Medway, She Wrote

Behind one great author; many Extra/Ordinary Women

13 September 2026

“He had a mistress who was born in Rochester.”

Wait. What?

Charles Dickens had a mistress?

A mistress who was born in Rochester – a Medway town?

I am stunned. Gobsmacked. Literally stopped in my tracks. Not so much because Charles Dickens had an affair, but because, despite living in Medway and being a Dickens fan, I had no idea about this story.

The Man of Kent’s Mum lobbed this news-to-me fact into conversation as we were perusing the Charles Dickens Museum in London recently. She is hugely knowledgeable about historical figures, and has form for producing showstopping Medway-related nuggets when I least expect them. Like that time she informed me in the car on the way to Bluewater that Florence Nightingale used to work in a hospital in Chatham.

Having dropped this particular bombshell, The Man of Kent’s Mum headed off into the Extra/Ordinary Women exhibition that we had come to see, with me scurrying along behind, desperate for details. There were details aplenty at the exhibition, and I’ve unearthed more since.

^{The Theatre Royal in Newcastle}

Charles Dickens did indeed have a mistress. Her name was Nelly Ternan, and she was born in the Medway town of Rochester. Even more intriguing; her dad, William Ternan, was one of the first managers of the Theatre Royal in Newcastle! The connections between Medway and my home region of the North East never cease to amaze me.

After Dickens’ death, Nelly moved to Margate, married a schoolteacher and completely reinvented herself. Practically no one was any the wiser about her relationship with Dickens until a journalist broke the story in the 1930s. (Though clearly, some of us had managed to stay completely in the dark almost one hundred years later!)

The story of Nelly’s relationship with Charles Dickens is one of heartbreak, subterfuge, a bracelet and a bonfire. It’s the story of a loyal wife being thrown under the bus to protect the reputation of a literary superstar. It’s about cover-ups, destroying evidence, and twisting the truth. It’s a story that’s scandalous and shocking, but at its heart, deeply sad. It’s certainly extraordinary.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: The sad and scandalous story of Charles Dickens’ affair with Nelly Ternan; the cruel and public dumping of his wife, Catherine; how Dickens’ public image was jealously guarded by his sister-in-law, Georgina Hogarth; and why you should visit the Extra/Ordinary Women exhibition at the Charles Dickens Museum. Enjoy!
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From Bagpuss to Dickens’ deaf kitten: Kent’s famous cats

8 August 2026

“I meant,” said Ipslore bitterly, “what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?”

Death thought about it.

CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.”
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

In Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, Death, through his eternal career of dealing with mortals and dispatching them to their fate, has absorbed many human qualities. One of these qualities is a terrific fondness for cats. In Sourcery, Ipslore the wizard, in an argument with Death, asks what there is in the world that truly makes living worthwhile. Death replies, in his voice that is ‘as hollow as a cave, as dense as a neutron star’:

“CATS…CATS ARE NICE.”

The idea that cats are nice – indeed, much more than nice – has been around for millennia. The Ancient Egyptians’ worship of cats is well known, but it’s believed that domesticated pet cats were around even earlier. In 2004, the 9,500-year-old grave of a human with a cat was found in the Neolithic village of Shillourokambos, in Cyprus. The remains were buried with seashells, polished stones and other artefacts, suggesting that this was a person of some social status and the cat was at least tame, if not a domesticated pet as we would recognise one. Nowadays, there are around 220 million pet cats around the world.

The Man of Kent is a great lover of cats. He will stop to pet any cat he comes across in the street, show me almost every cat reel he sees on social media, and befriend all manner of feline waifs and strays on holiday. I remember having to eat dinner in a restaurant in Morocco with a cat on my foot because one particularly mangy specimen had clocked The Man of Kent as a soft touch, and parked itself underneath our table in hope of scrouging scraps. (This tactic succeeded. As I said, he’s a soft touch.)

Living with The Man of Kent means that some of his affection for felines has rubbed off on me, and I have adopted the mantra that (most) cats are nice. As a Leo, I already had some affinity with lions. Since meeting The Man of Kent, I’ve had pet cats who have been simultaneous sources of delight and infuriation. What I’ve learned is, whether you regard cats as regal, furry bundles of joy, or selfish little gits who only tolerate humans as food sources (usually leaving a trail of shredded destruction in their wake), you have to admire their nonchalant style and cheerful arrogance. And some of them are undeniably, insufferably cute.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: It’s International Cat Day, so we’re celebrating famous cats of Kent, from Bagpuss to Charles Dickens’ cat-turned-paper-knife, Bob. Enjoy!
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Armed Forces Day at Chatham Historic Dockyard: no rain on this parade!

6 July 2026

“Armed Forces Day parade! Get. On. Parade!”

This command was bellowed loud enough for all Medway to hear, and issued with such authority that I found myself standing up straighter, even though I was just a civilian. Less than a minute later, I was watching a military parade marching its way towards No.1 Smithery at the Historic Dockyard in Chatham.

