The Waldensian Church in the valleys of Piedmont/Introductory Notice
INTRODUCTORY NOTICE.
Country of the Waldenses—its climate, productions, and the character of its inhabitants.
TO read the history of a country, without having first become acquainted with its geographical position and local characteristics, is some thing like travelling through it in a railway carriage. Cities, rivers, and battle-fields pass by us in bewildering rapidity, and the memory retains little else than the names which are repeated at every station of temporary halt.
Speed and distance, however, not being the object of our ambition, which is to form intelligent, rather than extensive travellers, we shall commence our history of the Waldensian Church[1] with a short account of the Vaudois country—such preparatory information being especially needed where, as in the locality we would describe, the aspect of nature is so illustrative of the events with which it is associated.
Few travellers can explore these Alpine mountains, or thread the narrow defiles of their struggling torrents, with out perceiving how wonderfully the magnificent theatre is adapted to the scenes of heroism and suffering which have been acted on it. Surely, all who visit this country must acknowledge with its native historian,[2] that “the Eternal, our God who has destined it as the theatre of His wonders, and the asylum of His ark, has astonishingly and naturally fortified it,” and that no other could offer such facilities for defence and retreat—or, alas, for cruelty and outrage; and what else for centuries was the lot of this faithful and persecuted people!
But let it not occasion surprise to our young or less informed readers, to learn that this land of faithful witnesses and high destiny, occupies no political position, amid the nations of Europe that it has no navigable rivers, no golden mines, no commerce or wealth; since it is the will of the Almighty thus to choose “the weak things of the world to confound the wise.” What unassisted eye, even in the clearest night of frosty winter, can discern, amid the thousand suns that burn on high, such inferior planets as that on which man has his habitation? Yet to redeem one of the least of these, the Son of God expired on the cross. And thus, in her lowliness and her sufferings, has He ever owned and supported His little Church in the valleys of Piedmont and thus, if her people fall not away from the faith so long maintained by their forefathers, He will continue to uphold her until He exchanges her martyr palm for a crown of imperishable glory. Let us now spread open the map of Europe, and search diligently amid the lower range of the Cottian Alps for the rocky dwelling-place of “the men of the valleys.” We shall find it on the Italian side of the giant wall which rises between France and Italy. Their territory, though once of wider extent, including the valleys of the Clusone and Pragela, and stretching into the plain, is now shut within the three narrow valleys of Luserna, or Pellice,—with its two branches Angrogna and Rorà, San Martino, and Perosa. It is about twenty miles in length, and not more than eighteen in its broadest parts, and contains about twenty-two thousand inhabitants.
It is bounded on the north and south by Monte Viso and Mont Genèvre, on the west by the Cols de Julien and La Croix, and on the east by the fertile plains of Piedmont; these last, with the rocky eminence of Mount Cavour in the centre, and the ocean-like vapour with which they are usually overspread, add a beautiful but deceptive finish to the view.
The scenery of these Waldensian valleys possesses features both of Swiss and Italian beauty. Amongst the former, we may class the snowy points of the distant mountains, the nearer and overhanging rocks, the clear streams, and bright herbage; whilst to Italy belong the twice-budding mulberry tree, yielding its crop of summer foliage to supply growth and strength to the silk-worms, that weave those countless multitudes of golden cocoons which are the chief riches of the Vaudois peasant. The gadding vine, too, is Italian, for here, neither clipped nor trammeled, it twines its branches round trees planted at intervals for its support, and meets in graceful festoons in the centre, hanging its pendent fruit over a soil yielding rich crops of maize and waving corn The brilliant hues of the skies, and the bright fireflies, are all Italian, and so is the soft relaxing climate, which, whilst it inspires an ardent longing to breathe the mountain air, incapacitates the traveller for the exertion necessary to scale paths, for the most part too steep and rugged even for the sure-footed mule. The native historian, Léger, speaks with natural warmth of the productions of his country—of its majestic eagles, its wild goats, and mountain chamois, the hunting of which is still pursued with avidity, and the flesh eaten with relish. We have often met the returning hunting party, and seen the once beautiful creature laid lifeless across the successful huntsman’s shoulder. Of the flower-hunt we can better share the historian’s enthusiasm, and join con amore in his admiration of the beauty of these Vaudois blossoms, although we have not tested the wonderful medicinal and meteorological properties which he affirms they possess. It has not, for instance, been our good fortune to find a certain thistle which he warrants to be “a delicious food and ravishing sweetmeat, an infallible barometer, and excellent antidote to the plague!”
The Vaudois cling with affectionate tenacity to their native soil, even where it is barest and bleakest, and the mountaineer is to be found on the most uninviting heights earning a scanty and precarious livelihood, content if his rood of ground and his summer toil furnish him and his family with a frugal subsistence. In the higher latitudes, unable to procure a sufficiency of fuel, the inhabitants live under the same roof with their cattle—this animal warmth during the severity of an Alpine winter alone enabling them to support the extreme cold of these mountain regions.
The population of the valleys is between twenty and twenty-five thousand. Twenty hours would suffice a good walker to make the tour of the three valleys; yet within these narrow limits the law confined the Vaudois until 1848; since then all Italy is theirs. The vale of Luserna is open and warm, that of San Martino cold and barren, whilst the valley of Perosa partakes of the nature of both.
