CHAPTER VII.

ST. SAUVEUR.

Pont de Pescadere--Sa.s.sis--Gave de Gavarnie--St. Sauveur--Hotel de France--Pont Napoleon--Napoleon's pillar--Bee orchids--Chapel of Solferino--The view from thence--Ne'er a hermit but for gold--Luz Cemetery--Luz Post Office--Short cuts--Pharmacie Claverie--Jardin a l'Anglaise--Ascent of Pic de Bergons--Villenave--The shepherds'

huts--Lunch--Snow, its use and abuse--On foot--"Excelsior"--Dangerous footing--The last crest but one--The view--Gavarnie and Argeles in sight--A lazy guide--A "fast" bit--Mountain flowers--Mr. Sydney to the fore--A short walk and a good view--To Sazos and Grust--The bathing establishments--Sazos: the old church--The belfry--Chiming extraordinary--Various promenades--Gems of hill and vale.

At the bridge known as the Pont de Pescadere the road from Pierrefitte forks; the branch to the left leads to Luz, while the road to St.

Sauveur branches off to the right, and pa.s.ses through the village of Sa.s.sis, above which is the more important one of Sazos. Then, keeping to the riverside till within half a mile of the town, it throws out a branch over the Gave de Gavarnie to Luz, and bending in the opposite direction, winds steeply past the baths to the hotels.

Like many of the villages in j.a.pan, and especially along the great Nakasendo, St. Sauveur possesses one single street. The resemblance continues further with the fine scenery, but there it ends. The look of the houses and the comfort of the Hotel de France find, alas! no parallel yet in the interior of that wonderful country.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ST. SAUVEUR.]

We came to St. Sauveur direct without stopping at Luz, but as the latter is the larger town--in fact the mainstay of the former, and also the nearer to Pierrefitte--we have given it precedence. For situation and all other qualifications, except as a residence in winter, St.

Sauveur easily bears away the palm. The morning after our arrival, when the sun was shining brightly, we walked up through the remainder of the diminutive town to the Pont Napoleon, one of the most remarkable bridges in the Pyrenees. The bridge itself is 216 feet above the river, and sixty-nine feet wide; but it is not so much the construction --though that is well carried out--as the position, which especially attracts on a lovely spring morning. The river, of a beautiful light green tint, wandering down the valley towards Pierrefitte, the trees with varied foliage crowding the slopes above, the glimpse of Saint Sauveur with its church, and the hills with the snowpeaks beyond, on either side--made such a glorious _ensemble_ as we were not slow to appreciate.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PONT NAPOLeON, ST. SAUVEUR.]

But this was not all--nor nearly all--for not only had we the view of the grand rocky gorge from which the river issues above, but we could also take the easy gradient down to the riverside itself, which leads from the near side of the bridge, as well as survey the loveliness from the terrace at the base of the arch, on the side beyond. Having crossed this fine piece of engineering, and pa.s.sed the pillar surmounted by an eagle erected in honour of Napoleon III. and the Empress Eugenie, we found the road led at right angles in both directions. The one to the right, to Gavarnie, we hoped to take thither later; the one to the left, leading to Luz, we followed there and then. After curving once or twice within view of the bridge, it bifurcates, forming an upper and a lower route, both of which lead to Luz, if desired. The lower, which is the direct route from Gavarnie to Luz, we abstained from taking, preferring the upper road to the right, which leads past fields resplendent with flowers (among which the "bee" orchid is noticeable), to the chapel of Solferino.

