added. Henri IV began a gallery to join the new palace to the Louvre, a work accomplished only under Louis XIV. Under Henri’s son, Louis XIII, the Tuileries was the centre of the smart life of the day; visitors of distinction, but not of royal rank, were often entertained in royal style in the pavilion in the garden. Under Louis XIV the King’s renowned garden-planner, Le Nôtre, took in hand the spacious grounds and made of them the Jardin des Tuileries, so famous ever since. The fine statues by Coustou, Perrault, Bosi, etc., were soon set up there. The manège was built—a club and riding-school stretching from what is now the Rue de Rivoli from the then Rue Dauphine, now Rue St-Roch, to Rue Castiglione. There the jeunesse dorée of the day learned to hold in hand their fiery thoroughbreds. The cost of subscription was 4000 francs—£160—a year, a vast sum then. Each member was bound to have his personal servant, duly paid and fed. A swing-bridge was set across the moat on the side of the waste land, soon to become Place Louis XV, now Place de la Concorde.

The Garden was not accessible to the public in those days. Until the outbreak of the Revolution, the noblesse or their privileged associates alone had the right to pace its alleys. Soldiers were never permitted to walk there. Once a year only, a great occasion, its gates were thrown open to the peuple.

A period of neglect followed upon the fine work done under Louis XIV. His successor cared nothing for the Tuileries palace and grounds. They fell into a most lamentable state; and, when in the troublous days of the year 1789, Louis XVI, Marie-Antoinette and their little son took up their abode at the Tuileries, the Dauphin looked round in disgust. “Everything is very ugly here, maman,” he said. It was the Paris home of the unhappy royal family thenceforth until they were led from the shelter of its walls to the Temple prison. It was from the Tuileries they made the unfortunate attempt to fly from France. Stopped at Varennes, the would-be fugitives were led back to the palace across the swing-bridge on the south-western side. Beneath the stately trees of the garden the Swiss Guards were massacred soon afterwards. The Revolutionary authorities had taken possession of the Riding-School, a band of tricolour ribbon was stretched along its frontage and the Assemblée Nationale, which had sat first in the old church, St-Pol, then at the archevêché, installed itself there. There, under successive governments, were decreed the division of France into departments, the suppression of monastic orders, the suspension of the King’s royal power after his flight. And there, in 1792, Louis XVI was tried, and after a sitting lasting thirty-seven hours condemned to death. The Terrace was nicknamed the Jardin National; sometimes it was called the Terre de Coblentz, a sarcastic reference to emigrated nobles who erewhile had disported there. In 1793, potatoes and other vegetables—food for the population of Paris—grew on Le Nôtre’s flower-beds, replacing the gay blossoms of happier times, even as in our own dire war days beans, etc., are grown in the park at Versailles, and the government of the day sat in the Salle des Machines within the Palace walls.

On June 7th, 1794, the Tuileries palace and gardens were the scene of a great Revolutionary fête. A few months later the body of Jean-Jacques Rousseau was laid out in state in the dry bassin before being carried to the Panthéon. Revolutionary fêtes were a great feature of the day, and Robespierre, in the intervals of directing the deadly work of the Guillotine, devised the semi-circular flower-beds surrounded by stone benches for the benefit of the weak and aged who gathered at those merry-makings.

Then it was Napoléon’s turn. The Tuileries became an Imperial palace. For Marie Louise awaiting the birth of the son it was her mission to bear, a subterranean passage was made in order that the Empress might pass unnoticed from the palace to the terrace-walk on the banks of the Seine. The birth took place at the Tuileries, and a year or two later a pavilion was built for the special use of the young “Roi de Rome.” At the Tuileries, in the decisive year 1815, the chiefs of the Armies allied against the Emperor met and camped.

Louis XVIII died there in 1824. In 1848, Louis-Philippe, flying before the people in revolt, made his escape along the hidden passage cut in 1811 for Marie-Louise. The palace was then used as an ambulance for the wounded and for persons who fell fainting in the Paris streets during the tumults of that year. Its last royal master was Napoléon III. The new Emperor set himself at once to restore, beautify and enlarge. The great iron railing and the gates on the side of the Orangery were put up in 1853. A buvette for officers was built in the garden. The Prince Imperial was born at the Tuileries in 1854. During the twenty years of Napoléon’s reign, the Tuileries was the scene of gay, smart life. The crash of 1870 was its doom. The Empress Eugénie fled from its shelter after Sedan. The Commune set fire to its walls. Crumbling arches, blackened pillars remained on the site of the palace until 1883. Then they were razed, cleared away and flower-beds laid out, where grand halls erewhile had stood. The big clock had been saved from destruction. It was placed among the historic souvenirs of the Musée Carnavalet. The Pavillon de Marsan of the Louvre, built by Louis XIV, and the Pavillon de Flore joining the Tuileries, were rebuilt in 1874.

THE PALAIS-ROYAL

Crossing the Rue de Rivoli in the vicinity of the Louvre, we come to another palace—the Palais-Royal—of less ancient origin than the Louvre or the Tuileries, and never, strictly speaking, a royal palace. Built in the earlier years of the seventeenth century by Louis XIII’s powerful statesman, Cardinal Richelieu, it was known until 1643 as the Palais-Cardinal. Richelieu had lived at 20 and 23 of the Place-Royale, now Place des Vosges, and at the mansion known as the Petit Luxembourg, Rue de Vaugirard. The great man determined to erect for himself a more splendid residence, and made choice of the triangular site formed by the Rue des Bons-Enfants, Rue St-Honoré and the city wall of Charles V, whereon to build. Several big mansions encumbered the spot. Richelieu bought them all, had their walls razed, gave the work of construction into the hands of Jacques de Merrier. That was in the year 1629. The central mansion was ready for habitation four years later; additions were made, more hôtels bought and razed during succeeding years. Not content with mere courts and gardens around his palace, the Cardinal acquired yet another mansion, the hôtel Sillery, in order to make upon its site a fine square in front of his sumptuous dwelling. He did not live to see its walls knocked down. A few days after the completion of this purchase the famous statesman lay dead. It was then—a month or two later—that the Palais-Cardinal became the Palais-Royal. By his will, Richelieu bequeathed his palace to his King, Louis XIII, who died a few months later. Anne d’Autriche, mother of the young Louis XIV, was living at the Louvre which, in a continual state of reparation and enlargement, was not a comfortable home. Richelieu’s fine new mansion tempted her. It was truly of royal aspect and dimensions, and was fitted with all “the modern conveniences and comforts” of that day. To quote the words of a versifier of the time: