May Day? May Day!

Under all the architecture, there is a pleasant café.

Mystery Royal Death Cleared Up

Paris:- Monday, 1. May 2000:- Because today is international 'Worker's Day,' I am writing this the night before. I do not want to upset my former union comrades by working on a 'day-off' we have fought for hundreds of years to have for goofing off.

I am very excited about May Day. All week I have been paying extra attention to the TV-weather news. Last Wednesday, it was really gloomy and the evening's long-range prediction was for more of the same.

This continued until the template was changed on Friday - to show glorious sunshine for the whole weekend, plus Monday - which is a holiday on the continent - but not necessarily for the people who do the TV-weather news.

[Insert snooze here.] Now on Monday, after today's parade in glorious weather, I can say with some authority that the weather prediction has been right on the button.

However, my careful advance planning to make this issue's deadline has become unravelled. I always underestimate how long it will take.

For example, for the following item I used a complete five-page magazine article as a basis - because it was written by a major French historian.

Like all magazine pieces, I suspected the editors had their way with it. I started out by writing, 'what, who, where, when, why, how' at the top and went through it to see if it contained all the answers.

It did, but I wasn't happy with some of them. Filling in suspected blanks or missing details required opening two books I have, plus the street map.

One book has an index and even a chart showing where the subject lived in relation to all his - relations. The other book had a lot of text on the subject; some of it out of date and some of it wrong.

Before I started it I knew it would take a long time, and it did. The magazine piece had a modern thrust to it - how awful to treat such a young kid as this one was treated. I agree with it.

The 'why' of it is its weak point. Either there was no 'why' and it was plain evil, or the 'why' has been left out by the historian. If the latter, I would like to know the 'why' has been left out.

Monseigneur Le Duc Louis-Charles de Normandie was born at Versailles on Sunday, 27. March 1785 at 18:45. He died, with the civil name of Capet fils, on Monday, 8. June 1795.

From Monday, 22. January 1793, about 9:00 - after being acknowledged as King of France by his mother Queen Marie-Antoinette, his sister Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte and Louis XVI's sister Madame Elizabeth et Cléry - Louis-Charles was Louis XVII, until his death 39 months later at the age of 10.

Louis-Charles came into line for the throne in June of 1789 when his older brother died of tuberculosis. On 6. October of the same year, the royal family was taken from their home at Versailles and installed in the Château des Tuileries.

In June of 1791, Louis XVI fled with his family in the direction of Germany, but was turned back at Varennes and returned to Paris. On 20. June 1793 a mob attacked the Château de Tuileries, and again 10. August. Three days later the royal family arrived at the Temple dungeon - which was a 50-metre high tower, built in the middle ages.

At first Louis-Charles shared a room on the second floor with his father, while his mother and the others were lodged on the third floor. On 11. December, Louis-Charles was moved upstairs.

At 22:00 on 3. July 1973, Louis-Charles was separated from his mother and reinstalled on the tower's second floor; guarded by a couple named Simon. They did not treat him badly and his sister remembered hearing him sing the 'Marseillaise.'

On 19. January 1794, Simon quit the job and he and his wife left the Temple prison. From then on, Louis-Charles was alone - without heat, without anything; in total isolation. Every night at 10, a municipal watchman came by and yelled at Louis-Charles to wake up.

Nobody came to see him until a month after Robespierre fell nder the blade on 27. July 1794. Then, although better treated, Louis-Charles had been neglected too long to recover.