was neither
robbery nor plunder. A week later, the same fate befel the paintings in
the church of the Augustinians. After another and a shorter interval,
the chapels of St. Antoine, St. Michel, St. Roch, St. Barthelemi, and
Notre Dame de Baquet, witnessed similar scenes of destruction. It was at
this juncture that the edict of July was brought to Montauban and
publicly proclaimed. Nothing could have been more inopportune. The
raging fever of the popular pulse had been mistaken for a transient
excitement, and the specific now administered, far from quenching the
patient's burning thirst, only stimulated it to a more irrepressible
craving. That very evening (Tuesday, the twenty-sixth of August), the
people, irritated beyond endurance, gathered around the Dominican
church. The monks, forewarned of their danger, had taken the precaution
to fortify themselves. They now rang the tocsin, but no one came to
their rescue, and the stronghold was speedily taken. The assailants,
however, cherished no enmity toward God's image in human flesh and
bones. So, after effectually destroying all man's efforts to represent
the Divine likeness in stone or on canvas, the Huguenots proceeded to
the Carmelite Church. Here rich trophies awaited them--a "Saint Suaire"
and relics, which, on close inspection, were found to be the bones of
horses instead of belonging to the saintly personages whose names they
had borne. The reader will scarcely feel surprise to learn that the
monks--with the single exception of the Franciscans--now judged that the
time for them to leave the city had arrived.

Instructed by the somewhat suggestive example of the fate that had
befallen their brethren, the black and white friars, and, doubtless
considering discretion the better part of valor, the priests of the
collegiate church of St. Stephen abandoned their preparations for
defence, and, stipulating only for their own safety, gave up their
paintings to be consigned to the flames. A bonfire was kindled on one of
the public squares; and while the sacred pictures and images thrown upon
it were being slowly consumed, bands of children looked on and chanted
in chorus the metrical paraphrase of the ten commandments. The city
being thus cleared of its public objects of superstitious
devotion,[1051] the people next turned their attention to those of a
more private character. As the crowds moved along the streets they
earnestly appealed to the inmates of the houses to follow