If you look closely, very closely, at the masonry above the arch of the Gate of the Dead at the Roman amphitheater in Saintes, you can make out a fine line that indicates where a mason stopped his work for the day.

Unless a sign is eventually placed there, you won’t find the exact spot on your own. And even when Karine Robin, head of the archeology department for Charente-Maritime, points to and explains her discovery, I can’t be sure if I’m seeing the line or imagining it through her enthused description. I lean closer. Yes, there it is—eureka!—a trace of thrilling triviality within a Roman ruin in a bypassed town, shown by a proud and passionate archeologist. Astounding!

The minutia of the archeologist’s discovery and her vivid explanation light in my mind a spark that begins to illuminate the course of 2000 years of history, from a mason’s day in about 40 AD to the crowds who filled the amphitheater over the next four centuries or so, then the crumbling of the Roman Empire and the gradual transformation, dismantling and degradation of the amphitheater until archeologist began to study the partially buried structure in the 19th-century and now its fine-comb examination by Karine Robin and her team who have been investigating the site and restoring its remnants along with the National Institute for Preventive Archeological Research (Inrap).

That something so seemingly inconsequential in my own life—evidence of a Gallo-Roman mason leaving work for the day—should suddenly make a 3½-hour train ride from Paris feel worthwhile is in itself extraordinary. Often, the greatest reward of sightseeing isn’t a sight itself but the sparks that light in the mind when an informed person enthusiastically gives it context and teaches you how to look at it.

Would you go out of your way for that?

Probably not. You’ve already been the Colosseum in Rome, you say—impressive indeed. And to Arles and to Nimes, you say—yes, wonderful towns to visit. Me, too.

The Arena (Amphitheater)

Then what more can you find here when in fact far less remains of the cavea or seating area and far less of those wide passages that allowed for crowds to enter and exit? I scan the ruin. I listen to our guides. Those passages, we’re told, are called vomitories. Hearing that, a new spark illuminates the connection between the Latin spoken by Roman masons and emperors and the food poisoning I may have gotten from a 3-star Michelin restaurant several years ago. Like Helen Keller by the water pump and the tree, I want to the learn names of things. Those arched passageways to either end of the amphitheater are evocatively called the Gate of the Living (Porte des Vivants), on the eastern side, opening toward the city, and the Gate of the Dead (Porte des Morts), opening to the then-countryside to the west. It’s on the occasion of the restoration of the latter that Karine Robin has discerned the mason’s fine line. No, it isn’t only men who are intrigued by the history of the Roman Empire, though it could be that men are more susceptible to Roman sparks.

We’re visiting what is locally referred to as “the arena” but is technically speaking an amphitheater, i.e. a theater with seating on both sides. Not that I’ve become a connoisseur of Roman architecture in the past hour, but the traveler learns such things on site, and more: about the amphitheater’s religious, political and entertainment functions for a location population invited to witness wild animals in a hunting show in the morning, executions at noon, gladiator fights in the afternoon.

And there they are, on the theater floor today—gladiators! We go over to speak with them—well, the men in our group do. They aren’t real gladiators but strong and knowledgeable reenactors who perform here in summer. They present their shields and daggers, their metal helmets and leather padding.

There are no combats this afternoon, but we’re drawn in by their accounts of the lives of the trained fighters of ancient Rome. Today’s friendly gladiators now take evident pleasure in deflating our greatest sense of a gladiator fight: that it all ended with a life-saving thumbs-up or a deadly thumbs-down. We could have Googled “Roman hand signals” for details, but learning from reenactors who share their passion and knowledge right here on the theater floor makes think that I might have been a bit overdramatic yesterday when I complained to a friend about taking the 6:48am train from Paris.

Then, just as I’m enthralled by an account of the glamorous and dangerous life of a hall-of-fame gladiator, we’re told that (Christian) Emperor Honorius prohibited gladiator combat in the year 404.

I look around at the grassy, rocky bowl that surrounds us, not to imagine the last of the cheering crowds but take in the pleasing view of sheep grazing on slopes that once held seating for up to 15,000 spectators, the town’s entire populations, all welcome, seated according to social status. And I sense the end of this amphitheater as a venue for the thrill of executed justice and violent entertainment. I sense the dismantling of temples, the surrounding of the city by ramparts, the rise of the Visigoths, the Sack of Rome.

Would you go out of your way for that?

I didn’t think so. But if there are remnants of a Roman amphitheater there’s got to be more to see in Saintes.

The name Saintes might lead you to imagine that the presence of a mother lode of Christian relics or a history of pious devotion, perhaps some memorable martyrdom. Though a certain Saint Eutropius was (for some, is) indeed venerated here as an early Christian martyr (I’ll get to him), Saintes is instead derived from the name of the Celtic tribe that inhabited the region at the time of the Roman invasion with Julius Caesar’s Gallic Wars and far before the evangelization of Gaul. They were the Santoni. Under Roman rule, the developing town was given the name Mediolanum, or Mediolanum Santonum to add the term for its inhabitants. (Similarly, the Parisii were the pre-Roman inhabitants of what would become Paris, a town the Romans called Lutetia or Lutetia Parisiorum.)

Mediolanum/Saintes developed just beyond a sharp bend in the Charente River. The town is now somewhat removed from major routes through France, hence the 3½ train from Paris with a change of trains at Angoulême. On the map below, you have to zoom in above and Bordeaux to locate Saintes along the Charente between Cognac, 17 miles to the east, and Rochefort, 24 miles northwest.

Two thousand years ago, however, Mediolanum held a proud place on the map of Gaul as capital of the large province of Aquitaine. Here, the east-west Via Agrippa, the route coming from Ludgunum (now Lyon), met the north-south route through Aquitaine, a sign of the town’s geographical and political importance.

The amphitheater is testimony to the town’s prominence early in the Roman colonization of Gaul. Completed in about 40 AD and dedicated to Emperor Claudius (41-54 AD), who had been born in Lugdunum, its construction predates that of the Colosseum of Rome by about 30 years and that of the amphitheaters of Arles and Nimes by 50 and 60 years respectively.

Bordeaux would take over as the capital of Roman Aquitaine in the 2nd century, leaving Mediolanum with a secondary role, then less so as centuries passed. Saintes is now a part of the vast region of New Aquitaine, whose capital is Bordeaux. Its current population is only 27,000 (56,000 with the metropolitan area), less than double what it was 2000 years ago. Its inhabitants are called the Saintais and Santaises.

The Arch of Germanicus

Even before the construction of the amphitheater, Mediolanum bore the proud markers of a Roman town.

