Fox's Book of Martyrs
Chapter XXI
The persecution in
this Protestant part of France continued with very little
intermission from the revocation of the edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV until a very short period previous to the
commencement of the late French Revolution. In the year 1785, M. Rebaut St.
Etienne and the celebrated M. de la Fayette were among the first persons who
interested themselves with the court of Louis XVI in removing the scourge of
persecution from this injured people, the inhabitants of the south of France.
Such
was the opposition on the part of the Catholics and the courtiers, that it was
not until the end of the year 1790, that the Protestants were
freed from their alarms. Previously to this, the Catholics at Nismes in
particular, had taken up arms;
Nismes
then presented a frightful spectacle; armed men ran through the city, fired
from the corners of the streets, and attacked all they met with swords and
forks.
A
man named Astuc was wounded and thrown into the aqueduct;
Baudon
fell under the repeated strokes of bayonets and sabers, and his body was also
thrown into the water; Boucher, a young man only seventeen years of age, was
shot as he was looking out of his window; three electors wounded, one
dangerously; another elector wounded, only escaped death by repeatedly
declaring he was a Catholic; a third received four saber wounds, and was taken
home dreadfully mangled. The citizens that fled were arrested
by the Catholics upon the roads, and obliged to give
proofs of their religion before their lives were granted.
M. and Madame Vogue were at their country house, which the zealots broke open,
where they massacred both, and destroyed their
dwelling. M. Blacher, a Protestant seventy years of age, was
cut to pieces with a sickle; young Pyerre, carrying some
food to his brother, was asked, "Catholic or
Protestant?" "Protestant," being the reply, a monster fired at
the lad, and he fell. One of the murderer's companions said, "You might as
well have killed a lamb." "I have sworn," replied he, "to
kill four Protestants for my share, and this will count for one." However,
as these atrocities provoked the troops to unite in defence of the people, a
terrible vengeance was retaliated upon the Catholic party that had used arms,
which with other circumstances, especially the toleration exercised by Napoleon
Bonaparte, kept them down completely until the year 1814, when the unexpected
return of the ancient government rallied them all once more round the old
banners.
This was known at Nismes on the thirteenth of April, 1814.
In a quarter of an
hour, the white cockade was seen in every direction,
the white flag floated on the public buildings, on the splendid monuments of
antiquity, and even on the tower of Mange, beyond the city walls. The
Protestants, whose commerce had suffered materially during the war, were among
the first to unite in the general joy, and to send in their adhesion to the
senate, and the legislative body; and several of the Protestant departments
sent addresses to the throne, but unfortunately, M. Froment was again at Nismes
at the moment, when many bigots being ready to join him, the blindness and fury
of the sixteenth century rapidly succeeded the intelligence and philanthropy of
the nineteenth. A line of distinction was instantly traced
between men of different religious opinions; the spirit of the old Catholic
Church was again to regulate each person's share of esteem and safety.
The
difference of religion was now to govern everything else; and even Catholic
domestics who had served Protestants with zeal and affection began to neglect
their duties, or to perform them ungraciously, and with reluctance. At the
fetes and spectacles that were given at the public
expense, the absence of the Protestants was charged on
them as a proof of their disloyalty; and in the midst of
the cries of Vive le Roi! the discordant sounds of A bas le Maire, down with
the mayor, were heard. M. Castletan was a Protestant;
he appeared in public with the prefect M. Ruland, a Catholic, when potatoes were thrown at him, and the people declared that he ought to
resign his office. The bigots of Nismes, even succeeded in procuring an address
to be presented to the king, stating that there ought
to be in France but one God, one king, and one faith. In this they were
imitated by the Catholics of several towns.
About this time, M.
Baron, counsellor of the Cour Royale of Nismes, formed the plan of dedicating
to God a silver child, if the Duchess d'Angouleme would give a prince to
France. This project was converted into a public
religious vow, which was the subject of conversation both in public and
private, whilst persons, whose imaginations were inflamed
by these proceedings, ran about the streets crying Vivent les Boubons, or
"the Bourbons forever." In consequence of this superstitious frenzy,
it is said that at Alais women were
advised and instigated to poison their Protestant husbands, and at
length it was found convenient to accuse them of
political crimes. They could no longer appear in public without insults and
injuries. When the mobs met with Protestants, they seized them, and danced
round them with barbarous joy, and amidst repeated cries of Vive le Roi, they
sang verses, the burden of which was, "We will wash our hands in
Protestant blood, and make black puddings of the blood of Calvin's
children."
The
citizens who came to the promenades for air and refreshment from the close and dirty streets were chased
with shouts of Vive le Roi, as if those shouts were to justify every excess. If
Protestants referred to the charter, they were directly
assured it would be of no use to them, and that they had only been managed to be more effectually
destroyed. Persons of rank were heard to say in
the public streets, "All the Huguenots must be killed; this time their
children must be killed, that none of the accursed race may remain."
