The Huguenot Galley Slave Story - Part 3 of 4
His trials were then only beginning. From the galley-hospital he was removed to a dungeon in the fort St. John, which he describes as a vault of an irregular figure, which had formerly been a stable; but, being too damp, was found unhealthy for horses; it was therefore abandoned for that purpose, and considered a suitable receptacle for such unfortunate inmates of the galleys as were no longer able to labor at the oar. The manager and rack still remained to show its original destination; and the light was only admitted through a grating in the door. As he entered the place, they searched him, and took away the only books he had been able to retain till that time. At first, he rested for some nights in the manger, and afterwards, for a month, on a short and narrow chest, which was rendered yet more inconvenient by having a seat of straw placed at each end, so that he could not lie in an easy posture. Nevertheless, he says he slept quietly enough; only that the cold sometimes awakened him, as he had no other covering than the prison garments they had given him in the galley. No fire was allowed him. "This hard entertainment," he observes, "caused me a defluxion on the teeth, great pain, rheumatism, and at length continual fever. But God made use of these means to wean my heart from the world, and to teach me to persevere in a faithful resignation to his will."
Though of a tender constitution, his life seems to have been preserved almost miraculously under so many privations and sufferings. At this period, he was not allowed to see any of his friends; but he still, at times, found opportunity to communicate with them by letter, and likewise to hold similar interaction with his honored fellow-sufferer, M. de Marolles. This was very difficult, as all who assisted the prisoners in such interaction were made liable to the severest punishments, and might even be condemned to death for it. He was sometimes obliged to keep his letters for a year before he could send them.
Though he still possessed his soul in patience, there were seasons when he was led to look on death as his best friend, and to consider that the happiness of his life consisted in losing it. To a beloved relative he writes: "Be sensible of my misery, but be yet more sensible of the glory and happiness to which that misery tends. Death is nothing: Jesus Christ hath conquered that for me; when the time shall come, he will give me sufficient strength to pull off the mask that it wears in great afflictions. The fear of living a long time is greater than that of dying soon. In the meantime, it is more honorable to endure the most wretched life than to desire death."
At times he wrote as if he felt himself dying; and, under this apprehension, he asked pardon of all those whom he had offended through weakness, inadvertence, or otherwise; adding, "I freely forgive those who offended me in any way whatsoever. No! it is not likely I can live much longer, unless the Lord move the hearts of those who give orders for my sustenance. They try always to wear out my patience; and there is reason to believe that the money given for me is not employed for my relief. I do not know what is done with it. That which is certain is, that as I entered into my dungeon, the major told me that the king would not maintain me, and that I ought to give orders for my expenses. (For this purpose he was permitted to send bills of exchange to his relations, drawn by himself; but he was not allowed to accompany them with a single line of information respecting his health or condition in any particular.) I did it, and agreed with a tavern-keeper for ten pence a day, which lasted but three months, because the host that served me cheated me of provisions; and the major favored him, though he seemed not to approve of his conduct when complaint was made to him. He also promised that I should be provided with a mattress and covering, mine being rotten, and my covering all rags; but his promise was of no avail.
In the meantime, how great soever my anguish was, I esteemed it more expedient to endure life than to desire death: unless it be desired as St. Paul did, to live with Christ, to possess the fullness of that holiness and charity, that is only to be found in heaven. God will be glorified by my sufferings; the longer they last, and the more difficult to be supported, the more glory the Lord will have of them. They deny me all manner of commerce with the living, and also with the dead; but the lord, who is my God and my deliverer, has relieved me. He has had pity on my weakness, and has given me patience that I never durst have hoped for. Glory be given to him for it now and forevermore! It is glorious to suffer for his cause. I do not refuse the honor he does me on that account; but I entreat him, by the bowels of his mercy, to work in me more powerfully, both to will and to do according to his good pleasure."
The story continues on the next page . . .
The 17th century account depicted above is from our 4-part series of church history posts, out of the book Stories of The Huguenots. It's a true story of one of the many who suffered while condemned to the slave galley ships of France. Based on the memoirs of the life and death of M. Le Fevre, described in the book as: "a counselor by profession, well educated, and possessed of almost everything which could make life pleasant to him, he was arrested at age 37, on account of his protestant religion; and bore, for sixteen years, the hard yoke of a cruel bondage, with unrepining submission to the word of God; taking joyfully his sufferings, and in the manner of the apostle, 'rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing instant in prayer'." If you are just tuning in, you can get caught up by starting on part 1. Learn more about the French Huguenots on Wikipedia or in a book that I highly recommended called Sketches From Church History. |
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