BIARRITZ. 517 builded himself a seaside residence. His wife had fancied Biarritz in early Spanish days, and it is supposed the house was built to please her. But from that moment Biarritz became famous. Many of the most interesting events of the Third Empire happened on this beach. You will read about the time they had in the books of Prosper Mérimée. Biarritz seems to have been to the Empress Eugénie what the Trianon gardens in Versailles were to Marie Antoinette. It was here that she near Spain that old could do as she pleased, and it was so friends could drop in and talk about old times. It was here that Bismarck came before the German and Austrian war to find out what Napoleon would do. Napoleon was quite charmed by the young German statesman, and was talked into a neutrality which he afterward regarded as one of the grave errors of his reign. It was this bamboozling of Napoleon by Bismarck, this making the Emperor believe that if he would only keep his hands off during the Austrian war he might do as he pleased afterward, that began the career of Prussian triumph. Napoleon kept his hands off. Austria was thrown, and Napoleon found not only that it was impossible for him to do as he pleased, but that he was at last face to face with the ancient and hereditary foe of France. These are among the thoughts that come as you stroll along the beach and look out upon the sea. It rolls as calmly as when Bismarck and Napoleon walked here, planning to govern the world. Bismarck has more serious problems before him, and sits perplexed and wondering over his united Germany, which somehow does not unite as harmoniously as was hoped, but engenders assassination, and standing armies, and deficiencies, and communism-sits a prematurely old man, bent and gray before his time. Napoleon has vanished into night. The fair Eugénie finds her home under the cold gray skies of Chiselhurst and no longer comes to her Biscayan summer resort. Her house is closed. It is a large, square, unpretending pile, that looks from a distance like a sugar refinery or a grain elevator, it is so big and plain. I am told it will not be open until the Emperor comes to his own again, which is a prospect not very appa rent. In the meantime, the little town, missing its Bonapartes and Bismarcks, Mornys and Mérimées, and all the following of the court, has fallen into quiet, old-fashioned ways. There is a casino where you may have cards and coffee; a singing saloon, where you may drink beer and hear a vivacious young woman not overclothed sing you the latest songs from Paris. If it happens that your knowledge of the French tongue is indefinite there will be no remorse of conscience in hearing the songs. There are several hotels—one of them among the finest in Europe. I have high authority for saying that in this hotel is the only cook in Europe who can broil a chicken in a manner satisfying to the American taste. There are stores where you can buy worsted commodities and all manner of knickknacks from Paris. The streets-I believe, however, there is only one—are picturesque. You see the Basque costumes, farmers who yoke their oxen by the head, and compel them to haul the heaviest loads. I think the General was much more interested in this than in anything else—much more than in the memories and remnants of the Third Empire—and tried to solve the problem. He had seen oxen handled in many ways, but never in this Pyrenean fashion. The more it was studied the more useless it appeared. I suppose it is some old Basque tradition, and has come down from the Carthaginians. There were gardens and aromatic plants that perfumed the air. on the sea and on the edge of cliffs that overlooked the sea. This is all of Biarritz, which lingers as a sunny spot in the memory, for here you have the ocean, and here also you have tokens of Spain. There were walks We catch the first glimpse of Spanish life and character at the little town of Irun, which is just over the frontier. Its neat railway station was draped with flags and bunting. As the train drew up to the platform General Grant alighted from his carriage and was saluted by a general of the staff of Alfonso II., who welcomed him in the king's name to the Iberian Peninsula. He stated that he was directed by his majesty to place at the General's disposal the special railway carriage of the king, and to beg the acceptance of the same. The General expressed The train his thanks and accepted the proffered courtesy. moved out of the village toward the war-begrimed city of San Sebastian, the last stronghold of the Carlists. On the arrival of the train at San Sebastian, the General was presented to the town officials and distinguished citizens. The contracted harbor reflected the green of the tree-covered hills that encircle it, and beyond the conelike isle at its mouth was the sheen of the noonday sun on the Bay of Biscay. Leaving San Sebastian, the road leads southward toward Tolosa and Vergara. At usual military guard had been doubled in honor of the American General. After winding about the hills beyond the station of Tolosa, the train suddenly leaves the defiles behind, and smoothly skirts the side of a great hill, giving the occupants of the carriage a grand view to the southward. Near at hand are seen the peaks of the Pyrenees-only the extreme western spur of the range, to be sure, but a formidable-looking barrier to railway engineering. Altogether the journey is a charming. Swiss-like ride, creeping as the traveler does through the most dangerous mountain-paths, and where, even yet, the railway |