Passionate about the events of the 1st World War, I was delighted to learn of the existence of this stained-glass window when the Seine-Maritime department announced its list of "Rural Heritage" sites. Let's go and discover it!
As I drive through the pretty, flower-filled village of Saint-Jean-de-Folleville, I head for the church and park in the Mairie parking lot. This is a former presbytery, beautifully constructed in white sandstone and brick. The landscaping is most pleasing, with perfectly trimmed boxwood topiaries. My nostrils perk up as I pass the fragrant rosebushes. An excellent start to the visit! As I tread the ancient cobblestones, I spot the "rural heritage label" totem at the entrance to the cemetery. It tells the story of the stained-glass memorial window, with explanations and photos that only increase my desire to discover it.
Pushing open a black gate, I walk along the wall of the church, surrounded by the graves of the follevillais. Next to the church porch is a calvary, with the war memorial topped by a war cross not far away.
I push open the church door and discover a place that shimmers in the light of the colored stained-glass windows. In front of me is the altar, with pews arranged on either side of the nave. On my right, close to the confessional, I can see the stained-glass memorial window depicting twenty-five soldiers who fell in battle or died of wounds sustained in the First World War. The military portraits are based on photographic archives of the poilus, except for one whose name is Isidore and whose photo has not been found. I was amazed and moved by the depictions of these lost soldiers, whose gazes will stay with us forever. They are so real, ready to come to life. Each has his first and last name, as well as the place and date of the moment when life stopped for him. Their representation moves me. Some are dressed in combat gear, as if ready to go to the front. Others look at us wearing their caps or kepis, depending on their rank or corps.
I remember leafing through family photo albums with my grandmother, in which I could see my ancestors proudly wearing their military uniforms. There are definitely a lot of emotions running through me.
Combining patriotism and religion, a soldier is depicted in agony in the center of the work, in the arms of a nurse, the latter showing him Christ on the cross. The link between religious and patriotic sacrifice is symbolically highlighted in the center of the stained-glass window.
A lectern with a book of remembrance is available to visitors, with personal letters from the poilus in the stained-glass window and archival documents. I find myself reading some of them. With their beautiful handwriting, it's as if the lost soldiers come to life again through their thoughts.
I close the door of the church softly, full of emotion, with the tragic memories of our French history fresh in my mind. As I drive back to my car, I become aware of the need for remembrance, and tell myself that we are fortunate to have at our disposal so many memorial sites from the 1st and 2nd World Wars, which left their mark on our Normandy region.
As I drive through the pretty, flower-filled village of Saint-Jean-de-Folleville, I head for the church and park in the Mairie parking lot. This is a former presbytery, beautifully constructed in white sandstone and brick. The landscaping is most pleasing, with perfectly trimmed boxwood topiaries. My nostrils perk up as I pass the fragrant rosebushes. An excellent start to the visit! As I tread the ancient cobblestones, I spot the "rural heritage label" totem at the entrance to the cemetery. It tells the story of the stained-glass memorial window, with explanations and photos that only increase my desire to discover it.
Pushing open a black gate, I walk along the wall of the church, surrounded by the graves of the follevillais. Next to the church porch is a calvary, with the war memorial topped by a war cross not far away.
I push open the church door and discover a place that shimmers in the light of the colored stained-glass windows. In front of me is the altar, with pews arranged on either side of the nave. On my right, close to the confessional, I can see the stained-glass memorial window depicting twenty-five soldiers who fell in battle or died of wounds sustained in the First World War. The military portraits are based on photographic archives of the poilus, except for one whose name is Isidore and whose photo has not been found. I was amazed and moved by the depictions of these lost soldiers, whose gazes will stay with us forever. They are so real, ready to come to life. Each has his first and last name, as well as the place and date of the moment when life stopped for him. Their representation moves me. Some are dressed in combat gear, as if ready to go to the front. Others look at us wearing their caps or kepis, depending on their rank or corps.
I remember leafing through family photo albums with my grandmother, in which I could see my ancestors proudly wearing their military uniforms. There are definitely a lot of emotions running through me.
Combining patriotism and religion, a soldier is depicted in agony in the center of the work, in the arms of a nurse, the latter showing him Christ on the cross. The link between religious and patriotic sacrifice is symbolically highlighted in the center of the stained-glass window.
A lectern with a book of remembrance is available to visitors, with personal letters from the poilus in the stained-glass window and archival documents. I find myself reading some of them. With their beautiful handwriting, it's as if the lost soldiers come to life again through their thoughts.
I close the door of the church softly, full of emotion, with the tragic memories of our French history fresh in my mind. As I drive back to my car, I become aware of the need for remembrance, and tell myself that we are fortunate to have at our disposal so many memorial sites from the 1st and 2nd World Wars, which left their mark on our Normandy region.
Openings
Openings
All year 2025
