A Rothschild Treasury, Waddesdon, review: sparkling treasures with scintillating tales to tell
Over its 142-year history, Waddesdon’s plump sofas and gilt-edged chaises have cushioned the behinds of persons noble, political, arty and royal.
In its late-19th-century heyday, when Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild (1839-1898), who built the exuberant chateau near Aylesbury, Bucks, held his exclusive “Saturday-Monday” parties, guests included prime minister William Gladstone, the authors Henry James and Guy de Maupassant – even Queen Victoria.
Key to their itinerary would be a tour of the latest curios that Ferdinand had acquired for the Rothschild collection – his “gimcracks” as he called them, and facetiously so, because they were usually priceless. He kept them locked away in his Smoking Room, where friends were encouraged to admire and even handle them, over glasses of port.
Opportunities for such intimacy, of course, have long gone, but a new permanent display of these tiny treasures in a vault-like space that has been commandeered from servants’ quarters in the eaves, offers a close second. A handful have been displayed at Waddesdon before, decorating various side tables or corner cabinets throughout the house, though their artistry would have been utterly eclipsed by the Louis Seize furniture and 18th-century oils looming above.
Be prepared: the new space is very small, as you would expect with a maid’s room. It has been designed, at the current Lord Rothschild’s behest, to resemble the Schatzkammers – or “treasure rooms” – that were all the rage in European Courts of the 16th century. The intricately wrought entrance gate, low-barrel ceiling and softly lit, glass-enclosed display have the feel of a walk-in safe.
The objects are presented in clusters, with an appealing sense of serendipitous accumulation rather than regimented display. None is labelled, though masses of information for each has been loaded onto Smartify, an image-recognition app that allows you to scan, read about and save artworks as you move around a gallery or museum (printed guides are also available on request). On this, I’m conflicted, because while the lack of text might encourage a more engaged study of each piece, I dread the thought of every visitor to the space (the ideal number is between 10 and 15) brandishing phones in mid-air.
The thing is, you absolutely need to read about the provenance of the objects, because in this respect the Rothschild collection, which was added to over several generations by members of the family all over Europe – different branches even bid against each other at auction – is pin-sharp. Ferdinand in particular was driven by “association” – the connection to history afforded by each piece (unlike his father, Anselm, who paid by weight).
So, there is a gold box that belonged to Madame de Pompadour, chief mistress of Louis XV (it depicts her dogs, Mimi and Bebe); dishes and amulets from archaeological digs in Palestine and Egypt; ivory that was “turned” by the delicate fingers of the princes at Versailles and precisely described in the Revolutionaries’ inventory of the palace in 1795. (Bizarrely, the skill was considered necessary for a royal education).
There are snuff boxes and nécessaires – small cases for your tweezers, ear scoops (yep) and the like – that still bear signs of use. Sewing kits, letter openers (by Fabergé, no less) and a pair of cannon automata, which would have been set on the table after dinner to trundle up and down, firing smoke. A group of 16th-century Limoges enamels – on which fanciful creatures skitter in glossily translucent verdigris and deep blue – are an unqualified delight; a midget reliquary shaped like a book still bears its Nazi catalogue number from when the vaults of the Rothschilds’ Paris mansion were ransacked in 1941.
Near the start is a hulking, gaudily-encrusted bracelet given to Alice de Rothschild (1847-1922) by Queen Victoria. The two were great pals. Alice named her house in Grasse, on the French Riviera, the Villa Victoria, though it didn’t stop her reprimanding the Queen for lumbering her pony across the grass.
It’s stories such as these that make the Treasury – small as it is – entertaining. That and knowing that the items on display have been held by, or sat on the dressers and tables of, so many important historical figures. To think about the events each object has witnessed; the conversations each has been privy to, is giddy-making.
From Sept 7 – Oct 27 and from March 2020, Wed-Sun only. Tickets: 01296 820414; waddesdon.org.uk
