A Week's Tramp in Dickens-Land Part 24
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[25] This house is appropriately named "Highland House," and was also the property of John d.i.c.kens's landlord, in which the family then and for many years after resided. At the time referred to Mr. Pearce owned not only the above-mentioned houses, but all the surrounding property.
CHAPTER X.
AYLESFORD, TOWN MALLING, AND MAIDSTONE.
"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."--_Edwin Drood._
"Oh, the solemn woods over which the light and shadow travelled swiftly, as if Heavenly wings were sweeping on benignant errands through the summer air; the smooth green slopes, the glittering water, the garden where the flowers were symmetrically arranged in cl.u.s.ters of the richest colours, how beautiful they looked!"--_Bleak House._
ANOTHER delightful morning, fine but overcast, favours our tramp in this neighbourhood. We are up betimes on Monday, and take the train by the South-Eastern Railway from Strood station to Aylesford. It is a distance of nearly eight miles between these places; and the intermediate stations of any note which we pa.s.s on the way are Cuxton (about three miles) and Snodland (about two miles further on), which are two large villages. As the railway winds, we obtain excellent views of the chalk escarpments on the series of hills opposite, these being the result of centuries of quarrying. The land on either side of the river is marshy and intersected by numerous water-courses. These grounds are locally termed "saltings," caused by the overflow of the Medway at certain times, and are used as sanitaria for horses which require bracing.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Aylesford]
Cuxton is at the entrance of the valley between the two chalk ranges of hills which form the water-parting of the river Medway. As Mr Phillips Bevan rightly observes--"this valley is utilized for quarrying and lime-burning to such an extent, that it has almost the appearance of a northern manufacturing district," but it is a consolation, on the authority of Sir A. C. Ramsay, to know that "man cannot permanently disfigure nature!"
At Snodland the river becomes narrower, and the scenery of the valley is more picturesque. Early British and Roman remains have been found in the district, and according to the authority previously quoted--"In one of the quarries, which are abundant, Dr. Mantell discovered some of the most interesting and rarest chalk fossils with which we are acquainted, including the fossil Turtle (_Chelonia Benstedi_)."
Alighting from the train at Aylesford station, we have but a few minutes to ramble by the river, the banks of which are brightened by the handsome flowers of the purple loosestrife. We notice the charming position of the Norman church, which stands on an eminence on the right bank of the Medway, overlooking the main street, and is surrounded by fine old elm trees--the bells were chiming "Home, sweet home," a name very dear to d.i.c.kens. The Medway ceases to be a tidal river at Allington beyond Aylesford, and one or other of the weirs at Allington or Farleigh (further on) may have suggested the idea of "Cloisterham Weir" in _Edwin Drood_; but they are too far distant (as shown in Chapter V.) to fit in with the story. The ancient stone bridge which spans the Medway at Aylesford is seven-arched; a large central one, and three smaller ones on either side. One or two of the arches on the left bank are filled up, as though the river had silted on that side. Mr. Roach Smith considers the bridge to be a very fine specimen of mediaeval architecture. It is somewhat narrow, but there are large abutments which afford shelter to foot pa.s.sengers.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Aylesford Bridge]
We are much inclined to think that Aylesford Bridge was in the mind of d.i.c.kens when he makes the Pickwickians cross the Medway, only a wooden bridge is mentioned in the text for the purpose perhaps of concealing ident.i.ty. The place is certainly worth visiting, and the approach to it by the river is exceedingly picturesque.
Aylesford is supposed to be the place where the great battle between Hengist and Vortigern took place. Near to it, at a place called Horsted, is the tomb of Horsa, who fell in the battle between the Britons and Saxons, A.D. 455. Names of d.i.c.kens's characters, Brooks, Joy, etc., occur at Aylesford. There is a very fine quarry here, from whence the famous Kentish rag-stone--"a concretionary limestone"--is obtained. It forms the base, and is overlaid by the Ha.s.sock sands and the river drift. In the distance is seen the bold series of chalk rocks const.i.tuting the ridge of the valley.