Its first aqueduct was already supplying water, and a second would soon be added to provide a more abundant supply to the growing provincial capital. Remnants of these can be seen at their sources in the countryside 6-7 miles outside of town. Fascinating as they may be, it’s likely that only a diehard explorer of antiquity with a vehicle will inquire the route at the tourist office to seek them out.

Every visitor to Saintes, however, takes a walk along the river to see the Arch of Germanicus, built about 18-19AD. (Also, the tourist office is close by.) Originally constructed at the point of arrival of the Via Agrippa, the arch was the entrance gate to the bridge crossing the Charente into the heart of Mediolanum. The double-arch gate honors Emperor Tiberius, his son Druus and his adoptive son Germanicus, yet Germanicus gets sole reverence today since his name is the most legible of those inscribed along the arch’s crown.

In 1843, the arch was displaced 150 yards from its original position as the bridge and waterfront were modified. So it now stands isolated and out of context, diminishing some of its aura. Nevertheless, as we stand by the river with a full view of the arch and learn from Cécile Trébuchet, a dynamic local guide, how to interpret its blocks and inscriptions, visiting Saintes feels less like a detour and more like an arrival. It also inspires a wiki read about Tiberius and the imperial gang of 2000 years ago that later sends me down the rabbit hole of Roman history from which I eventually emerge with the sense that the same gang is at it today.

A visit to the town’s Archeology Museum, right nearby, seems like the natural next step. Unless it’s mealtime, in which case consider the restaurant barge La Batiâ that’s docked by the arch.

Would you go out of your way for that?

Unlikely. Maybe a medieval monument or two will tilt the balance. Three medieval bell towers stand out above the pale red tile roofs of Saintes, those of the Abbaye aux Dames (the Ladies’ Abbey), of Saint Pierre (St. Peter) Cathedral and of Saint Eutrope (Eutropius) Basilica.

The Tomb and Crypt of Saint Eutropius

Saintes’s most unique medieval sight is the basilica’s crypt, a subterranean church containing the tomb on the early Christian missionary and lapidated martyr Saint Eutropius. A site of devotion since the mid-500s, the presence of the saint’s tomb later earned Saintes a stop on the Way of Saint James to Compostella, Spain. The tomb now lies in dramatic simplicity in the heart of a vast crypt of the 11th century. The light, the chill and the musty smell there create a spectacular and eerie atmosphere that flirts between virtuous intimacy and the possibility of eternal damnation, as the most titillating flirts do. It’s open to the public, if you dare enter the gaping mouth of the entrance to the great below. The leafy decorations of its column capitals provide touches of charm that partially alleviate the sense that the end is nigh. But be forewarned: Stand inside alone for more than a few minutes and you’ll either fall to your knees in a desperate plea to be saved or run out in a panic to save yourself. I chose the latter.

The Ladies’ Abbey: Hotel, Church, Music Conservatory

You’d be hard pressed to find a tourist trap in Saintes considering how few foreign tourists venture this way. That point alone can be the attraction as an overnight for the wayward traveler, or for someone suddenly struck with wanderlust, or for a cyclist on the easy-going Rochefort-Cognac leg of the Flow Vélo route. Consider then a peaceful night at the Abbey aux Dames, the Ladies’ Abbey, which is also a highlight for the day visitor.

Founded in 1047, the Ladies’ Abbey, is a successful contemporary example of ways in which heritage sights can be rehabilitated to the benefit of local life, local economy, culture, and visitors. While one portion of the complex is now used for social housing, the central portion houses a music conservatory, an auditorium and a hotel, along with the abbey church. The complex also has an information desk, a boutique, a café and a strange playable musical tent of sorts.

The abbey church remains the medieval centerpiece. Though the Benedictines nuns were sent packing during the Revolution, the Romanesque church was later reconsecrated and continues to hold Catholic service. Fires in 1608 and 1648 led to the rebuilding of the convent buildings in the 17th century. From the Revolution until just after the First World War, the site served as military barracks, housing about 2000 men. Audio guides are available to explore the thousand-year history of the site and to appreciate its recent musical vocation.

In 1972, the tired complex was given new life when it became the venue for a Classical music festival. The former abbey now hosts musical programs throughout the year, culminating in the annual Festival de Saintes. In 2025, nearly 12,000 people attended the 29 concerts performed over 8 days in July at the abbey and elsewhere in Saintes.

Situated between the station and the river, the abbey hotel is conveniently situated for lodging train travelers and bikers.

The 33 bedrooms occupy the former cells of nuns along a hallway on the second floor of the main convent building. Only several of the rooms have en suite bathrooms. Most share bathrooms on the hallway (bathrobes and slippers are provided). That will be off-putting for some, but will add a sense of community to others.

The hotel is not for ladies only, and this is not roughing it. The rooms are comfortable. The architecture itself is the primary décor. The quiet of the immediate surroundings, the history of the place, and the arched stone-and-brick ceiling of the bedrooms inspire guests to sleep the sleep of nuns or soldiers or Classical musicians or tired tourists, depending on what dreams, nightmares or fantasies overcome you. About 100€ per room per night is a reasonable price to find out. The complex is open year-round, however the hotel section primarily operates April to September. The rest of the year it opens only for groups reserving 10 rooms or more.

Other nice lodging options for train travelers or cyclists include Hotel des Messageries, a 3-star by the river and the town center, and La Porte Rouge – The Red Door Inn, a charming B&B in the center. Those traveling by car may also consider Relais du Bois Saint Georges, a 4-star on the edge of town.

The Dupuy-Mestreau Museum

It’s from a side street that we enter this handsome private mansion of the 18th century that otherwise faces the Charente River. In the 19th century the mansion was purchased by Abel Mestreau (1855-1939), a wealthy Cognac merchant and a collector of regional folklore, curiosities and apparently whatever struck his fantasy. He never actually lived here. The Dupuy-Museum Museum is so scarcely visited and the discolored collection is so eclectic that that itself may appeal to those who like feeling that they’ve left main-road travelers way behind.

As much as I appreciate having our guide explain the interest of the various costumes, clothing, regional headdresses (coiffes), paintings, regional artefacts, furnishings, knick-knacks, pottery, jewelry, and what-the-heck-is-thats, I also enjoy wandering around on my own so as to make up stories about various objects, e.g. this gal with the racket; I call her the goddess of tennis. Not unlike visiting Saint Eutropius’s crypt, eclectic regional museums such as this inspire in me a mix of intense curiosity and a desire to flee.

