ROCHESTER CASTLE.
"I took up my hat, and went out, climbed to the
top of the old Castle, and looked over the windy
hills that slope down to the Medway."--_The Seven
Poor Travellers._
TO the lover of Dickens, both the Castle and Cathedral of Rochester
appeal with almost equal interest. The Castle, however, which stands on
an eminence on the right bank of the river Medway, close to the bridge,
claims prior attention, and a few lines must therefore be devoted to an
epitome of its history in the ante-Pickwickian days.
Tradition says that the first castle was erected by command of Julius
Caesar, when Cassivelaunus was Governor of Britain, "in order to awe the
Britons." It was called the "Castle of the Medway," or "the Kentishmen's
Castle," and it seems, with other antagonisms, to have awed the
unfortunate Britons pretty effectively, for it lasted until decay and
dissolution came to it and to them, as to all things. It was replaced by
a new castle built by Hrofe (509), which in its turn succumbed to the
ravages of time.
[Illustration: The Castle from Rochester Bridge]
Gundulph, Bishop of Rochester (1077), whose name still survives here and
there in connection with charities and in other ways in the "ancient
city," appears to be entitled to the credit of having commenced to build
the present massive square Tower or Keep, the surviving portion of a
magnificent whole, sometimes called "Gundulph's Tower," "towards which
he was to expend the sum of sixty pounds," and this structure ranks as
one of the most perfect examples of Norman architecture in existence.
Other authorities ascribe the erection to Odo, Bishop of Bayeux and Earl
of Kent, half-brother to William the Conqueror, who is described by
Hasted as "a turbulent and ambitious prelate, who aimed at nothing less
than the popedom." Later, in the reign of William Rufus, it was
accounted "the strongest and most important castle of England." It was
so important that Lambarde, in _A Perambulation of Kent_, says:--"It was
much in the eie of such as were authors of troubles following within
the realme, so that from time to time it had a part almost in every
Tragedie."
Mr. Robert Collins, in his compact and useful _Visitors' Handbook of
Rochester and Neighbourhood_, quoting from another ancient historian,
says that "In 1264, King Henry III. [who in 1251 held a grand tournament
in the Castle] 'commanded that the Shyriffe of Kent do set aboute to
finish and complete the great Tower which Gundulph had left imperfect.'"
About 1463, Edward IV. repaired part of the Castle, after which it was
allowed to fall into decay. The instructions to the "shyriffe" were no
doubt necessary; for although L60 would probably go a great way in the
time of Bishop Gundulph, the modern aesthetic builder would do very
little indeed for that sum, towards the erection of such an impregnable
fortress as Rochester Castle, the walls of which vary from eight to
thirteen feet in thickness, whatever his progenitor may have done in
1077.
The Keep--the last resort of the garrison when all the outworks were
taken--is considered so beautiful that it is selected, under the article
"Castle" in the last edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, as an
illustration of Norman architecture, showing "an embattled parapet often
admitting of chambers and staircases being constructed," and showing
also "embattled turrets carried one story higher than the parapet."
There is also a fine woodcut of the Castle at p. 198 of vol. v. of that
work.
The Keep is seventy feet square and a hundred feet high, built of the
native Kentish ragstone and Caen stone; and the adamantine mortar or
cement used in its construction was made with sand, evidently procured
at the seaside some distance from Rochester, for it contains remains of
cardium, pecten, solen, and other marine shells, which would not be
found in river sand. Mr. Roach Smith suggested that probably the sand
may have been procured from "Cockle-shell Hard," near Sheerness. He
called our attention to the fact that in Norman mortar sand is
predominant, and in Roman mortar lime or chalk.
[Illustration: Rochester Castle]
The roof and the chambers are gone,--the Keep remains as a mere
shell,--and where bishops, kings, and barons came and went, flocks of
the common domestic pigeon, in countless numbers, fly about and make
their home and multiply. One almost regrets the freedom which these
graceful birds possess, although to grudge freedom to a pigeon is like
grudging sunshine to a flower. But though the damage to the walls is
really trifling, as they will stand for centuries to come, still the
litter and mess which the birds naturally make is considerable and
unsightly, and decidedly out of keeping in such a magnificent ruin. The
pigeons exhibit what takes place when a species becomes dominant to the
exclusion of other species, as witness the pest of the rabbits in New
Zealand. With profound respect to his Worship the Mayor and the
Corporation of Rochester, to whom the Castle and grounds now belong, the
writer of these lines, as a naturalist, ventures to suggest that the
Castle should be left to the jackdaws, its natural and doubtless its
original tenants, which, although of higher organization, have been
driven out by superior numbers in the "struggle for existence," and for
whom it is a much more appropriate habitat in keeping with all
traditions; and further, that the said pigeons be forthwith made into
pies for the use and behoof of the deserving poor of the ancient city of
Rochester.
