* * * * * *
To cut our ghost story short, without adding another chapter, Mr. Aveling, on looking into the dark chasm by the meagre light of the lowered candle, beheld, to his amazement, the reflection of his own face in the water of a large cistern underneath the staircase, the house having formerly been supplied from the "large brewery" a short distance off. The unearthly noise was no doubt caused by air in the pipes, through which the water rushed when suddenly turned on by the brewers, who were working late at night. InGreat Expectationsit is stated that:—"The brewery buildings had a little lane of communication with it" [the courtyard of Satis House], "and the wooden gates of that lane stood open" [at the time of Pip's first visit, when Estella showed him over the premises], "and all the brewery beyond stood open, away to the high enclosing wall; and all was empty and disused. The cold wind seemed to blow colder there, than outside the gate; and it made a shrill noise in howling in and out at the open sides of the brewery, like the noise of wind in the rigging of a ship at sea."
"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.
Tothe 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 Cæsar, 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.
The Castle from Rochester Bridge
Gundulph, Bishop of Rochester (1077), whose name still survives here and there in connection with charities and inother 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, inA Perambulation of Kent, says:—"It was much in the eie ofsuch 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 usefulVisitors' 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 £60 would probably go a great way in the time of Bishop Gundulph, the modern æsthetic 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 theEncyclopædia 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 somedistance 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.
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 £8,000, 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'sCarmen Sæculare:—
To commemorate theJubilee 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, theeager 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—'"
"'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 hourshisfeeling 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 hefailed, to arouse the energies of his friend to avert the impending catastrophe.
Interior of Rochester Castle
"'Snodgrass,' he said, stopping suddenly, 'donotlet me be baulked in this matter—donotgive information to the local authorities—donotobtain 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, donot.'"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."
"'Snodgrass,' he said, stopping suddenly, 'donotlet me be baulked in this matter—donotgive information to the local authorities—donotobtain 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, donot.'
"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.
InThe Mystery of Edwin Droodthere 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 toNicholas 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 theSeven 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."
"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]toHousehold Wordsin 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."
"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'sLife, 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 ofthose 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 theGraphicnewspaper 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 officialattire, 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.
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 wasimmediately 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.
"That same afternoon, the massive grey square tower of an old Cathedral rises before the sight of a jaded traveller. The bells are going for daily Vesper Service, and he must needs attend it, one would say, from his haste to reach the open Cathedral door. The choir are getting on their sullied white robes, in a hurry, when he arrives among them, gets on his own robe, and falls into the procession filing in to Service. Then, the Sacristan locks the iron-barred gates that divide the Sanctuary from the Chancel, and all of the procession having scuttled into their places, hide their faces; and then the intoned words, 'When the wicked man—' rise among the groins of arches and beams of roof, awakening muttered thunder."—Edwin Drood.
Thereaders of Dickens are first introduced to Rochester Cathedral, in the early pages of the immortalPickwick Papers, by that audaciousraconteur, Mr. Alfred Jingle:—
"Old Cathedral too—earthy smell—pilgrims' feet worn away the old steps—little Saxon doors—confessionals like money-takers' boxes at theatres—queer customers those monks—Popes, and Lord Treasurers, and all sorts of old fellows, with great red faces, and broken noses, turning up every day—buff jerkins too—matchlocks—sarcophagus—fine place—old legends too—strange stories: capital."
"Old Cathedral too—earthy smell—pilgrims' feet worn away the old steps—little Saxon doors—confessionals like money-takers' boxes at theatres—queer customers those monks—Popes, and Lord Treasurers, and all sorts of old fellows, with great red faces, and broken noses, turning up every day—buff jerkins too—matchlocks—sarcophagus—fine place—old legends too—strange stories: capital."
Rochester Cathedral
But it was through the medium ofEdwin Drood, and under the masked name of Cloisterham, that all the novel-reading world beyond the "ancient city" first recognizedRochester Cathedral—and indeed the ancient city too—as having been elevated to a degree of interest and importance far beyond that imparted to it by its own venerable history and ecclesiastical associations, numerous and varied as they are. The early portion of the story introduces us to Cloisterham in imperishable language:—
"An ancient city Cloisterham, and no meet dwelling-place for any one with hankerings after the noisy world. . . . A drowsy city Cloisterham, whose inhabitants seem to suppose, with an inconsistency more strange than rare, that all its changes lie behind it, and that there are no more to come. . . . In a word, a city of another and a bygone time is Cloisterham, with its hoarse cathedral bell, its hoarse rooks hovering about the cathedral tower, its hoarser and less distinct rooks in the stalls far beneath. . . ."
