When I (Danita here) first dove into the tangled, fascinating web of Zanrè family history, I was on a mission: to confirm—or debunk—a persistent family legend.

According to lore passed down among the UK Zanrè (especially those settled in Scotland), two young brothers—soldiers in Napoleon Bonaparte’s army—broke ranks in Northern Italy sometime around 1795–1800. Exhausted, starving, and far from home, they wandered into the Apennines near the Taro Valley, settled in Valdena, found wives, and became the roots of the Italian Zanrè. Très romantic, no?

When Domenico Zanrè prepared to marry Maria Giulianotti in 1886, her family warned: “Don’t marry that Frenchman.” Combine this with the fact that no one in the living ranks of the UK  Zanrè seemed to be clear on the origins of the name, and the logical assumption by many descendants was that it must be of French origin. It certainly didn’t sound Italian to them.

Even Giuseppe Zanrè’s migration story added a little French seasoning. He was fabled to have journeyed to the UK at the age of eight around 1894—without his parents. Why? Because, allegedly, “he could speak French”—a useful skill while walking across Europe with a traveling party. One version of the story said he had an aunt in Marseille and had visited her often.

The First Crack in the Legend

In 2014, while researching the family with the kind assistance of the priest at San Rocco, we were shown a baptism record for Domenico Antonio Zanrè, born in San Vincenzo in April 1798.

Hmm.

Napoleon became the leader of the Army of Italy in October 1796—just 18 months earlier. That technically leaves time for some battle-fatigued French conscripts to desert and start a family… but it felt increasingly far-fetched. Still, with no earlier records available, the family legend remained on life support.

The Day Napoleon Died (At Least In This Story)

In 2016, after Joe and I moved to Borgo Val di Taro, we made the pilgrimage up to San Vincenzo, camera in hand, to examine church records. The 1798 baptism was confirmed, and the priest generously allowed us to photograph other pages.

Then it happened. While browsing records from 1783, we found Astatore Zanrè—Domenico Antonio’s father—already living in San Vincenzo and listed as godfather to the daughter of a woman named Maria Zanrè.

So much for the French interlopers theory. If Astatore was present in 1783, the idea that the Zanrè family suddenly arrived with Napoleon’s troops became impossible.

But the story didn’t die—it just evolved.

We now know that Astatore wasn’t just local—he came from a long line of Zanrè men born in these hills. During the COVID lockdowns, I spent weeks digging through parish records and can now confirm Zanrè ancestors back to around 1560. The earliest mention I’ve found of the name is from 1569 (see: Who Came Before Sentino?).

My husband Joe’s 10th great-grandfather, Antonio Zanrè, born about 1560 (making Joe and our son the 11th and 12th generations, respectively), is not yet definitively linked to the Giovanni Andrea Zanrè who married in 1569. I’m hoping that as I work my way through more of these very early records, I’ll find new links.  The church records only start in 1566 though, and before that, I have no idea where to look!

So what explains the persistent “French” label?

Here’s where the theory gets juicy: During Napoleon’s reign, locals who fought in his army were often rewarded with land grants. And guess what? Valdena was one of those areas. It’s very likely that two Zanrè brothers from San Vincenzo received land and relocated just across the ravine, becoming the foundation of the Valdena branch. That move—combined with their military ties to France—might have been enough for whispers of “Frenchmen” to follow them for generations.

And if they were more pro-French than their neighbors during a politically volatile era? Well, nothing sticks in local memory quite like being “on the wrong side of history”… even if your family has been farming those hills since before Shakespeare picked up a quill.

In Conclusion

We’ve traded a dashing tale of desertion and romance for something far more satisfying—documented roots going back to the 1500s, a theory grounded in historical context, and a much deeper understanding of how legends evolve from misunderstandings, migration, and maybe just a dash of rebellion.

At this point, the next step is to try to find records—or even just a list—of the men who were granted land in Valdena as compensation for their service to Napoleon. So, it looks like I have another “new” theory to confirm or disprove!

Ulitmately though, the Zanrè weren’t outsiders who wandered in. They were here all along.

But maybe… just maybe… they cheered a little too loudly for Napoleon.

Bonaparte with the Army of Italy, 1796