Do you remember Tavannes, where the idols had been broken? Since that time there had been a preacher of the gospel living there, called De Glautinis. This good man now came for a while to help Farel in a new expedition.
There was a town on the lake of Neuchâtel, where the gospel had not yet been preached. This town was Granson. Close to the town stood a large and ancient convent of gray friars. It was to this convent that Farel and his friend directed their steps. They were shown into the parlor, where the superior, Guy Regis, asked them what they wanted. “We are come,” said Farel, “to ask leave to preach in the church of the convent.” In a moment it dawned upon the superior that this was Farel. “Heretic!” he exclaimed. “Son of a Jew!” shouted another monk. And the two friends were quickly turned out of the convent gates.
The news spread like wildfire through the town that Farel was come. When he went to the second convent of Benedictines, the monks were prepared to receive him. Farel said as before, that he desired leave to preach in the church. Immediately the whole convent was in an uproar. The monks ran into the cloisters, where the two friends were waiting. One had armed himself with a pistol, another with a knife. The monk with the pistol flew upon Farel, and pointing the pistol at his head with one hand, he endeavored with the other to drag him along to the convent prison. De Glautinis rushed forward to rescue his friend, but was immediately attacked vigorously by the monk with the knife.
By this time the shouts of the angry monks had risen to such a pitch, that some friends of Farel, who were waiting outside the gate, forced their way in to see what was happening. They dragged the two preachers away, and the monks having shut and barred their gates, remained, as if besieged, for a whole fortnight. They feared another visit from Farel.
The preachers now agreed to separate for a time. De Glautinis remained at Granson, and Farel went to preach in the country round. De Glautinis had for a while a fine opportunity. As the monks were so closely shut up within their locked gates, De Glautinis preached in the streets to large crowds. The monks, headed by Guy Regis, took courage one day to rush out in a body and surround the preacher. But they dared do no more than call him names in loud and threatening voices, and assure him he should never preach in the churches. They then disappeared again behind their convent walls.
Meanwhile some Bernese lords, who were at Neuchâtel, heard how the preachers had been received at Granson. They speedily made their appearance, sent for Farel, and ordered the convent churches to be immediately thrown open for the preaching. This was according to the wish of many of the people of Granson. Crowds filled the churches to listen to the gospel.
The catholics now formed themselves into a strong party. The peaceful little town was divided. The catholics stuck fir-cones in their caps, to distinguish themselves from the gospellers, and paraded the streets to defy the lords of Berne. The magistrates took part with the catholics, and after the preaching had continued for some days, they seized the preachers, at the request of the monks, and put them in prison. They were, however, soon released, and the monks then sought help from the neighboring towns. A friar was sent from Lausanne to preach on St. John’s day, (June 24). Farel and his friend went to hear the sermon. After a while Farel stood up (as was the custom in those days) and spoke in answer to the monk. The bailiff of Granson, displeased at this interruption, struck Farel a blow. This was the signal for a general battle. The magistrates, the monks, and many of the people fell upon the preachers, beat and kicked them, and “grievously maltreated them,” as we are told.
A gospeller started off at once to tell a Bernese officer, who was then at a place called Colombier, nine miles off. The officer quickly arrived, and having called together the magistrates, he ordered that Farel and the friar should preach by turns, and that the people should quietly listen to both sides. The preaching was to begin next day.
Meanwhile a report had spread through the little town, that Farel meant to go secretly into the church, and pull down the great crucifix.
This was a story got up by some of the monks to excite the catholics. Two monks, named Tissot and Gondoz, who really believed it, thought it would be a work pleasing to God that they should murder Farel. They armed themselves with axes, which they hid under their frocks, and posted themselves in front of the great crucifix. They waited in vain for a long while. The time was almost come when the preaching was to begin. Farel had not appeared.
At last two men entered the church. The monks advanced. The men were strangers, but the monks thought by the look of them that they were heretics. “Stand back,” said one of the monks, and the other darting forward, rudely pushed the foremost man. This was the Bernese officer De Watteville, who had come, attended by his servant, to hear the preaching. “Gently,” he said to the monk, “you should not lose your temper.” But the servant, less meek than his master, flew at the monk, and caught him round the body.
He felt the axe under the monk’s frock. He seized it instantly, and was prepared to strike the monk a violent blow. His master, however, checked him. The monks fled in terror.
De Watteville now resolved in his turn, to guard the church for the gospellers. He posted his servant within the door, and told him to keep watch, whilst he pursued the monks.
The servant paced up and down, with the axe on his shoulder, and his eye fixed on the door.
After a few minutes, about thirty women suddenly entered the church, and made their way towards the gallery. Each of them held up her serge apron, and looked fiercely around. Their plan was to hide in the gallery close to the pulpit. Some had filled their aprons with mold from their gardens, others with cinders from their stoves. They had determined that as soon as Farel began to preach, they would fling the ashes into his eyes, and the mold into his mouth.
The servant surveyed this party, and then, having made up his mind that they were intent on mischief, he ran upon them, brandishing his axe. The women, who had expected to be welcomed by the friendly monks, shrieked, let go their aprons, and fled to their homes, leaving the church strewn with mold and ashes.
The lord De Watteville had meanwhile caught the two monks, Tissot and Gondoz, and they were forthwith locked in a dungeon, there to spend the next fortnight.
The preaching now began without further disturbance, and Farel and the friar were heard in turns. But it grieved Farel that the two monks could not be there. He therefore went to their dungeon, there to speak to them of the love and grace of Christ. Great was the wonder of these two poor men, when they found the heresy they had so greatly feared was the blessed story of the cross of Christ. They heard from Farel’s lips of the love of Jesus, and they found rest to their souls. They came out of their dungeons at the end of the fortnight, to go forth and tell what great things the Lord had done for them. They became afterward faithful preachers of the faith they had once blasphemed.