[Footnote 73: Sismondi, xx. 328.]

         [Footnote 74: To be broken alive on the wheel was one of the
         most horrible of tortures, a bequest from ages of violence
         and barbarism. It was preserved in France mainly for the
         punishment of Protestants. The prisoner was extended on a St.
         Andrew's cross, with eight notches cut on it--one below each
         arm between the elbow and wrist, another between each elbow
         and the shoulders, one under each thigh, and one under each
         leg. The executioner, armed with a heavy triangular bar of
         iron, gave a heavy blow on each of these eight places, and
         broke the bone. Another blow was given in the pit of the
         stomach. The mangled victim was lifted from the cross and
         stretched on a small wheel placed vertically at one of the
         ends of the cross, his back on the upper part of the wheel,
         his head and feet hanging down. There the tortured creature
         hung until he died. Some lingered five or six hours, others
         much longer. This horrible method of torture was only
         abolished at the French Revolution in 1790.]

The ruined family left Toulouse and made for Geneva, then the
head-quarters of Protestants from the South of France. And here it was
that the murder of Jean Calas and the misfortunes of the Calas family
came under the notice of Voltaire, then living at Ferney, near Geneva.

In the midst of the persecutions of the Protestants a great many
changes had been going on in France. Although the clergy had for more
than a century the sole control of the religious education of the
people, the people had not become religious. They had become very
ignorant and very fanatical. The upper classes were anything but
religious; they were given up for the most part to frivolity and
libertinage. The examples of their kings had been freely followed.
Though ready to do honour to the court religion, the higher classes
did not believe in it. The press was very free for the publication of
licentious and immoral books, but not for Protestant Bibles. A great
work was, however, in course of publication, under the editorship of
D'Alembert and Diderot, to which Voltaire, Rousseau, and others
contributed, entitled "The Encyclopædia." It was a description of the
entire circle of human knowledge; but the dominant idea which pervaded
it was the utter subversion of religion.

The abuses of the Church, its tyranny and cruelty, the ignorance and
helplessness in which it kept the people, the frivolity and unbelief
of the clergy themselves, had already condemned it in the minds of the
nation. The writers in "The Encyclopædia" merely gave expression to
their views, and the publication of its successive numbers was
received with rapture. In the midst of the free publication of
obscene books, there had also appeared, before the execution of Calas,
the Marquis de Mirabeau's "Ami des Hommes," Rousseau's "Émile," the
"Contrat Social," with other works, denying religion of all kinds, and
pointing to the general downfall, which was now fast approaching.

When the Calas family took refuge in Geneva, Voltaire soon heard of
their story. It was communicated to him by M. de Végobre, a French
refugee. After he had related it, Voltaire said, "This is a horrible
story. What has become of the family?" "They arrived in Geneva only
three days ago." "In Geneva!" said Voltaire; "then let me see them at
once." Madame Calas soon arrived, told him the whole facts of the
case, and convinced Voltaire of the entire innocence of the family.

Voltaire was no friend of the Huguenots. He believed the Huguenot
spirit to be a republican spirit. In his "Siècle de Louis XIV.," when
treating of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, he affirmed that
the Reformed were the enemies of the State; and though he depicted
feelingly the cruelties they had suffered, he also stated clearly that
he thought they had deserved them. Voltaire probably owed his hatred
of the Protestants to the Jesuits, by whom he was educated. He was
brought up at the Jesuit College of Louis le Grand, the chief
persecutor of the Huguenots. Voltaire also owed much of the looseness
of his principles to his godfather, the Abbé Chateauneuf, grand-prior
of Vendôme, the Abbé de Chalieu, and others, who educated him in an
utter contempt for the doctrines they were appointed and paid to
teach. It was when but a mere youth that Father Lejay, one of
Voltaire's instructors, predicted that he would yet be the Coryphæus
of Deism in France.

Nor was Voltaire better pleased with the Swiss Calvinists. He
encountered some of the most pedantic of them while residing at
Lausanne and Geneva.[75] At the latter place, he covered with sarcasm
the "twenty-four periwigs"--the Protestant council of the city. They
would not allow him to set up a theatre in Geneva, so he determined to
set up one himself at La Chatelaine, about a mile off, but beyond the
Genevese frontier. His object, he professed, was "to corrupt the
pedantic city." The theatre is still standing, though it is now used
only as a hayloft. The box is preserved from which Voltaire cheered
the performance of his own and other plays.

         [Footnote 75: While Voltaire lived at Lausanne, one of the
         baillies (the chief magistrates of the city) said to him:
         "Monsieur de Voltaire, they say that you have written against
         the good God: it is very wrong, but I hope He will pardon
         you.... But, Monsieur de Voltaire, take very good care not to
         write against their excellencies of Berne, our sovereign
         lords, for be assured that they will _never_ forgive you."]

But though Voltaire hated Protestantism like every other religion, he
also hated injustice. It was because of this that he took up the case
of the Calas family, so soon as he had become satisfied of their
innocence. But what a difficulty he had to encounter in endeavouring
to upset the decision of the judges, and the condemnation of Calas by
the parliament of Toulouse. Moreover, he had to reverse their decision
against a dead man, and that man a detested Huguenot.