Still,
it is true, they were not murdered, but cruelly
treated; Protestant children could no longer mix in the sports of Catholics,
and were not even permitted to appear without their
parents. At dark their families shut themselves up in
their apartments; but even then stones were thrown against their windows. When they arose in the morning
it was not uncommon to find gibbets drawn on their
doors or walls; and in the streets the Catholics held cords already soaped
before their eyes, and pointed out the instruments by
which they hoped and designed to exterminate them. Small gallows or models were
handed about, and a man who lived opposite to one of the pastors, exhibited one
of these models in his window, and made signs sufficiently intelligible when
the minister passed. A figure representing a Protestant preacher was also hung up on a public crossway, and the most
atrocious songs were sung under his window.
Towards
the conclusion of the carnival, a plan had even been formed
to make a caricature of the four ministers of the place, and
burn them in effigy; but this was prevented by the
mayor of Nismes, a Protestant. A dreadful song presented to the prefect, in the
country dialect, with a false translation, was printed
by his approval, and had a great run before he saw the extent of the error into
which he had been betrayed. The sixty-third regiment
of the line was publicly censured and insulted, for having, according to order,
protected Protestants. In fact, the Protestants seemed to be as sheep destined
for the slaughter.
In May, 1815, a federative association, similar
to that of Lyons, Grenoble, Paris, Avignon, and Montpelier, was desired by many persons at
Nismes; but this federation terminated here after an ephemeral and illusory
existence of fourteen days. In the meanwhile a large
party of Catholic zealots were in arms at Beaucaire, and who soon pushed their patrols
so near the walls of Nismes, "so as to alarm the inhabitants." These
Catholics applied to the English off Marseilles for assistance, and obtained
the grant of one thousand muskets, ten thousand cartouches, etc.
General Gilly, however, was soon sent against these partizans, who prevented
them from coming to extremes by granting them an armistice; and yet when Louis
XVIII had returned to Paris, after the expiration of Napoleon's reign of a
hundred days, and peace and party spirit seemed to have been subdued, even at
Nismes, bands from Beaucaire joined Trestaillon in this city, to glut the
vengeance they had so long premeditated. General Gilly had left the department several days: the troops of the line left behind had taken
the white cockade, and waited further orders, whilst
the new commissioners had only to proclaim the cessation of hostilities and the
complete establishment of the king's authority. In vain, no commissioners
appeared, no despatches arrived to calm and regulate the public mind; but towards
evening the advanced guard of the banditti, to the amount
of several hundreds, entered the city, undesired but
unopposed.
As
they marched without order or discipline, covered with clothes or rags of all
colors, decorated with cockades, not white, but white and green, armed with
muskets, sabers, forks, pistols and reaping hooks, intoxicated with wine, and
stained with the blood of the Protestants whom they had murdered on their
route, they presented a most hideous and appealling spectacle. In the open
place in the front of the barracks, this banditti was
joined by the city armed mob, headed by Jaques Dupont, commonly called Trestaillon.
To save the effusion of blood, this garrison of about five hundred men
consented to capitulate, and marched out sad and defenceless; but when about
fifty had passed, the rabble commenced a tremendous fire on their confiding and
unprotected victims; nearly all were killed or wounded, and but very few could
re-enter the yard before the garrison gates were again closed. These were again forced in an instant, and all were
massacred who could not climb over roofs, or leap into the adjoining
gardens. In a word, death met them in every place and in every shape, and this
Catholic massacre rivalled in cruelty and surpassed in treachery the crimes of
the September assassins of Paris, and the Jacobinical butcheries of Lyons and
Avignon. It was marked not only by the fervor of the
Revolution but by the subtlety of the league, and will
long remain a blot upon the history of the second restoration.
Nismes now
exhibited a most awful scene of outrage and carnage, though many
of the Protestants had fled to the Convennes and the Gardonenque. The country
houses of Messrs. Rey, Guiret, and several others, had
been pillaged, and the inhabitants treated with wanton
barbarity. Two parties had glutted their savage appetites on the farm of Madame
Frat: the first, after eating, drinking, and breaking the furniture, and
stealing what they thought proper, took leave by announcing the arrival of
their comrades, 'compared with whom,' they said, 'they should be thought
merciful.' Three men and an old woman were left on the
premises: at the sight of the second company two of the men fled. "Are you
a Catholic?" said the banditti to the old woman. "Yes."
"Repeat, then, your Pater and Ave." Being terrified, she hesitated, and was instantly knocked
down with a musket. On recovering her senses, she stole out of the house, but
met Ladet, the old valet de ferme, bringing in a salad which the depredators
had ordered him to cut. In vain she endeavored to persuade him to fly.
"Are you a Protestant?" they exclaimed; "I am." A musket being discharged at him, he fell wounded, but not dead. To
consummate their work, the monsters lighted a fire with straw and boards, threw
their living victim into the flames, and suffered him
to expire in the most dreadful agonies. They then ate their salad, omelet, etc. The next day, some laborers,
seeing the house open and deserted, entered, and discovered the half consumed
body of Ladet. The prefect of the Gard, M. Darbaud Jouques, attempting to
palliate the crimes of the Catholics, had the audacity to assert that Ladet was
a Catholic; but this was publicly contradicted by two
of the pastors at Nismes.
Another
party committed a dreadful murder at St. Cezaire, upon Imbert la Plume, the
husband of Suzon Chivas. He was met on returning from
work in the fields. The chief promised him his life, but
insisted that he must be conducted to the prison at
Nismes. Seeing, however, that the party was determined to kill him, he resumed
his natural character, and being a powerful and courageous man advanced and
exclaimed, "You are brigands-fire!" Four of them fired, and he fell,
but he was not dead; and while living they mutilated his body; and then passing
a cord round it, drew it along, attached to a cannon of which they had
possession. It was not until after eight days that his relatives were apprised of his death. Five individuals of the family
of Chivas, all husbands and fathers, were massacred in the course of a few days.
The
merciless treatment of the women, in this persecution at Nismes, was such as
would have disgraced any savages ever heard of. The widows
Rivet and Bernard were forced to sacrifice enormous
sums; and the house of Mrs. Lecointe was ravaged, and
her goods destroyed. Mrs. F. Didier had her dwelling sacked and nearly
demolished to the foundation. A party of these bigots visited the widow Perrin,
who lived on a little farm at the windmills; having committed every species of
devastation, they attacked even the sanctuary of the dead, which contained the
relics of her family. They dragged the coffins out, and
scattered the contents over the adjacent grounds. In vain this outraged widow
collected the bones of her ancestors and replaced them: they were
again dug up; and, after several useless
efforts, they were reluctantly left spread over the surface of the fields.
At length the
decree of Louis XVIII which annulled all the extraordinary powers conferred
either by the king, the princes, or subordinate agents, was received at Nismes,
and the laws were now to be administered by the regular organs, and a new
prefect arrived to carry them into effect; but in spite of proclamations, the
work of destruction, stopped for a moment, was not abandoned, but soon renewed
with fresh vigor and effect. On the thirtieth of July, Jacques Combe, the
father of a family, was killed by some
of the national guards of Rusau, and the crime was so public, that the
commander of the party restored to the family the pocketbook and papers of the
deceased. On the following day tumultuous crowds roamed about the city and
suburbs, threatening the wretched peasants; and on the first of August they
butchered them without opposition.
About
noon on the same day, six armed men, headed by Truphemy, the butcher,
surrounded the house of Monot, a carpenter; two of the party, who were smiths,
had been at work in the house the day before, and had seen a Protestant who had
taken refuge there, M. Bourillon, who had been a lieutenant in the army, and
had retired on a pension. He was a man of an excellent character, peaceable and
harmless, and had never served the emperor Napoleon. Truphemy not knowing him,
he was pointed out partaking of a frugal breakfast
with the family. Truphemy ordered him to go along with him, adding, "Your
friend, Saussine, is already in the other world." Truphemy placed him in
the middle of his troop, and artfully ordered him to
cry Vive l'Empereur he refused, adding, he had never
served the emperor. In vain did the women and children of the house intercede
for his life, and praise his amiable and virtuous
qualities. He was marched to the Esplanade and shot,
first by Truphemy and then by the others. Several
persons, attracted by the firing approached, but were threatened with a similar fate.
After
some time the wretches
departed, shouting Vive le Roi. Some women met them,
and one of them appearing affected, said, "I have killed seven to-day, for
my share, and if you say a word, you shall be the eighth." Pierre Courbet,
a stocking weaver, was torn from his loom by an armed band, and shot at his own
door. His eldest daughter was knocked down with the
butt end of a musket; and a poignard was held at the
breast of his wife while the mob plundered her apartments. Paul Heraut, a silk
weaver, was literally cut in pieces, in the presence
of a large crowd, and amidst the unavailing cries and tears of his wife and
four young children. The murderers only abandoned the corpse to return to
Heraut's house and secure everything valuable. The number of murders on this
day could not be ascertained. One person saw six
bodies at the Cours Neuf, and nine were carried to the
hospital.
If
murder some time after, became less frequent for a few
days, pillage and forced contributions were actively enforced.
M. Salle d'Hombro, at several visits was robbed of seven thousand francs; and
on one occasion, when he pleaded the sacrifices he had made, "Look,"
said a bandit, pointing to his pipe, "this will set fire to your house;
and this," brandishing his sword, "will finish you." No reply
could be made to these arguments. M. Feline, a silk
manufacturer, was robbed of thirty-two thousand francs
in gold, three thousand francs in silver, and several bales of silk.
The
small shopkeepers were continually exposed to visits
and demands of provisions, drapery, or whatever they sold; and the same hands
that set fire to the houses of the rich, and tore up the vines of the
cultivator, broke the looms of the weaver; and stole the tools of the artisan.
Desolation reigned in the sanctuary and in the city. The armed bands, instead
of being reduced, were increased;
the fugitives, instead of returning, received constant accessions, and their
friends who sheltered them were deemed rebellious.