Just outside Aylesford we pa.s.s Preston Hall, a fine modern Tudor mansion standing in very pretty grounds, and belonging to Mr. H. Bra.s.sey.
We now resume our tramp towards the princ.i.p.al point of our destination, Town Malling,[26] or West Malling, as it is indifferently called (the "a" in Malling being p.r.o.nounced long, as in "calling"). The walk from Aylesford lies through the village of Larkview, and is rather pretty, but there is nothing remarkable to notice until we approach Town Malling. Here it becomes beautifully wooded, especially in the neighbourhood of Clare House Park, the Spanish or edible chestnut, with its handsome dark green lanceolate serrate leaves, and clumps of Scotch firs, with their light red trunks and large cones, the result of healthy growth, which would have delighted the heart of Mr. Ruskin, being conspicuous. On the road we pa.s.s a field sown with maize, a novelty to one accustomed to the Midlands. The farmer to whom it belongs says that it is a poor crop this year, owing to the excess of wet and late summer, but in a good season it gives a fine yield. We are informed that it is used in the green state as food for cattle and chickens.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The High St Town Malling]
A pleasant tramp of about three miles brings us to Town Malling, which stands on the Kentish rag. The approach to Town Malling is by a waterfall, and there are the ruins of the old Nunnery, founded by Bishop Gundulph in 1090, in the place. East Malling is a smaller town, and lies nearer to Maidstone. Our object in visiting this pretty, old-fas.h.i.+oned Kentish country town, is to verify its ident.i.ty with that of Muggleton of the _Pickwick Papers_. Great weight must be attached to the fact that the present Mr. Charles d.i.c.kens, in his annotated Jubilee Edition of the above work, introduces a very pretty woodcut of "High Street, Town Malling," with a note to the effect that--
"Muggleton, perhaps, is only to be taken as a fancy sketch of a small country town; but it is generally supposed, and probably with sufficient accuracy, that, if it is in any degree a portrait of any Kentish town, Town Malling, a great place for cricket in Mr. Pickwick's time, sat for it."
The reader will remember that when at the hospitable Mr. Wardle's residence at Manor Farm in Dingley Dell (by the bye, there is a veritable "Manor Farm" at Frindsbury, near Strood, with ponds adjacent, which may perhaps have suggested the episode of Mr. Pickwick on the ice), an excursion was determined on by the Pickwickians to witness a grand cricket match about to be played between the "All Muggleton" and the "Dingley Dellers," a conference first took place as to whether the invalid, Mr. Tupman, should remain or go with them.
"'Shall we be justified,' asked Mr. Pickwick, 'in leaving our wounded friend to the care of the ladies?'
"'You cannot leave me in better hands,' said Mr.
Tupman.
"'Quite impossible,' said Mr. Snodgra.s.s."
The result of the conference was satisfactory.
"It was therefore settled that Mr. Tupman should be left at home in charge of the females, and that the remainder of the guests under the guidance of Mr. Wardle should proceed to the spot, where was to be held that trial of skill, which had roused all Muggleton from its torpor, and inoculated Dingley Dell with a fever of excitement.
"As their walk, _which was not above two miles long_,[27] lay through shady lanes and sequestered footpaths, and as their conversation turned upon the delightful scenery by which they were on every side surrounded, Mr. Pickwick was almost inclined to regret the expedition they had used, when he found himself in the main street of the town of Muggleton."
The chronicle of _Pickwick_ then proceeds to state that--
"Muggleton is a corporate town, with a mayor, burgesses, and freemen; . . . an ancient and loyal borough, mingling a zealous advocacy of Christian principles with a devoted attachment to commercial rights; in demonstration whereof, the mayor, corporation, and other inhabitants, have presented at divers times, no fewer than one thousand four hundred and twenty pet.i.tions, against the continuance of negro slavery abroad, and an equal number against any interference with the factory system at home; sixty-eight in favour of the sales of livings in the Church, and eighty-six for abolis.h.i.+ng Sunday trading in the streets."
