| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
 Bad Advertisement? Are you a Christian? Online Store: |
PREVIOUS CHAPTER - NEXT CHAPTER - HELP 
CHAPTER 1 - THE REFORMATION — INVENTION OF PRINTING General ferment in Europe in the 16th century
CHAPTER 2 - EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF PALISSY The life of Palissy illustrative of his epoch
CHAPTER 3 - PERSECUTIONS OF THE REFORMED Huguenot men of genius
CHAPTER 4 - THE DUKE OF ALVA IN FLANDERS — MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. Prosperity of the Low Countries
CHAPTER 5 - RELATIONS OF ENGLAND WITH FRANCE AND SPAIN England at the accession of Elizabeth
CHAPTER 6 - ETTLEMENTS AND INDUSTRIES OF THE PROTESTANT REFUGEES IN ENGLAND Early industry of England
CHAPTER 7 - EARLY WALLCON AND FRENCH CHURCHES IN ENGLAND Desire of the refugees for freedom of worship
CHAPTER 8 - THE EDICT OF NANTES — COLBERT AND LOUIS XIV Accession of Henry IV. in France
CHAPTER 9 - THE HUGUENOT PERSECUTIONS UNDER LOUIS XIV Enmity of Louis XIV. to the HuguenOts
CHAPTER 10 - RENEWED FLIGHT OF THE HUGUENOTS Rejoicings at Rome on the revocation of the Edict
CHAPTER 11 - THE HUGUENOTS AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION OF The countries of the Refuge
CHAPTER 12 - ADVENTURES OF DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET
Dumont de Bostaquet, a Protestant gentleman of Normandy
CHAPTER 13 - HUGUENOT OFFICERS IN THE BRITISH SERVICE Henry, second Marquis de Ruvigny, distinguishes himself at the battle of Augbrim, and is created Earl of Galway
CHAPTER 14 - HUGUENOT MEN OF SCIENCE AND LEARNING The Huguenots.refugees for liberty
CHAPTER 15 - HUGUENOT SETTLEMENTS IN ENGLAND
Flight of the manufacturing class from France
CHAPTER 16 - THE HUGUENOT CHURCHES IN ENGLAND Large number of refugee churches in London
CHAPTER 17 - HUGUENOT SETTLEMENTS IN IRELAND Attempts to establish the linen-trade in Ireland by refugees
CHAPTER 18 - DESCENDANTS OF THE REFUGEES The descendants of the refugee Flemings and French still recognisable in England
CHAPTER 19 - CONCLUSION
Effects of the persecutions in Flanders and France
LIST OF DISTLNGUISHED REFUGEE PROTESTANTS AND THEIR DESCENDANTS ERRATUM In Chapter 18 “Catherton” should read “Carlow.” CHAPTER - RISE OF THE HUGUENOTS A GENERAL ferment pervaded Europe about the beginning of the sixteenth century. The minds of men in all countries were fretting under the trammels which bound them. Privilege prevailed everywhere; the people could not breathe freely; they felt themselves enslaved, and longed for liberty. At the same time intelligence was advancing. The leaders of thought were gradually adding to the domain of science. Important inventions had been made; a new world had just been discovered by Columbus; and great thinkers were casting their thoughts abroad on the world, stimulating other minds to action, and pointing the way to greater freedom. But a great barrier stood in the way of all further advancement in the direction of human enfranchisement and liberty. The Papal Church upheld despotism, arrested science, suppressed thought, and barred progress. Wherever free inquiry showed itself, whether in religion or science, the Church endeavored to crush it. For this purpose, the Inquisition was established. Savonarola was burnt at Florence, and Huss at Constance; whilst, at Rome, Bruno was condemned to the stake, and Galileo was imprisoned, if he was not even put to the torture, and compelled to recant his theory of the earth’s motion round the sun. Meanwhile, the Church itself was seen to be a mass of abuses; and the feeling of its intolerableness at length broke out into a general demand for its reformation. There were many eminent churchmen who sought to reform it from within. Amongst these, St. Bernard and others raised their voices long before the sixteenth century; but the corrupt influences which prevailed in the Church were too powerful to be overcome, and the reform was left to be done from without. The profligacy and despotism of the Papal Church might, however, have continued for centuries longer, had not its agents proceeded to insult too audaciously the common sense and conscience of mankind, by the open sale of indulgences to commit sin, as well as absolutions for sins that had been committed. The young and voluptuous Pope Leo X., who succeeded the warlike Pope Julius II. in 1513, entertained the ambition of rearing an ecclesiastical fabric which should surpass in magnificence all that had preceded it. He surrounded himself with the greatest artists: Bramante, who designed it; Raphael, who painted its galleries; and Michael Angelo, who finished it; and the cathedral of St. Peter’s at Rome was at length achieved. But it was at an enormous cost; for not only did it impoverish the Papal exchequer, but it split the Papal Church itself in pieces. The sale of Indulgences was invented for the purpose of replenishing the Roman exchequer, and agents were sent all over Europe to raise funds by this means. Germany was then the great stronghold of the Papal treasury. In Spain and France it was the will of the King, rather than of the Pope, that ruled; but in Germany the civil authority was in a great measure left to the ecclesiastical power. In Germany, therefore, the first great efforts were made to fill the coffers of Rome by the sale of indulgences; and among the most zealous of all the agents who were so employed, was the Dominican monk, John Tetzel, who acted in subordination to Albert of Brandenburg, Elector of Mentz, the principal commissary of the Pope. The traffic of indulgences was carried on openly. Indulgences were sold by auction, at beat of drum, in public places. They were sold by wholesale and retail. The traffic had its directors and sub-directors, — its officers, its tariffs, its travelling factors; and those agents were employed who best knew the art of deceiving and cozening the people. Never had such privileges to commit sin been offered to the world, as those which were now openly hawked about by Tetzel. A regular tariff was fixed,1 — so much for little sins, so much for great sins, so much for eating meat on Fridays, so much for lying, so much for theft, so much for adultery, so much for child-murder, so much for assassination. Bigamy cost only six ducats. This abominable traffic could not fail to rouse the indignation of good men, who saw, with affliction, people of all ranks running after Tetzel to buy indulgence for committing sin; and at length the public conscience spoke through the voices of bold and earnest men, and, most loudly of all, through that of Martin Luther. In the meantime a great invention had been made, which gave wings to Luther’s words, and accelerated the coming Reformation in a remarkable degree. Probably no invention has exercised a greater influence upon modern civilisation than that of Printing, While it has been the mother and preserver of many other inventions which have changed the face of society, it has also afforded facilities for the intercourse of mind with mind — of living men with each other, as well as with the thinkers of past generations, — which have evoked an extraordinary degree of mental activity, and exercised a powerful influence on the development of modern history. Although letters were diligently cultivated long before the invention of printing, and many valuable books existed in manuscript, and seminaries of learning flourished in all civilised countries, knowledge was for the most part confined to a comparatively small number of persons. The manuscripts which contained the treasured thoughts of the ancient poets, scholars, and men of science, were so scarce and dear that they were frequently sold for double or triple their weight in gold. In some cases they were considered so precious, that they were conveyed by deed, like landed estates. In the thirteenth century, a manuscript copy of the Romance of the Rose was sold at Paris for over 33 pounds sterling. A copy of the Bible cost from 40 pounds to 60 pounds for the writing only; for it took an expert copyist about ten months’ labor to make one. 2 Such being the case, it will be obvious that books were then for the most part the luxury of the rich, and comparatively inaccessible to the great body of the people. Even the most advanced minds could exercise but little influence on their age. They were able to address themselves to only a very limited number of their fellow-men, and in most cases their influence died with them. The results of study, investigation, and experience remaining unrecorded, knowledge was for the most part transmitted orally, and often inaccurately. Thus many arts and inventions discovered by individuals became lost to the race, and a point of social stagnation was arrived at, beyond which further progress seemed improbable. This state of things was entirely changed by the invention of printing. It gave a new birth to letters; it enabled books to be perpetualy renovated and multiplied at a comparatively moderate cost, and to diffuse the light which they contained over a much larger number of minds; it gave a greatly increased power to individuals and to society, by facilitating the intercourse of educated men of all countries with each other. Active thinkers were no longer restricted by the limits of their town or parish, or even of their nation or epoch; and the knowledge that their printed words would have an effect where their spoken, words did not reach, could not fail to stimulate the highest order of minds into action. The permanency of invention and discovery was thus secured; the most advanced point of one generation became the starting-point of the next; and the results of the labors of one age were carried forward into all the ages that succeeded. The invention of printing, like most others, struggled slowly and obscurely into life. The wooden blocks or tablets of Laurence Coster were superseded by separate types of the same material. Gutenberg of Mentz next employed large types cut in metal, from which the impressions were taken. And, finally, Gutenberg’s associate Schoeffer cut the characters in a matrix, after which the types were cast, and thus completed the art as it now remains. It is a remarkable circumstance, that the first book which Gutenberg undertook to print with his cut-metal types, was a folio edition of the Bible in the Lain Vulgate, consisting of 641 leaves. When the immense labor involved in carrying out such a work is considered — the cutting by hand, with imperfect tools, of each separate type required for the setting of a folio page, and the difficulties to be overcome with respect to vellum, paper, ink, and presswork — one cannot but feel astonished at the boldness of the undertaking; nor can it be matter of surprise that the execution of the work occupied Gutenberg and his associates a period of from seven to eight years. We do not, however, suppose that Gutenberg and his associates were induced to execute this first printed Bible through any more lofty motive than that of earning a considerable sum of money by the enterprise. They were, doubtless, tempted to undertake it by the immense prices for which manuscript copies of the Bible were then sold; and they merely sought to produce, by one set of operations, a number of duplicates in imitation of the written character, which they hoped to be able to sell at the manuscript prices. But, as neither Gutenberg nor Schoeffer were rich men, and as the work involved great labor and expense while in progress, they found it necessary to invite some capitalist to join them; and hence their communication of the secret to John Faust, the wealthy goldsmith of Mentz, who agreed to join them in their venture, and supply them with the necessary means for carrying out the undertaking. The first edition of the printed Bible having been disposed of, without the secret having transpired, Faust and Schoeffer brought out a second edition in 1462, which they again offered for sale at the manuscript prices. Faust carried a number of copies to Paris to dispose of, and sold several of them for 500 or 600 crowns, — the price then paid for manuscript Bibles. But great was the astonishment of the Parisian copyists when Faust, anxious to dispose of the remainder, lowered his price to sixty and then to thirty crowns! The copies sold having been compared with each other, were found to be exactly uniform! It was immediately inferred that these Bibles must be produced by magic, as such an extraordinary uniformity was considered entirely beyond the reach of human contrivance. Information was forthwith given to the police against Faust as a magician. His lodgings were searched, when a number of Bibles were found there complete. The red ink, with which they were embellished, was supposed to be his blood. It was seriously believed that he was in league with the devil; and he was carried off to prison, from which he was only delivered upon making a full revelation of the secret. Several other books, of less importance, were printed by Gutenberg and Schoeffer at Mentz; two editions of the Psalter, a Catholicon, a Codex Psalmorum, and an edition of Cicero’s Offices; but they were printed in such small numbers, and were sold at such high prices, that, like the manuscripts which they superseded, they were only purchasable by kings, nobles, collegiate bodies, and rich ecclesiastical establishments. It was only after the lapse of many years, when the manufacture of paper had become improved, and Schoeffer had invented his method of cutting the characters in a matrix, and casting the type in quantity, that books could be printed in such forms as to be accessible to the great body of the people. In the meanwhile, the printing establishments of Gutenberg and Schoeffer were broken up by the sack and plunder of Mentz by the Archbishop Adolphus in 1462. Their workmen having thus become dispersed, and being no longer bound to secrecy, they shortly after carried with them the invention of the new art into nearly every country in Europe. Wherever the printers set up their trade, they usually began by issuing an edition of the Latin Bible. There was no author class in those days to supply “copy” enough to keep their presses going. Accordingly, they fell back upon the ancient authors — issuing editions of Livy, Horace, Sallust, Cicero, and portions of Aristotle, with occasional devotional manuals; but their favorite book, most probably because it was the one most in demand, was the Bible. Only twenty-four books were published in Germany during the ten years that followed the sack of Mentz; but of these five were Latin and two were German Bibles. Translators were at the same time busily engaged upon it in different countries, and year by year the Bible became more accessible. Thus an Italian version appeared in 1471, a Bohemian in 1475, a Dutch in 1477, a French in 1477, and a Spanish (Valencian) in 1478. The Bible, however, continued a comparatively scarce and dear book; being little known to the clergy generally, and still less to the people. By many of the former it was regarded with suspicion, and even with hostility. At length, the number of editions of the Bible which were published in Germany, as if heralding the approach of the coming Reformation, seriously alarmed the Church; and in 1486 the Archbishop of Mentz placed the printers of that city, which had been the cradle of the printing-press, under strict censorship. Twenty-five years later, Pope Alexander VI. issued a bull prohibiting the printers of Cologne, Mentz, Treves, and Magdeburg, from publishing any books without the express licence of their archbishops. Although these measures were directed against the printing of religious works generally, they were more particularly directed against the publication of the Scriptures in the vulgar tongue. The printers, nevertheless, continued to print the Bible, regardless of these prohibitions — the Old Testament in Hebrew, the New in Greek, and both in Latin, German, French, and other modern languages. Finding that the reading of the Bible was extending, the priests began to inveigh against the practice from the pulpit. “They have now found out,” said a French monk, “a new language called Greek; we must carefully guard ourselves against it. That language will be the mother of all sorts of heresics. I see in the hands of a great number of persons a book written in this language, called ‘The New Testament’; it is a book full of brambles, with vipers in them. As to the Hebrew, whoever learns that becomes a Jew at once.” The fears of the priests increased as they saw their flocks becoming more intent upon reading the Scriptures, and hearing them read, than attending mass; and they were especially concerned at the growing disposition of the people to call in question the infallibility of the Church and the sacred character of the priesthood. It was every day becoming clearer to them that if the people were permitted to resort to books, and pray to God direct in their vulgar tongue, instead of praying through the priests in Latin, the authority of the mass would fall, and the Church itself would be endangered. 9 A most forcible expression was given to this view by the Vicar of Croydon in a sermon preached by him at Paul’s Cross, in which he boldly declared that , “we must root out printing, or printing will root out us.” But printing could not be rooted out, any more thau the hand of Time could be put back. This invention, unlike every other, contained within itself a self-pre-serving power which ensured its perpetuation. Its method had become known, and was recorded by itself. Printed books were now part of the inheritance of the human race; and though Bibles might be burnt, — as vast numbers of them were, so that they might be kept out of the hands of the people, — so long as a single copy remained, it was not lost, but was capable of immediate restoration and of infinite multiplication. The intense interest which the publication of the Bible excited, and the emotion which it raised in the minds of those who read it, are matters of history. At this day, when Bibles are common in almost every household, it is perhaps difficult to appreciate the deep feelings of awe and reverence with which men for the first time perused the sacred volume. We have become so familiar with it, that we are apt to look upon it merely as one amongst many books, — as part of the current literature of the day, or as a record of ancient history, to be checked off by the arithmetician or analysed by the critic. It was far different in those early times, when the Bible was rare and precious. Printing had brought forth the Book, which had lain so long silent in manuscript beneath the dust of old libraries, and laid it before the people, to be read by them in their own tongue. It was known to be the charter and title-deed of Christanity — the revelation of God’s will to man; and now, to read it, or hear it read, was like meeting God face to face, and listening to His voice speaking directly to them. At first it could only be read to the people; and in the English cathedrals, where single copies were placed, chained to a niche, eager groups gathered round to drink in its living truths. But as the art of printing improved, and copies of the Bible became multiplied in portable forms, it could then be taken home into the study or the chamber, and read and studied in secret. It was found to be an ever-fresh gushing spring of thought, welling up, as it were, from the Infinite. No wonder that men pondered over it with reverence, and read it with thanksgiving! No wonder that it moved their hearts, influenced their thoughts, gave a color to their familiar speech, and imparted a bias to their whole life! To the thoughtful, the perusal of the Bible gave new views of life and death. Its effect was to make those who pondered its lessons more solemn; it made the serious more earnest, and impressed them with a deeper sense of responsibility and duty. To the poor, the suffering, and the struggling, it was the aurora of a new world. With this Book in their hands, what to them were the afflictions of time, which were but for a moment, working out for them “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory”? It was the accidental sight of a copy of one of Gutenberg’s Bibles in the library of the convent of Erfurt, where Luther was in training for a monk, that fixed his destiny for life. 11 He opened it, and read with inexpressible delight the history of Hannah and her son Samuel. “O God!” he murmured, “could I but have one of these books, I would ask no other treasure !” A great revolution forthwith took place in his soul. He read, and studied, and meditated, until he fell seriously ill. Dr. Staupitz, a man of rank in the Church, was then inspecting the convent at Erfurt, in which Luther had been for two years. He felt powerfully attracted towards the young monk, and had much confidential intercourse with him. Before leaving, Staupitz presented Luther with a copy of the Bible — a Bible all to himself, which he could take with him to his cell and study there. “For several years,” said Luther afterwards, “I read the whole Bible twice in every twelvemonth. It is a great and powerful tree, each word of which is a mighty branch; each of these branches have I shaken, so desirous was I to learn what fruit they every one of them bore, and what they could give me.” This Bible of Luther’s was, however, in the Latin Vulgate, a language known only to the learned. Several translations had been printed in Germany by the end of the fifteenth century; but they were unsatisfactory versions, unsuited for popular reading, and were comparatively little known. One of Luther’s first thoughts, therefore, was to translate the Bible into the popular speech, so that the people at large might have free access to the unparalleled Book. Accordingly, in 1521, he began the translation of the New Testament during his imprisonment in what he called his Patmos — the castle of Wartburg. It was completed and published in the following year; and two years later, his Old Testament appeared. None valued more than Luther did, the invention of printing. “Printing,” said he, “is the latest and greatest gift by which God enables us to advance the things of the Gospel.” Printing was, indeed, one of the prime agents of the Reformation. The ideas had long been born, but printing gave them wings. Had the writings of Luther and his fellow-laborers been confined only to such copies as could have been made by hand, they would have remained few in number, been extremely limited in their effects, and could easily have been suppressed and destroyed by authority. But the printingpress enabled them to circulate by thousands all over Germany. 13 Luther was the especial favorite of the printers and booksellers. The former took pride in bringing out his books with minute care, and the latter in circulating them. A large body of ex-monks lived by travelling about and selling them all over Germany. His books were also carried abroad, — into Switzerland, Bohemia, France, and England. The printing of the Bible was also carried on with great activity in the Low Countries. Besides versions in French and Flemish for the use of the people in the Walloon provinces, where the new views extensively prevailed, various versions in foreign tongues were printed for exportation abroad. Thus Tyndale, unable to get his New Testament printed in England, where its perusal was forbidden, had the first edition printed at Antwerp in 1526, 15 as well as two subsequent editions at the same place. Indeed, Antwerp seems at that time to have been the head-quarters of Bible-printing. No fewer than thirteen editions of the Bible and twentyfour editions of the New Testament, in the Flemish or Dutch language, were printed there within the first thirty-six years of the sixteenth century, besides various other editions in English, French, Danish, and Spanish An eager demand for the Scriptures had by this time sprung up in France. Several translations of portions of the Bible appeared there towards the end of the fifteenth century; but these were all superseded by a version of the entire Scriptures, printed at Antwerp in successive portions, between the years 1512 and 1530. This translation was the work of Jacques le Fevre or Faber, of Etaples, and it formed the basis of all subsequent editions of the French Bible. The effects were the same wherever the Book appeared, and was freely read by the people. It was followed by an immediate reaction against the superstition, indifferentism, and impiety, which generally prevailed. There was a sudden awakening to a new religious life, and an anxious desire for a purer faith, — less overlaid by the traditions, inventions, and corruptions, which impaired the effiency, and obscured the simple beauty, of Christianity. The invention of printing had also its political effects. For men to be able to read books, and especially the Scriptures, in the common tongue, was itself a revolution. It roused the hearts of the people in all lands, producing commotion, excitement, and agitation. Society became electric, and was stirred to its depths. The sentiment of Right was created, and the long down-trodden peasants — along the Rhine, in Alsace, and Suabia — raised their cries on all sides, demanding freedom from serfdom, and to be recognised as Men. Indeed, this electric fervor and vehement excitement throughout society was one of the greatest difficulties that Luther had to contend with, in guiding the Reformation in Germany to a successful issue. The ecclesiastical abuses, which had first evoked the indignation of Luther, were not confined to Germany, but prevailed all over Europe. There were Tetzels also in France, where indulgences were things of common traffic. Money had to be raised by the Church; for the building of St. Peter’s at Rome must be paid for. Each sin had its price, each vice its tax. There was a regular tariff for peccadilloes of every degree, up to the greatest crimes. The Bible, it need scarcely be said, was at open war with this monstrous state of things; and the more extensively it was read and its precepts became known, the more strongly were these practices condemned. Hence the alarm occasioned at Rome by the rapid extension of the art of printing and the increasing circulation of the Bible. Hence also the prohibition of printing which shortly followed, and the burning of the printers who printed the Scriptures, as well as of the persons who were found guilty of reading them. The first signs of the Reformation in France showed themselves in the town of Meaux, about fifty miles north-east of Paris — not far distant from the then Flemish frontier. It was a place full of working-people — mechanics, wool-carders, fullers, cloth-makers, and artizans. Their proximity to Flanders, and the similarity of their trade to that of the larger Flemish towns, occasioned a degree of intercourse between them, which doubtless contributed to the propagation of the new views at Meaux, where the hearts of the poor artizans were greatly moved by the tidings of the Gospel which reached them from the north. At the same time men of learning in the Church had long been meditating over the abuses which prevailed in it, and devising the best means of remedying them. Among the most earnest of these was Jacques Lefevre, a native of Etaples in Picardy. He was a man of great and acknowledged learning, one of the most distinguished professors in the university of Paris. The study of the Bible produced the same effect upon his mind as it had done on that of Luther; but he was a man of far different temperament, — gentle, retiring, and timid, though not less devoted to the cause of truth. He was, however, an old man of seventy. His life was fast fleeting; but yet there was a world lying all in wickedness about him. He translated the four Gospels into French in 1523; had them printed at Antwerp; and put them into circulation. He found a faithful follower in Guillaume Farel — a young, energetic, and active man, — who abounded in those qualities in which the aged Lefevre was so deficient. Another coadjutor shortly joined them — Gullaume Briconnet, Count of Montbrun and Bishop of Meaux, who also became a convert to the new doctrines. The bishop, on taking charge of his diocese, had been shocked by the disorders which prevailed there, — by the licentiousness of the clergy, and their general disregard for religious life and duty. As many of them were non-resident, he invited Lefevre, Farel, and others, to occupy their pulpits and preach to the people — the bishop preaching in his turn; and the people flocked to hear them. The bishop also distributed the four Gospels gratuitously among the poor, and very soon a copy was to be found in almost every workshop in Meaux. A reformation of manners shortly followed. Blasphemy, drunkenness, and disorder disappeared; and the movement spread far and near. It must not be supposed, however, that the supporters of the old Church were indifferent to these proceedings. At first they had been stunned by the sudden spread of the new views and the rapid increase of the “Gospellers,” as they were called throughout the northern provinces; but they speedily rallied from their stupor. They knew that power was on their side, — the power of kings and parliaments, and their agents; and they loudly called them to their help, to prevent the spread of heresy. At the same time, Rome, roused by her danger, availed herself of all methods for winning back her wandering children, by force if not by suasion. The Inquisition was armed with new powers; and wherever heresy appeared, it was crushed, unsparingly, unpityingly. No matter what the rank or learning of the suspected heretic might be, he must satisfy the tribunal before which he was brought, or die at the stake. The priests and monks of Meaux, though mostly absentees, finding their revenues diminishing, appealed for help to the Sorbonne, the Faculty of Theology at Paris; and the Sorbonne called upon parliament at once to interpose with a strong hand. The result was, that the Bishop of Meaux was heavily fined; and he shrank thenceforward out of sight, and ceased to give any further cause for offense. But his disciples were less pliant, and continued boldly to preach the Gospel. Jean Lecerc was burnt alive at Metz, and Jacques Pavent and Louis de Berguin on the Place de Greve at Paris. Farel escaped into Switzerland, and there occupied himself in printing copies of Lefevre’s New Testament, thousands of which he caused to be disseminated throughout France by the hands of pedlars. The Sorbonne then proceeded to make war against books, and the printers of books. Bibles and New Testaments were seized and burnt. But more Bibles and Testaments seemed to rise, as if by magic, from their ashes. The printers who were convicted of printing Bibles were next seized and burnt. The Bourgeois de Paris 17 gives a detailed account of the human sacrifices offered up to ignorance and intolerance in that city during the six months ending June 1534, from which it appears that twenty men and one, woman were burnt alive. One was a printer of the Rue St. Jacques, found guilty of having “printed the books of Luther.” Another, a bookseller, was burnt for “having sold Luther.” In the beginning of the following year, the Sorbonne obtained from the King an ordinance, which was promulgated on the 26th of February 1535, for the suppression of printing! It was too late! The art was now full born, and could no more be suppressed than light, or air, or life. Books had become a public necessity; they supplied a great public want; and every year saw them multiplying more abundantly. The same scenes were enacted all over France, wherever the Bible had penetrated and found followers. In 1545, the massacre of the Vaudois of Provence was perpetrated, accompanied by horrors which it is impossible to describe. This terrible persecution, however, did not produce its intended effect; but, on the other hand, it was followed by a strong reaction in the public mind against the fury of the persecutors. The king, Francis I., complained that his orders had been exceeded; but he was sick and almost dying at the time, and had not the strength to prosecute the assassins. There was, however, a lull for a time in the violence of the persecutions, during which the new views made rapid progress; and men of rank, of learning, and of arms, ranged themselves on the side of “The Religion.” Then arose the Huguenots or French Protestants, 19 who shortly became so numerous as to constitute a considerable power in the state, and to exercise, during the next hundred years, a most important influence on the political history of France. The origin of the term Huguenot is extremely obscure. It was at first applied to them as a nick-name; and, like the Gueux of Flanders, they assumed and bore it with pride. Some suppose the term to be derived from Huguon , a word used in Touraine to signify persons who walk at nights in the streets, — the early Protestants, like the early Christians, having chosen that time for their religious assemblies. Others are of opinion that it was derived from a French and faulty pronunciation of the German word Eidgenossen , or confederates — the name given to those citizens of Geneva who entered into an alliance with the Swiss cantons to resist the attempts of Charles III., Duke of Savoy, against their liberties. The confederates were called Eignots ; and hence, probably, the derivation of the word Huguenots. A third surmise is, that the word was derived from one Hugues , the name of a Genevese Calvinist. Further attempts continued to be made by Rome to check the progress of printing. In 1599, Pope Paul IV. issued the first Index Expurgatorius , containing a list of the books expressly prohibited by the Church. It included all Bibles printed in modern languages — of which forty-eight, editions were enumerated; while sixty-one printers were put under a general ban, and all works of every description issuing from their presses were forbidden. Notwithstanding, however, these and similar measures — such as the wholesale burning of Bibles wherever found — the circulation of the Scriptures rapidly increased, and the principles of the Reformation prevailed more and more throughout the northern nations. CHAPTER - EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF PALISSY AT the time when the remarkable movement we have rapidly sketched, was sweeping round the frontiers of France, from Switzerland to Brabant — and men were everywhere listening with eagerness to the promulgation of the new ideas, — there was wandering along the Rhine a poor artizan, then obscure, but afterwards famous, who was seeking to earn a living by the practice of his trade. He could glaze windows, mend furniture, paint a little on glass, draw portraits rudely, gild and color images of the Virgin, or do any sort of work requiring handiness and dexterity. On an emergency he would even undertake to measure land, and was ready to turn his hand to anything that might enable him to earn a living, and at the same time add to his knowledge and experience. This wandering workman was no other than Bernard Palissy, — afterwards the natural philosopher, the chemist, the geologist, and the artist, — but more generally known as the great Potter. Fortunately for our present purpose, Palissy was also an author; and though the works he left behind him are written in a quaint and simple style, it is possible to obtain from certain passages in them a more vivid idea of the times in which he lived, and of the trials and sufferings of the Gospellers, of whom he was one of the most illustrious, than from any other contemporary record. The life of Palissy, too, is eminently illustrative of his epoch; and provided we can but accurately portray the life of any single man in relation to his epoch, then biography becomes history in its truest sense; for history, after all, is but accumulated biography. From the writings of Palissy, 1 then, we gather the following facts regarding this remarkable man’s life and career. He was born about the year 1510, at La Chapelle Biron, a poor village in Perigord, where his father brought him up to his own trade of a glazier. The boy was by nature quick and ingenious, with a taste for drawing, designing, and decoration, which he turned to account in painting glass and decorating images for the village churches in his immediate neighborhood. Desirous of improving himself, at the same time that he earned his living, he resolved to travel into other districts and countries, according to the custom of skilled workmen in those days. Accordingly, so soon as his term of apprenticeship had expired, he set out upon his “wanderschaff,” at about the age of twentyone. He first went into the country adjacent to the Pyrenees; and his journeyings in those mountain districts awoke in his mind that love for geology and natural history which he afterwards pursued with so much zeal. After settling for a time at Tarbes, in the High Pyrenees, he proceeded northward, through Languedoc, Dauphiny, part of Switzerland, Alsace, the Duchies of Cleves and Luxemburg, and the provinces of the Lower Rhine, to Ardennes and Flanders. It will be observed that Palissy’s line of travel lay precisely through the provinces in which the people had been most deeply moved by the recent revolt of Luther from Rome. In 1517 the Reformer had publicly denounced the open, sale of indulgences, by “the profligate monk Tetzel,” and affixed his celebrated ninety-five Theses to the outer pillars of the cathedral of Wittemberg 2 The propositions were at once printed in thousands, read, devoured, and spread abroad in every direction. In 1518, Luther appeared, under the safe-conduct of the Elector of Saxony, before the Pope’s legate at Augsburg; and in 1520 he publicly burnt the Pope’s bull at Wittemberg, amidst the acclamations of the people. All Germany was now in a blaze, and Luther’s books and pamphlets were everywhere in demand. It was shortly after this, that Palissy traveled through the excited provinces. Wherever he went he heard of “Luther,” “the Bible,” and the New Revelation which the latter volume had brought to light. The men of his own class, with whom he most freely mixed in the course of his travels — artists, mechanics, and artizans 3 — were full of the new ideas which were stirring the heart of Germany. These were embraced with especial fervor by the young and the energetic. Minds formed and grown old in the established modes of thought, were unwilling to be disturbed, and satisfied to rest as they were. “Too old for change” was their maxim. But it was different with the young, the ardent, and the inquiring — who looked before rather than behind, to the future rather than the past. These were, for the most part, vehement in support of the doctrines of the Reformation. Palissy was then of an age at which the mind is most open to receive new impressions. He was, moreover, by nature a shrewd observer and an independent thinker; and he could not fail to be influenced by the agitation which stirred society to its depths. Among the many things which Palissy learned in the course of his travels, was the art of reading printed books; and one of the books which he learned to read, and most prized, was the printed Bible, the greatest marvel of his time. It was necessarily read in secret, for the ban of the Church was still upon it; but the prohibition was disregarded, and probably gave an additional zest to the study of the forbidden book. Men recognised each others love for it as by a secret sympathy; and they gathered together in workshops and dwellings to read and meditate over it, and exhort one another from its pages. Among these was Palissy, who, by the time he was thirty years old, had become a follower of the Gospel, and a believer in the religion of the Open Bible. Palissy returned to France in 1539, at a time when persecution was at the hottest; when printing had been suppressed by royal edict; when the reading of the Bible was prohibited on pain of death; and when many were being burnt alive for reading and believing it. The persecution especially raged in Paris and the neighborhood, — which may account for Palissy’s avoidance of the city. An artist so skilled as he was, would naturally have desired to settle there; but he passed it, and went on to settle at Saintonge, in the southwestern corner of France. There he married, and began to pursue his manifold callings, — more particularly glass-painting, portraitpainting, and land-measuring. He had a long and hard fight for life. His employment was fitful, and he was often reduced to great straits. Some years after his settlement at Saintes, while still struggling with poverty, chance threw in his way an enamelled cup of Italian manufacture, of great beauty, which he had no sooner seen, than he desired to imitate it; and from that time, the determination to discover the art by which it was enamelled possessed him like a passion. The story of Palissy’s heroic ardor in prosecuting his researches in connection with this subject, is well known: how he built furnace after furnace, and made experiments with them again and again, only to end in failure; how he was all the while studying the nature of earths and clays, and learning chemistry, as he described it, “with his teeth”; how he reduced himself to a state of the most distressing poverty, which he endured amidst the expostulations of his friends, the bitter sarcasms of his neighbors, and, what was still worse to bear, the reproaches of his wife and children. But he was borne up throughout by his indomitable determination, his indefatigable industry, and his irrepressible genius. On one occasion he sat by his furnace for six successive days and nights without changing his clothes. He made experiment after experiment, and still the enamel did not melt. At his last and most desperate experiment, when the fuel began to run short, he rushed into his house, seized and broke up sundry articles of furniture, and hurled them into the furnace to keep up the heat. No wonder that his wife and children, as well as his neighbors, thought the man had gone mad. But he himself was in a measure compensated by the fact that the last great burst of heat had melted the enamel; for when the common clay jars, which had been put in brown, were taken out after the furnace had cooled, they were found covered with the white glaze of which he had been so long and so furiously in search. By this time, however, he had become reduced to a state of the greatest poverty. He had stripped his dwelling, he had beggared himself, and his children wanted food. “I was in debt,” said he, “at many places, and when two children were at nurse, I was unable to pay the nurse’s wages. No one helped me. On the contrary, people mocked me, saying, ‘He will rather let his children die of hunger than mind his own business.’“ Others said of him that he was “seeking to make false money.” These jeerings of the townsfolk reached his ears as he passed along the streets of Saintes, and cut him to the heart. Like Brindley the engineer, Palissy betook himself to bed to meditate upon his troubles and study how to find a way out of them. “When I had lain for some time in bed,” says he, “and considered that if a man has fallen into a ditch his first duty is to try and raise himself out of it, I, being in like case, rose and set to work to paint some pictures, and by this and other means I endeavored to earn a little money. Then I said to myself that all my losses and risks were over, and there was nothing now to hinder me from making good pieces of ware; and so began again, as before, to work at my old art.” 5 But he was still very far from success, and continued to labor on for years amidst misfortune, privation, and poverty. “All these failures,” he continues, “occasioned me such labor and sadness of spirit, that before I could render my various enamels fusible at the same degree of heat, I was obliged, as it were, to roast myself to death at the door of the sepulcher; moreover, in laboring at such work, I found myself, in the space of about ten years, so worn out that I was shrunk almost to a skeleton; there was no appearance of muscle on my arms or legs, so that my stockings fell about my feet when I walked abroad.” His neighbors would no longer have patience with him; he was despised and mocked by them all Yet he persevered with his art, and proceeded to make vessels of divers colors, which he at length began to be able to sell, and thus earned a slender maintenance for his family. “The hope which inspired me,” says he, “enabled me to proceed with my work, and when people came to see me I sometimes contrived to entertain them with pleasantry, while I was really sad at heart…. Worst of all the sufferings I had to endure were the mockeries and persecutions of those of my household, who were so unreasonable as to expect me to execute work without the means of doing so. For years my furnaces were without any covering or protection; and while attending to them I have been exposed for nights, at the mercy of the wind and the rain, without any help or consolation, save it might be the meauling of cats on the one side, or the howling of dogs on the other. Sometimes the tempest would beat so furiously against the furnaces that I was compelled to leave them, and seek shelter within doors. Drenched by rain, and in no better plight than if I had been dragged through mire, I have gone to lie down at midnight, or at daybreak, stumbling into the house without a light, and reeling from one side to another, as if I had been drunken, my heart filled with sorrow at the loss of my labor after such long toiling. But, alas! my home proved no refuge for me; for, drenched and besmeared as I was, I found in my chamber a second persecution worse than the first, which makes me even now marvel that I was not utterly consumed by my many sorrows.” In the ,midst of his great distress, religion came to Palissy as a consoler. He found comfort in recalling to mind such passages of the Bible as he carried in his memory, and which from time to time gave him fresh hope. “You will thus observe,” he afterwards wrote, “the goodness of God to me: when I was in the depth of suffering because of my art, He consoled me with His Gospel; and when I have been exposed to trials because of the Gospel, then it has been with my art that He has consoled me.” When wandering abroad in the fields about Saintes, at the time of his greatest troubles, Palissy’s attention was wont to be diverted from his own sorrows by the wonderful beauty and infinite variety of nature, of which he was a close and accurate observer. What were his petty cares and trials in sight of the marvellous works of God, which spoke in every leaf, and flower, and plant, of His infinite power, and goodness, and wisdom? “When I contemplated these things,” says Palissy, “I have fallen upon my face, and, adoring God, cried to Him in spirit, ‘What is man that Thou art mindful of him? Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to Thy name be the honor and the glory!’” There were already many followers of The Religion in Saintes and the adjoining districts. It so happened that Calvin had, at an early period in his life, visited Saintonge, and sowed the seeds of the Gospel there. Calvin was a native of Noyon, in Picardy, and had from his childhood been destined for the priesthood. When only twelve years old, he was provided with a benefice; but by the time he grew to man’s estate, a relative presented him with a copy of the Bible, and he became a religious reformer. He began, almost involuntarily, to exhort others from its pages, and proceeded to preach to the people at Bourges, at Paris, and in the adjoining districts. From thence he went into Poitou and Saintonge on the same errand, holding his meetings late at night or early in the morning, in retired places — in a cellar or a garret — in a wood or in the opening of a rock in a mountain-side; a hollow place of this sort, near Poitiers, in which Calvin and his friends secretly celebrated the Lord’s Supper, being still known as “Calvin’s Cave.” We are not informed by Palissy whether he ever met Calvin in the course of his mission in Saintonge, which occurred shortly after the latter had settled at Saintes; but certain it is, that he was one of the first followers and teachers of the new views in that neighborhood. Though too poor himself to possess a copy of the Bible, Palissy had often heard it read by others as well as read it himself while on his travels; and his retentive memory enabled him to carry many of its most striking passages in his mind,8 which he was accustomed to reproduce in his ordinary speech. Hence the style of his early writings, which is strongly marked by Biblical terms and similitudes. He also contrived to obtain many written extracts from the Old and New Testament, for the purpose of reading them to others; and these formed the texts from which he exhorted his fellow Gospellers. For Palissy was one of the earliest preachers of the Reformed Church in the town of Saintes, if he was not indeed its founder. The meetings of the little congregation soon became popular in Saintes. The people of the town went at first out of curiosity to observe their proceedings, and they were gradually attracted by the earnestness of the worshippers. The members of “The Religion” were known throughout the town to be persons of blameless lives, peaceable, well-disposed, and industrious, who commanded the respect even of their enemies. At length the Roman Catholics of Saintes began to say to their monks and priests — “See these ministers of the new religion: they make prayers; they lead a holy life: why cannot you do the like?” The monks and priests, not to be outdone by the men of The Religion, then began to pray and to preach like the ministers; “so that in those days,” to use the words of Palissy, “there were prayers daily in this town, both on one side and the other.” So kindly a spirit began to spring up under the operation of these influences, that the religious exercises of both parties — of the old and the new religion — were for a short time celebrated in several of the churches by turns; one portion of the people attending the prayers of the old Church, and another portion the preachings of the new; so that the Catholics, returning from celebrating the mass, were accustomed to meet the Huguenots on their way to hear the exhortation, as is usual in Holland at this day. The effects of this joint religious action on the morals of the people, are best described in Palissy’s own words — “The progress made by us was such, that in the course of a few years, by the time that our enemies rose up to pillage and persecute us, lewd plays, dances, ballads, gormandizings, and superfluities of dress and head-gear, had almost entirely ceased. Scarcely was any bad language to be heard on any side; nor were there any more crimes and scandals. Lawsuits greatly diminished; for no sooner had any two persons of The Religion fallen out, than means were found to bring them to an agreement; moreover, very often before beginning any lawsuit, the one would not begin it before first exhorting the other. When the time for celebrating Easter drew near, many differences, dissensions, and quarrels, were thus stayed and settled. There were then no questions amongst them, but only psalms, prayers, and spiritual canticles; 9 nor was there any more desire for lewd and dissolute songs. Indeed, The Religion made such progress, that even the magistrates began to prohibit things that had grown up under their authority. Thus, they forbade innkeepers to permit gambling or dissipation to be carried on within their premises, to the enticement of men away from their own homes and families. “In those days might be seen, on Sundays, bands of work-people walking abroad in the meadows, the groves, and the fields, staging psalms and spiritual songs, or reading to and instructing one another. There might also be seen girls and maidens seated in groups in the gardens and pleasant places, singing songs on sacred themes; or boys accompanied by their teachers, the effects of whose instruction had already been so salutary, that those young persons not only exhibited a manly bearing, but a manful steadfastness of conduct. Indeed, these various influences, working one with another, had already effected so much good, that not only had the habits and modes of life of the people been reformed, but their very countenances themselves seemed to be changed and improved.” But this happy state of affairs did not last long. While the ministers of the new religion and the priests of the old (with a few exceptions) were thus working harmoniously together at Saintes, events were rapidly drawing to a crisis in other parts of France. The heads of the Roman Catholic Church saw with alarm the rapid strides which the new religion was making, and that a large proportion of the population were day by day escaping from their control. Pope Pius IV., through his agents, urged the decisive interference of the secular authority to stay the progress of heresy; and Philip II. of Spain supported him with all his influence. The Huguenots had now, by virtue of their increasing numbers, become a political power. Many of the leading politicians of France embraced the Reformed cause, not so much because they were impressed by the truth of the new views, as because they were capable of being used as an instrument for party warfare. Ambitious men, opposed to the court party, arrayed themselves on the side of the Huguenots, caring perhaps little for their principles, but mainly actuated by the desire of promoting their own personal ends. Thus political and religious dissension combined together to fan the fury of the contending parties into a flame. The councils of state became divided and distracted. There was no controlling mediating power. The extreme partizans were alike uncompromising; and a social outbreak,’ long imminent, at length took place. The head of the Church in France alarmed the King with fears for his throne and his life. “If the secular arm,” said the Cardinal de Lorraine to Henry II., “fails in its duty, all the malcontents will throw themselves into this detestable sect. They will first destroy the ecclesiastical power, after which it will be the turn of the royal power.” The secular arm was not slow to strike. In 1559, a royal edict was published declaring the crime of heresy punishable by death, and forbidding the judges to remit or mitigate the penalty. The fires of persecution, which had long been smouldering, again burst forth all over France. The provincial Parliaments instituted Chambres ardentes , so called because they condemned to the fire all who were accused and convicted of the crime of heresy. Palissy himself has vividly narrated the effect of these relentless measures in his own district of Saintes: “The very thought of the evil deeds of those days,” says he, “when wicked men were let loose upon us to scatter, overwhelm, ruin, and destroy the followers of the Reformed faith, fills my mind with horror. That I might be out of the way of their frightful and execrable tyrannies, and in order not to be a witness of the cruelties, robberies, and murders perpetrated in this rural neighborhood, I concealed myself at home, remaining there for the space of two months. It seemed to me as if during that time hell itself had broken loose, and that raging devils had entered into and taken possession of the town of Saintes. For in the place where I had shortly before heard only psalms and spiritual songs, and exhortations to pure and honest living, I now heard nothing but blasphemies, assaults, threatenings, tumults, abominable language, dissoluteness, and lewd and disgusting songs, of such sort that it seemed to me as if all purity and godliness had become completely stifled and extinguished. Among other horrors of the time, there issued forth from the Castle of Taillebourg a band of wicked imps who worked more mischief even than any of the devils of the old school. On their entering the town, accompanied by certain priests, with drawn swords in their hands, they shouted — ‘Where are they? let us cut their throats instantly!’ though they knew well enough that there was no resistance to them, those of the Reformed Church having all taken to flight. To make matters worse, they met an innocent Parisian in the street, reported to have money about him, and him they set upon and killed without resistance, first stripping him to his shirt before putting him to death. Afterwards they went from house to house, stealing, plundering, robbing, gormandising, mocking, swearing, and uttering foul blasphemies both against God and man.” During the two months that Palissy remained secluded at home, he occupied himself busily in perfecting the secret of the enamel, which he had so long been in search of. Notwithstanding his devotion to the exercises of his religion, he continued to devote himself with no less zeal to the practice of his art; and his fame as a potter already extended far beyond the bounds of his district. He had indeed been so fortunate as by this time to have attracted the notice of a powerful noble, the Duke of Montmorency, Constable of France, then engaged in building the magnificent chateau of Ecouen, at St. Denis, near Paris. Specimens of Palissy’s enamelled tiles had been brought under the duke’s notice, who admired them so much, that he at once gave Palissy an order to execute the pavement for his new residence. He even advanced a sum of money to the potter, to enable him to enlarge his works, so as to complete the order with despatch. Palissy’s opinions were of course well known in his district, where he had been the founder, and was in a measure the leader, of the Reformed sect. The duke was doubtless informed of the danger which his potter ran, at the outbreak of the persecution; and he accordingly used his influence to obtain a safeguard for him from the Duke of Montpensier, who then commanded the royal army in Saintonge. But even this protection was insufficient; for, as the persecution waxed hotter, and the search for heretics became keener, Palissy found his workshop no longer safe. At length he was seized, dragged from his home, and hurried off by night to Bordeaux, to be put upon his trial for the crime of heresy. And this first great potter of France — this true man of genius, religion, and virtue — would certainly have been tried and burnt, as hundreds more were, but for the accidental circumstance that the Duke of Montmorency was in urgent want of enamelled tiles for his castle-floor, and that Palissy was the only man in France capable of executing them. It is not improbable that the sending of Palissy to Bordeaux, to be tried there instead of at Saintes, was a ruse on the part of the Duke of Montpensier, to gain time until the Constable could be informed of the danger which threatened the life of his potter; for Palissy says, — “It is a certain truth, that had I been tried by the judges of Saintes, they would have caused me to die before I could have obtained from you any help.” But no sooner did Montmoreney hear of the peril into which his potter had fallen, and find that unless he bestirred himself, Palissy would be burnt and his tiles for Ecouen remain unfinished, than he at once used his influence with Catharine de Medicis, the Queen-mother, with whom he was then all-powerful, and had him forthwith appointed “Inventor of Rustic Figulines to the King.” This appointment had the effect of withdrawing Palissay from the jurisdiction of the Parliament of Bordeaux, and transferring him to that of the Grand Council of Paris, which was tantamount to an indefinite adjournment of his case. The now royal potter was accordingly released from prison, and returned to Saintes to find his workshop roofless and devastated. He at once made arrangements for leaving the place; and, shaking the dust of Saintes from his feet, he shortly after removed to the Tuileries 12 at Paris, where he long continued to carry on the manufacture of his famous pottery. It is not necessary to pursue the career of Palissy further than to add, that the circumstance of his being employed by Catherine de Medicis had not the slightest effect in inducing him to change his religion. He remained a Huguenot, and stoutly maintained his opinions to the last — so stoutly, indeed, that towards. the close of his life, when an old man of seventyeight, he was again arrested as a heretic and imprisoned in the Bastile. He was threatened with death unless he recanted. But though he was feeble, and trembling on the verge of the grave, his spirit was as brave as ever. He was as obstinate now in holding to his religion, as he had been more than thirty years before in hunting out the secret of the enamel. Mathieu de Launay, minister of state, one of the sixteen members of council, insisted that Palissy should be publicly burnt; but the Duc de Mayenne, who protected him, contrived to protract the proceedings and delay the sentence. The French historian D’Aubign’e describes Henry III. as visiting Palissy in prison with the object of inducing him to abjure his faith. “My good man,” said the King, “you have now served my mother and myself for forty-five years. We have put up with your adhering to your religion amid fires and massacres. But now I am so pressed by the Guise party, as well as by my own people, that I am constrained to leave you in the hands of your enemies; and tomorrow you will be burnt, unless you become converted.” “Sire,”answered the unconquerable old man, “I am ready to give my life for the glory of God. You have said many times that you have pity on me: now I have pity on you, who have pronounced the words ‘I am constrained.’ It is not spoken like a king, sire; it is what you, and those who constrain you, the Guisards and all your people, can never effect upon me, for I know how to die.” Palissy was not burnt, but died in the Bastile, after about a year’s imprisonment, courageously persevering to the end, and glorying in being able to lay down his life for his faith. Thus died a man of truly great and noble character, of irrepressible genius, indefatigable industry, heroic endurance, and inflexible rectitude — one of France’s greatest and noblest sons. CHAPTER - PERSECUTIONS OF THE REFORMED PALISSY was not the only man of genius in France who embraced the Reformed faith. The tendency of books and the Bible was to stimulate inquiry on the part of all who studied them; to extend the reign of thought, and emancipate the mind from the dominion of human authority. Hence we find among the men of “The Religion,” Peter Ramus and Joseph Justus Scaliger, the philosophers; Charles Dumoulin, the jurist; Ambrose Pare, the surgeon; Henry Stephens (or Estienne), the printer and scholar; 1 Jean Cousin, founder of the French school of painting; Barthelemy Prieur and Jean Goujon, sculptors; Jean Bullant, Debrosses, and Du Cerceau, architects; Charles Goudimel, the musical composer; and Oliver de Serre, the agriculturist. These were among the first men of their time in France. Persecution did not check the spread of the new views: on the contrary, it extended them. The spectacle of men and women publicly suffering death for their faith, — expiring under the most cruel tortures rather than deny their convictions, — arrested the attention even of the most incredulous. Their curiosity was roused; they desired to learn what there was in the forbidden Bible to inspire such constancy and endurance; and they too read the book, and in many cases became followers of The Religion. Thus the new views spread rapidly all over France. They not only became established in all the large towns, but penetrated the rural districts, more especially in the south and south-east of France. The social misery which pervaded these districts doubtless helped the spread of the new doctrines among the lower classes; for “there was even more discontent abroad,” said Brantome, “than Huguenotism.” But they also extended amongst the learned and the wealthy. The heads of the house of Bourbon, Antoine duke of Vendome and Louis prince of Conde, declared themselves in favor of the new views. The former became the husband of the celebrated Jeanne D’Albret, Queen of Navarre, daughter of the Protestant Margaret of Valois; and the last became the recognised leader of the Huguenots. The head of the Coligny family took the same side. The Montmorencies were divided: the Constable halting between the two opinions, waiting to see which should prove the stronger; while others of the family openly sided with the Reformed. Indeed, it seemed at one time as if France were on the brink of becoming Protestant. In 1561 the alarmed Cardinal de Sainte-Croix wrote to the Pope, “The kingdom is already half Huguenot.” Unhappily for France, the country fell into the hands of the Queen and the Guises. Henry II. had married an Italian wife, Catherine de Medicis, niece of the Pope. Great magnificence was displayed at the Queen’s coronation. Voluptuousness and cruelty are usually combined. The pomp of the tournaments was combined with the burning of four Lutherans. Persecution prevailed; and many persons of influence left the country. The King confiscated to himself the property of those who took refuge abroad. Pope Paul IV., the Cardinal de Lorraine, the Sorbonne, and the priests demanded that the Inquisition should be established in France. A bull to this effect was issued, and the King confirmed it by an edict; but Parliament would not enforce it, and France was spared the disgrace. The Doctors of the Sorbonne did their utmost to inflame the minds of the people against the heretics. They influenced the power of the State, which went on persecuting and burning. Henry II. concluded a peace with Spain, and entered into a treaty to exterminate heresy; and, in pledge of this treaty, his daughter Elizabeth was to espouse Philip II. The Cardinal de Lorraine proposed, as the most agreeable exhibition to the Spanish ambassadors, who had arrived in Paris to take away the betrothed princess, to burn before them half a dozen Lutheran counsellots. “We must,” to use his own expression, “give this junket to these grandees of Spain.” The King died by the splinter of a lance received in a tournament; and Francis II. reigned in his stead. He was only sixteen years old, and was feeble in body and mind; so that his mother, Catherine de Medicis, became the real governor of France. She was surrounded by the Guises, Chatillons, Saint Andres, the Constable de Montmorency, and others, who worked for their own advantage the fictitious royalty of Francis II. Catherine de Medicis was artful and vindictive, ambitious of power, devoid of moral feelings, though of considerable intellectual capacity. De Felice says that “no wife and mother of our kings has done so much injury to France as this Italian woman.” He adds: “We are speaking of the Italians of the sixteenth century — nobles and priests — who, eternally witnessing at Rome, Florence, Naples, scenes of assassination, poisoning, and the utmost turpitude, had sunk into the very lowest state of depravity. It is they — history attests it — who planned, devised, and finally executed in France the most monstrous crimes of the epoch.” The Guises were the true leaders of the Roman Catholic party. They formed a younger branch of the family of the Dukes of Lorraine. Although foreigners (for Lorraine formed then no part of France), they soon acquired a considerable influence. Claude de Lorraine had by Antoinette de Bourbon six sons and four daughters, all of whom rose to offices of distinction. One of his daughters, Mary of Lorraine, married James V. of Scotland, whose sole surviving issue was Mary, afterwards Queen of Scots. At six years old Mary was sent to France, where she was educated with the King’s daughters. At the age of sixteen she was married to the Dauphin. When the Dauphin became king, the Guises became all-powerful. Francis II. entrusted the government of France to Francis duke of Guise and to his brother the Cardinal of Lorraine, both uncles of Mary Stuart. The Duke obtained command of the army; the Cardinal became Archbishop of Rheims, and the possessor of the enormous income of three hundred thousand crowns annually. These two foreigners, together with the Italian Queen-mother, having virtually taken possession of France, excited the envy of the French aristocracy. The persecutions and burnings with which the Guises treated the Huguenots, could not fail to excite their