The Chancellor, his Soul, His Wife, and the Hospital.

Nicolas Rolin was a man of some importance in the 15^th Century.

Born at Autun into an upwardly mobile family (his birthplace is now a museum), he became a lawyer in Paris, and from there rose to become the Chancellor of Burgundy, and right-hand man to the reigning Duke (Philip the Good). 

Very much the far-sighted politician, he helped Duke Philip steer Burgundy through the final, particularly dangerous period of the Hundred Years War, remaining allies with England despite the sudden death of Henry V, and then changing sides to join the French after the victories of St. Jeanne d’Arc.

Nicolas was a clever man.

A wily man. 

A cunning and sometimes duplicitous man.

And as time passed, a very wealthy man.

(Here he is in about 1435 when aged about sixty) in a detail from the painting 'The Virgin with the Chancellor Rolin' by Jan van Eyck)

 

                                                             http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Jan_van_Eyck_071.jpg

He was at the peak of his career.

He had three sons to carry on the family name. He had plenty of money and property

Twice widowed, he was now married to wife number three and all was right with the world. 
He was content.
Or was he?

Something was wrong. 

Something continually jogged his conscience and it was his wife who made him realise what it was: the state of his Soul.

He began to wonder what would become of him when he died. 

After all, he was in his sixties and thus already an old man.  He could die at any time!

How would God view him and his life?

He did not want, as Jacob Marley did, to look back upon his life when it was too late and realise that:

“Mankind was my business.  The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all my business!”

(A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens)

In this belief he was spurred on by his pious wife, Guigone de Salins.  She had been fearful for the state of his soul for some time now.
Yes, they were fabulously wealthy, but Nicolas had thus far done very little in the ways of charity.  Of course he gave alms but was it enough?  Every one did the same.
Could he stand up on Judgement Day and say with all honesty that he had done his best to help those less fortunate?  
He knew that the answer was a resounding ‘NO’!

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guigone_de_Salins

He thought about the world and the state that Burgundy, and indeed much of France, was now in.  The end of the wars had bought more trouble than peace.
The fabric of social life had been rent asunder.  
Neighbour was suspicious of neighbour.
The ill and destitute were left uncared for.
Villages and even town were in ruins.
People were homeless.
Bands of unwanted and unpaid mercenaries, unable to get home, and angry at having been short changed, roamed the countryside, intent on pillage and rapine. . . and as if that wasn’t enough, plague had broken out. 

Refugees from the countryside were pouring into cities and major towns to seek relief. 

Suddenly Nicolas saw the way forward.  He knew exactly what to do: He would save his soul by feeding the pour, clothing the naked and looking after the sick.

Having made his decision, he discussed it with his wife and together they set to with a good will. 

Nicolas decided to create a permanent base from which his newfound charitable side would operate. 

The town of Beaune was not too far distant (as the crow flies) from his own home town of Autun, and having heard that it was having a very hard time of it in the aftermath of the war, he decided to set up shop there.

Ever the entrepreneurial businessman, he planned everything down to the smallest detail: The interior, the exterior, the furnishings - everything.  If he was going to plough a fair amount of his vast wealth into this project then it had better be done correctly: He was not about to throw his money away.

Having first asked the Pope for permission to begin a charitable organisation, he purchased a large piece of land next to the market place at Beaune.  The beauty of this spot was that a stream ran along side of it. It was Saturday 20 January 1442 and the Hôtel-Dieu (God’s Hospital), a hospice for the sick and the infirm, can be said to have been born.

Meanwhile his wife (with the Pope’s permission) visited various religious communities to see how they operated.  The Rolins were going to found their own religious order to run the operation but they needed to see what worked and what didn’t. 

They soon decided upon a Benedictine model.

Nicolas envisioned his project to be a combination hospital, almshouse, and charity centre.  One that would benefit the many levels of poverty in the area and which, thanks to careful planning and organisation, would be funded by ownership of various profitable businesses.  As a result the Hôtel-Dieu remains in operation to this very day (although houses in more modern buildings nearby.  The old fifteenth century complex is now a museum which anyone can visit.

