TH

VII

THE LAND OF AZURE BLUE

HE Côte d'Azur whither many of my readers will be travelling-in thought, if not in reality-about Easter time, is well named the Land of Azure Blue, for it is the blueness of the sea, of the sky, and of the distant rocks and mountains, as well as much of the vegetation, which is when the sun shines, its special charm. And although one has some wet and some cloudy days, yet the sun does shine there with a strength and brilliancy not to be enjoyed in the early part of the year on the Atlantic and North Sea coast. This tract of country, more commonly known to English people as the Riviera, has very special meteorological conditions owing to its position as the narrow strip of shore-line existing between the vast mass of the Western Alps and the Mediterranean Sea. It is warmed by the sea, and lies too close under the mountains to be caught by any winds from the north, and at many points is also effectively protected from both east and west winds by rocky spurs of the great mountain chain.

The Riviera is a constant source of delight to those who love flowers and beautiful vegetation of all kinds. But few of its visitors appreciate the fact that it is really from end to end one big garden, cultivated for ages by its inhabitants, and full of plants introduced by man

which at present seem at first sight to be characteristic natives of it, but are, in reality, quite distinct from its primitive vegetation. This primitive vegetation is now represented only in what is locally called the "maquis ”— what we should, perhaps, term the "scrub" or "bush" in English. It comprises some pines, the juniper, the lovely rock roses, balsams, rosemary, the giant heath (bruyère), from which our briar-root pipes are made, the larger thyme, the myrtle, the rose of Provence, two kinds of lavender, and many aromatic plants with grey hairy leaves, and often provided with sharp thorns as additional defences against browsing goats. The delicious perfumes of these hardy inhabitants of the dry, rocky grounds, where little or no grass can flourish, are developed by them as a protection against browsing animals, who cannot tolerate much of these pungent volatile oils, although mankind extracts them and uses them in the manufacture of such scents as eau-de-Cologne and also in cookery.

Many a visitor to the Riviera never strays from the cultivated fields and roadways into this scrub-land. The olive tree, which forms so prominent and beautiful a feature in the panorama of gardens which unrolls itself as we steam or drive along the coast from Toulon to Mentone and from Mentone to Genoa and Spezzia, is not a native plant; it was introduced in prehistoric times, and has been again and again re-established by emigrants from Italy; but it was brought to Italy from the East. It is astonishing how many of the cultivated trees of the Riviera have the same kind of history-the vine came from India in prehistoric times, the fig tree more recently from Persia, the lemon from India, the orange and the peach tree from China. All of them were introduced in very ancient times to the eastern parts of the Mediterranean basin, and so gradually were carried to the shores of the Ligurian sea,

and would die out here were they not to a certain extent under the care of ownership.

The so-called "mimosa," so abundant here, with its pretty, sweet-scented, yellow blossom, is an Australian acacia, only introduced some sixty years ago; whilst the eucalyptus-a most picturesque and effective addition to the landscape-is a still later introduction from Australia. The cypress, that darkest and most shapely of conifers, long lines of which proclaim to the traveller as he passes Avignon his arrival in the true "South," is not a native of these parts, although it flourishes in suitable situations. It was introduced in mediæval times from the East. So, too, the palms, though some have been cultivated for centuries, have been largely imported from extra European localities in the last century. There is a native European palm. It is a kind of fan-palm, and grows here. I have gathered it in Sicily. It does not stately head" more than a foot from the ground, and is known to botanists as Chamaerops humilis. The gigantic Mexican agave and the prickly-pear cactus were introduced in the seventeenth century from the New World, though, according to Sir Herbert Tree's scenery, they were growing at Cape Miseno in the time of Antony and Cleopatra ! Bamboos of many kinds have been introduced here from the Far East, and flourish exceedingly.

rear its

The orange tree was brought from India (whither it was carried from China) and established in Southern Europe in medieval times, though known to the ancient Greeks and Romans. There are as many as 120 different varieties of the orange tree now cultivated on the shores of the Mediterranean, including, besides those which are valued for their sweet juicy pulp, those which furnish bergamot oil and similar aromatic products. The "issue pea" of old apothecaries, which was bound into a cut made in a patient's flesh for the purpose of producing

inflammation and suppuration, with the notion that such treatment was beneficial, was a minute unripe orange dried, and, no doubt, to some extent, antiseptic.

Besides the introduced trees, we find, in ground which has been more or less under cultivation, and not, therefore, of the nature of the "maquis," or scrub-land, some beautiful plants, such as the narcissus, iris, and various lilies. One very small and graceful tulip is, I believe, regarded as native to the soil, but a magnificent crimson tulip, as large as the varieties cultivated in English gardens, which I have found abundantly in open park-like land under olive trees at Antibes, is said to have been introduced from Persia in the Middle Ages, and to have taken kindly to the Riviera. It is the Tulipa oculus solis. In the same locality were growing many brilliantly coloured "stellate"

anemones.

There is, of course, a third group or "lot" of plants on the Riviera, which consists of those brought from all parts of the world during the past century, and regularly cultivated and cared for in gardens. The climate of the Riviera enables the gardener to grow all sorts of subtropical plants in the open air, and a long list of them could be given. The wonderfully brilliant crimson creeper, Bougainvillia, covers walls by the roadways, and even the railway stations, with its rich colour at this season. A delightful book by the distinguished botanist, Professor Strasburger, describing and picturing in colours many of the cultivated as well as the wild plants of the Riviera, has lately been published (in English) at a small price.

The animals which come under the notice of those who go in search of spring sunshine to the Riviera are far less numerous than the plants. But there is one which is dear to all, although it makes such a noise for an hour or so about sunset that some people are irritated or even

alarmed by it. This is the little green tree-frog, Fig. 1 which now comes forth from its winter sleep, and assembles' in thousands-guided by the "croak" or "call" which is produced by the males. The females have a very small voice comparatively. I kept two-a male and femalethrough a winter in London, and when the spring came the male terrified the household one night by unexpectedly uttering his cry-loud and sharp-to which the female replied. "Wharr! biz" is the nearest expression I can give in letters to the two sounds. After a great many evenings spent in these rhythmical declamations, the little frogs collect round pools and tanks, and at last drop from the trees into the water, and there deposit their spawn. When producing his cry the male distends the skin of his throat like a balloon. The air is driven alternately from it into the lungs and back again over the vocal chords, which vibrate with no uncertain sound. These little frogs are easy to keep in an inverted bell-jar or in a fern-case, but must be fed regularly with flies and spiders, which they catch by a sudden dab of the tongue at the moment of alighting from a long leap on to the glass where the insect is crawling. They can hold on to smooth glass or leaves by means of their sucker-like toes (Fig. 1).

The colour of the upper surface of the South European tree-frog is a most vivid and smoothly laid-on grass-green. Occasionally the colour becomes altered to a brownish purple, but returns after a day or two to its usual bright green tint. A great rarity is the blue variety of this frog -the enchanted Prince of the Côte d'Azur—blue as the sky and the sea around him-the true genius loci. I obtained one a few years ago at Mentone, and kept it alive for three years in London. Its blue was the blue of the forget-me-not or the finest turquoise. When it died (I believe of old age, and not from discomfort or disease) I examined its skin very carefully with the microscope,