I/ 
 
 I '. 
 

THE REVOCATION 
 
 EDICT OF NANTES, 
 
 AND ITS CONSSgttE'NQES 
 
 TO T.HE. . '. > , ' 
 
 Protestant <twrc!)e8 of France anto Xtalg; 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF SOME OF THE 
 
 SUFFERERS IN THE PERSECUTION 
 
 ATTENDING THAT EVENT. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 
 
 WILLIAM S. MARTIEN, PUBLISHING AGENT. 
 1839. 
 

 ?* 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Introduction 5 
 
 M. Chandion, the repentant Convert 13 
 
 M. de Chevenix, the persecuted Invalid 17 
 
 M. D'Algue, and the Assemblies of the Faithful in 
 
 the Mountains of Cevennes 23 
 
 M. Fulcrand Rei, the devoted Pastor 35 
 
 Jean Migault, the Reader of Moulle 50 
 
 M. Le Fevre, the Prisoner of the Galleys 117 
 
 M. de Marolles, the Exile arrested in his Flight ... 139 
 
 The Martyrs of Toulouse 168 
 
 The Church in the Wilderness ; or, the Waldenses 
 
 of the Piemont Valleys 180 
 
 Appendix 202 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 FROM an early period of the Reformation, the 
 Protestants of France, although embracing many 
 of the nobility, were assailed by the most relent- 
 less persecutions. The church of Rome has ever 
 been the enemy of light, and has never hesitated, 
 where it possessed the power, to employ force and 
 violence to prevent its diffusion. The Reformed 
 Church in France was particularly exposed to the 
 malignant persecutions of a corrupt government, 
 instigated by the sanguinary suggestions of the 
 Roman Pontiffs and troops of Jesuits. An exemp- 
 tion from these troubles, was secured by the cele- 
 brated Edict drawn up at Nantes, by which Henry 
 IV. guaranteed to his Protestant subjects, the pos- 
 session of religious liberty and the secure enjoy- 
 ment of civil rights and privileges. This delivered 
 them from all further molestation during the period 
 of that monarch's reign. 
 
 At a subsequent period, however, the persecu- 
 ting spirit of the Church of Rome, which had been 
 temporarily held in check, again burst forth with 
 additional violence. Stratagem having failed to 
 induce the Protestants to put themselves under the 
 1* 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Papal yoke, every measure, which malice and 
 cruelty could suggest, was resorted to for their ex- 
 tirpation. Lewis the XIV., prevailed on by the 
 importunities of the Bishops and Jesuits, in disre- 
 gard of all laws human and divine, revoked the 
 Edict of Nantes, by which act the Protestants 
 were deprived of the liberty of worshipping God, 
 agreeably to the dictates of their consciences, and 
 were exposed without shelter to the sanguinary 
 assaults of their enemies. The Roman pontiff 
 applauded the measure which was to bring ruin 
 upon so many thousands. An attempt being made 
 to force the consciences of the Protestants, they 
 emigrated in vast numbers to other parts of Europe, 
 in which they might enjoy the sacred privileges 
 which had been denied them in their own coun- 
 try. This proved highly detrimental to the real 
 prosperity of France, as it deprived it of many of 
 its most useful citizens. Where flight was impos- 
 sible the unhappy Protestants were subjected to 
 the most cruel and murderous persecutions. 
 
 Living, as we do, in peace and security, so far 
 removed from times when the fury of religious 
 persecution desolated the land, we can scarcely 
 imagine the distress and alarm of the Protestants, 
 when this unrighteous decree was passed. Not 
 only was the exercise of their religion, in public 
 and in private, forbidden, but they were interdict- 
 ed from following any trade or profession, by 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 which they might procure the means of living for 
 themselves and their families, and from holding 
 any office whatever, which might give them 
 weight and influence in society. It was soon 
 found that flight to a foreign land was the only 
 earthly refuge for the sufferers. But here, again, 
 difficulties beset them wherever they turned. By 
 a most perverse cruelty, while they were deprived 
 of the means of living in their own country, they 
 were not permitted to seek an alleviation of their 
 misery, by retiring to a foreign land. The greatest 
 advantage the most fortunate could hope to obtain, 
 was the mournful privilege of becoming fugitives 
 and exiles. 
 
 Though multitudes were unable to succeed in 
 removing themselves and their families from their 
 native country, many overcame every obstacle. 
 Various parts of the continent were open to them, 
 and England and America offered them a shelter 
 from the fury of the oppressor. Half a million of 
 the most virtuous and industrious subjects of the 
 king of France withdrew to other countries, which 
 they enriched by the arts and manufactures they 
 carried with them. 
 
 Of the miseries occasioned by the proceedings 
 against the members of the reformed church, we 
 can form very little idea from a cursory view of 
 the subject. All the ministers were commanded 
 to leave the kingdom within fifteen days after the 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 publication of the decree, unless they would abjure 
 their religion, and conform to the Roman Catholic 
 mode of worship. 
 
 With regard to the children of the reformed, all 
 private schools for their instruction were to be 
 suppressed; and it was commanded, that those 
 who should hereafter be born, should be baptized 
 by the cures of the parishes in which their parents 
 resided, and should afterward be educated in the 
 Roman Catholic faith. 
 
 To such Protestants as were out of the king- 
 dom at the time the decree was passed, the king 
 allowed a delay of four months, to give them time 
 to return and resume possession of their property. 
 If they did not return within that time, the whole 
 was to be confiscated. At the same time, it was 
 forbidden to any of the reformed to leave the coun- 
 try, except the ministers, with their wives, and 
 such of their children as were under seven years 
 of age. 
 
 The situation of these ministers was most dis- 
 tressing. Unless they abjured their faith, they 
 had to choose between exile or the galleys. If 
 they resolved to leave the country, they must 
 separate themselves from all who were dearest to 
 them, except their wives, and children of the spe- 
 cified age. All above this age, together with 
 friends, relatives, and servants, were forbidden to 
 be included in their passports. Even when they 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 arrived at the coast with the scanty train permit- 
 ted, they were often obliged to submit to further 
 delays, while their oppressors demanded proof 
 that the persons they brought with them were 
 really their wives and their children, and that the 
 children were really under the age of seven. Far 
 from all who knew them, it was often impossible 
 to bring the proof required ; and, in default of it, 
 many were arrested and committed to prison. 
 Some found it impossible, with their utmost efforts, 
 to arrange their affairs, and reach the coast in fif- 
 teen days, and these were seized and imprisoned, 
 on the ground of having exceeded the time allow- 
 ed for their departure. 
 
 They were often required to establish their right 
 to every species of property they carried with 
 them, whether books, money, or other things, and 
 to prove that they did not belong in any way to 
 the churches they had served, as every thing of 
 this sort reverted to the crown. Thus, not only 
 was the time consumed by vexatious delays, but 
 the little they had been able to save from the 
 wreck of their property, was often wrested from 
 them under false pretences ; and they were left to 
 proceed, with their wives and their little ones, to 
 a foreign land, with all the miseries of penury 
 added to their other distresses. 
 
 There were multitudes who found it impossible 
 to secure any thing. In the distracted state of the 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 country, it was, in many instances, perfectly use- 
 less to attempt to collect debts, or to convert houses 
 or land into money in the few days allowed them 
 to prepare for flight ; and this was the only time 
 in which they could do it, as, after that period, 
 whatever property remained, was seized by the 
 commissioners and confiscated without mercy. 
 
 This cruel injustice, with regard to property, 
 had been experienced by others besides the minis- 
 ters, even before the Edict of Revocation was pub- 
 lished. Previous to that final step, the severe 
 measures adopted by the government had excited 
 so much alarm, that many were induced to leave 
 the country. Brevets were obtained from the 
 king, granting them permission to retire to foreign 
 countries with their families, and to dispose of 
 their property in any way they might think best. 
 On the faith of these brevets they acted, leaving 
 estates, &c. in the hands of others, and expecting 
 to have rents and the proceeds of whatever they 
 ordered to be sold, sent out to them. But a great 
 proportion of these shared the same fate as the 
 exiled pastors, and all they had left in France was 
 lost. Other decrees, still more oppressive than 
 the Edict of Revocation, followed, and continued 
 in force for more than half a century. 
 
 That which above all affected the sincere and 
 pious among the ministers, and at first decided 
 them to remain in France at every risk, was the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 consideration, that if they went into exile, they 
 would be as shepherds abandoning their flocks to 
 the wolf, at the very moment when their assistance 
 was most peculiarly necessary to them. They 
 said within themselves, "Jesus Christ, the good 
 Shepherd of his people, will one day expect at our 
 hand, an account of the flocks confided to our care. 
 How shall we appear before him, to render up our 
 accounts with joy, if we desert them in the hour of 
 neejj?" They determined to remain, and by every 
 possible means seek to console and strengthen 
 their persecuted people ; pouring the wine and oil 
 of heavenly comfort into the wounded hearts of the 
 sufferers, strengthening the weak, confirming the 
 feeble, and striving to build up all in the most holy 
 faith, which the adversaries were attempting by 
 every means to undermine. The fierce storm of 
 persecution was abroad in the land, and the Ro- 
 mish church was set forth as the only covert from 
 the tempest. Prosperity was to be the lot of those 
 who entered her portals ; adversity, severe and 
 pitiless, was decreed to those who refused her of- 
 fers. Too many felt themselves unable to remain 
 firm in this day of trial, not having sought, with 
 sufficient ardour, the aid of him who " giveth to 
 all men liberally, and upbraideth not;" and who 
 suffereth no temptation to befall his children, " but 
 will also, with the temptation, make a way for 
 them to escape." Yet there was a blessed num- 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 her, strong in faith, who walked manfully on in the 
 path allotted to them. Multitudes bore testimony 
 to the truth of their religion, resisting unto death 
 every attempt to turn them aside from the true faith. 
 Many were the martyred saints who expired du- 
 ring this period on the scaffold and at the stake, 
 and many more in hidden dungeons, where the 
 wrath of man worketh in secret, that which no 
 earthly eye may behold, but which He who seeth 
 from his throne in heaven, and from whom no 
 secrets are hid, will one day reveal to an assem- 
 bled world. In that day, how shall the persecu- 
 tors tremble! and oh! how many unrecorded vic- 
 tims of their fury shall then be seen, " clothed in 
 white robes, and having palms in their hands," 
 ascribing honour and praise unto Him who hath 
 brought them through great tribulations to their 
 glorious place of rest! Even among those who had 
 fallen into the snares of their oppressors, and had 
 been prevailed on to sign a paper, by which they 
 abjured their religion, great numbers afterwards 
 sincerely and bitterly repented their conduct, and 
 sought the earliest opportunity to confess their fault 
 to their brethren. Many had the courage to de- 
 clare openly to their enemies that they had signed 
 against their consciences, that they repented it as 
 a crime, and that they were resolved to live and 
 die in their first faith. 
 
13 
 
 M. CHANDION. 
 
 THE REPENTANT CONVERT. 
 
 AMONG the penitents was M. Chandion, or 
 Changuinon, an elder of the church of Vassi 
 de Champagne for thirty years. This vene- 
 rable old man, repenting of his sinful compli- 
 ance, resolved to join the party of the exiles; 
 and with that intention, set out with his son, 
 with M. Chemet, his brother-in-law, and se- 
 veral others, to quit the kingdom. After pro- 
 ceeding some time in safety, they were at 
 length overtaken and arrested. The younger 
 Chandion eluded the vigilance of his guards, 
 and escaped. The father was conducted to 
 the prison of Sedan, and underwent the usual 
 examination. When interrogated as to the 
 design of the journey in which he had been 
 overtaken, he replied courageously, that it 
 was to go into a Protestant country, if God 
 had permitted it, to weep there, in the midst 
 
14 M. CHANDION, 
 
 of his brethren, over the great fault of which 
 he had been pulley f in signing the abjuration 
 of his faith; adding, that he would declare 
 before Cod and men, that he had given his 
 signature against his conscience, that he now 
 retracted it, and was ready to suffer all which 
 the law could inflict on him. 
 
 The second day of his imprisonment, he 
 was conducted to another place of confine- 
 ment, where he found M. Chemet with the 
 rest of the unfortunate party. They were all 
 tried a few days after, and the men were con- 
 demned to the gallies for life; the women and 
 children to be shut up in convents. From 
 Sedan they were transferred to Metz, where 
 they were to join the chain of condemned crim- 
 inals, and pass on with them to their destin- 
 ed place of punishment. Thus, in addition to 
 the severe judgment passed upon them, they 
 had to endure the society of the most deprav- 
 ed and abandoned persons, who were receiv- 
 ing, as the due reward of iniquity, the same 
 punishment as these pious and inoffensive men. 
 
 When the chain of the condemned was 
 drawn out for examination, and these two ex- 
 cellent old men were brought forward to be 
 
THE REPENTANT CONVERT. 15 
 
 attached to it, the Procurer General, who was 
 present, touched with compassion at their 
 situation, called for pen and paper, that he 
 might write immediately to Louvois, the pow- 
 erful minister of Louis XIV., protesting that 
 they were not in a state to serve in the gal- 
 lies. It is not known what reply came from 
 the court, but its import may be guessed, since 
 they had the cruelty to compel M. Chandion 
 and M. Chemet to set out for Marseilles, at- 
 tached to the chain, with fifty others, of whom 
 sixteen were, like themselves, condemned for 
 their religion. God strengthened their aged 
 limbs to bear their chains to Marseilles; but 
 scarcely were they arrived, when, exhausted 
 with fatigue, they were seized with mortal 
 sickness, and in a few days breathed their last. 
 Thus were these venerable men enabled to 
 bear testimony to the truth as it is in Jesus, 
 and then permitted to escape from the stormy 
 wind and the tempest. While " the blast of 
 the terrible ones" still raged around their 
 brethren, they entered at once into the peace- 
 ful haven, " wherein goeth no galley with 
 oars, neither doth gallant ships pass thereby." 
 There " the wicked cease from troubling, and 
 
16 M. CHANDION. 
 
 the weary are at rest," waiting for the full 
 fruition of the blessedness of the redeemed, in 
 that day when a voice shall be heard, " as the 
 voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of 
 many waters, and as the voice of mighty 
 thundering, saying, Alleluia! for the Lord 
 God omnipotent reigneth. Let us be glad 
 and rejoice, and give power to him; for the 
 marriage of the Lamb is come." Rev. xix. 
 6,7. 
 
17 
 
 M. DE CHEVENIX, 
 
 THE PERSECUTED INVALID. 
 
 THE most striking proofs of penitence were 
 often exhibited in the sick chambers of the 
 new Catholics, as they were called. From 
 their dying beds, they often made the most 
 affecting protestations to the Catholic priests, 
 who came to offer them the sacraments of the 
 church, and (if possible) to compel them to 
 receive them. 
 
 In these awful moments, on the point of 
 appearing before the Judge of quick and dead, 
 those who until then had concealed their opi- 
 nions, often felt themselves obliged to raise 
 the mask, and confess their real sentiments, 
 giving glory to God, and testifying their faith 
 in Jesus, as the only Saviour. 
 
 Alarmed at these instances of defection in 
 their forced converts, their persecutors now 
 obtained a law, decreeing, that those who 
 2* 
 
18 M. DE CHEVENIX, 
 
 relapsed into the Protestant faith, should be 
 condemned to the amende honorable, and to 
 banishment with confiscation of property. For 
 the sick who should refuse the sacraments, and 
 declare they desired to die in the Protestant 
 religion, in case they recovered from their 
 sickness, they were to be subjected to the 
 same law, with this addition, that banishment 
 should be exchanged for labour in the gallies, 
 for the men, and confinement in cloisters, for 
 the women. If they died in these dispositions, 
 the same decree ordained, that their bodies 
 should be drawn on a hurdle, and then thrown 
 on the highway, and their property confis- 
 cated. 
 
 Among the penitents whose names have 
 descended to us, and whose dying confessions 
 have not been without their earthly record, is 
 M. de Chevenix, a venerable man, fourscore 
 years of age, one of the oldest counsellors of 
 the parliament of Metz. When the soldiers 
 of the king had invested the town, and pur- 
 sued their barbarous system of conversion, by 
 means of every cruelty they could devise, the 
 aged senator, overcome by their persecutions, 
 had, with many others, signed the abjuration, 
 
THE PERSECUTED INVALID. 19 
 
 in order to be relieved from the presence of 
 their oppressors. A short time after, he fell 
 sick, and during his illness, which lasted about 
 two months, he gave many proofs of his 
 repentance for that act of sinful weakness. As 
 soon as this was known, a number of priests 
 hastened to the chamber of the sick man, to 
 set before him the danger of relapsing into his 
 former heresy, and, if possible, to confirm him 
 in the Romish faith. Even the bishop labour- 
 ed to secure the constancy of the new convert. 
 Nor was it priests alone who came to disturb 
 the quiet and repose so necessary to an inva- 
 lid. The governor and the principal mem- 
 bers of the council, likewise gathered around 
 his bed, harassing him with arguments, and 
 pressing on him the superstitions of their 
 church. But his hour of weakness was past. 
 Though he had fallen, he was strengthened to 
 rise again, so that the enemy could not finally 
 triumph over him. He was enabled to resist 
 all their arguments and all their entreaties, 
 with the greatest firmness. A short time be- 
 fore his death, the cure of the place came to 
 offer him the sacraments, as a final trial of his 
 faith. He thanked him mildly, but said, he 
 
20 M. DE CHEVENIX, 
 
 was not disposed to receive them. The priest 
 withdrew, but it was to carry the complaint 
 of his contumacy to the proper court. Life 
 was now rapidly waning, and the sick man 
 expired before any further measures could be 
 taken. It was too late to inflict personal suf- 
 fering on the relapsed heretic, but there was 
 still time to expose his lifeless remains to the 
 indignities decreed by the new law. The 
 Senechal commanded, that the dead body 
 should be carried to prison, and condemned 
 it to be drawn on the hurdle, and afterwards 
 thrown on the highway. To prevent a cir- 
 cumstance so distressing to the feelings of his 
 surviving friends, an appeal was made from 
 the decree of the Senechal, to the parliament 
 of Metz. The senators, though Catholics, 
 were struck with horror, at the idea of con- 
 firming such a sentence against the body of 
 one of their colleagues. They addressed them- 
 selves without delay to the court, to obtain 
 permission to reverse the decree; but they 
 received immediately an order from the king, 
 commanding them to execute it in its fullest 
 rigour. They were then obliged to confirm 
 the sentence of the Senechal, and to deliver 
 
THE PERSECUTED INVALID. 21 
 
 the body to the executioner, to perform the 
 rest of the revolting decree. 
 
 Contrary to the hopes and wishes of the 
 Catholic party, this severity against so res- 
 pected and important an inhabitant of the 
 place,- instead of intimidating the Protestants, 
 tended to rouse their spirits, and determine 
 them to declare their sentiments with more 
 boldness. As the body was drawn through 
 the streets, many testified their indignation at 
 the sight. "Behold a man of God!" ex- 
 claimed some. " He is in his car of triumph," 
 said others. The melancholy spectacle passed 
 on, and others were heard to say, " His body 
 is in the hand of the executioner, but his soul 
 is with his God." Others said, " His body is 
 defiled with dust, but his soul is washed in the 
 blood of Jesus Christ." The soldiers who 
 accompanied the executioner to support him 
 in his duty, in vain endeavoured to keep the 
 people silent: the powerful feeling which had 
 been excited, could not be suppressed in an 
 instant. When the executioner had performed 
 his part, and ended by throwing the lifeless 
 body on the highway, the people of Metz had 
 the courage to carry it away, and inter it 
 
22 M. DE CHEVENIX. 
 
 honourably. It was not the Protestants only, 
 who testified their abhorrence of this act; even 
 the Catholic inhabitants were incensed at this 
 treatment of one of the most respected of their 
 citizens. They wrapped the body in a cloth, 
 and bore it into a garden where a grave was 
 prepared to receive it. Many persons attended 
 to assist in performing the last offices; and it 
 is said more than four hundred women were 
 present. While the body was lowered into 
 the grave, they sung, with a loud voice, the 
 79th Psalm, where the prophet deplores the 
 ruin of Jerusalem in such affecting strains, 
 saying, amongst other things peculiarly appro- 
 priate to the present case, " The dead bodies 
 of thy servants have they given to be meat 
 unto the fowls of heaven, the flesh of thy 
 saints unto the beasts of the earth." 
 
 Instances without number might be adduced 
 of far severer treatment than that of M. Che- 
 venix; but desirous to place these narratives 
 in the hands of young people, we do not wish 
 to shock their feelings, by a detail of many of 
 the horrible excesses of this persecution. 
 
23 
 
 M. D'ALGUE, 
 
 AND THE ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL IN THE 
 MOUNTAINS OF CEVENNES. 
 
 AMONG the severe decrees contained in the 
 Edict of Revocation, was an order for the 
 immediate demolition of all the Protestant 
 churches. This order was so zealously dis- 
 charged, that it is said, in a few days, there 
 was only one left standing in the whole king- 
 dom. At the same time, the reformed were 
 forbidden to celebrate their worship in any 
 private house, or in any place whatever. 
 
 It was however impossible to persuade those 
 who had found delight in the ordinances of 
 God, " to forsake the assembling of themselves 
 together;" and hence arose what the French 
 writers term, " the preaching in the desert." 
 Scarcely were the churches thrown down, and 
 the ministers chased from the kingdom, whei/ 
 their deserted flocks thought of supplying the 
 loss of public worship by private services. 
 
24 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE 
 
 For this end, little companies met together in 
 remote and secret places, amid the stillness 
 and darkness of the night. And oftentimes 
 did they realize that blessed promise of the 
 Saviour, " Where two or three are gathered 
 together in my name, there am I in the midst 
 of them." 
 
 Though their regular pastors were driven 
 into exile, their God, in whom they trusted, 
 did not forsake them, but raised them up 
 "judges, as at the first, and counsellors, as at 
 the beginning." 
 
 " What, when a Paul has run his course, 
 
 Or when Apollos dies, 
 Shall we be left without resource ? 
 Has Israel no supplies ? 
 
 Yes, while the dear Redeemer lives, 
 
 We have a boundless store, 
 And shall be fed with what he gives, 
 
 Who lives for evermore." 
 
 In the absence of their stated pastors, pious 
 and faithful men were raised up to comfort 
 and instruct the persecuted brethren. Gradu- 
 ally their little companies increased, and be- 
 came large assemblies. Consoled and edified 
 
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 25 
 
 by the discourses of the new ministers, the 
 people gladly received them in the place of 
 those whom the tyranny of their oppressors 
 had torn from them. Elders were also ap- 
 pointed, to watch over the conduct of the 
 members, and to give them notice of the time 
 and place for assembling. So closely were 
 they watched by their enemies, that it was 
 often impossible to hold their meetings a 
 second time in the same place, notwithstand- 
 ing all the precautions they took. 
 
 At these assemblies they sung praises to 
 God, and offered up the most fervent prayers. 
 There too they heard, with a delight and 
 interest which we can scarcely conceive, por- 
 tions of the sacred Scriptures. That forbidden 
 book could only be read by stealth and in 
 secret. So cautious were the Catholics to 
 deprive the Protestants of this precious trea- 
 sure, that there was nothing they made more 
 accurate search after, when they entered the 
 houses of the reformed, than Bibles and Tes- 
 taments. These, with all their religious books 
 they could discover, were committed to the 
 flames. 
 
 To these persecuted ones, literally "wan- 
 3 
 
26 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE 
 
 dering in deserts and caves," like those of 
 whom the Holy Spirit has declared, " the 
 world was not worthy," how inexpressibly 
 consoling it must have been, to hear again 
 those blessed promises which abound in the 
 written word! How delightful, once more 
 with their brethren, to return thanks unto the 
 God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 who kept them by his power, "through faith 
 unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last 
 time," " wherein they greatly rejoiced, though 
 now, for a season, they were in heaviness, 
 through manifold temptations!" 
 
 With what energy and unction did the min- 
 isters set before their hearers the great truths 
 of the gospel ! How strongly did they enforce 
 obedience to its commands! How affection- 
 ately did they apply all its consoling promi- 
 ses! In these assemblies also they celebrated 
 the ordinance of the Lord's Supper with the 
 most devout feelings; and while they partook 
 of the symbolic pledges of his love, they felt 
 their faith strengthened; and they often sepa- 
 rated, encouraging each other to devote them- 
 selves wholly to the cause of Christ, and to 
 suffer all things cheerfully for his sake. Thus 
 

 ASSEMBLIES OP THE FAITHFUL. 27 
 
 mutually comforted and edified, they "thanked 
 God, and took courage. " 
 
 It has been often remarked, that in seasons 
 of especial grief, the greatest consolations are 
 vouchsafed. It was in the midst of the over- 
 whelming distresses of the children of Israel, 
 that the light shone miraculously on them in 
 Goshen, when darkness covered the land of 
 their Egyptian oppressors. It was to the dis- 
 consolate Hagar, cast out of the house of her 
 master, and on the point of perishing with her 
 child in the wilderness, that an angel was sent 
 to comfort and strengthen her. It was in a 
 season of the most profound affliction, that the 
 first promises of the gospel were verified to 
 the disciples of Christ. The same has been 
 experienced by the children of God in every 
 age. It was even thus with the members of 
 the Gallic churches, in their fiery trial; and 
 they found Him in whom they trusted, a very 
 present help in time of trouble. Many en- 
 joyed such strong spiritual consolation, and 
 were so lifted above all the sorrows of time, 
 that their souls were absorbed with holy joy. 
 Their seasons of devotional exercise often 
 proved to them means of deepest consolation ; 
 
28 
 
 and the feelings of some were so highly raised, 
 that they believed they heard heavenly voices 
 around them, chanting the praises of God; 
 and that, in their hidden and lonely retreats, 
 angel visitants, though unseen, were near, to 
 strengthen their faith and administer to their 
 comfort in the hour of extremity. And in 
 the latter case, who shall presume to call them 
 mistaken, or to say that they carried their 
 faith to an unwarrantable extent? Are we not 
 assured, that the angels of heaven are " minis- 
 tering spirits, sent forth to minister to the 
 heirs of salvation ?" 
 
 The secret assemblies to which we have 
 alluded, first took place amid the mountains of 
 Cevennes and in Lower Languedoc. (See 
 Appendix, Note 1.) Sometimes they were 
 held in caves, formed by the excavations in 
 the extensive stone quarries of the district; 
 sometimes in lonely houses in desert places; 
 sometimes in the open air, in the most retired 
 situations. Often it happened, that the large 
 barns used by the Catholic clergy for the re- 
 ception of their tithes, standing at a distance 
 from inhabited buildings, offered a convenient 
 rendezvous. In these wild retreats, they met 
 
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 29 
 
 by the light of glimmering lamps for their 
 holy purposes. On one occasion, more than 
 two thousand persons were assembled. The 
 minister, a powerful and energetic preacher, 
 exhorted the congregation to guard against 
 every temptation to join the Catholic party, 
 and never to allow themselves to be led away 
 by the example of those who, to escape per- 
 secution, consented to attend mass. While 
 the preacher pressed on his hearers all the 
 arguments for constancy, M. Arnaud Mar- 
 chand, of St. Hyppolite, suddenly rose, and 
 stretching forth his hand towards heaven, 
 solemnly vowed that he would never more 
 attend mass. Such a protest, in the midst of 
 such a scene, had a powerful effect on the 
 minds of others; and, indeed, the greater part 
 of this large assembly followed his example, 
 and took on them this vow of constancy. 
 
 Whatever hardships were connected with 
 attendance on these nightly meetings, often in 
 the most inconvenient places and in the most 
 inclement weather, happy did the Protestants 
 esteem themselves, if they could repair to the 
 place of rendezvous and return undiscovered. 
 Often they were detected by the watchfulness 
 3* 
 
30 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE 
 
 of their enemies, and too often they were be- 
 trayed by false friends. 
 
