For this purpose, the stranger on his arrival at Margate, must
take the path leading to the cliff's, eastward of the town, and after
walking a little way with the sea on his left hand, he will pass,
at intervals, certain neat, though gloomy looking cottages, chiefly
remarkable for an odd, military aspect, strongly reminding one of a red
jacket turned up with white. These, perched like the eagle's eyry on the
very edge and summit of those crested heights that "breast the billows
foam," are the _preventive stations_, inhabited by the _dumb_ and
isolated members of the blockade. These men will now be seen for the
rest of the journey, mounted on the jutting crags, straining their weary
eyes over the monotonous expanse of waters which for ever splash beneath
them--a sullen accompaniment to their gloomy avocations.
On a first sight of these men, you are ready to exclaim with Mercutio,
"Oh, flesh! how art thou fishified;" and begin to think that Shakspeare
might have had a living original for his horrid Caliban: for they are
mostly selected from amongst fishermen, on account of their excellent
knowledge of the coast, and most perfectly retain their amphibious
characteristics.
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