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FAIR ITALY. THE RIVIERA
AND MONTE CARLO
FAIR ITALY. THE RIVIERA
AND MONTE CARLO
_COMPRISING A TOUR THROUGH
NORTH AND SOUTH ITALY AND SICILY
WITH A SHORT ACCOUNT OF MALTA_
BY
W. COPE DEVEREUX, R.N., F.R.G.S.
AUTHOR OF
"A CRUISE IN THE 'GORGON' IN THE SUPPRESSION OF THE SLAVE TRADE"
LONDON
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE
1884
(_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved._)
TO
MY DEAR WIFE
THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED,
IN REMEMBRANCE OF OUR HAPPY TOUR
IN
FAIR ITALY.
PREFACE.
Fair Italy, the land of song and cradle of the Arts, has been so often
written about, and so well described both in prose and in verse, that I
feel there is a presumption in my attempting to say anything fresh of
that classic land, its art treasures, and its glorious past. But within
the last few years a new Italy has sprung into existence--the dream of
Cavour has been realized; and, contrary to all predictions, she has
evinced a union and cohesiveness so complete as to surprise all, and
possibly disappoint some who were jealous of her.
What was once a conglomeration of petty rival states is now one
constitutionally governed kingdom. Italy has ceased to be only a
geographical name; she is now a nation whose voice is listened to at the
council tables of the Great Powers.
The old terms of Piedmontese, Tuscan, Lombard, and Neapolitan, have no
longer aught but a local significance; from the Alps to Tarentum every
one glories in the name of free united Italy, and feels proud of being
an Italian.
Young Italy is so rapidly developing the resources of her gifted people
and of her fruitful lands, that she daily becomes more interesting to
all who sympathize with a free and vigorous country; more especially to
the English, who have many interests in common with her, and few, if
any, reasons to fear either antagonism or competition.
And the beautiful Riviera--
Where God's pure air, sweet flowers, blue sea and skies,
Combine to make an earthly Paradise.
Yes! the Riviera is certainly one of the loveliest spots on this fair
earth, and is visited by streams of human beings, lovers of nature and
students of art; but is more especially dear to the thousands of sickly
invalids, who--
Journeying there from lands of wintry clime,
Find life and health 'midst scenery sublime.
But, to be truly candid, I must confess that, while humbly trusting I
have succeeded in making this little book both interesting and
instructive, one of the chief reasons for my putting pen to paper has
been to make an effort, however feeble, to expose the deadly evils of
the plague-spot of this paradise, Monte Carlo.
From this centre there circulates a gambling fever not only throughout
the Riviera--from Cannes to Genoa--but everywhere its victims may carry
it. After being stamped out from all the German watering-places, the
demon "Play" has fixed his abode in this fair spot, in the very pathway
of invalids and others, and, under the ægis of a corrupt prince and his
subjects who share the proceeds of the gaming-tables, this valued health
resort, which was surely designed by a beneficent Creator for the
happiness of His creatures, is turned into a pandemonium.
"Base men to use it to so base effect."
Few can be wholly unaware of the sad effects resulting from this
gambling mania, whereby the happiness of many homes is wrecked, and
thousands of our fellow-creatures are brought to ruin and a shameful
end.
During the past season the public papers have teemed with instances of
Monte Carlo suicides,[A] the lifeless bodies of its victims frequently
being found at early dawn in the charming gardens surrounding the
Casino. The gen d'arme patrol is so accustomed to the occurrence, it is
said, as to view the object with perfect _sang froid_, but, let us
rather hope, with pitying eye.
It may possibly be said, Why all this virtuous indignation about Monte
Carlo, when gambling, to a frightful extent, is carried on at our clubs
and stock exchanges in England? I can only answer, two wrongs can never
make one right; besides, Monte Carlo cannot be allowed to exist as an
independent principality when conducted so dishonestly and detrimentally
to the highest interests of humanity.
