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Charlotte Arbaleste Duplessis-Mornay, Anne de Chaufepié, and Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer
The Huguenot Experience of Persecution and Exile: Three Women’s Stories E D I TE D BY Colette H. Winn TR A NS L ATE D BY Lauren King
and Colette H. Winn
The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 68
THE HUGUENOT EXPERIENCE OF PERSECUTION AND EXILE
The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 68
MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE TEXTS AND STUDIES VOLUME 560
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Se r ie S edi to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se r ie S edi to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman
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Se r ie S edi to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se r ie S edi to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman
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Margaret Fell Women’s Speaking Justified and Other Pamphlets Edited by Jane Donawerth and Rebecca M. Lush Volume 65, 2018 Mary Wroth, Jane Cavendish, and Elizabeth Brackley Women’s Household Drama: Loves Victorie, A Pastorall, and The concealed Fansyes Edited by Marta Straznicky and Sara Mueller Volume 66, 2018 Eleonora Fonseca Pimentel From Arcadia to Revolution: The Neapolitan Monitor and Other Writings Edited and translated by Verina R. Jones Volume 67, 2019
CHARLOTTE ARBALESTE DUPLESSIS-MORNAY, ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ, AND ANNE MARGUERITE PETIT DU NOYER
The Huguenot Experience of Persecution and Exile: Three Women’s Stories •
Edited by COLETTE H. WINN Translated by LAUREN KING AND COLETTE H. WINN
Iter Press Toronto, Ontario Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies Tempe, Arizona 2019
Iter Press Tel: 416/978–7074
Email: [email protected]
Fax: 416/978–1668
Web: www.itergateway.org
Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies Tel: 480/965–5900
Email: [email protected]
Fax: 480/965–1681
Web: acmrs.org
© 2019 Iter, Inc. and the Arizona Board of Regents for Arizona State University. All rights reserved. Printed in Canada. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Winn, Colette H., editor, translator. | King, Lauren, 1992- translator. Title: Charlotte Arbaleste Duplessis-Mornay, Anne de Chaufepié, and Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer : the Huguenot experience of persecution and exile : three women’s stories / edited by Colette H. Winn ; translated by Lauren King and Colette H. Winn. Description: Toronto, Ontario : Iter Press ; Tempe, Arizona : Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2019. | Series: The other voice in early modern Europe. The Toronto series ; volume 68 | Series: Medieval and Renaissance texts and studies ; volume 560 | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2019011696 (print) | LCCN 2019015931 (ebook) | ISBN 9780866987530 (ebook) | ISBN 9780866986182 (pbk. : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Duplessis-Mornay, Charlotte, 1548–1606. | Chaufepié, Anne de, 1640– 1730. | Du Noyer, Madame (Anne Marguerite Petit), 1663–1719. | Huguenots--Persecutions. | Reformation--France--Biography. Classification: LCC DC112.A1 (ebook) | LCC DC112.A1 C47 2019 (print) | DDC 272/.409252--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019011696 Cover illustration: Benoist, Élie. Histoire de l’Édit de Nantes : Contenant les choses les plus remarquables qui se sont passées en France avant et après sa publication. Frontispiece, vol. 1. Delft: Beman, 1693. Courtesy of the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto. Cover design: Maureen Morin, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries. Typesetting and production: Iter Press.
Contents Acknowledgments
xiii
Introduction The Other Voice Charlotte Arbaleste Duplessis-Mornay (1548–1606) Anne de Chaufepié (February 20, 1640–?) Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer (1663–1719) A Brief History of the Huguenots Calvinist Theology and Human History Tales of Survival Women Crossing Borders Families in Crisis Women’s Friendship and Solidarity Note on the Translation
1 1 3 7 10 14 18 23 24 28 32 38
Madame de Mornay, Memoirs (1584–1606) Part One: The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre Part Two: The Death of Her Son Philippe
43 43 53
Anne de Chaufepié, Journal (1689)
59
Madame Du Noyer, Memoirs (1703–1710)
81
Appendices Glossary of Places Table of Currencies and Values Chronology Testimonial Literature by Huguenot Women
105 111 113 123
Bibliography
127
Index
139
Acknowledgments Special thanks go to Jane Couchman for her invaluable commentary on an earlier version of this project, to the readers for Iter Press for their useful counsels, and to Margaret L. King for her helpful feedback, her generous and meticulous editing, and her continued support. Finally, I wish to extend my deep appreciation to Project Manager Margaret English-Haskin for the special care she took in the production of this book.
xiii
Introduction The Other Voice [Monsieur de Voysenon] told [the soldiers] that in the past he had known me to be a good Catholic, but that he could not say whether or not I had remained that way. At that moment arrived an honorable woman who asked them what they wanted to do with me; they told her, “By God, she is a Huguenot who ought to be drowned.” Charlotte Arbaleste Duplessis-Mornay, Memoirs The judge was talking about the people who had been arrested and the sorts of disguises they had used. All of this terrified me. But my fear was far greater when both the priest and the judge turned to me and said, “Here is a little rascal who could easily be a Huguenot.” I was very upset to see myself addressed that way. However, I responded with as much firmness as I could, “I can assure you, sir, that I am as much a Catholic as I am a boy.” Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer, Memoirs
The cover of this book depicting Protestantism as a woman attacked on all sides reproduces the engraving that appears on the frontispiece of the first volume of Élie Benoist’s History of the Edict of Nantes.1 This illustration serves well Benoist’s purpose in writing his massive work, which was to protest both the injustice of revoking an “irrevocable” edict and the oppressive measures accompanying it. It also says much about the Huguenot experience in general, and the experience of Huguenot women in particular. When Benoist undertook the writing of his work, the association between Protestantism and women was not new. Sixteenth-century Catholic theologians attributed the success of Protestantism to a “feminization of society.” In their view, 1. Élie Benoist, Histoire de l’Édit de Nantes: Contenant les choses les plus remarquables qui se sont passées en France avant et après sa publication, 3 vols. in 5 (Delft: Beman, 1693–1695). On this important work, see Hubert Bost, “Élie Benoist et l’historiographie de l’Édit de Nantes,” in Coexister dans l’intolérance: L’Édit de Nantes, 1598, ed. Michel Grandjean and Bernard Roussel, Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 144 (Jan.–June 1998): 371–84, and Charles P. Johnston, “Élie Benoist, Historian of the Edict of Nantes,” American Society of Church History 55, no. 4 (1986): 468–88. Benoist was the Huguenot refugee minister of the Walloon Church in Delft (Netherlands); the Walloon churches were Calvinist churches founded by French-speakers from France or the southern Low Countries.
1
2 Introduction the Reformation was able to spread through the kingdom of France because men were showing signs of femininity. Drawing on the rich repertoire of misogynistic stereotypes, Catholic polemicists associated the Reformation with female attributes such as mutability, unreliability, foolishness, inability to follow rules, and immorality.2 They frequently referred to heretics as femmelettes, a word which at the time designated effeminate men whose conduct did not comply with socially acceptable standards of manhood. This derogatory term was meant to point at the heretics’ ignorance and gullibility and, at the same time, caution society against the blurring of gender roles and the overall chaos brought about by the Reformation. From the Catholic point of view, Protestantism was a source of divisiveness capable of upsetting the “natural” hierarchy between the sexes and turning “the world upside down.”3 Not only did it change men into femmelettes; it also allowed women to exert authority over men, which was considered contrary to both nature and the will of God. In the eyes of Catholic censors, the Reformation unduly gave women a more active part in the religious life of their communities and allowed them to meddle in spiritual matters when they were considered unfitted, both intellectually and morally, to understand theology.4 Where women needed to be restrained (they were commonly viewed as lustful and prone to disorders such as hysteria), Protestantism gave them more freedom. Claude Haton, a priest from Provins, argued that, due to their inherent weakness, women were the first to be seduced by the new faith. In his account of the Reformation from 1553 to 1582,5 he claimed that debauchery was the means by which Reformed men tried to win over converts to the new faith, that they willingly abandoned their wives and daughters to ecclesiastics who abjured Catholicism. He viewed Huguenot women as morally corrupt and Protestantism as a possible source of women’s perversion. A case in point: princesses and noblewomen who escaped the surveillance of their husbands to attend mixed-gender 2. The popularity of Protestantism was viewed as a woman’s whim. See Luc Racaut, Hatred in Print: Catholic Propaganda and Protestant Identity during the French Wars of Religion (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2002), 90. 3. On the topos of the world turned upside down and its use in religious polemic, see Racaut, Hatred in Print, 81–98. 4. Protestant women generally received a better education than their Catholic counterparts in order to read the bible, run their households, and share with their husbands the responsibility of rearing the children. In the early days of the Reformation movement some could be seen holding meetings, christening children, and even preaching. However, from 1560 onwards, women were no longer allowed to play such roles in church life, and men were generally given preference over women in positions of authority. 5. Claude Haton, Mémoires de Claude Haton, contenant le récit des événements accomplis de 1553 à 1582, principalement dans la Champagne et la Brie, ed. Félix Bourquelot, 2 vols. (Paris: Librairie impériale, 1857), 1:126–27. This edition by Bourquelot is the first of Haton’s important contemporary account.
Introduction 3 clandestine meetings during which they changed from good and honest women to whores and sluts.6 In a culture in which women were continually associated with sin and deemed inferior to men, and Huguenots were perceived as dangerous agitators and heretics, Huguenot women were in effect doubly marginalized. Judged by the gender and partisan ideologies7 that prevailed at the time, they were ostracized both as women and as Huguenots. From the point of view of the Huguenots themselves, women’s conversion to and persistence in the Reformed faith was a sign of their strength rather than their weakness. The present collection includes texts written by three Huguenot women, describing their valiant struggles to escape persecution and death during different stages of the Reform in France. Charlotte Arbaleste Duplessis-Mornay writes of her escape from Paris at the time of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in August 1572; Anne de Chaufepié and Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer recount their own experiences and those of many women whom they encountered as they risked escape from France in the years following the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes on October 22, 1685.
Charlotte Arbaleste Duplessis-Mornay (1548–1606) Charlotte Arbaleste was born on February 1, 1548, to Gui II Arbaleste (ca. 1518– 1570), lord of Corbeil and de la Borde, viscount of Melun (1552), and president of the Chamber of Accounts of Paris (1555), and to Madeleine Chevalier, lady of Esprunes et Vignaux. In early youth, Charlotte embraced the Calvinistic faith, but her parents had fallen on different sides of the spiritual divide. For a while her father vacillated between Catholicism and the Reformed religion, but in 1569, he definitively embraced the new faith. Her mother remained Catholic until her death, and had her three sons convert to Catholicism when the religious conflict became more violent. Charlotte, as noted in the first part of her story translated here resisted her mother’s pressure and fulfilled her spiritual obligations. In 1567, she married a Huguenot, the younger son of the marquis of Feuqu(i)ères, known as Jean “Fringallet” de Pas (ca. 1510–1569), lord of Martinsart, commander of a company of light cavalry and governor of Roye in Picardy. He took part in the Amboise Conspiracy of 1560 and died at La Charité on May 23, 1569, by a musket 6. Mémoires de Claude Haton, 1:48–50. 7. On early modern attitudes toward women, see Ian Maclean, The Renaissance Notion of Woman: A Study in the Fortunes of Scholasticism and Medical Science in European Intellectual Life (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980), and Margaret R. Sommerville, Sex and Subjection: Attitudes to Women in Early Modern Society (London: E. Arnold, 1995); on male views of Protestant women, see Merry E. Wiesner, Women and Gender in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1993), 186–95.
4 Introduction shot to the chest while fighting alongside the Huguenot leader, the Admiral Gaspard de Coligny.8 Charlotte had a daughter with him, Suzanne de Pas de Feuqu(i)ères, who was born in Sedan on December 29, 1568, without ever seeing her father. At nineteen, Charlotte was left a widow. While in Sedan, Charlotte was introduced to Philippe de Mornay (1549– 1623), lord of Plessis-Marly, and governor of Saumur.9 Anne and Philippe had much in common: they both had grown up in religiously divided families; they both were in Paris at the time of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre and narrowly escaped death; they had strong religious convictions and a common interest in science. In 1575, Philippe proposed to Charlotte. From the outset, she had seen their “intellectual idyll” as “the sign of a spiritual election.”10 She bragged that Philippe chose her above wealthier noblewomen from Sedan, although she did not have a dowry. Charlotte and Philippe were married on January 3, 1576, after Philippe returned from a campaign in the Netherlands. Out of the eight children they had together, only four survived: Marthe, born on December 17, 1576; Elisabeth, born June 1, 1578 during Duplessis-Mornay’s embassy at the court of England and named after Queen Elizabeth; Philippe, born in Antwerp on July 20, 1579; and Anne, born in 1583. Charlotte and Philippe’s union appears to have been the egalitarian marriage that was championed among Calvinist elites.11 Philippe made Charlotte mistress of their estate and gave her the legal rights to have full control of the household 8. Gaspard II de Coligny (1519–1572), marshal, then admiral, most prominent military and political leader of the Huguenot party, one of the first of countless victims of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. As Admiral of France, Coligny authorized several expeditions to establish colonies abroad in which Huguenots could find a refuge. 9. Duplessis-Mornay is known for his political and military activities, as well as his diplomatic skills. He was entrusted with several important missions: he made a name for himself in 1578–1582, when charged by Coligny with a confidential assignment to assist William of Orange, and again in 1584, when, at the death of François d’Anjou, he led an action for a legitimate accession of the king of Navarre to the throne of France. But upon Henri’s ascension to the throne as Henri IV in 1589 and his subsequent attempt to rally the principal Catholic lords, Duplessis-Mornay, who had been at his right hand since 1576, was progressively removed from royal initiatives. Duplessis also distinguished himself as a warrior in the decisive battles between the Huguenots and the League’s armies, and in particular at the Battle of Coutras, on October 20, 1587. See Eugène Haag and Émile Haag, La France protestante, ou vies des protestants français qui se sont fait un nom, 10 vols. (Paris: J.-B. Gros; Geneva: Joël Cherbuliez, 1846–1859), 7:512–42. 10. The expressions are from Évelyne Berriot-Salvadore, Les femmes dans la société française de la Renaissance (Geneva: Droz, 1990), 127. On Mornay, see 123–33. 11. Recent studies have questioned the positive effect of Calvinist doctrines on marriage. For different perspectives on this matter, see Amanda Eurich, “Women in the Huguenot Communities,” in A Companion to the Huguenots, ed. Raymond A. Mentzer and Bertrand Van Ruymbeke (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 118–49.
Introduction 5 during his frequent absences. The religious wars, however, brought Charlotte unique challenges in her task of caring for the estate and the growing family. Most of the time, she was left to cope alone with her delicate health, her miscarriages, and the births and deaths of their children.12 During his political career, Philippe was sent on numerous diplomatic missions in France but also in England and in the Low Countries. In order to lend support to her husband’s career, Charlotte accompanied him as often as she could and sometimes joined him later, even if this meant undertaking long and perilous trips with their young children. She was privy to Philippe’s professional affairs because many political meetings took place at their home and she had access to her husband’s correspondence and secret papers. When she stayed home, Philippe relied heavily on her assistance. She would exchange coded letters with him on matters of utmost importance, and smuggle clandestine messages to key figures of the Huguenot party. It was she who saw to the publication of her husband’s writings. The death on the battlefield of their beloved son, Philippe, deeply affected Philippe and Charlotte. When they first learned of the tragic news, their pain was so profound that they could not even speak to each other. Their strong religious convictions helped them find solace and accept this trial as God’s will, but Charlotte never completely recovered from the shock caused by this bereavement. On May 23, 1606, approximately six months after the loss of her son, Charlotte died, unable to surmount her grief.13 Charlotte Duplessis-Mornay was a prolific letter writer, but today she is best known as the author of her Memoirs about her husband. We know of three extant manuscripts of the Memoirs. The first, generally considered to be the most complete and reliable, has handwritten notations in the margins identified as Charlotte’s own.14 The second, found recently at the library of the Musée
12. See Mémoires de Madame de Mornay, suivies des lettres inédites, ed. Henriette de Witt, 2 vols. (Paris: Veuve de J. Renouard [Société de l’histoire de la France], 1868–1869), 1:140 (for the birth of Anne). Unable to arrive in time at Charlotte’s bedside for the birth of their first daughter Marthe, Philippe sensed the exact moment at which Charlotte delivered the baby (1:111–12), a fact indicative, in her eyes, of their symbiotic relationship. 13. The doctors who examined her attributed her death to constitutional and other maladies with which she had been struggling all her life and which were aggravated by grief: “the melancholic humor spreading in the intestines eroded the colon causing the insupportable colic that tormented her.” See Patricia Phillippy, Women, Death, and Literature in Post-Reformation England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 163–65. 14. Paris, Bibliothèque de l’Université de la Sorbonne: Manuscrit no. 360, containing the Mémoires de dame Charlote Arbaleste du Plessis and including also the Discours sur la mort de dame Charlotte Arbaleste and two Sonnets de Monsieur du Plessis.
6 Introduction de Chantilly, is a replica copy of the first.15 The third is written in the hand of Elisabeth de Fontenay, Charlotte’s daughter.16 Charlotte’s Memoirs, which was written over the years 1584 to 1606, did not appear in print until 1624.17 A modern edition appeared in 1824–1825, and like that of 1624, it includes the Memoirs as well as the correspondence of DuplessisMornay and many scattered papers.18 Another edition appeared in 1868–1869, containing seventy-nine previously unpublished letters including many letters from Philippe to Charlotte, among them letters from their son, and other works.19 In 2010, Nadine Kuperty-Tsur published a new edition, in the introduction to which she examines the historical content of the Memoirs, providing an overview of Duplessis-Mornay’s political, diplomatic, and military career during the critical years of the Wars of Religion, and sheds light on the originality of this femaleauthored memoir.20 Composition of works such as Mornay’s Memoirs—half historical, half autobiographical—gained increasing popularity in the seventeenth century, becoming a particularly female phenomenon and a major literary genre.21
15. Bibliothèque du Musée de Condé au Château de Chantilly: Manuscrit no. 907: Memoires de Charlotte Arbaleste, dame du Plessis-Mornay. The existence of this manuscript was made known by Nadine Kuperty-Tsur in her 2010 edition of the Memoirs: Les Mémoires de Madame de Mornay (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2010), 14. 16. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France: Manuscrit 10629 and Supplément français 5602: Memoires de Charlotte Arbaleste. 17. Memoires de messire Philippes de Mornay, seigneur du Plessis Marli, … contenans divers discours, instructions, lettres et dépesches par lui dressées ou escrites aux rois, roines …, compiled by David de Liques and Valentin Conrart, ed. Jean Daillé ([La Forest, Belgium]: Iean Bureau, 1624–1625). It is currently available on Gallica and preserved in Paris at the Bibliothèque nationale de France: RES4-LA23-3(1). 18. Mémoires et correspondance de Duplessis-Mornay, pour servir à l’histoire de la Réformation et des guerres civiles et religieuses en France, ed. Pierre René Auguis and Armand-Désiré La Fontenelle de Vaudoré, 12 vols. (Paris: Treuttel et Würtz, 1824–1825). This edition is based on Manuscrit 10629 and Supplément français 5602. 19. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt. The other works include a first-person account of the quarrel between Charlotte and the Consistory of Montauban concerning her headdress, the Discours sur la mort de dame Charlotte Arbaleste, and two Sonnets de Monsieur du Plessis. Witt’s edition was based upon the Sorbonne manuscript. In addition, she used the Chantilly manuscript, as Nadine Kuperty-Tsur reports (see above, note 15). While preparing her own edition of the Memoirs, Kuperty-Tsur came across the Chantilly manuscript which contained paper marks and notes handwritten by Madame Witt. The reason why Witt does not mention this manuscript remains unknown. 20. Mémoires, ed. Kuperty-Tsur. This edition is also based on the Sorbonne manuscript. 21. On the various ways in which late sixteenth-century and seventeenth-century female authors reconfigure the genre of history, see Faith E. Beasley, Revising Memory: Women’s Fiction and Memoirs in Seventeenth-Century France (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1990); Susan Broomhall and Colette H. Winn, “La représentation de soi dans les mémoires féminins du début de l’ époque moderne,” in Masques et figures du sujet féminin aux XVIe et XVIIe siècles, ed. Claude La Charité,
Introduction 7
Anne de Chaufepié (February 20, 1640–?) All that we know about Anne de Chaufepié is what we read in her writings and those of her brother Samuel, which survived in family archives. Her works, which are translated in this volume, include a one-and-one-half page account of her father’s and mother’s lives and deaths, dated July 12, 1684, as well as a brief autobiographical piece, referred to as her Journal, written in 1689 in Balk, Friesland, after she had been expelled from France.22 Samuel’s writings include his Mémoires pour la famille des S[eigneu]rs de Chaufepié (Memoirs of the Family of the Lords de Chaufepié), and his Abrégé des principaux événemens de ma vie (A Summation of the Principal Events of My Life).23 The Chaufepiés came from a noble Italian family whose name changed when they moved to France in 1495: from the Italian Calfopedi, it became the French Caufapé and its numerous variants: Chauphapié, Chaufepied, and Chaufepié. Beginning with Jean de Chaufepié (1536–1580), who had adopted the Protestant faith against the will of his father, all the men in the family, from father to son, were Protestant pastors. Anne de Chaufepié was the eldest daughter of Second de Chaufepié (April 3, 1610–1684),24 pastor in Champdeniers and Saint-Christophe-sur-roc in the province of Poitou for some fifty years (1635–1684), and Claude de la Forest (1610–1662), whose father (Samuel de la Forest) was a pastor as well in Mauzé (Poitou).25 Married in 1637, the Chaufepiés had seven children, two of whom (Marie and Gédéon) died either at birth or in infancy. Among the other five, there were two sons, Samuel (1644–1704) and Second II (1645–1720), and three Tangence 77 (Winter 2005): 11–35; and Patricia Francis Cholakian, Women and the Politics of SelfRepresentation in Seventeenth-Century France (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2000). 22. Anne de Chaufepié’s Journal is preserved in the miscellaneous manuscript Lettres de pasteurs, journal d’Anne de Chaufepié, état civil, sermons, papiers de Gobinaud, etc., Paris, Bibliothèque du protestantisme français: Ms. 4681–2; and is published as Journal manuscrit d’Anne de Chaufepié à l’époque des dragonnades et du refuge, 1685–1688, Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 6 (1857): 57–68 and 256–68. 23. Both Samuel’s Mémoires pour la famille des S[eigneu]rs de Chaufepié and Abrégé des principaux événemens de ma vie are printed by Jacques-Henri de Dompierre de Chaufepié and N. W. in “Mémoires de la famille de Chaufepié,” Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 52, no. 3 (1903): 231–54, at 232–40 and 240–54 respectively. 24. Second, son of Jean de Chaufepié (1575–1637) and Marie Raymond de la Michelière, was the nephew and godchild of the famous author Agrippa d’Aubigné. Because he was the second son of Jean, Aubigné gave him the name Second, a name that appears in Acts 20:4. See Samuel de Chaufepié’s Mémoires, in Chaufepié and N. W., “Mémoires de la famille de Chaufepié,” 236, and Meaudre de Lapouyade, “Jehan de Chaufepié (1536–1580): Le testament religieux d’un pasteur du temps de la Réforme,” Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 84, no. 4 (1935): 511. 25. See Lapouyade, “Jehan de Chaufepié,” 511.
8 Introduction daughters, Anne, Catherine, and Marie-Claude,26 respectively born in 1640, 1642, and 1657. In November 1685, following the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, Anne’s brothers and her uncle M. de la Forest, her mother’s brother, all of whom were pastors, were forced to leave the country. They seemed to have traveled separately to the Netherlands where Huguenots sought asylum as persecution intensified. M. de la Forest and Second II, with Anne’s youngest sister Marie-Claude (who must have left with them or at about the same time), all settled in Amsterdam. On November 14, 1685, Samuel left La Rochelle27 with his young wife, Marie Marbœuf, who was pregnant at the time, and their fifteen-month-old daughter Suzanne, who died in early March 1686. On November 29, they arrived in Falmouth (England), and on January 9, 1686, they embarked on a British ship going to Rotterdam. On February 2, they landed in Rotterdam where they spent a few days. On February 7, Samuel and his wife and child finally reached Amsterdam where they joined up with the rest of the family.28 In June of that year, the two brothers went to Balk, where they each assumed positions as pastors. Later on, they requested to be transferred to Leuvarde, the capital of Friesland, which, they thought, would offer their children better educational opportunities. In 1681, François-Michel le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois and Minister of War, had revived the old custom of lodging troops at the expenses of communes and well-to-do homes, and proposed to the king that those who would abjure Protestantism be exempt for two years from such a practice. In that year, a first
26. In Samuel de Chaufepié’s Abrégé (Summation), in Chaufepié and N. W., “Mémoires de la famille de Chaufepié,” 250–52, Anne is referred to as “ma sœur de Villeneuve,” Marie-Claude as “ma sœur des Aubiers,” and Catherine as “ma sœur de la Croix.” 27. Many of the events recounted here occurred in La Rochelle and surrounding areas. The heavily Protestant city of La Rochelle had become the capital of Protestantism, and remained the stronghold of Huguenot resistance once peace was re-established in 1598. In the first part of the seventeenth century, La Rochelle continued to defy royal authority (as in the rebellions of 1621–1622, the so-called Rohan wars), but in 1627–1628, after a siege of fourteen months, the city was forced to surrender. While Huguenots retained the religious freedom granted by the Edict of Nantes, they lost territorial, political and military rights, and were left at the mercy of the monarchy. On the fall of La Rochelle, see David Parker, La Rochelle and the French Monarchy: Conflict and Order in Seventeenth-Century France (London: Royal Historical Society, 1980), 6–17. 28. Samuel recounts in great detail his escape from France in his Sortie de France (Exit from France), dated December 23, 1686, published by Jacques-Henri de Dompierre de Chaufepié and N. W. in “La sortie de France du pasteur Samuel de Chaufepié,” Bulletin de la commission de l’histoire des églises wallonnes 3 (1885): 75–79.
Introduction 9 raid, or dragonnade,29 took place in Poitou at the order of its Intendant,30 René de Marillac. Many of the Huguenots from Poitou fled to England and Holland.31 In the years 1681 to 1688, the king sent dragonnades throughout France, teams of “missionary dragoons” or “mounted soldiers” tasked to intimidate Huguenots into converting to the Catholic faith. Around this time, Anne had gone with her sister Catherine to the home of their two aunts, the Mesdemoiselles de la Forest, in the parish of Mauzé, a place of refuge where Reformed worship was maintained until the Revocation. But at the arrival of the dragoons, Anne and her sister were forced to flee and seek refuge at a castle nearby. The Château d’Olbreuse, property of the brother of Éléonore Marie Desmier d’Olbreuse (1639–1722), duchess of Zell, offered Huguenots who were fleeing persecution in Poitou and Saintonge a safe place where they could hide temporarily before escaping across frontiers or overseas. It was most likely there that Anne met Jean Migault, a Huguenot teacher from Mougon, who also recorded the persecutions that his family suffered.32 Shortly after their arrival at the castle, Anne and her sister had to leave again. Catherine, who seemed to have found another hiding place, remained in the Huguenot stronghold of La Rochelle until an opportunity came about for her to leave the country safely. When such an opportunity presented itself, she fled and, in March 1687, joined her family in Balk, where her brothers lived at the time. As for Anne, she attempted to leave France the year before with her two aunts and her friends, the Mesdemoiselles de Boisragon, Saint-Laurent, and Saumaise. However, things went wrong: Anne was caught on April 23, 1686, and put in prison in the citadel of Ré [on the Île de Ré, off La Rochelle], where she remained for over a year. In May 1687, she was transferred to the Ursuline convent in Niort, and about two months later, taken to a filthy prison in Poitiers where she
29. On the dragonnades, see Marianne Carbonnier-Burkard and Patrick Cabanel, Une histoire des Protestants en France: XVIe–XXe siècle (Paris: Desclée de Brouwer, 1998), and Auguste-François Lièvre, Les martyrs poitevins, 2nd ed. (Toulouse: Société des publications morales et religieuses, 1910), 111 and 176–99. 30. intendant: the principal agent of the monarchy in the provinces; see Parker, La Rochelle and the French Monarchy, 208. 31. Holland, a province of the Dutch Republic, a state existing between 1581 and 1795 and the forerunner of the modern nation of the Netherlands, was a refuge for the persecuted Protestants of Europe during the religious wars of the sixteenth century. At the time of the Revocation, it became with England the principal asylum of exiled Huguenots. An estimated 35,000 French émigrés from all parts of France, from all ranks and conditions, eventually settled in the Dutch Republic. See David van der Linden, Experiencing Exile: Huguenot Refugees in the Dutch Republic, 1680–1700 (Farnham, Surrey, UK: Ashgate, 2015). 32. Journal de Jean Migault, ou malheurs d’une famille protestante du Poitou, 1682–1689, ed. Yves Krumenacker (Paris: Éditions de Paris, 1995).
10 Introduction remained five days, then to the Conciergerie33 of Chartres for an additional two weeks. Finally, she was locked up in the Abbey of Arsisse where she was strongly encouraged to convert to Catholicism, but she resisted the pressures to which she was subjected. In May 1688, she was taken to Caen, and from there put on a ship going to Rotterdam, where she arrived on June 3, 1688. In late September, 1688, Anne was finally reunited with her brothers and sisters in Balk. She was granted the honorary title of confesseuse in recognition for her steadfastness in the face of adversity34 and later joined the Société des demoiselles françaises in The Hague.35 Besides the piece on her parents, the only document with Anne de Chaufepié’s signature is her Journal of the years 1685 to 1688, a manuscript roughly twenty-six pages long written in the thin and distinct hand of one of the author’s nieces, and printed for the first time in 1857.36 It is translated in this volume.
Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer (1663–1719) Anne Marguerite, Catherine Petit was born in Nîmes on June 12, 1663, to a Protestant bourgeois family.37 Jacques Petit (1615–1672) and Catherine Cotton married in 1661 and had a boy who died in infancy. In 1664, when Catherine died, Anne Marguerite was barely one year old. Marguerite Cotton Saporta (1613?–1696), her maternal aunt and godmother, adopted her and raised her as her own child. Since the Saportas had no children of their own, they made Anne Marguerite their heiress. Monsieur Saporta (d. 1717) had acquired a large fortune selling real estate, but on a gambling night, he lost most of his wealth and later went to jail for failure to pay his taxes. From an early age, Anne Marguerite was found to be “unusually articulate and self-assured.”38 Madame Saporta was proud of Anne Marguerite’s intellectual precociousness and made sure that she received the best education possible, a fact that Du Noyer willingly acknowledges in her memoir: “[Madame Saporta], who was fit to raise a queen, adopted me at my 33. conciergerie: a place of detention or the place where prisoners are held while awaiting trial. 34. On this practice see David C. A. Agnew, Protestant Exiles from France, Chiefly in the Reign of Louis XIV, 3rd ed., vol. 2: Refugees Naturalized in and after 1681 ([Edinburgh: Turnbull and Spears], 1886), 32. 35. An asylum for noble French widows and demoiselles without family or without resources. On a similar association in Harlem, see D. Allegret, “La Société des dames françaises de Harlem,” Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 27 (1878): 315–22, 518–24, and 557–63. 36. The Journal manuscrit, cited above at note 22. 37. For more on the life of Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer see Mémoires de Madame Dunoyer, ed. Henriette Goldwyn (Paris: Mercure de France, 2005), 7–24; also Alain Nabarra, “Anne Marguerite Petit Dunoyer (1663–1719),” ; and Régine Reynolds-Cornell, Fiction and Reality in the “Mémoires” of the Notorious Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer (Tübingen: Gunter Narr Verlag, 1999). 38. Reynolds-Cornell, Fiction and Reality, 14.
Introduction 11 mother’s death and took care of my education, and I must admit, to my shame, that it was up to me to turn out well. I was so well taught that with a little memory and my quick mind I said things that were far beyond my age and soon acquired the reputation of a prodigy.”39 As an adult, Anne Marguerite was never thought to be attractive, for she was unusually short and she became stouter and stouter as years went by, but she was generally admired for her intelligence and wit. When persecution began in Nîmes, Anne Marguerite and her adoptive mother prepared to flee to Switzerland, but in Lyon they had to separate. Anne Marguerite went on by herself to Geneva and from there to The Hague, where one of her paternal uncles, Pierre Petit, and his family had emigrated. Her maternal uncle Gaspard Cotton, a wealthy Huguenot who lived in Paris, attempted to find her a position as lady-in-waiting in The Hague, but things did not work out and Anne Marguerite had to return to Paris. After several unsuccessful attempts to reach freedom in Geneva, Madame Saporta had joined her brother in Paris and the two of them were forced to abjure their Protestant faith. Upon her return to France on December 22, 1686, Anne Marguerite was pressed to do the same. Instead, she convinced Madame Saporta to flee with her to England, but they were caught in Dieppe. Anne Marguerite was imprisoned in the New Converts in Paris,40 and then in L’Union Chrétienne, a convent on rue Saint-Denis, and did not come out until she married. After a brief and unsuccessful romance with the young navy officer Abraham-Louis Duquesne, she abjured her faith (although she claimed that she had never been a genuine convert) in order to marry, on May 8, 1688, the Catholic Guillaume Du Noyer (d. 1716), first captain of the Toulouse regiment and author of his own memoirs. This union was quite advantageous for Du Noyer: not only did he receive a royal pension of 600 livres as compensation for the conversion of a Huguenot, but Anne Marguerite’s fortune was also considerable as she was the sole heiress of the wealthy Monsieur Cotton. The family moved on a number of occasions: from Nîmes to Villeneuve-les-Avignon; then to Nîmes again (where, in December 1691, Du Noyer was appointed first consul of the city); then to Paris upon his being appointed deputy of the Province of the Court; and, in late 1695, to Toulouse after he bought the prestigious office of grand master of waters and forests in Upper and Lower Languedoc for 90,000 livres. The Du Noyers had four 39. Du Noyer, Mémoires (Amsterdam: Par la compagnie, 1760), 28; translation by Reynolds-Cornell, Fiction and Reality, 14. 40. The Nouvelles-Converties, rue de Seine-Saint-Victor in Paris. This was the name given to Huguenots who, at the time of the Revocation, remained in France and abjured. They were compelled to observe Catholic religious practices, go to mass, have their children baptized, receive the last Sacraments at the time of death. Many new converts continued to practice the Reformed faith in the family, in private meetings or in clandestine assemblies. When they were caught, they were sent to prisons and galleys. See Joseph Bergin, The Politics of Religion in Early Modern France (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2014), 262–67.
12 Introduction children, three daughters and a son: Anne Marguerite, also known as Poupette (born on March 17, 1689); Marie (June 27, 1690) who died in infancy; Catherine Olympe, nicknamed Pimpette (March 2, 1692); and Guillaume (1694/95– 1704/05). From his childhood, Guillaume, whose godfather was Père La Chaise,41 was destined for a career in the Catholic Church. The marriage was happy at first; however, in 1698 when the family moved to Paris upon Du Noyer’s appointment to deputy of the Estates-General things began to change. Monsieur Du Noyer started to spend excessively on mistresses and gambling. Furthermore, he placed their two daughters in convents to make good Catholics out of them, much to Anne Marguerite’s displeasure, as she had promised to Madame Saporta on her deathbed that she would marry her eldest daughter to a Protestant. In 1701, Anne Marguerite converted back to Calvinism and fled to Holland with her two daughters (twelve and nine years old at the time), leaving her husband and son behind. After a brief sojourn in London, she settled in Delft (Netherlands), then in The Hague. Anne Marguerite’s eccentricities and free spirit were greatly deprecated in the refuge,42 but nevertheless, this is where she claims to have found her own special calling in life: “The refuge made a writer out of me.”43 It is difficult to say what exactly led her to the village of Voorburg (Netherlands)— the hostility of the other refugees,44 perhaps, or material difficulties— but she ended up there and, thanks to her writing, she was finally able to earn a comfortable living for herself and her daughters. She began working for a fashionable bi-weekly newspaper, La Quintessence des Nouvelles (Essentials of the News), which had been founded by Jean Maximilien Lucas, another exile, and rapidly climbed the ranks. In 1710, she became editor-in-chief and held that position until her death in 1719.45 41. François d’Aix de La Chaise (1624–1709), commonly called Père La Chaise, Jesuit priest and King Louis XIV’s confessor for thirty-four years. The most illustrious necropolis in Paris, the Père La Chaise Cemetery, takes its name after him. See “La Chaise, François de.” In 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica, vol. 16. At Wikisource: . 42. refuge: in addition to the ordinary meaning of “refuge” (as in the statement “the Huguenots sought refuge in La Rochelle”), in this context “refuge” has the further meanings of an asylum, a place of refuge; the community of Huguenots in exile, as is the case here; and, sometimes capitalized as “Refuge,” the whole phenomenon of Huguenot exodus from France and resettlement abroad during the era of persecution. 43. Lettres historiques et galantes de deux dames de condition, 5 vols. (Cologne: Pierre Marteau, 1733), 5:414. Our translation. 44. Clearly, she did not expect such hostility from her fellow refugees: “I had expected to find hunger, thirst, the dangers of travel, but not those of traitors … I had thought that refugees would be of one heart and one soul.” Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 196. Our translation. 45. On Du Noyer’s journalistic activities, see Henriette Goldwyn, “Journalisme polémique à la fin du dix-septième siècle: Le cas de Mme Dunoyer,” in Femmes savantes, savoirs des femmes: Du crépuscule de
Introduction 13 Du Noyer won national and even international acclaim during her lifetime for her writing talents. From the time it passed into her hands, La Quintessence des Nouvelles became “one of the most important, most influential, and most widely read newspapers in the early eighteenth century.”46 Between 1703 and 1710, Du Noyer composed her Memoirs to combat the poisonous calumnies of the refugees, which she saw as a many-headed monster.47 In 1707 she tried her hand at yet another genre, a chronicle, which took the form of a fictitious correspondence between a lady from Paris and a lady from the south of France. Between 1707 and 1713, seven volumes of the work entitled Lettres historiques et galantes (Historical and Polite Letters) appeared, containing a total of 111 letters.48 Both the Historical Letters and the Memoirs were so successful that they underwent several reprints during the eighteenth century, the latter work sometimes included in the same volume as the former.49
la Renaissance à l’aube des Lumières: Actes du colloque de Chantilly, 22–24 septembre 1995, ed. Colette Nativel (Geneva: Droz, 1999), 247–56; and Alain Nabarra, “Mme Dunoyer et La Quintessence: La rencontre d’une journaliste et d’un journal,” in Femmes savantes et femmes d’esprit: Women Intellectuals of the French Eighteenth Century, ed. Roland G. Bonnel and Catherine Rubinger (New York: Peter Lang, 1994), 45–76. 46. Nabarra, “Anne Marguerite Petit Dunoyer.” 47. Mémoires de Madame Du Noyer écrits par elle-même, 5 vols. (Cologne: Pierre Marteau, 1710–1711). 48. Lettres historiques et galantes de deux dames de condition, dont l’une étoit à Paris, à l’autre en Provence, par Mme de C***, 7 vols. (Cologne [La Haye]: Pierre Marteau, 1707–1713). 49. The Mémoires were composed between 1703 and 1710. In the 1710–1711 Pierre Marteau edition of the Mémoires, the first two volumes, dated 1711, are from a second edition, revised and augmented, where the three last ones are from a 1710 first edition. During the eighteenth century, volumes 1 and 2 were reprinted on several occasions as part of the Lettres historiques et galantes. The 1757 edition of the Lettres is generally considered the standard edition: Lettres historiques et galantes par Mme C*** (London: Nourse et Vaillant). It has 9 parts in 8 volumes including the Mémoires de M. Des N. [Monsieur Du Noyer] in vol. 7 and the Mémoires de Mme Des N. écrits par elle-même [Madame Du Noyer] in vol. 8, part 1. A copy is preserved at the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris (FB-11793-11798) but access to it is very restricted. The Bibliothèque nationale de France also owns two reprints of the Lettres: The Hague: Pierre Husson, 1761, and Paris and Avignon: F. Séguier, 1790. Based on the Pierre Marteau edition of 1710–1711, the 2005 edition by Henriette Goldwyn gave a new life to Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer’s Mémoires. Although this is not a complete edition of the Mémoires, it takes into account all five volumes and is organized into chapters with summaries of what was eliminated for the benefit of the reader. On the relation between the Mémoires and the Lettres, see Isabelle Trivisani-Moreau, “Vers un usage public du privé: Mme Du Noyer entre ‘Lettres historiques et galantes’ et ‘Mémoires,’ ” in Dialogues intérieurs: Les écrits des mémorialistes dans leurs “Mémoires,” ed. Myriam Tsimbidy and Frédéric Charbonneau (Paris: Classiques Garnier, 2015), 137–50.
