november-2010

Nicolas Fouquet, and was outraged to fi nd that a mere subject
possessed such a home. He decreed that his hunting lodge and
lands at Versailles be transformed into a palace and gardens
of unsurpassable magnifi cence, the task entrusted to the
architect and gardeners who had worked on Vaux-le-Vicomte.
But Versailles was a foul-smelling swampland, not at all
suited to the king’s vision of verdant gardens devoted to the
arts. There wasn’t even a natural stretch of water to create
refl ections – an important element in garden design of the
day. Nonetheless, principal gardener André Le Nôtre did not
let the unpromising terrain limit his imagination. Within
months he’d drawn up plans, and squads of gardeners,
labourers and fountain-builders were put to work. Thousands
of tonnes of earth had to be moved, not least in creating the
famous Grand Canal. At one point 36,000 men were on site.
“The king wanted the gardens to symbolise his power and to
show that even Nature had to obey him,” says Baraton.
The results, even four centuries later, are awe-inspiring.
Immediately in front of the palace, formal gardens in the
French style are arranged with mathematical precision to
form a leafy framework within which to show off fountains
and statuary. The smaller châteaux of Grand and Petit
Trianon lie beyond. Further still, among wilder gardens in
the romantic style, is the Normandy-inspired hamlet where
Marie-Antoinette played at being a dairymaid. Today the
estates extend over around 900 hectares.
“In formal gardens in the French tradition the gardener
is an architect. Even the trees don’t have the right to grow,”
explains Baraton. “But in a romantic, English-style garden,
Below: the
cottage built
for Marie-
Antoinette in
her "hamlet"
Ci-dessous :
la chaumière
de Marie-
Antoinette
86 METROPOLITAN
the gardener becomes a poet who creates a vision
of nature with rivers and benches and hidden
nooks – a setting for strolling or romance.
“If you wanted to charm someone
romantically you wouldn’t take them to a formal
French garden like the Tuileries. It’s a corridor.”
Louis XIV was so determined that special
guests would see his gardens in the best possible
play of light and shadow that he composed at least six
different guided walks, dictating step by step how they were
to be viewed. For instance, the tour for Marie-Béatrice d’Este,
second wife of King James II of England, was designed to be
taken on July 19 at 6pm.
Today Le Nôtre, who masterminded many other famous
gardens including Chantilly, remains France’s most
celebrated gardener. At the Tuileries in Paris, as you enter
from the place de la Concorde, a bewigged stone bust of him
can be seen looking out into the gardens.
While visitors from around the world crowd to marvel at
Versailles, its splendours are also a great favourite with the
French. With a twinkle in his eye, Baraton says: “What’s very
amusing is that almost all French people declare themselves
to be republicans and yet the historical monuments they are
most attached to are those which best symbolise royalty.”
Having successfully created a royal residence of unrivalled
opulence, Louis XIV sought to reinforce his infl uence by
harnessing some of the fi nest scientifi c minds of the day.
In 1666 he founded the Académie des Sciences and Versailles
“The French declare
themselves republicans,
yet are most attached to
monuments to royalty”
became a place of learned exchanges. Scientists came to
court as engineers in the army or navy or as tutors to the
princes. This close relationship between academic circles and
the court continued through the reigns of Louis XV and XVI.
A new exhibition, Science and Curiosities at the Court of
Versailles, puts this dynamic under the microscope. Among
the curiosities displayed together for the fi rst time is Louis
XV’s rhinoceros, or rather a stuffed model of the beast which
was shipped in from India and housed in his royal
menagerie, only to meet its end during the Revolution.
From 1784, there’s a remarkable automaton: a lady
dulcimer player who taps out tunes with little hammers (the
mechanism is hidden by her long dress). The Dulcimer Player
was originally presented to Marie-Antoinette. Dating from