St. Bartholomew's Eve by G. A. Henty. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit LibriVox.org. Read by Anna Christensen. Preface. It is difficult in these days of religious toleration to understand why men should, three centuries ago, have flown at each other's throats in the name of the Almighty. Still less how, in cold blood, they could have perpetrated hideous massacres of men, women and children. The Huguenot Wars were, however, as much political as religious. Philip of Spain, at that time the most powerful potentate of Europe, desired to add France to the countries where his influence was all-powerful. And in the ambitious house of guise, he found ready instruments. For a time, the new faith that had spread with such rapidity in Germany, England and Holland made great progress in France also. But here the reigning family remained Catholic, and the vigorous measures they adopted to check the growing tide, drove those of the new religion to take up arms in self-defense. Although under the circumstances, the Protestants can hardly be blamed for so doing, there can be little doubt that the first Huguenot War, though the revolt was successful, was the means of France remaining a Catholic country. It gave color to the assertions of the guises and their friends that the movement was a political one, and that the Protestants intended to grasp all power and to overthrow the throne of France. It also afforded an excuse for the cruel persecutions which followed and rallied to the Catholic cause numbers of those who were, at heart, indifferent to the question of religion, but were royalists rather than Catholics. The great organization of the Church of Rome labored among all classes for the destruction of the growing heresy. Every pulpit in France resounded with denunciation of the Huguenots, and passionate appeals were made to the bigotry and fanaticism of the more ignorant classes. So that, while the power of the Huguenots lay in some of the country districts, the mobs of the great towns were everywhere the instruments of the priests. I have not considered it necessary to devote any large portion of my story to the details of the terrible massacres of the period, nor to the atrocious persecutions to which the Huguenots were subjected, but have, as usual, gone to the military events of the struggle for its chief interest. For the particulars of these, I have relied chiefly upon the collection of works of contemporary authors published by Manjure Zeller of Paris, the memories of François de la Nuit and other French authorities. G. A. Huntie End of Preface Saint Bartholomew's Eve by G. A. Huntie This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit LibriVox.org Read by Anna Christensen Chapter 1 Driven from Home In the year 1567, there were a few towns in the southern counties of England that did not contain a colony, more or less large, of French Protestants. For thirty years the Huguenots had been exposed to constant and cruel persecutions. Many thousands had been massacred by the soldiery, burned at the stake, or put to death with dreadful tortures. Fifty thousand, it was calculated, had, in spite of the most stringent measures of prevention, left their homes and made their escape across the frontiers. These had settled for the most part in the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, in Holland, or England. As many of those who reached our shores were but poorly provided with money, they naturally settled in or near the ports of landing. Canterbury was a place in which many of the unfortunate emigrants found a home. Here one Gaspar Velan, his wife, and her sister, who had landed in the year 1547, had established themselves. They were among the first comers, but the French colony had grown, gradually, until it numbered several hundreds. The Huguenots were well-liked in the town, being pitied for their misfortunes, and admired for the courage with which they bore their losses, setting to work each man at his trade if he had one, or if not taking to the first work that came it to hand. They were quiet and God-fearing folk, very good towards each other, and to their poor countrymen on their way from the coast to London, entertaining them to the best of their power, and sending them forward on their way with letters to the Huguenot committee in London, and with sufficient money in their pockets to pay their expenses on the journey, and to maintain them for a while until some employment could be found for them. Gaspar Velan had been a landowner near Sevres in Poteau. He was connected by blood with several noble families in that district, and had been among the first to embrace the reformed religion. For some years he had not been interfered with, as it was upon the poorer and more defenseless classes at the first fury of the persecutors fell, but as the attempts of Francis to stamp out the new sect failed, and his anger rose more and more against them, persons of all ranks fell under the ban. The prisons were filled with Protestants who refused to confess their errors. Soldiers were courted in the towns and villages, and committed terrible atrocities upon the Protestants. And Gaspar, seeing no hope of better times coming, or of being permitted to worship in peace and quietness, gathered together what money he could and made his way, with his wife and her sister, to La Rochelle, whence he took ship to London. Disliking the bustle of a large town, he was recommended by some of his compatriots to go down to Canterbury, where three or four fugitives from his own part of the country had settled. One of these was a weaver by trade, but without money to manufacture looms or to set up in his calling, Gaspar joined him as partner, embarking a little capital he had saved, and being a shrewd, clear-headed man, he carried on the business part of the concern, while as partner, the quaw worked at the manufacture. As the French colony in Canterbury increased, they had no difficulty in obtaining skilled hands from among them. The business grew in magnitude, and the profits were large, in spite of the fact that numerous of similar enterprises had been established for the Huguenot immigrants in London and other places. They were indeed amply sufficient to enable Gaspar Veylon to live in the condition of a substantial citizen, to aid his fellow countrymen, and to lay by a good deal of money. His wife's sister had not remained very long with him. She had, upon their first arrival, given lessons in her own language to the daughters of Burgesses and of the gentry near the town. But, three years after the arrival of the family there, she had married a well-to-do young yeoman, who farmed a hundred acres of his own land, two miles from the town. His relations and neighbors had shaken their heads over what they considered his folly, in marrying the pretty young French woman, but erelong they were obliged to own that his choice had been a good one. Just after his first child was born he was, remember turning home one evening from market, knocked down and run over by a drunken Carter, and was so injured that for many months his life was in danger. Then he began to mend, but though he gained in strength he did not recover the use of his legs, being completely paralyzed from the hips downward, and, as it soon appeared, was destined to remain a helpless invalid all his life. From the days of the accident, Lucie had taken the management of affairs in her own hands, and having been brought up in the country and being possessed of a large share of the shrewdness and common sense for which French women are often conspicuous, she succeeded admirably. The neatness and order of the house, since their marriage, had been a matter of surprise to her husband's friends, and it was not long before the farm showed the effects of her management. Gaspard Vélon assisted her with his counsel and, as the French methods of agriculture were considerably advanced of those in England, instead of things going to rack and ruin, as John Fletcher's friends predicted. Its returns were considerably augmented. Naturally, she at first experienced considerable opposition. The labourers grumbled at what they called new-fangled French fashions, but when they left her, their places were supplied by her countrymen, who were frugal and industrious, accustomed to make the most out of small areas of ground, and to turn every foot to the best advantage. Gradually, the raising of corn was abandoned, and a large portion of the farm devoted to the growing of vegetables, which, by dint of plentiful manuring and careful cultivation, were produced of a size and quality that were the surprise and admiration of the neighbourhood, and gave her almost a monopoly of the supply of Canterbury. The carters were still English, partly because Lucie had the good sense to see that, if she employed French labourers only. She would excite feelings of jealousy and dislike among her neighbours, and partly because she saw that, in the management of horses and cattle, the Englishmen were equal, if not superior, to her countrymen. Her life was a busy one. The management of the house and farm wood alone had been a heavy burden to most people, but she found ample time for the tenderest care of the invalid, whom she nursed with untiring affection.  I should like to be going about the farm, and yet I feel that I am happier here, lying watching you singing so contentedly over your work, and making everything so bright and comfortable. Who would have thought, when I married a little French lady, that she was going to turn a notable farmer? All my friends tell me that there is not a farm like mine in all the country round, and that the crops are the wonder of the neighbourhood, and when I see the vegetables that are brought in here, I should like to go over the farm, if only for once, just to see them growing. I hope you'll be able to do that someday, dear. Not on foot, I am afraid, but when you get stronger and better, as I hope you will, we will take you round in a litter, and the bright sky and the fresh air will do you good. Lucie spoke very fair English now, and her husband had come to speak a good deal of French, but the service of the house was all in that language, the three maids being daughters of French workmen in the town. The waste and disorder of those who were in the house when her husband first brought her there had appalled her, and the women so resented any attempt at teaching on the part of their French madame, after she had tried several sets with equally bad results. John Fletcher had consented to the introduction of French girls, meaning only that he was to have good English fare, and not French kick-shaws. The Huguenot customs had been kept up, and night and morning the house servants, with the French neighbors and their families, all assembled for prayer in the farmhouse. To this John Fletcher had agreed with Outdemore. His father had been a Protestant when there was some danger in being so, and he himself had been brought up soberly and strictly. Up to the time of his accident, there had been two congregations. He himself reading the prayers to his farmhands, while Lucie afterwards reading them in her own language to her maids. But as the French laborers took the place of the English hands, only one service was needed. When John Fletcher first regained sufficient strength to take much interest in what was passing round, he was alarmed at the increase in the numbers of those who had attended these gatherings. Hither too four men had done the whole work on the farm. Now there were twelve. Lucy, dear, he said an easily one day, I know that you are a capital manager, but it is impossible that a farm the size of ours can pay with so many hands on it. I have never been able to do more than pay my way and lay by a few pounds every year with only four hands, and many would have thought three sufficient. But with twelve, I countered them this morning. We must be on the high road to ruin. I will not ruin you, John.  