Palissy the Huguenot Potter: A True Tale

by C. L. Brightwell

CHAPTER XIV.

“And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus; and when I saw her I wondered with great admiration.”—Rev. xvii. 6.

The present chapter will embrace the history of ten years in the life of Palissy—years full of terrible interest to France, during which there were two more bursts of civil war, with intervals of peace between, and followed by that event of world-wide renown in the annals of crime and blood, the massacre of St. Bartholomew. During those years Bernard was quietly and laboriously engaged, protected from harm by the patronage of the court, and probably also, having learned from experience the necessity of a prudent restraint in the utterance of his opinions.

Arrived at Paris, he established his workshop in a place allotted to him in the precincts of the Tuileries, and the gardens that partly occupied the site of the new palace, and surrounded by the debris of buildings that had to be removed, and the scaffolding of workmen who were engaged about the new erections. At no great distance was the Louvre itself, then a new structure and the royal residence; and queen Catherine, attended by her courtiers, frequently went to watch the progress of the buildings, and to direct, with her admirable taste, the works of Palissy, familiarly known as “Master Bernard, of the Tuileries.” There is still in existence, in the royal library at Paris, a MS., containing an account of the queen’s expenditures, dated 1570, among which is a note of payment “to Bernard, Nicole, and Mathurin Palissy, sculptors in earth, for the sum of 2,600 livres, for all the works in earth, baked and enamelled, which have yet to be made to complete the quatre pans au pourtour, (the four parts of the circumference) of the grotto commenced by the queen, in her palace, near the Louvre at Paris, according to the agreement made with them.”

We are told that his taste being improved by the study of the great works of Italian art, he became a more consummate artist, and produced masterpieces, far surpassing his former efforts. He found, also, much employment in garden architecture, then greatly in vogue, and for which his larger pieces, rocks, trees, animals, and even human figures, were designed. A few only of these have withstood the accidents of time, but it is known they adorned some of the sumptuous residences of the French nobles in that day, especially the château of Chaulnes, that of Nesles, in Picardy, and of Reux, in Normandy. His smaller productions, designed to ornament rooms, and to find a place in the buffets and cabinets of the wealthy, were very numerous; and such as have been preserved are highly valued, as works of art, at the present time. Statuettes, elegant groups, ewers, vases, with grotesque ornaments, plates, rustic basins, cups, tiles for the walls and floors of mansions, as well as for the stoves used on the continent; all these, and many similar articles, were made in great perfection by our skilful artist. [142] Working thus, with busy hands and inventive skill, Palissy saw the years pass by, and beheld strange scenes, far exceeding in fearful interest all he had formerly witnessed.

He spoke from experience when he said, “If you had seen the horrible excesses of men that I have seen, during these troubles, not a hair of your head but would have trembled at the fear of falling to the mercy of men’s malice; and he who has not beheld such things, could never think how great and fearful a persecution is.” He had scarcely become settled in his new occupation when the “Second Troubles” broke out; and one of the first victims of the war was his great patron, the constable Montmorency. Upon the tenth of November, 1567, the battle of St. Denys was fought outside the walls of Paris, when the aged constable, at the head of his army, in fine array, with colours flying and drums beating, marched out to meet the foe. The heights of Montmartre presented, on that occasion, a strange spectacle. They were crowded with eager spectators, in the highest excitement; all the busy, restless population of the great city flocking there, to gaze upon the scene of warfare. Priests chanting litanies and distributing chaplets to the warriors, foreign ambassadors, fair ladies dressed as Amazons, some even carrying lances, which they vibrated in the air, and magistrates and doctors, wearing cuirasses beneath their robes; a motley crowd of every rank and condition huddled together, with mingled curiosity and terror, waiting the result of the fight.

The short winter’s day was closing fast when the battle commenced, and an hour of bloody strife followed. The result was fatal to the gallant old veteran, whose resolution and bravery led him to push forward into the midst of the Huguenot ranks. Five times was he wounded, yet still fought on, and then received the mortal stroke, and was left, stretched, amid the dead and dying, on the field. Still living, though suffering deadly agony, he was borne back within those walls he had left in so different a manner but a few hours before. The night was dark and rainy, his pains were grievous, and he desired to breathe his last where he lay; but those around intreated that he would suffer himself to be carried to Paris, where he died on the following day, preserving to the last a surprising fortitude and endurance.

The court ordered a magnificent funeral for the grim old warrior, whose rugged and austere manners had rendered him so obnoxious to many, and whose religious bigotry was but too much in accordance with the spirit of his times. At his own request he was buried at his favourite estate at Écouen, where Palissy had so long wrought in his service. To Bernard he had proved a generous patron and a steady friend, and his hand had been outstretched to save him from the gallows.