The Hidden Beauty of Chapelle Sainte-Élisabeth:
Medieval Frescoes on the Edge of Vence

Across France, most villages, towns, and cities have a scattering of small chapels on their outskirts, often standing beside the old roads that once linked the community to the wider world. Even tiny mountain villages may have four or five of these modest chapels. Though they are almost always small, simple, and plain, they once played an important role in the religious life of local communities.

These chapels were placed along the outlying roads for a reason: to guard the town or village against the dangers that might arrive from beyond its borders. Roads brought travelers, merchants, pilgrims, and news, but they could also bring thieves, disease, unrest, and other threats. These little chapels stood as spiritual sentinels at the edges of the community, marking the point where the familiar life of the village met the uncertainty, perils, and corruption of the outside world.

In Vence, there was at least one chapel on every road leading into the town, and in some cases two or three. On the road to Saint-Jeannet stood the Chapelle Sainte-Colombe. On the road to Coursegoules stood the Chapelle des Pénitents Blancs and the Chapelle Saint-Crépin. On the road to Cagnes-sur-Mer stood the Chapelle des Pénitents Noirs and the Chapelle Saint-Pons. On the road to Saint-Paul-de-Vence stood the Chapelle Sainte-Anne. At the crossroads of the road to Cagnes-sur-Mer and another road to Saint-Paul-de-Vence stood the Chapelle Sainte-Élisabeth. Together, these chapels formed a kind of spiritual rampart encircling the town, protecting its inhabitants from both visible and unseen dangers. To the people of Vence, these small chapels were thought to offer as much protection, perhaps even more, than the high stone walls that encircled the town itself.

These chapels served another purpose as well. For those leaving town, they were often the last familiar landmark, the final reminder of home before the road carried them into the great unknown. A traveler might stop there to pray, seek protection, or simply take comfort in the presence of a saint who watched over the people of Vence.

For those returning from a journey, the chapel offered the opposite experience. It was the first sign that home was near. After days, weeks, or months on the road, the sight of that small building beside the path must have been deeply reassuring: the town was close, family and friends were almost within reach, and the traveler was once again among familiar landmarks.

The Painted Chapels of the Alpes-Maritimes

At first glance, the Saint Elizabeth Chapel seems plain: a small rural sanctuary with a porch, a nave covered by a barrel vault, a flat-ended sanctuary, and a modest bell tower. But inside, it preserves the most remarkable painted interior in Vence. Its late-medieval wall paintings, long hidden beneath layers of whitewash and rediscovered in the early 20th century, connect the chapel to the rich tradition of painted chapels in the Alpes-Maritimes.

These painted chapels of the Alpes-Maritimes are not unique; medieval wall paintings can be found in churches and chapels throughout France. Many regions preserve examples of Romanesque and Gothic mural painting, from great abbey churches to small rural sanctuaries. What makes the Alpes-Maritimes so remarkable is the number of these chapels gathered within a relatively small area, and the distinctive character they often share. Many are modest buildings, set just outside village centers, beside old roads, near mountain paths, or at the edge of cultivated land. From the outside, they can appear simple, even plain. But inside, they open into vivid worlds of saints, angels, demons, biblical stories, moral lessons, and scenes of judgment and salvation, all painted for the people who once prayed, rested, worked, and passed by them. In all, there are over twenty of these painted chapels spread throughout the Alpes-Maritimes department, most dating from the 15th and 16th centuries. Saint Elizabeth belongs to this wider family of painted chapels, alongside better-known examples at La Brigue, Venanson, Saint-Étienne-de-Tinée, Cagnes-sur-Mer, Lucéram, and elsewhere.

In the Middle Ages, frescoes and wall paintings were not simply decoration. They were not built to be museums, or simply admired in silence as works of art. In rural settings, where many people could not read, painted images helped explain the stories, beliefs, and moral lessons of Christianity. These images offered a vivid lesson in faith, sin, salvation, and divine judgment to those who entered the chapel. Scenes of Christ, the Virgin Mary, saints, angels, demons, heaven, hell, virtues, and sins created a kind of visual teaching tool. They reminded worshippers what to believe, how to behave, and what was at stake in the Christian view of life and death.

This tradition also reflects the region’s unique geographical position. The Alpes-Maritimes stood between Provence, Liguria, and Piedmont, and its artists, patrons, merchants, and pilgrims moved across borders that were far more fluid than they are today. Painters such as Jacques Canavesi, André de Cella, and Giovanni Baleison belonged to this southern Alpine world, where Gothic forms, popular devotion, and local religious life came together in small chapels scattered through the hills. In that sense, the painted chapels of the Alpes-Maritimes are not isolated curiosities. They form one of the most distinctive artistic legacies of the southern Alps, and the Saint Elizabeth Chapel is one of the region’s most precious examples of that tradition.

Chapelle Sainte-Elisabeth (Saint Elizabeth Chapel)

Located in the Cayrons district of Vence at the intersection of two modern roads, the Saint Elizabeth Chapel is one of those small rural chapels that can easily be overlooked, especially today. It once stood in the open countryside, at the crossroads of two old roads that connected Vence to Cagnes-sur-Mer and Saint-Paul-de-Vence. Now it is surrounded by roads, houses, garden walls, and modern traffic.

If you pause for a moment and look more closely, it becomes clear that this modest building holds a distinctive place in the Vence landscape. It stands on a broad shelf of exposed rock, slightly raised above the surrounding countryside. That position was surely no accident. The rocky outcrop gives the chapel a sense of separation, permanence, and quiet importance, making it a natural setting for a small rural chapel.

In earlier centuries, certain places in the landscape naturally invited religious meaning: high ground, rocky outcrops, springs, groves, and crossroads. Across the ancient world, Greeks, Romans, and early Christians often chose such sites for worship, prayer, or devotion, especially when they already seemed set apart from ordinary surroundings. While there is no firm evidence that earlier cultures used this particular rock before the Saint Elizabeth Chapel was built, it is easy to understand why such a place might have drawn religious attention. Raised above the surrounding countryside, solid, visible, and slightly apart, it already had the qualities of a meaningful place.

For Christian builders, the symbolism of such a site would have been obvious. In the Bible, rock is repeatedly associated with strength, refuge, and divine protection: “The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer” (Psalm 18:2). Christ himself speaks of the wise man who “built his house upon a rock” (Matthew 7:24). Whether or not this particular outcrop had been used for worship before, its physical character made it a fitting place for a chapel.

Origins of the Saint Elizabeth Chapel

The origins of the Saint Elizabeth Chapel are still somewhat mysterious. Its construction cannot be dated with absolute certainty, and different sources give different possibilities. Some local accounts suggest that the chapel may date from the 14th century, or even from the end of the 13th century, based on its Romanesque character, the shape of its entrance arch, and other architectural details. In his 1934 book, Vence et Ses Monuments, the noted Vence historian Jacques Daurelle maintained the chapel dated to the end of the 13th century or the beginning of the 14th century. The official Monument Historique notice, however, places the main phase of construction in the final quarter of the 15th century. What is certain is that the chapel existed by January 1491, when Jacques Canavesi, a painter from Turin who had settled in the region, was commissioned to decorate it with a cycle of wall and ceiling paintings.

