Prince's Tower: Jersey's Lost Landmark
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Prince’s Tower: Jersey’s Lost Landmark by Paul Darroch
Strange to say, one of the most iconic monuments in Jersey’s history no longer exists. Prince’s Tower was once a spectacular landmark, a fairytale Gothic castle as flamboyant as that in any modern theme park. It stood boldly atop the ancient burial mound of La Hougue Bie in Grouville, soaring high above the medieval chapels that formed its foundation. The view from its turrets was reputedly stunning, with breath-taking panoramic views of the whole Island and the French coast beyond.
Throngs of visitors paid sixpence each to climb to the very top of the tower, and Victorian guidebooks advised that it was worth every penny. In the nineteenth century, crowds sipped champagne in the pleasure gardens below, or visited the bowling-alley, or admired the peacocks that strolled in the grounds. Yet the story of how this strange Jersey folly came to be built is a curious one indeed.
Philippe d’Auvergne, the Prince behind the Tower, was a mercurial, eccentric Jerseyman, born with adventure in his blood. By a curious series of events, he managed to talk his way into an astonishing inheritance. He somehow convinced the ageing Duc de Bouillon, whose rich ancestral enclave nestled by the French border, to anoint him as son and heir.
La Hougue Bie had long been a place of legend and mystery; some said a dragon still slumbered there, buried deep within the mound. What better spot for a would-be Prince to build his castle? It certainly embodied both his dreams of greatness, and the popular Gothic fashion of the time.
As a British spymaster during the French wars of revolution, Philippe manipulated a web of intrigue from his eccentric folly. Flags atop the tower secretly signalled to agents on the Normandy coast. Yet Philippe would never be crowned; his dreams were denied by the shifting sands of European politics. This would-be Prince died alone and bereft in a London hotel.
After his death, the Tower soon became a tourist attraction. Gothic arches beckoned visitors into the chapel, whose floor was patterned with black and white tiles, like some cosmic chessboard. Further inside, a brace of leather-bound tomes graced a library, and pig-skin chairs stood in a regal dining room. The intended impression was of no mere folly, or leaky summer-house, but a baron’s stronghold, a mighty fortress of old.
We can imagine the view that must have greeted a curious visitor in Queen Victoria’s day. Jersey stretches around us like a carpet at our feet. We can see almost the entire Island, and feel as if we are floating high above the sea, tethered to a tiny green pleasure-garden.
We drink in a seagull’s-eye view, stretching across the parishes to the heights of St Peter’s Plain in the west. Thick cider orchards cloak every hill and valley. Beneath lie the meadows and mills of Queen’s Valley, and the brute hulk of Mont Orgueil. We watch the steam-trains of the new Jersey Eastern Railway snaking up the coast from Snow Hill. Beyond, the French coastline shimmers, and the spires of Coutances cathedral glisten like needles on the horizon. The view is sublime.
So, what became of the Prince’s gorgeous, madcap fantasia? Rainfall wore down the lime mortar, and parts of its lead roof sheared off. Fashions changed, and as the Victorian era passed, so did its passion for the flamboyant and the Gothic. The building had become a sad embarrassment for the learned antiquarians of the Société Jersiaise, who longed to restore the chapels to their original form. False reports were spread that the structure was in danger of imminent collapse.
Eventually, one of the most precious and unique monuments in Jersey was demolished, cast down without pity. Jersey lost one of its irreplaceable jewels. Only its name still lingers on, captured only in a road name, in antique paintings and in the folk memory of our Island. Prince’s Tower has passed now beyond living memory, deep into the realm of history. In the words of Shelley, “Nothing beside remains”.
Paul Darroch tells the story of Philippe d’Auvergne in Jersey: The Hidden Histories, which charts a panoramic journey through the turbulent life and times of our beautiful Island. The book is available throughout Jersey and on Amazon in Kindle and Seaflower paperback.
(c) Paul Darroch 2021
