Rides in the Pyrenees

Front matter

RIDES IN THE PYRENEES BY MISS SELINA BUNBURY. Author of " Coombe Abbey," &c. &c. " Come and ride by my side, and I will tell you all about it." The Knight of Foix, to Sir John Froissart. " As soon as we dismounted at our Inns I wrote all down, whether it was late or early, that posterity might have the advantage of it ; for there is nothing like writing for the pre servation of events." Fkoissakt's Chronicles. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: T. C. NEWBY, 72, MORTIMER St., CAVENDISH So.. 1844. To My kind Friend, Lady Ramsey, This Work is gratefuUy dedicated.

Preface

. In the more ancient days of Book-making, that is to say, some half-a-dozen years ago — for, as no book now is expected to live much more than three months, six years ago is an age in publishing — the usual theme of a preface, and the aU-prevailing excuse of an author were, that his or her book was yet a desideratum in literature. Such supplies for such desideratums are still to be seen occasionally advertised in a newspaper critique ; but I own I am simple enough to imagine, the author must possess some ingenuity, who wiU make out a desideratum among the VOL. I. B

PREFACE.

. books published now-a-days ; and I do not know that Publishers complain of any desi deratum in the manuscripts sent to them. What, then, shall I state as my reason for putting forth another book into this crowded world 1 Why I shall tell the truth, as I have done through my pages, and as all puzzled children are generally advised to do. A few days before Christmas Day, 1843, I arrived chez moi. " Tell us where you have been, and what you have seen," was the demand. " I have been I know not where, and I have seen I know not what," was nearly all my reply ; for not being endowed with the gift of loquacity, I should have found it almost as easy, and, perhaps, quite as agreeable, to re-commence my " Pyrenean Rides," as to give a word of mouth account of them. " Why you might just as well have been on a visit to Birmingham or St. Helen's," said one.

PREFACE.

. III " You are just as stupid and silent as if you had passed a long night, and come down to bid us good morrow," said an other. " Well," said I, closing up my eyes, " I will write it all." And so I did. I wrote it all ; as nearly as possible, word for word, step for step ; I neither added, nor diminished, for it was all a family affair ; as I wrote I read, and when all was written, and all was read, I thought it a great pity that all should not be printed ; and I hope every one else will think so too. However, I dare say, there is a great deal recorded that may need an apology to the beau monde — there is nothing fine or fashionable to be found in my perambula tions. From necessity, as well as choice, I was most conversant with the peasantry. I could not, if I had wished it, travel in my own carriage, with a courier, along the roads, or be carried up the mountains by guides in a chaise a porteurs. Necessity, however, was b

PREFACE.

to me, in some instances, a ready-made virtue. I have not pretended to add to the disco veries of Continental tourists ; nor to en lighten the world respecting France and the French. In fact, all the benefit that I can flatter myself any future tourists, young ones of course they should be, can derive from my pages, is to learn how to enjoy what is to be enjoyed, and to remember that though it may not be desirable to find good in everything, it is always desirable to attempt to make or to leave good where we have found it not. I have only another statement to make. My, Uterally, rough notes are obliged to be sent forth with all their imperfections on their head ; I have not been able to re write them, and a removal from all the blessings of penny postage and rapid com munication, must prevent me from revising the press. I have, however, as in many a worse dilemma, found some sources of con solation under the prospect of a thousand

PREFACE.

. V unavoidable, little mistakes one day staring me in the face in all the beauties of a perfect type — my own little public (always indulgent) will ascribe all errors and imper fections to any one, or any thing but to the author; and those literary inquisitors, the British reviewers, will surely never expend a giant's strength in breaking a butterfly on the wheel. Metz, France, July 1844.

Chapter I

A general apolcgy for rambling. A lady's portrait in her passport. A Diligence journey. My companions. Prince Albert's acquaintance. A separation from them. I believe it is expedient that I should preface my rambles in the Pyrenees, by some account of the manner in which I got there ; more especially as these rambles may appear to have been performed under circumstances rather out of the common order. In doing this, however, I shall conclude that all who read my story will be as anxious to get to the end of this preliminary matter, as I was to finish the number of Leagues that divide Paris from Pau ; and therefore I shall impress myself with the conviction that the entire route from London was one line of railway, and trust to the force of that imagi nation to make my pen move with propor tionate celerity over it.

