FLORA'S PARTY. LADY FLORA gave cards for a party at tea, So from town and from country they thronged at the call, With the Hyacinths, bright as the eye of the day; With their dazzling new vests, and their corsets laced tight; So the beaux thronged around them, they scarcely knew why, Till her auditors yawned, or stole softly away. And her husband, the Lilac, ne'er moved from her side. They never attended a rout in their life, Where a city-bred man ever spoke to his wife." With the Ice-Plant, new spangled from forehead to feet; And the Dahlias, with trimmings new furnished and dyed, Of the loves of Sweet William and Lily the prude, IIad taken a cold, and 'twas out of her power;" Till sufficiently urged, they broke forth in a strain Of quavers and trills that astonished the train. Mimosa sat trembling, and said, with a sigh, "'Twas so fine, she was ready with rapture to die." And Cactus, the grammar-school tutor, declared, "It might be with the gamut of Orpheus compared ;" Then moved himself round in a comical way, To show how the trees once had frisked at the lay. Yet Nightshade, the metaphysician, complained, That the nerves of his ears were excessively pained: "Twas but seldom he crept from the college," he said, "And he wished himself safe in his study or bed." There were pictures, whose splendour illumined the place, She had dipped her free pencil in Nature's pure dyes, The Carnation her eye-glass drew forth from her waist, Of the Louvre recited a wonderful tale, And said "Guido's rich tints made dame Nature turn pale." His opinion, that "all Nature's colouring was bad; To visit his uncle Gentiana, who chose So she pursed up her mouth, and said tartly, with scorn, MRS. SIGOURNEY. SKETCHES OF NEW SOUTH WALES. XX. DESCRIPTION OF COUNTRY IN THE COUNTY OF CAMDEN To the north-west of the Cow-Pasture district are the tremendous valleys of Burragorang, through which the Wollondilly River flows, as mentioned in a former paper. The flats on the banks of the river are very fertile, and inhabited by small settlers, who are, as it were, (considering the difficulty of descent into the vale, which is impracticable for a horse that is laden,) shut out from the world. The scenery is remarkably striking and grand, and the bold masses of rock which wall in on every side this romantic gulf of the mountains, as they glitter in the sun with varied hues, render the scenery quite enchanting. I This place used to be a haunt for runaway prisoners, termed Bushrangers, where they have remained in security for a long time together, probably living with, and assisting the settlers in their labours. The South Road, after crossing the Razor-back Mountain, descends into the settlement of Stonequarry Creek. There are two or three very good farms in this neighbourhood on either side of the road, and the scenery is sequestered and pleasing. Rich grassy valleys, enclosed by picturesque wooded ridges, which shoot out and terminate in sharp and narrow tongues, open into wide flats, which are partially cultivated. A magistrate is stationed here, and a court held, once or twice every week, and there are huts and cottages scattered about, the habitations of settlers holding small farms, of veteran soldiers, constables, and workmen, and it may be, hereafter, that this place may become the seat of a very respectable inland town. A bush road to Burragorang leaves the Stone-quarry Creek, which after passing the adjoining farms, enters an unbroken forest the whole way. The creek itself, immediately below the bridge, dips into a deep rocky ravine, and, taking an easterly course for a mile or more, joins the Burgo River. About four miles southward from the Stonequarry Creek, the main-road crosses Myrtle Creek, so called, from that species of shrub predominating on its banks. The wild myrtle of New South Wales is very fragrant, and frequently grows in such thick masses as to form an impenetrable underwood. Its foliage is not dissimilar in appearance to the English myrtle, and equally luxuriant. This creek also joins the Burgo River about a mile and a half to the eastward. The South road then continues for a few miles through an iron-bark forest, over level ground, when it crosses a main branch of the Burgo River. Nothing can exceed the dreariness of the country through which the road now passes for several miles, until it descends into the Mittagong Flats. The trunks of the trees are, for the most part, perfectly black, from various conflagrations, the soil destitute of grass, and in many places so rotten, that both horses and cattle can only travel with great difficulty off the road, and the ground is strewed with the trunks and branches of rotten, decayed trees. The new road through it is good, and the tediousness of the journey considerably lessened. The whole country eastward, for a distance of more than twenty miles, as far as the mountain coast-range of the Illawarra county, is of a similar character, and intersected by the narrow ravines of the various branches of the Burgo River, which are several hundred feet in almost perpendicular falls. On the west side of this road, where it descends from a high range into the Mittagong Flats, and at about the distance of twelve miles in a westerly direction, is "Mount Jellore," an excellent point in the trigonometrical survey. It is situated on the confines of a very mountainous and broken country, and rises in a cone above the level of the surrounding