November 25, 2012

The Battle of Arques, September 1589

For those who are interested in both Christian and 16^th century history, the French “Wars of Religion” provide a tapestry of people, places, and events that will not soon leave the mind. Though the major battles, Ivry, Coutras, and others, are fairly well-known, there were many other battles, sieges and smaller engagements that are seldom discussed. One of these is the Battle of Arques. This battle, which took place in September 1589, featured rivals Henri IV de Navarre (Protestant) and the Duc de Mayenne (Catholic).

The battle began as the result of distrust. As Henri IV was a Huguenot and hated by the majority of Catholic France, even his oath to keep Catholicism as the only “endorsed” religion did not satisfy the people. In return, those same distrustful people took up with the Catholic League --- the scourge of European Protestants --- and declared they would never allow a ‘heretic’ leader. Tensions boiled over. Naturally these tensions morphed into the Battle of Arques.

The war had gone on for twenty-seven years, except for a few relatively peaceful but still bloody years. Henri de Navarre needed to resupply and could not. The Duc de Mayenne was feeling confident. Henri believed it was particularly important to guard Dieppe, which was an invaluable Huguenot asset and possibly the most famous port in France. (This is the place from which the fated Huguenot expedition to La Florida set sail in 1565). Charles de Mayenne naturally wanted the city for himself. Henri pondered and consulted. Finally he went to Arques. There would be no blood shed at Dieppe --- this time.

The enemies met on the 15^th of September. Both armies could boast artillery that rarely missed its mark, and, as de Mayenne’s men were on the lower ground, they were raked with cannon-fire. Yet they managed to leave damage as well. The royal army and de Mayenne’s army found themselves heavily wounded and nearing defeat. It seemed as it might be a draw. Then came a change. Henri IV was disturbed by his army’s dwindling gunpowder supply and wondered if defeat was in his future. But fate intervened when England, a Protestant country long known as a friend to the Huguenots, managed to bring up a few thousand troops to aid the Huguenot army.

The Duc de Mayenne was not happy to see this.

Viewing another attack is improbable and wanting to regroup in a situation where he might have the upper hand, de Mayenne and his army faded away to their next port of call. The Huguenots had won this round. It would be nine more years of warfare before the Edict of Nantes would put an end to the carnage. One wonders if the soldiers had any idea how long it would last. They would have fought forever if need be. The killings at Vassy in 1562, the event that had set off the first War of Religion, were one thing . . . but the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre of 1572 was another thing entirely. Many of the soldiers had lost friends, family, or both in that horrific butchery of Protestant citizens. They would not forget.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 22, 2012

*** Blogger’s Note: I’ve been posting to Joyously Saved nearly every day since February, and it’s been a blessing. Yet now at the end of November, I’ve decided to begin posting only on Sundays. When I started out I had two particular goals in mind: To bring attention to the little-known French Huguenot massacres of 1565, and to remember other martyrs of the Reformation era such as those who died during the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre. I have covered these subjects heavily in my blog and I feel it’s time to spread out my posts. ***

Most Americans don’t think of Thanksgiving as a religious holiday. It’s a time to see family, engorge ourselves on foods we dream about for the rest of the year, and possibly attend one or more school plays or other functions where children merrily dress up like Pilgrims and Indians. Yet, for American Protestant Christians, whose history was further written in stone with the arrival of the Puritans in 1620, the holiday means much more.

Although there were earlier New World settlements such as that of the French Huguenots at Fort Caroline, Florida, they did not last. The Puritan colony grew and thrived. Free from worries over rival settlements, they set up a lasting foundation for Protestant Christianity and for faith in general that guided our country for many years.

So why is Thanksgiving not considered a religious holiday? We know to Whom the Pilgrims were giving thanks . . . they fell down in awe of God and His mercy, gratefully praising Him for allowing them to reach America and to settle a territory they earnestly believed would be a “City on a Hill,” a place of religious courage, fortitude, and purity.

Families still ask children what they are thankful for. Friends, family, a place to live, food, and personal belongings are high on the list. But on this Thanksgiving, I want to relate a long-ago story that popped up from my memory banks. My cousin, who was about four at the time, was asked what she was thankful for. Others had answered “food,” “friends,” “toys,” all the usual. But that little girl smiled and said into the camera, “I’m thankful for God.”

Let us all be thankful for God and for His divine Providence now and always. Happy Thanksgiving!

