Letters from the Pyrenees during three months pedestrian wanderings amidst the wildest scenes of the French and Spanish Mountains, in the summer of 1842

Preface

. When about to leave England I experienced so much difficulty in obtaining any practical information respecting the Pyrenees, that I scarcely feel it necessary to offer an apology for the present volume — except on the grounds of its imperfect execution, and for that I full well know I must draw largely upon the indulgent consideration of the reader. Far removed from the ordinary route of tourists, and situated to the south of the extended plain of France, the Pyrenees are only accessible by her tediously straight and dusty roads, or by the waters of the Atlantic, and they have con sequently been rarely visited by the English, and few even of those who may have beheld the snows

PREFACE.

. of the Maladetta, have penetrated beyond the Baths of the Hautes Pyrenees, or deviated from the beaten track of the French visitors. Of the extent and stupendous character of these mountains, but little, as I believe, is known in England : I have heard it stated by a person who had resided for six weeks in the Pyrenees, that he had been enabled to obtain a complete knowledge of them ; I can only say, that after journeying among them for three months, I am but able to claim a tolerable acquaintance with one of their divisions, and that the Hautes Pyrenees, which is the most elevated, and the only portion usually visited, scarcely constitutes a twelfth part of the entire range. In my wanderings I have invariably found the Spanish mountains incomparably the finer ; and I repeat what I have elsewhere said, that no one should boast of an acquaintance with the Pyre nees who has not explored them on both sides of the frontier : I may also add, that the grandest scenery of these vast solitudes is alone accessible

PREFACE.

. V to the pedestrian, and it was no small source of mortification that we were obliged to undertake many of our most interesting excursions without the lady of our party, although she probably traversed regions on horseback which few of her sex would have had the courage to encounter. Should I be charged with imprudence for having exposed myself to danger from traver sing the mountains without a guide, my answer is, that in many places, as at Panticosa, such a person was not to be procured ; that we also explored regions of which the French guides were utterly ignorant ; and above all, that 1 consider the tourist who visits the mountains with a guide at his elbow, confines the beauties of nature within appointed limits, and closes his eyes, as it were conventionally, to every pro spect that has not been repeatedly seen and ad mired ; whereas the great delight of the true worshipper of nature is to discover new beauties, or at least to place familiar scenes in novel points of view ; he may be said to resemble the VI

PREFACE.

. keen sportsman, whose pleasure consists in starting his game and pursuing it through the wilds of the forest, while he views with indifference or disdain the birds that are purposely driven with in the range of his shot. In the following narrative I can assure the reader that nothing has been exaggerated or distorted for effect ; it is a faithful description of scenes as they actually presented themselves, written at the time, or so shortly after they were visited, as to preclude the usual imperfections in cident to memory. The sketches from which the woodcuts have been executed were taken on the spot, and although they may not show much, the little they do exhibit is a faithful transcript. The reader will observe that some few of these engravings are inferior to the rest in execution ; it is perhaps right to state they were cut in wood by myself. I cannot but entertain a hope that the publi cation of this tour, notwithstanding all its im perfections, may be the means of inducing many

PREFACE.

. VII of my countrymen to visit the scenes I have de scribed, and to enrich our portfolios from a source so wonderfully prolific in beauty and sub limity ; should such be the result, the work will have met with all the success its author could have any right to anticipate. Dover Street, May 1843. Page 1 9 CONTENTS.

Letter I

Journey from Paris to Orleans. — Savoury compagnons de voyage and a melting anecdote. — Statue of the Maid of Orleans. — The river Loire. — Singularly picturesque beauties of the Limosin. — Plan of the French waggoners for passing over hills. — Grotesque appearance of Limoges

Letter II

Journey from Limoges to Bordeaux. — Water-nymphs of the Vienne. — Arrival at Perigueux on the morning of the eclipse of the sun. — Maceron and Libourne. — Noble approach to Bordeaux. — Its magnificent bridge across the Garonne. — Excursion to the Pont de Cubzac, a gigantic suspension-bridge across the Dordogne. — Splendid quays and mercantile bustle of Bordeaux. — Catacombs of St. Michel. — Cemetery of the city. — A cafe in a coffin-manufactory. — Visit to the theatre, and clamorous dissatisfaction of the audience. CONTENTS. X

