The Folly of Buissy: A Versailles Whisper Along the Somme’s Edge

There exists, along the silver-threaded banks of the Somme, a chateau that does not merely stand upon the land but commands it—a vision of 18th-century grandeur reborn from the bones of a medieval fortress. This is *The Little Versailles*, or as history murmurs, *The Folly of Buissy*, a masterpiece of stone and light where every wrought-iron scroll of its towering gate seems to unfurl a story before you even cross the threshold. Classified as a *Monument Historique*, it is not merely preserved but *alive*, its golden-gilded salons and vaulted cellars humming with the quiet pride of centuries.

Step through the gate, and the world narrows to this: twenty hectares of parkland, where six-hectare woods whisper to a mirror-still pond, where French gardens—meticulously restored—unfurl like embroidered silk before the chateau’s symmetrical façade. The air here is thick with the scent of damp earth and old roses, with the distant chime of the octagonal dovecote standing sentinel over suspended greenhouses, their glass panes catching the sun like scattered jewels.

Inside, the grand central hall stretches before you, a spine from which the chateau’s heart beats. To the right, reception rooms blush with newly gilded woodwork, their ceilings a constellation of fine gold leaf, while the dining room frames the park beyond like a living painting. To the left, a library exhales the scent of aged leather and ink, a boudoir waits with the hush of confidences, and a bedroom—just one of *ten*—offers sanctuary. The period staircase, worn smooth by generations, ascends to a private apartment tucked like a secret, complete with its own office, kitchenette, and sitting room, a world within a world. Above, the second floor cradles five more chambers, two bathrooms clad in marble, and attics brimming with possibility—canvas for a connoisseur’s touch.

Beneath, the cellars arch in vaulted brick, cool and timeless, where a geothermal boiler hums with modern discretion. Beyond the chateau’s walls, the outbuildings—750 square meters of them—unfold like a village of their own: a long building and two pavilions, an independent apartment, two guest houses, and a vast shed, all waiting to serve grand visions or quiet retreats.

Here, between Abbeville’s charm and Amiens’ grace, less than two hours from Paris by air and an hour from Le Touquet’s golden sands, time bends. The Somme’s gentle current traces the edge of the estate, as if the river itself were a moat for this kingdom of tranquility. This is not merely a property; it is a legacy, a canvas for those who hear the call of heritage and wish to write their name into its next chapter. The Folly of Buissy awaits—not as a relic, but as a living dream, restored to perfection, ready to be loved anew.