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Matilda Betham-Edwards - Holidays in Eastern France

drink out of a glass used by that man," he said, and doubtless he was only echoing the popular sentiment.

Ornans is the birthplace of the princely Perronet de Granvelle (father of the Cardinal whose portrait by
Titian adorns the picture-gallery of Besancon), and whose munificent patronage of arts and letters turned

that city into a little Florence during the Spanish regime. In the church is seen the plain red marble

sarcophagus of his parents, also a carved reading desk and several pictures presented to the church by his

son, the Cardinal. There is a curious old Spanish house in the town, a relic of the same epoch. Ornans is

celebrated for its cherry orchards and fabrications of Kirsch, also for Absinthe, and its wines.

Everywhere you see cherry orchards and artificial terraces for the vines as on the Rhine, not a ledge of

hill side being wasted. Gruyere cheese, so called, is also made here, and there are besides several

manufactures, nail-forges, wire-drawing mills, and tile-kilns. But none of these interfere with the

pastoralness of the scenery, and no wonder that this attracts French artists in the summer time. Lovely

walks and drives abound, and the magnificence of the forest trees has been made familiar to us by the

landscapes of Courbet, whose name will ever be associated with this quaint village in the Valley of the

Loue.

We are now on the high road from Ornans to Pontarlier, and are passing some of the wealthiest little
communities in Franche-Comte, Montgesoye, Vuillafans, Lods, all most picturesque to behold, and

important centres of industry. Iron foundries, kirsch distilleries, chemical works, and other manufactures

maintain these rustic populations, and such isolated little nuclei of trade will doubtless take extraordinary

development when the line of railway from Besancon to Pontarlier, by way of Ornans, is completed. At

present it is one of the few places that may be described as out of the world, and a veritable paradise for

the lover of quiet and rusticity. If we proceed further on the Monthier road, the aspect changes, and we

find ourselves in the winding close-shut valley, the narrow turbulent little streams of deepest green

tossing over its rocky bed amid hanging vineyards and lofty cliffs. Soon, however, the vine, the oak, the

beech, and the ash tree disappear, and we have instead the sombre pine and fir only.

Monthier is perched on a hill-side amid grandiose mountains, and is hardly less picturesque than Ornans,
though not nearly so enticing. In fact it is a trifle dirty when visited in detail, though charming, viewed

from the high road above. Here we sat down to an excellent dinner at one end of the

salle-a-manger
; at the other was a long table where a number of peasant farmers, carters, and graziers
- it was fair day - were faring equally well: our driver was amongst them, and all were as quiet and

well-behaved as possible, but given to spit on the floor, "as is their nature to." The charges were very

low, the food good, the wine sour as vinegar, and the people obliging in the extreme. The hotels in these

parts are very much on a par with caravanserais in Algeria; bells, fire-places, and other necessities of

civilized life are unknown, the bed-rooms are often reached by an outside staircase only, and afford such

accommodation we should not think luxurious for a stable-boy in England, and these often, moreover,

adjoin a noisy upper salle-a-manger, where eating, and drinking, and talking go on all day long.

After having stopped to look at the beautiful old wood carvings in the church, we continue our way,
climbing the mountain road towards Pontarlier; hardly knowing which to admire most, the deep-lying

valley at our feet, where the little imprisoned river curls with a noise as of thunder, making miniature

cascades at every step, or the limestone rocks of majestic shape towering above on the other side. One of

them, the so-called Roche de Hautepierre, is nearly nine hundred yards high; the road all the time

zigzags wonderfully around the mountain sides, a stupendous piece of engineering which cost the

originator his life. Soon after passing the tunnel cut in the rock, we saw an inscription telling how the

engineer, while engaged in taking his measurements, lost his footing and was precipitated into the awful

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