Delaware gazette and state journal. (Wilmington, Del.) 1883-1902, 1893-01-05
ODD INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL
The Experience of Crossing
the English Channel.
A VOYAGE OF MISERY AND WOE
Valuable Points on Tripping"
in England.
How Half-penny. Rightfuiiy and Grace
fully Given, WIN Accomplish More
Than n Shilling--The Home of Robert
Burns, Scotland's Great Poet.

LONDON, DGC. SS.-l pray AL Vi you |
who are to follow after in European |
jaunts, never to cross the English chan |
mel between Dover and Calais save by |
day. 1t has always been my grewsome |
fortune to make the passage by night |
and in storm.
1t is pleasant surely from the time our
train leaves the grim London house. tops,
all the way in the evening cleaning
through the lovely shire Of Kent but
the roar of the sea is always louder
upon the great stone quays than the din
of our fast night mail, as we rush in
upon quaint old Dover town.
A moment at the station, and then we
creep along the docks and come along
side the royal mail steamer; hustled out
Of our wheeled, half-lighted cells and
driven like unwilling cattle down the
slippery descent and up over the gang
way which seesaws with desperate sug-
gestions of danger; and are finally hauled
aboard the rocking craft like the faint
hearted land lubbers we are.
"First-cass aft Secondclass for'di"
Sorting us like sheep, we arc at last
huddled aboard the Foam--most appro-
pirate name, for even here at the docks
the sea is SO wild that its spume is dashed
over us; the luggage and continental
mail are somehow taken on; and, with
great lurch from which the steel
ribbed though diminutiye and shell-like
craft only RECEIVERS to be hurled vio-
lently in another direction, our steamer
fairly began its ricocheting across the
channel.
Behind us, nestled in one Of the most
charming ravines in all England, is an
cient Dover town, with its lights wind
ing away 10 the westward and blinking
from the sides of the cliff; while the
great Dover light house flames out
upon the channel and brings into
weird outlines the stupendous castel-
lated Notifications upon mighty Dover
Heights.
You are instantly plunged into the
plain, old fashioned misery of sea-sick-
ness You do not go indoors, for all
those nice people who must be quite as
used to channel boat as a ferry would
surely notice you were becoming i'll.
On the other hand all the terrOrs of the
deep and of approaching physical help
lessness, are resultant from your en-.
forced acrobatic feats upon deck.
Between humiliation and possible
death, in sheer desperation you choose
disgrace. Your hand is upon the cabin
door but seems palsied. No, you will
seek the second-class cabin, ford"
They will be less critical there. Its door
is but fifty feet away, but where is
Drawer pilgrimage than this? 1t seems
an age until You have been able to
throw yourself down the winding stair
way into the strange triangular cabin
below.
Ugh!-tho odor of the place, its
subtle dread and subtler qualms will
always possess you whenever your
crossing Of the English channel returns
as II hatefnl blot upon your memory.
Under the stairway, from behind a
cresccnt-shaped bar, two Tom Thumb
like tiny old boys, attired like men.of-
wars men, are dispensing liquors and
ales at u lively rate Every male in the
cabin is smoking, somG at the same time
munching food at the sloppy lunch
table, where the dishes click and slip
with u greasy grind with the lurching
of the vessel. Through the noXious
vapors, and us il far away and in All
oppressive dream, you see, at either side
of the cabin and III tiers, each beyond
and slightly higher than another, in
amphitheatre form OF arrangement,
capacious hunks. Each il provided
with leather.eacased cushion, serge
covered pillow and a sunken cuspidore;
and nearly all of these hunks are occu-
pied by men and women in every i'm
Aginable attitude of human suffering, OF
of preparation against torturing expert
ence.
Over there is a party of Americans
evidently an entire family. They arr
cursing everything outside of America
and struggling with each other as theil
physical commissions increase. Beyond
are several friars in brown and gray
perhaps from some OF the French
cloisters beyond Amicns, sober anC
grave in their rough habit and cowls
bearing their misery with wonderful
fortitude. Opposite are stolid CONNER
cial travellers, silent Jews, and French
menful OF antics in their torture, witt
Frenchwomen, graceful and pretty ever
in this most remorselessiy levelingo of al
human ills, an English channel sCa-slck
ness. ~.
The horrible air and scenes of thi
cabin force you with Others back upol
deck, where the steamers rail at on
side catches you i'll its banging grip T.
hurl you to the iron netting embrace 0
the other. There is no escape Al
bravery, resolution and supreme vii
power are OF noavail. You recall in al
ccstacy Of hopelessness that no channC
steamer was ever lost With Iii
thought all possibility of relief is aban
doned For good hour every aspiru
ton and ambition of life is swept away
You grovel and slide and slop as lin
as a strand Of cold macconi upon til
night mail steamers deck; for ute
exhaustion has come.
But at last the Dracing storm whic
has whipped the channel into foal
pounds new life into you. The sa
spray dashes into you face and revive
you. You crawl to where the four gril
wheelmen are, for in the cutting win
there is faint odor of the land. III
chief wheeman comforts You with:
"Doan't mind it, mon. l'he best thel
be doant be able to stand on their les
here abouts J"
Away to the right is now seen I'll
light at the French cape of Gri2 Ne
Soon your steamer begins skirting II
coast Here and there are glintings an
glimmerings OF light from the coas
wise villages, where the late reVel {
vigil is being kept The pier-head ligi
at Calais grows and glows. Over Il
looming quay where the sea plays mt
havoc Is u continuous wreathing
flashing phosphorescence. Speedi
now your steamer literally gallops I'M
port.
Here at one side arc the fantastic tis
ing-craft and the belying Fighters
AT the other, as the bedraggled passel
gers crowd to the gangway opening, a