Those Protestants who remained were deprived of all
their civil and religious rights, and even the advocates and huissiers entered into a resolution to exclude all
of "the pretended reformed religion" from their bodies. Those
who were employed in selling tobacco were deprived of
their licenses. The Protestant deacons who had the charge of the poor were all
scattered. Of five pastors only two remained; one of
these was obliged to change his residence,
and could only venture to administer the consolations of religion, or
perform the functions of his ministry under cover of the night.
Not
content with these modes of torment, calumnious and inflammatory publications
charged the Protestants with raising the proscribed standard in the communes, and invoking the fallen Napoleon; and, of course,
as unworthy the protection of the laws and the favor of the monarch.
Hundreds
after this were dragged to prison without even so much as a written order; and
though an official newspaper, bearing the title of the Journal du Gard, was set
up for five months, while it was influenced by the prefect, the mayor, and
other functionaries, the word "charter" was never once used in it.
One of the first numbers, on the contrary, represented the suffering
Protestants, as "Crocodiles, only weeping from rage and regret that they
had no more victims to devour; as persons who had surpassed Danton, Marat, and
Robespierre, in doing mischief; and as having prostituted their daughters to
the garrison to gain it over to Napoleon." An extract from this article,
stamped with the crown and the arms of the Bourbons, was
hawked about the streets, and the vender was adorned
with the medal of the police.
To these reproaches
it is proper to oppose the petition which the Protestant refugees in Paris
presented to Louis XVIII in behalf of their brethren
at Nismes.
"We
lay at your feet, sire, our acute sufferings. In your name our fellow citizens are slaughtered, and their property laid waste. Misled
peasants, in pretended obedience to your orders, had assembled at the command
of a commissioner appointed by your august nephew. Although ready to attack us,
they were received with the assurances of peace. On
the fifteenth of July, 1815, we learned your majesty's
entrance into Paris, and the white flag immediately waved on our edifices. The
public tranquillity had not been disturbed, when armed
peasants introduced themselves. The garrison capitulated, but were assailed on their departure, and almost
totally massacred. Our national guard was disarmed,
the city filled with strangers, and the houses of the principal inhabitants,
professing the reformed religion, were attacked and
plundered. We subjoin the list. Terror has driven from our city the most
respectable inhabitants.
"Your
majesty has been deceived if there has not been placed before you the picture
of the horrors which make a desert of your good city of Nismes. Arrests and
proscriptions are continually taking place, and difference of religious
opinions is the real and only cause. The calumniated
Protestants are the defenders of the throne. You nephew has beheld our children
under his banners; our fortunes have been placed in
his hands. Attacked without reason, the Protestants have not, even by a just
resistance, afforded their enemies the fatal pretext for calumny. Save us,
sire! extinguish the brand of civil war; a single act of your will would
restore to political existence a city interesting for its population and its
manufactures. Demand an account of their conduct from the chiefs who had
brought our misfortunes upon us. We place before your eyes all the documents
that have reached us. Fear paralyzes the hearts, and
stifles the complaints of our fellow citizens. Placed in a more secure
situation, we venture to raise our voice in their behalf," etc., etc.
At Nismes it is
well known that the women wash their clothes either at the fountains or on the
banks of streams. There is a large basin near the fountain, where numbers of
women may be seen every day, kneeling at the edge of
the water, and beating the clothes with heavy pieces of wood in the shape of
battledores. This spot became the scene of the most shameful and indecent
practices. The Catholic rabble turned the women's petticoats over their heads,
and so fastened them as to continue their exposure, and their subjection to a
newly invented species of chastisement; for nails being placed in the wood of
the abattoirs in the form of fleur-de-lis, they beat them until the blood
streamed from their bodies, and their cries rent the air. Often was death
demanded as a commutation of this ignominious punishment, but
refused with a malignant joy. To carry their outrage to the highest possible
degree, several who were in a state of pregnancy were assailed in this manner. The scandalous nature of these
outrages prevented many of the sufferers from making
them public, and, especially, from relating the most
aggravating circumstances. "I have seen," says M. Duran, "a
Catholic advocate, accompanying the assassins of the fauxbourg Bourgade, arm a abattoir
with sharp nails in the form of fleur-de-lis; I have seen them raise the
garments of females, and apply, with heavy blows, to the bleeding body this abattoir
or battledore, to which they gave a name which my pen refuses to record. The
cries of the sufferers-the streams of blood-the murmurs of indignation which were suppressed by fear-nothing could move them. The
surgeons who attended on those women who are dead, can attest, by the marks of
their wounds, the agonies which they must have endured, which, however
horrible, is most strictly true."
Nevertheless,
during the progress of these horrors and obscenities, so disgraceful to France
and the Catholic religion, the agents of government had a powerful force under
their command, and by honestly employing it they might have restored
tranquillity. Murder and robbery, however, continued, and were winked at, by
the Catholic magistrates, with very few exceptions; the administrative
authorities, it is true, used words in their proclamations, etc., but never had
recourse to actions to stop the enormities of the persecutors, who boldly
declared that, on the twenty-fourth, the anniversary of St. Bartholomew, they
intended to make a general massacre. The members of the Reformed Church were filled with terror, and, instead of taking part in the
election of deputies, were occupied as well as they
could in providing for their own personal safety.