A close examination of the chapel’s structure shows that the building has changed gradually over the centuries. Four main phases of construction can be confidently identified. The first was the original construction. This was followed by a second phase of work, the date of which also remains uncertain. A third phase most likely took place in the late 18th or early 19th century. The fourth phase represents the chapel as it stands today, only slightly altered from that previous state.

The chapel was inscribed as a Monument Historique on January 24, 1927.

The 1491 Deed

Many similar chapels in the Alpes-Maritimes can be dated, at least approximately, by the frescoes preserved inside them. Unfortunately, the frescoes in the Saint Elizabeth Chapel are neither dated nor signed, leaving no direct inscription to identify when they were painted or by whom. There is, however, a deed dated January 13, 1491, which has traditionally been linked to the chapel and its decorations. This Latin document was drawn up by Honorat Curti, a notary in Vence, and was later transcribed by J. Brès in his 1911 art-historical study, Questioni d’arte regionale: studio critico: altre notizie inedite sui pittori nicesi (Questions of Regional Art: A Critical Study, with Further Unpublished Information on Niçois Painters). It reads, in part:

“Agreement concluded between the venerable lord Vitalis, beneficed cleric of the Church of Vence, and the honorable master Jacques Canavesi, painter of the diocese of Turin. (…) The aforesaid master Jacques Canavesi, painter, shall paint and make for the said lord Bartholomew Vitalis an altarpiece for the chapel that Lord Vitalis has built and erected in the territory of the said city, in the district called Cayrons. Also, the aforesaid master Jacques Canavesi shall paint the aforesaid chapel. On one side he shall paint God the Father with four Doctors, Paradise and Hell, the seven deadly sins, and the appropriate attributes. In addition, beside the said altarpiece, he shall paint, on one side, an image of the blessed Anthony, and on the other, an image of the blessed Bernard. On another side, he shall paint the images of the blessed Christopher and the blessed Bernard with the depiction of the Demon; on the upper part, where the sky is, there shall appear the Annunciation of God with a dove, and a sky painted blue and strewn with stars.”

The deed provides a remarkably precise description of the work Jacques Canavesi was commissioned to carry out. While it does not mention the Saint Elizabeth Chapel by name, it does refer to a chapel built by Bartholomew Vitalis in the territory of Vence, in the district called Cayrons. This detail has traditionally allowed the document to be linked with the Saint Elizabeth Chapel.

The deed also tells us something important about the chapel’s origins. Bartholomew Vitalis was a beneficed cleric of the Church of Vence, meaning that he held an endowed ecclesiastical position that provided him with an income. He appears to have been the founder or patron of the chapel, since the document says that he had “built and erected” it, and that he commissioned both an altarpiece and the painted decoration of the interior. This was not unusual for the period. From the 14th century onward, many rural chapels in the Alpes-Maritimes were financed or endowed by members of the clergy, either as acts of devotion, as charitable foundations, or as a way of strengthening religious life in the surrounding countryside.

We should be careful, however, about how we understand the terms “built” and “erected.” A notarial contract might have used these words in a broad sense. Vitalis may indeed have had the chapel built from scratch, but it is also possible that he rebuilt an older chapel, enlarged or restored an existing structure, or adapted an earlier building for religious use. Because he financed the work, he could have been described as the chapel’s “builder” in any of these circumstances. Without a careful study of the building itself, we cannot know whether this was a completely new foundation or part of a more complex history of construction, rebuilding, and adaptation.

Although the deed does not specify how the chapel was used after its completion, a chapel of this kind would obviously have been built for prayer and devotion. It may have served the personal religious life of the founder alone, the needs of those connected with him, or the spiritual life of the wider local community.

The list of subjects to be painted is unusually detailed. Canavesi was instructed to paint God the Father, the four Doctors of the Church, Paradise and Hell, the seven deadly sins, Saint Anthony, Saint Bernard, Saint Christopher, the Demon, and the Annunciation, together with a blue, star-filled sky.

Because of a few discrepancies, some historians have questioned whether this deed does, in fact, refer to the Saint Elizabeth Chapel. The document calls for an altarpiece, yet there is no record of one ever having been part of the chapel. It is possible that the altarpiece was never made, or that it was later removed, stolen, or discarded.

There are also differences between the frescoes described in the deed and those visible in the chapel today. Paradise and Hell, the deadly sins and virtues, and the four Doctors of the Church are all present. However, there is no surviving representation of the Annunciation or of Saints Christopher, Anthony, or Bernard, even though these were clearly requested by Vitalis. At the same time, several scenes now visible in the chapel are not mentioned in the deed, including Christ surrounded by the Apostles and the prophets and kings of the Old Testament.

Despite these discrepancies, the deed is still generally understood to refer to the Saint Elizabeth Chapel. The geographical reference to the district of Cayrons points strongly to this site, and no other known chapel in this part of Vence from this period offers a more convincing match. Enough of the painted program also corresponds to the surviving frescoes to make the connection persuasive, as perhaps the chapel’s decoration was altered, left incomplete, or changed over time.

Surrounding Property

The lands around the Saint Elizabeth Chapel once belonged to the bishop of Vence and helped pay for the chapel’s upkeep. Since the Church could not farm them directly, it leased them to a local farmer or neighbor who farmed them for his own benefit. Part of the income, or part of his obligation as tenant, went toward preserving the chapel and paying for Masses. It was a practical system: the Church retained ownership, the local tenant used the land, and the chapel received support. This system was old, perhaps dating back to the 14th century. Today, however, we no longer know exactly what lands belonged to the chapel, because they were gradually absorbed by private owners or seized by the state during the Revolution and again after the 1905 law separating Church and State.

Pastoral Visits

The Saint Elizabeth Chapel does not appear in the church archives for several hundred years, until the end of the 17th century. At that time, pastoral visits were an important part of the bishop’s oversight of his diocese. By visiting or sending representatives to visit the parishes, institutions, and properties under his authority, the bishop did more than simply inspect them. He reaffirmed his authority, checked that religious life was being properly conducted, and ensured that the reforms ordered by the Council of Trent were being applied.

In the case of a chapel, this meant inspecting the building itself and confirming that the conditions of any lease or obligation attached to it were being respected. Records survive of at least two such pastoral visits that mention the Saint Elizabeth Chapel by name. Each report notes that the chapel was in need of repair. These records are especially valuable because they also tell us that, by this time, the frescoes were damaged and that a painting had been placed above the altar.

The most important of these pastoral visits was conducted in 1716 by Bishop Flodoard Moret de Bourchenu. The surviving ordinance is written in his name and refers to the report drawn up “by us” during “our visit,” although, as was customary, he was accompanied by clergy and assisted by a notary or clerk in recording and publishing the results. The chapel is described as lying on the road to Saint-Paul, about a quarter-league from Vence, among fields and bastides. The portion regarding the Saint Elizabeth chapel reads as follows:

“We inquired about the condition of the said chapel, its revenues, when it had been built, the devotion people had for it, and the worship that was carried out there. We were told that no one knew when it had been built, but that it was believed to have been restored in 1624. Formerly there was a piece of land belonging to it, situated in front of it, with the road between the two, on the east side. It had been given by Sieur Clemes, priest and vicar of Saint-Paul, who had bought it in order to endow the chapel. It may have been worth 150 livres. The arrears of the taille consumed the price and value of the said land more than thirty years ago. It is now possessed by the heirs of André Dalmassi.

