Young und Okey - 1915 - Travels in France and Italy during the years 1787,

Travels in France and Italy/21
this country highly improvable, if they knew what to do with it; the
property, perhaps, of some of those glittering beings who figured in the
procession the other day at Versailles. Heaven grant me patience while I
see a country thus neglected—and forgive me the oaths I swear at the
absence and ignorance of the possessors.—Enter the generality of
Bourges, and soon after a forest of oak belonging to the Count d’Artois;
the trees are dying at top, before they attain any size. There the miserable
Sologne ends; the first view of Verson and its vicinity is fine. A
noble vale spreads at your feet, through which the river Cheere leads,
seen in several places to the distance of some leagues, a bright sun burnished
the water, like a string of lakes amidst the shade of a vast woodland.
See Bourges to the left.—18 miles.
2nd. Pass the rivers Cheere and Lave; the bridges well built; the
stream fine, and with the wood, buildings, boats, and adjoining hills,
form an animated scene. Several new houses, and buildings of good
stone in Verson; the place appears thriving, and doubtless owes much to
the navigation. We are now in Berri, a province governed by a provincial
assembly, consequently the roads good, and made without corvées.
Vatan is a little town that subsists chiefly by spinning. We drank there
excellent Sancere wine, of a deep colour, rich flavour, and good body,
20 sous the bottle; but in the country 10. An extensive prospect before
we arrived at Chateauroux where we viewed the manufactures.—40
miles.
3rd. Within about three miles of Argenton come upon a fine scene,
beautiful, yet with bold features; a narrow vale bounded . on every side
with hills covered with wood, all of which are immediately under the
eye, without a level acre, except the bottom of the vale, through which a
river flows, by an old castle picturesquely situated to the right; and to
the left, a tower rising out of a wood.
At Argenton, walk up a rock that hangs almost over the town. It is
a delicious scene. A natural ledge of perpendicular rock pushes forward
abruptly over the vale, which is half a mile broad, and two or three long:
at one end closed by hills, and at the other filled by the town with vineyards
rising above it; the surrounding scene that hems in the vale is high
enough for relief; vineyards, rocks, or hills covered with wood. The vale
cut into enclosures of a lovely verdure, and a fine river winds through it,
with an outline that leaves nothing to wish. The venerable fragments of
a castle’s ruins, near the point of view, are well adapted to awaken
reflections on the triumph of the arts of peace over the barbarous rav-