Читать книгу 'Twixt France and Spain - E. Ernest Bilbrough - Страница 28

Trains and Steamers—Bordeaux and its Hotels—Lamothe—Morcenx—

Dax—Puyoo—Orthez—First impressions of Pau—The Hotels and

Pensions—Amusements—Pension Colbert—Making up parties for the

Pyrenees—The Place Royale and the view—The Castle of Pau and its

approaches—Origin of name—Historical notes—The Towers—Visiting

hours—The Tapestries—The Wonderful Bedstead—The Delusive

Tortoiseshell Cradle—The "Tour de la Monnaie"—The Park—The

Billères Plains—Tennis and Golf—The Route de Billères and the

Billères Woods—French Sportsmen—Hunting—Racing—Lescar and its old Cathedral—Fontaine de Marnières—The Bands—The Pare Beaumont —Ballooning—The Casino—Polo—The Cemetery—The Churches of St. Martin and St. Jacques—The "Old World and the New"—Rides and Drives—to Bétharram—The Start—Peasants and their ways—Vines trained by the roadside—Sour Grapes—The "March of the Men of Garlic"—Coarraze—Henry IV.'s Castle—Bétharram—The Ivied Bridge —The Inn—The "Via Crucis"—Assat and Gélos—The Coteaux— Perpignaa—Sketching with a Donkey-cart—Over the Coteaux to Gan— The Drive to Piétat—Picnicking and Rejected Attentions—The Church—Feather Moss—Bizanos—Carnival time—"Poor Pillicoddy"— "Idyllic Colbert."

Few Winter Resorts have gained a greater celebrity than Pau, and its popularity yearly increases. Fifty years ago its English visitors might have been counted by tens; to-day they must be reckoned by thousands. But this is only during the winter and spring; in summer it is almost entirely deserted by foreigners, few people in fact, unless compelled by circumstances, staying after May has passed into June.

For many reasons it has become a favourite resort for invalids, an important one being, its exceedingly accessible position. Notwithstanding that it is 776 miles distant from London, fewer changes are requisite than for many a journey of less than a quarter of the distance. The quickest way from London is viâ Dover, Calais, Paris, Bordeaux and Dax; and as a through sleeping carriage can be obtained from Paris to Pau, that part of the journey is anything but formidable. For those who prefer the sea route, the fine boats of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company which start from Liverpool are the most preferable conveyance, though the less expensive steamers belonging to the General Steam Navigation Company, sailing from London, are comfortable enough in fine weather. The former land their passengers at Pauillac, whence they proceed to Bordeaux by tender or train; but the latter boats, being smaller, can come right up to Bordeaux, which is a decided advantage.

Though the third port in France, Bordeaux can certainly not be recommended as a stopping-place unless necessity requires it, for the hotel-keepers generally succeed in reaping a rich harvest from travellers passing through.

The Hôtel de Nantes is the nearest to the quay, but the Hôtel Richelieu will be found more moderate and more comfortable. In the town, the grand Hôtel de France has the best reputation, but "birds of passage" have apparently to pay for it, whereas old stagers concur in saying that for gentlemen—especially those who appreciate a good dinner—the best place is the Hôtel de Bayonne.

Bordeaux has many fine buildings and objects of interest over which a week can be easily spent, and for this length of time the hotel prices are in proportion considerably less per diem; but in winter it is especially bleak and cold, and travellers are advised to get on to Dax or Pau as quickly as possible. The railway journey of one hundred and forty-five miles to Pau occupies as a rule about six hours, passing Lamothe, Morcenx, Dax, Puyoo, and Orthez. Lamothe [Footnote: See Appendix.] (25 miles) is the junction for Arcachon, [Footnote: See Appendix.] the celebrated winter station among the pines, situated on the shores of a landlocked bay; and Morcenx [Footnote: See Appendix.] (68 miles), is likewise the junction for the Tarbes line and Bigorre.

