OLORON
Iluro--Road over the port--The _beret_--Three parts to the
town--How the bishop got a cathedral--The porch--Ste. Croix--
Bishop Roussel--Frightened to death--Escot--Independent
Republic--Emigration--Sarrance--The _Heptameron_--Accous--
Story of Loustaunau--Osse--Urdos, the French Gibraltar--
Mauleon--Espadrillos.
Oloron is the ancient Iluro, in Gallo-Roman times one of the twelve
cities of Novempopulania, and of importance as the key to the passage
of the Pyrenees by the Val d’Aspe over the Somport.
The Roman road branched off from the Via Aurelia at Lescar, crossed the
Gave de Pau, and struck direct for Oloron, where, doubtless, soldiers
and merchants and travellers in general rested before undertaking the
passage of the mountains. The Roman road, after crossing the chain,
descended to the plains, and ran straight as a bird-line for Saragossa.
At Escot a Latin inscription remains, cut in the rock by the wayside,
commemorating the remaking of the road under the direction of one,
Valerius Vernus.
Oloron is a busy town, carrying on the manufacture of the _beret_, the
tam-o’-shanter, wherewith every Basque and Béarnais covers his head.
The town is prettily situated at the junction of the Gave d’Aspe and
the Gave d’Ossau, which divide it into three parts. One, Ste. Marie,
was for long the communal centre and the residence of the bishops of
Oloron. The old feudal city is staged up a hill between the two rivers.
In it is the church of Ste. Croix, built in 1080 by the Viscount
Centule IV. Centule had married a distant cousin, Gisela. But he
coveted the fair lands of Bigorre, to which Beatrix, daughter of Count
Bernard II, was the heiress.
Amatus, Bishop of Oloron and the papal legate, was in want of a
cathedral; so they put their heads together, and Amatus undertook to
obtain the annulling of the marriage with Gisela by Pope Gregory VII.
The Pope wanted money, Centule wanted Bigorre, and Amatus a cathedral.
Gregory made no difficulties, so Gisela was repudiated, and sent to end
her days in a convent, as though she were the guilty party. Amatus was
paid for his help in this scandalous job by being given a cathedral,
and Centule, in the exuberance of his delight at becoming possessed of
the rich heiress, built as well the church of Ste. Croix.
It was easy for any man with means in those days to wriggle out of an
union that was inconvenient. The Popes had drawn up a catalogue of
relationships within which degrees marriage was prohibited, unless
a dispensation had been procured _argent comptant_. Kinship to the
seventh degree, affinity as well as consanguinity, could be pleaded.
Spiritual relationship through sponsorship at the font also served.
Right or wrong in the matter was not considered. It was a contrivance
of the Papacy for extortion of money.
The church of Ste. Marie is the ancient cathedral. The most ancient
portions belong to the eleventh century. Externally it is not a
striking edifice; nevertheless it is one of the most curious in the
South, and has just one splendid feature--the sculptured porch, which
is the basement of an enormous and massive tower, pierced by arches.
Beneath this is a beautiful portal, round-headed, containing a double
entrance, the doorways parted by a pillar. The sculpture of tympanum
and archivolt are excellent for their period. A man once caught,
plucked, and cooked a nightingale. With such a voice it ought to be
excellent eating, he argued. But when he set his teeth in it, his
judgment on the nightingale was, “Vox et præterea nihil.” So, with such
a throat one might reckon on a magnificent interior, but within the
church responds not at all to the conceptions raised by the portal, and
answers little to the idea formed of a cathedral.
But the diocese of Oloron was one of the poorest in all France, and was
just half the value of that of Lescar.
The quarter of Ste. Croix has narrow streets, with old houses, some
Romanesque, some Gothic, and others Renaissance. It had been cramped
within its walls, and could expand upwards only. Now the fortifications
have been demolished, and but a single flanking tower remains.
The church is remarkable only for its Byzantine cupola. In many points
it recalls the Romanesque structures of Auvergne. Anciently the only
access to the nave was through a richly ornamented door at the side.
The western entrance is a modern addition.
The third quarter of Oloron is modern, bright, and cheerful, but
uninteresting. In this quarter some houses bear the escutcheons
of foreign powers, for three states speaking Spanish have their
vice-consuls here--Spain, that entertains active relations with the
valleys of Ossau and Aspe; and the Argentine and Uruguay republics,
that are draining Béarn of so many of its natives for settlers.
Moreover, Oloron is the principal centre for the making of the _beret_,
as already said, also of bright-coloured handkerchiefs much affected by
Spanish women in the New as in the Old World.
Oloron was a bishopric as early as 506. Marguerite de Valois, Queen of
Navarre, appointed to it Roussel, the reformer, who began as a disciple
of Calvin, and finished by entering into unseemly wrangling with
him over some petty question in theology in a series of acrimonious
letters. Marguerite had to interfere, and entreat both to cease their
scurrility as an offence to religion. Roussel, as bishop, did his
utmost to detach the people from their ancient faith, which he had
sworn to maintain when consecrated, but which at the very moment when
he took oath he had resolved on overthrowing.
