A Week's Tramp in Dickens-Land

Chapter of Rochester, it will be recollected, were anxious that the great novelist"s remains should be placed in or near their Cathedral, and that wish might have been gratified, except, as just explained, that the public decreed otherwise. However, they sanctioned the erection, by the executors, of a bra.s.s, which enriches the wall of the south transept of the edifice, and which has the following inscription:--

There, too, is a Virginia creeper, but we do not observe one growing on the Cathedral walls, as described in _Edwin Drood_. Jackdaws fly about the tower, but there are no rooks, as also stated. Near Minor Canon Row, to the right of Boley Hill (or "Bully Hill," as it is sometimes called), is the "paved Quaker settlement," a sedate row of about a dozen houses "up in a shady corner."

"Jasper"s Gatehouse" of the work above mentioned is certainly an object of great interest to the lover of d.i.c.kens, as many of the remarkable scenes in _Edwin Drood_ took place there. It is briefly described as "an old stone gatehouse crossing the Close, with an arched thoroughfare pa.s.sing beneath it. Through its latticed window, a fire shines out upon the fast-darkening scene, involving in shadow the pendent ma.s.ses of ivy and creeper covering the building"s front." There are _three_ Gatehouses near the Cathedral, a fact which proves somewhat embarra.s.sing to those anxious to identify the original of that so carefully described in the story. A short description of these may not be uninteresting.

[Ill.u.s.tration: College Gate--(or Chertsey"s Gate) Rochester.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Prior"s Gate: Rochester]

(A) "College Yard Gate," "Cemetery Gate," and "Chertsey"s Gate," are the respective names of what we know as "Jasper"s Gatehouse." It is a picturesque stone structure, weather-boarded above the ma.s.sive archway, and abuts on the High Street about a hundred yards north of the Cathedral. Some of the old houses near have recently been demolished, with the result that the Gatehouse now stands out in bold relief against the main thoroughfare of the city. No "pendent ma.s.ses of ivy" or "creeper" cover it. The Gate was named "Chertsey" after Edward Chertsey, a gentleman who lived and owned property near in the time of Edward IV., and the Cathedral authorities still continue to use the old name, "Chertsey"s Gate." The place was recently the residence of the under-porter of the Cathedral, and is now occupied by poor people. There are four rooms, two below and two above.

(B) "Prior"s Gate" is a castellated stone structure partly covered with ivy, standing about a hundred yards south of the Cathedral, and is not now utilized in any way. There is only one room, approached by a winding staircase or "postern stair." The Gate was formerly used as a school for choristers, until the new building of the Choir School was opened in Minor Canon Row about three years ago.

(C) The "Deanery Gatehouse" is the name of a quaint and very cosy old house, having ten rooms, some of which, together with the staircase, are beautifully panelled; its position is a little higher up to the eastward of the College Yard Gate, and adjoining the Cathedral, while a gateway pa.s.sage under it leads to the Deanery. The house was formerly the official residence of the Hon. and Reverend Canon Hotham, who was appointed a Canon in residence in 1808, and lived here at intervals until about 1850, when the Canonry was suppressed. Of all the Gatehouses, this is the only one suitable for the residence of a person in Jasper"s position, who was enabled to offer befitting hospitality to his nephew and Neville Landless. Formerly there was an entrance into the Cathedral from this house, which is now occupied by Mr. Day and his family, who kindly allowed us to inspect it. We were informed that locally it is sometimes called "Jasper"s Gatehouse." The interior of the drawing-room on the upper floor presents a very strong resemblance to Mr. Luke Fildes"s ill.u.s.tration, "On dangerous ground." Accordingly, to settle the question of ident.i.ty, I wrote to Mr. Fildes, whose interesting and courteous reply to my inquiries is conclusive. Before giving it, however, I may mention that my fellow-tramp, Mr. Kitton, suggested, more particularly with reference to another ill.u.s.tration in _Edwin Drood_, viz., "Durdles cautions Mr. Sapsea against boasting,"

that, for the purposes of the story, the Prior"s Gate is placed where the College Yard Gate actually stands.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Deanery Gate. Rochester]

"11, MELBURY ROAD, KENSINGTON, W.

"_25th October, 1890._

"DEAR SIR,

"The background of the drawing of "Durdles cautioning Sapsea," I believe I sketched from what you call A., _i. e._ The College Gate. I am almost certain it was not taken from B., the Prior"s.

"The room in the drawing, "On dangerous ground,"

is imaginary.

"I do not believe I entered any of the Gatehouses.

"The resemblance you see in the drawing to the room in the Deanery Gatehouse (C.), might not be gained by actual observation of the _interior_.

"In many instances an artist can well judge what the interior may be from studying the _outside_. I only throw this out to show that the artist may not have seen a thing even when a strong resemblance occurs. I am sorry to leave any doubt on the subject, though personally I feel none.

"You see I never felt the necessity or propriety of being locally accurate to Rochester or its buildings. d.i.c.kens, of course, meant Rochester; yet, at the same time, he chose to be obscure on that point, and I took my cue from him. I always thought it was one of his most artistic pieces of work; the vague, dreamy description of the Cathedral in the opening chapter of the book. So definite in one sense, yet so locally vague.