Curiosity got the better of us all. We hung around long enough to see the royalist treasure among the footwear display: a cute pair of slipper-shoes said to have been worn by deposed king Louis XVI during his imprisonment, as he awaited the trial that would eventually lead to his execution. I’m glad I saw them, because that gives me a reason to tell you a Saintes fun fact: Saintes was the birthplace in 1738 of Joseph-Ignace Guillotin whose name lives on in the term for the machine for humane and expedient execution that he championed: the guillotine. An etching of the fellow is among the collection.

Would I advise you to go out of you way for that or does this sound like a far way to go for yet another quaint small town in France?

Still wondering.

Cognac Grosperrin

After all of the vestiges and artefacts that we’ve encountered through the day, we air out our dusty minds with a stroll along the river. It leads us to the offices and cellars of Saintes’s last remaining Cognac broker. As we approach, we imagine barges docked nearby to load casks for shipping when these cellars were first operational in 1851.

Cognac, the town that gave its name to the world-renown double-distilled brandy, is 17 miles upriver, to the east, yet Saintes lies within the cognac grape-growing zone. While most of the major players in the Cognac market are in and around Cognac, the Grosperrin Cognac house, located here, is increasingly known to connoisseurs. Since 1999, first under Jean Grosperrin then, beginning in 2004, under his son Guilhem, Cognac Grosperrin has made a name for itself by purchasing from a variety of sources single-terroir and vintage Cognacs in oak casks, which it then continues to age before bottling and selling at what it deems the appropriate time.

The main cellar, with its old casks and demijohns, most of which are dated and authenticated with official sealing, is an impressive sight in its own right when one thinks of the history (your own, France’s, the world’s) that the dates represent. Then comes the tasting.

I will admit here that among French brandies I never had a taste for Cognac, finding it too harsh for my palate. Before now, that is. Turns out that my impression was based on middling or young Cognacs, the kind best reserved for cocktails or give-me-anything-that-burns digestives. When well-selected fruit is well-distilled and well-aged, it’s an entirely different experience. The same can be said for Calvados (apple) and Armagnac (grape), the two other internationally known French brandies, but I’ve generally been more forgiving when sipping middling versions of those, on the one hand because I’m a frequent visitor to the Calvados region of Normandy and accept that apple brandy is a unpretentious spirit, and on the other because the Armagnac-producing region of southwest France is so enchantingly rural. One reason that I didn’t write about the town of Cognac after a quick visit there ten years ago was that I couldn’t quite wrap my tongue around its namesake brandy. I now realize that I need to go back and try again, because one sip—one spark—of a vintage offered by out tasting guide Maxence le Moulec at Grosperrin and I find myself wondering where I can buy a nice set of crystal brandy glasses. A sip of another and I’m thinking of purchasing a set of leather armchairs. One more and I’m considering looking for an apartment with a working fireplace.

Grosperrin isn’t only a connoisseur’s Cognac. It can also be a Cognac for infrequently imbibing non-connoisseurs who would enjoy splurging for a quality bottle that will last a while, or for someone who already owns a set of leather chairs and crystal tumblers but not the brandy to go with it, or, finally, someone who may never buy a bottle Cognac but wants a sip of local heritage excellence while traveling in the region. Even a sniff-swirl-and-spit tasting may suffice to understand the meaning of carpe diem, as the Roman poet sang. Let’s take this opportunity to recall what the Roman playwright said: “Moderation in all things is the best policy.”

For 7€, visitors are welcome for a tour and tasting. More intense and in-depth tasting tours can be reserved for 45€ and 150€. Advance booking is advised. Grosperrin isn’t the only merchant to go for quality in the Cognac-producing region, but I give them their due for sparking my interest in Cognac.

Is Cognac too harsh for you? Try Pineau des Charentes when in the region. Pineau is a fortified wine of about 17% in which grape juice (white, red or rosé) and Cognac are mixed and aged on oak barrels to create a sweet aperitif, served chilled. Don’t drink? Savor the food stands at the Saint Pierre Market on Wednesday and Saturday mornings.

So would I recommend that you go out of the way for Saintes?

I thought about the question on the long train ride back to Paris. How could I possibly give a generic answer? To each his or her own sparks, interests, imagination and cheap thrills. But don’t readers deserve an answer, a proverbial thumbs-up or thumbs-down or an algorithmic 1 to 5 stars? Was there something special here or was this just another quaint old French town? And if the latter, isn’t that enough?

I thought of all I’d done: I’d met archeologists and gladiators, learned history and words, descended into an eerie crypt, slept in a nunnery, wandered around a bizarre museum, nipped Cognac. Then suddenly, in a spark, I imagined Julius Ceasar, pleased, contemplative and exhausted on his way home from the Gallic Wars that would change the course of history all along this train route. I felt just like that. I came, I saw, I conked out.

© 2025, Gary Lee Kraut

Read about two other towns in the department of Charente-Maritime in New Aquitaine, Rochefort and La Rochelle.

The post Sparks of Curiosity in Saintes appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

This illustrated article examines the Rochefort maritime arsenal, the Naval Medicine Museum, the Rope Factory, Two Young Girls, The Hermione, the Raft of the Medusa and Pierre Loti. Other aspects of Rochefort are presented in Without Rochefort There Would Be No Begonias and Sylvie Deschamps, France’s Master Artist of Gold Embroidery.

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As the crow flies, the town of Rochefort is situated 5 miles inland from the Atlantic. But you’re unlikely to find a crow taking the direct route. Even the gulls follow the twists of the Charente River 15 miles to Rochefort.

The foreign visitor, however, is more likely to arrive via a 35-minute drive, either south from the attractive old port town of La Rochelle or northwest from the impressive Roman and Romanesque remnants at Saintes. Beyond Saintes, Cognac and Angouleme lie further upstream along the Charente River.

Walking alongside the stern facades on Rochefort’s grid-plan streets, one might well think of Rochefort as a quiet town that has always looked inward. But Rochefort was created as an outward-looking town of national importance, with international ambitions.

The creation of Rochefort

In 1666 the dynamic duo of France’s golden century, Louis XIV and his right-hand minister Colbert, aware of the need for France to beef up its maritime might as European powers bordering the Atlantic coast developed trade with and possessions in the New World, ordered the creation of a naval shipyard or arsenal at Rochefort.

Until then, France’s place as a European powerhouse typically meant deploying its force on land; its navy was a small affair. But with 17th-century globalization the English, the Spanish, the Portuguese and the Dutch rivaled for power on the high seas, and France risked missing the boat. Furthermore, while France’s Atlantic commercial ports of Nantes, La Rochelle and Bordeaux flourished, they were susceptible to enemy attacks and piracy.

So in a riverside zone, surrounded by marshland, close to the major commercial ports, within easy reach of the woodland and forests whose timbers were necessary for building a fleet, and defendable due to its position upriver, the Rochefort naval arsenal was launched.