I am thankful to feel that the matter has now been brought before the
Parliaments of England and Italy, and even France, and has been the
subject of diplomatic remonstrance. This is hopeful, but I have the
greater hope in the power of public opinion and sympathy against this
monstrous evil; and also in the belief that one of the highest
developments of this nineteenth century is the recognition of the truth
that "I am my brother's keeper."
LONDON,
_March, 1884._
[A] See Appendix.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Introduction--Charing Cross--Dover--Submarine Channel Tunnel
--Calais--Advantages of travelling second class--Superfluous
examination of luggage--Paris--Dining _à la carte_ versus
_table d'hôte_--Noël--An Officer's Funeral--Lyons--Scenery of
the Rhone--Constant changes in the landscape--Want of proper
accommodation at the railway stations--Defective lighting of
railway carriages 1
CHAPTER II.
Arrival at Marseilles--Change in climate--The mistral--Some
account of Marseilles in the past--Marseillaise hymn--Docks
and harbour--Hill-side scenery--Chateau d'If--La Dame de la
Garde--Military practice--St. Nazaire--An ancient church--The
Exchange--Courtiers of merchandise--Sunday at home and abroad 13
CHAPTER III.
Leaving Marseilles--Toulon--Hyères--Fréjus--Coast scenery--The
Hotel Windsor--An unexpected meeting, and a pleasant walk--Isles
de Lerins--The Mediterranean--Defective drainage--Mosquitos and
Nocturnal Pianos--Christmas Day--Cannes--The Pepper tree--The
English Cemetery--Antibes--Miscalled Health Resorts--Grasse--
Orange blossoms--Leaving Cannes 23
CHAPTER IV.
Nice--Its persistently Italian character--Its gaming propensities
--Hints about luggage--Old and New Towns--Flower-shops--A river
laundry--The harbours of Nice and Villafranca--Scenery and
climate of Nice--A cowardly outrage--In the Cathedral--Hotel
charges--Leaving Nice 37
CHAPTER V.
The beauty-spot and plague-spot of the Riviera--Arrival at
Mentone--Hotel des Isles Britanniques--English church--Her
Majesty's Villa--Gardens of Dr. Bennett--Custom-house--Remarks
on Mentone--A charming walk--A word about Brigands--An adventure
--In the cemetery--A labour of love--A frog concert--Excursion
to Monte Carlo--Sublime coast scenery--Castle of Monaco--The
sombre Olive--The exodus of the Caterpillars 49
CHAPTER VI.
Monte Carlo--In the Concert-room--The Gambling saloons--The
Tables--The moth and the candle--The true story of Monte
Carlo--An International grievance and disgrace 62
CHAPTER VII.
Scenery _en route_--Bordighera--Pegli--Genoa--Its magnificent
situation--The grandeur of its past--The Harbour--Streets--Palaces
--Cathedral of San Lorenzo--Sacred Catina--Chapel of St. John the
Baptist--Italian Beggars--Sudden change in the atmosphere--The
Campo Santo--Shops of Genoa--Marble promenade--City of precipices
--Climate of Genoa 72
CHAPTER VIII.
Pisa--Hotel Victoria--Pisan weather--The poet Shelley--Historic
Pisa--Lung 'Arno--San Stefano di Canalia--Cathedral--Baptistery
--Leaning Tower--Campo Santo--The divine angels--The great chain
of Pisa--Leghorn--Smollett's grave--Poste-restante--A sweet thing
in Beggars--Ugolino's Tower--Departure for Rome 83
CHAPTER IX.
Arrival in Rome--Hotel de la Ville--The Corso--The Strangers'
Quarter--Roman Guides--View from the Capitol--"How are the mighty
fallen!"--The sculpture-gallery of the Capitol--The Dying Gladiator
--The Venus--Hawthorne's Marble Faun--Bambino Santissimo--The
Mamertine Prison--The Forum--Palaces--The Coliseum--Longfellow's
"Michael Angelo" 92
CHAPTER X.
Trajan's Gate--The Appian Way--The English Cemetery--Catacombs
of St. Calixtus--Reflections on the Italian seat of government
--Churches--S. Paolo Fuori le Mura--Santa Maria Maggiore--S.