Letter III

Page Departure from Bordeaux.— Region of the Landes —Its mists and cold. — Changed appearance of the peasantry. — First view of the Pyrenees. — Journey from Dax to Bayonne. — Lovely situation of Bayonne. — Biaritz, and the Bay of Biscay. — Rocks of Biaritz. — A French bathing-place. — Excursion to the mouth of the Adour. — Mysterious sounds amongst the sand-hills of the Landes 24

Letter IV

First excursion into Spain. — Walk to St. Jean de Luz. — A bath by moonlight, and escape from an awkward predicament. — A Brobdingnagian hostess and chamber. — Road from St. Jean de Luz to St. Sebastian. — Crossing the frontier. — The Bidassoa.- — Visible change in the country. — Yrun. — Dramatic scene in the Plaza. — Spanish beauty. — Pedestrian miseries. — The visible ravages of war. — Execrable mule-paths. — A female Charon. — Passages. — Approach to St. Sebastian. — Difficulty of finding the hotel. — Odd customs. — A visit to the church 40

Letter V

Departure from St. Sebastian. — Filthy condition of the highway. — Mistake the road. — Village in ruins. — The utility of a compass. — Dragons of the frontier. — A pedestrian's quarters for the night. — Maize. — Exercise in a cart. — Return to Biaritz — and to Bayonne. — A sunset in Southern France. — A nocturnal ramble. — Adventures on the road. — fruitless assault on a cottage.— A night in a hay-loft. — A desperate walk, and arrival at Peyrehorade. — Journey to Orthes CONTENTS. XI Page

Letter VI

Orthes, the former residence of the princes of Beam. — Its river and romantic bridge. — A bedroom of bad repute. — Journey to Pau. — Magnificent view from the town. — Its abundant and cheap market. — Enter the mountains. — A Pyrenean hail-storm. — Road to Eaux Bonnes. — Fine approach to the Vallee d'Ossau. — Narrow escape from a torrent. — Infamous extortion. — Vallee d'Ossau. — Approach to Eaux Bonnes. — Habits of living. — Cascades 81

Letter VII

Attempt to reach Eaux Chaudes by a mountain-path. — Awkward passage over a torrent-bed. — Wild beauty of the mountain. — At fault in the wilderness. — Extraordinary descent to inhabited regions. — Gorge and town of Eaux Chaudes. — Colossal scenery of the Pass of Gabas. — The Pyrenean dog. — An excursion with an old man of the Mountain. — The Pic du Midi de Pau. — Young highlanders. — A mountain dwelling amidst the clouds. — The fare of a herdsman. — Disturbed sleep and appropriate dreams. — The Lac de l'Ours, or Lake of the Bear. — Highland honesty. — Return to Eaux Bonnes 98

Letter VIII

A walk from Eaux Bonnes to Cauterets. — The Col de Tortes. — Lovely Vale of Azun. — Mountain villages. — The probable history of a Pyrenean stronghold. — Pierrefitte. — A French travelling-carriage. — Extraordinary road. — Cauterets. — The loungers of its Place. — A disagreeable surprise. — French mountain-riders and their ladies. — The Marcadau. — The Fall CONTENTS. XII Page of Cerizet.— Tradition of the Pas-de-1'Ours— Adventure with a bear.— A happy error.— Audible silence.— The Lac de Gaube and its melancholy associations.— Amusements of the French ennuye. — The Lac d'Estom 117

Letter IX

Unsuccessful attempt to pass the mountains to Luz. — A nocturnal attack by dogs.— The ridge between Cauterets and Luz. — Views from high summits in the Hautes Pyrenees. — Luz and its basin. — St. Sauveur. — Madame Cazaux. — A church of the Templars. — Excursion to the Cirque du Maroons. — Narrow escape of an Englishman. — An accident that might have proved awkward 140

Letter X

Singular gathering of the clouds. — Departure for Grip and Bagneres de Bigorre. — The Bastan and Bareges. — Precarious tenure of houses. — The Pass of the Tourmalet. — Arrival at Grip drenched to the skin. — The Basque language. — A highlander's questions to an Englishman. — Bagneres de Bigorre. — Its Marbrerie. — The Pic du Midi de Bigorre. — Its ascent from Grip. — The view from the summit 154