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 21, 2012

Anabaptist Baptist Martyr Hans Landis: A Brief But Fascinating Story

Hans’ exact birth-date is unknown, and no one is sure exactly when he took up the Anabaptist faith. Details are fuzzy until about the year 1608; this is when Hans was put into prison, though, by the grace of God, friends managed to extricate him. By this time he was a man of the cloth and was considered more dangerous than regular Anabaptist believers due to his dispersal of doctrine. The “Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia” states that contemporaries described Landis as having “a long black beard mixed with gray and a manly voice.” As a preacher, he must have used that booming voice much to his advantage.

When Hans was again captured, he resolutely refused to give up his beliefs. Authorities offered him the chance to leave the country; he said no. He explained that they had no power to give and take land and he would not be intimidated by their decrees. Though exile might have saved him more heartache, he remained, and he took what came.

Again the choice of emigration was given to Hans. The alternatives were dank and dismal, and many gave in. But Hans Landis did not. The hand of God facilitated another escape. Taking up ministerial duties once more was a brave but dangerous act, and he found himself once again imprisoned. This time he would not be so lucky. His family, upon learning that he was to be killed, came in full mournful array, but Hans asked them to leave. He explained that witnessing their grief had the potential to turn him from steadfast martyrdom and he could not bear for it to be so.

Hans Landis was beheaded in 1614, having chosen Christ over the joys of life and the love of family. Many American families proudly share his bloodline and keep his name and memory alive today.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 20, 2012

Cromwell's Army: Basic Facts

Although I am very interested in Protestant and Christian subjects in general from the 1500s through the 1800s, I have never studied much about the Puritans and the English Civil War. Today I chose a random subject to research. It is difficult to discern how much of the feud between Puritans (“Roundheads”) and mostly Anglicans (“Cavaliers”) was based on religion, as political machinations seemed to have a great deal of influence, yet it was still a fascinating subject. I saw many references to the “New Model Army” and wondered what exactly that meant.

This unique fighting force was formed in 1645, and when the monarchy returned to England fifteen years later, it faded away quietly (or perhaps not-so-quietly). One could call this a religion-based army as many if not all were dyed-in-the-wool Puritans who thoroughly agreed with Oliver Cromwell’s reforms. As an exception, the higher-ups, military men who simply wanted to be free of royal restrictions, fought on the side of the Puritans without harboring Puritan tendencies. Many were, in fact, Presbyterian. Being Calvinist in nature, they must have been considered acceptable by the majority of the Puritan soldiers.

The “New Model Army,” like any army, had well-trained infantrymen and cavalrymen but also had a force of dragoons. In a few decades the word “dragoon” would cause chills of fear to sweep through Protestant sections of Europe, as French dragoons would kill, torture, and terrorize Huguenot families before and during the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. One wonders if Cromwell’s dragoons had a milder reputation among their own people than France’s did among theirs.

What did the “New Model Army” wear? According to images and contemporary accounts, soldiers sported very plain uniforms including a helmet with a back lip and a face protector, chest armor, arm and probably leg armor, and a very plain neck-to-knee cloth garment of a pale color. (There were always variations, but this seems to be how the common soldier would have appeared, to my knowledge). The “New Model Army” joined the ranks of Christian soldiers whose armies were actually divided on the basis of differing religions, i.e. the Catholics and Huguenots during the French Wars of Religion and the Catholics and Protestants of the Thirty Years’ War. Though such conditions had existed previously in history, sectarian violence was much furthered in the 16^th and 17^th centuries.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 19, 2012

Charles II de Quelenec: Victim of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre

When I think of Paris, I have a very different image than others, and I don’t think anyone would envy my image. Many associate the grand old city with the soaring, stark beauty of La Tour Eiffel, outdoor cafes, art and music, high fashion, and fabulous shopping, or perhaps with the medieval grandeur of Le Cathédrale de Notre-Dame. Yet having studied 16^th century history and having a close and personal connection to the Huguenots, the word “Paris” evokes sadness for me. This is because of the horrific St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre of August 1572. (See my post of August 24^th). I would love to commemorate each and every name if I could, but as so many Protestants were killed (numbers in the thousands) it would be impossible to do so. Thus I occasionally choose a man or woman to write about, to remember, and to try to flesh out as best I can.

His name was Charles de Quelenec, and he was born in a place called Rostrenen in the Cotes-du-Nord of France around the year 1548. In 1567 (five years before death) he married a woman named Catherine de Parthenay-l’Archeveque. It does not appear that Catherine shared Charles’ fate. She was said to have died in 1631. Upon further inspection I did find more information on Charles, although my inability to read French led me to a translation site. It sounds as if Charles is actually “Charles de Quelenec II” and that he was a “Protestant noble” who was murdered for his faith at the Louvre on the night of the St. Bartholomew’s massacre. This information seems to say he was the son of Jean de Quelenec IV and Jeanne de Moor.