Pietro in Vincoli--"Was St. Peter ever in Rome?"--Fountains of
Rome--Dell' Aqua Felice--Paulina--Trevi--Rome's famous Aqueducts
--Beggars--Priests 106
CHAPTER XI.
Papal Rome--Narrow streets--St. Angelo--Benvenuto Cellini--St.
Peter's--Pietà Chapel--The Dead Christ--Tomb of the Stuarts--
Anniversary of St. Peter's--Grand ceremonial--Cardinal Howard
--The Vatican--Pictures--Pauline and Sistine Chapels--"The Last
Judgment"--Pinacoteca--Raphael's "Transfiguration"--"The
Madonna"--Christian Martyrs--Sculptures--Tapestries--Leo
XIII.--Italian Priesthood--St. John Lateran--Marvellous legends
and relics--Native irreverence to sacred edifices 119
CHAPTER XII.
Excursion to Tivoli--Sulphur baths--Memories--Temple of the Sybil
--River Anio--Lovely scenery--Back to Rome--Post-office--Careless
officials--The everlasting "Weed"--Climate of Rome--Discomforts and
disappointments--Young Italy--Leo XIII.--Italian Politics--Cessation
of Brigandage--The new City--American church--_Italian Times_--
Departure for Naples--Regrets--The Three Taverns--A picturesque
route--Naples by night 137
CHAPTER XIII.
Naples--Bristol Hotel--Via Roma--King Bomba's time--Deterioration
of the Neapolitans--Museum--Churches--The Opera-house--English
and Italian beauty--Aquarium--Vesuvius--Excursion to Pompeii--
Portici--A novel mode of grooming--The entombed city--Its
disinterment--Museum, streets, and buildings--Remarks--A cold
drive 151
CHAPTER XIV.
Unprecedented cold of 1883--Departure from Naples--Virgil's
tomb--Journey to Messina--Italy's future--Scylla and Charybdis
--Beautiful Messina--The "_Electrico_"--Malta--Knight Crusaders
--Maltese Society--An uncommon fish--An earthquake at sea--Journey
to Palermo--Picturesque scenery--Etna--Among the mountains--The
lights of Palermo 168
CHAPTER XV.
Palermo--Oriental aspects--Historical facts--Royal Palace--Count
Roger--The Piazzi Planet--The Palatine Chapel--Walk to Monreale
--Beauty of the Peasantry--Prickly pears--"The Golden Shell"--
Monreale Cathedral--Abbey and Cloisters--English church--Palermo
Cathedral--Churches--Catacombs of the Capuchins--Gardens--Palermo
aristocracy--The Bersaglieri--Sicilian life and characteristics
--Climate and general features 191
CHAPTER XVI.
Annexation of Nice and Savoy--Garibaldi's protest--A desperate
venture--Calatafimi--Catania--Melazzo--Entry into Naples--Gaeta
--The British Contingent--Departure from England--Desertion--
Arrival in Naples--_Colonel_ "Long Shot"--Major H----'s imaginary
regiment--Dispersion of the British Contingent 204
CHAPTER XVII.
Floods in France--London--Back to the South--Marseilles--Italian
Emigrant passengers--A death on board--French _impolitesse_
--Italian coast scenery at dawn--Unlimited palaver--Arrival in
Leghorn--The "_Lepanto_"--Departure--"Fair Florence"--The Arno
--Streets--Palaces--San Miniato--The grand Duomo--The Baptistery
--Ghiberti's Bronze Gates 217
CHAPTER XVIII.
Santa Croce--San Lorenzo--Day and Night--Picture-galleries--The
Tribune--Venus di Medicis--Excursion to Fiesole--Ancient
Amphitheatre--Aurora _Café_--Climate of Florence--Heavy hotel
charges--Departure--Bologna sausages--Venice 228
CHAPTER XIX.
Arrival in Venice--The Water City--Gondola traffic--Past glories
--Danieli's Royal Hotel--St. Mark's Piazza--The Sacred Pigeons
--St. Mark's--Mosaics--The Holy Columns--Treasures--The Chian
Steeds--The modern Goth 241
CHAPTER XX.