Yes, I know there were thirty-three pounds. His wife went out of the room and returned with a leather bag. Count them, John, she said. They were forty-eight. Fifteen pounds represented a vastly greater sum at that time than they do at present, and John Fletcher looked up from the counting with amazement. This can't be all ours, Lucy. Your brother must have been helping us. Not with a penny, doubting man, she laughed. The money is yours, all earned by the farm. Perhaps not quite all, because we have not more than half as many animals as we had before. But as I told you, we are growing vegetables, and for that we must have more men than for corn. But, as you see, it pays. Do not fear about it, John. If God should please to restore you to health and strength, most gladly will I lay down the reins, but till then I will manage as best as I may and, with the help and advice of my brother and his friends, shall hope, by the blessing of God, to keep all straight. The farm throve, but its master made but little progress toward recovery. He was able, however, occasionally to be carried round in a hand-litter, made up for him upon a plan devised by a guest-bar of a loan, in which he was supported in a half-sitting position, while four men bore him, as if in a sedan chair. But it was only occasionally that he could bear the fatigue of such excursions. Ordinarily he lay on a couch in the farmhouse kitchen, where he could see all that was going on there, while in the warm summer weather he was wheeled outside and lay in the shade of the great elm in front of the house. The boy, Philip, for so he had been christened after John Fletcher's father, grew a pace, and as soon as he was old enough to receive instruction, his father taught him his letters out of a horn-book, until he was big enough to go down every day to school in Canterbury. John himself was built upon a large scale, and at quarterstaff in wrestling could, before he married, hold his own with any of the lads of Kent. And Philip bade fair to take after him in skill and courage.  But his father took his part. Nay, nay, wife, he said one day. The boy is eleven years old now, and must not grow up a milk-sob. Teach him, if you will, to be honest and true, to love God and hold to the faith. But in these days it needs that men should be able to use their weapons also. There are your countrymen in France, who ere long will be driven to take up arms for the defence of their faith and lives from their cruel persecutors. And, as you have told me, many of the younger men from here and elsewhere will assuredly go back to aid their brethren. We may even have trials here. Our queen is a Protestant, and happily at present we can worship God as we please, in peace. But it was not so in the time of Mary, and it may be that troubles may again fall upon the land, seeing that as yet the queen is not married. Moreover, Philip of Spain has pretensions to rule here, and every Englishman may be called upon to take up bow or bill for his faith and country. Our co-religionists in Holland and France are both being cruelly persecuted, and it may well be that the time will come when we shall send over armies to their assistance. I would that the boy should grow up both a good Christian and a stout soldier. He comes on both sides of fighting stock. One of my ancestors fought at Agincourt, and another with a black prince at Cressigy and Poitiers, while on your side his blood is noble, and, as we know, the nobles of France are second to none in bravery. Before I met you, I had thoughts of going out myself to fight among the English bands who have engaged on the side of the Hollanders. I have even spoken to my cousin James about taking charge of the farm while I was away. I would not have sold it, but I had thought of borrowing money upon it to take me out to war when your sweet face drove all such matters from my mind. Therefore, Lucie, will I would that you should teach the boy to be good and gentle in his manners, so that if he ever goes among your French kidsmen he shall be able to bear himself as he fits his birth on that side. I, for my part, though alas I can do nothing myself, will see that he is taught to use his arms and to bear himself as stoutly as an English woman should when there is need of it.  But I would not have him backward in these, either. We English, thank God, have not had much occasion to draw us swords since we broke the strength of Scotland on Flawden Field. And in spite of ordinances, we know less than we should do of the use of our weapons. Even the rules that every lad shall practice shooting at the butts are less strictly observed than they should be. But in this respect our deficiencies can be repaired, in his case. For here in Canterbury there are several of your countrymen of noble birth, and doubtless among these we shall be able to find an instructor for Phil. Many of them are driven to hardships to procure a living, and since that bag of yours is every day getting heavier, and we have but him to spend it upon, we will not grudge giving him the best instruction that can be procured. Lucy did not dispute her husband's will, but she nevertheless tried to enlist Gaspar Vellan, who was frequently up at the farm with his wife in the evening, for he had a sincere liking for John Fletcher. On her side, and to get him to dissuade her husband from putting thoughts into the boy's head that might lead him, some day, to be discontented with the quiet life on the farm. She found, however, that Gaspar highly approved of her husband's determination. Fire upon you, Lucy! You forget that you and Marie are both of noble blood, in that respect being of condition somewhat above myself, although I too am connected with many good families in Pothu. In other times I should have said it were better that the boy should grow up to till the land, which is assuredly an honourable profession, rather than to become a military adventurer, fighting only for vain glory. But in our days this sword is not drawn for glory, but for their rights to worship God in peace. No one can doubt that, Erlong, the men of the reformed religion will take up arms to defend their right to live and worship God in their own way. The cruel persecutions under Francis I, Henry II and Francis II have utterly failed in their object. When Marindol, Cavarieres, and 22 other towns and villages were destroyed in 1457, and the persons persecuted and forced to recant, or to fly as we did, it was thought that we were but a handful who would be easy to exterminate. But in spite of edict after edict, of persecution, slaughtering and burnings, in spite of the massacres of Amboy and others, the reformed religion has spread so greatly that even the Giezes are formed to recognise it as a power. At Fontainebleau, Admiral Colligny, Montmorency, the Chétionnes and others openly perverse the reformed religion and argued boldly for tolerance, while Condé and Navarre, although they declined to be present, were openly ranged on their side. Had it not been that Henry II and Francis were both carried off by their manifest hand of God, the first by a spear thrust at a tournament, the second by an abscess in the ear, France would have been the scene of deadly strife, for both were, when so suddenly smitten, on the point of commencing a war of extermination. But it is only now that the full strength of those who hold the faith is manifested. Bisa, the greatest of the reformers, next to Kelvin himself, and 12 of our most learned and eloquent pastors are at Pussy, disputing upon the faith of the Cardinal of Lorraine and the Prelates of the Romish Church. In the presence of the Young King, the Princes and the Court, it is evident that the Prelates are unable to answer the arguments of our champions. The Gises, I hear, are furious, for the present Catherine, the Queen Mother, is anxious for peace and toleration, and it is probable that the end of the argument at Pussy will be an edict allowing freedom of worship. But this will only infuriate still more the Papists, urged on by Rome and Philip of Spain. Then there will be an appeal to arms, and the contest will be a dreadful one. Niver, from all I hear, has been well-nigh won over by the Gises. But his noble wife Will, I'll say, hold the faith to the end, and her kingdom will follow her. Conde is as good a general as Gise, and with him there is a host of nobles. Rochef Aqual, the Chateons, Subhi, Gromon, Rohan, Denly, and a score of others. It will be terrible, for in many cases father and son will be ranged in opposite sides, and brother will fight against brother. But surely, Gisbar, the war will not last for years. It may last for generations, the weavers said gloomily, though not without intermissions. For I believe that, after each success on one side or the other, there will be truces and concessions to be followed by fresh persecutions and fresh wars until either the reformed faith become the religion of all France, or is entirely stamped out. What is true of France is true of Holland. Philip will annihilate the reformers there, or they will shake off the yoke of Spain. England will be driven to join in one or both struggles, for if papacy is trampled in France and Holland, Spain and France should unite against her. So you see, sister, that in my opinion we are at the commencement of a long and bloody struggle for freedom of worship, and at any rate it will be good that the boy should be trained as he would have been had you married one of your own rank in France. In order that, when he comes to man's estate, he may be able to wield a sword worthily in the defense of the faith. Had I sons I should train them as your husband intends to train Phil. It may be that he will never be called upon to draw a sword, but the time he has spent in acquiring its use will not be wasted. These exercises give firmness and suppleness to the figure, quickness to the eye, and briskness of decision to the mind. A man who knows that he can, at need, defend his life if attacked, whether against soldiers in the field or robbers on the street, has a sense of power and self-reliance that a man, untrained in the use of strength God has given him, will never feel. I was instructed in arms in a boy, and I am none the worse weaver for it. Do not forget, Lucie, that the boy has the blood of many good French families in his veins, and you should rejoice that your husband is willing that he should be so trained that, if the need should ever come, he shall do no discredit to his ancestors on our side. These English have many virtues, which I freely recognize, but we cannot deny that many of them are somewhat rough and uncouth, just locking in manners and chorus and speech. I am sure that you yourself would not wish your son to grow up like many of the young fellows who come into town on market day. Your son will make no worse a farmer for being trained as a gentleman.  No, no, Lucie, I trust that between us we shall make a true Christian and a true gentleman of him, and that, if needs be, he will show himself a good soldier also. And so, between his French relatives and his sturdy English father, Philip Fletcher had an unusual training. Among the Huguenots he learned to be gentle and courteous, to bear himself among his elders respectfully, but without fear or shyness. To consider that, while all things were of minor consequence in comparison to the right worship of God and freedom and purity, yet that a man should be fearless of death, ready to defend his rights, but with moderation and without pushing them to the injury of others, he should be grave and decorous of speech, and yet have a gay and cheerful spirit. He strove hard so to deport himself that, if, at any time, he should return to his mother's country, he could take his place among her relations without discredit, he learned to fence and to dance. Some of the stricter of the Huguenots were of opinion that the latter accomplishment was unnecessary, if not absolutely sinful, but Gaspar Vellon was firm on this point. Dancing is a stately and graceful exercise, he said, and like the use of arms, it greatly improves the carriage and poise of the figure. Queen Elizabeth loves dancing, and none can say that she is not a good Protestant. Every youth should be taught to dance, if only he may know how to walk. I am not one of those who think that, because a man is a good Christian, he should necessarily be awkward and ungainly in speech and manner, adverse to innocent gayities, narrow in his ideas. Ill-dressed and ill-mannered, as I see are many of those most extreme and religious matters in this country. Upon the other hand, in the school playground, under the shadow of the great cathedral, Phil was as English as any, being foremost in their rough sports, and ready for any fun or mischief. He fought many battles principally because a difference of his manner from that of the others often caused him to be called Frenchy. The epithet in itself was not displeasing to him, for he was passionately attached to his mother, and had learned from her to love her native country. But applied in derision, it was regarded by him as an insult, and many a tough battle did he fight, until his prowess was so generally acknowledged that the name, though still used, was no longer one of disrespect. In figure, he took after his French rather than his English ancestors. Of more than average height for his age, he was apparently slighter in build than his school fellows. It was not that he lacked width of chest, but that his bones were smaller and his frame less heavy. The English boys among themselves sometimes spoke of him as skinny, a word considered especially appropriate to Frenchmen, but though he lacked the roundness and fullness of limb, he had not an ounce of superfluous flesh upon him. He was all sinew and wire, and while in sheer strength he was fully their equal, he was incomparably quicker and more active.  