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Whitehaven + Copeland Cumbria

Coming Home

A visit to a bookshop is never a waste of time: Michael Moon Old Books in Whitehaven is a case in point. The founding owner says, “I, Michael Moon, came to West Cumberland from Chorley in Lancashire in early 1965 to work at the new West Cumberland Hospital, the first new UK post War NHS hospital. I worked there for five years training as a State Registered Nurse … and took early retirement at 26.”

He says, “I took a fork in the road and started an old bookshop, this being my fourth location. I moved onto the main street – Lowther Street where all the banks once were – and have been here since 1997 and have outlived them all. Since then all the banks and the general post office have closed down, some later becoming unofficial illegal cannabis farms.”

On Michael Moon Old Books: “I have been selling books in 45 countries for 56 years long before the internet, and have written 10 books about the town. I have sold over 50,000 copies and republished another 30 titles, some as many as six times. We have sold over 750,000 books and have never been out of work. We have in stock 30,000 books housed on a mile of shelves in 13 rooms and have 9,000 books on ABE on the internet. I only work in the afternoons now. My son Peter runs the shop at other times and does the local house calls.” Rare finds include The Works in Architecture of Robert and James Adam (1931) stamped Buscot Park, Faringdon (Oxfordshire). Bright young thing Robert Heber-Percy was the early 20th century owner of Buscot Park. It is now owned by the National Trust.

Whitehaven A Directory for 1954 was adapted and republished by Michael in 2012. Why choose an out of date directory to republish? “Because it is full of useful material. Local information you would find hard to obtain anywhere else. Few directories contain as comprehensive a street directory as does this one, where the name of every householder is printed street by street, house number by house number, from one end to the other. If you ever thought of yourself as a statistic, think again.”

On his background: “I came from a Victorian Lancashire cotton town to an old coastal town I didn’t know, which has forgotten more history than most towns could ever lay claim to know. I live on Roper Street on the site of The Theatre Royal, a Georgian theatre. Opposite it is where the Brocklebanks started what became the Cunard Line. Further up the street at Acorn House seaman Peter Heywood lived, a mutineer on The Bounty. Across the road Carlisle Spedding lived, who sank the first undersea coal pit in the world, the Saltom Pit.” Carlisle was principal colliery steward to the Lowther landed family, responsible for their mining interests from about 1730 to 1755.

On heritage: “George Washington’s grandmother Mildred Warner Gale is buried across the road from my shop in St Nicholas churchyard. The exact location has been lost and sadly no headstone to mark the plot. Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver’s Travels and so on, spent his first five years here living in Whitehaven at the Bowling Green overlooking the busy harbour from which 300 locally built ships exported coal to Ireland – which has none – on every tide.”

On more heritage: “John Paul Jones who became Father of the American Navy was apprenticed here and invaded the town in 1778 after the War of Independence. When I came to work here we had over 100 working pubs – now just nine survive – several coalmines, a chemical works, a flourishing fishing industry and two railway stations. Like many old towns it was always self sufficient. Here you could buy a gun, a barrel of rum, a pair of clogs, a mile of railway lines, a long case clock or a barometer and speak to the men who made them. The long case clock in 10 Downing Street is a Whitehaven clock. The list goes on and on.”

What makes Whitehaven special? “The people, the age of the buildings, the first post medieval planned town, the third busiest harbour – regarding tonnage, mostly coal to Ireland – in the country after London and Bristol. My favourite building is 19 to 20 Irish Street which was designed by Sydney Smirke who also designed the Reading Room in the British Museum in the High Renaissance Italianate style. Will this do for now?”

Nikolaus Pevsner (1967) and Matthew Hyde (2010) sum up Whitehaven in The Buildings of England Guide to Cumbria: “A 17th and 18th century planned town of great charm, breezily colour washed and filled with the sound of seagulls. Favoured with coal deposits and a natural harbour, it was developed as a port by the Lowthers: first Sir Christopher who built a quay in 1634 by the village which clustered around Pow Beck where the Market Place is today, then Sir John a Fellow of the Royal Society at the time of Wren, Hooke and Evelyn and the rebuilding of London after the Great Fire. His instructions from London to his steward begin in 1666.” Boom times continued for over two centuries.