Nevertheless Voltaire took up the case. He wrote letters to his
friends in all parts of France. He wrote to the sovereigns of Europe.
He published letters in the newspapers. He addressed the Duke de
Choiseul, the King's Secretary of State. He appealed to philosophers,
to men of letters, to ladies of the court, and even to priests and
bishops, denouncing the sentence pronounced against Calas,--the most
iniquitous, he said, that any court professing to act in the name of
justice had ever pronounced. Ferney was visited by many foreigners,
from Germany, America, England, and Russia; as well as by numerous
persons of influence in France. To all these he spoke vehemently of
Calas and his sentence. He gave himself no rest until he had inflamed
the minds of all men against the horrible injustice.

At length, the case of Calas became known all over France, and in fact
all over Europe. The press of Paris rang with it. In the boudoirs and
salons, Calas was the subject of conversation. In the streets, men
meeting each other would ask, "Have you heard of Calas?" The dead man
had already become a hero and a martyr!

An important point was next reached. It was decided that the case of
Calas should be remitted to a special court of judges appointed to
consider the whole matter. Voltaire himself proceeded to get up the
case. He prepared and revised the memorials, he revised all the
pleadings of the advocates, transforming them into brief, conclusive
arguments, sparkling with wit, reason, and eloquence. The revision of
the process commenced. The people held their breaths while it
proceeded.

At length, in the spring of 1766--four years after Calas had been
broken to death on the wheel--four years after Voltaire had undertaken
to have the unjust decision of the Toulouse magistrates and parliament
reversed, the court of judges, after going completely over the
evidence, pronounced the judgment to have been entirely unfounded!

The decree was accordingly reversed. Jean Calas was declared to have
been innocent. The man was, however, dead. But in order to compensate
his family, the ministry granted 36,000 francs to Calas's widow, on
the express recommendation of the court which reversed the abominable
sentence.[76]

         [Footnote 76: It may be added that, after the reversal of the
         sentence, David, the judge who had first condemned Calas,
         went insane, and died in a madhouse.]

The French people never forgot Voltaire's efforts in this cause.
Notwithstanding all his offences against morals and religion, Voltaire
on this occasion acted on his best impulses. Many years after, in
1778, he visited Paris, where he was received with immense enthusiasm.
He was followed in the streets wherever he went. One day when passing
along the Pont Royal, some person asked, "Who is that man the crowd is
following?" "Ne savez vous pas," answered a common woman, "que c'est
le sauveur de Calas!" Voltaire was more touched with this simple
tribute to his fame than with all the adoration of the Parisians.

It was soon found, however, that there were many persons still
suffering in France from the cruelty of priests and judges; and one of
these occurred shortly after the death of Calas. One of the ordinary
practices of the Catholics was to seize the children of Protestants
and carry them off to some nunnery to be educated at the expense of
their parents. The priests of Toulouse had obtained a _lettre de
cachet_ to take away the daughter of a Protestant named Sirven, to
compel her to change her religion. She was accordingly seized and
carried off to a nunnery. She manifested such reluctance to embrace
Catholicism, and she was treated with such cruelty, that she fled from
the convent in the night, and fell into a well, where she was found
drowned.

The prejudices of the Catholic bigots being very much excited about
this time by the case of Calas, blamed the family of Sirven (in the
same manner as they had done that of Calas) with murdering their
daughter. Foreseeing that they would be apprehended if they remained,
the whole family left the city, and set out for Geneva. After they
left, Sirven was in fact sentenced to death _par contumace_. It was
about the middle of winter when they set out, and Sirven's wife died
of cold on the way, amidst the snows of the Jura.

On his arrival at Geneva, Sirven stated his case to Voltaire, who took
it up as he had done that of Calas. He exerted himself as before.
Advocates of the highest rank offered to conduct Sirven's case; for
public opinion had already made considerable progress. Sirven was
advised to return to Toulouse, and offer himself as a prisoner. He did
so. The case was tried with the same results as before; the advocates,
acting under Voltaire's instructions and with his help, succeeded in
obtaining the judges' unanimous decision that Sirven was innocent of
the crime for which he had already been sentenced to death.

After this, there were no further executions of Protestants in France.
But what became of the Huguenots at the galleys, who still continued
to endure a punishment from day to day, even worse than death
itself?[77] Although, they were often cut off by fever, starvation,
and exposure, many of them contrived to live on to a considerable age.
After the trials of Calas and Sirven, the punishment of the galleys
was evidently drawing to an end. Only two persons were sent to the
galleys during the year in which Pastor Rochette was hanged. But a
circumstance came to light respecting one of the galley-slaves who had
been liberated in that very year (1762), which had the effect of
eventually putting an end to the cruelty.

         [Footnote 77: The Huguenots sometimes owed their release from
         the galleys to money payments made by Protestants (but this
         was done secretly), the price of a galley-slave being about a
         thousand crowns; sometimes they owed it to the influence of
         Protestant princes; but never to the voluntary mercy of the
         Catholics. In 1742, while France was at war with England, and
         Prussia was quietly looking on, Antoine Court made an appeal
         to Frederick the Great, and at his intervention with Louis
         XV. thirty galley-slaves were liberated. The Margrave of
         Bayreuth, Culmbach and his wife, the sister of the Great
         Frederick, afterwards visited the galleys at Toulon, and
         succeeded in obtaining the liberation of several
         galley-slaves.]