Dax [Footnote: See Appendix.] (92 miles) has a well-deserved reputation for its baths, and possesses several mineral bathing establishments, of which the "Grand Etablissement des Thermes" stands first. The mud baths are perhaps more celebrated than those of steam or water, being especially efficacious in severe, and often apparently otherwise incurable, cases of rheumatism. There are also some pleasant walks by the River Adour, and in the neighbourhood there is a bed of fossil salt.

Puyoo [Footnote: See Appendix.] (111–½ miles) is the junction for the Bayonne line, but is without other interest.

[Illustration: DAX.]

Orthez [Footnote: See Appendix.] (120–¾ miles) is of historic interest and possesses some noteworthy remains. M. Doré has represented the Tour de Moncade, built in 1240, with mediaeval surroundings, and not quite as it may be seen now. It was the scene of many of Gaston Phoebus' greatest crimes. The old fourteenth- century bridge over the river, with its central tower, could tell some tales too, if we could discover "sermons in stones"; and the plain below the town was the scene of one of Wellington's many victories in 1814.

Two coaches start from Orthez, one to Salies (10 miles), celebrated for its salt springs, and the other to Mauléon-Licharre, a picturesque spot where fine views, cascades, and ruins abound.

[Illustration: THE TOWER OF MONCADE, ORTHEZ.]

Passing the ancient town of Lescar (140–½ miles)—of which we shall have more to say later—the train is soon drawn up in the station of Pau, and directly the traveller shows his face outside, he is hailed by the "cochers" from the various hotels in a bewildering chorus. This is the same, more or less, at every French town where English people congregate, and Pau only inclines, if anything, towards the "more."

The first impression conveyed when leaving the station and passing along the Avenue de la Gare, is, that the town is mainly composed of the castle and magnificent hotels which tower above the station. This, to a certain extent, is correct, for they occupy a large area, and the views from the windows of the hotels, as well as from those of the castle, are the finest in the town. Issuing from the Avenue into the "Place de la Monnaie," the ruins of the "Mint" tower, and above them the castle itself, come into full view, after which the road continues along the Rue Marca for a short distance, branching afterwards to the right into the most ancient square of the town, the Place Grammont.

The hotels de la Poste and Henri IV. are here situated, but the roads to the various other hotels and pensions diverge in different directions. To the right up the Rue Bordenave and along the Rue Henri IV. is the route to all the finest hotels, of which the "France" is the best, and the "Gassion" the most imposing; the others are the Belle Vue, Splendide, Beau Séjour, and de la Paix, all with the exception of the last possessing the magnificent mountain view, but although from the windows of the "Paix" only a side glimpse can be obtained, yet at the same time this hotel faces the "Place Royale," the popular resort of all classes in Pau. From the left-hand corner of the Place Grammont a narrow street leads to the fine church of St. Jacques, which is also the nearest way to the grand Hôtel Continental near Trinity Church, and the Pension Hattersly in the Rue Porte Neuve. But the route more to the left still, leading up the hill and joining the Route de Bordeaux, past the Haute Plante parade ground, is the usual one followed, especially for the Pensions—Lecour, Nogués, and Maison Pieté in the Rue d'Orléans; Pension Etcherbest, in the Passage Planté Hôtel de Londres, on the route de Billères; and Maison Colbert, in the Rue Montpensier.

Well knowing the comfort of a good pension, and intending to make a long stay, we drove straight from the station to the well-known Maison Colbert, and were soon as comfortable as we could wish. There are many people we are aware who detest "pensions." "We don't approve," say they, "of meals at fixed hours, of a drawing-room common to all, and of such a small house that everybody must know everyone else before the first dinner is over!" Well! why should they? They can go to the hotels; but let all those who are suffering or delicate put away thin-skinned feelings of superiority, till they have a good enough constitution to support them, and in the meantime seek peace and kindness, such as may be experienced at the Pension Colbert.