“The chapel is very neglected. The altar table is made of dressed stone. There is no altar stone, no altar frontal. On the step, which is made of plaster, there are two wooden candlesticks, very crude, and a black wooden cross without a crucifix. The front of the said step is painted with various figures of female saints whose names are written above them. These figures need to be retouched.

“The mystery of the Visitation has been painted on the wall, with ornaments on either side to represent a painting with its frame. On both sides of this painting, and outside the altar, Saint Peter and Saint Paul have been painted in large format. It appears that the vault and the walls were painted with various figures and representations. Everything is now almost erased. The paintings would either have to be restored, or the walls and vault whitewashed.

“The roof needs to be repaired. There is a fore-chapel whose sides are closed by walls at support height. The front is completely open. The roof of this fore-chapel is in poor condition. Several pieces of wood are damaged and rotten. The paving of the chapel, which is only a layer of plaster, needs to be repaired, especially near the door.

“The holy-water font is made of hollowed hard stone and lacks a base. This chapel used to be open. It is only about a month since care has been taken to keep it closed. Mass has not been said there for several years. The walls of the chapel are sound. A few stones are missing from the stone bench in the fore-chapel, along the side walls.

“The landowners in the neighborhood asked us to allow Mass to be said there during the summer, because people stay in their country houses at that time to guard the harvest and the fruit. They told us that they would carry out the necessary repairs. They have already had lime and sand brought near the building. They said that they would contribute among themselves to create a fund for repairing it. Sieurs Baud, Vaquier, and de Guigues undertook to collect the alms and donations of those who wished to contribute to this good work. We urged them to take the necessary steps and care as soon as possible to put this good work into effect, so that the chapel might be placed in a decent and proper condition, with altar cloths, an altar stone, a cross, candlesticks, and an altar frontal. And when all these preliminaries have been fulfilled, we shall then be able to allow Mass to be celebrated there. It was placed under interdict in 1699.”

This 1716 description is especially useful because it shows the chapel before later restorations. It mentions a fore-chapel with low side walls, an open front, a roof in bad condition, a stone bench along the sides, a simple plaster floor, and a stone holy-water basin lacking its base. The same report says the chapel walls themselves were sound, but the roof, porch timbers, paving, furnishings, and liturgical equipment were badly neglected. It had no sacred altar stone, no proper altar frontal, poor candlesticks, a black wooden cross without a crucifix, damaged roofing, and worn or nearly effaced paintings.

Significantly, it also says that the vault and walls had once been painted with various figures and scenes, but that almost everything had already been erased. Most importantly, the report suggested that the paintings on the altar step, walls, and vault should either be repaired or completely erased, and the chapel whitewashed. This helps explain why the medieval frescoes later disappeared under whitewash, though it does not prove exactly when the whitewashing was carried out.

The same 1716 source says the chapel had been interdicted in 1699, meaning Mass could not be celebrated there until necessary repairs and proper liturgical furnishings were supplied. It also records that people did not know when the chapel had originally been built, but believed it had been restored in 1624. The neighbors specifically asked permission at that time to hold Mass there in the summer, when they stayed in their country houses to guard the crops and fruit.

The French Revolution

The French Revolution was marked by the seizure, destruction, and looting of many church buildings and properties. Across France, hostility toward the Church grew as many people came to see it as too powerful, too wealthy, and too closely tied to the old order. Vence experienced its own share of this upheaval. Almost all of the silver and gold liturgical objects from the cathedral, including chalices, ciboria, candlesticks, and other liturgical vessels, were sent to the Paris mint to be melted down and used to help finance the Revolution. In fact, an inventory shows that 71 items weighing 55 kilograms were collected in Vence and sent to Grasse, which served as a regional depot for precious metals before they were transferred to Paris for melting.

The Saint Elizabeth chapel did not escape these misfortunes. With the exception of a small altar cross, all of its liturgical objects disappeared. The altar was destroyed, the building was sold, and for many years the former chapel served as a small barn. It is possible that if an altarpiece once existed (as mentioned in the 1491 deed), it was destroyed at this time.

The chapel was appraised by several “experts” during the Revolution and their reports remain in the archives. On February 24, 1794, Jacques Bérenger wrote the following:

“On the 16th of Ventôse, Year 2 (February 24, 1794) of the one and indivisible Republic, I, Jacques Bérenger, having received the mission from the administrators of the district of Grasse to appraise the Sainte-Elisabeth Chapel, visited the site and noted that this chapel is bordered to the east by the road leading from Vence to Cagnes and Nice, and to the west and north by another road leading to Saint-Paul. The porch measures 5 meters in length, and the chapel measures 5 meters and 8 1/4 decimeters. The width is 4 meters and 1/4 decimeter. The porch gate is in poor condition, and the roof tiles are broken.

“Given that this chapel is located at the intersection of several roads, the neighbors suggested it should be rented, as it could only serve as a shelter for storing olive wood. It could not be rented for more than 3 francs. We believe that only a nearby neighbor would be interested in purchasing it. We also estimate that its value would be no more than 36 francs.

“This chapel and its porch serve as shelter for travelers.”

Later that same year, on July 27, 1794, the chapel was appraised for a second time, this time by four individuals: Emmanuel Maurel, Antoine Bérenger, Pierre Martin, and J.-B. Michel, who were said to be experts on national properties. They valued the property more than Jacques Bérenger did, assigning it a value of 120 livres, equivalent to 119 francs. They noted that it “measured 15 cannes, bordered to the east by the road, to the south by J.-B. Dominique Guéraud, and to the west and north by the road.”

The chapel was sold to this Guéraud on September 24, 1794, for 560 francs. However, it appears that Guérand never paid for his purchase, and the chapel was repossessed on August 18, 1800. The chapel was eventually returned to the Church following the Concordat of 1801, and for over one hundred years, no notable disputes arose over it. Daurelle writes that, “It was consistently used for regular masses on July 2nd and November 2nd. The 1834 cadastre recorded it as a religious property under number 587, section F (quartier des Cayrons), with an area of 58 centiares.”

Records indicate that Lambert-Jean-Baptiste Gayraud and his wife, née Bourrély, residents of Tourrettes-sur-Loup, inherited the chapel after the death of his brother, Jean-Jacques Gayraud, in 1898.

The 1905 Law on the Separation of Churches and the State

The Law of Separation of Churches and State, passed in France on December 9, 1905, marked a major turning point in French history. It formally ended the long-standing official relationship between the French state and the Catholic Church, while also guaranteeing freedom of conscience and religious practice. From this point onward, the Republic no longer recognized, paid, or subsidized any religion. The law became the foundation of modern French secularism, known as laïcité, and had a profound effect on churches, chapels, religious property, and public life throughout France.

