[Illustration: TOMB OF AGNES SOREL AT LOCHES
By permission of Mansell & Co.]
WINGED WHEELS
IN FRANCE
BY
MICHAEL MYERS SHOEMAKER
Author of "Islands of Southern Seas," "The Great Siberian Railway,"
"The Heart of the Orient," "Prisons and Palaces of Mary, Queen of
Scots," Etc.
ILLUSTRATED
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
1906
_Copyrighted 1906 by
Michael Myers Shoemaker_
TO
MY DEAR FRIEND
MRS. W. P. HULBERT
OF CINCINNATI
PREFACE
This is not a love story. These wings are wings of motion, not of
Cupid, yet there is much of romance and story in these pages,--for who
can travel the _plaisant pays de France_ and not dip deeply into both?
When I entered my red machine at Nice no route had been laid out,--to
me there is small pleasure in travel when that is done,--so I told
Jean to start and left the direction to him. Being French he naturally
turned towards his own country, and knowing whither the superb highways
and enchanting byways could lead one, I tacitly agreed, and we glided
away by the level sea and on into the olive-crowned hill of Provence,
to where Aix--the home of politeness--dreams the years away and the air
seems still to echo to King René's music. Arles, Narbonne, fantastic
Carcassonne, Lourdes, and Pau followed in rapid succession, and then
we rested awhile at Biarritz with short journeys into Spain. Turning
northward we rolled off into Central France, pausing daily in some
ancient city or quaint village, climbing mountains to long forgotten
castles, or rolling into valleys in search of deserted abbeys.
So we wandered through Auvergne, through courtly Touraine, sad Anjou,
and stormy Brittany, until Normandy and Picardy smiled into our faces
and Paris received us within her gates. Exploring the surroundings of
that great city as one can do only in an auto, we finally glided off
through the forest of Fontainebleau and Côte-d'Or to the mountains
of the Vosges and thence over the Schlucht to the Rhine Valley to
Freiburg, and up to Baden-Baden. There the spirits of the woods seized
upon us and we promptly got lost in the Black Forest, and so rolled
on into Switzerland to Geneva and finally to Aix-les-Bains, where the
journey ended and I bade goodbye to my staunch car which had carried
me without mishap or delay for near five thousand miles. To its winged
wheels the highest mountains of France were no barrier.
If all this pleases you, read these pages--if not, drop the book.
M. S. M.
Union Club, N. Y.
June, 1906.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
MONTE CARLO 1
CHAPTER II.
OUR DEPARTURE FROM NICE--THE ROAD TO AIX--THE CITY OF KING RENÉ 8
CHAPTER III.
THE ROAD TO ARLES--THE CAMARGUE--RUINS OF ARLES--THE "ALISCAMPS" 17
CHAPTER IV.
THE ROUTE TO TARASCON--CASTLE OF KING
RENÉ--BEAUCAIRE--NÎMES--MONTPELLIER--AN ACCIDENT--NARBONNE,
ANCIENT AND MODERN 22
CHAPTER V.
THE APPROACH TO CARCASSONNE--ITS PICTURESQUENESS--ITS RESTORATION
AND HISTORY 29
CHAPTER VI.
THE ROUTE TO TOULOUSE--GREAT MACHINES ON THE ROADS OF
FRANCE--DELIGHTS OF AN AUTO--TOULOUSE--ITS UNIVERSITY--THE CHÂTEAU
DE ST. ELIX 36
CHAPTER VII.
THE DEATH OF A DOG--ENCOUNTERS ON THE HIGHWAY--TRAVELLERS BY THE
WAY--PEOPLE OF THE PROVINCES--LOURDES--HER SUPERSTITION AND
HER VISIONS 43
CHAPTER VIII.
PAU AND THE LIFE THERE--DELIGHTFUL ROADS--ANCIENT ORTHEZ--MADAME
AND HER HOTEL--THE CHÂTEAU OF BIDACHE AND ITS HISTORY 49
CHAPTER IX.
THE ROUTE TO BIARRITZ--BIARRITZ--THE HÔTEL DU PALAIS 58
CHAPTER X.