This, however, seldom found vent in laughter. His intercourse with the grave Huguenots, saddened by their exile in quiet and restrained manner, taught him to repress mirth, which would have appeared to them unseemly, and to remain a grave and silent listener to their talk of their unhappy country and their discussions on religious matters. To his school fellows he was somewhat of an enigma. There was no more good-tempered young fellow in the school, no one more ready to do a kindness, but they did not understand why, when he was pleased, he smiled while others roared with laughter. Why when, in their sports, he exerted himself to the utmost, he did so silently while others shouted. Why his words were always few, and, when he differed from others, he expressed himself with a courtesy that puzzled them, why he never wrangled nor quarreled, and why any trick played upon an old woman or an offenseless person roused him to fury. As a rule, when boys do not quite understand one of their numbers, they dislike him. Philip Fletcher was an exception. They did not understand him, but they consoled themselves under this by the explanation that he was half a Frenchman and could not be expected to be like a regular English boy, and they recognized instinctively that he was their superior. Much of Philip's time was spent at the house of his uncle and among the Huguenot colony. Here also were many boys of his own age. These went to a school of their own, taught by the pastor of their own church, who held weekly services in the crypt of the cathedral, which had been granted to them for that purpose by the dean. While, with his English school fellows, he joined in sports and games, among these French lads the talk was sober and quiet. Stares a weak pass but some fugitive, going through Canterbury, brought the latest news of the situation in France, and the sufferings of their co-religionist friends in relations there, and the political events were the chief topics of conversation. The concessions made by the conference of Poissy had infuriated the Catholics, and the war was brought on by the Duke of Guise, who, passing with a large band of retainers to the town of Essay in Champagne, found the Huguenots there worshiping in a barn. His retainers attacked them, slaying men, women and children, some sixty being killed, and a hundred or more left terribly wounded. The Protestant nobles demanded that Francis of Guise should be punished for its atrocious massacre, but in vain, and Guise, on entering Paris, in defiance of Catherine's prohibition, was received with royal honors by the populace. The Cardinal of Lorraine, the Duke's brother, the Duke himself and their allies, the Constable Montemarinsie, and Marshal Saint-André, assumed so threatening an attitude that Catherine left Paris and went to Maloune, her sympathies at this period being with the reformers, by whose aid, alone, she thought that she could maintain her influence in the state against that of the Guises. Condé was forced to leave Paris with the Protestant nobles, from all parts of France the Huguenots marched to a system. Colligny, the greatest of the Huguenot leaders, hesitated, being, above all things, reluctant to plunge France into civil war, but the entreaties of his noble wife, of his brothers and friends, overpowered his reluctance. Condé left Moe with fifteen hundred horse, with the intention of seizing the person of the young king. But he had been forestalled by the Guises and moved to Orleans where he took up his headquarters. All over France the Huguenots rose in such numbers as astonished their enemies and soon became possessed of a great many important cities. Their leaders had endeavored in every way to impress upon them the necessity of behaving as men who fought only for the right worship of God, and for the most part these injunctions were strictly obeyed. In one matter alone the Huguenots could not be restrained. For thirty years the people of their faith had been executed, tortured and slain, and their hatred of the Romish church manifested itself by the destruction of images and pictures of all kinds, in the churches of the towns of which they obtained possession. Only in the southeast of France were there any exception to the general excellence of their conduct. Their persecution here had always been very severe, and in the town of Orange the papal troops committed a massacre almost without a parallel in its atrocity. The Baron of André, on behalf of the Protestants, took a revenge by massacres equally atrocious. But while the butchery at Orange was hailed with approbation and delight by the Catholic leaders, those promoted by André excited such a storm of indignation among the Huguenots of all classes that he shortly afterwards went over to the other side and was found fighting against the party he had disgraced. At Toulouse three thousand Huguenots were massacred, and in other towns where the Catholics were in a majority terrible persecutions were carried out. It was nearly a year after the massacre at Vassay before the two armies met in battle. The Huguenots had suffered greatly by the delays caused by attempts at negotiations and compromise. Condé's army was formed entirely of volunteers, and the nobles and gentry, as their means became exhausted, were compelled to return home with their retainers. While many were forced to march to their native provinces to assist their co-religionists there to defend themselves from their Catholic neighbors, England had entered to a certain extent upon the war. Elizabeth, after long vacillation, having at length agreed to send six thousand men to the towns of Hoveray, Depey and Rouet, providing these three towns were handed over to her, thus evincing the same calculating greed that marked her subsequent dealings with the Dutch and their struggle for freedom. Invein, Condé and Colligny begged her not to impose conditions that Frenchmen would hold to be infamous to them. Invein, Throgmorton, her ambassador at Paris, warned her that she would alienate the Protestants of France from her, while the possession of the cities would avail her but little. Invein, her minister, Cecil, urged her frankly to ally herself with the Protestants, from the first outbreak of the war for freedom of conscience in France to the termination of the struggle in Holland. Elizabeth baffled both friends and enemies by her vacillation and duplicity and her utter want of faith, doling out aid in the spirit of a huckster rather than a queen, so that she was, in the end, even more hated by the Protestants of Holland and France than by the Catholics of France and Spain. To those who look only at the progress made by England during the reign of Elizabeth, her great ministers, her valiant sailors and soldiers, long years of peace at home and the spirit and energy of her people, Elizabeth may appear a great monarch. To those who study her character from her relations with the struggling Protestants of France and Holland, it will appear that she was, although intellectually great, morally one of the meanest, falsest, and most despicable of women. Rowley, although stoutly defended by the inhabitants, supported by Montgomery with 800 soldiers and 500 Englishmen under Kiligru of Appendene, who was at last forced to surrender. The terms granted to the garrison were basely violated and many of the Protestants put to death. The king of Navarre, who had, since he joined the Catholic Party, shown the greatest zeal in their cause, commanded the besiegers. He was wounded and run at the attacks upon the town and died shortly afterwards. The two armies finally met on the 19th of December, 1562. The Catholic Party had 16,000 foot, 2,000 horse, and 22 cannon. The Huguenots had 4,000 horse, but only 8,000 infantry and 5 cannon. Conde at first broke the Swiss pikemen of the Gieses, while Coligny scattered the cavalry of Constable Montmorency, who was wounded and taken prisoner, but the infantry of the Catholics defeated those of the Huguenots, the troops sent by the German princes that are behaving with great cowardice. Conde's horse was killed under him and he was taken prisoner. Coligny drew off the Huguenot cavalry and remained of the infantry in good order and made his retreat unmolested. The Huguenots had been worsted in the battle and the loss of Conde was a serious blow, but on the other hand, Marshal St. Andre was killed and the Constable Montmorency, a prisoner. Coligny was speedily reinforced and the assassination of the Duke of Gieses by an enthusiast of the name of Jean-Paul Trot, more than equalized matters. Both parties being anxious to treat, terms of peace were arranged. On the condition that the Protestant Lord should be reinstated in their honors and possessions, all nobles and gentlemen should be allowed to celebrate, in their own houses, the worship of the reformed religion, that in every bailiwick the Protestant should be allowed to hold their religious services in the suburbs of one city and should also be permitted to celebrate it in one or two places inside the walls of all the cities they held at the time of the signature of the truce. This agreement was known as a treaty of embossie and suffice to secure peace for France until the latter end of 1567. Chapter 2 An Important Decision One day in June 1567, Gaspar Vélon and his wife went up to Fletcher's farm. I have come up to have a serious talk with you, John, about Philip. You see, in a few months he will be 16. He is already taller than I am. Reen and Gustave both tell me that they have taught him all they know with sword and dagger and both have been stout men at arms in their time and assure me that the lad could hold his own against any young French noble of his own age and against not a few men. It is time that we came to some conclusion about his future. I have thought much of it, Gaspar. Lying here so helpless, my thoughts do naturally turn to him. The boy has grown almost beyond my power of understanding. Sometimes when I hear him laughing and jesting with the men or with some of his school friends whom he brings up here, it seems to me that I see myself again in him and that he is a merry young fellow, full of life and of fun and able to hold his own at single stick or to foot it round the maypole with any lad in tent of his age. Then again when he is talking with his mother or giving directions in her name to their friend's laborers, I see a different lad altogether, grave and quiet with a gentle cordious way fit for a young noble ten years as senior. I don't know but that between us, Gaspar, we have made a mess of it and that it might have been better for him to have grown up altogether as I was with no thought or care saved the management of his farm with a liking for sport and fun when such came in his way. Not at all, not at all, Gaspar Veylon broken hastily. We have made a fine man of him, John and it seems to me that he possesses the best quality of both our races. He is frank and hearty, full of life and spirit when, as you say, occasion offers. Giving his whole heart either to work or play with plenty of determination and what you English call backbone. There is, in fact, a solid English foundation to his character. Then from our side he has gained the gravity of demeanor that belongs to his Huguenots with the courtesy of manner, the carriage and bearing of a young Frenchman of good blood. Above all, John, he is a sober Christian, strong in the reform of faith and with a burning hatred against its persecutors, be they French or Spanish. Well then, being what he is, what is to be done with him? In the first place, are you bent upon his remaining here? I think that, with his qualities and disposition, it would be well that for a while he had a wider scope. Lucie has managed the farm for the last 15 years and can well continue to do so for another 10 if God should spare her. And my own opinion is that, for that time, he might be left to try his strength and to devote to the good cause the talent God has given him and the skill and training that he has acquired through us and that it would be for his good to make the acquaintance of his French kinsfolk and to see something of the world. I know that is Lucie's wish also, Gaspar. I have frequently turned the matter over in my mind and I've concluded that, should it be your wish also, it would be well for me to throw no objections in the way. I shall miss the boy sorely, but young birds cannot be kept always in the nest and I think the