hostility. Anthony of Bourbon, King of Navarre, and Louis his brother, Prince of Conde, with the other princes of the blood, and the great officers of State, being indignant at seeing the supreme powers of France in such hands, entered into a conspiracy against the Guises, — proposing to expel the Lorraines and place the government of France in the hands of French princes. Louis de Conde was the invisible chief of the conspiracy, and he induced many of his Huguenot followers to join it. But Coligny and many other Huguenot chiefs knew nothing about it, and many of those of The Religion were strongly opposed to it. La Renaudie represented the political malcontents, and was the visible chief of the conspiracy. The advocate, Des Avenelles, informed the Guises of the plot, and they immediately took steps to prevent its success. The Court was then at Blois, — in olden times the residence of the kings and princes of France. The chateau is seated on the side of a picturesque hill, overlooking the Loire. Being incapable of defense, the Guises removed the Court to the magnificent castle of Amboise, situated a little lower down the Loire, on the left bank of that beautiful river. Before the conspiracy had come to a head, the Guises arrested those who had proposed to take part in it. Twelve hundred prisoners were then brought to Amboise to be executed. To please the royal personages at the castle, they were brought out to a balcony, that still exists, in order to witness the butchery. There were then present, in Court costumes, Francis II., King of France, and Mary Stuart his wife, afterwards Queen of Scots; Catherine de Medicis; Charles and Henry, afterwards Charles IX. and Henry III., Kings of France. The Cardinal of Lorraine was also present, as well as the Ladies in waiting. La Renaudie, the chief of the conspiracy, was first hung on a gibbet in the center of the bridge over the Loire. The remainder of the twelve hundred were hung and beheaded within sight of the ladies. No inquiry, no trial, was permitted. They were merely executed and strung up as fast as possible. The castle walls were decorated with their hanging bodies. The wearied: headsman below resigned his axe, and consigned the remainder to other executioners, who, tying their feet and hands together, threw them into the Loire, where they were drowned. The butchery did not end so pleasantly after all. The stench arising from the dead bodies was such, that the Court was driven from the castle in the course of a few days. Francis II. and Queen Mary did not enjoy their honors long. The King died in his seventeenth year, after a reign of seventeen months. As he had shown some symptoms of rebelling against the constraints to which he was subject, it was supposed that he had died from poison. At all events, his funeral was disregarded. He was borne to his grave by an old blind bishop and two servitors. His queen, Mary, returned to Scotland, to attempt to exercise upon a rougher, but more sturdy people, the methods of government which she had learnt from Catherine de Medicis and her uncles the Guises. When Francis II. was lald in his grave, Charles IX., eleven years old, was proclaimed king, Catherine de Medicis regent, and Anthony de Bourbon lieutenant-governor of the kingdom. The Prince of Conde, who had been imprisoned, was set free. The Constable, Anne de Montmorency, resumed his office of Grand Master near the new King. The Guises suffered a fall; but they bided their time, and before long, they were once more to the front again. When Charles IX. succeeded to the throne, it was found that the finances of the kingdom were in a deplorable state. Society was distracted by the feuds of the nobles — over whom, as in Scotland about the same period, the monarch exercised no effective control. France had, however, her Parliament or States-General, which in a measure placed the King’s government en rapport with the nation. On its assembling in December 1560, the Chancellor de L’Hopital exhorted men of all parties to rally round the young King; and, while condemning the odious punishments which had recently been inflicted upon persons of the Reformed faith, he announced the intended holding of a national council, and expressed the desire that thenceforward France should recognize neither Huguenots nor Papists, but only Frenchmen. A Roman Catholic himself, he advised his co-religionists to adorn themselves with virtues and a good life, and to attack their adversaries with the arms of charity, of prayer, and of persuasion. “The knife,” he said, “avails but little against the mind. Gentleness will do more than severity. Give up those fiendish names, — Lutherans, Huguenots, Papists; change them to the name of Christian.” This was the first utterance of the voice of conciliation. The Protestants heard it with joy, their enemies with rage. Jean Quintin, the representative of the clergy, demanded that measures should be taken to deliver France from heresy, and that Charles IX. should vindicate his claim to the title of “Most Christian King.” Lange, the spokesman of the Tiers Etat, on the other hand, declared against “the three principal vices of the ecclesiastics — pride, avarice, and ignorance”; and urged that they should return to the simplicity of the primitive Church. The nobles, divided amongst themselves, demanded, some that the preaching of the Gospel should be forbidden, and others that there should be general freedom of worship; but all who spoke were unanimous in acknowledging the necessity for a reform in the discipline of the Church. While the state of religion thus occupied the Deputies, an equally grave, question occupied the Court. There was no money in the exchequer; the rate of interest was twelve per cent.; and forty-three millions of francs were required to be raised from an impoverished nation. The Deputies were alarmed at the appalling figure which the chancellor specified; and, declaring that they had not the requisite power to vote the required sum, they broke up amidst agitation, leaving De l’Hopital at variance with the Parliament, which refused to register the edict of amnesty to the Protestants which the King had proclaimed. The King’s minister, being most anxious to bring all parties to an agreement if possible, and to allay the civil discord which seemed to be fast precipitating France into civil war, arranged, with the sanction of the Queen-mother, for a conference between the heads of the religious parties; and it took place at Vassy in the presence of the King and his court, in August 1561. Pope Pius IV. was greatly exasperated when informed of the intended conference, and declared himself to have been betrayed by Catherine de Medicis. It appeared to him that the granting, of such a conference was a recognition of the growing power of Heresy in France, — the same heresy which had already deprived Rome of her spiritual dominion over England and Germany. The Pope’s fears were, doubtless, not without foundation; and had France at that juncture possessed a Knox or a Luther — a Regent Murray or a Lord Burleigh — the results would have been widely different. But as it was, the Reformed party had no better leader than the scholarly and pious Theodore de Beza; and the conference had no other result than to drive the contending parties more widely asunder than before. Although a royal edict was published in January 1562, guaranteeing to the Protestants liberty of worship, the concession was set at defiance by the Papal party, whose leaders urged on the people in many districts to molest and attack the followers of the new faith. The Papists denounced the heretics, and called upon the Government to extirpate them; the Huguenots, on their part, denounced the corruptions of the Church, and demanded their reform. There was no dominant or controlling power in the State, which drifted steadily in the direction of civil war. Both parties began to arm; and in such a state of things a spark may kindle a conflagration. The Queen-mother, being a profound dissimulator, appeared still disposed to bargain with the Reformed. She sounded Coligny as to the number of followers that he could, in event of need, place at the service of the King. His answer was, “We have two thousand and fifty churches, and four hundred thousand men able to bear arms, without taking into account our secret adherents.” 2 Such was the critical state of affairs when matters were precipitated to an issue by the action of the Duke of Guise, the leader of the Catholic party. On Christmas Day 1562, the Protestants of Vassy, in Champagne, met to the number of about three thousand, to listen to the preaching of the Word, and to celebrate the Sacrament according to the practice of their Church. Vassy was one of the possessions of the Guises, the mother of whom, Antoinette de Bourbon, an ardent Roman Catholic, could not brook the idea of the vassals of the family daring to profess a faith different from that of their feudal superior. Complaint had been made to her Grace, by the Bishop of Chalons, of the offense done to religion by the proceedings of the people of Vassy; and she threatened them, if they persisted in their proceedings, with the the vengeance of her son the Duke of Guise. Undismayed by this threat, the Protestants of Yassy continued to meet publicly, and listen to their preachers, believing themselves to be under the protection of the law, according to the terms of the royal edict. On the 1st of March 1563, they held one of their meetings, at which about twelve hundred persons were present, in a large barn which served for a church. The day before, the Duke of Guise, accompanied by the duchess his wife, the Cardinal of Lorraine, and about two hundred men armed with arquebusses and poniards, set out for Vassy. They rested during the night at Dampmarten, and next morning marched direct upon the congregation assembled in the barn. The minister, Morel, had only begun his opening prayer, when two shots were fired at the persons on the platform. The congregation tried in vain to shut the doors; the followers of the Duke of Guise burst in, and precipitated themselves on the unarmed men, women, and children. For an hour they fired, hacked, and stabbed amongst them, the duke coolly watching the carnage. Sixty persons of both sexes were left dead on the spot; more than two hundred were severely wounded; the rest contrived to escape. After the massacre, the duke sent for the local judge, and severely reprimanded him for having permitted the Huguenots of Vassy thus to meet. The judge intrenched himself behind the edict of the King. The duke’s eyes flashed with rage, and striking the hilt of his sword with his hand, he said, “The sharp edge of this will soon cut your edict to pieces.” The massacre of Vassy was the match applied to the charge which was now ready to explode. It was the signal to Catholic France to rise in mass against the Huguenots. The clergy glorified the deed from the pulpit, and compared the duke to Moses, when he ordered the extermination of all who had bowed the knee to the golden calf. A fortnight later, the duke entered Paris in triumph, followed by about twelve hundred noblemen and gentlemen, mounted on horses richly caparisoned. The provost of merchants went out to meet and welcome him at the Porte Saint-Denis; and the people received him with immense acclamations as the defender of the faith and the saviour of the country. Theodore de Beza, overwhelmed with grief, waited on his Majesty, to complain of the gross violation of the terms of the royal edict, of which the Guise party had been guilty. But the King and the Queen-mother were powerless amidst the whirlwind of excitement which prevailed throughout Paris. They felt that their own lives were not safe; and they at once secretly departed for Fontainebleau. The Duke of Guise followed them, accompanied by a strong escort. Arrived there, and admitted to an interview, the duke represented to Catherine that, in order to prevent the Huguenots obtaining possession of the King’s person, it was necessary that he should accompany them to Melun; but the Queen-mother might remain if she chose. She determined to accompany her son. After a brief stay, the Court was again installed in the Louvre on the 6th of April. The Queen-mother was thus for a time vanquished by the Guises. The court waverers and the waiters on fortune at once arrayed themselves on the side of the strong. The old Constable de Montmoreney, who had beeu halting between two opinions, signalised his re-adherence to the Church of Rome by a characteristic act. Placing himself at the head of the mob, whose idol he was desirous of being, he led them to the storming of the Protestant church outside the Porte Saint-Jacques, called the “Temple of Jerusalem.” Bursting in the doors of the empty place, they tore up the seats, and placing them and the Bibles in a pile upon the floor, they set the whole on fire, amidst great acclamations. After this exploit, the Constable made a sort of triumphal entry into Paris, as if he had won some great battle. Not content, he set out on the same day to gather more laurels at the village of Popincourt, where he had the Protestant church there set on fire; but the conflagration extending to the adjoining houses, many of them were also burnt down. For these two great exploits the Constable received the nickname of “Captain Burnbenches !” More appalling, however, than the burning of churches, were the massacres which followed that of Vassy all over France — at Paris, at Senlis, at Amiens, at Meaux, at Chalons, at Troyes, at Bar-sur-Seine, at Epernay; at Nevers, at Mans, at Angers, at Blois, and many other places. At Tours the number of the slain was so great, that the banks of the Loire were almost covered with the corpses of men, women, and children. The persecution especially raged in Provence, where the Protestants were put to death after being subjected to a variety of tortures. 4 Any detail of these events would present only a hideous monotony of massacre. We therefore pass them by. Measures were also taken by the Guise party to put down the pestilent nuisance of printing; and printers were forbidden to print or publish anything with out permission, on pain of death. The decree to this effect, relating to Lyons, bearing the signature of Charles IX., and dated the 10th September 1563, is still preserved at the Bibliotheque Imperiale, Paris, and runs as follows: — “It is forbidden to publish or print any work or writing, in rhyme or in prose, without the previous authorisation of our lord the King, under pain of being hanged or strangled.” Another clause says : — “Three times every year a visit shall be made in the shops and printing-houses of the printers and booksellers of Lyons by two trustworthy persons belonging to the Church, one representing the Archbishop and the other the Chapter of the said city, and they shall be accompanied by the seneschal of Lyons.” When the Roman Catholics fell upon the Huguenots with such fury, the latter gave way in all directions. The Prince of Conde, however, having raised the standard of resistance, numbers of followers gathered round his banner. Admiral Coligny at first refused to join him, but, yielding to the entreaties of his wife, he at length placed himself by the side of Conde. A period of fierce civil war ensued, in which the worst passions were evoked on both sides, and frightful cruelties were perpetrated, to the shame of religion, in whose name these things were done. The whole of France became a battle-field. The Huguenots revenged themselves on the assassins of their co-religionists, by defacing and destroying the churches and monasteries. In their iconoclastic rage they hewed and broke the images, the carvings, and the richly-decorated work of the cathedrals at Bourges, at Lyons, at Orleans, at Rouen, at Caen, at Tours, and many other places. They tore down the crucifixes, and dragged them through the streets; they violated the tombs of saints and sovereigns, and profaned the sacred shrines of the Roman Catholics. “It was,” says Henri Martin, “as if a blast of the infernal trumpet had everywhere awakened the spirit of destruction, and the delirious fury grew and became drunk with its own excess.” All this rage, however, was but the inevitable reaction against the hideous cruelties of which the Huguenots had so long been the passive victims. They decapitated beautiful statues of stone, it is true; but the Guises had decapitated the living men. The year after the massacre of Vassy, the Duke of Guise, during the siege of Orleans, was assassinated by a Calvinist named Poltrot de Mene. Several of Poltrot’s relations had been murdered by Roman Catholics. Coligny was accused of complicity in the assassination, but he himself denied all knowledge of it. Every party was alike enraged. Many pacifications were arrived at, but they brought no peace. It is not necessary, in our rapid sketch, to follow the course of the civil war. The Huguenots were everywhere outnumbered. They fought bravely, but they fought as rebels, — the King and the Queen-mother being now at the head of the Guise party. In nearly all the great battles fought by them, they were defeated, — at Dreux, 5 at Saint Denis, at Jarnac, and at Montcontour. But they rallied again, sometimes in greater numbers than before; and at length Coligny was enabled to collect such reinforcements as seriously to threaten Paris. France had now been devastated throughout by the contending armies, and many of the provinces were reduced almost to a state of desert. The combatants on both sides were exhausted, though their rancour remained unabated. Peace, however, had at last become a necessity; and a treaty was signed at Saint Germains, in 1570, by which the Protestants were guaranteed liberty of worship, equality before the law, and admission to the universities: while the four principal towns of La Rochelle, Montauban, Cognac, and La Charite, were committed to them as pledges of safety. Under the terms of this treaty, France enjoyed a state of peace for about two years; but it was only the quiet that preceded the outbreak of another stornm. CHAPTER - THE DUKE OF ALVA IN FLANDERS — MASSACRE OF SAINT BARTHOLOMEW WHILE these events were proceeding in France, a furious civil war was raging in Flanders, which then formed part of the extensive dominions of Spain. This war arose out of the same desire on the part of the Roman Church to crush the Reform movement, which had been making considerable progress in the Low Countries. The Provinces of the Netherlands had reached the summit of commercial and manufacturing prosperity. They were inhabited by a hard-working, intelligent, and enterprising people — great as artists and merchants, painters and printers, architects and ironworkers, — as the decayed glories of Antwerp, Bruges, and Ghent, testify to this day. Although the two latter cities never completely recovered from the injuries inflicted on them by the tyranny of the trades’ unions, there were numerous other towns, where industry had been left comparatively free, in which the arts of peace were cultivated in security. Under the mild sway of the Burgundian dukes, Antwerp became the center of the commerce of northern Europe; and more business is said to have been done there in a month, than at Venice in two years when at the summit of its grandeur. About the year 1550, it was no uncommon sight to see as many as 2,500 ships in the Scheldt, laden with merchandise for all parts of the world. Such was the prosperity of Flanders, when Philip II. of Spain succeeded to the rich inheritance of Burgundy, on the resignation of Charles V. in the year 1566. Philip inherited from his father two passions — hatred of the Reformed Church, and hatred of France. To destroy the one and humiliate the other constituted the ambition of his life; and to accomplish both objects, he spared neither the gold which Pizarro and his followers had brought from the New World, nor the blood of his own subjects. Had his subjects been of the same mind with himself in religious matters, Philip might have escaped the infamy which attaches to his name. But a large proportion of the most skilled and industrious people of the Netherlands, had imbibed the new ideas as to reform in religion, which had swept over northern Europe. They had read the newly-translated Bible with avidity. They had formed themselves into religious communities, and appointed preachers and teachers of their own. In a word, they were Protestants; and the King determined that they should forthwith be reconverted to Roman Catholicism. Shortly before this time, there had risen up in the bosom of the Roman Catholic Church a man in all respects as remarkable as Luther, who exercised as extraordinary an influence, though in precisely the opposite direction, upon the religious history of Europe. This was Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, who infused into his followers a degree of zeal, energy, devotion, and it must be added, unscrupulousness — never stopping to consider the means, provided only the ends could be accomplished — which told most powerfully in the struggle of Protestantism for life or death throughout northern Europe. Loyola was born in 1491. He was wounded at the siege of Pampeluna in 1520. After a period of meditation and mortification, he devoted himself, in 1522, to the service of the Church; and in 1540, the Order of the Jesuits was recognised at Rome and established by papal bull. The Society early took root in France, where it was introduced by the Cardinal de Lorraine; and it shortly after acquired almost supreme influence in the State. Under the Jesuits, the Romish Church, reorganised and redisciplined, became one of the most complete of spiritual machines. The Jesuits enjoined implicit submission and obedience. Against liberty they set up authority. To them the Individual was nothing, the Order everything. They were vigilant sentinels, watching night and day over the interests of Rome. One of the first works to which they applied themselves, was the extirpation of the heretics who had strayed from the fold. The principal instrument which they employed with this object, was the Inquisition; and wherever they succeeded in establishing themselves, that institution was set up, or was armed with fresh powers. They tolerated no half-measures. They were unsparing and unpitying; and wherever a heretic was brought before them, and they had the power to deal with him, he must either recant or die. Accordingly, Philip had no sooner succeeded to the Spanish throne, than he ordered a branch of the Inquisition to be set up in Flanders, with the Cardinal Granvelle as Inquisitor-General. The institution excited great opposition amongst all classes, Catholic as well as Protestant. It very soon evoked much hostility and resistance, which eventually culminated in civil war. Sir Thomas Gresham, writing to Cecil from Antwerp in 1566, said, “There are above 40,000 Protestants in this toune, which will die rather than the word of God should be put to silence.” The struggle which now began was alike fierce and determined on both sides. It extended over many years. The powerful armies which the King directed against his revolted subjects, were led by able generals — by the Duke of Alva, and Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma. In course of time, they succeeded in exterminating or banishing the greater number of Protestants south of the Scheldt; at the same time that they ruined the industry of Flanders, destroyed its trade, and reduced the Catholics themselves to beggary. Bruges and Ghent became crowded with thieves and paupers. The busy quays of Antwerp were deserted, and its industrious artizans, tradesmen, and merchants fled from the place, leaving their property behind them, a prey to the spoiler, The Duchess of Parma, writing to Philip in 1567, said that “in a few days 100,000 men had already left the country with their money and goods, and that more were following every day.” Clough, writing to Gresham from Antwerp in the same year, said — “It is marveylus to see how the pepell pack away from hense; some for one place, and some for another; as well the Papysts as the Protestants; for it is thought that howsomever it goeth, it cannot go well here; for that presently all the wealthy and rich men of both sides, who should be the stay of matters, make themselves away.” The Duke of Alva carried on this frightful war of extermination and persecution for six years, during which he boasted that he had sent 18,000 persons to the stake and the scaffold, besides the immense numbers destroyed in battles and sieges, and in the unrecorded acts of cruelty perpetrated on the peasantry by the Spanish soldiery. The sullen bigot, Philip II., heard of the depopulation and ruin of his provinces without regret; and though Alva was recalled, the war was carried on with increased fury by the generals who succeeded him. What mainly comforted Philip was, that the people who remained were at length terrified into orthodoxy. The ecclesiastics assured the Duke of Parma, the governor, that, notwithstanding the depopulation of the provinces, more people were coming to them for confession and absolution at the last Easter, than had ever come since the beginning of the revolt. Parma immediately communicated the consoling intelligence to Philip, who replied, “You cannot imagine my satisfaction at the news you give me concerning last Easter.” The flight of the Protestants from the Low Countries continued for many years. All who were strong enough to fly, fled; only the weak, the helpless, and the hopeless, remained. The fugitives turned their backs on Flanders, and their faces towards Holland, Germany, and England. They fled there with their wives and children, and the goods that they could carry with them, to seek new homes. Several hundred thousands of her best artizans — clothiers, dyers, weavers, tanners, cutlers, and ironworkers of all kinds — left Flanders, carrying with them into the countries of their adoption, their skill, their intelligence, and their spirit of liberty. The greater number of them went directly into Holland, then gallantly struggling with Spain for independent existence. There they founded new branches of industry, which eventually proved a source of wealth and strength to the United Provinces. Many others passed over into England, hailing it as “Asylum Christi,” and formed the settlements of which an account will be given in succeeding chapters. Having thus led the reader up to the period at which the Exodus of Protestants from the Low Countries took place, we return to France, where Catherine de Medicis was stealthily maturing her plans for the extirpation of heresy in the dominions of her son. The treaty of 1570 was still observed. The Huguenots were allowed to worship God after their own forms; and France was slowly recovering from the fratricidal wounds which she had received during the recent civil wars. We must, however, revert to an interview which took place at Bayonne between Catherine de Medicis and her daughter the Queen of Spain, who was accompanied by the Duke of Alva, in the month of June 1564. The Queen-mother had traveled south to the Spanish frontier, to hold this interview, — of sinister augury for the Huguenots. The Queen-mother had by this time gone entirely round to the Guise party, and carried her son, Charles IX., with her. She was equally desirous, with the Duke of Alva, to extirpate heresy. But while the duke urged their immediate extermination, in accomplishing which he offered the help of a Spanish army, Catherine, on the contrary, was in favor of temporising with them. It might be easy for Philip to extirpate heresy by force in Spain or Italy, where the Protestants were few in number; but the case was different in France, wherethe Huguenots had shown themselves able to bring large armies into the field, led by veteran .generals; and where they actually held in their possession many of the strongest places in France. Alva urged that the Queen-mother should strike at the leaders of the party, and cut them off at once. He would rather catch the large fish and let the small fry alone. “One salmon,” said he, “is worth a thousand frogs.” The Queen-mother assured the duke of her ardent desire to extirpate the Reformed religion; her only difficulty consisted in the means by which it was to be accomplished. She had been brought up in the school of Machiavelli, and could bide her time. In the meanwhile, she determined to retain the governing power as much as possible in her own hands. One method by which she effected this, was by the corruption of her son. “Will there be no pity,” asked M. de Chateaubriand, 4 “for this monarch of twenty-three years of age, born with good talents, with a taste for literature and the arts, a character naturally generous, whom a detestable mother had delighted to deprave by all the abuses of debauchery and power?” The means which she employed are horrible to contemplate. She surrounded him with the worst specimens of both sexes; and the young king was brought up amidst gambling, drunkenness, and debauchery of the worst description. The Queen never lost sight of the promise she had made to the Duke of Alva. The Protestants were to be extirpated, and murder was to be the instrument employed. The young chief of the Huguenots, Henry of Navarre, afterwards Henry IV., was invited, with the other nobles and princes of the Reformers, to attend Court at the nuptials of the King with Elizabeth of Austria, in 1570. But the rejoicings at Paris had no temptations for the cautious chiefs. They preferred to remain in security at their strong fortress of Rochelle. Another plan remained to be adopted. Catherine de Medicis arranged a match between her daughter Margaret and Henry of Navarre; and she desired the King to offer his sister’s hand in marriage to the chief of the Huguenots. The King wrote to Admiral Coligny in terms of praise and admiration, and offered to send an army into Flanders under his command, to co-operate with the Prince of Orange against the King of Spain. Henry of Navarre accepted the proposal of marriage with the King’s sister. Admiral Coligny himself was won over by the King’s offered terms of reconciliation. Jeanne D’Albret, Henry’s mother, concurred in the union; and the Huguenot chiefs generally believed that the marriage might put an end to the feuds and civil wars that had so long prevailed between the rival religious communities of France. Pope Pius V., however, refused to grant the necessary dispensation to enable the marriage to be celebrated according to the rites of the Roman Catholic Church; but the Queen-mother got over this little difficulty by causing a dispensation to be forged in the Pope’s name. As Catherine de Medicis had anticipated, the heads of the Reformed party, regarding the marriage as an important step towards national reconciliation, resorted to Paris in large numbers, to celebrate the event and grace the royal nuptials. Amongst those present were Admiral Coligny and his family. Some of the Huguenot chiefs were not without apprehensions for their personal safety, and even urged the admiral to quit Paris. But he believed in the pretended friendship of the Queen-mother and her son, and insisted on staying until the ceremony was over. The marriage was celebrated with great splendor in the cathedral church of Notre Dame on the 18th of August 1572, — the principal members of the nobility, Protestant as well as Roman Catholic, being present on the occasion. It was followed by a succession of feasts and gaieties, in which the leaders of both parties participated; and the fears of the Huguenots were thus completely disarmed. On the day after the marriage, a secret council was held in Catherine de Medicis’ private chamber, at which it was determined to proclaim a general massacre of the Huguenots. There were present at this meeting, Catherine, her son Henry duke of Anjou, Henry of Guise, an Italian bishop, and other favorites. There is no doubt about the premeditation of the massacre. The French Roman Catholic historians admit it, — De Thou, Mezeray, Perefixe, and Mainbourg. The Italian historians go further: Davila, Capilupi, Adriani, and Catena, admire the premeditation, and see in the massacre the wonderful effect of the blessings of Heaven! The rejoicings on the occasion of the marriage lasted for four days. On the fourth day, the 22nd of August, Coligny attended a council at the Louvre, and went afterwards with the King to the tennis court, where Charles and the Duke of Guise played a game against two Huguenot gentlemen. In the meantime, Maurevel, the king’s assassin (le tueur du roi ) had been sent for, and invited to murder the Huguenot leader. The assassin lay in wait for the Admiral in a house situated near the church of Saint Germain l’Auxerrois, between the Louvre and the Rue Bethisy. As Coligny was walking home from his interview with the King, and reading a paper, Maurevel fired at him, and wounded him in the hand and arm. 6 Coligny succeeded in reaching his hotel, where he was attended by Ambrose Pare, who performed upon him a painful operation. The King visited the wounded man at his hotel, professed the greatest horror at the dastardly act which had been attempted, and vowed vengeance against the assassin. The conspirators met again on the following day, the 23rd of August, at the Louvre. After dinner, the Queen-mother entered the King’s chamber; and, shortly after, his brother, the Duke of Anjou, and several lords of the Roman Catholic party. Charles was then informed that the admiral (who was lying helplessly wounded) and his friends, were at that moment plotting his destruction, and that if he did not anticipate them, he and his family would be sacrificed. Madened by the malicious representations of his mother, he cried out, “Kill all! Kill all! Let not one escape to reproach me with the deed!” The plan of the massacre had already been arranged. Its execution was entrusted to the Dukes of Guise, Anjou, Aumale, Montpensier, and Marshal Favannes. Midnight approached, and the day of St. Bartholomew arrived. It wanted two hours of the appointed time. All was still at the Louvre. The Queen-mother, and her two sons, Charles IX. and the Duke of Anjou, went to an open balcony and awaited the result in