All the original gardens were laid out anew by Louis XIV, and that of Diane underwent a considerable change at the hands of Napoleon, who also laid out a Jardin Anglais on the site of the ancient Jardin des Pins, where originally sprang into being the rippling Fontaine Beleau, or Belle Eau, which gave its name to the palace, the forest and the town.
[Illustration: _Salle du Throne, Fontainebleau_]
The park, as distinct from the great expanse of surrounding forest, is a finely shaded range of alleys, due chiefly to Henri IV, who cut the great canal of ornamental water and ordained the general arrangement of its details.
The principal curiosity of the park is the famous Treille du Roy, or the King's Grape Vine, which, good seasons and bad, can be counted on to give three thousand kilos of authentic _chasselas_, grapes of the finest quality. One wonders who gets them: _Ou s'en vont les raisins du roi?_ This is an interrogation that has been raised more than once in the French parliament.
In general, the aspect of the exterior of the Palais de Fontainebleau, the walls themselves, the Cours, the alleyed walks are chiefly reminiscent of the early art of the Renaissance. François I is, after all, more in evidence than the Henris or the Napoleons. Within, the same is true in general, though to a less degree. The Renaissance is _maitresse_ within and without; the other moods are wholly subservient to her grace.
There is hardly an apartment in all the world of palaces in France, or beyond the frontiers, to rank with the great Galerie François I at Fontainebleau, though indeed its proportions are modest and its lighting defective to-day, for Louis XV blocked up all the windows on one side. It remains, however, one of the richest examples of the Franco-Italian decoration of its era, though somewhat tarnished by the heedlessness of Charles X.
Never were there before, nor since, its era such mythological wall-paintings as are here to be seen. The aspirants for the Prix de Rome protest each year against such subjects being set them for their _concours_, but their judges, recalling how effective such examples are, are insistent. The best examples of the School of Fontainebleau are a distinct variety of French painting. The veriest dabbler in art can say with Michelet: "There is no reminiscence of anything Italian therein."
