The Roof of France | Page 8

the period of later efflorescence. The second is
altogether unbeautiful, and we wonder why such a work should ever
have been undertaken at all. Far better to have left the cathedral one-
towered, as those of Sens and Auxerre.
The town itself would be pleasant enough if its ædiles were more alive
to the importance of sanitation. It never seems to occur to the
authorities in these regions to have the streets scoured and swept. Just
outside Mende is a delicious little mountain-path, commanding a
wondrous panorama: although this walk to the hermitage of St. Privât is
evidently the holiday-stroll of the inhabitants, accumulations of filth lie
on either side. [Footnote: The same remark might be made by a
Frenchman of the lanes near Hastings!] No one takes any notice. As
Mende has without doubt an important future before it, let us hope that
these drawbacks will not afflict travellers in years to come. The little
capital of the Lozère must by virtue of position become a tourist centre;
surely the townsfolk will at last wake up to the importance of making
their streets clean and wholesome.
To obtain the prettiest view of this charming, albeit tatterdemalion,
little city, we follow a walk bordered with venerable willows to the
railway station. Here is seen a belt of beautifully kept vegetable
gardens and orchards, all fresh and green as if just washed by April
showers. These are the property of peasant-owners, who dispose of
their crops here and at Langogne. As yet the good townsfolk are hardly
alive to the benefits of a railway. One of our drivers complained that it

ruined the trades alike of carriage proprietor, conductor, and carter;
another averred that the local manufacture of woollen goods, formerly
of considerable account, was at a standstill owing to the importations of
cheaper cloths. These grumblers will doubtless erelong take a different
tone, as the glorious scenery of the Lozère becomes more widely
known and Mende is made the tourists' headquarters. Our hotel,
situated in the middle of the town, offers good beds, good food, dirty
floors, charges low enough to please Mr. Joseph Pennell, and a total
absence of anything in the shape of modern ideas. The people are
charming, and the house is a mousy, ratty, ramshackle place hundreds
of years old.
It may be as well to mention that folk assured me I was the first
English-speaking lady ever seen at Mende. A short time before no little
excitement had been created by the appearance of six young
Englishmen in knickerbockers, footing it with knapsack on shoulder.
But lady- tourists from the other side of La Manche? Never! Be this as
it may, it is as well for my country-women, if any follow me hither, to
avoid insular eccentricities of dress. The best plan, before exploring
wholly remote regions of France, is to buy the neatest possible
head-gear and travelling-costume in Paris. Without meaning to be
impertinent, bystanders will stand agape at the sight of any strangers,
English or French. Even my young French companion was stared at,
just because she was not a native of the place. Very obligingly, she
offered to fetch my letters from the poste restante, and look out for
photographs. As she had spent some time in England and acquired
certain habits of independence, I accepted. But not twice!
The poor girl found so many eyes following her, that she took refuge in
the cathedral. As there chanced to be an abbé in the confessional handy,
she very sensibly seized the opportunity by the forelock, and performed
the duty of confession. But I did not permit her to roam about alone
after that.
Meantime, the médécin militaire and his wife had set out for the
Causses and the Cañon du Tarn, and their enthusiasm but served to
heighten my own. That shooting of the rapids, too, I now heard of for

the first time, lent a spice of exhilarating hazard and adventure to the
excursion. They were going to shoot the rapids of the Tarn. Why
should I not follow their example?
Sorely tempted as I was to carry out the same programme, once more I
hesitated. I could obtain very little precise information as to the real
difficulties, if any, that beset the way, but everyone agreed that it was
not at all a commonplace journey--in other words, not a very easy one.
The long drive across the solitary Causse to St. Éminie or Florac, the
four relays of boatmen necessary for the descent of the Tarn, the
doubtfulness of the accommodation at the different halting- places--all
these details had to be considered. Touring it through the Causses
seemed, indeed, beset with difficulties. You have not only to take food
with you for horse and man, but water also--ay, and make sure that