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.)
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