CORRESPONDENCE.
EASTER-DAY AMONG THE BASQUES.
LENT is over,—a meaning and active fact this, among the Basques, for they are a devout people, and are wont to observe the fasts of the Church with diligence ; and Holy Week, with its abstinence from meat, butter, and other luxuries, coming as it does after weeks of tempered fasting, makes a contrast not only in the services of the Church, but in the everyday life of the people, which is both felt and seen. This Easter- Day of the year of our Lord 1894 broke cloudless over the little town of St. Jean de Luz ; from early morning could be heard a continuous talking in what seems to us the nnmelodious Basque tongue, as the good people from the numerous outlying farms and cottages strolled along the stony street on their way to the beautiful old parish church of St. Jean, the sound of their voices drowning the soft patter of their hemp-soled "espadrilles," the universal foot-gear of the country. Till the late afternoon, they crowd into the great church in incredible numbers ; the men packed close in their three galleries, tier above tier, the women occupying the entire body of the church ; service gives place to service ; and the streets of the little town are deserted and left to the for once undisturbed possession of the dogs, who in fancied security doze against the walla on the hot pavement,—the Basques are callous to, we had almost said lovers of, animal suffering. That a dog is unobservant, or frightened, seems a sufficient reason for every man and boy to throw the largest available stone at him; but for once there is scarcely a native to be seen; all the shops are closed, not an ox-cart nor a panier- laden donkey disturbs the echoes of the narrow streets, and sunny plane-tree-planted place. About 4 o'clock the scene begins to change; a few groups of men or women appear in the great place, bounded on one side by the harbour, on the other by a row of houses ending in the " Maison Louis XIV.," where that King of doubtful memory stayed when he came to marry the Infanta in the old parish church. At first the groups are few and far between ; but as the minutes fly they multiply, and by the time the members of ti e town band make their appearance, each musician crowned with a scarlet " berret," and file into their places in the land-stand, there is a tolerable and momently increasing concourse scattered among the budding plane-trees round the place. There is practically no shade to be had ; but the women make up for the customary absence of any head-dress by the most varied and brilliant cotton sunshades,—red, blue, green, brown, black. To each the sun lends added colour, till even the scarlet " berrets " in the band-stand seem dull by comparison. At first the strains of the music, silent since the Carnival, which, with lingering licence, prolonged itself into Ash Wednesday, only serve to stimu- late conversation, and the buzz of voices grows yet louder, as the groups, mostly formed of men or maidens, seldom mixed, perambulate up and down, some with arms linked, in unsteady lines of five or six. There are children, too, here, there, and everywhere ; little Basque boys with blue blouses over their knickerbockers, belts round their waists, and berrets, and pretty little maidens with dark eyes and uncovered heads ; an old woman with a large open basket is offering various unwholesome-looking cakes for sale, and a boy carrying a cylinder-shaped object with " Vrai plaisir de Paris " painted on it, and revolving handles on the top, is trying to induce
customers to come and venture sons on the chance of winning a pile of thin sweet biscuits. There is perpetual movement in this holiday crowd. Then a sudden inspiration seizes a:. couple of boys, and they begin to dance the fandango with by no means ungraceful steps.
The contagion is quick, and in a few minutes we have four- or five couples dancing, each with its ring of spectators pressed. closely round to watch, but careful to leave room sufficient not to cramp the dancers. Fishermen and girls these performers —" lea jeunes files comme il faut ne dansent pas stir in Place"' —but very graceful and pretty are these others. The habit of carrying heavy baskets of fish on the head seems to lend a cer- tain dignity to these fishergirls, and the dance itself is full of grace. In and out they wind, the hands raised on either side,, the fingers snapped in time with the music; the man pursues the girl, then they both pause and dance opposite each other, then the mimic chase begins again, this time two couples. dancing in the same open space, with the lookers-on crowding round to watch. The pause in the music comes all too soon,. but that it releases our attention to watch the arrival of a sardine-boat, laden with fish, which, running up beside the- little jetty, is instantly besieged by an army of women, eager, almost fierce, in their desire to be served as soon as possible, that they may be early with their merchandise, and secure the- best custom from the frugal housewives of St. Jean. The- Pyrenees behind the harbour and the bridges are blue and purple in the evening light, the crowd in the place chat and stroll in the pauses of the music, over all streams the evening- sunshine; in the middle distance is the knot of anxious struggling women, leaning over to the boat below, with its. crew of men busy with the handling of the silvery little fish, so important to them all,—the band a4 the dancing are nothing to them for the moment, the stress of their daily life- is upon them, and happy are those who first secure their fish, and with the large fiat baskets poised upon their heads, speed, away to make the narrow streets resound with their shrill,. harsh cry..
Before the sun has set behind the headland of Secoa, the- band-stand is again untenanted, and the crowd melts away as- naturally as it came ; there are tender little partings under- the twisted plane-trees, for there is many a long stretch of-- dusty road to be covered before nightfall, the little white- cottages with their brown abutters lie far apart among the hills and fields ; and as the sunset-light spreads across the - sky, St. Jean de Luz resumes its ordinary aspect, and music- and dancing become things of the past,—but happily of the- future also, for are there not many such flutes to come, now" that the season of sunshine and flowers is at hand and the- weeks of penitence are over P
Previous page