A tremendous maritime enterprise was born, bringing together all of the various trades associated with such an enterprise. As it grew, a town of 14 east-west streets and 10 north-south streets was laid out.

Over time, Rochefort’s fortunes as a naval arsenal ebbed and flowed. It would be overtaken in importance by Brest, in the far reaches of Brittany, and later by Toulon, in the Mediterranean. Nevertheless, for 250 years Rochefort maintained a role in French maritime history.

The School of Naval Medicine

In 1722 the world’s first School of Naval Medicine opened in Rochefort. For the next 240 years it trained surgeons for the job of caring for sailors, and those surgeons became a part of the scientific team as the French navy around the world. The building where the school was installed in 1788 now houses the Naval Medicine Museum.

In 1778, Rochefort launched the construction of a 213-foot frigate called the Hermione. It was on that ship that, in March 1780 the Marquis de Lafayette embarked on a transatlantic crossing to deliver news to General Washington of France’s military support in the colonists’ fight against the mutual enemy, the English.

Rochefort was an important naval arsenal during that period. Some of the manpower came from forced labor as a penitentiary for criminals with lengthy sentences had been created here for just that purpose. (A more notorious forced-labor penitentiary was that of the maritime arsenal of Toulon, where the fictional Jean Valjean, the hero of Victor Hugo’s “Les Misérables” was held prisoner). The force-labor penitentiary or bagne of Rochefort functioned from 1766 to 1852. Living and working under harsh conditions, not only did the convicts provide labor for the navy, they also provided, upon precocious death, cadavers for the naval medical school.

The 19th century saw the development of the study known as phrenology which gave credence to the notion that the shape and size of the cranium reveals character, mental abnormality and the supposed inferiority of certain groups. The craniums of deceased criminals were studied here in an attempt to discern which cranial proportions signaled a propensity to one type of violent crime over another, e.g. distinguishing the physical traits of a murderer from that of a rapist.

Some of those “criminal” skulls can be seen at the Museum of the Naval Medical School among other displays of mid-19th-century medical know-how. Visits on the theme of phrenology and the penitentiary are occasionally held at the museum. Inquire at the Rochefort Tourist Office or directly at the museum.

The phrenology display is just a small part of the overall exhibit to the museum which presents a wide variety of displays relative to the concerns and methods of 19th-century maritime medicine and surgery. The building also houses an extensive historic library on the subject.

End of an era

As warships evolved in the latter decades of the 19th century it became increasingly difficult to justify maintaining a shipyard on a relatively shallow river. The death knoll for Rochefort as a shipbuilding town had been signaled several times over the centuries, and finally in 1919 the last warship to be constructed at Rochefort, its 550th, slid into the water. The arsenal closed eight years later. The port was partially dynamited by the German occupying force in 1944 with the approach of defeat. It was subsequently all but abandoned by the French navy.

The Young Girls of Rochefort

By the mid-1960s there was little life left in the old naval arsenal to identify Rochefort with its maritime past. The arsenal wasn’t dormant, it was in full decay. A town whose history had always led it to look outward could now barely face its own waterfront.

Then in 1966 a film crew came to Rochefort, awakening the town from its post-war slumber with bright colors, cheery music, movie stars and a whiff of flower power. Called The Young Girls of Rochefort (Les Demoiselles de Rochefort), the musical tells of two artsy young women who dream of love and life beyond Rochefort. Starring Catherine Deneuve and Françoise Dorléac (twins in the film, non-twin sisters in real life) and Gene Kelly, it was written and directed by Jacques Demy, with music by Michel Legrand. Hitting the big screen in 1967, the movie became such a cultural icon in France and remained so for so long that for several decades a foreigner hearing about The Young Girls of Rochefort when visiting France would have assumed that the town had no greater claim to a page in the history of France than being the backdrop of the colorful musical.

You can see from the trailer below how the movie would become an inspiration for La La Land (2016).

The Rope Factory and the Knot Tyers of Rochefort

Two Young Girls gave Rochefort a new taste of civic pride, but it was going to take much more than splashes of colors on the central square, some whitewashed walls and a few curious movie fans to face up to having an abandoned naval arsenal in the front yard.

Projects finally came to fruition in the 1980s. The Begonia Conservatory, though not in the arsenal zone, renewed Rochefort’s history of botanical exploration that accompanied its naval expeditions. After all, without Rochefort there would be no begonias.

More visibly, restoration of the Royal Rope Factory, the Corderie Royale, was undertaken. At 1227 feet long, long enough to twist hemp into 650-foot cables of rope, the corderie had been the first major royal construction project of the arsenal in 1666 and was to become the first project to draw attention back to the shipyard zone. Both tourism, in the form of presentations and exhibitions related to rope-making, and offices, with the presence of the International Sea Center, have found their place here, as well as an outstanding maritime bookshop. There’s a daytime restaurant, Les Longitudes, right nearby.

Visitors to the rope factory can learn through displays and demonstrations how string made from hemp was twisted into thick rope for the sailing ships of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries.

Sylvie Deschamps, France’s master artist of gold embroidery, may have the nimblest fingers in Rochefort, but knot tyers (mateloteurs in French) at the Corderie Royale are quite skilled at turning, twisting, braiding and knotting as they create traditional and contemporary rope pieces, both utilitarian and decorative.

The French branch of the International Guild of Knot Tyers, an organization created in the U.K. in 1982, is headquartered here.

The Hermione

Promoting a historic ropeworks can do only so much to bring townspeople and visitors from elsewhere to a former naval arsenal. What was missing was something that would instill civic pride and truly draw attention to the town: an actual ship.

Like neighborhood kids getting together to decide they wanted to put on a play, some elected officials and historical-minded folk came up with the crazy idea of actually building a warship at the old arsenal. It would need to be an evocative ship, one that called to mind the successes of the French navy, the role of France in the world and a historical figure who was famous and ambiguous enough that he hadn’t fully been claimed by either the right wing or the left. A tall order.

One ship identified with one man fit the bill: the Hermione, the frigate built at Rochefort, which took Lafayette to meet with Washington in 1780. It had been a journey that signaled France’s full involvement in the American cause, or more precisely in the hurt-the-British-wherever-you-can cause.

Turning a fantasy project into a reality took time. The municipally-backed non-profit Hermione – La Fayette Association was created in 1992 and construction finally began on July 4, 1997. While the original frigate took six months to construct, it took 17 years and a budget 25 million euros to building a full-scale replica of the 65-meter (213-feet) long frigate. The project required the wood of 2000 oak trees, 1 ton of hemp for caulking, 1000 pulleys, nearly 15 miles of rope for riggings, and eventually 32 canons, altogether requiring the creation of numerous workshops along the dock.