THE ROAD TO THE MOUNTAINS--ST. JEAN-PIED-DE-PORT--ST.
JEAN-DE-LUZ--MARRIAGE OF LOUIS XIV--ISLAND OF PHEASANTS--THE
ROADS IN SPAIN--THE SOLDIERS OF SPAIN--SAN SEBASTIAN 62
CHAPTER XI.
DEPARTURES FOR THE NORTH--CRAZY CHICKENS--GRAND ROADS--DAX--RIDES
THROUGH THE FORESTS--FRENCH SCENERY AND
PEOPLE--MARMANDE--AUTOMOBILE CLUB OF FRANCE AND ITS WORK 69
CHAPTER XII.
RAPID MOTION--BEAUMONT--RACES AND DASHES--CADOUIN AND ITS
CLOISTERS--THE ROUTE TO TULLE 76
CHAPTER XIII.
THE GREAT COURSE OF BELMONT--DIFFICULT STEERING--THE "CUP GORDON
BENNETT"--THE MOUNTAINS TO CLERMONT-FERRAND 82
CHAPTER XIV.
CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN IN AN AUTO--THE CHÂTEAU OF TOURNOËL--ITS
HISTORY--DESCENT OF THE MOUNTAIN 86
CHAPTER XV.
ANCIENT TOWN OF RIOM--THE ROUTE TO VICHY--CHÂTEAU DE
BOURBON-BUSSET--VICHY--THE LIFE THERE--DANGER OF SPEEDING--ARRIVAL
AT BOURGES 95
CHAPTER XVI.
ANCIENT BOURGES--ITS CATHEDRAL--HOUSE OF JACQUES COEUR--LOUIS
XI. AND THE HÔTEL LALLEMENT--THE HÔTEL CUJAS--THE RIDE TO
MEILLANT--ITS SUPERB CHÂTEAU--ITS LEGEND 102
CHAPTER XVII.
DEPARTURES FROM BOURGES--THE CHÂTEAU OF MEHUN--THE DEATH OF
CHARLES VII--THE VALLEYS OF TOURAINE--ROADS BY THE LOIRE--ENTRANCE
TO TOURS 113
CHAPTER XVIII.
RIDE TO LOCHES--AN ACCIDENT--THE CASTLE OF LOCHES--ITS HISTORY--THE
CAGES OF LOUIS XI.--THEIR COST TO THE KING--AGNES SOREL--THE
MISTRESSES OF FRENCH KINGS VERSUS THEIR QUEENS 116
CHAPTER XIX.
AUTOMOBILES IN TOURS--DEPARTURE FROM THE CITY--THE ROAD TO
CHINON--ROMANCE AND HISTORY OF CHINON--THE ABBEY OF
FONTEVRAULT--RICHARD COEUR DE LION AND HIS TOMB--THE DEAD KING
HENRY II 130
CHAPTER XX.
THE ROAD TO ANGERS--CATHEDRAL AND TOMB OF KING RENÉ--CASTLE OF
BLACK ANGERS--CRADLE OF THE PLANTAGENETS--HISTORY--TO
CHATEAUBRIANT IN A STORM--A FRENCH INN--RENNES AND THE TRIAL OF
DREYFUS--THE ROADS IN BRITTANY--ARRIVAL AT ST.-MALO--THE RIDE TO
MONT ST.-MICHEL--INN OF THE POULARD ÂINÉ--THE CATHEDRAL AND
CASTLE--THEIR HISTORY 138
CHAPTER XXI.
ARRIVAL AT CAEN--WILLIAM THE NORMAN AND CHARLOTTE CORDAY--CHURCH OF
ST. ÉTIENNE--PEOPLE AND RAILROADS OF NORMANDY--ROUEN AND ITS
CHURCHES--THE MAID OF ORLEANS, HISTORY OR LEGEND?--CASTLE OF
PHILIPPE LE BEL--DEPARTURE FROM ROUEN 149
CHAPTER XXII.
