S. Baring Gould
A Book of The Riviera
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Table of contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER I PROVENCE
CHAPTER II LE GAI SABER
CHAPTER III MARSEILLES
CHAPTER IV AIX
CHAPTER V TOULON
CHAPTER VI HYÈRES
CHAPTER VII LES MONTAGNES DES MAURES
CHAPTER VIII S. RAPHAEL AND FRÉJUS
CHAPTER IX DRAGUIGNAN
CHAPTER X L’ESTÉREL
CHAPTER XI GRASSE
CHAPTER XII CANNES
CHAPTER XIII NICE
CHAPTER XIV MONACO
GAMBLING SALOON, MONTE CARLO
CHAPTER XV MENTONE
CHAPTER XVI BORDIGHERA
CHAPTER XVII SAN REMO
CHAPTER XVIII ALASSIO
CHAPTER XIX SAVONA
FOOTNOTES:
PREFACE
THIS
little book has for its object to interest the many winter visitors
to the Ligurian coast in the places that they see.A
consecutive history of Provence and Genoese Liguria was out of the
question; it would be long and tedious. I have taken a few of the
most prominent incidents in the history of the coast, and have given
short biographies of interesting personages connected with it. The
English visitor calls the entire coast—from Marseilles to Genoa—the
Riviera; but the French distinguish their portion as the Côte
d’Azur, and the Italians distinguish theirs as the Riviera di
Ponente. I have not included the whole of this latter, so as not to
make the book too bulky, but have stayed my pen at Savona.
CHAPTER I PROVENCE
Montpellier
and the Riviera compared—The discovery of the Riviera as a winter
resort—A district full of historic interest—Geology of the
coast—The flora—Exotics—The original limit of the sea—The
formation of the
craus—The
Mistral—The olive and cypress—Les Alpines—The chalk
formation—The Jura limestone—Eruptive rocks—The colouring of
Provence—The towns and their narrow streets—Early history—The
Phœnicians—Arrival of the Phocœans—The Roman province—Roman
remains—Destruction of the theatre at Arles—Visigoths and
Burgundians—The Saracens—When Provence was joined to France—Pagan
customs linger on—Floral games—Carnival—The origin of the
Fauxbourdon—How part-singing came into the service of the
church—Reform in church music—Little Gothic architecture in
Provence—Choirs at the west end at Grasse and Vence.WHEN
a gambler has become bankrupt at the tables of Monte Carlo, the
Company that owns these tables furnish him with a railway ticket that
will take him home, or to any distance he likes, the further the
better, that he may hang or shoot himself anywhere else save in the
gardens of the Casino. On much the same principle, at the beginning
of last century, the physicians of England recommended their
consumptive patients to go to Montpellier, where they might die out
of sight, and not bring discredit on their doctors. As Murray well
puts it:—
“It
is difficult to understand how it came to be chosen by the physicians
of the North as a retreat for consumptive patients, since nothing can
be more trying to weak lungs than its variable climate, its blazing
sunshine alternating with the piercingly cold blasts of the
mistral. Though its
sky be clear, its atmosphere is filled with dust, which must be
hurtful to the lungs.”The
discovery of a better place, with equable temperature, and protection
from the winds, was due to an accident.In
1831, Lord Brougham, flying from the fogs and cold of England in
winter, was on his way to Italy, the classic land of sunshine, when
he was delayed on the French coast of the Mediterranean by the
fussiness of the Sardinian police, which would not suffer him to pass
the frontier without undergoing quarantine, lest he should be the
means of introducing cholera into Piedmont. As he was obliged to
remain for a considerable time on the coast, he spent it in rambling
along the Gulf of Napoule. This was to him a veritable revelation. He
found the sunshine, the climate, the flowers he was seeking at Naples
where he then was, at Napoule. He went no farther; he bought an
estate at Cannes, and there built for himself a winter residence. He
talked about his discovery. It was written about in the papers.
Eventually it was heard of by the physicians, and they ceased to
recommend their patients to go to Montpellier, but rather to try
Cannes. When Lord Brougham settled there, it was but a fishing
village; in thirty years it was transformed; and from Cannes
stretches a veritable rosary of winter resorts to Hyères on one side
to Alassio on the other; as white grains threaded on the line from
Marseilles to Genoa. As this chain of villas, hotels, casinos, and
shops has sprung up so recently, the whole looks extremely modern,
and devoid of historic interest. That it is not so, I hope to show.
This modern fringe is but a fringe on an ancient garment; but a
superficial sprinkling over beds of remote antiquity rich in story.
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