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diff --git a/41588-8.txt b/41588-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 32c9a5b..0000000 --- a/41588-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4559 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Europe from a Motor Car, by Russell Richardson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Europe from a Motor Car - -Author: Russell Richardson - -Release Date: December 9, 2012 [EBook #41588] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EUROPE FROM A MOTOR CAR *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Bergquist, Anna Hall and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - EUROPE FROM A MOTOR CAR - - [Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - _The approach to the Stelvio pass_ _Page 36_] - - EUROPE - FROM A - MOTOR CAR - - _By_ - RUSSELL RICHARDSON - - [Illustration] - - - RAND McNALLY & COMPANY - CHICAGO NEW YORK - - _Copyright, 1914_ - BY RAND, MCNALLY & COMPANY - - The Rand-McNally Press - _Chicago_ - - - TO - MY MOTHER - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - _Preface_ 9 - - I Berlin to Marienbad 11 - - II Marienbad to Trafoi 24 - - III Crossing the Stelvio into Italy 36 - - IV A Visit to Lyons 65 - - V Chambéry to Nîmes 79 - - VI Nîmes to Carcassonne 97 - - VII Carcassonne to Tarbes 110 - - VIII Tarbes to Biarritz 122 - - IX A Day in Spain 130 - - X Biarritz to Mont-de-Marsan 143 - - XI Mont-de-Marsan to Périgueux 159 - - XII Périgueux to Tours 172 - - XIII The Châteaux of Touraine 182 - - XIV Orléans to Dieppe 197 - - XV Expenses and Suggestions 215 - - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - -The Approach to the Stelvio Pass 2 - -A French Highway 11 - -The Brandenburger Thor 20 - -Cutting Across the Glacier 34 - -Lake Como, Most Beautiful of the Italian -Lakes 44 - -Italian Villas on Lake Como 48 - -Above the Val d'Aosta 54 - -The Rhone at Lyons 66 - -Out of the Silence and Gloom 80 - -The Ancient Roman Theater at Orange 86 - -Arc de Triomphe at Orange 88 - -The Palace of the Popes at Avignon 90 - -The Ruined Bridge of St. Benezet at -Avignon 92 - -The Maison Carrée at Nîmes 94 - -The Castle and Double Line of Fortifications -at Carcassonne 102 - -The Walled City of Carcassonne 104 - -The Pyrenees Were in Sight 112 - -Ice Peaks of the Pyrenees 116 - -The Grande Plage at Biarritz 126 - -The Ox-carts Were Curious Creations 134 - -The Death Stroke 140 - -A Familiar Village Scene in Provincial -France 156 - -A Miracle of Gothic Splendor 162 - -A Convenient Way to Carry Bread 176 - -The Road Swept Us Along the Bank of -the Loire 180 - -The Château of Loches Behind Its Imposing -Entrance 186 - -The Château of Chenonceaux 190 - -The Château of Amboise on the Loire 194 - -The Wheat Fields of Normandy 198 - -The Gothic Cathedral at Chartres 200 - -The Seine at Rouen 208 - -Where Jeanne d'Arc was Burned at the -Stake 212 - - - - -PREFACE - - -The following pages have not been written to supplement the thousands of -guide books about Europe. Long, technical descriptions have been -avoided. An endeavor has been made, rather, to give our personal -impressions of the Old World from a motor car. Our itinerary overlooked -the larger cities whose contents have been so well inventoried by -Baedeker. The life of the peasantry, the small towns seldom visited by -American tourists, quaint villages unapproached by any railroad, the -superb roads and views of the Tyrol, the crossing of the Alps over the -snow-crowned Stelvio into Italy, the flight through northern Italy to -Como, loveliest of the Italian lakes--such unique experiences amid -beautiful scenery appealed to us more than the attractions of the -crowded metropolis. We were out for a motor ramble instead of a -sight-seeing tour. Our route did not follow entirely the familiar -highways of tourist traffic. From the summit of the Alps we were to see, -far below us, the valleys of picturesque Savoy. Then came the long, -thrilling descent into France through Provençe, that treasure land of -Roman antiquity, through the Pyrenees, lifting their huge barriers -between France and Spain, to Biarritz on the Atlantic. Spain was before -us, the pastoral beauties of Limousin and Périgord, the châteaux of -Touraine, and the cathedrals of Normandy. - -An important part of our equipment was the _Michelin Guide_, which, with -its convenient arrangement and wealth of useful information about hotels -and roads, rendered invaluable aid. Its maps were so clear that it was -seldom necessary to retrace our path. By means of them we planned our -route and found our way through the different countries. - -The writer wishes to thank Michelin & Co. of Paris, and Dr. Lehmann of -the Benz Company in Mannheim, Germany, for their assistance and advice. -The files of the _London Daily Mail_ contributed helpful suggestions. -Obligation is also expressed to Mr. Charles Netcher, whose good judgment -and motormanship were indispensable to the success of the trip. - -RUSSELL RICHARDSON. - - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_A French highway_ _Page 178_] - - - - -EUROPE FROM A MOTOR CAR - - - - -CHAPTER I - -BERLIN TO MARIENBAD - - -Before us was the long stretch of the Potsdamer Strasse bathed in the -sunshine of a July morning. Slowly the speedometer began to devour the -kilometers of the Kaiser's imperial city, and the low music of the siren -seemed like a song of rejoicing that we were at last starting on our -quest of motor experiences along the highways of Europe. The -exhilaration of the moment called for speed, a leaping burst of it, but -a Berlin street is unfortunately no place for speeding. Numerous -helmeted policemen, vigilant guardians of German speed laws, were -sufficient reminders that the way of the motor transgressor would be -paved with heavy fines. - -These policemen looked like soldiers. In Berlin one is always surrounded -by a military atmosphere. The city is the product and the producer of -this martial spirit. The Prussian wars are written so completely in -pages of bronze and marble, one has the impression of being among people -who are on the verge of war and prepared for it. Even as we glided -along, a huge Zeppelin air ship hovered above us, one of those ill-fated -war machines which have so often met destruction. - -A little farther on, there was a stirring sound of military music, and -our way was intercepted by a marching regiment. It was fully ten minutes -before the last soldier passed. Such scenes are common in the capital of -a country bounded on two frontiers by powerful nations, and dependent -for its very existence upon the maintenance of a large standing army. - -Gradually the music grew fainter, the warnings of countless "verbotens" -became less frequent. Soon we were riding through the Prussian country, -pleasantly pastoral and interspersed by red-roofed villages. Everywhere -were barracks and soldiers, and each small community was throbbing with -industrial life. This was prosaic, military, modern Germany; that is, it -might have seemed prosaic had we not seen it from a motor car. There is -a quality of romance about all motoring in Europe. It is fascinating to -appear unexpectedly among a people in the midst of their everyday -activities, to see them as they really are, to flash for a brief moment -upon the horizon of their local life, and then to whirl on to other -scenes. Such a trip is never monotonous. There is magic in this song of -the swift kilometers. - -The tourist, by train or on foot, is overwhelmed by details. He sees -small cross-sections of life. But the motorist, of all travelers, can -see larger outlines. For him a thousand details merge to form a unit -which he can grasp; to paint a picture of clear-cut, dominating -impressions and filled with life-long memories. Even "the best -traveler[1] on foot--Barrow or Stevenson--can enjoy himself, or interest -others, only by his impressions of the insistent details of each trudged -mile. The motorist alone can perform the great deduction of travel. His -privilege is to see the surface of his planet and the activities of his -fellowmen unroll in impressive continuity. He moves along the vital -lines of cause and effect. He sees how the earth has imposed character -and habits upon her inhabitants." - - [1] From "The Alpine Road of France," by Sir Henry Norman, M. P., in - _Scribner's Magazine_ for February, 1914. - -When one has seen Europe from a motor car, the geography of the Old -World ceases to be a mass of hazy facts set off by indefinite -boundaries. We had vaguely thought of the Alps as being in Switzerland. -After crossing them twice, these mountain barriers, extending from -Vienna to the Mediterranean, through Austria, Switzerland, Italy, and -France, were to have a new meaning. Most of us would probably confuse -the old provinces of France with the departments which correspond -roughly to our states. But Normandy, Brittany, and Provençe have no more -geographical significance to-day than "Mason and Dixon's Line," which -once served as a boundary between North and South. Places which had -previously existed for us, in cold print, were to glow with life and -color, and were in turn to tell their romantic story. Now, when we look -at our map of France, we can see "the great central wheat plain; the -broad wine belt; the western _landes_; the eastern pine slopes; the -welter of history in Touraine and Anjou; dear, yellow, dusty, -windswept, singing, dancing, Provençe; the southward climatic procession -of buckwheat, wheat, vine, olive, palm, and orange tree."[2] - - [2] From "The Alpine Road of France," by Sir Henry Norman, M. P., in - _Scribner's Magazine_ for February, 1914. - -Our chronicle of this first day of motoring includes a brief glimpse of -Wittenberg, where Luther burned the Papal Bull and thus kindled the -flame of the Reformation. After Wittenberg came Leipzig, famed as the -home of immortal Baedeker. One cannot ride far in Germany without -encountering a city counting its population by the hundred thousand. -This wealth of population explains in part how Prussia, only a -generation ago so agricultural, could have changed so quickly into a -vast workshop; there has always been a plentiful supply of labor. - -We stopped for the night at Chemnitz, a smoky city and with a dreary -looking hotel showing in prominent letters the unpleasant name of "Hotel -zur Stadt Gotha." The next morning we ran the easy gauntlet of -customhouse formalities at Gottesgab, and crossed the Austrian frontier -into Bohemia, that land of shadows and thorn in the flesh of the -Austrian government where the gay colors of peasant dress hardly conceal -the evidences of poverty and squalid misery, and where hunger appears to -be driving out plenty. It is a country of peasants. There are millions -of them, back in the Middle Ages as to their agricultural methods, -unable to adapt themselves to the harsh, progressive realities of the -present, and careless whether the abundant meal of to-morrow will make -up for the meager repast of to-day. - -If you wish to see real misery, and to understand why the Bohemians -emigrate in such great numbers to the United States, then take a motor -trip through this most discontented and unhappy of all the Austrian -provinces. Here amid picturesque and beautiful scenery one finds the -rural slums of Europe. The small farm hamlets look forlorn and unkempt, -the barnyards disorderly, the towns dirty and neglected, the people as -if they were both the cause and effect of these conditions. It is a -common sight of the road to see women harnessed with dogs or oxen. Here -even wooden shoes would be something of a luxury. - -There is something fascinating about exploring these neglected corners -of Europe in a motor car. The dress of the peasants is gay even though -ragged, their life picturesque even in its poverty. One finds lights as -well as shadows in the picture. Nature has softened the harsh lines of -peasant life with dreamy, misty horizons, with pine-clad hills and -dashing brooks, with pleasant vistas of distant mountains. - -On reaching Carlsbad about noon we found the season of this fashionable -watering place at its height. Crowds of visitors were promenading in the -street, returning from the baths and springs or trying to stimulate -jaded appetites by a few breaths of the fine invigorating air. The place -is really beautiful with its fine setting of Bohemian mountains. - -Friends were expecting us in Marienbad, so we resumed our journey early -in the afternoon. This stretch of forty miles lay through the loveliest -part of Bohemia. Such depths of blue atmosphere melting into the green -of pine forests! - -The forestry system of Bohemia is something to admire and to study. For -generations, governmental inspection has been tireless in its efforts to -improve and develop the forests. There are many large estates which have -their own private foresters; no opportunity for tree planting is -neglected. On the smaller farms, if the soil is not adapted to the -raising of fruits and vegetables, the state tells the farmer what trees -will flourish best in that kind of soil. Thus no acre is wasted. Twice a -year the official inspector decides what trees may be cut. If, during -the year, some farmer wishes lumber, it is the inspector who decides -what trees, if any, may be cut. No sooner has the tree fallen than a -fresh sapling takes its place. The trees are planted in regular rows. -There is no crowding. In such a land, forestry is a distinguished -profession. - -For some distance the valley narrowed almost to a cañon. Then wider -views opened, until from a wooded ridge we saw below us in the valley -the village of Marienbad. Nature was good to her children when she -fashioned this rare resort, lying so white and clean in its green cradle -of high pine-covered hills. - -Much too briefly must we give our impressions of life at a Bohemian -watering place. Every one lives out of doors. The many villas are -generously provided with balconies to catch the sunshine and pine -breezes. Unlike most health resorts, the atmosphere of the sick room is -absent. Few invalids are to be seen. Most of the _Kurgäste_ come here -for the purpose of reducing their weight. Their chief rule of life is to -eat little and exercise much. The numerous tennis courts are constantly -filled. The mountains invite to long walks. There are hot baths, steam -baths, mud baths, and baths that would probably have been new even to -the bath-loving Romans. The gymnasia are elaborately equipped with -exercising apparatus. If one wishes to watch another phase of this -struggle against excessive avoirdupois, he should rise at a dim gray -hour and walk over to the Promenade. People of every nationality crowd -about the mineral springs and then, with their glasses well filled, they -take their places in the cosmopolitan throng which moves slowly up and -down the long Promenade. One hears the confused murmuring of many voices -in many languages, the favorite topics of this linguistic Babel -relating to various ailments and the weight-reducing qualities of -different mineral waters. A less corpulent arrival is looked upon with -envy. Slowly the glasses are emptied, and then again filled. It is -customary to walk up and down for an hour, while drinking two glasses of -mineral water. With each swallow the _Kurgäste_ appear to be imbibing -the hopes of their diminishing avoirdupois. The Germans are in the -majority. They are always desperately conscientious in their endeavor to -meet all the requirements of this simple but exacting life, possibly -because they realize that a long devotion to beer and sandwiches is not -the best means to preserve the youthful figure. Near the Promenade are -weighing shops. A place like Marienbad naturally includes among its -habitués some who could easily qualify for the monstrosity class. We -remember one Egyptian phenomenon of enormous proportions who had to have -his own private scales. - -After the hour at the spring comes a strenuous half-hour climb to a -hilltop restaurant where breakfast is served. How inviting those -repasts in the open air! The coffee is as good as can be found -anywhere in Europe, and the scrambled eggs and _Schinken aus Prague_ are -served by pretty Bohemian waitresses arrayed in all the colors of their -native costumes. At these hilltop restaurants orchestra music is always -an attractive feature of the breakfast. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The Brandenburger -Thor_ _Page 11_] - -One is never sure what distinguished statesmen or prince of royal blood -is sitting near by. While we were breakfasting one morning a gentleman -dressed in an ordinary business suit approached and sat alone at a table -close at hand. We learned later that he was the Prime Minister of -Russia. - -The activities and diversions of the day would be incomplete without a -stroll after dinner down the pleasant Kaiserstrasse. At this evening -hour all the visitors to Marienbad pass in leisurely review. The -Austrian officers, erect and soldierly, make quite a striking -appearance. Our attention was also attracted to the monks of Tepl, with -their long black cloaks and broad-brimmed hats. They are the owners of -Marienbad, and live in a monastery situated a few miles from the -village. About two centuries ago the monks of Tepl began to realize the -commercial possibilities of their springs. Forests were cut away; -streets were laid; marshes blossomed into gardens and green lawns; -splendid buildings were erected for patrons who wished to take the -various baths, and to-day Marienbad is a village of hotels and villas. -Last year there were about forty thousand visitors. The monks whom we -saw looked sleek and well-fed. They lead an easy life, hunting, fishing, -and managing their lucrative property. The monastic vow of poverty has -probably long since ceased to mean much of a hardship. - -This fact of a modern village being controlled by a wealthy religious -organization dating as far back as 1133 is most unique. It is doubtful -if a parallel case can be found anywhere. The town shows in many ways -the influence of its monastic administration. Licensed gambling halls, -which are so prevalent in all of the French watering places, do not -exist here. There is no night life. After ten o'clock in the evening the -streets begin to look deserted. Amusement places of doubtful character -have thus far found no footing in this simple village life. Considering -the thousands of idle and pleasure-loving Europeans who throng every -year to Marienbad, it seems remarkable that the general tone of the -place should have been kept so high. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -MARIENBAD TO TRAFOI - - -Even a congenial environment like that of Marienbad began to lack -interest when we looked at our motor itinerary and saw awaiting us such -rich experiences as climbing above the clouds over the snowbound -Stelvio, or the sight of Carcassonne, tower-girt and formidable behind -feudal walls. The call of the white road was irresistible when it led -through the purple valleys of the Pyrenees to beautiful Biarritz on the -Atlantic and to San Sebastian in Spain, where the Spanish king and queen -hold summer court. The perfect day of blue skies added its persuasive -voice. - -We were again on the road. The villas of Marienbad withdrew behind the -mountains, and we settled down to the complete enjoyment of the ride -through Bohemia and southern Germany to Munich. On either side were -quaint scenes of Bohemian life. Every little farm hamlet had its pond of -geese, with a goose girl tending her flocks. One of them threw us a -flower. Her action meant more to us than she thought; it was a happy -omen for the rest of the trip. Peasant women were toiling barefooted in -the fields, or trudging along the road, bending under heavy burdens of -wood. This human element in the scene was impressive. Here, as -everywhere, the great drama of human life was being played. But the role -of the actors was such a humble and pathetic one, so much of the land -was given over to unfruitful fields, half cleared of stumps! There were -no such pictures of content and prosperity as one finds everywhere in -Germany and Holland. The houses were scarcely more than huts. - -We halted in some of the towns to take a first lesson in the Czeck or -Bohemian dialect. The store signs were mysterious, with their -hieroglyphics. One shop contained sewing machines, and the word -"Singowiski" above the door hinted that this might be the Bohemian -translation of Singer sewing machines. Road signs were not always -visible, and less often intelligible. Then we were obliged to ask the -way. If the source of our information was a town official he usually -spoke in German, otherwise in Bohemian, an answer which did not relieve -us of our uncertainty. - -The German frontier was reached about noon. Our _Triptyque_ received the -customary official stamping at the _Zoll-amt_. To our great relief, no -questions were asked about _Pichner Torte_, a very delicious kind of -cake made only in Austria, and so good that tourists always lay in ample -supplies. Such articles as a rule are heavily taxed at the Austrian -frontier. - -Just at this moment Looloo, our French bull terrier, became sick. The -shock of coming so suddenly into German territory was probably too much -for her sensitive French temperament, but she soon revived after eating -a piece of French dog biscuit. We lunched at a _Gasthaus_ in the small -town of Furth im Walde. The first word on the wall which caught our -attention was "_Ausstellung_." That was enough to make us feel that we -were once more in the Fatherland. The Germans seem to be always holding -or advertising exhibitions and fairs. "_Ausstellung_" and "_Practisch_" -need have no immediate fear of losing their place in the vocabulary of -the average German. There was no doubt of our being in Germany. We -would have known it from the trim, clean farms. Order and thrift were in -evidence, every stick of every wood pile in place--all such a contrast -to Bohemian untidiness. - -Once more in the land of the Kaiser, and motoring through picturesque -Bavaria, slow changing and old-fashioned, the mediæval part of modern -Germany, a region of small towns and peasant farms. We were often -delayed to pay the _Zoll_ of a few _pfennigs_. The impost was not -onerous, but it was inconvenient to stop so often. Frequently a little -girl or small boy would come out to collect our _pfennigs_, and would -hold up flowers for us to purchase. On one occasion we saw an aged -collector of tolls apparently overburdened by official cares, his head -sunk in slumber, and a large beer stein on a table near him. The picture -was so characteristic of the slow-moving life around us! - -Our motor flight through this fascinating region of Germany afforded -opportunity to observe how the different towns had striven for a style -of architecture original and unique. The houses had much warmth of -color, much more than one would see in northern Germany. But then -Bavaria is of course closer to Italy, and to the vivid landscapes, the -bright sunny skies of the southland, and this difference in climate is -naturally reflected in the life of the people. It is not surprising that -the great artists of Germany should have come from the south. - -We remember vividly the town of Straubing, where we stopped to buy -gasoline. In the middle of the street an old-fashioned clock tower rose -above the red-tiled roofs and gabled houses. Many of the homes had -attractive window gardens; red and blue were the prevailing colors. No -one was in a hurry; life moved with a leisurely swing. Baedeker barely -mentions Straubing, but we doubt if Nurnberg or Munich could show a -street more typically south German or better worth the artist's brush. - -At this point should be mentioned the happy discovery of the lunch box -which thoughtful friends had stowed away with the baggage. There had -been so much to attract our attention that we had overlooked it. Our -motor appetites were equal to the occasion; fruit, cakes, and cold -chicken sandwiches received no mercy. It is unnecessary to add that -scenery and sandwiches went well together, especially such scenery and -such sandwiches. - -The landscapes were not more varied than the weather. At times the road -was wet where a shower had just preceded us. All day the sunshine had -brightened and faded. Now we noticed a battalion of dark clouds massing -heavily above us; little by little the blue sky surrendered to the storm -king; the artillery of heaven thundered into action. It was worth a -wetting to see the storm sweep toward us and then fade into the gorgeous -sunset which closed the day. The church spires of Munich were luminous -in the golden light. Swiftly we sped down the long, straight road into -the city. When we stopped before the comfortable Regina Palast Hotel our -speedometer registered one hundred and eighty-five miles, the longest -run of the trip. The country ahead of us was to prove too interesting -for any attempt at long-distance records. - -The evening gave a pleasant glimpse of Bavarian life, of its good cheer -and warm spirit of hospitality, so in contrast with the colder social -customs of the north. The Berliner is reserved, exclusive. When he -enters a café he would like, if possible, a table where he can sit -alone. But Bavarian sociability is all-pervasive. The café where we -passed an hour or so was filled with it. Tyrolean warblers in native -costume occupied the stage fashioned to portray a bit of south German -landscape. Song books were handed us. Every one joined in singing the -rollicking folk songs. Of course the evening would have been incomplete -without a visit to the famous _Brauerei_ and a cooling sample of -_Münchner Brau_. - -After a couple of days in Munich we departed for Landeck, in the -Austrian Tyrol, a ride of one hundred and eighty-two kilometers. For -some distance our course was the same as the route to Ober-Ammergau. -Lunch at a wayside inn included _Gänsebraten_, which can only be -described as "_ausgezeichnet_." Bright Tyrolese landscapes flew by. It -was glorious running, the air buoyant with the breath of the mountains, -which rose in a jagged, majestic profile above little villages where the -houses were painted with queer scenes of peasant life. - -At Garmisch we were in the heart of the Bavarian Tyrol. It was a good -place to stop for a few minutes to watch the people, the women almost -theatrical in the gay colors of their dress, the men equally gorgeous -with their red neckties, green hats and vests, to say nothing of green -leggings which left knee and ankle bare. Every one wore the feather. -Garmisch is not far from the Austrian frontier, so we purchased five -liters of gasoline, this necessary article being much more expensive in -Austria than elsewhere in Europe. Indeed, on reaching the _Zoll-amt_ at -Griesen we found that gasoline had jumped from forty-five or fifty -_pfennigs_ to a _kronen_ a liter, an increase of about eight cents. The -Austrian officials made us pay a duty of ninety _heller_ on the five -liters of gasoline which we carried as reserve. They also enriched the -treasury of their government by a duty of 3.60 _kronen_ on our twelve -liters of oil, and thoughtfully suggested that we purchase five -additional liters of gasoline at the Austrian rates. In view of our -purchase in Garmisch, this invitation was declined. Had we carried a -spare wheel and covers, they would have requested us to remove them and -would have weighed them in an outhouse opposite the _Zoll-amt_. It is -customary to charge duty on tires if the equipment be above a certain -weight. If one carries the average equipment, there is usually no -trouble. - -Just across the frontier a sign post, bearing the word "_Rechtsfahren_," -reminded us of the change in the rule of the road. The scenery grew -wilder. Nowhere in Europe can be found a more perfect country for the -motorist than the Austrian Tyrol, with its splendid roads and -incomparable scenery. Steadily the road circled and climbed. It was the -sunset hour. Shadows were creeping out of deep valleys; a snowy mountain -was turning to a lovely rose color in the crucible of the afterglow. Far -down among the shadows we spied a little lake, still and black under the -overhanging mountains. - -The Post-Hotel in Landeck was surprisingly good. It is located right on -the river Inn, which rushes noisily through the middle of the town. -After an excellent _Abendessen_ we retired early, and were not long in -yielding to the drowsy roar of the waters. - -Breakfast was followed by an animated scene in front of our hotel. Amid -a medley of motor horns, other cars were also departing. As we ascended -beyond Landeck, the road swung with easy grades above the magnificent -gorge of the Hoch Finstermünz pass, where we stopped for a picture. The -ride from this point over the Reschen-scheideck pass was simply -indescribable. In that exhilarating air, one seemed to be flying instead -of motoring. We plunged through rocky tunnels, or hesitated as the road -appeared to leap off into the abyss or the towering rock masses seemed -to sweep forward as if to bar further progress. Then would come a sharp -turn, opening up a new sweep of highway. The road was as good as we -found anywhere on the trip, and wide enough for the motor cars that -occasionally passed us. But accidents could easily have happened at the -curves. Sure brakes and a tireless motor horn are invaluable at these -critical moments. - -It was a pleasant surprise at Reschen to see a cozy villa flying the -American flag, and to discover acquaintances in this secluded corner of -the Old World. We had forgotten that buckwheat cakes could be so good. -Our departure was accompanied with warnings about the difficulties of -the Stelvio, which we were to climb the next day. - -After being shown the picture of this most formidable of mountain roads, -with its serpentine windings, rising mile upon mile, and finally -disappearing above the clouds, we wondered if the car could possibly -ascend such a barrier, and if it would not be better to reach Italy by -some less dangerous route. One motorist had attempted the feat a few -weeks before, and after climbing eight thousand feet was forced to turn -back on account of deep snowdrifts. Mention was also made of a -particularly dangerous curve where there had once been a fatal accident. -These reports were not encouraging, but nevertheless we wanted to make -the attempt. Every one who motors in the Austrian Tyrol has but one -dream, one ambition--to submit his skill and car to the supreme test of -scaling the Stelvio. - -From Reschen the car ran along a pretty lake, then shot down a long -grade to Mals and from there wound along to Neu Spondinig, where we -stopped for a few minutes for tea and to exchange motor experiences -with other travelers, on their way to Landeck over the same route by -which we had come. - -[Illustration: _Cutting across the glacier_ _Page 38_] - -Leaving Neu Spondinig, we turned sharply to the right and into the gloom -of a deep gorge, crossing the bridges of the impetuous Trafoier Bach and -climbing for several kilometers to Trafoi, where a most marvelous view -burst upon us. Until this moment the high walls of the gorge had shut us -in, but now the road suddenly opened into a view so magnificent as to -seem almost unreal. We were directly under the shadow of the Ortler, -with its twelve thousand feet of rock and ice. The glittering whiteness -of the Madatsch glacier formed with its ice floods a veritable _mer de -glace_. The scene was so wild, the impression so overwhelming, that for -some minutes we forgot to order rooms for the night at the fine Trafoi -hotel. