkey and a piece
of Roast Beef should smoke upon the board, and that I, faint and
unworthy minister for once of Master Richard Watts, should preside as
the Christmas-supper host of the six Poor Travellers.”
And we must all have a vivid recollection of the processional order of
supply on that festive opportunity:—
“Myself with the pitcher.
Ben with Beer.
Inattentive Boy with hot Inattentive Boy with hot
plates. plates.
THE TURKEY.
Female carrying sauces to be heated on the spot.
THE BEEF.
Man with Tray on his head, containing Vegetables and
Sundries.
Volunteer Hostler from Hotel, grinning,
and rendering no assistance.”
After hearty discussion of the orthodox plum-pudding and mince-pies which
crowned the feast, the company drew round the fire, and the “brown
beauty” of the host—the pitcher, carried first in the procession—was
elevated to the table. It proved to be “a glorious jorum” of hot
Wassail, prepared from the chairman’s special and private receipt, the
materials of which, “together with their proportions and combinations,”
he declines to impart. Glasses being filled therefrom, the toast of the
evening was duly and reverently honoured: “CHRISTMAS! CHRISTMAS EVE, my
friends; when the Shepherds, who were poor travellers too, in their way,
heard the angels sing, ‘On earth peace. Goodwill toward men!’”
The pen of the “Inimitable” was never in more genial feather than when
inditing this Christmas story, the cheery and sympathetic humour of which
is not excelled even by the “Carol” itself.
Another Dickensian association with this Rochester Charity may be quoted
in connection with Miss Adelaide Procter. During ’54 this lady had been
a valued contributor to _Household Words_, under the assumed name of
“Berwick,” and some speculation arose in the editorial department as to
the real personality of the writer. The _nom de plume_ being, in course
of time, relinquished, and the secret told, Mr. Dickens sent a letter of
congratulation and appreciation to the young authoress—dated December
17th, 1854—which thus concluded: “Pray accept the blessing and
forgiveness of Richard Watts, though I am afraid you come under _both his
conditions of exclusion_.”
Retracing the High Street route, we again pass the Gate-house of the
Cathedral Close, and come, immediately on the left, to the noted Bull
Hotel, a commodious establishment of ancient and respectable repute, and
the principal posting-house of the town. This is the celebrated hostelry
at which the Pickwickians sojourned on the occasion of their first visit
to Rochester, per “Commodore” coach from London. In the large
assembly-room upstairs—“a long room, with crimson-covered benches, and
wax candles in glass chandeliers, with the musicians securely confined in
an elevated den”—the memorable Ball took place, on the evening of their
arrival, which was attended by _Mr. Tupman_ and his seductive friend
_Jingle_; the latter affording some information as to the exclusive
character of Rochester society:—
“‘Wait a minute,’ said the stranger, ‘fun presently—nobs not come
yet—queer place. Dockyard people of upper rank don’t know Dockyard
people of lower rank. Dockyard people of lower rank don’t know small
gentry—small gentry don’t know tradespeople—Commissioner don’t know
anybody.’”
Here Mr. Jingle, on that fateful occasion, gave dire offence to Doctor
Slammer, of the 97th Regiment, by making himself obtrusively agreeable to
the rich little widow, Mrs. Budger; and we may remember how the Doctor,
with his “hitherto bottled-up indignation effervescing from all parts of
his countenance in a perspiration of passion,” insisted on a hostile
meeting.
The hotel has a frontage of about 90 feet, with wide pillared gateway,
and extensive stabling at the back. Proceeding past the Guildhall on the
right, towards the end of the street, facing Rochester Bridge, we arrive
at The Crown Hotel, pleasantly situated at the corner of the Esplanade
and High Street, one side of the house facing the Medway; a white-brick
edifice lately rebuilt. It is referred to in chapter 18 of “Edwin Drood”
as “_The Crozier_,” the orthodox hotel at which _Mr. Datchery_ took up
his temporary abode, previous to settling in Cloisterham as “a single
buffer—an idle dog who lived upon his means.” Other visitors to
Rochester may advantageously imitate Mr. Datchery’s example, the position
and conduct of the house being alike excellent.
Round the corner to the left, commences The Esplanade, extending under
the castle walls, and along the bank of the river for a considerable
distance. This promenade is mentioned in the 13th chapter of “Edwin
Drood,” being the scene of the last interview between Edwin and Rosa,
when they mutually agreed to cancel the irksome bond between them—
“They walked on by the river. They began to speak of their separate
plans. He would quicken his departure from England, and she would
remain where she was, at least as long as Helena remained. The poor
dear girls should have their disappointment broken to them gently,
and, as the first preliminary, Miss Twinkleton should be confided in
by Rosa, even in advance of the reappearance of Mr. Grewgious. It
should be made clear in all quarters that she and Edwin were the best
of friends. There had never been so serene an understanding between
them since they were first affianced.”
Leaving Rochester by The Bridge, crossing the Medway, we may bestow a
passing thought on _Richard Doubledick_ as he came over the same, “with
half a shoe to his dusty feet,” in the year 1799, limping into the town
of Chatham. (See “The Seven Poor Travellers,” previously mentioned.)
