Hombourg, between Sarrebruck and Kayserslautern, the latter set out at the head of a party of dragoons and the officers of the garrison to intercept them. The fugitives defended themselves for some time, but, being overpowered, they took to flight, some effecting their escape; but the greater part were taken prisoners to Hombourg, where many were forced to abjure their faith.

On the 1st of November, 1685, the president Charles Colbert deprived by superior orders the Sieur Jean Olry, and all other counsellors and notaries of the Reformed religion, of their licenses to practise; and this was followed up by an invasion of their studies, and by putting the government seal upon all their papers and public acts. Their offices were afterwards sold by auction, and certain round sums of money pocketed by the officials. The most insolent of the soldiery were at the same time billeted in their houses; and one of them sorely tried Jean Olry's patience, by endeavouring to precipitate his eldest daughter down a well. "But," he adds, in the spirit of a true Christian, after having appealed to the authorities in vain, and "having made my wife and daughter sensible of the little justice we had to expect at the hands of our enemies, we resolved to exercise the patience which God exacted from us, and abide till it pleased Him to deliver us." Every day new proclamations were made by sound of trumpet, depriving the Protestants of further liberties and privileges. Amongst others was one which made the parents responsible for the flight of their children; and many were imprisoned and fined. This not sufficing, the Host was carried about the town without the usual bell, and the brethren, taken by surprise, were accused either with avoiding it, or not paying it due respect, and were mulcted in heavy fines, or imprisoned for long periods.

The Sieur Jean Olry escaped these perils, but only to be reserved for more severe trials. An edict had been published to the effect that all those who refused to take the Sacrament in illness should be condemned, if they recovered, to imprisonment for life, and confiscation of their goods; if they died, their bodies should be taken to the prison, whence they should be conveyed on a hurdle to the slaughter-grounds, and cast amidst the offal and bones of dead animals. The first whose body was subjected to this infamous treatment was one Robin, a master shoemaker, who died at Metz; the second was an aged counsellor of the parliament of the same city, who during his lifetime had been respected by all parties; and the third was the wife of Jean Baudesson, a merchant. The public exhibition of these dead bodies dragged along by the executioner, their hair clotted with mud, to be cast away amid garbage, excited horror even in the minds of the Papists.

But such proceedings, worthy only "of tigers and devils," having failed to procure converts, the dragoons were ordered to march upon Metz, where they arrived in a few days, making their entry in triumph. The next day the Protestants received orders to attend at the Hôtel de Ville at nine o'clock, when the intendant informed them that he had received the king's orders to the effect that they should abjure their religion and become Roman Catholics, or that the dragoons should be let loose upon them, and force them to obedience. Two hours only were given to them for consideration. A great many Protestants, discouraged by long persecution, yielded to these menaces, to the infinite grief of the Sieur Jean Olry, who attributes their weakness to the anger of God, excited by

their cowardice and want of zeal. The Sieur Jean being among the stubborn, he had eight dragoons—"incarnations of Satan," he calls them -quartered upon him, and they began by eating and drinking their fill, and threatening worse for the night. Heaven, however, sent them help in this extremity in the person of a good captain, who had previously lodged in their house, and the soldiers having drunk themselves asleep, they were enabled to make their escape, but only by abandoning all they had to their persecutors. The wife and eldest daughter had to go in one direction, the servant and youngest daughter in another, and Olry himself in a third. Nobody daring to harbour him, he wandered in the streets till his heart misgave him, and fearing for his family more than for himself, "je fis une action," he relates, "qui me doit donner de la confusion, et de laquelle je dois demander pardon à Dieu jusqu'au jour de ma mort." He allowed himself, deprived of all grace, to be conducted to the archbishop, where he abjured his faith. This done, an order was given to him to dismiss the dragoons; but he was four days before he recovered his wife and daughter, who spent the first night in a Jewish synagogue; the second in the Saussaies, lying on planks; the third in a hole in the old walls of the citadel; and returning home on the fourth, they were obliged, amidst tears and sobs, to follow the example given to them by the Sieur Jean. "We were thus reunited," he says; "but, good God, in what a manner! with the mark of the Beast on our foreheads, and, in that state, without hope of being allowed to enter the kingdom of Heaven, from which our perfidy and cowardice would for ever exclude us, since we had not resisted, even unto death, as our duty commanded us to do."

Still, however, under these trying circumstances, they found consolation in the Holy Writ; they put faith in repentance, and they resolved not to attend mass, but to seek for mercy and forgiveness. The seals were removed from Olry's papers, and he was allowed to practise his profession, but under the strictest surveillance; and as the country people were in the habit of asking notaries for copies of acts chiefly on Sundays, this was made use of to accuse him of holding secret meetings.