Much of the Church’s property and many of its possessions were either sold to private individuals or requisitioned by the state. The Saint Elizabeth Chapel was no exception. An appraiser named M. de Saint-Ferréol was appointed by the authorities to draw up an inventory of the chapel’s furnishings. His list included:

Entrance holy-water font, sealed stone
Masonry altar
One framed painting
One altar cloth
Altar cross
Six candlesticks
Eight vases
One lamp on a sealed support
Two white-wood benches
One chair
One bell
Two iron crosses, one above the entrance, the other on the bell tower

In 1909, the chapel was sold to a local family who appeared to have been primarily interested in the land surrounding it. Mrs. Barrière, the wife of Élysée Blain, purchased the chapel and the land surrounding it from Lambert-Jean-Baptiste Gayraud and his wife on January 19, 1909. The act was recorded by a notary in Vence, Maître Hugues. Interestingly enough, the document makes no mention of the chapel; it only describes the property as “a rural property located in Vence in the Sainte-Elisabeth district, sold to Mme Barrière, wife of Élysée Blain, for the sum of eight hundred francs.” It appears they continued to allow the chapel to be used for religious services.

The 1924 Sale and Restorations

By the early 20th century, the Chapelle Sainte-Élisabeth had survived a long period of neglect. It had already been described as being in very poor condition as early as 1716, and had even been interdicted in 1699. A turning point came in 1924, when the chapel was sold and subsequently renovated with private funds. Mrs. Constance Mary Bundi, the wife of Mr. George-Joseph Morgan, purchased the property from Mrs. Barrière on January 21, 1924, for the sum of 50,000 francs. The sale was recorded by Notary Hughes in Vence, and the contract specified that the “under the essential condition that this chapel shall always remain dedicated to Roman Catholic worship under the same customary conditions.”

Jacques Daurelle wrote in 1934 that: “The frescoes of the Sainte-Elizabeth Chapel are undoubtedly the most beautiful and precious remnants in the territory of Vence. Architect Mr. Morisson discovered them by chance in 1924 while repairing this building that Mr. and Mrs. Morgan, our English hosts, had just acquired from Mr. Blain, the cathedral sacristan.” Daurelle went on to lament the style of the bell-tower, saying, “Its four basket-handle-shaped openings with protruding moldings and its mushroom-shaped dome clash with the moving simplicity of the chapel.”

During this work, the medieval frescoes, long hidden beneath whitewash, were rediscovered. A small plaque, written in Latin and placed behind the altar and to the left, commemorates this work. It can be translated as:

“The Most Illustrious and Reverend Lord L. M. Ricard, Bishop of Nice, Count of Drap, solemnly blessed on the feast of St. George, patron saint of England, the very ancient sanctuary of Sainte-Elisabeth, sadly dilapidated but restored thanks to the generosity of the Morgan family, to whom the new altar is also owed, in the year of our Lord 1929, April 23.”

The rediscovery of the frescoes seems to have transformed the chapel’s status: three years later, on January 24, 1927, Sainte-Élisabeth was officially listed as a Monument historique. Later, the chapel was entrusted to the City of Vence, on the condition that it continue to be used exclusively for religious services and worship.

The Porch

Like many chapels built on the outskirts of small towns and villages, the Saint Elizabeth Chapel has a small covered porch attached to its façade. Before entering the chapel itself, visitors step into this shallow arched space, painted in warm Provençal tones, with low stone benches on either side and a cobbled floor underfoot. The porch was not merely decorative. It offered travelers a sheltered place to rest, escape a sudden storm, or even spend the night. At times, it also served a more practical local purpose, providing farmers with a convenient place to store wheat, broad beans, or haricots.

It had a deeper spiritual meaning as well. Before entering the town, a traveler could pause here under the protection of the saint to whom the chapel was dedicated. In this case, Saint Elizabeth served as a kind of sacred guardian, cleansing the stranger of any danger he might carry, whether physical, moral, or spiritual. She might heal the sick, soften the heart of a thief, or lead a wrongdoer to reconsider his actions. The porch was therefore more than a place to rest. It stood between the open road, with all its uncertainties, and the familiar safety of the town.

The entrance to the porch is framed by a pointed arch supported by small projecting stone corbels. Similar architectural details can be seen at the Saint-Crépin Chapel, the bridge of the Prévôté, and the old Bishop’s Palace, suggesting a direct connection with the medieval building traditions of Vence.

The Entrance

The entrance to the Saint Elizabeth Chapel is one of its most distinctive features. Beyond the porch, the chapel is closed not by an ordinary door, but by a large wooden grille set within a rounded arch. The barred screen allows light and air to pass through, and lets visitors glimpse the interior, while still protecting the chapel beyond. A narrow central wicket door provides access without opening the entire screen.

Seen from inside, the grille creates a striking visual threshold. The outside world remains visible, but is held at a distance by the dark vertical bars. Around the entrance, the painted vault and worn devotional furnishings give the space the character of both a protective barrier and a welcoming place. Beside the entrance are a few traditional devotional elements, including a stone holy-water font and a small polychrome statue of a crowned female saint. Although it is tempting to associate this statue with Saint Elizabeth, the chapel’s patron, the figure lacks any clear attribute identifying her as Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist. Her crown and youthful appearance suggest a more generic royal or female saint type.

The Frescoes

As mentioned earlier, the Saint Elizabeth Chapel is divided into two distinct spaces: a covered porch and the chapel itself, separated by a wooden grille. Only the interior of the chapel is decorated with frescoes. Painted on plaster using egg tempera, these paintings clearly belong to two different periods and were created by at least two different artists. The Gothic wall paintings in the nave and on the vault are attributed to Jacques Canavesi, have a distinctly late-medieval character, and are the oldest surviving decoration in the chapel, most likely dating to the 15th century. By contrast, the painted decoration at the eastern end, including the trompe-l’œil retable behind the altar, belongs to a later campaign. Probably dating from the 17th century, it is more Baroque in character, with a different style, technique, and color palette. The artist is unknown.

or reasons that remain unclear, the frescoes seem to have been hidden beneath a layer of whitewash for several centuries. One likely explanation is that they had become so damaged or faded that covering them was considered preferable to leaving them exposed. They were rediscovered in 1924, during the renovation work carried out by the Morgans. At that time, however, some sections judged to be too badly damaged were once again covered over. This has since been corrected, and today all of the chapel’s frescoes are visible, though some remain badly damaged, making it impossible to identify with complete certainty what they originally represented.

The frescoes were classified as protected objects on January 28, 1976.

The Nave

The frescoes are arranged in two main groups, clearly distinguishing the nave from the sanctuary, where the altar stands. This division is marked both visually and physically: on the wall by a painted band of yellow and purple foliage divided into five sections, and on the floor by a step directly beneath the painted band.

The painted band separates the Last Judgment scene in the nave from the quieter series of individual figures in the sanctuary. The contrast is striking: the nave is active and dramatic, while the sanctuary feels calm, ordered, and timeless. This distinction is further emphasized by the different depiction of Christ above each group of paintings.

The painted decorations of the nave are arranged in seven sections, with three on either side of the vault and Christ at the highest point in the center. Unfortunately, this central image has been badly damaged by water infiltration. Enough remains, however, to show that Christ was represented seated on a throne.

Beneath Christ, the composition follows the traditional arrangement of a Last Judgment scene. On the north wall, in the first register, or horizontal band of paintings, are six Apostles, with the Virgin Mary at the far left. On the south wall are the other six Apostles, with Saint John the Baptist at the far right. Mary and John the Baptist occupy higher seats than the Apostles, indicating their special importance. In Last Judgment imagery, they often appear as intercessors, placed close to Christ as figures who plead for humanity. The Apostles themselves are seated in Gothic choir stalls, which may allude to the carved stalls of Vence Cathedral.

