French Naval Headquarters Unbelievable Opulence

After an hour of waiting in line holding up my umbrella in a steady cold rain, my feet felt icy enough to prompt me to leave. The fact that this would be our last chance to see  the rarely visited and intriguing Hotel de la Marine, seen below on a prettier day; for the next two years kept me reluctantly in line.

We couldn’t really enjoy the view of majestic Place de la Concorde  in front of us due to keeping our heads tucked under cover  from the steady drizzle,and dodging being poked by everyone’s else umbrellas.  Had it not been for a friendly fellow sufferer to converse with, I would have done what I usually do when waiting in line;  meditate and pray.

By this time, it was not surprising  to notice the audacious line breakers, who brazenly think they can go unnoticed trying to inconspicuously hang alongside of us.  Though I wanted to say something, my ever present peace making demeanor resisted and I didn’t.

Fortunately, they were called out by others in front of us, with punishing words mocking their rudeness, which did little to defer them.  This line breaking stuff seems to happen a lot more here than I ever remember in the states.

In another 30 minutes, we were almost near the entrance under the gothic style arches, when I saw security personnel tell those waiting in the triple snaked line to leave, because they would never have enough time to make it in.

It wasn’t a pretty scene as you can imagine, because like us, they  too had been waiting in the rain for over an hour to no avail.  Loud protests ensued, and I felt sorry for them, as this has happened to me  in the past.

I had heard that what we were waiting so patiently to see was superlative and worth the wait, but frankly  that was an extreme understatement.  Since 1806,  it has served as the headquarters of the French navy and marine, so I did not expect anything particularly  opulent in the least!

Now I know why this building was rarely open to the public.  It might have incited another revolution.

The whole idea of this magnificent building was the brainchild of  King Louis XV, who was called “le bien aimé” or beloved.

He wanted some buildings built to frame the Place Louis XV, where in the center was a statue of the beloved king, now removed and  renamed Place de la Concorde.

At their completion, he designated the one to the east of Rue Royale in 1765 be used as the royal depository of furnitures, weapons and jewels of the royal families of France.

Now for most people, the thought of constructing a palatial structure to be a royal closet would be ridiculously decadent to say the least, but not Louis XV.  After all, he was born and raised in Versailles, surrounded his whole life by extreme luxurious splendor.

Not only was this particular king well loved, but he was likewise infamously noted as a ladies man , where throughout his throne ship he maintained a continuous flock of mistresses.

There were only sixteen documented mistresses, in addition to numerous anonymous young women, plus scores of prostitutes that kept him totally enveloped in an abundant state of amorous debauchery up to his death bed, to the despair of his queen.

The wide wrought iron filigree staircase lead us up to a long entrance hall, called the Gallery of Ports,  honoring the major French ports of that time, Cherbourg, Brest, Lorient, Rochefort and Toulon.

Each side had panel after panel of intricate gold carvings with multiple huge chandeliers to light the way.

Little did I know that this was just a prelude to this well hidden den of unimaginable grandeur! Emerging from this, I was flabbergasted by the breathtaking Naval commander’s office that would have made the Sun King, Louis XIV jealous!

I have seen a lot of chandeliers, but this was one of the most exquisite! The immense size of hundreds of sparkling crystal pendants hovering above the elegant desk was more than sumptuous.

It has served as the office of successive Naval Ministers, until December 31, 2015, when they were shipped to a new home.  What a stupendous view they had from the floor to ceiling windows over looking Place de la Concorde, especially with La Grand Roue in the background as well!

The main reception rooms were a continuation of extreme ornate opulence that literally flooded the whole domain.  It reminded me of Versailles Hall of Mirrors, which is not surprising, as it had the same interior designer,  Jacques Gondouin, who loved abundant chandeliers.

It seemed like every inch of the walls had gold carvings and outlays that framed portraits of previous  naval commanders in chiefs.

Frankly I found it hard to believe that this superb vast building, that easily rivaled the grandeur of Versailles,  adorned with detailed beautiful gold carvings  and chandeliers everywhere was created and built as a storage unit?

My immediate thought was there must have been another agenda here than just storing furniture and jewels.

I have often said I can feel energy seeping from old stones and environs.  There was an immense sense of frivolousness and voluptuousness that permeated throughout. Who knows, perhaps the whole premises were initially built in hopes of  accommodating some of the secret mistresses and lovers of the king.

If this was the case, Louis XV had little time to enjoy it, as he died in 1774. The royal depository was opened for only four hours a month to the public, who probably were in as much disbelief as myself,  about it being a royal storage room.

I can imagine that many came away disgusted by the excesses of the court, which helped fuel riots to overturn the monarchy, which by now had passed to Louis XV’s grandson Louis XVI.

In 1789, the royal jewels were stolen during the night, prompting the theory that it was an inside job orchestrated by Danton, one of the principal organizers of the French Revolution.

To this day the royal jewels have never been found.  And even more tragic, that from the long colonnaded balcony, Revolutionaries could witness Louis XVI and later his queen Marie Antoinette put to death by guillotine.

While it took almost two hours of waiting in line, the actual visit was rather brief in comparison.  I would have liked to linger more just to soak up the ambiance and especially take in longer the magnificent view from the balcony, even if the Eiffel Tower was veiled  with rain clouds.

Evening shadows took form by the time we exited on Rue Royale.  Once again thrown into the cold, the thought of a little hot chocolate sounded appropriately soothing.  Although, Ladurée and Fauchon were just up the street, we opted for Angelina’ s hot chocolate  on Rue Rivoli, not far from Place de la Concorde.

When I was a student here, it was considered the nec plus ultra for their famous  chocolate brew. It has since then been out rivaled by several other places, especially Jacque Genin, whose chocolate I find more superb in texture and taste.

Angelina’s decor is nevertheless as beautiful as ever and being there can easily take you back to another era of time. They still offer their famous Mont blanc pastry, consisting of a shredded mound of chestnut cream topped with whipped cream to resemble the alpine mountain top.

The hot chocolate is still good, though the whipped cream is served in tiny cups, rather than in bowls, where in the past you could scoop out as much as you liked to crown your steaming cup of chocolate.

Duly satiated and warmed up, it was time to leave behind our wonderful, albeit soggy and cold afternoon of ogling the sumptuous Hotel de la Marine.  I can only imagine that the current Naval Minister is going to miss his spectacular office since he has been moved to a new unitarian  style building more in line with the sedate and  drab greyness associated with the military.

As for the Hotel de la Marine, it will open after renovation in all her glory and splendor to include ground floor boutiques, offices and a restaurant.