Letter XI

A stroke of good fortune. — The Chaos of Peyrada and its holy stone. — The Chapel of Heas. — Grotesque paintings. — Pyrenean proverb. — The Cirque du Troumousse. — Mountain spectres. — A pilgrim to the Chapel. — The Chaos of Gedre. — Ascent to the Breche de Roland. — The passage of its glacier. — The puzzling strata of the Marbore. — Unpleasant descent in the dark jgg CONTENTS. XIII Page

Letter XII

A second excursion into Spain. — A lazy Frenchman or an animated woolsack. — Skulls of Templars and mountain graveyards. — The Port de Gavarnie. — Spanish shepherds. — Magnificent scenery on the Spanish side of the port. — Arrested by the Spaniards as English spies. — Marched under an escort through a mountain region of extraordinary grandeur. — Arrival at Torla in a thunderstorm. — Search after the authorities. — A private secretary. — A night in a posada 188

Letter XIII

The torrents of the Spanish mountains. — Overtaken by a flood. — Oil and garlic. — A pictorial language. — A moonlight night at Biescas. — Travelling in Spain. — A Frenchman's account of the plain of Aragon. — Savage approach to and situation of the Baths of Panticosa 205

Letter XIV

Staring propensity of the Spanish visitors. — The Baths of Panticosa. — Detained by a succession of storms. — Their effect upon the mountains and torrents. — A day's fasting at the Spaniards' table d'hote. — Leave Panticosa on an excursion that terminates iD no mean adventure. — The wilds above Panticosa. — Beset by mists. — Consultation and determination to proceed. — The descent of the mountain. — Construct a hut for the night. — Extreme suffering from cold. — A wild shepherd. — A visionary castle. — Return to Panticosa CONTENTS. XIV Page

Letter XV

The peasants' dance. — Passage of the Marcadau. — Changed appearance of Cauterets. — The Col d'Araille. — The Vignemale. — The Plateaux d'Oulettes. — Frustrated plans and departure for Cauterets. — " Darkness which may be felt." — Storm and perilous walk. — Arrival at Cauterets. — Return to Luz 236

Letter XVI

Excursion to the Lac Escoubous with an elfish guide. — Walk to Grip. — Cold and mists of the Pic du Midi. — A Pyrenean soup. — The Cascade Garret. — To Arreau by the Hourquette d'Aspin. — The situation of that town, and the beauty of the Vallee d'Aure. — Numerous old churches of the Templars. — A funeral at Arreau. — Vielle. — Abominable quarters. — Ascent of the Pic d'Azet 247

Letter XVII

The Valley of Tramesaigues pre-eminent for its lovely scenery. — Assaulted by a mountain wind. — The Master of the Baths. —Rough quarters.— The Lac Doredan.— Unexpected good cheer.— Proceed to Bagneres de Luchon.— St. John's day celebrated. — Beauty of the Valle'e de Lys, or ' Vale of the Lily.'— Meditate another Spanish excursion.— John Algaro and his quaint sayings and doings .. 263

Letter XVIII

Leave Luchon for Venasque.— A silver mine.— The Port de Venasque.— A formidable contrabandista. . . .Immensity of the CONTENTS. XV Page 294 Maladetta, the Mont Blanc of the Pyrenees. — Tragic death of the guide Barrau. — Grandeur of the road to Venasque. — The fonda. — A wild chant. — John Algaro a prisoner. — His caution as we start for Vitalles. — The murder at the Portde Castaneze. — Romantic road. — The horse knocked up. — Ca talonian head-dress. — Our quarters at Vitalles. — A Spanish fire-place. — Moonlight scene and serenade 275

Letter XIX

A spot infamous for murder and robbery. — Devastated region. — The wilds of the Maladetta. — The guide knocked up. — Hospice of Viella. — Catalonian shepherds. — The Port de Viella. — Algaro's mare. — The fair at Viella. — Crowded posada.— Mules.— The Valley of Joueou— The Œil de Garonne. — Footprints of a bear. — A dish of Spanish frogs. ...

Letter XX

The Lac Seculejo. — Its cascade. — The wilds and lakes above. — The Mineral Springs and Baths of the Pyrenees. — Pass the mountains to Arreau by the Port de Pierrefitte. — Concluding adventure in the Pyrenees. — Leave Grip for Bagneres de Bigorre. — Extraordinary series of echoes. — Opposed by a wall of snow. — Arrival at Bagneres de Bigorre. — Conclusion LETTERS FROM THE PYRENEES.