lad has such good stuff in him that it were a pity to keep him shut up here. Now John, his brother-in-law went on, although I may never have said quite as much before, I have said enough for you to know what my intentions are. God has not been pleased to bestow children upon us and Philip is our nearest relation and stands to us almost in the light of his son. God has blessed my work for the last twenty years and though I have done, I hope, fully my share towards assisting my countrymen in distress, putting by always one-third of my income for that purpose. I am a rich man. The factory has grown larger and larger, not because we desire greater gains but that I might give employment to more and more of my countrymen. Since the death of LeCoultre twelve years ago, it has been entirely in my hands and living quietly as we have done. A greater portion of the profits have been laid by every year. Therefore, putting out of account the money that my good sister has laid by, Philip will stand in life not ill-equipped. I know that the lad has said nothing of any wishes he may entertain. At his age it would not be becoming for him to do so, until his elders speak. When we have read to him letters of our friends in France, or when he has listened to the tales of those freshly arrived from their ruined homes, I have noted that his color rose, that his fingers tightened as if on a sword, and could see how passionately he was longing to join those who were struggling against their cruel oppressors. Not less interested has he been in the noble struggle of the Dutch are making against the Spaniards, a struggle in which many of our exiled countrymen are sharing. One of his mother's cousins, Count Delannouie, is, as you know, prominent among the Huguenot leaders, and others of our relatives are arranged on the same side. At present there was a truce, but both parties feel that it is a hollow one. Nevertheless, it offers a good opportunity for him to visit his mother's family. Whether there is any prospect of her ever recovering the lands which were confiscated on her flight is uncertain. Should the Huguenots ever maintain their ground and win freedom of worship in France, it may be that the confiscated estates will in many cases be restored. As to that, however, I am perfectly indifferent. Were I a younger man, I should close my factory, return to France, and bear my share in the defense of the faith. As it is, I should like to send Philip over as my substitute. It would at any rate be well that he should make the acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France, although even I should not wish that he should cease to regard England as his native country and home. Hundreds of young men, many no older than himself, are in Holland fighting against the persecutors and risking their lives, though having no kinship with the Dutch, impelled simply by their love of the faith and their hatred of persecution. I have lately drawn, though the matter has been kept quiet, purchase the farms of Blunt and Markdijk, your neighbors on either hand. Both are nearly twice the size of your own. I have arranged with the men that, for the present, I continue to work them as my tenants, as they were before the tenants of Sir James Holford, who, having wasted his money at court, has been forced to sell a portion of his estates. Thus someday Philip will come into possession of land which will place him in a good position, and I am prepared to add to it considerably. Sir James Holford still gambles away his possessions and I explained to his notary, my willingness to extend my purchases at any time should he desire to sell. I should at once commence the building of a comfortable mansion, but it is scarce worthwhile to do so, for it is probable that, before many years, Sir James may be driven to part with his hall, as well as his land. In the meantime, I am ready to provide Philip with an income which will enable him to take his place with credit among our kinsfolk and to raise a company of some fifty men to follow him in the field, should Conde and the Huguenots again be driven to struggle against the geese's. What do you think? I think in the first place that Lucie and I should be indeed grateful to you, Gaspard, for your generous offer. As to his going to France, that I must talk over with his mother, whose wishes in this, as in all respects, are paramount with me. But I may say at once that, lying here as I do, thinking of the horrible cruelties and oppressions to which men and women are subjected for the face's sake in France and Holland, I feel that we, who are happily able to worship in peace and quiet, ought to hesitate at no sacrifice on their behalf. And moreover, seeing that, owing to my affliction, he owes what he is whether to his mother and you than to me. I think your wish that he should make the acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France a natural one. I have no wish for the lad to become a courtier, English or French. Nor that he should, as Englishmen have done before now in foreign armies, gain great honor and reputation. But if it is his wish to fight on behalf of the persecuted people of God, whether in France or in Holland, he will do so with my heartiest goodwill, and if he die, he could not die in a more glorious cause. Let us talk of other matters now, Gaspar. This is one that needs thought before more words are spoken. Two days later, John Fletcher had a long talk with Phil. The lad I was delighted when he heard the project, which was greatly in accord with both sides of his character. As an English lad, he looked forward eagerly to adventure and peril. As French and of the reform religion, he was rejoiced at the thought of fighting with the Huguenots against their persecutors, and of serving under the men with whose names and reputations he was so familiar. I do not know your uncle's plans for you, as yet, Phil, his father said. He was not into such matters, leaving these to be talked over after I had been settled whether his offer should be accepted or not. He purposes well by you and regards you as his heir. He has already bought blunt and mardak's farms, and purposes to buy other parts of the estate of Sir James Holford as they may slip through the knight's fingers at the gambling table. Therefore, in time, you will become a person of standing in the county, and although I care little for these things now, Phil, yet I should like you to be somewhat more than a mere squire, and if you serve for a while under such great captains as Coligny and Condé, it will give you reputation and weight. Your good uncle and his friends think little of such matters, but I own that I am not uninfluenced by them. Coligny, for example, is a man whom all honor, and that honor is not altogether because he is a leader of the Reformed faith, but because he is a great soldier. I do not think that honor and reputation are to be despised. Doubtless the first thing of all is that a man should be a good Christian, but that will in no way prevent him from being a great man. Nay, it will add to his greatness. You have noble kinsfolk in France, to some of whom your uncle will doubtless commit you, and it may be that you will have opportunity of distinguishing yourself. Should such occur, I am sure that you will avail yourself of them, as one should do who comes of good stock on both sides. For although we Fletchers have been but yeomen, from generation to generation, we have been ever ready to take and give our share of hard blows when they were going, and there have been few battles fought since William the Norman came over that a Fletcher has not fought in the English race, whether in France, in Scotland, or in our own troubles. Therefore it seems to me but natural that, for many reasons, you should desire at your age to take part in the fighting, as an Englishman because Englishmen fought six years ago under the banner of Condé. As a Protestant on behalf of our persecuted brethren, as a Frenchman by your mother's side, because you have kinsfolk engaged, and because it is the Pope and Philip of Spain, as well as the Guises who are in fact battling to stamp out French liberty. Of one thing I am sure, my boy, you will disgrace neither an honest English name nor their French blood in your veins, nor your profession as a Christian and a Protestant. There are Englishmen getting credit on the Spanish main under Drake and Hawkins. There are Englishmen fighting manfully by the side of the Dutch. There are others in the armies of the Protestant princes of Germany, and in none of these matters are they so deeply concerned as you are in the affairs of France and religion. I shall miss you, of course, Philip, and that sorely, but I have long seen that this would probably be the upshot of your training, and, since I can myself take no shared adventure beyond the walls of this house, I shall feel that I am living again in you. But, lad, never forget that you are English.  I have given you up greatly to your French relations here, but if you win credit and honor, I would have it won by my son, Philip Fletcher, born in England of an English father and who will one day become a gentleman and landowner in the county of Kent. I shan't forget that, Father, Philip said earnestly. I have never regarded myself as an any way French, although speaking in a tongue as well as English, and being so much among my mother's friends.  Believe me that if I fight in France, it will be as an Englishman who has drawn his sword in the coral, and rather as one who hates oppression and cruelty than because I have French kinsmen engaged in it. That is well, Philip. You may be away for some years, but I trust that on your return, you will find me sitting here to welcome you back. A creaking wheel lasts long. I have everything to make my life happy and peaceful, the best of wives, a well-ordered farm, and no thought or cares to my worldly affairs. And since it has been God's will that such should be my life, my interests will be wholly centered in you, and I hope to see your children playing around me, or, for art I know, your grandchildren, for we are a long-lived race. And now, Philip, you may best go down and see your uncle and thank him for his good intentions toward you. But I wholly agree with his plans, and that if he and your aunt will come up this evening, we will enter farther into them. That evening, John Fletcher learned that it was the intention of Gaspar that his wife should accompany Philip. Marie yearns to see her people again, he said, and the present is a good time for her to do so, for when the war once breaks out again, none can say how long it will last or how it will terminate. Her sister and Lucy's, the Countess de la Ville, has, as you know, frequently written urgently for Marie to go over and pay her a visit. Hitherto, I have never been able to bring myself to spare her, but I feel that this is so good an opportunity that I must let her go for a few weeks. Philip could not be introduced under better auspices. He will escort Marie to his aunt's, remain there with her, and then see her on board ship again at La Rochelle. After which, doubtless, he will remain at his aunt's, and when the struggle begins, he will ride with his cousin, Francois. I have hesitated whether I should go also, but in the first place, my business would get on but badly without me. In the second, although Marie may travel safely enough, I might be arrested where I recognize as one who had left the kingdom, contrary to the edicts. And lastly, I was never on very good terms with her family. Emily, in marrying the Count de la Ville, made a match somewhat above her own rank. For the La Ville family were wealthier and more powerful than that of Charles D. Moly, her father. On the other hand, I was, although of good birth, yet inferior in consideration to D. Moly, although my lands were broader than his. Consequently, we saw little of Emily after our marriage. Therefore, my being with Marie would, in no way, increase the warmth of the welcome that she and Philip will receive. I may say that the constrainment was, perhaps, more mindful in that of the La Ville family. I chose to fancy that there was a coolness on their part, which probably existed only in my imagination. However, shortly after my marriage, the religious troubles grew serious, and we were all too much absorbed in our own perils and those of our poorer neighbors to think of traveling about or of having family gatherings. At any rate, I feel that Philip could not enter into life more favorably than as cousin of François de la Ville, who was but two years or so with senior, and who will, his mother wrote to Marie, ride behind that gallant gentleman, François de la Nuit, if the war breaks out again. I am glad to feel confident that Philip will