Commemorating Loigny: Catholic Memory in France, 1870-1914



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Loigny was therefore interpreted by Charette and many volontaires as another episode in the zouave epic that stretched back to Castelfidardo. Charette’s memoirs are tellingly entitled Souvenir du régiment des zouaves pontificaux: Rome 1860-70, France 1870-1871 and no distinction is made between those who fell in 1860-70 and the dead of 1870-71, not least as the brief notices and accompanying photographs in the second volume do not respect chronological order.49 Loigny was fully celebrated in the ‘silver anniversary celebrations’ Charette organised at his château of Basse-Motte in 1885.50 Loigny was assimilated to the zouave legend and the discourse on Loigny is only fully intelligible in light of this legend. A zouave reading of Loigny quickly took shape. With the injured Charette taken prisoner and his natural successor Fernand de Troussures dead, Augustin d’Albiousse, who had fought at Mentana in 1867, took command of the regiment and issued an unequivocal communiqué:
La guerre que nous subissons est une guerre d'expiation, et Dieu a déjà choisi parmi nous les victimes les plus nobles et les plus pures....retrempons notre courage dans nos convictions religieuses et plaçons notre espoir dans la divine Sagesse, dont les secrets sont impénétrables, mais qui nous fait une loi de l'espérance….C'est par un acte de foi que la France est née sur le champ de bataille de Tolbiac; c'est par un acte de foi qu'elle sera sauvée et tant qu'il y aura dans notre beau pays un Christ et une épée, nous avons droit d'espérer. Quoi qu'il arrive, avec l’aide de Dieu et pour la patrie, restons ici ce que nous étions à Rome, les dignes fils de la fille aînée de l'Église.51
The familiar concepts of expiation and the providential action of God as the determinant of history are clearly apparent, as was the assertion of France’s Catholic tradition in the reference to Tolbiac. (Tolbiac marked the inception of Catholic and monarchical France - a providential victory of the Franks over the invading Alamans, followed by the baptism of Clovis as first Christian king of France). Just as in 1860-70, the innocent blood of the Volontaires served to expiate the sins of a fallen France, a France who had betrayed her Christian mission.

Heroic defeat and expiation fitted perfectly together. Indeed, arguably defeat had brought the zouaves more fully into the Christian enterprise. In 1865 Mgr. Louis Deschamps of Namur declared that general Christophe Léon de Lamoricière, the original leader of the papal armies, had died defeated: ‘Vaincu, oui; mais comme on l’est sur le Calvaire, comme on l’est sur la Croix.’52 The zouaves/Volontaires were distinctive precisely because they were aligned with the true Christian traditions of France. The logic of this position was apparent: the defeat of France represented the divine scourging of an apostate nation. Her unworthy soldiers were representatives of an unworthy nation. Sonis insisted on this point, writing to Freycinet, ‘si les Français d’aujourd’hui eussent été dignes du glorieux passé de leur pères, le pays eût pu.…repousser l’invasion.…la France n’a pas été digne d’elle-même.’53 Behind this concept of a France that had lost her way lay a counter-revolutionary perspective. Mgr. Charles Émile Freppel, bishop of Angers, consecrating a monument to Lamoricière in 1879 argued that in 1789 France had fatefully departed from her ‘historic and traditional way.’54 Nicolas Vagner, the father of a zouave who had disappeared at Loigny, wrote in May 1871, ‘Pauvre France! À quelles tristes destinées t’ont réduite 80 ans d’enseignement irréligieux….le fondateur de l’Église a attendu une réforme, une conversion de la France; mais notre folle patrie gangrenée ne s’est point repentie et Dieu s’est lassé.’55


III
Loigny was, however, a potent myth in its own right. Moreover, it impacted on the zouave legend, introducing important new ingredients to the existing myth. Loigny marked the moment when the zouaves became inextricably linked to the cult of the Sacred Heart, a penitential devotion that flourished spectacularly during l’année terrible. Alexandre Legentil, who led the Vœu National movement to build a church of the Sacred Heart in Paris to symbolise the repentance of the French nation, was in part inspired by Loigny.56 Henry Dérely, a zouave capitain, wrote, ‘Loigny, n’a pas été une victoire pour l’armée de la ‘Défense Nationale’ qui n’avait pas appelé le Dieu de Clothilde à la rescousse; mais Loigny était une victoire du Christ aussi bien que Tolbiac. Le Sacré-Cœur, ce jour-là, s’est emparé de l’âme de France.’57 At the fiftieth anniversary of the regiment, celebrated in the great basilica of the Sacred Heart in Montmartre, Legentil’s ultimate achievement, Albiousse argued that the zouaves had served the Church in France, ‘inaugurating on the battlefield the military cult of the Sacred Heart’.58 From the perspective of the zouaves/Volontaires, Loigny was not merely about courage, military glory and expiatory sacrifice, but about sacrifice and heroism under the flag of the Sacred Heart. Loigny recast the zouaves as the soliders of the Sacred Heart, reinforcing their unique status.

The classic zouave/Volontaire account of Loigny is consequently centred on the banner of the Sacred Heart. Laurent Bart-Loi’s account begins with what he termed, ‘the mystic prelude’, a conversation between Sonis, Charette, comte Fernand de Bouillé, Édouard de Cazenove de Pradines, Fernand de Troussures and the Dominican chaplain Antonin Doussot on religious matters. For Sonis as for Charette the salvation of France could only be found in the re-Christianisation of France. A few days previously he had written to Charette, ‘Dans ces tristes temps c’est une consolation de mourir au milieu de braves gens comme vous et de pouvoir se dire que Dieu n’abandonne pas la France, puisqu’elle a encore des enfants fidèles.’59 Sonis’ convictions were portrayed on his chosen flag of a white cross on a blue background, but for Charette this was not enough. He had, he informed Sonis, what was required, namely a banner of the Sacred Heart embroidered by the Visitationist nuns of Paray-le-Monial. (The banner was originally intended for Trochu to hang on the walls of Paris - owing to the siege of Paris it went instead to Charette as ‘commandant of the forces of the West’).60 Sonis accepted the flag, but, on the advice of one of his officers, decided that it should only be displayed in battle - on the grounds that when the canon sounded the irreligious elements of his 17th Corps would not feel inclined to laugh. Charette offered the honour of carrying the flag to his friend Bouillé, but the latter declined, given that he was, as he put it, ‘a last-minute worker’, having not previously served in the zouaves. Instead Henri de Verthamon, who had twice asked Charette to dedicate the regiment to the Sacred Heart, was to carry the flag into battle - Bouillé would pick it up when Verthamon fell. In a lethal relay the flag passed from Henri de Verthamon to Fernand de Bouillé to his son Jacques (who succeeded in carrying the banner into Loigny), to Jules de Traversay to Ferdinand Le Parmentier.61 It was the chaplain Doussot who finally brought it back from the battlefield.62 Of the flag-bearers only Le Parmentier and Traversay survived. The blood-stained banner itself became the premier zouave relic and a centrepiece of commemorative ceremonies. In July 1871 the regiment was formally dedicated to the Sacred Heart.