Letter I

Journey from Paris to Orleans. — Savoury compagnons de voyage and a melting anecdote. — Statue of the Maid of Orleans. — The river Loire. — Singularly picturesque beauties of the Limosin. — Plan of the French waggoners for passing over hills. — Grotesque appearance of Limoges. Limoges, July 7th, 1842. AFTER an irksome journey of more than forty-eight hours, I arrived at this place from Paris at eleven o'clock yesterday morning. With respect to that por tion of France over which I have passed, I can have nothing to communicate which has not already been said and written at least a thousand and one times ; and were it even otherwise, I will freely confess, that amidst the scenery of this singularly grotesque place, it must be a most ambitious pen that could contest for prece dency with the pencil ; so for the present you must be satisfied with a hasty account of my progress.

The heat and dust from Paris to Orleans were more distressing than can be readily imagined : the latter was actually a foot in depth, and the sides of the road were B JOURNEY FROM PARIS TO ORLEANS. frequently invisible from the clouds that were raised, and which, from the attenuated state of the particles, floated for a mile or two over the country. As it was impossible to close the windows without the risk of suf focation, we were content to submit to the lesser evil of a thorough powdering : but for the information of those tourists who may choose to travel on the continent by public conveyances, I have more agremens in store. I was seated in the rotonde, — the division of the vehicle most exposed to dust and jolting, — it being unfortunately the only part in which I could procure a place ; we of the rotonde, however, — that is, myself and a man and woman, — left Paris in tolerable comfort, and were by no means in ill-humour with our berths ; but our satisfaction had outrun the occasion.

After having proceeded about two long, straight miles, our lumber ing machine overtook three ballock-drivers with an accompaniment of dogs ; the bipeds as well as the quad rupeds, alike hot and dusty, were bound, as some demon willed it, to Orleans. The diligence paused: I surveyed the gigantic proportions of the men, their blue smock-frocks, and deliquescing faces with feelings akin to horror ; it was too evident that we were doomed: the door opened, and three huge persons, with two hounds upon an equally large scale, wedged themselves into our society, and became the savoury companions of our journey to Orleans. Talk of the cramped limits of a Chinese cage, or the foul atmo sphere of the Black Hole of Calcutta ! what were they to such an infliction ? they absolutely lose all their ter- COMPAGNONS DE VOYAGE*. 3 rors by the comparison.

I intuitively felt the sufferings we were to undergo, and soliloquised in the words of Prospero, " for this be sure, tonight thou shalt have cramps, side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up ;" and all these did I surely suffer to the full accomplishment of my prophecy, and was moreover all but stewed and squeezed into a jelly. The approach to Orleans in the early light of the next morning had a strange beauty, which it will probably much puzzle me to discover on any future visit ; and when I look back upon the suffering of that night, I am only astonished that the sun ever dawned upon us as living travellers, and instead of stepping out substantial masses of flesh and blood, that we were not, like the lady of an Indian story, in a state to be wiped up by the garqon of the hotel. This is a problem beyond my comprehension, and its solution might even puzzle the wits of a disciple of the Marquis Beccaria*.

On our arrival at Orleans we were relieved from this nocturnal incubus, and while stopping to change horses, we took advantage of the short interval to hurry across the square, in order to stretch our cramped limbs and pay our devoirs to the Maid of Orleans, who there stands as boldly as in the olden time, in the form of a spirited statue in bronze. We allowed ourselves but a * The Marquis Beccaria, with exquisite raillery, proposes the following problem, in order to show that the same degree of violence may be productive of very different degrees of suffering : " The force of the muscles and the sensibility of the nerves of an innocent person being given, it is required to find the degree of pain neces sary to make him confess himself guilty of a given crime." B ORLEANS. BREAKFAST AT BLOIS. few minutes to examine and admire this work of art, and then hastened back with anxious speed, concluding that the diligence must be on the point of proceeding; but we found to our great annoyance that we had to sit, with what patience you may readily imagine, for at least half-an-hour for the arrival of a fresh cargo of passengers; and although we remonstrated with the conducteur, he was as immoveable as the statue we had just visited.

