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The Old Cevenol 
 
 By 
 
 Rabaut Saint-Etienne 
 
 n 
 
 Translated from the French 
 By 
 
 Alfred E. Seddon 
 
 a 
 
 CINCINNATI, O. 
 
 THE STANDARD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1911 
 

 Copyright, 1911 
 The Standard Publishing Companjr 
 
 ©CI.A297058 
 
PREFACE 
 
 I am glad that the editor o£ the Christian Standard 
 proposes to pubhsh such Hterature as will acquaint Chris- 
 tians in America with the noble struggles of French Chris- 
 tians against the Papacy. There are two periods especially 
 that will form instructive and timely reading. The period 
 of the Albigensian persecution, and the period during the 
 vahdity of the Edict of Nantes, and for a hundred years 
 subsequent to its revocation. 
 
 The story of "The Old Cevenol" is one of the most 
 popular works in the Sunday-school libraries of the Prot- 
 estant churches of France. It was written by Rabaut Saint- 
 Etienne, a famous and eloquent Protestant preacher, and 
 the son of a preacher — Paul Rabaut — whose faithful min- 
 istry to "The Church of the Desert," as a colleague of that 
 apostolic man, Antoine Court, marks him as one of the 
 most valiant of the heroic defenders of the faith in those 
 tragic days. The first edition of the book was published 
 about ten years before the great French Revolution, and 
 consequently during a period when the infamous perse- 
 cuting laws stained the statute-book of France. "The Old 
 Cevenol" is a story. Ambroise Borely is a fictitious hero, 
 but the story is a faithful description of the experiences 
 endured by Christians in France under the "Revocation." 
 I believe the book has been translated into English. I have 
 
 not seen the English edition. I have found both pleasure 
 
 5 
 
6 PREFACE 
 
 and profit in translating it myself, and this independent 
 translation will avoid all possible interference with any 
 rights that may exist of the English translator. The edition 
 from which I translate is edited by Pastor Charles Dardier, 
 published by the Societe des livres religieux at Toulouse, 
 and is dated 1893. The editor closes his preface with the 
 following words, which are almost as appropriate in Amer- 
 ica as in France : 
 
 In publishing the present volume, we have had special regard 
 to the young Protestants of our own day. They are the hope of 
 our churches, and we trust they will find in this work not only 
 interest, but also profit. The circumstances in the midst of which 
 they are growing up are not, thank God, as tragic as formerly; 
 but they are always solemn, sometimes difficult. It is not well that 
 they should forget, or be ignorant of, the spiritual legacy that our 
 fathers have bequeathed to us, at the price of their blood 
 
 Alfred E. Seddon. 
 EcoLE BiBLiQUE, Vanvcs (Seine), France, 1910. 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 By Rabaut Saint-Etienne. 
 
 [Translated from the French by Alfred E. Seddon.] 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The London papers have made known to the world the 
 death of Sieur Ambroise Borely, who was born in the 
 Cevennes, the loth March, 1671, and died at London the 
 14th September, 1774, at the great age of 103 years, 7 
 months and 4 days. The most ordinary name becomes so 
 celebrated, when he who bears it reaches such an advanced 
 age, as to be the envy of mortals ; but there were special 
 circumstances in the life of Borely which add to this 
 natural interest ; circumstances which moved his friend — 
 Mr. William Chesterman, good citizen of Spring Garden — • 
 to gather together anecdotes of his life. This book having 
 fallen into our hands, we read it, we were interested, and 
 we translated it into French, using that honest liberty that 
 every translator ought to have, to dress up the foreigner 
 in the fashion of his own country. We shall faithfully re- 
 produce this interesting and singular history. 
 
 Ambroise Borely was born in the Cevennes. His father 
 was a good, honest citizen of that country. He was the 
 eldest of seven children. His father was moderately well- 
 to-do and lived in simple fashion, looking after his farm, 
 going hunting occasionally on foot followed by a single 
 
8 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 dog, dining once or twice a week with his friends, regularly 
 attending preaching on Sundays, quietly enjoying the jJres- 
 ent without anxiety as to the future. At that time Louis 
 XIV. was astonishing all Europe with his magnificence and 
 his glory. Nothing seemed to hinder his good fortune or 
 to successfully resist his arms. His generals and his min- 
 isters were all that he could wish. The brilliant entertain- 
 ments given at his court were like the enchantments of 
 fairyland. One might almost say the mountains became 
 plains before him, for everywhere his will was anticipated 
 and executed with a promptitude that was perfectly mar- 
 velous. 
 
 As is well known, those who were around him took ad- 
 vantage of his impetuosity to obtain his authority for the 
 revocation of the Edict of Nantes. He was the kind of 
 monarch to obtain such a concession from. He loved to 
 attain his end and had no scruples about the means em 
 ployed, and he insisted that his commands should be in- 
 stantly obeyed. A patriotic Englishman has no occasion 
 to complain of a measure that has proved so advantageous; 
 to his country, and, as a good citizen, I can not but hope 
 that in France they may continue to imagine that this revo- 
 cation is an admirable stroke of policy. 
 
 The day having been fixed on which everybody should 
 be requested to become converted, troops were immediately 
 sent forth to back up that request. All France knew what 
 prodigies had been wrought by the soldiers, and when, in 
 the little town where Hyacinthe Borely, father of Ambroise, 
 lived, they learned that two battalions of missionaries had 
 arrived, there was a general alarm. The commanding 
 officer did his duty in fine style. He summoned the in- 
 habitants to meet on the public square, and he there in- 
 formed them that he had come to convert them, and that 
 he proposed to do so with the aid of the honest men who 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 9 
 
 had come with him. He trusted they would not oppose the 
 wishes of the king, but, if they were obstinate and refused 
 to return to the bosom of the church, they would be per- 
 suaded to do so by sundry pains and calamities. Many of 
 his hearers found this short sermon so eloquent that they 
 did not hesitate for one moment to do all that the com- 
 mander advised, but a great number of obstinate persons 
 closed their eyes to the dazzling light that beamed from 
 the arguments of this missionary and refused to be con- 
 verted. It was then that a free rein was given to the 
 soldiers to proceed in their work of conversion, who, for 
 the great good of the heretics, tortured them with all the 
 fury with which the demons torture the damned. 
 
 You would hardly believe what Ambroise used to tell 
 about the deeds of which he had been witness and which 
 were reported on all sides. The soldiers were permitted 
 to do just what they pleased, provided, it was said, that 
 they did not kill the people. But they sometimes found it 
 difificult to place such restraint on their zeal as, after con- 
 ducting their victims to the very threshold of the tomb, to 
 prevent them stepping over it. They heaped violence on 
 violence. They poured boiling water in the mouths of 
 some; they stripped others naked and stretched them in 
 front of a fire and turned them as on a spit; they made 
 others hold red-hot coals in their closed hands. In each 
 house was found a different kind of torture, according to 
 the inventive genius of those who undertook the work of 
 conversion. Here they plunged people dow'n a well, there 
 they stuck pins down the finger-nails of the heretics, or 
 they sprinkled gunpowder in the ears of people and fired 
 it. They put the naked legs of some in boots filled with 
 grease, and then stood them before a fierce fire until they 
 fell fainting. They rubbed salt and vinegar into the 
 wounds they had made; they dropped hot melted tallow 
 
10 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 into eyes, and, in a word, whatever torture human barbarity- 
 has inventeu during centuries was practiced here. 
 
 All the laws of modesty and of nature were violated by 
 the unbridled soldiery, who, in other campaigns, had been 
 taught, and even commanded, to commit acts of most 
 striking injustice. From nursing mothers they took their 
 infants, leaving them to be distressed by the accumulation 
 of milk in their breasts. Sometimes they would tie the 
 mother to a bedpost and place the infant a little distance 
 off, so that the distress of the infant might increase the 
 distress of the mother. The towns resounded with the 
 frantic cries of victims in agony, the profanity of the 
 soldiers and the cries and moans of the Huguenots. The 
 remotest deserts no longer served for an asylum ; they were 
 chased like wild beasts, bringing back the fugitives to ex- 
 pose" th'em to a thousand tortures. 
 
 The most outrageous pillage accompanied these barbar- 
 ities. Furniture, utensils, provisions were thrown out into 
 the street. The soldiers stabled their horses in the parlors, 
 and made litters for them with articles of silk and cotton, 
 or on sheets of Holland cloth. The soldiers amused them- 
 selves by feeding their horses with the provisions from the 
 family larder, whilst they left the families to suffer the 
 horrors of famine. Such scenes, being enacted at the same 
 timiC in all the houses in the town, would lead one to beheve 
 that France had been delivered over to a band of cannibals. 
 After the art of conversion had been brought to perfection 
 by a year of practice, it came to form a part of the regular 
 military discipline. The officer gave his orders for the 
 tortures, and the soldier who betrayed any weakness was 
 punished. Under such a condition of things all h'earts 
 seemed to become insensible to pity, and the minds of men 
 were possessed with madness. Thus it came to pass that 
 France, in what has been called her best days, presented 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 11 
 
 to mankind an exhibition more outrageous than the scenes 
 of "The Spanish Fury" in America. Even the day of St. 
 Bartholomew was less horrible and less dishonorable, for 
 that was just one day, and the court which gave the orders 
 countermanded them two days later; but the delirium of 
 the Revocation lasted for several years, and if it is true, 
 as we are assured, that the laws which authorized it have 
 still their apologists in France, it is evident that this mad- 
 ness has prevailed for a century. 
 
 Scenes like these being enacted in the town where Hya- 
 cinthe Borely lived, you will well understand that he was 
 not spared. When his provisions had been consumed, his 
 wife, although about again to become a mother, was driven 
 out of her home, followed by her weeping children. She 
 took refuge in the home of one of her sisters, which, at 
 that moment, was not occupied by the dragoons. Hyacinthe 
 Borely, going to get the keys of his abandoned home, was 
 arrested by the* soldiers, tied up to the chimney and treated 
 so cruelly that he expired before the day was out. Am- 
 broise was tied to the foot of the bed, where, helplessly, 
 he wept as he beheld the agony of his dying father. After 
 awhile the work of conversion had sufficiently advanced in 
 the town. Everybody was either Roman Catholic, or dead, 
 or fled to the woods, or shut up in dungeons. So the 
 troops went on their way to another town, just as if nothing 
 had happened. They would report to King Louis XIV. 
 that everybody had been converted, and the king believed 
 it to be a fact. It is a matter of historic record that, at that 
 period, the king would, at his levee, report to the assembled 
 courtiers the rapidity with which the work of conversion 
 went forward, and congratulate himself on the extreme 
 ease with which the work was accomplished. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Hardly had the troops retired from the town, than the 
 Protestants returned to their former rehgious behefs. 
 Many of them had fled in order to escape the penahies they 
 had been condemned to. Some of these were arrested at 
 the frontier and condemned to death or to hfelong impris- 
 onment. Others, known to have returned to their heresies, 
 were transported. Thus, within. the space of two months, 
 this httle town (prior to this time very populous) was re- 
 duced to about a third of its former population. 
 
 The mother of Ambroise, who had kept in hiding, came 
 back with her children to her home. She tried to save 
 something from the ruin of her fortune. She made ar- 
 rangements with new renters, for the old ones had been 
 ruined. She bought a few articles of furniture; no very 
 difhcult matter, for so many people had fled from their 
 homes, and, keeping herself quietly hidden in her own 
 home, succeeded for some time in escaping the vigilance of 
 the priests. It was in these moments of tranquility that she 
 commenced to realize most bitterly the depth of her own 
 sorrow, for until then it had seemed to be drowned in the 
 general consternation. She found herself alone, robbed 
 of a tender, virtuous and much-beloved husband and pro- 
 tector, with the responsibility of a large family of young 
 children, and separated from many of her relatives and 
 most intimate friends who had fled to foreign lands. She 
 was, moreover, deprived of the necessary means to provide 
 for the wants of her family. Great troubles make great 
 souls. The souls that are not crushed by afflictions rise by 
 12 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 13 
 
 them, and nothing contributes more to sustain our strength 
 than to feel that we are strong. The widow of Hyacinthe 
 Borely realized that her only resource was her own courage. 
 She faced her misfortunes boldly. She found in the very 
 cares that her family required the energy for new efforts. 
 
 There was, however, one kind of evil against which she 
 had no defense. Her children were the only consolation 
 left to her, and she trembled lest they should be taken 
 away from her. Those were times when natural law was 
 ignored, and led to the violation of all law. People seemed 
 to think that everything was lawful to compel people to 
 enter heaven according to the ideas of the Church of Rome. 
 As a consequence, the greatest injustice was practiced, on 
 the plea that it was the greatest love. What seems to us 
 most cruel was held by the church to be most humane and 
 just. To snatch a child from its parents was an act of be- 
 nevolence. These principles had been affirmed by solemn 
 laws, which France appears to honor and cherish, since she 
 still retains them on her statute-book. 
 
 These fears that oppressed the heart of Ambroise's 
 mother urged her to seek the means of escaping them. She 
 believed that she could not do better than, by her in- 
 structions, to arm them against the evils that threatened 
 them. Ambroise, the eldest, profited especially by her 
 teaching, and she had the joy of perceiving in him, with the 
 features of his father, of whom he reminded her, the sa ne 
 character and indications of the same virtues. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Ambroise was now nearly fifteen, yet he knew no trade. 
 He could read and write very well, thanks to the care of 
 his mother and the attention that his uncle had given to 
 his education. He had been taught to fear God and to do 
 good to his fellow-men. He was honest, outspoken and 
 generous. He had an attractive appearance and his face 
 gave indication of the goodness of his heart. With such 
 talents and habits as he gave evidence of, there seemed to 
 be no career in life that he might not aspire to. It was 
 time now that he should think about his future, and indeed 
 the matter occupied his thoughts very seriously. But he 
 found the choice of a profession a difficult problem. How- 
 ever, as his grandfather had been a great lawyer, and as 
 this profession was one very highly respected, especially in 
 small towns, he first of all decided to follow that profession. 
 So he called on a lawyer whom he knew in order to tell 
 him of his intentions and to consult him about the matter. 
 He thought perhaps that his friend might be willing to take 
 him into his office, where he might learn the first principles 
 of the profession. The lawyer was exceedingly kind to Am- 
 broise, but told him that the profession of the law was for- 
 bidden to Protestants, and consequently by studying the law 
 he would only be losing valuable time which he might more 
 profitably employ in some other profession. The young 
 man was surprised to hear this, and greatly disappointed 
 thus to find his ambitions thwarted, but he replied that if 
 the career of a lawyer was not open to him, he would at 
 
 least like to be a procurator or notary, and that he would 
 14 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 15 
 
 be glad to serve his apprenticeship in his friend's office. 
 The lawyer told him that even that could not be ; that there 
 were several royal decrees forbidding to Protestants the 
 professions of procurator and notary, and, what is more, he 
 would not even be allowed to take Ambroise as a clerk in 
 his office, as there was another statute forbidding lawyers 
 to employ Protestant clerks, under a penalty of a fine of 
 one thousand livres. "A'ly friend," said he finally, "give up 
 the idea of entering the law and of wearing the black robe; 
 the law does not permit you to be even a bailiff, a sergeant, 
 a constable, or so much as a bailifT's man ; the sanctuary of 
 justice must not in any way be contaminated by heresy." 
 Ambroise, who had a good deal of sense for his years, 
 thought it was very singular that Protestant opinions should 
 disqualify a man from studying the quirks of the law. He 
 was so tickled at the absurdity of it that, for the moment, 
 he forgot his disappointment and went out of the office 
 roaring with laughter. "Well," said he to himself, "if I 
 can not be a lawyer, I will be a doctor ; for, after all, it is 
 a better thing to devote one's life to healing the sicknesses 
 of men than to be everlastingly occupied with their quar- 
 rels and follies." 
 
 With this thought in his mind, Ambroise went straight 
 to the house of a doctor, and was still laughing as he told 
 of his adventure with the lawyer. He told the doctor that 
 he was really not sorry for this disappointment caused by 
 the royal proclamations, since it had led him to turn his 
 attention to a profession infinitely more noble and useful. 
 The physician agreed with Ambroise that his was the 
 noblest of all professions. "The more noble and lofty char- 
 acter of our profession," said he, "makes it incumbent on 
 us to have great care to keep clear of all miserable heretics 
 who, by their erroneous opinions, would contaminate the 
 pure truthfulness of the physician's soul. For that reason, 
 
16 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 Pere la Chaise and Monseigneur de Louvois have ordained 
 that, in order to be a good doctor, one must be a Catholic." 
 Ambroise naturally inquired if Esculapius, Hippocrates and 
 Galen were Catholics. "No," replied the doctor, "they were 
 pagans, and I can not understand why God permitted them 
 to attain such skill in their profession, but then that hap- 
 pened in the age of miracles, and, since the age of miracles 
 is past, it is perfectly clear that only Catholics can possibly 
 be competent doctors. Moreover, there is a royal decree 
 making it unlawful to call in a Protestant physician to a 
 sick person. Yes, my friend, it is dated the 6th of August, 
 1685, and it furnishes an admirable proof of the wisdom 
 of Pere la Chaise, for, between ourselves, I personally do 
 not see why a Protestant could not be a lawyer. In order 
 to judge whether a thing is good or bad, it does not matter 
 what a man's religion is, but a Protestant physician is 
 nothing less than a social plague. If, for instance, there 
 were any Protestant physicians here, that would be the 
 source of two evils. First, I might perhaps be less fre- 
 quently called in to attend the sick; that itself would be a 
 public calamity, and, secondly, since the profession of law- 
 yer is forbidden to the Protestants, the number of physi- 
 cians of the so-called reformed religion would increase to 
 such an extent that very few Catholics would follow that 
 fine profession. Now, it is easy to see how disastrous that 
 would be to the public health, because the physicians of 
 the so-called reformed religion Vv^ould hardly take the 
 trouble to notify the sick of their serious condition, so that 
 the priest might be called in to administer the sacraments. 
 This is the principal reason for the prohibition of Protestant 
 physicians, alleged in the king's decreee. The great piety 
 of the Reverend Pere la Chaise constrains him, in his wis- 
 dom, to secure the salvation of the faithful. It is not that 
 he wishes to aggrandize his society; that has never been 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 17 
 
 the object of the Jesuits. He does not take earthly things 
 hito consideration ; he turns his thoughts toward heaven, 
 and he fain would constrain you to enter there in spite of 
 yourselves. As for myself, I approve of this proclamation 
 of the king with all my heart; before it was published I was 
 starving. There were three old quacks who were doing all 
 the business ; they have fled to Holland or to England, and 
 now I am left alone; the sick must apply to me." 
 
 Ambroise was surprised to find that laws which can only 
 be good in so far as they contribute to the general well- 
 being, are judged by individuals to be good just in so far as 
 they favor personal interest. He also was surprised to find 
 that it was necessary to be a Catholic in order to be per- 
 mitted to heal the sick. "K I were sick," said he, "I should 
 not ask what is the religion of my doctor. I should simply 
 ask if he is skillful. Pere la Chaise seems to have reason 
 for thinking otherwise." 
 
