St. Louis |

The chapel at Tyntesfield is a spectacularly beautiful reimagining of a French medieval church, Sainte-Chapelle in Paris. Tyntesfield is a Victorian neo-Gothic mansion built by the devout Gibbs family, commoners who rose to great wealth through banking, shipping, and bat and bird manure (more on that later).

The chapel was the last big building project on the property, just outside Bristol, but it was in many ways the one most important to William Gibbs. It is also the first part of the house that the visitor sees on the walk from the parking lot and National Trust visitor center. It’s a stunning first impression. Arthur Blomfield was the architect and builder.

When the Gibbs family lived in their Victorian Gothic Revival mansion, the family, guests and servants alike attended prayers twice daily–first in the grand hall, and later in the chapel when it was finished. Beginning around 1842, William Gibbs made his fortune from a simple idea that grew and grew: he imported guano, the droppings of sea birds and bats, from Peru to North America. Guano was highly prized as a fertilizer. William Gibbs became the richest non-aristocratic man in England. Tyntesfield had 106 total rooms, with 26 main bedrooms plus more rooms for the many servants. The square footage is about 40,000. And this was only their country home. Most of the time they lived elsewhere, in equally grand digs.

Naturally, people were envious of Gibbs’s success. An indelicate ditty in London ran, “Mr. Gibbs made his dibs, Selling the turds of foreign birds.” Actually, the selling of fertilizer led inexorably to profiting from the slave trade, a fact which the Gibbs family preferred not to dwell on. Their shipping business, over time, became a part of the Triangular Trade that caused so much human misery. Ships constantly transported material goods and slaves between Europe, the Americas, and Africa.

Triangular Trade, Creative Commons GNU Free Documentation License

The Gibbs family donated large amounts of their fortune to various charitable causes, and generously supported churches all over England. Naturally, they wanted their own church. The chapel was built between 1872 and 1879, to a design by Arthur Bloomfield.

Sainte-Chapelle, interior, image from The Guardian article cited below

The inspiration was Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, pictured above. Sainte-Chapelle was built by the devout Louis IV in the 1240s. (He later became St. Louis, giving his name to the American city later still).

The stained glass at Tyntesfield is beautiful, if not as spectacular as the newly-restored glass at Sainte-Chapelle in Paris.

The stonework is lovely and evocative.

Portrait of William Gibbs by Eugene Deveria, circa 1850, Public Domain

WIlliam Gibbs intended to follow the example of aristocratic families and create a family burial vault underneath the chapel for future generations. The vault exists, but it is empty. The Bishop of Bath and Wells, under pressure from local churches, refused to consecrate the chapel. The stated reason was that allowing a consecrated chapel on the grounds of Tyntesfield would detract from local churches. I can’t help thinking that “the powers that be” were also reluctant to upset the social applecart by allowing a family of common birth to put on airs. (Eventually, George Abraham Gibbs was “created” 1st Baron Wraxall in 1928, but family fortunes were already declining by that time).

The chapel at Tyntesfield is the last stop for visitors touring the beautiful mansion. It’s a lovely, light-filled, quiet place to contemplate history. William Gibbs was buried elsewhere, but a cross and inscription from the book of Proverbs memorialize his life: “The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it is found in the way of righteousness.” William Gibbs did his best to be both a businessman and a righteous man. Early in his career, he and his brother Henry worked hard to completely repay the debts that earlier family members had run up. The family business had gone bankrupt, and there was no obligation to pay. But they did anyway, every penny. It also appears that William Gibbs did his best to remove his shipping business from the slave trade once the terrible abuses were known.

I previously wrote about Tyntesfield and the Gibbs family at https://castlesandcoffeehouses.com/2014/10/22/high-victorian…at-tyntesfield/ ‎

https://castlesandcoffeehouses.com/2013/06/19/tyntesfield-vi…lendor-rescued/ ‎

https://castlesandcoffeehouses.com/2013/06/18/mr-gibbs-made-his-dibs/

An article about the restoration of St. Chapelle in Paris is at http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/may/20/sainte-chapelle-paris-stained-glass-window-restoration-completed

Join me next time for more explorations in the art and history of Europe and the British Isles!

Most of us can only dream of owning a chateau. Nelie Jacquemart-Andre was able to hang her hat in a chateau, late in life. When Edouard Andre died in 1894 and left Nelie Jacquemart-Andre a widow, she faithfully continued to fill out his collections. In 1902, Nelie was traveling in the Orient, scouting for antiquities, when she received word that a chateau just outside Paris was for sale. She dropped everything and rushed back to France.

This was not just any chateau. It was the Abbaye Royale de Chaalis, and she had spent a good part of her childhood and young adulthood there. The guidebook above, new since the last time I visited, gave details about Nelie’s life that I had always wondered about. It turns out Nelie was not universally admired. The Comptesse Jean de Pange is quoted in the guidebook as saying that aristocrats used to mock the “plump, impulsive and very idiosyncratic little woman” who swept in and bought herself a fabulously historic chateau. (I sympathize with Nelie. Rich people always manage to annoy somebody).

Nelie was a talented painter even as a child, and she was taken on as a sort of protege of the chateau owners at the time, particularly Rose Pamela Vatry. Nelie was given art instruction, a studio was built for her, and she attended soirees packed with the aristocracy, illustrious artists, musicians and writers, and even with royalty. The young woman had a particular flair for portraits, and she obtained many commissions. One of these commissions, to paint the rich young banker Edouard Andre, eventually led to her brilliant marriage.

But Nelie was always a bit of a handful. Her patroness complained that she never even used her painting studio, she only appeared at dinner when the company was glittering enough, and she seemed more interested in social climbing than in painting.

The Chaalis estate had begun as an abbey in the Middle Ages. It gained great wealth and power due to royal patronage and extensive rich lands. In the years 1255-1260, an exquisite small chapel was built, during the reign of St. Louis, the king who became a full-fledged saint. He used to retreat to the abbey and live for awhile as a monk when he needed a break from ruling France. That chapel has been restored and is the best part of the chateau estate.

In the 1700s, the medieval buildings occupied by the religious order were rebuilt, and a little later the monks departed. Their cells in the main building became guest rooms for a succession of owners who set about making the “abbey” into a “chateau.”

By this time, the enormous main church had become a picturesque ruin, and so it remains.

When the entire estate went up for sale in 1902, Nelie snapped it up at a bargain price. I gather that she felt she had been treated as a sort of poor relation; this was payback. She set about installing her own magnificent collections, especially of antiquities. She also, according to the guidebook, hoped to marry a neighbor at nearby Chantilly, the Prince de Broglie. That never happened.

On her death, Nelie left both her Parisian mansion and her country chateau to the Institut de France, and both were immediately opened to the public as museums.

The Abbaye Royale de Chaalis is close to CDG Airport, making it an easy stop for drivers. It’s near the pretty and walkable town of Senlis, with its own historic sights. Chaalis is covered by the Paris Museum Pass, unlike the Musee Jacquemart-Andre. Indoor photos are restricted. But the new guidebook is a great read. If anyone other than Nelie Jacquemart-Andre had bought the property, it would probably be a golf club with condos today. Instead, it’s a permanent treasury of art and history, open to all.

Join me next time for more explorations in the art and history of Europe!

Tag Archives: St. Louis

The Chapel at Tyntesfield

Nelie’s Chateau