a character if defective, or to correct it if deformed; but here they
are truly to be pitied; for they soon experience a culpable neglect from
those men who ought to be their inseparable protectors and advisers, and
who, preferring the society of others, leave them incautiously to their
own pursuits and feelings. Is it to be wondered at that they should cease
to cultivate the domestic virtues?
To conclude; the French female contains within her those principles,
which, under proper cultivation, would produce excellent wives, and
estimable women; and it is a serious reflection upon the national
character, that such principles should be sacrificed by the indifference,
and neglect of those whose duty, as well as interest it is, to elicit and
establish her virtues.
CHAP. X.
ST. ROSALIE.
My first object, on arriving at Nice, was to ascertain whether Mr. L⸺,
lately one of my acquaintance at Aix, was yet at Nice, where he had
been for a time residing, and of which I was doubtful, as I knew that
he was about this time intending to proceed farther into Italy. I had
been apprised that I should hear of him at the house of Madame M⸺ at St.
Rosalie, about a mile and a half distant from the town; and, as I was
aware that he had paved the way to an introduction for me to this lady, I
procured a valet-de-place to conduct me thither. I had the happiness to
find him still in the neighbourhood, residing at a very short distance
from Madame M⸺, although on the point of proceeding on his proposed tour.
Through his recommendation, I was immediately received as an inmate in
the family of Madame M⸺, consisting of herself, two daughters, and a
young English lady, Miss T⸺.
The mansion of this lady was an attachment to the adjoining church of
St. Rosalie, now fallen into disuse, except as a family storeroom; the
bells, and other ecclesiastical articles, had been presented by Madame,
to the neighbouring church of Cimea, formerly a Roman settlement, with
still some interesting remains of an amphitheatre, baths, aqueduct, and a
temple of Apollo; and amongst which, ancient coins are still occasionally
discovered.
The domain of St. Rosalie is delightfully situated, and furnished with
shady walks, which offer a cool retreat amidst the severest heats of
summer: there was one formed of trellis-work, over-shadowed with the
vine, which was peculiarly grateful; here we frequently walked during
the heats of the day, or amused ourselves with the pleasures of reading;
to gratify my inclination for which my amiable companion Miss T⸺ would
kindly devote many hours of the day to the perusal of such authors as
most interested me; indeed I can never express sufficient gratitude for
the many sacrifices she made for my accommodation and amusement.
We here proposed to continue, until the nearer approach of winter, would
make a town-residence more agreeable. Our time passed away in the most
happy manner; Madame was busily occupied by the vintage, and in laying up
a stock of fruits, preserves, &c. in which the young ladies occasionally
assisted; nor could I remain an idle personage, and I proved myself far
more dexterous in cutting down the bunches of grapes, than my companions
were willing to have given me credit for. It was necessary that as little
time as possible, should be lost in this operation, as exposure to wet,
during the gathering of the grapes, injures the flavour of the wine: we
succeeded in completing our task in two days.
The process of making the wine is as follows:—The grapes being selected
and picked, are put into a large vat, where they are well trodden down
by the naked feet; after which, the liquor is drawn off from below;
the bruised grapes are then put into a press, and the remaining liquor
extracted. The whole of the juice is now transferred into casks with
their bungs open, and allowed to ferment, and discharge its impurities
for twelve, fifteen, or twenty days, according to the strength of the
grape; the waste occasioned by the discharge being constantly supplied
with fresh liquor. The casks are then carefully closed, and in about a
month the wine is considered fit for drinking.
When the grapes are of a bad, meagre kind, the wine-dealers mix the juice
with quicklime, in order to give it a spirit which nature has denied, or,
possibly, to take off acidity.
About this time, Dr. Skirving, an English physician, whom I had the
pleasure of knowing in Edinburgh, and an intimate acquaintance of Madame
M⸺, arrived with a view of establishing himself in practice at Nice. He
had originally become known at this place, in consequence of having been
detained in it by the illness of a friend, who in an intended voyage
from Civita Vecchia to Marseilles, ruptured a blood-vessel on his lungs,
by the exertions of sea-sickness, and was compelled to make this port,
where, after lingering some months, he died. Pleased with the situation,
and at the solicitations of his friends, he determined to make Nice his
permanent residence, and having arranged his affairs in England, was now
arrived to carry the plan into execution.