breathless silence. Two o’clock struck. the die was cast. The great bell of the church of St. Auxerrois rang to early prayer. It was the arranged signal for the massacre to begin. Almost immediately after, the first pistol-shot was heard. Three hundred of the royal guard, who had been held in readiness during the night, rushed out into the streets, shouting “For God and the King!” To distinguish themselves in the darkness, they wore a white sash on the left arm, and a white cross in their hats. Before leaving the palace, a party of the guard murdered the retinue of the young King of Navarre, then the guests of Charles IX. in the Louvre. On the evening of St. Bartholomew, and after he had given his orders for the massacre, Charles redoubled his kindness to the King of Navarre, and desired him to introduce some of his best officers into the Louvre, that they might be at hand in case of any disturbances from the Guises. One by one these officers were called by name from their rooms, and marched down unarmed into the quadrangle, where they were hewed down before the very eyes of their royal host. A more perfidious butchery is probably not recorded in history. At the same time, mischief was afoot throughout Paris. Le Charron, provost of the merchants, and Marcel, his ancient colleague, had mustered a large number of desperadoes, to whom respective quarters had been previously assigned, and they now hastened to enter upon their frightful morning’s work. The Duke of Guise determined to anticipate all others in the murder of Coligny. Hastening to his hotel, the Duke’s party burst in the outer door. The admiral was roused from his slumber by the shots fired at his followers in the courtyard below. He rose from his couch, and, though scarcely able to stand, he. fled to an upper chamber. Thither he was tracked by his assassins, who stabbed him to death as he stood leaning against the wall. His body was flung out of the window into the courtyard. The Duke of Guise, who had been waiting impatiently below, hurried up to the corpse, and wiping the blood from the admiral’s face, said, “I know him — it is he!” then, kicking the body with his foot, he called out to his followers — “Courage, comrades, we have begun well. Now for the rest! The King commands it.” They then rushed out into the street. The fury of the Court was seconded by the long-pent-up hatred of the Parisians. The massacre of St. Bartholomew was infinitely more ferocious than the butcheries of the Revolutionists of 1792, or of the Communists of 1871. The Huguenots were slaughtered in their beds, or while endeavoring to escape unarmed, without any regard to age or sex or condition. The Court leaders galloped through the streets, cheering the armed citizens to the slaughter. “Death to the Huguenots! Kill — kill: bleeding is as wholesome in August as in May!” shouted the Marshal Favannes; “Kill all! Kill all! God will know His own!” Nor were the populace slow to imitate the bloodthirstiness of their superiors. The slaughter, however, was not wholly confined to the Huguenots. Secret revenge and personal hatred embraced this glorious opportunity; and many Roman Catholics fell by the hands of these Roman Catholic assassins. Firing was heard in every quarter throughout Paris. The houses of the Huguenots, which had been marked, were broken into;and men, women, and children, were sabred or shot down. It was of no use trying to fly. The fugitives were slaughtered in the streets. The King himself seized his arquebus, and securely fired upon his subjects from a window in the Louvre. Corpses blocked the doorways; mutilated bodies lay in every lane and passage; and thousands were cast into the Seine, then swollen by a flood. Jean Goujon, the famous sculptor, sometimes styled the French Phidias, was shot from below, whilst employed on a scaffold in executing the decorative work of the old Louvre. Goudimal, the musical composer, and Ramus, the philosopher, were slain during the massacre. Before this time, Ramus’s house had been pillaged and his library destroyed. Dumoulin, the great jurisconsult, had previously escaped by death. “The execrable day of St. Bartholomew,” said the Catholic Chateaubriand, “only made martyrs: it gave to philosophical ideas an advantage over religious ideas which has never since been lost.” At the same time, there were many who escaped the swords of the assassins. Some of the Huguenots on the southern side of the Seine had time to comprehend their position, and escaped. But what of Henry of Navarre and Henry of Conde? The King sent for them during the massacre, and said to them in a ferocious tone, “The mass, death, or the Bastille!” After some resistance, the princes consented to make profession of the Romish faith. Palissy, of whom we have already spoken, was now an old man, and he owed his escape to the circumstance that he was then in the employment of Catherine de Medicis. Ambrose Pare, the surgeon, also escaped. He had won the confidence of the King, by saving him from the effects of a wound inflicted on him by a clumsy surgeon, when performing the operation of venesection. Pare, though a Huguenot, held the important office of Surgeon-in-ordinary to the King, and was constantly about his person. To this circumstance he owed his escape from the massacre, — the King having concealed him during the first night in a private room adjoining his own chamber. The massacre lasted for three days. At length, on the fourth day, when the fury of the assassins had become satiated, and the Huguenots had for the most part been slain, a dead silence fell upon the streets of Paris. Perhaps the people began to reflect that it was their own countrymen whom they had slain These dreadful deeds at the capital were almost immediately followed by similar massacres all over France. From fifteen to eighteen hundred persons were killed at Lyons; and the dwellers on the Rhone, below that city, were horrified by the sight of the dead bodies floating down the river. Six hundred were killed at Rouen; and many more at Dieppe and Havre. The massacre in the provinces lasted more than six weeks! The numbers killed throughout France have been variously estimated. Sully says 70,000 were slain; the Roman Catholic Bishop Perefixe has said that 100,000 were destroyed. While the streets of Paris were still besmeared with blood, the clergy celebrated an extraordinary jubilee. They appeared in a general procession. They determined to consecrate an annual feast to a triumph so glorious. A medal was struck in commemoration of the event, bearing the legend,” Piety has awakened justice”! Catherine de Medicis wrote in triumph to the Duke of Alva, to Philip II., and to the Pope, describing the results of the three days’ dreadful work in Paris. When Philip heard of the massacre, he is said to have laughed for the first and only time in his life. Rome was thrown into a delirium of joy at the news. The cannon were fired at St. Angelo; Gregory XIII. and his cardinals went in procession from sanctuary to sanctuary to give God thanks for the massacre. The subject was ordered to be painted, and a medal was struck to celebrate the event, with the Pope’s head on one side, and on the other an angel, with a cross in one hand and a sword in the other, pursuing and slaying a band of flying heretics — strange work for an angel! The legend it bears —UGONOTTORUM STRAGES, 1572 (Massacre of the Huguenots, 1572) — briefly epitomises the horrible story. The Cardinal of Lorraine, the head of the Guises, was at Rome at the time of the massacre, and he celebrated the affair by a procession to the French church of St. Louis. He had an inscription written upon the gates in letters of gold, saying that “the Lord had granted the prayers which he had offered to Him for twelve years.” Cardinal Orsini was despatched on a special mission to Paris to congratulate the King; and on his passage through Lyons, the assassins of the Huguenots, with the blood on their hands scarcely dry, knelt before the holy man in the cathedral, and received his blessing. As for the wretched young King of France, the terrible crime, to which he had been a party, weighed upon his mind to the last moment of his life. He survived the massacre for about two years; but the recollection of the scenes of which he had been a witness, constantly haunted him. He became restless, haggard, and miserable. He saw his murdered guests sitting by his side, at bed and at board. “Ambrose,” said he to his confidential physician, “I know not what has happened to me these two or three days past, but I feel my mind and body as much at enmity with each other as if I was seized with a fever. Sleeping or waking, the murdered Huguenots seem ever present to my eyes, with ghastly faces, and weltering in blood. I wish the innocent and helpless had been spared.” He died in tortures of mind impossible to be described, — attended in his last moments, strange to say, by a Huguenot physician and a Huguenot nurse: one of the worst horrors that haunted him being that his own mother was causing his death by slow poisoning, — an art in which he knew that great bad woman to be fearfully accomplished. To return to the surviving Huguenots, and the measures adopted by them for self-preservation. Though they were at first stunned by the massacre, they were not slow to associate themselves together, in those disticts in which they were sufficiently strong, for purposes of self-defense. Along the western seaboard, at points where they felt themselves unable to make head against their persecutors, they put to sea in ships and boats, and made for England, where they landed in great numbers — at Rye, at Hastings, at Southampton, and the numerous other ports on the south coast. This was particularly the case with the artizans and skilled labor class, whose means of living are always imperilled by civil war. These fled into England, to endeavor, if possible, to pursue their respective callings in peace, and to worship God according to conscience. But the Huguenot nobles and gentry would not and could not abandon their followers to destruction. They gathered together in their strong places, and prepared to defend themselves, by force against force,. In the Cevennes, Dauphiny, and other quarters, they betook themselves to the mountains for refuge. In the plains of the south, fifty towns closed their gates against the royal troops. Wherever resistance was possible, it showed itself. The little town of Sancerre held out successfully for ten months, during which the inhabitants, without arms, heroically defended themselves with slings called “the arquebusses of Sancerre”; enduring meanwhile the most horrible privations, and reduced to eat moles, snails, bread made of straw mixed with scraps of horse-harness, and even the parchment of old title-deeds. A violent attack was made upon the Huguenot fortress of La Rochelle by the Duke of Anjou, the King’s brother, — one of the principal authors of the massacre of St. Bartholemew. While the assassins were at work throughout the country, the Huguenots resorted to their towns of refuge. La Rochelle was one of these. Fugitives fled thither from all quarters. Sixteen hundred citizens and 1,500 strangers occupied the place. The King despatched General Biron with a strong force to garrison the town. It was too late: the citizens refused to admit him. Hence it was determined to attack La Rochelle, and reduce it to submission. Towards the end of 1572, the place was accordingly invested by the royal army, which continued to receive reinforcements during the winter; and in spring the Duke of Anjou arrived and assumed the chief command. He was accompanied by the Duke of Alencon, the Guises, and other royalist chiefs, as well as by Henry of Navarre and Henry Prince of Conde; and the Duke of Anjou now desired to show them, how speedily and thoroughly he could root out this nest of piracy and sedition. La Rochelle was well provisioned and garrisoned. The citizens had made good use of the winter months to strengthen the ramparts, and improve the defences of the place. The besiegers erected forts on either side of the entrance to the port, and stationed a large vessel, heavily armed with artillery, in the center of the bay, thus entirely cutting off all communication with the place by sea. La Noue, the commander of the garrison, was disposed to negotiate, but the people would not hear of capitulation on any terms. They knew that their admiral, Jean Sore, and the Count of Montgomery, were organizing in England an army of refugee Huguenots, and they daily expected to see the sails of their squadron in the offing. After five weeks’ battering of the walls, attended with many skirmishes, the besiegers determined upon a general assault. The first proved a total failure. Three other furious assaults followed, which were repulsed with great loss. Four times the Huguenot hymn, “Que .Dieu se montre seulement!” sounded as a chant of triumph from the towers of La Rochelle; and the besiegers were driven back again and again. The fourth and most desperate assault was made on the Bastion de l’Evangile, now occupied as a. cemetery, at the north-west corner of the town. The Duke of Anjou had just been elected King of Poland, and he determined to celebrate the event by the capture of the place. After a feu de joie from all the guns, which were heavily shotted and pointed at the bastion, a breach was made, and the troops rushed forward to the assault. The defenders crowded the breach, desperately contesting every inch of ground. The townspeople and the women cheered them on. The women even mounted the bastions and poured boiling tar down on the assailants, as well as stink-pots, hot iron, and showers of stones. The loss of life in the assault was dreadful. The Bastion de I’Evangile proved the cemetery of the royal army. The Duke of Nevers, the Marquis of Mayenne,.Count Retz, Du Guast (the Duke of Anjou’s favorite), and many other distinguished officers, were more or less severely wounded. Cosseins, the captain of the guard who superintended the assassination of Admiral Coligny, was one of the numerous heap of dead that filled the breach. By the month of June, 20,000 royalist troops had perished, and the place was not yet taken. The provisions of the besieged began to run short, but not their courage. An unusual supply of shell-fish in the bay and the harbour, seemed to them a supply of food from heaven. Their admiral, Jean Sore, appeared with a small squadron off the bay, but he could not force the entrance to the harbour. The royal army, however, did not renew the attack. The Duke of Anjou, desirous of entering into possession of his kingdom, negotiated for peace; and a peace was arranged on the 24th of June, 1573, by which the Protestants of La Rochelle, Nismes, and Montauban were guaranteed the free exercise of their religion. The siege was raised three days later, after having lasted six months and a half. The Duke of Anjou then proceeded to Poland to assume the rule of his kingdom. That country was then in a wretched state. The people were discontented; the aristocracy were venal: all were corrupt. Their new king very soon detested the country as well as the people. At length, when Charles IX., tortured in mind and body, died in May 1574, less than two years after the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, the Duke of Anjou suddenly returned to Paris to assume the title of king, under the name of Henry III. This was the third son of Catherine de Medicis’ who ruled France; but his reign was not more successful than those of his elder brothers. He was more bigoted than either of them; and though he flogged himself in the public street, and went in procession from shrine to shrine, yet he jeered at the saints he pretended to reverence. He turned religion into ridicule. He was surrounded by minions and favorites, male and female, and made his court a scene of debauchery. The feeling of loyalty was rudely shaken, amongst Roman Catholics as well as Huguenots. Disgust took possession of the hearts of all honorable and religious men. They saw knighthood covered with disgrace, and religion degraded into ridicule. Henry of Navarre, who had been detained at court, virtually a prisoner, since the events of St. Bartholomew’s Day, made his escape, accompanied by the Prince of Conde. They abjured the Roman Catholic religion, which had been imposed upon them by Charles IX. under fear of assassination. They set up the old standard of freedom of religion, and levies flocked to their support. The Queen-mother granted another peace. The worship of the Huguenots was permitted in all parts of France, except in Paris; the massacre of Saint Bartholomew was disavowed; and several additional towns were surrendered to the Protestants as pledges for their security. All this, however, was most galling to the Roman Catholics. They were still determined to put down the Reformed religion. Accordingly, in 1576, a Holy League was formed, the object of which was to extirpate heresy, and to spare neither friend nor foe until the pestilence was banished. The leader of this League was Henry of Guise, son of that old Francis of Guise who had led the Royal assassins at the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. Henry’s whole heart was devoted to Rome. He was the most popular man in Paris. The Parisians even hailed him as the future king of France. “No Protestant king of Navarre,” they cried: “we will have Catholic Henry of Guise!” The States-General met at Blois, when the members, being bribed or bullied by the Guises, passed an edict interdicting the Huguenot faith, and withdrawing all the guarantee towns from their hands. This amounted to a declaration of war. The King himself joined the League, and instead of being the King of the nation, degraded himself into being the King of a party. But the policy of the Medicis and the Guises was of a piece throughout. The Holy League was followed by a dreary and wasteful succession of civil wars. The country was overrun by lawless troops, who robbed, burned, and murdered everywhere. There were seven civil wars in all. One was called the “War of the Lovers,” having originated in an intrigue of the court. Another was called the “War of the three Henrys,” the King having separated himself from Henry of Guise, but refused to unite with Henry of Navarre. Another was called the “War of the Barricades,” the troops of Henry of Guise having attacked the Royal troops (chiefly Swiss) in the streets of Paris. Henry III. then fled to Chartres, leaving Paris in the possession of Henry of Guise. The States were summoned to meet at Blois in December 1588. Henry of Guise went, at the earnest invitation of the King, to meet him and the Queen-mother. As he crossed the hall that led to the great staircase, the King’s attendants locked and barred the gates. Guise entered the councilchamber, and was warming himself at the fire, when he was sent for by the King. Turning aside the tapestry hung over the door, he was set upon by forty-five gentlemen-in- waiting armed with daggers, and fell pierced with more than forty wounds. The royal murderer, issuing from the oratory of Catherine de Medicis, came to look at the corpse of the once mighty Henry of Guise, kicked it in the face (as Henry’s father had before kicked the face of Admiral Coligny), and saying, “Je ne le croyais pas aussi grand,” he ordered the corpse to be burnt and the ashes thrown into the Loire. On the following day, the Cardinal de Lorraine, brother of the Duke, was murdered in another part of the castle. Catherine de Medicis had now finished the atrocities of her life. She died twelve days after the murder of Henry of Guise; and eight months later, her son Henry III. was assassinated by Jacques Clement, the Jesuit monk, in the camp before Paris, in August 1589. Such was the end of the Guises, and such was the end of Catherine de Medicis and her sons. They all carried on their foreheads the ineffaceable brand of the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. Henry III. was the last of the House of Valois. At his death, Henry of Navarre, by virtue of his right as next heir to the crown, succeeded to the throne of France, as Henry the Fourth. CHAPTER - RELATIONS OF ENGLAND WITH FRANCE AND SPAIN WHILE the rulers of France and Spain were making these determined efforts to crush the principles of the Reformation in their dominions, the Protestants of England regarded their proceedings with no small degree of apprehension and alarm. They had themselves suffered from sanguinary persecutions, during the reign of Queen Mary, commonly known as “the bloody.” Mary had married Philip, Prince of Spain, afterwards Philip II., one of the cruelest and most bigoted of kings. Protestant writers affirm that about two hundred and eighty victims perished at the stake, from the 4th of February 1555, when John Rogers was burnt at Smithfield, — to the 10th, of November 1558, when three men and two women were burnt at Colchester. Dr. Lingard, after making every allowance, admits that “in the space of four years almost two hundred persons perished in the flames for religious opinion.” The bond which, for a time, united England to Spain, had enabled Mary to engage in a war with France, during which the English and Spanish troops fought together. The only result, so far as England was concerned, was that the town and territory; of Calais, which up to that time had been possessed by England, were taken by the French under the Duke of Guise in 1558, after a siege of a few days. This event, which was regarded as a national disgrace, excited the bitterest feelings of dissatisfaction throughout the country. But towards the end of the year Mary died; and the burnings of heretics and the defeats of English soldiers came to an end. She was succeeded by her half-sister Elizabeth, who completely reversed the policy which Mary and her husband had adopted in England. Though the Reformed faith had made considerable progress in the English towns at the period of Elizabeth’s accession to the throne in 1558, it was still in a considerable minority throughout the country. 2 The great body of the nobility, the landed gentry, and the rural population, adhered to the old religion; while there was a considerable middle class of Gallios, who were content to wait the issue of events before declaring themselves for either side. During the reigns which had preceded that of Elizabeth, the country had been ill-governed and the public interests neglected. The nation was in debt and unarmed, with war raging abroad. But Elizabeth’s greatest difficulty consisted in the fact of her being a Protestant, and the successor of a Roman Catholic queen who had reigned with undisputed power during the five years which preceded her accession to the throne. No sooner had she become queen than the embarrassment of her position was at once felt. The Pope denied her legitimacy, and refused to recognise her authority. The bishops refused to crown her. The two universities united with Convocation in presenting to the House of Lords a declaration in favor of the papal supremacy. The King of France openly supported the claim of Mary Queen of Scots to the English throne, and a large and influential body of the nobility and gentry were her secret if not her avowed partisans. From the day of her ascending the throne, Elizabeth was the almost constant object of plots formed to destroy her, and thus to pave the way for the re-establishment of the old religion. Elizabeth might possibly have escaped from her difficulties by accepting the hand of Philip II. of Spain, which was offered her. She refused, and determined to trust to her people. But her enemies were numerous, powerful, and active, in conspiring against her authority. They had their emissaries at the French and Spanish courts, and at the camp of Alva in the Netherlands, urging the invasion of England and the overthrow of the English queen. One of the circumstances which gave the most grievous offense to the French and Spanish monarchs, was the free asylum which Elizabeth offered in England to the Protestants flying from persecution abroad. Though these rulers would not permit their subjects to worship according to conscience in their own country, neither would they tolerate their leaving it to worship in freedom elsewhere. Conformity, not depopulation, was their object: conformity by force, if not by suasion. All attempts made by the persecuted to leave France or Flanders were accordingly interdicted. They were threatened with confiscation of their’property and goods if they fled, and with death if they remained. The hearts of the kings were hardened: they “would not let the people go!” But the ocean was a broad and free road that could not be closed; and the persecuted escaped by sea. Tidings reached the kings of the escape of their subjects, whom they had failed either to convert or to kill. They could only gnash their teeth and utter threats against the queen and the nation that had given their persecuted people asylum. The French king formally demanded that Elizabeth should banish his fugitive subjects from her realm as rebels and heretics; but he was unable to enforce, his demands, and the fugitives remained. The Spanish monarch called upon the Pope to interfere; and he in his turn tried to close the ports of England against foreign heretics. In a communication addressed by him to Elizabeth, the Pope proclaimed the fugitives to ,be “drunkards and sectaries” — ebriosi et sectarii , — and declared “that all such as were the worst of the people resorted to England, and were by the Queen received into safe protection” — ad quam, velut ad asylum omnium impestissimi perfugium invenerunt . The Popes denunciations of the refugees were answered by Bishop Jewell, who vindicated their character, and held them up as examples of industry and orderly living.. “Is it not lawful,” he asked, “for the Queen to receive strangers without the Pope’s warrant?” Quoting the above-cited Latin passages, he proceeded: “Thus he speaketh of the poor exiles of Flanders, France, and other countries, who either lost or left behind them all that they had — goods, lands, and houses — not for adultery, or theft, or treason, but for the profession of the Gospel. It pleased God here to cast them on land; the Queen, of her gracious pity hath granted them harbour. Is it so heinous a thing; to show mercy?” The bishop proceeded to retort upon the Pope for harbouring 6,000 usurers and 20,000 courtezans in his own city of Rome; and he desired to know whether, if the Pope was to be allowed to entertain such “servants of the devil,” the Queen of England was to be denied the liberty of receiving “a few servants of God”? “They are,” he continued, “our brethren: they live not idly. If they have houses of us, they pay rent for them. They hold not our grounds but by making due recompense. They beg not in our streets, nor crave anything at our hands, but to breathe our air and to see our sun. They labor truefully, they live sparingly. They are good examples of virtue, travail, faith, and patience. The towns in which they abide are happy; for God doth follow them with His blessings.” When the French and Spanish monarchs found that Elizabeth continued to give an asylum to their Protestant subjects, they proceeded to compass her death. Assassination was in those days regarded as the readiest method of getting rid of an adversary; and in the case of an excommunicated person, it was regarded almost in the light of a religious duty. When the Regent Murray (of Scotland) was assassinated by Bothwellhaugh, in 1570, Mary Queen of Scotland gave the assassin a pension. Attempts were made about the same time on the life of William of Orange, surnamed “The Silent.” One made at Mechlin, in 1572, proved a failure; but William was eventually assassinated at Delft, in 1585, by Balthazar Gerard, an avowed agent of Philip II. and the Jesuits; and Philip afterwards ennobled the family of the assassin. In the meantime Mary, Queen of Scotland, after her return from France, had assumed the government of her northern subjects. Mary never forgot the school of the Guises, in which she had been trained. She desired to enforce Popery upon Scotland as the Guises had enforced it upon France. But under the spiritual direction of Knox, the principles of the Reformation had already taken strong hold of the minds of her Scotch subjects. Her reign was a reign of bitterness and defeat. Her marriage with Bothwell, the murderer of her second husband, was the consummation of her government of Scotland. After the rout of her troops at Longside, she fled across the Border and took refuge in England. Mary gave herself up a prisoner into the hands of the English government. She was confined in various castles. When the French and Spanish ambassadors, who were then at the English court, were privily engaged in stirring up discontent against Elizabeth, and organizing plots against her, they found a ready instrument in the Queen of Scots, then confined in Tutbury Castle. Mary was not held so strict a prisoner to be precluded from carrying on an active correspondence with her partizans in England and Scotland, with the Duke of Guise and others in France, and with the Duke of Alva and Philip II. in Flanders and Spain. Guilty though the Queen of Scots had been of the death of her husband, the Roman Catholics of England regarded her as their rightful head, and were ready to rise in arms in her cause. Mary was an inveterate intriguer. We find her entreating the Courts of France and Spain to send her soldiers, artillerymen, and arms; and pressing the king of Spain to set on foot the invasion of England, with the object of dethroning Elizabeth and restoring the Roman Catholic faith. Her importunities, as well as the fascinations of her person, were not without their effect upon those under her immediate influence; and she succeeded in inducing the Duke of Norfolk, who cherished the hope of becoming her fourth husband, to undertake a scheme for her liberation. A conspiracy of the leading nobles was formed, at the head of which were the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland; and in the autumn of 1568 they raised the standard of revolt in the northern counties, where the power of the Roman Catholic party was the strongest, 4 But the rising was speedily suppressed; some of its leaders fled into Scotland, and others into foreign countries; the Duke of Norfolk was sent to the Tower; and the Queen’s authority was for the time upheld. The Pope next launched against Elizabeth the most formidable missile of the Church — a bull of excommunication — in which he declared her to be cut off, as the minister of iniquity, from the community of the faithful, and forbade her subjects to recognize her as their sovereign. This document was found nailed up on the Bishop of London’s door on the morning of the 15th of May, 1570. The French and Spanish Courts now considered themselves at liberty to compass the life of Elizabeth by assassination. The Cardinal de Lorraine, head of the Church in France, and the confidential adviser of the Queen-mother, hired a party of assassins in the course of the same year, for the purpose of destroying Elizabeth, because of the encouragement she had given to Coligny and the French Huguenots. Again, the Duke of Alva, in his correspondence with Mary Queen of Scots and the leaders of the Roman Catholic party in England, insisted throughout that the first condition of sending a Spanish army to their assistance, was the death of Elizabeth. Such was the state of affairs when the Bishop of Ross, one of Mary’s most zealous partizans, set on foot a conspiracy for the destruction of the Queen. The principal agent employed in communicating with foreign powers on the subject was one Ridolfi, a rich Florentine banker in London, director of the company of Italian merchants, and an ardent Papist. Minute Instructions were drawn up and intrusted to Ridolfi, to be laid by him before Pope Pius V. and Philip II. of Spain. On his way to Rome through the Low countries, he waited on the Duke of Alva, and presented to him a letter from Mary Queen of Scots, beseeching him to furnish her with prompt assistance, with the object of “laying all this island” under perpetual obligations to his master the King of Spain as well as to herself, as the faithful executor of his commands. At Rome Ridolfi was welcomed by the Pope, who eagerly adopted his plans, and furnished him with a letter to Philip II., conjuring that monarch by his fervent piety towards God to furnish all the means he might judge most suitable for carrying them into effect. Ridolfi next proceeded to Madrid to hold an interview with the Spanish Court, and arrange for the murder of the English Queen. He was received to a conference with the Council of State, at which were ,resent the Pope’s nuncio, the Cardinal Archbishop f Seville (Inquisitor-General); the Grand Prior of Castille, the Duke of Feria, the Prince of Eboli, and other high ministers of Spain. Ridolfi proceeded to lay his plan for assassinating Elizabeth before the Council. 