THE cull of the hereditaries in the House of Lords continues apace. But why stop there? Having got rid of their Parliamentary seats, the next logical step to end privilege would be to bring their country seats — Longleat, Wilton, Steventon, Woburn, Longford, Chatsworth, and the rest — and all their treasures into public ownership. Anxiety about just such a pointless act of vengeance brought about the creation of the Musée Condé, in the rebuilt Château de Chantilly, outside Paris, in the 19th century.
General Henri d’Orléans, Duc d’Aumale (1822-97), son of the last king of France Louis-Philippe, was just eight when he was bequeathed the estate by his great-uncle. Exiled in England for 23 years (1848-71), d’Aumale amassed a collection of paintings and books on a prodigious scale, all intended for Chantilly.
Fifteen years later, in 1886, the Third Republic voted in exile laws that expelled the heads of the old reigning houses of France and purged princes from the upper echelons of the army. Fearful that his property would be confiscated, as he was the uncle to the heir to throne, the childless d’Aumale immediately changed the terms of his 1884 will (hitherto kept secret), turning it into an immediate donation to the Institut de France. He retained the right of usufruct and continued, at first from a second exile in England, to add to the collection until his death.
After the Louvre, Chantilly has the second largest collection of Old Master paintings in France. It includes three exceptional masterpieces by Fra Angelico, three by Raphael, including his Three Graces, five works each by Nicolas Poussin and Ingres, and much more. By the terms of d’Aumale’s donation, the works can never be loaned or the original hang altered.
This leads to a certain incongruity; in the Tribune, for instance, Van Dyck’s portrait of Queen Henrietta Maria’s brother, Gaston de France, Duc d’Orléans, is in company with Pierre Mignard’s portrait of Molière, Watteau’s Love Discarded, and Sassetta’s predella picture of The Mystic Marriage of St Francis of Assisi, of which the other seven panels are in the National Gallery (Arts, 12 May 2023).
D’Aumale was equally well known as a book-collector. Built to house his medieval manuscripts, his book room holds his most celebrated treasure; his rapacity knew no bounds, and, in December 1855, at the age of 24, from a convent outside Genoa he obtained a 15th-century prayer book illuminated by the Limbourg brothers. The reputation of this Book of Hours, Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, brings visitors to Chantilly in their droves (more than half a million visitors in 2024), but, for reasons of conservation, they only ever see a facsimile.
Now, at the end of a two-year conservation programme at the Musée Condé, the chance has been taken to show the famed bi-folds of the calendar and the Book of Hours itself in an exhibition that is housed in the larger space of the Jeu de Paumes rather than in the Cabinet des Livres; there, a parallel exhibition is held of 50 devotional books ranging over seven centuries, including the first known psalter with a calendar (c.1190) and the Hours of Jean III de Gros (1434?-84), painted in grisaille and gold by Simon Marmion (1425-89).
Years ago, when the Cloisters Museum in New York undertook to re-bind another of his spectacular Limbourg manuscripts, Les Belles Heures (1408), it took the opportunity to photograph each of the pages; an aunt gave me the facsimile volume (Thames & Hudson) for my 21st birthday. The original has been loaned here, in an exhibition that brings together for the first since 1416 all known seven Books of Hours commissioned by the duke.
The exhibition focuses on Jean I, Duc de Berry (1340-1416), and, in addition to a wealth of his illuminated manuscripts, includes his tomb effigy from the cathedral of St Étienne in Bourges, and one of the “weepers” from the original tomb chest, sculpted by Jean de Cambrai. Enfolded in a mantle, with his hands resting across his chest, the duke in death is projected as an exemplar of Christian sanctity, which is at odds with his oppressive behaviour towards his enemies and tenants. When a peasant rebellion broke out against him in 1381, he repressed it and imposed further taxes to pay the soldiery who carried out his orders.
Among the paintings in the exhibition is the Madonna and Child with Butterflies (c.1410) from Berlin, painted by Jean Malouel (c.1370-1415), who was the uncle of the three Limbourg brothers who first undertook decorating Les Très Riches Heures.
These establish the context of France on the eve of the disastrous French defeat at Agincourt at the hands of the English King Henry V.
Twenty-six pages from the legendary calendar can be seen side by side. Alongside the lectionary of saints to be observed are monthly representations of the Zodiac and associated labours of the field (and, for the armchair traveller, the museum offers a website: les-tres-riches-heures.chateaudechantilly.fr).
The Duc de Berry et d’Auvergne, like his elder brother, Charles V of France, who had died in 1380, had been born in the royal castle at Vincennes, a few miles east of Paris. Henry V’s younger brother, Humfrey, Duke of Gloucester, too, was a famed royal bibliophile, amassing some 500 volumes, of which just 47 have so far been identified. A late-13th-century Nouveau Testament, first owned by John II of France (1350-1364), came on to the market in 2023, taking the tally to four dozen.
Of the Duc de Berry’s collection, which was much smaller, probably some 300 volumes, about 100 volumes have been identified. They, too, are widely dispersed, but this exhibition uniquely offers the chance to bring many of them back together.
Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry is among the most famous manuscripts in the Western world. It testifies to the splendour and artistic refinement of Christianity in the late Middle Ages, with its studied calligraphy and 121 illuminated pages produced throughout the 15th century. The initial commission was offered to the Limbourg brothers, Paul, Jean, and Herman, from Nijmegen. It was unfinished at the duke’s death, and Barthélémy d’Eyck continued the work for the royal family. Jean Colombe completed its decoration in a distinct style around 1485 for Charles I, the Savoyard duke who had come to own it.
The cooing of many visitors gathered around the pages of the celebrated calendar suggested that the harsh reality of serfdom in the countryside was as foreign to their experience as it was to the duke’s. In the illustration for January, the self-satisfied duke sits, giving and receiving New Year’s Day gifts. On the table is a large gold salt, shaped like a ship. A richly worked tapestry hangs behind him. There is no mistaking the wealth on show. His insignia was a bear, and his blue cloak (painted with lapis lazuli) is decorated in gold with bear pawprints.
Many of the individual scenes include castles. These are no mere caprices, but accurate representations of the houses and domains that he owned across France. Although intended for private devotion, the book includes a daily reminder of the owner’s luxurious patrimony. Widely known from reproductions from the late 19th century onwards, these depictions of historic castles, noble scenes, and seasonal work in the fields have shaped our perception of the Middle Ages.
At a time when Anglo-French relations are strong after President Macron’s state visit, and the agreement to loan the Bayeux Tapestry from its provincial town in Normandy to the British Museum — a work that is the finest example of English embroidery of the period — this sumptuous display hints at what Henry V gained at Agincourt and by marrying into the French Crown.
“Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry” is at the Musée Condé, Château de Chantilly, Chantilly, France, until 5 October (closed on Tuesdays). Phone 00 33 3 44273180. chateaudechantilly.fr