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -CROSSING THE STELVIO INTO ITALY - - -It was before seven that we started on the long climb. An early start is -important when the main care is to keep the engine cool. Cloudless skies -favored our attempt. Across the gorge we saw the towering Weiskugel, its -snows turned to radiant silver while the valley was still in shadow. The -Ortler was transfigured, the Madatsch dazzling--almost blinding until -our eyes had grown wonted to the brilliant spectacle. Slowly the long -grades sank behind us. It seemed better to set a steady, even though -slow pace, and maintain it until the summit was reached. So we were -forced to use second speed. The sides of the engine bonnet had been tied -back to give the engine every possible bit of cool air. From "hairpin" -to "hairpin" we went, these curves so sharp that at first it seemed -impossible to make them without backing. How they twisted above us like -the loops of a gigantic lasso flung far up the mountain, into the region -of eternal snow! Imagine it! Forty-six of them! Only on one turn were -we forced to back, but with a large, powerful car this record would have -been impossible. Any car that cannot turn easily in a fifty-foot circle -would better find some other way of reaching Italy. It is not pleasant -to back up when the edge of the precipice is a matter of inches. - -When the Austrians built this road, a century ago, they were not -thinking about motor cars. This masterpiece of road construction was -intended for armies, not for automobiles. The makers of those curves, -cut through heights of solid rock, never anticipated the luxurious modes -of modern travel. If then they had only foreseen the coming of motor -warfare, how much inconvenience would have been spared the impetuous -motorist who to-day attempts to climb the Stelvio in a long, powerful -car which cannot quite make the turns without backing. Surely, a few -feet would have been added to those tantalizing, agonizing curves. How -little the Austrians realized that their military invasion would be -followed by the more peaceful motor invasion of our day. - -With every turn, our admiration for this perfect road increased. One -marvels at such matchless feats of engineering, at such gigantic -obstacles so completely overcome. Here, high retaining walls have been -built to keep the road from crumbling away; there, mountain torrents -that would have washed it away have been diverted. Turn after turn, and -still higher to go! Pine woods gave way to stunted shrubbery, and then -vegetation ceased altogether. We were above the clouds. Nothing but the -sun above us. Snow banks appeared on either side; we could put out our -hands and touch them. Then through Franzenshöhe, formerly the seat of -the Austrian customhouse, to Ferdinandshöhe and the summit of Stelvio, -9,041 feet above the sea, the highest point of motor or carriage travel -in Europe. - -It is impossible to describe the thrill, the intoxication, of the moment -as we stood there watching the ice fields roll away in great waves, as -if the ocean, in a moment of wild upheaval, had been frozen. Leaving the -car near the little Ferdinandshöhe hotel, we climbed an elevation of one -hundred and fifty feet to the Hotel Dreisprachenspitze, where one -stands at the apex of three countries. We could look down into Italy. -The ice floods of Switzerland swept to the horizon; a hundred snow peaks -flashed in the morning sun. In the other direction yawned the mighty -gorge of the Stelvio, where it had taken us two hours and seven minutes -to make eight miles. The wind was of razor keenness. - -On descending to arrange customhouse details with the Austrian -officials, we found the car frozen in the ice. The hot steel-studded -tires had melted a deep groove, and were now held fast in the prison of -their own making. Even on the Stelvio we had not expected to be frozen -fast on the first of August. In vain we opened wide the throttle. The -wheels turned furiously without gaining an inch. Austrian soldiers came -to our rescue. Half a dozen of us pushed from behind. Two American -tourists who had just climbed the Stelvio from the Italian side in a -Cadillac, also gave generous aid. With the additional help of pickaxes -and quantities of sawdust, the car finally shook off its icy fetters. - -Meanwhile we had succeeded in snapping some kodak pictures without -attracting the notice of the Austrian officers. The Stelvio is a -military road, various forts are in the neighborhood, and the government -regulations forbid the taking of photographs. In securing these pictures -we ran the risk of heavier penalties than the confiscation of the camera -and films. - -Fortune did not smile so cheerfully at the Italian _dogana_, two miles -farther down. Hardly had we touched the kodak when Italian soldiers and -customhouse officers rushed toward us. We were not sure whether we would -be shot on the spot or simply left to languish in an Italian prison. One -of the officers seized the camera, tied a red string around it, and -sealed it. Observing that our ignorance of military regulations was -fully equal to our ignorance of Italian, he instructed us in French not -to open the camera until we were beyond Tirano, seventy miles away, the -frontier town of the military zone. - -During the ascent the engine bore the chief strain. It had worked -heroically without once faltering. Now, upon the long down grades of -the Italian slope, we were forced to rely upon the brakes. The road -descended with a continuous and fairly steep gradient for almost -fourteen miles. It was dangerous, difficult work. We not only had to -make the turns, which were just as sharp as on the Austrian side, but it -was necessary to watch the straining brakes, releasing them when the -grade permitted and alternating the emergency brake with compression. -This was a feat demanding all the qualities of motormanship. Coolness -and good judgment were indispensable at every curve of the descent. The -road turned icy corners and edged along precipitous cliffs. If the -brakes had refused to work, it would have been fatal; the downward -plunge of the car would have been beyond control in a few seconds. But -at that moment we were not thinking of danger. The thrill of the -descent, the feeling of flying down from a great height, the ice peaks -that rose higher above us, the stupendous chasm that at every curve -opened newer and more savage depths--these were all a part of our -exhilarating experience. - -We were coasting much of the time; gasoline and ignition had been cut -off. Rocky walls hurled back the blast of our motor horn as we entered -the slippery winter galleries of the Diroccamento defile. According to -law, no vehicle may enter a tunnel if it is occupied. Farther down, the -road looped like the coils of a great serpent, twisting, disappearing, -only to reappear farther down as a faint streak of shimmering roadway. -It was curious, that sensation of falling, always sinking lower and yet -never reaching the bottom. One more sweep through the Braulio Valley, -and we stopped for lunch before the luxurious hotel Bagni-Nuovi, that -popular watering place for the leisure rich of Italy. - -Our first repast upon Italian soil very fittingly included macaroni and -a generous _bottiglia di vino italiano_. After lunch we went into the -terraced garden, fragrant with orange trees, overlooking dreamy Bormio, -the gateway of Italy. The warm sunshine was delightful after having so -recently faced the icy winds of the Stelvio. - -Here we joined an American party from Detroit, Mr. and Mrs. ----, who -were chaperoning two attractive American girls on a motor trip through -Italy and the Tyrol. They had rented an Italian car in Rome, but had not -found the investment altogether satisfactory, the usual story of rented -cars in Europe. These chance meetings with other Americans _en route_ -were among the pleasantest features of our trip. We would gladly have -prolonged the visit, had it not been necessary to leave early in the -afternoon if we were to reach Menaggio on Lake Como before dark. - -After descending into Bormio, one motors for some distance between high, -vine-clad slopes, and then passes through two or three villages, -typically Italian with their dilapidated churches and narrow, cobbled -streets swarming with dirty children, many of whom took a special -delight in darting across our track just as we were passing. - -Northern Italy is wonderfully picturesque. The long defile of S. Antonio -Morignone, the antiquated towns, the slender _campaniles_ standing out -so clearly in the misty, dreamy landscape, the plains of Lombardy with -their scenes of peasant life,--these were all interesting details to be -duly jotted down in the notebook of memory. - -It was haying time. The farming methods seemed so primitive; everything -was hand work. We did not see a single labor-saving machine. The -International Harvester Company would not have done a profitable -business here. The hayricks were very small, and even these were often -lacking, for barefooted women staggered under large bundles of hay. Yet -these backward farmers make stalwart soldiers. Sturdy and frugal, they -are, as in France, the backbone and hope of the nation. Europe -recognizes the fine horsemanship of the Italian cavalry. The -"Corazzieri," or royal bodyguard, is a magnificent corps. It is -difficult to believe that most of these men are peasants. - -There was no need of a compass to learn that we were going west, for the -afternoon sun shone full in our faces. This steady glare, and the -dazzling reflection from the white, dusty road, became almost -unbearable. It was constantly necessary to shield the eyes. There was no -winding or turning. Often we overtook a hayrick occupying most of the -highway. The driver was usually invisible in the soft depths of the -hay, and so drowsy from the sun or liberal drafts of _chianti_ that -persistent blasts of the motor horn were necessary to attract his -attention. Tresenda was passed, and then Sondrio, the capital of the -fertile Val Tellina, noted for its wines. - -[Illustration: _Lake Como, most beautiful of the Italian lakes_ _Page -45_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -The sun was a glowing disk upon the horizon when we reached Colico upon -Lake Como, most beautiful of the Italian lakes. There was a crimson -light on the water. Red sails drifted lazily toward the shore. Across -the lake the high mountains rose cone-like to a peak, like extinct -volcanoes. From a distant bell tower floated the clear, sweet tones of -the angelus. Before some of the houses, young Italians were playing -melodies on guitars. Twilight was falling, that wonderful twilight so -full of color and feeling, of the romance and sentiment of northern -Italy. After several miles along the shore, through these fascinating -scenes, we reached Menaggio. - -The evening in the cool lake garden of the Grand Hotel was a refreshing -sequel to the afternoon's hot ride. We could see the government -searchlight sweeping its bright rays in search of smugglers. The -Italian lakes are partly in Italy and partly in Switzerland. Salt and -tobacco are state monopolies in Italy. The poor people are forbidden -even to pick up from the docks the few grains of salt which may have -fallen during the loading and unloading of ships. Guards patrol the -beaches to compel those who use the sea for a washtub, thoroughly to -wring the salt water from the clothes. In spite of all the government's -precautions, large quantities of salt and tobacco are smuggled in from -Switzerland over the Italian lakes. The Italian officials are poorly -paid. The operator of the searchlight which we saw received only eight -dollars a month. The small salaries breed bribery and corruption, and it -often happens, therefore, that on a dark night the government -searchlight fails to discover a rowboat that goes out from the Swiss -shore. The smugglers escape the vigilance of the swift revenue cutters, -and make a successful landing on the Italian side. - -The next day was so hot that it seemed best to pass the time quietly at -Menaggio, in our restful retreat. The rooms were large and airy, and -open to the fresh lake breezes. The hotel had once been a villa, and -with its private garden of thick plane trees was just such a spot as the -dusty motorist delights to stumble upon after a long ride over the hot -Italian roads. - -Our gasoline was running low, so noticing a sign with the words -_Benzino-Lubrificanti_, we entered. The _commercianti_ spoke as much -English as we spoke Italian. We compromised on gestures. In Italy it is -a safe rule to pay about half the price asked. After half an hour of -bargaining we obtained five liters of gasoline for forty-five -_centesimi_ a liter. The price demanded at first was ninety-five -_centesimi_. Our change included a couple of five-lira notes so dirty, -greasy, and mangled that they looked in the last stages of the plague. -We would have felt safer to have handled them with tongs. Within a few -days we had received _kronen_, _heller_, _marks_, _pfennigs_, _lira_, -_centesimi_. It was quite an education in the currency systems of -Europe. - -On the way back to the hotel we entered the cathedral. To find so -imposing an edifice amid so much poverty was a surprise. Equally -astonishing was the way the steep hills behind the town were terraced -and cultivated, as though the very rocks themselves had been made to -blossom and bear fruit. An Italian woman across the street was filling -her jug at a fountain. The nozzle, crumpled into a trefoil, was of the -same style as that used by the Roman matrons twenty-five centuries ago. -Little things like this show how slowly time has marched in these lake -towns of northern Italy. - -The cool fragrance of early morning filled the air when we waved _addio_ -to our _padrone_ and followed the curves of the shore toward Como at the -end of the lake. There is much in favor of an early start before the -heat begins to quiver above the road and the air to resemble a -continuous cloud of dust. Every foot of the way was interesting. There -were bright-colored villas half smothered in vines; crumbling bell towers -flung their shadows across our path; dizzy cliffs hung above us; the -lake was constantly within view. - -At one of the turns a bicycle rider shot by. We missed him by an -inch. He was followed by many others, scattered over the distance of a -mile. They were all riding recklessly, rounding the corners at top speed -and with heads bent low over the handle bars. Different numbers were -pinned on their backs. This was evidently a long-distance bicycle race. -It was nerve racking to meet so many curves and not to know whether the -riders would pass us on the right or on the left. There is no fixed rule -of the road in Italy. In towns having a tram, one turns to the left. -Southern Italy is still more confusing, since each town has its own -rule. In Como we motored down two or three streets before finally -discovering, after many inquiries, the road running northward to Aosta -in the Italian Alps. - -[Illustration: _Italian villas on Lake Como_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -We regretted our last glimpse of the lake. Instead of hazy mountains, -blue sparkling waters, red sails, and pretty villas, the scenery changed -to flat, uninteresting country. Novara was reached by noon, its streets -baking in the fierce August sun. At the Hotel Italia the flies covered -table and dishes. The ménu card presented difficulties; it was written -in a very illegible Italian. We guessed at most of the courses, but -macaroni was the only dish of which we were sure. But our plight was not -quite so discouraging as that of another motorist who found that for -three of his courses he had ordered eggs cooked in three different ways. -The early afternoon was so hot that we had thought of taking a siesta, -but soon gave up the idea. There were too many flies. The inmates of the -garage were all fast asleep, and the two blinking men whom we aroused -could not conceal their surprise at our unseasonable departure. - -Once out in the country, the dust invaded and pervaded everything. It -was real Italian dust, that sifted into us and all but blinded us. The -heat was terrific. For fear of bursting a tire, we halted in a drowsy -village to let the car cool off under a shady chestnut tree. As if by -magic, a score of dirty, ragged Italian children surrounded us, and -begged for _centesimi_. We threw them a few coppers, but this vision of -riches only served to redouble the clamor. Flight seemed the only price -of tranquillity. - -A little way outside the village, a cloud rolled swiftly toward us. The -motor car did not appear to be much more than a cloud when it passed us, -so thick was the dust. If there is anything hotter or dustier than an -Italian highway on the third of August, we do not wish to see it. The -drivers of most of the small carts were curled up, content to let the -patient mule take its own pace, provided their siesta was undisturbed. -The shrill call of our horn often caused them to move a little; there -would be a slight twitching of the reins, and then they would relax -again into slumber. The mule never changed its course. - -Beyond Ivrea the country became more rolling and broken, and the Alps, -which an hour before had appeared as blue, shadowy cloud masses, now -lifted bold, distinct outlines. This contrast in scenery was as abrupt -as it was impressive. Perhaps it was a ruined castle perched like an -eagle's nest amid high crags. Within the same view, the eye beheld the -vineyards, not planted in the usual manner of row above row, but arbor -above arbor, supported by white stone pillars, and these arbors rising -to the very summit of lofty hills. - -The road which had been winding and rising above the magnificent valley -of Aosta now ran into a level stretch. We had opened wide the throttle, -when all at once a motor car flashed around a curve two hundred yards -ahead of us. An officer in the back seat waved to attract our attention, -and kept pointing back to the curve. The warning was just in time, for -as we waited within the shadow of the bend, another motor car shot at -racing speed around the curve. She was a French racer. There had been no -warning shriek of her horns; the road was so narrow at this point that a -collision could hardly have been avoided without that precious second of -warning. - -Every year in Europe reckless driving causes more accidents than all the -steep roads of the Alps. This is the chief danger of motoring on the -Continent. The roads are so good that there is the constant temptation -to disregard the still small voice of prudence. - -The old Roman town of Aosta was in sight. This "Rome of the Alps" is a -perfect treasure house of antiquities. Passing under ancient Roman -arches, we rode down the quaint main streets to the Hotel Royal -Victoria, situated, according to our _Michelin Guide_, "_près de la -gare_." The hotel, although small, was clean. This fact of cleanliness -speaks much for any hotel located in a small Italian town. - -Our morning promenade revealed much that was interesting. The middle of -some of the streets was traversed by a mountain stream, the above-ground -sewage system of Aosta. It was curious to notice how a part of the -ancient Roman theater had become the supporting wall of a crowded -tenement house. Aosta remains to-day almost undiscovered to the American -tourist world. Yet there are few places where antiquity speaks more -vividly. The market place was a scene of activity. This is the starting -point for the crossing of the Petit St. Bernard pass. Here tourists were -climbing into large excursion automobiles, and German mountain climbers -were setting out, well equipped with long, iron-pointed poles, ice -picks, ropes, and heavy spiked shoes for their battle with snow and -ice. - -It was ideal weather for our second conquest of the Alps over the Petit -St. Bernard, which is closed eight months out of the year. While very -dangerous in places, the pass is free from the restrictions which the -motorist finds on the Simplon. There, one has to give notice in writing -of intention to cross. It is also necessary to pay five francs for a -permit. The speed limit of six miles an hour is rigidly enforced. -Nevertheless, as one experienced motorist told us, if the Simplon pass -compels a speed of six miles an hour on the straight course, and one and -three-fourths miles at the curves, the Petit St. Bernard ought to have a -special speed-limit of three miles an hour on the straight and two -guards at every corner. Except the Stelvio, there is probably not a more -difficult mountain pass in Europe. - -We left Aosta to its memories of Roman days, threaded for some distance -the tortuous windings of the Val d'Aosta, and crossed the Pont de la -Salle above a high gorge. Near the ancient village of Pré St. Didier a -rocky tunnel buried us temporarily from the outer world. Here the ascent -began, and continued for some miles to La Thuile, the Italian -_dogana_. As we climbed out of the valley the panorama included a -sublime view of Mont Blanc, highest of the Alps. - -[Illustration: _Above the Val d'Aosta_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -At La Thuile, two Frenchmen, about to make the ascent on motor cycles, -cautioned us about the dangers of the climb. The customhouse officials -were unusually affable, and were delighted to be included in a group -picture. Then the long climb of six miles to the summit began to reveal -dangers and difficulties. One sharp curve followed another. We soon -overtook the French motor cyclists. They were walking, having found the -ascent too steep. It was thrilling to be able to look down into the -sunshine and fertility of Italy and then to observe the barren world of -rock and snow into which we had risen. The engine proved equal to the -severe test. We used the same tactics which were so successful on the -Stelvio, keeping the same pace until the summit was gained, where we let -the car rest near the world-famous Hospice du Petit St. Bernard. Other -cars had halted in succession, having made the ascent from the French -side _en tour_ to Italy. - -There was missing one interesting personality who had greeted visitors -to the _hospice_ in other years, the Abbé Chanoux, for fifty years -rector of the _hospice_ and the last patriarch of that legendary region -of the Alps. The _hospices_ of the Grand St. Bernard, and of the Simplon -in Swiss territory, are managed by priests, but the Abbé Chanoux reigned -alone in his mountain hospital, assisted by a few helpers and by his -dogs. For half a century it was always a joy, when he saw some traveler -less hurried than the others, to offer him a glass of _muscat_ in his -workshop and then, after having shown his garden of Alpine plants, to -point out the shortest road to La Thuile. To-day the tourist can see the -Alpine garden and the grave where, at the age of eighty-one years, Abbé -Chanoux was buried. The resting place is where he wished it to be, in -view of Italy, France, Mont Blanc, and his beloved _hospice_. - -Just beyond the _hospice_ is a Roman column of rough marble bearing the -statue of St. Bernard. One also sees, close by, a circle of large stones -marking the spot where Hannibal is supposed to have held a council of -war. A simple slab by the roadside designates the boundary line between -Italy and France. As if to emphasize the fact that we were in France, a -group of French soldiers were on duty close to the frontier. The cuisine -of the restaurant Belvedere, with its attractive _carte du jour_, took -us into the real atmosphere of the country. - -The descent of nearly eighteen miles from the summit to the French -_douane_ at Séez, was like passing from mid-winter to mid-summer. What a -superb stretch of motoring it was! The panorama, one of those marvelous -masterpieces which nature rarely spreads before the eyes even of -fortunate motorists! From our point of observation, on a level with the -ice peaks, we could look for miles down into the plains of Savoy. Mont -Blanc glistened like burnished silver. We could trace the mountain -streams from their cradle in the glacier to their wild leaping from -cascade to cascade and to the more peaceful flow through the valley. -Pine forests mantled the lower part of the mountain. - -Ignition was cut off, and the car left to her own momentum. The grades -were much steeper than on the Italian slope, and the curves without -railing or protection of any kind. The slightest carelessness in -steering would have been fatal. Flowers and grass began to cover the -meadows. Pine forests surrounded us. Then we entered on the long, sharp -descent to Séez, stopping at the _douane_ where the French officials -came out to receive us. - -The following incident will sound almost too incredible even to be -included in a story of motor experiences. There was a small duty to be -paid on the gasoline which we were carrying. Our wealth consisted of -American express checks, a few Italian coins, and some French change, -insufficient by twenty _centimes_ to pay the duty. One of the officials -advanced the twenty _centimes_ from his own pocket, thus saving us the -inconvenience of trying to cash the express checks somewhere in the -town. We wished to "snap" his picture, but his modesty was too great. He -also refused the Italian coins which we tried to press upon him as a -souvenir of the occasion. One associates customhouse officials with so -many things that are unpleasant, that the incident naturally made a -great impression on us. - -Our difficulties were by no means over. The winding road with its sharp -grades required the greatest caution. Near the Pont St. Martin it -appeared to run straight over a precipice, and then turned sharply to -the right. This was the place where only a few weeks later an American -party suffered a terrible accident. Their machine swerved while making -the slippery turn, and fell nearly seventy feet among the rocks. - -For a distance of seventeen miles from Bourg St. Maurice to Mouthiers -the road was in an appalling condition, any speed over ten miles an hour -being at the risk of breaking the springs. A railroad was being -constructed, and the heavy teams had raised havoc. We were creeping -through this traffic, when the sudden halt of the wagon in front -compelled us to stop. Two big teams, drawing stone, closed in on either -side. The drivers, intent only on looking ahead, did not notice that -their heavy wheels were in danger of smashing the car. We finally -attracted their attention, but barely in time to avoid trouble. From -Albertville our course was over the splendid Nationale, which runs from -Paris to Italy. - -It is always a pleasant experience to motor on these famous highways, to -observe the governmental system of tree planting, and to study what -trees have been found most suitable in certain regions to protect the -road and the traveler. The ornamental horse chestnut and maple greeted -us most often in the small towns of eastern and northern France. Long -rows of plane trees formed one of the familiar and beautiful sights of -Provençe. We often saw these trees fringing the fields to give shelter -and protection from the blasts of the mistral. It was also interesting -to notice how fruit trees have in many places replaced forest trees -along the road. These national highways, so much improved by Napoleon, -were for us like open books for the study of the French trees. - -It has been well noted that "while the state has the right to plant -along the national roads, at any distance it pleases from the adjoining -property, it exercises this right with judicious moderation and leaves, -as a rule, two meters--six and one-half feet--between the trees and the -outside edge of the roadway. - -"Tree planting is let in small contracts, sometimes as low as five -thousand francs apiece. The object of this is to promote competition and -to attract specialists, such as gardeners and nurserymen, who are hardly -likely to have the means for undertaking large contracts. - -"Government inspectors see that the contractor plants well-formed trees, -free from disease and in every way first class. - -"As the best planting season is short, a fine is imposed for every day's -delay. When the contractor gets his pay, a certain sum is retained as a -guarantee; and for two years he is responsible for the care of the trees -and for the replacing of any that died or that proved defective. The sum -held back until the final acceptance of his work, protects the -government from danger of loss."