20 Travels in France 



appearance if the oaks had not lost their foliage by insects, whose 

 webs hang over the buds. They are but now coming into leaf 

 again. Cross a stream which separates Berri from La Marche; 

 chestnuts appear at the same time; they are spread over all 

 the fields, and yield the food of the poor. A variety of hill and 

 dale, with fine woods, but little signs of population. Lizards for 

 the first time also. There seems a connection relative to climate 

 between the chestnuts and these harmless animals. They are 

 very numerous, and some of them near a foot long. Sleep at 

 La Ville au Brun. — 24 miles. 



5//;. The country improves in beauty greatly; pass a vale, 

 where a causeway stops the water of a small rivulet and swells 

 it into a lake, that forms one feature of a delicious scene. The 

 indented outlines and the swells margined with wood are 

 beautiful; the hills on every side in unison; one now covered 

 with ling the prophetic eye of taste may imagine lawn. Nothing 

 is wanted to render the scene a garden but to clear away 

 rubbish. 



The.-general face of the c_ouritry^for.i6 rnileSj by^far tjieniQSt 

 beautiful I hav^e seen in France ; it is thickly enclosed, and full 

 of wood; the umbrageous foliage of the chestnuts gives the 

 same beautiful verdure to the hills as watered meadows (seen 

 for the first time to-day) to the vales. Distant mountainous 

 ridges form the background, and make the whole interesting. 

 The declivity of country, as we go down to Bassies, offers a 

 beautiful view; and the approach to the town presents a land- 

 scape fancifully grouped of rock, and wood, and water. To 

 Limoge, pass another artificial lake between cultivated hills; 

 beyond are wilder heights, but mixed with pleasant vales; still 

 another lake more beautiful than the former, with a fine accom- 

 paniment of wood ; across a mountain of chestnut copse, which 

 commands a scene of a character different from any I have 

 viewed either in France or England, a great range of hill and dale 

 all covered with forest, and bounded by distant mountains. 

 Not a vestige of any human residence; no village: no house 

 or hut, no smoke to raise the idea of a peopled country; an 

 American scene; wild enough for the tomahawk of the savage. 

 Stop at an execrable auberge, called Maison Rouge, where we 

 intended to sleep; but, on examination, found every appearance 

 so forbidding, and so beggarly an account of a larder, that we 

 passed on to Limoge. The roads through all this country are 

 truly noble, far beyond anything I have seen in France or 

 elsewhere. — 44 miles. 