6 He said “the blow should not be struck in London, because that city was the stronghold of heresy; but while she was travelling.” On the Council proceeding to discuss the expediency of the proposed murder, the Pope’s nuncio at once under-took to answer all objections. The one sufficient pretext, he said, was the bull of excommunication. The vicar of God had deprived Elizabeth of her throne, and the soldiers of the Church were the instruments of his decree to execute the sentence of Heaven against the heretical tyrant. On this, one Chapin Vitelli, who had come from Flanders to attend the Council, offered himself as the assassin. He said, if the matter was intrusted to him, he would take or kill the Queen. The councillors of state present then severally stated their views, which were placed on record, and are still to be seen in the archives at Simancas. Philip II. concurred in the plot, and professed himself ready to undertake the conquest of England by force if it failed; but he suggested that the Pope should supply the necessary money. Philip, however, was a man of hesitating purpose; and, foreseeing the dangers of the enterprise, he delayed embarking in it, and eventually resolved to leave the matter to the decision of the Duke of Alva. While these measures against the life of Elizabeth were being devised abroad, Mary Queen of Scots was diligently occupied at Chatsworth in encouraging a like plot at home with the same object. Lord Burleigh, however, succeeded in gaining a clue to the conspiracy, on which the principal agents in England were apprehended, and the Queen was put upon her guard. The Spanish ambassador, Don Gerau, being found in secret correspondence with Mary, was warned to depart the realm; his last characteristic act being to hire two bravoes to assassinate Burleigh. He lingered on the road to Dover, hoping to hear that the deed had been done. But the assassins were detected in time, and instead of taking Burleigh’s life, they only lost their own. The Protestant party were from time to time thrown into agonies of alarm by the rumor of these plots against the life of their Queen, and by the reported apprehension of agents of foreign powers arriving in England for the purpose of stirring up rebellion and preparing the way for the landing of the Duke of Alva and his army. The intelligence brought by the poor hunted Flemings, who had by this time landed in England in large numbers, and settled in London and the principal towns of the south, and the accounts which they spread abroad of the terrors of Philip’s rule in the Low Countries, told plainly enough what he English Protestants had to expect if the threatened Spanish invasion succeeded. The effect of these proceedings was to rouse a general feeling of indignation against the foreign ,lotters and persecutors, and to evoke an active and energtic public opinion in support of the Queen and her government. Though a large proportion of the English people were in a great measure undecided as to their faith, their feeling of nationality was intense. The conduct of Elizabeth herself was doubtless influenced quite as much by political as religious considerations; and in the midst of the difficulties by which she was surrounded, her policy often seemed tortuous and inconsistent. The nation was, indeed, in one of the greatest crises of its fate. The Queen, her ministers, and the nation at large, every day more clearly recognised in the great questions at stake, not merely the cause of Protestantism against Popery, but of English nationality against foreign ascendency, and of resistance to the threatened yoke of Rome, France, and Spain. The massacre of Saint Bartholomew, which shortly followed, exercised a powerful influence in determining the sympathies of the English people. The news of its occurrence called forth a general shout of execration. The Huguenot fugitives, who crowded for refuge into the southern ports, brought with them accounts of the barbarities practiced on their fellowcountrymen, which filled the national mind with horror. The people would have willingly rushed into a war, to punish the perfidy and cruelty of the French Roman Catholics, but Elizabeth forbade her subjects to take up arms except on their own account as private volunteers. What the Queen’s private feelings were, may be inferred from the reception which she gave to La Mothe Fenelon, the French ambassador, on his first appearance at Court after the massacre. For several days she refused to see him, but at length she admitted him to an audience. The lords and ladies in waiting received him in profound silence. They were dressed in deep mourning, and grief seemed to sit on every countenance. They did not deign to salute, or even to look at the ambassador, as he advanced towards the Queen, who received him with a severe and mournful countenance; and, stammering out his odious apology, he hastened from her presence. Rarely, if ever, had a French ambassador appeared at a foreign court, ashamed of the country he represented; but on this occasion, La Mothe Fenelon declared, in the bitterness of his heart, that he blushed to bear the name of Frenchman. The perfidious butchery of the Huguenots excited the profoundest indignation throughout Scotland. John Knox denounced it from the pulpit of St. Giles’s. “The sentence is gone forth,” he said “against this murderer, the King of France; and the vengeance of God will not be withdrawn from his house. His name shall be held in execration by posterity; and no one who shall spring from his loins shall possess the kingdom in peace, unless repentance come to prevent the judgment of God.” The massacre of Saint Bartholomew most probably sealed the fate of Mary Stuart. She herself rejoiced in it as a bold stroke for the Faith, and, it might be, as the signal for a like enterprise on her own behalf. Accordingly, she went on plotting as before; and in 1581 she was found engaged in a conspiracy with the Duke of Lennox for the re-establishment of Popery in Scotland, under the auspices of the Jesuits. These intrigues of the Queen of Scots at length became intolerable. Her repeated and urgent solicitations to the King of Spain to invade England with a view to the re-establishment of the old religion — the conspiracies against the life of Elizabeth in which she was from time to time detected 7 — excited the vehement indignation of the English nation, and eventually led to her trial and execution; for it was felt that so long as Mary Stuart lived, the life of the English Queen, as well as the liberties of the English people, were in constant jeopardy. It is doubtless easy to condemn the policy of Elizabeth in this matter, now that we are living in the light of the nineteenth century, and peacefully enjoying the freedom won for us through the sufferings and agony of our forefathers. But, in judging of the transactions of those times, it is right that allowance should be made for the different moral sense which then prevailed, as well as for the circumstances amidst which the nation carried on its life-and-death struggle for independent existence. Right is still right, it is true; but the times have become completely changed, and public opinion has changed with them. In the meanwhile, religious persecutions continued to rage abroad with as much fury as before; and fugitives from Flanders and France continued to take refuge in England, where they received protection and asylum. Few of the refugees brought any property with them: the greater number were entirely destitute. But many brought with them that kind of wealth which money cannot buy — intelligence, skill, virtue, and the spirit of independence, — those very qualities, which made them hateful to their persecutors, rendering them all the more valuable to the countries of their adoption. A large part of Flanders, before so rich and so prosperous, had by this time become reduced almost to a state of desert. The country was eaten bare by the Spanish armies. Wild beasts infested the abandoned dwellings of the peasantry, and wolves littered their young in the deserted farmhouses. Bruges and Ghent became the resort of thieves and paupers. The sack of Antwerp in 1585 gave the last blow to the staggering industry of that great city; and though many of its best citizens had already fled from it into Holland and England, one-third of the remaining merchants and workers in silks, damasks, and other stuffs, shook the dust of the Low Countries from their feet, and left the country forever. Philip of Spain at length determined to take summary vengence upon England. He was master of the most powerful army and navy in the world, and he believed that he could effect by force what he had been unable to compass by intrigue. The most stern and bigoted of kings, the great colossus of the Papacy, the duly-appointed Defender of the Faith, he resolved, at the same time that he pursued and punished his recreant subjects who had taken refuge in England, to degrade and expel the sacrilegious occupant of the English throne. Accordingly, in 1588, he prepared and launched his Sacred Armada, one of the most powerfu! armaments that ever put to sea. It consisted of 130 ships, besides transports, carrying 2,650 great guns and 33,000 soldiers and sailors, besides 180 priests and monks under a Vicar-General of the Holy Inquisition. It was also furnished with chains and instruments of torture, and with smiths and mechanics to set them to work, — destined for the punishment of the audacious and pestilent heretics who had so long defied the triumphant power of Spain. This armament was to be joined in its progress by another equally powerful fleet off the coast of Flanders, consisting of an immense number of flat-bottomed boats, carrying an army of 100,000 men, equipped with the best Weapons and materials of war, who were to be conveyed to the mouth of the Thames under the escort of the great Spanish fleet. The expedition was ably planned. The Pope blessed it, and promised to co-operate with his money; pledging himself to advance a million of ducats so soon as the expedition reached the British shores. At the same time, the bull issued by Pope Pius V., excommunicating Elizabeth and dispossessing her of her throne, was confirmed by Sextus V., and re-issued with additional anathemas, Setting forth under such auspices, it is not surprising to find that Catholic Europe entertained the conviction that the expedition must necessarily prove successful, and that Elizabeth and Protestantism in England were doomed to inevitable destruction. No measure could, however, have been better calculated than this to weld the English people of all ranks and classes, Catholics as well as Protestants, into one united nation. The threatened invasion of England by a foreign power — above all by a power so hated as Spain — roused the patriotic feeling of all classes. There was a general rising and arming, by land and by sea. Along the south coast the whole maritime population arrayed themselves in arms; and every available ship, sloop, and wherry, was manned and sent forth to meet and fight the Spaniards. The result is matter of history. The Sacred and Invincible Armada was shattered by the ships of Drake, Hawkins, and Howard, and finally scattered by the tempests of the Almighty. The free asylum of England was maintained. The hunted exiles were thenceforward free to worship and to labor in peace; and the beneficent effects of the addition of so many skilled, industrious, and free-minded men to our population, are felt in England to this day. Philip II. of Spain died in 1598, the same year in which Henry IV. of France promulgated the Edict of Nantes. At his accession to the Spanish throne in 1556, Philip was the most powerful monarch in Europe, served by the ablest generals and admirals, with an immense army and navy at his command. At his death, Spain was distracted and defeated, with a bankrupt exchequer; Holland was free, and Flanders in ruins. The intellect and energies of Spain were prostrate; but the priests were paramount. The only institution that flourished throughout the dominions of Philip, at his death, was the Inquisition. Elizabeth of England, on the other hand, succeeded, in 1558, to an impoverished kingdom, an empty exchequer, and the government of a distracted people, one-half of whom denied, and were even ready to resist, her authority. England was then without any weight in the affairs of Europe. She had no army, and her navy was contemptible. After a reign of forty-five years, the aspect of affairs had become completely changed. The nation was found firmly united, content, free, and prosperous. An immense impulse had been given to industry. The intellect of the people had become awakened, and a literature sprang up which is the wonder even of modern times. The power of England abroad was everywhere recognised. The scepter of the seas was wrested from Spain, and England thenceforward commanded the high-road to America and the Indies. The Queen was supported by able ministers, though not more able than those who surrounded the King of Spain. But the spirit that moved them was wholly different — the English monarch encouraging freedom, the Spanish repressing it. As the one was the founder of modern England, so the other was of modern Spain. It is true, Elizabeth did not rise to the high idea of complete religious liberty. But no one then did — not even the most advanced thinker. Still, the foundations of such liberty were laid, while industry was fostered and protected. It was accomplishing a great deal, to have accomplished this much. The rest was the work of time and experience, and the action of free and energetic men living in an atmosphere of freedom. CHAPTER - SETTLEMENTS AND INDUSTRIES OF THE PROTESTANT REFUGEES IN ENGLAND. IN early times, the English were for the most part a pastoral and agricultural, and not a manufacturing people. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, most articles of clothing, excepting such as were produced by ordinary domestic industry, were imported from Flanders, France, and Germany. 1 The great staple of England was Wool, which was sent abroad in large quantities. “The ribs of all people throughout the world,” wrote Matthew Paris, “are kept warm by the fleeces of English wool.” The wool and its growers were on one side of the English Channel, and the skilled workmen who dyed and wove it into cloth were on the other. When war broke out, and communication between the two shores was interrupted, great distress was occasioned in Flanders by the stoppage of the supply of English wool. On one occasion, when the export of wool from England was prohibited, the effect was to reduce the manufacturing population throughout the Low Countries to destitution and despair. “Then might be seen throughout Flanders,” says the local historian, “weavers, fullers, and others living by the woollen manufacture, either begging, or, driven by debt, tilling the soil.” At the same time, the English wool-growers lost the usual market for their produce. It naturally occurred to the English kings that it would be of great advantage to this country to have the wool made into cloth by the hands of their own people, instead of sending it abroad for the purpose. They accordingly held out invitations to the distressed Flemish artizans to come over and settle in England, where they would find abundant employment at remunerative wages; and as early as the reign of Edward III. a large number of Flemings came over and settled in London, Kent, Norfolk, Devon, Somerset, Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Westmoreland. The same policy was pursued by successive English kings, down to the reign of Henry VIII., who encouraged skilled artizans of a all kinds to settle in England — as armourers, cutlers, miners, brewers, and shipbuilders; the principal craftsmen employed by the court being Flemings and Germans. The immigration of foreign Protestants began in the reign of his successor Edward VI. The disturbed state of the Continent at that time had the effect of seriously interfering with the pursuits of industry; and in many of the German and Low Country towns, the working-classes were beginning to suffer from want of employment. The unemployed sought to remove to some foreign country less disturbed by party strife, in which they might find remunerative employment for their industry; while the men of The Religion longed for some secure asylum in which they might worstiip God according to conscience. John Bradford, the Englishman, writing to his friend Erkenwalde Rawlins, the Fleming, in 1554, advised him thus — “Go to, therefore, dispose your goods, prepare yourselves to trial, that either you may stand to it like God’s champions, or else, if you feel such infirmity in yourselves that you are not able, give place to violence, and go where you may with free and safe conscience serve the Lord.” There were indeed many who felt themselves wanting in the requisite strength to bear persecution, and who, accordingly, prepared to depart. Besides, the world was wide, and England was near at hand, ready to give them asylum. At first, the emigration was comparatively small; for it was a sore trial to many to break up old connections, to leave home, country, and relatives behind, and begin the world anew in a foreign land. Nevertheless, small bodies of emigrating Protestants at length began to move, dropping down the Rhine in boats, and passing over from the Dutch and Flemish ports into England. Others came from Flanders itself; though at first the immigration from that quarter, as well as from France, was of a very limited character. The foreigners were welcomed on their arrival in England, being generally regarded as a valuable addition to the skilled working classes of the country. Thus Latimer, when preaching before Edward VI., shrewdly observed of the foreigners persecuted for conscience’ sake — “I wish that we could collect together such valuable persons in this kingdom, as it would be the means of insuring its prosperity.” Very few years passed before Latimer’s wish was fully realised; and there was scarcely a town of any importance in England in which foreign artizans were not found settled and diligently pursuing their respective callings. The immigration of the Protestant Flemings in Edward VI.’s reign was already so considerable, that the King gave them the church in Austin Friars, Broad Street, “to have their service in, and for avoiding all sects of anabaptists and the like.” The influx continued at such a rate as to interfere with the employment of the native population, who occasionally showed a disposition to riot, and even to expel the foreigners by violence. In a letter written by Francis Peyto to the Earl of Warwick, then at Rome, the following passage occurs: — “Five or six hundred men waited upon the mayor and aldermen, complaining of the late influx of strangers, and that, by reason of the great dearth, they cannot live for these strangers, whom they were determined to kill up through the realm if they found no remedy. To pacify them, the mayor and aldermen caused an esteame to be made of all strangers in London, which showed an amount of forty thousand, besides women and children, for the most part heretics fled out of other countries.” 3 Although this estimate was probably a gross exaggeration, there can be no doubt that by this time a large number of the exiles had arrived and settled in London and other English towns. The influx of the persecuted Protestants, however, did not fully set in until about ten years later, about the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth. The fugitives, in the extremities to which they were reduced, naturally made for that part of the English coast which lay the nearest to Flanders and France. In 1561, a considerable body of Flemings landed near Deal, and subsequently settled at the then decayed town of Sandwich. The Queen was no sooner informed of their landing, than she wrote to the mayor, jurats, and commonalty of the burgh, enjoining them to give liberty to the foreigners to settle there and carry on their respective trades. She recommended the measure as calculated to greatly benefit the town by “plantynge in the same men of knowledge in sundry handycrafts,” in which they “were very skillful”; and her Majesty more particularly enjoined that the trades the foreign artizans were to carry on were “the makinge of says, bays, and other cloth, which hath not been used to be made in this our realme of Englonde.” Other landings of Flemings took place about the same time, at Harwich, at Yarmouth, at Dover, and other towns on the south-east coast. Some settled at the places where they had landed, and began to pursue their several branches of industry; whilst others proceeded to London, Norwich, Maidstone, Canterbury, and other inland towns, where the local authorities gave them protection and succor. The year after the arrival of the Flemings at Sandwich, the inhabitants of the little seaport of Rye, on the coast of Sussex, were thrown into a state of commotion by the sudden arrival of a number of destitute French people from the opposite coast. Some came in open boats, others in sailing-vessels. They were of all classes and conditions, and amongst them were many women and children. They had fled from their own country in great haste, and were nearly all alike destitute. Some crossed the Channel in midwinter, braving the stormiest weather; and when they reached the English shore they would often fall upon their knees and thank God for their deliverance. In May 1562, we find John Young, mayor of Rye, writing to Sir William Cecil, the Queen’s chief secretary, as follows: — “May it please your honor, there is daily great resort of Frenchmen here, insomuch as already there is esteemed to be 500 persons; and we be in great want of corn for their and our sustentation, by reason the country adjoining is barren… Also may it please your honor, after night and this day is come two shippis of Dieppe into this haven, full of many people.” It will be remembered that Rye is situated at the south-western extremity of the great Romney Marsh; and as no corn is grown in that neighborhood, the wheat consumed in the place was all brought thither by sea, or from a distance inland, over the then almost impassable roads of Sussex. The townspeople of Rye nevertheless bestirred themselves in aid of the poor refugees. They took them into their houses, fed them, and supplied their wants as well as they could; but the fugitives continued to arrive in such numbers that the provisions of the place soon began to run short. These landings continued during the summer of 1562; and even as late as November the mayor again wrote to Cecil: “May it please your honor to be advertised that the third day of the present month, at twelve of the clocke, there arrived a bote from Dieppe, with Frenchmen, women, and children, to the number of a hundred and firrye, there being a great number also which were here before.” And as late as the 10th of December, the French people still flying for refuge, though winter had already set in severely, the mayor again wrote that another boat had arrived with “many poor people, as well men and women as children, which were of Rouen and Dieppe.” Six years passed, and again, in 1568, we find another boat-load of fugitives from France landing at Rye: “Monsieur Gamayes, with his wife and children and ten strangers; and Captain Sowes, with his wife and two servants, who had all come out of France, as they said, for the safeguard of their lives.” Four years later, in 1572, there was a further influx of refugees at Rye, — the mayor again writing to Lord Burleigh, informing him that between the 27th of August and the 4th of November no fewer than had landed. The records have been preserved of the names and callings of most of the immigrants; from which it appears that they were of all ranks and conditions, including gentlemen, merchants, doctors of physic, ministers of religion, students, schoolmasters, tradesmen, mechanics, artizans, shipwrights, mariners, and laborers. Among the fugitives were also several widows, who had fled with their children across the sixty miles of sea which there divide France from England, sometimes by night in open boats, braving the fury of the winds and waves in their eagerness to escape. The mayor of Rye made appeals to the Queen for help, and especially for provisions, which from time to time ran short; and the help was at once given. Collections were made for the relief of the destitute refugees in many of the churches in England, as well as in Scotland; 6 and, among others, we find the refugee Flemings at Sandwich giving out of their slender means “a benefaction to the poor Frenchmen who have left their country for conscience’ sake.” The landings continued for many years. The people came flying from various parts of France and Flanders — cloth-makers from Antwerp and Bruges, lace-makers from Valenciennes, cambric-makers from Cambray, glass-makers from Paris, stuff-weavers from Meaux, merchants and tradesmen from Rouen, and shipwrights and mariners from Dieppe and Havre. As the fugitives continued to land, they were sent inland as speedily as possible, to make room for new-comers, — the household accommodation of the little towns along the English coast being but limited. From Rye, many proceeded to London to join their countrymen who had settled there; others went forward to Canterbury, to Southampton, to Norwich, and the other towns where Walloon congregations had already been established. A body of them settled at Winchelsea, an ancient town, formerly of much importance on the south coast, though now left high and dry inland. Many fugitives also landed at Dover, which was a convenient point for both France and Flanders. Some of the immigrants passed through to Canterbury and London, while others settled permanently in the place. Early in the seventeenth century, a census was taken of the foreigners residing in Dover, when it was found that there were seventy-eight persons “which of late came out of France by reason of the troubles there.” The description of them is interesting, as showing the classes to which the exiles principally belonged. There were two “preachers of God’s Word”; three physicians and surgeons; two advocates; two esquires; three merchants; two schoolmasters; thirteen drapers, grocers, brewers, butchers, and other trades; twelve mariners; eight weavers and wool-combers; twenty-five widows, “makers of bone-lace and spinners”; two maidens; one woman, designated as the wife of a shepherd; one button-maker; one gardener; and one undescribed male. 9 There were at the same time settled in Dover thirteen Walloon exiles, of whom five were merchants, three mariners, and the others of different trades. In the meantime, the body of Flemings who had first settled at Sandwich began to show signs of considerable prosperity. The local authorities had readily responded to the wishes of Queen Elizabeth, and did what she required. They appointed two markets to be held weekly for the sale of their cloths, in the making of which we very shortly find them busily occupied. When Archbishop Parker visited Sandwich, in 1563, he took notice of “the French and Dutche, or both,” who had settled in the town, and wrote to a friend at court that the refugees were as godly on the Sabbath-days as they were industrious on week-days; observing that such “profitable and gentle strangers ought to be welcome, and not to be grudged at.” Before the arrival of the Flemings, Sandwich had been a poor and decayed place. It was originally a town of considerable importance, and one of the Cinque Ports. But when the river Stour became choked with silt, the navigation, on which it had before depended, was so seriously impeded, that its trade soon fell into decay, and the inhabitants were reduced to great poverty.No sooner, however, had the first colony of Flemings, above four hundred in number, settled there under the Queen’s protection, than the empty houses were occupied, the town became instinct with new life, and was more than restored to its former importance. The artizans set up their looms, and began to work at the manufacture of sayes, bayes, and other kinds of cloth, which met with a-ready sale; the London merchants resorting to the bi-weekly markets, and buying up the goods at remunerative prices. The native population also shared in the general prosperity learning from the strangers the art of cloth-making, and becoming competitors with them for the trade. Indeed, before many years had passed, the townspeople, forgetful of the benefits they owed to the foreign artizans, became jealous, and sought to impose upon them special local taxes. On this the Flemings memorialised the Queen,11 who again stood their friend; and, on her intercession, the corporation were at length induced to believe them of the unjust burden. At that time they constituted about one-third of the entire population of the town; and when Elizabeth visited Sandwich in 1573, it is recorded that “against the school-house, upon the new tufted wall, and upon a scaffold made upon the wall of the school-house yard, were divers children, to the number of a hundred or six score, all spinning of fine bag yarn, a thing well liked both of Her Majesty and of the Nobility and Ladies.” The Protestant exiles at Sandwich did not, however, confine themselves to cloth-making, 13 but engaged in various other branches of industry. Some of them were millers, who erected the first windmills near the town, in which they plied their trade. Two potters from Delft began the pottery manufacture. Others were smiths, brewers, hat-makers, carpenters, or shipwrights. Thus trade and population increased; new buildings arose on all sides, until Sandwich became almost transformed into a Flemish town; and to this day, though fallen again into comparative decay, the quaint, foreign-looking aspect of the place never fails to strike the visitor with surprise. Among other branches of industry introduced by the Flemings at Sandwich, that of gardening is worthy of notice. The people of. Flanders had long been famous for their horticulture; and one of the first things which the foreign settlers did, on arriving in the place, was to turn to account the excellent qualities of the soil in the neighborhood. Though long before practiced by the monks, Gardening had become almost a lost art in England. It is said that Katherine, Queen of Henry VIII., unable to obtain a salad for her dinner in England, had her table supplied from the Low Countries. 14 The first Flemish gardens proved highly successful. The cabbage, carrots, and celery produced by the foreigners met with so ready a sale, and were so much in demand in London itself, that a body of gardeners shortly after removed from Sandwich and settled at Wandsworth, Battersea, and Bermondsey, where many of the rich gardengrounds first planted by the Flemings, still continue to be the most productive in the neighborhood of the metropolis. It is also supposed, though it cannot be exactly ascertained, that the Protestant Walloons introduced the cultivation of the hop in Kent, bringing slips of the plant with them from Artois. The old distich — “Hops, Reformation, Bays, and Beer, Came into England all in one year” — marks the period (about 1524) when the first English hops were planted. There is a plot of land at Bourne, near Canterbury, where there is known to have been a hop-plantation in the reign of Elizabeth. 15 Another kind of crop introduced by the Flemings at Sandwich was canary-grass, which still continues to be grown on the neighboring farms, and is indeed almost peculiar to the district. As might naturally be expected, by far the largest proportion of the Protestant exiles — Flemish and French — settled in London: — London, the world’s asylum — the refuge of the persecuted of all lands, whether for race, or politics, or religion — a city of Celts, Danes, and Saxons — of Jews, Germans, French, and Flemings, as well as of English, an aggregate of men of all European countries, and probably one of the most composite populations to be found in the world. Large numbers of French, Germans, and Flemings, of the industrious classes, had already taken refuge in London from the political troubles which had prevailed abroad. About the beginning of the reign of Henry VIII. so many foreigners had settled in the western parts of the metropolis, that “Tottenham is turned French” passed into a proverb; and now the religious persecutions which raged abroad, compelled foreigners of various nations to take refuge in London, in still greater numbers than they had done at any former period. Fortunately for London, as for England, the men who fled thither for refuge were not idle, dissolute, and ignorant; but peaceable, gentle, and laborious. Though they were poor, they were not pauperised, but thrifty and self-helping, and above all things eager in their desire to earn an honest living. They were among the most skilled and intelligent inhabitants of the countries which had driven them forth. Had they been weak men, they would have gone with the stream as others did, and conformed; but they were men with convictions, earnest for the truth, and ready to sacrifice their worldly goods and everything else to follow it. Of the Flemings and French who settled in London, the greater number congregated in special districts, for the convenience of carrying on their trades together. Thus a large number of the Flemings settled in Southwark and Bermondsey, 16 where they began many branches of industry which continue to this day — Southwark being still the principal manufacturing district of London. There was a quarter in Bermondsey, known as “The Borgeney,” or “Petty Burgundy,” because of the foreigners who inhabited it. Joiners’ Street, which still exists in name, lay in the district, and was so called because of its being almost wholly occupied by Flemish joiners, who were skilled in all kinds of carpentry. Another branch of trade begun by the Flemings in Bermondsey, was the manufacture of felts or hats. Tanneries and breweries were also started by them, and carried on with great success. Henry Leek, originally Hoek or Hook,17 from Wesel, was one of the principal brewers of his time, to whose philanthropic bequest Southwark owes the foundation of the excellent free school of St. Olave’s — one of the best of its class. Another important settlement of the Flemings was at Bow, where they established dye-works on a large scale. Before their time, white cloth of English manufacture was usually sent abroad to be dyed, after which it was reimported and sold as Flemish cloth. The best known among the early dyers, were Peter de Croix and Dr. Kepler, the latter of whom established the first dye-work in England; and cloth of “Bow dye” soon became famous. Another body of the refugees settled at Wandsworth, and began several branches of industry — such as the manufacture of felts, and the making of brass plates for culinary utensils — which, Aubrey says, they “kept a mystery.” One Fromantel introduced the manufacture of pendulum or Dutch clocks, which shortly came into use. At Mortlake, the French exiles began the manufacture of arras, and at Fulham of tapestry. The art of printing paperhangings was introduced by some artizans from Rouen, where it had been originally practiced; and many other skilled workers in metal settled in different parts of the metropolis — such as cutlers, jewellers, and makers of mathematical instruments, in which the French and Flemish workmen then greatly excelled. The employment given to the foreign artizans seems to have excited considerable discontent amongst the London tradesmen, who, from time to time, beseeched the interference of the corporations and of Parliament. thus, in 1576, we find the London shoemakers petitioning for a commission.of inquiry as to the alien shoemakers who were carrying on their trade in the metropolis. In 1586, the London apprentices raised riot in the city against the foreigners; and several youths of the Plaisterers’ Company were apprehended and committed to Newgate by order of the Queen and council. A few years later, in 1592, the London free-men and shopkeepers complained to Parliament that the strangers were spoiling their trades; and a bill was brought in for the purpose of restraining them. The bill was strongly supported by Sir Walter Raleigh, who complained bitterly of the strangers; but it was opposed by Cecil and the Queen’s ministers; and though it passed the Commons, it failed through the dissolution of Parliament — so that the refugees were left to the enjoyment of their former protection and hospitality. Many of the foreigners established themselves as merchants in the city, and soon became known as leading men in commercial affairs. Several of them had already been distinguished as merchants in their own country; and they brought with them a spirit and enterprise which infused quite a new life into London business. Among the leading foreign merchants of Elizabeth’s time we recognize the names of Houblon, Palavicino, De Malines, Corsellis, Van Peine, Tryan, Buskell, Corsini, De Best, and Cotett. That they prospered by the exercise of their respective callings, may be inferred from the fact that when, in 1588, Queen Elizabeth proceeded to raise a loan in the city by voluntary subscriptions, thirty- eight of the foreign merchants subscribed 5,000 pounds, in sums of pounds and upwards. The accounts given of the numbers of the exiles from Flanders and France who settled in London, are very imperfect; yet they enable us to form some idea of the extensive character of the immigration. Thus, a return of the population, made in 1571, the year before the massacre of St. Bartholomew, shows that in the city of London alone (exclusive of the large number of strangers settled in Southwark, at Bow, and outside the liberties) there were, of foreigners belonging to the English church, 889; to the Dutch, French, and Italian churches, 1,763; certified by their elders, but not presented by the wards, 1,828; not yet joined to any particular church, 2,663; “strangers that do confesse themselves that their comyng herher was onlie to seek worck for their lyvinge,” 2561; or a total of 9,704 persons. 