 One assembly, in which an excellent min- 
 ister, M. d'Algue, had presided, was discover- 
 ed by one of these pretended friends. They 
 had taken the precaution to place sentinels at 
 all the avenues, to secure themselves against 
 surprise while they were engaged in the ex- 
 ercises of piety. One of those to whom they 
 had confided this office, quitted his post, and 
 hastened to St. Etienne, to give some of the 
 king's troops information of the assembty. 
 An officer and twenty men put themselves 
 under the guidance of the faithless sentinel, 
 who conducted them, but too surely, to the 
 place of meeting. They found the assembly 
 engaged in celebrating the Lord's Supper. In 
 the midst of this peaceful scene of Christian 
 communion, the soldiers rushed in with fury, 
 making a discharge which at once threw 
 many to the ground. Then drawing their 
 swords, they struck indiscriminately at all 
 they met, whether men, women or children, 
 killing some, and wounding great numbers. 
 They afterwards pursued all who had fled on 
 their approach, to hide themselves among the 
 
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 31 
 
 rocks, and treated such as they could find in 
 a similar manner. Among those who had 
 taken flight, there were many who, finding 
 they were pursued by the soldiers, threw 
 themselves into the river which crossed their 
 way, hoping to find the fording place, and 
 pass in safety. But as it was night the greater 
 part were unable to discover the ford, and 
 were carried away by the current and drown- 
 ed. M. d'Algue, their pastor, favoured by 
 the darkness escaped on this occasion, but was 
 taken some time after, together with his 
 friend, the Sieur Roques, one of the elders of 
 the church of Caderles. They had both re- 
 mained firm to their religion, and had been 
 compelled to seek concealment, by wandering 
 about in the forests for eighteen or twenty 
 months. They were at length arrested, and 
 brought to trial. The crimes of w T hich they 
 were accused were, the having kept them- 
 selves concealed for a long time, that they 
 might not be obliged to change their religion; 
 the having assisted at many Protestant assem- 
 blies, and performed in them the functions of 
 ministers or readers. They pleaded guilty to 
 all these charges; and when they were asked if 
 
32 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE 
 
 they were not aware that they had acted con- 
 trary to the orders of the king, they replied, 
 that they had disobeyed these orders because 
 they were contrary to the commands of God, 
 and they ought rather to obey God than man. 
 They were condemned to be hung. A free 
 pardon was offered them, if they would con- 
 sent to sign the abjuration; but they were not 
 men to purchase their lives by such means. 
 
 Contrary to the usual custom, they were 
 conducted to punishment separately, and both 
 met their death with the firmness of devoted 
 martyrs. In going to the place of execution, 
 they were again solicited to unite themselves 
 to the Catholic church, and thus escape the 
 fearful punishment which awaited them; but 
 they both replied, they thanked God that he 
 had given them grace to die for his cause. 
 
 The executioner of Nismes, who performed 
 the fatal office for so many of the followers of 
 Jesus, was, it is said, at length conscience- 
 struck at the enormity of his guilt, and fell 
 into a sickness which proved mortal. During 
 his illness, his place was supplied in a way 
 scarcely credible. His daughter, attired as a 
 man, took the office on herself, and after her 
 
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 33 
 
 father's death she assisted the new execu- 
 tioner. She was in attendance with him on 
 the scaffold of M. d'Algue. Possessed, as she 
 was, by the very spirit of bloodshed and vio- 
 lence, the firmness of the sufferer, instead of 
 commanding her respect, roused her to such 
 dxcess of anger, that she struck him with her 
 clenched fist several times on the face, with 
 inconceivable fury. The patient sufferer bore 
 this indignity without uttering a complaint 
 He listened calmly at the foot of the scaffold, 
 while his condemnation was read aloud, and 
 afterwards mounted the ladder with a cheer- 
 ful air. He then prayed for a blessing on 
 those who had caused his death, and exhorted 
 his persecutors to repent, and be converted, 
 and no longer to war against God. 
 
 Such was the closing act of the life of M. 
 d'Algue. Perhaps there is scarcely one among 
 the accounts of the martyrdoms at Nismes, 
 more simply touching than this, from the 
 peculiar meekness and holy patience of the 
 victim. 
 
 " Then was the evil day of tyranny, 
 
 As yet the Church, the holy spouse of God, 
 
34 M. 
 
 In members few, had wandered in her weeds 
 Of mourning, persecuted, scorned, reproached ; 
 And buffeted, and killed; in members few, 
 Tho' seeming many whiles; then fewest oft 
 When seeming most. She still had hung her harp 
 Upon the willow tree, and sighed, and wept 
 
 From age to age. - 
 
 Troubled on every side, but not distressed; 
 Weeping, but yet despairing not ; cast down, 
 But not destroyed : for she upon the palms 
 Of God was graven, and precious in his sight." 
 
 POLLOK. 
 
35 
 M. FULCRAND RE1. 
 
 THE DEVOTED PASTOR- 
 
 AMONG the ministers who sacrificed their 
 lives on the altar of their faith, was M. Ful- 
 crand Rei, a young man twenty-four years of 
 age, student of theoJogy^at Nismes. From his 
 birth, his parents had devoted him to the 
 ministry, and by the good providence of God 
 he was especially prepared, at an early age, to 
 enter on the holy office, and peculiarly fitted 
 for the discharge of its duties in these trou- 
 blous times, when a double portion of faith, 
 zeal, and unbending constancy was necessary 
 for those who became the ambassadors of 
 Christ to the people. With a heart deeply 
 affected by the desolate state of the churches, 
 he gave himself up unreservedly to the cause 
 of the Redeemer. His first aim was to col- 
 lect together some of the remnants of the scat- 
 tered flocks that were now wandering as sheep 
 
36 M FULCRAND REI, 
 
 without a shepherd. With this view, he went 
 first into Upper Languedoc and Guienne, 
 where his person was not known, and where 
 he therefore might be better able to labour in 
 his office, undiscovered by the enemies of the 
 Protestant church. But he found the minds 
 of the people in these districts so filled with 
 alarm and consternation, that in most instances 
 they dared not listen to his exhortations, or 
 even provide him with a place of retreat. He 
 succeeded, however, in gathering together two 
 or three small assemblies, assisted by two Pro- 
 testant gentlemen, who were themselves fugi- 
 tives, seeking concealment from their adver- 
 saries, having refused to bow the knee to the 
 idol of Catholic worship. Finding himself 
 unable to do more in that quarter, he returned 
 to the neighbourhood of Nismes, hoping there 
 to reap a richer harvest; nor was he altogether 
 disappointed. He was favourably received 
 by his brethren, and had established several 
 assemblies, when he was betrayed by the 
 treachery of a man who had obtained his con- 
 fidence. But his work was not yet finished, 
 and the God whom he served protected him 
 in the midst of his enemies, and enabled him 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 37 
 
 to retire with safety into Languedoc. Here 
 and in Albigeois he resided some time, until 
 new dangers compelled him to return into his 
 native province. Arrived once more in the 
 vicinity of Nismes, it was impossible for him 
 to resume his pastoral labours among his 
 former friends, as it was necessary for him to 
 keep himself as closely concealed as possible, 
 in order that he might escape the observation 
 of his enemies. But to a truly devoted mind, 
 means of usefulness will occur, in situations 
 apparently the most unfavourable. 
 
 M. Rei was enabled, from his obscure re- 
 treat to pour consolation into the hearts of his 
 suffering brethren confined in the prisons of 
 the district, by the letters he addressed to 
 them, tending powerfully to strengthen their 
 faith, and confirm them in the resolution to 
 suffer every evil their persecutors could inflict, 
 rather than desert the holy cause in which 
 they were engaged. While thus occupied 
 with the talent at that time committed to his 
 care, a way unexpectedly opened for more 
 extensive usefulness. He received an invita- 
 tion to go into the Cevennes, where a large 
 body of the faithful sighed after the word of 
 4 
 
38 M. FULCRAND REI, 
 
 God. He obeyed this call with joy and 
 thankfulness, though fully aware of the dan- 
 gers he encountered in accepting so prominent 
 a station among the persecuted. Impressed 
 with a sense of the perils which awaited him, 
 he would not expose either himself or his 
 father to the anguish of a personal adieu, but 
 addressed a farewell letter to him before he 
 left Nismes, entreating him to prepare himself 
 for the early martyrdom of his son; telling 
 him that his conscience inspired him to go 
 and sacrifice himself for God, and for the 
 interest of the church. He expressed his en- 
 tire resignation to the will of his heavenly 
 Master, in whatever way he might see fit to 
 dispose of him; and he exhorted his father not 
 to murmur, in case he should hear that he was 
 arrested, but to endure patiently all the suf- 
 ferings it should please God to send him. 
 Arrived in the Cevennes, he preached the gos- 
 pel with truth and fervour. To those who 
 were faithful in the midst of so many trials, 
 he addressed the word of consolation. Those 
 who had fallen into the snares of the enemy, 
 he exhorted to retrace their steps, and to re- 
 turn to their allegiance, as faithful followers 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 39 
 
 of Jesus Christ. Those who were wavering, 
 he sought to confirm in the right path, by the 
 most powerful and affecting arguments. 
 
 While he thus laboured with the zeal of an 
 apostle, the enemies of the good cause to 
 which he was devoted watched for his des- 
 truction, and, a second time, a treacherous 
 friend was found to betray his place of retreat. 
 He was at Anduze, concealed in the house of 
 a tanner in the suburbs. To this house the 
 officers of government were conducted by the 
 traitor, and M. Rei was seized, and dragged 
 before a magistrate with great violence. From 
 thence he was committed to prison, loaded 
 with irons, and kept constantly within sight 
 of the dragoons, lest some means of effecting 
 his escape should be devised. From the pri- 
 son of Anduze he was transferred to that of 
 Alez, from Alez to Nismes, and from Nismes 
 to Beaucaire. Every where he was exposed 
 to the persecutions of the monks and others, 
 who undertook to labour for the conversion of 
 the heretics. They tried every means to shake 
 his constancy, but in vain. When interro- 
 gated by his judges, with regard to the accu- 
 sations brought against him, he replied fear- 
 
40 M. FULCRAND RET, 
 
 lessly, that he had preached often, and in 
 every place where he had found the faithful 
 assembled. But when they wished to carry 
 their inquiries further, arid to induce him to 
 discover the names of those who attended the 
 assemblies in which he had presided, he gave 
 no answer, and nothing could draw any fur- 
 ther information from his lips. 
 
 Fearful of unnerving his mind by inter- 
 views with those to whom he was bound by 
 the dearest and tenderest ties, he begged, as 
 an especial favour of the officer who conducted 
 him to Nismes, that he might not be permit- 
 ted to see his father, or any of his relations 
 there; but that they might simply be inform- 
 ed, that he was entirely resigned to the will 
 of God, and that the most cruel punishments 
 could not shake his constancy. 
 
 It was determined that he should be exe- 
 cuted at Beaucaire, rather than at Nismes, 
 because of the great number of Protestants in 
 Nismes, whose faith, it was feared, might be 
 strengthened by such an example of firmness 
 as the young pastor exhibited; while their 
 feelings could not fail to be deeply affected by 
 witnessing the death of this devoted servant 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 41 
 
 of God, cut off in the midst of his days, by the 
 hand of the cruel oppressor. Such a sight 
 was certainly no argument in favour of that 
 church under whose sanction the deed was 
 done. 
 
 Beaucaire, four leagues from Nismes, had 
 long been the residence of Catholics, wholly 
 devoted to the superstitions of the Romish 
 church, and the light of the reformation had 
 never penetrated there. To this place, there- 
 fore, M. Rei was transferred for the final pun- 
 ishment. Here, as at other places, he had to 
 listen to the arguments of the monks and other 
 persons, who came to persuade him to change 
 his religion. The intendant, Baville, one of 
 his judges, touched, it should seem, with un- 
 wonted compassion, came to speak to him. 
 He took him aside, and conjured him to have 
 pity on himself. He threatened him with 
 death if he persevered in his faith, and pro- 
 mised him life, if he would abandon his reli- 
 gion. But neither threats nor promises had 
 power to shake his resolution. 
 
 When he was brought out for the final exa- 
 mination before the judges, the intendant 
 made a last effort to prevail with him to 
 4* 
 
42 M. FULCRAND REI, 
 
 change his opinion. "M. Rei," said he 
 " there is yet time to save yourself." " Yes, 
 my lord," replied M. Rei, "and I will employ 
 for my salvation the time that remains to 
 me." "It is only necessary to change," con- 
 tinued the intendant, "and you shall live." 
 "It is indeed necessary to change," replied 
 M. Reij " but it is in going from earth to 
 heaven, where a life of happiness awaits me, 
 which I shall soon possess." The intendant 
 assured him that he might depend on his 
 words, and that he would really grant him his 
 life, if he would change his religion. " Do 
 not promise me this miserable life," said he; 
 " I am entirely weaned from it. Death is 
 better than life for me. If I had feared 
 death," he continued, " I should not have 
 been here. God has given me a knowledge 
 of his truth, and he will grant me grace to 
 profess it constantly unto death. For all the 
 treasures in the world, I would not renounce 
 those which God has prepared for me in 
 paradise." 
 
 After this, he was again examined on the 
 charges brought against him. The intendant 
 asked if he had preached: "Yes, my lord," 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 43 
 
 was the reply. He was then asked where he 
 had preached: he answered, "I have preached 
 in all places where I have found the assemblies 
 of the faithful." He was asked if he knew 
 the king had forbidden it: "The King of 
 kings," said he, " had commanded me to do 
 it; and it is right to obey God rather than 
 man." 
 
 Again they attempted to discover in what 
 places the assemblies at which he had presided 
 were held, and what were the names of the 
 persons who attended. But on this subject 
 his lips were firmly closed, and nothing could 
 induce him to expose his brethren to danger. 
 
 Finding him immovable, they proceeded to 
 pass the sentence. He was condemned to be 
 hung; but first the torture was to be applied, 
 to make him discover his accomplices. The 
 commissary, whose office it was to read the 
 decree of the court to the prisoner, desirous, if 
 possible, to save a man whose heroic conduct 
 excited interest in every breast, entreated him 
 once more to think of himself. "I have 
 thought/' replied he, "and my resolution is 
 taken. It is no longer a question of delibe- 
 ration. I am quite ready to die, if God has 
 
44 M. FULCRANU REI, 
 
 so ordained it. All the promises which may 
 be made to me can never shake my constancy." 
 
 The commissary, convinced of the firmness 
 of his prisoner, at length read the paper of 
 condemnation. He heard it without change 
 of countenance, or any appearance of fear or 
 sorrow: on the contrary, he testified his joy 
 that God had given him grace to suffer for his 
 name, and expressed his thankfulness that he 
 had been condemned to a milder punishment 
 than he had anticipated. " They treat me," 
 he said, "more mildly than my Saviour was 
 treated. I had prepared myself to be broken 
 on the wheel, or burnt alive." Then raising 
 his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed: " I return 
 thee thanks, Lord of heaven and earth, for the 
 many benefits thou hast bestowed upon me. 
 I thank thee that thou hast counted me worthy 
 to suffer for thy name, and to die for thee; 
 and I thank thee also, that thou hast called me 
 to suffer a death so mild, after having disposed 
 me to endure the most cruel death for love of 
 thee." 
 
 Though the torture was applied with the 
 utmost severity, he endured it with so much 
 firmness, that he did not allow a single com- 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 45 
 
 plaint to escape him. During this punish- 
 ment, nothing was extorted from him to the 
 disadvantage of his brethren. He made no 
 reply to the questions which were put to him, 
 except that he had said all, and had nothing 
 more to confess. When he was released from 
 the torture, he said to those around him, " I 
 "Tiave scarcely suffered. I believe that you 
 have suffered more than I have. I protest to 
 you, I have scarcely felt any pain." It was 
 proposed to him to take some food; he did not 
 object: he even ate tranquilly, although he 
 knew he had only a few hours to live. 
 During his repast, he said to those about him, 
 "Others eat to live, and I eat to die. This is 
 the last repast I shall take on earth; but in 
 heaven there is a banquet prepared, to which 
 I am invited, and angels will this night con- 
 duct me to it. Glorified spirits will soon 
 carry me away to participate with them in the 
 joys of paradise/' 
 
 From this time the monks constantly at- 
 tended him, persecuting him with their per- 
 suasions and arguments; but he confounded 
 them* all by his answers. In the midst of 
 these distractions, he evidently sought to raise 
 
46 M. FULCRAND REI, 
 
 his soul continually to God. Sometimes he 
 gave utterance to fervent prayer, or chanted 
 portions of the Psalms. The constancy and 
 the devotion displayed in these last hours of 
 his life, touched the hearts of all his attendants; 
 even the monks could not restrain their tears. 
 In the evening, when they were about to 
 conduct him to the place of punishment, two 
 monks presented themselves to accompany 
 him, and told him they were come to comfort 
 him. "I have no need of you," he replied: 
 "I have a more faithful comforter within me." 
 One of them said, " But do you not wish that 
 we should accompany you?" " No," replied 
 the martyr; " I have the company of angels, 
 who are about my person, and who have pro- 
 mised that they will be with me to my latest 
 breath." But the monks were not to be pre- 
 vented from attending him: they walked on 
 either side of him, and were witnesses of the 
 constancy with which he went to martyrdom. 
 His countenance was radiant with joy, and he 
 gave striking proofs of the faith and hope, 
 which filled his heart. The streets through 
 which he passed were crowded with people, 
 and among them he perceived many persons 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 47 
 
 of his acquaintance who had abjured the Pro- 
 testant religion. He saluted them; and seeing 
 the tears flow from their eyes, he said, "Weep 
 not for me, weep for yourselves: I shall very 
 soon he delivered from the sufferings of this 
 world, but I leave you behind. Repent, and 
 God will have mercy on you." 
 
 He was led out of the town by the gate of 
 Beauregarde. It was from this gate that he 
 discovered the scaffold which was prepared 
 for him. He had no sooner seen it, than he 
 exclaimed with holy transport, "Courage! 
 Courage! This is the place which I have so 
 long desired, and for which God himself has 
 prepared me. I see the heavens open to re- 
 ceive me, and angels prepare to bear me 
 away." 
 
 As he approached nearer, he began to sing 
 a Psalm, but silence was imposed on him. 
 Having reached the foot of the scaffold, he 
 exclaimed, " 0, how favourable is this ladder 
 to me; .it will serve me as a step to mount to 
 heaven!" After this, he knelt down, and 
 continued a long time in prayer, making use 
 of many parts of the fifty-first Psalm, which 
 he pronounced aloud, and with much fervour. 
 
48 M. FULCRAND REI, 
 
 Having concluded his prayer, he mounted the 
 ladder with firmness and composure. Seeing 
 one of the monks ascending after him, he 
 gently repulsed him saying, "I have already 
 said, and I tell you again, that I have no need 
 of your assistance: I have received enough 
 from my God to enable me to take the last 
 step in my career." 
 
 He would have addressed the people, but 
 as soon as he opened his mouth, a number of 
 kettle drums were struck to prevent his voice 
 from being heard. Perceiving that it would 
 be in vain to speak, he resigned himself into 
 the hands of the executioner, with the same 
 firmness as he had evinced from the first. 
 Soon the last act of the tragedy was finished, 
 and the lifeless body was all that remained on 
 earth of M. Fulcrand Rei. Even the dark- 
 ened inhabitants of Beaucaire testified emo- 
 tion at his death, and many exclaimed aloud, 
 that he had died a true martyr. 
 
 " Ye who your Lord's commission bear, 
 His way of mercy to prepare 
 Angels He calls ye be your strife 
 To lead on earth an angel's life. 
 Think not of rest ; though dreams be sweet, 
 
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 49 
 
 Start up and ply your heavenward feet. 
 
 Is not God's oath upon your head, 
 
 Ne'er to shrink back on slothful bed? 
 
 Never again your loins untie, 
 
 Nor let your torches waste and die, 
 
 Till when the shadows thickest fall, 
 
 Ye hear your Master's midnight call?*' KEBLE. 
 
 
50 
 
 JEAN MIGAULT,* 
 
 THE READER OF MOULLB. 
 
 AT the village of Moulle, a few leagues from 
 Niort, in the department of the Deux Sev- 
 res, lived Jean Migault. He had married, 
 at the age of eighteen, an amiable and pious 
 woman, and at five-and-thirty he saw himself 
 the father of eleven children. To support 
 this numerous family, together with his 
 mother-in-law, who resided with them, all his 
 exertions were necessary. He inherited a 
 very small patrimony, and he had been ap- 
 pointed to succeed his father as reader in the 
 Protestant church of the place. With this 
 he combined the office of public notary, and 
 
 * The circumstances here detailed, are drawn from 
 " A Narrative of the Sufferings of a French Protestant 
 Family, written by John Migault, the Father. Trans- 
 lated, and now first published from the original Manu- 
 script. London, 1824." 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 51 
 
 he undertook the tuition of a number of pupils, 
 twelve of whom boarded at his house. All 
 these various functions he seems to have dis- 
 charged faithfully ; and he records, with thank- 
 fulness, the peace and prosperity which at- 
 tended him in these years of busy occupation. 
 
 " Domestic happiness, the only bliss 
 Of Paradise that has survived the fall," 
 
 was his in a high degree; and the pious grati- 
 tude with which Jean Migault and his wife 
 received their every comfort, as immediate 
 gifts from their Heavenly Father, communi- 
 cated to all an inexpressible sweetness. 
 
 While months and years were thus passing 
 happily away in the village of Moulle, a dark 
 cloud was rising in the distance, which gradu- 
 ally extended itself, and at last burst on the 
 Protestants of France, in a fearful storm of 
 persecution. Jean Migault and his wife were 
 not unobservant spectators of the coming dan- 
 ger. They foresaw that some terrible crisis 
 drew near, though, like the prophet's servant 
 on Mount Carmel, they could discern the 
 symptoms of its approach only as a cloud no 
 bigger than a man's hand. The Protestants 
 
52 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 were still living under the protection of that 
 act of toleration so celebrated as the edict of 
 Nantes; but the power of the Jesuits, their 
 unwearied enemies, was daily gaining ground 
 in the court of Louis XIV. Every year they 
 succeeded in curtailing the privileges of the 
 Protestant church. 
 
 As the year 1685 approached, their acts be- 
 came more and more oppressive; and many, 
 alarmed by the signs of the times, already re- 
 tired to foreign countries. The reader of 
 Moull6 and his family, although anxious ob- 
 servers of these things, placing their humble 
 trust in Him, who had hitherto provided for 
 them, still pursued their occupations, and wait- 
 ed in patience the result of these oppressions. 
 They little imagined how fearful the termina- 
 tion would be. 
 
 First came a decree, in 1681, depriving 
 Protestants of all civil employments what- 
 ever, and including many other severities for 
 those who continued firm in the faith of the 
 Reformed church. By this stroke Migault's 
 income was greatly lessened; in the first place, 
 by the loss of his office as notary, and next, 
 by the secession of many of his friends and 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 53 
 
 neighbours to the Catholic church. These 
 timid Protestants, when distress and persecu- 
 tion arose because of the word, fell away, and 
 as they were fearful of risking their charac- 
 ters among their newly-acquired brethren, by 
 leaving their children under the care of a Pro- 
 testant, Migault's school was so much dimin- 
 ished, as to leave him little chance of provi- 
 ding for his family from that source. At this 
 juncture, the members of the consistory invi- 
 ted him to establish himself at Mougon, and 
 offered him a salary of sixty francs a year, if 
 he would exercise the functions of reader and 
 secretary to the church there. It was not 
 until after much deliberation, that this offer 
 was accepted by the Migaults, whose hearts 
 were filled with mournful presages of the fate 
 which awaited them at Mougon. Thither 
 they removed in February, 1681. They 
 were no sooner arrived, than they met with 
 immediate opposition and unkindness from 
 the Catholic minister resident there. It is 
 probable the circumstance of Migault's com- 
 ing to officiate in the Protestant church, ex- 
 cited that determined enmity in the heart of 
 the cur, which he afterwards found too many 
 5* 
 
54 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 occasions to display. He began by forbidding 
 Migault to take up his residence at Mougon, 
 and threatening him with the severest conse- 
 quences if he settled himself any where with- 
 in the limits of his territory. Not conceiving 
 it would be in the power of this stern bigot to 
 execute his threats, he was not intimidated, 
 and he fixed himself in his new residence as 
 quietly as he could, with his wife and his 
 mother-in-law, his eleven children, and his 
 twelve scholars. 
 
 There this truly respectable family resum- 
 ed their wonted employments, and were per- 
 mitted to remain four or five months undis- 
 turbed by their enemies. At the end of that 
 period, the peaceable inhabitants of Mougon 
 were alarmed by the arrival of one of those 
 regiments of cavalry, which had filled so 
 many of the Protestant towns and villages 
 with consternation and distress. The first 
 movement of these dragoons, when they en- 
 tered any place, was to quarter themselves at 
 the houses of the Protestants, where they ex- 
 hibited the most rapacious conduct, rarely 
 quitting them until the owners were entirely 
 ruined, unless they avoided this extremity by 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 55 
 
 renouncing their faith. The moment they 
 professed themselves Catholics, their persecu- 
 tors left them, and repaired to the house of 
 the nearest heretic, to assist such of their com- 
 rades as were already stationed there, in com- 
 pleting either the conversion or the ruin of 
 this family also. 
 
 Every day, numbers of these forced con- 
 verts were seen hastening to attend mass. 
 Such was the terror occasioned by the arrival 
 of the dragoons, in consequence of the cruel- 
 ties of which they had been guilty, that it is 
 said, a single soldier has been known to de- 
 termine all the first families in a place to ab- 
 jure their religion, by merely riding into the 
 town with some scraps of paper in his hand, 
 which he pretended were quarter-master's bil- 
 lets. This readiness to change in the many, 
 aggravated tenfold the sufferings of the few 
 who remained firm and unshaken. In gene- 
 ral, the soldiers did not quit a parish while 
 there was a single Protestant remaining, or 
 any property belonging to them which could 
 be converted into money. The mode of car- 
 rying on these executions was extremely sys- 
 tematic. They began by demanding of their 
 
56 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 involuntary hosts sums of the following 
 amount: for a superior officer fifteen francs a 
 day, for a lieutenant nine francs, for a private 
 soldier three francs, and thirty sols for the 
 lowest individual in any way attached to the 
 regiment. If these demands were not prompt- 
 ly complied with, they seized and sold furni- 
 ture, cattle, or whatever they could most rea- 
 dily find to answer their purpose. Many of 
 the Catholics acquired riches by these sales; 
 for the officer who sold the goods, seldom paid 
 any regard to the real value of the article, but 
 took whatever price was -offered, and if one 
 thing did not bring him enough money, di- 
 rectly sold more to make up the deficiency. 
 Thus cruelly oppressed and despoiled, those 
 who would not apostatize, were generally 
 compelled, in the end, to fly, in order to save 
 their lives, or to avoid imprisonment. Often 
 they effected their escape in the night with 
 their wives and children, and then had no 
 resource but to wander in the woods, without 
 food, and almost without clothing. There 
 might be seen also women, separated from 
 their husbands, accompanied by their little 
 ones, driven wild with terror and distress, 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 57 
 
 and still flying, when they were no longer 
 pursued by their enemies. 
 
 The persecution had raged for some time in 
 the neighbourhood, and warned by what was 
 passing around him, Migault had prudently 
 dismissed his pupils, and sent his own chil- 
 dren into more secure asylums. They were 
 now twelve in number. Jean and Louis, un- 
 der the care of their grandmother, repaired to 
 the Chateau of Grand Breuil, belonging to 
 Madame de la Bessiere. Ann, Pierre, and 
 Elizabeth, were concealed at M. Magnen's, in 
 the Chateau of Gascongnolles. Jacques was 
 with a third friend; Charles and Gabriel with 
 a fourth; Jeanne and Marie with a fifth, and 
 Philemon with a sixth. One only remained 
 near the parents: this was an infant, seven- 
 teen days old, named Rene. He was under 
 the care of a trusty nurse, who it was intend- 
 ed should have the care of him till his second 
 year. The nurse and her husband, though 
 Catholics, were the faithful friends of their 
 Protestant employers. Events soon occurred, 
 which proved the wisdom of these measures. 
 On the 22d of August, as the Protestant inha- 
 bitants of the place were returning from 
 
58 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 church, they were alarmed by the appearance 
 of a troop of cavalry, commanded by M. de 
 la Brique. This officer, advancing at a gallop, 
 quickly posted his troop in the church-yard, 
 and filled the most courageous of the people 
 with terror, by his fierce and threatening de- 
 meanour, combined with the knowledge they 
 all had of the severities exercised by this very 
 troop in other places. 
 
