are in the position of the prisoners confined aloft in the tower at
Florence; the hills and valleys are before and around us, but we are not
allowed to see them.[36]

On our road to VIRE, twenty-three miles distant, it is tempting
to make a digression to the town of Domfront (which the reader will see
on the map, a few miles to the south-east); we should do so, to see its
picturesque position, with the ancient castle on the heights, and the
town, as at Falaise, growing round its feet; also an old church at the
foot of the hill, which is considered 'one of the best and purest
specimens of Norman work to be found anywhere.'

But the route we have chosen for description, now turns northward,
passing through a still beautiful land, studded with thatched cottages,
and lighted up with the dazzling white helmets of the women who are busy
in the fields, and in the farms and homesteads. As we approach the town
of Vire, the population has evidently been absorbed into the cloth and
paper mills, for, excepting in the morning and the evening, there are
very few people abroad; we see scarcely any one, save, at regular
intervals on the road, the old cantonniers occupied in their business of
making stone-pies,[37] or a village curé at work in his garden; but we
notice that the houses are neater and better built than those near
Mortain, where grass grows luxuriantly upon them, and the roofs are
covered with coloured mosses.

The situation of Vire is one of extreme beauty (reminding us again of
Switzerland), with hills and valleys richly wooded, the trees being
larger than any we have yet seen on our route. If we had approached Vire
from the west, by way of Villedieu and St. Sever, we should have had
even finer views than by way of Mortain; but Villedieu is at present