England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Love stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
The Northern Ocean beyond burst its way in through the gaps of ruin;
and from that time the Zuyder Zee existed as we know it now. The years
advanced, the generations of man succeeded each other; and on the shores
of the new ocean there rose great and populous cities, rich in commerce,
renowned in history. For centuries their prosperity lasted, before
the next in this mighty series of changes ripened and revealed itself.
Isolated from the rest of the world, vain of themselves and their good
fortune, careless of the march of progress in the nations round them,
the inhabitants of the Zuyder Zee cities sunk into the fatal torpor of
a secluded people. The few members of the population who still preserved
the relics of their old energy emigrated, while the mass left behind
resignedly witnessed the diminution of their commerce and the decay of
their institutions. As the years advanced to the nineteenth century, the
population was reckoned by hundreds where it had once been numbered by
thousands. Trade disappeared; whole streets were left desolate. Harbors,
once filled with shipping, were destroyed by the unresisted accumulation
of sand. In our own times the decay of these once flourishing cities is
so completely beyond remedy, that the next great change in contemplation
is the draining of the now dangerous and useless tract of water, and
the profitable cultivation of the reclaimed land by generations that are
still to come. Such, briefly told, is the strange story of the Zuyder
Zee.
As we advanced on our voyage, and left the river, I noticed the tawny
hue of the sea, caused by sand-banks which color the shallow water, and
which make the navigation dangerous to inexperienced seamen. We found
our moorings for the night at the fishing island of Marken--a low,
lost, desolate-looking place, as I saw it under the last gleams of the
twilight. Here and there, the gabled cottages, perched on hillocks, rose
black against the dim gray sky. Here and there, a human figure appeared
at the waterside, standing, fixed in contemplation of the strange boat.
And that was all I saw of the island of Marken.
Lying awake in the still night, alone on a strange sea, there were
moments when I found myself beginning to doubt the reality of my own
position.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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