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diff --git a/14812-0.txt b/14812-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..979b281 --- /dev/null +++ b/14812-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9088 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14812 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14812-h.htm or 14812-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/1/14812/14812-h/14812-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/1/14812/14812-h.zip) + + + + + +A MIDSUMMER DRIVE THROUGH THE PYRENEES + +by + +EDWIN ASA DIX, M.A. + +Ex-Fellow in History of the College of New Jersey at Princeton + +Illustrated + +New York & London +G.P. Putnam's Sons +The Knickerbocker Press + +1890 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: A DIFFICULT BIT ON THE ROUTE THERMALE.] + + + + +"How comes it to pass," wondered a traveler, over twenty years ago, +"that, when the American people think it worth while to pay a visit to +Europe almost exclusively to see Switzerland and Italy; when in 1860 +twenty-one thousand Americans visited Rome and only seven thousand +English; so few should think it worth while to visit the Pyrenees? It is +certainly the only civilized country we have visited without finding +Americans there before us. Is it accident or caprice, or part of a +system of leaving it to the last,--which 'last' never comes? The feast +is provided,--where are the guests? The French Pyrenees form one of the +loveliest gardens in Europe and a perfect place for a summer holiday. +'La beauté ici est sereine et le plaisir est pur.'" + +The query is still unanswered to-day. The stream of summer journeyings +to Europe has swollen to a river; it has overflowed to the Arctic Ocean, +to the Baltic, to the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. The Pyrenees--a +garden not only, but a land of sterner scenery as well,--almost alone +remain by our nation of travelers unvisited and unknown. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER I. + +IN PERSPECTIVE + + +CHAPTER II. + +A BISCAYAN BEACH + + +CHAPTER III. + +BAYONNE, THE INVINCIBLE + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SAINT JOHN OF LIGHT + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE CITY OF THE ARROW-PIERCED SAINT + + +CHAPTER VI. + +AN OLD SPANISH MINIATURE + + +CHAPTER VII. + +AN ERA IN TWILIGHT + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE LITTLE PARIS OF THE SOUTH," + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE WARM WATERS AND THE PEAK OF THE SOUTH + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE GOOD WATERS OF THE ARQUEBUSADE + + +CHAPTER XI. + +OVER THE HIGHWAY OF THE HOT SPRINGS + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MIRRORS AND MOUNTAINS + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A COLOSSEUM OF THE GODS + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE VALLEY OF THE SUN + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE INTERLAKEN OF THE PYRENEES + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +OUT TOWARD THE PLAIN + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS. + +A DIFFICULT BIT ON THE ROUTE THERMALE, FRONTISPIECE + +BEACH AND VILLA EUGÉNIE AT BIARRITZ + +"HERE TOO ARE THE FISHERMEN'S CABINS," + +EN CACOLET + +A BAYONNE ARCADE + +A CONSPICUOUS ENTRY INTO ST. JEAN DE LUZ + +THE CAMERA AT THE CUSTOM-HOUSE + +A DISILLUSIONIZING LEGEND + +THE LEGEND AS REFRAIN + +A BÉARNAIS MARKET-WOMAN + +A SYMBOL OF VENGEANCE + +DULL PROSPECTS AT GABAS + +CAILLOU IN COSTUME + +THE BELLES AND DAMES OF GOUST + +ROAD-MENDERS ON THE PASS + +"ACCOUTRED AS SHE IS, SHE PLUNGES IN," + +"THE TOWN IS WAITING FOR THE DILIGENCE," + +A CAFÉ CONJURING-SCENE + +LAC DE GAUBE AND VIGNEMALE + +ONE CORNER OF THE OMNIBUS + +THE CIRQUE OF GAVARNIE FROM THE CHAOS + +THE INN-YARD AT GRIP + +"THERE IS NAUGHT OF THE PRETENTIOUS ABOUT THE HOTEL D'ANGLETERRE," + +PIC DE LA PIQUE, AND PATH TO THE PORT DE VÉNASQUE + +THE EVENING FÊTE AT BIGORRE + + +MAP. + +RELIEF-MAP OF THE CENTRAL PYRENEES. + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +IN PERSPECTIVE. + + "In fortune's empire blindly thus we go; + We wander after pathless destiny, + Whose dark resorts since prudence cannot know, + In vain it would provide for what shall be." + + +A trip to the Pyrenees is not in the Grand Tour. It is not even in any +southerly extension of the Grand Tour. A proposition to exploit them +meets a dubious reception. Pictures arise of desolate gorges; of lonely +roads and dangerous trails; of dismal roadside inns, where, when you +halt for the night, a "repulsive-looking landlord receives the unhappy +man, exchanges a look of ferocious intelligence with the driver,"--and +the usual melodramatic midnight carnage probably ensues. The Pyrenees +seem to echo the motto of their old counts, "_Touches-y, si tu l'oses_!" +the name seems to stand vaguely for untested discomforts, for clouds and +chasms, and Spanish banditti in blood-red _capas_; to be, in a word, a +symbol of an undiscovered country which would but doubtfully reward a +resolve to discover. + +Yet there is a fascination in the project, as we discuss a summer tour. +There, we know, are mountains whose sides are nearly Alpine, whose +shoulders are of snow and glacier, whose heads rise to ten and eleven +thousand feet above the sea. There, we know, must be savage +scenery,--ravines, cliffs, ice-rivers, as in the Alps; valleys and +streams and fair pastures as well, and a richer southern sunlight over +the uplands; besides a people less warped by tourists, intensely +tenacious of the past, and still tingling with their old local love of +country,--a people with whom, "to be a Béarnais is greater than to be a +Frenchman." + +To visit the Pyrenees, too, will be almost to live again in the Middle +Ages. The Roman, the Moor, the Paladin, Froissart, Henry of Navarre, +have marked the region both in romance and in soberer fact. Its valleys +have individual histories; its aged towns and castles, stirring +biographies. The provinces on its northern flanks, once a centre, a +nucleus, of old French chivalry, are saturated with mediæval adventure. +One visits the Alps to be in the tide of travel, to find health in the +air, to feel the religion of noble mountains. In the Pyrenees is all +this, and more,--the present and the past as well. As we call down the +shades of old chroniclers from the dust of upper library tiers, we grow +more and more in desire of a closer acquaintance. Cæsar, Charlemagne, +Roland, the Black Prince, Gaston Phoebus, Montgomery and knightly King +Henry stand in ghostly armor and beckon us on. + + +II. + +Facts of detail prove farther to seek. We inquire almost in vain for +travelers' notes on the Pyrenees. Those who had written on Spanish +travel spoke of the range admiringly. But these authors, we find, +invariably, only passed by the eastern extremity, or the western, of the +great mountain wall; the mountains themselves they did not visit. Search +in the large libraries brings out a few scant volumes of Pyrenean +travel, but all, with two or three exceptions, bear date within the +first three-fifths of the century. It is with books, often, as with the +_Furançon_, the wine of the Pyrenees, and with certain other vintages: +age improves them only up to a certain limit; when put away longer than +a generation, they lose value. + +Taine's glowing _Tour_,[1] itself made nearly thirty years ago, is a +delight, almost a marvel; the style, the torrent of simile, the vivid +thought, rank it as a classic. But M. Taine's is less a book of travel +than a work of art; in the iridescence of the descriptions, you lose the +reflection of the things described. Even hand-books, the way-clearing +lictors of travel, prove, as to the Pyrenees region, first scarce and +then scanty. The few we unearth in the stores are armed only with the +usual perfunctory fasces of facts,--cording information into stiff, +labeled bunches, marshaling details into cramped and characterless +order, scrutinizing the ground with a microscope, never surveying it in +bird's-eye view. Two recent novels we eagerly buy, hearing that their +scenes are laid in that vicinity; but each merely speaks, in easy +omniscience, of the "distant chain of blue mountains," or of the +"far-off snow-peaks outlined against the horizon," and the fiction +proves hardly worth sifting for so little fact. Plainly the Pyrenees +lack the voluminous literature of the Alps. Plainly we shall have, in +part, to grope our way. The grooves of Anglo-Saxon travel are many and +deep, lined increasingly with English speech and customs; but they have +not yet been cut into these Spanish mountains. + +[1] _Voyage aux Pyrénées_. + + +The search enlarges the horizon, however. The lonely roads we learn to +qualify in thought with occasional branches of railway; the dangerous +trails, with certain cultivated highways; the dismal road-side inns, +with spasmodic hotels, some even named confidently as "palatial." We +read of spas and springs and French society, more than of chasms and +banditti. We realize in surprise that over all the past of these +mountains flows now in bracing contrast the easy, laughing tide of +modern French fashion,--life so different in detail, so like in kind, to +the day of trapping and tourney. + +It is enough: + + "Now are we fix'd, and now we will depart, + Never to come again till what we seek + Be found." + + +III. + +Difficulties always lessen after a decision. I casually question a +doughty Colonel, who has been an indefatigable traveler; he has twice +girdled the earth, and has many times cross-hatched Spain; he has not +been to the Pyrenees, but heartily urges the trip. He assures me that +the banditti there have become, he believes, comparatively few; that +they now rarely slit their captives' ears, and that present quotations +for ransoms, so he hears, are ruling very low, much lower than at any +previous epoch. Thus comforted, we interview other traveled friends; but +our goal is to all an unvisited district. We find no kindly Old +Travelers returned from Pyrenees soil, to counsel us, advise us, and +inflict well-meant and inordinate itineraries upon us. At least, then, +we are not alone in our ignorance; it is evident that our knowledge of +the region is not blamably less than that of others, and that the +Pyrenees are in literal fact a land untrodden by Americans. + +Questions of accessibility now arise. It seems a far cry from Paris to +the doors of Spain. The Pyrenees are not on the way to Italy, as are the +Alps. They are not on the way around the world, as are the Mountains of +Lebanon and the Sierras. They are not strictly on the way even to Spain. +But we consider. Our country men are streaming to Europe, quick-eyed for +unhackneyed routes, throwing over the continent new and endless +net-works of silver trails. They travel three full days to reach the +Norway fjords, and five in addition to see the high noon of midnight. +They journey a day and night to Berlin, and forty-two hours +consecutively after, without wayside interest, to visit the City of the +Great Czar; if they persevere toward the Kremlin, and around by +"Warsaw's waste of ruin," they will have counted a week in a railway +compartment. Constantinople and Athens lie two thousand miles away, +Naples and Granada nearly as far; all sought, even in summer, though +quivering in the tropics' livid heat. We came round to our Pyrenees: it +needs from Paris but nine hours to Bordeaux, with coigns of vantage +between; in four hours from Bordeaux, you are by the waters of the Bay +of Biscay, or in six, in the centre of the Pyrenees chain. + + +IV. + +And so _La Champagne_ leaves its long wake across the Atlantic, and we +journey down from Paris to the little city of the Maid of Orleans; +wander to Tours, the approximate scene of the great Saracenic defeat; +drive along the quays of Bordeaux, and visit its vineyards and finally +come on, in the luxurious cars of the _Midi_ line, to the shores of +Cantabria and the popular watering-place of Biarritz. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A BISCAYAN BEACH. + + +Clearly we are in advance of the summer season at Biarritz. It is the +latter part of June. The air is soft and warm, the billows lap the shore +enticingly. But fashion has not yet transferred its court; the van of +the column only has arrived. A few adventurous bathers test the cool +surf; the table-d'hôte is slimly attended; the liverymen confidentially +assure us, as an inducement for drives, that their prices are now +crouching low, for a prodigious leap to follow. + +But everything has a pleasing air of anticipation. Since we are to be +out of the season at all, we are glad we are in advance of it. This is +the youth of the summer, not its old age. People are looking forward; +events are approaching, instead of receding; the coming months seem big +with indefinite promise of benefit and pleasure. + +We quickly become imbued with the general hopefulness of the place. +Every one has the look of one making ready. You hear, all day long, when +far enough from the waves, a vague, joyous hum of bustle pervading the +town. The enterprising click of hammer or trowel falls constantly on the +ear. The masons are at work upon the new villas, and our hotel is +completing a fine addition for a café; the stores along the busy little +main street are being put in order, the windows alluringly stocked, and +bright awnings unrolled above them, fenders from the summer's heat. The +hotels are fairly awake. Everything is rejoicing that the +semi-hibernation is over. + +[Illustration: RELIEF MAP OF THE CENTRAL PYRENEES] + +Biarritz, the town, is as delightful, if not as picturesque, as we had +hoped. Perhaps it is too modern to be picturesque. In this part of the +world at least, one rather requires the picturesque to be allied with +the old. The nucleus of Biarritz is old, but that is out of sight in the +modern overgrowth; Biarritz, as it is, is of this half century. + +This is not, on the whole, to be regretted. Biarritz has no history, no +past of associations, no landmarks to be guarded. Vandalism in the form +of the modern rebuilder can here work more good than harm. Save for its +location at the edge of the wild Basque country, and what it has seen, +itself sheltered by obscurity, of the forays of that restless people, +the place has little to tell. It is a watering-place, pure and simple, +buoyed entirely by the prospering ebb and flow of modern fashion. Let us +take it as of to-day, not of yesterday, content to seek its charms under +that aspect alone, enjoying it for itself, not for its pedigree. + +Biarritz is a prerogative instance of the magnetism of royalty,--of the +social power of the court as an institution. It was a watering-place, in +a small way, before Eugénie's advent; but there was not a tithe of its +present size and popularity. In 1840, it numbered in all not more than +fifty houses, a few of them lodgings or humble cafés, but the greater +part staid little whitewashed summer-dwellings with green verandas and +occasional roof-balconies; set down irregularly, without street or +system, along the sunny slopes of the bluff. Murray's _Handbook_ for +1848 gives it passing notice, and disrespectfully styles it the dullest +place upon earth for one having no resources of friends upon the spot. +But in the modern edition of forty years later, the same manual has come +to describe the place in a very different strain; assigns it a +population of nearly 6,000; details, with respect, its fashionable rank, +its villas and increasing hotels, its graded streets and driveways; and +among other things adds the simple remark that "about twenty-one +thousand strangers now visit Biarritz every year." Evidently there has +been some advance within the span. + +It was the Empress of the French who distilled the life-elixir for the +quiet little resort. As a maiden, she had spent long summers by its +shore, and when she was become the first lady in the land, she turned +still to Biarritz, and the midsummer tide of fashion followed after her. +Across the downs, on the bluff, stands the _Villa Eugénie_, the handsel +of Biarritz's prosperity; and here about us is the town that grew up to +make her court. + +Fair France lost as well as gained when the burning walls of the +Tuileries crashed in. In these days of the plain French Republic,--of +its sober, unornamental, business government,--the contrast is vivid +with the glitter and "go" of Louis Napoleon's régime. And the nation +feels it, and involuntarily grieves over it. The twenty years have far +from sufficed to smother that certain inborn Gallic joy in +monarchy,--autocratic rule, a brilliant court, leadership in fashion, +and all the pomp and pageantry which the French love so well. + +Little more than a century ago, stable governments seemed at last to be +ruling the world; civilization had come to believe itself finally at +peace; war, it was complacently said, had finished its work; the coming +cycles would prove so far tamed as to have outgrown fightings and +revolutions. Cultured modern history, like Nature, would refuse to +proceed _per saltum_. Yet the hundred years since gone by have brought +wars as fierce, "leaps" of government as tremendous, as any century in +the past. It is this same fair France that has contributed more than her +share of them, and the Fall of the Second Empire was one of the most +dramatic. The world is not, after all, so securely merged from the +darkness of the Dark Ages. Within that short century, in Paris itself, +the very capital of cultured Europe, there has twice uprisen a human +savagery immeasurably exceeding all the tales we are to tell of the +fierce past of the Pyrenees. + +It needs an effort to-day to picture the social power of France and +Eugénie twenty years ago. The mantle has not fallen to England and +Alexandra. Only a people like the French can endue fashion with +absolutism. + +So it was, that when the Empress came to Biarritz, "all the world" came +also. From the building of her villa dates the true origin of Biarritz. +From that time its growth was progressive and sound. When the empire +finally fell, this creature of its making had already passed the +danger-point, and so stood unshaken; Biarritz had become too popular, +its clientèle too devoted, to part company. Even in the winter it has +its increasing colony; in summer its vogue is beyond caprice. The +sparkle of the royal occupation has gone, and the royal villa is +tenantless; but the place no longer needs a helping hand, for it is +abundantly able to walk alone. + +[Illustration: BEACH AND VILLA EUGÉNIE AT BIARRITZ.] + + +II. + +In the afternoon we wander down to the sands. The tide is low. The long +billows of the Bay of Biscay roll smugly in, hypocritical and placid, +with nothing to betray the unenviable reputation they sustain _in mediis +aquis_. The broad, smooth beach is not notably different in kind from +other beaches; but we instantly see the peculiar charm of its location. +The shore sweeps off in a long, lazy crescent, rounding up, a mile or +two to the northward, with the light-house near Bayonne. Southward we +cannot follow it from where we stand, for the near irregularities of +cliff cut it off from sight. Back from the beach rises the bluff, +curving northward with the crescent; at our left it comes boldly down +toward the water, partitioning the beach and breaking up at the edge +into strange, gaunt capes and peninsulas. Black masses of rock, large +and small, are crouching out among the waves, tortured by storms into +misshapen forms and anguished attitudes, patted and petted into +fantastic humps and contortions. The strata dip at an angle of about +twenty-five degrees, and the stone is friable and defenceless. +Soothingly now the water is running over and around these rocks, or +whitens their outlines with foam; granting their piteous torsos, in +merciful caprice, a day's brief respite from the agony of its +scourgings. + +The afternoon sun shines brightly against the bathing pavilion, +irradiating its red and yellow brick. Along the narrow; sheltered +platform at its front, sit matronly French dowagers, holding their +daughters, as it were, in leash, and talking of women and things, and +affairs of state. Though early in the season, the beach is well +sprinkled with people. A few attempt the bathing again, but the rest +saunter here and there or enjoy beach-chairs at a stipulated rental. The +elderly French gentleman, a dapper and interesting, specimen rarely +paralleled at home, strolls about contentedly on the asphalt promenade +back from the beach, smoking a cigar and fingering a light bamboo. +Younger men, also well-dressed, pass in couples, or walk with a mother +and daughter,--never with the daughter alone. Boatmen and candy-peddlers +ramble in and out, a Basque fisherman or two linger about the scene, and +dogs, a pony and a captive monkey, add an element of animal life. + +Despite its sunny holiday temperament, Biarritz was one of certain +Biscayan villages once denounced as "given up to the worship of the +devil,"--thus denounced by Henry IV's bloodthirsty inquisitor, Pierre de +Lancre, a veritable French Jeffreys, and the same who in 1609 put to +death no less than eight hundred persons on the ground of sorcery. "He +tells us that the devils and malignant spirits banished from Japan and +the Indies took refuge here in the mountains of Labourd. Above all, he +asserts that the young girls of Biarritz, always celebrated for their +beauty, 'have in their left eye a mark impressed by the devil.'" + +Happily we have no devil in this nineteenth century, and in the clear +glance of these Biarritz peasants loitering on the sands, we find that +his brand-marks have disappeared with him. + +A few of the faces we meet are English; many are Spanish, and show that +Biarritz draws its worshipers from the South as from the North. Indeed, +a large proportion of its summer society wears the mantilla and wields +the fan. Other marks, too, of Spanish dress are here, as where little +girls in many-hued outfit romp along the sands, dragooned by dark-faced +nurses in true Iberian costume. Three or four brilliant red parasols add +amazingly to the general effect of the scene. + +We repair to the stone parapet before the pavilion, and gravely paying +our dues for chairs, sit and watch the picture. There is no charge for +sitting on the beach, but this is severely frowned upon at Biarritz. The +dues are two sous per chair, and, with true Continental thrift, they are +always rigorously collected. Whether one wanders into the open square of +the Palais Royal at Paris, or listens to the music in the Place de +Tourny at Bordeaux, or watches the waves at Biarritz, the old woman with +her little black bag at once appears upon the scene. Some Frenchless +friends in Paris, on one occasion, guilelessly seated in the gardens of +the Palais Royal, took the collector simply for a pertinacious +beggar-woman, and waved her airily off. She returned to the charge, of +course, in indignant French, and grew angrier every moment as she found +herself still loftily ignored. A warm fracas was in prospect, when a +passing American fortunately cleared up the complication; the woman +would have called in a gendarme unhesitatingly, to enforce her +diminutive claim. + +On the bluff, beyond the pavilion, Eugénie's villa, a square, rich +building of English brick, surveys the scene its existence has brought +about. Around us, on the beach, the nurses sit in the shade of the rocks +and discourse on the respective failings of their charges. Children dig +in the sand with pail and shovel, with the same zest as at home. +Child-nature changes little with locality. So recently from the great +unknown, it is not yet seamed and crusted by environment. I suppose that +children fairly represent the prehistoric man. Impulse, appetite, +passion,--all the gusts of the moment sway them. We quell our emotions +so uniformly, as we grow on, that we finally hardly feel their +struggles. The children have richer life than we, in some respects: + + "Faith and wonder and the primal earth + Are born into the world with every child." + +I make no doubt that Nimrod, or Achilles and Ajax, great children that +they were, as ready to cry as to feast, to laugh as to fight, hunting +mightily, sulking in the tent, or defying the lightning,--intense, +sudden, human all through,--drank down their strong, muddy potion of +existence with a smack far heartier than the reflective sips of life +which civilization has now taught us to take. Childhood is wide and free +and abounding and near to nature, and we can take thoughts from it, and +ponder, perhaps dubiously, on the distance we since have traveled. + +The children dig in the sand, and throw it over the nurses, just as they +are doing at Old Orchard and Old Point. Here, with a maid, is a pair of +children who freely show one attribute of childhood not so pleasing as +others,--cruelty. They have a little monkey, fastened by collar and +chain, and it is pitiful and yet ludicrous to see the close watch the +animal keeps on his captors' movements. He has found a slack chain his +best policy, and adapts his every motion anxiously and solicitously to +the leaps of the boy. But the utmost vigilance avails him little. When +the child is weary with running and sudden turns, which have called for +marvelous dexterity of accommodation on the part of the monkey, the +chain is hauled up, with the animal clinging worriedly to it, and he is +flung far out into the fringe of waves, to pick his shivering way up +again and again from the water. These children have a white rat, also, +which they chase over the sand, and souse into puddles, and otherwise +maltreat. It is useless to interfere parentally, and we hardly see our +way to buying either rat or monkey, even to ensure them a peaceable old +age. One wonders why children have this queer taint of cruelty. +Unconscious cruelty it may be, but it seems none the less out of place +in their fresh, unused nature. We outgrow some rude vices as well as +rude virtues, in becoming older, and there is comfort in that. + + +III. + +The bluff, coming out to the sea, cuts off, close at hand, the curve of +the shore toward the south, and we climb by a sloping path. From the +top, we look down upon, the beach we have left; back upon the downs +cluster the numberless private villas which form a feature of Biarritz; +to the left, over the near roofs and hotels of the town, we can see the +first far-off pickets of the Pyrenees; while immediately in front now +appear below us three or four rocky bays and coves, broken by the lines +of the cliff and partly sheltered by the rocks out at sea. "Many of +these rocks," writes an old-time visitor,[2] in the pleasantly aging +English of 1840, "are perforated with holes, so that, with a high sea +and an incoming tide, and always, indeed, in some degree, when the tide +flows, the water pours through these hollows and rents, presenting the +singular appearance of many cascades. Some of the rocks lying close to +the shore, and many of those which form the cliff, are worn into vast +caverns. In these the waves make ceaseless music,--a hollow, dismal +sound, like distant thunder,--and when a broad, swelling wave bounds +into these caverns and breaks in some distant chamber, the shock, to +one standing on the beach, is like a slight earthquake. But when a storm +rises in the Bay of Biscay, and a northwest wind sweeps across the +Atlantic, the scene is grand beyond the power of description. The whole +space covered with rocks, which are scattered over the coast, is an +expanse of foam, boiling whirlpools and cataracts, and the noise of the +tremendous waves, rushing into these vast caverns and lashing their +inner walls, is grander a thousand times than the most terrific +thunder-storm that ever burst from the sky." + +[2] INGLIS: Switzerland and the South of France. + + +In these little coves now float idle pleasure-boats, bright with paint +and listless awnings, and ready to be manned by their stout Basque +rowers. Here, too, are the fishermen's cabins, snugly built in against +the rocks, and garnished with baskets and poles, and with men repairing +their nets. The irregular curves of the bluff, broken here into abrupt +and dislocated masses, lend themselves readily to winding paths, and we +ramble on, curving upward and downward, over short bridges and through +little tunnels under the rocks, each turn giving a new view of the bay +or the town. + +Finally we round another promontory, cross a last bridge to a large +rock-islet standing out from the mainland, and lo! the crescent of the +coast is completed, and far to the south we see a low mountain ending +the curve; it is Spain. + + +IV. + +In the dreamy summer stillness, we sit with, content, looking at those +distant hills, listening to the lapping of the waves, watching the sun +sink lower toward the sea. The afternoon sunlight makes a glade across +the waters,--seeming to one from a western sea-board like some +strange disarrangement in the day. + +[Illustration: "HERE TOO ARE THE FISHERMEN'S CABINS."] + +The rounded mountains before us are indeed in Spain, a communicative +fisherman tells us. At the foot of the outermost, eighteen miles away, +is hidden the old Spanish town of Fuenterrabia. On its other side, in a +hollow of the coast, lies San Sebastian. Nearer us, though well down +along the sweep of the grey clay bluffs, is St. Jean de Luz, which, with +the others, lies on our intended way. + +We seem to see, conforming to the crescent of that foreign coast, the +menacing crescent of the Armada, parting from Spanish shores, just three +hundred years ago to a month, to crush Anglo-Saxon civilization. There +before us lies the land of intolerance and bigotry which gave it being, +the land of Philip the Second and his Inquisition. But for Drake and +Howard and England's "wooden walls," events would have moved differently +during the last three centuries,--in our country as in theirs. + + +V. + +The last spark of the sun has disappeared in the water. We turn into the +town in the fading light, passing another large bathing pavilion in a +sheltered cove, and saunter homeward through an undulating street, the +aorta of Biarritz. It is not a wide street, but it is busy and brisk, +and it has a refurbished look like newly scoured metal. Neat +dwelling-houses, guarded behind stone walls and well-kept hedges, +display frequent signs of furnished apartments to let Small and large +shops alternate sociably in the line; there is the _épicerie_ or +grocery-store, with raisins and olives and Albert biscuits in the +window; next is a lace and worsted shop, where black Spanish nettings +vie with gay crotchet-work,-- + + "By Heaven, it is a splendid sight to see + Their rival scarfs of mix'd embroidery," + +all made by hand, and bewilderingly low-priced. Now we come to a +mirrored café, the Frenchman's hearth-side; it compels a détour into the +middle of the street, since the sidewalk is quite preempted by its +chairs and tiny tables. Here is another Spanish store, conspicuous for +its painted tambourines with pendent webs of red and yellow worsted, and +for its spreading fans, color-dashed with exciting pictures of +bull-fights and spangled matadors. A hotel appears next, across the way, +standing back from the street, with: a small, triangular park between; +and then comes a pretentious bric-à-brac bazaar, and another café, and a +confectioner's, and a tobacco-store,--each presided over by a buxom +French matron, affable and vigilant, and clearly the animating spirit of +the establishment. + + +Tiny carriages of a peculiar species, with donkeys and boy drivers, line +the streets. The carriage holds one,--say an infirm dowager seeking the +afternoon breeze,--and if the driver's attendance is desired, he is able +to run beside it for miles. It is light and noiseless, comfortably +cushioned, always within call, and governed by a beneficently trifling +tariff. These _vinaigrettes_, as they are called, would be appreciated +at home, if habit took kindly to novelties. How greatly they might +simplify problems of calling and shopping! Our conveyances are all +cumbrous. We must have the huge barouche, the coach, the close-shut +coupé. Even the phaeton yields to the high T-cart. But convention is +autocratic, and would frown on these vinaigrettes as it frowns on many +useful ideas. Another unfortunate victim of its taboo is the +sedan-chair, which would be lustily stared at to-day, yet the utility of +which might be made positively inestimable. One who reads of the Chinese +palanquins, or sees the carrying-chairs of Switzerland, convenient and +always in demand, or who watches these agile little vinaigrettes darting +along the ways, wonders that similar devices do not force their way, if +need be, into universal favor. + +Another mode of conveyance, once peculiarly popular with Biarritz, might +be more difficult of exportation. This was the _promenade en cacolet_. +The town of Bayonne is but five miles distant, by a delightful road, and +formerly, particularly before the railroad came in, to ridicule old +ways, every one went to Bayonne _en cacolet_. It is no longer so, and +the world has lost a unique custom. The contrivance was very simple: the +motive power was a donkey or a horse, and the conveyance consisted of a +wooden frame or yoke fitting across the animal's back, with a seat +projecting from each side. One seat was for the driver, usually a lively +Basque peasant-woman; the other was for the passenger. There was a small +arm-piece, at the outside of each seat, and generally there was a +cushion. This was once a favorite means of travel between Bayonne and +Biarritz. It was expeditious, enlivening,--and highly insecure; that was +one of its charms. Throughout the ride there was a ludicrous titillation +of insecurity; but it was greatest at the start and at the finish. For, +the seats being evenly balanced, to mount was in itself high art. Driver +and passenger needed to spring at precisely the same instant, or the +result was dust and ashes. Trial after trial was needed by the neophyte; +he must be, as an eye-witness[3] of long ago aptly describes it, "as +watchful of the mutual signal as a file of soldiers who wait the command +'make ready,--present,--fire!' A second's delay,--a second's +precipitation,--proves fatal; the seat is attained, and at the same +moment up goes the opposite empty seat, and down goes the equestrian +between the horse's feet.... In descending, it is still worse; because +there is more hurry, more impatience, on arriving at the end of a +journey; and an injudicious descent does not visit its effects upon one +but upon both travelers; for unless the person who descends be extremely +quick in his motions, his seat flies up before he has quite left it, and +oversets him, and the opposite weight, of course, goes plump to the +ground,--with as fatal effects as cutting the hammock-strings of a +middy's berth." + +[3] INGLIS. + + +[Illustration] + +Perilous balancing feats and a high degree of skill were evidently +demanded of him who would journey _en cacolet_. Requiring thus a special +training, so to speak, as well as a nice equivalence in weight between +passenger and driver difficult to always realize, its use is not likely +to supersede that of wheeled vehicles. To take a ride _en cacolet_, one +might have a long hunt before finding a driver who should be his proper +counterpoise; and it would be often inconvenient, not to say +impracticable, thus to have to order one's driver according to measure. + +It is the evening dining-hour as we find ourselves at last in the open +court-yard of our hotel and seek the welcoming light of its _salle_. The +hotels of Biarritz are handsome, even to elegance,--elegance which seems +wasted on the few people now in them. But numbers do not seem to affect +the anxious concern of Continental hotel-keepers. The same elaborate and +formal table-d'hôte is served for our small company and a few others, as +will, later on, be prepared for a houseful of guests. The waiters don +the same ducal costume and with it the same grave decorum; and our +attendant Ganymede, bending respectfully to present his laden salver, +watches my selection of a portion of the pullet with as anxious +solicitude as could be shown by the mother hen herself. The solemnity of +a table-d'hôte, and the silencing effect it has on the most talkative, +is invariable, as it is inexplicable, and accents sharply the contrast +with the breezy clatter of the American summer hotel dining-hall. This +is not to say that either is, in all ways, to be preferred. Each in its +own setting. There is a comforting stir and whir about the great, bare, +sociable dining-hall at Crawford's or at the Grand Union, which causes a +European table-d'hôte utterly to pale and dwindle. And there is a +satisfying quiet, a self-respecting, ritualistic calm, in the frescoed +salle-a-manger of the Schweizerhof, or of the Grand Hotel at Biarritz, +which makes its American rival seem impetuous and unrestful, and even a +trifle garish. 'Tis hard to choose. Man and mood both vary. There is no +parallel. The two modes of dining are as wide apart as the countries +and their characteristics, and each is, in the best sense, distinctly +typical. + + +VI + +There is music during the evening in the little park we passed, and the +best of Biarritz assembles to enjoy the programme. We charter chairs +with the rest. Tables go with the chairs without extra charge, waiters +follow up the tables, and soon all the world is sipping its coffee or +cordials, and listening to Zampa. Outside, around the fence enclosing +the little park, revolves an endless procession of the poorer +people,--thrifty folk who are here as earners, not spenders, and would +not dream of melting their two sous into a chair. Round the small +enclosure they go, by couples or threes, like asteroids round the sun, +staring with interest at the more aristocratic assemblage within,--just +as the family circle stares at the boxes. And the music sings on +pleasantly for all, this mild summer evening in Biarritz. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +BAYONNE, THE INVINCIBLE. + + "I am here on purpose to visit the sixteenth century; one makes a + journey for the sake of changing not place but ideas." + + +In the morning, a dashing equipage rolls up to the doorway of the Grand +Hotel. A "breack" is its Gallicized English name. It has four white +horses, with bells on the harness, and the driver is richly bedight in a +scarlet-faced coat, blazing with buttons and silver lace; a black glazed +hat, and very white duck trousers. We ascend, the ladder is removed, the +porter bows, his thanks, the whip signals, and we roll out of the +court-yard for a six-mile drive northward to Bayonne. + +We take the sea-road in going, following the bluff as it trends +northward, and having dazzling views of blue sky and blue water. There +is a fresh, sweet, morning breeze, which exhilarates. Truly here is the +joy of travel! Kilometre-stones pass, one after another, to the rear. +Still the road presses on, winding over the downs, or between long rows +of pines and poplars standing even and equidistant for mile after mile. +The light-house at the end of the crescent beach comes nearer. Few teams +are met, and fewer travelers; for the main highway to Bayonne, which +lies inland and by which we are to return, is shorter than this, and +draws to itself the most of the traffic. + +At length, the light-house is neared, and to the right Bayonne is seen, +not far off. The breack turns to the right along the river Adour, which +here runs to the sea, and, skirting the long stone jetties, we roll +toward town by the _Allées Marines_, a wide promenade along the river, +cross the bridge, rattle through the streets, and draw up before the +hotel in the open square with a jingle and whip-cracking and general +hullaballoo which fills the street urchins with awe and gives unmixed +joy to our jolly driver. + + +II. + +Bayonne has been a centre. + +A few cities are suns, the rest planets. This, with regard to their +importance, not their size. + +If Bordeaux is the sun of southwestern French commerce, Bayonne has at +least been the most important planet, with the towns and villages of a +wide district for its satellites. + +Here we catch the first breath of the bracing mediæval air we shall +breathe in the Pyrenees. Bayonne has still a trace of the free, +out-of-door spirit of its lawless prime. Miniature epics, more than one, +have clustered around it. The rallying-cry, "Men of Bayonne!" has always +appealed to the intensest local pride to be found perhaps in France, and +the boast of the city still is that it has never been conquered. Looking +back to the sharp times when every near warfare centred about +Bayonne,--when feudal enmities were constantly outcropping on quick +pretexts,--when the issue always gathered itself into hand-to-hand +encounter, and was determined by personal prowess,--the boast is not +meaningless. + +The Basques, who are close neighbors to Bayonne, make the same boast. +As Basques and Bayonnais were always fighting, their respective boasts +seem to be continuing the conflict. But these old feuds, desperately +bitter, were after all local and guerilla-like, and the advantages +ephemeral. At few times did either people clash arms with the other in a +general war. Thus neither conquered the other, and in peace their boasts +joined hands against all comers. + + +III. + +Bestriding both the river Nive and the swift Adour, Bayonne seems a +healthy and healthful city, viewed in this June sunshine. But there is +little of the new about it. The horses are taken from the breack, we +leave at the hotel a requisition for lunch, and move forth for a survey. +The chief streets are wide and airy, but a turn places one instantly in +an older France. We ramble with curiosity in and out among the streets +and shops, finding no one preeminent attraction, but an infinite number +of minor ones which maintain the equation. In fact there is little for +the guide-book sight-seer in Bayonne. The cathedral leaves only a dim +impression of being in no wise remarkable. The citadel affords, it is +said, a wide-ranging view, but we prefer the arcades and the people to +the heat of the climb. The shops along the square are small but +characteristic; they are evidently for the Bayonnais themselves rather +than for strangers; this gives them their only charm for strangers. But +taken in its entirety and not in single effects, the town is wholly +pleasing. These dark, ancient arcades, its old houses, its rough-cobbled +pavements, its general appearance of fustiness, give it a charmingly +individual air. + +They contrast it, however, completely with Biarritz. Bayonne is a staid +and serious city, Biarritz a youthful-hearted resort. Bayonne is +reminiscent of the past; Biarritz is alive with its present. The genie +of modern improvement has not yet come, to rebuild Bayonne. Neither +fashion nor commerce has sufficiently rubbed the lamp. It holds +unlessened its long-time population of about thirty thousand souls; it +still drives its comfortable, trade as the second port of southwestern +France; it is known as enjoying a mild commercial specialty or two, as +in the line of textiles, particularly wools and woolen fabrics; and it +displays an artless pride in its reputation for excellent chocolate. It +even pets, a little suburb of winter visitors, and it has caught some +quickening rays from the summer prosperity of its neighbor. But it will +never feel the bounding impulse of rejuvenescence that has come to +Biarritz. Bayonne has no potentialities. It will continue in its +afternoon of peace, of easy, quiet thrift, contentedly aside from the +main current of events, recounting its traditions, prodigiously and +harmlessly proud of its local prestige; like a tribal chieftain of the +homage of his clan. + +[Illustration] + +Basques abound in the streets, and the varied costumes to be seen show +the influence of that strange race. There are Spaniards here, too, and +Jews in plenty, mingling with the native French element. The men wear +the _berret_, a wool cap, like that of the Scotch lowlander, but +smaller. It is of dark blue or brown, and in universal use from Bordeaux +southward. When capping the Basque, particularly, with his rusty velvet +sack, crimson sash, dark knee-breeches and stockings, and the sandals or +wooden sabots worn on the feet, its effect is vividly picturesque. The +poorer women, as elsewhere on the Continent, become hard-featured and +muscular with age; saving a few beggars, they all seem to be +busy,--carrying burdens, washing linen, watching their huckster-stalls +or the dark little shops under the arcades. Here, however, the men +themselves are not idle. One seldomer sees in southern France a sight +frequent in Italy and many other parts of Europe,--that of a woman +toilsomely dragging a hand-cart or shouldering a burden while her spouse +walks idly by and smokes a thankful pipe. + +Diminutive donkeys, hardy and hoarse, are in great use, and we hear in +the streets their plaintive and sonorous denunciations of men and +manners. The donkey here seems to take the place of the dog, which in +Holland and Scandinavia is taught the ways of constant and praiseworthy +usefulness. There, with a voluble old woman for yoke-fellow, he draws +the small market-carts about the streets and grows lusty-limbed in the +service. Here, the donkey does duty for both, dog and old woman, and +must develop both muscle and tongue to offset their respective +specialties. + + +IV. + +An afternoon of peace, such towns as Bayonne have earned and gained. +This one has added few notable pages to universal history, but its own +personal biography would be an exciting one. It is worn with adventure, +and old before its time. The quarrelings of its hot youth, the tension +of strife and insecurity, the life of alarms it has lived, have aged it. +They have aged many another city of Europe, and endeared the blessing of +repose. + +They were different days, those of the past of Bayonne. These streets +are narrow, the houses stoutly walled, because they were built for siege +as well as shelter. The doorways are low-browed, the stone-lined rooms +little lighter than caves, because every man's hand might rise against +his neighbor, and every man's hovel become his castle. Humanity was a +hopeless discord; individual security lay only in individual strength. +It is hard to conceive clearly the fierce life of the Darker Ages. The +rough jostling, the discomfort and pitilessness, the utter animality of +it all,--it is hard to conceive it even inadequately. The curtest +historical sweep from then to now, shows how far the world has come. The +savage unrest of slum and faubourg to-day shows too how far the world +has yet to go. Not till civilization becomes more than a veneer, will it +lose its liability to crack. + +The picture is not wholly dark. There were many of the humanities. There +was culture and thought and refinement, much of it of a high type. Light +and shade,--both were strongly limned. But in the mass, it was +barbarism. For the lower classes, occupation, brawling; mental +thermometer at zero; cruelty and greed the ethical code. "You should +feel here," declares Taine,[4] "what men felt six hundred years ago, +when they swarmed forth from their hovels, from their unpaved, +six-feet-wide streets, sinks of uncleanness, and reeking with fever and +leprosy; when their unclad bodies, undermined by famine, sent a thin +blood to their brutish brains; when wars, atrocious laws, and legends of +sorcery filled their dreams with vivid and melancholy images." Hear him +tell over one of the trenchant tales from the annals of Bayonne: + +[4] _Tour Through the Pyrenees_; translated by J. SAFFORD FISKE, New +York: Henry Holt & Co. + + +V. + +"Pé de Puyane was a brave man and a skillful sailor, who, in his day, +was Mayor of Bayonne and admiral; but he was harsh with his men, like +all who have managed vessels, and would any day rather fell a man than +take off his cap. He had long waged war against the seamen of Normandy, +and on one occasion he hung seventy of them to his yards, cheek by jowl +with some dogs. He hoisted on his galleys red flags, signifying death +and no quarter, and led to the battle of Écluse the great Genoese ship +Christophle, and managed his hands so well that no Frenchman escaped; +for they were all drowned or killed, and the two admirals, Quieret and +Bahuchet, having surrendered themselves, Bahuchet had a cord tightened +around his neck, while Quieret had his throat cut. That was good +management; for the more one kills of his enemies, the less he has of +them. For this reason, the people of Bayonne, on his return, entertained +him with such a noise, such a clatter of horns, of cornets, of drums and +all sorts of instruments, that it would have been impossible on that day +to hear even the thunder of God. + +"It happened that the Basques would no longer pay the tax upon cider, +which was brewed at Bayonne for sale in their country, Pé de Puyane +said that the merchants, of the city should carry them no more, and that +if any one carried them any, he should have his hand cut off. Pierre +Cambo, indeed, a poor man, having carted two hogsheads of it by night, +was led out upon the market-place, before Notre Dame de Saint-Léon, +which was then building, and had his hand amputated, and the veins +afterwards stopped with red-hot irons; after that, he was driven in a +tumbrel throughout the city, which was an excellent example; for the +smaller folk should-always do: the bidding of men in high position. + +"Afterwards, Pé de Puyane having assembled the hundred peers in the +town-house, showed them that the Basques, being traitors, rebels toward +the seigniory of Bayonne, should no longer keep the franchises which had +been granted them; that the seigniory of Bayonne, possessing the +sovereignty of the sea, might with justice impose a tax in all the +places to which the sea rose, as if they were in its port, and that +accordingly the Basques should henceforth pay for passing to +Villefranche, to the bridge of the Nive, the limit of high tide. All +cried out that that was but just, and Pé de Puyane declared the toll to +the Basques; but they all fell to laughing, saying they were not dogs of +sailors like the mayor's subjects. Then having come in force, they beat +the bridgemen, and left three of them for dead. + +"Pé said nothing, for he was no great talker; but he clinched his teeth, +and looked so terribly around him that none dared ask him what he would +do nor urge him on nor indeed breathe a word. From the first Saturday in +April to the middle of August, several men were beaten, as well +Bayonnais as Basques, but still war was not declared, and when they +talked of it to the mayor, he turned his back. + +"The twenty-fourth day of August, many noble men among the Basques, and +several young people, good leapers and dancers, came to the castle of +Miot for the festival of Saint Bartholomew. They feasted and showed off, +the whole day, and the young people who jumped the pole, with their red +sashes and white breeches, appeared adroit and handsome. That night came +a man who talked low to the mayor, and he, who ordinarily wore a grave +and judicial air, suddenly had eyes as bright as those of a youth who +sees the coming of his bride. He went down his staircase with four +bounds, led out a band of old sailors who were come one by one, +covertly, into the lower hall, and set out by dark night with several of +the wardens, having closed the gates of the city for fear that some +traitor, such as there are everywhere, should go before them. + +"Having arrived at the castle, they found the draw-bridge down and the +postern open, so confident and unsuspecting were the Basques, and +entered, cutlasses drawn and pikes forward, into the great hall. There +were killed seven young men, who had barricaded themselves behind tables +and would there make sport with their dirks, but the good halberds, well +pointed and sharp as they were, soon silenced them. The others, having +closed the gates, from within, thought that they would have power to +defend themselves or time to flee; but the Bayonne marines, with their +great axes, hewed down the planks, and split the first brains which +happened to be near. The mayor, seeing that the Basques were tightly +girt with their red sashes, went about saying, (for he was unusually +facetious on days of battle,) 'Lard these fine gallants for me! Forward +the spit into their flesh justicoats!' And, in fact, the spits went +forward so that all were perforated and opened, some through and +through, so that you might have seen daylight through them, and that the +hall, half an hour after, was full of pale and red bodies, several bent +over benches, others in a pile in the corners, some with their noses +glued to the table like drunkards, so that a Bayonnais, looking at them, +said, 'This is the veal market!' Many, pricked from behind, had leaped +through the windows, and were found next morning, with cleft head or +broken spine, in the ditches. + +"There remained only five men alive, noblemen, two named D'Urtubie, two +De Saint-Pé, and one De Lahet, whom the mayor had set aside as a +precious commodity. Then, having sent some one to open the gates of +Bayonne and command the people to come, he ordered them to set fire to +the castle. It was a fine sight, for the castle burned from midnight +until morning. As each turret, wall or floor fell, the people, +delighted, raised a great shout. There were volleys of sparks in the +smoke and flames, that stopped short, then began again suddenly, as at +public rejoicings, so that the warden, an honorable advocate and a great +literary man, uttered this saying: 'Fine festival for Bayonne folk; for +the Basques, great barbecue of hogs!' + +"The castle being burned, the mayor said to the five noblemen that he +wished to deal with them with all friendliness, and that they should +themselves be judges if the tide came as far as the bridge. Then he had +them fastened two by two to the arches, until the tide should rise, +assuring them that they were in a good place for seeing. The people were +all on the bridge and along the banks, watching the swelling of the +flood. Little by little it mounted to their breasts, then to their +necks, and they threw back their heads so as to lift their mouths a +little higher. The people laughed aloud, calling out to them that the +time for drinking had come, as with the monks at matins, and that they +would have enough for the rest of their days. Then the water entered the +mouth and nose of the three who were lowest; their throats gurgled as +when bottles are filled, and the people applauded, saying that the +drunkards swallowed too fast and were going to strangle themselves out +of pure greediness. + +"There remained only the two men D'Urtubie, bound to the principal arch, +father and son, the son a little lower down. When the father saw his +child choking, he stretched out his arms with such force that a cord +broke; but that was all, and the hemp cut into his flesh without his +being able to get any further. Those above, seeing that the youth's eyes +were rolling, while the veins on his forehead were purple and swollen, +and that the water bubbled around him with his hiccough, called him +baby, and asked why he had sucked so hard, and if nurse was not coming +soon to put him to bed. At this, the father cried out like a wolf, spat +into the air at them, and called them butchers and cowards. That +offended them so, that they began throwing stones at him, with such sure +aim that his white head was soon reddened and his right eye gushed out; +it was small loss to him, for shortly after the mounting wave shut up +the other. + +"When the water was gone down, the mayor commanded that the five bodies, +which hung with necks twisted and limp, should be left a testimony to +the Basques that the water of Bayonne did come up to the bridge and that +the toll was justly due from them. He then returned home amidst the +acclamations of his people, who were delighted that they had so good a +mayor, a sensible man, a great lover of justice, quick in wise +enterprises, and who rendered to every man his due." + + +VI. + +One asks where were the preceding ages of civilization. Where was the +influence of Babylonia and Egypt, of Athens and of Rome? Here in +mid-Europe, nearly two thousand years after Socrates, and in the second +millenary of the white light of Christianity, men were like wolves, nay +worse, rending their prey or each other not under the lashing of hunger +but from very ferocity. + +By way of contrast, take a fête given in Bayonne in happier years. An +account of it, garnered from old records, I translate from the French of +Lagrèze.[5] Elizabeth, sister of Charles IX and wife of Philip of Spain, +was returning from the Baths of Cauterets and passing through the city; +the fête was in her honor. Charles was there, the King of France, with +the queen-mother, Catherine de Medici; Marguerite of Valois, and her +future husband, the young Henry of Navarre. + +[5] LAGRÈZE: _La Société et les Moeurs en Béarn._ + + +"The place for the fête had been well chosen: it was an isle of the +Adour. In the centre, a border of ancient oaks encircling a grassy glade +framed it round into a kind of arboreal parlor. Under the shade of these +great trees, in the multitude of their leafy nooks, were disposed the +tables. That of royalty rose in the midst, elevated above all the rest; +it was reached by four grassy steps. + +"Decorated barges transported the guests to the enchanted isle; at their +approach, in honor of the arrival, strains of soft music fell upon the +ear. The musicians represented Neptune, Arion, six tritons, three +sirens, and numberless minor marine deities; the sirens chanted sweet +songs of romance and chivalry, seeking to approve the fabled charm of +siren voices. + +"Rivulets of water, skillfully led in along tiny grooves, serpentined +among the parterres, half hidden in rare and brilliant flowers. Dainty +shepherdesses in waiting line stretched hand in hand to the water's +edge, and formed a species of avenue leading to the table of honor. + +"In advance of the retinue went Orpheus and Linus, accompanied by three +nymphs, reciting verses to their Majesties,--who had, however, at this +moment, more eyes than ears, and could not cease admiring the bevy of +shepherdesses in their picturesque costumes, brightly colored and so +varied. These shepherdesses, forming afterward into separate groups, +each group the graceful rival of the next, wore the costumes of the +different provinces and danced to music the respective dances there in +usage: those of Poitiers to the music of the bagpipe, those of Provence +to the kettle-drums, the Champenoises to the small hautboys, the violins +and the tambourines, and so for the rest. + +"The aged trees which covered with shade the banqueting tables formed a +vast octagonal hall, in the centre of which rose in all its majesty a +gigantic oak-tree. At its base vaulted the jet of a fountain, the limpid +waters springing from a basin of glittering shells. + +"The table of honor was taken by the king; his mother, Catherine de +Medici; the Duke of Anjou, who was afterward to become Henry III; the +Queen of Spain; Henry of Navarre, (afterward Henry IV,) and Margot, his +future wife. + +"The repast was served with promptness. Six proficient bagpipe-players +went before five shepherds and ten shepherdesses, who advanced three by +three, each bearing a salver. Six stewards guided them by crooks +ornamented by flowers. Following this, eight shepherds and sixteen +shepherdesses made the service at the other tables; one and two advanced +at a time, depositing their salvers and retiring to make way for others. + +"At the latter part of the repast, appeared six violin-players, +resplendent in tinseled garb; also nine nymphs of a marvelous beauty; a +swarm of musicians accompanied them, disguised as satyrs. + +"Toward nightfall, to the astonishment of all, suddenly shone out a +luminous rock lit up with fantastic glow; out of which came forth as by +magic countless naiads, their soft robes glistening with jewels; they +dart out upon the sward and join in a fair and lissome dance." + +But one thing was wanting to crown this princely picnic,--a storm. It +came. Says the queen Margot, who was pleased to relate herself the +details of this fête: "Envious Fortune, unable to suffer the glory of +this fair dance, hurled upon us a strange rain and tempest; and the +confusion of the sudden evening retreat by boat across the river brought +out next day as many mirthful anecdotes as the lavish festival itself +had brought gratifications." + +Such was a _fête champêtre_ in the sixteenth century,--filled in with +all the luxuriant pomp and splendor which the French love so dearly. + +Yet, only seven years after this scene of flowers and song, France was +in blood, and the age had darkened once more; the evil-minded De +Medicis, queen-mother and king, had given the signal for the Massacre of +St. Bartholomew. + + +VII. + +It was Bayonne, too, whose governor, when ordered in advance by the king +to arrange for massacring the Huguenots in his city on that epoch-making +night, dared to send back a prompt and spirited refusal. "Your Majesty," +he reported, "I have examined those under my command touching your +mandate; all are good citizens and brave soldiers, but I am unable to +find for you among them a single executioner!" + +The Queen of Spain, widow of Charles II, resided here from 1706 until +1738. Many stories are told of her good-heartedness and her lavish +fondness for display. The Bayonnais were children still, and loved her +for it. She, too, gave a festival and banquet,--in honor of some Spanish +successes; "it lasted even till the next day among the people, and on +board the vessels in the river; and the windows of every house were +illuminated.... After the repast was finished," adds the grave record, +"much to the satisfaction of all, a _panperruque_ was danced through the +town. M. de Gibaudière led the dance, holding the hand of the Mayor of +Bayonne; the Marquis de Poyanne bringing up the rear; so that this dance +rejoiced all the people, who on their side gave many demonstrations of +joy." + +The world has grown stiffer since, and Mayors and Marquises are no +longer wont to caper about the streets of great cities in the sportive +_abandon_ of a festival dance; in those days it seems not to have abated +a jot of their serious dignity. + +Bayonne is the key to all roads south and east. It has a superb citadel. +It has been a valuable military position, has withstood seventeen sieges +in its day, and is still an important strategic point. Here were +exciting times during the Peninsular war, when Wellington on his +northward march from Spain found Bayonne in his way and undertook to +capture it. More a fancy than a fact, however, is probably the tradition +that the bayonet was invented in this locality and took its name from +the city. The story of the Basque regiment running short of ammunition +and being prompted by the exigency to insert their long-handled knives +into the musket-muzzles, has since had grave doubts cast upon its +veraciousness. This is most unfortunate, for it was a story which +travelers delighted to honor. + + +VIII. + +It is mid-afternoon as our breack clatters out again over the paved +roadway of the bridge and we turn westward along the river for the +return to Biarritz. A few vessels stand idly moored to the quays. The +_Allées Marines_ are quiet and still; later they will be thronged. They +are the favorite promenade of Bayonne, which thus holds here a species +of daily "town-meeting" as the dusk comes on. At present we see merely a +few old women bearing panniers toward the city, and rope-makers at work +upon great streamers of hemp which stretch from tree to tree. Soon we +turn off to the southward, and are on the main highway to Biarritz. + +This highway sees a considerable traffic. Bayonne furnishes carts, +Biarritz carriages. Omnibuses ply to and fro; market-barrows are drawn +frequently past; burden-bearers and peasants are met or overtaken +trudging contentedly on. The latter cheat both the omnibus and +themselves, for the fare is but a trifle, and the road hot and sandy. It +is abundantly shaded by trees, but we agree that it is far better +enjoyed _en breach_ than on foot. + +This is the road once famous for the _cacolet_. It must have been a +pleasing and peculiar sight, in the years ago, to see the jolly Duchess +of Berri and her fashionable companions sociably hobnobbing with their +peasant drivers _en cacolet_ in the pleasant summer afternoons. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SAINT JOHN OF LIGHT. + + "_Guibelerat so'guin eta + Hasperrenak ardura?_" + + "As we pursue our mountain track, + Shall we not sigh as we look back?" + +--Basque Song. + + +The days pass happily by, at Biarritz. One quickly feels the charm of +the place; it has its own delightfulness, apart from the season and its +amusements. In the season, however, the amusements are not once allowed +to flag. By half-past ten, fashion is astir and gathers toward the beach +for the bathing hour; then parts to walk and drive, and afterward to +lunch. It takes its siesta as does the nation its neighbor; meets once +more for the afternoon hour on the sands, and at six drifts to the +Casino, where children are soon dancing, little glasses clinking, and +mild gambling games in full swing. The thought of dinner deepens with +the dusk, but in the evening the tide sets again to the Casino, and a +concert or a ball rounds up the day. + +The scope of diversions is much the same as on the opposite edge of the +Atlantic,--with due allowance for national types; but here there is +perhaps more color to the scene. European watering-places are naturally +cosmopolitan. Here at Biarritz, English society mingles with the +French, and both are strongly reinforced from Spain. Only thirteen hours +from Paris, or twenty-two, actual travel, from London, it is but one +from the Spanish frontier and eighteen from Madrid. Memories of Orleans, +Pavia and the Armada are canceled in the common pursuit of pleasure. + + "Three hosts combine to offer sacrifice; + Three tongues prefer strange orisons on high; + Three gaudy standards flout the pale blue skies; + The shouts are, France, Spain, Albion, Victory!" + +There is besides a goodly sprinkling from other countries. A Russian +nobleman and his family are to arrive at our hotel to-morrow. The spot +is not difficult of access for Italians. The Austrians have long +appreciated it. And do we not constitute at least a small contingent +from across the ocean? + +Not only visitors make up the parti-colored effect. There are all grades +in Biarritz,--visitors and home-stayers, rich and poor,-- + + "From point and saucy ermine, down + To the plain coif and rustic gown." + +The natives have their peculiar air and customs, and the Basques are +always picturesque. Spanish guitar-players vie with Neapolitan harpists, +and both with the waves and the hum of talk. The lottery spirit shoots +up here from its hot-bed in Spain. Small boys wander about the beach +with long, cylindrical tin boxes painted a bright red and carried by a +strap from the shoulder. The rim of the lid is marked off into numbered +compartments, and in its centre is an upright teetotum with a bone +projection; while the cylinder itself is filled with cones of crisp, +flaky sweet-wafers, stacked one into another like cornucopias. The +charge is one sou for a spin, and the figure opposite which the +projecting bone-piece stops indicates the number of cones due the +spinner. The figures vary from 2 to 30, and there are no blanks. Every +one appears to patronize the contrivance, and you constantly hear the +click of the teetotum along the beach. Though there are but two 30's in +the circumference, each who spins fondly hopes to gain one, and thus the +same spirit which supports Monte Carlo in splendor gives these boys a +thriving trade. + + +II. + +We spend an idle morning on the projecting point of bluff overlooking +the coves and the fishermen's cabins. This promontory uplifts a +signal-station, the _Atalaye_. Down at the left and rear, cutting +inland, is the _Port Vieux_, where the second bathing pavilion stands; +and, sending up their cries and shoutings to the heights, we + + "see the children sport along the shore, + And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore." + +The day is breezy and not too warm. We feel few ambitions. Has the +dreamy spirit of the South come upon us so soon? + +It will be a perfect spot for a picnic lunch. + +We will imitate the _fête champêtre_ of Charles and Catherine held on +the isle of the Adour. The ladies give their sanction, and three of us +are promptly appointed commissaries. We take the path down to the +street, and find a promising little grocery-store. The madame bows a +welcome. + +"Can one obtain here of the bread?" we ask. + +"Ah, no," deprecatingly, "that is only with the baker." + +"A little of cheese, then? and some Albert biscuits? And a bottle or two +of lemonade, and one of light wine?" + +"But yes, without doubt; monsieur shall have these instantly;" and a +bright-faced little girl proceeds to collect the supplies. + +"Might one carry away the bottles, and afterward return them?" we +venture. + +Here the madame begins to appear suspicious. It is evidently an +irregular purchase at best, and this request seems to make her a trifle +frosty. + +"A deposit should perhaps be necessary," we suggest; "how much is +desired?" + +Madame gives the subject a moment's thought. "Monsieur would have to +leave at least four sous on each bottle," she finally declares. + +"And could madame also lend us some small drinking-glasses, it may be, +and a little corkscrew?" + +The old lady is visibly hardening. She is clearly averse to mysteries. +We may be contrabandists, or political exiles, or any variety of refugee +foreigners. She hesitates about the drinking-glasses; is not sure she +_has_ a corkscrew. But another deposit is soothingly arranged for and +paid, and the articles are found. + +"And now could we ask to borrow a basket?--also on deposit." + +But here the madame's obligingness quite deserts her. The refusal is +flat. She has no basket which can possibly be spared. + +It is, we see, plainly time that we should explain our mysterious +selections. Confidingly we entrust her with the secret, and lay bare +our unconventional plan. At the first she listens unmoved, but the idea +of "pique-nique" is soon borne in upon her, and lets in a ray of light. +The frost thaws a trifle. "We are with friends," we say; "they are on +the bluffs; they have desired to make a luncheon for once without the +fork,--to eat their little breads in the open air, upon the rocks." Our +listener nods, half doubtfully. Then we play our highest trump: "We are +but on a visit to Biarritz; we have come from far away; we are +Americans." + +Instantly the barriers are down; madame is our firmest ally. "Run, +Élise, seek the large pannier for our friends! Is it that you are of the +fair America?--_la belle Amérique._ Ah, but monsieur, why have you not +said thus before? You should most charmingly have been supplied; are +they not indeed always the friends of our country,--the Americans! You +shall bring here the breads you buy at the bakery; we will add knives +and plates and some fruit, and Élise shall herself carry for you the +full basket to the place of the pique-nique." + +Verily the Stars and Stripes are words to conjure with! The picnic is a +complete success. The De Medici fête is more than surpassed; even an +attendant nymph, in the person of the rustic Élise, is not wanting; the +historical parallel is perfect. + +In fact, the parallel finally carries itself too far. So small an affair +even as this, it appears, cannot escape the hostility of "envious +Fortune,"--the same who untimely cut off its lamented rival. A large, +black cloud, coming up over us like a vengeful harpy, forebodes the +invariable downpour, and grimly compels us to shorten the feast. + +On Sunday, we attend the English service; Britain is sufficiently well +represented at Biarritz to support one during both summer and winter. +The day is restful and calm, and we stroll out afterward along the beach +and over to the deserted villa of the Empress, returning by the path on +the bluff. The sound of trowels and hammers is in part stilled about the +town, and the afternoon takes on a comfortingly peaceful tone in +consequence. The English-speaking contingent keeps the day as quietly as +may be; the Continental majority of course does not. In a few weeks, +posters will adorn the Saturday bulletins, announcing the next day's +bull-fight in San Sebastian, over the border; and if Sunday is quiet at +Biarritz in the season, it is simply because all the world spends the +day at San Sebastian. + + +III. + +But Spain and the Pyrenees lie before us, and we cannot tarry longer at +Biarritz. We shall long feel the warm life of the fresh June days by the +sea. The breack rolls again into the court-yard; we pay our devoirs to +mine host and our dues to his minions, and once more we start, this time +toward the south. + +We are to dip into Spain for a day, and have chosen to go by road as far +on the way toward the frontier as St. Jean de Luz, before taking the +train. St. Jean lies on the crescent of the shore only eight miles away, +and the road, like the sea-road to Bayonne, follows the curve of the +higher land, and shows beach and hill and sea in turn as it trends over +the downs. It is another clear, taintless morning. The sun is already +high; but, though having the sky wholly to himself, he is forbearing in +his power. Palisades of poplars lend us their shadows; clumps of +protecting firs stand aside for the road, each with a great gash down +its side and a cup fastened below to catch the bleeding pitch. Now we +are facing the Pyrenees; a little to the left they rise before us, still +miles away. These are not the high Pyrenees; the monarchs stand in the +centre of their realm, and are hardly to be seen, even distantly, until +we shall in a day or two turn inland and approach them. The mountain +wall is broken and lower near the sea, both east and west; yet even here +it rises commandingly, filling the horizon with its hazy hills. + +The road is the counterpart of that to Bayonne. We fly smoothly on, +above its hard, thin crackle of sand. We meet peasants afoot, and +burdened horses, on their morning way to Biarritz or Bayonne. The men +ornament their loose, blue linen frocks and brown trousers with the +bright scarlet sash so popular in this region. Heavy oxen draw their +creaking loads toward the same centres,--their bowed heads yoked by the +horns, which are cushioned with a woolly sheepskin mat and tasseled with +red netting. They pull strongly, for the loads are not light, and the +clumsy wheels are disks of solid wood. Little donkeys trot amiably by, +with huge double panniers that recall the _cacolet_. A file of marching +soldiers is overtaken; small villages are passed, each one agog with the +stir of our transit; while now and then we meet a dog-cart and cob or a +stylish span, antennae of the coming season of fashion. + +To the right is the accurate level of the sea-horizon; about us are the +heath and furze and the sand-dunes; and far along to the south we can +trace the arc of the beach, until it ends in the projecting hills of +Spain. + + * * * * * + +St. Jean is reached almost too soon, for the drive has been +exhilarating. We enter by a long, narrow street, which is found to be +alive with people. A small procession is in motion, enlivened by a band. +Every one seems in holiday dress. Our driver has before shown his easy +conviction that streets were intended first for breacks, secondly for +citizens; and now he urges his horses down this narrow way without a +pause in their gallop. The whip signals, the bells on the harness jingle +furiously, the wheels clatter along the cobbles; and, almost before we +have time to order a slackening, procession and by-standers, like a +flock of sheep, go in disorder to the wall, and our breack sweeps by +into the central square. + +[Illustration] + +It is the festival, we find, of the village's patron saint, St. John the +Baptist. The twenty-fifth of June renews his yearly compact of +protection. In the afternoon, there will be the full procession, led by +the priests, and with a canopied effigy of the saint or of the Virgin +borne in solemnity behind them. Services in the cathedral will follow, +and probably an evening of illumination. We enter the cathedral. Its +floor has been newly strewn with sweet hay, and near the altar, is the +sacred image itself, adorned for the procession, dressed in linen and +velvet and gilt lace, and with a chaplet of beads in its wooden hand. +The canopy-frame, ready prepared, is close by, with its projecting +handle-bars, its four upright poles and its roof of white satin +embroidered with gold. + +The cathedral itself is somewhat more interesting than we expected to +see; it is a Basque rather than a French church, has a very high chancel +and altar and no transepts, and the altar is marked by a striking +profusion of color and of gilding, which does not degenerate into the +tawdry and which lights up vividly under the entering noon light. The +chapels at the sides are similarly decorated. Dark oaken balconies, +elaborately carved, run in three tiers along the upper part of the nave. +The seats in these are reserved for the men, the women being relegated +to small black cushions placed on the chairless floor. + +St. Jean's one great event was the marriage of Louis XIV with the +Infanta of Spain, which took place in this same church. "A raised +platform extended from the residence of Anne of Austria to the entrance +of the church, which was richly carpeted. The young queen was robed in a +royal mantle of violet-colored velvet, powdered with _fleurs-de-lis_, +over a white dress, and wore a crown upon her head. Her train was +carried by Mesdemoiselles d'Alençon and de Valois and the Princess of +Carignan. After the ceremony, the queen complained of fatigue, and +retired for a few hours to her chamber where she dined alone. In the +evening, she received the court, dressed in the French style; and gold +and silver tokens commemorative of the royal marriage were profusely +showered from the windows of her apartment."[6] + +[6] MISS PARDOE: _Louis XIV_. + + * * * * * + +Without, as we turn for an idle stroll, we find a fair-sized town, with +provincial streets like much of Bayonne. Often the stories of the +houses jut out, one over the other. These projections give a relish of +local color to the crooking ways, intensified by the round-tiled roofs +and by occasional red or blood-colored beams and doorposts. Although we +are still on the French side of the frontier, Spanish influence is +already marked, while that of the Basques predominates over both. St. +Jean is also a summer resort, in a modest way, chiefly for quiet Spanish +families; and from the heavy stone sea-wall built along the beach we see +many of their villas. In days before the railroad went beyond, the port +exchanged regular and almost daily steamers with San Sebastian and +Santander, thus connecting with the Spanish rail, and giving a rather +important traffic advantage. It fostered, besides, extensive cod-fishing +and even whaling enterprises. Its harbor has suffered since; the rails +too have gone through to Spain, and St. Jean is left mildly and +interestingly mournful, in its lessened power, its decayed gentility. + + +IV. + +In St. Jean de Luz, we are fairly in the country of the Basques. One +sees so many of that singular people in the streets, and along the +Biscayan shore generally, that inquiries about them are almost forced +upon the attention. The Basques are still the curiously ill-explained +race they have always been; the learned still disagree over their +origin, and the world at large scarcely knows of them more than the +name. They are scattered all through this lower sea-corner of France, +shading off near Bayonne; and are in yet greater numbers in the +adjoining upper edges of Spain. It seems strange that the beginnings of +this isolated race should to-day be almost no better settled than in the +time of Humboldt or Ramond. Yet they contrive still to embroil the +philologists and historians. Here the race has lived, certainly since +the days of the Romans, probably since long before, out of kin with all +the world, and the world's periods have passed on and left them. No one +knows their birth-mark; they have forgotten it themselves. Of theories, +numberless and hopelessly in discord, each still offers its weighty +arguments, and each destroys the certainty of any. + +This appears incredible. What mystery is insoluble in the sharp light of +modern research? Yet until the defenders of the view that the Basques +came from Atlantis can make truce with the advocates of their Phoenician +origin,--until the well-attested theory of their affinity with certain +South American races can overthrow the better-attested theory that they +are the remains of the ancient Iberians,--until Moor and Finn,[7] Tartar +and Coptic, can amicably blend their claims to relationship, the Basques +must remain as they are,--foundlings; or rather, a race whose length of +pedigree has swallowed up its beginnings. + +[7] It is said that the Basque nomenclature of domestic animals is +almost entirely Finnish. + + +It is these unattached sea and mountain races who are always hardest to +conquer. Hence the boast of the Basques. Even the Romans, though they +could defeat, could not subdue them. The strong Roman fortress of +Lapurdum (now Bayonne) did not succeed in even terrifying them, though +they were worsted several times by its legions. Down through all the +early part of the long Christian era, the forefathers of these +frank-faced fishers and mountaineers we see here in the streets of St. +Jean kept their hills stubbornly to themselves. Later, as much perhaps +from policy as necessity, the race came gradually to fall in with the +general governments crystallizing about them. The Spanish Basques came +first into the traces, though not until the thirteenth century; they +were then finally incorporated into the Castilian monarchy. But they +claimed and held marked rights in compensation. While special +privileges--_fueros_--were accorded to certain other provinces as well +as to them, theirs were the widest and endured the longest. They had +five special exemptions: they were not subject to military conscription; +nor to certain imposts and taxes, (paying a gross composition in their +place;) nor in general to trial outside their province; nor to the +quartering of troops; nor to any regulations of their internal affairs +beyond that of the _corregidor_, a representative magistrate appointed +by the king. These _fueros_ lasted in substance even up to 1876, when +Alfonso's government finally repealed them. While thus the Spanish +Basques have, even under allegiance, held stoutly to the right of +virtual self-government, their brethren north of the Pyrenees long +preserved a still fuller autonomy, only coming into the national fold of +France under the impetus of the Revolution. + +Thus the Basques have a stiff record of independence; it keeps them in +no little esteem, both with themselves and with their neighbors. Trains, +travel, traffic, eat into their solidarity, and may in time disintegrate +it; but a Basque has not yet lost a particle of his pride of clan; it is +inborn and ineradicable; he would be no other than he is; "_je ne suis +pas un homme_" he boasts, "_je suis un Basque_." You note instinctively +his straighter bearing among the neighboring French peasantry; you can +often single out a Basque by his air. This hardens into a peculiar +result: since they are all of the same high lineage, all are +aristocrats; every Basque is _ex officio_ a nobleman; this is seriously +meant and seriously believed. There are no degrees of caste, the highest +is the only; the entire race is blood-proud, ancestor-proud. A Basque +family might not improbably have been the originators of that celebrated +family tree which remarked, in a marginal note only midway back, that +"about this time the Creation took place." + +They are not stilted in their pride, however; your true Basque cares +much for his descent and little for its dignities. "Where the McGregor +sits," he would affirm, "there is the head of the table," and so he +cares nothing about the nominal headship. He lives a free, busy life in +the hill-country or near the sea, stalwart, swarthy, a lover of the open +air, apt at work and sufficiently enterprising, self-respecting, "proud +as Lucifer and combustible as his matches," in no case pinchingly poor, +but rarely rich, and never in awe of his own coat-of-arms. + +Writers uniformly take a wicked pleasure in maligning the Basque +language. Its spelling and syntax, its words and sentences, its methods +of construction, are openly derided. Unusual word-forms and distended +proper names are singled out and held up to jeers and contumely. A +Spanish proverb asserts that as to pronunciation the Basques write +"Solomon" and pronounce it "Nebuchadnezzar." The devil, it is alleged, +studied for seven years to learn the Basque tongue; at the end of that +time he had mastered only three words and abandoned the task in disgust. +"And the result is," adds a vivacious writer, "that he is unable to +tempt a Basque, because he cannot speak to him, and that consequently +every Basque goes straight to heaven. Unfortunately, now that the +population is beginning to talk French, (which the devil knows terribly +well,) this privilege is disappearing." + +Overhearing disjointed Basque phrases on the Biarritz beach or here in +the streets and cafés of St. Jean, one will not blame the devil's +discouragement. There is scarcely one familiar Aryan syllable. For +centuries their speech was not even a written one; there is said to be +no book in Basque older than two hundred years. But, its strangeness and +isolation once allowed for, there is in reality much to defend in the +Basque language. As spoken, it is far from being harsh, and falls +pleasantly, often softly, on the ear; the sounds are clear, the +articulations rarely, hurried as with the French. The words, other than +a few proper names, do not exceed a sober and reasonable length, and as +to spelling, every letter has its assigned use and duty; there are no +phonetic drones. The original root-forms are short and always +recognizable; the full words grow from these by an orderly if intricate +system of inflections and the forming of derivatives. + +The inflections are, it must be admitted, intricate. Each noun boasts +two separate forms, and each of its declension-cases keeps a group of +sub-cases within reach for special emergencies. There are only two +regularly ordained verbs,--"to be" and "to have"; but they don different +canonicals for each different ceremony, and their varying garbs seem +fairly without limit. In the Grammaire Basque of M. Gèze, published in +Bayonne, I count no less than one hundred and eight pages of +closely-set tables needed to paint the opalescent hues of these +multiform auxiliaries,--and this only in one dialect, out of six in all. +M. Chaho, an essayist of weight and himself a Basque, informs us +artlessly and seriously that one counts a thousand and forty-five forms +for their combined present indicatives, and a trifle over ten thousand +forms for the two fully expanded verbs; and yet the language, he hastens +to add, is so magically simple that even a Basque child never makes an +error! + +As to its appearance in print, the reader may judge for himself, for +here is one of their favorite love-songs. These light songs abound, many +being surprisingly delicate and dainty. + + BASQUE SONG + + "_Chorittoua, nourat houa, + Bi hegalez airian? + Espanalat jouaiteco, + Elhurra duc bortean. + Algarreki jouanen guiuc + Elhurra hourtzen denian._ + + "_San Josefen ermita + Desertion gora da. + Espanalat jouaiteco, + Han da goure pausada. + Guibelerat so'guin eta + Hasperrenak ardura?_ + + "_Hasperrena, habiloua + Maitiaren borthala. + Bihotzian sar hakio + Houra eni beçala; + Eta guero erran izoc + Nic igorten haidala._" + +A graceful English version of the above is in existence, and will fitly +complement its original: + + "Borne on thy wings amidst the air, + Sweet bird, where wilt thou go? + For if thou wouldst to Spain repair, + The ports are filled with snow. + Wait, and we will fly together, + When the Spring brings sunny weather. + + "St. Joseph's hermitage is lone, + Amidst the desert bare, + And when we on our way are gone, + Awhile we'll rest us there; + As we pursue our mountain track, + Shall we not sigh as we look back? + + "Go to my love, O gentle sigh, + And near her chamber hover nigh; + Glide to her heart, make that thy shrine, + As she is fondly kept in mine. + Then thou mayst tell her it is I + Who sent thee to her, gentle sigh!" + +--COSTELLO. + +In regard to length of words, there exist undoubtedly some surprising +examples, but they are merely compound expressions and quite in analogy +with those of better known and less abused tongues. The German, for one, +indulges in such with notorious yet unrebuked frequency. One is +naturally startled at encountering in Basque such imbrications as +_Izarysaroyarenlarrearenbarena_, or _Ardanzesaroyareniturricoburua_, +which are actual names of places in Spanish Basque-land; but they are +mercifully rare, and when analyzed prove to be rational and even poetic +formations, laden with a full equivalent of import,--the first of the +above two signifying "the centre of the field of the mountain of the +star," and the second, "the summit of the fountain of the mountain of +the vine." + +These be scarcely fair samples, however. Commoner words and some of +their more musical phrases are instanced in the following, taken in the +dialect of this region of St. Jean: + + _Haran_, Valley. + _Etchelde_, Farm. + _Ogi_, Bread. + _Egur_, Wood. + _Maraza_, Hatchet. + _Nekarsale_, Workman. + _Aita_, My father. + _Lo_, Sleep. + _Etche_, House. + _Etchetar_, Household. + _Nerhaba_, Child. + _Nescatcha_, Maiden. + _Zorioneko_, Happy. + _Ama_, My mother. + _Neure maiteak_, My loved ones. + +Home words, such as these latter, give a glimpse of this people's home +life. For they are devoted to their household as to their tribe, and +uniformly show a certain homely honesty and simplicity underneath all +their free ways. Love of smuggling does not impugn this honesty,--in +their own view, at all events; for the Basque, man and woman, is a born +smuggler, and believing it right is not ashamed. Indeed, they make +common cause of it; for years, if a revenue officer detected and shot a +Basque in the act, he had to fly the land at once, for the entire +neighborhood united in seeking hot and deadly vengeance. + +The race is notably fond of dancing and drama, and the villages hold +frequent open-air theatricals, generally upon religious themes, which +they always handle with great seriousness. They have at intervals unique +contests in improvisation, rivaling Wolfram and Tannhaüser, or the +Meistersingers, in this special talent. They are fruitful, too, in +proverb lore, as would be expected in an old race. Their wise saws are +sharp, often rasping: + + "Hard bread makes sharp teeth." (_Ogi gogorrari haguin sorroza_.) + + "One eye suffices the seller; the buyer has need of a hundred." + + "Marriage-day is the next day after happiness." + + "Avarice, having killed a man, took refuge in the Church; it has + never gone out since." + +Husbandmen, herdsmen, fishermen,--such are the majority. The farms are +small, averaging four or five acres, and descend by primogeniture; flax, +hemp, corn, are their staples. Basques were the first whalers, so it is +declared, and St. Jean used to be a noted port for their vessels; the +whales have since sought more northern banks, and St. Jean is reduced to +the humbler quest of sardines and anchovies. There are iron-mines and +marble-quarries, besides, to engage many; hunting and logging are +favored pursuits; Basque sailors are to be found in all waters, while +great numbers of the younger men are now yearly emigrating to the South +American coasts, to make a better living,--and to avoid conscription. + +Those of the race we see in our transit impress one, on the whole, +favorably. The men have, in the main, the lithe, firm port attributed to +them, though there are Basque "trash," as there are Georgia "crackers," +and average-lesseners everywhere. The women are often noticeably +attractive; the younger ones have a ruddy face and full, clear eye, but +the skin shrivels and wears with middle age, as does that of their +French peasant sisters. The Basques about Biarritz and St. Jean appear +to associate with the French element in entire amity; the race strives +still to keep distinct, but habits and idioms and manners imperceptibly +mingle; they speak French or patois quite as much as their own tongue, +and in divers ways hint at the working of amalgamation and assimilation. + +Mention of this bizarre tribe is perhaps not untimely; the leveling +process progresses fast, over Basque-land as in all the world; steam and +lightning are the genii of the age, but they destroy while they build. +As a significant straw, the French government enforces here, in the +public schools, the teaching and speaking of French to supersede the +Basque. Similarly, Spanish is required in the schools over the border. +In some of these, a child detected in a lapse into Basque must wear a +certain ring, which he is allowed to pass on to the first companion he +catches likewise tripping. The latter may pass it on in turn. At the end +of the week comes the reckoning-day, and the unhappy individual then +found with the ring is, punished for the collective sinners of the week. +Few more ingenious, even if demoralizing, expedients could be devised to +put the native tongue and sentiments under ban. + +"It has been truthfully observed," says one,[8] "that, in ancient times, +the Basques kept themselves outside of the Roman world; in the middle +age they remained outside of feudal society; while to-day they would +fain keep out of the modern world. The spectacle of this little +confederacy, steadily maintaining its isolation for so many centuries, +is most interesting, and, in some aspects, affecting; but the very +stubbornness and the prolonged success of its resistance to all attempts +to draw it into the current of modern life and thought only enhances the +significance of its ultimate failure, and furnishes an expressive +commentary upon the futility of a people's most determined efforts to +hold itself aloof from the brotherhood of nations. Contact is God's +manifest decree. The five Basques at Bayonne bridge, helpless against +the incoming tide, present a truthful prophecy of the destiny of the +whole race before the advancing and mounting wave of modern +civilization." + +[8] VINCENT: _In the Shadow of the Pyrenees_. New York: Charles +Scribner's Sons. + + +V. + +In this region, too, lies the famous pass of Ibañeta or Roncesvalles. It +may be readily visited in a two days' excursion from St. Jean or from +Biarritz. There is a carriage-road to Valcarlos, a small village on the +way; beyond, a mule-path winds on up through the pass and down to the +convent on the other side. + +This convent was founded to commemorate the one greatest tradition of +the pass,--the destruction of Charlemagne's rear-guard by the Basques in +ambush and the death of the hero Roland. + + "Oh for a blast of that dread horn + On Fontarabian echoes borne + That to King Charles did come; + When Rowland brave and Olivier + And every paladin and peer + On Roncesvalles died!" + +Of the few writers who have visited this region, all make airy mention +of the battle of Roncesvalles; scarcely one, however, condescends to +details. Yet it gave rise to a great epic poem,--the greatest epic of +France, the delight of all her ancient minstrels. One often hears named +the _Song of Roland_; one seldom hears more than the name. By many the +charm of its story is all unknown. + +"In truth and fact," observes a recent anonymous writer, "the chain can +claim one single real legend. That one, however, is so great, so grand, +so dominating,--it is so immense, so universal, so world-wide,--that it +suffices all alone; it creates a doctrine by itself, it needs no aid, no +support, no companions,--it is the mighty tale of Roland. The mountain +is full of Roland. His hands, his feet, his horse, his sword, his voice, +have left their puissant mark on almost every crest, in almost every +glen. Above Gavarnie, amidst the eternal snow, gapes the slashed fissure +hewn by Durandal, his sword; ten miles off in a gorge you see the +indents of the hoofs of Bayard on a rock which served as his half-way +touching-point when he sprang in two flying bounds from the Breach to +the Peak of the Chevalier near St. Sauveur. At the Pass of Roland, above +Cambo, the rock remains split open where the hero stamped and claimed a +passage. The ponds of Vivier Lion, near Lourdes, were dug by the +pressure of his foot and knee when Vaillantif, a charger which carried +him in his last fight, but who was then unbroken, had the audacity to +throw him. At St. Savin, where the monks had lodged him, he paid his +bill by slaying the irreverent giants, Passamont and Alabaster, whose +neighborhood, was unpleasant to the convent. And so on, all about. His +tremendous figure is everywhere, all full of the superbest violence and +of the most wondrous acrobatry. But it is at Roncesvalles that his great +name is greatest. There, where he died, his memory lives in an unfading +halo. In Spain, beneath the Peak of Altabiscar amongst the beech groves, +on the 15th of August, 778, perished the astounding paladin. The _Song +of Roland_ tells how he fell, not quite exactly but very amazingly; the +story is so intensely interesting that the reader is carried away by it +and finds himself for a moment almost able to believe it. It does not +matter that the defeat is attributed to the Saracens, not one of whom +was present, (the whole thing having been got up and carried out by the +Basques alone;) that error was indispensable to the tale, and gives it +much of its strange charm." + +There is an excellent reason why the poem might fail in sharp historical +accuracy; it was not formally composed until between three and four +hundred years after the battle. The event itself happened in 778; the +first known MS. was made, by a scribe, about 1150. All during the long +interval, ballad-singers and minstrels had been extolling France and +Roland; the love of the heroic was as strong as before Homer; the hero's +name had grown: with his fame into titanic proportions; the actual +author, (conjectured to have been one Turoldus or Theurolde, a monk,) +had but to take the poetic material ready at his hand and fashion it +into the epic. Time had dimmed and enlarged the details; the _Song of +Roland_ deals in mass and massive heroes; in this it is like a book from +the Iliad. + +It is not a long poem; there are only about 3,500 lines in all, but the +Old French in which it is written makes it difficult reading, at least +to one not a Frenchman. The briefest citation will show this: + + "Carles li Reis, nostre Emperere magnes, + Sela anz tuz pleins ad estet en Espaigne; + Tresqu'en la mer, cunquist la tere altaigne. + N'i ad castel ki devant lui remagnet." + + ("Charles le Roi, notre grand Empereur, + Sept ans entiers est resté en Espagne; + Jusqu' à la mer, il a conquis la haute terre. + Pas de château qui tienne devant lui." + + --GAUTIER.) + + + +However, it has been transmuted into modern French, and latterly twice +translated into English verse; and the English translations appear to +have preserved remarkably both the power and sweetness of the original. + +The poem centres almost wholly upon this deadly battle in the +Pyrenees,--the last battle of Roland its hero. Charlemagne and the +Franks had invaded Spain, and spent seven years warring with the Moors +and conquering their cities. On their return, as the poem narrates it, +the Moors, instigated by a traitor in Charlemagne's army, plotted an +ambush in this pass of Roncesvalles. The army began its march. The main +body defiled through in safety, and turned westward to await the +rear-guard nearer the coast. But when that division, the flower of the +Frankish forces,--commanded by Roland, his bosom friend Oliver, the +warrior-archbishop Turpin, and the others of the twelve great +paladins,--reached the pass, hostiles began to appear,--in front, above, +behind. More and more they thickened around it,--fierce Basques or +swarthy Moslems, "a hundred thousand heathen men;" and the three leaders +soon realized their betrayal. Oliver exclaimed: + + "'Ganelon[9] wrought this perfidy! + It was he who doomed us to hold the rear.' + 'Hush,' said Roland, 'O Olivier, + No word be said of my step-sire here,'" + +--a touch of magnanimity strange for that brutal age, yet only one of +many in the poem. Roland rather exulted than shrank at the prospect of a +battle, by whatever means brought about. Oliver was the cooler of the +two, and he promptly urged Roland to sound his great horn, which might +be heard for thirty leagues, and so summon Charlemagne to the rescue. He +saw that the danger was real, for the odds were overwhelmingly against +them. But Roland impetuously refused. Thrice, though not in cowardice, +Oliver pleaded with him: + + "'Roland, Roland, yet wind one blast! + Karl will hear ere the gorge be past, + And the Franks return on their path full fast.' + 'I will not sound on mine ivory horn! + It shall never be spoken of me in scorn + That for heathen felons one blast I blew. + I may not dishonor my lineage true. + + * * * * * + + "'Death were better than fame laid low. + Our Emperor loveth a downright blow!'" + +[9] Ganelon was the traitor and Roland's own step-father. The lines +quoted are from the late version by JOHN O'HAGAN, outlined in an article +in the _Edinburgh Review_ to whose appreciative commentary much +indebtedness is acknowledged. + + +The Moors at last swarmed to the attack. They were no cravens, the +Moors; the fight grew rapidly desperate. The Franks performed wonders; +they tingled with the Archbishop's glorious assoilment: + + "In God's high name the host he blest, + And for penance he gave them--to smite their best!" + +The twelve paladins slew twelve renowned Paynims; the mailed phalanx +hewed its way into the infidels, laying them low by thousands. But +thousands more were behind,--the reserve was inexhaustible; the "hundred +thousand" were cut to pieces, when the Moorish king, hastily summoned, +came up with a fresh army of myriads more. It was too much; little by +little the Franks were beaten down, not back, and melted unyielding +away. The peers fell one by one, upon heaps of the Moslem dead; the day +wore on; of the twenty thousand Frankish warriors, but sixty men at +length remained. Too late Roland would wind his horn; it was Oliver's +turn to disdain the now useless expedient. Roland sounded nevertheless: + + "The mountain peaks soared high around; + Thirty leagues was borne the sound. + Karl hath heard it and all his band; + 'Our men have battle,' he said, 'on hand!' + Ganelon rose in front and cried; + 'If another spake, I would say he lied!'" + +Again the desperate sound was faintly heard: + + "'It is Roland's horn,' said the Emperor, + 'And save in battle he had not blown!' + 'Battle,' said Ganelon, 'is there none. + Old you have grown,--all white and hoar! + + * * * * * + + "'He would sound all day for a single hare.'" + +The third time, Roland blew; his nostrils and mouth are filled with +blood, his temples crack with the stress: + + "Said Karl: 'That horn is full of breath!' + Said Naimes: ''Tis Roland who travaileth,'" + +--and the Emperor instantly gave the command to turn and rush to the +rescue. + +But the battle had gone too far. Again and again the little band of +Franks clove its way into the enemy; the latter wavered, retreated, fell +by hundreds, and came back in thousands. Roland's tears fell fast over +his dead companions: + + "'Land of France, thou art soothly fair! + To-day thou liest bereaved and bare. + It was all for me your lives ye gave, + And I was helpless to shield or save.'" + +The last Frankish man-at-arms at length fell; only the three foremost +paladins remained of all the host. But the Saracens dared no longer to +approach them; they hurled their lances from afar. Spent and faint and +bleeding, the three still stood out, but the death-wound of Oliver +finally came; his vision swam, he swayed blindly on his horse. There is +no more touching and beautiful incident in the whole range of song than +this of his death: + + "His eyes from bleeding are dimmed and dark, + Nor mortal near or far can mark; + And when his comrade beside him pressed, + Fiercely he smote on his golden crest; + Down to the nasal the helm he shred,-- + But passed no further nor pierced his head. + Roland marveled at such a blow, + And thus bespake him, soft and low: + 'Hast thou done it, my comrade, wittingly? + Roland, who loves thee so dear, am I; + Thou hast no quarrel with me to seek?' + Oliver answered: 'I hear thee speak, + But I see thee not. God seeth thee. + Have I struck thee, brother? Forgive it me.' + 'I am not hurt, O Olivier, + And in sight of God I forgive thee here.' + Then each to each his head hath laid, + And in love like this was their parting made." + +And now but Roland and the Archbishop were left,--the former on foot, +his charger dead. Wounded and gasping, they rushed forward upon the +enemy; the sword-arm of the Moorish king was cut from his side, his son +fell dead before him. The Moors quailed; their lances fell in storms +upon the heroes. Suddenly a long, far sound was heard; it was of the +trumpets of Charlemagne's returning army rushing to the rescue but still +miles and hours away. The Saracens turned at the very sound; a final +lance-shower, and they fled; the two held the pass of Roncesvalles, +unconquered,--but dying. + +For it was too late. + +The Archbishop had sunk to the ground, gasping,--lifeless. Roland, +stricken himself, placed his companion gently on the grass: + + "He took the fair white hands outspread, + Crossed and clasped them upon his breast." + +Then with his remaining strength, he sought one by one for the corpses +of the other ten paladins; one by one he brought them to the feet of the +dead prelate and laid them before the august body,--Oliver's corpse last +and dearest of all. There he might leave them, the solemn assembly of +the peers. It was his last task. His wound too was mortal; his time had +come to join them. + +"In vigor and pathos," justly observes the review before mentioned, +"this poem rises to the end. There are few things in poetry more simply +grand than the death of Roland. He moves feebly back to the adjoining +limit-line of Spain,--the land which his well-loved master has +conquered,--and a bow-shot beyond it, and then drops to the ground:" + + "That death was on him he knew full well; + Down from his head to his heart it fell. + On the grass beneath a pine tree's shade, + With face to earth, his form he laid; + Beneath him placed he his horn and sword, + And turned his face to the heathen horde + Thus hath he done the sooth to show + That Karl and his warriors all may know + That the gentle Count a conqueror died. + '_Mea culpa_,' full oft he cried, + And for all his sins, unto God above + In sign of penance he raised his glove. + + * * * * * + + "He did his right-hand glove uplift; + Saint Gabriel took from his hand the gift. + --Then drooped his head upon his breast, + And with clasped hands he went to rest." + +There is indeed little in epic poetry to surpass the high simplicity of +this loving portrayal of a hero's death. + +It is the climax of the poem. The Emperor's army burst upon the scene, +frantic with anxiety; but no eye was open to give them greeting. Roland +was dead with his slaughtered rear-guard, and lying with his face to the +foe. For three days the sun stayed its motion, at Charlemagne's frenzied +petition, and the Moors were chased and cut to pieces, Saragossa +taken,--a full and furious vengeance exacted. The whole army mourned for +their companions; holy rites attended their stately burial; Ganelon was +tried, condemned, torn to pieces by wild horses. But the joy of the +Franks, their hero, their idol, was gone forever from them; retribution, +even the bitterest, could count for little against the passing of that +peerless spirit. + +A pathetic meeting was afterward the old Emperor's with Alva, the +affianced of Roland: + + "'Where is my Roland, sire,' she cried, + 'Who vowed to take me for his bride?'" + +Brokenly at length he told her of the news. A moment she gazed at him +unseeing: + + "'God and his angels forbid, that I + Should live on earth if Roland die!' + Pale grew her cheek,--she sank amain + Down at the feet of Charlemagne." + +So let us leave this tender poem, tender unwontedly among its times; an +epic which sincerely merits a vogue more near to its value. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE CITY OF THE ARROW-PIERCED SAINT; + + +We glide smoothly away from St. Jean de Luz and its legends, by the +unlegendary railroad. The track curves southward, with frequent views of +the coast, and it will be but a few minutes before we shall be in Spain. +We instinctively feel for the reassuring rustle of our passports, duly +_viséd_ at Bordeaux. The low mountain that overhangs Fuenterrabia, one +of the nearest Spanish towns, comes closer, and soon the train whistles +shrilly into the long station at Hendaye, the last French village, in +great repute for its delicious cordial. It is on the edge of the +Bidassoa, a placid, shallow river which here lazily acts as the +international boundary. Irun, the first town of the peninsula, is across +the bridge, and after a short delay the train crosses,--and we instantly +feel a hundred miles nearer to the Escorial, a hundred years nearer to +Philip and the _auto-da-fé_. + +The change of nationality at these frontier towns is always distinct and +surprising, and more so than elsewhere here in Irun. Within three +minutes we have in every sense passed from France into Spain. Language +not only, but the type of face and dress, have altered in a flash. We +are not conscious, however, of any increased governmental surveillance; +passports are not asked for at all, and the customs-official gives but a +light inspection to trunk and satchels. + +But he is in considerable perplexity over the camera. This he is +scrutinizing very suspiciously. We assume that a true Greek compound +should pass current everywhere, if given a proper local termination, and +so confidently hazard, "_photo-grafia_." + +[Illustration] + +I still believe that the word was skilfully and philologically evolved, +but it seems to fail of its effect. We repeat it, with appropriate +gestures; the official looks puzzled but not enlightened. He inspects +the lens, the bellows, the slides. We fear for the negatives and the +unexposed plates. Prompt action is needed, for already his hand is +approaching them; and boldly withdrawing the closed plate-holders from +the camera we defiantly pocket them before his eyes. + +A short, clicking sound caused by the act of withdrawal gives the +inspector an idea. He looks up hopefully. + +"_Telegrafo_?" he asks. + +We nod with vigor and even more hopefully, and are inspired to add: + +"_Si, señor, telegrafo! Americano; caramba!_" + +This has the desired effect. The mystery is explained. The government's +hand is stayed, its doubt vanishes; the precious scroll of chalk is +made, and the plates are saved to darkness and to good works. + +It is necessary to change cars at Irun. Trains cannot possibly go +through, owing to a difference in gauge,--a difference purposely devised +by moody Spain, in order to impede hostile invasion. There is also a +wait of an hour. The Spaniard does not assent to the equation between +time and money. The lunch at the buffet in the station is ceremonious +and calm; the successive courses are gravely served at its naperied +tables with the same deliberation, the same care and attention to +detail, as at a hotel. It is but a short journey to San Sebastian, and +in half an hour after leaving Irun we are at our destination. + + +II. + +San Sebastian is both a city unto itself, and a summer resort unto +others. As to the latter, it is among the most popular watering-places +in Spain, and is styled "the Brighton of Madrid." As to the former, it +is a home for twenty thousand human beings of its own; it earns a +sufficing competence, chiefly in exchanges with its surrounding +province; and it has a monopoly of centralization over a wide region, +for no other important Spanish city lies nearer than Pampeluna or +Burgos. Burgos is not actually so very remote,--only a short hundred and +fifty miles beyond; and we had spoken of a visit to its renowned +cathedral. But we had not reckoned with Spanish railway speed; it was +found that the time required solely to go and come would be nearly +fifteen hours! Unvisited, we saw, must remain the cathedral within which +the hot-headed Protestant missionary blew out the sacred light that had +burned for three hundred years. Owing to the Hispanian misconception of +horological values, Burgos is practically, if not actually, exceedingly +remote from San Sebastian. + +The latter, however, is so fortunately close to the edge of France that +those who come as near as Biarritz or Pau should assuredly make this +brief dip over the border. + +San Sebastian is strictly new; its predecessors have been burned five +times, one upon the other, the last being brought to ashes by the +soldiers of Wellington; and it is liable to be burned again whenever +France and Spain begin to fight again across it. It is an excellent +model for that worthy fowl, the phoenix, for it has risen with +undismayed cheerfulness from each holocaust. The present representative +is in three segments. The city itself is composed of two, and the +citadel makes a fairly important third. From a military point of view, +the citadel was once counted first, and the city itself made an +unimportant third,--with no second. But modern gunnery has changed that +estimate. + +Of the two parts of the city proper, one is national, the other +international; they do not unite, but adjoin, welded by a central +promenade, the _Alameda_. Each is distinct, and has little to do with +the life of the other. The native population centres wholly in the west +half; we drift first over to this, in our afternoon walk, and scan its +appearance and people with inquisitive though decorous interest. This +section, comprising much of what was the old town, has evidently aimed +to reproduce it; it has been rebuilt with persistent regard to the +former municipal type, and shows to-day a curious combination of bright, +new and well constructed tenements, built on a dark, old and ill +instructed plan. The streets are left narrow,--very narrow. The black +doorways and halls, as we peer in, in passing, are cramped and +forbidding; the projecting balconies approach each other overhead, and +the oblong yellow buildings themselves rise to overshadowing height. +Like soldiers on dress parade they stand, relentlessly regular and +uniform, block after block, and their walled lanes, straight and similar +and uncharacteristic, cross and weave themselves into a stiff, +right-angled check, exasperating and profitless, unrelieved by a hint at +variation of outline, by a picturesque eave or gable, or a single +artistic "bit;" + +The cathedral does indeed possess some interest, particularly its carved +front of light-colored stone; and here and there about it are a few old +houses, unsutteed relicts, that have not bowed to the new régime. The +shops in this part of the town are less individual than one would +expect, though we find them not devoid of a certain variety. The +specialty of the place is the enameling of gold and silver upon iron. +Jewelry and small articles are made of this ware in elaborate designs +and with great daintiness and skill. Outside of this, San Sebastian does +not seem to have invented any new wants for humanity, and its shops do +not seek to supply any but the old. + +The other half of the town I have called international. This is the +section of the hotels, of wide streets and flagged walks, of massy +squares of business buildings, of villas and a park and the bathing +circle. The sea swings around the projecting cape of the citadel into a +deeply notched bay, small and still, and on its edge which meets the +town you find pavilions and beach-chairs and their usual accompaniment +of idling humanity. The Casino stands boldly up, a little to the right, +and in front of it, on the Alameda, the band will play in the coming +summer evenings for all the élite of Madrid. + +The fine Hôtel de Londres is large and well kept, and, like all Spanish +hotels, charges on the good American plan of so much per day. One +gratefully appreciates this, after juggling every few days with +disheartening lists of accumulated coffees and eggs and dinners and +rooms and mineral waters and service and _bougies_, and the others. The +infinitude of microscopic book-keeping made necessary by the Continental +system is a thought to shudder at. For the rest, the hotel is only +unsatisfying because it seems in nowise distinctively Spanish. We almost +wish we had chosen a certain other hostelry equally well spoken of, +which, instead of Hotel, had alluringly styled itself a _Fonda_. +Probably we might have found as little there as here that was pure +Castilian. Save in language and location, San Sebastian is not of Spain, +Spanish. And as with Biarritz, it is not to be sought for its +reminiscences of old age. It is trim and "kempt" and modern, and lives +strictly in the present. We soon come to realize this, cease longing for +the unattainable, and enjoy the place for what it is. Perhaps we shall +recoup the vanished _patina_ to-morrow, when we visit an older and far +different town,--Fuenterrabia. + + +III. + +The Sebastian season is coëxtensive with the summer season at Biarritz; +perhaps rather tardier in its beginnings. Consequently we are still +somewhat in advance of the tide. This is distinctly a disadvantage, as +it was in part at Biarritz. There are places whose very reason for +existence is society. Only in this costume are they rightly themselves; +only in full dress, so to say, should they be called upon. In a true +"sentimental journey," art and nature and history should take but equal +turn with the life of the present. The ideal traveler courts solitude in +a ruin and society in a resort. The spirit of each is differently +divined. + +And San Sebastian out of season is a casket without its +jewels,--modern-made casket at that, costly but uncharacteristic, and +with nothing of an heirloom's charm; a casket neither encased in time's +antique leather nor encrusted with true Spanish enamel. + +However, we are not wholly out of the season. We are in the van of it, +but day breaks before the sun rises. San Sebastian is partially awake +already and rubbing its eyes. The season's contingent is arriving in +daily portions. The Queen Regent is coming soon, to spend the summer; +this draws an additional number in advance, thus influenced to summer +here themselves. The beach is already mildly popular, and the cabmen +mildly independent. We drive out from the town around the bend of the +little bay, and see opening villas and other marks of awakening life. +But we sigh for music on the quiet plaza; hope in vain for a concert or +ball in the Casino; and, above all, mourn and refuse to be comforted, +for there is no bull-fight. After Wellington, whose way to Waterloo left +here its fiery track, we exclaim: "O for August or Madrid!" In Madrid, +they are holding bull-fights even now in June; in August, they will be +holding them here. + + +IV. + +As to the citadel, sight-seers are not solicitously catered to by the +authorities. I stroll up there in the afternoon. The citadel hill is +known as the Monte Orgullo. The spirals of the road lead out to and +around the edge of the promontory to its ocean side, and curve steadily +upward during a rise of four hundred feet. There are pleasant views of +the sea,--the Spanish main in literal fact,--and of the hills across the +little notch of water that turns in at the left toward the town. I near +the summit, pass under an untended gateway, work upward still by a +narrow lane shut in with high stone walls, and finally reach the foot of +a long flight of stone steps and see the citadel looming above. It is +Spain, and my passport is at the hotel. They are said to be very +suspicious in Spain; to act first and investigate afterward. My whole +vocabulary has already been employed at the custom-house, and consists +of "_Americano_," "_caramba_," and "_Si, Señor_." It won the day at +Irun. Will it win the day here? + +Boldly I begin ascending the steps. They are many and wide, confined by +the same high walls, and commanded from above by the battlements of the +fort. There is commotion on the parapet at the unmuffled sound of the +foreigner's foot-fall, and armed figures at once appear at the edge. + +I pause half-way, and look expectantly upward. + +"_Caramba_?" I inquire. + +A soldier shakes, his head. + +"_Americano_," I insinuate, sweetly. + +Another shake, more decided. + +I grieve for a somewhat fuller technical familiarity with the Spanish +military idiom. Undismayed, however, I resort to the sign language, and +make gestures to signify that I want to ascend. + +Either the proposal is rejected or it is not comprehended, and I act it +out again, with a cajoling "_Si, Señor_." Then, to make the idea +clearer, I move on up the steps. + +But now there is a vigorous negative. More armed figures, appear at the +parapet, and, while I pause again, one of them explains his position in +a few well-chosen and emphatic phrases, and illustrates his views by a +pointed gesture toward his gun. The illustration at least is definite +and unmistakable. + +International complications are never to be recklessly brought on. But +shall the assailing traveler quail before a gesture? My store of Spanish +passwords is exhausted, but there is one solvent yet remaining,--the +universal countersign. With undiminished cheerfulness, I select from my +pocket a stamped silver disk of well-known design, hold it significantly +a moment in full view, and then confidently proceed up the staircase. + +The armed figures vanish from view. There is a foreboding silence as I +near the heavy entrance-way at the top. But before I can pound for +admittance, the great door swings deferentially open, a guard within +salutes still more deferentially, I advance, friend, and proffer the +countersign,--and the Monte Orgullo is won! + +The view from this hill of Mars well merits the climb and any attendant +risk to the home State Department. The air is warm and still. In front, +the sea stretches to the horizon, smooth as the fair Glimmerglass loved +by Deerslayer. To the right flows a clear, quiet river, the Urumea, to +meet it,--a river on whose nearer bank below us lies buried many a brave +English soldier, their graves marked by white headstones; and from the +farther shore of which once flew leaden rain and iron hail from +conquering English guns. Behind us lies the city, asleep in the warm +afternoon haze, and in the distance are the forms of purplish Pyrenees +hills; while farther around opens the bright little bay,--the _Concha_ +or Shell, happily so called,--with villas fringing it's curve, and an +islet-pearl in its centre. A wistful touch of peace and sunshine is over +all the scene, as one views it, in the irony of fact, from this +storm-centre of war. + +There are barracks within the walls, and monster guns and other usual +martial furnishings, and the fortifications themselves have, to some +extent, been put in touch with modern requirements. The garrison's life +is not hard, and they live contentedly through drill and evolution, +ration and routine, and stroll down to the Alameda and Casino in hours +of leave. But theirs is a post of honor and danger, nevertheless. San +Sebastian lies foremost in the route of possible invasion. It could not +be ignored nor left untaken. And the very isolation of this fortress, +once its strength, is now its weakness. It might serve to delay an +onrushing army for a saving moment,--a dog thrown out to check the +wolves. It could accomplish little more against the terrific artillery +of to-day; and,--as with the dog,--the interval would prove a period of +marked unrest to the fated garrison. + +However, war is now at last, if never hitherto, extinct for all time, so +trusts the world at peace. And barrack-life is dreamy and easy, and the +stroll down to the Alameda very pleasant, these fair days of summer. + +But the white headstones on the river slope come out into view again, +for a time, as I wander back down the spiral road toward the town and +think on these things; a cloud drifts across the sun and dims their +brightness; then the light pours down as before. + + +V. + +Wellington fought his way over this region in 1813, and took San +Sebastian,--took it by storm and thunder-storm,--took it in fire and +hail, at fearful cost, and over the dead bodies of a quarter of his +stormers. The place blocked his northward way to meet the Man of +Destiny. Destiny decreed its fall. For seven weeks, the siege, +octopus-like, wound its long tentacles about its victim, sucking away +the life. On the last day of summer, the assault was let loose. The +attack seemed irresistible; the defence impregnable. All that furious +morning, column after column of British troops swarmed up the river +bank, pressed on into the breaches, or hurled themselves to the top of +the walls. Column after column melted back, under the torrent of fire +from the parapet and from the batteries in the citadel. "In vain," says +Napier,[10] "the following multitude covered the ascent, seeking an +entrance at every part; to advance was impossible, and the mass of +assailants, slowly sinking downwards, remained stubborn and immovable on +the lower part of the breach ... + +[10] _Peninsular War_. + + +"The volunteers, who had been with difficulty restrained in the +trenches, 'calling out to know why they had been brought there if they +were not to lead the assault,' being now let loose, went like a +whirlwind to the breaches, and again the crowded masses swarmed up the +face of the ruins, but reaching the crest line they came down like a +falling wall; crowd after crowd were seen to mount, to totter and to +sink, the deadly French fire was unabated, the smoke floated away, and +the crest of the breach bore no living man." + +The British artillery, from a near elevation, now reinforced the attack +with a raking fire, and new regiments plunged across the stream and +rushed to join the attack. "The fighting now became fierce and obstinate +again at all the breaches, but the French musketry still rolled with +deadly effect, the heaps of slain increased, and once more the great +mass of stormers sank to the foot of the ruins, unable to win; the +living sheltered themselves as they could, but the dead and wounded lay +so thickly that hardly could it be judged whether the hurt or unhurt +were most numerous. + +"It was now evident that the assault must fail unless some accident +intervened, for the tide was rising, the reserves all engaged, and no +greater effort could be expected from men whose courage had been already +pushed to the verge of madness. In this crisis, fortune interfered. A +number of powder-barrels, live shells, and combustible materials which +the French had accumulated behind the traverses for their defence, +caught fire, a bright, consuming flame wrapped the whole of the high +curtain, a succession of loud explosions was heard, hundreds of the +French grenadiers were destroyed, the rest were thrown into confusion, +and while the ramparts were still involved with suffocating eddies of +smoke, the British soldiers broke in at the first traverse. The +defenders, bewildered by this terrible disaster, yielded for a moment, +yet soon rallied, and a close, desperate struggle took place along the +summit of the high curtain; but the fury of the stormers, whose numbers +increased every moment, could not be stemmed. The French colors on the +cavalier were torn away, by Lieutenant Gethin of the eleventh regiment. +The hornwork and the land front below the curtain, and the loopholed +wall behind the great breach, were all abandoned; the light-division +soldiers, who had already established themselves in the ruins on the +French left, immediately penetrated to the streets; and at the same +moment the Portuguese at the small breach, mixed with the British who +had wandered to that point seeking for an entrance, burst in on their +side. + +"Five hours the dreadful battle had lasted at the walls, and now the +storm of war went pouring into the town. The undaunted governor still +disputed the victory for a short time with the aid of his barricades, +but several hundreds of his men being cut off and taken in the hornwork, +his garrison was so reduced that even to effect a retreat behind the +line of defences which separated the town from the Monte Orgullo was +difficult; the commanders of battalions were embarrassed for want of +orders, and a thunder-storm, which came down from the mountains with +unbounded fury immediately after the place was carried, added to the +confusion of the fight. + +"Many officers exerted themselves to preserve order, many men were well +conducted; but the rapine and violence commenced by villains soon +spread, the camp-followers crowded into the place, and the disorder +continued until the flames, following the steps of the plunderer, put an +end to his ferocity by destroying the whole town." + + * * * * * + +It is beyond imagination, this sunny June afternoon, that the shining +city about us has gasped in smoke and ruins, has been pierced with +arrows unto death as was its patron saint of old; that this contentful +droning of the shore and the street deepened once to the roar of war and +rose to the shriek of suffering. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +AN OLD SPANISH MINIATURE. + + "When Charlemain with all his peerage fell, + By Fontarabia." + + --MILTON. + + +The next day an indolent morning train draws us back to the frontier. +The landscape is rather shadeless; "a Spaniard hates a tree." It should +be but a twenty-minute ride, and so, it being short at the longest, we +do not have time to grudge the additional twenty consumed in +"indolencing." The time-table allowed for that, and so prepared us. It +is when larger times are involved,--when a four-hour ride is inflated to +eight, and an eight-hour trip to fifteen, as in going to Burgos,--that +the corporate deliberateness of the Spanish railways ceases to be a +curiosity, and becomes a crime. + +We are soon in Irun once more, and after change of cars, cross to +Hendaye, and baggage is inspected for France. The train goes on its way +north, but we stay in Hendaye, to lunch, and to make our projected +excursion to Fuenterrabia. + +In terms of logic, San Sebastian the modern has in Fuenterrabia the +ancient its full "contradictory." The one, the resort, is affirmative +and universal; the other, the old, strange town, is negative and +individual. The one has told us little of old Spain; we turn hopefully +to the other. + +Fuenterrabia lies near the mouth of the Bidassoa, on the Spanish side of +the stream, below Irun. It is but two miles, from Irun, and readily +reached from that place by carriage; from Hendaye, on the French side, +one reaches it by row-boat in about the same time, with the additional +zest and boast of recrossing the river and of entering and leaving Spain +once more. + + +II. + +Luncheon past, we walk up the long, easy incline that leads from Hendaye +station into its town; and with a turn to the left find our way through +its streets down again to the river bank. Here are boats and boatmen, +and we have to run the customary gauntlet of competition, as vociferous +at Hendaye as at Killarney or the Crossmon. We elect two of the +competitors as allies, and the rest become our sworn enemies forthwith. + +The tide is low, the water still and shallow; and we are sculled +smoothly out into the stream, restful in the soft sunshine, the full +blue of the afternoon sky. The voices of our hundred enemies recede; the +sounds from the town yield to the dripping oars; soon the stream +stretches its silent width about us. Close-grouped on the opposite shore +we see the dark walls of Fuenterrabia, domineered by the castle. The +railway whistle begins to seem a memory of another existence, the bustle +of travel a thing remote. The quiet of the river, unlike Lethe, turns us +to the past, and clouds the present in a dreamy haze. + +"In that sunny corner where the waves of the Bay of Biscay wash over a +sandy barrier and mingle with the waters of the Bidassoa stream,"--thus +runs the legend so charmingly recounted in _The Sun-Maid_,--"they tell +the ancient story that a favored mortal won from the gods permission to +ask three blessings for Spain. + +"He asked that her daughters might be beautiful, that her sons might be +brave, and that her government might be good. + +"The first two requests were granted,--the beauty of a Spanish woman is +of world-wide renown; and if the men are rash, passionate, and +revengeful, at least they are brave; but the last request was refused. + +"'Impossible!' was the answer; 'impossible! Already she is an earthly +paradise, and were this last blessing hers, the very gods themselves +would desert Elysium and come down to dwell in Spain.'" + +Of this we think, winding among the shallows, as the Spanish bank comes +nearer, and the boat at last grounds lightly on its soil. Before us is +the old town we are seeking,--a type perhaps of the nation itself, in +its courtly unthrift, its proud misgovernance. + + +III. + +There is a little custom-house on the bank, but our _impedimenta_ are +safe in Hendaye. I think our passports are there as-well, so bold does +one grow upon familiarity. + +We have scarcely traversed a hundred yards before we come upon the +middle centuries. There will be no caviling at the satisfying antiquity +of Fuenterrabia. We have passed in between the lichened walls which +still guard the city, and a few steps bring us into the town and to the +foot of the main street. We pause to look, and the sight is certainly +striking. Beyond a doubt Fuenterrabia is old. It has a true Spanish +tint, and one dyed in the wool; one might probably travel far in Spain +before meeting a truer. This street seems utterly unmodified by modern +formulæ. Wavering and narrow and sombre, it stretches upward on a +gradual incline until it meets the cathedral stepping out from the line +of the old houses and closing the vista. Even in the short perspective, +the huge, blackened eaves of the opposite roofs seem almost to meet. +Balconies, associated with moonlight and mandolins, serenades and +señoritas, jut out from every window; dark bosses of escutcheons mark +the fronts; and below, along the edging of sidewalk, are the dim little +shops, curtained by yellow canvas, intensely and delightfully local, and +wholly unknowing of outside demand or competition. One of these places +does indeed cater to visitors with a humble supply of photographs and of +clicking sets of varnished wooden castanets paired by colored worsteds; +but the others of the store-keepers and the inhabitants in the streets +are clearly unhardened to foreigners, and regard us solely with a deep +and artless curiosity,--tempered, I hope, by admiration. As the town has +been, so it is. It is an epitome of Spain and her past. + + +IV. + +At the head of the street we enter the cool cathedral, and find, as +always, wealth created by poverty. In places such as these one realizes +the hold of the Romish system on mediæval Europe. One realizes its power +also. No matter what the size of a town, it boasts its costly church; +oftener, as here, its cathedral. Villages, houses, people, may be poor, +their church stands rich; they may be unlearned in art and in culture, +their church stands a model of both. There was their shrine, their +finality,--in religion not merely, but in art and wisdom and authority. + + +At least, the Catholic system held its followers firmly in leash. +Condemn its errors and excesses, yet, these apart, it was marvelously +adapted to its mission. As an engine of unification it was almost +omnipotent. Through the ups and downs of restless migrations and +invasions,--of feudalisms and governments and the soberer commercial +spirit,--it has kept its hold unbroken upon the mass of European +humanity. Its priests and popes might sink out of respect; the Church +did not sink. In the fiercest civil feuds, its abbeys were held +inviolate. To the most brutal, the Church had an odor of sanctity. Its +threats terrified; its mandates were obeyed; it was the one persistent, +binding principle; it held men in check from a relapse into tribalism. + +And its hold is firm to-day. Go into a Romish church, you shall find +worshipers at every hour. Worn housewives, seamed and aged market-women, +a chance workingman, an awed and tiptoeing child,--they are there in +their silence. They kneel, they pray, their eyes are fixed on the altar. +Formalism or not, a sincerity underlies it,--a belief and obedience +absorbed from centuries of environment; implicit and unquestioning, and +making for good. + + +V. + +Beyond the cathedral is the broad square or plaza, and the half-alive +streets wandering from this are even more Fuenterrabian than the one +just past, for they are less well-to-do. The poorer houses may reveal +the traits and traditions of a town far more faithfully than the richer. +The latter can draw their models from a wider field. The former copy +only the local and long-followed pattern. + +Here at our right stands the castle. It is stern in its decrepitude; its +very aspect is historic. It was built by a king of Navarre, Sancho +Abarca, known as the Strong, so long ago as the tenth century; the +façade facing the square is somewhat later, and the other façade was +rebuilt by Charles V. We pass through the entrance-way and across a +murky, earthen-floored atrium, and stand in silence in the roofless +central hall. + +It is at this point that our nascent impressions are brusquely shocked. +Fuenterrabia is not all steeped in dreams of the past. It has waked for +once into the business present as well. Its proud reserve has been +broken. There is a rift in the lute. Here by the mossy courtyard, +enclosed by historic walls and the spirit of an unworldly past, we are +met by a sign-board, with the following English inscription: + +[Illustration: For Sale] + +FOR SALE! +THIS ROYAL PALACE +AND CASTLE OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES V. +appli for informations +to +PRIMO FERNANDEZ, FUENTERRABIA. + +A preceding traveler saw this sign when here, and quotes it in part in a +recent book.[11] It still hangs, as we see it now, two years after his +visit, still pathetically but vainly invoking the spirit of a worldly +present. + +[11] FIELD: _Old Spain and New Spain._ + + +For the lover of day dreams, given to designing his _châteaux en +Espagne_, I seriously recommend this purchase in Fuenterrabia. The +castillo is a real one and the most accessible in Spain, and all its +surroundings are gratefully in harmony. It is presumably a bargain, and +one might either hold it for a rise, or turn grandee and live in it. + + + +Within the court, the daylight comes in over the dismantled walls. The +ivy green climbs along the grey stones. We trace the old hearth and the +outline of the stone staircase scarred upon the wall. We conjure up the +rest of the structure, but the Northern Wizard is not with us here, as +at Kenilworth, to repeople it with life and merrymaking, and it strains +the imagination to depart far from the dull, dead present of +Fuenterrabia. Perchance of old there came hither knights and ladies, +pricking o'er the plaine, perchance here was dancing and wassail. We +close our eyes and would fain image the scene. We banish the ruined +walls, the sunlight creeping among the ivy. We see the sheen of cloth of +gold and the gleam of greaves and breastplates. We catch the tale of +battle, the passing of the loving-cup, the stately treading of slow +Spanish measures. We hear,--we hear,--what is it that we hear?--the +melodious sound of woman's soft voice, gently whispering: "Five sous +each for the party, monsieur." + +And as we awake and pay and depart, we turn and see again the +disillusionizing legend: + +[Illustration: For Sale] + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +AN ERA IN TWILIGHT. + + "_Pour faire comprendre le caractère d'un peuple, je conterais + trente anecdotes et je supprimerais toutes les théories + philosophiques sur le sujet_," + + --STENDHAL. + + +Returning to Hendaye, a train takes us again to Bayonne, connecting +there for Orthez and Pau. The ride to Bayonne needs an hour or less, and +from thence to Orthez calls for two. It is not many decades since much +of this journey had to be made by the diligence. Railways and highways +have pushed rapidly toward the Pyrenees. When in the approaching +fortnight we shall come to traverse the Route Thermale, the great +carriage-way along the chain, we shall see modern road-making in its +perfection; and the rail will keep anxious watch, over the road, running +parallel along the distant plain and reaching helpful arms up the +valleys to uphold it. + +Toward Pau especially, the railroads converge. That city, a social +capital for centuries, is a social capital still, and its winter influx +of invalids and pleasure-seekers stimulates every facility of approach. +Then, too, it lies on the way crossing southern France from the Bidassoa +to the Rhone, and no line linking these rivers could omit from its chain +the Gave[12] de Pau. + +[12] _Gave_ is the generic name among the Pyrenees for a mountain stream +or torrent. + + + +From Bayonne, the train at first traverses an edge of a singular region. +It is a part of the _Landes_. This great savanna, which flattens the +entire space from Bordeaux to Bayonne, was crossed in coming southward +from Bordeaux, and now as we strike eastward and inland we but briefly +skirt its southerly portion. A sandy, marshy waste, infertile, +unhealthful and poor, it lies in utter contrast with the fields and +slopes of neighboring provinces. It is anomalous, incongruous,-- + + "A bare strand + Of hillocks heaped with ever-shifting sand, + Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds, + Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds." + +Its inhabitants are meagre and stunted; it scants them both in food and +drink. Its miserliness is deep-set: artesian wells sunk a thousand feet +through its dull grey sands bring up only a brackish yellow water; a +precarious rye and barley grow grudgingly. + +The low stretches of furze and heath and fern are fringed only by +mournful horizons of pines or broken by long files of gashed and wounded +firs. This extensive tree-growth, however, which is comparatively +recent, has at least lessened one terror of the Landes: sand-storms and +snow-storms, which once swept across the wastes, have been shorn of +their strength. Honor for this is due almost alone to one man, a M. +Brémontier. Before his time, forest-making had here been deemed +impossible; pine seeds planted in the lax hold of these sands had +hitherto been unable even to take root, against the unbroken sweep of +the winds. M. Brémontier, after many experiments, conceived the idea of +planting with the pine seeds the seeds of the common broom, whose hardy +tuft should protect the tiny sapling until it could stand by itself. +The result surpassed hope; pine forests, protecting in their turn, have +sprung up and endured throughout the Landes; they have broken forever +the power of the wind-storms; and their pitch and timber are even a +source of some riches to the Department. + +Still it remains a region unsmiling and melancholy. A monochrome of +sand, darkened everywhere by long blotches of sickly undergrowth or the +dull reach of the pines; here and there are cork-trees and alders. The +sheen of some slow lagoon is caught in the distance. There is a charm in +the very charmlessness of the scene, as in some sombre-toned etching. + +One striking specialty this district has, however; and from the train +windows we watch closely for a specimen. This is the shepherd on stilts, +the _Xicanque_, immortalized by Rosa Bonheur and mentioned by many +travelers. He is peculiar to this region; perched on these wooden +supports, at a perilous height above the ground, he stalks gravely over +the landscape, enabled to behold a horizon of triple range and to +outstride the fleetest of his vagrant flock. When so inclined, he is +quite able, it is said, to skillfully execute a _pas seul_ or even a +jig,--with every appropriate flourish of his timber limbs and with +surprising grace and _abandon_. His stilts are strapped to the thigh, +not the knee, for greater freedom, and he mounts from his cabin-roof in +the early morning and lives in the air throughout the day. A third stilt +forms a seat, and makes of his silhouette a ludicrous and majestic +tripod. This genius's chief amusement is startlingly domestic: it is +knitting stockings; and engaged in this peaceful art he sits with +dignity and whiles away the hours. How he manoeuvres when he +accidentally drops a needle, I have not been able to learn. + +A dignitary of Bordeaux arranged a fête and procession in these Landes +on one occasion; triumphal arches were erected, hung with flowers and +garlands; and the feature of the parade was a sedate platoon of these +heron-like shepherds engaged for the occasion, dressed in skins, decked +with white hoods and mantles, preceded by a band of music, and stalking +by fours imposingly down the line of march. + + +II. + +We are nearing the Pyrenees now, and entering the ancient and famous +province of Béarn, once a noted centre of mediæval chivalry. Beam did +not become part of France until almost modern times.[13] For seven +hundred years preceding, its successive rulers held their brilliant +court unfettered and unpledged. "Ours," declared its barons and prelates +in assembly, "is a free country, which owes neither homage nor servitude +to any one." The life of the province was its own, separated entirely +from that of the kingdom. It had its own succession, its own wars and +feuds, its own love of country. It has a national history in miniature. +"If I have excused myself from bearing arms upon either side," said one +of its rulers, replying to the royal remonstrances, "I have, as I think, +good reasons for it: the wars between England and France no way concern +me, for I hold my country of Béarn from God, my sword and by +inheritance. I have not therefore any cause to enter into the service or +incur the hatred of either of these kings." + +[13] In 1620. + + +There is a pleasant old legend which touches the true note of Béarn. +Toward the year 1200, three of its rulers, in turn misgoverning, were in +turn deposed by the barons. The heirs next in line were the infant +twins of one William de Moncade. "It was agreed," as Miss Costello +relates it; "that one of these should fill the vacant seat of +sovereignty of Béarn, and two of the _prudhommes_ were deputed to visit +their father with the proposition. On their arrival at his castle, the +sages found the children asleep, and observed with attention their +infant demeanor. Both were beautiful, strong and healthy; and it was a +difficult matter to make an election between two such attractive and +innocent creatures. They were extremely alike, and neither could be +pronounced superior to the other; the _prudhommes_ were strangely +puzzled, for they had been so often deceived that they felt it to be +most important that they should not err this time. As they hung in +admiration over the sleeping babes, one of them remarked a circumstance +that at once decided their preference and put an end to their +vacillation: one of the little heroes held his hand tightly closed; the +tiny, mottled palm of the other was wide open as it lay upon his snowy +breast. 'He will be a liberal and bold knight,' said one of the +Béarnais, 'and will best suit us as a head.' This infant was accordingly +chosen, given up by his parents to the wise men, and carried off in +triumph to be educated among his future subjects. The event proved their +sagacity, and the object of their choice lived to give them good laws +and prosperity." + + +III. + +The past of Béarn, like an ellipse, curves around two foci. One is the +town of Orthez,[14] the other, the later city of Pau. The hero, the +central figure, of one is Gaston Phoebus, Count of Foix; that of the +other, Henry of Navarre. + +[14] Anciently written Ortayse, afterward Orthès. + + +These are the two great names of Béarn. Each lights up a distinctive +epoch,--Gaston, the fourteenth century, Henry, the sixteenth. + + * * * * * + +In two hours after leaving Bayonne, the train has come to Orthez. There +is little splendor in the old town as one views it to-day; yet in +Gaston's time it was the capital of Béarn, successor of the yet older +Morlaäs, and a centre for knights and squires and men-at-arms, a magnet +for pilgrims and noble visitors from other countries, attracted by its +fame. There were jousts, tourneys, hunts, banquets. The now broken walls +of the old Castle of Moncade on the hill have sheltered more glittering +merrymakings than those of Kenilworth or Fuenterrabia. But decay never +surrenders an advantage once gained; the castle is dying now; dull +modern commonplace has enfolded the once bright town below; and this +Orthez is to-day at best but a lounging-place for the pessimist. We +shall love better Pau, its rival and successor, still buoyant and +prospering, rising not falling. "Good men study and wise men describe," +avers Ruskin, in a more than half-truth, "only the growth and standing +of things,--not their decay. Dissolution and putrescence are alike +common and unclean ... in State or organism." + +For all that, Orthez and its traditions are too significant to hasten +by. Nowhere is the picture of mediæval life more strongly illuminated; +in no spot shall we more fitly pause to summon back the inner past of +the Pyrenees we are approaching. But we would linger over it only as it +was in its best days, and leave to others the drearier story of its +decadence. + +It is Froissart, the old historian and traveler, genial, story-loving +Sir John, who tells us most about Orthez and Gaston. Orthez, as the +capital of Béarn, was in his time, at its meridian, (it was afterward +supplanted by Pau,) and Gaston Phoebus, known as the Count de Foix, was +lord both of Beam and of the neighboring county of Foix. It was +precisely five hundred years ago, come next St. Catherine's Day, that +the old chronicler alighted from his horse here in Orthez. He was come +on a visit to the count, well introduced, and seeking further material +for his easy-going history of the times; knowing that foreign knights +assembled in Orthez from all countries, and that there were few spots +more alive to the sound of the world's doings or better informed in the +varying gossip of wars and court-craft. + +Froissart liked to write, "and it was very tiresome," he remarks, "to me +to be idle, for I well know that when the time shall come when I shall +be dead and rotten, this grand and noble history will be in much fashion +and all noble and valiant persons will take pleasure in it and gain from +it augmentation of profit." So, seeking fresh chapters, he had come to +Orthez, where he was at once handsomely received by Count Gaston at this +Castle of Moncade. Here he remained through the winter, affable and +inquiring and observant, adding many pages to his history,--which, his +host assured him, would in times to come be more sought after than any +other; "'because,' added he, 'my fair sir, more gallant deeds of arms +have been performed within these last fifty years, and more wonderful +things have happened, than for three hundred years before. '" + +"The style of Froissart," says Taine, who has so marvelously divined the +inner spirit of those times, "artless as it is, deceives us. We think +we are listening to the pretty garrulousness of a child at play; beneath +this prattle we must distinguish the rude voice of the combatants, +bear-hunters and hunters of men too, and the broad, coarse hospitality +of feudal manners. At midnight the Count of Foix came to supper in the +great hall. 'Before him went twelve lighted torches, borne by twelve +valets; and the same twelve torches were held before his table and gave +much light unto the hall, which was full of knights and squires; and +always there were plenty of tables laid out for any person who chose to +sup.' It must have been an astonishing sight to see those furrowed faces +and powerful frames, with their furred robes and their justicoats +streaked under the wavering flashes of the torches." And one of +Froissart's characteristic anecdotes is cited, which merits giving even +more in full: "On Christmas Day, when the Count de Foix was celebrating +the feast with numbers of knights and squires, as is customary, the +weather was piercing cold, and the count had dined, with many lords, in +the hall. After dinner he rose and went into a gallery, which has a +large staircase of twenty-four steps: in this gallery is a chimney where +there is a fire kept when the count inhabits it, otherwise not; and the +fire is never great, for he does not like it: it is not for want of +blocks of wood, for Béarn is covered with wood in plenty to warm him if +he had chosen it, but he has accustomed himself to a small fire. When in +the gallery, he thought the fire too small, for it was freezing and the +weather very sharp, and said to the knights around him: 'Here is but a +small fire for this weather.' The Bourg d'Espaign instantly ran down +stairs; for from the windows of the gallery, which looked into the +court, he had seen a number of asses laden with billets of wood for the +use of the house; and seizing the largest of these asses with his load, +threw him over his shoulders and carried him up stairs, pushing through +the crowd of knights and squires who were around the chimney, and flung +ass and load with his feet upward on the dogs of the hearth, to the +delight of the count and the astonishment of all." + + +IV. + +Gaston himself was a type of the time. He had its virtues and its vices, +both magnified. Hence, hearing an eye-witness draw his character for us +is to gain a direct if but partial insight into the character of his +era. Froissart's moral perspective is often curiously blurred, and in +the light of many of his anecdotes about the count his eulogium perhaps +needs qualification: "Count Gaston Phoebus de Foix, of whom I am now +speaking, was at that time fifty-nine years old; and I must say that +although I have seen very many knights, kings, princes and others, I +have never seen any so handsome, either in the form of his limbs and +shape, or in countenance, which was fair and ruddy, with grey and +amorous eyes that gave delight whenever he chose to express affection. +He was so perfectly formed, one could not praise him too much. He loved +earnestly the things he ought to love, and hated those which it was +becoming him so to hate. He was a prudent knight, full of enterprise and +wisdom. He had never any men of abandoned character with him, reigned +prudently, and was constant in his devotions. There were regular +nocturnals from the Psalter, prayers, from the rituals to the Virgin, to +the Holy Ghost, and from the burial service. He had every day +distributed as alms at his gate five florins in small coin to all +comers. He was liberal and courteous in his gifts; and well knew how to +take when it was proper and to give back where he had confidence." + +There is an obverse to the medallion. "The Count de Foix was very cruel +to any person who incurred his indignation, never sparing them, however +high their rank, but ordering them to be thrown over the walls, or +confined on bread and water during his pleasure; and such as ventured to +speak for their deliverance ran risks of similar treatment. It is a +well-known fact that he confined in a deep dungeon his cousin-german, +the Viscount de Châteaubon, during eight days; and he would not give him +his liberty until he had paid down forty thousand francs." + +And then in the very chapter with his eulogy, Sir John goes on to relate +the count's brutal killing of his own son in a fit of rage and +suspicion, and torturing fifteen retainers as possible accomplices of +the innocent lad; and elsewhere tells of his stabbing his half-brother +and letting him die in a dungeon of the tower, for refusing the +surrender of a fortress. This was the other side of Gaston's character, +and a side quite as representative. It was all in line with the time. +His reign was turbulent, magnificent, cruel, devout,--everything by +extremes. The man is characteristic of the mode, and Orthez in this +summarizes much of the life of the France of the Middle Ages. + + +V. + +These old annalists scarcely pause to censure this spirit of crime, this +hideous quickness to black deeds. They view it as a regrettable failing, +perhaps, and glowingly point to the doer's lavish religiousness in +return. Absolution covers a multitude of sins. To a generous son of the +Church much might be forgiven. "Among the solemnities which the Count de +Foix observes on high festivals," records his visitor, "he most +magnificently keeps the feast of St. Nicholas, as I learnt from a squire +of his household the third day after my arrival at Orthès. He holds this +feast more splendidly than that of Easter, and has a most magnificent +court, as I myself noticed, being present on that day. The whole clergy +of the town of Orthès, with all its inhabitants, walk in procession to +seek the count at the castle, who on foot returns with them to the +church of St. Nicholas, where is sung the psalm _Benedictus Dominus, +Deus meus, qui docet manus meas ad proelium et digitos meos ad bellum_, +from the Psalter of David, which, when finished, recommences, as is done +in the chapels of the pope or king of France on Christmas or Easter +Days; for there were plenty of choristers. The Bishop of Pamiers sang +the mass for the day; and I there heard organs play as melodiously as I +have ever heard in any place. To speak briefly and truly, the Count de +Foix was perfect in person and in mind; and no contemporary prince could +be compared with him for sense, honor or liberality." + + +VI. + +As to liberality, these robber barons were able to afford it. Mention is +incidentally made in conversation of Count Gaston's store of florins in +his Castle of Moncade at Orthez. Froissart instantly pricks up his ears: + +"'Sir,' said I to the knight, 'has he a great quantity of them?' + +"'By my faith,' replied he, 'the Count de Foix has at this moment a +hundred thousand, thirty times told; and there is not a year but he +gives away sixty thousand; for a more liberal lord in making presents +does not exist.'" + +We can see the good Sir John's eyes glistening: + +"'Ha, ha, holy Mary!' cried I, 'to what purpose does he keep so large a +sum? Where does it come from? Are his revenues so great to supply him +with it? To whom does he make these gifts? I should like to know this if +you please.' + +"He answered: 'To strangers, to knights and squires who travel through +his country, to heralds, minstrels, to all who converse with him; none +leave him without a present, for he would be angered should any one +refuse it.'" + +With such sums at disposal, Gaston might well indulge his passion for +the chase and keep sixteen hundred hounds. His hospitality too was +unbounded. When the Duke of Bourbon made a three-days' visit to Orthez, +he was "magnificently entertained with dinners and suppers. The Count de +Foix showed him good part of his state, which would recommend him to +such a person as the Duke of Bourbon. On the fourth day, he took his +leave and departed. The count made many presents to the knights and +squires attached to the duke, and to such an extent that I was told this +visit of the Duke of Bourbon cost him ten thousand francs.... Such +knights and squires as returned through Foix and waited on the count +were well received by him and received magnificent presents. I was told +that this expedition, including the going to Castile and return, cost +the Count de Foix, by his liberalities, upwards of forty thousand +francs." + +The King of France was entertained by Gaston at a dazzling banquet where +no less than two hundred and fifty dishes covered the tables. But a +succeeding Gaston outdid this in a lavish dinner, likewise to visiting +royalty, of which a faithful record has come down to us from old +documents. There were twelve wide tables, each seven yards long. At the +first, the count presiding, were seated the king and queen and the +princes of the blood, at the others foreign knights and lords according +to their rank and dignity. There were served seven elaborate courses, +each course requiring one hundred and forty plates of silver. There were +seven sorts of soup, then patties of capon, and the ham of the wild +boar; then partridge, pheasant, peacock, bittern, heron, bustard, +gosling, woodcock and swan. This was the third course, concluding with +antelope and wild horse. An _entremet_ or spectacle followed, and then a +course of small birds and game, this served on gold instead of silver. +Next appeared tarts and cakes and intricate pastries, and later, after +another spectacle, comfits and great moulds of conserves in fanciful and +curious forms,--the whole liberally helped down with varied wines, and +joyously protracted with music, dancing and tableaux. + + +VII. + +Gaston Phoebus died suddenly as he had lived violently. He was hunting +near Orthez, three years after Froissart's visit, and to ward evening +stopped at a country inn at Rion to sup. Within, the room was "strewed +with rushes and green leaves; the walls were hung with boughs newly cut +for perfume and coolness, as the weather was marvelously hot even for +the month of August. He had no sooner entered this room than he said: +'These greens are very agreeable to me, for the day has been desperately +hot.' When seated, he conversed with Sir Espaign du Lyon on the dogs +that had best hunted; during which conversation his son Sir Evan and +Sir Peter Cabestan entered the apartment, as the table had been there +spread." He called for water to wash, and two squires advanced; a +knight, the Bourg d'Espaign, (the hero of the Christmas Day exploit,) +took the silver basin and another knight the napkin. "The count rose +from his seat and stretched out his hands to wash; but no sooner had his +fingers, which were handsome and long, touched the cold water, than he +changed color, from an oppression at his heart, and his legs failing +him, fell back on his seat, exclaiming, 'I am a dead man: Lord God, have +mercy on me!'" + +It is a significant comment on the period, that amid the commotion at +the inn the first thought was of foul play. "The two squires who had +brought water to wash in the basin said, to free themselves from any +charge of having poisoned him: 'Here is the water; we have already drank +of it, and will now again in your presence,' which they did, to the +satisfaction of all. They put into his mouth bread and water and spices, +with other comforting things, but to no purpose, for in less than half +an hour he was dead, having surrendered his soul very quietly. God, out +of his grace, was merciful to him." + +He was entombed before the altar in the little church at Orthez, with +imposing obsequies. No epitaph remains, but this of a preceding Gaston, +buried in the same church, deserves note for its curious, jingling Latin +rhyme: + + "Continet hæc fossa Gastonis principis ossa, + Nobilis ac humilis aliis, pulvis sibi vilis, + Subjectis parcens, hastes pro viribus arcens. + Da veniam, Christe, flos militiæ fuit isle, + Et virtute precum, confer sibi gaudia tecum, + Gastonis nomen gratum fert auribus omen, + Mulcet prolatum, dulcescis sæpe relatum," + +Two hundred years afterward, in the tumult of Protestant iconoclasm, +Gaston Phoebus's tomb was broken open, its débris sold, piece by piece, +and Montgomery's Huguenots derisively kicked the august skull about the +streets of Orthez and used it for a bowling-ball: + + "They hopped among the weeds and stones, + And played at skittles with his bones." + + +VIII. + +There are a few gleams of humor among these grim recounts. It was always +tinged with the sardonic. Pitard, moralist and pedant, staying at the +Béarnais court, fell into a dispute with a poet, Théophile: + +"''T is a pity,' sneered Pitard, finally, 'that, having so much spirit, +you know so little!' + +"''T is a pity,' retorted Théophile, 'that, knowing so much, you have so +little spirit!'" + +Often the jests take a religious turn. The chaplain of one of the counts +of Orthez, defending his own unpriestly fondness for hunting, asserted +that the ten horns of the stag (_cerf_) stood for the Decalogue; and +that the stag was to be as ardently followed as the sovereign pontiff, +the latter being himself _le cerf des cerfs,--servus servorum_. + +If a husband were seriously rasped by his wife, or their tempers could +not agree, he was wont to retire her to a convent. "He did not send her +to the devil," remarks a sly annalist, "but he gave her to the Lord." + +And read this whimsical epitaph on an organist of the cathedral at +Lescar, a bishopric near Orthez. He died in the fifteenth century: + + "As you pass, pray God for his soul, that having assisted in the + music of this world, he may be received forever among the blessed + to assist in the celestial music. Amen." + +Orthez is known to our century as the scene of a spiteful battle +between Wellington and Soult, engaging eighty thousand men, and ending +in the victory of the former and the rout of the French. But the town is +so deeply sunk in the past that its kinship with modern events seems +almost cause for resentment; and we will leave it as it is, with its +older glories and memories thickly crusted upon it. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE LITTLE PARIS OF THE SOUTH." + + +When the Count of Foix made a hunting trip to his _château mignon_ on +the present site of Pau, he found it a goodly journey. There were +quagmires and waste land to pass, and the visit and return were not to +be made in a sun's shining. More greatly than avenging spirits from his +dungeons the spirit of steam would affright him to-day, as it goes +roaring over the levels in a hundred minutes to the same destination. + +From Orthez, it is less than two hours by rail, and we are at last in +Pau. The _Midi_ line is accurately on time. These French railroads are +operated by the State; they are not afflicted with parallel lines and +bitter competition; they have no occasion, as our roads have, to +advertise a faster schedule than can possibly be carried out. +Consequently their time-tables aim to state the exact truth, and the +roads can and do live up to it. + +It is late in the evening when we arrive, and we seek no impressions. A +comfortable omnibus winds us up an infinity of turns, through an +apparent infinity of streets, and we are at the Hotel Gassion. + +It is impossible to be entirely impressionless, even for travelers at +ten at night. It is the hotel itself which makes the dent. Our vague +misgivings as to the "dismal roadside inns" awaiting our tour have +already been arrested at Biarritz and San Sebastian. They are sent into +exile from Pau. The Hotel Gassion, whose name honors a stout old +Béarnais warrior, is fitly a palace. It cost four hundred thousand +dollars. A cushioned elevator lifts us smoothly upward to our rooms, +which prove high-ceiled and unusually large and have dressing-rooms +attached. The dark walls accord with a deep mossy carpet. The +furnishings are massive in mahogany, polished and carved: a wardrobe, +dressing-cases, a writing-desk; a sofa-couch, made inaccessible, as +everywhere in Europe, by the barrier of a huge round table; padded +arm-chairs, upholstered in silk damask; and, acme of prevision, a +praying-chair. The beds seem beds of state, covered and canopied with +some satiny material; and both silk and lace curtains part before the +windows, showing separate balconies in the night outside. The +dining-hall and the parlors, which we do not seek until the morning, +prove to be on an equally expensive scale; paintings of the Pyrenees +hang in the wide halls; and there is a conservatory and winter-garden +opening on the terrace. The building is of grey stone, with corner +towers and turrets and an imposing elevation, and has less the look of a +hotel than of a royal _Residenz_. + +Our estimates of the standards of comfort in the Pyrenees are +perceptibly heightened by the evening's impressions alone, as we discuss +our surroundings and the Apollinaris. With Pau thus rivaling Lucerne, we +grow more confident for Eaux-Bonnes and Cauterets, Luchon and Bigorre. +And as, from the balcony, we look in vain across the murky night to see +the snow-peaks which we know are facing us, we agree that here at the +good Hotel Gassion we could luxuriously outstay the lengthiest storm to +view them. + + +II. + +We are glad when daylight comes, as boys are on Christmas morning. The +present we are eager for is the sight of the Pyrenees snow-peaks. The +sun is shining, the sky clear. Even coffee and rolls seem time-wasters, +and we hasten out to the terrace. + +Yes, the Pyrenees are before us. There stretches the range, its relief +walling the southern horizon from west to the farthest east, the line of +snow-tusks sharp and white in the sunshine. They are distant yet, but +they stand as giants, parting two kingdoms. Austere and still, they face +us, as they have faced this spot since that stormy Eocene morning when +they sprang like the dragon's white teeth from the earth. + +The view is a far-reaching one. The eye sweeps the broadside of the +entire west-central chain,--a full seventy miles from right to left. The +view might recall, as the greater recalls the less, the winter summits +of the Adirondacks, seen from the St. Regis mountain. It has been more +equally paired with the line of the distant Alps seen from the platform +at Berne. I may parallel it, too, again in Switzerland, with the view of +the Valais peaks which bursts on one when, winding upward past the +Daubensee and its desolation, he comes out suddenly upon the brink of +the great wall of the Gemmi. But here there is a warmth in the view +beyond that of Switzerland. Some one has said that "snow is regarded as +the type of purity not because it is cold but because it is spotless." +This distant snow-line is spotless, but to the eye at least it is not +cold. + +Here as there, the separate peaks have their separate personality. It is +not a blur of nameless tips. Two especially arrest attention, south and +southeast, for they rise head and shoulders above their neighbors. Each +bears the name of the _Pic du Midi_. That opposite us, dominating the +valley of Ossau, is the _Pic du Midi d'Ossau_. It is ice-capped and +jagged,-- + + "A rocky pyramid, + Shooting abruptly from the dell + Its thunder-splintered pinnacle,"-- + +the Matterhorn of the Pyrenees. That on the left is the noted _Pic du +Midi de Bigorre_, famed for the view from its top. Other prominent peaks +are also pointed out. _Mont Perdu_ and the _Vignemale_, two of the +princes of the chain, are partly hidden by other summits, and are too +distant to rule as they ought. The monarch _Maladetta_, the highest +summit of the Pyrenees, is farther eastward still and cannot be seen +from Pau. + +It is a repaying prospect; a majestic salutation, preceding the nearer +acquaintance to come. One thing we know instantly. There will be no lack +of noble scenery in these mountains. We shall find wild views among +their rocks and ice,--views, it must be, which shall dispute with many +in the Alps. + +This prospect from the terrace at Pau is a celebrated one. Icy peaks are +not all that is seen. In front of them the ranges rise, still high from +the plain, but smoothed and softened with the green of pines and turf. +Between these and the Pau valley spread hidden leagues of rolling +plains, swelling as they approach us into minor ravelins of foothills +known as the _coteaux_; and little poplar-edged streams, "creaming over +the shallows," winding their way toward the valley just below us, are +coming from the long slopes to join the hurrying Gave de Pau. Houses and +hamlets are here and there, and the even streak of the railway; and +over toward the coteaux we see the village of Jurançon, famed for its +wines. + +The terrace falls sheer away, a fifty-foot wall from where we stand, and +at its base, as we lean over the parapet, we see houses and alleys and +just beneath us a school-yard of shouting, frolicking children. We +brighten their play with a few friendly sous, as one enlivens the +Bernese bear-pit with carrots. + +Behind us, the Hotel Gassion rises to cut off the streets beyond it; to +the right, along the terrace a few hundred yards, stands a stout old +building, square and firm, which we know at once for the castle of Henry +of Navarre. + + +III. + +"In most points of view," as Johnson observes, in his _Sketches in the +South of France_, "we look down the valley and see on either side its +mountain walls; or we are placed upon culminating points overtopping all +the rest of the prospect; but here the view is across the depression and +against the vast panorama, which opposes the eye at all quarters, and +comprehends within it the whole of the picture. High up in the snow the +very pebbles seem to lie so distinctly that, but for the space between, +a boy might pick them up; lower down, from among the brown heather thin +blue streaks stream aloft from some cottage chimney, winding along the +brae-side till melted into air. We half expect to see some human figure +traverse those white fields and mark the footprints he leaves behind, +some shepherd with his dog crossing from valley to valley. Alas! it is +twenty miles away, the pebbles are huge masses of projecting rock, +precipices on which the snow cannot rest; yonder smoke is from the +charcoal-burner's fire, which would take in a cottage for a mouthful of +fuel, and a dozen men piled on each other's shoulders might at this +moment be swallowed up in these snow-beds and we never the wiser. + +"With the warm sunlight upon it, and the pure, clear blue above, into +which these great shapes are wedged like a divine mosaic, the scene +looks so spotless and holy in its union with the heavens that one might +fancy it a link between this earthliness and the purity above, 'the +heaven-kissing hill' on which angels' feet alight. The great vision of +marvelous John Bunyan seemed there realized, and we had found the +Immanuel's Land and these were the Delectable Mountains. 'For,' said he, +'when the morning was up they bid him look South; so he did, and behold, +at a great distance he saw a most pleasant mountainous country +beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also; +with springs and fountains very delectable to behold.... It was common, +too, for all the pilgrims, and from thence they might see the gates of +the Celestial City.'" + + +IV. + +At the other side of the hotel we are in Pau. There is not very much +that is impressive in its general appearance. We go by a patch of park +and through a mediocre street, and find ourselves in the public +square,--the Carfax of the city. From this run east and south its two +chief streets. All of the buildings are low and most of them dingy. We +expected newer, higher, more Parisian effects. At the right of the +square is the long, flat market-building, vocal, in and out, this early +morning, with bustling hucksters superintending their stalls. The +square itself is bright with the colors of overflowing flowers and +fabrics and other idols of the market-place. Neat little heaps of fruit, +apexed into "ball-piled pyramids," are guarded by characterful old +women, alert and intent, whose heads, coifed with striped kerchiefs, nod +a reward to the purchaser with a hearty "_Merci, monsieur_!" + +[Illustration] + +Few of the streets in the town are well paved, and few of the villas +seen in driving in the suburbs aid to raise the architectural average. +Except for its palace-hotels, Pau seems to show little of artistic +building enterprise. + +This city, so popular with the English, is rarely spoken of in America. +There, in fact, it is singularly little known. This is no truer of Pau +than of the Pyrenees themselves; but even to Englishmen who may know as +little as we of the latter, the former is familiar ground. Four thousand +Britons winter here annually, besides French and other visitors, and Pau +runs well in the hibernal race, even against Mentone and Nice. Its +hotels alone would evidence this. Up to these, there are all grades of +good accommodation,--the _pensions_, of good or better class; furnished +apartments, or a flat to be rented by the season; whole villas to be +leased or purchased, as the intending comer may prefer. + +One can leave Paris or Marseilles by the evening express and be in Pau +the next afternoon,--about the same length of time as required to reach +St. Augustine from New York. This is certainly far from a formidable +journey, and it is matter for surprise that the adventurous American +does not oftener take it. + +The favor of the spot, it owes to its climate. Something there is,--some +meteorological idiosyncrasy in its location,--which guards its still, +mild air, the winter through. Storms rage impotently down from the +mountains or across the Landes; they cannot pass the charmed barrier of +the coteaux. Winds are rare in Pau. Rain is not rare; but the +atmosphere, even when damp, is not chilling, and the lines of rain fall +soft and never aslant. There is a tradition of an old sea-captain who +once made a brief stay here and who, as he took his daily walks, was +noticed as constantly and restlessly whistling. He finally left in +disgust, with the remark that there was not a capful of wind to be had +in the place. + +The winter colony takes full possession of the town. It passes thirty +thousand inhabitants under the yoke, as Rome passed their forefathers +the Aquitani. Pau in the season is a British oligarchy. Society fairly +spins. There are titles, and there is money; there are drives, calls, +card-parties; dances and dinners; clubs,--with front windows; theatres, +a Casino, English schools, churches; tennis, polo, cricket; racing, +coaching,--and, _Anglicissime_, a tri-weekly fox-hunt! For some years, +too, the position of master of the hounds, a post of much social +distinction in Pau, was held by a well-known American, so we are +told,--a fact certainly hitherto unheralded to many of his countrymen. + +Socially, there is a wide range of entertainment at Pau. What Johnson +wrote of it thirty years ago is not materially inapplicable to-day: "One +set, whom you may call the banqueteers, give solemn, stately dinners +immediately before going to bed; another perform a hybrid entertainment, +between the English tea-party, and the Continental soirée, where you may +enjoy your Bohea and Souchong, play long small whist, and occasionally +listen to ponderous harmonies solemnly performed. A third are the +formal rout-givers, the white-kid-and-slipper, orchestra-and-programme, +dance-and-sit-down-to-supper folks; so like home that it only requires +Gunter's men to fancy oneself in Baker Street of olden times. Another is +the delightful soirée _pur sang_, where everybody comes as a matter of +course, and where everybody who does not sing, dances or plays, or is a +phenomenon in charades, or writes charming impromptus, or talks like the +last book, or can play at any known game from loto to chess, or knows +all the gossip of the last six hours; and where everybody chats and +laughs, and sends everybody else comfortably home in the best of humors +just about the time that the great people are expecting the _coiffeur_ +to arrive." + +Thus there is a stir in the Pyrenees the year around. In the winter, at +Pau; in summer, at the twenty cures and centres among the mountains. The +proprietor of a winter hotel here will own also his summer hostelry at +Bigorre or Cauterets. In the summer, it is the French and Spanish to +whom he caters, for they have so far been the ones most appreciative +both of the springs and the scenery of these mountains. And so, with the +rise and dip of the seasons, the European element waxes as the English +wanes, in a kind of solstitial see-saw. And the smiling landlord stands +upon the pivot. + + * * * * * + +The clouds are closing in, after granting us that glittering panorama, +and the morning grows dull and dark. We explore the book-stores, and +finally find the old Library in the upper story of the market-building. +Here two of us at least pass a long and contentful forenoon. + + +V. + +In fierce Count Gaston's time, Béarn centred in Orthez, and Pau was but +his hunting-box. Two hundred years later, Pau had become the focus, and +Béarn and Foix not only, but French Navarre as well, were its united +kingdom. Gaston's Castle of Moncade had aged into history,-- + + "Outworn, far and strange, + A transitory shame of long ago," + +and the hunting-box had grown in its turn to castle's stature. + +The world had brightened during the two centuries. Constantinople had +fallen and the Renaissance came. Luther had posted his theses on the +Wittemberg church door and the Reformation took root. Men were older +than when Froissart lived and wrote. And this active province of Béarn +kept pace; it opened quickly to the new influences, was alive to the +changing _zeitgeist_. There remained the chivalric still,--and a trace +of the barbaric,--as with the outer world; in short, in its faults and +fervor's, in its codes and standards, the sixteenth century is aptly +summed up in Béarn-Navarre,--and Navarre in its famous Henry. + + +VI. + +And so, on the following morning, we pass into the courtyard of his +castle here at Pau with the feeling that in some sense we are evoking +the shade of the era, not of the man. The feeling dies hard; but the +robustious, business-like guide that herds us together with other +comers, and shepherds us all briskly through the official round, goes +very far toward killing it. There is little that one needs to remember +of the successive rooms and halls; it is a confusion of polished floors, +and vases, and tapestry, and porphyry tables, and the rest,--adorned and +illumined by a voluble Gallic description. Later French kings have +restored the old building, and stocked it with Paris furniture, and made +it modern and comfortable. One is always divided in spirit over these +restorations. The castle needed help painfully; it had been badly used +by the Revolution; and it had been debased to a barrack by Napoleon's +troops, who "stabled their steeds in the courts and made their drunken +revelry resound in the chambers of Marguerite of Angoulême." Dismantled, +half-roofless, its great halls, unsheltered and unsheltering, it was +wasting fast under the elements into picturesque but irreparable ruin. +And I suppose the pleasure of kings and the peace of utilitarians ought +fairly to outweigh the disappointments of the touring impression-seeker. + +In one apartment, however, we make a stand. The herd and its shepherd +can pass along. This, he has told us, is the birthplace of Henry IV. The +floor is polished like the rest, and the furniture has been in part +renewed, but the room is the same which that alert baby first laughed +upon. In the corner at the right is an antique bed of carved walnut, +with four posts and a rich canopy. Around its side are cut in the wood +an elaborate series of medallions, each a foot square, representing the +heads of the kings of France. Across the apartment swings still a great +tortoise-shell, which served the royal infant for a cradle,--saved +afterward from the furies of the Revolution by the substitution of a +false shell in its place.[15] + +[15] The genuineness of the present shell has frequently been +questioned; but the testimony of LAGRÈZE has now fairly established the +story of its preservation. + + +In this room, Jeanne d'Albret sang a Béarnais song as the hero of Ivry +was born, and so won the wager with her martial old father, the King of +Navarre; and the boy came into the world smiling and unafraid. And +writers tell us how delighted the old king was, and how he took the +infant into his arms, and rubbed its lips with a garlic clove, and +tilted into its little mouth from a golden goblet some drops of the +manly wine of Jurançon. When Queen Jeanne herself was born in this very +castle, twenty-five years before, the Spaniards had sneered: "A miracle! +the cow (of the arms of Béarn) has given birth to a ewe!" "My ewe," +exclaimed the happy old father now, "has brought forth a lion! _Tu seras +un vray Béarnais!