If, on the other hand, it can be taken as a criterion that those living in hotels are not invalids, then the visitor contingent of Pau must consist principally of healthy people, who prefer a good climate and lively society to the attractions that England and America have to offer from October to May. This is hardly correct, but there can be no doubt that more than half the foreigners [Footnote: From the French standpoint—i.e., English and American.] who come for that period, do so for comfort and pleasure alone. And it is not to be wondered at. Who, that was untrammelled by the cares of business, or shortened purse-strings, but would not gladly exchange the bill of fare England has to offer, of London fogs, east winds, Scotch mists, and Irish dynamite, for the handsome menu awaiting him at Pau? Drives, kettledrums, dinners, balls, lawn tennis, polo, pigeon-shooting, golf, racing and hunting; and, if he particularly wishes it, a balloon ascent as well. This last-named is an expensive pleasure, as the aeronaut, judging by the prices on the bill, requires a substantial fee, and it is besides an amusement life insurance companies do not readily countenance.

Of course, if one comes to Pau merely for enjoyment, hotel life may be preferable to that in a pension, though our experiences of the latter mode have been very pleasant ones. It is so easy to make up a small party for a drive or a picnic, and being all in one house there is but little chance of any mishaps before starting, such as individuals forgetting the time that had been fixed and keeping the rest waiting. Above all, when planning a tour into the Pyrenees, it is essentially necessary to form a party of some sort, if the trip is to be carried out in the spring; for although, as we shall endeavour to show later, the scenery is then at its best, still, since it is not the season, only one or two hotels are open in each resort, and society is "nil."

Then further, when people are going to travel in company for several weeks it is well that at least they should know something of one another, for if they all commenced "pulling different ways" up in the mountains, the safety, or at any rate the composure of each, would be likely to suffer. My own relations, who were with me at first, left for England long before the mountain trip was arranged, but we made up a very pleasant quartette before the time for starting arrived, and accordingly visited Pau in company as well as the mountains. This quartette consisted of Mrs. and Miss Blunt, Mr. Sydney and myself, and though it will be seen by subsequent chapters that the trio decided on staying a fortnight at Biarritz in preference to following my example and spending the time at Bagnères de Bigorre, yet we made arrangements to meet either at Lourdes or Argelès and thenceforward to travel in company.

To see Pau in its beauty, winter must have given place to spring. When the grass once more begins to grow, the trees to unfold their tender leaves, the rivers to swell, and the birds to sing; while yet the sun's rays cannot pierce the snowy garment on the distant heights; then Pau is in her beauty. Passing—as we so often passed—down the Rue Montpensier and the consecutive Rue Serviez, into the Rue du Lycée, then turning from it to the right for a short distance, till, with the English club at the corner on our left, we turned into the Place Royale, and, with the fine theatre frowning on our backs, quickly made our way between the rows of plane-trees, but just uncurling their leaves, to the terrace whence the whole enormous expanse of mountain can be viewed, our admiration at the magnificent scene unfolded before us never diminished. But our favourite time was at sunset, especially one of those warm ruddy sunsets that tint the heavens like a superb red canopy.

Then, leaning on the terrace wall, we admired in silence. Beneath us lay part of the town and the railway station, the river beyond, in one part divided and slowly flowing over its stony bed among the alder bushes; at another, gathered together again, rushing furiously along as though impatient to lose itself for ever in the depths of the ocean.

[Illustration: PAU (FROM THE JURANÇON SIDE OF THE GAVE).]

Beyond the river, amid the varied green of tree and meadow, nestled the scattered villages, with the hills above, here brown with bare vineyards, there vying with the meadow's green; and in the background behind and above all, the mighty range of snow mountains extending as far as eye could reach, and fading in the dim haze of distance. Then, as the sun sank lower, the soft rosy hue shone on the castle windows, glinted through the trees of the Château Park, dyed the swift waters of the river, and tipped the snowy crests afar. There are few, we think, who would not, as we did, enjoy fully the contemplation of such a scene.