At Blois we breakfasted; having, of course, but little time allowed for the satisfactory com pletion of our meal, and none for the inspection of the old place. Seated next to me at table was a character that afforded much amusement, — a little squat Frenchman, who, after an interval of some minutes industriously employed in a vigorous attack upon the viands, having suddenly come to a breathing pause, abruptly broke forth into the vilest imaginable jargon, which, in the innocence of his heart, he no doubt regarded as very good English. He was actually red in the face from his colloquial efforts, and after numerous ludicrous and disjointed gesticulations, delivered himself of the ascend ant idea of his countrymen, that " one Frenchman was one very fine feller." If the French are so perfectly satisfied of their national superiority, how is it that they are for ever forcing it upon your attention, as though all the world questioned it?

Having thus sacrificed at the shrine of his vanity, he resumed his dietetic operations, and despatched his meal with evident satisfaction. Leaving the old town, and with it my single-speech THE LOIRE. THE LIMOSIN. 5 friend, we passed the Loire, which from this point of view considerably disappointed my expectations : I had heard so much of its many beauties, and of the fine forest-scenery that clothed its banks, that I was ill prepared to see a river, properly enough so designated, if breadth alone could give it that claim, a mere shallow channel choked and disfigured by patches of sand, and its banks, as far as the sight extends, edged with poplars, a tree that can never find favour in any eye devoted to the picturesque. From Blois we proceeded to Chateauroux, where we supped, and thence to Li moges.

The entire journey, with the exception of that portion of it which occupied the last eight hours, was as ugly as any that can be well imagined : dead, dreary flats, unredeemed by a single beauty, and for miles unvaried except by those eternal lines of poplars, that disfigure the whole country and deprive even a plain of its barren interest. Far otherwise is the aspect of the Limosin : fine ranges of hills covered with fern and forest, wild and romantic, broken into picturesque sand stone cliffs, and studded with the Spanish chestnut, which diffuses its delicious perfume far and wide ; it brought to my mind the lower ranges of the Jura, not that the scenery was exactly similar, but as presenting a character equally wild and mountainous. Amongst the hills of the Limosin may be witnessed an ingenious device practised by the carters for surmounting the difficulties incident to an undulating country, and for affording relief to the horses.

The heavy waggons carrying merchandise travel in company, and when seen FRENCH WAGGONS. over the flats remind one of the caravans of the desert : on arriving at the foot of a hill the leaders of the re spective waggons are taken off, and attached in a line to the first of them ; the other waggons, having only one horse in each, are then successively fastened together by iron chains : on going down-hill this manœuvre is re versed, for in that case the horses are placed behind the last waggon, so that by pulling back they may check the impetus of the descending train, as you will see in the sketch I have sent you. Limoges, as I have before hinted, is as picturesque a place as can be fancied ; the old houses being in such a staggering condition, and so irregularly and whimsically placed, that you might well imagine they had been scared by an earthquake and were taking to their heels to find a more stable position.

Seriously speaking, every street, LIMOGES — ITS PICTURESQUE ASPECT. nay, every house, would afford a study for the artist : I have not yet seen a town in France that in the least resembles it. In a general view of it the cathedral presents a very prominent object, and well merits a closer inspection ; over its gothic features Time has thrown his mellow shadows, and its giant tower, which soars to a great height, is in strict keeping with the whole edifice, being green from the moss that mantles its venerable walls. I wandered yesterday about this extraordinary old town, and strolled along the banks of its river Vienne, a stream, which although shallow, is, from the nature of the ground over which it flows, as clear as crystal ; woods and bold rocks hang upon its sides, and at every bend in its course novel views of beauty suc cessively present themselves.

The heat was excessive, but I tempered its violence by adjourning every now and then from the banks to the bed of the stream, a little caution having been necessary to guard against the fierce rays of the sun; for on ascending to terra firma, experience taught me to place my feet upon ground that was shaded, since the earth exposed to the sun blistered them like a mass of burning metal. From the foot of the bridge I had a charming view of Limoges : the river before me pure and clear, the bridge itself no mean feature in the picture, the town climbing the opposite hill in a series of terraces, with its extraordinary superannuated houses covered with vines, formed altogether a scene of surpassing novelty and interest, while the girls washing linen along both banks of the river infused hfe and rich colouring into the picture ; NYMPHS OF WOOD AND STREAM. many of these damsels were beautiful in features and symmetrical in form, and all being in the most picturesque costumes and busily engaged in beating their linen, were not the least attractive of the objects before me.