19 From another return of about the same date, in which the numbers are differently given, we obtain some idea of the respective nationalities of the refugees. Out of the 4,594 strangers then returned as resident in the city of London, 3,643 are described as Dutch (i.e . Flemings); 657 French; 233 Italians; and 53 Spaniards and Portuguese. That the foreign artizans continued to resort to England in increasing numbers is apparent from a further census taken in 1621, from which it appears that there were then 10,000 strangers in the city of London alone (besides still larger numbers in the suburbs), carrying on 121 different trades. Of 1,343 persons whose occupations are specified, there were found to be 11 preachers,16 schoolmasters, 349 weavers, 183 merchants, 148 tailors, 64 sleeve-makers, 43 shoemakers, 39 dyers, 37 brewers, jewellers, 25 diamond-cutters, 22 cutlers, 20 goldsmiths, 20 joiners, clockmakers, 12 silk-throwsters, 10 glass-makers, besides hemp-dressers, thread-makers, button-makers, coopers, engravers, gunmakers, painters, smiths, watchmakers, and other skilled craftsmen. Numerous other settlements of the refugees took place throughout England, more particularly in the southern counties. “The foreign manufacturers,” says Hasted, “chose their situations with great judgment, distributing themselves with the Queen’s licence throughout England, so as not to interfere too much with each other.” 22 One of the most important of such settlements was that formed at Norwich, where the Refugees founded and carried on many important branches of trade. Although Norwich had been originally indebted mainly to foreign artizans for its commercial and manufacturing importance, the natives of the city were among the first to turn upon their benefactors. The local guilds, in their usual narrow spirit, passed stringent regulations directed against the foreign artizans who had originally taught them their trade. The jealousy of the native workmen was also roused, and riots were stirred up against the Flemings, many of whom left Norwich for Leeds and Wakefield in Yorkshire, where they prosecuted the woollen manufacture free from the restrictions of the trades-unions, whilst others left the country for Holland, to carry on their trades in the free towns of that country. The consequence was that Norwich, left to its native enterprise and industry, gradually fell into a state of stagnation and decay. Its population rapidly diminished; a large proportion of the houses stood empty; riots among the distressed workpeople were of frequent occurrence; and it was even mooted in Parliament whether the place should not be razed. Under such circumstances, the corporation determined to call to their aid the skill and industry of the exiled Protestant artizans now flocking into the country: In the year 1564, a deputation of the citizens, headed by the mayor, waited on the Duke of Norfolk at his palace in the city, and asked his assistance in obtaining a settlement in the place of a body of Flemish workmen. The Duke used his influence with this object, and he shortly succeeded in inducing some 300 Dutch and Walloon families to settle in Norwich at his charge, and to carry on their trades under a licence granted by the Queen. The exiles were very shortly enabled, not only to maintain themselves by their industry, but to restore the city to more than its former prosperity. The houses which had been standing empty were again tenanted, the native population again became fully employed, and the adjoining districts shared in the general prosperity. In the course of a few years, 3,000 foreign workmen were found settled in the city, and many entirely new branches of trade were introduced and successfully carried on by them. Besides the manufacture of sayes, bayes, serges, arras, mouchade, and bombazines, they introduced the striping and flowering of silks and damasks, which shortly became one of the principal branches of trade in the place. The manufacture of beaver and felt hats, before impored from abroad, was also successfully established in Norwich. One Anthony Solen introduced the art of printing, for which he was awarded the freedom of the city. Two potters from Antwerp, Jasper Andries and Jacob Janson, started a pottery, though in a very humble way. 24 Other Flemings introduced the art of gardening in the neighborhood, and culinary stuffs became more plentiful in Norwich than in any other town or city in England. The general result was — abundant employment, remunerative trade, cheap food, and great prosperity; Bishop Parkhurst declaring his persuasion that “these blessings from God have happened by reason of the godly exiles who were so kindly harbored there.” But not so very kindly after all. As before, the sour native heart grew jealous; and notwithstanding the admitted prosperity of the place, the local population began to mutter discontent against the foreigners, who had been mainly its cause Like Jeshurun, the natives waxed fat and kicked. It is true, the numbers of Dutch, French, and Walloons in Norwich had become very considerable, by reason of the continuance of the persecutions abroad, which drove them across the Channel in increasing numbers. But who so likely to give them succor and shelter as their own countrymen, maintaining themselves by the exercise of their skill and industry in the towns of England? The hostile movement against the foreign artizans is even said to have been encouraged by some of the gentlemen of the neighborhood, who in set on foot a conspiracy, with the object of expelling them by force from the city and realm. But the conspiracy was discovered in time. Its leader and instigator, John Throgmorton, was seized and executed, with two others; and the strangers were thenceforward permitted to pursue their respective callings in peace. Whatever may have been the shortcomings of Elizabeth in other respects, she certainly proved herself the steadfast friend and protector of the Protestant exiles. Her conduct with reference to the Norwich conspiracy clearly shows the spirit which influenced her. In a letter written by her from the palace at Greenwich, dated the 19th March 1570, she strongly expostulated with the citizens of Norwich respecting the jealousy entertained by them against the authors of their prosperity. She reminded them of the advantages they had derived from the settlement amongst them of so many skilled artizans, who inhabited the houses which had before stood desolate, and were furnishing employment to large numbers of persons who must otherwise have remained unemployed. She therefore entreated and enjoined them to continue their favors “to the poor men of the Dutch nation, who, seeing the persecution lately begun in their country for the trewe religion, hath fledd into this realm for succor, and be now placed in the city of Norwich, and hath hitherto been favourablye and jintely ordered, which the Queen’s Majestie, as a mercifull and religious Prince, doth take in very good part, praeing you to continue your favor unto them so long as they shall lyve emongste you quyetlye and obedyently to God’s trewe religion, and to Her Majesty’s lawes, for so one chrystian man (in charitie) is bound to help another; especially them who do suffre affixion For the gospelle’s sake.” A census was shortly after taken of the foreigners settled in Norwich, when it was ascertained that they amounted to about 4,000, including women and children; and that they were effectually protected in the exercise of their respective callings, and continued to prosper, may be inferred from the circumstance that, when the numbers were again taken, about ten years later, it was found that the foreign community had increased to 4,679 persons. It would occupy too much space to enter into a detailed account of the settlement of the industrious strangers throughout the country, and to describe the various branches of manufacture which they introduced, in addition to those already described. “The persecution for religion in Brabant and Flanders,” says Hasted, “communicated to all the Protestant parts of Europe the paper, woollen, and other valuable manufactures of Flanders and France, almost peculiar at that time to these countries, and till then in vain practiced elsewhere.” Although the manufacture of cloth had already made some progress in England, only the coarser sorts were produced, the best being imported from abroad; and it was not until the settlement among us of the Flemish weavers that this branch of industry became one of national importance. They spread themselves through the towns and villages in the west of England, as well as throughout the north, and wherever the woollen weavers set up their looms they carried on a prosperous trade. 27 Among other places in the west they settled at Worcester, Evesham, Droitwich, Kidderminster, Stroud, and Glastonbury. 28 In the east they settled at Colchester, Hertford, Stamford, and other places. Colchester became exceedingly prosperous in consequence of the settlement of the Flemish artizans there. In 1609 it contained as many as 1,300 Walloons and other persons of foreign parentage; and every house was occupied. In the north we find them establishing themselves at Manchester, Bolton, and Halifax, where they made “coatings”; 29 and at Kendal, where they made cloth caps and woolien stockings. The native population gradually learned to practise the same branches of manufacture; new sources of employment were opened up to them; and in the course of a few years, England, instead of depending upon foreigners for its supply of cloth, was not only able to produce sufficient for its own use, but to export the article in considerable quantities abroad. Other Flemings introduced the art of thread and lace making. A body of them who settled at Maidstone, in 1567, carried on the thread manufacture — flax spun for the threadman, being still known there as “Dutch work.” Some lace-makers from Alencon and Valenciennes settled at Cranfield, in Bedfordshire, in 1568; after which others settled at Buckingham, Stoney- Stratford, and Newport-Pagnel, from whence the manufacture gradually extended over the shires of Oxford, Northampton, and Cambridge. About the same time the manufacture of bone-lace, with thread obtained from Antwerp, was introduced into Devonshire by the Flemish exiles, who settled in considerable numbers at Honiton, Colyton, and other places, where the trade continued to be carried on by their descendants atmost to our own time — the Flemish and French names of Stocker, Murch, Spiller, Genest, Maynard, Gerard, Raymunds, Rochett, Kettel, etc., being still common in the lace-towns of the west. Besides these various branches of textile manufacture, the immigrants applied themselves to mining, working in metals, salt-making, fish-curing, and other arts, in which they were much better skilled than the English then were. Thus, we find a body of them from the neighborhood of Liege establishing themselves at Shotley Bridge, in the neighborhood of Newcastle-on-Tyne, where they introduced the making of steel, and became celebrated for the swords and edge-tools which they manufactured. The names of the settlers, some of which have been preserved — Ole, Mohl, Vooz, etc. — indicate their origin; and some of their descendants are still to be found residing in the village, under the names of Oley, Mole, and such like. Another body of Flemings established a glasswork at Newcastle-on-Tyne, where the manufacture still continues to flourish. Two Flemings, Anthony Been and John Care, erected premises for making window-glass in London in 1567, and the manufacture was continued by their two fellowcountrymen, Brut and Appell. At that time, glass was so precious that when the Duke of Northumberland left Alnwick Castle, the steward was accustomed to take out the glazed windows, and stow them away until his Grace’s return; and even in the middle of the following century glass had not been generally introduced, the royal palaces of Scotland being glazed only in their upper windows, the lower ones being provided with wooden shutters. Manufactories for the better kinds of glass were in like manner established in London by Venetians, assisted by Flemish and French refugee workmen. One of them was carried on at Greenwich, and another at Pinner’s Hall in Austin Friars. The Flemings especially excelled in glasspainting, — one of them, Bernard van Linge,who was established in London in 1614, being the first to practice the art in England. It was this artist who supplied the windows for Wadham College, the fine window of Lincoln’s Inn Chapel, and several subjects for Lincoln College Chapel. Flemish workers in iron and steel settled at Sheffield under the protection of the Earl of Shrewsbury, on condition that they should take English apprentices and instruct them in their trade. What the skill of the Low Country iron-workers then was, may be understood by any one who has seen the beautiful specimens of ancient iron-work to be met with in Belgium — as, for instance, the exquisite iron canopy over the draw-well in front of the cathedral at Antwerp, or the still more elaborate iron gates enclosing the little chapels behind the high altar of the cathedral of St. Bavon, at Ghent. Only the Nurembergers, in all Germany, could vie with the Flemings in such kind of work. The effects of the instruction given by the Flemish artizans to their Sheffield apprentices were soon felt in the impulse which the improvement of their manufactures gave to the trade of the town; and Sheffield acquired a reputation for its productions in steel and iron which it retains to this day. A body of refugees of the seafaring class established themselves, with the Queen’s licence, at Yarmouth in 1568, and there carried on the business of fishing with great success. Before then, the fish along the English coasts were mostly caught by the Dutch, who cured them in Holland, and brought them back for sale in the English markets. But shortly after the establishment of the fishery at Yarmouth by the Flemings, the home demand was almost entirely supplied by their industry. They also introduced the arts of salt-making and herring,curing, originally a Flemish invention; and the trade gradually extended to other places, and furnished employment to a large number of persons. By the enterprise chiefly of the Flemish merchants settled in London, a scheme was set on foot for the reclamation of the drowned lands in Hatfield Chase and the great level of the Fens; 31 when a large number of laborers assembled under Cornelius Vermuyden to execute the necessary works. They were, however, a very different class of men from the modern “navvies”; for wherever they went, they formed themselves into congregations, erected churches, and appointed ministers to conduct their worship. Upwards of two hundred Flemish families settled on the land reclaimed by them in the Isle of Axholm; the ships which brought he immigrants up the Humber to their new homes being facetiously hailed as “the navy of Tarshish.” The reclaimers afterwards prosecuted their labors, under Vermuyden, in the great level of the Fens, where they were instrumental in recovering a large extent of drowned land, before then a mere watery waste, but now among the richest and most fertile soil in England. A few of the exiles found an asylum in Scotland; though that country was then too poor to hold out much encouragement to the banished artizans. Of those who arrived in Edinburgh, due care was taken for their maintenance and support. Collections were made in the churches, and a place was provided for their worship. It appears from the City records that, in May 1586, the magistrates granted the use of the University Hall for that purpose; and that at the same time they agreed to pay a stipend to Pierre du Moulin, the pastor of the refugees. Several years later, an attempt was made to introduce into Scotland the manufacture of cloth. In 1601, seven Flemings were engaged to settle in the country, and set the work a-going, — six of them for serges, and one for broadcloth. But disputes arose amongst the boroughs as to the towns in which the settlers were to be located, during which the strangers were “entertained in meat and drink.” 32 At length, in 1609, a body of Flemings became settled in the Canongate of Edinburgh, under one Joan Van Hedan, where they were engaged in “making, dressing, and lifting of stuffis, giving great licht and knowledge of their calling to the country people.” An attempt was also made to introduce the manufacture of paper into Scotland about the middle of the seventeenth century, when French workmen were introduced for the instruction of the natives. The first mill was erected at Dairy, on the Water of Leith; but though the manufacturers succeeded in making grey and blue paper, the speculation does not seem to have answered, — as we find Alexander Daes, one of the principal proprietors, shortly after occupied in showing an elephant about the country! — the first animal of the kind that had been seen north of the Tweed. Besides the settlements of the foreigners in England, others passed into Ireland, and settled in Dublin, Waterford, Limerick, Belfast, and other towns. Sir Henry Sidney, in the “Memoir of his Government Ireland,” written in 1590, thus speaks of the little colony of refugees settled at Swords, near Dublin: — “I caused to plant and inhabit there about fourtie families of the Reformed Churches of the Low Countries, flying thence for religion’s sake, in one ruinous town called Swords; and truly, sir, it would have me any man good to have seen how diligently they wrought, how they re-edified the quite spoiled ould castell of the same town, and repayred almost all the same, and how godlie and cleanly they, their wiefs, and children lived. They made diaper and tickes for beddes, and other good stuffes for man’s use; and as excellent leather of deer skynnes, goat and sheep fells, as is made in Southwarke.” In short, wherever the refugees took up their abode, they acted as so many missionaries of skilled work, — exhibiting the best practical examples of diligence, industry, and thrift, — and teaching the people amongst whom they settled, in the most effective manner, the beginnings of those various industrial arts by which they have since acquired so much distinction and wealth. CHAPTER - THE EARLY WALLOON AND FRENCH CHURCHES IN ENGLAND. THE chief object which the foreign Protestants had in view in flying for refuge into England, was not, however, so much to follow industry as to be free to worship God according to conscience. For that they had sacrificed all, — possessions, home, and country. Accordingly, no sooner did they settle in any place, than they formed themselves into congregations for the purpose of worshipping together. While their numbers were small, they were content to meet in each other’s houses, or in workshops or other roomy places; but, as the influx of refugees increased with the increase of persecution abroad, and as many pastors of eminence came with them, the strangers besought the government to grant them places for holding their worship in public. This was willingly conceded; and as early as the reign of Edward VI. churches were set apart for their use in London, Norwich, Southampton, and Canterbury. The first Walloon and French churches in London owed their origin to the young King Edward VI., and to the protection of the Duke of Somerset and Archbishop Cranmer. On the 24th of July 1550, the King issued royal letters patent, appointing John A’Lasco, a learned Polish gentleman, superintendent of the refugee Protestant churches in England; and at the same time he assigned to such of the strangers as had settled in London the church in Austin Friars called the Temple of Jesus, wherein to hold their assemblies and celebrate their worship according to the custom of their country. Of this church Walter Deloen and ,Martin Flanders, Francois de la Riviere, and Richard Francois, were appointed the first ministers; the two former, of the Dutch or Flemish part of the congregation, and the two latter, of the French. The King further constituted the superintendent and the ministers into a body politic, and placed them under the safe. guard of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of the kingdom. But the number of refugees settled in London shortly became so great, that one church was found insufficient for their accommodation, although the Dutch and French met at alternate times during the day. In the course of a few months, therefore, a second place of worship was granted to the French-speaking section of the refugees; and the church of St. Anthony’s Hospital, in Threadneedle Street, was set apart for their use. Walloon and French congregations were also formed in various country places. The first of the Walloon churches out of London was that of Glastonbury, where a body of Flemish Protestants settled as early as the year 1550, under the protection of Archbishop Cranmer, the Duke of Somerset, and Sir William Cecil. They brought with them a well-known preacher, Valaren Pullen, and at once constituted themselves as a church. The Duke of Somerset advanced them money to buy wool, at the same time granting them small allotments of land from the Abbey domain. After the fall of the Duke, the weavers were taken under the protection of the Privy Council, and many papers relating to them are to be found in the State Paper Office; but when Mary succeeded to the throne, the little colony was broken up, and, accompanied by their pastor Pullen, they returned to the Continent, and eventually settled at Frankfort-on-the- Maine. Another of the early Walloon churches was that of Winchelsea, formed in 1560; but it was of comparatively less importance than the others, inasmuch as, — the town being poor and decaying, — most of the refugees, shortly after landing there, proceeded inland to London, Canterbury, or the other places where settlements had already been formed. The Dutch church at Dover long continued to thrive, being fed by increasing immigrants from the opposite coast, until at length it became known as the French Church. At Sandwich the old church of St. Peter’s was set apart for the special use of the refugees; but, at the same time, they were enjoined not to dispute openly concerning their religion. 3 At Rye they were allowed the use of the parish church during one part of the day, until a special place of worship could be provided for their accommodation. The Waloon church at Yarmouth was founded in 1568, and its members were mostly fishermen. Queen Elizabeth granted them a license to carry on their trade and to form a congregation; and they held their public worship in the building which had originally been the mansion of Thomas de Drayton, representative of the town in the time of Edward III. At Norwich, where the number of the settlers was greater in proportion to the population than in most other towns, the choir of Friars Preachers Church, on the east side of St. Andrew’s Hall, was assigned for the use of the Dutch, and the Bishop’s Chapel, afterwards the church of St. Mary’s Tombland, was appropriated for the use of the French and Walloons. Two of the most ancient and interesting of the churches founded by the refugees, are those of Southampton and Canterbury, both of which survive to this day. Southampton was resorted to at an early period by fugitives from religious persecution in Flanders and France. Many came from the Channel Islands, where they had first fled for refuge, on account of the proximity of these places to the French coast. This appears from the register of the Southampton church, — a document of great interest, preserved amongst the records of the Registrar-General at Somerset House. It is stated in Falle’s History of Jersey , that forty-two Protestant ministers of religion, besides a large number of lay families, passed over from France into Jersey in the reign of Elizabeth, — many of them before the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. And although the refugees for the most part regarded the Channel Islands as merely temporary places of refuge, — or as a sort of stepping-stone to England, — a sufficient number remained to determine the Protestant character of the community, and to completely transform the islands by their industry; since which time, Jersey and Guernsey, from being among the most backward and miserable places on the face of the earth, have come to be recognised as among the most happy and prosperous. The first French church at Southampton, whieh was so largely fed by arrivals from the Channel Islands, was, like the two earliest foreign Protestant churches in London, established in the reign of Edward VI. An old chapel in Winkle Street, near the harbor, called Domus Dei, or “God’s House,” forming part of an ancient hospital founded by two merchants in the time of Henry III., was set apart for the accommodation of the refugees. The hospital and chapel had originally been dedicated to St. Julian, the patron of travelers, and was probably used in ancient times by pilgrims passing through Southampton to and from the adjoining monastic establishments of Netley and Beaulieu, and the famous shrines of Winchester, Wells, and Salisbury. There are no records of this early French church beyond what can be gathered from their Register, 4 — which, however, is remarkably complete and well preserved, and presents many points of curious interest. The first entries are dated 1567, when the register began to be kept. From the first list of communicants entered in that year, it appears that their number was then only fifty-eight, of whom eight were distinguished as “Anglois.” The callings of the members were various, medical men being comparatively numerous; whilst others are described as weavers, bakers, cutlers, and brewers. The places from which the refugees had come are also given — those must frequently occurring being Valenciennes, Lisle, Dieppe, Gernese (Guernsey), nd Jerse. It further appears from the entries, that satisfactory evidence was required of the character and religious banding of the new refugees, who from time to time arrived from abroad, before they were admitted to the privileges of membership; the words “avec attestation,” temoinage par ecrit,” or simply “temoinage,” being attached to a large number of names. Many of the fugitives, before they succeeded in making their escape, appear to have been forced to attend Mass; and their first care on landing seems to have been, to seek out the nearest pastor, confess their sin, and take the sacrament according to the rights of their Church. On the 3rd of July (more than a year after the massacre of St. Bartholomew) occurs this entry — “Tiebaut de Befroi, his wife, his son, and his daughter, after having made their public acknowledgment of having been at the mass, were all received to the sacrament.” One of the most interesting portions of the register is the record of fasts and thanksgivings held at “God’s House”; in the course of which we see the poor refugees anxiously watching the current of events abroad, deploring the increasing ferocity of their persecutors, praying God to bridle the strong and wicked men who sought to destroy His Church, and to give the help of His outstretched arm to its true followers and defenders. The first of such fasts (Jeusnes) relates to the persecutions in the Netherlands by the Duke of Alva. It runs as follows: — “The year 1568, the 3rd day of September, was celebrated a public fast; the occasion was that Monseignor the Prince of Orange had descended from Germany into the Low Countries, to try with God’s help to deliver the poor churches here from affliction; and now to beseech the Lord host fervently for the deliverance of His people, this fast was celebrated.” Another fast was held in 1570, on the occasion of the defeat of the Prince of Conde at the battle of Jarnac, when the little church of Southampton again beseeched help for their brethren against the calamities which threatened to overwhelm them. Two years later, on the 25th of September 1572, we find them again entreating help for the Prince of Orange, who had entered the Low Countries from Germany with a new army, to deliver the poor churches there from the hands of the Duke of Alva, “that cruel tyrant; and also, principally, for that the churches of France have suffered a marvellous and extremely horrible calamity — a horrible massacre having been perpetrated at Paris on the 24th day of August last, in which a great number of nobles and of the faithful were killed in one night, about twelve or thirteen thousand; preaching forbidden; and all the property of the faithful given up to pillage throughout the kingdom. Now for the consolation of them and of the Low Countries, and to pray the Lord for their deliverance, was celebrated this solemn fast.” Other fasts were held, to pray God to maintain her Majesty the Queen in good friendship and accord with the Prince of Orange, 5 to uphold the Protestant churches in France, to stay the ravages of the plague, to comfort and succour the poor people of Antwerp, driven out of that city on its destruction by the Spaniards, 6 and to help and strengthen the churches of the refuge established in England. Several of these fasts were appointed to be held by the conference (colloque) of the churches, the meetings of which were held annually in London, Canterbury, Norwich, Southampton, and other places; so that at the same time the same fast was being held in all the foreign churches throughout the kingdom. In one case the shock of an earthquake is recorded. The entry runs as follows: — “The 28th of April, 1580, a fast was celebrated to pray God to preserve us against His anger, since on the 6th of this month we have been appalled by a great trembling of the earth. which has not only been felt throughout all this kingdom, but also in Picardy and the Low Countries of Flanders; as well as to preserve us against war and plague, and to protect the poor churches of Flanders and France against the assaults of their enemies, who have joined their forces to the great army of Spain for the purpose of working their destruction.” Another fast commemorates the appearance of a comet, which was first seen on the 8th of October, and continued in sight until the 12th of December in the year 1581. A subsequent entry relates to the defeat of the great Spanish Armada. On this occasion the little church united in public thanksgiving. The record is as follows: — “The 29th of November, 1588, thanks were publicly rendered to God for the wonderful dispersion of the Spanish fleet, which had descended upon the coast of England with the object of conquering the kingdom and bringing it under the tyranny of the Pope.” And, on the 5th of December following, another public fast was held, for the purpose of praying the Lord that He would be pleased to grant to the churches of France and of Flanders a like happy deliverance as had been vouchsafed to England. A blessing was also sought upon the English navy, which had put to flight the Armada of Spain. In the midst of these events, Queen Elizabeth visited Southampton with her court; on which occasion the refugees sought to obtain access to her Majesty, to thank her for the favor and protection which they had enjoyed at her hands. They were unable to obtain an interview with the Queen, until she had set out on her way homeward, when a deputation of the refugees waited for her outside the town and craved a brief interview. This she graciously accorded, when their spokesman thanked her for the tranquillity