From the Place Royale to the Château is a very short distance; turning to the right past the Church of St. Martin—a fine well- built edifice—and the Hôtel Gassion, it stands in full view, and the broad walk passing beneath the side arches leads into the courtyard. In order to obtain a good view of the entrance and the towers that guard it, it is preferable to approach the castle by the Rue Henri IV. (a continuation of the Rue du Lycée that passes between the theatre and the end of the Place Royale), which, when the shops are left behind, suddenly curves to the left, to the foot of the bridge leading direct to the main entrance. It is worth while to stand on the bridge for a short time, and survey the whole scene, which can hardly fail to carry the thoughts back to olden times, and as the castle is so intimately connected with the town of Pau, a few explanatory historical facts will not, we trust, be considered out of place before continuing the inspection of the edifice. The origin of the name of Pau is the Spanish "Palo," a "stick" or a "stake," and takes us back to the time when the Saracens had taken possession of a large part of Spain and were making raids beyond the Pyrenees. Feeling their unprotected position, the inhabitants of the Gave Valley made over a piece of ground to a Prince of Bearn, on the condition that he should erect a fortress for their defence thereon. This he agreed to do, and as the extent of his allotment was marked out by "stakes," the castle became known as the castle of "stakes" or Palo, which in time became Pau.

Its commanding position and appearance inspired confidence, and houses soon sprang up around; and, at least a century before the birth of Henry IV., Pau had become an important place. In time it became the capital of the kingdom of Navarre, and later, when Navarre, Bearn, and the "Pays Basques" were constituted as one department in 1790, it still retained its position as chief town.

Now to resume our inspection from the bridge. The two towers in full view on either side of the sculptured façade, are the finest and most prominent of the six that flank the castle, but there is one in the interior of the court of more interest. The highest of these two is the donjon on the left, built of brick, and known as "La Tour de Gaston Phoebus" (112 feet). Its walls are over eight feet in thickness. The tower on the right is known as "La Tour Neuve," while the most interesting is that known as "La Tour de Montaüset" or "Monte-Oiseau," in which are the ancient dungeons and oubliettes. The porter has rooms on the ground-floor of the Gaston Phoebus Tower, and his wife sells photographs singly and in books. Outside, underneath and adjoining the same tower, is a small modern (1843) chapel.

The hours for visiting the interior of the Château are between 10 and 12 and 2 and 4 daily, and the entrance is free, though the guide expects a gratuity, say of one franc for one person, two francs for three. As we were always lucky enough to be the only people wanting to inspect, at the particular hour we went—which was always as near ten as possible—we managed by judicious means to calm the impetuosity of the guide, and induce him to tell his tale slowly. If, as usually happens, other people are there at the same time, he rattles off his lesson at such a pace that it requires very good French scholars to even follow him; to remember what he says is out of the question. Whether by "more judicious means," it would be possible to induce him to go round out of hours, we do not know, never having had occasion to try, but we certainly think it would be worth an attempt, if the visitors could not otherwise manage to hit a time when they could go over alone.

Passing under one of the three arches of the façade, we traversed the courtyard to the extremity, and while waiting for the guide to come to us at the small side door, examined the curious sculptures surrounding the window on the left. On the door being opened we passed into the Salle des Gardes, and from that into the Salle à Manger, where stands a statue of Henry IV., supposed to be more like him than any other. Then through a succession of rooms and up flights of stairs, and through rooms again, to describe which as they deserve would alone fill up a small volume, but this we do not intend to do, contenting ourselves with simply mentioning as much of what we saw as we hope may induce everyone to follow our example, and see them for themselves. To any lovers of a grand view, that which may be seen from the upper windows of the castle is almost alone worth coming for, and the tapestry which lines the walls of many of the rooms is simply exquisite.

