From MINER MAJOR to ART millionaire
As the Chester Beatty library celebrates 20 years in Dublin Castle, we trace the great man’s progress
TWENTY years ago, on February 7,2000, one of the world’s greatest treasure troves opened its doors to the public in Dublin Castle. The Chester Beatty library had relocated from Shrewsbury Road, Ballsbridge, to the more secure and historically appropriate castle. The move cost the State over IR£11.5million.
Considering the library has a dazzling array of manuscripts, prints, books and objets d’art dating from 2,700BC – and was given to us for free – the few bob to relocate it was worth it. At Shrewsbury Road, less than 1% of the collection was shown at any one time and visitors numbered 6,000 a year. The move to the castle increased footfall to 350,000.
While the library stands alone on its own merit, the story of the man behind it is equally compelling...
The year is 1888, and New York is fizzing into life as one of the world’s great cities. A dark-haired, sturdy schoolboy, in knickerbockers and a baker boy cap, is scrabbling in the muck. He is searching for mineral samples on the site where tunnels are being driven to carry water to the New Croton Aqueduct. The unwholesome Hudson River hums past and later, before dark, he hurries home, muddied, pockets full of rocks, to be chided by his parents for ruining the drawing room rugs. But they know that their strong-willed son, Chester, has his mind set on digging in the dirt – and there is little they can do about it.
SIR Alfred Chester Beatty was born in New York on February 7, 1875 – 145 years ago today. His parents, John Cuming Beatty and Hetty Bull, were of Irish (Armagh and Laois) and English colonial stock respectively. He was named after a relative, the Reverend Alfred Chester, but disliked the name Alfred and was always known as Chester or Chet.
Apart from his name, the reverend bestowed something else on the young man – his love of collecting. Chester recalled the cleric ‘had a mania for collecting minerals, curios, tiny chips of rock from the Pyramids... samples of lead and copper ore… and probably this fired my enthusiasm’.
This enthusiasm would see him ultimately enrol at the Columbia University School of Mines where, in 1898, he received his degree with an average 91% in his final exam. He had taken his first step to becoming a multi-millionaire.
Although Chester’s family was well-off – his father was a stockbroker and banker – he turned down an allowance and gamely headed West with a one-way ticket, landing in Denver, Colorado with $200 and the promise of a job. The job didn’t materialise but he was determined to succeed and got work as a ‘mucker’, shovelling rock at Kekionga Gold Mine earning 25 cents an hour.
It was hard work and entailed sharing the camp bunkhouse with an assortment of roughnecks and chancers. Chester was a diamond in the rough though, and worked his way up to foreman, supervisor, mine manager, mine owner...
To put this achievement in context, the West was wild, but life in the mines was doubly dangerous. A miner had to stake their claim and the work took a lot of courage. Despite his privileged background, Chester was a tough hombre. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, carried six-guns and had a revolver in his boot. He could look after himself, and was well rewarded for his tenacity, becoming a millionaire by the age of 32.
In 1900 he was introduced to a beautiful, sallow-skinned woman, Grace ‘Ninette’ Rickard, and they fell in love and married. Everything was falling into place for the confident young adventurer.
In 1903 he was made assistant chief engineer with the Guggenheim Exploration Company (GEC), with a salary of $20,000 and the chance to travel around North America and Mexico, dodging bandits and snakes.
Five years later, having gained a reputation (and a lot of money), he struck out on his own, opening an office in New York and setting up home on the fashionable East Side. Life was very comfortable for the young family – they had servants, two cars and a chauffeur on call. That said, it must have been sometimes lonely for Ninette as Chet travelled so much.
In 1911, tragedy struck. Ninette died of typhoid fever, leaving him with two young children – Ninette Jr, ten, and Alfred Chester Jr, four. On top of his grief, Chester’s own health was poor from working in the mines and he was diagnosed with silicosis of the lungs.
The following year, he moved to London with his children and, unexpectedly, fell in love again. On June 21, 1913 he married New Yorker Edith Dunn and the family bought a mansion in Kensington Palace Gardens. They became members of London society, and set out to travel the globe. It was on one family trip to Egypt in 1914 that Chester became enthralled with Islamic culture and, in particular, copies of the Koran. The family wintered there until the outbreak of World War II, enjoying the sun and collecting precious items.
While 1914 was a bad year for the rest of the world, with the start of World War I, it saw Chester flourish. That December, he founded Selection Trust in London which had mining interests from Russia to the Gold Coast. He continued to amass vast sums of money, and add to his collection. However, his charmed life almost came to an end in 1917 when he contracted pneumonia and Spanish flu. But doughty Chester rallied, and took his doctors’ advice to head to warmer climes to recover.
Ignoring the war that was still raging in Europe, the family took off on a world cruise – portside out and starboard home (POSH) – spending four months in Japan and travelling to China. Chester had a fascination with Oriental art – in particular snuff bottles – and his travels just added to his voracious appetite for collecting. He returned from every trip with exquisite pieces and once said: ‘It is no good keeping things that are not first class.’ These ‘things’ are now at home in Dublin Castle.
‘Copper King’ Chester had now become one of the wealthiest men in Britain and, in 1933, he became a naturalised UK citizen, proving to be a great asset for the allies during WWII, in trade and other areas. He was a friend of Winston Churchill and widely respected in the UK as a discerning collector and philanthropist.
However, after Labour’s victory in 1945, Chester grew disillusioned and in 1950 he relocated to Dublin, bringing his 35-tonne collection with him. He was frustrated with Britain’s heavy taxation and foreign currency restriction. He was also 74 by then and wanted to make long-term plans for his beloved collection.
He told a newspaper, ‘It will be pleasanter to drink a glass of Irish beer in a Dublin garden than to spend the rest of my life buying fountain pens and filling in forms [in the UK]’.
‘Ireland is the best country in which to retire. The country has atmosphere. The people have so much charm,’ he said.
His move to Ireland caused a sensation in Britain, as it was feared other industrialists might follow him. It was for this reason the Irish State bent over backwards to accommodate him. Rules were glossed over and he received special treatment – exemption from foreign exchange regulations and the waiving of import taxes on purchases for his library.
THIS was a very good deal all around: Chester usually travelled with at least $10,000 while the limit was 60 guineas. He also got an exemption from estate duties for his books and library property. As a result, Ireland got his library, his patronage of the National Gallery and the Curragh’s Military Museum, as well as thousands of pounds in charitable donations. Despite him putting roots down here, there was still a tit-for-tat wooing of Mr Beatty in the Fifties, with Britain giving him a knighthood in 1954 – and Ireland replying by making him our first honorary citizen in 1957. This was where his heart belonged though. He regularly picnicked with President Seán T O’Kelly and was the darling of the Irish media, who described him as ‘generous’, ‘friendly’ and ‘good-humoured’.
When Chester died aged 92 in Monte Carlo, on January 19, 1968, the London Times said: ‘The world has lost one of its most romantic characters.’
He was given a State funeral here, unprecedented for a private citizen. President Éamon de Valera and Taoiseach Jack Lynch were in attendance – the first time they entered a Protestant church in their official capacities. You can only imagine Dev laughing up his sleeve at having secured a home for Chester and his trove at the expense of the Auld Enemy.
Ancient treasures, Anglo-Irish rivalry and State funerals today seem like a far cry from a boy scrabbling in the New York mud. But, as they say – and Chester knew well – where there’s muck, there’s money…