Beyond, the coast rises up from the low sandy level, and rounding the
South Foreland, on which is a fine electric lighthouse of modern
construction, we come to the chalk-cliffs, on top of which are the dark
towers of Dover Castle, from whose battlements the road descends to the
town along the water's edge and in the valley of the little stream that
gives the place its name--the Dour, which the Celts called the Dwr or
"water," and the Romans the Dubrae. The great keep of Dover dates from
William Rufus's reign, and is one of the many badges left in England of
the Norman Conquest. There are earthworks at Dover, however, of much
earlier origin, built for protection by the Celts and Romans, and
forming part of the chain that guarded this celebrated coast, of which
Dover, being at the narrowest part of the strait, was considered the
key. But no such Norman castle rises elsewhere on these shores. "It was
built by evil spirits," writes a Bohemian traveller in the fifteenth
century, "and is so strong that in no other part of Christendom can
anything be found like it." The northern turret on the keep rises four
hundred and sixty-eight feet above the sea at the base of the hill, and
from it can be had a complete observation of both the English and French
coasts for many miles. Within the castle is the ancient Pharos, or
watch-tower, a Roman work. Over upon the opposite side of the harbor is
Shakespeare's Cliff,
"----whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully on the confined deep."
[Illustration: THE PHAROS, DOVER CASTLE.]
There is no more impressive view in England than that from the Castle
Hill of Dover, with the green fields and white chalk headlands
stretching far away on either hand fringed by the breakers, the hills
and harbors faintly seen across the strait in France, and the busy town
of Dover lying at the foot of the cliff. This is half watering-place and
half port of transit to the opposite coast. Its harbor is almost
entirely artificial, and there has been much difficulty in keeping it
open. That there is any port there now at all is due mainly to Raleigh's
advice, and there is at present a well-protected harbor of refuge, with
a fine pier extending nearly a half mile into the sea, with a fort at
the outer end. From the top of the hill there looks down upon this pier
the Saluting-Battery Gate of the castle, within which is kept that
curious specimen of ancient gunnery known as "Queen Elizabeth's Pocket
Pistol."
[Illustration: SALUTING BATTERY.]
Farther down the coast is the ancient "limb" of Dover, which has grown
into the rival port of Folkestone. This modern port, created to aid the
necessities of travel across the Channel, stands at the north-eastern
corner of the Romney Marsh, a district that has been raised out of the
sea and is steadily increasing in front of the older coast-line, shown
by a range of hills stretching westward from Folkestone. This marsh has
made the sea retreat fully three miles from Hythe, whose name signifies
"the harbor," though it is now an inland village, with a big church
dedicated to St. Leonard, the deliverer of captives, who was always
much reverenced in the Cinque Ports, their warlike sailors being
frequently taken prisoner. In a crypt under its chancel is a large
collection of skulls and bones, many of them bearing weapon scars and
cuts, showing them to be relics of the wars. Beyond Hythe the Rother
originally flowed into the Channel, but a great storm in the reign of
Edward I. silted up its outlet, and the river changed its course over
towards Rye, so as to avoid the Cinque port of Romney that was
established on the western edge of the marshes to which it gave the
name. Romney is now simply a village without any harbor, and of the five
churches it formerly had, only the church of St. Nicholas remains as a
landmark among the fens that have grown up around it, an almost treeless
plain intersected by dykes and ditches.