Later on came those terrible times of the persecutions in the Netherlands, when women were buried alive, and men were burned at the stake for their faith. The Crommelins fled to France, and a pious ancestor of that day wrote the history of their adventures, which record is preserved in the British Museum. It begins, "_Au nom de Dieu. Armand Crommelin et sa femme vivoient dans le Seizième Siécle, dans un tems de troubles, de guerres, de persécutions cruelles, etc._" This was their first flight. In France they prospered exceedingly by special favour of Henri IV., until came the Edict of Nantes. But acting on the old Huguenot motto, "Mieux vaut quitter patrie que foi," they chose exile rather than renounce their religion. This time, one brother escaped with difficulty to Holland, where his descendants still reside, but another, Louis Crommelin, offered his sword to William of Orange, crossed with him to England, and finally settled in the north of Ireland, where he brought Huguenot weavers and taught the linen trade, which is one of the greatest sources of Ulster's commercial prosperity. To this day his name is honoured as a benefactor, and he received a Royal grant from William III., which founded anew the fortunes of his family.
The de la Cherois, who were of a noble family in Champagne, also fled with difficulty from France. They and the Crommelins were closely connected by marriage, and also married into other families of the little Huguenot colony in Ulster. "Perhaps this keeping to themselves preserved their foreign characteristics longer and their faith stronger," says your hostess. "Then one ancestress--we have her picture at home, taken in a flowing white gown, and piled-up curls--married the last Earl of Mount Alexander. At her death she left the present County Down estate to my great-grandfather. He first, I think, took unto himself a wife of the daughters of Heth. She was a beautiful Miss Dobbs, of the family now living at Castle Dobbs in County Antrim. I must show you a photograph of her portrait. Would it not make a lovely fancy dress?--the grey gown with puffed sleeves and neck-ruffle, and wide riding-hat and feathers. Then my grandfather married the Honourable Elizabeth de Moleyns, Lord Ventry's daughter. You see her picture is scanty skirted, with the waist under the arms. My grandfather must have been rather too splendid in his ideas. Some of these were for improving the country generally, as well as his own estate, but he lost many thousands in trying to carry them into practice. I must tell you that an ancestress, Judith de la Cherois, escaped from France with her sister by riding at night across the country, their jewels sewn in their dresses. She lived to be 113, and was quite strong to the last, and though she lived fifty years in Ireland she could never speak English, which she said, with vexation, was because people laughed rudely at her first attempts.