The same evening Chamillard sent for the baron, and told him that as

Marechal Villars had mentioned in his letter that the Camisards had

great confidence in him, d’Aygaliers, he wished to ask him if he were

willing to go once more to them and try and bring them back to the path

of duty.

"Certainly I am willing; but I fear things have now got so far that

there will be great difficulty in calming the general perturbation of

mind."

"But what can these people want?" asked Chamillard, as if he had just

heard them spoken of for the first time, "and by what means can we

pacify them?"

"In my opinion," said the baron, "the king should allow to all his

subjects the free exercise of their religion."

"What! legalise once more the exercise of the so-called Reformed

religion!" exclaimed the minister. "Be sure you never mention such a

thing again. The king would rather see his kingdom destroyed than

consent to such a measure."

"Monseigneur," replied the baron, "if that is the case, then I must say

with great regret that I know of no other way to calm the discontent

which will ultimately result in the ruin of one of the fairest provinces

in France."

"But that is unheard-of obstinacy," said the minister, lost in

astonishment; "these people will destroy themselves, and drag their

country down with them. If they cannot conform to our religion, why do

they not worship God in their own way at home? No one will disturb them

as long as they don’t insist on public worship."

"At first that was all they wanted, monseigneur; and I am convinced that

if people had not been dragged to confession and communion by force, it

would have been easy to keep them in that submissive frame of mind from

which they were only driven by despair; but at present they say that it

is not enough to pray at home, they want to be married, to have their

children baptised and instructed, and to die and be buried according to

the ordinances of their own faith."

"Where may you have seen anyone who was ever made to communicate by

force?" asked Chamillard.

D’Aygaliers looked at the minister in surprise, thinking he spoke in

joke; but seeing he was quite serious, he answered:

"Alas, monseigneur, my late father and my mother, who is still living,

are both instances of people subjected to this indignity."

"Are you, then, not a Catholic?" asked Chamillard.

"No, monseigneur," replied d’Aygaliers.

"Then how did you manage to return to France?"

"To speak the truth, sir, I only came back to help my mother to escape;

but she never could make up her mind to leave France, as such a step was

surrounded by many difficulties which she feared she could never

surmount. So she asked my other relations to persuade me to remain. I

yielded to their importunities on condition that they would never

interfere with my beliefs. To accomplish this end they got a priest with

whom they were intimate to say that I had changed my views once more,

and I did not contradict the report. It was a great sin on my part, and

I deeply repent it. I must add, however, that whenever anyone has asked

me the question your Excellency asked me just now I have always given

the same reply."

The minister did not seem to take the baron’s frankness in bad part;

only he remarked, when dismissing him, that he hoped he would find out

some way of ridding the kingdom of those who refused to think in

religious matters as His Majesty commanded.

D’Aygaliers replied that it was a problem to which he had given much

thought, but without ever being able to find a solution, but that he

would think about it more earnestly in future. He then withdrew.

Some days later, Chamillard sent word to d’Aygaliers that the king would

graciously give him a farewell audience. The baron relates what took

place at this second interview, as follows.

"His Majesty," says he, "received me in the council chamber, and was so

good as to repeat once more in the presence of all his ministers that he

was very much pleased with my services, but that there was one thing

about me he should like to correct. I begged His Majesty to tell me what

the fault was, and I should try to get rid of it at, the peril of my

life."

"’It is your religion,’ said the king. ’I should like to have you become

a good Catholic, so that I might be able to grant you favours and enable

you to serve me better.’ His Majesty added that I ought to seek

instruction, and that then I should one day recognise what a great

benefit he desired to bring within my reach.

"I answered that I would esteem myself happy if at the cost of my life I

could prove the burning zeal with which I was filled for the service of

the greatest of earthly kings, but that I should be unworthy of the

least of his favours if I obtained it by hypocrisy or by anything of

which my conscience did not approve, but that I was grateful for the

goodness which made him anxious for my salvation. I told him also that I

had already taken every opportunity of receiving instruction, and had

tried to put aside the prejudices arising from my birth, such as often

hindered people from recognising the truth, with the result that I had

at one time almost lost all sense of religion, until God, taking pity on

me, had opened my eyes and brought me out of that deplorable condition,

making me see that the faith in which I had been born was the only one

for me. ’And I can assure your Majesty,’ I added, ’that many of the

Languedoc bishops who ought, it seems to me, to try to make us

Catholics, are the instruments which Providence uses to prevent us from

becoming so. For instead of attracting us by gentleness and good

example, they ceaselessly subject us to all kinds of persecutions, as if

to convince us that God is punishing us for our cowardice in giving up a

religion which we know to be good, by delivering us up to pastors who,

far from labouring to assure our salvation, use all their efforts to

drive us to despair."

"At this the king shrugged his shoulders and said, ’Enough, do not say

any more.’ I asked for his blessing as the king and father of all his

subjects. The king burst out laughing, and told me that M. de Chamillard

would give me his orders."

In virtue of this intimation d’Aygaliers went next day to the minister’s

country house; for Chamillard had given him that address, and there he

learned that the king had granted him a pension of 800 livres. The baron

remarked that, not having worked for money, he had hoped for a better

reward; as far as money was concerned, he desired only the reimbursement

of the actual expenses of his journeys to and from, but Chamillard

answered that the king expected all that he offered and whatever he

offered to be accepted with gratitude. To this there was no possible

reply, so the same evening d’Aygaliers set out on his return to

Languedoc.

Three months later, Chamillard forwarded him an order to leave the

kingdom, telling him that he was to receive a pension of four hundred

crowns per annum, and enclosing the first quarter in advance.

As there was no means of evading this command, D’Aygaliers set out for

Geneva, accompanied by thirty-three followers, arriving there on the

23rd of September. Once rid of him, Louis the Magnificent thought that

he had done his part nobly and that he owed him nothing further, so that

d’Aygaliers waited a whole year in vain for the second quarter of his

pension.

At the end of this time, as his letters to Chamillard remained

unanswered, and finding himself without resources in a foreign country,

he believed himself justified in returning to France and taking up his

residence on his family estate. Unfortunately, on his way through Lyons,

the provost of merchants, hearing of his return, had him arrested, and

sent word to the king, who ordered him to be taken to the chateau de

Loches. After a year’s imprisonment, d’Aygaliers, who had just entered

on his thirty-fifth year, resolved to try and escape, preferring to die

in the attempt rather than remain a prisoner for life. He succeeded in

getting possession of a file with which he removed one of the bars of

his window, and by means of knotting his sheets together, he got down,

taking the loosened bar with him to serve, in case of need, as a weapon.

A sentinel who was near cried, "Who goes there?" but d’Aygaliers stunned

him with his bar. The cry, however, had given the alarm: a second

sentinel saw a man flying, fired at him, and killed him on the spot.

Such was the reward of the devoted patriotism of Baron d’Aygaliers!

Meantime Roland’s troops had increased greatly in number, having been

joined by the main body of those who had once been commanded by

Cavalier, so that he had, about eight hundred men at his disposal. Some

distance away, another chief, named Joanny, had four hundred; Larose, to

whom Castanet had transferred his command, found himself at the head of

three hundred; Boizeau de Rochegude was followed by one hundred, Saltet

de Soustel by two hundred, Louis Coste by fifty, and Catinat by forty,

so that, in spite of the victory of Montrevel and the negotiations of M.

de Villars, the Camisards still formed an effective force of eighteen

hundred and ninety men, not to speak of many single troopers who owned

no commander but acted each for himself, and were none the less

mischievous for that. All these troops, except these latter, obeyed

Roland, who since the defection of Cavalier had been recognised as

generalissimo of the forces. M. de Villars thought if he could separate

Roland from his troops as he had separated Cavalier, his plans would be

more easy to carry out.

So he made use of every means within his reach to gain over Roland, and

as soon as one plan failed he tried another. At one moment he was almost

sure of obtaining his object by the help of a certain Jourdan de Mianet,

a great friend of his, who offered his services as an intermediary, but

who failed like all the others, receiving from Roland a positive

refusal, so that it became evident that resort must be had to other

means than those of persuasion. A sum of 100 Louis had already been set

on Roland’s head: this sum was now doubled.

Three days afterwards, a young man from Uzes, by name Malarte, in whom

Roland had every confidence, wrote to M. de Paratte that the Camisard

general intended to pass the night of the 14th of August at the chateau

Castelnau.

De Paratte immediately made his dispositions, and ordered Lacoste-Badie,

at the head of two companies of dragoons, and all the officers at Uzes

who were well mounted, to hold themselves in readiness to start on an

expedition at eight o’clock in the evening, but not revealing its object

to them till the time came. At eight o’clock, having been told what they

had to do, they set off at such a pace that they came in sight of the

chateau within an hour, and were obliged to halt and conceal themselves,

lest they should appear too soon, before Roland had retired for the

night. But they need not have been afraid; the Camisard chief, who was

accustomed to rely on all his men as on himself, had gone to bed without

any suspicion, having full confidence in the vigilance of one of his

officers, named Grimaud, who had stationed himself as sentinel on the

roof of the chateau. Led by Malarte, Lacoste-Badie and his dragoons took

a narrow covered way, which led them to the foot of the walls, so that

when Grimaud saw them it was already too late, the chateau being

surrounded on all sides. Firing off his gun, he cried, "To arms!"

Roland, roused by the cry and the shot, leaped out of bed, and taking

his clothes in one hand and his sword in the other, ran out of his room.

At the door he met Grimaud, who, instead of thinking of his own safety,

had come to watch over that of his chief. They both ran to the stables

to get horses, but three of their men—Marchand, Bourdalie, and Bayos—had

been before them and had seized on the best ones, and riding them

bare-backed had dashed through the front gates before the dragoons could

stop them. The horses that were left were so wretched that Roland felt

there was no chance of out-distancing the dragoons by their help, so he

resolved to fly on foot, thus avoiding the open roads and being able to

take refuge in every ravine and every bush as cover. He therefore

hastened with Grimaud and four other officers who had gathered round him

towards a small back gate which opened on the fields, but as there was,

besides the troops which entered the chateau, a ring of dragoons round

it, they fell at once into the hands of some men who had been placed in

ambush. Seeing himself surrounded, Roland let fall the clothes which he

had not yet had time to put on, placed his back against a tree, drew his

sword, and challenged the boldest, whether officer or private, to

approach. His features expressed such resolution, that when he thus,

alone and half naked, defied them all, there was a moment’s hesitation,

during which no one ventured to take a forward step; but this pause was

broken by the report of a gun: the arm which Roland had stretched out

against his adversaries fell to his side, the sword with which he had

threatened them escaped from his hand, his knees gave way, so that his

body, which was only supported by the tree against which he leaned,

after remaining an instant erect, gradually sank to the ground.

Collecting all his strength, Roland raised his two hands to Heaven, as

if to call down the vengeance of God upon his murderers, then, without

having uttered a single word, he fell forward dead, shot through the

heart. The name of the dragoon who killed him was Soubeyrand.

Maillie, Grimaud, Coutereau, Guerin, and Ressal, the five Camisard

officers, seeing their chief dead, let themselves be taken as if they

were children, without thinking of making any resistance.

The dead body of Roland was carried back in triumph to Uzes, and from

there to Nimes, where it was put upon trial as if still alive. It was

sentenced to be dragged on hurdles and then burnt. The execution of this

sentence was carried out with such pomp as made it impossible for the

one party to forget the punishment and for the other to forget the

martyrdom. At the end the ashes of Roland were scattered to the four

winds of heaven.

The execution of the five officers followed close on that of their

chief’s body; they were condemned to be broken on the wheel, and the

sentence was carried out on all at once. But their death, instead of

inspiring the Calvinists with terror, gave them rather fresh courage,

for, as an eye-witness relates, the five Camisards bore their tortures

not only with fortitude, but with a light-heartedness which surprised

all present, especially those who had never seen a Camisard executed

before.

Malarte received his 200 Louis, but to-day his name is coupled with that

of Judas in the minds of his countrymen.

From this time on fortune ceased to smile on the Camisards. Genius had

gone with Cavalier, and, faith with Roland. The very day of the death of

the latter, one of their stores, containing more than eighty sacks of

corn, had been taken at Toiras. The next day, Catinat, who, with a dozen

men, was in hiding in a vineyard of La Vaunage, was surprised by a

detachment of Soissonnais; eleven of his men were killed, the twelfth

made prisoner, and he himself barely escaped with a severe wound. The

25th of the same month, a cavern near Sauve, which the rebels used as a

store, and which contained one hundred and fifty sacks of fine wheat,

was discovered; lastly, Chevalier de Froulay had found a third

hiding-place near Mailet. In this, which had been used not only as a

store but as a hospital, besides a quantity of salt beef, wine, and

flour, six wounded Camisards were found, who were instantly shot as they

lay.

