FRÈRE CHRÉTIEN--UTILITY OF CUSTOM-HOUSE SEARCH--BOLD
VOYAGER--PAUILLAC--BLAYE--THE GIRONDE--TALBOT--VINES--THE
LANDES--PHANTOM OF KING ARTHUR--THE WITCH-FINDER--THE
LANDES--WRECKERS.
OUR destination was now the Gironde, and we found our only plan was to
set out in the middle of the night for Mortagne, where the steam-boat to
Bordeaux from Royan touched for passengers. We accordingly secured our
places in the _coupé_, and, having been quite punctual to the hour of
twelve, we expected to begin our journey. At the appointed time,
however, neither horses nor _conducteur_ were to be found, and the
diligence remained for a full hour beneath the trees of the _cours_,
filled with its impatient passengers, without any appearance of moving.
The pause was enlivened by a violent altercation between a passenger on
the roof and the proprietor, which caused a great encounter of tongues,
so furious that we dreaded that blows must ensue, when we heard the
vociferous individual who had usurped somebody's place, favoured by the
darkness, kicking and resisting as he was dragged from his exalted
station. However, as is almost always the case in France, the moment the
culprit--who was loud in his threats of vengeance when too far off to
execute them--descended to earth, and had an opportunity of making them
good, he became mute and humble, and made his escape at once, amidst the
jeers of those who had also threatened to annihilate him as soon as he
was within their reach. This scene, taking place at midnight, beneath
the high trees of the great avenue in the gloomy ruined town of Saintes,
was sufficiently unpleasant, as there seemed less and less chance of our
ever stirring from the spot, and a great probability of our arriving, at
any rate, too late for the steamer at Mortagne; but a priest, who was
our companion, and who seemed to have previously filled up the lonely
hours of evening by potations, seemed greatly to enjoy the bustle, till
a remark of mine, on the unsuitableness of the scene to one of his
order, acted like magic on him, and he ceased the _swearing_ and
encouraging exclamations in which he had before indulged, and became as
meek and demure as he probably passed for, being amongst those whose
eyes he knew to be on him. He was of the order of Christian Brothers: a
community by no means remarkable for the edification of their manners
and demeanour.
It is customary with _conducteurs_, when very much behind their time,
to regain it by furious driving; and this being the case in our
instance, we got to the inn at Mortagne in time, the boat being, as it
happened, later than usual. In the midst of the rain we were obliged to
obey the custom-house summons to produce our keys, in order that our
trunks might be inspected, and if _bales of cotton_ should be found
amongst our caps and gowns, we might suffer according to our offence
against the laws. After much uncording and dashing and knocking about of
baggage, the person who officiated proceeded to drag open the suspected
packages rather unceremoniously. An exclamation, which one of our party
made in English, seemed to put an end, however, to the search, for,
looking up and bowing, he said, "Oh, English ladies,--that's enough!"
Having escaped this _necessary_ ceremony, we had to walk about half a
mile in the mud and rain to the pier, though there was no sort of reason
why the coach should not have taken us all with our goods to the shore;
except, indeed, that by so convenient an arrangement, the demands of a
whole host of porters would have been evaded.
We were huddled into a clumsy boat, some standing and some sitting on
the wet seats, and paddled off to the steamer which stood off; our
baggage strewn on the pier, to be transported hereafter, if the captain
chose to wait. And in this unpleasing state of uncertainty, at six
o'clock in the morning, in a pouring rain, we were put on board the
vessel which was to transport us to Bordeaux.
In spite, however, of the wondrous confusion which made it probable that
accidents of all kinds would ensue, nothing tragical happened, and
nothing was lost. One little stout man, in a long cloak, attached
himself to our side, not so much with a view of affording us _his_
protection, as to obtain it at our hands. He looked very pale and cold;
and as he trudged along in the mud, addressed me frequently, in
tremulous tones, requesting to know my opinion as to the state of _the
ocean_; whether I did not fear that it would be very rough and very
dangerous, confessing that he felt pretty sure such would be the case,
though he had never seen the sea before, and hoping I would not be
alarmed. I assured him I had no fears on that head, as, in the first
place, wide as the expanse before us appeared, it was not the _sea_, but
the _river_, several leagues from its _embouchure_; next, that it was as
calm as a mill-pond, without a breath of wind to ruffle its thick yellow
waters. "Hélas!" said he, "you do not seem to care; but perhaps you have
no baggage as I have, otherwise you would feel great uneasiness."
