At Nismes, under the escort of five armed soldiers, because of the known violence of the desperadoes whom she visited, she inspected the Maison Centrale, containing about 1,200 prisoners. She interceded for some of them that they might be released from their fetters, undertaking at the same time that the released prisoners should behave well. At a subsequent visit, after holding a religious service among these felons, the same men thanked her with tears of gratitude. Much to her delight, she discovered a body of religionists who held principles similar to those of the Society of Friends. They were descendants of the Camisards, a sect of Protestants who took refuge in the mountains of the Cevennes during the persecution which followed the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and were descended originally from the Albigenses. Their three most distinguished pastors were Claude Brousson, who took part in the sufferings at the general persecution of the Protestants; Jean Cavalier, the soldier-pastor who led his flock to battle, and who now sleeps in an English graveyard; and Antoine Court, who formed this "church in the desert," into a more compact body. The first of these pastors was hanged for "heresy" at Montpellier, in 1698; but he, together with his successors, labored so devoutly and so ardently, that the persecuted remnant rose from the dust and proved themselves valiant for the truth as they had received and believed it. It was not possible that the seed of a people which had learnt the sermons preached to them off by heart, and written the texts on stone tablets, in order to pass them from one mountain village to another, could ever die out. The descendants of those martyrs had come down through long generations, to nourish at last openly in Nismes. Mrs. Fry recognized in them the kindred souls of faithful believers. After this, the party spent a fortnight at a little retired village called Congenies, where they welcomed many others of their own creed. A house with "vaulted rooms, whitewashed and floored with stone," sheltered them during this quaint sojourn, while the villagers vied with each other in contributing to their comforts. At Toulon they visited the "Bagnes," or prison for the galley slaves. These poor wretches fared horribly, while the loss of life among them was terrible. They worked very hard, slept on boards, and were fed upon bread and dry beans. At night they were ranged in a long gallery, and in number from one hundred to two hundred, were all chained to the iron rod which ran the entire length of the gallery. By day they worked chained together in couples.