14 Introduction
A Brief History of the Huguenots The name “Huguenot” was given to the Calvinist Protestants of France after the Amboise Conspiracy of 1560.50 Today, the origin of the term remains a point of contention. Among the various theories regarding the meaning of the term, two generally prevail. Some claim that huguenots designated the Protestants from Tours who secretly assembled at night in a tower as if they were disciples of the malevolent King Huguet or Hugon’s spirit. Others maintain that the term was an alteration from the Swiss German Eidgenossen meaning “those bound together by oath,” which, in the years 1520–1524, referred to the Genevan partisans who opposed the duke of Savoy and whose leader was named Hugues de Besançon (d. 1532).51 Even before the term Huguenot came into use, there were Protestants in France. Protestantism made its appearance in France shortly after the Reformation began in Germany with Martin Luther’s publication in 1517 of his Ninety-Five Theses against indulgences.52 In 1521, the Sorbonne condemned Luther’s works as heretical and the king’s courts began to prosecute suspected heretics. In 1523, the Augustinian monk Jean Vallière, who would be known as the first French martyr, was burned at the stake in Paris for supporting Luther’s teachings. After the 1534 Affair of the Placards, when placards rejecting the Catholic interpretation of the mass were posted throughout Paris (including on the door of King François I’s bedroom), persecution rapidly increased. Repression, however, only drove the movement underground, where it continued to gain popularity. In the 1540s, John Calvin’s works, which were being clandestinely imported into France, began to find a receptive audience among artisans, merchants, and the French nobility,
50. One of the earliest uses of the term Huguenot among the Calvinist leadership in Geneva was by Calvin’s colleague Théodore de Bèze in a letter of June 16, 1561 to the Zurich reformer Heinrich Bullinger: see Janet G. Gray, “The Origin of the Word Huguenot,” The Sixteenth Century Journal 14, no. 3 (1983): 353. 51. For an enlightening study of the etymology and the usage of the term by sixteenth-century writers and theologians, see Gray, 349–59. 52. For the history of the Huguenots, see Barbara B. Diefendorf, “The Religious Wars in France,” in A Companion to the Reformation World, ed. R. Po-chia Hsia (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2004), 150–68, and “Wars of Religion,” in Encyclopedia of the Renaissance, ed. Paul. F. Grendler (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1999), 6:295–99; Geoffrey R. Treasure, The Huguenots (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013); and “Huguenot,” Encyclopedia Britannica . For a complete bibliography, see David van der Linden, “Huguenots,” Oxford Bibliographies, DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780195399301-0363. For resources online see Huguenots Online, advisor, Andrew Pettegree (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2008): .
Introduction 15 especially women.53 In 1546, the first Protestant community in French territory was founded in Meaux; in 1555, the first Protestant churches were established on the Genevan system with consistories overlooking local church affairs; and in 1559 the first national synod was summoned in Paris, with seventy-two congregations attending. Calvin had sent representatives to assist French churches in revising their previous confession of faith and drafting a common church discipline as he had proposed in his Institutes of the Christian Religion (4.12:1–13). By 1562, “more than a thousand congregations existed, with a membership totaling between 1.5 and 2 million people.”54 From 1559 onwards, France’s political and religious situation progressively worsened. After the accidental death of King Henri II, the crown was left in the hands of his three minor sons in succession and those of the Queen Mother Catherine de Médicis, whose principal preoccupation was maintaining her sons’ crown. Meanwhile, the Guises and the Bourbons, France’s most powerful families, were fighting over royal patronage. François, duke of Guise, and his brother Charles, cardinal of Lorraine, made themselves champions of the Catholic faith to oppose the Bourbons, Antoine de Bourbon, king of Navarre, and his younger brother Louis I, prince of Condé, who were the legal successors to the throne and ardent defenders of the Protestant cause. In March 1560, Huguenots attempted to kidnap the young King François II to release him from the Guise influence, but the so-called Conspiracy of Amboise failed and the prince of Condé was the only one to escape death. An edict issued by Catherine de Médicis allowed Huguenots to worship publicly outside city limits and privately within. Thus, on March 1, 1562, a group of Huguenots assembling for worship in a barn in the town of Vassy (Champagne) was massacred by François de Guise’s soldiers. Religious coexistence having failed, war could no longer be avoided. On April 12, 1562, Condé and other Huguenot leaders announced their resolution to take up arms for religious freedom and in the name of Protestant martyrs. This event is generally considered to have sparked a succession of civil wars known as the French Wars of Religion. For thirty-six years (from 1562 to 1598), France was ravaged by these wars with short-lived intermissions, split between those who remained faithful to the Catholic faith and those who had embraced the new faith and demanded the right to profess it publicly. The image that best describes France’s fratricidal 53. On women’s attraction to the Calvinist movement and their epistolary exchanges with Calvin, see Charmarie J. Blaisdell, “Calvin’s and Loyola’s Letters to Women: Politics and Spiritual Counsel in the Sixteenth Century,” in Calviniana: Ideas and Influence of Jean Calvin, ed. Robert V. Schnucker (Kirksville, MO: Sixteenth Century Journal Publishers, 1988), 235–53; and Nancy Lyman Roelker, “The Appeal of Calvinism to French Noblewomen in the Sixteenth Century,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 2 (1972): 391–418 and “The Role of Noblewomen in the French Reformation,” Archiv für Reformationsgeschichte 63 (1972): 168–95. 54. Diefendorf, “The Religious Wars in France,” 151.
16 Introduction tragedy can be found in Agrippa d’Aubigné’s verse epic Les tragiques: a mother torn to pieces by her two suckling babes unable to stop striking at each other.55 Several important related events marked the end of the sixteenth century. The first was the bloodbath on August 24–25, 1572, known as the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, when many of the Huguenot nobility, including Coligny (who were present in Paris, having attended the wedding on August 18 of Marguerite de Valois, Catherine’s daughter, and Henri de Navarre) were slain, along with, in the following days, thousands more Protestants throughout France.56 The second was the accession to the French throne of the Protestant Henri de Bourbon, king of Navarre (1589), as Henri IV, and his conversion to Catholicism (1594) in order to conquer his kingdom and overcome the resistance of the Holy League.57 The third was the promulgation of the Edict of Nantes (April 30, 1598) that put an end to the Wars of Religion by inaugurating religious coexistence. Protestants were granted religious freedom, limited rights to public worship, access to all trades, and military autonomy. Additionally, they were allowed to hold military garrisons for a period of three years. Peace, however, was short-lived. In the 1620s, civil wars resumed despite a certain climate of toleration toward Huguenots: Cardinal Richelieu, the chief royal minister, claimed that he had no intention to annul their rights to religious freedom as long as they remained obedient subjects, and the head of royal finances, Jean-Baptiste Colbert, highly valued their contributions to the French commerce and manufacturing. At the Peace of Alais on June 28, 1628, Huguenots lost their strongholds for the most part but retained religious freedom. King Louis XIV was grateful to the Huguenots for their loyalty during the insurrection of the Fronde (1648–1653) but, in his view, the unity of a country should be both political and religious: un roi, une loi, une foi (one king, one law, one faith), the principle expressed by Jacques Bénigne Bossuet, bishop of Meaux and tutor to the dauphin, the king’s heir.58 To strengthen national unity, Louis XIV strove to achieve religious homogeneity by forcing Huguenots to convert to Catholicism. 55. Les tragiques, Book I, Misères II, 97–130. 56. For an overview of this incident see Diefendorf, “The Religious Wars of France,” 158–60. 57. For the succession crisis provoked by the death of François d’Alençon in 1584, and the formation of the League or Holy Union to oppose Henri de Navarre’s ascendancy, see especially Diefendorf, “The Religious Wars in France,” 162–65. 58. See Politique tirée des propres paroles de l’ écriture sainte (The Treatise of Politics, Based on the Very Words of Holy Writ) (Paris: Pierre Cot, 1709), Book 3, La nature et les propriétés de l’autorité royale (The Nature and Properties of Royal Authority), Article 2, Proposition 3 (The prince must be obeyed on the principles of religion and conscience), 84–87, and Book 7, Des devoirs particuliers de la royauté (On Specific Duties of the Prince), Article 4, Proposition 9 and 10, 308–10, where it is said that the prince must use all of his authority to eradicate false religions from his state. For Jacques-Benigne Bossuet (1627–1704), bishop of Meaux from 1681, renowned defender of the Catholic Church and adviser to the royal family, see Ernest Edwin Reynolds, Bossuet (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1963).
Introduction 17 During his reign, various decrees were issued that progressively eroded Huguenot freedoms guaranteed by the Edict of Nantes.59 In 1664, exclusionary measures against Protestants rendered advancement in the guilds quite difficult for them. In 1665, fourteen-year-old boys and twelve-year-old girls were authorized to convert to Catholicism and leave their parents, who were required to pay an annuity for their support. In 1666, the establishment of new colleges and maintenance of academies for the education of young people from the Huguenot nobility were strictly forbidden. In 1669, emigration was made punishable; those caught were sent to galleys and their property confiscated. Meanwhile, the expeditions of the dragonnades (1681–1685) were organized by Poitou Intendant René de Marillac with the encouragement of the Secretary of State for War François Michel Le Tellier de Louvois. Finally, on October 18, 1685, Louis XIV revoked the Edict of Nantes: Huguenots were forbidden to practice their faith, ministers were expelled from France, and young children were taken away from their families to be raised in the only faith allowed in the kingdom. As a result, many Protestants emigrated to England, Switzerland, Prussia, the Netherlands, and America. This flight to Protestant countries to escape ruthless persecution by the state is commonly referred to as “The Great Refuge,” one of the largest migratory waves of early modern Europe. The decision between conversion and exile was not an easy one. Those who chose to flee had to wait for the right opportunity; assemble enough money to secure transportation and recruit dependable smugglers; be physically fit to endure the hard and perilous journey ahead of them; separate temporarily or permanently from their loved ones; leave all their possessions behind and start anew; familiarize themselves with the language, basic customs and rules of comportment of the host country. And yet rather than recanting, many chose to leave their homeland with little or no hope of ever coming back.60 Protestantism persisted in France, although its followers were limited in number. Opposition continued as well, due mainly to the machinations of the Roman Catholic clergy who kept impressing upon the king the argument that the ruler of the land should determine the religion of the land, according to the 59. Information that follows comes from Will Durant and Ariel Durant, “The King and the Huguenots: 1643–1715,” excerpt from The Story of Civilization, vol. 8: The Age of Louis XIV (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1963), 69–75, online at the Huguenot Society of the Founders of Manakin in the Colony of Virginia: . On the consecutive royal edicts gradually eroding Huguenots’ rights in the 1660s to 1680s, see Élisabeth Labrousse, “Une foi, une loi, un roi?”: Essai sur la Révocation de l’Édit de Nantes (Geneva: Labor et Fides; Paris: Payot, 1985), 125–49. 60. In Facing the Revocation: Huguenot Families, Faith, and the King’s Will (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), Carolyn Chappell Lougee examines the Huguenot diaspora and resettlement abroad through the lens of a noble Protestant family, the Champagné from Saintonge in southwest France. On the Huguenots’ assimilation and integration in their new country, see Myriam Yardeni, “Assimilation and Integration,” in Mentzer and Van Ruymbeke, A Companion to the Huguenots, 273–90.
18 Introduction prevailing principle of cuius regio, eius religio (“whose realm, his religion”). In the middle of the eighteenth century, persecution against Huguenots was briefly revived; but at the time of the French Revolution, liberty of religion was granted once and for all to Protestants, along with access to all public offices and professions. In today’s France, Protestants represent only two percent of the total population. No animosity remains of the hostility that once drew Huguenots and Roman Catholics apart.
Calvinist Theology and Human History As Nicholas Paige speculates, there might be a special relationship between Protestantism and the early development of the modern autobiography.61 Hundreds of firsthand accounts of the Huguenot experience of persecution, emigration, and exile appeared at the time of the Revocation and the Huguenot exodus from France; a fact that Carolyn Lougee Chappell finds surprising, given that commemoration of individual lives, in the form of personal histories, violates Calvinistic theology that reserves all glory to God alone.62 She notes that “justification by faith, rendering worldly works irrelevant to redemption, denied legitimacy to human history, including all those Catholic remembrance practices— memorials of the dead, tombs, epitaphs, saints’ lives, relics—out of which modern memoirs are often said to have developed.”63 It is useful to consider here the reasons that may have prompted Mornay, Chaufepié, and Du Noyer to write their personal histories. Mornay claims that she wrote about the life of her husband and her own for the sole benefit of their son: “I hand you this guide written in my own hand to accompany you.”64 When Philippe departed in 1595, at the age of sixteen, on his World Grand Tour, she offered him an incomplete copy of her memoir. However, in October 1606, when she received the tragic news that he had been killed on the battlefield at the age of twenty-six, she immediately ceased writing: “It seems reasonable that my book should end on the subject of my son, since it was written with the intention of describing to him our journey in this life, and because his life was cut short by the will of God.”65
61. Nicholas Paige, Being Interior: Autobiography and the Contradictions of Modernity in SeventeenthCentury France (Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001), 121 and 125–27. 62. See Carolyn Lougee Chappell, “Huguenot Memoirs,” in Mentzer and Van Ruymbeke, A Companion to the Huguenots, 323–47, and “Paper Memories and Identity Papers: Why Huguenot Refugees Wrote Memoirs,” in Narrating the Self in Early Modern Europe, ed. Bruno Tribout and Ruth Whelan (Berlin: Peter Lang, 2007), 121–38. 63. Lougee, “Paper Memories,” 122. 64. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:3. Our translation. 65. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 2:111.
Introduction 19 In writing for her son, Mornay was not merely passing along the wisdom she and her husband had gained from experience. As a mother, she considered that her primary responsibility was pastoral: teaching her son the principles of spiritual life, a responsibility all the more essential in the eyes of Protestants who “regarded the family itself as a religious space.”66 Although Mornay’s memoir focuses on secular life, it has strong spiritual content as well as an obvious religious and edifying purpose. By offering her son insights into both her husband’s and her own personal histories, including their respective involvement in the defense of the Huguenot cause, she aimed to instill in him the values and beliefs which constituted the spiritual heritage that he would pursue in his own life: “I will believe that you remember me when I hear you say that you serve God, and follow the example of your father.”67 She showed genuine concern for the spiritual development of their son. The quote below encapsulates the way she envisioned her role as a mother. Drawing from the imagery of 1 Peter 2:2–3, she expresses hope that, as newborn infants crave the pure milk from their mothers’ breasts, her son, too, will be longing for a virtuous doctrine and grow up in grace: My son, God is my witness that He gave me hope, even before your birth, that you would spend your life serving Him, and this must be evidence of His grace, and an admonition to you to do your duty. From the time you were a baby suckling at my breast, your father and I strove to bring you up in His fear, so far as lay in our power; and furthermore, to render you more apt, we went to great lengths to give you a good education. God granted us success so that you could not only live a Christian life, but shine in His church.68 Philippe’s death in the name of the Huguenot cause bears witness to Mornay’s successful nurturing. After her son was gone, she built the project of a new memoir as her legacy to her daughters69 for the education and nourishment of her grandchildren,70 but she died before she could even undertake her project. Anne de Chaufepié seems to have had quite different reasons for writing of her escape from France. Her house was pillaged by dragoons, her belongings stolen and scattered; in the face of imminent danger, she was forced to flee and leave many of her belongings behind, perhaps even important papers such as identifying documentation. Firsthand memoirs often served as substitute in 66. Lougee, “Huguenot Memoirs,” 342. 67. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:4. Our translation. 68. Mornay, Mémoires, 1:1. Our translation. 69. On mothers’ spiritual legacies see Jennifer Heller, The Mother’s Legacy in Early Modern England (Farnham, UK: Ashgate, 2003), 87–116. On the characteristics of the genre, see 2–4. 70. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 2:114.
20 Introduction case of loss of personal documents as they contained names of people (family members, acquaintances, other fugitives) and places indicating the identity of the memoir writer. Chaufepié’s intent to emigrate and resettle in a new community abroad may have been another reason that prompted her to take pen to paper. A particular institutional practice of the Calvinist diaspora required that the newcomers to a refuge read aloud, before the refugee congregation, the account of their perseverance in the face of persecution.71 The history of French Protestantism remains “a history of violence and persecution.”72 From 1554 onwards, martyrdom, “a keystone of Protestant identity,”73 was promoted through the rapid circulation of books like John Foxe’s Acts and Monuments, Jean Crespin’s Livre des martyrs (Book of the Martyrs), Simon Goulart’s Histoire des martyrs (History of the Martyrs), and Agrippa d’Aubigné’s Les tragiques. Chaufepié perceived her own suffering and that of her female friends as experiences of martyrdom; as such, she frames their experience as a tale of heroic perseverance in the face of persecution, typical of the martyrdom literature produced in France during the bloodiest times in the history of Protestantism. She provides detailed accounts of the hardships which she and her friends had to go through in order to save their souls. She elaborates on the discomfort of travel as they were transferred from one prison or convent to another, the harshness of their guards and of those rendering judgment in general, and the inhumanity of inquisitorial procedures. She appeals to her audience’s senses by describing the emotions of the women when they found themselves isolated in the darkness of dungeons, with no one to speak to and left with little food, as well as much discomfort in the uncertainty of their own fate and that of their friends. In addition to the physical hardship, Chaufepié places great emphasis on the emotional abuse inflicted upon the female prisoners through various techniques of intimidation and continual threats of the most painful punishment or even death. She adds credibility to her story by designating by name the prisons and convents where she and her friends were placed, as well as some of the wrongdoers, associated with the atrocities of the dragonnades. Chaufepié suggests that so much suffering forcibly served higher purposes and clearly views it as a sign of divine election, a matter to which she pays special attention.74 The style of the journal itself, with its piling-up effect resulting from 71. On these “reconnaissance” or congregation-based tellings, see Lougee, “Paper Memories,” 129–30. 72. See Yves Krumenacker, “The Use of History by French Protestants and Its Impact on Protestant Historiography,” in History and Religion: Narrating a Religious Past, ed. Bernd-Christian Otto, Susanne Rau, and Jörg Rüpke (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015), 191 and 199. 73. Racaut, Hatred in Print, 63. On the Protestant culture of martyrdom, see Frank Lestringant, Lumière des martyrs: Essai sur le martyre au siècle des Réformes (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2004), 31–60. 74. Lougee sees here a particularity of the French narratives as opposed to the English Puritan narratives of the same period, which tend to focus on spiritual pilgrimage: see “Paper Memories,” 125.
Introduction 21 the episodic structure of the narrative, reinforces the idea that the more trials and tribulations the women endured, the closer they were to God. The last pages of the journal are devoted to the description of specific circumstances (three in particular) when Chaufepié claimed that she felt God watching over her. In the end, the elect, those whom God has marked for salvation according to Calvinist belief, are identified by their proper names and given as examples worthy of perpetual memory, whereas those who succumbed out of fear to the temptation of converting remain anonymous, doomed to oblivion and forever associated with shame and envy. Although Du Noyer’s story, extracted from her memoir and translated in this volume, recounts events concurrent with Chaufepié’s story, the tone and content are very different. Du Noyer composed her memoir long after the fact. Beginning in 1686, she trekked back and forth across Europe in search of a place to worship her God freely. In the process, she had to abjure her faith, but in the end, a Huguenot she remained. Her main reason for writing her memoir, according to what she says on its first page, is to give the public “a fair idea of who [she is], during times when calumny tends to disfigure people.”75 Du Noyer insists that she put pen to paper “for the sake of truth and not by vanity”: “I ask of those who read [my memoir] to show indulgence for my weaknesses, compassion for my misfortune and trust for what I say, for my intention is to tell the truth about everything.”76 But if, like Chaufepié, Du Noyer presents herself as an advocate of truth, her intention is not to tell the story of the Huguenot community, but rather her own story in order to rehabilitate her image sullied by scandalous gossip. It is clear from the start that Du Noyer indulges in self-narrative for pleasure, both her readers’ and her own. Unsurprisingly, she made a living out of her writing later on in life. In contrast to Mornay and Chaufepié, she writes with the conscious intent of publishing her work (and indeed, her Memoirs were published during her lifetime). She is undeniably the most talented writer of the three. She generally favors information of an anecdotal nature. Her story included here speaks to her ability to tell a good tale, to know just what to keep and what to eliminate in order to preserve the reader’s interest from beginning to end. In spite of the gravity of the events she recounts, her tone remains light and even humorous at times. Where Du Noyer’s memoir is not typical of Revocation-era testimonial literature, it remains worthy of our attention for the fascinating story it tells of a woman who was extraordinary in many ways. Its documentary style, recording the 75. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 27; transation by Reynolds-Cornell, Fiction and Reality, 13. Du Noyer’s opening statement echoes that by Marguerite de Valois, daughter of Queen Catherine de Médicis, in her memoir of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, where she, likewise, repudiates the inauthentic representation that Brantôme had given of her in his Discours sur la Reyne de France et de Navarre. 76. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 1.
22 Introduction Huguenot exodus in the wake of the Revocation, is equally remarkable. Extending beyond the traditional escape narrative, Du Noyer’s memoir offers an interesting window onto the experience of exile, assimilation, and integration. Her story as given here contains the type of document typically delivered to émigrés in order to facilitate their obtaining room and board at their point of destination. Du Noyer obtained such a document as she passed through Switzerland on her way to The Hague. It bears the signature of eight pastors traveling in her group and attests that she left France “for her faith,” and that, as a good Huguenot, she should be provided assistance as she may need. In addition to insights into the question of resettlement abroad, Du Noyer provides detailed descriptions of the places she and her group visited along the way, unraveling their history and cultural heritage. Particularly enlightening are the Huguenots’ views of Lutheran practices regarding images, psalm-singing, and the highly controversial issue of transubstantiation: I was happy to find myself there on a day of communion. I saw in the middle of the church an altar on which there was a crucifix; at each end of the altar, two little clerics held a cloth to collect what bread or wine may have fallen during communion, and the communicants walked around the altar to take bread from one side and wine from the other, which the pastors distributed to them. This care that they had not to lose a single morsel of the sacrament showed me that they believed it to be the body of Christ; but they only believed this in the act of communion itself, and defined it in a very different way from the Roman Catholics.77 Calvinists rejected the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, according to which the Eucharistic elements, when consecrated by an ordained priest, are transformed into the body and blood of Christ while keeping the appearance of bread and wine. Luther, on the other hand, acknowledged the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist but rejected the doctrine concerning the transformation of the earthly gifts (bread and wine) into the body and the blood of Christ.78 Du Noyer notes the presence of a crucifix on the altar as well as images that “seemed to serve as a decoration rather than an object of devotion for the people.”79 Luther, as we know, condemned idolatry—ungodly attachment to images—but he tolerated images such as crucifixes and representations of saints as aids to reflection, but not objects of worship. 77. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 160–161, and below at 99. 78. See Peter J. Riga, “Lutheranism and Transubstantiation,” . 79. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), and below at 99.
Introduction 23 Also of special interest are the anecdotes on foreign customs and ethnic communities as they are told from the unique point of view of a seventeenth-century French woman from the upper class. Du Noyer avoids judging what appears to be different from what she believes in or is accustomed to, but instead lets her readers draw their own conclusions. For example, noticing that forks, knives and napkins are not provided in German inns, she simply remarks with an alleged naiveté: “In that country, they never give out forks or knives, and it is assumed that each person has their own. They are also unfamiliar with the usage of napkins: all you can do is wipe your mouth with the tip of the tablecloth.”80 She shows a certain leniency toward the heavy drinking for which German men are known, even though it prevented her from having a good night’s sleep on a particular occasion: “However, in spite of all of this barbaric behavior, they still treated us properly: even when these men were inebriated, they never spoke to us in a crude manner.”81 As for the harsh punishment reserved in Zurich for men found guilty of conjugal infidelity, she finds some useful purpose to it, which, in her view, could benefit French women as well: “people are married extremely young, and the severity of the law ensures that each man remains with his woman, and that when you do not have what you love, you love what you have; because adultery is punishable by death in Zurich, and no one complains about it. Therefore, a woman can count on the fidelity of her husband, and as a result, she is protected from jealousy, the cruel disease of other nations.”82 With the benefit of hindsight, Du Noyer is able to look back at things in a different light, and even laugh at the time when, in order to keep up with her guide, she slid down an icy mountain on her backside. In sum, all three women writers had their own personal reasons for cultivating human memory. In crafting their narratives, they employed the strategies they found most suited to their particular objectives: Mornay sought to nurture her son with the good doctrine of Protestantism by offering him examples of commendable conduct; Chaufepié aimed to safeguard the memory of her group of female friends for generations to come by dramatizing Protestant victimhood; and Du Noyer attempted to put an end to slander by recounting the detailed story of her tumultuous life with the intention of providing her readers with both enjoyment and convincing evidence of her determination to remain steadfast in her faith.
Tales of Survival What makes the historical narratives of early modern women unique is that they are presented as firsthand testimonies or lived experiences, and they are written from a female point of view. As such, they illuminate events of the past—historical 80. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 158, and below at 97. 81. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 159–60, and below at 98. 82. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 156, and below at 97.
24 Introduction events such as the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, the dragonnades, the Huguenot exodus at the time of the Revocation—from the unique firsthand perspective of women. They show that political and religious unrest, far from affecting just those directly involved in combat, had an impact on the lives of civilians as well, namely on families and women. In this way, they provide a broader and more nuanced picture of lived experiences in time of war. Although women do not use one voice when writing about their survival in wartime, they tend to focus on similar topics, which clearly distinguish their narratives from those penned by their male counterparts. Three examples follow, which highlight the gender consciousness that prevails in these narratives. The first one discusses Mornay and Du Noyer’s treatment of the “escape motif ” and points to their emphasis on the gendered nature of the flight experience. The second example assesses to what extent religious strife affected families. The last example discusses the importance placed in Mornay’s and Chaufepié’s narratives on women’s interactions and their reliance on one another during wartime. Women Crossing Borders All three narratives translated here demonstrate characteristics of the survival tale, a genre that emerged in the middle of the seventeenth century with the Huguenot exodus. Chaufepié’s journal is the prototype of this genre. Mornay and Du Noyer’s texts present the flight episode as one particularly memorable chapter in their lives—especially in the case of Mornay since it takes her to Sedan where she meets her future husband who also experienced firsthand the atrocities of the St. Bartholomew’s Day.83 Circumstances surrounding the writing of these texts were quite different. Mornay wrote her piece over a century before our other authors, after having witnessed one of the bloodiest massacres in history—a priceless account partly because of its rarity.84 It all began in Paris where she was staying at the time. In just a few hours, violence escalated to an almost unfathomable degree and spread to different parts of the country within a matter of days. Things happened so rapidly that there was no time for Mornay to prepare her escape. She had no intention of leaving her homeland, but she knew she had to seek refuge away from Paris. Chaufepié and Du Noyer witnessed the dragonnades, another brutal chapter in Huguenot history. They did not have much time to prepare their flight, but Chaufepié was able to sell her possessions in order to raise some money for her journey, and Du Noyer managed to obtain the proper papers to travel. Both of them—particularly Du Noyer—speak at length of their escape plans, of their
83. See Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:38–45. 84. The only other Protestant females we know of who published accounts of their experiences of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre are Renée Burlamacchi and Marguerite de Valois. See Appendix: Testimonial Literature by Huguenot Women.
Introduction 25 difficulty, and of the high cost of securing a ship for overseas transit or a reliable overland guide. A major episode in survival stories is the escape itself. All three stories include accounts of escape. Chaufepié places emphasis not on the act of flight itself, but on the consequences of her failed attempt to escape. The largest part of her journal is devoted to her imprisonment after her arrest and the abuses inflicted upon her and her friends by the guards and the ecclesiastical authorities. Mornay and Du Noyer, on the other hand, depict the flight episode as a story in itself. Another common thread between these narratives is the “disguise motif.” Both Mornay and Du Noyer chanced escaping by disguising themselves. Chaufepié did not change her appearance, but with her best friend, the so-called Mademoiselle de Saumaise, having arrived in La Rochelle on Holy Thursday and entered the city gates just as mass was ending, they passed for Catholic worshipers and thereby escaped the scrutiny of the guards. In sixteenth-century France, Huguenots risked severe penalties for openly professing their faith. When Louis XIV refused Huguenots the privileges that had been granted to them by the Edict of Nantes and persecution intensified, many sought to emigrate to England, the Netherlands, various German states, Switzerland and even America. After the Revocation on October 18, 1685, France lost approximately one per cent of its population.85 Many of those who departed had distinguished themselves in the fields of manufacturing and commerce. In the face of this migratory wave and the economic drain it entailed for the homeland,86 strict measures were taken to prevent skilled and prosperous families from leaving. Those caught were severely punished: men were sent to the galleys, women were locked up in prisons and cloisters, and children were taken away to be raised as Catholics by monks or nuns. How did the fugitives manage to escape? What risks were they willing to take? What ingenious means did they employ to outwit the authorities, elude the surveillance of guards at city gates, and avoid the suspicion of those around them who did not share their faith? Disguise was the resort of many. Men would sometimes dress as sailors or wine merchants to legitimize their supposed need for traveling abroad. Women, in order to save their lives, would even cross class or gender boundaries. In the first part of Mornay’s story, Charlotte, a woman of rank, dresses as a common woman to escape the raging violence against Huguenots on 85. As Yardeni notes, historians find it difficult to establish the exact number of fugitives, partly because refugees moved from one place to another and sometimes registered in several communities: “Assimilation and Integration,” 274–76. They also have difficulty in estimating the demographic decline of France’s Huguenot community between 1600 and 1685: see Philip Benedict, The Faith and Fortunes of France’s Huguenots, 1600–1685 (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2001), chapter 2, “The Huguenot Population of France, 1600–1685,” at 35–120. 86. On France’s economic and cultural loss due to emigration, see Treasure, The Huguenots, 369–75.
26 Introduction St. Bartholomew’s Day.87 In the patriarchal society of the modern world, lowerclass women were by far the most vulnerable to exploitation and subordination, having no recourse—not even the law—to defend them from the worst abuses. Disguised as a domestic servant, Charlotte is forced to act her part. In such an attire, she finds herself in situations unheard of for a well-born woman, like being called by her first name by the plebeian who accompanies her in her flight, or serving him a drink when ordered to do so. But Charlotte will stop at nothing to cast off her traveling companions’ suspicion. Another episode describes her fear when she is forced to share the same bed with the two common women who travel with her. Under her servant’s disguise, she wears an embroidered chemise of fine Holland cloth that a supporter has kindly lent her. She fears that in seeing this garment, her bedmates may find out her true identity. Like Mornay, Du Noyer recalls in her memoir her flight in disguise. After an unsuccessful attempt to go to Geneva, Anne Marguerite finally finds a sure way to escape, which requires that she dress up as the young apprentice cook of an innkeeper from Seissel. Anne Marguerite, who is unusually short for her age (she is twenty-three at the time), is perfect for the part: she just needs to have her hair cut short to look like the lad she pretends to be. Not having given much thought to the consequences of such a disguise, she soon finds out what it means for a woman to wear a boy’s breeches. Along the way, she is treated by her guide as a servant and is subjected to all kinds of abuse, both verbal and physical. As they approach a town, she must go on foot; when they stop at an inn, she must take the horse to the stable, care for it herself, and accept the worst sleeping accommodations. One episode shows how far the masquerade can go, given early modern gender assumptions. At one of their rest stops, Anne Marguerite’s pale face and her high-pitched voice arouse the suspicion of the hostess. Anne Marguerite pretends to be sick and asks permission to go to her room. But the true challenge comes when she prepares herself to go to bed and is forced to undress in the presence of a young female servant. The only thing she can think of to preserve her secret is to assume her supposed “manliness” and make improper advances to the maidservant, hoping that she will not take them seriously. When she does and comes back to the room, Anne Marguerite has no other choice but to pretend that she is asleep. This episode reminds us that the way a boy gave evidence of his manhood involved demonstration of his sexual prowess, which commonly led to sexual aggression and violence against women. Although this form of violence occurred across all socioeconomic classes, it most notoriously affected female servants, left unprotected as they were by those supposed to watch over them.
87. For the escalating violence in Paris during St. Bartholomew’s Day, see Barbara B. Diefendorf, Beneath the Cross: Catholics and Huguenots in Sixteenth-Century Paris (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 93–106 and 159–75.
Introduction 27 When the servant girl tells what happened, her mistress believes her but does not act upon it, more concerned by the fact that the lad is indeed who he says he is. Disguised as a boy, Anne Marguerite finds herself in situations totally unheard of for a woman, including spending the night in a monastery of Carthusians, being forced to hear her “master” swear like a sailor, or walking terribly long distances and perilous paths in the worst weather conditions. After revealing her true identity, Anne Marguerite finds it surprising that Monsieur Minutoli (her contact in Geneva), “despite [her] outrageous attire, had [her] share a bed with one of [his] daughters.”88 When Anne Marguerite and Charlotte reach freedom and recover their true identities, they both come to the full realization of the dangerous situation in which they put themselves by stepping out of their place and crossing social and gender boundaries. In evoking these life-and-death situations, Anne Marguerite seems to keep her sense of humor. Reporting the case of a woman who “passed by the guards pretending to be mute and played her role so well that they were fooled and let her through,” she notes, “It is pretty difficult for those of our sex to refrain from speaking; she did it nonetheless, and her silence was rewarded.”89 Yet Anne Marguerite expresses relief when she is finally able to reassume her sex eight days later: “The next morning, I was given girls’ clothes while I waited for my own, which had been given to a messenger from Lyon; after they arrived, I reassumed my sex that I had left eight days earlier.”90 And so does Charlotte when, thanks to the generosity of her coreligionists, she can dress again as the “demoiselle” that she is: “I had not been yet an hour in Sedan before I was dressed as a demoiselle.”91 The guards, Charlotte notes after her arrest in Sens, “put me back on the boat, telling me that if I had been a man, I never would have escaped at such a bargain.”92 Huguenot women may not have been treated any worse than their male counterparts, but this fact does not in any way diminish the sufferings they endured to save their lives and to remain true to their religion. Du Noyer gives a heroic twist to her flight by recounting in detail the ways in which, each time, she managed to get herself out of her predicament. She also calls our attention to the fact that she forgave her guide for all the suffering he caused her and refused that he be punished for it. Her personal account is meant to be, even more than Mornay’s, a demonstration of her enduring faith while, at the same time, a 88. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 128, and below at 91. 89. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 114, and below at 86. 90. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 128, and below at 91. 91. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:71, and below at 51. Sumptuary laws were meant to keep the middle class from dressing as the upper class, but there was no special law preventing the other way around from happening. Crossing boundaries, however, whatever they may have been (class, gender), was viewed as a threat to social order and was severely punished. 92. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:67, and below at 49.
28 Introduction tribute to those women, evoked in her memoir, who, like her, were abused but also “robbed, raped, and assassinated” in the name of their God.93 Families in Crisis “Family remains a major focus of women’s memoirs, mostly because of its centrality in women’s lives,” Barbara Caine rightly notes.94 Religious upheavals took a heavy toll on family life and relationships. This may be another reason why family is of such great concern in the three women’s stories featured here. Those like Mornay, for whom leaving the country was not an option and not even a consideration, had to live with the possibility that their children might be taken away from them at any time to be brought up by Catholics, that they might have to part from them during outbursts of violence, that they might be massacred by an uncontrollable mob or even killed on the battlefield. Those determined to flee often had to part from their children as well for fear that they might put their lives at risk as they escaped.95 Economic precariousness, limited availability of transport, and the physical rigors of travel forced some parents to leave their children behind temporarily or even abandon them for good. Chaufepié, Mornay, and Du Noyer explore the different circumstances that caused tensions within their families during the crises of the Wars of Religion and the Revocation. Anne de Chaufepié was one of those “children” left behind. After her two brothers (both ministers of the Reformed Church) were expelled from France, and after her younger sister (sister des Aubiers) secured freedom abroad, she was left alone with her other sister (sister de la Croix) to plan her escape. For a short while, it seemed that the two sisters intended to chance escape together: they sought their belongings together after their home had been pillaged by dragoons and their possessions destroyed or sold; they subsequently sold all that they could recover in order to raise sufficient funds to finance their journey abroad. They divided their total gain into three parts and sent to the sister who emigrated (sister des Aubiers) her share to ease her resettlement in her new community. After this episode, we lose sight of Anne’s sister de la Croix. Mention is made of two maternal aunts (the demoiselles de la Forest) and two of their friends who belonged to the same escape party as Anne. When Anne was arrested trying to make her 93. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 113, and below at 85. 94. “Family,” in Companion to Women’s Historical Writing, ed. Mary Spongberg, Ann Curthoys, and Barbara Caine (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), 160. For more on the subject of “families in crisis,” see Lougee, Facing the Revocation, 128–56. 95. Renée Burlamacchi, for instance, recalls in her memoir the night of the St. Bartholomew’s Massacre, when she and her young siblings were left behind with a servant for fear that their cries would betray their parents as they tried to escape Paris. See Renée Burlamacchi, Descrittione della vita et morte del Signor Michele Burlamacchi/Description de la vie et de la mort du seigneur Michele Burlamacchi (1623), in Les femmes et l’histoire familiale, XVIe–XVIIe siècle, ed. Susan Broomhall and Colette H. Winn (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2008), 99–100.