in no way bring discredit upon his relations. I shall at once order clothes for him, suitable for the occasion. They will be such as will be fit in English gentlemen, good in material but sober in color, for the Huguenots eschew bright hues. I will take his measure and send up to a friend in London for a helmet, breast, and back pieces, together with offensive arm, sore, dagger, and pistols. I have already written to correspondents at Southampton and Plymouth for news as to the sailing of a ship bound to La Rochelle. There he had better take four men into his service, for in these days it is by no means safe to ride through France unattended, especially when one is of the reform religion. The roads abound with disbanded soldiers and robbers, while in the villages a fanatic might at any moment bring on a religious tumult. I have many correspondents at La Rochelle and will write to one asking him to select four stout soldiers who show their courage in the last war and can be relied on for good and faithful service. I will also get him to buy horses with all arrangements for the journey. Marie will write to her sister. Lucie perhaps had better write under the same cover, for although she can remember but little of Emily, seeing that she was fully six years her junior, it would be natural that she should take the opportunity to correspond with her. In one respect, Phil, he went on, turning to his nephew, you will find yourself at some disadvantage, perhaps among young Frenchmen. You can ride well and I think instead a horse with any of them, but of the manage, that is to say the mental management of a horse in which they are most carefully instructed, you know nothing. It is one of the tricks of fashion of which plain men like myself know but little and though I have often made inquiries, I have found no one who could instruct you. However, these delicacies are rather for courtly displays and for the rough work of war, though it might be owned that in single combat between two swordsmen, he who has the most perfect control over his horse and can make the animal wheel or turn, press upon his opponent by a mere touch of his leg or hand, possesses a considerable advantage over the man who is unversed in such matters. I hope that you will not feel the want of it and at any rate, it has not been my fault that you have had no opportunity of acquiring the art. The tendency is more and more to fight on foot. The duel has taken the place of the combat in the lists and the pikemen counts for as much in the winning of a battle as the mounted man. You taught us that at Cressie and Agancourt, but we have been slow to learn the lesson which was brought home to you in your battles with the Scots and in your own civil struggles. It is the bow and the pike that have made the English soldier famous, while in France where the feudal system still prevails, horsemen still form a large proportion of our armies and the jousting lists and the exercise of the menage still occupy a large share of the training and amusements of the young men of noble families. Six weeks later, Phillip Fletcher landed at La Rochelle with his aunt and her French serving maid. When the ship came into port, each of a trader there came on board at once and, on the part of his employer, begged Madame Vélan and her son to take up their abode at his house. He having been warned of their coming by his valued correspondent, Bonjour Vélan. A porter was engaged to carry up their luggage to the house, whether the clerk at once conducted them. From his having lived so long among the Huguenot colony, the scene was less strange to Phillip than it would have been to most English lads. La Rochelle was a strong Protestant city and the sober-colored costumes of the people differed but little from those to which he was accustomed in the streets of Canterbury. He himself and his aunt attracted no attention whatever from passers-byes. Her costume being exactly similar to those worn by the wives of merchants, while Phillip would have passed anywhere as a young Huguenot gentleman in his doublet of dark, puce cloth, slashed with gray, his trunks of the same color and long gray hose. A proper-looking young gentleman, a market-woman said to her daughter as he passed by, another two or three years and he will make a rare defender of the faith. He must be from Normandy with his fair complexion and light eyes. There are not many of the true faith in the north. They were met by the merchant at the door of his house. I am glad indeed to see you again, Madame Vélan, he said. It is some twenty years now since you and your good husband and your sister hid here for three days and we could smuggle you on board a ship. Ah, those were bad times, though there had been worse since. But since our people showed that they did not intend any longer to be slaughtered unresistingly, things have gone better here, at least. And for the last four years, the slaughtering and murderings have ceased. You were brought little change, Madame, since I saw you last. I have lived a quiet and happy life, my good mangeur patron. Free from all strife and care, save for anxiety about our people here. Why cannot Catholics and Protestants live quietly side by side here as they do in England? We should ask for nothing better, Madame. At this moment a girl came hurrying down the stairs. This is my daughter Jean, Madame. Why were you not down before, Jean? He asked sharply. I told you to play sousette at the casement to warn you when our visitors were in sight, so that you should, as was proper, be at the door to meet them. I suppose instead of that, you had to make arranging your headgear or some such worldly folly. The girl colored hotly, for her father had hit upon the truth. Young people will be young people, mangeur patron.  Youth is a time for mirth and happiness, and nature teaches a maiden that is becoming to her. Why, then, shall we blame her for setting off the charms God has given her to their best advantage? By this time they had reached the upper story, and the merchant's daughter hastened to relieve Madame Vélan of her raps. This is my nephew of whom my husband wrote to you. The latter said to the merchant when Philip entered the room, he having lingered at the door to pay the porters, and to see that the luggage, which had come up close behind them, was stored. He looks active and strong, Madame. He is the figure of a fine swordsman. He has been well taught and will do no discredit to our race, mangeur patron. His father is a strong and powerful man, even for an Englishman, and though Philip does not follow his figure, he has something of his strength. They are wondrous strong, these Englishmen, the trader said. I have seen among their sailors men who are taller by a head than most of us here, and who look strong enough to take a bull while the horns and hold him. But had it not been for your nephew's fair hair and grey eyes, his complexion and the smile on his lips, we have almost forgotten how to smile in France. I should hardly have taken him for an Englishman. There is nothing extraordinary in that, mangeur patron. When his mother is French and he has lived greatly in the society of my husband and myself and among the Huguenot colony at Kentaberry. Have you succeeded in getting the horses and the four men for us, mangeur patron? Philip asked. Yes, everything is in readiness for your departure to-morrow. Madame Will, I suppose, ride behind you upon a pillion and her maid behind one of the troopers. I have, in accordance with mangeur-vélan's instruction, bought a horse which I think you will be pleased with, for Guise himself might ride upon it without feeling that he was ill-mounted. I was fortunate in riding on such an animal. It was the property of a young noble rider from Navarre and was sailing for England. I imagine he bore dispatches from the Queen to our Majesty of England. He had been set upon by robbers in the way. They took everything he possessed and held him prisoner, doubtless, meaning to get at ransom for him. But he managed to slip off while they slept and to mount his horse, with which he easily left the violets behind, although they chased him for some distance. So when he came here, he offered to sell his horse to obtain an outfit and money for his voyage. And the landlord of the inn, who was a friend of mine, knowing that I had been inquiring for a good animal, plot him to me, and we soon struck a bargain. It was hard on him to lose his horse in that fashion, Philip said, and I am sorry for it, though I may be the gainer thereby. He did not seem to mind much, the merchant said. Horses are good and abundant in Navarre. And when I said I did not like to take advantage of his straight, he only laughed and said that he had three or four others as good at home. I would say, though, that he would like to know if it was to be in good hands. I assured him that on that ground he need not fear, for that I bought him for a young gentleman, nearly related to the Countess de la Vie. He said that was well and seemed glad, indeed, that it was not to be ridden by one of the brigands into whose hands he fell. And the men, are they trustworthy fellows? They are stout men at arms. They are Gascons all, and rode behind Coligny in the war, and according to their own account performed by the commanders. But, as Gascons are given to boasting, I paid not much heed to that. However, they were recommended to me by a friend, a large wine grower, for whom they had been working for the last two years. He says they are honest and industrious, and they are leaving him only because they are anxious for a change, and, deeming that troubles were again approaching, wanted to enter the service of some Huguenot Lord who would be led to take the field. He was lamenting the fact to me when I said that it seemed to me that it was a change of, and I accordingly saw them and engaged them on the understanding that at the end of the month you should be free to discharge them if you were not satisfied with them, and that equally they could leave your service if they did not find it suit. They have arms, of course, and such armour as they need, and I have bought four serviceable horses for their use, together with a horse to carry your baggage, but which will serve for your body servant. I have not found a man for that office. As I thought, suit you, and in such a business it seems to me better that you should wait and choose for yourself, for in the matter of servants everyone has his fancies, some like a silent nave, while others prefer a merry one, some like a tall proper fellow who can fight if needs be, others a staid man who will do his duty and hold his tongue, who can cook a good dinner and groom a horse well. It is certain you will never find all virtues combined. One man may be all that you wish, but he is a liar, another helps himself, a third is too fond of the bottle. In this matter, then, I did not care to take the responsibility, but I have left it for you to choose for yourself. I shall be more likely to make a mistake than you will, Mangeur Bertrand, Philip said with a laugh. Perhaps so, but then it will be your own mistake, and a man shafes less at the shortcomings of one whom he has chosen himself than at those of one who has, as it were, been forced upon him. Well, there will be no hurry in that matter, Philip said. I can get on well enough without a servant, for a time. Up to the present, I have certainly never given a thought as to what kind of man I should want as a servant, and I should like time to think over a matter which is, from what you say, so important. Assuredly it is important, young sir. If you should take the field, you will find that your comfort greatly depends upon it. A sharp, active knave who will ferret at good quarters for you turn you out a good meal from anything you can get hold of, bring your horse up well groomed in the morning and your army brightly polished, who will not lie to you over much or rob you over much, or will only get drunk at times when you can spare his services. Ah, he will be a treasure to you. But assuredly such a man is not to be found every day. And of course, Marie put in, in addition to what you have said, it would be necessary that he should be one of our religion, unfervent and strong in the faith. My dear lady, I was mentioning possibilities, the trader said. It is, of course, advisable that he should be a Huguenot. It is certainly essential that he should not be a Papist. But beyond this we need not inquire too closely. You cannot expect the virtues of an archbishop and the capacity of a horse boy. If he can find a man embracing the qualities of both, by all means let your son engage him. But as he will require him to be a good cook and a good groom, and he will not require religious