Thus, the place I know best, and where I have stopped most o

THE PYRENEES

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

PARIS

MARIE ANTOINETTE

EMMANUEL BURDEN, MERCHANT

A CHANGE IN THE CABINET

HILLS AND THE SEA

ON NOTHING AND KINDRED SUBJECTS

ON EVERYTHING

ON SOMETHING

FIRST AND LAST

THIS AND THAT AND THE OTHER

ON

A PICKED COMPANY

[Illustration: THE GATE OF THE ROUSILLON

_H. Belloc, del._]

THE PYRENEES

BY

H. BELLOC

WITH NUMEROUS SKETCHES

BY THE AUTHOR

AND TWENTY-TWO MAPS

FOURTH EDITION

WITH A NEW PREFACE

[Illustration]

METHUEN & CO. LTD.

36 ESSEX STREET W.C.

LONDON

_First Published (Demy 8vo)_ _June 3rd 1909_

_Second Edition_ _June 1916_

_Third Edition (Crown 8vo)_ _April 1923_

_Fourth Edition (Crown 8vo)_ _1928_

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

TO

GILBERT MOORHEAD

IN PIOUS MEMORY OF PAMPLONA, ELIZONDO, THE CANON WHO SHOT QUAILS WITH A

WALKING-STICK, THE IGNORANT HIERARCH, THE CHOCOLATE OF THE AGED WOMAN,

THE ONE-EYED HORSE OF THE PEÑA BLANCA, THE MIRACULOUS BRIDGE, AND THE

UNHOLY VISION OF ST. GIRONS.

PREFACE

The only object of this book is to provide, for those who desire to do

as I have done in the Pyrenees, a general knowledge of the mountains in

which they propose to travel.

I have paid particular attention to make clear those things which I

myself only learned slowly during several journeys and after much

reading, and which I would like to have been told before I first set

out. I could not pretend within the limits of this book, or with such an

object in view, to write anything in the nature of a Guide, and indeed

there are plenty of books of that sort from which one can learn most

that is necessary to ordinary travel upon the frontier of France and

Spain; but I proposed when I began these few pages to set down what a man

might not find in such books: as—what he should expect in certain inns,

by what track he might best see certain districts, what difficulties he

was to expect upon the crest of the mountains, how long a time crossings

apparently short might take him, what the least kit was which he could

carry into the hills, how he had best camp and find his way and the rest,

what maps were at his disposal, the advantages of each map, its defects,

and so forth. The little of general matter which I have admitted into my

pages—a dissertation upon the physical nature of the chain, and a shorter

division upon its political character—I have strictly limited to what

I thought necessary to that general understanding of a mountain without

which travel upon it would be a poor pleasure indeed.

If I have admitted such petty details as the times of trains, and the

cost of a journey from London, it is because I have found those petty

details to be of the first importance to myself, as indeed they must be

to all those who have but little leisure. I have in everything attempted

to set down only that which would be really useful to a man on foot

or driving in that country, and only that which he could not easily

obtain in other books. Thus I have carefully set down directions as

minute as possible for finding particular crossings and camping grounds,

for the finding of which the ordinary Guide Book is of no service. My

chief regret is that the book will necessarily be too bulky to carry in

the pocket; for it is meant to be not so much a lively as an accurate

companion to the general exploration of those high hills which have given

me so much delight.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION

This third edition of my book on the Pyrenees necessarily suffers

somewhat from the fact that it is published after the interval of the

Great War.

The book in its original form was written in the course of 1908-09, and

contained a number of particular details on prices, etc., which the war

has completely changed. These I have had to revise _only approximately_,

for the value of the franc still fluctuates violently. But the present

conditions of currency in Europe are not permanent. In other matters the

book is as applicable to the present condition of the Pyrenees as it was

to that thirteen or fourteen years ago. The road system is the same,

and though one or two of the inns may have changed hands, the account

of these I give holds in the main. There have been no new maps issued,

either, since the date on which the book was written. I have not added

anything on the present system of passports, because that also presumably

will be out of date in a short time; but I may mention that at the moment

of writing these lines (September, 1922), it is advisable to have one’s

passport _viséd_ to Spain before visiting the mountains. Even if the

reader has no intention of crossing the frontier he may be compelled to

do so under stress of weather, or he may easily do so by error in the

confusion of the higher valleys, and in the first Spanish town he comes

to his passport is sure to be demanded.

The train service differs little now from what it was before the war.

The night and day services and the average number of hours required for

approaching the mountains from Paris or London, are again much what they

were fourteen years ago.

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION

I write this Preface to the Fourth Edition after five years.

My last note upon this book was written, as the reader will see, for the

Third Edition, in September, 1922. These lines are written in November,

1927.

When I wrote my Preface to the Third Edition, Europe, its currencies, and

the rest, were still under the heavy disturbances of the Great War. But

things are now more settled, notably currencies. Also a few more years of

peace have given both French and Spaniards the opportunity for building

new roads, and for extending the railway system.

In the notes I am about to add here I ought to make it clear that I

am writing principally by information rather than by direct personal

experience, and anyone who finds that some point ought to be corrected or

something added, and who will communicate with the publishers, or with

myself care of the publishers, will be doing the future readers of this

book a great service. I am sure to be making some mistakes, and the less

there are in any future edition the better.

