The Riviera Of The Corniche Road - free ebook by Frederick Treves

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The Riviera Of The Corniche Road

Frederick Treves

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42 chapters

Preface

Preface

This book deals with that part of the French Riviera which is commanded by the Great Corniche Road—the part between Nice and Mentone—together with such places as are within easy reach of the Road. I am obliged to the proprietors of the Times for permission to reprint an article of mine contributed to that journal in March, 1920. It appears as Chapter XXXVII. I am much indebted to Dr. Hagberg Wright, of the London Library, for invaluable help in the collecting of certain historical data. FREDERIC

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I EARLY DAYS IN THE RIVIERA

I EARLY DAYS IN THE RIVIERA

T HE early history of this brilliant country is very dim, as are its shores and uplands when viewed from an on-coming barque at the dawn of day. The historian-adventurer sailing into the past sees before him just such an indefinite country as opens up before the eye of the mariner. Hills and crags—alone unchangeable—rise against the faint light in the sky. The sound of breakers on the beach alone can tell where the ocean ends and where the land begins; while the slopes, the valleys and the woods

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II THE CORNICHE ROAD

II THE CORNICHE ROAD

I T is hardly necessary to call to mind the fact that there are several Corniche roads along the Riviera. The term implies a fringing road, a road that runs along a cornice or ledge (French, Corniche ; Italian, Cornice ). The term will, therefore, be often associated with a coast road that runs on the edge or border of the sea or on a shelf above it. There are the Chemin de la Corniche at Marseilles which runs as far east as the Prado, the Corniche d’Or near Cannes, the three Corniche Roads beyo

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III NICE: THE PROMENADE DES ANGLAIS

III NICE: THE PROMENADE DES ANGLAIS

N ICE is a somewhat gross, modern seaside town which is beautiful in its situation but in little else. It lies at the mouth of a majestic valley and on the shores of a generous bay, open to the sun, but exposed at the same time to every villainous wind that blows. It is an unimaginative town with most excellent shops and a complete, if noisy, tramway system. It is crowded, and apparently for that reason popular. It is proud of its fine sea front and of the bright and ambitious buildings which ar

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IV NICE: THE OLD TOWN

IV NICE: THE OLD TOWN

L OOKING down upon the city from Mont Boron it is easy to distinguish Nice the Illustrious from Nice the Parvenu. There is by the sea an isolated green hill with precipitous flanks. This is the height upon which once stood the ancient citadel. On one side is a natural harbour—the old port—while on the other side is a jumble of weather-stained roofs and narrow lanes which represent the old town. The port, the castle hill, with the little cluster of houses at its foot, form the real Nice, the Nice

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V THE SIEGE OF NICE

V THE SIEGE OF NICE

N ICE, as has been already stated, was many times besieged. If there be a condition among towns that may be called “the siege habit” then Nice had acquired it. The most memorable assault upon the place was in 1543. It was so gallant an affair that it is always referred to as the siege of Nice. It was an incident of the war between Charles V and François I, King of France. A treaty had been entered into between these two sovereigns which is commemorated to this day by the Croix de Marbre in the R

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VI CIMIEZ AND ST. PONS

VI CIMIEZ AND ST. PONS

B EHIND the city of Nice rises the well known hill of Cimiez, on the gentle slope of which stand the great hotels. On the summit of the hill was the Roman town of Cemenelum, which is said to have numbered 30,000 inhabitants and which was at the height of its glory before Nice itself came into being. Through Cemenelum passed the great Roman road which ran from the Forum of Rome to Arles. It approached Cimiez from Laghet and La Trinité-Victor and traces of it are still indicated in this fashionabl

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VII HOW THE CONVENT OF ST. PONS CAME TO AN END

VII HOW THE CONVENT OF ST. PONS CAME TO AN END

O N a kindly afternoon in St. Martin’s summer, when the shadows were lengthening and the beech woods were carpeted with copper and gold, a party of gallants were making their way back to Nice after a day’s ramble among the hills. It was in the year 1408, when this poor worried world was still young and thoughtless. They were strolling idly down the valley of St. Pons, loath to return to their cramped, dull palaces on the Castle Hill, when a storm began to rumble up from the south and the sky to

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VIII VENCE, THE DEFENDER OF THE FAITH