The punishment was not, however, abolished by Christian feeling, or by
greater humanity on the part of the Catholics; nor was it abolished
through the ministers of justice, and still less by the order of the
King. It was put an end to by the Stage! As Voltaire, the Deist,
terminated the hanging of Protestants, so did Fenouillot, the player,
put an end to their serving as galley-slaves. The termination of this
latter punishment has a curious history attached to it.

It happened that a Huguenot meeting for worship was held in the
neighbourhood of Nismes, on the first day of January, 1756. The place
of meeting was called the Lecque,[78] situated immediately north of
the Tour Magne, from which the greater part of the city has been
built. It was a favourable place for holding meetings; but it was not
so favourable for those who wished to escape. The assembly had
scarcely been constituted by prayer, when the alarm was given that the
soldiers were upon them! The people fled on all sides. The youngest
and most agile made their escape by climbing the surrounding rocks.

         [Footnote 78: This secret meeting-place of the Huguenots is
         well known from the engraved picture of Boze.]

Amongst these, Jean Fabre, a young silk merchant of Nismes, was
already beyond reach of danger, when he heard that his father had been
made a prisoner. The old man, who was seventy-eight, could not climb
as the others had done, and the soldiers had taken him and were
leading him away. The son, who knew that his father would be sentenced
to the galleys for life, immediately determined, if possible, to
rescue him from this horrible fate. He returned to the group of
soldiers who had his father in charge, and asked them to take him
prisoner in his place. On their refusal, he seized his father and drew
him from their grasp, insisting upon them taking himself instead. The
sergeant in command at first refused to adopt this strange
substitution; but, conquered at last by the tears and prayers of the
son, he liberated the aged man and accepted Jean Fabre as his
prisoner.

Jean Fabre was first imprisoned at Nismes, where he was prevented
seeing any of his friends, including a certain young lady to whom he
was about shortly to be married. He was then transferred to
Montpellier to be judged; where, of course, he was condemned, as he
expected, to be sent to the galleys for life. With this dreadful
prospect before him, of separation from all that he loved--from his
father, for whom he was about to suffer so much; from his betrothed,
who gave up all hope of ever seeing him again--and having no prospect
of being relieved from his horrible destiny, his spirits failed, and
he became seriously ill. But his youth and Christian resignation came
to his aid, and he finally recovered.

The Protestants of Nismes, and indeed of all Languedoc, were greatly
moved by the fate of Jean Fabre. The heroism of his devotion to his
parent soon became known, and the name of the volunteer convict was
in every mouth. The Duc de Mirepoix, then governor of the province,
endeavoured to turn the popular feeling to some account. He offered
pardon to Fabre and Turgis (who had been taken prisoner with him)
provided Paul Rabaut, the chief pastor of the Desert, a hard-working
and indefatigable man, would leave France and reside abroad. But
neither Fabre, nor Rabaut, nor the Huguenots generally, had any
confidence in the mercy of the Catholics, and the proposal was coldly
declined.

Fabre was next sent to Toulon under a strong escort of cavalry. He was
there registered in the class of convicts; his hair was cut close; he
was clothed in the ignominious dress of the galley-slave, and placed
in a galley among murderers and criminals, where he was chained to one
of the worst. The dinner consisted of a porridge of cooked beans and
black bread. At first he could not touch it, and preferred to suffer
hunger. A friend of Fabre, who was informed of his starvation, sent
him some food more savoury and digestible; but his stomach was in such
a state that he could not eat even that. At length he became
accustomed to the situation, though the place was a sort of hell, in
which he was surrounded by criminals in rags, dirt, and vermin, and,
worst of all, distinguished for their abominable vileness of speech.
He was shortly after seized with a serious illness, when he was sent
to the hospital, where he found many Huguenot convicts imprisoned,
like himself, because of their religion.[79]

         [Footnote 79: Letter of Jean Fabre, in Athanase Coquerel's
         "Forçats pour la Foi," 201-3.]

Repeated applications were made to Saint-Florentin, the Secretary of
State, by Fabre's relatives, friends, and fellow Protestants for his
liberation, but without result. After he had been imprisoned for some
years, a circumstance happened which more than anything else
exasperated his sufferings. The young lady to whom he was engaged had
an offer of marriage made to her by a desirable person, which her
friends were anxious that she should accept. Her father had been
struck by paralysis, and was poor and unable to maintain himself as
well as his daughter. He urged that she should give up Fabre, now
hopelessly imprisoned for life, and accept her new lover.

Fabre himself was consulted on the subject; his conscience was
appealed to, and how did he decide? It was only after the bitterest
struggle, that he determined on liberating his betrothed. He saw no
prospect of his release, and why should he sacrifice her? Let her no
longer be bound up with his fearful fate, but be happy with another if
she could.

The young lady yielded, though not without great misgivings. The day
for her marriage with her new lover was fixed; but, at the last
moment, she relented. Her faithfulness and love for the heroic
galley-slave had never been shaken, and she resolved to remain
constant to him, to remain unmarried if need be, or to wait for his
liberation until death!

