. Paris and its story, by T. Okey; illustrated by Katherine Kimball & O. F. M. Ward . es refused to take part in the butchery, protestingthat his ofiice was not to kill untried persons. AtAngers some of the rich Huguenots were imprisoned andtheir property confiscated by order of Henry of Anjou. Monseigneur, we can make more than 150,000 francsout of them, wrote his agent. Such was the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The death-roll of the victims is known to the Recording Angel was a tremendous folly no less than an indelible crime,for it steeled the heart of every Protestant to avenge hi
. Paris and its story, by T. Okey; illustrated by Katherine Kimball & O. F. M. Ward . es refused to take part in the butchery, protestingthat his ofiice was not to kill untried persons. AtAngers some of the rich Huguenots were imprisoned andtheir property confiscated by order of Henry of Anjou. Monseigneur, we can make more than 150,000 francsout of them, wrote his agent. Such was the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The death-roll of the victims is known to the Recording Angel was a tremendous folly no less than an indelible crime,for it steeled the heart of every Protestant to avenge hisslaughtered brethren. Now known as the Galerie dApollon. ^ Ugotiottorum strages. Inscription on the obverse of the medal. 174 PARIS AND ITS STORY Many of the Huguenot leaders escaped from Paris whilethe soldiers sent to despatch them were pillaging, and theflames of civil strife burst forth fiercer than ever. Thecourt had prepared for massacre, not for war ; and whilethe king was receiving the felicitations of the courts ofSpain and Rome, he was forced by the Peace of La Rochelle. )a«rl. L i^ ^^^VV. PETITE GALERIE OF THE LOUVRE. to concede liberty of conscience to the Protestants and torestore their sequestered estates and offices. After twoyears of agony of mind and remorse, Charles IX. lay dyingof consumption, abandoned by all save his faithful Huguenotnurse. The blood flowing from his nostrils seemed a tokenof Gods wrath ; and moaning Ah ! ma mie, what blood-shed ! what murders! I am lost! I am lost ! the poorcrowned wretch passed to his account. He had not yetreached his twenty-fourth year.
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