[3] - - [3] From "French Roads and their Trees," by J. J. Conway, in _Munsey's - Magazine_ for October, 1913. - -There was no hurry about reaching Chambéry, our headquarters for the -night. The distance of a few miles could easily be covered before dark, -so we halted for a little while by the roadside. The car was in -remarkably good condition after the tremendous strain of the day's ride. -Dimly, in the distance, towered the snow-clad heights where we had been -motoring only a short time before. By thus tarrying a while we enjoyed -dazzling retrospect, present beauty, and alluring prospect. - -A big Peugot tore by. These wide, smooth highways of crushed stone -invite speed. There is a speed limit of eighteen miles in the open -country, but it has long been a dead letter. The French system is to -allow the motorist to choose his own pace, but to make him fully -responsible for accidents. By thus heavily penalizing careless driving, -the law works to develop the driver's discretion and does not impose -farcical speed limits. This absence of burdensome regulations eliminates -an endless amount of friction, and is one of many conditions in France -which have contributed to the pleasure and comfort of foreign -motorists. - -Now we were in Savoy, celebrated for its mountain scenery, its lakes, -and curious peasant villages. There was a home feeling in our return to -this beautiful French province, for we had motored here a previous -summer. Many a delightful motor ramble was associated with the names of -Chamonix, at the foot of Mont Blanc; Evian-les-Bains, on Lake Geneva; -Annecy, on the lake of the same name, that quaint city which so charmed -the Prince of Wales, a few years ago, with its arcaded, winding streets -and old-world charm; Aix-les-Bains, the noted and popular watering -place; and there, only a few miles away, Chambéry, historic city of the -dukes of Savoy and of the kings of Italy. It was fine to see that same -blue atmosphere about us again, and, above all, to think that for weeks -our motor wanderings were to be in France, the one country on the -continent of Europe where an American can feel most at home, and where -the motorist can find, amid diversity of scenery, a provincial life -charming alike for its hospitality and old-fashioned customs. Riding -through the twilight to Chambéry, we hunted up the Hôtel de France. -This hotel could hardly have been described as luxurious, but it was -comfortable, as are most of the hotels in the provinces. - -The chief interest of Chambéry centers about the Rue des Arcades. At one -end of the arcaded street is the curious Fontaine des Elephants. This -monument, on four bronze elephants, is dedicated "to the Comte de -Boigne, who settled here after his romantic life of soldiering in India -and bestowed much of the fruit of the pagoda-tree upon the town." At the -other end of the street are the high, massive walls which protect the -château where the dukes of Savoy lived and where some of the kings of -Italy were born. There is little enough to recall the glamour and -glitter of those proud days. The city, with its more prosaic emblems of -civil and military authority, now occupies the château. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A VISIT TO LYONS - - -At Chambéry we interrupted our trip through southern France to visit -Lyons, the center of the silk industry not only for France but for the -entire world. For once, we traveled by train. There is an element of -strain about mountain motoring which is as severe upon driver as upon -car. A diversion is not only welcome but almost necessary to the -motorist who has twice guided his car over the Alps within the short -space of a few days. The exhilaration of looking down into France or -Italy from the summit of the Alps does not lessen the dangers of the -long descent, where for considerable stretches every foot of the way is -crowded with possibilities of accident. - -Lyons, while usually overlooked by the vast army of summer tourists, -holds, in many respects, a unique place among the world's great cities. -We would speak of its magnificent location upon two rivers, the rapid -Rhone and the sluggish Saône; of the twenty-seven bridges that cross -them; of the many miles of tree-lined quays, which hold back the spring -floods and offer a lovely promenade to the people. No one who has seen -Lyons will forget how the houses rise in picturesque confusion, tier -piled above tier, to the heights of Fauvière, where some of the Roman -emperors lived centuries ago, and where, on the site of the old Roman -forum, stands a beautiful church, overlooking the city and embracing one -of the views of Europe of which one never tires. On a clear day the Alps -are visible, and the snows of Mont Blanc, and just outside the city one -can see the two rivers uniting in their sweep to the Mediterranean. - -Lyons is a military stronghold. Its prominence as a manufacturing and -railroad center indicates, of course, its great strategic importance. -Seventeen forts guard the hills around the city. The army is much in -evidence. This constant coming and going of the French soldiers gives -much color and animation to the street scenes. Everyone is impressed by -the cuirassiers. They are powerfully built and look so effective, like -real soldiers who could uphold the traditions of Napoleon's time, and -who would feel much more at home on the battle field than at an -afternoon tea. We saw the Zouaves, in their huge, baggy red _pantalons_ -and with their faces tanned by exposure to the tropical sun of Algeria. -Their red caps reminded us of the Turkish fez. - -[Illustration: _The Rhone at Lyons_ _Page 65_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -The Place des Terraux, peaceful enough to-day with its busy shops and -clouds of white doves, witnessed many a tragic spectacle of the French -Revolution. The guillotine stood in the center of the square. Lyons, -always royalist in its sympathies, was one of the first cities to raise -the standard of revolt against the excesses of the revolutionists in -Paris. The consequences of this act were fatal and terrible. The Reign -of Terror in Paris was surpassed by the more gruesome reign of terror in -Lyons. An army was sent against the city, which was finally captured, -after a desperate resistance. "Then the convention resolved to inflict -an unheard-of punishment; it ordered the destruction of a part of the -city and the erection on the ruins of a pillar, with the inscription, -'Lyons waged war with liberty; Lyons is no more.'"[4] - - [4] _Political History of Modern Europe_, by Ferdinand Schwill, Ph.D. - -The city was "the scene of perhaps the greatest cruelty of the -Revolution, when women who had begged for mercy to their dear ones, were -tied to the foot of the guillotine and compelled to witness hours of -butchery."[5] It was soon found that the guillotine did not work fast -enough. The defect was quickly remedied. Hundreds of captives were taken -outside the city, where the guns of the revolutionists continued the -slaughter on a larger and more satisfactory scale. - - [5] From "The Alpine Road of France," by Sir Henry Norman, M. P., in - _Scribner's Magazine_, February, 1914. - -Possibly the most interesting fact about modern Lyons is its industrial -prominence. Baedeker tells us that the city exports annually over one -hundred million dollars' worth of silk. Its life seems to be founded -upon this one industry. The rich Lyonnais are silk manufacturers. The -museum of silks is the finest thing of its kind in Europe. In the old -part of the city is the statue of Jacquard, the inventor of the silk -loom. As we walked through the narrow streets, there could be heard the -sharp clicking of the shuttles, a sign that the weavers were busy at -their looms. We were shown the "conditioning house," where the imported -raw silk is tested and subjected to a high temperature. This is the -first important step in the manufacture of silk, which in the raw state -absorbs moisture readily. But by exposing the silk to heat at a -temperature of seventy-two to seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit, the -water evaporates and the weight of the silk may then be ascertained. To -prevent fraud it is then marked by a sworn valuer. France raises very -little raw silk, most of it being imported from Japan and China. Out of -a population of nearly half a million, nearly a third is directly -engaged in the production of silk, and the workers in the surrounding -districts would probably number as many more. For a distance of thirty -miles, outside of Lyons, the country is dotted with little houses, each -containing one or more looms. The prosperity of few large cities is more -clearly the result of a single industry. - -Americans are especially interested in Lyons for its connection with the -starting of silk manufacturing in the United States. A short time ago -we were shown a letter written in 1863 by an American living in Lyons. -He refers to the excitement created in this district by the rumor that -weavers were being engaged with a view to establishing silk -manufacturing in the United States on a very extensive scale, and that -several companies had been formed and had sent out agents to purchase in -Lyons all the machinery and looms used in the manufacture of silk. The -writer doubted if the conditions in the United States would make -possible the success of the venture. In spite of this prediction, the -industry developed rapidly, so that to-day nine hundred American -manufacturers have a combined annual output valued at over two hundred -million dollars. At the time of the assassination of Lincoln the United -States government received a silk flag from the weavers of Lyons -dedicated to the people of the United States in memory of Abraham -Lincoln. The flag was of the finest fabric and was inscribed: "Popular -subscription to the Republic of the United States, in memory of Abraham -Lincoln. Lyons, 1865." - -But while the United States is making more silk than France, Lyons -remains the real center and heart of the industry. American high-power -looms are mostly engaged in turning out, by the mile, a cheaper kind of -silk, and largely confined to standard grades in most common use. The -thread is much coarser. After having lived in Lyons it is possible to -understand why this city continues to be the center of the silk -industry, even when we consider that this is a mechanical age, and that -the inventions of one nation spread quickly to competing nations. -American manufacturers are using the Jacquard loom, a Lyonnais -invention. The first American looms were imported from Lyons, but one -thing which was not bought and imported with the loom, was that aptitude -for handling it which is inborn in the Lyonnais. Machinery has its -limitations, and back of the machine is the question of efficient labor. -The trained hand of the workman is needed at every turn. The looms of -Lyons are famous for their light, soft, brilliant tissues. The silk -thread woven into many of these beautiful products is so fine that two -and one-half million feet of it would weigh only two and one-fifth -pounds. - -It is an experience to see the weavers at their work, and to watch the -sure, skillful way in which they weave the thousands of delicate threads -into harmonies of color. Their skill is the heritage that has come down -from father to son. These workmen have a start of many centuries over -their American competitors. Their ancestors were weaving silk before -America was discovered, the industry being started in Lyons in 1450 by -Italian refugees. Traditions count for a great deal in the silk -industry, and from the moment when Lyonnais weavers gained the Grand -Prix from their Venetian rivals, under Louis XIV, in the latter half of -the seventeenth century, their looms were busy making costly robes and -rare tapestries for the royalty of Europe. In the museum at Lyons is a -robe worn by the famous Catherine II of Russia. One is shown tapestries -that adorned the apartments of Marie Antoinette in the Tuileries at -Paris, and the throne room of Napoleon I in the palace at Versailles. -Money could not buy these precious souvenirs of the Lyonnais looms. Many -of the gorgeous robes worn at the coronation ceremony of George V were -made in Lyons. To-day, as in the past, to make these rich silks and -brocades that France is exporting, there is needed not only the skill of -the worker, but the soul of the artist. This artistic French temperament -is the important and deciding factor that makes Lyons the center of the -silk industry. There has been the attempt to create in the United States -a style which would be distinctly American. It failed. The German -emperor also encouraged efforts to create a style which would be -typically German. The result was the same. The atmosphere in these -countries is too commercial and mechanical for artistic vitality. In -such an environment it is said that the French weavers who are employed -in American silk factories become less effective, and lose much of their -artistic originality. The industrial pace is too fast. The cost of labor -in the United States is so great that the emphasis has to be placed on -speed and quantity in order to cover the cost of production. But in -Lyons, with a cheaper labor cost, the organization of hand and power -looms is so perfect that a manufacturer is able to fill large orders -readily. - -A superior loom organization, combined with a temperament naturally -artistic and creative, explains the advantage of the Lyonnais -manufacturer over his American rival, and why it is that American buyers -for our large department stores come to Lyons twice a year to select -designs and place orders with the Lyonnais manufacturers. Department -stores which cater to the wealthiest class of trade have their -representatives permanently stationed here to keep in closest possible -touch with the latest French fashions. - -This question of style is of such absorbing interest to the average -American home that it will be worth while to notice the forces at work -in Lyons to produce it. Paris is so largely the parade ground for new -fashions that nearly everyone overlooks the tremendous influence of -Lyons in the creation of styles. The hundred and more silk manufacturers -of Lyons have their own designers, who are constantly devising new -patterns and color combinations. Most of the new designs and color -schemes that appear every season in muslins, taffetas, satins, in all -the varied kinds and qualities of silk, have their origin here. This is -the creative source. It is Paris that discriminates and decides to which -of these new patterns it will give expression in the models which will -be copied in all the fashion centers of the world. Paris has the -artistic sense of knowing how to combine the materials that Lyons -furnishes. The two cities work together. The famous fashion stores of -Paris and the silk manufacturers of Lyons are the primary factors in the -creation of styles, and yet, after all, the origin of style is to be -found in the spirit of the times. Our restless age craves constant -change. A century ago in France, when life moved more slowly, the silk -dress was an important part of the bride's trousseau, and after being -worn on special occasions through her life, was handed down to the next -generation. But to-day the styles change with the seasons. - -And as they change in Paris so they change in the United States. If we -look at this question of style simply from the standpoint of -organization, it seems remarkable how perfectly every little detail of -the complicated machinery has been worked out. A French silk -manufacturer, who arrived in Lyons after a visit to several American -cities, was impressed not only with the rapidity with which styles -spread from the upper to the middle classes, and the quickness with -which the American people grasp new ideas of dress, but also with the -fact that Paris fashions appear in New York and Chicago at almost the -same time that they appear in Paris. He saw accurate reproductions of -the spring Paris fashions, made in America of French materials, and with -the color, the line, the idea, the detail, so perfectly reproduced that -it would have been difficult to decide between them and the Paris -garment. More and more we are coming to realize our great debt to -France, and to the Old World, for our education in matters of taste, for -our appreciation of beauty in line and color. - -And in Lyons one comes closest to this artistic spirit in the workshops -of the weavers, and especially those who work on the hand looms. There -are thousands of these weavers of the old school that has done so much -to make famous the silk industry of the city. Their wages are small and -they work amid surroundings of extreme poverty. We visited some of them -in their shops. Often we found the loom situated in a damp, gloomy -basement, or on the top floor of some old house that looked as though it -might have passed through the storm and stress of the period of the -French Revolution. These sanitary conditions are so bad that in 1911 -there was organized a charitable company with the sole purpose of -providing decent lodgings where the weavers could work under improved -conditions of light and shade. We always found them hospitable, eager to -exhibit their work and explain the workings of the loom. In one workshop -the weaver was busy with a piece of satin, the design being wrought in -silver and gold. For this beautiful bit of tapestry, which had been -ordered for one of the apartments of the Queen of England in Windsor -Castle, the workman was receiving only one dollar a day. On another loom -there was being reproduced a piece of sixteenth-century brocade. A -French millionaire had noticed the original in a museum and wanted an -exact reproduction of it for a new château he is building. After a -morning passed amid such scenes, you feel that Lyons is worth visiting, -if for no other reason than to see at their work these artists of the -loom who are so closely associated with one of the world's oldest and -most interesting industries. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -CHAMBÉRY TO NÎMES - - -From Chambéry our course ran southwest through the Midi, that great -sweep of territory stretching across the Mediterranean basin from the -Alps to the Pyrenees and embracing many of the most interesting regions -in France. - -Our departure, early in the afternoon, was under somber skies. We were -just reaching the outskirts of the city when the engine gave evidence of -trouble. The car ran for a little way and then stopped. An investigation -revealed the necessity of cleaning the spark plugs. While engaged in -this work, we did not notice the approach of an ox team which came -swinging along the road, drawing a two-wheeled cart, the wheels high and -heavy, of a type which one often sees in the Midi. We were bending over -the engine, with no thought of impending danger, when, without warning, -the great wheels were upon us. The driver was evidently asleep; it was -too late to attract his attention. The wheel grazed one of us, and -then, as the oxen swung in, crushed the other against the fender. It was -fortunate that the fender yielded just enough to cause him to be forced -under it and thus saved him from serious injury. Our car carried the -scars of that encounter until the end of the trip. We were just as well -satisfied that it was the car which bore the scars. - -Not more than a mile or so from the scene of this adventure, a sign -called attention to a long tunnel just ahead. The signs of the French -roads speak an expressive language, they are so elaborately worked out -for the traveler's convenience. This time it was a voice of warning. -Lamps were lighted. The tunnel closed over us. We could just make out -the faint star of daylight ahead. Weird shadows danced in front of the -car. In the silence and gloom, the noise of our progress over the -slippery road was greatly magnified. We emerged from the tunnel to find -ourselves above a broad valley and nearing the small town of Les -Echelles. - -[Illustration: _Out of the silence and gloom_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -Until this point our course was the route to the Grande Chartreuse, the -monastery where, in mediæval days, the monks concocted a soothing -cordial to refresh the hours of rude toil. The road now branched off in -another direction. Our hopes of catching a glimpse of the celebrated old -monastery, built high amid enshrining mountains, were doomed to -disappointment. A storm was about to break. Heavy clouds, weighted down -by their burdens of water, blotted out everything. From a patch of blue -sky above Les Echelles, the sun streamed, and then disappeared. We raced -down the easy slope to gain shelter in the village a mile away. Swiftly -the thick curtain of rain closed in. It was a question whether we would -be able to reach shelter before the fury of the elements burst upon us. -Once more our car proved equal to the emergency, and we poked our way -into the shed adjoining a village inn and waited until the worst of the -storm had subsided. The rain continuing, we put up the top, and started -in time to see a brilliant rainbow arching the whole valley. It was only -for a moment. For the rest of the afternoon we splashed steadily -through puddles and mud. - -The scenery changed. Mountain landscapes gave place to the lowlands of -the Midi, barren rocks to fertile peasant farms. It was all a glimpse of -France as she really is; not like Germany, a land of large cities, but -rather of small towns and rural hamlets where peasant ownership is a -fact, and where the peasantry form a mighty political force. France, so -torn by rival factions, would be like a machine without a balance wheel -if it were not for a large peasant class attached to the soil by the -bond of ownership. The life of the French peasant is not easy. He toils -long hours for small rewards. Even in the rain, we could see him -continuing at his work. But he is free. Those two or three acres are his -own. That is the great point. This fact of possession, by creating local -ties and by fostering patriotism, is the safeguard of the country. His -implements appeared to be of the simplest; probably most of those whom -we saw working on that rainy afternoon had never seen a steam plow or a -harvesting machine. The homes were equally rude. Everywhere in France -we noticed the absence of those cozy, comfortable houses which are so -characteristic of the average American farm. Few fences were to be seen, -possibly because of the spirit of justice as regards property rights, or -perhaps because the land laws had been so perfectly worked out. - -We entered Romans through a street so unusually wide as to be a pleasant -surprise. Darkness was coming on. Road signs were indistinct, so we were -forced to inquire the way to Valence. The people were obliging. Whether -we were in the country or in some small town, there was always in -evidence that same spirit of hospitable helpfulness which we found at -the French _douane_ in Séez. - -The street lamps of Valence were burning when we arrived at the Hôtel de -la Croix d'Or, so well known to all who journey from Paris to the -Riviera. The marble entrance was quite imposing, but apparently after -reaching the top of the staircase the builders were suddenly seized by a -passion for economy, since the interior was very plain, like most of -the hotels in the French provincial towns. The dinner, however, made up -for other deficiencies. Here, and all through the Midi, we could be sure -of delicious _haricots verts_, _omelette_, and _poulet_; and what may -seem strange, we never became tired of these dishes. The art of cooking -them must be a monopoly of the French cuisine, for they never tasted so -good in other countries. - -Valence is more of a place to stop _en tour_ than to visit for -sight-seeing. It is fortunate in being situated on the main route from -Paris to the Riviera, the road that we were to follow, and probably the -most popular and most frequented motor road in France. Over its smooth, -broad surface passes the winter rush of motorists seeking the warmer, -more congenial climate of the Mediterranean shores. - -We often found more or less trouble in getting out of the larger French -towns. The streets are apt to have a snarl and tangle. Carts and wagons -block the way. Roads are the worse for wear. This seemed to us one of -the big differences between France and Germany. The German town is neat, -clean, well-kept as if the watchful eye of municipal authority were -always on the alert to notice and remedy small defects. The average -French town looks neglected. The people are just as thrifty, but they -appear to care less for appearances. - -From Valence we swung more quickly than usual into the splendid Route -Nationale above mentioned. It was Sunday. Peasants were entering and -coming from the small age-worn churches. At that hour the fields looked -strangely deserted. Blue skies were radiant, the air agreeably cooled by -the rain of the night before, the dust well laid. More and more we were -yielding to the fascination of Europe from a motor car. Train schedules -did not trouble us. We were independent. There were no worries about -having to arrive or depart at a certain hour. Life on the road was a -constant flow of new impressions, new experiences. Every village had its -own unique attraction. Many motor cars passed us, each one an object of -interest. Possibly in our cruise along these high seas of the French -roads our feelings were a little like those of the mariner when he -sights a passing ship. Where does she hail from? Where her probable -destination? Of what make? What flag is she flying? It was always a -welcome sight to view the Stars and Stripes flying toward us. One can -usually tell the American car even when some distance away, it is built -so high. We noticed many Fords and Cadillacs. There is not much of a -market in Europe for the expensive American car, because the foreign -high-priced car is considered by the Europeans to be good enough. The -cheaper American product has a market because few of the foreign firms -make a cheap car. - -High noon was upon us, the heat oppressive, our appetites ravenous, when -we stopped in the poor little village of Pierrelatte. The prospect for -lunch was not encouraging. A single stray resident appeared at the other -end of the silent street. The houses might have been occupied by -peasants who wrested mere existence from a barren soil. The inn, which -was pointed out to us, would never have been recognized as such. It -looked more like a venerable ruin. In an American town of this size we -would have hesitated before entering, and then probably would have -turned away in despair to look for a bakery shop to stay the pangs of -hunger. But we were growing familiar with the small French towns. It -does not take long to discover that a hotel with an exterior symbolizing -woe and want can have a very attractive interior at lunch time. - -[Illustration: - -_The ancient Roman theater at Orange_ _Page 88_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -We are still carrying pleasant memories of that lunch. There was _potage -St. Germain_, made as only the French can make it. The oil for the -_salade_ was from the neighboring olive groves of Provençe. The -_haricots verts_ picked that morning in the garden, the _raisins_ fresh -from the vineyard. Best of all were the mushroom patties. One portion -called for another. Our hostess was pleased; there was no mistaking our -genuine appreciation of her cooking. Interrupting her culinary labors, -she told us that the mushrooms were of her own canning. Each year it was -necessary to lay in a larger supply. Tourists had found them so good -that, on leaving, they had left orders for shipment to their home -addresses. Now she was planning to erect a small factory. Her recital -was interrupted by a Frenchman, who implored "_une troisième portion_." -He purchased a dozen cans of mushrooms, and if they had been gold -nuggets he could not have stowed them away more carefully in his car. -The French are authorities when it is a question of good things to eat. - -The road to Orange was like a continuous leafy arbor. This shimmering -arcade was too refreshingly cool to be covered quickly. On the outskirts -of Orange we halted to see the Arc de Triomphe, a wonderful echo from -the age of Tiberius. The arch stands in a circular grassy plot and the -road divides, as if this product of the Roman mind were too precious to -be exposed to the accidents of ordinary traffic. - -The antique theater at the other end of the town is just as remarkable -for architectural splendor. It is not enough to say that this structure -is the largest and most magnificent of its kind in the world. It is also -the best preserved. Every year in August dramatic and lyrical -performances are given by _La Comédie Française_. Thus, after nearly -twenty centuries, the theater is still serving its original purpose. -We were impressed by the auditory facilities. One of us stood on the -lowest tier of seats, and the other on the topmost row. Even a whisper -was distinctly audible. The erection of buildings with such perfect -acoustics may perhaps be classed among the lost arts. - -[Illustration: _Arc de Triomphe at Orange_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -Southward from Orange, the country began to look more like Italy. Olive -and mulberry trees were more numerous. The cypress trees, so often seen -in Italian cemeteries, gave an impression of solemnity, almost of -melancholy, to the country. At times they fringed the highway or stood -alone upon the horizon like a distant steeple against a crimson sunset. - -The twilight was full of a brooding, dreamy silence as of communion with -the past. This is the