palatial monument of its time, blotted out the rest when it
disappeared from view.

A forest of spirelets soared aloft from the gables and rooftrees of the
Palais des Tournelles. There was no spectacle of the time more imposing
than this sky-line silhouette of a Paris palace; not at Chambord nor
Chenonceaux was the spectacle more fine. It was like a fairy castle,
albeit that it was in the heart of a great city.

To the right of the Palais des Tournelles, beyond the Porte Saint
Antoine, was the ink-black, frowning donjon of the Bastille, its
severity in strong contrast with the more luxurious palaces of the
princes which surrounded it not far away.

The charming Place des Vosges, which occupies the site of Tournelles
to-day, is another of Paris's breathing spaces. Well may it be called a
royal garden--a park virtually on a diminutive scale--since it was
originally known as the Place Royale, under Henri IV.

With the advent of the gascon Henri de Bearn this delightful little
unspoiled corner of old Paris took on the aspect which it now has.
Within this enclosure were the usual garden or park attributes, more or
less artificially disposed, but making an ideal open-air playground for
the court, shut in from outside surroundings by the outlines of the old
palace walls, and not too far away from the royal palace of the Louvre.

The first and greatest historic souvenir of this garden was a Carrousel
given in 1612, by Marie de Medici, two years after the tragic death of
Henri IV, celebrating the alliance between France and Spain. Under
Richelieu the square became known as the Place des Vosges, and, in spite
of the law against duelling, which had by this time come into force, it
became a celebrated meeting place for duellists like Ivry, the "Grand'
Roue" or the "Vel' Hiver" of to-day.

It was on May 12, 1627, that the Comte des Chappell killed Bussy
d'Amboise on this spot, and left a bloody souvenir, which was only
forgotten by the historians when they had to recount another meeting,
this time between the Catholic Duc de Guise and the Protestant Coligny
d'Andelot.

"Monsieur," said the duke, "we will now proceed to settle that little
account between our illustrious houses," and with that he drew his
sword and killed Coligny, as if he were but stamping the life out of a
caterpillar.

Now, with all this bloody memory behind, the Place became one of the
most elegant residential quarters of the capital, preferred above all