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Updated: May 3, 2025
But alike compassion for the beasts and energy had gone far enough, we were only too glad to reseat ourselves, and drive, or rather be whirled, down to St. Marie-aux-Mines in the vehicle. Do what we would there was no persuading our driver to slacken pace enough so as to admit of a full enjoyment of the prospect that unfolded before us. The wonderful little town!
It is curious to reflect that St. Marie-aux-Mines, mentioned as Markirch in ancient charts, did not become entirely French till the eighteenth century.
We would willingly have spent some days at Marie-aux-Mines no better headquarters for excursionizing in these regions! but too much remained for us to do and to see in Alsace. We dared not loiter on the way. Everywhere we find plenty of French tourists, many of them doing their holiday travel in the most economical fashion.
The bright green space, the delicate arcades of soft grey, the bits of foliage here and there, with the two silent churches blocking in all, make up an impressive scene. We wanted the country, however, rather than the towns, so after a few days at St. Die, hired a carriage to take us to St. Marie-aux-Mines or Markirch, on the German side of the frontier, and not accessible from this side by rail.
Die, bishopric and chef-lieu of the department of the Vosges, without feeling sure of our next move. Fortunately a French acquaintance advised us to drive to St. Marie-aux-Mines, one of the most wonderful little spots in these regions, of which we had never before heard. A word or two, however, concerning St. Die itself, one of the most ancient monastic foundations in France.
As we enter it from the St. Die side we find just room for a carriage to wind along the little river and the narrow street. But at the other end the valley opens, and St. Marie-aux-mines spreads itself out. Here are factories, handsome country houses, and walks up-hill and down-hill in abundance.
Nothing ruffles a French mind when bent on holiday-making. The good-nature, bonhomie, and accommodating spirit displayed under trying circumstances might be imitated by certain insular tourists with advantage. From St. Marie-aux-Mines we journeyed to Gustave Dore's favourite resort, Barr, a close, unsavoury little town enough, but in the midst of bewitching scenery.
Die will not be tempted to continue their journey, at least as far as the beautiful valleys of Munster and St. Marie-aux-Mines, both peopled by French people under German domination. Arrived at either of these places, the tourist will be at a loss which route to take of the many open to him.
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