A water-excursion--The Bridge of Sighs--Doge's Palace--Archæological
Museum--The Rialto--The streets of Venice--Aids to disease--Venetian
Immorality--The Arsenal--Nautical Museum--Trip to Lido--Glass works
--Venetian evenings--The great Piazza--Scene on the Piazzetta--
Farewell to Venice 253
CHAPTER XXI.
Leaving Venice--Hervey's Lament--Scenery _en route_--Padua--
Associations of the past--A brief history of Padua, and the House
of Carrara--General appearance of the town--Giotto's Chapel--His
beautiful frescoes--Character of Giotto's work--The Cathedral--
Palazzo della Ragione--The Wooden Horse--St. Antonio--The
Hermitage--The Fallen Angels--The University and its students
--Ladies of Padua--Situation of the city--An old bridge--Climate 264
CHAPTER XXII.
Journey from Padua--The great Quadrilateral--Historic Verona--Hotel
due Torri--Recent inundations--Poetic Verona--House of the Capulets
--Juliet's tomb--Streets and monuments--Cathedral--Roman Amphitheatre
--Shops--Veronese ladies--Departure--Romantic journey--Lake Garda
--Desenzano--Brescia 274
CHAPTER XXIII.
Arrival in Milan--Railway station--Tram carriages--History and
present condition--The Cathedral--Irreverence of Italian Priests
--The Ambrosian Liturgy--Sunday school--S. Carlo Borromeo--Relics
--A frozen flower-garden--View from the tower 287
CHAPTER XXIV.
Milan--Social and charitable--How to relieve our Poor--Leonardo's
"Last Supper"--Condition of churches in Italy--Santa Maria delle
Grazie--La Scala--Picture-galleries--St. Ambrogio--Ambrosian
library--Public gardens--Excursion to the Lakes--Monza--Como
--Lake scenery--Bellagio--American rowdyism 300
CHAPTER XXV.
Climate of Milan--Magenta--Arrival in Turin--Palazzo Madama--
Chapel of the Holy Napkin--The lottery fever--View from the
Alpine Club--Superga--_Academia della Science_--Departure--Mont
Cenis railway--The great Tunnel--Modane--Farewell to Italy 315
CHAPTER XXVI.
From Modane to Paris--Lovely scenery--St. Michel--St. Jean de
Maurienne--Epierre--Paris--Notre Dame--French immorality--La
Manche--"Dear old foggy London"--Reflections and conclusion 330
FAIR ITALY. THE RIVIERA
AND MONTE CARLO.
CHAPTER I.
Introduction--Charing Cross--Dover--Submarine Channel Tunnel--Calais
--Advantages of travelling second class--Superfluous examination of
luggage--Paris--Dining _à la carte_ versus _table d'hôte_--Noël--An
Officer's Funeral--Lyons--Scenery of the Rhone--Constant changes in
the landscape--Want of proper accommodation at the railway stations--
Defective lighting of railway carriages
If any person is desirous of putting forward a good excuse for spending
a few weeks on the continent, the climate of the British Isles at any
time of the year, but more particularly between November and May, will
always justify his so doing. To exchange the damp and fog that too
frequently form the staple of the weather about the festive time of
Christmas and the opening of the new year, for the bright clear skies
and sunny days of the south of France and Italy, is so pleasant, and
travelling is now so easy and so cheap, the only wonder is that more
people do not take advantage of it to leave "the winter of their
discontent" for a short time at this season.
In our case--that is, of myself and my wife--having not only this
disposition for a trip of a month or so, but also the leisure time at
our disposal, the only question was, in what particular direction was
our Hegira to be?
Our object being purely that of pleasantly spending our time and seeing
as many interesting places and objects as we possibly could, it really
mattered little whither we steered our course, provided it was to climes
where fogs are known to the natives only by hearsay, where Nature
assumes a brighter aspect, and Art collects her treasures to reward the
traveller for his pains.