Outrages
Committed in the Villages, etc.
We
now quit Nismes to take a view of the conduct of the persecutors in the
surrounding country. After the re-establishment of the royal government, the
local authorities were distinguished for their zeal and forwardness in
supporting their employers, and, under pretence of rebellion, concealment of
arms, nonpayment of contributions, etc., troops, national guards, and armed
mobs, were permitted to plunder, arrest, and murder peaceable citizens, not
merely with impunity, but with encouragement and approbation. At the village of
Milhaud, near Nismes, the inhabitants were frequently forced to pay large sums
to avoid being pillaged. This, however, would not
avail at Madame Teulon's: On Sunday, the sixteenth of July, her house and
grounds were ravaged; the valuable furniture removed
or destroyed, the hay and wood burnt, and the corpse of a child, buried in the
garden, taken up and dragged round a fire made by the
populace. It was with great difficulty that M. Teulon escaped with his life.
M.
Picherol, another Protestant, had deposited some of
his effects with a Catholic neighbor; this house was attacked,
and though all the property of the latter was respected,
that of his friend was seized and destroyed. At the
same village, one of a party doubting whether M. Hermet, a tailor, was the man
they wanted, asked, "Is he a Protestant?" this he acknowledged.
"Good," said they, and he was instantly murdered. In the canton of Vauvert,
where there was a consistory church, eighty thousand francs were
extorted.
In
the communes of Beauvoisin and Generac similar excesses were committed by a
handful of licentious men, under the eye of the Catholic mayor, and to the
cries of Vive le Roi! St. Gilles was the scene of the most unblushing villainy.
The Protestants, the most wealthy of the inhabitants, were disarmed, whilst their houses were
pillaged. The mayor was appealed to; but he
laughed and walked away. This officer had, at his disposal, a national guard of
several hundred men, organized by his own orders. It
would be wearisome to read the lists of the crimes that occurred during many months. At Clavison the mayor prohibited the
Protestants the practice of singing the Psalms commonly used in the temple,
that, as he said, the Catholics might not be offended
or disturbed.
At
Sommieres, about ten miles from Nismes, the Catholics made a splendid
procession through the town, which continued until evening and was succeeded by the plunder of the Protestants. On the
arrival of foreign troops at Sommieres, the pretended search for arms was resumed; those who did not possess muskets were even compelled to buy them on purpose to surrender them
up, and soldiers were quartered on them at six francs
per day until they produced the articles in demand. The Protestant church which
had been closed, was converted
into barracks for the Austrians. After divine service had been
suspended for six months at Nismes, the church, called the Temple by the
Protestants, was re-opened, and public worship performed on the morning of the
twenty-fourth of December. On examining the belfry, it
was discovered that some
persons had carried off the clapper of the bell. As the hour of service
approached, a number of men, women, and children
collected at the house of M. Ribot, the pastor, and threatened to prevent the
worship. At the appointed time, when he proceeded towards the church, he was surrounded; the most savage shouts were
raised against him; some of the women seized
him by the collar; but nothing could disturb his firmness, or
excite his impatience; he entered the house of prayer, and ascended the pulpit.
Stones were thrown in and fell among the worshippers;
still the congregation remained calm and attentive, and the service was concluded amidst noise, threats, and outrage.
On
retiring many would have been killed
but for the chasseurs of the garrison, who honorably and zealously protected
them. From the captain of these chasseurs, M. Ribot soon after received the
following letter:
January
2, 1816.
"I
deeply lament the prejudices of the Catholics against the Protestants, who they
pretend do not love the king. Continue to act as you
have hitherto done, and time and your conduct will convince the Catholics to
the contrary: should any tumult occur similar to that
of Saturday last inform me. I preserve my reports of these acts, and if the
agitators prove incorrigible, and forget what they owe to the best of kings and
the charter, I will do my duty and inform the government of their proceedings.
Adieu, my dear sir; assure the consistory of my esteem, and of the sense I
entertain of the moderation with which they have met the provocations of the
evil-disposed at Sommieres. I have the honor to salute you with respect.
SUVAL
DE LAINE."
Another
letter to this worthy pastor from the Marquis de Montlord, was received on the
sixth of January, to encourage him to unite with all good men who believe in
God to obtain the punishment of the assassins, brigands, and disturbers of
public tranquillity, and to read the instructions he had received from the
government to this effect publicly. Notwithstanding this, on the twentieth of January, 1816, when the service in commemoration of the
death of Louis XVI was celebrated, a procession being formed, the National Guards fired at the white flag
suspended from the windows of the Protestants, and
concluded the day by plundering their houses.
