ANTIBES AND THE GOLFE JOUAN
Beyond Cannes, on the eastern shore of the Golfe Jouan, before one comes
to the peninsula’s neck, is a newly founded station known as
Jouan-les-Pins. It is little more than a hamlet, though there are villas
and hotels and a water-front with wind-shelters and all the appointments
which one expects to find in such places.
Jouan-les-Pins really is a delightful place, the rock-pines coming well
down to the shore and half-burying themselves in the yellow sands. A
boulevard, bordered by a balustrade, extends along the water’s edge and
forms that blend of artificiality and nature which, of all places on the
Riviera, is seen at its best at Monte Carlo.
Undoubtedly there is some sort of a great future awaiting
Jouan-les-Pins, for it is already regarded as a suburb of Antibes, and
it is but a few years since Antibes itself was but a narrow-alleyed,
high-walled little town, reminiscent of the mediæval fortress that it
once was. To-day the bastions of Antibes have nearly disappeared under
the picks of the industrious workmen.
[Illustration: _Jouan-les-Pins_]
The chief event of historic moment in the vicinity was the landing of
Napoleon here on his return from Elba, on March 1, 1815. Every one
feared the time when the “Corsican ogre” should break loose, and when
the ambitious Napoleon set foot upon the shores of the Golfe Jouan,
there was no doubt but that his sole object was to regain the throne
which he had lost. Provence, Languedoc, and Dauphiné were supposed to be
faithful to the reigning Louis, hence there was little fear that
Napoleon’s march would extend beyond their confines. How well the
emotions of a people were to be judged in those days is best recalled by
the fact that it was but a mere promenade from Jouan-les-Pins, via
Grasse, Gap, and Sisteron, to Lyons. The opinions of the advisers of
Louis XVIII. were decidedly wrong, for, while the Provençaux remained
faithful to the Bourbon, the mountaineers of Dauphiné were only too
ready and willing to give Napoleon the aid he wished.
In the early ages the shores of the Golfe Jouan were well known and
beloved by Phœnicians, Greeks, Romans, barbarians, and Moors alike. The
name Jouan, which comes down from the Saracens, has by some geographers
been changed to Juan. Since, however, the old Provençal spelling and
pronunciation was Jouan (_ou_ being the Provençal accent of the French
_u_), it is still so written by the best authorities.
Never has the word incomparable been more suitably applied than to the
Golfe Jouan and the monuments of the past civilization that surround it.
Together with the Golfe de la Napoule it forms one vast expanse of bay,
the most ample and, perhaps, the most beautiful on the whole Riviera. To
the south is the open sea, and to the north the varied background of
the Alpes-Maritimes.
Antibes has itself much charm of situation, though it is mostly known to
English-speaking people as a sort of rest-house on the way to the more
gay attractions of Monte Carlo and about there.
Antibes is, however, of great antiquity, having been the Antipolis of
the Romans. It has the usual attractions of the Riviera towns and, in
addition, the proximity of the great peninsula of Antibes, locally
called the Cap.
This peninsula is a rare combination of trees and rocks and winding
roads, almost surrounded by the pulsing Mediterranean, always cool and
comfortable, even in summer, and scarcely ever troubled by the blowing
of the mistral. Villas, almost without end, occupy the Cap, tree-hidden,
and all brilliantly stuccoed with a tint which so well harmonizes with
the surrounding subtropical flora that the effect is as of fairy-land.
The Jardin Thuret is a great botanical collection, covering an area of
over seven hectares, a gift to the nation by the sister of the great
botanist of the same name. The Villa Eilen-Roc has also wonderful
gardens, laid out with exotic plants, and open to visitors.
Offshore, to the westward, are the Iles de Lerins and the Golfe de la
Napoule, while eastward lie the Baie des Anges and the mountains back of
Nice. Northward are the snow-clad summits of the Alpine range, while to
the south is the sea, where one sees the filmy smoke of great steamers
bound for Genoa or Marseilles, while nearer at hand are the white-winged
_balancelles_ and _tartanes_. Truly it is a ravishing picture which is
here spread out before one, and therein lies the great charm of Antibes.