[Picture: Gadshill Place]
On the north side of the river, the Rambler enters the town of _Strood_,
and may proceed through the same, about two miles on the Gravesend Road,
to
GADSHILL PLACE,
the last residence of Charles Dickens. It is situated on the left-hand
side, nearly opposite the _Falstaff Inn_. The house was purchased by him
on the 14th of March 1856, for £1790; and he afterwards projected and
carried out many costly additions and improvements thereto. On the
first-floor landing is displayed an illuminated frame (the work of Mr.
Owen Jones), which reads as follows:—
“THIS HOUSE, GADSHILL PLACE, stands on the summit of Shakespeare’s
Gadshill, ever memorable for its association with Sir John Falstaff in
his noble fancy—‘_But_, _my lads_, _my lads_, _to-morrow morning_, _by
four o’clock_, _early at Gadshill_! _there are pilgrims going to
Canterbury with rich offerings_, _and traders riding to London with fat
purses_: _I have vizards for you all_; _you have horses for
yourselves_.’”
On this residence Dickens had fixed his choice in his boyish days. It
had always held a prominent place amid the recollections connected with
his childhood. Forster says that “upon first seeing it as he came from
Chatham with his father, and looking up at it with admiration, he had
been promised that he might live in it himself, or some such house, when
he came to be a man, if he would only work hard enough.” It is pleasant
to record that this ambition was gratified in after life, when the dream
of his boyhood was realised.
In the contiguous shrubbery was placed a Swiss Chalet, presented to
Dickens by his friend Mr. Fechter, which arrived from Paris in
ninety-four pieces, fitting like the joints of a puzzle. Our author was
fond of working in this chalet during the summer months; and in it, much
of the material of his latest work was prepared.
In sad association with Gadshill Place, we must refer to the unexpected
Death of Charles Dickens, which occurred here on the 9th of June 1870.
He had been feeling weary and fatigued for some days previous to this
date, but had nevertheless continued to work with cheerfulness, writing
in the chalet, in preparation of the sixth number of “Edwin Drood.” On
the 8th of June, whilst at dinner, he was suddenly attacked with
apoplexy, and never spoke afterwards; and on the evening of the following
day—with one rolling tear and one deep sigh—his gentle spirit soared
beyond these earthly shadows,
“Into the Land of the Great Departed,
Into the Silent Land.”
An interval being allowed for refreshments at the Falstaff Inn, _à
discrétion_, we may resume the road onwards to the nearest station of
HIGHAM—about a mile distant—whence the South-Eastern Railway may be taken
for the homeward journey. At five miles’ distance we reach Gravesend,
which is situated at the foot of the hills, extending for some two miles
on the south side of the Thames. This town is the boundary of the port
of London, at which many outward and homeward bound vessels on foreign
service receive or discharge their passengers and freight. As we pass
this station we may remember that in chapter 57 of “David Copperfield,”
Gravesend is referred to as the starting-point of Mr. Peggotty and his
niece, emigrating to Australia, and accompanied by _Martha_, _Mrs.
Gummidge_, _and the Micawber family_. The parting with his friends David
describes as follows:—
“We went over the side into our boat, and lay at a little distance to
see the ship wafted on her course. It was then calm, radiant sunset.
She lay between us and the red light, and every taper line and spar
was visible against the glow. A sight at once so beautiful, so
mournful, and so hopeful, as the glorious ship lying still on the
flushed water, with all the life on board her crowded at the
bulwarks, and there clustering for a moment, bareheaded and silent, I
never saw. Silent, only for a moment. As the sails rose to the
wind, and the ship began to move, there broke from all the boats
three resounding cheers, which those on board took up and echoed
back, and which were echoed and re-echoed . . . Surrounded by the
rosy light . . . they solemnly passed away.”
Continuing the homeward journey by South-Eastern Railway, the Rambler
will arrive in due course at the station of GREENWICH, eighteen miles
from Gravesend. Here alighting, a short walk eastward, on the south side
of the line—through _London Street_, turning right by end of _Church
Street_—will lead us to the entrance of Greenwich Park. This well-known
place of popular resort was referred to by Dickens in his first
contributions to the _Evening Chronicle_, 1835, which were afterwards
collected under the name of “Sketches by Boz.” The sketch is entitled
“_Greenwich Fair_,” and gives descriptions of the doings in the park at
that festival, as holden aforetime in this locality—
“The principal amusement is to drag young ladies up the steep hill
which leads to the Observatory, and then drag them down again at the
very top of their speed, greatly to the derangement of their curls
and bonnet-caps, and much to the edification of lookers-on from
below.”
From the Park entrance we may now proceed towards the river by _Church
Street_, on the left hand of which, past _London Street_, stands the
Church of St. Alphege, a handsome edifice in classic style. The happy
wedding of _Bella Wilfer_ and _John Rokesmith_, otherwise _Harmon_, here
took place, in the presence of a “gruff and glum old pensioner” from the
neighbouring hospital, with two wooden legs. We may also recall the
circumstance of Mr. and Mrs. Boffin’s attendance, that worthy couple
being hid away near the church organ.