"An ancient city Cloisterham, and no meet dwelling-place for any one with hankerings after the noisy world. . . . A drowsy city Cloisterham, whose inhabitants seem to suppose, with an inconsistency more strange than rare, that all its changes lie behind it, and that there are no more to come. . . . In a word, a city of another and a bygone time is Cloisterham, with its hoarse cathedral bell, its hoarse rooks hovering about the cathedral tower, its hoarser and less distinct rooks in the stalls far beneath. . . ."
The particulars in this chapter mainly relate toThe Mystery of Edwin Drood, which Longfellow thought "certainly one of Dickens's most beautiful works, if not the most beautiful of all," but a few words may not be inappropriate respecting some of the principal events connected with the Cathedral. It was founded[8]a.d.604, by Ethelbert, King of Kent, and the first bishop of the See (Bishop Justus) was ordained by Augustine, the Archbishop of the Britons. The See of Rochester is therefore, with the exception of Canterbury, at once the most ancient and also the smallest in England.
The Cathedral, as well as the city, suffered from the attacks of Ethelred, King of Mercia, and in 1075, "when Arnot, a monk of Bec, came to the See, it was in a most deplorable condition." Bishop Gundulph, who succeeded him, and by whose efforts the Castle was erected, replaced the old Englishchurch by a Norman one (1080), and made other improvements. The Cathedral suffered from fire in 1138 and 1179. Its great north transept was built in 1235, and the great south transept in 1240. In 1423, the parish altar of St. Nicholas, in the nave, was removed to a new Church for the citizens on the north side of the Cathedral. In 1470, the great west window was inserted. The Norman west front has a richly sculptured door of five receding arches, containing figures of the Saviour and the twelve apostles, and statues of Henry I. and his Queen, Matilda. There are monuments in the Cathedral to St. William of Perth, a baker of that town, who was murdered near here by his servant, on his way to the Holy Land (1201), and was canonized, to Bishop Gundulph, Bishop John de Sheppey, Bishop de Merton (the founder of Merton College, Oxford), and to many others.
According to Mr. Phillips Bevan, "the chapter-house is remarkable for its magnificent Decorated Door (about 1344), of which there is a fac-simile at the Crystal Palace. The figures represent the Christian and the Jewish Churches, surrounded by Fathers and Angels. The figure at the top is the pure soul for whom the angels are supposed to be praying."
Various alterations and additions have been made from time to time, the last of which appears to be the central tower, which is terribly mean and inappropriate, and altogether out of place with the ancient surroundings. It was built by Cottingham in 1825.
We pass, at various times, several pleasant hours in the Cathedral and its precincts, admiring the beautiful Norman work, and recalling most delightful memories of Charles Dickens and his associations therewith.
Rochester Cathedral Interior
Among the many friends we made at Rochester, was Mr.Syms, the respected Manager of the Gas Company, and an old resident in the city. To this gentleman we are indebted for several reminiscences of Dickens and his works. He fancies thatThe Mystery of Edwin Droodowed its origin to thefollowing strange local event that happened many years ago. A well-to-do person, a bachelor (who lived somewhere near the site of the present Savings Bank in High St., Rochester, Chatham end), was the guardian and trustee of a nephew (a minor), who was the inheritor of a large property. Business, pleasure, or a desire to seek health, took the nephew to the West Indies, from whence he returned somewhat unexpectedly. After his return he suddenly disappeared, and was supposed to have gone another voyage, but no one ever saw or heard of him again, and the matter was soon forgotten. When, however, certain excavations were being made for some improvements or additions to the Bank, the skeleton of a young man was discovered; and local tradition couples the circumstance with the probability of the murder of the nephew by the uncle.
Mr. Syms thought that the "Crozier," which is probably a set off to the "Mitre," the orthodox hotel where Mr. Datchery put up with his "portmanteau," was probably the city coffee-house, an old hotel of the coaching days, which stood on the site now occupied by the London County Bank. "It was a hotel of a most retiring disposition," and "business was chronically slack at the 'Crozier,'" which probably accounts for its dissolution. Another suggestion is that the "Crozier" may have been "The Old Crown," a fifteenth-century house, which was pulled down in 1864. He could not identify the "Tilted Wagon," the "cool establishment on the top of a hill."
It is generally admitted that "Mr. Thomas Sapsea, Auctioneer, &c.," was a compound of two originals well known in Rochester—a Mr. B. and a Mr. F., who had many of the characteristics of the quondam Mayor of Cloisterham.Mr. Sapsea's house is the fine old timbered building opposite Eastgate House, which has been previously alluded to.
The "Travellers' Twopenny" ofEdwin Drood, where Deputy,aliasWinks, lodged, Mr. Syms thought to have been a cheap lodging-house well known in that locality, which stood at the junction of Frog Alley and Crow Lane, originally called "The Duck," and subsequently "Kitt's Lodging-house." But, like less interesting and more important relics of the past, this has disappeared, to make way for modern improvements. It had been partly burnt down before. To satisfy ourselves, we go over the ground, which is near Mr. Franklin Homan's furniture establishment.