The only band which remained unbroken was Ravanel’s, but since the

departure of Cavalier things had not gone well with his lieutenant.

In consequence of this, and also on account of the successive checks

which the other bodies of Camisard troops had met with, Ravanel

proclaimed a solemn fast, in order to intercede with God to protect the

Huguenot cause. On Saturday, the 13th September, he led his entire force

to the wood of St. Benazet, intending to pass the whole of the next day

with them there in prayer. But treason was rife. Two peasants who knew

of this plan gave information to M. Lenoir, mayor of Le Vigan, and he

sent word to the marechal and M. de Saville, who were at Anduze.

Nothing could have been more welcome to the governor than this important

information: he made the most careful disposition of his forces, hoping

to destroy the rebellion at one blow. He ordered M. de Courten, a

brigadier-colonel in command at Alais, to take a detachment of the

troops under him and patrol the banks of the Gardon between Ners and

Castagnols. He was of opinion that if the Camisards were attacked on the

other side by a body of soldiers drawn from Anduze, which he had

stationed during the night at Dommersargues, they would try to make good

their retreat towards the river. The force at Dommersargues might almost

be called a small army; for it was composed of a Swiss battalion, a

battalion of the Hainault regiment, one from the Charolais regiment, and

four companies of dragoons from Fimarcon and Saint-Sernin.

Everything took place as the peasants had said: on Saturday the 13th,

the Camisards entered, as we have seen, the wood of St. Benazet, and

passed the night there.

At break of day the royals from Dommersargues began their advance. The

Camisard outposts soon perceived the movement, and warned Ravanel, who

held his little council of war. Everyone was in favour of instant

retreat, so they retired towards Ners, intending to cross the Gardon

below that town: just as M. de Villars had foreseen, the Camisards did

everything necessary for the success of his plans, and ended by walking

right into the trap set for them.

On emerging from the wood of St. Benazet, they caught sight of a

detachment of royals drawn up and waiting for them between Marvejols and

a mill called the Moulin-du-Pont. Seeing the road closed in this

direction, they turned sharp to the left, and gained a rocky valley

which ran parallel to the Gardon. This they followed till they came out

below Marvejols, where they crossed the river. They now thought

themselves out of danger, thanks to this manoeuvre, but suddenly they

saw another detachment of royals lying on the grass near the mill of La

Scie. They at once halted again, and then, believing themselves

undiscovered, turned back, moving as noiselessly as possible, intending

to recross the river and make for Cardet. But they only avoided one trap

to fall into another, for in this direction they were met by the

Hainault battalion, which swooped down upon them. A few of these

ill-fated men rallied at the sound of Ravanel’s voice and made an effort

to defend themselves in spite of the prevailing confusion; but the

danger was so imminent, the foes so numerous, and their numbers

decreased so rapidly under the fierce assault, that their example failed

of effect, and flight became general: every man trusted to chance for

guidance, and, caring nothing for the safety of others, thought only of

his own.

Then it ceased to be a battle and become a massacre, for the royals were

ten to one; and among those they encountered, only sixty had firearms,

the rest, since the discovery of their various magazines, having been

reduced to arm themselves with bad swords, pitchforks, and bayonets

attached to sticks. Hardly a man survived the fray. Ravanel himself only

succeeded in escaping by throwing himself into the river, where he

remained under water between two rocks for seven hours, only coming to

the surface to breathe. When night fell and the dragoons had retired, he

also fled.

This was the last battle of the war, which had lasted four years. With

Cavalier and Roland, those two mountain giants, the power of the rebels

disappeared. As the news of the defeat spread, the Camisard chiefs and

soldiers becoming convinced that the Lord had hidden His face from them,

surrendered one by one. The first to set an example was Castanet. On

September 6th, a week after the defeat of Ravanel, he surrendered to the

marechal. On the 19th, Catinat and his lieutenant, Franqois Souvayre,

tendered their submission; on the 22nd, Amet, Roland’s brother, came in;

on October 4th, Joanny; on the 9th, Larose, Valette, Salomon, Laforet,

Moulieres, Salles, Abraham and Marion; on the 20th, Fidele; and on the

25th, Rochegude.

Each made what terms he could; in general the conditions were

favourable. Most of those who submitted received rewards of money, some

more, some less; the smallest amount given being 200 livres. They all

received passports, and were ordered to leave the kingdom, being sent,

accompanied by an escort and at the king’s expense, to Geneva. The

following is the account given by Marion of the agreement he came to

with the Marquis Lalande; probably all the others were of the same

nature.

"I was deputed," he says, "to treat with this lieutenant-general in

regard to the surrender of my own troops and those of Larose, and to

arrange terms for the inhabitants of thirty-five parishes who had

contributed to our support during the war. The result of the

negotiations was that all the prisoners from our cantons should be set

at liberty, and be reinstated in their possessions, along with all the

others. The inhabitants of those parishes which had been ravaged by fire

were to be exempt from land-tax for three years; and in no parish were

the inhabitants to be taunted with the past, nor molested on the subject

of religion, but were to be free to worship God in their own houses

according to their consciences."

These agreements were fulfilled with such punctuality, that Larose was

permitted to open the prison doors of St. Hippolyte to forty prisoners

the very day he made submission.

As we have said, the Camisards, according as they came in, were sent off

to Geneva. D’Aygaliers, whose fate we have anticipated, arrived there on

September 23rd, accompanied by Cavalier’s eldest brother, Malpach,

Roland’s secretary, and thirty-six Camisards. Catinat and Castanet

arrived there on the 8th October, along with twenty-two other persons,

while Larose, Laforet, Salomon, Moulieres, Salles, Marion, and Fidele

reached it under the escort of forty dragoons from Fimarcon in the month

of November.

Of all the chiefs who had turned Languedoc for four years into a vast

arena, only Ravanel remained, but he refused either to surrender or to

leave the country. On the 8th October the marechal issued an order

declaring he had forfeited all right to the favour of an amnesty, and

offering a reward of 150 Louis to whoever delivered him up living, and

2400 livres to whoever brought in his dead body, while any hamlet,

village, or town which gave him refuge would be burnt to the ground and

the inhabitants put to the sword.

The revolt seemed to be at an end and peace established. So the marechal

was recalled to court, and left Nimes on January the 6th. Before his

departure he received the States of Languedoc, who bestowed on him not

only the praise which was his due for having tempered severity with

mercy, but also a purse of 12,000 livres, while a sum of 8000 livres was

presented to his wife. But all this was only a prelude to the favours

awaiting him at court. On the day he returned to Paris the king

decorated him with all the royal orders and created him a duke. On the

following day he received him, and thus addressed him: "Sir, your past

services lead me to expect much of those you will render me in the

future. The affairs of my kingdom would be better conducted if I had

several Villars at my disposal. Having only one, I must always send him

where he is most needed. It was for that reason I sent you to Languedoc.

You have, while there, restored tranquillity to my subjects, you must

now defend them against their enemies; for I shall send you to command

my army on the Moselle in the next campaign."

The, Duke of Berwick arrived at Montpellier on the 17th March to replace

Marechal Villars. His first care was to learn from M. de Baville the

exact state of affairs. M. de Baville told him that they were not at all

settled as they appeared to be on the surface. In fact, England and

Holland, desiring nothing so much as that an intestine war should waste

France, were making unceasing efforts to induce the exiles to return

home, promising that this time they would really support them by lending

arms, ammunition, and men, and it was said that some were already on

their way back, among the number Castanet.

And indeed the late rebel chief, tired of inaction, had left Geneva in

the end of February, and arrived safely at Vivarais. He had held a

religious meeting in a cave near La Goree, and had drawn to his side

Valette of Vals and Boyer of Valon. Just as the three had determined to

penetrate into the Cevennes, they were denounced by some peasants before

a Swiss officer named Muller, who was in command of a detachment of

troops in the village of Riviere. Muller instantly mounted his horse,

and guided by the informers made his way into the little wood in which

the Camisards had taken refuge, and fell upon them quite unexpectedly.

Boyer was killed in trying to escape; Castanet was taken and brought to

the nearest prison, where he was joined the next day by Valette, who had

also been betrayed by some peasants whom he had asked for assistance.

The first punishment inflicted on Castanet was, that he was compelled to

carry in his hand the head of Boyer all the way from La Goree to

Montpellier. He protested vehemently at first, but in vain: it was

fastened to his wrist by the hair; whereupon he kissed it on both

cheeks, and went through the ordeal as if it were a religious act,

addressing words of prayer to the head as he might have done to a relic

of a martyr.

Arrived at Montpellier, Castanet was examined, and at first persisted in

saying that he had only returned from exile because he had not the

wherewithal to live abroad. But when put to the torture he was made to

endure such agony that, despite his courage and constancy, he confessed

that he had formed a plan to introduce a band of Huguenot soldiers with

their officers into the Cevennes by way of Dauphine or by water, and

while waiting for their arrival he had sent on emissaries in advance to

rouse the people to revolt; that he himself had also shared in this

work; that Catinat was at the moment in Languedoc or Vivarais engaged in

the same task, and provided with a considerable sum of money sent him by

foreigners for distribution, and that several persons of still greater

importance would soon cross the frontier and join him.

Castanet was condemned to be broken on the wheel. As he was about to be

led to execution, Abbe Tremondy, the cure of Notre-Dame, and Abbe

Plomet, canon of the cathedral, came to his cell to make a last effort

to convert him, but he refused to speak. They therefore went on before,

and awaited him on the scaffold. There they appeared to inspire Castanet

with more horror than the instruments of torture, and while he addressed

the executioner as "brother," he called out to the priests, "Go away out

of my sight, imps from the bottomless pit! What are you doing here, you

accursed tempters? I will die in the religion in which I was born. Leave

me alone, ye hypocrites, leave me alone!" But the two abbes were

unmoved, and Castanet expired cursing, not the executioner but the two

priests, whose presence during his death-agony disturbed his soul,

turning it away from things which should have filled it.

Valette was sentenced to be hanged, and was executed on the same day as

Castanet.

In spite of the admissions wrung from Castanet in March, nearly a month

passed without any sign of fresh intrigues or any attempt at rebellion.

But on the 17th of April, about seven o’clock in the evening, M. de

Baville received intelligence that several Camisards had lately returned

from abroad, and were in hiding somewhere, though their retreat was not

known. This information was laid before the Duke of Berwick, and he and

M. de Baville ordered certain houses to be searched, whose owners were

in their opinion likely to have given refuge to the malcontents. At

midnight all the forces which they could collect were divided into

twelve detachments, composed of archers and soldiers, and at the head of

each detachment was placed a man that could be depended upon. Dumayne,

the king’s lieutenant, assigned to each the districts they were to

search, and they all set out at once from the town hall, at half-past

twelve, marching in silence, and separating at signs from their leaders,

so anxious were they to make no noise. At first all their efforts were

of no avail, several houses being searched without any result; but at

length Jausserand, the diocesan provost, having entered one of the

houses which he and Villa, captain of the town troops, had had assigned

to them, they found three men sleeping on mattresses laid on the floor.

The provost roused them by asking them who they were, whence they came,

and what they were doing at Montpellier, and as they, still half asleep,

did not reply quite promptly, he ordered them to dress and follow him.

These three men were Flessiere, Gaillard, and Jean-Louis. Flessiere was

a deserter from the Fimarcon regiment: he it was who knew most about the

plot. Gaillard had formerly served in the Hainault regiment; and

Jean-Louis, commonly called "the Genevois," was a deserter from the

Courten regiment.

Flessiere, who was the leader, felt that it would be a great disgrace to

let themselves be taken without resistance; he therefore pretended to

obey, but in lifting up his clothes, which lay upon a trunk, he managed

to secure two pistols, which he cocked. At the noise made by the hammers

the provost’s suspicions were aroused, and throwing himself on

Flessiere, he seized him round the waist from behind. Flessiere, unable

to turn, raised his arm and fired over his shoulder. The shot missed the

provost, merely burning a lock of his hair, but slightly wounded one of

his servants, who was carrying a lantern. He then tried to fire a second

shot, but Jausserand, seizing him by the wrist with one hand, blew out

his brains with the other. While Jausserand and Flessiere were thus

struggling, Gaillard threw himself on Villa, pinning his arms to his

sides. As he had no weapons, he tried to push him to the wall, in order

to stun him by knocking his head against it; but when the servant, being

wounded, let the lantern fall, he took advantage of the darkness to make

a dash for the door, letting go his hold of his antagonist.