Mention has been made of the fact that the Castle and grounds are the
property of the Corporation of Rochester. They were acquired by purchase
in 1883 from the Earl of Jersey for L8,000, and the occasion was
celebrated by great civic rejoicings.[6] The Corporation are not only to
be congratulated on the wisdom of their purchase ("a thing of beauty is
a joy for ever"), but also on the excellent manner in which the grounds
are maintained--pigeons excepted. The gardens, with closely-cut lawns,
abound with euonymus, laurustinus, bay, and other evergreens, together
with many choice flowers. The single red, or Deptford pink (_Dianthus
Armeria_), grows wild on the walls of the Castle. There is a tasteful
statuette of her Majesty, under a Gothic canopy, near the entrance,
which records her Jubilee in 1887. The inscriptions on three of the four
corners are appropriately chosen from Lord Tennyson's _Carmen
Saeculare_:--
To commemorate the
=Jubilee of Queen Victoria=,
1887.
L. LEVY, MAYOR.
"Fifty years of ever-broadening commerce!"
"Fifty years of ever-brightening science!"
"Fifty years of ever-widening empire!"
There is free admission to the grounds through a handsome modern Norman
gateway, but a trifling charge of a few pence is made for permission to
enter the Keep, which has convenient steps ascending to the top. From
the summit of the Keep, there are magnificent views of the valley of the
river Medway, the adjacent hills, Rochester, Chatham, and the vicinity.
The Cathedral, Jasper's Gatehouse, and Restoration House, are also
noteworthy objects to the lover of Dickens. As Mr. Philips Bevan says,
and as we verified, the views inside at midday, when the sun is
streaming down, are "very peculiar and beautiful."
Dickens's first and last great works are both associated with the
Castle, and it is referred to in several other of his writings. We can
fancy, more than sixty years ago, the eager and enthusiastic
Pickwickians, in company with their newly-made acquaintance, Mr. Alfred
Jingle, seated outside the four-horse coach,--the "Commodore," driven
possibly by "Old Chumley,"--dashing over old Rochester Bridge, to "the
lively notes of the guard's key-bugle," when the sight of the Castle
first broke upon them.
"'Magnificent ruin!' said Mr. Augustus Snodgrass,
with all the poetic fervour that distinguished
him, when they came in sight of the fine old
Castle.
"'What a study for an antiquarian!' were the very
words which fell from Mr. Pickwick's mouth, as he
applied his telescope to his eye.
"'Ah, fine place!' said the stranger, 'glorious
pile--frowning walls--tottering arches--dark
nooks--crumbling staircases--'"
Little did poor Mr. Winkle think that within twenty-four hours _his_
feeling of admiration for Rochester Castle would be turned into
astonishment, for does not the chronicle say that "if the upper tower of
Rochester Castle had suddenly walked from its foundation and stationed
itself opposite the coffee-room window [of the Bull Hotel], Mr. Winkle's
surprise would have been as nothing compared with the perfect
astonishment with which he had heard this address" (referring of course
to the insult to Dr. Slammer, and the challenge in the matter of the
duel).
It was on the occasion of "a visit to the Castle" very soon afterwards
that Mr. Winkle confided in, and sought the good offices of, his friend
Mr. Snodgrass, in the "affair of honour" which was to take place at
"sunset, in a lonely field beyond Fort Pitt." Poor fellow! how eagerly
he tried, under a mask of the most perfect candour, and how miserably
he failed, to arouse the energies of his friend to avert the impending
catastrophe.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF ROCHESTER CASTLE]
"'Snodgrass,' he said, stopping suddenly, 'do
_not_ let me be baulked in this matter--do _not_
give information to the local authorities--do
_not_ obtain the assistance of several peace
officers to take either me or Doctor Slammer of
the 97th Regiment, at present quartered in Chatham
Barracks, into custody, and thus prevent this
duel;--I say, do _not_.'
"Mr. Snodgrass seized his friend's hand as he
enthusiastically replied, 'Not for worlds!'
"A thrill passed over Mr. Winkle's frame, as the
conviction that he had nothing to hope from his
friend's fears, and that he was destined to become
an animated target, rushed forcibly upon him."
The state of the case having been formally explained to Mr. Snodgrass,
they make arrangements, hire "a case of satisfaction pistols, with the
satisfactory accompaniments of powder, ball, and caps," and "the two
friends returned to their inn." The next ground which they traversed
together to pursue the subject was at Fort Pitt. We will follow them
presently.
In _The Mystery of Edwin Drood_ there is no direct reference to the
Castle itself, but the engraving of it, with the Cathedral in the
background, after the pretty sketch by Mr. Luke Fildes, R.A., will ever
be associated with that beautiful fragment.
Another reference is contained in the preface to _Nicholas Nickleby_,
where Dickens says:--"I cannot call to mind now how I came to hear about
Yorkshire schools when I was a not very robust child, sitting in
by-places near Rochester Castle, with a head full of 'Partridge,'
'Strap,' 'Tom Pipes,' and 'Sancho Panza.'"
A sympathetic notice of the Castle is also contained in the _Seven Poor
Travellers_. It begins:--
"Sooth to say, he [Time] did an active stroke of
work in Rochester in the old days of the Romans,
and the Saxons, and the Normans, and down to the
times of King John, when the rugged Castle--I will
not undertake to say how many hundreds of years
old then--was abandoned to the centuries of
weather which have so defaced the dark apertures
in its walls, that the ruin looks as if the rooks
and daws had picked its eyes out."
