Twixt France and Spain Part 4

Apples and Oranges.

WINES AND LIQUEURS.

Vin Ordinaire, Water with very little Whisky, Kirschwa.s.ser.

We were unable to procure any addition to our meal from the innkeeper, except sour bread and sugar. Our tea had to be drank without milk, as the cow had gone for a stroll up the mountain and was out of reach of the post-office. Having suggested to our host that a telegram might be of use, he disappeared grinning, and in about ten minutes the servant entered with a bottle containing the precious liquid. The shout of joy that rose to the rafters rather startled the quiet female, but it was spontaneous, not to be suppressed, and told of a happy finish to our not over sumptuous tea.

The drive from thence home was decidedly chilly, but nothing exciting happened, though occasional glimpses of the snow peaks were enjoyed, and many fine specimens of the genus bovus, dragging carts laden with trees (or all that remained of them), were pa.s.sed by the way.

The entire excursion occupied six hours and a half.

A few days afterwards our sociable circle at the hotel was much reduced, and among others the Clipper family departed. We missed Mr. Clipper greatly, for though bearing strong evidence to Darwin's theory about the face, he was a chatty companion and capital "raconteur," while his facility for remembering names, even of places visited in his youngest days, was really remarkable.

Nor could we easily spare the four sylph-like Misses Clipper, for with them vanished all hopes of delicious music in the evening. Ah, that was music! The way they played together the "Taking of Tel-el- Kebir" took us by storm. The silent march through the dead of night, the charge, the cheers, the uncertain rifle fire, and then the thunder of the cannon was so effective, that the landlord rose in haste from his dinner, and anxiously inquired if the pier-gla.s.s had fallen through the piano; rea.s.sured, he went back to his meal, but whether the "taking of the redoubt," or the "pursuit of the fugitives," or even the capital imitation of the bagpipes--which followed in due course--interfered with his digestion (it might have been a regard for his piano), we never learnt, but his face showed unmistakable signs of annoyance for the rest of the evening.

The next morning--which was Sat.u.r.day--Miss Leonards, Mrs.

Willesden, and myself took a walk to the villages of Aste and Gerde. They lie on the opposite side of the river Adour, and are within an easy walk. The market people were coming in a continuous stream along the Campan road, some in long carts crowded sardine- like, some in traps, some on donkeys, but the majority on foot. We stopped two of the most crowded carts and asked them to make room for us. The inmates of the former took it as a joke and drove off chuckling; but those in the second took the matter-of-fact view and began squeezing about, till, having a s.p.a.ce of about four inches by three, one man said he thought they could manage; however, not wis.h.i.+ng to "sit familiar," we thanked him, but declined to trouble him any further.

The first bridge over the river, built of stone, leads to Gerde and Aste, but we preferred to take the longer route, which continues along the Campan road, till, after pa.s.sing several smaller wooden bridges, it turns to the left between two houses over an iron bridge, and strikes straight into Aste. Before entering the town we glanced over in the direction of Campan, and caught a fine glimpse of the Houn Blanquo (6411 ft.), and the Pic du Midi, with a bit of the Montaigu. Aste is interesting, formerly a fief of the Grammont family; it has been a.s.sociated with not a few celebrated characters, and though that does not enhance the value of the surrounding property (since the Grammont estate is now in the market), yet of course it renders the village more worthy of a visit.

The picturesque and ivy-covered ruin is all that remains of the feudal castle where Gabrielle d'Estrelle [Footnote: So the oldest inhabitant said!] lived and loved, and whither the renowned Henry IV. (the object of that love) came over from his castle at Pau on frequent visits.

The church, with its Campan marble porch, is celebrated for the image of the Virgin which it contains, and which is greatly reverenced in the neighbourhood.

Aste was honoured with a long visit from Pitton de Tournefort, a celebrated French naturalist, and the fact is commemorated by an engraved tablet affixed to the house in which he pa.s.sed his nights.

The tablet is on the left-hand side of the main street (going towards Gerde), and the inscription--which is in verse--runs as follows:--

"Pitton de Tournefort dans cet humble reduit, De ses fatigues de jour se reposait la nuit.

Lorsqu' explorant nos monts qu'on ignorait encore, Ce grand homme tressait la couronne de flore."

MDCCCx.x.xII. M.B.

Which might be translated--

"Pitton de Tournefort when tired for the day, In this hole made his bed, on a shakedown of hay.

Our hills, long despised, he was pleased to explore, And we thank him for lib'rally paying the score!"

1832.