VIII VENCE, THE DEFENDER OF THE FAITH

V ENCE is a very ancient place with a history of some merit. It is said to have been, in its earliest days, the stronghold of a native tribe. Since it stands on a hill convenient in position this statement may probably be allowed. It had the usual infantile troubles of growing towns in this area. It was occupied in turn by the Phœnicians, Phocæans and Gauls, and was ravaged, in due course and in appropriate manner, by both Saracens and Lombards. It played but a minor part in those later turmoils

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IX VENCE, THE TOWN

IX VENCE, THE TOWN

O N the bend of a pleasant road some thirteen miles from Nice stands Vence, 1,065 feet above the level of the Mediterranean. It is a little place of about three thousand inhabitants, on the crown of a hill in a land of hills. Behind it rise precipitous heights which shield it from the north, while in front of it is an undulating country of pine wood and dale that rolls lazily to the sea. Vence consists of two parts, the old town and the new. The old town is a mere appendage to the new, and may b

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X GRASSE

X GRASSE

G RASSE lies on a green slope at the foot of sheltering hills and in full view of the sea. From its height of one thousand feet a glorious stretch of undulating country sweeps down to the Mediterranean, some seven or eight miles to the south. The position of the town is suggestive of great ease. It is comparable to that of a man stretched out on a bank in the sun, with his hands under his head, his hat tilted over his eyes and with a rock behind him to ward away unkindly winds. It is a gentle an

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XI A PRIME MINISTER AND TWO LADIES OF GRASSE

XI A PRIME MINISTER AND TWO LADIES OF GRASSE

R OMÉE DE VILLENEUVE.—There is a somewhat picturesque story in the old chronicles relating to one Romée de Villeneuve, seneschal of Grasse and the premier ministre of the Count of Provence. [18] The count with whom the story deals was Raymond Berenger IV, who came into power in 1209 and died in 1245. This Raymond was the husband of the beautiful Beatrix of Savoy—the same Beatrix who inspired the passionate verses of the troubadour of Eze. Raymond the count when walking one day through the street

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XII CAGNES AND ST. PAUL DU VAR

XII CAGNES AND ST. PAUL DU VAR

A LONG the road from Nice to Vence are two interesting little towns, Cagnes and St. Paul du Var. Cagnes—or rather old Cagnes—is perched on the top of a beehive-shaped hill on the confines of a plain. It looks very picturesque from the distance and, unlike many other places, it is equally attractive near at hand. It is an odd town in the sense that it is made up of odd fragments. There are no two things alike in Cagnes, nothing that matches. It is indeed a pile of very miscellaneous houses inclin

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XIII CAP FERRAT AND ST. HOSPICE

XIII CAP FERRAT AND ST. HOSPICE

C AP FERRAT is the name of a narrow tongue of land which is suddenly thrust out into the sea between Villefranche and Beaulieu. It is one of the great landmarks along the coast, is nearly a mile in length and rises at one point to the height of 446 feet. It is a peninsula of rock covered with trees and forms a pleasant strip of green athwart the blue expanse of water. At its further end it breaks up into two capes which spread apart like the limbs of a Y . One is Cap de St. Hospice, the other Ca

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XIV THE STORY OF EZE

XIV THE STORY OF EZE

E ZE is a curious name and the name of a still more curious place. Eze, indeed, by reason of its grim history and its astonishing position on a lone pinnacle of rock, is one of the most fascinating towns in the Riviera. Its past has been more tumultuous and more tragic than that probably of any settlement of its size in Provence. It has seen much, has done much and, above all, has suffered much, for its cup of sorrows has been overflowing. It is a place of extreme antiquity; since people lived w

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XV THE TROUBADOURS OF EZE

XV THE TROUBADOURS OF EZE

A BOUT the beginning of the thirteenth century there lived at Eze two troubadours, Blacas and Blacasette by name, father and son. They were Catalans by birth; but the family had settled in Provence and the two singers found themselves in the suite of Raymond Berenger, the Count of Provence. How it was that they came to Eze and how long they resided there is not known. Durandy states that the Blacas were owners of the manor of Eze and in describing the sack of the town in 1543 he speaks of the ca

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XVI HOW EZE WAS BETRAYED

XVI HOW EZE WAS BETRAYED

I N August, 1543, the citadel of Nice was besieged by the French army of Francis I aided by the Turkish fleet under the command of the corsair Barbarossa. The siege failed as has been already recounted (page 29 ). The next obvious step for the French was to attack and destroy Eze, which lay behind Nice and was an obstacle to any further progress. It is necessary to realise that—at this period—both Nice and Eze were beyond the frontiers of France, were foreign towns and, at the moment, enemy town