Unfortunately for him, the doors, of which there were two, were guarded,

and the guards, seeing a half-naked man running away at the top of his

speed, ran after him, firing several shots. He received a wound which,

though not dangerous, impeded his flight, so that he was soon overtaken

and captured. They brought him back a prisoner to the town hall, where

Flessiere’s dead body already lay.

Meanwhile Jean-Louis had had better luck. While the two struggles as

related above were going on, he slipped unnoticed to an open window and

got out into the street. He ran round the corner of the house, and

disappeared like a shadow in the darkness before the eyes of the guards.

For a long time he wandered from street to street, running down one and

up another, till chance brought him near La Poissonniere. Here he

perceived a beggar propped against a post and fast asleep; he awoke him,

and proposed that they should exchange clothes. As Jean-Louis’ suit was

new and the beggar’s in rags, the latter thought at first it was a joke.

Soon perceiving, however, that the offer was made in all seriousness, he

agreed to the exchange, and the two separated, each delighted with his

bargain. Jean-Louis approached one of the gates of the town, in order to

be able to get out as soon as it was opened, and the beggar hastened off

in another direction, in order to get away from the man who had let him

have so good a bargain, before he had time to regret the exchange he had

made.

But the night’s adventures were far from being over. The beggar was

taken a prisoner, Jean-Louis’ coat being recognised, and brought to the

town hall, where the mistake was discovered. The Genevois meantime got

into a dark street, and lost his way. Seeing three men approach, one of

whom carried a lantern, he went towards the light, in order to find out

where he was, and saw, to his surprise, that one of the men was the

servant whom Flessiere had wounded, and who was now going to have his

wound dressed. The Genevois tried to draw back into the shade, but it

was too late: the servant had recognised him. He then tried to fly; but

the wounded man soon overtook him, and although one of his hands was

disabled, he held him fast with the other, so that the two men who were

with him ran up and easily secured him. He also was brought to the town

hall, where he found the Duke of Berwick and M. de Baville, who were

awaiting the result of the affray.

Hardly had the prisoner caught sight of them than, seeing himself

already hanged, which was no wonder considering the marvellous celerity

with which executions were conducted at that epoch, he threw himself on

his knees, confessed who he was, and related for what reason he had

joined the fanatics. He went on to say that as he had not joined them of

his own free will, but had been forced to do so, he would, if they would

spare his life, reveal important secrets to them, by means of which they

could arrest the principal conspirators.

His offer was so tempting and his life of so little worth that the duke

and de Baville did not long hesitate, but pledged their word to spare

his life if the revelations he was about to make proved to be of real

importance. The bargain being concluded, the Genevois made the following

statement:

"That several letters having arrived from foreign countries containing

promises of men and money, the discontented in the provinces had leagued

together in order to provoke a fresh rebellion. By means of these

letters and other documents which were scattered abroad, hopes were

raised that M. de Miremont, the last Protestant prince of the house of

Bourbon, would bring them reinforcements five or six thousand strong.

These reinforcements were to come by sea and make a descent on

Aigues-Mortes or Cette,—and two thousand Huguenots were to arrive at the

same time by way of Dauphine and join the others as they disembarked.

"That in this hope Catinat, Clary, and Jonquet had left Geneva and

returned to France, and having joined Ravanel had gone secretly through

those parts of the country known to be infected with fanaticism, and

made all necessary arrangements, such as amassing powder and lead,

munitions of war, and stores of all kinds, as well as enrolling the

names of all those who were of age to bear arms. Furthermore, they had

made an estimate of what each city, town, and village ought to

contribute in money or in kind to the—League of the Children of God, so

that they could count on having eight or ten thousand men ready to rise

at the first signal. They had furthermore resolved that there should be

risings in several places at the same time, which places were already

chosen, and each of those who were to take part in the movement knew his

exact duty. At Montpellier a hundred of the most determined amongst the

disaffected were to set fire in different quarters to the houses of the

Catholics, killing all who attempted to extinguish the fires, and with

the help of the Huguenot inhabitants were, to slaughter the garrison,

seize the citadel, and carry off the Duke of Berwick and M. de Baville.

The same things were to be done at Nimes, Uzes, Alais, Anduze,

Saint-Hippolyte, and Sommieres. Lastly, he said, this conspiracy had

been going on for more than three months, and the conspirators, in order

not to be found out, had only revealed their plans to those whom they

knew to be ready to join them: they had not admitted a single woman to

their confidence, or any man whom it was possible to suspect. Further,

they had only met at night and a few persons at a time, in certain

country houses, to which admittance was gained by means of a

countersign; the 25th of April was the day fixed for the general rising

and the execution of these projects."

As may be seen, the danger was imminent, as there was only six days’

interval between the revelation and the expected outburst; so the

Genevois was consulted, under renewed promises of safety for himself, as

to the best means of seizing on the principal chiefs in the shortest

possible time. He replied that he saw no other way but to accompany them

himself to Nimes, where Catinat and Ravanel were in hiding, in a house

of which he did not know the number and in a street of which he did not

know the name, but which he was sure of recognising when he saw them. If

this advice were to be of any avail, there was no time to be lost, for

Ravanel and Catinat were to leave Nimes on the 20th or the 21st at

latest; consequently, if they did not set off at once, the chiefs would

no longer be there when they arrived. The advice seemed good, so the

marechal and the intendant hastened to follow it: the informer was sent

to Nimes guarded by six archers, the conduct of the expedition was given

to Barnier, the provost’s lieutenant, a man of intellect and common

sense, and in whom the provost had full confidence. He carried letters

for the Marquis of Sandricourt.

As they arrived late on the evening of the 19th, the Genevois was at

once led up and down the streets of Nimes, and, as he had promised, he

pointed out several houses in the district of Sainte-Eugenie.

Sandricourt at once ordered the garrison officers, as well as those of

the municipal and Courten regiments, to put all their soldiers under

arms and to station them quietly throughout the town so as to surround

that district. At ten o’clock, the Marquis of Sandricourt, having made

certain that his instructions had been carefully carried out, gave

orders to MM. de L’Estrade, Barnier, Joseph Martin, Eusebe, the major of

the Swiss regiment, and several other officers, along with ten picked

men, to repair to the house of one Alison, a silk merchant, this house

having been specially pointed out by the prisoner. This they did, but

seeing the door open, they had little hope of finding the chiefs of a

conspiracy in a place so badly guarded; nevertheless, determined to obey

their instructions, they glided softly into the hall. In a few moments,

during which silence and darkness reigned, they heard people speaking

rather loudly in an adjoining room, and by listening intently they

caught the following words: "It is quite sure that in less than three

weeks the king will be no longer master of Dauphine, Vivarais, and

Languedoc. I am being sought for everywhere, and here I am in Nimes,

with nothing to fear."

It was now quite clear to the listeners that close at hand were some at

least of those for whom they were looking. They ran to the door, which

was ajar, and entered the room, sword in hand. They found Ravanel,

Jonquet, and Villas talking together, one sitting on a table, another

standing on the hearth, and the third lolling on a bed.

Jonquet was a young man from Sainte-Chatte, highly thought of among the

Camisards. He had been, it may be remembered, one of Cavalier’s

principal officers. Villas was the son of a doctor in Saint-Hippolyte;

he was still young, though he had seen ten years’ service, having been

cornet in England in the Galloway regiment. As to Ravanel, he is

sufficiently known to our readers to make any words of introduction

unnecessary.

De l’Estrade threw himself on the nearest of the three, and, without

using his sword, struck him with his fist. Ravanel (for it was he) being

half stunned, fell back a step and asked the reason of this violent

assault; while Barnier exclaimed, "Hold him fast, M. de l’Estrade; it is

Ravanel!" "Well, yes, I am Ravanel," said the Camisard, "but that is no

reason for making so much noise." As he said these words he made an

attempt to reach his weapons, but de l’Estrade and Barnier prevented him

by throwing themselves on him, and succeeded in knocking him down after

a fierce struggle. While, this was going on, his two companions were

secured, and the three were removed to the fort, where their guard never

left them night or day.

The Marquis of Sandricourt immediately sent off a courier to the Duke of

Berwick and M. de Baville to inform them of the important capture he had

made. They were so delighted at the news that they came next day to

Nimes.

They found the town intensely excited, soldiers with fixed bayonets at

every street corner, all the houses shut up, and the gates of the town

closed, and no one allowed to leave without written permission from

Sandricourt. On the 20th, and during the following night, more than

fifty persons were arrested, amongst whom were Alison, the merchant in

whose house Ravanel, Villas, and Jonquet were found; Delacroix, Alison’s

brother-in-law, who, on hearing the noise of the struggle, had hidden on

the roof and was not discovered till next day; Jean Lauze, who was

accused of having prepared Ravanel’s supper; Lauze’s mother, a widow;

Tourelle, the maid-servant; the host of the Coupe d’Or, and a preacher

named La Jeunesse.

Great, however, as was the joy felt by the duke, the marquis, and de

Baville, it fell short of full perfection, for the most dangerous man

among the rebels was still at large; in spite of every effort, Catinat’s

hiding-place had not till now been discovered.

Accordingly, the duke issued a proclamation offering a reward of one

hundred Louis-d’or to whoever would take Catinat, or cause him to be

taken prisoner, and granting a free pardon to anyone who had sheltered

him, provided that he was denounced before the house-to-house visitation

which was about to be made took place. After the search began, the

master of the house in which he might be found would be hung at his own

door, his family thrown into prison, his goods confiscated, his house

razed to the ground, without any form of trial whatever.

This proclamation had the effect expected by the duke: whether the man

in whose house Catinat was concealed grew frightened and asked him to

leave, or whether Catinat thought his best course would be to try and

get away from the town, instead of remaining shut up in it, he dressed

himself one morning in suitable clothes, and went to a barber’s, who

shaved him, cut his hair, and made up his face so as to give him as much

the appearance of a nobleman as possible; and then with wonderful

assurance he went out into the streets, and pulling his hat over his

eyes and holding a paper in his hand as if reading it, he crossed the

town to the gate of St. Antoine. He was almost through when Charreau,

the captain of the guard, having his attention directed to Catinat by a

comrade to whom he was talking, stopped him, suspecting he was trying to

escape. Catinat asked what he wanted with him, and Charreau replied that

if he would enter the guard-house he would learn; as under such

circumstances any examination was to be avoided, Catinat tried to force

his way out; whereupon he was seized by Charreau and his

brother-officer, and Catinat seeing that resistance would be not only

useless but harmful, allowed himself to be taken to the guard-room.

He had been there about an hour without being recognised by any of those

who, drawn by curiosity, came to look at him, when one of the visitors

in going out said he bore a strong resemblance to Catinat; some children

hearing these words, began to shout, "Catinat is taken! Catinat is

taken!" This cry drew a large crowd to the guard-house, among others a

man whose name was Anglejas, who, looking closely at the prisoner,

recognised him and called him by name.

Instantly the guard was doubled, and Catinat searched: a psalm-book with

a silver clasp and a letter addressed to "M. Maurel, called Catinat,"

were found on him, leaving no doubt as to his identity; while he

himself, growing impatient, and desiring to end all these

investigations, acknowledged that he was Catinat and no other.

He was at once taken to the palace, where the Presidial Court was

sitting, M. de Baville and the president being occupied in trying

Ravanel, Villas, and Jonquet. On hearing the news of this important

capture, the intendant, hardly daring to believe his ears, rose and went

out to meet the prisoner, in order to convince himself that it was

really Catinat.

From the Presidial Court he was brought before the Duke of Berwick, who

addressed several questions to him, which Catinat answered; he then told

the duke he had something of importance to impart to him and to him

alone. The duke was not very anxious for a tete-a-tete with Catinat;

however, having ordered his hands to be securely bound, and telling

Sandricourt not to go away, he consented to hear what the prisoner had

to say.

Catinat then, in the presence of the duke and Sandricourt, proposed that

an exchange of prisoners should be made, the Marechal de Tallard, who

was a prisoner of war in England, being accepted in his place. Catinat

added that if this offer was not accepted, the marechal would meet the

same treatment from the English as might be meted out to him, Catinat,

in France. The duke, full of the aristocratic ideas to which he was

born, found the proposal insolent, and said, "If that is all you have to

propose, I can assure you that your hours are numbered."

Thereupon Catinat was promptly sent back to the palace, where truly his

trial did not occupy much time. That of the three others was already

finished, and soon his was also at an end, and it only remained to

pronounce sentence on all four. Catinat and Ravanel, as the most guilty,

were condemned to be burnt at the stake. Some of the councillors thought

Catinat should have been torn apart by four horses, but the majority

were for the stake, the agony lasting longer, being more violent and

more exquisite than in the of other case.

