All of a sudden as you approach those scattered houses which always foretell a city, the road takes a sudden turn to the right, and falls, as it were, into the midst of the city by the Rue des Réligieuses.
This descent ends at the Place de Latry.
That Place is, or rather was at the time of which I am writing, entirely blocked for two-thirds of its length by the Church of St. Gengoulf, the side of which touched the right side of the Place (I speak of the right side with reference to Paris), and the façades of which overlooked a cemetery, which, stretching from the side of the Rue de l’Horloge, left a passage of about thirty yards open to the sky.
Another passage, intended for carriages, was formed, but on account of an arch stretching over it, it was impossible for vehicles loaded too high to pass underneath.
Emerging from under that arch, one stood facing, five or six paces off, the Rue de la Basse Cour. On entering, you could see on the right of him the “Hotel du Bras d’Or.”
A little further on to the left stood the house of M. Sauce, Procureur de la Commune.
I have already said that his house was only separated from M. Gerbaut’s by a passage.
The Rue de la Basse Cour descends rapidly to a little Place, where it joins the Rue Neuve and the Rue St. John.
A little running stream of rather deep but clear water, over a pebbly bottom, intersects the Place. A bridge, narrower than the one you would find there to-day, joins the two parts of the town—that is to say, the High and Low Town. The bridge crossed, and the corner of the “Grand Monarque” rounded, you find yourself in the Grand Place.