THE RACE THROUGH PICARDY--AMIENS CATHEDRAL--ITS VASTNESS--THE
ROAD TO BOULOGNE 161
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE RIDE TO BEAUVAIS--DEAD DOGS--GREAT CHURCHES--BEAUVAIS BY
NIGHT--VAST WEALTH OF THE CHURCHES OF FRANCE--WONDERFUL TAPESTRIES 166
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE ROUTE TO SAINT-GERMAIN-EN-LAYE--THE PEOPLE--THE CASTLE AND
TERRACE--THEIR PICTURESQUE HISTORY--FIRST VIEW OF PARIS 174
CHAPTER XXV.
PARIS AND HER SO-CALLED REPUBLICAN GOVERNMENT--NECESSITY FOR AN
AUTOMOBILE--THE RIDE TO CHARTRES--CATHEDRAL NOTRE DAME--THE
AQUEDUCT AT MAINTENON AND ITS BURDEN OF SORROW--THE CASTLE OF
MAINTENON--MADAME AND LOUIS XIV.--ST. CYR AND HER DEATH--RETURN
TO PARIS 180
CHAPTER XXVI.
MY CHAUFFEUR SUMMONED BY THE GOVERNMENT--THE NEW MAN--YAMA'S
OPINION OF PARIS--SPEED OF AUTOS IN PARIS 194
CHAPTER XXVII.
DEPARTURE FROM PARIS--THE CEMETERY OF THE PICPUS--RIDE THROUGH THE
FOREST OF FONTAINEBLEAU TO SENS--THE CATHEDRAL--TOMB OF THE
DAUPHINS--THE GREAT ROUTE TO GENEVA--STONED BY BOYS--TONNERRE 198
CHAPTER XXVIII.
DIJON--THE FRENCH AND FRESH WATER--THE ANTIQUITIES OF DIJON--RIDE
THROUGH THE CÔTE D'OR--ARRIVAL AT BESANÇON 208
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE FORTRESS OF BESANÇON--AUTOS IN HEAVY
RAINS--DREAMS--BELFORT--ENTRANCE INTO THE VOSGES--THE RISE TO
BALLON D'ALSACE--SUPERB RIDE TO GÉRARDMER 215
CHAPTER XXX.
GÉRARDMER AND THE MOUNTAINS--A WEDDING--FRENCH
COURTSHIP--EXCURSION TO ST. DIÉ--OVER THE COL DE LA
SCHLUCHT--GERMAN CUSTOM HOUSE--"ALWAYS A GERMAN"--COLMAR--RHINE
VALLEY--ARRIVAL AT FREIBURG 222
CHAPTER XXXI.
FREIBURG--FANTASTIC CITY--THE YOUTHS OF GERMANY--MUSIC AND LEGENDS
OF THE OLD TOWN--CATHEDRAL BY MOONLIGHT 227
CHAPTER XXXII.
FROM FREIBURG TO BADEN-BADEN--THROUGH THE WOODS TO
GERNSBACH--SUPERB ROADS--PEOPLE OF THE BLACK FOREST--CROSSING THE
DANUBE--CUSTOMS REGULATIONS AS TO AUTOS--AN OLD SWISS MANSION--THE
RIDE TO GENEVA AND AIX-LES-BAINS 232
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
TOMB OF AGNES SOREL AT LOCHES _Frontispiece._
By permission of Mansell & Co.