Villars and Jonquet were sentenced to be broken on the wheel alive—the

only difference between them being that Jonquet was to be to taken while

still living and thrown into the fire lit round Catinat and Ravael. It

was also ordered that the four condemned men before their execution

should be put to the torture ordinary and extraordinary. Catinat, whose

temper was fierce, suffered with courage, but cursed his torturers.

Ravanel bore all the torments that could be inflicted on him with a

fortitude that was more than human, so that the torturers were exhausted

before he was. Jonquet spoke little, and the revelations he made were of

slight importance. Villas confessed that the conspirators had the

intention of carrying off the duke and M. de Baville when they were out

walking or driving, and he added that this plot had been hatched at the

house of a certain Boeton de Saint-Laurent-d’Aigozre, at Milhaud, in

Rouergue.

Meanwhile all this torturing and questioning had taken so much time that

when the stake and the scaffold were ready it was almost dark, so that

the duke put off the executions until the next day, instead of carrying

them out by torchlight. Brueys says that this was done in order that the

most disaffected amongst the fanatics should not be able to say that it

was not really Catinat, Ravanel, Villas, and Jonquet who had been

executed but some other unknown men; but it is more probable that the

duke and Baville were afraid of riots, as was proved by their ordering

the scaffold and the stake to be erected at the end of the Cours and

opposite the glacis of the fortress, so that the garrison might be at

hand in case of any disturbance.

Catinat was placed in a cell apart, and could be, heard cursing and

complaining all night through. Ravanel, Villas, and Jonquet were

confined together, and passed the night singing and praying.

The next day, the 22nd April, 1705, they were taken from the prison and

drawn to the place of execution in two carts, being unable to walk, on

account of the severe torture to which they had been subjected, and

which had crushed the bones of their legs. A single pile of wood had

been prepared for Catinat and Ravanel, who were to be burnt together;

they were in one cart, and Villas and Jonquet, for whom two wheels had

been prepared, were in the other.

The first operation was to bind Catinat and Ravanel back to back to the

same stake, care being taken to place Catinat with his face to windward,

so that his agony might last longer, and then the pile was lit under

Ravanel.

As had been foreseen, this precaution gave great pleasure to those

people who took delight in witnessing executions. The wind being rather

high, blew the flames away from Catinat, so that at first the fire burnt

his legs only—a circumstance which, the author of the History of the

Camisards tells us, aroused Catinat’s impatience. Ravanel, however, bore

everything to the end with the greatest heroism, only pausing in his

singing to address words of encouragement to his companion in suffering,

whom he could not see, but whose groans and curses he could hear; he

would then return to his psalms, which he continued to sing until his

voice was stifled in the flames. Just as he expired, Jonquet was removed

from the wheel, and carried, his broken limbs dangling, to the burning

pile, on which he was thrown. From the midst of the flames his voice was

heard saying, "Courage, Catinat; we shall soon meet in heaven." A few

moments later, the stake, being burnt through at the base, broke, and

Catinat falling into the flames, was quickly suffocated. That this

accident had not been forseen and prevented by proper precautions caused

great displeasure to spectators who found that the three-quarter of an

hour which the spectacle had lasted was much too brief a time.

Villas lived three hours longer on his wheel, and expired without having

uttered a single complaint.

Two days later, there was another trial, at which six persons were

condemned to death and one to the galleys; these were the two Alisons,

in whose house Villas, Ravanel, and Jonquet had been found; Alegre, who

was accused of having concealed Catinat, and of having been the Camisard

treasurer; Rougier, an armourer who was found guilty of having repaired

the muskets of the rebels; Jean Lauze, an innkeeper who had prepared

meals for Ravanel; La Jeunesse, a preacher, convicted of having preached

sermons and sung psalms; and young Delacroix, brother-in-law to one of

the Alisons. The first three were condemned to be broken on the wheel,

their houses demolished, and their goods confiscated. The next three

were to be hanged. Jean Delacroix, partly because of his youth, but more

because of the revelations he made, was only sent to the galleys.

Several years later he was liberated and returned to Arles, and was

carried off by the plague in 1720.

All these sentences were carried out with the utmost rigour.

Thus, as may be seen, the suppression of the revolt proceeded apace;

only two young Camisard chiefs were still at large, both of whom had

formerly served under Cavalier and Catinat. The name of the one was Brun

and of the other Francezet. Although neither of them possessed the

genius and influence of Catinat and Ravanel, yet they were both men to

be feared, the one on account of his personal strength, the other for

his skill and agility. Indeed, it was said of him that he never missed a

shot, and that one day being pursued by dragoons he had escaped by

jumping over the Gardon at a spot where it was twenty-two feet wide.

For a long time all search was in vain, but one day the wife of a miller

named Semenil came into town ostensibly to buy provisions, but really to

denounce them as being concealed, with two other Camisards, in her

husband’s house.

This information was received with an eager gratitude, which showed the

importance which the governor of Nimes attached to their capture. The

woman was promised a reward of fifty Louis if they were taken, and the

Chevalier de la Valla, Grandidier, and fifty Swiss, the major of the

Saint-Sernin regiment, a captain, and thirty dragoons, were sent off to

make the capture. When they were within a quarter of a league of the

mill, La Valla, who was in command of the expedition, made the woman

give him all the necessary topographical information.

Having learned that besides the door by which they hoped to effect an

entrance, the mill possessed only one other, which opened on a bridge

over the Vistre, he despatched ten dragoons and five Swiss to occupy

this bridge, whilst he and the rest of the troops bore down on the main

entrance. As soon as the four Camisards perceived the approach of the

soldiers, their first thought was to escape by the bridge, but one of

them having gone up to the roof to make sure that the way was clear,

came down exclaiming that the bridge was occupied. On hearing this, the

four felt that they were lost, but nevertheless resolved to defend

themselves as valiantly and to sell their lives as dearly as possible.

As soon as the royals were within musket range of the mill, four shots

were fired, and two dragoons, one Swiss, and one horse, fell. M. de

Valla thereupon ordered the troops to charge at full gallop, but before

the mill door was reached three other shots were heard, and two more men

killed. Nevertheless, seeing they could not long hold out against such

numbers, Francezet gave the signal for retreat, calling out, "Sauve qui

petit!" at the same instant he jumped out of a lattice window twenty

feet from the ground, followed by Brun. Neither of them being hurt, both

set off across country, one trusting to his strength and the other to

his fleetness of foot. The two other Camisards, who had tried to escape

by the door, were captured.

The soldiers, horse and foot, being now free to give all their attention

to Brun and Francezet, a wonderful race began; for the two fugitives,

being strong and active, seemed to play with their pursuers, stopping

every now and then, when they had gained sufficient headway, to shoot at

the nearest soldiers; when Francezet, proving worthy of his reputation,

never missed a single shot. Then, resuming their flight and loading

their weapons as they ran, they leaped rivers and ditches, taking

advantage of the less direct road which the troops were obliged to

follow, to stop and take breath, instead of making for some cover where

they might have found safety. Two or three times Brun was on the point

of being caught, but each time the dragoon or Swiss who had got up to

him fell, struck by Francezet’s unerring bullet. The chase lasted four

hours, during which time five officers, thirty dragoons, and fifty Swiss

were baffled by two men, one of whom Francezet was almost a boy, being

only twenty years old! Then the two Camisards, having exhausted their

ammunition, gave each other the name of a village as a rendezvous, and

each taking a different direction, bounded away with the lightness of a

stag. Francezet ran in the direction of Milhaud with such rapidity that

he gained on the dragoons, although they put their horses at full speed.

He was within an inch of safety, when a peasant named La Bastide, who

was hoeing in a field, whence he had watched the contest with interest

from the moment he had first caught sight of it, seeing the fugitive

make for an opening in a wall, ran along at the foot of the wall on the

other side, and, just as Francezet dashed through the opening like a

flash of lightning, struck him such a heavy blow on the head with his

hoe that the skull was laid open, and he fell bathed in blood.

The dragoons, who had seen in the distance what had happened, now came

up, and rescued Francezet from the hands of his assailant, who had

continued to rain blows upon him, desiring to put an end to him. The

unconscious Camisard was carried to Milhaud, where his wounds were

bandaged, and himself revived by means of strong spirits forced into

mouth and nostrils.

We now return to Brun. At first it seemed as if he were more fortunate

than his comrade; for, meeting with no obstacle, he was soon not only

out of reach, but out of sight of his enemies. He now, however, felt

broken by fatigue, and taught caution by the treachery to which he had

almost fallen a victim, he dared not ask for an asylum, so, throwing

himself down in a ditch, he was soon fast asleep. The dragoons, who had

not given up the search, presently came upon him, and falling on him as

he lay, overpowered him before he was well awake.

When both Camisards met before the governor, Francezet replied to all

interrogations that since the death of brother Catinat his sole desire

had been to die a martyr’s death like him; while Brun said that he was

proud and happy to die in the cause of the Lord along with such a brave

comrade as Francezet. This manner of defence led to the application of

the question both ordinary and extraordinary, and to the stake; and our

readers already know what such a double sentence meant. Francezet and

Brun paid both penalties on the 30th of April, betraying no secrets and

uttering no complaints.

Boeton, who had been denounced by Villas when under torture (and who

thereby abridged his agony) as the person in whose house the plot to

carry off the Duke of Berwick and de Baville had been arranged, still

remained to be dealt with.

He was moderate in his religious views, but firm and full of faith; his

principles resembled those of the Quakers in that he refused to carry

arms; he was, however, willing to aid the good cause by all other means

within his reach. He was at home waiting, with that calm which perfect

trust in God gives, for the day to come which had been appointed for the

execution of the plan, when suddenly his house was surrounded during the

night by the royals. Faithful to his principles, he offered no

resistance, but held out his hands to be bound. He was taken in triumph

to Nimes, and from there to the citadel of Montpellier. On the way he

encountered his wife and his son, who were going to the latter town to

intercede for him. When they met him, they dismounted from their horse,

for the mother was riding on a pillion behind the son, and kneeling on

the highroad, asked for Boeton’s blessing. Unfeeling though the soldiers

were, they yet permitted their prisoner to stop an instant, while he,

raising his fettered hands to heaven, gave the double blessing asked

for. So touched was Baron Saint-Chatte by the scene (be it remarked in

passing that the baron and Boeton were cousins by marriage) that he

permitted them to embrace one another, so for a few moments they stood,

the husband and father clasped to the hearts of his dear ones; then, on

a sign from Boeton, they tore themselves away, Boeton commanding them to

pray for M. de Saint-Chatte, who had given them this consolation. As he

resumed his march the prisoner set them the example by beginning to sing

a psalm for the benefit of M. de Saint-Chatte.

The next day, despite the intercession of his wife and son, Boeton was

condemned to torture both ordinary and extraordinary, and then to be

broken on the wheel. On hearing this cruel sentence, he said that he was

ready to suffer every ill that God might send him in order to prove the

steadfastness of his faith.

And indeed he endured his torture with such firmness, that M. de

Baville, who was present in the hope of obtaining a confession, became

more impatient than the sufferer, and, forgetting his sacred office, the

judge struck and insulted the prisoner. Upon this Baeton raised his eyes

to heaven and cried, "Lord, Lord! how long shall the wicked triumph? How

long shall innocent blood be shed? How long wilt Thou not judge and

avenge our blood with cries to Thee? Remember Thy jealousy, O Lord, and

Thy loving-kindness of old!" Then M. de Baville withdrew, giving orders

that he was to be brought to the scaffold.

The scaffold was erected on the Esplanade: being, as was usual when this

sort of death was to be inflicted, a wooden platform five or six feet

high, on which was fastened flat a St. Andrew’s cross, formed of two

beams of wood in the form of an X. In each of the four arms two square

pieces were cut out to about half the depth of the beam, and about a

foot apart, so that when the victim was bound on the cross the

outstretched limbs were easy to break by a blow at these points, having

no support beneath. Lastly, near the cross, at one corner of the

scaffold an upright wooden post was fixed, on which was fastened

horizontally a small carriage wheel, as on a pivot, the projecting part

of the nave being sawn off to make it flat. On this bed of pain the

sufferer was laid, so that the spectators might enjoy the sight of his

dying convulsions when, the executioner having accomplished his part,

the turn of death arrived.

Boeton was carried to execution in a cart, and drums were beaten that

his exhortations might not be heard. But above the roll of drums his

voice rose unfalteringly, as he admonished his brethren to uphold their

fellowship in Christ.