instruction from him, the former points are those on which I should advise him to lay most stress. And now, madame Belon, will you let me lead you to the next room where, as my daughter has for some time been trying to make me understand, a meal is ready? And I doubt not that you are also ready, for truly those who travel by sea are seldom able to enjoy food, save when they are much accustomed to voyaging. Though they tell me that, after a time, even those with the most delicate stomachs recover their appetites and are able to enjoy the rough fare they get on board a ship. After the meal was over, the merchant took Philip to the stables, where the new purchases have been put up. The men were not there, but they also brought out Philip's horse with which he was delighted. He will not tire under his double load, the merchant said, and with only your weight upon him, a foe-man would be well mounted indeed to overtake you. I would rather that you put it, Mangeur Bertrand, that a foe-man needs to be well mounted to escape me. Well, I hope it will be that way, his host replied smiling, but in fighting such as we have here there are constant changes. The party that is pursued one day is the pursuer a week later. Another two, you know, speed is of much more important in flight than in pursuit. If you cannot overtake a foe, well, he gets away, and you may have better fortune next time. But if you can't get away from a foe, the chances are you may never have another opportunity of doing so. Perhaps you are right. In fact, now I think of it, I am sure you are. Though I hope it will not often happen that we shall have to depend on your safety on the speed of our horses. At any rate, I am delighted with him, Mangeur Bertrand, and I thank you greatly for securing so fun an animal for me. If the foe-man turn out to be as good, of their kind, as the horse, I shall be well set up indeed. Early the next morning, the foe-man came round to the merchants, and Philip went down with him to the entry hall where they were. He was well satisfied with their appearance. They were stout fellows, from 26 to 30 years old. All were so willy dressed and wore steel caps and breast pieces, and carry long swords by their sides. In spite of the serious expression of their faces, Philip saw that they were all in high, if restrained, spirits at again taking service. This is your employer, the Sir Philip Fletcher. I have warranted that he shall find you good and true men, and I hope you will do justice to my recommendation. We will do our best, Roger, the eldest of the party, said. We are all right to be moving again. It is not as if we have been brought on the soil here, and a man never takes to a strange place as to one he was born in. You are Gaskins, Mongeau Bertrand tells me, Philip said. Yes, sir, we were driven out from their ten years ago when the troubles were at their worst. Our fathers were both killed, and we traveled with our mothers and sisters by night through the country till we got to La Rochelle.  Your brothers, Roger said, touching the youngest of the party on his shoulder. Eustace and Henry are brothers, and are our cousins. Their father and ours were brothers. When the troubles broke out, we four took service with the Count de Luc, and followed him throughout the war. When it was over, we came back here. Our mothers had married again. Some of our sisters had taken husbands too. Others were in service. Therefore, we remained here rather than return to Gaskini, where our friends and relations had all been either killed or dispersed. We were lucky in getting employment together, but we were right glad when we heard that there was an opening again for service. For the last two years, they've been looking forward to it, for as everyone sees, it cannot be long before the matter must be fired again. And in truth, we have been worrying for the time to come. For after having had a year of fighting, one does not settle down readily to tilling the soil. You will find that you can rely on us, sir, for a faithful service. We all bore a good reputation as stout fighters, and during the times we were in harness before, we none of us got into trouble for being over-fond of the wine pots. I think you will suit me very well, Philip said, and I hope that my service will suit you. Although an Englishman by birth and name, my family have suffered persecution here as yours have done, and I am as warmly affected to the Huguenot causes yourselves. If there is danger, you will not find me lacking in leading you, and so far as I can I shall try to make my service a comfortable one and to look after your welfare. We shall be ready to start in half an hour, therefore have the horses round at the door in that time. One of the pillions is to be placed on my own horse. You had better put the other for the maid behind your saddle, Roger. You being, I take it, the oldest of your party, had better take charge of her. The men saluted and went out. I like their looks very much, Philip said to the merchant, stout fellows and cheerful, I should say. Like my aunt, I don't see why we should carry long faces mon jour pour trôme, because we have reformed our religion, and I believe that a light heart and good spirits will stand where and tear better than a sad visage. The four men were no less pleased with their new employer. That is a lad after my own heart, Roger said as they went out. Quick and alert, pleasant to face, and yet I will be bound, not easily turned from what he said his mind to. He bears himself well and I doubt not can use his weapons. I don't know what stock he comes from on this side, but I warned it is a good one. He will make a good master lads. I think that, as he says, he will be thoughtful as to our comforts and be pleasant and cheerful with us. But mind you, he will expect the work to be done and you will find that there is no trifling with him. End of chapter two, recorded January 2008 Saint Bartholomew's Eve by G. A. Henty This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit LibriVox.org Read by Anna Christensen Chapter three In a French Chateau The three days ride to the chateau of the Countess de la Ville was marked by no incident. To Philip it was an exceedingly pleasant one. Everything was new to him. The architecture of the churches and villages, the dress of the people, their modes of agriculture all differing widely from those to which he was accustomed. In some villages the Catholics predominated and here the passage of the little party started with fronting brows and muttered threats. By the Huguenots they were saluted respectfully and if they halted, many questions were asked their followers as to news about the intentions of the court, the last rumors as to the attitude of Condé and the prospects of a continuance of peace. Here too great respect was paid to Marie and Philip when it was known they were relatives of the Countess de la Ville and belonged to the family of the Dimuli. Emily had for some time been a widow, the Count, her husband having fallen in the battle of Dro at the end of the year 1562 but being an active and capable woman she had taken into her hands the entire management of the estates and was one of the most influential among the Huguenot nobles of that part of the country. From their last halting place Marie Vélon sent on a letter by one of the men to her sister announcing their coming. She had written on their landing at La Rochelle and they had been met on their way by a messenger from the Countess expressing her delight that her sister had at last carried out her promise to visit her and saying that Francois was looking eagerly for the coming of his cousin. The Chateau was a semi fortified building capable of making a stout resistance against any sudden attack. It stood on the slope of a hill and Philip felt a little odd at its stately aspect as they approached it. When they were still a mile away a party of horsemen rode out from the gaugeway and in a few minutes their leader rained up his horse in front of them and springing from it advanced towards Philip who also alighted and helped his aunt to dismount. My dear aunt the young fellow said doffing his hat I am come in the name of my mother to greet you and to tell you how joyful she is that you have at last come back to us. This is my cousin Philip of course that you are not what I expected to see my mother told me that you are two years my junior and I had looked to find you you are still a boy but by my faith you seem to be as old as I am why you are taller by two inches and broader and stronger too I should say can it be true that you are about 16 that is my age cousin Francois and I am as you expected but a boy yet and I can assure you no taller or broader than many of my English school pills of the same age but we must not delay aunt Francois said turning again to her my mother's commands were urgent that I was not to delay a moment in private talk with you but to bring you speedily on to her therefore I pray you to mount again and ride on with me for doubtless she is watching impatiently now and will chide me rarely if we linger accordingly the party remounted at once and rode forward to the chateau a dozen men at arms were drawn up at the gate and on the steps of the entrance from the courtyard into the chateau itself the countess was standing Francois leapt from his horse and was by the side of his aunt as Philip brained in his horse taking his hand she sprang lightly from the saddle and in a moment the two sisters fell into each other's arms it was more than 20 years since they last met but time had dealt gently with them both the countess had changed least she was two or three years older than Marie was tall and had been somewhat stately even as a girl she had had many cares but her position had always been assured as the wife of a powerful noble she had been accustomed to be treated with deference and respect and although the troubles of the time and the loss of her husband had left their marks she was still a fair and stately woman at the age of 43 Marie, upon the other hand had lived an untroubled life for the past 20 years she had married a man who was considered beneath her but the match had been in every way a happy one her husband was devoted to her and the expression of her face showed that she was a thoroughly contented and happy woman you are just what I fancied you would be Marie my little home bird living in your nest beyond the sea and free from all the troubles and anxieties of our unhappy country you have been good to write so often far better than I have been and I seem to know all about your quiet, well ordered home and your good husband and his business that flourishes so I thought you were a little foolish in your choice and that our father was wrong in mating you as he did but it has turned out well and you have been living in quiet waters while we have been encountering a sea of troubles and how youth is our nephew Philip I wish you could have brought over Lucie with you it would have been pleasant indeed for us three sisters to be reunited again if only for a time why, your Philip is taller than François and yet he is two years younger I congratulate you on the sea upon him salute me nephew I had not looked to see so proper a youth you show the blood of the de moulis plainly Philip I suppose you get your height and your strength from your English father they are big men these English Emily and his father is big even among them but as you say Saiglin sighs Philip takes after our side rather than his father's and of course he has mixed so much with our colony at Canterbury that in spite of his being English bread we have preserved in him something of the French manner and I think his heart is fairly divided between the two countries let us go in, the Countess said you need rest and refreshment after your journey and I longed to have a quiet talk with you François do you take charge of your cousin I have told the survey men to let you have a meal in your own apartments and then you can show him over the chateau and the stables François and Philip bowed to the two ladies and then they went off together that is good the young Count said laying his hand on Philip's shoulder now we should get to know each other you will not be angry I hope when I tell you that though I have looked forward to seeing my aunt in you I have yet been a little anxious in my mind I do not know why but I have always pictured the English as somewhat rough and uncouth as doubty fighters for so they have shown themselves to our cost but as somewhat deficient in the graces of manner and when I heard that my aunt was bringing you over to leave you for a time with us since you longed to fight in a good cause I have thought pray do not be angry with me for I feel ashamed of myself