scenery-high, conspicuous, and alone. It is distinctly seen from any elevation near and about Sydney, from almost every height of the Blue Mountains, and can be distinguished, on a clear day, from a mountain to the northward, called "Warawolong" which is more than ninety miles in a direct line, without the aid of a telescope. The view from this commanding station, though so boundless in extent, is nevertheless monotonous in a great degree. Whichever way the eye extends itself, nought is seen but wood-wood-wood! The dark and murky colours of perpetual forests which, according to the distances, become alternately gray and blue, until the far outline is indistinct, gradually fades away from view, and is wholly lost. The North Headland of Sydney, and the bold range of coast to the southward of it, appear very distinct, and the country immediately to the west and north of this mountain, being of the wildest character, the scenery of the front-ground is of a melancholy grandeur. You look down and gaze upon the dark gloomy cavities of the neighbouring mountains, and can trace their deep intersections; overhanging rocks falling perpendicularly into impenetrable hollows, until they are lost in the mist of the depth, declare the sweeping violence of a deluge, or the effect of some terrible convulsion. After descending the range into the Mittagong Flats, the country assumes a different aspect; open forestland, and the freshness of verdure, again relieves the traveller, and about two miles onward, the road passes Cutler's Inn. Several additional buildings, a large wind-mill built by Mr. Cutler himself, and one or two small farms have recently been established in the neighbourhood. When we were encamped in the neighbourhood, the woods abounded with pigeons and parrots, and kangaroos were also numerous. Our sketch gives the general idea of the style of building of the better sort of road-side inns in the interior of the country, and the residences of many private indi| viduals have adopted a similar mode of construction. This Immediately after leaving this inn, the traveller ascends the Mittagong Range, a difficult ascent for | vehicles, especially in wet weather. The road winds round the western termination of the range, which in many places is very stony, and slopes in awkward undulations. It possesses a rich whinstone soil, is clothed with grass, and rather thinly timbered. range, which is of considerable elevation, extends eastward for the distance of about twenty miles, until it connects with the Illawara Coast Range. There is a bush-road leading to the coast from this neighbourhood, which, after passing the land, enters a most dreary tract until it reaches the coast cliff, where a magnificent view of the boundless ocean and bold extended coast-line, opens upon, and surprises, the wearied traveller. After crossing the Mittagong Range, the main road descends into a swamp, and continues through level forest-lands to Bong Bong, which is about eleven miles from Cutler's Inn. Here there has been formed for some years a township, and a few houses scattered here and there give the place the appearance of a village. The forest-trees are widely scattered, rich verdure clothes the ground, and many of the flats are pretty and sequestered. A new township was laid out in 1832, about three miles to the westward of Bong Bong, and is called "Berrima." This spot is rather peculiarly situated, and when I visited it for the purpose of laying out the form of the streets, the place wore a melancholy aspect. The land around is barren and stony, and the bush black and gloomy. The river Wingeecarrabee winds with a long and acute bend around the point fixed upon for the site of the town, through the centre of which the new southern road passes. The bed and banks of the river here are rocky, and likely to afford excellent material for building. A space of ground was allotted for religious purposes on a small rounded hill, and, it may be, that this once-dreary spot now boasts a clergyman with his chapel, government buildings with their officers, that a retailer has erected his shop, and that necessary evil, the publican, his sign and place of accommodation, while labourers and handicraftmen, so useful in the first establishing an interior township, have their separate huts and worksheds. This new road avoids many steep and difficult places, which are so frequent on the old road; it is laid out in the best possible line, and under the direction of scientific men. A good line of road to the rich extent of fine country which lies to the southward, and which is so likely to increase in population, must be considered indispensably necessary, where the means of water carriage is utterly impossible. 