Half-way to the Esplanade a friend of the condemned man, who happened to

be in the street, met the procession, and fearing that he could not

support the sight, he took refuge in a shop. When Boeton was opposite

the door, he stopped the cart and asked permission of the provost to

speak to his friend. The request being granted, he called him out, and

as he approached, bathed in tears, Boeton said, "Why do you run away

from me? Is it because you see me covered with the tokens of Jesus

Christ? Why do you weep because He has graciously called me to Himself,

and all unworthy though I be, permits me to seal my faith with my

blood?" Then, as the friend threw himself into Boeton’s arms and some

signs of sympathetic emotion appeared among the crowd; the procession

was abruptly ordered to move on; but though the leave-taking was thus

roughly broken short, no murmur passed the lips of Boeton.

In turning out of the first street, the scaffold came in sight; the

condemned man raised his hands towards heaven, and exclaimed in a

cheerful voice, while a smile lit up his face, "Courage, my soul! I see

thy place of triumph, whence, released from earthly bonds, thou shall

take flight to heaven."

When he got to the foot of the scaffold, it was found he could not mount

without assistance; for his limbs, crushed in the terrible "boot," could

no longer sustain his weight. While they were preparing to carry him up,

he exhorted and comforted the Protestants, who were all weeping round

him. When he reached the platform he laid himself of his own accord on

the cross; but hearing from the executioner that he must first be

undressed, he raised himself again with a smile, so that the

executioner’s assistant could remove his doublet and small-clothes. As

he wore no stockings, his legs being bandaged the man also unwound these

bandages, and rolled up Boeton’s shirts-sleeves to the elbow, and then

ordered him to lay himself again on the cross. Boeton did so with

unbroken calm. All his limbs were then bound to the beams with cords at

every joint; this accomplished, the assistant retired, and the

executioner came forward. He held in his hand a square bar of iron, an

inch and a half thick, three feet long, and rounded at one end so as to

form a handle.

When Boeton saw it he began singing a psalm, but almost immediately the

melody was interrupted by a cry: the executioner had broken a bone of

Boeton’s right leg; but the singing was at once resumed, and continued

without interruption till each limb had been broken in two places. Then

the executioner unbound the formless but still living body from the

cross, and while from its lips issued words of faith in God he laid it

on the wheel, bending it back on the legs in such a manner that the

heels and head met; and never once during the completion of this

atrocious performance did the voice of the sufferer cease to sound forth

the praises of the Lord.

No execution till then had ever produced such an effect on the crowd, so

that Abbe Massilla, who was present, seeing the general emotion,

hastened to call M. de Baville’s attention to the fact that, far from

Boeton’s death inspiring the Protestants with terror, they were only

encouraged to hold out, as was proved by their tears, and the praises

they lavished on the dying man.

M. de Baville, recognising the truth of this observation, ordered that

Boeton should be put out of misery. This order being conveyed to

the executioner, he approached the wheel to break in Boeton’s chest

with one last blow; but an archer standing on the scaffold threw

himself before the sufferer, saying that the Huguenot had not yet

suffered half enough. At this, Boeton, who had heard the dreadful

dispute going on beside him, interrupted his prayers for an

instant, and raising his head, which hung down over the edge of the

wheel, said, "Friend, you think I suffer, and in truth I do; but He

for whom I suffer is beside me and gives me strength to bear

everything joyfully." Just then M. de Baville’s order was repeated,

and the archer, no longer daring to interfere, allowed the

executioner to approach. Then Boeton, seeing his last moment had

come, said, "My dear friends, may my death be an example to you, to

incite you to preserve the gospel pure; bear faithful testimony

that I died in the religion of Christ and His holy apostles."

Hardly had these words passed his lips, than the death-blow was

given and his chest crushed; a few inarticulate sounds, apparently

prayers, were heard; the head fell back, the martyrdom was ended.

This execution ended the war in Languedoc. A few imprudent preachers

still delivered belated sermons, to which the rebels listened trembling

with fear, and for which the preachers paid on the wheel or gibbet.

There were disturbances in Vivarais, aroused by Daniel Billard, during

which a few Catholics were found murdered on the highway; there were a

few fights, as for instance at Sainte-Pierre-Ville, where the Camisards,

faithful to the old traditions which had come to them from Cavalier,

Catinat, and Ravenal, fought one to twenty, but they were all without

importance; they were only the last quiverings of the dying civil

strife, the last shudderings of the earth when the eruption of the

volcano is over.

Even Cavalier understood that the end had come, for he left Holland for

England. There Queen Anne distinguished him by a cordial welcome; she

invited him to enter her service, an offer which he accepted, and he was

placed in command of a regiment of refugees; so that he actually

received in England the grade of colonel, which he had been offered in

France. At the battle of Almanza the regiment commanded by Cavalier

found itself opposed by a French regiment. The old enemies recognised

each other, and with a howl of rage, without waiting for the word of

command or executing any military evolutions, they hurled themselves at

each other with such fury that, if we may believe the Duke of Berwick,

who was present, they almost annihilated each other in the conflict.

Cavalier, however, survived the slaughter, in which he had performed his

part with energy; and for his courage was made general and governor of

the island of Jersey. He died at Chelsea in May 1740, aged sixty years.

"I must confess," says Malesherbes, "that this soldier, who without

training became a great general by means of his natural gifts; this

Camisard, who dared in the face of fierce troopers to punish a crime

similar to those by which the troopers existed; this rude peasant, who,

admitted into the best society; adopted its manners and gained its

esteem and love; this man, who though accustomed to an adventurous life,

and who might justly have been puffed up by success, had yet enough

philosophy to lead for thirty-five years a tranquil private existence,

appears to me to be one of the rarest characters to be met with in the

pages of history."

CHAPTER VI

At length Louis XIV, bowed beneath the weight of a reign of sixty years,

was summoned in his turn to appear before God, from whom, as some said,

he looked for reward, and others for pardon. But Nimes, that city with

the heart of fire, was quiet; like the wounded who have lost the best

part of their blood, she thought only, with the egotism of a

convalescent, of being left in peace to regain the strength which had

become exhausted through the terrible wounds which Montrevel and the

Duke of Berwick had dealt her. For sixty years petty ambition had taken

the place of sublime self-sacrifice, and disputes about etiquette

succeeded mortal combats. Then the philosophic era dawned, and the

sarcasms of the encyclopedists withered the monarchical intolerance of

Louis XIV and Charles IX. Thereupon the Protestants resumed their

preaching, baptized their children and buried their dead, commerce

flourished once more, and the two religions lived side by side, one

concealing under a peaceful exterior the memory of its martyrs, the

other the memory of its triumphs. Such was the mood on which the

blood-red orb of the sun of ’89 rose. The Protestants greeted it with

cries of joy, and indeed the promised liberty gave them back their

country, their civil rights, and the status of French citizens.

Nevertheless, whatever were the hopes of one party or the fears of the

other, nothing had as yet occurred to disturb the prevailing

tranquillity, when, on the 19th and 20th of July, 1789, a body of troops

was formed in the capital of La Gard which was to bear the name of the

Nimes Militia: the resolution which authorised this act was passed by

the citizens of the three orders sitting in the hall of the palace.

It was as follows:—

"Article 10. The Nimes Legion shall consist of a colonel, a

lieutenant-colonel, a major, a lieutenant-major, an adjutant,

twenty-four captains, twenty-four lieutenants, seventy-two sergeants,

seventy-two corporals, and eleven hundred and fifty-two privates—in all,

thirteen hundred and forty-nine men, forming eighty companies.

"Article 11. The place of general assembly shall be, the Esplanade.

"Article 12. The eighty companies shall be attached to the four quarters

of the town mentioned below—viz., place de l’Hotel-de-Ville, place de la

Maison-Carree, place Saint-Jean, and place du Chateau.

"Article 13. The companies as they are formed by the permanent council

shall each choose its own captain, lieutenant, sergeants and corporals,

and from the date of his nomination the captain shall have a seat on the

permanent council."

The Nimes Militia was deliberately formed upon certain lines which

brought Catholics and Protestants closely together as allies, with

weapons in their hands; but they stood over a mine which was bound to

explode some day, as the slightest friction between the two parties

would produce a spark.

This state of concealed enmity lasted for nearly a year, being augmented

by political antipathies; for the Protestants almost to man were

Republicans, and the Catholics Royalists.

In the interval—that is to say, towards January, 1790—a Catholic called

Francois Froment was entrusted by the Marquis de Foucault with the task

of raising, organising, and commanding a Royalist party in the South.

This we learn from one of his own letters to the marquis, which was

printed in Paris in 1817. He describes his mode of action in the

following words:—

It is not difficult to understand that being faithful to my religion and

my king, and shocked at the seditious ideas which were disseminated on

all sides, I should try to inspire others with the same spirit with

which I myself was animated, so, during the year 1789, I published

several articles in which I exposed the dangers which threatened altar

and throne. Struck with the justice of my criticisms, my countrymen

displayed the most zealous ardor in their efforts to restore to the king

the full exercise of all his rights. Being anxious to take advantage of

this favourable state of feeling, and thinking that it would be

dangerous to hold communication with the ministers of Louis XVI, who

were watched by the conspirators, I went secretly to Turin to solicit

the approbation and support of the French princes there. At a

consultation which was held just after my arrival, I showed them that if

they would arm not only the partisans of the throne, but those of the

altar, and advance the interests of religion while advancing the

interests of royalty, it would be easy to save both.

"My plan had for sole object to bind a party together, and give it as

far as I was able breadth and stability.

"As the revolutionists placed their chief dependence on force, I felt

that they could only be met by force; for then as now I was convinced of

this great truth, that one strong passion can only be overcome by

another stronger, and that therefore republican fanaticism could only be

driven out by religious zeal.

"The princes being convinced of the correctness of my reasoning and the

efficacy of my remedies, promised me the arms and supplies necessary to

stem the tide of faction, and the Comte d’Artois gave me letters of

recommendation to the chief nobles in Upper Languedoc, that I might

concert measures with them; for the nobles in that part of the country

had assembled at Toulouse to deliberate on the best way of inducing the

other Orders to unite in restoring to the Catholic religion its useful

influence, to the laws their power, and to the king his liberty and

authority.

"On my return to Languedoc, I went from town to town in order to meet

those gentlemen to whom the Comte d’Artois had written, among whom were

many of the most influential Royalists and some members of the States of

Parliament. Having decided on a general plan, and agreed on a method of

carrying on secret correspondence with each other, I went to Nimes to

wait for the assistance which I had been promised from Turin, but which

I never received. While waiting, I devoted myself to awakening and

sustaining the zeal of the inhabitants, who at my suggestion, on the

20th April, passed a resolution, which was signed by 5,000 inhabitants."

This resolution, which was at once a religious and political manifesto,

was drafted by Viala, M. Froment’s secretary, and it lay for signature

in his office. Many of the Catholics signed it without even reading it,

for there was a short paragraph prefixed to the document which contained

all the information they seemed to desire.

"GENTLEMEN,—The aspirations of a great number of our Catholic and

patriotic fellow-citizens are expressed in the resolution which we have

the honour of laying before you. They felt that under present

circumstances such a resolution was necessary, and they feel convinced

that if you give it your support, as they do not doubt you will, knowing

your patriotism, your religious zeal, and your love for our august

sovereign, it will conduce to the happiness of France, the maintenance

of the true religion, and the rightful authority of the king.

"We are, gentlemen, with respect, your very humble and obedient

servants, the President and Commissioners of the Catholic Assembly of

Nimes.

"(Signed):

"FROMENT, Commissioner

LAPIERRE, President

FOLACHER, "

LEVELUT, Commissioner

FAURE,

MELCHIOND, "

ROBIN, "

VIGNE, " "

At the same time a number of pamphlets, entitled Pierre Roman to the

Catholics of Nimes, were distributed to the people in the streets,

containing among other attacks on the Protestants the following

passages:

"If the door to high positions and civil and military honours were

closed to the Protestants, and a powerful tribunal established at Nimes

to see that this rule were strictly kept, you would soon see

Protestantism disappear.

"The Protestants demand to share all the privileges which you enjoy, but

if you grant them this, their one thought will then be to dispossess you

entirely, and they will soon succeed.

"Like ungrateful vipers, who in a torpid state were harmless, they will

when warmed by your benefits turn and kill you.

"They are your born enemies: your fathers only escaped as by a miracle

from their blood-stained hands. Have you not often heard of the

cruelties practised on them? It was a slight thing when the Protestants

inflicted death alone, unaccompanied by the most horrible tortures. Such

as they were such they are."

It may easily be imagined that such attacks soon embittered minds

already disposed to find new causes for the old hatred, and besides the

Catholics did not long confine themselves to resolutions and pamphlets.

