Truth is ancient; it's grey hairs may make it venerable;
it comes from Him who is the ancient of days. --Thomas Watson

 

18 January, 2008   comments: (0) Wonderful Plan?   The Huguenot Galley Slave Story - Part 2 of 4 We may here observe, that the convicts in France then, as in the present day, were conducted to their place of destination, not only manacled and coupled together, as in England, but beside this, a chain passing through the ring on the fetters of each prisoner, linked the first couple to the second, and so on in the succession, so linking the whole party, however numerous, and rendering escape on the road impossible: hence the use of the phrase, "the chain," to express the body of prisoners sent off to the galleys. M. Le Fever was detained about two months at Dijon, and then conducted, with his companions in misery, to Chalons, where the chain that came from Paris also arrived about the same time; and to this was attached the devoted M. de Marolles, whose sufferings occupy another chapter of this book. He was, at that time, ill with fever; and the sickness of this good man seems to have been far more afflicting to M. Le Fevre than his own sufferings. He writes to a friend: "If it were not for the sickness of the illustrious M. de Marolles, which continues still, I would tell you, my dear friend, nothing but matters of rejoicing: but my heart is wounded. I hope, with the assistance of heaven, that the fever of that servant of the Lord Jesus will abate by rest." When they finally arrived at Marseilles, both de Marolles and Le Fevre were found unable to work, and were removed to the hospital of the galley; from whence the following letter, descriptive of their afflictions and their abounding consolation, under all, was written by M. Le Fevre, on the 20th of August, 1686. "It seems to me that my flesh has grown suddenly old. I found myself in the pains of death: the guard suddenly thought me dead, and as such one took one thing, and another took another thing from me; and had it not been for the little stop we made at Avignon, I could expect nothing short of a cruel death. With long entreaties, M. de St. P_____ suffered me to take a litter, on paying for the guard. Money was a great assistance to me: I have dispersed it. But wherefore all those cares and expenses, to come to a place that may be called the abode of misery; where I am mixed with a very great number of galley-slaves? I have been forty-eight hours without being able to eat or drink what they give here, or capable of closing my eyes to sleep. At last, commending my soul to God, in that condition I saw Mr. J (who was supposed to be a physician) coming to me, who told me that I was recommended to him by his friend G. After that visit, the fever left me. My life is not precious to me; I could leave it with delight, if that were God's will; but the Lord appears to work miracles to preserve me. Farewell, my dear: greet the brethren, and pray for me. The continue controversies with me, and speak of changing my religion. How long, O Lord!" While he was in that hospital, with M. de Marolles, he was very ill. "I fall," said he, "from one relapse to another, and have found myself at death's door. The physician of the hospital took great care of me, and he was in wonder to see that I was not complaining, and 'that the pains I endured did not make me sigh.' I could not walk these two days, and found myself very weak; yet do not believe for all that, that our condition is so unhappy as the people of the world think it; no, doubtless, if it weren't for the testimony of a good conscience, we are happy; and nothing can take our joy for us in our sufferings. The Divine Comforter, who puts us all in heart, comes to our assistance: sometimes he hides himself, because we are people of little faith; but God pities our necessities: he supports us, and takes us by the hand; and in that state death is no longer a king of terrors to us. We are assured by him that loved us, that we shall receive mercy and die the death of the righteous. What a comfort! What a solid happiness is this!" In a letter of the 17th of September, 1686, M. Le Fever says: "They sent me and M. de Marolles to the galleys, without any regard that we are languishing and sick. M. de Marolles soon began to walk, but I cannot stand. He was declared an invalid, and put into the [hospital], so that he was exempted from rowing; and I expect only what it shall please God to send me. I went onboard yesterday, where I was immediately loaded with chains. To all this I [embrace] the will of God. If poverty, sickness, pains and captivity, are the means God will make use of, why should I refuse them? I shall die contentedly when it may please God to call me. In these hard extremes, though God should slay me, yet will I hope in him, and praise him all the days of my life. I am reduced to lie on a board that is but a little more than two feet wide. I have nothing to cover me; but the galley-slaves, my neighbors, have [given me their clothes]: and if the lice and bugs did not disturb me, I have found myself disposed to sleep. While I was on board the Grand Reale, I joined the others; for, in the galley, all the slaves are entered down, from where ever they came. She never goes to sea, nor moves out of the harbor. When she has many slaves on board they are all sorted, from time to time, except those they have a respect for; and they are brought into a spacious place, where the intendant, the commissary general, and the captains of the galleys meet; and they make choice of the most vigorous of those who are able to row, and the rest are sent back to the Grand Reale until further orders. Choice being made of those who are in health, they are divided on the armed galleys. Each captain takes his share. My looks were of use to me: I was not chosen on that occasion." Before he was removed from the galley to the dungeon, M. Le Fevre found means to send the following letter to his pastor: "My design was, dear pastor, to give you an exact relation of what happened to me; but certain reasons hindered me. I shall tell you in short, my condition. I told you before, that I was watched, and shut up, and had seen no one. I was then put on board a galley. I was loaded with irons and chains. I lay on the boards, though it was very cold. They hindered me from covering myself. They railed at me, and lifted up their cudgels against me. A fever seized me and my body was full of pains. In that condition my soul, raising itself above visible things, sought its God, and its only hope. The comforts that our Lord Jesus Christ gave us increased proportionally to the number of evils that we endured for his sake. He encouraged me in all my fears, and said unto me, 'I am thy salvation.' On board one galley, I witnessed the assistance of men, on board the other, I experienced the help of God. What shall I say to you? That holy and divine Spirit was himself my comforter. Who else could make me despise the things I feared the most? The faithfulness of my God is great! He is near those that wait on him, to support, maintain, and defend them. He leads us through darkness to his marvelous light; and among the dread of the galleys, he makes us taste ineffable delights. I might truly say, (with the apostle) 'When I am weak, then I am truly strong.' I shall only add, that I am weakness itself. I have fightings without and fears within. My heart is often troubled; my soul trembles, and finds itself fainting; and if God comforts me, it is because he is my refuge, and that divers persons, that are acceptable to him, pray for my preservation in faith and love. I conjure you then, by the love you have for me, to pray without ceasing; and not for me alone, but for my dear fellow-sufferers also. Here are diverse witnesses, who preserve their faith and hope inviolably, and who are resolved to suffer all, yea, death itself, if it please the Lord, 'for the word of God, and the testimony of Jesus.' We endeavor to attain the mark of our high calling. The race is difficult; the way is rough; but we cast our eyes on the Lord Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. We place all our confidence in him that raised from the dead, who 'calls things that are not, as though they were.'" 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 receptable for such unfortunate inmates of the galleys as were no longer able to labor at the oar. 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. Posted by: Jim B.   Link: http://www.oldtruth.com/blog.cfm/id.2.pid.912   Be the first to post a comment about this article        Home  |   About  |  Videos   |  Calvinism