"Very faithfully yours, "LUKE FILDES.

"W. R. HUGHES, ESQ."

The College Yard Gate (A) must therefore be regarded as the typical Jasper"s Gatehouse, but, with the usual novelist"s license, some points in all three Gatehouses have been utilized for effect. So we can imagine the three friends in succession going up the "postern stair;" and, further on in the story, we can picture that mysterious "single buffer, d.i.c.k Datchery, living on his means," as a lodger in the "venerable architectural and inconvenient" official dwelling of Mr. Tope, minutely described in the eighteenth chapter of _Edwin Drood_, as "communicating by an upper stair with Mr. Jasper"s," watching the unsuspecting Jasper as he goes to and from the Cathedral.

Chapters twelve, fourteen, and twenty-three refer to Jasper"s Gatehouse, and its proximity to the busy hum of human life, in very vivid terms, especially chapter twelve:--

"Among these secluded nooks there is little stir or movement after dark. There is little enough in the high tide of the day, but there is next to none at night. Besides that, the cheerfully frequented High Street lies nearly parallel to the spot (the old Cathedral rising between the two), and is the natural channel in which the Cloisterham traffic flows, a certain awful hush pervades the ancient pile, the cloisters, and the churchyard after dark, which not many people care to encounter. . . . One might fancy that the tide of life was stemmed by Mr. Jasper"s own Gatehouse.

The murmur of the tide is heard beyond; but no wave pa.s.ses the archway, over which his lamp burns red behind the curtain, as if the building were a Lighthouse. . . .

"The red light burns steadily all the evening in the Lighthouse on the margin of the tide of busy life. Softened sounds and hum of traffic pa.s.s it, and flow on irregularly into the lonely precincts; but very little else goes by save violent rushes of wind. It comes on to blow a boisterous gale. . . .

John Jasper"s lamp is kindled, and his Lighthouse is shining, when Mr. Datchery returns alone towards it. As mariners on a dangerous voyage, approaching an iron-bound coast, may look along the beams of the warning light to the haven lying beyond it that may never be reached, so Mr.

Datchery"s wistful gaze is directed to this beacon and beyond. . . ."

The sensation of calm in pa.s.sing suddenly out of the busy High Street of Rochester into the subdued precincts of the Cathedral, as above described, is very marked and peculiar, and must be experienced to be realized.

Among the many interesting ancient buildings in "the lonely precincts"

may be mentioned the old Episcopal Palace of the Bishops of Rochester.

My friend Mr. George Payne, F.S.A., Hon. Sec. of the Kent Archaeological Society, who now lives there, writes me that:--"it is impossible to say when it was first built, but it was rebuilt _circa_ 1200, the Palace which preceded it having been destroyed by fire. Bishop Fisher was appointed to the See in 1504, and mainly resided at Rochester. The learned prelate here entertained the great Erasmus in 1516, and Cardinal Wolsey in 1527. In 1534 Bishop Fisher left Rochester never to return, being beheaded on Tower Hill, June 22nd, 1535. The front of the Palace has been coated with rough plaster work dusted over with broken tile, but the rear walls are in their original state, being wholly composed of rag, tufa, and here and there Roman tiles. The cellars are of the most ma.s.sive construction, and many of the rooms are panelled."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Vines and Restoration House]

The Monks" Vineyard of _Edwin Drood_ exists as "The Vines," and is one of the "lungs" of Rochester, belonging to the Dean and Chapter, by whom it is liberally leased to the Corporation for a nominal consideration.

It was a vineyard, or garden, in the days of the monks, and is now a fine open s.p.a.ce, planted with trees, and has good walks and well-trimmed lawns and borders. Remains of the wall of the city, or abbey, previous to the Cathedral, const.i.tute the northern boundary of "The Vines." There are commodious seats for the public, and it was doubtless on one of these, as represented in the ill.u.s.tration ent.i.tled "Under the Trees,"

that Edwin Drood and Rosa sat, during that memorable discussion of their position and prospects, which began so childlike and ended so sadly.

""Can"t you see a happy Future?" For certain, neither of them sees a happy Present, as the gate opens and closes, and one goes in and the other goes away." A fine clump of old elms (seven in number), called "The Seven Sisters," stands at the east end of the Vines, nearly opposite Restoration House, and it was under these trees that the conversation took place.

So curiously exact at times does the description fit in with the places, that we notice opposite Eastgate House the "Lumps of Delight Shop," to which it will be remembered that after the discussion Rosa Bud directed Edwin Drood to take her.

d.i.c.kens"s last visit to Rochester was on Monday, 6th June, 1870, when he walked over from Gad"s Hill Place with his dogs; and he appears to have been noticed by several persons in the Vines, and particularly by Mr.