atmosphere of Provençe, an atmosphere of "old, -forgotten, far-off things and battles long ago." If one is interested in -wonderful ruins that suggest the might of Rome's empire, then let him go -to Provençe, that part of southern France where the Romans founded their -_provincia_, and where they built great cities. We found the hotels -rather dreary. The towns were quiet. Many of them, like Pierrelatte, -looked so poor. The streets were dirty and littered. One notices these -things at first, and then forgets them, the air is so clear, the -sunshine so dazzling, the horizons so distinct, the stars so bright. - -Much of the country is barren and rocky. But the rocks as well as the -ruins have a rich, golden brown color from being steeped for centuries -in this bright southern sun. The people are romantic, impractical, happy -in their poverty, singing amid grinding routine. They have their own -dialect, which is very musical. Even the names of their towns and cities -are full of music, for example, Montélimar, Avignon, Carcassonne. The -country, with its Roman ruins, its bright sun, its rich color, its -laughter, and song, is like another Italy. Nowhere except in that land -do we come so close to the great things of Roman antiquity. - -We reached the Grand Hôtel in Avignon at nightfall, but dined outside -that we might the better observe the life of the people. The sweet voice -of an Italian street singer made it easy for us to imagine ourselves -under the skies of Florence or Naples. Avignon is the most Italian -looking city in France. - -[Illustration: _The Palace of the Popes at Avignon_ _Page 91_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -The following morning was devoted to rambling. Sometime we must spend a -week in this interesting walled city on the Rhone, where the popes lived -between 1305 and 1377 in the huge palace that resembles a fortress. If -there were nothing to Avignon but its high mediæval walls and watch -towers, the place would be worth a long pilgrimage. These gray ramparts, -apparently new, were actually built in the fourteenth century. What a -picture they gave us of stormy feudal times, when even the Church was -compelled to seek safety behind strong walls! - -The Palais des Papes is a colossal structure. We have forgotten what -pope it was who was besieged here for years by a French army, and then -escaped by the postern; it does not matter. The palace walls looked high -and thick enough to defy all attack. The scenes of vice and profligacy -during this period must have rivaled the court life of an ancient Roman -emperor. There was one pope, John XXII, who in eighteen years amassed a -fortune of eighteen million gold florins in specie, not to mention the -trifling sum of seven millions in plate and jewels. Perhaps it was just -as well for the popes of that time that the walls of their fortress -towers were high and thick. - -Above the palace of the popes and the adjoining cathedral is the -Promenade des Doms, a public garden. We followed one of the paths that -led along the edge of a high precipice. This view is one of the sights -of Avignon. It embraces the valley of the Rhone, the swiftest river in -France. The rapid current winds and disappears. Nearly opposite, on the -other shore, is the village of Villeneuve. It is desolate enough now, -with no trace of the beautiful villas which the cardinals built and -where they were wont to revel amid luxury after the day's duties at the -palace. Beyond the town we could see the stately towers of Fort St. -André, in that early period a frontier fortress of France, so jealous of -the growing power of the papacy. Most appealing of all, was the broken -bridge of St. Benezet, resisting with its few remaining arches the -hastening Rhone. Above one of the piers is the little Chapel of St. -Nicholas. The bridge is a romantic relic of the gay life of Avignon when -the city was the refuge of the popes. Daudet, in his _Lettres de mon -Moulin_, tells us that the streets were too narrow for the _farandole_, -so the people would place the pipes and tambourine on the bridge and -there, in the fresh wind of the Rhone, they would dance and sing. - -[Illustration: _The ruined bridge of St. Benezet at Avignon_ _Page 92_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - - "Sur le pont d'Avignon, l'on y danse, 'on y danse; - Sur le pont d'Avignon, l'on y danse tous en rond." - -The distance to Nîmes was so short that we decided to motor there for -lunch, see the vast Roman amphitheater and the world-famous Maison -Carrée, and then push on to Montpellier, where we planned to spend the -night and perhaps remain for a day or so. - -The ride was more memorable for the oppressive heat than for any -particular charm of scenery. It was noon when we crossed the river and -looked back for a last view of the huge Palais des Papes. The sun blazed -upon the white road, which quivered like white heat. There were few -trees. The engine hood was so hot that we could not touch it. It would -not have surprised us if one tire, or all of them, had burst; they -probably would have done so if we had gone much farther. The glare was -so intense that we entirely overlooked the little _octroi_ station on -the edge of the town. We, however, were not overlooked. Some one was -shouting and waving a hundred yards behind us. It was not inspiring to -back slowly through our own dust to convey the valuable information that -we carried nothing dutiable. Of course, at a time like this, the engine -refused to start. After vigorously "cranking" for a quarter of an hour, -and suffering all the sensations of sunstroke, we moved on to the Hôtel -du Luxembourg for _déjeuner_. - -Among our recollections of the lunch at this hotel were the ripe, purple -figs. There is no reason why we should confess how quickly this -delicious fruit disappeared. Farther north, in Berlin, such figs would -have been a luxury, and might have appeared for sale at a fancy price in -some store window. In Nîmes they were served as a regular part of the -lunch. We could almost have traced our trip southward by the fruits that -were served us from time to time. - -[Illustration: _The Maison Carrée at Nimes_ _Page 95_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -The broad boulevards and shady avenues of Nîmes form a small part of the -attractions of this prosperous city. There are fine theaters and cafés, -especially the cafés with tables and chairs extending into the streets -to accommodate the crowds of thirsty patrons. It was pleasant to be a -part of this typically French environment, to watch this group or that, -with their gestures, shrugging of shoulders, laughter, and rapid -conversation. Many phases of French life pass before so advantageous an -observation point. - -But Nîmes is not simply a modern city. Nowhere else in France, not even -in Orange, does one get a clearer idea of what the splendor of Roman -civilization must have been. _Provincia_ was a favorite and favored -province of the empire; Nîmes was the center of provincial life. For -five centuries the different emperors took turns in enriching and -embellishing it. We visited the Maison Carrée, most perfect of existing -Roman temples, inspected the gateway called the Porte d'Auguste, looked -up at the Tour Magne, a Roman tower, saw the remains of the Roman baths, -and then made our way to the amphitheater, smaller than the Colosseum -but so wonderfully preserved that you simply lose track of the -centuries. The great stones, fitting so evenly without cement, have that -same rich, golden brown color, the prevailing color tone of Provençe. We -entered the amphitheater through one of many arcades, the same arcades -through which so many generations of toga-clad Romans had passed to -applaud the gladiatorial combats. Now the people go there to see the -bull fights which are held three or four times a year. On that -particular afternoon a large platform had been erected for the orchestra -in the middle of the arena. Open-air concerts are very popular in Nîmes -during the summer. - -It was something of a shock to pass from these scenes of Roman life by a -jump into a motor car--the amphitheater illustrating the grandeur of -Rome's once imperial sway, the motor car symbolizing the spirit of our -rushing modern age. The contrast was startling. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -NÎMES TO CARCASSONNE - - -There was abundance of time to arrive in Montpellier before dark, so we -let the speedometer waver between thirty and thirty-five kilometers. The -road was hardly a model of smoothness. We were not always enthusiastic -about the roads in the Midi. On the whole, they were not much more than -average, and not so good as we had expected to find them after that -first experience on the Route Nationale to Chambéry. Where there was a -bad place in the road we usually saw a pile of loose stones waiting to -be used for repair, but many of these piles looked as though they had -been waiting a long time. The roads are apparently allowed to go too -long before receiving attention. Owing to the increasing amount of heavy -traffic, the deterioration in recent years has been more rapid than -formerly. In some of the provinces, like Touraine, there were short -stretches of roadway in urgent need of repair. With conditions as they -now are, the money voted by the government is insufficient to keep up -the standard of former years. England now expends more than twice as -much per mile as France, but while the French roads are in danger of -losing to England the supremacy they have so long enjoyed, we cannot -state too clearly that, taken as a whole, they are still the finest on -the Continent. It is probable that the present signs of decadence are -only temporary. The government is fully alive to the needs of the hour. -In all probability the movement headed by President Poincaré more fully -to open up the provinces to motor-tourist travel will have a good effect -upon road conditions. - -It would be hard to find a small French city which makes such a pleasant -first impression as Montpellier; there is such an atmosphere of culture. -One does not need to be told that this is a university town. Municipal -affairs seem to be well regulated; the _hôtel de ville_ would do credit -to a much larger city. We discovered an open-air restaurant located upon -an attractive _place_. The _garçon_, after receiving a preliminary -_pourboire_, served us so well that we returned there the next day. - -Everybody who visits Montpellier will remember the Promenade de Peyrou -which rises above the town. The scenic display is great. Only a few -miles away, and in clear view, tosses the restless Mediterranean. The -prospect made us realize how far south we had come since the starting of -our tour from Berlin. Another interesting bit of sight-seeing in the -neighborhood is the Jardin des Plantes, a remarkable botanical garden -which was founded as far back as 1593 by Henry IV, and is said to be the -oldest in France. - -Whatever the indictment against French roads in the Midi, the stretch -from Montpellier to Carcassonne was above reproach. Much of the way it -was the French highway at its best. Wide-spreading trees arched our -route. We would have been speeding every foot of the distance if the -beautiful scenery had not acted as a constant brake. For a little way we -ran close to the sea. The fresh salt breeze fanned our faces. It was a -rare glimpse of the Mediterranean. This enchanting scene lasted but a -moment, for the road swerved into the great vineyards of the Midi, an -Arcadian land of peace and plenty, the home of a wine industry -celebrated since Roman times. As far as the eye could reach, nothing but -these green waves that billowed and rolled away from either side of the -road. There was a touch of fall in the air, a glint of purple amid the -green. Ripening suns and tender rains had done their work. The road led -through Béziers, bustling center of preparations for the harvest. On -several occasions we passed a wagon loaded with wine casks so large that -three horses with difficulty drew it. The capacity of those huge casks -must have been thousands of gallons. - -At Béziers we could have taken the direct route to Toulouse, but then we -would have missed seeing Carcassonne, the most unique architectural -curiosity in France and perhaps in the whole world. Our roundabout -course brought us to Capestang, a scattered peasant village inhabited by -laborers in the vineyards. The luxuries and even the ordinary -conveniences seemed far away from these homes. The shutters consisted of -nothing but a couple of boards bolted or nailed together and clumsily -working on a hinge. It was a region of flies; certainly they had -invaded the little inn where we lunched. A heavy green matting tried -ineffectually to take the place of a screen door, and let in thousands -of unbidden guests. Under these circumstances our lunch was a hasty one. -As the noontide heat was too great to permit a start, we gladly accepted -the invitation of our _hôtesse_ to see the church. The cool interior -induced us to prolong our acquaintance with the sacred relics and to -admire with our guide a statue of St. Peter whose halo had become -somewhat dimmed by the dust of centuries. - -The afternoon's ride to Carcassonne was in the face of a strong wind. It -was our first experience with the mistral, a curious and disagreeable -phenomenon of Provençe. There was no let-up to the storms of dust it -swept over us. There were no clouds; simply this incessant wind that -hurled its invisible forces against the car, at times with such violence -that we were almost standing still. A heavy rainstorm would have been -preferable; at least we would not then have been so blinded by the dust. -Occasionally the shelter of the high hills gave a brief respite from -the choking gusts. - -All at once we forgot about the wind. In full view from the road was a -hill crowned by the towers and ramparts of a mediæval city, a marvelous -maze of battlements, frowning and formidable as if the enemy were -expected any moment. We rode on to _la ville basse_, the other and more -modern Carcassonne, a little checkerboard of a city with streets running -at right angles and so different from the usual intricate streets of -mediæval origin. Securing rooms at the Grand Hôtel St. Bernard, we -hastened back, lest in the meantime an apparition so mirage-like should -have disappeared. The first view of this silent, fortified city makes -one believe that the imagination has played tricks. There is something -fairy-like and unreal in the vision. It seems impossible that so -majestic a spectacle could have survived the ages in a form so perfect -and complete. - -Carcassonne had always been one of our travel dreams. From somewhere -back in high-school days came the memory of a French poem about an old -soldier, a veteran of the Napoleonic wars, who longed to see _la cité_. -One day he started on his pilgrimage, but he was sick and feeble. His -weakness increased, and death overtook him while the journey was still -unfinished. He never saw Carcassonne. Since that time we had wondered -what kind of place it was that had made such an impression upon the -French writers, and induced the French government to make of it a -_monument historique_. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The castle and double line of fortifications at Carcassonne_ _Page -103_] - -At that moment, as we climbed the hill, the past seemed more real than -the present. We looked for armored knights upon the wall, and listened -for the rattle of weapons, the sharp challenge of the sentry. Crossing -the drawbridge over the deep moat, we were conducted by the _gardien_ -along the walls and through the fighting-towers, great masses of masonry -that had known so often the horrors of attack and siege. In this double -belt of fortifications there were sentinel stations and secret tunnels -by which the city was provisioned in time of war. Here, was a wall that -the Romans had built; there, a tower constructed by the Visigoths; and -all so well preserved, as if there were no such thing as the touch of -time or the flight of centuries. Other places, like Avignon, show the -military architecture of the Middle Ages, but it is the work of a single -epoch. The defenses of Carcassonne show all the systems of military -architecture from Roman times to the fourteenth century. Nowhere in the -world can be found such a perfect picture of the military defenses of -the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries. The walls and the huge -round towers tell their own thrilling tales of Roman occupation, of -Visigothic triumph, and of conquering Saracen. Then we could understand -why the old French soldier longed to see Carcassonne, and why tourists -from all over the world include the city in their itinerary of places -that must be visited. - -From our lofty observation point on the ramparts there was visible a -great range of country, the slender windings of the river Aude, the -foothills of the Pyrenees, and the vague summits of the Cévennes. We -followed a silent grass-grown street to the church of St. Nazaire. It -was beautiful to see the windows of rare Gothic glass in the full glow -of the setting sun. Such burning reds, such brilliant blues and purples! -"_C'est magnifique comme c'est beau._" A French family was standing near -us. Before leaving the church, we looked back. They were still under the -spell of that glory of color. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The walled city of Carcassonne_] - -There may have been an elevator in the Grand Hôtel St. Bernard, but we -were not successful in locating it. In a general way, this modest -hostelry was of the same type which one finds in most of the small -French cities like Valence and Avignon. We were of course greatly -interested in gathering and comparing impressions of provincial hotel -life. This was particularly interesting in a country like France, where -the provinces with their rural and small-town life represent to such a -marked degree the nation as a whole. It is always an instructive -experience to discover how other countries live, and to compare their -standard of living with our own. The hotel life of any country, if we -keep away from fashionable tourist centers, usually gives an -illuminating insight into the customs of that people. We had often -noticed that the French are indifferent to matters relating to domestic -architecture. So long as the kitchen performs its functions well, so -long as the quality of the cuisine is above criticism, it does not -matter if the rooms are small and gloomy or if the architect forgets to -put a bathroom in the house. The Frenchman likes to dine well. The café -ministers to his social life. But with these important questions settled -to his satisfaction, he is not inclined to be too exacting about his -domestic environment. - -If we keep in mind these general observations, it will be easier for us -to understand the defects and advantages of the French provincial hotel. -Most of the hotels where we passed the night would not begin to compare, -in many ways, with the hotels to be found in American towns of the same -size. We noticed a characteristic lack of progressiveness in so many -respects. It was exceptional to find running hot and cold water. The -corridors were narrow and gloomy, the electric light poor for reading. -If there was an elevator, it usually failed to work. Bathing facilities -were on the same primitive scale. The attractions of the writing room -were conspicuous for their absence. In France it is usually the writing -room that suffers most; either it is a gloomy, stuffy chamber, more -fitted to be a closet than a place for correspondence, or else located -with no idea of privacy, and in full view of everyone coming in and -going out. There were no cheerful lounging or smoking rooms. Had it been -winter, the heating facilities would probably have left much to be -desired, and we might often have repeated our experience at the Hôtel -Touvard in Romans. It was January, and very cold. Arriving early in the -afternoon, we found that our rooms had absorbed a large part of the -frigidity of out-of-doors. Complaints were fruitless. We were informed -that it was not the custom of the hotel management to heat the rooms -before seven o'clock in the evening. - -In our selection of hotels we followed the advice contained in the -excellent _Michelin Guide_, which has a convenient way of placing two -little gables opposite the names of hotels above the average. While -they were not pretentious, the quality of service was surprisingly good. -We could always get hot water when we wanted it. The _maître de l'hôtel_ -was always on the alert to render our stay as comfortable as possible, -and to give us any information to facilitate sight-seeing. Most of the -hotels had electric lights, such as they were; the bedrooms were clean -and comfortable, the cuisine faultless. If it be true that one pays as -high as two francs for a bath, that is because bathing among the French -is more of the nature of a ceremony than a habit. As for the small and -neglected writing room, we must remember that in France the café usurps -that function of the American hotel. This is a national custom. How the -Frenchman lives in his café! Here he comes before lunch for his -_aperitif_, to discuss business or politics, to write letters, to read -the newspapers and play games, to enjoy his _tasse de café_ after lunch, -and in summer to while away the drowsy hours of the early afternoon -while listening to open-air music. - -It was pleasant to meet in Carcassonne two American students from -Joliet, Illinois, who were making a long European tour on "Indian" motor -cycles. One of them had received not less than six punctures the -preceding day and was awaiting in Carcassonne the arrival of another -tire. He was beginning to be a little doubtful about the perfect joys of -motor cycling on the French roads. Neither of them spoke French, but -their resourceful American gestures had up to that point extricated them -from situations both humorous and annoying. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -CARCASSONNE TO TARBES - - -Our ride toward Toulouse led us steadily into southwestern France and -nearer the Pyrenees. From time to time the landscape, with its fields of -fodder corn, was peculiarly American. The illusion never lasted long; a -château appeared on a distant hill, or a sixteenth-century church by the -roadside, and we were once more in Europe, with its ancient architecture -and historical association, with its infinite change of scenery and -life. - -Our trip never grew monotonous. There was always the element of the -unexpected. For instance, in the village of Villefranche we rode into -the midst of a local _fête_. Banners overhung the road; flags were -flying from the windows; ruddy-cheeked girls in gay peasant dress were -practicing in the dusty street a rustic two-step or _farandole_ in -preparation for the harvest dance. - -While entering Toulouse we narrowly escaped disaster. It was not late, -but our depleted funds made it necessary to reach a bank before closing -time. Suddenly a bicycle rider shot out from a cross street. There was a -"whish" as we grazed his rear wheel. The infinitesimal fraction of an -inch means a good deal sometimes. - -We were too late; the banks were closed. The next day was a business -holiday, and the following day was Sunday. Our letter-of-credit would -not help us before Monday. But as luck would have it, we were able to -discover and fall back upon a few good American express checks. Our -hotel, the Tiviolier, gave us a poor rate of exchange, but almost any -exchange would have looked good at that poverty-stricken moment. - -Toulouse, the flourishing and lively capital of Languedoc, is a city of -brick still awaiting its Augustus to make of it a city of marble. The -old museum must have been a splendid monastery. We dined in three -different restaurants, and fared sumptuously in them all. The -_cassoulet_ of Toulouse was so good that we tried to order it in other -towns. The experiences of the day very fittingly included a trolley ride -along the banks of the famous Canal du Midi, and a visit to the -remarkable church of St. Sernin, considered the finest Romanesque -monument in France. - -It would have been difficult not to make an early start the next -morning, the air was so keenly exhilarating. The usually turbid Garonne -revealed limpid depths and blue skies as we crossed the bridge. The road -dipped into a valley and then, ascending, spread before us imposing -mountain ranges. The Pyrenees were in sight; every mile brought them -nearer. The name was magical. It suggested landscapes colorful and -lovely, strange types of peasant dress, songs that had been sung the -same way for centuries, exquisite villages that had never been awakened -by the locomotive's whistle. Range retreated behind range into -mysterious cloud realms. The road was like a _boulevard Parisien_ under -the black bars of shadow cast by the poplar trees. - -At St. Gaudens, where we stopped before the Hôtel Ferrière for lunch, an -American party was just arriving from the opposite direction. There were -three middle-aged ladies and a French chauffeur who did not appear to -understand much English. The question of what they should order for -lunch was evidently not settled. One of them wished to order _potage St. -Germain_. Another thought it would be better to have something else for -a change, since they had partaken of _potage St. Germain_ the preceding -day. The remaining member of the party was sure it would be nicer if -they saved time by all ordering the same thing, but did not suggest what -that should be. The chauffeur, who looked hungry and cross, merely -contributed a long-suffering silence to the conversation. - -[Illustration: _The Pyrenees were in sight_ _Page 112_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -Leaving our car in the garage and our sympathy with the unfortunate -chauffeur, we went in to give appreciative attention to a well-served -ménu. So long as we remained in France we never failed to order -sardines. There is a certain quality and delicacy about the flavor of -the French sardine which one misses outside of that country. Coffee was -served outside, under the trees in front of the hotel, where we could -watch the life of the road. St. Gaudens is on the main highway passing -through the Pyrenees to Cannes and Nice on the Riviera. It is also the -central market for the fine cattle of the Pyrenees, and for their sale -and distribution to other parts of France and the outside world. We -could see them swaying lazily along the road, big, powerful creatures -with wide horns and glossy skin. - -Descending from St. Gaudens into the plain, we shot along the highway to -Montréjeau, where there was a steep ascent through this bizarre little -town, very Italian looking with its arcaded streets, red roofs, and -brightly painted shutters. Then the moors of a high plateau swept by us -until we darted downward and curved for several miles through a -beautiful wooded valley. - -One of the front tires was evidently in trouble. It was our first -puncture in more than thirteen hundred miles of motoring, not a bad -record when one considers the frequency of such accidents on European -roads, where the hobnails of peasants lie in ambush at every turn. We -halted by the side of the road, to put on a fresh tire, refusing many -offers of assistance from passing cars. - -An unusual reception awaited us near Tournay. The whole barnyard family -had taken the road for their private promenade. There were a couple of -mules, some goats, half a dozen geese, and a large white bull. He was a -savage looking brute as he stood facing us and angrily pawing the -ground. It did not add to our composure when a gaunt collie, awakened by -the noise, came snarling up to the car. At this eventful moment, the -engine stopped running. No one of us was in a hurry to alight and "crank -up." The barnyard clamor would have rivaled the well-known symphony of -the Edison Phonograph Company of New York and Paris. At last a peasant -appeared. He whistled to the dog and succeeded in driving the bull to -one side, so that we could edge by to less dangerous scenes. - -The standard of living in these mountain communities is not high. We saw -one farmhouse where the goats moved in and out as if very much at home -and on the same social footing as their peasant owners. A mile farther -on, we were spectators at a dance which the peasants were giving along -the roadside. There was an orchestra of two violins and a cornet, -enthroned upon a wooden platform brightly decorated with flags and -flowers. A dozen couples were dancing up and down the road. Wooden shoes -were all the style. This unique ballroom floor impressed us as being -rather dusty. Steepsided valleys yawned in quick succession. There were -views of the snowy Pyrenees. On the side of a mountain we caught a -moment's glimpse of Tarbes in the plain. - -The Grand Hôtel Moderne was a happy surprise. The elevator actually -worked, and the running hot and cold water was a boon delightful to find -after these dusty mountain roads. Tarbes is chiefly interesting for its -great horse-breeding industry. Barère, the regicide, described by -Macaulay as coming "nearer than any person mentioned in history or -fiction, whether man or devil, to the idea of consummate and universal -depravity," was born here in 1755. Tourist traffic has found Tarbes to -be a convenient stopping place on the through route from Biarritz on the -Atlantic to the winter resorts of the Mediterranean shores, and also a -natural center for excursions to the Pyrenees. We remained in Tarbes -an extra day to make the trip to Lourdes, the tragic Mecca for -increasing thousands of Catholic pilgrims. - -[Illustration: _Ice peaks of the Pyrenees_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -A short half-hour's ride and then Lourdes, without doubt one of the most -dismal and melancholy places in the world. We are