A Week's Tramp in Dickens-Land Part 7

In the little billiard-room near the dining-room was a one-sided couch standing by the window, which did not seem to please the master of Gad's Hill Place. He said to Mr. Homan one day, "Whenever I see that couch, it makes me think the window is squinting." The result was that Mr. Homan had to make a window-seat instead.

On one occasion, when our informant was waiting in the dining-room for some orders from Miss Hogarth, he saw d.i.c.kens walking in the garden with a lady, to whom he was telling the story of how as a boy he longed to live in Gad's Hill Place, and determined to purchase it whenever he had an opportunity.

Mr. Homan mentioned that the act drop painted by Clarkson Stanfield, R.A., for _The Lighthouse_ and the scene from _The Frozen Deep_, painted by the same artist, which adorned the hall at Gad's Hill Place, and which fetched such enormous sums at the sale, were technically the property of the purchaser of Tavistock House, but he said, "Perhaps you would like to have them, Mr. d.i.c.kens," and so they continued to be the property of the novelist.

The valuation for Probate was made by Mr. Homan, and he subsequently sold for the executors the furniture and other domestic effects at Gad's Hill Place. The art collection was sold by Messrs. Christie, Manson, and Woods. There was a very fine cellar of wine, which included some magnums of port of rare vintage. Mr. Homan purchased a few bottles, and gave one to a friend, Dr. Tamplin of London, who had been kind to his daughter.

At a dinner-party some time afterwards at the Doctor's, a connoisseur being present, the magnum in question was placed on the table, the guests being unaware from whence it came. Reference was made to the choice quality of the wine. "Yes," said the connoisseur, "it _is_ good--very fine. I never tasted the like before, except once at Gad's Hill Place."

Mr. Homan recollects seeing among the plate two oak cases which were not sold, containing the silver figures for dining-table emblematic of spring, summer, and autumn. These were the presents of a Liverpool admirer who wished to remain anonymous. The incident is alluded to in Forster's _Life_, the correspondent being described as "a self-raised man, attributing his prosperous career to what d.i.c.kens's writings had taught him at its outset of the wisdom of kindness and sympathy for others, and asking pardon for the liberty he took in hoping that he might be permitted to offer some acknowledgment of what not only had cheered and stimulated him through all his life, but had contributed so much to the success of it." The letter enclosed 500, but d.i.c.kens declined this, intimating to the writer that if he pleased to send him any small memorial in another form, he would be glad to receive it.

The funeral was conducted by Mr. Homan, who mentioned that d.i.c.kens's instructions in his Will were implicitly followed, as regards privacy and unostentation. It was an anxious time to him, in consequence of the changes which were made in the arrangements, the interment being first suggested to take place at St. Nicholas's Cemetery, then at Shorne, then at Rochester Cathedral, and finally at Westminster Abbey. The mourners, together with the remains, travelled early in the morning by South Eastern Railway from Higham Station to Charing Cross, where a procession, consisting of three mourning-coaches and a hea.r.s.e, was quietly formed. There was neither show nor public demonstration of any kind. On reaching Westminster Abbey, about half-past nine o'clock, the procession was met by Dean Stanley in the Cloisters, who performed the funeral service. A journalist being by accident in the Abbey at the time of the funeral, Mr. Homan remarked that he became almost frantic when he heard who had just been buried, at having missed such an opportunity.

Mr. Homan possesses several souvenirs of Gad's Hill Place, presented to him by the family, including Charles d.i.c.kens's walking-stick, and photographs of the interior and exterior of the house and the chalet.

We were courteously received by the Rev. Robert Whiston, M.A., who resides at the Old Palace, a beautiful seventeenth-century house, abounding with oak panelling and carving, on Boley Hill, bequeathed in 1674, by Mr. Richard Head, after the death of his wife, to the then Bishop of Rochester and his successors, who were "to hold the same so long as the church was governed by Protestant Bishops." This residence was sold by permission of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, together with the mansion at Brinley, in order to help to pay for the new palace of Danbury in Ess.e.x.

Mr. Whiston was a friend of Charles d.i.c.kens, and is one of the oldest inhabitants of Rochester. He was formerly Head-Master of the Cathedral Grammar, or King's, School of Henry VIII., an office which he resigned in 1877. Many years previously, Mr. Whiston published _Cathedral Trusts and their Fulfilment_, which ran through several editions, and was immediately followed by his dismissal from his mastership, on the ground that he had published "false, scandalous, and libellous" statements, and had libelled "the Chapter of Rochester and other Chapters, and also the Bishop." Much litigation followed--appeals to the Court of Chancery, the Court of Queen's Bench, and Doctors' Commons, which resulted in his replacement in office; and then a second dismissal, followed by his pleading his own cause for five days at Doctors' Commons against eminent counsel, and after three years of litigation he was fully reinstated in his office. The result at Rochester, for which Mr. Whiston contended, was "an increase of 19 for each of the twenty scholars, and of 35 for each of the four students, a total of 520 a year, and the restoration of the six bedesmen of the Cathedral, with 14 13_s._ 4_d._ a year each, who had disappeared since 1810, making altogether 608 a year." Reforms were effected at other cathedrals, and handsome testimonials--one from Australia--were presented to Mr. Whiston.