He was preaching one day at Mauleon, assailing Catholic doctrine with
vehemence. A gentleman named Matye was present, and unable to endure
this without a protest, and being armed with an axe, struck at the slim
pedestal of the pulpit with the butt-end, and with such force as to
send Roussel a bound into the air. When he came down, again descended
the axe, sending the bishop another leap, like a pea on a drum.
Roussel’s nerves were so shaken that he fled the church, and galloped
off to a Pyrenean watering-place, there to recover the shock. But
instead of recovering he died, 1549. A suit was brought against Matye
in the Parliament at Bordeaux, for having frightened the bishop into
his grave; but nothing came of it.
Under Jeanne d’Albret the bishopric was suppressed; however, a bishop
was appointed in 1599. Oloron ceased to be an episcopal seat at the
Revolution.
The Val d’Aspe begins at Escot. At the foot of the mountain of Narpayt
stands up a rocky needle, named after S. Nicolas, separated from the
road by a belt of tillage. From this point the valley narrows; a
bridge crosses the river, over which runs the road to the Val d’Ossau.
Pinnacles of rock and bare precipices pierced with caves border the
Gave, that flows between the green lips of rich pastures. A fine peak,
the Trône-du-Roi, stands up on the left bank. For the most part the
mountain slopes are bare, growing nothing but box shrubs, and yet at
one time hence came the tall pines that furnished the navy of France
with masts. They were improvidently hewn down, and floated in rafts
to Bayonne, and no thought was given to replanting, so that they were
completely exhausted in 1780.
At Sarrance the valley expands. The village borders a sweep of the
Gave, under the Signal de Sarrance, rising to the height of 4210 feet,
cleft by a ravine well wooded, and with sweet green pastures. To the
south is another peak, clothed in forest, rising to 4380 feet.
The Val d’Aspe formed one of those independent commonwealths of
which in the Middle Ages there were so many in the Pyrenees. It was
under the suzerainty of the viscounts of Béarn, but enjoyed complete
self-government. In 1477 the Procureur-Général of Béarn claimed the
forests as the property of the viscount, but the inhabitants protested
that the Val d’Aspe existed before the viscounty had been constituted.
The case was tried in the court at Pau, and judgment was given in
favour of the little republic. The Aspois always were proud and
independent. But unhappily a fever for emigration to South America
has set in and has depopulated the valley seriously. In 1862 the
inhabitants numbered 11,368, but in 1901 they had fallen to 7977. And
this is not due to poverty, for there is not a beggar to be found in
the valley.
Sarrance takes its name from the situation--_sarrada_ in Béarnais is
“narrow” and _ance_ is a “passage.” A bridge wreathed with ivy spans
the stream, near a chapel. A terrace shaded with plane trees has its
walls ablaze with snap-dragon, sprouting out of every crevice. From the
chapel a stair leads down to the riverside, where is a niche containing
a statue of the Virgin and Child, indicating the spot where, according
to tradition, the image of N. D. de Sarrance was found.
The old monastery stands on an elevation at the southern extremity
of the village. There is a little grass-grown square with a fountain
in it. On one side of the square are untenanted houses, formerly
guest-rooms of the convent; on the other is the monastery with its
church. This latter is of no interest, as the old church, considered to
be the finest in Béarn, was completely destroyed by the Calvinists. The
tower is absolutely hideous. In a side chapel is a rude black Madonna,
an object of superstitious devotion.
It was here that Marguerite, sister of Francis I and Queen of Navarre,
composed her _Heptameron_. This is what she says in the introduction:--
“On the first day of September, when the baths of the Pyrenees
begin to have their virtue, several persons--some of France,
some of Spain, and others from elsewhere--were united at
Cauterets, the marvellous waters of which have cured sick who
were given up by the doctors. When the party was about to
separate it was found that the floods were out so that there
was no reaching Tarbes. So, having halted awhile at the Abbey
of Saint Savin, the whole company met again at the monastery of
Notre Dame de Sarrance, in Béarn. In order to reach Pau it was
necessary that the bridge over the Gave should be repaired, and
this occupied ten days. In order to relieve the tedium of our
stay in the convent of monks, the company arranged a time-table
for proceedings. In the morning we met in the rooms of the Lady
Oysille, the eldest present. An hour was spent in reading the
sacred Scriptures. Then we heard Mass. At ten o’clock came
dinner; after that every one retired to his or her chamber
about their own affairs. At noon no one failed to go to the
beautiful meadow, by the side of the Gave, where the trees are
so covered with foliage that the sun cannot pierce through nor
take the freshness out of the air. There, seated at our ease,
every one relates tales, either true or invented to amuse, as
did Boccaccio. At four o’clock the merry tales are interrupted
in order that we may pray; and no one fails devoutly to attend
vespers.”
There are certain points to be noted in this. In the first place,
neither here nor anywhere else, does the Queen let fall a word by which
one can see that she appreciated the beauty of the mountain scenery
through which she travelled. Yet the localities for some of her tales
are Cauterets, Sarrance, Odos, and Pau.