There is a weird combination of things devout and secular at
Antibes,--Notre Dame d’Antibes, with its hermitage; the lighthouse; and
the semaphore. Of the utility of the two latter there can be no doubt,
while the tiny chapel of the hermitage forms a link which binds the
sailor-folk at sea with their friends on shore. It is a sort of
_ex-voto_ shrine, like Notre Dame de la Garde at Marseilles, where one
may register his vows upon his departure or return from the sea.
When the river Var was the boundary between France and Piedmont, this
Chapelle de Notre Dame was a place of pilgrimage for the seafarers on
both sides of the river, and passports were freely given to permit the
Italians to worship here at this seaside shrine of Our Lady.
Antibes has much of historic reminiscence about it, though to-day its
monuments are neither very numerous nor magnificent.
The old town was, for military reasons, surrounded with walls, and thus
the sea was some distance from the centre of the town. Then, as to-day,
to get a whiff of the sea, one had to leave the narrow tortuous
picturesqueness of the old town behind and saunter on the quays of the
little port, with its narrow entrance to the open sea.
There is little traffic of importance going on in the port of Antibes;
mostly the shipping of the product of the potteries at Vallauris and
neighbouring towns. Still, by no means is it an abandoned port; it is a
popular haven for Mediterranean yachtsmen, and fishermen find it a
suitable base for their operations in the open sea; so there is a
constant going and coming such as gives a picturesque liveliness which
is lacking at a mere resort or watering-place. Antibes is, moreover, a
torpedo-boat station of the French navy, being safely sheltered by a
line of rocks which parallel the coast-line for some distance just
beyond the harbour’s mouth, and which are marked by a great iron buoy,
known locally by the name of “Cinq Cent Francs.”
In the days of the Romans Antibes was probably the military port of
Cimiez, and in a later day it came into the favour of both Henri IV. and
Richelieu as a strongly fortified place. Later, Vauban came on the scene
and surrounded its harbour with a great circular mole with considerable
architectural pretensions. To-day the place is practically ignored as a
military stronghold in favour of Villefranche and Toulon and the many
intermediate batteries which have been erected.
The origin of the name of the town comes from the colony of Massaliotes
who came here in the fifth century. Its modern name is a derivation from
its earlier nomenclature, which became successively Antibon, Antibolus,
and then Antiboul,--the Provençal name for the Antibes of the later
French.
To-day one may see the remains of two ancient towers built by the
Romans, and there are still evidences of the substructure of the antique
theatre, built into the lower courses of some modern houses. In the
walls of the Hôtel de Ville is a tablet reading as follows:
+-------------------------------+
| D. M. |
| PVERI SEPTENTRI |
| ONIS ANNORXI QUI |
| ANTIPOLI IN THEATRO |
| BIDVO SALTAVIT ET PLACVIT. |
+-------------------------------+
According to Michelet this was a memorial to “the child Septentrion,
who, at the age of twelve years, appeared two days at the theatre of
Antipolis; doubtless one of the slaves who were let out to managers of
spectacles.”
Inland from Antibes, on the banks of a little streamlet, the Brague,
lies Biot, once a settlement of the Templars, and later, in the
fourteenth century, a possession of the Genoese, or at least peopled by
a colony of them.
It is a remarkable little place, generally over-looked by travellers in
the rush to the show-places of the Riviera, and the suggestion is here
made that any who are seeking for a real exotic could not do better than
hunt it here. The manners and customs, and even the speech, of many of
the old people of the town are as Italian as those of the Genoese
themselves. The tiny bourg possesses a series of arcades surrounding a
tiny square, a product of the fourteenth century, and is as “foreign”
to these parts as would be the wigwam of an Indian. There are also
remains of the old ramparts of the town still visible, and the whole
ensemble is as a page torn from a book which had been closed for
centuries.
