"Now mark these parsons, sons of ill-got gain, Whose grasping sires for years have stolen amain, Whose family coffers vaster wealth conceal, Than fills that royal store-house, the Bastille." The seventh tower was known as the County tower, owing its name, as M. Bournon conjectures, to the feudal dignity called the County of Paris. "The hypothesis," he adds, "derives the greater weight from the fact that the mayors of Paris were called, up to the end of the _ancien régime_, mayors of the town and viscounty of Paris." The eighth tower bore a name which, for the tower of a prison, is very remarkable. It was called the Tower of Liberty. This odd appellation had come to it from the circumstance that it had been the part of the Bastille where prisoners were lodged who enjoyed exceptionally favourable treatment, those who had the "liberty" of walking during the day in the courtyards of the château. These prisoners were said to be "in the liberty of the court"; the officers of the château called them the "prisoners of the liberty" in contradistinction to the prisoners "in durance"; and that one of the eight towers in which they were lodged was thus, quite naturally, called "the Tower of Liberty." The towers of the Chapel and the Treasure, which were the oldest, had flanked the original gateway, but this was soon walled up, leaving however in the masonry the outline of its arch, and even the statues of saints and crowned princes that had been the only ornaments of its bare walls. "In accordance with custom," says M. Augé de Lassus, "the entrance to the Bastille was single and double at the same time; the gate for vehicles, defended by its drawbridge, was flanked by a smaller gate reserved for foot passengers, and this, too, was only accessible when a small drawbridge was lowered." In the first of the two courtyards of the Bastille, D'Argenson had placed a monumental clock held up by large sculptured figures representing prisoners in chains. The heavy chains fell in graceful curves around the clock-face, as a kind of ornamentation. D'Argenson and his artists had a ferocious taste. On the morrow of the defeat at St. Quentin,[22] the fear of invasion decided Henri II., under the advice of Coligny, to strengthen the Bastille. It was then, accordingly, that there was constructed, in front of the Saint-Antoine gate, the bastion which was at a later date to be adorned with a garden for the prisoners to walk in. Around the massive and forbidding prison, in the course of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, quite a little town sprang up and flourished, as in the Middle Ages happened around lofty and impressive cathedrals. Barbers, cobblers, drink-sellers, poulterers, cheesemongers, and general dealers had their shops there. These new buildings encroached on the Rue Saint-Antoine, and extended as far as the convent of the Visitation, the chapel of which, converted into a Protestant place of worship, still exists.