he spot to which the young
men [Edwin and Neville] had repaired [presumably the Esplanade] to
watch the storm." There is, however, no Weir nearer than Allington, at
which place the tide of the Medway stops, and Allington is a
considerable distance from Rochester, probably seven or eight miles. How
well the good Minor Canon's propensity for "perpetually pitching himself
headforemost into all the deep water in the surrounding country," and
his "pilgrimages to Cloisterham Weir in the cold rimy mornings," are
brought into requisition to enable him to obtain the watch and pin.

"He threw off his clothes, he plunged into the icy
water, and swam for the spot--a corner of the
Weir--where something glistened which did not move
and come over with the glistening water drops, but
remained stationary. . . . He brought the watch to
the bank, swam to the Weir again, climbed it, and
dived off. He knew every hole and corner of all
the depths, and dived and dived and dived, until
he could bear the cold no more. His notion was
that he would find the body; he only found a
shirt-pin sticking in some mud and ooze."

Our failure to identify Cloisterham Weir exhibits another instance
where, for the purposes of the story, an imaginary place is introduced.
To Mr. William Ball is due the credit for subsequently suggesting that
Snodland Brook and Snodland Weir may have possibly been in Dickens's
mind in originating Cloisterham Weir; so we tramped over to inspect
them. Near the village, the brook (or river, for it is of respectable
width) is turbid and shallow, but higher up--a mile or so--we found it
clearer and deeper, and we heard from some labourers, whom we saw
regaling themselves by the side of a hayrick, that a local gentleman had
some years ago been in the habit of bathing in the stream all the year
round.

[Illustration: St. Nicholas' Burying Ground]

The ancient Church of St. Nicholas (1423) is on the north side of the
Cathedral. In front of it is a narrow strip of ground, enclosed with
iron railings, formerly the burial-ground of the Church, but now
disused, referred to in _Edwin Drood_ as "a fragment of a burial-ground
in which an unhappy sheep was grazing." In this enclosure, which is
neatly kept, there are a weeping willow at each end, and in the centre
an exquisite specimen of the catalpa tree (_Catalpa syringifolia_), t