Froment, who had already got himself appointed Receiver-General of the

Chapter and captain of one of the Catholic companies, insisted on being

present at the installation of the Town Council, and brought his company

with him armed with pitchforks, in spite of the express prohibition of

the colonel of the legion. These forks were terrible weapons, and had

been fabricated in a particular form for the Catholics of Nimes, Uzes,

and Alais. But Froment and his company paid no attention to the

prohibition, and this disobedience made a great impression on the

Protestants, who began to divine the hostility of their adversaries, and

it is very possible that if the new Town Council had not shut their eyes

to this act of insubordination, civil war might have burst forth in

Nimes that very day.

The next day, at roll-call, a sergeant of another company, one Allien, a

cooper by trade, taunted one of the men with having carried a pitchfork

the day before, in disobedience to orders. He replied that the mayor had

permitted him to carry it; Allien not believing this, proposed to some

of the men to go with him to the mayor’s and ask if it were true. When

they saw M. Marguerite, he said that he had permitted nothing of the

kind, and sent the delinquent to prison. Half an hour later, however, he

gave orders for his release.

As soon as he was free he set off to find his comrades, and told them

what had occurred: they, considering that an insult to one was an insult

to the whole company, determined on having satisfaction at once, so

about eleven o’clock P.M. they went to the cooper’s house, carrying with

them a gallows and ropes ready greased. But quietly as they approached,

Allien heard them, for his door being bolted from within had to be

forced. Looking out of the window, he saw a great crowd, and as he

suspected that his life was in danger, he got out of a back window into

the yard and so escaped. The militia being thus disappointed, wreaked

their vengeance on some passing Protestants, whose unlucky stars had led

them that way; these they knocked about, and even stabbed one of them

three times with a knife.

On the 22nd April, 1790, the royalists—that is to say, the

Catholics—assumed the white cockade, although it was no longer the

national emblem, and on the 1st May some of the militia who had planted

a maypole at the mayor’s door were invited to lunch with him. On the

2nd, the company which was on guard at the mayor’s official residence

shouted several times during the day, "Long live the king! Up with the

Cross and down with the black throats!" (This was the name which they

had given to the Calvinists.) "Three cheers for the white cockade!

Before we are done, it will be red with the blood of the Protestants!"

However, on the 5th of May they ceased to wear it, replacing it by a

scarlet tuft, which in their patois they called the red pouf, which was

immediately adopted as the Catholic emblem.

Each day as it passed brought forth fresh brawls and provocations:

libels were invented by the Capuchins, and spread abroad by three of

their number. Meetings were held every day, and at last became so

numerous that the town authorities called in the aid of the

militia-dragoons to disperse them. Now these gatherings consisted

chiefly of those tillers of the soil who are called cebets, from a

Provencal word cebe, which means "onion," and they could easily be

recognised as Catholics by their red pouf, which they wore both in and

out of uniform. On the other hand, the dragoons were all Protestants.

However, these latter were so very gentle in their admonitions, that

although the two parties found themselves, so to speak, constantly face

to face and armed, for several days the meetings were dispersed without

bloodshed. But this was exactly what the cebets did not want, so they

began to insult the dragoons and turn them into ridicule. Consequently,

one morning they gathered together in great numbers, mounted on asses,

and with drawn swords began to patrol the city.

At the same time, the lower classes, who were nearly all Catholics,

joined the burlesque patrols in complaining loudly of the dragoons, some

saying that their horses had trampled on their children, and others that

they had frightened their wives.

The Protestants contradicted them, both parties grew angry, swords were

half drawn, when the municipal authorities came on the scene, and

instead of apprehending the ringleaders, forbade the dragoons to patrol

the town any more, ordering them in future to do nothing more than send

twenty men every day to mount guard at the episcopal palace and to

undertake no other duty except at the express request of the Town

Council. Although it was expected that the dragoons would revolt against

such a humiliation, they submitted, which was a great disappointment to

the cebets, who had been longing for a chance to indulge in new

outrages. For all that, the Catholics did not consider themselves

beaten; they felt sure of being able to find some other way of driving

their quarry to bay.

Sunday, the 13th of June, arrived. This day had been selected by the

Catholics for a great demonstration. Towards ten o’clock in the morning,

some companies wearing the red tuft, under pretext of going to mass,

marched through the city armed and uttering threats. The few dragoons,

on the other hand, who were on guard at the palace, had not even a

sentinel posted, and had only five muskets in the guard-house. At two

o’clock P.M. there was a meeting held in the Jacobin church, consisting

almost exclusively of militia wearing the red tuft. The mayor pronounced

a panegyric on those who wore it, and was followed by Pierre Froment,

who explained his mission in much the same words as those quoted above.

He then ordered a cask of wine to be broached and distributed among the

cebets, and told them to walk about the streets in threes, and to disarm

all the dragoons whom they might meet away from their post. About six

o’clock in the evening a red-tuft volunteer presented himself at the

gate of the palace, and ordered the porter to sweep the courtyard,

saying that the volunteers were going to get up a ball for the dragoons.

After this piece of bravado he went away, and in a few moments a note

arrived, couched in the following terms:

"The bishop’s porter is warned to let no dragoon on horse or on foot

enter or leave the palace this evening, on pain of death.

"13th June 1790."

This note being brought to the lieutenant, he came out, and reminded the

volunteer that nobody but the town authorities could give orders to the

servants at the palace. The volunteer gave an insolent answer, the

lieutenant advised him to go away quietly, threatening if he did not to

put him out by force. This altercation attracted a great many of the

red-tufts from outside, while the dragoons, hearing the noise, came down

into the yard; the quarrel became more lively, stones were thrown, the

call to arms was heard, and in a few moments about forty cebets, who

were prowling around in the neighbourhood of the palace, rushed into the

yard carrying guns and swords. The lieutenant, who had only about a

dozen dragoons at his back, ordered the bugle to sound, to recall those

who had gone out; the volunteers threw themselves upon the bugler,

dragged his instrument from his hands, and broke it to pieces. Then

several shots were fired by the militia, the dragoons returned them, and

a regular battle began. The lieutenant soon saw that this was no mere

street row, but a deliberate rising planned beforehand, and realising

that very serious consequences were likely to ensue, he sent a dragoon

to the town hall by a back way to give notice to the authorities.

M. de Saint-Pons, major of the Nimes legion, hearing some noise

outside, opened his window, and found the whole city in a tumult:

people were running in every direction, and shouting as they ran

that the dragoons were being killed at the palace. The major rushed

out into the streets at once, gathered together a dozen to fifteen

patriotic citizens without weapons, and hurried to the town hall:

There he found two officials of the town, and begged them to go at

once to the place de l’Eveche, escorted by the first company, which

was on guard at the town hall. They agreed, and set off. On the way

several shots were fired at them, but no one was hit. When they

arrived at the square, the cebets fired a volley at them with the

same negative result. Up the three principal streets which led to

the palace numerous red-tufts were hurrying; the first company took

possession of the ends of the streets, and being fired at returned

the fire, repulsing the assailants and clearing the square, with

the loss of one of their men, while several of the retreating

cebets were wounded.

While this struggle was going on at the palace, the spirit of murder

broke loose in the town.

At the gate of the Madeleine, M. de Jalabert’s house was broken into by

the red-tufts; the unfortunate old man came out to meet them and asked

what they wanted. "Your life and the lives of all the other dogs of

Protestants!" was the reply. Whereupon he was seized and dragged through

the streets, fifteen insurgents hacking at him with their swords.

At last he managed to escape from their hands, but died two days later

of his wounds.

Another old man named Astruc, who was bowed beneath the weight of

seventy-two years and whose white hair covered his shoulders, was met as

he was on his way to the gate of Carmes. Being recognised as a

Protestant, he received five wounds from some of the famous pitchforks

belonging to the company of Froment. He fell, but the assassins picked

him up, and throwing him into the moat, amused themselves by flinging

stones at him, till one of them, with more humanity than his fellows,

put a bullet through his head.

Three electors—M. Massador from near Beaucaire, M. Vialla from the

canton of Lasalle, and M. Puech of the same place-were attacked by

red-tufts on their way home, and all three seriously wounded. The

captain who had been in command of the detachment on guard at the

Electoral Assembly was returning to his quarters, accompanied by a

sergeant and three volunteers of his own company, when they were stopped

on the Petit-Cours by Froment, commonly called Damblay, who, pressing

the barrel of a pistol to the captain’s breast, said, "Stand, you

rascal, and give up your arms." At the same time the red-tufts, seizing

the captain from behind by the hair, pulled him down. Froment fired his

pistol, but missed. As he fell the captain drew his sword, but it was

torn from his hands, and he received a cut from Froment’s sword. Upon

this the captain made a great effort, and getting one of his arms free,

drew a pistol from his pocket, drove back his assassins, fired at

Froment, and missed him. One of the men by his side was wounded and

disarmed.

A patrol of the regiment of Guienne, attached to which was M. Boudon, a

dragoon officer, was passing the Calquieres. M. Boudon was attacked by a

band of red-tufts and his casque and his musket carried off. Several

shots were fired at him, but none of them hit him; the patrol surrounded

him to save him, but as he had received two bayonet wounds, he desired

revenge, and, breaking through his protectors, darted forward to regain

possession of his musket, and was killed in a moment. One of his fingers

was cut off to get at a diamond ring which he wore, his pockets were

rifled of his purse and watch, and his body was thrown into the moat.

Meantime the place-des-Recollets, the Cours, the place-des-Carmes, the

Grand-Rue, and rue de Notre Dame-de-l’Esplanade were filled with men

armed with guns, pitchforks, and swords. They had all come from

Froment’s house, which overlooked that part of Nimes called Les

Calquieres, and the entrance to which was on the ramparts near the

Dominican Towers. The three leaders of the insurrection—Froment.

Folacher, and Descombiez—took possession of these towers, which formed a

part of the old castle; from this position the Catholics could sweep the

entire quay of Les Calquieres and the steps of the Salle de Spectacle

with their guns, and if it should turn out that the insurrection they

had excited did not attain the dimensions they expected nor gain such

enthusiastic adherents, it would be quite feasible for them to defend

themselves in such a position until relief came.

These arrangements were either the result of long meditation or were the

inspiration of some clever strategist. The fact is that everything leads

one to believe that it was a plan which had been formed with great care,

for the rapidity with which all the approaches to the fortress were

lined with a double row of militiamen all wearing the red tuft, the care

which was taken to place the most eager next the barracks in which the

park of artillery was stationed, and lastly, the manner in which the

approach to the citadel was barred by an entire company (this being the

only place where the patriots could procure arms), combine to prove that

this plan was the result of much forethought; for, while it appeared to

be only defensive, it enabled the insurrectionists to attack without

much, danger; it caused others to believe that they had been first

attacked. It was successfully carried out before the citizens were

armed, and until then only a part of the foot guard and the twelve

dragoons at the palace had offered any resistance to the conspirators.

The red flag round which, in case of civil war, all good citizens were

expected to gather, and which was kept at the town hall, and which

should have been brought out at the first shot, was now loudly called

for. The Abbe de Belmont, a canon, vicar-general, and municipal

official, was persuaded, almost forced, to become standard-bearer, as

being the most likely on account of his ecclesiastical position to awe

rebels who had taken up arms in the name of religion. The abbe himself

gives the following account of the manner in which he fulfilled this

mandate:

"About seven o’clock in the evening I was engaged with MM. Porthier and

Ferrand in auditing accounts, when we heard a noise in the court, and

going out on the lobby, we saw several dragoons coming upstairs, amongst

whom was M. Paris. They told us that fighting was going on in the place

de-l’Eveche, because some one or other had brought a note to the porter

ordering him to admit no more dragoons to the palace on pain of death.

At this point I interrupted their story by asking why the gates had not

been closed and the bearer of the letter arrested, but they replied to

me that it had not been possible; thereupon MM. Ferrand and Ponthier put

on their scarfs and went out.

"A few instants later several dragoons, amongst whom I recognised none

but MM. Lezan du Pontet, Paris junior, and Boudon, accompanied by a

great number of the militia, entered, demanding that the red flag should

be brought out. They tried to open the door of the council hall, and

finding it locked, they called upon me for the key. I asked that one of

the attendants should be sent for, but they were all out; then I went to

the hall-porter to see if he knew where the key was. He said M. Berding

had taken it. Meanwhile, just as the volunteers were about to force an

entrance, someone ran up with the key. The door was opened, and the red

flag seized and forced into my hands. I was then dragged down into the

courtyard, and from thence to the square.

"It was all in vain to tell them that they ought first to get authority,

and to represent to them that I was no suitable standard-bearer on

account of my profession; but they would not listen to any objection,

saying that my life depended upon my obedience, and that my profession

would overawe the disturbers of the public peace. So I went on, followed

by a detachment of the Guienne regiment, part of the first company of

the legion, and several dragoons; a young man with fixed bayonet kept

always at my side. Rage was depicted on the faces of all those who

accompanied me, and they indulged in oaths and threats, to which I paid

no attention.