Taking the path leading to the right, we managed by dint of a little wading to reach Gerde, a village possessing little internal interest besides the neat church, but otherwise known to fame from the "palomieres," or pigeon-traps, worked between the trees which fringe the hills above it. During the autumn, when the pigeons are migrating, huge nets are spread between the trees, and on the approach of a flock, men, perched in a lofty "crow's nest," throw out a large wooden imitation of a hawk, at the sight of which the pigeons dip in their flight and rush into the nets, which--worked on the pulley system--immediately secure them. There are three species taken in the traps: the wood pigeon, the ringed wood pigeon, and the wild dove.

Leaving Gerde by the princ.i.p.al thoroughfare, we came back to Bagneres by the Toulouse road, pa.s.sing the Cattle Market--held in a triangular s.p.a.ce shaded with trees--on the left; and the Geruzet Marble Works, and later the Parish Church, on the right.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PALOMIeRES DE GERDE.]

With the exception of the baths or Thermes, we did not find many places of interest in the town. The old Jacobin tower, surmounted by a clock, in the Rue de l'Horloge, is all that remains of a convent built in the 15th century, but is in a good state of preservation. The theatre is part of what was formerly the "Chapel of St. John," used by the Templars. The porch over the doorway was erected in the 13th century, and is of the Transition style, utterly incongruous to the use now made of it; but this kind of sacrilege is unhappily now becoming of common occurrence! Leaving the theatre, in a short s.p.a.ce we were in the "Place des Thermes,"

where the New Casino is being built among the shrubs on the right.

The "Grand Etabliss.e.m.e.nt," which occupies the centre of the "Place," contains seven different springs, and there is another in the circular building outside, the latter being only used for drinking purposes. On the first floor of the building are the library (to the left), the geological room (in the centre), and the picture gallery (to the right). The corridors leading to the first and last are panelled with good specimens of the Pyrenean marbles, and in the same room with the pictures is a supposed model of a section of the Pyrenees--anybody gaining any information from it deserves a prize.

To the left of this establishment stands the "Hospice Civil," a fine building in grey stone.

The Carmelite Church, on the left of the road leading to Mount Olivet, where several pleasant villas are situated, is now closed, the "order" having been dispersed two years ago; so nothing is to be seen there of interest except the sculpture representing the "miracle of the loaves" over the door.

One inst.i.tution must not be forgotten, viz, the afternoon tea or coffee at Madame Cheval's. This good lady presides over a confectioner's shop opposite the end of the Hotel (Beau Sejour), in the Rue du Centre. Her cakes and coffee are good, and, thanks to our enlightened instructions, anyone taking some tea to her can have it properly made, and be provided with the necessary adjuncts for enjoying it; cream even being attainable if ordered the previous day. We spent many a pleasant half-hour there, and can well recommend others to follow our example.

Towards the end of the month Mr. H---- and his daughters moved on to Luchon, as their time was limited; and the last week saw the departure of Mrs. Willesden and Miss Leonards for England, whereat Bigorre was as tearful and miserable as a steady downpour could make it. I had serious thoughts of moving on to Luchon for two or three days myself, and a driver who had brought two men thence over the Col d'Aspin, offered to take me back for twenty francs, but learning next day that there were five feet of snow on the Col, and that Luchon was wretchedly cold, I decided to wait till later on, a decision in no way regretted.

Although during the latter part of our stay the weather was agreeable, and the influence of spring manifest, I was not sorry when the day for moving forward arrived, and though Madame Cheval, when I broke the news to her over my solitary cup of coffee, looked as concerned as she could, and murmured something to the effect that "all her customers were going away," yet with the a.s.surance that some day soon a party of us would pay her a visit, she managed to smile again!

CHAPTER III.

LOURDES.

The Journey to Tarbes--The Buffet and the n.i.g.g.e.r--Lourdes Station in the Wet--Importunate "Cochers"--Hotel des Pyrenees--"Red tape"

and Porters--Lourdes in Suns.h.i.+ne--Sightseeing--The "Rue de la Grotte"--"The Cry of the Lourdes Shopkeepers"--Candle-sellers--The Grotto--Abject Reverence--The Church--St. Bernard--Interior of Church--The Panorama--Admirable Effect--Rue du Fort--The Castle-- The View from the Tower--Pie de Mars, or Ringed Ousels.

The railway run from Bigorre to Lourdes is by no means a long one, the actual distance being only twenty-six and a quarter miles, and actual time in the train about one and a half hours, but the break at Tarbes considerably prolongs it.