Whitehaven Cumbria

A Guide to Whitehaven by Edward Burrow (1907) and reprinted by Michael Moon (2020) states, “Whitehaven is a municipal and parliamentary borough and market town in St Bees’ Parish, Cumberland, and stands on the west coast, 12 miles south of Maryport and 28.5 miles from Keswick. Of its history prior to the year 1620, there are few authentic records. At that date it began to acquire importance under the influence of the Lowther family, its export of coal raising it to the position of a considerable seaport.”

As Michael points out, the main export was coal, especially to Dublin: iron and salt were also shipped out of Whitehaven. Other imports included tobacco, rum, grain, sugar and timber. Ships were built. But the seeds of the town’s decline were already sewn in the limited nature of this trading and the geographical isolation. Coal exports peaked at 400,000 tonnes in 1928 and ceased six decades later. Opening in 1947, Sellafield nuclear site provided a new source of employment but touristy Lake District cuts off Whitehaven.

Whitehaven CumbriaWhitehaven CumbriaSomerset House Whitehaven CumbriaWhitehaven CumbriaWhitehaven CumbriaWhitehaven CumbriaWhitehaven Cumbria

A Study in Conservation by Winston Barnett and Cyril Winskell (1977) traces the history of late 20th century conservation practice using Whitehaven as a case study. The boom and decline of the town are recorded. Copeland Borough Council designated Whitehaven Town Centre and High Street as Conservation Areas in 1969. Eventually around 250 buildings would be Listed. The Council and British Nuclear Fuels (owner of Sellafield) joined forces to launch a restoration and renewal project.

Winston and Cyril write, “Fortunately the Council’s portfolio of 50 or so Listed and historic Georgian properties, although spread over the town, were grouped in lengths of street frontages and not individually scattered throughout the terraces of houses, so it was considered that a major impact could be achieved in improving the town’s historic fabric if work was put in hand immediately on restoring the Council property.” Government funding was also provided.

Whitehaven’s significance as an early planned new town in England was recognised. Street patterns were retained and reinforced with sensitively designed infill development. Two decades later BDP led by architect Peter Shuttlesworth oversaw the regeneration of the harbour. Today, the harbour area is well maintained. The town centre, not so much. Houses and churches and other buildings of astonishing beauty lie empty. The comprehensive conservation of the town centre half a century ago has long faded.

Whitehaven Cumbria

It seems that a historic core, coastal location and apron of countryside are not enough to place Whitehaven next to Kendal on the tourist map. Surely the town could be marketed for architectural tours? The efforts of the 1970s are at risk of unravelling. Every other building cries out to be smartened up as a boutique hotel. Do none of the well paid Sellafield workers want to splash their cash on period property?

The houses of Whitehaven have a distinct character. Recurring features in the 18th century architecture include very tall staircase windows stretching up several storeys, gable fronted facades and undulating window placement. The most extraordinary architectural feature in the town occurs twice according to Peter Moon: a seashell overdoor in place of a fanlight. It bears a striking resemblance to the backdrop of the studio of Hans Holbein the Younger’s Henry VIII portrait in Petworth House, West Sussex. Many of the 19th century houses are designed in an ornate Italianate style. Pevsner calls them “swagger houses”.

Petworth House

Juxtapositions there are aplenty. An eye joltingly brilliant example is found on Irish Street. Sydney Smirke’s six bay (with three bay wing) palazzo abuts a single bay (wingless) vernacular house. The three storeys of the latter are the same height as the two lower storeys of the former. To give a London comparison, it’s like a large block of Kensington Palace Gardens and a little bit of Roupell Street Waterloo thrown together. At 74a Market Street a minute newsagents called The Baccy Shack fills the width of a doorcase.

Pevsner states, “At the far end of Catherine Street where it crosses Duke Street, is one of Whitehaven’s most distinctive houses, Somerset House, a splendid vista stopper. Built in 1750 for Samuel Martin, it is cubic, stone faced, with tripartite windows without surrounds. This unusual severity is offset by a charming porch with clustered Gothick details, tripartite again, with a perron. A long row of chimneys faces down Duke Street.” Somerset House is an extraordinary sight from the side elevation row of eight chimneys to the pattern book porch held up by fourposter bed spindly colonettes to the landing window swooping up through three storeys. In 2016 it was converted from offices to seven flats.

Pevsner continues, “Opposite Somerset House is The Cupola, a grand house of 1708 to 1710 converted in 1851 into the Town Hall by William Barnes of London. He made two storeys in place of the original three, five bays in place of seven, and added the portico of four sturdy Doric columns and rear stair extension. Venetian windows on the ground floor to left and right, probably of 1851.” This elegant building is now offices.

