The enemies of Geneva were preparing to strike their last blow. The Emperor Charles V was up in arms. He had called upon the popish cantons of eastern Switzerland to go to the help of his brother-in-law, the Duke of Savoy. The duke could also count upon his nephew, the King of France; and all around the little city were his own Savoyard subjects, ready at any moment, when he gave the word of command, to close in upon Geneva, and take matters into their own hands, by means of sword and fire, of massacre and of pillage.
That part of Switzerland along the northern shores of the Lake of Geneva, which is now the canton of the Pays de Vaud, had been for some time back the property of the Dukes of Savoy: Lausanne, the capital of the Pays de Vaud, was, as you will remember, the stronghold of popery. On all sides were the enemies of the gospel and of Geneva—but above there was God!
It was still in vain that the ambassador of Geneva appealed to the Council of Berne. With all against them, it would seem that the little flock had none who would raise a finger in their defense; but their ambassador, Claude Savoye, bethought him of one man from whom at least he would get sympathy, though he despaired of help: this man was honest James Wildermuth.
Do you remember the old captain at Neuchâtel, who had given such a warm welcome to William Farel? To James Wildermuth did Claude Savoye betake himself.
James Wildermuth listened with grief and anger to the story of Geneva. His blood boiled when he heard that the Bernese hung back from the defense of their persecuted brethren. “If nobody else will go to the help of Geneva, I will go!” said he. “I will take my stout-hearted cousin, Ehrard of Nidan, and he and I and a handful of brave men can at least lay down our lives for the brethren, if we can do nothing else.” So the old soldier went forth to call together his little band from Neuchâtel and the villages round. About nine hundred men answered to the call,—nine hundred men, and a little handful of brave women also.
One of these women, grasping a two-handed sword, turned to her husband and three sons. “If you will not go,” she said, “I will go alone and face the Savoyards!” But the husband and sons were quite as ready to go themselves. Thus the little army set forth. At the head of it were James Wildermuth, his cousin Ehrard, and Claude Savoye.
Was this the way in which the Lord Jesus has desired His followers to defend the gospel? We, who have been taught the Bible from our youth up, have learned otherwise. But if we blame these good people for their want of light, let us be very careful that we are not far behind them in another matter. It may be we are far more wanting in love. Are we always ready to go to the help of a brother or sister?—to “spend and be spent” for the church of God? We may not be called to lay down our lives for the brethren, but are we ready to put ourselves to inconveniences, to deny ourselves, to suffer loss, for the good of God’s dear people? Let us in this matter remember that there may be a beam in our own eye, whilst we are talking about the mote in the eye of James Wildermuth.
On the other hand, it is needful to remark that the mistake made by these good people was a real and serious mistake. If a Christian man is contented to take the ground which was a right ground for an Old Testament believer, it is by no means a small error. Such a man is overlooking the value which God has set upon the mighty work done by His Son; he is overlooking the marvelous consequences of the death, the resurrection, and the ascension of the Lord Jesus Christ. He is making nothing of the wonderful fact that, as a seal to this glorious work, God the Holy Spirit has come down from heaven, that He (not swords and guns, armies and governments,) may be the power of the saints of God.
But these things were little known to the Christians of Switzerland three hundred years ago, and alas! They are too little known to the Christians of England now; so we will give but this glance at the blunders and mistakes of James Wildermuth, and thank God for that love to the brethren which filled his heart.
The little army went on their way. It was needful to choose the wild mountain paths, to avoid the Savoyard troops who were posted around Geneva in every direction. Although it was still early in October, the snow was falling fast upon those high mountains; but it seemed the only safe road, and they pressed onwards.
Soon they were overtaken by messengers from the governor of Neuchâtel. The Princess Jane, who was, you remember, the owner of the little state of Neuchâtel, was also a friend of the house of Savoy. The governor forbade the little army to go farther; they were to return at once to their homes. In vain did the officers sent by the governor command and threaten; some of the men looked perplexed, but none left their ranks.
“Comrades,” said James Wildermuth, turning to his troops, “if your courage fails you, go about your business!”
The soldiers, men and women, knelt down and asked the Lord to guide them aright. Then about half of them said that they thought it right to obey the governor and return. The rest marched on, amongst them the woman with her family.
I cannot here relate to you their many adventures. For two days they wandered on the tops of the snow-covered mountains. They were themselves heavily laden with the frozen snow. Food had they none, except that here and there they found a few cabbage-stalks and turnips in the gardens of the deserted villages. Men, women, and children had fled away at the sight of these “men in white,” and had carried their food with them.
At last, late on Saturday evening, three men came up the mountains to meet them. “We have been sent from Geneva,” they said, “to guide you by the safest road down to the valley. The duke’s soldiers are on the watch, and there is only one road by which you can avoid them.”
Wildermuth was thankful. He determined to rest one more night on the mountains, and go down to Geneva early next day; on Sunday morning, therefore, they started. They shouted with joy when, from a turn in the rocky path, they saw the towers of the gospellers’ city. At the foot of the mountains they found themselves in a deep and narrow ravine, where two men could scarcely walk abreast. On one side were the mountains, on the other a wooded bank which screened them from the village of Gingins. They were by this time faint and hungry.