Introduction 29 way onto a ship returning to England and taken into custody, there were no family members in her company other than her two aunts, their two friends, and Mademoiselle de Saumaise. Family life occupies an important part of Mornay’s memoir and separation from her loved ones is a recurrent theme. As a leading figure of the Protestant party, her husband was frequently called away on missions, and Charlotte was left alone to care for the children and the family household. Additionally, her precarious health, difficult pregnancies, and the growing family made traveling a real challenge for her. The first part of Mornay’s story contains several heartfelt passages in which the author shares her feelings as she parts from those close to her. In the first scene, she sees from her window Huguenots being massacred on the street below. Time is of the essence: as a mother, her immediate concern is the safety of her three-and-a-half-year-old daughter. To keep her out of danger, she must send her away while she finishes putting things in order, for her house will soon be searched. Most poignant is the passage describing the mother watching her child being carried away in the arms of her maid as bullets are raining down on them. Another scene helps us to imagine the mother’s terror: as she hides in an attic, she hears “some of the most disturbing screams of men, women and children being massacred in the streets.”96 At that moment, she considers her own life to be of so little value compared to that of her child: “With my daughter downstairs, I became so desperate that, if not for my fear of offending God, I would have rather thrown myself from the top of the building than fall into the hands of the mob and see my daughter massacred, which I feared more than my own death.”97 Another passage from the same story describes the tensions caused by confessional differences between mother and daughter and brother and sister. In order to save the lives of her brothers who have already embraced the Reformed faith, Charlotte’s mother sends them to mass. She hopes to save her daughter in the same way, but Charlotte holds strongly to her faith and refuses to worship as a Catholic. When her mother realizes that whatever she says or does will not convince her daughter to convert, she lets Charlotte know that she will no longer support her and will send her daughter back to her. At a loss for words, Charlotte simply responds, “If it must be so I would take my daughter in my arms and, if we were killed, at least we would be together.”98 What troubles her most, obviously, is that her mother puts religious conformity above the most sacred bond of all, that of a mother and her child. On her way to Sedan, Charlotte stops at the home of her brother who now goes to mass. Under their mother’s pressure, Charlotte’s brother had renounced the Reformed faith. The brother and sister remain silent 96. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:62, and below at 46. 97. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:62, and below at 46. 98. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:64, and below at 47.
30 Introduction on the subject, but after Charlotte’s brother tries to trick her into going to mass, their relationship changes. When the brother realizes Charlotte’s sincere devotion, he knows that he has done wrong and that he has made it impossible for Charlotte to stay at his home any longer. Their farewells encapsulate their mixed emotions, their love for each other, and the distance created between them by confessional differences. Where the first part of Mornay’s story underlines familial tensions resulting from religious discord, the second demonstrates that the inverse is equally likely, namely that religious concord can greatly strengthen parent-child relationships. During his brief life, Charlotte’s son, Philippe, fulfilled her hopes for him by remaining faithful to familial beliefs and religious duties. In his correspondence, he reported his actions and commitments, always showing respect and consideration for the judgments of his father and mother. The fact that he died serving in the army of Maurice of Nassau, prince of Orange, leader of the Dutch rebellion against Catholic Spain,99 fills them with pride, as can be seen in the section of Mornay’s story on his death. Charlotte describes the circumstances that led to Philippe’s decision to go to war in order to support Prince Maurice as he invaded the city of Gheldres. She recounts how Philippe offered himself as an ordinary soldier to fight alongside Captain Sault in spite of a foot injury that greatly handicapped him. She recounts at great length the honors rendered to her son first by the soldiers, then by officials, Catholic and Protestant both, when Philippe’s body is brought home to his parents: “Several gentlemen of the army, even some of the opposing religion, wrote that the grief was as profound amongst all the soldiers as if they had lost a great part of their army.”100 She even cites the king’s words when he hears of Philippe’s loss: “I lost one of the most promising gentlemen in my kingdom. My heart goes out to his father, to whom I send my deepest sympathies; no other father could bear such a loss.”101 Charlotte’s grief at the loss of her son attests to the sacrifice mothers were willing to make for the defense of the Huguenot cause. Du Noyer’s memoir illuminates the complexities of the mother-daughter relationship. In this case, however, the tensions that arise between the two are not directly associated with religion. Instead, they come from emotions that are exacerbated by the uncertainty of escape. As the dragonnades reach Nîmes and its surrounding areas, Anne Marguerite and Madame Saporta decide to flee their homeland in order to remain true to their faith. They originally plan to make their 99. Maurice of Nassau, Prince of Orange (1567–1625), son of prince William I of Orange-Nassau (1533–1584), stadtholder of all the provinces of the Dutch Republic except for Friesland (1585–1625), and head of the rebellion of the Protestant Seven Provinces of the Low Countries against the Roman Catholic monarch, Philip III of Spain. 100. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:107, and below at 55. 101. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:107, and below at 56.
Introduction 31 escape together; but when their first attempt to emigrate to Switzerland fails, they are forced to reconsider their options. None of the guides whom they approach seems worthy of trust, and Madame Saporta is terrified at the prospect of undertaking another dangerous and painful journey. What she dreads most, however, is being separated from her beloved surrogate daughter. So when the opportunity presents itself for Anne Marguerite to leave alone disguised as a lad, Madame Saporta is extremely reluctant to let her daughter part from her. Du Noyer explores the conflicting emotions of mother and daughter at the prospect of separation. On the one side, the mother is terribly alarmed at the thought of the added risks her daughter is taking by traveling alone. On the other side, the daughter is increasingly concerned by her mother’s excessive anxiety, which may compromise her chance of making it to Geneva. After several attempts to reason with her, Anne Marguerite finally convinces her to let down her guard: “Madame Saporta did not come around to it easily; she could not bear being separated from me, but I made her feel guilty, which ultimately forced her to consent to my departure.”102 During religious upheavals, few families remained intact. Many did not survive the challenges of confessional differences. In this time of crisis, the families of Chaufepié, Du Noyer, and Mornay were not spared; they endured hardship, either through forced separation, religious discord, overpowering parenting, or tragic loss, but the bonds of kinship and affection were strong enough for each of these families to survive. Anne de Chaufepié was reunited with her family; but when she finally made it to the Low Countries, she found that her father had died. After they separated in Lyon, Anne Marguerite was in no hurry to have her mother join her in Switzerland. She wrote to her as soon as she arrived in Geneva to reassure her, but she tried to dissuade her to venture to Switzerland. Instead, she encouraged her to join her brother in Paris, which Madame Saporta finally did despite having to convert. But whatever tensions there may have been between them at the time of their escape due to the overbearing attachment of a mother to her daughter, their affection for each other remained intact and in fact never wavered. Confessional differences never were a source of conflict between them, even though they both changed religion several times. In 1701, however, religious divisions caused the Du Noyer family to split. Anne Marguerite went into exile for a second time to save her two daughters from forced conversion to Catholicism. Meanwhile, she was compelled to abandon her son, whom she never saw again. It is as a mother, whose natural rights to raise her offspring in accordance with her own religious beliefs have been violated, that Du Noyer opposes the persecution of Huguenots. Goldwyn notes the significance and implications of Du Noyer’s rebellion against what she perceived as a clear violation of her parenting rights: “By fleeing, she destabilizes social space and subverts familial and collective ties, striking a major blow to paternal power in the 102. Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 115, and below at 86.
32 Introduction very midst of the seventeenth century, the so-called âge d’or des pères [golden age of fatherhood].”103 As for Charlotte, she never gave in to her mother’s pressing requests to convert to Catholicism. She persisted in her Protestantism and became a most devout and devoted worshiper. When her son died to defend the Huguenot cause—a goal she had persuaded him to pursue—she submitted to God’s will and was very proud of the way he served Him, but ultimately, she could not survive her loss. Women’s Friendship and Solidarity In the last few decades, much work has been done on women’s alliances and communities in early modern Britain.104 Surprisingly, less attention has been devoted to the same subject in France.105 Early modern women lived, from birth to death, in the close proximity of other women, whether women in the family, neighbors, friends, or women with whom they shared a special interest. When women found themselves in isolation or in need of support, solace, and strength, they tended to turn to their own kind. The narratives by Mornay, Chaufepié, and Du Noyer reveal significant evidence of the existence of interactions and relationships between early modern women and attest to the bonds they forged in the face of danger. In her memoir, Mornay shows that her escape from Paris was made possible by communal efforts of both male and female friends who helped her to find safe hiding places and reliable people to accompany her along the way. The human and material resources that were made available to her on her journey attest to the collaborative spirit that prevailed in Protestant networks, but aid also came from people she least expected to provide it. On the boat to Sens, Charlotte’s travel companions suspect that she may be a Huguenot. She does not have a passport, which causes her to be arrested at the city gates. In seeing the expression of terror on her face, the guards assume that the woman they have in their hands is indeed a Huguenot and they threaten to drown her. At that point, Charlotte fears the worst; however, a Catholic woman who happens to overhear the guards, points 103. Henriette Goldwyn, “Mme Du Noyer: Dissident Memorialist of the Huguenot Diaspora,” in Women Writers in Pre-Revolutionary France: Strategies of Emancipation, ed. Colette H. Winn and Donna Kuizenga (New York: Garland, 1997), 118. 104. Most studies concern formal alliances rather than just women’s engagement with one another. See for instance Susan Broomhall and Stephanie Tarbin, eds., Women, Identities, and Communities in Early Modern Europe (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2008); Susan Frye and Karen Robertson, eds., Maids and Mistresses, Cousins and Queens: Women’s Alliances in Early Modern England (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); and Amanda Herbert, Female Alliances: Gender, Identity, and Friendship in Early Modern Britain (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2014). 105. On female cultural and literary communities within France and beyond, see Julie D. Campbell and Anne R. Larsen, eds., Early Modern Women and Transnational Communities of Letters (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2009), especially contributions by Susan Broomhall, Leah Chang, and Anne R. Larsen.
Introduction 33 out that one does not have to be a Huguenot to be scared in time of war. She is so convincing that one of the guards admits that he, too, fears for his life. Charlotte cites from memory that woman’s words, as if she could still hear them loud and clear: “You know me. I am not a Huguenot. I go to mass every day, but I am so afraid that I have had a fever for eight days now.”106 The story of this Catholic woman joining ranks with a woman presumed to be a Huguenot in response to perceived danger is a tribute to the “honorable woman”107 to whom Charlotte owes her life and to women who act in solidarity despite their differences, whatever these may be. This good woman’s conduct is all the more praiseworthy when compared to that of Charlotte’s own mother, which Mornay reports earlier. Not to disrupt the plain meaning of the text, it is worth noting the unexpected presence of female solidarity in a spiritual guide for a young man raised in the Reformed faith. Against the historical backdrop of the French Wars of Religion—which immediately bring to mind the image of men killing each other, unable or at least unwilling to negotiate the tensions that exist between them—this personal anecdote provides a rather positive image of women: for a brief moment, they are shown to rise above their male counterparts. It must not have been all that uncommon to find help from and maintain friendship with women who did not share the same religious beliefs. In her Journal, Chaufepié acknowledges the support she and her friends received from a Catholic friend after they were imprisoned: “at the pressing request of one of our friends, a Catholic woman, we were moved to a nearby room, ….”108 She notes that in her second prison, “[s]everal papists took pity and visited [them] a few times, showing [them] kindness and charity,”109 and claims that the daughter-in-law of one of the guardians was so impressed by the resilience shown by Anne and her friends that she had to stop visiting them for fear of changing into a Huguenot herself. Chaufepié reports several other instances of assistance among women and even acts of kindness toward her and her best friend by New Converts, Huguenots who had succumbed to reconversion to Catholicism, and by Catholic nuns as well in the various convents where she was placed after being released from prison. New Converts offered her and her friend shelter on their way to La Rochelle, where they hoped to find a ship going to England: “they welcomed us into their homes with much charity, happy to help those who were fortunate enough to persevere in the faith that they themselves had renounced through a signature that was forced upon them by the dragoons.”110 At the first convent where she was placed, she found that the Ursulines were genuinely concerned for her well-being. 106. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:66, and below at 49. 107. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:65, and below at 49. 108. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 61, and below, 63. 109. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 259, and below, 73. 110. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 59, and below, 61.
34 Introduction To “soften the bitterness of her state,” they allowed her little pleasures like taking walks in the gardens or conversing with nuns and other boarders. In the abbey of Arcisses, she found the abbess willing to bend the rules to make Anne’s life a little easier. Interestingly, this nun acted upon her personal conviction that “we must do unto others as we would have done unto ourselves,”111 even at the risk of being severely reprimanded or even punished by her male superior. As Anne was being interrogated and increasing demands were made upon her by male religious, the nuns extended friendship and moral support to her: an older nun, extremely reasonable and wise who had not yet spoken to me, came to see me; taking pity on me, she attempted to make it more bearable and obtained for me—without rousing the suspicions of the clergymen—permission to communicate with all the nuns who desired to see me.The abbess also gave me the freedom to take walks with them or alone whenever I wanted, and to write to my relatives, and to receive letters from them, which I had to show to her as did all the nuns.112 Until the time when word arrived that Huguenots were being expelled from France and Anne appeared to be left behind, the nuns included her in their activities and even came to an agreement that they would no longer speak to her about questions of religion that might trouble her conscience. The nuns saw there “a sure sign of divine will for [Chaufepié’s] change, since God was leaving [her] there while He was taking [her] companions where [she] also would have liked to go.”113 As these examples show, division between the sexes was not always clearly defined. The struggles illustrated here were mostly of women against male authorities, but not all. These stories include as well women who betrayed or failed to help Huguenot women fugitives, and male Catholics who helped them. Also, male Huguenot fugitives struggled against male authorities and were in some instances helped by females. In sum, women united against the common adversary (male or female); their solidarity was prompted by resistance against anyone who presented a danger to them but also compassion for their own kind. Clearly, Chaufepié strongly believed in women’s friendship. The largest part of her journal serves to show how the bonds between women and the strong friendships they maintained in the face of adversity allowed them to rise above persecution and remain true to their faith. Her journal opens with a vivid scene of female friends hunted by dragoons. As Chaufepié attempts to escape together with her aunts and friends, they are caught and taken into custody. It does not 111. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 262, and below, 76. 112. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 262, and below, 76. 113. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 264, and below, 77.
Introduction 35 take long for the prison guards to realize the support they provide for each other, and the resistance they oppose as a group. Chaufepié dwells on the different strategies the guardians employ to pull them apart in the hope that they will become more vulnerable when they find themselves in isolation. Strict orders are given for them to be placed in different cells and to prevent them from communicating with one another: “they thought that, despite the discomfort of the place, we had the consolation of being together, and so they separated us.”114 At times, they are placed with women with whom they are not acquainted or, since they are from the upper class, with women from a lower status or maidservants with whom they would have little in common. At other times, they are isolated in dark, damp, and filthy cells, unable to get any sleep and left to dwell on the uncertainty of their own fate and that of their friends. Considering the number of times Chaufepié mentions the prospect of parting from her friends and the number of farewell scenes included in her journal, one can assume that it was particularly difficult for Anne to be separated from her friends and especially from her best friend, Mademoiselle de Saumaise. These two seemed inseparable. When the relative of Mademoiselle de Saumaise, Bossuet, the famous bishop of Meaux, offers her her freedom in exchange of her conversion to Catholicism, he extends his offer to Anne as well, well aware that this may have some weight on her decision: “I am making the same offer, under the same conditions, to Mademoiselle de Chaufepié, your close friend, and I assure you that I will never cause you to be separated; on the contrary, I will work to unite the two of you in the true Church.”115 The farewell scenes in Chaufepié’s journal are intended to move the reader emotionally, as emotional appeal to the public’s sympathy was a common trait of partisan literature: “It was time for the separation to begin, for which we had already prepared ourselves, but it was an emotional and tearful event.”116 But above all, such scenes are meant to highlight the strong nature of bonds that united Huguenot women and the impact of their friendship on women’s agency: “The farewells that we exchanged were painful, emotionally charged, and restrained all at once; our natural tenderness was supported by the spirit of God, which guided us on this occasion. We courageously followed the path destined for each of us that day.”117 When pulled apart from their friends and subjected to all kinds of pressure (including insults, threats of punishment, interrogations), the weaker ones among them finally succumb and convert. However, the stronger ones find strength in the very thought that their friends will resist as well. Chaufepié cites the response Mademoiselle de Saumaise made to those who interrogated her after 114. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 65, and below, 66. 115. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 65, and below, 67. 116. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 260, and below, 74. 117. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 256, and below, 69.
36 Introduction they tried to instill in her the terror of the judgment that would be made against her: “She responded she feared human justice less than the divine judgment that she would bring upon herself by sinning in such a way against her conscience.”118 Even though we cannot say for sure when or how Chaufepié learned about this— we are told at some point that Anne and her friends were somehow able to exchange “secret notes unbeknownst to [their] guard”119—it is clear that her best friend’s words had a strong impact on her. In reporting these words, Anne wants to make the whole Huguenot community know the brave resistance of her friend and of the seven others including herself who also overcame hardship during the brutal years of the Revocation while remaining united in both their friendship and their faith. By inscribing their names in collective memory, Chaufepié makes sure they receive the special recognition that they deserve: There remained only eight young and one older woman after the given judgment, the rest having succumbed to the fear that had been instilled in them, and having left the faith that they had initially embraced so resolutely. The eight people who persevered until the end are the following: Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert, Mademoiselle de Saumaise, Mademoiselle de la Vergnais, Mademoiselle de Saint-Lorens, Mademoiselle de Boisragon, Mademoiselle du Mas, Mademoiselle de la Pomeraie (née du Perot), Madame de Ruffignac, and myself.120 In sum, in addition to its ideological purpose discussed earlier, Chaufepié’s journal provides a view into women’s friendship in early modern time and the invincible force of women’s bonds when combined with true faith. Du Noyer’s Memoirs bears testimony to the vigorous network put in place by Huguenots. Anne Marguerite’s escape from France and her passage from Geneva to The Hague are made possible thanks to the tight network of allied members of the Reformed faith,121 mainly men in this case. Concerning female solidarity, Du Noyer has a more nuanced view than Chaufepié. This is not to say that she did not value female friendship, but in her experience, not all female relationships were positive, friendly or even worthy of trust; in fact, most of them were not. In her story given here, Du Noyer shows that circumstances made women that way, pitting those in need against those willing to help for profit. In such an atmosphere, no one could be trusted. 118. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 64, and below, 66. 119. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 67, and below, 68. 120. Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 61–63, and below, 64. 121. Regarding the concept of the Huguenot community as an alliance: the term ally is frequently used by Protestant writers to designate those who share religious ties with them.
Introduction 37 That untrustworthiness is exactly what Madame Saporta and Anne Marguerite find in Lyon while they are searching for a guide to take them to Geneva. They fear that they may be betrayed by the Catholic widow and her daughter with whom they are staying. When they think they may have finally found a trustworthy woman who can put them in contact with a reliable guide, they find out that they have been robbed and have been given worthless information. Anne Marguerite attempts to escape by joining a group of women willing to take fugitives to Switzerland through the mountains, but she soon realizes that these women are not to be trusted either and goes back to Lyon. Du Noyer devotes several episodes to the examination of traveling companionship. She finds that women who join to travel together do not necessarily have much in common. Their relationship is based not on choice or affinity, but on chance and the belief that strength lies in numbers. After several unsuccessful attempts to leave Lyon, Anne Marguerite hoped to escape with the daughter of Mademoiselle Durand but she is disillusioned when she finds out that the young woman has chanced escape by herself without even saying a word. Sleeping accommodations seem to have been a constant source of worry for female travelers. A particular episode shows that women reached out to their own kind in times of need or emotional distress. At bedtime, a woman passing for Monsieur Perin’s wife in order to escape, is welcomed by the other women in the group to share their bed after she expresses her discomfort with the sleeping arrangements. In addition to this example of gendered sympathy, Du Noyer describes a funny episode around the bed scene topic. When a young woman joins her traveling group, Anne Marguerite rejoices at the idea of no longer having to share her bed with an elderly woman who has been an annoyance to her. However, getting rid of the old lady proves impossible, and the two young women find themselves in bed with Anne Marguerite’s old bedmate between them. Early modern women found themselves bound by a variety of situations, among them three in particular given the evidence of these three women’s writings: perceived common danger; friendship and faith; and travel. As such, women did share crucial moments of their lives with one another. Religiously-inspired friendships led to particularly strong alliances between women; they also had an impact on women’s agency and the construction of female identities that were communal rather than individualized. • In conclusion, this volume illustrates the variety of the Huguenot experience during the bloodiest times in the history of Protestantism—the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, the dragonnades, the Huguenot exodus after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes—by taking as examples three women who came from different
38 Introduction social classes, familial backgrounds, and walks of life, and who lived in various parts of France: Paris, Sedan, and the provinces of Poitou and Languedoc where the Reformed movement had gained ground. At the time evoked in the first part of her story, Mornay was a young widow with a young child; in the second, she was married for the second time with three additional adult children; as they escaped from France, Chaufepié and Du Noyer were young women not yet married. As such, the three of them experienced the wars that ravaged their areas in different ways: as wives, widows, mothers, daughters, sisters and friends. All three had to overcome a number of challenges and material, economic, and emotional hardships in order to save their lives and remain constant in their faith. Persecution and exile were crucial aspects of these women’s experiences and consequently their identities. Mornay and Chaufepié appeared especially preoccupied with spiritual life, their own and that of their close ones, and the impact of confessional differences on interpersonal relationships. Finally, although literary genres have not been the focus of this introduction, this volume provides interesting glimpses into the autobiographical writings that appeared at the time when Protestantism was implanted in France. Taking Chaufepié’s text as an example, further study could be done on the “journal” and its complex relationship to other forms of personal literature like the mother’s legacy, the livre de raison, or conduct book, and the memoir. Mornay’s and Du Noyer’s memoirs are strikingly different and could be used to trace the evolution of the memoir genre from the way it was originally conceived and practiced by men (even though Mornay speaks about her own life, the main focus of her memoir remains that of the Huguenot leader) to the more personal feminine genre that prevailed in the seventeenth century. Du Noyer’s memoir is certainly a most compelling testimony to this emerging female literary tradition and women’s literary creativity.
Note on the Translation The texts translated here are still largely unavailable outside the narrow circle of French specialists. To give the reader a sense of the special qualities of these writings, the editors have selected substantial passages that constitute a whole or stand on their own. The bracketed page numbers in the texts, corresponding to the pagination of the base texts used in this translation, will assist readers who wish to consult the originals. The selections from Mémoires de Madame de Mornay have been translated from the Witt edition (1:58–71; 2:102–11), which is based on the most complete and authentic manuscript that is known: Ms. 360 preserved at the Bibliothèque de la Sorbonne in Paris. These passages from Mornay are the only texts in this volume which have previously been translated, by Lucy Crump, who offers a complete
Introduction 39 translation of the Memoirs, but it is at times inaccurate and the expression is quite dated.122 Patricia Francis Cholakian’s translation only comprises the first selection included here.123 While this translation is noteworthy, Cholakian’s style tends to detract the reader from the overall comprehension of Mornay’s story. Several passages require further explanation to ensure understanding (“The little wealth I had was seized because of the troubles” [228]; “I would have preferred to throw myself down…”[230]). In addition, the register that Cholakian chooses does not effectively convey the gravity of certain situations (“I was not too concerned at first” [229]). Anne de Chaufepié’s Journal is translated from the transcription of the original manuscript, Ms. 4681–2, in the Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 6 (1857): 57–68 and 256–68. Finally, the selections from Du Noyer’s Mémoires have been translated from the third printed edition which is today readily available on Google books: Mémoires de Madame Du Noyer (Amsterdam: Par la Compagnie, 1760), 104–28 and 146–69. Our primary objective has been comprehensibility and readability while bringing the twenty-first century reader as close as reasonably possible to the experience of reading the original text. Each text presents its own difficulties but Mornay’s convoluted prose is by far the most challenging of all to render into English. Many sentences are lengthy and cumulative, spreading at times over a half-page long paragraph, and building through four to five subordinate clauses to the main clause. Loose syntax tends to be confusing to readers who lose track of the point before they arrive at the end of the sentence. When loose sentences build through a succession of relative clauses, the antecedent of the relativizer (relative pronoun) tends to get lost, and meaning becomes unclear. The following passage exemplifies a case of excessive subordination at the expense of clarity: Le régiment ne fut point demandé pour luy, // encor que nous envoyasmes sa depesche à nostre nepveu de Vaucelas, mestre de camp du régiment de Piedmont, lors près du Roy à Limoges, // parcequ’ une dépesche de madame de Rohan prévint, // laissée à Paris en passant par le mesme laquais, // qui dépescha en poste pour le faire demander au Roy par M. de Rohan pour M. de Soubize son frère, // et lequel touteffois, // bien qu’octroyé par S.M., // ne l’eut point, // parceque M. de Rosny, // prétendant la promesse faicte au sieur de 122. A Huguenot Family in the Sixteenth Century: The Memoirs of Philip de Mornay, Sieur du PlessisMarly, Written by His Wife, trans. Lucy Crump (London: Routledge; New York: E. P. Dutton, 1927), 120–30 and 283–85. 123. Excerpt from Mémoires de Madame de Mornay, translated by Patricia Francis Cholakian, in Writings by Pre-Revolutionary French Women: From Marie de France to Elizabeth Vigée-Le Brun, ed. Anne R. Larsen and Colette H. Winn (New York: Garland, 2000), 225–36.
40 Introduction Béthune, son cousin, par les Estaz, // luy fit confirmer par S.M., // qui à la vérité, l’avoit jà mérité par service faict à iceux, // et avoit esté pris et blessé en ceste mesme charge. For readability’s sake, we divided this extremely convoluted sentence into several small units, and tried to make clear the proper relation between clauses, antecedents and relative pronouns, even if this meant changing the order of clauses, adding a few words of explanation or repeating a personal name. We sent a dispatch to our nephew M. de Vaucelas, who was head of the Piedmont regiment and, while in Limoges, had been in close proximity to the king. But our son’s request was never presented to the king, due to a dispatch from Madame de Rohan having arrived in Paris first; it was promptly delivered by the same lackey as he passed through on his way to our home. By way of this dispatch, Monsieur de Rohan requested the same regiment for his brother, Monsieur de Soubize. Although it was granted to him by His Majesty, Monsieur de Soubize did not obtain it either, because of Monsieur de Rosny’s claim that the regiment had been promised by the Dutch EstatesGeneral to his cousin, the sieur de Béthune. Upon Monsieur de Rosny’s request, His Majesty confirmed this to the lord de Béthune, who in truth had already proven that he deserved it by the service he had rendered to the Estates-General, during which he had been injured and taken prisoner. (104–105) Other difficulties encountered in Mornay’s text concern the occasionally unclear usage of personal pronouns like “ils” or “on,” and a few elliptical sentences where again the relations between the main clause and the following present participle phrases had to be clarified and the thought fleshed out to be fully understood as in the following example: Tout l’esté s’y passa les armées du Prince Maurice et du marquis de Spinola tranchées l’une devant l’autre, les logis plus avancez à moins de deux cens pas, se saluant tout le jour de coups de canon, l’une couvrant l’Escluse et l’autre Bruges sans autre chose entreprendre. During the entire summer, the armies of Prince Maurice and Marquis Spinola were entrenched face to face, hardly two hundred paces apart in some places, saluting each other with cannon fire throughout the day, and without much else happening. One army was occupying the Escluse and the other, Bruges. (102)
Introduction 41 In the next example, the elliptical construction was again eliminated for readability’s sake: Heureuse fin à luy né en l’Eglize de Dieu, eslevé en sa crainte, remarqué en cest âage de tant de vertu, en une juste querelle, en une action honorable. For our son, this was the best way to go, born as he was in the church of God, raised to fear Him; he was recognized for his worth at such a young age, ultimately sacrificing himself for a righteous struggle and an honorable cause. (106) The most remarkable features of Chaufepié and Du Noyer both are long winding sentences with excessive use of apposition and particularly the present participle. For the sake of readability, we frequently cut these long sentences into shorter units. Another recurrent challenge of such sentences comes from the unclear logical relations between each clause with contradictory or unlikely implications. As a result, we sometimes had to change the order of clauses within longer sentences in order to clarify causality. To avoid the proliferation of footnotes identifying places or values of currency, distance, or weight, that information is placed in the backmatter of this volume in a Glossary of Places and a Table of Currencies and Values, along with a Chronology juxtaposing general events with events in the lives of our three authors, and an Appendix summarizing the testimonial literature written by Huguenot women.
Madame de Mornay, Memoirs (1584–1606) Part One: The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre Mornay’s memoir primarily recounts the life of Philippe Duplessis-Mornay, the great Huguenot diplomat and leader, but it also describes what it means for a woman of that time to be a Huguenot and to be married to an eminent Huguenot. The selection translated here illustrates how she experienced the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. From Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 1:58–71.
[58] I was nineteen and spending all my time in Sedan,1 terribly saddened by the fact that I was away from home, with no money and an infinite number of concerns. While there, I learned of the death of my father, Monsieur de la Borde,2 and received news from my sister, who was not yet married,3 of the death of my father-in-law Monsieur de Feuquères.4 Because of the religious strife, the few possessions I had were seized,5 and at the moment of Monsieur de Feuquères’ death, I did not receive a single penny.6 In the midst of so much distress, God sent friends my way and pulled me out of my troubles. But from that time on, I was almost always ill, and most of the doctors who treated me diagnosed me with some kind of melancholia.7
1. After her marriage in 1567 to Jean de Pas, seigneur of Feuquères or Feuquières, Charlotte was sent by her husband to Sedan, which had become, under the power of Henri-Robert de La Marck, an important Huguenot stronghold and refuge. This is where their daughter was born. For more on the principality of Sedan during that time see Mark W. Konnert, Local Politics in the French Wars of Religion (Aldershot, Hants., UK: Ashgate, 2006), 29–30 and 72–74. 2. Guy II Arbaleste de la Borde, vicomte of Melun, and seigneur of la Borde, died on August 15, 1570. 3. The syntax makes the precise meaning unclear, but the fact that Marie Arbaleste, Charlotte’s sister, was not yet married (she was married to Jacques de Cochefilet, seigneur of Vaucelas on June 10, 1567) indicates that she was able to inform Charlotte only of her father-in-law’s death, which occurred in 1566, and not of their father’s, since it happened in 1570. 4. Jacques de Pas, father of Louis and Jean de Pas, died in 1566. He was a military man who spent most of his career in the gendarmerie company of Jean II d’Humières. See David Potter, War and Government in the French Provinces: Picardy, 1470–1560 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 304–5. 5. On the role Huguenot women played in defending family estates from attack, see Eurich, “Women in the Huguenot Communities.” 6. Jean de Pas, the younger son of Jacques de Pas, was to inherit the seigneurie of Martinsart. 7. In early modern times, a melancholic disposition was thought to be caused either by the scorching or putrefaction of body fluids or by an excess of black bile. It was associated with both physical symptoms (loss of appetite, sleeplessness, restlessness) and mental symptoms (a depressed mood,
43
44 MADAME DE MORNAY With peace being reestablished,8 I came to Paris at the command of my mother,9 Mademoiselle de la Borde. I remained there after the settlement of my deceased father’s estate to put my daughter’s affairs in order, and I was still there when the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre took place. [59] In order to distract myself from my concerns and to take care of my health, I hoped to go spend the winter at my sister Mademoiselle de Vaucelas’ home, and because I was supposed to leave the Monday after St. Bartholomew’s Day, I wanted to go to the Louvre on Sunday to say my farewells to the princess of Conti,10 Madame de Bouillon,11 the marquise of Rothelin,12 and Madame de Dampierre.13 But as I was still in bed, one of my kitchen maids, a Huguenot woman who had just returned from the city, came running in, terribly frightened, and told me that everyone was being killed. This reality did not immediately hit me, but after getting dressed and looking through the window onto Rue St. Antoine where I was staying, I saw all the people in the street in disarray, as well as several guards, each one with a white cross14 on his hat. At that moment I realized the gravity of the situation: in order to find out what was happening, I sent someone to my mother’s where my brothers were staying. Because my brothers had embraced the Reformed faith, they were extremely pensiveness, extreme sadness, and despair). See Stanley W. Jackson, Melancholia and Depression: From Hippocratic Times to Modern Times (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1986). 8. The peace of Saint-Germain-en-Laye on August 8, 1570, ending the third of the French Wars of Religion. 9. Daughters were to answer to their mothers, even after they were married and had gone away from home. See Anne de France, Lessons for My Daughter, ed. and trans. Sharon L. Jansen (Rochester, NY: D. S. Brewer, 2004), chapter 16. 10. The first woman to bear this title was Jeanne de Coesme (1560–1601) who married in 1581 the first prince of Conti, François de Bourbon-Condé (1558–1614), third son of the Huguenot leader Louis I de Bourbon, prince of Condé, and Éléonore de Roye. The latter was sometimes referred to as dame de Conti, but she died in 1564. 11. Françoise de Bourbon, duchess of Bouillon (1539–1587), wife of Henri-Robert de La Marck, duke of Bouillon and prince of Sedan, who had embraced the new faith after the Massacre of Vassy in March 1562. 12. Catherine de Rohan, marquise of Rothelin (1520–1586), widow of François d’Orléans-Longueville, marquis of Rothelin, maid of honor to Queen Éléonore and lady of honor to Catherine de Médicis. She was imprisioned in 1567 for harboring Huguenots in her château at Blandy in Brie. 13. Claude-Catherine de Clermont-Tonnerre, lady of Dampierre, countess and duchess of Retz (1543– 1608), widow of Jean d’Annebaut, baron of Retz, then married to Albert de Conti, duke of Retz, who became marshal of France in 1573, lady-in-waiting to Catherine de Médicis. She held one of the most illustrious literary salons of the time. 14. Once the killing began on the night of the St. Bartholomew Massacre, white crosses, pinned to the clothing or stuck in the hats of Parisian Catholics, served to distinguish them from the Huguenots. See Mack P. Holt, The French Wars of Religion, 1562–1629, 2nd ed. (Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 90.
Memoirs (1584–1606) 45 uneasy. My maternal uncle Pierre Chevalier, bishop of Senlis,15 advised that I set aside my most prized possessions and said that he would send for me as soon as possible; but just as he was about to do so, he heard that his brother Monsieur Charles Chevalier, seigneur of Esprunes and a fervent Huguenot, had been killed on Rue Bétisy where he had been staying to be close to the Admiral.16 That caused [60] my uncle to forget all about me. Moreover, when he went out in the street, he was stopped. Had they not seen him make the sign of the cross (because he had no knowledge of our [Huguenot] faith), his life would have been in danger. After waiting half an hour for him and seeing that the commotion was growing more violent on Rue St. Antoine, I sent my three-and-a-half-year-old daughter in the arms of a servant to the home of Monsieur de Perreuze, who was master of requests in the king’s household and one of my closest relatives and friends; he had my daughter enter through the back door, greeted her and sent word that if I wanted to come and stay as well, I would be welcome in his home; I accepted his offer and went there, the seventh of his guests. He was not yet aware of all that had happened; but having sent one of his servants to the Louvre, he received word of the deaths of the Admiral17 as well as countless nobles and gentlemen, and learned that the sedition was spreading throughout the entire city. By that time, it was eight o’clock in the morning. No sooner had I left my house than the servants of [Henri I of Lorraine,] the duke of Guise entered, called for my host to find me, and searched for me everywhere. Finally, unable to find me, they sent someone to my mother’s home with an offer: if I consented to giving them one hundred écus, they would allow me to keep both my life and my possessions. My mother sent someone to Monsieur de Perreuze’s home to inform me on the matter; but after giving it some thought, I found it unwise to reveal my whereabouts or to go to them myself. Therefore, I begged my mother to pay the sum and to pretend that she [61] did not know what had become of me. Since no one had received word from me, my dwelling was pillaged. Many took refuge at Monsieur de Perreuze’s home, including Monsieur and Madame des Landres, Mademoiselle du Plessis-Bourdelot, Mademoiselle de Chaufreau, Monsieur de Matho and all of their families. There were more than forty of us hiding out at Monsieur de Perreuze’s home. In order to remove all suspicion from his house, he was forced to send for supplies from the other side of town. He and 15. Pierre Chevalier de la Borde, bishop of Senlis from September 19, 1561 to October 30, 1583. 16. “The Admiral” Gaspard de Coligny; see above, Introduction, note 8. 17. Coligny was killed in his lodgings by a man called Besme who had been brought up as a domestic in the Guise family. Coligny’s body was thrown out of a window to the ground below, where an angry mob cut off his head and his hands. The mutilated body was then dragged through the streets of Paris. Coligny was portrayed by his coreligionists as a martyr of a premeditated plot to eradicate the Protestant movement. See John Foxe in Fox’s Book of Martyrs: A History of the Lives, Sufferings, and Triumphant Deaths of the Early Christian and the Protestant Martyrs, ed. William Byron Forbush (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1967), 48–50.
46 MADAME DE MORNAY his wife also had to remain at the front door to exchange words with Monsieur de Guise,18 Monsieur de Nevers,19 and other lords as they passed back and forth, and also with the Parisian captains who were looting the neighboring houses. We remained there until Tuesday; Monsieur de Perreuze eventually became a subject of suspicion, and an order was issued for his house to be searched on Tuesday after dinner. The majority of those who had taken refuge there had gone elsewhere, and the only guests who remained were the now deceased Mademoiselle de Chaufreau and myself. Monsieur de Perreuze was forced to hide us, Mademoiselle de Chaufreau with her maid in a woodshed outside, me with one of my ladies in a hollow gable; the rest of our people were disguised20 and hidden as best as they could be. From that space at the top of the attic, I could hear [62] some of the most disturbing screams of men, women and children being massacred in the streets. With my daughter downstairs, I became so desperate that, if not for my fear of offending God, I would have rather thrown myself from the top of the building than fall into the hands of the mob and see my daughter massacred, which I feared more than my own death. One of my servants carried her in her arms, braving all these dangers to take her to the home of Marie Guillard, lady of Esprunes, my maternal grandmother, who at the time was still alive. My daughter remained there until my grandmother died. That same Tuesday afternoon, the warmly remembered President de la Place21 was killed on the Vieille Rue du Temple where Monsieur de Perreuze lived; his assassins pretended that they were taking him to the king in order to save his life. As threats became more tangible, Monsieur de Perreuze enlisted the help of Monsieur de Thou,22 the king’s advocate and the current president of the Parlement of Paris, to save our lives and his house. With things calming down slightly, we thought of disguising ourselves and getting out. I could not go to my mother’s house, because there were guards there; I went instead to the home of 18. Henri I de Lorraine, duke of Guise (1550–1588), one of the leaders of the Catholic party suspected of being behind Coligny’s assassination. He distinguished himself at the battles of Saint-Denis, Jarnac, and Moncontour, and later on formed the Catholic League. 19. Louis de Gonzague, duke of Nevers (1539–1595), often seen as one of the main actors behind the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. 20. In order to escape persecution, Huguenots were in disguise, “men as women, gentlemen and their wives as peasants or servants.” See Treasure, The Huguenots, ix. 21. Pierre de La Place (ca. 1520–1572), first president of the court of aid, killed a few days after the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. His body, placed in a stable, was desecrated by horse dung. See Fox’s Book of Martyrs, 63–68. 22. Jacques Auguste de Thou (1553–1617), president of the Parlement of Paris, eminent Latinist and historiographer often seen as a pioneer for his scientific and unbiased approach to history, author of Mémoires de la vie de Jacques-Auguste de Thou (Memoirs of the Life of Jacques Auguste de Thou) and of the Historia sui temporis (History of His Own Time). He served both Kings Henri III and Henri IV and negotiated the 1598 Edict of Nantes with representatives of the Protestants.
