I had previously met with several in different parts of Spain, who had narrowly escaped by crossing the Pyrenees, exposed to hunger, cold, and exhaustion. Over this bridge had passed half a million of French troops during the invasion of Spain under Buonaparte, half of whom never returned alive. The luggage once examined at the frontier custom-house, a few hours carried us to Bayonne, through a rich and cultivated soil, with fine houses dotting the country, so unlike the uncultivated wastes in the interior of Spain. Bayonne is an old, walled, seaport town, of considerable commerce, situated upon both banks of the Duoro, with shady ramparts and pleasant wooded environs. Its citadel was the key of Marshal Soult’s position in 1814, and was the scene of one of the most bloody conflicts between the English and French, which cost the lives of two thousand men. Here the Bayonnais used their knives in the muzzles of their muskets, which gave them the name of bayonets, and introduced that weapon in modern warfare. A few miles from Bayonne is Biaritz, much resorted to for sea-bathing; the shore is high, rocky, and iron-bound, but the bays are sandy, and the village, with its snug cottages and tenements, has somewhat the air of our own Cape May.
From Bayonne I diverged to the east to Oleron, along the base of the Pyrenees, in order to visit Pau, a place much frequented by foreigners for the mildness of its climate, and to make excursions to the celebrated watering-places. Pau is a lovely and attractive spot; its natural scenery is the admiration of all visitors; the beautiful chateau of Henry IV. is in the centre, upon a very commanding position. It is now undergoing repairs, and preparing for the reception of the French emperor in July.
Les Eaux Bonnes, the favored resort of the Countess Montejo, the present empress, and Les Eaux Chaudes, or hot springs, are situated in the mountain gorges of the towering Pyrenees, where we found excellent hotels, and all the recreations and diversions, and agreeable winding walks which nature and art can contrive, and which induce thousands of fashionables and invalids to resort thither during the hot months of summer.
The bathing establishments are on a stupendous scale. The valleys are teeming with a numerous and industrious population in their simple garb, and we see women and children with their simple utensils of husbandry in hand; the little patches are worked by hand, as the land is divided in small parcels, and frequently women are seen holding the scratching sort of plough, while the husband takes the place of the horse, or vice versa, when the representative of the animal is fatigued. These simple peasantry, who are buried in snow six months of the year, now employ every moment of their time to provide their winter supplies. They look forward with great pleasure to the arrival of the empress in July.
From Pau, in another direction, a distance of forty miles, lies Tarbe, a considerable town in a beautiful valley. I stopped there to visit the Hara, a government establishment which contains one hundred and twenty of the finest horses in France, imported from Europe, Asia, and Africa, for the improvement of the race. Thence I proceeded to the baths of Bagniere de Bigore, a pleasant town, famous for its hot ferruginous baths, and greatly resorted to. The largest marble manufacturing establishment I had ever visited, I found here, employing some one hundred and fifty hands. The great variety of marble found in the Pyrenees enables the stone-cutters to work to great advantage; the execution is on a larger scale than in the mines of Carrara, in Italy, where a large population is employed, but upon smaller work. Here the huge blocks are sawed by water power, and the work, from heavy altar pieces down to ladies’ ornaments, is skilfully and delicately wrought.
Not unlike our Kentucky farmers, who produce large droves of mules for the Southern States, the mountaineers here derive a handsome profit from the raising of these animals for the Spanish markets. In France horses are almost universally in use, while in Spain the hardy mule endures better the coarse fare of the road. In making my excursions I found myself reduced from a Spanish diligence with eight or ten mules, to a pair of horses and caleche, as the summer lines were not yet established. Another twenty hours’ ride from Pau, brought me to Bordeaux, upon the banks of the Garonne—the city most renowned in France for its wines, and having an extended commerce to all parts of the world. Bordeaux will soon be in direct connexion with Paris, by means of railroad, a distance of some three hundred and fifty miles, in ten to twelve hours. I found that the city had improved extensively since I visited it in 1847. It was then a fatiguing ride by diligence, but it will soon be a pleasant trip from Paris. Instead of returning by the same route, I descended the river by steamer to Blaze, and thence passed through the beautiful grape districts en route to Rochefort, famous for its arsenal; there, as well as at Toulon, the French marine is seen in its perfection. The town is regularly planned, with wide streets, well-paved sidewalks, and large gardens laid out in miniature, in the form of the Tuileries of Paris. The walls or ramparts are planted with shade trees, which have attained an immense size, and form beautiful promenades.