"In passing through the rue des Greffes they complained that I did not

carry the red flag high enough nor unfurl it fully. When we got to the

guardhouse at the Crown Gate, the guard turned out, and the officer was

commanded to follow us with his men. He replied that he could not do

that without a written order from a member of the Town Council.

Thereupon those around me told me I must write such an order, but I

asked for a pen and ink; everybody was furious because I had none with

me. So offensive were the remarks indulged in by the volunteers and some

soldiers of the Guienne regiment, and so threatening their gestures,

that I grew alarmed. I was hustled and even received several blows; but

at length M. de Boudon brought me paper and a pen, and I wrote:—’I

require the troops to assist us to maintain order by force if

necessary.’ Upon this, the officer consented to accompany us. We had

hardly taken half a dozen steps when they all began to ask what had

become of the order I had just written, for it could not be found. They

surrounded me, saying that I had not written it at all, and I was on the

point of being trampled underfoot, when a militiaman found it all

crumpled up in his pocket. The threats grew louder, and once more it was

because I did not carry the flag high enough, everyone insisting that I

was quite tall enough to display it to better advantage.

"However, at this point the militiamen with the red tufts made their

appearance, a few armed with muskets but the greater number with swords;

shots were exchanged, and the soldiers of the line and the National

Guard arranged themselves in battle order, in a kind of recess, and

desired me to go forward alone, which I refused to do, because I should

have been between two fires.

"Upon this, curses, threats, and blows reached their height. I was

dragged out before the troops and struck with the butt ends of their

muskets and the flat of their swords until I advanced. One blow that I

received between the shoulders filled my mouth with blood.

"All this time those of the opposite party were coming nearer, and those

with whom I was continued to yell at me to go on. I went on until I met

them. I besought them to retire, even throwing myself at their feet. But

all persuasion was in vain; they swept me along with them, making me

enter by the Carmelite Gate, where they took the flag from me and

allowed me to enter the house of a woman whose name I have never known.

I was spitting such a quantity of blood that she took pity on me and

brought me everything she could think of as likely to do me good, and as

soon as I was a little revived I asked to be shown the way to M.

Ponthier’s."

While Abbe de Belmont was carrying the red flag the militia forced the

Town Councillors to proclaim martial law. This had just been done when

word was brought that the first red flag had been carried off, so M.

Ferrand de Missol got out another, and, followed by a considerable

escort, took the same road as his colleague, Abbe de Belmont. When he

arrived at the Calquieres, the red-tufts, who still adorned the ramparts

and towers, began to fire upon the procession, and one of the militia

was disabled; the escort retreated, but M. Ferrand advanced alone to the

Carmelite Gate, like M. de Belmont, and like him, he too, was taken

prisoner.

He was brought to the tower, where he found Froment in a fury, declaring

that the Council had not kept its promise, having sent no relief, and

having delayed to give up the citadel to him.

The escort, however, had only retreated in order to seek help; they

rushed tumultuously to the barracks, and finding the regiment of Guienne

drawn up in marching order in command of Lieutenant-Colonel Bonne, they

asked him to follow them, but he refused without a written order from a

Town Councillor. Upon this an old corporal shouted, "Brave soldiers of

Guienne! the country is in danger, let us not delay to do our duty."

"Yes, yes," cried the soldiers; "let us march" The lieutenant colonel no

longer daring to resist, gave the word of command, and they set off for

the Esplanade.

As they came near the rampart with drums beating, the firing ceased, but

as night was coming on the new-comers did not dare to risk attacking,

and moreover the silence of the guns led them to think that the rebels

had given up their enterprise. Having remained an hour in the square,

the troops returned to their quarters, and the patriots went to pass the

night in an inclosure on the Montpellier road.

It almost seemed as if the Catholics were beginning to recognise the

futility of their plot; for although they had appealed to fanaticism,

forced the Town Council to do their will, scattered gold lavishly and

made wine flow, out of eighteen companies only three had joined them.

"Fifteen companies," said M. Alquier in his report to the National

Assembly, "although they had adopted the red tuft, took no part in the

struggle, and did not add to the number of crimes committed either on

that day or during the days that followed. But although the Catholics

gained few partisans among their fellow-citizens, they felt certain that

people from the country would rally to their aid; but about ten o’clock

in the evening the rebel ringleaders, seeing that no help arrived from

that quarter either, resolved to apply a stimulus to those without.

Consequently, Froment wrote the following letter to M. de Bonzols,

under-commandant of the province of Languedoc, who was living at Lunel:

"SIR, Up to the present all my demands, that the Catholic companies

should be put under arms, have been of no avail. In spite of the order

that you gave at my request, the officials of the municipality were of

opinion that it would be more prudent to delay the distribution of the

muskets until after the meeting of the Electoral Assembly. This day the

Protestant dragoons have attacked and killed several of our unarmed

Catholics, and you may imagine the confusion and alarm that prevail in

the town. As a good citizen and a true patriot, I entreat you to send an

order to the regiment of royal dragoons to repair at once to Nimes to

restore tranquillity and put down all who break the peace. The Town

Council does not meet, none of them dares to leave his house; and if you

receive no requisition from them just now, it is because they go in

terror of their lives and fear to appear openly. Two red flags have been

carried about the streets, and municipal officers without guards have

been obliged to take refuge in patriotic houses. Although I am only a

private citizen, I take the liberty of asking for aid from you, knowing

that the Protestants have sent to La Vannage and La Gardonninque to ask

you for reinforcements, and the arrival of fanatics from these districts

would expose all good patriots to slaughter. Knowing as I do of your

kindness and justice, I have full trust that my prayer will receive your

favourable attention.

"FROMENT, Captain of Company No. 39

"June 13, 1790, 11 o’c. p.m."

Unfortunately for the Catholic party, Dupre and Lieutaud, to whom this

letter was entrusted for delivery, and for whom passports were made out

as being employed on business connected with the king and the State,

were arrested at Vehaud, and their despatches laid before the Electoral

Assembly. Many other letters of the same kind were also intercepted, and

the red-tufts went about the town saying that the Catholics of Nimes

were being massacred.

The priest of Courbessac, among others, was shown a letter saying that a

Capuchin monk had been murdered, and that the Catholics were in need of

help. The agents who brought this letter to him wanted him to put his

name to it that they might show it everywhere, but were met by a

positive refusal.

At Bouillargues and Manduel the tocsin was sounded: the two villages

joined forces, and with weapons in their hands marched along the road

from Beaucaire to Nimes. At the bridge of Quart the villagers of

Redressan and Marguerite joined them. Thus reinforced, they were able to

bar the way to all who passed and subject them to examination; if a man

could show he was a Catholic, he was allowed to proceed, but the

Protestants were murdered then and there. We may remind our readers that

the "Cadets de la Croix" pursued the same method in 1704.

Meantime Descombiez, Froment, and Folacher remained masters of the

ramparts and the tower, and when very early one morning their forces

were augmented by the insurgents from the villages (about two hundred

men), they took advantage of their strength to force a way into the

house of a certain Therond, from which it was easy to effect an entrance

to the Jacobin monastery, and from there to the tower adjoining, so that

their line now extended from the gate at the bridge of Calquieres to

that at the end of College Street. From daylight to dusk all the

patriots who came within range were fired at whether they were armed or

not.

On the 14th June, at four o’clock in the morning, that part of the

legion which was against the Catholics gathered together in the square

of the Esplanade, where they were joined by the patriots from the

adjacent towns and villages, who came in in small parties till they

formed quite an army. At five A.M. M. de St. Pons, knowing that the

windows of the Capuchin monastery commanded the position taken up by the

patriots, went there with a company and searched the house thoroughly,

and also the Amphitheatre, but found nothing suspicious in either.

Immediately after, news was heard of the massacres that had taken place

during the night.

The country-house belonging to M. and Mme. Noguies had been broken into,

the furniture destroyed, the owners killed in their beds, and an old man

of seventy who lived with them cut to pieces with a scythe.

A young fellow of fifteen, named Payre, in passing near the guard placed

at the Pont des files, had been asked by a red-tuft if he were Catholic

or Protestant. On his replying he was Protestant, he was shot dead on

the spot. "That was like killing a lamb," said a comrade to the

murderer. "Pooh!" said he, "I have taken a vow to kill four Protestants,

and he may pass for one."

M. Maigre, an old man of eighty-two, head of one of the most respected

families in the neighbourhood, tried to escape from his house along

with his son, his daughter-in-law, two grandchildren, and two

servants; but the carriage was stopped, and while the rebels were

murdering him and his son, the mother and her two children

succeeded in escaping to an inn, whither the assassins pursued

them, Fortunately, however, the two fugitives having a start,

reached the inn a few minutes before their pursuers, and the

innkeeper had enough presence of mind to conceal them and open the

garden gate by which he said they had escaped. The Catholics,

believing him, scattered over the country to look for them, and

during their absence the mother and children were rescued by the

mounted patrol.

The exasperation of the Protestants rose higher and higher as reports of

these murders came in one by one, till at last the desire for vengeance

could no longer be repressed, and they were clamorously insisting on

being led against the ramparts and the towers, when without warning a

heavy fusillade began from the windows and the clock tower of the

Capuchin monastery. M. Massin, a municipal officer, was killed on the

spot, a sapper fatally wounded, and twenty-five of the National Guard

wounded more or less severely. The Protestants immediately rushed

towards the monastery in a disorderly mass; but the superior, instead of

ordering the gates to be opened, appeared at a window above the

entrance, and addressing the assailants as the vilest of the vile, asked

them what they wanted at the monastery. "We want to destroy it, we want

to pull it down till not one stone rests upon another," they replied.

Upon this, the reverend father ordered the alarm bells to be rung, and

from the mouths of bronze issued the call for help; but before it could

arrive, the door was burst in with hatchets, and five Capuchins and

several of the militia who wore the red tuft were killed, while all the

other occupants of the monastery ran away, taking refuge in the house of

a Protestant called Paulhan. During this attack the church was

respected; a man from Sornmieres, however, stole a pyx which he found in

the sacristy, but as soon as his comrades perceived this he was arrested

and sent to prison.

In the monastery itself, however, the doors were broken in, the

furniture smashed, the library and the dispensary wrecked. The sacristy

itself was not spared, its presses being broken into, its chests

destroyed, and two monstrances broken; but nothing further was touched.

The storehouses and the small cloth-factory connected with the monastery

remained intact, like the church.

But still the towers held out, and it was round them that the real

fighting took place, the resistance offered from within being all the

more obstinate that the besieged expected relief from moment to moment,

not knowing that their letters had been intercepted by the enemy. On

every side the rattling of shot was heard, from the Esplanade, from the

windows, from the roofs; but very little effect was produced by the

Protestants, for Descombiez had told his men to put their caps with the

red tufts on the top of the wall, to attract the bullets, while they

fired from the side. Meantime the conspirators, in order to get a better

command of the besiegers, reopened a passage which had been long walled

up between the tower Du Poids and the tower of the Dominicans.

Descombiez, accompanied by thirty men, came to the door of the monastery

nearest the fortifications and demanded the key of another door which

led to that part of the ramparts which was opposite the place des

Carmes, where the National Guards were stationed. In spite of the

remonstrances of the monks, who saw that it would expose them to great

danger, the doors were opened, and Froment hastened to occupy every post

of vantage, and the battle began in that quarter, too, becoming fiercer

as the conspirators remarked that every minute brought the Protestants

reinforcements from Gardonninque and La Vaunage. The firing began at ten

o’clock in the morning, and at four o’clock in the afternoon it was

going on with unabated fury.

At four o’clock, however, a servant carrying a flag of truce appeared;

he brought a letter from Descombiez, Fremont, and Folacher, who styled

themselves "Captains commanding the towers of the Castle." It was

couched in the following words:—

"To the Commandant of the troops of the line, with the request that the

contents be communicated to the militia stationed in the Esplanade.

"SIR,—We have just been informed that you are anxious for peace. We also

desire it, and have never done anything to break it. If those who have

caused the frightful confusion which at present prevails in the city are

willing to bring it to an end, we offer to forget the past and to live

with them as brothers.

"We remain, with all the frankness and loyalty of patriots and

Frenchmen, your humble servants,

"The Captains of the Legion of Nimes, in command of the towers of the

Castle,

"FROMENT, DESCOMBIEZ, FOLACHER NIMES, the 14th June 1790, 4.00 P.M."

On the receipt of this letter, the city herald was sent to the towers to

offer the rebels terms of capitulation. The three "captains in command"

came out to discuss the terms with the commissioners of the electoral

body; they were armed and followed by a great number of adherents.

