bitat in keeping with all
traditions; and further, that the said pigeons be forthwith made into
pies for the use and behoof of the deserving poor of the ancient city of
Rochester.

Mention has been made of the fact that the Castle and grounds are the
property of the Corporation of Rochester. They were acquired by purchase
in 1883 from the Earl of Jersey for L8,000, and the occasion was
celebrated by great civic rejoicings.[6] The Corporation are not only to
be congratulated on the wisdom of their purchase ("a thing of beauty is
a joy for ever"), but also on the excellent manner in which the grounds
are maintained--pigeons excepted. The gardens, with closely-cut lawns,
abound with euonymus, laurustinus, bay, and other evergreens, together
with many choice flowers. The single red, or Deptford pink (_Dianthus
Armeria_), grows wild on the walls of the Castle. There is a tasteful
statuette of her Majesty, under a Gothic canopy, near the entrance,
which records her Jubilee in 1887. The inscriptions on three of the four
corners are appropriately chosen from Lord Tennyson's _Carmen
Saeculare_:--

To commemorate the

=Jubilee of Queen Victoria=,

1887.

L. LEVY, MAYOR.

"Fifty years of ever-broadening commerce!"

"Fifty years of ever-brightening science!"

"Fifty years of ever-widening empire!"

There is free admission to the grounds through a handsome modern Norman
gateway, but a trifling charge of a few pence is made for permission to
enter the Keep, which has convenient steps ascending to the top. From
the summit of the Keep, there are magnificent views of the valley of the
river Medway, the adjacent hills, Rochester, Chatham, and the vicinity.
The Cathedral, Jasper's Gatehouse, and Restoration House, are also
noteworthy objects to the lover of Dickens. As Mr. Philips Bevan says,
and as we verified, the views inside at midday, when the sun is
streaming down, are "very peculiar and beautiful."

Dickens's first and last great works are both associated with the
Castle, and it is referred to in several other of his writings. We can
fancy, more than sixty years ago, the eager and enthusiastic
Pickwickians, in company with their newly-made acquaintance, Mr. Alfred
Jingle, seated outside the four-horse coach,--the "Commodore," driven
possibly by "Old Chumley,"--dashing over old Rochester Bridge, to "the
lively n