In
the commune of Anguargues, matters were still worse; and in that of Fontanes,
from the entry of the king in 1815, the Catholics broke all terms with the
Protestants; by day they insulted them, and in the night broke open their
doors, or marked them with chalk to be plundered or burnt. St. Mamert was repeatedly visited by these robberies; and at Montmiral,
as lately as the sixteenth of June, 1816, the
Protestants were attacked, beaten, and imprisoned, for
daring to celebrate the return of a king who had sworn to preserve religious
liberty and to maintain the charter.
The excesses
perpetrated in the country it seems did not by any means divert the attention
of the persecutors from Nismes. October, 1815,
commenced without any improvement in the principles or measures of the
government, and this was followed by corresponding
presumption on the part of the people. Several houses
in the Quartier St. Charles were sacked, and their
wrecks burnt in the streets amidst songs, dances, and shouts of Vive le Roi!
The mayor appeared, but the merry multitude pretended not to know him, and when
he ventured to remonstrate, they told him, 'his presence was unnecessary, and
that he might retire.' During the sixteenth of October, every preparation seemed to announce a night of carnage; orders for assembling
and signals for attack were circulated with regularity
and confidence; Trestaillon reviewed his satellites, and urged them on to the
perpetration of crimes, holding with one of those wretches the following
dialogue:
Satellite.
"If all the Protestants, without one exception, are to be killed, I will
cheerfully join; but as you have so often deceived me, unless they are all to go I will not stir."
Trestaillon.
"Come along, then, for this time not a single man shall escape."
This
horrid purpose would have been executed had it not
been for General La Garde, the commandant of the department. It was not until
ten o'clock at night that he perceived the danger; he now felt that not a
moment could be lost. Crowds were advancing through
the suburbs, and the streets were filling with ruffians, uttering the most
horrid imprecations. The generale sounded at eleven o'clock,
and added to the confusion that was now spreading through the city. A few troops rallied round the Count La Garde, who was wrung with distress at the
sight of the evil which had arrived at such a pitch. Of this M. Durand, a
Catholic advocate, gave the following account:
"It
was near midnight, my wife had just fallen asleep; I was writing by her side,
when we were disturbed by a distant noise; drums seemed crossing the town in
every direction. What could all this mean! To quiet
her alarm, I said it probably announced the arrival or
departure of some troops of the garrison. But firing
and shouts were immediately audible; and on opening my window I distinguished
horrible imprecations mingled with cries of Vive le Roi! I roused an officer
who lodged in the house, and M. Chancel, Director of the Public Works. We went
out together, and gained the Boulevarde. The moon
shone bright, and almost every
object was nearly as distinct as day; a furious crowd
was pressing on vowing extermination, and the greater part half naked, armed
with knives, muskets, sticks, and sabers. In answer to my inquiries
I was told the massacre was general, that many had been already killed in the
suburbs. M. Chancel retired to put on his uniform as captain of the Pompiers;
the officers retired to the barracks, and anxious for my wife I returned home.
By the noise I was convinced that persons followed. I crept along in the shadow
of the wall, opened my door, entered, and closed it, leaving a small aperture
through which I could watch the movements of the party whose arms shone in the
moonlight. In a few moments some armed men appeared conducting a prisoner to the very
spot where I was concealed. They stopped, I shut my
door gently, and mounted on an alder tree planted
against the garden wall. What a scene! a man on his knees imploring mercy from
wretches who mocked his agony, and loaded him with
abuse. 'In the name of my wife and children,' he said, 'spare me! What have I
done? Why would you murder me for nothing?' I was on the point of crying out
and menacing the murderers with vengeance. I had not long to deliberate, the
discharge of several fusils terminated my suspense;
the unhappy supplicant, struck in the loins and the head, fell to rise no more.
The backs of the assassins were towards the tree; they retired immediately,
reloading their pieces. I descended and approached the dying man, uttering some deep and dismal groans. Some
national guards arrived at the moment, and I again
retired and shut the door. 'I see,' said one, 'a dead man.' 'He sings still,'
said another. 'It will be better,' said a third, 'to finish him and put him out
of his misery.' Five or six muskets were fired
instantly, and the groans ceased. On the following day
crowds came to inspect and insult the deceased. A day after a massacre was
always observed as a sort of fete, and every occupation was left to go and gaze
upon the victims." This was Louis Lichare, the father of four children;
and four years after the event, M. Durand verified this account by his oath
upon the trial of one of the murderers.
Some
time before the death
of General La Garde, the duke d'Angouleme had visited Nismes, and other cities
in the south, and at the former place honored the members of the Protestant
consistory with an interview, promising them protection, and encouraging them
to re-open their temple so long shut up. They have two churches at Nismes, and
it was agreed that the small one should be preferred on this occasion, and that the ringing of the
bell should be omitted, General La Garde declared that
he would answer with his head for the safety of his congregation. The
Protestants privately informed each other that worship was once more to be celebrated at ten o'clock, and they began to assemble
silently and cautiously. It was agreed that M.
