Chapter 12, headed “A Night with Durdles,” contains a description of the

ascent of the Cathedral Tower, to the following effect:—

“They go up the winding staircase . . . among the cobwebs and the dust. Twice or thrice they emerge into level low-arched galleries, whence they can look down into the moonlight nave. . . Anon they turn into narrower and steeper staircases, and the night air begins to blow upon them, and the chirp of some startled jackdaw or frightened rook precedes the heavy beating of wings in a confined space, and the beating down of dust and straws upon their heads. At last, leaving their light behind a stair—for it blows fresh up here—they look down on Cloisterham, fair to see in the moonlight: 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: its river winding down from the mist on the horizon, as though that were its source, and already heaving with a restless knowledge of its approach towards the sea.”

Before leaving the Cathedral precincts, on the north side we soon pass St. Nicholas Church, and may note its pleasant little graveyard—“where daisies blossom on the verdant sod”—lying near the old walls of the Castle and its contiguous gardens. It is said that this is the spot which Dickens himself would have preferred as his last resting-place.

We now approach the High Street by The College Gate (facing _Pump Lane_), an old gatehouse with archway, having two exterior doors, standing angle-wise in the street, with a small postern at the back of the gate. The house, now occupied by the assistant verger, is a gabled wooden structure of two storeys, built over the stone gateway beneath. Students of Dickens will remember that this was the residence of _Mr. Tope_, “chief verger and showman” of the Cathedral, with whom lodged Mr. John Jasper, the uncle of Edwin Drood. It is first referred to in the 2nd chapter of the book: “an old stone gatehouse crossing the Close, with an arched thoroughfare passing beneath it,” decorated by “pendant masses of ivy and creeper covering the building’s front.” Here Mr. Jasper entertained his nephew and his nephew’s friend; and we also read of _Mr. Grewgious_ climbing “the postern stair.” On this latter occasion the old lawyer called on Mr. Jasper, visiting Cloisterham in preparation for their formal release as trustees on Edwin’s attaining his majority.

Turning to the right, on the opposite side of the High Street, we soon reach a stone-fronted edifice, with small windows and three gables, known as The Poor Travellers’ House. This charity was established 1579, by a local philanthropist, RICHARD WATTS, formerly citizen of Rochester, who rose from a humble position to be Member of Parliament for the City. He entertained Queen Elizabeth at his mansion (in 1573), a white house situated near the Castle gardens, and called _Satis House_. It will be recollected that Dickens transferred this name to Restoration House, situated in Crow Lane. It is said that the appellation was bestowed on the mansion by the virgin queen herself, in recognition of the “satisfactory” entertainment afforded by her host. _Estella_ gives another explanation of the title: “It meant, when it was given, that whoever had this house could want nothing else. They must have been easily satisfied.”

Watts’s Charity, the Travellers’ Rest aforesaid, is associated with the Christmas Number of _Household Words_ (1854), entitled “THE SEVEN POOR TRAVELLERS;” in which the inscription over the quaint old door is reproduced as follows:—

RICHARD WATTS, ESQ., by his will dated 22 August 1579, founded this charity for six poor travellers, Who not being Rogues, or Proctors may receive gratis for one night, Lodging, Entertainment, and four-pence each.

The entertainment herein specified comprises for each traveller, a supper of half a pound of freshly-cooked meat, one pound of bread, and a half-pint of beer, which is given in addition to the stated fourpence payable in the morning.

[This gentleman’s memory is also perpetuated in the charitable annals of the district by a handsome pile of buildings, in the Elizabethan style, on the Maidstone Road, called WATTS’S ALMSHOUSES—with pleasure-grounds in front, affording accommodation for ten men and ten women, who also receive twelve shillings each per week. The Institution is superintended by a matron and governed by sixteen trustees.]

We are doubtless familiar with the Christmas Eve entertainment here provided by the narrator of “The Seven Poor Travellers,” as above:—

“It was settled that at nine o’clock that night a Turkey and a piece of Roast Beef should smoke upon the board, and that I, faint and unworthy minister for once of Master Richard Watts, should preside as the Christmas-supper host of the six Poor Travellers.”

And we must all have a vivid recollection of the processional order of supply on that festive opportunity:—

“Myself with the pitcher. Ben with Beer. Inattentive Boy with hot Inattentive Boy with hot plates. plates. THE TURKEY.

Female carrying sauces to be heated on the spot.

THE BEEF.

Man with Tray on his head, containing Vegetables and Sundries.

Volunteer Hostler from Hotel, grinning, and rendering no assistance.”

