Along France's river of romance: . , shady avenue, flanked bydelightful woods that stretch down to the low woods, however, are Terrains Militaires, andyou are forbidden to explore. The notice was a reminderof the important part played by the Loire, and by theArmee de la Loire—^last hope of France—in the Franco-Prussian War. Cosne has still a permanent garrisonconsisting of a regiment of infantry numbering about1400 men. There are many parts of Cosne that have a quietprettiness and charm, especially where the little riverNohain winds its gentle course through the town,overhung b
Along France's river of romance: . , shady avenue, flanked bydelightful woods that stretch down to the low woods, however, are Terrains Militaires, andyou are forbidden to explore. The notice was a reminderof the important part played by the Loire, and by theArmee de la Loire—^last hope of France—in the Franco-Prussian War. Cosne has still a permanent garrisonconsisting of a regiment of infantry numbering about1400 men. There are many parts of Cosne that have a quietprettiness and charm, especially where the little riverNohain winds its gentle course through the town,overhung by tall trees, banked by trim, green lawns orlittle gardens bright with flowers, and spied on by ahundred shy windows of back bedrooms. The streamcomes down from the Donziois and supplies—in less COSNE AND BRIARE 135 romantic moments—power for the factories which havesucceeded the forges of which Mme. de Sevigne has leftus a picture in her Letters. These forges existed uptill 1870, and made many of the anchors for the Street in Cosne but they disappeared when the French Admiraltycentralised its manufacture of chains and anchors atGuerigny. A great iron foundry has also vanished, butmetal-working is still an important industry at Cosne,and a number of workpeople are employed in the 136 THE LOIRE manufacture of files and nails. No one would suspectfrom a short visit that Cosne boasted any industriesat all, the workshops are so well-concealed, the shadycentral streets of the town so placid. It has not at allthe air of a manufacturing place ; nothing could bemore rural than its market, with the garrulous, red-facedpeasant women in white caps sitting under theirumbrellas beside their piles of vegetables. I rememberwell the impression of peacefulness and comfort con-veyed by the sight of a great wagon loaded with hayon the top of which a little soldier, very much undressed,lay fast asleep. And Cosne is linked for ever in my mind with Alponne—king of men. The tent of A
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