With a cultivated and liberal mind, Dr. S⸺ is possessed of superior
professional abilities; I had the pleasure of witnessing an interesting
recovery, under his care, in the person of a lady who had an abscess on
her lungs. At one time she was considered so near dissolution, that some
of her friends were importunate to have the last consolations of religion
administered to her; but my friend, aware of the danger of agitating
her mind at this critical moment, entreated that the measure might be
deferred, and she was afterward restored to comparative good health. If
any apology is necessary for this digression, it must be placed to the
score of the warmest friendship; indeed, I should feel myself ungrateful,
did I neglect to acknowledge this gentleman’s undeviating kindness to
myself.
The 15th of October now arrived, which, being St. Therese’s day, was the
fête of Madame M⸺, as well as the anniversary of my birth. The former
circumstance it may be necessary to explain. It is customary in this
country to name children after some favourite saint, to whose especial
protection they may thus be supposed to be committed; and hence, when the
annual fête of their patron arrives, it is made a day of congratulation
to themselves.
When it happens to be the fête of the father, or mother of a family,
their children prepare a nosegay, and bring it to them the first thing
in the morning, presenting it with some pretty and appropriate address;
after which, the day is spent in innocent pastime and amusement. But the
above tokens of respect are not confined to the children; the friends,
and dependants, also participate in offering them. In the present
instance, I prepared my nosegay, and offered it to my fair hostess
with undefinable sensations of pleasure, and of course did not allow
so favourable an opportunity to pass, without adding that well-merited
compliment, which politeness, and gratitude for her attentions prompted.
Now Madame was a pretty little sensible woman, who knew how to receive
a compliment from a gentleman, in a graceful and agreeable manner; and,
I really cannot wonder that the priests should appoint so many fêtes, if
they are to be attended with such agreeable circumstances to them, as I
experienced on this occasion.
Soon after this, the peasantry employed on Madame M⸺’s estate, came with
their nosegays, accompanied by presents of fruit, and were regaled with
breakfast; the day unfortunately proved rainy, or we should have enjoyed
a dance on the green. We had afterward a party to dinner; and the evening
concluded with singing, and other amusements. On Madame M⸺’s brother
being requested to sing he favoured us with the following, first drawing
his chair close to that of Miss T⸺, to whom he appeared to address the
sentiment.
J’avais juré que de l’amour
Je ne porterais plus la chaine,
Redoutant les maux qu’il entraî
Je voulais le fuir sans retour
Mais de sa puissance divine,
Tout mortel se rit vainement.
Lorsque je faisais ce serment
Je n’avais pas vu ma voisine.
Depuis long temps ce Dieu malin
Piqué de mon indifference,
Preparait tout bas sa vengeance:
Voyez combien l’amour est fin.
Sous les traits d’Aglae, et d’Aline,
Ne pouvant effleurer mon cœur,
Pour réussir le seducteur,
Prend ceux de ma belle voisine.
Si j’avais le talent heureux
De Zeuxis, ou de Praxitele,
Je peindrais la vertu si belle,
Qu’elle plairait à tous les yeux.
Elle aurait les traits de Cyprine,
De Junon l’air majestueux,
D’Hebé le souris gracieux;
Mais non! je piendrais ma voisine.
Qu’un soldat aime les lauriers,
Qu’on cueille au champ de la victoire;
Qu’un savant sur son vieux grimoire,
Se confonde des jours entiers,
Qu’un buveur, que rien ne chagrine,
A boire mette son plaisir.
Moi je ne forme qu’un desir,
C’est d’être aimé de ma voisine.