And this, the most touching reference of all, occurs in "One Man in a
Dockyard," contributed by Dickens[7] to _Household Words_ in 1851:--
"There was Rochester Castle, to begin with. I
surveyed the massive ruin from the Bridge, and
thought what a brief little practical joke I
seemed to be, in comparison with its solidity,
stature, strength, and length of life. I went
inside; and, standing in the solemn shadow of its
walls, looking up at the blue sky, its only
remaining roof, (to the disturbance of the crows
and jackdaws who garrison the venerable fortress
now,) calculated how much wall of that thickness
I, or any other man, could build in his whole
life,--say from eight years old to eighty,--and
what a ridiculous result would be produced. I
climbed the rugged staircase, stopping now and
then to peep at great holes where the rafters and
floors were once,--bare as toothless gums now,--or
to enjoy glimpses of the Medway through dreary
apertures like sockets without eyes; and, looking
from the Castle ramparts on the Old Cathedral, and
on the crumbling remains of the old Priory, and on
the row of staid old red-brick houses where the
Cathedral dignitaries live, and on the shrunken
fragments of one of the old City gates, and on the
old trees with their high tops below me, felt
quite apologetic to the scene in general for my
own juvenility and insignificance. One of the
river boatmen had told me on the bridge, (as
country folks do tell of such places,) that in the
old times, when those buildings were in progress,
a labourer's wages 'were a penny a day, and enough
too.' Even as a solitary penny was to their whole
cost, it appeared to me, was the utmost strength
and exertion of one man towards the labour of
their erection."
Dickens always took his friends to the Keep of Rochester Castle. He
naturally considered it as one of the sights of the old city. It was
equally attractive to his friends, for a curious adventure is recorded
in Forster's _Life_, in connection with a visit which the poet
Longfellow made there in 1842, and which he recollected a quarter of a
century afterwards, and recounted to Forster during a second visit,
together with a curious experience in the slums of London with Dickens.
The first of these adventures is thus described by Forster:--"One of
them was a day at Rochester, when, met by one of those prohibitions
which are the wonder of visitors and the shame of Englishmen, we
overleapt gates and barriers, and setting at defiance repeated threats
of all the terrors of law, coarsely expressed to us by the custodian of
the place, explored minutely the castle ruins." Happily such a
circumstance could not now take place, for, by the present excellent
regulations of the Corporation of the city of Rochester, every visitor
can explore the Castle and grounds to his heart's content.
On arriving at either railway station, Strood or Rochester Bridge, the
Castle is the first object to claim attention. Our attention is
constantly directed to it during our stay in the pleasant city; it is a
landmark when we are on the tramp; and it is the last object to fade
from our view as we regretfully take our departure.
* * * * *
My fellow-tramp favours me with the following note:--
THE DEDICATION OF ROCHESTER CASTLE TO THE PUBLIC.
"I well remember the day of public rejoicing in the picturesque city of
Rochester, on the occasion of the ceremony of formally presenting the
old Castle and grounds to the inhabitants. I had received instructions
from the manager of the _Graphic_ newspaper to make sketches of the
principal incidents in connection with the day's proceedings, and I
reached my destination just in time to obtain from the authorities some
idea of the nature of those proceedings. With this object in view, I
made my way through the surging crowd to the Guildhall, where, in one of
the Corporation rooms, I found a large assembly of local magnates in
official attire, including the Mayor, who was vainly endeavouring to
properly adjust his sword, an operation in which I had the honour of
assisting, much to his Worship's satisfaction, I hope.
[Illustration: Rochester Castle and the Medway]
"The streets of Rochester were thronged with excited people, and the
houses were gaily decked with flags and bunting. When everything was
ready, an imposing procession was formed, and proceeded to the Castle
grounds, preceded by a military band; on arriving there, an address was
read from the pagoda to an attentive audience, the subsequent
proceedings being enlivened by musical strains.
"It had been announced that, in the evening, the old Keep would be
illuminated by the electric light, and I made a point of being present
to witness the unusual sight. The night was very dark, and the ivy-clad
ruin could barely be distinguished; presently, a burst of music from the
band was immediately followed by a remarkably strong beam of light,
which shot into the darkness with such effect as to fairly startle those
present. Then it rested on the grey walls of the huge pile, bathing in
brightness the massive stones and clinging ivy, the respective colours
of each being vividly apparent. But the most striking feature was yet to
come. The hundreds of pigeons which inhabited the nooks and crannies of
the old Keep, being considerably alarmed by this sudden illumination of
their domain, flew with one accord round and round their ancient
tenement, now in the full blaze of light, now lost in the inky darkness
beyond, and fluttering about in a state of the utmost bewilderment.
Methinks even Mr. Pickwick, had he been present in the flesh, would have
been equally amazed at this remarkable spectacle."
F. G. K.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] Mr. Kitton was, by an interesting coincidence, present at the
ceremony above referred to, and he has kindly given his impressions
thereon, which appear at the end of this chapter.
[7] This was a joint article; the description of the works of the
dockyard being by R. H. Horne, and that of the fortifications and
country around by Charles Dickens.