I found him afterwards on board almost crying after his _effêts_, which
consisted of a hat-box, carpet-bag, and little bundle, all of which
were safely produced. When we had proceeded about an hour, he came
strutting up to us, and, with a patronizing air, exclaimed, "There, you
see, there is no reason to be alarmed; I told you so." I gratified him
exceedingly by agreeing that he was perfectly right.
The Gironde is, indeed, at this part, like the sea: the opposite shores
cannot be distinguished, so broad and fine is the expanse; and the
exceedingly ugly colour of the water is, at first, forgotten in the
magnitude of the space which surrounds the voyager.
But that we had resolved to make ourselves acquainted with the Roman
city of Saintes, we should have followed the usual course, and, on
leaving Rochefort, proceeded across the country to Royan, once an
insignificant village, now a rather important bathing-place. By this
means the whole of the banks of the Gironde may be seen; and it is a
charming voyage.
The first object of interest is the famous Tour de Corduan, built on a
bank of rocks, and placed at the entrance of the river, with its
revolving light to warn mariners of their position. It was originally
constructed in 1548, by the celebrated engineer, Louis de Foix, whose
works at Bayonne have rendered his name illustrious. Pauillac is the
_chef-lieu_ of the last canton of Haut-Medoc, and its port being good,
many vessels, which cannot reach so high as Bordeaux, stop here, and
discharge their cargo. Here grow the wines, called Château Lafitte, and
Château Latour. There is nothing very remarkable in the appearance of
the town but a long pier, of which many of our passengers took advantage
to land, and our steward to go to market, returning with a store of
eatables, for which every one seemed quite ready. The weather had now
cleared, and the aspect of things was, consequently, much brightened;
and, as we approached Blaye, the skies were fine, and the air fresh and
agreeable.
A group of islands, called _Les Isles de Cazau_, rises from the waters;
and on one of them appears the singularly-shaped tower of Blaye, so like
a _pâté de Perigord_, that it is impossible, on looking at it, not to
think of Charlemagne, or his nephew, the famous paladin, Rolando, who
should be the presiding genii of the scene.
All along the left bank of the river extend, in this direction, the
far-famed plains of Medoc--once the haunt of wolves and wild boars, now
covered with the vines renowned throughout Europe.
The first place, after Mortagne--where once stood the castle of that
Jeanne de Vendôme who falsely accused Jacques Coeur--is Pauillac, a town
of some commercial importance; and near is an island, called Patiras,
formerly the abode of a pirate, called Monstri, whose depredations were
so extensive that the parliament of Bordeaux was obliged to send a
considerable naval force to put him down. But Monstri was not the only
depredator who found the Gironde a fitting theatre for his piracy.
Amongst all that _coquinaille_,--as Mezeray designates the notorious
Free Companies who, after their services were no longer required to
drive the English from the recovered realm of Charles VII., exercised
their cruelties and indulged their robber-propensities on the people of
France, wherever they came,--was a knight and a noble, who may serve as
a type of those of his time, Roderigue de Villandras, known as _Le
Méchant Roderigue_; together with Antoine de Chabannes, Lord of
Dammartin, the Bâtard de Bourbon, and others; Villandras led a troop of
those terrible men, who boasted of the name of _Ecorcheurs_. It was true
that, in the lawless period when the destitute _Roi de Bourges_ had
neither money nor power, they had done great service to his cause--as a
troop of trained wolves might have done--ravaging and destroying all
they came near; but the end once accomplished, the great desire of all
lovers of order was to get rid of the scourge which necessity had
obliged the king to endure so long. To such a pitch of insolence had
these leaders arrived, that, not content with despoiling every person
they met, Villandras had, at last, the effrontery to attack and pillage
the baggage of the king himself, and to maltreat his people. Enraged at
finding the vexations of which his suffering subjects had so long
bitterly complained, come home to himself, personally, Charles resolved
on vigorous measures, and gave instant command that these companies
should be pursued and hunted from society: that every town and village
should take up arms against them, and, as for Chabannes, Roderigue,
&c., they were banished from the kingdom. Roderigue, however, retired,
with a chosen band, to the Garonne, and there, entrenching himself in
one of the islands, carried on the trade of a pirate, destroying the
country on each side of the river, and murdering the inhabitants without
mercy.
This state of things lasted for some time: the labouring people and
proprietors, unable to resist these incursions, left their land in
despair, and fled for protection into the towns: the consequence of
which was, that plague and famine ensued, and their miserable country
became a prey to a new species of wretchedness.
In less than six weeks, fifty thousand people died in Paris alone, until
the city became so emptied of inhabitants that not more than three
persons were left to each street. It is recorded that famished wolves
came down upon the great capital, and prowled about the streets as if
they had been in a forest, devouring the bodies scattered about
unburied, and attacking the few living creatures in this great desert.
Meantime, the revolt of the disaffected lords, who composed what was
called the Praguerie, gave new employment to all the _mauvais sujets_ of
the kingdom, and Chabannes and Villandras did not neglect so fine an
opportunity of committing additional outrages; and, for a time, they
carried their terrors throughout Poitou and Champagne. Being taken in
arms, the fearful Bâtard de Bourbon met his deserved fate by being sewn
in a sack and thrown into the river; but Villandras escaped the justice
of the king, in consideration of services required of him and his band
of robbers; and De Chabannes was reinstated in the favour of Charles,
being too powerful and dangerous to offend.
One is not surprised to be told that the fortress of Blaye is called _Le
Paté_: it is, doubtless, of great strength and importance, but not
imposing, in consequence of its want of height, and its flat, crushed
appearance on a marshy island. The exterior walls appear very ancient,
but all the centre of the tower is fitted up with modern buildings,
having common-looking roofs, quite destroying all picturesque effect.
The steamer made the entire tour of the island; so that we saw the fort
on every side, and presently came in full view of the town and citadel
of Blaye, partly on a height and partly on a level with the river. No
part of it offers any beauty; nor does it possess features of majesty
and grandeur, though its recollections cannot fail to excite interest.
The Duchess of Berry must have found her sojourn in this desolate castle
dismal enough: it is an excellent place for a prison; and was, formerly,
no doubt of the utmost importance to Charlemagne, as it probably
continues to be to this day to the ruling powers. The body of Rolando,
after the fatal day when
"Charlemagne and all his peerage fell
At Fontarabia,"
was brought here; and, several centuries afterwards, his tomb was
removed to the church of St. Seurin, at Bordeaux. King Chérébert,
grandson of Clovis, has also his tomb on this rock; but no remains of
it, I believe, are now shown. Our troops, in 1814, could tell of the
obstinate resistance of the citadel, and were well able to measure its
strength.
The banks of the river are, from hence, covered with vines, and are
higher and more rocky. Numerous dwellings cut in the rocky face of the
hills remind one of the same appearance on the borders of the Loire; but
in no other respect can the clay-coloured river claim resemblance with
that crystal though sand-encumbered stream. Several bold rocks diversify
the prospect here,--one called the Roque-de-Tau, and another the
Pain-de-Sucre.
The space where the two rivers, Dordogne and Garonne, meet, and falling
together into one, form the Gironde, is called _L'Entre-Deux-Mers_; and
the shore the Bec d'Ambez. This part is sometimes dangerous; and, I dare
say, our timid fellow-voyager felt a little nervous; but nothing
happened to our boat, as we fell quietly into the Garonne, leaving the
sister river, and its boasted Pont de Cubzac,--the object sought by the
spy-glasses of all on board,--in the distance.