Memoirs (1584–1606) 47 a blacksmith who had married one of her chambermaids, a seditious man who was captain of his quarter. I had hoped [63] that having received kindnesses from my mother, he would do me no harm. My mother came to see me there that night, paralyzed by fear and more dead than alive. I spent that night at this blacksmith’s home, seeing the loot brought in that had been found in Huguenot homes, and hearing nothing but slander against Huguenots. He told me in the most forceful manner that I needed to go to mass. On Wednesday morning, my mother sent someone to the home of President Tambonneau and his mother-inlaw Mademoiselle Morin, who was still alive, to see if I could take refuge there. In the afternoon, I left alone, and because I did not know how to get there, I followed a little boy who was walking in front of me. They were staying at the Abbey of Notre Dame; and the only ones who knew that I would be staying there were Mademoiselle Morin, mother–in-law of the Grand Chancellor of France, [Michel] de l’Hospital,23 President Tambonneau and his wife, and their brother Monsieur de Paray, and one of their servants named Jacques Minier. I entered the home secretly and I stayed in President Tambonneau’s study, where I remained all of Wednesday and until Thursday night. But on Thursday evening, President Tambonneau and his mother-in-law suspected that their house might be searched for their ally24 Monsieur de Chaumont Barbezieux and their sister, Madame de Belesbat. They feared that in searching for them, they would find me and thought it best that I leave. I left around midnight between Thursday and Friday, and was taken to the home of a grain merchant who was a trusted servant of President Tambonneau. I remained there for five days, assisted by President Tambonneau and his wife, with whom I share family ties. [64] The entire household showed me so much kindness that there will never be a day in my life that I will not feel obliged to them. The following Tuesday, my mother Mademoiselle de la Borde, after having caught her breath, sent my brothers to mass in order to save their lives. She thought of saving me in the same way and had our cousin Monsieur de Paroy speak to me about it several times, but he failed to convince me to go to church. My mother tried as well to make me change my mind but in vain. By Wednesday morning, since she had received no response from me other than a plea to help me escape from Paris, she alerted me that she would be forced to send back my daughter to me. The only response that I could give was that—if it must be so—I would take my daughter in my arms and, if we were killed, at least we would be together; but at the same time, I resolved to leave Paris no matter what my future 23. Michel de L’Hospital (1507–1573), Grand Chancellor of France (1560–1568), favorable to unity of religion and a policy of toleration toward the Huguenots, as his works demonstrate: for example, his Memoires sur la necessité de mettre un terme à la guerre civile (Notes on the Necessity of Putting an End to the Civil War), 1570. 24. ally: a coreligionist; see above, Introduction, note 121.
48 MADAME DE MORNAY held, and asked the servant who had delivered my mother’s message to go find a seat for me aboard the Corbillard,25 or some other boat traveling up the Seine River. The time that I spent at the grain merchant’s home was not without difficulty; I was staying in a room above Madame de Foissy’s, which prevented me from being able to walk around the room or from [65] lighting a candle, for fear of being discovered by her or the other neighbors. The chambermaid who brought me something to eat had to hide it in an apron and pretend that she was coming for Madame de Foissy’s linen. Finally, on Wednesday, the eleventh day after the massacre, around eleven o’clock in the morning, I left the dwelling and got onto a boat that was going to Sens. The man I mentioned earlier refused to reserve a seat for me on the Corbillard under the pretext that someone might recognize me. On the boat going to Sens, I found myself in the company of two friars, a priest, and two merchants with their wives. As we arrived in Tournelles, there were guards who stopped the boat and demanded our passports;26 everyone showed their passports except for me, as I did not have one. They began to call me a Huguenot, saying that I ought to be drowned, and they forced me off boat. I begged them to take me to the home of Monsieur de Voysenon, a friend of mine and the account auditor in charge of the affairs of my deceased grandmother, Mademoiselle d’Esprunes. I assured them that Monsieur de Voysenon, who was a fervent Roman Catholic, would vouch for me. Two soldiers took me and brought me to his house. By God’s grace, they remained at the door and let me go up alone; I found poor Monsieur de Voysenon quite confused, and even though I was still in disguise, he kept calling me “Mademoiselle”27 and told me about several women who were hiding out in his home. I told him that I had no 25. A passage-boat going from Paris to Corbeil, a town at the confluence of the Seine and Essonne rivers. In the Middle Ages, Paris relied on several ports for its supply of food and building materials, including Corbeil-Essonnes. The goods were transported in flat-bottomed vessels usually painted black and named after the place where they came from: “Corbeillards.” During the plague epidemic, these same boats served to evacuate the dead and their name was then distorted by the Parisians in “Corbillard,” a term subsequently used by all French speakers to designate a hearse. See Alain Arcq, “Corbeillard ou corbillard,” . 26. An authorization or safe-conduct document was required in time of hostilities to circulate within the country (i.e., to pass through the gate of a city wall, a territory or a port). On the role of passports in the governance of mobility in early modern France, see Daniel Nordman, “Sauf-conduits et passeports: Royaume de France, XVIe–XVIIIe siècle,” in Dictionnaire de l’Ancien Régime, ed. Lucien Bély (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1996), 1122–24, and “Sauf-conduits et passeports, en France, à la Renaissance,” in Voyager à la Renaissance: Actes du Colloque de Tours, 30 juin–13 juillet 1983, ed. Jean Céard and Jean-Claude Margolin (Paris: Maisonneuve et Larose, 1987), 145–58. 27. In Middle French, “Mademoiselle” was a term of respect that could refer to a woman of the upper class or the bourgeoisie, whether wed or unwed. “Madame” usually referred to a woman from the high nobility or the royal family.
Memoirs (1584–1606) 49 time to hear such things, because I thought the soldiers were following me, and that it seemed that God wanted him to help save my life, [66] and that otherwise I thought I would die. He went downstairs and found the soldiers, whom he assured that he had seen me at the home of Mademoiselle d’Esprunes who had a son who was the bishop in Senlis, that they were good Catholics and known for being such. The soldiers replied firmly that they were not inquiring about the d’Esprunes, but about me. He told them that in the past he had known me to be a good Catholic, but that he could not say whether or not I had remained that way. At that moment arrived an honorable woman who asked them what they wanted to do with me; they told her, “By God, she is a Huguenot who ought to be drowned, one can tell by the way she is terrified,” and in truth, I thought that they were going to throw me in the river. She responded, “You know me. I am not a Huguenot. I go to mass every day, but I am so afraid that I have had a fever for eight days now.” One of the soldiers responded, “By God, I too have such fear that it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.” They put me back on the boat, telling me that if I had been a man, I never would have escaped at such a bargain. At the same time that I was arrested on the boat, the dwelling I had just left was searched; if I had been found there, my life would have been in great danger. We embarked on our trip and night came as we arrived at a place called the Little Laborde. All evening the monks and merchants spoke only of their joy over what they had seen in Paris, and whenever I ventured a word, they told me that I sounded like a Huguenot. The only thing I could do was pretend to be asleep so that I did not have to respond to them. When I got off the boat, I saw Minier who had been sent by President Tambonneau’s wife to find out what had become of me. She was worried when she learned that I had been arrested. Minier signaled to me that I should pretend not to know him, but since it was he who had delivered the messages that my mother had sent me, and who had reserved a seat for me on the boat, he was recognized by the women on the boat with me. I found a way to communicate with him without the others discovering our connection. When he entered the area where we were, he told me that my mistress had sent him to help with the grape harvests. At supper, he sat down at the table, cheerfully calling me by my name, Charlotte, to serve him a drink; this eliminated any suspicion that they had of me. In this inn there was only one room with three beds in it: the two monks and the priest slept in one, the two merchants in the other, and the two women and I in the third. This was risky, for I was wearing an embroidered chemise of fine cloth from Holland28 that President Tambonneau’s 28. This detail is quite important, for only a woman from the upper class would wear a chemise of fine imported fabric trimmed with decorative embroidery. Many embroidery pattern books were published at the time for upper-class women who enjoyed fine clothing. See Niccolò Zoppino [Niccolò d’ Aristotile], Gli vniversali de i belli recami antichi, e moderni (Venice: F. Ongania, 1537), and Cesare Vecellio, Corona delle nobili et virtuose donne … nel quale si dimostra in varij dissegni tutte le sorti di mostre di punti tagliati …, 2 vols. (Venice: appresso Cesare Vecellio, 1591).
50 MADAME DE MORNAY wife had lent me. I feared that while in bed between these two women, this attire would reveal my true identity. On Thursday morning, as we got back on the boat, Minier refused to do so, insisting that it caused him to feel unwell. But he whispered to me to be careful not to go to Corbeil nor to Melun where we had our estates, for fear that someone might recognize me and that I would risk falling into danger. Instead, he thought I should get off at the village of Ivry, just a short distance from Corbeil. When I saw the village, I [68] asked the boatman to let me off, which he refused to do; but, by God’s grace, as we were facing the village, the boat ran aground, forcing us all to get off. After paying the boatman, Minier and I went to the village of Ivry, where he resolved to take me to Bouschet—a house that belonged to President Tambonneau and was a short distance away, near the home of the Chancellor de L’Hospital—and placed me in the home of his wine cultivator. Altogether we walked more than a dozen miles on foot, and after leaving me with this good fellow, Minier left for Vallegrand where the chancellor lived, to learn if there was a way that I could stay with the wife of the chancellor; but he found them all in great dismay, since the king had sent an important garrison to the home of the chancellor under the pretext of protecting him. The wife of the chancellor had already been forced to go to mass. Through Minier, the chancellor offered to let me stay in his home; however, I could not stay there without going to mass, which he did not think I wanted to do, considering how determined I had been to leave Paris and all of its dangers. I stayed two weeks with the wine cultivator and Minier returned to Paris. Unfortunately, as soon as I arrived [69] in Bouschet, the Swiss Army of Queen Elizabeth29 overturned the entire village in search of Huguenots; but, by God’s grace, they did not enter the house where I was staying because it was being guarded. The presence of the Swiss Army provided me with an excuse not to leave the house as long as I was there, and not to be forced to go to mass even though there was a procession of the whole parish. The poor wine cultivator was devastated at the thought that so many of his neighbors had been murdered and massacred, noting that there were not such charitable, nor more honorable people than they. He always allowed me to say blessings and grace in French, and thought I was the servant of President Tambonneau’s wife, as Minier had told him. After some time, I wanted to leave for Brie and see what I could become there; I borrowed a donkey from the wine cultivator and begged him to take me there, which he did. We crossed the Seine between Corbeil and Melun, at a place called Saint Port, and we arrived in Esprunes, to the house belonging to my deceased grandmother. When I arrived there, the house servants embraced me warmly, saying “Mademoiselle, we 29. Elizabeth of Austria (1554–1592), daughter of Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian II and Maria of Spain, and queen of France between 1570 and 1574 by her marriage to Charles IX, by which marriage an alliance was established between the Empire and France.
Memoirs (1584–1606) 51 thought you were dead.” The poor wine cultivator was dumbfounded, asking me if I was indeed a “demoiselle.” As he left, he offered to let me hide in his home so that I would not have to go to mass. He apologized for my having had to sleep in the large bed;30 then he [70] left and I stayed in Esprunes for two weeks. I do not want to forget to mention that a chaplain from the area who was staying in Melun came to see me, and said so as to console me: “Since God’s judgment begins in His house, the wicked and unrighteous should have great fear.” [70] After two weeks, I got back on my donkey and journeyed about ten miles from there to the home of my elder brother, Monsieur de la Borde. I found him deeply perplexed, both for having been forced to go to mass in order to save his life and for being constantly urged to renounce his faith ever since. Our friends in Paris, knowing that I was there and fearing that I would prevent my brother from abjuring, cautioned him that he would be ruined if he kept me at his house without my going to mass. Consequently, on Sunday, he took me to his chapel, where a Catholic priest was about to lead mass. As soon as I saw the priest, I turned my back on him and left in tears, which made my brother wish that he had never spoken to me about abjuring. I decided that I would not stay with him any longer, all the more because when I left Paris I only had fifteen silver coins in my purse, and none of the clothes I was wearing belonged to me31 because I had had to disguise myself. I spent the week looking for a wagon driver to take me to Sedan. Of the 1500 francs that were owed to me there, I received forty écus. During my stay at Laborde, one of my chambermaids and one of my other servants came to find me. I revealed my plan to my brother which he found to be very dangerous, but he still helped me convince the wagon driver to take me, since he was initially unwilling to do so; my brother begged me, however, [71] to keep it a secret from my mother and our other friends that he had known of my leaving, since he feared that his actions would anger them. In his farewell, he assured me that considering my religious zeal, God would bless my voyage and my person; by the grace of God, this is what happened. On the first of November, All Saints Day, I arrived in Sedan without any difficulty or trouble on the way; and upon my arrival in this city, I found many friends who offered me all that they had. I had not been yet an hour in Sedan before I was dressed as a demoiselle; each friend helped me in his own way. I also received much honor and friendship from the duke and duchess of Bouillon.32 I remained in Sedan until my marriage to Monsieur du Plessis. 30. Lower-class families often had one bed and slept all together. See Joseph P. Byrne, The World of Renaissance Italy: A Daily Life Encyclopedia, 2 vols. (Santa Barbara, CA: Greenwood, 2017), 2:355. 31. According to Lougee, Facing the Revocation, 169, this circumstance of the fugitive falling into poverty is rather common in Huguenot escape memoirs. 32. Henri Robert de La Marck (1539–1574), duke of Bouillon, prince of Sedan, and his wife, Françoise de Bourbon-Vendôme (ca. 1539–1587) professed the Reformed faith openly and, in 1560, declared Sedan’s independence from the kingdom of France.
Part Two: The Death of Her Son Philippe33 Mornay wrote her memoir so that their son Philippe would always have his father’s example before his eyes. When the young Philippe died in October 1606 while defending the Huguenot cause, there was no reason for her to continue writing. The last passage of her memoir is meant to honor Philip’s memory and brings her writing project to a close.
[102] I left my poor son in Dieppe, where he embarked for the Netherlands. During the entire summer, the armies of Prince Maurice34 and Marquis Spinola35 were entrenched face to face, hardly two hundred paces apart in some places, saluting each other with cannon fire throughout the day, and without much else happening. One army was occupying the Escluse and the other, Bruges. My son grew tired of inaction, even though he seized every possible occasion of risking his life. Soon afterwards, he developed a tertian fever,36 which greatly worried those who cared for him; in September, the fever disappeared, [103] and even though he was still weak, he followed Prince Maurice’s army, as they left their entrenchments to block Spinola. Spinola had left his own entrenchments to make his way to Frise in the hopes of carrying out several initiatives. His first exploit was the taking of Olderzed, a small place; then Linghen, a more significant victory. Spinola expected Linghen to hold out until help arrived, but it was poorly defended by the Frisons’ regiment that guarded it. Linghen’s capture was a real threat for the important town of Groninghe, but the Count William of Nassau, governor of the province, and his troops hurried to relieve the siege, and our son, whom William held in high esteem, joined forces with him. This impeded Spinola’s progress. Then Count William came to join Prince Maurice at Wesel and Conworden, where the army was horribly afflicted by sickness. On the ninth of October, the prince left his camp with all of his cavalry and part of his infantry, brought by horse-drawn wagon, to destroy the enemy’s cavalry under the command of Marquis Trivulzio37 from Milan. As misfortune would have it, our son 33. Mornay, Mémoires, ed. Witt, 2:102–111. 34. Maurice of Nassau, prince of Orange; see above, Introduction, note 99. 35. Ambrogio Spinola (1569–1630), Genoese nobleman who served as general for the Spanish crown, Knight of the Golden Fleece, one of the greatest military commanders of his time, and opponent of Maurice of Nassau. See John Lothrop Motley, History of the United Netherlands: From the Death of William the Silent to the Synod of Dort (Rotterdam: J. G. Robbers, 1872), chapter 44, 1104–15. 36. A variety of bilious fever occurring every third day and accompanied by abdominal pain and vomiting. On the different varieties of tertian fevers see Ambroise Paré, “Des fievres” [Of Fevers], in Œuvres complètes, ed. J.-F. Malgaigne (Paris: J.-B. Baillière, 1840–1841), vol. 3, chapters 18–24. 37. Gian Giacomo Teodoro Trivulzio (1596/97–1656), Milanese aristocrat who held high offices under King Philip III of Spain, who then entered the church following the death of his wife in 1620, and
53
54 MADAME DE MORNAY was unable to go because two days prior, while chasing an enemy convoy, he was kicked in the ankle by a horse that was led by hand. Though there was a great deal of bruising and inflammation, he insisted on going on this expedition, and his comrades carried him. While the two armies clashed, there were killings and retreats on both sides, and while some won honor, [104] others received shame, and there remained only two hundred men in total. However much our son tried to hide it in his letters, we could read between the lines how disappointed he was to have missed, due to his unfortunate accident, the only battle of any importance that had taken place. We knew then that he would not return home before he had had another such opportunity. Lord Dommarville, one of the French colonels, had been killed in battle while retreating. Because of the good rapport our son had with most of the captains, he thought he could have them request this regiment for him from the king;38 not that he believed that he would obtain it, because he himself thought that the lord of Béthune deserved it more than he, but he hoped to be remembered and hopefully be called upon should another such fighting opportunity present itself. He sent to us a dispatch through a lackey expressly about that matter. This made us even more uneasy because, whatever words he used to reassure us, we did not quite believe him, and we imagined that he would go far away for a long time should his request to the king be granted; and indeed, in this dispatch, as opposed to his previous letters, it was no longer a question of returning home. For three months, he had given us hope for his return, waiting only for us to tell him which road he should take, a decision we had left to his discretion, but we recommended that he see the king upon his return to tell him about his voyage. We sent a dispatch to our nephew Monsieur de Vaucelas, who was head of the Piedmont regiment and, while in Limoges, had been in close proximity to the king. But our son’s request was never presented to the king, due to a dispatch from Madame de Rohan having arrived in Paris first; it was promptly delivered [105] by the same lackey as he passed through on his way to our home. By way of this dispatch, Monsieur de Rohan requested the same regiment for his own brother, Monsieur de Soubize. Although it was granted to him by His Majesty, Monsieur de Soubize did not obtain it either, because of Monsieur de Rosny’s claim that the regiment had been promised by the Dutch Estates-General to his cousin, the lord of Béthune. Upon Monsieur de Rosny’s request, His Majesty confirmed this to became cardinal in 1629. See Salvador Miranda, The Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church . 38. King Henri IV regularly encouraged young French nobles to gain military service by serving Prince Maurice. For the Huguenot nobility, it became virtually required to serve at least one season in the Dutch army. See David J. B. Trim, “The Huguenots and the European Wars of Religion, c. 1560– 1697: Soldiering in National and Transnational Context,” in The Huguenots: History and Memory in Transnational Context: Essays in Honour and Memory of Walter C. Utt, ed. David J. B. Trim (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 173–74.
Memoirs (1584–1606) 55 the lord of Béthune, who in truth had already proven that he deserved it by the service he had rendered to the Estates-General, during which he had been injured and taken prisoner. On the 22nd of October, in Wesel, where our son was retained in bed due to his foot injury, news came that Prince Maurice planned to invade Gheldres the following night. Enthusiastic about the prospect of a better opportunity than the one that had escaped him, he resolved to join the prince in spite of his handicap. To ensure that he would not miss this opportunity, he secured a place in the wagon that carried the pistols intended for the attack, and took two of his men: La Grise, brought up as a page by Monsieur du Plessis, and his servant Jolivoy were to help him walk once he arrived where the attack was to take place. It was dawn when the army arrived in Gheldres on the 23rd of October, and the city wall was lined with torches and guns. This, however, did not deter them. The artillery men advanced. Captain Sault was to lead the first dozen men who were armed with pistols and protected by armor. Our son, who held the captain in high esteem, offered himself up as his soldier for that day and, supported by his servants, led the group. The first shot merely left a trace of gun powder on the first barrier. The second shot made [106] an opening by which the soldiers entered, but not without confusion, because it was aimed intentionally at the city gate, and the one that followed was not. When the artilleryman went back for the third shot, he yelled, “Move back!” to have the soldiers make more room for him to pass. Those who were less courageous interpreted this as an order to retreat, and they deserted their positions. Our son was at the edge of the ditch, sword in hand and rallying those around him, when he was shot in the heart. He fell without uttering a sound. La Grise, one of those on whom he was leaning, was mortally wounded and was immediately taken away by the soldiers as they retreated. For our son, this was the best way to go, born as he was in the church of God and raised to fear Him; he was recognized for his worth at such a young age, ultimately sacrificing himself for a righteous struggle and an honorable cause; but for us, this was the beginning of a grief that could only be extinguished by death, leaving us to find solace in our fear of God and in His grace, and to dwell in the bitterness that came from such a loss. Prince Maurice took it upon himself to bury our son’s remains in the city of Wesel, carried by war colonels from all nations while the war raged on outside the city. This city’s neutrality did not allow Prince Maurice to enter and proceed with the rituals of a military leader’s funeral (even though our son was just a private soldier in that army), and so our son’s body was taken to Rotterdam by boat, [107] notably by the said prince and all the counts of the house of Nassau, something never before seen done for anyone else of his rank. Several gentlemen of the army, even some of the opposing religion, wrote that the grief was as profound amongst all the soldiers as if they had lost a great part of their army. His virtue had such
56 MADAME DE MORNAY an impact that in our court, this loss was felt with great sadness, especially by the king, who said while reading this honorable letter sent to him by Prince Maurice: “I lost one of the most promising gentlemen in my kingdom. My heart goes out to his father, to whom I send my deepest sympathies; no other father could bear such a loss.” At that moment, he dispatched lord Bruneau, one of his secretaries, with gracious letters to console us in our time of grief. However, lord Bruneau was to make sure that we had already heard the news before extending the king’s sympathy to us, as no one wants to be the bearer of such sad news. From that point on, several of the most important people at court, of one faith or the other, lords and ladies, who felt or knew of our pain, wrote to us to express their condolences. Reformed churches, both near and far, expressed their most profound sorrow. There are even a few strangers who, as I am writing this almost five months after our son’s death, continue to express their sorrow. This was the reason why our friends, who first had wanted to hide this sad news from us, resolved [108] to tell us, fearing that we would hear it elsewhere in a less gentle way. And one Thursday, on the evening of the 24th of November, they shared the news with Monsieur du Plessis who had gone out without me and was quite uneasy about the news circulating. When he heard, he was grief-stricken, and knowing that his facial expression would betray his feelings, he felt that it would be best that the two of us shared our pain with one another. As he came in, he said, “My dear, today God is calling on us to trust our obedience and our faith in Him. Because it is His will, we must accept it.” Since I was already worried and weak from a long affliction, I fainted when I heard these words and began having convulsions. I lost the ability to speak for a long period as if I were on the brink of dying, and when I came to, the first words I spoke were the following: “May the will of God be done! We could have lost him in a duel, and what consolation would we have had?” A surplus of emotions is better expressed by silence. We felt our insides stripped from us, our hope dissipating, our plans and desires drying up. For a long time, we could not find the words to say to one another, not knowing what to think, because our son was, after God, the center of our conversation and thoughts. Our daughters, despite the disapproval of the court, were happily married and had gone to live their own lives, after some effort on our part. Our son had been living with us, and had become the center of our existence. And we saw that God was taking everything from us, undoubtedly to take the two of us with him from the world, so that we would have nothing else to hold on to at whatever time [109] He called on us, except, between now and then, to ultimately consider His church our home, our true family, and our sole purpose. Our pastor, Monsieur Bouchereau, was very kind in assisting us in our sorrow, and we are grateful to him. Monsieur de Haumont, advocate to the king, hardly left us a moment alone after we heard the news. Soon after, our daughters and sons-in-law hurried to us one after the other from all over; with each arrival
Memoirs (1584–1606) 57 our pain was renewed. Regrets from the city of Saumur, even amongst those of the opposing religion, flowed in more than we ever would have expected. And above all, it was incredible to see how much our son was missed all over, such was his character, always doing favors for others and never unpleasant to anyone. He had made himself so well known in so few years, almost as soon as he was born. All of this should have eased our suffering, but instead it regenerated it, because we were forced to confront our loss, and the greater the loss, the greater the pain. Monsieur du Plessis proceeded to write an account of our grief in Latin, which he then translated into French, hoping to make it known to future generations, as in our souls our pains are perpetual. From that point on, we renounced all hope in this life; we bought and constructed a place for our sepulcher, joining the sanctuary that we had built for the Reformed Church of Saumur, in which we hoped to lay the body of our son to rest. His body was brought from Holland back to our home in Plessis by his servants under the supervision of [110] lord La Jaunage de Mirebolaiz who had completed the voyage with our son. On the 21st of April 1606, the body of our poor son arrived after we had sent for it. It was brought to us by the lord of Licques, Captain La Roche, and one of our son’s servants. They took his body from our home to the neighborhood of Croix-Verte in Saumur. In order to show their good intentions to Monsieur du Plessis, and to honor the memory of our poor son, the magistrates had insisted several days prior on displaying the body at La Croix-Verte for people from both religions. This was done by all the magistrates, officers of the king, and the entire people. His body was then brought from Croix-Verte to the Town Hall of Saumur by the lord of Licques, the captains of the garrison, the aldermen, and the officers of the city. After the king’s officers had stepped aside since they were from the opposing faith, his body was received in the Town Hall by those of the [Reformed] faith, and from there taken to the sanctuary of the Reformed Church by the lord of Licques and several captains, and by the elderly members of the church, and there it was laid to rest in the place that had been built for this purpose. We stipulated that when God should call us, our bodies should then be laid there alongside his body, since God had willed that his should be first, so that on the Judgment Day, we would all be together by the grace of God, and through Jesus Christ our Lord, we would rise again in His glory. [111] It seems reasonable that my book should end on the subject of my son, since it was written with the intention of describing to him our journey in this life, and because his life was cut short by the will of God. Should I not fear that it would cause pain to Monsieur du Plessis, whose affection toward me grows as my sorrow grows, I would want to die now and be buried with my son.
Anne de Chaufepié, Journal (1689) [57]
Handwritten Journal of Anne de Chaufepié during the period of the dragonnades and of refuge. Copy of a text written by my aunt, Anne de Chaufepié Year 1685
Chaufepié’s journal, transcribed by one of her nieces, recounts the persecutions that Anne and her female friends, including her best friend Mademoiselle de Saumaise, endured between April 1686 (when they attempted to flee the dragonnades but were caught in La Rochelle as they were about to embark for England) and May 1688 (when they were expelled from France and put on a boat going to Rotterdam). Written in 1689, a year or so after Chaufepié settled in Balk (Friesland)—not 1685, as it appears in the title, the year in which she began to record her memoirs—the journal is “based on what [she] wrote in France as those things were happening.” Notable for its precision of names, places, dates, and the detailed descriptions of events, this memoir serves as an important testimony to the Huguenot experience of persecution and exile. From Chaufepié, Journal manuscrit, 57–68 and 256–66.
God not wanting to fulfill the wishes that I made for my stay in Mauzé, where the persecution of the church of Aulnay had brought my brother Second and my sister des Aubiers1 last April, and where my sister de la Croix had come sometime after, we found ourselves hunted by the dragoons2 who, having spread out across the entire kingdom to persecute all Protestants in a horrendous fury, came to the home of Mesdemoiselles de la Forest on the 15th or 16th of September; in the matter of three days, they stole and sold all the possessions that they could find in the house, and we were forced to flee from that moment on. My aunts de la Forest took refuge in La Laigne, and Mademoiselle de Saumaise, my sister de la Croix, and I in Olbreuse. My sister des Aubiers had been, eight or ten days prior, near La Rochelle3 to go grape harvesting with the Bion demoiselles; when they learned of what had happened to us, they decided to leave the kingdom, and fortunately
1. “My sister des Aubiers,” or Marie-Claude, Anne’s youngest sister; “my sister de la Croix” refers to Catherine. 2. dragoons: see above, Introduction, 9. For the dragoons and the dragonnades, see above 8–9 and note 29, and 17. 3. La Rochelle: see above, Introduction, note 27.
59
60 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ went on to Holland.4 We remained in Olbreuse for three months with little inconvenience considering the way things were. At the beginning of October, we made a request to Monsieur Arnou, an intendant5 from Aunis, to be allowed to regain our possessions from those who had bought them, and to return their money, which amounted to very little. He responded favorably to the request, and we took everything back that we could find in the homes of individuals from Mausé [Mauzé], who had bought our belongings or had held onto them for our sake, as several of them had intended to do.6 My sister de la Croix and I chose to sell everything we could recover, and without worrying about what each of us had [59] more or less lost, we split the money three ways; each of us took what was ours, and we sent my sister des Aubiers her share by way of my second brother7 when he left France. We also decided to share some clothing that we kept. Everything we sold made us about three hundred thirty or forty livres between the three of us. At the beginning of November, Monsieur and Madame d’Olbreuse8 were alerted that Madame de Maintenon9 did not approve of their allowing us to stay in their home, and so Madame d’Olbreuse wrote a kind letter to Madame de Maintenon on our behalf, imploring her to let us stay there.10 She knew that Madame de Maintenon could easily allow this if she so desired,11 but her firmness 4. Holland: see above, Introduction, note 31. 5. Intendant: see above, Introduction, note 30. 6. After household goods, papers, and provisions had been dispersed and hidden with friends and Huguenot sympathizers, it was left to women to recover the remnants of family possessions. See Eurich, “Women in the Huguenot Communities,” 124–26. 7. She means Samuel, who seems to have left after M. de la Forest, Second, and Marie-Claude had already gone. 8. Alexandre III Desmier d’Olbreuse (d. 1689), son of Alexandre II Desmier d’Olbreuse and Jeanne Beranger, had married a second time Madeleine Sylvie de Sainte-Hermine de la Laigne. See Henri Beauchet-Filleau and Charles de Chergé et al., Dictionnaire historique et généalogique des familles du Poitou, 2nd ed., vol. 3 (Poitiers: Société française d’imprimerie et de librairie, 1905), 107–108. 9. Françoise d’Aubigné (1636–1719), marquise de Maintenon, second wife of Louis XIV, founder of the school of Saint-Cyr whose mission was to educate the daughters and future wives of the poor French nobility. It is commonly argued today that she did not have the part once attributed to her in bringing about the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. 10. Madeleine Sylvie de Sainte-Hermine de la Laigne (Madame d’Olbreuse) was the daughter of Madame de Maintenon’s first cousin Madeleine de Villette, lady of Sainte-Hermine de la Laigne, who was Protestant. In the 1680s Madame de Maintenon, who was a devout Catholic, tried to convert her cousin’s children, but Madeleine Sylvie resisted and refused. On Madame de Maintenon’s conversion activities within her family, see Lougee, Facing the Revocation, 225–26. 11. In the past, Madame de Maintenon had spoken favorably about the pastor Second de Chaufepié to influential people including Intendant Foucault. See the letter Madame de Maintenon addressed in June 1670 to her first cousin M. de la Villette, in Correspondance générale de Madame de Maintenon, edited by Théophile Sébastien La Vallée, vol. 1 (Paris: Charpentier, 1865), 149.
Journal (1689) 61 on the matter could not be softened, and without writing herself, she made clear to Madame d’Olbreuse (through one of her brothers) that she should send us away if she did not want to have her home full of dragoons, of which we had until then been spared thanks to the request of Monsieur d’Olbreuse’s sister, the duchess of Zell.12 Towards the end of December 1685, we were forced to leave the house and go into hiding like several others; and on the 8th of April 1686, after much worrying, alarm, and discomfort, Mademoiselle de Saumaise and I went to La Rochelle to try to set sail. My sister de la Croix stayed near Mausé, to wait for news from us. My aunts and the demoiselles de Saint-Lorens, whom we had seen while passing through Laigne, did the same and hid in a village near La Rochelle, where Mademoiselle de Boisragon came to fetch them and found them a few days after they had arrived. Mademoiselle de Saumaise and I arrived in La Rochelle on foot the evening of April 11th, which was Holy Thursday, at the hour when the worshipers of the Roman [i.e., Catholic] faith were returning from their church in the countryside. We passed for Catholics, and this allowed us to go through the gate without being asked who we were and where we came from. We hid in the newer part of the city at the homes of people unknown to us, but who took pity on us because we were determined to sleep on the cobblestone if we could not find a place to stay. We told them, and they welcomed us into their homes with much charity, happy to help those who were fortunate enough to persevere in the faith that they themselves had renounced through a signature that was forced upon them by the dragoons. [60] We stayed there until April 23rd of 1686, and on that day (which was a Tuesday), after taking all the precautions possible considering the time and the state of things, and after praying to God and asking for His blessing, my aunts, Mesdemoiselles de la Forest (the oldest was named Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert and the youngest Mademoiselle de la Vergnais) met us around nine o’clock in the evening at Place Abert with Mademoiselle de Saint-Lorens and Mademoiselle de Boisragon. Between ten and eleven o’clock, at the harbor of La Rochelle, we boarded the boat of a sailor named Diligent who, by the mediation of an important man in the city, accepted for a Louis d’or13 each to take us safely to the boat of an Englishman who was soon to set sail back to England. We spent the night on the boat, and at dawn, the boatman had us descend into the bottom of the boat, where he had promised us that we would be the only ones to stay that night; instead, we were surprised to find more than forty people there, most of 12. Éléonore Desmier d’Olbreuse (1639–1722), lady of Harbourg, then countess of Wihelmsbourg, wife of Georges-Guillaume de Brunswick-Lünebourg, duke of Zell. See Beauchet-Filleau and Chergé, Dictionnaire historique, 3:107. 13. Fugitives needed funds to cover the cost of their escape. Transporting Huguenots was a lucrative business for both ship captains and guards, but if they were caught, they ran the risk of being sentenced to imprisonment in French galleys. On the financial aspects of Huguenots’ emigration (cost of passage, bribes, and so forth) and the clandestine commerce of transporting fugitives, see Lougee, Facing the Revocation, 163–69.
62 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ whom were entirely unknown to us. But since we were all in the same situation, we entrusted our safety to this boatman without knowing where he was taking us. Near two o’clock in the afternoon, we were approached by a guard of the Ré14 dispatch boat who, after several threats to arrest us all, proposed a compromise: he would let us go on our way if we gave him 100 pistoles, which were given to him at the very moment when the deal was made. The guard immediately got off the boat, and near five o’clock in the evening, we reached the English vessel where we were to be dropped off. The boatman helped us all get on board in a hurry. We had hardly been on the vessel a moment when the dispatch boat approached us. In no time, the officers took possession of the boat, in spite of the English vessel’s resistance, and made the captain and all of the French fugitives spend the night on their boat, which was a cruel and unusual punishment for all the prisoners, even though they were not harmed; but all the clothes that they had, with the exception of those that they were wearing, were stolen by the soldiers; some were able to recover a few items, but I was not a part of that group, and others lost a considerable amount. The next morning, the 25th, they brought us to Ré around six o’clock in the morning, where we were received by the commander of the citadel. He first [61] separated the men from the women, putting the former in two dungeons and the latter in a guardhouse. Two hours later, he brought us into adjacent rooms, which allowed us to see each other. The five young women mentioned above and I were placed together with three other young women, who had served some of us. That evening, the major brought Mademoiselle de Saint-Lorens to his house, promising that she could see her friends when she so wished; but this promise was not kept, as she was not even able to speak to us through a window, even though she would sometimes take walks under ours. On the 28th, the criminal assessor of La Rochelle came to interrogate all the prisoners, men and women alike, and did so in a civil manner. On the 7th of May, a captain of the garrison came to take Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert and Mademoiselle de Saumaise into a different room. Two hours later, the governor of the island, the major of the citadel, and several officers entered the room where I still remained with my companions who had not yet been removed. The governor spoke to me harshly and made several threats after I refused to take his advice to abjure. A moment later, the major took me to the room of Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert and Mademoiselle de Saumaise, where he locked us up and warned us not to speak with each other. On the 8th, a lieutenant of the garrison ordered us to descend into a dungeon, which could actually have been a pretty room if there had been air; but as there was only one small window at the very top, barred and obstructed by a heavy cloth, it was nearly impossible to read average-sized print in the brightest hours of the day, and the place was so humid that our skirts and our stockings never dried. 14. Ré: the citadel on the Île de Ré, off the western coast of France at La Rochelle.
Journal (1689) 63 In order to make room for us, they had to displace soldiers destined for Canada, and it smelled so badly that it was difficult to find any kind of comfort. We were locked up there, unable to see anyone until the 5th of June; at the pressing request of one of our friends, a Catholic woman, we were moved to a nearby room, where we were as constrained as we had been in the dungeon, while all the other prisoners above and next to us got to see each other and all their friends outside. [62] During our stay in the dungeon, Mademoiselle de Boisragon and Mademoiselle de Saint-Lorens were brought to the major’s home, and from there to the convent of the Daughters of Providence15 in La Rochelle, the latter by lettre de petit cachet16 and the former by order of the province’s intendant, who was instructed by the court to sentence all the prisoners as a last resort. On the 25th of June, he went to Ré to work on their trial, and after several attempts, during which several succumbed in terror, he began legal proceedings. On the 27th, a Jesuit17 disguised as a secular man was introduced to us by the lieutenant who acted as the prison guard. After exchanging niceties18 with an affected gentleness, he told us that he was there on the intendant’s behalf to evaluate our feelings about the Reformed religion and to show us our error in pursuing such a faith. We spoke for more than three hours; but this conversation, full of the subtleties typical of Roman [i.e., Catholic] missionaries,19 inspired nothing other than a firm resolution to continue pursuing our religious beliefs, distorted only by what we considered to be wicked and feeble arguments. The Jesuit left the room and came back a moment later with the prévôt20 of La Rochelle, several officers and the major of the citadel, who asked the Jesuit if he had succeeded with us. He responded negatively, and added that we had no doubts about our faith. The major told us that because 15. The Daughters of Providence was a religious order founded in 1630 by Marie de Lumague (1599– 1657) with the assistance of Vincent de Paul, which provided shelter to poor girls in situation of peril to their faith. See McClintock and Strong Biblical Cyclopedia: . 16. A letter bearing the king’s signature and an official seal (cachet) usually authorizing someone’s imprisonment without trial. 17. Jesuits, as they were commonly known, were members of the Society of Jesus founded in 1540 by Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556), dedicated to Catholic mission and education. See John W. O’Malley, “The Society of Jesus,” in R. Po-chia Hsia, ed., A Companion to the Reformation World (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 223–36, and the bibliographical overview of Robert A. Maryks, “Jesuits,” in Oxford Bibliographies (http://www.oxfordbibliographies.com/), DOI: 10.1093/ OBO/9780195399301-0098. 18. The French word civilités indicate rules of polite conduct that were important in seventeenthcentury society. 19. For the Jesuit use of rhetoric in their missionary activity, see Cinthia Gannett and John C. Brereton, eds., Traditions of Eloquence: The Jesuits and Modern Rhetorical Studies (New York: Fordham University Press, 2016), especially Part One. 20. prévôt: a civil or judicial officer or magistrate.