_" + + +VII. + +Henry's life was as martial and as merry as his grandfather sought to +form it. He grew up on the coteaux in a hardy, fresh-air life, and at +nineteen became King of Navarre,--the title including Béarn and Foix. +Into this old room in the castle where we stand throng reminders of his +career, its beginnings so closely twined with Pau. Independent still as +under Gaston, the sovereigns of the stout little kingdom had lived +friends but no subjects of the King of France; and the Court at Pau, +always proud and autonomous as the Court at Paris, had become defiantly +Protestant besides. And now if ever it had a sovereign after its own +heart. Henry was kingly, but a king of the people. He had their spirit. +His long, keen, grizzled face was alight with ready comradeship. "I want +my poorest subject," he said, "to have a fowl for his pot on Sundays." +He was a Béarnais from sole to crown,--in bravery and craft, tact and +recklessness, in virtues, and--which pleased them as much--in vices. "He +was plain of speech, rough in manner,--with a quaint jest alike for +friend or foe; his hand upon his sword, his foot in the stirrup, his gun +slung across his shoulder, the first in assault, the last in retreat. +Irregular in his habits, eating at no stated times, but when hungry +voraciously devouring everything that pleased him, especially fruit and +oysters; negligent, not to say dirty, in his person, and smelling strong +of garlic. A man who called a spade a spade, swore like a trooper, and +hated the parade of courts; was constant in friendship, promised +anything freely, a boon companion, a storyteller, cynical in his +careless epicureanism, and so profound a believer in the 'way of fate,' +that reckless of the morrow he extracted all things from the passing +hour."[16] + +[16] ELLIOTT: _Old Court Life in France_. + + +Time had not jogged on so far, in journeying from Orthez to Pau, as to +forget all his mediæval ways,--his promptings to strife and feuds, his +liking for adventures. Henry had abundance of them, in his running fire +against his neighbor-enemies, in his hot Protestant struggles against +the Medicis, in his hotter fight for the throne of France. There are +both meats and sweetmeats in his career,--strong deeds and knightly +diversions. "These old wars are the most poetic in French history; they +were made for pleasure rather than interest. It was a chase in which +adventures, dangers, emotions were found, in which men lived in the +sunlight, on horseback, amidst flashes of fire, and where the body as +well as the soul had its enjoyment and its exercise. Henry carries it on +as briskly as a dance, with a Gascon's fire and a soldier's ardor.... +This is no spectacle of great masses of well-disciplined men coming +heavily into collision and falling by thousands on the field, according +to the rules of good tactics. The king leaves Pau or Nérac with a little +troop, picks up the neighboring garrisons on his way, scales a fortress, +intercepts a body of arquebusiers as they pass, extricates himself +pistol in hand from the midst of a hostile troop, and returns.... They +arrange their plan from day to day; nothing is done unless unexpectedly +and by chance. Enterprises are strokes of fortune.... To act, to dare, +to enjoy, to expend force and trouble like a prodigal, to be given up to +the present sensation, be forever urged by passions forever lively, +support and search the extremes of all contrasts, that was the life of +the sixteenth century."[17] + +[17] _Tour Through the Pyrenees_. + + +Exciting incidents abound among Henry's dashing forays. He exposed +himself to every risk he asked of his men, deaf even to their own +entreaties that he should take more care of his life. More than once it +was his personal leadership alone that carried the day. For example, +there was a hostile city on the river Lot. Henry coveted it. Its +garrison was strong; its governor scoffed: "a fig for the Huguenots!" +Henry would brave defeat sooner than brook defiance. He marched to the +town at once. "It was in the month of June," as Sully relates it in his +_Memoirs,_ "the weather extremely hot, with violent thunder but no rain. +He ordered us to halt in a plantation of walnut trees, where a fountain +of running water afforded us some refreshment;" and after a brief rest, +he disposed his little army, and planned his attack: + +"We had three gates to force; these we made haste to throw down with the +petard, after which we made use of hatchets. The breaches were so low +that the first who entered were obliged to creep through on their hands +and feet. At the noise of the petard, forty men armed and about two +hundred arquebusiers ran almost naked to dispute our entry; meantime the +bells rung the alarm, to warn everybody to stand to their defence. In a +moment, the houses were covered with soldiers, who threw large pieces of +wood, tiles and stones upon us, with repeated cries of 'Charge, kill +them!' We soon found that they were resolved to receive us boldly; it +was necessary therefore at first to sustain an encounter, which lasted +above a quarter of an hour and was very terrible. I was cast to the +ground by a large stone that was cast out of a window; but by the +assistance of the Sieur de la Bertichère and La Trape, my valet de +chambre, I recovered, and resumed my post. All this time we advanced +very little, for fresh platoons immediately succeeded those that fled +before us; so that before we gained the great square, we had endured +more than twelve battles. My cuisses being loosened, I was wounded in +the left thigh. At last we got to the square, which we found barricaded, +and with infinite labor we demolished those works, being all the time +exposed to the continual discharge of the artillery, which the enemy had +formed into a battery. + +"The King of Navarre continued at the head of his troops during all +these attacks; he had two pikes broke, and his armor was battered in +several places by the fire and blows of the enemy. We had already +performed enough to have gained a great victory; but so much remained +to do that the battle seemed only to be just begun; the city being of +large extent and filled with so great a number of soldiers that we in +comparison of them were but a handful. At every cross-way we had a new +combat to sustain, and every stone house we were obliged to storm; each +inch of ground so well defended that the King of Navarre had occasion +for all his men, and we had not a moment's leisure to take breath. + +"It is hardly credible that we could endure this violent exercise for +five whole days and nights, during which time not one of us durst quit +his post for a single moment, take any nourishment but with his arms in +his hand, or sleep except for a few moments leaning against the shops. +Fatigue, faintness, the weight of our arms, and the excessive heat, +joined to the pain of our wounds, deprived us of the little remainder of +our strength; our feet, scorched with heat and bleeding in many places, +gave us agonies impossible to be expressed. + +"The citizens, who suffered none of these inconveniences and who became +every minute more sensible of the smallness of our numbers, far from +surrendering, thought of nothing but protracting the fight till the +arrival of some succors, which they said were very near; they sent forth +great cries, and animated each other by our obstinacy. Though their +defence was weak, yet they did enough to oblige us to keep upon our +guard, which completed our misfortunes. In this extremity the principal +officers went to the king, and advised him to assemble as many men as he +could about his person and open himself a retreat. They redoubled their +instances at the report which was spread and which they found to be +true, that the succors expected by the enemy were arrived at the bar +and would be so soon in the city that he would have but just time to +force the wall and secure himself a passage. But this brave prince, +whose courage nothing was ever able to suppress, turning toward them +with a smiling countenance and air so intrepid as might have inspired +courage into the most pusillanimous heart: ''Tis heaven,' said he, +'which dictates what I ought to do upon this occasion; remember then +that my retreat out of this city, without having secured one also to my +party, shall be the retreat of my soul from my body. My honor requires +this of me; speak therefore to me of nothing but fighting, conquest or +death.'" + +There could be but one issue to such words. Henry fought till +reinforcements came to him, and the town fell. + + * * * * * + +Anecdotes of Henry are in a very real sense anecdotes of Béarn. The one +following, lines out two of the king's best qualities. He was besieging +a strong city in Poitou. "We applied ourselves without ceasing to the +trenches and undermining. The King of Navarre took inconceivable pains +in this siege; he conducted the miners himself, after he had taken all +the necessary precautions to hinder supplies from entering without; the +bridges, avenues and all the roads that lead to the city were strictly +guarded, as likewise great part of the country.... The mining was so far +advanced that we could hear the voices of the soldiers who guarded the +parapets, within the lodgment of the miners. The King of Navarre was the +first who perceived this; he spoke and made himself known to the +besieged; who were so astonished at hearing him name himself from the +bottom of these subterraneous places that they demanded leave to +capitulate. The proposals were all made by this uncommon way; the +articles were drawn up or rather dictated by the King of Navarre, whose +word was known by the besieged to be so inviolable that they did not +require a writing. They had no cause to repent of this confidence; the +King of Navarre, charmed with a proceeding so noble, granted the +garrison military honors and preserved the city from pillage." + + +VIII. + +The great satisfaction in contemplating the career of Henry is in the +fact that it succeeded. His ambitions, maturing in purpose, ended in +result. The King of Navarre found himself at last the King of France. + +The path had not been of roses. He had captured two hundred towns and +fought in sixty battles on his way. He himself had strewed thorns for +others as well. His wars spread suffering throughout France. His +skirmishings, petty but many, add up to an appalling total of harm. +Henry as a model of renounced ambition is a failure. Read what his +Catholic enemies in Béarn said of him, in an address and appeal to the +Catholics of France; as now first translated out of its Old French, it +has an oddly Jeffersonian ring: + +"Knowing long since, to our cost, the nature of the wolf who seeks to +deceive and then devour you, we have deemed it duty to warn you of the +character of the beast, (_le naturel de la beste,_) so that by our +putting you on your guard he shall not have means to endamage you. +Within twenty years he has summoned a round million of foreign +mercenaries to pillage and rend your kingdom. He has sacked and +demolished two thousand monasteries and twenty thousand (_sic!_) +churches; he has wrecked no less than nine hundred hospitals; he has +caused the death, by war and divers punishments, of nearly one million, +six hundred thousand men. In the face of his assurances to the nobility +in 1580 and of his reiterated protestations, he has put up our very +priests at auction and sold them off to the highest bidder, in order +that his Huguenots might have on whom to wreak at leisure their diabolic +hatred. He thinks himself King of France; it is a malady common to the +crack-brained to fancy themselves kings of the first realm they spy and +to fashion them seigniories in the air. Beware trusting your fowls to +this fox!" + +Evidently the Béarnais hero had made some tolerably strong enemies in +pursuing his ambitions. No less truly his ambitions had made some +tolerably wide gaps in his ethics. + +But the world pardons much to success. And this man had a certain +high-mindedness in him which compels admiration. When the battle of Ivry +was commencing, "he remembered," relates Perefix, an old historian, +"that the evening before the battle he had used some harsh expressions +to Colonel Theodoric Schomberg, who had asked him for money, and told +him in a passion that it was not acting like a man of honor to demand +money when he came to take orders for fighting. He afterward went to +him, when he was ranging his troops in order, and said: 'Colonel, we are +now upon the point; perhaps I shall never go from this place; it is not +just that I should deprive a brave gentleman as you are of your honor; I +come therefore to declare that I know you to be an honest man and +incapable of committing a base action.' Saying this, he embraced him +with great affection."[18] + +[18] "The colonel," continues Perefix, "sensibly moved with this +behavior, replied with tears in his eyes: 'Ah, Sire! in restoring to me +my honor you take away my life; for after this I should be unworthy of +your favor if I did not sacrifice it to-day for your service. If I had a +thousand lives I would lay them all at your feet.' In fact he was killed +upon this occasion." + + +He besieged Paris, but would not storm it. "I am like the true mother +in the judgment of Solomon," was his famous declaration; "I would rather +not have Paris at all than see it torn to pieces." "The Duke of Nemours +sent all useless mouths out of Paris; the king's council opposed his +granting them passage; but the king, being informed of the dreadful +scarcity to which these miserable wretches were reduced, ordered that +they should be allowed to pass. 'I am not surprised,' said he, 'that the +Spaniards and the chiefs of the League have no compassion upon these +poor people; they are only tyrants; as for me, I am their father and +their king, and cannot hear the recital of their calamities without +being pierced to my inmost soul and ardently desiring to bring them +relief.'" + +Take it good and bad, lion of ewe, the character of Jeanne's high son is +crystallized in one saying of his: "I would give a whole finger to have +a battle,--and two to have a general peace." + + * * * * * + +With delight Pau watched her merry monarch; backed his final claim to +the throne of St. Louis, made on the death of the last of the Medici +kings and traced back through nine generations; followed tensely his +long contest for that high prize, his rivalry with the League and with +Philip of Spain, his victories at Arques and Ivry, his coronation, and +his wise reign as Henry the Fourth of France. His fame was hers. The +hour he died,--stabbed while in his state-carriage at Paris by the +dagger of a fanatic,--"a tempest broke over the place of his birth, and +lightning shivered to pieces the royal arms suspended over the gateway +of the castle." + + _"Rubente + Dextera sacras jaculatas arces, + Terruit urbem"_ + + +IX. + +A winter station such as Pau is a hub with many spokes. Excursions and +drives are in all directions. Idle fashion enjoys its outlets to the +air, and invalidism demands them. Each hamlet is a picnic resort. One +has choice of time and space, from an hour's ramble in the park, to a +day's long visit to the monster sight of the mountains, the Cirque of +Gavarnie. The park, as we pass, deserves its hour's ramble. Its wide +promenade, arched with great trees, is entered not far from the castle, +and leads along the torrent of the Gave, whose source we are later to +see in the snows around Gavarnie itself. It is the scene of the favorite +constitutional of Pau,--a neutral ground for all social factions. + +Four drives in particular point us each to its own quarter of the +compass. One is long, with the watering places of Eaux Chaudes and Eaux +Bonnes for its double destination. The others, nearer in distance, lead +farther in event,--back through the centuries, ninety, fifty, thirty +decades, in turn. + +The first of these is to Morlaäs, the earliest capital of Béarn. The +distance is seven miles. Though the road is flat and tame, the ride +affords superb prospects of the line of the Pyrenees, and these +culminate at the top of the hill just before descending to the village. +Here the panorama is even finer than from Pau. Easterly ranges have come +into the field. The sweep of the mountain barrier in sight is a full +hundred miles, and the waste of intervening plains, no longer hidden by +coteaux, increases the impression of distance without lessening that of +height. The greater peaks rise now into better proportion. Mont Perdu +and the Vignemale loom above their neighbors, and best of all is seen +far away the crown at least of the great Maladetta. + +You must enjoy Morlaäs wholly for its past. You cannot enjoy it for its +present. It is a poor, dejected, straggling street, noticeable only for +mud and stones and dun-coated hovels. It does not, like Fuenterrabia, +retain the picturesqueness of its antiquity. There, it is the old town's +to-day that carries us delightfully back into its yesterday. But at +Morlaäs there is neither to-day nor yesterday. + +For the prime of this place antedates old Fuenterrabia by many a hundred +years. The latter may come to the former's estate as many centuries +hence. Orthez is but in middle life, Pau a summer stripling, in the +presence of this wreck of time. Poor Morlaäs! Thou hast seen thy long +successor rise and reign and fall, succeeded in its turn by the +brilliant capital that now sends hither its subjects to scoff at thy +driveling old age. + +To share the mood of this grey spot you must travel far back, down its +dim retrospect. You must retrace long, successive eras, sensitive to the +spirit of each as you pass. You must cross the sixteenth century, +brightening into humanity yet still un-human,--the vivid, reckless King +of Navarre its type. You must penetrate beyond the twilight where Count +Gaston's armor flashes across from the brutal towers of Orthez, lawless +and splendid; you must grope back farther into the gloom, four hundred +years still, before you see the shadowy Morlaäs in its full stature, +proud, powerful, rude, rich,--the capital of old Béarn. + +Nine hundred years ago. Mohammed's name and power were still new. +Charles Martel had just saved Europe from the Saracens. England had not +been recreated by a Norman Conqueror. The Crusades were still undreamed +of. Art, science, letters, were in custody in the East. These armed +children ran riot,--passionate, intense, uncontrolled, loving fight and +finery as the Trojans, or the Norse heroes of the Sagas. + +A single fine portal of the original sanctuary is still to be seen. But +of the old castle not a trace remains; only its name survives,--_la +Hourquie_,--with its significant etymological story: _Horcæ,--furcæ,--- +fourches patibulaires_,--the gibbet. For these viscounts of Morlaäs had +recourse to a savage expedient to control the lawlessness of their day. +They kept a gallows-tree erect before the castle gateway, a speaking +symbol of vengeance, and there the blackened corpse, might hang until +replaced, swinging in the winter wind. There was a mint here also, which +stamped the metal of the little realm, and on the coins too appeared the +device of the gibbet. There is a tradition that the executions took +place only on market-days, and in the Pyrenees to this day the +market-gathering is known as the _Hourquie_. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +Eleven miles west leads us four centuries forward again from Morlaäs. +This is Lescar; with its ancient cathedral, the St. Denis of Béarn, the +burial-place of generations of its rulers. Morlaäs has been deposed, +and Orthez reigns in its stead,--with Lescar as primate. The gleam and +glory of chivalry have grown with the years. Here was the seat of the +church militant in its strongest manifestation. "The bishops of Lescar," +writes Johnson, satirically, "are said to have been well suited to the +times in which they lived; fighting when they could, and cursing when +they could not. In the early history of the province, they are found +lustily taking a part in the battles of the frontier country; and when +peaceful times came, getting up a comfortable trade with the intrusive +infidels they had so lately belabored. The reputation for wealth +acquired by this astute community seems to have brought its troubles +upon the enterprising diocesans, for tradition has it that in the +eleventh century Viscount Dax laid sacrilegious hands upon their +property. Whether he was too strong for the carnal weapon or spiritual +manifestations were deemed more appropriate to his particular case, +history does not record, but certain it is that the rebellious noble, +being deaf to expostulation, was excommunicated, and resenting that, was +seized with a leprosy, of which he died. His successor, adopting the +same line of policy as the deceased, was treated in the same way and +with the same result. So that between the thunders of the church and the +arms of the flesh, the Episcopality of Lescar waxed mightily, and its +bishops took the position of premier barons in the province, sitting +next to royalty in council and therein keeping to order all grumblers +against their rights and privileges. If two of the venerable prelates +themselves happened to disagree and logic failed them, then,--it being +scarcely orthodox for the reverend men to fight the matter out +personally,--they employed a couple of lusty varlets to settle the +business for them, and upon the weakest shoulders fell all the +consequent disadvantages; thus instituting a simple and expeditious +method of cutting short disputes by which the ecclesiastical courts of +the present day do not appear to have benefited." + +Lescar was called the _ville septénaire_; for it had, it is said, seven +churches, seven fountains, seven mills, seven woods, seven vineyards, +seven gates, and seven towers on the ramparts. It is another senile +hamlet now, and imagination must do all the work. Even the cathedral has +been altered, and in its large, rather plain interior are few relics of +its earlier state, few marks to tell of the after-despoiled tombs of +Henri Quatre's ancestry. There is a satisfying legend about this +sanctuary. One of the feudal rulers had a violent hatred for some +neighboring seignior, and finally secured his assassination. His hatred +was thereupon followed by a remorse equally violent,--these men were +violent in good as in bad, which redeems much; and in atonement he +rebuilt magnificently this cathedral, which was even then an old one, +and added to it a monastery as well. And to complete the story of poetic +expiation, the assassin he had employed became a penitent himself; was +later appointed one of the monks by his penitent patron; and ended by +rising to the reverend office of abbot itself. + +Southeast from Pau lies our third landmark of the past,--Coarraze. It is +a longer road and a dusty one, but a village will tell off each mile, +the Gave de Pau brings encouraging messages along the way, and the far +Pic du Midi de Bigorre keeps inspiringly in sight. Besides the commoner +trees to be met in this and other directions from Pau, are occasional +orange-trees, Spanish chestnuts, aloes, acacias, and here and there a +magnolia; but this region is north of much tropical verdure, even now in +July, and plain beech and oak play the principal parts. Coarraze can be +reached by rail also, and preferably so when haste is an object, for it +is thirteen miles by the highway, while the train covers the distance +within the half-hour. + +This spot too had its castle and its feudal barons, subject to the court +at Orthez. A tower of the castle still remains. It is of Raymond, one of +these barons, that Froissart tells the legend of the familiar spirit. +This obliging bogey was wont to visit his host as he lay asleep, waking +him to tell him what had happened during the day in distant countries. +His mode of rousing his patron was unceremonious, not to say boisterous. +In his first visit, he made a terrific tumult throughout the castle, +pounded the doors and casements, broke the plates in the kitchen, +appalled the sleeping servants, "knocking about everything he met with +in the castle, as if determined to destroy all within it.... On the +following night the noises and rioting were renewed, but much louder +than before; and there were such blows struck against the door and +windows of the chamber of the knight that it seemed they would break +them down." + +The baron could no longer desist from leaping out of his bed, and +proceeding to investigate matters; and in the end the bogey and he +became fast friends. In fact, the former "took such an affection to the +Lord de Corasse that he came often to see him in the night-time; and +when he found him sleeping, he pulled his pillow from under his head or +made great noises at the door or windows; so that when the knight was +awakened, he said, 'let me sleep.' + +"'I will not,' replied he, 'until I have told thee some news.' + +"The knight's lady was so much frightened, the hairs of her head stood +on end and she hid herself under the bed-clothes. + +"'Well,' said the knight, 'and what news hast thou brought me?' + +"The spirit replied, 'I am come from England, Hungary or some other +place, which I left yesterday, and such and such things have happened.' + +"Thus did the Lord de Corasse know by means of this messenger all things +that were passing in the different parts of the world;" and for years +this invisible mediæval sprite kept his patron comfortably posted on all +current events, in a ghostly adumbration of the modern newspaper press. + +But Coarraze and its castle carry us on later than Froissart's days. +Here young Prince Henry ran about in his hardy youth, and romped and +played pranks on his future subjects. Nothing delighted him more in +after life than to come back here and hunt up his old peasant +playfellows, bashful and reluctant, and bewilder and charm them with his +state and his _bonhomie_. Most of the old castle is gone now, destroyed +by a storm and since replaced by a newer structure. The old baron's +spirit-messenger or the "white lady" of the House of Navarre have only +the single tower remaining, for their ghostly visits,--finding change +over all save the far line of the Pyrenees glittering unearthly in the +moonlight. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE WARM WATERS AND THE PEAK OF THE SOUTH. + + "And we who love this land call it a _paradis terrestre_, because + life is fair in its happy sunshine,--it is beautiful, it is + plentiful, it is at peace."--_The Sun Maid._ + + +It is a nineteenth-century sun that wakes us, after all, each morning, +through the Gassion's broad windows. We can reconjure foregoing eras, +but we do not have to live in them. The hat has outlawed the helmet; the +clear call of the locomotive is unmistakably modern. Throughout Pau, in +its life, its people, its social rubrics; in its streets, shops, +hotels,--the thought is for the present age exclusively. The past is +appraised chiefly at what it can do for the present. Business and +society pursuits are not perceptibly saddened by memories of the +bear-hunt at Rion or the dagger of Ravaillac. + +And thus we come into the instant year once more, as we take the +mid-morning train from Pau. We point straight for the mountains. We are +on the way to Eaux Chaudes and Eaux Bonnes, before mentioned as a fourth +excursion from Pau; but we go not as an excursion merely, for they lie +directly in our farther route. These resorts, the repute of whose +springs we hear in advance, are south from Pau about twenty-eight miles; +twenty-five are now covered by the new railway, and the remaining three +are done by the diligence or by breack,--for the latter of which, we +telegraph. + +It is a brief journey by the rail. The longer post-road no longer +controls the travel. The train hastens on, by the coteaux, past +maize-fields and meadows, through odds and ends of villages, into +valleys more irregular, and among hills higher and steeper. Of Bielle, a +village where it halts for a moment, there is a well-turned story told +against Henry IV. It is one of the few cases where he was at a loss for +a retort. He admired the four marble columns in the church, and asked +for them; a kingly asking is usually equivalent to a command. But the +inhabitants made reply both dexterous and firm, and it proved +unanswerable. "Our hearts and our possessions are yours," they said; "do +with them as you will. But as to the columns, those belong to God; we +are bound for their custody, and you will have to arrange that with +Him!" + +When the train reaches its terminus at Laruns, we are fairly among the +highlands. Rising wedge-shaped beyond the town, dividing all progress, +is a mountain,--not a hill. To the left and right of it pass the roads +we are in turn to follow. On the left, two miles beyond the fork or +three from the railway's end, will be found Eaux Bonnes; on the right, +at the same distance, is its lesser equal, Eaux Chaudes, our first +objective point. + +In the distant direction of the former rises the snowy _Pic de Ger,_ +nearly nine thousand feet in height and conspicuous from where we stand +at the station platform. Still leftward, east of the hills, is a notch +in the mountains; through it, we are told, pierces the Route +Thermale,--the great carriage-road on to Cauterets and Bigorre, which we +are to take after visiting the Eaux. + +Here at the Laruns station, we find our breack awaiting us,--a peer of +the peerless Biarritz equipage. It has been sent down from Eaux Bonnes +to meet us. Trunk and baggage are stowed away, and we are driven up the +straight, sloping road from the station into the village of Laruns +itself, where a stop is to be made for lunch. + +The appearances are not prepossessing. Laruns is a small village +centring about a large square. It looks unpromising, and one of its most +unpromising buildings proves to be the "hotel,"--a low, dingy, stone +building set in among its mates. At this the breack draws up. The +splendor of the Gassion seems in the impossible past. The expectant +landlady urges us within; her face beams pleasantly; her appearance +promises at least more than does her environment. One by one and very +doubtfully, we enter a dark, narrow doorway; pass along a dark, harrow +hall, walled and floored with stone; catch a passing vista of a kitchen, +a white-jacketed and white-capped cook, and a vast amount of steam and +crackle and splutter near the stove; and going up the curving stairs are +led into a neat little front dining-room overlooking the square. The +carpet is of unpainted pine; so are the table and chairs; but both are +clean, and this fact cheers. With misgivings we ask for a lunch for +seven; without misgivings it is promptly promised, and the beaming +hostess hurries to the depths below. Whether her quest shall bring us +chill or further cheer, we do not seek to guess. + +We canvass the situation and idly look out on the square before us. The +low houses edging it are of stone, faced with a whity-grey, and have a +sleepy, lack-lustre air about them, even under the sun's rays. Women are +grouped around the old marble fountain near the centre,--one drawing +water, several washing and beating white linen. There are barnyard fowls +in plenty, bobbing their preoccupied heads as they search among the +cobbles. In the foreground stands the temporarily dismantled breack, +begirt with awed urchins and venerable Common Councilmen. Behind all +rise the mountains. There is a pleasing effect of unsophisticated +dullness about it all, that seems queerly out of place in a rising +railroad terminus. + +But a bright-faced, rosy little girl bustles in presently and proceeds +to set the table. She has an unconscious air of confidence in the doings +of the chef below,--this fact cheers; and the cloth is indubitably +clean,--this also cheers. We take heart. Napkins and plates appear, +white as the cloth; knives, forks, glasses, rapidly follow, seats are +placed, we gather around, and the old lady herself comes triumphantly +in, with a huge, shapely omelet, silky and hot,--and lo, our three +cheers swell into a tiger! + +Well,--we shall always recall the zest of that lunch. It was perfection. +The cuisine of the Gassion was more refined but not more whole-souled. +The trout vie with the omelet; the mutton outdoes the trout. Course +after course comes up as by magic from that dark kitchen,--_petits +pois_, a toothsome filet, mushrooms, pickled goose, tartlets, cheese, +fruit,--and each a fresh revelation of a Pyrenean chef's capabilities. +Our doubtings vanish with the déjeûner, and we exchange solemn vows +never hereafter to prejudge a Gascon boniface by his inn. + + +II. + +Our road forth from Laruns brings us soon to the base of the blockading +mountain, the _Gourzy_. There it divides, and taking the right-hand +branch, the breack strikes at once into the narrow ascending valley +which leads southeast to Eaux Chaudes. Below, a fussy torrent splashes +impetuously to meet the incomers. The driver has pointed out to me an +older and now disused wagon-way, short and steep, over the hill at the +right; it is tempting for pedestrianizing, and while the breack is +pulled slowly around its foot by a broad, easy road, I climb by it for +some twenty minutes, gain the crest of the ridge, and passing through a +windy, rock-walled cut, come out on the other curve of the valley. Here +the scene has become wholly mountainous. Grass and box cling to all the +slopes; pines and spruces shoot upward wherever they have won footholds. +They are not great peaks that we see yet, nor anything above the snow +level; but the mountains in view, with their faces of rock, their +massive flanks of green, are imposing notwithstanding. Far below, the +breack has just come in sight, its forward route meeting mine some +distance ahead. + +Close at the side of the path stands a tiny roadside oratory. On the +walls of this little shrine, which (or its predecessor) has stood here +for three hundred years, one might formerly read in stilted French the +following astonishing inscription, ignoble witness to human platitude, +as M. Joanne calls it: + + "Arrest thee, passer-by! admire a thing thou seest not, and attend + to hear what it is thou shouldst admire: we are but rocks and yet + we speak. Nature gave us being, but it was the Princess Catherine + gave us tongues. What thou now readest we have seen her read; what + she has said we have listened to; her soul we have upborne. Are we + not blessed, passer-by? having no eyes, we yet have seen her! Yet + blessed thou too, in having seen her not; for we rocks were + lifeless and the sight transformed us into life; but as for thee, + traveler, thy transformation would have been into lifeless rock!" + +As our routes converge, mine descending, the other rising, the valley +narrows to a gorge. In its depths, a hundred and fifty feet or more +below, the torrent is noisily roaring, and at the other side, half way +up, the carriage-road is built out from the almost perpendicular wall of +the Gourzy. We draw nearer, and at length I cross, high above the +stream, by a rude wooden bridge, and rejoin the main road. The slope I +have quitted steepens now into a precipice, and the two sides of this +ravine move closer and closer together, their bare limestone brows a +thousand, two thousand, feet above the road. I vividly recall the Via +Mala in Switzerland, as I lean over the stone parapet and push down a +heavy stone to crash upon the rocks of the torrent far beneath. + +The toiling breack rejoins me, and the road cuts in through the gorge +for some distance farther. Patches of snow are now seen on some of the +summits approaching. Then we round a corner at the left, the valley +opens out, though very slightly, and soon we see ahead the closely set +houses of the Baths of Eaux Chaudes. + + * * * * * + +We pause before a plain, fatherly hotel, and a motherly landlady appears +at once to welcome us. We are won at once by Madame Baudot. Her +benignant face is a benediction. She leads us in through the low, wide +hallway, past the little windowed office at the end, and turning to the +left into a short corridor brings us out to a set of rooms in the new +extension. As we step out upon the tiny balconies at the windows, we +cannot forbear exclaiming at the charm of their situation. We are +directly above the torrent, which chafes along perhaps fifty feet below, +and the balconies jut out over the water. Beyond it are the cliffs, +rising huge before us, wooded high, but bare and bald near the top; up +and down the valley the eye ranges along their fronts. The rooms, simple +but exactingly clean, are dainty with dimity and netted curtains and +spreads. The whole effect is so home-like and restful, the relief of the +contrast so great from plain and city and the rush of trains, that +involuntarily we sigh for a month to spend at Eaux Chaudes. + + +III. + +We find but two streets, terraced one behind the other; quiet, +heavily-built houses, a small shop or two, another hotel, a little +church, and the bathing establishment. The latter, large and +substantial, overlooks the Gave a few steps up the road. We stroll +inquisitively down through the village, lighten a dull little shop with +a trifling investment, strike out upon the hill above for the reward of +a view, descend to the bed of the torrent, and finally drift together +again into the streetside near the hotel. Most of the houses are +_pensions_ or boarding-places during the summer, and while the spot is +much less fashionable and populous than its neighbor, Eaux Bonnes, it is +instinct with a comforting placidity not easily to be attained in larger +resorts. The waters are said to be specifically good for rheumatism. +Both drinking and bathing are prescribed. In former times the simple +rule was, the more the better; Thor himself could scarcely have +outquaffed the sixteenth-century invalids. One of the early French +historians relates his visit "to the Baths of Beam, seven leagues from +Pau." A young German, he says, "although very sober, drank each day +fifty glasses of sulphur water within the hour." He himself was content +with twenty-five, "rather from pleasure than need;" he experienced +"great relief, with a marvelous appetite, sound sleep, and a feeling of +buoyancy in his whole body." + +An experimentally inclined visitor, a few years ago, heard of this +exploit of the "sober young German," and attempted to repeat it. He very +nearly lost his life in consequence. + +The sovereigns at Pau were very fond of the Eaux. Marguerite of +Angoulême loved to come to this stern, peaceful valley, and here found +inspiration for her thoughts and her writings. One of her letters tells +us that in these mountains, apart from the careless court, _"elle a +appris à vivre plus de papier que d'aultres choses,"_ Her daughter, +Queen Jeanne, Henry's mother, found her health here when she was young, +having been "meagre and feeble." She often visited them afterward. Her +visits were costly, too; the expenses of the court were considerable, +but she had to bring an armed guard as well; Spain always stood ready to +kidnap the Queen of Navarre if it had opportunity. Such were the times. + +Later, for almost a century, these springs became neglected and +forgotten; they were then again brought into notice, and now seem to +have gained a permanent popularity. + +As afternoon closes in, we reunite at the hotel, where Madame greets us +graciously. Her visitors will begin to come with the coming week, but we +actually have the house to ourselves. In the tidy parlor blazes a +wood-fire; out of doors, in the dusk, it has grown a trifle chilly. +Attentions are doubled upon us when it is known that we are Americans; +Madame's daughter, who has married the chef and will succeed to the +inheritance, will succeed to the kindly disposition as well, and with a +sunny-faced waiting-woman looks after details of comfort with a personal +interest. Our famous lunch at Laruns was both so ample and so recent +that now we ask only for "tea and toast," and so, while the lamps are +lighted, the trays are brought to us in the parlor, and around the +centre-table and before the fire we nibble _tartines_ in soothed content +and plan to-morrow's excursion. + +Later in the evening we pause at the little office in the hall, behind +whose window sits Madame, busy with her knitting yet watchfully +supervising all the details of the household. She chats with us freely, +speaking slowly in her clear, low-toned French,--that southern French +which sounds the vowels and the final _e_ so lingeringly,--telling us of +the village and its surroundings, of the people, of herself; questioning +us about America, (where, she tells us, lives one of her daughters;) +welcoming us evidently with the greater regard as being of the few she +sees from that active, far-off land. + + +IV. + +The low, steady, insistent rumble and rustle of the torrent below our +windows becomes almost ghostly in the stillness of the midnight. It is +coming from the dark and mysterious forests it so well knows, the same +unchanging water-soul it has been in the days of the Pyrenees past. One +almost ascribes to it the power of audibly retelling its past, as it +intones its way onward below us; infusing our dreams with subtle +imaginings of the spirit of dead times, the pathetic forgottenness of +the mountain lives that have been lived within its sound, the +roysterings of the knights who have hunted along its coursing. + +For into these forests often rode Gaston Phoebus and his fierce men of +Orthez, in pursuit of a fiercer than they, the now disappearing +Pyrenees bear. At no time was superstition more rife than then; savage +souls were imputed to these savage animals; the spectres of the killed +brutes returned to trouble the dreams of the hunter-knights, as the +growl of their familiar torrent penetrates ours. We seem to hear old +Froissart's voice above the sound, believingly telling a legend of the +hunt: + +"'Sir Peter de Béarn has a custom, when asleep in the night-time, to +rise, arm himself, draw his sword, and to begin fighting as if he were +in actual battle. The chamberlains and valets who sleep in his chamber +to watch him, on hearing him rise, go to him and inform him what he is +doing; of all which, he tells them, he is quite ignorant, and that they +lie. Sometimes they leave neither arms nor sword in his chamber, when he +makes such a noise and clatter as if all the devils in hell were there. +They therefore think it best to replace the arms, and sometimes he +forgets them and remains quietly in his bed.' + +"'Holy Mary!' said I to the squire, 'how came the knight to have such +fancies, that he cannot sleep quietly in bed but must rise and skirmish +about the house! This is very strange.' + +"'By my faith,' answered the squire, 'they have frequently asked him, +but he knows nothing about it. The first time it happened was on a night +following a day when he had hunted a wonderfully large bear in the woods +of Béarn. This bear had killed four of his dogs and wounded many more, +so that the others were afraid of him; upon which Sir Peter drew his +sword of Bordeaux steel and advanced on the bear with great rage on +account of the loss of his dogs; he combated him a long time with much +bodily danger, and with difficulty slew him; when he returned to his +castle of Languedudon in Biscay, and had the bear carried with him. +Every one was astonished at the enormous size of the beast and the +courage of the knight who had attacked and slain him. + +"'But when the Countess of Biscay, his wife, saw the bear, she instantly +fainted and was carried to her chamber, where she continued very +disconsolate all that and the following day, and would not say what +ailed her. On the third day she told her husband she should never +recover her health until she had made a pilgrimage to St. James' shrine +at Compostella. "Give me leave therefore to go thither and to carry my +son Peter and my daughter Adrienne with me; I request it of you." Sir +Peter too easily complied; she had packed up all her jewels and plate +unobserved by any one; for she had resolved never to return again. + +"'The lady set out on her pilgrimage, and took that opportunity of +visiting her cousins, the King and Queen of Castile, who entertained her +handsomely. She is still with them, and will never return herself nor +send her children. The same night he had hunted and killed the bear, +this custom of walking in his sleep seized him. It is rumored the lady +was afraid of something unfortunate happening, the moment she saw the +bear, and this caused her fainting; for that her father once hunted this +bear, and during the chace a voice cried out, though he saw nobody: +"Thou huntest me, yet I wish thee no ill; but thou shalt die a miserable +death!" The lady remembered this when she saw the bear, as well as that +her father had been beheaded by Don Pedro without any cause; and she +maintains that something unfortunate will happen to her husband, and +that what passes now is nothing to what will come to pass.'" + + +V. + +White clouds scud away before the breeze, as we climb down toward the +torrent again before breakfast and cross a diminutive foot-bridge to a +path on the other side. The sun is at his post. "All Nature smiles," +here in the mountains as over the plains, and promises lavishly for the +day. The ramble brings a sharpened appetite, and we come back to the +sunny breakfast-room, to find flowers at the plates of mesdames and +mademoiselle, and a family of Pyrenean trout, drawn out within the +half-hour from a trout-well by the stream, in crisp readiness upon the +table. + +We have planned for a view to-day of the great Pic du Midi d'Ossau,--the +mountain seen so sharply from Pau. It is not in sight at Eaux Chaudes; +but it is the giant of this section of the range,--a noon-mark for an +entire province. There is no mountain resort without its pet excursions, +and there are three here which take the lead. One is to Goust, another +to the Grotto; but the foremost is to Gabas and the majestic Pic. + +Our breack comes pompously to the terrace by the hotel, and the hostess +wishes us _"une belle excursion."_ The road takes us on through the +village, and pushes up into the valley with an ascent which is not steep +but which never relaxes. Around us the scene grows increasingly wild and +everywhere picturesque. We cross at some height the Gave, by the stone +_Pont d'Enfer_,--Bridge of Hell, so named,--and keep along the westerly +bank. On one side the ledges are bare, but the opposite slopes are +greener, densely wooded, and ribboned by occasional cascades. Goats and +cattle graze on the upper stretches of herbage; and the shadows of the +clouds chase each other in great islands over the broad flanks of the +mountain. Often, as the horses pause to rest, panting silently with the +work, we climb down from our perches to walk on against the warm breeze, +or clamber up from the roadway to add a prize to the ladies' mountain +bouquets. + +At a noted angle in the trend of the valley, the forked white cone of +the great Pic comes suddenly into sight. The vision lasts but a minute. +A cloud sweeps down upon it, and when it lifts again we have passed the +point of view. + +We anathematize the intruder openly; this is incautious, for our +anathemas provoke reprisals. Other clouds rally around their offended +sister in support, as we push slowly onward, and some of the nearer +mountains are soon enveloped also. The blue sky is forced back, cut off +in all directions; even the pusillanimous sun retires from the conflict; +the heavens have darkened ominously. + +In an hour and a half from Eaux Chaudes, we have come to Gabas, 3600 +feet above the sea. The place consists of two or three houses, and a +dull little inn by a patch of wooded park. It does not attract overmuch, +but to go farther at present is manifestly unwise. Nature's smile has +become a pout, and that is fast developing into a crying-spell. The +guide and ponies sent on from Madame Baudot's must wait. The breack is +tarpaulined and left to the pines in the park, the horses are led off +into the stable, and we disconsolately enter the hotel, to chill the +coming hour with spiritless lemonade and a period of waiting. + +I believe it will always rain on you at Gabas. The few persons we had +hitherto met who had been to Eaux Chaudes enthusiastically praised this +trip toward the Pic du Midi,--"but we could not complete it, ourselves." +they invariably added, "because it came on to shower when we reached +Gabas." We had smiled commiseratingly, confident of being better +favored. Now we find that the clouds, jealous body-guard of this regal +summit, which is "first a trap and then an abiding-place for every +vagrant vapor," can deny him alike to the just and the unjust,--that +they trouble little to make distinctions, even where nationality is +involved. + +[Illustration] + +It is a dull hour. Within, we are in a murky, musty reception-room, and +find no consolation save in ourselves, last week's Pau newspapers, and a +decrepit French guide-book which tells tantalizingly of the magnificent +trip on toward the peak. Without, the rain falls softly and maliciously, +slackening at times in order to taunt us with glimpses of fugitive blue +overhead. We wait and conjecture; plans and anecdotes and a good fire +help wonderfully to hurry the time. The landlord offers but dubious +prophecies; and the window-panes prophesy as dubiously, as we peer out +into the grey mist and the dripping, shivering park. Nature's +resentments are strong, and when she gives battle she fights to a +finish. + +At last, in full caucus assembled, we vote the war a failure and elect +for a retreat. + + +VI. + +The climb we were to take is to a plateau called Bious-Artigues. It is +about three miles beyond Gabas by bridle-path, and its ascent needs an +hour and a half. Here the full face of the Pic du Midi d'Ossau is +squarely commanded. The view is said to challenge that of the Matterhorn +from the Riffel. The plateau itself is nearly five thousand feet above +the sea, and across the ravine before it, this isolated granite obelisk, +with its mitre of snow, lifts itself upward more than five thousand feet +higher,--a precipitous cone, "notched like a pair of gaping jaws, eager +to grasp the heavens." + +This formidable pyramid was first ascended in 1552, and afterward by +Palma Cayet in 1591. It has often been climbed since, and affords a view +over a veritable wilderness of peaks. From Bious-Artigues, without +making the ascent but simply following the sides of the surrounding +basin, one can go on to a second and even a third plateau, adding to the +outlook each time, and may finally work his way entirely around the Pic +and return to Gabas by another direction. At Gabas too one is but seven +miles from the Spanish frontier, and there is a foot-pass that scales +the high barrier between the countries and leads down to the Spanish +baths of Panticosa. A great international highway over this pass has +been in contemplation,--the carriage-road to be continued on from Gabas, +upward over the crest of the range, and so descending to Panticosa and +the plains of Aragon. It is a singular fact that at present, from the +Bay of Biscay to the Mediterranean, there is not one such highway over +any portion of the chain, but solely around the two extremities. The +only midway access from country to country, (except a poor cart-road +from Pau to Jaca,) is by mule-paths, or oftener difficult trails and +passes known chiefly to the blithe contrabandista. + +Mournfully, yet with philosophy, we muse on these withholden glories, as +we drive rapidly homeward. Umbrellas shut off the scenery where the +mists do not, and we are forced to introspection. We resort for comfort +to praising each other for bearing the disappointment so well. We laud +each other's cheerfulness under affliction. After all, + + "Into each life some rain must fall, + Some days must be dark and dreary." + +We solace ourselves with the most fulsome mutual adulation, uncriticised +by the stolid coachman; and as we roll down the long descent back to +Eaux Chaudes, our disappointment wears gradually away; at Hell Bridge, +we have become quite angelic; and we respond to Madame Baudot's +condoling welcome almost with hilarity. + + +VII. + +The last wrinkles of regret are smoothed away by a sumptuous luncheon. +It competes even with that at Laruns, which we have set up as henceforth +the standard, the model, the criterion, the ultimate ideal, of all +luncheons. Of a truth, this chef is proving himself a worthy son-in-law. + +It has set in for a rainy afternoon, and this comforts us surprisingly. +If it had cleared after all, on our return here to Eaux Chaudes, and the +blue had opened into bloom overhead, I do not know what would have been +said of the climate, but we should have held very strong opinions +concerning it. As it is, we can lay the fault on Fate, not on any +misplanning. This is an inestimable relief. We did _our_ part. We went +more than half way. The blame was Fate's, not ours. Fate is the one, +therefore, that merits the abuse. It is a solace to put the blame +squarely where it belongs, and a greater solace still to abuse the +absent. + +But need we spend the rest of the day at Eaux Chaudes? The hotel is cosy +and seems almost a home, but the wet little street has nothing to invite +us. We are not going to Gabas again. On that point we are resolved. The +Pic du Midi has forfeited all claims. Goust we can return to visit. We +call another caucus,--and in an hour, warm farewells have been spoken to +Madame, and we are atop of our breack, on the watery way to Eaux Bonnes. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE GOOD WATERS OF THE ARQUEBUSADE. + + _"Tant que l'on est aux baings, il fault vivre comme ung enfant, + sans nul soucy."