INTERIOR OF THE CASINO AT MONTE CARLO 2
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
CLOISTERS OF THE CATHEDRAL AT AIX 14
From a photograph
THE PORTAL OF THE CATHEDRAL OF SAINT TROPHIMUS, ARLES 16
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
EXTERIOR OF THE AMPHITHEATRE AT ARLES 18
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE ALISCAMPS AT ARLES 20
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
GENERAL VIEW OF THE CHÂTEAU OF KING RENÉ AT TARASCON 24
From a photograph
THE FORTIFICATIONS AT THE OLD TOWN OF CARCASSONNE 30
From a photograph
THE GROTTO AT LOURDES 46
By permission of Messrs. Lévy
THE BRIDGE OVER THE GAVE AT ORTHEZ 52
By permission of Messrs. Lévy
CHÂTEAU OF BIDACHE 54
From a photograph
MAISON DE L'INFANTE AT SAINT-JEAN-DE-LUZ 64
From a photograph
INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH OF SAINT JOHN AT SAINT-JEAN-DE-LUZ 66
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE HOME OF MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ AT VICHY 96
By permission of Jules Hautecoeur
RUE DE L'ÉTABLISSEMENT AT VICHY 100
From a print
THE SOUTH PORTAL OF THE CATHEDRAL AT BOURGES 102
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE PALACE OF JACQUES COEUR AT BOURGES 104
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
HÔTEL LALLEMENT AT BOURGES 106
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
CHÂTEAU OF MEHUN NEAR BOURGES 108
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CHÂTEAU AT MEILLANT 110
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE GRAND SALON OF THE CHÂTEAU OF MEILLANT 112
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CHÂTEAU OF LOCHES 116
From a photograph
THE ENTRANCE TO THE CHÂTEAU OF LOCHES 118
From a photograph
THE CAGE IN WHICH JEAN DE LA BALUE WAS IMPRISONED FOR ELEVEN YEARS 122
LOUIS XI 126
From the engraving by Hoopwood
GENERAL VIEW OF CHINON 132
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
PAVILION DE L'HORLOGE AT CHINON 134
From a photograph
THE COURT OF THE CLOISTERS, ABBEY OF FONTEVRAULT 136
By permission of J. Kuhn
TOMBS OF RICHARD I. AND ELEONORE OF GUINNE AT FONTEVRAULT 138
From a photograph
THE STATUE OF KING RENÉ AND THE CHÂTEAU AT ANGERS 142
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
MONT SAINT-MICHEL, FROM THE SOUTH 144
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CLOISTERS OF THE ABBEY OF MONT SAINT-MICHEL 146
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CRYPT DE L'AQUILON IN THE ABBEY OF MONT SAINT-MICHEL 148
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
LA TRINITÉ, ABBEY OF WOMEN, AT CAEN 150
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE ABBEY OF MEN AT CAEN 152
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
CHARLOTTE CORDAY 154
After the painting by Raffet
MONUMENT OF CARDINAL D'AMBOISE IN ROUEN CATHEDRAL 156
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE TOMB OF LOUIS DE BRÉZÉ IN THE CATHEDRAL OF ROUEN 158
From a photograph
THE CATHEDRAL AT ROUEN 160
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
A HOUSE OF THE 15TH CENTURY AT ROUEN 162
From a photograph
THE GREAT CLOCK OF ROUEN 164
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE TOWER OF JEANNE D'ARC AT ROUEN 168
From an old print
THE CATHEDRAL AT AMIENS 170
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE GRAND PORTAL OF THE CATHEDRAL OF BEAUVAIS 172
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
OLD HOUSES ON THE RUE DE LA MANUFACTURE, BEAUVAIS 174
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE TERRACE AT SAINT-GERMAIN 176
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CHÂTEAU OF SAINT-GERMAIN, FROM THE NORTH 180
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE NORTH PORTAL OF THE CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES 182
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE SOUTH PORTAL OF THE CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES 184
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES 186
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
STONE CARVINGS SURROUNDING THE CHOIR OF THE CATHEDRAL AT CHARTRES 188
From a photograph
THE VIERGE DU PILIER IN THE CATHEDRAL OF CHARTRES 190
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE VIADUCT OF MAINTENON, NEAR CHARTRES 192
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CHÂTEAU OF MAINTENON, FROM THE NORTH 196
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE TOMB OF LAFAYETTE IN THE PICPUS CEMETERY, PARIS 200
From a photograph
THE CEMETERY OF THE PICPUS. LAFAYETTE'S TOMB ON THE RIGHT,
TABLET TO ANDRÉ CHÉNIER ON THE LEFT 202
From a photograph by the author
THE CATHEDRAL AT SENS 204
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE TOMB OF JEAN SANS PEUR AT DIJON 210
From a photograph
THE WELL OF MOSES IN THE ABBEY OF CHARTREUX AT DIJON 212
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE TOWER OF STATE, PALACE OF THE DUKES OF BOURGOGNE, AT DIJON 216
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
LA SCHLUCHT. THE TUNNEL ON THE ROAD TO MÜNSTER 224
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein
THE CATHEDRAL OF FREIBURG, BADEN 228
By permission of F. Firth & Co.