On 1 April 1974 Copeland Borough Council amalgamated with Allerdale Borough Council and Carlisle City Council to form a new unitary authority called Cumberland Council. The Borough of Copeland had been formed by the merger of Whitehaven Borough, Ennerdale and Millom Rural Districts. The name Copeland is derived from the Norse word “kaupland” which means “bought land” rather than inherited land. According to Public Health England statistics, Copeland was the fattest local authority area in England in 2014 with three quarters of the population being stout. In 2018, the Office for National Statistics recorded that Copeland had the third highest median income of British local authorities, after the City of London and the London Borough of Tower Hamlets. This median does hide the considerable disparity between Sellafield employees and the rest of Copeland’s population.

Alan Routledge digs deeper in Copeland The Postcard Collection (2015), “Copeland was originally a barony set up by William II after the final conquest of Cumberland in 1092. Over the following years the barony was split into more convenient districts to govern.” On the 1974 amalgation he comments, “The conurbation of Whitehaven was industrial and Ennerdale and the rural parts of Millom were agricultural in nature. The Borough was headquartered at Whitehaven and it’s not surprising that there were political tensions in the Borough which led to differences over what needed to be done and where. People became tightly parochial in their outlook and sadly the Borough was rarely considered as being equal in its parts.”

“The Borough is close to 40 miles north to south and varies up to a maximum of 18 miles in width, between the Irish Sea coast and the tops of England’s highest mountains,” according to Alan. “The coast is 40 miles in length with miles of sandy beaches in the south and the high sandstone cliffs of St Bees to the north. One third of Copeland lies within the Lake District National Park and, in addition to the high mountains, also has Wastwater, England’s deepest lake. On 31 March 2023 after 49 years of operation, Copeland Borough Council was disbanded and replaced with Cumberland Council, one of two larger unitary authortieis covering Cumbria.” A 1610 map of Cumberland hanging in Michael Moon Old Books shows Copeland and Copeland Forest. Michael says, “Copeland is the coastal strip north of Furness and south of Workington. It is rarely referred to nowadays.”

Laterally Copeland is disappearing legally, linguistically and literally.

Copeland Cumbria

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The Grange Estate + Festival Alresford Hampshire

Antics Cono Sur

It’s one of the greatest flowerings of Greek Revival architecture in Europe. Yet it wasn’t purpose built: it’s a radical remodelling of an earlier building. This is the story of how a Restoration house in rural Hampshire became a cosmopolitan Greek temple (make that two Greek temples: minor and major) and after a few additions and subtractions evolved into a theatre and a theatrical backdrop for an opera festival.

“My father bought the estate in 1964,” recalls The Honourable Mark Baring on a private tour of the house (it’s not normally open to the public) accompanied by The Grange Festival’s Chief Operations Officer Michael Moody. “The Grange was out of Baring family ownership for 30 years. As a six year old I remember rooms with huge great pillars and bits of plaster in some disrepair. My father had a sale of contents which included the fireplaces. The stairs were sold and curiously they came back! My great grandfather had sold all the pictures.” In 1975 English Heritage took over the grey elephant that is The Grange. Mark has managed The Grange Estate, which his family own, since 2014.

He relates, “My father the 7th Baron Ashburton bought back the house and park for £157,000. That was for 660 acres and a crumbling house. Big houses were impossible to live in then under taxation rules. The house now gives so much to the feel of the opera!” Michael agrees: “It’s all about the setting in the landscape.” The inaugural opera festival was held on the estate in 1998. Four years later the orangery picture gallery (minor Greek temple) was opened as a theatre. Studio E were the architects for the conversion. The conservation architect was Dubliner John Redmill who smartly advised reinstating the Robert Smirke façade. “This reconnects the two temples,” John explains, “and acts as a screen to hide the modern building behind.”

When Mark’s ancestor Alexander Baring bought the estate in 1817 he commissioned Robert Smirke to add a single storey west wing and Charles Robert Cockerell to terminate the wing with a conservatory dining room (which would later become that orangery picture gallery). Robert was a pupil of George Dance the Younger and a leading light in the Greek Revival craze. His younger brother Sydney, also an architect, designed several Italianate villas stuccoed to the nines in Kensington Palace Gardens, London.