I humbly beg the reader to remember that the book was written in the old

days of peace, “before ever the sons of Achaia came to the land.” It

was also written when I was a young man and could go over any number of

miles on foot in any weather and over pretty well anything—even the worst

steeps of the Canal Roya, though I have no claim to climbing. To-day I

can do none of these things, and have to go by hearsay. I propose to

divide what I have to say into (1) general remarks, (2) additions to

the road system, (3) the (comparatively slight) changes in the railroad

system (including the change in the value of money and present prices of

tickets), (4) changes in inns (here I shall have to be very tentative,

for I have to go mainly by reports), and (5) maps.

(1) GENERAL

The political situation has so developed that it is no longer advisable,

as I formerly said, but _necessary_ to have one’s passport _viséd_ for

Spain before starting for the Pyrenees, even if one has no intention of

crossing the frontier. For, as I said when the book was written, there

are occasions when the traveller on foot in the mountains may cross

the frontier unwittingly, and have to deal with the authorities on the

farther side. To this must be added the consideration that a stricter

central government in Spain, coupled with occasional plots against

it, has made the frontier authorities particularly vigilant. They may

take from a traveller anything which looks like an offensive weapon—an

acquaintance of mine was deprived, for instance, of a very large stick,

and he might have fared worse with a very large knife. It is well to

remember that when you enter Spain by this frontier you are coming in

by its most remote, least peopled, and most difficult area, and that

one must have nothing to explain if one can help it. I mean, of course,

when you enter over the main range; for the two main roads and railways

at either end of the chain by the sea-coasts of the Atlantic and the

Mediterranean are common international highways.

Another point to remember, which is a small one but now and then, though

very rarely, important to the traveller, is that the variation in the

compass has changed since this book was written. It was written twenty

years ago, and was published nearly nineteen years ago, and since then

the variation of the compass has lessened (for this part of the world)

by something like three degrees. The traveller must further remember

that (though it is not very strictly enforced) there is a new law in

France both for travellers proposing to reside a certain time in the

country and (this is strictly enforced) a daily tax for travellers using

foreign motor-cars in the country; while all the Spanish corresponding

regulations have been tightened up. The wise thing to do, therefore, if

you mean to spend more than a fortnight in these hills on either side

of the border, is to inform yourself thoroughly upon arrival of what

is required of you. You can do it in France easily enough; but as on

the Spanish side the main towns are a long way from the range, you will

do well, if you intend to spend any number of days to the south of the

frontier, to find out at the Spanish Consulate in London or at your

nearest large town what formalities may be needed.

On the effect of the change in prices I deal elsewhere. But there are two

things to be remembered here, with one of which most people are familiar,

but the other of which most people have not as yet appreciated. The first

is that on the French as on the Spanish side, but much more on the French

side than on the Spanish, the old unit of currency does not mean, in

gold, what it meant when this book was written.

In France it means _in gold_ only _one-fifth_ at the present apparently

stabilized rate of what it meant when I first put these pages together.

We are on a gold basis in England. A franc used, before the war, to be

nearly 10_d._ It is to-day almost exactly 2_d._ On the Spanish side the

peseta fluctuates somewhat, but at the moment of writing it is well below

thirty (twenty-eight odd), which means that the peseta, once nominally

equal to the franc, is between 8_d._ and 9_d._, or rather more than four

times the present value of the franc.

But the second point, which is much less generally appreciated, is even

more important to retain. _Prices in gold have changed._ There are all

sorts of views as to the real amount of the change; but I think we are

not very far wrong in basing any calculation of expense upon a basis of

doubling. At any rate, if you do that you will not be disappointed. The

gold franc or gold peseta buys in 1927 more than half as much, but not

much more than half as much, as it did before the war. In other words,

the franc to-day is not in practice half of a fifth, that is, one-tenth,

of what it was before the war, nor is the peseta in practice as little as

fourpence halfpenny compared with prices before the war. You get more for

your money than such a rough rule of thumb would warrant. But remember

that you are getting things cheaper than the strict gold basis would

allow. For instance, I know of one particular inn on the French side of

the frontier, high up in the valleys (it is a very good one and a typical

one), where they charge for food, including wine, and lodging, fifty to

sixty francs a day. You would not have got the same thing for five or six

francs in 1914; but you would have got it for seven or eight. My object

in emphasizing this is to prevent the traveller from thinking that under

modern conditions he is being bled. It is rather the other way. He is

getting things somewhat cheaper still in these mountains than world

prices would warrant. He must expect to pay on the very different scale I

have indicated.

Lastly, let me add in connexion with prices that, for a variety of

reasons which it would take too long to go into, he must expect a very

distinct rise in general expenses as measured in English exchange when he

passes from French into Spanish territory. He must allow for something

like an increase of a third, and perhaps in the larger towns of a half of

what he pays on the French side.

Further, when he is looking for anything like luxury, even in the

humblest sense of that term, he must be prepared to pay (e.g. for foreign

wines, or for well-appointed travel by car) nearly double on the Spanish

side what he would have to pay on the French.