 Scarcely had the trembling Migaults reach- 
 ed their habitation, when a quarter-master 
 rode up, and without alighting, demanded in 
 an imperious tone, whether they intended to 
 turn Catholics. They were well aware that 
 their only means to secure themselves from 
 the oppressions of the soldiery, was to answer 
 in the affirmative; but endued with strength 
 from on high to withstand the temptation 
 under which so many sunk, they joined in 
 solemnly assuring him that nothing could in- 
 duce them to change their religion. On 
 receiving this answer, he withdrew imme- 
 diately, but with an air little calculated to 
 quiet their fears. Left alone for a few mo- 
 ments, they had no resource but silently to 
 commend themselves in prayer to Him in 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 59 
 
 whose holy cause they were sufferers, and 
 who hath most consolingly declared, " There 
 is no man who hath left house, or parents, or 
 brethren, or wife, or children, for the king- 
 dom of God's sake, who shall not receive 
 manifold more in this present time, and, in 
 the world to come, life everlasting." His 
 Holy Spirit was present to comfort and sup- 
 port these humble Christians in their hour of 
 trial. Scarcely had the quarter-master retired, 
 when he was succeeded by the commanding 
 officer, M. de la Brique, who sternly demand- 
 ed what sum they would give him per day, 
 during his stay in the place; giving them to 
 understand, that according to their liberality 
 towards himself, he should fix the number of 
 soldiers to be quartered on them. He was 
 told, that they had really no money at all to 
 offer him. Perfectly unmoved by this decla- 
 ration, he proceeded to examine every part of 
 the house, and afterwards the stables; and 
 then withdrew, leaving them uncertain what 
 punishment he would deem due to them for 
 refusing to give him what they did not pos- 
 sess. 
 
 They were not left long in suspense. Two 
 
60 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 soldiers soon presented themselves with their 
 billets; and having lodged their horses in the 
 stable, commanded their host to prepare a din- 
 ner for them. They gave detailed orders 
 for their meal, which, without exaggeration, 
 would have been sufficient for twenty persons. 
 While the food was preparing, two more ar- 
 rived, and having placed their horses in the 
 stable, joined their comrades in the house. 
 These were quickly followed by a fifth. The 
 presence of five rapacious and insolent sol- 
 diers, might have been thought enough for a 
 single family to endure; but scarcely were 
 these all arrived, when they were followed by 
 four others, who, under pretext that the hay 
 they had found in the stable was not of the 
 best quality, began to use the most abusive 
 language to their host, and to give utterance 
 to the grossest imprecations, and the most im- 
 pious blasphemies. 
 
 All the company then began to demand, 
 with loud threats, a supply of different arti- 
 cles, which it was impossible to obtain in that 
 little town. Migault represented to them, 
 that the only means of procuring these things 
 was by sending to Niort; and in their eager- 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. Q\ 
 
 ness to get what they had asked for, they gave 
 him permission to go out and seek for a mes- 
 senger. On leaving his house, his first care 
 was to repair to that of two Catholic ladies, 
 which was contiguous to his own, and which 
 even had a communication with it, by means 
 of a concealed door. These benevolent wo- 
 men, uninfluenced by their differences in reli- 
 gion, were his warm and devoted friends, as 
 they had soon occasion to prove themselves. 
 To these ladies he addressed himself, begging 
 they would point out some person whom he 
 might send on his errand to Niort. While he 
 was still speaking with them, six soldiers rode 
 up to the door, and demanded a direction to 
 Migault's house. The ladies pointed out the 
 house, and then returning to their poor friend, 
 earnestly recommended him to fly, as the only 
 means of safety. They told him that the 
 arrival of this additional number of soldiers to 
 be quartered at his house, was a proof that his 
 enemies were resolved on his ruin; and indeed 
 they knew but too certainly that the cure was 
 determined to leave no means untried to ac- 
 complish it. They said it would be the height 
 of imprudence to return to his house, and 
 6 
 
62 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 could benefit nobody; and that, if he would 
 consent to conceal himself, they would pro- 
 mise not to abandon his wife, and they would 
 even venture to assure him, that before the 
 end of the day they would find means to with- 
 draw her likewise from the power of their 
 enemies. This they would undertake to do, 
 whatever might be the consequence of their 
 interference to themselves. Poor Migault 
 lifted up his heart to God, and implored him, 
 in his mercy, to grant him wisdom to direct 
 his steps aright. All the perils of a return tp 
 his dwelling presented themselves forcibly to 
 his mind, and he resolved to follow the advice 
 of these excellent women, as the only proba- 
 ble way of extricating either himself or his 
 wife from their distressing situation. One of 
 these kind-hearted friends conducted him, by 
 a back street, into a garden surrounded by 
 high walls. There she left him, locking the 
 door after her. It was then between three 
 and four o'clock in the afternoon, and he re- 
 mained in the garden until eight in the even- 
 ing, tortured with a thousand fears for his 
 wife. He fancied that he even heard her 
 calling on his name for assistance, and gently 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 63 
 
 reproaching him for having abandoned her at 
 the time when she most needed his support. 
 In truth, her sufferings, during the hours he 
 remained in the garden, were still greater than 
 his imagination had depicted; so great indeed, 
 that when he came to hear the circumstances, 
 he could only attribute it to a particular inter- 
 ference of a merciful Providence that her life 
 was preserved. She was at the time in a deli- 
 cate state of health, having never recovered 
 her strength since the birth of her infant, and 
 therefore was the more especially unfit to 
 endure hardship. But nothing moved these 
 men to pity. As soon as they suspected that 
 Migault had made his escape, they resolved to 
 wreak their vengeance on his wife. Weak 
 and exhausted as she was, she had dragged 
 herself, at their command, to another apart- 
 ment to fetch them more wine. One of the 
 soldiers now went in search of her, and strik- 
 ing her with violence, brought her. back into 
 the dining-room: then, with the most barbar- 
 ous irony, he told her that in her weak state 
 it must be desirable to keep her as warm as 
 possible, and he compelled her to sit in the 
 chimney-corner, while his companions made 
 
64 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 a large fire. They even amused themselves 
 with feeding the fire, by throwing on it arti- 
 cles of furniture they found in the room. 
 Meanwhile the heat was so great, that those 
 who detained the poor victim so close to it 
 were obliged to relieve each other every few 
 minutes. But " this admirable woman," says 
 her husband, " knowing in whom she had 
 believed, did not for a single instant lose her 
 tranquillity of soul. She resigned into the 
 hands of her Saviour all which could disquiet 
 or torment her." Her persecutors tried to 
 induce her to renounce the Protestant faith, 
 but she repulsed all their importunities with 
 firmness, until overcome by the distressing 
 effects of their cruelty, she fainted, and be- 
 came insensible to their outrages. 
 
 The benevolent Catholic ladies were not 
 unmindful of their promise to Migault. They 
 were present at this scene, and sought in vain 
 to soften the ferocious men by whom they 
 saw their poor neighbour surrounded. They 
 threw themselves at the feet of the officer, 
 entreating him to release her from her tor- 
 mentors. Their intercession was in vain; the 
 officer was as inexorable as the men: but that 
 
JEAN MIGAtJET. 65 
 
 gracious God who is ever ready to aid his 
 children in the midst of their greatest perils, 
 had provided a deliverer for her. A few days 
 before, some business had called away the cure 
 who was so much the enemy of the Migaults, 
 to a distance, and his place was supplied for a 
 short time by the vicar, who was an excellent 
 man, and one who had often testified his re- 
 gard for these good Protestants. He was in 
 the midst of a numerous circle of his friends, 
 when some one told him of the cruelties exer- 
 cised by the soldiers, and he hastened to the 
 house, to exert his influence for the relief of 
 the poor sufferer. He succeeded in rescuing 
 Madame Migault from the hands of her per- 
 secutors, but not until he had first engaged to 
 return her to them, unless he could induce her 
 to embrace the Catholic religion by his milder 
 arguments. Her charitable neighbours heard 
 this engagement made on the part of the mi- 
 nister, and were resolved to leave him no 
 opportunity to fulfil it. They immediately 
 led their poor friend, more dead than alive, 
 into another apartment; and when the vicar 
 would have followed, they told him, that in 
 the state of health in which she was, it was 
 6* 
 
66 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 absolutely necessary to leave her alone with 
 them for a few moments of repose. As soon 
 as they had dismissed the friendly vicar, they 
 hurried the poor invalid through the secret 
 door, into their own dwelling; and then, assist- 
 ing her to ascend to the garret, concealed her 
 under a heap of linen which happened to be 
 there. Having arranged their plan as speedily 
 as possible, they returned through the secret 
 door to the house of Migault, and presented 
 themselves calmly before the vicar, who im- 
 mediately demanded, " Where is my pri- 
 soner?" "She is no longer in the power of 
 these monsters in human form," they replied. 
 " Ah, well," said the liberal-minded minister, 
 " may the All-powerful grant to her and her 
 husband his merciful protection:" and without 
 staying to speak again to the soldiers, he left 
 the house. 
 
 It would be difficult to describe the rage of 
 the disappointed soldiers, when their victim 
 was escaped. They examined every corner 
 of the house, and even proceeded to that of 
 the charitable ladies. The very garret in 
 which Madame Migault was hidden, was sub- 
 mitted to their search: but here the protecting 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 67 
 
 care of that gracious God in whom she trusted, 
 was especially manifested; the heap of linen 
 was the only thing in the room they did not 
 examine. After this vain attempt at disco- 
 very, the soldiers returned to Migault's house, 
 to console themselves for their loss, by drink- 
 ing the wine, and seizing on every thing they 
 wished. The ladies hastened to inform Mi- 
 gault of the safety of his wife, and directing 
 him to take the most hidden road to the 
 neighbouring forest, promised to bring her at 
 nightfall, to meet him at a particular spot. 
 
 The meeting was happily effected; as the 
 soldiers, instead of watching the roads, re- 
 mained at the house, making merry over the 
 wine. The fugitives made their way as ra- 
 pidly as they could, to the Chateau of Gas- 
 congnolles, on the road to Niort, where they 
 had been advised to take refuge. They were 
 hospitably received by the owner, and pre- 
 vailed on to retire to rest; but so great was 
 the agitation of their minds, that they could 
 not close their eyes. Every noise seemed to 
 them like the trampling of steeds, and every 
 voice like the menaces of soldiers, seeking 
 their destruction. Unable to feel any confi- 
 
68 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 dence of safety while they were so near Mou- 
 gon, they parted from their generous enter- 
 tainer, and proceeded two leagues further to 
 Niort. Here they took up their abode at the 
 house of another friend, carefully confining 
 themselves to their room, lest their retreat 
 should be discovered. The soldiers, however, 
 had a wide field before them, and having ob- 
 tained all the pillage they could in one quar- 
 ter, they soon passed on to another, but not 
 without leaving mournful traces of their visits. 
 It might almost be said of them, " The land 
 was as the garden of Eden before them, and 
 behind them a desolate wilderness." 
 
 After some time had passed, the persecuted 
 Protestants, finding all was quiet, ventured to 
 steal forth from their hiding-places. In order 
 to ascertain how far it might be safe for the 
 family, but especially for Migault himself, to 
 return to Mougon, his courageous and devoted 
 wife went alone to the chateau of Gascon- 
 gnolles. Here she heard of the destruction of 
 part of their furniture, and the sale of the rest. 
 She afterwards went to her deserted home, 
 accompanied by three of her children, and 
 endeavoured to purchase back such portions 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 69 
 
 of her household goods as the little money she 
 had to offer would procure. Very little could 
 be obtained; for those who had purchased the 
 articles at the sale, for a twentieth part of their 
 value, would not now dispose of them, except 
 at a price she was unable to give. Nothing 
 remained for them to do, but to commit their 
 cause to Him who judgeth righteously, and 
 acquiesce submissively in what he permits, as 
 well as what he ordains, assured that he can 
 bring good out of evil, and will cause all 
 things to work together for good to those who 
 fear his name. 
 
 Bereft of occupation, and not knowing how 
 to provide for his family, Migault set out with 
 two of his sons, without any determined ob- 
 ject in view. They went first to Grand 
 Breuil, and from thence to Rochelle. At this 
 port they found many Protestant families from 
 their own neighbourhood, whom the terrors 
 of the persecution had driven from their 
 homes, and who were waiting to embark for 
 Holland, England, Ireland, and a few for Car- 
 olina. These respectable and unoffending 
 people seemed filled with consternation, and 
 it was affecting to witness the deplorable cir- 
 
 
70 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 cumstances under which they were quitting 
 their native country. 
 
 In 1681, the government put forth a decla- 
 ration, permitting children to renounce their 
 religion at the age of seven years, and under 
 the sanction of this decree, great numbers of 
 children were seized by the agents of the 
 Roman Catholic church to make them abjure. 
 The dread of having their children torn from 
 them, determined numbers of families in Poi- 
 tou, Saintonge, and the neighbouring pro- 
 vinces, to emigrate, so early as 1681, and thus 
 escape the horrors which awaited those who 
 remained in the kingdom. Poor Migault also 
 meditated the departure of himself and those 
 dearest to him; but he knew not how to carry 
 his plans into effect, with his family scattered 
 over so wide a space of country. For the 
 present it seemed impossible, and he finally 
 determined to retrace his steps to Grand 
 Breuil, with his two dear boys, not venturing 
 as yet to be seen at his old post. At Grand 
 Breuil he remained during the vintage; and 
 then, finding that the cavalry had retired to a 
 considerable distance from Mougon, he re- 
 paired thither, flattering himself with the hope 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 71 
 
 that they might not be molested again. He 
 now ventured to assemble around him again 
 the whole of his beloved family. Whatever 
 other possessions the marauders had been per- 
 mitted to tear from him, these, his dearest 
 earthly treasures, were still preserved; and 
 with hearts full of gratitude, parents and chil- 
 dren found themselves once more gathered 
 together under that lowly roof, beneath which 
 they had heretofore enjoyed so much domestic 
 happiness. Some of their pupils likewise re- 
 turned; the school was again in active opera- 
 tion, and they were all busily occupied, and 
 thankfully enjoying this return to the peaceful 
 duties of their station. But scarcely had they 
 tasted the cup of joy, when it was again dashed 
 from their lips. Only two weeks after they 
 had returned to their dwelling and resumed 
 their occupations, a body of troops entered the 
 adjoining parish of Thorigne. It was chiefly 
 inhabited by Protestants, who had been ena- 
 bled to stand firm in the day of trial, during 
 the first visit of the military to that quarter. 
 Very few had been induced to renounce their 
 creed; and the cure, a severe and bigoted 
 man, was so incensed by the constancy they 
 
72 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 exhibited, that he now instigated the soldiers 
 to acts of wanton cruelty, compared with 
 which their former conduct was mild and 
 harmless. But the good protestants of Tho- 
 rigne were still enabled to stand their ground. 
 He in whose gracious keeping they confided, 
 and for whose sake they were willing to bear 
 all manner of evil, gave them a spirit of 
 patient endurance, honourable to the cause 
 they had espoused, and calculated to strengthen 
 the faith of those weaker brethren, who might 
 have been ready to yield when the enemy 
 approached their borders. They could say 
 with the Psalmist, "My soul is continually in 
 my hand, yet do I not forget thy law. The 
 wicked have laid a snare for me, yet I erred 
 not from thy precepts. I have inclined my 
 heart to perform thy statutes always, even 
 unto the end." 
 
 Very few instances of apostasy occurred 
 notwithstanding the severe measures adopted; 
 and the forest was crowded a second time with 
 fugitives, who sought a temporary shelter from 
 the fury of their enemies. The Migaults 
 trembled at what was passing around them, 
 and determined once more to quit Mougon, 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 73 
 
 and place themselves and their whole family 
 under the protection of Madame de la Bess- 
 iere, who had generously offered them her 
 chateau as an asylum. On the last day of 
 October, they decided to hold themselves in 
 readiness to set out in the course of the fol- 
 lowing night. Migault went into the country 
 to borrow a horse, on which they might carry 
 three of the younger children, who were una- 
 ble to walk so far, and his wife packed up 
 their scanty wardrobe, and made every pre- 
 paration for their departure. " It is indeed a 
 true aphorism," Migault remarks at this part 
 of his narrative: "It is indeed a true apho- 
 rism, that though man proposes, it is God 
 who disposes. He was pleased to frustrate 
 our project; and I hope we were preserved 
 from all impious and unavailing complaints." 
 The cur still bent on accomplishing the 
 ruin of his poor neighbours, advised the com- 
 mander of the troops in Thorigne to march 
 suddenly to Mougon, in order that he might 
 entrap the three Protestant families residing 
 there, without giving them time to make their 
 escape. Madame Migault was, with three of 
 her younger children, awaiting her husband's 
 
74 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 return) when she saw the soldiers enter at 
 both their gates. Taken thus by surprise, she 
 had only time to seize two of the children, and 
 escape through the private door, to which she 
 had before been indebted for her safety. The 
 kind ladies who had befriended her in the 
 former case, were not wanting in care and 
 attention now. They secreted her and her 
 two children in a corn-loft. The soldiers, 
 attended by the cure, searched for the Mi- 
 gaults in their own dwelling, and in the house 
 of their friends, without being able to discover 
 them. For some hours, Madame Migault 
 remained concealed in the loft, with her two 
 children, a prey to the most distressing anxi- 
 ety, and unable to ascertain the fate of her 
 husband and the rest of her family. The dear 
 little boy she had left in the house, she could 
 hear crying, as in great distress, and calling on 
 her for help. By and by his cries ceased; 
 and she afterwards found that, terrified by the 
 harsh treatment of the depredators, he stole 
 away into the garden, and endeavoured to 
 hide himself in an alley of evergreens, where 
 he was observed by a poor woman, who com- 
 passionately took him to her own home for 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 75 
 
 security. The mother of Madame Migault 
 was also in the house when the cavalry were 
 seen to approach. She sought refuge in a 
 neighbouring dwelling, and happily succeeded 
 in gathering round her four of the children, 
 who were wandering in the streets. 
 
 The soldiers seized on the packages of 
 clothing, and sold or bartered what they did 
 not want: they did the same by the beds, &c.; 
 and afterwards, with the assistance of a car- 
 penter, whom the cure had summoned to help 
 them, they destroyed every piece of furniture 
 which had not been sold, broke down the clo- 
 sets, and demolished all the windows and 
 doors, leaving the house a ruin. Madame 
 Migault was within hearing of this work of 
 destruction, being only separated from it by a 
 wall. The silence that followed, indicated 
 that her riotous assailants had departed. 
 
 In the course of the night, she ventured to 
 quit her place of concealment, and sought 
 refuge, for a short time^, with the worthy wo- 
 man who nursed her youngest child, then only 
 twelve weeks old. This dear infant she found 
 in a state which, under other circumstances, 
 would have absorbed all her feelings, and 
 
76 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 induced her to devote her whole time to the 
 little sufferer: it was evidently almost at its 
 last gasp. It was heart-breaking to turn away 
 from her dying infant, and not catch its last 
 sigh, and imprint the latest kiss on its cold 
 lips and pallid cheek: but the afflicted mother 
 did not forget that she had eleven other chil- 
 dren, who claimed a parent's care, and whose 
 lives she might, under God, be the means of 
 preserving. She felt it was not in her power 
 to do any thing to prolong his fleeting life, 
 which was ebbing fast away. She could only 
 commit him, with Christian submission, to the 
 keeping of that gracious Saviour who invites 
 these little ones to come unto him, and who 
 has given to the bereaved and mourning 
 parent the consoling assurance, that there is 
 place for them in the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 With an agonized heart, she forced herself 
 from her dying babe, confiding him to the ten- 
 der care of his sympathizing nurse, and has- 
 tened to the house of M. Champion, the Pro- 
 testant minister, hoping she might there hear 
 tidings of her husband. He, on his part, was 
 ignorant of this second occupation of his house, 
 until late in the evening; when, returning 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 77 
 
 homeward with the horse which he had gone 
 a considerable distance to borrow, he was met 
 by an acquaintance, who warned him not to 
 approach his house, as the soldiers were there 
 and searching for him. He dismounted from 
 the horse, and requesting his informant to 
 leave it at M. Champion's, he proceeded on 
 foot, accompanied by his faithful companion, 
 Dillot, who had resolved to assist them in 
 their endeavours to escape to the chateau of 
 Grand Breuil. Favoured by the darkness of 
 the evening, they stole unobserved to the 
 house of the nurse. From her, Migault learn- 
 ed that his wife was just gone from thence to 
 M. Champion's. He too could only gaze for 
 a few minutes on his suffering child, and kiss 
 the dying infant for the last time, ere he has- 
 tened to join his afflicted wife, at the house of 
 the minister. The poor babe expired in the 
 course of the night, but they never looked OR 
 it again.* They felt the necessity of remov- 
 
 * They were not acquainted with its death till four 
 days after. Judge of their feelings, when they were told 
 that the cure had done all he could to prevail on the hus- 
 band of the nurse, (a Papist,) not only to refuse a grave 
 to the innocent child, but even to throw its lifeless body 
 7* 
 
78 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 ing immediately from the neighbourhood. 
 Dillot and another person went in search of 
 the children, and returned with the two 
 eldest, and the little boy who had been ex- 
 posed to the rage of the soldiers. They set 
 out with this division of their family, as 
 speedily as they could, intending to travel 
 through the night. The mother was mounted 
 on the borrowed horse, carrying the little 
 Elizabeth in her arms; and Peter and Mary 
 were in panniers, placed across the back of 
 the animal: the two eldest walked with their 
 father. At midnight, they reached a farm- 
 house belonging to an acquaintance, where 
 they rested a few minutes, and then continued 
 their march, till they reached the chateau of 
 Grand Breuil. 
 
 To this hospitable retreat Dillot subsequent- 
 ly succeeded in conducting all the children, 
 
 to the dogs. Such savage barbarity is scarcely credible 
 but when the heart is once resigned to malevolent pas- 
 sions, it is impossible to say where it will stop. The man 
 withstood the instances of the cure, and consigned the 
 body of his little charge to the Protestant minister, by 
 whom it was interred in the burying-ground belonging to 
 his church. 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 79 
 
 one after another, and their grandmother; so 
 that they once more saw themselves assem- 
 bled under one roof. The soldiers were still 
 actively engaged, and the reports which the 
 inmates of the chateau received from the fugi- 
 tives, dispersed over the country, were not 
 such as to encourage any attempt to return to 
 Mougon. 
 
 With regard to Migault's private affairs, 
 speaking of those who had wronged him, by 
 unjustly detaining his property, he says: "I 
 forbear to mention their names, for I should 
 be sorry if my children bore them enmity. 
 The dishonest detention of my furniture and 
 apparel added very little to their wealth, 
 while it added nothing to their happiness. I 
 freely forgive them. They could not deprive 
 us of the true riches. We staked our souls 
 upon God's eternal truth, and felt assured, 
 that what he has promised he is willing to per- 
 form. He whose tender mercies are over all 
 his works, who feeds the ravens, and in whom 
 every believer may find a supply of all his 
 wants, did not desert us in our time of need. 
 When we quitted Mougon, doubtless we were 
 considered miserable outcasts, with scanty rai- 
 
80 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 ment, and without the means of procuring 
 food: yet there was no cold against which we 
 were not able to guard, and we felt no hunger 
 which we could not satisfy. Madame de la 
 Bessiere was no sooner informed that we had 
 made her chateau our place of refuge, than she 
 sent the keys, and insisted on our eating her 
 corn, drinking her wine, and burning her 
 wood. This exemplary Christian was thus 
 the means of preserving our lives, with all 
 their comforts/' Such is the meek and thank- 
 ful spirit exhibited by the narrator of these 
 trying scenes in his eventful life. 
 
 The persecution continued to rage during 
 the whole of November; and it was not until 
 near the close of December that they could, 
 with any hope of safety, think of returning to 
 Mougon. There was still danger in doing so; 
 but they felt the impropriety of trespassing on 
 the generosity of Madame de la Bessiere any 
 longer than was absolutely necessary. After 
 some consideration, they finally decided to 
 accept an invitation to Mauze, and relinquish 
 their home at Mougon altogether. They were 
 induced to take this step by the earnest impor- 
 tunities of two of their friends, whose sons had 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 81 
 
 been under Migault's care, and who were 
 again to become his pupils. The plan suc- 
 ceeded beyond their most sanguine expecta- 
 tions. No sooner were they established there, 
 than many of their former boarders, whom 
 they had been obliged to dismiss, returned to 
 them, and they had, beside, many applications 
 from day-scholars. They had now full em- 
 ployment, and ample earnings for the support 
 of their family: "and it pleased heaven," the 
 narrator adds, "to give us the hearts of all the 
 inhabitants." Thus they once more lifted up 
 their heads in hope, and went on their way 
 rejoicing. But another trial, of a different 
 nature from any of the foregoing, awaited the 
 reader of Moulle. 
 
 Little more than a year had elapsed from 
 the time of his settling at Mauz6 when his 
 beloved wife was taken from him by a fever, 
 after a few days' illness. " On Sunday, the 
 28th of February/' writes the afflicted hus- 
 band, "this dear saint resigned her happy 
 spirit into the hands of her Saviour." He 
 then expresses his thankfulness for the bless- 
 ings which were permitted to cheer the clos- 
 ing scenes of her life, and acknowledges the 
 
82 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 cause he has for gratitude, when he remem- 
 bers how peacefully her last days were passed, 
 as well as for the mercy shown to her, in that 
 she was taken thus early from the evil to 
 come. Many trials and afflictions awaited her 
 surviving family, from which she was spared. 
 A darker cloud than any they had before ex- 
 perienced, began now to lower around them. 
 Migault pursues his history in a mournful 
 strain: "The renewal of my troubles followed 
 closely the death of my wife. I never enjoy- 
 ed a day's peace in France afterwards:" 
 
 Only twelve days after this event, a law 
 was published, prohibiting all Protestant 
 schoolmasters from receiving boarders at their 
 houses. Under other circumstances, intelli- 
 gence like this would have been painfully felt. 
 It was, in fact, a death blow to Migault's pros- 
 perity; but his mind was so absorbed by grief 
 for the heavy loss he had recently sustained, 
 that he heard of this decree with perfect in- 
 difference. Guided by the advice of his 
 friend, the Protestant minister, who kindly 
 came to counsel him in this difficulty, he 
 placed his boarders at different hotels, and 
 waited to receive directions from the parents, 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 83 
 
 as to the plan it was their wish that he should 
 adopt. In a few days they came to visit their 
 children, and were so well pleased with his 
 arrangements, that they requested him to con- 
 tinue their education in the same manner as if 
 they were boarders. Other embarrassments 
 afterwards arose, which served to make his 
 path thorny and difficult, and must have been 
 the more painful to him to bear, now that he 
 could no longer take sweet counsel with her 
 who had been the sympathizing sharer of his 
 joys and his sorrows in past years. 
 
 She seems, by her firmness of character, to 
 have been peculiarly fitted to strengthen his 
 hands in the day of calamity. " She was in- 
 deed my help-meet upon all occasions," he 
 says; " but especially while the fiercest perse- 
 cutions raged around us. < This is grievous 
 to be borne,' she would say; <yet why should 
 we sorrow as those without hope? Depend 
 upon it, the shield of the Almighty is spread 
 over us, and nothing can happen but what in 
 mercy is designed for our benefit: though we 
 perceive it not now, yet we shall hereafter. 
 We love God, and God will not abandon 
 
84 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 A few months more elapsed, and the inha- 
 bitants of Mauze heard the unwelcome tid- 
 ings, that troops were in full march for the 
 province of Poitou, destined to complete the 
 ruin of those Protestant families who had not 
 fled the country or abjured, during the former 
 persecution. Nearly every Protestant church, 
 throughout the kingdom, was now either des- 
 troyed or interdicted, under various pretexts. 
 
