the uncommercial traveller-第47节

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a　mislaid　headache　somewhere　in　its　stomach　…　who　had　been　put　into

a　horrible　swing　in　Dover　Harbour；　and　had　tumbled　giddily　out　of

it　on　the　French　coast；　or　the　Isle　of　Man；　or　anywhere。　　Times

have　changed；　and　now　I　enter　Calais　self…reliant　and　rational。　　I

know　where　it　is　beforehand；　I　keep　a　look　out　for　it；　I　recognise

its　landmarks　when　I　see　any　of　them；　I　am　acquainted　with　its

ways；　and　I　know　…　and　I　can　bear　…　its　worst　behaviour。



Malignant　Calais！　　Low…lying　alligator；　evading　the　eyesight　and

discouraging　hope！　　Dodging　flat　streak；　now　on　this　bow；　now　on

that；　now　anywhere；　now　everywhere；　now　nowhere！　　In　vain　Cape

Grinez；　coming　frankly　forth　into　the　sea；　exhorts　the　failing　to

be　stout　of　heart　and　stomach：　　sneaking　Calais；　prone　behind　its

bar；　invites　emetically　to　despair。　　Even　when　it　can　no　longer

quite　conceal　itself　in　its　muddy　dock；　it　has　an　evil　way　of

falling　off；　has　Calais；　which　is　more　hopeless　than　its

invisibility。　　The　pier　is　all　but　on　the　bowsprit；　and　you　think

you　are　there　…　roll；　roar；　wash！　…　Calais　has　retired　miles

inland；　and　Dover　has　burst　out　to　look　for　it。　　It　has　a　last　dip

and　slide　in　its　character；　has　Calais；　to　be　especially　commanded

to　the　infernal　gods。　　Thrice　accursed　be　that　garrison…town；　when

it　dives　under　the　boat's　keel；　and　comes　up　a　league　or　two　to　the

right；　with　the　packet　shivering　and　spluttering　and　staring　about

for　it！



Not　but　what　I　have　my　animosities　towards　Dover。　　I　particularly

detest　Dover　for　the　self…complacency　with　which　it　goes　to　bed。

It　always　goes　to　bed　（when　I　am　going　to　Calais）　with　a　more

brilliant　display　of　lamp　and　candle　than　any　other　town。　　Mr。　and

Mrs。　Birmingham；　host　and　hostess　of　the　Lord　Warden　Hotel；　are　my

much　esteemed　friends；　but　they　are　too　conceited　about　the

comforts　of　that　establishment　when　the　Night　Mail　is　starting。　　I

know　it　is　a　good　house　to　stay　at；　and　I　don't　want　the　fact

insisted　upon　in　all　its　warm　bright　windows　at　such　an　hour。　　I

know　the　Warden　is　a　stationary　edifice　that　never　rolls　or

pitches；　and　I　object　to　its　big　outline　seeming　to　insist　upon

that　circumstance；　and；　as　it　were；　to　come　over　me　with　it；　when　I

am　reeling　on　the　deck　of　the　boat。　　Beshrew　the　Warden　likewise；

for　obstructing　that　corner；　and　making　the　wind　so　angry　as　it

rushes　round。　　Shall　I　not　know　that　it　blows　quite　soon　enough；

without　the　officious　Warden's　interference？



As　I　wait　here　on　board　the　night　packet；　for　the　South…Eastern

Train　to　come　down　with　the　Mail；　Dover　appears　to　me　to　be

illuminated　for　some　intensely　aggravating　festivity　in　my　personal