The view from the hill on which the chapel is built is an excellent one. Looking towards Luz, several small villages may be seen up the Bareges valley, with the Pic de Mont Aigu, and the Pic d'Ayre (7931 feet) on the right, and--immediately over against the town--the Pic de Nere on the left. Looking towards Pierrefitte, other small villages, and the whole of the Luz valley; on the left, St. Sauveur, and, above the almost indistinguishable village of Sa.s.sis, the Col de Riou, with the Pic de Viscos beyond. Looking towards the Pont Napoleon, the Pic de Bergons (6792 ft.) towers up on the left, and on the right may be easily noted the toothed Pic du Lac Grand the Col d'Aubiste, and the loftier Pic (8863 ft.) of the same name, besides a glimpse of pastures and foaming cascades as well. There is very little in the chapel itself except its history and its cold atmosphere. It is supposed to be an exact copy of the ancient Hermitage of St. Peter, which formerly stood on the same spot. The bones of the last good man, for whom "gaieties had no attraction whatever," and who consequently shut himself up for "years and years" in the dismal building, were collected by Napoleon III.'s command, and buried under the statue erected in front. There is a woman that calls herself the guardian (not angel) of the place, and demands a small gratuity in exchange for any amount of unnecessary talking; judging by her appearance, we decided she was _not_ a hermit nor a particularly small eater either, though her stature was decidedly diminutive. Two tracks lead from this hill to Luz. One winding down on the left forms the branch route to St. Sauveur, the other, to the right--which we took--pa.s.ses the cemetery, and leaving the new church in the same direction, leads to the back of the ancient fane of the Templars, through the town.

After transacting a little business at the post-office (there is none at St. Sauveur except in the season), which stands in one of the princ.i.p.al streets traversed on the route to Bareges, we returned to St.

Sauveur by another way. The ordinary short cut from Luz to St. Sauveur crosses the bridge over the Gave leaving the Gavarnie road on the left, and turning sharply up a short distance beyond the river, joins the high road above the "Pharmacie Clavarie," near an ornamental pillar.

We, however, bore up the Gavarnie road till, reaching a cottage, we pursued the narrow path obviously conducting to the river, over which a wooden bridge--whence a pretty view can be obtained,--leads to the Jardin a l'Anglaise. This garden, much frequented during the summer months, brought us in turn, by means of zigzags and steps, close to our hotel, and though it may be slightly longer than the "short cut," we certainly found it prettier and more agreeable.

There is one excursion from St. Sauveur, which is not very difficult nor laborious, and which well repays the certain amount of exertion that is at all times a.s.sociated with ascents. This is the ascent of the Pic de Bergons. Although we could tell before we started that the snow would prevent us from reaching the summit, we nevertheless had hopes of arriving very near it; and finding a beautiful day, as it were, staring us in the face, we ordered round the horses and a somewhat aged guide, and were in motion by ten o'clock. Reaching the further end of the Pont Napoleon, we found the path striking off immediately before us, and the work began. The gradient for several minutes rose rather sharply, and as the road was anything but a pleasant or even one, the labour for the horses was considerable; but they went very willingly, until, at our arrival at a couple of cottages, we halted to give them a few minutes'

rest.

Until then we had been winding up the face of the hill, but after leaving the cottages, the track bearing round to the side brought us above Luz, over which and the whole valley we had a splendid view. Not far from this point, the path from Luz, _via_ Villenave, joined in, but no improvement in the general unevenness and stoniness of it was effected. With a barren gorge on our left, and the green pastures with the snow-peaks of Bugaret and Maucapera towering behind them, straight before us, we followed the disagreeable zigzags, our horses always on the very edge, as though courting our overthrow, till, finding on reaching the "cabanes" some shepherds kindly and well disposed, we repaired to the shelter that their cow-house wall afforded, to eat our lunch. The meal was a success, as such meals, when the victuals are good and the appet.i.tes hearty, usually are, and the _vin ordinaire_, cooled to a pleasant extent with snow from a neighbouring drift, tasted like nectar. But the same snow which was so delightful in the claret, interfered sadly with our locomotion, and having finished our luncheon, we had next to dispose of our horses, and commence the rest of the ascent on foot. Striking straight up from the hut, we soon attained a narrow track winding up the wooded hill to the left, and without much difficulty or exertion, found ourselves within view of St. Sauveur, and a great part of the mountains and valleys.