Because the frescoes are damaged, most of the Apostles can no longer be identified with certainty. The figures closest to the Virgin and Saint John the Baptist may be Saint Peter and Saint Paul, as in other similar representations. One figure on the north wall is easier to recognize: unlike the others, he is young, beardless, shown in profile, and raises his head toward Christ. This is almost certainly Saint John the Evangelist, traditionally remembered as the Apostle especially close to Christ.

Although much of the painted cycle has faded, some details still reveal the quality of the artist’s work. One face in particular, preserved in the leftmost stall on the south wall, retains much of its original delicacy and gives a sense of how refined these frescoes must once have been.

These upper parts of the nave, showing Christ and the Apostles, are bordered on the west by four angels holding scrolls. These are the angels of the Apocalypse. Although the word “apocalypse” is often associated today with disaster and destruction, its original meaning is “revelation” or “unveiling.” It comes from the Greek word apokalypsis, meaning a disclosure or uncovering of something hidden. This is why the final book of the New Testament is known both as the Book of Revelation and, in older usage, as the Apocalypse. In Christian thought, it refers to the final unveiling of God’s purpose, when Christ returns, and the work of salvation is brought to completion.

Heaven and Hell

In medieval art, the Last Judgment was often presented as a stark division between the saved and the condemned. On one side stand the elect, received into Paradise; on the other, the damned, delivered to the torments of Hell. This opposition continues in the next two registers of the frescoes, painted on opposite sides of the nave.

On the south side of the nave is the representation of Hell. Although this part of the fresco is now badly faded, several details can still be distinguished. Naked human figures appear among the remains of the scene, tormented by demons whose horns, claws, and wings survive only in fragments. Near the center, two enormous horns suggest that this was once the place occupied by Satan.

Beneath this demonic figure, one of the most vivid surviving details remains visible: the face of a man with hollow eyes, clenched fists, and an open mouth, as if crying out for help. Above him is the only complete inscription still preserved in the chapel: Judas. The figure is therefore certainly Judas Iscariot, shown here as a powerful image of betrayal, despair, and damnation.

On the north wall, the Paradise scene is much better preserved. On the left, seven women (some might be children) dressed in white climb a staircase under the protection of three angels. (Daurelle suggests they are “rising from their tombs,” rather than ascending a staircase.) Some hold their hands together in prayer, while others cross them over their chests. At the top of the steps, an angel welcomes one of the women and points her toward the gate of a fortified city.

This city represents the Heavenly Jerusalem, the biblical city of God, and a traditional image of Paradise or Heaven. Within its walls, the saved are gathered in a dense, lively crowd. Men, women, and clerics, some recognizable by the shaved crowns of their heads, fill the space behind the ramparts. Some appear to be speaking with one another, while others pray or raise their hands in blessing.

The seven women on the staircase are best understood as personifications of the Christian virtues, a theme often represented in medieval art through graceful female figures or virgins. They are not meant to be read as ordinary women, but as moral qualities made visible: faith, hope, charity, prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Their upward movement gives the scene its deeper meaning. The staircase becomes a visual image of the path to salvation, showing the Christian soul rising step by step toward Paradise through the practice of virtue and the rejection of sin.

Beneath the Hell scene on the south wall, only a few traces of the lower register remain. The legs of several animals are still visible, although the rest of the scene has largely disappeared. These surviving details suggest that the painting may once have represented what is known in medieval art as a “cavalcade of vices.” In such images, the seven deadly sins are personified as human figures riding animals, each mount helping to express the nature of the sin being shown. Pride, lust, greed, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth were not treated as vague moral failings, but as forces that could take hold of a person and lead the soul toward ruin. Placed opposite the ascent of the virtues, the scene would have created a powerful visual contrast: one path rises toward Paradise, while the other moves downward toward Hell.

Unfortunately, the corresponding lower section on the north wall has been entirely lost, so its original subject can no longer be identified with any real certainty.

The Sanctuary

The frescoes in the sanctuary continue the religious program of the chapel, but with a different emphasis. In the nave, the paintings present the Last Judgment. Christ is placed at the highest and most central point, appearing as the Judge at the end of time. In the sanctuary, the focus shifts to Christ as the Savior, surrounded by the symbolic order of salvation: the prophets before him, the Doctors of the Church after him, and Christ above them all.

In the sanctuary, at the top of the vault, Christ is shown within a mandorla against a starry sky. The image is damaged in places, yet still very recognizable. The mandorla is formed from bands of red, yellow, green, white, and purple, traditionally understood as the different levels of Paradise between the visible heavens and the divine realm. Christ wears a yellow robe and a red mantle lined with green. He is seated on a rainbow, raises his right hand in blessing, and holds what appears to be a globe on his knees.

Unlike the image of Christ in the nave, which presents him as the supreme Judge, the image in the sanctuary shows him as the Savior and the way to eternal life. Here, he is placed between the earthly world and the Kingdom of the Father. His mantle extends across the bands of the mandorla and touches the starry sky, suggesting his passage through the heavens in order to become man and draw humanity toward him. The rainbow recalls the Covenant between God and humankind, now fulfilled through Christ himself and his sacrifice on the cross.

Beneath the image of Christ, both the north and south walls contain large painted sections with two principal figures. On the north wall, the figures are seated at a writing desk. The figure on the left holds an open book and is dressed in the red robes traditionally associated with a cardinal. A lion lies at his feet, an attribute that clearly identifies him as Saint Jerome, the great biblical scholar whose Latin translation of the Bible became the standard text of the medieval Western Church. (In Christian legend, Jerome removed a thorn from a lion’s paw, after which the lion became his faithful companion.) The second figure, now badly faded, points toward the book with his left hand and appears to wear a papal tiara, suggesting that he may be Saint Gregory the Great in conversation with Saint Jerome.

The corresponding section on the south wall is now very difficult to read, but a few details remain visible. As on the north wall, two figures are seated at a writing desk with a Bible between them. Both appear to wear miters, suggesting that they may represent Saint Ambrose and Saint Augustine, the two other great Doctors of the Western Church.

Together, these four figures, identified as Saint Jerome, Saint Gregory the Great, Saint Ambrose, and Saint Augustine, represent the teaching tradition of the Church. They are known as the four great Doctors of the Western Church, theologians whose writings helped shape Christian teaching in the Latin West. In the frescoes, they are shown seated at desks, with Bibles between them. This detail is important: the Bible represents the Word of God, while the four saints represent those who studied, interpreted, taught, and explained Scripture for the Church. Through their writings, preaching, and pastoral work, they helped pass on its meaning to future generations.

Beneath the Doctors of the Church are two matching painted sections, each divided into three panels. Each panel contains a standing male figure shown in three-quarter length. Beginning on the north wall and moving from left to right, the first figure is a long-haired, bearded man. His right hand is raised in blessing with several fingers extended, while his left hand holds a scroll. He wears a red mantle trimmed with ermine and a crown, marking him as a royal figure. It has been speculated that this scroll once bore an inscription that would have identified or explained who this man is.

The second figure is also long-haired and bearded, but his pose is different. He points with his right hand, while his left hand rests on his belt. He wears an elaborate medieval-style hat and turns his eyes upward, as if looking toward the heavens.