John Sweet, as he stood leaning against the wooden palings near Restoration House, contemplating the beautiful old Manor House. These palings have since been removed, and an iron fence subst.i.tuted. The object of this visit subsequently became apparent, when it was found that, in those pages of _Edwin Drood_ written a few hours before his death, Datchery and the Princess Puffer held that memorable conference there. "They have arrived at the entrance to the Monks" Vineyard; an appropriate remembrance, presenting an exemplary model for imitation, is revived in the woman"s mind by the sight of the place," in allusion of course to a present of "three shillings and sixpence" which Edwin Drood gave her Royal Highness on a previous occasion to buy opium.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Restoration House, Rochester, as it appeared in d.i.c.kens"s time. (From a sketch by an Amateur.)]

The extensive promenade called the Esplanade (where in 1889 we saw the Regatta in which, after a series of annual defeats, Rochester maintained its supremacy), on the east side of the river Medway, under the Castle walls, pleasantly approached from the Cathedral Close, is memorable as having been the spot described in the thirteenth chapter where Edwin and Rosa met for the last time, and mutually agreed to terminate their unfortunate and ill-a.s.sorted engagement.

"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."

We are anxious to identify Cloisterham Weir, frequently mentioned in _Edwin Drood_, but more particularly as being the place where Minor Canon Crisparkle found Edwin"s watch and shirt-pin. The Weir, we are told in the novel, "is full two miles above the spot to which the young men [Edwin and Neville] had repaired [presumably the Esplanade] to watch the storm." There is, however, no Weir nearer than Allington, at which place the tide of the Medway stops, and Allington is a considerable distance from Rochester, probably seven or eight miles. How well the good Minor Canon"s propensity for "perpetually pitching himself headforemost into all the deep water in the surrounding country," and his "pilgrimages to Cloisterham Weir in the cold rimy mornings," are brought into requisition to enable him to obtain the watch and pin.

"He threw off his clothes, he plunged into the icy water, and swam for the spot--a corner of the Weir--where something glistened which did not move and come over with the glistening water drops, but remained stationary. . . . He brought the watch to the bank, swam to the Weir again, climbed it, and dived off. He knew every hole and corner of all the depths, and dived and dived and dived, until he could bear the cold no more. His notion was that he would find the body; he only found a shirt-pin sticking in some mud and ooze."

Our failure to identify Cloisterham Weir exhibits another instance where, for the purposes of the story, an imaginary place is introduced.

To Mr. William Ball is due the credit for subsequently suggesting that Snodland Brook and Snodland Weir may have possibly been in d.i.c.kens"s mind in originating Cloisterham Weir; so we tramped over to inspect them. Near the village, the brook (or river, for it is of respectable width) is turbid and shallow, but higher up--a mile or so--we found it clearer and deeper, and we heard from some labourers, whom we saw regaling themselves by the side of a hayrick, that a local gentleman had some years ago been in the habit of bathing in the stream all the year round.

[Ill.u.s.tration: St. Nicholas" Burying Ground]

The ancient Church of St. Nicholas (1423) is on the north side of the Cathedral. In front of it is a narrow strip of ground, enclosed with iron railings, formerly the burial-ground of the Church, but now disused, referred to in _Edwin Drood_ as "a fragment of a burial-ground in which an unhappy sheep was grazing." In this enclosure, which is neatly kept, there are a weeping willow at each end, and in the centre an exquisite specimen of the catalpa tree (_Catalpa syringifolia_), the floral ornament of the Cathedral precincts. At the time of our visit it is in perfect condition, the large cordate bright green leaves, and the ma.s.sive trusses of l.a.b.i.ate flowers of white, yellow, and purple colours (not unlike those of the _Impatiens noli-me-tangere_ balsam, only handsomer) are worth walking miles to see. It is a North American plant, and in its native country sometimes grows to a height of forty feet.

The specimen here described is about twenty feet high, and was planted about fifteen years ago.[9]

On the opposite side of the way is the old cemetery of St. Nicholas"

Church, originally part of the Castle moat, but which was converted to its present purpose about half a century ago. This quiet resting-place of the dead has intense interest for the lover of d.i.c.kens, as it was here that he desired to be buried; and his family would certainly have carried his wishes into effect, but that the place had been closed for years and no further interments were allowed. Pending other arrangements at Shorne, an admirable suggestion was made in the _Times_, which speedily found favour with the nation in its great affection for him, namely, that he should rest in Westminster Abbey; and, the Dean of Westminster promptly and wisely responding to the suggestion, it was at once carried into effect.

As we pause, and look again and again at the sheltered nook in the old cemetery sanctified by his memory, and adorned by rich evergreens and other trees, among which the weeping willow and the almond are conspicuous, we quite understand and sympathize with d.i.c.kens"s love for such a calm and secluded spot.

The Dean and Chapter of Rochester, it will be recollected, were anxious that the great novelist"s remains should be placed in or near their Cathedral, and that wish might have been gratified, except, as just explained, that the public decreed otherwise. However, they sanctioned the erection, by the executors, of a bra.s.s, which enriches the wall of the south transept of the edifice, and which has the following inscription:--

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHARLES d.i.c.kENS

BORN AT PORTSMOUTH SEVENTH OF FEBRUARY 1812 DIED AT GADSHILL PLACE BY ROCHESTER NINTH OF JUNE 1870 BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY

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