E. Ernest Bilbrough

'Twixt France and Spain


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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