certain that nothing -would ever draw us there again. For many, the trip is a pilgrimage of -faith; others go from curiosity; but for so many suffering thousands the -miraculous spring at Lourdes is the goal of anxious hopes. They gather -from all parts of France, from England, Scotland, and Ireland, and even -from distant parts of Europe. Last year there were over six hundred -thousand visitors. Around us, on that afternoon, we saw the sick and the -dying. Some were hobbling along on crutches, others walking helplessly -with sightless eyes. Many were being carried on stretchers, and there -were sights that we would rather not mention. It seemed as if all the -diseases to which mortal humanity is heir were represented in that -pathetic throng. The following newspaper account describes the -pilgrimage which left Paris in August, 1913: - -"The great Austerlitz Railway station in Paris presented a strange and -terrible scene--and above all, a distressingly pitiful one--yesterday -afternoon, when the annual pilgrimage to Lourdes set forth on the long -journey to the little Pyrenean village. During last night thirty-three -special long trains converged on Lourdes from every quarter of France. -Every train ran slowly because of the many sick people on board. And -this morning all the trains will reach their destination and will -discharge their pilgrims at the station near the shrine. - -"From two to four o'clock, the greater part of the Austerlitz station -was given up entirely to the pilgrims. The railway servants withdrew, -and their places were taken by hundreds of saintly faced Little Sisters -of the Assumption, and brave men of all ages and all ranks in life, all -wearing the broad armlet that denoted their self-sacrificing service to -the sick and helpless. One by one, on stretchers, in bath chairs, over a -thousand suffering people, men and women of all ages, youths and little -children, entered the great hall of the station. - -"Each, as he or she is brought in, is laid upon a bench transformed -into an ambulance, to await the departure of the train. A silence that -is almost oppressive falls upon the usually noisy station; people speak -in whispers, and move with silent feet. - -"Then the train--the long white train for the _grands malades_--moves -softly in to the platform, and each poor human parcel is gently convoyed -to its allotted place. Eventually, the long task is over, and then came -the last moving ceremony. The Cardinal Archbishop of Paris passed slowly -down the train and blessed the sick within it. A moment after, without a -whistle or a sound, the long white train moved out. - -"Eight other equally long trains followed, the last bearing at the rear -the Red Cross flag." - -We watched the procession forming to move toward the sacred miraculous -spring, such a sad procession,--the halt, the maimed, and the blind, who -had come, many of them, thousands of miles to bathe in the icy waters -and be healed. Attendants passed us, carrying a sick man on a stretcher; -the eyes were closed, the features white and fixed. We saw a mother -clasping a sick child; she also joined the slow, pitiful procession. -Where will you find such a picture of human suffering! It was all like -the incurable ward of a vast open-air hospital. - -The fame of Lourdes dates back to 1858, when a little village girl, -fourteen years old, named Bernadette Soubirons, said that she had seen -and talked with the Virgin. This happened several times. Each time the -Virgin is said to have commanded the child to tell others, and to have a -church built above the spring, since its waters were to have miraculous -powers of healing. Crowds went with her to the grotto, but she was the -only one who saw anything. The Bishop of Tarbes believed in her visions. -The fact that the child was "diseased, asthmatic, and underfed," and -also that "she was not particularly intelligent," did not make any -difference. Pope Pius X issued a Bull of endorsement. A basilica was -built above the grotto, and from that time the thousands kept coming in -increasing numbers every year. - -We noticed that not all of the visitors to Lourdes had come on a -pilgrimage of faith. Everywhere one sees signs with large letters -warning against pickpockets. The evidence of business enterprise was -also unmistakable. There were large hotels; one long street was devoted -to bazaars for selling pious mementos; the windows of many shops -contained tin cans of all sizes for sale, these to be filled with -Lourdes water. The many advertisements of Lourdes lozenges, made from -Lourdes water, and the women dressed in black, sitting at the gates of -the garden and selling wax candles, all helped to give the place an -atmosphere of commercial enterprise. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -TARBES TO BIARRITZ - - -From Tarbes the road climbed a high hill above the city and then flung -its marvelous coils through the mountains to Pau, that fashionable -English resort where the Pyrenees can be seen marshaling their peaks in -such grandeur. The country around Pau looked very English. There were -neat villages with high-pitched roofs, spreading trees, and a feeling of -repose in the scenery very characteristic of the large English estate. -With almost fantastic suddenness, the landscape changed. Peasant houses -showed traces of Spanish influence. We saw no horses; plows and country -carts were drawn by bullocks. Such fine looking cattle of the Pyrenees, -hundreds of them! It seemed at least every few minutes that a new drove -crowded in confusion down the road or across it, and made it very -difficult for us to get through. There were many bulls. One hears so -many exciting tales about the savage bulls of the Pyrenees that we were -prepared for an attack at almost any time. - -If any one would like to make sure of having an eventful experience, we -suggest that he motor through the Pyrenees in a red car. Other motor -cars kept the dust clouds flying. At one railway crossing we counted ten -automobiles waiting for the bar to be lifted. - -A score of hungry motorists were lunching in the village inn of Orthez -when we arrived. One of them, a Frenchman, told us by all means to see -the curious fortified bridge that crosses the Gave in this village. -"_C'est très curieux. C'est quelque chose à voir!_" The ruin, with the -high stone tower in the middle of the bridge, is a thrilling relic of -the religious wars. One can see the tower window through which the -unfortunate priests and friars were forced by the Protestants to leap -into the rapid stream. Those who breasted the strong current were killed -as they climbed out on the banks. - -Bayonne was calling us. Our speedometer registered the kilometers so -quickly that there were fully two hours of daylight to spare when we -crossed the long bridge over the Adour in search of the Grand Hôtel. One -street led us astray, and then another, until we were in the suburbs -before discovering our mistake. It was a fortunate mistake, for we were -here favored with a view of the fortifications of Bayonne and the -ivy-covered ruin of Marrac, the château where Napoleon met the Spanish -king Ferdinand and compelled him to renounce the throne in favor of his -brother Joseph. It is one of the strange turnings of history that the -same city where Joseph was proclaimed King of Spain should have -witnessed, six years later, the downfall of his hopes. - -Our return search was more successful. We found the Grand Hôtel, and -then were half sorry that we had found it. The hotel was crowded, the -only _chambre_ placed at our disposal not large enough for two people. -An extra cot had been put in to meet the emergency. The room was gloomy, -and opened on a stuffy little court. Many repairs were under way, so -that the appearance of the hotel was far from being at its best. Had it -not been raining heavily we would have gone on to Biarritz; but the -torrents were descending. For one night we submitted to the inevitable -and to the inconvenience of our cramped quarters. On descending, we -noticed other tourists still arriving. Possibly these new victims were -stowed away in the elevator or in the garage. - -Our stay in Bayonne was, under the circumstances, not long, but long -enough for us to become acquainted with the _jambon delicieux_ and the -_bonbons_ for which the city is so well known. After paying our -_compte_, including a garage charge of two francs,--the first which we -had paid since leaving Chambéry,--we covered the few remaining -kilometers to Biarritz, stopping _en route_ to pick up ten liters of -gasoline in order to avoid the more extravagant prices of that -playground for Europe's royalty and aristocracy. The choicest feature of -our rooms at the Hôtel Victoria was the splendid outlook upon the -Atlantic and its ever-changing panorama of sky and sea. The Spanish -season was in full swing. There is always a season in the golden curve -of Biarritz's sunny sands. The Spanish invasion during the hot summer -months is followed by that of the French, when Parisian beauties -promenade in all the voluptuous array of costly toilettes. For a couple -of months, Paris ceases to be the proud capital of French animation and -gayety. During the winter, the place takes on the appearance of an -English colony; and the Russian royal family has made spring a -fashionable time for the invasion from that country. - -The charm of Biarritz is irresistible. It is easy to see why Napoleon -III made it the seat of his summer court and built the Villa Eugénie, -which has since become the Hôtel du Palais. If one searched the whole -coast line of Europe, it would be hard to find a spot so rich in natural -beauty. The sea has such wide horizons; no matter how calm the weather, -the snowy surges are always rolling on the Grande Plage. Other smaller -beaches alternate with rugged, rocky promontories. The coast line is -very irregular, full of arcades, caverns, and grottoes. At sunset, when -the wind falls and the air is clear, the coast of Spain appears, the -mountains respond to the western glow, and the low cadence of the waves -makes the scene too wonderful for words. - -We always looked forward to the morning plunge into the cool breakers. -Eleven o'clock was the popular hour. Then the Plage was covered with -brilliant tent umbrellas. There were the shouts of the bathers as the -green, foaming combers swept over them. The beach was a kaleidoscope of -color and animation. Dark-eyed _señoritas_, carrying brightly colored -parasols and robed in the latest and most original French toilettes, -walked along the shore. The Spanish women are very fond of dress, and -especially of anything that comes from Paris. Often the breeze would -sweep aside their veils of black silk, and show their powder-whitened -faces. French girls, daintily gowned and with complexions just as -"artistic," were busy with delicate embroidery. There were Basque -nursemaids whose somber black-and-white checkerboard costumes contrasted -with the latest styles from the gay metropolis. All types were there, -from the portly German who adjusted his monocle before wading into the -frothy brine, to the contemplative Englishman who smoked his pipe while -watching the animated scenes around him. Where will one find a more -cosmopolitan glimpse of fashionable Europe in the enjoyment of a summer -holiday! After the plunge comes the drying off on the warm sands, or -the walk, barefooted and in bathrobe, along the Plage; then lunch in the -casino restaurant above the sea, while an Italian orchestra plays music -that one likes to hear by the ocean. For our _tasse de café_ we would -choose one of the cafés along the crowded avenue Bellevue. What a -display of wealth and fine motor cars! - -[Illustration: _The Grande Plage at Biarritz_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -On one of these occasions we saw the young King of Spain stop his -Spanish car before one of the stores. He was bareheaded, and was driving -his own car. One of his officers sat with him. The king is a keen -sportsman, and motoring is one of his favorite diversions. Under the -reign of this popular and aggressive young monarch there ought to be -great progress in the improvement of the Spanish roads and in the -opening of Spain's scenic wealth to the tourist world. Toward the close -of the afternoon every one went to the beautiful casino to enjoy the -concert and _une tasse de thé_, and then later in the evening to watch -the brilliant spectacle of dress and gayety. - -The interesting places around Biarritz are part of its attraction. If we -had stayed there for months, there could have been an excursion for -each day. Placed beside the ocean, at the foot of the Pyrenees, close to -the Spanish frontier and amid the fascinating Basque country where the -people have retained all their primitive ways and quaint dress, Biarritz -makes an ideal center for one-day trips. The excursion which we enjoyed -most was to the Spanish resort of San Sebastian, a modern seaside town -where the king and queen pass the summer in their splendid Villa -Miramar. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A DAY IN SPAIN - - -There is always a thrill about motoring for the first time in a new -country. We had long looked forward to crossing the Spanish frontier and -visiting the summer capital of King Alfonso XIII. It was a ride of about -thirty miles, far too short for one of the most interesting sweeps of -country to be found anywhere in Europe. - -There was plenty of variety. This Basque country, forming a triangular -corner of northern Spain and reaching over into France, is full of it. -The people speak a dialect which is as much a puzzle to Spanish as to -French. Until less than half a century ago, they had retained their -independence. Proud of their history, and claiming to be the oldest race -in Europe, they still cling to their language and hold to their ancient -customs, their dances, songs, and pastoral plays. In this region of -valleys and mountains we were always within sight or sound of the sea, -the road approaching a smooth, white beach washed with foam, or sinking -into a quiet valley drowsy with the faint monotone of the waves. - -A few miles before reaching Spain is the old seaside town of St. -Jean-de-Luz, once the winter headquarters of Wellington and now buried -in the shade of its venerable trees. The life in this little village of -only four thousand people was not always so simple as it is now. Louis -XIV was a frequent visitor, with his courtiers. One can see the château -where the "Grand Monarque" lodged at the time of his marriage to the -Infanta Marie Thérèse of Spain on June 9, 1660. Another page from this -gorgeous period is the church of St. Jean Baptiste, where the ceremony -took place. Following the Basque custom, the upper galleries are -reserved for the men, while the area below is reserved for the women. - -On reaching the Franco-Spanish frontier village of Béhobie a French -officer appeared and, after he had entered the necessary details in his -book, allowed us to cross the bridge over the Bidassoa River into Spain. -This part of the town is called Béhobeia. It is a unique arrangement, -this administration of what is practically one and the same town by two -different countries. Yet the difference between Béhobie and Béhobeia is -as great as the difference between France and Spain. The houses across -the river began to display the most lively colors. It would have been -hard to say whether browns, pinks, blues, or greens predominated. Some -of the people wore blue shoes. Red caps were the style for cab drivers. -Of course we looked around for some of our "castles in Spain," but saw -instead the Spanish customhouse. An official came out, modestly arrayed -in more than Solomon's glory. He wore red trousers, yellow hose, and -blue shoes, and looked as though in more prosperous days he might have -been a _matador_. We had forgotten to bring along a fluent supply of -Spanish. The oversight caused us no inconvenience. French is sufficient -to carry one through any matter of official red tape. - -One hears many reports about the difficulty of passing the Spanish -customhouse, the severity of the examination, of the long delays. At our -hotel in Biarritz they told us that the only safe way would be to pay -eight francs to a private company on the French side of the frontier, -and that with the _passavant_ so obtained, together with our -_triptyque_, we would not only secure prompt service but also make this -company responsible for our safety while in Spain. So much solicitude -made us wonder just what percentage of our eight francs would be -received by this hotel proprietor, so we decided to cross the frontier -without the much advised _passavant_. - -These warnings proved to be exaggerated. The delay was not greater than -it would have been in France or Germany. The _douaniers_ were, -nevertheless, keenly alert to prevent the smuggling of motor supplies -for purposes of sale in Spain. These articles are much more expensive in -Spain than elsewhere in Europe. The number of our tires was noted, so -that the officials could make sure that we carried the same number of -tires out of the country. Another arrangement, new to us, was the method -of ascertaining how much the gasoline duty would be. The amount of -gasoline in the tank was calculated by depth only and not by capacity. - -A hundred fascinating scenes of Spanish country life attracted our -attention. Peasant women, evidently returning from market, bestraddled -patient little donkeys, or walked, balancing on their heads burdens of -various kinds. One of them carried a baby under one arm, a pail filled -with wine bottles under the other, and all the time preserved with her -head the equilibrium of a basket piled several stories high with -household articles. We would not have been greatly surprised to see -another baby tucked away somewhere in the top story. These peasant types -looked bent and worn, their wrinkled faces old from drudging toil in the -fields; they fitted in perfectly with the dilapidated farmhouses. The -country was fertile, with vineyards and cornfields, but a prosperity in -such contrast with the wretched homes of the people. Little donkeys -strained in front of heavily loaded wagons that would have taxed the -strength of a large horse. The ox carts were curious creations, the -wheels being without spokes, as though made from a single piece of flat -board. The small chimneys on the houses resembled those which we had -seen in Italy. We did not see a single plow, not even a wooden one; the -peasants of the Basque country use instead the _laga_, or digging -fork, an implement shaped like the letter "h." - -[Illustration: _The ox-carts were curious creations_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -San Sebastian is a clean, fresh-looking city, a place essentially, -almost exaggeratedly, Spanish, with all that gayety and vivid -architecture which one naturally expects to see in a place patronized by -the royal court. It was hopeless to think of finding a place for our car -in any garage. They were all full. This was the day of the bull fight. -From different parts of Spain, as well as from France, motorists had -swarmed in to see the _matadors_ show their skill and daring. In Spain -the people divert themselves at the bull fight very much as we would go -to see a baseball game. We saw motor cars stationed in long files in the -streets. - -Leaving our car to stand in the rear of one of these imposing lines, we -strolled down a bright, picturesque street to the Concha. Just as La -Grande Plage represents Biarritz, so the Concha represents San -Sebastian. "Concha" suggests a bay shaped like a shell. The word exactly -describes the beautiful body of water around which the city is built. -Through the narrow channel we could see the waves roll in, contracted -at first, then widening as they sweep down the bay to break on the long, -curving stretch of yellow sand. From the Concha we could see the white -walls of the royal Villa Miramar. The fortress La Mota guarded from its -high elevation the narrow entrance to the harbor. We walked along the -Paseo de la Concha, in the dense shade of tamarisk trees which nearly -encircled the bay. Sitting in chairs under the trees were Spanish girls, -their dark eyes glowing through their black lace veils. The scene was -full of color, completely Spanish, the green of the tamarisks shining -between the golden sands and the white villas which edged the water. We -watched the bathers, haughty dons from Madrid and peasants from Aragon, -for the moment on a level in the joyous democracy of the surf. - -After lunching at the Continental Hotel, fronting on the Concha, we -turned our steps in the direction of the amphitheater, where the bull -fight was to take place. The tickets cost twelve _pesetas_ (about $2.40) -apiece. It was not with any anticipation of pleasure that we decided to -watch the Spaniards engage in their national sport. The bull fight is a -combination of a scene from the Chicago stockyards and from an ancient -Roman arena. It is a succession of shivers and thrills, from the first -blast of the trumpet announcing the entry of the _toreadors_ to the -final _estocade_, when the last bull falls dying upon the bloody sand. -Few of the _toreadors_ die a natural death. Connected with the large -amphitheater is the operating room, where the wounded fighters can -receive prompt treatment. We were told that it is customary for them to -receive the sacrament before entering into the arena. Their coolness and -dexterity in sidestepping the mad rushes of the bull are wonderful. But -the moment comes when the bull is unexpectedly quick, when the foot -slips just a little, or when the eye misjudges the precious fraction of -an inch which may mean life or death. We noticed at regular intervals, -around the arena, wooden barriers, placed just far enough from the main -encircling barrier to let the hard-pressed _toreador_ slip in, when -there was no time to vault. - -These exhibitions take place all over Spain, and in San Sebastian at -least once a week. There is keen rivalry between Spanish cities over -the skill of their _toreadors_. Bull fighting is not on the decline. The -city of Cordova has just started a school for the training of -professional bull fighters. - -When we arrived the amphitheater was crowded to the highest tier of -seats. The vast crowd, impatient, whistled and shouted. Attendants -passed among the spectators, selling Spanish fans painted with -bull-fight scenes. The large orchestra was playing. Suddenly, above the -music and the noise of the crowds, sounded the piercing blast of a -trumpet. The music ceased. The crowd became silent, then cheered and -clapped as doors swung open and two horsemen dashed out and made the -tour of the arena. They were followed by a procession of _toreadors_, -_picadores_, and _banderilleros_, with their attendants. The _picadores_ -were armed with long pikes with which to enrage the bull. They were -mounted on wretched skeletons of so-called horses, with one eye -blindfolded. Six bulls were to battle with their tormentors before -finally falling, pierced by the _toreador's_ sword. Three or four horses -are usually killed by each bull. The _banderilleros_ appear in the -second phase of the struggle, after the horses have been killed. They -are on foot. Their work is to face the bull, infuriated by the pikes of -the _picadores_, and to plant in his neck several darts, each over two -feet long and decorated with ribbons. The _toreador_ comes on the scene -the last of all, when the bull, though tired, is still dangerous. It -would be a mistake to imagine that the bulls are spiritless, or have -been so starved that they are weak, without strength, energy, and -courage. These animals that we saw leap into the arena were all -specially bred Andalusian bulls, the very picture of strength and wild -ferocity. - -We have no desire to describe in detail the barbarous spectacle which -followed. In front of us sat an American couple. It was the lady's first -bull fight, and when the moment was critical, the scene a gory confusion -of bull, horses, and _picadores_, she would scream and hide her face -behind her fan. In contrast, were the Spanish girls seated around us. -Their faces were whitened more by powder than by emotion. They would -languidly move embroidered fans, or wave them with gentle enthusiasm -when the _banderillero_ planted a daring dart or the _toreador_ thrust -home the death stroke. - -There was one moment in that exhibition, however, when even their -hardened indifference to suffering was touched. One of the -_banderilleros_ planted his dart in the neck of the bull, but slipped -while trying to get away from the enraged beast. There was a cry of -horror, a groan of pity from the crowd as the great armed head lifted -its victim and hurled him thirty feet through the air. The man struck -heavily on the sand, moved a little, and then lay motionless. There was -no shouting at that moment. An agony of suspense pervaded the -amphitheater. But the bull was given no opportunity to follow up his -attack; a _toreador_ waved a red cape before his eyes; another dart was -planted in his neck. He turned savagely to face and charge on his new -assailants, who nimbly avoided his rush. The wounded man was carried -from the arena. The enthusiasm and cheers of the crowd were unbounded -when he revived and struggled with the attendants to get back into the -arena. - -[Illustration: _The death stroke_ - -Copyright by Underwood & Underwood] - -After all, human nature has changed but little under these southern -skies, so that what the plebeian sought in the gladiatorial combats of -the amphitheater, the Spaniard or Frenchman of to-day seeks and finds in -the bloody scenes of the _course de tauraux_. - -We left early to get a start of the rush of motor cars for the French -frontier, but others had done the same thing, so that by the time the -Spanish authorities had stamped our _sortie definitive_, we found the -international bridge filled with cars, all impatiently waiting to take -their turn at the French _douane_. Then amid a whirl of dust and a -blowing of horns, car after car leaped for the homeward flight. Ahead of -us and behind us, cars of every make, motor horns of every variety. The -dust fog was continuous. Every one seemed racing to get out of it. It -was a likely place for an accident. There was the wind-smothered shriek -of a horn as a French racer shot by to lead the exciting procession. -Farther ahead, the road turned sharply, and we stopped to find thirty or -forty cars held up at a railway crossing. One of them was the French -racer; officers were taking her number. It was growing dark, and we -lighted our lamps. Looking back from the summit of a long hill, we could -see the lights of other cars swiftly ascending around the curves. The -wind was rising. Through the twilight came the dull roaring of heavy -surf. A revolving beacon light, appearing and then disappearing, -announced that we were once more in Biarritz. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -BIARRITZ TO MONT-DE-MARSAN - - -Our three days in Biarritz had grown to three short weeks before we were -able to break the spell of the alluring Grande Plage and shape our -course in a northeasterly direction, along the foothills of the -Pyrenees, through the picturesque regions of Périgord and Limousin to -Tours and the châteaux country. Bayonne, the fortress city, looked -peaceful enough with its tapering cathedral spires rising above the -great earthen ramparts, now grass-grown and long disused to war. Not far -from Bayonne the road forked; we were in doubt whether to continue -straight on or to turn to the left. A group of workingmen near by ceased -their toil as we drew near to ask for information. The answer to our -question was very different from what we expected. One of them -approached the car, brandishing a scythe in a manner more hostile than -friendly, and asked if we were Germans. This question concerning our -nationality came with all the force of a threat. The restless scythe -cut a nearer airy swath. He had recognized the German make of our car, -and was convinced that we belonged to the hated _nation allemande_. A -German motor car is not the safest kind of an introduction to these -French peasants, especially when the _vin du pays_ has circulated -freely. If appearances counted for anything, this particular peasant was -quite inclined to use his scythe for more warlike purposes than those -for which it was originally intended. But his companions, more peaceably -disposed, seizing him, drew him back from the car and gave us, although -reluctantly, the necessary information. - -It was not our first experience of this kind. In France there is a -strong sentiment against Germany. Our German car was often the target -for unfriendly observation. This fierce ill feeling appears to be -increasing. Never since the war of 1870 has there been such a period of -military activity in the two countries. Germany is raising her army to a -total of nearly nine hundred thousand men, at an initial cost of two -hundred and fifty million dollars, and a subsequent annual cost of fifty -million dollars. France has decided to meet these warlike preparations -by keeping under the colors for another year the soldiers whose term of -service would have expired last fall. This measure adds about two -hundred thousand soldiers to the fighting strength of the French army. -This increase of armament involves necessarily the admission of the -increase of suspicion and antagonism. - -At such a time of tension and suspense it was for us a rare privilege to -motor through the French provinces, to stop in the small towns and -villages and to hear from the lips of the people themselves an -expression of their attitude toward Germany. Rural France is -conservative; opinions and ideas form slowly, yet there can be no doubt -but that their views represent the sentiment of the French nation which -is so largely agricultural. No feature of our long tour through France -was more instructive than this opportunity to study at first hand the -influences at work to widen the gulf between the two nations. We -conversed with soldiers, officers, peasants in the fields, and casual -French acquaintances whom we met in the cafés and hotels. Every one -admitted the gravity of the situation, and said that nothing short of -the actual shadow of German invasion could have induced France to submit -to the tremendous sacrifices incident to the large increase of the army. - -The enthusiasm with which France has consented to the enormous -sacrifices entailed by increasing the army on so large a scale shows how -widespread is the impression of impending conflict. France realizes that -there is only one way to prevent war, and that is to be so strong that -Germany will hesitate to take the fatal step. There have been past -menaces of invasion, and while it is true that Germany has not made war -for over forty years, she has repeatedly threatened it. William I and -Moltke wanted to attack France in 1874 and again in 1875, before she had -recovered from the effects of 1870, to make it impossible for her again -to become a power of the first rank. Russia and England supported -France; Germany drew back to wait for another chance. Professor -Lamprecht, the great German historian, regrets that Germany did not -hurl her armies against France at that time. In the Delcassé crisis of -1905 France was again threatened. We know now that the Morocco -negotiations between France and Germany in 1911 kept Europe on the verge -of war for months. - -This movement toward a more vigorous expression of French national -spirit, while gathering strength for the last ten years, actually dates -from the sending of the gunboat _Panther_ to Agadir in 1911. This was -the igniting spark. It was in that moment that the French nation found -itself. The generation that lived through and followed the disastrous -war of 1870 was saddened and subdued. There was little of that spirit of -national self-confidence; politics played a larger role than patriotism. -But now a new generation is to the front. Young France is coming into -power, and the result is a rebirth of self-confidence and aggressiveness -along patriotic lines. It will no longer be possible for Germany to be -successful in a policy of intimidation against France, as she was in the -Congress of Berlin in 1878. The new France is too patriotic, too proud, -too conscious of her own strength, to concede to any unreasonable demand -for economic compensation that Germany or Austria might make. - -If there were no other reason for possibility of war, the internal -situation in Germany itself would be enough to place France on her -guard. In spite of Germany's industrial progress, the struggle of the -masses for bread is nowhere more bitter. The intense competition in the -markets of the world, the necessity of paying interest on borrowed -capital, the fact of a vast and rapidly increasing population--all this -spells low wages in a country where taxes are high and where the burdens -of armament are fast becoming unbearable. Such conditions make for -socialism. Already the socialists form the most powerful party in the -Reichstag. The Kaiser wishes peace, but he is, above all, a believer in -monarchical institutions. If socialism continues to spread with its -present rapidity, no one doubts that he would stake Germany's supremacy -in a foreign war in order to unite the nation around him and to divert -the people from their struggle for a more democratic form of -government. A successful war with France would not only mean rich -provinces, a big war indemnity, but it would also mean a new prestige -for the Hohenzollern government, sufficient to carry it through the -socialistic perils of another generation. - -In view of these facts, it is not surprising that the French nation -considers a conflict inevitable, and especially when they see the Kaiser -appealing to his already overtaxed and discontented people to make a -supreme sacrifice. With Germany the question is one of economic -existence. She can feed her population for only a fraction of a year. -More and more she finds herself dependent upon rival nations for -foodstuffs and raw materials. She has built up great steel and iron -industries, but the supply of ore in the province of Silesia will be -exhausted, at the present rate of consumption, in about twenty-five -years. Germany will then be totally dependent upon France, Spain, and -Sweden for iron ore. But France has an eighty per cent superiority over -Spain and Sweden in her supply of this material. Her richest mines are -situated in Basse-Lorraine, hardly more than a cannon shot from the -German frontier. By the conquest of a few miles in Lorraine, she would -secure enough iron ore to supply her iron and steel industries for -centuries. A suggestive commentary upon Germany's aggressive plans may -be noted in the German atlas of Steiler. It writes the names of -different countries and their cities in the spelling of each country. -The French cities and provinces are written in French, with the -exception of provinces of Basse-Lorraine, Franche-Comté, and Bourgogne. -These are written in German. - -Another force in Germany making for war is the Pan-German League. This -is the war party of the armor-plate factories of the officers of the -army and navy, of a large part of the German press, of the Crown Prince, -of many who have intimate relations with the Kaiser. The spectacular -demonstrations of the Crown Prince in the Reichstag against the too -peaceful policy of the Chancellor at the time of the Morocco -negotiations, the sending of the _Panther_ to Agadir, the enormous -increase of the army and navy in recent years, the arbitrary suppression -of French influence in Alsace-Lorraine, have all been the fruits of its -efforts. There can be no question of the tremendous power of this -organization which is so close to the heart of the Crown Prince. If the -Kaiser should die to-morrow, France might well have reason to distrust -the warlike and impulsive young ruler who would ascend the Hohenzollern -throne. The Crown Prince has recently written a book called _Germany in -Arms_. Its warlike fervor shows how little he is in sympathy with the -emperor's loyalty to peace. What makes the influence of the Crown Prince -all the more dangerous is the great discontent to-day in Germany with -the government's foreign policy "of spending hundreds of millions upon a -fruitless and pacific imperialism." - -Added to all these influences which are straining the relations between -France and Germany, is the question of Alsace-Lorraine, for more than -two centuries a French province and ceded to Germany after the -Franco-Prussian War as a part of the price of peace. It is now a -generation and more that Germany has tried to assimilate the province, -but with so little success that to-day the people persist more than ever -in their sympathy with French culture and their hostility toward -Germany. There has been immigration; probably two fifths of the -population are Germans, but the two peoples do not mix. The silent -struggle between two civilizations goes on. The reason for the failure -of German government in Alsace-Lorraine is due to its refusal to -recognize this dual civilization. Alsace is largely French in sympathy; -but instead of letting the people cling to their local customs, Germany -has tried to make them think and speak German, and adopt the German -ways. Instead of enjoying an equality with the other states in the -regulation of local affairs, the province is treated as a vassal state, -the governor being responsible to the Kaiser. Naturally such a system of -government means the continual clash of the two nationalities. The -teaching of French and French history has been almost suppressed in the -schools, and the younger generation compelled to learn German. "But -they are French at heart, and after leaving school return again to the -traditions of their family. After forty years, no music stirs them like -the _Marseillaise_." It is said that the little Alsatian schoolboys, -when on a trip to the frontier, decorate their hats and buttonholes with -the French colors. No one can be long in Strassburg without realizing -the futility of Germany's campaign against French influence. It is true -that there is a certain veneer of German civilization; the policemen -wear the same uniform as the Berlin police; German names appear over the -principal shops; but in the stores and cafés one hears the middle-class -Alsatians speaking French; French clothes, French customs prevail. In a -word, the people, without French support, have gradually become more -French in feeling and in culture than at the moment of annexation. One -effect of this struggle against Germany's brutal and arbitrary policy -has been to start a strong undercurrent of sympathy in France. In many -of the French towns one sees Alsace postcards in the store windows. The -picture on one card was a reproduction of a French painting. A soldier -appears on the lookout in a forest. Not far away is a captive bound to -a tree. He is watching with expectant joy the coming of the soldier. One -can easily guess that the captive is Alsace, the soldier, France. We -might also speak of the petty annoyances practiced by the German -authorities in Alsace upon any one suspected of French sympathy. -Sporting clubs have been dissolved. One reads of French sportsmen who -have been refused permission to rent "shootings." The most recent -measure of oppression gives the governor of the province absolute power -to suppress all French newspapers, as well as all societies supposed to -favor French culture. - -This is only a part of the evidence at hand, which gives the impartial -observer reason to believe that the friction of nationalities in Alsace -is the prelude to the larger and more terrible struggle to-day is -regarded in France as inevitable. At the School of Political Science in -the sorbonne at Paris, where the superiority of German methods used to -be accepted without question, it is said the professors can now hardly -mention them, for fear of hostile demonstrations. - -This question of Franco-German relations has already overshadowed -Europe. All attempts to promote a more friendly understanding have been -fruitless. Even though the present tension be only temporary, it is very -doubtful if there can be any approach to better relations until Germany -has solved the question of Alsace-Lorraine, abandoning her policy of -rough-shod assimilation, recognizing the existence of a dual -civilization, granting autonomy of local affairs, and welcoming the -province, on an equal footing with the other German states, to the -brotherhood of the empire. With this source of discord removed, -Alsace-Lorraine might become a bond instead of a barrier between France -and Germany. Such a solution, however remote, would be an important step -toward a more auspicious era of friendly feeling, of good faith. -Unfortunately, the Kaiser is opposed to this conciliatory policy. The -fact that Alsace-Lorraine belongs to the empire as a whole, and is -therefore a bond of unity between the German states, makes him unwilling -to disturb the present arrangement and to recognize anything approaching -a dual government in Alsace-Lorraine. - -In the light of the above facts, our encounter with the French peasant -was of deep significance. We could see behind it the forces--economic, -political, and sentimental--that are at work to divide France and -Germany. Naturally, we were on the lookout for any incident of this kind -which would give us a clearer view of the great question which is -placing such terrible burdens upon the two countries. - -We shall not easily forget our experience in one French town. It was -Sunday evening, and the street was crowded with peasants and artisans. -One of us had stuck in his hat a Swiss feather, such as is commonly worn -in the Tyrol of southern Germany. He purchased a French newspaper, and -after glancing through it, dropped it in the gutter. This harmless act -very nearly involved us in serious trouble. A burly Frenchman, noticing -the feather and taking him for a German, resented the apparently -contemptuous way in which the journal had been thrown in the street. -"_Vous avez insulté la patrie_," he said in a loud voice. Like a flash -the rumor spread in the street that three Germans had insulted -France, and a threatening crowd surrounded us. A restaurant offering the -nearest refuge, we stepped inside to order _une demi-tasse_ and to wait -until the excitement had subsided. The _garcon_ refused to serve us. -Outside, the crowd grew larger. Then a policeman appeared. Upon learning -that we were Americans, he quickly appreciated the humor of the -situation, and explained the misunderstanding to the crowd pressing -around the door. The excitement abated as quickly as it arose, and we -were allowed to continue our walk without further interruption. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_A familiar village scene in provincial France_ _page 157_] - -Mont-de-Marsan has little to relieve the monotony of its narrow village -life. We bumped over cobbled streets to the Hôtel Richelieu, securing -pleasant rooms which opened on an attractive little court, enlivened by -a murmuring fountain. Dinner was hardly over when the silence of the -country began to settle along the deserted streets. Such a soporific -environment was sleep-compelling. An alarm clock was not necessary, for -at early dawn the street resounded with a medley of noises, the varied -repertoire of the barnyard,--a hundred of them, in fact. Geese, -chickens, goats, and sheep were all tuning up for the village fair. It -is a mystery how we motored through that maze of poultry and small -wooden stands heaped with fruits, poultry, game, even dry goods--a kind -of open-air department store. The clerks were grizzled peasant women, -some of them eating their breakfast of grapes and dry bread, others -displaying tempting fruit to entice us into a purchase. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -MONT-DE-MARSAN TO PÉRIGUEUX - - -Motoring on to St. Justin, we plunged into an immense forest broken only -now and then by small clearings and extending for nearly sixty miles to -the lumber town of Casteljaloux. Woodland depths shut out the view. Mile -followed mile of dark pines and somber perspective, an endless -succession of dim forest glades. The sappers were at their work, peeling -the bark from the long trunks and attaching small earthenware cups to -catch the resinous gum. The road was so easy and smooth that we did not -find it difficult to take notes. From the lumber yards of Casteljaloux -was blown the fragrant odor of fresh-sawn pine. Bright sunshine flooded -the wide-open country. The freedom of the fields was around us again. -Here and there a maple showed the first gorgeous colors of autumn. - -In the enjoyment of these peaceful scenes we ran unexpectedly through an -encampment of French soldiers. The army was getting ready for the -autumn maneuvers. Rifles were stacked, and heavy accouterments deposited -on the grass. There were three or four large Paris omnibuses transformed -into kitchens, motor-propelled and equal to a speed of twenty miles an -hour. Soldiers and officers watched us curiously, almost suspiciously. -Our notebooks were hastily put aside. To be detected taking notes from a -German motor car in a French encampment might have had unpleasant -consequences, or at least subjected us to serious inconvenience. One of -the officers took our number; another "snapped" us with a camera, but -there was no attempt to interfere with our progress. - -The infantry wore long blue coats and red trousers. One wonders why the -French army, otherwise so scientifically equipped, should have such -showy uniforms. If France went to war to-morrow, her soldiers would be -at a great disadvantage. These uniforms would be a conspicuous target at -the farthest rifle range. All other modern armies, like those of -Germany, England, or Italy, have adopted the "invisible" field dress. -But in France the colors have not changed from the blue and red of -Napoleon's soldiers. A few years ago the War Minister Berteaux tried to -introduce a uniform of green material. His efforts were without success; -the old color tradition was too strong. A French officer commented as -follows: "The French army is one of the most routine-bound in Europe. In -some things, like flying, we have a lead, because civilians have done -all the preliminary work, but in purely military matters, like uniforms, -officialdom delays reform at every turn. It was not until 1883 that we -gave up wearing the gaiters and shoes of Napoleon's time, and took to -boots like other armies." Even the officers whom we saw from our motor -car were dressed in scarlet and gold, red breeches, and sky-blue tunics -with gold braid. - -A little farther on we passed several motor cars filled with French -officers; just behind them came a dozen Berliet trucks of a heavy -military type, loaded with meat and ammunition. These are the times of -motor war. The automobile has revolutionized the old method of food -supply. The long, slow train of transport wagons, unwieldy and drawn by -horses, has been replaced by swift motor trucks. The French army is -unsurpassed in mechanical equipment. No effort has been spared to give -the army the full benefit of technical and scientific improvements. This -year, for the first time, the Paris motor omnibuses are serving as -meat-delivery vans. With this innovation, the army can have fresh meat -every morning, instead of the canned meats of other years. The supply -stations can be, in safety, thirty miles from the front, and yet remain -in effective communication with the troops. France is in grim earnest. -The army is ready and competent. The terrible lessons of the -Franco-Prussian war of 1870 have been learned. - -A French officer with whom we conversed on the subject of the French and -German armies, spoke of the superiority of the French artillery over -German guns in the recent Balkan war. He said that the French were -counting upon their great advantage in this respect to offset the German -superiority in numbers. Commenting on the wish of the Kaiser to visit -Paris, he was quite sure that the Kaiser would never repeat the -performance of his grandfather, Emperor William I, and arrive in -Paris at the head of the German army. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_A miracle of Gothic splendor_] - -Our lunch in Marmande reminded us of a banquet, but we were not yet -French enough to do full justice to three kinds of meat. France is -essentially a country of fields and gardens. How we looked forward to -every _déjeuner_ and every _dîner_ so bountifully spread with the famous -products of her soil! The cuisine of these small towns would not suffer -in comparison with the hotels of larger cities. One is served more -generously for half the price, and the cooking is just as good. - -A delightful succession of little foreign touches brightened the ride -from Marmande,--the sluggish bullock carts, and vineyards interspersed -with tobacco fields, small churches with bell cotes guarded by solemn, -century-old cypress trees; or perhaps it was an old Gothic house or an -ancient gateway with a piece of mediæval wall still clinging to it. In -one village we saw bizarre stores, where the doorway and window were -one. This must be a survival of Roman times, because we had seen the -same thing in Pompeii. We were quickly called back from antiquity, -however, by the cement telegraph poles which lined the road for some -miles. It was a surprise to see such evidence of progress in a region -where the years leave so few traces of their march. - -By this time the weather had become the chief topic of conversation. A -storm was swiftly approaching. Tall cypress trees creaked and swayed in -the wind; the dark clouds, nearly above us, shot out murky, ominous -streamers, like the tentacles of a gigantic octopus; a few big drops -fell; then the floodgates burst. The drenching downpour was so sudden -that there was no time to put up the top of the car. A tall tree offered -refuge, but soon each separate leaf had a tiny waterfall of its own. -Fortune did not entirely desert us, for a small farmhouse, near by, -promised a more substantial shelter. It was just the kind of peasant's -home that we had often seen from the roadside: an exterior of rustic -quaintness, built of stone and rough timbers, and artistically framed in -rustic vines and flowers. What would the interior look like? We knocked. -A barefooted peasant woman opened the door. She was surprised to see -three dripping apparitions, apparently swept in by the rage of the -elements, but her invitation to enter could not have been more cordial. -The "_salon_" served the purposes of kitchen, bedchamber, and dining -room. There was no trace of carpet or rug on the cobble-stoned floor. -The heap of straw in the corner did not disclose whether it was for dog -or goat. On the wall hung a cheap color-print of Napoleon. The -hospitable "_Asseyez-vous_" called our attention to a single decrepit -chair. There was not even a wooden table. The rain, pattering down the -chimney, had almost extinguished the blaze in the small open fireplace. -Could anything have been more barren or forlorn! Judging from the -appearance of our _hôtesse_, the bathtub either did not exist or had -long since ceased to figure prominently in the domestic life of the -household. Two other peasant women of the same neglected appearance -entered without knocking. One of them was barefooted; the other would -have been if she had not worn heavy _sabots_. Both of them greeted us, -but their dialect was unintelligible. The sun coming out we said -good-by with all the polite French phrases at our command. The three -peasant women stood in the doorway and waved their ragged aprons till we -disappeared over the hill. - -The bridge spanning the Dordogne into cheerful Bergerac showed a town -busy with festal preparation for the coming of President Poincaré. Pine -branches were being wound around telephone poles; festoons of green -decorated the houses; windows were bright with flags; the streets -overhung with arches bearing inscriptions of welcome. We stopped at a -tea shop which was also a _boulangerie_. - -It was interesting to discover, from the local papers, that our route -for the next two days was to be part of the itinerary selected by -President Poincaré for his tour through the French provinces. - -This trip resulted from the president's desire to know his people -better, to become acquainted with their local life, to visit their -industries, and especially to attract the attention of the motor world -to beautiful and interesting regions of France which had too long been -neglected,--these slumberous small towns of the Dordogne, Limousin and -Périgord, hidden from the broad travel track, rich in local traditions -and peculiarities, wrapped in their old-world atmosphere, surrounded by -exquisite landscapes with marvelous horizons. For these towns, the -president's coming was a big event. Some of them recalled that since the -days of Louis XI no ruler of the state had visited their village. - -We were to see Périgueux, with its precious relics of Roman life and of -the Middle Ages; Limoges, noted for its beautiful enamels and the center -of the porcelain industry. It was this part of France, so little visited -even by the French themselves, that President Poincaré chose for his -week of motoring. For him, as well as for us, it was to be a delightful -voyage of discovery. - -The twenty-nine miles to Périgueux proved a memorable motor experience. -Much of the way was among steep, tree-covered slopes. No one met us -along the road. - -It is surprising how far one can motor in France without seeing any -trace of human life; areas of deserted country are so common; abandoned -farmhouses appear so frequently. The reason lies not alone in the drift -of population to the larger towns and cities, but in the fact that the -French birth rate is failing to hold its own. France, so rich in other -respects, is actually threatened by a decreasing population. In 1911 the -number of deaths exceeded the number of births by 33,800. In the first -third of the last century, when the death rate was much higher than now, -there were six births to every death; in 1871 the ratio had fallen to -two births to each death; in 1901 it was even. If we consider the number -of births per 10,000 inhabitants during the decades of the last century, -we find the series to be an invariably decreasing one--from 323 in 1800 -to 222 in 1900. In 1870 Germany and France had each about 38,000,000. -Germany now has over 67,000,000, a gain of 27,000,000 over the present -French population of 39,340,000. France is thus placed at a great -disadvantage in the matter of national defense. If we assume the German -army to be only 750,000 soldiers, there would be one soldier to every 89 -inhabitants; France, to have the same army, would be obliged to have one -soldier to every 52 or 53 inhabitants. The fact that the French -soldiers will now be compelled to serve three years in the army, as -compared with two years in Germany, shows how France is now paying the -penalty for neglecting that vital national problem of population. - -Our ride to Périgueux gave vivid emphasis to the above figures. There -was little evidence of peasant life. One had the impression of roaming -through a vast, uninhabited country. - -From the top of a hill the town, and the valley of the Isle, stretched -beneath us a lovely view; the windings of the river Isle, its bridges -mirrored in the crimson flood. Wooded hills faded slowly into the blue -depths of twilight. The graceful Byzantine _campanile_ and domes of St. -Front reminded us of the church of St. Marks in Venice. Europe has few -more romantic corners. Descending the hill, we motored over the river -and into the town, under arches of electric lights arranged in letters -to spell words of greeting to the president. - -The Grand Hôtel du Commerce should have been torn down years ago. It was -a good example of how poor a provincial hotel can be. Even the -recommendation of the Touring Club of France could not make us forget -the musty smells that filled rooms and corridors. We opened wide all the -windows. After a few minutes, the fresh air revived us. - -For a place that occupies so little space in the pages of Baedeker, -Périgueux is unique. Numerous remains from the different epochs of -history may be found. The Roman period, the Middle Ages, the -Renaissance, and modern times have all left their imprint. There is the -massive tower of Vesône, once part of a Gallo-Roman temple. The Château -Barrière has one curious feature: a railroad runs through the deep moat -of feudal times. We shall need all our superlatives to describe the -Jardin des Arènes. Where else will you find a public garden laid out on -the site of an ancient Roman amphitheater, keeping the same size, the -same circular form, and even preserving some of the original arches to -admit the modern public? A French journalist once wrote that "even -without its bright sunlight, even without imagination, Périgueux remains -one of the quaintest towns in the world and one of those places which -the French people would visit in crowds if it were situated in another -country." Viewed from a distance, the cathedral of St. Front makes a -striking appearance; the five huge domes might have been transplanted -from St. Sophia of Constantinople. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -PÉRIGUEUX TO TOURS - - -From Périgueux we followed the Isle for some distance before turning to -wind over the hills. It was a region of chestnut trees, the -_marronniers_ for which the province is so celebrated. For miles the -trees formed a stately hedge along both sides of the highway, and groves -of them were in the near distance, their spreading branches reminding us -of English oaks. - -The ascent continued to Thivièrs, a tiny village of the Dordogne. One of -the _vieux citoyens_ pointed out the Hôtel de France as the best place -to lunch. "_On mange très bien lábas_," he said. The lunch was a _chef -d'oeuvre_. We had never tasted such _poulet au casserole_ or such -_cotelettes de mouton grillées_. The _lievre_ had a delicious _suc de -viande_ which went well with the _pommes frités_. There was _vin à -discrétion_, and, besides, different kinds of _fromage_ and the French -melons, golden and juicy and always the best part of the repast. - -Nothing is more delightfully characteristic of these small towns like -Thivièrs than the delicacies peculiar to them. These little communities, -so different from each other in local customs and mannerisms, are just -as unique and original in their cooking. It was always interesting, when -we had lunch or dinner in a new place, to scan the ménu for some new -dish that we had never tasted. Whenever the _garcon_ or _maître de -l'hôtel_ pointed to an item on the ménu and said, "_C'est une specialitè -de la maison_," then we knew that something good was coming. One never -tires of these French delicacies. Our regret at leaving them behind was -usually tempered by the consolation that something equally new and -delicious was awaiting us in the next place _en route_. Each one of the -following names recalls experiences that we shall not soon forget. These -are simply samples. The list would be too long if we named them all; the -_truites_ of Chambéry; the mushroom patties of Pierrelatte; the _jambon_ -of Bayonne; the _truffes_ of Périgueux; the _rillettes_ and _vins_ of -Tours; the _miel du Gatinais_ of Orléans; the fried sole of Chartres and -Dieppe. In Normandy, sweet cider was often placed on the table instead -of the mild _vin du pays_. The cheese, _patisserie_, and fruits were -good everywhere. - -Another item, which we cannot overlook, never appeared on the ménu and -yet always flavored the whole repast. That was the geniality, the -provincial hospitality, which greeted us in every little inn and hotel. -The welcome was just as hearty as the farewell. If there was some one -dish that we especially liked, the _patronne_ was never satisfied till -she was sure that we had been bountifully served. After so many -experiences like these, it is easy to understand why the foreign -motorist feels so much at home in France. - -It was a splendid run to Limoges. The long grades were scarcely -noticeable, the easy curves rarely making it necessary to check our -speed. Donkey carts were fashionable, and _sabots_, as usual, in style. -There was always a shining river or green valley in sight. Haute-Vienne, -arrayed in flags and evergreens, awaited the coming of the president. -Here, as all along the route, we saw the same joyful picture of festal -preparations. The bridge over the river Vienne was like a green arbor. - -Some of the worthy citizens of these communities were probably more -familiar with town affairs than the current events of the outer world. -We read in a local journal of a shopkeeper who shouted a lusty "_Vive -Faillières_," to greet the president's arrival. The mayor of one village -threw himself in front of the presidential car, and threatened to commit -suicide if the president did not make a speech, as he had done in a -neighboring town. These petty municipal jealousies gave us a picture of -France in miniature. What country is more torn by faction! Internal -dissension is the nation's peril. - -The river kept us company until Limoges was in sight. The president had -left the city only a few hours before our arrival. Decorations were -still in their splendor. One _arc de triomphe_ bore the words "_Vive -Poincaré_." Another read, "_Nos fleurs et nos coeurs_." This popular -ovation seems remarkable when we consider the strength of socialism in -France, and the fact that Limoges is a socialistic center. The mayor, a -socialist, refused to receive the president. The City Council was not -present at the festivities of welcome. Municipal buildings like the -Hôtel de Ville were not decorated. All this was in accordance with -instructions received from the leaders of the socialistic party. It was -even considered unsafe for the president to include Limoges in his -itinerary. But the people, the wage earners, the various trade -organizations, acted for themselves. Their spontaneous, enthusiastic -greeting was all the more striking in contrast with the cold -indifference of the city authorities. To be in an important French city -at just this time, on the very day when the president was there, to see -all the preparations for his welcome, to hear the people talk about him -and praise him, made us feel that we had been close indeed to one of the -great personalities of modern Europe. France has found her leader, a man -of vast energy who understands his country's problems and is peculiarly -fitted to solve them. His motor tour through the provinces was like a -triumphal march. Everywhere he preached that gospel of unity which is -the great need of the hour. - -Thanks to a letter of introduction, we had the interesting privilege of -visiting a porcelain factory and of seeing the different processes -through which the product passes from the shapeless lump of clay to the -final touch of the artist's brush. The city reflects the artistic spirit -of its inhabitants. One notices many attractive garden plots and window -gardens, and the beauty of the flowers appears in their art. These -artists can reproduce them in porcelain and enamel because first of all -they have painted them in their hearts. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_A convenient way to carry bread_] - -After Limoges, came Tours as the goal of the day's run through the -pastoral beauties of Limousin to the châteaux of Touraine. The air was -crisp and clear. Two hours of easy running through the bright September -sunshine brought us to the Palais Hôtel in Poitiers before -noon--Poitiers, the city of old Romanesque churches and older -traditions, where are living so many of the _vieille noblesse_ who would -rather eat dry bread than make their sons work. The echoes of Parisian -rush do not penetrate these quiet streets. The people drink _tilleul_ -after lunch instead of coffee. The effect is to make them drowsy. In -fact, we have seldom visited a place with such an atmosphere of -slumber. After lunch the _patronne_ offered to show us some of the -hotel rooms. Most of them were connected with a private _salle de bain_. -The price was so reasonable that we at once placed this hotel in a class -by itself. As before stated, bathrooms do not enter largely into the -life of the French home or hotel. Even in cities like Tours, the public -bathtub still makes its round from house to house once a week, or once a -month as the case may be. An Englishman, who so often places cleanliness -above godliness, is unable to understand this French indifference to the -blessings of hot and cold water. In Lyons, the third largest city of -France, there is a popular saying that only millionaires have the _salle -de bain_ in their homes. These facts will help to explain why the Hôtel -Palais, with its many bathrooms, made such an impression on us. We -regret that our snapshot of this hotel did not turn out well. We would -have had it enlarged and framed. - -From Poitiers to Tours one is on the famous Route Nationale No. 10, that -remarkable highway which Napoleon built across France into Spain when -his soldiers made the long march only to meet defeat in the Peninsular -campaign. We had followed it from Bayonne to Biarritz and on to San -Sebastian. To see this familiar sign again seemed like the greeting of -an old friend. It looks like an army road, the trees are planted with -such military precision. One could almost feel the measured step to -martial music. This straight-away stretch for so many miles through the -country suggested the great soldier himself. Like his strategy, there -was no unnecessary swerving. It was the shortest practicable line to the -enemy's battle front. These magnificent _routes nationales_ are the best -illustration of the order and system that he gave to French life. We -have often thought too much emphasis has been laid on the destructive -side of Napoleon's career. He shook Europe, but Europe needed to be -shaken. The divine-right-of-kings theory needed to be shattered. France -needed to be centralized. If our motoring in that country had been -limited to Route Nationale No. 10, this would have been enough to give -us a new appreciation of Napoleon as a constructive force. - -The afternoon's ride flew all too quickly. It was glorious, as evening -approached, to watch the harvest moon growing brighter and larger on our -right, while the sunset fires slowly changed from burning colors to -dusky gray. Tours was in sight, Tours on the Loire, names that we had -always linked with the châteaux of Touraine. A multitude of lights -gleamed from the plain below. Descending the hill, we crossed the Loire -to the Hôtel Metropole. - -Tours was not what we had anticipated. One reads about the kings of -France who resided here, from Louis IX to François I. Plundering -Visigoths, ravaging Normans, Catholics and Huguenots, even the Germans -in 1870, all in their turn assailed the unfortunate city. We looked for -half-ruined palaces and vine-covered, crumbling walls. The reality -spread a different picture. Aside from the streets and houses of -mediæval Tours, little remains of great historic interest. This large, -busy industrial center produces so many articles that the list resembles -a section from the new Tariff Act. - -We enjoyed varying our châteaux excursions with rambles in the city. -There are old gabled houses in the Rue du Change, where the overhanging -stories rest on brackets richly carved. One loses all sense of -direction in some of these intricate streets. The cathedral compelled us -to linger longer than we had intended. The ages have given such a warm, -rich gray to the stones that the usual atmosphere of frozen grandeur was -absent. Our interest in Gothic glass and mediæval pillars was diverted -by a wedding that was going on in the cathedral. One of the priests, who -was assisting in the ceremonies, left his duties to offer us his -services as guide; there is always a certain magnetic power to the -American tip. Of course we climbed the Royal Staircase of the North -Tower, even counting the number of steps. The fact that our numbers did -not correspond is all that saves this part of our story from resembling -a quotation from Baedeker. The panorama showed the city spread out in a -plain between the Loire and the Cher. We grew to have an intimate -feeling for these old cathedral towers. When returning along the Loire -from our châteaux trips, it was always a beautiful sight to see them in -the distance, clear-cut and luminous, or looking like majestic shadows -in the haze of twilight. - -[Illustration: _The road swept us along the bank of the Loire_ _Page -181_] - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE CHÂTEAUX OF TOURAINE - - -Tours made a convenient headquarters for our explorations in Touraine, -where along the banks of the Loire and the Indre were enacted the most -important events in French history from Charles VII to Henry IV. Every -one would be interested in an historical course having for subjects -these Renaissance homes of France's gallantry and beauty. One lingers, -and imagines the scenes of magnificent revel, the court life of kings -and queens when the artistic and architectural glory of France was at -its zenith. - -It was easy to plan our one-day trips so as to include on the same -circuit several of the most famous châteaux. The first day we motored to -Azay-le-Rideau, Chinon, Rigny-Ussé, and Langeais, in the order named. -The distances were short, perhaps one hundred and twenty-five kilometers -in all, so that we could go leisurely and yet return to Tours before -dark. - -With this wonderful program before us, we crossed the Loire, and -traversing a wooded country with areas of vineyards and gardens, came to -Azay-sur-Indre. There were not even hints of a château, nothing but the -aimless cobbled streets of the typical French town. We halted beside a -long wall which holds back the encroaching village and betrays no sign -of the surprise in store within. Any one about to see his first château -would do well to visit Azay-le-Rideau, a veritable gem of Renaissance -style. This graceful pile of white architecture, as seen to-day, belongs -to the early part of the sixteenth century. François I built it. That -patron of the _beaux arts_ has placed our twentieth century under -lasting obligation. Every line is artistic. There is the picture of airy -lightness in the turrets and carven chimneys that rise from the high -sloping roofs of blue slate. In gratitude for the preservation of this -perfect work one forgets the ravages of the French Revolution. Passing -over a small bridge, we followed the _gardien_ through the sculptured -doorway and up the grand staircase so often ascended by François and his -Parisian favorites. We were permitted to see the ancient kitchen and -old kitchen utensils of wrought iron. Paintings and Flemish tapestries -adorned the billiard room. The king's bedroom has a fine specimen of -rare mediæval flooring. The ballroom, with its Gobelin tapestries, -suggested the artistic luxury of the age. From nearly every window there -were pleasing outlooks on a green woodland and on the sunny branch of -the Indre, which surrounds the château on three sides. It was all a -picture of peace. Azay-le-Rideau is a château of elegance, instead of -defense. One could imagine it built by a king who had leisure to collect -beautiful works of art and whose throne was not seriously threatened by -invading armies. - -Quite different from it is the château of Chinon, an immense ruined -fortress built on a hill above the Vienne River. The walls are as -impregnable as rocky cliffs. Chinon was the refuge of a king who had -need of the strongest towers. Charles VII, still uncrowned, assembled -here the States-General while the English were besieging Orléans. It was -a time of despair. The French were divided, discouraged, helpless, -their richest provinces overrun by English armies. At this lowest ebb of -French history, a simple peasant girl came to Chinon. Only a solitary -gable and chimneypiece remain of the Grande Salle du Trône where Jeanne -d'Arc told the king of her visions from heaven and of mysterious voices -commanding her to save the nation. We entered the tower, her rude -quarters till she departed a few weeks later to lead the French troops -to the victory of Orléans. - -After lunch we motored through the gardens of Touraine to the -magnificent château of Ussé. The elegant grounds and surrounding woods -formed an appropriate setting. Terraces descended to the wall below, -where our view swept over a wide range of picturesque country, watered -by the Indre. Much to our regret, we were not permitted to visit the -château, which is now occupied by a prominent French family. - -Langeais, a few miles away, gave us a more hospitable welcome. It is a -superb stronghold upon the Loire, and has dark, frowning towers and a -heavy drawbridge which looks very mediæval. The widow of M. Siegfried, -a Parisian millionaire, lives here part of the year with her daughter. -M. Siegfried, who bought the château, was interested in art as well as -in ships. He lavished his wealth to furnish the different rooms with -furniture and _objets d'art_ peculiar to the period. His will provides -that after the wife's death the château is to belong to the Institute of -France, and that a sum equal to six thousand dollars is to be devoted to -its upkeep. Other tourists had arrived. The _concierge_ conducted our -party through the many different rooms, lavishly furnished and decorated -in the period of Louis XI and Charles VIII. There were wide, open -fireplaces. We were interested in the Grand Salon, where the marriage of -Charles VIII and Anne of Brittany was celebrated in 1491. - -The return to Tours led along the banks of the Loire. Rain was falling, -a cold drizzle which the rising wind dashed in our faces. The wide -sweeps of the river grew indistinct. There were few carts to check our -homeward spurt through the darkening landscape. We were fortunate in -having so comfortable a hostelry for a goal. The dinner, equal to the -best French cuisine, proved a pleasant ending to a memorable day. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The Chateau of Loches behind its imposing entrance_ _Page 187_] - -The next morning ushered in one of those golden fall days that seemed -made for "châteauing." The swift kilometers soon carried us to Loches, -that impressive combination of state prison, Château Royal, and grim -fortress overlooking the valley of the Indre. So many horrible memories -are linked with the prisons of Loches that we almost hesitate to record -our impressions. We have seen the dungeon cells of the Ducal Palace in -Venice and the equally gruesome chambers of the Castle of Chillon, but -the dungeons of Loches are the most fear-inspiring that we have ever -penetrated. Perhaps a part of this impression was due to the _concierge_ -who showed us the prisons where famous captives were incarcerated and -tortured at the will of monarchs. There was one dark cell with a deep -hole, purposely fashioned that the victims should stumble headlong to -their fate. Our guide gave us a graphic description of this method of -execution. In that gloomy hole, his sudden climax of "_Très horrible_," -would have made any one shiver. Some of these cells extend an -interminable distance underground. It is not the most cheerful -experience to descend deeper and deeper into this subterranean darkness, -to see the daylight growing fainter, to hear the trickle of water from -the cold rocks, and then to imagine the slow, frightful death of many a -political captive. Louis XI, not satisfied with the capacity of the -dungeon, built a great round tower, the Tour Neuve, where he imprisoned -the rebellious barons whose lives could not be taken. - -Some one has written of this amiable king that "his reign was a daily -battle, carried on in the manner of savages, by astuteness and cruelty, -without courtesy and without mercy." In the cell occupied by Ludovico -Sforza, the Duke of Milan, may be seen the paintings, sun dial, and -inscriptions with which he tried to ward off approaching madness. This -prisoner is said to have died from the joy of regaining his liberty. -Louis XI was resourceful in his method of imprisonment. In a -subterranean room of the Tour Neuve we were shown where the Cardinal -Balue was suspended in a small cage. One reads that he "survived so much -longer than might have been expected this extraordinary mixture of -seclusion and exposure." Almost as horrible was the window cell in one -of the torture chambers. The prisoner was confined on a narrow stone -ledge between two rows of bars. There was barely space to stand up or -lie down. A handful of straw served for a bed. On the one side, he was -exposed to the elements, and on the other, he viewed the torments of -fellow prisoners. - -We turned with relief to less hideous scenes, to the apartments of the -Château Royal, occupied by the irresolute Charles VII, the terrible -Louis XI, and their successors; to the tower, from the top of which we -had a commanding view of the quaint, mediæval town and the wandering -Indre. Our guide did not forget to show us the tomb of Agnes Sorel, the -beautiful mistress of Charles VII. Two little angels kneel at her head, -while her feet rest on two couchant lambs, symbols of innocence. The -monument would have made an appropriate resting place for a martyred -saint. - -From Loches, we motored through a deep forest to the château of -Montrésor, well protected on its rocky height by a double encircling -wall, flanked with towers. Once within these formidable barriers, we -were delighted with the pleasant grounds and green arbors above the -valley of the Indrois. The building dates from the commencement of the -sixteenth century, and was small enough to look more like a home than a -palace. The _concierge_ spoke of a distinguished Polish family who -occupied it part of the year. This was the first "home château" we had -seen. Everything looked livable; there was warmth and coziness and -refinement in the different rooms. We felt almost like intruders into -this domestic atmosphere. Some of the paintings were by great artists. -One was Fleury's "The Massacre of the Poles at Warsaw," on April 8, -1861. There were rare specimens of antique furniture, and, most -interesting of all, the "Treasury of the Kings of Poland," consisting in -part of the large gold dish and silver soup tureen presented to John -Sobieski by the city of Vienna, and of the silver-gilt services of -Sobieski and of Sigismond II, King of Poland. The château has a rich -collection of works of art and souvenirs relating to the history of -Poland. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The Chateau of Chenonceaux_ _Page 191_] - -The Hôtel de France nearby spread before us a ménu so good that we -confiscated the _carte du jour_ as a souvenir. - -Eagerly we looked forward to Chenonceaux, built on the Cher, most -exquisite of the French châteaux and for centuries the rendezvous of wit -and beauty. Motor cars lined the roadside by the gates of the park. Some -of the visitors had driven in carriages from the nearest railway -stations. We sauntered down an avenue of trees to a large garden, rather -a formal piece of landscape work. The drawbridge offered access to the -château. François I purchased it. Later, Henry II, ascending the throne, -gave it to his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. The French women of that day -had a big share in the shaping of history; the conversations of the -boudoir were often more influential than state councils. Diane built a -bridge which connected the castle with the other side of the river. -Twelve years later, the death of Henry II gave his widow, Catherine de' -Medici, a chance to relieve her embittered feelings. She forced Diane to -exchange Chenonceaux for another château. Upon the bridge built by her -rival, Catherine erected a long gallery, surmounted by a banqueting -hall. This fairy-like structure is so strangely placed, one is reminded -of a fantastic ship moored in the river. It is remarkable for its -celebrated Renaissance architecture and for the absence of bloody -traditions. "Blois is stained with the blood of Guise; Amboise was the -scene of massacre; Loches stands upon unnumbered dungeons; Chenonceaux -alone has no bloodstain on its stones and no groan has ever risen from -its vaults. Eight generations of kings took their pleasure there, and a -long line of brilliant and beautiful women makes its history like a rope -of pearls." Even the gloomy, plotting Catherine did nothing to disturb -the peaceful records and gorgeous _fêtes_ of Chenonceaux. In the -"_chambre de Diane de Poitiers_" we saw a painting representing -Catherine. Those cold, brooding eyes looked capable of anything, from -the murder of the Duc de Guise to the massacre of St. Bartholomew. - -Two other châteaux of our itinerary still remained, Amboise and Blois, -the latter perhaps the most famous of them all. We decided to visit -these châteaux _en route_ down the valley of Loire to Orléans. The -following morning we bade farewell to Tours. The road swept us along the -left bank of the Loire, all aglitter in the September sunshine. What a -wonderful stream it is, the longest river in France, with its basin -embracing one fourth of that country! There is not a river in the world -like it. One feels the breath of romance, the spell of historical -associations, the beauty of its curves sweeping through a smiling land. -"Perhaps no stream, in so short a portion of its course, has so much -history to tell."[6] Along its banks flourished for three centuries the -court of the Valois kings. There are vineyards, the remains of mediæval -forests, little villages that have scarcely changed in a hundred years, -and splendid châteaux like those of Blois, Chaumont, Chambord, and -Amboise, almost reflecting their towers in the water and rich in the -wonders of the French Renaissance. - - [6] _Old Touraine_, by T. A. Cook. - -Of all the châteaux along the Loire, Amboise enjoys the finest -situation. From across the river we could see this dark Gothic mass -rising from its cliff-like walls to dominate the town and far-winding -stream. The panorama from the high terrace is one of the indescribable -views of France. The real treasure of Amboise is the exquisite Chapelle -de Saint Hubert, due to Charles VIII. His artistic zeal was tragically -interrupted. We saw the low doorway where, according to tradition, he -struck his head and killed himself while hastening to play tennis. On -the terrace is a bust of Leonardo da Vinci, who died here in 1519. The -name of Catherine de' Medici is connected with a frightful scene that -occurred in the courtyard. A Huguenot conspiracy to capture the youthful -François II was discovered. The fierce Catherine not only witnessed the -executions from a balcony, but insisted upon the company of her -horrified daughter-in-law, Mary Stuart. Twelve hundred Huguenots were -butchered. One writer[7] makes the following grim comment: "It was a -long job, of course, to kill so many, and the company could hardly be -expected to watch it all, but the noble victims were reserved for their -special entertainment after dinner." Catherine seems to have had a -peculiar fondness for these innocent and edifying spectacles. We -descended the spiral roadway of the colossal tower up which Emperor -Charles V rode on horseback when he visited François I. This inclined -plane was so perfect and gradual that our motor car could have climbed -it with ease. - - [7] Sir Henry Norman, M. P., in "The Alpine Road of France," in - _Scribner's Magazine_, February, 1914. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The Chateau of Amboise on the Loire_] - -Recrossing the Loire, we rode on to Blois for lunch at that famous -hostelry, the Hôtel d'Angleterre, close by the river's edge. To the -château of Blois belongs historical preëminence. This great castle was -the center of French history in the sixteenth century. Elaborate and -imposing, Blois recalls the splendor of the age as well as its crimes. -Such fireplaces and such ceilings! The colors are crimson and gold. Amid -this gloomy grandeur moved Catherine de' Medici. The memory of her -presence alone is enough to make the air heavy with intrigue and murder, -with all the passions that inflamed the religious wars. Joining the -usual tourist crowd, we visited her apartments, including the bedroom -where she died in 1589, at the age of seventy, the most infamous of -French queens. To us, the strangest fact in the life of this fierce, -blood-loving queen is that she was permitted to die a natural death. In -one of the chambers were curious secret cupboards where she may have -concealed her jewels. The floor above suggested a terribly realistic -picture of the assassination of the Duc de Guise, whose popularity and -influence had aroused the jealousy of Catherine and Henry III. The -_concierge_ explained all the tragic details. This was the _salle du -conseil_, where, on the morning of the assassination, the duke was -summoned by the queen to a council; that, the _cabinet neuf_, where the -king remained while the fatal blows were being struck. And there, in the -king's chamber, at the foot of the bed, the spot where the body lay when -the king exclaimed, "He seems greater in death than in life." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -ORLÉANS TO DIEPPE - - -Leaving the châteaux country, we proceeded to Orléans in the lower part -of the Loire valley, spending the night at the Hôtel Saint Aignan. The -general appearance of the city is prosperous and modern. The walls which -once surrounded it have been turned into promenades. Everything in -Orléans seems connected with Jeanne d'Arc. There is a bronze equestrian -statue with bas-reliefs of the "Maid" who, clad in white armor, led her -soldiers from victory to victory. We hope sometime to be present at the -brilliant "Fête de Jeanne d'Arc," which is held every year on May 8, in -commemoration of her raising the siege of Orléans in 1429. Small shops -display postal cards representing scenes from her life. The Musée is -filled with interesting souvenirs. In the cathedral, where the people -worship her as a saint, we saw on the walls votive tablets bearing -inscriptions of gratitude to her for recovery from sickness. In the same -street is the "Maison de Jeanne d'Arc" where she was received by the -Duc d'Orléans during the eventful siege. That morning was filled with an -interesting series of historical sidelights. - -From the vineyards of Touraine to the wheat fields of Normandy; the -change was complete. Like an endless white ribbon, the road stretched -straight through the vast plain of La Beauce, the granary of France. -What far reaches of level fields! There were no telegraph poles, no -hedges, no fences. We seemed to be moving through a strange solitude, -empty of human face or habitation. The distant farmhouses and windmills -were too much like specks on the horizon to seem real. There is, after -all, no scenery to compare with the beauty of the lowlands, where every -mood of heaven, every change of sky, is part of a wonderful picture. The -weather, which was threatening when we left Orléans, now looked more and -more like a storm. No shelter was in sight, nothing but the open -country, the great dome of heaven, and the road ever narrowing ahead of -us until its indistinct thread merged into a faint blur. Swift clouds -took on a greenish, copper-colored hue, which deepened into black as -they swirled toward us. Then the hailstones began to fall with a -stinging force that increased with every movement. It was one of those -furious hailstorms of northern France which are as characteristic of -that region as the mistral is of the Midi. There were no mitigating -influences. The wind was pitiless, untempered even by the shelter of a -tree or barn. By stopping the car and crouching behind it, we secured a -little protection from the biting blasts. The sun soon burst through the -cloud barriers. We continued toward Chartres, stopping for a moment at a -railway crossing to "kodak" a passing freight train. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The wheat fields of Normandy_] - -The approach to Chartres was impressively picturesque. The double spires -of its vast Gothic cathedral, growing more distinct, finally towered -above the moat and the Porte Guillaume, the fourteenth-century gateway -of the city. Our hotel, the Grand Monarque, gazed upon the turmoil of a -village fair. The din was deafening. A merry-go-round added the blare of -brazen music; several hand-organs were in discordant evidence. We -mingled with the peasants around the small booths, and were almost -enticed by a _jolie paysanne_ into buying a pair of small _sabots_. Our -ride in the small motor car of the merry-go-round was the dizziest burst -of speed on our whole trip. - -Little Chartres is overshadowed by its mighty cathedral. All interest -concentrates there. Many consider it the finest in France. Every one -would agree that the interior is incomparable. Nowhere can we find a -more sublime expression of Gothic art. Those who fashioned this "sacred -rock-work set to music" belong to the great unknown; their names are -buried somewhere back in the early part of the thirteenth century when -the cathedral was built. At least, they have given us a picture of their -times; such structures could not be erected now. Our age is attuned to a -different key; there are too many distracting influences. Then, there -were no popular theaters, and few books or forms of amusement. The -church was the natural center of thought and life. Only the religious -inspiration of a people naturally artistic could have created the -immortal works which the cathedral builders have bequeathed. