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 presentedby 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 dexterousin 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 MadameM⸺, 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, didI 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 toreceive 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’amourJe ne porterais plus la chaine,Redoutant les maux qu’il entraîJe voulais le fuir sans retourMais de sa puissance divine,Tout mortel se rit vainement.Lorsque je faisais ce sermentJe n’avais pas vu ma voisine.Depuis long temps ce Dieu malinPiqué 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 heureuxDe 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.
J’avais juré que de l’amourJe ne porterais plus la chaine,Redoutant les maux qu’il entraîJe voulais le fuir sans retourMais de sa puissance divine,Tout mortel se rit vainement.Lorsque je faisais ce sermentJe n’avais pas vu ma voisine.Depuis long temps ce Dieu malinPiqué 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 heureuxDe 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.
J’avais juré que de l’amourJe ne porterais plus la chaine,Redoutant les maux qu’il entraîJe voulais le fuir sans retourMais de sa puissance divine,Tout mortel se rit vainement.Lorsque je faisais ce sermentJe n’avais pas vu ma voisine.
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 malinPiqué 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.
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 heureuxDe 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.
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.
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 beexpressed 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 ofbrasieres, 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 indispensablefare 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 thefermiercultivates 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 contributionfoncier, 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, termedpiochê; 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 breastPants 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.
“Rapt in the soft retreat, my anxious breastPants 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.
“Rapt in the soft retreat, my anxious breastPants 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.
“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.