nder Philippe IV, the conditions regulating the acquisition of the
rights of bourgeoisie were definitely determined. Any free
_colon_--_i.e._, stranger, sojourner--could go before the _prevot_ of
the city with two witnesses, engage himself to contribute to the
finances of the city, and to build or to purchase within the space of a
year a house of the value of, at least, sixty sous parisis; on these
conditions he was recognized as a bourgeois of Paris, and, in
consequence, was obliged to reside within its limits from the day of
Toussaint to that of Saint-Jean, in the summer, or at least to leave his
wife there, or his valet, if he were a bachelor. The population of Paris
was thus composed of the clergy, of the nobility,--of which the king was
the chief,--of the bourgeois or proprietors _roturiers_, of the
colons,--free or still _vilains_,--and of a few serfs of the soil whom
their owners had obstinately refused to emancipate.

One of the strongest grievances which this population had against the
king was his repeated debasements of the royal coinage, and on one of
these occasions their discontent was so menacing that, notwithstanding
he had hastily caused some specie of legal weight and value to be
struck, he left his own palace and sought refuge with the Templars. The
establishment of this order had greatly increased since they had first
found an asylum in Paris under Louis VI; the ancient gate of the tower
of the Temple was demolished as late as 1810. Within their walls was
asylum for all, as in the churches, and the king was none too prompt,
for the angry multitude was soon at the gates. Before these frowning
walls, they hesitated, but a few of the more hardy pushed past the guard
at the portal and penetrated as far as the kitchens. "What do you want
here?" inquired the _maitre-queux_, the chief cook. "To know what is
going on here," replied the boldest of the invaders. "Why, the dinner of
our dear lord, the king." "Where is this dinner?" "Here it is." And he
presented an appetizing dish to his interlocutor, who passed it on to
his comrades, saying: "Here, all of you, it is the King of France who
gives the feast." By this time the alarm had been given, and the
intruders would have paid dearly for their enterprise had not Philippe
ordered that they be allowed to depart unmolested. However, though they
went away very proud of having eaten the king's dinner, a few days later
the bodies of twenty-eight of their number were