I set out from Park street, Grosvenor square, on an intensely warm night, . to em bark in the Calais steam-boat, accompanied by three ladies, a servant, a dog and other nuisances, to go, as I thought, on a quiet little expedition to the city of Paris. I had no idea of any further rambles, and never pro jected such a scheme as that of riding through the Pyrenees. But if it be true in other things that " one step leads to another," it is trebly true in travelling : at least my steps followed each other with a rapidity that perplexed the wondering little world I had, so unpremeditatedly been led away from, and who verily believed that I designed a new edition of old Don RIDES IS THE PYRENEES. 3 Quixotte's adventures. To enlighten them on this point, and show how completely I was made the drift of circumstances, I have undertaken to record these adventures.

We landed at Calais, safely, after having been, to use the nautical phrase, caught in a fog, which delayed us on our passage from four o'clock in the morning till ten at night, as if to give us a parting impression of our atmosphere ; with which, after all, I am very well satisfied ; and as I met a most agreeable fellow-passenger on board, the density of the fog was considerably lightened, at least its pressure on my nerves and spirits much less heavily felt. However we landed safely at Calais, that good old town, the name of which was to have been found written on our poor Queen Mary's heart. Yet I am very glad that the Duke of Guise recovered that border town for his country from its unjust possession by the English for two hundred years ; for I am a friend to the rule, that every one should keep their own, and let their neighbours keep theirs.

But oh ! shade of the valiant Guise, could you now behold your conquest ! just as English, and perhaps more so, than when you took it from them ! — a depot like its neighbour, Boulogne, for expatriated English ! The Commissionaire, who seized upon us for honest plunder, spoke English, and in flicted a most disagreeable panic upon one of our party by doing so. This poor lady was impressed with the formidable idea of the necessity of a passport, stating her height, complexion, colour of her eyes, shape of her nose, dimensions of her mouth, and more teazing than aU, the exact number of her years. The next morning the ever-active Commissionaire informed us that we must come with him to the Bureau to receive these important documents. On arriving there we were informed, of what indeed we had asserted before to be the case, that our trouble was needless, as he could have as well brought them to us.

The passport-dreading lady expressed some little displeasure against Monsieur le Commissionaire, forhaving brought her there ; but, throwing himself into an attitude, with a look of confident innocence, he exclaimed — " But, Madame, it is necessary you come here, for them to take the size of your face !" I feared the poor lady would have fainted. She expected nothing less than a plaster of Paris cast to be taken of her face upon the spot. Great indeed was her relief when some of us laughed at the man's bad English, and told her he meant, by taking the size of our faces, giving a description of our persons. And this, after all, Frenchmen are much too polite to do in the case of ladies ; for only imagine men whose national boast it is that they alone possess ' complaisance pour les dames,' coolly recording, in your presence, that you have grey hair, a turned-up nose, a wide mouth, a yellow complexion, and, per haps, a squint in one eye !

The thing is impossible, and the size of our faces, otherwise their description, never was taken. Is there any civilized being in these loco motive times who has never seen a Diligence \ I harily think so, but at all events every one imagines it, from the report of millions of tourists, who have verbally, or by means of pen, ink and paper, given portraits of it. Every one however likes to tell his own story, and so I will record my own description of a Diligence. It is a medium beteen a waggon and a carriage ; a long, heavy, workhouse-looking sort of conveyance, divided into three com partments, of which the coupee is the aristocratic part, I'interieure, the respectable, or middle class, part, and la rotonde, or hindmost part, that which is described in that treasure of English travellers, Murray's hand book, as the " receptacle of dust, dirt, and bad company."

In addition there is a department on the top, which, were I once in and never had to get out, I should prefer to all the rest, the Bangnette, which is just like a wide, old-fashioned cabriolet with the head up, mounted on the top of a waggon. This national conveyance is usually drawn by five short, broad horses ; and I know not why, but certainly I have observed that nearly a pure white seems the fashionable colour. In hilly districts their number is increased to six, seven, eight, or even nine ; and in the Pyrenees I had the advantage of being drawn with the additional aid of a yoke of oxen, on the only occasion on which I took advantage of the Diligence. In general, a Diligence is about as dirty a thing as can well be imagined : and there are just two other observations I have to make ; namely, that everything about them seems contrived to add to weight and noise.