 The church of Mauze was for a season 
 singularly protected from the storm. Her 
 Serene Highness, the Duchess of Lunenburg 
 and Zell, herself a pious Protestant, was the 
 means of shielding this place from the ravages 
 which laid waste so many other Protestant 
 districts. Her excellent brother, M. d'Ol- 
 breuze, resided in the neighbourhood, and 
 with him and the Protestant minister of 
 Mauze, M. de la Forest, she kept up a regular 
 correspondence. Warned by these friends, of 
 the evils which threatened them from time to 
 time, she made every effort to avert the blow, 
 using all her influence with the court of France 
 for this purpose, and even interceding with 
 the king himself, on behalf of those whose 
 cause she so warmly espoused. Mauz6, thus 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 85 
 
 favoured, became the centre of attraction to 
 the Protestants of Poitou and the neighbour- 
 ing provinces; a desired haven into which they 
 crowded, in order that they might enjoy the 
 public exercise of their religion, denied them 
 in so many other places. On Saturday even- 
 ing, the town became crowded to excess. The 
 private houses of the Protestants, the hotels, 
 and even the town-hall, were often filled with 
 persons who flocked in, from various places, 
 to pass the Sabbath with those of their breth- 
 ren who were assembled there. But, notwith- 
 standing the powerful interference of the 
 duchess, they were visited by many vexatious 
 and harassing circumstances, against which 
 they struggled, until the fatal decree of revo- 
 cation fell on their devoted heads, and left 
 the Protestants of France without resource. 
 "Migault had foreseen this stroke, and had 
 been induced to make every preparation in 
 his power for the event, by dismissing his 
 pupils, and sending away his children and 
 his mother-in-law to the houses of different 
 friends; so that when the cavalry entered 
 Mauze, on the 23d ^of September, 1685, he 
 was without any of his family near him. Two 
 8 
 
86 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 or three persons, who were making their 
 escape from some neighbouring place, were in 
 conversation with him, when the approach of 
 the soldiers gave them warning to fly, and 
 they all left the house as speedily as they 
 could. Migault and one of the party descend- 
 ed into the moat which surrounded the town, 
 (then dry,) and took the road to Amilly, meet- 
 ing on their way terrified women and helpless 
 children, who, like themselves, were seeking 
 safety in flight. Late in the evening, they 
 reached the chateau de Marsay, where they 
 were received and sheltered for two days. 
 From thence they proceeded to the house of 
 M. de Puyarnault, near St. Jean d'Angely, 
 where Migault had been kindly allowed to 
 send three of his children. But here the 
 fugitives remained only a few days. The 
 government had begun to station soldiers in 
 the houses of gentlemen suspected of favour- 
 ing the flight of the Protestants, and M. de 
 Puyarnault was daily expecting to have them 
 quartered on him. He was advised to pre- 
 pare for their arrival, by removing all valuable 
 property from under his roof, as no depend- 
 ence could be placed on persons who usually 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 87 
 
 acted more like freebooters and banditti than 
 regular troops. Under these circumstances, 
 Migault felt it prudent to remove his children 
 from a retreat which no longer promised 
 safety. Jane, eighteen years of age, and Peter 
 nine, he could make the companions of his 
 melancholy march; but what could he do with 
 Mary, a delicate little girl of seven, who was 
 unable to encounter the perils of their flight? 
 
 He decided, as his only remaining resource, 
 to send her, by the common carrier, (a Pa- 
 pist,) to M. de PAleigne's, where she might 
 be under the care of her grandmother, who 
 had been received there. Having adopted 
 this plan, which, perilous as it was, seemed 
 the only one left him to pursue, he set out 
 with Jane and Peter, and went first to the 
 house of M. d'Olbreuze. He did not venture 
 to remain more than a few hours there, be- 
 lieving that his presence would endanger the 
 liyes of four of his children, who were already 
 sheltered under that friendly roof. Taking 
 leave of these, he set out again with Jane and 
 Peter, and the next morning reached the house 
 of a friend, to whose care he thought they 
 might safely be confided. Here he left them, 
 
88 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 and then went forth again to hide his own 
 head where he could. The whole month of 
 October he wandered up and down the pro- 
 vince, concealing himself during the day, and 
 taking care never to remain more than forty- 
 eight hours in a place. So completely were 
 the paths of the Protestants beset with snares, 
 that it seems wonderful any should have 
 escaped. The cavalry were spread about 
 every where; and the hospitable and tender- 
 hearted among the Catholics, who were 
 thought likely to receive the persecuted, were 
 daily subject to domiciliary visits. It was 
 become very dangerous to give even tempo- 
 rary shelter to the fugitives, so that their near- 
 est relatives often scarcely dared to do it. At 
 length, after a month of painful wanderings, 
 Migault returned, in the night, to the hospi- 
 table mansion of M. d'Olbreuze, and for eight 
 days remained hidden in his grounds. After 
 this comparatively long rest, he renewed his 
 lonely wanderings, seeking, from time to time, 
 temporary rest at the houses of various friends, 
 where he gained ready admittance, provided 
 he came by night only, and was careful not to 
 be seen by any one but the inhabitants of the 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 89 
 
 dwelling. Thus the month of November 
 passed wearily away; and in the beginning of 
 December, it appeared necessary to remove 
 Jane and Peter from the asylum he had found 
 for them in October. The afflicted father 
 conducted them, first, to his often-visited place 
 of refuge, the house of M. d'Olbreuze, where 
 they lodged one night, and then accompanied 
 them to the chateau of M. de Marsay, which 
 had received him in his first flight from 
 Mauze. In two days, however, these chil- 
 dren were returned on his hands, at M. d'Ol- 
 breuze's, to which place he had gone back, 
 after leaving them at the chateau de Marsay. 
 Poor man! his heart seems to have been at 
 this time sinking within him, under the pres- 
 sure of accumulated sufferings. Indeed, his 
 situation, as he himself describes it, was truly 
 pitiable: "Hunted for three months, from 
 place to place, like a noxious animal, by 
 cavalry, priests, and lay Papists, at enmity 
 with me, and agitated the whole time with 
 distressing anxiety for my poor children." 
 He was now in the utmost perplexity, not 
 knowing where to hide his own head, or 
 
90 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 where to find a place for these two dear mem- 
 bers of his family. 
 
 In this emergency, a Roman Catholic friend 
 took Jane under his protection for eight days; 
 and when he durst keep her no longer, he 
 complied with her father's earnest entreaties, 
 that he would conduct her to some relatives, 
 who resided at Croizette, near Niort. Here 
 she continued a fortnight, and would have 
 remained longer, had not some person given 
 information to the captain of a troop of cavalry 
 in the neighbourhood, that she was concealed 
 in the house. Two dragoons were instantly 
 despatched to search for her, which they did 
 with great insolence, ransacking every place, 
 destroying furniture, and treating the owners 
 of the house with violence. The terrified girl 
 fled at their approach, and concealing herself in 
 a neighbouring wood, remained there in safety 
 during the night; but when day dawned, fan- 
 cying her hiding-place insecure, she stole back 
 to the court-yard, and concealed herself in a 
 heap of straw. In the morning the soldiers 
 renewed their search, and the poor girl was 
 discovered, and dragged, with brutal harsh- 
 ness before the Catholic minister of the parish. 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 91 
 
 She had the firmness to withstand all the 
 menaces and arguments which were used ta 
 induce her to apostatize from her faith. The 
 act of abjuration was placed before her to sign, 
 and violence was added to threats to force her 
 to comply, but in vain. He who maketh his 
 strength often appear the most manifest in the 
 weakest of his creatures, gave this young girl 
 firmness and energy suited to her trial. She 
 remained inflexible; and when the priest, who, 
 was resolved to make it appear that he had 
 converted her, wrote under the pretended act, 
 that she did not sign it because she could not 
 write, she undauntedly protested against the 
 falsehood, and declared that she knew very 
 well how to write, but refused to do so because 
 she was firmly resolved never to renounce her 
 creed, or sign her name to an act of abjuration. 
 How she was set at liberty does not appear; 
 but two days after, a benevolent man had the 
 kindness to conduct her to her father, at M. 
 d'Olbreuze's. This good man's house seems, 
 as Migault observes, to have been their head- 
 quarters; nor was this the only party that 
 found refuge there. All who asked, received 
 aid as long as it was possible to give it. Fugi- 
 
92 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 lives from different provinces were received 
 there: they needed but to plead their misery 
 to gain admittance. It was enough that they 
 were objects of tyranny and oppression, to 
 insure them every hospitable attention. Not 
 only the chateau, but the corn-lofts, barns, 
 and out-houses, were filled by persons of all 
 ranks, from Saintonge, Aunix, and Poitou, 
 who were generously supplied with every 
 thing necessary to their support and comfort. 
 M. and Madame de PAleigne manifested the 
 same courageous and munificent hospitality. 
 Their mansion became likewise the refuge of 
 the distressed, and was crowded with Pro- 
 testants of every age and degree. These bene- 
 volent persons were threatened with visits 
 from the military, but they still persevered in 
 their plans. Their high station, and their 
 connexion with the Duchess of Brunswick, 
 preserved them awhile from the threatened 
 interruption. Of all the residences of the 
 Protestant nobility in Aunix, Poitou, and 
 Saintonge, the houses of M. d'Olbreuze and 
 M. de 1'Aleigne alone remained unpillaged. 
 At length the blow came, and no obnoxious 
 person was any longer left unmolested. The 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 93 
 
 nobles friendly to the Protestant cause, were 
 forced to fly, or risk imprisonment by lettres 
 du petit-catchet. In November, M. de 
 PAleigne was consigned, by one of these 
 instruments, to the common gaol at Loches; 
 and in December, M. d'Olbreuze was com- 
 pelled, by a command from the king, to repair 
 to Paris, and remain in attendance at court, 
 until further orders. Still Migault and three 
 of his children were suffered to remain at the 
 chateau with Madame d'Olbreuze, where they 
 passed for domestics. But now an order was 
 issued, forbidding all Protestants to have any 
 but Roman Catholic servants; and Madame 
 d'Olbreuze and Madame de PAleigne were 
 reluctantly obliged to submit to this regula- 
 tion. Poor Migault knew not where to fly. 
 In addition to his troubles, Jane was returned 
 to him from Croizette; John, the second son, 
 had been driven from his retreat, by the same 
 decree which rendered it impossible for the 
 others to remain at Madame d'Olbreuze's, and 
 the mother-in-law and little Mary had, of 
 course, been obliged at the same time, to quit 
 Madame de PAleigne's. 
 
 He had now seven of his children unpro- 
 
94 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 vided for, and himself again without a hiding- 
 place. He acknowledges, with shame and 
 self-reproach, the afflicting state of despon- 
 dency into which he was thrown by these 
 distressing circumstances. After many diffi- 
 culties, in seeking such temporary shelter as 
 he could obtain for those so dear to him, a ray 
 of hope again dawned upon him, and he 
 thought he saw means by which he might 
 send his two sons, John and Philemon, out of 
 the country, embarking them at Rochelle, for 
 Holland. 
 
 For this purpose, he went to Rochelle. 
 There he was arrested, taken before the go- 
 vernor, and after a severe examination, was 
 drawn into the sinful act of compliance he had 
 so long withstood, and signed the act of abju- 
 ration. We know not what arts of refined 
 cruelty were exercised, to urge this firm and 
 sincere Protestant into the snare in which so 
 many had been entangled; for, -at this part of 
 his narrative, four pages in the original manu- 
 script are torn out, leaving one of the most 
 interesting scenes of his life a blank. It only 
 appears that he signed the formal renunciation 
 of his faith, and was then set at liberty. But 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 95 
 
 the freedom thus gained was felt to be dearly 
 earned. Oppressed with the anguish of a 
 wounded spirit, he went forth to encounter 
 the ills of life, with feelings such as had never 
 before weighed down his heart. The state of 
 his mind, under these circumstances, is best 
 described in his own words, as he addresses 
 them to his chidren, commencing with a 
 prayer to that gracious God, against whom he 
 had so deeply sinned: "Notwithstanding the 
 heinousness of our transgressions, thou hast 
 promised, Heavenly Father, to have mercy 
 upon us, and abundantly to pardon. I indulge 
 the humble and confident hope, that thou 
 despisest not my broken and contrite heart. 
 Thou wilt thoroughly wash me from my ini- 
 quity, and cleanse me from my sin. 
 
 " Upon leaving the prison, I was conducted 
 by an officer to the convent of Oratory; and 
 there it was I basely put my hand to a paper 
 which they presented for my signature. I 
 did not read it, but could entertain no doubt 
 of its purport. The fears for my own safety, 
 and apprehensions about my family, that agi- 
 tated my mind, suggested plausible reasons 
 why I might innocently sign: but no sooner 
 
96 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 did my guards disappear, and I regain my 
 liberty, than I despised the sophistry by 
 which I had been betrayed, and contemplated 
 my sin in all its blackness and deformity. 
 One of my friends, whom I met on quitting 
 the town, observing the distraction of my 
 mind, persuaded me to accompany him to his 
 house. He endeavoured to allay the agitation 
 of my spirits, pointing out those passages of 
 scripture from which I might derive comfort. 
 I left him the same afternoon, intending, by 
 walking all night, to arrive at Mauze, the 
 next morning. 
 
 " I can but faintly describe the shame and 
 sorrow I endured while at Mauz6. I endea- 
 voured to pray, but could not give utterance 
 to the feelings by which I was oppressed. It 
 pleased God to hide the light of his counte- 
 nance, and I seemed abandoned to my own 
 reflections, which had nigh driven me to des- 
 pair. The congratulations of my friends, on 
 my release from prison, increased the poig- 
 nancy of my remorse: their kind expressions 
 were so many blows upon my heart: they 
 produced the effect of the keenest reproach^ 
 es; and it appeared to me that no criminal 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 97 
 
 was ever before tormented by so many accu- 
 sers. 
 
 " I could not avoid calling upon Madame 
 d'Olbreuze, my kind benefactress; but it was 
 long before I summoned sufficient resolution. 
 That lady, I knew, received with tenderness 
 many persons in my unhappy predicament; 
 yet there was no one of whom this faithful 
 disciple of Christ entertained a more favoura- 
 ble opinion, and who had so bitterly disap- 
 pointed her expectations. At length, I soli- 
 cited permission to pay my respects, and it 
 was immediately granted. 
 
 " On entering the room, I found Madame 
 d'Olbreuze surrounded by several unmarried 
 ladies, who some weeks before had placed 
 themselves under her protection. Oh! my 
 children, guard against the first approaches of 
 sin; and may you never have cause to stand 
 abashed and confounded in the presence of 
 your fellow-mortals, in the same manner as 
 your poor father did upon this distressing 
 occasion. For a considerable time I was mo- 
 tionless; my heart beat violently, and I was 
 happily relieved by a flood of tears. Nothing 
 could be more kind and considerate than the 
 9 
 
98 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 language of this little company of Christians. 
 They dilated indeed upon the enormity of my 
 sin, but encouraged me to hope for pardon: 
 they adduced the instances of Peter who 
 denied, and of the disciples who abandoned 
 the Saviour; my repentance appeared as deep 
 as theirs, and they doubted not my forgiveness 
 was as complete. 
 
 " I hope always to retain a grateful recol- 
 lection of the behaviour of these ladies. One 
 of them composed a prayer suited to my case, 
 a copy of which I have preserved. I distri- 
 buted this prayer among many Protestants, 
 who were deploring the same guilt as myself, 
 and there is reason to believe it was eminently 
 blessed. 
 
 " I was rescued, by the tender mercy of my 
 God, from the frightful dangers into which 
 my folly had precipitated me; and was con- 
 soled for all my sufferings, when I found that 
 nine of you, my dear children, remained faith- 
 ful to his word, and appeared devoted to his 
 service." 
 
 After these events, nearly a year seems to 
 have elapsed, marked by many distressing cir- 
 cumstances: not the least afflicting, was the 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 99 
 
 bad conduct of John Migault. the second son, 
 who was a source of great uneasiness to his 
 father. The rest of his children seem to have 
 been particularly dutiful, and well conducted. 
 During this period, Migault had the comfort 
 of hearing that three of his sons, James, 
 Gabriel, and Philemon, had been able to fol- 
 low in the train of families of their friends, 
 and make their escape from a country where 
 nothing but sorrow and oppression seemed to 
 await them. James was at Amsterdam, Ga- 
 briel and Philemon in Germany; the former 
 with M. de la Forest, the latter with M. and 
 Madame d'Olbreuze, who had obtained the 
 king's permission to quit the kingdom, and 
 generously offered to take Philemon with 
 them, and make his welfare their peculiar 
 care. 
 
 John, the sad source of anguish to his father, 
 had also left the kingdom, and was gone to 
 the West Indies; and his neglect of his only 
 parent, to whom he had not once written 
 since his departure, seemed to weigh heavily 
 on his father's heart. Still his cares were sen- 
 sibly lessened, by the knowledge that four of 
 his children were beyond the reach of perse- 
 
100 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 cution; and he now began, once more, to 
 devise plans for removing the rest of his 
 family to Holland. Towards the close of 
 1687, after many disappointments,, he found 
 means to engage a passage for himself and 
 his children, in a vessel about to sail from 
 Rochelle. His family, however, was then at 
 Grand Breuil, where it appears the benevo- 
 lent Madame de la Bessiere still ventured to 
 receive them. The perplexity he now had to 
 encounter, arose from the difficulty there was 
 in conveying his family to Rochelle without 
 observation. After hiring one carriage, in 
 readiness for the nocturnal journey, and pay- 
 ing the voiturier a high price in advance, the 
 man failed him, and never made his appear- 
 ance. After much trouble, he succeeded in 
 engaging another conveyance, at an enormous 
 price; and in the middle of a bitterly cold 
 December night, he commenced his perilous 
 journey with his children. In quitting Grand 
 Breuil, they had the affliction of parting from 
 their excellent grandmother, who though full 
 of grief at the thought of being separated from 
 these, the dearest objects on earth, had not 
 courage, at her age, to emigrate with them, as 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 101 
 
 Migault had earnestly .entreated ;her to do. 
 After a night of dangers', they reached d'Am- 
 pierre, where they Jo,d^d, jThe next uay 
 they providentially found an asylum at La 
 Bugaudiere, two miles from Rochelle, in the 
 house of a remote relative, who, unknown to 
 them, had removed to that place some time 
 before. He generously received the youthful 
 party, and retained them under his protection 
 till the middle of January, when the wind, 
 which had been all this time unfavourable, 
 changed to a good quarter, and the 16th of the 
 month was fixed as the day of embarkation. 
 
 The place appointed for rendezvous, was a 
 small house on the beach, near the noble man- 
 sion of Pampin, and a league distant from 
 Rochelle. Here the captain agreed to take in 
 the passengers under shelter of the darkness. 
 It was not without danger and difficulty that 
 the various parties found their way to the spot 
 during the night. A few, indeed, lost their 
 way, and did not arrive till too late; but 
 seventy-five people were assembled, awaiting 
 with impatience the moment of embarkation. 
 The generous-minded man who had been the 
 principal means of making all these arrange- 
 9* 
 
102 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 ments for vhe-pcvor fugitives, came to meet 
 them, and superintend the midnight embarka- 
 tion. II? suggested, that they should agree 
 to enter the boat in rotation, according to the 
 lot drawn by each family, and then it might 
 be regularly filled, without being over laden, 
 and no confusion would arise to embarrass 
 their movements, or retard their departure. 
 
 Hitherto all had gone on favourably. Mi- 
 gault and Jiis children, with some others, 
 waited in the house, and the rest of the emi- 
 grants on the beach, for the arrival of the boat; 
 when suddenly loud cries were heard. At 
 first the sounds were thought to proceed from 
 the sailors, for whose presence they were so 
 anxious; and then they were filled with con- 
 sternation, under the apprehension that it was 
 the military coming down on them. Incredi- 
 ble as it may appear under such appalling cir- 
 cumstances, it afterwards proved to be a mere 
 idle frolic, played off by some who were 
 waiting to embark. The cries were meant to 
 imitate soldiers seizing on objects of pursuit; 
 and the name of the generous superintendent 
 of the embarkation was repeatedly vocifera- 
 ted. The penalty of death had, by a recent 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 103 
 
 decree, been fixed as the punishment of those 
 who aided the escape of the Protestants: this 
 good man, therefore, might well partake in 
 the panic which began to spread: hastening 
 to the house, he exclaimed, " The guards 
 are on the beach, save yourselves," and then 
 fled. Some followed him in his flight, but 
 the greater proportion remained behind; for 
 the authors of the frolic, seeing the mischief 
 they had done, hastened to assure, those who 
 had taken the alarm, that it was unfounded. 
 They succeeded in quieting the fears of those 
 around them: but, in the darkness of the 
 night, it was impossible to trace the steps of 
 their benefactor and those who had followed 
 him. In about a quarter of an hour the arri- 
 val of the boat was announced: every one 
 hastened to embark; and their kind superin- 
 tendent not being there to regulate their plans, 
 the greatest confusion prevailed. Through 
 the obscurity of the night, Migault and his 
 party, including a Mademoiselle de Choisy, 
 whom he had under his care, lost their way, 
 and did not reach the boat until it was just 
 putting to sea, with thirty-five persons in it. 
 The remainder were therefore obliged to wait 
 
104 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 for another trip. Oppressed with anxiety, 
 fatigue, and cold, they kept a painful watch, 
 during the long interval which elapsed before 
 the boat returned; and when it came, it 
 brought no hope for Migault's party; for, in- 
 stead of touching at the same part of the shore 
 as before, it was taken to a creek, a hundred 
 and fifty yards distant from the rock on which 
 they had remained stationed from the time it 
 went off with the first party. The moment 
 the cries of the sailors were heard, every per- 
 son hastened to the spot whence the voices 
 proceeded. The most active and least encum- 
 bered, especially those who had none but 
 themselves to care for, gained the boat first; 
 and when twenty-five had entered, the mari- 
 ners pushed off, declaring they would take no 
 more, as they were nearly swamped by their 
 load the first time, but they would return a 
 third time and take the remainder. Alas! it 
 soon became evident to those now left behind, 
 that their passage was lost. Day dawned be- 
 fore the boat could well have reached the ves- 
 sel, and the dispirited group discerned two 
 launches belonging to the guard-boats of Ro- 
 chelle, which had been established since the 
 
JEAN MJGAULT. 105 
 
 revocation, to frustrate if possible, all plans for 
 emigration in that port. The kind friend to 
 whom the refugees were so much indebted, 
 had employed persons to inspect a long line 
 of coast, and observe if any part was left un- 
 guarded. That part appointed for the place 
 of embarkation was alone found free; and had 
 the return of the boat for the second party 
 been deferred one half hour, that too would 
 have been blocked up. Thus was a merciful 
 providence manifested in favour of those who 
 escaped during that eventful night, from a 
 land where persecution had left them no rest- 
 ing-place. How keenly the disappointment 
 was felt by those who failed in the attempt, 
 and with what Christian patience it was borne, 
 Migault's own words will show: " Our situa- 
 tion," he observes, " was become very awful. 
 As we saw guards at sea, so we might reason- 
 ably expect to meet with guards on land. The 
 trepidation that seized the whole party was 
 excessive. We knew the unbending severity 
 of the governor of Rochelle, and many fancied 
 themselves already in his power. My dan- 
 ger was, beyond all comparison, the most im- 
 minent. My companions were unmarried, 
 
106 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 and could easily disperse, or conceal them- 
 selves, according to circumstances: but I had 
 six children, whom I could not abandon, and 
 three of them incapable of walking. The 
 house of our benevolent host, at La Bugau- 
 diere, was the only one I could venture to 
 enter, and it could be reached only by passing 
 under the walls of Rochelle. Nor was I by 
 any means certain that my horse was now in 
 a condition to travel; the poor animal having 
 remained the whole of this dreadful night on 
 the shingles, apparently without sense or mo- 
 tion. I believe I may say, that at no period 
 of my life was my faith in more active exer- 
 cise. Many precious promises presented 
 themselves to my mind; some of which, 
 though they then appeared familiar to my 
 memory, had not before formed the subject of 
 my contemplation. One passage wonderfully 
 supported me: ' The angel of the Lord encamp- 
 eth round about them that fear him, and deliv- 
 ereth them.' I so meditated on these words, 
 that my fears were completely overcome. I 
 shall certainly be delivered I said, and it mat- 
 ters not therefore, in what way. My Heavenly 
 Father knows the mode which is best suited to 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 107 
 
 my individual case. Whether I escape from 
 the hands of the governor of Rochelle, or fall 
 into his power, I shall be equally delivered in 
 God's good time. I will not agitate myself 
 with sinful fears: while- 1 employ every faculty 
 of body and mind to avoid molestation, I will 
 cast all my cares upon 
 
 * The simplicity with which Migault tells the story of 
 his life, and makes confession of his errors, is touchingly 
 exhibited in a little anecdote he introduces at this part of 
 his history, and on which he comments with equal piety 
 and good sense. 
 
 " I do not wish to pass unnoticed a little anecdote that 
 you have heard me relate. When we were leaving La 
 Bugaudiere, little Oliver, in his insinuating and affection- 
 ate manner, asked : ' Where are we going papa ?' My 
 heart was full, and to avoid the necessity of any explana- 
 tion, I said : " We are going to our house at Moulle, my 
 child.' In the morning, the little fellow finding himself 
 on the beach, surrounded by the sea and rocks, said: 
 
 * Are we in our house, papa ?' ' Yes,' I hastily answered. 
 
 * Then our house has tumbled down papa ?' I attach no 
 other importance to this anecdote than the evil effects 
 which the untruths I unguardedly uttered might produce 
 on my children, if I did not solemnly express sorrow for 
 having departed, upon this occasion, from those rigid and 
 universal rules of veracity that ought to govern every 
 head of a family. The world are not generally aware how 
 imperceptibly the character of a child is formed. The 
 
108 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 Migault was told, that among those who 
 had obtained seats in the first boat, was 
 Madame de Choisy. Mademoiselle de Choisy, 
 therefore, who had been separated from her 
 mother during the confusion occasioned by 
 the false alarm before mentioned, now believ- 
 ed that they were parted without any hope of 
 meeting again, and was in a state of the great- 
 est distress. The good Migault could only 
 promise to take charge of her, and lend her 
 what help he could. The mournful party 
 now turned away from the beach, accompa- 
 nied by the faithful Dillot, who was always in 
 attendance on>them, and gave them all the as- 
 sistance in his power. They were soon met 
 by a person, who came in search of Made- 
 moiselle de Choisy. Her mother had not 
 embarked, but was in vain seeking for her 
 
 minute incidents that constitute the history of infancy, 
 may be pregnant with important consequences on the 
 future life : and if we could always trace effects to their 
 causes, I doubt not, it would be found that the moral tur- 
 pitude of mankind frequently grows out of such aberra- 
 tions from truth, as in the instance under review, on the 
 part of parents, whom children have been accustomed to 
 venerate, and by whose example they have regulated their 
 own conduct." 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 109 
 
 daughter, and almost distracted with the idea 
 that, in the confusion, she might have gone on 
 board and sailed, not only without her mother, 
 but without any other protector. Nor was this 
 fear unreasonable; for as the embarkations al- 
 ways took place in the night, such circumstan- 
 ces were often occurring. Wives were separa- 
 ted from husbands, and parents from children, 
 frequently to meet no more; those who were 
 left behind too often falling into the hands of 
 their enemies, and either losing their lives, or 
 languishing for years in prison. 
 
 Migault resigned the charge of this young 
 lady, and proceeded with his own children to 
 LaBugaudiere, where they were again hospi- 
 tably received. They felt very thankful, that 
 though they had failed to effect their much 
 desired departure, they had been permitted to 
 return to their hiding-place without any dis- 
 covery of their frustrated plans. The whole 
 party were so happy as to retire from the 
 place of rendezvous without attracting any 
 attention. 
 
 The next day Migault went to Rochelle, 
 and found Mademoiselle de Choisy safely 
 returned to her mother. He records the fol- 
 10 
 
HO JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 lowing pleasing notice of the evening he pass- 
 ed at Madame de Choisy's, with several, who, 
 like himself, had been obliged to return disap- 
 pointed from the water-side. " We spent a 
 delightful evening. Of course every one talked 
 of his own particular adventure. I may safely 
 assert, that there was not that evening, through- 
 out France, a happier fire-side. Certainly it 
 could not have been found in the king's pa- 
 lace, nor in the houses of those who were 
 accessary to this horrible persecution. No 
 one appeared mortified or disappointed; on 
 the contrary, it was universally felt, that there 
 was abundant cause for thankfulness and praise. 
 Every heart seemed turned unto God, as the 
 heart of one man. We could not, indeed, 
 deny the dangers incurred, and the sufferings 
 endured; but the remembrance of them only 
 increased our gratitude and love to Him to 
 whom alone we owed our deliverance. The 
 evening was employed in serious conversation 
 and fervent prayer. We considered that the 
 Almighty had given us an earnest of his spe- 
 cial providence; and feeling that he was on 
 our side, and that we ought not, therefore, to 
 fear what man can do unto us, we determined 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. HI 
 
 to persevere in our efforts to abandon our 
 unhappy country. " 
 
 Disappointment received in this spirit must 
 have been a blessing. No affliction " for the 
 present seemeth joyous, but grievous; never- 
 theless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable 
 fruits of righteousness, to them which are 
 exercised thereby." 
 
