John Durie's name is further connected with the earliest intelligence conveyed to England, respecting the persecutions of the Piedmontese Protestants by the Duke of Savoy. On the 24th of February, 1655, he wrote from the pleasantly-situated town of Aarau, in Switzerland, to Mr. Pell, informing him that the Lords of Zurich had been entreating help on behalf of their brethren in Piedmont, who were now commanded either to go to mass, or to leave their native hills.[545] Just one month before this letter was written, an edict had been issued to that effect, in consequence of tumults which had disturbed the peaceful valleys, and which had arisen out of the propagandist labours of certain Capuchin friars. The zeal of the proselyting Roman Catholic had come into collision with the zeal of the primitive Vaudois. Assassinations and abductions had been added to arguments on the one side; natural indignation against such violence had arisen on the other. Savoyard troops troubled and oppressed the peasantry; the peasantry resisted the Savoyard troops; war was blazing in the green glens under the snowy hills. Then came the edict of expatriation, terrible as death to those mountaineers, who clung to the land of their fathers' sepulchres as fondly and closely as the pine trees cling to the rocks on which they grow. Totally unprepared for travelling, the peasantry received orders to depart from their native country within the space of twenty days. They were now obliged to desert their village homesteads, and make rude encampments upon heights in the neighbourhood. On the 21st of April, the sufferers wrote to the French ambassador, declaring that they were, at last, forced to take up arms in self-defence, against enemies who came to burn their houses; that never had they entertained an idea of rebelling against their royal master, the Duke of Savoy; nay, that they were ready to change their weapons "into mattocks" if he would but place them in their former condition. They referred to Roman Catholics in the vicinity as witnesses of their wrongs. They challenged investigation. They begged for mediators. They would leave all in their hands.[546] On the very day these brave and pious people thus appealed to France, Pell, in the city of Geneva, was watching the movements of Savoy, and he intimated to Secretary Thurloe that a massacre was in the wind—that the Duke took counsel from those who, under the pretence of propagating Christian faith, minded nothing so much as the advancement of the Pope's interest. Before he sealed his letter, the diplomatist added, that the Canton of Berne had sent to the Lords of Zurich, to signify that the Duke with his army was certainly descending upon the poor Protestants, so that it would be a wonder if they were not utterly destroyed before any one could come to their help. Direct intelligence of the horrid cruelties perpetrated upon the Vaudois was dispatched by Pell to Thurloe the last day of April; and upon the 8th of May following, Thurloe thus wrote to Pell:—"I do assure you it is a matter which his Highness lays very much to heart, and will rejoice to hear that other Protestants do think themselves concerned in it also. And I do not doubt but you and Mr. Durie will also contribute your utmost endeavours to make the Protestants in those parts sensible of this horrid action, and to get a true measure of their intentions about it, and to certify them hither by the first opportunity."[547]
The lion was roused; and from Cromwell's Council Chamber there went forth in that month of May such letters to foreign powers as have been rarely read—being filled with Cromwell's decision and Milton's eloquence, and with the Protestant anger which was fiercely burning in the hearts of both. Religion, and hatred of the hellish wrongs committed in its name, then stirred the government of England, and lifted her foreign diplomacy into a region far loftier than that which comes within the range of vulgar and selfish politics. Despatches—which, for their spirit, argument, and language an Englishman may be proud to read—were sent to Louis XIV., to the Duke of Savoy, to the Prince of Transylvania, to Gustavus Adolphus, to the United States of Holland, to the evangelic cities of Switzerland, to the King of Denmark, and to the Consul and Senators of Geneva. All these letters may be found in Milton's prose works; and let not the unmistakeable threat of something beyond words of indignation be overlooked in these missives. The threat did more than anything else to stop the bloodshed, and prevent its recurrence; only the wily power of France played its part of mediatorship so quickly and so cunningly, as to settle the business upon terms far less just than the Lord Protector would have exacted, had the winding up of the affair fallen into his vigorous hands.
Cromwell's Interference.