The traveller should remember that there has been a very great expansion

of good roads on the Spanish side compared with what there was when this

book was written, and with that has gone an almost universal system of

motor-buses, which have quite changed travel on the southern side of the

range. He will do well always to ask before trying to go by the slow and

few trains what the motor-bus services are. Thus, in the old days when

this book was written, a man had either to go on foot or by slow horse

vehicles across Roncesvalles to Pamplona. To-day there is a first-rate

service of rapid motor-buses, and he will find that to be the case pretty

well everywhere between the Mediterranean end and the Atlantic.

(2) ROADS

In the matter of new roads a great deal has been done since this book

was written. First and most important, one can go by a good road now

over the Bonaigua. I regret it, but so it is. The road does not, indeed,

follow the old track of adventure from the Noguera to the Upper Garonne.

It goes somewhat to the north of it. But it constitutes, what did not

before exist, a proper crossing supplementary to the two roads of Sallent

and Jaca. It leads down through the hitherto impassable centre of the

range to Lerida, and makes of the Val d’Aran, which used to be a most

secluded pocket, a thoroughfare.

Next, there is now a road which a motor car can follow from Seo de Urgel

to Andorra the Old. In my time no wheeled vehicle had entered Andorra.

They used to boast also that no man had ever been put to death there by

process of law. I hope that progress has not changed that.

Next note that there is a road for motors now through Bourg Madame,

through Puigcerdá to Seo, and so down into Spain, and further a

first-class road from Puigcerdá to Barcelona over the Pass by Ripoll,

which I think did not exist when I was a younger man. The main road from

Burguete to Pamplona, cutting off the great corner at Aoiz and passing

through Erro and Larrasoaña, has long been completed; it is now served by

a good service of motor-buses.

Of secondary roads that up the valley of Salazar reaches as far north

as Izalzu; that up the valley of Roncal as far as Uztarroz. So if you

are crossing the Basque ridge anywhere between St. Jean Pied de Port and

Tardets you will find the beginning of a road on the southern side at

either of these points.

On the French side there are few important changes. I am afraid that the

very difficult road overhanging the precipices between Argelès and Larunz

has not been made less difficult. It is well called Mount Ugly. If you

care for the experience, it is exciting enough. Nothing, I fear, could

make this road easy without a high parapet at its worst stretch; and that

might be a danger of a new kind, by giving the driver too much confidence.

There is some secondary extension of the road beyond Gavarnie up to the

frontier. I see it marked: I have not myself tried it. You can get up

from Tardets nowadays by a road both to Ste. Engrace and Larrau, and

there is something of a road up the Arette from Aramitz. For the rest,

I believe there is on the French side no change, but developments were

proposed some little time ago, and if there have been any quite recent

changes which any of my readers can acquaint me with they will oblige me

by mentioning them for a further edition.

(3) RAILROADS

The railroad system is, for the practical purposes of travel, what it was

when I wrote the book so many years ago. But we are on the eve of very

important changes. One cannot yet travel by train under the Pass of the

Somport and so directly to Saragossa from Toulouse or Bordeaux. But the

tunnel has long been completed, the rails are being laid—indeed, perhaps

at the moment of writing they may be already in position. I cannot find

out from the authorities when they think the first train will go through.

Perhaps they do not know themselves. It is amusing to hear that the

tunnel is now continually used by foot-passengers, who are escorted in

a gang and who (so I am assured) have their passports examined in the

bowels of the earth, some thousands of feet below the summit of the main

ridge.

The railway from Ax over the Hospitalet is in a more backward

state—hardly more than surveyed—and I know not when it is designed to

open. On the other hand, the through railway by the Cerdagne is now

virtually completed; there are only a few hundred yards to be finished;

one still has to go in a vehicle or walk from Puigcerdá station to Bourg

Madame, a matter of a mile or so; but whenever the authorities choose one

can have through traffic through this very fine piece of scenery round

from Perpignan to Ripoll and Barcelona.

I append what may be of use, though of course it is a changeable thing,

a note on the main trains for approaching the Pyrenees as the time-table

now stands, with the prices under the new currency and their equivalents

in English money; this time-table changes of course, and inquiry must

always be made, but the main trains (e.g. the Sud Express) are much the

same year after year.

The three main lines of approach to the Pyrenees remain what they were

when this book was written, the western one by Bordeaux, the central one

by Toulouse, the eastern one by Lyons, Nîmes, and Perpignan. Of these the

first is the most rapid; and of the two routes to Bordeaux—the State Line

and the Orleans Line—the latter is the quicker. The day train leaves at

8.8 in the morning from the Quai d’Orsay, and gets you to Pau, which is

the jumping-off place for the Western Pyrenees, at 10.45 at night. The

distance is a little over five hundred miles; the cost, with the franc

apparently stabilized at 124 at the time of writing, is just over 250

francs second class, just over 370 francs first class, and not quite 165

third class, that is, about £1 7_s._ 6_d._ to £1 8_s._ English third

class from Paris, about £2 2_s._ second class, and about £3 2_s._ first

class. If you are making a very short stay in the Pyrenees it may pay

you to take a return ticket, the duration of which varies on the French

lines with the length of your journey. In this case it would give you

about ten days, counting the day on which you leave Paris. There are all

sorts of arrangements on the French lines for round trip tickets, family

tickets, etc., at reduced prices, but on these one must get information

specially from an agency or the French tourist office in London or the

main stations in Paris.

