WE have seen wave after wave of persecution break with desolating force over the valleys of the Vaudois. Each succeeding shock has seemed only more calamitous than the last. One, more terrible than all, has yet to be noticed, which swept this devoted people from their beloved valleys, and forced them to find an asylum in a foreign land. But as the darkest moment of the night is that which just precedes the dawn, so the darkest moment of Waldensian history is that which almost heralds in the glorious dawn of their deliverance. We must briefly notice the events which led up to this last and greatest sorrow of the Vaudois.
Hardly had Protestant Europe recovered from the shock occasioned by the tidings of the last great massacre of the Vaudois, before it was again startled by rumors that the same cruelties were again to be enacted. This time, however, the tempest approached from another quarter-the north of the Alps: from Louis XIV. of France, the Grand Monarch, as the age obsequiously styled him.
It was the year 1685. The grand Monarch, all great and powerful as he was, could not stave off one moment the hour of his death, which he knew was fast approaching. A good Catholic was Louis XIV. as well as a magnificent monarch; and now in view of the grave and its hereafter, he inquired of his confessor how best he might atone for past sins, and at the same time confer a large and lasting blessing on the Holy Catholic Church. The answer was ready. No grander, no better, and no more pious work could he discharge than the utter extirpation of Protestantism from France. And this he determined to do.
But the thoughtful advisers of Louis saw no reason why this good work should not be extended beyond the limits of France, even to the province of Piedmont; so that while the Huguenots were being dealt with in France the Waldenses might not be neglected in the Alps. Accordingly, the French king addressed a letter to the Duke of Savoy, requesting that he would purge the Valleys of the heretics, as he intended doing in France; adding, that if troops were needed, he would provide an army of 14,000 men. The young duke Victor Amadeus, was at this moment on more than usually good terms with his subjects, and was in no humor to unsheathe his sword against them, especially at the dictate of a foreign prince, so he deigned no reply. The request was repeated, accompanied by a hint from the potent Louis that if he did not care for the business, he would do it for him, and keep the Valleys for his pains. This was sufficient. A treaty was entered into by which the French king promised an armed force to enable the Duke to compel the Vaudois to return to the Romish faith, or to exterminate them.
No sooner was this treaty concluded than an edict was sent throughout the Valleys which enforced conditions alike cruel, unreasonable, and unrighteous. The terms of this edict were at once an open violation of liberties long held sacred by the Vaudois. Their rights as peaceful, law-abiding subjects were ignored; and solemn treaties made in the past, and lately ratified, were disregarded. Under the penalty of war, confiscation of their lands, banishment, exile, and even death, the Waldenses were to abandon their faith, dismiss their pastors, attend mass, permit their children to be sent to monasteries and convents, and, in short, to yield everything that they held more precious than their lives.
Once more consternation filled the valleys. Never had the immediate future looked so dark; for now it was not only the revenge of the Duke they had to fear, but the wrath and power of the French king.
To tell of all that followed would be but to repeat what, in the course of this history, we have so frequently described. Suffice it, then, that in spite of a solemn remonstrance from his subjects the Duke of Savoy united his troops with those of the King of France, and in a brief interval an army of 20,000 disciplined soldiers were seen advancing towards the mountains. Prodigies of valor were performed by the Vaudois in repelling this great host; and at many points they were amazingly successful. But where arms failed, treachery served as well, and, alas, but too well. For some reason never satisfactorily explained, the Vaudois suddenly laid down their arms at discretion. Instead, however, of the Duke granting an honorable peace, a general massacre ensued. Again the rocks echoed with the shout of the assassin, and the cry of his victim. Every horror that had marked the great massacre of 1655 was repeated, and even surpassed. But the Valleys were to be purged, the pest of heresy rooted out. How was this to be effected? Thousands of the heretics had been slain, but still thousands remained; and the assassins were wearying of the slaughter. Sorrow upon sorrow, woe upon woe, had been long the lot of this afflicted people. Yet another more crushing, more heart-breaking than all was still to befal them. A decree from the Duke arrived, ordering all the remaining inhabitants to be transported as prisoners from the Valleys, and immured in the various fortresses and dungeons of Turin. And this was done. From 12,000 to 15,000 men, women, and children were hurried away from their native Valleys, few ever to return. Treated with the greatest hardships, deprived of all but subsistence, thrust into noisome damp cells, without light, without air, a short year was sufficient to reduce this number to a miserable remnant of 3,000. " When they entered these dungeons, " says Henri Arnaud, " they counted, 14,000 healthy mountaineers, but when, at the intercession of the Swiss deputies, their prisons were opened, 3,000 skeletons only crawled out. "
And were these poor sufferers permitted to return again to their Valleys in peace 2 Alas, no. They were released from prison only to be driven into hopeless exile. And how, and when? Across the snowy ice-bound passes of the Alps, and in the depth of winter, when the snow is piled to a fearful depth, and daily tern-pests threaten with certain death the too adventurous traveler. With hearts as cold as the frozen elements around, their wretched persecutors compelled the miserable remnant of the Vaudois to undertake this perilous journey into Switzerland, knowing full well that it must prove fatal to nearly all. We will not depict the horrors of the frightful passage. Overtaken by storms, or rendered helpless with the intense cold, numbers fell never to rise again.
