Her sister Emma, who was now at the head of the Training School at the Congress Hall, wrote: "What can be said at such times compared with what is felt? I will not attempt to write. I am praying. All hearts here hold you up ceaselessly—your example is before us! In the night and the day I am with you—in your sorrow I find your joy in what is to come out of all. 'They know not what they do,' and out of their very efforts to hinder and stop God's work shall it spread beyond restraint. The loss is great, my precious sister, but the reward will be infinitely greater, and in both you will have been allowed to share. It would have been easier to be with you, but I'll fight harder than ever in my corner here. Filled with deepest sympathy and yearning desire for His kingdom to come in Switzerland! Devotedly, Emma. PS. It is your back I most tremble for—your poor back! I wonder if you have pillows. Bless your dear little Pattie [Miss Patrick]. Oh, each moment I am with you! JESUS is—He does love and choose and will honour you!"
Among those who wrote to the prisoner was George Railton,[1] whom she regarded almost as an elder brother. He had lived with the family during her childhood, and when she was a girl of twelve and onwards she used to get up at six in the morning—slipping downstairs on her bare feet in order not to awaken mother—to have a Bible lesson with him. She always regarded the talks in those morning hours as among the great formative influences in her life. Railton, who became the General's first commissioner, watched her career with profound and affectionate interest. He wrote on September 25: "Dear Maréchale Prisoner, I have just come from that tremendous prayer meeting [in Exeter Hall, held as a protest against her imprisonment], one of the biggest and best this world has ever seen.... The way the volleys burst out at the right time and went ringing all round the Hall sounded splendid. And the sight of thousands standing up to give themselves to God, hundreds and hundreds for foreign service, and all for service somewhere, was magnificent.... My impression is that as they [the Swiss] have outraged law all along they may very likely do it when it comes to sentence.... God only knows what is coming next, but anyhow we shall win."
[1] Since these pages were written, this remarkable man has died—as he wished—with his armour on, and been "promoted to glory."
Towards the end of her imprisonment Catherine wrote: "God will open the door for us through this storm. My will is God's. All I want is to accomplish His desire for the world. Do not worry at all. Jesus is here. There is such wonderful victory ahead that all my cry is, Lord, make us equal to it!—ready in every way! Ever fighting, in jail as well as on the field, following on to know Him. I have been looking at that wonderful sight—Calvary. I must ever live in sight of it."
The trial took place at Boudry on Saturday the 25th and Monday the 27th September. It excited the greatest interest in Switzerland and far beyond it. The Journal de Genève said: "This prosecution at Boudry has an immense political significance in the highest sense of that word, and the decision, whatever it may be, will take its place in the history of Republican rights." Even the most sanguine scarcely hoped for the acquittal of the accused. But the unexpected happened, and the triumph of righteousness was a woman's triumph.
The Public Prosecutor spent much time in proving that Salvationists were mountebanks and fanatics. A young Englishwoman had flung an insult in the face of the Grand Council, accusing them of violating the constitution. Her contempt for the law was the more surprising as the English never rebel against the law, however unjust it may be (!). If the Armée du Salut was not suppressed they would have to enlarge their asylums. Christ, who was, perhaps, the most religious man who ever lived, favoured private rather than public prayer. Silent communion with God was better than getting up and shouting "I am saved!" While the accused placed herself above the law, the Queen of England was obliged to submit to Acts of Parliament. Having not only ignored, but deliberately violated the decree, the Salutistes must bear the consequences, and no doubt they would be happy to receive the crown of martyrdom!
On the second day of the trial, after a speech in the defence by M. Monnier, the Maréchale rose to plead her own cause. Though she had passed twelve days in prison, and sat many hours in the suffocating atmosphere of a crowded court-house, she overcame her exhaustion, her spirit subduing the frail body. She had been accustomed to face great crowds since she was sixteen, and she was never more completely master of herself or her audience than she was in that critical hour. Her voice was never clearer, nor her manner more commanding. Her brother Herbert, who was in the court, said he was amazed at her power. As she pleaded the cause of religious liberty, her hearers felt that she had not come to be judged but for judgment upon them all. Some extracts will serve to indicate the quality of her speech.
"What is the need of the Armée du Salut? Allow me to read a passage from one of your own journals: 'Cantonal Governments will see with alarm the flood of demoralisation rising menacingly higher and higher; and instead of seeking to destroy the causes of this deluge, they only take away the remaining dams.' It is needless to enlarge on the necessity for an Armée du Salut in the face of these facts.
"The Prosecutor has said, in speaking of the work, that it moved the entire population, and that there must be a cause for this. He has reason to say so. I agree with him; there must be a cause, far deeper than any that has been mentioned here to-day. It is at this cause that we strike—which exists in the heart of man.
"As to our aim, we are trying to bring these people who outrage your laws, who fight against God, to the feet of Him who alone can change them, to the only hope that exists for them, the Saviour of the world. We work, we live, we suffer to do this. This is our one hope and object—to bring the world to the great Deliverer, Jesus Christ.