The head-gear of the peasant women is the most peculiar in France. They wear plain white or embroidered caps upon a form suited to the head, rising eighteen inches in height, the top extended like a fan; the elderly women are more moderate in their patterns, but the young girls seem to rival each other in the quantity and quality of the floating material. The next town en route is La Rochelle, in striking contrast to Rochefort for cleanliness and beauty. Its commerce consists chiefly in the exportation of brandies, as the region of country about Cogniac is almost exclusively devoted to and dependent upon the spirit trade.
From La Rochelle I proceeded to Nantes, one of the principal cities of France, situated upon the Loire. I arrived on a Sunday morning, and large preparations had been made for a church festival and procession from the cathedral. Nantes, like all other towns in France, as well as Spain, has its octroi duties, and every article of consumption pays its tribute at the gates, for the municipal support of the city. The conductor of the mail coach had carefully concealed a leg of mutton and a basket of peas for his festival dinner. His negative reply to the general question, if he had anything to declare, did not satisfy the officer, who, after a diligent search amongst the luggage, brought out the unfortunate treasure, which was put upon the scales, weighed, and taxed, much to the annoyance of its owner, as well as the detention of the passengers and mail. The houses and balconies of several streets were hung with tapestry, and adorned with garlands of natural and artificial flowers, immense altars with gold and silver tinsel ornaments occupying the angles and squares through which the procession passed, with long lines of musicians, the military, the church, and civil officers, followed by a thousand girls in white robes and veils—all got up with French delicacy and taste; it had a happy effect. At Nantes I first availed myself of the railroad, as I had made a long detour along the coast in order to visit the places named, avoiding other cities on the main route which I had formerly visited. It was with no small satisfaction that I took the express train, at the rate of forty miles per hour, for Angers, an antiquated city within, surrounded by a boulevard of noble trees upon the former rampart. It has a famous castle of immense size, built by the Roi d’Augon; it covers a large surface, and has seventeen towers. A fair was held there at the time, which attracted a large concourse of people. My next stopping point was at Amboise, where I visited the chateau which was the property of the Orleans family; it is eligibly and magnificently situated upon the banks of the Loire, and is a perfect fortress in itself. Here was shown the apartments where Abd-el Kader and his suite were confined nearly six years, as his captivity in the chateau of Henry IV., at Pau, was of short duration. The gardens and grounds, upon an elevation more than one hundred feet, are very picturesque, and here he delighted to pass most of his time. In one corner of the grounds which he occupied are seen the mounds of twenty-six out of ninety Arabs who died during their confinement. The country through which I passed was the garden of France. It was a continuous village; the cultivation was close, and the small farms abounded in products of every variety; vineyards and fruit were in profusion: cottages and farm-houses were almost within gun-shot of each other. From Amboise I continued by railroad to Tours, which contains one of the finest cathedrals in France. The fast line soon carried me to Blois, to visit its famous chateau, partly restored under the administration of Louis Philippe; the interior wood-work, painting, and gilding, are of the most choice execution. From Blois to the modern and unfinished chateau de Chambord, belonging to Henry V., the present legitimate incumbent to the French throne, is five leagues distant from the main route. I was well repaid for my ride. The structure is gigantic, the style of architecture is of varied character, and is a souvenir of monuments of different European ages, as well as Oriental styles. The buildings were never finished, but appropriations have been made by government to continue the work. The grounds inclosed occupy about eight miles square, with several villages of tenantry. Orleans, the next large city en route, has one of those mammoth Gothic cathedrals so much bepraised; but I have spoken so frequently of the works of art, that the subject must have become tiresome to you. The city was full to overflowing, and with much difficulty I procured quarters; the agricultural and horticultural fair and cattle-show produced such multitudes as we see in our own State. Finally, I was not a little rejoiced to return to Paris, after the fatigue of a somewhat protracted voyage. I might have gone into detailed accounts and filled several sheets since I last wrote you, but I desisted, as my eyes have not recovered their full force since I left the glare and dust of Madrid. I expect to leave Paris the early part of July, on my way home.
1854.
XCI.
Marseilles, February 27, 1854.