ps, and would adjourn to the open space in front of the
Halles. Here, on the top of an octagonal tower, some twenty feet high,
and covered with a conical spire, between the openings of pointed
arches, might be seen criminals with their heads and hands protruding
through the wooden collar of the pillory. The guard of the provost, or
the lieutenant of police, would keep off the noisy throng below, and
the goodwives would discuss among themselves the enormities of the
coin-clipper, the cut-purse, the incendiary, or the unjust dealer, who
were exposed on those occasions for their delinquencies; while the
offenders themselves, would--a few of them--hang down their heads, and
close their eyes in the unsufferable agony of shame; but by far the
greater number would shout forth words of bold defiance or indecent
ribaldry, would protrude the mocking tongue, or spit forth curses with
dire volubility. Then would rise the shouts of _gamins_, then would
come the thick volley of eggs, fish-heads, butcher's-offal, and all
the garbage of the market, aimed unerringly by many a strenuous arm at
the heads of the culprits; and then the soldiers with their
pertuisanes would make quick work among the legs of the retreating
crowd, and the jailers would apply the ready lash to the backs of the
hardened criminals aloft; and thus, the hour's exhibition ended, and
the "king's justice" satisfied, away would the criminals be led, some
on a hurdle to Montfaucon, and there hung on its ample gibbet, amid
the rattling bones of other wretches; some would be hurried back to
the Chastelet, or other prisons; and others would be sent off to work,
chained to the oars of the royal galleys.

This was a common amusement of the idlers of this quarter: but the
passions of the mob, if they needed stronger excitement, had to find a
scene of horrid gratification on the Place de Greve, opposite the
Hotel de Ville, where at rare intervals a heretic would be burnt, a
murderer hung, or a traitor quartered; but this spot of bloody memory
lies far from the Rue St Denis, and we are not now called upon to
reveal its terrible recollections: let us turn back to our good old
street.

One of the most curious objects in it was the Church of the Innocents,
with its adjoining cemetery, once the main place of interment for all
the capital. The church lay at the north-eastern end of what is now
the Marche des Innocents, and against it was erected the fountain
which now adorns the m