We were now passing along between the shores of the famous river
Garonne--always the scene of contentions, from its importance, and
particularly so during the long wars between France and England in the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Although but few of the castles
whose turrets once frowned along the hills above the waters now remain,
even in ruins, yet, in those days, they were nearly as numerous as the
trees which have now taken their place. Many a time has the banner of
the Black Prince been displayed on the waves of this river, and been
saluted or attacked according as he was victor or besieger. Every inch
of land and water, from the Tour de Corduan to the walls of Bordeaux,
and, indeed, to Agen, has been disputed by struggling thousands, from
the time of Elionore of Guienne to the Duke of Wellington! But it was at
the time when the star of France emerged from its dark clouds, and shone
above the head of Charles VII., that the French shook off the foreign
yoke which had so long kept from them this--one of the finest rivers in
their realms.
Charles VII., after having despoiled his friends and reduced his
enemies, was endeavouring to shut out from his memory the visions of the
betrayed heroine of Orleans and the persecuted merchant of Bourges, the
lost Agnes Sorel and the turbulent and revolted Dauphin; and had retired
to his castle of pleasure at Mehun-sur-Yevre, where he could best
conceal from prying eyes the idle occupations and degrading enjoyments
which filled the time of the hero _of other's swords_. He had just
concluded a peace with Savoy, and had rejected, as vexatious, the
petitions of his subjects of Gascony, who were writhing under the
exactions of his ministers. He felt that all was now at his feet; and he
would not permit his loved ease and quiet to be disturbed by appeals to
his justice and humanity. The people of Guienne, therefore, saw that it
was in vain that they had submitted, and had consented to give up the
English rule, to which they had been so long accustomed, and under which
they had flourished. Several of the higher families allied with that
country, had endured the alienation with uneasiness. Amongst others,
Pierre de Montferrant, who bore the singular title of Souldich de
l'Estrade, or de la Trau, had married a natural daughter of the Duke of
Bedford: he had been forced to capitulate when taken prisoner at Blaye;
but he preserved his ancient attachment to England; and, taking
advantage of the discontent which prevailed, he sent messages to Talbot,
Earl of Shrewsbury, recommending him to attempt the re-conquest of the
Bordelais, which promised to be an easy prize.
The lords of Candale and l'Esparre confirmed his statements, in an
interview with the earl, in London, where they had remained after the
treaty. They assured him that, if the English landed a small force at
Bordeaux, they would certainly be joined by the disaffected, and had
little to contend with; for Charles had withdrawn most of his troops, to
send them against Savoy, and, it was thought, against the Dauphin
himself. This was followed by the announcement that the powerful lords
of Rosan, Gaillard de Durfort, Jean de la Linde, and the Sire de
Langlade, with many other gentlemen of the country, had proclaimed their
intention of rising as soon as the English flag should be displayed on
the Garonne. The Archbishop of Bordeaux and the Bishop of Oleron had
entered into the plot; for there is proof that they had solicited new
favours from Henry VI. before the return of the English to Guienne.
A favourable turn in the affairs of Henry seemed to render the moment
propitious; and Marguerite d'Anjou seized the occasion of success
against her opponents, to despatch Talbot, as the lieutenant of the king
in Aquitaine, with an army of between seven and eight thousand men, with
ample powers to pardon all offences committed against England. The aged
chief, favoured by the wind and weather, arrived at Bordeaux, and was
introduced into the city, by the citizens, before the soldiers of
Charles VII. had even dreamed of his approach. The seneschal, the
under-mayor, and almost all the French garrison, were instantly
surprised and taken prisoners.
Talbot, delighted at his prompt success, roused all his old energy, and,
in an incredibly short space of time, had retaken all the places which
had been lost to the English, in the preceding year, in the Bordelais,
the Agenois, and the Bazadois. Eighty vessels arrived with provisions
from England, and all went well with the conquerors. The French who held
out were obliged to retire to their ancient frontiers, and do their
utmost to defend the remainder of Guienne against the fortunate
invaders.
