130 THE DOVER ROAD 



tackle peeping over the roof-tops ; amphibious corners 

 where a smell of the sea, largely intermixed with 

 odours of pitch, tar, and rope, clings about everything ; 

 where men with a nautical lurch come swinging along 

 the pavements, and where, if you glance in at the 

 doorways which are nearly always open in summer, 

 you will see full-rigged models of ships standing on 

 sideboards, supported perhaps by a huge Family Bible, 

 and flanked, most certainly, with strange outlandish 

 shells, branches of coral, and other spoils of far-off lands. 

 But these things are not patent to he who goes 

 only along the main road, turning to neither right nor 

 left ; and it is only a little exploration of byways 

 that will convince you of Mr. Pickwick's summary 

 remaining still substantially correct. " The princij^al 

 productions " of the three towns of Rochester, Strood, 

 and Chatham, according to Mr. Pickwick, " appear to be 

 soldiers, sailors, Jews, chalk, shrimps, officers, and 

 dockyard-men. The commodities chiefly exposed for 

 sale in the public streets are marine-stores, hardbake, 

 apples, flat-fish, and oysters." All of which might well 

 have been written to-day, so closely does the description 

 still apply ; but when he goes on to remark that " the 

 streets present a lively and animated appearance, 

 occasioned chiefly by the conviviality of the military," 

 he clearly speaks of by-past times. "It is truly 

 delightful," he sa^^s, "to a philanthropic mind to see 

 these gallant men staggering along under the influence 

 of an overflow, both of animal and ardent spirits." 

 Delightful indeed ! But since those days Tommy 

 Atkins has been evolutionized into a very different 

 creature. 



XXV 



To plunge into mediaeval legends at Chatham will 

 seem the strangest of transitions, and Chatham Parish 

 Church will appear to most people the last place likely 

 to have a story. Yet in demolishing the old building to 