However, we were yet some way from the summit, or even the highest attainable point (the summit being unattainable on account of snow), so we pulled ourselves into form, and whispering to one another to have "courage," we moved upwards again. A small rocky backbone was next attained, but still the higher crests remained, and seemed to say, "Excelsior." The guide got lazy, and preferred to study a little geology to mounting any higher, so we left him to pursue his researches and strode on. Between the next point, gained after some little work, and the last crete below the actual summit, several banks of snow lay, and rendered progress difficult. In two places a sharp decline, with no chance of clutching anything in case of falling, presented itself to dull our hopes, but by dint of using the alpenstocks well, and making deep tracks in the semi-melting snow, we reached the desired crest, with nothing but the white and inaccessible summit above. The view was a very fine one, and fully justified all expectations, although our lazy guide was effectually shut out from our gaze. The miniature town of St. Sauveur looked like a tiny model, with every accessory that could add to its charming position. To the left, high above us, the mighty Barbe de Bouch (9624 ft.) stood out just below the clouds, in which the still loftier and very stony Pic d'Ardiden (9804 ft.) was partially hidden. Further in the same direction the familiar forms of the Pics d'Aubiste and Litouese, and further yet, the Tour and Casque of the Gavarnie Cirque, stood out as snowy and as clear as the most eager sightseer could wish. Over the town itself the Pic du Lacgrand, and down the valley to the right, the Col de Riou and the Pic de Viscos, were plainly visible; while the town of Argeles and the hills beyond it, required no gla.s.s to point out their position at the end of the splendid gorge. Over against Luz the Col d'Arbeousse and the Pic de Nere (7880 ft.); with the Pic Bugaret (8859 ft.), the Maucapera (8893 ft.), and the ma.s.sive Mont Arrouye (10,299 ft.), facing them, above the hut where we had lunched, added their attractions to swell the beauty of our view.

When we thought we had really taken in all that we could, we did not stay on our lofty perch much longer, fearing the result of our guide's geological researches; however, we found him still fairly well, and very little less lazy, so took him for a little jolting down a rather "fast" bit, which not only woke him up, but brought us quickly down to our shepherd's hut again. Partly riding and partly walking, the rest of the descent was successfully accomplished, including the gathering of gentians, bee orchids, mountain violets, and both _Polygalae_; [Footnote: _Polygala rosea_ and _P. amara._] while Mr. Sydney triumphed in the very laudable effort of showing the lazy guide how things could be managed, by arriving at the foot of the mountain some twenty minutes before him. A very short trot brought us to the hotel in time for some half-past five tea, having taken seven and a half hours over our trip, including the hour spent for lunch.

Between the Hotel de France and the Pont Napoleon a narrow path strikes up to the right, almost opposite a large white house a short distance beyond the church; this we found a very pleasant quarter of an hour's walk, leading by an easy gradient to a good point of view. Box plants, with their bright leaves here and there changing into a rich red, lined the way, and many flowers, including gentians, added their charm. From the rock at which we terminated our walks, a fine view of the Pic de Bergons, two cascades, the gorge towards Gavarnie and St. Sauveur, the Pont Napoleon, and a small defile on the immediate right, was our reward.

Another pleasant promenade and not a very long one, which we much enjoyed, was to the villages of Sazos and Grust, in the direction of the ascent of the Col de Riou and the Pic de Viscos. We followed the high road down through the town, pa.s.sing in turn the Roman-like and commodious baths, the path leading to the Hontalade establishment on the left, and the Pharmacie Claverie on the right; and just before the branch route from Luz joins in, took the left track up the side of the hill. Pretty views of the different valleys unfolded to our gaze as we continued on our way, while a splendid vista of villages lay before us when we reached the platform s.p.a.ce on which an iron cross is erected, a short way below Sazos. The village itself, as well as that of Grust, which lies within easy distance above it, is a quaint, old-fashioned place. The church is the chief attraction; in fact, immediately Miss Blunt found herself within the ancient exterior portal, she demanded paper and pencil, and although all the paper forthcoming was the back of an envelope and a telegraph form, managed to turn out an efficient representation of the old Roman fane. In exploring it afterwards at our leisure, we were struck by several peculiarities which produced mingled feelings. Inside the doorway, two curious flights of steps lead to the narrow galleries and the belfry, the final flight being totally devoid of either "sweetness" or light. Having examined the bells and heard the clock strike three, we began the descent. In the darkness we certainly did clutch a vertical rope, but could that simple act--we ask in a whisper--have had such an unusual effect as causing the clock to repeat its striking? For, whether or not, before we reached the ground, the three strokes rang out again. The carving over the altar is good, and the general effect of the whole church is likewise; but the supposed model of the grotto at Lourdes, and the awful painting in the side altar on the left, certainly do not add to its beauty.