Assimilating the zouaves/Volontaires to the cult of the Sacred Heart was no stretch. The devotion of the Sacred Heart was peculiarly suited to the zouave legend - for although there were certain protective maternal qualities (‘the sanctuary of those who suffer’) to the cult, the ideas of divine punishment and expiation were strong. The Revolution and l’année terrible represented God’s scourging of a France who had repudiated her allotted role as la fille aînee de l’Église.63 Moreover, the Sacred Heart was the symbol of the counter-revolution, the emblem worn by the Vendéens of 1793. Charette himself owned the relic of the emblem of the Sacred Heart worn by his great-uncle François-Athanase at his execution in Nantes.64 Supposedly Louis XVI had vowed to dedicate his kingdom to the Sacred Heart in accordance with the divine wishes transmitted by the visionary Marguerite-Marie Alacoque before going to the scaffold. A force widely identified with royalism and counter-revolution – and not without good reason – became closely aligned with a counter-revolutionary devotion. Certain church figures did not hesitate to bring out the full counter-revolutionary implications of the cult. In 1873 abbé Émile Bougaud, vicaire-général of Orléans (in effect the deputy-bishop) saluted the Volontaires as, ‘a relic of the past, seeds of the future, last remnant of the heroes who made France so great, avant-garde of those who will save her’, but insisted on the necessity of an official dedication of the nation to the Sacred Heart. This would bring about the resurrection of France and renew the pact made with Christ at Reims (i.e. the baptism of Clovis in 496) that had been so fatally abandoned. In a deliberate paraphrase of the counter-revolutionary Louis de Bonald, Bougaud envisioned the substitution the rights of God for the rights of Man.65

The cult of the Sacred Heart was inextricably bound up in a counter-revolutionary context. The involvement of prominent zouaves in the Vœu National movement only underlined this counter-revolutionary orientation. As Raymond Jonas argues, the leading sponsors of the movement, notably the archbishop of Paris, Mgr., later Cardinal, Joseph Hippolyte Guibert, had no interest in extracting the cult from this counter-revolutionary context. Charette, notorious for his legitimism and counter-revolutionary ancestry was invited to serve on the organising committee of the Vœu National to advise Guibert on the construction of the basilica. So too was Sonis, equally well-known for legitimist opinions, though he refused on health grounds. Legitimist Cazenove de Pradines (‘le mutilé de Loigny’), who chose to sit in the National Assembly in zouave uniform with his arm in a sling, enthusiastically sponsored the movement and pushed for the entire Assembly to formally attend the ceremony of the laying of the first stone of the basilica.66 The Vœu National was merely the first step: the true goal was the official consecration of France to the Sacred Heart, to be symbolised by imprinting the image of the Sacred Heart on the national flag. For Charette this necessary regeneration of France would be accomplished by the monarchy.67 In 1873 at Paray-le-Monial Legitimist Gabriel de Belcastel consecrated France to the Sacred Heart in the name of 150 National Assembly deputies who subscribed to his views.

The zouaves/Volontaires enjoyed a privileged position within this devotion, as heroes who marked the path that others should follow. In the ceremonies that accompanied the 30,000 strong 1873 pilgrimage to Paray-le-Monial, site of the apparitions, the zouaves had pride of place (tellingly the reports refer not the Volontaires but to the zouaves). The banner of Loigny hung at the feet of the reliquary of Marguerite-Marie. In a gesture imitated by many pilgrims, Charette and all the zouaves in turn kissed ‘the oriflamme of Patay’ (another not uncommon but telling inaccurate appellation, wilfully conflating Loigny with the nearby Patay, battlefield of Joan of Arc) in the wake of a mass held in the chapel of the Visitation on 12 June.68 In the ceremonial procession that followed the zouaves acted as the guard of honour of the banner of the National Vow – the anonymous author of a detailed account of the proceedings commenting, ‘Quel étendard plus digne de les abriter? Ne sont-ils pas les précurseurs de ce mouvement vers le Sacré-Cœur qui nous vaudra bientôt une église à Montmartre?’ The following day the ten-year old son of Henri de Verthamon read out the original act of consecration of the regiment to the Sacred Heart in the chapel.69 At the high point of the ceremonies, the fête du Sacré-Cœur itself of 20 June, the Jesuit R.P. Félix dilated on the achievement of the zouaves. In their heroism he saw the surest signal of that ‘national movement towards the Sacred Heart’ that he believed would culminate in the public and official dedication of the French nation, ‘the elect of the Sacred Heart’, to the Sacred Heart. He identified the flag of Loigny as the ‘flag of salvation’, stained with the ‘holy relics’ of the zouaves’ blood. Addressing the attendant zouaves and Sonis directly, he concluded, ‘Votre rôle n’est pas fini. Votre drapeau vous a conduits au martyre; il reste de vous conduire à la victoire. Ah! ce drapeau décoré par votre sang, gardez-le bien, gardez-le pour nos heures décisives.…Un jour vous sauverez la France sous le drapeau du Sacré-Cœur!’70 Sonis, in the words of Baunard, ‘one of the apostles, one of the confessors and almost the martyr [of the cult of the Sacred Heart]’, received almost overwhelming popular acclaim.71

Just as Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre was explicitly conceived as an expiatory monument, Loigny was constructed as a great moment of expiatory sacrifice. As we have seen, the zouaves were quick to read their action in this light. So too did Sonis, however keen to argue for a wider military logic. Subsequent zouave/Volontaire memoirs emphasised this idea. Jacquemont wrote,


le fleur de nos rangs fut moissonnée dans ce terrible combat.…[mais] puisqu'ils se sont donnés à [la France] sans regarder en arrière, puisqu'il a fallu, pour expier tant d'erreurs, des victimes si pures et si belles, attendons le jour où Dieu se souviendra de nos sacrifices, et ne désespérons pas.72
At Paray-le-Monial Félix echoed this argument: ‘Au lieu de la victoire, Dieu leur avait prédestiné le martyre dans la défaite; mais cette défaite valait mieux pour la France que la victoire elle-même.…ce sang versé, le meilleur et le plus pur sang de la France, c’était une rançon de la Patrie.’73 Within this logic, another zouave and prolific author of accounts of zouave heroism, Jules Delmas, argued that it was only through the actions of the zouaves/Volontaires that France had survived at all: ‘Aux zouaves [la France] doit d’être encore une nation: Dieu a tenu compte du sang versé pour sa cause et a éloigné le châtiment dont il frappe les peuples qui l’ont renié.’74

As with the original zouaves, the emphasis laid on expiatory sacrifice translated into a fascination with physical pain and bodily suffering.75 Henri de Verthamon died not on 2 December but five days later, wasted by suffering, displaying to the full the acceptance of pain and the abnegation expected of the idealised zouave: ‘combien je regrette de n’être pas mort à Rome pour la religion, pour le Saint Père.…Mais il ne faut que vouloir ce que Dieu veut. Je m’abandonne entièrement à lui.’76 The death of volontaire Victor Charruau, ‘one of these pure and holy sacrificial victims who follow the passion of Jesus Christ and expiate the faults of the world’, had a redemptive quality: abbé Pergeline, vicar general of Nantes, reported that he had prayed to suffer longer to redeem the soul of a friend.77 Yet, the greatest fascination was reserved for the broken and suffering body of Sonis. Sonis exemplified the dolourist Christian tradition, as powerfully expressed in the words of his prayer: ‘J’aime à être brisé, consommé, détruit par vous.…Détruisez et travaillez-moi.…Ô Jésus! Que votre main est bonne, même au plus fort de l’épreuve. Que je sois crucifié, mais crucifié par vous.’78 The general, ‘a glorious image of the mutilated Patrie’, remarkably survived the amputation of his left leg to return to serve in the army despite frequently being in agony.79 Mgr. Maurice d’Hulst, rector of the Catholic Institute of Paris, argued that at Loigny, ‘Sonis entered fully into his vocation as a martyr.’80 In his funeral service Mgr. Charles-Émile Freppel of Angers, summing up his life after Loigny, described a seventeen year-long struggle between ‘a soul made great by suffering and the remains of body that had become incapable of serving it.…martyrdom renewed twenty-fold’.81



