Part 24 (2/2)
The college, founded by Henry IV., is a large and airy building, without grace or beauty, and enclosed in high walls: it has an imposing effect, from the height of the village of Bizanos, on the opposite side of the Gave.
The Hotel de la Prefecture, and that where the valuable archives of the town are kept, possess neither beauty nor dignity: the s.p.a.ce opposite is now occupied by the new market-house--which appears never to be used, for all the goods are spread out on the stones before it, as if it was only there for ornament: in this s.p.a.ce, the guillotine was erected in the time of terror, and the murders of the great, and good, and respectable inhabitants took place. Unfortunately, this is a record, too recent, which every town in France can furnish.
It appears to me that the people of Pau are quiet, honest, simple, and obliging; at least, we never saw an instance to the contrary, except on our first arrival, when our driver took off the horses from the carriage in the inn-yard, and refused to go a step further to seek for accommodation for us; but I suspect he was not a native of the town. The landlady of the inn--who came from Bordeaux--with a mysterious wink, a.s.sured us we should find all the common people the same--”_Ces Bearnais sont tous brutals!_” was her remark; but we did not find her in the right.
The Gascon character, though here a little softened, prevails a good deal, as the continued boasting about their town proves, and a certain pomposity in their demeanour, which, however, is harmless and amusing.
We were in the habit of employing a baker, who made what was called English bread, and the magnificent manner in which he paid his visits to our domicile was very comic. Our maid, Jeannotte, being out of the way, we were one day disturbed by a vociferous knocking at our parlour-door--for in general all the pa.s.sage-doors are left open--and hurrying to admit the clamorous visitant, we beheld the baker's a.s.sistant, M. Auguste, with a tray of loaves on his head and one in his hand, which he thrust forth, accompanying the action with a flourish and a low bow, exclaiming, ”De la part de Cesar!” We were not then aware that such was the name of our baker, and were much awed by the announcement.
Another of our domestic visitors was a source of considerable entertainment to us, and became still more so through the _espieglerie_ of our attendant, Jeannotte, who took occasion to mystify him at our expense. This object of mirth was a little stout mountaineer, who came every week from his home in the mountains--between the valleys of Ossau and Aspe--with a load of b.u.t.ter and cheese, with which his strong, sure-footed horse was furnished. In the severest weather this little man would set out; and on one occasion his horse had to be dug out of the snow in one of the pa.s.ses; but the desire of gain, which invariably actuates these people, and a carelessness of hards.h.i.+p, made him treat all his dangers lightly. He was in the habit of coming to us every week, and generally made his way to our part of the house, as he appeared amused to _look at us_ as much as we were to converse with him, and ask him questions about bears, wolves, and avalanches.
His stock of French was small, and he had a peremptory way of demanding what he required, as he divided his neat pieces of b.u.t.ter for our service. He could not be more than five feet high, but was a st.u.r.dy, strong-built man, though of very small proportions. One day when delivering his charge to Jeannotte, she asked him in _patois_,--her own tongue--if he was married; he started at the question, and begged to know her reason for inquiring; she informed him it was for the benefit of Mademoiselle, who wished to know. The little hero paused, and presently, in rather an anxious tone, demanded of Jeannotte what mademoiselle's reason could possibly be for requiring the knowledge.
”There is no telling,” said she, archly, ”Mademoiselle thinks you very amiable.”
”Is it possible!!” said he, musing; ”you don't surely imagine--_do_ you think she would have me?”
The laughter of Jeannotte quite abashed the gallant mountaineer, and he replaced his load of b.u.t.ter on his brown _berret_ and disappeared, nor would he for some time afterwards pay us a visit. At length he did so, and I found his modest confusion apparent in his forgetting to take the full change of his money, actually on one occasion abandoning _half a sous_ of his just due, and retiring with a ”C'est egal.” When we told him we were going away he was much struck, and stayed longer than usual gazing at us, till we thought he intended to open his mind, and declare his intentions to share his mountain-home with one of our party. I therefore gave him a note of recommendation for his b.u.t.ter to a friend, and he retired apparently more satisfied, though with a heavy sigh and a murmured hope--expressed half in _patois_--that we would come back to the Pyrenees in the summer.
There is still a good deal of simplicity left amongst this people, and certainly but little wit. Strong affection seems to be felt by them towards their relations, and quarrels seem rare; the Bearnais are said to be drunkards; but I never remember to have seen any instances of this in the streets. They are slovenly, and the lower cla.s.ses extremely dirty; the market-women, in their white flannel peaked hoods of a hideous form, or their handkerchiefs loosely tied, without grace and merely for warmth, have in the cold season a very unpicturesque appearance, and the shrill shrieking voices of those who scream hot chesnuts to sell about the streets, uttering their piercing cry of ”_tou cai, tou cai_!”[26] is anything but pleasing to the ear.
The servants, however, seem good, industrious, honest, and very civil; and, as far as our own experience went, we saw only good conduct; while from our hostess at the Bain Royal we met with liberality and extreme courtesy; she, it is true, is from the refined city of Toulouse, but has long resided at Pau, and I should certainly counsel any stranger, whom, they would suit, to choose her apartments as a residence; for her pavilions are situated in the most agreeable position, out of the noise and dampness of the town, and with the whole range of Pyrenees constantly in uninterrupted view.
[Footnote 26: All hot! all hot!]
CHAPTER II.
THE CLIMATE OF PAU--STORMS--FINE WEATHER--PALa.s.sOU--REASONS FOR GOING TO PAU--THE WINTER.
