DOI Heft:
No. 16 (July, 1894)
DOI Artikel:Marshall, Herbert: Letters from artists to artists, [8], London (second letter)
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17190#0125
London as a Sketching Ground
straggling street running from Westminster to
Blackfriars. Arrived at the latter place, a subway
under the station opposite will bring you again
down to the level of the river, and after a short
walk you find yourself at Bankside, a quaint old-
fashioned quay between Southvvark and Cannon
Street bridges. Heaps of old iron and of broken
glass lie along the bank, and dealers in this
apparently useless commodity live hard by. Billy-
boys and schooners from Grimsby and Gloucester
are often to be found moored alongside, picking
FORESHORE AT STEPNEY
up whatever is available for ballast for their home-
ward voyage. Go down to the river just above
Blackfriars some summer evening about 9.30 when
the tide is low, and look across to the quaint out-
line of the Temple and Law Courts rising brown
against the pale green northern sky. The tugs
have taken up their moorings for the night, the
last river steamer is discharging her passenger
freight at the Temple Stairs, the lights are swaying
to and fro in reflected bands of red and gold ; and
as you watch the scene you fancy yourself trans-
ported from the world's great workshop to a quiet
riverside town in the Netherlands.
The first pier below bridge is Cherry Garden,
and I should advise you to go ashore and walk
down Rotherhithe Street towards the Surrey
Docks. Mr. Besant describes the neighbourhood
" as little known as the dead cities of the Zuyder
Zee. It possesses no railway, no cabstand, no
omnibus runs thither. It is, to begin with, a
street which seems to have been laid down so as
to get as much as possible out of the way of the
ships which press upon it north and south. Ships
stick their bows almost across the road, the figure-
heads staring impertinently into first-floor windows
BY HERBERT MARSHALL
If you pass a small court or wynd, of which there
are many, with little green-shuttered houses, you
see ships at the end of it, with sails hanging
loosely from the yard-arms. On the left you pass
a row of dry-docks. They are all exactly alike,
they are built to accommodate one vessel, but
rarely more : if you look in no one questions your
right of entrance, and if you have seen one you
have seen them all." If you are observant, you will
descry here and there in the boundary walls and
inhospitable-looking palings a dirty door with no
handle, but with a shiny patch about the height of
a man's hand. Never miss pushing courageously
against it—these doors are swing-doors, and the
109
T 1 •
straggling street running from Westminster to
Blackfriars. Arrived at the latter place, a subway
under the station opposite will bring you again
down to the level of the river, and after a short
walk you find yourself at Bankside, a quaint old-
fashioned quay between Southvvark and Cannon
Street bridges. Heaps of old iron and of broken
glass lie along the bank, and dealers in this
apparently useless commodity live hard by. Billy-
boys and schooners from Grimsby and Gloucester
are often to be found moored alongside, picking
FORESHORE AT STEPNEY
up whatever is available for ballast for their home-
ward voyage. Go down to the river just above
Blackfriars some summer evening about 9.30 when
the tide is low, and look across to the quaint out-
line of the Temple and Law Courts rising brown
against the pale green northern sky. The tugs
have taken up their moorings for the night, the
last river steamer is discharging her passenger
freight at the Temple Stairs, the lights are swaying
to and fro in reflected bands of red and gold ; and
as you watch the scene you fancy yourself trans-
ported from the world's great workshop to a quiet
riverside town in the Netherlands.
The first pier below bridge is Cherry Garden,
and I should advise you to go ashore and walk
down Rotherhithe Street towards the Surrey
Docks. Mr. Besant describes the neighbourhood
" as little known as the dead cities of the Zuyder
Zee. It possesses no railway, no cabstand, no
omnibus runs thither. It is, to begin with, a
street which seems to have been laid down so as
to get as much as possible out of the way of the
ships which press upon it north and south. Ships
stick their bows almost across the road, the figure-
heads staring impertinently into first-floor windows
BY HERBERT MARSHALL
If you pass a small court or wynd, of which there
are many, with little green-shuttered houses, you
see ships at the end of it, with sails hanging
loosely from the yard-arms. On the left you pass
a row of dry-docks. They are all exactly alike,
they are built to accommodate one vessel, but
rarely more : if you look in no one questions your
right of entrance, and if you have seen one you
have seen them all." If you are observant, you will
descry here and there in the boundary walls and
inhospitable-looking palings a dirty door with no
handle, but with a shiny patch about the height of
a man's hand. Never miss pushing courageously
against it—these doors are swing-doors, and the
109
T 1 •