We took down that most instructive though mysterious of all books,
"Bradshaw," and spreading out the map showing various continental lines
of railway, proceeded to study the network puzzle with a view of
determining which should be the land of our pilgrimage.
Should we cross the Pyrenees and traverse Spain, visiting Madrid and the
Escurial _en route_ to Seville, and thence through Andalusia and
Granada, and home by Valencia, Malaga, and Barcelona? Visions of Don
Quixote, Gil Blas, the Great Cid, and the Holy (?) Inquisition passed
before our mental eye in wondrous confusion.
"No, I don't think Spain will do," remarked my wife, slowly. "I fear
Spanish hotels--_posadas_, don't they call them?--are not very
comfortable."
"You are right," was my reply. "I have never heard Spain praised for
her hotel accommodation; and as we are going for pleasure, and wish to
be as comfortable as possible, we will leave Spain till _posadas_ are
things of the past. But what do you say to Italy? Beautiful climate,
charming scenery, the choicest Art treasures in the world, every mile
teeming with historic and poetic interest, good hotels, and generally
comfortable travelling!"
"Yes, Italy will do," decided my wife; and we folded up the map and
proceeded at once to examine the time-tables, lists of fares, calculate
the costs of first and second class, and plan our route. The book of
mystification was then almost ungratefully closed, and the serious
business of packing commenced.
On the 20th of December, 1882, my wife and I,
"Fired with ideas of fair Italy,"
started on our travels in good spirits. Having secured our tickets, we
put up at the Charing Cross Hotel for the night, so as to be ready to
start the first thing in the morning.
Whatever vague feelings of regret we might secretly have nourished in
leaving dear old England and our time-honoured, old-fashioned Christmas,
were quickly dispelled the next morning, for as we sped away by the 7.40
train for Dover the weather assumed its most dismal aspect--cold, raw,
damp, and foggy. So we started with easy consciences, resolved to obtain
all possible benefit and enjoyment from the change.
Before reaching Dover, a little sunshine struggled forth to gladden us;
but it was blowing rather hard when we arrived at our destination, and
there was something of a sea to frighten the timorous. Being pretty fair
sailors, however, and by the exercise of a little thoughtful physical
preparation, we did not suffer from the voyage, and were able to render
some assistance to others less fortunate.
After being at sea even for a few hours, there is much in the sound of
"land ahead" to raise one's spirits, perhaps more especially when
crossing the Channel. There is no one who does not hail with delight the
first sight of the shore. It gladdens the hearts of the sickly ones, and
soon their childlike helplessness disappears; hope and life return,
sending the warm blood once more to the pallid cheek, and lighting the
languid eye with fresh joy and anticipation. It is pleasant to see how
quickly the sufferers shake off the evil spirit of the sea--the terrible
_mal de mer_, pull themselves together, and step on shore, beaming with
heroic smiles.
It is just at this time that the submarine Channel Tunnel scheme
possesses peculiar interest for the thoughtful. All lovers of Old
England feel proudly and justly that this little "silver streak," with
its stormy waves and rock-bound shores, is, under the blessing of
Providence, her natural and national strength and glory. It has made her
sons daring and hardy, industrious, prosperous, and happy. It has
enabled her to people more than half the world with the Anglo-Saxon
race, and has extended her empire and influence beyond the setting sun.
It has made her the arbiter of the world, her sword--nay, her very word,
turning the scale against any power of wrong and might. It has protected
the world against the lust and avarice of Spain, and the conquering
tyranny of a Napoleon. It has made her the Bank and commercial depôt of
the whole globe, and the first of civilized and civilizing powers.
It is true that the more closely nations are connected by mutual
interests, the more prosperous they become and the more friendly they
are. And doubtless such a means of communication between Great Britain
and the continent would materially increase that mutual interest--might
even make sulky France more friendly towards us, and probably prove of
benefit both commercially and socially; but only so long as the insular
power of England is maintained. Although our army and navy are hardly as
strong as they should be, we want no conscription here. What we do want
is to preserve the peace and honour of our homes, our children in the
colonies, and to increase rather than decrease the power of England for
the good of the whole world.