 Whilst reflecting thus, Ambroise left the doctor, and, as 
 his head was filled with the many fine things that had been 
 said about the medical profession, he took a notion to go 
 into a drugstore. "Here," said he, "I shall not find the 
 same difficulties; apothecaries are not consulted by sick 
 people, and, consequently, they would not be in a position 
 to hinder them from receiving the sacrament. The sale of 
 drugs and the distribution of remedies have not any influ- 
 ence whatever on matters of faith and salvation, and the 
 Jesuits, who are so concerned about the everlasting happi- 
 ness of souls, can hardly find a pretext for depriving us of 
 this modest profession. It is true, it is not quite so honor- 
 able. I would certainly rather give orders than execute 
 them ; write prescriptions than mix them up ; but since my 
 religion excludes me from the honors, I must submit myself 
 to destiny." 
 
 He had scarcely finished these reflections when he found 
 
 2 
 
18 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 himself in front of an apothecary's shop. His decision was 
 taken. He entered the store and presented himself to the 
 apothecary in a most courteous manner. The man of drugs 
 asked him what he wanted. Ambroise frankly told him 
 what he had come for, explaining his embarrassment; how, 
 not being permitted to be either lawyer, or procurator, or 
 sheriff's officer, or notary, or assessor, or attorney, or 
 sergeant, or constable, or doctor, he had called to find out 
 whether it would be possible for him to be an apothecary. 
 He explained with childlike innocence the reasons that led 
 him to believe that a Protestant could sell drugs without 
 imperiling the eternal salvation of his neighbors; but he 
 soon found out that he was mistaken. 
 
 "What! another royal proclamation!" cried poor Am- 
 "broise. 
 
 "Well, very nearly so, my friend. There is an edict of 
 the king, dated the 15th September, 1685, which forbids all 
 surgeons and apothecaries of the so-called reformed religion 
 to exercise their arts." 
 
 "But what can be the reason of this prohibition?" 
 
 "It is that, as apothecaries are sometimes called in to see 
 sick people, probably five or six times a year, and as they 
 have some acquaintance with theology, they might, by their 
 arguments, keep Protestants from emhracmg the Catholic 
 religion. Thus it is prudent, having regard to the salvation 
 of the sick, that none but Catholics should be permitted to 
 approach them." 
 
 Ambroise, who had already anticipated this reply, said: 
 "H that is so, and those that surround the sick person 
 must be Catholics, his servants should be Catholics also." 
 
 "Doubtless," replied the apothecary. "In fact, there 
 exists a royal decree that forbids the adherents of the so- 
 called reformed religion employing any other than Catholics 
 as domestic servants. The infraction of this law involves a 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 19 
 
 penalty of a fine of one thousand livres for the employer, 
 and the punishment for the servant is more severe. If a 
 man, he is sent to the galleys; if a woman, she is whipped 
 and branded' with a fieur de lys. You can readily see how 
 necessary this is. The Catholic servant is a spy in the 
 Protestant household, and can reveal everything that goes 
 on in the family to the priest at the confessional, and the 
 Jesuits will not fail to report everything of importance to 
 Pere la Chaise." 
 
 "Pere la Chaise again," said Ambrose. "And it is he 
 who draws up all these royal proclamations ?" 
 
 "Yes, my friend; that shows his zeal for the salvation 
 of souls. It is on that account that he takes so many pre- 
 cautions to stamp out heresy. It is for this reason that all 
 Protestant mid wives are forbidden to exercise their profes- 
 sion by royal declaration. It is true that, in some localities, 
 there are none but Protestant midwives, and several women, 
 in giving birth to a child, have died for lack of help, but 
 then that is only temporal death ; it is not eternal death, and 
 the state looks on temporal death as a very ■ small matter. 
 As you see, there are still people left behind in the country, 
 in spite of the great numbers that have been killed and who 
 have fled the country. It was formerly believed that the 
 strength of an empire consisted in its population, but that 
 fallacy is now exploded. The Jesuits have proved that a 
 state can not fail to be prosperous if the king's confessor is 
 a Jesuit, and if the state is respectfully submissive to the will 
 of Rome." 
 
 "I see," said Ambroise. "So the kingdom of England 
 must necessarily perish, and the English can never gain the 
 victory over us." 
 
 "They have beaten us, it is true, latterly," said the apoth- 
 ecary, "but that was to punish us for our sins, and to prevent 
 us from falling into that sinful pride which they exhibit 
 
20 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 after their victories. His Holiness, the pope, tells us that, 
 if they triumph on the earth, we shall triumph in heaven." 
 
 Ambroise had met with so many rebuffs during the day 
 that he began to feel extremely exhausted. He was so 
 oppressed by the difficulties that surrounded him, and so 
 preoccupied with his own gloomy thoughts, that he hardly 
 listened to the apothecary's further remarks, and walked 
 out of the store with less politeness than he had entered. 
 He went home greatly perplexed as to what he could do. 
 "Well, never mind," said he to himself, "I must not be dis- 
 couraged. Maybe there are still two or three professions 
 left. Who knows but what there may be still some means 
 left to live in the world without being either a physician, 
 or surgeon, or accoucheur, or apothecary, or lawyer, or 
 procurator, or notary, or sheriff's officer, or sergeant, or 
 bailiff's man, or purveyor to the king, or director, or comp- 
 troller, or clerk, or constable, or servant, or steward of ec- 
 clesiastical property, etc., etc., etc. 
 
 Poor Ambroise and his coreligionists were in a bad case. 
 It is true that to admit a Protestant to the right to marry, 
 or to enter into any of the prohibited callings, all that was 
 necessary was to comply with some Catholic rite, which 
 compliance might be attested by witnesses who were often 
 most unscrupulous, and a certificate of orthodoxy could be 
 purchased at very small cost. But the sad consequence of 
 such a condition of things was that all the places, the honors, 
 the rights of citizenship, all places of public confidence and 
 responsibility, were available to the Protestant who violated 
 his conscience, or for those who considered all religious 
 observance as unmeaning ceremony, whilst the man of 
 tender conscience, or of soul too lofty to stoop to even the 
 shadow of a falsehood, was the man who had to bear the 
 penalty of his integrity. His nobility of soul was the cause 
 of his being dealt with as a criminal. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Our young Cevenol slept very little that night. He lay 
 awake trying to solve the difficult question of the choice of 
 a profession. Amongst the few careers which remained 
 open to him he seemed most disposed to the military profes- 
 sion. As soon as his mother began to stir, he went into her 
 room and told her of all his disappointments of the previous 
 day, and the embarrassment in which he found himself as to 
 the choice of a profession. He asked her what she thought 
 about the army, and whether he might not, with wisdom and 
 courage, in the profession of arms, succeed in obtaining pro- 
 motion. At any rate, the army was not closed against Prot- 
 estants. 
 
 "I hope, my son," said his mother, "that in the choice 
 of a profession you will do nothing without consulting me. 
 I want to leave you perfectly free to make your own choice, 
 but you have need of my experience. It is advice, not com- 
 mands, that I would give you. Whilst it is perfectly true 
 that the military profession is not directly forbidden to Prot- 
 estants, yet the king has made it known that he proposes to 
 reserve his favors for Catholics alone. Now, as the favors 
 of a prince ought never to be other than acts of justice and 
 rewards for service, it is as though he had declared that he 
 does not intend to reward the services of his Protestant 
 subjects. You see, therefore, that, in the army, you could 
 never expect any promotion, and, as a matter of fact, the 
 Protestant officers who are now in the army are all languish- 
 ing in subordinate positions. The way they have been 
 
 treated has resulted in disgusting them with the service 
 
 21 
 
22 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 altogether, and this, added to the persecution of their people, 
 has led many of them to flee into foreign countries which 
 now can boast several regiments composed exclusively of 
 valiant Frenchmen." 
 
 [The translator of this story, not willing to trouble his 
 readers with footnotes, will, from time to time, embody in 
 the text occasional valuable items not found in the original 
 text. At this point, for instance, the French editor of the 
 work has made the following remark: "How many brave 
 soldiers, highly educated engineers, good officers, great 
 captains, have passed over to the enemy and carried with 
 them their tribute of valor and skill ! Such, for instance, 
 as the Schombergs, the Galloways, the Chanclos, the 
 Deshayes, the Dumoulins, the Ligoniers, and many others. 
 How many people, born for other callings, have been forced 
 to abandon them, and, in despair, have turned against their 
 country. To be just, v/e can not altogether blame them for 
 the evils they have done. Does not the blame belong rather 
 to those who robbed them of their goods and their honors 
 and tortured their bodies?"] 
 
 The good mother, resuming her advice to her son, said: 
 "You must also take into account, ray dear boy, the in- 
 evitable unpleasantnesses with your comrades and the dis- 
 putes in which you would surely be involved on the score 
 of your religion. The folly of the Government in perse- 
 cuting the Protestants has again aroused the social animosi- 
 ties that had almost died out. The question of personal 
 interest would occasionally come in to embitter the situation. 
 You would find comrades mean enough to take advantage of 
 your religion to secure their own advancement at your ex- 
 pense. And,' again, remember, my son, if you enter the 
 service, you must make up your mind some day to be the 
 perpetrator of the atrocities that have brought desolation 
 to your own unfortunate family. You have seen the king's 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 23-. 
 
 soldiers inundate this province. The day will come when 
 you may be put in garrison in these desolated cantons, a, 
 barbarous superior officer will take a pleasure in command- 
 ing you to execute cruel orders against your own brothers ; 
 you could not execute them without groaning. You, a 
 brave man, would be sent against unarmed people ; you 
 would have to do duty as constable and executioner. You 
 would see your fellow-soldiers (who ought to have no other 
 task than to repel the enemies of their country) rage in their 
 fury against old men, women and children. You would be 
 forced to be a witness of these barbarities, and, as you turn 
 away with a sigh, you would say : Tt is thus that I formerly 
 saw my own family tormented ; it was to such evils as these 
 that my own venerable father succumbed.' " 
 
 Ambroise could no longer endure the awful vision that 
 his mother's words conjured up before his imagination. He 
 cried out and begged his mother to say no more, and pro- 
 tested vehemently that at once and forever he renounced all 
 thought of military service; "but tell me what to do," said 
 he. "You see my embarrassment. Several times I have 
 entertained the thought of leaving my ungrateful country,, 
 but the thought of leaving you here alone in this proscribed 
 land has always turned me from that purpose ; my troubles 
 seem lighter when I share them with you ; voices not un- 
 worthy bid me go, but others even more noble bid me stay." 
 
 The mother replied: "If you possess that courage that 
 is so necessary to persons that are in an unfortunate posi- 
 tion, you would feel that every profession is honorable to 
 the man that pursues it honorably." 
 
 "I know," said Ambroise, "that I shall have to lower my 
 ambitions, and it will cost me something to do it; but, if I 
 keep my religion and my conscience, I shall have gained 
 everything. Unfortunates such as we can not afford to 
 indulge in dreams of ambition ; let me but live to to be your 
 
24 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 consolation, for that from now. shall be my highest ambi- 
 tion." 
 
 "That is the reply I expected of you, my dear boy. Yes, 
 you will have to take to some trade, and in your choice you 
 must consult your circumstances and your conscience. You 
 
 know M. de S ; he is a friend to us ; ask his advice, and, 
 
 whatever happens, never lose sight of your duty to God, to 
 your religion and to the most loving of mothers." 
 
 Ambroise went out to consult his friend, who very much 
 astonished him by informing him that there was hardly any 
 respectable profession that was not forbidden to Protes- 
 tants. They could not be either printers or booksellers or 
 goldsmiths, and as for the manual trades, they also were 
 forbidden, although in an indirect manner. He would find 
 it difficult to find an artisan who would be willing to take a 
 Protestant as an apprentice, for the ordinances were very 
 severe on that point. Protestant artisans were forbidden to 
 take apprentices of their own sect, and it was presumed 
 that young Protestants would not be willing to enter into 
 the service of a Catholic master. 
 
 "Explain to me, I beg you," said Ambroise, "the reason 
 of all these unjust laws. I can not believe that the king 
 knows of all these iniquities, and that, of his own free will, 
 he issues proclamations restraining the liberties of his sub- 
 jects, reducing them to beggary and compelling them to 
 leave the country." 
 
 "I will tell you," replied his friend. "As a matter of 
 fact, the king does not know half the cruelties that are com- 
 mitted in his name, and maybe he closes his eyes to the 
 injustice of the other half. It is unfortunate for him that 
 he knows so little of the true interests of his people, and 
 that he does not realize that, in permitting these useless out- 
 rages, he is in fact casting dishonor on one of the most 
 glorious reigns known to history, and that he is causing the 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 25 
 
 wealth and glory of his country to pass over to the enemy. 
 But what is most deplorable of all is that, whilst the whole 
 of Europe clearly sees that the Jesuits are the authors of 
 all these vexations, our king is so blind that he can not 
 perceive it." 
 
 Ambroise joined with his friend in deploring the weak- 
 ness of kings and the misfortunes of the people. "Must I, 
 then," he asked, "be deprived of a trade and die of starva- 
 tion, in order that the Jesuits may gain control of all the 
 known world?" 
 
 "All resources are not closed against you," said his 
 friend ; "the way of commerce is still open to you. Mon- 
 seigneur de Louvois has evidently overlooked that, and I 
 . can foresee that the Protestants — unfortunate and ruined 
 as they are to-day — will one day cause the towns and the 
 provinces where they settle to flourish and prosper. Com- 
 merce is honest and useful. It may be that you will be able 
 some day in business to make good the losses which a hard 
 persecution has inflicted upon you." 
 
 Acting on the advice of his friend, Ambroise engaged 
 himself with a business man, to whom he greatly endeared 
 himself by his conduct and his agreeable manners. 
 
 The prophecy of Ambroise's friend has been fulfilled. 
 Protestants saved the business of France. The principal 
 merchants of Bordeaux, Lyons and Marseilles, the most 
 famous bankers of Paris, are Protestants. Protestants are 
 carrying on the finest silk manufactories of Languedoc. 
 These useful and oppressed subjects applied themselves to 
 industry all over the kingdom, whilst their brothers who 
 took refuge in England contributed to carry to perfection 
 their art in the land of their exile, so that the foreign pro- 
 ductions soon became the object of our emulation and envy. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 We have seen how devotedly attached to her rehgion 
 was the mother of young Ambroise. This devoted attach- 
 ment to reUgioiis opinions has been called fanaticism. And, 
 as a matter of fact, can anything be more absurd than not 
 to change one's opinion when invited to do so by a brigade 
 of cavalry or by a troop of dragoons? It is the easiest 
 thing in the world to adopt a sentiment utterly opposed to 
 one entertained for forty or fifty years, and it is as clear 
 as day that, although nature, governments and education 
 may have contributed to make us see things in a different 
 light, a prince has only to lift his finger in order that a 
 hundred million subjects, if he have so many, should 
 straightway think just as he does. According to Bayle, 
 an ancient poet has said: "The gods make use of men as 
 balls to play tennis with." The kings of England appear 
 to do the same thing with the souls of their subjects, for, 
 last century, within the space of thirty years, they changed 
 the state religion four times. 
 
 The editor of the edition from which this translation 
 is made adds to the foregoing sarcasm a little sarcasm of 
 his own, when he says : "A writer as celebrated as Bayle 
 calls attention to the same fact, thus : 'When we study 
 closely the history of this great kingdom (England), and 
 particularly the most recent reigns, and observe how easily 
 grown kings, young princes and queens have overturned 
 and established religions, and when we consider the incred- 
 ible facility with which Henry VHL, Edward VL, Mary 
 and Elizabeth overturned the religion of the people again 
 
 and again, one can not but blame the people for being too 
 26 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 27 
 
 submissive, for thus placing both their faith and their con- 
 science under the yoke.' It appears that this writer did 
 not think, as do others of his own church, that the people 
 ought to submit their consciences to the will of a prince. 
 And yet observe, dear reader, that it is a churchman who 
 thus speaks, none other than the great Bossuet, in his 
 funeral oration on the death of the queen of England." 
 Here the translator would like to add his remark. Bossuet 
 in his statement betrays a very inadequate conception of 
 the real attitude of EngHshmen towards the theological 
 vagaries of Henry VHI. It is estimated that seventy thou- 
 sand Englishmen and Englishwomen surrendered their 
 lives rather than their consciences during the reign of 
 Henry, and during the short reign of his daughter Mary 
 so many were martyred for conscience' sake as to brand 
 that queen with the title of "Bloody Mary." It is quite re- 
 markable how clearly the Papist can grasp the principle of 
 the divine right of the freedom of the human conscience 
 when he fancies it tells in his favor, but how utterly blind 
 he is to it when it applies to one not a member of the 
 Church of Rome! Protestants were being persecuted in 
 France at the very time that Bossuet was blaming the 
 English people for being too submissive to their kings in 
 the matter of religion; yet there does not appear to be on 
 record a single word of protest from Bossuet against the 
 cruel persecutions by his own church and right under his 
 nose. 
 
 But we will now return to our story. According to this 
 incontestible principle- — the right of a king to coerce the 
 consciences of his subjects — it is very evident that the 
 prince has a perfect right to hang everybody who clings to 
 opinions and prejudices they imbibed with their mother's 
 milk. Obstinacy of opinion is, according to the doctrine 
 of divine right, a crime punishable with death. I am very 
 
28 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 glad to be able to state these unquestionable principles, be- 
 cause by them alone can the laws be justified about which 
 I am going to speak. Otherwise one might be misled 
 by a weak compassion or by some compunctions on the 
 score of justice. There are a good many tender-hearted 
 and justice-loving people nowadays who otherwise might be 
 misled. 
 
 Ambroise had brothers and sisters younger than him- 
 self, and the mother, seeing her success in educating her 
 eldest son, devoted herself with increasing ardor to the 
 education of the others. This education was necessarily 
 limited to such teaching as she could give them at home, 
 and had for its main object their training to become good 
 citizens and to teach them the same principles which she 
 herself held to be so dear. There was a certain old man 
 who lived in that part of the country — Claude Upokrites 
 by name — who held a fine office. His duty was to denounce 
 people who stubbornly held to their own opinions and to 
 hand them over to the executioner. His honest rewards 
 came out, of the spoils from his victims. Full of holy 
 avarice, this charitable inquisitor hunted up delinquents 
 with great zeal, and, owing to the auspicious character of 
 the country in which he operated, there was no lack of op- 
 portunity for him to display his great zeal. He was not 
 slow to perceive that Ambroise's mother sent none of her 
 children either to the school or to the mass, and that, in 
 these respects, she was violating the king's ordinances. He 
 caused her to be condemned to pay the fines prescribed in 
 the king's declarations. The mother paid them gladly, 
 happy thus to be able to purchase the right to educate 
 her own children. But these fines were repeated and cruel- 
 ly increased from time to time, terribly dissipating her 
 little possessions. The superiors of religious establish- 
 ments, irritated by the stubborn resistance of this woman, 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 29 
 
 had recourse to the king's edict which appHed to her case. 
 There was an edict which declared that widows who per- 
 sisted in the "So-called Reformed Religion" a month after 
 the publication of the decree should be deprived of all 
 power to dispose in any way of their property, which 
 should pass to their Catholic children, if they had any 
 such, or, if they had not, to the nearest hospitals. "That 
 is just the decree for this case," exclaimed the triumphant 
 Upokrites ; and soon the edict was executed. They took 
 away from the mother the right to manage her own prop- 
 erty, granting to her a pension barely sufficient to live upon, 
 and, conformably with the other edict of the king, all her 
 children were taken from her. They were shut up in con- 
 vents in distant towns, where they were so well instructed 
 and catechized and so regularly flogged, as to give ground 
 for the hope that, in the course of a few years, they would 
 make good Catholics. It is true that, on coming out of 
 the convent, they fled into foreign countries ; but at least 
 the church had done what it could and had nothing to re- 
 proach itself for. 
 
