e so far as its interior appointments were concerned,
though in all ways appealing when viewed from without. Considerable
repairs and embellishments were made, but warring factions did much to
make difficult any real artistic progress.

With the advent of Louis XVI there came a contrast to gayety and freedom
from care in royal hearts and heads. On October 5 Louis XVI and the
royal family hid themselves behind barred doors, the convention taking
up its sittings under the same roof and forthwith passing an act which
allowed the completion of the palace according to the plans of Vignon at
an expense of three hundred thousand _livres_. An almost entire
transformation took place, the money being seemingly well spent, and the
structure now first took its proper place among the monumental art
treasures of the capital.

A dramatic incident took place at the great gate of the Tuileries, which
faced the courtyard, when, on May 28, 1795, the populace surged in waves
against its sturdy barrier. The Deputy Feraud met them at the steps.
"You may enter only over my dead body," he said. No reply was made but
to crack his skull, behead the trunk and carry the head aloft on a pike
to the very Tribune where Boissy d'Anglas was presiding.

The Salle de Spectacle of the Tuileries was, even at this period, the
largest auditorium of its kind in Europe, having eight thousand stalls
and boxes, which gave a seating capacity of considerably more than that
number of persons.

In 1793 this playhouse, of which the parquet occupied the ground floor
of the Pavillon de Marsan, underwent a strange metamorphosis when it
became the legislative hall for the National Convention. All the names
and emblems showing forth in its decorations and indicative of its
ancient rule were changed into Republican devices and symbols. The
Pavillon de Marsan was called the Pavillon de l'Egalite, the Pavillon du
Centre became the Pavillon de l'Unite and the Pavillon de Flore the
Pavillon de la Liberte, where was lodged the Committee of Public
Safety.

The Hall of the Convention, according to reports of the time, was an
appalling mixture of grandeur and effeminacy with respect to its
architectural lines. Surrounding that portion where the legislators
actually sat was the great amphitheatre which for three years was
occupied by a curious, vociferous public, more demonstrative, even, than
those that had attended the former theatrical representations in the
same apartment