We are reminded, in reference toEdwin Drood, that the chief tenor singer never heads the procession of choristers. That place of honour belongs to the smaller boys of the choir. An enquiry from us, as to what was the opinion of the townsfolk generally respecting Dickens, elicited the reply that they thought him at times "rather masterful."
We are most attentively shown over the Cathedral and its surroundings by Mr. Miles, the venerable verger. This faithful and devoted official, who began at the bottom of the ladder as a choir boy in the sacred edifice at the commencement of the present century, is much respected, and has recently celebrated his golden wedding. Few can therefore be more closely identified with the growth and development of its current history. Pleasant and instructive it is to hear him recount the many celebrated incidents which have marked its progress, and to see the beautiful memorials of past munificence or affection erected by friends or relatives, which he lovingly points out. It is in no perfunctory spirit, or as mere matter of routine, that he performs his office: we reallyfeel that he takes a deep interest in his task, which makes it a privilege to walk under his guidance through the historic building, and into its famous crypt, so especially associated with Jasper and Durdles.
The Crypt, Rochester Cathedral.The Crypt, Rochester Cathedral.
We enter "by a small side door, . . . descend the rugged steps, and are down in the crypt." It is very spacious, and vaulted with stone. Even by daylight, here and there, "the heavy pillars which support the roof engender masses of black shade, but between them there are lanes of light," and we walk "up and down these lanes," being strangely reminded of Durdles as we notice fragments of old broken stone ornaments carefully laid out on boards in several places. Formerly there were altars to St. Mary and St. Catherine in the crypt or undercroft, but Mr. Wildish's local guide-book says:—"Theyseem not to have been much frequented; consequently these saints were not very profitable to the priests."
We "go up the winding staircase of the great tower, toilsomely turning and turning, and lowering [our] heads to avoid the stairs above, or the rough stone pivot around which they twist." About ninety steps bring us on to the roof of the Cathedral over the choir, and then, keeping along a passage by the parapet, we reach the belfry, and from thence go on by ladder to the bell-chamber, which contains six bells—dark—very—long ladders—trap-doors—very heavy—almost extinguish us when lowering them—more ladders from bell-chamber to roof of tower. The parapet of the tower is very high; we can just see over it when standing on a narrow ledge near the top-coping of the leaded roof. There are a number of curious carved heads on the pinnacles of the tower, and the parapet, to our surprise, appears to be about the same height as the top of the Castle Keep. A panoramic view of Cloisterham presents itself to our view (alas! not by moonlight, as in the story), "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."
We are anxious to go round the triforium, but there is no passage through the arches; it was closed, we are told, at the time of the restoration, about fifteen years ago, when the walls of the Cathedral were pinned for safety. The verger, on being asked, said he did not call to mind that Dickens ever went round the triforium or ascended the tower. If this is so, then much of the wonderful description of that "unaccountable sort of expedition," in the twelfth chapter ofEdwin Drood, must have been written from imagination.
As it is Sunday, and as the summer is nearly over, Mr. Miles, with a feeling akin to that which George Eliot has expressed regarding imperfect work:—
"but God be praised,Antonio Stradivari has an eyeThat winces at false work and loves the true,"—
apologetically explains that one-half the choir are absent on leave, and perhaps we shall not have the musical portion of the service conducted with that degree of efficiency which, as visitors, we may have expected. Nevertheless we attend the afternoon service; and Mendelssohn's glorious anthem, "If with all your hearts," appeals to us with enhanced effect, from the exquisite rendering of it by the gifted pure tenor who takes the solo, followed by the delicate harmonies of the choir, as the sound waves carry them upwards through and around the arches, and from the sublime emotions called into being by the impassioned appeal of the Hebrew prophet.
We study "the fantastic carvings on the under brackets of the stall seats," and examine the lectern described as "the big brass eagle holding the sacred books upon his wings," and in imagination can almost call up the last scene described inThe Mystery of Edwin Drood, where Her Royal Highness, the Princess Puffer, "grins," and "shakes both fists at the leader of the choir," and "Deputy peeps, sharp-eyed, through the bars, and stares astounded from the threatener to the threatened."
Upon being interrogated as to whether he knew Charles Dickens, our guide immediately answers with a smile—"Knew him! yes. He came here very often, and I knewhim very well. The fact is, they want to make me out to be 'Tope.'" And indeed there appears to be such a relevancy in the association, that we frequently find ourselves addressing him as "Mr. Tope," at which he good-humouredly laughs. He further states that Dickens was frequently in Rochester, and especially so when writingEdwin Drood, and appeared to be studying the Cathedral and its surroundings very attentively.