After hearty discussion of the orthodox plum-pudding and mince-pies which crowned the feast, the company drew round the fire, and the “brown beauty” of the host—the pitcher, carried first in the procession—was elevated to the table. It proved to be “a glorious jorum” of hot Wassail, prepared from the chairman’s special and private receipt, the materials of which, “together with their proportions and combinations,” he declines to impart. Glasses being filled therefrom, the toast of the evening was duly and reverently honoured: “CHRISTMAS! CHRISTMAS EVE, my friends; when the Shepherds, who were poor travellers too, in their way, heard the angels sing, ‘On earth peace. Goodwill toward men!’”

The pen of the “Inimitable” was never in more genial feather than when inditing this Christmas story, the cheery and sympathetic humour of which is not excelled even by the “Carol” itself.

Another Dickensian association with this Rochester Charity may be quoted in connection with Miss Adelaide Procter. During ’54 this lady had been a valued contributor to _Household Words_, under the assumed name of “Berwick,” and some speculation arose in the editorial department as to the real personality of the writer. The _nom de plume_ being, in course of time, relinquished, and the secret told, Mr. Dickens sent a letter of congratulation and appreciation to the young authoress—dated December 17th, 1854—which thus concluded: “Pray accept the blessing and forgiveness of Richard Watts, though I am afraid you come under _both his conditions of exclusion_.”

Retracing the High Street route, we again pass the Gate-house of the Cathedral Close, and come, immediately on the left, to the noted Bull Hotel, a commodious establishment of ancient and respectable repute, and the principal posting-house of the town. This is the celebrated hostelry at which the Pickwickians sojourned on the occasion of their first visit to Rochester, per “Commodore” coach from London. In the large assembly-room upstairs—“a long room, with crimson-covered benches, and wax candles in glass chandeliers, with the musicians securely confined in an elevated den”—the memorable Ball took place, on the evening of their arrival, which was attended by _Mr. Tupman_ and his seductive friend _Jingle_; the latter affording some information as to the exclusive character of Rochester society:—

“‘Wait a minute,’ said the stranger, ‘fun presently—nobs not come yet—queer place. Dockyard people of upper rank don’t know Dockyard people of lower rank. Dockyard people of lower rank don’t know small gentry—small gentry don’t know tradespeople—Commissioner don’t know anybody.’”

Here Mr. Jingle, on that fateful occasion, gave dire offence to Doctor Slammer, of the 97th Regiment, by making himself obtrusively agreeable to the rich little widow, Mrs. Budger; and we may remember how the Doctor, with his “hitherto bottled-up indignation effervescing from all parts of his countenance in a perspiration of passion,” insisted on a hostile meeting.

The hotel has a frontage of about 90 feet, with wide pillared gateway, and extensive stabling at the back. Proceeding past the Guildhall on the right, towards the end of the street, facing Rochester Bridge, we arrive at The Crown Hotel, pleasantly situated at the corner of the Esplanade and High Street, one side of the house facing the Medway; a white-brick edifice lately rebuilt. It is referred to in chapter 18 of “Edwin Drood” as “_The Crozier_,” the orthodox hotel at which _Mr. Datchery_ took up his temporary abode, previous to settling in Cloisterham as “a single buffer—an idle dog who lived upon his means.” Other visitors to Rochester may advantageously imitate Mr. Datchery’s example, the position and conduct of the house being alike excellent.

Round the corner to the left, commences The Esplanade, extending under the castle walls, and along the bank of the river for a considerable distance. This promenade is mentioned in the 13th chapter of “Edwin Drood,” being the scene of the last interview between Edwin and Rosa, when they mutually agreed to cancel the irksome bond between them—

“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.”

Leaving Rochester by The Bridge, crossing the Medway, we may bestow a passing thought on _Richard Doubledick_ as he came over the same, “with half a shoe to his dusty feet,” in the year 1799, limping into the town of Chatham. (See “The Seven Poor Travellers,” previously mentioned.)

[Picture: Gadshill Place]

On the north side of the river, the Rambler enters the town of _Strood_, and may proceed through the same, about two miles on the Gravesend Road, to

GADSHILL PLACE,

the last residence of Charles Dickens. It is situated on the left-hand side, nearly opposite the _Falstaff Inn_. The house was purchased by him on the 14th of March 1856, for £1790; and he afterwards projected and carried out many costly additions and improvements thereto. On the first-floor landing is displayed an illuminated frame (the work of Mr. Owen Jones), which reads as follows:—

“THIS HOUSE, GADSHILL PLACE, stands on the summit of Shakespeare’s Gadshill, ever memorable for its association with Sir John Falstaff in his noble fancy—‘_But_, _my lads_, _my lads_, _to-morrow morning_, _by four o’clock_, _early at Gadshill_! _there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings_, _and traders riding to London with fat purses_: _I have vizards for you all_; _you have horses for yourselves_.’”