Sonis did not merely undergo the loss of his leg with Christian fortitude. Accounts of Loigny also drew attention to the bitter night the general spent on the battlefield, while the zouave Fernand de Ferron expired with his head on his shoulder.82 For Mgr., later Cardinal, Louis-Édouard Pie of Poitiers, such sufferings represented, ‘a victory which cannot be taken from of us and of which Heaven alone knows the price’.83 Sonis recounted that he had been sustained by a vision of Notre-Dame de Lourdes. Accordingly, d’Hulst eulogised, ‘a sublime dialogue between the abandoned soldier and the Queen of Heaven’.84 Charette recounted that when he saw Sonis on the next day, ‘sa belle et noble figure était resplendissante: il était encore sous le coup de la vision qu’il avait eue dans la nuit couché et enseveli dans la neige comme dans un linceul.’85 This episode, combined with Sonis’ unwavering piety (abbé Flavien Theuré admiringly recounted that Sonis praised God when his leg was amputated at the thigh) and the ideas of martyrdom which permeated the discourse on the Loigny and the zouaves, came together in the proposition that Sonis was an actual saint. In 1890, shortly after his death, Baunard produced a hagiographical biography, which ended with the fervent hope that the French army would one day have its own saint. At Sonis’ funeral at Loigny Mgr. Freppel had proved willing to consider the possibility:
[Loigny] sera le pèlerinage du dévouement et la vertu militaire. Je ne sais pas si, à la prière de la foi, Dieu daignera faire germer le miracle dans ces lieux à jamais bénis ; je ne sais pas si l’Église, toujours désireuse de glorifier l’élite de ses fils, ne voudra pas quelque jour faire resplendir d’un plus vif éclat une vie où les vertus chrétiennes se sont élevées jusqu’à l’héroïsme.86
Pilgrims to Loigny took to praying at the tomb of Sonis; in 1890 abbé Roger from Niort made his way to Loigny to seek Sonis’ intercession to cure an illness.87 In 1928 the bishop of Chartres, Raoul Harscouët, would actively take up the case for his beatification.88
IV
The original zouave legend had relied for its propagation on martryologies, press reports (including the diocesan Semaines religieuses and Veuillot’s L’Univers), memoirs and even romantic fiction. Yet the first and in many ways most notable statements of the legend came from funeral sermons preached by churchmen who championed the zouave cause. The ultramontanes Pie and Mgr. Félix Dupanloup of Orléans could fairly claim to have played a major role in shaping the zouave legend.89 Pie, a legitimist and enthusiastic advocate of the Sacred Heart who persuaded Legentil to extend his horizons from a Parisian monument to a national monument, was to play a similar role with regard to Loigny.90 On the first anniversary of Loigny, at the request of Charette, Pie officiated at a service in the memory of the dead in the still-damaged church, in so doing inaugurating a tradition. These annual commemorative services offered an ideal opportunity to fix the legend of Loigny.

After affirming that the disasters of 1870-71 represented the punishment of a nation that had failed in her allotted role and betrayed the papacy, Pie turned to Loigny, ‘a token of hope.…a ray of light in the shades of night’. Loigny was about heroism inspired by faith. Just as with the dead of Castelfidardo, the divine reward of the sacrificial victims of Loigny was not in doubt: ‘to have fallen under the folds of the banner of the Heart of Jesus is to have acquired the privilege of the beloved disciple.’ As with the original zouaves, parallels with the Maccabees were drawn. Yet it was not just those who fell under the banner of the Sacred Heart who were celebrated. Pie consciously aimed to be inclusive, carefully mentioning the engagements of the morning, including Lumeau, and saluted the 37th, the mobiles of the Côtes-du-Nord and the francs-tireurs of Tours and Blidah. God’s indulgence and the prospect of salvation were afforded to all the fallen – ‘special pardons, sudden repentance, spontaneous moments of faith and love’ could be expected - while letters and emblems bore testament to the fact that most had died trusting in God. Pie also looked ahead to the regeneration of France, a regeneration that could only be accomplished through the re-Christianisation of the Patrie: ‘Soyons les hommes du Christ, les combattants, les militants du Christ. À cette condition nous serons les hommes de notre temps, les réparateurs du passé, les reconstructeurs de l’avenir.’91



Subsequent perorations followed many of themes Pie had set out. The deserved chastising of an apostate France was consistently evoked. In 1899 Albert Augereau, canon of Blois, reminded the faithful of Pie’s ‘irrefutable’ analysis of the defeat, citing the second book of Maccabees to the effect that God would punish but not abandon his chosen people.92 There were, however, significant differences. The emphasis placed on the zouaves varied. Though the sermons overall gave a more balanced coverage of Loigny than the pro-zouave accounts, the relative space afforded to the zoauves could obscure the contribution of other forces. In 1884 abbé Beauchet drew attention to the uniqueness of the zouaves, exalting their example and their tradition:
[le régiment] remplit de sa gloire la rude journée de Loigny. Il égale en éclat les exploits des chevaliers et des chrétiens de l’âge héroïque. C’étaient d’ailleurs, pour la plupart, les fils des croisés qui étaient là, confondant, comme eux, dans un même amour, l’Église et la France.93
By way of contrast, in 1889 abbé Gustave-Victor Vié drew attention not only to the zouaves and the 37th regiment, but also to the heroic 39th regiment whose losses amounted to 2,500, and concluded, ‘on the second of December the entirety of France was here.’94 Likewise the space afforded to the flag of the Sacred Heart varied. In 1909 Jesuit Alfred van den Brule, emphasised the full significance of the banner, recalling:
Je fus saisi d’une si indicible émotion que la portant instinctivement à mes lèvres je la baisai comme j’eusse baisé la robe ensanglantée de la France vaincue, que dis-je? Comme j’eusse baisé la robe humiliée et triomphale à la fois de mon saveur Jésus Christ.95
The classic themes of martyrdom and expiation, surprisingly not a pronounced feature of Pie’s address, loomed large in most of the sermons. The zouaves were fully conscious of what they had achieved. As the dying Verthamon put it, ‘It was sublime.… We all knew that we were going to our deaths.…to me it was as though I was ascending to heaven.’96 Loigny was, in this sense, a site of redemption and hope. Lecturing 130 pupils of the Institution de Notre-Dame de Chartres in a service in June 1891, abbé Tissier explained Loigny in terms of glory, expiation and hope. Tissier was not alone in drawing attention to the fact that the zouaves were volunteers. This elevated their sacrifice: ‘c’est là un sacrifice capable d’immortaliser un people, une semence de résurrection.…La voix du sang de ces soldats martyrs crie.…comme la voix du sang divin, vers le ciel, miséricorde et pardon.’97 His fellow teacher, abbé Sylvain Verret, preaching on the actual anniversary of Loigny in the same year, presented the image of ‘Marie, Reine de la France souriant au sacrifice et acceptant au nom de Dieu cette rédemption, et promettant à son peuple régénéré la résurrection et la vie.’ Following this logic through he concluded, ‘Le sang des héros chrétiens peut être aussi un baptistère.…vous croyez que c’est un sépulcre; non, non, c’est un berceau!’ 98 For Augereau salvation was found in the blood of the martyrs of Loigny, blood which appealed to God and the Sacred Heart on behalf of all. 99 In a service specifically devoted to the zouaves, marking the consecration of a monument to the Sacred Heart in the bois des zouaves, Mgr. d’Hulst explained the expiatory logic that animated them:
Pour la France ils ont rêvé la régénération d’abord, et plus tard la délivrance; ils ont espéré que leur sang ne serait pas stérile.…qu’en imitant leur vertus d’autres français se rendraient dignes d’être choisis pour compléter, quand Dieu voudra, la rédemption de leur patrie.100
There was, however, one theme that drowned out all others. Pie and all those who followed him were concerned to impart the crucial lesson that patriotism and religion were inextricably linked. There were two aspects to this argument. The first aspect applied specifically to the zouaves, in terms of the concordance between their actions in 1860-70 and 1870-71. The zouaves, as Pie and Dupanloup had explained in 1860, had upheld the cause of France in Rome. Conversely, the argument went, in fighting for France they had not ceased to be soldiers of the Pope, fighting for the cause of the Church.101 Léon Aubineau stated in L’Univers, ‘[le régiment] ne s’est pas transformé en prenant et élevant son étendard contre nos ennemies. Sans changer de consigne et en restant ce qu’il était, il s’est trouvé français.’102 Referring to their sacrifice at Loigny, Mgr. François Rovérié de Cabrières of Montpellier declared at the fiftieth anniversary celebrations, ‘What a monument you raised to Pius IX !’103 In 1871 Pie insisted that the cause of France could not be separated from the cause of God: ‘Derrière notre patrie humaine, il y a la patrie spirituelle, il y a l’Église, il y a Rome, il y a tous les intérêts catholiques.’104 Yet demonstrating the continuity in the zouaves’ actions was not essential; it was the second aspect of the argument that was key, namely that true patriotism depended upon religion. Abbé Beauchet found in the Volontaires proof that, ‘the most solid, if not the only basis of patriotism is still, has always been, the Christian faith.’105 Vié, comparing the Volontaires to Joan of Arc at Tournelles and Patay, concluded rhetorically, ‘Qui donc avait osé dire que la piété diminuait la bravoure et qu’une jeunesse formée par des prêtres serait moins vaillant? Zouaves de Loigny, vous nous avez bien vengés.’106