dishonour。　　All　its　noises　smack　of　taunting　praises　of　the　land；

and　dispraises　of　the　gloomy　sea；　and　of　me　for　going　on　it。　　The

drums　upon　the　heights　have　gone　to　bed；　or　I　know　they　would

rattle　taunts　against　me　for　having　my　unsteady　footing　on　this

slippery　deck。　　The　many　gas　eyes　of　the　Marine　Parade　twinkle　in

an　offensive　manner；　as　if　with　derision。　　The　distant　dogs　of

Dover　bark　at　me　in　my　misshapen　wrappers；　as　if　I　were　Richard　the

Third。



A　screech；　a　bell；　and　two　red　eyes　come　gliding　down　the　Admiralty

Pier　with　a　smoothness　of　motion　rendered　more　smooth　by　the

heaving　of　the　boat。　　The　sea　makes　noises　against　the　pier；　as　if

several　hippopotami　were　lapping　at　it；　and　were　prevented　by

circumstances　over　which　they　had　no　control　from　drinking

peaceably。　　We；　the　boat；　become　violently　agitated　…　rumble；　hum；

scream；　roar；　and　establish　an　immense　family　washing…day　at　each

paddle…box。　　Bright　patches　break　out　in　the　train　as　the　doors　of

the　post…office　vans　are　opened；　and　instantly　stooping　figures

with　sacks　upon　their　backs　begin　to　be　beheld　among　the　piles；

descending　as　it　would　seem　in　ghostly　procession　to　Davy　Jones's

Locker。　　The　passengers　come　on　board；　a　few　shadowy　Frenchmen；

with　hatboxes　shaped　like　the　stoppers　of　gigantic　case…bottles；　a

few　shadowy　Germans　in　immense　fur　coats　and　boots；　a　few　shadowy

Englishmen　prepared　for　the　worst　and　pretending　not　to　expect　it。

I　cannot　disguise　from　my　uncommercial　mind　the　miserable　fact　that

we　are　a　body　of　outcasts；　that　the　attendants　on　us　are　as　scant

in　number　as　may　serve　to　get　rid　of　us　with　the　least　possible

delay；　that　there　are　no　night…loungers　interested　in　us；　that　the

unwilling　lamps　shiver　and　shudder　at　us；　that　the　sole　object　is

to　commit　us　to　the　deep　and　abandon　us。　　Lo；　the　two　red　eyes

glaring　in　increasing　distance；　and　then　the　very　train　itself　has

gone　to　bed　before　we　are　off！



What　is　the　moral　support　derived　by　some　sea…going　amateurs　from

an　umbrella？　　Why　do　certain　voyagers　across　the　Channel　always　put

up　that　article；　and　hold　it　up　with　a　grim　and　fierce　tenacity？　　A

fellow…creature　near　me　…　whom　I　only　know　to　BE　a　fellow…creature；

because　of　his　umbrella：　　without　which　he　might　be　a　dark　bit　of

cliff；　pier；　or　bulkbead　…　clutches　that　instrument　with　a

desperate　grasp；　that　will　not　relax　until　he　lands　at　Calais。　　Is

there　any　analogy；　in　certain　constitutions；　between　keeping　an

umbrella　up；　and　keeping　the　spirits　up？　　A　hawser　thrown　on　board

with　a　flop　replies　'Stand　by！'　　'Stand　by；　below！'　　'Half　a　turn　a

head！'　　'Half　a　turn　a　head！'　　'Half　speed！'　　'Half　speed！'

'Port！'　　'Port！'　　'Steady！'　　'Steady！'　　'Go　on！'　　'Go　on！'