 The desolate widow of the unfortunate Hyacinthe 
 Borely ate the bread of tears and groaned night and day at 
 the loss of her children. She was reduced to live in a mis- 
 erable hovel with a few poor articles of furniture. She 
 had but one consolation: that was to see Ambroise, who 
 devoted to her all the time he could spare from his business. 
 A new grief came to further crush her broken heart. 
 Amongst her children was a beautiful little boy whom they 
 had named Benjamin. Like the son of Jacob, he was the 
 darling of his parents. This child was only seven and a 
 half years old. He had been taken away with the others 
 and placed in a convent six miles away from where his 
 mother dwelt. Upokrites conceived the marvelous project 
 of inducing this child to embrace the Catholic religion. 
 
30 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 They made a great favorite of him at the convent; they 
 gave him candies and pictures, and the httle Benjamin, in 
 the presence of a great crowd of the faithful, abjured his 
 errors with such deep contrition that it brought tears to the 
 eyes of all beholders, after which he was put in possession 
 of his father's property. The mother, the brothers and the 
 sisters were all dispossessed, in accordance with the king's 
 edict. Upokrites was named g-uardian, and managed the 
 property with such integrity and delicate regard to the 
 feelings of the mother as can be easily imagined. The good 
 widow said with a sigh : "A child of seven is not competent 
 to make choice of a religion. Such a choice demands the 
 exercise of vigorous reasoning faculties, and v/as altogether 
 beyond the power of poor little Benjamin, who is still play- 
 ing with his toys." But she was informed that she was 
 mistaken, and that there w^as nothing more reasonable since 
 the promulgation of the king's decree that children at the 
 age of seven could abjure the "So-called Reformed Re- 
 ligion," "It is true," they admitted, "that in 1669 the king- 
 thought that children should not be permitted to abjure 
 a religion before the age of fourteen, but Pere la Chaise 
 claims now that a child of seven years has the intelligence 
 that in former days was acquired by children of thirteen 
 or fourteen years. The Jesuits also claim the same thing. 
 Besides this, need one be astonished that, in a country 
 where the vow of chastity is taken at the age of sixteen, 
 a child at the age of seven should make a vow of absolute 
 and implicit faith?" Of course there was nothing to say 
 against the declarations of the king, the assertions of 
 Claude Upokrites, and the profound arguments of Pere la 
 Chaise. The poor widow was left alone with her tears. 
 They reduced her pension and her misery was extreme, but 
 she must suffer in silence. 
 
 In connection with the decree that robbed Protestant 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 31 
 
 parents of their young children, the editor appends the fol- 
 lowing note : 
 
 "The decree is dated January 12, 1686. Was there ever 
 anything more unchristian and more tyrannical than to rob 
 parents of their children? Fatal method, perpetuated up 
 to our own days since the revocation of the Edict of 
 Nantes. All the provinces have been thus desolated, but 
 Poitou, Languedoc, Vivarais, Dauphiny, and especially the 
 diocese of Bayeux in Normandy, furnish recent examples 
 by the thousand. These executions were effected in the 
 most terrible manner and gave rise to the most awful 
 scenes. In order to intensify the horror of these captures, 
 they were usually effected in the night. Without going 
 into detail, it must suffice to give a general idea of these 
 barbarities. I will refer to just one expedition, that of 
 Sieur Houvet, cure of Athis in Normandy, and of his 
 vicars. Verger . and Grenier. Imagine these priests, fol- 
 lowed by a band of constables, flying from parish to parish, 
 besieging houses under cover of darkness, bursting the 
 doors open with axes, and filling the air with frightful yells 
 calculated to fill the boldest with terror. Imagine their 
 satellites following them, sword in hand and blasphemy 
 in their mouths, overturning and breaking everything in 
 their way until they at length find the object of their search, 
 which is destined to be the cause of many bitter tears. 
 They would pounce upon their prey with the fury of wild 
 beasts, snatching it away without giving time for dressing 
 and regardless of the despairing cries of father and mother. 
 With extreme inhumanity they repel, insult and strike the 
 unhappy father and mother, who, seeing that which they 
 hold as dearest in the world snatched away from them, are 
 emboldened by their despair to make some vain efforts to 
 save these precious objects of their tenderness and keep 
 them for their love. These abductions caused such con- 
 
32 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 sternation and aroused such alarm in all the cantons that 
 more than a thousand families fled over to England, carry- 
 ing with them whatever they could carry of their efifects 
 and money." 
 
 The following note is given respecting the law that 
 transferred the property of a Protestant father to a Cath- 
 olic child: 
 
 "By law dated June 17, 1681, Louis XIV. permitted the 
 abjuration of children of seven years of age. He gave 
 them authority to leave their parents' home and to enter 
 action at law with their father, in order to oblige him to 
 pay the child a pension. The law supposed, therefore, that 
 a child of seven years is competent to choose between two 
 religions which are subjects of dispute between the most 
 learned theologians of Europe. The law permitted a child 
 of seven to withdraw himself from his father's authority. 
 A father ran the risk of losing his child forever if, by 
 some needful severity in correcting his vicious tendencies, 
 he aroused in the soul of the child a momentary spite. It 
 is in such a way that the instigators of these laws disre- 
 garded the dictates of natural religion and the promptings 
 of instinct." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 One day when Ambroise was sitting at home with his 
 mother, a friend entered. From the troubled look upon his 
 face one could see at once that he was the bearer of evil 
 tidings. Indeed, he had come as bearer of the sad 
 intelligence that Ambroise's uncle had been arrested and 
 taken to prison, and that, to all appearances, he would be 
 condemned to the galleys. This uncle was an honest man 
 who, at a time when many others were abjuring their Prot- 
 estant faith, had yielded like the rest. He had had four 
 drummers quartered on him, who sought his conversion by 
 beating the drums at all hours of the day and night at his 
 bedside, where he lay sick. For forty-eight hours he held 
 out against this new species of torture; then they tried an 
 improvement on their method. They procured a big tin 
 boiler which they put over the sick man's head and ham- 
 mered on it constantly. They would look at their patient 
 from time to time to see the effect of these arguments, and 
 if the conversion was progressing satisfactorily. At length 
 they had the satisfaction of seeing that the drum argument 
 had proved efficacious. The uncle of Ambroise, worn out 
 with fatigue, promised to sign his abjuration, which he did 
 with a trembling hand and then fainted away. 
 
 From that day the new convert was no longer troubled, 
 
 since a signature so willingly given demonstrated, in the 
 
 most satisfactory manner, that he was a good Catholic; but 
 
 the poor man himself suffered such remorse on account of 
 
 what he called his "fall" that he wept tears of penitence 
 
 the rest of his days. The gentle Upokrites, whose official 
 3 . 33 
 
34 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 position authorized him to poke his nose into everybody's 
 business, entertained a pious grudge against this man, be- 
 cause his conduct gave no occasion for inflicting a fine. 
 Upokrites had several complaints against him. It was a 
 common practice in those happy days for the curate and the 
 Upokrites of the parish to go visiting on Fridays and Sat- 
 urdays among the suspected families, to find out if they 
 were eating meat, and sometimes Ambroise's uncle had been 
 found in fault. It is true that, as his health was delicate, 
 he had procured a doctor's certificate, and therefore he 
 could not lawfully be fined. There was another glorious 
 custom, worthy of the splendid times in which our Cevenol 
 lived. They would visit the homes of recent converts to the 
 Church of Rome to take away their religious books. This 
 ceremony was performed with military pomp, in order to 
 show what soldiers were capable of doing. The drums 
 were beaten all over the town, soldiers were picketed at the 
 street crossings, and, after the search, the books that had 
 been found were burned in the public square. People who 
 were found to have concealed their books of devotion were 
 punished severely, and good Catholics were so touched with 
 the thought of these benevolent expeditions that they 
 prayed God that the soldiers might find a large number of 
 delinquents. The grievance that Upokrites had against 
 Ambroise's uncle was not that he found in his house any 
 religious books, but that he did not find any; for it must 
 be confessed that the honest man had some faults, and that 
 he was somewhat too eager for plunder. The hope of con- 
 fiscations and fines made him capable of any meanness. 
 Chance, which has now been proved to govern the world 
 with so much intelligence, this time favored the holy greed 
 of Upokrites. Some one happened to speak in his presence 
 of the peculiarities of the uncle of Ambroise, and of his 
 quiet, retired life, and declared that he was as much Prot- 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 35 
 
 estant as ever, and that he had heard him express vieep re- 
 gret for his abjuration. The gentle Upokrites, who always 
 had the laws against heretics at his finger-ends, asked the 
 speaker, in a careless sort of manner, who was with him 
 when he heard these things. The speaker named two or 
 three well-known persons. The triumphant Upokrites 
 thereupon concocted a scheme which he straightway began 
 to put in execution. 
 
 Here it becomes necessary to inform the reader of a 
 remarkable decree of the king that bears the date of the 
 22d of March, 1690. This law forbids the new converts, 
 who have once abjured the "So-called Reformed Religion," 
 to dare to say that they are sorry for having done it, and 
 this same ordinance of the king condemns to the galleys 
 any one who shall have the audacity and the temerity to 
 say that they are still Huguenots ; and, lest the slow and 
 stately march of justice should soften the severity of the 
 penalty, by delaying it, the execution of it was entrusted 
 to the Intendants. Moreover, observe, dear reader, that 
 this ordinance, for which we are doubtless indebted to that 
 holy man, Pere la Chaise, calls this retraction a crime, be- 
 cause, forsooth, it is a crime to retract when one is free 
 what one has promised when persuaded thereto by the 
 swords and pistols of dragoons. According to this ordi- 
 nance, Ambroise's uncle was guilty. Upokrites had already 
 received the deposition of the two witnesses who had over- 
 heard the remarks of the unfortunate man; and the very 
 next day Jerome Borely was torn from the bosom of his 
 family and placed in a dungeon. Such was the news that 
 was brought to Ambroise and his mother. 
 
 You will readily imagine the grief of this poor widow. 
 When a soul is cast down by sorrow, it needs only a little 
 more affliction to overwhelm it entirely. It is the last 
 stroke of the ax that brings down the oak which twenty 
 
36 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 arms have attacked. This last stroke of misfortune proved 
 too great for Ambroise's mother; it completely prostrated 
 her. As for Ambroise himself, he was in despair. "What!" 
 he cried with sobs, "my uncle, my dear uncle, my second 
 father, snatched away from us, shut up in an infected 
 dungeon and loaded with chains ! My dear uncle, the most 
 virtuous of men, condemned to pass the remainder of his 
 days with the vilest criminals, and disgraced as though he 
 were himself a criminal ! And for what, great God ! For 
 having hated hypocrisy! What worse could he have de- 
 served if, instead of being the best of men, he had been the 
 v^^orst and had dishonored his life with the most infamous 
 crimes?" The poor boy yielded to a paroxysm of tears. 
 Presently he began again to moan : "Oh, my poor uncle, 
 you will never be able to stand the fatigue of the convict- 
 gang, the violence of the sea and the detestable food! I 
 fancy I can see you, stretched on the bowsprit, your back 
 bared and near you the barbarous overseer, armed with a 
 tarred rope. How can God allow such things to be among 
 those made in his image?" 
 
 It may be necessary here to explain the frightful vision 
 that was conjured up before the imagination of young Am- 
 broise, and drove him nearly frantic with grief. So bitter 
 was the zeal of the persecutors that the Protestant prisoners 
 were treated worse than the actual criminals ; the most 
 fatiguing places and duties were allotted to them. If, at 
 the elevation of the host, when the mass was celebrated on 
 board the galleys, they did not bare their heads, they were 
 stretched naked on the bowsprit, and an overseer, armed 
 with a tarred rope, dipped in the sea-water, thrashed them 
 with all his strength. The victims' ribs resounded with the 
 violence of the strokes, and at each blow the skin was torn 
 in bleeding shreds. They then carried away the victim, 
 half dead, to the hospital, where he was cared for until he 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 37 
 
 was sufficiently healed to go through the awful experience 
 again. 
 
 No wonder the boy was haunted, wherever he went, 
 with the terrible vision of the sufferings that his good uncle 
 would have to endure as a galley-slave. This frightful 
 vision followed him wherever he went. Sometimes he in- 
 dulged the hope that, by the intercession of friends, his 
 uncle might be delivered from such a fatal destiny, and for 
 a time this hope lessened his grief. At other times, losing 
 all hope, he entertained the noble purpose of himself taking 
 his uncle's place ; for it seemed to him that his uncle was 
 more necessary than himself to his dear mother. Am- 
 broise's health was very seriously affected by these things, 
 and doubtless he would have become seriously sick, had it 
 not been for the lawyer who previously had given him good 
 advice. No one knew better than this lawyer how to 
 smooth down the holy severity of certain men, and how to 
 purchase immunity from the most terrible fate. This law- 
 3^er succeeded in delivering Jerome Borely, but it was at the 
 expense of his fortune. Upokrites had good occasion to 
 be pleased with the financial arrangements proposed by the 
 lawyer for the relief of Jerome Borely, whose family forgot 
 their poverty in the joy of the liberty of its head. This 
 joy, however, was of short duration. 
 
 Jerome Borely was working, on shares, a farm belong- 
 ing to a neighboring convent. The prior would have con- 
 sidered it a great offense if a Protestant had refused to 
 undertake such a charge. But it so happened that a royal 
 edict, dated July 9, 1685, made it illegal for a Protestant 
 to take such farms, and that for doing so a Protestant was 
 liable to a fine of one thousand livres, besides heavy law 
 expenses. Jerome Borely was attacked on this account. 
 He might have justified himself by declaring that he was 
 not a Protestant since he had abjured that faith; but his 
 
38 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 conscience would not allow him to shield himself in that 
 manner ; he would have blushed at such an infamy. It was 
 these scruples of conscience that were the cause of his un- 
 doing. His exhausted fortunes made it impossible for him 
 to pay the fatal fine, so once more he was dragged to 
 prison. For some time past he had had symptoms of dis- 
 ease; his strength gave way under this new trial, and he 
 became seriously ill. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The good Ambroise was filled with sorrow at the sad 
 condition of his uncle, and resolved, in order to deliver him, 
 to sell off a little property of which he had recently come 
 into possession. He said to himself: "My uncle is my 
 father's brother; he cared for me during my childhood. 
 When I had the misfortune to lose my dear father, my 
 poor uncle mingled his tears with ours, and in the end he 
 dried ours. He has fed me with bread from his own table. 
 Now I have the power, I ought to repay to him the benefits 
 I have received from him." Reasoning thus, Ambroise be- 
 gan to seek for a purchaser for his little property. His 
 great anxiety to sell caused quite a number of particular 
 friends to come forward with offers to purchase the prop- 
 erty for one-half of its real value. Ambroise was himself 
 so honest and sincere that he did not suspect that these 
 pretended friends were just taking advantage of the sit- 
 uation, and he concluded a bargain with one of them, 
 indulging the hope of soon seeing his uncle and of embrac- 
 ing him a thousand times. He was too joyful to sleep that 
 night, and very early next morning he knocked at the door 
 of a notary, asking with imxpatience to see the man of the 
 law immediately on very pressing business. The notary, 
 supposing that he was wanted in haste to draw up the will 
 of a dying man, muttered a thousand maledictions on the 
 profession that compelled him to sleep v/ith his eyes open, 
 the dying man who sent to disturb his slumbers, and the 
 messenger who came after him. This thought, however, 
 
 occupied only a portion of the intellectual fibers during the 
 
 39 
 
40 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 process of regaining full use of his mental faculties. The 
 other part of his half -awake faculties, long accustomed to 
 respond with alacrity when his financial interests were 
 concerned, urged him to dress with haste, lest the messenger 
 might apply to another notary in the neighborhood, of 
 which he was jealous. In the twinkling of an eye he had 
 put on an old dressing-gown, and, rushing to the stairs, 
 he appeared to Ambroise, with one foot in a slipper, the 
 other in a shoe, and a large inkhorn in his hand. 
 "Well, my friend, what is it? Is he very sick?" 
 "Ah, sir, worse than I can tell you. His condition 
 lareaks my heart. Ah, my poor uncle, when shall I see 
 him at rest?" 
 
 "For a nephew," said the notary, "you appear to be 
 very much concerned. Well, tell me, have you consulted 
 him?" 
 
 "I, sir, consult him? No, I want him to know nothing 
 about it. I want to surprise him." 
 
 "But, my friend, he is the party interested; he must 
 know." 
 
 "Ah, yes, of course, he will know when the thing is 
 done, when he will be no longer in a position to raise any 
 objection, when I shall be in a position to compel him to 
 consent to sacrifices that he would never allow if I con- 
 sulted him." 
 
 The notary began to think that he was talking either to 
 a rascal or a madman, and it was not without considerable 
 explanations that Ambroise succeeded in getting the notary 
 to understand his intentions. He could not help admiring 
 the generous disposition of the young man, and promised 
 to register the contract for the sale as soon as Ambroise 
 procured the necessary permission. 
 
 "What permission?" asked Ambroise; "I am of age. 
 My father is dead ; I am only too free." 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 41 
 
 "Are you not a Protestant?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I am, but what has that to do with the sac- 
 rifices that I propose to make on my uncle's behalf?" 
 
 "It has this much to do, that you can not dispose of 
 your property without a permission from the Intendant ; 
 that is, for properties up to the value of three thousand 
 livres: for properties of greater value, the permission of 
 the court is necessary. Now, your property being worth 
 from four to five thousand livres, you will have to apply 
 to the sub-delegate, who will write to the Intendant, who 
 will reply to the sub-delegate, who will communicate the 
 reply to you, and you will then know whether you are at 
 liberty to dispose of your own property. It is true that, 
 before you receive the information, your uncle will be dead, 
 in all probability. It is also possible that, if the sub- 
 delegate is not very favorably disposed towards you, his 
 reply may not be satisfactory, or that your own relatives, 
 in order to prevent you from alienating property on which 
 they have cast their eyes, may write some anonymous 
 letters to frustrate your purpose. There are also many 
 other things that might happen, but these are the little 
 annoyances that a good citizen will suffer with patience 
 because of the great good and honor that he personally 
 derives from the state. For you ought to understand, my 
 dear Ambroise, that when citizens are thus annoyed in 
 their affairs it is really good for them, and that the 
 happiness of an empire consists in this, that the subjects 
 should become fully persuaded that the free possession of 
 their property is nothing more than a chimera." 
 