 It was not until April, that Migault' s un- 
 wearied endeavours to escape, with his family, 
 were crowned with success. He then, through 
 the same kind friend who had assisted him 
 before, found means to make the needful 
 arrangements, and once more prepared to de- 
 part. One child, his beloved and excellent 
 Jane, he was under- the necessity of leaving 
 behind, though with a strong confidence that 
 she would be soon permitted to follow them. 
 The rest assembled, with him and other emi- 
 grants, at their former rendezvous, the cha- 
 teau of Pampin. They had been obliged to 
 come in two parties, and an intelligent lad 
 had undertaken to be the guide of Anne 
 Migault, (the eldest daughter,) and the chil- 
 dren left under her charge. He conducted 
 them safely to a place near the house, where 
 
112 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 they waited till Migault and the rest of the 
 party arrived. Then, instead of parting from 
 them, the young guide besought them to allow 
 him to bear them company to a foreign shore. 
 " I entreat you, sir," he said, " to take me 
 along with you. If you will pay my passage, 
 I shall be no further charge. I have long 
 been agitated by the desire to escape into any 
 country, where I may worship God in spirit 
 and in truth; but I did not dare to inform my 
 father and mother of the wish. Oh! do, pray 
 sir, take me with you. It is promised, ' Seek 
 ye first the kingdom of God and his righte- 
 ousness, and all other things shall be given.' 
 Now, sir, I am not afraid but that the Al- 
 mighty will provide for me, because it is in 
 search of his kingdom and righteousness I am 
 going abroad. I wish to sit under the minis- 
 try of such men as M. Perault" 
 
 The earnest entreaties of this poor lad were 
 not poured into ears unheedful of such plead- 
 ings; and he was promised, that if the boat 
 which was to convey them to the vessel was 
 sufficiently large to admit him in addition, his 
 wish should be granted. 
 
 The whole of the company soon arrived, 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 113 
 
 and in good time effected their embarkation, 
 without interruption. This happy deliverance 
 occurred on Easier Monday, 1688; a day of 
 rejoicing indeed to these poor afflicted people. 
 Their passage was long and tempestuous; and 
 it was not until the nineteenth day after they 
 sailed, that the vessel reached Brille, in Hol- 
 land. From thence they went to Rotterdam; 
 and the next day, being Sunday, they all 
 repaired, with hearts overflowing with grati- 
 tude, to the French church in that place. 
 There they united in offering up devout 
 praises for their deliverance, and listened, 
 with elevated and solemn feelings, to the word 
 of instruction, preached by M. Jurieu. 
 
 The Wednesday following, they again at- 
 tended divine service; and after hearing an 
 appropriate discourse from M. Gilbert, those 
 among them who had been induced to sign 
 acts of abjuration, made public confession of 
 their sin in this matter, in the presence of that 
 God against whom they had so deeply sinned, 
 and before the whole church. 
 
 Thus was the era of their deliverance fitly 
 marked, by a spirit of prayer and praise a 
 spirit of humble contrition and rejoicing grati- 
 10* 
 
114 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 tude, to Him who had delivered them from 
 going down to the pit, and who had truly 
 "brought them out of the miry clay," and 
 " set their feet upon a rock, and put a new 
 song into their mouth, even praises unto our 
 God." 
 
 In a few weeks Migault was settled at Am- 
 sterdam. His beloved Jane had joined the 
 party after a prosperous voyage, and many 
 favourable circumstances marked his lot. The 
 good man thus closes his narrative: "I have 
 now been seventeen months in Holland, sur- 
 rounded by the major part of my family, and 
 in the enjoyment of every spiritual blessing. 
 I might safely add, that every temporal bless- 
 ing was also vouchsafed to me, if your brother 
 were reclaimed, and your grandmother under 
 our roof. Gabriel pursues his vacation with 
 industry and profit; and the amiable character 
 of Philemon, has obtained the approbation, 
 and secured the patronage of M. and Madame 
 d'Olbreuze. Oh! my beloved children, join 
 me in endless praises to the gracious Being 
 who has thus crowned us with loving kind- 
 ness and tender mercy The love of God is, 
 you know, generally the theme of our conver- 
 
JEAN MIGAULT. 115 
 
 sation, and I wish it to be one of the promi- 
 nent subjects of my narrative. It is the best 
 and most important, concerning which the 
 thoughts of an intellectual creature can be 
 exercised. Other gifts and graces, whether 
 intellectual or moral, come indeed from hea- 
 ven, but they often leave us upon earth. Love 
 alone elevates us thither, and is able to unite 
 us to God." 
 
 Such are the annals of one persecuted 
 family. They contain none of those details of 
 horrible and excessive cruelty, in which the 
 records of a persecuting age abound: but per- 
 secution, under its mildest aspect, is sufficiently 
 revolting. This simple narrative of the suf- 
 ferings of one individual and his family, which 
 enables us to trace their steps from day to 
 day, and to watch the progress of their sor- 
 rows, will, perhaps, give us a more lively 
 sense of the troubles of the persecuted, than 
 many of the more appalling, but less detailed 
 histories of the times. The original manu- 
 script of Migault's memoir, was found, a few 
 years ago, in the possession of a poor inhabi- 
 tant of Spitalfields, a lineal descendant of the 
 writer. This man, in the course of conversa- 
 
116 JEAN MIGAULT. 
 
 tion with a member of the Spitalfields Bene- 
 volent Society, happened to mention that his 
 family had been compelled to emigrate to a 
 foreign country, by the Revocation of the 
 Edict of Nantes, and produced this manuscript 
 as a proof of the correctness of his statement. 
 A circumstance which has been so often 
 feigned, to give additional interest to some 
 fictitious narrative, has, in this case, really 
 occurred; and a manuscript which had rested 
 a century in the recesses of the family cabinet, 
 has been at length brought to light by some 
 passing event, and presented to the notice of 
 the public. 
 
117 
 
 M. LE FEVRE, 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 
 
 WE have spoken of the frequent condemnation 
 of the Protestants to the galleys. This was. a 
 most afflicting lot, in which much was added 
 to the usual miseries of captivity. The blas- 
 phemies of the degraded beings by whom 
 these good men were surrounded, was far from 
 being the lightest of the evils they had to 
 endure. The prophet Ezekiel's magnificent 
 description of the navy of Tyre, comes before 
 us in fearful contrast to the horrors of these 
 galley-fleets, as described by an eye-witness. 
 (See Appendix, Note 2.) The "benches of 
 ivory from the isles of Chittim," the " sails of 
 fine linen with broidered work from Egypt," 
 and all the luxurious appointments of Tyre, in 
 her glory, were not there; but it might be 
 truly said of them, as of Tyre, in the day of 
 her calamity: "All they that handle the oar 
 shall cry bitterly;" "they shall make them- 
 
118 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 selves bald, and gird themselves with sack- 
 cloth, and weep with bitterness of heart, and 
 bitter wailing." Ezek. xxvii. 31, &c. 
 
 One of the most touching details of the suf- 
 ferings of those who have been condemned to 
 the galleys, is to be found in the memoirs 
 drawn up of the life and death of M. Le Fe- 
 vre. A counsellor by profession, well con- 
 nected, and possessed of almost every thing 
 which could make life pleasant to him, he was 
 arrested in his thirty-seventh year, on account 
 of his religion; and bore, for sixteen years, 
 the hard yoke of a cruel bondage, with unre- 
 pining submission to the will of God; taking 
 joyfully his sufferings, and after the manner of 
 the apostle, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tri- 
 bulation, continuing instant in prayer." It is 
 from his letters to various friends that the 
 materials of this narrative will be chiefly 
 drawn. It appears that he was born at Chatel 
 Chinon, in Nivernois, of honourable parents, 
 and one of the most considerable families in 
 that province. The pious and affectionate 
 strain in which he speaks of his departed 
 parents, interests us in his favour. It is thus 
 he writes to one of his friends: 
 
PRISONER OP THE GALLEYS. U9 
 
 " The great God hath been mindful of his 
 promises in favour of the children of those 
 that fear him. My father and mother were of 
 the number; and having Walked before him in 
 Christian simplicity, died both in a good old 
 age, in communion with the true church. 
 My mother, God took to himself by times; 
 but I know her piety was exemplary, and her 
 life edifying. You know what was the pro- 
 bity, the zeal, and the patience of my deceased 
 father. I cannot mention him without emo- 
 tion; but his memory is too dear to me to pass 
 it over in silence. You visited him on his 
 death-bed, or rather on his bed of life; and I 
 remember that, on coming away, you gave 
 this testimony: 1 1 came to edify and comfort 
 a sick person, but he has edified and comforted 
 me/ Such you saw him then, and such he 
 was through the whole course of his sickness, 
 which was very long, and very severe. Re- 
 signed, patient, and always willing to give up 
 his soul into the hands of his God. He was 
 naturally hasty and passionate; but the grace 
 of God raised him so much above himself, 
 that it made him the most patient man in the 
 world, in the most intense and violent pains, 
 
120 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 I praise God, the God of my fathers, for the 
 spirit of meekness wherewith he endued his 
 servant, and for the internal piety with which 
 he inspired him: and as long as I live, I shall 
 bless the Lord God of the spirits of all flesh, 
 who granted me the favour to be present 
 when he took the soul of his servant to him- 
 self, and when he put these words into my 
 mouth, ' Lord Jesus receive his spirit into thy 
 hands I 9 May the blessed Jesus put them 
 again into my heart and mouth, at the last 
 moment of my life; and say himself unto my 
 soul, ' Eater thou into the joy of thy Lord: I 
 am thy Saviour. ' ' 
 
 M. Le Fevre, after studying at Geneva and 
 at Orleans, where he took his degree, repaired 
 to Paris. The testimonials he brought with 
 him recommended him to the notice of the 
 advocate-general, who admitted him as one of 
 the advocates of the court of parliament. But 
 scarcely was he entered on a career so favour- 
 able to his wishes, when the Edict of Nantes 
 was revoked. He was compelled to seek 
 safety by flight; but in vain. Arrested and 
 tried at Besangon, he was condemned to the 
 galleys. From Besangon he was conducted, 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 121 
 
 first, to Dijon, where he arrived May 30, 
 1686. From the prisons of Dijon he wrote 
 to a friend, describing the hardships of his 
 journey to this new house of bondage, and the 
 sufferings it subsequently occasioned. " I 
 am/' he says, " as it were, impotent. I suffer 
 great pains all over my body; and if it had 
 not been for the comfort that the Lord sent 
 me at Ausonne, they would not have brought 
 me alive to Dijon. My irons were taken off 
 at Ausonne, and I was set on horseback; 
 whereas I was before in the waggon, in a 
 distressing posture, and pressed on all sides. 
 But whatever happens to us, we put our trust 
 in God; we hope in him only. I have had 
 some fits of ague, more violent than ever; but 
 God will not forsake me." He was advised 
 to present a petition to the intendant, in order 
 that, if possible, some relief might be obtained 
 for him, when he should be attached to the 
 chain, to proceed with other prisoners to the 
 galley-station. But he declined doing so, 
 observing, that if he should be favoured more 
 than others, which he believed would not be 
 the case, it would be cowardice in him to 
 shrink back from the burden which others 
 11 
 
122 M. JLE FEVRE, THE 
 
 were bearing. " We do not fear," he said, 
 " all the preparations they threaten us with, 
 and which we cannot avoid, without a mira- 
 cle: we wait for it all. The sight of a passion- 
 ate deputy, and a troop of inhuman guards, 
 will be nothing frightful to us. That which 
 troubles me most, is the blasphemies of the 
 wicked wretches with whom we shall be 
 coupled." 
 
 We may here observe, that the convicts in 
 France then, as in the present day, were con- 
 ducted to their place of destination, not only 
 manacled and coupled together, as in England, 
 but beside this, a chain passing through a ring 
 on the fetters of each prisoner, linked the first 
 couple to the second, and so on in succession, 
 thus uniting the whole party, however nume- 
 rous, and rendering escape on the road impos- 
 sible: hence the use of the phrase, "the 
 chain," to express the body of prisoners sent 
 off to the galleys. M. Le Fevre was detained 
 about two months at Dijon, and then con- 
 ducted, with his companions in misery, to 
 Chalons, where the chain that came from 
 Paris also arrived about the same time; and to 
 this was attached the devoted M. de Marolles, 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 123 
 
 whose sufferings occupy the next chapter. 
 He was, at that time, ill with fever; and the 
 sickness of this good man seems to have been 
 far more afflicting to M. Le Fevre than his 
 own sufferings. He writes to a friend: "If 
 it were not for the sickness of the illustrious 
 M. de Marolles, which continues still, I would 
 tell you, my dear friend, nothing but matters 
 of rejoicing; but my heart is wounded. I 
 hope, with the assistance of heaven, that the 
 fever of that servant of the Lord Jesus will 
 abate by rest." 
 
 When they finally arrived at Marseilles, 
 both de Marolles and Le Fevre were found 
 unable to work, and were removed to the hos- 
 pital of the galley; from whence the following 
 letter, descriptive of their afflictions and their 
 abounding consolation, under all, was written 
 by M. Le Fevre, on the 20th of August, 
 1786. 
 
 " It seemed to me as if my flesh was grown 
 suddenly old. I found myself in the pains of 
 death: the guard thought me dead, and as such, 
 one took one thing, and another took another 
 tffing from me; and had it not been for the 
 little stop we made at Avignon, I could expect 
 
124 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 nothing short of a cruel death. With long 
 
 entreaties, M. de St. P suffered me to 
 
 take a litter, on paying for the guard. Money 
 was a great assistance to me*: I have dispersed 
 it. But wherefore all those cares and expen- 
 ses, to come to a place that may be called the 
 abode of misery; where I am mixed with a 
 very great number of galley-slaves? I have 
 been forty-eight hours without being able to 
 eat or drink what they give here, or capable 
 of closing the eye to sleep. At last, com- 
 mending my soul to God, in that condition I 
 saw Mr. J.* coming to me, who told me that 
 I was recommended to him by his friend G. 
 After that visit, the fever left me. My life is 
 not precious to me; I could leave it with 
 delight, if it were God's will; but the Lord 
 appears to work miracles to preserve me. 
 Farewell, my dear: greet the brethren, and 
 pray for me. They continue controversies 
 with me, and to speak of my changing my 
 religion. Plow long, Lord!" 
 
 While he was in that hospital, with M. de 
 Marolles, he was very ill. " I fall," said he, 
 " from one relapse to another, and have fouTO 
 
 * Supposed to be a physician. 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 125 
 
 myself at death's door. The physician of the 
 hospital took great care of me, and he won- 
 dered to see me not complaining, and ' that 
 the pains I endured did not make me sigh/ 
 I could not walk these two days, and find 
 myself very weak; yet do not believe for all 
 that, that our condition is so unhappy as the 
 people of the world think it: no, doubtless, 
 were it only for the testimony of a good con- 
 science, we are happy; and nothing can take 
 our joy from us in our sufferings. The Divine 
 Comforter, who puts us all in heart, comes to 
 our assistance: sometimes he hides himself, 
 because we are people of little faith; but God 
 pities our necessities: he supports us, and 
 takes us by the hand; and in that state death 
 is no longer a king of terrors to us. We are 
 assured by him that loved us, that we shall 
 receive mercy, and die the death of the right- 
 eous. What a comfort! What a solid happi- 
 ness is this!" 
 
 In a letter of the 17th of September, 1686, 
 he says: " They sent me and M. de Marolles 
 to the galleys, without any regard that we are 
 languishing and sick. M. de Marolles began 
 to walk, but /cannot stand. He was declared 
 
126 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 invalid, and put into the St. John, so that he 
 is exempted from rowing; and I expect only 
 what it shall please God to send me. I went 
 on board yesterday, where I was immediately 
 loaded with chains. To all this I oppose the 
 will of God. If poverty, sickness, pains, and 
 captivity, are the means he will make use of, 
 why should I refuse them? I shall die con- 
 tentedly when it may please God to call me. 
 In these hard extremes, though God should 
 slay me, yet will I hope in him, and praise 
 him all the days of my life. I am reduced to 
 lie on a board that is but a little more than 
 two feet wide. I have nothing to cover me; 
 but the galley-slaves, my neighbours, have 
 stripped themselves for me: and if the lice 
 and bugs did not disturb me, I have found 
 myself disposed for sleep. While I was on 
 board the Grand Reale, I was entered among 
 , the rest; for, in the galley, all the slaves are 
 entered down, from whencesoever they come. 
 She never goes to sea, nor moves out of the 
 harbour. When she has many slaves on board, 
 they are all sorted, from time to time, except 
 those they have a respect for; and they are 
 brought into a spacious place, where the inten- 
 
PRISONER OP THE GALLEYS. 127 
 
 dant, the commissary-general, and the captains 
 of the galleys meet; and they make choice of 
 the lustiest and most vigorous of those that 
 are ahle to row, and the rest are sent back to 
 the Grand Reale until further orders. Choice 
 being made of those that are in health, they 
 are divided on the armed galleys. Each cap- 
 tain takes his share. My bad looks were of 
 use to me: I was not chosen on that occasion. 
 There was but one captain that put a little 
 jest upon me; for, turning towards me, he 
 asked the Sieur Bonvalet which was the advo- 
 cate, for he wanted one. I answered him with 
 such a sorrowful and languishing tone, that I 
 was the advocate, that he turned away from 
 me." 
 
 Before he was removed from the galley to 
 the dungeon, he found means to send the fol- 
 lowing letter to his pastor: 
 
 " My design was. dear pastor, to give you 
 an exact relation of what happened to me; but 
 certain reasons hindered me. I shall tell 
 you, in short, my condition. I told you 
 before, that I was watched, and shut up, and 
 had seen no one. I was then put on board a 
 galley. I was loaded with irons and chains. 
 
128 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 I lay on the boards, though it was very cold. 
 They hindered me from covering myself. 
 They railed at me, and lifted up their cudgels 
 against me. A fever seized me, and all my 
 body was full of pains. In that condition my 
 soul, raising itself above visible things, sought 
 its God, and its only hope. The comforts that 
 our Lord Jesus Christ gave us increased pro- 
 portionably to the number of the evils that we 
 endured for his sake. He encouraged me in 
 all my fears, and said unto me, ' I am thy sal- 
 vation." On board one galley, I witnessed 
 the assistance of men: on board the other, I 
 experienced the help of God. What shall I 
 say to you? That holy and divine Spirit -was 
 himself my comforter. Who else could make 
 me despise the things I feared most? The 
 faithfulness of my God is great! He is near 
 those that wait on him, to support, maintain, 
 and defend them. He leads us through dark- 
 ness to his marvellous light; and among the 
 dread of the galleys, he makes us taste ineffa- 
 ble delights. I might truly say, (with the 
 apostle,) ' When I am weak, then am I strong.' 
 I shall only add, that I am weakness itself. I 
 have fightings without and fears within. My 
 
PRISONER OP THE GALLEYS. J29 
 
 heart is often troubled: my soul trembles, and 
 finds itself fainting; and if God comforts me, 
 it is because he is my refuge, and that divers 
 persons, that are acceptable to him, pray for 
 my preservation in faith and love. I conjure 
 you then, by the love you have for me, to 
 pray without ceasing; and not only for me 
 alone, but for my dear fellow-sufferers also. 
 Here are divers witnesses, who preserve their 
 faith and hope inviolably, and that are resol- 
 ved to suffer all, yea, death itself, if it please 
 the Lord, ' for the word of God, and the tes- 
 timony of Jesus. ? We endeavour to attain 
 the mark of our high calling. The race is 
 difficult; the way is rough; but we cast our 
 eyes on the Lord Jesus, the author and finisher 
 of our faith. We place all our confidence in 
 him that raised the dead, and who ' calls the 
 things that are not, as though they were. 9 " 
 
 His trials were then only beginning. From 
 the galley-hospital 'he was removed to a dun- 
 geon in the Fort St. John, which he describes 
 as a vault of an irregular figure, which had 
 formerly been a stable; but, being too damp, 
 was found unhealthy for horses: it was there- 
 fore abandoned for that purpose, and consider- 
 
130 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 ed a suitable receptacle for such unfortunate 
 inmates of the galleys as were no longer able 
 to labour at the oar. The manger and rack 
 still remained to show its original destination; 
 and the light was admitted only through a 
 grating in the door. As he entered this place, 
 they searched him, and took away the only 
 books he had been able to retain till that time. 
 At first, he rested for some nights in the man- 
 ger, and afterwards, for a month, on a short 
 and narrow chest, which was rendered yet 
 more inconvenient by having a seat of straw 
 placed at each end, so that he could not lie in 
 an easy posture. Nevertheless, he says he 
 slept quietly enough; only that the cold some- 
 times awakened him, as he had no other cover- 
 ing than the prison-garments they had given 
 him in the galley. No fire was allowed 
 him. " This hard entertainment," he observes, 
 " caused me a defluxion on the teeth, great 
 pain, rheumatism, and at length continual 
 fever. But God made use of these means to 
 wean my heart from the world, and to teach 
 me to persevere in a faithful resignation to his 
 will." Though of a tender constitution, his 
 life seems to have been preserved almost mira- 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 131 
 
 culously under so many privations and suffer- 
 ings. At this period he was not permitted to 
 see any of his friends; but he still, at times, 
 found opportunity to communicate with them 
 by letter, and likewise to hold similar inter- 
 course with his honoured fellow-sufferer, M. 
 de Marolles. This was very difficult, as all 
 who assisted the prisoners in such intercourse 
 were liable to the severest punishments, and 
 might even be condemned to death for it. He 
 was sometimes obliged to keep his letters a 
 year before he could send them. Though he 
 still possessed his soul in patience, there were 
 seasons when he was led to look on death as 
 his best friend, and to consider that the happi- 
 ness of his life consisted, in losing it. To a 
 beloved relative he writes: "Be sensible of 
 my misery, but be yet more sensible of the 
 glory and happiness to which that misery 
 tends. Death is nothing: Jesus Christ hath 
 conquered it for me; and when the time shall 
 come, he will give me sufficient strength to 
 pull off the mask that it wears in great afflic- 
 tions. The fear of living a long time is 
 greater than that of dying soon. In the mean 
 
132 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 ej it is more honourable to endure the most 
 wretched life than to desire death." 
 
 At times he wrote as if he believed himself 
 dying; and, under this apprehension, asked 
 pardon of all those whom he had offended 
 through weakness, inadvertence, or otherwise; 
 adding, " I freely forgive those who have of- 
 fended me in any way whatsoever. No! it is 
 not likely I can live much longer, unless the 
 Lord move the hearts of those who give orders 
 for my sustenance. They try always to weary 
 out my patience; and there is reason to be- 
 lieve that the money given for me is not em- 
 ployed for my relief. I do not know what is 
 done with it. That which is certain is, that 
 when I entered into my dungeon, the major 
 told me that the king would not maintain me, 
 and that I ought to give orders for my expen- 
 ses.* I did it, and agreed with a tavern- 
 keeper for ten-pence a day, which lasted but 
 three months, because the host that served me 
 
 * For this purpose he was permitted to send bills of ex- 
 change to his relations, drawn by himself; but he was not 
 allowed to accompany them with a single line of informa- 
 tion respecting his health or condition in any particular. 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 133 
 
 cheated me of provisions; and the major fa- 
 voured him, though he seemed not to approve 
 of his conduct when complaint was made to 
 him. He had also promised that I should be 
 provided with a matrass and covering, mine 
 being rotten, and my covering all rags; but 
 his promise was of no avail. In the mean 
 time, how great soever my anguish was, I 
 esteemed it more expedient to suffer life than 
 to desire death: unless it be desired as St. 
 Paul did, to live with Christ, to possess the 
 fulness of that holiness and charity, that is 
 only to be found in heaven. God will be glo- 
 rified by my sufferings; the longer they last, 
 and the more difficult to be supported, the 
 more glory the Lord will have of them. 
 They deny me all manner of commerce with 
 the living, and also with the dead; but the 
 Lord, who is my God and my deliverer, has 
 relieved me. He has had pity on my weak- 
 ness, and given me patience that I never durst 
 have hoped for. Glory be given to him for 
 it now and evermore! It is glorious to suffer 
 for his cause. I do not refuse the honour he 
 does me on that account; but I entreat him 
 12 
 
134 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 by the bowels of his mercy, to work in me 
 more powerfully, both to will and to do ac- 
 cording to his good pleasure." 
 
 Years passed away, and Le Fevre was still 
 the solitary tenant of the dungeon at Marseil- 
 les. While the companions of his youth and 
 manhood, and those who had entered with 
 him on an honourable career, were pursuing 
 their course, amid the active scenes of life, 
 surrounded by social and domestic comforts, 
 he sat alone in his cell, unseen by all, by many 
 unremembered; but surely not forgotten by 
 Him " who heareth the prayer of the desti- 
 tute," and suffereth the sighing of the prisoner 
 to come up before him. 
 
 The trial of the sufferer's faith and patience 
 was, indeed, prolonged; but still he was sup- 
 ported under it. His weakness was strength- 
 ened; his sorrows were mitigated; his spirit 
 was cheered by the presence of that gracious 
 Saviour, who saith to his children, " I will 
 never leave nor forsake you; and none shall 
 pluck you out of my hand." Of a truth he is 
 their Lord, and their Shepherd, in every 
 scene of calamity, as well as in the dark valley 
 of the shadow of death; and they are enabled 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 135 
 
 to say, " I will fear no evil: thy rod and thy 
 staff they comfort me." 
 
 "That field of promise how it flings abroad 
 It's odour o'er the Christian's thorny road ! 
 The soul, reposing on assured relief, 
 Feels herself happy amidst all her grief; 
 Forgets her labour as she toils along, 
 Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song." 
 
 Many of those who were dwelling at ease 
 and in prosperity, but whose hearts were not 
 right before God, might well have envied Le 
 Fevre in his afflictions. It is thus he writes to 
 a relative, in 1695: "I enter into the tenth 
 year of my sufferings; and by God's grace I 
 have neither lost faith nor patience, at least 
 not totally. Ah! my dear kinswoman, the 
 Lord hath heard your prayer, and those of 
 the Moseses and Samuels who intercede for 
 me. If I were but disburdened of sin, and if 
 1 could disengage myself from the thoughts of 
 the world, I should be too happy. I should 
 be incomparably more happy than I was in 
 the world, though, when I left it, I had almost 
 all I could desire in it. But I confess, with 
 grief and confusion, that I am a man of little 
 faith, and a sinner. I have desired my visi- 
 
136 M. LE FEVRE, THE 
 
 ble and temporal liberty with too much fer- 
 vency. I expect all from the grace of my 
 God: I hope all from my Saviour, Jesus 
 Christ, who will subject my flesh to himself, 
 and who will heal the diseases of my soul. 
 My comfort is, that this Great Physician has 
 undertaken my cure, and that he will never 
 forsake me. He sought me when I did not 
 seek him, he has engaged me in the defence 
 of his truth, in spite of my resistance and my 
 fear. Will he forsake me, then, when I seek 
 him when I am afraid of nothing more 
 than that I should fear something else more 
 than him? No! because that seeking after 
 him, that desire, that filial fear are earnests 
 of his love, and assurances of his protection. 
 What has he not done, and what does he not 
 do for me? and where can I find one like him 
 in heaven or earth? He opens the ear of my 
 soul, to cause me to hear his voice; and he 
 takes me by the hand when he seeth me stag- 
 ger. He raiseth me up when I am fallen: he 
 supports me, in my weaknesses and defects, 
 from all the power of those who would devour 
 me. His design, doubtless, is to lead me into 
 that city whereof ' glorious things are spo- 
 
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 137 
 
 ken.' As for the rest, God is always in my 
 heart, though he does not always make him- 
 self to be equally felt there. I shall rest with 
 confidence, provided he assists me; for, with- 
 out his assistance, I fall away like water. 
 God is stronger than all, and no one can take 
 me out of his hand. The tender care that his 
 adorable providence has been pleased to take 
 of me, strengthens me in the midst of my 
 fears." 
 
 After the period at which the above letter 
 was written, six years more were added to his 
 captivity; and then his spirit was freed from 
 every fetter, to enter into the mansion prepa- 
 red for him, where the oppressor can never 
 enter. 
 
 From the scanty records of his last days, 
 we find that some alleviations were allowed 
 him in his extremity. He was permitted the 
 privilege of sometimes seeing a benevolent 
 Protestant lady, (Lady Salincroffe,) in the 
 presence of witnesses. To see and converse 
 with one who had so much in common with 
 him, was an unspeakable consolation; though 
 their intercourse was fettered by the presence 
 of men who watched the utterance of every 
 12* 
 
138 M. LE FEVRE. 
 
 word. In all her visits Lady Salincroffe found 
 the sufferer like the first martyr, Stephen, full 
 of faith and of the Holy Ghost, and all zeal and 
 charity for his persecutors. She saw him for 
 the last time, two days before his death. He 
 then appeared very weak, but in the same 
 truly Christian frame of spirit. 
 
 A Protestant gentleman, writing of this 
 event, says: " We are sorry we could not col- 
 lect what he had to say in his sickness. He 
 is dead: that is to say, he has conquered, by 
 the grace of God; and there remains nothing 
 for him but to triumph with his Saviour, and 
 to possess that kingdom and crown which he 
 purchased for his confessors and martyrs." 
 