Meantime, the King of France was dreaming away his life, as he had
formerly done, while the English were lords of his kingdom; but the news
of their return woke him from his slumbers, and, hurrying to Lusignan,
and assembling his forces in haste, he set forth in his character of
warrior, and paused not till he had reached the Dordogne. The two famous
brothers Bureau brought up their sappers and miners, and their
tremendous artillery; nobles and knights flocked to his standard, and
Talbot found that the foe he held in utter contempt, presented an aspect
of resolve worthy of his attention. The old general was about to hear
mass when it was falsely announced to him that a party of his people had
routed the French, who had abandoned their park of artillery, before
Chatillon en Perigord. He started up, and exclaimed, as he interrupted
the ceremony, "I swear that I will never hear mass again till I have
swept away the French from before me." So saying, he rushed to arms,
called out his troops, and marched forth with impetuosity, uttering his
war-cry, "Talbot! Saint George!"
Fatal was his haste, and fatal was the misrepresentation made to him; in
the battle that ensued the gallant veteran and his son were slain, with
upwards of four thousand men; the French were too much harassed to
pursue their victory; but, finding the body of Talbot amongst the heaps
of dead, it was proclaimed to France that their most dreaded enemy was
no more.
"Talbot is slain!--the Frenchman's only scourge;
Their kingdom's terror, and black Nemesis!"
"Whose life was England's glory--Gallia's wonder."
The face of things was now essentially changed; all the influences were
turned to the advantage of 'Charles the Victorious.' One after another
the towns and fortresses on the Garonne, Blancafort, Saint Macaire,
Langon, Villandras, Cadillac, were forced to surrender. And all the
country "_between the two seas_" was in the hands of the French. The
Gironde was filled with vessels sent to the aid of France by Castile,
Burgundy, Bretagne, and all the province of Poitou. On the other hand,
the fleet of England and the Bourdelaise were at anchor half a league
below Bordeaux, and formidable did both appear.
The men of Bordeaux beginning to fear that all was lost, had already
proposed a surrender, on condition of free pardon; but the answer of
Charles had not been favourable; he consented to receive all of English
birth to ransom, but those of his own subjects he insisted should be
left to his mercy. While they paused, reflecting upon the amount of
mercy they might expect, the English, careful only of their own weal,
decided for them, and agreed to the terms, leaving the unfortunate
Gascons, their companions in arms, to their fate.
Charles began by putting to death Gaillardet, the brave commander of
Cadillac; whom he condemned as a rebel, although he had merely done his
duty in obeying the head of a house which his ancestors had been
accustomed to serve for three centuries.
The fevers of Autumn had now begun to appear; several of the generals of
the French king had fallen victims to it; and as Bordeaux still held out
and refused to surrender without certain concessions, dictated by Le
Camus, who refused to sacrifice the Gascons under his command, Charles
was obliged to listen to his representations. He agreed to pardon the
citizens and their adherents, reserving twenty of the most guilty, whose
estates were confiscated, and they banished for ever from the kingdom.
It was on the 19th of October, 1453, that the City of Bordeaux opened
its gates to Charles _the Well-Served_, and the discomfited English
sailed mournfully away from its walls, never to return as its masters.
All the vines along the shores of the Garonne are famous. Cantemerle,
Sauves, Cantenac, and the mighty monarch, Château Margaux; Ludon,
Parampuire, and Blanquefort; St. Louis de Montferrant, and Bassens.
These renowned vineyards cover the country with riches; but fever reigns
here triumphant throughout the year, and the coast denies its advantages
to any but vine-growers.
M. de Peyronnet, the ex-minister, has a château in a pretty situation on
the river; but whether this particular site is unhealthy we did not
hear.
From the Tour de Cordouan to the Port of Bordeaux, extending far over
the wide and marshy country, which spreads out its sandy and unhealthy
plains towards Bayonne, superstition formerly held her head-quarters;
and though, within a few years, belief in the supernatural has lost its
force, the dreams and fancies of the dark ages are not quite effaced.
There is hardly any extravagance credited by the inhabitants of
Brittany, which has not been held as an article of faith in the Landes,
and cast its influence over the departments bordering on the Pyrenees.
There is an idea, not altogether worn out, that certain families are
under a spell, and subject to strange visitations; they are supposed to
be recognized by their heavy, sullen air, and their aversion to society
in general: these are called _Accus_, and are as much avoided as
possible, as they are suspected of witchcraft and other mal-practices;
they are said to have too much experience in the nocturnal amusements
of those mysterious beings called Loups-garoux, so generally known and
dreaded throughout France and Germany.