In the month of October, 1687, the cruel Marquis of Boufflers, colonel of dragoons, arrived at Metz, and at once issued orders that all those who had abjured should attend mass, or that the refractory should be punished. All children must at the same time be given up to be educated in the Roman Catholic religion, under the pain of imprisonment. This last edict was the cause of greater affliction than any others, and many were sent to the galères for having secreted or sent away their children. But the tyranny of the new governor did not cease even here; it was determined to exile some among those who appeared most zealous in the cause of their old religion, and the Sieur Jean Olry was among those thus signalised. "In which matter," he adds, "God showed that He had pity on me, and that He wished to honour me by His paternal corrections, which puts upon me the obligation to thank Him, and to bless His holy name, even until death."

On the 20th of December, 1687, a lieutenant and several soldiers came to summon the Sieur Jean before M. Boufflers. He was forced away, without money in his pocket, without having had time to bid his wife and daughter farewell, without having had time even to strengthen himself by Instead of being conducted before the governor, he was led to prayer. the citadel, where he was received by the commandant, M. de Beraut.

M. de Poeydaré, "capitaine au régiment royal des Vaisseaux," and of a noble family, was led in prisoner at the same time. Both being ordered to the room already occupied by the "Seigneur de Mainvilliers, capitaine au regiment de la Ferté," they were further joined there by another captive, "the Seigneur de Rochefort," also a "capitaine au régiment de Bourgogne." The next day M. de Boufflers summoned other of the leading Protestants of the place into his presence, and bade them attend mass within three days, beginning with that at midnight. Only one Charles Goffin, an advocate, remained behind, and told M. de Boufflers that if he had not spoken in the presence of his co-religionaries, it was only that he might not implicate them, but, as to himself, he would never attend mass. He was accordingly at once committed to a dungeon, whence he was exiled to America, where he died. His wife made her escape to Berlin. The family was one of the best connected in the province, and M. Goffin, respected by every one who knew him, was at that time upwards of sixty years of age. The same fatal day was terminated by the execution of the mayor of Grosieux, and of his son, only between fifteen and sixteen years of age, who had had the misfortune to kill a peasant in their attempt to make their escape. A poor man and woman who had abetted them in their flight were hung with them at the same time.

On Tuesday, December 22nd, 1687, the Sieur Jean Olry, received orders to mount horse, in company with captains Poeydaré and Rochefort, in order to be transferred, under charge of fifty dragoons, to the citadel at Verdun. Messieurs Charles Goffin and De Mainvilliers joined the same party subsequently. The ramparts were lined with people to see the prisoners led off, but M. Olry was not permitted to bid his wife and family farewell. The melancholy procession reached Verdun at three in the afternoon of the next Thursday, and they were confined in separate cells, with a sentinel at each door. The commandant of the citadel visited them, and "mademoiselle"* his wife, who had known M. Olry at Metz, wept when she saw him. He learnt from her the sad fate that had befallen his family: his two daughters had been forcibly removed to the convent of the "Propagation," and his wife to a convent in Franche Comté. His youngest daughter, Susanne, was afterwards removed to the convent of the Annunciation, at Vaucouleurs. The wives of Captains de Poeydaré and de Rochefort had been similarly treated. "This sad news," says M. Olry, "overwhelmed me, and, going down on my knees, I complained to God of the evils with which my mind was burdened, begging him to have pity on me, and acknowledging that I had merited my afflictions by my sins." It was a truly trying moment the contest with "the flesh and blood," as the victim designated it. His afflictions must have been severe. It was still in the power of these brave men to save themselves, and to be restored to their wives and families, by submission; but they scorned to prostitute their consciences and barter their souls for any worldly advantage.

Whilst at Verdun other prisoners were brought from Metz, and the next day they were placed in two different vehicles, and, accompanied by archers and musqueteers, were transferred to Sainte-Menehould, where

* The title of "mademoiselle" was, in these times, given to ladies of quality even when married. Hence it is that French writers, when treating of the age of Louis XIV., often speak of Mademoiselle and Madame de la Vallière, De Montespan, and De Fontanges, indiscriminately.

they arrived, their feet lacerated by the shackles that had been put on them, and their bodies in agony from the shaking of the carts. Curious that this was the road taken, a little more than a century afterwards, by the descendant of the then profligate persecutor of these poor Protestant gentlemen, and upon which, being captured, he was taken back to Paris, to perish on a common scaffold.

The next night they slept at Châlons, and on Saturday, at seven in the evening they arrived at Paris. On the Monday following they were put into a vehicle of a better class, in which they were transferred, by Orléans, Blois, and Poitiers, to La Rochelle. They now became aware that their destiny was exile from the land, but their good spirits did not fail them. Nay, upon one occasion, they even enjoyed a joke at the expense of the Roman Catholics, for the sound of a bell having drawn several to the windows to salute the passing Host, they laughed at them heartily when they found it was a bell attached to a miller's cart. Of all things that the Protestants most abominated in those days after the Virgin Mary, whom they called "la créature," was the supposed transubstantiation of the Host into the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ, and which they scorned as the most debasing idolatry. Hence it was that they preferred imprisonment to saluting it, and exile to attending

mass.