The third figure is a beardless young man. Like the first figure, he raises his right hand in blessing and holds a scroll in his left. His posture closely echoes that of the crowned figure at the beginning of the sequence. On his head, he wears a soft, beret-like cap in a medieval style. Again, we find a scroll in his hand that was almost certainly once inscribed.

On the south wall, again moving from left to right, the first figure is badly damaged. Although traces of restoration are visible, the face remains impossible to make out. Even so, several details can still be seen: the figure holds a scroll in his left hand, raises his right hand in blessing, and wears a hat similar in shape to the one worn by Saint Jerome.

The second figure is also heavily faded. Only the main outlines of his clothing, face, and scroll remain visible, apparently because they were painted in a more durable red pigment. A few traces of green pigment also survive. The figure’s hands can still be seen, and enough remains to show that he wore no hat.

The final figure appears to have his hands crossed over his chest, and his face turned upward toward the sky. A scroll is also visible, but the rest of the painting is too damaged to allow any further interpretation.

The main point is that these frescoes present two carefully arranged groups of standing male figures. The clothing, crowns, scrolls, formal poses, blessing gestures, and medieval-style headgear suggest that these are not ordinary men, but symbolic or biblical figures, possibly kings, prophets, or ancestors within a sacred sequence. They almost certainly represent the prophets of the Old Testament.

If we look at the frescoes in the sanctuary as a whole, we see a representation of the History of the Salvation. Together, the three levels evoke the story of salvation before Christ, in Christ, and after Christ. Christ occupies the highest position because he is both the one foretold by the prophets and the one worshipped and interpreted by the Doctors of the Church. Among the Old Testament prophetic figures on the lowest level, only the first figure on the north wall can be identified with confidence: he is almost certainly King David, recognizable by his crown and royal attire. Unfortunately, the inscriptions once written on the scrolls have disappeared, making it impossible to identify the other figures with certainty.

One final note on the frescoes in the sanctuary: beneath the prophets of the Old Testament, on each side, is painted a band of red drapery.

The East Wall

The east wall of the chapel, located behind the altar, contains frescoes and paintings that were clearly created by a different artist in a different time period than those of the nave and sanctuary. Whereas the Gothic frescoes of the nave and sanctuary can definitely be dated to medieval times, those on the east wall are from the Baroque period.

The centerpiece of these paintings is a large portrait of Mary visiting Elizabeth. In fact, it is a faithful depiction of the events described in the Gospel of Luke. Mary is on the right, dressed in blue and clearly younger than Elizabeth, who is on the left, dressed in red. Elizabeth places her right hand on Mary’s arm and her left around Mary’s shoulders. Mary, in turn, leans towards Elizabeth and places her hand on Elizabeth’s stomach. When the two women met, the child in Elizabeth’s womb, the future John the Baptist, was said to have leaped for joy, recognizing the presence of Jesus within Mary. In the fresco, Mary appears to bless the unborn child, linking the scene not only to the meeting of the two mothers but also to the first recognition of Christ.

The painting is framed by a large trompe d’œil retable (a painting of an altarpiece), typical of the Baroque period. Two columns with Ionic capitals, wrapped with floral garlands, support a pediment bearing the inscription “Maria visitavit Elisabeth” — “Mary visited Elizabeth.” The arrangement is very similar to several Baroque altars found in Vence Cathedral.

On either side of this painted altarpiece stand the two great apostles of the Roman Church. To the left, Saint Peter holds the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven; above him, the inscription “Petrus” is still visible. To the right is Saint Paul, now much more faded, carrying a cross in his right hand. The original inscription identifying him as “Paulus” has mostly disappeared, though traces of its lines remain.

The presence of Peter and Paul places the painting within the spirit of the Catholic renewal that followed the Council of Trent. After the challenges of the Reformation, Catholic art often emphasized the authority and continuity of the Church, especially through figures closely associated with Rome. Peter, traditionally regarded as the first pope, represented the foundation of ecclesiastical authority, while Paul, the great missionary and teacher, represented the spread and defense of Christian doctrine. By placing these two apostles in such a prominent position, the image underlines the Roman Church’s claim to apostolic roots: its teaching and authority were not recent inventions, but part of an unbroken tradition reaching back to the earliest followers of Christ.

The Altar

The freestanding altar in the foreground appears to have been added during the 1924 restoration, according to the plaque behind it. It has a simple rectangular mensa, or altar slab, supported by paired small columns at the front corners. One author wrote that its clean, symmetrical form and position in front of the older back altar suggest it may have been installed for modern liturgical use, allowing the priest to celebrate Mass facing the congregation. There is, however, no room between the new altar and the older one behind it, so this doesn’t make sense.

Behind the freestanding altar is a raised, painted masonry structure in warm yellow tones with blue trim. This appears to function as the older altar setting or support for the painted devotional focus behind it. It may be part of the later reworking of the chapel’s east end, but it’s impossible to date without a restoration report or inventory.

In Vence et Ses Monuments, Daurelle expresses disdain towards the “new” altar, writing, “Inside, the replacement of the old masonry altar with a new one is also unfortunate. At the very least, it could have been made to match the Gothic style of the mural decoration.”

The 2002 Restoration

Between March and June 2002, the Saint Elizabeth Chapel underwent an important exterior restoration. The work was carried out by the Acchiardi company of Nice under the supervision of the Architectes des Bâtiments de France, at a cost of around 200,000 francs. Although the interior frescoes were not part of this campaign, the repairs were essential for protecting them, especially from water damage.

The roof was one of the main priorities. Above the sanctuary, the tiles had previously rested directly on the vault, which meant that any broken or displaced tile could allow rainwater to seep through and threaten the painted decoration inside. To solve this problem, a cement slab was inserted between the vault and the roof covering, creating a protective barrier against infiltration. The porch roof was also repaired, as parts of its framework had become unstable. There had been some hope of removing the false cement vault added in the 1970s and restoring the porch to its earlier appearance, with the wooden frame visible, but limited funding meant that only repairs to the existing ceiling could be made.

The small bell tower was also restored, though the work altered its appearance quite noticeably. Its roof changed from a pointed, conical form to a more rounded, hemispherical shape. The old glazed tiles were replaced with new ones, whose colors and arrangement differ from the earlier covering. Where green and yellow had once dominated, the restored roof includes a greater variety of tones, including brown. The cross above the bell tower was also modified by the addition of a metal globe at its base, giving it a more formal and monumental appearance.

Perhaps the most visible change was the resurfacing of the chapel walls. The new pinkish coating of exterior plaster was chosen to harmonize with the older plaster found inside the porch and on the gable wall. The removal of the two cypress trees that once framed the entrance was regretted by many, but it allowed the exterior walls to be properly treated. At the same time, the new plaster covered the last traces of painted decoration that had survived near the top of the gable above the porch entrance. Fortunately, these remains had been recorded before the work began.

The removal of the old exterior coating also allowed specialists to study the chapel’s structure more closely. This revealed that the building had developed in several stages. The earliest chapel was shorter than the present one and was built of squared stones laid in irregular courses, a technique consistent with construction methods of the late 14th or early 15th century. At the east end, a disturbance in the masonry may indicate a former opening that was later blocked up. If so, this would suggest either an earlier state before the frescoes were painted or a building phase in which the east wall was not yet intended to receive painted decoration.

