Chapter 4 Chapter Four Down the Clyde

The next day is August 2nd.Early in the morning, Miss Campbell boarded the train at Helensburgh Station, accompanied by the Melville brothers, Mrs. Beth, and Partridge. They had to go to Glasgow for the steamer, as the daily steamer between Glasgow and Oban did not call at the coastal seaports. At seven o'clock the train dropped the five passengers at Glasgow Station, where they rode in a carriage to Brumla Bridge. There the steamer Columbia waited for her passengers; the black smoke from her two chimneys mingled with the mist on the Clyde which had begun to recede, and the leaden discs of the sun shone through. A few strands of golden light.Another sunny day.

After the luggage was loaded, Miss Campbell and her traveling companions were soon on board. At this time, the bell is rung for the third and final time, to call those who are not yet aboard.The mechanic started the boat, and the blades of the oars caused strings of yellow-black bubbles in the water.After a flute sounded, the cable was untied, and the Columbia went downstream. In the United Kingdom, it's not good manners for passengers to be picky and picky.These ubiquitous luxury steamships are owned by shipping companies. The waterways, the inner harbor and the bay are very narrow, and the luxury steamboats that come and go every day plow the waves in the bay.No wonder there is so much traffic on the Clyde.Along the steamboat quays along Bromella Street smoked steamers moored, their hulls painted in the brightest colors, gold and vermilion.They are always ready to go in all directions.

So did the Columbia.She had a long hull, a tapered bow, and a thin water-line, and was equipped with a powerful machine driving gears of great diameter, so that she was very fast.The saloon and dining-room were of the utmost comfort, and the spacious light deck, shaded by a pendant canopy, had some upholstered benches and chairs--a true platform, with fine The railings went up.Here passengers can bathe in the fresh air and lean on the railing to overlook. There are really many tourists.They come from different places, Scottish and English.August is the golden season for travel.Travel to the Firth of Clyde and the Hebrides is especially popular.Among the passengers, some were dispatched by the whole family, and the harmony of their families was generously blessed by the heavens; the young girls on board were lively and lovely, the boys were quiet and unrestrained, and the children were accustomed to the anecdotes during the journey; there were some priests among the passengers, They were always numerous on steamboats, wearing tall silk hats, long black frock coats with straight collars, and white ties trimmed with lace over their shawl waistcoats; Straight Scottish toques, their slightly clumsy demeanor recalled the small Scottish landowners of sixty years ago; there were about half a dozen foreigners on board, Germans among them, who still looked very well outside of Germany. Seriously, and, besides, three or four Frenchmen who, even outside of France, could not lose their gallant nature.

If Miss Campbell, like other Scotch ladies, had sat in a corner upon embarkation, and remained motionless throughout the voyage, she would have had no need to turn her head to enjoy the view of the banks of the Clyde which passed before her.But she likes to run around, at the stern for a while, and at the bow for a while, watching the continuous towns and villages scattered on both sides of the river.As a result, her companions, Sam and Seb, were busy on the journey from Glasgow to Oban, answering her questions, confirming her observations, and agreeing with her. Lehu, not even an hour of rest time.However, they didn't even think about whining because that was their job.Instinctively they followed Miss Campbell, taking alternate pinches of snuff from time to time, and they were in a very good mood.

Lady Bess and Partridge sat in the forward half of the light deck, talking fondly of lost times, vanished customs, and broken old families.Where are these fond memories of the past?At that time the clear waters of the Clyde had not been lost in factory fumes, nor had the muffled thud of steamboat hammers echoed on either side of the river, nor had its waters been altered by the passing of thousands of steamboats. It was muddy. "The old days will reappear, perhaps even faster than people imagine." Mrs. Beth said in a very sure tone. "I look forward to this day." Partridge said solemnly. "This way we can see the ancient customs of our ancestors again!"

The scenery on both sides of the Clyde River moves rapidly from the bow of the Columbia to the stern, like a pair of ever-changing moving pages.The village of Patrick looms on the right side of the river bank, at the mouth of the Kelvin River, and has a shipyard for iron ships, across the river from the shipyard of the village of Govan on the opposite bank.The clanging of iron objects could be heard everywhere here, coupled with the lingering smoke and steam, it made the eyes and ears of Partridge and Mrs. Bess extremely uncomfortable. The noise of industry and the smoke full of charcoal gradually disappeared, and the shipyards, covered docks, tall chimneys of factories and huge iron scaffolding like animal cages in zoos gradually disappeared, replaced by chic The houses, villas shaded by trees and Anglo-Saxon houses scattered among the green hills.

