A Week's Tramp in Dickens-Land Part 33

The position of the residence "Overblow" is delightful. It stands on a little hill, the front having a fine view of the Thames valley and the marshes, the side looking on to the pretty hollow, in the centre of which stands Shorne Church, and the back being flanked in the distance by the beautiful Cobham Woods.

The reverend gentleman told us that he was a schoolfellow of the Right Honourable W. E. Gladstone and Sir Thomas Gladstone, his brother, at Eton, and had dined with the former at Hawarden on the occasion of his being thrice Premier, although he helped to turn his old friend out at Oxford in 1865, when he was succeeded by the Right Honourable Gathorne Hardy, now Lord Cranbrook.

Mr. Marsham was a neighbour of Charles d.i.c.kens, occasionally dined with him at Gad's Hill, and also met him at dinner sometimes at Mr. Hulkes's at the Little Hermitage. He spoke of him as a nice neighbour and a charming host, but he rarely talked except to his old friends. He frequently met d.i.c.kens in his walks, and had many a stroll with him, and always found him very interesting and amusing in his conversation. Once they were coming down from London together in a saloon carriage which contained about twelve or fourteen people. d.i.c.kens was sitting quietly in a corner. It was at the time that one of his serial novels was appearing, and most of the pa.s.sengers were reading the current monthly number. No one noticed d.i.c.kens, and when the train stopped at Strood, he said--"We did not have much talk." "No," said Mr. Marsham, "the people were much better engaged," at which d.i.c.kens laughed. Charles d.i.c.kens did Mr. Marsham the kindness to send him early proofs of his Christmas stories before they were published.

After d.i.c.kens's death (which he heard of in London, and never felt so grieved in his life) Mr. Charles d.i.c.kens the younger, and Mr. Charles Collins, his brother-in-law, came to select a piece of ground on the east side of Shorne churchyard, which was one of d.i.c.kens's favourite spots, but in consequence of the arrangements for the burial in Westminster Abbey this was of course given up.

Mr. Marsham was staying in London, at Lord Penrhyn's, at the time of d.i.c.kens's death, and Lady Louisa Penrhyn told him that by accident she was in Westminster Abbey at about ten o'clock on the morning of 14th June, the day of the funeral, and noticing some persons standing round an open grave, her ladyship went to see it, and was greatly impressed on looking in to read the name of Charles d.i.c.kens on the coffin, on which were numerous wreaths of flowers.

Our venerable friend possesses a souvenir of the novelist in the two exquisite plaster statuettes, about eighteen inches high, of "Night" and "Morning," which he purchased at the Gad's Hill sale.

The reverend gentleman spoke of the great improvements in travelling as compared with times within his recollection. He said that before the railways were constructed he went to London by boat from Gravesend, and the river was so bad that he had to keep his handkerchief to his nose all the way to avoid the stench. This was long before the days of Thames Embankments and other improvements in travelling by river and road.

FOOTNOTE:

[37] "Cobham Church [says a writer in the _Archaeologia Cantiana_, 1877]

is distinguished above all others as possessing the finest and most complete series of bra.s.ses in the kingdom. It contains some of the earliest and some of the latest, as well as some of the most beautiful in design. The inscriptions are also remarkable, and the heraldry for its intelligence is in itself a study. There is an interest also in the fact that for the most part they refer to one great family--the Lords of Cobham."

CHAPTER XIV.

A FINAL TRAMP IN ROCHESTER AND LONDON.

"You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, . . . you have been in every prospect I have ever seen since--on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets."--_Great Expectations._

"The magic reel, which, rolling on before, has led the Chronicler thus far, now slackens in its pace, and stops. It lies before the goal; the pursuit is at an end. . . . Good-night, and heaven send our journey may have a prosperous ending."--_The Old Curiosity Shop._

IT is the morning of Sat.u.r.day, the first of September, 1888, when our wonderfully pleasant week's tramp in "d.i.c.kens-Land" comes to an end. We have carried out every detail of our programme, without a single _contretemps_ to mar the enjoyment of our delightful holiday; we have visited not only the spots where the childhood and youth of Charles d.i.c.kens were pa.s.sed, and where the influence of the environment is specially traceable in the tone of both his earlier and later writings, but we have gone over and identified (as we proposed to do) a number of places in which he delighted, and often described in those writings, peopling them with airy characters (but to us most real), in whose footsteps we have walked. We have seen the place where he was born; we have seen nearly all the houses in which he lived in after life; and we have been over the charming home occupied by him for fourteen years, where his last moments pa.s.sed away under the affectionate and reverential solicitude of his sons and daughters, and of Miss Hogarth, his sister-in-law, "the ever-useful, self-denying, and devoted friend."

And now we linger lovingly about a few of the streets and places in "the ancient city," and especially in the precincts of the venerable Cathedral, all sanctified by the memory of the mighty dead. We fain would prolong our visit, but the "stern mandate of duty," as Immanuel Kant called it, prevails, and we bow to the inevitable; or as Mr.

