To be honest, I was skeptical about seeing an American imitation of a European estate. Somehow, I thought this place would be the 1900 version of Disney’s Epcot. Maybe if Jane Austen had actually slept here, I’d be more enthusiastic. But I thought my parents would enjoy it, and come to find out, I did too! (It was the kitchen scullery that sold me. What’s not to love about stacks of fine porcelain dishes personalized with Deering’s yacht’s insignia.)

The architect F. Burrall Hoffman Jr. designed the villa but it was the non-architect genius Paul Chalfin who oversaw the stunning interiors containing murals, frescoes, iron grillwork, ornate marble tiling, hand-painted wallpapers, carved woodwork, and gobs of fine European antiques that Deering had collected for decades. You’d have to be a minimalist blockhead not to find something tempting to steal.

It took over three years to complete. Construction began in 1913 and Deering moved in on Christmas Day, 1916, officially becoming Florida’s first millionaire retiree with his own seaside palace. (Many others would follow, including our current president.)

Vizcaya’s gardens wouldn’t be finished until 1921. Designed by landscape architect Diego Suarez, they included acres of stone and coral terraces, a grotto pool, an outdoor orchid room, a tea house, a sunken garden, football fields of symmetrical geometric shrubbery, a few stone fountains from Europe, a hundred or so marble sculptures, and thousands of specimen plants and trees. The pièce de résistance anchoring the garden was a pillared “casino,” housing Deering’s vast collection of booze. (Prohibition, man, was a-comin’.)

Four years later, Deering would be dead, perhaps fortuitously, as the estate was hit by a devastating hurricane in 1926, swamping the gardens with salt water and killing much of the vegetation. And if the sight of his dead roses didn’t kill him, seeing all his fine bottles of burgundy and claret floating away might have.

He had never married nor had children, so the estate went to his brother, and then eventually his nieces. They kept it up for a number of years until the costs grew too great. The estate is now owned by Miami Dade County.

Vizcaya has survived despite being hit by numerous hurricanes. Most recently, Hurricane Katrina and Hurricane William inflicted substantial damage in the house. The cast concrete and limestone barge sitting in the middle of the bay has been battered more severely than any other element on the estate. Like the best kind of rich man’s folly, it did serve a purpose, technically as a breakwater. But the storms took a toll. The gazebo is gone, the plantings are a mess, and it looks like some of the statues have been victims of shark attacks. The conservateurs on staff have spent the last year laser scanning every inch of the barge in order to create a virtual reality experience for visitors. These records will certainly come in handy when the barge inevitably falls victim to an as-yet-unnamed hurricane.

For centuries, we have built castles and surrounded them with formal gardens as an illusion of control over nature. That illusion is fading fast. In France, the Palace of Versailles lost its hornbeam trees last summer due to climate change. And at Vizcaya, the waves are rising. If you want a glimpse of this American chateau, better get to Coconut Grove soon.

In 1962, contestants in the Miss Universe Pageant did a press “meet and greet” at Vizcaya. Footage is below. Please note the clip opens with a shot of Miss Alaska and Miss Hawaii. Miss Hawaii, Macel Leilani Wilson, became the first Asian American to be crowned Miss America.