64 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ we refused to convert, he was obligated to share a message that the Jesuit did not have the heart to relay to us: we would immediately be forced to descend into the dungeons, where we would have chains placed on our feet.21 We received this order without changing our composure, and responded lightheartedly that we were ready. The order was executed at once; we were taken to the dungeons, but there were not enough chains for all the women prisoners (there were twelve of us). There were also five men, who had been in a dungeon since their imprisonment. There remained only eight young and one older woman after the given judgment, the rest having succumbed to the fear that had been instilled in them, and having left the faith that they had initially embraced so resolutely. The eight people who persevered until the end are the following: Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert, Mademoiselle de Saumaise, [63] Mademoiselle de la Vergnais, Mademoiselle de Saint-Lorens, Mademoiselle de Boisragon, Mademoiselle du Mas, Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie (née du Perot), Madame de Ruffignac, and myself. I was placed in the first dungeon with my two roommates and Mademoiselle de Vergnais. As soon as we entered the room, an old man, Jesuit in appearance, came in with the lieutenant who acted as the prison guard (named La Coste). The Jesuit attempted to reason with us, but it was to no avail and his reasoning was poor as well as unjust. Afterwards, La Coste took away all the books, knives, and scissors22 he could find, and threatened to search us if we did not give him everything voluntarily. We gave him everything that we knew we could not hide, out of fear that he would follow through on his violent threat. All of our other companions were treated the same way. Among the books that he took from us, there were prayers and meditations by Monsieur Le Faucheur23 and Monsieur Du Moulin.24 21. Through free indirect discourse, a technique commonly attributed to much later writers, the threat becomes more real. 22. The refugees could only take a few valuables with them; in addition to silver tableware and jewelry, they often took books of piety and documents that held special meanings to them; see Lougee, Facing the Revocation, 171–72. Any book deemed capable of spreading Protestantism and all heretical literature were confiscated and destroyed. 23. Michel Le Faucheur (d. 1657), Protestant minister successively at Montpellier, Charenton, and Paris, preacher of great talent, author of sermons. See “Faucheur, Michel Le,” McClintock and Strong Biblical Cyclopedia, . 24. Pierre du Moulin (1568–1658), celebrated Protestant minister who studied in Sedan and Cambridge, a polemical writer who published, in addition to many of his sermons, Le bouclier de la foi, translated as The Buckler of the Faith, or a Defence of the Confession of the Reformed Churches in France, 3rd ed. (London: Printed by Iohn Beale for Nathaniel Newbery, 1631). See “Moulin, Pierre Du,” McClintock and Strong Biblical Cyclopedia, . It was quite common for pastors to distribute their best sermons and publish books of piety, moral treatises, and catechisms for their flocks. On pastors’ influence on their communities, see Philippe Chareyre and Raymond A. Mentzer, “Organizing the Churches and Reforming Society,” 17–42, and Karin Maag, “Pulpit and Pen: Pastors and Professors Shapers of the
Journal (1689) 65 He showed these to the Jesuit and told him that this was fine, that there was no need to take these books from us. The Jesuit responded that while it was true that these were good books, he still had to fulfill his duty. Therefore, in order to torment us further and deprive us of all consolation, they took those books as well as our bibles. I had one in three volumes that they took from me, and which, by the grace of God, found its way back into my hands. It has served as a great consolation to me during the hardship I have endured since. On Sunday, the 30th of the month, the major came into our dungeon very early in the morning and took Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert to give her testimony before the intendant. That same day, all the others’ testimonies were heard, after which the prisoners were brought back to the dungeon where I was. It was a difficult night, as we had very little food and no place to sleep. The next morning (July 1st), we were separated into pairs; they put us with those we knew the least. The major strongly recommended that Mademoiselle de Saumaise and I be separated, because we were known to be close friends. She, Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert, and I were put into different dungeons, each with a different companion, and the others experienced the same thing (albeit in rooms rather than in dungeons). Mademoiselle de Boisragon was brought that day from La Rochelle, and they put her alone in a dungeon under mine. From that day until Friday, July 5th, male and female prisoners alike [64] were brought before the intendant to be interrogated with several witnesses whom we knew only because they had been caught at the same time as us, and some of them we did not know at all, never having seen them before. After all the judicial proceedings, practiced in the same way as they would be in the cases of the guiltiest criminals, all the female prisoners were locked up as they had been before. They were guarded with great rigor; the door barely opened when food was brought to them twice a day. Some of us got food in the citadel, and others had it brought from the city. The keys to all of our rooms had been given to a sergeant, the most bigoted and severe of all those who worked there. He never opened our doors without instilling great fear concerning the evils awaiting us. After Mademoiselle de Saumaise’s companion succumbed to the temptation out of fear and in the hope of leaving the kingdom easily, she remained alone in her dungeon and never obtained the permission of the governor to be reunited with Mademoiselle de Boisragon.
Huguenot Tradition,” 36–37 and 150–69, both in Mentzer and Van Ruymbeke, A Companion to the Huguenots.
66 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ On the 14th, the intendant, who had left on the 6th, came back to Rhé accompanied by the judge from the Admiralty25 and by five counselors26 from La Rochelle to judge all the prisoners. That evening, at ten o’clock, La Coste came to warn us and recommended that we abjure out of fear of the terrible judgment that would be made against us all. On the 15th, at nine o’clock in the evening, Monsieur de Miremon, governor of the island, came to the citadel and brought Mademoiselle de Saumaise to the public square, where he began by pressing her gently to convert, then threatening her to do so. He especially wanted to instill in her the terror of the judgment that would be made against her the following morning. She responded she feared human justice less than the divine judgment that she would bring upon herself by sinning in such a way against her conscience. Upon hearing this, he became furious and had her immediately brought back to her dungeon. On the 16th, we were all brought before our judges one after the other and interrogated on the stand. After her turn, Mademoiselle de Boisragon was put alone in a room with a girl to serve her. Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert, Mademoiselle de Saumaise, Mademoiselle de la Vergnais, Mademoiselle du Mas, Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie, Madame de Ruffignac, and I were put in a small dungeon where we could hardly turn around. We were fed, for our money, by the same sergeant who acted as the prison guard, without [65] anyone—neither from the citadel, nor elsewhere—being able to see us or even speak to us through the doors and bars that enclosed us. We remained in this state until the 7th of August; but they thought that, despite the discomfort of the place, we had the consolation of being together, and so they separated us: they left Mademoiselle de Saumaise, Mademoiselle de la Vergnais and me in the same dungeon, and our three companions were brought into another where we thought they would be a little better off. We were still unable to interact with each other, nor with people outside. On August 23rd, the major came to our dungeon; he called Mademoiselle de Saumaise to the door, and told her that the bishop of Meaux,27 her relative, had written to the governor of Ré in her favor, and that there was even a letter for her from the bishop, and that the governor—who was coming that day to the citadel—would bring it to her. Around four o’clock in the afternoon, a sergeant came to fetch her and took her to a room where the governor, the major, and a captain of the frigate were waiting. She received the letter from Monsieur de Meaux in which he spoke openly about her state, and offered her the opportunity to be released from prison in order to go to Meaux, under two conditions: 25. The term “Admiralty” designates the civil and criminal jurisdiction found in all the important ports of the Frenh Old Regime, concerned principally with maritime matters. See Jean-Yves Le Lan, “Le rôle de l’Amirauté,” . 26. Officials who oversaw civil and criminal cases. 27. For Bossuet, see above, Introduction, note 58.
Journal (1689) 67 first, she must enter a convent which, he thought, was a more proper place for her than his home; second, she must be willing for people to speak to her, but without violence, concerning the wrong faith that she had embraced. He added: “I am making the same offer, under the same conditions, to Mademoiselle de Chaufepié, your close friend, and I assure you that I will never cause you to be separated; on the contrary, I will work to unite the two of you in the true church.” These were his terms. The governor asked Mademoiselle de Saumaise what she wanted to do, and if he should tell Monsieur de Meaux that she and her good friend would accept his proposal. She responded negatively, saying that she would obey his wishes to stay there or to go elsewhere, but that she would never consent to denouncing her faith. She was persuaded of its goodness, and she would never change her opinion. They begged her, threatened her, flattered her, and did everything they could to break her; finally, the governor told her that he would really like to satisfy Monsieur de Meaux, but that she would have to agree to his wishes, because otherwise he could do nothing for her. She responded that the only favor that she [66] asked of him was in his power, since her request was to let people into her dungeon from time to time who wanted to see her and her friends. He became furious and told her that far from letting her see anyone, he would rather prevent air from entering her cell if he could. She responded without getting emotional that it would suffice to close up a small window, but that it would not prevent the Lord’s consolations from entering. At these words, the governor became so infuriated that he ordered her to be taken away immediately and she was placed alone in a filthy dungeon where soldiers had previously stayed. When she left, she said, “Yes, sir, I am going; Monsieur de Meaux’s recommendations had a great impact indeed.” This cruel order was executed one hour later, but Mademoiselle de Saumaise was brought back to our dungeon and we were all in a terrible state of desolation about the unjust order to which we were to be subjected. Our dear companion was taken away from us and placed in a dungeon prepared specially for her, where she had not even a handful of straw to sleep on. She fought through the night there, praying ardently to her God. The next day—the 24th—at four o’clock in the afternoon, they brought her out of her horrible dungeon, in a state that would even move the soldiers, and they brought her alone into a little room far away from us. On the 27th, at nine o’clock in the evening, they took her away and put us together in the first dungeon where we had been. On the 28th of August, at the same time, they brought the two of us into the dungeon where we had been with Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert and Mademoiselle de la Vergnais; but at the same time they took them away and put the two of them in the room where Mademoiselle de Saumaise had been the day before.
68 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ On the 30th, the major came for Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert and Mademoiselle de la Vergnais at the door of their room. He told them that he was coming to warn them as a friend that the executioner was coming in two days to shave their heads following their sentencing, and that they should think it over while they still had time. They responded that their decision was made long ago and that they were ready to suffer all the pain that would be inflicted upon them. The major passed the same message along to all the other prisoners by way of the prison guard. We responded [67] in the same way, and he advised Mademoiselle de Saumaise and me (on behalf of his wife) to cut our hair, out of fear that the executioner would profit from it. We told him at the same time that our hair was short and not worth keeping, that we would abandon it with joy, that we were angry, and that we did not want to take away from the executioner what justice gave him. This opinion had no consequence, as the executioner did not come, and we all remained in the places where we were, unable to communicate with anyone or amongst ourselves, except through the exchange of secret notes unbeknownst to our guard. On the 25th of September, an order was issued from the court to bring Mademoiselle de Boisragon to La Rochelle in order to go with Mademoiselle de Saint-Lorens to Paris. She was taken to Paris the following morning by Monsieur de la Coste, and several days later she left with her companion. Monsieur Poirel, commissioned by the intendant, placed them together in the New Converts in Paris.28 On the 26th, Monsieur de Gassion—the king’s lieutenant at the citadel— came to the dungeon to visit Mademoiselle de Saumaise and me; he spoke to us in an honest and gentle manner. She and I were worn down by our stay in such a horrible place, where we had been for four months on two separate occasions. He told us that he had obtained permission from the governor to put us in a room where we would be more comfortable. He took us there himself at that moment and, in order to help us gain our freedom, he urged us strongly to take the path that nearly all chose to follow. We responded that we would never abandon our faith, and that we would rather spend the rest of our lives in captivity. We appeared so resolute in our decision to do what we were saying that he hardly spoke about it after that, although he visited us two or three more times. He had spoken to Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert and Mademoiselle de la Vergnais in the same way, and they had made the same decision as we did. On the morning of October 13th, he entered their room and told them that he had asked for and received permission to relocate them in a better room with their companions. He brought them immediately to the room where Mademoiselle de Saumaise and I were, on a lower floor. He also brought our three other companions in captivity—Mademoiselle du [68] Mas, Mademoiselle de la 28. For the New Converts, see above, Introduction, note 40.
Journal (1689) 69 Pommeraie, and Madame de Ruffignac—from their dungeon and locked them in a room close to ours. Although they were our neighbors, we never saw them nor communicated with them, nor with a gentleman named Monsieur de Voutron, a prisoner for the same cause, who was in a room across from ours. We saw no one and all were discouraged from speaking to us through our windows and our doors, in front of which a guard remained day and night. The same day—the 13th of October—the sergeant who provided our food ceased to do so of his own will, and went to fetch a woman that we knew in town so that she would make provision instead. The keys to our doors were given to the sergeant, and all took their turn to open our doors, but always accompanied by two musketeers, with a lit candle. On the 21st of November, the major came at six o’clock in the evening into our three rooms, took our names, our ranks, the places of our births, the places where we lived, the day of our imprisonment, that of our judgment, the names and places of the births of our parents, and told us that it was by order of the king, who wanted to know all of this information in order to learn of our affairs. On the 6th of January 1687, at five o’clock in the evening, Lieutenant La Coste came to ask the same questions again, and also how old we were, and said to Monsieur de Voutron that this information was to be sent to the bishop of La Rochelle,29 who wanted to know of all of these things. After that, we remained in the same situation for four months, experiencing new sorrows from time to time, caused by the ways in which those in command treated us, and by the threats that they made to separate us and to inflict even worse pain. [256] Finally, this dreadful separation took place on the 12th of May. Monsieur de Gassion came at four o’clock in the afternoon to tell me that the prévôt of La Rochelle and two of his guards were there to take me away; that I had to leave my three companions and go with three other prisoners that were also being taken away. I had a fever at the time, and all of my clothes were in town to be laundered, and they were still soaked when they sent for them. We took our horses to go to Fort La Prée from which we departed.30 The farewells that we exchanged were painful, emotionally charged, and restrained all at once; our natural tenderness was supported by the spirit of God, which guided us on this occasion. We courageously followed the path destined for each of us that day. We experienced some difficulty crossing the sea, which was horribly choppy that night. I was the most fortunate of our little group, because I felt neither fear nor pain as did the two others. Mademoiselle du Mas was also terribly frightened, but 29. Henri-Marie de Laval de Boisdauphin (1620–1693) was appointed bishop of La Rochelle in 1661 until his death; see Catholic Hierarchy online: . 30. The oldest fortification on the Île de Ré. Its construction in 1625 was part of Louis XIII’s policy of reconquering Protestant strongholds.
70 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ after several hours of roughness, we arrived safely on shore; we were, however, so far from the place where a carriage was waiting for us that we had to walk more than a mile on rocks before we reached our destination. It was so tiring that we thought we would die several times on our way. At eleven o’clock at night, we finally arrived, barely alive, in the village of Aleu, where the prévôt’s carriage was waiting for us. He helped us inside and kindly drove us to his home; he treated us as friends rather than as prisoners. The next morning, we were put into another carriage driven by the two guards who had brought us from Ré. We spent the night in Mausé and were forbidden to see anyone, except through a window and this could not be done without difficulty. On Wednesday, the 14th of the month, we traveled in the same carriage and had dinner in Niort, after which we were placed in four different convents without being able to communicate with each other,31 and seldom knowing what was happening in the others’ lives. The President of Justice, an ally [coreligionist] of mine, and the President of Treasury, a relative of Mademoiselle du Mas, [257] strongly recommended that things be this way, believing that by depriving us of all pleasure, we would sooner make the change that was being asked of us. However, experience every day continues to show them that this type of strictness, the kind meant only to cause pain, only strengthens those following a religion that teaches gentleness32 and further separates them from a religion promoting severity and captivity. I was placed with the Ursulines;33 Mademoiselle du Mas was with the Daughters Hospitallers,34 Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie with the Cordelières,35 31. On the convent as prison, see Barbara R. Woshinsky, Imagining Women’s Conventual Spaces in France, 1600–1800: The Cloister Disclosed (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2010), 1–41, 161–67, and 207–21. 32. One may find ironic the fact that Chaufepié uses this term to describe the Reformed faith, when at the same time Catholics used the term “gentleness” or “sweetness” to designate the “little” Salesian virtues. See Wendy M. Wright, “The Visitation of Holy Mary: The First Years, 1610–1618,” in Religious Orders of the Catholic Reformation: In Honor of John C. Olin on His Seventy-Fifth Birthday, ed. Richard L. DeMolen (New York: Fordham University Press, 1994), 233. 33. For the Ursulines, see the recent study of Laurence Lux-Sterritt, Redefining Female Religious Life: French Ursulines and English Ladies in Seventeenth Century Catholicism (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), and the bibliographical overview of Querciolo Mazzonis, “Ursulines,” Oxford Bibliographies , DOI: 10.1093/OBO/9780195399301-0040. 34. The Daughters Hospitallers of Saint Joseph, or Hospitalières, whose main activity was the care of the sick, were founded in 1636 in La Flèche (Maine-et-Loire) by Jérôme le Royer de La Dauversière (1597–1659) with the assistance of Marie de la Ferre (1589–1652). See Bernard Peyrous, Jérôme le Royer: De la Flèche à Montréal: Un visionnaire au XVIIe siècle (Paris: CLD éditions, 2016). 35. Members of the Order of St. Clare, or clarisses, constituted the second order of Franciscans, sometimes called Cordelières from the cord they wear round their waist. A Couvent des Cordelières had been founded on the outskirts of Paris in 1270. For the Order of St. Clare, see Amy E. Leonard, “Female
Journal (1689) 71 and Madame de Ruffignac with the Benedictines.36 These religious orders37 were assigned to us through a lettre de petit cachet. Several days after I arrived at my assigned destination, I learned that the three companions that I had left in Ré had been transferred: Mademoiselle de Puiscouvert to the Daughters of Notre-Dame in Fontenay,38 Mademoiselle de la Vergnais to the Daughters of Providence in La Rochelle,39 and Mademoiselle de Saumais to the Saintes-Claires,40 in the same city where, a few days later, she received permission from the court to go to Holland where she was born; but up until the day of her departure, she was kept in the convent with so much severity that she saw no one from the outside, nor her other companions, who had always been held in the same discomfort. We were taken to the parlor only to see clergy members who would come around from time to time. Several days after I had arrived in Niort, the intendant of Poitou—named Monsieur Foucault41—came to the convent, wanting to see me. I was lying in bed with a fever, but nonetheless was asked to get up and go to him. When he saw me in that state, he said in an apologetic manner that I should not have been taken from my room and that he did not know that I was so sick when he asked for me. He spoke to me honestly and gently, but strongly advised that I convert, assuring Religious Orders,” in Hsia, A Companion to the Reformation World, 238; also Edwin O’Hara, “Poor Clares,” The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 12 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1911): . 36. The Benedictine Order is an order of monks and nuns who follow the rule of the sixth-century St. Benedict of Nursia. See George C. Alston, “The Benedictine Order,” in The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 2 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1907): ; and F. L. Cross and E. A. Living-Stone, eds., The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 187–88. 37. Counter-Reformation France saw an explosion of new female religious orders which “forced [women] into enclosed convents and shut down their public religious expression”; see Leonard, “Female Religious Orders,” 237–54, at 244. Reformers in areas that had converted to Protestantism, in contrast, dissolved convents or forced nuns into exile: see, for instance, Jeanne de Jussie, The Short Chronicle: A Poor Clare’s Account of the Reformation of Geneva, ed. and trans. Carrie F. Klaus (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006). 38. The Daughters of Notre-Dame were founded in homage to the Virgin Mary, “the powerful patroness of militant Catholicism,” by Jeanne de Lestonnac (1556–1640), who had a Calvinist mother: Elizabeth Rapley, The Dévotes: Women and Church in Seventeenth-Century France (Montreal: McGillQueen’s University Press, 1990), 43–48, at 43. 39. The Daughters of Providence, founded in Paris in 1643 as a seminary for young girls soon matured into a religious community under the rule drawn up by St. Vincent de Paul; see Florence McGahan, “Daughters of Providence,” The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 12 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1911): . 40. See above, note 35, for the Order of St. Clare. 41. The intendant Nicolas-Joseph Foucault (1643–1721) had organized the dragonnades in Bearn, Languedoc, and Poitou. See Roy L. McCullough, Coercion, Conversion, and Counterinsurgency in Louis XIV’s France (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 140–47.
72 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ me that my long resistance would have to come to an end at some point. He was accompanied by several people who spoke to me in the same way. He told the nuns that I needed to be won over by reason and gentleness, without argument or severity. After staying with them for two weeks, I had the good fortune of being well-liked, and enjoyed more freedom in the convent than before. As the nuns saw that I would not abuse my new freedom, they were not afraid to let me take advantage of the little pleasures that I found around the convent, [258] whether it be through walks in their garden or through direct communication with the nuns and boarders with whom I took my meals. On the 2nd of June, Mademoiselle de la Sauvagère de la Taillée was brought to the convent; she had been forced to sign her conversion, and now she wanted to retract it.42 We were forbidden to speak to one another, to see one another, and especially to pray together, even though they considered our prayers to be good. This order came from the Director, who was unhappy with the nuns because they had refused to receive a secular Sister that he had wanted them to take. The Mother Superior told us that we would have to suffer the Director’s unhappiness for a while; and that, in order not to upset him further, we would need to obey his orders, even though she herself disapproved of them. We were observed at all times with great attentiveness out of fear that we would not obey this order precisely. On the 17th of July, at seven o’clock in the evening, the Superior was told that she would need to hand me over in the following morning at five o’clock. She came herself to tell me this, with tears in her eyes and tender words; all the nuns and boarders begged me in the softest, saddest, and most pressing way possible to change my sentiments, or to ask for more time to reflect on what I had to do. My three other companions in the same city were treated in a similar way in their respective convents, but all efforts were equally futile for us all. On Friday, the 18th of July, two guards from Poitiers came for the four of us, with an order from the intendant for the nuns to hand us over. The guards took us on horseback to Poitiers, passing by Saint-Maixent on the way there. On the same order, they took Mademoiselle de la Grolière from the Benedictines, where she had been confined because she did not want to stand by the signature she had given in prison; they had her join us. We arrived the next day, the 19th, in Poitiers, at two o’clock in the afternoon. They made us enter the Town Hall, which holds one of the prisons; and after having alerted the intendant of our arrival, we were separated. A soldier came on his behalf to take Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie and Madame Ruffignac to the Conciergerie,43 Mademoiselle de la Grolière and 42. On forced conversion and its admissibility in the eyes of Jesuits, see Marcel Bernos, “Confession et conversion,” in La conversion au XVIIe siècle: Actes du XIIe colloque de Marseille, janvier 1982, ed. Roger Duchêne (Marseille: C. M. R. 17, 1983), 283–96. 43. The Conciergerie of Paris, which was once part of the Royal Palace built by King Philip IV, became a place of detention in the 1350s when the Louvre became the royal residence. After that time, the word
Journal (1689) 73 me to the Prévôté,44 [259] and left Mademoiselle du Mas alone at the Town Hall, where there were two others imprisoned for the same cause, whom she saw and with whom she ate. We also found two companions at the Prévôté. One was named Ruffignac, the niece of the one who had come with us, whom they had brought the day before from a convent in Parthenay; she had abjured and refused to stand by her decision. The other was a young woman named Mademoiselle Guiteau; she had always persevered and she had been a prisoner for two months. We were all in our prisons as miserable as one can be in such places; we remained there until the 23rd of the month, when they came in the morning to take our names and our social positions, and to tell us to be ready to leave at six o’clock. At almost that exact time, an exempt45 to the prévôt and two guards came to gather all seven of us and to take us to the messenger’s dwelling, where we were each given five livres to feed ourselves for five days while we walked to Chartres, where they said they were taking us. But they made us pay for the transportation of our clothes at a rate of three sous per livre, with the exception of fifteen livres each that were carried at no cost. After that was done, we were put in a wagon; the same exempt who had taken us from prison, along with one of the guards who had brought us from Niort, left with us and drove for days, but showed us all the kindness that we could have hoped for. We took the main road from Paris to Blois, and from there we continued to Chartres through Chateaudun,46 where we slept on the night of the 26th. The next morning, which was a Sunday, we arrived in Chartres at six o’clock in the evening; but since neither the intendant nor his subordinate were there, we were all placed in an inn where we spent the night in a state of uncertainty, not knowing what would become of us. The next morning, Monday the 28th, we were brought to the Conciergerie, where we were put in prison with all the proceedings typically reserved for criminals. Knowing why we were brought there, the prison guard and several other people received us with tears of compassion; the exempt and the guard could not hold back their tears as they left us, and provided favorable testimonies of us, which went from the prison to the city. Several papists47 took pity and visited us a few times, showing us kindness and charity. Since there was only one room already occupied by two women [260] of the diocese imprisoned for the same cause (named the Mesmoiselles Joly), the prison guard put us all together, even Conciergerie came to designate the prison adjoining any courthouse. 44. Inferior court dealing with minor civil cases; see Parker, La Rochelle and the French Monarchy, 210. 45. Name given to a police officer who places a person under arrest. 46. For descriptions of journeys of this sort, see Charles Estienne, La guide des chemins de France (Paris: Charles Estienne, 1552), 104–115. This French road guide, the first of its kind, provides itineraries as well as information about accommodations and the pecularities of the regions travelled through. 47. Derogatory expression that Protestants used to designate Catholics.
74 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ though they had ordered us to be as separated as possible from one another. We were cramped, slept badly and were rather uncomfortable, but we found a peaceful state of mind that far transcended our physical situation. Those who saw us seemed surprised, and several went as far as to say that they could hardly believe that our faith was as evil as people said, because such constant and unbearable suffering could not possibly be endured without the aid of the Lord. The daughter-inlaw of one of the prison guards told us that it would not be a good idea for her to visit us often, because we would change her into a Huguenot; and it appeared that these sorts of comments were the reason why we did not remain long in this place, where they gave us bread from the king,48 and a large bowl of soup, lean or with meat, from the city every day, which was quite enough for morning and evening, because we ate very little. We spent thirteen days in this state, patiently awaiting our fate, which became evident on the 9th of August. The vice-bailli49 of Chartres came to tell Mademoiselle de la Grolière and the youngest Ruffignac that he had an order from the king to take them to the abbey in Eau;50 that he would leave in one hour, and that in a few days he would take us all to different places. It was time for the separation to begin, for which we had already prepared ourselves, but it was an emotional and tearful event. That same evening, upon his return from Eau, he sent word to Mademoiselle du Mas, Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie, and myself to be ready to leave the following morning, which we were. On Sunday, the 10th, we were brought a carriage at eight o’clock in the morning, in the courtyard of the Conciergerie; the three of us got in, and the vice-bailli told us he was taking Mademoiselle du Mas and Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie to the abbey of Clairais together, and me alone to the abbey of Arsisse, and that upon his return he would take Mademoiselle Guiteau to the Ursulines in Vendôme, and Madame de Ruffignac to the Daughters of Calvary51 in the same place. He was our driver, along with two of his guards; and while he was on the road with us, the carriage broke down in a village named Charron, where he was forced to stay overnight with his men. On Monday the 11th, we left early in the morning and arrived at eight o’clock in Arsisse, where the vice-bailli [261] first saw the abbess, and gave her the commission along with a lettre de cachet explaining why she was to take 48. Clearly the expenses incurred by Protestants in these establishments were underwritten by the state. 49. Official of a court empowered to deal with civil and criminal cases, and cases on appeal; see Parker, La Rochelle and the French Monarchy, 207. 50. Notre Dame de l’Eau, a Cistercian abbey for women that had been destroyed by Huguenots during the French Wars of Religion and rebuilt almost immediately, just under four miles from Chartres. 51. The Daughters of the Calvary, a Benedictine Congregation of Our Lady of Calvary, founded at Poitiers in 1617 by Antoinette d’Orléans-Longueville (1572–1618) with the assistance of the Capuchin Joseph Le Clerc de Tremblay (1577–1638). See Francesca Steele, “Congregation of Our Lady of Calvary,” The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 3 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1908). .
Journal (1689) 75 me in. She and her entire community came to greet me at their door with much kindness intended to soften the bitterness of my state, if that bitterness had been less severe; but the farewells I was forced to say to my two companions, which made me feel all over again the loss of the three I had left in Ré, filled my soul with so much pain that I was unable to find any peace in this place. My two companions who went to the Clairais were received in almost the same way that I was. These two abbeys are in the Perche region, within five miles of each other. That of Arsisse is situated between two hills, as in the valley of a desert, in a canton [district] where there had never been Protestants; there was not a single person about whom I had heard. I stayed there for almost ten months, a period during which I only saw clergymen, to whom I often had to speak. The confessor of the abbey, who was rather mean, threatened me, argued with me or insulted me each time I saw him. Several others seemed much kinder and more reasonable, and after some lengthy conversations about religion, they would exchange civilities while leaving and forbid the nuns to debate with me on the subject, because, as he told the abbess, that would not change the way she feels right now, and it could lead to consequences even more harmful than you could imagine. This did not stop the curiosity of the nuns: they wanted to know how my conversations went with these men, and asked me about them when the opportunity presented itself; I had no fear in sharing this with them. In these conversations, I often sensed the truth of God’s words, when He tells His disciples not to worry about what to respond when they are questioned [by men] for His sake52 and what follows in the [scriptural] passage. With no preparation other than prayer, I listened to all that was said, I responded often in ways I did not even know I knew, and I always left unconvinced and skeptical of the quibbles and tricks of the Roman [i.e., Catholic] scholars, one of whom once told me that he feared that my knowledge of Scripture would drive me insane. They often gave me books;53 I read several in the presence of the abbess; and once [262], I came upon a bunch of lies in one of these books, where there was a confession of faith said to be of our churches that would instill horror in all those who call themselves Christians; I did not want to show the confession I kept in my New Testament in order to prove them wrong and I feared that it would be taken away from me, so I wrote another of my own belief, that the abbess found to be good in every sense. She only told me that although what I believed was good, I did not believe enough, and that I could not achieve salvation 52. Matthew 10:19–20: “But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” (NIV translation) 53. Conversion narratives by Protestant ministers were thought to be especially persuasive. See Louis Desgraves, “Un aspect des controverses entre catholiques et protestants, les récits de conversion, 1598–1628,” in La conversion au XVIIe siècle, 89–110. On the conversion of Protestant ministers after the Revocation see Luc Daireaux, “Le choix de la conversion: Les pasteurs face à la révocation de l’Édit de Nantes,” in Les convertis: Parcours religieux, parcours politiques, vol 1: Période moderne, ed. Philippe Martin and Éric Suire (Paris: Classiques Garnier, 2016), 223–40.
76 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ since I was not of the Roman [i.e., Catholic] Church. The lettre de petit cachet that had put me in this house stipulated that I would not communicate, neither within nor outside, neither by written nor spoken word. But the abbess, who was good and charitable, and who always kept in mind the rule according to which we must do unto others as we would have done unto ourselves, did not follow this order exactly. They first had me take my meals with other young boarders, in the presence of a nun instructed to monitor my behavior; but the clergymen in the neighborhood, upon learning of the situation, took away this small privilege and, against the abbess’s wishes, I was kept alone in my room where I always ate in isolation. It is true that several days after this new misfortune, an older nun, extremely reasonable and wise who had not yet spoken to me, came to see me; taking pity on me, she attempted to make it more bearable and obtained for me— without rousing the suspicions of the clergymen—permission to communicate with all the nuns who desired to see me. The abbess also gave me the freedom to take walks with them or alone whenever I wanted, and to write to my relatives, and to receive letters from them, which I had to show to her as did all the nuns. She held me in such high regard because of the docility I showed (due to my state as well as my natural inclination) in obeying her orders, as long as they did not trouble my conscience. And because of this good fortune, I received all the small pleasures that only she could give me. I worked for her and for the nuns on all projects that had nothing to do with their faith or with their superstitious beliefs, as they troubled my conscience; I shared my reasons with the abbess, who heard me out, and told me that in her opinion, it was a good thing and not a bad one to do these sorts of things; since my conscience posed a problem, she would no longer speak to me about it. [263] All the goodness of this charitable woman still did not prevent me from tasting the bitterness that I found in that place, through the superstitions that I witnessed every day, through the insults and the horrible slander that were spread against our holy faith, our reformers, and our ministers. There, as in the other places of my captivity, I was exposed to various temptations: the love of freedom, so natural to human beings; the fear of being imprisoned indefinitely, a reality with which I was constantly threatened; the sadness of the solitude in which I was forced to live eighteen or twenty hours of each day and night; the pain of being separated from those dearest to me; the loss of the people whose company I could have enjoyed, and the lack of public activities which made my perseverance all the more difficult. On these occasions I often felt the weakness of the human spirit and the effectiveness of God’s grace: flesh battled spirit, and grace always overcame and vanquished nature by far. My soul was sometimes penetrated by an indescribable affliction, and never did the mercy of my God leave my soul in this state without providing me with consolation and vibrant hopes for His help, and interior joys that are impossible to imagine without having felt them; and I must
Journal (1689) 77 constantly thank God for all the blessings He has given me during such pressing moments: He not only listened to my prayers, He fulfilled them; but before showing me the accomplishment of my prayers, He made me know that He was listening to them favorably. There were three times during our great misery that my God responded clearly to the prayers I had made to Him. The first was in Olbreuse, on Christmas Day; not knowing what to do nor where to hide, I prayed that He might grant me the mercy to leave the kingdom, or the strength to persevere on the path of truth and to resist all the temptations to which I might be exposed. He remained silent in response to my first prayer; I heard nothing in response to the second, but I heard a voice in my heart that told me: “You will persevere.” The second time was in the dungeon in Ré, on the 25th of August, when I prayed that, if God so desired, I might be placed with Mademoiselle de Saumaise: I once again felt His presence. And the third of these occasions, which I never want to nor could ever forget, was in Arsisse, during a time when I was treated very badly: [264] they told me that they wondered how I could survive deprived of religious worship and participation in the sacrament [of the Eucharist]. I prayed with all the fervor I could for the recovery of the two most important things in my life and I felt so strongly that I would get them back that I thanked this wonderful God endlessly for having listened to my prayers. But I must admit that, in my confusion, these assurances of His goodness did not always keep me from feeling fear, alarm, and pain as a result of all the threats that I received. During March of 1688, I received a letter from Paris saying that Huguenots were being expelled from France, and that I needed to prepare myself to leave soon. I was overjoyed at this news, but my excitement over this departure of which I had dreamt for so long was curbed by its perplexing delay. My worry greatly increased on the 22nd of May, when I learned that the day before, all the prisoners of the neighborhood had been taken away, and I remained alone without knowing why. This greatly increased the demands made by the nuns for me to convert; they believed that they were saddening me with their comments on this unfortunate development, which they considered a sure sign of divine will for my change, since God was leaving me there while He was taking my companions where I also would have liked to go. But finally, after two days spent struggling, I learned that they had simply forgotten me there. On the 24th of the month, a guard from Alençon came to get me from that place on the order of the prison guard; he brought me to spend the night in a small town called Mortagne, where I found Mademoiselle du Mas and Mademoiselle de la Pommeraie, with two other women from Normandy who had always persevered on the path of truth. The next morning, we rented horses to go to Cés where we spent the night and we left at dawn. We had dinner in Argentan, where we found three gentlemen who had
78 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ been freed from prison in order to be expelled from France just as we were. There, they put us all in a wagon, accompanied by two guards. We spent the night in Falaise. The next morning, on the day of Ascension, our guards, wanting to go to mass, let us sleep until nine o’clock. We were extremely tired and very much needed the rest, having spent much of [265] the previous days and nights walking. We arrived in Caen that day around six o’clock in the evening. The riffraff and scoundrels chased after us through all the streets where we passed, shouting insults and slander at us; if the guards had not stopped them by exerting the king’s authority, I think they would have stoned us. We were yelled at and insulted in several other places we went through, but less in other places than in this particular area. That night, our drivers began searching for a boat destined for Dieppe, where they were ordered to take us; but unable to find a boat ready to sail, we had to stay until Sunday morning, when a Dutch boat was to travel in that direction on its way to its homeland. During the two days of our stay in Caen, we were treated kindly by our guards, who allowed us to see several people at the hotel, and even allowed us to take walks; we had never been allowed to do so before. On Sunday, we were brought in our wagon to a village named Etran, where we and our guards boarded the boat, which was waiting for us before setting sail. Only there did our guards tell us that we would be sent to England or Holland, because until then they had assured us that we would be sent to America,54 and we were all ready to go there. The wind being favorable, we arrived in Dieppe on Monday at two o’clock in the afternoon, and after having disembarked and received all the orders from the governor to leave on the same day, our guards put us in a rowboat at eleven o’clock in the evening, to take us back to the same Flemish boat that we had left more than two miles from the shore; they said farewell to us with much kindness, esteem, and compassion. I shall not forget to say, in praise of the New Converts of Caen and Dieppe, that we saw several of them in a great deal of pain, and that they showed us much charity and empathy. We arrived at our boat at midnight, and as it was the first moment of our true freedom, we wholeheartedly thanked God who had granted us freedom in spite of appearances, and finding ourselves in His divine arms, we made our journey with great peace of mind; it went as well as we could have hoped, because, having set sail on the 1st of June, at one o’clock [266] in the morning, we arrived in Rotterdam on the 3rd at five o’clock in the evening; and, unwilling to separate before we could pray together, we all stayed in the same inn, and went to
54. Deportation to America was one of the Huguenots’ greatest fears. They were told that they would suffer many cruelties and be made slaves as were the black people in these colonies. See Pierre Jurieu, Lettres pastorales adressées aux fideles de France qui gemissent sous la captivité de Babylon, Seconde année (Rotterdam: Abraham Acher, 1688), Letters I and XII, at 7 and 265–67.
Journal (1689) 79 a [Reformed] service55 the next day, which was a Friday. On Saturday morning we said our farewells, and each person did what she thought was best. I remained for almost four months in Holland, and came here on the 29th of September. I enjoy the freedom that God has granted me, and I am willing to leave at His will to go wherever He deems necessary. I found this paper56 among the clothes that Mademoiselle de Saumaise had saved for me along with hers, but since I no longer have a fixed income, neither jointly nor individually, I found it was unnecessary to use it as an account book. Instead I decided to use this paper to pen this memoir which is based on what I wrote in France as those things were happening. Of all the people I reference, there is not a single one who did not experience constant hardship; but among them, Mademoiselle du Mas remains an admirable example for those who came to know her; she was the only woman who persevered with us in Ré; she endured with an exemplary patience the inconveniences of prison, the illnesses that frequently afflicted her, the pressing requests of a mother of whom she is the sole daughter, the loss of two children that she had in France, and the death of a husband who loved her and whom she loved tenderly. He died of the suffering inflicted upon him while in captivity in England, where he had previously escaped. Written in Balk, Friesland, in 1689 Anne de Chaufepié
Anne de Chaufepié’s memoir of the lives and deaths of her parents, written five years before her Journal. From Chaufepié, Journal manuscript, 266–68.