Herbert Spencer better puts it, "our duty is our pleasure, and our greatest happiness consists in achieving the happiness of others." We feel our departure to-day the more keenly, as everything tempts us to stay. Listening for a moment at the open door--the beautiful west door--of the Cathedral, in this glorious morning in early autumn, we hear the harmonies of the organ and choir softly wafted to us from within; we feel the delicious morning air, which comes over the old Castle and burial-ground from the Kentish hills; we see the bright and beautiful flowers and foliage of the lovely catalpa tree, through which the sunlight glints; a solemn calm pervades the spot as the hum of the city is hushed; and, although we have read them over and over again, now, for the first time, do we adequately realize the exquisitely touching lines on the last page of _Edwin Drood_, written by the master-hand that was so soon to be stilled for ever:--

[Ill.u.s.tration: Doorway Rochester Cathedral]

"A brilliant morning shines on the old City. Its antiquities and ruins are surpa.s.singly beautiful, with the l.u.s.ty ivy gleaming in the sun, and the rich trees waving in the balmy air. Changes of glorious light from moving boughs, songs of birds, scents from gardens, woods and fields--or, rather, from the one great garden of the whole of the cultivated island in its yielding time--penetrate into the Cathedral, subdue its earthy odour, and preach the Resurrection and the Life. The cold stone tombs of centuries ago grow warm; and flecks of brightness dart into the sternest marble corners of the building, fluttering there like wings."

Having time to reflect on our experiences, we are able to understand how greatly our feelings and ideas have been influenced for good, both regarding the personality of the novelist and his writings.

In the course of our rambles we have interviewed many people in various walks of life who knew d.i.c.kens well, and their interesting replies, mostly given in their own words, vividly bring before our mental vision the _man_ as he actually lived and moved among his neighbours, apart from any glamour with which we, as hero-worshippers, naturally invest him. We see him in his home, beloved by his family, taking kindly interest, as a country gentleman, in the poor of the district, entering into and personally encouraging their sports, and helping them in their distress. To his dependents and tradesmen he was kind, just, and honourable; to his friends genial, hospitable, and true; in himself eager, enthusiastic, and thorough. No man of his day had more friends, and he kept them as long as he lived. His favourite motto, "courage--persevere," comes before us constantly. All that we heard on the other side was contained in the expression--"rather masterful!"

Rather masterful? Of course he was rather masterful--otherwise he would never have been Charles d.i.c.kens. What does he say in that unconscious description of himself, which he puts into the mouth of Boots at _The Holly-Tree Inn_, when referring to the father of Master Harry Walmers, Junior?

"He was a gentleman of spirit, and good-looking, and held his head up when he walked, and had what you may call Fire about him. He wrote poetry, and he rode, and he ran, and he cricketed, and he danced, and he acted, and he done it all equally beautiful. . . . He was a gentleman that had a will of his own and a eye of his own, and that would be minded."

Perfectly true do we find the summing up of his character, in his home at Gad's Hill, as given by Professor Minto in the last edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ (one of the most faithful, just, and appreciative articles ever written about d.i.c.kens):--"Here he worked, and walked, and saw his friends, and was loved and almost worshipped by his poorer neighbours, for miles around."

Although tolerably familiar with most of the writings of d.i.c.kens from our youth, and, like many readers, having our favourites which may have absorbed our attention to the exclusion of others, we are bound to say that our little visit to Rochester and its neighbourhood--our "d.i.c.kens-Land"--rendered famous all the world over in the novels and minor works, gives a freshness, a brightness, and a reality to our conceptions scarcely expected, and never before experienced. The faithful descriptions of scenery witnessed by us for the first time in and about the "quaint city" of Rochester, the delightful neighbourhood of Cobham, the glorious old city of Canterbury, the dreary marshes and other localities: the more detailed pictures of particular places, like the Castle, the Cathedral, its crypt and tower, the Bull Inn, the Vines, Richard Watts's Charity, and others--the point of the situation in many of these cannot be realized without personal inspection and verification.

And further, as by a sort of reflex action, another feeling comes uppermost in our minds, apart from the mere amus.e.m.e.nt and enjoyment of d.i.c.kens's works: we mean the actual benefits to humanity which, directly or indirectly, arise out of his writings; and we endorse the n.o.ble lines of dedication which his friend, Walter Savage Landor, addressed to him in his _Imaginary Conversations of Greeks and Romans_ (1853):--

"Friends as we are, have long been, and ever shall be, I doubt whether I should have prefaced these pages with your name, were it not to register my judgment that, in breaking up and cultivating the unreclaimed wastes of Humanity, no labours have been so strenuous, so continuous, or half so successful, as yours. While the world admires in you an unlimited knowledge of mankind, deep thought, vivid imagination, and bursts of eloquence from unclouded heights, no less am I delighted when I see you at the school-room you have liberated from cruelty, and at the cottage you have purified from disease."