It is probable that her noble decision determined Fabre and Fabre's
friends to make a renewed effort for his liberation. At last, after
having been more than six years a galley-slave, he bethought him of a
method of obtaining at least a temporary liberty. He proposed--without
appealing to Saint-Florentin, who was the bitter enemy of the
Protestants--to get his case made known to the Duc de Choiseul,
Minister of Marine. This nobleman was a just man, and it had been in a
great measure through his influence that the judgment of Calas had
been reconsidered and reversed.

Fabre, while on the rowers' bench, had often met with a M. Johannot, a
French Protestant, settled at Frankfort-on-Maine, to whom he stated
his case. It may be mentioned that Huguenot refugees, on their visits
to France, often visited the Protestant prisoners at the galleys,
relieved their wants, and made intercession for them with the outside
world. It may also be incidentally mentioned that this M. Johannot was
the ancestor of two well-known painters and designers, Alfred and
Tony, who have been the illustrators of some of our finest artistic
works.

Johannot made the case of Fabre known to some French officers whom he
met at Frankfort, interested them greatly in his noble character and
self-sacrifice, and the result was that before long Fabre obtained,
directly from the Duc de Choiseul, leave of absence from the position
of galley-slave. The annoyance of Saint-Florentin, Minister of State,
was so well-known, that Fabre, on his liberation, was induced to
conceal himself. Nor could he yet marry his promised wife, as he had
not been discharged, but was only on leave of absence; and
Saint-Florentin obstinately refused to reverse the sentence that had
been pronounced against him.

In the meantime, Fabre's name was becoming celebrated. He had no idea,
while privately settled at Ganges as a silk stocking maker, that great
people in France were interesting themselves about his fate. The
Duchesse de Grammont, sister of the Duc de Choiseul, had heard about
him from her brother; and the Prince de Beauvau, governor of
Languedoc, the Duchesse de Villeroy, and many other distinguished
personages, were celebrating his heroism.

Inquiry was made of the sergeant who had originally apprehended Fabre,
upon his offering himself in exchange for his father (long since
dead), and the sergeant confirmed the truth of the noble and generous
act. At the same time, M. Alison, first consul at Nismes, confirmed
the statement by three witnesses, in presence of the secretary of the
Prince de Beauvau. The result was, that Jean Fabre was completely
exonerated from the charge on account of which he had been sent to the
galleys. He was now a free man, and at last married the young lady who
had loved him so long and so devotedly.

One day, to his extreme surprise, Fabre received from the Duc de
Choiseul a packet containing a drama, in which he found his own
history related in verse, by Fenouillot de Falbaire. It was entitled
"The Honest Criminal." Fabre had never been a criminal, except in
worshipping God according to his conscience, though that had for
nearly a hundred years been pronounced a crime by the law of France.

The piece, which was of no great merit as a tragedy, was at first
played before the Duchesse de Villeroy and her friends, with great
applause, Mdlle. Clairon playing the principal female part.
Saint-Florentin prohibited the playing of the piece in public,
protesting to the last against the work and the author. Voltaire
played it at Ferney, and Queen Marie Antoinette had it played in her
presence at Versailles. It was not until 1789 that the piece was
played in the theatres of Paris, when it had a considerable success.

We do not find that any Protestants were sent to be galley-slaves
after 1762, the year that Calas was executed. A reaction against this
barbarous method of treating men for differences of opinion seems to
have set in; or, perhaps, it was because most men were ceasing to
believe in the miraculous powers of the priests, for which the
Protestants had so long been hanged and made galley-slaves.

After the liberation of Fabre in 1762, other galley-slaves were
liberated from time to time. Thus, in the same year, Jean Albiges and
Jean Barran were liberated after eight years of convict life. They had
been condemned for assisting at Protestant assemblies. Next year,
Maurice was liberated; he had been condemned for life for the same
reason.

While Voltaire had been engaged in the case of Calas he asked the Duc
de Choiseul for the liberation of a galley-slave. The man for whom he
interceded, had been a convict twenty years for attending a Protestant
meeting. Of course, Voltaire cared nothing for his religion, believing
Catholicism and Protestantism to be only two forms of the same
superstition. The name of this galley-slave was Claude Chaumont. Like
nearly all the other convicts he was a working man--a little
dark-faced shoemaker. Some Protestant friends he had at Geneva
interceded with Voltaire for his liberation.

On Chaumont's release in 1764, he waited upon his deliverer to thank
him. "What!" said Voltaire, on first seeing him, "my poor little bit
of a man, have they put _you_ in the galleys? What could they have
done with you? The idea of sending a little creature to the
galley-chain, for no other crime than that of praying to God in bad
French!"[80] Voltaire ended by handing the impoverished fellow a sum
of money to set him up in the world again, when he left the house the
happiest of men.

         [Footnote 80: "Voltaire et les Genevois," par J. Gaberel,
         74-5.]

We may briefly mention a few of the last of the galley-slaves. Daniel
Bic and Jean Cabdié, liberated in 1764, for attending religious
meetings. Both were condemned for life, and had been at the
galley-chain for ten years.

Jean Pierre Espinas, an attorney, of St. Felix de Châteauneuf, in
Viverais, who had been condemned for life for having given shelter to
a pastor, was released in 1765, at the age of sixty-seven, after being
chained at the galleys for twenty-five years.

