CHAPTER VIII.

Bobbio-Magnificent scenery-Breakwater or rampart of BobbioAnecdote-Humanity of the Vaudois—Catechetical instruction -Church of Bobbio-M. Muston, pastor of Bobbio-Repast at the Presbytery-Papists and the second Commandment—Infant baptism-Vaudois, not fanatics--Anecdote-A rural sketchRetrospect-Henri Arnaud-Enterprizing achievement-March of the exiles-La Roche Blanche―The pass of Salabertrand forced-Martial enthusiasm-Anecdote of Arnaud-Intrepidity of the Vaudois-Fastnesses of San Martino-Guerilla warfare -Fortress of Baceglia-Temendous pass-Sanguinary conflicts-Affecting anecdote-Termination of the contest-Boyer's narrative.

FROM Villaro to Bobbio (Bobi) the road still pursues a due westerly direction, up the banks of the Pelice. The defile opens a little as you advance; and when Bobbio first breaks upon the view, the prospect is one of the most magnificent that mountain scenery presents. The mountains themselves seem to retire, and at the same time to rise in height by irregular swells and gradations, in order to form an amphitheatre of such vastness and beauty, that the traveller must pause, and contemplate the awful picture in front of him, before he approaches to make a nearer examination. To the right the Col d'Aliries lifts up his head far above a succession of ridges, which rise majestically from their rocky basement; and, to the left, the gigantic peak of Mount Viso is seen glistening at one moment in the sun, and at another half enveloped in passing clouds. The enormous masses soar one above another, summit above summit, and crag above crag; each appears at times to be the loftiest of the

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chain, until a current of wind blows away the misty veil, which conceals the still more elevated eminence in its

rear.

Such was the back ground of this grand picture; the foreground was equally glorious. We had been ascending ever since we left La Torre, a distance of about six miles, and were still on the ascent; but the environs of Bobbio form a vale at the foot of a semicircular range of mountains, which look as if they only now begin to soar. The face of this vale had much variety of aspect and colouring, even after a fall of snow; and there were yet a few green spots left, in sheltered nooks, or on sunny banks, whose cheerful verdure took away from the gloom, which gray rocks and dark pines, intermixed with long tracts of snow or masses of ice, would otherwise have thrown over the landscape. Every kind of tree and shrub, that the soil of this region produces, from the stately walnut to the drooping fruit tree, clothed the banks of the innumerable streamlets that pour into the Pelice, and stand so thick, that when seen at a distance, they look like a grove in front of the village, to protect it from the keen east winds, that blow up the valley of LuOf this valley, Bobbio is the extreme commune, for it is here that the higher chain of Cottian Alps lock in the valley, and form its barrier between France and Piemont. There is a pass which traverses the Col de la Croix, by which the traveller may reach the frontier in one day.

zerna.

As you approach Bobbio, the Roman Catholic church, and vicarage, are the two first objects that attract attention. The Protestant church is nearly in the centre of the village, and is discovered by the three windows which appear at the east end. The tower, or belfry, is separated from the church by the burial ground, and is built upon a rock. The presbytery stands very near.

It is impossible to take a first view of this most picturesque village, without fancying that it is capable of providing a secure retreat against all the storms of life.

But its

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vicinity to the frontiers of France, and its exposure to the first brunt of border warfare, with its position under mountains, which pour their torrents with such violence into its bosom, as to threaten a general inundation, will soon shew the enquiring visitor, that it is far from being the sheltered corner of his imagination. In fact, there are few of the Protestant communes which have suffered more than this, both from the aggressions of man, and the fury of the elements.

Twice Bobbio has been entirely destroyed by inundations: hundreds of the inhabitants, with almost all their cattle, and every cottage in the vale, have been washed away, by the tremendous force of the waters, which rush like a deluge from the steeps, when the snows melt with more than common rapidity. A rampart, or breakwater, was erected with the assistance of a subscription raised in Holland, about a hundred and twenty years ago, to protect the village from such fearful visitations. We walked to look at this breakwater, and such a spectacle is beheld at its extreme point, as makes the whole frame shudder. A foaming torrent is seen rolling from the mountains, rushing with impetuous haste, and menacing the very piers on which you stand; then precipitating itself over fragments of rock, dashing blocks of stone against the wall, which is built to check its violence, and roaring as if a hundred battering rams were in motion against the jetty. Nature's horrors, and man's resolute perseverance in the endeavour to counteract them, were finely displayed on this spot; and we could judge, from the state of the torrent at this time of the year, what the Pelice must be in the season when it is swelled by continual rains, and the melting of the

snows.