On the 13th of June 1684, the Lord took Monsieur de Chaufepié, my dear and honorable father, after having been confined to his bed due to a paralysis on his whole right side, from the 25th of July 1682 until the day of his death, which was that of his deliverance. He was seventy-four years, two months and ten days old, having lived in excellent physical health and freedom of mind until the time that this unfortunate sickness afflicted him. For forty-nine years and six months he was Minister of the Gospel in the same parish. His enlightening sermons [267] and his moral values had an effect on people near and far and convinced them of the truth of his doctrine and the strength of the reasons by which he supported it. 55. The term prêche (sermon) is the usual way to refer to the daily Reformed service, where the sermon was the main attraction. The term Cène (the Lord’s Supper) refers to the Eucharistic communion, celebrated less frequently. 56. Finding by happenstance a blank notebook, or “paper,” Chaufepié takes the opportunity to begin her journal.
80 ANNE DE CHAUFEPIÉ He had been twenty-one years, five months and twenty-seven days the widower of Lady Claude de la Forest, our dear and honorable mother, who was only thirtyone days younger than he, and who died the 16th of December 1662. She was a woman of great modesty, wisdom, and piety, with a vibrant spirit and a gentle disposition. My father and mother lived in a perfect union and a marriage as happy as worldly suffering and discomfort could allow, for twenty-five years, six months and thirteen days. They were married in the locality of Mausé, in Aunis, on the 2nd of June 1637, and lived in the village of Champdeniers until the day of their separation. My mother was buried there, next to two children she had brought into the world and who died long before herself. She left behind five: two sons and three daughters; she breastfed57 all seven children that the Lord had given her, and the five who survived her still survive my father today. The oldest of the boys, forty years old, is Minister of Couhé, and the youngest, thirty-eight years old, Minister of Aunay. The girls, of whom I am the oldest, are aged fortyfour, forty-two, and twenty-seven. We are still together in the village of Cherveux, where we buried my father. The prison guard and those who persecuted us were so cruel that they forced us to bring him out on a stretcher, one year before God rewarded his work and saved him from the fury of our enemies by granting him celestial beatitude and immortal glory. In addition to the knowledge expected of a loyal minister of the Gospel, he exhibited all the desirable qualities in a gracious man, and a great deal of expertise in the mechanical arts. Just as his disposition was appreciated in his close circle, his preaching was powerful to the public. And finally, after having lived in love and fear of God, he died comfortably in His grace, and rests now with [the patriarchs] Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, awaiting the happy day of resurrection, when our mortal bodies will be transformed into glorious figures in the image of our Lord Jesus Christ. To Him, as to the Father and to [268] the Holy Spirit, we attribute honor, control, strength, and magnificence, for now and forever.58 Amen. Completed in Cherveux, on the 12th of July 1684 Anne de Chaufepié
57. Physicians and moralists were strong advocates of breastfeeding, but whereas in the sixteenth century the major consideration was the health of the child, in the seventeenth century, attention shifted to the mother. See Évelyne Berriot-Salvadore, Un corps, un destin: La femme dans la médecine de la Renaissance (Paris: Honoré Champion, 1993), 187–96, and Valerie A. Fildes, Breasts, Bottles, and Babies: A History of Infant Feeding (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1986). 58. An allusion to Revelation 7:12: “Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever.” (NIV)
Madame Du Noyer, Memoirs (1703–1710) Memoirs of Madame Du Noyer, Written by Her Own Hand Du Noyer wrote her memoir to dispel the false rumors spread about her during the Refuge, the period of Huguenot exodus following the 1685 Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. The passage translated here retrospectively recounts her flight from Nîmes to The Hague soon after the Revocation and gives the reader a clear sense of the determination and endurance it took for this Huguenot woman to remain true to her faith. This text presents an unusually observant young woman who welcomes every opportunity to learn about the cities that she passes through as well as cultural and religious differences in the different regions and countries she visits. From Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 104–28 and 146–68.
[104] I agreed to leave as quickly as possible, judging from the tone of my uncle’s letter, [105] and his conviction that we could reach salvation by way of the Roman [i.e., Catholic] religion, that we could no longer count on his protection. I had written some time before to the Dutchman of whom I have already spoken, and to my uncle Petit;1 both had retreated to Holland, and I wrote to beg them to find a way for me to join them. They both responded to me, but each of them did so in a slightly different way. The Dutchman pleaded with all his heart for me to come: he told me that he had urged his father and his friends to request passports from the French Ambassador for Madame Saporta2 and myself, but that it was not possible. He thought that I would need to be clever and leave in disguise. He also indicated the areas where he believed it would be less risky to travel through, and especially urged me not to appear surprised if I was questioned, and not to have an expression on my face that could give me away. He also recommended that I go to mass if I found myself in the company of others, if I could not avoid it; I was to do everything I possibly could to leave a country from which it would be more difficult to depart with each passing day. After giving such advice, he offered me his humble services upon my arrival in his country.
1. Pierre Petit, a brother of her father. At the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, he had moved with his wife and their two daughters to The Hague. 2. See the Introduction, 10, for Madame Saporta’s role in Du Noyer’s upbringing. At the beginning of her memoir, Anne Marguerite pays tribute to this surrogate mother: “Madame Saporta was the most accomplished person of her time. She was quite beautiful, intelligent and gifted, and displayed an exemplary virtue and piety. All her qualities warned her the esteem and the veneration of our entire Province, and she was quite wealthy.” Du Noyer, Mémoires (1760), 28; translation by ReynoldsCornell, Fiction and Reality, 14.
81
82 MADAME DU NOYER My uncle Petit wrote that he found edifying the firm decision that I had made to give up [106] all that I already owned and all that I would own in the future, which amounted to a great deal. He found it admirable to find sentiments such as these in a person of my age, but thought it necessary that I exercise some moderation. He noted that because in the Declaration that the king had given to revoke the Edict of Nantes, there was an article that favored those who had not yet converted, and allowed them to remain in the comfort of their homes,3 I could use this to my advantage as I was in this situation; and finally he urged me not to waver, in case I would be fortunate enough to be judged worthy of suffering in the name of truth. I understood the tone of this letter perfectly, and I did not put much faith in the article in the king’s Declaration, which apparently was not to be taken literally. Indeed several persons who had gone to Montpellier to demand from the authorities an explanation for this article, were told that it was true that the king said, regarding those who had not yet converted, that they, like the others, would need to await God’s enlightenment. Yet as the latter had been enlightened by the dragoons, the same approach would have to be used to enlighten these people as well; and that in order to be more successful, the garrisons would be doubled. This meant that when fifty dragoons did not succeed, one hundred would be employed the following day. Indeed, we were [107] much more pressed after the Declaration than we had ever been before; as a result, I did not entertain my uncle Petit’s suggestions, and found it safer to do what God says in the Gospel, which is: when you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.4 I convinced Madame Saporta to rent a sedan chair5 from Nîmes to Lyon, and we finally departed on December 1st, 1685. However, the protection provided by the duke of Noailles,6 the frequent visits that I had made to him, and the warm 3. Louis XIV’s Declaration ordering the Revocation is available in the contemporary English translation of The French King’s Declaration, enjoining the execution of his edict in October 1685, for the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes; Given at Versailles the 13th of December 1689; Faifthfully translated from the original printed at Paris, 1689, Article XV, at page 10: “Our Will moreover is, That Our said Subjects do peaceably Enjoy their Estates and Exercise their Commerce as others do, on condition that they cause themselves to be Instructed and Confirmed in the Catholick, Apostololick and Roman Religion; That they suffer and even cause their Children to be Instructed therein; That they exactly observe all our Edicts and Declarations; and that they behave themselves on all occasions as Our Good Beloved and Faithful Subjects ought to do.” 4. Matthew 10:23 (NIV). 5. This mode of transportation was first developed in the French city of Sedan (Meuse), hence the name. The inside was upholstered and it contained a small and somewhat comfortable bench. It was generally carried by two porters. See Stephen Loft-Simson, “The European Sedan Chair: A Brief History,” . 6. Anne Jules de Noailles (1650–1708), son of Anne de Noailles (1613–1678), second duke of Noailles, named governor of Roussillon (1678) and of Languedoc (1682–1689) and marshal of France in 1693. After the Revocation, he was charged with suppressing Huguenot rebellions in Languedoc-Roussillon.
Memoirs (1703–1710) 83 welcome that he had given me began to provoke rumors. And as there are always many people who are inclined to poorly judge their neighbors, a rumor began to circulate that we had taken steps to convert, and that our perseverance was simply a pretense to advance our cause. The detractors were further encouraged in this thought when they heard that we were heading for Paris. It was said openly that we were going there to find glory in our conversion and to benefit from the renown of Père la Chaise,7 under the authority of whom my uncle Cotton8 had abjured. Such were the circumstances in which I began to find myself slandered.9 As God knew the truth, and as I hoped that time would make the truth known, I consoled myself for having been slandered, and all my pain arose from the incertitude [108] of our voyage’s successful completion. From Nîmes we went to Uzès to have dinner, then to Bagnols to spend the night; nothing unfortunate happened during the trip. In Bagnols, we found a minister named Monsieur Perin with his supposed wife, and Mademoiselle Durand, wife of the minister Jean Durand, with four children. She was going to join her husband in Switzerland. Out of her four children, there were only two who were included in the passport that she had obtained from Monsieur de Basville, the others being older than seven. At first, we were wary of one another; but after developing a mutual sense of trust, we agreed to travel together to Lyon. The minister told us that the demoiselle who was accompanying him was not his wife, but that he was willing to have her pass as such in order to save her; since, as I already noted, ministers were allowed to emigrate with their wives and their children who were under seven. This unfortunate demoiselle begged us to ask for a room with two beds; at first, she laid down in one of them, but no sooner had the cabaret servants gone than she left the bed to her pretend husband and came to sleep in ours. This arrangement [109] continued until we reached Lyon. The good Mademoiselle Durand was very worried for the two children – a boy and a girl— who were above the age determined by the ruling. When we would approach a city where she believed she would have to show her passport, she would ask the children to get out of the carriage and walk to the other side of town to wait for us. As for Madame Saporta and me, nothing was asked of us until we reached Pont Saint-Esprit. There I was obliged to see Monsieur de Montanegues who was in charge. I presented him the passport delivered by Monsieur de Noailles and he showed me much consideration. I found the sedan chair to be extremely uncomfortable; a man going to Paris in a similar carriage took pity on my suffering and kindly offered me one 7. For Père la Chaise, see Introduction, note 41. 8. Gaspard Cotton (d. 1691 or 1692), Anne Marguerite’s maternal uncle, master of the household to the marshal of Lorges, never married. He lived in Paris and converted to Catholicism around that time. 9. According to her opening statement, Anne Marguerite wrote this memoir to dispel the calumny that had spread about her and her ways; see Introduction, 21.
84 MADAME DU NOYER of his horses; two of his most beautiful were led by hand. He insisted in showing such compassion that Madame Saporta, who saw that I was in excruciating pain, allowed me to accept his offer. As soon as I was on horseback I felt better; Mademoiselle Durand’s daughter, who was in such discomfort riding the mule carrying our luggage, took my place in Madame Saporta’s sedan chair. [110] As a result, we were all more comfortable and remained this way from Bagnols to Lyon. Mounted securely on the horse, and being a pretty good rider, I would always arrive at our lodgings long before our troupe. Thus I avoided the inevitable interrogation, which we feared so terribly. On our route, I saw Pilate’s Château: it is near Saint-Valier.10 Many people claim that this unrighteous judge, unable to withstand his exile or the guilt over the crime he had committed, threw himself from the top of the château to the rocks below; others believed that he jumped off the Vienne Bridge into the Rhône River. The only thing we can be sure of is that sometime after the death of our Savior, he was relocated by Emperor Tiberius to this city, which is one of the main cities of the Dauphiné region. I was shown the house where he was said to have lived, which still bears his name. It is an old shack, with only one remaining tower called Pilate’s Tower. Before arriving in Vienne, I was very frightened, because we had to pass through Valence, and I was terrified to fall into the hands of the vicious La Rapine,11 who gained notoriety due to his brutalities. If I wanted to tell those stories, I would need to write a separate volume, and an oversized volume at that. He had conceived crimes specifically targeting [111] those of our sex, crimes that politeness prevents me from explaining. Suffice it to say that God kept us from falling into his hands, and that after five days of walking we were fortunate enough to arrive in Lyon with more fear than pain. There, everyone parted ways: the minister with his supposed wife; Mademoiselle Durand and her two little children continued their way to Geneva without difficulty. Madame Saporta and I stopped by the house of a tailor near the St. Pierre Abbey; his wife once served one of my relatives. We told these people that we were going to Paris, and that we were waiting for some money to be delivered to us before we could continue our journey, and after agreeing upon a fee for our lodging, we urged them not to speak about us to anyone. These people had always been Catholic, and so we were in great security at their house. Because Madame Saporta and I were unknown in Lyon, we went out every day hoping to find a way to travel to Geneva. Many 10. On the legend of Pilate’s Château situated in Ponsas, about 2.5 miles from St. Vallier, see George Bradshaw, Bradshaw’s Illustrated Travellers’ Handbook to France (London: W. J. Adams, 1855), 103–105. 11. A certain Guichard, also called La Rapine or d’Hérapine, director of Valence hospital known for his use of physical torture to convert stubborn Protestants. See the letter that Blanche Gamond wrote about the cruelties she was subjected to at this hospital, “De l’Hôpital de la Rapine de Valence [October 20, 1687]: A. M. Murrat Pasteur Refugié à Lausanne,” in Jurieu, Lettres pastorales, Seconde année, Letter XV, 355–58.
Memoirs (1703–1710) 85 people were involved in this business, but it was difficult to know whom to trust. Madame Saporta reached out to a widow named [112] Mademoiselle Patror, with whom Mademoiselle Durand had left the two children that she had been unable to take with her. This widow had a daughter; at first they both appeared zealous and eager to help those who wanted to leave the kingdom; however, few people would admit to relying on them in this way. As for me, I admit to doing so, but I lost something of value in the process: we were unable to retrieve a necklace with large and perfectly round pearls that Madame Saporta had entrusted to her, and that was worth a lot of money. We thought at the time that this woman was the best acquaintance we could have made: she put us in touch with several guides, but her efforts ultimately led to nothing. I ventured out one day with Mademoiselle Durand’s daughter, who was about my age, and I got Madame Saporta to agree to my joining up with a group of women who promised to take us safely to Geneva through the Dauphiné mountains. We would need to complete some thirty-five miles on foot,12 disguised as young boys. None of this deterred me; [113] I felt no regret as I watched my beautiful long hair fall to the ground, and after putting on the rags that I was given, I joined in this group of women and remained with them as far as Lyon’s Guillotiere neighborhood where I saw things that made me fear that they were not to be trusted. I shared my suspicions with my companion, and we left them there and returned to Lyon early that night. Madame Saporta rejoiced at my return; she was already terribly alarmed, and she regretted having consented to my leaving without her. Indeed, we incurred great risks by trusting these sorts of people. We heard countless stories of women like us being murdered. A merchant woman from Nîmes was robbed, raped, and assassinated by the guide who was accompanying her. Everywhere we heard nothing but stories of people who had been killed or arrested after having been betrayed by their guides. All of this made Madame Saporta very nervous. It is under these circumstances that I wrote to a certain Monsieur Muffard from Montpellier, a sort of ally [coreligionist] of mine who had fled to Geneva. I begged him to provide us with a way to get out of this predicament; but he knew of no way other than to trust our guides, and he strongly advised me to [114] risk it all, and to spare nothing to get myself out of this nightmare: these were his terms. After this he told me that when I was to arrive in Geneva, I would simply have to ask for the house of Monsieur Minutoli, a professor of rhetoric, where he was staying, and where I would be most welcomed, but he insisted that I should hurry. Mademoiselle Durand’s daughter, who was dying to be reunited with her family, left early one morning without saying a word to me. She passed by the guards pretending to be mute and played her role so well 12. Here and elsewhere in her memoir, Du Noyer mentions that she found walking difficult. ReynoldsCornell argues in Fiction and Reality, 15, that as she grew stouter year and after year, she had difficulty walking even short distances without much discomfort .
86 MADAME DU NOYER that they were fooled and let her through. It is pretty difficult for those of our sex to refrain from speaking; she did it nonetheless, and her silence was rewarded. Monsieur Muffard wrote to me and told me that he had seen her arrive alone in Geneva and was quite upset that I was not with her; he found that I had lacked courage in such a determining moment. But it was not my fault; it was Madame Saporta’s anxiety that stopped us. However, our stay in Lyon began to arouse suspicion amongst our hosts; we did not know what reasons to give as pretext for our being there; the time we spent awaiting the bill of exchange had long passed; they found us worried; and although we had showed them the passport delivered by Monsieur de Noailles [115], they kept talking about us. We feared foul play when we were informed of an opportunity, supposedly the safest way to pass through. An innkeeper from Seissel, a border town in Savoie, had a passport from Monsieur de Villeroy, archbishop of Lyon, to go to his house, with a young cook’s apprentice. Since he could only provide a spot for this apprentice, he could only take one person, and that person needed to be young in order to pass for a small boy. I was young and much shorter than I am now;13 therefore, I was perfect for the spot. Madame Saporta did not come around to it easily; she could not bear being separated from me, but I made her feel guilty, which ultimately forced her to consent to my departure. We agreed with this man on a fee for my transport; we gave him half of the money in advance, and the other half was to be given to him by Monsieur Ham in Geneva as soon as I arrived there. Aside from that, I was bought a horse that I had to give to him as well. Upon our arrival in Seissel, he was to take me to his home, only some fifteen miles from Geneva, and helped me cross the Rhône River during the night by way of a [116] bridge that leads directly to the Savoie region. After everything was taken care of and we struck a deal at the home of an honest man from Lyon, who had served as our go-between, we went to a second-hand clothing shop to buy boy’s clothing: a shirt, a tie, shoes, a hat, and so forth. My hair had already been cut to my ears, and because it was naturally curly, I really looked like a boy. Madame Saporta broke down in tears as I put on my new disguise: as soon as I finished getting dressed, I asked for her blessing and left her in a heartbreaking state almost impossible to describe. She had not let me leave her sight since my mother’s death, and even though she hoped to soon join me in Geneva (as my guide promised to come back for her as soon as he brought me there), she still could not find a way to ease the pain of my leaving. It was the afternoon of January 1st, 1686. I was to travel on foot until I reached the gate of the town called the Croix-Rousse. It was not without difficulty, because the boy’s clothing, to which I was unaccustomed, made me extremely 13. Because of her exceedingly short size and her rather rotund stature, she was later given the nickname Girgoule, meaning mushroom, by a young officer from Gascony who had met her in Holland. See Reynolds-Cornell, Reality and Fiction, 14.
Memoirs (1703–1710) 87 uncomfortable. There, I found my guide on my horse; I followed him for some time on foot, and when we were a little further from the city, he let me mount the horse and followed me on foot. He [117] took me to spend the night five miles outside of Lyon, cautioning me to speak to him very respectfully when we were in front of others if I wanted to avoid arousing suspicion. He called me Claude, and after having me get off my horse before arriving at the lodging, he entered while ordering me, as a master would, to take his horse to the stable. I did so, and after leaving the horse with a stable boy, I entered the kitchen. As soon as the hostess saw me, she found me to be pale and said that my voice was very weak. This scared me, and I feared that I had been discovered; but I pretended that I had quartan fever, and so my supposed master brought me close to the fire and allowed me to eat with him. Because I feared long discussions, as soon as I had eaten a morsel and had warmed up a bit, I asked to go to bed. An alert little servant girl whom I had asked for a bed in order to sleep alone because of my fever, provided me with a wretched pallet. My greatest concern was that I would have to undress in front of this young girl, as she remained there to provide light for me. Finally, believing that in order to pass for a boy I would need to be daring, I resolved to be forward with her to the best of my ability; and in order to be more persuasive, I took an écu out of my pocket which I offered to her, and which she refused at first. As I did not [118] want to be taken at my word, I did not insist. She left the room, and I quickly removed my shoes and my coat14 and got into my bed with the rest of my clothes. A moment later, the young girl came back quietly, which worried me greatly. I had put myself into a situation that I had no idea how to resolve. I finally found no better option than to pretend to already be asleep, and to appear to wake up suddenly. When she approached the bed, I screamed and she said to me: “Do not be afraid, sir, it’s me.” I replied that it was not a good time, and that she should leave me to sleep in peace. This girl, offended by my rejection, complained to her mistress about the propositions I had made to her, which eliminated the suspicions she might have initially had about my sex, given my paleness and the tone of my voice. This is how I got myself out of trouble on the first night. The next morning, we departed before sunrise and in the worst weather conditions possible; we ate dinner in Saint-Rambert, my master always ensuring that I not only got off the horse when we arrived, but also led it by the bridle while following him. This way of traveling was not my preference; nonetheless, I had to make concessions. Because I did not understand this type of conduct at all, I did [119] everything backwards, and this man who was horribly brutal would insult me in every way possible. In the beginning, I believed that it was to better hide his 14. From 1650 on and throughout the eighteenth century, the term “coat” designated “a close fitting coat worn over a waistcoat; or, a riding coat.” See Valerie Cumming, C. Willett Cunnington, and Phillis E. Cunnington, The Dictionary of Fashion History (Oxford: Berg, 2010), online at .
88 MADAME DU NOYER game; but I soon realized that this cruelty was in his nature, because he treated me the same way when no one else was around, and threatened to turn me over to the guards for the smallest thing. On the second day, we arrived in Roussillon. When I entered the kitchen, I found a merchant from Geneva near the fire; if I remember correctly, he was named Monsieur de Saussure. There were also a priest and a judge from the area. These two were making fun of the man from Geneva who, despite having a good passport, did not dare respond out of fear that he would get into trouble. The judge was talking about the people who had been arrested and the sorts of disguises they had used. All of this terrified me. But my fear was far greater when both the priest and the judge turned to me and said, “Here is a little rascal who could easily be a Huguenot.” I was very upset to see myself addressed that way. However, I responded with as much firmness as I could, “I can assure you, sir, that I am as much a Catholic as I am a boy.” My master confirmed what I had said, and in order not to give them time [120] to examine me further, I promptly asked for permission to go to bed. I said I had scabies so as to have a bed to myself, and I got into it with my breeches and all. The next morning, my master demanded money from me and said that he would take it into account when we arrived in Geneva, and I was forced to give him all the money that I had. After that, he took me up a high mountain, and because I was disguised as a boy and there were no inns around that area, he took me to a monastery of Carthusians who lived there in solitude.15 In the afternoon, we entered a large forest with paths so perilous that there was no way to travel through on horseback. But it was far worse when we had to descend the mountain, walking constantly on ice which caused me to fall again and again. My master swore like a sailor because this was slowing him down: he insulted me constantly and threatened to break my neck at every moment. Finally, tired of hearing him swear, and drained from falling and getting back up over and over due to the steep descent, I remained on my backside and let myself slide down the mountain all the way to the bottom, where after much difficulty we found ourselves in Seissel. It was nighttime when we entered the city; my master brought me to his house and gave me a [121] wretched pallet in his wife’s room. He had promised to help me cross the bridge that night and to take me to Geneva the following morning; but he wanted to rest at his house, and made me stay there from Tuesday evening until Friday at the same time. I spent all that time in bed for fear of being recognized by the people who came in, and I was very cautious neither to cough nor to give any sign of life, and made sure to keep my curtains 15. A Catholic order of enclosed monks committed to a solitary and contemplative life, founded in 1084 by Saint Bruno of Cologne (c. 1030–1101). See in The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 3 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1908), the articles by Ambrose Mougel, “St. Bruno”: ; and Douglas Raymund Webster, “The Carthusian Order”: .
Memoirs (1703–1710) 89 closed. Those people were obligated by our agreement to feed me until we reached Geneva; but they hardly fed me: I went almost all day without eating while I could see people eating heartily through my curtains. I did not dare complain. Finally, when those people left and I asked for something, I was given the tiniest portions of cabbage or poorly-prepared turnip, as well as very coarse black bread;16 all of this seasoned with continuous insults and threats. When I wanted a drink, they gave me water in the same bowl out of which I had eaten my soup, without even rinsing it. I was forced to either accept these conditions or throw myself out the window, because as soon as I complained, I was told that those in prison were not as well off as I was, and [122] that if I argued, they would put me there; therefore, I had no choice but to suffer. The nights I spent were as difficult as the days; I did not feel safe in the hands of such people, and I stayed awake in order to protect myself, for fear of foul play while I was sleeping. Every night, I heard the guards arresting unfortunate passersby on the bridge. Every morning, there was a new story and my master would tell me indifferently that if he were unable to find a way to help me cross the bridge, he would hand me over to the authorities so as to avoid exposing himself. Taking into account the little consideration those people showed me, I realized that I had everything to fear from them; I was terribly worried. This continued until Friday evening, when I was woken up hastily to be taken to the other side of town, where I boarded a small boat to travel across the Rhône River (because crossing the bridge was too risky). Those in charge of the boat were inebriated and feared that the boat would capsize, which made me utter a scream; but my brutal master, who feared that we might be heard from the bridge, threatened to throw me into the [123] river, and almost did so. When we arrived at the other side of the river and I asked for my horse, he told me that he had sold it and that I could travel to Geneva on foot since there were only fifteen miles left to go. I said that I was exhausted, but it did not matter and I was forced to walk or drag myself to the first village, which was a great distance away. I was so overtaken by the cold, fatigue, poor nutrition, and all the fears that I had, that when we arrived in that village, I did not even have the strength to take another step: I pleaded with my master, in the name of God, to rent a horse of any kind. He began by saying that there were no horses in that area; and finally, after I begged incessantly, he said that it would cost money. I responded that he was well aware that I had already given him my last penny, but he replied that he had seen my watch and that I needed to hand it over, or continue on foot. I was forced to consent because, as they say, those with power make the rules. I gave over my watch and was brought into a decrepit cottage where I rested while my travel gear—which consisted of a small mule with a packsaddle and rope stirrups—was being prepared. I mounted 16. In French usage, the expression “she is eating her black bread” signifies that one is having great troubles and is struggling through them.
90 MADAME DU NOYER the mule before daybreak and [124] we traveled steadily until reaching Geneva, where we did not arrive before three o’clock in the afternoon, as the distances in this country are terribly long, and the paths, which are difficult, were made even worse by the snow. I was extremely uncomfortable on my horse and, on top of that, my stomach was empty; but I suffered all of these conditions in the hope of soon finding peace, and I can say that I had never in my life felt a greater joy than that which I felt when I saw the bell tower of Geneva, the city of which I had dreamt for so long. As soon as we approached the Arves Bridge, where the Savoie territory ends, my master ordered me in his usual tone to get off my mule. We crossed an open area called Pleinpalais on foot, and when we were about to enter the city, we found the gate shut. I did not know what to think about this, because once you have been frightened, you become fearful of everything. But finally, after waiting for some time, the gate was opened and I discovered that it had been shut because a fire had broken out somewhere. It was customary to shut the gate in such cases for fear of some surprise. During my stay in that city, I noted that when the residents yelled “fire,” they simultaneously yelled “Arm yourselves.” While entering the city, my master left me to go [125] find his banker, and I set up a meeting for him that evening at the home of Monsieur Minutoli, where I had agreed with Madame Saporta that I would go upon my arrival, per the suggestion of our ally [coreligionist] Monsieur Muffard. Although the home of Monsieur Minutoli was well-known in Geneva, I had a difficult time finding it, and I ran around the whole city looking for it; I had either asked the wrong person, or it had been poorly explained to me. Finally, after many detours, I was told to take the steps down to Poulle [Passage des Degrés-de-Poules]. While I was wandering along these underground paths, I saw a merchant from Nîmes whom I recognized. I called him by his name and implored him to take me to the home of Monsieur Minutoli, which he did, without knowing whom he was helping. He was surprised that I asked about his wife, and that I spoke to him with an air of familiarity; and after having looked at me closely, he said, “My friend, where are you from?” I told him that I was from Nîmes, and that I was surprised that he did not recognize me. Finally, after many questions, I told him who I was. I have never seen a man more surprised. While talking, we eventually found ourselves at Monsieur Minutoli’s door. I asked the merchant to announce my arrival, and to have Monsieur Muffard come down. Monsieur Muffard was absent; but Monsieur Minutoli, who knew that [126] I was on my way and who was pleased to see me, came down to the courtyard to welcome me in the kindest and most gracious way. “Monsieur, or Mademoiselle,” he said to me, “you are very welcome here. Your aunt, Madame Saporta, wrote to Monsieur Muffard to tell him of your departure from Lyon, and we have been eagerly waiting for you.” After that he took me upstairs to his wife,
Memoirs (1703–1710) 91 the beautiful daughter of Monsieur Fabri, the first syndic.17 Their handsome children surrounded me right away, as well as several British lords who were staying with them. Each person asked me how I had got myself out of my predicament, and while I was responding to their questions, we heard Monsieur Muffard enter. Monsieur Minutoli wanted to play a trick on him: he stopped him on the way up to tell him that I had been arrested in a nearby town called Culle, and that a little boy had come to tell him this unfortunate news. Monsieur Muffard received the news with great sorrow, and I was pleased to learn on this occasion of the concern he felt for me. Finally, after expressing much regret and taking pity on my situation in the most touching way, he asked to see the little boy who had allegedly witnessed [127] my misfortune. Monsieur Muffard was brought into the room where I was sitting next to the fire. He seemed sad, but as soon as his eyes fell on me, he knew he had been fooled, and he looked delighted to see me. Everyone congratulated me, and I believed myself to be already in heaven where, they say, after penance comes joy. The time came to eat, and the dinner was so delicious that I would have considered it a treat if Monsieur Muffard had not told me that Monsieur Minutoli felt obligated to feed his boarders, the milords, well, which he did. During dinner, Monsieur Minutoli, who was very spirited and polite, told a few nice little tales, and after the table was cleared, we saw my master with Monsieur Ham, who had refused to settle the bill of exchange without knowing if I was satisfied, and was extremely surprised to learn of the way in which I had been treated. I was asked if I wanted this man to be punished for all the suffering he had caused me; but I refused and I forgave him gladly, considering his instrumental role in my reaching safety. I only demanded that my watch be returned to me, and that the money that I had given him during our trip be taken into account. What made Monsieur Minutoli laugh was that this man claimed to have taken good care of me; [128] he said that they should take into account that he had never hit me, that the insults did not cause harm, and that, every day, he insulted his own wife just as much. He left after that, and Monsieur Minutoli, despite my outrageous attire, had me share a bed with one of his daughters, who was named Drion. The next morning, I was given girls’ clothes while I waited for my own, which had been given to a messenger from Lyon; after they arrived, I reassumed my sex that I had left eight days earlier. • Madame Saporta remained in Lyon for a while longer, unable to find reliable guides to escape to Switzerland. She finally returned to Paris to join her brother and his wife, but she was forced to abjure her faith. Meanwhile, fugitive Huguenots 17. A government official.
92 MADAME DU NOYER passing through Geneva were strongly advised not to stay in that city since it was so close to the French border. Accordingly, Anne Marguerite continued her journey, hoping to go to The Hague. Her uncle Monsieur Cotton, with whom she corresponded, wrote that he would try to find a position for her as lady-in-waiting to the princess of Nassau.18 After having spent a week in Lausanne, Anne Marguerite resumed her journey with a new group of traveling companions.
[146] After having spent eight days [in Lausanne], as I just noted, we left in a convoy that was to take us to Bern. My uncle had a brother who also wanted to seek his destiny in Holland with his wife and their two children. We were [147] all put together in a cart, along with my elderly bedmate who was taking the same route. Because these types of vehicles are really jerky, I had a hard time dealing with all the bumps; but ultimately, we make do with what we have. We spent the night in Modon [Moudon] and dined the following day in Palierne [Payerne]; a while after dinner, near an area called Vange [Avenches], we were shown an ancient pillar on which a stork comes every year to make its nest. It was there that I first began to see these types of birds, which, as the people of this country say, are happy only in republics, since there are none to be seen in any kingdom. Indeed, I found many of them in Holland, but none in England. I will not say that it is for this reason; that would mean that animals are capable of making conscious decisions, and would call into question the theory of Descartes.19 Therefore, without concerning myself with the different positions taken by Ancient and Modern philosophers,20 I leave it to the Naturalists21 to determine the causes. We spent that night in Morat, and a short while before arriving in that town, we were shown a chapel gated on all four sides, where the bones of fifty thousand Burgundian men lay stacked on top of each other; the Swiss wish to
18. Albertine Agnes of Nassau (1634–1696), fifth daughter of stadtholder of Holland, Frederick Henry, prince of Orange-Nassau (1584–1647) and wife of Wilhem Frederick of Nassau-Dietz (1613–1664), 19. Reference to René Descartes’ belief that animals are automata, therefore lacking reason, thought, and self-consciousness. For a more nuanced interpretation of his views see John Cottingham, “Descartes’ Treatment of Animals,” in Descartes, ed. John Cottingham (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 225–33; and Peter Harrison, “Descartes on Animals,” Philosophical Quarterly 42, no. 167 (1992): 219–27. 20. A late-seventeenth-century and early-eighteenth-century debate pitted the “Ancients”—those who claimed that the writers of Antiquity had achieved superiority in intellectual matters—against the “Moderns”—those who maintained that the present-day writers were in fact more knowledgeable and more refined in their tastes than their predecessors. On the French debate, see Hubert Gillot, La querelle des anciens et des modernes en France: De la défense et illustration de la langue française aux parallèles des anciens et des modernes (Paris: Édouart Champion, 1914). 21. Those philosophers like Descartes searching for a theory of nature (a comprehensive physics) including living things.
Memoirs (1703–1710) 93 keep their remains [on the site where they fell],22 and assembled them to create [148] a [memorial]. The next morning, we left Morat and spent the third evening of our journey in Bern. When we were at the city gates, the guards stopped our cart. We did not know what this meant at first; but a moment later, one of them stepped forward and directed us to the Faucon Inn, which is the best in the city, and I cannot praise enough the generosity of these Swiss men, who paid for all the refugees who passed through their country.23 We rested for eight days in this pleasant inn at the expense of some men in Bern, and when we wanted to leave, we were given vehicles to take us to Zurich. Our drivers were ordered to cover our travel expenses; therefore we did not need to be frugal, which, in my opinion, is one of the greatest inconveniences of traveling. We continued this way from one region to the next, always experiencing the same hospitality. Bern is a beautiful town, well-built and secure; its outskirts are charming as well. We passed through enchanting woods before arriving there; but it surprised me to see numbers and letters carved into the tree trunks, just as if we had been on the banks of the Lignon River.24 I admit that I [149] would not have imagined finding such gallantry and consideration among the Swiss; this is how they are, and almost every tree is a testament to their refined nature. While entering the city, we were shown the armed giant Goliath, depicted on the gate, and little David across from him portrayed on a fountain with a slingshot in hand.25 There are an infinite number of fountains like that, with figures representing sacred as well as profane stories. An even more pleasant aspect of this city is that no matter the weather, you will always be sheltered, because on each side of every street there are archways like the one at the Place-Royale in Paris. This is so common that only horses and vehicles pass in the middle of the streets, and that you will always be protected from mud and bad weather. As soon as I got to Bern, I ran to the home of Monsieur Lavoyer d’Herlac to see Monsieur Peirol, the zealous pastor of Nîmes 22. The Battle of Morat of 1476 was a stunning victory for the Swiss confederation, but Charles the Bold’s Burgundian force of some twenty-five thousand suffered fatalities of closer to ten than fifty thousand soldiers. See the Encyclopedia Britannica: . 23. The Swiss were indeed very generous with Huguenot refugees as “Switzerland was the most important transit country” for them. Various cantons—Francophone as well as German—helped refugees with provisionary accommodations and transport facilities, and offered them money, clothes and medical assistance if needed. See Yardeni, “Assimilation and Integration,” 285–87. 24. Reference to Honoré d’Urfé’s homeland and the bucolic landscape and river of his famous novel L’Astrée (written between 1607 and 1627). The third part of L’Astrée is dedicated by the author to the Lignon River, which emerges as the original secretary of the author’s imaginations and as an actual protagonist in the novel. 25. The battle between Goliath and David symbolizes Bern’s religious struggle and its victory over a supposed invincible opponent through its unquestioning faith in God’s Word. For the history of this fountain see Glenn Ehrstine, Theater, Culture, and Community in Reformation Bern: 1523–1555 (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 150–51.
94 MADAME DU NOYER of whom I have already spoken, who was delighted to see one of his flock come to him. He offered to provide a position for me in Bern, but I had already decided to continue my journey with my uncle Noguier, and to make up my mind when I reached Frankfurt, whether I would go to Saxony or to The Hague to stay with my uncle Petit. The good Monsieur Peirol gave me a detailed and extremely favorable testimony, which I thought necessary to include here. [150] Testimony of Monsieur Peirol, Minister of Nîmes, signed by several other pastors, given in Bern on March 11th, 1686, in favor of Anne Marguerite Petit. We the undersigned pastors certify that Demoiselle Anne Marguerite Petit, daughter of the late gentleman Monsieur Petit, has consistently professed our sacred religion, and has shown in her conduct all the virtues expected of women of her quality. In addition to a precise knowledge of her religion, she demonstrated a strong eagerness to profess it and to sacrifice her possessions; she exposed herself to many dangers and tribulations to better serve God according to her conscience. This is the testimony that we provide on her behalf, recommending her to the grace of God, and asking those of our brothers whom she may approach to recognize her as a true member of the Holy Body of Christ. Signed in Bern on March 11th, 1686 by Peirol, Pastor of the Church of Nîmes; Monsieur E. de Saussure, French Minister of Bern; Brugner, Pastor of the Church of Cheylar. I support this testimony entirely, as I know the piety and the zeal of Mademoiselle Petit. Signed Arbussi, Minister of the Church of Puilaurens; [151] Bouton, Minister of Aleth in Languedoc; Noguier, former Minister of Bernis in Languedoc near Nîmes, and now called upon to be Pastor in Groningue; De Barthelemy, Pastor of the Church of Molière in Cévènes; Noguier, Minister of Boucairan in Bas-Languedoc; and Labrune, previously Minister to the President of Vignoles in her château in Cornonterail, in Languedoc. Signed in Heidelberg on April 15th, 1686.