So let’s go and see it for ourselves!

The outer wall is fairly plain until one reaches the front entrance:

Once you walk into the Courtyard, everything changes:

One enters from the right (where those people are sitting)

The ornate roof is what 'lifts' the building and makes it stand out:

The tiles are glazed and the woodwork is ornately carved.

The plainer stone building is the 'Great Hall of the Poor':

The inside contains the beds that were in use for the sick up until the mid 20th Century:

Each is numbered and had correspondingly numbered equipment, linen, blankets etc - all as per Nicolas' directions so that no bed was without its own things.  Everything was numbered, even the plates the patients used.
Windows were set up high so as to provide good ventilation.
The beds run along both sides of the hall and are set away from the wall so that the intervening space (behind the curtains) between the bed and wall becomes a walkway so that a doctor could examine the patient in private, either before they got in bed or, once the front curtains were drawn, while they were in bed:

This however was the 15th Century and the idea of personal space did not really exist: Thus each bed was made to contain two people.

The roof of the Great Hall is like the inside hull of an upturned boat.  It has been sympathetically restored:


Half of the Hall is a Chapel for the inmates and the nuns who cared for them:

In prior times the tomb of Guigogne  (who died in 1470) stood before the altar, but it was destroyed and her remains also destroyed, during the French Revolution.  A plaque now marks the spot:

The walls of the chapel are decorated and painted with the arms of the Rolin and the Salins families:

Once out in the courtyard again, one can go in through that doorway in the far corner:

This room was set aside for men, on the request of King Louis XIV who visited in 1658.  My photo is unfortunately blurred but you can see how this chamber was laid out 

I think that it was originally a chapel.  Mannequins are dressed in the habits of the nuns that used to tend the patients.  On the table are various pieces of equipment used by the doctors.

A large chambers has been turned into an exhibition hall of sorts that shows the history of the place.  Glazed wooden cabinets are set up with various displays.
Medical equipment:

 Architectural details:

The next set of rooms contains the old Dispensary:

The painting shows Claude Morelot the institution's 18th Century apothecary.

There are some beautiful majolica jars and bottles.  I would love to have some of these:

There are cabinets to store the various ingredients to be used in medicines:

And then there are the kitchens:

Food was prepared here not only for the nuns and the patients, but for those poor people who gathered outside each day for this was a charity centre and while it could not possibly house all those in need it could at least attempt to feed as many as possible.

The final set of rooms on view are those containing institution's treasures: Tapestries and spectacular paintings:

Photography was not permitted in the room with the paintings but you could buy postcards (which I did) as a keepsake.  Thanks however to Wikipedia I can show you the magnificent altar piece that is the star of the collection.  It was painted by Roger van der Weyden during Nicolas' lifetime:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Rogier_van_der_Weyden_001.jpg

Here is St Michael, weighing the souls of the dead:

Those found wanting go down to Hell:

 Those found to be in good order go up to Heaven!:

The building of the hospital, together with the needs of the patients and sisters provided a huge economic boost to the people of Beaune.  Of course it was going to take time to get everything in order.  The budget blew out (I think we can all relate to this) and various hold ups meant that the completion of the building was behind schedule and not completed until the year 1451 but on the last day of the year (three and a half years later than originally planned for) the Hospital took in its first patient.  Nicolas (now aged seventy-five) and Guigogne were on hand and and the mood was one of great optimism.

The Duke visited and was so amazed at what Nicolas had achieved that he granted the hospital various rights to free firewood.  People began to leave bequests of money to the hospital in their Wills and when Nicolas noticed that the teacher he had employed to teach the nuns was far too strict with them, and with the sick, he fired her and busied himself with writing a Rule for the new order (the Hospital Sisters of Beaune) himself.  In doing this he made compassion his watchword.

Nicolas Rolin died in 1462, aged eighty-six.  There was some unpleasantness for the widowed Giugogne, when her stepson Cardinal Rolin (the local bishop) challenged the Hospital's rights of patronage; but the case was eventually decide in favor of the hospital and Guigogne decided to retire there, dying in 1470.