The early morning had been wet, and showers continued till the afternoon, but the sun condescended to come out as the train wound slowly out of the station, and the lights and shades up the valley and hillsides were delightful. Having the antic.i.p.atory pleasure of meeting Mrs. and Miss Blunt and Mr. Sydney again at Lourdes; and a lovely view of the beauties of spring when I looked out of the window, the time did not take long to pa.s.s. One particularly pretty bit of meadow, trees, and stream led to the building of an airy castle, which the sudden appearance of the spires and roofs of Tarbes--suggesting the return to bustle and the haunts of men--soon banished, and the arrival in the station and the necessary change eradicated completely.

Thirty-five minutes to wait. Too little to see the town, too much for twiddling one's thumbs. Then what? Glorious inspiration! The Buffet! Capital; and into the Buffet I accordingly went. Seated at a table, a n.i.g.g.e.r, slightly white about the finger tips, but otherwise quite genuine--no Moore and Burgess menial--appeared to do my bidding. "What would Monsieur take? Cafe?"--"Oui." "Cafe noir ou cafe au lait?" I decided on taking the coffee with milk, adding that anything in the biscuit line would not be amiss, and away he went grinning. He soon returned with cakes and coffee, and by dint of taking my time I had barely finished when it was time to start.

Again I managed to secure a carriage to myself, but this time it proved a very badly coupled one which jolted considerably. Lourdes was reached in a wretched drizzle, and the benefit conferred on pa.s.sengers by having the station _quite_ free from any covering whatever, was _apparent_ to all. A sudden activity on the part of the "cochers" to entrap me to their respective (but by no means necessarily respectable) hotels, as I emerged from the station-- which proved useless--and I was jolting onward to the Hotel des Pyrenees. When arrived, inspected rooms, ordered fires and dinner, and whiled away an hour till it was time to repair again to the station, to meet Mrs. and Miss Blunt and Mr. Sydney, "Red tape"-ism dominant there, as it is everywhere in France. In fact, "red tape"

is the French official's refuge. Whenever a system is weak or underhand, they seek protection behind a maze of stupidity and fuss. I wanted to see the station-master, to obtain permission to perambulate the platform till the arrival of the train. No porter would bestir himself to find this great official, but whichever way I turned one was always ready with his "Ou allez-vous, Monsieur?"

to which the only sensible reply would have been "Pas au ----, comme vous," but silence and an utter indifference were better still, and armed with these I ran the gauntlet of the pests, and finding the "Chef de Gare" in his "bureau," at once received the desired permission. There was not much time for perambulation, as the train soon steamed in, though without Mr. Sydney, who was detained for a day or two longer, and once more, but now a triangular party, we jolted back to the hotel. The rest of the evening was pa.s.sed with dinner, and an endeavour to get warm; the rain and wind still enjoying themselves without.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

However, with the morn all these miseries vanished, and the sun shone from a blue sky flecked with a few films of snow. Lourdes looked very charming under such auspices, and Miss Blunt availed herself of the balmy air of the morning to wander round the stables and garden with a speckled pointer and a Pyrenean puppy, between which and the mountains her attention was divided, though the last named had certainly the least of it.

Then out we sallied to see the sights, which are more of quality than quant.i.ty. Turning to the right from the hotel door, through the Place de Marcadal, where the fountain was playing in delightful imitation of the previous night's rain, we gained the commencement of the Rue de la Grotte (which bears sharply to the left by the Hotel de Paris), and followed its muddy ways with more or less danger owing to absence of footpath, and presence of numerous carriages. However, having pa.s.sed the Hotel d'Angleterre and the end of Rue du Fort (leading to the ancient castle), footpaths came into view, but the joy of the discovery was much minimized at the sight of the shops and shopkeepers, as the latter gave us no peace.

It was one ceaseless bother to buy, mostly in French; but one damsel, confident of success a.s.sailed us in whining English, running up and down before her wares, and seizing different objects in quick succession, while continuing to praise their beauty and cheapness. Every shop or stall we pa.s.sed--and there were a good many--had an inmate more or less importunate, but as what they had to say was very similar, it can be all embodied in the following

"CRY OF THE LOURDES SHOPKEEPERS."

This way, if you please, miss; and madame, this way; Kind sir, pause a moment, and see.

Oh! tell me, I beg, what's your pleasure to-day?

Pray enter--the entrance is free.

Some candles? I've nice ones at half a franc each, Or thirty centimes, if you will.

Some tins, each with lids fitted tight as a leech, For you, with blest water to fill.

And look at these beads, only forty centimes, All carved, and most beautif'ly neat.

I've "charms" that will give you the sweetest of dreams, And _benitiers_ lovely and sweet.