every part of its vicinity. We were told that several English families had had houses here a few years since, but all have deserted it at present; the town is poor, and the society, once said to be extremely lively, quite destroyed. There appears to be no spirit of improvement, and the little that is done is in the worst possible style of taste.

We hired a carriage to take us to Vire, and experienced all the miseries that four hours' dislocation in a machine without springs, on an indifferent road, could inflict. In the intervals of our suffering we could manage to remark the extreme beauty of the Bocage country. Sourdeval stands well, and though there is no vestige of its castle, and its church is all modern, except a curious carving on one of the walls, it is an interesting place, clean and cheerful, with fine public walks and boulevards. We were greatly amused on the road by meeting a cavalcade consisting of no less than twenty-five horses; on each of which, in gala dresses, and carrying enormous bouquets, sat a man, and behind him a female friend. Closing the train appeared two cabriolets, in which sat others of the party, probably the most important personages, for everything told that this was a wedding. It seemed as if we were witnessing some scene of the

SINGULAR RIDING.

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middle ages, so primitive and singular was the effect. The women, though not in this case, in these parts frequently ride astride. We met several going to market, and some of a higher condition, attended by a servant.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Bocage.-Vire.-Chateau.-Public Walks.-Les Vaux.Military Guide.- Basselin.-The Poet's Mill.-The little

Fairy.

Voici l'étroit sentier de l'obscure vallée;

Du flanc de ses coteaux pendent des bois épais,
Qui, courbant sur mon front leur ombre entremelée,
Me couvrent tout entier de silence et de paix.

LAMARTINE,

HE entrance to the town of Vire from Mortain, is by a precipitous street which seems almost perpendicular; and, the pavement being remarkably bad, it is a service

of danger to mount the hill through a street, narrow, dirty, and old beyond all conception. Projecting roofs and upper stories meeting each other and excluding the light; crowds, as usual, at the doors, gazing with countenances full of gaiety. The hill once surmounted, we drove at a brisker pace through better streets; which, improving by degrees, introduced us to the inn at the op

posite extremity of the town, where we were to descend. A fine view was now before us, good houses and new roads; and we rejoiced not a little that our journey was at an end, and even agreed with our conducteur that nothing could be better than his carriage, which he vaunted and offered us the benefit of to continue our route wherever we pleased. He departed extremely satisfied, though we were several hours longer, he acknowledged, than was customary, and he confessed that his machine was innocent of springs; "mais elle vous a mené tout de même," which could not be contradicted. A very different spirit seems to inspire the Virois to that which is observable in their neighbours of Mortain. Nothing is neglected here to render their town agreeable, and every day improvements are making; old streets and houses are being cleared away, for which there is much occasion, and handsome buildings appearing. But what is chiefly remarkable in Vire is the public walks, which are really admirable, both within and without the town. As if to shame the degenerate inhabitants of Mortain, who have destroyed their castle, the Virois have preserved with care all that remains of theirs. It consists of a very grand though not extensive ruin of the Donjon, which stands on a platform at

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PUBLIC WALKS.

one extremity of the town, commanding an entire view of the whole, and a prospect over the wide extent of Vaux beneath, unequalled for beauty, richness, and the peculiarity of its features. The ruin itself is very picturesque, being one large high tower cloven by time almost to its base, with a few loop-holes and windows remaining: it is built into the solid rock, of which it seems to form a part, and rises proudly from the fine broad square, planted with three rows of luxuriant trees, and accommodated with seats at intervals, where the inhabitants have a charming promenade, and can enjoy a series of the most splendid views possible. All is neat, clean, and well-arranged; and it is gratifying to remark the effect of recent care and industry where slovenliness and neglect once must have reigned, to judge by the state of the old part of the town, destined shortly, doubtless, to a different fate. From this magnificent elevation you observe, in every situation of the greatest beauty, handsome country-houses belonging to the bourgeoisie, and the owners of the countless mills which fill the extensive valleys, or, as they are here called, Les Vaux de Vire.

Turning off from the Paris road, adorned, as far as the street extends, with fine mansions enclosed in good gardens, you come to the fish