As I walked around the Hospital and saw and heard all that Nicolas had done I felt that the work had changed him.  He had started out very much the hard-headed businessman, the wily politician, but engaged upon this enormous act of charity, he had become an exceptionally humane person - and that made me happy.

This is what you would see if the alter piece is closed.  Nicolas and Guigogne at prayers:

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rogier_van_der_Weyden_-_The_Last_Judgment_Polyptych_(reverse_side)_-_WGA25626.jpg

I hope you enjoyed this little tour of the Hôtel-Dieu.  Perhaps one day you will find yourself in Beaune and then you too can visit and see for yourself this glory of 15th Century Burgundy.

(I got my information from the beautiful guide book we bought there.  I also used a wonderful little book called 'French Architecture' by Pierre Lavedan.  I recommend it for anyone interested in such things)
And if you want to know more and can read French then here is the Hospital's official website.

Dreams broken, and dashed asunder!

Far away, on the Leicestershire/Northamptonshire borders, far away from roads and indeed, any hint of the 21st Century, you might (if you are lucky) come across this green, tree-lined lane:

  

This lane is not made for striding along in stout walking books.
A gentle amble is all that is required.
At the end of the lane is, what appears at first to be, a stream:

Closer inspection reveals it to be a moat of sorts, surrounding a greenish hill: no castle is to be seen, but it is definitely manmade.

Is this some sort of fairyland?

To some extent the answer is 'yes' and this is only reinforced as one leaves the moat behind and strolls past a meadow filled with wild flowers:

One feels a part of nature - but is it really?  Is this nature in the raw - or an idyll?  A tamed and civilised nature - a heavenly nature?

There is certainly enchantment here...

Suddenly, one notices a relatively ordinary looking, old house which is only made extraordinary by the fact that it is seemingly sitting in the middle of nowhere. . .
Do these fields; the green and pleasant lane; the moat, all belong to this fairly ordinary house?
(And who lives in there?)

But all thoughts of the house and it's occupants are forgotten when one notices what is standing behind it: A palace worthy of a fairytale!!
Lyveden New Build - a place of dreams broken and dashed asunder.

Lyveden New Build (or as the National Trust puts it 'Lyveden New Bield')

Lyveden looks like  a house in ruins but in fact it is a structure 'frozen' in mid construction.

It may look like a grand house but in truth it is 'only' a lodge; conceived and built by Sir Thomas Tresham.  

It was called New Build to distinguish it from the old Lyveden, the family home of the Treshams.  

The New Build was designed as a place to retire to from the hurly burly of life on a large sheep farming estate.  It would be to this spot that Sir Thomas, his family and intimate friends could retire and be away from it all.

Sir Thomas Tresham was a fashionable, socially well-contacted, Elizabethan courtier from a wealthy family.  

Old money. 

Old religion.  

In this new Protestant kingdom, Thomas and those like him stood out for their Catholic adherence. At first a Catholic who outwardly conformed to the new order of things, he suddenly rebelled and began refusing to go to the Protestant Church services.  The Government were used to this sort of thing and had the perfect remedy: Lengthy Prison terms and heavy fines.  This was to be Thomas' lot in life.  The chains that would eventually overcome his dreams.

The application of those fines would gradually meant an ever increasing dint in his wealth; but at first Thomas was able to absorb such losses.  Sheep farming was his major source of wealth.  Wool production provided him with a steady income. But Sir Thomas's purse was not bottomless and eventually those fines, combined with a very generous lifestyle,  and a total of fifteen years in prison  - at his own expense - had the effect of slowly beggering the once wealthy family.  But that was in the future.  We are at Lyveden, begun when Sir Thomas was feeling more financially secure...

The front door at Lyveden

When Sir Thomas set his hand to something, he seems to have given it his all.  He had already dabbled in design, having draw up plans for the triangular-shaped Rushton Lodge (in the same County).  That building had been constructed based upon certain principals which Sir Thomas expanded upon with Lyveden.  