 Such are the prison annals of M. Le Fevre. 
 Are not his sufferings recorded on high? 
 When the books shall be opened, and the 
 judgment set, this patient sufferer will assu- 
 redly be of the number to whom the Judge 
 shall say, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, 
 inherit a kingdom prepared for you from the 
 foundations of the world." 
 
139 
 
 M. DE MAROLLES, 
 
 THE EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 
 
 ONE of the many instances in which the Pro- 
 testants were prevented from obeying the 
 exhortation of the apostle, " When they per- 
 secute you in one city flee unto another/' 
 occurred in the case of M. Louis de Marolles. 
 He was of an ancient family, and held the 
 office of king's counsellor, and receiver of con- 
 signments in the distant province where he 
 was settled with his wife and four children. 
 When the Decree of Revocation sounded its 
 fearful note of warning through the land, M. 
 de Marolles proposed to escape with his family 
 to another country. They had nearly reached 
 the limits of the kingdom, and would soon 
 have passed the Rhine, and been in safety, 
 among the Protestants of Germany, when 
 they were overtaken, arrested, and conveyed 
 to one of the prisons at Strasbourg, on the 2d 
 
140 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 of December, 1685. His wife and children 
 were afterwards set at liberty, and allowed to 
 proceed on their journey; but he was tried, 
 and condemned to the galleys, by the follow- 
 ing decree: 
 
 " We adjudge, that the said de Marolles is 
 declared, proved, and convicted of having been 
 apprehended endeavouring to go out of the 
 kingdom, with his family, contrary to his 
 majesty 's edicts and declarations; for repara- 
 tion whereof, we have condemned, and do 
 condemn the said de Marolles, prisoner, to 
 serve the king for ever, on board the galleys; 
 and his personal goods and chattels forfeited 
 to the king, by this our judgment and decree." 
 
 For this crime of endeavouring to escape 
 to a country where he might serve his God 
 according to the dictates of an enlightened 
 conscience, he was torn from his beloved 
 family, and condemned to hopeless slavery, 
 and untold hardships. His health sunk under 
 his accumulated sufferings, even before he 
 reached the galley at Marseilles, which was to 
 be his mournful abiding-place, as long as he 
 had strength to move the oar; but so debili- 
 tated was he found to be, that he was speedily 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 141 
 
 removed, as disabled, and consigned to a dun- 
 geon, where the remainder of his days were 
 passed. 
 
 The case of this excellent and respectable 
 man seems to have excited much sensation, 
 both at Paris and the places he passed through. 
 Such scenes, afterwards, became too common 
 to awaken much interest. " This famous galle- 
 rien," says his biographer, " whose case had 
 excited so much emotion in Paris, drew a 
 great concourse of people at his departure. 
 Every one seemed touched with the scene; 
 and an ancient Catholic merchant, breaking 
 through the throng, came and embraced him, 
 encouraging him, and offering him his purse. 
 This man's heart was indeed touched; for he 
 hath since given glory to God, and retired 
 with his family to London, there to make pro- 
 fession of the truth." 
 
 His departure for Marseilles did not imme- 
 diately follow his condemnation. He was 
 detained many weeks in the prison of Les 
 Tournelles, where those persons who are con- 
 demned to the galleys wait, till the whole of 
 the convicts are ready to set out. During this 
 
142 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 period he wrote the following letter to his 
 sister-in-law: 
 
 " I have been two full months, with seven 
 miserable wretches, condemned either to the 
 galleys or to be broken alive on the wheel, in 
 a dungeon so dark that I could not well dis- 
 cern their faces. They have all of them been 
 troubled with rheums and fluxes, which God 
 has preserved me from, though I am old, and 
 they are all of them young. The llth of the 
 month, I was taken out of the dungeon, and 
 brought to the criminal court to be judged. 
 The president of the house, who was at the 
 head of my judges, ordered me to sit down 
 upon the prisoners' stool, and take my oath to 
 speak the truth. I answered to all he desired 
 to know of me; after which, he gave me an 
 exhortation, and bid me think seriously with 
 myself, that it was not they that should judge 
 me, but that the declaration of the king did 
 especially mention my condemnation. I re- 
 turned him thanks for his goodness, and told 
 him that my resolution was fixed long ago 
 and that I resigned myself to the court, and 
 was ready to suffer the penalties to which 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS ALIGHT. 143 
 
 they might think fit to condemn me; and that, 
 however great they might be, they would be 
 less uneasy to me than to act against the light 
 of my conscience, and live like a hypocrite. 
 They ordered me, thereupon, to withdraw, 
 and I was conveyed back to my dungeon. I 
 expected to be conducted in the afternoon to 
 Les Tournelles, but they deferred my judg- 
 ment till the Tuesday following. The 14th 
 of May, they put manacles on my hands, and 
 so conducted me in a coach to Les Tournelles. 
 The governor, knowing who I was, and being 
 informed of my crime, caused me to be treated 
 with as much gentleness as can be expected in 
 that place. They were contented to put a fet- 
 ter on one foot. But, the next morning, he 
 came to tell me he had just received orders, 
 which afflicted him very much; which was, 
 that the king had commanded that the chain 
 should be put on my neck. I thanked him 
 for the kindness he expressed towards me, 
 and told him that I was ready to pay a res- 
 pectful obedience to the orders of his majesty. 
 I laid aside my hat; they took the chain from 
 off my foot, and put another about my neck, 
 which doth not, I believe, weigh less than 
 
144 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 thirty pounds. Thus you see, my dear sister, 
 the state and condition which the wise provi- 
 dence of God hath chosen and allotted for me, 
 out of a thousand others in which he might 
 have placed me. I expect, from his mercy, 
 strength and constancy, to suffer all for his 
 glory. Do not afflict yourself at my condi- 
 tion, my dear sister; it is more happy than 
 you think. Weep not for me. Keep your 
 tears for so many miserable wretches who live 
 not so contentedly as I do. Grant me the 
 assistance of your prayers. I assure you I do 
 not forget you in mine." 
 
 He remained in this prison till the month of 
 July was far advanced, and wrote from thence 
 several letters, and, among them, one to the 
 celebrated Protestant minister, M. Jurieu. 
 After alluding to his imprisonment, he ob- 
 serves: " The satisfaction with which God 
 enables me to regard my sufferings, confirms 
 my belief that he will give me grace to con- 
 tinue faithful to him, even unto death. I am 
 certain that the light afflictions with which he 
 is pleased to visit me, will produce in me, 
 according to his divine promises, an eternal 
 weight of exceeding great glory. I comfort 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 145 
 
 myself, because the sufferings of this present 
 time are not worthy to be compared with the 
 future glory which is to be revealed in us. I 
 rejoice that our Saviour has pronounced those 
 blessed ' who suffer for righteousness' sake. ' 
 Thus, sir, I make all my happiness and glory 
 to c'onsist in this, that my Redeemer doth not 
 count me unworthy to suffer for his name 
 sake. 1 fix my confidence upon the eternal 
 Rock. I put all my trust in him. I expect 
 help and succour from him alone. Fixed 
 upon so solid a foundation, I persuade myself 
 that nothing shall be able to move me. This, 
 sir, is my usual occupation, as much as the 
 infamous place in which I am confined will 
 permit. I call it infamous, because there is 
 not an honest or a virtuous word to be heard 
 here. It resounds with nothing but filthy 
 communications and execrable blasphemies. 
 They make such noise and tumult all day, and 
 for the greater part of the night, that hereto- 
 fore I could scarcely find a favourable oppor- 
 tunity to lift up my heart to God. I was so 
 overwhelmed with drowsiness, that I often 
 fell asleep before I had made an end of prayer. 
 
 When I awoke, about three or four o'clock in 
 13 
 
M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 the morning, I endeavoured to keep myself 
 awake, that I might, while the place was free 
 from noise, pay my homage to God with 
 some attention. I have had more liberty 
 these ten or twelve days; for when it is fine 
 weather, they suffer the chain to go out, and 
 abide in the court all day, excepting six of us, 
 who are kept locked up. I spend one part of 
 this time in reading, meditation, and prayer; 
 and I likewise take the liberty to sing psalms, 
 as I have done in all the places of my impri- 
 sonment, without ever having been complain- 
 ed of for it. We lie, fifty-three of us, in a 
 place which is not above thirty feet in length, 
 and nine in breadth. There lies, at the right 
 side of me, a sick peasant, with his head at my 
 feet. There is scarcely one among us who 
 does not envy the condition of dogs and horses. 
 This makes us all desire that the chain may 
 quickly depart. They conceal the time of 
 departure from us; but, as far as we can judge, 
 it will take place next Saturday. We were, 
 yesterday, ninety-five condemned persons; but 
 two died that day, and one to-day. We have 
 still fifteen or sixteen sick. I have had five 
 fits of tertian fever; but I thank God I am 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 147 
 
 completely recovered, and fit to undertake the 
 journey to Marseilles. We shall take in some 
 of our brethren at Burgogne, who are con- 
 demned to the chain for the same cause that I 
 am, who have the honour to be the first con- 
 demned by the parliament of Paris. " 
 
 To another minister he writes: " I can truly 
 and sincerely say, sir, that the prisons and 
 dark dungeons, in which I have been confined 
 for above these six months, and the chain 
 which I now carry about my neck, have been 
 so far from shaking the holy resolution which 
 God has put into my heart, that it has only 
 strengthened and confirmed it. I have sought 
 God, in my affliction, in quite a different me- 
 thod than ever I did in my prosperity; and I 
 may say, that he has suffered himself to be 
 found of me. He has very delightfully com- 
 municated himself to me, by the sweetness of 
 his consolations. The evils with which I am 
 threatened do not at all terrify me. If they 
 are violent, I am not in a condition to bear up 
 long against them; and so, then, death will 
 put a happy period thereto. If they are mo- 
 derate, I shall have reason to bless our God 
 for it, who will continue his favour and good- 
 
148 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 ness towards me. These considerations make 
 me look on the future with firmness and 
 assurance. " 
 
 Passing by the details of his melancholy 
 journey, we will present our readers with 
 extracts from letters, written on board the 
 galleys, which exhibit his Christian fortitude 
 and patience, under his severe trials, and may 
 well make us blush, who bear our lighter ills 
 with so different a spirit. His very weak 
 state of health caused him to be removed, 
 with M. Le Fevre, to the hospital, by which 
 his sufferings were greatly mitigated for a 
 time. From the hospital he writes thus to 
 his afflicted wife, on the 15th of September: 
 
 " The miserable journey which I have made 
 has taught me what it is to suffer: let us, there- 
 fore content ourselves, my dear child, since 
 that is past and gone, and I am in a place of 
 rest. I live very contentedly, in the company 
 of M. Le Fevre, who is a famous martyr, and 
 was an advocate at Chatel Chinon, in Niver- 
 nois. We are always together; our beds join 
 one another. Fresh supplies are daily offered 
 to M. Le Fevre and myself. A banker has 
 offered us money, if we have occasion for it. 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 149 
 
 M. La F. has likewise written to me twice, 
 to offer me money; but, I thank God, we do 
 not yet want it. M. P. has my little treasure 
 in his hand. He has provided me a steward 
 at the hospital, to buy me whatsoever I want, 
 who reckons with M. P. for his expenses. 
 Thus you see, my love, I have nothing else to 
 do but to pray to God, and be cheerful. Let 
 this comfort you, and give you reason not to 
 trouble yourself at my condition; it is render- 
 ed easy, by the grace of God." 
 
 A few days later he wrote to one his of sons: 
 "It is designed next week, to embark one 
 hundred and fifty galley-slaves for America. 
 I was ranked in this number; but one of my 
 friends told the intendant that I was recovered 
 from three fits of sickness, which I have had 
 since my departure from La Tournelle. The 
 favour which he grants me is, that he reserves 
 me for a second embarkation, which is to be 
 made towards the middle of November. The 
 advantage which I shall gain by this delay is, 
 that he who spoke to the intendant for me, 
 has the direction of the vessel in which I shall 
 make the voyage. Fear not; this is not able 
 to shake my constancy: God, by his grace, 
 13* 
 
150 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 has fixed it upon too solid a foundation. It is 
 no matter to me whether I die by sea or by 
 land, in Europe or America. I have fully 
 resigned myself to the will of God. I am 
 persuaded that all states and conditions in 
 which it shall please him to place me, are 
 those states in which he judges I shall glorify 
 him better than in an infinite number of others 
 which he might allot me. You must not be 
 afflicted; this was decreed in heaven before it 
 was appointed on earth; and we mu^t all be 
 persuaded that it is for our good God is pleas- 
 ed so to order it." 
 
 In a cheerful letter, addressed to his wife, 
 he gives a sprightly description of his little 
 plans for the management of his prison affairs, 
 and details to her the particulars of his " fine 
 galley-slave habit." He adds, with touching 
 simplicity, "My clothes of liberty are not 
 lost; and if it should please the king to show 
 me favour, I should have them again. We 
 have the most honest patron of all the galleys. 
 He treats me with all manner of civility and 
 respect. He will put me into what part of 
 the galley I please ; and he has promised that, 
 when it is cold, he will let me lie in his cabin. 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 151 
 
 Let all these succours, which God affords me, 
 comfort and rejoice thee. I am already as 
 used to the place where I am, as if I had been 
 there all my life time." 
 
 He had now been removed from the hospi- 
 tal back to the galley; but it does not appear 
 that he was compelled to labour. In the fol- 
 lowing month, he wrote to his wife, from the 
 galley La Fiere: " You must not disturb and 
 disquiet yourself for me. I am at present in 
 perfect health; but, in order fully to persuade 
 you that I conceal nothing of my condition 
 from you, I will give you to understand, that 
 M. Le Fevre and myself are no longer set 
 loose from the chain, either by day or night; 
 and that we are not allowed the liberty of 
 going on shore, nor suffered to receive letters, 
 nor to write any which are not seen. Where- 
 fore, if you do not meet with any more trifles 
 in mine, by which I have endeavoured to di- 
 vert thee from thy trouble, be not afflicted, 
 and do not impute any thing to me on that 
 account. I have changed my galley thrice in 
 one week; from La Grande St. Jean, I have 
 been removed to La Petite, and from thence 
 to La Grande Royale, whence I was con- 
 
|52 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 ducted, with several other galley-slaves, to the 
 Pare, a place where they divide them : lastly, 
 I was put on board an armed galley, which is 
 called La Fiere." 
 
 From this time his sufferings seem to have 
 increased; but he still endeavoured to give his 
 friends as favourable an impression of his 
 situation as he could do, consistently with 
 truth; speaking but little of his sorrows, and 
 magnifying his mercies. Finding that some 
 distressing reports of his condition had reach- 
 ed his wife, he wrote to her as follows: 
 
 " All that of which you have sent me word 
 is false, except two things; namely, that for 
 above three months I have been confined to 
 the chain day and night, and that I have only 
 been freed from it to be conveyed to the 
 Bishop of Marseilles.* I assure you, that I 
 have not as yet received orders from any one, 
 to employ myself in work. I sat very quietly 
 in my place, and saw it done, before the short 
 days; and it is at present done almost every 
 day, before I am removed from my place. 
 Praise God, therefore, with me, for this mer- 
 
 * He had many interviews with the bishop, who sought 
 to convert him to the Romish faith by his arguments. 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 153 
 
 ciful treatment which he affords me; and be- 
 seech him, that as long as he shall see fit to 
 continue my sufferings, my condition may not 
 become worse. I assure you I have not so 
 much reason to complain as you imagine; and 
 the time slips away very quickly. The week 
 is no sooner begun, than I find myself at 
 the end of it. When I am up, after having 
 presented my petitions to God, I read, six, 
 seven, or eight chapters of Holy Scriptures, 
 and make such reflections and observations 
 thereon as I am able. I draw from this di- 
 vine source all the consolations of which I 
 stand in need. God himself does most plen- 
 tifully furnish me with them; and with his 
 precious balm of Gilead, he gently anoints and 
 soothes all the wounds which my sufferings 
 may make in my heart." 
 
 In another letter he says: " My paper is 
 full, and I find I have yet a long story to tell 
 you. I am lodged in one of the extremities 
 of the galley, which is called the prow, or 
 beak, in a little cabin, about seven or eight 
 feet square. The ceiling is so low that I 
 cannot stand upright in it. We generally lie 
 four of us therein; two galleriens and two 
 
154 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 slaves. Twice or thrice a week I commonly 
 boil the pot, in which is put five quarters of a 
 pound of mutton. This does not make a full 
 pound of our country weight. There is very 
 little beef here, and scarcely any veal. The 
 other gallerien and I eat together, though I 
 alone pay for it; but he does me service 
 enough for it other ways. Bread is dear, but 
 I sometimes eat of the king's bread. As for 
 the other food, that which the king allows is a 
 good half porringer full of beans, dressed in 
 oil, for the whole day. I eat none of it; so 
 my usual food is bread, with which I have of 
 late eaten a few dried raisins, a pound of which 
 cost me eighteen deniers. The wines here 
 are so gross that they produce much disease. 
 I lie upon a galley mattrass, which they call 
 strapontin. It is made of three or four old 
 coats. I had it from a gallerien belonging to 
 the bench, who went off with the first embar- 
 kation for America. They have lent me a 
 quilt, which, together with my great-coat, 
 serve me for a coverlet. I have bought coals, 
 which are very dear, and I make a little fire 
 in our apartment. Our officers come to warm 
 themselves, and talk with me at my fire: I 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS PLIGHT. 155 
 
 mean those who have the command of the 
 galleriens, and I have always received civility 
 enough from them. The second embarkment 
 for America is made up, but I believe the 
 vessel is yet in port. The beginning of last 
 month, there arrived here a chain of one hun- 
 dred and fifty men, without reckoning thirty- 
 three who died by the way. M. Gamier is 
 one of the number, with a nephew of M. Var- 
 nier, doctor of physic, and M. Changuinon, of 
 Vassi, and his brother-in-law, who went by 
 the name of Chemet. There were seven or 
 eight Protestants. The above-named four are 
 in the hospital." The death of the two latter 
 sufferers, soon after their arrival at Marseilles, 
 has been recorded in a former chapter. 
 
 M. de Marolles goes on to say, that he 
 beguiles the hours of captivity, by turning his 
 attention to geometry and algebra, which 
 were his favourite studies in the days of pros- 
 perity. He even expresses the pleasure he 
 has felt in being told that there is a good alge- 
 braist in Marseilles; and adds, " if that is the 
 case, we may teach each other something." 
 Thus did this good man avail himself, with a 
 thankful heart, of all the alleviations placed 
 
156 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 within his reach; while, at the same time, he 
 resigned himself wholly to the will of his 
 Heavenly Father, persuaded that he would 
 order all things well. How different is this 
 to the way in which we are, too many of us, 
 prone to receive our afflictions; crying out, 
 with Jonah, when our gourds are smitten, 
 "Take my life from me, I beseech thee; for 
 it is better for me to die than to live!" or, at 
 the best, sullenly resigning ourselves to evils, 
 which we know it is impossible for us to pre- 
 vent. How unlike this to the spirit of cheer- 
 ful submission, which kisses the rod, and takes 
 joyfully the appointed trial; saying, " Shall 
 we receive good at the hand of God, and shall 
 we not receive evil ?" " It is the Lord, let 
 him do what seemeth him good." Does not 
 the example of this patient sufferer in the gal- 
 leys of Marseilles, rise up to reprove us, if we 
 thus u despise the chastening of the Lord, or 
 faint when we are rebuked of him ?" 
 
 In another letter to Madame de Marolles, 
 he speaks of the comfort he had received, 
 from the tidings of her safe arrival in the 
 country to which she had fled with her chil- 
 dren; observing that he daily pours out his 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS PLIGHT. 157 
 
 soul before God, to thank him for all the mer- 
 cies and favours he has bestowed upon them 
 all. A little further, after having exhorted 
 her to offer up their bodies and souls to God, 
 as a reasonable service, and a living sacrifice, 
 holy and acceptable, he adds, " This is what 
 I daily study to do. I can truly tell you, that 
 there pass but few nights but I water my 
 couch with my tears. I do not say this, my 
 beloved, to afflict thee; I do, on the contrary, 
 imagine that this news may afford thee matter 
 of joy, and a holy occasion to join with me in 
 blessing God for it. For these tears are not 
 the effect of worldly sorrow, which bringeth 
 forth nothing else but death. They proceed 
 from the grace of God, and some of them from 
 that godly sorrow, which bringeth forth a 
 repentance unto salvation, not to be repented 
 of: others, from the joy which I feel, when I 
 consider, with admiration, how great are the 
 mercies and favours which God hath bestowed 
 upon you all, and upon myself. I likewise 
 reflect, with extreme satisfaction, upon the 
 sacrifice which thou hast offered up to God, of 
 the goods which he had given to thee and me. 
 Thou mightest have enjoyed them, if thy 
 14 
 
158 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 heart had been turned and inclined that way; 
 but thou hast made thee a treasure of them in 
 heaven, where rust and thieves spoil not. 
 Thou hast esteemed the precious liberty of 
 serving God, of much greater worth than the 
 riches of this world. Thou hast, like Mary, 
 chosen the good part, which shall not be taken 
 from thee* With all the powers and faculties 
 of my soul, I praise God, who hath given me 
 a truly Christian wife, who will do her endea- 
 vours, in my absence, to train up our children 
 as Christians." 
 
 His continued indisposition, and absolute 
 inability to work, occasioned his removal 
 from the galley, early in the following year, 
 to the dungeon where the remaining five years 
 of his life were passed. Here he was so 
 strictly guarded that it was not without ex- 
 treme difficulty he was able to keep up any 
 intercourse with those beloved beings after 
 whom his heart yearned. But a way was 
 foundj from time to time, to exchange letters 
 with his wife, as well as M. Le Fevre, and 
 some others of his fellow-sufferers: and thus 
 was the long course of his solitary captivity 
 cheered, as much as earthly solace could cheer; 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS PLIGHT. 159 
 
 and what was far, far better for the mourner, 
 the never failing fountain of everlasting con- 
 solation was still nigh at hand, and he was 
 permitted to drink freely of its refreshing 
 streams. This his own words testify, in let- 
 ters which he wrote from his dark prison- 
 house, and which, while they express the 
 most affectionate and tender feelings for his 
 afflicted wife, clearly evince that he himself 
 was lifted above his troubles, by the abundant 
 grace vouchsafed to him in his extremity. 
 After gently chiding her for troubling herself 
 at his condition, to such a degree as to impair 
 her health, he says: "It is not above two 
 hours ago that I received a letter, which gives 
 me more sorrow than joy. I received it when 
 I was offering up my evening sacrifice to God 
 on the Sabbath-day. Thou believest that I 
 hide the condition and place in which I am 
 from thee; but I have much more reason to 
 believe that- thou dost conceal thine from me. 
 That which grieves me most is, that you 
 make me an occasion of your indisposition. 
 If it is I that put the sword into your heart, 
 then do I very innocently stab myself. My 
 spirit, my beloved, is too deeply engaged to 
 
160 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 thine, not to be sensibly affected with the 
 
 evils which thou sufferest Be not disturbed 
 
 at this new cross which God lays upon me by 
 
 thy means. Do not fear it will injure my 
 
 health: I will bear it with the submission 
 
 which I owe to my God and Father, who is 
 
 full of tenderness and compassion toward me. 
 
 Imitate me in that, my dear and well-beloved 
 
 widow and not in the many failings which 
 
 you have known in me. Love me always 
 
 tenderly, as thou hast done; but let this love 
 
 be always regulated by divine love; that 
 
 which I have for thee is never separated from 
 
 it. Although I daily pour out my soul in 
 
 praise to God, for the singular favour he hath 
 
 done me, in uniting me to so Christian a wife, 
 
 yet I have always feared you did not receive 
 
 with submission enough, the affliction w r ith 
 
 which it has pleased God to prove us. Let 
 
 us imitate Eli, and say with him, in all our 
 
 sufferings, ' It is the Lord, let him do what 
 
 seemeth him good.' What reason have you 
 
 to fear, lest evil should befall me ? Dost thou 
 
 question the omnipotence of God? Oughtest 
 
 thou to imagine that God will desert me at 
 
 last, after so many years miraculous preser- 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 161 
 
 vation ? Even though I should lose my life to 
 preserve my fidelity to my Saviour, remem- 
 ber he has said, ' Whosoever will save his lif$, 
 shall lose it; but whosoever will lose his life 
 for my sake, shall save it. ? 
 
 " I must now satisfy thy curiosity. I have 
 many things to tell that I cannot mention 
 without disguise, and without a borrowed 
 name. May the Lord, who favours us in so 
 eminent a manner, grant, if it be his pleasure, 
 that no inconvenience may happen thereupon. 
 But I desire of thee, beforehand, that thou 
 wilt not make it a subject of affliction; but 
 take occasion thereby to bless the Lord. The 
 place in which I am, served formerly for a 
 lodging for soldiers; but, since that, they 
 have converted it into a dungeon. They 
 have made so much alteration in it, that there 
 is not, at present, sufficient light to hinder me 
 from bruising myself against the walls. After 
 I had been here three weeks, I was assailed 
 by so many inconveniences, that I thought I 
 could not live under them four months to an 
 end; yet it will be five years, the llth of 
 next February, that God has preserved me 
 herein. 
 
162 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 "About the 15th of October, in the first 
 year, I was afflicted with a painful defluxion, 
 which fell to the elbow of my right arm, and 
 shoulder. I could not undress myself. I 
 spent the night sometimes upon my bed, some- 
 times walking backwards and forwards, in 
 my usual darkness. I set myself to reflect 
 upon the occasion of my disease, and conclud- 
 ed that it proceeded from the cold and mois- 
 ture of the winter ; and that, to remedy it, I 
 must drink my wine unmixed with water, 
 which I did for two days following. Perceiv- 
 ing my pains increase, I took the contrary 
 course, and drank water. Finding mj^self 
 well after it, I have continued it ever since. 
 The defluxion I am speaking of continued 
 near a year. The Lord has tried me with 
 several other inconveniences, but he has de- 
 livered me out of them all. I forgot, my love, 
 to give thee a complete description of my lit- 
 tle sanctuary; that is ten of my feet in 
 length and twelve in breadth. I lie upon 
 one of the hospital quilts, with a straw bed 
 under it; and, in this respect, I am much bet- 
 ter than in the galley. This is the fourth 
 winter that I have spent almost without fire. 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 163 
 
 The first of these winters, I had none. The 
 second, they began to give me some on the 
 28th of January, and took it away from me 
 before the end of February. The third, they 
 gave me some for about fifteen days. This 
 winter I have seen none. The major might 
 give me some, if he would, for he has money 
 of mine. I have sensibly felt cold, nakedness, 
 and hunger; but all this, I thank God, is passed 
 and gone. I have lived on five sols a day, 
 which is the subsistence the king has appoint- 
 ed me. At first, I was fed by an ordinary, 
 who treated me very well for my five sols. 
 But another, who succeeded him, fed me for 
 five months, and cut me off, daily, three sols 
 in my food. The major, at length, undertook 
 to feed me in his turn, which he did at first 
 very well; but, at length, he left off to do 
 well. He opens my dungeon but once a day; 
 and hath caused my dinner, several times, to 
 be brought at nine, ten, and eleven o'clock at 
 night; and I did not receive any bread from 
 him, once, for the space of three days, and at 
 other times, twice in twenty-four hours. Per- 
 haps it was by this sparing manner of being 
 fed, that the sovereign Physician of my body 
 
164 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 and soul preserved my health. Beware, there- 
 fore, of falling into regret, whereas you ought 
 to bless God for his merciful conduct towards 
 me. I have just told you that I have suffered 
 nakedness. I have heen almost a year with- 
 out shirts. My clothes are more torn and 
 ragged than those of the beggars that stand at 
 the church doors. I have gone barefoot till 
 the 15th of December: I say barefoot, for 
 I have had stockings which have no feet, and 
 a pair of old shoes, unsowed on both sides and 
 bored through the soles. An intendant, who 
 came into this city three years ago, and saw 
 me in this magnificent dress; and though he 
 promised me much, yet he left me ten months 
 in this condition, at the end of which, God 
 raised me up succour which there was no 
 room to expect. He put it into the heart of 
 a very charitable and pious person, the almo- 
 ner of the citadel to visit me. This was no 
 doubt, done by permission of the king's lieu- 
 tenant, who is likewise very charitable; and 
 having seen me in the miserable condition I 
 was, he went out immediately to fetch me 
 some of his linen; but I hindered him. But 
 at length he did so well solicit for me, that he 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 165 
 
 procured me a whole galley-slave's suit; and 
 obliged the major to give me a pair of shoes, 
 &c., out of my own money. So that, by the 
 interposition of this good person, I am better 
 clothed than I have been in all my captivity. 
 He procured for me also a most notable ad- 
 vantage, which is, that for this last year and 
 a half, the king's lieutenant gives me, every 
 day, a lampful of oil, which affords me light 
 for six, seven or eight hours. This gives me 
 an opportunity of reading the Holy Scriptures 
 more than I did before; for they gave me but a 
 little candle for a liard a day. I have been 
 troubled with oppression of the lungs, and 
 also with giddiness, and have fallen down so 
 as to hurt my head. The giddiness I impu- 
 ted to going too long without food. But I am 
 just now, by the goodness of God, in more 
 perfect health than for these forty years. I 
 speak, my dear, sincerely, as in the presence 
 of God. Within these three months they 
 have given me three little loaves a day, and 
 some soup; since which time my head is al- 
 most settled, and I sleep much better, and 
 my giddiness is almost over. After the com- 
 fortable news I tell you, think no more but to 
 
166 M. DE MAROLLES, THE 
 
 rejoice at it, and to praise God for it; and la- 
 bour after thine own health, as that will con- 
 tribute to mine. This I conjure you in the 
 name of God; and let not your suspicions 
 any more trouble the rest and satisfaction I 
 find in his favour." 
 
