the mirror of the sea-第27章

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the　Thames　docks；　〃beauty〃　is　a　vain　word；　but　romance　has　lived



too　long　upon　this　river　not　to　have　thrown　a　mantle　of　glamour



upon　its　banks。







The　antiquity　of　the　port　appeals　to　the　imagination　by　the　long



chain　of　adventurous　enterprises　that　had　their　inception　in　the



town　and　floated　out　into　the　world　on　the　waters　of　the　river。



Even　the　newest　of　the　docks；　the　Tilbury　Dock；　shares　in　the



glamour　conferred　by　historical　associations。　　Queen　Elizabeth　has



made　one　of　her　progresses　down　there；　not　one　of　her　journeys　of



pomp　and　ceremony；　but　an　anxious　business　progress　at　a　crisis　of



national　history。　　The　menace　of　that　time　has　passed　away；　and　now



Tilbury　is　known　by　its　docks。　　These　are　very　modern；　but　their



remoteness　and　isolation　upon　the　Essex　marsh；　the　days　of　failure



attending　their　creation；　invested　them　with　a　romantic　air。



Nothing　in　those　days　could　have　been　more　striking　than　the　vast；



empty　basins；　surrounded　by　miles　of　bare　quays　and　the　ranges　of



cargo…sheds；　where　two　or　three　ships　seemed　lost　like　bewitched



children　in　a　forest　of　gaunt；　hydraulic　cranes。　　One　received　a



wonderful　impression　of　utter　abandonment；　of　wasted　efficiency。



From　the　first　the　Tilbury　Docks　were　very　efficient　and　ready　for



their　task；　but　they　had　come；　perhaps；　too　soon　into　the　field。　　A



great　future　lies　before　Tilbury　Docks。　　They　shall　never　fill　a



long…felt　want　（in　the　sacramental　phrase　that　is　applied　to



railways；　tunnels；　newspapers；　and　new　editions　of　books）。　　They



were　too　early　in　the　field。　　The　want　shall　never　be　felt　because；



free　of　the　trammels　of　the　tide；　easy　of　access；　magnificent　and



desolate；　they　are　already　there；　prepared　to　take　and　keep　the



biggest　ships　that　float　upon　the　sea。　　They　are　worthy　of　the



oldest　river　port　in　the　world。







　And；　truth　to　say；　for　all　the　criticisms　flung　upon　the　heads　of



the　dock　companies；　the　other　docks　of　the　Thames　are　no　disgrace



to　the　town　with　a　population　greater　than　that　of　some



commonwealths。　　The　growth　of　London　as　a　well…equipped　port　has



been　slow；　while　not　unworthy　of　a　great　capital；　of　a　great　centre



of　distribution。　　It　must　not　be　forgotten　that　London　has　not　the



backing　of　great　industrial　districts　or　great　fields　of　natural



exploitation。　　In　this　it　differs　from　Liverpool；　from　Cardiff；



from　Newcastle；　from　Glasgow；　and　therein　the　Thames　differs　from



the　Mersey；　from　the　Tyne；　from　the　Clyde。　　It　is　an　historical



river；　it　is　a　romantic　stream　flowing　through　the　centre　of　great



affairs；　and　for　all　the　criticism　of　the　river's　administration；



my　contention　is　that　its　development　has　been　worthy　of　its



dignity。　　For　a　long　time　the　stream　itself　could　accommodate　quite



easily　the　oversea　and　coasting　traffic。　　That　was　in　the　days



when；　in　the　part　called　the　Pool；　just　below　London　Bridge；　the



vessels　moored　stem　and　stern　in　the　very　strength　of　the　tide



formed　one　solid　mass　like　an　island　covered　with　a　forest　of



gaunt；　leafless　trees；　and　when　the　trade　had　grown　too　big　for　the



river　there　came　the　St。　Katherine's　Docks　and　the　London　Docks；



magnificent　undertakings　answering　to　the　need　of　their　time。　　The



same　may　be　said　of　the　other　artificial　lakes　full　of　ships　that



go　in　and　out　upon　this　high　road　to　all　parts　of　the　world。　　The



labour　of　the　imperial　waterway　goes　on　from　generation　to



generation；　goes　on　day　and　night。　　Nothing　ever　arrests　its



sleepless　industry　but　the　coming　of　a　heavy　fog；　which　clothes　the



teeming　stream　in　a　mantle　of　impenetrable　stillness。







After　the　gradual　cessation　of　all　sound　and　movement　on　the



faithful　river；　only　the　ringing　of　ships'　bells　is　heard；



mysterious　and　muffled　in　the　white　vapour　from　London　Bridge　right



down　to　the　Nore；　for　miles　and　miles　in　a　decrescendo　tinkling；　to



where　the　estuary　broadens　out　into　the　North　Sea；　and　the　anchored



ships　lie　scattered　thinly　in　the　shrouded　channels　between　the



sand…banks　of　the　Thames'　mouth。　　Through　the　long　and　glorious



tale　of　years　of　the　river's　strenuous　service　to　its　people　these



are　its　only　breathing　times。















XXXIII。















A　ship　in　dock；　surrounded　by　quays　and　the　walls　of　warehouses；



has　the　appearance　of　a　prisoner　meditating　upon　freedom　in　the



sadness　of　a　free　spirit　put　under　restraint。　　Chain　cables　and



stout　ropes　keep　her　bound　to　stone　posts　at　the　edge　of　a　paved



shore；　and　a　berthing…master；　with　brass　buttons　on　his　coat；　walks



about　like　a　weather…beaten　and　ruddy　gaoler；　casting　jealous；



watchful　glances　upon　the　moorings　that　fetter　a　ship　lying　passive



and　still　and　safe；　as　if　lost　in　deep　regrets　of　her　days　of



liberty　and　danger　on　the　sea。







The　swarm　of　renegades　…　dock…masters；　berthing…masters；　gatemen；



and　such　like　…　appear　to　nurse　an　immense　distrust　of　the　captive



ship's　resignation。　　There　never　seem　chains　and　ropes　enough　to



satisfy　their　minds　concerned　with　the　safe　binding　of　free　ships



to　the　strong；　muddy；　enslaved　earth。　　〃You　had　better　put　another



bight　of　a　hawser　astern；　Mr。　Mate；〃　is　the　usual　phrase　in　their



mouth。　　I　brand　them　for　renegades；　because　most　of　them　have　been



sailors　in　their　time。　　As　if　the　infirmities　of　old　age　…　the　gray



hair；　the　wrinkles　at　the　corners　of　the　eyes；　and　the　knotted



veins　of　the　hands　…　were　the　symptoms　of　moral　poison；　they　prowl



about　the　quays　with　an　underhand　air　of　gloating　over　the　broken



spirit　of　noble　captives。　　They　want　more　fenders；　more　breasting…



ropes；　they　want　more　springs；　more　shackles；　more　fetters；　they



want　to　make　ships　with　volatile　souls　as　motionless　as　square



blocks　of　stone。　　They　stand　on　the　mud　of　pavements；　these



degraded　sea…dogs；　with　long　lines　of　railway…trucks　clanking　their



couplings　behind　their　backs；　and　run　malevolent　glances　over　your



ship　from　headgear　to　taffrail；　only　wishing　to　tyrannize　over　the



poor　creature　under　the　hypocritical　cloak　of　benevolence　and　care。



Here　and　there　cargo　cranes　looking　like　instruments　of　torture　for



ships　swing　cruel　hooks　at　the　end　of　long　chains。　　Gangs　of　dock…



labourers　swarm　with　muddy　feet　over　the　gangways。　　It　is　a　moving



sight　this；　of　so　many　men　of　the　earth；　earthy；　who　never　cared



anything　for　a　ship；　trampling　unconcerned；　brutal　and　hob…nailed



upon　her　helpless　body。







Fortunately；　nothing　can　deface　the　beauty　of　a　ship。　　That　sense



of　a　dungeon；　that　sense　of　a　horrible　and　degrading　misfortune



overtaking　a　creature　fair　to　see　and　safe　to　trust；　attaches　only



to　ships　moored　in　the　docks　of　great　European　ports。　　You　feel



that　they　are　dishonestly　locked　up；　to　be　hunted　about　from　wharf



to　wharf　on　a　dark；　greasy；　square　pool　of　black　water　as　a　brutal



reward　at　the　end　of　a　faithful　voyage。







A　ship　anchored　in　an　open　roadstead；　with　cargo…lighters　alongside



and　her　own　tackle　swinging　the　burden　over　the　rail；　is



accomplishing　in　freedom　a　function　of　her　life。　　There　is　no



restraint；　there　is　space：　　clear　water　around　her；　and　a　clear　sky



above　her　mastheads；　with　a　landscape　of　green　hills　and　charming



bays　opening　around　her　anchorage。　　She　is　not　abandoned　by　her　own



men　to　the　tender　mercies　of　shore　people。　　She　still　shelters；　and



is　looked　after　by；　her　own　little　devoted　band；　and　you　feel　that



presently　she　will　glide　between　the　headlands　and　disappear。　　It



is　only　at　home；　in　dock；　that　she　lies　abandoned；　shut　off　from



freedom　by　all　the　artifices　of　men　that　think　of　quick　despatch



and　profitable　freights。　　It　is　only　then　that　the　odious；



rectangular　shadows　of　walls　and　roofs　fall　upon　her　decks；　with



showers　of　soot。







To　a　man　who　has　never　seen　the　extraordinary　nobi