THE VERSAILLES OF LOUIS XV
Louis the Great, in commanding immense and costly edifices to rise out
of the earth, was moved, at least in part, by a desire to assure the
monarchy and its established ceremonial a worthy background. Louis XV,
in the numerous graceful additions to the chateau made by him, sought
only to satisfy his own caprice and convenience.
When the Court returned from Vincennes to Versailles in 1722, seven
years after the death of Louis XIV, one of the new King's first
undertakings was the construction of the Salon of Hercules, adjoining
the chapel court. This splendid hall, which to-day serves as the
entrance to the _grand appartements_, owed its design to Robert de
Cotte. As in the time of Louis XIV and Mansard, marble was chosen as
the main decorative medium. All the sculptural ornaments are in bronze
and marble. The bases of the pilasters are of gilded bronze. Carvings
in wood and stucco were contributed by a Flemish artist named
Verberckt, to whom Louis XV assigned most of the sculptural work done
at the chateau during his reign. It was he that modeled the two doors
placed on either side the bronze and marble chimney-piece, and the
sculptures of the cornice. The painting on the ceiling--the Apotheosis
of Hercules--was first seen by His Majesty as he passed through the
room on his way to mass on a day in September, 1736. He examined it
with much attention (some one has taken the trouble to record), and
demonstrated his satisfaction by forthwith naming Sire Le Moine, the
creator of the work, his chief painter. And thereon hangs a tragic
tale. So great was Le Moine's pride in the honor thus done him that he
determined to bring his work to still higher perfection. He resolved
to finish each detail with the same exactitude as though he were
painting a canvas that was to be observed at close range. But the more
he applied his brush to bring out intricate effects, the less the
design pleased him. In a sudden revulsion for the completed work, he
effaced it and began the entire painting anew. This time he was better
satisfied, though critics attached to the Court esteemed the second
canvas not so good as the one destroyed. Upon the completion of the
decorative scheme, the Sovereign bestowed upon Le Moine 5,000 _livres_
for the _Salon d'Hercule_. Then, to his chagrin, the over-careful
artist discovered that he was out of pocket 24,000 _livres_ by the
transaction. The loss turned his head; seized by grief and
disappointment he committed suicide.
This salon served during the reign of Louis XV as a ball-room, and here
in March, 1749, the Monarch was formally presented with two young
ostriches, brought from Egypt and destined for the Menagerie.
In contrast to the passion for ostentation exhibited by Louis XIV, his
great-grandson and successor was chiefly occupied in finding ways to
evade his gilded prison. When the demand of the Court necessitated his
presence at Versailles, he sought diversion in changing the apartments,
making them over, demolishing here, reconstructing there--expending
vast sums at all times. In 1738, finding the chamber of Louis XIV cold
and inconvenient, he ordered another suite to be arranged for him on
the second floor of the chateau above the Marble Court, and here he
lived at his ease, untrammeled by etiquette and far from the curious
gaze of courtiers. Small living rooms, kitchens, grills and bakeries
were built on the Court of the Stags, and above the private apartments
of Louis XIV rooms were added for the favorites of the King.
The storied Staircase of the Ambassadors, by which ceremonious visitors
were admitted to the presence of the Sun King, was leveled by the whim
of Louis XV. Little mattered it to him that this superb entrance
filled an essential role in the life of the royal residence. Forgetful
of the scenes that had been enacted on the triumphal stair, the
great-grandson of the builder of Versailles commanded the destruction
of one of the noblest architectural works of the time. Its
bas-reliefs, its incomparable marbles, its paintings on which Lebrun
had exercised all the resources of his decorative genius--all
disappeared at the nod of the ambitious Madame de Pompadour, who
desired a theater to be erected on this site. In later years the
theater disappeared to make room for the apartments of the King's fair
daughter, Madame Adelaide.
The project to build another flight of steps ending in the Salon of
Hercules was never carried out. Future guests were therefore admitted
to the reception rooms by a dark, narrow entrance, or they made a long
roundabout tour by way of the Queen's staircase across the Marble
Court. The demolition of the stairway of honor was an irreparable
loss. No other piece of wantonness equaled it in the tumultuous
history of Versailles.
However, there remain in the chateau a number of memorials to the
judgment and good taste of the third master of the chateau, among them,
the exquisitely decorated rooms of the King, re-made on the site of
those dedicated to Louis XIV; the seven rooms of Madame Adelaide, and
the suites set apart for the mistresses that succeeded one another in
the favor of Louis the Fifteenth. These apartments, evolved out of the
confusion of orders and counter-orders, remain to-day as examples of
the pure and elegant decorative styles of the eighteenth century.
Especially admired is the Council Room. Richly adorned, but always in
charming taste, it represents the transition period between the more
severe ornamental art peculiar to the reign of Louis XIV and the warmer
effects beloved by Louis XV. Behind the Council Room were installed,
on the west side of the Court of the Stags, a _cabinet de bains_
(bath-room) and a little room called the Salon of the Wigs. By these
rooms access was gained to the Salon of Apollo.
The billiard-room, where King Louis XIV was wont to play with his
hounds before retiring, became the bed-room of his heir. After the
year 1738, Louis XV occupied this chamber, and here he died thirty-six
years later. It then became the sleeping-room of the ill-starred Louis
XVI--who died in no bed. Locks, door-knobs, chimney ornaments--each
detail in gilded bronze reflected rare taste and workmanship. The bed
stood in an alcove enclosed between two columns, railed in by a
balustrade of elaborate design, and curtained by wonderful tapestries.
