A dignitary of Bordeaux arranged a fete and procession in these Landes on one occasion; triumphal arches were erected, hung with flowers and garlands; and the feature of the parade was a sedate platoon of these heron-like shepherds engaged for the occasion, dressed in skins, decked with white hoods and mantles, preceded by a band of music, and stalking by fours imposingly down the line of march.

II.

We are nearing the Pyrenees now, and entering the ancient and famous province of Bearn, once a noted centre of mediaeval chivalry.  Beam did not become part of France until almost modern times.[13] For seven hundred years preceding, its successive rulers held their brilliant court unfettered and unpledged.  “Ours,” declared its barons and prelates in assembly, “is a free country, which owes neither homage nor servitude to any one.”  The life of the province was its own, separated entirely from that of the kingdom.  It had its own succession, its own wars and feuds, its own love of country.  It has a national history in miniature.  “If I have excused myself from bearing arms upon either side,” said one of its rulers, replying to the royal remonstrances, “I have, as I think, good reasons for it:  the wars between England and France no way concern me, for I hold my country of Bearn from God, my sword and by inheritance.  I have not therefore any cause to enter into the service or incur the hatred of either of these kings.”

[13] In 1620.

There is a pleasant old legend which touches the true note of Bearn.  Toward the year 1200, three of its rulers, in turn misgoverning, were in turn deposed by the barons.  The heirs next in line were the infant twins of one William de Moncade.  “It was agreed,” as Miss Costello relates it; “that one of these should fill the vacant seat of sovereignty of Bearn, and two of the prudhommes were deputed to visit their father with the proposition.  On their arrival at his castle, the sages found the children asleep, and observed with attention their infant demeanor.  Both were beautiful, strong and healthy; and it was a difficult matter to make an election between two such attractive and innocent creatures.  They were extremely alike, and neither could be pronounced superior to the other; the prudhommes were strangely puzzled, for they had been so often deceived that they felt it to be most important that they should not err this time.  As they hung in admiration over the sleeping babes, one of them remarked a circumstance that at once decided their preference and put an end to their vacillation:  one of the little heroes held his hand tightly closed; the tiny, mottled palm of the other was wide open as it lay upon his snowy breast.  ‘He will be a liberal and bold knight,’ said one of the Bearnais, ‘and will best suit us as a head.’  This infant was accordingly chosen, given up by his parents to the wise men, and carried off in triumph to be educated among his future subjects.  The event proved their sagacity, and the object of their choice lived to give them good laws and prosperity.”