thus described by Cavalier,
in his "Memoirs of the Wars of the Cevennes," London, 1726:
"This inhuman man had invented a rack (more cruel, if it be
possible, than that usually made use of) to torment these
poor unfortunate gentlemen and ladies; which was a beam he
caused to be split in two, with vices at each end. Every
morning he would send for these poor people, in order to
examine them, and if they refused to confess what he desired,
he caused their legs to be put in the slit of the beam, and
there squeezed them till the bones cracked," &c., &c. (p.
35).]

The insurrection of the French peasantry proved by far the most
determined and protracted of the two; arising probably from the more
difficult character of the mountain districts which they occupied and
the quicker military instincts of the people, as well as because
several of their early leaders and organizers were veteran soldiers
who had served in many campaigns. The Scotch insurgents were
suppressed by the English army under the Duke of Monmouth in less than
two months after the original outbreak, though their cause eventually
triumphed in the Revolution of 1688; whereas the peasantry of the
Cevennes, though deprived of all extraneous help, continued to
maintain a heroic struggle for several years, but were under the
necessity of at last succumbing to the overpowering military force of
Louis XIV., after which the Huguenots of France continued to be
stamped out of sight, and apparently out of existence, for nearly a
century.

* * * * *

In the preceding chapter, we left the archpriest Chayla a corpse at
the feet of his murderers. Several of the soldiers found in the
chateau were also killed, as well as the cook and house-steward, who
had helped to torture the prisoners. But one of the domestics, and a
soldier, who had treated them with kindness, were, at their
intercession, pardoned and set at liberty. The corpses were brought
together in the garden, and Seguier and his companions, kneeling round
them--a grim and ghastly sight--sang psalms until daybreak, the
uncouth harmony mingling with the crackling of the flames of the
dwelling overhead, and the sullen roar of the river rushing under the
neighbouring bridge.

When the grey of morning appeared, the men rose from their knees,
emerged from the garden, crossed the bridge, and marched up