time there gradually grew up the present city of twenty thousand
inhabitants; not all of them of courtly manners, as one learns from a
recollection of certain facts of contemporary modern history.

During the days when Mazarin actually held the reins of state the court
was frequently at Saint Germain. Louis XIV was born here, and until
Versailles and Marly came into being he made it his principal dwelling.

It was in one of the magnificent apartments, too, midway between the
angle turrets of the facade, Louis XIII ended his unhappy existence in
1642. His own private band of musicians played a "De Profundis" of his
own composition to waft his soul on its long journey.

The chroniclers describe one of the monarch's last conversations as
follows: "When they transport my body to Paris after my soul has flown,
Laporte, remember that place where the road turns under the hill; it is
a rough road, Laporte, and will surely shake my bones sadly if the
driver does not go slowly."

Those who have journeyed out from Paris to Saint Germain by road in this
later century will appreciate the necessity for the admonition.

Louis XIV, unlike Louis XIII, detested Saint Germain beyond words,
because the towers of the Abbaye de Saint Denis, where he was destined
one day to be buried, were visible from the terrace. Louis XV was not so
particular for he was so morbid that he even loved, as he claimed
himself, the scent of new-made graves.

The arrival of Anne d'Autriche and the royal family at Saint Germain
during the war of the Fronde was one of the most dramatic incidents of
the period. They had travelled half the night, coming from the Palais
Royal only to find a palace awaiting them which was unheated and
unfurnished though the time was mid-January. Always drear and gaunt it
was immeasurably so on this occasion. Mazarin had made no provision for
the queen's arrival; there, were neither beds, tables nor linen in their
proper places, no servants, no attendants of any kind, only the
guardians of the palace. The queen was obliged to take rest from her
fatigue on a folding camp bedstead, without covering of any kind. The
princes fared no better, actually sleeping on the floor.

There were plenty of mirrors and much gold gingerbread on the walls and
ceilings, but no furniture. The personal belongings which the court had
brought with them were few. No one had a change of clothing even; those
worn one day were washed the next. However the qu