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Matilda Betham-Edwards - Holidays in Eastern France
ravine below. The road itself was opened in 1845, and is mainly due to the public spirit of the inhabitants
of Ornans.
Franche-Comte is rich in zig-zagging mountain roads of daring construction, and none are more
wonderful than this. As we crawl at a snail's pace between rocks and ravine, silvery grey masses
towering against the glowing purple sky, deepest green fastnesses below that make us giddy to behold,
all is still but for the sea-like war of the little river as it pours down impetuously from its mountain home.
The heavy rain of the previous night unfortunately prevents us from following it to its source, a delightful
excursion in tolerably dry weather, but impracticable after a rain-fall. By far the best, way is to sleep at
Monthier and visit the source on foot, but fatigue may be avoided by taking a carriage from Pontarlier.
Between Monthier and the source of the Loue is a bit of wild romantic scenery known as the Combes
de Nouaille, home of the Franc-Comtois elf, or fairy, called la Vouivre. Combe, it
must be explained, means a straight, narrow valley lying between two mountains, and Charles Nodier
remarks: "is very French, and is perfectly intelligible in any part of the country, but has been omitted in
the Dictionary of the Academy, because there is no combe at the Tuileries, the Champs Elysees
or the Luxembourg!" These close winding combes form one of the most characteristic and
picturesque features of Franc-Comtois scenery. Leaving the more adventuresome part of this journey
therefore to travellers luckier in respect of weather than ourselves, we turn our horses' heads towards
Ornans, where we rest for coffee and a little chat with friends. As we set out for Besancon, a splendid
glow of sunset lights up Courbet's birth and favourite abiding place, clothing in richest gold the hills and
hanging woods he portrayed with so much vigour and poetic feeling. The glories of the sinking sun
lingered long, and, when the last crimson rays faded, a full pearly moon rose in the clear heavens,
lighting us on our way.
A few days after this delightful excursion, I left Besancon, as I had done Montbeliard, amid the heartiest
leave-takings, and the last recollection I brought away from the venerable town is of two little fair-haired
boys, whose faces were lifted to mine for a farewell kiss in the railway station.
CHAPTER VIII. SALINS, ARBOIS, AND THE WINE COUNTRY OF THE JURA.
Hardly has the traveller quitted Besancon in the direction of Lons-le-Saunier ere he finds himself amid
wholly different scenery; all is now on a bolder, vaster scale, desolate sweeps of rocky plain, shelving
mountain sides, bits of scant herbage alternating with vineyards, the golden foliage lending wondrous
lustre to the otherwise arid landscapes, the rocks rising higher and higher as we go - such are the features
that announce the Jura. We have left the gentler beauties of the Doubs behind us, and are now in one of
the most romantic and picturesque regions of all France. Salins, perhaps the only cosmopolitan town that
the Jura can be said to possess, since hither English and other tourists flock in the summer season, is
superbly situated - a veritable fairy princess guarded by monster dragons! Four tremendous mountain
peaks protect it on every side, towering above the little town with imposing aspect; and it is no less
strongly defended by art, each of these mountain tops being crested with fortifications. Salins bears
indeed a formidable front to the enemy, and no wonder the Prussians could not take it. Strategically, of
course, its position is most important, as a glance at the map will show. It is in itself a wonderful little
place from its "assiette," as the French say; and wherever you go you find wild natural beauty, while the
brisk mountain air is delightful to breathe, and the transparent atmosphere lends an extra glow to every
feature of the scene.
At Salins too we find ourselves in a land of luxuries, i.e., clean floors, chamber-maids, bells,
sofas, washing basins and other items in hygiene and civilization not worth mentioning. The Hotel des
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