Oh, Rochester!
Bill writes: In late January we took the train to Rochester. Known mostly for its connections to Charles Dickens, it is an old cathedral and castle town as well. I'd visited there on my own during my last sabbaticals back in 2001. The city has changed a bit from my last trip there. There's a big casino going up on the edge of town and a "Fairies and Trolls" fetish wear store as you enter Rochester. Things seem to be sliding downhill there, and this was confirmed by the sad fact that the Dickens Centre has permanently closed. This was a sort of Disney "Hall of Presidents" version of Dickens life and characters recreated in his old house. By peeking through the back garden (we've gotten very good at trespassing since we've been here), we could just make out his cottage that was moved there from nearby Gads Hill.
There is a museum nearby that does house some of the items related to Dickens. Also fascinating to me was material they collected related to French prisoners of war during the Napoleonic Wars. Prisoners were kept for long periods in converted cargo ships anchored off shore in the river under terrible conditions.
The land-based French prisoners were far luckier. Because they were artistic and industrious (and to keep from going insane), they would carve items out of bone. Some of these items were simple things like sets of dice, letter openers, and combs. But gradually the prisoners began making more intricate carvings, including little mechanical devices which they would then sell to the prison wardens for sale to the public, earning the prisoners money for better scraps of food. Eventually, with the help of French officers in the prisons, this was organized into a full industry, with proper workshops and tools, and even craft shops set up in towns like Leek and Staffordshire that sold their goods directly to the public. Here's a sample ship that they carved.
Although Dicken's house is closed, fortunately they've left the cathedral in place and it remains open to the public. The cathedral was founded by Bishop Justus in 604 AD at the request of Augustine, and was added on to over the years. The best view, I think, is from a window in the castle across the road.
Inside, some of the treasures of the cathedral are the wonderfully preserved romanesque arches, a magnificent pipe organ, and part of a 13th Century wall painting illustrating a wheel of fortune--one of the finest medieval wall paintings in England.
There is even some very old graffiti, testifying to its long use.
Below the cathedral lies its large undercroft.
Afterwards, we went to the castle. Built in the late 11th Century by Gundolf, Bishop of Rochester, King John laid seige to it in the 13th Century. It was rebuilt inthe 14th Century. Yet it suffered further attacks over the years, was used as a quarry for building material in the 17th Century, became a park in the 19th Century, until is was finally preserved for the public by English Heritage in the 20th. (Speaking of seiges, the last entrance to the Castle was at 3:45 and we arrived at 3:48. At first they didn't want to let us in, but after some pleading they relented, the gates were opened, and the castle was ours.)
Inside, it's a ruin--just the stone shell that survived the attack. The hall, state apartments, musician's gallery, etc. are all gone.
The one constant in anyone who looks at castles, is this sight of the poorly lit steps. Not exactly warmly beckoning, and it would have been even less attractive without the safety rail (which not all castle ruins thoughtfully provide).
Still, by following the stone steps from level to level, you can explore most of the castle, and even get to the top. England, being a less litigious country, assumes visitors to famous sites have a little common sense and won't automatically hurl themselves off the battlements. Hence, you'll notice that there isn't very much in the way of a guard rail along the castle rim, 120 above the town.
By the time we left the castle, it was later afternoon and growing dark, and we'd both grown cold. As for myself, after a day walking outdoors through the cold, whipping winds blowing off the river Medway, my nose had gradually turned from pink to red, and my arches had changed from concave to convex, making it difficult for me to stand in one place without rocking backwards and forwards, so that I'd taken on the appearance of a child's socker-bopper blowup clown. Fortunately, before any passing schoolchildren got the wrong idea about me, I recalled a nice tea shop across from the cathedral when I'd been here several years earlier, and knowing Aline's fondness for a good cream tea, was able to track it down fairly easily. One cheery thing to notice is that outside of London, meals (and teas) are often half the price they are in London.
From tea, it was off to the railway station, and so to home and central heat once again.
There is a museum nearby that does house some of the items related to Dickens. Also fascinating to me was material they collected related to French prisoners of war during the Napoleonic Wars. Prisoners were kept for long periods in converted cargo ships anchored off shore in the river under terrible conditions.
The land-based French prisoners were far luckier. Because they were artistic and industrious (and to keep from going insane), they would carve items out of bone. Some of these items were simple things like sets of dice, letter openers, and combs. But gradually the prisoners began making more intricate carvings, including little mechanical devices which they would then sell to the prison wardens for sale to the public, earning the prisoners money for better scraps of food. Eventually, with the help of French officers in the prisons, this was organized into a full industry, with proper workshops and tools, and even craft shops set up in towns like Leek and Staffordshire that sold their goods directly to the public. Here's a sample ship that they carved.
Although Dicken's house is closed, fortunately they've left the cathedral in place and it remains open to the public. The cathedral was founded by Bishop Justus in 604 AD at the request of Augustine, and was added on to over the years. The best view, I think, is from a window in the castle across the road.
Inside, some of the treasures of the cathedral are the wonderfully preserved romanesque arches, a magnificent pipe organ, and part of a 13th Century wall painting illustrating a wheel of fortune--one of the finest medieval wall paintings in England.
There is even some very old graffiti, testifying to its long use.
Below the cathedral lies its large undercroft.
Afterwards, we went to the castle. Built in the late 11th Century by Gundolf, Bishop of Rochester, King John laid seige to it in the 13th Century. It was rebuilt inthe 14th Century. Yet it suffered further attacks over the years, was used as a quarry for building material in the 17th Century, became a park in the 19th Century, until is was finally preserved for the public by English Heritage in the 20th. (Speaking of seiges, the last entrance to the Castle was at 3:45 and we arrived at 3:48. At first they didn't want to let us in, but after some pleading they relented, the gates were opened, and the castle was ours.)
Inside, it's a ruin--just the stone shell that survived the attack. The hall, state apartments, musician's gallery, etc. are all gone.
The one constant in anyone who looks at castles, is this sight of the poorly lit steps. Not exactly warmly beckoning, and it would have been even less attractive without the safety rail (which not all castle ruins thoughtfully provide).
Still, by following the stone steps from level to level, you can explore most of the castle, and even get to the top. England, being a less litigious country, assumes visitors to famous sites have a little common sense and won't automatically hurl themselves off the battlements. Hence, you'll notice that there isn't very much in the way of a guard rail along the castle rim, 120 above the town.
By the time we left the castle, it was later afternoon and growing dark, and we'd both grown cold. As for myself, after a day walking outdoors through the cold, whipping winds blowing off the river Medway, my nose had gradually turned from pink to red, and my arches had changed from concave to convex, making it difficult for me to stand in one place without rocking backwards and forwards, so that I'd taken on the appearance of a child's socker-bopper blowup clown. Fortunately, before any passing schoolchildren got the wrong idea about me, I recalled a nice tea shop across from the cathedral when I'd been here several years earlier, and knowing Aline's fondness for a good cream tea, was able to track it down fairly easily. One cheery thing to notice is that outside of London, meals (and teas) are often half the price they are in London.
From tea, it was off to the railway station, and so to home and central heat once again.
posted by Bill | 11:10 AM
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