 The notary was proceeding to discourse at great length, 
 when he perceived the tears starting into the eyes of Am.- 
 broise as he made a thousand lamentations for his un- 
 fortunate uncle, whom he seemed to mourn as though he 
 were already dead. The notary did the best he could to 
 
42 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 console the young man, and did in fact succeed in comfort- 
 ing him to some degree, for the heart of an unfortunate is 
 always open to hope. Ambroise decided to see the sub- 
 delegate, who lived twelve miles away. He went, but 
 found that the sub-delegate had left the previous day for 
 Montpellier, and that he would not return before the end 
 of the week. On learning this, the young Cevenol was 
 extremely depressed, but what use is it to struggle against 
 destiny? One murmurs, but one submits all the same. 
 Everybody who saw the unhappy Ambroise, advised him 
 to exercise patience, to await the return of the sub-delegate 
 and to hope in Providence. After well considering the 
 situation, he came to the conclusion that that was the best 
 thing that he could do. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 As Ambroise awaited the end of the longest week he 
 had ever known, he sought a rehef for his sorrow by- 
 making frequent visits to his uncle, the unhappy cause of it. 
 His mind was possessed but with one single idea, the deliv- 
 erance of his uncle. A famous lawyer lived in the little 
 town, and Ambroise made up his mind to consult this 
 eminent man. "I will see for myself," said he, "this 
 declaration of the king; who knows, perhaps there may be 
 some way of evading it and of saving the life of my uncle?" 
 The lawyer confirmed all that the notary had said, and 
 convinced Ambroise that he would be unable to find a 
 purchaser for his property, since the law was as severe 
 against the purchaser as against the vendor. 
 
 "But," objected Ambroise, "if this law takes away 
 from me the right to sell my property, it can not absolve 
 me from paying my debts." 
 
 "No," replied the lawyer, "but you would have to 
 furnish legal proof of your indebtedness." 
 
 "Ah, sir, my uncle has kept no accounts of my indebted- 
 ness to him, but they are written on my heart, and, if he has 
 forgotten the benefits with which he has overloaded me, 
 that is all the greater reason why I should remember them." 
 
 "That is proof of the goodness of your heart, but good- 
 ness of heart does not constitute a legal claim for per- 
 mission to sell one's property. In this respect an honest 
 Huguenot is less forttmate than a rascal who has the good 
 luck to be a Catholic." 
 
 "At least, if I am not able to sell my property, I can 
 
 43 
 
44 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 give it away; and, so far as I am concerned, that amounts 
 to pretty much the same thing ; for I imagine that with this 
 little property it would be no very difficult thing to persuade 
 M. Upokrites and his friends to dispense with the usual 
 formalities." 
 
 "No, my dear Ambroise, the law stands in your way 
 again, and it forbids a gift of real estate between persons; 
 thus, you are able to buy as much as you like, but you can 
 not sell, and I do not see any other way for you to sell your 
 property than by getting the necessary permission." 
 
 Ambroise could not conceive it possible that there should 
 be a law forbidding him to be grateful. "What!" said he; 
 "I have some property; I wish to give it away to another 
 because I do not care to keep it any longer, and I am not 
 allowed by law to do it! This is strange indeed!" 
 
 The lawyer then explained to him that the object of 
 this law was to prevent the newly converted from escaping 
 out of the kingdom. 
 
 "So the king knows that we are in a miserable con- 
 dition," said Ambroise, "since he is afraid of our running 
 away ; but would it not be a wiser thing for him to seek to 
 retain by benefits rather than by fear? And what is more, 
 sir, it is impossible to keep people here by force. When 
 once we become convinced that our country is a hard and 
 cruel mother who banishes us from her bosom, one quits 
 her without a sigh, in order to flee to a kinder one who will 
 be a benefactor instead of a persecutor. Liberty is price- 
 less, and though it cost our whole fortune to purchase it, 
 the price is not too great. I understand nothing about law, 
 but it seems to me that no law can oblige a subject to re- 
 main in a country where he is not happy. If the king 
 orders me to stay in a country, and nature, that abhors 
 suffering, orders me to leave It, I may respect the king, 
 but I shall certainly obey the dictates of nature." 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 45 
 
 "You are right," agreed the lawyer. "I might even 
 observe that this law, that forbids Protestants to sell their 
 property without permission, is open to many other objec- 
 tions. It frightens the subject, because it makes him feel 
 that the state is but one vast prison for him, from which 
 he can not escape, and in that way it destroys the con- 
 sciousness of liberty, which is the mainspring of industry. 
 It reminds us too forcibly of our chains, which the author- 
 ities would do well to conceal with flowers. It discourages 
 the acquisition of real estate and destroys the confidence 
 of the subject, who should be encouraged to engage in 
 industry by the assurance that he is working for himself 
 and for his children. It disturbs a large multitude of fam- 
 ilies who have to sell a part of their possessions in order 
 to save the rest from being completely wrecked. I know 
 but one way," continued the lawyer, "of selling your 
 property ; but it will take long and the costs will be heavy." 
 
 "Never mind the costs ; never mind the costs," quickly 
 cried Ambroise; "provided I have a thousand livres left 
 with which to pay my uncle's fine and his expenses, I shall 
 be satisfied." 
 
 He insisted so strongly that it was agreed between them 
 to arrange it in the manner suggested by the lawyer. An 
 indebtedness of three or four thousand livres on the part 
 of Ambroise was assumed, a writ was issued against his 
 property, at the cost of about three hundred livres, and the 
 domain was sold off cheap, as the domain of a bankrupt, 
 so that when Ambroise had paid his uncle's fine and the 
 law costs, the procurators and the lawyers, there was nothing 
 at all left for himself; but he had his uncle, and that was 
 enough for him. Poor Jerome Borely was taken out of 
 the prison, but, in addition to the maladies from which he 
 was sufifering when confined, he had there contracted a 
 rheumatism which tormented him to the end of his days. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Ambroise went on his way home with bowed head and 
 downcast eyes, and walked along as one in deep thought. 
 He was rudely awakened from his reverie by the frightful 
 bowlings of a mob. He went in the direction of the noise, 
 to see what might be the cause of the tumult. Soon he 
 caught sight of a crowd of constables, soldiers, priests, 
 magistrates, and, in the midst of them, the executioner, 
 who was dragging through the mud a naked corpse covered 
 with filth and wounds. The head of the corpse was dis- 
 figured beyond all recognition by the blows from sticks and 
 stones which were constantly rained upon it. Ambroise 
 had no need to ask what it was all about, or the meaning 
 of the insults hurled against the Huguenots, and the oft- 
 repeated cries: "Well done, well done; they should all be 
 served like this ; they ought all to be hanged or burned." 
 He could well understand that it was one of his Huguenot 
 brethren who, upon his death-bed, had refused to take the 
 sacrament from a Romish priest. Excited by this spectacle, 
 the populace threw mud and stones against the houses and 
 the stores of the Huguenots, and chased those who were 
 unfortunate enough to be found by them on the streets. 
 One might have supposed that an insurrection had broken 
 out in the town, or that it had been delivered over to pillage 
 by a victorious foe. Ambroise started to escape, but he was 
 speedily recognized and could not get away quickly enough 
 to escape sundry blows. He lost his cap, his face was 
 covered with mud, and his coat was torn to rags, when 
 
 happily he found a passage with a door which he slammed 
 46 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 47 
 
 behind him, and thus escaped from his pursuers. The 
 house where Ambroise had taken refuge faced the open 
 square, and several persons had come there to witness the 
 edifying spectacle. It was not without pain and fear that 
 he heard the bursts of laughter and the jokes of the lookers- 
 on. They pained him to his heart. In order to avoid hear- 
 ing them, he went back down the passage-way and soon 
 found himself in a very obscure place. A short distance 
 from him two men were walking up and down the garden, 
 engaged in a warm discussion. One was a Jesuit, robed in 
 black, and the other was the master of the house. They 
 were talking about the tumult going on in the street; 
 Ambroise did not lose a word, and this is what he heard: 
 
 "You must admit," contended the master of the house, 
 "that it is cruel to be obliged to change opinion and to 
 pretend, during the whole of one's life, to believe what one 
 does not indeed believe in the bottom of one's heart. I 
 am not at all surprised that, in the last moments of life, 
 when one has no longer anything to fear, when one is no 
 longer controlled by worldly interests and by the pleasures 
 of a life of ease, a dying man who has no longer any reason 
 to prevaricate should make confession of his real faith. 
 For the life of me, I can not blame him. In our religion, 
 I would rather have but a small number of true believers 
 and be sure of them than to gain two or three million hypo- 
 crites !" 
 
 "Good," replied the Jesuit, "but what does it matter 
 what these people believe in the bottom of their hearts, pro- 
 vided only that the king is persuaded of their conversion 
 and that they go to mass? You are right enough in sup- 
 posing that they are unwilling converts, and no doubt the 
 king himself has his suspicions of the shams, for it is un- 
 doubtedly true that the large majority of them are con- 
 verted only by force or for worldly reasons; but anyway, 
 
48 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 they are in the fold of the church; we have done our duty; 
 now it is God's business to convince them," 
 
 "That is to say, reverend father, that all this violence, 
 massacres and punishments have resulted in manufacturing 
 a great number of hypocrites. That is a dear way of 
 buying bad subjects, and I frankly avow to you that I 
 prefer a good Protestant to a bad Catholic." 
 
 "If the fathers are hypocrites, sir, the children will be 
 true believers." 
 
 'T very much doubt that, reverend father, for men are 
 never so much attached to their opinions as when they find 
 an attempt made to force them to abandon them. We 
 naturally suspect that those who would force us to adopt 
 their belief have no better arguments to support their 
 creed. The very violence that they use to force their creed 
 upon us becomes a proof of the superiority of our own 
 belief. People become, therefore, the more attached to 
 their religion by the very means adopted to force them to 
 abandon it. And do you not suppose that, in the secrecy 
 of the home, the parents will teach to their children the 
 religion they themselves have never, in their hearts, for- 
 saken? Take, for instance, this unfortunate fellow whose 
 corpse is to-day dragged through the mud ; he knew the 
 fate that awaited him ; he knew the shameful character 
 of the proceedings, and yet the force of conviction 
 prompted him to brave it all." 
 
 "Ah, well!" replied the black-robed Jesuit, "this ex- 
 ample will be a warning to others, and, even though we 
 may not be successful, we are sure that exploits like these 
 from time to time will keep alive among the people a 
 social hatred that will produce the happiest results. For 
 instance, it is now more than a month that popular feeling 
 had begun to subside, tranquility had become re-established 
 and a spirit of toleration was becoming manifest; so we 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 49 
 
 begin by giving a new warning — we dig up from the grave 
 the corpse of some unfortunate and expose it to the insults 
 of the populace, or we hang a minister, or we send a 
 dozen men to the galleys, and the people are reminded 
 that there are heretics whom they must hate." 
 
 "Would it not be better, reverend father, to tolerate 
 these heretics and teach the subjects of the king to love 
 one another? For, after all — " 
 
 "No, no, sir," replied the man in black impatiently. 
 "No, indeed, our forefathers never did that, and they were 
 not barbarians ; they were very enlightened and humane 
 men, Francis I. gave us an example of the manner in 
 which the tocsin should be sounded against heretics. If 
 he had consulted a man like you, he would have tolerated 
 these so-called reformers, and perhaps the oblivion in which 
 he would have left this sect would have snuffed it out.. 
 But he went to work in a much wiser way. He gave orders 
 for a large and brilliant procession ; he himself marched at 
 the head of it, accompanied by his son, bareheaded and in a 
 very devout and humble manner ; sacred hymns were sung, 
 and with the sounds of these sacred harmonies very soon 
 mingled the shrieks of a number of obstinate heretics who 
 were burned alive. That, sir, is what I call a good and 
 vigorous policy; for you can well understand that the ex- 
 ample of such a prince made a prompt and deep impression 
 on the minds of the Parisian populace, and gave it the 
 taste for flaming stakes for a whole century." 
 
 The man in black assumed such a firm and haughty 
 tone that the master of the house took the hint and said no 
 more. It was too dangerous a thing in those fine days of 
 the brilliant century in which Louis XIV. reigned to speak 
 of humanity towards heretics ; for this humanity was itself 
 a punishable heresy. He therefore pretended to agree with 
 the ideas of the Jesuit, and the rest of the conversation was 
 
50 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 of a very peaceful character. They admired the great 
 advantage of processions, each of which is, so to speak, 
 a smah army of the saints, assembhng under the banner 
 of the parish; an army whose zeal makes it capable of 
 undertaking any enterprise. They agreed that it was 
 neither indecent nor cruel to drag a naked and bleeding 
 corpse through the streets. In this connection they cited 
 from Homer the example of Achilles ; they admired the 
 impartial policy of the Jesuits, who forced Protestants to 
 take the sacraments which they refused to the Jansenists ; 
 in an undertone they admitted that this society had never 
 accomplished a greater and more diplomatic move than the 
 expulsion of the Protestants from the country, as the 
 Protestants were expert politicians ; they observed with 
 pride that now for more than a century no one had dared 
 to raise his voice against a society so powerful, so wholly 
 without moral scruple and so unrelenting in its acts of 
 vengeance. 
 
 At this point Ambroise,hearing a noise, hastened towards 
 the door of the passage where he had found refuge. He 
 opened it cautiously and made his way back home. On 
 his way he overheard several heated conversations at the 
 street corners. A sound of voices seemed to pervade the 
 entire town, like the moaning of the sea whose waves are 
 gradually sinking to a calm after a storm. For a long time 
 afterwards people talked about the events of that day; for 
 work had been suspended as though for a public holiday. 
 In favor of such exhibitions, which our gentler manners 
 have ceased to appreciate, it was urged that they kept the 
 m.inds of men in vigorous action ; they gave a polish to 
 manners and provided frequent holidays for the people, 
 who, of course, ought not to keep at work all the time 
 
 In further illustration of the Romish practice of insult- 
 ing the dead Huguenots by dragging their corpses through 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 51 
 
 the streets, the author cites tlie following well-authenticated 
 
 cases : 
 
 In April, 1749, Daniel-Etienne de la Montagne, who had died 
 at Catenet, in Provence, and had been buried in the country, was 
 disinterred by a surgeon named Pascal Berault and others. They 
 tied a cord around the neck of the corpse, and dragged it all 
 through the village, to the sound of the drum and the flageolet. 
 The howling multitude insulted the memory of the dead man and 
 belabored the corpse with sticks ; after which they hung up the 
 corpse head downwards, cut open the body, tore out the heart and 
 entrails, and carried them around in procession, and finished up by 
 cutting the body in four quarters. These facts are attested by the 
 official report of the judge; but no one was ever punished for the 
 deed. 
 
 Claude Cabanis, a merchant of Alais, in the Cevennes, who 
 had won universal esteem by the uprightness of his character, his 
 talents and his charity, and had been a most useful citizen in the 
 commune where he had established his business, died at Levaur the 
 14th of July, 1749, and was buried at night. In spite of the vigorous 
 protests of the populace, he was disinterred at the instigation of 
 the "White Penitents" and cut to pieces. 
 
 A Protestant minister, Louis Ranc, aged twenty-five years, 
 having been executed at Die, in 1745, M. d'Audriffret, the sub-dele- 
 gate of the Intendant. together with a grand-vicar, caused the 
 dead body to be dragged through the streets, and compelled a young 
 Protestant to assist the executioner in his odious task. 
 
 The Jesuit's reasoning about the Protestants who had abjured 
 their religion to save their lives reminds the author of a passage in 
 a speech of the Jesuit Bourdaloue, who, in an address about charity 
 to the newly converted, said : 
 
 Do you not know, ladies, that there is an infinite number of 
 poor people who are in a position of special peril ? They are but 
 half converted. I say half converted because, in spite of all ex- 
 ternal demonstration and the words that they have spoken, we 
 must not suppose that everything necessary has been done, for, as 
 a matter of fact, many have only yielded to force, and, whilst being 
 Catholics outwardly, are hardly to be considered as Catholics at 
 heart. 
 
 Massillon, in a sermon on "True Worship," says: 
 
 It is thine, O Saviour, to change the inner man, to bring back 
 the hearts, to enlighten the minds of those who perhaps have sub- 
 mitted only to the arms of man; that there may be only one fold, 
 one shepherd, one heart and one soul in thy church. 
 
52 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 That is to say : "Lord, we have forced them to enter the church, 
 we have carried death into the bosom of three hundred thousand 
 families, we have leveled an irreparable blow at the state; there 
 they are within the fold, now there is nothing to do but to convert 
 them ; that is thy work alone, we all acknowledge." 
 
 With regard to the refusal of the sacrament to the Jansenists, 
 the author adds the following note : 
 
 The entire town of Melun can attest the following fact. Every- 
 body remembers the scandalous scenes that were witnessed in 
 France, and of which the Jesuits were the authors, in connection 
 with the refusal of the sacraments. The bishop of the said town 
 of Melun, Monsieur de V , a slave to Jesuitical opinions, other- 
 wise a very honest man, believing sincerely that it was not his duty 
 to yield on this point to superior orders, never wished to permit 
 
 the holy sacrament to be administered to Abbe R , a Jansenist 
 
 who was sick, and who desired the sacraments. The bishop, in 
 order to have an excuse that to his mind should be satisfactory, 
 and one that should relieve him of the necessity of formally re- 
 fusing the sacrament, instructed his vicar. Abbe L , to make 
 
 his round in all the parishes and to use up all the consecrated 
 wafers. Unfortunately, the ciboires were well supplied, and the 
 vicar, with much effort, had to eat a large number of them ; this 
 caused an attack of indigestion so serious that his physician had 
 great difficulty in curing him without an emetic. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Ambroise made good progress in his knowledge of 
 affairs. He had good business talents. Misfortune had 
 developed his character and trained him to habitual thought- 
 fulness ; thus, whilst young in years, he had a maturity of 
 character that is usually the fruit only of long experience. 
 His mother was worn with grief and the tears she had shed; 
 poverty and sorrow had furrowed her features. Her long- 
 continued anguish had brought on her a premature old age. 
 
 "My son," she would sometimes say, "I have no longer 
 any reason to love this world: my sorrows have weaned 
 my affections from it. What better use can I make of the 
 little time that remains to me than to prepare for the end 
 that is fast approaching? All the time I do not spend with 
 you I pass in meditation, in reading, in rendering to God 
 the homage which is his due, and in doing to my fellow- 
 creatures the little good that is in my power." 
 
 Ambroise was very happy to have these pleasant talks 
 with his mother, and he was never so happy as when he had 
 in some way contributed to her pleasure and peace of mind. 
 
 One evening when he went home from business he was 
 extremely surprised not to find his mother there : she had 
 gone out, the neighbors said, at nightfall, promising to be 
 back again soon. He waited for her with anxiety; this 
 anxiety increased with every moment. An oppressive sad- 
 ness made his heart ache and found vent in frequent sighs. 
 Soon he became possessed with the awful presentiment of 
 some frightful catastrophe. This was not a false present- 
 iment, for, about midnight, his mother came in, walking 
 
 53 
 
54 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 with great difficulty, and supported by one of her friends. 
 Ambroise was about to speak some words of loving re- 
 proach ; but imagine his alarm when he saw, as his mother, 
 weeping, stretched out her arms to embrace him, that she 
 was covered with blood. She fell fainting on his breast. 
 He did everything in his power to restore her to conscious- 
 ness, and at last had the happiness of seeing her open her 
 eyes and come to herself. She then told him that she had 
 been to the woods where a few persons had gathered for 
 prayer; that they had been betrayed, and that soldiers had 
 come upon them unexpectedly and had fired on them at 
 short range. One-half of the assembly was composed of 
 women and aged men, and had been massacred, and the 
 rest had been taken prisoners. Ambroise's mother had 
 been wounded by a shot beneath the ribs. Ambroise ran 
 for help to a surgeon. Ah ! what bitter tears he shed when 
 he learned that the wound was mortal, and that his dear 
 mother had but a few hours to live. But it seemed as 
 though he were doomed to drink the dregs of bitterness in 
 this hour as his mother was passing away ; for the surgeon 
 drew- him on one side and said : "I shall be compelled, sir, 
 to do my duty and inform the parish priest of the danger 
 your mother is in, in order that he may come to her with 
 spiritual help. I should be punished myself if I failed to 
 hand in the notice." 
 