and rest which they had enjoyed during the twenty-four years that they had lived in the town; to which the Queen replied very kindly, giving praise to God who had given her the opportunity and the power of welcoming and encouraging the poor foreigners. A considerable proportion of the fasts relate to the plague, which was a frequent and unwelcome visitor — on one occasion sweeping away almost the entire settlement. In 1583, the communicants were reduced to a very small number; but those who remained met daily at “God’s House” ‘to pray for the abatement of the pestilence. It returned again in 1604, and again swept away a large proportion of the congregation, which had considerably increased in the interval. One hundred and sixty-one persons are set down as having died of plague in that year, the number of deaths amounting to four and five a-day. The greater number of the inhabitants of Southampton abandoned their dwellings, and the clergy seem to have accompanied them; for on the 23rd of July, 1665, an English child was brought to the French church to be baptized, by authority of the mayor, and the ceremony was performed by M. Courand, the pastor. Shortly after, M. Courand died at his post, after registering with his own hand the deaths of the greater part of his flock. On the 21st of September, 1665, the familiar handwriting of the pastor ceases, and the entry is made by another hand, “Monsieur Courand, notre pasteur — peste .” While death was thus busy, marrying and giving in marriage went on. Some couples were so impatient to be united that they could not wait for the return of the English clergy, who had left the town, but hastened to be married by the French pastor at “God’s House,” as we find from the register. Another highly-interesting memorial of the asylum given to the persecuted Protestants of Flanders and France so many centuries ago, is presented by the Walloon or French church which exists to this day in Canterbury Cathedral. It was formed at a very early period — some suppose as early as the reign of Edward VI., like those of London and Southampton; though the first record preserved of its existence is early in the reigm of Elizabeth. Shortly after the landings of the foreign Protestants at Sandwich and Rye, a body of them proceeded to Canterbury, and sought permission of the mayor and aldermen to settle in the place. They came principally from Lisle, Nuelle, Turcoing, Waterloo, Darmentieres, and other places situated along the present French frontier. The first arrivals of the fugitives consisted of eighteen families, led by their pastor, Hector Hamon, “minister verbi Del.” They are described as having landed at Rye, and temporarily settled at Winchelsea, from which place they had come across the country to Canterbury. Persecution had made these poor exiles very humble. All that they sought was freedom to worship and to labor. They had no thought but to pursue their several callings in peace and quiet — to bring up their children virtuously — and to lead a diligent, sober, and religious life, according to the dictates of their conscience. Men such as these are the salt of the earth at all times; yet they had been forced by a ruthless persecution from their homes, and driven forth as wanderers on the face of the earth. In their memorial to the mayor and aldermen, in 1564, they set forth that they had, for the love of religion (which they earnestly desired to hold fast with a free conscience), relinquished their country and their worldly goods; and they humbly prayed that they might be permitted the free exercise of their religion within the city, and allowed the privilege of a temple to hold their worship in, together with a place of sepulture for their dead. They further requested that lest, under the guise of religion, profane and evilminded men should seek to share in the privileges which they sought to obtain, none should be permitted to join them without giving satisfactory evidences of their probity of character. And, in order that the young persons belonging to their body might not remain untaught, they also asked permission to maintain a teacher, for the purpose of instructing them in the French tongue. Finally, they declared their intention of being industrious citizens, and of proceeding, under the favor and protection of the magistrates, to make Florence serges, bombazine, Orleans silk, bayes, mou-quade, and other stuffs, Canterbury was fortunate in being appealed to by these fugitives for an asylum — bringing, with them as they did, skill, industry, and character. The authorities at once cheerfully granted all that they asked, in the terms of their own memorial The mayor and aldermen gave them permission to carry on their trades within the precincts of the city. At the same time, the liberal-minded Matthew Parker, then Archbishop of Canterbury, with the sanction of the Queen, granted to the exiles the free use of the Under Croft of the cathedral, where “the gentle and profitable strangers,” as the Archbishop styled them, not only celebrated their worship and taught their children, but set up their looms and carried on their industry. The Under Croft, or Crypt, extends under the choir and high altar of Canterbury Cathedral, and is of considerable extent. The body of Thomas a Becket was buried first in the Under Croft, and lay there for fifty years, until it was translated with great ceremony to the sumptuous shrine prepared by Stephen Langton, his successor, at the east end of the cathedral. Part of the Under Croft, immediately under the cross aisle of the choir, was dedicated and endowed as a chapel by Edward the Black Prince; and another part of the area was enclosed by rich Gothic stone-work, and dedicated to the Virgin. The Lady Undercroft Chapel was one of the most gorgeous shrines of its time. It was so rich and of such high esteem, that Somner says, “The sight of it was debarred to the vulgar, and reserved only for persons of great quality.” Erasmus, who by special favor (Archbishop Warham recommending him) was brought to the sight of it, describes it thus: — “There” said he, the Virgin-mother hath a habitation, but somewhat dark, inclosed with a double sept or rail of iron, for fear of thieves. For indeed I never saw a thing more laden with riches. Lights being brought, we saw a more than royal spectacle. In beauty it far surpasseth that of Walsingham. This chapel is not showed but to noblemen and especial friends.” 9 Over the statue of the Virgin, which was in pure gold, there was a royal purple canopy, starred with jewels and precious stones; and a row of silver lamps was suspended from the roof in front of the shrine. All these decorations were, however, removed by Henry VIII., who took possession of the greater part f the gold and silver jewels of the cathedral, and had them converted into money. The Under Croft became deserted; the chapels it contained were disused; and it remained merely a large, vaulted, ill-lighted area, until permission was granted to the Walloons to use it by turns as a weaving-shed, a school, and a church. Over the capitals of the columns on the north side of the crypt are several texts of Scripture taken from the Psalms, the Proverbs, and the New Testament, — still to be seen in old French, written up for the benefit of the scholars, and doubtless taught to them by heart. Desolate, gloomy, and sepulchral though the place might seem — with the ashes of former archbishops and dignitaries of the cathedral mouldering under their feet, — the exiles were thankful for the refuge it afforded them in their time of need, and they daily made the vaults resound with their prayer and praise. Morning and night they “sang the Lord’s song in a strange land, and wept when they remembered Zion.” The refugees worked, worshipped, and prospered. They succeeded in maintaining themselves; they supported their own poor; and they were able, out of their small means, to extend a helping hand to the fugitives who continued to arrive in England, still fleeing from the persecutions in Flanders and France. Every corner of the Under Croft was occupied; and so many fresh immigrants continued to join them, that the place was soon found too small for their accommodation. Somner, writing in 1639, thus refers to the exiles: — “Let me now lead you to the Under Croft — a place fit, and haply (as one cause) fitted to keep in memory the subterraneous temples of the primitives, in the times of persecution. The west part whereof, being spacious and lightsome, for many years hath been the strangers’ church: a congregation for the most part of distressed exiles, grown so great, and yet daily multiplying, that the place in short time is likely to prove a hive too little to contain such a swarm.” The Huguenot exiles remained unmolested in the exercise of their worship until the advent of Charles I. as King of England, and of Laud as Archbishop of Canterbury. An attempt was then made to compel the refugees, who were for the most part Calvinists, to conform to the Anglican ritual. The foreign congregations appealed to the King, pleading the hospitality trended to them by the nation when they had fled from Papal persecution abroad, and the privileges and exemptions granted to them by Edward VI., which had been confirmed by Elizabeth and James, and even by Charles I. himself. The utmost concession that the King would grant was, that those who were born aliens might still enjoy the use of their own church service; but that all their children born in England should regularly attend the parish churches. Even this small concession was limited only to the congregation at Canterbury, and measures were taken to enforce conformity in the other dioceses. The refugees thus found themselves exposed to an Anglican persecution, instead of a Papal one. Rather than endure it, several thousands of them left the country, abandoning their new homes, and again risking the loss of everything, in preference to giving up their views as to religion. About a hundred and forty families emigrated from Norwich into Holland, where the Dutch received them hospitably, and gave them house-accommodation free, with exemption from taxes for seven years, during which they instructed the natives in the woollen manufacture, of which they had before been ignorant. But the greater number of the exiles emigrated with their families to North America, and swelled the numbers of the little colony already formed in Massachusetts Bay, which eventually laid the foundation of the New England States. After the lapse of a few years, the reactionary course upon which Charles I. and Archbishop Laud had entered, was summarily checked. The foreign refugees vere again permitted to worship God according to conscience, and the right of free asylum in England was again recognised and established. CHAPTER - THE EDICT OF NANTES. — COLBERT AND LOUIS XIV THE immigrations of foreign Protestants into England in a great measure ceased towards the end of the sixteenth century. In Flanders, the Protestants had for the most part been killed or expatriated, and their persecutors were left to enjoy their triumph amidst ruins. France also experienced a period of temporary repose. The ferocious wars of the League had been terminated by the accession of Henry of Navarre, the Huguenot leader, to the French crown, — on which both parties laid down their arms for a time. Nothing seemed to be wanting to secure the permanent unity and peace of the kingdom but the acceptance by the King of the religion of the majority; and to accomplish this great object, Henry conformed, or pretended to conform, — making his public abjuration of the Protestant faith in the church of St. Denis, on the 25th of July 1593. In that age of assassination, Henry was probably influenced by the consideration that, unless he made his peace with the Romish Church, his life was in daily peril. Besides, religion formed no part of his genuine character. Although, as a king, he was magnanimous, large-hearted, and brave; in his private life, he was profligate and sensual. He had been a Huguenot for political, rather than religious reasons; and for political reasons he ceased to be a Huguenot, and became a Roman Catholic. But it was a mistake on his part to suppose that his life was safer after his recantation than before. On the contrary, it was placed in still greater peril; and his speedy assassination was predicted on the very day of his pretended conversion. A member of the Grand Council, himself a zealous Roman Catholic, immediately on Henry’s abjuration, whispered to a friend, — “The King is lost! He is killable from this hour; before he was not.” One of Henry’s justest and greatest acts was the promulgation by him, in 1598, of the celebrated Edict of Nantes. By that edict the Huguenots, after sixty years of persecution, were allowed at last comparative liberty of conscience and freedom of worship. What the Roman Catholics thought of it, may be inferred from the protest of Pope Clement VIII., who wrote to Henry to say, that “a decree which gave liberty of conscience to all was the Most accursed that had ever been made .” From the date of that edict, persons of the Reformed Faith were admitted to public employment; their children were allowed access to the schools and universities; they were provided with equal representation in some of the provincial parliaments, and permitted to hold a certain number of places of surety in the kingdom. And thus was a treaty of peace established for a time between the people of the contending faiths throughout France. But though Henry IV. governed France ably and justly for a period of sixteen years his enemies, the Jesuits, never forgave him, nor did his apostasy avert their vengeance. After repeated attempts made upon his life by their emissaries, he was eventually assassinated by Francis Ravaillac, a lay brother of the monastery of St. Bernard, on the 14th of May 1610. Although the edicts of toleration were formally proclaimed by Henry’s successor, they were practically disregarded and violated. Marie de Medicis, the queen-regent, was, like all of her race, the bitter enemy of Protestantism. She was governed by Italian favorites, who inspired her policy. They distributed amongst themselves the public treasures with so lavish a hand, that the Parisians rose in insurrection against them, murdered Concini, whom the queen had created Marshal d’Ancre, and afterwards burned his wife as a sorceress; the young king, Louis XIII., then only about sixteen years old, joining in the atrocities. Civil war shortly broke out between the court and the country factions, which soon became embittered by the old religious animosities. There was a great massacre of the Huguenots in Bearn, where their worship was suppressed, and the Roman Catholic priests were installed in their places. Other massacres followed, and occasioned general alarm among the Protestants. In those towns where they were the strongest, they shut their gates against the King’s forces, and determined to resist force by force. In 1621 the young King set out with his army to reduce the revolted towns, and first attacked St. Jean d’Angely, which he captured after a siege of twenty-six days. He next assailed Montauban, but, after a siege of two months, he retired from the place defeated, with tears in his eyes. In 1622, the King called to his councils Armand Duplessis de Richelieu, the Queen’s favorite adviser, whom the Pope had recently presented with a cardinal’s hat. His force of character was soon felt, and in all affairs of government the influence of Richelieu became supreme. One of the first objects to which he applied himself, was the suppression of the anarchy which prevailed throughout France, occasioned in a great measure by the abuse of the feudal powers still exercised by the ancient noblesse. Another object which he considered essential to the unity and power of France, was the annihilation of the Protestants as a political party. Accordingly, shortly after his accession to office, he advised the attack of Rochelle, the head-quarters of the Huguenots — then regarded as the citadel of Protestantism in France. His advice was followed, and a powerful army was assembled and marched on the doomed place — Richelieu combining in himself the functions of bishop, prime-minister, and commander-inchief. The Huguenots of Rochelle defended themselves with great bravery for more than a year, during which they endured the greatest privations. But their resistance was in vain. On the 28th of October, 1628, Richelieu rode into Rochelle by the King’s side, in velvet and cuirass, at the head of the royal army; after which he proceeded to perform high mass in the church of St. Margaret, in celebration of his victory. The siege of Rochelle, while in progress, excited much interest among the Protestants throughout England; and anxious appeals were made to Charles I. to send help to the besieged. This he faithfully promised to do; and he despatched a fleet and army to their assistance, commanded by his favorite the Duke of Buckingham. The fleet duly arrived off Rochelle; and the army landed on the Isle of Rhe, but were driven back to their ships with great slaughter. Buckingham attempted nothing further on behalf of the Rochellese. He returned to England with a disgraced flag and a murmuring fleet, amidst the general discontent of the people. A second expedition sailed for the relief of the place, under the command of the Earl of Lindsay; but though the fleet arrived in sight of Rochelle, it sailed back to England without making any attempt on its behalf. The popular indignation rose to a greater height even than before. It was bruited abroad, and generally believed, that both expeditions had been a mere blind on the part of Charles I., and that, acting under the influence of his queen, Henrietta Maria, sister of the French king, he had never really intended that Rochelle should be relieved. However this might be, the failure was disgraceful; and when, in later years, the unfortunate Charles was brought to trial by his subjects, the abortive Rochelle expeditions were bitterly remembered against him. Meanwhile Cardinal Richelieu was vigorously prosecuting the war against the Huguenots, wherever they stood in arms against the King. His operations were uniformly successful. The Huguenots were everywhere overthrown, and in the course of a few years they had ceased to exist as an armed power in France. Acting in a wise and tolerant spirit, Richelieu refrained from pushing his advantage to an extremity; and when all resistance was over, he advised the King to issue an edict, granting them freedom of worship and other privileges. The astute statesman was doubtless induced to adopt this course by considerations of state policy, for he had by this time entered into a league with the Swedish and German Protestant powers, for the humiliation of the house of Austria; and with that object he sought to enlist the co-operation of the King’s Protestant as well as Roman Catholic subjects. The result was, that, in 1629, “the Edict of Pardon” was issued by Louis XIII., granting to the Protestants various rights and privileges, together with liberty of worship and equality before the law. From this time forward, the Huguenots ceased to exist as a political party, and were distinguished from the rest of the people by their religion only. Being no longer available for purposes of faction, many of the nobles, who had been their leaders, fell away from them and rejoined the Roman Catholic Church; though a large number of the smaller gentry, the merchants, manufacturers, and skilled workmen, remained Protestants. Their loyal conduct fully justified the indulgences granted to them by Richelieu; and these were confirmed by his successor Mazarin. Repeated attempts were made to involve them in the civil broils of the time, but they sternly kept aloof, and if they took up arms, it was on the side of the government. When, in 1632, the Duke of Montmorency sought, for factious purposes, to re-awaken religious passion in Languedoc, of which he was governor, the Huguenots refused to join him. The Protestant inhabitants of Montauban even offered to march against him. During the wars of the Fronde, they sided with the King against the factions. Even the inhabitants of Rochelle supported the regent against their own governor. Cardinal Mazarin, then prime-minister, .frankly acknowledged the loyalty of the Huguenots. “I have no cause,” he said, “to complain of the little flock; if they browse on bad herbage, at least they do not stray away.” Louis XIV. himself, at the commencement of his reign, formally thanked them for the consistent manner in which they had withstood the invitations of powerful chiefs to resist the royal authority; while, at the same time, he professed to confirm them in the enjoyment of their rights and privileges. The Protestants, however, continued to labor under many disabilities. They were in a great measure excluded from civil office and from political employment. They accordingly devoted themselves for the most part to industrial pursuits. They were acknowledged to be the best agriculturists, wine-growers, merchants, and manufacturers in France. “At all events,” said Ambrose Parr, one of the most industrious men of his time, “posterity will not be able to charge us with idleness.” No heavier crops were grown in France than on the farms in Bearn and the south-western provinces. In Languedoc, the cantons inhabited by the Protestants were the best cultivated and the most productive. The slopes of the Aigoul and the Eperon were covered with their flocks and herds. The valley of Vaunage, in the diocese of Nismes, where they had more than sixty temples, was celebrated for the richness of its vegetation, and was called by its inhabitants “the Little Canaan” The vinedressers of Berri and the Pays Messin, on the Moselle, restored these districts to more than their former prosperity; and the diligence, skill, and labor with which they subdued the stubborn soil and made it yield its increase of flowers and fruits and corn and wine, bore witness in all quarters to the toil and energy of the men of The Religion. The Huguenots of the towns were similarly industrious and enterprising. At Tours and Lyons they prosecuted the silk manufacture with great success. They made taffetas, velvets, brocades, ribbons, and cloth of gold and silver, of finer qualities than were produced in any other country in Europe. They also carried on the manufacture of fine cloth in various parts of France, and exported their articles in large quantities to Germany, Spain, and England. They established linen manufactories at Vire, Falaise, and Argentine, in Normandy; manufactories of bleached cloth at Morlaix, Landerman, and Brest, and of sailcloth at Rennes, Nantes, and Vitre, in Brittany; — the greater part of their productions being exported to Holland and England. The Huguenots also carried on large manufactories of paper in Auvergne and the Angoumois. In the latter province they had no fewer than six hundred paper-mills; the article they produced being considered the best in Europe. The mills at Ambert supplied the paper on which the choicest books, emanating from the presses of Paris, as well as of Amsterdam and London, were printed. The celebrated leather of Touraine, and the hats of Caudebec, were almost exclusively produced by Protestant manufacturers; who also successfully carried on, at Sedan, the fabrication of articles of iron and steel, which were exported abroad in large quantities. Perhaps one reason why the Huguenots were so successful in conducting these great branches of industry, consisted in the fact that their time was so much less broken in upon by saints’ days and festival-days, and that their labor was thus much more continuous, and consequently more effective, than in the case of the Roman Catholic portion of the population. Besides this, however, the Protestants were almost of necessity men of stronger character; for they had to swim against the stream and hold to their convictions in the face of obloquy, opposition, and often of active persecution. The sufferings they had endured for religion in the past, and perhaps the presentiment of heavier trials in the future, made them habitually grave and solemn in their demeanour. Their morals were severe, and their piety was considered rigid. Their enemies called them sour and fanatical, but no one called in question their honesty and their integrity. “If the Nismes merchants,” wrote Baville, Intendant of that province, one of the bitterest persecutors of the Protestants, “are bad Catholics, at any rate they have not ceased to be very good traders.” The Huguenot’s word was as good as his bond, and to be “honest as a Huguenot” passed into a proverb. This quality of integrity — which is so essential to the merchant, who deals with foreigners whom he never sees — so characterised the business transactions of the Huguenots, that the foreign trade of the country fell almost entirely into their hands. The English and Dutch were always found more ready to open a correspondence with them than with the Roman Catholic merchants; although religious affinity may possibly have had some influence in determining the preference. And thus at Bordeaux, at Rouen, at Caen, at Metz, at Nismes, and the other great centers of commerce, the foreign business of France came to be almost entirely conducted by Huguenot merchants. The enlightened minister Colbert gave every encouragement to these valuable subjects. Entertaining the conviction that the strength of states consisted in the number, the intelligence, and the industry of their citizens, he labored in all ways to give effect to this idea. 3 He encouraged the French to extend their manufactures; and at the same time he held out inducements to skilled foreign artizans to settle in the kingdom and establish new branches of industry. His invitation was accepted, and considerable numbers of Dutch and Walloon Protestants came across the frontier, and settled as cloth manufacturers in the northern provinces. Colbert was the friend, so far as he dared to be, of the Huguenots, whose industry he encouraged as the most effective means of enriching France, and enabling the nation to recover from the injuries inflicted upon it by the devastations and persecutions of the preceding century. With that object he granted privileges, patents, monopolies, bounties, and honors, after the old-fashioned method of protecting industry. Some of these expedients were more harassing than prudent. One merchant, when consulted by Colbert as to the best means of encouraging commerce, answered curtly — “Laissez faire et laissez passer : “Let us alone, and let our goods pass,” — a piece of advice which was at that time either understood or followed. Colbert also applied himself to the improvement of internal communications of the country. With active assistance and co-operation, Riquet de Bonrepos was enabled to construct the magnificent canal of Languedoc, which connected the Bay of Biscay with the Mediterranean. He restored the old roads of the country, and constructed new ones. He established free ports, sent consuls to the Levant, and secured a large trade with the Mediterranean. He bought Dunkirk and Mardyke from Charles II. of England, to the disgust of the English people. He founded dockyards at Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort. He created the French navy; and instead of possessing only a few old ships lying rotting in the harbors, the course of thirty years France came to possess 190 vessels, of which 120 were ships of the line. Colbert was withal an honest man. His predecessor Mazarin had amassed enormous wealth, whilst Colbert died possessed of a modest fortune, the fruits of long abour and rigid economy. His administration of the finances was admirable. When he assumed office, the state was over-burdened by debt, and all but bankrupt. The public books were in a state of inextricable confusion. His first object was to get rid of the debt by arbitrary composition, which was tantamount to an act of bankruptcy. He simplified the public accounts, economised the collection of taxes, cut off unnecessary expenditure, and reduced the direct taxation — placing his chief dependence upon indirect taxes on articles of consumption. After thirty years’ labor, he succeeded raising the revenue from thirty-two millions of livres to ninety-two millions net, — one-half only of the increase being due to additional taxation, the other half better order and economy in the collection. At the same time, Colbert was public-spirited and generous. He encouraged literature and the arts, as well as agriculture and commerce. He granted 160,000 pounds in pensions to men of letters and science, amongst whom we meet with the names of the two Corneilles, Moliere, Racine, Perrault, and Mezerai. Nor did he confine his liberality to the distinguished men of France, for he was equally liberal to foreigners who had settled in the country. Thus Huyghens, the distinguished Dutch natural philosopher, and Vossius, the geographer, were among his list of pensioners. He granted 208,000 pounds to the Gobelins and other manufactures in Paris, besides other donations to those in the provinces. He munificently supported the Paris Observatories, and contributed to found the Academy of Inscriptions, the Academy of Sciences, and the Academy of Painting and Sculpture. In short, Colbert was one of the most enlightened, sagacious, liberal, and honorable ministers who ever served a monarch or a nation. But behind the splendid ordonnances of Colbert, there stood a superior power — the master of France himself, Louis XIV. — “the Most Christian King.” Richelieu and Mazarin had, by crushing all other powers in the state — nobles, parliament, and people — prepared the way for the reign of this most absolute and uncontrolled of French monarchs. 4 He was proud, ambitious, fond of power, and believed himself to be the greatest of men. He would have everything to center in the king’s majesty. At the death of Mazarin in 1661, when his ministers asked to whom they were thenceforward to address themselves, his reply was — “A moi.” The wellknown saying — “ L’etat, c’est moi,” belongs to him. His people took him at his word. Rank, talent, and beauty bowed down before him: they even vied with each other who should bow the lowest. While Colbert was striving to restore the finances of France by the peaceful development of its industry, his magnificent king, with a mind far above mercantile considerations, was bent on achieving glory by the, conquest of adjoining territories. Thus, while his minister was, in 1668, engaged in organising a commercial system, Louis wrote to Charles II. with the air of an Alexander the Great: — “If the English are satisfied to be the merchants of the world, and leave me to conquer it, the matter can easily be arranged; of the commerce of the globe, three parts to England, and one part to France.” 