That the evil one delights in this part of the country is not to be
questioned; and there may be some risk in passing along the river
towards nightfall, because the fiend and his company are apt to haunt
those meadows closest to the waters, and there they may be occasionally
seen dancing in circles, where their hoofs spoil the grass, which
refuses to grow again where once their steps have been. Perhaps the
rapidity of the steam-boat may now prevent their being so often
perceived; or, indeed, its introduction may have offended, and chased
away, the _mesnie_ of the fiend altogether.
Between the Dordogne and the Garonne, l'Entre-deux-Mers, it is generally
believed that a male child who has never known his father, as well as a
_fifth_ son, have the power to cure certain maladies by the touch. And
it is in these parts that the once famous Dragon of Bordeaux used
principally to sojourn, much to the terror of the surrounding
neighbourhood. There is scarcely any malignant spirit, from a
_loup-garou_ to _an ague_, which cannot be found in the deserts of
Aquitaine.
Often do the peasants of Medoc hear in the air, sometimes in mid-day,
sometimes in the clear nights of summer, the horns and cries of the
phantom hunter, Arthur and his men. If he is, indeed, the same King
Arthur, whose fame is enshrined in the legends of Wales and Brittany,
he must have been a prince with even a more extended domain than that of
Henry, the husband of Queen Elionore, for he carries on his chace on the
banks of the Gave of Pau, and still further into the Pyrenees. He was a
very excellent and pious prince, valiant and courteous; but he had one
great fault, an inordinate love of hunting, which in the end proved his
bane. For once, on the occasion of some solemn fête, while he was in the
church assisting at the mass, some mischievous friend brought him word,
that a fine wild boar had just appeared at a very short distance from
the holy precincts. In a moment, his respect for religion, his reverence
for the sacred ceremony in which he was engaged, all were put to flight;
he uttered a joyous shout, seized his spear, and rushed forth to the
sport. He enjoyed a most animated hunt, but--
"So comes the reck'ning when the banquet's o'er,--
A dreadful reck'ning--and men smile no more!"
From that day he _hunted eternally_ and _in vain_!--for ever is he
traversing the vast field of air, urging on his steed, hallowing to his
hounds, sounding his horn, and madly rushing over mountain and plain,
reflected in the sky; but he has never yet, nor ever will attain the
object of his pursuit!
There are certain spots in the Landes where trees of strange appearance
grow, which may be recognised as those under which the evil one
distributes poison to his human friends, to dispense to those who have
fallen under their displeasure: the districts where these meetings take
place are fortunately known and avoided, but to such a height had grown
the daring of the friends of Satan at one time, that the King of
France,--no other than Henry the Fourth (!)--under the ministry of Sully
(!) sent persons into these climes to root out the evil. The famous
_witch-finder_, Pierre de Lancre, has recorded his successes in this
particular.
"The King," says he, "being informed that his country of Labourt was
greatly infested with sorcerers, gave commission to a president and a
counsellor of the court of parliament of Bordeaux, to seek out the crime
of sorcery in the said country, about the year 1609.
"This commission was entrusted to the Sieur Despagnet and I: we
dedicated four months to the search, during which happened an infinity
of _unknown things, strange, and out of all belief_, of which books
written on the subject have never spoken: such for instance, as _that
the devil came and held his meetings at the gates of Bordeaux, and in
the quarter of the Palais Gallien_, which _fact_ was declared at his
execution by Isaac Dugueyran, a notable sorcerer, _who was put to death_
in 1609. It appears to me that it will be extremely useful, nay
necessary, to France and the whole of Christendom, to have this account
in writing for many reasons.