 Ambroise was terrified, and sought by tears and prayers 
 to prevent the surgeon from giving in the fatal notice. 
 But the surgeon replied that the declaration of the king 
 was too explicit ; that he should render himself liable to a 
 fine of three hundred livres, and that he could not run the 
 risk of having to pay such a fine simply to do Ambroise this 
 favor. As he said this he went towards the staircase and 
 descended in great haste. 
 
 Ambroise knew what a terrible thing the arrival of the 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 55: 
 
 priest was to a dying person, for with the priest came the 
 officers of justice. Pie foresaw them with their entreaties 
 and their threats; he could imagine the drawing up of the 
 charge of heresy with brutal inconsideration under the very- 
 eyes of the dying person. This charge he knew would be all 
 the more grave because the surgeon whom he had im- 
 prudently called in would most certainly inform the priest 
 how his mother had received the mortal wound. The 
 dying woman's attachment to her religion was well known, 
 and he greatly feared that after her death his dear mother 
 might be dragged through the mud of the streets and her 
 body finally thrown on the rubbish heap. In such a 
 moment his filial piety gave him courage and a strength. 
 he could not have found under other circumstances. He 
 wrapped his mother in a sheet and carried her off on his 
 shoulders, in order to get her away from the persecutions 
 which he foresaw. The weight of his burden was such 
 that he could not go far. Finding himself in a narrow, 
 crooked street opposite the door of one of his friends, he 
 stopped there. His friend came down at the sound of the 
 bell. With tears in his eyes, Ambroise begged an asylum 
 for his dying mother ; he was even preparing to take his 
 precious burden in. But in those unhappy times each one 
 looked after himself, and fear of one's own misfortunes. 
 made one insensible to those of others. 
 
 "My dear Ambroise," said his friend to him, 'T can 
 not do you the service you ask of me. I know the laws r 
 they are severe and the officers of the law are greedy and 
 pitiless. There is a decree of the king that forbids, under 
 penalty of a fine of five hundred livres, the removal, under 
 pretext of charity, of sick persons of the pretended re- 
 formed religion. This law is unjust, I know. It treads 
 all humane considerations underfoot ; I concede all that ;" 
 but my fortune does not permit me to make such sacrifices,, 
 
■56 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 and you ought, yourself, to perceive that already your 
 staying so long at my door may prove my ruin." 
 
 This was a knock-down blow to poor Ambroise ; he 
 could hardly believe his ears. But his love for his mother 
 gave him strength, and, taking his burden up again, he 
 continued his journey. He groped his way through the 
 darkness ; yet, whilst doing this heroic act, he felt as guilty 
 as though he had committed some great crime. 
 
 In a little, obscure street that led out of the town there 
 was a deserted cottage. It was in this abandoned hovel 
 that Ambroise took refuge. His mother was overcome 
 with pain and fatigue. She was losing blood, and she 
 herself knew that her end was near. 
 
 "No, dear mother," said the son, "I can not believe that 
 Providence will snatch you from my arms in so cruel a 
 manner. Heaven is just, and it surely will not permit me 
 to lose you at a time when I so much need your help. Ah ! 
 live to be my consolation and my happiness. Allow me to 
 send this man who has followed us to beg some surgeon 
 to come and lend us his aid." 
 
 "No, no, my son, it would be useless. Let me die far 
 from those horrible men. . . . Their help, my son — 
 perhaps they would refuse to help. Have they not always 
 some royal decree to serve as a pretext for their barbarity? 
 And who knows but what, in order to refuse their help, 
 they would plead the royal declaration calling on physicians 
 to abandon a patient who, after a second visit, should refuse 
 to give up his religion? You are losing precious moments, 
 my dear son. Receive here my blessing. Remember your 
 mother. Try to take your brothers and sisters to a country 
 where you will have liberty to worship God. . . . Preserve 
 my bones from persecution by burying me in some solitary 
 place — " 
 
 The unfortunate woman's voice was failing. She beg- 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL . 57 
 
 ged her son to stay in silence by her, and, after having- 
 given about half an hour to prayer, she heaved her last sigh. 
 
 Ambroise was desolate indeed. He fondly kissed the 
 remains of the best of mothers. His tears fell freely upon 
 her. He spoke the most touching words to her, as though 
 she had heard them. In the bewilderment of his mind 
 he seemed to expect each moment that she would again open 
 her eyes to the light. The man who had accompanied 
 Ambroise was touched with the orphan's grief, and did all 
 he could to assuage the young man's sorrow. He at length 
 succeeded in dragging Ambroise away from the corpse, over 
 which they stretched the sheet they had brought. 
 
 The day had dawned. The sun shone in the deserted 
 
 cottage. Ambroise began to be afraid of the perilous 
 
 position in which he found himself. Fear came in to divert 
 
 his grief. He arranged with this man, in whom he could 
 
 trust, to go to the town and procure some provisions for 
 
 the day. Ambroise determined to watch beside his mother, 
 
 and they arranged to go at night to a distant place to bury 
 
 the dead. He was fortunate in not being discovered during 
 
 the day. When the night came, aided by some relatives and 
 
 friends, they furtively laid the remains of the good woman 
 
 to rest. They had great difficulty in tearing Ambroise from 
 
 his mother's grave, and it was only after he had exhausted 
 
 himself by long-continued weeping that he at length said 
 
 a last adieu. 
 
 Notes to Chapter X. 
 
 The edict revoking the Edict of Nantes forbade assemblies, 
 and confiscated body and goods ; the death penalty was not ex- 
 pressly decreed until the edict of July i, 1686, by Article V. of that 
 edict. An order of the 12th of March, 1689, confirms this penalty, 
 and further decrees that those who may not have been taken in the 
 act, yet who may have been known to attend Protestant assem- 
 blies, shall be sent to the galleys for life, by the military com- 
 manders or the intendants of the provinces, without any legal 
 formaHties or trial. What was the reason for this unheard-of 
 severity, this violation of the rights of citizenship? No citizen 
 
58 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 should be condemned to any penalty without a regular trial. The 
 ordinances of Louis XIV. himself had recognized this right of 
 the citizen. 
 
 Every one will admit that it was outrageous to condemn peace- 
 able citizens to the galleys — gentlemen who had even bled for their 
 country — yet condemned for no other reason than that they had 
 assembled together, and, in their own French language, had prayed 
 to God for the prosperity of the state and of the king. It was 
 therefore a cruel injustice not only to allow these orders to remain 
 in force, but to confirm them by another, dated the 14th of May, 
 1724, after sixty years of submission, untroubled by a single mur- 
 mur, had proved that French Protestants are obedient subjects and 
 faithful citizens. 
 
 These royal decrees have been the cause of the excesses com- 
 mitted by the troops. On the 17th of March, 1745, two companies 
 of the regiment of La Rochefoucauld cavalry fired into a meeting 
 in the diocese of Lavaur, where no resistance was made. One 
 hundred and twenty-three infantry soldiers did the same on the 
 21 St of the following November, near Saint-Hippolyte, in the 
 Cevennes. On the 8th of September, 1748, in the neighborhood of 
 St. Ambroix, in the diocc? of Uzes, a detachment of soldiers in- 
 sulted the v/omen and girls, tore from them their rings, their silver 
 ornaments and necklaces, took from them whatever money they 
 had, and wounded several persons. Some dragoons committed 
 similar outrages at another meeting, on the 9th of June, 1749, in 
 Dauphiny, near to Montmeyran. On the 22d of November, 1750, 
 several persons were wounded near to Uzes by 150 men of the 
 regiment of the He de France. On this occasion the soldiers made 
 three hundred prisoners who allowed themselves to be taken as 
 peaceably as lambs, although the meeting, was very large. 
 
 The decree compelling a medical attendant to give notice to 
 the parish priest of the near approach of death to a Protestant, 
 was issued through the Parliament of Toulouse, and dated the 22d 
 of June, 1699. 
 
 The decree forbidding Protestants to give shelter to their suffer- 
 ing co-religionists was an Arret du Conseil, dated 4th of September, 
 1684. Thus the sufferers were condemned to breathe the pestif- 
 erous air of the hospitals, and it was made a crime to practice the 
 virtues enjoined by the gospel of Jesus Christ. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 In ardent and vivacious souls sorrow finds vent in 
 paroxysms of violent emotions, and the very violence itself 
 is a relief. It is far otherwise with strong and sensitive 
 souls. To them a sorrow is ever present; they commune 
 with themselves alone, and in this self-communion the sor- 
 row becomes more enduring and deeper. Nature had given 
 to Ambroise this type of character ; a long series of troubles 
 had tended to strengthen his spirit and cultivated within 
 him the habit of deep reflection. He was continually re- 
 hearsing to himself the sad experiences of his life, from 
 the death of his father to the death of his mother; all the 
 "Declarations" of the king which had borne so cruelly upon 
 him and those dear to him, and which would probably con- 
 tinue to do so to the end of his days. He observed how all 
 these royal declarations stirred up a popular hatred against 
 those of his religion, and, in face of this fact and the con- 
 stant punishments that were inflicted on them, he groaned 
 inwardly. He had not forgotten his mother's dying request 
 that he would try to deliver his brothers and sisters and 
 convey them into a free country. He resolved to do his 
 utmost to accomplish this task. He was constantly, in his 
 imagination, taking flight into those happy lands where at 
 last he hoped to find liberty of conscience and rest. He had 
 seen hundreds of letters from refugees in which they ex- 
 pressed the joy they felt in finding themselves out of France. 
 The joy of these unfortunate exiles was so intense that, 
 immediately they were well over the frontier, they fell upon 
 their knees and rendered thanks to Heaven; in transports 
 
60 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 of happiness they kissed the soil of the land that gave them 
 hospitality, and, looking back to their native land, they shed 
 tears of sympathy for those who were still imprisoned there. 
 These accounts from the exiles so excited the imagination 
 of the French Protestants that they left the country by 
 hundreds and by thousands. The plows were abandoned 
 in the fields, cattle were abandoned, manufactures ceased, 
 and at length the bands of fugitives were so large that 
 neither guards nor constables nor armed peasants dared to 
 arrest their march. 
 
 Ah! what evils came on France as a consequence of 
 these forced desertions. They can never be fully estimated. 
 Not only did our country lose her most useful subjects; 
 not only were the gold, the silver and the arts of France 
 carried into other lands, but soon manufactures and business 
 generally dwindled all over the country. The reports of the 
 provincial governors bear ample testimony to fearful losses 
 that resulted from these events. 
 
 Ambroise made great efforts to induce his brothers and 
 sisters to escape from the convents in which they were con- 
 fined and to follow him into exile. He had great difficulty 
 in getting any news at all of them. It would be too long a 
 story to tell how at last he succeeded, and all he learned 
 about the manner in which they were treated. He waited 
 several months in order to give them time to make their 
 escape; but, seeing at length that his waiting was in vain, 
 he decided to take the road to the Swiss frontier and thence 
 to make his way to Holland, where he had some relatives. 
 He very readily found some traveling companions. It was 
 just at that time that the declaration of the king had been 
 republished ordering parents to have their children baptized 
 within forty-eight hours. The "converters" were very 
 zealous in carrying out this law, and the Protestants found 
 this kind of persecution most insupportable. They said the 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 61 
 
 church regards as her own the children she baptizes. One 
 day she will come and claim them and put them in convents. 
 The Protestants would never promise to bring up their 
 children in the Romish rehgion, but such a promise was re- 
 quired of every parent who permitted a child to be baptized 
 by a Romish priest. The Protestants knew very well that 
 this baptism was only a pretext for undermining the parents' 
 authority over the child. They remembered the violent 
 struggles that had been caused by this same measure some 
 years previously, when it was said that some children had 
 perished in their parents' arms in the violent endeavor of 
 the priests to snatch the child away. The alarm every- 
 where became so terrible that entire families went off into 
 exile. Whereas, previously to that time, only individuals, 
 exasperated under a sense of personal wrong, passed over 
 the frontier, now it was that fathers and mothers, wounded 
 in their most tender affections, gathered together all that 
 they could carry of their earthly goods, and, taking their 
 children with them, sought to flee the country. 
 
 In order that his flight might be the more secret and 
 sure, Ambroise joined a party of not more than a dozen 
 persons, who made their way along the most obscure roads 
 and marched only during the night, in order to avoid 
 the guards and Catholics, for all Catholics, as well as the 
 dragoons, seemed to think they had a perfect right to rob 
 and murder their fellow-countrymen. "Good citizens," they 
 said, "ought to be zealous in working for the good of 
 the country." 
 
 To this chapter the editor appends the following extract from 
 Benoit's "History o£ the Edict of Nantes," by- way of illustrating 
 the treatment accorded to Protestant children by the monks and 
 nuns in the convents : 
 
 The records of those times have preserved to us accounts of 
 the methods employed by the monks and nuns in their attempts to 
 convert the children of Protestants. They made use of pretended 
 
62 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 visions, sham miracles, curses that they said were pronounced 
 against obstmate children, promises, threats, rewards, punishments, 
 imprisonments, fasts, branding of intamous marks on the body: 
 everything possible was done to reduce them to submission. Many 
 children were reduced to a most pitiable condition by such treat- 
 ment; several were driven out of their mind by persistent perse- 
 cution. A young girl of Balleme, who was imprisoned at Alencon 
 in a house established to receive little girls, drew upon herself, by 
 her constancy, the hatred of the sisters who conducted the establish- 
 ment. One day they thrashed her with rods until she was covered 
 with blood, and by other bad treatment, made her an epileptic. . . . 
 Children were imprisoned in dark, damp and dirty dungeons, and, 
 as the sisters placed them there, they would tell them that demons 
 would come to them. . . . They forced the children to attend the 
 mass. Rods were the favorite instruments of torture employed 
 by the nuns against these children, whom they treated with all the 
 refinements of cruelty that seem to be a peculiar product of the 
 religious communities. At Uzes these outrages were legalized. 
 The sister superior of a House for the Newly Converted com- 
 plained of the rebellion of some girls who did not seem to be 
 sufficiently good Catholics. They were condemned to be whipped 
 by the nuns, and the punishment was administered in the presence 
 of the major of the regiment at Vivonne and of the judge of the 
 town. There were eight girls punished, the youngest being sixteen 
 and the oldest twenty-three, yet the punishment was administered to 
 them as though they were little children. They were whipped in 
 the presence of a number of their companions for the sake of 
 serving as examples. During the punishment the young women 
 reproached the nuns for their false piety, that thus outraged the 
 modesty of their sex. 
 
 The royal declaration referred to in this chapter as obliging 
 Protestant parents to have their children baptized by a Romish 
 priest within forty-eight hours is dated Dec. 13, 1698 : Article VIII. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 On the whole, this is a pretty good century we are Hving 
 in. We no longer place little children in the red-hot arms 
 of a copper statue ; we no longer imitate the torture known 
 as the "Bull of Phalaris ;" we no longer see seven or eight 
 monarchs, followed by their subjects, with cross on breast 
 or shoulder, invade the kingdom of another ; there is prob- 
 ably not a living monarch who has the remotest intention 
 of repeating the little blood-letting of St. Bartholomew's 
 Day; I even believe that it is now more than thirty years 
 since a witch or a heretic has been burned. I frankly 
 admit that I much prefer a condition of social calm and 
 peace, and, if it was a necessity that, in the history of 
 humanity, there should be a period of massacres, of burn- 
 ings, of imprisonments and other national tragedies, I very 
 much prefer that they should be in the past than in the 
 present. I observe, even with a great deal of pleasure, that 
 our manners have a tendency to become gentler and to lean 
 towards peace and mutual helpfulness : here and there char- 
 itable institutions are being founded; every useful idea is 
 patronized by some prince. I confess that I am greatly 
 pleased when I read an article that pleads for toleration, 
 because, after all, it seems to me that monarchs are largely 
 governed by public opinion : like the common people, they 
 are but the heirs of the ideas they have received from 
 others; all are creatures of environment. 
 
 I sometimes hear grumblers praising "the good old 
 
 times." I always feel sorry for them that they had the 
 
 misfortune to be born a hundred years too late. Ah! if 
 
 63 
 
64 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 they had but come in the glorious days of French history, 
 in the brilliant and destructive century of the Fenelons and 
 the Bavilles, of the Racines and the Marillacs, of the La- 
 Fontaines and of the d'Herapines, of the Corneilles and the 
 Pere-la-Chaises, how their souls would have rejoiced at 
 the interesting events that occurred in the provinces ! Whilst 
 Louis the Great, at Paris, was attending the comedies of 
 Moliere or the harmonious dramas of Quinault, of whose 
 prologues he was especially fond, the common people in the 
 little towns witnessed real tragedies. One day it would be 
 a gang of prisoners on their way to the galleys, marching 
 on amidst the jeers and insults of the crowd. Another day 
 it would be the public whipping by the common hangman 
 of pious old Huguenots, or young boys, or some beautiful 
 young girl. Another day it would be a picnic party to go 
 and see half a dozen people hanged. And these sights were 
 not rare. How often has the cry been raised, "Panem et 
 cir censes" (the people must have bread and public sports) ; 
 but if we can only find amusements that harden and bru- 
 talize manners, is not that the very acme of political wis- 
 dom? 
 
 Such were the sights that in those days were witnessed 
 in the French provinces, and which Ambroise beheld during 
 his flight. He and his companions suffered great hardships 
 in their journey. The governors had issued orders forbid- 
 ding the supply of food to travelers not having chaplets — 
 beads for counting the number of prayers offered to the 
 A'^irgin Mary. But our fugitives found in the woods wild 
 fruits and roots, by Avhich they managed to keep up their 
 strength. Everywhere they passed through desolated re- 
 gions, farms absolutely deserted, and lands laid waste; or 
 met Catholic laborers, victims of the misguided national zeal, 
 begging their bread, or else wearing a cockade in order to 
 have the privilege of taking it without the trouble of asking 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 65- 
 
 for it. As they passed through villages they found the 
 houses wide open, streets full of broken household effects, 
 provisions destroyed or wasted — a perfect solitude. The 
 country had all the appearance of having been overrun by 
 a foreign invader. The highways were filled with soldiers, 
 constables, prisoners, fugitives, beggars, robbers and bodies 
 of murdered people. Such was the spectacle offered to 
 Europe of that France that was supposed to aspire to 
 universal monarchy. 
 
 But in those days foreign countries had a far different- 
 policy. The Edict of Nantes was revoked in the month of 
 October, 1685. As soon as the Elector of Brandenburg" 
 received the news, the 29th of the same month he published. 
 an edict by which he invited the oppressed who had beeiL 
 driven from their own country to come to his. As allure- 
 ments to draw them into his country, he offered them con- 
 siderable privileges, pensions, homes ready for them, espe- 
 cially churches where they might worship God. He dis- 
 tributed them in colonies over his estates, and there they 
 found ministers to preach to them and judges to judge thenL 
 in their own language. Several princes of Germany; the 
 princes of Lunebourg, the landgraves of Hesse-Cassel and 
 Hesse-Hombourg, the margrave of Bayreuth, imitated this 
 example. French villages were transported entire into the 
 forests of Germany, there to keep the name that was dear 
 to them and where they continued to speak in their own 
 sweet mother tongue. 
 
