CORSICA AS SEEN BEFORE SUNRISE.
MENTONE.
A week later witnessed the grandest event of the season, for on 10th February the keeping of the Carnival commenced. For some days previously, the shops were full of false faces, wire gauze masks, strange dresses, and confetti; and cars were in course of decoration for the event, which necessarily, in a small place like Mentone, could only be upon a small scale. The coming affair was the grand talk of the town, and we had even some masquerading before it came. At last the eventful morning dawned. It was a complete holiday. Every one turned into the streets, or took possession of windows, balconies, and other salient points; while the promenade was ornamented with long venetian decorated poles, such as we had planted in the streets of Edinburgh when the Queen came to unveil the Prince Consort’s statue in 1876. Balconies were draped, flags were everywhere fluttering in the breeze, and the Cercle where prizes were to be distributed was gaily dressed with evergreens and coloured calico. At mid-day the procession was expected to move; but it was much too important to move off so early, and did not commence till two o’clock. Meantime the streets were filled with people in the oddest and most comical attire, with masks on their faces, rendering them unrecognisable by their friends. One of these figures was absurdly dressed in feathers as a huge cock, while another represented a still larger eagle. All this time the people were peppering each other with confetti, small round chalk pellets smaller than peas. But the grand peppering was reserved for the procession, which at last hove in sight. It was preceded by a car filled with musicians in carnival costume, who did not play, being probably afraid lest their instruments might suffer damage. Then a long row of fancy soldiers ambled forward on horseback, two and two, dressed in a uniform of blue coat and white trousers, looking very gay. Then various cars were dragged slowly or staggeringly along in odd devices, one of which was the representation of a gigantic lobster pie filled with men dressed out in red as boiled lobsters, while the horses had vast coverings as black or unboiled lobsters. Another car personified classical statuary, the men and women being chalked or painted over in white, and intended to be motionless, but as taken being well shaken, not always succeeding in preserving either rigidity or composure. Various other cars, besides walking figures, and people in carriages, all disguised, completed the procession, which, like a stage army, to make up for the want of numbers, passed round the circle and repassed repeatedly. All this time, the people in the street, or on the balconies or scaffoldings erected for the occasion, and in the carriages and cars, continued to fire away at each other a copious shower of confetti. These were discharged with a right good-will; but all, except the improvident, being protected by masks and calico garments, no damage was suffered, except when a man audaciously appeared in a good hat, which hat was battered by discharges of confetti without mercy. Young men and young ladies adopted the novel method of flirting by vigorously pelting each other, and wicked men would quietly and furtively slip a handful of confetti down a woman’s open neck. This tomfoolery was begun upon the Saturday and continued upon the Monday, but was not practised upon the Sunday at Mentone. At Nice, however, where the English do not preponderate, the Carnival, which was there upon a larger scale, was kept up on the Sunday, and about twenty of the visitors (foreigners, of course) at our hotel went to Nice to see it. On the Monday night the promenade was lighted up by means of paper Chinese lanterns, and there was an exhibition of fireworks, concluding with setting in blaze a giant figure representing ‘the Mentone man,’ well stuffed with tar. The streets on the following day, as well as previously, were covered with the chalk pellets, and it was some time before they were swept and restored to their ordinary condition.
Of a different sort were other days regarded as eventful in so quiet a place as Mentone. A fall of snow was an event, the discovery of ice in the river, even a rainy day was to be noted. But of all days of this description, those in which Corsica was visible were the greatest, and the query when friends met on such days always was, ‘Have you seen Corsica this morning?’ It was only in peculiar states of the atmosphere that this distant island became visible, and it happened perhaps six times in the winter. Just before sunrise,—generally from a quarter to half an hour before, if the atmosphere was particularly clear, and especially if frosty,—the sun rising behind Corsica revealed the tops of mountains from 90 to 130 miles off, and from 6000 to 9000 feet high: the vision remained till the sun rose to the horizon, when it disappeared. I was always on the watch on likely mornings, and succeeded in taking a sketch of the view, which, by verifying at each successive appearance, I rendered exact. The engraving opposite is a little more than half that of the original sketch, which was just as seen. Only on one occasion was Corsica visible during the day. This happened in the second winter, on 26th November 1877. I had seen it in the morning, and was incredulous when informed in the forenoon that it was then visible. Seeing was believing, however; for there it was, and it remained in sight the whole day till four o’clock, the sun throughout shining brightly on it instead of behind it, so that this appearance was quite different from what was seen in the morning. I looked upon it as the harbinger of wet weather, and accordingly for some days afterwards we had rain.
By the end of February we began to prepare for leaving Mentone to travel in Italy. During December we had five days, during January two days, and during February three days with more or less rain—eleven days altogether out of ninety. Besides these days, which were also cold, we had as many more days which were cold or stormy without being wet. All the other days, even with the north or east winds blowing, were fine and sunny. There were very few days in which an invalid could not venture out. In fact, more than three-fourths of the weather was fine and sunny, and often as hot as a hot day in July at home. On 27th February, however, we had an eclipse of the moon, which was total. It must, I think, have had a serious effect upon the temperature, for immediately afterwards it became extremely cold; so much so that there was ice for the first time on the river, and it was needful at last to don our winter attire. We had planned to leave upon the 2d March, but the day was such as to necessitate postponing our departure till the morrow. We proceeded by carriage to San Remo.
ITALY.
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