In the next place, the stories that these ladies told, and which the
Queen of Navarre collected, are so indecent, and contain such foul
expressions, that we are amazed to think that any woman, however
corrupt may have been the times, should not blush to hear, and be
ashamed to write them down.
And lastly, what a jumble of occupations! Bible-reading in the morning,
obscene stories in the evening, and then--prayers.
The meadow is there still, and one may sit in it now as then; but
now it is with thoughts of thankfulness on the change that has been
accomplished in manners and in sense of decency. A little above
Sarrance, on the east, opens the entrance to a cirque. The southern
wall, which is most precipitous, supports a plateau strangely regular
in form, like a cone with its head sliced off, 4700 feet high. On the
right bank of the Gave opposite Bedous are four little heights, two
pointed, one rounded, the other flattened at top. They are eruptive
dykes of ophite, a rock somewhat abundant in this valley.
Bedous is now the most considerable place in the valley, much more busy
and fuller of inhabitants than the cantonal capital Accous.
At Accous is an obelisk erected to the memory of the Béarnais poet,
Despourrins (1690-1759), who was a native of the place.
One day an English general, crossing from Spain and descending the
Val d’Aspe, encountered a little shepherd boy with quick eye and
intelligent face, whom he questioned about objects of interest in
the neighbourhood. Pleased with the lad, he invited him to enter his
service as valet, and the youth, who had a rough time at home, without
more ado clambered on to the box to travel to distant and unknown
regions. This little shepherd was called Loustaunau, and he followed
the officer to India. When his master died he sought to make his
fortune by starting a house of commerce in the territory of the Mogul.
Then war broke out between the Emperor of Delhi and the Nabob of Lahore.
Chancing to witness a battle between them from an eminence, Loustaunau
remarked to a Banian that the disposition of the Mogul army was faulty.
“If,” said he, “I had the command of 1200 horsemen, and had a couple
of cannon, I would soon determine the battle.” What he had said was
reported to the Great Mogul, who at once gave him what he desired. The
Béarnais jumped on the back of a horse, took the command of a troop,
and ranged it behind a bit of rising ground, placed his guns where he
could rake the enemy, and charged the centre of the enemy, and broke
it, whilst his cannon pounded the troops of the Nabob. The victory was
complete.
Loustaunau was richly rewarded, and given a princess to wife, by whom
he had several children. In a battle fought against the Maharattas he
lost his left hand, and had it replaced by one of silver.
A quarter of a century had elapsed since he left the Pyrenees; he had
amassed a fortune, and a longing came over him to revisit his native
valley. Accordingly he returned to France and invested his money in
factories, and in châteaux that he purchased within Béarn and in
Bigorre.
But disaster came. His factories were burnt by the Spaniards, and
his fortune melted away. He meditated a return to India, and started
for the East. But unhappily he made the acquaintance of Lady Hester
Stanhope, who gained complete possession of his mind. Forgetting the
needs of his family, and the object of his journey, he stayed with
her at the foot of Lebanon, where he led the life of a prophet and
_illuminé_. Lamartine met him there, and there he died. He had left his
children at Tarbes. Three of his daughters were alive in 1860, living
in poverty, maintaining themselves by needlework, and looking back
sadly on their early days as a dream out of the _Arabian Nights_.
The village of Osse, planted between strangely shaped hills of ophite,
facing the south, is the last refuge of Protestantism in the valley.
The population is 560, the majority of whom are Calvinists, and they
maintain a pastor and have a “Temple.”
Urdos, the Forum Ligneum of the Ancients, is the last town in France.
The fortress commanding the pass is hewn in the natural rock, in a
buttress of the mountains rising in stages from the road to the height
of 500 feet. Externally the mountain gives little token of what it is,
honeycombed with galleries, batteries, stairs. A façade of masonry
battlemented and flanked by turrets at the foot of the rock, and a
few loopholes and embrasures for cannon, pierced in the face of the
cliff, are all that show that this is a French Gibraltar, capable of
containing a garrison of 3000 men.
Mauleon, the ancient capital of the little viscounty of Soule, that
passed to Béarn, is prettily situated on the banks of the Saison, at
the foot of a hill that is crowned by a castle reached by a bridge over
the moat or chasm artificially cut in the rock.
The huge roofs of the Hôtel d’Andurrain form the hat to a Renaissance
building.
Mauleon, after remaining stagnant for centuries, has begun to stir, and
has become the centre of manufacture of the espadrillos, or shoe with
canvas top and twisted rope sole, so much in use in the Pyrenees and in
Spain.
A dozen years ago the whole population of Mauleon was a thousand,
and now two thousand men and five hundred women are engaged in the
factories; for in Senegal the natives have all at once taken a fancy to
the espadrillos, and the fashion is spreading from Senegal; there is no
saying where it may end in wide Africa.
The workmen and women employed are not, however, Basques or Béarnais,
but are Spaniards. Here is trade, and that a growing trade, in their
midst, and the native population shrug their shoulders, leave it to
foreigners to carry on, and depart for South America in shoals.