All the ministers that I knew were willing to support this testimony. In Bern, I found a woman from Nîmes named Madame d’Arbeau who had found refuge in
Memoirs (1703–1710) 95 this country with nine children, sometime after her husband’s conversion,26 and a short while before the change of public opinion toward Huguenots. Because she had left before the large-scale emigration, the Bern residents showed themselves to be very charitable toward her and her family; they took care of her children. Monsieur de Graferier welcomed her into his home, and beyond the gifts that she received, she had a pension from the State to live off of; she actually seemed to me to be living very comfortably. She always had great company and Monsieur d’Arbussi, Minister of Puilaurens, was [152] a regular at her home. He was one of those men of great wit and refinement. He had a wonderful talent for writing poetry; it was he who responded with a tender elegy to the poem Monsieur d’Arbeau had sent to his wife. I spent a week in Bern in this coterie. Madame Vildein, wife to the lieutenant colonel of the Herlac regiment, gave us all a magnificent gift: we walked a great deal and saw the German Church (which is very beautiful), the arsenal, the bears (which are kept in the ditches surrounding the city since they are on its coat of arms); and finally, on the day of our departure, we were taken onto the Aar River which, though its waters are not rapids, is still extremely dangerous because of its rocks. We almost died on the second day of our journey, very near… Our boatman thought we were lost, and when people in the area saw from a distance what was happening, they thought that we would not survive. We felt more fear than pain; as for me, I was not as afraid as the rest of the group, be it out of courage, as they say, or out of recklessness. We arrived at the inn soaking wet, as much water had entered our boat. When we gathered around the hearth, we found [153] two men who were playing cards; their clothes were lined with sable fur, and they seemed like people of rank. One of them was the Marquis of Quastrane, and the other the Baron of Serres; they told us that they were Spanish and that they were coming from Venice. They wanted to have dinner with us. A demoiselle from Châlon-sur-Saone joined our group; her name was Mademoiselle Plante-Amour [“made for love”]. I do not believe her name reflected her appearance, for she was anything but pretty. However, in order to separate myself from my elderly bedmate, I connected with her, and we tried every evening to have some wretched pallet to ourselves. As we were the two youngest people in the group, the two strangers sat down next to us at the table and made small talk as men often make a habit of doing with women. They even asked my companion, whom they found to be more easily persuaded than I, to convince me that the four of us should spend the whole night chatting around the hearth. This was because, while we were dining, my elderly bedmate had slipped 26. In her “Letter to Messieurs de Berne” dated September 10, 1685 (Staatsarchiv des Kantons Zürich E I 25.10), Madame d’Arbaud recounts the circumstances of her escape from France with her children. On Isabeau de Moynier, voir Bonne de Charnisay, “Les chiffres de M. l’abbé Rouquette: étude sur les Fugitifs du Languedoc (Uzès),” Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 60, no. 4 (1911) 317–30. On her husband, Jean d’Arbaud, see E. and É. Haag, La France protestante, 2e ed., 1: 308–10.
96 MADAME DU NOYER into the bed that the two of us had reserved, and there was no way of getting her out of it. All she could do was offer to make room, and to sleep in between us. We were not pleased with this option; I was also wary of [154] accepting the proposition that these men had made to my companion, and so I took a little sack of salt, that I placed under my head, and went to bed on the ground in my uncle’s room, on the tile with nothing other than this sack, which was no softer than the stone out of which Jacob once made a headrest.27 My companion followed my example and laid down next to me for the night. At daybreak, she went down and found the two horsemen near the hearth, who had not slept at all during the night. They sent the host to tell me that they did not want to leave without paying their respects to me; but I would only go downstairs with my uncle and aunt. I found the men ready to mount their horses; they became even more polite when they saw me, and after wishing them a safe trip, we got back on our boat which took us to a place half a day away from Zurich. We completed the rest of the trip in a cart. When we entered the city, we found (just as in Bern) people who took us to an inn at the canton’s expense. We remained another week in Zurich, where we found Monsieur and Madame Teissier from Nîmes; it was a great pleasure to find myself still in a country in which I found old friends. Zurich is a large and beautiful city, with a river passing through the [155] center; but because of that, I like Bern more.28 The women there are not dressed in such a peculiar fashion as in Zurich, except for the cape29 which is a perruque30 similar to the wigs of priests, and which suits people with attractive faces; apart from that, the women are dressed modestly, they look like everyone else, and at the very least, their faces are visible. The girls let their hair hang in large braids, and the women hide themselves under their perruques; therefore, upon first glance, it is easy to distinguish a girl from a woman; but the clothing worn by the ladies of Zurich is unattractive: a pleated frock made of coarse cloth, like the habits of Benedictine priests, with sleeves dangling at their sides; they cross their arms in these huge sleeves. On their heads, they wear a headband that goes down all the way to their eyes, and a thick cloth over that, and under the chin another cloth creased like a hand towel, which covers the face up to the top lip, to the point where only the tip of their noses can be seen. They go to church and come back as a group, two by two, gazing downward; seeing them walk in this order makes one think of a procession of black penitents. After 27. Genesis 28:18–19. 28. Bern’s Aare River wraps around the city and does not flow through it. 29. A border of hair that was fixed to a “cap,” as, for example, locks to cover the ears and necks. See Richard Corson, Fashions in Hair: The First Five Thousand Years (London: Peter Owen, 1965), 219. 30. The words per(r)uque, peruke, periwyk, periwig or perawicke were generally used for a set of false or borrowed hair. In France, the clergy, for the most part, was outraged at the new fashion and the Reformed church was just as hostile. On the different types of wigs in use and the clergy controversy about the use of wigs, see Corson, Fashions in Hair, 215–36.
Memoirs (1703–1710) 97 this, they retreat into their homes. Couples are closely-bonded in this country; people [156] are married extremely young, and the severity of the law ensures that each man remains with his woman, and that when you do not have what you love, you love what you have; because adultery is punishable by death in Zurich, and no one complains about that law. Therefore, a woman can count on the fidelity of her husband, and as a result, she is protected from jealousy, the cruel disease of other nations. We were shown the arsenal and the library, which are the most curious buildings in Zurich. I remember that I saw there a woman’s skin prepared like that of a chamois;31 there were a number of skeletons, and a hundred other things that were held in high esteem, that I did not find to be very pleasant. Because our number kept growing as a result of recruiting in every place that we passed through, we separated into two groups. The gentlemen from Zurich gave us two carts to take us to Schaffhausen. My uncle and my aunt got into the first, and I was directed to get into the second with their brother and their sister-in-law. My uncle wanted to preach on Good Friday in Heidelberg, so he did not stop in Schaffhausen, and when we arrived there, we found that he had already left; but he passed along a message to us through a young pastor named Monsieur Salue, saying that he would be waiting for us in Heidelberg. This young pastor was from our [157] country, and since he also wanted to go to Holland, he joined us in the cart that the gentlemen of Shaffhausen had given us to take us away from their lands. After that, we entered the region of Swabia; we were told it was dangerous, due to the cruelty of its people and the many thieves who hid in the woods. We wished we could have avoided this route, but because France had several strongholds along the Rhine River, we could only take this route from Mainz,32 and we needed to complete the entire journey on land. We passed through Swabia with no incident, but we found only ramshackle lodgings whose beds we could not even fathom sleeping in. When we arrived in the evening—at times soaked to the bone, at other times fried by the sun or frozen by the cold, and sometimes experiencing the harshness of the four seasons in a single day—we were brought to a large hearth with glass doors and open on all sides. In the middle of this room, there was a long table with two benches on which we sat. Next to us were several German men with long beards who were smoking and drinking [158] heavily. No matter how many times we asked for something to eat, nothing happened and we had to wait for a specific time; when they no longer expected anyone else to come, they served us a supper that in ordinary circumstances would not have been appetizing. In that country, they never give out forks or knives, and it is assumed that each person has their own. They are also unfamiliar with the usage of napkins: all you can do is wipe your mouth with the tip of the tablecloth. After dinner, we saw a servant, or a stable boy, with 31. Meaning uncertain: in the French, “la peau d’une femme, qui etoit préparée comme un chamois.” 32. Sic; but in fact, they are journeying north en route to Mainz.
98 MADAME DU NOYER multiple bales of hay which were placed on the ground without blankets being provided; we were to understand that it was there that we were supposed to sleep. Those who had coats used them as blankets, and the others remained uncovered; but luckily, it was not cold by the hearth. On several occasions, when we wanted to go to sleep, the Germans there who were drinking and smoking began howling Bacchic songs in their mother tongue, creating an unbearable cacophony. We had no way to make them stop and they continued like this until we saw them fall under the table, passed out from drinking too much. However, in spite of all of this barbaric behavior [159], they still treated us properly: even when these men were inebriated, they never spoke to us in a crude manner. At daybreak, our carters called for us to get up, which we did quickly, and we found the host waiting for us. He was holding a slate marked with the amount of money we owed him, and we needed to pay right away (because if he was forced to recount, he would surely increase the amount we owed him); therefore, it was best not to argue. This was our experience in all of Germany. After passing through Swabia, we entered the region of Württemberg, neighboring the Neckar and the Danube Rivers. Tübingen is its capital, and that was where we saw the royal tombs.33 We arrived in this city at noon, and at that time a father and his daughter, accused of incest, had their heads cut off; the entire city was assembled to watch the spectacle.34 From Tübingen we traveled to Stuttgart, which is the Versailles of the Württemberg princes, and their place of residence. We witnessed all of its landmarks, and we stopped specifically to see the grotto of which so many historians have spoken, and which I will not describe because my description would pale in comparison to theirs. In the same area, there is an orangery as beautiful as those in [160] Italy; it is protected from the harsh winter by surrounding this little grove with walls and controlling the temperature by way of fire, so that these magnificent trees can be preserved. What made me the happiest was seeing the door of the prince’s home, on which was written in good French: after the storm comes the calm. I was told that he had these words engraved when, with the aid of France, he returned to his states which had previously been invaded.35 In this chateau, we were shown a large room whose walls, rather than being covered 33. The tombs of the dukes of Württemberg in the Gothic Stiftskirche of St. George. 34. Those found guilty of grave sexual offenses including sodomy, incest, or sexual relations between a male servant and his female employer were liable to the death penalty. On early modern criminal justice, capital punishment practice, and the ritual of execution, see Julius R. Ruff, Violence in Early Modern Europe, 1500–1800 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 97–116. 35. The Duchy of Württemberg was invaded during the Thirty Years’ War, in which Eberhard III, duke of Württemberg, fought as an ally of France. After the defeat of Nördlingen in 1634, the duchy was occupied by imperial troops and Eberhard had to go into exile. He was restored after long negotiations among many European nations, including France, that led to the Peace of Westphalia in 1648. See “Württemberg” in the 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica, vol. 28, at Wikisource: .
Memoirs (1703–1710) 99 with tapestries, were all decorated with deer heads under which were written the names of those who killed them. We greeted the princes in the park; since the one who was heir to the ducal title was still very young, his uncle—the Prince Regent—governed in his place.36 I found them both quite kind and polite. I was invited to remain at their court, where there were few French people, and where I would have been offered a good position; but as the traveling lifestyle is appealing to young people, I wanted to continue my journey.37 Before leaving that region, I wanted to visit its churches; they are of the Lutheran faith, and I was very curious to see their ceremonies. I was happy to find myself there on a day of [161] communion. I saw in the middle of the church an altar on which there was a crucifix; at each end of the altar, two little clerics held a cloth to collect what bread or wine may have fallen during communion, and the communicants walked around the altar to take bread from one side and wine from the other, which the pastors distributed to them. This care that they had not to lose a single morsel of the sacrament showed me that they believed it to be the body of Christ;38 but they only believed this in the act of communion itself, and defined it in a very different way from the Roman Catholics. They sang psalms or hymns in this church,39 and I noted that during the sermon, everyone bowed their heads each time the pastor named Jesus Christ, just as the Roman Catholics do. As for the images,40 it did not seem to me that they were paid much attention; they seemed to serve as a decoration rather than an object of devotion for the people. That is all that I observed in the region of Württemberg, which is certainly beautiful. After that, we entered the Palatinate and we arrived in Heidelberg, which is its capital, the day before Easter. We found my Uncle Noguier there, and we all left [162] together, after spending Easter Sunday in church and seeing all 36. In 1677, Frederick Charles (1652–1697), duke of Württemberg-Winnental, was given the regency over his nephew, Eberhard Ludwig (1676–1733), who was an infant at the time. At his majority, in 1693, Eberhard Ludwig became the 10th duke of Württemberg and reigned until his death. 37. Clearly, Mme Du Noyer, who is twenty-three at the time, is not traveling for her own pleasure since she is fleeing religious persecution. However, when she is no longer in danger, she is determined to make her journey as pleasurable as she can, exploring the landmarks of the cities she is passing through. 38. On the different positions of Calvinists and Lutherans regarding the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, see the Introduction, 22. The issue of the transubstantiation, first associated with the 1534 Affair of the Placards, remained a point of contention throughout the seventeenth century. 39. On hymn-singing as a vital part of Lutheran congregational worship and the impact it had on spreading his teachings, see Christopher Boyd Brown, Singing the Gospel: Lutheran Hymns and the Success of the Reformation (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2005). 40. On the place of visual images in Luther’s theology, see Sergiusz Michalski, Reformation and the Visual Arts: The Protestant Image Question in Western and Eastern Europe (London: Routledge, 1993), introduction and chapter one.
100 MADAME DU NOYER the city’s marvels. We were shown the gardens on the banks of the Neckar River; but the most remarkable thing of all was the large barrel called the Lightning Bolt of Heidelberg.41 The tombs of the Princes Palatine, which were in the large church, were also rather beautiful. However, a short time after, the French troops disrespected the ashes of these many heroes: I overheard the dragoon officers say that they had seen many of the remains exhumed by soldiers, who were hoping to make some money from the lead coffins containing the remains. We left Heidelberg the morning after Easter in a sort of stagecoach, which required us to travel day and night until we reached Frankfurt, where we arrived at the end of the fair,42 after passing through Spire, home to the Chancellor of the Empire. Frankfurt is an imperial city on the Main River in Franconia, in the diocese of Mainz. It is divided by the river, celebrated for its fairs and recognized as the site of the imperial election since the establishment of the Golden Bull,43 which is a famous constitution dating back to the time of [Holy Roman Emperor] Charles IV. Charlemagne expanded [the city] after defeating the Saxons. Its [163] most impressive structures are the Church of Saint Bartholomew, the city hall, and the Imperial Palace. The houses there are built with wood. When we reached Frankfurt, my uncle went to the home of Monsieur Jacob Couvreur, where he was supposed to find the letters from my Uncle Petit. He did indeed find some there, and as my Uncle Petit was writing to me that he was anxiously awaiting my arrival, he told my Uncle Noguier to encourage me to go from Frankfurt to Saxony. Therefore, in order to make him happy, my Uncle Noguier spoke to me as a man who was convinced that we would separate; and since there were no more merchants from Leipzig in Frankfurt, he asked a French pastor to help me find some good company with whom to travel to that country, and decided to leave me in Frankfurt with this recommendation. But after thinking 41. The cask mentioned here is the second of the four large barrels built in Heidelberg between 1591 and 1751 to store the wine that wine growers delivered to the Heidelberg castle in place of paying taxes. Today it is named after the elector Karl Ludwig who ordered the Heidelberg wine master, Johannes Meyer, to build it in 1664 as a replacement of the first cask destroyed by fire in 1597 during the Thirty Years’ War. The Karl Ludwig cask could hold 195,000 liters and it survived the destruction of the castle during the War of the Palatinate Succession in 1689 and 1693. See “Heidelberg Castle: The Legendary Four Great Wine Casks” . The other event evoked here is the destruction of the upper part of the castle by a lightning bolt in 1537. 42. As early as the thirteenth century, the city of Frankfurt gained renown for its trade fairs offering customers not only luxury goods like silk and jewels but also manuscripts and books. 43. The Golden Bull was promulgated in 1356 by Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV to establish the Constitution of the Roman Empire, recognize the rights and duties of the princes as electors of the Empire, and eliminate papal interference in Germany’s political affairs. See James B. Bryce, The Holy Roman Empire, new rev. ed. (New York: Schocken Books, 1966), 249–55.
Memoirs (1703–1710) 101 about it, I found no reason to stay in a country where I knew no one, only to go to another where I did not know if I would find a position; because, as I have already noted, the Countess of Dhona44 was unable to receive responses from [the cities I had passed through] when I left Geneva. For this reason, I believed I would be better off continuing my journey until I reached The Hague, all the more since the worst of the journey had passed and all that remained was to travel [164] by water. I thought that my uncle would have found me some position, through the friends he said he had everywhere; in any case, I thought I could write from The Hague to the Countess of Dhona, to find out what response she had received from Saxony. I shared my decision with my Uncle Noguier, who was not pleased with it, and who told me that he had planned on leaving me in Frankfurt. As he was not paying for the cost of my travel, I did not know what to think of his desire to get rid of me, and I found it cruel that he wanted to abandon me all alone in a foreign country where I did not understand the language, and where I could become sick. Finally, I told Monsieur Noguier that because it was a safe time to leave, I wanted to go to The Hague, since my Uncle Petit wished for me to do so, and I could not see any reason why he would oppose my decision. I even had a heated discussion with him on the subject; his wife wanted him to tell me the truth, but the fear of upsetting Monsieur Petit stopped him, and he preferred to put up with my bad mood. Indeed, as I was unaware of his principles, I was outraged by his behavior, and I could not stop myself from making this known to him. All that he would say in order to compel me to stay, convinced me to continue my journey; therefore, he was forced to consent to [165] that which he could not stop. Our entire group pooled its resources to rent a boat and embarked on the Main River, which led us to the Rhine. From Frankfurt, we traveled to Mainz; we passed in front of an old shack called the Tour des Rats;45 the story goes that a bishop from Mainz,46 hunted by these rodents as a divine punishment, had had this tower built on the Rhine, thinking that the rats could not get inside, because it formed a sort of small island; but as soon as he had retired within, a huge number of rats swam after him and went to devour him in this shelter. Whatever the case 44. Possibly Espérance Du Puy-Montbrun (1638–1690), daughter of Jean Du Puy-Montbrun, lord of Ferrassières and Antoinette Poinsart, an illustrious Protestant family from the Dauphiné; spouse of the German nobleman Friedrich Burggraf of Dohna (1621–1688), who served as governor of the Principality of Orange from 1629 onwards and purchased the barony of Coppet in the region of Vaud (Switzerland) in 1657. He had chosen Switzerland as his adopted country. See Haag, La France protestante, 4:465, and the online profile of Frederick of Dohna at . 45. The name Mäuseturm (Mouse Tower) is thought to be a corruption of Mäusheturm meaning toll tower, the tolls collected by Bishop Hatto from his subjects and passing ships. On the legend of Bishop Hatto and the Mäuseturm outside of the town of Bingen-on-Rhine, see Spence Lewis, Hero Tales and Legends of the Rhine (London: G. C. Harrap, 1915), 89 and 206–209. 46. Hatto II, archbishop of Mainz.
102 MADAME DU NOYER may be, what is left of this tower is still called Mouse Tower, and the waters that run by it are very dangerous; we almost died there, and I remember that in that great danger, I burst into song: “Alas, Lord, I pray that You save me, because the water has seized me to the depths of my soul.”47 Our pastors disapproved of my calmness in singing during such a perilous situation; but afterwards, I explained to them that because psalms are prayers, the one I sang was appropriate. After eating our provision of ham in Mainz, we continued our navigation. On the Rhine, there are a number of hanging bridges on which everything passes—people, vehicles, and so forth—after which the bridge [166] frees itself of its charges on the other side of the water, and takes another, and this process repeats itself all day long. These bridges are extremely large, painted, and surrounded by railings, and you can see them near all these good cities. When we reached Bonn, our boatman led us to shore at dinner time, because he had business in that city, where the Cologne Elector normally resides. We entered an inn, and while dinner was being prepared, our pastors were curious to walk in town, where they were arrested and taken to the guardhouse, because they were recognized as Frenchmen; but they were immediately released when it became clear that they were not spies. As soon as they returned, we sat down at the table to eat, and as it had been a long time since I had last eaten anything hot, I sat down too, although I was careful not to spend too much so that my two hundred francs would last me until arriving in The Hague. After dinner, I paid thirty sous, which did not make me happy. We spent one day in Cologne, where I saw churches and all that provoked curiosity among travelers. It is in this city where the unfortunate Marie de Médicis, widow, mother, and mother-in-law of kings, lived out her miserable days in exile.48 We also passed [167] by the beautiful home of the Elector of Treves [i.e., Trier]; it is situated on the banks of the Rhine and catches the eyes of many passersby. We finally arrived in Westphalia and disembarked in Wesel, a city belonging to the Elector of Brandenburg, [Frederick III of Hohenzollern], current king of Prussia [as Frederick I]. We spent the night there, and the next morning we traveled to Fort de Skint, the stronghold that, despite seeming impregnable, the French took over with so much ease during the wars of 1672.49 From Fort de Skint we traveled 47. The reference is to Psalm 18:16: “He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters.” (NIV) 48. Marie de Médicis (1573–1642), queen consort of Henri IV and regent between 1610 and 1614, exiled by her own son, Louis XIII, to Compiègne on February 1631 after her failed attempt to oust Cardinal Richelieu on the Day of Dupes (November 11–12, 1630); she fled to Brussels (the Spanish Netherlands) on July 1631, then to the imperial city of Cologne where she died on July 3, 1642. See Toby Osborne, “A Queen Mother in Exile: Marie de Médicis in the Spanish Netherlands and England, 1631–1641,” in Monarchy and Exile: The Politics of Legitimacy from Marie de Médicis to Wilhelm II, ed. Philip Mansel and Torsten Riotte (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 17–43. 49. The year 1672, called by the Dutch “the Disaster Year,” marks the beginning of the Franco-Dutch War or Dutch War (1672–1678), Louis XIV’s first war of conquest whose aim was to take possession
Memoirs (1703–1710) 103 to Nijmegen, the capital of the Gelderland province, where peace was achieved in 1678. As this was the first city of the seven provinces that I was seeing, I found it to be enchanting; the trees lining the streets, the cleanliness, the symmetry of the houses, everything was charming and I did not think I could ever find a place more beautiful. There we saw a number of French officers, who were squandering the pensions provided by the state while waiting for the war to give them the opportunity to show their worth and further their good fortune. Among them there was a man named Monsieur de Belcastel,50 who had managed to do so. He gave us a package from my Uncle Petit, who had learned from my Uncle Noguier that I was coming to The Hague; knowing well how to hide his feelings, Monsieur Petit wrote that [168] he was anxiously awaiting my arrival, and also advised my Uncle Noguier to go from Nijmegen to Groningen, where he had found an opportunity for him. In order to stop him from coming to The Hague, Monsieur Petit told him that his church might lose patience and that he needed to get there as soon as possible, that they could see each other another time, but that they must not think about that for the moment. He told my uncle Noguier that he would need to take carts to Utrecht and put me on a boat in Rotterdam, from where I would travel easily to The Hague. He even urged Monsieur de Belcastel to be responsible for my boarding. Thus, my Uncle Noguier understood that his dear brother-inlaw did not have much desire to see his close relations; but because he very much wanted to come to The Hague, he pretended to have been unable to find any carts, and got on the boat with me. We departed from Nijmegen at eight o’clock in the morning and we arrived twenty-four hours later in Rotterdam, where the Synod51 was assembled. First, my Uncle Noguier fetched Monsieur Claude who, unaware of my Uncle Petit’s intentions and actually believing he was making him happy, told my Uncle and Aunt Noguier that, being only eight miles or so outside of The Hague, it would be of the Spanish Netherlands. On April of 1672, the French army invaded the Dutch Republic from the east and temporarily occupied the province of Guelders. The war ended with the Treaties of Nijmegen (August 1678–December 1679), by which France acquired the Franche-Comté and several fortified places in Flanders and Hainaut but was forced to return Maastricht and the Principality of Orange to the Dutch. See James S. Pritchard, “The Franco-Dutch War, 1672–1678,” in his In Search of Empire: The French in the Americas, 1670–1730 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 267–300. 50. Pierre de Belcastel (d. 1710), a valiant soldier and a French Huguenot officer who escaped from France in 1685 and entered the service of English King William III, fighting in Ireland in 1690. See Augustus J. Vernendaal, Jr., “Belcastel, Pierre de,” in The Treaties of War of the Spanish Succession: An Historical and Critical Dictionary, ed. Linda Frey and Marsha Frey (Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1995), 39–40. 51. The Walloon Synod of Rotterdam took place on April 26, 1686. See Tobias Sarx, “Reformed Protestantism in France,” in A Companion to Reformed Orthodoxy, ed. Herman J. Selderhuis (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 248–51.
104 MADAME DU NOYER silly not to come. My Uncle Noguier felt that this stance allowed him to follow the inclination that drove him to The Hague. My Uncle Petit saw us all arrive, despite the precautions he had taken to avoid this. He did not seem the least bit unhappy; on the contrary, he told me that I had done well not to stay in Frankfurt and that I would have been wrong to make decisions without his input; that he saw me as a daughter, and that I could stay in his home. After having hosted my Aunt and Uncle Noguier for two or three days, he discovered a way, under false pretenses, to get them to clear out. Poor Monsieur Noguier, who was dying to preach in The Hague, left without having the opportunity to do so. If I had been charmed by the city of Nijmegen, I was even more so by Rotterdam and Delft, and especially by The Hague, which is an enchanting place.
Glossary of Places Alençon: small town located in Normandy approximately one hundred miles west of Paris. Aleu (perhaps Alloue): commune located in the northeast of the Poitou-Charentes region. Amsterdam: city which became very prosperous after the fall of Antwerp in 1585 and a safe haven for all those fleeing religious persecution. Argentan: small town near the Orne River (northwestern France) thirty-four miles from Alençon. Arsisse (Arcisses): commune of Brunelles in the department of Eure-et-Loir. Aulnay: small town situated in the Poitou-Charentes region approximately fortyone miles from La Rochelle. Avenches: small municipality in the Swiss canton of Vaud. Bagnols: small town about one hundred and seventy-five miles north of Uzès, on the road to Geneva. Balk: small town in the province of Friesland in the northern Netherlands. Bern: city in the canton of Bern (Switzerland) at sixty-four miles from Lausanne. It became an ayslum for Huguenots after the Revocation. Bonn: major city in western Germany straddling the Rhine River. Brie: area of northern France that occupies a large part of the modern department of Seine-et-Marne. Bruges: largest city of west Flanders (modern Belgium). Caen: a largely Protestant city on the Orne River in the Normandy region of northwestern France. Ces (Sai): commune in the Normandy region of northwestern France. Champdeniers: commune in the Poitou-Charentes region of southwestern France. Charron: small town about thirty miles southeast of La Rochelle. Chartres: small town in north-central France southwest of Paris, besieged by Huguenots in February-March 1568. Chateaudun: commune in northern France about thirty-one miles south southwest of Chartres. 105
106 Glossary of Places Cherveux: commune in western France about forty-seven miles southwest of Poitiers. Clairais (Les Clairets): where an abbey of nuns is located; commune of Mâle in north-central France in the diocese of Chartres. Cologne: major German city on the Rhine River twenty-one miles northwest of Bonn. Conworden (Coevorden): city in the province of Drenthe (Netherlands), captured in 1592 from the Spanish by the army of Maurice, prince of Orange. Corbeil: small town at the confluence of the Seine and the Essonne Rivers. Croix-Rousse (Croix Rousse): a neighborhood of Lyon Croix-Verte (Croix Verte): a neighborhood of Saumur. Danube (River): originates not far from Tübingen, Germany, and flows south and east to the Black Sea. Dauphiné: province in southeastern France, formerly a center of Protestantism. Delft: canal-ringed city in the western Netherlands between Rotterdam and The Hague; residence from 1572 on of William the Silent who became then the leader of the national Dutch resistance against Spanish occupation. Dieppe: port on the Normandy coast of northern France. Escluse (L’Écluse): town located at the border of Belgium in the province of Zeeland (Netherlands). It was besieged many times during the Eighty Years’ War. Étampes: commune approximately twenty-eight miles southwest of Paris. Étran: a suburb of Dieppe in the Normandy region of northwestern France. Falaise: commune in the Normandy region of northwestern France twenty miles southeast of Caen. Falmouth: port on the Fal River on the south coast of Cornwall (England). Fort (de) La Prée: oldest fort on the island of Ré (1625). Frankfurt (Frankfurt on the Main): major German city situated along the Main River in western Germany. Frise (Friesland): province in the northern Netherlands. Geneva: major city in Switzerland, center of Calvinism and the Reformed Refuge. Gheldres (Gueldre): small German town in the province of Dusseldorf.
Glossary of Places 107 Groninghe (Groningen): city in the northern Netherlands, conquered from the Spanish by Maurice of Nassau in 1594. Heidelberg: major city on the Neckar River in southwestern Germany, formerly capital of the Palatinate. Île de Ré: island off the west coast of the Poitou-Charentes region, near La Rochelle; site of the citadel of Ré. Ivry: commune about three miles southwest of Paris. La Laigne: small locality in the Poitou-Charentes region approximately nineteen miles from La Rochelle. La Rochelle: Atlantic port city about one hundred and fourteen miles north of Bordeaux. At the time of the Reformation, it became the stronghold of Huguenot resistance and an asylum for French Protestants. In the seventeenth century, it continued to be a focal point of Huguenot activity. Lausanne: city located on the shores of Lake Geneva in the canton of Vaud (Switzerland) approximately thirty-seven miles from Geneva. It became a place of refuge for Huguenots after the Revocation. Leipzig: major city located in the state of Saxony in eastern Germany. Leuvarde (Leeuwarden): capital city of the province of Friesland in the northern Netherlands. Linghen (Lingen): town in Lower Saxony in northwestern Germany. Lyon: second city of sixteenth-century France in terms of demography, economy, and banking, located at the confluence of the Rhône and Saône Rivers. In 1572, it was the scene of mass violence by Catholics against Protestants. Mainz: major city on the Rhine River in west-central Germany. Mauzé (Mauzé-sur-le-Mignon): commune in southwestern France approximately fourteen miles from Niort and twenty-two miles from La Rochelle. Melun: town approximately twenty-six miles southeast of Paris. Montpellier: largely Protestant city in southeastern France and stronghold of Protestant resistance. Morat (Murten): town located in the canton of Fribourg, Switzerland, west of the city of Bern and east of Lake Neuchâtel. Mortagne (Mortagne-au-Perche): commune in northwestern France thirty-six miles from Argentan.
108 Glossary of Places Moudon: small municipality in the Swiss canton of Vaud. Mougon: commune in the Poitou-Charentes region of southwestern France approximately eight-and-a-half miles from Niort. Neckar (River): flows from Tübingen, Germany, through Stuttgart and Heidelberg to the Rhine. Nijmegen: city in the province of Gelderland (Netherlands), close to the German border. It was captured from the Spanish in 1591. Nîmes: small town in southeastern France, which was the scene of the Protestant massacre of Catholics known as Michelade, September 29, 1567. Niort: small town located in the Poitou-Charentes region approximately forty miles from La Rochelle. Normandy: region of northern France bordering the English Channel. Olbreuse: small locality in the Poitou-Charentes region approximately nineteen miles from La Rochelle Olderzed (Oldenzaal): city in the eastern province of Overijssel (Netherlands), near the German border. Palatinate: region in southwestern Germany, a bastion for the Protestant (Calvinist) cause. Parthenay: a fortified town in the Poitou-Charentes region of southwestern France approximately twenty-five miles north of Niort and thirty-one miles west of Poitiers. Passage des Degrés-de-Poules: in Geneva, a covered passage made of steep steps leading directly from Bourg-de-Four to Saint-Pierre Cathedral, built in 1554. Payerne: small municipality in the Swiss canton of Vaud. Perche region: area of northwestern France about two hours from Paris. Poitiers: largely Protestant city in the Poitou-Charentes region west-central France about two hundred and fifteen miles southwest of Paris. Ponsas: small locality about two-and-a-half miles from Saint-Vallier in the Dauphiné where Pilate’s Château is located. Pont Saint-Esprit: small town in southeastern France approximately forty-six miles from Nîmes. Provins: commune in north-central France about fifty seven miles southeast of Paris.
Glossary of Places 109 Rotterdam: city on the banks of the New Meuse River in the province of South Holland. Roussillon: a village in the Luberon area (Provence) about one hundred and thirty-two miles from Saint-Rambert. Saint-Christofle-sur-roc (Saint Christophe-sur-roc): commune in the PoitouCharentes region of western France. Saint-Maixent: small town on the Sèvre River in the Poitou-Charentes region of western France, which had a strong concentration of Huguenots. Saint Port: probably Seine-Port, near both Melun and Corbet, whose inhabitants are known as Saint-Portais. Saintonge: province located on the west central Atlantic coast where Calvinism was at its strongest. Saint-Rambert d’Albon: small locality in southeastern France about thirty-seven miles south of Lyon. Saint-Vallier: small locality on the Rhône River about forty five miles south of Lyon. Saumur: small town at the confluence of the Thouet and Loire Rivers in western France, which was a Huguenot stronghold. After the Revocation, its population was nearly halved as Protestants left the city in large numbers. Savoie (Savoy): region encompassing the western Alps between Lake Geneva to the north and the Dauphiné to the south. Schaffhausen: a small Swiss city about twenty-three miles north of Zurich. Sedan: small town in the Champagne-Ardennes region of northeastern France six miles from the Belgian border. In the sixteenth century, it became an official asylum for Protestant émigrés. Seissel: small French town on the Rhône River about fifteen miles southwest of Geneva. Senlis: commune in northern France about thirty-two miles northeast of Paris, whose cathedral was the seat of the bishopric of Senlis. Sens: commune in north-central France about seventy-five miles from Paris. Spire (Speyer): town on the Rhine River in the Rhineland-Palatinate state of northwestern Germany. Stuttgart: large city in southwestern Germany, in this period the capital of Württemberg, residence of the Court, and seat of the Chambers.
110 Glossary of Places Swabia: historic region of southwestern Germany including a substantial portion of the present-day state of Baden-Württemberg. The Hague: city on the North Sea of the western Netherlands, in this period the residence of Prince Maurice of Orange. Trier (Treves, Triers): city on the banks of the Moselle River in western Germany, near the Luxembourg border. Tübingen: city located along the Neckar River in southwestern Germany. Its landmarks include the ducal castle of Hohentübingen and the tombs of the dukes of Württenberg in the Gothic Stiftskirche of St. George. Utrecht: large city on the Rhine River in the northern Netherlands. Uzès: small town in southeastern France approximately twelve miles from Nîmes and thirty-seven miles from Bagnols-sur-Cèze. Valence: commune in southeastern France, about fifty-seven miles south of Lyon. Vallegrand: commune approximately three-and-a-half miles southwest of Paris. Vassy: a small town in the Champagne region. It is often associated with the Massacre of Huguenot whorshipers by Francis, duke of Guise, on March 1, 1562. This event known as the Massacre of Vassy marked the beginning of the French Wars of Religion. Vendôme: a town in central France, one of the largest on the Loire River, about a hundred and seven miles southwest of Paris. Vienne: small town of southeastern France, located on the Rhône River about twenty-two miles south of Lyon. Villeneuve-les-Avignon: a suburb of Avignon in southeastern France. Voorburg: a suburb of The Hague (Netherlands) where Huguenots sought asylum. Wesel: fortress city on the Rhine River in northwestern Germany, about thirty miles from the Dutch border. It changed hands several times between the Spanish and the Dutch during the Eighty Years’ War (1568–1648). Württemberg: predominantly Lutheran duchy situated in the southwestern part of Germany, and occupying large sections of the region of Swabia. Zurich: city located in north-central Switzerland, about eight-six miles from Bern. It is from there that the Reformation, under the influence of Zwingli (1484–1531), spread to other parts of the Swiss Confederacy.
Table of Currencies and Values Écu: gold coin worth at this time approximately sixty sols (sous) or three livres. Its value fluctuated considerably during the French Wars of Religion. See Frank C. Spooner, The International Economy and Monetary Movements in France, 1493–1725 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1972), chapter 3. Lieue: of variable length, approximately the distance walked in an hour, or roughly 2.5 miles. Livre: currency, a unit both of account and of coinage. At this time, one livre equaled twenty sols or sous. Livre: mass unit. The livre poids de marc or livre de Paris equaled 489.5 grams. Louis d’or (golden Louis): gold coin of twenty-two carats that made its appearance in 1640 and was named after the image of King Louis XIII on the coin’s obverse. Initially the golden Louis was worth approximately ten livres at twenty sols tournois, but its value fluctuated according to monetary and fiscal policy. Pas (pace): informal unit of length equivalent to a full stride. Pistole: a Spanish gold coin equivalent to two écus; term also often used interchangeably with Louis d’or. Sol: one sol equaled twelve deniers, and one-twentieth of a livre. Teston: older silver coin, later replaced by the franc. It bore on the obverse a bust of the reigning king.