However, as the negotiators desired peace before all things, they

proposed that the three chiefs should surrender and place themselves in

the hands of the Electoral Assembly. This offer being refused, the

electoral commissioners withdrew, and the rebels retired behind their

fortifications. About five o’clock in the evening, just as the

negotiations were broken off, M. Aubry, an artillery captain who had

been sent with two hundred men to the depot of field artillery in the

country, returned with six pieces of ordnance, determined to make a

breach in the tower occupied by the conspirators, and from which they

were firing in safety at the soldiers, who had no cover. At six o’clock,

the guns being mounted, their thunder began, first drowning the noise of

the musketry and then silencing it altogether; for the cannon balls did

their work quickly, and before long the tower threatened to fall.

Thereupon the electoral commissioners ordered the firing to cease for a

moment, in the hope that now the danger had become so imminent the

leaders would accept the conditions which they had refused one hour

before; and not desiring to drive them to desperation, the commissioners

advanced again down College Street, preceded by a bugler, and the

captains were once more summoned to a parley. Froment and Descombiez

came out to meet them, and seeing the condition of the tower, they

agreed to lay down their arms and send them for the palace, while they

themselves would proceed to the Electoral Assembly and place themselves

under its protection. These proposals being accepted, the commissioners

waved their hats as a sign that the treaty was concluded.

At that instant three shots were fired from the ramparts, and cries of

"Treachery! treachery!" were heard on every side. The Catholic chiefs

returned to the tower, while the Protestants, believing that the

commissioners were being assassinated, reopened the cannonade; but

finding that it took too long to complete the breach, ladders were

brought, the walls scaled, and the towers carried by assault. Some of

the Catholics were killed, the others gained Froment’s house, where,

encouraged by him, they tried to organise a resistance; but the

assailants, despite the oncoming darkness, attacked the place with such

fury that doors and windows were shattered in an instant. Froment and

his brother Pierre tried to escape by a narrow staircase which led to

the roof, but before they reached it Pierre was wounded in the hip and

fell; but Froment reached the roof, and sprang upon an adjacent

housetop, and climbing from roof to roof, reached the college, and

getting into it by a garret window, took refuge in a large room which

was always unoccupied at night, being used during the day as a study.

Froment remained hidden there until eleven o’clock. It being then

completely dark, he got out of the window, crossed the city, gained the

open country, and walking all night, concealed himself during the day in

the house of a Catholic. The next night he set off again, and reached

the coast, where he embarked on board a vessel for Italy, in order to

report to those who had sent him the disastrous result of his

enterprise.

For three whole days the carnage lasted. The Protestants losing all

control over themselves, carried on the work of death not only without

pity but with refined cruelty. More than five hundred Catholics lost

their lives before the 17th, when peace was restored.

For a long time recriminations went on between Catholics and

Protestants, each party trying to fix on the other the responsibility

for those dreadful three days; but at last Franqois Froment put an end

to all doubt on the subject, by publishing a work from which are set

forth many of the details just laid before our readers, as well as the

reward he met with when he reached Turin. At a meeting of the French

nobles in exile, a resolution was passed in favour of M. Pierre Froment

and his children, inhabitants of Nimes.

We give a literal reproduction of this historic document:

"We the undersigned, French nobles, being convinced that our Order was

instituted that it might become the prize of valour and the

encouragement of virtue, do declare that the Chevalier de Guer having

given us proof of the devotion to their king and the love of their

country which have been displayed by M. Pierre Froment, receiver of the

clergy, and his three sons, Mathieu Froment citizen, Jacques Froment

canon, Francois Froment advocate, inhabitants of Nimes, we shall

henceforward regard them and their descendants as nobles and worthy to

enjoy all the distinctions which belong to the true nobility. Brave

citizens, who perform such distinguished actions as fighting for the

restoration of the monarchy, ought to be considered as the equals of

those French chevaliers whose ancestors helped to found it. Furthermore,

we do declare that as soon as circumstances permit we shall join

together to petition His Majesty to grant to this family, so illustrious

through its virtue, all the honours and prerogatives which belong to

those born noble.

"We depute the Marquis de Meran, Comte d’Espinchal, the Marquis

d’Escars, Vicomte de Pons, Chevalier de Guer, and the Marquis de la

Feronniere to go to Mgr. le Comte d’Artois, Mgr. le Duc d’Angouleme,

Mgr. le Duc de Berry, Mgr. le Prince de Conde, Mgr. le Due de Bourbon,

and Mgr. le Duc d’Enghien, to beg them to put themselves at our head

when we request His Majesty to grant to MM. Froment all the distinctions

and advantages reserved for the true nobility.

"At TURIN, 12th September 1790."

The nobility of Languedoc learned of the honours conferred on their

countryman, M. Froment, and addressed the following letter to him:

"LORCH, July 7, 1792

"MONSIEUR, The nobles of Languedoc hasten to confirm the resolution

adopted in your favour by the nobles assembled at Turin. They appreciate

the zeal and the courage which have distinguished your conduct and that

of your family; they have therefore instructed us to assure you of the

pleasure with which they will welcome you among those nobles who are

under the orders of Marshal de Castries, and that you are at liberty to

repair to Lorch to assume your proper rank in one of the companies.

"We have the honour to be, monsieur, your humble and obedient servants,

"COMTE DE TOULOUSE-LAUTREC

"MARQUIS DE LA JONQUIERE "ETC."

CHAPTER VII

The Protestants, as we have said, hailed the golden dawn of the

revolution with delight; then came the Terror, which struck at all

without distinction of creed. A hundred and thirty-eight heads fell on

the scaffold, condemned by the revolutionary tribunal of the Gard.

Ninety-one of those executed were Catholic, and forty-seven Protestants,

so that it looked as if the executioners in their desire for

impartiality had taken a census of the population.

Then came the Consulate: the Protestants being mostly tradesmen and

manufacturers, were therefore richer than the Catholics, and had more to

lose; they seemed to see more chance of stability in this form of

government than in those preceding it, and it was evident that it had a

more powerful genius at its head, so they rallied round it with

confidence and sincerity. The Empire followed, with its inclination to

absolutism, its Continental system, and its increased taxation; and the

Protestants drew back somewhat, for it was towards them who had hoped so

much from him that Napoleon in not keeping the promises of Bonaparte was

most perjured.

The first Restoration, therefore, was greeted at Nimes with a universal

shout of joy; and a superficial-observer might have thought that all

trace of the old religious leaven had disappeared. In fact, for

seventeen years the two faiths had lived side by side in perfect peace

and mutual good-will; for seventeen years men met either for business or

for social purposes without inquiring about each other’s religion, so

that Nimes on the surface might have been held up as an example of union

and fraternity.

When Monsieur arrived at Nimes, his guard of honour was drawn from the

city guard, which still retained its organisation of 1812, being

composed of citizens without distinction of creed. Six decorations were

conferred on it—three on Catholics, and three on Protestants. At the

same time, M. Daunant, M. Olivier Desmonts, and M. de Seine, the first

the mayor, the second the president of the Consistory, and the third a

member of the Prefecture, all three belonging to the Reformed religion,

received the same favour.

Such impartiality on the part of Monsieur almost betrayed a preference,

and this offended the Catholics. They muttered to one another that in

the past there had been a time when the fathers of those who had just

been decorated by the hand of the prince had fought against his faithful

adherents. Hardly had Monsieur left the town, therefore, than it became

apparent that perfect harmony no longer existed.

The Catholics had a favorite cafe, which during the whole time the

Empire lasted was also frequented by Protestants without a single

dispute caused by the difference of religion ever arising. But from this

time forth the Catholics began to hold themselves aloof from the

Protestants; the latter perceiving this, gave up the cafe by degrees to

the Catholics, being determined to keep the peace whatever it might

cost, and went to a cafe which had been just opened under the sign of

the "Isle of Elba." The name was enough to cause them to be regarded as

Bonapartists, and as to Bonapartists the cry "Long live the king!" was

supposed to be offensive, they were saluted at every turn with these

words, pronounced in a tone which became every day more menacing. At

first they gave back the same cry, "Long live the king!" but then they

were called cowards who expressed with their lips a sentiment which did

not come from their hearts. Feeling that this accusation had some truth

in it, they were silent, but then they were accused of hating the royal

family, till at length the cry which at first had issued from full

hearts in a universal chorus grew to be nothing but an expression of

party hatred, so that on the 21st February, 1815, M. Daunant the mayor,

by a decree, prohibited the public from using it, as it had become a

means of exciting sedition. Party feeling had reached this height at

Nimes when, on the 4th March, the news of the landing of Napoleon

arrived.

Deep as was the impression produced, the city remained calm, but

somewhat sullen; in any case, the report wanted confirmation. Napoleon,

who knew of the sympathy that the mountaineers felt for him, went at

once into the Alps, and his eagle did not as yet take so high a flight

that it could be seen hovering above Mount Geneve.

On the 12th, the Duc d’Angouleme arrived: two proclamations calling the

citizens to arms signalised his presence. The citizens answered the call

with true Southern ardour: an army was formed; but although Protestants

and Catholics presented themselves for enrolment with equal alacrity,

the Protestants were excluded, the Catholics denying the right of

defending their legitimate sovereign to any but themselves.

This species of selection apparently went on without the knowledge of

the Duc d’Angouleme. During his stay in Nimes he received Protestants

and Catholics with equal cordiality, and they sat at his table side by

side. It happened once, on a Friday, at dinner, that a Protestant

general took fish and a Catholic general helped himself to fowl. The

duke being amused, drew attention to this anomaly, whereupon the

Catholic general replied, "Better more chicken and less treason." This

attack was so direct, that although the Protestant general felt that as

far as he was concerned it had no point, he rose from table and left the

room. It was the brave General Gilly who was treated in this cruel

manner.

Meanwhile the news became more disastrous every day: Napoleon was moving

about with the rapidity of his eagles. On the 24th March it was reported

in Nimes that Louis XVIII had left Paris on the 19th and that Napoleon

had entered on the 20th. This report was traced to its source, and it

was found that it had been spread abroad by M. Vincent de Saint-Laurent,

a councillor of the Prefecture and one of the most respected men in

Nimes. He was summoned at once before the authorities and asked whence

he had this information; he replied, "From a letter received from M.

Bragueres," producing the letter. But convincing as was this proof, it

availed him nothing: he was escorted from brigade to brigade till he

reached the Chateau d’If. The Protestants sided with M. Vincent de

Saint-Laurent, the Catholics took the part of the authorities who were

persecuting him, and thus the two factions which had been so long

quiescent found themselves once more face to face, and their dormant

hatred awoke to new life. For the moment, however, there was no

explosion, although the city was at fever heat, and everyone felt that a

crisis was at hand.

On the 22nd March two battalions of Catholic volunteers had already been

enlisted at Nimes, and had formed part of the eighteen hundred men who

were sent to Saint-Esprit. Just before their departure fleurs-de-lys had

been distributed amongst them, made of red cloth; this change in the

colour of the monarchical emblem was a threat which the Protestants well

understood.

The prince left Nimes in due course, taking with him the rest of the

royal volunteers, and leaving the Protestants practically masters of

Nimes during the absence of so many Catholics. The city, however,

continued calm, and when provocations began, strange to say they came

from the weaker party.

On the 27th March six men met in a barn; dined together, and then agreed

to make the circuit of the town. These men were Jacques Dupont, who

later acquired such terrible celebrity under the name of Trestaillons,

Truphemy the butcher, Morenet the dog shearer, Hours, Servant, and

Gilles. They got opposite the cafe "Isle of Elba," the name of which

indicated the opinion of those who frequented it. This cafe was faced by

a guard-house which was occupied by soldiers of the 67th Regiment. The

six made a halt, and in the most insulting tones raised the cry of "Long

live the king!" The disturbance that ensued was so slight that we only

mention it in order to give an idea of the tolerance of the Protestants,

and to bring upon the stage the men mentioned above, who were three

months later to play such a terrible part.

On April 1st the mayor summoned to a meeting at his official residence

the municipal council, the members of all the variously constituted

administrative bodies in Nimes, the officers of the city guards, the

priests, the Protestant pastors, and the chief citizens. At this

meeting, M. Trinquelague, advocate of the Royal Courts, read a powerful

address, expressing the love, of the citizens for their king and

country, and exhorting them to union and peace. This address was

unanimously adopted and signed by all present, and amongst the

signatures were those of the principal Protestants of Nimes. But this

was not all: the next day it was printed and published, and copies sent

to all the communes in the department over which the white flag still

floated. And all this happened, as we have said, on April and, eleven

days after Napoleon’s return to Paris.