Old and New Paris: Its History, Its People, and Its Places, v. 1

by H. Sutherland Edwards

The Protestants of Paris had not at that time either churches or clergy, but they already had schools. “Hedge schools” they were called, from being held in the country. They would not have been permitted in the town.

The first Protestant place of worship established in Paris was at a house in the Pré-aux-Clercs. Protestant congregations were often surprised; and in 1557 a number of Protestants assembled for worship at a house in the Rue Saint-Jacques, opposite the building where the Lycée Louis le Grand is now located, were besieged by a number of priests attached to the Collège du Plessis. The populace took part in the attack; and after remaining indoors six hours, those who at last went out were stoned, and in several instances killed. The rest of the congregation, to the number of 135, were made prisoners, and many of them sentenced to death. Among those executed was the young and beautiful widow of a member of the Consistory, Mme. de Graveron, who, “seated on the tumbril, showed a rosy countenance of excellent beauty.” Her tongue had been cut out, which was often done in those days to prevent the exhortations which martyrs might address to the mob. At other times, as afterwards at the execution of Louis XVI., a constant rolling of drums was kept up. It was granted to Mme. de Graveron as a special favour that flames should be applied only to her feet and face, and that she should be strangled before her body was burnt.

The Protestant poet, Clément Marot, to whom Francis I. had given a house, called the House of the Bronze Horse (now Number 30, Rue de Condé and 27, Rue de Tournon), translated at this epoch some of the psalms into French verse; and his version had an extraordinary vogue even at the court. The students who, at the close of day, were accustomed to amuse themselves in the Pré-aux-Clercs opposite the Louvre, replaced their ordinary songs by the psalms of Clément Marot; and it became the fashion with the lords and ladies of the court to cross the Seine in order to hear the singing of the “clerks.” Often they would themselves join in, and the Huguenot King of Navarre, Antoine de Bourbon, was frequently seen singing the psalms in the “meadow” at the head of a long procession of courtiers and students.

But persecution, which for a time had ceased, began anew: Marot was obliged to fly. In spite of the danger by which they were threatened, the deputies of the Protestant churches of France met at Paris in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and there, in 1559, held their first national Synod. Francis I., husband of Mary Stuart, allowed the cruel work of his father to be continued. Under his reign the illustrious chancellor Du Bourg was burnt and hanged; as to which Voltaire declared that “this murder did more for Protestantism than all the eloquent works produced by its defenders.” Cardinal de Lorraine made many other {288} victims, surrounding on one occasion a Protestant place of assembly, and taking all he could find within. There were secret passages, however, communicating with the buildings around, so that many persons effected their escape. The secret head-quarters of the Reformed Church in France were in the Rue des Marais-Saint-Germain, now called the Rue Visconti. Its ancient name, which need scarcely have been changed, was borne by it for more than three centuries; during which time it was inhabited, or frequently visited, by all the old Protestants of Paris: by the D’Aubignés and the Du Moulins; as later on by the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, Mme. de Sévigné, Racine and Voltaire, Mme. Clairon and Adrienne Lecouvreur.

Meanwhile the Reformation was constantly gaining ground in Paris. Coligny and his two brothers, one of whom was a cardinal, joined it openly; whereupon a monk, Jean de Han, preached against him, taking for his text, “Ite in castellum quod contra vos est,” and translating it thus: “Fall upon Châtillon, who is against you.” On becoming Regent, Catherine de Médicis, hesitating between the two religions, tried to {289} bring together the Châtillons and those champions of Catholicism, the Guises. With a view to conciliation the conference of Poissy was held; and though no positive result was secured, the Reformed religion was allowed to be practised openly, though its places of worship were, for the most part, beyond the City walls.

From time to time, however, a Protestant “temple” was attacked and burnt; and once, when one of these onslaughts caused a riot, Gabaston, Chief of the Watch, was hanged for arresting indiscriminately the rioters of both religions. The massacre of Vassy (directed by Guise, who boasted that he would cut the edict of toleration in favour of the Protestants with the edge of his sword) and two civil wars were but the prelude to the terrible Massacre of Saint Bartholomew.

The extermination of the heretics had been recommended many times to Catherine de Médicis by Philip II., by the Duke of Alva, and by Pope Saint Pius V. (Letter 12 of Charles IX. and Papal Bull of August 1, 1568). The queen, after much hesitation, took a sudden resolution, when the Guises aggravated the situation by causing the assassination of Coligny. Catherine obtained, at the last moment, the consent of the king. But it was the brother and successor of Charles, it was Henri III. who assumed the direction of the massacre, and posted himself on the centre of the bridge of Notre Dame, in order to see what took place on both banks of the river. How the bell of Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois gave the signal for the massacre, and how Coligny, after escaping with some severe wounds from the first attack, was afterwards put to death, has already been told. In the midst of the general slaughter a few Huguenots of distinction remained safe. Charles IX. kept in his own room the eminent surgeon, Ambroise Paré, of whom he had need, and his old nurse, Philippe Richard, whom he loved. Nor did anyone venture to attack Renée, daughter of Louis XII., a zealous Protestant, who was fortunate enough to save a few of her young co-religionists by giving them shelter in her mansion on the left bank of the river. Two days after the massacre {290} thanksgivings were offered up by the clergy, who headed a procession in which all the Court, with the exception of Henri of Navarre, afterwards Henri IV. of France, took part. The King was congratulated from the pulpit by the Bishop of Asti on having “in one morning purged France of heresy.” Little did the prelate foresee that the Church of Saint-Thomas of the Louvre in which he was preaching would, some two centuries later, become the recognised centre of this same heresy.