111
John Calvin flees Paris
The Affair of the Placards
Calvin becomes pastor in Geneva, maintaining strong ties with French Reform movement until his death in 1564
1533
1534
1536
First Protestant Church in Paris is organized in a home
First Protestant synod held in Paris
Protestant Conspiracy of Amboise to kidnap king of France fails
1555
1559
1560
113
Calvinism wins thousands of converts in France
1550
May 11
Jean Vallière burned at the stake
1523
1549
The Sorbonne condemns Luther’s works
1521
February 1
Martin Luther’s Ninety-five Theses
1517
1548
General Events
Date
Chronology
Birth of Philippe Duplessis
Birth of Charlotte Arbaleste Mornay
Huguenot Women’s Lives
1568
1567
March 23
September 30
January 24
1564
Edict of Longjumeau restores right granted to Huguenots in Edict of Amboise and ends Second War of Religion (1567–1568)
St. Michael’s Day Massacre of leading Catholic citizens by Nîmes Huguenots (the so-called Michelade)
Start of Charles IX’s grand tour of France
Edict of Amboise grants Huguenots legal tolerance and limited right to preach in limited areas. Ends First War of Religion (1562–1563)
Louis de Bourbon, prince de Condé calls upon Protestants to take up arms
April 12
March 19
Massacre at Vassy by forces of duke of Guise begins the French Wars of Religion
March 1
1563
Edict of Saint-Germain providing limited toleration to Protestants
January 17
1562
Council of Trent (1545–1563) closes, having reaffirmed essential Catholic dogma and affirmed papal authority
Anti-Protestant edict begins to drive refugees from France
1561
1563
General Events
Date
Charlotte marries Jean de Pas, seigneur de Feuqu(i)ères
Huguenot Women’s Lives
Edict of Boulogne grants freedom of worship to three towns only: La Rochelle, Montauban, and Nîmes
July 6
July 11
1573
1574
Siege of La Rochelle lifted
August 24–25
1572
Peace of La Rochelle ends Fourth War of Religion (1572–1574)
St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre kills as many as 100,000 Huguenots
Protestants obtain four strongholds, among them La Rochelle
Edict of St. Germain marks a return to civil toleration and ends Third War of Religion (1568–1570)
Coligny injured during battle
Catholic victory at Moncontour
Catholic victory at Jarnac
August 8
October 3
May 23
March 13
December 29
French Calvinist Protestants are named Huguenots
General Events
1570
1569
Date
Philippe Duplessis-Mornay is introduced to Charlotte in Sedan
Death of Jean de Pas at La Charité-sur-Loire
Birth of Suzanne de Pas in Sedan
Huguenot Women’s Lives
1580
1579
1578
1577
January 3
1576
Edict of Poitiers ending Sixth War of Religion (March– September 1577)
October
November 26
July 20
Treaty of Nérac and Peace of Fleix ending Seventh War of Religion (a few months)
Peace of Bergerac
September 14
June 1
Militant Catholic League forms (also called “the Holy League”)
Peace of Monsieur, ratified by Edict of Beaulieu, ends Fifth War of Religion (1575–1576)
Henri III becomes king of France
Death of King Charles IX
General Events
May
December 17
May 6
February 13
May 30
1575
Date
Birth of Philippe Duplessis-Mornay in Antwerp
The Duplessis-Mornays travel to the Low Countries
Birth of Elisabeth Duplessis-Mornay in England
Philippe Duplessis-Mornay’s embassy to the court of Elizabeth I (until July 1578)
Birth of Marthe Duplessis-Mornay
Philippe marries Charlotte
Philippe proposes to Charlotte
Huguenot Women’s Lives
1594
1593
February 27
July 25
August 2
Henri IV crowned at Chartres
Paris yields and opens its doors to Henri IV
Henri IV converts to Catholicism to hold the throne
Henri IV is nominal king of France
Henri III assassinated by Jacques Clément
Henry III allies with the Huguenots and successfully lays siege to Paris, controlled by the Holy League
The beginning of the War of the Three Henrys
1589
Treaty of Nemours: Huguenots have six months to choose between abjuration and exile; strongholds must be surrendered
Henri III forced to surrender to the Guises and the Catholic League. Henri de Guise declares it illegal for a non-Catholic to be ruler of France
July 7
Henri de Bourbon, king of Navarre, becomes heir presumptive to the French throne
Death of François, duke of Anjou and Alençon, youngest son of King Henri II
Huguenot strongholds restored
General Events
1588
1585
1584
1583
Date Birth of Anne Duplessis-Mornay
Huguenot Women’s Lives
May 15
May 14
1606
1610
The Rohan Wars; intermittent Huguenot rebellions extend to 1628
1621
Richelieu becomes Louis XIII’s Chief Minister
Huguenots defeated at La Rochelle and the island of Ré
Siege of La Rochelle ends with complete Huguenot defeat
1624
1625
1627– 1628
1623
Huguenots defeated in Bearn
1620
Huguenots defeated at La Rochelle, Montauban, and Nègrepelisse
Louis XIII is king of France (r. 1610–1643)
1614
Henri IV is assassinated by François Ravaillac; widow Marie de Médicis is regent 1610–1614
Death of Philippe Duplessis, Charlotte’s husband
Death of Charlotte Duplessis-Mornay
October 23
1605
November 11
Death of Philippe Duplessis-Mornay, Charlotte’s son
April 13
1598
Henri IV issues the Edict of Nantes, granting Huguenots substantial rights
Declaration of War against Spain, allied with Catholic League
September 14
1595
Huguenot Women’s Lives
General Events
Date
February 20
December 4
May 14
1640
1642
1643
Death of Louis XIII; Louis XIV becomes king of France
Death of Richelieu
Birth of Louis-Dieudonné, the future King Louis XIV
Death of Claude de la Forest, Anne de Chaufepié’s mother
December 16
June 12
1662
1663
Birth of Anne Marguerite Petit
Jacques Petit marries Catherine Cotton
Birth of Anne de Chaufepié
Second de Chaufepié marries Claude de la Forest
Huguenot Women’s Lives
1661
Various edicts restricting Huguenots’ rights
September 5
1638
1661– 1680
June 2
1637
Day of Dupes. Marie de Médicis imprisoned
Beginning of Protestant persecution
November 11–12
1630
Huguenots are guaranteed toleration for their religious practices, but they lose their political rights and must relinquish cities and fortresses
Peace of Alais, also known as The Edict of Grace, negotiated by Cardinal Richelieu and Huguenot leaders
General Events
1660
June 28
1629
Date
1688
1686
May 8
December 22
April 26
April 24
Walloon synod of Rotterdam
Protestant persecution intensifies
Louis XIV revokes the Edict of Nantes, leaving the Huguenots defenseless; 400,000 flee
October 18
1685
Dragonnades in Poitou, Dauphiné, and Languedoc
1684
Dragonnades in Bearn, Languedoc, Provence, Dauphiné, Lyonnais, Poitou
First wave of dragonnades (in Poitou)
1681
1685
Treaties of Nijmegen
1678– 1679
June 13
The Franco-Dutch War
General Events
1672– 1678
1664
Date
Anne Marguerite Petit marries Guillaume Du Noyer
Anne Marguerite Petit returns to France
Anne de Chaufepié is arrested in La Rochelle
Anne Marguerite Petit flees to Geneva, and from there to The Hague
Death of Second de Chaufepié, father of Anne
Anne Marguerite Petit in Nîmes at the time of the dragonnades
Death of Catherine Cotton; Anne Marguerite Petit is adopted by her aunt, Madame Saporta
Huguenot Women’s Lives
September 1
May
1715
Death of Louis XIV
1719
Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer dies in Voorburg (Netherlands)
Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer flees to Holland with Poupette and Pimpette
Birth of Catherine-Olympe Du Noyer (nicknamed Pimpette)
1701
March 2
1692
Birth of Marie Du Noyer
Birth of Anne Marguerite Du Noyer (nicknamed Poupette)
Anne de Chaufepié arrives in Rotterdam; date of death unknown
Huguenot Women’s Lives
Birth of Guillaume Du Noyer
June 27
1690
General Events
1694
March 17
June 3
1689
Date
Testimonial Literature by Huguenot Women Authors are listed alphabetically; works under each author’s name are given in chronological order.
On the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre Burlamacchi, René. Descritione della vita e morte del signor Michele Burlamacchi gentilhuomo lucchese, missa in luce dalla signora Renea Burlamacchi, sua figlia, nel mese di gennaro del 1623 in Geneva. In Vincenzo Burlamacchi, Libro di ricordi degnissimi delle nostre famiglie, Ms. Suppl. 438, fols. 50r–54v. Geneva: Bibliothèque Publique et Universitaire. ———. Descritione della vita e morte del signor Michele Burlamacchi gentilhuomo lucchese, missa in luce dalla signora Renea Burlamacchi, sua figlia, nel mese di gennaro del 1623 in Geneva. In Vincenzo Burlamacchi, Libro di ricordi degnissimi delle nostre famiglie, edited by Simonetta Adorni-Braccesi, 167–78. Rome: Istituto storico italiano per l’età moderna e contemporanea, 1993. ———. Descritione della vita e morte del signor Michele Burlamacchi. In Les femmes et l’histoire familiale, XVIe–XVIIe siècle, edited by Susan Broomhall and Colette H. Winn, 77–91. Paris: Honoré Champion, 2008. ———. Memoirs Concerning Her Father’s Family. In Sin and Salvation in Early Modern France: Three Women’s Stories, edited by Colette H. Winn, translated by Nicholas Van Handel and Colette H. Winn, 43–54. Toronto: Iter Press; Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2017. Duplessis-Mornay, Charlotte. Mémoires de Madame de Mornay, suivies de lettres inédites. Edited by Madame Henriette de Witt. 2 vols. Paris: Veuve de J. Renouard (Société de l’histoire de France), 1868–1869. ———. Les mémoires de Madame de Mornay. Edited by Nadine Kuperty-Tsur. Paris: Honoré Champion, 2010. Valois, Marguerite de. Les Mémoires de la royne Marguerite. Published by Mauléon de Granier. Paris: C. Chappelain, 1628 ———. Mémoires et lettres de Marguerite de Valois. Edited by François Guessard. New ed. Paris: Renouard, 1842. ———. Mémoires et autres écrits de Marguerite de Valois, la reine Margot. Edited by Yves Cazaux. Paris: Mercure de France, 1971. ———. Mémoires et autres écrits: 1574–1614. Edited by Éliane Viennot. Paris: Honoré Champion, 1999. ———. Marguerite de Valois. Mémoires et discours. Edited by Éliane Viennot. Saint-Étienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint-Étienne, 2004. 123
124 Testimonial Literature by Huguenot Women
On the dragonnades and the Huguenot exodus in the years surrounding the Revocation The information pertaining to the texts below comes with minor revisions from Bulletin historique et littéraire (Société de l’histoire du protestantisme français); Raoul Gout, Le miroir des dames chrétiennes, tome 2, Pages féminines de la Réforme française, XVIe–XVIIIe siècle (Paris: Éditions je sers. 1937); Pierre Jurieu, Lettres pastorales; and Lougee, “Huguenot Memoirs” 343–47.
Bardonnanche, Madame de. Madame de Bardonnanche, femme du conseiller au parlement de Grenoble et vicomtesse de Trièves en Dauphiné. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 11, no. 9–10 (1862): 390–91. Caussade, Marthe Marie de. “Lettre de deux filles à leur mère; Ce 8 octobre 1689.” “Sauvées! Lettres inédites de deux Montalbanaises et de leur oncle d’Aliés de la Tour, 1672–1689.” Bulletin historique et littéraire (Société de l’histoire du protestantisme français) 41, no. 1 (1892): 26–34. ———. “Lettre de deux filles à leur mère; Ce 8 octobre 1689.” In Gout, Le miroir, tome 2:208–10. Chaufepié, Anne de. Journal d’Anne de Chaufepié. In miscellaneous manuscript: Lettres de pasteurs, journal d’Anne de Chaufepié, état civil, sermons, papiers de Gobinaud, etc. Paris, Bibliothèque du protestantisme français: Ms. 4681– 2. Paris: Bibliothèque du Protestantisme français. ———. Journal manuscrit d’Anne de Chaufepié à l’époque des dragonnades et du refuge, 1685–1688. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 6 (1857): 57–68 and 256–68. Du Bois, Marie. Relation, 28 Novembre, 1687. In Jurieu, Lettres pastorales, Letter X, 236–40. ———. Relation. In Maurice Thirion, Étude sur l’histoire du protestantisme à Metz et dans le pays Messin, 357–61. Nancy: Imprimerie de F. Collin, 1884. Du Noyer, Anne Marguerite Petit. Mémoires de Madame Du Noyer écrits par ellemême. 5 vols. Cologne: Pierre Marteau, 1710–1711. ———. Mémoires de Madame Du Noyer. Amsterdam: Par la compagnie, 1760. ———. Mémoires. Edited by Henriette Goldwyn. Paris: Mercure de France, 2005. Faïsses, Jeanne. La fin heureuse de Jeanne Faïsses, détenue pour la religion et ensuite délivrée, réfugiée et morte en Suisse. Papiers Court, no. 43. Geneva: Bibliothèque de Genève. ———. Récit de la captivité de Jeanne Faïsses et de son arivée à Lausanne le 28 avril 1687. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 26 (1877): 461–72 ———. La fin heureuse de Jeanne Faïsses réfugiée en Suisse et morte à Chavornay, le 14 juin 1688. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 27 (1878): 155–70.
Testimonial Literature by Huguenot Women 125 Fourques, Isabeau de, épouse de Jean d’Arbaud, baron de Blauzac. “Lettre à Messieurs de Berne.” Zürich, Staatsarchiv des Kantons Zürich: E I 25.10. ———. Mémoire à messieurs de Berne sur sa fuite miraculeuse de France. Excerpts in Histoire des protestants de Provence, du comtat Venaissin et de la principauté d’Orange, edited by Eugène Arbaud, 1:483–87. Paris: Grassart, 1884. Gamond, Blanche. “De l’Hôpital de la Rapine de Valence; A. M. Murrat Pasteur Refugié à Lausanne.” In Jurieu, Lettres pastorales, Letter XV, 355–58. ———. Récit des persécutions que Blanche Gamond, de Saint-Paul-Trois-Châteaux, en Dauphiné, âgée d’environ vingt et un ans, a endurées pour la cause de l’Evangile. Papiers Court, no. 17/D, fols. 224–64. Geneva: Bibliothèque de Genève. ———. Une héroïne protestante: Récit des persécutions que Blanche Gamond, de Saint-Paul-Trois-Châteaux, en Dauphiné, âgée de 21 ans, a endurées pour la querelle de l’Evangile, ayant dans icelles surmonté toutes tentations par la grâce et providence de Dieu. Relation inédite, publiée et annotée par Théodore Claparède. Paris: Ch. Meyrueis, 1867. ———. Récit des persécutions que Blanche Gamond, de Saint-Paul-Trois-Châteaux, en Dauphiné, âgée d’environ vingt et un ans, a endurées pour la cause de l’Evangile. In Deux héroïnes de la foi: Blanche Gamond et Jeanne Terrasson: Récits du XVIIe siècle, ed. Théodore Claparède and Jean-François Édouard Goty. Paris: Sandoz et Fischbacher; Neuchâtel: J. Sandoz; Geneva: Desrogis, 1880. Giton, Judith. Relations de notre sortyee de France. Transactions of the Huguenot Society of South Carolina 59, no. 4 (1954): 24–27. La Rochefoucauld, Marie de. Ce 10 Ienvier 1690 nostre sortie de France. Champagné Papers, A 59. Stanford, CA: Standford University Library, Special Collections. ———. Ce 10 Ienvier 1690 nostre sortie de France. French Historical Studies 22, no. 1 (1999): 39–43 (French text); 43–46 (English translation); with a study by Carolyn C. Lougee at 1–39. Mazoyère, Marie. Lettre d’une nîmoise, à Mme de Dombres, à Genève ce 22 mai 1695. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 34 (1885): 472–74. Molinier, Marie. Mémoires pour mes enfants. T 8/5/10. London: Huguenot Library. ———. Mémoires pour mes enfants. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 62 (1913): 435–56 and 63 (1914): 277–79. Montalambert, Mademoiselle de. Lettre pastorale IX sur la mort de Mademoiselle de Montalambert, Le 1er Janvier 1688. In Jurieu, Lettres pastorales, Letter IX, 214–16. Oursel, Marie. “Lettre à Marie Camin, Le Havre, le 20 février 1686.” In Gout, Le miroir, 179–83. Robillard de Champagné, Susanne de. Récit abrégé de ma sortie de France, pour venir dans les païs étrangers chercher la liberté de ma conscience et l’exercice
126 Testimonial Literature by Huguenot Women de notre sainte religion. Ms. 3613. Darmstadt: Hessische Landes und Hochschulbibliothek. ———. Récit abrégé de ma sortie de France, pour venir dans les païs étrangers chercher la liberté de ma conscience et l’exercice de notre sainte religion. Ms. 55.682 and 55.683. Marbach am Neckar: Deutsches Literaturarchiv/ Schiller-Nationalmuseum. ———. Récit abrégé de ma sortie de France, pour venir dans les païs étrangers chercher la liberté de ma conscience et l’exercice de notre sainte religion. French Historical Studies 22, no. 1 (1999): 47–54 (French text); 54–61 (English translation); 61–64 (discussion of manuscripts); with a study by Carolyn C. Lougee at 1–39. Sers, Marie de. Relation, 28 Novembre, 1687. In Jurieu, Lettres, Letter XV, 358–60. Terrasson, Jeanne. Recueil des choses qui me sont arrivées en France, dans le temps des persécutions et des maux qu’on m’y a fait souffrir, à moi. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 28 (1879): 559–62, and 29 (1880): 27–38. ———. Recueil des choses qui me sont arrivées en France, dans le temps des persécutions et des maux qu’on m’y a fait souffrir, à moi. In Claparède and Goty, Deux héroïnes de la foi. Vérot, Diane de. Adjuration de la demoiselle Diane de Véot, en 1678, registres du curé de Bernis, de 1677 à 1682. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 8, nos. 8–9 (1859): 374–77. Vincent, Isabeau. Histoire d’Isabeau Vincent fille d’un paysan d’auprés de Saou à deux lieuës de Cret en Dauphiné. In Jurieu, Lettres, Letter III, 59–63.
Bibliography Works Translated in This Volume Charlotte Duplessis-Mornay Manuscripts Mémoires de dame Charlote Arbaleste du Plessis. Paris, Bibliothèque de l’Université de la Sorbonne: Manuscrit no. 360. Mémoires de Charlotte Arbaleste, dame du Plessis-Mornay. Chantilly (France), Bibliothèque du Musée de Condé au Château de Chantilly: Manuscrit no. 907. Mémoires de Charlotte Arbaleste. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France: Manuscrit 10629 and Supplément français 5602. Printed (in chronological order of publication) Memoires de messire Philippes de Mornay, seigneur du Plessis Marli, … contenans divers discours, instructions, lettres et dépesches par lui dressées ou escrites aux rois, roines …. Compiled by David de Liques and Valentin Conrart, edited by Jean Daillé. [La Forest, Belgium]: Iean Bureau, 1624–1625. Available at Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France: RES4-LA23-3(1) and on Gallica. fr. Mémoires et correspondance de Duplessis-Mornay, pour servir à l’histoire de la Réformation et des guerres civiles et religieuses en France. Edited by Pierre René Auguis and Armand-Désiré La Fontenelle de Vaudoré. 12 vols. Paris: Treuttel et Würtz, 1824–1825. Vol. 1 includes the Mémoires. Reprint of vol. 1: Les Mémoires de Madame de Mornay (Geneva: Slatkine, 1969). Mémoires de Madame de Mornay, suivies de lettres inédites. Edited by Henriette de Witt. 2 vols. Paris: Veuve de Jules Renouard (Société de l’histoire de France), 1868–1869. A Huguenot Family in the Sixteenth Century: The Memoirs of Philip de Mornay, Sieur du Plessis-Marly, Written by His Wife. Translated by Lucy Crump. Pp. 120–30 and 283–85. London: Routledge; New York: E. P. Dutton, 1927. Mémoires de Madame de Mornay. Excerpt translated by Patricia Francis Cholakian. In Writings by Pre-Revolutionary French Women: From Marie de France to Elizabeth Vigée-Le Brun, edited by Anne R. Larsen and Colette H. Winn, 225–36. New York: Garland, 2000. Les Mémoires de Madame de Mornay. Edited by Nadine Kuperty-Tsur. Paris: Honoré Champion, 2010. 127
128 Bibliography
Anne de Chaufepié Manuscript Journal d’Anne de Chaufepié. In miscellaneous manuscript: Lettres de pasteurs, journal d’Anne de Chaufepié, état civil, sermons, papiers de Gobinaud, etc. Paris, Bibliothèque du protestantisme français: Ms. 4681–2. Printed Journal manuscrit d’Anne de Chaufepié à l’époque des dragonnades et du refuge, 1685–1688. Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 6 (1857): 57–68 and 256–68.
Anne Marguerite Petit Du Noyer Lettres historiques et galantes (in chronological order of publication) Lettres historiques et galantes de deux dames de condition, dont l’une étoit à Paris, à l’autre en Provence, par Mme de C***. 7 vols. Cologne [La Haye]: Pierre Marteau, 1707–1713. Lettres historiques et galantes de deux dames de condition. 5 vols. Cologne: Pierre Marteau, 1733. Lettres historiques et galantes par Mme C***. New ed. 8 vols. in 9. London: Nourse et Vaillant, 1757. Lettres historiques et galantes par Mme C***. 5th ed. 8 vols. The Hague: Pierre Husson, 1761. Lettres historiques et galantes par Mme C***. New ed. 12 vols. Paris and Avignon: François Seguin, 1790. Mémoires (in chronological order of publication) Mémoires de Madame Du Noyer écrits par elle-même. 5 vols. Cologne: Pierre Marteau, 1710–1711. Mémoires de Madame Du Noyer. Amsterdam: Par la compagnie, 1760. Online at . Mémoires. Edited by Henriette Goldwyn. Paris: Mercure de France, 2005.
Other Primary Sources Anne de France. Lessons for My Daughter. Edited and translated by Sharon L. Jansen. Rochester, NY: D. S. Brewer, 2004. Benoist, Élie. Histoire de l’Édit de Nantes: Contenant les choses les plus remarquables qui se sont passées en France avant et après sa publication. 3 vols. in 5. Delft: Beman, 1693–1695.
Bibliography 129 Bossuet, Jacques Bénigne. Politique tirée des propres paroles de l’écriture sainte. Paris: Pierre Cot, 1709. Burlamacchi, Renée. Descrittione della vita et morte del signor Michele Burlamacchi/ Description de la vie et de la mort du Seigneur Michele Burlamacchi (1623). In Les femmes et l’histoire familiale, XVIe–XVIIe siècle, edited by Susan Broomhall and Colette H. Winn, 75–91 and 93–106. Paris: Honoré Champion, 2008. Chaufepié, Samuel de. Mémoires pour la famille des S[eigneu]rs de Chaufepié and Abrégé des principaux événemens de ma vie. In Jacques-Henri de Dompierre de Chaufepié and N. W., “Mémoires de la famille de Chaufepié,” Bulletin de la société de l’histoire du protestantisme français 52, no. 3 (1903): 231–40 and 240–54. ———. “La sortie de France du pasteur Samuel de Chaufepié.” In Jacques-Henri de Dompierre de Chaufepié and N. W. Bulletin de la commission de l’histoire des églises wallonnes 3 (1885): 75–79. Estienne, Charles. La guide des chemins de France. Paris: Charles Estienne, 1552. Fourques, Isabeau de, épouse de Jean d’Arbaud, baron de Blauzac. “Lettre à Messieurs de Berne.” Zürich, Staatsarchiv des Kantons Zürich: E I 25.10. Foxe, John. Fox’s Book of Martyrs: A History of the Lives, Sufferings, and Triumphant Deaths of the Early Christian and the Protestant Martyrs. Edited by William Byron Forbush. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1967. The French King’s Declaration, enjoining the execution of his edict in October 1685, for the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Given at Versailles the 13th of December 1689. Faithfully translated from the original printed at Paris, 1689. Haton, Claude. Mémoires de Claude Haton, contenant le récit des événements accomplis de 1553 à 1582, principalement dans la Champagne et la Brie. Edited by Félix Bourquelot. 2 vols. Paris: Librairie impériale, 1857. Jurieu, Pierre. Lettres pastorales adressées aux fideles de France qui gemissent sous la captivité de Babylon. Seconde année. Rotterdam: Abraham Acher, 1688. Jussie, Jeanne de. The Short Chronicle: A Poor Clare’s Account of the Reformation of Geneva. Edited and translated by Carrie F. Klaus. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006. Maintenon, Madame de. Correspondance générale de Madame de Maintenon. Edited by Théophile Sébastien La Vallée. 4 vols. Paris: Charpentier, 1865–1866. Migault, Jean. Journal de Jean Migault, ou malheurs d’une famille protestante du Poitou, 1682–1689. Edited by Yves Krumenacker. Paris: Éditions de Paris, 1995. Moulin, Pierre du. The Buckler of the Faith, or a Defence of the Confession of the Reformed Churches in France. rd ed. London: Printed by Iohn Beale for Nathaniel Newbery, 1631.
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Index Bost, Hubert, 1n1 Bourbon, Françoise de, 44n11 Bradshaw, George, 84n10 breast-feeding, 80, 80n57 Brereton, John C., 63n19 bribes, 61n13 Broomhall, Susan, 6n21, 28n95, 32n104, 105 Brown, Christopher Boyd, 99n39 Burggraf zu Dohna, Friedrich, 101n44 Byrne, Joseph P., 51n30
abjuration, 2–3, 8–12, 16–17, 21, 29, 31–33, 35, 51, 60, 62–68, 71–75, 82–84, 91 Affair of the Placards, 14, 99n38 Agnew, Rev. David C. A., 10n34 Allegret, D., 10n35 Anne de France, 44n9 Annebaut, Jean d’, baron de Retz, 44n13 Arbaleste de la Borde, Guy II, 3, 43n2 Arbaleste de la Borde, Marie, 43n3 Aristotile, Niccolò d’, detto Zoppino, 49n28 Aubigné, Agrippa d’, 7n24, 16, 20 Aubigné, Françoise, d’ (marquise de Maintenon), 60, 60n9, 10, 11 autobiography, and Protestantism, 18–23
Cabanel, Patrick, 9n29 Caine, Barbara, 28, 28n94 Calvin, Jean, 14, 14n50, 15, 15n53 Calvinism, 1n1, 3–4, 4n11, 12, 14–15, 15n53, 18–22, 99n38 Campbell, Julie D., 32n105 Carbonnier-Burkard, Marianne, 9n29 Carthusians, 27, 88, 88n15 Catholic Church, and its ministry of fear, 20, 62–76; and its ministry of seduction, 63–64, 66–67, 72, 75–76 Céard, Jean, 48n26 Chang, Leah, 32n105 Charbonneau, Frédéric, 13n49 Charles IV, 100, 100n43 Chaufepié, Anne de, 7–10, 19–20, 24–25, 28–29, 31, 39, 73–80 Chaufepié, Jacques-Henri de Dompierre de, 7n23, 8n28 Chaufepié, Jean de, 7, 7n24 Chaufepié, Samuel de, 7, 7n23–24, 8n26 Chaufepié, Second de, 7, 7n24, 60 Chergé, Ch. de, 60n8, 61n12 Chevalier de la Borde, Madeleine, 3 Chevalier de la Borde, Pierre, Bishop of Senlis, 45n15
Beasley, Faith E., 6n21 Beauchet-Filleau, H., 60n8, 61n12 Belcastel, Pierre de, 103, 103n50 Bély, Lucien, 48n26 Benedict, Philip, 25n85 Benedict of Nursia, Saint, 71n36 Benedict order, 71, 71n36, 72, 74n51, 96 Benoist, Élie, 1, 1n1 Beranger, Jeanne, 60n8 Bergin, Joseph, 11n40 Bernos, Marcel, 72n42 Berriot-Salvadore, Évelyne, 4n10, 80n57 Besme, 45n17 Blaisdell, Charmarie J., 15n53 Boisragon, Mademoiselle or Mesdemoiselles de, 36, 61, 63, 65–66 Bossuet, Jacques Bégnine, 16, 16n58, 35, 66n27 139
140 Index Cholakian, Patricia Francis, 7n21, 39, 39n123 Clermont-Tonnerre, Claude-Catherine de, dame de Dampierre, 44n13 Cochefilet, Jacques de, seigneur de Vaucelas, 43n3 Coligny, Gaspard II de, 4, 4n8, 9, 16, 45nn16–17, 46n18 confession of faith, and conversion of Protestant ministers, 75, 75n53 confessional differences, 3–4, 29–30, 44, 47–49 confiscation of family possessions, 17, 19 Conti, Albert de, duc de Retz, maréchal de France, 44n13 convent, as prison, 70–72, 74 conversion (religious), and Catholic religious orders, 70–77; and gender, 2–3, 10–12, 17, 21, 29, 31–32, 65, 69–70, 72–73, 77; narratives, 75, 75n53; and persuasion, 9–10, 16–17, 31–32, 35, 60–62, 66–68, 71–72, 75–76; and punishment, 20, 27, 62–70, 73–77 Cordelières, 70, 70n35 Corson, Richard, 92n20, 96n30 Cottingham, John, 92n19 Cotton, Catherine, 10 Cotton, Gaspard, 11, 83, 83n8, 92 Cotton Saporta, Marguerite, 81, 81n2, 82–86, 90–91 Cross, F. L., 71n2 crosses (white), 44n14 Cumming, Valerie, 87n14 Cunnington, C. W., 87n14 Cunnington, P. E., 87n14 Curthoys, Ann, 28n98 Daillé, Jean, 6n17 Daireaux, Luc, 75n53 Daughters Hospitallers, 70, 70n34
Daughters of the Calvary, 74, 74n51 Daughters of Notre-Dame, 71, 71n38 Daughters of Providence, 71, 71n39 de la Forest, Claude, 80 de la Forest, Mesdemoiselles, 59, 61 de la Forest, Samuel, 7 DeMolen, Richard L., 70n32 Desgraves, Louis, 75n53 Desmier d’Olbreuse, Alexandre II, 60n8 Desmier d’Olbreuse, Alexandre III, 60n8 Desmier d’Olbreuse, Éléonore, 61n12 Diefendorf, Barbara B., 14n52, 15n54, 16nn56–57, 26n87 disguise, 25–27, 46, 49 dragonnades, 8–9, 9n29, 17 dragoons, 9, 19, 28, 33–34, 59, 59n2, 61, 82 Duchêne, Roger, 72n42 Du Noyer, Anne Marguerite Petit, 3, 10–13, 18, 21–28, 81–104 Du Noyer, Anne Marguerite (Poupette), 12 Du Noyer, Catherine Olympe (Pimpette), 12 Du Noyer, Guillaume; 11–13; and his son, 12 Duplessis-Mornay, Anne, 4 Duplessis-Mornay Charlotte Arbaleste, 3–6, 43–51, 53–57 Duplessis-Mornay, Elisabeth, 4 Duplessis-Mornay, Marthe, 4 Duplessis-Mornay, Philippe, 4, 4n9, 5, 43, 51; and his son, 4–5, 53–57 Du Puy-Montbrun, Espérance, 101n44 Du Puy-Montbrun, Jean, 101n44 Duquesne, Abraham-Louis, 11 d’Urfé, Honoré d’, 93n24 Dutch War, 102–103n49 Eberhard III of Württenberg, 98n35
Index 141 Edict of Nantes, 1, 1n1, 3, 8, 8n27, 16–7, 25, 37, 46n22, 60n9, 81, 81n1, 82, 82n3 election (divine), 4, 20–21 Éléonore, Queen, 44n12 Elizabeth, Queen, 4 Elizabeth of Austria, 50n29 emigration, 9, 11–12, 17–22, 24–26, 28, 36–37, 77–79, 81–104 Estienne, Charles, 73n46 Eurich, Amanda, 43n5, 60n6 families, and Wars of Religion, 17, 28–32 female religious orders, and the Protestant Reformation, 70–72; and the Catholic CounterReformation, 71n37 femininity and Protestantism, 1–3, 23–37 femmelette(s), 2 Ferre, Marie de la, 70n34 Fildes, Valerie A., 80n57 Forbush, William Byron, 45n17 Foucault, Nicolas-Joseph, 60n11, 71, 71n41 Foxe, John, 20, 45n17 François d’Anjou, 4n9 Frederick of Hohenzollern, 102 Frederick-Charles of WürttembergWinnental, 99n36 French Wars of Religion, 14–16 Frey, Linda, 103n50 Frey, Marsha, 103n50 friendship (female), and faith, 32–37 Frye, Susan, 32n104 Gannett, Cinthia, 63n19 Gillot, Hubert, 92n20 Goldwyn, Henriette, 10n36, 12n45, 13n49, 31, 32n103 Gonzague, Louis de, duke of Nevers, 46n19
Goulart, Simon, 20 Gout, Raoul, 124–25 Grandjean, Michel, 1n1 Gray, Janet G., 14n50 Haag, Eugène and Émile, 4n9, 95n26, 101n44 Harrison, Peter, 92n19 Haton, Claude, 2, 2n5 Hatto II, 101n45 Henri I de Lorraine, duke of Guise, 46n18 Henri III, 46n22 Henri IV, 46n22 Herbert, Amanda, 32n104 Hsia, R. Po-chia, 14n52, 63n17, 71n35 Huguenot, meaning of word, 14 Hugues de Besançon, 14 Humières, Jean II d’, 43n4 Jackson, Stanley, 44n7 Jussie, Jeanne de, 71n37 Klaus, Carrie F., 71n37 Konnert, Mark W., 43n1 Kuizenga, Donna, 32n103 Labrousse, Élisabeth, 17n59 La Chaise, Père, 12n41, 83, 83n7 La Dauversière, Jérôme le Royer de, 70n34 Laigne, Madeleine Sylvie de la, 60–61, 60n10 La Marck, Henri-Robert de, 43n1, 44n11, 51n32 La Place, Pierre de, 46, 46n21 Lapouyade, Meaudre de, 7nn24–25 La Rapine, 84, 84n11 La Rochelle, 8, 8n27, 9, 12n42, 25, 33, 59, 61–62, 62n14, 63, 65–66, 69, 69n29, 71 Larsen, Anne R., 32n105, 39n123
142 Index Laval de Boisdauphin, Henri-Marie de, 69n29 Le Clerc de Tremblay, Joseph, 74n51 Le Faucheur, Michel, 64, 64n23 Leonard, Amy E., 70n35 Lestonnac. Jeanne de, 71n38 Lestringant, Frank, 20n73 Lewis, Spence, 101n45 L’Hospital, Michel de, 47, 47n23, 50 looting, 45–47 Louis I de Bourbon, prince de Condé, 15, 44n10 Louis XIII, 69n30, 102n48 Louis XIV, 12n41, 16–17, 25, 60n9, 82n3, 102n49 Louvois, François-Michel le Tellier de, 8, 17 Loyola, Ignatius of, 15n53, 63n17 Lumague, Marie de, dame de Polallion, 63n15 Luther, Martin, 14, 22, 99n40 Lux-Sterritt, Laurence, 70n33 Maag, Karin, 64n24 Maclean, Ian, 3n7 Maintenon, Madame de, see Aubigné, Françoise d’ Mansel, Philip, 102n48 Margolin, Jean-Claude, 48n26 Maria of Spain, 50n29 Marillac, René de, 9, 17 Martin, Philippe, 75n53 martyrdom, 20, 20n73 martyrs, 14–15, 20 mass (going to), 11n40, 29–30, 33, 47, 49–51, 78, 81 Maurice of Nassau, prince of Orange, 30, 30n99, 53nn34–35 Maximilian II, 50n29 McCullough, Roy L., 71n41 Médicis, Catherine de, 15, 21n75, 44nn12–13
Médicis, Marie de, 102n48 memoirs, 5–7, 11, 13, 18, 18nn62–63, 19–22, 28–29, 36–38 Mentzer, Raymond A., 4n11, 27n60, 18n62, 64–65n24 Michalski, Sergiusz, 99n40 Migault, Jean, 9, 9n32 mothers, and daughters, 3, 10–12, 29–32, 45–47; and sons, 5, 12, 19–20, 30, 53–57; legacies, 19, 38 Motley, John Lothrop, 53n35 Mougel, Ambrose, 88n15 Moulin, Pierre du, 64, 64n23 Nabarra, Alain, 10n37, 12–13nn45–46 New Converts, 11, 11n40, 33, 68, 68n28, 78 Noailles, Anne de, 82n6 Noailles, Anne Jules de, 82, 82n6 Nordman, Daniel, 48n26 O’Malley, John, 63n17 Orléans-Longueville, Antoinette d’, 74n51 Orléans-Longueville, François d’, 44n12 Osborne, Toby, 102n48 Paige, Nicholas, 18, 18n61 Paré, Ambroise, 53n36 parenting rights, 31–32 Parker, David, 8n27, 9n30, 73n44, 74n49 Pas, Jacques de, 43n4 Pas, Jean de, seigneur de Feuquères or Feuquières, 43, 43n4 Pas, Louis de, 43n4 passports, 48, 48n26, 81 persecution (religious), 15–18, 44–49, 59–61, 82; and women, 19–20, 48–49, 62–76 personal histories, and Calvinism, 18–23
Index 143 Petit, Jacques, 10 Petit, Pierre, 81n1, 82, 94, 100–101, 103–104 Peyrous, Bernard, 70n34 Philip III of Spain, 30n99, 53n37 Phillippy, Patricia, 5n13 Poinsart, Antoinette de, 101n44 Poor Clares of Assisi, 70, 70n35 Potter, David, 43n4 Pritchard, James, 103n49 Protestant networks, 32, 36, 45–51 Providence (divine), 43, 51, 77 psalm singing, 22, 99, 99n39 Racaut, Luc, 2nn2–3, 20n73 Rapley, Elizabeth, 71n38 Refuge, community of Huguenots in exile, 12n42, 20, 43, 43n1; Huguenot exodus, 9, 9n31, 12, 12n42, 17–28, 37, 59, 81 refugees, 1n1, 9n31, 12n42, 12n44, 13, 20, 25n85, 64n22, 93, 93n23 Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, 3, 8–9, 9n31, 11n40, 18, 21–22, 24–25, 28, 36–37, 60n9, 81, 81n1, 82n3, 82n6 Reynolds, Ernest Edwin, 16n58 Reynolds-Cornell, Régine, 10nn37–38, 11n39, 21n75, 81n2, 85n12, 86n13 Richelieu, 16, 102n48 Riga, Peter J., 22n78 Riotte, Torsten, 102n48 Robertson, Karen, 32n104 Roelker, Nancy Lyman, 15n53 Rohan, Catherine de, 44n12, 54 Rohan wars, 8n27 Roussel, Bernard, 1n1 Roye, Éléonore de, 44n10 Ruff, Julius R., 98n34
Saint Bartholomew’s Day (Night) Massacre, 3–4, 4n8, 16, 21n75, 24, 24n84, 25–26, 26n87, 28n95, 37, 43–51 Saint Bruno of Cologne, 88n15 Saint Clare of Assisi, 70n35, 71 Saint-Laurent, Mesdemoiselles de, 9 Sainte-Hermine de la Laigne, Madeleine Sylvie (Madame d’Olbreuse), 60n8 Sarx, Tobias, 103n51 Saumaise, Mademoiselle de, 9, 25, 29, 35–36, 59, 61–62, 64–68, 77, 79 Selderhuis, Herman J., 103n51 solidarity between women, 32–38 Sommerville, Margaret R., 3n7 Spinola, Ambrogio, 53, 53n35 Spongberg, Mary, 28n94 Spooner, Frank, C., 111 Steele, Francesca, 74n51 Suire, Éric, 75n53 Tarbin, Stephanie, 32n104 Thou, Jacques Auguste de, 46, 46n22 toleration toward Huguenots, 16 transubstantiation, 22, 99n38 Treasure, Geoffrey R., 14n52 Tribout, Bruno, 18n62 Trim, David J. B., 54n38 Trivisani-Moreau, Isabelle, 13n49 Trivulzio, Gian Giacomo Teodoro, 53n37 Tsimbidy, Myriam, 13n49 Ursulines, 70, 70n33 van der Linden, David, 9n31, 14n52 van Ruymbeke, Bertrand, 4n11, 17n60, 18n62 Vaucelas, Monsieur de, see Cochefilet Vecellio, Cesare, 49n28
144 Index Vernendaal, Augustus J. Jr., 103n50 Villette, Madeleine de, dame de SainteHermine de la Laigne, 60n10 Vincent de Paul, 63n15, 71n39 Whelan, Ruth, 18n62 Wiesner, Merry E., 3n7 William I of Orange-Nassau, 30n99 Winn, Colette H., 6n21, 28n95, 32n103, 39n123 women and sin, 3 Woshinsky, Barbara R., 70n31 Wright, Wendy M., 70n32