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XVII THE TOWN THAT CANNOT FORGET

XVII THE TOWN THAT CANNOT FORGET

A MID the deep valleys and the titanic ridges of bare rock which slope down to the sea from the Alps stands Eze. It stands alone in a scene of wild disorder. From a huge gash in the flank of the earth, lined with trees as with grass, rises a pinnacle of rock, a solitary isolated bare pinnacle, 980 feet high, with sides sheer as a wall. It rises, clear and grey, out of the abyss and on its summit is Eze. It seems as if some fearful power had lifted the town aloft for safety; while, to compare the

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XVIII THE HARBOUR OF MONACO

XVIII THE HARBOUR OF MONACO

T HE history of Monaco from its early days to the time when it came upon peace is a breathless story full of incident, clamour and surprise. It may not be unfitly compared to an account—from moment to moment—of the flights and rebuffs of a football in a long contested game. Now and again the bewildered ball is lost sight of in a mêlée of panting men. At another moment it rolls quietly into the open to be at once pounced upon by two furious packs. At times it is “out of bounds” and at peace, only

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XIX THE ROCK OF MONACO

XIX THE ROCK OF MONACO

M ONACO is a bold, assertive mass of rock—long, narrow and blunt—which thrusts itself out into the sea, as if to show that it held the ocean in contempt and cared nothing for either winds or waves. The sea has tried its strength against it since the world began, but Monaco has ever remained bland and indifferent. The rock is cut off from the mainland by a gorge through which the road to Nice slinks by as if glad to escape. The sides of Monaco are everywhere precipitous, except towards the east.

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XX A FATEFUL CHRISTMAS EVE

XX A FATEFUL CHRISTMAS EVE

N OT many years after the building of the citadel or fort in 1215 (page 145 ) Monaco became involved in the war between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. The Guelphs were represented by the Grimaldi, the Ghibellines by the Spinola. Each party twice besieged the other, when entrenched within the citadel, and each was twice supplanted by its opponents. Indeed such were the changes that a ship returning to Monaco after a voyage of no more than a month or so did well to inquire, before entering the h

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XXI CHARLES THE SEAMAN

XXI CHARLES THE SEAMAN

I T is needless, and indeed impossible within the limits of this book, to follow the history of the long line of adventurous men who were in turn Lords of Monaco. They lived through years of trouble and unrest with varying fortune. They fought and schemed with varying success. They mounted high and circled far. They came near to be draggled in the dust and yet through all vicissitudes, through storm and calm, they kept the red and white flag of the Grimaldi afloat over the tower of Monaco. One o

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XXII THE LUCIEN MURDER

XXII THE LUCIEN MURDER

I N 1457 a little girl, aged twelve, became, on the death of her father, the ruling princess of Monaco. Her name was Claudine. The position of this little maid was embarrassing and indeed pitiable. She would like to have romped in the play-room or have spent the days in the garden with her pets and her girl friends. Instead of that she had to sit for hours on a throne with her hair done up in an unwonted and uncomfortable manner, with robes about her which were much too large and with her feet d

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XXIII HOW THE SPANIARDS WERE GOT RID OF

XXIII HOW THE SPANIARDS WERE GOT RID OF

F OR a number of years Monaco, with that part of the Riviera which is adjacent thereto, was under the protection of Spain. It is said that the protectorate was sought and contrived by Hercules, Prince of Monaco. How this mastery of a foreign power arose is not so much a matter of interest as how it was got rid of. Hercules, by the way, came himself to a tragic end. He was, in the language of the history books, an “unprincipled libertine.” He outraged the wives and daughters of certain of his sub

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XXIV A MATTER OF ETIQUETTE

XXIV A MATTER OF ETIQUETTE

A MONG the minor happenings in the ways of the world a disproportionate interest always attaches to the breaking off of a marriage engagement. The event excites surprise and florid speculation, together with a tender and unreasoning sense of regret. It is, to the unknowing, as the sudden slamming of a door that seemed to open into paradise. The rupture may be due to many things, to ill-health or ill-temper, to discoveries, to a change of heart, to mean matters affecting money or to the lure of a

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XXV THE MONTE CARLO OF THE NOVELIST