_--MARGUERITE OF ANGOULÊME. + + +The road toward Eaux Bonnes retraces its steps from Eaux Chaudes almost +to Laruns, before it swings off into the other southward gorge. The ride +in all is about four miles,--two on each branch of the V. Between the +resorts is also a foot-path over the Gourzy, recommended in fine +weather; it is steep and said to be toilsome, but the view is reputed a +full compensation. + +This whole valley, comprising the main depression running north from +Laruns and the narrower fissures split through to Eaux Chaudes and Eaux +Bonnes, was in Miocene times the bed of a huge glacier. It is known as +the Val d'Ossau,--"the vale where the bears come down." Bears are still +met with, it is said, in the vast forests about the foot of the Midi, +but they are shy and scarce. The _izard,_--the chamois of the +Pyrenees,--is more frequently seen and often hunted. This valley is +individual in Béarn, as Béarn is in France. In past time it was a +distinct principality, small but defiant, and it had its own line of +hereditary viscounts entirely independent of the larger province +enfolding it. The people still cherish some of the old local customs and +costumes, their native dances, and a few other past differentia of the +valley; but railroads and time are great levelers, and the Ossalois is +broadening into the Béarnais, as the Béarnais is broadening into the +Frenchman. + +We speed on in the persistent rain, down between the steep sides of the +Eaux Chaudes ravine and out to the Laruns foot of the great Gourzy +ridge; and having doubled this, turn into the gorge which leads +southerly again to Eaux Bonnes. The incline is now upward once more, and +progress is slower. An entirely new torrent is rushing to greet us. From +what we gain of the scenery, between the showers, the valley, though +narrow, is wider than the one we have left, but its mountains are as +high or higher. There is a fine prospect behind us of the Laruns +amphitheatre. But the drops still patter upon our umbrellas, and we are +glad when our conveyance, after a half hour more, climbs the last hill +and rolls down into the Grande Rue along the little park in Eaux Bonnes, +to stop at the handsome Hotel des Princes. + + +II. + +At the first, we are not sure that we are glad we came. We miss the +cosiness of good Madame Baudot's. But we soon see that Eaux Bonnes has +attractions of its own, though they be very different from the charms of +Eaux Chaudes. It is larger, busier, incomparably more fashionable. The +great entrance-hall of the hotel is hung with wide squares of tapestry, +has columns of marble and a marble flooring, and is invested with an air +of ceremonial which is rather pleasing. The rooms aid to reconcile us; +they are on the first floor, large and finely furnished, and are +directly over the entrance, their balconies overlooking the park. It is +a transition from dimity and sweet pine, but travel, like life, should +be prized sometimes for its transitions. + +On the ground floor we find the parlor opening from the great hall; it +is a long, frescoed apartment, with full Continental array of gilded +mirrors and polished flooring, round, inlaid reading-tables and glossy +mahogany furniture. Our readjusted ideas of Pyrenean hotels are +sustained at their high level. The season has already reached Eaux +Bonnes, and the parlor has a refreshingly animated look with its groups +or units of talkers and readers. Across the main ball is the +dining-hall, equally long and frescoed, and beyond it a satellite +breakfast-room; and when the afternoon has worn away and the hour +announces the gastronomic event of the day, it is a goodly +representation of guests that gathers itself together at the formal +table-d'hôte. + + +III. + +There is no mistaking the character of the next day. It is "settled +fair." Probably Nature feels that she carried affairs a trifle too far +yesterday. Everything is radiant, this morning; the leaves on the trees +glow and are tremulous in this warm southern air. Eaux Bonnes appears to +better advantage than at our rainy arrival. I cross the street to the +diminutive park, which is triangular, its apex northward. It has paths +and seats and leafy Gothic arches, fountains and a music kiosque; while +in and about are promenaders, nurses and children, guides and idlers, +already out of doors for sunbaths or business. The town mainly centres +about this triangle, the houses facing it from across the streets in a +similar triangle proportionately larger. The buildings are tall and +uniformly handsome; other hotels resembling the Princes line the western +side and the base, and opposite are diversified shops and _pensions_ +and still more hotels. Livery-stables are omnipresent, the sign, +_"chevaux et voitures à louer,"_ greeting one at every turn. Along the +sides of the streets flow lively rivulets of water, led in from the +mountain slopes and fresh and clear from their clean, rocky ways. The +spring-house and Casino, a decorated structure, built against the +mountain, stands on a low eminence west of the head of the park, and +from this to our hotel extends a broad foot-way, lined with stalls and +booths, "where bright-colored Spanish wools, trinkets and toys are sold, +where bagatelle and _tir au pistolet,_ roundabouts and peepshows,--all +the 'fun of the fair,' in fact,--is set out for the amusement of idle +Eaux Bonnes." These are sure indications of fashionable prosperity. +Wherever these evanescent summer stalls appear, at Saratoga or St. +Moritz or Eaux Bonnes, they tell of patronage to call them into +being,--an idle, prosperous patronage that spends for gimcracks what the +native would economize from necessaries. + +Behind all, walling the square closely in on almost every side, are the +cliffs; at the east is a lower curtain of rock shutting off the outer +valley; and on the south, almost overhanging us, shoots up the Pic de +Ger. The view of its rocky escarpments and silver peak may fairly be +called stupendous, it is so sharply at variance with the smooth +carpetings of the lower mountains about it. + +I pass down through the park. At its base is a congress of single-seated +donkey-carriages like those at Biarritz. They are officered by +importunate though good-natured boys and women, but I persevere in +unruffled declinations. The street slants up a short hill here and comes +out upon another open place much smaller than the park and likewise +bordered with stores and _pensions_. + +This is Eaux Bonnes, as it is, as it was, as it will be. The place +cannot grow, except into the air. Its area is little over half an acre. +It stands wedged into the Gourzy, on a species of platform in a huge +niche in the mountain, partitioned off from the main valley by the low +ridge of rock behind the houses on the farther side of the park. Save +this attractive little grove in its centre, every inch of ground is +utilized. The torrent, tearing past along the lower bottom of the main +ravine without, has cut away the level on that side; beyond it, the +mountains rise sheerly upward again. And the Gourzy, as just said, hems +us in on the sides remaining. From the rear windows of the Hotel des +Princes you can put out your hand and touch the naked rock. A few +additional houses are perched here and there on convenient projections +or lodged in narrow crannies against the hill; and blasting and cutting +have created space where it was not before; but the limit seems reached, +and what is must be Eaux Bonnes cannot afford to increase in popularity. +Popularity has seriously incommoded her already. Like a full-bodied but +tight-bodiced dowager, she devoutly hopes she will not have to grow any +fatter. + +As I saunter back through the park, I meet a striking individual. It is +one of the local guides arrayed in full regimentals. His startling +colors are designed to attract the wary but inquisitive tourist,--much +as the waving of the hunter's colored scarf is said to attract the wary +but inquisitive gnu. Still it is the true Ossalois dress, and as such +claims inspection. I open a conversation, and find the man to be one of +the four Eaux Bonnes guides having the honor of mention in Murray; +Caillou Martin is his name. A broad, good-humored face, swarthy and +strong, with the eyes dark and small and far apart, and shaded by the +inevitable berret. Caillou's is scarlet, and so is his jacket, thrown +open in flapping lappels and showing a white flannel waistcoat beneath. +He wears knee-breeches of brown corduroy, and thick creamy-white +leggings, coarsely knit and climbing up over ankle and calf nearly to +the knee. He has hemp sandals, and around the waist circles a scarlet +sash, equally inevitable with the berret. + +Caillou grins as I tell him of Murray's encomiums, and wants us to go up +the Pic de Ger. The day is _"magnifique"_, the ascent _"très facile"_ +the view _"ravissante_." And each adjective is set off with a rattling +fusillade of crackings from his great whip. This weapon is a specialty +of all Pyrenean guides and drivers. The handle, short and stout, is of +wood, with a red plush tuft around the centre, and the lash is made of +braided leather thongs, four or five feet in length, finishing in a long +whipcord and a vicious little knot. This instrument will make a crack +like a pistol shot, and under artistic manipulation will signal as far +as Roland could wind his famous horn. It is worn slung over the shoulder +and under the opposite arm, the handle in front linking by a loop with +the lash; and it fitly completes a highly picturesque costume. We +bargain for the whip on the spot, a five-franc piece changes hands, and +Caillou Martin graciously writes his honored autograph on the handle. + +[Illustration] + + +IV. + +Some of us have planned a return to Eaux Chaudes for the day. One of its +characteristic excursions we have not yet taken; the strange village of +Goust is unvisited. This hamlet, situated on a mountain-side near Eaux +Chaudes, is described by M. Moreau as "a species of principality, tiny +but self-governing, similar to certain duchies of the confederation +without their budget and civil list," a box within a box, it would +appear,--a spot independent of its Valley of Ossau, as Ossau was of +Béarn, and Béarn of France. It has lived always in the most utter +aloofness from the world's affairs; it still so lives to-day. It is +noteworthy too for its old people; Henry IV granted to one of them, born +in 1442, a life pension which, it is credibly recorded, was not +extinguished until 1605. + +We have a strong curiosity to visit this unique settlement, solitary, +indifferent to time and its new ways, Nature's "children lost in the +clouds." So I gladden one of the anxious liverymen with an order, and +soon a comfortable carriage is taking us back down the hills toward +Laruns. We can dwell this morning on the view of that village and its +green basin, as we glide down along the side of the valley with the +distant specks of houses always in front. We dwell too with more +comprehension on the heights and depths of the Eaux Chaudes ravine, as +we turn the foot of the V and pull steadily upward and inward again. +There is Madame Baudot at the doorway, hearing the distant wheels, ready +to welcome us with all her heart; there appear her daughter, Madame +Julie, and the rubicund serving-woman; and even the square, white cap of +the chef bobs up and down behind them, within the hall. + +The carriage is moored, the horses are unshipped, wraps and overcoats +speedily unladen and left in bond. The good women promise us the best of +lunches on our return, and we are fairly afoot down the road toward the +Bridge of Hell,--hearts and highway equally paved with good intentions. +The sun is full but not oppressive, a breeze is stirring, and there is a +flood of vitality, a buoyancy and light-heartedness, about these bright +mountain mornings, as one strides on, "breathing the free air of +unpunctuality," which animates to high deeds and heroic resolve. + + * * * * * + +The deed now in prospect is high, but not superlatively heroic. The +hamlet we seek is stowed away upon the mountain-side across the ravine +from Eaux Chaudes, 3000 feet above the sea, and will require a climb of +perhaps three-quarters of an hour. We cross the diabolic +Bridge,--_"facilis_ ascensus," + + "The gates of Hell are open night and day, + Smooth the _ascent_ and easy is the way,"-- + +and shortly strike off from the road and up among the bushes. There is a +well-worn pathway, and it toils easily skyward, doubling back on itself +to rest and unrolling wider and wider vistas of the valley. The Gourzy +across the chasm enlarges its proportions as we rise. Here comes a +peasant or two posting valley-ward, going to his world-centre, the +metropolis of Eaux Chaudes, or perchance even on to the +universe-hub,--Laruns. Birches and beeches mingle everywhere with the +darker, green of the fir-trees; alders and oaks and hazels are abundant; +among all run the heavy growths of box. Tree life is profuse and rich on +these warm lower flanks of the range, while wild flowers and butterflies +tempt one to constant digressions. The path grows steeper. After all, + + "to ascend, to view the cheerful skies + In this the task and mighty labor lies." + +Virgil must have had this very occasion prophetically in mind: + + "To few great Jupiter imparts this grace,--And + those of shining worth and heavenly race! + Betwixt those regions and our upper light, + Deep forests and impenetrable night + Possess the middle space; the infernal bounds + Cocytus with his sable waves surrounds,"-- + +Cocytus being an evident euphemism for the Gave. + +We meet another peasant, this time a woman, who stares and replies that +Goust is very near. Another incline is mounted, we come out upon an +uneven break of pasture-land, and our destination is at hand. + +We are not positive as to this at first. Eight hoary, grey-stone hovels +are before us, a few rods away, and the path passing along the side of a +high stone wall goes on to their doors. We follow it, finding the way +grown muddy and stony, and finally stop inquiringly before the +cellar-like opening of the most prominent "hutch." So this is the +principality of Goust! A woman has been peering at us from over the wall +we have passed by, and now our arrival brings other women to their +respective doors, to stare in the unison of uncertainty. Approaching, I +doff my hat, and politely explain that we are visitors, that we have +come from America to see this settlement, and that any courtesies they +may extend will be considered as official by the nation we represent. +The dumb neutrality of the beldames, at this, is soon dispelled by our +friendly interest, and they gradually come out and group around us in +the mud of the path, with interest no less friendly and even greater. +Their faces are intelligent and shrewd and practical; there is abundance +of wise if narrow lore lined out in those strong, crude features. Their +frames are brawny; they are used to work. They are those who fill, and +fill faithfully, their single niches, living moveless, as the trees; +change, new surroundings, the world, they have not known. Their life has +cut its one deep dent and there it is hidden,--as boulders sink their +way into the glacier-fields. + +But evidently it is we who are the chief curiosity,--not they. The +dresses of the ladies are unobstrusively but openly admired,--gloves and +hat-pins discussed in detail, in an unintelligible patois. I inquire how +many people there are in the village; what they find to do; whether they +are not lonely, so far from the world. They answer my queries in +unconfused French, speaking both this and their patois, and even ask +respectful questions in turn. There are about seventy people who live +here, they say, but most of them are away in the fields during the day; +the women at home weave silk, to be taken to the valley for sale. They +are nearly all related by marriage (alliés) or by blood to each other; +they are governed by a little council of old men; there is no chief, nor +anyone superior to the authority of the council; it regulates the duties +of each. They know of no taxes of any kind to pay; they always marry +within the village, except where the patriarchs may grant a dispensation +with an outsider; yes, they have many old people here, one or two very +old indeed, though none so old as a hundred and sixty-three,--the age of +King Henry's ancient pensioner. + +But the other questions we put are too large or too novel to grasp. They +do not apparently know what I mean by being lonely. The conception has +never occurred to them. Nor do they think they are far from the world. +They go down to the valley beneath, at times, they tell us; and on +feast-days and for the rustic August dances they have even been to +Laruns; the men cross the Gourzy to Eaux Bonnes, and they have all often +heard long descriptions of Cauterets and Pan. + +The interest of our hostesses in their unwonted visitors is manifestly +as great as ours in them, and there is a curious zest in gratifying it. +Yes, we are traveling in France; we have come from America to travel; we +have been to Pau and Eaux Bonnes, and are going on to Cauterets and +through other parts of the Pyrenees,--it was a bold undertaking! They do +not find a reason for it at all. One of them is familiar with America, +she says, for she once knew of some one who went there--to Buenos Ayres. +They are well-intentioned and free and happy, and never think of envy as +they query these cometary strangers. + +The camera focuses their wonder. We show them the reflections on the +ground-glass,--the houses, the waving leaves, each other's faces. It is +incredible! We open the box and explain the structure of the monster. +Finally we boldly ask for a sitting, and after some urging and bashful +demurring, these belles and dames of Goust coyly group themselves by a +felicitous doorway, and--veritable "flies in amber"--are perpetuated for +posterity. + +"Will messieurs and mesdames come within?" A matron speaks. It is what +we have been hoping, and we follow eagerly, escorted by the troupe. +Inside the door it is blackness. We tread an earth-floor, and by sounds +and scents infer that this is the stable. We pass up some dark, +uncertain stairs, and stand in the living-room of the family. It is +long, dark and low-ceiled. The rafters are discolored with smoke, the +board-floor with wear, the walls with strings and festoons of onions and +native herbs. Ears of maize and great sides of beef and pork hang drying +from above. In the dim rear are two pine bed-frames, with spreads of +sackcloth and plaid canopies; nearer are sets of shelves lined with +trenchers and earthen crockery in formal array, while a wood-fire +smoulders on the wide hearth in front between the window-openings, +fortified with a primitive crane and kettle of strange designs and +unrecorded antiquity, and with various pots and pans. Everything seems +clean. Our hostess, pleased at entertaining distinguished and +appreciative visitors, draws out a wooden bench for us, and attempts to +rouse the sleepy flames. + +It is a significant, a typical scene. These peasants of France, with +their honest, unspiritualized faces, are showing their life,--frugal and +voiceless; bounded, but rarely pinched; in dusk, but seldom in dark; and +with all, contentful, industrious, religious, and wishing no ill to any +of mankind. This hamlet and home is an over-accented instance; the +lowland French peasants have more interchange, wider thoughts and +interests, and many of them more prosperous abodes. Yet the scene before +us stands for thousands of meek cabins in solitary places scattered +through France. This exile-life of Goust tells its patient lesson, +touching, and at the same time reassuring; and I am very certain that in +all its limitations it is higher, as it is happier, than that of a +poverty-soured mécontent of the Quartier Belleville in Paris. + +[Illustration: THE BELLES AND DAMES OF GOUST] + +A younger woman of the family is now commissioned to produce their +treasured adornments for inspection. From an obscure adjoining room a +small chest is brought out and placed upon the floor before us, and the +eager girl, kneeling by it, proceeds to display the contents. Carefully +she takes out and unfolds a headdress of bright striped silk, to be +passed admiringly around; and two or three other head-dresses follow, +also of silk or of sharp-colored wools. We ask when these are worn, and +learn that they are chiefly hoarded for gala-days and saints'-days. The +large scarlet capulet comes next, and one of the women dons it to show +the effect. Then appear a scarf and two light shoulder-mufflers, made of +the true Barèges wool, a specialty of the Pyrenees, soft and +fascinatingly downy. These are followed by a few neatly-rolled ribbons, +brought over at different times from Spain, which are duly unstreamed; +some silver pins and a chain, and a rosary; worsted mittens, and a pair +of men's white knee-stockings, similar to Caillou's. But the gem of the +collection, reserved for the climax, is a brocaded silk shawl, a really +handsome article and handled with great reverence. The proud owner +assures us that it is valued at seventy francs and has been handed down +in the household for many years; and her listening neighbors, standing +respectfully behind us, murmur their assent and admiration. + +We not only show but feel a warm interest in every detail, and praise +each article as it is produced. Our new friends are clearly as much +pleased as we; they seldom see strangers, and more seldom any who +sympathize thus with their privations and prides, and this will be a +long-remembered event in their small community. Our hostess is much +gratified when we give her little boy a silver piece,--we can see that +she had no thought of favors; and before we take leave we present her +with a crimson handkerchief of India silk, owned by one of the party, +at which she is fairly overjoyed. That, we tell her, is to go into the +treasure-chest, as a little reminder of her foreign visitors. They press +on us offers of milk and other refreshment, but we are mindful of the +lunch preparing for us in the valley, and inform them why we must +decline. We promise to send our hostess a print of the photograph, and +bid a cordial adieu; and as we descend the stairs and move off down the +path, we are given a half-wistful and most earnest farewell from them +all. + + * * * * * + +Madame Baudot is true to her word. On her table is the most appetizing +of tiffins; and after it we have another talk through the office window. +As she knits, she asks us about our plans, makes suggestions for the +coming ride over the great Route Thermale, and wishes us not only a +prosperous journey but a return in later years to Eaux Chaudes and the +Pic du Midi. For herself and her household, they are here the winter +through, as there may be always a few comers; but it is dull and +bitterly cold; they are often shut away for days from the lower valley, +and she is glad with the coming of summer. + +And so we drive away again from genial Eaux Chaudes, waving, as we turn +the corner, to the warm faces at the doorway, the bouquets they have +given us at parting. + + +V. + +We find Eaux Bonnes at its best as we return. The early afternoon siesta +is over, and every one is out of doors. The sunshine pours over the +little park, filled with fashionable loungers. Uniforms and afternoon +toilettes add their tart hues to the sombrer garb of the male civilian. +The little donkey-carriages or vinaigrettes are in great demand, and one +by one are coming or going with their single occupants, the attendant +Amazon, if desired, running by the side. Saddle-horses are also in +requisition; the sidewalks have an animated air; booths and +gaming-stalls are in-good swing; the springs are being dutifully +patronized; motion, Heraclitus' flux and flow, is the mark of the hour. +The transition seems even greater than yesterday's, from Eaux Chaudes; +and, glad in the charms of the latter, we are glad too to return again +to the world and its harmless vanities. + +After the evening dinner, we explore the street on the other side of the +triangle. We find a narrow cut in the rocks behind the houses, and, +passing through, a few steps bring us out upon the view of the main +ravine, from which this narrow curtain of rock shuts off the town. The +contrast is instantaneous. From the hemmed-in nest of streets we have +suddenly emerged upon the long sweep of the valley below us, finely +commanded by the ledge where we stand. The level plunges off abruptly +down to the Gave, which speeds toward Laruns, "leaping through a wild +vegetation and 'shepherding her bright fountains' down a hundred falls." +A few houses cluster on the hill as it goes down and at its base, but +the torrent is again banked in by the mountain opposite, which climbs +high above our own level. There is a long view up and down the valley, +still and quiet in the gloaming. The night falls almost while we linger, +and at length we turn back through the cut and saunter again across the +park. + +Passing the line of booths, we keep on toward the Casino, which is +elevated some feet above the street in front. Its windows are lighted +up; people are entering the building; a concert is about to commence. +Before following them we pause for a while upon the terrace to turn and +face the Pic de Ger. Erect and regal, its height throws it, alone among +the surrounding mountains, into the full evening after-light; its +precipices and white summit are all aflame still with the red sun, +already lost to the valley. The great peak glows like the sacred pillar +of fire by night, and we cannot but gaze at it long and reverently. + + +VI. + +Sunday is more quietly kept by Eaux Bonnes than might be expected. The +little French chapel has its service, and there is a certain staidness +about the morning which is unlooked-for and refreshing. The shops, +however, are open as always; the vinaigrette-dragowomen as energetic as +commonly; and in the afternoon the band plays in the kiosque as it does +on week-days. In fact, except for this certain staider air, the place +like other Continental resorts does on Sunday very much the things which +it does on other days of the week. + +The springs of course are as regularly sought. Their routine cannot +yield to religious institutes. These waters are chiefly useful in throat +and lung diseases, though the baths are healing for abrasions and +wounds. Both hot and cold waters are here; at one spot, oddly enough, +the two temperatures well up close together. The springs have long been +known, and anciently, as now, they were more popular than those of the +sister valley. One of the kings of Navarre sent hither disabled soldiers +from his wars in Italy; many had been wounded by the arquebus, then a +new weapon, and from the cures effected, the waters were called after +its name. They are seven in number, ardently sulphureous and officiously +odorous. They are not to be dealt with in the spirit of levity of Eaux +Chaudes' "sober young German": fifty glasses are not lightly to be +tossed off. "Caution is necessary," warns Murray, "in using these +waters; bad consequences have arisen from a stranger taking even a +glassful to taste. It is usual to begin with a table-spoonful and a +half!" + +Habit, however, makes even the lion-tamer fearless: these invalids buy +their course tickets, entitling to cure, concert and écarté; and they +bathe and gamble and engulf their deadly draughts with the immunity of +long familiarity. + +A distinctive attraction of Eaux Bonnes is its abundance of promenades. +There are walks of all grades of difficulty. One can mount to a +summer-house or to the summit of the Pic de Ger. If he does not want to +mount at all, he can walk for half a league along a perfect level,--the +Promenade Horizontale. This walk is unique among walks. It was +artificially laid out for precisely such people,--those who do not want +to ascend and descend. It runs back around the bend of the Gourzy +overlooking the Laruns hollow, the carriage-road grooving its way down +far below it. In this region of angles and slants, this marvelous path +moves leisurely forward, plane as a spirit-level, broad and well kept, +shaded with trees, relieved with benches, and affording inspiring views +throughout. Each of the promenades has its view and its cascade and +almost its hour. With so many idlers, it is easily believed that each is +duly popular. And when one tires of promenades or of liveliness or even +of fine weather,--can he not easily drive to Gabas? + +"We are all kept in good order here," observes Blackburn, in his +account of the Pyrenees resorts; "everything is _en règle_ and _au +règle,_ and if we stay a whole season we need not be at a loss how to +get through the days. It is all arranged for us; there is the particular +promenade for the early morning, facing the east; the exact spot to +which you are to walk (and no farther) between the time of taking each +glass of water; the after-breakfast cascade, the noon siesta, the ride +at three, another cascade and more water or a bath at four, promenade at +five, dinner at six, Promenade Horizontale until eight, then the Casino, +balls, 'société,' écarté, or more moonlight walks,--and then decidedly +early to bed." + +Caillou and the liverymen predict a fine to-morrow for the long +carriage-journey we have planned. The breeze is resolutely east, they +say. This fact seems anything but convincing to us, accustomed to the +weather signs of the west Atlantic seaboard. But here, as is quickly +explained, the reversed signs prevail, and it is the _west_ wind that +dampens feathers and the spirits of rheumatics. + +The band on Sunday plays at night as well as in the afternoon, and as +the music, though secular, cannot be excluded, we throw open the windows +and frankly welcome it as we sit in our balconies overlooking the +lighted park in the mild evening air. The band plays well, and people +throng the paths and listen appreciatively. Two overtures, a waltz +movement, the _Melody in F_, a march, and a cornet obligate which is +vigorously applauded, may serve as index of the unpartisan scope of +selection. Music is enjoyed to the full in Europe; many a well-to-do +city fosters its orchestra and has its public music-stand in the square +or in the Volksgarten. In Bordeaux, workmen and mechanics, small +urchins and sailors from the quays, fringed the more aristocratic circle +of chairs, and listened as intently and as seriously as a Thomas +audience at home. It cannot but have a humanizing effect. These +listeners below us,--and so with the rough populace of Bordeaux,--have +become tranquilized, soothed, softened; the buzz of harsh or random talk +dies down; all faces are turned for the time to the common centre, all +thoughts mingle in a common stillness of enjoyment. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +OVER THE HIGHWAY OF THE HOT SPRINGS. + + "Like a silver zone, + Flung about carelessly, it shines afar; + + * * * * * + + "Yet through its fairy course, go where it will, + The torrent stops it not, the rugged rock + Opens and lets it in; and on it runs, + Winning its easy way from clime to clime." + + --ROGERS' _Italy_. + + +It is Monday morning at Eaux Bonnes. The dome of the sky is of unspecked +blue. The departing diligence for Laruns has just rolled away down the +road, and now a landau with four horses, and a victoria with two, stand +before the Hotel des Princes. A formal contract, wisely yet ludicrously +minute in detail, bristling with discomforting provisos for +contingencies, and copied out in the usual painstaking French +handwriting, has been discussed and gravely signed. We are to be +conveyed to Cauterets as the first day's stage, and thereafter to have +the carriages at command, for an agreed price per day, if we wish to +retain them. Thus we can journey on to Luz, Gavarnie, Barèges, Bigorre +and even Luchon. The memorandum is handed us; it provides for delays and +breakdowns, disputes, damages, sickness; it stipulates for return prices +from the place of dismissal. The average price for two such conveyances +in this region, "keep" included but not _pourboire_, will be found to +hold within from seventy-five to ninety francs a day,--thirty-five to +forty-five francs for each carriage; I record it as matter of +information for possible comers. The carriages, the horses and the +drivers are all strong and all well-cushioned, and the drivers are +resplendently tinseled besides. + +We are now to enter oft the _Route Thermale_. This carriage-road is one +of the marvels of modern engineering. The chief resorts in the French +Pyrenees are imbedded each at the head of a north-and-south valley +running up from the plain against the crest of the range. Between them, +the huge mountain ridges, like ribs from a Typhon's spine, stretch down +in irregular parallels from the backbone of the chain. Before this road +was built, these resorts could only be visited successively by a tedious +double journey in and out of each separate valley, or by high foot-paths +over the ridges between. Thus the traveling from one to another had its +serious drawbacks. The railroad came, skirting the plain, though not yet +provided with the offshoots which now run partway up into the valleys; +but even by rail the détours needed would be circuitous and wasting, and +they missed utterly the out-of-door fascinations of true mountain +travel. Something yet was called for. + +The Route Thermale was the result; it is another of the wonders of Louis +Napoleon's régime. It has revolutionized the comforts of Pyrenean summer +travel; the ridges need no longer be skirted, for they can be +luxuriously crossed,--and by one of the best carriage-roads in Europe. +Beginning at Eaux Bonnes, and running in the main parallel with the +central crest, it rears itself serpent-like over four of these great +intervening barriers, attaining and crossing in turn the broad valleys +between them, connecting northward with the stations, southward with +the springs. This immense band, sinuous and unbroken, uplifting itself +to the snow, plunging again from snow to the maize-fields, stretches +along the central Pyrenees a full hundred miles. Four days' journey away +lies its distant end at Luchon. The hostile mountains shower it with +earth and stones. Winter buries it in ice, spring assaults it with +freshets; it is rarely passable before June, and mountain storms even in +summer measure their strength against it. But Napoleon III inspired this +road, and it emerges, quickly rejuvenated, from tempest and torrent, to +laugh unconquered. Of the undertakings of the Bonaparte family, only two +were ever baffled by opposing forces. + +Such an enterprise as this gives a new light, for the stranger, upon the +popularity of the Pyrenees. This costly road-building could only have +arisen from a demand great enough to require and sustain it,--from an +amount of summer traffic, a multitude of summer visitors, commensurate +in part at least with the outlay. Evidently, figments of lonely +settlements and dark paths belong in limbo with those of dismal inns. + +The next great synclinal, adjoining the Valley of Ossau, is the Valley +of Lavedan, and at its head in the mountains lies Cauterets, our next +point of attack. The notch of the road in each intervening ridge is +called a _col_, that which is in the ridge that now bars us from +Cauterets being the Col d'Aubisque. Over the Col d'Aubisque, +accordingly, opposite the Pic de Ger, our way to-day lies. + + +II. + +We abandon Eaux Bonnes, almost reluctantly, to its summer's festivities, +and drive down the broad street and around the end of the park and so +out through the curtain of rock into the road of the main valley. The +slow ascent begins almost at once. We rise gradually along a wooded +hill, stopping once to enjoy a cataract which, like a happy child, is +noisy for its size and entirely lovable nevertheless. A long reach of +valley is then entered, bottomed by the Gave, the road well up on the +side. In an hour or more, we finally turn to cross the valley, and +commence the serious ascent of the opposite side. Facing us now from the +side we have left is the mass of the Ger, very near, very high, and +uncompromisingly precipitous. All the morning this Pic looms stonily +above us; the sunshine brightens its snows but cannot soften the stern +rock-features. Steadily, though with frequent rests, the horses toil +higher, and the Pic seems to rise as we ascend. Often we are walking, by +the side of the carriages. Other peaks are now coming up into view; the +road mounts in long zigzags, shaded plentifully at times and always +astir with a trace of breeze. Our admiration at its skillful +construction increases hourly. Patiently surmounting all obstacles, it +moves surely upward, unvexed by resistance, broad and smooth and firm, +and protected by parapets wherever the paternal solicitude of the +Department could possibly conjecture a need for them. The trees become +scanter as we near the top. Road-makers are at work cutting stones or +repairing here and there; they doff their faded berrets in greeting. +They have frank, hardy faces, marked with belief that life is worth +living: + + "_Les tailleurs de pierre + Sont de bons enfants; + Ils ne mangent guère + Mais ils solvent longtemps_!" + +[Illustration] + +By eleven o'clock the top is gained. We are on the Col d'Aubisque, 5600 +feet above tide-water. The horses pause for a well merited +breathing-spell, and we step to the ground for a survey. Across the +valley towers the Ger, still apparently as high above us as at the +start. Farther to the right, the Gourzy, though still in the near +distance, has dwindled to a moderate hill, and Eaux Bonnes has +throughout been niched from the field of view. To the left, other peaks, +several heretofore unseen, stand silently out; their rocks and snow "of +Arctic and African desolation," as Count Russell has observed of another +scene, "since they are both burnt and frozen." The Pic du Midi d'Ossau, +which should lie to the southwest, is not in sight, being hidden by +intervening heights. + +We turn for a view to the east. Here barren pastures sprawl over the +hills, dotted in places with herds of cattle or flocks of mountain +sheep. But the Valley of Lavedan, which we expected now to overlook, is +not yet in sight. After a long descent before us, there is another +though lower col to surmount before we can point out the villages of the +new valley. + +We seat ourselves by a snowbank, and enjoy the pleasures of rest for a +season. Enter to us, a peasant upon the scene,--a woman, crossing the +col from the Lavedan side. The large bundle magically balanced upon her +head-cloth wavers never a trace as she steps lithely up the last +acclivities and comes upon us. From a stick held over her shoulder +depends another bundle, and over all she is carrying a war-worn and +ludicrous umbrella. The interest is mutual. Promptly I spring up and +pull off my cap in introduction. Her round face, simple and +good-tempered, a comely type of her neighborhood, opens gradually from a +stare into a smile, as the ladies add their greetings. She seems rather +glad of the excuse to rest and lay aside her bundles, and in a few +moments has grown quite communicative. She has come, this morning, she +tells us, from Arrens, a small village on the way down toward the +Lavedan valley and to be our destined halting-place, we recollect, for +luncheon. She is taking to Eaux Bonnes a few woolen goods, stockings and +hoods and shawls, knit by herself and her old mother during the long +winter. They are not for fine people; oh, no, but the guides and the +hotel maids like them. + +"And your husband," we ask,--"what is he?" "A charcoal-burner, monsieur; +he has his pits in the forests of the Balaïtous; it is a hard life." + +"It is hardest in winter, is it not?" + +"It is hard always, monsieur,"--this very simply; "but we have enough, +though not more.--On the left of the road, madame,--our home,--as you +walk out from the inn at Arrens toward the monastery." + +Again the conception of discontent is a stranger; the idea puzzles her; +her life has always been thus; she did not expect anything otherwise. It +is a genuine forest-nature, mute yet never inglorious, reciting +uncomplainingly its lesson of passiveness and endurance. + +Her dress, coarse in texture, well worn but well cared for, appears to +differ little in detail from the costume of the Ossau valley we have now +quitted, but is more strictly, so she tells us, that of the peasantry of +the Lavedan district next to be met with. The pleasant face is framed +in by the ever-favorite hood or head-mantle. This is sometimes, as here, +a kerchief, of conspicuous colors, peculiarly coifed,--the precise twist +varying according to the mode of each locality. Often, as with the women +of Goust, the kerchief is of plain white, tied below the chin, and set +off with a short outside cape, black or colored, over the crown. At +times the cape alone is worn without the kerchief, and on occasion the +larger capulet of red supersedes them both. + +Artfully we lead the conversation into a philosophical discussion, while +the camera is secretly made ready,--when, from the side we have come, +enter also another peasant, an old man this time, quite as good-humored +and quite as characteristic as the first comer. He has dispensed with +jacket or blouse, and displays the loose, baggy-sleeved cotton shirt +often worn in substitution, an outlawed pair of _ouvrier's_ trousers, +and the local berret and _spadrilles._ His features have the true Gascon +cast of shrewdness and tolerance. We formally introduce the two to each +other, and the camera is trained upon the pair. But now the woman, +discovering the plot, evinces that bashful disinclination, common among +women the world over, to pose for immortality when without her best +finery; though the old man, I am pleased to record, does not appear in +the least sensitive about his. Silver, however, is a great persuader; +now it proves a worthy adjutant of its nitrate; the drivers, who are +greatly absorbed in the situation, add their encouragements to the +reluctant one, and finally agreeing and ably supported by her new +acquaintance as leading man, accoutred as she is, she plunges in; +conscious attitudes are unconsciously taken,--as taken they always +are for photography, be it in Paris or the Pyrenees, by all humankind; +and the two wights, humbly and happily serving their separate lives, +valued items in Nature's wide summation, stand forth together in the +dignity of humanity to mark this trifling meeting in permanent +remembrance. + +[Illustration: "ACCOUTRED AS SHE IS, SHE PLUNGES IN."] + +There they talk together on the road, as we finally drive down the hill, +their figures silhouetted against the sky. They have been on the whole +pleased and awakened by their adventure; they will discuss and compare +their emotions, finger their silver, wonder and speculate, and go their +separate ways, convinced anew that the ways of the world and its +worldlings are verily strange and inscrutable. + + +III. + +The noonday heat has now become noticeable, and seems greater on this +easterly shoulder of the ridge. We are grateful for the rapid downhill +trot, which makes two breezes blow where one breeze blew before. Even +that one is less marked on this side of the col, and as we descend, turn +by turn, beyond the limits of snow patches and into the zone of +undergrowth and then of greener vegetation, the air grows perceptibly +oppressive. The view has wholly changed since leaving the crest. The Ger +and its associates have fallen from sight; their valley is gone, and we +face a scene entirely new. We climb again, to surmount the secondary +col; and then commence the final descent. + +It is now that the Route Thermale shows its mettle. This section of the +road was among the most difficult portions encountered by the engineers. +Nature stood off and refused all aid. "Beyond is the valley," she +curtly told them; "between are the ravines; make what you can of them!" + +A hopeless task it seemed. But Nature reckoned without Louis Napoleon. +The road is here, serene and self-sufficient. It literally carved its +way down to the valley. Slopes often greater than forty-five degrees +have been cut into intrepidly; arches and viaducts thrown over gaping +clefts, bridges over unbridgeable chasms. The road turns on itself; it +doubles and twists and dodges; it crawls midway along the ledges, gouges +a path into the hill around a landslide's groove, looks over +uncomfortable brinks with easy unconcern, and in short outplays Nature +at every point. And all the while it continues wide and firm, and we +trot ceaselessly downward with not one pause. The parapets are less +frequent than nearer Eaux Bonnes; often there is but a low line of +heaped-up earth between us and the verge, and sometimes even this is +wanting; but nowhere is the way too narrow for teams to pass, nowhere is +there danger, save from a drunken driver or a thunderbolt. + +We look back from the moving carriages, and the camera is pointed toward +the ledge of road we have just traversed. The picture proves an eloquent +witness to all that can be said of the Route Thermale.[19] + +[19] See Frontispiece. + +Far below and in front, a patch of grey and brown has come into view; +the drivers point out its clustering houses: it is Arrens. Many +kilometres are traversed before that patch grows larger,--more still, +before we have curved and dropped at last down to its level and are +speeding along on a straight line toward the village. We find a ragged +little street, and attract the usual waiting audience of Arcadians, and +drawing up before the door of the inn are glad to escape for a time +from the outside heat and glare. + + +IV. + +The shady patch of garden at the side of the inn is an unqualified +blessing. Roses overhang the paths, and green branches bend over its +plot of grass. We have found the little dining-room dark and rather +stuffy, have thrown open the windows and shutters, have confidently +spoken for an artistic meal, and can now ruminate approvingly upon rest +and refreshment, the sweet restorers of life. How should one tolerate +its zigzaggings without the gentle recurrence of these its aids? + +The kitchen opens invitingly from the hallway, and presently some of us +drift indoors and group around its entrance. There is a hospitable stir +of preparation within; a blazing and clattering that charm both eye and +ear. The landlady and her daughter are busy with a fiery fury. We grow +bolder. We crave permission to enter and watch operations. The old woman +pauses and looks up as she cracks an egg on the edge of a plate, and +then assents, willingly enough, but with unmistakable astonishment. She +is used to predatory raids of visitors but evidently not to this +inquiring spirit. Yet purposeful travel, we might tell her, is +hundred-eyed and has glances for just such matters as this. It seeks out +cities and scenery and history; but it seeks out life no less. We are +gaining impressions which cannot be drawn from books, as we come close +to these homely ways and habits, questioning, appreciating the people we +meet, understanding their capacities and objects and limitations. One +sees the breaking of an egg; he can see, besides, a thousand +accompaniments to the event,--a biography summed up in an act. + +At present, we note the breaking with rather more concern than the +biography. Egg after egg is being deftly chipped, and its lucent content +dropped first upon a plate,--a thrifty half-way station for possible +unsoundness,--and then slid off into a clean-looking oval saucepan. The +pan is then hung from an unfamiliar variety of crane close over the +fire, and the contents wheedled and teased by a skillful spoon and +bribed with salt and butter and a sprinkle of parsley. And even as we +watch, the golden mass melts together; sighs and quivers, and thickens +into wrinkles; bodies itself slowly into form and shape, under crafty +oscillation; and is at last dexterously rolled out, a burnished ingot, +upon the long platter, with a flourish that bespeaks practice and +confidence. The stiff face of the old woman involuntarily relaxes with +honest pride; she looks up half unconsciously for approval, and we all +applaud galore. + +Manifestly, externals vary, fundamentals persist. Barring details of +place and process, the culinary art follows much the same laws and works +out much the same results in this remote Department of the French +Republic as in the Middle States of the American. + +The kitchen itself is roomy and neat; the floor is of large, flat +stones, the square embrasures of the windows are relieved with earthen +pots of flowers. Full panoply of tins and trenchers and other implements +of cheer hang in order against the walls or line the worn wooden +shelves,--many of them strange in shape and of unconjectured use. Over +all, there is that deft, subtle knowledge of place displayed by its busy +inmate, a lifelong wontedness to surroundings, indefinable and +unconscious, which fascinates us, and which reminds us that the same +scene may be to one habituated to it the most iterated of commonplace +and to new-comers often alive with novelty and interest. + +At the window, meanwhile, other tragedies are enacted. The daughter is +not idle. Here is a low, tiled shelf, with three square, sunken hollows, +each lined with tiling and bottomed by an iron grating. Into these have +been thrown small embers from the fire; the draught fans them into a +flame, and above, three flat pans make their toothsome holdings to +sizzle and sputter with infinite zest. This arrangement serves to the +full every purpose of an oven, and does away with the range and all its +cumbrous accompaniments. One is impressed with its obvious but effective +simplicity. + +In very brief time an appetizing déjeûner of seven courses is being +ceremoniously served in the now airy dining-room,--interrupted +throughout, to the good woman's unlessened wonder and our own enjoyment, +by the journeys of some of us across to the kitchen at the end of each +course to watch the preparation of the next. + +The dame thaws out momently under our evident good-will, and as she +brings in the cherries and cakelets, she ventures in turn to stand near +the door, and is even pleased when we renew the conversation. Her +husband, we learn, used to have charge of a little customs-station near +the frontier; now they have this inn; it is pleasanter for him; one +offends so many in a customs-post. They put by something each year; it +is not much; many pause here during the summer, coming from Eaux Bonnes +or Cauterets. Some seasons there are diligences running, which is +better; for without them many go around by the railroad. + +"But you, madame," I ask,--"you have traveled too by the railroad?" + +"Yes, monsieur, a little; we have been several times to Pau; once we +were at Bayonne." + +"And do you prefer the cities?" + +"We like better the mountains, monsieur; one can breathe here, and is +not dependent." + +The charge for the luncheon would be three francs each; she is glad that +her visitors have been pleased; and our extra gratuity is the more +appreciated because it seems wholly unexpected. + + * * * * * + +There is a monastery just out from the town. It is but a short walk, we +are told, so while the horses are brought around, two of us explore. We +follow a shaded avenue, triply garnished at the left with a brook, a +foot-path and a long-row of small cottages; and soon mount a short hill, +pass through an open gateway, and are before the churchly pile. Not a +soul is about the place, and we have to look into the building entirely +unciceroned. An apartment opening wide from the main hall is evidently +some priest's oratory. We venture to peer tentatively in through the +doorway. The room is plain, containing beside other furniture a small +crucifix, a shrine, and a praying-chair,--and nearer us a recent number +of _Figaro_ open on the table. Thus it goes: the secular blending +harmoniously with the spiritual. + +The place is known as _Poey le Houn_ or Hill of the Fountain; its site +commands an extensive view, but otherwise there appears little about it +that is distinctively interesting,--save as it is one of the fortunate +Catholic institutions of the Lavedan spared from Montgomery's Huguenot +raids. The chapel, entered from without by another portal, is sombre +and rather large. We feel lonesome and intrusive without some guide, and +do not examine it very carefully. A few towels are bleaching in the sun, +on the paved court before the chapel,--the only sign of recent human +presence. It is the home of brotherly deeds, and we piously turn the +towels to bleach on the other side. + + +V. + +We start again on the afternoon's drive with renewed zest. The hostess +allows herself the luxury of several friendly smiles as the carriages +move, and we give her farewell and good wishes in return. Umbrellas and +parasols quickly go up to screen from the sun, and we lean restfully +back, in contented anticipation of the remaining half of the day's ride. + +At our right, for a while, at the far end of a valley, we have a +mountain in view, whiter than common with excess of snow. This is the +_Balaïtous_, craggy, irregular and weird, too far off to be imposing, +yet one of the highest of the range. It is not an easily accessible +mountain, nor is it often climbed. There is deemed to be something +uncanny about it. Its ascent is very dangerous, they say. Accidents have +occurred there; a strange ill omen, it is believed, invests those +ghostly snows; the death-clutch of the Balaïtous holds many a brave +mountaineer. As seen from here, it has an indefinably spectral, +repellent look; there seems something almost hideous in its white and +wrinkled cerements. + +The road has now an easy course before it. We are but eight miles from +the town of Argelès, where we shall be on the floor of the Lavedan +valley; and the downward slant is slight. From Argelès, it will be but +ten miles more to Cauterets. The scenery has softened greatly; cliffs +and peaks are out of view, and we have rounded hills and easy, green, +swelling curves and here and there a basking village. + +Argelès is reached sooner than we expected. There is nothing to detain +us here; it is a bright town, tidy and rather attractive, and we see it +and all its inhabitants as we drive through. Here the journey from Eaux +Bonnes to Cauterets over the road we have come, twenty-seven miles in +all, is often broken for the night; many travelers and all the drivers +advise a day and a half for the transit. We had seen that it could be as +readily made within the day, the additional ten miles counting but +little in mid-afternoon; and the horses after their long rest at Arrens +now trot on, fresh and willing as in the morning. + +At Argelès we meet the railroad once more. It is the Lavedan branch; it +has left the main line at Lourdes, and runs southward up the valley, +passing through Argelès and penetrating as far on the road to Cauterets +as the town of Pierrefitte. The arrangement is a counterpart of the +branch from Pau to Laruns. Our road now turns south also, going likewise +to Pierrefitte, and running mainly parallel with the tracks though at +some distance away. One could take the train from Argelès to +Pierrefitte, and there connect with the diligence; but very little would +of course be gained. + + +VI. + +We are now out of Béarn, and have entered the ancient province of +Bigorre. In modern terms, we have passed from the Department of the Low +Pyrenees to that of the High Pyrenees. One watering-place in this +Department,--Bagnères de Bigorre,--which we shall visit in its turn, +still preserves the old name of the province. + +This county was not a principality like Béarn; though it had its own +governors and government, it belonged to France and was held from the +king. Béarn would not have tolerated a like state of dependence. When +our old friend Gaston, Count of Foix, was living, the French king, +grateful to him for previous aid in arms, offered him the control of +Bigorre. The king "sent Sir Roger d'Espaign and a president of the +Parliament of Paris, with fair letters patent engrossed and sealed, of +the king's declaration that he gave him the county of Bigorre during his +life, but that it was necessary he should become liege man and hold it +of the crown of France." But the high-spirited Count of Foix declined. +He was "very thankful to the king for this mark of his affection, and +for the gift of Bigorre, which was unsolicited on his part; but for +anything Sir Roger d'Espaign could say or do, he would never accept it. +He only retained the castle of Mauvoisin [on its extreme confines] +because it was free land and the castle and its dependencies held of +none but God." + +As France and Béarn seldom quarreled, Bigorre should have been a +peaceful neighbor. But its northerly portion was held for a long time by +an English garrison for the Black Prince, and this kept the county in +constant disturbance. The strong post of the English was the town of +Lourdes, (anciently Lourde,) eight miles north of us. "Garrisoned," says +one, "by soldiers of fortune in the English pay, part of whose duty and +all of whose inclination it was to harass the adjoining French +possessions, Lourdes became the wasps' nest of the Pyrenees; whose +fierce occupants were constantly buzzing about the rich hives of the +plains for thirty leagues around, and leaving ugly stings behind." + +"These captains,"--hear Froissart, who traveled through Bigorre on his +way to Béarn,--"made many excursions into Bigorre, the Toulousain, the +Carcassonois and on the Albigeois; for the moment they left Lourde they +were on enemy's ground, which they overran to a great extent, sometimes +thirty leagues from their castle. In their march they touched nothing, +but on their return all things were seized, and sometimes they brought +with them so many prisoners and such quantities of cattle, they knew not +how to dispose of nor lodge them." Thus, "these companions in Lourde had +the satisfaction of overrunning the whole country wherever they pleased. +Tarbes, which is situated hard by, was kept in great fear and was +obliged to enter into a composition with them. On the other side of the +river Lisse is a goodly enclosed town called Bagnères,[20] the +inhabitants of which had a hard time of it. In short, they laid under +contribution the whole country,--except the territory of the Count de +Foix; but there they dared not take a fowl without paying for it, nor +hurt any man belonging to the count or even any who had his passport; +for it would have enraged him so much that they must have been ruined." + +[20] Now the frequented watering-place, Bagnères de Bigorre. + + +The count showed less respect for Lourde than Lourde for him; and he +even aided the French on one occasion by a scheme to capture the place +and oust the intruders. This--it is a cruel story--was when he summoned +its governor, his own half-brother, Sir Pierre Arnaut, to Orthez, under +pretense of desiring a visit. Sir Pierre was holding Lourde stoutly in +fief for the English prince, and was in considerable doubt about going, +for he knew his man and had suspicions; however, "all thynges consydred, +he sayd he wolde go, bycause in no wyse he wolde displease the erle." He +left the castle with his brother Jean under strict injunctions, and +proceeded to Orthez, where he was handsomely received by the count, "who +with great ioye receyued hym, and made hym syt at his borde, and shewed +hym as great semblant of love as he coude." + +For the sequel, let us go back for once to an earlier translation[21] of +the Chronicles than the one best known. The cruel story gains in effect +of cruelty from the quaint, childlike telling. + +[21] The translation made in 1523 by John Bourchier, Lord Berners, at +the request of Henry VIII. The one I have elsewhere quoted from is that +of Thomas Johnes. + + +"The thirde daye after, the Erle (Count) of Foiz sayd aloude, yt euery +man might here hym: + +"'Cosyn Pierre, I sende for you and ye be come; wherefore I comaunde +you, as ye wyll eschewe my displeasure, and by the faith and lignage +that ye owe to me, that ye yelde vp the garyson of Lourde into my +handes.' + +"Whan the knyght herde these wordes, he was sore abasshed, and studyed a +lytell, remembringe what aunswere he might make, for he sawe well the +erle spake in good faithe; howebeit, all thynges consydred, he sayd: + +"'Sir, true it is, I owne to you faythe and homage, for I am a poore +knyght of your blode and of your countrey; but as for the castell of +Lourde, I wyll nat delyuer it to you; ye have sent for me to do with me +as ye lyst; I holde it of the Kyng of Englande; he sette me there; and +to none other lyueng wyll I delyuer it.' + +"When the Erie of Foiz herde that answere, his blode chafed for yre, +and sayd, drawyng out his daggar: + +"'A treator! sayest thou nay? By my heed, thou hast nat sayd that for +nought,'--and so therwith strake the knight that he wounded hym in fyue +(five) places, and there was no knyght nor barone yt durst steppe +bytwene them. + +"Than the knyght sayd: + +"'Ah, sir, ye do me no gentylnesse to sende for me and slee me!' + +"And yet, for all the strokes that he had with the daggar, therle (the +earl) comauded to cast him in prison, downe into a depe dyke; and so he +was, and ther dyed, for his woundes were but yuell (ill) loked vnto." + + * * * * * + +It is a satisfaction to record that Gaston gained nothing by his +dastardly act. Pierre's brother, Sir Jean, stood to his post in Lourde +as stoutly as Pierre had done; and the count did not obtain the +fortress. In fact he does not seem even to have pursued his attempt upon +it farther. He doubtless thought he had done enough to clinch Lourde's +respect for his pugnacity. + +It was in return for this well-meant assistance that the French king +offered Gaston the whole of Bigorre, Lourde and all, which he so +politely declined. He was shrewd as well as high-spirited; he was not +covetous for the garden if the wasps' nest remained undemolished. So Sir +Jean and his robber band buzzed merrily on in their castle. + +Our chronicler naturally asks his informant: + +"'Dyde this Jean neuer after go to se the Erie of Foiz?' + +"He answered and sayd: 'Sithe the dethe of his brother, he neuer came +there; but other of his company hath been often with the erle,--as +Peter Danchyn, Ernalton of Restue, Ernalton of Saynt Colome, and other.' + +"'Sir,' quod I, 'hath the Erie of Foiz made any amendes for the dethe of +that knight or sorie for his dethe?' + +"'Yes, truely, sir,' quod he, 'he was right sorie for his dethe; but as +for amendes, I knowe of none, without it be by secrete penauce, masses +or prayers; he hathe with hym the same knighte's sonne, called Johan of +Byerne, a gracyous squyer, and the erle loueth hym right well.'" + + +VII. + +Lourdes itself can be shortly reached by rail, here from Argelès, or +from Pau. It would undoubtedly deserve the visit. Besides its robber +reminiscences, it has developed another and contrasting specialty: it +has become one of the most famous places of religious pilgrimage in +Europe. Thirty years ago it was made the scene of a noted "miracle." At +a grotto near the town, the Virgin appeared several times in person to +an ardent peasant-girl; caused a healing spring to burst from the rock, +and stipulated for a church. The girl published the miracle; its repute +instantly spread far and wide, and the bishop of Tarbes, after +examination, publicly declared it authentic.[22] Since that time, +devotees throng the town annually; Murray states that one hundred and +fifty thousand persons visited the scene in the six months following the +apparition. The character of the place has been transformed; a tide of +enthusiastic pilgrimage has swept over it like a whirlwind; everything +in and about the city has taken the garb of this religious fervor. The +grotto is lined with crutches cast away by the cured; the church is +built, and is rich with votive offerings; every house lodges the +shifting comers, a thousand booths sell souvenirs of piety; and,--last +impressive mingling of mercantile and miraculous,--the waters are +regularly bottled and shipped for sale to all parts of the world! + +[22] "_Nous jugeons que l'immaculée Marie, mère de Dieu, a réellement +apparu à Bernadette Soubirous, le 11 Février, 1838, et jours suivants, +au nombre de dix-huit fois, dans la grotte de Massabielle, près la ville +de Lourdes; que cette apparition revêt tous les caractères de la vérité +et que les fidèles sont fondés à la croire certaine_." + + +The castle still stands, on a pointed hill above the town. Its founding +goes back far beyond the days of its thieving English garrison; the +Saracens once swarmed into it long before, flying before Charles the +Hammer; and there is another story about it in this connection, as +related by Inglis, which ends more happily than that of its murdered +governor. Charlemagne, some years after the Saracens captured it, laid +siege to recover it; surrender grew inevitable; but its Moorish +commander, Mirat, though an infidel, was, for his nobility of character, +in special favor with the Virgin,--Notre Dame de Puy.[23] In this +extremity, she sent to him an eagle bearing in its beak a live fish; and +Mirat promptly sent it to Charlemagne, to show his heavenly succor. The +king, knowing that there was no possible fishing on the castle hill, +perceived that it was a miracle; and lessening his rigor in the face of +this sign, proposed less hard terms: the Moors were allowed to depart in +safety, Mirat on his part agreed to be converted and become a good +Catholic, and the castle was formally surrendered not to Charlemagne but +to Notre Dame de Puy. + +[23] Puy--St. Pé--is a shrine near Lourdes. + + +VIII. + +But meanwhile we are moving toward Cauterets, not toward Lourdes. This +part of the Lavedan valley is known as the "Eden of Argelès." It expands +about us in long, delicious levels; occasional eminences wrinkle its +even lines; and the hills roll up from each side, rounded and gentle and +often cultivated to their tops. Squares of yellow maize-fields chequer +them, alternating with darker patches of pasture or orchard, while along +the wide centre run the rails and the high-road, and the new Gave, fresh +from Gavarnie and the Lac de Gaube,--new, yet an old friend, for it +flows forth by way of Lourdes on to the Château of Pau. Walnut, lime and +fig trees, twisted with vines, stand near its borders or about the +chalets and hamlets on the slopes. Women and men are at work over in the +fields, and often pause to look at our distant carriages and bow a +response to our wavings of greeting; while on the road itself, here much +traveled, we meet teams and ox-carts and a carriage or two with +travelers coming from Cauterets. + +Up on a bluff at the right is an old building: it is the abbey of Saint +Savin, some of whose stones also could tell us of Charlemagne and +perhaps of young Crassus. Farther on, we see, on an opposite slope +across the valley, other ruins: a castle; an old tower; and higher still +an ancient chapel of the Virgin, cared for to this day, it is said, as +in the time of earlier travelers, by the trio of aged women voluntarily +pledged to its guardianship and to solitude. Their number remains always +the same; upon the death of one, the remaining two make choice of a +third to fill her place. It has been thus from unknown periods. Thither +repair the women of the valley, on days consecrated to the Virgin, to +pay their devotions at this lonely shrine. + +Thus together, peace and war, holiness and crime, have dominated this +fair region; and with these shivered fortalices and ancient cloisters +actually before us, their past seems nearer to possibility. Their +relics, attesting the days of feudalism, seem to mourn its departure; +the old order has indeed changed and yielded place to new. "It was sweet +here to be a monk!" writes Taine, in his warm sympathy with the spirit +of this valley; "it is in such places that the _Imitation_ should be +read; in such places was it written. For a sensitive and noble nature, a +convent was then the sole refuge; all around wounded and repelled it. + +"Around, what a horrible world! Brigand lords who plunder travelers and +butcher each other; artisans and soldiers who stuff themselves with meat +and yoke themselves together like brutes; peasants whose huts they +burn,... who out of despair and hunger slip away to tumult. No +remembrance of good, nor hope of better. How sweet it is to renounce +action, company, speech, to hide one's self, forget outside things, and +to listen in security and solitude to the divine voices that, like +collected springs, murmur peacefully in the depths of the heart!" + +Farther on still, on another eyrie, is a ruined monastery, St. Orens. +This saint came to the Pyrenees from Spain at an early age, and founded +this retreat, loving solitude and meditation and austere living. His +piety made him widely revered. He long refused the offered archbishopric +of Auch; till, doubting his duty in this, he prayed to God for a sign. +He was directed to plant a sapling in the earth, and it instantly +bloomed into leaves and blossoms; whereupon the hermit wisely inferred +that life was designed to bear fruit, not to wither itself away. + +Montgomery, Queen Jeanne's ruffian Protestant general, tore through this +Catholic valley in 1569, with his devastating mercenaries. It recovered +heart, flowered afresh, and was swept again by enemies from a +neighboring province. Often a winter storm will expose bedrock +throughout precious roods of sloping harvest-land, and the farmer must +carry up from the valley many painful baskets of soil to replace the +loss. So that, though it smiles so happily in this afternoon warmth, +there have been serpents in this Eden,--serpents of want and of +suffering; and judging by the faces of the people, all have not yet been +scotched. + +But we are at Pierrefitte. It is five o'clock in the afternoon, and the +innkeeper is rejoiced to find that we are thirsty. + + +IX. + +Pierrefitte ends the branch railway from Lourdes, as Laruns ended that +from Pau. In fact, it is all strikingly like Laruns. A similarly +uncompromising mountain, the _Viscos_, 7000 feet high, walls up the +valley behind it, and here again the carriage-roads divide, one going up +the gorge on the right to Cauterets, the other up that on the left to +Luz and Gavarnie. The broad Argelès vale has been fittingly described as +but the vestibule to the wild dwelling of the clouds, and Pierrefitte as +the beginning-point for the narrow stair-flights which lead up to the +interior. + +As at Laruns, we are now to take the road to the right, at a later day +returning to take the other. The Route Thermale goes on up the latter, +passing through southeast to Luz, and then stretching eastward again to +Barèges and over successive cols to Bigorre and Luchon. This we are +progressively to follow in its entirety. + +The train has come in, here at Pierrefitte, and the diligence for +Cauterets is just leaving, attended by a wagonload of trunks. Horses and +travelers refreshed, we soon move after it, and rising from the valley +by half an hour's steep zigzags upward and forward, we pass the great +yellow vehicle as it is entering the defile. Looking back, we have one +brilliant view of the wide Eden of Argelès, and pass from light into +twilight. + +The road to Cauterets is a duplicate of that to Eaux Chaudes. Possibly +the scenery is a trifle more impressive. We have the straight-cliffed +gorge, with the torrent at its bottom and the road buttressed out or cut +into the ledge; the turns in the ravine as we pull steadily higher, the +bare slate and limestone precipices, the higher peaks. At times there is +only width for the road and the torrent beneath, and the torrent seems +uncomfortably crowded at that. The road does not allow itself to be +crowded. It is hard and wide as always, and lavishly decorated with +kilometre-stones. The stream is crossed, back and forth; the air has +grown quickly cooler, and sunshades need no longer shut off the full +view. "Upon nearing Cauterets, the carriage-way would seem as though it +had grown phrensied from the mountainous opposition, for it curls and +writhes and overcomes the difficulties only by the most desperate +exertions; and at one spot, in its effort to compass a barrier of rock, +it actually recoils within half-a-dozen yards of its former path." +Throughout, however, the same easy, imperturbable gradient is preserved. +The old road was greatly rougher and steeper; four horses and three +pairs of oxen, it is said, were once required to drag up each carriage. + +Finally the valley widens slightly, and rather suddenly opens out upon +an incline. At its farther end is a white-crested mountain, and below +nestles the mountain resort of Cauterets, six miles in from Pierrefitte. + + * * * * * + +It is seven o'clock, as our wheels strike the stones of the pavement. We +drive into the main street, pass through a neat, irregular little plaza, +and, some distance beyond, turn to the right from a larger square, +toward the Hotel Continental. The town is waiting for the diligence, and +shopkeepers are at their doors, guides and touters and loungers and +visitors in the streets, all expectant for the daily gust of arrival. +The lamps are just twinkling out, against the dusk, and the general +impression,--often a long determinant of like or dislike,--is of an +animated and welcoming scene. The hotel proves to be nearly on the scale +of the Gassion, and other equally pretentious ones have been passed in +approaching it. We drive under the high entrance-way and into its great +court, with the flourishes dear to the drivers' hearts; and the long and +varying tableau of the day's ride is over. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MIRRORS AND MOUNTAINS. + + "All along the valley, stream that flashest white, + Deepening thy voice with the deepening of the night." + +--TENNYSON'S _Cauterets_. + + +Cauterets confirms its first good impressions. The next day proves +cloudy and foggy, and we spend it lazily, re-reading and answering +letters, or wandering about the town, absorbing its streets and shops. +The season is fairly afloat, and all sail is set. At the angle of two +thoroughfares, a stretch of ground has been brushed together for a park +or promenade, and this, sprinkled with low, flat-topped trees and a +band-stand, naturally attracts us first. Booths and cafés and nicknack +stalls reach around its sides, and across from us stands a fine +official-looking structure of marble, which we learn is the Thermal +Establishment. We stroll toward this, through the groups of promenaders, +run the gauntlet of the booths, inspecting hopelessly their catchpenny +wares and games, and find ourselves before it. It is well placed, and +architecturally effective. To judge from the goodly patronage, it is +pathologically effective as well. Within, the large, tiled hall conducts +right and left to wings containing rows of white-tiled bath-apartments +and two full-sized swimming-rooms. An imposing marble stairway leads +upward to reading, billiard and gaming apartments, café and restaurant +and a theatre-hall. Evidently the Thermal Establishment is the pivot +of Cauterets. The serious use of these waters is carried to a science. +You can be steamed, suffused, sprayed, sponged, showered, submerged or +soaked. You can seek health from a teaspoon or a tub. Make choice, and +buy a season ticket. Rather, the attendant physicians make the choice, +for all is by rule here and no one moistens lip or finger without due +prescription. + +[Illustration: "THE TOWN IS WAITING FOR THE DILIGENCE."] + +These springs are celebrated among French doctors. The systems of +treatment are kept abreast of all modern theories. The waters are +sulphureous, very hot, and abundant. They serve in throat and stomach +troubles and for a wide range of ailments "where there is indicated a +powerfully alterative and stimulating treatment." + +We ramble back across the esplanade and out into the streets. The +stores, always friendly in their hostile designs, conspire to be +especially attractive in Cauterets. We waste much time--from a masculine +standpoint--in an enticing lace store, where really fine Spanish +nettings are purchased at tempting prices. They sell too, in Cauterets, +the woolly stuffs called Barèges crape, marvelously delicate in texture, +woven in various tints for mufflers and capes and shoulder-wraps. +Farther up the street, we are allured during the forenoon into buying a +woollen berret or two, and scarlet sashes, the badge of the country, for +to-morrow's mountain excursion; and yield in the plaza to the +fascination of barley-sugar candy and toothsome cakes of Spanish +chocolate. But all entreaties to buy young Pyrenean dogs warranted bred +in the region, are manfully resisted. + +We invest too in a strange variety of umbrella, which can be folded into +wondrously small compass and put into the pocket or the +traveling-bag,--invest in it after a long struggle of rates, wherein +each side gains the satisfaction of victory by a compromise. The +eagerness of the Frenchy vendor,--his dramatic acting-out of the +umbrella's workings,--his voluble deprecation of a possible lower price, +and his gradual sliding down from his end of the scale as we rise in it +from ours,--these accessories fully double the zest of the transaction +for both. One must be wary and alert to properly enjoy European +shopping; but if one is thus prepared, it can be made to furnish very +solid enjoyment indeed. "As a rule," as the genial author of _Sketches +in the South of France_ observes, "the British purchaser must offer one +half the price asked. Everybody does it, and it is in no way offensive, +because the sum has been pre-arranged accordingly. The British costume +springs the market at least ten per cent, bad French ten more, and an +apparent ignorance of both market and language cannot be let off at less +than thirty or forty. Expostulation is useless, even when convenient; +the torrent of '_impossible_', '_incroyable_,' '_que c'est gentil_,' +'_ravissant_,' '_beau_' would drown any opposition. The only chance is +to be deaf to argument, dumb to solicitations, to place the sum proposed +before the merchant, and if it be not accepted, retire in dignified +silence. Ten to one you will be followed and a fresh assault commenced; +be resolute, and the same odds you get your bargain." + +Variety marks the stores not only, but the streets and saunterers. All +these Pyrenean resorts put on the motley. There is of course the +substratum of plainly-garbed humanity; but as at Eaux Bonnes, it is set +off with scarlet-coated guides, Spaniards in deep-colored mantles, +peasant women with red capulets or bright-hued shoulder-wear, and the +satin finish of fashion in its passing carriages. Hucksters are pleading +their varied wares in the plaza, and here and there a shovel-hatted +priest is given reverential right of way. We meet scarcely an English +face, however, and of our own travel-loving countrymen none at all. At +noon the band plays in the music pavilion, and by degrees the idle world +drifts in that direction. The round café-tables under the trees +gradually sort out their little coteries, and white-aproned gentry skate +about with liqueur-bottles, clinking glass beer-mugs, baskets of rolls, +and the inevitable long-handled tin coffee-pots. The outdoor scene +tempts us more than a hotel luncheon; we cast in our lot with an +alert-eyed waiter, and the syrups and chocolate he brings are doubly +sweetened with the strains of _Martha_. + + +II. + +Here is an old letter concerning these waters, which brings the dead +back in flesh and blood. It leaves its writer before us in vivid +presence, a womanly reality. It is Marguerite of Angoulême[24] who +writes it,--the thoughtful, high-souled queen of Béarn-Navarre, whose +daughter was afterward mother of Henry IV. She is at Pau, and is sending +word about her husband's health to her brother, Francis I of France. + +[24] Marguerite of Angoulême is often, even by historians, designated as +Marguerite of Valois. It is better to preserve the distinction in the +names. Marguerite of Angoulême was the wife of Henry II of Navarre; the +name Marguerite of Valois more properly designates the wife (known also +as Margot) of Henry IV, their grandson. + + +"Though this mild spring air," she tells him, "ought to benefit the King +of Navarre, he still feels the effects of the fall he met with. The +doctors have ordered him to spend the month of May at the Baths of +Caulderets, where wonderful things are happening every day. + +"I am thinking of going with him," she adds,--how domestic and personal +these little royal plannings seem,--"after the quiet of Lent, so as to +keep him amused and look after him and help him with his affairs; for +when one is away for his health at the baths, he ought to live like a +child, without a care."[25] + +[25] "_Encores que l'air chault de ce pays devoit ayder au roy de +Navarre, il ne laisse pas de se ressentir de la cheute qu'il prist; par +le conseil des médecins à ce moys de may s'en va mettre aux Baings de +Caulderets, où il se foit tous les jours des choses merveilleuses. Je me +deslibère, après m'estre repousée ce caresme, d'aller avecques luy, pour +le garder d'ennuy et foire pour luy ses affaires; car tant que l'on est +aux baings, il fault vivre comme ung enfant, sans nul soucy_." + + +Hither they came accordingly, and the court with them. How royalty put +up with the then primitive accommodations is not recorded; standards of +comfort, if not of lavishness, were lower then. Here, surrounded by her +maids of honor, Marguerite passed the pleasant days of the king's +convalescence and wrote many of her _Contes_ in the long summer +afternoons upon the hillsides. + +Rabelais used to come to Cauterets, and one of the springs is said to be +named from a visit of Caesar's. Eaux Chaudes and Eaux Bonnes have had +eclipses of popularity, but Cauterets has always been in vogue. It was +not always luxurious, however. Invalids were brought here by rough +litters or on the backs of guides or horses. A monk and a physician +lived near the bath-enclosure, and narrow cabins or huts, roofed with +slate, were let out to the sick and their attendants. How greatly the +dignified Marguerite and her war-bred husband would marvel, if they +could walk with us to-day from the Thermal Establishment, across the +park and through the streets and squares,--to pause from their +astonishment in the polished and gilt-mirrored drawing-room of the Hotel +Continental! + + +III. + +There are walks and promenades and mountain nooks in all directions from +the town, but the afternoon grows misty and we do not explore them. The +Gave running noisily on, hard by, has its stiller moments, up the +valley, and the trout-fishing is reputed rather remarkable. In fact, one +ardent angler who came here is said to have complained of two drawbacks: +first, that the fish were so provokingly numerous as to ensure a nibble +at every cast; and second, that they were so simple-minded and +untactical that every nibble proved a take. + +Besides affording these milder joys, Cauterets is a centre for larger +excursions. There are three especially noted. The first and finest is +the trip to the _Lac de Gaube_, a high mountain tarn at the very foot of +the Vignemale. This we plan in prospect for to-morrow. It is four hours +away by a bridle-path, passing on the way several much-admired mountain +cataracts. The second excursion is by the foot-pass over a shoulder of +the Viscos to Luz, a counterpart of the path over the Gourzy from Eaux +Chaudes to Eaux Bonnes. As we purpose going to Luz by carriage, passing +down to Pierrefitte and so up the other side of the V, we strike the +Viscos from the list of necessaries. The third is the ascent of the +Monné, the mountain overhanging Cauterets and 9000 feet above the sea; +reported as long but not difficult and as giving a repaying view. But +there is a mountain near Luz, the _Bergonz_, from which the view is +held equally fine, and it is, we learn, simpler of ascent; there is even +a bridle-path to the summit. Since we are to go to Luz, we decide for +the Bergonz, and so cancel the Monné. + +Cauterets might be likened to St. Moritz in the Engadine. It has no +lakes so close at hand, but in its springs and baths, in its fashion and +in its general location, a fair parallel is offered. Some of the +important peaks of the range, Mont Perdu and the Vignemale, for example, +are near us here though invisible from the town, as is the Bernina chain +from St. Moritz. The Monné will stand for the Piz Languard. In hotels, +Cauterets is hardly outgeneraled even by St. Moritz, though in +expensiveness they will yield gracefully to the Engadine. The Hotel +Continental, we find, has rather a pathetic story. It was built by a +widow who had been left rich,--built only a few years ago, as a hobby, +it would seem, and with little care for cost or judicious investment. It +represented nearly three hundred thousand dollars, was extravagantly +run, and lost money from the beginning. She also built a great café and +music-hall across the street from the hotel, and the losses of the two +together swelled in the end to an unbearable burden. Her fortune was +sponged up, to the last franc; the property was bought in by a +stock-company, and its unfortunate projector is now, we are told, in a +charitable institution at Bordeaux. One hardly wonders at the result, in +admiring the hotel. Its patronage may be large and rich, but no mere +summer season,--at least without the English and Americans,--could +recoup the interest on its costly outlay. The Gassion at Pau is +profitable if at all because its yearly season is three times longer +than this at Cauterets. + +There is an evening conjuring performance at a café in the town, and +some of us desert the ladies and enter its chaos of mirrors and tobacco +smoke. The prestidigitator, a nervous, restive Frenchman with an +astonishing rapidity of tongue, stands near the centre of the room and +juggles and struggles with hats and rings and eggs and his own +overmastering fluency. Now he will dart across the floor to borrow a +listener's handkerchief; now he assaults our corner with the plea that +we verify a card; later the hat is passed for the harvest. It is an +interesting scene, European to the core; the men about the tables sip +and smoke, intent on the performance or on their dominoes, grave and +contemplative, finding uniformly in this contented café-life the needful +finis of the day. + +[Illustration] + + +IV. + +The son renews his acquaintance, the next morning, with Cauterets, as we +start for the Lac de Gaube. It is the Fourth of July; the hotel manager +has good-naturedly procured some fire-crackers for the small boy of the +party, and thus our national devotions are duly paid and we are shrived +for the day. Carriages can be taken for part of the way toward the Lac; +it is good policy, so saddle-horses for the ladies are sent on to wait +for us at the point where the road ends and the bridal-path begins. + +The first mile in the road is perhaps the most frequented bit in the +Pyrenees; it is the route to a second large spring-house known as the +_Raillère_, which is even more sought than the one in the town. We find +the wayside everything but dull. Omnibuses meet us frequently, wealthier +drinkers pass in light carriages, while many, going or coming, are +enjoying the journey on foot. Each is armed with his or her individual +drinking-cup, worn by a strap over the shoulder like field-glasses. The +road is somewhat shadeless, and at noon will be hot; but this is an +early-morning route. These are sunrise waters. Such is the dictum or the +wont. The faithful even work up a mild daily rivalry in early waking. +This may aid to make them healthy; improbably, wealthy; but it does not +show them to be wise. Time is always quoted under par at a summer +resort; why should the idlers heedlessly load up with too much of the +stock? These people have come out here, many of them, at six and seven +o'clock, a few even earlier; they have sipped their modicum of sulphur +and scandal, have prolonged the event as fully as possible, and must now +ripple irregularly back toward the town, objectless entirely until the +noon music and the atoning siesta. + +The building itself, a large, prominent structure, stands out on the +slope of a sterile mountain side, the road sweeping up to its level in a +long, elliptic curve. We find much people here congregated, and +omnibuses and footfarers are still arriving and departing. Among the +throng are three veritable Capuchin monks, thickly weighted with +enfolding hoods and brown woolen gowns, the latter heavy and long and +girdled at the waist,--a light, airy costume for a warm day. Our drivers +stop here while one of them repairs a broken strap, and we contentedly +watch and speculate upon the assemblage. + +Three other smaller spring-establishments are passed in turn, farther +up the valley. Each has its specialty and its limited but believing +clientèle. Then the road becomes solitary, and ephemeral humanity is +left behind. Soon the slow, even strain of the horses tells of stiffer +work than along the easy, inclines nearer the Raillère. The Gave comes +jumping downward more and more hurriedly, and presently its restless +mutterings deepen into a dull growl, which grows louder. It rises by +degrees to a roar, the road makes a last energetic bend,--and we are +looking down upon the famed _Cerizet_ cascade. It is a broad rush of the +stream, thundering beneath the bridge; there is an unexpected body to +the fall; the massed water bounds down a double ledge, and swirls +angrily away down the gorge. The scene is strikingly set, with slippery +rocks and dark-green box bordering the torrent, and the cliffs rising +sharply around, naked and bony or furred with box and pine. This is the +favorite short drive from Cauterets. Pedestrians seek it, as well. The +Cerizet holds the charm of its wildness alike for the idler and the +lover of nature. + +Here the road ends, in a confined level across the bridge. At the bend +above stand a rough shanty and a shed, and near by our waiting +saddle-horses are unobtrusively browsing. Drivers and carriages now +leave us and turn back, and the guide helps us to roll wraps and coats +into cylinder-form and straps them snugly behind the saddles. The shanty +is not too primitive to vend refreshing drinks, and the ancient +Frenchman in the doorway vainly lures us to lemonade and sour wine. The +guide hands out sticks for those of us who walk, swings the camera strap +over his shoulder, and we all wave a friendly hand to the old +mountain-taverner, who grins a forgiving _au revoir_. + +We strike at once into the thicket. There is only the footway to pierce +it, crooked and steep and stony from the start. + + "The winding vale now narrows on the view," + +and the crowding trees at times shut out all sight of the cliffs +opposite and above, though we always hear the noise of the torrent. The +sun can rarely find the path, which is damp and at places muddy. The +slant of the gorge has grown steeper, and when we come to breaks in the +forest, we see the water tearing down toward us along its broken trough +in increasing contortions, often in great flying leaps. No path could +hold this incline directly, and this one gracefully yields and adopts +the usual expedient, ricochetting upward in short, incessant lacings, +tracing up in the main the run of the Gave, but often diverted, +zigzagging, always mounting, quadrupling the distance while it quarters +the angle. + +Two other cascades are passed. The horses, used to the work, strain +forward uncomplainingly, the guide leading the foremost; they toil +quietly along the easier spots, but tug themselves rapidly, almost +convulsively, up over the hard ones. The jolting, pitching motion is +severe and somewhat trying; and at intervals the ladies dismount and +join us in walking,--relieving the effort of rest with the rest of +effort. + +An hour or less of this, and then another roar presages another +cataract, and soon we emerge upon the scene. This is the _Pont +d'Espagne_, a bridge of long logs stretching across the torrent at the +spot where two streams unite and throw themselves together into the +hollow, twenty-eight or thirty feet below. We pause on the rough bridge +and gaze down at the plunging water and foam and upward at our +surroundings. The entire picture, framed in by the sharp blackness of +the pines and the broken escarpments of cliff and mountain, has been +well compared to a scene in Norway. + +At the other side of the bridge stand another shanty and another shed; +also another refreshment-vendor. A cool beverage has an attraction now +which it had not earned an hour ago, and we feel that a breathing-spell +will not be wasted. + +Here paths unite as well as streams. We have been nearing the Spanish +frontier-line again, and the trail following the right-hand stream would +lead up toward its source and pass on over the crest of the mountain +down to the Spanish baths of Panticosa, as did the path from Gabas in +the Ossau valley. The top of the pass is three hours away, and the view, +it is said, is very extensive. These passes over the main chain are +known as _ports_, as those over its branches are called cols. They are +generally simple notches in the dividing ridges, massive but narrow, and +the winds blow through them at a gallop. In a storm or in winter the +danger is extreme. The Basques and Pyreneans have a saying that "he who +has not been on the sea or in the _port_ during a storm knows not the +power of God." + +The path following the leftward stream leads to the Lac de Gaube, two +miles farther on, and is the one we now take. The way continues much the +same as before, but the trees become sparser and the outlook wider and +more desolate as we ascend. + +Our guide is a sunburnt, athletic Frenchman of middle age, noticeable so +far chiefly for his huge grey mustachios and for his silence. He has +been willing but laconic,--taciturn, in fact. But I have felt sure he +has a "glib" side. Can I find it? The stillest of men are fluent on +their loved topics; there is some key to unlock every one's reserve. Can +I hit upon the key to his? Which of possible interests in common will +bring us into talk? + +I am ahead with him now, in front of the horses, stepping up the +crooking staircase of stones, sounding him on the weather and the way. +Unexpectedly the key is hit upon. A chance comparison I make of a view +in the Alps lights up the old fellow's face, and when I happen to +mention an exploit of Whymper, his tongue is loosed. It is not merely a +name to him,--this of Edward Whymper, scaler of mountains, the first to +stand on the summit of the Matterhorn, one of the three who descended it +alive out of that fated party of seven. This man knows him, he tells me +joyously; he has been his guide here in the Pyrenees. It was many years +back; he does not recall the year. It is evidently his proudest +recollection, and he is more than willing to talk of it. In fact, I am +as interested as he; for the pages of my copy of Whymper's _Scrambles +among the Alps_ have been very often turned. + +Whymper came here, it seems, with his usual desire to conquer, and the +guide tells me of some of the peaks they stormed together. The more +familiar giants, the Vignemale, Mont Perdu and others, were climbed as a +matter of course. Their ardor was greatest, however, in assaulting some +uncaptured summit; and several such fell before their conquering attack. +Monsieur Wheempair, the guide goes on, was "_très intrépide_"; not +stout, but firmly compacted, lithe and very active, and he never asked a +hand. "He told me," adds my companion, "that some time we would go to +the Alps together;" and the man turns to me as we work onward, and +questions me about those mountains. That is his ambition now,--to visit +Switzerland and the rivals of his Mont Perdu and Maladetta. + +I tell him, too, something of the greater peaks his hero has +subsequently rendered subject among the Andes,--Chimborazo, Antisana and +others; of his passing twenty-six consecutive hours encamped with his +guides on the summit of Cotopaxi; of the difficulties of route and +dangers of weather he everywhere experienced. The guide had heard that +Whymper had been in the Andes, but knew no details of his doings nor of +the heights and nature of the mountains. He greedily adds these new +facts to his collection of Whymperiana. + +These guides make little. To be sure, they spend little. Probably they +want for little, as well. Living is low, and the Frenchman is thrifty. +Yet a guide's occupation is particularly uncertain; there are long gaps +of enforced idleness even in the season, and wages of seven or eight +francs a day when he is employed are not only little enough at best, +considering the toil and occasional danger, but must be averaged down to +cover the unoccupied days besides. For ascents among the greater peaks +the pay is better, but they are much less frequent. My friend of the +mustachios lives in Cauterets, he tells me, during the season; he has a +family; in winter he can work at logging and wood-hauling, in summer he +earns most as a guide. Many persons too come to hunt, not to climb, and +sportsmen are always liberal; but the hunting is growing poor; the +bouquetin is extinct, the bear is almost gone, the wolf is a coward; of +large game, only the izard remains. + + +V. + +Meanwhile, we have all been clambering up the pathway, calling out at +points of view, expecting at each rise to see the lake in the level +above. At length, a short hour from the Pont d'Espagne, we press up the +last curve, come out suddenly upon a plateau, and the lonely basin of +the Lac de Gaube is before us. + +Just ahead is the low-roofed house built at the side of the lake for the +purposes of a restaurant; and we enter, to unroll the wraps and make +some important stipulations regarding trout and a soufflet. Though the +lake is not even with the snow-level, the cool air makes a light +overcoat most acceptable after the warm morning climb. Then we hurry out +to see our surroundings. + +The great Vignemale, the central feature in the picture, at first +disappoints us. This, the fourth in height of Pyrenees mountains, +confronts one squarely from across the lake, effectively framed between +two barren slopes,--the highest of its triple peaks somewhat hidden by +the hill on the right. But the giant does not seem to tower in the +least, and appears from this spot little else than a huge but disjointed +mass of rock and glaciers, in the latter of which the Vignemale abounds. +The view improves, a few yards on around the lake. But it requires an +effort to believe that of those + + "three mountain tops, + Three silent pinnacles of aged snow," + +the loftiest is ten thousand, eight hundred and twenty feet above the +sea; it is still harder to grant that its knobby tips are a full mile in +perpendicular height above us at the Lac de Gaube. It is only by degrees +that the distant form seems to grow and mount, as we come to realize its +true dimensions. + +This mountain was never ascended until 1834, when two guides from a +neighboring valley, Cantouz and Guilhembert by name, finally mastered +it. The ascent was marked by a signal exhibition of pluck. The men had +attained, after perilous work, the large glacier of Ossoue. They were +traversing it, toilsomely and carefully, when an ice-bridge gave way +beneath them and plunged them both into the depths of a crevasse. They +were made insensible by the fall. Cantouz at last came to himself, +stiffened and bruised; to his joy Guilhembert also was after some effort +brought back to consciousness. For hours these men picked their icy way +along the bottom of the crevasse and its branches, through the water and +melted snow, seeking some opening, some way of escape to the upper +surface of the glacier. Effort after effort failed. The day was waning. +At length a narrow "chimney" was found, more promising than the rest; +and by painful and dangerous degrees, wearied, sore and half-frozen as +they were, the two slowly worked a zigzag way upward to the light. + +Did they turn thankfully homeward and leave the grim Vignemale to its +isolation? They did not. They grimly went on with the attack. Before +darkness had fallen, they stood upon the summit,--the first human beings +to accomplish the feat. They had to spend the night upon the mountain, +but it was as their subject realm. + +The lake itself is perhaps a mile across, and is exceedingly deep. The +mountains crowd close to its edge, here wooded, there running off in +long sweeps of rubbly waste, again starting sharply upward from the +water. Close by the path, a tongue of rock runs out into the lake, and +on this still stands the little shaft, enclosed with iron palisades, + + "A broken chancel with a broken cross, + That stood on a dark strait of barren land,"-- + +a monument to a young Englishman and his wife, who were drowned here +more than fifty years ago. They were on their wedding trip, and had come +to the Lac de Gaube; they took a small boat for a row, and by a +never-explained accident lost their lives together. The pathetic +inscription reads: + + "This tablet is dedicated to the memory of William Henry Pattisson, + of Lincoln's Inn, London, Esq., barrister at law; and of Susan + Frances, his wife; who, in the 31st and 26th years of their age, + and within one month of their marriage, to the inexpressible grief + of their surviving relations and friends, were accidentally drowned + together in this lake, on the 20th day of September, 1832. Their + remains were conveyed to England, and interred there at Witham, in + the County of Essex." + +A party of jolly, black-garbed priests have been journeying up the path +behind us from the Pont d'Espagne. They now come out from the inn upon +the scene of action. Their cordial faces attract us at once; they +approach our little summer-house, and conversation opens on both +sides,--with nation, tongue and creed soon in genial comity. Two of +these men are young; their features, refined and thoughtful, are those +of students; all are as fun-loving as boys out of school. They +investigate the camera with great interest, and ask about our plans and +travels, and tell us about their own. They invite us to join in a row on +the lake, but we are mindful of the soufflet in near readiness; so they +finally push out from the shore, charmed to oblige by forming the +foreground for a photograph. + +[Illustration: THE LAC DE GAUBE AND THE VIGNEMALE.] + +Other arrivals, two or three, are now at the inn, for the Lac de Gaube +is a "required course" for all visitors to Cauterets. We are +guilefully glad we preempted the trout. It is a very substantial little +meal they serve, in this wilderness of rock and fir, where every supply +except fish must be carried up, as it were, piecemeal. The proprietor +does well in the catering line, but less well, he mourns to us, on his +boats. It is that monument. The pale shaft is a constant _memento mori_. +It suggests tragic possibilities. It always chills the tourist's +enthusiasm for a row, and generally freezes it altogether. With good +reason, it seems, may mine host complain bitterly of its flattening +effects on the boat-trade; and there is a dark whisper in Cauterets +that, were the shaft not so closely enveloped both in religious sanctity +and in municipal protection, it would some night mysteriously disappear. + + +VI. + +The sun still blazes down upon the motionless lake, as we walk out once +more for a long gaze toward the snows of the Vignemale. We try to trace +out the route to its perilous summits, and conjecture the direction +taken by Cantouz and Guilhembert when they made that grim first ascent; +and our guide, approaching now with the horses, points out the direction +afterward taken by Whymper and himself. We settle our account for the +repast,--an account by no means exorbitant; wraps are re-cylindered and +re-strapped, and we are soon on the return path downward through the +woods. The saddles pitch like skiffs at sea. These Pyrenean horses are +far more pronounced in their motions than the lowly Swiss mule. One by +one the ladies dismount, and for the steep portions at least the horses +go riderless, and no doubt secretly exult in their own shortcomings. + +We pass the Pont d'Espagne, the roar of whose cataract is cheering the +waiting hours of its solitary refreshment-seller. We plunge into the +thicker leafage below, striding fast, or staying to lend hands from +stone to stone or around the patches of wet ground. The woods echo with +the noise of the brook, and now and then with the crack of a distant +rifle; and finally we are down again to the first hut and taverner and +the Cerizet fall. Now the ladies can spring comfortably up to their +saddles once more, and the carriage-road is a welcome change from the +lumpy bridle-path which we are leaving behind. + +We keep on in the mid-afternoon along the road, the horses led by the +guide and ambling placidly along, the rest of us briskly afoot. The +spring-houses are reached in due succession, and finally we are at the +Raillère once more, where we have planned to take the omnibus which runs +half-hourly to Cauterets. And so we buy our tickets, pay the +guide,--with a double douceur for his mountaineering reminiscences,--and +are soon rattling down the hill toward the town, and studying another +priest, a fat, stubby friar on the opposite seat, who is conning his +breviary, murmuring his orisons, and glancing wickedly about with his +beady little eyes. There is also a gorgeously attired French dowager +aboard, and a sprightly soldier; and in the interest of watching them +all and the joy of repose against the padded leather cushions, we lose +the idea of time until we draw up in the little plaza of Cauterets +again, 'at half-past four by the meet'n'-house clock.' + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A COLOSSEUM OF THE GODS. + + _"Pyrene celsa nimbosi verticis arce, + Divisos Celtis late prospectat Hiberos + Atque æterna tenet magnis divortia terris."_ + + --SILIUS ITALICUS. + + +"Parting is such sweet sorrow." Thus it is at Cauterets. The hotel +manager evinces it as well as we. But the hour has come to leave him, +and the tinseled supernumerary enters, left centre, with, "Milord, the +carriages wait." The hotel bill here comes naturally to the front, and +we find the charges very much on the average of all Continental resorts. +So it has been at Biarritz, so at San Sebastian, Pau and Eaux Bonnes. +Pyrenean hotel-keepers are not, as we had formerly mistrusted, an +organization for plunder. The expense question is always timely, and +experience works out the conclusion that, in the main and speaking +generally, one pays at about the same scale of prices for the same +accommodation, throughout Europe. In both, of course, there is +customarily a wide range of choice. It must be said that charges for +travelers are out of all proportion with the cost of living to the +peasants; and the morning hotel-service of coffee and rolls is fixed at +a price at which a thrifty native would support his family for a day or +more. The _National Review_ recently stated that the average expenditure +of the peasant freeholder in the south of France upon his food has been +accurately computed and that it amounted to the astonishingly small sum +of only four sous daily,--this sum having reference to a family, say, of +four or five, and where the children are under the age of seventeen or +eighteen years. This statement presumably refers to rural freeholders +only,--where cattle and farm-land supply the staples without purchase; +but even so, one finds difficulty in crediting it in full. The +housewives are minutely frugal; they will claim a rebate on a lacking +pennyweight in the pound; but it is scarcely to be admitted that any +economy could lower the expense of necessary outside provisioning to +such a sum. Still, quintupling it even, the hotel, at the spa a mile +away, will charge you the same twenty sous for a cup of coffee, and +considerably more for the lightest meal. The disproportion is thus seen +to be enormous. + +Yet at its highest it is not burdensome to a comer from richer +countries. The hotel prices themselves halt at a certain mark, and +marbled buildings and aristocratic prestige cannot force them higher. +Wealthy idleness, Continental idleness in particular, knows to a nicety +the sums it is willing to pay for its pleasures. It pays that +cheerfully. A centime beyond, it would denounce as imposition. + +Extortion is rare; we have not met one instance in these mountains. +Oftener we find items to be added to a charge than erased. In this +respect, the Pyrenees will prove less expensive than Switzerland, for +they are so little touched by the money-reckless Anglo-Saxon. That +ubiquitous tourist has not yet come, to brush with o'er rude hand the +silvery dust from their butterfly wings. Nor--to complete the +statement--have they yet learned to brush with o'er rude hand the +golden dust from _his_ butterfly wings. The latter fact is perhaps as +important as the former. + + +II. + +The road to Luz, whither we are now bound, will take us back along the +shadow of the Viscos to Pierrefitte, and then up the left side of the +angle under the other haunch of that dividing mountain. We start in the +cool of the afternoon, preferring that time to mid-day for the drive. +The ride down to Pierrefitte is quick and exhilarating. The six miles +seem as furlongs. One enjoys more than doubly the double traversing of +fine scenery, and this review of the splendors of the Cauterets gorge +many degrees intensifies its effect. At Pierrefitte, the same innkeeper +shows the same gladness to find that the same travelers are still +thirsty, but there is nothing else to detain us in the little railway +terminus. Here we take up again the thread of the Route Thermale, +dropped for the visit to Cauterets; and trend again up into a mountain +valley, the Viscos now on the right. The valley soon becomes a gorge in +its turn, but the sides gape more widely and the incline of the road is +slighter than of the one we have left. At times the horses can trot +without interruption. It is an aggressive, inquiring road, is the Route +Thermale, and thinks nothing of heights and depths nor of stepping +across the Gave to better its condition. We cross that stream several +times on the way to Luz. Each time, the passage is so narrow as to be +spanned by a single arch, the keystone three hundred feet or higher +above the water. + +It is fourteen miles around from Cauterets to Luz, eight from +Pierrefitte. In all, less than three hours have passed when we come out +from between the cliffs into a wide, level hollow, carpeted with green +and yellow, patterned with fields and orchards and thatched roofs, +seamed with rills, and altogether happy and alive. Maize and millet rim +all the foot-hills, and forests the higher mountains around. We trot +across the level meadows through a poplar-marked road toward the foot of +the Pic de Bergonz, and run up into the little town of Luz. + +This Luz valley, once part of a miniature republic like the Valley of +Ossau, is in the form of a triangle. We have just entered by the +northern corner. From the angle on the right runs the defile leading +southward to the far-famed Gavarnie, our to-morrow's excursion. On the +left, through the opening of the remaining angle, the Thermal Route +passes on eastward to Barèges and Bigorre, and that we are to resume on +returning from Gavarnie. + +The Widow Puyotte, at the Hotel de l'Univers, proves almost as winsome +and quite as cordial as good Madame Baudot. The hotel has a châlet-like +appearance which is unconventional and pleasing. Here too, as at Eaux +Chaudes, our rooms overlook the Gave, but this stream is running +sedately through the town itself instead of rollicking down a mountain +gorge. + + +III. + +We find Luz as lovable as its location. It is not fashionable and it has +no springs. There are few objects of interest to clamor for recognition. +Yet its appearance is so tidy, its bent streets so multifariously +irrigated, its people so open-faced and respectful, that the town has an +immediate charm. We are impressed everywhere in these mountains with the +geniality of the people. Human nature, considering its discouragements, +is wonderfully good at bottom. Kindliness seems a universal trait in the +Pyrenees. It shines out in every nature. One has only to meet it half +way. Innkeeper, guide, shopkeeper or peasant, all are unaffectedly +good-tempered and well-disposed. A discourteous return would puzzle +them; a harsh complaint would wound deeply. The sunshine comes from a +nearer sun than in the north. A polite nation, the French are reputed to +be; but always underlying this good repute has been the suspicion that +the politeness serves mainly to cover self-interest; that it is simply +an integument, a rind. In the cities there is a certain truth in this; +but the provinces are not thus tainted. In these southern mountains the +core is sound and sweet. The response to our advances is so hearty and +direct, the interest taken so friendly, that its sincerity is +unquestionable. Beggars abound; but your evidently self-respecting +husbandman talking willingly with you in the millet-field is not of that +class; he is not expecting a coin at parting. In some parts of Europe, +he would be disappointed not to get two. On the Route Thermale, a small +brace under one of the carriages gave way; it was near a village; we +were promptly surrounded by six or eight pleasant-faced villagers, who +turned their hands at once to help: one held the horses, three joined to +lift the carriage, one or two crept under to assist the driver in +repairs, and the others, while we talked with them, looked anxiously on, +as relieved as all of us when the difficulty was finally adjusted. There +was a raising of berrets, there were bows and good wishes, there was a +hearty "_Bon jour, mesdames et messieurs_" as we started, and the men +moved back down the road without a thought that their aid should have +been sold for a price. + +The wealthy French and Spanish, who are the chief visitors to these +resorts, are judicious travelers; they injure neither the dispositions +nor the independence of the natives. The Anglo-Saxon will come in time; +he will regard these natives, as everywhere, as a lesser humanity; he +will throw them centimes and sous; he will find imperious fault; he will +cut off this ready communicativeness, miss all touch with these friendly +lives, and knock their confiding "feelers" back into the shell. But the +advance-guard at least of our countrymen will find here a human nature +poor and narrowed but right-minded, true, unwarped either by feudal +lordliness or modern superciliousness. Reciprocity of treatment, let us +hope, will endeavor to keep it so for years yet coming. + + +IV. + +There is a famous old church of the Templars at Luz, which we go to see. +It stands at the top of a hilly street, shut off behind a stout +fortified wall and between two square flanking towers. We pass through +the gateway, and the old sacristan lets us into the church. There is a +curious gate, a turret rough in traced carving, and inside, in the dim +light, we are chiefly impressed with the rude-gilded altar and the +grotesque frescoes on the walls. Yet there is a certain solemnity about +the darkness and stillness, after coming from the warm daylight outside. +It preaches silently of devotion, of the mystery of religion, of the +power and the poetry of worship. "It is a superstition of the place that +at a certain time the dead warrior-priests rise from their graves and +sit in ghostly assembly, remembering the time when they had raised these +rafters and piled these stones together and worshiped therein and died +and were buried beneath them. + +"The old church lies in the shadow of the Pic de Bergonz and within +ear-shot of a mountain's torrent; and the moonlight plays all sorts of +fantastic tricks, throwing strange shadows, until it is not difficult to +fancy that unearthly forms are near.... At the hour of vespers, there +are as many as two hundred women in the church, [their heads always +covered with their brown or scarlet capulets,] and its ancient, sombre +interior appears filled with hooded figures, such as have often troubled +our childish dreams, kneeling and crouching in the uncertain twilight to +the sound of the Miserere."[26] + +No one knows the age of this church. Some accounts give the year 1060, +but as the Templars' order was not founded until 1117 or 1118, this is +improbable. They were warlike in their religion, these Templars, quite +as able to fight as to pray, pledged "never to fly before three infidels +even when alone," and with a stirring touch of romance about all their +history. They were planted here, as is stated, to guard the frontier in +those troublous times, keeping vigilant watch against both Saracens and +Spaniards; and few will say that the Christian valley of Luz could have +been more efficiently defended. + +[26] From _Roadside Sketches_, by Three Wayfarers. + + +After we have looked over the interior, the sacristan conducts us out +into the mouldy little burying-ground at one side, and crossing the +grass, proudly points out in the surrounding wall the chief historic +ear-mark of the place,--a scar among the stones, where was once a narrow +opening through the wall. This was the despised entrance set apart for +that singular race, the Cagots. The Cagots were a once-distinct tribe +dwelling in corners of all these Pyrenean valleys, similar to the Cacous +or Caqueux of Brittany and Auvergne, and for some reason held as +outcasts and in universal detestation. The popular abhorrence of them +was phenomenal. Their origin is not known: of Goths, Alans, Moors, Jews, +Egyptians, each theory has had its propounder. Even the taint of descent +from lepers has been ascribed to them. But whoever their ancestors, the +people would none of them. They were pariahs, proscribed and held +infamous. They lived in separate hamlets, shunned and insulted, their +lives desolate and joyous, without hope, without spirit, without +ambition. Laws were passed against them, one at Bordeaux as late as +1596,--many earlier; by these they were even denied the rights of +citizens; they could not bear arms, nor engage in any trade save +wood-working or menial occupations, nor marry out of their race; they +were obliged to wear a scarlet badge on the shoulder, in the shape of a +goose's foot; they were not to go barefoot in towns lest they +contaminate the streets, and the penalty was branding with a red-hot +iron; they were not to touch the provisions in the market-place nor the +holy water in the font; they must creep into the church corners through +contemptuous side-doors, as at Larroque and Lannemezan and here at Luz. +The priests would hardly admit them to confession; the tribunals +required the testimony of seven to equal that of a citizen; and hatred +pursued them even to the grave and compelled their dead to be buried in +lonely plots of ground, separate and remote from the Acre of God. + +Did a burgher sicken and die, witchcraft was charged to the Cagot; did a +reckless mob seek to vent its spite, it fell upon the Cagot. Despite +popular report, most of them had the appearance of ordinary humanity, +though rarely its spirit; a few even held their own intellectually; but +very many, bred in by constant intermarriage of kin, seem to have +become as the Swiss cretins,--deformed, idiotic, repulsive. + +The Cagots were cursed "on four separate heads and on four separate and +opposing propositions: for being lepers, for being Jews, for being +Egyptians, and for being Moors or Saracens;" and they were persecuted +"as though the objectionable points of all four races were centred in +them." As lepers, they were reputed to be descendants of the cursed +Gehazi; as Egyptians, they were ascribed the _jettatura_ or evil eye; as +Saracens, they were held unclean and descended from infidels; and as +Jews, their enforced pursuit of the carpenter's trade was considered as +proving that their ancestors were the builders of the Cross! + +Few of the race are to be found in these happier days; the old laws were +softened during the first quarter of the eighteenth century, and the +Revolution did away with them altogether. The Cagots as a separate tribe +have gradually disappeared or been absorbed. Yet the antipathy to the +name and the tribe even to-day in some of these regions, though now +chiefly a tradition, is still alive and implacable. M. Ramond, the +Saussure of the Pyrenees, carefully studied these outcasts over +seventy-five years ago, and made this touching statement concerning +them: + +"I have seen," he wrote, "some families of these unfortunate creatures. +They are gradually approaching the villages from which prejudice has +banished them. The side-doors by which they were formerly obliged to +enter the churches are useless, and some degree of pity mingles at +length with the contempt and aversion which they formerly inspired; yet +I have been in some of their retreats where they still fear the insults +of prejudice and await the visits of the compassionate. I have found +among them the poorest beings perhaps that exist upon the face of the +earth. I have met with brothers who loved each other with that +tenderness which is the most pressing want of isolated men. I have seen +among them women whose affection had a somewhat in it of that submission +and devotion which are inspired by feebleness and misfortune. And never, +in this half-annihilation of those beings of my species, could I +recognize without shuddering the extent of the power which we may +exercise over the existence of our fellow,--the narrow circle of +knowledge and of enjoyment within which we may confine him,--the +smallness of the sphere to which we may reduce his usefulness.". + + +V. + +Coming out again upon the street, we stray down into one of the +shops,--a shop local and naïve, a veritable French country-store. We +have noticed the hemp-soled sandals worn by many of the mountaineers, +and incline to test them for the approaching excursion to Gavarnie. The +dark-eyed little proprietor and his wife spring to greet us; foreign +customers, especially English or American, are with them a rare +sight,--St. Sauveur, a mile away, being a more usual stopping-place for +travelers than Luz; and soon the floor is littered with canvas-topped +footwear, solicitously searched over for the needed sizes. A running +fire of conversation accompanies the fitting. They show the usual French +interest in ourselves and our country; we enlarge their views +considerably on the latter score, though heroically refraining from +romancing. They make a fair livelihood from their store, they inform +us; many farmers and peasants outside of the village come to buy at Luz. +In fact, the small shopkeepers such as these are generally the +prosperous class in a place like Luz, though the standard of prosperity +might not coincide with that of the cities. But as compared with that of +their customers among the peasantry of the district, it seems to include +not only necessity but comfort. + +For notwithstanding the luxuriance of these valleys, little of their +luxury, even to-day, goes to the tillers of their soil. The Pyrenean +farmer or mountaineer has to support his family now, as in past ages, in +poverty. Little beyond the most meagre of diet can he commonly provide +them, and it is the joint anxiety of ensuring even this, that wears and +disfeatures him and them, as much doubtless as its meagreness. Bread, of +barley or wheat or rye, is the great staple, supplemented by what milk +can be spared from the town's demands. Eggs and butter go oftener to the +market. Vegetables, such as lentils and beans, are also important, a few +potatoes, occasional fruits and berries, and above all the powerful and +omnipresent onion or garlic stew, signaling its brewing for rods around. +In the summer, if he moves with his family to the higher pasture-lands +to better pasture the herds, his daily menu expands in some directions +and contracts in others. Fête-days and Sundays and trips to the town are +usually the occasions of some indulgence, and a thin wine and perhaps +macaroni or a pullet or a cut of beef or pork make the event memorable. +But the chief fact is that he is fairly contented under all. His life +has work and poverty and care, but it has its freedom in addition; he +accepts it as it is, fully and without envy; it is not his class who are +first to swell the numbers of the _sans-culottes_. When Henry IV +pressed his old peasant playfellows to ask some gift or favor at his +hands, their modest ambition stopped at a simple permission to "pay +their tithe in grain without the straw." + +Often there is even a little fund put by, or anxiously invested; France +is noted for the number of abstemious husbandmen who add their mite of +savings to her financial enterprises, and the distress and +discouragement caused when one of these fails is easily conceivable. On +the whole, the French small proprietor or peasant is thrifty and +uncomplaining to a rather surprising degree, considering the national +trait of restiveness. The revolutions of France are bred in her great +cities, not in the provinces. + +"But pastoral occupations form only a small part of the business of the +Pyrenees," observes a recent writer in _Blackwood's_, in a summary so +compact and accurate as to merit quoting. "There are large, various and +constantly increasing industries, all special to the country. As water +power is to be found everywhere, there are flour-mills and saw-mills in +many of the villages. In certain valleys,--round Luz, for +instance,--almost every peasant has rough little grinding stones and +converts his own barley, buckwheat and maize into flour. Handlooms are +numerous, and coarse woollen stuffs for the peasants' clothes are +largely made. At Nay, near Pau, are factories where blue berrets for the +Pyrenees and red fezzes for Constantinople are woven side by side. The +scarlet sashes that the men wear round their waists are produced at +Oloron. The manufacture of rough shoes in jute or hemp (_espadrillas_) +is a growing element of local trade. Marble and slate works are +plentiful, mainly concentrated round Lourdes and at Bagnères de +Bigorre.... Persons who are insensible to marble can turn to the knitted +woollen fabrics of which such quantities are made at Bagnères; many of +them are as fine as the best Shetland work, with the additional merit of +being as soft as eider-down. The barley-sugar which everybody eats at +Cauterets must also be counted; for it rises there to a position which +it possesses nowhere else in the world,--it is regarded as a necessity +of life; the commerce in it attains such proportions that 10,000 sticks +are sold each day during the season. The little objects in boxwood which +are hawked about by peddlers must be included too; and the list of +special Pyrenean industries may be closed by bird-catching, which is +carried on in the autumn months, especially round St. Pé and Bagnères de +Bigorre. + +"There remains one trade more, however,--the greatest of all,--the +traffic in hot water. Numerous as are the natural beauties of the +district,--varied as are its attractions and its products,--it owes its +success, its prosperity and its wealth to its mineral springs. Some two +millions of gallons are supplied each day by them. Fifty-three towns and +villages exist already round the sources, and others are being invented +each year. The inhabitants of the valleys are making money out of them +in every form; for though the harvest is limited to the warm months, it +is so various, so widespread, and so productive while it lasts, that +everybody has a share in it, from the land-owner who sees his grass +converted into building ground, to the half naked boy who cries the +Paris newspapers when the post comes in. + +"That hot water should become a civilizer and should mount in that way +to the level of religion, education, monogamy, wealth and the fine arts, +is a new view of hot water; but it is a true one in this case, for +nothing else could have evolved the Pyrenees so widely or so fast. +Neither commerce nor conquest has ever changed a region as hot water has +transformed these valleys." + + +VI. + +"There are corners here and there," remarks the same writer in another +connection, describing this valley of Luz, "which have about them such +an atmosphere of purity and innocence that people have been known in +their enthusiasm to proclaim that they felt inclined to repent of all +their favorite sins and to exist thenceforth in total virtue. They +produce on nearly every one a softening effect; indeed they almost +_make_ you better. The vale of Luz is certainly the most winning of +these retreats. Its soothing calm, its welcoming tenderness, its look of +friendship and of wise counsel, wind themselves around you; and the +beauty of its grassy shades, of its leafy brakes and color-changing +hills, delights and wins you. Its babbling, laughing streams fill the +whole air with life and melody; every chink of the old dry walls is +choked with maiden-hair; from the damp rocks amid the dripping streams +hang strange, fantastic mosses,--orange, grey and russet,--and with them +grow wild flowers, white and purple, and emerald ferns with brilliant +deep-notched leaves that glisten in the wet; and mixed with all stretch +out the tangled rootlets of the beeches, bathing their bright red, +yellow-tipped fibres in the splashing drops. The meadows are so intense +in color, they are so supremely, so saturatedly, so bottomlessly green, +that you recognize you never knew green until you saw it there; and +while you gaze, you feel instinctively that you have reached a promised +land." + + +VII. + +The most noted excursion in the Pyrenees,--its _coup de théatre_,--is +now before us. It is to _Gavarnie_, whose giant semicircle of precipices +has been called "the end of the world." Luz and St. Sauveur constitute +the most available headquarters for this trip, which is taken by every +traveler to these mountains. "In the popular [French] imagination," +writes a lively essayist, "the Pyrenees are composed of +carriages-and-four, of capulets and berrets, of mineral waters, rocky +gorges, Luchon, admirable roads, bright green valleys, two hundred and +thirty hotels, and the Cirque of Gavarnie." + +The cliffs of Gavarnie form the Spanish frontier. A village of the same +name lies near their feet on this French side, thirteen miles up the +defile leading south from the valley of Luz. There is now a +carriage-road for almost the entire distance, and if fame is true, never +did a destination better merit a road. We count on a memorable day, as +the landau and the victoria carry us away from Luz,--where voluntary +promise of a super-excellent table-d'hôte on our return has just been +given by Madame Puyotte and thus every care removed. + +The road crosses the valley, under the sentinel poplars, leaves on the +right the road by which we came in from Pierrefitte, and shortly comes +to the opening of the defile to Gavarnie. At the immediate entrance +across the ravine stands the white street of hotels and lodging-houses +which constitutes the Baths of St. Sauveur. We shall cross to it on our +return, and now scan it only from the distance as we pass. It joins +itself to our highway by a superb bridge, over two hundred feet above +the chasm,--a single astonishing arch, one of the longest in existence, +its span being 153 feet across, and its total length 218. It is of +marble, a gift of Louis Napoleon and Eugénie to commemorate their stay +at St. Sauveur; its cost was upward of sixty thousand dollars. + +From this on, the scenery becomes again increasingly wild. The gorge now +opens and now narrows, the mountains above us here approach over the +road, there draw back in a long, sweeping glacis of wood or pasture. The +ledge of the road is at times four hundred feet above the frothy +watercourse, which in some spots disappears entirely from sight in the +chasm. Tiny mills are seen standing tremulously near its fierce supply, +and there is room for a hamlet here and there, sheltered in a clump of +ash or sycamore, on the mountain or at a widening of the valley. When +the road nears the cliffs