Claude Brousson was the name of a well-known lawyer—clever, popular, and just, who lived in the south of France about the middle of the seventeenth century. He was born in the little town of Nismes in the province of Languedoc, in the year 1647. After the study of law, and the usual examinations connected with his profession, he commenced his career as an advocate. He soon became well known as a Huguenot, for he boldly used his talents in pleading the cause of the oppressed among them. All his sympathies were on their side, and, as we shall afterward see, his life proved that he was a converted man, and loved the Saviour for whom many of the Huguenots suffered.
While pursuing his profession, he was frequently engaged in defending those with whom he was one in faith, and, on such occasions, his pleading was especially earnest and powerful.
But darker days came for this lawyer, in common with his suffering brethren. The Huguenot advocate was then obliged to give up public life for a time, and seek the quiet retreat of an ordinary citizen in his native town. While there, an attempt was made to take him prisoner, but happily for him and the suffering Huguenots, he succeeded in escaping to Switzerland. There he resumed the practice of his profession in the town of Lausanne, but only to give it up again, for the needs of his countrymen weighed heavily on his heart.
At last, leaving law altogether, Monsieur Brousson gave himself to the occupation of writing on behalf of the people whom he loved. Sometimes he addressed letters directly to them, full of sympathy and affection. At others, he wrote to Roman Catholics holding positions of power, vainly hoping to reach their hearts and consciences about the persecuted Huguenots. In other varied ways, too, did this devoted man seek to benefit those of his suffering brethren, who, like himself, had found a shelter in other lands while exiles from their own.
Although thus usefully occupied, the heart of this dear servant of God yearned with unselfish love over those he had left behind in his beloved France. To these dear ones his thoughts would often go back, and he longed to be in their midst once more. There were many who could not leave their country, but who needed there the help of one who knew their difficulties and temptations.
He thought of the weak ones who could be strengthened to stand true to Christ by suited counsel, and considered that those who were fitted to render such timely aid ought not to have remained exiles because of persecution. Therefore, carrying his thought into words and actions, he wrote to several persons entreating them to return to the suffering scattered people left behind in their native country.
Strange to say, however, there were few of those who had professed to feed the flock of God who were then prepared to do so at the risk of their lives. The work had seemed easy in times of peace, but they preferred the quiet of foreign lands to the persecutions of stormy France in those perilous days. The lawyer’s appeals were therefore by no means welcome, and one taunted him with the question: “Why do you not first return to France yourself?” These scornful words were not unheeded, for the man on whose ear they fell was willing to risk his life as truly as he had urged such a step upon others.
Claude Brousson had thought to send forth able men by words of exhortation from his pen, but he found that while few would go, God had given him the desire to go personally. What could he do? he asked himself. At least comfort and encourage, his heart could truly answer, if he could not preach. The conflicting desires in connection with these thoughts made him so ill, that some even feared he would die. But no; that brave man had other work to do, and a different end to meet.
In the midst of his illness, in which an anxious, loving wife watched over him, he startled her one day by saying, “I must set out: I will go to console, to relieve, to strengthen my brethren groaning under their oppressions.” In great distress, his wife entreated him to give up the idea for her sake, and that of his children. The dear man fondly loved both her and them, yet he loved the Lord still more, and he believed that he was divinely called to go. His friends also tried to hinder by telling him that imprisonment and death lay before him. But that courageous heart stood firm, saying only that which he believed: “When God permits His servants to die for the gospel, they preach louder from the grave than they did during life.”
Here was a pastor whom God had made, and not man. His heart desired to look after the sheep, and the chief Shepherd, of whom Peter wrote in his first Epistle (ch. 5:4), had bestowed on him the pastoral gift. The divine Giver had given both power and desire to his servant to go forth and serve the Lord by serving His people. The object of such a gift was the glory of God, and the cost of using it was nothing less than to the hazard of life itself.
Nine willing companions set out with this brave man, all fired with love and zeal. Earthly reward there was none, yet bravely they went forth to that land of persecution. Devoted hearts and lives were theirs, and they pursued their onward journey, desiring simply to do what they could. Very soon, however, the little band was thinned by the enemy’s hand, ever eager to shed the blood of the servants of Christ. Soldiers and spies tracked their steps, and some were, consequently, led from their midst to die a martyr’s death. Still Monsieur Brousson continued his self-denying course, and his labors met with much acceptance. His visits to the homes of the people were greatly prized, for there he read the scriptures, counseled and encouraged by its truths, and helped them much by prayer.
Sometimes it seemed well to gather a number of people together so as to form a large meeting. Then, greater secrecy than usual was required. Night was the most favorable time, and some hidden cave a suitable place. Very quietly was the message given from one to another, and none were told but such as were believed to be like-minded. At a given hour, under cover of the darkness, the people consequently flocked from all parts. They were compelled to shape their course very cautiously, for a number together, or many going in one direction, might have suggested to an enemy what was going on.
Certainly it was at much risk that these persecuted Huguenots thus met, even when the enemy was supposed to be asleep; yet it was great joy to their hearts to gather together, yes, even if never to see their homes again. Here and there on the trees they hung their lanterns, to give the little light which they dared to use. Around the scene of their meeting stood the sentinels, who kept both ears and eyes open to the advance of an enemy. These were usually strong young men, able to run at a moment’s notice to give warning of danger. On the appearance of the foe, the nearest watcher ran instantly to the place of meeting, and reported the fact. The answer to this alarm was the immediate scattering of the people hither and thither as fast as they could.
With such precautions, the soldiers sometimes did not reach the spot till all had quietly departed. The sentinel knew directly where to run, but the soldiers, on the contrary, had to look for the place. On some occasions, a much worse foe than the open enemy brought the soldiers in time to the spot. One would pretend to be a Huguenot, and on that ground, get information about the proposed meeting. Then, by telling it to the authorities, that hypocrite or spy was considered to have done a good deed, and deserving of reward. Imagine a happy company thus assembled, while the soldiers were on their track, knowing well both time and place. Then an awful scene usually followed. Sentinels were shot before the alarm could be given, the dragoons suddenly bursting upon the unsuspecting people, whilst the gun and the sword were most unsparingly used.
The preacher was generally the person most sought for, and, after him, as many of the hearers as could be caught. Blood was freely shed, and mercy at the hands of the persecutors was not to be thought of. Men, women, and children alike fell by the ruthless hands of the pursuers.
When no surprise took place, the people spent a happy time. They sang praises to God, and listened to the scriptures as read by the preacher, while his lessons therefrom were grateful to their ears. When all was still around, the people quietly dispersed, and the preacher walked on to another part of the country. The soldiers sometimes heard of a night meeting after it had taken place. How to find the principal man in it, was, however, a difficult task, for hours before they knew, he had been rapidly passing onward to do the same work elsewhere.