66 The river Wingeecarrabee, after leaving the township of Berrima, soon dips into the mountainous country which characterizes the course of the Wollondilly after its junction with the Cookbundoon river, and after a very tortuous course, through high, narrow, and precipitous tongues of land, which, as it were, dovetail" into one another in an extraordinary manner, unites with the Wollondilly near the Guineaur creek. The old road from Bong Bong continues for about eleven miles through a good forest country, which has been, in many places, farmed by settlers, and after passing a barren tract of stony ridges of about ten miles in extent, crosses the Wringalla, or Paddy's river, which unites with the Wollondilly about two miles from the crossing place. From Paddy's river the road passes several fine tracts of forest-country, which are all occupied and taken up; and it keeps near to, and often parallel with, the Wollondilly, which it occasionally crosses, until it enters Mulwaree Plains. The scenery on this latter portion of road is varied and beautiful, and the river winding under a high mass of mountain-range, frequently breaks in upon the view with fine effect, and this is the more striking, as during the whole distance from Sydney, which may be about 150 miles, the traveller is not cheered with the sight of refreshing water, except when in the act of crossing the streams already mentioned. The country both north and south of the Shoal Haven river, is intersected by tremendous gullies, which, from their precipitous and rocky nature, cannot be crossed, and are wild beyond conception. The Illawarra country by the seacoast bears all the appearance of tropical scenery, and it is chiefly remarkable in the richness of the soil and vegetation. Here the cedar and cabbage-trees flourish in the greatest luxuriance. The difficulty of travelling through these woods before roads and paths were cut can scarcely be conceived. The innumerable climbing plants which twist together like ropes, and run in all directions among the thick underwood, and rise to the tops of the highest trees, shut out the rays of the sun; nor can these be set aside by merely pushing on, but they can only be cleared, with immense labour, by means of the axe. Besides these obstructions, a species of broad grass, whose edges are very sharp, covers the ground in many places, and forms often an impenetrable jungle. The value of the fire-timber, however, which abounds upon these rich flats, and the very productive nature of the soil, makes up for the expense and difficulty of clearing the land, and there are now several excellent farms in this district. The want of a good harbour for small vessels on this coast has been a great drawback to the interest of the settlement, and it would be impossible to state what the value of these lands would be, if the coast afforded but a tolerable shelter for small trading vessels, as it has been found impracticable, from the formation of the country, to lay out a good line of road into it. W. R. G. LONDON: Published by JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND; and sold by all Booksellers. E CASTLE OF CARCASSONNE, LANGUEDOC. CRUSADE AGAINST THE ALBIGENSES-CRUELTIES OF THE POPE'S LEGATE AT CARCASSONNE. CARCASSONNE, or Carcassone, is a town in the south of France, situated in the department of Aude, and on the banks of the river which gives name to the department. It lies due south from Paris, at the distance of about 390 miles in a direct line, or nearly | 500 by the road. It is a place of great antiquity, having existed before the campaigns of Cæsar, who speaks of it as one of the towns existing in Gallia Ulterior. It is mentioned more than once by the Roman writers of a later age. On the downfall of the empire it passed successively into the hands of the Visigoths, the Saracens, and the Franks; and under the rule of the last it was subject to counts of its own, who established themselves in this part of VOL. XI. France, and transmitted their authority to their heirs. It came into direct possession of the crown of France about the middle of the thirteenth century, being then ceded by its count to Louis the Ninth, or St. Louis, who reigned as king of France from 1226 to 1270. Carcassonne stands on both banks of the river Aude, though the two parts into which the river divides it may be considered as almost perfectly distinct. On the right bank is the old town, or cité, half deserted; it is surrounded by walls, the appearance of which sufficiently denotes their antiquity, and composed of narrow, dirty streets. It contains a fine ruined castle and a cathedral; the latter was erected about the end of the eleventh century, and is a handsome building, containing some stained-glass windows, worthy of attention, and the tower of the 333 The Simon de Monfort, of whose share in the crusade | the city, and confer with Raymond Roger. monarch did so; Raymond Roger, after expressing If you wish to arrange for me any adjustment, in the form and manner which shall appear to you fitting, I will accept that we cannot maintain ourselves in this city, on account and ratify it without any contradiction; for I see clearly, In the approach to Carcassonne, the old town stands out conspicuous above the lower and more modern portion. "We saw it," says Mrs. Carey, “at some distance, apparently on a hill, with bastions, towers, and all the pomp and circumstance of war' around it; but on our near approach we found its occupation o'er;' for passing under its deserted walls, we crossed a bridge over the river Aude, and entered a very good town, with wide, handsome, clean streets." Cascassonne is memorable in an historical point of view, for its share in the crusade, which was carried on in the early part of the thirteenth century, against the Albigenses, in the south of France, and of which, in former numbers, we have given an account up to the middle of the year 1209, when the massacre of Béziers took place. The terror which that event produced throughout the surrounding country, caused the other towns and strong places to be deserted; none appeared capable of withstanding an army which had