A characteristic paper, ent.i.tled "The History of a certain Grammar School," in No. 72 of _Household Words_, dated 9th August, 1851, gives a sketch of Mr. Whiston's labours, and of the reforms which he effected.

He is thus referred to:--

"But the Reverend Adolphus Hardhead was not merely a scholar and a schoolmaster. He had fought his way against disadvantages, had gained a moderate independence by the fruits of early exertions and constant but by no means sordid economy; and, while disinterested enough to undervalue abundance, was too wise not to know the value of money. He was an undoubted financialist, and never gave a farthing without doing real good, because he always ascertained the purpose and probable effect of his charity beforehand. While he cautiously shunned the idle and undeserving, he would work like a slave, with and for those who would work for themselves; and he would smooth the way for those who had in the first instance been their own pioneers, and would help a man who had once been successful, to attain a yet greater success."

Anthony Trollope, in _The Warden_, also thus refers to this gentleman:--"The struggles of Mr. Whiston have met with sympathy and support. Men are beginning to say that these things must be looked into."

_Punch_ has also immortalized Mr. Whiston, for in the issue of 29th January, 1853, there is a burlesque account with designs of "A stained gla.s.s window for Rochester Cathedral." The design is divided into compartments; each containing a representation in the mediaeval fashion of a "Fytte" in "Ye Gestes of Maister Whyston ye Confessour."

Mr. Whiston had dined at Gad's Hill several times, and said that nothing could be more charming than d.i.c.kens's powers as a host. Some years after his death, by a fortunate circ.u.mstance, a large parcel of letters, written by the novelist, came into the hands of Mr. Whiston, who had the pleasure of handing them to Miss Hogarth and Miss d.i.c.kens, by whom they were published in the collection of letters of Charles d.i.c.kens.

Thomas Millen of Rochester informed us that he knew Charles d.i.c.kens. His (Millen's) father was a hop-farmer, and about the years 1864-5 lived at Bridgewood House, on the main road from Rochester to Maidstone. One afternoon in the autumn, d.i.c.kens, accompanied by Miss Hogarth and his daughters, Mary and Kate, drove along the road, and stopped to admire a pear tree which was covered with ripe fruit. Millen happened to be in the garden at the time, and while noticing the carriage, d.i.c.kens spoke to him, and referred to the very fine fruit. Millen said, "Will you have some, sir?" to which d.i.c.kens replied, "Thank you, you are very good, I will." He gave him some pears and some roses. d.i.c.kens then said, "You have not the pleasure of knowing me, and I have not the pleasure of knowing you. I am Charles d.i.c.kens; and when you pa.s.s Gad's Hill, I shall take it as a favour if you will look in and see my place." Millen replied, "I feel it to be a great honour to speak to you, sir. I have read most of your works, and I think _David Copperfield_ is the master-piece. I hope to avail myself of your kind invitation some day."

d.i.c.kens laughed, wished Millen "Good-day," and the carriage drove on towards Maidstone.

"Some little time after," said Millen, "I was going to visit an uncle at Gravesend, and drove over with a one-horse trap by way of Gad's Hill. As I came near the place, I saw Mr. d.i.c.kens in the road. He said, 'So you are here,' and I mentioned where I was going. He took me in, and we went through the tunnel, and by the cedars, to the chalet, which stood in the shrubbery in front of the house. He showed me his work there--a ma.n.u.script on the table, and also some proofs. They were part of _Our Mutual Friend_, which was then appearing in monthly numbers; and on that morning a proof of one of the ill.u.s.trations had arrived from Mr. Marcus Stone. It was the one in which 'Miss Wren fixes her idea.' I was then about sixteen or seventeen, and d.i.c.kens said, 'You are setting out in life; mind _you_ always fix your idea.' He asked me what I was going to be, and I said a farmer. He said, 'Better be that than an author or poet;' and after I had had two gla.s.ses of wine, he bade me 'good-bye.'"