ONE of the chief inducements to foreigners, particularly the English, to visit Pau for the winter, is the reputation of its climate for mildness and softness. When we arrived, in October, in a storm of rain, it was, we understood, the continuation of a series of wet weather, which, throughout the year, had made the whole country desolate, and the company at all the baths had, in consequence, left a month sooner than usual; for a fortnight after our establishment at Pau, nothing could be more agreeable than the season, precisely answering to the beautiful weather which my letters announced from different parts of England.
During this time the mountains were rarely visible, and when seen appeared indistinctly. This charming fortnight, during which Pau seemed to deserve all the commendations so profusely bestowed on it, was a promise of the calm and peaceful winter which I was told was always to be found in these favoured regions; I bore the sarcasms against the fogs and, above all, the uncertainty of the climate of gloomy England, as well as I could; and my a.s.sertion that, till the first week in November, I had last year bathed in the sea at Brighton, was received with indulgent smiles of pity at my nationality, both by French and English; but of course not believed, for the air of France, I have always observed, has such a property of effacing the remembrance of sunny days pa.s.sed on the other side of the channel, that, by degrees, our countrymen arrive at the belief that nothing but fog and rain are ever to be seen in our ill-fated island, and they imagine that, till they came abroad, their knowledge of blue sky or bright sun was obtained only in pictures, but had no existence on the banks of the Thames or elsewhere, in the desolate regions they had quitted.
The morning of the 18th of October rose brilliantly, and was succeeded by a burning day; in the afternoon ominous clouds suddenly appeared, and brought a storm of rain and hail, whose effects were felt in the extreme cold of the atmosphere for some days, when another change came over the face of things, which brought forth the character of this calm, quiet place, where the excessive _stillness_ of the air is cited as almost wearying, in quite a different light. It has been said, and is frequently cited, that a certain sea-captain left Pau in disgust, after pa.s.sing some months there, because he could never obtain a _capful of wind_. If that anonymous gentleman had had the good fortune to be at Pau on the night of the 23rd of October, I think he would have fixed his domicile for the rest of his life there; for such a furious hurricane he could seldom have had the good fortune to enjoy. For four hours in the dead of night, without intermission, the howling of the wind through the gorges of the mountains, the rush and swell amongst the hills, vales, and across the plains, was perfectly appalling. Every moment seemed to threaten annihilation to all within its reach; chimneys were dashed down in every direction, trees torn up by the roots, and the triumph of the tempest fiend complete. Furious rain and hail succeeded on the following day, with occasional gleams of sun; and then came a calm, beautiful, summer day again, and the mountains shone out as brightly as possible.
This gave place to thick fog and a severe frost on the very next day, lasting for several days; rain then diversified the scene, and on the 29th a wind rose in the night almost as furious as the last, which continued the whole of the day following: a cold gloomy morrow, and the next bright, hot, and pleasant, ended October.
The next day was a triumph for Pau:--”When,” asked every one we met--”when, in_ England_, would you see such a 1st of November?” All my vivid recollections of charming strolls on the beach and downs in Suss.e.x, and in Windsor Park, were looked upon as figments. I heard no boasting on the 2nd, nor for three more days, for it was foggy, and rained hard, and no one could stir out. On the 6th, a heavy fall of snow had clothed the whole country in white; and now, for three days, a sharp, frosty wind prevented any more remarks about the softness of the climate. The frost and snow had disappeared, as by enchantment, on the 11th, the night of which was so sultry that to keep windows shut was impossible. The Fair of Pau was ushered in by rain, on the 12th; the 13th was as hot as the hottest day in July, accompanied by a good deal of fog, for several days: then came violent wind, hail-storms, wind again--louder and more furious--fog, cold, occasionally bright; and November disappeared on a misty morning, which ended in a burning day, without a breath of air, all glare and faintness.
We were now told that, though St. Martin had failed to keep his summer at the right time, he was never known to desert his post; and as in almanacks a day before or a day after makes no difference, we were content to accept his smiles for nine days in the beginning of December.
Again came the question--”When, in England?” &c. and I began to think we were peculiarly favoured, when, lo! letters arrived from that vexatious clime, speaking of ”days perfectly lovely,” ”new summer,” and all precisely like a plagiarism on Pau. Fortunately for the reputation of the Pyrenees, no one would, of course, credit this fact; and the English invalids, who had been covering their mouths with handkerchiefs, and shutting themselves up from the variations of the atmosphere, breathed again, and at once generously forgot all but the bright sun and warm air which had come once more to greet them.
It was true that every leaf had long since disappeared from the trees in the park, and that the sun glared fearfully on the high, unsheltered walks; but the partisans of salubrity hastened to disport themselves in its rays, till _three cases in one week_ of _coup de soleil_ began to startle even the most presuming; and the expected death of one of the patients, together with _another change_ of weather to wet, cold, and fog, silenced further remark.
We were a.s.sured that the extraordinary alternations of climate we had experienced for two months, was a circ.u.mstance quite unheard-of before in Pau, and we looked on ourselves as singularly unlucky in having, by chance, chosen a season so unpropitious. A few simple persons, who ventured to remark that the winter of last year was very similar, were told that they must have been mistaken; and some who recollected high winds were considered romancers. We looked at the strong _contre-vents_ placed outside the windows of our dwelling, and wondered why such a work of supererogation should have taken place as to put them there, if the hurricanes we had witnessed were unusual, when I one day, during a high wind, as I sat at home, happened to take up Pala.s.sou's Memorial des Pyrenees, and read as follows:--
”TEMPERATURE OF THE LOWER PYRENEES--ITS EFFECTS OFTEN DANGEROUS.
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