On the occasion of their second visit to Manor Farm to spend Christmas, the Pickwickians came by the "Muggleton Telegraph," which stopped at the "Blue Lion," and they walked over to Dingley Dell.
a.s.suming, as has been suggested by Mr. Frost in his _In Kent with Charles d.i.c.kens_, that Dingley Dell is somewhere on the eastern side of the river Medway, within fifteen miles of Rochester,--Mr. William James Budden (a gentleman whom we met at Chatham) gave as his opinion that it was near Burham,[28]--then it would require a much greater walk than that ("which was not above two miles long") to reach Town Malling (leaving out of the question the fact that Burham is only about six miles from Rochester instead of fifteen miles, as the waiter at the Bull told Mr. Pickwick in reply to his enquiry), whereby we reluctantly for the time arrive at the conclusion,--as Mr. Frost did before us--that Dingley Dell as such near Town Malling cannot be identified.
On another visit to "d.i.c.kens-Land" Mr. R. L. Cobb suggested that Cobtree Hall, near Aylesford, was the prototype of Dingley Dell. It may have been; but except one goes as the crow flies, it is more than two miles distant from Town Malling. But as Captain Cuttle would say--we "make a note of it."
After all, Dingley Dell is no doubt a type of an English yeoman's hospitable home. There are numbers of such in Kent, Warwicks.h.i.+re, Worcesters.h.i.+re, Devons.h.i.+re, and other counties, and the one in question may have been seen by d.i.c.kens almost anywhere.
There is, at any rate, one objection to Muggleton being Town Malling--the latter is not, as mentioned in the text, "a corporate town." The neighbouring corporate towns which might be taken for it are Faversham, Tunbridge Wells, and Seven Oaks; but, as Mr. Rimmer, in his _About England with d.i.c.kens_, points out--"These have no feature in common with the enterprising borough which had so distinguished itself in the matter of pet.i.tions." On the other hand, there is _one_ very strong reason in favour of Town Malling, and that is its devotion to the n.o.ble old English game of cricket. So far as we could make out, no town in Kent has done better service in this respect. But more of this presently.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Cob Tree Hall]
So many friends recommended us to see Cobtree Hall that, after the foregoing was written, we determined to follow their advice, and on a subsequent occasion we take the train to Aylesford and walk over, the distance being a pleasant stroll of about a mile. We were well repaid.
The mansion, formerly called Coptray Friars, belonging to the Aylesford Friary, is an Elizabethan structure of red brick with stone facings prettily covered with creeping plants, standing on an elevated position in a beautifully wooded and undulating country overlooking the Medway and surrounded by cherry orchards and hop gardens. Major Trousdell was so courteous as to show us over the building, which has been altered and much enlarged during the last half century. Internally there is something to favour the hypothesis of its being the type of Manor Farm, Dingley Dell. Such portions of the old building remaining, as the kitchen, are highly suggestive of the gathering described in that good-humoured Christmas chapter of _Pickwick_ (xxviii.), and there is a veritable beam to correspond with Phiz's plate of "Christmas Eve at Mr.
Wardle's." "The best sitting-room, [described as] a good long, dark-panelled room with a high chimney-piece, and a capacious chimney up which you could have driven one of the new patent cabs, wheels and all,"
may still be discerned in the handsome modern dining-room, with carved marble mantel-piece of ma.s.sive size formerly supplied with old-fas.h.i.+oned "dogs." The views from the bay-window are very extensive and picturesque. The mansion divides the two parishes of Boxley and Allington, the initials of which are carved on the beam in the kitchen.
Externally, there is much more to commend it to our acceptance. Remains of a triangular piece of ground, with a few elm-trees, still survive as "the rookery," where Mr. Tupman met with his mishap, and to our delight there is "the pond," not indeed covered with ice, as on Mr. Pickwick's memorable adventure, but crowded with water-lilies on its surface; its banks surrounded by the fragrant meadow-sweet and the brilliant rose-coloured willow herb. Furthermore we were informed, by Mr. Franklin of Maidstone, that the "Red Lion," which formerly stood on the spot now occupied by Mercer's Stables, is locally considered to be the original of "a little roadside public-house, with two elm-trees, a horse-trough, and a sign-post in front;" where the Pickwickians sought a.s.sistance after the breakdown of the "four-wheeled chaise" which "separated the wheels from the body and the bin from the perch," but were inhospitably repulsed by the "red-headed man and the tall bony woman," who suggested that they had stolen the "immense horse" which had recently played Mr.