Ordinarily the King slept in this room; when he wakened in the morning
he put on a robe and passed through the Council Room to the salon where
the "rising" was celebrated with traditional pomp.
If Louis XV indulged in an orgy of building and repair, it was because
he pined with an _ennui_ that was only relieved by constant diversion.
If at the cost of unnumbered thousands of francs, Madame de Pompadour
urged on her royal lover and contrived new outlets for his craze for
building, it was because she was adroit enough to enliven by this means
an existence that often palled upon him. If, throughout the long
series of decisions and contradictions regarding changes in the
chateau, the Monarch commanded one day that a library and marble bath
be added to the apartments of his daughter, and on another that useful
halls, staircases and offices be removed; if he ordered the
construction of a great Opera House with a facade like a temple, and,
in another mood, made away with insignificant rooms that consumed no
more space than would have filled a remote corner of this great hall of
the theater--the motive was ever the same: to banish for the time-being
the hovering specter of boredom and melancholy. "Louis XV," comments
the author of "France Under Louis XV," "was not a man that sought
relief from ceremony and adulation in any useful work; but, on the
other hand, this dull grandeur was not dear to his heart; he did not
derive from it the majestic satisfaction that it furnished to his
predecessor. From youth to age the King was bored; he wearied of his
throne, his court, himself; he was indifferent to all things, and
unconcerned as to the weal or the woe of his people."
One of the Salons on which he lavished all the art of his epoch was the
reception-room of the royal Adelaide. Here all was carved and gilded
in a manner exquisite beyond words--chimney, doors, ceiling, window
embrasures, mirror frames. Musical instruments were employed as
sculpture _motifs_, for in this room the princess liked to sit and play
her violoncello. In the dining-room, the decorative designs were
delicately carved rosettes, arabesques, garlands of fruits and flowers,
crowns and medallions.
The supreme ruler of Louis XV's affections--the amazing Madame
Dubarry--was lodged "in a suite of delectable boudoirs" facing the
Marble Court, above the private apartments of the King. Everywhere
appeared the initial _L_ linked with the torches of Love. One of the
objects most admired in the drawing-room was an English piano-forte,
with a case adorned with rosewood medallions, blue and white mosaics
and gilded metal. In this room there were chests of drawers of antique
lacquer and ebony, statues of marble, and garnishings of sculptured
bronze. At night all was ablaze with the lights of the great luster of
rock-crystal that hung from the center of the ceiling, and had cost, it
was said, a sum equaling three thousand American dollars. In varying
form, but with equal richness, all the apartments of Dubarry were
beautified at the King's behest.
In January, 1747, the "theater of the little apartments" of the King
was inaugurated by a representation of "_Tartuffe_" with Madame de
Pompadour in the cast. The King frequently permitted himself to be
distracted with music and the play in this hall in the Little Gallery.
Here was an orchestra of twenty-eight musicians, a ballet, and a chorus
of twenty-six, under the direction of Monsieur de Bury, Lully's
successor as master of the Court music. Actors, singers, dancers, all
were supplied with gorgeous costumes, and given the services of Sire
Notrelle, the most celebrated wig-maker in Paris, who had in his day a
prodigious vogue. One of his advertisements announced his ability to
imitate the coiffures of "gods, demons, heroes and shepherds, tritons,
cyclops, naiads and furies." Astounding were the head-dresses of the
actors and actresses that graced the stage of Versailles.
Invitations to a dramatic performance were given by the King himself,
and, for many years, to men guests only. Sometimes the Pompadour
played the comedies of Voltaire, whom she favored against the will of
all the royal family. Occasionally, performances were of necessity
postponed out of respect to a member of the Court that had been slain
in a duel; but not for long did the King and his train pause in their
restless pursuit of pleasure.
A new theater was installed, with more room for auditors, troupe and
musicians. Finally, in 1753, the Opera House was begun according to
designs submitted by Gabriel, first architect to the King. After long
delays the edifice was completed in time for the marriage fetes of the
Dauphin (Louis XVI) and Marie Antoinette, Archduchess of Austria. The
hall of the Opera was so surpassingly fine in its dress of fine
woodwork, green marble and gilding that a writer of the period,
addressing a friend in Paris, where all were discontented with the
Opera House just built in the capital, bade him "come with the crowd of
curious folk to Versailles and admire the magnificent building of the
Court Opera. Besides the beautiful outer view it presents," said he,
"and the splendor of its ensemble, the mechanism of the interior is
amazing." In this imposing auditorium the Court of Louis XVI heard the
operas of Lully and Rameau, the tragedies of Racine and Voltaire. Here
at a banquet in October, 1789, Louis XVI called on his supporters at
Versailles to oppose the Revolution. And a short time later, the hall
of the Opera served as a meeting-place for the insurrectionists.
In 1837, Louis Phillipe, last of the Bourbon kings, restored the
building and redecorated it in red marble. In memory of Louis XIV, the
reigning King commanded his troupe to perform a comedy by Moliere.
Extracts from Meyerbeer's opera, _Robert le Diable_, and a piece
written by Auber concluded the fete organized by this monarch to recall
the golden days of Louis the Superb.
When, in the summer of 1855, Napoleon III entertained Queen Victoria at
Versailles, the supper that terminated a day of brilliant celebrations
was laid in the banquet hall of the Opera. The last theatrical
performance given in this worthy memorial to the building enterprise of
Louis XV was witnessed by Napoleon III, Empress Eugenie, and the King
of Spain.