"All this must convince the most obstinate, stupid, blind, and
_ignorant_, that there is no longer a doubt that sorcery exists, and
that the devil can transport sorcerers really and corporally to his
sabbath: and that there is no longer any excuse for disputing on the
subject, for all nations are agreed concerning the truth, aided by
_ocular_ demonstration, permitted to an impartial judge and good
Christian. _Too much mildness is shown in France towards sorcerers:_ all
good judges should in future resolve to punish with death all such as
have been convicted of attending the devil's assemblies, even if no harm
has immediately resulted therefrom: for to such an extent has witchcraft
spread that it has passed the frontier and reached the city of Bayonne,
which is cruelly afflicted in consequence. Satan having made great
advances and spread his sabbaths over an infinity of places in our
deserts and Landes of Bordeaux."[11]
[Footnote 11: This part of the world seemed always to be looked upon as
the head quarters of sorcery; for in the Chronicles of Bordeaux we find,
in the year 1435, the following notice:--"Les environs de Bordeaux sont
_fort travaillez_ par les sorciers et empoisonneurs, dont aucuns furent
exécutes à mort et brûlé tous vifs."]
In consequence of the representations of this righteous judge, _eight
hundred victims_ were condemned to the flames for this pretended crime:
and this, incredible as it may appear, by command of Le Bon Henri and
his Protestant minister, Sully! At the very period, too, permission was
refused to the unfortunate Moors, then driven by bigotry from Spain, to
establish themselves in the Landes, where their industry and
perseverance would soon have converted the barren waste into a fertile
and smiling country, instead of remaining for centuries an unwholesome
marsh.
Neglected and uncultivated as this extended country has long been--only
_now_, in fact, assuming an aspect of improvement--it is not surprising
that superstition has lingered longer amongst its uneducated people than
with their more fortunate neighbours. Within ten years new roads have
been made, new buildings erected, and a rail-road is projected across
the Landes from Bordeaux to Bayonne: it may, therefore, be now expected
that the last vestige of idle belief in witches and demons will shortly
disappear; but, in the meantime, much of such weakness is lingering
still. For instance, the Landais believe that in certain maladies the
physician has no power, and that recourse must be had, for relief, to
certain gifted persons, who will propitiate the evil spirit who caused
the ill. They attribute great virtue to what they call _les Veyrines_,
namely, narrow openings in the thickness of the pillars of a church:
persons affected with rheumatic diseases, have only to pass through
these narrow spaces, repeating at the time certain prayers, having
previously made the circuit of the pillar nine times. His head is first
inserted, and the rest of his body is pushed through by his friends.
These practices are, in spite of the exertions of the clergy, said to be
still carried on in secret.
In the month of May they strew the street before their houses with
reeds, on fête days, and there they frequently pass their evenings,
sitting in groups, and telling to each other superstitious stories,
which are eagerly listened to, and thus handed down from father to son.
The _orfraie_ and the screech-owl are looked upon with terror in the
Landes: their approach to any dwelling bodes evil in all forms: the dead
quit their tombs at night and flit about in the fens, and covered with
their white shrouds come wandering into the villages, nor will they quit
them till the prayers and alms of their friends have calmed their
perturbed spirits.
The various tribes of the Landes, form, as it were, in the midst of
France, a separate people, from their habits and customs: they are
called, according to their locality, Bouges, Parants, Mazansins,
Couziots, or Lanusquets: they are generally a meagre race, and subject
to nervous affections; taking little nourishment, and living a life of
privation and fatigue. Obliged to labour for their support, like most
people in the departments of the Pyrenees, and to dispose of the
products of their industry, they have usually fixed places of repose;
each peasant drives his cart drawn by two oxen, and carries with him the
food for those patient animals, who are the very picture of endurance.
His own food is generally coarse, ill-leavened bread, very hardly baked,
and made of coarse maize, or rye-flour, which he sometimes relishes
with _sardines_ of Galicia. He gives his oxen a preparation of dried
linseed from which the oil has been extracted, and which he has made
into flour, and he then lets them loose on the Landes for a time, while
he snatches a hasty sleep, soon interrupted to resume his journey. The
dwellings of these people are sufficiently wretched: low, damp, and
exposed to both the heat and cold by the rude manner in which they are
constructed; a fire is kept in the centre of the principal room, from
which small closets open: they sleep in general under two _feather
beds_, in a close, unwholesome air, many in the same room. Still their
domestic arrangements seem a degree better than those of the Bretons,
and their dirt does not appear so great, bad as it must necessarily be.