The main block of The Grange (major Greek temple) is the work of architect William Wilkins. In 1804 then owner Henry Drummond appointed the trailblazing Greek Revivalist to transform his Restoration house into an English Acropolis. The five bay fluted Doric portico (which swallows up the entire east elevation) is based on the Temple of Hephaestus in Athens. Michael explains, “This drastic rebuilding resulted in some windowless rooms!” The introduction of a high entablature meant the servants’ quarters in the attic lost their dormers. Form doesn’t always follow function. Henry Drummond wasn’t impressed and sold up.

“‘Situated on a gentle declivity, and sloping towards a fine piece of living water, embosomed in wood and approached by magnificent avenues, it has the effect in the landscape of those ideal scenes which, indulged only in the painter’s imagination are hardly expected to be realised in nature.’ Thus The Grange was described in the Gardeners’ Magazine of 1826 after the architects William Wilkins and Charles Cockerell had made it the principal monument in Europe of neoclassicism and the supreme achievement of their profession at the time. As such it has been of importance ever since,” John comments with just a dash of hyperbole. Whether the servants would have agreed is a moot point.

“The 1664 house was designed by William Samwell, one of Charles II’s three Court architects, for Sir Robert Henley,” says Michael. “It was all about very clever maths. The double height entrance hall was like the hall in the Queen’s House, Greenwich. It was a 27 foot cube. The bedrooms on either side were 18 feet square. The corner closets were nine feet square.” A Running Times Master Sheet is pinned to the wall of the basement kitchen dressing room, the last room on the private tour: “Le Nozze di Figaro Run Times, Monday to Saturday, 17.30 Curtain Up Part One (one hour 37 minutes), 19.07 Curtain Down Part One, Interval (one hour 40 minutes) 20.47 Curtain Up Part Two (one hour 37 minutes), 10.24 Curtain Down Part Two.” The Irish Georgian Society Review 2024 carried an obituary to John Redmill. “He frequently indulged his love of opera,” wrote Mary Narvell, “with attendance at music festivals.”

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Gunnersbury Park House + Gunnersbury House West London

All Features Great and Small

Why are two mansions standing cheek by jowl in west London? It must be the only park in the capital with a pair of very substantial houses almost touching each other. A complicated history of dual and overlapping ownership is the answer. It all began in the 17th century when lawyer Sir John Maynard commissioned Inigo Jones’s amanuensis John Webb to design a large square house inspired by Palladio’s Villa Badoerin in Venetia. The defining feature of this red brick with white stone highlights building was a five bay double height recessed balcony above a ground floor breakfront and below a massive pediment.

A later owner was Princess Amelia, second daughter of George II. The Temple (reflected in the Round Pond) and the Bathhouse are the two most significant extant works she had carried out. Her Royal Highness bought the house and estate in 1762 and lived there until her death 26 years later. The Doric portico fronted Temple in red brick and white stone to match the house was probably designed by Sir William Chambers in circa 1760. The Bathhouse is another estate folly, later described in 19th century sales particulars as “an ornamental diary in gothic style with a cold bath”. In 1801 the house was demolished and the estate sold in lots. Builder Alexander Morrison accumulated the lion’s share of 31 hectares while timber merchant Stephen Cosser acquired a cub’s share of three hectares.

Fashionably rusted freestanding signs strategically positioned across the park inform visitors of its history. One reads: “The Temple. The magnificent 18th century Temple is thought to have been built for Princess Amelia, daughter of George II. She used it as a place of entertainment, enjoying views that reached as far as the Kew Gardens pagoda and beyond. Alexander Copland, the estate’s next owner, played billiards and ate desserts there.”

Alexander appointed his cousin the well known architect Sir Robert Smirke to design Gunnersbury Park House (now called the Large Mansion). A few metres away from the Large Mansion and sharing the same building line, Alexander’s neighbour Stephen built Gunnersbury House (now called the Small Mansion). This long two storey building has bow windows on either side of a lawn facing verandah trimmed with Chinese bells below the eaves. After banker Nathan Rothschild bought the Large Mansion in 1835, he commissioned Sir Robert’s younger brother Sydney to enlarge his house. The three storey Large Mansion lives up to its current name. An enfilade of lawn facing ritzy reception rooms backs onto a cast iron galleried atrium. Both buildings are stuccoed.