Juillerat Chasseur should perform the service, though such was his conviction
of danger that he entreated his wife, and some of his
flock, to remain with their families. The temple being opened
only as a matter of form, and in compliance with the orders of the duke
d'Angouleme, this pastor wished to be the only victim. On his way to the place he passed numerous groups who
regarded him with ferocious looks. "This is the time," said some, "to give them the last blow."
"Yes," added others, "and neither women nor children must be
spared." One wretch, raising his voice above the rest, exclaimed,
"Ah, I will go and get my musket, and ten for my share." Through
these ominous sounds M. Juillerat pursued his course, but when he gained the temple the sexton had not the courage to open the door, and he was obliged to do it himself. As the worshippers arrived they found strange persons in possession of the
adjacent streets, and upon the steps of the church, vowing their worship should
not be performed, and crying, "Down with the
Protestants! kill them! kill them!" At ten o'clock the church being nearly filled, M.J. Chasseur commenced the prayers; a
calm that succeeded was of short duration. On a sudden
the minister was interrupted by a violent noise, and a number of persons entered, uttering the most dreadful
cries, mingled with Vive le Roi! but the gendarmed succeeded in excluding these
fanatics, and closing the doors. The noise and tumult without now redoubled,
and the blows of the populace trying to break open the doors, caused the house
to resound with shrieks and groans. The voice of the pastors who endeavored to
console their flock, was inaudible; they attempted in vain to sing the
Forty-second Psalm.
Three
quarters of an hour rolled heavily away. "I placed myself," said
Madame Juillerat, "at the bottom of the pulpit, with my daughter in my
arms; my husband at length joined and sustained me; I remembered that it was
the anniversary of my marriage. After six years of happiness, I said, I am
about to die with my husband and my daughter; we shall be
slain at the altar of our God, the victims of a sacred duty, and heaven
will open to receive us and our unhappy brethren. I blessed the Redeemer, and
without cursing our murderers, I awaited their approach."
M.
Oliver, son of a pastor, an officer in the royal troops of the line, attempted
to leave the church, but the friendly sentinels at the door advised him to
remain besieged with the rest. The national guards refused to act, and the
fanatical crowd took every advantage of the absence of
General La Garde, and of their increasing numbers. At length
the sound of martial music was heard, and voices from
without called to the besieged, "Open, open, and
save yourselves!" Their first impression was a fear of treachery, but they
were soon assured that a detachment returning from
Mass was drawn up in front of the church to favor the
retreat of the Protestants. The door was opened, and many of them escaped among the ranks of the soldiers, who
had driven the mob before them; but this street, as well as others through
which the fugitives had to pass, was soon filled
again. The venerable pastor, Olivier Desmond, between seventy and eighty years
of age, was surrounded by murderers; they put their
fists in his face, and cried, "Kill the chief of brigands." He was preserved by the firmness of some
officers, among whom was his own son; they made a bulwark round him with their
bodies, and amidst their naked sabers conducted him to his house. M. Juillerat,
who had assisted at divine service with his wife at his side and his child in
his arms, was pursued and assailed with stones, his
mother received a blow on the head, and her life was some
time in danger. One woman was shamefully whipped, and several
wounded and dragged along the streets; the number of Protestants more or less ill treated on this occasion amounted to between seventy and
eighty.
At length a check was put to these
excesses by the report of the murder of Count LaGarde, who, receiving an
account of this tumult, mounted his horse, and entered one of the streets, to
disperse a crowd. A villain seized his bridle; another presented the muzzle of
a pistol close to his body, and exclaimed, "Wretch, you make me
retire!" He immediately fired. The murderer was Louis Boissin, a sergeant
in the national guard; but, though known to everyone,
no person endeavored to arrest him, and he effected
his escape. As soon as the general found himself wounded, he gave orders to the
gendarmerie to protect the Protestants, and set off on
a gallop to his hotel; but fainted immediately on his arrival. On recovering,
he prevented the surgeon from searching his wound until he had written a letter
to the government, that, in case of his death, it might be known from what
quarter the blow came, and that none might dare to accuse the Protestants of
the crime.
The
probable death of this general produced a small degree of relaxation on the
part of their enemies, and some calm; but the mass of
the people had been indulged in licentiousness too
long to be restrained even by the murder of the
representative of their king. In the evening they
again repaired to the temple, and with hatchets broke open the door; the dismal
noise of their blows carried terror into the bosom of the Protestant families
sitting in their houses in tears. The contents of the poor box, and the clothes
prepared for distribution, were stolen; the minister's robes rent in pieces;
the books torn up or carried away; the closets were ransacked, but the rooms
which contained the archives of the church, and the synods, were providentially
secured; and had it not been for the numerous patrols on foot, the whole would
have become the prey of the flames, and the edifice itself a heap of ruins. In
the meanwhile, the fanatics openly ascribed the murder of the general to his
own self-devotion, and said, 'that is as the will of God.' Three thousand
francs were offered for the apprehension of Boisson;
but it was well known that the Protestants dared not arrest him, and that the
fanatics would not. During these transactions, the system of forced conversions
to Catholicism was making regular and fearful progress.