The necks of the poor horses are encircled by great wooden collars, adorned with an immense covering of blue worsted, and hung round with bells ; the cocher, very unlike our noble coachmen of yore, being usually a young lad, dressed, like our carters, in a blue blouse, drives them by sound only, this sound being produced partly by the cease less and tremendous crack of his long whip, and partly by his singular, stimulating cries. The very horses themselves add to the singularity of the sounds, for I am sure any one who has ever travelled by a Dili gence will bear me out in a fact I never could persuade a Frenchman of, that French stage horses cry, or squeak, in a manner quite unknown to those of England. No fine person ever travels by the Diligence ; consequently few fine persons ever know much of the people through whose country they travel.

Their courier tells them when they have arrived at their destination, and arranges all affairs at the intermediate stages ; and for freedom from all the annoyances, and most of the purposes of travel, they might have fancied themselves still seated in their drawing rooms, if their space were a little wider, their occupations a little more varied, and their heads a little less heavy. Our only companion as far as Boulogne, where we took up others, was a very large Englishman ; who informed us that he was travelling for pleasure, amusement, and the benefit of his health : admirable objects, if people only knew how to seek, or how to find them ! This gentleman could not speak one word of French : he had come into the Bureau in a passion, and railed at the agent, in English, about his place, and the loss of a glove, that was found rolled up in his cloak ; all which was interpreted by a Commissionaire as he thought expedient.

He came into the Dili gence in a passion, and scolded the con ducteur in English, for not comprehending a word of that language, assuring the man he never would speak a word of French, but would make him understand what he said before he got to Paris : and finally, he de clared the cause of all this anger, by affirming that he had been made to pay at Calais, at the rate of fourteen francs for a fowl ; for as he had only eaten a leg, for which he paid three francs, any school -boy could easily prove by the famous Rule of Three, that, if one leg cost three francs, all the remaining parts and members of that poor fowl must amount to fourteen. When the English, delivered from all fear of the Bastile, or the thousand prison-castles that adorn la belle France, began to over-run every corner of the lands our troops had evacuated, they were delighted to find everything much cheaper there than at home ; those who could speak French, told this, and those who could not, implied it, by holding out their hands and smilingly allowing all innkeepers, &c. &c. to settle their own accounts.

It was a pleasure then to be imposed upon, or, where there was not imposition, to pay more than was necessary ; for, even after all this unnecessary expenditure and squandering of money, travelling on the continent was so much cheaper than in England ! Well, the English effected a great change on the continent, all prices rose; the English were thought to be made of gold ; and then their country was so dear it was only right they should be made to pay more when they went to another. They had laughed at imposition when prices were low ; they began to mur mur at it when prices rose ; and now an Englishman, like our fellow-traveller, is so accustomed to hear that his country-people have been imposed upon, that he expects naturally the same fate, and complains of imposition whether he meets it or not.

We stopped for half an hour at Boulogne, but none of our party, except the large English man, entered the Hotel ; he enquired in a plaintive tone whether we thought there would be time allowed for him to get a morsel to eat. He replaced himself in doubled discontent with his doubled meal, acquainting us all, that he had been made to pay three francs again " for some trash they called dinner." He had now an associate in another non- French speaking gentleman, who was taking a trip to Paris probably on a leave of ab sence from a London office, and who entertained him with a most elaborate account of all he had eaten, all he had drank, and all the noble pranks he had played at Boulogne ; until the consequences of these valiant per formances were displayed in a fit of sickness, which, to my great relief, obliged him to leave the Diligence.

Alas ! for the great and glorious national character of England ! how often have we to blush for it in passing from Calais or Boulogne to Paris ! The sixth member of the " interior" was altogether a different being from any of us. He was a rather small, slight man, dressed in white, even to his casquette: a nearly white blouse, very white pantaloons and stockings, and nothing, in short, that was not white, but a moustache, a satin stock, and a black leather front to his casquette. His countenance was a curious mixture of melancholy and vivacity : the one, sometimes greatly preponderating over the other, or entirely superseding it ; but both together sometimes blending in a singular manner. With something of that easy curiosity which is so natural to the French, but would be deemed unpardonable in English travellers, he directly enquired where we had come from, and whither we were going.

The latter question some of us might find more difficulty in answering than the former. We, however, immediately settled the question of nationality, by merely opening our lips ; and we almost as soon discovered that the white man was not French ; for he asserted that London was a much finer place than Paris, and that Englishwomen were more beautiful and charming than French. He spoke English, and assured us he was half English, having lived for three months in London ; and then wanted to know if we should spend the winter in Italy, as so many of our compatriots did. The mention of Italy at once betrayed his country. English was too dilatory a language to expatiate on its charms and glories ; he broke out in French, sometimes with an almost devotional expression coming over his countenance, sinking his voice into a low and tender tone, as if he spoke of the virtues, or recalled the image of a lost friend.

