At that time, the steam-traffic on the Thames was far below its present

extent, and watermen's boats were far more numerous. Of barges, sailing

colliers, and coasting-traders, there were perhaps, as many as now;

but of steam-ships, great and small, not a tithe or a twentieth part

so many. Early as it was, there were plenty of scullers going here and

there that morning, and plenty of barges dropping down with the tide;

the navigation of the river between bridges, in an open boat, was a much

easier and commoner matter in those days than it is in these; and we

went ahead among many skiffs and wherries briskly.

Old London Bridge was soon passed, and old Billingsgate Market with its

oyster-boats and Dutchmen, and the White Tower and Traitor's Gate, and

we were in among the tiers of shipping. Here were the Leith, Aberdeen,

and Glasgow steamers, loading and unloading goods, and looking immensely

high out of the water as we passed alongside; here, were colliers by the

score and score, with the coal-whippers plunging off stages on deck, as

counterweights to measures of coal swinging up, which were then rattled

over the side into barges; here, at her moorings was to-morrow's steamer

for Rotterdam, of which we took good notice; and here to-morrow's for

Hamburg, under whose bowsprit we crossed. And now I, sitting in the

stern, could see, with a faster beating heart, Mill Pond Bank and Mill

Pond stairs.

"Is he there?" said Herbert.

"Not yet."

"Right! He was not to come down till he saw us. Can you see his signal?"

"Not well from here; but I think I see it.--Now I see him! Pull both.

Easy, Herbert. Oars!"

We touched the stairs lightly for a single moment, and he was on board,

and we were off again. He had a boat-cloak with him, and a black canvas

bag; and he looked as like a river-pilot as my heart could have wished.

"Dear boy!" he said, putting his arm on my shoulder, as he took his

seat. "Faithful dear boy, well done. Thankye, thankye!"

Again among the tiers of shipping, in and out, avoiding rusty

chain-cables frayed hempen hawsers and bobbing buoys, sinking for the

moment floating broken baskets, scattering floating chips of wood

and shaving, cleaving floating scum of coal, in and out, under the

figure-head of the John of Sunderland making a speech to the winds (as

is done by many Johns), and the Betsy of Yarmouth with a firm formality

of bosom and her knobby eyes starting two inches out of her head; in

and out, hammers going in ship-builders' yards, saws going at timber,

clashing engines going at things unknown, pumps going in leaky ships,

capstans going, ships going out to sea, and unintelligible sea-creatures

roaring curses over the bulwarks at respondent lightermen, in and

out,--out at last upon the clearer river, where the ships' boys might

take their fenders in, no longer fishing in troubled waters with them

over the side, and where the festooned sails might fly out to the wind.




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