Around the same time as designing the Large Mansion, Sir Robert worked up drawings for the Oxford and Cambridge Club on Pall Mall. The previous decade, he had designed Normanby Hall in Lincolnshire for the Sheffield family. Samantha Cameron, Britain’s former First Lady, was brought up at Normanby Hall and her father Sir Reginald Sheffield is still squire of the manor. Sir Robert is best known for the British Museum. The next generation of the Smirke dynasty would design many of the town mansions in Kensington Palace Gardens.

Pharma fortune maker Thomas Farmer bought the Small Mansion in 1827 and appointed father and son practice William Fuller and William Willner Pocock to extend the house. The Pococks also designed the Gothic Ruins Folly below Princess Amelia’s Bathhouse. In 1889, the Rothschilds bought the Small Mansion and Gunnersbury Park once again fell under single ownership. After the renaissance years of the Rothschilds (their heir Evelyn died fighting in Palestine in 1917) the estate and its buildings were bought by the local councils.

A plaque in the arch between the two mansions states: “Gunnersbury Park. Opened for the use of the public 21 May 1926 by the Right Honourable Neville Chamberlain MP Minister of Health. Purchased by the Town Councils of Action and Ealing one fourth of the cost being contributed by the Middlesex County Council. On 1 April 1927 the Brentwood and Chiswick Urban District Council joined the Action and Ealing Councils in the ownership and management of the park.” The Large and Small Mansions were converted to community use. The former building is restored; the latter, under restoration. Princess Amelia’s Bathhouse, the Temple (exterior only), Orangery, Round Pond, Horseshoe Pond and Gothic Ruins Folly have all roared back to life. Sydney Smirke’s East Stables lurk in the shadows waiting their turn.

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Pilgrimage + Rochester Kent

Pilgrim’s Progression

Proverbs 4:18, “The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.”

Charles Dickens writes in his unfinished last novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, “A brilliant morning shines on the old city. Its antiquaries and ruins are surpassingly beautiful with a lusty ivy gleaming in the sun, and the rich trees waving in the balmy air.” The sun shines brighter in Rochester; it’s a good day for a pilgrimage, whatever that may entail. “A pilgrimage is a journey, a quest,” advises John Armson in his Rochester Pilgrim Guide (1999). He continues, “The cathedral church has been a place of pilgrimage for many centuries.” Prepare for an avalanche of pictures. The Cathedral Church of Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary is the supermodel of English ecclesiastical architecture: it’s got good features and is very photogenic. “Growing in Christ since AD 604,” states the Order of Service for Sunday Eucharist. Free of hobgoblins and foul fiends, the nave is filled with the sound of a rehearsal of Handel’s Messiah to be performed tonight and tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow. The town is the catwalk of English settlements with beauties parading wherever you gaze.

According to the Rochester Pilgrim Guide, “Like most old churches, the building is based on the shape of a cross lying flat on the ground. The cross, of course, is so shaped because it had to carry the human form when people were crucified – as Jesus Christ was crucified. The cathedral is a crucifix in stone. It represents, symbolically, the body of Jesus Christ – the nave is his torso, the transepts are his arms, the sanctuary is his head. If the sun is shining it will be filled with light. The cream coloured stone from Caen in Normandy glows in the sunshine.” The writer suggests, “Christians can remind themselves of all this by making the sign of the cross on their own bodies.”

The immaculate state of the cathedral contrasts with the ruinous presence of the neighbouring castle. Coffins are piled up against the ramparts in a Larkinesque gesture: “dead lie round”. The Norman Gundulf Bishop of Rochester (1077 to 1108) commenced the construction of the castle. His contemporary William de Corneil Archbishop of Canterbury built its keep. The keep – an accidentally minimalist structure with gaping holes in place of windows and doors – has been reinvented as an adventurous walk up spiral staircases and along loggias and gangways and battlements overlooking the cavernous void below and across the former city beyond.

Looking down on the southwest front of the cathedral is Minor Canon Row, England’s best preserved terrace. It was built in 1722 for the lucky cathedral clergy. The Spitalfields Trust has taken it over and now every precious square centimetre is virtuously munificently pristinely gloriously restored. The doorsteps and basement areas of each townhouse are protected by unusual timber balustrades. A parapet rising from the brick front and side elevations conceals narrow hipped pitches visible to the rear: each three bay house is the width of two pitches. The top floor of the three storey over basement houses has casement windows to the rear. In The Mystery of Edwin Drood it is alliteratively renamed Minor Canon Corner, the home of Reverend Septimus Crisparkle and his widowed mother.