It sounds as if Charles held the rank of captain at the time of his marriage to Catherine. She was quite an educated young lady and was well-respected in her era. I was interested to discover, albeit in the sloppiness of imperfect translation, that Charles was apparently captured at the 1569 Battle of Jarnac. Considering that Louis de Condé had been slaughtered outright, Charles may have considered himself lucky. He suffered through such trials as the absence of his wife and lack of a fair trial (I read through the translation as best I could!) and it sounds as Catherine desired a divorce sometime around 1570. By 1572, Charles must have already felt as if he had gone through a great many battles.

He was staying in the Louvre, a royal palace in the 16^th century, and probably felt protected there. As a noble with friends in high places, he likely believed that his Protestant creed would be overlooked. (Which was not always the case; see my post of November 17^th). By this time there were certain rumors regarding Charles’ inability to produce an heir. Though French society may have hated the Huguenots, even Huguenots were not immune to gossip and were often just as harangued for one thing or another as were their Catholic counterparts. During the massacre Charles and another man were summoned into the courtyard. Embarking on what they probably thought was a routine mission, they were subsequently killed.

Charles de Quelenec’s young and troubled life ended at the age of twenty-four.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 18, 2012

A Word of Love

The word “grace” is very special to me. It reminds me of God’s promises, of Jesus’ sacrifice, of the agonizing beauty of the cross. It also gives me a direct connection to my Protestant ancestors, martyrs, refugees, men and women of faith. They were willing to die just the right to believe in salvation by grace, and I love songs and poems that speak of this doctrine. Below is a lovely song by Julia H. Johnston, known as “Grace Greater Than Our Sin.”

Marvelous grace of our loving Lord,
Grace that exceeds our sin and our guilt!
Yonder on Calvary’s mount outpoured,
There where the blood of the Lamb was spilled.

Refrain

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

Sin and despair, like the sea waves cold,
Threaten the soul with infinite loss;
Grace that is greater, yes, grace untold,
Points to the refuge, the mighty cross.

Refrain

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

Dark is the stain that we cannot hide.
What can avail to wash it away?
Look! There is flowing a crimson tide,
Brighter than snow you may be today.

Refrain

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace,
Freely bestowed on all who believe!
You that are longing to see His face,
Will you this moment His grace receive?

Refrain

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 17, 2012

One of Many, A Story Far Too Common

His name was Jean de la Fontaine, and he was sixty-three years old. In earlier life he would have been well-known for his connections to the French court, for his father insisted that he retain such ties in order to make a good living for himself. He would have been a familiar face in higher circles. Yet by his sixth decade of life he was known for something far more deadly: his Protestant creed.

Jean and his father Gilles had embraced the Reformation in its infancy. Jean, believing that if he remained in court he would be exempt from persecution, stayed in the king’s service. He found it possible to shield fellow French Protestants from harm and he gave his life to the dueling desires of practicing his faith and helping the Huguenots, and of collecting praise from the monarchy so he and his kin might remain safe. This backfired in 1563.

He believed that after the Peace of Amboise, which brought an end to the first bloody War of Religion that had been triggered by the 1562 Massacre of Vassy (see post of August 30th), he was no longer dependent on his court duties to keep him from harm. He willingly gave up his titles and went home to be with a family who rejoiced over the recent ceasing of war. This rejoicing did not last long. On the tenth of May 1563, sixty-three-year-old Jean de la Fontaine was asleep when men discontent with the recent rulings broke into his home and disturbed the peace.

There was little time for negotiation.

Jean was killed on his front lawn for professing the Huguenot faith. His wife, who had taken it upon herself to plead for his life, was treated to the same: martyrdom at the tip of a dagger. It is unknown how many children were in the house at the time, but it is believed that Jean’s firstborn son and perhaps a servant were also killed. Thus ended what had been a noble and affluent life. This end came about not due to any crime on Jean’s part --- though in these first decades of the Reformation and for long after, the mere profession of Protestantism was considered a crime worthy of death --- but due to intolerance, lack of compassion, and fanaticism.

Jean de la Fontaine was but one Huguenot victim of many. I remember reading an opinion once that if Protestants canonized all of their martyrs as Catholics canonize their saints, there would be too many to enumerate.  But our refusal to cast our martyrs in this light does not mean that we do not honor and appreciate them. We are very well aware of our heritage of bloodshed and persecution, a heritage also of strength, steadfastness, and undying faith and fortitude. Jean de la Fontaine is one example . . . one precious, ill-fated example of taking up his cross and following Christ instead of the world.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved