Just going through a book and here are some Nostradamus references
from it:
Eugen Weber Apocalypses
Many readers know this story. What they may not know is that,
in accordance with the decree Of Messidor, year III, the Annuaire du
Bureau des Longitudes continues to publish every year a concordance
between the Republican calendar and the Gregorian.

A French historian, Daniel Milo, has argued that "siècles" came into
their own with the Revolutionary system that structured time
decimally, as it did other measures, and thereby confirmed the century
as the standard historical unit-and also opened the way to thoughts of
a fin de siècles." Milo makes an important point, though it is
probable that the new era did not devote much thought to conclusions.
The 1790s was a dawn when it was bliss to be alive, or else it was a
nervous time. Either way, the turning point it focused on was
millennial rather than secular. Pietists from Russia to New England
focused on the end of the world, not of the century; and so did Julie
de Krudener, the lady who prayed with Alexander I, and who persuaded
the tsar to influence his fellow monarchs to sign the Holy Alliance.

So no fin de siècle, yet, but more references to the century, to
enfants du siècle, to l'esprit du siècle, and so on. The French
dictionary of quotations that I keep on my desk lists four citations
of siècle before 1800, and nineteen for the nineteenth century It is
hardly a scientific survey, but the proportions are about right for a
century that savored exactness and positive knowledge, and also
realized that centuries do not necessarily coincide with calendar
dates.

Centuries had not done so for a long time, signifying more usually a
generation, a period, an epoch of variable length. Roman emperors
described their reign as a saeculum. When Heinrich Bullinger, the
Zwinglian theologian, preached on the fin du siècle in Zurich in 1557,
he meant the coming judgement and the end of times. '3 But this
indeterminate usage became more focused, again in the sixteenth
century, when Michel Nostradamus published his prophecies as centuries
of 100 stanzas each, and the Protestant "centuriators" of Magdeburg
organized their historical chronology by centuries. By the late
seventeenth century, siècle has come into its own, and in December
1699 we learn from the most popular French periodical of the day, the
Mercure galant, that the century to come raise hotly debated
questions: "Some claim that it's about to begin, others contend that
it will only begin in 1701 [14]

Once the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries began to use siècle
in the modern historical and chronological sense, the usage became
first natural, then unavoidable, reflecting also the attraction of
round numbers. In 1772, a year after it was published, William Hooper,
MD, translated an early science-fiction book, Sébastien Mercier's
Mémoires de l'an 2440, and changed 2440 to 2500. Most English and
American editions have kept the easy secular date.

But what about fin de siècle? Sooner or later, beginnings suggest
ends, and ends suggest decline. The saeculum of a Roman emperor quite
often ended in tragedy and failure. Hebrew and Christian apocalyptic
works that have survived from the centuries before and after the birth
of Christ imply as much. The Hebrew Apocalypse of Baruch was far from
the only declaration. If, as George Bernard Shaw declared, both Wagner
and Marx prophesied the end of our epoch, that may explain why
Wagnerism in France and Britain, and in France before Britain, came
into its own at the fin de siècle, just as visions, prophecies, and
mysticism revived. Fin de siècle France was full of bleeding hosts,
cyboriums crying tears, apparitions, prodigies, comets, meteorites,
and even flying serpents, earthquakes at home, and news of exploding
volcanoes abroad. Readers of Nostradamus knew that he expected the end
of the world in 1886, but he could have been out by a decade or two.
At any rate, in December 1899, we find George Gissing in Paris,
writing a book to be called Among the Prophets, which, he explained,
"deals with new religions and crazes of various kinds. "20

We haven't paid enough attention to new nineteenth- century religions,
most of which were old religions. But if they revived, as Catholic
enthusiasm revived and Wagnerite enthusiasm flourished on the midden
of decadence, that was because (or also because fin de siècle could be
made to coincide with fin des siècles, the end of time.
The index of Mgr. Ronald Knox's study of religious Enthusiasm (1950)
lists ten dates between 1260 and 1834 when a Second Coming was
expected; and any diligent researcher could easily add ten hundred
more.

To mention only a few that might concern our immediate future, William
Butler Yeats, the poet who predicted a Celtic Armageddon in 1899,
seems to have expected the end of the Christian era in 2000, when the
rough beast, "Its hour come at last," would slouch to replace Jesus.
So does the Reverend Tim La Haye, and so did several other
ecclesiastics: Protestant ministers like Robert Fleming in the
eighteenth century, Robert Scott in the nineteenth century, or the
Catholic canon Rodriguez Cristino Morondo in the twentieth century.
Nostradamus appears to have expected the end, or the beginning of the
end, in 1999 (the seventh month of 1999 to be precise), while
numerological readings vary between 1999 and 2001 So, apparently, does
the Mayan calendar. Tynetta Muhammad, a numerologist belonging to the
Nation of Islam, has recalculated the code of the Koran to conclude
that we may expect the end in 2001'

The "rapture," which in some views is to remove the minority of saints
from earth during the horrors of tribulation, has become part of
doomsday chic.
Rapture wristwatches proclaim "One hour nearer to the Lord's return."
Bumper stickers request "Beam me up, Lord." Dashboard signs warn, "If
you hear a trumpet, grab the wheel."
The religious civil wars that tore the French apart began in 1560 and
ended only with the century. Long before the conspiracies, massacres,
and pitched battles that marked those dire decades, people had become
accustomed to living on the razor's edge between a corrupt world and
the catastrophic judgement that awaited it. The 1530s brought news of
the bloodshed at Münster, the 1540s of the slaughter of Vaudois
Protestants in Piedmont. Calvin's Institutes, first published in
Latin, appeared in a French translation in 1541, the year when
Ignatius Loyola became general of the recently founded Company of
Jesus and one year before the (re)creation of the Roman Inquisition.
Loyola was linked by his admirers to the Fifth Angel of the
Apocalypse, at the sound of whose trumpet a great star falls from
heaven-the evil star representing Luther and his pernicious army of
Protestant locusts.7 But the word of Calvin was spreading too, and the
1550s would see it take hold far beyond Geneva. Crouzet argues from
the eschatological panic of the time to the successes of Calvinism,
which transcended apocalyptic terrors by offering a new economy of
salvation. 8 He may be right; but damnation was more in evidence than
salvation of any kind.

As princes died violent deaths or hunted down their subjects, social
and political order disintegrated, justice dissolved, arid the tide of
iniquity and blasphemy advanced, foreshadowing doom. In 1550,
Nostradamus published the first of his annual almanacs, and he often
thought that the end was near. In 1556, a Swiss medical student at
Montpellier noted the apocalyptic prophecies making the rounds there
and elsewhere, predicting the end of the world for Magdalene's Day,
July 22 of that year. 9 Despite premonitory signs and their feverish
interpretation, nothing happened.
But prophetic and astrological forecasts were the lifeblood of
chapbooks and almanacs, the central popular interest of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, and coincidence could easily highlight
their sensationalism. The fame of Nostradamus, for one, never faded,
and his predictions of distinguished deaths, upheavals, wars, and
blood all over the place brought grist to almanac-makers' mills. For
1559-, to take just one example, Nostradamus predicted "death, ruin,
affliction and banishment of the enemies of Christ's church.'*' That
year King Henri II of France was killed and his son, Francis II, would
die in 1560. In 1559, also, Elizabeth was crowned queen of England
John Knox returned to Scotland, and the Protestant Lords of the
Congregation began to destroy religious houses in their land. The
situation was too fluid for comfort, let alone for celestial
intervention. Yet celestial phenomena lent themselves to
prognostication. Solar or lunar eclipses were visible in Shakespeare's
England virtually every other year; and contemporaries knew what they
meant from the portents preceding Julius Caesar's death: