nd dogs behaved exactly as
usual: this may remind us of another C.D. My father used to tell us how,
after his five years' voyage in the _Beagle_, he went into the yard at
his Shrewsbury home and whistled in a particular way, and the dog came
for a walk as if he had done the same thing the day before. Two of
Dickens' dogs were, however, greatly excited: the faithful Mrs Bouncer
being one of them.

A letter to Cerjat (1868) gives an echo from the great railway accident
in which Dickens had so lucky an escape:--

"My escape in the Staplehurst accident of three years ago is not to be
obliterated from my nervous system. To this hour I have sudden vague
rushes of terror, even when riding {228} in a hansom cab, which are
perfectly unreasonable but quite insurmountable. I used to make nothing
of driving a pair of horses habitually through the most crowded parts of
London. I cannot now drive, with comfort myself, on the country roads
here; and I doubt if I could ride at all in the saddle."

In 1866 he consulted Dr Beard about symptoms of grave significance. And
in 1869 Beard went down to Preston and put a stop to a projected reading,
and ruled, with the approval of Sir Thomas Watson, that anything like a
reading tour must be finally stopped.

In January and March 1870, he was working at _Edwin Drood_, his
unfinished book. He gave some farewell readings, and his last public
appearance was at the Royal Academy dinner, where he spoke of Maclise.

His daughter has given a touching account of his death. He was at Gad's
Hill on 30th May 1870 at work over _Edwin Drood_, but there was "an
appearance of fatigue and weariness about him very unlike his usual air
of fresh activity."

On 8th June 1870 he owned to being very ill. He became incoherent, and
being advised to lie down, he said indistinctly, "Yes, on the ground,"
and these were his last words. In the evening of 9th June, he shuddered,
gave one sigh, a tear rolled down his face, and he died.

Dickens had wished to be buried in the little churchyard of Shorne in
Kent; but the authorities of Rochester Cathedral asked that he might be
buried there. Finally, Dean Stanley intervened and he was buried on 14th
June in Westminster Abbey. His daughter says that every year on the
ninth of June flowers are strewn by "unknown hands on that spot so sacred
to us, and to all who knew and loved him."

A PROCESSION OF FLOWERS {231a}

The following pages give the result