Winkle such pranks. Finally, in a pleasant chat with the Rev. Cyril Grant, Vicar of Aylesford, and his curate, the Rev. H. B. Boyd (a son of A. K. H. B.), we elicited the fact that Cobtree Hall is locally recognized as the original of Manor Farm. Nay more, in Aylesford churchyard a tomb was pointed out on the west side with the inscription:--"Also to the memory of Mr. W. Spong, late of Cobtree, in the Parish of Boxley, who died Nov. 15th, 1839," who is said to have been the prototype of the genial and hospitable "old Wardle."
True, neither the distance to Rochester nor to Town Malling fits in with the narrative, but this is not material. d.i.c.kens, with the usual "novelist's licence," found it convenient often-times to take a nucleus of fact, and surround it with a halo of fiction, and this may have been one of many similar instances. His wonderfully-gifted and ever-facile imagination was never at fault.
So on our return journey we console ourselves by reading the following description, in chapter vi. of _Pickwick_, of the first gathering of the Pickwickians at their host's, one of the most delightful bits in the whole book, and "make-believe," as the Marchioness would say, that we have actually seen Manor Farm, Dingley Dell.
"Several guests who were a.s.sembled in the old parlour, rose to greet Mr. Pickwick and his friends upon their entrance; and during the performance of the ceremony of introduction, with all due formalities, Mr. Pickwick had leisure to observe the appearance, and speculate upon the characters and pursuits, of the persons by whom he was surrounded--a habit in which he in common with many other great men delighted to indulge.
"A very old lady, in a lofty cap and faded silk gown,--no less a personage than Mr. Wardle's mother,--occupied the post of honour on the right-hand corner of the chimney-piece; and various certificates of her having been brought up in the way she should go when young, and of her not having departed from it when old, ornamented the walls, in the form of samplers of ancient date, worsted landscapes of equal antiquity, and crimson silk tea-kettle holders of a more modern period. The aunt, the two young ladies, and Mr.
Wardle, each vying with the other in paying zealous and unremitting attentions to the old lady, crowded round her easy-chair, one holding her ear-trumpet, another an orange, and a third a smelling-bottle, while a fourth was busily engaged in patting and punching the pillows, which were arranged for her support. On the opposite side sat a bald-headed old gentleman, with a good-humoured benevolent face,--the clergyman of Dingley Dell; and next him sat his wife, a stout, blooming old lady, who looked as if she were well skilled, not only in the art and mystery of manufacturing home-made cordials, greatly to other people's satisfaction, but of tasting them occasionally, very much to her own. A little hard-headed, Ripstone pippin-faced man, was conversing with a fat old gentleman in one corner; and two or three more old gentlemen, and two or three more old ladies, sat bolt upright and motionless on their chairs, staring very hard at Mr. Pickwick and his fellow-voyagers.
"'Mr. Pickwick, mother,' said Mr. Wardle, at the very top of his voice.
"'Ah!' said the old lady, shaking her head; 'I can't hear you.'
"'Mr. Pickwick, grandma!' screamed both the young ladies together.
"'Ah!' exclaimed the old lady. 'Well; it don't much matter. He don't care for an old 'ooman like me, I dare say.'
"'I a.s.sure you, madam,' said Mr. Pickwick, grasping the old lady's hand, and speaking so loud that the exertion imparted a crimson hue to his benevolent countenance; 'I a.s.sure you, ma'am, that nothing delights me more, than to see a lady of your time of life heading so fine a family, and looking so young and well.'
A Week's Tramp in Dickens-Land Part 24
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