Going first class and paying a supplementary price of about £1 4_s._ to

£1 5_s._ and changing at Dax, into an ordinary first class, one can go

from Paris by the Sud Express leaving the Quai d’Orsay at 10 a.m. and get

to Pau at 8.30 in the evening.

If you are making for the extreme west of the range at St. Jean Pied de

Port, the same trains get you, the one to Bayonne, where you must sleep,

at 9.45 at night, and the other, the Sud Express, without changing, at

7.45 p.m.

Next morning there is a train on at 8, and another at 11.30, for St.

Jean, the first getting in at 9.45, the other at 1.15. The distance from

Bayonne to Paris is about 485 miles, and the cost therefore, rather less

to Pau, being 350 francs (about) first class, 235 or 236 second class,

and 154 third class.

The night trains by this line are the 7.10 (which has no third class),

which gets you to Pau at 7.20 the next morning; there is a luxury train

with supplementary payments for sleeping berth which gets you there no

earlier, but has the advantage of giving you time to dine in Paris. It

does not start till 8.40; however, it costs nearly £2 more than the first

class fare to Pau. Another night train with third classes in it starts at

9.50, gets you to Bordeaux at 7 in the morning (where you have nearly

half an hour for coffee) and to Pau for lunch just after noon.

The Central Line leading to Toulouse is a very slow one because it has to

go over the central mountains of France. You start from the Quai d’Orsay

also at 10.20 in the morning, and you do not get to Toulouse till just on

10.30 at night. The fares are 142 francs third class, 218 second class,

and 324 first class.

The two night trains are, one at 7.50, the other at 9.15—the latter with

sleepers if required; the first gets into Toulouse at 8.30 the next

morning, the other at 9.15.

From Toulouse you have a choice of three ways: to the Central Pyrenees,

to the Valley of the Ariège and Ax, which is to the west, and to Narbonne

and so to Perpignan on the Mediterranean at the extreme east of the range.

The first is a distance of about 100 miles to Tarbes, or another 12 miles

on to Lourdes.

The second, about 75 miles, but with only one fast train a day, a morning

one, at 9, getting you to Ax at 11.40, in time for lunch; while the third

one is the main through line with plenty of trains, but a distance of 125

miles. On the other hand, it has the fastest trains. For instance, you

can leave Toulouse at 9.30 and be in Perpignan by 1.30.

As for the line by Lyons, it is a long way round and not to be taken

unless you want to see anything on the way. On the other hand, it has

the best service of fast trains. The best morning train is the 9 o’clock

from P.L.M. station in Paris, which gets you to Avignon at 7.45 in the

evening, and there you must sleep, going on next morning to Perpignan.

You usually have to change at Tarascon. It is the better part of two

days, for save in the case of one train, there is another change at

Narbonne. There is no need to dwell on this line, as no one would take

it for the Pyrenees unless they were visiting other places on the way,

such as Nîmes or Narbonne. The cost also is about thirty per cent greater

than by the more direct line.

(4) INNS

The little I have to say on the changes in the inns since the first

edition of this book was published must be very tentative, as I have to

depend upon reports of others, save for a certain amount of recent travel

at the two ends of the range. Most of the old recommendations still

stand. Gabas is what it always was, and the Golden Lion of Perpignan as

admirable as it has been for these thirty years and more. The inn at

Burguete and that of Val Carlos have been somewhat modernized since the

new motor-bus service began, but they are still excellent. An inn I did

not mention in the first edition on the Spanish side of the range, in

Catalonia, is that of Ribas Prattes, standing over the torrent, and one

where I, at least, have always been very comfortable. Since the opening

of the new road and railway over the Sierra del Cadi it has become

unfortunately rather famous, and it is not cheap; but the people treat

you charmingly, and that is a great thing.

At Bourg Madame I have quite recently found myself very comfortable

at Salvat. I am told that the principal inn at Andorra is rather more

sophisticated since the motor road has been built to the town, but is

still as good as it was in the old days. Of course the cooking and

everything else is Catalan; and I am talking from hearsay, as I have not

been to Andorra for many years.

As you stop at Bayonne on your way you will find good meals at the Grand

Brasserie facing the end of the bridge, while the hotel for sleeping is

the Capagorry; at least that is my favourite, though there is also the

rather more expensive Grand Hotel.

Nearly all the places on which I have made inquiries seem to have

maintained the old service intact. You still have the Mur in Jaca, and

the more primitive but hospitable inn of Canfranc; and the little inn

at Urdos, where I stopped some years ago, is passable enough, though I

still recommend as a base the Hotel de la Poste lower down the valley at

Bédous. By the way, if you do stop at Urdos, beware of the drinking water

which for some reason is not very safe—or was not.

Before leaving these very brief notes I should like to emphasize again

for travellers the change in prices. On the whole, they are lower,

reckoning the real purchasing value of money, than they were in the old

days.