This central theme led to a certain tension within these commemorative addresses. On the one hand, lessons of patriotic unity were consistently drawn. In consecrating the rebuilt church of Loigny, for example, Mgr. d’Hulst presented Sonis and Charette as symbolising, ‘the alliance of the national flag with the white banner [of the Sacred Heart]’. The appealing lesson of fraternity was easily made. In 1891 d’Hulst, speaking at a school prize-giving, explained that different forms of education did not divide France:


Aux jours de nos désastres cette fraternité c’est révélée. On n’a pas demandé aux zouaves de Loigny s’ils avaient le droit de déployer la bannière du Sacré-Cœur. Et ceux-là.…n’ont pas demandé à ceux qui combattaient à leurs côtés d’autre certificat que celui de la vaillance et du dévouement.107
On the other hand, it was argued that only religion could inculcate true patriotic values. Verret, for example, arguing that heroism sprang from faith and devotion, presented the true French youth: ‘upright, firm, armed like the very Angel of the Patrie.…proud like Roland, pure like Joan of Arc, dedicated like our zouaves….in his heart he does not separate the love of the Church from the love of France.’108 Vié could praise the unity found at Loigny - reflecting that his audience of representatives of the army, state officials, priests and a bishop displayed a similar diversity - yet turn to argue that not only were the loves of God and Patrie compatible, but that, ‘always, as at Loigny, the most Christian are the most brave.’109 Implicitly or explicitly Henri de Cathelineau’s argument was endorsed: ‘Si dans ces jours d’épreuve, il s’était trouvé plus de soldats chrétiens, nous n’avions pas à pleurer sur le sort de nos frères de l’Alsace de la Lorraine.’110

Although the sermons broadly followed the same lines, and sought to draw common lessons from Loigny, the context in which they were delivered underwent a dramatic shift. Pie’s original address was delivered in the context of a monarchist-dominated National Assembly, many of whom were sympathetic to the Vœu National movement and the associated aim of dedicating the French nation to the Sacred Heart. Pie’s unequivocal statement that a regenerated France could only be a re-Christianised France would have resonated with many deputies. If a restoration was uncertain, given the intransigence of the Pretender, the nature of the new regime was far from settled. By 1879 the Third Republic had not only taken constitutional shape, but was dominated by committed republicans. The anti-clerical offensive of the lois Ferry, designed to render state education secular, sharpened the need to prove the virtues of Catholic principles. There was a shift from a debate over the nature of the new regime and the means to regenerate France to a debate over education and patriotism. In the 1880s and 1890s Loigny was used to demonstrate the virtues of Catholic education. In 1893 d’Hulst argued for the rights of Catholic education: ‘À Loigny, la France et la religion ne font qu’une: entre le patriotisme et la foi, l’alliance est indissoluble.…ne séparez pas ce que le sang des héros a cimenté.’111


V
Pie’s first commemorative efforts were not universally appreciated. Gustave Aubineau, brother in arms of the fallen Joseph Perraud complained:
[Je] m’attendais à quelque chose de plus exclusive. J’aurais voulu.…que les zouaves pontificaux ne soient pas mis.…au même niveau que les autres troupes.…Les zouaves pontificaux étaient les soldats du Sacré-Cœur et personne d’autre.…combattait sous cet emblème sacré: il me semble donc juste qu’un monument exclusivement voué au Cœur de Jésus s’élève à l’occasion du fait sanglant accompli par les volontaires du Cœur divin….qu’on fasse quelque chose pour les zouaves seuls.…Qu’on conserve le « bois des zouaves » mais aussi qu’on bâtisse une chapelle à l’angle du bois.…là où sont tombés MM de Sonis, de Troussures et d’autres.112
Aubineau was by no means alone in his ambition to elevate the zouaves and to mark the battlefield with monuments to the singularity of their exploits, even if he was to be disappointed in his hope for a specific chapel. By the end of the century the exploits of the zouaves were inscribed into the landscape. Monuments marked the mass grave at Villours, where the zouave de Ferron and 133 others who fell in the charge were buried; the bois des zouaves where so many zouaves fell; the spot where de Trosssures fell; and the spot where Sonis spent the night of 2 December.113

In the first volume of his mammoth series on France, Victor-Eugène Ardouin-Dumazet complained:


Pas un monument digne des héroïques morts. Rien pour les fantassins courageux qui se firent décimer en défendant la ferme de Villepion. Par contre, les tombes des zouaves pontificaux sont l’objet d’un soin pieux. L’église de Loigny, un cimetière, une colonne consacrée aux compagnons de Charette font oublier que d’autre héros tombent sur cette plaine de Patay.114
It was not until 1911 that a monument to the heroic 37th regiment was inaugurated. Yet matters were less clear-cut than might appear. Sonis’ charge was not the only episode commemorated. Amongst the first commemorative monuments a cross at Nonneville was raised in honour of the former zouave the duc de Luynes, who died rallying the 33rd mobiles, hit by a shell seconds after telling his men, ‘Ça ne fait pas mal!’ In 1873 a granite pyramid was erected to mark the heroics of the 71st regiment at Lumeau.115 In the Journal de Chartres Maurice Lasnier disputed Ardouin-Dumazet’s interpretation of the commemorative landscape, claiming that just as the bones of all the fallen were intermingled in the ossuary at Loigny, all were afforded an equal homage. That the names of all the dead were recorded on the marble tablets within the rebuilt church demonstrated that it was truly a monument to all. Even the monument in the bois des zouaves was less exclusive than might be thought, given that it also honoured the mobiles and other franc-tireur units involved in the charge.116 Nor did the zouaves ignore the 37th regiment. Both Charette and Sonis’ son Henri served on the committee for the monument to the 37th, while former Volontaires proved noted subscribers. Among the attendance at the inauguration were Verthamon’s daughter, Sonis’ sons Henri and Alain and a deputation of Volontaires led by Olivier Le Gonidec de Traissan (standing in for Charette), including Traversay.117