 England collected large sums of money for the enter- 
 tainment of refugees, and sent a great number of them to 
 the Indies with considerable advantage to herself as well as 
 to the fugitives. Holland did twenty times more for them ; 
 she lavished on them pensions and gave help to the fugitive 
 soldiers, to the nobles and ministers. Entire regiments were 
 formed of refugees. The very sight of these thousands o£ 
 
66 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 refugees scattered in the North, their tears, their regrets 
 and their curses even, contributed to embitter other nations 
 against France and to give to the alHes, in the subsequent 
 wars, that stubbornness that brought France to the very 
 verge of ruin. The ambassadors of Flis Most Christian 
 Majesty all wrote to the. court reporting these things, but 
 the heart of Louis was consoled by the sight of the statues 
 that the church raised to his honor and the glory that he 
 found in banishing heresy from his realm. 
 
 Ambroise and his companions, as they wandered through 
 the woods, came across several fugitive Protestants under 
 various disguises. Some of these joined their company, 
 which was thus getting bigger and bigger. They journeyed 
 long by obscure country roads and through a rough moun- 
 tainous country, and at length arrived a few leagues south 
 of the city of Lyons at a point where their guides told them 
 It would be necessary to cross the river Rhone. They had 
 the good fortune to find a man with a boat whom they paid 
 to transport them to the other side. But it was an unfor- 
 tunate day for them. Their movements had been watched 
 from a neighboring village, and soon they heard the tocsin 
 give the alarm and presently a score of armed peasants 
 rushed down upon them. These good men were actuated 
 by two powerful motives : their zeal for religion and the 
 prospect of plunder. By the king's decree, one-third of the 
 plunder taken from the fugitives would belong to those who 
 had been able to arrest them ; these wise and gentle laws 
 had the effect of constantly keeping one class of Frenchmen 
 in arms against another. Another third would belong, by 
 the same decree, to the informers, a respectable class of men 
 that, of course, every well-governed state must employ. So 
 that, if any one should be so ill advised as to help these poor 
 fugitives to escape pursuit or to help them in their escape, 
 the least in the world, another law, not less sagacious, 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 67 
 
 passed the 7th of May, 1686, condemned these officious 
 persons to the galleys. There were so many persons whose 
 kindness of heart led them to forget this law, that, in the 
 year of grace 1687, this penalty of the galleys was con- 
 sidered to be too lenient, and by the legislature was com- 
 muted to a death penalty. By these holy decrees everybody 
 was excited and aroused, so that the very peasants were 
 animated by a zeal for the upholding of the law and every- 
 where kept a sharp lookout for fugitives. 
 
 Ambroise and his companions resolved to defend them- 
 selves, and, pretending to arrange themselves in order of 
 battle, they marched boldly to meet the peasants, who im- 
 mediately took fright and fled, leaving the Protestants free 
 to continue their march. But their trouble was only post- 
 poned; they were watched, followed, and two days after 
 were arrested in Dauphiny with their guides. Ambroise, 
 who well knew the king's decrees and the penalty that he 
 had incurred by simply attempting to leave the country, 
 looked upon himself as now doomed to spend the rest of his 
 days as a prisoner in the galleys. He resigned himself to 
 his fate as a man who had no hope of being able to avoid it. 
 
 The day following, they were conducted to the point on 
 the road where they were to join the chain-gang. They 
 were chained by the neck to thieves ; the chains weighed 
 from forty to fifty pounds. The food given to them was of 
 the coarsest kind and but little in quantity ; and if they fell 
 from weakness, they were beaten with sticks. When they 
 reached the rendezvous of the prisoners, they saw a crowd 
 of respectable people — merchants, lawyers, gentlemen — who 
 had been arrested like themselves ; several of these were 
 deserving of respect on account of their age, their infirm- 
 ities and their long service to society. Thus they arrived at 
 Valence. 
 
 However, word was sent from Marseilles that the galleys 
 
68 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 and prisons were full, that they had also filled with prisoners 
 all the strong buildings in the neighborhood, and that they 
 would not be able to receive any more. It was first of all 
 decided, in the meantime, to put these prisoners in dungeons, 
 and as it was proposed to place them in the most horrible 
 dungeons that could be found, several prisons were sug- 
 gested which were renowned for dungeons notoriously in- 
 fected and filthy. At Bourgoin, it was said, the dungeons 
 are so deep, so narrow and so damp that they let the pris- 
 oners down into them by ropes under their armpits, and 
 that the strongest, after being in one for two hours, would 
 faint away. The dungeons at Grenoble had also their dis- 
 tinction; for they are so cold and damp that, at the end of 
 a few weeks, the prisoners lose their hair and teeth. Then, 
 again, there was the dungeon of Flocelliere, through which 
 passed the sewerage from the neighboring convent, and 
 whither the people of the place took the trouble to take 
 carrion in order to intensify the stench. Added to all this, 
 the dragoons had a precious invention of their own. They 
 would throw sheeps' entrails into the dungeons by way of 
 adding to the odors. This playful diversion they called 
 "throwing bombs." 
 
 If any of the readers of this history have specially strong 
 nerves, and are endowed with a certain coarseness of soul, 
 they may be able to note with pleasure that, in this fine 
 century of Louis XIV., the minds of men had a peculiar 
 energy, and that they had not been softened by reading 
 Montesquieu, and the Marquis of Beccaria's work on 
 "Crimes and Punishments." Such will doubtless shudder to 
 think that the Government could be so ill advised as to 
 suppress laws that, if they were allowed to remain upon the 
 statute books, would at least perpetuate the same hardy 
 spirit, the disappearance of which in these degenerate days 
 is doubtless to them a matter of deep regret. 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 69 
 
 Ambrolse was at first thrown, with two o£ his com- 
 panions, into a very narrow dungeon where they could not 
 possibly sleep all through the night, because their chains 
 were left upon them. They could hear dismal cries as of 
 women groaning frightfully, but after awhile the groans 
 were exchanged for singing of psalms : soon voices joined 
 in the hymns from all parts of the prison. Our three 
 prisoners were greatly moved to hear this concert of praise 
 rising from prison dungeons, and began themselves to join 
 in ; thus for an hour or so this horrible place resounded with 
 the songs of praise of those who were shut up there. But 
 these songs were succeeded by piercing shrieks, which came 
 from a dungeon which was located above the one in which 
 Ambroise and his companions were. Some one was brutally 
 cowhiding two women. This horrible ordeal lasted nearly 
 half an hour ; at length the door was slammed to, and Am- 
 broise could hear nothing but groans and sobs. Our pris- 
 oners were impatient to know who these women were whose 
 situation seemed to be even worse than their own ; they 
 succeeded in pulling out a few bricks and thus establishing 
 a verbal communication with the women, from whom they 
 learned who they were and whither they were going. The 
 women, on their part, gained similar information from 
 Ambroise and his companions. It was on account of re- 
 ligion that they had all to endure this horrible treatment. 
 They were the daughters of M. Ducros, a lawyer of 
 Languedoc; they had refused to give up their religion, and 
 for that reason had been sent to the general hospital of 
 Valence, in accordance with a royal decree dated Sept. 3, 
 1685, which ordains that women who refuse to be converted 
 shall receive discipline in convents. By an interpretation 
 that was even worse than the law itself, these young women 
 had been placed in the hands of the director of this hospital, 
 a man named Herapine. This rascal did not allow a day to 
 
70 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 pass without hanging- these girls up by the hands, perfectly 
 naked, and beating them with switches and rods. They had 
 hardly anything to cover themselves with, and the only 
 clothing supplied to them was underwear, foul with blood 
 and pus, that had been worn by the patients in the hospital. 
 They had to lie upon the ground in an infected dungeon, 
 and the food given to them was more apt to poison than to 
 nourish them. There were four daughters of a merchant 
 of Languedoc also imprisoned here and subjected to the 
 same tortures. A few days previously M. Menuret, lawyer 
 of Montelimar, who had been arrested for attempting to 
 leave the kingdom, had died there whilst being beaten with 
 a stick. It would take days to tell the story of the frightful 
 treatment the prisoners had to undergo. They encouraged 
 each other. They recalled to mind consolatory passages of 
 Scripture until the break of day. After awhile the dungeon 
 doors were opened; the prisoners were aroused with the 
 blows of sticks which, they were given to understand, were 
 as much by way of punishment for singing psalms in the 
 night as to make them hurry; but our prisoners, far from 
 murmuring at this treatment, prayed for their tormentors, 
 who, nevertheless, continued the spiteful treatment. 
 
 The following historical note is added by the editor of the 
 edition from which this translation is made: 
 
 As some curious readers might be disposed to search amongst 
 the parliamentary reports for this royal declaration of Sept. 3, 
 1685, I may as well forewarn them that they will not find it. There 
 are several royal decrees that were judged by various parliaments 
 to be so hard that they refused to register them. From this fact 
 it would appear that the decrees they did register were, in their 
 opinion, just and merciful, since they not only registered them, but 
 also caused them to be rigorously enacted. However that may be, 
 the following has been preserved in the records of those times: 
 
 "Louis, by the grace of God king of France and Navarre, to 
 all to whom these presents may come, greeting. The governors of 
 our provinces having brought to our knowledge the docility with 
 which many of owv subjects, who unfortunately had inherited the 
 heresies of Calvin, are returning daily into the bosom of the 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 71 
 
 Church of Rome, our mother, being constrained thereto by the 
 living light that our bishops and missionaries are spreading abroad 
 on every side, as well as by that filial inclination which they right- 
 fully have to submit to the paternal measures that we have so long 
 adopted to bring them back again to the way of salvation ; we have 
 judged it to be proper to our royal piety and duty to forget nothing 
 in the accomplishing of the work of the Lord. 
 
 "Furthei-more, we have been informed that nothing has been 
 so antagonistic to the holy resolution with which God has inspired 
 us to purge our kingdom entirely of heresy, as the stubbornness of 
 women, who not only refuse the instructions that Catholics so 
 charitably offer them day by day, but also carry dissension into their 
 homes by disputing vi;ith their husbands and relatives who mani- 
 fest an inclination to embrace cur holy religion. With a desire of 
 putting an end to such scandals and criminal disobedience to hus- 
 bands and relatives, we order that all women and girls who, within 
 eight days of the publication of this decree, shall not have abjured 
 the heresy of Calvin, shall be shut up in convents to be instructed 
 for one month, after which, if they still display a stubborn spirit, 
 they shall be constrained to fast, "to watch, to pray, to receive dis- 
 cipline with the others in the convents where they may be until 
 their conversion is entirely accomplished. We further command 
 husbands and relatives to denounce their wives, daughters and 
 relatives who shall be found liable to our present decree, under 
 penalty of punishment in accordance with the instructions that we 
 have given to our governors, whom we expressly forbid to use any 
 leniency towards transgressors. We further command to punish, 
 if necessary, with fines and bodily pains, those who would even ask 
 for a relaxation of the severity of our laws in favor of any one, 
 whoever it may be, without exception. 
 
 "Given at Versailles the 3rd September, 16S5, the forty-third 
 j'ear of our reign. 
 
 "(Signed) Louis (and lower) Philepeaux." 
 
 As an illustration of the benefits resulting to other countries by 
 the intolerance of France, the editor mentions the colony of Fred- 
 erichsdorf, in Hesse-Hombourg, which is entirely composed of 
 French refugees, who, by their commerce, their manufactures and 
 their manners, are in a perfectly well-to-do condition, and show 
 themselves worthy of the protection of the sovereign whom it is 
 their happiness to uphold. 
 
 As illustrating the respectable character of the prisoners who 
 were subjected to the humiliating torture of marching across coun- 
 try to the galleys in the chain-gang, the editor says : 
 
 I could produce lists of three thousand persons arrested in the 
 provinces since 1744 at their religious meetings. These arrests were 
 made principally in upper and lower Languedoc, the Cevennes, 
 Vivarais, Dauphiny, Provence, the Comte de Foix, Poitou and 
 
72 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 Saintonge. Not to mention the common people, one may count 
 more than six hundred private gentlemen, lawyers, physicians, good 
 citizens and rich merchants who endured all that is most onerous of 
 a hard and long captivity, which could be ended only by the payment 
 of fines and contributions that were as ruinous as they were arbi- 
 trary. More than a thousand others have been condemned to infamous 
 penalties. In this number there are about a hundred gentlemen 
 of wealth. The parliament of Grenoble alone summoned three hun- 
 dred persons in 1744, subjecting them to heavy traveling expenses 
 and legal costs. In the month of July, 1746, the same court depu- 
 tized Sieur Cotte with his marshals and an escort of two hundred 
 soldiers. "Wherever they went they subjected people to the worst 
 sufferings on no other evidence than the simple denunciation of the 
 priests. Later on similar visitations were made in Dauphiny, when 
 more than three hundred persons were condemned to death, to the 
 .galleys, to be whipped, to the pillory, to banishment, to prison for 
 life or for various periods, to degradation from the nobility or to 
 expenses or pecuniary fines. Fifty-three gentlemen — among them 
 were the Sieurs Bournat, Berger, Bayles, Saint Dizier, Bonnet, 
 Chatillon, Oste, Trescou, Chateau-Double and Saint-Julien — were 
 degraded and six were sent to the galleys. 
 
 In 174s, 1746, 1747, 1750 and 1751, more than three hundred 
 persons, amongst whom were forty gentlemen and two chevaliers 
 de Saint-Louis, were condemned to the galleys for life by the par- 
 liament of Bordeaux and by the governors of Auch, Montpellier, 
 Perpignan, Poitiers, Montauban and La Rochelle. Couserans alone 
 furnishes fifty-four examples. Five were even condemned to death 
 in 1746 and 1747. These sentences were pronounced by the gov- 
 ernor of Montauban, and the parliaments of Bordeaux and 
 Grenoble. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The chain-gang moved slowly on its way towards 
 Marseilles. The number of prisoners increased daily beyond 
 all expectation. The guards were at a loss to know what to 
 do with them. The only parties who were pleased with this 
 state of things were those who had the contract for feeding 
 the prisoners; for as the food they provided was small in 
 quantity and bad in quality, they doubtless made consider- 
 able profits. 
 
 Several days went by during which the prisoners were 
 hourly expecting to be put aboard the galleys in fulfillment 
 of their sentences. But it was announced to them that, as 
 a mark of special favor, they were to be transported to the 
 New World. Far from rejoicing at this news, they shud- 
 dered when they heard it : because they had heard that exiles 
 transported to the New World were treated like African 
 slaves. But all their sighs and groans were useless ; they 
 had to do with men who listened to neither reason nor 
 mercy. The embarkment was hurried forward. The con- 
 tractors who had undertaken the transportation to the New 
 World saw with alarm that some of the prisoners were 
 dying every day, and, fearing to lose the money they had 
 already expended, also the bonus that was paid on the 
 embarkation of each prisoner, they insisted so vehemently, 
 and used bribes so judiciously, that soon everything was 
 ready for the departure. The exiles burst into tears when 
 they saw the ships ; they prostrated themselves on the shore ; 
 they fervently kissed the soil that was rejecting them, the 
 
 land where each one was leaving some one dear to him. 
 
 73 
 
74 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 They now feared, as much as they had previously desired, to 
 leave the country. The officers amused themselves at watch- 
 ing- the desperate grief of the prisoners, and had the bad 
 taste even to mock their gesticulations. At length they 
 compelled the prisoners to embark; the coast of France 
 gradually sank in the horizon and finally disappeared from 
 view. 
 
 After sailing for a few days, the captain began to put 
 into execution a plan that hitherto he had been very careful 
 to conceal. It was to sink the ship. It was a rotten old 
 hulk that had been selected for this voyage, and was already 
 leaking in many places. The sailors placed in a skiff every- 
 thing that was of any value from the ship, and then the 
 captain boarded the skiff with his crew. Two sailors only 
 were left aboard the ship to execute the final orders, which 
 they did with the utmost secrecy. They pulled out a plug" 
 that bunged a hole in the bottom of the ship, and then, 
 throwing themselves into the sea, swam out to the skiff. 
 Some of the prisoners, and among their number was 
 Ambroise, seeing their danger, broke their chains and ran 
 to the pumps. For a time they worked frantically, but with- 
 out avail. The water gradually gained in the hold of the 
 ship, and at length, with a frightful plunge, she sank in the 
 depth of the waters. 
 
 As an instance of how ignoble noblemen can be, E. Benoit, in 
 his "History of the Edict of Nantes," tells the following: 
 
 The Count of Tesse had arrested some unfortunates, amongst 
 whom was a person of quality who threw himself at the count's 
 feet and begged for mercy. His words were broken with sobs and 
 tears. The count, by way of mockery of the grief of the miserable 
 man, kneeled down, joined his hands as in supplication, rolled his 
 eyes, distorted his mouth and howled in mimic lamentations. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Upon this ship was a man from La Rochelle who, after 
 a variety of adventures, had found himself in Languedoc, 
 where he had entered into the service of a Protestant gentle- 
 man, for which crime he had been condemned to the galleys. 
 This man was an excellent seaman, and, seeing that the 
 vessel was about to sink, he seized an ax and cut down the 
 mizzen-mast. He also managed to rip up some of the 
 boards of the deck. In this task Ambroise helped him. 
 They then threw themselves into the sea before the ship 
 made her final plunge. By micans of these timbers three of 
 the unfortunates managed to keep themselves afloat. The 
 man from Rochelle taught them how best to husband their 
 strength, and, as the wind blew from the east, they hoped 
 before long to sight the coast of Spain. For twelve hours 
 they were in the water without being able to perceive that 
 they were making much headway; in the meantime, their 
 strength was becoming exhausted, and they were about to 
 perish from fatigue and hunger, when, to their great joy, 
 a ship hove in sight. By shouting all together they managed 
 to attract the attention of the crew of the passing ship. A 
 boat was put off to rescue them. Who can describe their 
 delight when they heard their rescuers speak in a language 
 unknown to them? Each one thanked God that they had 
 not fallen into the hands of their own countrymen. "At 
 least," said Ambroise, "we shall not have to fear any royal 
 proclamations." For at that moment he recalled with bitter- 
 ness the long series of royal proclamations since 1685, from 
 
 the time he lost his father until that moment when he found 
 
 75 
 
76 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 himself a castaway in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, 
 half dead and about to be in the power of men whose nation- 
 ality was unknown to him and whose language he did not 
 understand. 
 
 But the language of kindness is universally understood. 
 The strangers showed for the three Frenchmen the greatest 
 possible kindness. Friendship seemed to beam from their 
 faces, and they betrayed so much sympathy that the cast- 
 aways soon realized they were in the midst of friends and 
 that their misfortunes would soon come to an end. Once 
 aboard the ship, they were put to bed and gently fed with 
 light but nourishing food. Seeing both soldiers and sailors 
 around them, the poor exiles could scarcely believe that 
 these men, instead of torturing them, were really caring for 
 them and helping them. 
 