Thus, the place I know best, and where I have stopped most often, is

charging now as a regular _pension_ per day in francs including wine,

and counting in francs, six times what it charged before the war. Now

the nominal value of the franc in gold is only a fifth of what it was

before the war, and the purchasing power of gold is very nearly half,

so a multiple of six means that you are getting your board and lodging

really cheaper than you did in 1913; but I know it is difficult to

persuade people of this, just as it is difficult to persuade people in

England that railway fares and postage at home are really less than they

were before the war. At any rate, those who may have had experience

of the Pyrenees before the war may roughly multiply by six for the

present price, at least in modest places; and in some cases by less.

Of course in the very large hotels in places like Bagnères you may be

charged anything. But they are places which I never go to and on which I

therefore can give no advice.

It remains, by the way, as true as ever that on the French side of the

range you must always ask the price of your room before taking it, and on

the Spanish side be quite clear as to whether the price quoted is for the

room and all the day’s meals including wine (as is the national custom)

or for only a part. On both sides of the frontier service is usually

included in the bill nowadays at 10 per cent on the total, and it is

foolish to pay anything more.

(5) MAPS

The war interfered with map-making in France so much that recovery is

only beginning, and the revision of the main surveys is still in arrears.

What I have said, however, in this book still stands for the most part.

I append a list of the maps recommended, with their prices, to be

obtained from Messrs Sifton, Praed & Co., The Map House, 67, St. James’s

Street, S.W. 1.

With regard to this list I would make the following comment:

(1) This is the standard French ordnance map, the one most necessary for

the pedestrian, especially if he is dealing only with a limited area.

(2) This is the map for motoring and road work.

(3) This is the map for climbers, but unfortunately the first three

sheets have been allowed to go out of print. I hear that there is some

hope of a reprint being made, and on my next visit to the publishers I

will urge them to advance it. The map was made years ago for Messrs.

Barrere, and is very useful on account of its numerous contours.

(4) is to be reckoned with (3).

(5) This is the general map for a conspectus of the whole range.

(6) I have not seen this map, but it can be obtained from the firm

mentioned above. It is I believe detailed and exceedingly useful, but as

yet only applies to this small section of the mountain.

(7) The Michelin map is a motoring map, but contains a great deal of

useful information, and is very accurate as to motoring roads.

(8) The Taride is a much rougher map, with general indications; not so

accurate as the Michelin, but useful for long tours.

With this said I append the list.

(1) 1/100,000 France, covering the Pyrenees in 27 sheets. Price

1_s._ per sheet unmounted; mounted on cloth to fold for the

pocket, 2_s._ 6_d._ per sheet.

(2) 1/200,000 France. 7 sheets. Price, 2_s._ each unmounted;

mounted on cloth to fold, 4_s._ 6_d._ each. Sheet 69 mounted

on cloth to fold, 4_s._

(3) Schrader’s map of the Pyrenees Centrales par F. Schrader.

Sheets 4, 5, 6 only available. The three northern sheets 1,

2, 3 are out of print.

(4) Schrader’s map “Massif de Gavarnie et du Mont Perdu,” Scale

1/2000. Paper, folded in cover. Price, 2_s._ 6_d._

(5) Touring Club de France. Scale 1/400,000. Two sheets cover

the whole of the Pyrenees. Mounted on cloth to fold for the

pocket, 5_s._ each.

(6) Mapa Militar de Espana. Sheet 86 and part of 62. Seo de Urgel.

This is the only sheet published so far of the Pyrenees.

Price, 2_s._ 6_d._ unmounted; mounted on cloth to fold, 4_s._

6_d._

(7) Carte Routière Michelin. Scale 1/200,000. Two sheets cover

the whole of the Pyrenees on the French side. Mounted to fold,

4_s._ each.

(8) Taride Road Maps. Scale 4 miles to 1 inch. Two sheets cover

the whole of the Pyrenees. Paper, folded in cover, 2_s._ each.

Mounted on cloth to fold, 5_s._ each.

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

I. THE PHYSICAL NATURE OF THE PYRENEES 1

II. THE POLITICAL CHARACTER OF THE PYRENEES 36

III. MAPS 59

IV. THE ROAD SYSTEM OF THE PYRENEES 79

V. TRAVEL ON FOOT IN THE PYRENEES 106

VI. THE SEPARATE DISTRICTS OF THE PYRENEES 144

i. The Basque Valleys 145

ii. The Four Valleys (Béarn and Aragon) 155

iii. Sobrarbe 167

iv. The Tarbes Valleys and Luchon 179

v. Andorra and the Catalan Valleys 187

vi. Cerdagne 199

vii. The Tet and Ariège 204

viii. The Canigou 210

VII. INNS OF THE PYRENEES 217

VIII. THE APPROACHES TO THE PYRENEES 234

INDEX 239

LIST OF MAPS

FACING PAGE

GENERAL SKETCH MAP OF THE PYRENEES 1

THE BASQUE VALLEYS 154

THE FOUR VALLEYS 166

THE PASSAGE OVER THE COL DE LA CRUZ AND THE COL DE GISTAIN 174

THE SOBRARBE 178

THE TARBES VALLEYS AND LUCHON 186

THE CATALAN VALLEYS AND ANDORRA 198

THE CERDAGNE 202

THE ARIÈGE AND TET VALLEYS 208

THE CANIGOU 216

THE GATE OF THE ROUSSILLON _Frontispiece_

[Illustration: GENERAL SKETCH MAP OF THE PYRENEES]

THE PYRENEES

I

THE PHYSICAL NATURE OF THE PYRENEES

[Illustration]

To use for travel or for pleasure a great mountain system, the first

thing necessary is to understand its structure and its plan; to this

understanding must next be added an understanding of its appearance,

climate, soil, and, as it were, habits, all of which lend it a character

peculiar to itself.