now and he hesitated that I should be a rough cob whom you would be somewhat ashamed of introducing to your friends as your cousin Philip laughed I am not surprised English boys have ideas just as erroneous about the French and that was a perpetual wonder to my school fellows that being half French I was yet as strong and as tough as they were doubtless I should have been somewhat different had I not lived so much with my uncle and aunt and the Huguenot community at Canterbury Montreveillon and my aunt have always been pressed upon me that I belong to a noble French family and might some day come over here to stay with my relations and I have taken much pain with my deported manners and have so far succeeded that I am always called Frenchy among my English companions though in their own games and sports I could hold my own with any of them and can you ride Philip I can sit on any horse but I have had no opportunity of learning the ménage that matters little after all François Hussain though it is an advantage to be able to manage your horse with a touch of the heel or the slightest pressure of the rain and to make him real and turn it will while leading both arms free to user weapons you have learned to fence yes, there were some good masters among the colony and many a lesson have I had from old soldiers passing through who paid for a week's hospitality by putting me up to a few tricks with a sword I thought you could fence François Hussain yes, I learned to dance and for the same reason I think my uncle rather scandalized the people of our religion in Canterbury he maintained that it was necessary as part of the education of a gentleman and that in the English word I learned to dance I learned to dance I learned to dance I learned to dance I learned to dance I learned to dance I learned to danceIA is an education of a gentleman and that in the English Protestant court dancing was as highly thought of as in that of France the queen herself being noted for her dancing and none can throw doubts upon her Protestantism my mother and aunt were both against it but as my father supported my uncle he had his own way well, I see Phillip we shall be good comrades there are many among us, younger of Juguenot's who there were staunch in the religion as our father's and it's ready to fight and die for it if need be see that it is needful to go about always with grave faces, and to be cut off from all innocent amusements. It is our natural disposition to be gay, and I see not why, because we hold the mass in detestation, and I revolted against the authority of the Pope, and the abuses of the Church.  I have been taught to bear myself gravely in the presence of my elders, Philip replied with a smile, and truly at Canterbury the French colony was a grave one, being strangers in a strange land, but among my English friends I think I was as much disposed for a bit of fun or mischief as any of them. But I thought the English were a grave race. I think not Francois, we call England Mary England. I think we are an earnest people, but not a grave one.  The French boys of the colony never used to join in our sports, regarding them as rude and violent beyond all reason. But it is all in good humor, and it is rare indeed for anyone who loses temper, however rough the play and hard the knocks. Then they are fond of dancing and singing, save among the strictest sex, and the court is as gay as any in Europe. I do not think that the English can be called a grave people. Well, I am glad that it is so Philip, and especially that you yourself are not grave. Now, as we have finished our meal, let us visit the staples. I have a horse already set aside for you, but I saw as we were adhithered that you are already excellently mounted. Still, Victor, that is his name, shall be at your disposal. A second horse is always useful, for shot and air is no more spare a horse than his rider. The staples were large and well ordered, for during the past two months there have been large additions made by the countess in view of the expected troubles. This is my charger. I call him Rolo. He was brought on the estate, and when I am upon him I feel that the king is not better mounted. He is a splendid animal, indeed, Philip said, as Rolo tossed his head and winnied with pleasure at his master's approach. He can do anything but talk, Francois said as he petted him. He will lie down when I tell him, will come to my whistle, and with the reins lying loose on his neck will obey my voice as readily as he would my hand. This is my second horse, Pluto. He is the equal of Rolo in strength and speed, but not so docile and obedient, and he has a temper of his own. He looks it, Philip agree. I should keep well out of reach of his heels and jaws. He is quiet enough when I am on his back, Francois laughed, but I own that he is a terror of the stable boys. This is Victor. He is not quite as handsome as Rolo, but he has speed and courage in good manners. He is a beautiful creature, Philip said enthusiastically. I was very well satisfied with my purchase, but he will not show to advantage by the side of Victor. Ah, I see they have put him in the next stall, Francois said. He is a fine animal he went on after examining the horse closely. He comes from Gascony, I should say. He has signs with Spanish blood. Yes, from Gascony or Navar. I was very fortunate in getting him, and he related how the animal had been left at La Rochelle. You got him for less than half his value, Philip. What are you going to call him? I shall call him Robin. That was the name of my favorite horse at home. I see you have got some stout animals in the other stalls, though of course they are a very different quality to your own. Yes, many of them are new purchases. We have taken on 30-minute arms, stout fellows, old soldiers all, who my mother will send into the field if we come to blows. Besides these there will be some 20 of our tenants. We could have raised the whole number among them if we had chosen, for if we called up the full strength of the estate and put all boundaries service in the field in wartime, we could turn out fully 300, but if these will nigh a third our Catholics and could not in any way be relied on, nor would it be just a call upon them to fight against their co-religionists. Again, it would not do to call out all our Huguenot tenants, for these would leave their wives and families and homes and property, just like nothing of the Chateau, at the mercy of the Catholics while we were away. I do not think that our Catholic tenants would interfere with them, still less with the Chateau, for our family have ever been good masters and my mother is loved by men of both parties. Still, bands might come from other districts or from towns to pillage or slay with the estate left without fighting men. Therefore, we have taken these men at arms into our service, with 20 of our own tenants, all young men belonging to large families, while the rest will remain behind as a guard for the estate in Chateau. And as in all, they could muster some 250 strong and would be joined by the other Huguenots of the district. They would not likely be molested, unless one of the Catholic armies happened to come in this direction. Directly, I start with a troop, the younger sons of the tenants will be called in to form a garrison here. We have 5 and 30 names down, and there are 20 men capable of bearing arms among the household, many of whom I've seen service. Jaquie Perot, our senegal, has been a valiant soldier in his time, and would make the best of them. And my mother would surely keep our flag flying till the last. I shall go away in comfort for unless the geese is marched this way, there is little fear of trouble in our absence. We are fortunate in this province, the parties are pretty evenly divided, and have mutual respect for each other. In districts where we are greatly outnumbered, it is hard for fighting men to march away with a possibility that on their return they will find their families murdered, and their homes leveled to the ground. Now we will take a turn round the grounds. Their beauty has been sadly destroyed. You see, before the trouble seven years ago broke out, there was a view from the windows on this side of the house over the park and shrubberies, but at that time my father thought it necessary to provide against sudden attacks, and therefore before he went away to the war he had this wall with its flanking towers erected. All the tenants came in and helped, and it was built in five weeks time. It has, as you see, made the place safe from a sudden attack, for on the other three sides the old defenses remained unaltered. It was on this side only that my great father had the house modernized, believing that the days of civil war were at an end. You see, this new wall forms a large quadrangle. We call it the Countess's Garden, and my mother has done her best by planting it with shrubs and fast-growing trees to make up the loss of the view she formerly had from the windows. Along one side you see there are storehouses, which are screened from you by that bank of turf. They are all now full of grain. There is a gate, as you see, opposite. In case of trouble, cattle would be driven in here, and the garden turned into a stockyard, so that there is no fear of our being starved out. 55 men are a small garrison for so large a place, Francois. Yes, but that is only against a sudden surprise. In case of alarm, the spot, the Protestant tenants would all come in with their wives and families, and the best of their horses and cattle, and then they'll be forced enough to defend the place against anything short of a siege by an army. You see, there is a moat that runs all around. It is full now on three sides, and there was a little stream that went down from behind, which would fill the foresight in a few hours. Tomorrow we will take a ride to the park, which lies beyond that wall. Entering the house, they pass through several stately apartments, and then enter a large hall completely hung with arms and armor. This is the grand hall, and you see it also serves the purpose of a sale d'hommes. Here we have arms and armor for a hundred men, for although all the tenants are bound by the terms of their holding to appear when called upon fully armed and accrued. Each with so many men according to the size of his farm. There may well be deficiencies, especially as, until the religious troubles begin, it was a great number of years since they had been called upon to take the field. For the last eight years, however, they have been trained and drilled, fifty to time coming up once a week. That began two years before the last war, as my father always held that it was absurd to take a number of men wholly and accustomed to the use of arms into the field. Aging court taught that lesson to our nobles, though it has been forgotten by most of them. We have two officers accustomed to drill and marshal men, and these act as teachers here in the park. The footmen practice with pike and sword. They are exercised with archibus and crossbows in the park, and the mounted men are taught to maneuver and charge, so that, in case of need, we can show a good face against any body of troops of equal number. It is here I practice with my matri d'hommes, and with Montpais and Bordeaux, our two officers. Ah, here is Charles, my matri d'hommes. Charles, this is my cousin Philip, who will also be a pupil of yours while he remains here. What do you say, Philip? What would try about with blended swords just now? With pleasure, Philip said. The art defensing had not, at that time, reached the perfection it afterwards attained. The swords used were long and straight, and sharpened at both edges, and were used as much for cutting as thrusting. In single combat on foot, long daggers were genuinely held in the left hand, and were used for the purpose both of guarding and of striking at close quarters. They put on thick, cooler doublets and light helmets with visors. Do you use a dagger, Philip? No, I have never seen one used in England. We are taught to guard with our swords as well as to strike with them. Montju has learned from English teachers? The matri d'hommes asked. I have had English teachers as well as French, Philip said. We all learn the use of the sword in England, but my uncle, Montju Vélon, has taken great pains in having me talk also by such French professors of arms as lived in Canterbury, or happen to pass through it, but I own that I prefer the English style of fighting. We generally stand upright to our work, equally poised on the two feet for advance or retreat while you lean with the body far forward in the armrest stretch, which seems to me to cripple the movements. Yes, but it puts the body out of harm's way. François said. It is the arm's business to guard the body, François, and it is impossible to strike a downright blow when leaning so far forward. We strike but little nowadays in single combat, the matri d'hommes said. The point is more effective. That is doubtless so, Matra Charles, Philip agreed, but I have not learned fencing for the sake of fighting duels, but to be able to take part in the field of battle. The Spaniards are said to be masters of the straight sword, and yet they have been roughly used in the western seas by our sailors, who, me thinks, always use the edge. The two now took up their position facing each other. Their attitude was strikingly different. François stood on bent knees, leaning far forward, while Philip stood erect, with his knees but slightly bent, waiting to spring either forwards or backwards, with his arm but half extended. For a time, both fought cautiously. François had been well taught, having had the benefit, whenever he was in Paris, of the best masters there. He was extremely active and, as they warmed to their work, Philip had difficulty in standing his ground against his impetuous rushes. Some minutes passed without either of them succeeding in touching the other. At length, they made her darn, called upon them to lower their swords. That is enough, he said. You are equally matched. I congratulate you, Bonjour Philip. You have been well taught, and indeed there are not many use of his age you could hold their own with my people.  