It was a slow process and by 1605 the stonework of the basement, the ground and the first floors of Lyveden were all constructed.  The materials for the second floor had been collected and . . .

But there was no more 'and'.  

Sir Thomas died.

His son and heir Francis was suddenly caught up in the gunpowder plot, dying 'mysteriously' in prison in the same year.

Everything fell in a heap.

Thomas had had to provide wedding dowries for his six daughters.  This together with the huge fines imposed upon him by the government meant that he died with his estate in significant debt.

The disgrace and death of his heir, leaving a child to inherit the impoverished lands meant that at that moment there was no money to pay the workmen, and there was unlikely to be any for some time to come.  Their response was to cut their losses, pick up their tools, and leave.

And that, for the most part, was that.

Lyveden New Build remained trapped.

Unfinished.

Any interior wooden structures have either rotted away or were carted off for other purposes and apart from a minor incident in the Civil War that could have led to it's destruction but didn't, Lyveden has stood frozen in time.   The building was sturdy, well constructed and able to withstand the elements, even in its unfinished state.

And thus it remains until this day

(Which is nice actually because it is now owned by the National Trust and you can visit it yourself!)

This is a photo of some interior carves stone ceiling work.  It is a typical late Renaissance pattern, similar to that which can be seen at Burghley, home of Sir Thomas' political enemy (and Elizabeth's chief councillor, William Cecil):

I took this photo at Burghley House but forgot to 'picmonkey' it 

But why visit?  Why did I make the journey to go and see it?

It 'appears' to be a half-finished lodge, standing in the middle of a field but there is oh so much more to Lyveden than that!

Symbolism was very fashionable in the Elizabeth era.  

Hidden meanings: It was a very Renaissance 'thing'.

Almost everything could stand for something else and entire books were composed on the subject.   Secret codes.  Secret messages.  The Renaissance mind love it!  

The colours you wore; the jewellery and embroidery with which you adorned yourself; the statuary; the carvings on your house; the very flowers you chose to have in your garden:  All were ways of making a statement without actually being seen to make one.

Take for example this famous portrait of Queen Elizabeth I:  The so-called Rainbow Portrait:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Elizabeth_I_Rainbow_Portrait.jpg

Eyes, ears, a rainbow, pearls: the painting is adorned with symbolism.  Sometimes we think we know what the symbols mean but we could well be quite wrong.  Sometimes we have no idea what the 'message' is.

Lyveden is building full of symbolism

Sir Thomas conceived the idea of Lyveden Lodge after his volte face on the issue of his outward conformation to Government diktats.  The lodge was to be a symbol of his return to his Catholic roots in the face of increased government persecution. It would proclaim to one and all where his sympathies lay.

As you can see from this aerial view, Lyveden was built in the form of a Greek Cross:

http://www.northamptonshiretouristguide.com/Articles/Article_57.asp

A Greek Cross has four arms of equal length, and this is the basic layout of the building.  This meant that the building could consist of five equal squares of which you will read more later.

Sir Thomas then directed that certain symbols were to be carved on the outer surfaces of Lyveden.  These symbols were to not only make a statement about the owner but were to illustrates the mystical nature of the building.

Here are some examples:

In the main photo below is the Chi Rho sign. Top right is Our Lord's robe and the dice that the guards used for gambling to see who would get the robe after He died.  The lower right photographs shows some of the letters carved into the stonework.  In the bottom right is part of the Latin inscription that ran around the first floor.  It consists of various statements in Latin, taken from the Bible.  This part reads in full (and I have highlighted in red the part you can see) : 

J E S U S. B E A T U S. J V E N T E R. Q V I. T E. P O R T A V I T.  

In English: Jesus, Blessed is the womb that bore thee.

In this second collage you have: Main photograph, the sacred IHS (which can mean Iesus Hominum Salvator (Jesus Saviour of the World) or In Hoc Signo (In this sign you will conquer).  It was also the symbol for the Order of Jesuits (the bête noire of the English Government).  The upper right shows the ChiRho sign again, plus a bag symbolising the money paid to Judas for betraying Jesus. The thirty silver coins are carved as a ring around the bag.  The middle photograph shows the instruments of torture used on Jesus.  The bottom photo shows more of the same.

All these symbols refer to suffering, the overcoming of suffering, and the persecution the government was carrying out against those who maintained the 'old religion', people like Sir Thomas.  No wonder he was a government target!


Sir Thomas was a very clever man and even from his prison cell he directed his building operations.  He used special numbers when designing Lyveden: Three to represent the Holy Trinity; Five to represent the Five Wounds of Christ, and Seven to represent the seven instruments of the Crucifixion.
Here is a quote from the National Trust Guide Book:
"The plan of New Build consists of five equal squares.  Each arm of the Cross ends in a bay with five sides, each measuring five feet, making a total of twenty-five feet.  This is no accident - the 25th is the date both of the Nativity (December) and the Annunciation (March)...
"The lodge is on three floors (but the second floor was never built)  . . . Outside, sets of three shields are divided by three windows, diamonds are grouped in threes and the measurement from one side of the building to the other is 243 feet - three x three x three x three x three.
I find these sorts of things both fascinating and very clever.


The audio guide told me that this niche probably held the Statue of Our Lady owned by Sir Thomas's wife (and usually hidden from the government who would have destroyed it).
In those days, after the death of her husband and son, (and the wooden floor and rudimentary ceiling still existed) she sometimes came here with a few select followers to meditate and pray:

Tourists throughout the ages have visited Lyveden and some have left their mark:

The interior gives us hints as the plans Sir Thomas had for the finished product.  What a wonderful place it would have been!

One sees everything from the basement level because of course there is no flooring although the holes for the joists still exist.  In one part of the complex however, one can mount a platform and look out of the upper floor windows, across the fields. In Sir Thomas' days these fields were home to his extensive herds of sheep:

Lyveden is not a big place.  A visit, even with an audio guide, doesn't take much time. Indeed many people come and go within half an hour!

The building is undoubtably beautiful.  The stone turns almost honey-coloured in the afternoon light, and the very green grass at this time of year only goes to accentuate this beauty:

But beauty is not the real reason for visiting Lyveden.  Nor is the fact that you can tick off (on your list) another National Trust property visited.

Rather, the reason for visiting Lyveden is to be found in the site itself, the atmosphere, and the spirit of the man who built it.
These are the things that drew me to visit this unfinished diamond.  I find that there is a sense of dignified sadness about the place.
What dreams Sir Thomas must have had when first he conceived of building this 'little' lodge for himself.

I hope you enjoyed this little tour.  If you have not been there already, I recommend you hot-foot it there as soon as possible!

Happy Birthday King Henry III

Today (1 October ) is the birthday of King Henry III of England.

Here is a representation of Henry III on a coin of the period.
The photograph was take by Kirk Dale.

Born at Winchester on the 1^st of October 1207 he was son of the infamous King John and ruled from 1216 until 1272, the longest reigning English monarch for the next five hundred years: until bumped successively by King George III, Queen Victoria and recently by our own Queen Elizabeth II.

He is in this blog because he was a patron of artists, of gardeners, of architects and of artisans.  

Yes he was a spendthrift, and it is true that he was rather a martinet when it came to his rights as King.    He could also be something of a drama queen on occasions.

Avant-garde for his time, he was also an excellent interior designer, fashion designer and landscaper in his own right.

He was a faithful husband, a loving father, generous to a fault with all who came within his orbit; pious; approachable, kind hearted, extremely charitable; a gourmet of note, and a consummate showman when it came to public displays.
And what's more, I am proud to say that he is my ever-so-many-greats step uncle (one of my ancestors was the result of his mother's second marriage) so I wanted to invite him along.

Time unfortunately forbids me from writing anything further at this stage except to say that this evening AGA and I will raise a glass and salute this medieval monarch.

Happy Birthday King Henry III!  

This painting, on the so called Westminster Retable, was executed at Henry III's command.  The image comes from wikimedia commons.