Fox's Book of Martyrs
Chapter XXI
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 compansions 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.
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.
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 mornin 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 insruments 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 rror 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.
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.
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 litle 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.
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 knowin 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,
drapyery, 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 admnister 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.
"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.
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.
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 imporing
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.
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 beseiged, "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 drivine
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.
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 iw as the will of
God.' Three thousand francs were offered for the apprehension of Boissin; 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.
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, appluaded, 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 couragious 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."
Chapter 22 - Beginnings of American Foreign Missions