Jean Raymond, of Fangères, the father of six children, who had been a
galley-slave for thirteen years, was liberated in 1767. Alexandre
Chambon, a labourer, more than eighty years old, condemned for life in
1741, for attending a religious meeting, was released in 1769, on the
entreaty of Voltaire, after being a galley-slave for twenty-eight
years. His friends had forgotten him, and on his release he was
utterly destitute and miserable.[81]

         [Footnote 81: "Lettres inédites des Voltaire," publiées par
         Athanase Coquerel fils, 247.]

In 1772, three galley-slaves were liberated from their chains. André
Guisard, a labourer, aged eighty-two, Jean Roque, and Louis Tregon, of
the same class, all condemned for life for attending religious
meetings. They had all been confined at the chain for twenty years.

The two last galley-slaves were liberated in 1775, during the first
year of the reign of Louis XVI., and close upon the outbreak of the
French Revolution. They had been quite forgotten, until Court de
Gébelin, son of Antoine Court, discovered them. When he applied for
their release to M. de Boyne, Minister of Marine, he answered that
there were no more Protestant convicts at the galleys; at least, he
believed so. Shortly after, Turgot succeeded Boyne, and application
was made to him. He answered that there was no need to recommend such
objects to him for liberation, as they were liberated already.

On the two old men being told they were released, they burst into
tears; but were almost afraid of returning to the world which no
longer knew them. One of them was Antoine Rialle, a tailor of Aoste,
in Dauphiny, who had been condemned by the parliament of Grenoble to
the galleys for life "for contravening the edicts of the King
concerning religion." He was seventy-eight years old, and had been a
galley-slave for thirty years.

The other, Paul Achard, had been a shoemaker of Châtillon, also in
Dauphiny. He was condemned to be a galley-slave for life by the
parliament of Grenoble, for having given shelter to a pastor. Achard
had also been confined at the galleys for thirty years.

It is not known when the last Huguenot women were liberated from the
Tour de Constance, at Aiguesmortes. It would probably be about the
time when the last Huguenots were liberated from the galleys. An
affecting picture has been left by an officer who visited the prison
at the release of the last prisoners. "I accompanied," he says, "the
Prince de Beauvau (the intendant of Languedoc under Louis XVI.) in a
survey which he made of the coast. Arriving at Aiguesmortes, at the
gate of the Tour de Constance, we found at the entrance the principal
keeper, who conducted us by dark steps through a great gate, which
opened with an ominous noise, and over which was inscribed a motto
from Dante--'Lasciate ogni speranza voi che'ntrate.'

"Words fail me to describe the horror with which we regarded a scene
to which we were so unaccustomed--a frightful and affecting picture,
in which the interest was heightened by disgust. We beheld a large
circular apartment, deprived of air and of light, in which fourteen
females still languished in misery. It was with difficulty that the
Prince smothered his emotion; and doubtless it was the first time that
these unfortunate creatures had there witnessed compassion depicted
upon a human countenance; I still seem to behold the affecting
apparition. They fell at our feet, bathed in tears, and speechless,
until, emboldened by our expressions of sympathy, they recounted to us
their sufferings. Alas! all their crime consisted in having been
attached to the same religion as Henry IV. The youngest of these
martyrs was more than fifty years old. She was but _eight_ when first
imprisoned for having accompanied her mother to hear a religious
service, and her punishment had continued until now!"[82]

         [Footnote 82: Froissard, "Nismes et ses Environs," ii. 217.]

After the liberation of the last of the galley-slaves there were no
further apprehensions nor punishments of Protestants. The priests had
lost their power; and the secular authority no longer obeyed their
behests. The nation had ceased to believe in them; in some places they
were laughed at; in others they were detested. They owed this partly
to their cruelty and intolerance, partly to their luxury and
self-indulgence amidst the poverty of the people, and partly to the
sarcasms of the philosophers, who had become more powerful in France
than themselves. "It is not enough," said Voltaire, "that we prove
intolerance to be horrible; we must also prove to the French that it
is ridiculous."

In looking back at the sufferings of the Huguenots remaining in France
since the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes; at the purity,
self-denial, honesty, and industry of their lives; at the devotion
with which they adhered to religious duty and the worship of God; we
cannot fail to regard them--labourers and peasants though they
were--as amongst the truest, greatest, and worthiest heroes of their
age. When society in France was falling to pieces; when its men and
women were ceasing to believe in themselves and in each other; when
the religion of the State had become a mass of abuse, consistent only
in its cruelty; when the debauchery of its kings[83] had descended
through the aristocracy to the people, until the whole mass was
becoming thoroughly corrupt; these poor Huguenots seem to have been
the only constant and true men, the only men holding to a great idea,
for which they were willing to die--for they were always ready for
martyrdom by the rack, the gibbet, or the galleys, rather than forsake
the worship of God freely and according to conscience.

         [Footnote 83: Such was the dissoluteness of the manners of
         the court, that no less than 500,000,000 francs of the public
         debt, or £20,000,000 sterling, had been incurred for expenses
         too ignominious to bear the light, or even to be named in the
         public accounts. It appears from an authentic document,
         quoted in Soulavie's history, that in the sixteen months
         immediately preceding the death of Louis XV., Madame du Barry
         (originally a courtesan,) had drawn from the royal treasury
         no less than 2,450,000 francs, or equal to about £200,000 of
         our present money. ["Histoire de la Décadence de la Monarchie
         Française," par Soulavie l'Aîné, iii. 330.] "La corruption,"
         says Lacretelle, "entrait dans les plus paisibles ménages,
         dans les familles les plus obscures. Elle [Madame du Barri]
         était savamment et longtemps combinée par ceux qui servaient
         les débauches de Louis. Des émissaires étaient employées à
         séduire des filles qui n'étaient point encore nubiles, à
         combattre dans de jeunes femmes des principes de pudeur et de
         fidélité. Amant de grade, il livrait à la prostitution
         publique celles de ses sujettes qu'il avait prématurement
         corrompues. Il souffrait que les enfans de ses infâmes
         plaisirs partageassent la destinée obscure et dangereuse de
         ceux qu'un père n'avoue point." LACRETELLE, _Histoire de
         France pendant le xviii Siècle_, iii. 171-173.]

But their persecution was now in a great measure at an end. It is
true the Protestants were not recognised, but they nevertheless held
their worship openly, and were not interfered with. When Louis XVI.
succeeded to the throne in 1774, on the administration of the oath for
the extermination of heretics denounced by the Church, the Archbishop
of Toulouse said to him: "It is reserved for you to strike the final
blow against Calvinism in your dominions. Command the dispersion of
the schismatic assemblies of the Protestants, exclude the sectarians,
without distinction, from all offices of the public administration,
and you will insure among your subjects the unity of the true
Christian religion."

No attention was paid to this and similar appeals for the restoration
of intolerance. On the contrary, an Edict of Toleration was issued by
Louis XVI. in 1787, which, though granting a legal existence to the
Protestants, nevertheless set forth that "The Catholic, Apostolic, and
Roman religion alone shall continue to enjoy the right of public
worship in our realm."

Opinion, however, moved very fast in those days. The Declaration of
Rights of 1789 overthrew the barriers which debarred the admission of
Protestants to public offices. On the question of tolerance, Rabaut
Saint-Etienne, son of Paul Rabaut, who sat in the National Assembly
for Nismes, insisted on the freedom of the Protestants to worship God
after their accustomed forms. He said he represented a constituency of
360,000, of whom 120,000 were Protestants. The penal laws against the
worship of the Reformed, he said, had never been formally abolished.
He claimed the rights of Frenchmen for two millions of useful
citizens. It was not toleration he asked for, _it was liberty_.

"Toleration!" he exclaimed; "sufferance! pardon! clemency! ideas
supremely unjust towards the Protestants, so long as it is true that
difference of religion, that difference of opinion, is not a crime!
Toleration! I demand that toleration should be proscribed in its turn,
and deemed an iniquitous word, dealing with us as citizens worthy of
pity, as criminals to whom pardon is to be granted!"[84]

         [Footnote 84: "History of the Protestants of France," by G.
         de Félice, book v. sect. i.]

The motion before the House was adopted with a modification, and all
Frenchmen, without distinction of religious opinions, were declared
admissible to all offices and employments. Four months later, on the
15th March, 1790, Rabaut Saint-Etienne himself, son of the long
proscribed pastor of the Desert, was nominated President of the
Constituent Assembly, succeeding to the chair of the Abbé Montesquieu.

He did not, however, occupy the position long. In the struggles of the
Convention he took part with the Girondists, and refused to vote for
the death of Louis XVI. He maintained an obstinate struggle against
the violence of the Mountain. His arrest was decreed; he was dragged
before the revolutionary tribunal, and condemned to be executed within
twenty-four hours.

The horrors of the French Revolution hide the doings of Protestantism
and Catholicism alike for several years, until Buonaparte came into
power. He recognised Catholicism as the established religion, and paid
for the maintenance of the bishops and priests. He also protected
Protestantism, the members of which were entitled to all the benefits
secured to the other Christian communions, "with the exception of
pecuniary subvention."

The comparative liberty which the Protestants of France had enjoyed
under the Republic and the Empire seemed to be in some peril at the
restoration of the Bourbons. The more bigoted Roman Catholics of the
South hailed their return as the precursors of renewed persecution:
and they raised the cry of "Un Dieu, un Roi, une Foi."

The Protestant mayor of Nismes was publicly insulted, and compelled to
resign his office. The mob assembled in the streets and sang ferocious
songs, threatening to "make black puddings of the blood of the
Calvinists' children."[85] Another St. Bartholomew was even
threatened; the Protestants began to conceal themselves, and many fled
for refuge to the Upper Cevennes. Houses were sacked, their inmates
outraged, and in many cases murdered.

         [Footnote 85: See the Rev. Mark Wilks's "History of the
         Persecutions endured by the Protestants of the South of
         France, 1814, 1815, 1816." Longmans, 1821.]

The same scenes occurred in most of the towns and villages of the
department of Gard; and the authorities seemed to be powerless to
prevent them. The Protestants at length began to take up arms for
their defence; the peasantry of the Cevennes brought from their secret
places the rusty arms which their fathers had wielded more than a
century before; and another Camisard war seemed imminent.

In the meantime, the subject of the renewed Protestant persecutions in
the South of France was, in May, 1816, brought under the notice of the
British House of Commons by Sir Samuel Romilly--himself the descendant
of a Languedoc Huguenot--in a powerful speech; and although the
motion was opposed by the Government, there can be little doubt that
the discussion produced its due effect; for the Bourbon Government,
itself becoming alarmed, shortly after adopted vigorous measures, and
the persecution was brought to an end.

