Fontainebleau

The “fountain of the belle eau” was the retreat of kings for about 800 years.

And I just learned, showcased the beginning of the modern age in France. Two rulers of France left their mark on the Château, King François I in the 1500s and Napoléon Bonaparte in the early 1800s. I have not been used to thinking of the Renaissance as the beginning of modern times, but since I started linking history with banking, I see why it is referred to that way. It was really the birth of, or rebirth of, a new power: the power to make a symbol (money) into wealth, and make wealth grow itself as if it were alive. François the First wanted in. He left symbols and allegories in all of his additions to the castle, some of which I’ve seen on Tarot cards. The Fire Salamander; the Caduceus. And it is no wonder this power has always had an air of magic to it. It is really just a trick, and by hiding this trick, the moneyed elite make it seem occult, which just means “hidden.” Hidden because a debt-based economy is a nasty trick indeed.

Yes here I am in France, jumping into the history of power and the corruption of kings, and how it might be of a piece with our times. Yesterday was my first full day here, having driven to Fontainebleau straight from landing in Paris the day before. I wanted to see how the Château de Fontainebleau compared to Versailles, so got a hotel right across the street. The town of Fontainebleau comes right up to the gates, which feels a bit strange, but it turns out the original entrance was on another side. This entrance, our featured photo, shows both the Italianate Renaissance staircase added by King Francis I in the 1500s, and the gates added in the 1800s by Napoléon, hence the ‘N’. The whole place is like that, bits and pieces from different kings found mixed up in the well over 1000 rooms. The oldest room is from the 1100s, but was redecorated by the last King of France, Louis-Philippe, to show the continuity of the long line of 30-plus rulers who made this their abode. This equals authority to some people; I’d prefer accountability as the test, but nobody asks me.

Then, after this place had been around for about 400 years, François I, winning a battle in Italy, saw some incredible art, purchased by all the money that the Medici and other Florentine bankers were piling up from their financial games. He wanted some of that for France, which was stupidly rich in land, waters, and climate, but not cash. To pay for the best, such as Leonardo da Vinci, he made a deal with the Pope, and started borrowing a lot of money. He was then able to persuade many Italian artists and artisans to come up and redo his favorite hunting retreat. All the guides here, and materials I read, only talk about the Renaissance art he brought to France (thus starting the French Renaissance), but all that art was only made possible by all that new money. The history sources don’t seem to mention from whom he got it, but this synagogue is on the property, tucked in a corner, and still in use, unlike the chapels on the site. The details of finance were supposed to be very repugnant to the French at that time.

As was typical in the Renaissance, François I was very interested in sensuous, pagan things, and his commissions are in great contrast to the straight-laced 19th century décor that Napoléon put in 300 years later. Hot gods are fun when you’re big and sexy, but less so when you’re not, I’d say.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two men were quite different, though I imagine they got their money in much the same way. Who did pay for all of Napoléon’s wars and projects? I don’t think he was just a miraculously great military leader. There is something missing in the story.

There were loads and loads of elaborately decorated rooms, and I only saw a relative few. They were all different, but I didn’t think they would be that interesting in photographs. As an example, here is the Pope’s Apartment, named after Pope Pius something who came to visit with Napoléon. Striking more deals, no doubt. With all that old tapestry and brocade, you might wonder if it smells musty? It does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

François I’s décor, though 300 years older, interested me most, because it was so clean and different, with Italianate paneling in natural wood accented with gold, and fresco paintings by Italian experts.

 

Always interested in how things begin, I wanted to find the spring of beautiful water that is the château’s namesake. This morning I arrived early in the section called the English Garden, full of curves and large trees and natural swathes of flowers. The birds were carrying on, and different flowering trees stood out in pink from the dark pines and fresh green leaves. I wandered here and there, trying to follow a small stream, and then, in a copse of trees and underbrush, found the Fountain of Belle Eau. There was nobody around. One of the kings interested in pagan art had placed a lovely statue of the goddess Flore, or Flora, at the head of the basin where the water emerges and pools before becoming a stream. In the gloom I noticed two very different statues, one on each side of the pool, to Flore’s left and right. They have been added fairly recently, I’d say. I’d seen no mention of them in any of the many brochures.

I think times that are linked with major financial and monetary innovations, tend to bring a renewed interest in pagan myths and traditions, e.g. back in the Renaissance when François I was bringing pagan sculptures to France, like Flore. These days, someone who, I bet, is connected with the latest skullduggery had the effrontery to place these two at this foundational spot. They are not credited that I could see, and though I had not expected them, wasn’t overly surprised.

The woman looks down at the black, not-so-belle-eau. The man-thing seems to want her attention from the other side, to no avail. They each have only one leg. It’s quite a threesome.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I walked around the park and through the formal gardens and back into the town. It is full of people who look familiar, like aspiring elites, dressed the same, the same age, the same miserable faces as the people who are ashamed of European culture back home in Oregon. There is a very exclusive business/political school in Fontainebleau, and a few people who were looking quite important. Many black/white couples as well, which is the first time I’ve seen that in France. The global agenda is anxiously embraced by people anxious to retain their position. By now I’ll just say: it is obviously an agenda, ok? The many young classroom tours I saw had one French child for ten or twelve Arab and black ones.  A little Arab boy on one of my tours acted more excited about French history than anyone else–he was a little genius and walked with the guide, asking many good questions–and only four years old! I can’t tell what is going on with the French in general, but French aspirants to power are probably up to their same old fibs.