Versailles: hobby or obsession?

Have you ever spent a sleepless evening pondering the possibilities of a kitchen renovation? What about the energy you poured into figuring out the views from that family room extension? Or how about the infinitesimal size of that boxwood which couldn’t possibly ever grow large enough to hem in your peonies?

Well, for those of us who worry a bit about our obsessions with our home or garden getting slightly out of hand; Louis XIV’s obsession with Versailles beats our compulsions hands down. He spent more than 55 of his very ripe 77 years building, tearing down, redirecting, adding on, redesigning, decorating, planting and perfecting his masterpiece. When the “Sun King” of France and Navarre wasn’t making love (he seemed to be a champion at this) or making war (successful in his early years, less so as gout, stoicism and boredom set in), he was addicted to decorating, gardening and building. Sound familiar?

As with our desires for perfection, Louis’s obsessions had their springboard.

In August 1661, French Minister Nicolas Fouquet—who was sometimes thought to be the “Man in the Iron Mask”—arranged a glorious fête for his young king. Mr. Fouquet wanted to deeply impress “le beau monde” with his extraordinary chateau, Vaux-le-Vicomte, which he had just completed with lavish gardens and parterres, canals, fountains, sculptures, magnificent murals, tapestries and even stocked with his prize carp.

The grand gala also included a commissioned play by Molière, a ballet by Jean-Baptiste de Lully, an extraordinary fireworks display and enormous papier-mâché whale—lit from inside— which swam up the canal. Illuminated lanterns were hung from every cornice of the chateau and the royal party was provided with open-top carriages once they had stepped out from under Vaux’s impressive dome. In a time when the poor were heavily taxed, starving and without water, Louis’s finance minister had dug canals large enough for small ships to sail in with fountains gushing sprays of water 5 meters high.

According to Ian Thompson’s “The Sun King’s Garden: Louis XIV, Andre le Notre and the Creation of the Gardens of Versailles,” after viewing the magnificent chateau grounds over a mile-long tour, Louis was escorted back to a spectacular dinner of “pheasants, ortolans, quail, partridge, bisques, ragouts and abundant quantities of wine. Food was served on plates of gold. There was a lottery in which jewelry and choice weaponry were given away.”

After Molière’s “Les Fâcheux” was presented, the fireworks began. “A thousand rockets shot out of sight, carrying gunpowder into the heavens, then fell in a thousand blazing figures, fleur-de-lis, stars, and names written in fire,” according to Mr. Thompson’s book (Grucci eat your heart out!). Accompanied by trumpets and drums, the king’s departure was heralded by “a million rockets soaring skywards from the great dome and the whole of the garden became a vault of fire!”

In response to this grand display, according to the history books, the King’s obtuse comment was simply, “I am surprised.” Not even, “Boy, this was some shindig!”

Within three weeks, Mr. Fouquet was arrested, accused of embezzling from the royal treasury and thrown behind bars for the remainder of his life. To this day, Vaux-le-Vicomte represents an extraordinary melding of entrance (magnificent brick and slate stables), house (a perfectly proportioned, soft yellow limestone building) and garden.

Even though there was bad blood between the two men, Louis still recognized the beauty of the chateau. Besides plundering the grounds of its trees, tapestries and carp, he hired the architect Louis Le Vau, the interior decorator Charles Le Brun and the landscape designer André Le Notre to begin immediately at Versailles as no one was to outshine the “Sun King.”

Louis XIV recognized that glory, power, influence and control were not solely the result and jurisdiction of the battlefield. He was also aware of the spell that great beauty, exquisite style, remarkable taste and extraordinary craftsmanship cast over his subjects, his nobles, his ambassadors and his enemies.

Originally, the king’s plans to expand his father’s hunting lodge were less ambitious, but they grew as he yearned to carve out his own escape from the teaming turmoil, subversive plots and stifling rigidity that was Paris.

When he was only a boy of 10, the nobles, the parliament and the population in general were in revolt against his foreign-born mother and her scheming, unscrupulous first minister, Cardinal Jules Mazarin. This civil war, known as the “Fronde,” placed the young boy king—who began rule at age 4—in mortal peril.

Forced to flee Paris for his life under cover of night on numerous occasions, he developed a dislike for Paris that was palpable as he grew older and his desire for balance, control and security became paramount. As a result, Louis’s obsession with carving out an ordered world, one which was entirely of his own creation and submissive to his will alone, was the prime directive of his entire life.

To quote a sappy movie, “If you build it, they will come.” And Louis found that by creating a splendid palace and magnificent gardens, he could lure the court away from Paris.

The glittering world of Versailles dazzled not only the nobility of France, but also the dignitaries, ambassadors, crown princes and kings from foreign lands. And under the king’s watchful eye, his competitive nobles would deplete their powerful fortunes purchasing clothing, carriages and jewels to keep in style as they vied for his favor by keeping up appearances for each other and their sovereign.

Louis’s grand fêtes required the nobles to buy costumes at great expense, basically keeping everyone so occupied with the silliest of social schedules and elaborate etiquette that there was no time for plotting or treachery. No dummy, he crafted his almighty king-as-deity image carefully at Versailles.

All aspects of the royal “appartements,” including the interiors and the gardens, were ordered and maintained to immaculate perfection. Though he was an undeniably successful warrior king, this was not the image Louis cultivated. Instead, he identified himself through the power of the astonishing palace he built, the power of the culture he created, the power of the gardens he tamed, the fountains he controlled, the spectacles he arranged and the ceremonies he demanded.

In sum, the awe, respect and adulation accorded to Louis XIV was not through might but through the impact of beauty, magnificence and cultivation. To be sure, a high price was paid for this magnificence—thousands of lives were cruelly lost during construction, capricious waste was manifold, the peasants were heavily taxed and left starving, and the treasury was practically bankrupt.

But seen through a 17th century lens, architectural beauty cast a powerful spell as effective as the fear of military aggression. Perhaps seen through the myopic prism of our nascent 21st century, we could learn a lesson.

The lasting influence of Versailles can be seen in countless palace copies throughout Europe, Asia and, of course, America.

The effect of Le Notre’s gardens has made a lasting mark on the great cities of the world. Baron Georges-Eugène Hausman’s plans for Paris were direct copies of Versailles’ system of grids, axes, diagonals and roundabouts. The grand style of Versailles influenced the British Empire planners of Nairobi and New Delhi. And, in the lesser hands of Joseph Stalin, Benito Mussolini and Adolf Hitler, the avenues and monumental statuary were copied as symbols of fascist supremacy.

Though Versailles is ultimately the creation of an absolute monarch, the lessons it visually imparts upon us have been and continue to be invaluable. The most direct influence of the remarkable property on city planning can be seen in our capital city, Washington, D.C. The long avenues, axial geometries, allées and esplanades all radiating from a central source—and designed by Pierre Charles L’Enfant’s inspirations—owe their germination to Le Notre’s gardens.

It might not sound as American as “Remember the Alamo,” but instead think about Versailles the next time you feel you might be veering into design overkill.

Marshall Watson is a nationally recognized interior and furniture designer who lives and works in the Hamptons and New York City. Reach him at 105 West 72nd Street, Suite 9B, New York, NY 10023.