We made Pau only a halting-place for nine days, en route for the Riviera, and to form some opinion as to its suitability for a longer stay at another time. Coming from the ever-changing ocean, and from Biarritz, which had so captivated our fancy, perhaps we did not take so kindly to Pau, a large inland rural town, as we might otherwise have done; while, in consequence of the season not having fairly commenced, the strangers encountered in the streets were few, and the town consequently was more dull than it would have been later on. The weather also was such that we had not much opportunity of seeing the environs.
Before 1840, Pau apparently was a place of no repute. I presume Dr. Taylor’s recommendation gave it its great stimulus. But in twenty years after 1840 it had largely increased, evidences of which were, that the octroi duty had in 1860 realized nearly double, that the British visitors had amounted to 1000 in number in the year, and that its population had augmented to 21,000. It has gone on increasing since, and is now so well frequented as to require no less than three English churches and one Scotch church, with resident ministers, while the population is reckoned to amount to 30,000.
The town itself is regularly built, with good leading streets, and possesses a large market-place, where goods of all kinds, even broadcloths, are sold in open stalls; and as Pau is the centre of a very large rural population, it is on market days a busy place; but there are many good shops in some of the best streets, and the wares are, I think, cheaper than in Nice and elsewhere in the Riviera. The two town churches, St. Martin’s and St. Jacques, are new and of white stone, and with their fine tapering spires are externally handsome, but internally, except for their stained-glass windows, want the richness of ornamentation we had seen in so many other Roman Catholic churches abroad.
The grand sight at Pau is the chain of the Pyrenees. We had only to go a short way along the country road, in which the Pension Colbert is, to see them. But a more uninterrupted prospect is had from the Boulevard du Midi, or terrace of the Place Royale, in front of the prominent buildings I have already mentioned. Leaning upon the parapet wall of this fine terrace, and looking almost straight down upon the valley below, one sees beyond the road and a small outlying portion of the town and the railway station, the river Gave flowing sluggishly along, crossed by a handsome low stone bridge of, I think, five arches, and lined on both sides by rows of tall poplar and other trees, and bordered by straggling houses, which give some character to the scene. Then, on the other side, there rises a range of well-wooded knolls and hills, called the Côteaux of Juraçon and Gelos, the highest about 300 feet in height, and dotted over among the trees by mansions; and then apparently the ground dips behind them, and in the distance (the nearest being twenty miles off) the long range of the Pyrenees stretches out in a continuous line eastward and westward as far as the eye can see, and forming the natural boundary and barrier between the two great countries France and Spain. Rising abruptly and prominently out of the range like two great tusks, are the Pic de Midi d’Ossau, to appearance nearly opposite Pau, and the grandest of the Pyrenees; and away to the eastward, the Pic de Gers; while still farther to the east, but eclipsed by intervening heights scarcely visible from Pau, the Pic du Midi de Bigorre, each of them, or at least the first and last mentioned, from 10,000 to 11,000 feet high. From the upper windows of the hotels on this Boulevard the view must be magnificent. It was very fine from the windows of the Chateau, but they are of a low elevation. This view, perhaps the finest in France, is really the great attraction to the hotels in this quarter, for nowhere else does it seem possible to obtain the prospect from so high a position, and so free from intervening obstructions. When we were at Pau, there was no snow upon the Pyrenees, so that we failed to see them in their best. Even, however, when snow-covered, they cannot bear comparison with the Alps as seen from Turin. But the view may be finer when the mountains are snow-covered and there is a grand sunset, for which Pau is famed. The mountains in the ruddy glow may then resemble the Bernese Alps, as seen from Berne in a brilliant sunset. At Turin, as the mountains lie to the west of the town, the sunset effect must be greatly lost.
The Chateau, which was the residence of the Princes of Bearne in former times, and where Henry IV. of France was born in 1553, is well worthy of inspection, and, of course, any stranger coming to Pau pays it a visit. Three bridges connect it with the town, and at one time it was doubtless a place of strength. Entering on one side through what appears to be a modern screen of three open slender arches embellished by carved work (seemingly rather too delicate for a warlike place), and passing the sentinel, the visitor is at once in the court-yard, the remaining three sides of the nearly square yard forming the castle, pierced by decorated windows. The walls are of great thickness, giving the idea of massive strength and solidity. In some of the rooms the walls are covered with tapestry, and in parts the tapestry is a close imitation in worsted of paintings in oil—a mistake in art, I think. The ceilings are bold in design, without being either fine or remarkable. The old beds are curious high boxes of carved oak, requiring steps to enable the occupants to get up into them. A lower modern carved bed in one of the rooms, devoid of the canopy of the old ones, seemed vastly preferable. One of the bedrooms was hung with silk of the time of Madame de Maintenon, and, as we understood, manufactured under her superintendence. The most interesting object in the castle was the cradle of Henry IV., made of a large tortoise shell. There is a statue of the great monarch in the grounds, and in the country round about places exist with which he was associated; and, indeed, Pau and its neighbourhood is a place of great historical interest.
A public park closely adjoins the Chateau. It is filled with lofty trees, and continues for a long stretch by the banks of the Gave on a rising ground, through which and under the trees walks have been formed and seats placed, whence charming views of the river and mountains are had. The band plays during the season sometimes in the park and at other times in the Place Royale.
The environs of Pau are said to be beautiful, but we had not much opportunity of exploring them. Mr. Inglis (the traveller), in a passage quoted by Dr. Taylor, says:—
‘The Gave serpentines through the charming undulating country that surrounds the town. Grain, meadows, and vines diversify the scenery, and innumerable country-houses are everywhere scattered around. Nothing can exceed the beauty of the promenades in the neighbourhood of Pau. Some lie alongside the Gave, others along the banks of the smaller river.’
The road to Bordeaux and the other roads out of Pau seem to be all lined with regimental rows of poplars, shady perhaps in sunshine, but stiff. Some neat villas in nicely-planted gardens in the outskirts of the town—delightful retreats—are let furnished. I had the pleasure of meeting a very old Scotch friend, who, after having tried many places, has found the climate of Pau to be most suitable, and has accordingly built just out of town an elegant villa for permanent residence.
There are, I believe, many excellent excursions from Pau, such as a drive to Lourdes, 25 miles distant—a long day’s work for the horses there and back, but, I was told and can readily believe, most enjoyable. In the summer-time, everybody who can, escapes to the mountains, where so many charming spots, including Eaux-Chaudes and Eaux-Bonnes, are to be found.