It was Saturday 27 June 2026: Armed Forces Day, and the tail end of a record-breaking heatwave across the UK. Though it was marginally cooler than the hellfire temperatures of the previous Thursday, it was still hot, hot, hot here on the Costa del Medway.

We Geordies are not built for this heat. Especially not the pale-skinned, red-headed variety, like me.

Even though I could feel the first tingles of sunburn as soon as I left the house, I wasn’t going to let that stop me from attending my first-ever Armed Forces Day at the Historic Dockyard. Appropriate battle dress was donned: an enormous sun hat, sunglasses to rival Anna Wintour, and more sunscreen on my face than an England cricketer at a Test match. Rations were multiple bottles of water. I still ended up slightly fuchsia pink, but it was worth it, as you’ll see.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: marking Armed Forces Day at the Historic Dockyard in Chatham, discovering lifeboats from the North East in Medway, a dastardly butler, an international submarine of mystery, and the Dockyard’s connections to the Oval Office. Enjoy!
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Canterbury: The Theatre Lover’s Tale

29 May 2026

If I asked you to name something you associate with Canterbury, you’d probably say, ‘Archbishop of’, ‘cathedral’, ‘Thomas Beckett,’ or ‘pilgrims’. Or ‘cricket’, if you’re that way inclined.

If you asked me to name something I associate with Canterbury, I’d say ‘theatre’.

Why? Because Canterbury’s connection to theatre goes way back to the 1500s and includes links to two of the country’s earliest and most important playwrights, Christopher Marlowe and Aphra Behn. Nowadays, it’s home to Kent’s biggest theatre, The Marlowe. It also hosts the annual Canterbury Shakespeare Festival in summer, and the autumn Canterbury Festival – a feast of music, theatre, comedy and other arts productions.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: Why you should be keeping an eye on what’s on in Canterbury, where to eat pre- and post-theatre, and a few ideas for other things to do in this beautiful cathedral city.
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The Luton Murals: Monumental tributes to Medway’s history

1 May 2026

I’m standing in Joiner’s Court, near the top of Shipwright’s Avenue in Luton. It’s a bright, sunny Easter Sunday. The hills of Medway rise and fall steeply below me. In the distance, I can see the Chatham Naval Memorial to my left, leafy Darland Banks away on the right. In front of me, taking up the whole side of a house, is a mural of a young lad holding a paper aeroplane.

The boy is dressed in a khaki jacket and sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by paper planes. His disappointment as he looks at the plane in his hand is palpable. This plane is clearly not a toy; it’s a painful reminder of something.

^{Liam Bononi’s mural of William Mason in Joiner’s Court, Luton}

The lad’s name is William Mason. As a young boy, William dreamed of flying his own aeroplane. After getting a pilot’s licence and a job at Short Brothers in Rochester, he started designing and building his plane, which was named the Luton Minor. It stood in the back garden of his family’s home in Magpie Hall Road, Luton.

But William’s Luton Minor would never take to the skies. The Second World War broke out on the day of its test flight, and all civilian aircraft were grounded. Post-war restrictions meant William never fulfilled his dream of flying his own plane.

The mural of William Mason is one of several that have been painted on buildings around Luton, thanks to volunteer organisation Arches Local and the town’s residents. Enormous thanks to Arches Local, who kindly talked to me about the background to this frankly amazing project for this post.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: Luton, home of monumental painted tributes to Medway’s past, and a community that isn’t afraid to take bold risks to tell its stories.
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Going to the match in a not-so-dirty old town: Salford City v Gillingham

19 April 2026

I found my love by the gasworks croft
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Lyrics from Dirty Old Town by Ewan MacColl, club anthem of Salford City FC

Dirty Old Town. Everyone thinks it’s an old Irish folk song because of covers by The Dubliners and The Pogues, but it was actually written by Ewan MacColl about his home town of Salford. MacColl wrote the track in 1949 for his play, Landscape with Chimneys, and Salford’s smoggy, industrial landscape of factories and gasworks inspired the title. Salford isn’t a dirty old town anymore though, and some parts are positively glitzy (hello, MediaCity).

The Man of Kent, being a true Shouting Man, decided that there could be no better way to celebrate his birthday than watching his beloved football team, Gillingham FC. So off we went to follow the Gills over land (but not sea) to the Peninsula Stadium, home of the Ammies – Salford City FC.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: Watching the Gills play Salford City, soaking up football art at The Lowry, and a visit to the National Football Museum. Read on to find out which one of us scored top bins at the Museum, and which football legend we spotted in Altrincham’s Market House.
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Jezreel’s Tower: Medway’s Missing Landmark

4 April 2026

“It is to be the grandest building in the whole of these parts.”
James Jershom Jezreel

Have you ever seen the TV series Grand Designs?

It’s a show on Channel 4, hosted by Kevin McCloud, about people building homes that are unusual, groundbreaking and often grand in scale. Sometimes the designs are beautiful structures that enhance the landscape around them, blending quietly into their surroundings. Sometimes the buildings are bizarre or just plain ugly, leaving you wondering, ‘What were they thinking?’ But every design is unique, even if not to your particular taste. Having Kevin McCloud describe your design as having ‘integrity’ is the highest possible accolade on the show.