The porch was added after this first phase. Low walls were built in line with the chapel’s north and south walls, ending in upright stone pillars that supported a roof lower than that of the sanctuary. Later still, the side walls of the porch were filled in with rubble masonry, mortar, and numerous pieces of terracotta, a method associated with the modern period rather than the medieval one. At the same time, the pillars were heightened, the porch roof was raised to match the chapel roof, and the entrance was given a semicircular arch.

In a later stage, the porch walls were pierced by two openings framed with small brickwork similar to that used in the bell tower. The final major alteration involved blocking these openings and covering the exterior with the pinkish plaster on which painted decoration was still partly visible before the 2002 restoration. Although the campaign changed the chapel’s outward appearance in several ways, it also made it possible to identify the main stages in the building’s development and to replace speculation about its history with a clearer architectural chronology.

The Sainte-Élisabeth Festival

During the late 19th century, patron-saint festivals became increasingly common in the villages and rural districts of the Alpes-Maritimes, and Vence was no exception. In July and August, after the heaviest agricultural work had passed, dances and feasts were held almost every Sunday in one village or another. These celebrations usually combined religious devotion with popular festivity: masses, pilgrimages, processions, communal meals, music, dancing, games, and other local traditions.

This was also a period of change in the countryside around Vence. Agriculture was no longer devoted only to food production. More and more land was being given over to the cultivation of flowers, especially for the perfume industry in Grasse. The trade was flourishing, and a large part of the local harvest was sent to the perfumers. The hills and fields around Vence were said to be bright with roses, violets, and orange blossoms.

In this setting, the Saint Elizabeth chapel took on a renewed place in local life. No longer only an old wayside sanctuary or a place of private devotion, it became a small rural gathering place tied to the flower harvest, the surrounding countryside, and the people of the Sainte-Élisabeth district. Saint Elizabeth became the patronal focus of the local festival, remembered as the queen of the Vence countryside. Around this time, a small bell tower was added to the chapel, its glazed polychrome tiles donated by the White Penitents of Vence.

At the heart of these celebrations was the Mass of Saint Elizabeth. The Mass was held for many decades, though not always regularly, and seems to have disappeared entirely between the beginning of the First World War and the end of the Second. Older inhabitants remembered it as a simple, intimate service, attended mainly by people from the Sainte-Élisabeth district and the nearby countryside. In this way, the chapel remained rooted not only in religious devotion, but also in the daily life, work, and memory of the neighborhood.

Saint Elizabeth was originally associated with November, but in the early 20th century, as Vence developed as a health resort and tourist destination, the feast was moved to the first weekend of August, while preserving a religious moment at the chapel on the Monday.

The more recent form of the Sainte-Élisabeth celebrations, popular for the pan bagnat (a traditional Niçois sandwich made with olive-oil-soaked bread, tomatoes, tuna or anchovies, hard-boiled egg, olives, and other local ingredients) shared after Mass, took shape only at the end of the 20th century. The purpose of the pan bagnat was simple but important: to keep people together after the religious service and restore the social dimension of the gathering. With posters, local organization, and renewed neighborhood interest, attendance grew considerably, bringing together old families, newer residents, people from Vence, and visitors from surrounding areas. Yet the feast was never meant to be simply a summer picnic. Its meaning always depended on the Mass that preceded it. Without the chapel and its religious tradition, the celebration would lose much of its deeper purpose.

Today, the Sainte-Élisabeth festival is still celebrated in Vence at the beginning of August, usually over three days. Although often described as a patronal festival, it is perhaps better understood as a neighborhood and chapel fête, rooted in the Sainte-Élisabeth district’s long-standing attachment to its chapel. The celebration brings together several strands of local life: music and dancing in the town center, traditional groups such as La Brissaudo and Lo Cepon, shared meals, an aubade through the streets, and an evening Mass at the Saint Elizabeth Chapel. In recent programs, the festivities have opened on Place Clemenceau with an apéritif, music, a communal meal, and a ball, continued on Sunday with music in town and an evening show at the Grand Jardin, and ended on Monday at the chapel itself with Mass, a simple pan bagnat meal, and a final dance. In this way, the festival still preserves something of its older character: part religious observance, part village celebration, and part neighborhood gathering around one of Vence’s most cherished rural chapels.

The Sainte-Élisabeth Neighborhood

The modern history of the Saint Elizabeth neighborhood begins with the arrival of families from the mountain villages of the Vésubie Valley, including Roquebillière, Belvédère, Lantosque, and Saint-Martin-Vesubie. Some came after the devastating landslide at Roquebillière in November 1926, while others had already known the Vence area from seasonal work in the orange-blossom fields. Land around the chapel was relatively inexpensive, and many Vençois owners were willing to sell plots that they considered of little value. For the mountain families, however, these fields offered the chance to begin again. Over time, families such as the Gaetti, Baracco, Monini, Biancospino, Delorme, Thaon, and others established themselves there, creating a new rural community rooted in both displacement and opportunity.

Life in the district was shaped by hard agricultural labor. Before the First World War, the land produced crops such as wheat, corn, broad beans, chickpeas, vines, and vegetables that required little water. Later, farmers grew artichokes, potatoes, carrots, fruit, and flowers. The climate forced the newcomers to adapt, since those from the mountains were not used to the heat of the Vence countryside and often worked early in the morning or late in the day. Until the middle of the 20th century, the Sainte-Élisabeth neighborhood remained open and rural, with few fences, little traffic, and fields stretching around the chapel and down toward what would later become Avenue Émile Hugues.

Until the 1950s, agriculture remained the main activity, but the district later shifted toward horticulture, with May roses, orange trees, and cut roses grown for perfume and commerce. Around 1970, some farms returned to fruit growing, and the flowering orchards of nearby Malbosquet became a memorable part of the landscape. But by the 1960s and 1970s, new houses began to appear. Children of farming families often chose not to continue their parents’ demanding work, and fields were increasingly divided, sold, or converted into residential properties. By the 1980s, urbanization had accelerated, and the construction of new roads around Vence brought increased traffic and noise, altering the district’s quiet character.

The chapel stood at the heart of this world. It gave the district its name and served as a point of orientation, a meeting place, a shelter, and a place of memory. Farmers gathered there before going to sell their crops; children met there before walking to Vence; young people left initials and messages in the porch; walkers rested there in the shade; and residents caught in bad weather took refuge there.

The building also inspired practical devotion. Residents brought flowers, gave money, helped decorate the chapel, and contributed to its upkeep. Certain people played especially important roles, including the Balestre family, Baroness Jansen, and Mr. Esmengiaud, who held the keys for many years and cared for the building, planted the cypresses beside it, and helped maintain its appearance. Baroness Jansen, who lived nearby at Rocavista, financed repairs and improvements, including work on the roof and the closing of the chapel after a theft. Although she remained socially distant from the old families, her care for the chapel made her one of its important benefactors. In the 1990s and early 2000s, a young man named Sébastien Richard took over the building’s care and maintenance.

Despite urbanization and the decline of traditional farming life, Saint Elizabeth has not lost its soul. Its festival, its chapel, and the memories attached to them continue to give the district a sense of identity and belonging.

Who Was Saint Elizabeth?

