library, a French museum for painting and sculpture, and a
natural history exhibition. There were, however, Revolutionaries that
so despised the relics of royalty that they continued to urge from time
to time the complete demolition of the palace and park--chief works of
Louis XIV's reign. The most diligent defenders of the chateau were the
inhabitants of the town of Versailles, who were keenly aware that the
continued existence of the palace would insure a measure of prosperity
to the community. They protested, that, just object of the people's
venom as the edifice was, it nevertheless stood as a monument to the
arts and crafts of France during two centuries. The assailants that
made hideous the days of October fifth and sixth, 1789, had done
comparatively little material damage within the palace precincts. Gun
shots of the Paris mob had disfigured two statues at the main entry to
the courtyard, had destroyed the grill that separated the Royal Court
from the Court of the Ministers; lunges of their bayonets had broken
the mirrors in the Grand Gallery, while pursuing the Guards to massacre
them. Otherwise, the historic walls and gardens bore no evidence of
Revolutionary fury.

After several years of contention, plan and counter-plan, the
Convention definitely saved Versailles for the nation by the decrees of
1794 and 1795. During this epoch of violence and revolt, thousands of
articles were offered for sale at the stables of Versailles, in the
presence of appointed representatives of the people. Linen, utensils,
mirrors, clocks, cabinets, chandeliers, stoves, damask curtains,
carriages, wines of Madeira, Malaga and Corinth, coffee, Sevres
porcelains, engravings, paintings, drawings, and some fine furniture
went for a song at this colossal auction. In 1796 the Minister of
finance ordered that remaining pieces of furniture of great beauty and
value be put on sale. In this way were summarily dispersed chairs of
tapestry and gilt that would to-day command extravagant sums; desks of
exquisite marquetry, at which kingly documents and _billets doux_ had
been penned; dressing-tables whose mirrors had reflected the faces, sad
or gay, frank or subtle, of queens and mistresses; wardrobes that had
held the linens and brocades of princes and courtiers; clocks of gold
and enamel that had registered the hours of portentous births and
marriages. Tables of mosaic and satinwood, cushions of gold brocade,
cameo medallions, porc