A Burgundian Crown: 1050 Years of Whispering Stones & Golden Vines

Step through the wrought-iron gates where nine centuries of nobility still linger in the honeyed stone—a castle not merely built in 1050, but *alive* with the echoes of Burgundy’s golden age. This is no ordinary estate; it is a living tapestry where Nicolas Rolin’s 15th-century restoration brushstrokes mingle with the Clermont-Tonnerre family’s 18th-century glassworks ambition, where every turret and tower bears the scars and splendor of France’s most tumultuous chapters. Now, after a 2005 renaissance that polished its grandeur to a mirror’s sheen, it awaits its next custodian—one who hears the call of history and the promise of legacy.

The castle rises in two solemn, rectangular embrace—their obtuse angle cradling a spiral staircase turret like a secret held between lovers. To the north and south, twin 14th-century sentinels stand guard: five-storey square towers where arrow slits once watched for invaders, and a northwestern bastion, its massive stone walls still whispering of drawbridges long lowered. Inside, ceilings soar so high they seem to brush the Burgundian sky, while modern whispers—central heating, electric convectors—ensure comfort never disrupts the romance of the past. Here, a Relais Château dreams of being born, or a private kingdom unfolds for those who demand both majesty and intimacy.

Beyond the castle’s threshold, a 4-hectare park unfurls like a royal hunting ground, its walls and wrought-iron gates shielding a world where time bends. Paths meander past murmuring fountains and ornamental gardens, where roses and lavender nod in the breeze as if keeping secrets for the glasshouse blooms nearby. A six-room guest annexe, poised on two levels, offers sanctuary for visitors, while the four-room caretaker’s cottage stands ready to cradle those who tend this paradise. Stables echo with the ghostly neighs of destriers; the carpenter’s shop still smells of oak and ambition; the garage hums with the potential of vintage automobiles gliding up the drive.

And then—there is the land. 2.5 hectares of Burgundy’s sacred soil, already anointed for viticulture, where young vines stretch toward the 2025 sun, promising a private cru of pinot noir or chardonnay bearing *your* name. This is not merely a property; it is a sovereign’s opportunity—to craft wine as the dukes once did, to host soirées where candlelight dances off 15th-century stone, to wake in a turret room as the mist rises over your own forest.

Epinac cradles this jewel in its hills, where the air carries the scent of truffles and the past. The castle has survived revolutions, confiscations, and the guillotine’s shadow—only to emerge more resplendent, its story now yours to inscribe. Will you answer its call?