The children regarded us with inquisitive looks as we came away, but seemed to wish to keep at a safe distance. Whether the double striking of the clock had had a peculiar effect on them we did not, however, wait to inquire, but after taking a drink at the fountain, proceeded on our homeward way.

Any one making a lengthened stay can find out plenty of similarly enjoyable walks; in fact, one of St. Sauveur's chief charms lies in its favourable situation for such pursuits. The neighbourhood is very rich in flora, small jonquils, daffodils, oxslips, hyacinths, violets, _polygala, potentilla_, anemones, _Ramondia pyrenaca, Primula farinosa,_ large and small gentians, _linaria,_ and bee orchids being among the easiest to find.

Before we started on the great drive to Luchon, we successfully accomplished a delightful day's outing to Gavarnie, but as it is full of interest and majesty, we give it a chapter to itself.

CHAPTER VIII.

GAVARNIE.

A "falling gla.s.s"--The wonderful echo--Cascade La.s.sariou--Sia and its bridge--Pont de Desdouroucat--"Changing scenes"--Bugaret torrent--The Pimene--Bue--Gedre--Breche de Roland in the distance--The "Grotto"--Scenery at fivepence per head--Daffodils--Lofty summits--Cascade d'Arroudet--Chaos--Valley of the "Ten Thousand Rocks,"

Amoy--A dirty avalanche--The Sugar-loaf--Travellers' troubles --Importunate females--Hotel des Voyageurs--Poc--Guide or no guide--Chute de Lapaca--The guardian summits of the Cirque--Cascade du Marbore--Chandelles du Marbore--The Cirque--Its marvellous beauty--Reluctantly returning--"The Guide's Auction"--"Two women enough for a market, and three for a fair"--A Yankee tale--Sketching and flowers--Tempers and appet.i.tes.

There is no excursion from Luz or St. Sauveur for which it is so necessary to have a fine day, or which is so wonderfully unique, as that to the Cirque of Gavarnie. We were forced to wait several days; the barometer always, stupidly enough, wanting to fall, until on the third day of the moon it slowly began to rise, and gave us hopes for a start on the following morning. The following morning arrived, and with it a heavy fall of snow, decking the hills quite low down with a white mantle, and gloomily screening the view.

However, about nine o'clock, the sun burst forth, the clouds rose, the blue sky appeared, and we felt that our opportunity had come. The lunch and the landau, with four horses, were ordered for ten o'clock, and at 10.15 we were on our way. Through the town, past the church and over the fine Pont Napoleon we went, our hearts--eager to appreciate --finding no lack of food.

Keeping along the base of the Pic de Bergons, with the Pic du Lac Grand rivalling it on the other side of the defile, we soon sighted the chasm and cascade of Rioumaou on our left, and reached the Pas de l'Ech.e.l.le.

At 1 metre 50 centimetres, or 43/4 feet, from the extremity of the ornamental facing which marks the place, we pulled up, to try the magnificent echo, and were in no way disappointed. Our voices came back particularly clearly, but from the coach-box the sound was stronger. On ahead again, still by the base of the Pic de Bergons, with the mighty Col and Pic d'Aubiste (8863 ft.) majestic across the river; till, at the foot of the Pic, where the sparkling Cascade de La.s.sariou comes tumbling down, the wretched hamlet of Sia, with its "quatre moulins"

and very fine bridge, broke into view. Traversing the Pont de Sia--distant about three miles from Luz and built when the new road was made two years ago--we kept the right side of the Gave, and, with the Pic de Litouese towering above us, reached the Pont de Desdouroucat (4 3/8 miles), and again pa.s.sed to the opposite bank, leaving the remains of the old route on the side whence we came. The sky was clearing more and more, and before us, over Gavarnie, it was one pure expanse of blue. The gorge was very wild, but with a wildness of piled-up crags and blackened sides that the beautiful winding river and the spring tints helped to beautify and subdue. Presently the ma.s.sive Brada, up the grand Gorge de Bacheviron, came in sight on our left, and as we pa.s.sed the insignificant hamlet of Pragneres (43/4 miles), where the torrent of Bugaret dashes down into the Gave, the Brada looked more ma.s.sive still. Thus it continued all along the route, every bend of the road bringing something new--whether a cascade, a valley, or a lofty peak, always something to claim attention and praise. At such a bend, shortly after quitting Pragneres, the great snow-crowned Pimene (9193 ft.) seemed to bar the way; while at another, the hamlet of Bue and the Col de Bue appeared on the right, and at another, again, Mont Ferrat (10,575 ft.), up the Heas valley on the left. Not very much further, when bending into Gedre, we obtained a splendid glimpse of La Tour and La Casque du Marbore and the Breche de Roland. Gedre (8 miles), like all the rest of the villages or hamlets in the vicinity, is a miserable, poverty-stricken-looking place, but with picturesque surroundings. It is a good centre for numerous excursions--notably that to the Cirque de Troumouse--and possesses an excellent botanist as well as a celebrated grotto.

