ticular. To those who have been there the name must, I
think, always bring with it an imperishable recollection. Carcassonne is
one of the unique places of the world. Years ago--as far back as the
Romans, probably much further--there was a fortress on this hill, which
commanded one of the chief roads into Spain. Afterwards it was used by
the Visigoths, and in the Middle Ages it reached its highest importance
under St. Louis. Then gradually it sank again into insignificance, and
early last century there was a proposal that the ruins should be
destroyed. By this time hardly anyone lived in the old city on the hill,
a new and flourishing modern town (laid out in parallelograms) having
sprung up in the plain. The demolition of the ancient ruins was
prevented by one Cros-Mayrevieille, a native of Carcassonne, who
succeeded in whipping up such enthusiasm on behalf of his birthplace
that the city was made into a _monument historique_, and money was
granted for its complete reconstruction by Viollet le Duc. A large sum
has been spent, great works have been carried out, and the result is one
of the most extraordinary feats of restoration in the history of the
world.

From afar off this city upon a hill makes a vivid appeal to the
imagination. Its great assemblage of towers, walls, and battlements,
rising clear-cut and majestic against the sky, suggests at the first
glimpse one of those imaginary mediaeval cities that Dore loved to draw
as illustrations to the _Contes Drolatiques_. So extraordinary is the
apparition of this ancient, silent, fortified city existing in the midst
of the railway epoch that one is tempted to think it a mirage, some
strange trick of the senses, which, on rubbing the eyes, must disappear.
And the nearer one draws, the more vivid does this impression become.
Everything perfect, marvellously perfect, yet with no jarring hint of
newness. It is well-nigh impossible at any time to tell where the
original structure ends and where Viollet le Duc's restoration begins,
and on what a grand scale it all is.

By moonlight the effect was really glorious. My Goddess and I walked
over a drawbridge and entered the silent, grass-grown streets of the
old, old city, where quaint and ancient houses, given up now to the
poor, huddle under the protecting walls of the great fortress. We were
in a perfect mediaeval city, just as it existed in the time of the
Crusades. In thus exactly realising the life of a garrisoned fortres