Then, as if to arouse himself from a saddening train of thought, he broke out in another strain ; he spoke of other countries, he compared various cli mates, glanced at the various sources of enjoyment to be found in different places ; the sights and wonders to be seen, but returned to Italy as the focus where all these were to be found united ; so that in short, to use nearly his own expression, " after you have seen Italy there is no more to be seen." We were amused and interested : his knowledge of countries was evidently not gathered from books ; he was now going to Greece, and he had been in every other part of Europe ; he spoke I know not how many languages, and persons as well as places, were familiar to him. Names that stood high up in the world's calendar were mentioned as every day words ; he called Prince Albert " a Good Boy," and told us he had often played with him and his brother ; he described the person of the Prince of Russia, related anecdotes of the royal widow, his mother, and hinted that the little Princess had loved smoking.

He seemed to have mingled in the private hours of noble dames, beautiful ladies, and lovely girls, and his pathetic account of the death of one of the latter brought tears to my eyes ; I wrote the story, and, perhaps, will print it too. In travelling, it is undoubtedly needful to be cautious ; and some of our English scru ples were aroused ; for one is generally apt to suspect something when a traveller talks very fine. It was very evident that he was not a man of rank ; but it was as evident that he did not wish to be thought so, for, in telling how the little Princess would coax him to connive at her smoking, or to smuggle her a cigar, he often repeated the words— " Ah ! Francesco, do so !" — and with Prince Ernest, or Prince Albert, and sundry other gentle wights, he was always, " Francesco."

I wanted to be certain of the truth of my conjecture, so I recollected I was in France, and asked him in plain terms, if he was a courier \ to which he answered at once- — " Yes ; but it is the fault of my step-mother that I am one." My assumption of French customs carried me no further ; so I do not know anything more of Francesco's " belle mere!' There exists in general a prejudice against the class to which he belonged ; and I doubt not, in most cases, justly. The life these men lead appears to be very detri mental to moral principle and character ; but the glorious days of couriers are nearly over ; the English have taught so many people to speak their language, or at least to understand them, that these polyglot gen tlemen are much less in demand. There was, however, an apparent good heartedness, about Francesco that took one's prejudices by surprise ; and he was so kind, so attentive, so little given to that selfish ness which is almost always a component part of the travelling character, and therefore renders almost all travellers disagreeable, that we wished to believe him just as good as he was amusing.

So we chatted away the time, or rather listened to his rambling, yet pleasant talk, till we reached Montreuil, where our Eng lishman was the first to descend, and when we entered the Salle a manger, where a nice cold supper was prepared, we found him in the midst of fowls, pates, birds, wine, brandy, and I verily believe, beer : calling for other things in English, and flinging it aside with an angry look, when the wrong article was brought ; the terrified garfon and a pretty young waiting woman watching him, or looking at each other in evident ap prehension and perplexity. We continued our road to Abbeville, by the light of a lovely moon, which was just sufficient to enable us to descry 'the dark outline of the wood of Crecy, a name for ever memorable in the annals of chivalry, and those of our Black Prince.

Azincourt, generally named in England, Agincourt, lies about twenty miles from it ; glorious names to English ears, yet names that are indeed associated, in justice, with memories of English rapine, and wrong to France. Just as we were passing near to the fields of Crecy, and our minds borne away by that swiftest of all conveyances, imagination, to the distant past, and the long de parted glories of chivalry, we began to be reminded that while our minds were in a different scene, our bodies were in the well filled interior of a Diligence, by the very uneasy movements of our large companion, which of course made us nearly as uneasy as he appeared to be. After several indistinct moans and mur murs, accompanied by efforts to place him self more at ease, he turned his head towards the courier, and said, " I don't know if you call this pleasure ; for my part I can't say I see much in it."

Francesco, as he called himself, burst into a pleasant laugh, and, shaking his head at us, replied that it was not very pleasant to continue a journey just after a hearty meal. " A hearty meal !" cried the other, " bless you ! I have eaten nothing, literally nothing — I made scarcely any breakfast, then I had the leg of a fowl at Calais, for which they charged me three francs ; some morsel of trash at Boulogne, three francs more, and now they call that supper, I suppose, not a bit any decent person could eat, and a charge of three francs, ten sous, for what I could neither eat nor drink — if you don't call that imposition I know not what is." Reader ! I am going to ask a question, to which, I am certain, no one can give an affir mative answer — did you ever see, on a country road-side, two goats with their necks yoked together, who ever took many steps in the same direction, without a tug from one to go in a contrary way ?