We have before us--its edges browned by age--a reprint of a letter largely circulated at the time, addressed by d.i.c.kens to _The Times_, dated "Devonshire Terrace, 13th Novr., 1849," in which he describes, in graphic and powerful language, the ribald and disgusting scenes which he witnessed at Horsemonger Lane Gaol on the occasion of the execution of the Mannings. The letter is too long to quote in its entirety, but the following extract will suffice:--"I have seen habitually some of the worst sources of general contamination and corruption in this country, and I think there are not many phases of London life that could surprise me. I am solemnly convinced that nothing that ingenuity could devise to be done in this city in the same compa.s.s of time could work such ruin as one public execution, and I stand astounded and appalled by the wickedness it exhibits." The letter contains an urgent appeal to the then Home Secretary, Sir George Grey, "as a solemn duty which he owes to society, and a responsibility which he cannot for ever put away," to originate an immediate legislative change in this respect. Forster says in allusion to the above-mentioned letter:--"There began an active agitation against public executions, which never ceased until the salutary change was effected which has worked so well." d.i.c.kens happily lived to see the fruition of his labours, for the Private Execution Act was pa.s.sed in 1868, and the last public execution took place at Newgate on 26th May of that year. As indicative of the new state of feeling at that time, it may be mentioned that the number of spectators was not large, and they were observed to conduct themselves with unusual decorum.

It is valuable to record this as one of many public reforms which d.i.c.kens by his writings and influence certainly helped to accomplish. In his standard work on _Popular Government_ (1885), Sir Henry Sumner Maine says:-"d.i.c.kens, who spent his early manhood among the politicians of 1832, trained in Bentham's school, [Bentham, by the bye, being quoted in _Edwin Drood_,] hardly ever wrote a novel without attacking an abuse.

The procedure of the Court of Chancery and of the Ecclesiastical Courts, the delays of the Public Offices, the costliness of divorce, the state of the dwellings of the poor, and the condition of the cheap schools in the North of England, furnished him with what he seemed to consider, in all sincerity, the true moral of a series of fictions."

We bid a kindly adieu to the "dear old City" where so many genial friends have been made, so many happy hours have been pa.s.sed, so many pleasant memories have been stored, and for the time leave

"the pensive glory, That fills the Kentish hills,"

to take our seats in the train for London, with the intention of paying a brief visit to South Kensington, where, in the Forster Collection of the Museum, are treasured the greater portion of the ma.n.u.scripts which const.i.tute the princ.i.p.al works of Charles d.i.c.kens. It will be remembered that the Will of the great novelist contained the following simple but important clause:--"I also give to the said John Forster (whom he previously referred to as 'my dear and trusty friend') such ma.n.u.scripts of my published works as may be in my possession at the time of my decease;" and that Mr. Forster by his Will bequeathed these priceless treasures to his wife for her life, in trust to pa.s.s over to the Nation at her decease. Mrs. Forster, who survives her husband, generously relinquished her life interest, in order to give immediate effect to his wishes; and thus in 1876, soon after Mr. Forster's death, they came into the undisturbed possession of the Nation for ever.

Besides the ma.n.u.scripts there are numbers of holograph letters, original sketches (including "The Apotheosis of Grip the Raven") by D. Maclise, R.A., and other interesting memorials relating to Charles d.i.c.kens. _The Handbook to the Dyce and Forster Collections_ rightly says that:--"This is a gift which will ever have the highest value, and be regarded with the deepest interest by people of every English-speaking nation, as long as the English language exists. Not only our own countrymen, but travellers from every country and colony into which Englishmen have spread, may here examine the original ma.n.u.scripts of books which have been more widely read than any other uninspired writings throughout the world. Thousands, it cannot be doubted, who have been indebted for many an hour of pleasurable enjoyment when in health, for many an hour of solace when in weariness and pain, to these novels, will be glad to look upon them as each sheet was sent last to the printer, full of innumerable corrections from the hand of Charles d.i.c.kens."

The ma.n.u.scripts are fifteen in number, bound up into large quarto volumes, and comprise:--

1. _Oliver Twist_--two Volumes, with Preface to the _Pickwick Papers_, and matter relating to _Master Humphrey's Clock_.

2. _Sketches of Young Couples._

3. _The Lamplighter_, a Farce. This MS. is not in the handwriting of d.i.c.kens.

4. _The Old Curiosity Shop_--two Volumes, with Letter to Mr. Forster of 17th January, 1841, and hints for some chapters.

5. _Barnaby Rudge_--two Volumes.

6. _American Notes._

7. _Martin Chuzzlewit_--two Volumes, with various t.i.tle-pages, notes as to the names, &c., and dedication to Miss Burdett Coutts.

8. _The Chimes._

9. _Dombey and Son_--two Volumes, with t.i.tle-pages, headings of chapters, and memoranda.

10. _David Copperfield_--two Volumes, with various t.i.tle-pages, and memoranda as to names.

11. _Bleak House_--two Volumes, with suggestions for t.i.tle-pages and other memoranda.

12. _Hard Times_--with memoranda.

13. _Little Dorrit_--two Volumes, with memoranda, Dedication to Clarkson Stanfield, and Preface.

14. _A Tale of Two Cities_--with Dedication to Lord John Russell, and Preface.