Rochester High Street does kooky (Store 104 and Victoria’s Books, Yarns, Coffee), cookery (Pastures New) and cookies (The Candy Bar). Its shopfronts are well dressed. Established in 1985, or so the sign says, is The Candy Bar with its suitably candyfloss pink shopfront. A calorific display contains dozens of Mrs Bridges pots (banoffee curd; celebration Champagne marmalade; chilli jam; mango chutney with lime and ginger; Scottish raspberry preserve) and very sweet stuff (cherry Bakewell fudge; coconut ice; fruit fondant creams, peanut butter fudge; raspberry Prosecco fudge; Rochester rock). It’s as if the “Lumps of Delight Shop” in The Mystery of Edwin Drood has come to life. Pavement presentations are nakedly ambitious: colourful tailor’s dummies pose outside vintage shop Fieldstaff. Rochester boasts England’s largest secondhand bookshop (Baggins Book Bazaar). Pied wagtails living up to their name (wagging their tails) flutter down the pavements in a fuss of monochromatism.

Occupying leaning jettied plastered buildings on High Street are The Cheese Room Deli and Café and The Cheese Room Botanicals Restaurant and Bar run by Chris and Julie Small. “We love cheese! It’s just so versatile, tasty, comforting, grownup and sexy!” Lunch is aubergine fritters with chipotle mayo followed by – naturally – the five British cheeseboard. Crackers and quince accompany Baron Bigod, Bowyers, Kent Blue, Kidderton Ash and Vintage Red Leicester. And when in KentChapel Down Flint Dry 2020, a blend of Bacchus and Chardonnay. A street corner violinist serenades customers in this upper room. Pudding comes later, perfect lavender cupcakes from Hobbs and Tee’s stall on High Street. Regarding the building housing The Cheese Room Botanicals, John Oliver notes in Dickens’ Rochester (1978), “This was the home of Mr Tope, the Chief Verger of the cathedral in The Mystery of Edwin Drood. It is the last building mentioned in the writings of Charles Dickens.”

It has a lot of competition but Eastgate House wins the prize for best building on High Street. Masquerading as the Nun’s House in The Mystery of Edwin Drood and as Westgate in The Pickwick Papers, “This fine Elizabethan building was erected in 1590 to 1591 for St Peter Burke, who was a paymaster in the Queen’s Navy,” according to John Oliver. Fragments of late 16th century wall painting survive in a top floor room. Eastgate House is now The Charles Dickens Centre. There’s a surprising addition in its grounds: the Dickens’ Chalet. This Swiss mountain folly is where the author penned The Mystery of Edwin Drood. It was relocated from his home Gads Hill on the edge of Rochester. Actually make that The Guildhall for High Street’s finest building. It is after all a Sir Christopher Wren masterpiece dating from 1687. The Guildhall is now a lively museum. Charles Dickens’ character Pip in Great Expectations describes its interior, “The hall was a queer place, I thought, with higher pews in it that in any church… and with some shining black portraits on the walls…”

The novelist spent some of his childhood on the outskirts of the town when his father got a job in nearby Chatham Dockyard. Dickensian is a literal adjective in Rochester. A plaque on the front wall of The Bull Hotel states “This ‘good house’ with ‘nice beds’ described by Mr Jingle in Pickwick Papers is also ‘The Blue Boar’ in ‘Great Expectations’.” It still retains a coaching inn appearance: a regular Georgian façade gives way to two return wings featuring a merry assortment of weatherboarding, half timbered jettied and gabled projections, box sash tripartite windows, Crittal windows and a rectangular oriel window. The seminal film of Great Expectations is David Lean’s 1946 version starring the Northern Irish born actress Valerie Hobson as Estella.A man on High Street hands our tracts, holding them like playing cards. One of them is titled “To Be A Pilgrim”. Its opening line is, “When we think of a pilgrim, we have in mind somebody who goes on a journey or pilgrimage to a holy site.” It then refers to the allegory of The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan (1678). The tract concludes, “To be a pilgrim you have to read the Bible, which is the history of mankind from the creation of the present heavens and earth to the creation of the new heavens and earth and what you need to do to enter into the latter, as written by the prophets and apostles inspired by the Holy Spirit.” Standing outside the War Memorial in front of the cathedral, the golden voiced Daniel McGuinness sings Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car”.

