The cradle of Henry IV. is a single tortoise-shell in its natural state. It must have been a good-sized tortoise that gave its back to the honor, but he must have been a very little baby to have slept in such a couch. The cradle hangs very gracefully, supported by six cords and flags embroidered in gold, with the arms of France and Navarre. Above is a crown of laurel, surmounted by a white plume of ostrich feathers, and underneath all a table covered with a blue velvet cloth.
The chapel and library are the only remaining objects of interest. The volumes of the library were presented by the emperor a short time ago, and they are well selected.
There were formerly two chapels, but the older one has been done away with. The present one was built in 1849, on the site of the old gate of the drawbridge. The gate is still preserved, and on it a marble slab that formerly bore this inscription:
HENRICUS DEI GRATIA
CHRISTIANISSIMUS REX FRANCIÆ
NAVARRÆ TERTIUS
DOMINUS SUPREMUS BEARNI
1592.
The interior of the chapel has lately been restored and repainted. It is not remarkable for anything, however. The altar-piece is tawdry, and not in the usual good taste of the chateau.
We left this again for the beautiful park, roamed through it once more, and I took my last look at the imposing structure I had studied with so much interest.
I would advise all who visit Europe to see Pau and the Pyrenees. Those who do so will certainly say with me that, had they crossed the ocean for nothing else, they would have been more than compensated.
ST. MARY MAGDALEN.
The winds of autumn whisper back soft sighing
To the low breathing of the Magdalen;
She on her couch of withered leaves is lying—
Dreams she of days that come not back again?
No—past and present both within her dying,
Her earnest eyes upon the page remain;
While the long golden hair, behind her flying,
No more is bound with ornament and chain.
The storm may gather, but she doth not heed;
Nature's wild music enters not her ears;
Her soul, that for her Saviour's woes doth bleed,
One only voice for ever sounding hears:
"Follow his footsteps who thy sins hath borne,
And who for thee the thorny crown hath worn."