Since that time the Protestants of France have remained comparatively
unmolested. Evidences have not been wanting to show that the
persecuting spirit of the priest-party has not become extinct. While
the author was in France in 1870, to visit the scenes of the wars of
the Camisards, he observed from the papers that a French deputy had
recently brought a case before the Assembly, in which a Catholic curé
of Ville-d'Avray refused burial in the public cemetery to the corpse
of a young English lady, because she was a Protestant, and remitted it
to the place allotted for criminals and suicides. The body accordingly
lay for eighteen days in the cabin of the gravedigger, until it could
be transported to the cemetery of Sèvres, where it was finally
interred.

But the people of France, as well as the government, have become too
indifferent about religion generally, to persecute any one on its
account. The nation is probably even now suffering for its
indifference, and the spectacle is a sad one. It is only the old, old
story. The sins of the fathers are being visited on the children.
Louis XIV. and the French nation of his time sowed the wind, and their
descendants at the Revolution reaped the whirlwind. And who knows how
much of the sufferings of France during the last few years may have
been due to the ferocious intolerance, the abandonment to vicious
pleasures, the thirst for dominion, and the hunger for "glory," which
above all others characterized the reign of that monarch who is in
history miscalled "the Great?"

It will have been noted that the chief scenes of the revival of
Protestantism described in the preceding pages occurred in Languedoc
and the South of France, where the chief strength of the Huguenots
always lay. The Camisard civil war which happened there, was not
without its influence. The resolute spirit which it had evoked
survived. The people were purified by suffering, and though they did
not conquer civil liberty, they continued to live strong, hardy,
virtuous lives. When Protestantism was at length able to lift up its
head after so long a period of persecution, it was found that, during
its long submergence, it had lost neither in numbers, in moral or
intellectual vigour, nor in industrial power.

To this day the Protestants of Languedoc cherish the memory of their
wanderings and worshippings in the Desert; and they still occasionally
hold their meetings in the old frequented places. Not far from Nismes
are several of these ancient meeting-places of the persecuted, to
which we have above referred. One of them is about two miles from the
city, in the bed of a mountain torrent. The worshippers arranged
themselves along the slopes of the narrow valley, the pastor preaching
to them from the grassy level in the hollow, while sentinels posted
on the adjoining heights gave warning of the approach of the enemy.
Another favourite place of meeting was the hollow of an ancient quarry
called the Echo, from which the Romans had excavated much of the stone
used in the building of the city. The congregation seated themselves
around the craggy sides, the preacher's pulpit being placed in the
narrow pass leading into the quarry. Notwithstanding all the
vigilance of the sentinels, many persons of both sexes and various
ages were often dragged from the Echo to imprisonment or death. Even
after the persecutions had ceased, these meeting-places continued to
be frequented by the Protestants of Nismes, and they were sometimes
attended by five or six thousand persons, and on sacrament days by
even double that number.

Although the Protestants of Languedoc for the most part belong to the
National Reformed Church, the independent character of the people has
led them to embrace Protestantism in other forms. Thus, the
Evangelical Church is especially strong in the South, whilst the
Evangelical Methodists number more congregations and worshippers in
Languedoc than in all the rest of France. There are also in the
Cevennes several congregations of Moravian Brethren. But perhaps one
of the most curious and interesting issues of the Camisard war is the
branch of the Society of Friends still existing in Languedoc--the only
representatives of that body in France, or indeed on the European
continent.

When the Protestant peasants of the Cevennes took up arms and
determined to resist force by force, there were several influential
men amongst them who kept back and refused to join them. They held
that the Gospel they professed did not warrant them in taking up arms
and fighting, even against the enemies who plundered and persecuted
them. And when they saw the excesses into which the Camisards were led
by the war of retaliation on which they had entered, they were the
more confirmed in their view that the attitude which the rebels had
assumed, was inconsistent with the Christian religion.

After the war had ceased, these people continued to associate
together, maintaining a faithful testimony against war, refusing to
take oaths, and recognising silent worship, without dependence on
human acquirements. They were not aware of the existence of a similar
body in England and America until the period of the French Revolution,
when some intercourse began to take place between them.

In 1807, Stephen Grellet, an American Friend, of French origin,
visited Languedoc, and held many religious meetings in the towns and
villages of the Lower Cevennes, which were not only attended by the
Friends of Congenies, St. Hypolite, Granges, St. Grilles, Fontane's,
Vauvert, Quissac, and other places in the neighbourhood of Nismes, but
by the inhabitants at large, Roman Catholics as well as Protestants.
At that time, as now, Congenies was regarded as the centre of the
district principally inhabited by the Friends, and there they possess
a large and commodious meeting-house, built for the purpose of
worship.

At the time of Stephen Grellet's visit, he especially mentioned Louis
Majolier as "a father and a pillar" amongst the little flock.[86] And
it may not be unworthy to note that the daughter of the same Louis
Majolier is at the present time one of the most acceptable female
preachers of the Society of Friends in England.

         [Footnote 86: "Life of Stephen Grellet," third edition.
         London, 1870.]

