Part 43

Back from or on the other side of the main street, there are many other hotels and pensions, among which may be mentioned, west of the Carrei, the Splendide (on Gaze’s list), a comfortable hotel within a garden; the Hotel du Parc, on the avenue leading to the railway station, with good rooms, although the entrance or site is not promising. On the east side of the Carrei and some way up beyond the railway, which it dominates, the Hotel du Louvre, a large, well–appointed hotel, apparently frequented by Germans and Dutch; behind it, and rather higher, there is the great Hotel des Îles Britanniques, commanding good views, in every respect first class, patronized by the English (though not exclusively so, one long table being set for the English and another long one for the foreigners). The landlord claims it to be the most expensive hotel in Mentone. Both these last–mentioned hotels are near to the railway station, but carriages have to make a circuit to reach them. Both are under shelter of an olive–covered hill rising high and steep immediately behind, which also affords similar shelter to the Hotels des Princes, Venise, D’Orient, Turin, and others, lying nearly in a line to the eastward. The D’Orient and Turin have both gardens in front,—that of the former is large, and in the garden of the latter a bed of roses flourishes in full flower all the winter through. Both are good houses, but the views from the windows and grounds are confined, and street houses shut them out almost entirely from the view of the sea. If, however, view be not considered important, the position is comparatively sheltered. There are also about this part several pensions, such as the ‘Des Alpes,’—a small house, and moderate charges.

In the east bay, after passing the old town, which in the afternoon always casts a dank shadow on the part of the road which underlies it, called the Quai Bonaparte, requiring the invalid to take special precautions, and passing the drain pipe, the first hotel met is the Grande Bretagne, one of the oldest houses. It is that upon Cook’s list for Mentone, and consequently seems to be always well filled. Up on the height behind, a little to the eastward, are the Hotels d’Italie and Belle Vue, both comfortable; but the ascent to them is steep, the fatigue being, however, rewarded by the fine view from the terraces and windows. Returning to the road below, which is a part of the Corniche, we observe the East English Church, and next to it the Hotel de la Paix close to the street, but having a garden to the back. Facing it across the road is the only bathing establishment of Mentone. Adjoining its east side, but back from the road within a garden, the Hotel des Anglais where Dr. Bennett obtains his quarters. A little beyond, a small piece of ground, probably an acre in extent, has recently been acquired and laid out as a public garden, in which the band occasionally plays; and amidst a cluster of other hotels and pensions farther east, the Grand Hotel, a comfortable, large house, charging moderately. If the visitor prefer or is recommended to reside in the east bay, he will find the extreme east (called the Quartier Garavent, though so much farther from town, and though hot and dusty) is the choicer situation. There is, however, an omnibus to town every hour from the far east to about the Hotel du Pavillon, at the extreme west end.

[20] A recently–published guide–book to the south of France says, with regard to Mentone:—’A kind of gloom pervades Menton. The strip of ground on which it stands is narrow, and so are the streets.’ ‘The valleys are narrow and sombre. The roads up the mountains are steep, badly paved, and are generally traversed on donkeys, which go slowly and require so much chastisement that an ordinary walker will find it less fatiguing to dispense with them.’ It also sets down the population at 12,000, and that of Cannes, by far the larger town, at 7000. These are statements which require revision, as they do not accord with the facts.

[21] See Frontispiece.

[22] It is impossible to place reliance on the exactness of such figures. They must throughout be taken as obtained from different sources, and possibly in no one case correct. I should, for example, here doubt whether Castiglione stands as high as the castle of Ste. Agnese.

[23] It is the custom in the Riviera, and probably elsewhere in France, to give free of charge, to those who are on pension, their lunch to take with them on such excursions, which they would otherwise have had at the hotel.

[24] At Biarritz a different practice prevails. Instead of beating the linen, the linen is employed to beat the stone. We have seen a lady’s fancy petticoat thus thrashed against the stones without mercy.

[25] The expense of washing at Mentone, though not moderate, is less than in Paris.

[26] Mr. C. Home–Douglas (p. 177) publishes observations giving much lower mean temperatures. I suppose in these matters observers seldom agree.

[27] I shall use henceforth franc for lira, the Italian name, for simplicity’s sake.

[28] The ceremony of baptism in the Greek Church is even more trying to the poor child. See _The Englishwoman in Russia_, p. 265.

[29] I have since seen a different account given of this stone.

[30] So called from its colossal size. It is sometimes spelt Coliseum, a corruption of the word.

