hick, pierced
by twenty-four gates and fortified by about five hundred towers. Much
of the land it enclosed was not built upon; the _marais_ on the north
bank were drained and cultivated for market and fruit gardens.

[Footnote 49: Jeanne de Burgogne, queen of Philip le Long, lived at
the Hotel de Nesle, and is said to have seduced scholars by night into
the tower, had them tied in sacks and flung into the Seine. If we may
believe Villon, this was the queen--

"Qui commanda que Buridan
Fust jette en ung sac en Seine."

Legend adds that the schoolman, made famous by his thesis, that if an
ass were placed equidistant between two bundles of hay of equal
attraction he would die of hunger before he could resolve to eat
either, was saved by his disciples, who placed a barge, loaded with
straw, below the tower to break his fall.]

The moated chateau of the Louvre, another of Philip's great buildings
stood outside the wall, on the site of the old Frankish camp or
_Lower_, and commanded the valley route to Paris. It was at once a
fortress, a treasury, a palace and a prison. Parts of two wings of the
structure are incorporated in the present palace of the Louvre, and
the site of the remaining wings, the massive keep and the towers, are
marked out on the pavement of the quadrangle.

The king erected also (1181-1183) two great warehouses at the old
market at Champeaux: one for the drapers, the other for the weavers,
that the merchants might sell their wares under cover and lock up
their goods at night. They were known as _les Halles_, and the market
ever since has borne that name. Here too Philip caused to be burnt at
the stake the first heretics[50] executed at Paris, sparing the women
and other simple folk who had been misled by the chief sectaries, of
whom one, beyond the reach of earthly penalties and buried in the
cemetery of les Innocents, was finally excommunicated, his bones
exhumed and flung on a dungheap. "_Beni soit le Seigneur en toutes
choses!_" says Pigord the chronicler who tells the story.

[Footnote 50: It should be remembered that heresy was the solvent
antisocial force of the age and was regarded with the same feelings of
abhorrence as anarchist doctrines and propaganda are regarded by
modern statesmen.]

Of the impression that the Paris of Philip Augustus made on a
provincial visitor, we were able, fortunately, to give some account.
"I am at Paris," writes Guy of Bazoches, about the end of the twe