Over most of the streets hang gardens, and vines being trained along the terraces form alcoves of rare luxury, through whose clustering foliage we may occasionally catch a glimpse of some blooming goddess. This evening at six I start for Bordeaux, but as yet there being no railroad, you may throw aside your fears of a collision. y

Letter II

Journey from Limoges to Bordeaux. — Water-nymphs of the Vienne. — Arrival at Perigueux on the morning of the eclipse of the sun. — Maceron and Libourne. — Noble approach to Bordeaux. — Its magnificent bridge across the Garonne. — Excursion to the Pont de Cubzac, a gigantic suspension-bridge across the Dordogne. — Splendid quays and mercantile hustle of Bordeaux. — Catacombs of St. Michel. — Cemetery of the city. — A cafe in a coffin-manufactory. — Visit to the theatre, and clamorous dissatisfaction of the audience. Bordeaux, July 11th. " Have you water-nymphs in your country ? " said a Frenchman to me, as we were passing the Vienne to Aixe. " Comment ? " I exclaimed, rather puzzled by the question, when, glancing my eyes over the river, I immediately perceived the drift of it : its limpid surface was in one spot studded with bright crimson, in another with blue, and so on to every colour in the rainbow ; all of which I recognised as the head-dresses of girls seated in little coteries up to their necks in the water.

This sight, so novel to me, was, as I learnt, one of every-day occurrence ; the damsels that wash the linen adjourning after the completion of their labours from the banks to the bed of the stream, where they sit in merry and social converse until the shades of evening warn them to their homes. We have all read of nymphs of stream and fountain, and, in our simplicity, may have B ECLIPSE OF THE SUN. regarded them as the wild creations of fancy, but you have only to repair to this southern clime of poetry and romance to find them actually living, and cognizable by the senses in all their loveliness. I am now, as you will observe by the date of my letter, at Bordeaux; 1 must therefore give you some account of my journey hither. I left Limoges on the evening of the 7th at six o'clock, and reached this town the following evening at seven, having travelled the fifty six leagues in twenty-five hours.

The greater part of the country through which I passed was wild and beautiful, hill and dale clothed with fern and chestnut, — the '• wilderness of the Limosin," as Arthur Young justly terms it. When the dew of the evening descended, the blossoms of the chestnut filled the whole air with their delicious fragrance ; but as night crept on, in spite of every effort, my weary eyes closed, and many a mile was passed without further observation, except once or twice, when I opened them sufficiently wide to see that the aspect of the country was slightly changed, the ground being more level, and heath and shrub having supplied the place of fern and wood. At three, how ever, I awoke for the day. A view of a sunrise in this southern clime is far too interesting to receive from sleep any fair compensation for the loss of it, precious as this boon must ever be to a weary traveller ; besides this was the morning of the much-talked-of eclipse, for the observation of which I had heard before quitting England that several of our astronomers had proceeded to the South : the sky was cloudless, so I kept a sharp PER1GUEUX. 11 look-out for consequences.

Between five and six we were in Perigueux, famous for its partridge-pies and Roman antiquities : the philosophical inhabitants were all busy with their smoked glasses, and we of the diligence quickly supplied ourselves with the same necessary apparatus, and had the satisfaction of viewing the phenomenon as perfectly as was possible with unastro nomical eyes, the gods having kindly postponed the event until we had fairly emerged from our conveyance. Any one, although ignorant of the cause, must have noticed the general diminution of light, but it was far less than I had anticipated. Perigueux is situated in a hollow of the limestone hills of which this region is composed : they are remarkable for the caverns that pervade them in all di rections, and are generally well-wooded and picturesque.

From this town we passed the Isle, in which stands the remnant of a bridge, moss-grown and of most antique appearance, and then ascending a long hill, at tained a level upon which we had to travel for many miles. This road was extremely striking, as it passed along the flank of the hills which fell abruptly to the plain ; to the right they rose immediately steep and precipitous, — green, from a continuous forest of chestnuts, some of which were of great size and age ; to the left, some way below, flowed the river Isle, which, winding its course through vineyards and fields of maize, con tinued our companion as far as Libourne, where it mingles its waters with those of the Dordogne. On this road was enacted a French ceremony which BREAKFAST AT MACERON. the English can never witness with patience.