The air becoming sensibly cooler, it was determined to remove to our
winter-quarters in Nice, leaving St. Rosalie to its peasantry, now about
to commence getting in the olives, and express the oil, which is the
richest part of their harvest. The best olives are those which grow wild,
but the quantity of these is inconsiderable; they begin to collect them
in the early part of November, and this is repeated at intervals until
March or April; the fruit is beaten off the trees with long canes as it
ripens, which is known by its turning from a light green to a very dark
colour. The oil must be expressed immediately, and before the olives
fade or grow wrinkled, otherwise it will not be good. The whole are, in
the first instance, ground into paste by a millstone, set edgeways in a
circular stone trough, and turned by a mule or the power of water; this
paste is then put into cases, made of the same kind of grass which is so
much used in the Mediterranean for the manufacture of ropes and cables;
six or eight of which are piled one over the other, and then subjected
to a powerful press for a few minutes, by which the oil is forced out,
and received into a stone reservoir placed beneath it. While the oil is
passing from the press, hot water is frequently dashed over it, to make
it flow the better. The whole fluid is now transferred into a wooden vat,
half filled with water, in which the dregs fall to the bottom, while the
supernatant oil is skimmed off, and stored up in small oblong casks.
The remnant is now thrown into a large stone cistern containing water,
and allowed to continue there twelve or fourteen days, frequently
stirring it during that time; a coarser oil is then taken from its
surface, which serves for the purpose of burning in lamps, or in
manufactories. After these processes, they separate an oil still more
coarse and fetid, and occasionally grind the paste down with hot water,
which extracts a yet greater quantity of oily matter, but which in this
case soon grows rancid.
The dregs which remain after these operations, when dried, are used as
a fuel; particularly for warming, by means of _brasieres_, apartments
without chimneys.
There is, however, a very peculiarly fine preparation, called virgin oil,
and which is a great delicacy, eating like the sweetest butter; this is
made from green olives, and sold at a high price, as a great quantity of
the fruit yields but little oil.
The summer fruits, as grapes, figs, peaches, &c. were now over, but we
had great stores preserved for the winter’s use. There were, however,
neither oranges nor lemons this season, the unusually severe frost of
the preceding winter having killed all the trees: throughout France, and
about Genoa, most of the olive-trees also perished; but at Nice they were
more fortunate.
It may be interesting, to advert to the mode of life of the peasantry
of this district, and the nature of the tenure by which they hold their
land, as well as the manner of cultivating it.
The Nicean peasant is frugal and industrious, he takes no regular meal,
not even a breakfast, until after the conclusion of the labours of the
day, contenting himself with an occasional refreshment of bread, wine,
and fruit; at night he makes amends for this abstinence, but even now
rarely partakes of animal food, his favourite and indispensable fare
being soup, prepared with macaroni and vegetables, and mixed up with a
large quantity of oil.
The land around the city is divided into small parcels or farms, seldom
consisting of more than twelve or fourteen acres each, and which are
principally covered with vines, olives, and fruit-trees, the intermediate
spaces being filled up with abundance of vegetables, and small quantities
of grain, the chief supply of this important article being derived from
different parts of the Mediterranean.
The proprietor retains the actual possession of the farm, but the
_fermier_ cultivates it, collects its produce, and carries it to market;
he is bound also to plant, every year, a stipulated number of vines,
from three to six hundred, according to the size of the farm; and at his
sole expense to repair the walls and fences. The proprietor provides him
a house, pays the contribution _foncier_, and incurs half the expense
of manure, and of the animals necessary for carrying on the various
operations of the concern. The proprietor and fermier then share the
produce in equal proportions, except as relates to the olives, of which
the former takes three-fifths.
The ground is entirely cultivated by a kind of hoe, termed _piochê_; the
valuable instrument, the plough, being unknown in the whole country; nor
do they here seem acquainted with the use of carts, as even the manure is
conveyed in baskets, or barrels, on the backs of mules.
We now took leave of St. Rosalie; nor could I, without the highest
regret, tear myself away from its rural charms, not least amongst which
was the vine covered alley, “impervious to the noontide ray,” which had
so often offered us delightful shade, and refreshment, during the most
intense atmospheric heats; and where so many happy moments had glided
away in interesting conversation, and the rational amusement of reading,
frequently enlivened by the vocal powers of Madame M⸺ and her youngest
daughter.
I thought I could have reposed for ever in this semblance of an earthly
paradise; and yet there was something which, in my situation, I felt
still wanting to make me completely blest.
