Abstract
Abstract A Roman Catholic by family tradition, Francis ‘lapsed’ during and after the First World War. Yet we have noted how, beneath the ostensible frivolities of his youth, his heart remained, like that of his master Satie, of a singular purity: so we need not be surprised that the death of an intimate friend and musical colleague, in a car crash in 1936, should have shattered him. That the manner of Pierre-Octave Ferroud’s death was horrendous-he suffered what Francis called a ‘decollation atroce’-must have given a raw edge to the experience of loss. Poulenc decided to make a penitential pilgrimage to the shrine of the Vierge Noire at Rocamadour, where he had a mystical experience,
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