On this residence Dickens had fixed his choice in his boyish days. It had always held a prominent place amid the recollections connected with his childhood. Forster says that “upon first seeing it as he came from Chatham with his father, and looking up at it with admiration, he had been promised that he might live in it himself, or some such house, when he came to be a man, if he would only work hard enough.” It is pleasant to record that this ambition was gratified in after life, when the dream of his boyhood was realised.

In the contiguous shrubbery was placed a Swiss Chalet, presented to Dickens by his friend Mr. Fechter, which arrived from Paris in ninety-four pieces, fitting like the joints of a puzzle. Our author was fond of working in this chalet during the summer months; and in it, much of the material of his latest work was prepared.

In sad association with Gadshill Place, we must refer to the unexpected Death of Charles Dickens, which occurred here on the 9th of June 1870. He had been feeling weary and fatigued for some days previous to this date, but had nevertheless continued to work with cheerfulness, writing in the chalet, in preparation of the sixth number of “Edwin Drood.” On the 8th of June, whilst at dinner, he was suddenly attacked with apoplexy, and never spoke afterwards; and on the evening of the following day—with one rolling tear and one deep sigh—his gentle spirit soared beyond these earthly shadows,

“Into the Land of the Great Departed, Into the Silent Land.”

An interval being allowed for refreshments at the Falstaff Inn, _à discrétion_, we may resume the road onwards to the nearest station of HIGHAM—about a mile distant—whence the South-Eastern Railway may be taken for the homeward journey. At five miles’ distance we reach Gravesend, which is situated at the foot of the hills, extending for some two miles on the south side of the Thames. This town is the boundary of the port of London, at which many outward and homeward bound vessels on foreign service receive or discharge their passengers and freight. As we pass this station we may remember that in chapter 57 of “David Copperfield,” Gravesend is referred to as the starting-point of Mr. Peggotty and his niece, emigrating to Australia, and accompanied by _Martha_, _Mrs. Gummidge_, _and the Micawber family_. The parting with his friends David describes as follows:—

“We went over the side into our boat, and lay at a little distance to see the ship wafted on her course. It was then calm, radiant sunset. She lay between us and the red light, and every taper line and spar was visible against the glow. A sight at once so beautiful, so mournful, and so hopeful, as the glorious ship lying still on the flushed water, with all the life on board her crowded at the bulwarks, and there clustering for a moment, bareheaded and silent, I never saw. Silent, only for a moment. As the sails rose to the wind, and the ship began to move, there broke from all the boats three resounding cheers, which those on board took up and echoed back, and which were echoed and re-echoed . . . Surrounded by the rosy light . . . they solemnly passed away.”

Continuing the homeward journey by South-Eastern Railway, the Rambler will arrive in due course at the station of GREENWICH, eighteen miles from Gravesend. Here alighting, a short walk eastward, on the south side of the line—through _London Street_, turning right by end of _Church Street_—will lead us to the entrance of Greenwich Park. This well-known place of popular resort was referred to by Dickens in his first contributions to the _Evening Chronicle_, 1835, which were afterwards collected under the name of “Sketches by Boz.” The sketch is entitled “_Greenwich Fair_,” and gives descriptions of the doings in the park at that festival, as holden aforetime in this locality—

“The principal amusement is to drag young ladies up the steep hill which leads to the Observatory, and then drag them down again at the very top of their speed, greatly to the derangement of their curls and bonnet-caps, and much to the edification of lookers-on from below.”

From the Park entrance we may now proceed towards the river by _Church Street_, on the left hand of which, past _London Street_, stands the Church of St. Alphege, a handsome edifice in classic style. The happy wedding of _Bella Wilfer_ and _John Rokesmith_, otherwise _Harmon_, here took place, in the presence of a “gruff and glum old pensioner” from the neighbouring hospital, with two wooden legs. We may also recall the circumstance of Mr. and Mrs. Boffin’s attendance, that worthy couple being hid away near the church organ.

Following the route northward, we may soon reach _King William Street_, by the river side, in which is situated Quartermaine’s Ship Tavern. This is the place where the “lovely woman” and her father once dined together on the occasion of their “innocent elopement.” (See “Our Mutual Friend,”