[31] The arena of Nismes is 148 by 112 yards, height 74 feet, and accommodated 32,000 spectators; arena, 74 by 42 yards. The Colosseum, 205 by 170 yards, height 156 feet, accommodating 87,000 spectators (besides containing standing room for 23,000 more in the porticoes and surrounding passages); arena, 93 by 58 yards. But in stating these and other measurements, it is always right to keep in mind that in different books the figures do not correspond, and one well–informed and most reliable writer states the dimensions of the Colosseum at about 40 feet more each way than the above. Mr. Storey’s figures for the Colosseum also vary from the above several yards in each measurement. For a pretty full account of the Colosseum, reference may be made to Storey’s _Roba di Roma_, vol. i. chap. ix.

[32] The extent, however, is variously computed. One writer, generally very exact, says: ‘According to Romani and Nibby’s plan of Rome,’ Caracalla’s baths ‘covered an area of 370 yards square, or 28 English acres.’ ‘Eustace makes the extent twice as great.’ Gibbon states that they were a mile in circumference, which would be 193,600 square yards, or 40 acres. Hare says they covered a space of 2,625,000 square yards, which is equal to 542 acres. It is not improbable that some measurements may refer merely to the ground covered by buildings, and that others comprehend ground not so covered. But even this explanation will not account for such extraordinary discrepancies.

[33] Bædeker says: ‘At the back of the Pantheon are situated the ruins of the Thermæ of Agrippa, the proximity of which to the Pantheon once gave rise to the absurd conjecture that the temple originally belonged to the baths, and was afterwards converted into a temple.’ In a matter of this kind, however, the authority of such a man as Mr. Thomson is much to be preferred to that of any writer in a guide–book.

[34] It seems that at _Tre Fontane_, above a mile westward, which we did not visit, the Eucalyptus tree has now been largely planted; and if it will grow, it is expected to render the locality healthy.

[35] Miss Kate Thompson’s _Handbook to the Public Picture Galleries of Europe_, Macmillan, 1877, is a useful little volume in its way, but its illustration would occupy volumes.

[36] After being in several shops, we concluded that C. Roccheggiani, Via Condotti, had the largest and most varied stock.

[37] This number is stated upon an authority which differs in the further figures here given, some of which seem almost incredibly large. How the 9025 baths can be reconciled with the statement (p. 299) of sixteen bathing establishments, I do not pretend to say.

[38] I see it stated that in 1851 the number of Romish priests in Great Britain was 958; of Romish chapels, 683; of monasteries, 17; of religious houses for women, 53. In 1879 these numbers were increased to 1238, 1386, 118, and 272 respectively. The number of the laity doubtless has increased, though possibly, and as it is to be hoped, not correspondingly.

[39] So named after the present proprietrix, Mme. Barbensi. It seems quite a foreign or at least an Italian practice to call houses after the name of the proprietor. Molini was either her maiden name or the name of the previous proprietor.

[40] ‘Were I now to begin the world again, I would tread in the steps of that great master; to kiss the hem of his garment, to catch the slightest of his perfections, would be glory and distinction enough for an ambitious man.’—15th Discourse.

[41] A large valuable work in small folio, copiously illustrated—veritable volumes _de luxe_—has recently been published: ‘_Venise: Histoire, Art, Industrie, la Ville, la Vie._ Par Charles Yriarte.’

[42] Here, as in other things, measurements differ, one authority having it 443 feet long, another 477 feet, interior measurement. Though it may be shorter than St. Paul’s of London, it is no doubt considerably wider, and covers, therefore, a greater area.

[43] It is stated in one book that in December 1845 the thermometer registered as low as-82·90°, equal to about-185° Fahr. This was incredible; and on looking the Austrian official records I found it should have been-2·9°, showing with what caution such statements in non–official books should be taken.

[44] Afterwards, at Interlachen, when standing on a rustic bridge, she saw a small snake crawling on the path, and called to me. It was about 15 to 18 inches long. I went and pitched it into the stream.

[45] I am told the winter season is now becoming very gay and very dear too.

[46] The accompanying illustration, depicting three gentlemen and seven ladies in bathing costume, was taken (tell it not in Gath) from jottings made at a safe distance. The stout lady in the centre was doubtless a Spaniard.

[47] As this is passing through the press, the sad news has come which has sent a thrill of sympathy through every British breast for the heartbroken bereaved mother. Any objection on the part of France which might formerly have prevailed against her return to Biarritz, if she should desire it, can no longer possibly exist. Let us hope that a generous kindly feeling will pervade all parties in France towards one who once filled a place so high among so great a people, and upon whom such overwhelming sorrows have fallen.

[48] Some additional information, particularly regarding places in the vicinity, will be found in _Biarritz and Basque Countries_, by Count Henry Russell, though the chapter on Biarritz itself is brief and scanty.

[49] I have his third edition, published in 1861. It is possible there may be a later one. Dr. Taylor was knighted, at the request of the Emperor Napoleon III., in recognition of his efforts to develop the resources of Pau as a residence for invalids. He has just (May 1879) died.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:

—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.

End of Project Gutenberg's Wintering in the Riviera, by William Miller