In about 1650, three brothers left Rouen, France and joined a sailing expedition to the thriving French settlement of Quebec.  They were roofers, and as such, made a thriving business in the emerging French colony.  Their descendants would spread to Montreal, Ottawa, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island, and from those haunts, the Boivins spread throughout North America, into Mexico and among various Caribbean islands.  Today, the surname is common enough, and when I last checked, there were twelve of me, in various parts of North America.

Rouen is a thriving and picturesque city, on the western course of the Seine River, as it heads towards the sea, hence the name of the department:  La Seine-Maritime.  It is perhaps best known to the wider world as the place where English King Henry VI ordered Jeanne d’Arc to be burned at the stake, for “witchcraft” and “heresy”.  It is that, but is also vibrant, welcoming and forward-looking, with strong links to Le Havre, at the mouth of the Seine, in fostering French commerce.

My ancestors were recorded as having been baptized at L’Eglise St. Sauveur.  It was destroyed during the French Revolution, but its ruins have been maintained by the state, first under orders from Napoleon I and by his successors, both regal and presidential.  A new church, honouring St. Jeanne d’Arc, stands at the site of St. Sauveur.

The evening prior to the 70th anniversary of D-Day gave me time to get acquainted with this ancestral home.  Here are some scenes of the evening of June 5.

I arrived in Rouen at La Gare Rive Droite, a reference to its location on the right bank of the Seine.

I  walked across the square, wandering a bit before getting clear directions to Hotel Morand.  Here is Place de la Gare.

There were a few short blocks to be crossed, before the district of my hotel.  On the way, I passed Tour Jeanne d’Arc, where the great young lady was held captive.  I will have much more to say about her, and the Donjon, in a subsequent post.

Many of the houses in this district are rather Hanseatic in style, reflecting the Norse influence on Rouen.

I also passed by L’Eglise St. Maclou, one of about 20 which make up an alliance of parishes in Rouen.

One of Rouen’s great buildings looks like a church, and used to be one (L’Eglise St. Antoine), but it was desanctified by the Jacobins in 1790, and is now the home of Musee Secq des Tournelles.  It displays the quality ironwork of Normandy.

After passing the plaque which honours the liberation of Rouen, by the Allies, in 1944,

I came to the city’s largest church: Abbatiale St.  Ouen.  Note the severe Gothic exterior.

The interior is absolutely delightful, with all the stained glass one could want, and a heavenly organ-trumpet.

Here is “Christ as an Apparition to St. Peter”.

A passageway leads from the baptismal font to the street.

Next, are a couple of examples of Norman metalwork.  This is a receptacle for Lenten ashes.

Here is some wrought iron, at the communion rail.

Lastly, here is the altar.

In the garden between the church and Rouen’s City Hall, there were several young people relaxing and playing various games.  Looking on was the first Duke of Normandy:  Rollo.

Rollo’s Viking compatriots communicated with runes.  Here is a copy of a runestone, sent to Rouen by Denmark.

Across from Place Hotel de Ville is a smaller church, L’Eglise St. Marc.

As i walked back towards the hotel, to meet a taxi taking me to my evening appointment, I spotted Lycee Pierre Corneille.  The author of “Le Cid” was a native of Rouen, and is proudly honoured with this school and a museum devoted to his life and work. I regret not getting to visit that establishment.

Near the Museum of Natural History, a small park has this imposing work.  It is a monument to the French farmer.

I crowned the evening by visiting with the Baha’is of Rouen, on the occasion of one of our Spiritual Feasts, which mark the beginning of a new month on our spiritual calendar.  We offer devotions, discuss various internal matters and then enjoy fellowship and refreshments. The gentleman in the photo introduced the Baha’i Faith to the Canary Islands.  Several of his family members, including his widow (rear, underneath picture), are serving the Faith in Rouen.

This was the perfect ending to an exciting day.

NEXT:  A Morning Walk in Rouen

June 4, 2014-  Upon finding that the rain had stopped, I set out from my hotel room for Trocadero, the near west Parisian neighbourhood with exquisite views of  Le Tour Eiffel, and a smaller, but no less tantalizing garden, replete with fountains.  There is a National Theatre here, and some important museums.  One, the Museum of Man, is under renovation, though, and will not reopen until next year.  Trocadero is so named, in commemoration of the restoration of the Spanish Bourbon King Ferdinand VII to his throne, with French help, in the 1830’s.  The present Palais de Chaillot was built in the 1930’s, to replace the demolished Palais du Trocadero, as a concert hall.

Here are some scenes of Trocadero, taken while I was waiting for my Baha’i friends. This is  La Theatre Nationale, or Palais de Chaillot, a large concert hall.

Anne de Bretagne, inspired this sculpture, entitled “The Midas Touch”.

This is an eastward view of Le Tour Eiffel, from the top of Trocadero’s hill.

As is evident, the sweep of Trocadero’s canals, fountains and gardens makes it the perfect place to while away an evening, and many Parisiens do.

The rural origins of Chaillot are not forgotten here, and busts of animals grace two of the fountains.  This is “Chevaux et Chien”, or “Two Horses and a Dog.”

Several of the statues are risque.  This one is called “The Naked Musicians”.  French people today can get quite saucy with one another, but they were demure and modest around visitors like me.

At 6 PM sharp, my Baha’i escorts arrived to take me to the apartment where our Exemplar, ‘Abdu’l-Baha, Who was Baha’u’llah’s eldest son and immediate successor, stayed during the first of His three visits to Paris, in 1911.

To get to this apartment, on the north side of Trocadero, we went through a peaceful garden, some of it arranged in Japanese style.  ‘Abdu’l-Baha,  to Whom we refer sometimes as the Master, enjoyed taking walks in this garden, each day.

We also relished this garden walk, then came to the likeness of Luis do Camoes, the Bard of Portugal, for whom the street, on which the apartment is located, is named.

The apartment is viewed as a sacred place for Baha’is, and is open by appointment, a couple of days per week.  I feel very honoured to have visited and prayed there.

My younger host was not putting up his hand to stop the photo, but was engaged in making a point of information.

These two thumbnail photos of ‘Abdu’l-Baha came out more dignified than the others I took of His full countenance, which had a glare to them.

After prayers and delicious tea and cookies, we left the same way we came, through the lovely garden.

My time in Paris was growing short, and this visit was one of the most perfect ways to end it. The following morning, I would visit the National Center of the Baha’is of France, then catch a train to Rouen, home of my paternal ancestors on the grandpaternal side.