Vignette, Calais Fishermen
Pen and ink drawing, approx. 6.8 × 12.4 cm (image only).The ocean barrier is beating a
Again, again for evermore
Haste the light curlings to the shore,
That from the sand the impression sweep
Of playful Childhoods daring feet
That seeks within its sandy cell
The pebble bright, or purple shell 1
Far in its clear expanse, lay wide
Unruffledly that ocean‐tide
Stretching away where paler grew,
And far away indistance dying
Old Englands cliffy coast was lying
And beautiful, as summer cloud
By the low sun empurpled proud
Strange, that a space from shore to shore
So soon, so easily passed oer,
Should yet a wide distinction place
Twixt man and man, twixt race and race
Sudden and marked the change you find
Religion, language even mind 2
That you might think that narrow span
Marked the varieties of man.
Vignette, Calais Fishermen with Telescope
Pen and ink, approx. 3.7 × 5.5 cm (image only).Vignette, Fishermen on Pier, One Gazing out to Sea
Pen and ink, approx. 6.8 × 10.3 cm (image only).has ever set his foot on the French shore, from poor
Yorick to the veriest scribbler ever blotted paper, has
written half a volume upon Calais. And no marvel.
Calais—the busy—the bustling —I had almost said
the beautiful, for beautiful it was to me. c and
I believe to every one, who enters it as a vestibule
an introduction to France, and to the French. 3 f
to the Mediterranean. It is a little France, a min‐
iature picture, but not the less
French sky, it is a very turquoise, the sea is a
French sea in every thing but its want of motion
the air is French air, none of your English bois‐
terous sea puffs that blow the dust in your eyes
when you wish to be particularly clear sighted.
No, it is a mere breath, you canʼt call it a breeze
yet bearing a delicious, a balmy coolness, and a
little, a very little smell of the sea. Look at the
fishing boats, they are peculiarly French, and
particularly clumsy. The red tattered shapeless
sail the undistinguishable resemblance of stem
to stern, the porpoise like manner in which the
vessel labours through the water, the incorrigible
disorder that reigns on board, the confusion of
fish out of water with men, — that are at least
out of their element, would mark a french fish‐
ing boat, whatever quarter of the world it
might happen to be driven to.
ly vapourless, and have that peculiarly awk‐
ward look incident to all useless things. And
look at the people, the countenance, the costume
the tout ensemble is altogether different from
any thing you ever saw in England, and
yet Englands cliffs are on the horizon, half an
hours might see you beneath them, 4 — It is
most extraordinary. —