M. V______’s house, which stood in the middle of the town, was sacked and
then burnt to the ground, without a hand being raised to prevent the
crime.

M. T______’s house, on the road to Montpellier, was sacked and wrecked
and a bonfire made of the furniture, round which the crowd danced; as if
it had been an occasion of public rejoicing.   Then cries were raised for
the proprietor, that he might be killed, and as he could not be found the
baffled fury of the mob vented itself on the dead.  A child three months
buried was dragged from its grave, drawn by the feet through the sewers
and wayside puddles, and then flung on a dung-heap; and, strange to say,
while incendiarism and sacrilege thus ran riot, the mayor of the place
slept so sound that when he awoke he was “quite astonished,” to use his
own expression, to hear what had taken place during the night.

This expedition completed, the same company which had brought this expedition to a successful issue next turned their attention to a small country house occupied by a widow, whom I had often begged to take refuge with us.  But, secure in her insignificance, she had always declined our offers, preferring to live solitary and retired in her own home.  But the freebooters sought her out, burst in her doors, drove her away with blows and insults, destroyed her house and burnt her furniture.  They then proceeded to the vault in which lay the remains of her family, dragged them out of their coffins and scattered them about the fields.  The next day the poor woman-ventured back, collected the desecrated remains with pious care, and replaced them in the vault.  But this was counted to her as a crime; the company returned, once more cast forth the contents of the coffins, and threatened to kill her should she dare to touch them again.  She was often seen in the days that followed shedding bitter tears and watching over the sacred relics as they lay exposed on the ground.

The name of this widow was Pepin, and the scene of the sacrilege was a small enclosure on the hill of the Moulins-a-Vent.

Meantime the people in the Faubourg des Bourgades had invented a new sort of game, or rather, had resolved to vary the serious business of the drama that was being enacted by the introduction of comic scenes.  They had possessed themselves of a number of beetles such as washerwomen use, and hammered in long nails, the points of which projected an inch on the other side in the form of a fleur-de-lis.  Every Protestant who fell into their hands, no matter what his age or rank, was stamped with the bloody emblem, serious wounds being inflicted in many cases.