 A letter, dated on the 24th of March, 1692, 
 nearly three months before his death, appears 
 to be the last written by him. From that time 
 he seems to have declined, more and more, in 
 health, as far as the secrets of his prison-house 
 have been disclosed; and, on the 17th of June 
 following, resigned his spirit into the hands of 
 his Maker. In the letter to which we have 
 referred, he repeats his exhortations to his 
 beloved wife, not to disquiet herself about 
 him; but to hope always in the goodness of 
 God, who had delivered him out of so many 
 troubles, and will still deliver. " God/' he 
 says, " hath filled my heart with joy. I pos- 
 sess my soul in patience. Thus he makes the 
 days of my affliction pass speedily away. 
 With the bread and water of affliction, with 
 which he tries me, he affords me continually 
 delicious repasts." 
 
 Such were the notes of thanksgiving that 
 
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 167 
 
 issued from the cell of the captive, at the mo- 
 ment when, worn down by suffering, his steps 
 were rapidly approaching the borders of the 
 grave. To such a man, under such circum- 
 stances, death was, indeed, no king of terrors, 
 but a welcome messenger of mercy. It came 
 to him in his low dungeon, where he chanted 
 the praises of his God, as the angel who visited 
 Paul and Silas in their bonds, to open the 
 prison-door, and unloose the fetters the hand 
 of oppression had fastened on him. But it 
 needed not for him, as for the apostolic suf- 
 ferers, that the jailor should have compassion 
 on him, washing his wounds: they were all 
 healed. There was henceforth, for him, no 
 pain, nor sickness, nor sorrow. He who, as 
 seen in the apocalyptic vision, " holdeth the 
 seven stars in his hand, and walketh in the 
 midst of the seven golden candlesticks," hath 
 before hand pronounced the sentence of such 
 a devoted and persevering martyr: " Fear none 
 of those things which thou shalt suffer. Be 
 thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a 
 crown of life." Rev. ii. 10. 
 
168 
 
 THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 
 
 THE fatal effects of the Decree of Revoca- 
 tion did not terminate with the reign of the 
 monarch under whose sanction it had been 
 promulgated. After a long career, darkly 
 clouded at its close, Louis XIV. died, in 1715. 
 Thirty years of persecution had then passed 
 over the heads of the Protestants of France, 
 and they were still left as a prey to the des- 
 troyer. Many instances of martyrdom occur- 
 red long after that period, especially in the 
 southern provinces. One of these appalling 
 events took place at Toulouse, in 1762. The 
 circumstances attending it are related by an 
 eye-witness, in a letter writtea to a friend, a 
 day or two after the execution. The victims 
 were men who excited particular interest, 
 from their character and from their station in 
 life. They were four in number: M. Rochette, 
 a devoted young minister, and three young 
 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 169 
 
 men of rank, the Messieurs Grenier, who were 
 brothers, and particular friends of the clergy- 
 man. They had all been detained in prison 
 several months; and, on the 17th of February, 
 they were tried before the two chambers of 
 the parliament of Toulouse, and condemned 
 to death: the minister to be hung, and the 
 three brothers to be beheaded. Two days 
 after, the cruel sentence was executed; and 
 these men were added to the number of those 
 who have not counted their lives dear, when 
 the cause of their Redeemer required the 
 sacrifice: 
 
 " The thousands that, uncheer'd by praise, 
 Have made one offering of their days, 
 For truth for heaven for freedom's sake, 
 Resigned, the bitter cup to take, 
 And silently, in fearless faith, 
 Bowing their noble souls in death." 
 
 " Yesterday," says the writer to whom we 
 have alluded, " the prisoners were executed. 
 All the martyrs behaved with invincible con- 
 stancy and firmness of mind, attended with a 
 certain cheerfulness and serenity, calculated to 
 excite the highest admiration. They finished 
 their days like true saints and Christian heroes. 
 15 
 
170 THE MARTYRS OP TOULOUSE. 
 
 As soon as they heard their sentence read, 
 they beheld each other steadfastly, and said, 
 6 Let us then die, since things are so; and let 
 us pray God to accept the sacrifice of our 
 lives, that we are now to make, for Him and for 
 the truth? Upon which, M. Rochette prayed 
 aloud, in a most pathetic manner. They then 
 embraced two fellow-prisoners, who were con- 
 demned to the galleys; and affectionately con- 
 gratulated another, who had been set at liberty. 
 In all their conduct, they seemed full of the 
 Spirit of God. Monsieur Billos, one of the 
 secretaries, who was present at the first scene 
 of their trial, never speaks of it without shed- 
 ding tears. The martyrs were next commit- 
 ted to the care of the four principal cures, 
 whom the attorney-general sent to attempt 
 their conversion. But the expostulations of 
 these ecclesiastics produced as little effect as 
 those of the Abbe Couterai, who had been in 
 prison every day, during three months; and 
 had been often empowered, by the magistrates, 
 to offer them their lives and their liberty, on 
 condition of their embracing the Romish reli- 
 gion: an offer which they rejected without 
 hesitation. M. Rochette begged of these 
 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 171 
 
 ecclesiastics, that they would put an end to 
 their useless importunities, and not continue 
 to trouble him and his friends in their last 
 moments, but suffer them to die in peace; ex- 
 pressing, at the same time, his grateful sense 
 of their well-meant zeal. One of the cures 
 threatened him and his companions with dam- 
 nation: upon which, the worthy minister, 
 with his usual serenity, replied, ' that they 
 were going to appear before a more equitable 
 Judge, who shed his blood for their salvation: 
 at the same time exhorting his fellow-martyrs 
 to fortitude and perseverance. When the 
 curts interrupted him with accusations of 
 heresy, and with pompous discourses about 
 the power of granting remission of sins, which 
 was lodged in the church, he told them that 
 the Protestant religion acknowledged no such 
 power, nor looked for the pardon of sins from 
 any other source but the mercy of God, in 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 " Being, about two o'clock, delivered from 
 the importunity of the priests, the pious mar- 
 tyrs spent these precious moments in prayer 
 and praise to God, who enabled them to 
 behold death without terror; and encouraged 
 
172 THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 
 
 each other to persevere unto the end. So 
 calm and undisturbed was the state of their 
 minds, that they did not shed a single tear. 
 This was not the case with the spectators of 
 this moving scene: while these good men 
 thanked the sentinels and keepers of the 
 prison for the kind treatment they had expe- 
 rienced from them, and asked pardon if they 
 had given them any offence, the latter burst 
 into tears. The minister, perceiving one of 
 the soldiers weeping more bitterly than the 
 rest, addressed him thus: 'My good friend, 
 are you not ready and willing to die for your 
 king? Why then do you pity me, who am 
 going to death for God ?' 
 
 " The priests returned about one o'clock in 
 the afternoon, and were entreated to retire, 
 but to no purpose. One of them said, ' It is 
 from a concern for your salvation that we come 
 here/ Upon which, the youngest of the 
 three brothers replied, < If you were at Ge- 
 neva, at the point of death from disease, (for 
 there nobody is put to death on account of 
 religion,) would you choose to be teazed and 
 importuned, in your last moments, by four or 
 five Protestant ministers, under the pretence 
 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 173 
 
 of zeal for your salvation ? Do, therefore, as 
 you would be done unto.' This mild remon- 
 strance was insufficient to put an end to the 
 vain attempts of these blind zealots, who, each 
 furnished with a crucifix, which they pre- 
 sented, from time to time, to the prisoners, 
 continued to perplex them in the most offen- 
 sive manner. 
 
 "< Speak/ said one of the noblemen, < of 
 Him who died for our sins, and rose again for 
 our justification, and we will listen to you; 
 but do not trouble us with your vain super- 
 stitions/ 
 
 "About two o'clock, the martyrs were led 
 out of the prison, and placed in a wagon with 
 the four cures, and thus they were conducted 
 to the gate of the cathedral. Here the minis- 
 ter was desired to step out of the wagon, and 
 to ask pardon of God, the king, and the law, 
 in that he had wickedly persevered in per- 
 forming the functions of his religion, in oppo- 
 sition to the royal edicts. This he twice 
 refused to do. He was told that this was no 
 more than a formality. To which he an- 
 swered, 'that he neither would acknowledge, 
 or submit to, any formality that was contrary 
 15* 
 
174 THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 
 
 to the dictates of his conscience/ At length, 
 however, being obliged, by force and violent 
 treatment, to leave the wagon, he fell on his 
 knees, and expressed himself thus: ' I humbly 
 ask of Almighty God the pardon of all my 
 sins, in the full persuasion of obtaining the 
 remission of them, through the blood of 
 Christ. With respect to the king, I have no 
 pardon to ask of him, having never offended 
 him. I always honoured and loved him, as 
 the father of my country. I always have 
 been to him a good and faithful subject; and, 
 of this, my judges themselves appeared to be 
 fully convinced. I always recommended to 
 my flock, patience, obedience, and submission. 
 If I have acted in opposition to the laws that 
 prohibited our religious assemblies, I did this 
 in obedience to the laws of Him who is the 
 King of kings. With respect to public jus- 
 tice, I have nothing to say, but this, that I 
 never offended it; and I most earnestly pray 
 that God will vouchsafe to pardon my judges/ 
 " This was the only confession that the offi- 
 cers of justice, after much importunity, could 
 obtain from M. Rochette. No such acknow- 
 ledgment was required of the three noblemen 
 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 175 
 
 who suffered with him, as, by the laws of 
 France, it is never demanded of such as are 
 beheaded. They were, however, conducted 
 with M. Rochette to the place of execution. 
 The place usually appointed for the execution 
 of criminals was not chosen upon this occa- 
 sion; one less spacious was appointed, that 
 this glorious instance of martyrdom might 
 have the fewer spectators. All the streets 
 which led to it were lined with soldiers, and 
 that on account of the pretended apprehen- 
 sion of a rescue. But this they could only 
 fear from the Roman Catholics, (on whom the 
 shedding, thus deliberately, the blood of the 
 innocent, seemed to make a living impres- 
 sion,) for the small number of Protestant 
 families in this city, filled with consternation 
 at this unrighteous sentence, had shut them- 
 selves up in their houses, where they were 
 wholly employed in sending up their prayers 
 and lamentations to Heaven, while this terri- 
 ble scene was transacting. 
 
 " In the streets which led to the place of 
 execution, the windows were hired at very 
 high prices. Wherever the martyrs passed, 
 they were attended with the tears and lamen- 
 
176 THE MARTYRS OP TOULOUSE. 
 
 tations of the spectators. One would have 
 thought, by the expressions of sorrow, that 
 Toulouse was, all on a sudden, become a Pro- 
 testant city. 
 
 " The cure of Faur could not bear the affect- 
 ing spectacle: yielding to the power of sym- 
 pathy, and perhaps of conscience, he fainted 
 away; and one of his vicars was sent to supply 
 his place. 
 
 " The circumstance that was most affecting, 
 and which made every eye melt with tears, 
 was the inexpressible serenity that appeared 
 in the countenance of the clergyman. His 
 graceful mien, the resignation and fortitude he 
 evinced, his blooming youth, in short, every 
 thing in his conduct, character, and appear- 
 ance, interested all ranks of people in his 
 favour, and rendered his fate the subject of 
 universal grief. This grief was augmented 
 by one particular circumstance; it being gene- 
 rally known that M. Rochette might have 
 saved his life by an untruth; but refused to 
 retain it at so dear a rate. For, as his being a 
 minister was the crime he stood charged with, 
 and as there were no complaints made against 
 him, no advertisements describing his person, 
 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 177 
 
 nor any witness to prove his pastoral character, 
 he had only to deny his being a minister, and 
 his life would have been saved. But he chose 
 rather to lose his life than to deny his pro- 
 fession. 
 
 " He was executed the first of the four: and, 
 in the face of death, he exhorted his compa- 
 nions, and sang those sublime verses of the 
 11 8th Psalm: 
 
 ' This is the day which the Lord hath made; 
 
 We will rejoice and be glad in it. 
 
 God is the Lord who hath showed us light : 
 
 Bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar. 
 
 Thou art my God, and I will praise thee ; 
 Thou art my God, and I will exalt thee. 
 O, give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good ; 
 For his mercy endureth for ever.' 
 
 " When the executioner, among others, con- 
 jured him to die a Roman Catholic, the 
 minister answered him in this gentle manner: 
 ' Judge, friend, which is the best religion, that 
 which persecutes, or that which is persecuted/ 
 He added, that his grandfather and one of his 
 uncles had died for the pure religion of the 
 gospel, and that he should be the third martyr 
 of his family. 
 
178 THE MARTYRS OP TOULOUSE. 
 
 " Two of the three gentlemen who suffered 
 with him, beheld him tied to the gibbet with 
 wonderful intrepidity; but the third covered 
 his eyes with his hand, that he might not wit- 
 ness so horrible a spectacle. 
 
 " The commissioners of the parliament, and 
 the deputies of the courts of justice, discover- 
 ed, by their pensive looks and downcast eyes, 
 how deeply they were affected on the occa- 
 sion. The three brothers tenderly embraced 
 each other, and mutually recommended their 
 departing souls to the Father of spirits. Their 
 heads were struck off at three blows. When 
 the scene was finished, the spectators returned 
 to their homes in solemn silence, scarcely able 
 to persuade themselves that the world could 
 present such a spectacle of magnanimity, and 
 such an instance of cruelty as they had just 
 witnessed." 
 
 Such is the affecting narrative of the last 
 scene in the lives of these devoted men, heroes 
 of the faith, and true soldiers of Christ, who 
 fainted not in the day of battle. Blessed is 
 that church, however persecuted, which has 
 such faithful and devoted ministers; and high- 
 ly honoured the land, whose nobles are filled 
 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 179 
 
 with such a spirit: their record is on high, 
 though their names may be unknown on earth. 
 
 '* The kings of old have shrine and tomb, 
 In many a minster's haughty gloom ; 
 And green, along the ocean's side, 
 The mounds arise where heroes died : 
 But show me, on thy flowery breast, 
 Earth, where thy hidden martyrs rest ! 
 
 The still, sad glory of their name 
 Hallows no mountain into fame; 
 No, not a tree the record bears, 
 Of their deep thoughts and lonely prayers. 
 So let it be ! like him whose clay 
 Deep buried by his Maker lay, 
 They sleep in secret ; but their sod, 
 Unknown to man, is marked of God." 
 
180 
 
 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 WALDENSES OF THE PIEMONT VALLEYS. 
 
 AMONG the sufferers in this cause, were mul- 
 titudes of the Waldenses, or Vaudois. (See 
 Appendix, Note 3.) These interesting people 
 were the descendants of that apostolic church, 
 planted in the Piemontese Alps, at an early 
 period of the Christian era, and preserved, 
 through the dark ages, uncontaminated by the 
 errors of the church of Rome. She could 
 not, with any justice, term them pretendu 
 reforme, for they were not, like other Protes- 
 tants, dissenters from her communion, who 
 sought to reform that which had been so 
 wofully marred by her idolatry and supersti- 
 tion; they were the remains of a pure, evan- 
 
THE WALDENSES OP PIEMONT. 181 
 
 gelical church, which existed long before the 
 church of Rome was in being.* 
 
 Buried in the seclusion of their own remote 
 valleys, and hemmed in by almost inaccessi- 
 ble mountains, they were long little known to 
 the rest of Europe, A lowly and unambitious 
 race, they lived in almost patriarchal habits of 
 pastoral simplicity, content to feed their flocks 
 and herds, and occupy themselves in the hum- 
 blest callings: yet, ever and anon, a voice was 
 heard from amid their Alpine recesses, pro- 
 testing against the enormities of the church of 
 Rome, and avowing the determination of the 
 mountaineers to remain firm in the faith which 
 their ancestors had professed from time imme- 
 morial. 
 
 Their firmness did not fail to bring down 
 on them the wrath and indignation of the 
 power they had so courageously opposed. 
 
 * " Long before the church of Rome, (that new sect, as 
 Claude, Bishop of Turin, in 840, called it,) stretched forth 
 its arms to stifle, in its Antoean embrace, the independent 
 flocks of the Great Shepherd, the ancestors of the Wal- 
 denses were worshipping God in the hill countries of Pie- 
 mont, as their posterity now worship him." GILLY. 
 (See Appendix, Note 4.) 
 
 16 
 
182 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 Many edicts were issued, aiming at the over- 
 throw and complete destruction of the Wal- 
 denses. So cruel were the persecutions ex- 
 cited against them, by their enemies of the 
 Latin church, that it has been forcibly said, 
 "the lintels of the Vatican were sprinkled 
 with the blood of the Waldenses." They were 
 afflicted and oppressed, chased from one re- 
 treat to another, and harassed by a succession 
 of tyrannical laws, all intended to trample 
 them in the dust. But this daughter of the 
 primitive church, though her head was bowed 
 down, and she was tossed with tempests, was 
 not thus to be destroyed by her adversaries. 
 This " little lamp, kept alive, and shining 
 through the middle ages," as Gilly beautifully 
 expresses it, was not to be extinguished by 
 the blast of persecution. Again and again 
 were the Waldenses enabled to withstand the 
 most formidable attacks of their enemies, and 
 after much suffering, and loss of life and pro- 
 perty, permitted to come forth, once more, 
 from their rocky fastnesses, and return to their 
 homes in the valleys. No less than sixty- 
 eight severe enactments were put in force 
 against them, between the years 1561 and 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 183 
 
 1686. Extermination was the aim of the op- 
 pressors, and they did indeed cruelly waste 
 and destroy life and property; but a little 
 remnant still remained, which their utmost 
 efforts could not subdue. "Blind must he 
 be," observes Mr. Gilly, " who does not dis- 
 cern the finger of God in the preservation of 
 the Vaudois. There is nothing like it in the 
 history of man. The tempest of persecution 
 has raged against them for seven hundred 
 years, and yet it has not swept them away; 
 but there they are, in the land of their fore- 
 fathers, because the Most High gave unto the 
 men of the valley stout hearts and a resolute 
 spirit; because he made them patient of hun- 
 ger, and thirst, and nakedness, and all manner 
 of affliction. How could a handful of moun- 
 taineers escape from the vengeance that threat- 
 ened their total overthrow, and achieved the 
 downfall of their brethren in other parts? Be- 
 cause it was the will of God that they should 
 be left as a remnant; because it was written 
 in the counsels of heaven, that they should 
 continue a miracle of Divine grace and provi- 
 dence." Such were the inhabitants of the 
 hill country of Piemont 
 
184 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 Deep hid within the Alpine vale, 
 Their flocks Waldensian shepherds fed ; 
 Or breasting many a stormy gale, 
 Along the mountain-heights they sped : 
 Fearless, where all would fear beside, 
 Scaled the steep cliff, or stemmed the tide ; 
 Seeking, on high, the eagle's nest, 
 Or the wild chamois' place of rest. 
 
 Men of the valleys far away, 
 In sheep-cotes and in vineyards found ; 
 Though left 'mid savage wilds to stray, 
 How were your days with blessings crowned! 
 What joy your lowly spirits filled ! 
 For He whose word the tempest stilled, 
 Poured peace upon the shepherd's breast, 
 And gave unto the weary rest. 
 
 The erring world in darkness slept, 
 And bade the light no longer shine ; 
 But still your fathers' faith ye kept, 
 And light was on your mountaki shrine, 
 Still burnt the lamp's undying flame, 
 Though fierce and fearful tempests came ; 
 The angel of the Lord was nigh, 
 Tempering each blast that hurried by. 
 
 Sons of the valley sainted band, 
 When men to Baal bowed the knee, 
 Ye 'gainst the mighty made a stand, 
 Unquailing met the stern decree, 
 The banner of the cross unfurled, 
 And bore it 'mid the opposing world 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 185 
 
 Faithful among the faithless found ; 
 Your home a spot of hallowed ground. 
 
 Thus, at a period when the fatal influence 
 of the church of Rome seemed fast spreading 
 over the whole of Christendom, and the kings 
 of the earth, drank freely of the cup of her 
 abominations, there was a simple and obscure 
 people for whom she mingled her spiced wine 
 in vain. They turned away from her tempta- 
 tions to drink the pure water of truth, at that 
 fountain-head, from whence it had flowed 
 down to their fathers, from the apostolic age. 
 
 Some mournful and desponding servant of 
 the Lord, who saw himself surrounded by 
 multitudes, led astray by the pomp and glare 
 of Roman Catholic worship, and the sophis- 
 try of her priests, might, perhaps, have been 
 ready to say with the prophet, " I only am 
 left of those who follow thee in the faith of 
 their fathers." 
 
 What would have been the joy of such a 
 one, could he have been transported to these 
 valleys, and there beheld, in the annual synod 
 of the Waldensian pastors, a strong evidence 
 that there were still many who were firm in 
 
 their allegiance to a purer faith! How would 
 16* 
 
186 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 his heart have glowed within him, could he 
 have united in the prayers of these apostolic 
 men, and sat among them, while they took 
 counsel together! These assemblies were 
 usually held in autumn; but in times of perse- 
 cution they were deferred till the depth of 
 winter, in order that the snows, rendering 
 their retreats almost inaccessible, might se- 
 cure them from the observation of their watch- 
 ful enettiies. Here they not only appointed 
 to their stations those who were to labour in 
 the seclusion of their native valley, but also 
 selected those whose office it was to go into 
 other countries, to visit their brethren, scat- 
 tered up and down in various lands, who 
 were unable to obtain pastors from any other 
 quarter. 
 
 It was in the midst of the most imposing 
 scenes of nature that the Waldensian pastors 
 met for these holy purposes. In the place of 
 splendid edifices and the magnificent works of 
 man, they had the eternal hills around them, 
 and scenes of grandeur and sublimity beyond 
 the reach of art. Unmindful of the evils 
 which surrounded them, and braving persecu- 
 tion, reproach, and death, they sent out from 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OP PIEMONT. 187 
 
 these synods, messengers whose feet were 
 " beautiful upon the mountains," to preach the 
 glad tidings of the Gospel, and publish peace 
 in distant lands. And these missionaries went 
 forth to do their Master's work, as sheep 
 in the midst of wolves, not knowing what 
 might befall them; but sure that, in all places, 
 the promise of the Good Shepherd of Israel 
 would be verified : " Lo, I am with you to 
 the end of the world. " 
 
 Thus was the torch of truth, kindled at the 
 mountain-altar of the Vaudois, carried into 
 every part of Europe; and, long before the 
 light of the Reformation arose, here and there 
 the rays of this church of the wilderness were 
 secretly gladdening the dark places of the 
 earth. When the Reformation burst forth, 
 like a glorious sun, the scattered beams of this 
 primitive lamp were scarcely discernible; and 
 all united in hailing the dawn of that day of 
 fresh illumination. The light spread; and, by 
 and by, it was forgotten that, in the midst of 
 contumely and reproach, the fathers of the 
 Alpine church had watched by the altar, 
 through the night of superstition. It was for- 
 gotten that, while others, like the church of 
 
188 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 Ephesus, had fallen and left their first love, 
 they had laboured and not fainted, been tried 
 and found faithful unto death; and therefore 
 their candlestick was not removed out of its 
 place. It was forgotten that, in their firm 
 adherence to the faith of their fathers, they 
 had left behind them a wonderful and deeply 
 interesting proof, that a church, uncorrupted 
 by the errors of papacy, has ever continued to 
 exist in Europe, from the time the light of 
 gospel truth first shone upon it. This proof, 
 the Roman Catholics would gladly take from 
 us, if they could; but we will not relinquish 
 that which, more than any other argument, 
 overthrows their claim to the universality of 
 their church in past ages. Surely, every Pro- 
 testant owes a debt to the Vaudois: a debt, 
 which he who has neither silver nor gold may 
 repay, by fervent prayer for the still oppressed 
 and feeble remnant of this church; and which 
 he who has wealth and influence may dis- 
 charge, in many ways, by pleading their 
 cause, and contributing, so far as in him lies, 
 towards the supply of their necessities, tem- 
 poral and spiritual.* 
 
 * Their countryman, Count del Pozzo, has pleaded their 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 189 
 
 " Remember," said the late moderator, 
 Peyrani, to some English visiters, " Remem- 
 ber that you are indebted to us for your eman- 
 cipation from papal thraldom. We led the 
 way. We stood in the front rank; and 
 against us the first thunderbolts of Rome were 
 fulminated. The baying of the blood-hounds 
 of the inquisition was heard in our valleys, 
 before you knew its name. They hunted 
 down some of our ancestors, and pursued 
 others from glen to glen, and over rock and 
 mountain, till they obliged them to take refuge 
 in foreign countries. A few of these wan- 
 derers penetrated as far as Languedoc; and 
 from them was derived the Albigenses, or 
 heretics of Albi. The province of Guienne 
 afforded shelter to the persecuted Albigenses. 
 Guienne was then in your possession. From 
 an English province, our doctrines found 
 
 cause in a work entitled, " The complete Emancipation of 
 the Protestant Vaudois advocated." In this work he 
 states, that no Protestants now exist in Europe, in so 
 degraded a condition as the Vaudois. 
 
 For a fuller detail of the present depressed state of the 
 Vaudois, and their many claims on us, see Mr. Gilly's 
 admirable work, "Waldensian Researches." Published 
 1831. 
 
190 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 their way into England; and your Wickliffe 
 preached nothing more than what had been 
 advanced by the ministers of our valleys, four 
 hundred years before." 
 
 Such are the peculiar claims of the Wal- 
 denses to our notice. 
 
 We have now to turn to a period in their 
 history, when a war of extermination against 
 the peaceful inhabitants of the valleys was 
 resolved on by the great ones of the earth. 
 
 Louis XIV. stimulated by those who sway- 
 ed his counsels, having driven into exile, as 
 we have seen, many of the most faithful of his 
 subjects, by the decree of revocation, at length 
 determined to send the emissaries of persecu- 
 tion into the valleys of Piemont. The valle} 7 8 
 of Pragela and Perosa were the more especial 
 objects of attack. Victor Amadeus, duke of 
 Savoy, who was their lawful ruler, was stimu- 
 lated, not to say compelled, to assist in their 
 destruction. He was, at first, unwilling to 
 fall into the plans of the king of France. But 
 when the French minister hinted that his 
 royal master, if opposed by the duke, would 
 undertake to carry the measure into effect, 
 with an army of fourteen thousand men, and 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 191 
 
 would afterwards retain the valleys, inhabited 
 by these heretics, as a recompense for his 
 trouble, he was afraid to oppose the wishes of 
 so powerful a neighbour any longer. He 
 therefore issued an edict, by which the Vau- 
 dois were commanded, under pain of death, to 
 raze their churches, conform to the Catholic 
 faith, and submit their children to the Romish 
 priests for baptism. Distressed and alarmed 
 at so cruel a decree, which included a multi- 
 tude of untold grievances, these poor people 
 tried, by earnest supplications, to ward off the 
 blow; and finding such means unavailing, they 
 prepared to defend themselves by force of 
 arms. For awhile the men of the valleys 
 made a successful stand against their adversa- 
 ries; and after having gained great advanta- 
 ges, they were prevailed on to lay down their 
 arms, in the hope that their enemies, having 
 seen their strength and firmness, might now 
 be willing to come to terms with them. In 
 this they were bitterly disappointed. No 
 sooner had they submitted themselves, than 
 they saw what cause they had to repent their 
 ill-founded confidence. Fourteen thousand of 
 their people were made prisoners; and, of 
 
192 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 these, eleven thousand perished in thirteen 
 different prisons: only three thousand obtained 
 their liberty, and these were driven into ban- 
 ishment, and their property confiscated. How 
 unjustly they were thus visited by their ru- 
 lers, appears by the remonstrances they sub- 
 sequently made to the duke of Savoy, through 
 his minister, the marquis of Parelle. 
 