The show has garnered a few tropes over the years. Vast structures that spiral way beyond budget. Builds that go over deadline by months, if not years. Owners whacking terrifying amounts of money on credit cards to fund the project. Kevin McCloud commenting wryly on the ambitious nature of the design or timetable. I say all of this with affection; it’s a great show.

There have been several Grand Designs in Kent. The Garden of England has attracted many intrepid self-builders looking for a few spare acres on which to construct their dream house. But once upon a time, long before Channel 4 started documenting such things, Gillingham was home to a very grand design indeed. A structure that was intended to be “the grandest building in the whole of these parts.”

That building was Jezreel’s Tower. It stood at the top of Chatham Hill, dominating the Medway skyline. Jezreel’s Tower wasn’t just famous locally. It was famous nationally. As well-known and recognisable as the Angel of the North, or Stonehenge, or Blackpool Tower. It was so famous, it was one of the British landmarks used in an advertising campaign for Shell Oil. It featured on postcards, and has been immortalised in song by local bands Tundra and The Khybers.

In March 1961, 65 years ago, the grandest building in the whole of these parts was torn down. It had put up decades of resistance, mightily withstanding many attempts to have it demolished, but was eventually battered into the ground thanks to an act of colossal municipal short-sightedness.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: Jezreel’s Tower – Gillingham’s missing landmark; the charismatic religious leader who created this grand design; and how I might never have found out about any of this, were it not for Percie’s postcard.
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Mr Kipling’s poem about Medway

21 March 2026

For, now De Ruyter’s topsails
Off naked Chatham show,
We dare not meet him with our fleet –
And this the Dutchmen know!
Rudyard Kipling, ‘The Dutch in the Medway’

Happy World Poetry Day! What better time to do a spot of research into poems about Medway? I couldn’t think of any poems about Medway – or Kent for that matter – off the top of my head, but I was pleased to discover that its history has inspired many famous writers! Today, I’ve picked out a poem by Rudyard Kipling. This one sparked my interest because it’s about the Dutch raid on the River Medway in June 1667, which I’ve written about before.

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Private Gardiner’s execution on the Great Lines, with revolting details (sorry, Mr Dickens!)

8 February 2026

Me: “Do you think there were food stalls selling burgers and hotdogs, like on Bonfire Night?”

The Man of Kent: “More like peanuts and pies, beer and gin. Can’t imagine people were watching the execution sober.”

New Year’s Day 2026. The Man of Kent and I were walking on the Great Lines, and I was telling him the story of how Benjamin Gardiner had been executed here for murdering Sergeant Patrick Feeney, in 1834.

I was pondering what the scene must have looked like, almost two hundred years ago, when around 14,000 people packed onto the Lines to see one man put to death. I started thinking about the annual fireworks display that, until recently, happened most years on the Great Lines. As anyone who has attended that display knows, you can cram hordes of people onto those hills and fields. On Bonfire Night, there would also be food trucks catering to the spectators.

That’s when it occurred to me. With so people around to watch the execution, there were bound to be vendors who wouldn’t miss the opportunity to turn a handsome profit. Hence my question to The Man of Kent. I wasn’t being flippant; just voicing a morbid thought.

As it turns out, The Man of Kent wasn’t far off. Executions had entertainment value in those days, and local food and drink sellers would indeed ply their wares to the crowds. In fact, one former pie seller would play a prominent and sinister role in this particular affair.

Today on Medway, She Wrote: the murder of Sergeant Patrick Feeney at Chatham Barracks, the execution of Private Benjamin Gardiner on the Great Lines, and the portfolio career of Britain’s busiest hangman, William Calcraft.
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Cat Fight, Coopers Chase, Cockie and more: a year of reading in Kent

16 January 2026

“Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it.”
Jeanette Winterson

Book collecting is “a fate.”

Collecting books is much easier to justify when you put it like that, isn’t it? I couldn’t help it; I was fated to buy that new book, even though I have a to-be-read pile the size of the Pentagon Centre.

Collecting books is my obsession, disease, addiction and fascination, as well as my fate. I wish I could make it my occupation, but I haven’t managed that yet. Regular readers will know I have next to no willpower when it comes to reading material, and I hoard books like Smaug from The Hobbit hoards treasure. That’s why I can’t move in the spare room of my house. Truth be told, since I wrote that post, the landing cupboard is now a casualty. But hey, that’s fate for you.

Last year, I resolved to read more books. Well, I read 17 books; ten more than I did in 2024.

Now 17 may not sound like a lot. I know people who read over 50 books last year, others who read 100. 100! That’s Olympian levels of reading as far as I’m concerned. Seventeen isn’t a personal best for me, but I read as many books as I could in the time available, and most importantly, I thoroughly enjoyed them.

Today on Medway, She Wrote – a round-up of what I read in 2025, including five books set in Kent!
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