A CORNER IN THE BLACK FOREST 236
From a photograph
THE MANOR HOUSE AT WÜLFLINGEN, NEAR WINTERTHUR 238
From a photograph
INTERIOR OF THE MANOR HOUSE AT WÜLFLINGEN, NEAR WINTERTHUR 240
From an old woodcut
WINGED WHEELS IN FRANCE
CHAPTER I
MONTE CARLO
"Monsieur smiles." To begin a journey with the greeting of a little
child should be a happy omen. I am leaning over the terrace at Monte
Carlo, watching the sparkle of the shifting sea. Away to the eastward
glisten the villas on Cape Martan, to the west rises the ancient city
of Monaco, behind me towers the Casino, the scene of more misery
than almost any other spot on earth. Beyond and above it, rise the
hills tier on tier, dotted with hotels and villas, while far in the
blue dome of sky soar the eternal snows. A scene of beauty, yet one
so familiar that I scarcely note it; neither are my thoughts of the
nearby misery in the Casino when the little voice murmurs "Monsieur,"
and I see at my feet, seated on the marble of the terrace with masses
of rhododendrons all around her, a mite of a girl, with sunny hair
and blue eyes, who laughingly holds up for my acceptance a pink rose.
It evidently is not considered proper for a young lady of her age
to be talking to a strange man and she is accordingly hustled away,
her wondering and rebellious eyes gazing back at me as she waves a
farewell. Bless her little heart, it must be almost the only innocent
thing in this sink of iniquity. With her disappearance, I have the
place all to myself, the town gives up no sounds of life and soon even
the sea has murmured itself to sleep, while yonder building, from the
outside, is silent as a tomb now; yet as I enter I find every table
in all the vast rooms so hemmed in by a struggling humanity, that I
must wait my turn almost before throwing away good money if such is
my desire. All the nations of the earth come here, and to manage and
keep them in check, hundreds of detectives in plain clothes are always
present. Yonder a man has dropped a pocket-book, which is at once
pounced upon, and he is hustled through some door in the wall which
has escaped your notice. Probably he is a thief, and will not return.
If you end your life at the suicides' table--the last on the right on
your way out--your body will be hustled off in a like manner, and the
crowd without turning to look after you will close in again, leaving
no sign that you have ever been. It is said that there is a carriage
belonging to this establishment especially arranged so that a dead man
may be driven away seated erect as though alive without shocking the
senses of those who are here for pleasure. These people would rather
you did not kill yourself and will give you a ticket home if you will
go, but if you must pass to the great beyond, there will be no high
mass said over your silent face and no further attention paid to your
stiff fingers which have ceased to pour gold on the green tables. This
world has no use for one whose pockets are empty--his day is done and
he might as well be dead.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE CASINO AT MONTE CARLO
By permission of Messrs. Neurdein]
You will not be impressed with the misery of Monte Carlo unless you
walk this terrace after dark and note the dejected figures huddled up
on the benches beneath the rhododendrons. The sea does not seem to
receive many of them, yet it is a better mode of exit than to throw
one's self beneath the wheels of the trains rushing east and west just
beneath here. Yesterday a man was literally swept off the wheels of a
locomotive--there was nothing to pick up.