5 Nor was this a mere whim of the King; it was the fixed idea of his life. Louis went to war with Spain. He overran Flanders, won victories, and France paid for the glory augmented taxation. He next made war with Holland. There were more battles, less glory, but the same inevitable increase of taxes. War in Germany followed, during which there were the great sieges of Besancon, Salin, and Dole; though this time there was no glory. Again Colbert was appealed to for money; but France had already been taxed almost to the utmost. The King told the minister, in 1673, that he must find sixty millions of livres more; “if he did not, another would .” Thus the war had become a question mainly of money, and the money Colbert must find. Forced loans were then had recourse to, the taxes were increased, honors and places were sold, and the money as eventually raised. The extravagance of Louis knew no bounds. Versailles was pulled down, and rebuilt at enormous cost. Immense sums were lavished in carrying out the designs of Vauban. France became surrounded with a belt of three hundred fortresses. Various other spend-thrift schemes were set on foot, until Louis had accumulated a debt equal to 100,000,000 pounds sterling. Colbert at last succumbed, crushed in body and mind. He died in 1683, worn out with toil, mortified and heart-broken at the failure of all his plans. The people, enraged at the taxes which oppressed them, laid the blame at the door of the minister; and his corpse was buried at night, attended by a military escort to protect it from the fury of the mob. Colbert did not live to witness the more disgraceful events which characterised the latter part of the reign of Louis XIV. The wars which that monarch waged with Spain, Germany, and Holland, for conquest and glory, were carrried on against men with arms in their hands, capable of defending themselves. But the wars which he waged against his own subjects — the dragon-nades and persecutions which preceded and followed the revocation of the edict of Nantes, of which the victims were defenseless men, women, and children — were simply ferocious and barbarous, and cannot fail in the long run to attach the reputation of Infamous to the name of Louis XIV., in history miscalled “The Great.” CHAPTER - THE HUGUENOT PERSECUTIONS UNDER LOUIS XIV. ONE of the first acts of Louis XIV. on assuming the supreme control of affairs at the death of Mazarin, was significant of his future policy with regard to the Huguenots. Among the representatives of the various public bodies who came to tender him their congratulations, there appeared a deputation of Protestant ministers, headed by their president Vignole. The King refused to receive them, and directed that they should leave Paris forthwith. Louis was not slow to follow up this intimation with measures of a more positive kind. He had been carefully taught to hate Protestantism; and now that he possessed unrestrained power, he entertained the notion of compelling the Huguenots to abandon their religious convictions, and adopt his own. His minister Louvois wrote to the governors throughout the provinces — “His Majesty will not suffer any person in his kingdom but those who are of his religion;” and orders were shortly after issued that Protestantism must cease to exist, and that the Huguenots must everywhere conform to the Royal Will. A series of edicts was accordingly published with the object of carrying the King’s purpose into effect. The conferences of the Protestants were declared to be suppressed. Though worship was still permitted in their churches, the singing of psalms in private dwellings was ordered to be forbidden. Spies were sent amongst them to report the terms on which the Huguenot pastors spoke of the Roman Catholic religion, and if any fault could be found with them they were cited before the tribunals for blasphemy. The priests were authorised to enter the chambers of sick Protestants, and entreat them whether they would be converted or die in heresy. Protestant children were invited to declare themselves against the religion of their parents. Boys of fourteen and girls of twelve years old might, on embracing Roman Catholicism, become enfranchised and entirely free from parental control. In such cases, the parents were further required to place and maintain their children in any Roman Catholic school into which they might desire to enter. The Huguenots were again debarred from holding public offices; though a few, such as Marshal Turenne and Admiral Duquesne, who were Protestants, broke through this barrier by the splendor of their services to the state. In some provinces, the exclusion was so severe that a profession of the Roman Catholic faith was required from simple artizans — shoemakers, carpenters, and the like — before they were permitted to labor at their callings. Colbert, while he lived, endeavored to restrain the King, and to abate the intolerable persecutions which dogged the Huguenots at every step. He continued to, employ them in the departments of finance, finding no honester nor abler servants. He also encouraged the merchants and manufacturers to persevere in their industrial operations, which he regarded as essential to the prosperity and well-being of the kingdom. He took the opportunity of cautioning the King lest the measures he was enforcing might tend, if carried out, to the impoverishment of France and the aggrandisement of her rivals. “I am sorry to say it,” said he to Louis, “that too many of your Majesty’s subjects are already amongst your neighbors as footmen and valets for their daily bread; many of the artizans, too, are fled from the severity of your collectors; they are at this time improving the manufactures of your enemies.” But all Colbert’s expostulations were in vain. The Jesuits were stronger than he was, and the King was in their hands. Besides, Colbert’s power was on the decline; he too had to succumb to the will of his royal master, who would not relieve even the highest genius from that absolute submission which he required from his courtiers. In 1666, the Queen-mother died, leaving to her son, as her last bequest, that he should suppress and exterminate Heresy within his dominions. The King knew that he had often grieved his royal mother by his notorious licentiousness, and he was now ready to atone for the wickedness of his past life, by obeying her wishes. The Bishop of Meaux exhorted him to, press on in the path his sainted mother had pointed out to him. “O kings!” said he, “exercise your power boldly, for it is divine — ye are gods!” Louis was not slack to obey the injunction, which so completely fell in with his own ideas of royal omnipotence. The Huguenots had already taken alarm at the renewal of the persecution, and such of them as could readily dispose of their property and goods, were beginning to leave the kingdom for the purpose of establishing themselves in other countries. To prevent his, the King issued an edict forbidding French subjects to proceed abroad without express permission,under the penalty of confiscation of their goods and property. This was followed by a succession of severe leasures for the conversion or extirpation of such of he Protestants — in number about a million and a half — as had not by this time contrived to make their escape from the kingdom. The kidnapping of Protestant children was actively set on foot by the agents of Roman Catholic priests; and the parents were subjected to heavy penalties if they ventured to complain. Orders were issued to pull down certain Protestant places of worship, and as many as eighty were destroyed in one diocese. The Huguenots offered no resistance. All that they did was to meet together, and pray that the King’s heart might yet be softened towards them. Blow upon blow followed. Protestants were forbidden to print books without the authority of magistrates of the Romish Communion. Protestant teachers were interdicted from teaching children anything but reading, writing, and arithmetic. Such pastors as held meetings amid the ruins of the churches which had been pulled down, were condemned to do penance with a rope round their neck, after which they were banished from the kingdom. Protestants were only allowed to bury their dead at daybreak or at nightfall. They were prohibited from singing psalms on land or on water, in workshops or in dwellings. If a priestly procession passed one of their churches while psalms were being sung, they must stop instantly, on pain of fine of the congregation, and imprisonment of the officiating minister. In short, from the pettiest annoyance to the most exasperating cruelty, nothing was wanting on the part of the Most Christian King and his abettors. Their intention probably was to exasperate the Huguenots into open resistance, with the object of finding a pretext for a second massacre of St. Bartholemew. But the Huguenots would not be exasperated. They bore their trials bravely and patiently, hoping and praying that the King’s heart would relent, and that they might yet be permitted to worship God according to conscience. All their patience and resignation were in vain. From day to day the persecution became more oppressive and intolerable. In the intervals of his scandalous amours, the King held conferences with his spiritual directors, to whom he was from time to time driven by bilious disease and the fear of death. He forsook Madame de La Valliere for Madame de Montespan, and Madame de Montespan for Madame de Maintenon, ever and anon taking counsel with his Jesuit confessor Pere La Chaise. Madame de Maintenon was the instrument of the latter, and between the two the “conversion” of the King was believed to be imminent. In his recurring attacks of illness, his conscience became increasingly uneasy. Confessor and mistress cooperated in turning his moroseness to account, and it was observed that every royal attack of bile was followed by some new edict of persecution against the Huguenots. Madame de Maintenon, the last favorite, was the widow of Scarron, the deformed wit and scoffer. She belonged to the celebrated Huguenot family of D’Aubigny, her grandfather having been one of the most devoted followers of Henry IV. Her father led a profligate life, but she herself was brought up in the family faith. A Roman Catholic relative, however, acting on the authority conferred by the royal edict, of abducting Protestant children, had the girl forcibly conveyed to the convent of Ursulines at Niort, from which she was transferred to the Ursulines at Paris, where, after some resistance, she abjured her faith and became a Roman Catholic. She left the convent to enter the world through Scarron’s door. When the witty cripple married her, he said, “his bride had brought with her an annual income of four louis, two large and very mischievous eyes, a fine bust, an exquisite pair of hands, and a large amount of wit.” Scarron’s house was the resort of the gayest and loosest, as well as the most accomplished persons of the time. There his young wife acquired that knowledge of the world, conversational accomplishment, and probably social ambition, which she afterwards turned so artfully and unscrupulously to account. One of her intimate friends was the notorious Ninon de l’Enclos; and it is not improbable that the appearance of that woman, courted by the fashionable world after thirty years of polished profligacy, exercised a powerful influence on the subsequent career of Madame Scarron. At Scarron’s death, his young widow succeeded in obtaining the post of governess to the children of Madame de Montespan, the King’s then mistress, whom she speedily superseded. She secured a footing in the King’s chamber, to the exclusion of the Queen, who was dying by inches, and by her adroitness, tact, and pretended devotion, she contrived to exercise an extraordinary influence over Louis, — so much so, that at length even the priests could only obtain access to him through her. She undertook to assist them in effecting his “conversion,” and labored at the work four hours a day, reporting progress from time to time to Pere la Chaise, his confessor. She early discovered the King’s rooted hatred towards the Huguenots, and conformed herself to it accordingly, increasing her influence over him by artfully fanning the flames of his fury against her quondam co-religionists; and fiercer and fiercer edicts were issued against them in quick succession. Before the extremest measures were resorted to, however, an attempt was made to buy over the Protestants wholesale. The King consecrated to this traffic one-third of the revenue of the benefices which fell to the Crown during the period of their vacancy; and the fund became very large through the benefices having been purposely left vacant. A “converted” Huguenot named Pelisson was employed to administer the fund. He published long lists of “conversions” in the Gazette ; but he concealed the fact that the takers of his bribes belonged to the dregs of the people. At length many were detected undergoing “conversion” several times over; upon which a proclamation was published, that persons found guilty of this offense would have their goods and property forfeited, and be sentenced to perpetual banishment. The great body of the Huguenots remaining immovable and refusing to be converted, it was found necessary to resort to more violent measures. They were attacked through their affections. Children of seven years old were empowered to leave their parents and become converted; and many were forcibly abducted from their homes, and immured in convent-prisons, for education in the Romish faith at the expense of their parents. Another exquisite stroke of cruelty followed. While such Huguenots as conformed were declared to be exempt from supplying quarters for the soldiery, the obstinate and unconverted were ordered to have an extra number quartered on them. Louvois, the King’s minister, wrote to Marillac, Intendant of Poitou, in March 1681, that he was about to send a regiment of horse into that province. “His Majesty,” he said, “has heard with much joy of the .great number of persons who continue to be converted in your department. He wishes you to persist in your endeavors, and desires that the greater number of horsemen and officers should be billeted upon the Protestants. If, according to a just distribution, ten would be quartered upon the members of the Reformed religion, you may order them to accommodate twenty,” This was the first attempt at the Dragonnades. Two years later, in 1683, the military executions began. Pity, terror, and anguish had by turns agitated the minds of the Protestants, until at length they were reduced to a state of despair. Their life was made intolerable. Every career was closed against them. Protestants of the working class were under the necessity of abjuring or starving. The mob, observing that the Protestants were no longer within the pale of the law, took the opportunity of wreaking all manner of outrages on them. They broke into their churches, tore up the benches, and, placing the Bibles and hymnbooks in a pile, set the whole on fire; the authorities usually setting their sanction on the proceedings of the rioters by banishing the burnedout ministers, and interdicting the further celebration of worship in their destroyed churches. The Huguenots of Dauphiny were at last stung into a show of resistance, and furnished the King with the pretext which he wanted for ordering a general slaughter of those of his subjects who would not be “converted” to his religion. A large congregation of Huguenots assembled one day amidst the ruins of a wrecked church, to celebrate worship and pray for the King. The Roman Catholics thereupon raised the alarm that this meeting was held for the purpose of organising a rebellion. The spark thus kindled in Dauphiny burst into flame in the Viverais, and even in Languedoc; and troops were brought from all quarters to crush the apprehended outbreak. Meanwhile the Huguenots continued to hold their religious meetings; and numbers of them were found one day assembled outside Bordeaux, where they had met to pray. There the dragoons fell upon them, cutting down hundreds, and dispersing the rest. “It was a mere butchery,” says Rulhieres, “without the show of a combat.” Several were apprehended and offered pardon if they would abjure; but they refused, and were hanged. Noailles, then governor, seized the opportunity of advancing himself in the royal favor by ordering a general massacre. He obeyed to the letter the cruel orders of Louvois, the King’s minister, who prescribed desolation . Cruelty raged for a time uncontrolled from Grenoble to Bordeaux. There were massacres in the Viverais and massacres in the Cevennes. An entire army had converged on Nismes, and there was so horrible a dragonnade that the city was “converted” in twenty-four hours. Noailles wrote to the King that there had indeed been some slight disorder, but that everything had been conducted with great judgment and discipline; and he promised with his head that before the next 25th of November (1683) there would be no more Huguenots in Languedoc. Similar cruelties occurred all over France. More Protestant churches were pulled down, and the property that belonged to them was confiscated for the benefit of the Roman Catholic hospitals. Many of the Huguenot landowners had already left the kingdom, and others were preparing to follow them. But this did not suit the views of the monarch and his advisers; and the ordinances were ordered to be put in force, which interdicted emigration, with the addition of condemnation to the galleys for life, of heads of families found attempting to escape, and a fine of three thousand livres against any person found encouraging or assisting them By the same Ordinance, all contracts for the sale of property made by the Reformed within one year before the date of their emigration, were declared nullified. The consequence was that many landed estates were seized and sold, of which Madame de Maintenon, the King’s mistress, artfully improved the opportunity. Writing to her brother, for whom she had obtained from the King a gratuity of 800,000 francs, she said: “I beg of you carefully to use the money you are about to receive. Estates in Poitou may be got for nothing; the desolation of the Huguenots will drive them to sell more. You may easily acquire extensive possessions in Poitou.” Thus were the poor Huguenots trodden under foot — persecuted, maltreated, fined, flogged, hanged, or sabred; nevertheless, many of those who survived remained faithful. Towards the end of 1684, a painful incident occurred at Marennes in Saintonge, where the Reformed religion extensively prevailed, notwithstanding the ferocity of the persecution. The church there comprised from 13,000 to 15,000 persons; but on the pretense that some children of the new converts to Romanism had been permitted to enter the building (a crime in the eye of the law), the congregation was ordered, late one Saturday evening, to be suppressed, On the Sunday morning a large number of worshippers appeared at the church-doors, some of whom had come from a great distance — their own churches being already closed or pulled down, — and amongst them were twenty-three infants brought for baptism. It was winter. The cold was intense. No shelter was permitted within the closed church; so that the poor things were, for the most part, frozen to death on their mother’s bosoms. Loud sobbing and wailing rose from the crowd. All wept — even the men. They could only find consolation in prayer; but they resolved, in this their darkest hour to be faithful to the end, even unto death. A large body of troops lay encamped in Bearn in the early part of 1685, to watch the movements of the Spanish army; but a truce having been agreed upon, the .Marquis de Louvois resolved to employ the regiments in converting the Huguenots of the surrounding districts after the methods adopted by Noailles at Nismes. Some hundreds of Bearnese Protestants having been driven by force into a church where the Bishop of Lescar officiated, the doors were closed, and the poor people were forced to kneel down and receive the bishop’s absolution at the point of the sword. To escape their tormentors, the Reformed fled into the woods, the wildernesses, and the caverns of the Pyrenees. They were pursued like wild beasts, brought back to their dwellings by force, and compelled to board and lodge their persecutors. The dragoons entered the houses with drawn swords, shouting, “Kill, kill, or become Catholics.” The scenes of brutal outrage which occurred during these dragonnades cannot be described. The soldiers were among the roughest, loosest, cruellest of men. They suspended their victims with ropes, blowing tobacco-smoke into their nostrils and mouths, and practising upon them a hundred other nameless cruelties; until the sufferers promised everything, to rid hemselves of their persecutors. No wonder that the constancy of the Bearnese at length yielded to the cruelty of their persecutors, and that they hastened to the priests in crowds to abjure their religion. The success of the dragonnades in enforcing conversion in Bearn, encouraged the King to employ the same means elsewhere; and in the course of four months, Languedoc, Guienne, Saintonge, Poitou, Viverais, Dauphiny, Cevennes, Provence, and Gex were scoured by these missionaries of the Church. Neither age nor sex was spared. The men who refused to be converted were thrown into dungeons, and the women were immured in prison-convents. Louvois thus reported the result of his operations, in September 1685: — “Sixty thousand conversions have been made in the district of Bordeaux, and twenty thousand in that of Montauban. So rapid is the progress, that before the end of the month ten thousand Protestants will not be left in the district of Bordeaux, where there were one hundred and fifty thousand on the 15th of last month.” Noailles wrote to a similar effect from Nismes: — “The most influential people,” said he, “abjured in the church the day following my arrival. There was a slackening afterwards, but matters soon assumed a proper shape with the help of some billetings on the dwellings of the most obstinate.” The King jocularly called the dragoons, who effected these conversions, — “ses missionnaires bottes !” In the meantime, while these forced conversions of the Huguenots were being made by the dragoons of De Louvois and De Noailles, Madame de Maintenon continued to labor at the conversion of the King himself. She was materially assisted by her royal paramour’s bad digestion, and by the qualms of conscience which from time to time beset him at the dissoluteness of his past life. Every twinge of pain, every fit of colic, every prick of conscience was succeeded by new resolutions to extirpate heresy. Penance must be done for his incontinence; but not by himself. It was the virtuous Huguenots that must suffer vicariously for him; and, by punishing them, he flattered himself that he was expiating his own sins. “It was not only his amours which deserve censure,” says Sismondi, “although the scandal of their publicity, the dignities to which he raised the children of his adultery, and the constant humiliation to which he subjected his wife, add greatly to his offense against public morality… He acknowledged in his judgments, and in his rigour towards his people, no rule but his own will, At the very moment that his subjects were dying of famine, he retrenched nothing from his prodigalities. Those who boasted of having converted him, had never represented to him more than two duties — that of renouncing his incontinence, and that of extirpating heresy in his dominions.” The farce of Louis’ “conversion” went on. In August, 1684, Madame de Maintenon wrote thus: — “The King is prepared to do everything that shall be judged useful for the welfare of religion; this undertaking will cover him with glory before God and man!” The dragonnades were then in full career throughout the southern provinces, and a long wail of anguish was rising from the persecuted all over France. In 1685 the King’s sufferings increased, and his conversion became imminent. His miserable body was already beginning to decay; but he was willing to make a sacrifice to God of what the devil had left of it. Not only did he lose his teeth, but caries in the jaw-bone developed itself; and when he drank, the liquid passed through his nostrils, 4 In this shocking state, Madame de Maintenon became his nurse. The Jesuits now obtained all that they wanted. They made a compact with Madame, by which she was to advise the King to revoke the Edict of Nantes, while they were to consent to her marriage with him. Pere la Chaise, the Royal confessor, advised a private marriage. The ceremony was performed at Versailles by the Archbishop of Paris, in the presence of the confessor and two more witnesses. The precise date of the transaction is not known; but it is surmised that the Edict was revoked one day, and that the marriage took place the next. The Act of Revocation was published on the 22nd of October, 1685. It was the death-knell of the Huguenots. CHAPTER - RENEWED FLIGHT OF THE HUGUENOTS GREAT was the rejoicing of the Jesuits on the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Rome sprang up with a shout of joy to celebrate the event. Te Deums were sung, processions went from shrine to shrine, and the Pope sent a brief to Louis conveying to him the congratulations and praises of the Romish Church. Public thanksgivings were held at Paris, in which the people eagerly took part, — thus making themselves accomplices in the proscription by the King of their fellow-subjects. The provost and sheriffs had a statue of Louis erected at the Hotel de Ville, the bas-reliefs displaying a frightful bat, whose wings enveloped the books of Calvin and Huss, and bearing the inscription, Luduvico Magno, victori perpetuo, ecclesiae ac regum, dignitatis assertori . 1 Lesueur was employed to paint the subject for the gallery at Versailles, and medals were struck to commemorate the extinction of Protestantism in France. The Roman Catholic clergy were almost beside themselves with joy. The eloquent Bossuet was especially fervent in his praises of the monarch: — “Touched by so many marvels,” said he (15th January, 1686), “let us expand our hearts in praise of the piety of the Great Louis. Let our acclamations ascend to heaven, and let us say to this new Constantine, this new Theodosius, what the six hundred and thirty fathers said in the Council of Chalcedon, ‘You have strengthened the faith, you have exterminated the heretics: King of Heaven, preserve the king of earth.’” Massillon indulged in a like strain of exultation: “The profane temples,” said he, “are destroyed, the pulpits of seduction are cast down, the prophets of falsehood are torn from their flocks. At the first blow dealt to it by Louis, heresy falls, disappears, and is reduced either to hide itself in the obscurity whence it issued, or to cross the seas, and to bear with it into foreign lands its false gods, its bitterness, and its rage.” Let us now see what the Revocation of the Edic of Nantes involved — The demolition of all the remaining Protestant temples throughout France, and the entire proscription of the Protestant religion; the prohibition of even private worship, under penalty of confiscation of body and property; the banishment of all Protestant pastors from France within fifteen days; the closing of all Protestant schools; the prohibition of parents to instruct their children in the Protestant faith; the injunction, under a penalty of five hundred livres in each case, to have their children baptized by the parish priest, and brought up in the Roman Catholic religion; the confiscation of the property and goods of all Protestant refugees who failed to return to France within four months; the penalty of the galleys for life to all men, and of imprisonment for life to all women, detected in the act of attempting to escape from France ! Such were a few of the dastardly and inhuman provisions of the Edict of Revocation. It was a proclamation of war by the armed against the unarmed — a war against peaceable men, women and children — a war against property, against family, against society, against public morality, and, more than all, against religion and the rights of conscience. The military jacquerie at once began. The very day on which the Edict of Revocation was registered, steps were taken to destroy the great Protestant church at Charenton, near Paris. It had been the work of the celebrated architect Debrosses, and was capable of containing 14,000 persons. In five days it was levelled with the ground. The great temple of Quevilly, near Rouen, of nearly equal size, in which the celebrated minister Jacques Basnage preached, was in like manner demolished. At Tours, at Nismes, at Montauban, and all over France, the same scenes were enacted, — the mob eagerly joining in the work of demolition with levers and pickaxes. Eight hundred Protestant temples were thrown down in a few weeks. The provisions of the Edict of Revocation were rigorously put in force. They were also followed by other edicts still more severe. The Protestants were commanded to employ only Roman Catholic servants under penalty of a fine of 1,000 livres, while Protestant servants were forbidden to serve either Protestant or Roman Catholic employers. If any men-servants were detected violating this law, they were liable to be sent to the galleys; whereas women-servants were to be flogged and branded with a fleur-delis — the emblazonment of the “Most Christian King.” Protestant pasters found lurking in France after the expiry of fifteen days, were to be condemned to death ; and any of the King’s subjects found giving harbour to the pastors were to be condemned — the men to be galley-slaves, the women to imprisonment for life! The reward of 5,500 livres was offered for the apprehension of any Protestant pastor. The Huguenots were not even permitted to die in peace. They were pursued to death’s door, and into the grave itself. They were forbidden to solicit the offices of those of their own faith, and were required to confess and receive unction from the priests, on penalty of having their bodies, when dead, removed from their dwelling by the common hangman, and flung into the public sewer. In the event of the sick Protestant recovering, after having rejected the viaticum, he was to be condemned to perpetual confinement at the galleys, or imprisonment for life, with confiscation of all his property. Crushed, tormented, and persecuted by these terrible enactments, the Huguenoks felt that life in France had become intolerable. It is true, there was an alternative — conversion. But Louis XIV., with all his power, could not prevail against the impenetrable rampart of conscience, and a large proportion of the Huguenots persistently refused to be converted. They would not act the terrible lie to God, and seek their personal safety at the price of hypocrisy. They would not become Roman Catholics; they would rather die. There was only one other means of relief — flight from France. Yet it was a frightful alternative, — to tear themselves from the country they loved, from their friends and relatives, from the homes of their youth and the graves of their kindred, and fly — they knew not whither. The thought of self-banishment was so agonising that many hesitated long and prepared to endure much before taking the irrevocable step; and many more prepared to suffer death rather than leave their country and their homes. Indeed, to fly in any direction became increasingly difficult from day to day. The frontiers were strongly patrolled by troops and gensdarmes; the coast was closely watched by an armed coast-guard, while ships of war cruised at sea to intercept and search outward-bound vessels. The law was strictly enforced against all persons taken in the act of flight. Under the original edict, detected fugitives were to be condemned to the galleys for life, while their denouncers were to be rewarded with half their goods. But this punishment was not considered sufficiently severe; and on the 7th of May, 1686, the King issued another edict, proclaiming that any captured fugitives, as well as any person found acting as their guide, would be condemed to death . Amidst the general proscription, a few distinguished exceptions were made by the King, who granted permission to several laymen, in return for past public services, to leave the kingdom and settle abroad. Amongst these were Marshal Schomberg, one of the first soldiers of France, who had been commander-in-chief of its armies, and the Marquis de Ruvigny, one of its ablest ambassadors, — whose only crime consisted in being Protestants. The gallant Admiral Duquesne also, the first sailor of France, was a Huguenot. The King sent for him, and urged him to abjure his religion. But the old hero, pointing to his gray hairs, replied, “For sixty years, sire, have I rendered unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; suffer me still to render unto God the things which are God’s.” Duquesne was permitted to end his few remaining days in France, for he was then in his eightieth year; but his two sons were allowed to emigrate, and they shortly after departed into Holland. The banished pastors were treated with especial severity. Fifteen days only had been allowed them to fly beyond the frontier; and if they tarried longer in their agonising leave-taking of their flocks, they were liable to be sent to the galleys for life. Yet with that exquisite malignity which characterised the acts of the monarch and his abettors, they were in some cases refused the necessary permits to pass the frontier, in order that they might thereby be brought within the range of the dreadful penalties proclaimed by the Act of Revocation. The pastor Claude, one of the most eloquent preachers of his day, who had been one of the ministers of the great church at Charenton, was ordered to quit France within twenty-four hours; and he set out forthwith, accompanied by one of the King’s footmen, who saw him as far as Brussels. The other pastors of Paris were allowed two days to make their preparations for leaving. More time was allowed to those in the provinces; but they were prevented carrying anything with them, — even their children, — all under seven years of age being taken from them, to be brought up in the religion of their persecutors. Even infants at the breast were to be given up; and many a mother’s heart was torn by conflicting feelings, — the duty of following a husband on the road to banishment, or remaining behind to suckle her helpless infant. When all the banished pastors had fled, those of their flocks who still remained steadfast prepared to follow them into exile; for many felt it easier to be martyrs than apostates. Those who possessed goods and movables, made haste to convert them into money in such a way as to excite the least possible suspicion; for spies were constantly on the watch, ready to inform against them. Such as were engaged in trade, commerce, and manufactures, were surrounded by difficulties; yet they were prepared to dare and risk all rather than abjure their religion. They prepared to lose their workships, their tanneries, their paper-mills, their silk-manufactories, and the various branches of industry which they had built up, and to fly with the merest wreck of their fortunes into other countries. The owners of land had still greater difficulties to counter. They were in a measure rooted to the soil; and according to the royal edict, if they emigrated without special permission, their property was ble to immediate confiscation by the state. Nevertheless, many of these, too, resolved to brave all risks and fly from France. When the full tide of the emigration set in, it was made difficult to guard the extensive French frontier, as effectually to prevent the escape of the fugitives. The high-roads as well as the by-ways were regularly patrolled day and night, and all the bridges leading out of France were strongly guarded. But the fugitives avoided the frequented routes, and crossed the frontier through forests, over trackless wastes, or by mountain-paths, where no patrols were on the watch; and they thus contrived to escape in large numbers to Switzerland, Germany, and Holland. They mostly traveled by night, not in bands but in small parties, and often singly. When the members of a family prepared to fly, they fixed a rendezvous in some town across the nearest frontier; then, after prayer and taking a tender leave of each other, they set out separately, and made for the agreed point of meeting, usually traveling by different routes. Many of the fugitives were of course captured by the King’s agents. Along so extensive a frontier, it was impossible to elude their vigilance. To strike terror into such of the remaining Huguenots as might be contemplating their escape, the prisoners who were caught were led as a Show through the principal towns, with heavy chains round their necks, in some cases weighing over fifty pounds. Sometimes they were placed in carts, with irons on their feet, — the chains being made fast to the cart. They were forced to make long marches; and, when they sank under fatigue, blows compelled them to rise. After they had been thus driven through the chief towns by way of example, the prisoners were sent to the galleys, — where there were already more than a thousand by the end of 1686. The galley-slaves included men of all conditions: pastors and peasants; old men with white hairs and boys of tender years; magistrates, officers, and men of gentle |