We were kindly favoured with an interview by the Misses Drage, of No. 1 Minor Canon Row, daughters of the late Rev. W. H. Drage, who was Curate of St. Mary's Church, Chatham, from 1820 to 1828, and lived during that time in apartments at No. 3 Ordnance Terrace, next door to the d.i.c.kens family. Afterwards their father was Vicar of St. Margaret's, Rochester, for many years, and resided in their present home. About the year 1850, the Vicar, being interested in the daughter of one of his parishioners, whom he was anxious to get admitted into a public inst.i.tution in London--a penitentiary or something of the kind--wrote to Miss (now the Baroness) Burdett Coutts, who was a patroness or founder, or who occupied some position of influence in connection therewith. In answer to the reverend gentleman's application, a letter was received from Charles d.i.c.kens, then residing at Devonshire Terrace, who appeared to be a.s.sociated with Miss Burdett Coutts in the management of the inst.i.tution, proposing to call at Minor Canon Row on a certain day and hour. The letter then concluded with these remarkable words:--"I trust to my childish remembrance for putting your initials correctly."

The letter was properly addressed "The Rev. _W. H._ Drage," and it is interesting to record this circ.u.mstance as showing d.i.c.kens's habitual precision and excellent memory. The future novelist was about eleven years old when he left Chatham (1823), consequently a period of twenty-seven years or more must have elapsed since he knew his father's neighbour as Curate there; yet, notwithstanding the multiplicity and diversity of his occupations during the interim, his recollection after this long period was perfectly accurate.

It is scarcely necessary to add that the interview took place (probably d.i.c.kens came down from London specially), and that the Vicar obtained admission for his _protegee_. The younger Miss Drage, who was in the room at the time of d.i.c.kens's visit, particularly noticed what a beautiful head the novelist's was, and in her enthusiasm she made a rough sketch of it while he was talking to her father.

In conversation with the present Mr. Charles d.i.c.kens on a subsequent occasion regarding this circ.u.mstance, he informed me that there was an inst.i.tution of the kind referred to, "A Home," at Shepherd's Bush, in which his father took much interest. Forster also says in the _Life_ that this Home "largely and regularly occupied his time for several years."

We heard from a trustworthy authority, _Y. Z._, at Rochester, some particulars respecting an interesting custom at Gad's Hill Place. On New Year's Eve there was always a dinner-party with friends, and a dance, and games afterwards. Some of the games were called "Buzz," "Crambo,"

"Spanish Merchant," etc. Claret-cup and other refreshments were introduced later, and at twelve o'clock all the servants came into the entrance-hall. Charles d.i.c.kens then went in, shook hands with them all round, wished them a Happy New Year ("A happy new year, G.o.d bless us all"), and gave each half-a-sovereign. This custom was maintained for many years, until a man-servant--who used to travel with d.i.c.kens--disgracefully betrayed his trust,--robbed his master, in fact,--when it was discontinued, and the name of the man who had thus disgraced himself was never allowed to be mentioned at Gad's Hill.

The same authority spoke of the long walks that d.i.c.kens regularly took after breakfast--usually six miles,--but he gave these up after the railway accident at Staplehurst, which, it will be remembered, occurred, on the "fatal anniversary," the 9th June, 1865. During one of these walks, he fell in with a man driving a cart loaded with manure, and had a long chat with him, the sort of thing he frequently did (said our informant) in order to become acquainted with the brogue and feelings of the working people. When d.i.c.kens went on his way, one of the man's fellow-labourers said to him, "Do you know that that was Charles d.i.c.kens who spoke to you?" "I don't know who it was," replied the man, "but he was a d----d good fellow, for he gave me a shilling."

Our informant also referred to a conversation between d.i.c.kens and some of his friends at Gad's Hill, respecting the unhappy marriages of actors. Twenty such marriages were instanced, and out of these only two turned out happily. He said that Charles d.i.c.kens at home was a quiet, una.s.suming man. He remembers on one occasion his saying, in relation to a war which was then going on, "What must the feelings of a soldier be, when alone and dying on the battle-field, and leaving his wife and children far away for ever?"

A TRUE GHOST STORY RELATING TO MISS HAVISHAM'S HOUSE.

"I live in an old red-brick mansion, nearly covered with ivy--one of those picturesque dwellings with high-pitched roofs and ornamental gables, which were scattered broadcast over England in the days of good Queen Bess. Every stranger looking at it exclaims, 'That house must have a history and a ghost!' Many a story has been told of the ghost which has from time to time been seen, or said to have been seen, within its walls; and many a servant has, from fear, refused service in this so-called haunted house.

"On the 28th May, one thousand six hundred and sixty, Charles the Second sojourned and slept here. This being the eve of 'The Restoration,' a new name was given to the then old house, which name it has since retained. Charles, having knighted the owner (Sir Francis Clarke), departed early the next morning for London.