The region, department (sub-region) and town provided 4.8 million euros each for the budget and the European Union provided 1.5 million, while over 9 million came from members of the association, donations, sponsors/partners and visitors who came to see the construction site. Visitors could speak with the various artisans involved and learn about the various techniques and trades involved in building the replica.

Interest from the general public arrived slowly at first, but once the hull took form public interest rose with the ship. By the time the Hermione was completed in 2014 4.1 visitors had visited the dockyard to see the ship under construction.

A crew of 80 was formed, and in 2015 the Hermione took the ocean for a 17-day transatlantic crossing. She made calls along the U.S. eastern seaboard at Yorktown, Mount Vernon, Alexandria, Annapolis, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Greenport, Newport, Boston and Castine, then Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, before returning home via Brest and Ile d’Aix.

The crossing itself required a budget of about 5.4 million euros, with 3.15 million coming from American sponsors, partners and other sources.

The voyage was driven by the ship’s sails 95% of the time. A motor built into the replica was used as necessary, particularly to more securely navigate the entrance and exit to ports. Also breaking with tradition, about one-third of the crew members were women.

While the rope factory continues to please and inform visitors of all ages, the Hermione has become the face of the shipyard.

Dockside, visitors can see exhibitions about the ship and watch more or less active workshops regarding the sails, riggings, iron work and historical costumes. One can then step on board without a guide, but tours, given by crew members, are the more interesting way to go, especially if you’d like to know hear about sailing the high seas and ask questions about navigation and life onboard. Among those who made the crossing was Geoffrey Laulan, who started as a volunteer and has become one of the Hermione’s professional crew members.

Only one of the canons is an authentic 18th-century canon. The others are reproductions, unusable with cannonballs but suitable for fireworks displays.

In addition to regular visits, the Hermione also host’s special events, such as dinner events and concerts.

With Rochefort as its home port, the Hermione will set out from February to June 2018 for a voyage down the Atlantic coast and into the Mediterranean. It will call at La Rochelle, Tanger, Barcelona, Sète, Toulon, Marseille, Port Vendres, Portimao and Bordeaux, before returning home to Rochefort on June 16.

No frigate worth its salt would be complete with a ship’s cat.

The Raft of the Medusa

Less photogenic but claiming high historical honors in its own right is the replica of another French frigate called the Méduse (Medusa). Not the ship itself, actually, but the raft that was created from the ship’s masts and yards when the Medusa ran aground on a sandbank 50 miles off the coast of Mauritania while on its way to Senegal in 1816.

The outline of the true story of the raft of the Medusa is well known in France. It’s known through history books as well as art books, and especially through The Raft of the Medusa (Le Radeau de la Méduse) a large painting by Théodore Géricault (1791-1824), created while the news was still fresh. Today the painting is likely seen but ignored by most of the millions of visitors who come each year to the Louvre since it hangs in the gallery of monumental French paintings behind that of the Mona Lisa.

The Medusa was not built in Rochefort, rather at a shipyard in the estuary of the Loire River, just upstream from the modern-day shipyard of Saint Nazaire. But it was from Rochefort that the Medusa set out in 1816 on a mission to take control of Senegal, which the Treaty of Vienna had awarded to France. It was captained—poorly, cowardly and fatally—by an aristocrat who hadn’t commanded a ship in 25 years.

After a succession of navigational errors the frigate ran aground on a sandbar 50 miles from the coast. In order to lighten the ship, the captain commanded that a tremendous raft be made from the Medusa’s masts and yards. But as the ship began to list the captain ordered for the ship to be abandoned. There was a shortage of lifeboats and those were reserved mostly for officers, including the captain. The 151 soldiers and others are ordered onto the make-shift raft with little food and only five barrels of wine as nourishment. The raft, measuring 20 meters by 12 meters (66 feet by 39 feet) was so heavy with passengers that they stood in three feet of water.

If there was ever the intent to have the lifeboats tug the raft, the plan was quickly cut short. The raft was soon detached and went adrift, as the lifeboats made it to shore. Within two days, life aboard the raft was a hell of thigh-high water, extreme heat, delirium, fighting, rebellion and murder, soon followed by suicide and cannibalism as well. When finally spotted 13 days later by a passing ship, only 15 passengers remained. Of those, only seven survived to tell the tale.

The event shook France in 1816 both for the horror of the true tale and for the political scandal of the appointment of an incompetent aristocrat at the ship’s helm. The following year the captain was sentenced to three years in prison, a far cry from the penalty of death that many called for. That year Théodore Géricault began his own painterly investigations that would eventually give rise to his most famous painting. He actually spoke with and sketched some of the survivors in preparing the work.

Géricault’s 7m x 5m (23ft x 16ft) painting, which the Louvre refers to as “the star of the Salon of 1819,” depicts the imagined moment when a ship, potential rescue, is barely perceptible as a dot on the horizon. In that moment, as some die or agonize, the viewers sees an array of reactions and emotions relative to the tragedy and the possibility of rescue, from fatality and despair, it the view sees the human expression of fate of us all, from death to despair to optimism and hope.

In 2014, during the making of a documentary about the history of the Medusa and of Géricault’s painting, a full-scale replica of the raft was created and briefly set afloat. The replica can now be seen in the courtyard of the National Naval Museum at the Rochefort arsenal. On first view, it appears to be a jumbled array of posts and beams, as though something at the museum were under construction. The fuller view is upstairs.

The museum, which occupies the former residence of the Commanders of the Navy at the arsenal, is otherwise dedicated to more glorious moments in Rochefort’s naval history, with many scale models of warships and presentation of technical aspects of the shipyard. A current exhibition, running until November 6, 2018, presents naval uniforms.

Pierre Loti

The facades at 139 and 141 rue Pierre Loti appear as inexpressive as any in old Rochefort. But behind them lie the effusive and theatrical décor of the home of Pierri Loti (1850-1923), Rochefort’s most famous son.

Born Julien Viaud, Pierre Loti was his nom de plume. It might also be considered his stage name. Since childhood he had been interested in theatrics, adventure and exoticism. As Viaud he entered into a long career in the navy, while as Loti he also became an illustrator, a novelist, a travel journalist, a photographer, a collector (hoarder may be a better term for what he amassed) and a socialite. Throughout it all he was a traveler: Algeria, Turkey, Tahiti, Senegal, Japan, China, Morocco, Syria, Palestine, India, Egypt and more.