The Six Poor Travellers House on High Street with its pointy gables was where a dozen poverty stricken pilgrims could lay their weary heads and enjoy an evening meal. Each traveller was sent on his way the following morning with 4d in their pocket. A plaque on the street front states: “Richard Watts Esq deceased Annon Domini 1579. Relief for travellers to be had after the death of Mary his wife which charity the help of Thomas Pagitt her second husband assured Anno Domini 1586. Died 21 December 1589.” Sir Richard Watts was a businessman and MP for Rochester in the late 1500s. He entertained Queen Elizabeth; when asked for Her Majesty’s opinion of his house in the shadow of the castle she elicited her grudging approval “satis” Latin for “enough”. The knight can’t have been too offended: he renamed his home Satis House. Rebuilt in the 18th century, it’s now King’s School. Charles Dickens immortalised the High Street hostelry in his story The Seven Poor Travellers, the writer being the seventh.

A plaque on the façade of a long low lying red brick building on St Margaret’s Street, above the cathedral just up from Boley Hill past the Catalpa tree (American Indian Bean Tree) reads: “This house for the reception education and employment of ye poor of this Parish was erected AD 1724. Toward which the Honourable Sir John Jennings and Sir Thomas Colby representatives in Parliament for this City voluntarily contributed £200. It was finish’d and is supported out of a perpetuall [sic] charity formerly given by Mr Richard Watts for that purpose. Mr Harnell and Church. Mr Mordaunt Warden.” Richard Watts Charities continue to operate to this day.

Rising above the almshouses is The Coopers Arms on the corner of Love Lane and hilly St Margaret’s Street. The drinking tradition on this site dates back to the St Andrew’s Priory monks of the 1100s, renowned brewers of ale and wine. The current inn opened in 1543. Whiskey and vodka aren’t the only spirits to be found inside: a ghoul rattles round, a monk who hasn’t quite crossed over yet. To echo the words of Philip Larkin’s, “ghostly silt”.

Restoration House on Crow Lane overlooks The Vines, a 19th century public park. A sign outside says, “Built in 1587. It is said that Charles II stayed here on the night of 28 May 1660 at his Restoration. The ‘Satis House’ of Great Expectations.” It’s the fabled home of the world’s most famous jilted bride. Charles Dickens writes, “Within a quarter of an hour we came to Miss Havisham’s house, which was of old brick, and dismal, and had a great many iron bars to it. Some of the windows had been walled up; of those that remained, all the lower were rustily barred. There was a courtyard in front, and that was barred, so, we had to wait, after ringing the bell, until someone should come to open it.”

“Another church,” writes Philip Larkin (1992 to 1985) in his poem Church Going. Up further from The Coopers Arms stands St Margaret’s Church commanding views across the River Medway. Like much of the town’s heritage it is a medley of ages and architects and aspirations. The tower dates from the 1400s; the nave and chancel were designed by Sydney Smirke in the 1820s; a decade later, architect Richard Hussey added the sanctuary with side vestries. “A serious house on serious earth,” as the poet observes. Gravestones have found a new use: steps up to the lawn.

All Saints Church crowns the hilltop of Frindsbury which overlooks Rochester from the northern bank of the River Medway. It stands in splendid isolation above quarried chalk cliffs that look like a manmade inland Dover coastline. There’s been a place of worship on this site for over a millennium. The current flint and ragstone and later rubble and limestone building dates back to the 14th century. Several of the graveyard tombs are Listed in their own right. The Miller Monument is an early 19th century sarcophagus design with a Greek key frieze. An adjacent cemetery includes Commonwealth War Graves such as that of Private H M Wills, “Royal Army Medical Corps, 5 November 1918.”

John Armson once more, “We live in a finite, limited space and time: we each live in a particular part of the world, and we life for three score years and 10 (perhaps more, perhaps less). We get glimpses beyond these limitations every now and again, but they are just that – only glimpses. They may be fragmentary, not very coherent, not very continuous. But they give us the sense that there is something beyond this life in space and time. This is the religious sense. It is distant and unclear, perhaps; but often, too, it is a bright and glowing impression.” He concludes, “Of course there is more travelling to do – a person’s whole life is a pilgrimage.”

I Corinthians 13:12, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face…”