The next question we put is:—"Was there ever such a person as Durdles?" to which he replies, "Of course there was,—a drunken old German stonemason, about thirty years ago, who was always prowling about the Cathedral trying to pick up little bits of broken stone ornaments, carved heads, crockets, finials, and such like, which he carried about in a cotton handkerchief, and which may have suggested to Dickens the idea of the 'slouching' Durdles and his inseparable dinner bundle. He used to work for a certain Squire N——." His earnings mostly went to "The Fortune of War,"—now called "The Life-Boat,"—the inn where he lodged.
Mr. Miles does not remember the prototypes of any other "cathedraly" characters—Crisparkle and the rest—but he quite agrees with the general opinion previously referred to as to the origin of Mr. Sapsea. He considers "Deputy" (the imp-like satellite of Durdles and the "Kinfreederel") to be decidedly a street Arab, the type of which is more common in London than in Rochester. He thinks that the fact of the rooms over the gatehouse having once been occupied by an organ-blower of the Cathedral may have prompted Dickens to make it the residence of the choir-master. He also throws out the suggestion that the discovery in 1825 of the effigyof Bishop John de Sheppey, who died in 1360, may possibly have given rise to the idea of the "old 'uns" in the crypt, the frequent object of Durdles's search,e.g."Durdles come upon the old chap (in reference to a buried magnate of ancient time and high degree) 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."
Minor Canon Row: Rochester
On the south side of the Cathedral is the curious little terrace of old-fashioned houses, about seven in number, called "Minor Canon Row"—"a wonderfully quaint row of red-brick tenements" (Dickens's name for it is "Minor Canon Corner"),—chiefly occupied by the officers and others attached to the Cathedral. Here it was that Mr. Crisparkle dwelt with his mother, and where the little party was held (after the dinner at which Mr. Luke Honeythunder, with his "Curse your souls and bodies—come here and be blessed" philanthropy, was present, and caused "a most doleful breakdown"), which included Miss Twinkleton, the Landlesses, Rosa Bud, and Edwin Drood, as shown in the illustration, "At the Piano." The Reverend Septimus Crisparkle's mother, who is the hostess (and celebrated for her wonderful closet with stores of pickles, jams, biscuits, and cordials), is beautifully described in the story:—
"What is prettier than an old lady—except a young lady—when her eyes are bright, when her figure is trim and compact, when her face is cheerful and calm, when her dress is as the dress of a china shepherdess: so dainty in its colours, so individually assorted to herself, so neatly moulded on her? Nothing is prettier, thought the good Minor Canon frequently, when taking his seat at table opposite his long-widowed mother. Her thought at such times may be condensed into the two words that oftenest did duty together in all her conversations: 'My Sept.'"
"What is prettier than an old lady—except a young lady—when her eyes are bright, when her figure is trim and compact, when her face is cheerful and calm, when her dress is as the dress of a china shepherdess: so dainty in its colours, so individually assorted to herself, so neatly moulded on her? Nothing is prettier, thought the good Minor Canon frequently, when taking his seat at table opposite his long-widowed mother. Her thought at such times may be condensed into the two words that oftenest did duty together in all her conversations: 'My Sept.'"
The backs of the houses have very pretty gardens, and, as evidence of the pleasant and healthy atmosphere of the locality, we notice beautiful specimens of the ilex, arbutus, euonymus, and fig, the last-named being in fruit. The wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria) is found hereabout. There, too, is a Virginia creeper, but we do not observe one growing on the Cathedral walls, as described inEdwin 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 Dickens, as many of the remarkable scenes inEdwin Droodtook place there. It is briefly described as "an old stone gatehouse crossing the Close, with an arched thoroughfare passing beneath it. Through its latticed window, a fire shines out upon the fast-darkening scene, involving in shadow the pendent masses of ivy and creeper covering the building's front." There arethreeGatehouses near the Cathedral, a fact which proves somewhat embarrassing to those anxious to identify the original of that so carefully described inthe story. A short description of these may not be uninteresting.
College Gate—(or Chertsey's Gate) Rochester.
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 massive archway, and abuts on the High Street about a hundred yards north of the Cathedral. Someof 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 masses 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 passage 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 illustration, "On dangerous ground." Accordingly, to settle the question of identity, 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, moreparticularly with reference to another illustration inEdwin 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.
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 theinterior."In many instances an artist can well judge what the interior may be from studying theoutside. 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. Dickens, 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."
"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 theinterior.
"In many instances an artist can well judge what the interior may be from studying theoutside. 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. Dickens, 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, Dick 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 ofEdwin 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:—