"There are secret pa.s.sages _in_ the house, and, under ground, _from_ the house. From the room in which the king slept, a secret pa.s.sage through one of the lower panels of the wainscot, leads to various parts of the house. This pa.s.sage is so well concealed that I occupied the house some years before it was discovered. I had occasion to make a plan of the house, and the inside and outside not agreeing, disclosed the s.p.a.ce occupied by the unexplored pa.s.sage. The jackdaws had forestalled me in my discovery, and had had undisturbed possession for two centuries, having got access through a hole under the eaves of the roof. They had deposited _several bushels_ of sticks. They had not been the only tenants, as skeletons and mummies of birds, etc., were also found.

"I came into possession of this old house in December 1875, and on the 27th of April, 1876, slept in it for the first time. At ten o'clock on that night, my family retired to rest; having some letters to write, I sat up later. At a quarter to twelve, I was startled by a loud noise--a sort of rumbling sound, which appeared to proceed from the hall. I left my writing and went to the hall, and found that the noise proceeded from the staircase, but I could see nothing unusual.

"The staircase is one of those so often described as being 'wide enough to drive a carriage and pair up,' with ma.s.sive oak posts and bal.u.s.trades. The walls are covered with tapestry, given to the house by 'The Merry Monarch,' after his visit. An oak chest or two, and some high-backed chairs on the landings, picture to one a suitable habitation for a ghost. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I had no belief in ghosts, and commenced an investigation of this extraordinary noise.

"Could it be rats, or mice, or owls? No; the noise was ten times louder than could possibly proceed from these creatures; besides, I knew there were no rats in the house. The clever builder of the house had filled all the s.p.a.ce between the ceilings and floors with silver sand, which rendered it impossible for a rat or mouse to make pa.s.sages. To p.r.i.c.k a hole in a ceiling is to have a continuous stream of sand run down, as from an hour-gla.s.s.

"The noise was repeated, but much louder (two drum-sticks upon a large drum would not have made more noise), and I was able to localize it, still I could see nothing. I thought some one had fallen on the stairs, and I shouted 'Who is there?' A reply came 'Hush!'--first softly, and then very loud--too loud for a human voice. As no person was visible, I was puzzled, and went up-stairs by a back staircase, and ascertained that none of my family had left their bedrooms, and that certainly no trick was being played me.

"The same rumbling, rolling sound was repeated; and as I stood on the top of the great staircase, I felt a little uncomfortable, but not frightened.

The noise seemed to proceed from a large carved oak coffer or chest (as old as the house), which stood on a landing, about half-way up the stairs.

I approached the chest, and from it appeared to come again the word 'Hush!' Could it be the wind whistling through a crack? No; it was far too loud for any such explanation. I opened the lid of the chest and found it empty. Again the noise, now from _under_ the chest. I was just strong enough to move the chest; I turned it over and slid it down the stairs on to the next landing. Again the noise, and again the 'Hush!' which now appeared to come from the floor where the coffer had stood.

"I felt I would rather have had some one with me to a.s.sist in my investigation, and to join me in making the acquaintance of the ghost; but, although my sensations were probably the most uncomfortable I ever experienced, I was determined, if possible, to unearth the mystery.

"The light was imperfect, and I went to another part of the house for a candle to enable me to examine the floor. In my absence the noise was repeated louder than ever, and not unlike distant thunder. On my return, I was saluted with 'Hush!'

which I felt convinced came from a voice immediately under the floor. By the light of the candle I examined the dark oak boards, and discovered what appeared to be a trap door about two feet six inches square. The floor at some time had been varnished, and the cracks, or joints of the trap, had been filled and sealed with the varnish. I now hoped I had found the habitation of my troublesome and noisy guest. I procured a chisel and cut the varnished joint, and found that there was a trap door, as I supposed. By the aid of a long screwdriver I was able to move the door, but at that moment a repet.i.tion of the noise, immediately under me, made me hesitate for a moment to try and raise it. With feelings better imagined than described, I raised the lid, and looked into a dark chasm. All was still, and I heard the cathedral bell tolling the hour of midnight. A long African spear was in the corner near me, and I struck this into the opening. I tied a string to the candlestick to lower it into the opening, but at this moment I was startled, and was for the first time nervous, or I may say, frightened; but this had better remain for another chapter.

"So far I have not in the smallest degree exaggerated or overdrawn any one of the matters I have recounted. Every word has been written with the greatest care to truth and accuracy.

"S. T. A."

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. In _Great Expectations_ it 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."

FOOTNOTES:

[4] Mr. Aveling subsequently informed me that the vessel in which the king took his departure continued to be used in the Royal Navy for many years as a lighter--its name being altered to the "Royal Escape."