There are no tram-cars or omnibuses passing through its arch, as through the Place du Carrousel, or the courtyards of the Louvre, to take away the sentiment of romance; though the traffic which swirls and eddies around its sturdy piers and walls is of a manifest up-to-date, twentieth-century variety.
Through its great arch runs the Rue du Faubourg St. Denis, where, at No. 109, was the studio of Gabriel Déscamps, celebrated in “Capitaine Pamphile.”
In “Marguerite de Valois” we have a graphic reference—though rather more sentimental than was the author’s wont—to the Cimetière des Innocents:
“On the day which succeeded that terrible massacre of St. Bartholomew’s night, in 1572, a hawthorn-tree,” said Dumas, and it is also recognized history, as well, “which had blossomed in the spring, and which, according to custom, had lost its odorous flower in the month of June, had strangely reblossomed during the night, and the Catholics, who saw in this even a miracle, and who by rendering this miracle popular made the Deity their accomplice, went in procession, cross and banner at their head, to the Cemetery of the Innocents, where this hawthorn was blooming.”
Amidst the cries of “Vive le roi!” “Vive la messe!” “Mort aux Huguenots,” the accomplished Marguerite herself went to witness the phenomenon.
“When they reached the top of the Rue des Prouvelles, they met some men who were dragging a carcass without any head. It was that of ‘the admiral’ (Coligny).... The men were going to hang it by the feet at Montfaucon....”
“They entered the Cemetery of St. Innocents, and the clergy, forewarned of the visit of the king and the queen mother, awaited their Majesties to harangue them.”
The cemetery—or signs of it—have now disappeared, though the mortal victims of the massacre, and countless other souls besides, rest beneath the flagstones adjacent to Les Halles, the great market-house of Paris.
The Fontaine des Innocents formerly marked the site, but now it is removed to the other side of Les Halles.