The "Sports and Pastimes of the various Months" of Flanders work, in the "Salle des Etats"—the six pieces of Gobelin work in the Queen's Boudoir on the first floor—the five pieces of the same work, including "Venus's toilet," in Queen Jeanne's room on the second floor, and the four pieces of Brussels in Henry IV.'s bedroom—also on the second floor—are only a few of the many wonderful pieces of tapestry.

[Illustration: THE CASTLE COURTYARD.]

In the "Grand Reception Room," in which the massacres took place in 1569, is a fine mosaic table and Sèvres vases, besides the Flanders tapestry.

There are several objects of interest in Henry IV.'s room, in which he is said to have been born 13th December, 1553, including the magnificently carved bedstead; but the chief attraction is the tortoise-shell cradle, which as a rule Frenchmen come only to see. Why they should come is quite a different matter, seeing that although a tortoise's shell might make a very comfortable cradle for even such an illustrious infant as was Henry IV., yet as he never had anything to do with the one in question, it is rather absurd that year after year they should flock to see it out of respect to him; and the absurdity is greater, since in a statement on the wall hard by this fact is made known. None of the northern rooms are open to the public, but the chief objects of interest have been transferred to the other wing!

Leaving the courtyard by the road under the side arches that leads to the terrace, the tasteful gardening of the surroundings is noticeable, and as soon as the lower walk is reached, the "Tour de la Monnaie" lies in full view below. No efforts are made to keep these ruins, in which Calvin used to preach, from crumbling into dust. "O tempora! O mores!"

From the terrace on the other side of the Castle, the remains of the old fosse may be seen, though houses are now built where the water used to lie. A broad pathway encircles the edifice, and a bridge leads from the extreme end over the Rue Marca into the Castle Park, called also "lower plantation" (basse plante) in distinction from the "upper plantation" (haute plante), which surrounds the barracks. Near the road the trees are planted stiffly in rows, but when another and smaller bridge has been traversed, the beauty of the Park is manifest.

[Illustration: IN THE CASTLE PARK.]

Following the course of the river, and filled with the finest trees and shrubs, through which the beautiful little nuthatch may occasionally be seen flying, and among which many other birds sing—it is indeed, with its long cool walks and pleasant glades, a lovely promenade. The Bayonne road is the boundary on the opposite side from the river, and just beyond the limits of the Park a path branches off river-wards to the Billères Plains, where tennis and golf are played. In the opposite direction another leads up under the shadow of an old church, and joins the Route de Billères, which, starting from the Bordeaux road, passes the Villa Lacroix and other handsome houses, and descending throws off another branch into the Bayonne road. It then curves in an opposite direction, and ascends, while at the same time skirting the grounds of the Château de Billères, to the favourite Billères woods. From the woods it communicates in a nearly straight line with the Bordeaux road again, so that in reality it describes three-quarters of a circle.

These woods, though sadly disfigured by the demand for fire-wood, are pleasant to ramble in when the soldiers are not in possession, and there are drives through them in all directions. At one time wild duck, pigeons, and woodcock were plentiful there, but that time has passed, though the gallant French sportsmen may still be seen trooping through with their dogs after blackbirds and tomtits!

Pau dearly loves excitement. Three times a week in the winter the hounds meet in the vicinity, and many are the carriages and many the fair occupants that congregate to see the start. It is generally a very gay scene, with no lack of scarlet coats and good steeds, pretty dresses and sometimes pretty faces too; and though afterwards they enjoy many a good run, there are but few falls and fewer broken heads. But it is over the races that Pau gets really excited. Hunting only attracts the well-to-do, but all who can hire or borrow even a shandry make a point of not missing the "races." And these meetings are not few and far between, but about once a fortnight, for there is no "Jockey Club" at Pau, and consequently it pleases itself about the fixtures.

