of the monarchy.  In the words of Madame Scudery, an annalist of that epoch, Versailles, under the new orders of the King, became “incomparably more beautiful.”  Another Versailles was born; at the same time there was created a town on the vast acres purchased by the King, in the midst of which three great avenues were built, converging toward the chateau.  In addition to the enlargement and improvement of the palace, the King ordered the erection of houses for the use of Colbert, now superintendent of the royal buildings, and for the officers of the Chancellery.  From this time he interested himself particularly in the advancement of the infant town; he bought the village of “Old Versailles” and made liberal grants of land to individuals who agreed to build houses there.  Opposite the chateau arose the mansions of illustrious nobles of the Court.

As the King remained obstinate in his determination that the “little chateau” of his father should not be removed to make room for a structure more in harmony with the surrounding ostentation, Le Vau covered over the moats and built around the lodge of Louis XIII with imposing effect.  The new buildings containing the state apartments of the King and Queen and public salons were separated by great courts from the insignificant beginning of all this mounting splendor.  Le Vau did not live to see the completion of the palace.  He died in 1670.  The work of reconstruction, in which the King maintained a lively interest whether at home or abroad, was continued by the architect’s pupils at a cost of thousands of pounds.  Eagerly Louis read plans and listened to reports.  With still greater interest he attended the proposals of the great Mansard—­nephew of the designer and builder who in 1650 revived the use of the “Mansard roof.”  When he succeeded as “first architect,” Jules Mansard (or Mansart) first undertook the erection of quarters for the Bourbon princes.  In the same year (1679) that he began the immense south wing for their use, he gave instructions for the building of the now historic Hall of Mirrors between two pavilions named—­most appropriately in the light of after events—­the Salon of Peace and the Salon of War.  From the high arched windows of this glittering Grand Gallery great personages of past and present epochs have surveyed the gardens, fountains and broad walks that are the crowning glory of Versailles.

In the time of the Grand Monarque more than a thousand jets of water cast their silver spray against the greenery of hedge and grove.  “Nothing is more surprising,” said a chronicler of Louis the Fourteenth’s reign, “than the immense quantity of water thrown up by the fountains when they all play together at the promenades of the King.  These jets are capable of using up a river.”  A writer of our day bids us pause for a moment at the viewpoint in the gardens most admired by the King—­at the end of the Allee of Latona.  “To the east, beyond the brilliant parterre of Latona, with