Following the route northward, we may soon reach _King William Street_,
by the river side, in which is situated Quartermaine’s Ship Tavern. This
is the place where the “lovely woman” and her father once dined together
on the occasion of their “innocent elopement.” (See “Our Mutual Friend,”
chapter 8, Book 2.) It may be also remembered as the hotel at which was
celebrated the wedding dinner of _Mr. and Mrs. Rokesmith_ aforesaid,
“dear little Pa” being the honoured guest of that blissful opportunity.
We may here also recollect the dignified bearing of the head waiter—The
Archbishop of Greenwich—“a solemn gentleman in black clothes and a white
cravat, who looked much more like a clergyman than _the_ clergyman, and
seemed to have mounted a great deal higher in the church.”
Leaving GREENWICH, a short ride of twenty minutes (six miles), following
the course of the river, will bring us to the CHARING CROSS TERMINUS, in
central London.
RAMBLE VII
Excursion to Canterbury and Dover
Route by London, Chatham and Dover Railway, _viâ_ Sittingbourne and
Faversham to Canterbury; The Queen’s Head Inn, “the little hotel”
patronised by the Micawbers—By Mercery Lane and Christ Church Gate to
Cathedral Close for King’s School, the Establishment at which David
Copperfield was educated—Dr. Strong’s House—The Fleur de Lys Hotel; Mr.
Dick’s stopping-place at Canterbury—The George and Dragon Inn; the old
London Coach Office—Palace Street and Church of St. Alphege; the scene of
Dr. Strong’s marriage to Miss Annie Markleham—No. 65 North Lane, the
“’umble dwelling” of Uriah Heep, afterwards the residence of the Micawber
Family—71 St. Dunstan Street; Mr. Wickfield’s house, and Home of
Agnes—Canterbury to Dover—Corner of Church and Castle Streets, Market
Place; David’s resting-place—Priory Hill, Stanley Mount; Miss Betsy
Trotwood’s Residence—“The King’s Head”; Mr. Lorry, Lucie Manette, and
Miss Pross—The Staplehurst Disaster—Postscript to “Our Mutual Friend.”
The excursion proposed in Ramble VI. to Chatham, Rochester, Gadshill,
etc. (see page 82), could be advantageously extended to include
CANTERBURY and DOVER, for visiting the localities in these towns
associated with the history of David Copperfield.
Beyond Chatham the journey is continued on the LONDON, CHATHAM AND DOVER
RAILWAY, by three minor stations to SITTINGBOURNE, formerly a favourite
resting-place for pilgrims (as its name would seem to indicate) _en
route_ for Canterbury; but the modern mode of travel only now
necessitates a halt of twenty minutes. Passing TEYNSHAM and FAVERSHAM,
the train proceeds by the intermediate station of SELLING, to the fair
old city of
CANTERBURY,
pleasantly situated on the banks of the Stour. Seat of the Primate of
England, where, as Mr. Micawber writes, “the society may be described as
a happy admixture of the agricultural and the clerical.” A quaint and
quiet cathedral town, redolent with fragrant memories of _Agnes
Wickfield_, fairest type of English womanhood—her father, and friends.
Proceeding from the station towards the Cathedral, by CASTLE STREET, we
reach the old Roman road of WATLING STREET (extending from Chester to
Dover), at the south corner of which (right), and facing ST. MARGARET
STREET, stands the “Queen’s Head Inn.” This is “the little hotel”
patronised by Mr. and Mrs. Micawber on the occasion of their first visit
to Canterbury, as related in chapter 17 of “David Copperfield”—“Somebody
turns up.”
“It was a little inn where Mr. Micawber put up, and he occupied a
little room in it, partitioned off from the commercial room, and
strongly flavoured with tobacco smoke. I think it was over the
kitchen, because a warm greasy smell appeared to come up through the
chinks in the floor, and there was a flabby perspiration on the
walls. I know it was near the bar, on account of the smell of
spirits and jingling of glasses. Here, recumbent on a small sofa,
underneath a picture of a race-horse, with her head close to the
fire, and her feet pushing the mustard off the dumb-waiter at the
other end of the room, was Mrs. Micawber, to whom Mr. Micawber
entered first, saying, ‘My dear, allow me to introduce to you a pupil
of Dr. Strong’s.’”
It will be remembered that the amiable lady thus referred to, here
confidentially explained to David the reason of their visit to this part
of the country—
“‘Mr. Micawber was induced to think, on inquiry, that there might be
an opening for a man of his talent in the Medway Coal Trade. Then,
as Mr. Micawber very properly said, the first step to be taken
clearly was to come and see the Medway; which we came and saw. I say
‘we,’ Master Copperfield, ‘for I never will,’ said Mrs. Micawber with
emotion, ‘I never will desert Mr. Micawber. . . . Being so near
here, Mr. Micawber was of opinion that it would be rash not to come
on and see the Cathedral—firstly, on account of its being so well
worth seeing, and our never having seen it; and, secondly, on account
of the great probability of something turning up in a cathedral
town.’”
We may also recollect the dinner and convivial evening thereafter,
celebrated two days later at this address, when David attended as the
honoured guest of the occasion—