Cromwell dispatched Sir Samuel Morland as ambassador to the Duke of Savoy, and put in his possession the following speech, prepared by the same pen as that which wrote those magnificent letters:—"My most serene master, Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland, has sent me to your Royal Highness, to whom he bids all health, life, and a long and prosperous reign, which he trusts you may enjoy, amid the greetings and good wishes of a hearty and well-affected people. He is encouraged to hope this by merits of your own—regarding the noble disposition of your Royal Highness—your birth, the high expectation formed of you, no less than the old historical amity existing between the old Kings of this realm and the House of Savoy, which he calls to mind. My most serene and good master it has pleased, to send me on a mission of importance, though I am but a youth, unripe and unpractised, yet devoted to your Royal Highness, and a hearty friend to the interests of Italy. King Crœsus, according to the old story, had a son who was born dumb, yet he, the moment he saw a soldier aiming a wound at his father, recovered his tongue. Even so it is with me. My tongue this day is unloosed by those cruel wounds dealt at our mother, the Church—unloosed to plead a cause on which the safety and all the hopes of many turn, trusting, as they do, by loyalty, obedience, and lowliest prayers, to pacify the heart of your Royal Highness, now turned against them. In the cause of these distressed people—if even pity may improve their plight—his Highness, the Protector of England, comes forward as a suitor, and earnestly prays and beseeches your Royal Highness to vouchsafe to grant mercy to these poor and exiled subjects, who, dwelling at the roots of the Alps, in certain vales under your rule, have given their name to the religion of Protestants. He has heard a fact—no one will dare to say it was done by consent of your Royal Highness—that these wretched people have been, some of them, cruelly slaughtered by your troops—some of them driven out by force, thrust out from their dwelling-place and country, homeless, houseless, penniless, utterly destitute, have gone over rough and inhospitable tracts, over hills heaped high with snow—gone as vagrants with their wives and children. If there be any truth in the report everywhere heard—would, indeed, it were a false report!—what deed of horror was not done, or unattempted in those days. Everywhere was the sight of smoking houses, mutilated limbs, and the earth reeking with blood, nay, maidens expired in wretched agony, after being atrociously violated—even the aged and the sick were burnt with fire, infants were dashed on the rocks, and the brains of others cooked and eaten,—horrible wickedness, and unheard of before cruelty. O good God! such as the heroes of all times and ages, if they were to come to life this very day, would have been ashamed of, seeing that they had never invented aught so inhuman. Nay, even angels shudder, mortals are amazed, the very heaven itself seems astonished at these outcries, and the earth blushes at the blood of so many innocent persons overspreading it. Do not thou, O God, Most High!—do not thou require the vengeance due to this deed! Wash out, O Christ! with Thy blood this stain. Nay, I will not tell them in order, nor dwell longer on these details; and what my serene master asks, you will better learn from his letters."[548]
Several ministers of the City of London waited upon the Protector to solicit his sympathy and assistance on behalf of the sufferers, for which request he thanked them, and declared that he was extremely shocked at the tidings which he had received. He afterwards assured the Dutch ambassador that he was moved to his very soul by all he had heard—that he was ready to venture his all for the protection of Protestantism—that in this cause he would swim or perish—and that the example of Ireland was fresh in his memory, where he said 200,000 souls had been inhumanly massacred.[549]
Collections for the Sufferers.
By the end of June, 1655, collections were on foot throughout England; and even the French ambassador was not exempted from contributing to the fund, although, he says, he had as much need of charity as the Piedmontese. A few days later, the same gentleman wrote home declaring, that the gatherings amounted to a vast sum, for everybody gave something, to seem charitable, and the ministers "played their parts to some purpose to stir the people up to assist their persecuted brethren."[550] How the clergy in Genevan cloaks, with hour-glasses by their side, thundered forth anathemas against Rome, and appealed to the hearts and purses of their crowded congregations in those summer weeks, can be readily imagined; and that the appeals were followed by great success the Dutch ambassador indicates when, writing to the States General on the 16th of July, he says: "Several persons have assured me that the collection doth amount to above £100,000."[551]
Proceedings of the Committee.
A committee was formed by order of his Highness and the Council, to superintend the business involved in this enterprise of beneficence, and the members of that committee appear to have diligently discharged their duties; for they collected information respecting the whole subject, they corresponded with the sufferers, they consulted as to the best methods of relief, and they bestowed much time and thought upon the appropriation of the money, minute accounts of it being kept, and carefully audited from time to time.[552] In the month of June we find them resolving to prepare a narrative of events, to be accompanied by letters patent for making collections through the medium of ministers and churchwardens, both publicly and from house to house,—each contributor being requested to write down his name with the amount of his donation, and each parish to return an accurate schedule of subscriptions. When some of the money had been distributed to meet immediate necessities, the committee further resolved in the following January to request his Highness to take into consideration how the poor Piedmontese Protestants were to be provided for in the future—because the residue of the money raised would be in time exhausted, and then they would be left in a lingering condition, if their security and their subsistence were not provided for in some other way. A paper, laid before them by Morland the same month, suggested—forasmuch as letters from Geneva and other places recently received, had informed them of the roads to the valleys being stopped up by an abundance of snow, and as, in all probability, the inhabitants were in great extremities, and the remittances last sent were exhausted—that his Highness and the Council would be graciously pleased to consider what sum should be forwarded for their relief. In a letter from Geneva, dated the 14th of February, 1657, it is related—"our poor people are in extreme necessity, the greatest part of our families being destitute of houses, movables, cattle, or anything else whereby to subsist. For although there was lately a considerable distribution made, yet the greatest part of our people were more indebted than their portion amounted to, for bread and other sustenance, which they had been forced to take upon trust before, to preserve themselves from perishing with hunger. If you did but know, sirs, the greatness of our miseries, you would certainly have compassion on us, and pity our sad condition. God is now in good earnest chastising us for our sins and iniquities, to which we most willingly submit, kissing the rod, and confessing that He is still just and righteous."
Under date June the 5th, 1657, there exists a document signed by the Protector (with a trembling hand) recommending that the widow of one of the Vaudois, who had been put to death in the massacre, should receive an exhibition of £100, and such further sum as "will release her son out of prison and be a little help to her present support." Probably to the same year belongs another paper, in which war is anticipated between the Protestant cantons and their Popish enemies. It contains proposals to aid the belligerents by means of the remainder of the funds which had been collected two years before. "This just and seasonable way of the disposal of these moneys will yet more fully appear if it be considered, that a good part thereof hath been already sent for the relief of the present necessities of the Waldenses, and that the portion intended for the succour of the Protestant cantons is only to be lent to them upon very good security, to be repaid, for the use of those to whom it was given—there being likewise a very considerable sum still remaining in readiness for them, as their urgent pressures shall require, and they be able to receive it. To all which we may add the necessity of this proceeding in regard to that sum, the late collection—such great alterations have happened both by the wars amongst the cantons, and that unhappy compliance of the Waldenses with the Duke of Savoy (formerly related), as that a great part of the money collected will otherwise be as a dead stock in Guildhall; the loan of which for a little time may, by God's blessing, be a means to preserve both the Protestant cantons and also the distressed Waldenses for whom the collection was made."[553]