“Rapt in the soft retreat, my anxious breast
Pants still for something unpossessed;
Whence springs this sudden hope, this warm desire?
To what enjoyment would my soul aspire?
’Tis love! extends my wishes and my care,
Eden was tasteless ’till an Eve was there.
Almighty Love! I own thy powerful sway,
Resign my soul, and willingly obey.”—CHURCH.
CHAP. XI.
NICE.
We took up our residence at Nice, on the 17th of October in the house of
M. Audoli, situated in the suburb called St. John the Baptist: opposite
to us, a plank lay across the Paglion, which, when the water was low
afforded a ready access to the town; the bridge leading into it, being
situated at a considerable distance higher up.
Nice is far from being a large city, as I was able to make the tour of
its ramparts in twenty minutes; nor is it an interesting one; the streets
are narrow, and mostly on a level, with the exception of one or two which
lead to a part of the town situated in a hollow, and which have a step
every two or three yards to break the declivity.
In many streets you are annoyed by the thumping of machinery, employed in
the manufacture of macaroni, and which is required to force it into its
tubular form. The following is the process for manufacturing the ordinary
kind of macaroni or vermicelli: Equal parts of fine and coarse flour
are mixed together, and made into a paste with water, to which a small
quantity of saffron has been added to give it a yellow tinge. The whole
is then kneaded into a stiff paste, by means of a beam of wood, which is
worked by two or three men on the principle of the lever; after which
it is put into a strong cylinder of copper, with perforations in its
bottom, of such size as may be necessary to give the form of macaroni or
vermicelli, which ever may be intended. It is then forced through these
apertures into its tubular shape by a powerful screw, and cut of proper
lengths as it comes out, after which it is hung up in the air to harden.
One street, termed Rue de Juif, is exclusively appropriated to the Jews,
who are not allowed to reside in any other part of the town.
The _places_, St. Dominico and Victoire, are respectable squares: the
York hotel is situated in the former, which affords visitors superior,
and at the same time equally reasonable, accommodation, with the Hotel
des Etranger.
The most general residence for strangers, however, is beyond the suburb
of St. John the Baptist, at a part termed the Croix de Marbre, where a
number of houses, superior, in point of comfort, to the residence of
the natives, are kept for the purpose of accommodating them: houses
may, however, also be procured on the Cimea Hill, near the Port, in the
_Places_, and by the Terrace, as well as in other parts of the town.
The prices are variable, according to the season, situations, and demand
for them; and what you pay will be materially influenced by your skill
in bargaining: the prudent plan is to offer only half what they ask,
and from thence ascend, as they descend, until both agree, or you are
satisfied that you have proposed a fair price; and then if you stick to
your point, they will most probably accede to it. This is a better way of
arranging the business, than through the medium of your banker, who will
probably offer his services as an agent.
Nice has excellent markets, well supplied with provisions of all kinds,
at reasonable prices: viz. beef, five sous per pound; mutton, six sous;
veal and lamb, seven sous; but the pound consists only of twelve ounces,
and not, as in France, of from sixteen to twenty-two. The price of
butchers’ meat is fixed by the magistracy, and therefore invariable,
whereas that of poultry and butter fluctuates, these articles being
brought from the plains of Piedmont over the Col de Tende, at times
impassable; which circumstance of course enhances the value. Game is
scarce, and nearly as dear as in England; six francs being given for a
brace of woodcocks: hares, however, are more moderate in proportion.
Fish is plentiful, when the weather is favourable, and sells from six to
sixteen sous per pound. Vegetables and fruits are grown abundantly in
the environs.
Nice produces very fair wines, both red and white; but the most valuable
kind is that named _Billit_.
The accommodations for bathing are indifferent; the beach is rough and
stony, and there are no machines. On summer evenings, after it is dark,
the females take possession of the beach, on one side of the entrance of
the harbour, and there bathe, while the men go to a distant point.
There are, however, two sets of warm baths in the town, the one
constructed of marble, the other with copper; the former, situated near
the Place St. Dominico, are long, narrow, and shallow; when in them, you
only want a cover to make a good coffin—the latter, on the contrary,
situated on the ramparts between the bridge and the Place Victoire, are
so short and deep, that although you cannot lie down in them, you may
sit, and have the water up to your chin; in fact they form excellent
boilers, which would serve to stew you down, if required.