taken and destroyed the capital, and the inhabitants preferred secreting themselves in the woods and mountains, to waiting within walls to be captured and put to death. Every knight in France then lived in a fortified dwelling, and the number of castles in the two dioceses of Béziers and Carcassonne was immense, but upwards of a hundred of them were found to be deserted on the advance of the Crusaders, who, after their successes at Béziers, had turned their arms towards Carcassonne, the other great city of Raymond Roger, the young Viscount of Alby, with whom they were at war, and that one in which he had himself taken up his abode on the first invasion of his territory. The Crusaders advanced, "unsatiated with blood," and arrived on the 1st of August before Carcassonne, which then consisted entirely of the "old town," as it is now called, on the right bank of the Aude; its fortifications had been strengthened, and it was defended by a numerous and valiant garrison. On the following day, one of the two suburbs, which were also encircled with walls and ditches, was attacked, and taken after a severe fight of two hours' continuance; but the assault of the second immediately afterwards, was not so successful, the assailants being repulsed with loss. The besieged defended it for several days; they then evacuated it, after having set it on fire, and retired within the city. King Peter the Second, of Aragon, whom the Viscount of Béziers had acknowledged as his lord, was grieved to behold the oppression of that prince, who was, moreover, his nephew. He came to the camp of the Crusaders, addressed himself to the Count of Toulouse, his brother-in-law, who was one of those lords compelled to follow and second the enemies of his country; and he offered himself as mediator between the legate and his partisans on one side, and the viscount on the other. Before they entered on any conditions, the abbot Arnold of Citeaux, (the legate,) wishing to obtain some information as to the state of the besieged, engaged the King of Aragon to enter of the multitude of countrymen, women, and children, who have taken refuge here. We cannot reckon them, and they die every day in great numbers. But were there only myself and my people here, I swear to you, that I would rather die of famine, than surrender to the legate. The legate, on his part, had no wish to see the town peaceably surrender; he had not dared to reject the offer of the King of Aragon to bring about an accommodation, "yet he wished not to have a peace which should suspend the massacres." He, therefore, took care that such proposals only should be made, as were sure to be rejected, and caused the viscount to be informed, that the only terms which could be granted him, were, that he might quit the city with twelve others, and that the remainder of the citizens and soldiers should be abandoned to his good pleasure. "Rather than do what the legate demands of me," replied Raymond Roger, "I would suffer myself to be flayed alive. He shall not have the least of my company at his mercy, for it is on my account they are in danger." Peter the Second approved the generosity of his nephew, and turning towards the knights and citizens of Carcassonne, to whom these conditions had been announced, he said to them, "You now know what you have to expect; mind and defend yourselves well, for he who defends himself, always finds good merey at last.” As soon as the King of Aragon had taken his departure, the assault was commenced; the Crusaders sought to fill up the ditches that they might be enabled to scale the walls, and for that purpose brought up heaps of fagots, encouraging one another in the task with loud shouting. But as soon as they approached the walls, the besieged poured upon them streams of boiling water and oil, crushed them with stones and projectiles of every kind, and forced them to retire. The attack was prolonged, and many times renewed; and at last the assailants were obliged to retreat with great loss. The time was now approaching when the greater part of the Crusaders would have finished their forty days' service; "they had reckoned upon a miracle in their favour, and already had been repulsed in two assaults." The legate remarked in his army some symptoms of discouragement; he therefore employed a gentleman related to the viscount, who happened to be with him, to enter into the city and renew the negotiations. Raymond Roger, on his side, greatly desired an honourable capitulation, for he began to perceive the failure of water in the cisterns of the city, which the extreme heat of the season had tended to dry up. He was so fully satisfied of the rectitude of his proceedings, that he could not but believe, that when the injustice of which he had been the victim should be known, it would excite the commiseration of the great lords and the ecclesiastics, whom blind and bigoted zeal for the church had armed against him. He persuaded himself, that if he could gain a hearing, he should be able to remove all the difficulties which he had hitherto encountered; and he only asked the mediator who presented himself, to procure him a safe conduct, that he might repair to the camp of the Crusaders. He obtained, both from the legate and lords of the army, the most complete guarantee for his safety and liberty, and the promise of the Crusaders was confirmed by oaths. He then quitted the city, attended by three hundred knights, and pre |