These two approaches to the comprehension of a mountain system may be

called the approaches to its physical nature; and when one has the

elements of that nature clearly seized, one is the better able to

comprehend the human incidents attached to it.

From an appreciation of this physical basis one must next proceed to a

general view of the history of the district—if it has a history—and of

the modern political character resulting from it. At the root of this

will be found the original groups or communities which have remained

unchanged in Western Europe throughout all recorded time. These groups

are sometimes distinguishable by language, more often by character.

Changes of philosophy profoundly affect them; changes of economic

circumstance, though affecting them far less, do something to render the

problem of their continuity complex: but upon an acquaintance with the

living men concerned, it is always possible to distinguish where the

boundaries of a country-side are set; and the permanence of such limits

in European life is the chief lesson a deep knowledge of any district

conveys.

The recorded history of the inhabitants lends to these hills their only

full meaning for the human being that visits them to-day; nor does anyone

know, nor half know, any country-side of Europe unless he possesses not

only its physical appearance and its present habitation, but the elements

of its past.

These things established, one can turn to the details of travel and

explain the communications, the difficulties, and the opportunities

attaching to various lines of travel. In the case of a mountain range,

the greater part of this last will, of course, for modern Englishmen,

consist in some account of wilder travel upon foot, and the sense of

exploration and of discovery which the district affords.

Such are the lines to be followed in this book, and, first, I will begin

by laying down the plan and contours of the Pyrenees.

* * * * *

The first impression reached by modern and educated men when they

consider a mountain system is one over-simple. This over-simplicity

is the necessary result of our present forms of elementary education,

and has been well put by some financial vulgarian or other (with the

intention of praise) when he called it “Thinking in Maps,” or, “Thinking

Imperially”; for the maps in a man’s head when he first approaches a new

range are the maps of the schoolroom.

Thus one sees the Sierra Nevada in California as one line, the Cascade

Range as another parallel to it. The Alps and the Himalayas alike arrange

themselves into simple curves, arcs of a circle with a great river

for the cord. The Atlas is a straight line cutting off the northern

projection of Africa, the Apennines are a straight line running down the

centre of Italy. Such are the first geographic elements present in the

mind.

The next impression, however, the impression gathered in actual travel,

or in a detailed study, is one of mere confusion, a confusion the more

hopeless on account of the false simplicity of the original premise.

Deductions from that premise are perpetually at variance with the

observed facts of travel or of study, the exceptions become so numerous

as to swamp the rule, and an original misconception upon the main

character of the chain prevents a new and more accurate synthesis of

its general aspect. Thus, the conception of the Cascade Range upon the

Pacific Coast of the United States as parallel and separate from the

Sierras, confuses one’s view of all the district round Shasta, and of

all the watersheds south of the Mohave where the two systems merge; or

again, one who has only thought of the Alps as a mere arc of a circle

misconceives, and is bewildered by the nature, the appearance, and the

whole history of the great re-entrant angles of the Val d’Aosta with

its Gallic influences; the anomaly of the Adige Valley will not permit

him to explain its political fortunes, and the outlying arms which have

preserved the independence of Swiss institutions upon the southern slope

will not fall into his view of the mountains.

This confusion, I say, is not due so much to the multitude of detail as

to the permanent effect of an original strong and over-simple conception

remaining in the mind as it continues to accumulate increasing but

sporadic knowledge of a particular district; and it is a confusion in

which those who have formed such an erroneous conception commonly remain.

In order to avoid such confusion and to allow one’s increasing knowledge

a frame wherein to fit, it is essential to grasp in one scheme the few

elementary lines which underlie a mountain system, and such a scheme will

be a trifle more complex than the too simple scheme usually presented,

but once one has it one can appreciate the place of every irregularity in

the structure of the whole chain of hills.

In the case of the Pyrenees the common error of too great simplicity

may be easily stated. These mountains are regarded as a wall separating

France from Spain, and running direct from sea to sea. Such an aspect

of the range will more and more confuse the traveller and reader the

more he studies the actual shape of the valleys. Another picture should

occupy the mind, and it will presently be seen that with this picture

permanently fixed as a framework for the whole system, an increased

knowledge of its details does but expand the sense of unity originally

conveyed. The Pyrenees must not be regarded as a sharp heaped ridge

forming a single watershed between the plains of Gaul and those of

Northern Spain, and running east and west from the Atlantic to the

Mediterranean. They form a system, the watershed of which does not

exactly stretch from one sea to the other. The axis of it does not

consist of one line; the general direction is not due east. The axis of

the Pyrenean chain is built up of two main lines, of approximately equal

length: the one running south of east from a point at some distance from

the Atlantic, the other north of west from a point right on the shores of

the Mediterranean. These two lines do not meet. They miss by over eight

miles, and the gap between them is joined by a low saddle.