Therefore, if a tunnel or tunnels be made, we must be sure beforehand
that they can be perfectly protected against the means of surprise and
invasion, that in no manner of way can they be made a weak point in our
harness. As for destroying the tunnel, there would in all probability be
a train or two in it when a surprise was intended, and what commander
would blow up or destroy it under such circumstances? I fear the tunnel
would prove a grand place for ruffians; and what hideous depredations
and murderous attacks might not be committed in transit! Five minutes is
in all conscience long enough to be under the depressing influence of a
Hadean tunnel, but it would be an evil spirit who could tolerate it for
the best part of an hour.
Arrived at Calais, the train was already waiting to carry us onward, but
there was ample time for breakfast.
Calais station always seems to be undergoing a certain kind of
metamorphosis; and with its sand-hills and generally unfinished
condition, reminds the traveller of some remote part of the world, such
as Panama, for instance. Some day it may possibly be able to digest the
passenger traffic from England to the continent, but at present much
time is lost there from its being so gorged. It is absolutely refreshing
to catch a glimpse of the Calais fish women, with their gay costume,
wonderfully frilled, spotless white caps, and healthy faces.
Soon we are spinning along towards Paris, the weather pretty fine so
far, but the country sadly flooded; and, the lowlands being under water,
the gaunt and leafless poplar trees are the most conspicuous objects of
the landscape. Then for miles we travel along through a gloomy drizzling
rain, the land looking most forlornly desolate. The arrival at Amiens,
however, cheers us a little, and here we get a stretch and some
refreshment. After leaving this place, always interesting for its
beautiful Cathedral, the weather brightens up, and we reach Paris in
good time for dinner.
Thus far we have found travelling second class very agreeable, for when
the trains are fast there are advantages in so doing--more room and less
expense than by first class.
At Paris the examination of luggage is a perfect nuisance. An
Englishman, and still more an English _woman_, very reluctantly hands
over her keys to a French gen d'arme, who, be your presence never so
imposing, ruthlessly capsizes your careful and thoughtful stowage,
whilst you angrily or impatiently watch your travelling sanctum pried
into by dirty-handed, over-zealous officials. The one examination at
Calais, when there was plenty of time, should surely have sufficed; but
at the end of a journey, when one is tired and anxious to get to one's
hotel and dinner, it is aggravating beyond measure.
On this occasion the ladies' baggage was particularly selected for
inspection, much to the annoyance of my wife, who most unwillingly gave
up her keys, and declared her opinion that "it was because gentlemen put
their cigars into the ladies' trunks." Of course this fully explained
it!
There is some difficulty in claiming one's possessions after their
examination, as there are legions of voracious hotel touters ready to
pounce upon not only "somebody's," but everybody's luggage, and the
owners too, if possible, and carry all off to the omnibuses attached to
their several hotels.
However, we at last arrive at the St. James Hotel, in the Rue St.
Honorè, where, as usual, there is quite an army of waiters to welcome
the "coming guest." To an inexperienced traveller, and indeed to my
pleased wife, this is gratefully accepted as a _warm welcome_, but those
who have had some little experience know better, or rather worse.
Fortunately, we secure a room on the third floor, and therefore so far
carry out our resolutions of economy! and now, in preference to the
sumptuous _table d'hôte_, we decide to dine _à la carte_, which means a
little table to yourself, where you may select what you wish to eat,
have it at any hour you please, and pay for just what you order. This is
not only less expensive, but far more quiet and comfortable after the
fatigue of a journey, than the crowded and imposing _table d'hôte_, with
its never-ceasing clatter and chatter, where you will be lucky if you
find a dish that will prove agreeable to your palate. Sometimes,
however, the change is enjoyable, as you cannot fail to be amused at the
eccentricities of your neighbours; perhaps finding your own weaknesses
reflected in them. Often you will find a dozen nationalities
represented, and a perfect Babel-like talk, each little exclusive party,
like crows, intent only upon covering its own nest.
