The Days of My Life: An AutobiographyOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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The Days of My Life: An Autobiography
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret), 1828-1897
It was a peaceful solitary village; a cluster of houses gathered round
one simple church, the tower of which was the central point in the quiet
landscape. Behind it at some distance was a low hill--a very low
hill--not much more than a mound, but with some dark Scotch firs upon
it, which gave solidity to the thick plantation of lighter trees, not
yet fully clothed. Behind the hill ran a railway, upon which a train
appeared, which we watched, flaunting its white plume into the air, as
it shrieked and rushed into the shadow. The village itself was quite
upon the water's edge, standing close by the shore of a blue quiet bay,
looking over to the trees and green fields on the other side of the
broad Thames. The place was a little below Gravesend, quite out of the
fret and bustle of the narrower river, and there was not even a
steamboat pier to disturb the quiet of this cluster of harmless houses,
though they watched upon their beach the passage of great navies down
the greatest thoroughfare of England. It looked so quiet, so primitive,
so retired, with its few boats in its little bay, that you could not
have fancied it so near the Babel of the world. The spring day was
bright and calm; the river was stirred only by the great ripples of its
current; the white sails of passing ships were dazzling in the sunshine,
and you could even catch a glimpse of the dancing motes of foam on the
rougher sea-water, as it widened and widened downward to the ocean.
Though there were few striking features in the landscape, it charmed me
with its new and unaccustomed beauty. It won my thoughts out of myself;
I was pleased to think of living here.
There was scarcely anything to be called an inn in Elith,--but as we had
no other where to go to, we went to the little humble house which bore
the name, and were shown into a faded little parlor, where such visitors
as we were seldom made their appearance, I suppose, and which was
certainly adapted for very different guests. Alice was much more annoyed
and disturbed than I was at coming here; I am afraid she almost thought
her respectability compromised by the glimpse we caught of the
aborigines of the place, smoking long pipes and drinking beer as we came
in, and she was nervous and reluctant to be seen at the window, whither
I had gone immediately, to look out upon this wonderful elysium of water
and sunshine; then occurred to me the strangest silent ecstasy in these
ships, their sails rounded with the slight wind, and shining with such
an intense whiteness in the sunshine against the blue river and the
bluer sky. They seemed to be gliding on in a dream--in a rapture--and my
mind glided on with them, for the moment satisfied and at rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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