Studio: international art (23.1901)

Le Treport

STREET IN TREIORT BY F. L. EMANUEL

Students of character will revel in the casino,
with its "petits chevaux," its baccarat tables, its
balls for children and " grown ups," its concerts,
its theatre, its cafe', and its most admirable band
of Tziganes.

But perhaps you lean more to the landscape side
of art. Well, turn round and tell me if you have
ever seen a more imposing range of cliffs than
those which here recede from the beach in order
to leave a little room for the lower town. They
rise almost perpendicularly to an immense height
above the houses which crouch humbly at their
feet.

The port is full of interest, and gives one an
excellent first impression of the place, whether one
arrives by boat or by train, for the station is
situated on the harbour, at the junction of the
two towns of Mers and Le Treport.

A quay, which crosses a couple of bridges,
separates the end of the harbour from the broad
valley of the Bresle, and leads us to Treport. Look-
ing seawards from the first bridge, we notice groups
of small craft moored in mid-haven, and a line of
vessels being loaded or unloaded at the busy,
grimy quay, which eventually prolongs itself into
the east pier.

Landwards we see a dilapidated dock wherein
are several vessels left by the tide, leaning at
different angles on the ooze. For background
there is the valley, watered by a meandering
river confined by broad-shouldered, smiling
downs. In the distance is the little city of Eu,
surrounded by its forests. If we skirt the dock,
we shall find some most picturesque points of view
of Treport, with the old sluice-gates and bridge as
a foreground. Right up to Eu are peaceful river
"bits," with fishermen for human interest.
Some of the quaint charm of the lower part of this
valley will soon be gone, for, Treport being actually
the nearest port to Paris, immense docks are being
excavated to attract the traffic to which it feels
itself entitled. The upper reaches, however,
more especially those above Eu, will retain their
delicate, fairy-like beauty.

Returning to our road to town, we pass on our
left a few houses (most pictorial in the evening
light as seen from the main quay) and a humble
little hotel, which has the advantage of looking
straight down the harbour to the sea. We then
come to the second bridge, beneath which a little
torrent fumes and frets as it marks where the river
backwaters and Eu canal enter the harbour.
Tumbling about in the eddies formed by the
waterfall below bridge is a fleet of the smallest
class of fishing boats, all gaily painted. Land-
ward is the sheet of rippling water, with a quay
and houses running along one side of it and a
stretch of open country on the other.

Before crossing the bridge and leaving this end
quay, let us look ahead at a view which is always
fine, and, under some, aspects, superb. We
are facing the west bank of the harbour, a broad,
bustling quay, backed by a row of shops, chiefly
cafes—not very old, certainly, but each differing
in size and shape from its neighbour. Rising
immediately behind them is a hill overgrown with
scrub, and on this, its foundations level with the
chimneys, proudly rises the church of St. Jacques,
a grand old fane of the sixteenth century. This
church lords it over the whole harbour, and always
composes well with the shipping below. A road-
way slants up to the abrupt end of the main street,
under the shadow of the church, while its fellow
slants down to the quay again. Along this we
saunter past more cafes, thronged with customers
taking their little nips at tables on the pavement
in true boulevard style. Three or four of these
cafes hold concerts in the evening, to which visitors
and fisher-folk are alike attracted by the latest
songs and eccentricities from Paris.