Under the oaks.

French poet Nicholas Boileau-Despreaux (1636-1711) once penned, "Every age has its pleasures, its style of wit, and its own ways." Henry David Thoreau worded a similar thought in his diary on November 11, 1854: "That man is the richest whose pleasures are the cheapest." A couple of decades later, celebrated British writer Rudyard Kipling challenged mankind with these words: "Teach us to delight in simple things." Any of these quotes would have been keen advertising slogans for Biloxi's Riviera Hotel, admired for generations as the pride of the city.

The Riviera was three stories tall, of colonial design, and constructed so that each room's door led to the outside. Built on high ground fronting the beach in the heart of Biloxi, it was advertised as being located where Jean Baptiste LeMoyne de Bienville's first settlement stood in the year 1699. By 1915, this popular hotel enjoyed a reputation as a place where seeing a famous personality was the rule rather than the exception. The refurbished building was historical and pretty as a picture, and the food was ... well, it was what a lot of people went for, and it was what most wrote home about. Even so, there was another ingredient that made the Riviera the place to be. It was the trees--the two colossal live oaks that completely shaded the lawn of the L-shaped structure. These twin giants share a heritage of sheltering mankind long before the French ever contemplated sailing into the waters of the Gulf.

When the Lord called 75-year-old Abram to leave his home and travel to a distant country to start a new life and to become the father of a people who would be believers of His Word, Abram obeyed without questioning. Upon arriving in what the Bible calls the "land of Canaan," he stopped at the site of the great oak at Schechem, where the Lord appeared to him with additional instructions and an "everlasting promise." There, under the branches of what must have been the most majestic oak in the whole of Canaan, Abram first worshipped the Lord God by building an altar. Generations later, Joshua drew up a covenant to the Lord under this same tree, and in 1200 B.C., the "angel of the Lord" appeared and spoke to Gideon under the canopy of this same magnificent oak.

In 1860, the Lameuse family, for whom Lameuse Street in Biloxi is named, built a large frame hotel under the evergreen boughs of the two most stately trees in town. "Shady Grove" was appropriately chosen as the name of this new hotel, which became an immediate success. However, before the owners and the town could celebrate their first full year of successfully encouraging the tourist trade, war broke out. Biloxi was targeted early by the invaders, suffering some destruction and much disappointment. Through it all the hotel stood, in red ink for sure, but by the late 1860s, things began to look up. In the 1870s, when the timber boom began, the hotel became a magnet for speculators, buyers, workers, and, once again, tourists. It wasn't long before the welcoming shade caught the eye of a wealthy visitor, Col. P.J. Montross, who saw the hotel under the oaks as an opportunity of a lifetime.

After purchasing what would soon become one of the most famous hotels in the state, the colonel renamed the property the Hotel de Montross. With an advertising budget that would complement a hotel more than twice the size of the Montross, he placed ads in newspapers and magazines throughout the United States, Canada, Mexico, and even Europe. Montross, for 20 years as sole proprietor and manager, became like a one-man chamber of commerce. He sold the public on the amenities of his hotel, the busting little town of Biloxi, and the near-tropical Gulf Coast in general. As a result, the Hotel de Montross came to be visited by thousands who found the atmosphere and hospitality to be even nicer than they had imagined. The letters and postcards mailed home by guests seldom failed to mention the "shaded verandas" of this celebrated hotel.

In 1892, the successful and well-established hotel in the shade caught the eye of a New Yorker, R.V.R. Schuyler, whose family co-owned the Union Metallic Cartridge Company. Schuyler, who had a deep interest in hunting, fishing, and water sports, entered into a partnership with Col. Montross that eventually put the Mississippi Gulf Coast on the map as the tarpon fishing capitol of the world. Consequently, the fame of their hotel spread even farther.

In 1909, the hotel changed hands again. It was purchased by Col. J.W. Apperson, who invested a large amount of money in refurbishing and enlarging the antebellum structure. By 1915, he had added a number of new features, including a much-needed elevator (a first for the hotel), and in the process gave the hotel a new name, "The Riviera." This was in keeping with the developmental push of the era, as the entire Mississippi Gulf Coast was being promoted, by the various city mayors, as the "Riviera of America."

On July 4, 1922, the Riviera's front lawn was crowded to the beach with onlookers who came to witness the "Gulf Coast's first bathing beauty contest." Booths and stages were erected, electric lights were strung, and, apparently, not a single one of the attendees--many of whom were young men dressed in suits, ties, and the popular Panama straw hats--was disappointed with the varied entertainment of singers, dancers, minstrel acts, comedians, and acrobats highlighting an eclectic schedule of events. But it was the 14 bathing beauties dressed in their long (by today's standards) wool swimsuits that drew the most interest. The highly touted event raised more than $1,000 for Biloxi's hospital and at the same time kept the name of the Riviera on the front pages of the local newspapers and, more importantly, in the minds of the public.

The great depression of the 1930s crippled the nation and the Hotel Riviera as well. By 1938, room rates had plummeted to $1.50 a day, but even at that, the 100-room hotel that listed "fine food" among its amenities was still able to keep its doors open. Through the decades of the 1940s and '50s and into the '60s, the Riviera still welcomed traveler's to "rest in the shade."

On August 17, 1969, the most powerful hurricane ever recorded to strike the North American continent, with winds of more than 200 mph pushing a 35-foot high wall of water, smashed into the center of the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The 109-year-old hotel under the trees was no match for the unprecedented storm. Early in 1970, the wrecked building was demolished by modern heavy equipment, and its lumber, roofing, door casings, and other remains were loaded up and hauled to a landfill. Once the site was raked and the old lawn mowed again, Biloxians began to realize that although the hotel was gone, she had left behind two things: her enviable heritage and her shade. Both of her ancient oaks, still with most of their great sweeping branches, stood as testaments to their strength, beauty, and purpose.

Today, these two wonderfully historic trees shade the manicured lawn of Biloxi's Visitors Center, located at the corner of Lameuse Street at U.S. Highway 90, where they remain in the business of refreshing those who stop to rest.

"They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor."--Isaiah 61:3