The cultivation of the fields, including rye, barley, oats, potatoes, cabbage, turnips, French beans, and hemp, and also the care of cattle, is nearly all the occupation of the Vaudois in the mountain parishes; on the lower ground, where the vine, maize, and mulberry tree are found, wine and the cocoons of the silk- worm employ their chief labours. This applies, however, only to the summer; the winter, in proportion as one ascends, is of five, six, or even eight months duration, and during this time the women assemble to spin, but there is very little to be done out of doors. The manufactures are nothing; there are silk factories, indeed, but these do not employ the Waldenses so much as strangers who have been attracted to the valleys by them; there are many drawbacks in them, and they are not conducive to health or morals. A number of the young people quit the valleys, where there is not space enough to find employment for them, and go to various parts of the Continent, and to Great Britain, where the young women are valued in the nursery and the school-room.
Though there has been a great improvement in the out ward condition of the Vaudois during the last thirty years, their habitations are still miserable enough; and diseases consequent on imperfect nourishment are sometimes prevalent; while the visitor is often distressed by the frequent sight of goitre, even among young women whose appearance otherwise would be most pleasing.
The state of the Vaudois is not now so much like their music, of the “ton mineur et pitoyable,” as formerly, but there is still something to be done to add to their comfort and prosperity.
The establishment of the orphanage[3] has had an excellent influence spiritually and socially; for the number of orphans is great, and many are brought under the valuable teaching and training of Mdlle. Marie Sircoulon. There is a hospital at Torre Pellice, due to the exertions of Madame Geymet, who, in spite of discouragements, determined to pursue the plan she had formed, saying, “An acorn is not an oak; I will plant one in the earth; and God, who giveth growth to the oak, will prosper my undertaking.” And Madame Geymet’s acorn, with God’s blessing, did become a sheltering tree for the afflicted Waldenses, who still find healing in its leaves. The hospital was for many years the object of great attention and sacrifices on the part of General Beckwith. A second has been established at Pomaret, not quite so large at that at Torre Pellice. [4]
There is some provision for the poor in each parish, and gifts are annually received from Holland for the same object.
It might naturally be supposed that such a life of toil, such fare, such lodging would sink the man to the level of the beast with whom he herds; but it is not so. Whether it be owing to an elevation of mind induced by the nobler features of nature around, to their isolated situation, or to the purity of their belief, nowhere will you meet with kindlier manners or more gentle breeding. Be it on the highest mountain or in the most sequestered vale, the traveller is sure of safety and of welcome. Should he be inclined for further acquaintanceship, he will meet all alike ready to welcome him into their cabins or to guide him on his way. He will find the inhabitants of this remote solitude by no means inferior to the rest of the civilized world in general intelligence; whilst their peculiar situation, and the long endurance of oppression to which they have been inured, give a sad but interesting colouring to their conversation as it respects their present prospects. But mention the deeds of their forefathers, talk of all they endured and effected, and the eye of the Vaudois peasant will kindle, and he will expatiate, in all the eloquence of his southern tongue, on their heroic constancy and the holy cause for which they fought. But though it must be conceded that it is difficult to rouse them to express an equal interest in what concerns the present or the future, let not this apparent apathy either discourage or displease those who would seek to benefit them. Let the traveller, even though he be of the energetic race of the Anglo-Saxon, call to mind how long the Vaudois has been chained and trampled on that he lives as it were in the cemetery of his martyred race, “where there is not a rock that is not a monument, not a meadow that has not seen an execution, not a village that does not register its martyrs.”[5]
“I dare not read the history of our persecutions and oppressions,” said a lady of La Torre to the writer; “it would make me hate our enemies; and our religion teaches us to love and pray for them.”
Neither are the men of the valleys behind in their appreciation of the value of education; on the contrary, they set an excellent example in the sacrifices they often make to obtain it. We could tell our English school-boys, who are sent to their studies with every luxury that tender parents and ingenious friends can purchase, of the efforts made and the hardships endured to secure this highly-prized advantage. We know those who are ornaments to their pastoral and literary professions, whose studies have been carried on under such severe bodily privation and bodily exertion, as would crush the energies of a common mind, and damp the ardour of a less determined aspiration. We reckon amongst our own friends those who, in the midst of academic courses, have been obliged to bear on their shoulders, down the steep mountain side, a daily load of fagots for sale in the valley beneath, panting from pain and exhaustion as they bowed under the oppressive load. We have known those, too, who, despatched in the early morning from their Alpine cabin with one slice of bread, and that a liberal share of the family provision, have gained a portion of the richer students luxuries of saucissons or apples by assisting them in their exercises. Nor are the sacrifices of the parents less self-denying. To procure the advantages of education for their sons, they sometimes sell their little farms in the distant valleys—a patrimony as highly valued by them and as nobly ancestral, judged by the worth of the possessors, as the domain of a Howard—and remove into the vicinity of La Torre, for the advantage of the valuable educational institution for which their earnest thanks are due to Dr. Gilly, who, with General Beckwith, founded it in 1828. The theological department of this college was removed to Florence in 1860; but as a Grammar School the institution is doing an excellent work, preparing those who may be found suitable to carry on their studies with a view to pastoral or missionary labour.
- ↑ It is necessary to distinguish the Vaudois or Waldensians of the Italian Alps from the people of the Pays de Vaud in Switzerland, and from the French Vaudois of the Hautes Alpes.
- ↑ Léger.
- ↑ By English friends.
- ↑ Called in French La Tour; in Italian, Torre Pellice, i.e. La Torre in Val Pellice, as the valley of Luserna is now called.
- ↑ Muston.