Inside these halls everything is done quietly and in order. There is
never any confusion or noise, and you must check hat, overcoat, and
stick before you enter. Save for the orchestra in the outer hall there
is nothing to be heard but the subdued call of the croupier, the click
of the rakes against the heaps of gold on the tables, and the whir of
the wheels. The game does not interest me, as I always lose, but the
circles of silent, intent faces form a study I never tire of until
the perfume-laden air drives me out of doors. To-night there are some
windows opened, the air is purer and as yet the crush is not too great;
so let us watch for a time this world of Monte Carlo. As I wander
through the over-decorated and gorgeous rooms there is space to move
about, the people are not so absorbed in play and occasionally raise
their eyes from the "green carpet," affording one a glimpse of the
souls behind them--gay, desperate, indifferent--sodden with misery or
drunk with the love of gambling; they are all here, the only impassive
face is that of the man at the wheel who in both garb and countenance
strongly resembles a funeral director, and his long rake generally
buries your hopes as effectually as the spade of the grave-digger. What
queer figures are hereabouts. Look at that old, old man intent only
on the whirling of the wheel. His daughter stands behind him stowing
his gains away. It is pure business with both of them. Beyond stands
a woman who has not been young for years and who was never beautiful,
though she may perhaps have possessed the fascination of the devil,
with that red hair and those green eyes; but to-night at least, there
is nothing about her which will make clear to you why a Russian Grand
Duke should have gone crazy for her. She is gowned in soft sea green
and trailing mosses, as though she had risen from the unsounded sea
gleaming in the moonlight yonder, while upon neck, arms, and head is
one of the most wonderful displays of diamonds I have ever seen. Both
in size and brilliancy, they rival any of the crown jewels of Europe,
and were, so it is said, all given her by that Grand Duke. She is under
the constant watch and ward of two armed detectives. She has the face
of a vampire, and that word probably describes her character. The
Grand Duke is not here and has probably gone the way of all men of his
kind long since.
Near her, and most intent upon the game, is a young American, who is
called the easiest victim that has come to Monte Carlo in many a day.
He has a face which most American mothers would be apt to trust, a
smiling countenance, with dark eyes and hair, while his slender figure
tells of his youth. It is said that he has dropped one hundred thousand
dollars on these green tables within a short time. To-night he is
certainly dead to all around him save that whirling ball. Poor fool!
Near me moves a smartly gowned, chic, French, auburn-haired woman,
delicate in form and features, and wedded to that man near her, a huge
edition of Louis XVI. Cupid's mind was preoccupied when he made that
match. She is the author of several novels which have made some stir in
the world, especially in English high life which she handles without
gloves.
A woman behind me, evidently an American, is telling of her desertion
by an American and of her destitute state. She will not fool the
man who is with her now, as I discover by a glance. But what fools
we mortals be, especially we men mortals! The other day in London I
was dining at Prince's. The dinner was well advanced when I became
conscious of a voice behind me, evidently an American and as evidently
young. He was pouring out his life story to the woman, oblivious of
all around him. To please his mother he had married a woman he could
never love; in fact, he never had known what love was until he met his
present companion.
"How old are you," he asked.
"How old do you think?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Not yet twenty-four," came the reply.
I managed by much manoeuvering to catch a glimpse of her face; the
usual thing, painted and dyed, certainly forty if a day. As I passed
out, I asked the head waiter who she was. "Bless your soul, sir, one
of the most notorious women of London; used to live at the Savoy; has
ruined more men than she can count; age, well forty-five if a day; why
she was old when I first saw her and that was long ago."
As he was talking, the couple passed me, the poor fool of a boy flushed
with wine, the woman such a palpable fraud that it was of no interest
to follow. In the glare of the street lamps she gave him a look and
me a look, which fully told her story. While one may excuse such
infatuation in a young man, one cannot do so in a man of middle life,
for he surely knows that, while it is possible for him to attract the
respect and even love of a good woman, a bad woman will have use for
him only so long as his money holds out and he is a fool if he does not
understand this. There are many such fools and homes are constantly
being wrecked, lives destroyed by them. There are many such women in
these rooms at Monte Carlo, and the ruin they strew broadcast is only a
shade less in degree than that of the spinning wheels.
As I pass outside, the air is full of the balmy odor of the orange
and lemon; the sky, deep blue, is spangled with myriads of stars and
a new moon gleams over Monaco; while the waters of the sea lap a
lullaby, and the world seems full of peace. The scene is beautiful past
description and I linger a while on one of the many benches facing the
Casino, linger until I discover that its other occupant is huddled up
in the far corner with a face full of staring misery, and then as I
pass onward I realize that almost every bench holds one or more such
hopeless wretches.
But enough of Monte Carlo with its glitter and misery. Let us pass to
Nice, stretching away on the shores of the sea with its pale yellow
and green houses glowing in the sunshine and its promenade full of
everything that can move.