While he had not sufficiently emphasised the zouaves’ exploits to Aubineau’s taste, Pie had at least set out the commemorative agenda, closing his speech with an appeal for the church of Loigny to be rebuilt and consecrated to the Sacred Heart. Just as he had reshaped Legentil’s original vow, so in this instance did Pie develop and transform the intention of Nicolas Vagner, father of a fallen zouave, to raise funds to restore the damaged church. The rebuilt church was not merely dedicated to the Sacred Heart, but formed a lasting monument to Loigny. In addition to a commemorative chapel where the names of the fallen were recorded, an ossuary housed their bones. The ossuary in the crypt was constructed to allow a view of the remains of 1,200 soldiers, while a separate section was later to house the tomb of Sonis, with the simple inscription, ‘Miles Christi’. At his request Charette was to join him when he finally died in 1911. A visitor in 1890 wrote of the powerful impact of the sight of, ‘this mass of whitened bones.…the shattered mouths whose last cry was for France’.118 The sense of the presence of the bones of martyrs informed the sermons preached. In 1909 Alfred van den Brule had addressed a prayer to the fallen:


Soldats de Christ, Martyrs de la France, hosties sacrées et saignantes des deux plus grandes causes ….vous dont les cendres furent déposées là comme pour être unies au corps de l’Auguste Victime et dont le sang fut répandu là comme pour être mêlé à son précieux sang.…nous vous prions comme l’on prie les reliques des saintes.119
It also made the church a potential place of pilgrimage. In 1891 the Institution de Notre-Dame de Chartres made ‘a truly patriotic pilgrimage’ to Loigny, bearing with them a replica of the original banner. As did others, they prayed at Sonis’ tomb.120

Yet, this supreme monument to Loigny was not easy to achieve. In the first place, despite the initial success of the committee presided over by Charette, which enabled the first stone of the new church to be laid on the second anniversary of Loigny, funds ran short. To Charette’s chagrin, an appeal had to be made to the state to make up a shortfall of 20,000 francs.121 The full cost of over 200,000 francs was not paid off until 1878, four years after the completion of the building.122 Charette’s two volumes of memoirs were published in part to pay off the debts of 1874, while in 1890 Léon Lavedan’s reflections on the ossuary of Loigny were published to kick-start the subscription campaign to fund the church tower.123 In Charette’s eyes the church was not truly finished until 1893, when the tower was finally added. Secondly, the ossuary itself proved more problematic than the committee had expected. That the battle of Loigny had extended well beyond the commune of Loigny itself was self-evident. What was far less clear - certainly to both Charette’s committee and the large public whose offerings ensured the realisation of the new church - was the fact that even the land on which the celebrated charge of the Volontaires took place mostly lay outside the commune. The ‘bois des zouaves’ lay in the commune of Terminiers. This geographical quirk would lead to an acrimonious dispute.

The quarrel erupted in 1876, in the context of the French state’s efforts to arrange for the disinterment and transfer of the war dead to communal cemeteries. In Loigny questions arose as to the number of dead in question and the associated funds. The issue was complicated by the question of whether Charette’s committee should pay for the disinterment and transfer of the commune’s dead to the ossuary.124 The major dispute, however, involved the neighbouring communes of Terminiers and Lumeau. Charette’s committee took a proprietorial attitude towards the dead and requested 317 and 202 dead from Terminiers and Lumeau respectively - a number far in excess of those who fell in Sonis’ charge. All those buried within a three kilometre radius of Loigny were considered to belong by right in the new ossuary.

This proposal to honour these dead by including them in Loigny’s commemorative project was not well received. The municipal council of Lumeau argued that most of the dead claimed were in fact mobiles from the Charente-Inférieure and Haut-Vienne whose families wished them to share the cemetery of Lumeau with their former comrades. The commune had the right to deal with the dead buried on their soil as they wished.125 The municipal council of Terminiers was of the same mind, and unanimously rejected the request. They argued in the first case that 107 of their dead had fallen at Villepion on 1 December and in the second case that it was impossible to distinguish between the soldiers from the various regiments. While some families who had contributed to the Loigny monument might have requested that their dead should reside there, ‘a crowd of others’ with equal rights had made no such request. Nor could the role played by Terminiers be set aside - at least 300 injured soldiers had been cared for in the commune.126 Both Lumeau and Terminiers rejected revised requests made a month later. Terminiers council stated that the memory of the dead was no less dear to them than to the committee; that it was the unanimous wish of the commune’s population to honour the soldiers in their own cemetery; and that their monument in its simplicity was equally effective in evoking the memory of glorious deeds.127

In December the local deputy, republican Pierre-Honoré Dreux-Linget, became involved, expressing amazement at the presumption of Charette’s committee and the commune of Loigny. He cited the formally expressed wishes of families from the Haute-Vienne and Charente-Inférieure and argued that the battle spread over 10 communes could as readily be referred to as the battle of Lumeau as the battle of Loigny. Dreux-Linget concluded, ‘Ces communes.…tiennent grandement à honneur de conserver pieusement comme un souvenir sacré les restes de ceux qui sont tombés sur le champ d’honneur en défendant le sol de la Patrie sur leur territoire.’128 Yet ultimately, this was to no avail. After wavering on the issue the directeur de l’administration départementale et communale finally informed the prefect that he was reversing his initial decision out of respect for the families who wished to have their fallen children transferred to the crypt of Loigny.129 Although Charette had written to the minister of the interior in these terms, making an ‘appeal to your heart’, Provost argued that the decisive appeal was that of Jacques de Bouillé’s widow to the president.130 The comtesse pleaded that her husband should not be separated from his brothers in arms at Loigny.131 The president, conservative monarchist MacMahon, intervened to ensure that Charette’s committee prevailed. Ironically, the one mass grave that was not emptied did unquestionably contain soldiers who had fallen in Sonis’ charge: Mme de Ferron made it clear that Villours was not to be touched.132

The actions of Charette’s committee - and their ultimate success - reflect the wider success of their particular construction of Loigny. The zouave reading of Loigny achieved a hegemonic status. Yet, while the heroism of the zouaves was contrasted with the wider failing of the French armies, Loigny was about a shared heroism. The other forces involved were also distinguished from the failed soldiers of the defeat, mired in materialism, individualism, egoism and other corrosive doctrines of the revolution. These forces were in fact assimilated to the zouave narrative: the language applied to the zouaves applied to them. In his original speech Pie had effectively indicated as much, implying that all soldiers involved had shared a common religious inspiration and that all were entitled to the divine rewards of martyrs. While the committee did not go so far as to lay a claim to those who died in the engagements at Goury, Lumeau or Villepion, they successfully appropriated both the physical remains and the memory of all those who fell in the vicinity of Loigny. Though fewer than 800 men had been involved in the charge that saw the banner of the Sacred Heart unfurled, the remains of well over a thousand were to lie in the ossuary under the chapel of the Sacred Heart.133 All the dead in a three kilometre radius of Loigny were claimed to belong within this great monument of religiously-inspired patriotic sacrifice. There were perhaps twelve hundred martyrs of the Sacred Heart.