XXV THE MONTE CARLO OF THE NOVELIST

M ONTE CARLO, they told me, was a place of great wickedness, where every path—though lined with flowers—led headlong to the Pit. From the many romances which deal with Monte Carlo I gathered that it was the seat of an intensive culture in iniquity, that it specialised in subtle forms of evil doing and that in its pleasances vice blossomed as the rose. Among what writers always term “the motley crowd” in this fictitious borough were men of quite exceptional depravity, women more accomplished than

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XXVI MONTE CARLO

XXVI MONTE CARLO

M ONTE CARLO [40] lies on the very edge of the sea at the foot of a broken range of grey hills as if it were a patch of flowers at the foot of an ancient wall. As a town it takes the form of a sloping pile of houses and terraces which, when the sun falls on them, are a brilliant maize-yellow with splashes of white, of russet-red for the roofs and of green for the palms and the gardens. Viewed at sundown, from a long way off, it would seem as if the foot of the cliff, where it touches the sea, ha

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XXVII SOME DIVERSIONS OF MONTE CARLO

XXVII SOME DIVERSIONS OF MONTE CARLO

T HE General Atmosphere. —The atmosphere of Monte Carlo is the subject of some comment. It is in fact complained of. The air over the town is not said to be unpleasant in colour; it is not, for example, stated to be green or yellow. The charge is that the atmosphere is “vitiated.” Now in the dictionary “to vitiate” is said to mean “to corrupt, debase or contaminate” and therefore the accusation is a grave one. In defence it can be claimed that the moral atmosphere in Monte Carlo is not so vitiat

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XXVIII AN OLD ROMAN POSTING TOWN

XXVIII AN OLD ROMAN POSTING TOWN

A ROUND Monte Carlo the mountains crowd down to the sea with such menace as to threaten to push the light-hearted town into the deep, for the sloping ledge to which it holds is narrow. Thus it is that hanging above Monte Carlo is a steep mountain side, half slope, half precipice, green wherever an olive tree or a pine can cling, grey where the rock lies bare or where the cliff soars upwards. On the summit of this stupendous barrier and at a height of 1,574 feet is La Turbie. Gazing up from the s

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XXIX THE TOWER OF VICTORY

XXIX THE TOWER OF VICTORY

O F Turbia of the Roman days practically no trace exists with the notable exception of the Great Monument which is very much more than a trace. After the Romans went away La Turbie—although well stricken in years—was subjected to that pitiless discipline which straitened and embittered the younger days of every town along the shores of the Mediterranean. Its history differs but in detail from the early history of Nice or Eze, or of Roquebrune. The Lombards and the Saracens in turn fell upon it l

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XXX LA TURBIE OF TO-DAY

XXX LA TURBIE OF TO-DAY

L A TURBIE is a little compact town of the Middle Ages. Its narrow streets are disposed as they have been for centuries. It is entered by five gates. It has no straggling suburbs. It is complete in its tiny way and captain of itself. It lies enveloped by its walls, a warm, living thing whose heart has beaten within these encircling arms for over 2,000 years. It is quiet, for the world has left it alone. It stands by the side of the Great Corniche Road, but those who pass by in an eddy of dust he

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XXXI THE CONVENT OF LAGHET

XXXI THE CONVENT OF LAGHET

F ROM the old Roman town of La Turbie a road dips down into a lonely valley and is soon lost to view. It is an unfriendly highway that appears to turn its face from the world as if to hide among the ascetic hills. There are few signs of human life to make the road companionable, while a row of cypresses on either side seem to impose upon it a reverential silence. At the end of the valley a great monastic building appears, with the figure of the Virgin raised aloft on its summit. It is an unexpec

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XXXII THE CITY OF PETER PAN

XXXII THE CITY OF PETER PAN

B ETWEEN Monte Carlo and Mentone is the little town of Roquebrune. It stands high up on the flank of that range of hills which follows the road and which shuts out, like a wall, all sight of the world stretching away to the north. Certain conventional phrases are used in describing the site of a village or small town. When it lies at the bottom of a hill it “nestles” and when it approaches the top it “perches.” Roquebrune is distinctly “perched” upon the hillside. Indeed it appears to cling to i

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XXXIII THE LEGEND OF ROQUEBRUNE