The course, which is some two miles from the town on the Bordeaux road, is overlooked by an imposing grand stand, which generally seems well filled, though the betting is not very heavy on the whole. We drove over one afternoon, and after waiting for three events which to us were not very exciting, proceeded towards Lescar. The nearest way would have been by turning to the right by a white house on the Bordeaux road (not far from the race-course), but we continued along it instead for some distance, finally turning off down a narrow lane without any sign of a hedge. After following this for a length of time, we took the road at right angles leading between fields covered with gorse, and later, descending one or two steep hills with trees on either side, we reascended and entered the ancient town of Lescar, only to dip under the tottering walls of the ancient castle—a few minutes later—and mount again under a narrow archway to the church.

P. Joanne in his excellent guide-book calls it "the ancient Beneharum, destroyed about the year 841 by the Normans, rebuilt in 980 under the name of Lascurris. In the old chronicles it was called the 'Ville Septénaire,' because it possessed, it is said, seven churches, seven fountains, seven mills, seven woods, seven vineyards, seven gates and seven towers on the ramparts." The church now restored was formerly a cathedral, and there are some fine old mosaics (11th century) to be seen under the boarding near the altar. Jeanne d'Albret and other Béarnais sovereigns are buried there.

The Castle is very old, though the square tower dates from the 14th century only.

The whole town, so curious and ancient-looking, is well worth a visit, and forms a contrast in its fallen splendour to Pau's rising greatness, such as cannot fail to strike any intelligent observer.

Passing through the town, we took the road to the right homewards, which joins the Bayonne route, but instead of continuing along the latter all the way, we branched off into the route de Billères, and came by the Villa Lacroix and the Hôtel de Londres back to the pension.

Another road leads from the Villa Lacroix over a brook, and past the establishment of the "Petites Soeurs des Pauvres" into the country, and in fact to Lescar. The brook is known as the Herrère, and by following the path to the left which runs beside it, the "Fontaine de Marnières" is reached. The water of this fountain is considered very pure and strengthening, and many people drink it daily.

The band is another attraction at Pau; twice a week in the afternoon they play in the Place Royale, and twice in the Parc Beaumont. The music is of a very good order, and excessively pleasing to listen to from beneath the shade of the trees. The Parc Beaumont is quite near the Place Royale, the principal entrance being at the end of the Rue du Lycée, close to the Hôtel Beau Séjour.

Balloon ascents were often the chief attraction on Sundays, which "all the world and his wife" went out to see. There is a casino in the Park, used occasionally for concerts, but the casino is behind the Hôtel Gassion, and though it was hardly finished enough for comfort when we saw it, that defect will soon doubtless be remedied.

Polo is generally played in the "Haute Plante" (in front of the Barracks), and bicycle races take place there also occasionally. It is only a step from this pleasure-ground to the cemetery, and though this nearness never affects the joy of the children on the roundabouts or the young people swinging, yet it is another practical example that "in the midst of life we are in death."

The Rue Bayard—on the left of the Haute Plante—leads to the cemetery gates, and the tombs extend behind the barracks; those of Protestants being divided from the Roman Catholics' by a carefully kept walk leading from the right-hand corner of the first or Roman Catholic portion!

There is a charm about this last resting-place in spite of its mournfulness, and the many flowers load the air with a delicious perfume. The marble statue of a Russian lady in fashionable costume, over her tomb, is considered a fine piece of sculpture, and many people go there simply to see it.

The two principal French churches are those of St. Martin and St. Jacques, but the latter is in every way the more beautiful. The "Palais de Justice" stands close to St. Jacques, but facing the Place Duplaa, where many of the best houses are situated. The Rue d'Orléans, communicating the Place Duplaa and the Route De Bordeaux, contains many Good French pensions, which have been previously mentioned.