As Dreux-Linget’s words serve to demonstrate, quasi-religious language was freely applied to the fallen across the political spectrum. The dominant memory of Loigny, however, with its emphasis on martyrdom and expiation was not consensual, but celebrated by a particular constituency. In 1871 military authorities ruled that colonel Fouchier of the heroic 37th regiment should not attend the anniversary ceremonies. A serving soldier should avoid the compromising association with an event that would assemble the noble-dominated zouaves whose leader’s political convictions were notorious.134 In the event, however, it was noted that Charette acted with exemplary reserve, neither attending in uniform nor displaying the banner of the Sacred Heart. No such restraint, however, was on display in the Loigny monument. It was, Charette declared, ‘an homage to the French army’. His rhetorical question, ‘Quel autre édifice eût mieux rendu notre pensée chrétienne et nationale en même temps?’ was amply answered by the décor of the chapel of the Sacred Heart.135 In addition to a stained glass window featuring an angel holding the banner of the Sacred Heart, was one of St. Henri, depicted with features of the Pretender, the comte de Chambord. Paintings in the chapel celebrated the Volontaires de l’Ouest at Loigny as the successors to Joan at Patay; the consecration of the regiment to the Sacred Heart; and the death of Troussures.136 The convictions of the zouave were unmistakably imprinted on the Loigny monument.
VI
The commemoration of Loigny did reach beyond the ranks of the zouaves/Volontaires; Charette wrote to the minister of the interior that Loigny’s ossuary was intended for all, expressing the comradeship experienced at Loigny.137 The names of all the fallen were given equal prominence on the marble tablets that adorned the chapel of the Sacred Heart. Those who accompanied the Volontaires were not forgotten on either the Villours cross or the Sacred Heart monument in the bois des zouaves. In 1885 at the ‘noces d’argent’ celebrations of the zouave regiment Charette saluted the heroism displayed by the mobiles of the Côtes-du-Nord.138 At the 1895 anniversary Philippon, veteran of the franc-tireurs de Blidah was specifically honoured.139 Though the 37th regiment had to wait nearly forty years for a monument, the Volontaires proved faithful sponsors – and in the commemorative ceremonies the 37th were never overlooked. The commemoration of Loigny was about the construction of a dominant language and the assimilation of all forces involved into that language. It was no surprise that at the inauguration of the monument to the 37th regiment Challan de Belval, a doctor who had tended the wounded of Loigny, returned to the familiar theme of regenerative sacrifice: ‘blood shed, let us not forget, must be the seed of the life and regeneration of the nation.’140 There was also a clear determination that Loigny should rank alongside Bazeille or Floïng; in light of this frequently made comparison a small museum was established in the presbytery in 1907, boasting the boot of Sonis and captain Albert de Gastebois’ bolero.141

In 1884 abbé Beauchet had expressed the hope that Loigny might become the site of a national pilgrimage.142 Loigny’s prominence within the Sacred Heart devotion, coupled with the lessons of Christian heroism and sacrifice ensured that it would function as a location for pilgrimages. Vagner republished his account of his own personal ‘douloureux pèlerinage’ to Loigny in search of his son’s resting place to coincide with the pilgrimage of Œuvres ouvrières movement on the significant date of 14 July 1878. Regional pilgrimages were by no means uncommon; in 1901a 350-strong pilgrimage was organised by the Union provinciale de la jeunesse catholique de l’Orléannais.143 In 1890 Léon Lavedan appealed for the necessary money to complete , ‘un monument national où la France croyante et militaire ira toujours se retremper et se souvenir’. This was a revealing phrase. While Lavedan concluded that at Loigny it was possible ‘to rise above party quarrels and think only of France’, Loigny was a cult addressed to one section of France.144 It could only be a national site within a Catholic definition of the national informed by a counter-revolutionary perspective. It was in the spirit of zouave propagandist Jules Delmas’s understanding of France. Delmas argued that the republicans had spent the decade 1860-70 allied to the enemies of France and had shown themselves to be no true Frenchmen in 1870-71.145

Loigny could then become a site of pilgrimage, but not a site of national pilgrimage. The dominant representation of Loigny determined that it would function as a Catholic site of memory, as opposed to a truly national site of memory. D’Hulst envisioned the new church as, ‘a Christian pantheon of martyrs’, choosing not to acknowledge the divisive nature of this counter to the secular Panthéon of the Republic. The concept of patriotism as a terrain of national reconciliation, and readiness of the orators who delivered the commemorative addresses to point to the unity displayed by the diverse forces involved, could not bridge the divide. The Catholic language of heroism with its emphasis on martyrdom and expiation was a language far removed from republican understandings. In 1893 d’Hulst made a striking parallel to Joan of Arc. Rather than conflate Loigny with Patay, he explained that the true parallel was between Loigny and Rouen. Joan’s ultimate triumph lay not in her victories of Patay, Sargeau or Meury, but in her martyrdom:
le témoignage, la fidélité héroïque qu’aucun revers ne déconcerte, qui s’attache à une cause perdue et la sauve en croyante à elle. Jeanne, vaincue, enchaînée, calomniée, condamnée, brûlée a cru à la France et sa foi ne l’a pas trompée. Jeanne est morte et la France lui a dû la vie.146
This was an understanding of Loigny that republicans, however much they might venerate Joan, could not share. In an article on the fiftieth anniversary celebrations of the regiment, celebrated in the Sacré-Coeur basilica, Catholic politician and social reformer Albert de Mun argued that Loigny was unjustly ignored in school primers. It should be held up to children as a second Thermopylae, one of the ‘imperishable models of sacrifice offered to the Patrie’.147 Yet, Loigny, bound up as it was in Catholic understandings of the French nation and Catholic definitions of heroism was a poor fit with the narrative of the French nation delivered by the Republic.

To accept and understand the zouave version of Loigny was to accept not only the need for expiatory sacrifice, but also to see the zouaves as exemplars who pointed to the way to salvation. National regeneration hinged on the re-Christianisation of France; the Sacré-Coeur was the sign of regeneration and the zouaves were its privileged representatives. Loigny was a lesson addressed to the nation. In the aftermath of l’année terrible the purpose of celebrating Loigny was essentially two-fold. First, it was important that a certain reading of Loigny should predominate. The rebuilt church with its chapel and ossuary was the physical manifestation of the success of this project. Secondly, to celebrate this reading of Loigny was to engage in debates over the reshaping of France. The formal establishment of the Third Republic in 1875 and its stabilisation under an unequivocally republican leadership in the following years signalled the failure of this project. To celebrate Loigny in the 1880s and 1890s was to advance a Catholic and counter-revolutionary definition of the nation and patriotism, to insist that only religious values could produce patriots. It was to reject the secular republic and the revolutionary principles that were openly proclaimed as the foundation of the Republic.



As Karine Varley’s careful scholarship has revealed, it was hard if not impossible, to achieve consensual readings of episodes of l’année terrible. The memories of Bazeilles, Mars-le-Tour and Floïng were not uncomplicated. Nor were efforts to appropriate the memory of particular engagements lacking; Paul Déroulède’s Ligue de Patriotes were notably active in this capacity.148 There was no single memory of Loigny, even setting aside the accounts of those who fought at Goury, Lumeau or Villepion or the memories of the communes of Terminiers and Lumeau as interpreted by their municipal councils. The representatives of the army who spoke at the inauguration of the monument to the 37th regiment did not speak in the same register as those who celebrated Sonis and the Volontaires. Nonetheless, what is striking about Loigny is how successfully it came to be defined and understood as a Catholic and counter-revolutionary site of memory, an expression of ‘the two Frances’. From their inception in 1860 onwards zouaves had always been invoked not just to teach lessons about the Catholic virtues of expiatory suffering and resignation, but to assert the vitality and distinctiveness of a Catholic ‘true France’ defined in opposition to the revolutionary tradition. Loigny, the supreme expression of zouave engagement in the war to defend the soil of France, would above all function as a zouave site of memory asserting that true patriotic virtue sprang from France’s Catholic identity. Despite the language of patriotic unity, Loigny was about division.



The author may be contacted at Martin.Simpson@uwe.ac.uk. He wishes to thank Prof. Glyn Stone for his insightful comments on a first draft of this paper.

1 Adolphe Perraud, ‘Premier panégyrique de Jeanne d’Arc’, 8 May 1872, in Discours Militaires (Paris: P. Tequi, 1896), p. 198.