XXXIII THE LEGEND OF ROQUEBRUNE

T HE position of Roquebrune high up on the hillside appears—as has already been stated—to be precarious. It seems as if the little city were sliding down towards the sea and would, indeed, make that descent if it were not for an inconsiderable ledge that stands in its way. It can scarcely be a matter of surprise, therefore, that there is a legend to the effect that Roquebrune once stood much higher up the hill, that the side of the mountain broke away, laying bare the cliff and carrying the town

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XXXIV SOME MEMORIES OF ROQUEBRUNE

XXXIV SOME MEMORIES OF ROQUEBRUNE

R OQUEBRUNE is very old. It can claim a lineage so ancient that the first stirrings of human life among the rocks on which it stands would appear to the historian as a mere speck in the dark hollow of the unknown. Roquebrune has been a town since men left caves and forests and began to live in dwellings made by hands. It can boast that for long years it was—with Monaco and Eze—one of the three chief sea towns along this range of coast. Its history differs in detail only from the history of any o

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XXXV GALLOWS HILL

XXXV GALLOWS HILL

T HE hills that overshadow the coast road between Cap d’Ail and Roquebrune are perhaps as diligently traversed by the winter visitor as any along the Riviera, because in this area level roads are rare and those who would walk far afield must of necessity climb up hill. The hill-side is of interest on account of the number of pre-historic walled camps which are to be found on its slopes. These camps form a series of strongholds which extends from Cap d’Ail to Roquebrune. There are some seven of t

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XXXVI MENTONE

XXXVI MENTONE

M ENTONE is a popular and quite modern resort on the Riviera much frequented by the English on account of its admirable climate. Placed on the edge of the Italian frontier it is the last Mediterranean town in France. It lies between the sea and a semicircle of green hills upon a wide flat which is traversed by four rough torrents. It is, on the whole, a pleasant looking place although it is not so brilliant in colour as the posters in railway stations would make it. It is seen at its best from a

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XXXVII THE FIRST VISITORS TO THE RIVIERA

XXXVII THE FIRST VISITORS TO THE RIVIERA

T HERE is great fascination about a very ancient human dwelling-place. It stands out among the blank shadows of the past as a warm reality, a lingering spark still aglow among the ashes of things that once had been. There is about it the charm of a memory that is partly real and partly only dreamed about. Strange as the venerable place may be it comes quite naturally into the story of our common ancestry. It seems, in some indefinite way, to be a family possession which we can regard with a pers

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XXXVIII CASTILLON

XXXVIII CASTILLON

A MONG the mountains behind Mentone is a saddle of rock wedged in between two heights and named the Col de la Garde. If a Colossus sat astride of this saddle one leg would be in the Valley of the Careï, leading towards Mentone, and the other in the Merlanson Valley which descends to Sospel. The col or ridge of the saddle is 2,527 feet above the level of the sea. On a cone of rock in the centre of this ridge is the ghostly town of Castillon. The distance from Mentone to Castillon is four miles, i

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XXXIX SOSPEL

XXXIX SOSPEL

S OSPEL lies at the bottom of a vast basin-shaped valley by the banks of the ever-chattering Bevera river. The sides of the valley are lined from base to summit with olive trees. It is not a pretty valley, for the green of the olive, being sad and wan, suggests rather the shabby dreariness of old age. In this sombre hollow Sospel appears as a patch of chocolate-brown. The valley is so immense and the town so small that it is little more than a dark stain at the bottom of a huge bowl. Sospel has

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XL SOSPEL AND THE WILD BOAR

XL SOSPEL AND THE WILD BOAR

I T may be of some interest to state how the affairs of Sospel became involved with so curious a creature as a wild boar, and how the people of Sospel were led to have a kindly regard for this particular species of pig. In the year 1366 a respected citizen of Sospel named Guglielmo Viteola started off with his son to go to Mentone. On the way they were attacked by a gang of robbers and the lad was killed. The robbers spared Viteola because they considered that he would be of more value to them l

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XLI TWO QUEER OLD TOWNS

XLI TWO QUEER OLD TOWNS

A LUXURIANT valley of pure delight mounts inland from the sea by Mentone. It is a happy, friendly-looking valley, richly cultivated, full of orange groves and vineyards, of comfortable gardens and of merry mills. The valley ends suddenly in a vast amphitheatre of bare heights which shuts out all the world beyond. As if by a stroke of magic vegetation ceases and the green becomes grey. In the centre of the semicircle and on a steep promontory that commands the valley stands Gorbio , like a monume

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