Being tired with walking, we refreshed ourselves here with a mouthful of
bread and some ale, and immediately mounted post-horses, and arrived
about two or three o’clock in the morning at Dover. In our way to it,
which was rough and dangerous enough, the following accident happened to
us: our guide, or postillion, a youth, was before with two of our
company, about the distance of a musketshot; we, by not following quick
enough, had lost sight of our friends; we came afterwards to where the
road divided; on the right it was down-hill and marshy, on the left was a
small hill: whilst we stopped here in doubt, and consulted which of the
roads we should take, we saw all on a sudden on our right hand some
horsemen, their stature, dress, and horses exactly resembling those of
our friends; glad of having found them again, we determined to set on
after them; but it happened, through God’s mercy, that though we called
to them, they did not answer us, but kept on down the marshy road at such
a rate, that their horses’ feet struck fire at every stretch, which made
us, with reason, begin to suspect they were thieves, having had warning
of such; or rather, that they were nocturnal spectres, who, as we were
afterwards told, are frequently seen in those places: there were likewise
a great many Jack-a-lanterns, so that we were quite seized with horror
and amazement! But, fortunately for us, our guide soon after sounded his
horn, and we, following the noise, turned down the left-hand road, and
arrived safe to our companions; who, when we had asked them if they had
not seen the horsemen who had gone by us, answered, not a soul. Our
opinions, according to custom, were various upon this matter; but
whatever the thing was, we were, without doubt, in imminent danger, from
which that we escaped, the glory is to be ascribed to God alone.
Dover, situated among cliffs (standing where the port itself was
originally, as may be gathered from anchors and parts of vessels dug up
there), is more famous for the convenience of its port, which indeed is
now much decayed, and its passage to France, than for either its elegance
or populousness: this passage, the most used and the shortest, is of
thirty miles, which, with a favourable wind, may be run over in five or
six hours’ time, as we ourselves experienced; some reckon it only
eighteen to Calais, and to Boulogne sixteen English miles, which, as
Ortelius says in his “Theatrum,” are longer than the Italian.
Here was a church dedicated to St. Martin by Victred, King of Kent, and a
house belonging to the Knights Templars; of either there are now no
remains. It is the seat of a suffragan to the Archbishop of Canterbury,
who, when the Archbishop is employed upon business of more consequence,
manages the ordinary affairs, but does not interfere with the
archiepiscopal jurisdiction. Upon a hill, or rather rock, which on its
right side is almost everywhere a precipice, a very extensive castle
rises to a surprising height, in size like a little city, extremely well
fortified, and thick-set with towers, and seems to threaten the sea
beneath. Matthew Paris calls it the door and key of England; the
ordinary people have taken into their heads that it was built by Julius
Cæsar; it is likely it might by the Romans, from those British bricks in
the chapel which they made use of in their foundations. See Camden’s
“Britannia.”
After we had dined, we took leave of England.