After three weeks of unspeakable suffering, the first band reached Geneva; but it was not until February, 1687, that the last survivors, weak, emaciated, and wayworn, entered the hospitable streets of the great Protestant city. Here did those poor pilgrims find an asylum, indeed! Welcomed, clothed, and befriended by their Genevan brethren, never, in their after days of prosperity, did the Vaudois forget the hand stretched forth to help in their greatest hour of need.
Three years pass away, during which the poor exiles, nestled, as it were, in the bosom of the Genevan Church, rest in peace. But keenly they felt they were exiles, and many a longing look did they cast towards the mountains, behind which lay their much-loved native Valleys. An unspeakable yearning seized them to return, and every day this desire grew stronger. Associated with this longing was the conviction that it was their duty to return and establish again the ark of testimony, violated and overthrown by the enemies of God's truth. At length the desire grew into a fixed resolve to return and, although it seemed but a forlorn hope, and insuperable difficulties lay before them, the Vaudois, leaving the issue with God, now actually made the perilous attempt.
The story of this strange expedition, so daringly conceived, and so successfully carried. through, is perhaps without a parallel in history; so successful, indeed, that there remains no doubt the same hand which led Israel of old into their rest, also led this poor feeble remant of the Vaudois into theirs.
It was on the evening of the 16th of August, 1689, that, all preparations having been secretly completed, the returning exiles, numbering 800 souls in all, started on their perilous journey. As on many a previous crisis, a distinguished man arose to lead them. Brave, intelligent, and with great decision of character, Henri Arnaud was just the man to head this forlorn hope. A pastor, too, he was of decided piety; his confidence in God going hand in hand with his ardent patriotism and devotion to the people.
Crossing Lake Leman by night, this little band arrived on the southern shore, and began a long and dangerous march through a country covered with foes. Before them rose the great snow-clad mountains over which they had to pass. But the sight only made their hearts beat higher, and their steps hasten he faster; for behind those snowy peaks lay the goal of all their hopes. The strange adventures, the hair-breadth escapes, the privations, the alternating feelings of hope and suspense, the courage, daring, and endurance, and finally the complete success that crowned this famous enterprise, have all been faithfully recorded in a work written by Henri Arnaud himself, called " La Rentree Glorieuse, " or " The glorious return of the Vaudois to their Valleys," to which, space compels us reluctantly to refer the reader.
With the establishment of the Waldenses once more in their native Valleys, begins the bright side of their history. Persecutions after this, though not altogether unknown, were of a more moderate character. Their Valleys became quickly repeopled; their villages rose again from the dust; and sounds of toil and industry awoke once more the quiet vales. Their vineyards thrived; their harvests were blessed: so peace and contentment reigned. Churches and schools were rebuilt. The voice of praise and prayer again resounded through the vales. " Weeping " says the Psalmist, " may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. " Now had come the morning of joy for this long suffering people.
The subsequent history of the Waldenses may be told in a few words. From the period at which our story closes, the Vaudois Church has continued in the Valleys of Piedmont, never yielding either to the threats or promises of Rome, but abiding by, and ever clinging to that pure faith which their forefathers died in maintaining, and to which they still set a value more precious than their lives.
Courtesy of BibleTruthPublishers.com. Most likely this text has not been proofread. Any suggestions for spelling or punctuation corrections would be warmly received. Please email them to: BTPmail@bibletruthpublishers.com.