Loti liked to have himself photographed in the costumes of the places he visited, as in the two examples shown here. Nowadays, someone like Loti might become a master of the selfie and a million-hit travel blogger with his own travel show during which we’d occasionally see him hobnobbing with the titled and the famous from around the world. Loti himself was not famous merely for being famous, as would be the case today’s social networker. His fame came from the success of his writing, hence his election to the Académie Française. Though his novels have been largely forgotten, written in a bygone style, there is a brilliant level of detail and discovery in them.

He grew up on the street that now bears his assumed name, in the house that he would eventually purchase from his mother and transform in his own image. He later purchased the adjacent house. Each room was decorated to be reminiscent of a different time or place: the Chinese room, the Gothic room, the Japanese Pagoda, the Mosque, the Renaissance room, etc. He wrote little about Rochefort itself, but his work is rich with the outward-looking gaze that growing up in a port town in the mid-19th century might evoke: the desire to encounter distant lands and distant peoples, and the need to bring home pieces of foreign cultures.

Unfortunately for current visitors to Rochefort, Loti’s house, a historical monument belonging to the town, is closed to the public. Shuttered since 2012 because it requires thorough restoration and structural work and the hefty financing (about 12 million euros) to do so, the house won’t reopen before 2020.

In the meantime, the town’s Hèbre de Saint-Clément Museum provides an excellent introduction to the colorful character that was Loti and to his unusual home.

The Hèbre de Saint-Clément Museum

Nothing is more off-putting to a foreign visitor than a museum with a forgettable, multi-syllabic name, in this case that of the aristocrat who once owned the property. So ignore the name, but don’t forget that you’re in Rochefort because while this eclectic public museum might appear to be a handsome repository of random-abelia, its diverse parts offer a vision of the town’s history of seafaring, expeditions, colonialization and an interest in distant lands.

There’s a nod to The Young Girls of Rochefort, of course, but more importantly a thorough glimpse of Pierre Loti and a virtual visit to his house. The museum also presents a small beaux-arts collection, a display of objects handed down over the generations from a seafaring ancestor, and contemporary works from Oceania. The latter reminds visitors that there is more to Aboriginal art than the curiosity of colonizers but that vibrant arts and culture remain in areas that are far-flung from our point of view.

Restaurants, hotels, tourist information

For further tourist information about Rochefort and nearby sights along the Atlantic coast see the site of the Rochefort Ocean Tourist Office, Avenue Marie-François Sadi Carnot, 17300 Rochefort. Tel. 05 46 99 08 60.

Information about the wider area which includes Rochefort, Saintes and La Rochelle can be found on the site of the Charente-Maritime Tourist Board.

For an easy-going lunch or tea-time stop while at the arsenal, Les Longitudes, next to the Royal Rope Factory / Corderie Royale is open daily April to mid-November and during the Christmas-New Year holiday period. Otherwise closed weekends as well as early January to mid-February. Tel. 05 46 87 56 15.

In town, Patrick Bonnaud prepares finer cuisine at Les Quatres Saisons, 76 rue Grimaux, 17300 Rochefort. Tel. 05 46 83 95 12. Open Tuesday-Saturday.

A 20-minute drive from Rochefort by a little lake in the village of Trizay, Les Jardins du Lac is an attractive and friendly choice for seasonal gastronomy, prepared by Yohann Suire. 3 chemins Fontchaude, 17250 Trizay. Tel. 05 46 82 03 56. Open Tuesday-Saturday lunch and dinner and Sunday lunch. The restaurant is part of the Suire family’s quiet 3-star hotel of the same name.  The hotel also has a heated swimming pool.

Back in heart of Rochefort there’s the 3-star Hotel Roca Fortis, 14 rue de la République, 17300 Rochefort. Tel. 05 46 99 26 32.

While some drive from Rochefort to La Rochelle and others to Saintes and points beyond, then this writer the train to Cognac. But that’s a whole other story.

© 2017, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Rochefort: Ships, Shipyards and Seafarers appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

“I loved its coldness and its glitter,” she says showing the fine gold-varnished coil that she’ll cut in pieces to embroider like pearls onto fabric. “When I held it in my hands I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t find this vocation; this vocation found me.”

That vocation is gold embroidery. Thirty years later, Deschamps is France’s premier master of the craft—and the art. She holds the prestigious title Maître d’Art (Master Artist), which is awarded sparsely by the Ministry of Culture in recognition of those with unparalleled known-how of an uncommon craft and who practice it to an exceptional degree of excellence.

Since receiving the title in 2010, numerous haute couture and luxury good houses have come knocking at the door of Le Bégonia d’Or, the small workshop she oversees in Rochefort (Charente-Maritime).

When this visitor came knocking she immediately put away her high-tech magnifying eyewear and hid from sight the prototypes that she and her fellow gold embroiderer Marlène Rouhard were developing for luxury watchmaker Piaget. Exclusivity breeds confidentiality. Yet beyond such contractual obligations, Deschamps and Rouhard are welcoming, personable and quick to share their passion for their work.

Rochefort, a town of 25,000 in Charente-Maritime best known for its historic naval dockyard founded in 1666 and the 1967 musical comedy “The Young Girls of Rochefort,” would seem more apt to teach the twisting of hemp into rope to hoist sails then in delicate embroidery with cannetille or gold thread. But in this town once brimming with military uniforms bearing stripes and braids, fine embroidery was part of the fabric of the military economy. Restoration work then became a (small) part of the post-military economy.

Development of a Master Artist

Rochefort’s Lycée d’Enseignement Professionnel Jamain is France’s only vocational high school offering a diploma in gold thread embroidery. Both Deschamps, 45, and Rouhard, 33, studied there.

Diploma in hand in 1989, Deschamps immediately found work at Etablissements Bouvard et Duviard in Lyon, a workshop specialized in the restoration of religious vestments and other antique fabrics. Her time there deepened her understanding of embroidery’s technical and artistic aspects from as early as the 14th century. When her mentor there retired, Deschamps, still in her early twenties, became the “first hand” of the workshop, managing national and international orders and doing design work as well.

In 1995, after 6 years in Lyon, Deschamps returned to Rochefort for family reasons and entered a program to become an assistant professor at the vocational school where she’d once studied. But just two weeks in—and shortly after the creation of the gold embroidery workshop Le Bégonia d’Or by Marie-Hélène César with support from the town of Rochefort—the workshop’s first director left, and Deschamps was in the right place at the right time, with the right skills and experience, to assume the position. The craft that had found her at age 15 now found her at the head of a small workshop at age 24.

