The massacre of St. Bartholomew : $b Preceded by a history of the religious wars in the reign of Charles IXWhite, Henry
History
The massacre of St. Bartholomew : $b Preceded by a history of the religious wars in the reign of Charles IX
White, Henry
France -- History -- Wars of the Huguenots, 1562-1598; Saint Bartholomew's Day, Massacre of, France, 1572
Montluc complacently adds, “And this was the first execution
I ordered after starting from home, without trial or sentence, for I
have heard say that in these matters you should hang first.... It shut
the mouths of many seditious people.” He avenged M. Fumel’s murder by
hanging or breaking on the wheel in one day between thirty and forty
persons, innocent as well as guilty. The hot-headed Huguenots of the
south retaliated at Cahors by hanging as many Catholics as they could
catch, fourteen or fifteen in number, who had assisted Montluc in his
atrocities. At Gironde he made a capture of some eighty Huguenots, of
whom he hanged seventy to the pillars of the market-house “sans autre
cérémonie.” Describing his doings at the village of Feugaroles, he
says: “We were so few that we were not able to kill all: the bandoliers
shot them down like game.” In one of his expeditions he fell in with
the Queen of Navarre, who received him very badly, and to his great
surprise “called him a tyrant,” and otherwise reproached him. His
ferocity he considered a virtue, and justified his cruelty as necessary
to get the better of his enemies. “God,” he adds, “must be very
merciful to us, considering the evils we commit.”[337] He was thankful
not without reason, for at the end of the war he was richer by 100,000
crowns.
Still more ferocious, and, if possible, with still fewer redeeming
qualities, was François de Beaumont, baron des Adrets, whose name is
still used in the south to scare naughty children. Ostensibly he was
a Protestant, but in reality a mere agent of the queen-mother against
the Lorraine party.[338] He would sometimes amuse himself by making
his prisoners leap from the top of a tower, or from a high window, on
the pikes of his soldiers stationed below. On one occasion--it was
at Montbrison, in August, 1562--a prisoner hesitated, upon which Des
Adrets reproached him with cowardice. The other retorted: “I dare
you to do it in ten times,” which caused his life to be spared. The
slaughter in that little town was fearful: more than eight hundred
men, women, and children were murdered; the streets were strewn with
corpses, and “the gutters looked as if it had rained blood,” says a
contemporary. At another time, though this belongs to a different
period of his history--the baron marched to besiege Valence, where
(as we shall see presently) the Reformed had revolted and seized upon
the Grey Friars’ Church. In defiance of his threats, they publicly
celebrated the Lord’s Supper in the appropriated church, as many as
5000 partaking of the sacrament. They afterward came to terms with
him, agreeing to open their gates and restore the church; but Des
Adrets had no sooner entered than he seized a number of Protestants
and sentenced them to lose their heads. They were taken to punishment
with their mouths gagged; and after being dismembered, their limbs were
fastened to the doors of the church they had profaned.[339] Strange to
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