[Illustration: PLAN A.]

The first of these lines starts from a point (Mount Urtioga) 25 miles

south of the corner made by the Bay of Biscay at Irun, and some 15 miles

west of its meridian; it runs about 9° 15′ south of east to the peak

called Sabouredo, the last of the Maladetta group, the direct distance

from which to Mount Urtioga is precisely 200 kilometres, or 124 miles.

The second runs from Cape Cerberus on the Mediterranean to a peak called

the Pic-de-l’homme, which stands a trifle over 12 kilometres, or 7¾

miles, north of the Sabouredo; its direction is 9° 25′ north of west, and

the total length of this second line is just over 190 kilometres, or 117

miles.

[Illustration: PLAN B.]

The simplest scheme, then, in which we can regard the Pyrenees, is as a

system of not quite parallel lines of equal length, running one towards

the other, but missing by not quite 8 miles; the gap or “fault” joined by

a zigzag saddle on the watershed. The westernmost of these lines splits

into several branches before it reaches the Atlantic, so that the true

western end of the chain lies well to the south and east of that ocean

(at Mount Urtioga); the other starts from, and forms a projection in, the

Mediterranean. The full distance as the crow flies from Mount Urtioga

to Cape Cerberus upon the Mediterranean is 390 kilometres, that is 241

miles. And there is but 10 kilometres, or 6½ miles, difference in length

between the two halves of the chain.

If U be the point called Mount Urtioga, S the Sabouredo, L the

Pic-de-l’homme, and C Cape Cerberus, these two lines and the gap between

them will lie precisely as in this plan.

With this main guide by which to judge the structure of the chain, all

details will be found to fit in, and the two first variations which we

must superimpose upon so general a view, are to be found in the “step” or

“corner” formed by the watershed round the Pic d’Anie. The southward turn

of the range is here not gradual but sharp, and the Somport, the pass at

the head of the Val d’Aspe, lies almost a day’s going below the Port St.

Engrace, which is the Pass near the Pic d’Anie. Next, one should note the

two re-entrant angles, one to the north of the chain, one to the south,

which distinguish the Spanish valley of the Gallego and the French valley

of the Gave de Pau respectively. These features modify the simplicity of

the first or western branch of the chain; one exceptional feature only

modifies the second or Eastern branch, and this is the deep re-entrant

wedge of the Ariège valley upon the French side. We may therefore regard

the elements of the watershed somewhat according to the sketch plan B on

the preceding page.

[Illustration: PLAN C.]

The details of the watershed when they are given in full are of course

indefinitely more numerous and complicated, and it may be of advantage

for those who would understand the structure of the Pyrenees to glance

also at the plan opposite where the dotted line represents the exact

trace of the watershed, the dark lines the simple structure described

above.

[Illustration: PLAN D.]

The watershed then should be regarded as the chief feature in the range,

and as the backbone of the whole system. Geologically, it is not the

foundation of the range. Geologically, the range was piled up by the

junction of a number of short separate ranges, each of which ran with a

sharper south-eastern dip (about 30°) than does the present long line

of saddles which has joined them and forms the existing watershed, and

probably the process of the formation of the Pyrenees was upon the model

sketched in the following diagram.

But for the purpose of understanding the Pyrenees as they now are, it is

the existing watershed which we must consider, and that runs as I have

said.

Next, the rule should be laid down that the Pyrenees must be separately

considered on their northern and upon their southern slopes. It will be

seen later that the physical and historical contrast between the two

sides of the mountains is sometimes acute and sometimes slight, but the

contrast between the general contour upon either side is such as to make

it impossible to unite both in one similar system.

The Northern slope of the Pyrenees is narrow and precipitous. The plains

are for the greater part of its length clearly separated from the

mountains; the easy country in some places (at St. Girons, for instance,

and in the Flats between Lourdes and Tarbes) is not 20 miles as the crow

flies from the highest peaks.

On the Spanish side, on the contrary, the mountainous district will run

from two to three times that distance. Its extreme width between the open

country at the foot of the Sierra Monsech and the Salau Pass is over 60

miles, and it is nowhere less than two days’ good journey on foot from

the summits to the plains.

This differentiation between the northern and the southern slopes is not

merely one of width, it is due to profound differences in the contours

which make the Spanish side of the system a different type of mountain

group from the French. For, on the French side the Pyrenees consist

in a series of great ribs or buttresses running up from the plains

perpendicularly to the main heights of the range, and it is between these

ribs or buttresses that the separate and highly distinct valleys which

are the characteristic habitations of the French Basques and Béarnais

lie. On the Spanish side the main structure is in folds _parallel_ to

the watershed; the lateral valleys descending from the watershed run

southward for but a very short distance, they come, within a few miles,

upon high east-and-west ridges which sometimes rival the main range

itself in height and which succeed each other like waves down to the

plains of the Ebro. The contrast in structure north and south of the

watershed may be expressed in the formula of this plan. A man looking at

the Pyrenees from the French towns at their base sees in one complete

view a belt of steep rising slopes, and a long fairly even line of

summits against the sky. A man looking at the range from the Spanish

plains can only in a few rare places so much as catch sight of the main

range. In far the greater number of such views he will have before him

a high ridge which masques the country beyond. If, then, the reader or

the traveller regards the French slope as being essentially a series of

profound valleys parallel to each other and running north and south, he

will have grasped the main aspect of this side of the range. If he will

regard the Spanish slope as a series of parallel outliers which begin

quite close to the watershed, and which, though falling at last into the

plains of the Ebro, are, even the most southern of them, of considerable

height, he will have grasped the structure of the Pyrenees upon the side

which looks towards the sun.