By following the Rue St. Jacques past the church of the same name and turning down the street which cuts it at right angles, called the "Rue de la Fontaine", the ancient part of the town can be reached. It may be here remarked the peculiar characteristics of Pau, and yet probably seven visitors out of ten fail to notice it. the other end of "Fountain Street" leads into the Rue de la Prefecture. this is one of the very busiest streets in Pau, and if after leaving one of the magnificent new hotels we traverse this busy street, and then suddenly plunge down the Rue de la Fontaine to what was once the bed of the castle fosse—where the houses are small and dirty, and the walls and slates barely hold together, so wretchedly old and tottering are they—where, instead of bustle and grandeur, there is only gloom and poverty, and in place of the enjoyment of the present, there is the longing for a lot a little less hard in the future; we feel as though we had gone back several centuries in as many minutes, and have a decided wish to return to nineteenth-century civilisation again.

We did not find the rides and drives the least pleasant of our enjoyments, and there are so many places to visit, that picnics are plentiful as a matter of course.

The chief excursion from Pau is to Eaux Bonnes and Eaux Chaudes, but as there is a slight danger of damp beds there—if you get any beds at all—early in the year, we postponed this grand trip for another time.

Another long drive is to Lourdes and back, but this we did not take, as we meant to stop a night there later; but one day we made up a party for Bétharram, which is a long way on the same road, and, under ordinarily kind auspices, a delightful day's outing.

If it was less pleasant than it might have been to us, the weather had a good deal to do with it, and the other causes may develop themselves in narration. There were ten of us, and we started in a grand yellow brake with four horses and a surly coachman. The morning was excessively warm, and some of the party were of such rotund proportions, that the thin ones were nearly lost sight of, if they chanced to sit between them, while the warmth approached to that of a cucumber frame with the sun on it. We attracted a good deal of attention as we crawled down the Rue Serviez and passed the entrance to the Pare Beaumont, down the hill to Bizanos; but as soon as the château that takes its name from the village was reached, we met with little admiration, except from the good people jogging along in tumble-down carts and shandries. The peasants seemed on the whole a good-natured lot, taking a joke with a smile often approaching a broad grin, and occasionally, but only very occasionally, attempting one in return. The following is an instance of one of these rare occasions:—We were walking beside the Herrère stream in the direction of the Fontaine de Marnières; several women were busy washing clothes at the water's edge, and above, spread out in all their glory, were three huge umbrellas—umbrellas of the size of those used on the Metropolitan 'buses, but of bright blue cloth on which the presence of clay was painfully evident. We asked the price without smiling, and the women, wondering, looked up. We said they must be very valuable, and we would give as much as six sous for any one of them. At this moment another woman, who had been listening to the conversation from a little garden behind, came up and said: "Those umbrellas belong to me, and they are worth a lot of money; but I will sell you one cheap if you promise to send it to the Exhibition!"

But to resume. After crossing the railway line beyond Bizanos, and leaving the pleasant little waterfall on the right, the sun began to pour down on us very fiercely, and all we could do, wedged in as we were, was to appear happy and survey the country.

It was curious to note the method of training the vines up the various trees by the roadside. The simplicity and efficacy of the method seemed plain enough, but with memories of the difficulty experienced in guarding our own fruit even with glass-tipped walls to defend it, we were forced to the conviction that in the Pyrenees fruit stealers are unknown. Perhaps, however, the "grapes are always sour," or sufficiently high up to give the would-be thief time to think of the penalty, which probably would be "higher" still.

The road continues nearly in a direct line through Assat (5 miles), but when that village was left behind, the mountains seemed to be considerably nearer, and even the snow summits—a bad sign of rain—appeared within a fairly easy walk.

The painful odour of garlic frequently assailed our nostrils passing through the hamlets, and though it is not quite as bad as the Japanese root daikon, yet to have to talk to a man who has been eating it, is a positive punishment. We would fain bring about a reform among the people, getting them to substitute some other healthily-scented vegetable in place of the objectionable one. To this end we composed a verse to a very old but popular tune, styling it