Enough has been done for one day. Pest Philip, François, I said, as you removed his helmet. I was not wrong when I said that. From your figure, I was sure that you had learned fencing. Major trials interfere on my behalf, and to save me the mortification of defeat. I had nearly shot my bolt, and you had scarcely begun. I own myself a convert. Your attitude is better than ours. That is, when the hand is skillful enough to defend the body. The defeat of holding the arm extended, as I do, is much greater than it is as you stand. And in the long run, you must get the better of anyone who is not sufficiently skillful to slay you before his arm becomes fatigued. What do you think, Major Charles? My cousin is two years younger than I am, and yet his wrist and arm are stronger than mine, as I could feel every time he put aside my attacks. Is that so? The Major's arm said in surprise, I had taken him for your senior. He will be a famous man at arms, when he attains his full age. His defense is wonderfully strong, and although I do not admit that he is superior to you with a point, he would be a formidable opponent to any of our best swordsmen in a melee. If, as he says, he is more accustomed to use the edge than the point. I will myself try him tomorrow, if he will permit me. I have always understood that the English are more used to strike than to thrust. And although in their duel, the edge has a little chance against the point. I own that it is altogether different in a melee on horseback, especially as the point cannot penetrate armor, while a stop blow, will deliver with a strong arm, can break it in. Are you skilled in exercises of the ring, Mongeur Philippe? Not at all. I have had no practice whatever in them, except in some of the great houses. The tourney has gone quite out of fashion in England, and now I can ride a horse across country. I know nothing whatever of knightly exercises. My father has been a small proprietor, and, up to the time I left England, I have been but a schoolboy. If all your schoolboys understand the use of arms, as you do, Metro Charles said courteously, it is no wonder that the English are terrible fighters. I do not say that, Philippe said smiling. I have had the advantage of the best teaching, both English and French, to be had at Canterbury, and it would be a shame for me, indeed, if I had not learned to defend myself. What do you think, mother? François said, This cousin of mine, whom I intended to patronize, turns out to be already a better swordsman than I am. Not better, madame, Philippe said hastily. We were a fair match, now they're having touched the other. Philippe is too modest, mother. François laughed. Metro Charles stopped us in time to save me from defeat. Why? He has a wrist like iron, this cousin of mine. We have done our best to have him well taught, Madame Vélon said. There were some good swordsmen among our Huguenot friends, and he also had the best English teachers we could get for him. My husband always wished particularly, that if he ever came over to visit our friends here, he should not be deficient in such matters. I feel a little crestfallen, the Countess said. I have been rather proud of François' skills as swordsmen, and I own that it is a little mortifying to find that Philippe, who is two years younger, is already his match. Still, I am glad that it is so, for if they ride together into battle, I should wish that Philippe should do honor to our race. Now, Philippe, I have been hearing all about your mother's life, as well as that of your uncle and aunt. Now, let us hear about your own, which must need differ wildly from that to which François has been accustomed. Your aunt says that your English schools differ altogether from ours. With us, our sons are generally brought up at home, and are instructed by the chaplain and Huguenot families, or by the priests and Catholic families, or else they go to religious seminaries where they are taught what is necessary of books in Latin, being under strict supervision and learning all other matters such as the use of arms after leaving school, or when at home with their families. Philippe gave an account of his school life and its rough games and sports. But is it possible, Philippe, the Countess said in tones of horror, that you used to wrestle into fight, fight with your arms and fists against rough boys and sons of all sorts of common people? Certainly I did, aunt, and it did me a great deal of good, and no harm so far as I know. All these rough sports strengthen their frame and give quickness and vigor, just the same as excersises with the sword do. I should never have been so tall and strong as I am now, if, instead of going to an English school, I had been either, as you say, educated at home by a chaplain, or sent to be taught and looked after by priests. My mother did not like it at first, but she came to see that it was good for me. Besides, there is not the same difference between classes in England as there is in France. There is more independence in the lower and middle classes, and less haughtiness and pride in the upper. And I think that it is better so. It is the English custom, Emily, her sister said. And I can assure you that my husband and I have got very English in some things. We do not love our country less, but we see that in many respects the English ways are better than ours, and we admire the independence of the people, every man respecting himself, though giving honor, but not lavishly, to those higher placed. The countess shrugged her shoulders. We will not argue, Marie. At any rate, whatever the process, it has succeeded well with Philip. The days pass quietly at the chateau. Before breakfast, Philip spent an hour on horseback, learning to manage his horse by the pressure of knee or hand. This was the more easy as both his horses had been thoroughly trained in the ménage, and under the instruction of Captain Mon Pace, who had been Francois' teacher, he made rapid progress. It is much easier to teach the man than the horse, his instructor said. Although a horse turns readily enough, when its rider is a master of the art, but with horse and rider alike ignorant, it is a long business to get them to work together as if they were one, which is what it should be.  But it would take months of patient teaching for you so to acquire the art of horsemanship as to be able to train a horse yourself. After the last year, the lesson was over, Francois and Philip would tilt at rings and go through other exercises in the courtyard. Breakfast over, they went hawking or hunting. Of the former sport, Philip was entirely ignorant and was surprised to learn how highly a knowledge of it was prized in France and how necessary it was considered as part of the education of a gentleman. Upon the other hand, his shooting with a bow and arrow astonished Francois, for though had never been a French weapon, and as the crossbow was fast-giving way to the archivists, but few gentlemen trouble themselves to learn the use of either one or the other. The pistol, however, was becoming a recognized portion of the outfit of a cavalier in the field, and following Francois' advice, Philip practiced with one steadily until he became a fair shot. They are cowardly weapons, Francois said, but for all that, they are useful in battle. When you are surrounded by three or four pikemen thrusting at you, it is a good thing to be able to disembarrass yourself of one or two of them. Besides, these German horsemen of whom the geese imply so many, all carry firearms and the contest would be too uneven if we were armed only with a sword. Though for my part, I wish that all the governments of Europe would agree to do away with the firearms of every description. They place the meanest footmen upon the level of the bravest knight, and in the end will, it seems to me, reduce armies to the level of machines. In the afternoons, there were generally gatherings of young gentry, who came to discuss the situation, to exchange news, or to listen to the last rumors from Paris. No good had arisen from the conference of Bayonne, and one by one the privileges of the Huguenots were being diminished. The uprising of the Protestants of Holland was watched with the greatest interest by the Huguenots of France. It was known that several of the most influential Huguenot nobles had met at Valarie and at Chatillon to discuss with the Prince of Condé and Admiral Coligny the question of again taking up arms and defence of their liberties. It was rumoured that the opinion of the majority was that the Huguenot standard should be again unfurled, and that this time there should be no laying down of their arms until freedom of worship was guaranteed to all, but that the Admiral had used all his powers to persuade them that the time had not yet come and that it was better to bear trials and prosecutions for a time in order that the world might see that they had not appealed to arms until driven to it by the failure of all other hope of redress of their grievances. The elder men among the visitors at the Chateau were of the Admiral's opinion. The younger is shaped at the delay. The position had become intolerable. Protestant worship was absolutely forbidden except in a few specified buildings near some of the large towns and all Protestants say those dwelling in those localities were forced to meet secretly and at the risk of their lives for the purpose of worship. Those caught transgressing the law were thrown into prison subjected to crushing vines and even punished with torture and death. Better a thousand times to die with swords in our hands in the open field than thus tamely to see our brethren ill treated and persecuted was the cry of the young men and Philip from daily hearing tales of persecution and cruelty had become more and more zealous in the Huguenot cause fully shared their feeling. In the presence of the elders, however, the more ardent spirits were silent at all times grave and sober in manner and word. The knowledge that a desperate struggle could not long be deferred and the ever increasing encroachments of the Catholics added to the gravity of their demeanor. Sometimes those present broke up into groups talking in an undertone. Sometimes the gathering took the form of a general council occasionally some fugitive minister or a noble from some district where the persecution was particularly fierce would be present and their narratives would be listened to with stirring faces by the elders and with passionate indignation by the younger men. In spite of the decrees, the Countess still retained her chaplain and before the meetings broke up prayers were offered by him for their persecuted brethren and for a speedy deliverance of those of the reformed religion from the cruel disabilities under which they labored. Services were held night and morning in the chateau. These were attended not only by all the residents but by many of the farmers and their families. The Countess had already received several warnings from the Catholic authorities of the province but to these she paid no attention and there were no forces available to enforce the decree in her case as it would require nothing short of an army to overcome the opposition that be expected joined as she would be by the other Huguenot gentry of the district. End of Chapter 3 Recorded February 2008