of Gavarnie, it will expire, from the simple +impossibility of proceeding farther; so it is scarcely a thoroughfare, +and we meet only infrequent bucolics or a few wood-carts coming down +toward Luz. One fair-sized rustic village is passed through; and, two +hours after the start, a second one, Gèdre, our more-than-half-way +house, is finally seen ahead. + +The mountain wall we are approaching begins now to show its battlements, +far ahead. The snowy _Tours de Marboré_ overtop it, and at their right +can be plainly seen two small, rectangular nicks, embrasures in this +mammoth parapet. Small they seem, as we sight them from this distance, +but these notches are 9000 feet above the sea, and the greater of the +two is a colossal gateway into Spain, no less than 300 feet in width and +350 feet deep. This is the famous _Brèche de Roland_, familiar to all +lovers of Gavarnie. When Charlemagne made his invasion into Spain,--the +invasion from which he was afterward to withdraw by Roncesvalles,--he +sought to enter it, tradition says, by this defile to Gavarnie. Finding +all progress blocked by the walls of the Cirque, he ordered Roland to +open a way; and that lusty paladin with one blow of his good sword +Durandal opened this breach for the passage of the army. There is +another version of the making, which links it with the throes of +Roland's defeat and death at Roncesvalles, at the end instead of at the +beginning of the invasion; but even under unbounded poetic license, the +mind refuses to admit that the wounded hero, bleeding and gasping for +breath, could have made his way a hundred miles over the mountains from +Roncesvalles, to shiver his sword against the cliffs of the Cirque and +end his death-struggles at Gavarnie. + +At Gèdre the horses pause for a rest and a drink, and travelers can do +likewise. From this village, the main defile cuts on to Gavarnie, and +another opens off to the left toward another cirque,--the Cirque of +_Troumouse_. Thus each branch ends in a similar formation, peculiar to +the Pyrenees, a semicircle of cliffs, sudden and blank and impassable. +The Cirque of Troumouse is larger around than that of Gavarnie, but its +walls are not so high and its effect is reported to be less imposing. To +reach it from Gèdre requires perhaps three hours, the drivers tell us, +by a good bridle-path. We feel tempted to revisit this point from Luz, +another day, and explore the route toward Troumouse. + +To-day, however, this is not to be; Gavarnie beckons, and we gird us +anew and press from Gèdre on. The carriages twist their way up an +unusual incline, and it is ten of the clock as we stop to face a long +cascade which is jumping down from a cut across the chasm and not too +busy with its own affairs to give us an answering halloo. The great +Cirque is now coming more and more distinctly into view, though still +some miles ahead. The two breaches are no longer seen, but snow-walls +are becoming visible on all sides, and the distant precipices are +constantly crowding into line and assuming shape and form. Even Louis +the Magnificent's haughty proclamation, "_il n'y a plus de Pyrénées_," +could not erase this impassable barrier. It was made for a wall of +nations. + +Already our destination sends out to welcome us. We have hardly left +Gèdre, with several miles still to drive, before we are assaulted by +peasants on horseback, advance-agents from Gavarnie. The carriage-road +will end at the village, and the Cirque itself is three miles beyond; it +is reached on foot or on horseback, and these peasants lie in wait along +the road for visitors, to forestall their rivals in the letting of +saddle-horses, and each to offer his or her particular animal for the +way. In vain we assure them that we shall make no choice until we come +to the inn at Gavarnie. They turn and ride by the side of the carriages, +urging their claims in incessant clamor, pressing about us, intercepting +the views, good-tempered enough but decidedly an annoyance. We speak +them fair, and request, then direct, them to abandon the chase. It has +no effect whatever. They continue their pestering tactics, now falling +behind, then ranging again alongside, hindering conversation, +interrupting constantly with their jargon. Plainly it is a time for firm +measures. We call a halt, and, standing up in the carriage, I tell them +once for all and finally that we will have nothing to do with them +either now or hereafter, either here or at the village; and order them +shortly and decisively to "get out." Even when translated into French, +there is a peculiar tang to this emphatic American expression that is +impolite but unmistakable; it takes effect even here in the Gèdre +solitudes, and we ride on without escort. + +[Illustration: THE CIRQUE OF GAVARNIE FROM THE CHAOS.] + +The road now passes into a remarkable region,--a famed part of this +famed route. This is the _Chaos_, so-called and justly. The side of the +mountain overhead appears to have broken off bodily and fallen into the +valley, and its ruins almost choke the bottom. Huge masses of granite +and gneiss are scattered everywhere in savage confusion, and the road +barely twines a painful way through the labyrinth. Scarcely a blade of +grass, a tint of green, is to be seen about us; the tract is given over +to utter desolation. + + "Confounded Chaos roar'd + And felt ten-fold confusion in their fall + Through his wild anarchy; so huge a rout + Incumbered him with ruin." + +Some of these fragments, it is said, contain a hundred thousand cubic +feet, and the blocks lie in all directions, uncounted tons of them, +grotesque and menacing, piled often one upon two, bulging out over the +diminished carriages or entirely disconcerting the hurrying torrent. + +"That block bigger than the church of Luz," points out Johnson, writing +of this spot, "has been split in twain by the other monster that has +followed in its track and cracked it as a schoolboy might do his +playfellow's marble. We cease to estimate them by their weight in tons, +as is the manner of hand-books, but liken, them to great castles encased +in solid stonework; or calculate that half-a-dozen or so would have made +up St. Paul's; or speculate upon the length of ladder we would want to +reach the purple auricula that is flowering in the crevice half way +up." + +Beyond this, as we draw near the end of our course, there is an opening +in the mountains on the right. A peak and a long bed of ice and snow are +seen high beyond, and the drivers tell us that we are looking at a side +glacier of the Vignemale, whose face we saw from the Lac de Gaube when +we climbed up the parallel defile from Cauterets. + +But here is the village of Gavarnie. We are in the courtyard before the +inn, bristling with an abatis of mules and horses in waiting row. + + +VIII. + +Negotiations for transport now begin. The black walls of the Cirque rise +beyond the village, closing the valley, seemingly just before us; but it +is a full league from the inn to the stalls of that august proscenium. +The ladies recall their unrestful saddle-ride to the lake, and decide +this time for sedan-chairs. The entire village is put in commotion by +the order; for three men, one as relief, are required for each chair, +(four on steeper routes,) and it takes but a very few times three to +foot up a quick and difficult total, where the call is sudden and the +supply small. The chairs themselves are promptly produced; they have +short legs, a dangling foot-rest, and long poles for the bearers, as in +Switzerland, but are ornamented besides with a hood or cover which shuts +back like a miniature buggy-top. Soon the additional men are brought in, +called from different vocations for the emergency; all of them +broad-shouldered and sturdy and with a willing twinkle in their eyes. +The ladies seat themselves, the first relays take their places before +and behind the chairs, pass the straps from the poles up over the +shoulders, bend their knees, grasp the handles, and with a simultaneous +"_huh_!" lift the litters and their fair freight from the ground. This +automatic performance is always interesting and always executed with +military precision. They pass down the village road with rhythmic, +measured tread, the substitutes carrying the wraps; the _petit garçon_ +of the party journeys forth on a donkey; and the rest of us, duly +disencumbered and shod with hemp, resist the importunities of the youth +at the inn to order a lunch for the return, and follow after on foot. + +The sole interest of the walk is this stupendous curve of cliffs ahead, +roofed with snow and glistening with rime and moisture. It fascinates, +yet we try not to look, reserving a climax for our halting-place. The +pathway is well marked though somewhat stony and irregular; the +valley-bottom is wider here and we are close by the side of the Gave. +The hemp sandals prove surprisingly useful. Their half-inch soles of +rope utterly deaden the inequalities of the ground, and the pebbly, +hummocky path is as a carpet beneath the feet. The bearers tramp +steadily onward, the chairs sinking and rising in easy vertical motion, +much more grateful than the horizontal "joggle" of the Pyrenean +saddle-horse. We are an hour in approaching the Cirque, which looms +higher at every step. The halting-place is reached at last. It is a +small plateau almost in the heart of the arena, and here there is a +restaurant,--the last house in France,--and the inevitable group of +idlers to ruin the effect of solitude. + + +IX. + +They cannot ruin the effect of sublimity, however. That term, not freely +perhaps to be used in all terrestrial scenes, is beyond question +applicable here. + +The Amphitheatre of Gavarnie, in which we stand, surpasses easy +description. It is a blank, continuous wall of precipices, bending +around us in the form of a horseshoe, a mile in diameter, and starting +abruptly from the floor of the valley,--perhaps the most magnificent +face of naked rock to be seen in Europe. Its cliffs rise first a sheer +fourteen hundred feet without a break; there is a narrow shelf of snow, +and above this ledge they rise to another, and then climb in stages +upward still, perpendicular and black, in a waste of escarpments and +buttresses, terraced with widening snow-fields tier on tier, until their +brows and cornices are nodding overhead almost a mile above the arena. +Higher yet, the separate summits stand like towers in the white glaciers +on the top; the Cylindre, at 10,900 feet above the sea, is partly hidden +at the left by its own projecting flanges, and nearer the centre of the +arc the Marboré, with its Casque and Turret, is but as an outwork +concealing the greater Mont Perdu, the highest mountain in the French +Pyrenees and next to the Maladetta the highest of the range. + +A dozen slender waterfalls, unnoticed Staubbachs, are showering from the +heights; over a ledge under the Mont Perdu streams the loftiest, known +too as the loftiest fall on the Continent. It comes over slowly, "like a +dropping cloud, or the unfolding of a muslin veil," falling steadily and +with scarcely an interruption a quarter of a mile in vertical height, +before it is finally whirled into spray against the rocks at the base. +And the Gave which these cascades unite to form, and which we have been +following thus toward its source this morning, is no other than the Gave +de Pau, which will hurry on and down through the valleys till it is +flowing below the old château of the kings of Navarre, and later +joining the Adour will pass on through Bayonne to the sea. + +It is a silencing scene. The effect it gives of simple largeness,--a +largeness uncomprehended before,--may be fairly called overpowering. +There is something almost of the terrific in it, something even +oppressive. We are as a fact at the end of the world. The eye does not +seem to be deceived here, as it often is in great magnitudes; it +belittles nothing; it realizes to the full this strange impression of +simple, hopeless bulk, immovable and pitiless as the reign of law. + +The floor of the Cirque, far from being level, is blocked with snow and +the débris of falling rock. Our halting-place is near the left curve of +the arc; and a half hour's toilsome scramble across its chord to the +opposite side would take us to the foot of a darker streak in the wall +which seems from here like a possible groove or gully and in fact is +such. Unscalable as it seems, that is the magic stairway which leads up +out of this rocky Inferno to the higher ledges and finally over +glacier-fields to the Brèche de Roland, (which is invisible from the +Cirque itself,) and through this gateway on into Spain. Mountaineers and +smugglers make the trip with unconcern, and it is entirely practicable +for tourists, though needing a sure foot and a stout pulmonary +apparatus. The Mont Perdu is also ascended from this direction; first +climbed in 1802 by the intrepid Ramond, who seems to have been as true a +mountaineer as a savant, it has been occasionally ascended since; its +ledges are notably treacherous and difficult, and the trip demands +proper implements and practiced guides. It is a striking fact that its +upper rocks have been found to be marine calcareous beds. That proud +eminence has not stood thus in the clouds for all time; it was once +buried fathoms deep under the Tertiary ocean. + +An interesting anecdote attaches to this mountain. It was assaulted some +years ago by a French lady, a Mme. L., who vowed that she should be the +first woman to stand upon the summit. She was accompanied by four +guides, pledged to carry her body to the top alive or dead. No carrying +was needed, however; the lady climbed with the coolness and hardihood of +a born mountaineer; they camped for the night on the way, 7500 feet +above the sea, at the base of the main peak, and in the morning she +triumphantly gained the top. But now the fair climber undid all the +glory of the exploit: a bottle had long been left in a niche of rock at +the top, opened by each rare new-comer in turn to add his name and a +sentiment or some expression of his admiration; our heroine opened this, +scattered the precious contents to the winds, and inserted her card in +their place, declaring that there should be but one name found on the +crest of the Mont Perdu, and that her own. + +Great was the indignation in the valley when this ungenerous act became +known. A young stranger was staying at St. Sauveur at the time; no +sooner had he heard of the occurrence than he started up the mountain +himself. It was but a few days after Mme. L.'s ascent; the despoiled +bottle was there, with its single slip of pasteboard; and a day or two +later, the lady, then in Paris, received a polite note enclosing the +card that she had left on the summit of the Mont Perdu, 10,999 feet +above the sea! + + +X. + +The restaurant, no less than the idlers, ruins the effect of solitude, +but we find that we bear this with more equanimity. We are glad we +resisted the village inn's importunities and can remain here for lunch +instead. While we are at the table, our jovial porters, grouped near the +path outside, while away the time in stentorian songs. We walk out +afterward some space farther toward the base of the cliffs; but the foot +of the fall is still two furlongs away, along the left wall,--a distance +equal to its height; and over the broken boulders of the bottom it seems +useless toil to clamber. So we sit and gaze again at the scene, seeking +to crowd this sensation of immensity even more deeply into the mind. We +cast about for some comparison to the scene. The sweep of the Gemmi +precipices rising around the village of Leukerbad in Switzerland is like +it in kind; but almost another Gemmi, mortared with ice and glacier, +would need to be reared upon the first, to overtop the snows of the +Gavarnie Cirque. + +We turn back to the porters at last, and the cavalcade of chairs forms +again. The men are earning three francs each by this noon holiday, and +they are in good spirits. They do not think the sum too little and we +certainly do not deem it too much. When we regain the inn at the +village, they wait about unobtrusively for their pay, and after arming +ourselves with coin for the division we come out among them. At once we +become the centre of a large and respectful assemblage, all other +loungers drawing near to witness the coming ceremony. Our informal words +of appreciation become rather a speech when delivered before so many. +The leader now approaches, and we publicly entrust him with the +division of the fund, adding, as we state aloud, our good-will and a +_pourboire_ for each. Instantly, and with, almost startling +simultaneousness, every, cap in view comes off in unison; the movement +is so general, so, immediate, and so gravely uniform, as to be somewhat +astonishing; and a satisfied and metronomic chorus of "_Merci, Monsieur, +merci bien_!" rises like a measured pæan around us. + +This little performance over, the carriages come to the fore, and we +retrace the road in the pleasant afternoon, under the Pimené, through +the Chaos, by Gèdre and the opening of the Troumouse gorge, and on down +the ravine out to the Bridge of Napoleon which leads us over to St. +Sauveur. + +The long, trim street of St. Sauveur backed against the mountain is a +resort much in favor. It is not large enough to be noisily stylish, but +in a quiet way it is select and severe. It is patronized by ladies more +than by the sterner sex. Its springs are mild, helpful for cases of +hysteria and atonic dyspepsia; and the nervous, middle-aged females who +frequent it find a grateful sedative in the air and surroundings as well +as in the springs. The hotels have the garb of prosperity, and the +location, commanding both the Gavarnie gorge and the valley of +Luz,-could not have been better chosen; in fact, headquarters for the +trip to the Cirque might be and usually are fixed here quite as +comfortably as at Luz. + +We spend a half hour about the hotels and shops as the twilight comes +on, while the carriages wait, down the road. In an unpretending shop an +old lady has just trimmed and lighted her lamp; she peers up through her +glasses as we enter, and readily shuffles across the room for her +asked-for stock of Pyrenean pressed-flowers. The dim little store proves +a treasury of these articles, and part of our half hour and part of our +hoard of francs are spent over the albums spread open by her fumbling +fingers. Then we drive off again into the dusk, join the main road, and +run restfully across the valley to end the day's ride before the lighted +windows of our chalet-hotel at Luz. + + * * * * * + +The trip to Gavarnie can thus be readily made during a day, and it is +indisputably one of the finest mountain sights in Europe. As Lord Bute, +(quoted in the _Tour Through the Pyrenees_,) cried when there, many +years ago, in old-time hyperbole, "If I were now at the extremity of +India, and suspected the existence of what I see at this moment, I +should immediately leave, in order to enjoy and admire it." Perhaps this +sentiment should merit consideration from, other seekers of noble +scenery; it was founded upon a justly sincere enthusiasm. + +To-morrow, the Pic de Bergonz shall be our goal. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. + + "Ich weiß nicht was soll es bedeuten + Daß ich so traurig bin" + + --_The Lorelei_ + + +But the Pic de Bergonz does not so elect. + +During the night the weather has another revulsion of feeling. In the +morning it is hysterical, laughing and crying by turns. We come +down-stairs booted and spurred for the ascent, and make directly for the +barometer in the doorway. Alas, it tells but a quavering and uncertain +tale, itself evidently undecided, and holding out to others neither +discouragement nor hope. An hour brings no change. The guide looks +sagely toward the clouds, as who should know all weather lore, and +candidly admits the doubtful state of the case,--which is frank, since +for him a lost excursion is lost riches. The sun streaks down fitfully +upon the road, and then after a minute the mist sifts over the spot; the +mountain-tops appear and disappear among low-lying clouds. We haunt +alternately the roadway and the writing-room, restless and inquisitive; +but as the morning wears on, it becomes slowly certain that the Pic de +Bergonz has taken the veil irrevocably. + +The Monné at Cauterets was within our grasp; we sacrificed its certainty +to the uncertainty of the more accessible peak. In the mountains, as we +are thus again shown, _carpe diem_ is a wise blazon. Still, choosing +the Monné would have postponed Gavarnie until to-day and thus have +forfeited the clear skies of yesterday's memorable trip to the Cirque. +It is always feasible to count your consolations rather than your +regrets. + +It does not rain, so we ramble off about the streets again. There is an +eminence near the village on which stand the remains of the old castle +of Ste. Marie, and which we are told gives a wide survey over the +valley; but we are out with all eminences and refuse to patronize it. We +drift again into our little shop of the hempen shoes, with soap for a +pretext; the proprietor and his wife are affable and unclouded as ever; +and we while off a half hour in another talk with them and some trifling +purchases. One learns many lessons in civility in Continental shopping; +more usually it is a woman alone who presides, some genuinely winsome +old lady often, with white cap and grandmotherly smile. The lifting of +the hat as we enter ensures invariably the politest of treatment, and +when we depart, it is with the feeling that we have gained another +friend for life. + +The village stretches itself lengthily about, as many Continental towns +do; its limbs, like Satan's, + + "Extended long and large, + Lay floating many a rood," + +and two of us later signalize a stroll by becoming _lost_,--lost in Luz. +We look helplessly down along the lanes and neat streets for the +familiar little porch over the Gave and the open space in front and the +overhanging eaves of our hotel. Gone the church, gone the store of the +shoes and soap, gone the carriage-shed, the Hotel de l'Univers,--all +landmarks gone. It is not until we are driven to the humiliation of +actually asking our way, that the alleys are unraveled and show us +safely home, into the scoffs and contumely of the unregenerate. + +After lunch, the weather is still gloomy, but there is no rain, and we +leave Luz for Barèges toward the last of the afternoon, if not in +sunshine, at least over a dry road. Some of us are on foot, so but one +carriage is needed for the others, and the Widow Puyotte stands smiling +at the door as we move away, wishing us fine weather for the morrow's +ride on from Barèges over the Col du Tourmalet,--since any further +wishes for to-day's weather would be manifestly inoperative. + +The Baths of Barèges are on the continuing girdle of the Route Thermale +as it extends its way onward from Luz toward Bigorre; they lie about +four miles up a short, desolate, east-and-west valley which opens from +the hollow of Luz and closes beyond them in a col over which goes the +road. These baths are much higher than Luz, and the way is a steady +incline throughout. The valley soon shows itself in marked change from +the fertile basin we have quitted; it grows bleak and less cultivated; +rubbly slopes of shale and slate cover the hills; the vegetation becomes +scanter. We are nearing now the Pic du Midi de Bigorre, the summit seen +so plainly from Pau, far eastward of the Pic du Midi d'Ossau. It is not +as yet in sight from this valley, however, though we are approaching it +nearly and though it closely overtops the col which rises beyond +Barèges. The road continues desolate, and the dull grey-green pastures +hardly serve to relieve its deserted and forlorn squalor. The clouds +brood on the hills, the air grows chilly as we ascend, and more than +once we sigh half dubiously for the bright parlor left behind at Luz. +We move leisurely, almost reluctantly, on, not in haste to reach the +climax of this unhospitable avenue; but the four miles shorten +themselves unexpectedly, and it seems but a short walk before we are in +sight of the Baths of Barèges. + +Murray and Madame the Widow had each spoken dishearteningly of Barèges. +With their verdict concurred also the few other accounts we had heard of +it. Murray stigmatizes it as "cheerless and forbidding," "a perfect +hospital," and remarks that "nothing but the hope of recovering health +would render it endurable beyond an hour or two." Another marks it +curtly as "a desolate village tucked into the mountain side, with +avalanches above and torrents below; in summer the refuge of cripples; +in winter the residence of bears." No one at Luz was found to say a good +word for Barèges, except as to the undoubted cures its waters effect; +and on the whole the outlook summed itself up as very far from +promising. + +In view of this abuse we have been predisposing our minds to extenuate +the shortcomings of the place and to extol rather than dispraise it. One +does not like to maltreat even a resort when it is down. But as we draw +up the hill and see the black surroundings and enter the frowsy, dismal +street, the desire to extol vanishes and even the possibility of +extenuating becomes doubtful. The carriage pauses, while two of us who +have hurried ahead examine the two hotels reputed best; each is equally +uninspiring, and the one we finally choose we thereupon immediately +regret choosing and regretfully choose the other. Meanwhile the carriage +is being circummured by an increasing hedge of idlers and invalids, +staring with great and open-minded interest at the arrival of visitors +who seemed actually healthy and were coming here uncompelled; and the +visitors themselves are glad to vanish from the public wonder into the +stone passageway of the hotel. + +Within is a large, cobble-paved court around which the hotel is built, +and out upon the upstairs veranda overlooking this we are led and +assigned to rooms. The rooms are clean, but unadorned and bare, and so +seems the hotel throughout. It is not the lack of adornment, however, +that dispirits us; Madame Baudot's at Eaux Chaudes was unadorned +likewise, and yet was an ideal of inviting comfort. Here, there seems to +be something more,--an inexplicable taint of depression over the hotel, +which strangely affects us. We struggle hysterically against it, trying +to laugh it off, speculating vainly over the dreary, disconsolate weight +which each has felt from the moment of entering the village; and at +length conclude to investigate the mystery by a survey out-of-doors. + + +II. + +It takes little time to convince us that Barèges deserves all the abuse +it has received. We came unprejudiced and in a sympathetic mood, willing +to defend the much-reviled; but we admit to each other that the revilers +have only erred on the side of timidity. The pall of the place is +unmistakable and wraps us in completely; even a genial party and +determined high spirits are slowly forced to succumb. There seems +something gruesome about it; the curious burden is not to be shaken off, +try as we may. + +The village is sorrowfully set, to begin with; the valley here is high +and more gloomy even than below; the narrowing hills, grey-black or a +sickly green, stand and mourn over their own sterility. Though it is +daylight still, the sun has long passed behind them, and the air is +chilled and mouldy. The village is merely one long, shaky street +crouching in along the side of the mountain; it is lamentably near the +torrent, for the rough Gave de Bastan just below is one of the scourges +of the Pyrenees, and each spring it tears by and even through the +street, and scours down the valley, swollen and resentful, causing +discouraging damage along its track. Many of the houses are taken down +each fall and re-erected in the summer; and as we walk on through the +street, these quavering shanties of pine combine with the jail-like +appearance of the heavier stone buildings and the harsh hills and clouds +around, all in a strange effect of utter repellence. + +But it is the people we meet who intensify the impression. No one visits +Barèges for pleasure; its extraordinary springs are the sole reason of +its existence, and only those who must, come to seek health in them. +Sad-faced invalids, who have tried other baths in vain and have been +ordered hither as a last resort; wounded or broken-down soldiers; +cripples, who stump their crutches past us down the earthen road,--these +are the ones who haunt Barèges, anxious and self-centred and unhopeful. +Style and fashion are things apart; there is not a landau to be had in +the place, and scarcely a smaller vehicle. In cold or storm, the sick +hurry from boarding-house or hotel to the bath-establishment in +close-shut sedan-chairs; on fairer days, they limp their own way +thither. Talk turns on diseases; there is no fresh news, Barèges is a +long ride from the news bearing railway; the discussions begin with this +or that spring or symptom and end in a disconsolate game at écarté. + +Truly disease is a hideous visitant to the fairness of life,--a hard +interruption to its store of joys. + +Beyond all this, however, there is a something further about +Barèges,--this incubus of depressingness, seemingly the very soul of the +spot. Sickness and dreary location will account for it in part; but many +have felt that certain subtle spirit pervading a region or even a single +house, which in part defies analysis; it is in the air; it overhangs; it +may be light and joyous and animating, or forbidding. And Barèges is a +striking instance; morbid, abhorrent, funereal, there seems here some +influence at work which is not entirely to be accounted for, yet to +which it is impossible not to yield. + +At the upper end of the street is the long, grim bath-establishment, and +we enter its stone corridors and are led about by a noiseless and +mournful attendant. Here are rows of waiting sedan-chairs; an office for +presentation of tickets; long lines of stone cells, each with its tub or +douche or vapor-box; and underground, public tanks of larger size. "I +inconsiderately tasted the spring," records a traveler of years ago, +"and, if you are anxious to know what it is like, you may be satisfied +without going to Barèges, by tasting a mixture of rotten eggs and the +rinsings of a foul gun-barrel." Our spirits fall lower and lower in this +damp impluvium; never before have we felt so grateful over our limitless +good health; we dodge out with relief into the darkening air, and, under +the beginnings of a rain-storm, thankfully slip back to the refuge of +the hotel. + +Certain it seems that if cheerful surroundings are essential to a cure, +the waters of Barèges must fail of their full mission. + +They accomplish remarkable things, notwithstanding; they are among the +strongest of the Pyrenean baths, and are particularly noted for their +power in scrofulas and grave skin-disorders, wounds, ulcers and serious +rheumatic affections. So healing for wounds are they, that the +government sustains here a military hospital for maimed and disabled +soldiers. In winter the scene is desolation. The cold is rigorous. +Avalanches pour down from the mountains on both sides and often leave +little for the spring freshets to do. Modern engineering grapples even +with avalanches; wide platforms have been cut in the rocks above the +town, on the slopes most exposed, and immense bars of iron set in them +and attached with chains. These outworks have proved themselves +surprisingly effective in breaking the force of the snowslides; but the +scent of danger is always in the air; the ledge of the town is for +months deep in drifts; the frailer houses are taken up, the rest closed +and stoutly barred; the inhabitants are gone, leaving behind a few old +care-takers to hold their lonely revels in the solitudes. + + +III. + +We sit about in the evening in the dim little parlor, and agree once +more that Barèges has not been exaggerated. We are united in will to +leave this detestable spot to its ghosts of ruin and disease, and to +leave it as quickly as we can. Our Luz driver, whom we have judiciously +retained to remain with his landau over night, appears respectfully at +the door, and is instantly instructed to be ready early in the morning +for farther progress; he looks dubious, and warns us of continuing rain; +it is nothing; we leave to-morrow in any weather. + +"Have you found us a second carriage?" I ask him. + +"Monsieur, there is but a _petite voiture_, a small wagonette, up the +street, which one could hire; it is small; if monsieur will have the +goodness to come out with me to see it?" + +So two of us sally forth into the drizzle with the driver, and a few +rods up the street turn off into an alley-way, where the wagonette is +found under a shed. It _is_ small,--deplorably small; the seat will +ungraciously hold two persons, and a stool can be crowded in in front +for a driver. There is no top nor hood of any sort, and the hotel +barometer is still falling steadily. + +But we are resolved to leave Barèges. + +"Is this the best that one can obtain?" I ask ruefully. + +"There is one other, monsieur, close by; but it is yet smaller." + +This clinches the matter, and we conclude a bargain with the proprietor +for an early departure and hurry back to the dim joys of the hotel +reception-room. + + +IV. + +The clouds themselves descend with the drizzle during the night, and we +are greeted when we wake by a white opacity of mist and fog filling the +hotel courtyard and leaking moisture at every pore. We think shiveringly +of the wagonette, but more shiveringly still of Barèges; and resolutely +array ourselves for a long and watery day among the clouds. + +Our route will continue by the Thermal Road on to Bagnères de Bigorre. +There is again a col in the way which we must cross,--the Col du +Tourmalet, a shoulder of the Pic du Midi de Bigorre, separating this +Valley of Bastan from the greater lateral Valley of Campan. It is a long +ride with the ascent and descent,--twenty-five miles at the least; but +it can be easily made in the day, and there is a midway halting-place +beyond the col for lunch. + +Our Luz landau appears promptly on the scene, comfortably enclosed and +inviting; and the ridiculous wagonette creeps up behind it, in +apologetic and shamefaced comparison. The driver of the wagonette, +however, a tough, grizzled old guide, is not shamefaced in the least, +but grins broadly and contentedly as he sits there wrapped in his +tarpaulin, wet and shiny under the steady rain. The landau soon +hospitably receives the favored majority, and disappears into the mist +up the street; and the remaining two of us turn to the wagonette,--and +turning, involuntarily catch the infection of the old guide's grin. +After all, there is a certain zest in discomfort; we clamber in and draw +the rough robe around us, unfurl our complicated Cauterets umbrella, and +agree that the truest policy is to make little of discomfort and much of +its zest. + +Old Membielle gathers the tarpaulin about his stool before us, chirrups +toward the damp steam which symbolizes a horse, and we move off +up the long, soppy street, past its houses and jails and grey +bathing-penitentiary,--and out at last from Barèges. Out from Barèges, +though into the vast unknown; and our spirits rise higher as the baleful +spell of the spot is lifted and left behind. + + +V. + +Barèges is the most convenient point for the ascent of the Pic du Midi +de Bigorre. The baths lie almost at the foot of this mountain, and one +can make the ascent in about four hours, and descending by another side +rejoin the road to Bigorre at the village of Grip, beyond the col before +us. We resign the ascent, of course, under stress of barometer; but this +climb is assuredly one of the best worth making in the Pyrenees. The +Pic is prominently seen from distant points everywhere through the +region: it is visible from Pau, from the Maladetta, from the plain of +Toulouse. Consequently these points must lie within its own ken. Its +huge, shapely dome rises 9400 feet into the air, and standing as it does +solitary and apart at the edge of the plain and not buried among rival +summits, the view from the top has been solely criticised as too vast +for detail and too high for exactness, and commands, it is said, a fifth +of all France. The ascent is easy, there being little snow upon the path +in the summer; there is a bridle-trail throughout, a small inn higher +than half way, and an observatory now erected upon the summit. + +We are only intellectually cognizant of this Pic du Midi, however, as we +jog on up toward the pass; for the driving fog curtains all the peaks, +at times lifting so far as to show the nearer slopes and perhaps the +hills ahead, but for the most part enfolding even the road and ourselves +in its maudlin affection. We pull steadily on through the morning, over +a good road and up through a still dreary region of moist, sparse turf +and shaly slopes of slate and rock and profitless débris. The occupants +of the landau, as they look down toward us at times from the turn next +above, wave dry and encouraging greetings, through the open windows; and +we wave back damper but equally encouraging greetings in return, having +found that good spirits had fallen to us with unexpected and gratifying +ease. + +Altogether it has not been in the least a long morning, when we finally +reach the crest of the Col du Tourmalet, 7100 feet in elevation, from +which begins the descent toward the Campan Valley and Bigorre. This col +is not loved by mountaineers during the winter; it is exposed to the +full sweep of storms, and is one of the wild passes on which, as the +local saying goes, "when the hurricane reigns the son does not tarry for +the father nor the father for the son." Before the Route Thermale pushed +its way over, it was but a foot-pass, wearisomely traversed in saddle or +litter by infrequent travelers or by invalids sentenced to Barèges. + +Just at the summit of the col, for a supreme minute, the clouds part at +the rear, right and left, and roll away beneath, and we catch for once +the long stretch of the desolate Valley of Bastan, with the windings of +the road reaching backward and downward along the hills. It is over +while we look; the fog writhes and twists down and all is greyness +again. + +The carriages slip rapidly down the other side, with all brakes set and +forty hairbreadth margins recorded for the outer wheels; and, an hour +from the col, we are safely at the hamlet of Grip, where the horses and +we are doomed to a two hours' halt and a lunch. The first inn, +irrationally placed in a patch of field apart from the main road, does +not look attractive from the distance, and we drive on to the second. +This one, while carefully non-committal in appearance, is at least on +close terms with the road, and as there is no third, we cheer us with +reminders of Laruns and descend. + +It is a creaky little inn, facing a wet, cobbly yard and having the air +of being retiring in disposition and somewhat surprised at the advent of +visitors. The landlady is away, it appears, and we are received by her +spouse, a mild-mannered old man who is not used to being a host in +himself but resignedly assumes the burden. The lunch is promised for the +near future. The horses are led off, the carriages covered to remain in +the road, and the driver and the jovial guide turn to and help with the +fire and stabling arrangements in a way which shows that they are +entirely at home in the locality. + +[Illustration] + +We stand for a while on the decrepit, covered balcony overlooking the +yard, exchanging humorous reminiscences of the ride, and idly +commiserating the three fowls and a wet pig which appear below. We are +absorbed too in a wooden-saboted farmhand of gigantic proportions who +clicks across the cobbles at irregular intervals and exchanges repartee +with a milk-maid in the doorway. He has a huge, knobby frame, bulging +calves, a colored kerchief turbaning his head, a rough costume +throughout, and a fascinating though belying air of desperate and +unscrupulous villainy. + +But the weather has still its tinge of rawness, and two or three of us +go down stairs again and invade the den of the kitchen, where the fire +is now under way and the inevitable omelet just in contemplation. The +old man acts as extemporary cook. He finds a black and somewhat oily +frying-pan, suspends it over the fire to heat, and throws in a handful +of salt to draw out the grease. He now looks thoughtfully about for a +rag to scour it withal; there is a rag of sooty environment and +inferentially sooty antecedents hanging beside a box of charcoals next +to the chimney-place; he horrifies some among us by promptly catching it +up; gives the pan a vigorous rubbing-out with this carboniferous relic; +and certain appetites for omelet fade swiftly away. Their losers speak +for a substitution of coffee and bread and fresh milk in lieu of all +remaining courses, and beat a hasty retreat from the scene. + +The omelet duly appears upon the lunch-table presently set for us in the +little room upstairs, and serves at least as a centre-piece, over which +to tell the story of its birth; and the coffee, excellent bread, and a +huge pitcher of new, creamy milk amply reconcile all abstainers, and +fortify us in a feeling of good-tempered toleration even for Grip. + + +VI. + +Bagnères de Bigorre is placed at the opening-out of the broad Campan +Valley, some distance out from the higher ranges and about twelve miles +on from Grip. The fog passes off as we start again, though it is lightly +raining still. In an hour or more we have finished the descent to the +floor of the valley, and for the rest of the short afternoon the road +runs uneventfully to the northward, for the most part level, and beaded +with occasional villages and lesser clumps of houses. Finally, as the +light begins to fail behind the clouds, an increased bustle on the road +and more frequent houses passed announce the nearness of our +destination, and the horses are soon trotting into Bigorre and up the +welcome promenade of the main street to the Hotel Beau Séjour. + +Past discomforts quickly recede in the warm haze of present +satisfactions. We absorb to the full the pleasant glow of the hotel +drawing-room, after we have comfortably repaired the ravages of the +day. Barèges is a grotesque phantom, and we can hardly admit that +to-night there are people still in that shuddering, shivering, +banshee-haunted line of hospitals, high in its weird valley, in the cold +and in the falling rain. Rayless and despairing their mood must be; +escape would seem immeasurably more to be prized than cure. Even the old +man of Grip and his rag brighten by comparison, and we agree in viewing +our present surroundings as a climax of utter content. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE VALLEY OF THE SUN. + + "_Baignères, la beauté, l'honneur, le paradis. + De ces monts sourcilleux_" + --DU BARTAS. + + "I hear from Bigorre you are there." + --_Lucile_. + + +An agreeable little city we find about us, the next day. Bigorre is one +of the most well-known of the Pyrenean resorts, and has a steady though +not accelerating popularity. The tide of ultra summer fashion, has +tended latterly toward Eaux Bonnes, Cauterets and Luchon in preference; +still, Bigorre, conservative and with it's own assured circle of +friends, looks on without malice at its sister spas who have come to +wear finer raiment than itself. A number of the English,--some even in +winter and spring,--frequent Bigorre almost alone of these Pyrenean +resorts, and their liking for it has made it known, beyond the others, +in their own country. The streets are shady and well lined; the houses, +frequently standing apart in their own small gardens, give a pleasant +impression of space and airiness. There are numberless shops, where we +can later replenish various needs. The pavements seem to have been built +and leveled, by MacAdam himself, as an enthusiast puts it; and +everywhere along the side of the walks bound rivulets of mountain water, +so dear to these Pyrenean towns. + +The mineral springs here are not powerful, but are useful in mild +digestive disorders and the like, and afford at least a pretext for an +idle summering, as springs will do, the world over. The Establishment is +large and well arranged, but getting well is no such stern and serious +affair at Bagnères de Bigorre as at Barèges, and here the visitors +wisely mingle their saline prescriptions in abundant infusions of +pleasure. There are drives and promenades in all directions. The Casino +offers concerts and occasional plays and operettas, and a band in the +main promenade entertains regularly the listening evening saunterers. +Rightly does the town aim still to merit the praise given by Montaigne, +who paid it a marked tribute in his writings: + +"He who does not bring along with him," observes that great French +essayist, "so much cheerfulness as to enjoy the pleasure of the company +he will there meet, [at bath-resorts,] and of the walks and exercises to +which the beauty of the places in which baths for the most part are +situated invites us, will doubtless lose the best and surest part of +their effect. For this reason, I have hitherto chosen to go to those of +the most pleasant situation, where there was the most convenience of +lodging, provision and company,--as the Baths of Banières in France." + +The cheery town is large enough to take on something quite akin to a +city-like air; it has a population of about 10,000, and in summer the +number has its half added upon it by increase of visitors and boarders. +The hotels are praiseworthy, though making little display; and a marked +attraction of the town is this wide promenade of the main street, termed +the _Coustous_,--so called, it is alleged, because anciently the +guardians, _custodes_, of Bigorre used here to pace their nightly +patrol. The Coustous is doubly lined with arching trees, and has seats +and a wide path along the centre; the carriage-ways enclose this, and +shops and cafés line the outer walks. A few squares away, another +similar promenade broadens out, likewise vivified with trees and shops +and booths. Facing this is the bath-establishment before mentioned, and +beyond, in grounds of its own, the Kursaal or Casino. Cropping up among +the houses, stout buildings older than the rest tell of the days when +Bagnères was a "goodly inclosed town," the inhabitants of which had a +hard time of it against the depredations of Lourdes and Mauvoisin and +its other robber neighbors. + +For we are among old times again at Bigorre, and many spots in the +vicinity are rife with Middle-Age incidents of robbing and righting. +This region was the plague-spot of the country for its freebooting +fortresses,--Lourdes, Mauvoisin, Trigalet, with their adventurers always +ready for a fracas,--the strongholds, as has been said, of those +logicians who + + "kept to the good old plan + That those should take who have the power, + And those should keep who can," + +and the provinces about them lived in constant worriment. This valley +especially suffered from their armed bands; now they raided some exposed +hamlet, now made prisoners of merchants or travelers on the highway, +anon swooped down here upon Bagnères and made off with money and live +stock in gratifying plenty. + +And centuries yet preceding this, the valley saw wars on a larger scale, +when Cæsar and his Romans, ploughing victoriously through Gaul, came to +the Aquitani and crushed them down into the furrows with the rest, +after repeated and furious resistance. The Romans knew too of these +springs, and there are still remains of the city,--_Vicus +Aquensis_,--which they built on this site. In the Museum are Roman +relics found while excavating, among them votive tablets recording the +donors' gratitude to the nymphs of the springs for cures effected. +Clearly, Bigorre is of no mushroom growth, but has been toughened and +seasoned by age and warfare into the just reward of its nowaday repose +and popularity. + + +II. + +It is Sunday, and there is service in the English chapel, a brief walk +away. It is conducted by the nervous, genial chaplain staying at the +hotel, who afterwards greets us cordially at the noon luncheon-hour, and +justifies our pleasure at finding a tongue which can return English for +English and with fluency. He officiates at Pau during the winter, he +tells us, and here at Bigorre during the summer; and so, in a sense, we +find, does the hotel proprietor himself, who, with his expansive wife, +owns a hotel in Pau as well as here, and conducts the former during the +winter months, when the season at Bigorre is ended. + +The day is evidently that of some special saint; the population is out +in its brightest hues. Saints are in great authority with these people; +their recurrent "days" fill the calendar; their ascribed specialties are +as various as were those of the minor Greek or Egyptian deities. All is +in reverence, be it added; canonization is a very sacred thing with the +Catholic peasant. The power even of working ill seems to be, in curious +ignorance, at times attributed to certain of these saints; "I have seen +with my own eyes," relates a native Gascon writer, M. de Lagrèze, "a +woman who, wishing to disembarrass herself of her husband, demanded of a +venerable priest, as the most natural thing in the world, that he should +say a mass for her to _St. Sécaire_; she was convinced that, this saint, +unknown to martyrology, had the power of withering up (_sécher_) and +killing troublesome individuals, to accommodate those who invoked his +aid."[27] + +[27] "This woman," naively adds the writer, "irritated at the refusal of +the priest, showed that she could dispense with saintly help in the +matter altogether: she killed her husband herself, with a gun." + + +We take another walk in the afternoon through the streets of the town, +and afterward compare international notes once more with our cordial +English clergyman. It is renewedly grateful to hear again the mother +tongue spoken understandingly by a stranger. The utter and unaccountable +absence of our own countrymen's faces and voices from these Pyrenean +resorts gives one constantly a touch of regret. One longs occasionally +for the crisp American greeting,--the quick lighting-up, the national +hand-shake, a comparison of adventures. Saving by two compatriots met in +Biarritz, we have found our nation entirely unrepresented in or near the +summer Pyrenees. + + +III. + +Bagnères is too far to the northward to be in touch with true mountain +expeditions. Its only "star" in this line is the majestic Pic du Midi de +Bigorre, which, being itself an outlying peak, is much nearer us than +the main range and is often ascended from Bigorre,--a conveyance being +taken to Grip and the start on foot or horseback made from that point. +There are, besides, a number of lesser mountains about, and drives and +longer excursions unnumbered. A rifle perhaps most recommendable, though +not always mentioned in the hand-books, is one that will bring us back +again for a day to the times of our rascally acquaintance, Count Gaston +Phoebus, and his contemporaries. This is to the castle of Mauvoisin +before mentioned,--"_Mauvais voisin_,"--"bad neighbor," as it abundantly +proved itself to Bigorre. It lies but ten miles away, in a northeast +direction; it is reached best by the carriage-road, and the trip can +readily be made in a half-day. This was one of the Aquitaine fortresses +which with Lourdes, it will be remembered, fell into the hands of the +English, about the middle of the fourteenth century, as part of the +ransom of King John of France. Raymond of the Sword was appointed its +governor, and a right loyal sword did he prove himself to own. But +Mauvoisin could not resist siege as Lourdes could. The Duke of Anjou was +soon at it, determined to recapture it for the French, and after a stiff +course of starving and thirsting, the garrison surrendered and Mauvoisin +came back to the French flag. + +It was near this spot that a peculiarly savage and yet ludicrous fight +once occurred. It was during the same robberesque period,--about the +middle of the fourteenth century; and Froissart gives us an animated +account of it; he was on the way to Orthez through this very region, and +his traveling companion tells him of the event as they pass: + +A party of reckless men-at-arms, bent on mischief and plunder, had +sallied out from Lourdes, it seems, on a long foray. They were a hundred +and twenty lances in all, and they had two dashing leaders, Ernauton de +Sainte Colombe and Le Mengeant de Sainte Basile,--the latter well +called the Robin Hood of the Pyrenees. They were all men whose very +breath of life was in thieving and combat. The band had "lifted" an +abundance of booty; they had exploited the country as far even as +Toulouse, "finding in the meadows great quantities of cattle, pigs and +sheep, which they seized, as well as some substantial men from the flat +countries, and drove them all before them." + +The Governor of Tarbes and other knights and squires of Bigorre heard of +this mischief and determined to attack the marauders. They assembled at +Tournay, a town not far from Bigorre and close by Mauvoisin, and counted +up two hundred men. Among them was our athletic celebrity, the Bourg +d'Espaign, the same who carried the ass and wood upstairs, that +Christmas Day at Orthez. He was a regiment in himself, "being well +formed, of a large size, strongly made and not too much loaded with +flesh; you will not find his equal in all Gascony for vigor of body." At +Tournay they prepared to lie in wait and spring on the thieving band as +it returned. + +The Lourdes roughs had wind of the ambush on their homeward way. They +were quite as ready for a fight as a foray, but prudently divided their +numbers: one detachment was to drive the booty around by the bridge +half-way between Tournay and Mauvoisin and thence on through by-roads; +while the main band was to march in order of battle on the high ground +and so draw the attack. Both sections were later to meet at a point +beyond, from whence they would soon be safely at Lourdes. "On this they +departed; and there remained with the principal division Ernauton de +Sainte Colombe, Le Mengeant de Sainte Basile, and full eighty +companions, all men-at-arms; there were not ten varlets among them. They +tightened their armor, fixed their helmets, and, grasping their lances, +marched in close order, as if they were instantly to engage; they indeed +expected nothing else, for they knew their enemies were in the field." + +The Bourg and his friends scented the stratagem in turn, and promptly +divided themselves likewise. He himself with one division guarded the +river passage, which they suspected the cattle and prisoners would be +sent around to cross. The other division, under the Governor of Tarbes, +took the high ground. + +At the Pass of Marteras, not far from the castle, the governor's +division met the main body of the enemy. "They instantly dismounted, and +leaving their horses to pasture, with pointed lances advanced, for a +combat was unavoidable, shouting their cries: 'St. George for Lourde!' +'Our Lady for Bigorre!'" + +Now it is to be remembered that fighters in those days were often cased +in armor from crown to sole,--a preposterous armor, burdensome and +unwieldy, but almost utterly invulnerable. Sword-blows might dint it for +hours without doing damage; the danger in battle lay chiefly in simple +over-exertion. This gives the ludicrous point to the demure narration +made to Froissart by his companion: + +"They charged each other, thrusting their spears with all their +strength, and, to add greater force, urged them forward with their +breasts. The combat was very equal; and for some time none was struck +down, as I heard from those present. When they had sufficiently used +their spears, they threw them down, and with battle-axes began to deal +out terrible blows on both sides. This action lasted for three hours, +and it was marvelous to see how well they fought and defended +themselves. When any were so worsted or out of breath that they could +not longer support the fight, they seated themselves near a large ditch +full of water in the middle of the plain, when, having taken off their +helmets, they refreshed themselves; this done, they replaced their +helmets and returned to the combat, I do not believe there ever was so +well fought or so severe a battle as this of Marteras in Bigorre, since +the famous combat of thirty English against thirty French knights in +Brittany. + +"They fought hand to hand, and Ernauton de Sainte Colombe was on the +point of being killed by a squire of the country called Guillonet de +Salenges, who had pushed him so hard that he was quite out of breath, +when I will tell you what happened: Ernauton had a servant who was a +spectator of the battle, neither attacking nor attacked by any one; but +seeing his master thus distressed, he ran to him and wresting the +battle-axe from his hand, said: 'Ernauton, go and sit down! recover +yourself! you cannot longer continue the battle.' With this battle-axe, +he advanced upon the squire and gave him such a blow on the helmet as +made him stagger and almost fall down. Guillonet, smarting from the +blow, was very wroth, and made for the servant to strike him with his +axe on the head; but the varlet avoided it, and grappling with the +squire, who was much fatigued, turned him round and flung him to the +ground under him, when he said: 'I will put you to death if you do not +surrender yourself to my master.' + +"'And who is thy master?' + +"'Ernauton de Sainte Colombe, with whom you have been so long engaged.' + +"The squire, finding he had not the advantage, being under the servant, +who had his dagger ready to strike, surrendered, on condition to deliver +himself prisoner within fifteen days at the castle of Lourde, whether +rescued or not. + +"Of such service was this servant to his master; and I must say, Sir +John, that there was a superabundance of feats of arms that day +performed, and many companions were sworn to surrender themselves at +Tarbes and at Lourde. The Governor of Tarbes and Le Mengeant de Sainte +Basile fought hand to hand, without sparing themselves, and performed +many gallant deeds, while all the others were fully employed; however, +they fought so vigorously that they exhausted their strength, and both +were slain on the spot. + +"Upon this, the combat ceased by mutual consent, for they were so worn +down that they could not longer wield their axes; some disarmed +themselves, to recruit their strength, and left there their arms. Those +of Lourde carried home with them the dead body of Le Mengeant; as the +French did that of Ernauton to Tarbes; and in order that the memory of +this battle should be preserved, they erected a cross of stone on the +place where these two knights had fought and died." + +At the bridge, a few miles away, the other sections met, and belabored +each other as vigorously as did those at the pass. The Bourg d'Espaign +performed wonders: "he wielded a battle-axe, and never hit a man with it +but he struck him to the ground. He took with his own hand the two +captains, Cornillac and Perot Palatin de Béarn. A squire of Navarre was +there slain, called Ferdinand de Miranda, an expert man-at-arms. Some +who were present say the Bourg d'Espaign killed him; others, that he +was stifled through the heat of his armor. + +"In short, the pillage was rescued and all who conducted it slain or +made prisoners; for not three escaped, excepting varlets, who ran away +and crossed the river by swimming. Thus ended this business, and the +garrison of Lourde never had such a loss as it suffered that day. The +prisoners were courteously ransomed or mutually exchanged; for those who +had been engaged in this combat had made several prisoners on each side, +so that it behooved them to treat each other handsomely." + + * * * * * + +"Such," laughs Johnson, "was a fight of men-at-arms in the Middle +Ages,--derived from the graphic description of Froissart, in whose +narrative there always runs an undercurrent of sly humor when portraying +the military extravagances of the age. And it is impossible to avoid the +contagion; for who can picture in any more serious style a hurly-burly +of huge, iron-clad, suffocating, perspiring warriors, half blinded with +helmet and visor and scarce able to stir beneath the metallic pots +encompassing them around; belaboring and hustling each other about with +weapons quite unequal to reach the flesh and blood within, till, out of +breath and blown with fatigue, they sate down as coolly as they could +and refreshed themselves; then getting up again, again drove all the +breath out of their bodies,--and all without doing the least mortal +harm, unless somebody died of the heat or was smothered to death in his +own armorial devices." + + +IV. + +This Le Mengeant, the worthy killed in his armor, as above recorded, at +the Pass of Marteras, had been the hero of more than one bedeviling +exploit during his career thus untimely cut off. One I cannot forbear +giving, told in these Chronicles and retold with charming gusto by the +writer above mentioned. Le Mangeant, it would seem, had evidently "a +strong notion of the humorous in his composition. One time, he set out, +accompanied by four others, all with shaven crowns and otherwise +disguised as an abbot and attendants going from upper Gascony to Paris +on business. Having reached the Sign of the Angel at Montpelier, a +suitable hostelry for such holy men, they soon gained much credit for +their saintly deportment and conversation; insomuch that a rich man of +the city, Sir Béranger, was fain to avail himself of their company and +ghostly comfort by the way. We say nothing of the generosity which +prompted the holy father to offer Sir Béranger an escort free of all +expense, so much was he captivated by that gentleman's charming society. +One can imagine the sly winks and contortions interchanged by this pious +party as the victim fell into the trap. But no amount of imagination can +ever do justice to the features of Sir Béranger, when, three leagues +from the city, the right reverend prelate and his apostolic brethren +threw off the mask with peals of un-canonical laughter, led the wretched +cit off to Lourdes through crooked by-roads, and there extracted from +his disconsolate relatives five thousand francs of ransom,--which they, +holy men, doubtless devoted to the purposes of their order. There is a +story for a rhymer Sherwood forest could not beat! + +"It is but proper to set society right as to those gallant days of +chivalry, when knights fought for the love of ladies' eyes and glory +that lived for ever. More practical men are hardly to be found in +business to-day, for they never lost sight of that grand maxim, to 'get +money.' '_Quærenda pecunia primum, virtus post nummos_' was a motto each +knight might have much more truly borne upon his shield than the +charming bits of brag and sentiment cunningly designed for that purpose +by accommodating heraldry. Money they got, honestly if they could, but +they got it; and to do them justice they spent it right jovially, as all +such gallant spirits do when they are disbursing what does not belong to +them. After all, time only alters the characters in the Drama,--the plot +is pretty much the same; and with a suburban villa for a château, a face +of brass for a coat of iron, and a steel pen for a steel sword, your +gallant knight of to-day storms his bank or plunders his neighbors from +an entrenched joint-stock fortress or leads on his band to surprise the +public pocket from some tangled thicket of swindling,--just upon the +same principles as our old Pyrenean friends." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE INTERLAKEN OF THE PYRENEES. + + "_Perle enchâssée au sein des Pyrénées + Par l'ouvrier qu'on nomme l'Éternel, + Je te prédis de belles destinées; + L'humanité te doit plus d'un autel. + Car l'étranger dans ta charmante enceinte + Trouve toujours, suivant son rang, son nom, + Le bon accueil, l'hospitalité sainte, + Que sait offrir l'habitant de Luchon_." + +--_Local Ode_. + + +We now prepare for the last and longest drive on the Route +Thermale,--that from Bigorre to Luchon. The distance is forty-four +miles; the journey can be made in one long day, but owing to the amount +of work for the horses "against collar," it is wiser to break it into +two. This can be done at the village of Arreau, the only practicable +resting-place between. There are two severe cols to cross on this trip, +one on this side of Arreau, the other beyond; the first is the most +noted of all the Pyrenean cols for the immense and striking view it +commands. This pass, the _Col d'Aspin_, is but a morning's drive from +Bigorre, and is often made an excursion even by those not going to +Luchon. Another mode of reaching Luchon from Bigorre is by rail, both +places being at the end of branches from the main line. But the charm of +mountain travel is in these magnificent roads, and few loving this charm +would wisely sacrifice it to a mere gain in time. + +Allotting, then, two days for the journey, we are not impelled to drive +off from Bigorre at any unseasonably early hour. In fact it is verging +upon noon when the start is made. Our Tourmalet conveyances have long +since gone back, and we have a fresh landau and victoria duly chartered, +with two strong and capable-looking drivers. For the first half hour or +more the road retraces its steps down the valley toward the foot of the +Tourmalet, only breaking off at the village of Ste. Marie. Through this +we had passed in the late afternoon rain of the drive from Barèges, and +here our present road strikes away from the Barèges route and directs +its way toward the Col d'Aspin. + +The Vale of Campan, in which we are running, has long had its praises +appreciatively sung. It is fertile and smiling, but we decide that it +does not vie with the Eden of Argelès. The remembrance of that happy +valley under the full afternoon sun, as we saw it in driving to +Cauterets, diverse in its sweet fields and silenced fortresses, will +long hold off all rival landscapes. The road twines on between pastures +and rye-fields, as we approach again nearer and nearer the mountains, +and after an easy two-hour trot, we are drawn up before the little inn +of Paillole, the last lunching-station before crossing the col. Here is +found the tidy air of nearly all these little hostelries, and our +confidence in them, born at Laruns and nowhere as yet injured save by +the demon kettle-rag of Grip, finds nothing here to further cripple it +in any way. There is an old man at hand to greet us, as at Grip, but his +wife is by, as well, and her alert, trim manner is alien to all sooty +napery. It is always unfair to carry over a suspicious spirit from past +causes of suspicion; and we prudently refrain from tampering, by +reminiscence, with present good impressions. + +Pending the preparation of the repast, we wander out about the grounds. +The Campan Gave is sufficiently wide to be called a river, and flows at +the rear of the hotel kitchen-garden in a broad, rock-broken bed. It is +pleasant to stand by its cool, firm rush, and grow alive to the sound of +it and to the pushing of the wind and to the white and blue of clouds +and sky framing the sunshine. Cities and city life fall so suddenly out +of sight, as an unreal thing, in the presence of these rustlings of +Nature's garments. + +From this winning little olitory plot here at the side of the house by +the river, we can see under an arbored porch the kitchen itself, open to +the world. The old woman is at work within, as we can also see, at the +needful culinary incantations; and assisting her with single-minded but +safely-controlled zeal is her husband the landlord, aproned for the +occasion. + +But nearer by, close to the stream, our host has a flooded trout-box, +and he presently comes stumbling out to it along some rough boards +thrown down for a path. He unlocks the padlock, opens the lid, and we +group around to witness the sacrifice,--innocent speckle-sides butchered +to make a Pyrenean holiday. There is no fly-casting, no adroit play of +rod and reel; the old gentleman plunges in his bare arm, there is a +splashing and a struggle, and his hand has closed over a victim and +brings it up to the light,--a glistening trout, alive, breathless, and +highly surprised and annoyed. He takes the upper jaw in his other thumb +and forefinger and bends it sharply backward; something breaks at the +base of the skull and the fish lies instantly dead. This painless mode +of taking off is new to us, and we concur in approving its suddenness +and certainty. And so he proceeds, until the baker's dozen of trout lie +on the boards at his feet. Then he closes and locks the box, bows to the +spectators, and retires with the spoils; while we go back to our +communings with the river and the garden. + + +II. + +It is a trifle later than it should be when we finally start afresh; and +newly-come clouds are moping about the mountains and banking up +unwelcomely near the hills of the col ahead. The ascent begins at once +in long, gradual sweeps, and for an hour as we ride and walk +progressively higher, the view of the valley behind lessens in the haze, +and the clouds in front become thicker and thicker. There is then a +straight incline toward the last, of a mile or more; the notch of the +col is sharp-cut against the sky just ahead, and we hurry on to gain a +shred at least of the vanishing view before it is too late. In vain; we +are standing upon the Col d'Aspin,--a herd of cloud-fleeces wholly +filling the new valley ahead and now whitening also the Campan Vale +behind us. + +This is not such an irremediable disappointment as might appear. We +resolve now and here to outgeneral circumstances. The view from the Col +d'Aspin is unquestionably too fine to be lost, and we decide to return +from Luchon to Bigorre by this same route, instead of leaving by rail. +Thus we shall recross this col; and vengeful care shall be taken to +await a flawless day for the crossing. + +So we get into the carriages again and speed off down the long slopes +which lead into the Arreau basin, grimly regarding the clouds and +promising ourselves recoupment to the full. By the road, it is five +miles before the carriages will be on level ground again, and three +miles thence to Arreau. The drivers point out a short-cut down the +mountain, and some of us are quickly on foot, crossing the road's great +arcs with steep descent, stepping lower and lower over pastures and +ploughed ground and through reappearing copses and thickets, until we +are at last upon the road again in the floor of the valley. Here at a +stone bridge the party finds us, and soon after, all are bowling into +Arreau and traversing its one long street to the low door of the Hotel +d'Angleterre. + +There is naught of the pretentious about the Hotel d'Angleterre. It is +listless and antique and not worldly wise, but we very soon find that it +is in good order and quite able to entertain Americans unawares. There +is a stone hallway with a large, square staircase in the centre; +upstairs, the rooms, though low-ceiled, are commodious and airy; and we +find a tolerable reception-room below, near the entrance. In the rear is +a charming garden of terraces and rose-beds and flat-topped trees and +odd nooks for café-tables; and later in the evening a neat service of +tea and tartines brightens our pathway to the wider gardens of sleep. + + +III. + +Arreau, as we find it in the morning, has little more to show than the +long street through which we drove on arrival. Age-rusted eaves overhang +the white-washed walls of the houses; there are queer, primitive little +shops and local _cabarets_ or taverns, the latter sheltering their +outside benches and deal tables behind tall box-plants set put in +stationary green tubs upon the pavement. Midway down the street is a +venerable market-shelter, a roomy structure consisting simply of a roof +and countless stone pillars. Its parallels may not infrequently be seen +elsewhere in Europe,--as at Lucerne and Annécy and Canterbury; there is +no side-wall, no enclosure; all is public and out of doors, a habit of +many years back, and on market-days it is the centre of interest for the +entire district. There is little to tempt, in the stores; beyond dry +tablets of Bayonne chocolate and some time-hardened confectionery sold +in a musty little shop below the church, we find nothing to buy +combining the interest and lastingness of a proper memento. Arreau is in +short an old-fashioned town in all particulars, unawakened even by the +thoroughfaring of the Route Thermale. + +[Illustration: "THERE IS NAUGHT OF THE PRETENTIOUS ABOUT THE HOTEL +D'ANGLETERRE."] + +The church, with its sculptured arms and round chancel, is another work +of the Templars,--one of several in this valley, for the territory was +once assigned by a Count of Bigorre to their order, and one town in the +district, Bordères by name, was even erected by them into a commandery. +On the destruction of the order in 1312, nearly all the Templars +throughout the county of Bigorre, with their commander, Bernard de +Montagu, were seized, and were executed at Auch and their possessions +confiscated. Afterward, the valley passed to the Counts of Armagnac, +whose wickedness and family pride were intense enough to have prompted +that most transcendent of boasts, "In hell, we are a great house!" and +who waged more than one stiff feud with Béarn and the Counts of Foix. + +We drive off toward Luchon after the survey, not leaving a final +farewell, since we shall pass through once more in returning to cross +again the Col d'Aspin. The col before us now, cutting off the Arreau +valley from that of Luchon, is the _Col de Peyresourde_, the last of the +throes of the Route Thermale; and up the sides of the mountain the +carriages unceasingly climb during the forenoon until the crest is +reached. From this the road lowers itself again by the usual complicated +zigzags. The dauntless Highway of the Hot Springs here completes its +work and allows itself a last well-earned rest along the smoother +valley, until by two o'clock we see it find its final end in the broad +avenue leading into Luchon. + + +IV. + +Luchon is easily the queen of all these beautiful Pyrenean resorts. We +very soon concur in this. I have called it the Pyrenees Interlaken, and +this perhaps describes it more tersely, than description. It is in fact +surprisingly like Interlaken; its broad, arbored highways or _höhewegs_, +its rich hotels, its general enamel of opulence and leisure, suggest the +charm of that Swiss paradise at every turn. Only the great glow of the +Jungfrau is missing; but one need not go far, as we shall later see, to +view almost its full equal. + +"It is not possible to be silent about Luchon," declares the +enthusiastic essayist who described so appreciatively the fair valley of +Luz, "Luchon is a capital. No other place in the world represents beauty +and pleasure in the same degree; no other town is so thoroughly typical +of the district over which it presides. One can no more imagine the +Pyrenees without Luchon than Luchon without the Pyrenees; neither of +them is conceivable without the other; together, they form a picture and +its frame. A region of loveliness, amusement and hot water needed a +metropolis possessing the same three features in the highest degree; in +Luchon they are concentrated with a completeness of which no example is +to be found elsewhere. No valley is so delicious; nowhere is there such +an accumulation of diversions; nowhere are there so many or such varied +mineral springs. If it be true that a perfect capital should present a +summary of the characteristics and aspects of its country, then Luchon +is certainly the most admirable central city that men have built, for no +other represents the land around it so faithfully as Luchon does. +Neither Mexico nor Merv, nor Timbuctoo nor Lassa, nor Winnipeg nor +Naples, attain its symbolic exactness." + +We find super-luxurious quarters at the Richelieu, one of the handsomest +of the handsome hotels, and groan at the narrowing limitations of the +calendar. Before us is a wide, leafy park, with rustic pavilions, and an +artificial lake enlivened with swans; these grounds are a constant +pleasure; you stroll under the trees and listen to the music and see all +humanity unroll itself along the paths about you. Here stands the +Establishment, a low, many-columned building, whose effect from without +is unusual and pleasing. Within, the noticeable feature is the great +entrance stairway and hall, the latter with the proportions, of a Roman +church and adorned with wall-paintings in large panels. Beyond, still in +the park, is a graceful rustic kiosque, where other than sulphureous +drinks are dealt out and where many people contrive to linger in +passing. Here, in the mellow afternoon, Luchon is unfurling itself, as +we saunter along; the broad space abutting on the Establishment is the +focus of the throng, silk-sashed children are playing, boy's selling +bonbons or the illustrated papers, fashionable French messieurs and +mesdames and mesdemoiselles taking the air and portraying the modes. + +We turn to the right, and emerge from the park, into the main promenade +of the town. This is the Allée d'Étigny. It sets the type of these noted +Luchon streets,--unusually broad, overhung with a fourfold row of +immense lime-trees, and bordered with hotels and with enticing and +polychromatic shops and booths quite equal to those of Interlaken. These +wide Allées give to the village one of its individual charms. There are +several of them,--among others, the Allée de la Pique and the Allée de +Piqué, starting one from each end of the Allée d'Étigny; these meet in +an irregular figure, edged by villas and _pensions_, and everywhere +green and shaded. Others lead out along the streams. This plenitude of +shade is another of the place's attractions; foliage is nowhere more +abundant; trees stock the park, the streets, all the avenues of +approach,--their cool canopy gratefully filtering the July sun. + +The D'Étigny is clearly the chief of the Allées, and we make slow +progress past its tempting booths and flower-stalls and solider +emporiums. Promenaders are out in force; carriages are rolling forth +from the town for a late afternoon drive or returning from an earlier; +the omnibuses come clattering up from the arriving train; we have +scarcely found such a joyous stir south of the boulevards of Paris. + +It is of its own kind, this midsummer fashion, and, whether in its beach +or mountain homes, as worthy to be absorbed and appropriated in its turn +as the antiquity of Morlaäs or the silence of the Cirque. We enjoy it +unresistingly, as we idle down the bright street, eyes and ears alert to +its beauties and its harmonies. + +But there is the seamy side to Luchon, as to many things on earth: you +go but a few paces from these opulent Allées and you find poverty. +Frowsy women stare at us from rickety houses in the old part of the +town; children, no longer silk-sashed but dirt-stained and ignorant, +play in the mud-heaps; patient old tinkers and cobblers are seen in the +dim shops at work. The very poor rarely gain by the growth of their +neighbors. These in Luchon seem not to feel envy, but they have no part +nor heart in the pride of civic progress around them. They keep on along +their stolid, uncomplaining ways, having long ago faced the fact that +they were immovably at the bottom of Fortune's wheel, and having +forgotten since even to repine over it. + +Turning off into the second Allée of the triangle, we find ourselves +presently in view of the Casino, which stands back in a park of its own, +set in trees, and possessing a theatre and concert-room, drawing-room or +conversation-hall, and the usual café and reading-apartments. There is +opera every second night and a small daily entrance-charge to the +building, which may be compounded by purchasing a ticket for the month +or the season. + +The remaining avenue crosses back to the beginning of the first, ending +with a long building given up to a species of universal bazaar, whose +divisions and stands, festooned with crimson cambric, display +confectionery, worsted goods, paper-weights of Pyrenean marbles, and +nick-nacks of high and low degree. Opposite is a large store +comfortingly called "Old England"; it augurs the presence and patronage +of at least a few of the British race at Luchon, and offers a homelike +stock of Anglo-Saxon goods. The walk has brought us out once more at +the corner facing our hotel, and the hour for table-d'hôte strikes +elfinly on the ear. + + +V. + +Luchon owes much to one man. This was a certain Intendant of the +province and of Bigorre arid Béarn, who lived about the middle of the +last century and was the most practical and enterprising governor the +region ever had. The Luchonnais honor the name of the Baron d'Étigny. He +believed in his Pyrenees; he believed in their future, and set himself +to speeding it with all his heart. He not only expended his salary but +his private fortune; he wrought extraordinary changes in facilities both +for trade and travel, and, curiously enough, made an extraordinary +number of enemies in doing so. Towns and districts were spurred up to +their duty; tree-nurseries established, agriculture stimulated, sheep +and merinos and blooded horses imported for breeding; lawlessness found +itself, suddenly under ban; and in especial, paths and roads were cut +through the country in all directions, two hundred leagues of them, +opening up to trade and fashion spot after spot only half accessible +before. Thus Eaux Chaudes, Cauterets, St. Sauveur, Barèges, Luchon, +previously gained only by footways, were by D'Étigny made accessible for +wheeled vehicles; uncertain trails were made over into good +bridle-paths; and routes also over some of the cols were begun which +have been since gathered up into the sweep of the Route Thermale. + +On Luchon particularly, D'Étigny's kind offices fell; and Luchon +resented them the most acridly. But the fostering hand was quite able to +close into a fist. D'Étigny pushed his plans firmly, despite +opposition. Pending the construction of a road from Montréjeau opening +full access to the valley, the town itself was taken in hand. The main +street, now the Allée d'Étigny, was projected; the springs,--from which +the town was then some little, distance away,--were rehabilitated; and +to replace the rough path leading to them he proceeded to level the +ground between and open three additional avenues, each planted with +quadruple ranges of trees. But this last innovation wrought trouble; it +focused the growing opposition; every chair-carrier and pony-hirer in +Luchon, together with every owner of the lands condemned, spitefully +resented the opening of the new routes. Combining with the neighboring +mountaineers, they rose one night and utterly demolished all three of +the avenues, uprooting the young trees, leaving the ways strewed with +débris and wholly impassable. + +D'Étigny calmly built them up anew, and with increased care. + +They were demolished again. + +Even the Intendant's patience failed then. He built the roads the third +time, but in addition to trees he studded them with troops. + +They were not molested after that. Their enemies found they had a man +against them who meant what he said and was prepared to stand by it. +Eventually they veered around even into respect; Luchon in the end grew +to rejoice in her Allées unreservedly; they stand to this day, and +D'Étigny's name is all but canonized under the lindens which once heard +him vigorously cursed. + + +VI. + +Luchon is undoubtedly over-petted. The belle of the spas is a +trifle spoiled. The inblowing of fashion has been fanning her +self-appreciation for years. Prices are crowded to the highest notch, +for the season is short and one must live; the hotels are expensive, +though _pensions_ and apartment-houses mitigate this; the cost of living +is high for the region, though always low when judged by home standards; +articles in the shops are chiefly of luxury, and even carriages and +guides are appraised at advanced rates. It is the extreme of French +fashion which comes to Luchon. Eaux Bonnes and Cauterets are close +rivals, but Luchon is the queenliest of the triplet. As a consequence, +the place shows a touch of caprice, of vanity, even of arrogance; +prosperity is a powerful tonic, but sometimes its iron enters into the +soul. + +Notwithstanding, the bright little town ends by enchaining us +completely. During the days we pass in its Allées and vallées, we come +to agree that there could be fewer more captivating spots for a summer +wanderer, singly or _en famille_, seeking a six weeks' resting-place in +the mountains. It will grow at length into the recognition of the +English and Americans, now so unaccountably unknowing of this +mountain-garden; the prediction lies on the surface that in time it must +open rivalry almost with that much-loved Interlaken it so happily +resembles. + +The finishing charm of Luchon is its nearness to the great peaks. Ice +and snow are but scantily in sight from the valley itself, but a short +rise upon any of the surrounding hills shows summits and glacier fields +on all sides but the north, and more ambitious trips quickly place one +among them. The range culminates in this region; from east and west it +has been gradually rising to a centre, and south from Luchon it finds +its climax, attaining in the bulky system of the Maladetta to its full +stature of over eleven thousand feet. This mountain mass is the lion of +the Pyrenees. It lies in Spanish territory, on the other side of an +intervening chain; but from a noted port in the crest of the latter, +three hours from the town, the eye sweeps it from base to brow, and its +ascent is made from the Luchon valley as headquarters. + +There is a peculiar attraction in the proximity of the highest mountain +of a range. But if Luchon in this resembles Chamouni, in all other +respects it holds its parallel with Interlaken. Here, as there, other +groups of important peaks are scattered within reach of attack; +explorations on the higher glaciers are facile; the Vallée du Lys is its +Lauterbrunnen, the Port de Vénasque its Wengern Alp. Within reach of the +idler majority, there is a walk, a drive, or a point of view for each +day of the month. The roads now pierce every adjoining valley, and paths +climb up to all the summits that fence them in. + + +VII. + +A day or two pass uneventfully over us as we linger under the trees at +Luchon, and then we shake off the spell, to look for its mountain +neighbors. One of the peaks from which the panorama of the Maladetta +chain can be best seen is the _Pic d'Entécade_, a noted point for an +object-lesson of the mountains' relief. Some of us accordingly resolve +to ascend it. We have at last begun to recognize the truth of a +truism,--that of early rising among the mountains. Always given in all +"Advice to Pedestrians," in all "Physicians' Holidays," in all +hand-books and guides, it had worn off into a commonplace, founded +chiefly, it seemed, on _a priori_ health-saws and on repetition. But +there is reason, we find, in this worthy acquaintance, and a reason +quite apart from health-saws, for it is a weather reason. The great +proportion of these Pyrenean days, barring the rainy ones, run a uniform +career: gold in the morning, silver at noon, gold again at night. The +early mornings are brilliantly cloudless; by nine or ten o'clock the +horizon whitens,--it is the dreaded _brouillard_; faint cloud-balls are +taking shape; they roll lightly in, bounding like soap-bubbles along the +peaks, finally clinging softly about them; and by noon, though the +zenith holds still its rich southern blue, the circle of the hills is +broken, the higher summits thickly hung with misty gauze. In the late +afternoon, the breeze dislodges the intruders, and softly polishes the +rock and ice of the peaks until at dusk they are free again from even a +shred of vapor. + +Thus, even on fine days, a fine view is rare unless it is an early one. +We deplore this unhappy trait of the weather and deeply resent its +arbitrariness. But resentment is fruitless under a despotism. And there +is after all a certain glow of superciliousness in being up early; the +feat once accomplished, it brings its own reward; one feels a comforting +disdain for the napping thousands who are losing the crisp, unbreathed +freshness in the air and on the mountains; one speedily ceases +regretting the missing forty winks, as he opens eyes and lungs and heart +to the spirit of the morning. + +We accordingly arrange for an early start, not precisely resigned, but +resolved nevertheless. The guide, as instructed, knocks at our doors in +the morning, just before six o'clock. We hear the fatal words: "It makes +fine weather, monsieur;" we awake, imprecating but still resolved; we +call out a response of assent, still imprecating; nerve ourselves to +rise,--struggle mentally to do so,--struggle more faintly,--yield +imperceptibly,--forget for an instant to struggle at all,--and in +another instant we are restfully back beyond recall in the land of +dreams. + +Our resentment was stronger than we knew. + +When the carriage finally carries us out from the town, it is the fifth +hour at least after sunrise and more than three after our time for +starting. We should have had half of the Entécade beneath us, and are +but just quitting Luchon. The inevitable thin lines of mist are already +cobwebbing the horizons; but there is a good breeze abroad to-day and +the clouds are not resting so quietly in the niches as usual. So we +comfort us greatly, and the horses urge forward up the valley, +themselves seemingly full of hope that the day is not lost. + +The base of the Entécade is six miles from Luchon. For some distance the +road runs up the Vallée du Lys, whose continuance merits a separate +excursion. Then we turn off, under the old border-tower of Castel Vieil, +and soon the carriage is dodging up a cliffy hill, the road hooded with +beeches and pines and playing majestic hide-and-seek with the sharp +mountains ahead. It is only an hour and a half, and we are at the +Hospice de France. Here the road ends. The horses stop before the plain +stone structure, low, heavily built, and not surpassingly commodious, +and we alight to prepare for the climb. The building is owned by the +Commune of Luchon, which rents it out under conditions to an innkeeper; +and its object, like that of the St. Bernard, is to serve as a refuge +for those crossing the pass near which it lies. There are no monks in +it, however; it is simply a rough mountain _posada_, offering a few poor +beds in emergencies, and finding its chiefer lifework in purveying to +the Luchon tourists. + +The hospice is situated in a deep basin of mountains open only on the +Luchon side. Directly in front of it, high above us, is located the pass +referred to,--the _Port de Vénasque_: the notch in the chain from which +the Maladetta is so strikingly revealed. It is itself another noted +excursion from Luchon. A great sweep of rocky ridges rises to it, not +perpendicular but sharply inclined. There is a savage black pinnacle +shooting up on the left, remarkable for its uncompromising cone of rock, +its rejection of all the refinements of turf and arbor and even of snow. +This is the _Pic de la Pique_. On the right starts up another summit, +sharp also, though less precipitous; and the short ridge between the two +has in it the notch, itself not to be seen from below, which constitutes +this pass, the gateway into Spain,--the Port de Vénasque. + +This is one of the most used of all these mountain portals; hundreds of +persons cross it annually, herdsmen, mule-drivers, merchants with their +small caravans of horses, Spanish visitors coming to Luchon, French +tourists seeking the view of the Maladetta,--and most often of all, +despite surveillance, the shadowy contrabandista, whose vigilance is +greater than the vigilance of the law and the custom-house. We can +plainly trace the path as it zigzags upward over the snow and débris, +and can outline its general course until it vanishes into the break in +the ridge. The line of the ridge itself is just now cut out clearly +against the sky, but soft puffs and ponpons of cloud are loitering near +it with evident intentions. + +[Illustration: PIC DE LA PIQUE, AND PATH TO THE PORT DE VÉNASQUE.] + +But our present quest is the Entécade. This mountain stands farther to +the left in the circle of the basin; its own flanks hide its summit +from the hollow, so we go forth not knowing whether into the blue or the +grey. Impedimenta are abandoned, sticks are grasped, and the guide leads +to the assault. + +The path turns to the rear of the hospice and crawls up a green slope, +commanding finely the black sugar-loaf of the Pic de la Pique opposite. +As we advance, the mist has finally closed in upon the crest of the +Vénasque pass at its right; the ridge is completely hidden, and we turn +and look ahead, somewhat solicitous for our own prospects. Before us, up +the mountain, long streamers of hostile vapors are swinging over the +downs, trailing to the ground and at times brushing down to our own +level; but the wind keeps hunting them off, and so far their tenure is +hopefully precarious. There is scarcely a tree above the hospice; we +have left the line even of pines. + +An hour passes. We come to a table-land stretching lengthily forward, +covered with the greenish yellow of pastures, and alive with cattle +browsing on a sparse turf. The way winds on among the herds; we form in +close marching order, with the guide in front and spiked staffs ready +for use; for these neighbors are a trifle wild and not used to +strangers. They feed on unconcernedly, jangling their bells, but one or +two of the bulls cast inquiring glances upon us, and we prudently retire +to our pockets the bright red sashes bought in Cauterets until we have +passed the zone of porterhouse. + +In this plateau is a boundary-stone, and we pass anew into +Spain,--stopping to cross and recross the frontier several times, with +grave ceremony, and to the unconcealed mystification of the guide. The +path slopes up again, passes a dejected little mountain tarn, and +another half hour brings us to the final cone, the summit just +overhead. The mists are still whirling down, but as often lift again; +the Pic de la Pique has disappeared under a berret of cloud, but other +and greater peaks beyond it are still cloudless; so, as we push on up +the last slope of rock and scramble upon the summit, we see that the +panorama is not gone after all and that the climb will have its reward. + +For the view is a wide one from the Pic d'Entécade. The summit, 7300 +feet above the sea, is an island in a circle of valleys. The hospice +basin has dwindled into insignificance. Behind is the trough of the +Luchon depression, its floor invisible but the main contour traceable +for miles. The Valley of Aran, which opens out below us on the east, +shows the fullest reach in the view; its entire course lies under the +eye, and the lines of rivers and roads are marked as on a map, while we +count no less than fourteen villages spotting its bottom and sides. +Beyond and about roll the mountains, in swells and billows of green, +roughening into grey and the finishing white. + +But it is their culminating summit at the right that at once absorbs +attention; it is the monarch of the Pyrenees; we are looking at last +upon the Maladetta. It stands in clear view before us, well defined +though distant. It is rather a mass than a mountain; it shows no +accented, unified form; the wide crests rise irregularly from its wider +shoulders of granite and glacier, and fairly blaze for the moment in the +break of sunlight. + +At nearer quarters, as from the Port de Vénasque, the true dimensions of +the Maladetta are better realized. There one sees it from across a +single ravine, as the Jungfrau is seen from the Wengern Alp. But here +from the Entécade also, we can seize well its proportions,-- + + "In bulk as huge + As whom the fables name of monstrous size, + Titanian or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove." + +The highest point of the Maladetta, the Pic de Néthou, is 11,165 feet +above the sea. The mountain has always been regarded superstitiously; +the name itself,--_Maladetta, Maudit_, the Accursed,--tells of the +traditions of the mountaineers. For long, no one dared the ascent. +Ramond finally attempted it in 1787, but failed to gain the highest +point. In 1824, a party renewed the attempt, and were worse than +unsuccessful, for one of the guides, Barreau by name, was +lost,--precipitated into a crevasse almost before the eyes of his +son,--and the body was never recovered. This added to the evil repute of +the mountain; years passed before the cragsmen would have anything +further to do with it. It was not until 1842 that M. de Franqueville, a +French gentleman, accompanied by M. Tchihatcheff, a Russian naturalist, +and by three determined guides, successfully gained the summit,--taking +four days and three nights for the enterprise. Since then the ascent has +a number of times been made. + +This mountain is said to give forth at times a low murmuring sound +distinctly audible. + + "There is sweet music here that softer falls + Than petal from blown roses on the grass, + Or night-dews on still waters between walls + Of shadowy granite in a gleaming pass." + +"One of the most impressive features of the scene on the ridge of +Vénasque on this memorable morning," so relates one E.S., a traveler of +sixty years ago, "was the peculiar, solemn noise emitted from the +mountain. The only sound which broke upon our silence while we stood +before it without exchanging a word, was an uninterrupted, melancholy +mourning, a sort of Æolian, aerial tone, attributable to no visible or +ostensible cause.[28] The tradition of the Egyptian statue responding to +the first rays of the morning sun came forcibly to my recollection. In +her voice, this queen of the Pyrenees 'Prince Memnon's sister might +beseem,' and superstition if not philosophy might have persuaded some +that this sudden glare of brightness and warmth, glistening with +increasing intenseness on every ridge and eastern surface, might call +forth some corresponding vibrations, and therefore that the plaintive +tones we heard were in fact a sort of sympathetic music,--the +Maladetta's morning hymn." + +[28] "_Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal_, No. XVI; _The Peculiar +Noises Heard in Mountains_." + + + +Far to the west, over other ranges, the guide points out the glaciers of +Mont Perdu and the Vignemale. We are looking off also from this point +upon the beginnings of Aragon and of Catalonia; there is nothing smiling +about Spain as seen from the Entécade; sterile hills solely heap +themselves to the horizon. + +We linger on the small knoll, a few feet only in width, which caps the +mountain beneath us. Clouds scud over the summits and pass on, and turn +by turn we have seen the full view. Finally they come streaming in more +resolutely, and eventually defeat the breeze; then we turn downward at +last, at a brisk pace, race down the slopes and re-enter France; and +warily recrossing the long pasture of the corniculates, hasten on until +the hospice appears in sight once more below. + +It is far past mid-day now, and we are more than ready for suggestions +of alimentation. There is a sheltered table with benches just out of +doors before the hospice, and here we seat ourselves, flanked by with +two massive dogs, and soon are discussing a nondescript repast which is +too late for lunch and too early for dinner but which is remarkably +appetizing in either view. An hour later, we are again in Luchon, +greeted by the deferential head-waiter of the Richelieu, whose starchy +bosom expands with hourly welcome for each who comes or who returns. + + +VIII. + +There are divers other trips near Luchon which should be taken by the +time-wealthy. It is a centre of more excursions than any of the other +resorts; to count those which are _très recommandées_ alone needs all +the fingers. There is the much praised drive into the Vallée du Lys, +with its white cascades, its "Gulf of Hell," its fine view of the +ice-wastes of the Crabioules. There is the ascent to Superbagnères, an +easy monticule overshading Luchon, whose view is ranked with that from +the Bergonz. There is the day's ride through the Valley of Aran, which +opened out below us from the Entécade,--a truly Spanish valley, though +in France; its natives, its customs, its inns, all Hispanian, and +unwontedly unconventional. There is the ride and climb to the Lac d'Oo, +a mate of the trip from Cauterets to the Lac de Gaube. And for a longer +jaunt, one can remount to the Port de Vénasque and pierce down upon the +Spanish side to the village of Vénasque itself, returning next day by +another port and the Frozen Lakes. Or this trip can be prolonged by +making the tour of the Maladetta, passing on from Vénasque entirely +around that mountain system and returning within the week by still +another route to Luchon. The views on this last tour are described as +remarkable, though it is a trip seldom made; the accommodation is +doubtless uncomforting, but the tour, in outline at least, strongly +resembles the tour of Mont Blanc, which ranks with the finest excursions +in the Alps. + +In short, there is a bewilderment of alternatives, each of the first +rank in interest and heavily endorsed. Luchon is as easily the belle of +the spas in location as in beauty; and one might strongly suspect that +the charms of its climbs cure quite as many ills as its springs. Good as +the waters may be, one does not become well by drinking merely, and +sitting in wait for health; it needs precisely the invigoration of these +tempting outings to quicken languid pulses and inspire sluggish systems. + +Even in winter, many of these Pyrenees mountain-trips are entirely +practicable. The Cirque of Gavarnie is reputed a double marvel under a +winter robe, when its cascades are stiffened into ice and the eye is +lost in the sweep of the snow-fields. Cauterets is hospitable throughout +the winter, and so are both of the Eaux. Even the Vignemale has been +ascended of a February, and the more ordinary excursions can be +undertaken in all seasons. One cannot help thinking that the invalid of +Pau's winter colony could better tell over the benefits of this Pyrenees +climate if he would but test it,--if he would seek its pure, sharp, +aromatic stimulus in in-roads upon the mountains themselves, in place of +his mild promenadings along the Terrace in view of them with a heavy fur +coat on his back and another on his tongue. + +The mountains are nearer him, besides, than they formerly were. They +have been opened to approach. Once there was no Route Thermale over the +cols; no facile pass to Vénasque or the Lac de Gaube; no iron bars in +the difficult spots en the Pic du Midi d'Ossau. That day is gone by. +Parts at least of the wild mountains are tamed; danger has been driven +back, hardly the daunt of difficulty remains. D'Étigny and Napoleon and +the Midi Railroad have smoothed all the ways; there is no longer reason +to dread the lumbering diligence, the rough char-roads, the pioneer +cuttings through the pine-brakes. The buoyant mountain trips we have +touched upon, and more, are within almost instant call of every +dispirited Pau valetudinary, and of farther travelers as well. They have +but to go forth and meet them. + +That this is becoming known is shown by the yearly increasing tide of +visitors. The cultured modern world enjoys reading the book of +nature,--especially so, provided some one has cut the leaves. + + +IX. + +In the evening, we repeat the stroll down the Allée d'Étigny. The lights +twinkle brightly down upon the street; the shops are open, the hotels +lit up, the cafés most animated of all. Here on the sidewalks, around +the little iron tables, sits Luchon, sipping its liqueurs and tasting +its ices. It is the café-life of Paris in miniature,--as +characteristically French as in the capital. To "_Paris, c'est la +France_," one might almost add, "_le café, c'est Paris_." France would +not be France without it. It is its hearthstone, its debating-club, the +matrix of all its national sentiments. + +There is an "etiquette" of Continental drinks. By the initiate, the code +is rigorously observed; each class of beverages has its hour and +reason, and your true Frenchman would not dream of calling for one out +of place and time. In the cafe-gardens of the large hotels you will see +the waiters' trays bearing one set of labeled bottles before dinner and +another after; one at mid-day, another in the evening. There is also a +ritual of mixing; syrups and liqueurs all have their chosen mates and +are never mismated. + +From, an intelligent waiter in Lyons, a double fee extracted for me on +one occasion some curious if unprofitable lore on the subject, since +expanded by further queryings. The potations in-demand divide +themselves, it appears, into two main classes: _apéritifs_ and +_digestifs_. The former are simply appetizers, usually of the bitters +class, and are taken before meals. The latter, as their name shows, come +after the repast, for some supposed effect in aiding digestion. These +liquors are often, exceedingly strong, but it is to be remembered that +the quantities taken are minute; when brought not mixed with water or +syrups, a unit portion might hardly fill a walnut shell. + +The favorite _apéritifs_ are: + + Price in + centimes.[29] + +Absinthe, mixed with Orgeat and seltzer-water, 50 +Bitter, " " Curaçao " " " 50 +Vermouth, " " Cassis " " " 40 + " " " Curaçao " " " 40 + " " " Bitter " " " 40 + " " " Gomme " " " 40 +Amer Picon, " " Curaçao " " " 50 + " " " " Grenadine" " " 60 + " " " " Sirop ordinaire " 50 +Madeira, Malaga, Frontignan, Byrrh, Quina or + Ratafia, unmixed 60 + +[29] A centime is one-fifth of a cent. + + + + +After meal-time come the _digestifs_: + + Price. +Curaçao Fokyn, unmixed, 60 +Maraschino, " 60 +Kümmel, " 30 +Kirschwasser, " 50 +Chartreuse, " (yellow or green,) 60 or 80 +Anisette, with seltzer, 80 +Menthe, (Peppermint,) unmixed, or with seltzer, 50 +Mazagran, or goblet of black coffee, with water, 40 +Café noir, or small cup of black coffee, 35 + " " with Cognac, 50 +Limonade gazeuse, 40 +Bière, bock or ordinaire, 30 + +Later in the evening, the ices come into play; returning from concert or +promenade, one can choose from the following to recruit the wasted +frame: + + Price. +Sorbet au Kirsch, 80 + " " Rhum, 80 + " " Maraschino, 80 +Bavaroise au lait, 60 + " à la vanille, 70 + " au chocolat, 70 +Glace vanille or other flavors, 50 and 75 +Café glacé, 50 +Grock or Punsch, 60 + +And last, the inevitable + +Eau sucrée, with orange-flower, 35 + +The above sketchy division may perhaps add to the visitor's alien +interest in Continental café-life, showing something of its system and +rationale. These elaborate and varied concoctions, noxious and +innoxious, are not, it must be understood, tossed off in the frenzied +instantaneity of the American mode; before a tiny glassful of Curaçao +or sugar and water, the Gallic "knight of the round table" will sit for +hours in utter content, reading the papers, talking, smoking, or +clicking the inoffensive domino. Intoxication is almost unknown in the +better cafés; their patrons may sear their oesophagi with hot +Chartreuse, derange the nerves with Absinthe, stimulate themselves +hourly with their little cups of black coffee and brandy; but they never +get drunk. Frenchmen are temperate, even in their intemperance. An +English gin-mill and probably an American bar causes more besotment than +a dozen French cafés. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +OUT TOWARD THE PLAIN. + + "How the golden light + On those mountain-tops makes them strangely bright." + + --_The Pyrenees Herdsman_. + + +We revolve an unhappy fact, as we ramble on along the brilliant Allée, +this clear summer evening. We are no longer among the time-wealthy. With +Barcelona and the Mediterranean in prospect, we cannot draw further in +Luchon upon our reserve of days. The evening is flawless; the stars +blaze overhead like the burst, of a rocket; the promise of the morrow is +beyond doubt, and the Col d'Aspin is yet to be reconquered. We come back +across the park to our pleasant rooms in the Richelieu; and a conclave +ends in a summons to a livery-man and the order for carriages for a +to-morrow's return to Bigorre. + +Early rising is therefore enforced, without regard to resentment, the +next morning, for we are to drive through within the day, not making a +night's break as before at Arreau. There are thus the two hard cols to +cross, one in the forenoon, the other in the afternoon; and the horses +must have a long mid-day rest to accomplish the task. So the +Allée-d'Étigny is just taking down, the shutters, as we prepare to drive +away from the hotel; the dew is still dampening the walks; domestics are +scouring entrance-ways and windows, a few early guides and drivers look +wistfully at the departing possibilities. We are unfeignedly sorry to +leave Luchon. But we exult in compensation over an unclouded day for the +Col d'Aspin. + +By the usual mysterious Continental system of telegraphy, the fact has +spread that we are going, and even at this unseasonable hour the entire +working force of the Richelieu, portier, waiter, head-waiter, maids, +buttons, boots and bagsman line up to do us reverence. We pass from hall +to carriages through a double row of expectants. It is a veritable +running of the gauntlet, save that in running it we give rather than +receive. Unlike recipients in most other parts of Europe, however, the +servants here have the air of expecting rather than of demanding, and +take what is given more as a gift than as a right. So we depart in the +comfortable glow of benefaction, rather than in the calmer consciousness +of indebtedness baldly paid. + +We reach the foot of the first col, the Peyresourde, with views at the +left of the distant glaciers above the Lac d'Oo, wind up to the crest as +the morning wears on, and by noon have scudded down by the other side +and are again at Arreau. It is a fête-day throughout France, and as we +drive into the town we find the plain little street transformed into a +bloom of flags and flowers and tri-colored bunting. On every side, as we +stroll out later from the inn, the shops and houses are fluttering the +red, the white and the blue, colors as dear to the American eye as to +the French. Boughs and garlands festoon the archways; the neighborhood +has flocked to the town in holiday finery, the _cabarets_ or taverns are +driven with custom, the nun-like town is become a masquerader. The scene +is so different from that of the cold, grey morning on which we left for +Luchon, that we vividly see how impressions of place as of person may +change with the change of garb and mood. + +The air is warm, even sultry, but not oppressive. In fact, the +thermometer has not throughout the tour given any markedly choleric +displays of temper. The Pyrenees, lying as they do so far toward the +south, had held for us vague intimations of southern heat: linked +closely in latitude with the Riviera and with mid-Italy, we had half +feared to find them linked as well with Mediterranean and Italian +temperatures, and so far ill adapted for summer traveling. But the fear +was uncalled for. The weather has, on infrequent days, been undeniably +warm, but no warmer than the summer heat of the valleys of the Alps or +the Adirondacks. In fact, as a matter of geography, the Pyrenees lie in +the same northerly latitude as the Adirondacks themselves. In point of +elevation above the sea, the belt, even in its lowlands, is everywhere +higher than the neighboring parallels of Nice or Florence; the air is +fresher, shade and breeze are more abundant, as always among mountains; +our trip, aiding, to verify this, convinces us that apprehensions as to +excess of heat will here find gratifyingly little fulfilment. + + +II. + +We beguile the three hours' wait with a lunch, a walk, and an idiot +beggar with an imposing wen or goitre. This creature crouches +persistently by the carriages while the horses are reharnessed and we +are taking our places. The form is misshapen, the face distorted and +scarcely human; we can get no answer from the mumbling lips save a +sputter of gratitude for our sous; it is cretinism, hideous, hopeless, a +horror among these beautiful valleys, yet as in the Alps pitifully +common. + + +In the presence of this frightful disease, destroying every semblance of +fair humanity, one can see some reason also for the belief in +witchcraft and diabolism once so intense in the Pyrenees. If the body +and mind of an "innocent" can thus come to part with the last vestige of +its holy lineage, the soul of a "wicked" might with good reason seem to +be capable of growing into full fellowship with the devil himself. So +late as 1824, not far from this spot, they nearly burned an old woman +for alleged sorcery; and in 1862, one was actually so burned, in the +town of Tarbes, a few leagues away. This superstition of witchcraft has +here been strong in all eras, but it is at last becoming extinct; +cretinism, as anachronous and as horrible,--a fact, not a +superstition,--remains unaccounted for and unlessened. + + +III. + +By four o'clock, we are at the base of the Col d'Aspin and commence on +the long curves that lead to its top. The valley behind extends as we +rise; new breaks and depressions appear, branching off right and left on +all sides. After a half hour, peaks begin to peep over the hills at our +rear; they come up one by one into sight, each whiter and sharper than +the last, until the southern line is a serrate row of them, gradually +lifted wholly above the nearer hills. The promised panorama is truly +taking shape. We near at length the crest of the col. The Pic du Midi de +Bigorre will loom up beyond it, unclouded to-day, the drivers assure us, +and we watch for a glimpse at last of that mythical peak, which we have +skirted in cloud from Barèges to Bigorre and never yet once seen. We are +just below the top of the col; twenty feet farther will place the +carriages on the summit, when lo a huge rounded dome begins to rise +slowly up beyond the edge, and as we advance lifts itself into the full +form of the long sought Pic,--ten miles away to the west, yet looming +out as clearly as if but across the valley. It stands alone against the +horizon; there is no summit near to rival it; the sides are dark and +steep and almost snowless; the summit is looking down upon +Gavarnie,--upon Pau,--upon the wide march of the plains of France,--as +upon us on the Col d'Aspin, eying us with its stony Pyrenean stare. + +Behind, the southern view is now in its entirety. The full line of the +Arreau and Luchon depressions is traceable, and of all their tributaries +as well; the giant humps of the hills marshaled to form their walls. The +separate pinnacles beyond them are countless. The chief array is +compacted directly south, a fraise of bristles numbering the white +Crabioules, the Pic des Posets, the Monts Maudits,--and at the left the +summits of the Maladetta, a "citadel of silver" in a sky of gold, its +glaciers fierce against the late afternoon sun. + +At the right above the col is a wider point of view; we ascend for some +twenty minutes over the pastures to the top, led by a herd-boy. The view +now sweeps a new quarter of the horizon,--that of the northeast; and the +full plain of Toulouse is spread at our feet, shading off in the far +distance into a faint hazy transparence where a few soft clouds seal it +to the line of the sky. + + "Not vainly did the early Persian make + His altar the high places and the peak + Of earth-o'ergazing mountains." + +The Dark Ages were strangely dark in one respect: they had forgotten the +admiration for Nature. Save as to unaccustomed manifestations,--quakes +and comets and like portents,--they seem to have noticed little of her +higher or more unfamiliar moods. The sensation of the sublime was not +in their range of emotions; it is distinctively a modern growth. +Froissart traveled through this region on his way to Orthez; the +Pyrenees peaks were in sight before him, day after day, near and +distant; and they shone upon him for weeks from the hills about Gaston's +castle. Not once does he mention their presence to admire it. Scarcely +once do other writers of his or neighboring centuries notice even their +existence, except as hunting-grounds or boundary-lines; "_le spectacle +des Alpes ne dit rien à Racine, et l'aspect des glaciers fait froid à +Montaigne_." All the historian's of the time of Henry IV speak of his +having been born in "a country harsh and frightful,"--"_un pays aspre et +affreux_." Even the early troubadours and trouvères, poets and +rhapsodists, loving to admire and enlarge and extol, are silent +concerning the mountains. Despourrins, the poet of the Pyrenees, sang of +love and lyric inspiration; but he rarely looked up to seek the higher +inspiration of their hills and snows. It is inexplicable that the power +of the sublime should have been withheld from the age of romance and +poetry and nearness to nature, and bestowed in growing measure upon our +commercial and unenthusiastic era. It is not all wholly prosaic, after +all, this nineteenth century of ours, when it has so ardently this high +emotion, scorned by its intenser predecessors. + +As we descend to the carriages, facing another tall Pic which shoots up +from the farther side of the col, the sun has neared the clouds in the +west; it strikes the far-off Maladetta glaciers with a light no longer +white, but rose-tinted; the snows glow softly under it like fields of +tremulous flame; the mountains gleam almost as something supernal, as we +take a final gaze before turning away down the valley. + + +IV. + +It is the last of our midsummer drive through, the Pyrenees. We realize +it almost suddenly, and with regret. We seek to absorb and enjoy every +minute as we drive down the long hills and on through the Vale of Campan +in the evening light toward Bigorre. It is a chaotic, delightful array +of memories that our minds are whirling over and over in their busy +hoppers,--incidents and scenes, grains of legend, kernels of history, +gleanings of quick, nearer life,--all the intermingled associations now +sown for us over the region. + +Instinctively we summon up recollections of the Alps for comparison with +the mountains we are leaving. And the comparison is not found to be +entirely a sacrilege. The Alps are first and preeminent among European +mountains; the repose of their immensity, the sense of power, the +indefinable, spell they exert, lesser ranges cannot in general features +attempt to rival. But this is not to say that a lesser range, is a +wholly inferior range,--that even in this effect of immensity, of power, +it may not at certain points bear almost full comparison. The Pyrenees, +we agree, are far from lacking material for a parallel. As we think of +the briefly glimpsed cliffs of the Pic du Midi d'Ossau, or of the +ice-fields seen about the Balaïtous, the Vignemale, the Taillon, the +Crabioules, we set them in thought almost against the crags of the Mont +Cervin, or the Eismeer and the glaciers of the Bernina. We instance, as +Alpine impressions, the prospects, among others, from the Aubisque and +the Entécade; the snow-peaks, named and unnamed, in their sight, the +heights and depths revealed by the view. We traverse again the gorges +leading to Eaux Chaudes and Cauterets, and the winding road through the +Chaos; we confront the amazing wall of the Cirque of Gavarnie, which +has nothing of its own order in Switzerland that is even commensurate; +we rehearse the account of the scaling of Mont Perdu and of the outlook +from its summit, as first recorded by Ramond nearly a century since, +when he finally succeeded in that initial ascent; we recall the +descriptions of the illimitable desolations of the Maladetta fastnesses, +more recently explored by Packe and Russell; and while these are single +effects, and those of the Alps are beyond count, they are in character +not to be excluded from almost equal rank. And over all the lowlands we +throw that luxuriance of vegetation and of foliage, and a certain +softness and richness of landscape, which cannot be found nearer the +north, and which, in the contrast with the snow-peaks in sight beyond +adds so strangely to the height and aloofness of the latter,--as in the +view of the Pic de Ger from Eaux Bonnes, and the wider sweep from the +Pau Terrace or the Col d'Aspin behind us. In fine, as genial Inglis long +ago made summary, "the traveler who is desirous of seeing all the +various charms of mountain scenery, must visit both Switzerland and the +Pyrenees. He must not content himself with believing that having seen +Switzerland he has seen all that mountain scenery can offer. This would +be a false belief. He who has traversed Switzerland throughout has +indeed become familiar with scenes which cannot perhaps be equaled in +any other country in the world; and he need not travel in search of +finer scenes of the same order. But scenes of a different order,--of +another character,--await him in the Pyrenees; and until he has looked +upon these, he has not enjoyed all the charms which mountain scenery is +capable of disclosing to the lover of nature." + + +V. + +Lights twinkle out everywhere over the valley, as we roll on toward +Bigorre; every village and hamlet we pass is aglow with colored lanterns +and varied illuminations, and all the Pyrenees seem to be keeping high +holiday. Stalwart songs are resounding from porches and through the +windows of the local cafés when the carriages reach Ste. Marie; we +respond with the notes of _America_, as we drive out from the village, +and catch an answering cheer in return. Everyone is determinedly happy, +but happy or not, they have always a good word for our country. Other +songs and scenes are caught as we whirl on over the valley-road and +through the settlements; peasants peer at us from the wayside or from +the occasional chalets near by, with pleasant salute and good wishes. At +last, and with real regret, we have reached our destination; Bagnères de +Bigorre is before us, and we are speeding into its streets. + +[Illustration] + +It is here that we find the climax of the fête. The entire Promenade des +Coustous is a blaze of light. Arches have been erected, rows of tiny +glass lamps swing across from the trees, flags and bunting stream out +over the music-stand and the hotels and shops on each side. The place is +a mass of people; the bordering cafés are thronged; the band is playing +clearly above the hum and buzz, and as we enter the street it happens to +be just striking the signal for the _Marseillaise_. In an instant, the +thousands of throats join in the sound; the roll of song deepens to a +diapason; the solemn, forceful march of the melody is irresistible; all +France seems to be joining with prayer and power in her loved anthem. + +Quickly we have greeted our welcoming hostess once more, congratulated +the drivers for their good day's work, and hurried out to the +Coustous,--there to sit and sip ices and steep in the exhilaration of +the festival until far into the night. + + * * * * * + +And so ends our mountain faring; and when, the next day, we turn to the +morning train for Toulouse and the open plain, it is with anticipation +still, yet with an unrepressed sigh at leaving these mountains and +laughing valleys of the Pyrenees, of whose charms we had once so +inadequately known. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14812 *** |