2 On the myth of l’an deux see Daniel Moran and Arthur Waldron (eds.), The People in Arms (Cambridge: CUP, 2003); Robert Gildea, The Past in French History (New Haven: Yale, 1994), pp. 134-53.

3 Adolphe Perraud, Les Faux Dieux. Discours prononcé dans l’église de Saint Rémy de Dieppe, le 6 août 1871,’ in La France et les Faux Dieux (Paris: H. Gautier, 1891), 4-13; ‘Premier panégyrique’, p. 199.

4 Karine Varley, Under the Shadow of Defeat. The War of 1870-1871 in French Memory (Houndmills: Palgrave, 2008), pp. 85-93, 152-74.

5 Michael Howard, The Franco-Prussian War, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge, 2001), p. 244.

6 Bertrand Taithe, Citizenship and Wars. France in Turmoil, 1870-1871 (London: Routledge, 2001), pp. 10, 24-6; table in appendix II, pp. 182-4.

7 Howard, Franco-Prussian War, p. 252.

8 Ibid., p. 293.

9 See e.g. A.G., La Blocus de Paris et la première armée de la Loire, 3 vols. (Paris: L. Baudoin, 1889-94) for an argument that the failures of Gambetta’s Delegation of Tours led to a defeat that was in no way determined by the disasters of September 1870.

10 Howard, Franco-Prussian War, p. 242.

11 Varley, Under the Shadow, pp. 32-4.

12 On the problems of confronting the reality of defeat: Gildea, Past in French History, pp. 118-22. Varley argues forcefully that the defeat was widely invoked across the political spectrum.

13 On this debate see Henri de Cathelineau, Le vrai patriotisme développé par l’enseignement religieux (Lille: Imprimerie de Lefebvre-Ducrocq, 1879).

14 For an influential early account of Loigny, deeply hostile to the ‘dictatorship of Tours’: Auguste Boucher, Bataille de Loigny avec les combats de Villepion et Poupry (Orléans: H. Herluison, 1872).

15 Denis Érard, Souvenirs d’un mobile de la Sarthe (33e régiment), armée de la Loire, 16e corps: Coulmiers, Villepion, Loigny, Villorceau, Changé, Le Mans, Saint-Jean-sur-Erve, 2nd ed. (Le Mans: Monnoyer, 1909).

16 Howard, Franco-Prussian War, pp. 311-12.

17 The apparent failure of Deflandre to come to Sonis’ aid was the subject of debate – inexplicable for abbé Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille de 1870 à 1912 (Lille: V. Ducoulombier, 1912), p. 77. A vigorous defence of Deflandre – and a parallel criticism of Sonis - was mounted by Amédée Delorme, Deflandre et Sonis (Paris: Edmond Dubois, 1893).

18 Patrick Nouaille-Degorce revises the figure downwards to just over 700. ‘Les Volontaires de l’Ouest: Histoire et souvenir de la guerre de 1870-71 à nos jours’, unpub. thesis, 2 vols. (Université de Nantes, 2005), I, 290.

19 Laurent Bart-Loi, Au service du pape et de la France. Catherin 1861-1870 (Paris and Lille: Desclée de Brouwer et Cie., 1901) in a detailed appendix provided figures of 66 dead, 131 wounded and 21 unaccounted for, pp. 292-9. Sauveur Jacquemont, La Campagne des Zouaves Pontificaux en France, sous les ordres du général baron de Charette, 1870-1871 (Paris: Henri Plon, 1871) gave a figure of 207 zouaves and 11 officers. He put other losses at 60 franc-tireurs and 150 mobiles, p. 111.

20 Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille, 90-3; Monument du 37e régiment de marche – Loigny le 2 décembre 1870 (Paris: R. Chapelot et Cie., 1911).

21 Ladislas-Xavier Gorecki, La Bataille de Loigny-Poupry au point de vue du service du santé (Paris: R. Chapelot et Cie, 1901), p. 8. Gorecki was in part informed by his experiences as doctor to the 92nd infantry regiment of the Second Army of the Loire.

22 Cited in abbé Theuré, Souvenir du 2 décembre: Loigny, son église, ses monuments (Chartres: l’abbé C. Métais, 1896), p. 4.

23 For nineteenth-century criticism: Amédée Delorme, Journal d’un sous-officier, 1870 (Paris: Hachette, 1891); idem., Deflandre et Sonis; H. Kunz, Die Schlacht von Loigny-Poupry (Berlin: Mittler, 1893) trans. Michèle Bailly, as reproduced in Nouaille-Degorce, ‘Les Volontaires’, II, pp. 225-38. Nouaille-Degorce suggests that Kunz took his cue from Delorme. For twentieth-century criticism: Howard, Franco-Prussian War, p. 311; Stéphane Andoin-Rouzeau, 1870: La France dans la guerre (Paris: Armand Colin, 1989), p. 237.

24 Gorecki, La Bataille, p. 16.

25 Amédée Delorme, Journal d’un sous officier, 1870, 2nd ed. (Paris: Hachette 1901), p. 126.

26 Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille, p. 84; Delorme, Deflandre et Sonis, pp. 136-8.

27 Gorecki, La Bataille, pp. 19-22.

28 Sonis, cited in Bart-Loi, Au service, p. 277.

29 Sonis, cited in Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille, p. 84. Curiously this point is missed by Jonas who writes, ‘Any sign of a conventional understanding of war disappeared from Sonis’ rhetoric.’ Raymond Jonas, ‘Anxiety, Identity and the Displacement of Violence during the Année Terrible: The Sacred Heart and the diocese of Nantes, 1870-871’, French Historical Studies, 21 (1998), pp. 55-75, at 70.

30 Arthur Roë (pseud. of Patrice Mahon), ‘L’Assaut de Loigny,’ Revue des Deux Mondes, 126 (Nov./Dec. 1894), pp. 605-48 at 637.

31 Sonis, cited in Delorme, Deflandre et Sonis, p. 17.

32 In addition to his desire to indict the irresponsible actions of Sonis – and what he saw as Sonis’ effort to shift the blame onto the dead Deflandre – Delorme emphasised the need to set the record straight regarding the 48th. Deflandre et Sonis, appendix, pp. 131-45.

33 Mgr. Baunard, Le général de Sonis d’après ses papiers et sa correspondance (Paris: Poussielgue, 1890).

34 Henri de Sonis, Le XVIIe Corps à Loigny d’après des documents inédits et les récits des combattants (Paris: Berger-Levrault, 1909).

35 Jacquemont, La Campagne, p. 103.

36 Henry Morel, La Bataille de Loigny, 2 Décembre 1870 (Lille: Bergès, s.d), p. 42.

37 Boucher, Bataille de Loigny. Sonis rejected this reading of his actions when testifying before the National Assembly commission of enquiry into the actions of the Government of National Defence on 10 August 1871: ‘J’étais là parce qu’il fallait aller là, il fallait marcher quand même et mourir s’il le fallait, pour éviter un plus grand désastre.’ Cited in Baunard, Le général, 40th ed. (Paris: Poussielgue, 1893), p. 600 – an appendix added specifically to refute the accusations made by Delorme in Journal d’un sous-officier.

38 Gorecki argued that demoralisation of the 51st was understandable - inexperienced men who had already marched through the night and endured over an hour and a half of artillery bombardment could scarcely be compared to the well-trained zouaves - concluding, ‘Ajoutons encore que cette régiment trop calomnié perdit dans la journée du 2 décembre 30 officiers tués, 8 blessés, 4 disparus, 51 hommes tués, 201 blessés et 380 disparus.’ La Bataille, p. 18.