[Illustration: PLAN E.]

To these two main aspects the reader must again admit considerable

modifications, the first of which concerns the French side.

[Illustration: PLAN F.]

This Northern slope and its valleys, of which the sketch map over page

indicates the general arrangement, may be divided into two sections:

the first a western section, the second an eastern one, and these two

are separated at A-B by a division roughly corresponding to the “fault”

between the two axes, which, as we have seen, determine the lie of the

range.

From the first, or western axis, descend with a regular parallelism,

eight valleys. Each valley bifurcates in its higher part into two main

ravines, and a whole system of minor streams, spread over an indefinite

number of tortuous dales and gullies, attach to each valley.

There is a mark or limit for each of these western French valleys,

which is the spot where it debouches upon the open country. Thus the

Gave d’Ossau falls into the Gave d’Aspe at Oloron; nevertheless the two

valleys must be regarded as separate, because the meeting of the two

streams takes place in the open plain. On the other hand the valley of

Baigorry, and the neighbouring valley of St. Jean, though containing two

large separate streams, must be treated as one system, because these

streams meet at Eyharee near Ossés, and the open plain is not reached

before a point some miles further down beyond Canbo.

The test, though it may sound arbitrary upon paper, is quite easily

appreciated in the landscape, and the separate valleys are more clearly

marked, perhaps, than those of any other European mountain chain.

These eight valleys (see plan G over page), going from west to east,

are first that of the Nive (the bifurcations of which give St. Jean

and the Baigorry), next that of the Gave-de-Mauléon (Larrau and Ste.

Engrace), and both of these are Basque; next comes the valley of the

Gave d’Aspe (with the bifurcation of Lourdios and Urdos), up which went

the main Roman road into Spain and which is the first of the Béarnese

valleys; next is the Val d’Ossau (with the bifurcation of Gabas and the

lac d’Arrius), next the valley of the Gave de Pau (with the bifurcations

of Cauterets and Gavarnie), next the valley of Bigorre, a short valley

bifurcating in two minor streams at its head. Next, or seventh, comes the

Val d’Aure, with Vielle upon its western bifurcation and Bordères upon

its eastern; and lastly the bifurcated valley of the Garonne, whose level

and deep floor comes nearest of all to the main chain, and holds on the

west Luchon, on a branch called the Pique, on the east Viella in the Val

d’Aran.

[Illustration: PLAN G.]

[Illustration: PLAN H.]

Once past this point, the structure of the hills along the eastern run

of the broken Pyrenean axis changes. The mountains here are penetrated

by only two valleys, but each is much longer and more important than

any of the eight just mentioned, and these two great valleys run, not

parallel to each other, nor north and south as do the eight western ones,

but at a steep slant: the one (that of the Ariège) goes westward, and

the other (that of the Tet) eastward. Save for these two main valleys no

regular features can be discovered in the eastern portion; all is here a

labyrinth of dividing and subdividing lateral ridges, and the only thing

giving unity to the group is this system of two great trenches which run

up towards each other, the one from the Plain of Toulouse, the other

from that of Perpignan, to meet on the high land of the Carlitte group.

Strictly speaking, the western valley is not wholly that of the Ariège,

but those of the Ariège and Oriège combined, and it is further remarkable

that no regular passage exists from the one depression to the other, but

by a curious topographical accident, which will be described later in the

book, the crossing from the Ariège to the Tet has to be made by going

over on to the south side of the range, and then back again on to the

north side.

The importance of these two main valleys upon the eastern half of

the northern slope of the Pyrenees is sufficiently evident from the

historical fact that each determines a great historical district: the

one, that of the Ariège, was the country of _Foix_, the other, that of

the Tet, was the _Rousillon_. And while the eight small western valleys

running parallel to each other separate local customs and dialect alone,

the ridge of the Ariège and the Tet may almost be said to have separated

two nationalities, and owed ultimate allegiance for a thousand years, the

one to a Gallic, the other to an Iberian lord.

Beyond the valley of the Tet and eastward of the Canigou runs the little

fag end of the range, which falls into the sea at Cape Cerberus, and is

called the “Alberes.” Here there is but little distinction between the

northern and the southern side, the general shape of a sharp ridge is

maintained throughout, but the height lowers more and more as the sea is

approached. These hills are everywhere passable; the ancient road into

Spain which crosses them, should count, geographically and historically,

rather as a road crossing round the Pyrenees at their sea end, than as a

road crossing the chain.

* * * * *

A Pyrenean valley upon the French side always presents the same main

characteristic, and this is true not only of the main valleys, but of the

innumerable lateral valleys which ramify from the main valleys in all

directions.

The Pyrenees · 第 1 / 21 段