 Their rescuers were Englishmen, cruising, in a ship of 
 war, around Gibraltar, which at that date had not yet fallen 
 into their hands. The chaplain of the ship understood a 
 little French, and managed to hold some conversation with 
 the rescued men, who told him of their misfortunes. They 
 had the sympathy, not only of the chaplain, but of the entire 
 crew. The Englishmen very freely expressed their horror 
 and indignation at the treatment these men had received 
 from their Government and fellow-countrymen. Having 
 fulfilled her commission, the vessel sailed for London, 
 where each of the Frenchmen soon found a position and 
 congenial employment. It is unnecessary here to give in 
 details Ambroise's experiences in England. He soon learned 
 the language, and the business habits he had already 
 formed helped him to advance, until after a few years he 
 was able to engage in business on his own account and 
 acquired a considerable fortune. 
 
 It might seem incredible that the simple act of being a servant 
 in a Protestant family should be a crime, but such it was decreed 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 77 
 
 "by a royal decree dated Jan. ii, 1686. This declaration recites that 
 by the former decree of July 9, 1685, his Catholic subjects were for- 
 bidden to engage in their service persons of the so-called reformed 
 religion, as tending to hinder the conversion of Protestants. He 
 now declares it dangerous to allow to the newly converted the 
 liberty of employing in their service persons of the said religion, 
 and consequently no one of the so-called reformed religion shall 
 under any pretext whatever hold the position of servant in the 
 family of one of the same religion; under penalty of one thousand 
 livres for the employer, the galleys for the men-servants, and the 
 whip for the women-servants. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 What, after all, is that attachment for our native land 
 to which we give the imposing name of love of country? 
 If we recall fondly the memory of places where we played 
 in early years, is it not because we are not thoroughly satis- 
 fied with the present, and is it not for the same reason that 
 we are constantly indulging hopes and making plans for 
 the future? Should we take such pleasure in recalling the 
 pastimes, for the matter of that, often dull enough, of our 
 native village or little town, the houses, the fields, the woods 
 in which we wandered in childhood's days, if we were al- 
 together satisfied with our present condition? 
 
 Dissatisfaction with the present, it is said, is a sentiment 
 peculiarly prevalent in the atmosphere of London. At any 
 rate, Ambroise fell a victim to it; he became homesick and 
 suffered from spells of depression. At such times his 
 thoughts turned fondly to the scenes of his childhood, the 
 little town where he was born, the hills around it, the huge 
 boulders of rock in the torrent that rushed close by the city 
 walls, the meadows through which he wandered as a boy. 
 The desire once more to visit his native land became irre- 
 sistible, in spite of the dissuasions of his friends among the 
 multitude of refugees in London. He argued thus with his 
 friends : he would tell them that since he left France the 
 lot of his brothers had been greatly improved, that now the 
 torch of reason was flaming, that now a philosophical spirit 
 had supplanted the old persecuting spirit and a ray of 
 wisdom was enlightening the country, the French nation was 
 
 learning wisdom, that books and newspapers were preach- 
 
 78 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 79 
 
 ing tolerance and humanity, and that by all signs French 
 society was becoming more tolerant and humane. 
 
 Possessed with these ideas, Ambroise embarked at 
 Dover, full of impatience to see his beloved native land 
 once more. It is easy to understand that he was not 
 recognized by anybody in his little native town. His dress 
 alone was a sufficient disguise. In those days it was the 
 fashion in France to wear long-tail coats and high hats, 
 and the English, in order to spite us, had taken to short-tail 
 coats and low hats ; which we adopted the next year, in 
 consequence of which they discontinued the fashion for 
 themselves. Ambroise's outfit bespoke the man of ample 
 means without pretence of grandeur. He conveyed the 
 impression of a man who was traveling for pleasure, without 
 troubling himself about the opinions of others. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Ambroise, born into the Protestant religion, brought up 
 by a mother who had sacrificed everything for conscience' 
 sake, confirmed in his opinions by the very means that had 
 been taken to induce him to abandon them, v^as what might 
 be called a religious man. Hardly had he given himself time 
 to rest after his long journey, than he expressed a desire to 
 attend a public religious service of his brethren in the faith. 
 He was led out into the country, into a desert place of 
 heather and reeds; a few green oaks scattered here and 
 there afforded a little shade, but as it was summer-time and 
 the weather extremely hot, as it often is in the south o: 
 France, the shade afforded by the few trees was far from 
 sufficient to shelter the entire assembly. About four thou- 
 sand people had assembled in this burning desert; they 
 joined in public prayers, they sang the praises of the God of 
 cities and deserts, and having listened to a discourse which 
 had for its object an endeavor to encourage to a virtuous 
 life, each one returned home, wet with perspiration, but 
 happy in the consciousness of having rendered to God the 
 homage that they believed to be his due. 
 
 A number of persons withdrew to a house some distance 
 
 from the place of assembly to take a meal. Ambroise was 
 
 invited to join them. There were two strangers in the 
 
 company whom curiosity alone had drawn to the meeting. 
 
 One of these was a careful observer of men and manners, 
 
 and seemed to be more interested in observing the customs 
 
 of men than the monuments of antiquity. He said that it 
 
 was especially in large gatherings of people that the manners 
 80 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 81 
 
 and prevailing ideas of people could be learned. He held 
 that laws should be framed according to the opinions of 
 the majority of the people, and that the object of legislation 
 should be to reform prevailing customs when they were 
 vicious, to tolerate them when they were harmless, or to 
 encourage them when they contributed to the moral good 
 and prosperity of the community. It was his opinion that 
 observers should note with the greatest care the general 
 spirit of a people, which exhibits greater varieties than 
 either climate or habits. 
 
 His younger companion, who had taken a more super- 
 ficial view of men and things, had not made a careful 
 comparison between the opinions peculiar to certain people 
 and the primitive ideas to be found in all nations. His 
 remarks betrayed the frivolity of his mind. He made fun 
 of the monotonous music he had heard, and was especially 
 critical of the absurd rhymes and meters of the Protestant 
 psalmody. 
 
 One of the men in the company said: "We will admit, 
 sir, that the verses are old-fashioned and the music is drawl- 
 ing, but that is the result of the tyranny of custom. When 
 our forefathers adopted the translation of Marot, they 
 found it in vogue at the court. Marot was one of the first 
 poets of his day, and at that time there was no better to 
 choose from. H we continue to make use of his psalms, 
 it is because of the great difficulty of changing an established 
 custom, and because very few persons have the courage to 
 attempt the difficult task. As for the music, it is Goudi- 
 mel's, who fell in the massacre of St. Bartholomew. It is 
 fine and noble music. The celebrated Jean Jacques, speaking 
 of it, says, 'The strong and manly melodies of Goudimel,' 
 but I agree with you that we sing it badly. The music is 
 difficult and our circumstances are such that we have not 
 
 had the opportunity to learn music, but hope some day 
 
 6 
 
■82 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 that we may be able to do better, as we certainly shall if we 
 -can but have peace. You surely can not expect us to 
 decorate the temple whilst it is in ruins." 
 
 ''But yet, sir," replied the young man, "why any music 
 ;at all, why any preaching, why any psalms? Why are you 
 not satisfied to worship God at home according to your own 
 ideas, without exposing yourself to this frightful heat which 
 has been scorching my brain? As for me, I think that all 
 worship is acceptable to God. I don't believe he has ever 
 commanded you to annoy him with bad music." 
 
 "You think thus," replied the same man, "and I think 
 otherwise. Act according to your opinion, but leave me to 
 act according to mine. I may be mistaken, it is true, but 
 so may you be mistaken also. If you believe that God has 
 never told you to do anything, well, that is your business; 
 but as for me, I believe that God requires me to worship 
 him in the manner in which I do. I should be violating my 
 own conscience if I did otherwise. I believe, as you do, 
 that God does not command me to sing his praises in bad 
 poetry; but I beheve that in his sight verses good or bad 
 are equally acceptable if they are the sincere tribute of our 
 hearts, since I do not imagine that he has organs of sense 
 like ours. I also believe that, since he is the God of all 
 nations and of all languages, to him it is altogether a matter 
 of indifiference what language I use in worshiping him, 
 whether Latin or French ; but I believe it to be most reason- 
 able and profitable for us to worship God in a language that 
 we can understand. Thus, sir, until I am convinced that it 
 Is no part of my duty to worship God in public, it is 
 absolutely necessary for me to worship God in a manner 
 that I believe is acceptable to him." 
 
 The elder traveler then broke In upon the conversation 
 and said to his companion : "My friend, I have traveled over 
 many countries; I have seen various parts of Asia and 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 83 
 
 Africa; I have penetrated far into the interior of tropical 
 Africa, and wherever I have found a community with any 
 sort of regular organization to guarantee public order, I 
 have also found some kind of religious worship. Wherever 
 you find a police you find a religion, and you can trace the 
 origin of these two institutions to the same epoch. And this 
 has led me to suspect that the light of religion has been 
 given to man to teach him justice or righteousness, and 
 human society itself is designed to teach us the benefits of 
 the reign of law, and as I can not possibly doubt that tfi"e 
 social instincts of men are natural and innate, I suspect tliat 
 it may also be an instinct that has led mankind in all 
 countries and in all ages to invoke and worship a superior 
 power." 
 
 "That is to say, sir, that you still believe in innate ideas, 
 notwithstanding that Locke has clearly proved that — " 
 
 "I did not say that we have innate ideas, but I am quite 
 prepared to believe that we have innate sentiments." 
 
 "And what is the difference between innate ideas and 
 innate sentiments?" <» 
 
 "A very perceptible difference. Ideas are the results of 
 sensations that the organs of sense transmit to the brain; 
 thus it is clear that the brain can have no idea until some- 
 thing shall have been transmitted along the organs of sense. 
 But our sentiments are our natural dispositions that we 
 follow mechanically. Thus maternal love is an innate sen- 
 timent. A mother's love for her children is the result of 
 neither reflection nor experience. And since I call instinct 
 their blind following of conclusions of which they ignore 
 the premises, and since all do the same without knowing 
 the reason why, I believe that we ought to give the same 
 name to such of our sentiments as all men follow from 
 their birth, without being specially instructed to do so. It 
 seems evident to me, for instance, that man is disposed, 
 
84 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 like the ant, the beaver or the bee, to Hve in societies, and, 
 just as the bee is not wliat she ought to be if she Hves alone 
 and apart from other bees, so man, living alone, would be 
 weak, ignorant, imperfect and not in a condition to arrive 
 at perfection. What has Nature done for us? A simple 
 little thing. She has placed upon us a law which impels us 
 to seek the society of our fellow-creatures, and from this 
 simple fact behold laws, good and bad, courts, states and 
 empires." 
 
 "What are you trying to prove?" 
 
 "This: when I see men everywhere agree in rendering 
 worship, good or bad, to a superior power, I suspect that 
 they are impelled so to do by a law of which they are 
 unconscious, and I can not but feel that, if the Creator has 
 made use of this means, it is better and more direct than if 
 he had left us to arrive at this conclusion by the slower 
 process of experience and the vagaries of human reasonings. 
 However, I may possibly be mistaken — as I have often been. 
 I have unfortunately several times treated with contempt 
 and disregard opinions which I have ultimately adopted, so 
 that now, when I oppose the opinions of others, I desire 
 to do so with that respect which is due to men who may 
 be better able to judge the matter than I." 
 
 "You believe, then, that the Creator has inspired us to 
 recite certain forms of prayer, to bend the knees, to turn 
 towards the east, to wear vestments of fine white linen 
 and to sing vespers and matins ?" 
 
 "No, I spoke simply of the sentiment which the Creator 
 may have implanted in the heart of man, and not of the 
 accessories that man has added. God simply says to all, 
 'Worship me in spirit and in truth.' Men's imagination and 
 love of display have done the rest. If there is a God, and 
 if he can be known by us, we can not but admire him. To 
 admire him is to adore, to worship him. But whether we 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 85 
 
 worship him in a white surpHce or in a black robe, whether 
 we sing his praises in unison or in four parts, is a matter for 
 each one to settle according to his own conscience, and if 
 I were a king I would not wish to persecute anybody for 
 singing in any particular fashion." 
 
 "It seems, then, according to your reasoning, that you 
 think that in reality the exterior form of worship is a 
 matter of but little consequence. In that case, where is 
 the harm of the king compelling others to adopt the form 
 of worship that he prefers ?" 
 
 "Where is the harm? There is the greatest possible 
 harm. In the first place, he can not do it. The attempt to 
 do it has already cost the country five civil wars and three 
 million lives. That is a rather costly experiment. You can 
 see by the zeal of these gentlemen how tenaciously they hold 
 to their opinions. Even supposing their religion to be 
 false, they believe it to be true ; which for them is exactly 
 the same thing. I doubt not that they will continue to feel 
 that they are under obligation to follow the religion they 
 believe in until they can find a better. I wish with all my 
 heart that the ideas of men might become more and more 
 noble and perfect; for that end I would be ready to shed 
 the last drop of my blood; but I would not shed one drop 
 of their blood to force them to change their opinions." 
 
 At hearing these noble sentiments from the stranger, a 
 murmur of applause went around the company. These 
 hearts, cowed and humiliated by long and bitter sufferings, 
 seemed to brighten up under words of sympathy, like 
 flowers which, beaten down by a storm, begin to raise their 
 heads when the sun shines out again. 
 
 "Ah! gentlemen," said one of the company, "you say 
 well, we may be deceived ; it seems to us that the simple 
 worship that we render to God is that which seems most 
 natural. We reject other forms only because they seem to 
 
86 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 us to be unnatural and unreasonable and that neither God 
 nor nature sanctions them. At any rate, our sincerity is 
 beyond suspicion ; the very perils to which we expose our- 
 selves are a proof of our good faith. But if it is a matter of 
 no consequence what kind of worship we render unto God, 
 as this gentleman seems to think, it surely is not worth while 
 that others should fly at our throats because we have a 
 different opinion." 
 
 Sympathy for the sufferings of others is a sentiment to 
 be found deep down in almost every heart; personal in- 
 terest and prejudice may often stifle it, but there come 
 moments when it will develop, when it will burst forth with 
 greater force for having been repressed. This was the case 
 with the younger traveler. He had at first regarded the 
 Protestants with that contempt that we too often feel to- 
 wards the downtrodden, before we take the trouble to en- 
 quire whether they are right or wrong. The remarks of his 
 companion had been for him like a shaft of light. "You 
 are right," said he. 'Tf worship is an eternal law dictated 
 by the Supreme Being, these people, without knowing it, 
 are following a law hidden deeply in their nature ; if they 
 have added some indifferent practices, it can not be a crime ; 
 at least, they are no more guilty than other people who do 
 similar things. Their worship is the most simple in exist- 
 ence, since they have added less than others to the universal 
 instinct." These new-born convictions were clearly depicted 
 upon the frank and open countenance of the young man. 
 
 "Do not suppose, gentlemen," said he to the company, 
 "that I intended any insult in ridiculing the opinions that 
 have drawn down upon you so much suffering. The un- 
 fortunate, whoever they may be, always have a claim upon 
 my respect, and I know only too well that, in order to be 
 persecuted, it is often only necessary to be right. I believe 
 I mifht even go so far as to say that of two parties, one of 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 87 
 
 which persecutes the other, it is the persecutor who is in the^ 
 wrong. But will you allow me, as a friend of the unfor- 
 tunate, to make some observations? If you have felt the 
 force of my friend's remarks, you will doubtless have felt 
 that the essential thing- in worship is the homage paid to 
 God, and the non-essential or indifferent part is the external 
 form of that worship. Why, then, do you not limit your- 
 selves to heart worship, or, at most, to domestic worship, 
 which is not now forbidden ? You would thus render to- 
 God the homage you owe to him, and you would not expose 
 yourselves to the persecutions of men." 
 
 "Ah, sir," then remarked the master of the house, "don't 
 you suppose that we would do that if we held your opinions? 
 But we have not your opinions. We believe that God wishes 
 us to worship him in the manner we do, and we could not 
 observe any other kind of worship. We are under obli- 
 gation, as your friend has admitted, to obey our own con- 
 science, because we believe we are in the right." 
 
 "My dear friend," then said the elder of the travelers,. 
 "do not push my principles further than I am prepared to^ 
 follow them ; and especially do not draw conclusions from 
 them that are not warranted by the premises. Observe, it 
 is not domestic worship that we see established all over the 
 earth, but public worship. All people have had temples or' 
 religious rendezvous in which worship has taken a certain 
 form. The evil with these people is not that their worship 
 has taken a certain form, but that they have hated those 
 who, without knowing or consulting them, have adopted 
 another. I should regard it a very great misfortune for 
 humanity if all the temples were closed, and the opinion 
 prevailed that it was sufficient to worship God in private." 
 
 "You surprise me. Why, should we not then at length 
 see upon this earth re-established that peace that theologians 
 have disturbed ? There would be no more religious quarrels,, 
 
88 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 no more holy wars in which men robed in white fight against 
 men robed in black, no more consecrated banners under 
 which to rally the persecutors, no more pretexts to be per- 
 secuted, and, as a consequence, no more of those evils that 
 have devastated Europe for centuries." 
 
 "It is true we should not have these evils, but we should 
 have others, for such is the natural weakness of humanity 
 that there are drawbacks to all its institutions and to all its 
 various modes of life. If there were no more public speak- 
 ing to men on religious themes, if they were never reminded 
 of the punishments to come to evil-doers and of the rewards 
 of well-doing, it is evident that soon there would be no 
 religion, and you see that brings us to the great question 
 whether, after all, religion is not the great misfortune of 
 mankind, which I am very far from admitting. This is a 
 discussion that befits an assembly of philosophers, but what 
 we have to do with now refers to these good, simple people 
 whom we have come into the desert to observe. The ques- 
 tion is, ought the privilege of public worship to be taken 
 away from these Protestants, or, in other words, ought 
 their religion to be taken away, for that is the same thing? 
 Is it wise to establish a people without a religion in the 
 midst of a kingdom where a religion already exists? Is it 
 prudent, or even possible, to deprive this people of a religion 
 which they have once known or followed ? — whether such an 
 end could be brought about by any arguments or by any 
 laws — and what would be the consequences to the state of 
 this sudden and ill-contrived privation?" 
 
 "Sir," said to him one of the company, "the experiment 
 has already been tried here in this very country where you 
 are at the present moment. The people who lived here 
 found themselves deprived of their opportunities for wor- 
 ship when their ministers had been driven away. The 
 people were so much opposed to the dominant religion that 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 89 
 
 Linnumberecl acts of violence had not availed to induce them 
 to embrace it. They found themselves without instruction, 
 without religious assemblies, and without public prayers. 
 Well, what happened? Cherishing constantly fond mem- 
 ories of their temples, that were become more dear to them 
 by privation, they met in secret ; any one who could or would 
 performed the office of minister, and women and even chil- 
 dren took part in the services. These ignorant ministrants 
 supplied the deficiency of their knowledge by the most ab- 
 surd vagaries ; soon there appeared prophets and prophet- 
 esses ; the people, hungering for spiritual food of some kind, 
 no matter what, began to have visions and yielded them- 
 selves up to the most ridiculous fanaticism, which was 
 religious in name only. When, at length, the old persecu- 
 tions revived, which had previously scourged this part of 
 the country, the very children resisted and suffered without 
 complaint the persecutor's rage, even as had their fathers 
 before them ; some fanatics took to arms, and this, together 
 with the violence of the priests, was one of the causes of the 
 war of the Camisards. Fanaticism did not cease until reg- 
 ular worship was re-established according to the rites of 
 the other Protestants of Europe." 
 