[Footnote: The grotto's notoriety is gained, perhaps, by its imposture; it is in reality no grotto, but a very pretty bit of scenery nevertheless, on a fine day.]

Stopping at the house by the bridge, we were escorted by the good woman into her garden and down some steps to a platform, whence the so-called grotto was to be surveyed. It is a very picturesque spot. The lofty walls of perpendicular rock, the overhanging bushes and flowers, the trees above, the field beyond, and the blue water of the Gave de Heas foaming beneath, are charming enough, with the aid of rays of sunlight, to make the spot famous, and the good woman chuckle as she pockets the half-franc per head.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE VILLAGE OF GeDRE.]

Starting again, we commenced the zigzag ascent past the church--the road winding among fields golden with daffodils, mingling here and there with the lovely blue of the gentians and the pink _Primula farinosa_--towards the base of the Coumelie, the mule-path to the Cirque de Troumouse leading through a field above us, as we reached the zigzag's top. Still gently ascending round the foot of the Coumelie, the pointed summit of the lofty Taillon (10,323 ft.) came into view ahead, with the grandiose Campbieil (10,418 ft.) up the Heas valley; and the Pic de Saugue immediately above on the right, from whose height the splendid Cascade d'Arroudet, dashing past the shepherds' cottages, launches its foaming showers into the river below. A few more graceful curvings of the road and we entered the region so aptly termed "Chaos."

Attributed to an earthquake at the end of the fourteenth century, rightly or wrongly, the fact nevertheless remains that one of the huge b.u.t.tresses of the Coumelie became detached from the main summit, and dashed down in enormous blocks to the valley below. There they lie, the road pa.s.sing between, in the wildest and most indescribable confusion.

Here a heap piled one above another, there a mighty shoulder split in twain by a conical fragment which rests in the breach that it made; some towering above the road, others blocking the river below, a few isolated and many half-buried; but all combining to form as wild and wonderful a chaos as the eye could wish to gaze on, but which the pen must fail to describe. Far away on the sh.o.r.es of China, at the port of Amoy, is another scene which, though it must yield the palm to this, is nevertheless one of a similarly wild nature. The "Valley of the Ten Thousand Rocks," as the spot is called, in the midst of which stands a joss-house (or temple), may be reached in a pleasant walk from the harbour of Amoy, by way of the wonderful Rocking Stone, and along paths lined with aloes and cacti. There the gra.s.s grows between the confusion of boulders, and the Chinamen's incense ascends to the blue sky; but these points of difference from the Chaos of Gavarnie, though tending to subdue part of the barren wildness, nevertheless still leave a resemblance between the two scenes that is worthy of record.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Leaving this "boulder" region behind us, we pa.s.sed through a huge avalanche that stood in frozen filthiness far above the carriage on each side of the road, while immediately over us on the left rose the mountain from which it had come--rightly named the Sugar-loaf--and opposite, on the right, the serrated summit of the Soum de Secugnac (8442 ft.).