“We will run to the village,” said the three guides, “and get you some food. You cannot go there yourselves without being seen by the Savoyards, but here you are safe.”
The three guides then went straight to the Savoyard general, at the castle of Gingins, and told him how well their trick had answered. They had landed the Swiss in the trap in which they were to be caught by the Savoyard army. Immediately the general called out his men: four or five thousand were ready to march. The first division, of about 1500 well trained soldiers and a number of priests, were speedily at the mouth of the ravine. The brave old captain now saw into whose hands he had fallen. He rushed forward with his little band. They dealt their blows right and left, using their muskets as clubs, for they had no time for reloading. The priests caught the eye of Wildermuth. He thought of Elijah and the priests of Baal. The Savoyards knew not what to make of their desperate enemies; even the woman with her sword made a fearful slaughter. The fearful din, the echo of the guns, and the shouts of the Swiss were heard far away. The Savoyards held out for a while, then they turned and fled in wild confusion. One hundred priests were left dead upon the field. A second battalion had come up to the rescue, but they too fled before the victorious Swiss. Many hundreds, some say 2000 Savoyards, were slaughtered; the Swiss had lost but seven men and one woman. One of these men was the husband of the brave woman who had fought so desperately; the three sons were wounded.
Claude Savoye was not in this battle. On Saturday evening a message had come to him from a friend who was staying with the governor of the Pays de Vaud, at the castle of Coppet, not far from Gingins. This friend had sent word that two Bernese officers had just arrived at Coppet. The Council of Berne had heard of Wildermuth’s expedition, and these two officers had been sent instantly to Coppet to endeavor to make terms with the governor, and prevent a battle. It was needful, Claude Savoye thought, that he should be there to see that no hindrances were put in the way of Wildermuth. He had at once set off, in the snow and the darkness, to the castle of Coppet. The governor was only too glad to have caught one of the Huguenots, and Claude Savoye was speedily locked up. Very soon on the Sunday morning the Bernese officers were startled by the sound of musketry.
The battle had begun. But the governor, knowing that the Swiss were but a handful of men, was only anxious to gain time for the Savoyards to demolish them completely. He kept back the Bernese, who were anxious to find out what was happening. He was obliged to hear mass and have his breakfast before he could possibly attend to anything else. At last, thinking all must be well over, he set out with the Bernese, riding Claude Savoye’s horse, and leading his prisoner mounted on a donkey. He thought, by this means, more thoroughly to humble the defeated Swiss. But great was his horror and astonishment to meet the terrified Savoyards flying for their lives. All they could tell him was that the Swiss were behind them, and that nobody could stand against them. The governor quickly returned to the castle of Coppet. James Wildermuth and his soldiers knelt upon the field of battle, to thank God for their deliverance.
Meanwhile the tidings of the battle had reached the city of Geneva; it was rumored that the little Swiss army was hemmed in on all sides by the Savoyards, and would be cut in pieces to a man. You can well believe that our friend Baudichon was at once up and doing. At the head of about 1000 men, he marched instantly in the direction of Gingins.
The two Bernese ambassadors had proceeded from Coppet to the field of battle; they commanded the Swiss to return home. They had been sent to make peace, they said, between the two parties. There must be no more fighting; besides, it would be useless to fight more: such a handful of men could do nothing in the long run against the great number of Savoyards.
“As to the Savoyards,” replied the Swiss, “they are too much scared to know what they are about, and it is no use to talk about them.”
The Bernese were perplexed. To gain time, they proposed to the hungry Swiss to go to the village of Founez, hard by, and get something to eat. Here they supplied them plentifully with “meat and drink.” The ambassadors then returned to Coppet, where they, too, were soon busily employed in “eating, drinking, and banqueting.” Claude Savoye and his donkey disappeared; but how he managed to escape we are not informed. It is only mentioned that he was “miraculously delivered from his enemies.”
But the Bernese lords were suddenly startled by the news that Baudichon and his army were almost at the gates of Coppet. If he once joined his forces with those of Wildermuth, all would be up with the Savoyards. The governor saw his danger. He sent some gentlemen to meet Baudichon, and to desire that three of his officers should come at once to the castle. He and the Bernese, he said, had made terms of peace very favorable to Geneva. This peace needed but to be signed by all parties. Baudichon, brave and honest as he was, suspected nothing. Three Huguenot citizens went at once to the castle; the governor put them in a boat, tied up hand and foot, and sent them off to the strong Castle of Chillon.
Baudichon waited in vain for the return of his friends. At last came a message to say that the peace was concluded, that the three citizens were only waiting till the papers were ready for their signature, and that in the meantime the best thing Baudichon could do would be to return to Geneva and tell the good news. Baudichon returned. The governor then sent the same message to Wildermuth; and the honest man, who believed in the good faith of his enemies, now thought it right to obey the orders of Berne and return home.
By the 1st of November, Geneva was blockaded by the armies of Savoy. The villages around were plundered and burnt. The distress in the city was terrible; food and fuel were scarcely to be had. The vestments and altar-cloths were taken from the churches, and cut up into clothes for the poor.