DOI Heft:
No. 54 (August, 1901)
DOI Artikel:Emanuel, Frank L.: Le Tréport as a sketching ground
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.22775#0145
Le Treport
picturesque Calvary a
tangled mass of masts,
rigging, and much be-
patched sails leads the eye
to the solid mass of the old
church, while on the right
the line of quayside shops,
broken by the turret of the
Hotel de Ville, serves a
similar purpose. The whole
scene is backed by gently
undulating hills. Naturally,
the fish-market, with its
little rickety stalls presided
over by the life-boat bell,
its little commercial battles,
its fish auctions, and its
general flicker of light and
splashes of colour, is full
of interest to the painter.
Skirting the market is
that portion of the harbour-side most dear to anglers.
Their rods always make fascinating lines against
the sky. From here we pass on to the favourite
lounging-place of Treport, namely, the pier. This
pier is not an ideal lounging-place, for every now
and then, accompanied by hoarse shouts, and utterly
regardless of such human obstacles as day-dreamers,
rushes a motley line of men and women, panting as
they push forward with the rope that is hauling
some stout barque through the narrow way to the
sea. Then, just as the lounger has recovered
himself and comfortably settled again, back they
HARBOUR MOUTH, TREPORT
BY F. L. EMANUEL
SUNSET IN TREPORT HARBOUR
come, after having taken a turn round a wheel at
the pier head, enjoying immensely the fun of
scaring once more “ces types de Paris.” This
narrow, crowded, little pier has a deal of character
of its own; the more townward half of its length is
supported on wooden trestles, between which the
life boat runs downrails into the harbour. The pier
then rises a few steps, the higher portion being built
of stone, and joined by a branch from the beach.
The light house at the end is a good point of
vantage. In one direction are the towering cliffs
which seem to threaten the dainty lower town
nestling so confidently at
their base. This range
of cliffs ends in a bold
headland, and their line is
only taken up again, where,
in the dim distance, Dieppe
may be faintly discerned.
The sea is alive with fishing
craft, their sails all patched
and mended, varied here
and there by some crazy
old coasting schooner.
Looking east, across a
tiny bay, lies Treport’s half-
sister, Mers, a gay little
coquette of a rival, pre-
senting a frontage of pretty
villas and a fine casino,
with a new town spring-
ing up behind them, thus
BY F. l. EMANUEL effectually hiding from
99
picturesque Calvary a
tangled mass of masts,
rigging, and much be-
patched sails leads the eye
to the solid mass of the old
church, while on the right
the line of quayside shops,
broken by the turret of the
Hotel de Ville, serves a
similar purpose. The whole
scene is backed by gently
undulating hills. Naturally,
the fish-market, with its
little rickety stalls presided
over by the life-boat bell,
its little commercial battles,
its fish auctions, and its
general flicker of light and
splashes of colour, is full
of interest to the painter.
Skirting the market is
that portion of the harbour-side most dear to anglers.
Their rods always make fascinating lines against
the sky. From here we pass on to the favourite
lounging-place of Treport, namely, the pier. This
pier is not an ideal lounging-place, for every now
and then, accompanied by hoarse shouts, and utterly
regardless of such human obstacles as day-dreamers,
rushes a motley line of men and women, panting as
they push forward with the rope that is hauling
some stout barque through the narrow way to the
sea. Then, just as the lounger has recovered
himself and comfortably settled again, back they
HARBOUR MOUTH, TREPORT
BY F. L. EMANUEL
SUNSET IN TREPORT HARBOUR
come, after having taken a turn round a wheel at
the pier head, enjoying immensely the fun of
scaring once more “ces types de Paris.” This
narrow, crowded, little pier has a deal of character
of its own; the more townward half of its length is
supported on wooden trestles, between which the
life boat runs downrails into the harbour. The pier
then rises a few steps, the higher portion being built
of stone, and joined by a branch from the beach.
The light house at the end is a good point of
vantage. In one direction are the towering cliffs
which seem to threaten the dainty lower town
nestling so confidently at
their base. This range
of cliffs ends in a bold
headland, and their line is
only taken up again, where,
in the dim distance, Dieppe
may be faintly discerned.
The sea is alive with fishing
craft, their sails all patched
and mended, varied here
and there by some crazy
old coasting schooner.
Looking east, across a
tiny bay, lies Treport’s half-
sister, Mers, a gay little
coquette of a rival, pre-
senting a frontage of pretty
villas and a fine casino,
with a new town spring-
ing up behind them, thus
BY F. l. EMANUEL effectually hiding from
99