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The Gothic cathedral at Chartres_ _Page 200_] - -For a few miles outside of Chartres we were again on Route Nationale No. -10. The blue-and-white advertisements of various productions appeared -close to the road signs. This is a common practice of the French -advertisers, who wish to catch the eye of the _voyageur_. We had no idea -there were so many different makes of _pneus_ and _chocolats_. In the -roadside hamlets the French advertiser makes use of the sides of barns -and the corners of houses, but there is very little landscape -advertising. Being Americans, we were impressed by this absence of -disfiguring advertisements along the countryside in Normandy and other -parts of France. The "Bull Durham" herd, so often found in American -meadows, would not thrive in French pastures. It would be taxed out of -existence. - -Hardly had we sat down to lunch in the Hôtel du Grand Cerf of Nonancourt -when there was a great shouting and beating of drums outside. A group of -conscripts marched noisily by. They wore red, white, and blue cockades, -and neckties of the same color, in curious contrast to their simple -peasant dress. In accordance with the provincial custom, it was a day -of feasting to signalize their admission to the army. In two weeks they -were to leave their homes to begin the long, tedious period of military -service. A young _cuirassier_ whom we met in Limoges, and who had just -completed his first year of service in the cavalry, related interesting -experiences of life in the French army. The discipline is severe. The -German soldier is not subjected to a more rigorous training. The rising -hour is 5 A.M. in the spring, and 4 A.M. in the summer. There are long, -exhausting marches. As often as two or three times a week the recruits -are awakened in the middle of the night to make a long march. Life is -made to conform as closely as possible to the conditions of actual war. -A day's work of eighteen hours is not unusual. Naturally, this means -hardship, but it also means good soldiers. The French army is very -democratic. Rich and poor are treated alike. Both live together in the -barracks. There are no privileges. Even if a recruit is wealthy, he is -not allowed to keep a valet. Every man is his own domestic. The German -army is not nearly so democratic. There, if the recruit has means, he -can keep a servant and may live out of barracks in a comfortable -apartment. - -The conscripts whom we saw in Nonancourt were destined to anything but -an easy, inactive life. For infantry as well as cavalry there is the -same grueling routine. The three hours of drilling in the morning do not -include gymnasium exercises for three-quarters of an hour. Such menial -duties as peeling potatoes, or washing dishes and clothes, form part of -the morning's work. The short noon respite is followed by three hours of -military exercises. During this period of training the recruits receive -only one cent a day, besides clothing, guns, and very simple fare. The -term of service has recently been extended from two to three years, to -offset the increases of the German army. The average age of enlistment -is about eighteen years, an age when the American boy is entering -college or laying the foundation for a business career. In comparison, -the French boy is heavily handicapped. Even if his school days end at -the age of sixteen, he can do little in business. The French business -man does not think it worth while to prepare the boy for an important -position, since his military service is so close at hand. France pays a -terrible price for national security. The financial cost, burdensome -though it is, is the smallest item. Frenchmen who have lived in the -United States often speak of the great advantages enjoyed by the young -American who can devote to his education or to his life work those three -precious years which the French youth must give to the army. - -Anatole France, the distinguished French writer, was among those who -protested against the new military law. "This addition of a year to the -conscription comes on us just when France is moving forward with a new -energy, both in science and industry. It will be a grave blow to all our -higher life. Medicine especially will be injured, for the medicine of -the army is not the medicine of the civil state. French science requires -the time of its young students, and that will be gravely curtailed. The -demand for another army year from all young Frenchmen, imposed without -any exemptions, will draw off the best from every field of life. It -comes at a moment of great industrial development. It will check that -development. It comes at a moment of expansion in our arts, especially -in sculpture. It will be a heavy blow. Sculpture is not practiced on the -battlefield." - -We wonder if there is any help for Europe! How will it all end? So far -as we can now foresee, the peace conference at The Hague, to have been -held in 1915, has been indefinitely postponed. Instead of this gathering -of the nations to establish some practical basis for limitation of -armaments, there is the prospect of increased armaments. The burdens, -already so crushing, are apparently only the prelude to what is coming. -England is the pacemaker on the sea. Mr. Winston Churchill, in his -recent speech before the House of Commons, urged that the naval budget -for 1915 be raised to over a quarter billion dollars. He said: "The -naval estimates for the next year are the largest in British history, -$257,750,000. The causes which might lead to a general war have not been -removed. The world is arming as it never armed before. All attempts at -arresting it have been ineffectual." Germany is more than ever a nation -in arms. At the present rate of increase, her standing army in time of -peace will soon number more than a million men. France, which less than -a year ago passed the Three Years' Service Bill, already faces the -possible necessity of adding still another year to the term of military -service. - -Count Witte, the Russian statesman, has estimated that forty per cent of -the total income of the great powers is absorbed by their armies and -navies. He said: "Unless the great states which have set this hideous -example agree to call a halt and to knit their subjects into a pacific, -united Europe, war is the only issue I can perceive. And when I say war, -I mean a conflict which will surpass in horror the most brutal armed -conflicts known to human history, and entail distress more widespread -and more terrible than living men can realize." - -Russia is making sweeping military reforms. The disastrous war with -Japan taught valuable lessons. The reorganization of the army includes -vast increases of men, and especially the improvement in facilities of -transportation. The railroad network in process of construction on her -western frontier will probably be completed in 1915. When the plans of -the Czar are realized in 1917, Russia will have one of the most -formidable armies in the world, a war machine with a fighting strength -of over four million men. - -"Throughout Austria-Hungary there is just now a feeling of considerable -dread of Russia's ulterior motives in a number of measures, military and -otherwise, that are being discussed in political circles here. Of -greatest moment in that connection is a short but vigorous speech made -by the Hungarian premier, Count Tisza, before the Parliament. It was -delivered while advocating the new army increase bill (since adopted by -a large majority), which raises considerably the annual quota of -recruits. After bewailing the necessity of imposing new burdens on a -nation impoverished and already staggering under its load, he termed the -contemplated increase in the fighting strength of the army an absolute -necessity. 'The shadows of a coming big war are thrown ahead, and the -losing side will forfeit its national life, or at least expect a painful -amputation,' he cried." - -In every country where we motored there was scarcely an hour which did -not bring the sound of drums, the sight of barracks, of soldiers -drilling or on the march. Whether in Germany, Austria, Italy, or France, -there were the same sights of preparation for war. The sacrifices of -peace in 1914 are hardly less exhausting than were the sacrifices of war -in 1813. - -"What a reflection on modern diplomacy the whole situation casts! A -policy which men like Gray and Asquith have repeatedly characterized as -one of madness, as one leading to bankruptcy, as one that makes a -mockery of peace by throwing away half its benefits, is pursued because -the diplomats can't agree on a plan of armament limitation. It is -admitted that the frenzied rivalry in armament increase adds nothing to -the relative strength of any power or group of powers, yet the frenzied -rivalry continues at the expense of industry and constructive social and -economical reforms. If the 'causes of a general war' in Europe have not -been removed, what has diplomacy been doing and of what use are the -alliances, the ententes, and understandings among the powers? Might not -a little courage and boldness in pushing the armament-limitation idea -and appealing to public, business, and democratic sentiment force the -hands of the routine-ridden diplomats?" - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_The Seine at Rouen_ _Page 210_] - -For nearly twenty miles the road cut a white swath through the treeless -plain of St. André to the cathedral town of Evreux. The wheat fields and -cathedrals of Normandy should be mentioned in the same sentence. France, -so full of the picturesque, has few finer sights than the view of these -airy cathedral spires while one is still miles away from any town. We -zigzagged into the valley of Iton, climbed, swooped downward, and -crossing that hurrying stream, ran beside the river Eure into the main -street of Louviers. The warning, "_Allure modère_," was unnecessary. The -cobble stones were sufficient to make us slacken speed. The beauty of -the church of Nôtre Dame served to stop us completely. The church, with -its profuse embroidery of rich, delicate carving, shone like a jewel -amid the motley and jumbled houses. It was like finding a rosebush -blooming in the gutter of some neglected street. Through the forest of -Pont de l'Arche to the town of the same name, where we crossed the -Seine, past bright little Norman cottages, our route shot ahead to -Rouen, the center of cotton manufacturing for France, the most -interesting mediæval city in Normandy, and renowned the world over for -splendid Gothic churches. After inspecting the rooms of two or three -hotels, we chose the Hôtel d'Angleterre, close by the crowded traffic of -the Seine. - -Sight-seeing in Rouen is more convenient by carriage than by motor car. -We moved from the abbey church of St. Ouen to the church of St. Maclou. -If Europe had no other remains of Gothic art, Rouen would be enough to -describe all the splendor of that style of architecture. The cathedral -is a whole library of description in itself. Curious is the legend of -the Tour de Beurre, built by money received from indulgences sold, and -permitting the people to eat butter in Lent. - -"At the base of the Tour St. Romain, there still stands the lodge of the -porter whose duties from very early times right up to 1760, included the -care of the fierce watchdogs who were at night let loose in the -cathedral to guard its many precious treasures from robbers. How much -would we give for a glimpse of one of those porters walking through the -cavernous gloom of these echoing aisles, with his lamp throwing strange -shadows from the great slouching dogs!"[8] - - [8] From _Motor Routes of France_, Part I, by Gordon Home. - -The central tower rises into a great spire of open iron work, more than -one and a half times as high as the steeple of Trinity Church in New -York. One seldom sees anything so quaintly picturesque as the little -wooden cloister, Aître Saint-Maclou. From its courtyard, the burial -ground for so many victims of the Black Death of 1348, one sees mediæval -spires which rise in all directions. Another vivid reminder of the past -is the archway of the Grosse Horloge, with its huge clock in colors of -blue and gold and dating from the sixteenth century. - -But the impressions of Rouen that thrilled us most related to the sad -closing days of Jeanne d'Arc. At Orléans we saw her in the hour of -victory, a young girl dictating to experienced generals, cutting her way -through the English army around the city and bringing provisions and -succor to the beleaguered inhabitants. Our _cocher_ escorted us to the -tower where, with instruments of torture around her, she faced and -baffled her brutal inquisitors. In the old market place, the scene of -her martyrdom, one is shown a simple slab which reads, "Jeanne d'Arc, 30 -Mai, 1431." This marks the spot where she was burned at the stake. - -The last lap of the trip, the ride to Dieppe on the English Channel, was -past many large Norman farms. Neat haystacks dotted the rolling acres. -Nowhere else had we seen so many horses,--big, powerful creatures. -Normandy breeds and exports them. Apple orchards were in constant view. -Coasting down a long hill into the city, we left the car in the garage -of the Grand Hôtel, and joined an enthusiastic crowd which was watching -a football game between Dieppe and Rouen. - -The new France is keenly interested in sports and games. In 1912 there -was held in Paris the International Congress for Physical Culture, the -idea being to impress upon the young the need for physical development. -The extent to which the idea of physical culture has captured France -will be evident from the following figures: in 1896 the various -athletic societies had less than fifty thousand members; to-day, they -have more than three hundred thousand members. France has indeed entered -upon a new era. The chief characteristic of it is not literary but -practical, self-assertive, and everywhere for action. The young -Frenchman of to-day is more interested in sports than in art or -literature. A French professor recently said: "I have lived my life in -my library. There I have passed through my intellectual crises. There I -have experienced my most fervent emotions. In the lives of my sons I -notice that books play a very little part, or if they read, it is -biography, and especially the biography of men of action like Napoleon." - -[Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood - -_Where Jeanne d'Arc was burned at the stake_] - - * * * * * - -Now comes the pang of keen regret. We are close to the end. These weeks -of unmingled joy stand around us like a group of friends, as if to stay -our leaving. Four thousand miles of motoring, in five countries, and -without an accident! Our car has taken on personality. Here, climbing a -mountain to the very summit whose far-away vistas held us enchanted, or -rushing down on the other side, we skirted some quiet lake that lay -embosomed in its own loveliness; there, a wild glen with its mysterious -depths beckoning us to halt! We have seen the peasantry, as in France, -looked upon their quaint costumes and customs, and caught the simple -melody of their songs. We have gone close to palaces, and wondered -whether prince or peasant were the happier. We have seen châteaux that -were tragedies and cathedrals that were poems. We have seen the -conscripts file slowly past, each surrendering three years of the most -important period of his life. Then, we have contrasted a nation as a -military camp with our own great republic, without a large standing -army, but safe. And now, homeward bound to the freest land beneath the -sun, America! - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -EXPENSES AND SUGGESTIONS - - -The purchase of the car at the Benz factory in Mannheim, Germany, -plunged us at once into a maze of police regulations. It was necessary -to secure a driving license. With us in the United States this is hardly -more than a matter of routine. Not so in Germany, where the examination -is really a formidable affair. It is especially difficult for a -foreigner to secure a driving license. He may be able to give evidence -proving that he has driven a car for years in his own country. This fact -makes no difference. It is not even taken into consideration. Every -possible opportunity is given the candidate to make mistakes, and thus -to prove that he is not qualified to receive the desired certificate. No -detail of motormanship is overlooked. There is an age requirement of -eighteen years. First came the physical examination. Then it was -necessary to spend two hours a day in the shop for five and a half weeks -so as to become thoroughly acquainted with the various parts of the -motor car. The candidate is given an opportunity to see motor cars taken -apart and put together. In this way he is made familiar with the use and -purpose of every part of the car. The crucial test begins when he is -called upon to show his skill as chauffeur. It is customary to drive one -hundred miles in the city and surrounding country. The official police -inspector who accompanies him is resourceful in his tests. Under his -supervision the car is driven through crowded streets, and made to back -up and turn around in difficult places,--in fact, to meet all the -emergencies of motor travel. Even after the examination has been passed -successfully, there is a delay of several days before the license is -given the final stamp of official approval. The license for which we -made application on February 22 was not secured until April 10. It cost -one hundred _marks_ (about twenty-five dollars). Of this amount, one -half goes to the state and the balance to the shop giving the candidate -his instruction in motor-car mechanics. The inspector receives ten -dollars for his services. There is also a customary charge of one -dollar and a half for the number plate. - -Americans who have lived for a considerable time in Germany are always -impressed with the numerous occasions when the state interferes in the -private life of the individual; the foreign motorist is no exception to -this rule of coming at once into contact with the state. He no sooner -crosses the frontier than the state compels him to pay a tax. Even -though he remains in the country but a single day, he is forced to -secure a tax license which costs three _marks_ (about seventy-five -cents). These tax licenses are issued to cover periods of from one to -ninety days, the license good for three months costing fifty _marks_. If -one remains longer than ninety days it is necessary to renew this -license or _Steuerkarte_. The annual tax on motor cars varies according -to the power of the car. A car of 13.9 horse power (German rating) would -be taxed one hundred and twenty _marks_. The German tax net spreads -everywhere. At the time of our sojourn in that country the city of -Munich was considering the introduction of a tax on cats. Such a tax -would without doubt be the first of its kind in the world. In southern -Germany the small towns still continue to exact imposts of ten -_pfennigs_ (three cents) from the motor cars passing over their roads. -In spite of the complaint that this tax is a serious obstacle to trade -and traffic, there is no immediate prospect of its being removed. -France, in contrast to Germany, does not subject the foreign motorist to -a tax unless his sojourn exceeds a period of four months. - -The annual dues of the Rheinische Automobile Club amounted to forty -_marks_. Membership in an organization of this kind is necessary to -secure the _triptyques_ which are so indispensable to the motorist whose -itinerary includes several countries of Europe. The usefulness of this -important document has been described so often that we do not feel -called upon to make further comment here. Our international driving -permit based upon the special license issued by the state was also -secured for a small fee from the automobile club above mentioned. - -Among the incidental expenses, the cost of repairs is apt to figure -largely, particularly when one is motoring along mountain highways. -Such services are much cheaper in Europe than in the United States. In -our case the item was so small as to be almost negligible. The car was -so carefully overhauled and inspected before leaving the factory that we -suffered little inconvenience or delay. Our tire troubles were limited -to a single puncture. Continental tires in the rear and Excelsior in the -front gave excellent service. Notwithstanding the wear and tear of -mountain motoring, we found it necessary to use only one of the two -reserve tires. - -Gasoline was everywhere obtainable. In Germany and France the price is -about thirty-seven cents a gallon, but in Austria and Spain it is much -higher, generally approximating eighty cents a gallon. In Italy, where -bargaining is necessary, the price usually dropped from eighty cents to -less than forty-eight cents a gallon. A Bosch magneto greatly increased -the speed and climbing ability of the car, and enabled us to average -about twenty-one miles to every gallon of gasoline. In France the cost -of this necessary article is not fixed. Neighboring towns often showed -a difference of several cents in the cost per gallon. But although the -price is not uniform, the fine quality is, and always gave excellent -results. As a part of our equipment we carried as reserve a five-gallon -sealed can of gasoline and a similar quantity of oil. On these it was -occasionally necessary to pay a duty of a couple of cents at the -numerous _octroi_ stations in France. The inconvenience of these imposts -was usually more burdensome than the amount of the tax. For our oil, -which would have cost about forty cents a gallon in the United States, -we averaged one dollar and ten cents a gallon. - -Our hotel bills were not high. We had expected to find them much higher. -Two dollars or two dollars and a half was sufficient as a rule to cover -dinner, chamber, and breakfast. For instance, our rooms at the Hôtel de -France cost one dollar each, the dinner _table d'hôte_ seventy-five -cents each, and breakfast thirty cents, the usual prices which secured -us satisfactory accommodations nearly everywhere in France. Every hotel -had its garage, a fact which we did not always find to be true of the -hotels in Germany. The garage was often not much more than a shed or -lean-to, but it always offered the shelter and protection necessary for -our one-or two-night stops. Sometimes there was a garage charge of one -franc (nineteen and one half cents) a day, but this was exceptional. If -the car was washed we were expected to pay from thirty-five to fifty -cents for this extra service. The scale of prices in Germany and Austria -was possibly twenty per cent higher, but nowhere was there any attempt -to take advantage of the fact that we were foreigners. - -The motor tourist is such a familiar sight abroad that the stopping of a -motor car before a provincial hotel does not excite unusual interest. It -is rather an everyday occurrence, an accustomed detail of the day's -routine. France especially, more than any other country in Europe, has -become a land of motor tourists. The large well-to-do class turns -naturally to motoring for recreation and diversion. - -The Frenchman practices thrift in his hours of leisure and travel as -well as in his business. This fact probably explains in great part the -comparatively low level of hotel charges to be found in that country. -Contrary to the popular idea, there are not two sets of charges, one for -the European and a higher one for the American. We were never expected -to pay for services that were not rendered in more than ample measure. -On the contrary, we had daily opportunities to observe the effort made -to give us the best possible service for the prices charged. This was -true not only of the hotels but of the restaurants as well. Of course, -for a dollar a day we did not expect to have a _chambre de luxe_. It is -really a constant surprise to see how much one can get in the way of -clean, comfortable rooms and appetizing meals for a small outlay. - -France is a country by itself in this respect. There is perhaps no -country where the traveler can get so much for his money. In no other -land of Europe can one motor so cheaply. It is always possible to avoid -the big towns as sleeping places and at meal times, and yet run no risk -of not enjoying the finest cooking and a comfortable night's lodging. -Austria is the most expensive country for the motorist. Spain and -central and southern Italy are so little patronized by motor traffic -that they do not need to be included in our comparison. - -The consideration of incidental expenses brings us to the question of -tipping, without doubt the most perplexing and the most misunderstood of -all the problems that confront the foreign motorist in Europe. Long -before his steamer touches the shore of the Old World, he has visions of -an extended line of servants standing with outstretched hands to receive -the expected shower of coins. For the majority of tourists it is almost -an ordeal to leave a European hotel. How often we have heard the -question, "What shall I give?" The average American has such an -instinctive sense of fairness, of wanting to do the right thing, that a -matter of this kind assumes an importance out of all proportion to the -value of the tip. He is willing to be liberal; on the other hand, he is -not eager to pose as a philanthropic and charitable institution created -to satisfy the needs of every hotel employee who says "_Guten Tag_" or -"_Bon jour_" to him when he enters the hotel. The trouble is that in -borrowing this custom from Europe we have so Americanized it that we -find it difficult to get the European viewpoint and to adapt ourselves -readily to the practice as it exists to-day across the water. The -American _voyageur_ is so accustomed to doing things in a large way that -it is not easy for him to appreciate the European system of small -percentages. His common mistake is to give larger tips than are expected -and overlook the small tips which do not seem to be so important. He -hesitates to give a small tip, and in such cases would prefer to give -none at all. - -We have read somewhere the story of a Frenchman who was visiting the -United States for the first time. He ate a sixty-cent meal in a New York -restaurant. Following the custom in Paris, he left five per cent of the -bill, three cents, for the waiter. Many of us could probably confess to -an equal uncertainty and helplessness in the presence of our first -tipping experience in Europe. Baedeker's classic rule of ten per cent of -the total amount of the bill seems strangely inadequate when a traveler -has stayed only one night at a hotel and finds that his bill is about -two dollars. The problem of dividing twenty cents so that every one -will be satisfied is a task that he would willingly turn over to -somebody else. As a matter of fact, while there is no arbitrary rule, it -does not take long to discover that the _pourboire_ and _Trinkgeld_ are -fixed and permanent institutions, as solid in their reality as the -Credit Lyonnais or the Reichsbank. One is expected to give at least -something, even if the service rendered has been merely nominal. The -French and German systems of coinage, with their _5-centime_ and -_10-pfennig_ pieces, fit in so conveniently to the European standards of -tipping. Judging from our experience, the tourist will be most quickly -at ease who observes the custom as it is practiced by the inhabitants of -the country, and then makes his own scale of tips slightly larger. -Foreigners are expected to be a little more liberal. The quality of -service received will ordinarily more than compensate for this slight -increase. In Valence, where we stayed only one night, the bill, -including chamber, dinner, and breakfast, amounted to twenty francs for -two people. Our tips were itemized as follows: - - FRANCS CENTIMES - Garçon 50 - Femme de chambre 50 - Valet de chambre 50 - Concierge 1 - Garage 25 - -- -- - Total 2 75 - -If there was an _ascenseur_ in the hotel the elevator boy never looked -insulted when we gave him ten or fifteen _centimes_. If extra service -was rendered, we paid for it accordingly. This scale of tipping secured -us good service in the small provincial towns. In the larger places the -_maître de l'hôtel_ (head waiter) plays a more important role and ranks -in tipping dignity with the _concierge_. In Italy the equivalent of four -cents per person would be considered liberal in most restaurants. In -Germany, where the rise in cost of living is more noticeable than in -France, the item of tipping was slightly larger. Austria gave us the -most difficulty. Here the system is more complicated. The -_Speise-traeger_ who brings you food, the _Piccolo_ who ministers to -your thirst, the _Zahl-kellner_ who receives payment for the bill, all -expect their contribution of _hellers_. These dignitaries were -ordinarily satisfied with tips of twenty, ten, and forty _hellers_ in -the order named. The value of _hellers_ and _centimes_ is so nearly -equal that it was not confusing to pass from the Austrian to the French -system of coinage. - -The largest single item of expense was of course the cost of -transportation, which always depends on the size and weight of the car. -The cost of ocean transportation for an ordinary four-seated touring car -would run from one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and -seventy-five dollars. To this amount must be added fifty dollars to -cover cost of boxing. In our case, since the car was purchased abroad, -it was necessary to pay a duty of thirty per cent on the original cost, -minus the agent's commission of twenty-five per cent. - - - Transcriber's note: - - _Underscores_ have been used to indicate _italic_ fonts. - The Illustration captions were printed without accents. 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