These country houses and villas form an unbroken chain that stretches from one city to another. After passing the town of Rivoyo, which sits on the left bank of the river, the Colpatrick Hills emerge behind the village of the same name on the right bank of the river, and any Irishman who passes by will know: St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland was born here. Up to this point the Clyde was a real river, and thence down it began to be an arm of the sea.Lady Bess and Partridge pay homage to the ruins of Douglas Castle, which reminds people of Scotland's past history, but their eyes quickly turn to the obelisk erected in honor of Harry Bell The gears of the inventor of the first motorized boat are disrupting calm waters.

Tourists hold Murray in their hands and look at the site of Dunm Barton Castle towering on basalt a few miles away. It is about 500 feet high. The tallest of the two conical tops is called "Wallace's Seat". A hero in the struggle for Scottish independence. At this moment a gentleman standing at the top of the gangway--whom he was neither entreated nor supposed to have ulterior motives--thought it necessary to give a little instructive lecture on history to his traveling companions.Half an hour later, every passenger on the Columbia, barring the deaf, knew that Dum Barton Castle was probably originally built by the Romans and became a royal fortress in the early twelfth century; after the Treaty of Union, It became one of the four impregnable fortresses of the Kingdom of Scotland; in 1548, Mary Stuttgart set off for France from the port here, and her combination with Franzwa II made her a "short-lived one-day queen"; Castrig's cabinet was imprisoned here in 1815 before being imprisoned on St. Helena.

"How instructive!" said Sam. "It's not only educational, it's fun," Seab said. "This gentleman deserves our praise!" The two thought that every word of the lecture must not be missed, and they also praised this temporary teacher.Miss Campbell, who was lost in thought, heard nothing.At least for now, these things don't interest her in the slightest.As for Caderose Castle, on the right bank of the river, where Robert the Bruce died, she did not even glance.Sea level, that's what she was looking for persistently with her eyes.But they could not see the sea level until the Columbia was out of the series of banks, headlands, and hills that encircled the Firth of Clyde.The small town of Helensburgh, the Port of Glasgow, the ruins of Newmark Castle and the Rosenhead Peninsula that the steamboat passed by, she could see from the window of the villa every day.She wondered if the steamboat could sail the stream in the garden.

Farther away, at the dock at the mouth of the city of Greenock, nearly a hundred steamboats crowded together, and Miss Campbell's thoughts seemed to get lost in these steamboats.The immortal Watt was born in this city of 400,000 people, which seems to be the industrial and commercial frontier of Glasgow.But how much did all this mean to Miss Campbell?Why did her gaze stop three miles away at the villages of Gurok on the left bank of the river and Danjan on the right, at the jagged fjords?These fjords are eroding the outer sandbars of Argyll, hollowing them out like the coast of Norway. No!Miss Campbell was searching anxiously with her eyes for the ruins of Levin Tower.Does she want to see a mischievous elf there?Not at all.She wanted to be the first to see the Croker Lighthouse, which illuminated the mouth of the Firth of Clyde.

At last the lighthouse appeared at the corner of the river bank, and it was like a huge beacon. "Klock Lighthouse, Uncle Sam, Klock, Klock." "Yes, Kroc." Sam's answer was curt like any other Highlander's. "The sea, Uncle Sib." "It's the sea," replied Sieb. "How beautiful!" The two uncles exclaimed together. They spoke in such a way that one might even think that they were seeing the sea for the first time. That's right, the bay is getting wider and wider, and the sea level is also showing up. Yet the sun has not yet completed half of its day.At fifty-six degrees of declination, it would be another seven hours before it disappeared into the sea—Miss Campbell couldn't help but wait seven hours!In addition, the sea level here is in the southwest, and the sun only passes over the solitary sea there during the winter solstice.You won't find the green light there; to find it, you'll have to keep heading west and slightly north, since early August is six weeks away from September's solstice. It doesn't matter.Now the sea lay before Miss Campbell.Passing between the Komlin Islands and the island of Bart whose outline is as soft as a stroke with a brush, beyond the Esla-Krun ridge and the Aran Mountains, the line where the water meets the sky can't be seen at a glance, And it is very clear as if it was drawn with a straight line pen. Miss Campbell was completely lost in thought, staring there, without saying a word.She stood motionless on the gangway.The sun cast a shrunken shadow at her feet.She seemed to be measuring the length of the solitary line between where the luminous orb was now and the point where its disc would dip into the waters of the Hebrides... if only the now clear sky would not at dusk Shrouded in mist! A voice woke her from her dream. "It's time." It was Uncle Sib who spoke. "What time is it? What time is it, Uncle?" "It's lunch time," said Sam. "Go to lunch!" replied Miss Campbell.