At Rochelle they were transferred to the Fort Saint Martin, on the island of Ré, where they found, from passages of Scripture written on the walls, that some of their brethren or sisters had been imprisoned before them.* After having passed the month of February in these dungeons, supported by constant prayer and spiritual exhortations, the commander of the citadel informed them that they must prepare to embark on board a vessel bound for America. The captain of the ship was one Thomas, a Rochellois, recently converted from Protestantism to the Roman Catholic religion, and he treated the prisoners kindly. Before their departure, three ladies of Rochelle came on board with wines, preserves, shirts, shoes, kerchiefs, and other things, as also a small sum of money, the result of a collection they had made in the town. The ship, the Capricieux, sailed on the 1st of March, 1688, and after a rough passage, or what naturally appeared to them to be so, with only a greatcoat for a bed and a little bag of linen for a pillow, they arrived at the island of Martinique.

Once on this island the exiles were allowed personal liberty, and to each was allotted a small grant of land, which he must clear and cultivate, and from which alone he was expected to derive his subsistence. Luckily for them there were a great many more Prostestant exiles in the island, and these hastened to relieve their unfortunate brethren, and to do everything in their power to soften the sorrows of their position. Olry was at that time sixty-four years of age, and he was oppressed with the idea that he should never see his wife and family again. Yet he became so far reconciled to his position as to give a description of the produce of the island, and he notices, among other things, a beautiful alley of orange and lemon trees which led to the house of Madame de

* M. M. Haag, in "La France Protestante, ou Vies des Protestants Français," gives the names of ten women who were imprisoned in 1686 in the citadel of the island of Ré.

Maintenon. Her husband, Constant d'Aubigné, baron of Surinam, unworthy son of Théodore Agrippa d'Aubigné, one of the chiefs of the Reformed religion, ruined by gambling and debauchery, had, after killing his first wife, abjured his religion, married again, and taken refuge in La Martinique. After his death, his daughter Françoise, brought up by her aunt, Madame de Villette, in the Protestant faith, was sent to a convent, and forced to abjure. It was this Françoise who, first wife of the poet Scarron, and then of Louis XIV., became one of the gloomy instigators of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.

Not long after their arrival, Captains Poeydaré and de Rochefort made their escape to Barbadoes, and M. Olry and de Mainvilliers, who remained together, began also to consider how they could regain their liberty. They were aided in their plans to that effect by an aged Protestant, a merchant, who had resided many years on the island, and by an Englishman, who guided them to a boat by which they got on board a vessel sailing to Dominica. They had at that time only been seven weeks on the island. At Dominica they obtained a passage in a French vessel to Sainte Eustache, where they found a large vessel bound for Holland, and on board of which they were received with every kindness and consideration, being thus enabled to make a pleasant passage, rendered still more agreeable by the thoughts of returning home to Amsterdam. Arrived at this city, and having returned thanks to God-to their infinite delight in a Reformed church-for their happy deliverance and safe journey, they went to Utrecht, were they had friends and acquaintances, who assisted them in their distress. Whilst at this city Olry also obtained news of his family, having written and obtained an answer from his eldest daughter, and nine days after, in Easter, 1689, he joined his second daughter at Cassel, in Hesse, where she dwelt with her husband, the Sieur Jean Baltazar Klaute, commissary to his highness the landgrave. Here he also found one of his sons, who had escaped persecution by flight, the same who was afterwards made prisoner of war at Dunkirk. It was while thus united to at least a portion of his family that the venerable exile wrote out, for their benefit, the narrative of his sufferings and travels, not originally intended for publication, and which the worthy pastor of the new Reformed congregation at Metz has been induced to search out at Cassel and reprint in modern orthography. It is impossible not to see that, however modest and unpretending the form of such a publication may be, it is, with other works-as more especially M. G. de Felice's "History of the Protestants in France," A. Crottet's "Petite Chronique Protestante de France," Charles Drion's "Histoire Chronologique de l'Eglise Protestante de France," Lutterworth's "La Réformation en France," De Triqueti's "Premiers Jours du Protestantisme en France," Castel's "Les Huguenots," Ad. Schoeffer's "Essai sur l'Avenir de la Tolérance," Vincent's "Protestantisme en France," Puaux's "Histoire de la Réformation Française," and many other works recently published-another token of a renewed attention bestowed upon the history of French Protestantism, and a sign of times when the French Protestants once more take an interest in reproducing and revivifying their earlier as well as their later history, with the object, as avowed by the pastor Otho Cuvier, "to strengthen faith and to augment and enlarge the Church to which God has given them the grace to be attached."