The bathing men will never dip one’s head unless expressly desired to do so, and never propose it—a great mistake. The bathing dress is not at all inconvenient or uncomfortable while in the water, but it is heavy out of it, especially if of woollen material (decidedly the best kind), because it absorbs and retains a great deal of water.
Away from the beach all the walks are on the high roads, which are principally three,—to the railway station, to Bayonne, and to the lighthouse. The distance to the lighthouse by the road is considerably farther than by the beach, from which to the platform on the top of the rocks whereon it stands, access is had by a steep path. From the top of the lighthouse, 220 feet from the level of the sea to the lantern, a most extensive view is had northward up the west coast of France, bordered by the Landes—a low sandy coast, now planted with pine trees to guard against the incursions of the sea—stretching 100 miles towards Bordeaux; and in the other direction along the Spanish coast, bounded by a chain of mountains far as the eye can see; while inland the view extends towards the Pyrenees. A steep path leads from the lighthouse to a small recessed platform half-way down the rock, where in calm weather one can behold the swelling and surging sea below ever and anon dashing against the rocks, and where men repair with long rods and lines to fish. But in stormy weather it is dangerous even to stand on the ground above; people are exposed to be swept away by unexpected rushes of the sea, and many have been drowned there in consequence. The fish caught at this platform, so far as we know, were small. Indeed, at Biarritz there are not many caught, though the table is always supplied from neighbouring fishing stations. Lobsters, however, seem to be plentiful.
The Villa Eugenie, between the lighthouse and the town, is an object of interest to every one visiting Biarritz. It is shown to the public on Mondays. Entrance is had by the west approach, where there is a lodge and large but not elegant stabling accommodation. The grounds are not extensive (about thirty acres in all), but sufficient for a marine residence of the kind; nor do they exhibit much attention to horticulture, though perhaps it is hardly fair to judge of them in present circumstances. The house, of three storeys, commenced in the year 1854, forms three sides of a square, with an annexe (I presume, offices) on the east side. It still belongs to the Empress, who, of course, never occupies it now, and she will not sell or let it. Ringing the bell, an old servant (who expects a small fee from each party for his trouble) opens the door and shows visitors through the house. Our troop consisted of several distinct parties, mustering probably above a dozen persons in all. The rooms are of comfortable size, and compose just what an Empress would consider to be a snuggery. The dining-room is the largest room in the house, the windows facing on one side the west to the town and sea, on another northward to the sea and lighthouse. On a rough guess, and speaking from recollection, it is probably from 40 to 50 feet long and from 20 to 25 feet wide, the ceiling lofty. The reception-room is comparatively small. The bedrooms of the Emperor, Empress, and Prince are just of a comfortable size. There are many small bedrooms, very nicely decorated, for use of the suite or for visitors. The floors are polished, and the staircase is so slippery that people are cautioned to take great care in descending, the steps not being carpeted. It was melancholy to think it was no longer possible for poor Eugenie to occupy this delightful residence.[47] Perhaps it is the only place in France where the Imperial arms remain, and one sees upon it also the touching monogram ƎNE, which reads up or down. The place would to our Queen be objectionable as being so close to a town; but to a French lady this, no doubt, would give it additional attraction, and it must be recollected that Biarritz in reality largely owes its existence to the Empress having built her villa there. For this the French people should be grateful, although it looks a little unlike it, because in the grounds two pillars in front of a small unfinished chapel for the Imperial family use have been much broken. This, however, may merely have been the result of accident.
It is a pleasant drive to Bayonne, which lies about five miles off. Like many other roads in France, such as at Pau, the road proceeds a long way in a straight line, flanked by regimental rows of trees, which, affording shade from the sun, have a peculiarly stiff effect. Here, as elsewhere, too, contrary to the Roman beau-ideal of a road that it should be level, this one, though straight, yields to the inequalities of the ground, and is alternately in hollows and on elevations. But people ought to be thankful the road is so good, for, speaking of a time about forty years ago or more, Dr. Taylor (Climate of Pau) says:—
‘There was no carriage road from Bayonne to Biarritz, the only conveyance being en cacolet, which contrivance consisted of a pair of panniers laid on the back of a horse or mule, into each of which a traveller of equal weight, if possible, had to perch himself at the same instant with his fellow, and to preserve their position as best they could. In the event of one being lighter than the other, there was a make-weight of stones put along with him in the pannier to adjust the equilibrium.’
Judging from the specimens of comfortable Spanish ladies we saw at Biarritz, I should pity the horse or the mule which had to carry two of them.
About half way to Biarritz, a very elegant white stone villa in the Moorish style is passed—the Villa Sophia. There is something very unique in the appearance of this building, which is covered with arabesques, inducing me to go out one day and take a rough sketch of it. On approaching Bayonne, the road lies through a wood—I suppose, a suburban park. Then on entering the town we see a long many-arched stone bridge spanning the Adour,—here very wide,—and beyond it the fortifications, built by Vauban. These may at one time have been considered strong, but at the present day cannot be thought so, and they are overlooked by neighbouring heights. The fort lacks the picturesquely-imposing appearance of stone wall castles. A good deal of historical interest attaches to Bayonne and its fortifications. The town itself is not remarkable for much save its four bridges, crossing very close to each other the river Nive, which here joins the Adour. The cathedral, above seven hundred years old, is large and handsome, and is in course of restoration. The spires (one of them only is completed, the other being in course of completion) are very beautiful, tapering gradually, with spirelets around; but the church is like too many others abroad, rather hemmed in by the houses around.
There are other good drives about Biarritz, and particularly to the Bois de Boulogne and to the old historical maritime town of St. Jean de Luz, about ten miles distant, and not far from the Spanish border. It was here Louis XIV. had a residence and was married. His house, in the French style, with square towers at the four corners, stands now in the centre of the town upon the main street, and in its ground floor is occupied with shops and cafés. St. Jean is also a bathing place, but is not so popular, and is certainly not so attractive, as Biarritz.