Cagnes was a castle of the Grimaldi. The little town occupies a hog’sback, the summit of the hill is crowned by the château, and the one street leading to it runs up the spine of hill, with houses on each side clinging to the steep sides. The castle is not very picturesque, but it has in the midst a quaint court, surrounded by galleries and stairs. The great _salle_ had its ceiling painted by Carlone in the seventeenth century. It represents the fall of Phaeton, and is one of those subjects in the debased style of the period that are _tours de force_ in perspective. It represents an arcade of Corinthian pillars with windows between them painted on the flat surface, seen in perspective from a single point only. The castle was occupied by the Allies in 1815; a Piedmontese garrison was placed in it, and the soldiers amused themselves with firing at the head of Phaeton.
The painter spent three years over this absurd work, and when leaving it complete he wept and said, “Bella mea cascata di Phaëton, io non piu te vedere, mai, mai, mai!” It is really not worth looking at, save as an example of the degradation of art. The castle no longer appertains to the Grimaldi; it has been sold.
Eze is reached by tram, passing the beautiful bay of Villefranche, to the foot of the precipice on which it stands, and from whence it is reached by a scramble up a zig-zag path in about an hour. It is a curious example of a town, built on the summit of a rock, walled about, once with its castle planted in its midst, where it might, it was hoped, be safe from Moorish and Algerine pirates. Once an important place, with its consuls, it has sunk to ruin, and is now occupied by only ninety people. The church was built in 1772. The castle is levelled to the foundations, but the town walls remain.
In 1770 the Corniche Road did not exist. David the Painter was on his way to Italy to study at Rome. He arrived at Eze at night, and the curé very kindly took in the poor and footsore young artist. He was interested in David, and gave him a letter of introduction to a kinsman, the Prior Fighera, in Rome. This opened to David many doors in the capital of Western Christendom, and David received orders for pictures. In gratitude he sent a painting of S. John the Baptist to his friend, the curé of Eze, for his new church. About the year 1880 this picture vanished. The Administration des Beaux Arts instituted an inquiry, and ascertained that the Consuls of Eze had sold the painting to an Englishman for 500 francs, whereas it was worth 100,000 francs. That picture is now in the National Gallery.