At this point one of the many nuisances which ought to be cla.s.sed under the head of "Travellers' Troubles," commenced. In the distance, but coming swiftly towards us, or rather as swiftly as a broken-winded, raw-boned, jolting apology-for-a-horse would allow, was _a_ woman, and alas! in her train were several others; a few on or with donkeys, but more on foot. In vain we told them that we would engage no donkeys at all, and no horses till we reached our destination; in vain we bade them allow us to "pursue the even tenor of our way" in peace, and hush their high soprano tones. It was one perpetual babble in praise of their horses, their donkeys, and their capabilities as guides, with the constant repet.i.tion of the names of the surrounding peaks, which we already knew perfectly well. When we reached the gorge which opens up on the right, as though the earth had been split by some mighty shock, and through which the majestic Vignemale (10,821 ft.) was perfectly visible, the storm of voices directing our attention to the sight was as loud as it was unsolicited. But happily we were then close to Gavarnie, and crossing the bridge with a momentary glimpse at the Cirque, we drew up at the door of the Hotel des Voyageurs.

After lunching and engaging our steeds, with an intelligent guide, who answered to the euphonious name of "Poc," we left the greatly disappointed donkey women still making a terrible clamour, and started for the Cirque.

As far as finding out the proper route goes, and that is a long way, no guide whatever is required, but in order to learn the names of the various peaks and other interesting facts, it is distinctly necessary to have one, unless the traveller possesses a very elaborate plan of the vicinity.

Leaving the new bridge to the left, as well as a very ancient one, and the plashing fall known as the "Chute de Lapaca," we turned round in the opposite direction, and pa.s.sing the "Hotel de la Cascade" and a wooden hut, again turned to the left, down what, though an execrable road, led, nevertheless, to the object of our desires. At this turn the Pic d'Aspe reared above us on the right, succeeded by barren hills covered with loose stones, but as we proceeded, the famous central excursion--the Pimene (9193 ft.)--came in sight on the opposite side, followed by the Breche d'Allanz, the Pic Rouge de Pailla (9107 ft.), Pic d'Astazou (10,106 ft.), the Cylindre (10,916 ft), and even the Marbore (9964 ft.) itself.

Between the Marbore and the Epaule de Marbore (10673 ft.), nearer the centre of the Cirque, the celebrated Cascade du Marbore, (1380 ft. in height) dashes during the warmer months. The curious summits known as La Tour (9902 ft.) and La Casque (9862 ft.), almost equidistant from the centre of the Cirque, on opposite sides, stood clearly before us, with the snow lying below each in the serrated shapes which give rise to the term "Chandelles du Marbore." The Breche de Roland was--as it always is from this view--invisible, hidden behind the Pic de Sarradets (8993 ft.); but the Fausse Breche beyond, and more to the right the magnificent Taillon (10,323 ft.), and the Pic de Gabietou, with the Port de Gavarnie--a peculiar shoulder-like rock, below them both--filled up the semicircle in all its wonderful entirety. When at last we reached the point whence the whole can be viewed to most advantage, we did not require the a.s.sertion of the guide that we were in enjoyment of one of the best days of the year, to increase our admiration and delight.

The amphitheatre, standing before us like the ruins of some mighty arena, in which the throngs of eager men and women and the blood of the dying gladiator had long given place to the purifying snow; the summits around uplifted towards the blue sky; the cascade, no longer dashing as full of life and hope, but frozen in its course and hanging in icicles between the rocks; the few uncovered crags scattered here and there, relieving the dazzling whiteness of the "glace eternelle"; the spa.r.s.e trees down the outer slopes struggling to free themselves from their winter cloak; the cloud of frost scintillating in the sunlight as a ma.s.s of loosened snow rushed into the depths below;--was not such a scene as this, presented to our gaze in unveiled splendour, more than sufficient to bewilder in the intensity of its majesty and loveliness?

Yet even this was not all. The silence, the solemn and perfect silence, that reigned over the whole, only broken by the dull sound of the falling avalanche or the shrill voice of the restless crow, was so evident and so powerful, and combined so impressively with the marvellous beauty of the surroundings, that the heart could not fail to recognise the sublimity of Nature and the omnipotence of Nature's G.o.d!

We stayed there for a long time, and with great reluctance turned our horses' heads from the scene; while even when we had done so, we stopped at nearly every bend of the road for another look.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CIRQUE OF GAVARNIE (IN SUMMER).]

The exact distance from the hotel to the extreme end of the Cirque is calculated at 33/4 miles, but we traversed little more than two-thirds of that distance, on account of the depth of the avalanches, which were then melting far too quickly to allow of dry walking any further.