It may also be mentioned, in passing, that there still exist amongst
the Vosges mountains the remnants of an ancient sect--the Anabaptists
of Munster--who hold views in many respects similar to those of the
Friends. Amongst other things, they testify against war as
unchristian, and refuse under any circumstances to carry arms. Rather
than do so, they have at different times suffered imprisonment,
persecution, and even death. The republic of 1793 respected their
scruples, and did not require the Anabaptists to fight in the ranks,
but employed them as pioneers and drivers, while Napoleon made them
look after the wounded on the field of battle, and attend to the
waggon train and ambulances.[87] And we understand that they continue
to be similarly employed down to the present time.

         [Footnote 87: Michel, "Les Anabaptistes des Vosges." Paris,
         1862.]

       *       *       *       *       *

It forms no part of our subject to discuss the present state of the
French Protestant Church. It has lost no part of its activity during
the recent political changes. Although its clergy had for some time
been supported by the State, they had not met in public synod until
June, 1872, after an interval of more than two hundred years. During
that period many things had become changed. Rationalism had invaded
Evangelicalism. Without a synod, or a settled faith, the Protestant
churches were only so many separate congregations, often representing
merely individual interests. In fact, the old Huguenot Church required
reorganization; and great results are expected from the proceedings
adopted at the recently held synod of the French Protestant
Church.[88]

         [Footnote 88: The best account of the proceedings at this
         synod is given in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for January, 1873.]

With respect to the French Catholic Church, its relative position to
the Protestants remains the same as before. But it has no longer the
power to persecute. The Gallican Church has been replaced by the
Ultramontane Church, but its impulses are no kindlier, though it has
become "Infallible."

The principal movement of the Catholic priests of late years has been
to get up appearances of the Virgin. The Virgin appears, usually, to
a child or two, and pilgrimages are immediately got up to the scene of
her visit. By getting up religious movements of this kind, the priests
and their followers believe that France will yet be helped towards the
_Revanche_, which she is said to long for.

But pilgrimages will not make men; and if France wishes to be free,
she will have to adopt some other methods. Bismarck will never be put
down by pilgrimages. It was a sad saying of Father Hyacinthe at
Geneva, that "France is bound to two influences--Superstition and
Irreligion."




MEMOIRS OF DISTINGUISHED HUGUENOT REFUGEES.




I.

STORY OF SAMUEL DE PÉCHELS.


When Louis XIV. revoked the Edict of Nantes, he issued a number of
decrees or edicts for the purpose of stamping out Protestantism in
France. Each decree had the effect of an Act of Parliament. Louis
combined in himself the entire powers of the State. The King's word
was law. "_L'état c'est Moi_" was his maxim.

The Decrees which Louis issued were tyrannical, brutal, and cowardly.
Some were even ludicrous in their inhumanity. Thus Protestant grooms
were forbidden to give riding-lessons; Protestant barbers were
forbidden to cut hair; Protestant washerwomen were forbidden to wash
clothes; Protestant servants were forbidden to serve either Roman
Catholic or Protestant mistresses. They must all be "converted." A
profession of the Roman Catholic faith was required from simple
artisans--from shoemakers, tailors, masons, carpenters, and
such-like--before they were permitted to labour at their respective
callings.

The cruelty went further. Protestants were forbidden to be employed as
librarians and printers. They could not even be employed as labourers
upon the King's highway. They could not serve in any public office
whatever. They were excluded from the collection of the taxes, and
from all government departments. Protestant apothecaries must shut up
their shops. Protestant advocates were forbidden to plead before the
courts. Protestant doctors were forbidden to practise medicine and
surgery. The _sages-femmes_ must necessarily be of the Roman Catholic
religion.

The cruelty was extended to the family. Protestant parents were
forbidden to instruct their children in their own faith. They were
enjoined, under a heavy penalty, to have their children baptized by
the Roman Catholic priest, and brought up in the Roman Catholic
religion. When the law was disobeyed, the priests were empowered to
seize and carry off the children, and educate them, at the expense of
the parents, in monasteries and nunneries.

Then, as regards the profession of the Protestant religion:--It was
decreed by the King, that all the Protestant temples in France should
be demolished, or converted to other uses. Protestant pastors were
ordered to quit the country within fifteen days after the date of the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. If found in the country after that
period, they were condemned to death. A reward of five thousand five
hundred livres was offered for the apprehension of any Protestant
pastor. When apprehended he was hung. Protestant worship was
altogether prohibited. If any Protestants were found singing psalms,
or engaged in prayer, in their own houses, they were liable to have
their entire property confiscated, and to be sent to the galleys for
life.

These monstrous decrees were carried into effect--at a time when
France reigned supreme in the domain of intellect, poetry, and the
arts--in the days of Racine, Corneille, Molière--of Bossuet,
Bourdaloue, and Fénélon. Louis XIV. had the soldier, the hangman, and
the priest at his command; but they all failed him. They could
imprison, they could torture, they could kill, they could make the
Protestants galley-slaves; they could burn their Bibles, and deprive
them of everything that they valued; but the impregnable rights of
conscience defied them.

The only thing left for the Protestants was to fly from France in all
directions. They took refuge in Switzerland, Germany, Holland, and
England. The flight from France had begun before the Revocation of the
Edict of Nantes, but after that act the flight rapidly increased. Not
less than a million of persons are supposed to have escaped from
France in consequence of the Revocation.