To the credit of
England, the report of these cruel persecutions carried on against our
Protestant brethren in France, produced such a sensation on the part of the
government as determined them to interfere; and now the persecutors of the
Protestants made this spontaneous act of humanity and religion the pretext for
charging the sufferers with a treasonable correspondence with England; but in
this sate of their proceedings, to their great
dismay, a letter appeared, sent some time before to England by the duke of
Wellington, stating that 'much information existed on the events of the south.'
The
ministers of the three denominations in London, anxious not to be misled, requested one of their brethren to visit the
scenes of persecution, and examine with impartiality the nature and extent of
the evils they were desirous to relieve. Rev. Clement Perot undertook this difficult task, and fulfilled their wishes with a zeal, prudence, and devotedness, above all praise. His
return furnished abundant and incontestable proof of a shameful persecution,
materials for an appeal to the British Parliament, and a printed report which was circulated through the continent, and which first
conveyed correct information to the inhabitants of France.
Foreign
interference was now found eminently useful; and the declarations of tolerance
which it elicited from the French government, as well as the more cautious
march of the Catholic persecutors, operated as decisive and involuntary
acknowledgments of the importance of that interference, which some persons at
first censured and despised, put through the stern voice of public opinion in
England and elsewhere produced a resultant suspension of massacre and pillage,
the murderers and plunderers were still left unpunished, and even caressed and
rewarded for their crimes; and whilst Protestants in France suffered the most
cruel and degrading pains and penalties for alleged trifling crimes, Catholics,
covered with blood, and guilty of numerous and horrid murders, were acquitted.
Perhaps
the virtuous indignation expressed by some of
the more enlightened Catholics against these abominable proceedings, had no
small share in restraining them. Many innocent
Protestants had been condemned to the galleys and
otherwise punished for supposed crimes, upon the oaths of wretches the most
unprincipled and abandoned. M. Madier de Mongau, judge of the cour royale of
Nismes, and president of the cour d'assizes of the Gard and Vaucluse, upon one
occasion felt himself compelled to break up the court, rather than take the
deposition of that notorious and sanguinary monster, Truphemy: "In a
hall," says he, "of the Palace of Justice, opposite that in which I
sat, several unfortunate persons persecuted by the faction were upon trial, every
deposition tending to their crimination was applauded with the cries of Vive le
Roi! Three times the explosion of this atrocious joy became so terrible that it
was necessary to send for reinforcements from the
barracks, and two hundred soldiers were often unable to restrain the people. On
a sudden the shouts and cries of Vive le Roi! redoubled: a man arrived,
caressed, applauded, borne in triumph-it was the horrible Truphemy; he
approached the tribunal-he came to depose against the prisoners-he was admitted as a witness-he raised his hand to take the
oath! Seized with horror at the sight, I rushed from my seat, and entered the
hall of council; my colleagues followed me; in vain they persuaded me to resume
my seat; 'No!' exclaimed I, 'I will not consent to see that wretch admitted to
give evidence in a court of justice in the city which he has filled with
murders; in the palace, on the steps of which he has murdered the unfortunate
Bourillon. I cannot admit that he should kill his victims by his testimonies no
more than by his poignards. He an accuser! he a witness! No, never will I consent to see this monster
rise, in the presence of magistrates, to take a sacrilegious oath, his hand
still reeking with blood.' These words were repeated
out of doors; the witness trembled; the factious also trembled; the factious
who guided the tongue of Truphemy as they had directed his arm, who dictated
calumny after they had taught him murder. These words penetrated the dungeons
of the condemned, and inspired hope; they gave another courageous advocate the
resolution to espouse the cause of the persecuted; he carried the prayers of
innocence and misery to the foot of the throne; there he asked if the evidence
of a Truphemy was not sufficient to annul a sentence. The king granted a full and free pardon."
With respect to the
conduct of the Protestants, these highly outraged citizens, pushed to
extremities by their persecutors, felt at length that they had only to choose
the manner in which they were to perish. They
unanimously determined that they would die fighting in their own defense. This
firm attitude apprised their butchers that they could no longer murder with
impunity. Everything was immediately changed. Those, who
for four years had filled others with terror, now felt
it in their turn. They trembled at the force which men, so long resigned, found
in despair, and their alarm was heightened when they
heard that the inhabitants of the Cevennes, persuaded of the danger of their
brethren, were marching to their assistance. But, without waiting for these
reinforcements, the Protestants appeared at night in the same order and armed
in the same manner as their enemies. The others paraded the Boulevards, with
their usual noise and fury, but the Protestants remained silent and firm in the
posts they had chosen. Three days these dangerous and ominous meetings
continued; but the effusion of blood was prevented by
the efforts of some worthy citizens distinguished by
their rank and fortune. By sharing the dangers of the Protestant population,
they obtained the pardon of an enemy who now trembled while he menaced.
Chapter 22 - Beginnings of American Foreign Missions