Saint Elizabeth is considered an important figure in the history of Christianity, but we know very little about her. Almost everything we do know comes from the Gospel of Saint Luke, especially Luke 1. Luke tells us that Elizabeth was the wife of Zechariah, that she came from a priestly family, that she was elderly and childless, and that she conceived and gave birth to John the Baptist.

In the Gospel of Luke, the angel Gabriel appears to Zechariah in the temple and tells him that his prayer has been heard: his wife Elizabeth will bear a son, and the child is to be named John. Gabriel explains that John’s birth will bring great joy not only to his parents but also to many others. He will be filled with the Holy Spirit from before birth and will have a special mission: to bring the people of Israel back to God and to prepare them for the coming of the Lord.

Zechariah responds to Gabriel’s announcement with doubt, asking how such a thing can happen since both he and Elizabeth are old. Gabriel identifies himself as God’s messenger and tells Zechariah that, because he did not believe the message, he will be unable to speak until the child is born. When Zechariah finally comes out of the temple, the people realize that he has seen a vision. Unable to explain what has happened, he can only communicate by signs and remains silent.

After completing a period of service in the temple, Zechariah returns home. Soon afterward, Elizabeth conceives, fulfilling the angel’s promise. For five months, she keeps her pregnancy private, reflecting on what God has done for her. To Elizabeth, the child is not only a miracle but also the removal of the shame she had felt because of her childlessness.

Luke tells us that Elizabeth was a relative of the Virgin Mary (many would later say a cousin), and that six months after Elizabeth conceived, the angel Gabriel was sent to Nazareth to announce another miraculous birth, this time to Mary, who was betrothed to Joseph. Gabriel tells Mary that she has found favor with God and will bear a son named Jesus, who will be called the Son of the Most High and whose kingdom will have no end. When Mary asks how this can happen, Gabriel explains that the child will be conceived through the power of the Holy Spirit. He also tells her that her relative Elizabeth, once thought to be barren, is already six months pregnant, reminding Mary that nothing is impossible for God. Mary accepts the angel’s message with humility, saying that she is the servant of the Lord.

Mary then travels to the hill country of Judah to visit Elizabeth. When Mary greets her, the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaps, and Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth greets Mary with the famous words, “Blessed are you among women…” and understands that the child Mary carries is especially holy. Elizabeth also praises Mary’s faith, saying that she is blessed because she believed that God’s promise to her would be fulfilled.

This encounter between Elizabeth and Mary, two women whose pregnancies were unexpected and miraculous in different ways, is depicted in the altarpiece of the Saint Elizabeth Chapel. Elizabeth, an elderly woman who had long been unable to have a child, welcomes Mary, the young woman chosen to bear Jesus through the power of the Holy Spirit. The scene can be understood as a meeting between the old covenant and the new. Elizabeth carries John, the prophet who will prepare the way for the Lord, while Mary carries Jesus, the fulfillment of God’s promise. At Mary’s greeting, the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy, and Elizabeth recognizes Mary as “the mother of my Lord.” In Christian interpretation, Elizabeth gives place to Mary, just as John will later give place to Jesus. Elizabeth represents the faithful people of the old covenant, while Mary points toward the new Church, called to carry the message of salvation to the world.

Mary stays with Elizabeth for about three months before returning home. When the time comes, Elizabeth gives birth to a son, and her neighbors and relatives rejoice with her, seeing the child as a sign of God’s mercy. On the eighth day, when the child is circumcised, those present expect him to be named Zechariah after his father. Elizabeth, however, insists that he is to be called John, just as the angel had commanded.

Those present are surprised by Elizabeth’s choice of name, since no one in the family is called John. They turn to Zechariah for confirmation, and he writes on a tablet, “John is his name.” At that moment, his speech is restored, and he begins praising God. The event amazes and unsettles the surrounding community, and people throughout the hill country of Judea begin wondering what kind of child John will become. The passage makes clear that God’s hand is with him from the beginning.

Zechariah is filled with the Holy Spirit and speaks a prophecy of praise. He blesses God for remembering his covenant, showing mercy to his people, and bringing salvation through the house of David. He then turns to his own son, John, declaring that the child will be called a prophet of the Most High. John’s mission will be to prepare the way of the Lord, to call people to forgiveness, and to guide them toward peace. The passage ends by saying that John grew strong in spirit and lived in the desert until the time came for his public mission.

After the birth and circumcision of John the Baptist, the Gospels say nothing more about Elizabeth. Later Christian tradition and apocryphal writings added stories about her, including the story that she fled into the hills with the infant John during Herod’s massacre of the children, but these are later traditions, not information from the canonical Gospels.

The feast day of Saint Elizabeth is not as easy to identify as one might expect. The Saint Elizabeth most often found in modern calendars is Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, celebrated on November 17, but she is not the same Elizabeth honored in the chapel of Vence. The Elizabeth of the Gospel of Luke, wife of Zechariah and mother of John the Baptist, does not usually appear with a prominent feast day of her own. She is remembered indirectly through other liturgical celebrations, especially the Visitation, when Mary comes to see her, and the feasts connected with her son, John the Baptist.

This seems appropriate for a saint whose role in the Gospel is marked by humility and self-effacement. Elizabeth stands at the meeting point between the old covenant and the new, but she does not seek the place of honor. She recognizes Mary as the mother of the Lord, and her son John will later prepare the way for Jesus. In the Roman tradition, Elizabeth is celebrated alongside her husband, Zechariah, on November 5. In this way, even her feast day reflects her quiet place in Christian memory: important, faithful, and deeply honored, yet always pointing beyond herself to others.

Resources:
Sainte Elisabeth: Histoire et mémoire autour d’une chapelle by Sébastien Richard and Aurélien Portelli (2002)
Vence et Ses Monuments by Jacques Daurelle (1934)

Access

Vence can easily be reached from just about anywhere in France by taking the A8 until you get to Cagnes-sur-Mer. If you are coming from the east get off on Exit 48 and if you are coming from the west you’ll want Exit 47. Take the M336, then the M36 and finally the M236 north into Vence. The most accessible parking is in the Parking du Grand Jardin, right next to the old town. Parking Toreille and Marie Antoinette Parking are both close by as well.

There are two buses which run from Nice to Vence: #9 and #655. Just be careful with the #9, it can be a bit confusing because it has two routes leaving from the Park Phoenix in Nice. One route stops at the Shopping Promenade mall which is still about 8kms from Vence. Look at the route displayed on the front of the bus at the top. It should say “L’Ara” which is the last bus stop in Vence. All the #9 buses returning to Nice from Vence go all the way to Park Phoenix.

There is no train service directly to Vence. You can take the train to Cagnes-sur-Mer and then take either the #9 or #655 bus from Cagnes-sur-Mer to Vence.

To reach the Saint Elizabeth Chapel, proceed to the large roundabout before entering the main part of town, where the M36 (Route de Cagnes) and the M236 (Avenue Emile Hugues) meet. Take Avenue Emile Hugues to the Ancienne Chemin de Saint-Paul and turn right. The chapel is on the right side of the road at the top of the hill.

The Vence Office de Tourisme is located near the center of town just across the street from the Grand Jardin. Unless you come on one of the dates specified above you won’t be able to visit the interior of the Saint Anne Chapel, but you can, of course, view the outside. I would suggest that you try to come on any day but Sunday or Monday so that you might also enjoy some of the shops and boutiques in Vence that might otherwise be closed.