Paris is beautifully brilliant at the festive seasons, the shops filled
with lovely and costly presents, arranged with that exquisite taste so
natural to the French artiste. I think they have some very pretty
sentiments about their "Noël." For instance, at early morn on Christmas
Day, whilst still in the land of dreams, a light tap comes at your
chamber door, and on rising you find it is a messenger bearing a bouquet
of choice and lovely flowers, with some dear friend's greeting.
Unfortunately the weather continued wet and cold; still, under cover of
the colonnades and on the fine boulevards there is always so
light-hearted and gay a throng, and so much to interest one, that it is
impossible to feel dull. Things here, however, quickly change from gay
to grave. A general officer's funeral passed through the boulevards
where we were standing, followed by a procession in which nearly every
branch of the army was represented. The open hearse, with coffin, was
covered with beautiful wreaths of flowers, among which lay the deceased
officer's sword, honours, etc. The touching expression of regret in the
faces of his comrades, and the respectful reverence evinced by the
people, making it altogether a very impressive sight.
The weather being still so wet, we decided not to remain after the
second day, and on the following morning left Paris by the 9.40 train
for Marseilles. The long journey, occupying some fourteen or fifteen
hours, is exceedingly tedious, and should be broken at Lyons, especially
in the summer-time.
Lyons is one of the largest and most important cities in France, very
interesting in its manufactures, and well worth a day or two's visit.
Unfortunately, like its sister Marseilles, with its huge working
population, it is extremely democratic, and only quite lately has been
the scene of a kind of communistic outbreak. The neighbouring scenery is
very striking and beautiful, in some places grand. We were reminded
somewhat of the Thames at Charing Cross when passing over the noble
bridge, with the great city stretching far and wide, and the numerous
bridges spanning the river. At night the illumination is a pretty and
brilliant sight.
In the summer the journey from Lyons to Marseilles in one of the many
flat-bottomed steamers would be very enjoyable, and a pleasant break to
the pent-up, wearisome railroad.
The scenery much resembles the Rhine, with its high cliffs, richly
wooded promontories, historic and baronial castles, and picturesque
chateaux. The turbulent river in some places dashing wildly by, and
separating two beautiful shores.
"Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between
Heights which appear, as lovers who have parted
In hate, whose mining depths so intervene,
That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted.
Love was the very root of the fond rage
Itself expired, but leaving them an age
Of years all winters,--war within themselves to wage."
How grand and sublime that part of the Rhone must appear, with its great
forest-clad cliffs, and the rushing foaming waters during a
thunderstorm!
The land is full of ancient interests, especially near Marseilles, at
Avignon and Arles. Here we meet with many old Roman settlements and
ruins.
Passing thus swiftly through France, we obtain a wonderfully
comprehensive idea of the country, and note the different products of
the soil springing into view in ever-varying profusion, making a
continuous change in the appearance of the landscape--a change which
would perhaps be less noticeable were the journey performed in a more
leisurely manner. Thus we pass from the wheat-growing country to the
land of the vine, and thence to that of the olive. And one cannot help
being struck by the wonderful industry of the people, women taking
almost more than their fair share of out-door work, in the fields, etc.
Up to the very summit of the hills and rocky knolls, terrace upon
terrace, every inch of ground, seems to be well cultivated.
I could not but think that in some places women are employed out of
their proper sphere, more particularly at the railway stations, where
one is shocked to find a woman where none but a man should be. And while
on this subject, it may be well to remark how exceedingly disgusting
some of the retiring places are at these stations--at all events, to
English men and women, who do not like being treated as cattle. At some
places it is really shocking, and the Lyons and Mediterranean railway
officials should certainly rectify this evil without loss of time; for
if the unpleasantness is so great in winter, what must it be during the
hot months?
The officials are most exemplary in providing fresh foot-warmers, but
not so particular in a more important matter--that of lighting the
carriages, even the first-class compartments being dull and gloomy in
the extreme. The kind of oil burnt has probably something to do with
it.