Le Bégonia d’Or

Le Bégonia d’Or (The Gold Begonia) has gold in its name because gold represents the pinnacle of the craft that has long had its place in Rochefort. As to begonia, it, too, is intimately related to Rochefort’s maritime history. An expedition to the Caribbean in 1688 under the patronage of Michel Bégon, intendant of the navy at Rochefort, gave birth to the classification of plants previously unknown to Europeans. One of them would be named begonia, after the expedition’s sponsor. (See this article about the Begonia Conservatory in Rochefort and this article about sights and people relative to Rochefort’s maritime history.)

Le Bégonia d’Or is a non-profit association that operates like a small business. In addition to original and restoration work, it holds workshops and sells embroidery kits and retail supplies. The workshop purchases their precious threads and cannetille from Carlhian, a company in Lyon created in 1870 to serve the silk trade. The company, known for its gold and silver thread, braids and trimmings, is the only producer in France of this range of gold products. Le Bégonia d’Or, in addition to using them in its own work, is the only retailer in France of Carlhian’s products.

Sylvie Deschamps demonstrate embroidery with gold cannetille in this France Revisited Minute.

Knocking at the master’s door

It its early days, Le Bégonia d’Or was primarily called upon to restore the embroidery on military garments. There was also work restoring religious vestments (though Lyon is especially known for that type of work) and heraldic banners. Then as the reputation of the workshop and of Deschamps’ expertise grew so did the diversity of work requested of Le Bégonia d’Or.

A major turning point, both personally for Deschamps and for Le Bégonia d’Or (the reputation of the two is intimately intertwined), came in 2010 when Deschamps received the title Maître d’Art by then-Minister of Culture Frédéric Mitterand. The title is akin to the National Living Treasures of Japan regarding craftsmanship. Since its creation in 1994, only 132 men and women in France have earned the title of Maître d’Art, which one holds for life.

“It’s the reward of a long career,” says Deschamps. “I needed to show that I was capable of restorations, of contemporary creation and of performing techniques of great difficulty.”

The workshop now counts major brands in haute couture and luxury ready-to-wear among its clients: Chanel, Dior, Versace, Valentino, Ferraud, Saint Laurent, and others. Deschamps has also performed detail work on bags for Louis Vuitton, necklaces for Cartier and watches for Piaget.

“It’s thanks to the title that luxury houses came knocking at my door,” says Deschamps. “I would never have seen them otherwise.” The title not only brought these high-end clients but in some cases also created the need for gold embroidery. “We became a think tank for new ideas where a luxury house would say, ‘I need a Master Artist for this project and here’s a gold embroidery Master Artist, so how about integrating some gold thread embroidery into a watch or into a necklace.’ What I love is taking on the challenges that others aren’t able to take.”

She gives as an example a Philippe Starck project that involved her placing gold embroidery on the thick leather for a couch for the Cristal Room in Moscow.

She then goes into a back room of the workshop to bring out an exquisite fragrance bottle. In 2013, for the 160th anniversary of the creation of Guerlain’s emblematic Bee Bottle, originally designed for Empress Eugenia, the fragrance house gave carte blanche to nine Maitres d’Art to create work inspired by the bottle. While the eight others created one-of-a-kind displays for the bottle, Deschamps dared to decorate the bottle itself, wrapping it as though with a transparent imperial cape embroidered with golden bees. (At the time of this interview Deschamps was briefly in possession of the exquisite bottle as it is in transit between an exhibition and its owner who purchased it from Guerlain.)

The master and her student

“Having the title opens doors,” she says. “It gives access to fabulous places where art has its rightful place. It gives real visibility and prestigious orders.”

It also carries with it the obligation of taking on a student to whom the title-holder transmits her know-how, her savoir-faire.

Deschamps didn’t have to look far for her student. Marlène Bouhaud was already here, working alongside and being mentored by Deschamps at the Bégonia d’Or for five years before Deschamps received the title Maître d’Art. Recognizing each other as master and student was simply a formality, one that also placed Bouhaud in a class of her own among the gold embroiders in France.

Bouhaud was already familiar with sewing and embroidery from an early age through family heritage, but it was an encounter with Sylvie Deschamps at the age of 15 that gave her a glimpse of the beauty that could be created with gold and silver embroidery. Like Dechamps at that age, Bouhaud also felt drawn to the feel and shine of gold cannetille.

While still a teenager she showed Deschamps some of her embroidery work. Says Deschamps, “When I saw that I said to myself ‘Wow!’ What she’d done was already perfectly executed, with a regularity in the embroidery that already pleased me. Later on, when she completed a training workshop [at the Begonia d’Or], I saw that she had rare qualities: she was an excellent technician and she was passionate.”

Deschamps welcomed her in as a salaried employee in 2005.

There is additionally a third set of hands working at Le Bégonia d’Or, those of Thierry Tarrade. He embroiders as well, though not at the level of Deschamps and Marlène, and is largely involved with organizing training workshops and conducting initiation and intermediate workshops (levels 1 and 2). He also happens to be Deschamps’ companion in life. They first met 30 years ago, at the same time that she encountered the gold cannetille.

Deschamps hesitates when asked if she would be willing to take on another student to the extent that she has with Rouhaud.

“I don’t know. It happened so naturally with Marlène because she’s passionate about the work. It would have to be the rare pearl with both the technical aptitude and the passion,” she says. “Every ten years there might be someone about whom I’d say ‘Oh, she’s got something that the others don’t have.’ Still, even with the rare pearl I don’t feel that I’d have the time.”

The Future of the Bégonia d’Or

To hear Deschamps and Rouhaud speak about the intricacies of their work and the number of hours required for each piece, it’s a wonder that there are enough hours in the day to accomplish all they do. Meanwhile, they continually develop new projects. Le Bégonia d’Or is now a trademark for jewelry and other works. Their pride themselves on a production that is 100% French: leather from Paris, buttons from Jura, gold thread from Lyon, design, embroidery, creation at the Le Bégonia d’Or.

“We aren’t functionaries of embroidery, that’s for sure,” says Deschamps. “But it’s true, we both lack time for research, sampling and creating unique pieces.”

Deschamps workshop remains a small structure, and despite its sizable reputation there’s competition in this rarefied domain in France. Students graduating from Rochefort’s vocational school program with a diploma in gold embroidery, perhaps a dozen per year, may find work in the luxury and restoration fields.

“What will save the workshop in the future is its ability to respond to orders that others aren’t able to treat because they don’t have technical expertise or the innovative techniques to do so. Because that requires veritable sacrifice. Yet it’s the work we love to do, Marlène and I. We like to be pushed to the extreme of what is most difficult. The challenges change and we have to be able to meet those challenges. And that’s great!”

Rouhaud, now 33, is a trusted student and co-worker. “She’ll eventually be able to take over if she wants,” says Deschamps.