A　stout　wooden　wedge　driven　in　at　my　right　temple　and　out　at　my

left；　a　floating　deposit　of　lukewarm　oil　in　my　throat；　and　a

compression　of　the　bridge　of　my　nose　in　a　blunt　pair　of　pincers；　…

these　are　the　personal　sensations　by　which　I　know　we　are　off；　and

by　which　I　shall　continue　to　know　it　until　I　am　on　the　soil　of

France。　　My　symptoms　have　scarcely　established　themselves

comfortably；　when　two　or　three　skating　shadows　that　have　been

trying　to　walk　or　stand；　get　flung　together；　and　other　two　or　three

shadows　in　tarpaulin　slide　with　them　into　corners　and　cover　them

up。　　Then　the　South　Foreland　lights　begin　to　hiccup　at　us　in　a　way

that　bodes　no　good。



It　is　at　about　this　period　that　my　detestation　of　Calais　knows　no

bounds。　　Inwardly　I　resolve　afresh　that　I　never　will　forgive　that

hated　town。　　I　have　done　so　before；　many　times；　but　that　is　past。

Let　me　register　a　vow。　　Implacable　animosity　to　Calais　everm…　that

was　an　awkward　sea；　and　the　funnel　seems　of　my　opinion；　for　it

gives　a　complaining　roar。



The　wind　blows　stiffly　from　the　Nor…East；　the　sea　runs　high；　we

ship　a　deal　of　water；　the　night　is　dark　and　cold；　and　the　shapeless

passengers　lie　about　in　melancholy　bundles；　as　if　they　were　sorted

out　for　the　laundress；　but　for　my　own　uncommercial　part　I　cannot

pretend　that　I　am　much　inconvenienced　by　any　of　these　things。　　A

general　howling；　whistling；　flopping；　gurgling；　and　scooping；　I　am

aware　of；　and　a　general　knocking　about　of　Nature；　but　the

impressions　I　receive　are　very　vague。　　In　a　sweet　faint　temper；

something　like　the　smell　of　damaged　oranges；　I　think　I　should　feel

languidly　benevolent　if　I　had　time。　　I　have　not　time；　because　I　am

under　a　curious　compulsion　to　occupy　myself　with　the　Irish

melodies。　　'Rich　and　rare　were　the　gems　she　wore；'　is　the

particular　melody　to　which　I　find　myself　devoted。　　I　sing　it　to

myself　in　the　most　charming　manner　and　with　the　greatest

expression。　　Now　and　then；　I　raise　my　head　（I　am　sitting　on　the

hardest　of　wet　seats；　in　the　most　uncomfortable　of　wet　attitudes；

but　I　don't　mind　it；）　and　notice　that　I　am　a　whirling　shuttlecock

between　a　fiery　battledore　of　a　lighthouse　on　the　French　coast　and

a　fiery　battledore　of　a　lighthouse　on　the　English　coast；　but　I

don't　notice　it　particularly；　except　to　feel　envenomed　in　my　hatred

of　Calais。　　Then　I　go　on　again；　'Rich　and　rare　were　the　ge…ems　she…

e…e…e　wore；　And　a　bright　gold　ring　on　her　wa…and　she　bo…ore；　But　O

her　beauty　was　fa…a…a…a…r　beyond'　…　I　am　particularly　proud　of　my

execution　here；　when　I　become　aware　of　another　awkward　shock　from

the　sea；　and　another　protest　from　the　funnel；　and　a　fellow…creature

at　the　paddle…box　more　audibly　indisposed　than　I　think　he　need　be　…

'Her　sparkling　gems；　or　snow…white　wand；　But　O　her　beauty　was　fa…a…

a…a…a…r　beyond'　…　another　awkward　one　here；　and　the　fellow…creature

with　the　umbrella　down　and　picked　up　…　'Her　spa…a…rkling　ge…ems；　or

her　Port！　port！　steady！　steady！　snow…white　fellow…creature　at　the

paddle…box　very　selfishly　audible；　bump；　roar；　wash；　white　wand。'



As　my　execution　of　the　Irish　melodies　partakes　of　my　imperfect

perceptions　of　what　is　going　on　around　me；　so　what　is　going　on

around　me　becomes　something　else　than　what　it　is。　　The　stokers　open

the　furnace　doors　below；　to　feed　the　fires；　and　I　am　again　on　the

box　of　the　old　Exeter　Telegraph　fast　coach；　and　that　is　the　light

of　the　for　ever　extinguished　coach…lamps；　and　the　gleam　on　the

hatches　and　paddle…boxes　is　THEIR　gleam　on　cottages　and　haystacks；

and　the　monotonous