After escaping the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre in 1572, my ancestor found a new home in Switzerland. For 200 years, all was fine and good until Mr. Bonaparte decided that he needed yet another cherry on his cake and sent his army here, occupying the country and killing a couple of hundred people. One of them just happened to be my great-great-great- well, grandfather by many degrees. Considering these circumstances, I still find it a little strange to remember history lessons in which I was taught... read more
