Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars — John Shaqi
Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot WarsHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
France -- History -- Wars of the Huguenots, 1562-1598 -- Fiction
"I thought you could fence," Francois said. "You would hardly have
that figure and carriage, unless you had practised with the sword.
And you dance, I suppose. Many of our religion regard such
amusement as frivolous, if not sinful; but my mother, although as
staunch a Huguenot as breathes, insists upon my learning it, not as
an amusement but as an exercise. There was no reason, she said, why
the Catholics should monopolize all the graces."
"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 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, Philip, that we shall be good comrades. There are many
among us younger Huguenots who, though as staunch in the religion
as our fathers, and as ready to fight and die for it if need be,
yet do not 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 have revolted against the authority of
the Pope and the abuses of the church, we should go through life as
if we were attending a perpetual funeral. Unless I am mistaken,
such is your disposition also; for although your face is grave,
your eyes laugh."
"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 'Merry England.' I think we
are an earnest people, but not a grave one. English boys play with
all their might. 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 humour, and it is rare, indeed, for
anyone to lose his temper, however rough the play and hard the
knocks. Then they are fond of dancing and singing, save among the
strictest sects; 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, especially that you
yourself are not grave. Now, as we have finished our meal, let us
visit the stables. I have a horse already set aside for you; but I
saw, as we rode hither, 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 arrows no more spare a
horse than his rider."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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