Asked if she dreams of being one day named Master Artist in her own right, Rouhaud says that it’s too early to think about. She says that she still has much to learn technically from Deschamps and that she must especially develop her creativity with respect to embroidery. Furthermore, in order to become a Master Artists in the same field she would have to be capable of proving that she brings something to the art that her current master doesn’t have. A high bar indeed!

Where does a Master Artist go from here?

“I was never avid about entering competitions,” says Deschamps, “but I’d like to enter another competition through the Bettencourt Schueller Foundation called Intelligence de la Main [Intelligence of the Hand].” The Liliane Bettencourt Prize rewards savoir-faire, creativity and innovation in the field of creative craftwork based on a specific work and is open to French and foreign craftsmen living in France. “Now I have to find the idea and the time.”

Asked if she can imagine practicing her moveable skills elsewhere than in Rochefort, Deschamps says that for now she’s happy to be here and to develop the workshop. “I believe deeply in the potential of this town,” she says. “This town has some beautiful tools and needs only play its cards right to become better known.”

Rochefort’s historical reputation has long been as a place that one left to sail elsewhere. Even the movie “The Young Girls of Rochefort” takes as its premise that the girls in question want to leave town. Now, though, thanks to the construction of the replica of the 18th-century frigate the Hermione which calls this its home port; thanks to showcases of its maritime history at The Royal Ropeworks and the Maritime Museum; thanks to the presence of Europe’s most important begonia collection, and thanks to the growing reputation of Le Bégonia d’Or and its Master of Art, the pleasant town of Rochefort has become a destination in its own right.

Le Bégonia d’Or
Bureau 11
10 rue du Dr Peletier
17300 Rochefort
Tel. 05 46 87 59 36
www.broderieor.com
The workshop may be visited by appointment only, Monday-Friday.

Also see Rochefort: Ships, Shipyards and Seafarers and Without Rochefort There Would Be No Begonias.

© 2017, Gary Lee Kraut.

An earlier version of this article appeared in The Connexion.

The post Sylvie Deschamps, France’s Master Artist of Gold Embroidery appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Well, the plant, a genus comprised of more than 1500 species, would exist; it would just be called something else. And if it weren’t known as the begonia then it might not be to Rochefort that you’d come looking for the Begonia Conservatory, Europe’s most important collection of the genus.

Admittedly, only a died-in-the-wool, rain-or-shine garden-lover or botanical brainiac would actually come to Rochefort solely for the begonias. But there you have it, begonias in Rochefort—and with good reason, too.

Allow me to explain.

Rochefort’s begonia connection

In 1666 the dynamic duo of France’s golden century, Louis XIV and his right-hand minister Colbert, seeing the need for France to become a maritime power as the European powers developed trade with and possessions in the New World, launched the creation of a naval dockyard at Rochefort. (See this article for more about sights and people related to Rochefort’s maritime history.)

One of the administrators overseeing the development of the town and dockyard was Michel Bégon, Rochefort’s intendant from 1688 to 1710. Numerous expeditions to the New World, in particular the Caribbean, would set out from Rochefort during those years. Having spent several years on the islands himself earlier in his career, Bégon had a keen interest in scientific discoveries made during expeditions there.

Among the scientists on several expeditions setting out from Rochefort and sponsored by Bégon was the botanist-monk Charles Plumier. Plumier not only recorded details about a number of plants previously unknown to Europeans, he was also the first person to make botanical dedications, by which a plant would be named in someone’s honor. Among the best known of the plants that Plumier named are the fuchsia, named for the German botanist Leonhard von Fuchs, the magnolia, named for French botanist Pierre Magnol, and, you guessed it, the begonia named for Michel Bégon.

Bégon probably never actually saw a real begonia himself, unless he accidentally stepped on one during his years in the Caribbean. Plumier brought back drawings rather than actual plants due to the difficulty of transporting them alive. In fact, the first begonias didn’t arrive in Europe until nearly a full century later, when in 1777 some were brought to the Royal Botanical Garden at Kew, starting a British love affair with the begonia long before the French. Plumier’s own name is largely forgotten, though he was eventually honored with the genus plumeria, the Central and South American native more commonly called the frangipani.

The Begonia Conservatory

Rochefort’s world-class collection began with the gift of an amateur begonia collector, Vincent Millerioux, to the town in 1986. At the time, the town was creating a horticultural zone on its edge covering 100 acres, which would be leased in parcels to horticultural businesses. Greenhouses of the Begonia Conservatory came to anchor the site.

When the town sought someone to organize and then oversee the conservatory, Patrick Rose, who had previously worked with Millerioux for his private collection, was the natural choice. Rose remains at the head of the conservatory and is a recognized world specialist on the genus. From Millerioux’s original collection of 250 species of begonia, the conservatory greenhouses now holds nearly 600 species from nature and 1000 more hybrids created from 1845 to the present. Labelled “national collection,” this is considered the most important begonia collection in Europe.

The conservatory has many plants that have grown to a size that visitor don’t often see in botanical gardens. There are sure to be some plants in flower whatever time of year one visits, but Rose says that the interest of the collection is the diversity and particularly the diversity of the leaves, rather than whether or not they are in flower. Despite the floral consonance of his own name, Rose says that he’s more interested in the diversity of leaves within the genus rather than its flowers. He says that he is especially fond of the freshness of the vegetation in spring as the days get longer.

Visiting the conservatory

The Conservatoire du Bégonia can be visited February through November on regularly scheduled guided tours. The conservatory gardeners themselves serve as guides. Tours are accessible to the casual visitor while also being informative for the begonia-lover. The passionate visitor, says Rose, is more likely to come from northern Europe rather than France or southern Europe, with curious British visitors leading the way.

The visit is conducted in French, while non-French-speakers join along with an explanatory brochure in English. Nevertheless, groups are often small enough that the gardener-guide, if he speaks adequate English, if often willing answer the questions of non-French-speaking visitors. Pre-constituted groups should call and ask to have one of the more fluent English-speaking gardeners as their guide.

Le Conservatoire du Bégonia
La Prée Horticole
1 rue Charles Plumier
17300 Rochefort
Tel. 05 46 82 40 30
www.begonia.rochefort.fr
The conservatory is open February through November. See the website for regularly scheduled tours, entrance fees and opening times.

For another exceptional place and individual in Rochefort read Sylvie Deschamps, France’s Master Artist of Gold Embroidery. Also read Rochefort: Ships, Shipyards and Seafarers.

© 2017, Gary Lee Kraut

An earlier version of this article was published in The Connexion.

The post The Begonia Conservatory: Without Rochefort There Would Be No Begonias appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.