[Illustration]
One need not fear undue discomfort here in this little old-world spot,
where things go on much the same as they have for centuries. There is
nothing of the allurements of the great hotels of the resorts about the
two modest inns at Biot, but for all that there is a bountiful and
excellent fare to be had amid entirely charming surroundings, and, if
one is minded, he can easily put in a month at the retreat, and only
descend to the super-refinements of Cannes or Nice--each perhaps a dozen
miles away--whenever he feels the pangs which prompt him to get in touch
with a daily paper and the delights of asphalt pavements and “dressy”
society.
Not all Riviera tourists know the Iles de Lerins as well as they might,
though it is a popular enough excursion from Cannes.
These isles give the distinct note which lends charm to the waters of
the Mediterranean just offshore from Cannes, forming, as they do, a sort
of a jetty, or breakwater, between the Golfe de la Napoule and the Golfe
Jouan.
There are but two islands in the group, St. Honorat and Ste. Marguerite,
the latter separated from the Pointe de la Croisette at Cannes by a
little over a kilometre. It costs a franc to cover this by boat, and
another franc to pass between Ste. Marguerite and St. Honorat.
The Ile Ste. Marguerite and its prison are redolent of much of history,
from the days of the “Iron Mask” up to those of the miserable Bazaine.
Much has been hazarded from time to time as to the real identity of the
“Man in the Iron Mask,” but the annals of Provence dealing with Ste.
Marguerite seem to point to the fact that he was Count Mattioli, the
minister of the Duke of Mantua, who had agreed to betray his master into
the hands of the French, and then for some unaccountable reason--no one
knows why--repented, with the result that he was entrapped and thrown
into prison. One sees still the walls of the dungeon where twenty-seven
years of his unhappy life were spent.
Bazaine, the unfortunate Maréchal de France who capitulated at Metz
during the Franco-Prussian war, was also confined here, from December,
1873, to August, 1874, when by some unexplained means, he was able to
escape to Italy.
The islands take their collective name from the memory of a pirate of
the heroic age, Lero by name, to whom a temple was erected on the larger
isle.
The Ile St. Honorat has perhaps a greater interest than that of Ste.
Marguerite. St. Honorat established himself here in retreat in the
fifth century, and his abode was afterward visited by Erin’s St.
Patrick.
A religious foundation, known as the Monastery of Lerins, took shape
here in the sixth century, and became one of the most celebrated in all
Christendom.
Barbarians, fanatics, and pirates attacked the isle from time to time,
but they could not disturb the faith upon which the religious
establishment was built, and it was only in 1778, when it was
desecularized by the Pope, that its influence waned.
In 1791, Mlle. Alziary de Roquefort, an actress of fame in her day,
acquired the isle and made it her residence. To-day it is in the
possession of a community of Benedictines of Citeaux, who cultivate a
great portion of its soil for the benefit of the Bishop of Fréjus.
The modern conventual buildings are on the site of the old
establishment, now completely disappeared, but the community is well
worth the visiting, if only to bring away with one a bottle of the
Liqueur Lerina, which, in the opinion of many, is the equal of the
popular “Benedictine” and “Chartreuse.”
There is a fragment of the old fortress-château still left to view,
bathing the foot of its crenelated donjon in the sea, a reminder of the
days when the monks fought valiantly against pirate invasion.
Legend accounts for the names borne by both the Iles de Lerins. Two
orphans of high degree, brother and sister, left their home in the
Vosges and came to Provence, which they adopted as their future home.
[Illustration]
Marguerite took up her residence on the isle nearest the shore, and her
brother on the farthermost. Disconsolate at being left alone, the maid
supplicated her brother to come to her, and this he promised to do each
year when the cherry-trees were in bloom. Marguerite prayed to God that
her brother, who had become a _religieux_, would come more often; at
once the cherry-trees about her habitation burst into bloom, a miracle
which occurred each month thereafter, and her brother, true to his
promise, came promptly the first of each month, and thus broke the
lonely vigil of his sister.