But Bobbio has obtained a still more imperishable reputation from its deeds of humanity, than even from its grand work of industry, the breakwater of the Pelice. In the terrible conflicts between the French and the allied armies

M

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HUMANITY OF THE VAUDOIS.

in 1799, the sick and the wounded of the contending forces received attentions, which were acknowledged, in general orders, by the commanders-in-chief of the French, Russians, and Austrians. But the resources of the villagers were at length so much exhausted, that the means of rendering further assistance were denied them; and, in this destitute condition, their Christian charity hit upon a scheme, which perhaps never before entered the head of persons so situated. "We cannot relieve you any longer," they said to a French party then quartered on them, "our poverty has nothing left; but since our homes can be no asylum to you, we will carry you to your own." The thing seemed impossible: how could men who were suffering under the intolerable anguish of dangerous wounds, be transported over the mountains? They could not walk, and their maimed limbs would not allow them to ride. "We will convey you on our own shoulders," was the reply of these good Samaritans of Bobbio: and they did so. They prepared litters, which answered their benevolent purpose; and in this way, upwards of three hundred wounded French soldiers were carried over the Alps, and safely set down in their own country.

It is said that M. Rostain, the late pastor of Bobbio, suggested this most humane scheme, after having expended all he was worth in the world in aid of the sufferers, whom the evils of war had recommended to his humanity, without regard to national prejudices, or enquiring whether the objects of his pity were friends or foes.

This good man toiled afterwards as a day-labourer, to put bread into the mouths of his children, and soon fell a victim to his exertions. Poverty and oppression broke his heart, and the necessaries of life were not to be procured at a period of his existence, when he had no longer strength to bear up against deprivations: but his charity did not meet with charity.

At the restoration of the legitimate dynasty, two elergy

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men's widows were turned out of their habitation, in the middle of winter, to make way for a Catholic priest, who had a small hamlet assigned to him for a benefice, where himself and his woman servant were the only two belonging to the Roman church. I have reason to fear that the widow of the unfortunate and ill-requited Rostain, was one of these widows, who were so cruelly dispossessed.

We found M. Muston, the present pastor of Bobbio, in his church, engaged in the same duty as M. Gay had been at Villaro, that is, in giving instruction to his young flock, fifty-six boys, and thirty-two girls. He had almost finished when we entered, and was then occupied in delivering the customary address, which follows the catechism. He did it with much judgment, and considerable effect; and as I noticed his earnest manner and paternal anxiety to impress upon his youthful hearers the importance of what he had been explaining, I could not but feel pain under the recollection of the imperfect mode, in which we too commonly discharge this duty in England.

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The Bishop of London's late impressive Charge upon this subject occurred to my mind, and I saw before me a

"The general disuse into which this practice has fallen, I consider as calamitous to the interests of piety in the highest degree, not only by removing one of the strongest incitements to the parents to teach, and to the children to learn, the doctrines and laws of their Christian profession, but still more by its fatal effect in frustrating the purpose, which it was the principal object of the ordinances relating to these points to attain. If at the age when the mind is susceptible of the strongest impressions, the young are regularly brought into personal intercourse with their minister,, and accustomed to receive their instructions from his lips, they will naturally imbibe a respect for his person, and a reverence to the sacred character of his office, which will prove the strongest of barriers against immorality and vice, as well as dissent and infidelity. They will regard with deep veneration the truths which they have received upon his authority, and will feel, what reasoning can hardly make clear to the ignorant, the danger, no less of guilt than of error, in deserting the appointed guide of their youth for intrusive and unknown teachers. The discontinuance of this salutary practice is imputable, neither to the neglect of the ecclesiastical governors, for they have constantly remonstrated against it-nor to the indolence of