On the first day of September, when the baths in the Pyrenees Mountains begin to be possessed of their virtue, there were at those of Cauterets(1) many persons as well of France as of Spain, some to drink the water, others to bathe in it, and again others to make trial of the mud; all these being remedies so marvellous that persons despaired of by the doctors return thence wholly cured. My purpose is not to speak to you of the situation or virtue of the said baths, but only to set forth as much as relates to the matter of which I desire to write.
1 There are no fewer than twenty-six sources at Cauterets,
the waters being either of a sulphureous or a saline
character. The mud baths alluded to by Margaret were
formerly taken at the Source de César Vieux, half-way up
Mount Peyraute, and so called owing to a tradition that
Julius Cæsar bathed there. It is at least certain that these
baths were known to the Romans.—Ed.
Cauterets is frequently mentioned by the old authors, and
Rabelais refers to it in this passage: “Pantagruel’s urine
was so hot that ever since that time it has not cooled, and
you have some of it in France, at divers places, at
Coderetz, Limous, Dast, Ballerue, Bourbonne, and
elsewhere”(Book ii. chap, xxxiii.).—M.
All the sick persons continued at the baths for more than three weeks, until by the amendment in their condition they perceived that they might return home again. But while they were preparing to do so, there fell such extraordinary rains that it seemed as though God had forgotten the promise He made to Noah never to destroy the world with water again; for every cottage and every lodging in Cauterets was so flooded with water that it was no longer possible to continue there. Those who had come from the side of Spain returned thither across the mountains as best they could, and such of them as knew whither the roads led fared best in making their escape.
The French lords and ladies thought to return to Tarbes as easily as they had come, but they found the streamlets so deep as to be scarcely fordable. When they came to pass over the Bearnese Gave,(1) which at the time of their former passage had been less than two feet in depth, they found it so broad and swift that they turned aside to seek for the bridges. But these being only of wood, had been swept away by the turbulence of the water.
1 The Basques give the name of Gave to those watercourses
which become torrents in certain seasons. The Bearnese Gave,
so named because it passes through the territory of the
ancient city of Bearn, takes its source in the Pyrenees, and
flows past Pau to Sorde, where it joins the Adour, which
falls into the sea at Bayonne. It is nowadays generally
known as the Gave of Pau.—L. & M.
Then certain of the company thought to stem the force of the current by crossing in a body, but they were quickly carried away, and the others who had been about to follow lost all inclination to do so. Accordingly they separated, as much because they were not all of one mind as to find some other way. Some crossed over the mountains, and passing through Aragon came to the county of Rousillon, and thence to Narbonne; whilst others made straight for Barcelona, going thence by sea, some to Marseilles and others to Aigues-Mortes.
But a widow lady of long experience, named Oisille, resolved to lay aside all fear of bad roads and to betake herself to Our Lady of Serrance.(3)
3 The Abbey of Our Lady of Serrance, or more correctly
Sarrances, in the valley of Aspe, was occupied by monks of
the Prémontré Order, who were under the patronage of St.
Mary. An apparition of the Virgin having been reported in
the vicinity, pilgrimages were made to Sarrances on the
feasts of her nativity (Sept. 8) and her assumption (Aug.
15). In 1385 Gaston de Foix, who greatly enriched the abbey,
built a residence in the neighbourhood, his example being
followed by the Gramonts, the Miollens, and other nobles.
The pilgrimages had become very celebrated in the fifteenth
century, when Louis XI. repaired to Sarrances, accompanied
by Coictier, his physician. In 1569, however, the
Huguenots pillaged and burned down the abbey, together with
the royal and other residences. The monks who escaped the
flames were put to the sword.—M. & Ed.
She was not, indeed, so superstitious as to think that the glorious Virgin would leave her seat at her Son’s right hand to come and dwell in a desolate country, but she was desirous to see the hallowed spot of which she had so often heard, and further she was sure that if there were a means of escaping from a danger, the monks would certainly find it out. At last she arrived, after passing through places so strange, and so difficult in the going up and coming down, that, in spite of her years and weight, she had perforce gone most of the way on foot But the most piteous thing was, that the greater part of her servants and horses were left dead on the way, and she had but one man and one woman with her on arriving at Serrance, where she was charitably received by the monks.
There were also among the French two gentlemen who had gone to the baths rather that they might be in the company of the ladies whose lovers they were, than because of any failure in their health. These gentlemen, seeing that the company was departing and that the husbands of their ladies were taking them away, resolved to follow them at a distance without making their design known to any one. But one evening, while the two married gentlemen and their wives were in the house of one who was more of a robber than a peasant, the two lovers, who were lodged in a farmhouse hard by, heard about midnight a great uproar. They got up, together with their serving-men, and inquired what this tumult meant. The poor man, in great fear, told them that it was caused by certain evil-doers who were come to share the spoil which was in the house of their fellow-bandit. Thereupon the gentlemen immediately took their arms, and with their serving-men set forth to succour the ladies, esteeming it a happier thing to die for them than to outlive them.