 "That," said the traveler, "is just what I should have 
 predicted. When you had ministers, they exhorted you to 
 patience and encouraged you to suffer martyrdom ; they 
 represented to you persecutors as the instruments of Provi- 
 dence, but since then you have recognized them as your 
 enemies and have attempted to resist them by force." 
 
 "Sir, we detest their conduct even more than the vio- 
 lence that gave occasion to it, and now we regard flight from 
 our country as the only proper reply to those who have 
 caused us to hate it." 
 
 "However, gentlemen," persisted the young man, "you 
 can not deny that the massing of multitudes such as yours. 
 
90 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 has something of a criminal character. If the CathoHcs of 
 England were to assemble contrary to law, the English 
 Government would repress them, and it would do well." 
 
 "The comparison is not just," replied Ambroise. "I am 
 from England, sir. The Catholics, truly, are not in a 
 brilliant condition there, but they are tolerated; they have 
 their priests, their houses of prayer, their meetings. They 
 are not such fools as to go out into the deserts to seek what 
 without hindrance, they have in the towns; but if they 
 assembled in crowds in the fields, it is clear that it would not 
 be in order to gain a liberty that they already have in the 
 towns. Their meetings would be suspicious and would de- 
 serve to be put down. I have, however, seen Methodists 
 assemble in the fields to worship after their own fashion, 
 and I can assure you that the Government did not trouble 
 itself about them, and it did well. If the Government had 
 persecuted them, it would have doubled their number. Our 
 assemblies are not the massing together of troops ; and what 
 is a proof that they are not seditious is the fact that we 
 admit our wives and children and strangers into our 
 meetings. The Government's suspicions are groundless, 
 since we desire and pray for its prosperity. Let the Govern- 
 ment tolerate us; let it authorize us; let the Christians of 
 the eighteenth century grant to us what the Christians of 
 the second century asked of the Roman emperors ; and you 
 will find that our assemblies will be the rendezvous of simple 
 and pious people who will pray in French for their country 
 and their king." 
 
 It was getting late ; the travelers had still some distance 
 to go before nightfall, and took their leave. The master of 
 the house desired to show them some things about the 
 neighborhood. They saw a newly built farmhouse, and near 
 by some broken walls blackened by fire. He told them that 
 this house had been demolished three or four times since 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 91 
 
 the time of M. de Rohan, and that it had finally been burned 
 by the royal troops during the Camisard war. He pointed 
 out, in the distance, two or three villages that had been 
 burned also. "Some of these lands," said he, "are still lying 
 waste since the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. From 
 fear of the penal laws, we hardly dare to .buy land, lest we 
 should be compelled to abandon them. However, we have 
 risked replanting our mulberry-trees, which have brought us 
 in considerable gains. We are already furnishing a number 
 of factories with raw silk. It is we who pay three-fourths 
 of the taxes of these cantons ; the taxes on our particular 
 industry have been doubled in the last ten years. Ah ! how 
 much good would result from a thoroughly reliable policy 
 of toleration, a toleration that would not be liable to be 
 withdrawn by the caprices of a Government that alternately 
 adopts and rejects such measures." 
 
 "Believe me," said the stranger, deeply moved, "that I 
 shall lose no opportunity of speaking about you and making 
 known your real character and purposes. All these evils 
 hardly affect us when we hear about them at a distance, 
 but what I have seen to-day I shall never forget." 
 
 The Protestants were consoled; the travelers were 
 touched with the sufferings of which they had seen the 
 evidences ; they separated with many expressions of mutual 
 respect and affection. Pity had arisen in the hearts of the 
 visitors at the sight of suffering and the pathetic gratitude 
 of the unfortunate people for those who had shown some 
 interest in their lot. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Ambroise at length settled down and began to feel 
 himself safe from the shafts of misfortune. He had 
 married and was happy in the enjoyment of the most perfect 
 friendship he had ever known. One who has passed 
 through many and severe troubles is qualified to appreciate 
 happiness when it at length smiles upon him. But his 
 sorrows were not yet ended: his wife was taken from him 
 soon after he became a father. His strong and sensitive 
 soul was plunged into the depths of despair. Nothing 
 seemed to dissipate the cloud of gloom that oppressed his 
 spirit. He was a prey to melancholy, and he would have 
 become a misanthrope, disgusted with life, with men and 
 society, had it not been for that paternal tenderness that 
 led him constantly to the cradle where lay the memorial o£ 
 his sweetest friendship and his deepest sorrow. 
 
 For a long time Ambroise denied himself to all visitors ; 
 he sought in religion the solace of his woe. Piety lent an 
 element of tenderness to the strength of his character, and 
 when, after long struggles, the consolations of religion pre- 
 vailed, his heart was softened and tears came to his relief. 
 Pie went to the cradle where lay his infant son, and found 
 a peculiar happiness in tracing in the face of the child the 
 features of the beloved mother, and he decided that he 
 would conquer his sorrow in order to devote himself to the 
 bringing up of the innocent child whose natural protector 
 he was. 
 
 One day, as with tearful eyes he sat nursing the child, 
 
 a notary entered his doorway, and, after the usual civilities, 
 92 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 93 
 
 handed him a legal document that Ambroise had great dif- 
 ficulty in reading. It was a summons calling upon him to 
 renounce all rights and claims to the property and rights of 
 the late Miss Sophie Robinel, seeing that she had never 
 been his legitimate wife, etc. The horrible paper fell from 
 his hands. The summons had been issued in the name of 
 Sieur and Dame Robinel, father and mother of the deceased, 
 who were under legal obligation to pay a dowry which they 
 had not paid and which was now overdue. Although Am- 
 broise was generous and had not dreamed of requiring the 
 payment of his wife's dowry, he now felt that it was his 
 son's property more than his own, and he did not feel that 
 he should renounce that which was naturally his son's. The 
 horrible character of the proceeding angered him. "For 
 virtue's sake," said he, "one can make sacrifices ; but shame- 
 ful and vicious proceedings like this should be dealt with 
 without flinching. God forbid that I should yield on a 
 point like this, through weakness. I despise the riches, but 
 I feel I ought not to dispose of them without consulting the 
 just rights of my son." 
 
 It is necessary to explain to the reader that Ambroise 
 had not been married in the church catholique, apostolique 
 et romaine, which was also the case with four or five hun- 
 dred thousand others who have become the parents of about 
 two millions of children, all of whom, by the glorious laws 
 of our land, are declared to be illegitimate, from a legal 
 standpoint. With such laws as ours there can be no legal 
 marriage except according to the canons of the Council of 
 Trent. No marriage is valid except those at which the sac- 
 rament has been administered by a Romish priest, and such 
 sacrament can be administered only to Roman Catholics. 
 It follows, as a matter of consequence, that Roman Cath- 
 olics are the only people who can legally marry. Ambroise, 
 who did not view things quite in the same light, maintained 
 
94 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 that the fact of the consent of the parents and of the parties 
 constitute marriage, that the marriage contract reveals the 
 conditions, that Hving together as man and wife is the public 
 acknowledgment of the marriage, and the children that 
 are born of the union are so many pledges of the validity of 
 the marriage, that they are legitimate because there has 
 been a real contract and all the conditions have been com- 
 plied with, and the part that the priest takes in the marriage 
 is simply to bless it in the presence of God and in the 
 presence of witnesses. That is but common sense, as Am- 
 broise maintained. But the lawyer laughed disdainfully at 
 all these fine reasons deduced from natural right and from 
 the spirit of the laws of all nations. 
 
 "It is not a question of common sense," said the lawyer. 
 "You must remember that we are in France, and you will 
 be judged according to French law. Now, French law 
 requires you to be married by the Church of Rome, under 
 penalty of nullification, and this is what you have not done." 
 
 "But how could I have done it," asked Ambroise, "if 
 the priest can not administer the sacrament to heretics? 
 The priest would not have married me." 
 
 "You had simply to embrace our religion." 
 
 "But that would have been impossible, since I do not 
 believe in it. You certainly do not mean to say that I should 
 have committed an act of hypocrisy and profanation?" 
 
 "No, for I should have despised you." 
 
 "What should I have done, then?" 
 
 "You should not have married." 
 
 "Ah, well, I suppose that that might have been possible ; 
 but then, do you maintain that twelve hundred thousand 
 young men and twelve hundred thousand maidens should 
 remain single? Shame on it, sir, you have there a perver- 
 sion of morality, and it seems to me that your laws are 
 framed to encourage immorality." 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 95 
 
 "That is no business of mine. There are cleverer men 
 than I who seem to think that it is all right. In any case, 
 it is no business of mine to defend our laws nor to reform 
 them ; it is simply my business to inform you that your 
 marriage is not legal and that it will be nullified; your son 
 will be declared illegitimate ; he will have no title to inherit 
 either his mother's property or yours." 
 
 "Well, sir, I will take the risk. At the worst it is only 
 money I shall lose, for my honor is beyond the reach of the 
 law ; and as regards the honor and fortune of my son, I am 
 well able to take care of them." 
 
 So Ambroise decided to defend the memory of his 
 virtuous wife and the status of his son. He fortified his 
 case with excellent opinions of distinguished lawyers, such 
 as M. EHe de Beaumont; MM. Mariette and L'Oiseau; 
 MM. Target and Gerbier; MM. Pascalis and Pazery, of 
 Aix; of MM. Lacroix and Jamme, of Toulouse. He ob- 
 tained an opinion of M. Servan, of Grenoble, and of the 
 principal legal authorities in the kingdom. All gave it as 
 their opinion that, as the Protestants were, by law, obliged 
 to remain in the kingdom where they were permitted to 
 enjoy the conditions of civil life, and not being able, as 
 Protestants, to demand or obtain nuptial benediction of the 
 priest, their only course, in order to marry, was to follow 
 the usages of primitive society ; that is to sa}^, that the con- 
 sent of the parents and of the parties and the living together 
 as man and wife constituted for them a marriage, since the 
 law could not mean that they should not marry. 
 
 Not satisfied with these opinions, Ambroise obtained 
 opinions from various German universities, and especially 
 from those schools where the study of natural law was a 
 specialty, since natural law is the basis of all laws, though 
 it must be admitted that many laws are considerably off the 
 base. These German schools gave opinions even more 
 
96 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 favorable, since, as Ambroise pointed out, they had no 
 prejudices to influence their judgment. He wrote to Hun- 
 gary, in which country there are eighteen hundred thousand 
 Protestants, to ask if all these were illegitimate. The reply 
 he received said, "No," and added sarcastically that in 
 Hungary people were not clever enough to understand such 
 subtle distinctions. Finally he wrote to Rome, whence 
 come opinions that are supposed to regulate the universe; 
 he asked what they thought there, or rather what they did 
 about marriage, for there is no necessary connection between 
 opinions and conduct. An old doctor of the Propaganda 
 replied that while, as a matter of fact, they taught that the 
 marriage consisted in the sacrament, yet at bottom he 
 thought that a marriage was valid, even though deprived of 
 sacramental grace, when it is contracted by those to whom 
 the sacrament is refused; they recognize this in the case of 
 Jews, who are very useful in bringing money and business 
 into the country that has been stripped bare of its population 
 and industries ; that formerly they had instructed the Jesuits 
 to compel the Protestants of France to marry before a 
 priest, but that they had been led to change their policy in 
 this respect when they saw that the only result was to 
 populate and strengthen the heretical countries. 
 
 Furnished with this volume of authorities, and sustained 
 by what he called the righteousness of his cause, Ambroise 
 employed an eminent lawyer to conduct his defense. This 
 m.an based a very eloquent argument on reason and senti- 
 ment. He presented with reason and force the arguments 
 of the most celebrated legal authorities. His speech was 
 frequently interrupted by applause from the large company 
 that had assembled to hear the proceedings. Justice and 
 Humanity, speaking to all hearts, evoked many stifled sobs, 
 and some were melted to tears as they listened to the argu- 
 ments. But the attorney on the other side pompously cited 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 97 
 
 the text of the law ; he constantly brought back his eloquent 
 adversary to the letter of the law. He gravely maintained 
 that to-day there were no Protestants in France, because 
 that in 17 15 the law declared there were none. He went 
 even so far as to state that it would be ruinous to the state if 
 it changed the status of the two million illegitimate children 
 in the country. He adroitly insinuated that this happy con- 
 fusion gave rise to a great number of lawsuits which kept 
 the courts busy. He convinced nobody, but Ambroise lost 
 his cause. It was said that whilst the decision of the court 
 was being pronounced the judges were visibly embarrassed, 
 and sought to conceal the blush of shame with their hand- 
 kerchiefs, and it was the popular belief that the judges 
 looked more guilty than the defendant. The iniquitous 
 law triumphed, the memory of Ambroise's wife was tar- 
 nished, and her son declared illegitimate and disqualified 
 to succeed to his mother's inheritance. One can well un- 
 derstand Ambroise's indignation. "Let us return," said 
 he, "let us return to that hospitable land where the rights 
 of humanity are respected and guarded. And thou, un- 
 happy child, who dost experience misfortune before know- 
 ing it, come seek a gentler land where thou wilt be per- 
 mitted to enjoy the inheritance that my love has provided 
 for thee." 
 
 That same evening Ambroise dined with two or three 
 of his judges. They candidly admitted that the laws which 
 condemned him did not agree with the eternal laws of 
 nature, and that they were ashamed to be the administrators 
 of such laws. "But, what can we do?" they said. "We 
 are only the executors and not the interpreters of the law." 
 
 "What I would recommend you to do," replied Am- 
 broise, "is to inform the king, who has been deceived, of 
 the abominable nature of the laws that, in his name, you 
 
 have to administer. Let him hear from all parts of his 
 
 7 
 
98 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 king-dom the protesting voices of the magistrates who rep- 
 resent him, against the laws that oppress his subjects and 
 render them unhappy. The opinions of the magistrature 
 vv'ould be beyond suspicion, and he, doubtless, would re- 
 store to the unfortunates the rights of humanity, and it 
 would be to his glory to have contributed to the happiness 
 and welfare of his people." The historian may here pause 
 to mention that not until fifty years later were the marriage 
 laws adjusted so as to do justice to the Protestant portion 
 of the population. 
 
 'T see, gentlemen," proceeded Ambroise, "that I have 
 been very much deceived about my country, in judging it 
 by the literature that came to me across the Channel. 
 When I read in London so many speeches and articles 
 about philosophy and humanity, I expected to find these 
 grand theories in practice, but I still find the Protestants 
 the victims of pitiless laws." 
 
 "What have you to grumble about?" interrupted, in 
 an excited manner, an old man who sat on the opposite 
 side of the table. "We are constantly hearing about the 
 severity of the penal laws ; but you know very well that 
 they are not carried out. The judges are too indulgent 
 and allow them to remain as dead letters. It is true that 
 every now and then we see a preacher hanged or the corpse 
 of a relapsed convert drawn through the mud ; but formerly 
 these were every-day sights. So, you see, sir, your com- 
 plaints are unfounded and frivolous." 
 
 "What business have you with laws that are no longer 
 put in execution?" asked Ambroise. 
 
 "We retain them as worthy monuments in our legis- 
 lative archives and as models for future legislators, as 
 being the best examples that they could follow. Moreover, 
 we keep them on the statute-books so that we may put 
 them into force when we have a mind to. If, unfortunately, 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 99 
 
 they should be revoked, the Protestants would indulge more 
 than ever in the hope of a tranquility which they do not 
 deserve, and which it would be absurd to concede to them ; 
 the exiles would return ; they would go into business and 
 into agriculture which are sufBciently flourishing without 
 them; and our posterity would have good reason to blame 
 us for making a big mistake. The Protestants are already 
 as happy as they have any right to be, and, with the ex- 
 ception of liberty of conscience, the liberty to own property, 
 safety of their persons, the free possession of their children, 
 the choice of trades and professions, they are treated almost 
 the same as the rest of the king's subjects." 
 
 The judges were silent because they saw very well that 
 the rest of the company were inclined to take the view of 
 the last speaker. All seemed to agree that the age of 
 Louis XIV., with its strong-handed policy, was the model 
 to be guided by. Talking of one thing and another, they 
 at length deplored that there was no longer a Louvois or 
 a Pere-la-Chaise to pursue, with regard to the Protestants, 
 a policy that reflected eternal honor on the memory of those 
 sagacious statesmen. Ambroise withdrew from the com- 
 pany, not caring to hear any more of this kind of talk; 
 but the company continued to discuss various projects for 
 restoring the glorious conditions of the past. The old 
 man, excited with wine, proposed all sorts of ingenious 
 methods for bringing back the miscreants into the bosom 
 of the church. He was enthusiastic about massacres. He 
 exulted in the massacres that had taken place in Ireland, 
 in Bohemia, in Piedmont and in Calabria. For more than 
 a hundred years stakes had flamed, gallows had groaned 
 with the weight of heretics ; there had been wheels and 
 tortures and galleys. The entire table became excited. All 
 agreed that the present times were degenerate ; that the 
 world was growing careless of religion. They spoke in 
 
100 THE OLD CEVENOL 
 
 terms of what appeared to be deserved contempt of a 
 policy of peaceable toleration of innocent opinions which 
 could not anyway be suppressed. But, whilst praising per- 
 secution, they acknowledged that there was one difficulty. 
 That, in doing so, they felt at the same time that they 
 would have to approve the conduct of the Neros, the De- 
 ciuses, the Julians. But the old man speedily relieved them 
 of that difficulty by alleging that the Romans had no right 
 to persecute, because they were in error; but that the 
 French had a right to persecute, because they were in the 
 right. Everybody acknowledged the force of this unan- 
 swerable argument, and, having settled the problem to their 
 entire satisfaction, the convives went home. 
 
 In the morning Ambroise was much surprised at re- 
 ceiving a visit from one of the convives of the previous 
 evening. This man came to tell Ambroise that the old 
 man who had spoken so viciously the previous evening 
 had, on leaving the table, hired a post-chaise and proceeded 
 immediately to Montpellier, and that he had good reason 
 to suspect that this incensed partisan had gone there in 
 order to procure a lettre de cachet against him. The 
 Englishman, for Ambroise began to feel that he was more 
 of an Englishman than ever, enquired what a lettre de 
 cachet was. He was informed that it was an official order 
 for his arrest and imprisonment without trial, or possibly 
 without even knowing what he Avas charged with. On 
 receiving this unwelcome intelligence, Ambroise started out 
 the next day for England, taking his son with him. 
 
 Once more in London, he was visited by all his friends. 
 He shed tears of joy at seeing them once again in a land of 
 liberty. He readily acknowledged that one can not judge 
 of a country by its books, and he declared that he would 
 never again leave London. He kept his promise: he lived 
 to reach the age of 103. His memory and intellectual 
 
THE OLD CEVENOL 101 
 
 faculties were ciear to the last. He often spoke of the 
 long list of royal decrees that had been the cause of so 
 much suffering to him and to others. They say, however, 
 that his last thought was for France, and that he died re- 
 peating the names of Henri IV. and Louis XVI. 
 
 THE END. 
 
SEP u laU 
 
One copy del. to C^it. Div. 
 
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