Among the many beautiful walks about Nice, the Terrace ranks foremost;
it is crowded on a summer’s evening, but during the winter is delightful
throughout the whole day, particularly on a Sunday afternoon, when a
military band occasionally attends for an hour or two. The walks to the
Port, and around the ramparts, are also very agreeable.
In the environs of the town, a great deal of beautiful scenery will be
found, embellished with aqueducts, temples, and other Roman remains,
particularly in the direction of the Cimea road; and that leading to
Genoa, from which there is a most commanding view of the sea, Nice, and
its neighbourhood, with the Paglion flowing in the valley beneath, the
Turin road lying by the side of it, over which, on the opposite side of
the river, stands the Cimea Hill.
Only three good carriage roads will be found at Nice, one leading to
the Var, another to Turin, and the third to Genoa; there is also one to
Villa Franca, but so steep, that many do not like to venture up it; the
preferable way of visiting this latter place, is to row there in a boat
or felucca, and return on foot.
Villa Franca is a small, but strongly fortified town, distant about two
miles from Nice, built at the extremity of a fine harbour, in a situation
admirably adapted for the site of a more important place. It consists of
very indifferent buildings, and its streets are narrow, and wretchedly
paved.
Nice and its environs do not offer a very extensive field to the
naturalist. The surrounding mountains are, however, covered with a great
variety of plants during the whole year; and, of course, the botanist
will find ample amusement. The mineralogy of the neighbourhood is but
limited, the whole of the hills around the city consisting chiefly of
limestone, with some few beds of gypsum. In the beds of the mountain
torrents, portions are occasionally found of granite, gneiss, clay-slate,
flinty-slate, serpentine and feltspar; but these specimens so small and
so much weathered, that it is often difficult to distinguish them.
The geology of Nice is more interesting; the calcareous rocks afford
many specimens of what the French call the _breche osseuse_, in which
small fragments of bones are cemented together by argillaceous matter,
which has acquired a reddish colour from the presence of iron. Near Villa
Franca some of the limestone contains a great number of shells, the
species of many of which still exist in the Mediterranean. The rising
grounds near the Var are wholly formed of a coarse breccia, the cement of
which is argillaceous, impregnated with iron; extensive excavations have
here been made to procure clay for the manufacture of tiles, in which
great numbers of shells are found imbedded, with occasional vegetable
remains.
I believe the sea-shore produces a number of shells which would be
interesting to the conchologist.
I shall now make some remarks respecting the state of society at Nice.
There were English residents enough to form sufficiently large circles
amongst themselves, besides numerous others who visited the place, _en
passant_, to and from Italy. A few German, and Russian, families were
also spending their winter here, who associated largely with the English.
These visited each other, and gave dinner, and evening parties, and
balls occasionally. The natives, however, were not excluded from this
society, although the incomes of few would permit their returning the
invitation in equal stile. The hospitality, however, of the governor,
made amends for the deficiency. This officer, only gave dinner parties
to the gentlemen; but had balls for the ladies once a week during the
Carnival; and evening parties, in the same way, throughout the remainder
of the winter, paying both by himself, and his aid-de-camps, the
greatest possible attention to his visitors. He had, however, no regular
government-house, and the one which he occupied was scarcely large enough
for the accommodation of his numerous guests. The only ceremony necessary
to enable a stranger to receive his attentions, was to leave his card,
which the governor always acknowledged in person.
The nobility of Nice, never think of visiting their countrymen who
have not titles, notwithstanding many of them are people of great
respectability, as professional men, merchants, &c.; at the same time,
they have no objection to meet them at the houses of strangers. It might
have been conceived that the experience of the French revolution would
have taught them differently; besides, it is a matter of no difficulty
to procure a title, for I am informed that it only costs sixty louis to
purchase that of a count, and twenty-five to become a baron. But let me
not be mistaken for a leveller of distinctions, no one has a greater
respect for the Patrician order than myself, when its dignities have been
the meed of talent or of virtue.
“Order is Heaven’s first law, and this confest,
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest.”