39 Sonis, cited in Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille, p. 77.

40 Jean Guenel, La dernière guerre du pape. Les zouaves pontificaux au secours du Saint-Siège, 1860-1870 (Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 1998).

41 On this ‘dolourist’ tradition: Ruth Harris, Lourdes: Body and Spirit in the Secular Age (Harmondsworth: Allen Lane, 1999); Richard D. E. Burton, Holy Tears, Holy Blood: Women, Catholicism and the Culture of Suffering in France, 1840-1870 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 2004).

42 Martin Simpson, ‘Serving France in Rome: The Zouaves Pontificaux and the French Nation’, French History, 27 (2013), pp. 69-90.

43 See e.g. Anatole de Ségur, Les Martyrs de Castelfidardo (Paris: Ambroise Bray, 1861).

44 Guenel, Dernière guerre; Simpson, ‘Serving France’. In the same way an alternative vision of France was celebrated in the pilgrimages to Lourdes or Rome: Harris, Lourdes; Brian Brennan, ‘Visiting ‘Peter in Chains’: French Pilgrimage to Rome, 1873-93’, Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 51 (2000), pp. 741-65.

45 Nouaille-Degorce, Les Volontaires. Nouaille-Degorce also demonstrates that recruitment patterns differed markedly between the zouaves and Volontaires: ibid., I, pp. 50-102.

46 Athanase de Charette, Souvenir du régiment des zouaves pontificaux: Rome, 1860-70, France 1870-1871. Notes et récits, réunis par le baron de Charette, 2 vols., (Tours: Mame, 1875-77). Theuré, Souvenir.

47 Charette cited in Theodore Wibaux letter, 9 July 1871, in C. du Coëtlosquet SJ (trans. R. F. Clarke), Theodore Wibaux, Pontifical Zouave and Jesuit (London: Catholic Truth Society, 1887), pp. 288-9.

48 Joseph Perraud, letter n.d., in Joseph Perraud, Lettres de guerre d’un zouave pontifical, octobre-novembre 1870, ed. Pascal Beyls (Montbonnot: P. Beyls, 2000), p. 24. Joseph did not realise his ambition, dying at Loigny.

49 Charette, Souvenir.

50 Athanase de Charette, Noces d’argent du régiment des zouaves pontificaux, 1860-1885. Basse-Motte, 28 juillet 1885 – Anvers 30 août 1885 (Rennes: Oberthur, 1886).

51 Appendix to Jacquemont, La Campagne, pp. 195-6.

52 Mgr Deschamps at Frascati, 11 October 1865, cited in Le Monde, 21 October 1865.

53 Sonis, cited in Delorme, Deflandre et Sonis, p. 22.

54 Freppel, Discours prononcé à l’inauguration du monument érigé en l’honneur du général de La Moricière dans la cathédrale de Nantes le 29 octobre 1879 (Angers: Germain et Grassin, 1879), p. 8.

55 Nicolas Vagner, Une visite au champ de bataille de Loigny, 22 avril 1871, 4th ed., (Nancy: Imprimerie Vagner, 1878), pp. 8-9.

56 Raymond Jonas ‘Monument as Ex-Voto, Monument as Historiography: the Basilica of Sacré- Cœur’, French Historical Studies, 18 (1993), pp. 482-502.

57 Henri Derély, Le général de Sonis, les Volontaires de l’Ouest et le drapeau du Sacré-Cœur (Paris and Lille: Desclée de Brouwer, 1892), p. 52.

58 Cited in L’Avant-Garde, 1 July 1910. Albiousse added that the zouaves’ presence at Rome had allowed the First Vatican Council of 1870 to take place, where the doctrine of infallibility gave the beleaguered Pope new strength.

59 Cited in Jacquemont, La Campagne, p. 90.

60 Doussot’s recollection, cited in Bart-Loi, Au service, p. 266. On the banner see Bulletin de l’œuvre du vœu national au Sacré Cœur de Jésus, cited in Charette, Souvenir, pp. 93-6. Charette took the chance in Tours to touch it to the relics of Saint Martin, the warrior patron saint of France, invoked on the reverse of the banner. Arguably Cathelineau, who headed a Vendéen volunteer force, had an equally valid claim – perhaps better, given that he had appealed for volunteers in the name of the Holy Virgin. See Henri de Cathelineau, Le Corps Cathelineau pendant la guerre de 1870-1871 (Paris: Amyet, 1871).

61 Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille, pp. 85-9. Contemporary accounts differ - only Verthamon and two de Bouillés appear in all versions. See e.g. Jacquemont, La campagne, pp. 106-7; Bart-Loi, Au service, p. 280. Cazenove de Pradines, mentioned by both Jacquemont and Bart-Loi, later wrote that his inclusion was erroneous, though he had been wounded defending the flag. See Nouaille-Degorce, ‘Les Volontaires’, I, pp. 293-4.

62 A claim made in the bi-monthly zouave publication, L’Avant-Garde, 15 Dec. 1895.

63 Raymond Jonas, France and the Cult of the Sacred Heart. An epic tale for Modern Times. (Berkely and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2000).

64 Léon Aubineau in L’Univers, 23 July 1885, cited in Charette, Noces, p. 9.

65 Abbé Bougaud, Les Expiations de la France. Paroles prononcées à Orléans au service solennel pour les victimes de la guerre et au moment du départ des pèlerins pour Paray-le-Monial (Paris: Poussielgue, 1873), pp. 28, 23-9.

66 Jonas, France and the Cult, pp. 224-43.

67 See Gabriel de Belastel, L’Œuvre du Vœu National (Versailles: Cerf et fils, 1878); idem., Le Drapeau de Dieu (Toulouse: Douladoure-Privat, 1881). Both pamphlets originated as speeches delivered at the annual Assemblée Générale des Catholiques.

68 On the conflation of Loigny and Patay see abbé Sainsot, Loigny ou Patay, 2 décembre 1870 (Orléans: Georges Michau et Cie., 1889); Provost, Loigny-la-Bataille, pp. 496-500.

69 Paray-le-Monial: le pèlerinage du Sacré-Cœur en 1873. Histoire et Documents (Moulins: Desrosiers, 1873), pp. 149-64, 289-93.

70 R.P. Félix, La France devant le Sacré-Cœur. Discours prononcé à Paral-le-Monial le 20 juin 1873, fête du Sacré-Cœur. (Paris: A. Jouby et Roger, 1873), pp. 43-50.

71 Baunard, Le général, pp. 450-2.

72 Jacquemont, La campagne, pp. 122-3.

73 Félix, La France devant le Sacré-Cœur, pp. 47-8.

74 Jules Delmas, La neuvième croisade, 2nd ed. (Paris: Blériot frères, 1881), p. vii. See also idem., Les zouaves pontificaux en France (Limoges: Eugène Ardent et Cie., 1877); idem., Les martyrs de la France, 1870-871 (Limoges: Eugène Ardent et Cie., 1878).

75 Carol Harrison, ‘Zouave Stories: Gender, Catholic Spirituality and French Responses to the Roman Question’, Journal of Modern History, 79 (2007), pp. 274-305; Simpson, ‘Serving’.

76 Marquis de Saint-Aulaire, Henri de Verthamon, zouave pontifical, volontaire de l’Ouest, blessé mortellement au combat de Loigny, le 2 décembre 1870 (Perigueux: J.Bonnet, 1873), p. 118.

77 Abbé Pergeline, Victor Charruau. Allocution prononcé le 27 mars 1872, adresse aux anciens élèves de l’Externat des Enfants Nantais (Nantes: V. Forest et É. Grimaud, 1872), p. 14. Pergeline referred not to Loigny but Patay.

78 Musée de Loigny-la-Bataille, Association des Amis de Sonis-Loigny website,

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