Well, I be lieve it is nearly as uncommon to see united travellers, whether linked in indissoluble bonds or not, pursue any of the world's highways without something of a similar tug, felt, expressed, or understood. I say this in order to prove that I was only like other people, when I wanted to stop to see the old town of Abbeville, and the magnificent Cathedral of Amiens, and my party were only like other people when they wanted neither to stop at Abbeville, nor to go to Amiens, but to continue on their route direct to Paris. They advised me however by all means to vol. I. c gratify my curiosity, and promised to meet me in Paris at the appointed day and hour ; so I yielded to their representations, and they left me at l'Hotel d'Angleterre, to repose in peace for the night, while they under went a night in a French Diligence, which I had not quite descended from, when the large gentleman expanded himself over the place I had left, and probably by this ex pansion did not compel his neighbours to participate in the results of an expenditure of nine francs, ten sous, for what the French emphatically, and in plain terms call " La Bouche," between the hours of two and ten o'clock.

Chapter II

A little ramble in Abbeville. A boat on the Somme. French children and French Mammas. Priests and infidels. Two words of English and one of French. Amiens. A first sight of the Cathedral. A French protector. I got up early next morning and went out to see something of the interesting old town of Abbeville. To do so properly it is necessary to traverse its old, narrow and dirty streets, where the ancient buildings, (curious old houses) are to be found. It is an interesting ramble to the lover of architecture, and awoke saddening memories as I c thought of one who would have so enjoyed all that I was too ignorant fully to ap preciate. I like the air of antiquity, that contrasts so much with the new and bright erections of Abbeville's latter days ; and always find interest in those antique habitations, es pecially when seen in places, where, as in Bretagne, the people seem to have changed almost as little as their houses : but I cannot speak scientifically about them.

The old gate-way called la Porte de Bearnais, I stood some moments looking at, pleasing my fancy with the idea of the gay and graceful cortege that once entered it, escorting the lovely, young ' Mary of England,' to her aged and infirm bridegroom, Louis the Twelfth. A beautiful girl of eighteen, with a heart devoted to another ; how must that heart have sickened as she passed beneath that gate, amid the acclama tion, homage and admiration of thousands ; and the sister of the King of England and plighted wife of the King of France, felt that the silent homage of poor Charles Bran don's eyes, was more to her than that which two nations offerred. The Hotel d'Angleterre was quite full of my compatriots, about to radiate in all directions ; from some of these who ven tured to speak to me at the Table d'Hote breakfast, I learned that there was a small boat on the Somme to Amiens, at noon, and that if I did not take advantage of that I must travel on at night.

Accordingly I arranged my affairs at the Hotel before going to see the Cathedral ; and after a little imposition, which was my own fault for I might have guarded against it, I took the Cathedral on our way to the river. The fagade which is in the style ex pressively called Flamboyant, may strike with surprise, any one accustomed only to our English edifices. The rich tracery that covers the portals, pediments and towers, the carving of the centre door and the ex traordinary number of statues that adorn the front, are indeed worthy of contempla tion, and I stood at the opposite side gazing at it, until startled by a very timid enquiry from an English clergyman, who, I suppose, imagining from my Mute, unconscious gazethat I was a connoisseur, requested some piece of information, which I gave in the only way I could, by accompanying him inside, and letting him make his own observations as I made mine.

Those who began this fine Cathedral, had not, I believe, wherewithal to finish it : the result is, great disappointment to those who enter in, calculating on the interior being at all in correspondence with the front of the building ; like that of Beauvais, though far less magnificent and curious, the Cathedral of Abbeville is a striking specimen of incon sistency. The little canal boat set out ; the Somme was clear, the sun bright, and the trees and willows, that bordered our watery way, looked very tempting when we could not enjoy their shade. The company was not certainly of the elite of France ; yet perhaps I ought to re tract the remark, for the majority consisted of Priests, and as much of " young France" as could be packed into it. It was in fact the time of les Vacances, when all Priests and Abbes were afloat, and all students (among whom were one or two exquisite examples of juvenile French pedantry) and little boys and girls, were trying to haste, if the conveyance would allow them, from schools and nunneries to the dear delights of freedom, or of home.