 " The subjects of the Valley," say they, 
 " have been in possession of their estates from 
 time immemorial; having received them, by 
 inheritance, from their ancestors. 
 
 " They have at all times paid the imposts 
 and subsidies which it has been his royal high- 
 ness's pleasure to require. 
 
 " They have, in all commotions of the 
 estate, rigidly obeyed his royal highness's 
 orders. 
 
 " At the time when the last persecution was 
 instituted against his faithful subjects, there 
 was not one criminal process throughout the 
 valleys. Each Vaudois was dwelling peace- 
 ably in his own home, rendering to God the 
 worship which is his due, and unto Caesar the 
 things which are Caesar's. 
 
 They add, that notwithstanding their fide- 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 193 
 
 lity, this people have found themselves, after 
 much suffering and imprisonment, " scattered 
 wanderers through the world." 
 
 This despoiled and afflicted remnant of a 
 once numerous people, driven into other coun- 
 tries, still hovered on the borders of their 
 native land, anxious to return to the homes 
 which had been brightened by domestic bless- 
 ings, to the vineyards they had planted, the 
 flocks they had fed, and above all, to those 
 sacred scenes where they and their fathers^had, jr' 
 served the Lord, in the exercise of that pure 
 faith, on account of which they were now 
 driven into exile. 
 
 " Your excellency," they say, in addressing 
 the minister of the duke of Savoy, " will not 
 deem it strange that we should have Tiad at 
 heart, a desire to return to our native land. 
 Alas! the birds, who have no reason, return, 
 in their season, to their nests and dwelling- 
 places, nor does any one hinder them; but this 
 liberty is now refused to men, created in the 
 image of God/' 
 
 The opportunity so ardently desired pre- 
 sented itself at no distant period. The prince 
 of Orange, a firm friend to the Vaudois, as the 
 17 
 
194 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS,' 
 
 leader of the Protestant cause, was become, 
 by the revolution of 1688, king of England; 
 and a war soon broke out between him and 
 his Catholic majesty of France. This was 
 considered very favourable to the Vaudois, by 
 diverting the attention of Louis XIV. from 
 their affairs, and giving him full occupation in 
 matters more nearly affecting the interests of 
 his own kingdom. They resolved to take 
 advantage of the want of vigilance which these 
 circumstances occasioned ; and after many dif- 
 ficulties, a body of about eight hundred men 
 set forth, under an able leader, and actually 
 forced their way through mountain defiles, 
 over almost inaccessible alps, and in the face 
 of their enemies, resumed the possession of 
 those beloved valleys, from which they had 
 been so unjustly driven two years before. 
 
 The story of their trials, under Victor 
 Amadeus; their perilous adventures, and hair- 
 breadth escapes; their wonderful exploits, and 
 almost miraculous preservation, has been 
 chronicled by their leader, Henri Arnaud. 
 We refer our readers, for many interesting 
 particulars, to this narrative, translated by 
 Hugh Dyke Acland, Esq. and entitled, " The 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 195 
 
 glorious Recovery of their Valleys, by the 
 Vaudois." 
 
 There are many things connected with this 
 daring enterprise which we cannot justify. 
 While we feel intense interest in the struggles 
 of this oppressed people, and earnestly desire 
 their deliverance from the cruel bondage to 
 which they were subject, we are compelled to 
 admit that they, too, in these latter days, 
 exhibit proofs that they have fallen from their 
 first estate. 
 
 In fact, though the Vaudois are still a deep- 
 ly interesting people, they are not what they 
 once were. Their light burns more dimly 
 than it once did. In too many cases their 
 fruitful field is become a wilderness, on which 
 the refreshing dews and fertilizing rain no 
 longer descend, as in other days, when it 
 blossomed and brought forth fruit in abun- 
 dance. But are we, therefore, to turn coldly 
 away from this long-honoured church? No, 
 rather let us unite in the prayer, that as the 
 former rain was poured freely on her, so may 
 the latter rain descend, and make her desert 
 as the garden of Eden. " Ask ye of the Lord 
 rain, in the time of the latter rain; so the 
 
196 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 Lord shall make bright clouds, and give them 
 showers of rain, to every one grass in the 
 field." Zech. x. 1. 
 
 It may be truly said, that the whole of the 
 country where these poor people dwelt has 
 been marked by the footsteps of the oppres- 
 sor; and many a spot still bears record of 
 harrowing tales of cruelty and desolation. In 
 the chain of mountains which rises behind the 
 valley of Pragela, separating it from that of 
 St. Martin, one lofty and picturesque peak 
 towers above the rest. It is called the Col 
 Albergian, or Albergo; and derives its name 
 from one of those fearful scenes in the Wal- 
 densian history, to which we cannot turn with- 
 out horror. Four hundred and thirty-two 
 years have passed away, since the inhabitants 
 of that secluded valley saw the solemn rejoic- 
 ings of the day on which they met to com- 
 memorate the nativity of their Lord and Savi- 
 our, broken in upon by an attack from their 
 relentless adversaries of the Romish church. 
 Surprised and overwhelmed by numbers, they 
 were compelled to fly from their dwellings, 
 and take refuge in caves and mountain-hol- 
 lows. Ill defended from the severities of the 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 197 
 
 season, and scarcely finding even a partial 
 shelter from the piercing winter-blast, the suf- 
 ferings of that night can be but imperfectly 
 imagined. When day dawned, eighty infants, 
 and many of their mothers, were found dead 
 among the rocks; and many others so benumb- 
 ed with cold, that they never recovered the 
 use of their limbs. When their oppressors 
 heard the tale of anguish, no compunctious 
 visitings seem to have been awakened in their 
 hearts; but, turning the fatal catastrophe into 
 an unfeeling jest, they called the mountain the 
 JUbergo, or lodging-house of the heretics. 
 
 Truly, the dark places of the earth are full 
 of cruelty; and the heart is constrained to 
 inquire, when shall the light be shed abroad 
 without a cloud? When will the oppressor 
 cease in the land, and all rest in one fold, 
 under one Shepherd? Well may we plead for 
 the hastening of that glorious day ! Well may 
 we pray, " thy kingdom come!" 
 
 If we are asked to what end these records 
 of other times are presented to the notice of 
 the youthful reader, we would say, in reply, 
 that such narratives appear to us to be fraught 
 with instruction. Perhaps there is no part of 
 17* 
 
198 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 our literature, with the exception of that 
 which is especially characterised as sacred, 
 more valuable than history and biography. 
 So competent a judge of the matter as Lord 
 Bacon observes, when speaking of the compa- 
 rative merits of different kinds of knowledge, 
 that "history makes men wise.*' But we do 
 not read it to the purposes of wisdom, if we 
 gather nothing from it but the barren know- 
 ledge of facts. Showing, as it does, what man 
 is, under the varied circumstances of life, and 
 exhibiting, moreover, the operations of His 
 hand, who, unseen, directeth the movements 
 of the world, it is meet that we should dwell 
 thoughtfully on its pages. Herein we may 
 often trace undoubted evidence, that although, 
 for a time, violence and wrath may obtain the 
 mastery, the Most High does indeed "rule in 
 the kingdom of men." To our limited views, 
 man, for a season, may seem to prevail; but 
 He who formed the earth, seeth "the end 
 from the beginning, and, from ancient times, 
 the things that are not yet done." While the 
 workers of iniquity believe their success is 
 sure, and confidently cry, " Ah ! ah ! so would 
 we have it;" a voice they heed not, is saying, 
 " My counsel shall stand, and I will do all 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 199 
 
 my pleasure." " I have spoken it, I will also 
 bring it to pass; I have purposed it, I will also 
 doit." "I am God, and there is none else; 
 I am God, and there is none like me/' Isa. 
 xlvi. 9, 10, 11. 
 
 Not the least important feature in the narra- 
 tive before us, is the timely and almost mi- 
 raculous assistance, often afforded to the suf- 
 ferers in the season of extremity. What 
 ground does it give for strong confidence and 
 abiding faith in the Good Shepherd of his 
 people, who hath thus manifested himself to 
 be a very present help in trouble! In the 
 midst of spiritual famine, he feedeth them 
 with the bread of life, and prepares a table 
 for them in the presence of their enemies. 
 Though he may seem to leave them awhile to 
 stray in the wilderness, through paths they 
 have not known, yet, in the end, they will 
 clearly discern, that he has led them " by a 
 right way, to a city of habitation." 
 
 The conduct of many of the subjects of 
 these memoirs, their patience under persecu- 
 tion, their faith, and meekness, and charity, 
 make them ensamples to the flock of Christ, 
 in every age. Whatever our appointed lot, as 
 believers, in the present day may be, may we 
 
200 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 partake of the same spirit, and be made wil- 
 ling, if needs be, like them, to suffer the loss 
 of all things, so that we may " win Christ, and 
 be found in him; "counting all things but 
 loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of 
 Christ Jesus, our Lord." 
 
 While the annals of past days lead us to 
 contemplate the sufferings and privations of 
 others, may ardent feelings of gratitude be 
 kindled in our breasts for benefits, which are 
 now become so common, that we almost forget 
 they are such as our forefathers would have 
 considered it a signal mercy to enjoy. The 
 unrestrained study of the Bible, intercourse 
 with our fellow-christians, and the unfettered 
 exercise of religious worship in public and 
 private, are among the many high privileges 
 which should daily fill us with thankfulness, 
 and make this the inquiry of every heart, 
 " What shall I render unto the Lord for all 
 his benefits?" 
 
 It is but too much the order of the present 
 day, to talk of our troubles and perplexities; 
 and they are manifold: but it were surely 
 right that we should sometimes turn away 
 from these, and count our blessings. Were 
 this more our practice, our spirits would 
 
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 201 
 
 oftener be in unison with the Psalmist's; and 
 we too should be enabled to say, "Return 
 unto thy rest, my soul! for the Lord hath 
 dealt bountifully with thee." 
 
 Religious persecution is a fearful and dis- 
 tressing theme, and so many evils are con- 
 nected with it, that we may well pray to be 
 preserved from a repetition of its trials. Pain- 
 ful indeed is the consideration, that such 
 scenes as we have described, should ever be 
 exhibited among professing Christians. " How 
 long, Lord!" must be the cry of every 
 heart, duly penetrated with this mournful 
 subject. " When shall all bitterness and 
 wrath, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put 
 away, with all malice?" and Christian breth- 
 ren, " be kind to one another, tender-hearted, 
 forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's 
 sake, hath forgiven us?" When shall the 
 blessed day arrive, when the promises shall 
 be fulfilled: "I will turn to the people a pure 
 language, that they may all call upon the name 
 of the Lord, to serve him with one consent," 
 Zeph. iii. 9. and " I will give them one heart 
 and one way," Jer. xxxii. 39. "and there shall 
 be one fold, and one shepherd ." John, x. 16. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 V 
 
 NOTE 1. 
 The War of the Cevennes. 
 
 AFTER suffering deeply from the persecuting spirit 
 of their powerful enemies for a long period, the 
 people of the Cevennes were roused to stand up in 
 their own defence. Their reasons for so doing 
 are set forth in a paper published by their party, 
 entitled, "The Manifesto of the Cevennois; show- 
 ing the true Reasons which have constrained the 
 Inhabitants of the Cevennes to take up Arms." 
 This paper was addressed to the Dauphin. After 
 alluding to the miseries they had endured by per- 
 secutions of every kind, they proceed to say, 
 " After they had done us all these mischiefs, the 
 Edict of Nantes was repealed. In the execution 
 of the Revocation of this Edict, they demolished 
 our churches, and banished our ministers out of 
 the kingdom for ever, continuing to us a thousand 
 mischiefs, under divers pretexts. All these dread- 
 ful forms of persecution astonished the Cevennois, 
 
APPENDIX. 203 
 
 who had none to comfort them. Fear caused 
 some of them to hide themselves in woods and 
 dens ; and others endeavoured to flee out of the 
 kingdom, that they might set their lives and con- 
 sciences at liberty, according to the precept of the 
 gospel ; * if they persecute you in one city, flee 
 unto another.' But the passages were so well 
 guarded to hinder the flight of these poor people, 
 that the greater part of them were taken and sent 
 to the galleys. They that fled from the city, were 
 also taken and locked up in prisons, which were 
 soon filled with these poor persecuted Protestants. 
 All these cruel usages gave us cause enough to 
 think of our defence. Nevertheless, we have 
 borne all these terrible sufferings with patience, 
 that we might not kindle a civil war in the king- 
 dom, and shed the blood of our countrymen, in 
 hope that God would touch the hearts of our ene- 
 mies, and make them sensible of the injustice of 
 such inhuman persecutions." They go on to state 
 that they kept themselves in retirement, withdraw- 
 ing into woods and mountains, concealing them- 
 selves in dens and caves, and assembling in num- 
 bers only for the purposes of worship and religious 
 instruction; and then unarmed, and with the ut- 
 most quietness and order. "In these assemblies," 
 they say, " we read the word of God, we sung 
 psalms, and we prayed for the king and the king- 
 
204 APPENDIX. 
 
 dom ; nothing could be more just, nor more inno- 
 cent. But the priests and friars having notice of 
 it, caused yet more dragoons and other troops to 
 be sent into the Cevennes, which they placed in 
 ambuscade, in the places through which those that 
 were of the assemblies were to pass on their return. 
 They seized them, and cast them into prison; 
 condemned some of both sexes to be hanged, and 
 others to be carried away, the men to the galleys, 
 the women to the nunneries. And if they happen- 
 ed to find the place where they were assembled, 
 they fired upon them without mercy, and without 
 distinction of sex or age." It was after the occur- 
 rence of a scene of this sort, that the first rising of 
 the Protestants in the Cevennes took place, twenty 
 years subsequent to the commencement of the per- 
 secution. 
 
 We pretend not to justify much that occurred 
 among the Protestants of the Cevennes, and other 
 parts of France, at this period of their history. 
 The details of those events serve to show how 
 bitter and evil a thing religious persecution is, by 
 manifesting some of its worst fruits, both in the 
 oppressors and the oppressed. 
 
 The excess of persecution can never be admitted 
 as a sufficient plea for the deviation of the perse- 
 cuted from the paths of uprightness. The promise 
 is, " God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be 
 
APPENDIX. 205 
 
 tempted above that ye are able; but will, with the 
 temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye 
 may be able to bear it." 1 Cor. x. 13. 
 
 Nothing can justify the doing evil that good 
 may come; nevertheless, the baneful effects of 
 persecution, furnish a strong reason why the 
 Christian should guard against the recurrence of 
 such calamitous events, by exercising a watchful 
 care over religious privileges and securing their 
 continuance, as far as human wisdom and foresight, 
 combined with a thankful and prayerful spirit may 
 do it. 
 
 NOTE 2. 
 Galley- Slaves. 
 
 The circumstances of a gallerien's life, v are more 
 fully detailed in the following statement of M. 
 Bion, who appears to have been a chaplain to 
 some of the galleys, at the time of the persecution, 
 and afterwards a convert to the Protestant faith : 
 
 " A galley is a long, flat, single-decked vessel, 
 with oars ; and though it has two masts, yet it is 
 so built as to be unfit to stand against a rough sea; 
 and therefore the sails are, for the most part, use- 
 less. There are five slaves to every oar. One of 
 them is a Turk, who is set at the end to work it 
 18 
 
206 APPENDIX. 
 
 with more strength. There are in all three hun- 
 dred slaves, and one hundred and fifty men, either 
 officers, soldiers, seamen, or servants. There is, 
 at the stern of the galley, a chamber, shaped on 
 the outside like a cradle, belonging to the captain, 
 and solely his at night, but in the day-time, com- 
 mon to the officers and chaplain. All the rest of 
 the crew, (the under officers excepted, who retire 
 under shelter elsewhere,) are exposed~above deck, 
 to the scorching sun by day, and the damps and 
 inclemencies of the night. There is indeed a can- 
 vass suspended by a cable, from head to stern, 
 that affords some little shelter : but the misfortune 
 is, this is only in fair weather ; in the least gale or 
 storm it is taken down, for fear of oversetting the 
 galley. 
 
 " In the two winters of 1703 and 1704, on the 
 coasts of Monaca and Antibes, these poor crea- 
 tures, after hard rowing, could not enjoy the bene- 
 fit of the night, which put an end to the labours of 
 the day, but were exposed to the wind and snow, 
 and all the inconveniences of the season. The 
 only comfort they asked for, was the liberty of 
 smoking; but this was forbidden, on pain of the 
 bastinado. Instead of a bed, they are allowed only 
 a board a foot and a half broad ; and those who 
 have the unfortunate honour of lying near the 
 
APPENDIX. 207 
 
 officers, do not presume to stir so much as a hand, 
 lest their chains should rattle and awake them. 
 
 " It is difficult to give an account of the labours 
 the slaves undergo at sea, especially during a long 
 campaign. The fatigue of tugging at the oar is 
 extraordinary. They must rise to draw the stroke, 
 and fall back again. In all seasons, through the 
 continual and violent motion of their bodies, the 
 perspiration trickles down their harassed limbs; 
 and lest they should fail, as they often do from 
 faintness, there is a gang-board which runs through 
 the middle of the ship, on which are posted three 
 comites, (officers somewhat like a boatswain,) 
 who, whenever they think an oar does not keep 
 time with the rest, unmercifully exercise their 
 power on the man they suspect. The wand with 
 which they strike being long, it is often felt by 
 two or three others, innocent even of being sus- 
 pected. 
 
 " To support their strength during the campaign, 
 every morning each man has his proportion of bis- 
 cuit, and pretty good ; at ten, a porringer of soup, 
 made with oil and peas, or beans, the pulse being 
 often so stale and musty as to be unfit for eating.. 
 I call it soup, according to their phrase, though it 
 does not deserve the name, sometimes being little 
 more than water, with a few peas or beans swim- 
 
208 APPENDIX. 
 
 ming at top. When on duty they have a pitcher 
 of wine, about two-thirds of an English pint, morn- 
 ing and evening. 
 
 " When the badness of the weather prevents the 
 galleys from putting to sea, such slaves as have 
 trades, work in the galley, or learn to knit coarse 
 stockings. The comite, for whose profit they 
 work, pays them about half the usual price, not in 
 money, but food. The poor men who have no 
 trades, clean their comrades' clothes, &c. who, 
 in return, give them some small share of the 
 scanty pittance they earn by working. One may 
 easily imagine that such ill-treatment occasions 
 frequent sickness, and especially with those who, 
 before they were condemned for their heretical 
 opinions, never experienced any hardships ; in that 
 case this is their treatment. 
 
 " There is, in the hold, a close, dark room, the 
 air being admitted only by the scuttle, about two 
 feet square, which is the only passage to it. At 
 each end of the room there is a sort of scaffold, on 
 which the sick are laid promiscuously, without 
 beds or any thing under them. If this is full, and 
 there are any more sick, they are stretched all 
 along the cables; as I saw in 1703, when, being 
 on the coast of Italy in the winter time, we had 
 above three score sick men in this horrid place, 
 dreadfully annoyed with vermin. When the duties 
 
APPENDIX. 209 
 
 of my function called me among them, I was soon 
 covered, it being impossible to preserve myself 
 from the swarms. I was obliged, notwithstand- 
 ing* to make considerable stay in this gloomy 
 abode, to confess such as were ready to expire. 
 The place was so low, that I was obliged to 
 stretch myself by their sides, and often when I 
 was confessing one, another expired just by me. 
 
 " There are in the galley several sorts of peo- 
 ple, under the name of slaves, besides seamen and 
 soldiers ; viz. Turks, criminals, and Protestants. 
 The king buys the Turks to manage the stroke of 
 the oars. They are generally strong men, and the 
 least unfortunate of the whole crew ; not being 
 chained, but wearing a ring on their foot, as a 
 badge of slavery. When they arrive at any port, 
 they have the liberty to trade ; and some of them 
 are worth three or four hundred pounds. They 
 frequently 'send their money to their wives and 
 children ; and, to the shame of Christians be it 
 spoken, there is more charity among them than 
 among many who profess a purer faith. The Pro- 
 testants now in the galleys have been condemned 
 thither at several times. The first were put in 
 after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. The 
 term fixed for the choice of either abjuring their 
 religion or leaving the kingdom, was a fortnight, 
 
 and that on pain of being condemned to the galleys ; 
 18* 
 
210 APPENDIX. 
 
 but this liberty, by many base artifices, was ren- 
 dered useless ; for there were often secret orders, 
 by the contrivance of the clergy, to prevent their 
 embarking, and to hinder the selling of their sub- 
 stance. Their debtors were absolved by their con- 
 fessors, when they denied their debt; and children 
 were forced from their mothers' arms, in hopes 
 that the tenderness of the parent might prevail over 
 the zeal of the Christian. Protestants of all ages 
 and sexes used to flee through deserts and unfre- 
 quented ways, committing their lives to the mercy 
 of the seas, and running innumerable hazards to 
 escape idolatry or martyrdom. Some happily 
 escaped, in spite of the vigilance of the dragoons 
 and bailiffs ; but many fell into their hands, where- 
 by the prisons were filled with Protestants ; and, 
 what was barbarous to the last degree, when there, 
 they were obliged, on pain of the bastinado, to 
 bow before the host, and to hear mass. 
 
 " Monsieur Sabatier, whose charity and zeal 
 those of the primitive Christians, having a little equal 
 money, distributed it to his brethren and fellow- 
 sufferers in the galleys; but the Protestants being 
 watched more narrowly than the rest, he could not 
 do it so secretly but he was discovered, and 
 brought before M. Monniort, intendant of the gal- 
 leys at Marseilles. Being questioned, he did not 
 deny the fact. M. Monmort not only promised 
 
APPENDIX. 211 
 
 him pardon, but a reward, if he would declare who 
 it was that had given him the money. M. Saba- 
 tier modestly replied, that he should be guilty of 
 ingratitude before God and man, if he should bring 
 them into trouble, who had been so charitable ; 
 that his person was at tiieir disposal ; but he de- 
 sired to be excused as to the secret expected from 
 him. The intendant replied, he had a way to 
 make him tell, and that immediately: whereupon 
 he sent for some Turks, who, at his command, 
 stripped Sabatier stark naked, and beat him with 
 ropes' ends and cudgels, during three days, at 
 sundry times. At last, seeing that he was ready 
 to expire, he commanded him to a dungeon. 
 
 " In the year 1703, several Protestants, out of 
 Languedoc and the Ce venues, were put on board 
 our galley. They were narrowly watched; and I 
 was greatly surprised, on Sunday morning, after 
 saying mass on the bancasse, (a table placed so 
 that all the galley may see the priest when he ele- 
 vates the host,) to hear the comite say, he was 
 going to give the Hugonots the bastinado, because 
 they did not kneel, nor show any respect to the 
 mysteries of the mass. The very name of basti- 
 nado terrified me ; and I begged the comite to for- 
 bear till the next Sunday, and that, in the mean 
 time, I would endeavour to convince them of what 
 I then thought their duty and my otvn. Accor- 
 
212 APPENDIX. 
 
 dingly, I used all the means I could possibly think 
 of to that effect; sometimes making use of fair 
 means, giving them victuals, and doing them kind 
 offices ; sometimes using threats, and representing 
 the torments that were designed for them if they 
 persisted : often urging the king's command, and 
 quoting the passage of St. Paul, that he who re- 
 sists the power, resists God.' I had not, even at 
 that time, any desire to oblige them to do any 
 thing against their consciences; but what I did 
 chiefly arose from a motive of pity and tenderness. 
 I could not but admire, at once, both the modesty 
 of their answers, and the greatness of their cou- 
 rage : ' The king,' said they, is, indeed, master 
 of our persons, but not of our consciences/ But 
 at last the dreadful day came, and the comite nar- 
 rowly observed them, to see the fruit of my labours. 
 There were only two out of twenty that bowed the 
 knee to Baal : the rest nobly refused it ; and ac- 
 cordingly were, by the captain's command, pun- 
 ished in the following manner. 
 
 " In order for punishment, every man's chains 
 are taken off, and he is stripped naked, and stretch- 
 ed upon the coursier, (the great gun,) and there so 
 held that he cannot stir ; during which time a hor- 
 rid silence reigns throughout the galley. The 
 victim thus prepared, a Turk is chosen to be the 
 
APPENDIX. 213 
 
 executioner, who, with a tough cudgel, or knotty 
 rope's end, unmercifully strikes the sufferer; and 
 that too, the more willingly, because he thinks it 
 is acceptable to Mahomet. But the most barba- 
 rous of all is, that after the skin is flayed off, the 
 only balsam applied to their wounds is a mixture 
 of salt and vinegar; after which, they are thrown 
 into the hospital I have described. I went thither, 
 after the execution, and could not refrain from tears 
 at the sight of so much barbarity. They quickly 
 perceived it ; and, though scarcely able to speak, 
 thanked me for the compassion I had expressed, 
 and the kindness I had always shown them. I 
 went with the design of administering comfort to 
 them, but was glad to find they were less moved 
 than I was myself. It was wonderful to see with 
 what true Christian patience they bore all their 
 torments ; in the extremities of their pain, never 
 expressing any thing like rage, but imploring the 
 continued assistance of Almighty God." 
 
 NOTE 3. 
 Origin of the term Faudois. 
 
 " The terms, Vaudois, in French ; Vallenses, in 
 Latin; Valdesi or Vallesi, in Italian; and Wai- 
 
214 APPENDIX. 
 
 (lenses in English ecclesiastical history, signify 
 nothing more or less than "men of the valleys;" 
 and as the valleys of Piemont have had the honour 
 of producing a race of people, who have remained 
 true to the faith introduced by the first mission- 
 aries who preached Christianity in those regions, 
 the synonyms Vaudois, Valdesi, and Waldenses, 
 have been adopted as the distinguishing names of 
 a religious community, faithful to the primitive 
 creed, and free from the corruptions of the church 
 of Rome." Gilly's Waldensian Researches. 
 
 NOTE 4. 
 Jlntiquity of the Moravian Church. 
 
 "The Waldenses of Piemont are not to be re- 
 garded as successors of certain reformers, who 
 first stood up in France and Italy, at a time 
 when the corruption of the Roman church and 
 priesthood became intolerable ; but, as a race of 
 simple mountaineers, who, from generation to 
 generation, have continued steadily in the faith 
 preached to their forefathers, when the territories, 
 of which these valleys form a part, were first 
 
APPENDIX. 215 
 
 christianized. Ample proof will be given as I pro- 
 ceed." Waldensian Researches, p. 8. 
 
 It would be out of place here to enter into the 
 detail of these proofs, for which, and much inte- 
 resting matter beside, we refer the reader to Mr. 
 Gilly's work. 
 
 THE END. 
 
THE INFORMATION CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME 
 HAS BEEN CHIEFLY DRAWN FROM THE FOLLOW- 
 ING WORKS. 
 
 History of the Edict of Nantes; printed in 
 French, by authority of the States of Holland, and 
 translated into English, A. D. 1694. 
 
 Voltaire's Siecle de Louis XIV. 
 
 Anquetil's Histoire de France. 
 
 Eclaircisseraens Historique, sur les Causes de 
 la Revocation de PEdit de Nantes. Tires des dif- 
 ferentes Archives du Governement. 
 
 History of the Cevennes. 
 
 Burnet's History of his own times. 
 
 Narrative of the Sufferings of the French Pro- 
 testants on board the Galleys, after the Revocation 
 of the Edict of Nantes. By Rev. J. Bion, some- 
 time Priest in the parish of Ursy, in Burgundy, 
 arid Chaplain to a Galley in the French Service. 
 
 Martin's History of the Sufferings and Martyr- 
 dom of Louis de Marolles. 
 
 L' Histoire apologetique. By one of the exiled 
 Pastors. 
 
 Journal de Jean Migault : ou Malheurs d'une 
 Famille Protestante, du Poitou, a 1'Epoque de la 
 Revocation de PEdit de Nantes. 
 
 Gilly's Waldensian Researches. 
 
 Acland's translation of Arnaud's Glorious Reco- 
 very of their Valleys, by the Vaudois. 
 

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