The dress of the men is a large, heavy, brown stuff cloak, or a long
jacket of sheepskin, with the fur outwards; to which, when gaiters of
the same are added, there is little difference between them and the
animals they tend: a very small _berret_, the cap of the country, covers
merely the top of their heads, and is but of little use in sheltering
them in rainy weather. The women wear large round hats with great wings,
adorned with black ribbon, and sometimes with a herb, which they call
Immortelle de Mer;[12] the young girls frequently, however, prefer a
small linen cap, the wings of which are crossed over the top of the
head.
[Footnote 12: See for these particulars, Athanasie Maritime.--_Du
Mège_.]
Shepherds are almost always clothed in sheepskins, and in winter they
wear over this a white woollen cloak with a very pointed hood. These are
the people who make their appearance on stilts, called _Xicanques_, and
traverse the Landes with their flocks, crossing streams of several feet
deep, and striding along like flying giants. They have always a long
pole, with a seat affixed, and a gun slung at their backs, to defend
them from the attack of wolves. Monotonous enough must be the lives of
these poor people, for months together, alone, in a solitary waste,
where not a tree can grow, with nothing but a wide extent of marshy land
around, and only their sheep and dogs as companions; but they are
accustomed to it from infancy, and probably are comparatively insensible
to their hardships, at least it is so to be hoped. Seated on his
elevated seat, the shepherd of the Landes occupies himself in knitting
or spinning, having a contrivance for the latter peculiar to this part
of the country. Their appearance, thus occupied, is most singular and
startling.
A dignitary of Bordeaux is said once to have prepared a fête to an
Infanta of Spain, the destined bride of a French prince, in the Landes;
in which he engaged a party of these mounted shepherds, dressed in
skins, and covered with their white mantles and hoods, to figure,
accompanied by a band of music, and passing under triumphal arches
formed of garlands of flowers: a strange scene in such a desert, but
scarcely so imposing to a stranger as the unexpected apparition of these
beings in the midst of their native desolation.
The Landais seldom live to an advanced age: they marry early, are very
jealous, and are said to enjoy but little of the domestic happiness
attributed to the poor as a possession; they are accused of being
indifferent to their families, and of taking more care of their flocks
and herds than of their relations: they are docile and obedient to
authority; honest, and neither revengeful nor deceitful.
Whether from affection or habit, they show great sensibility on the
death of neighbours or friends. The women cover their heads, in the
funeral procession, with black veils or aprons, and the men with the
pointed hood and cloak. During the whole year, after the decease of a
father or mother, all the kitchen utensils _are covered with a veil_,
and _placed in an opposite direction to that in which they stood
before_; so that every time anything is wanted the memory of the dead is
revived.
The Landais, on the sea-coast, are, like the Cornish people, reproached,
perhaps falsely, with being _wreckers_; and their cry of "Avarech!
Avarech!" is said to be the signal of inhumanity and plunder.
Their marriages are attended with somewhat singular ceremonies, and
their method of making love is equally strange: after church, on a fête
day, a number of young people, of both sexes, dance together to a
monotouous tune, while others sit round in a circle on their heels,
watching them. After dancing a little time, a pair will detach
themselves from the rest, squeeze each other's hand, give a few glances,
and then whisper together, striking each other at the same time; after
which they go to their relations, and say they _are agreed_, and wish to
marry: the priest and notary are called for, the parents consent, and
the day is at once fixed.
On the appointed day, the _Nobi_ (future husband) collects his friends,
and goes to the bride's house, where he knocks; the father, or some near
relation, opens to him, holding by the hand an _old woman_, whom he
presents: she is rejected by the bridegroom, who demands her who was
promised. She then comes forward with a modest air, and gives her lover
a flower; who, in exchange, presents her with a belt, which he puts on
himself. This is very like the customs in Brittany, where scenes of the
kind always precede weddings.
When the bride comes to her husband's house, she finds at the door a
broom; or, if he takes possession of her's, a ploughshare is placed
there: both allegorical of their duties. The distaff of the bride is
carried by an old woman throughout the ceremonies.
The Landais, altogether, both as to habits, manners, and general
appearance, form a singular feature in the aspect of this part of
France.