Meanwhile, the work began to take root in other parts of Switzerland.
Several of the Salutistes, crossing the Lake of Neuchâtel to the Canton
of Fribourg, were there received without hostile manifestations by the
Roman Catholic populations of the neighbouring villages. In one Sunday’s
evangelistic excursion they passed through six or seven villages, and in
some of these the poor people met them with gladness. In one, the pastor
came out of his house and invited them into his garden to take some
refreshment. He knew, he said, that their object was to drive “the
demon” out of the hearts of his people; to which truth, the Salutistes
responded with a hearty “God bless the pastor.” A journal of this Canton
(a Roman Catholic Canton) published, a week later, an earnest invitation
to the Salutistes to come among them.
Several indignant protests had been made in the press of Zurich against
the action of the authorities of Geneva and Neuchâtel. The following was
written from a friend of the cause in Zurich:—
“For some time I have been impelled to tell you that I also belong to
these soldiers, who have decided to fight valiantly against sin and
Satan, and to live and die for Jesus. Yes, praise God, I also belong to
this flock; and, even if I lose all, NOTHING shall separate me from Him.
My heart breaks—my eyes fill with tears when I see my brothers and
sisters suffer for Christ. Yet they are happy, and they never open their
mouths to complain.”
Another wrote:—
“Having learned that a meeting of the Salvation Army was to take place
at Buchillon, I engaged with a number of blackguards to make a row. When
I got inside the hall I asked for and obtained permission to speak for a
short time. I was, however, stopped in my discourse, not by any physical
force; but my mouth was closed, and I could not speak another word. I
was obliged to retire without having been able to carry out my
intention. The next day I was completely upset. I saw and felt that it
was God who had prevented me from fulfilling that wicked intention. I
prayed all day while at my work, and I had no rest until I gave my heart
entirely to the Saviour who had been proclaimed at that meeting. Now I
desire to be thoroughly consecrated. Formerly I was the terror of the
country. I led a life which even the world condemned. But now my desire
is that all men, whatever they may be, should possess this salvation,
and give themselves to the Saviour while there is time.
“F. —.”
John Wyssa, the Brother of Charles Wyssa, who had been brought to Christ
through that brother’s influence and example, accepted an engagement to
work at the Zurich Exhibition of this year, and might there have been
seen by visitors, wearing the S. on his collar while at work. This mark
of being one of the despised people brought upon him some ridicule and
annoyance, yet it helped him also in maintaining the high standard of
conduct expected from a Salutiste and any lapse from which would be
quickly observed by watchful and critical eyes.
A cheering sign for the future of Switzerland may be found in the fact
of certain Resolutions which were passed this summer at the annual fête
of Swiss students, held at Zofingue. During a six hours’ conference on
one day, the questions of liberty of worship and the right of meeting
were discussed in relation to the Salvation Army. Two theses on the
subject were read, one in German and the other in French. The former
strongly combated the objects and methods of the Salvation Army, and
approved of the measures recently taken by the Cantonal governments
against it. The latter, on the contrary, claimed liberty for all, spoke
in reproachful terms of the Councils of State of Geneva, Neuchâtel and
Vaud, accusing them of having violated the Constitution in order to win
popularity with a certain class of people who were fanatically opposed
to the Salvationists. In the discussion and voting which followed, the
latter view obtained an immense majority; two speakers alone were found
to defend the opposite opinion. These students represent the future
fathers, magistrates, &c., of the country, and it would seem that there
is more to hope from them than from some of the older generation.
The persecution in Rolle had the result of spreading the work to eight
villages in the Canton de Vaud, and the converts of Rolle itself became
some of the firmest adherents of the Salvation Army, labouring
continually for the salvation of their friends and neighbours.
In Geneva, the persecution had somewhat abated. Miss Patrick wrote thus
of a visit paid to Geneva during the summer:—
“This is a change after Neuchâtel—no scheming and planning to escape
roughs, no stones, ink, wood, water, curses, &c. We miss them all, and
here walk through the streets in full uniform, which seems to offend no
one, and better than that, we walk into halls and have meetings without
being slowly smothered. On Wednesday evening, on our arrival, we found
some Neuchâtel friends already here, and also our friend Monsieur Valès
from Cannes, so the evening meeting was a fête. Many spoke and prayed,
and the Lord was ‘All and all’ to each one of us. On Thursday we met the
Serjeants, who visit others, look up sick or weak soldiers, &c., and
together we took fresh strength for service, and promised God to run
more quickly than ever on His messages. On Friday evening we held a
holiness meeting in the blacksmith’s forge.” “The old forge,” situated a
little out of Geneva, in the country, is a place of sweet and sacred
memories to many who were accustomed to resort thither in order to find
the peace and quiet in worship which was denied them in the city.
Adelaide Cox, who has laboured through the persecutions, and up to the
present time in Geneva, with a wonderful calmness, courage, and untiring
perseverance, wrote as follows of a united meeting of Genevan and
Neuchâtel Salutistes held according to previous arrangement in the
country just outside the frontier:—
“‘Shahut!’ ‘Shahut!’ were the first words we heard as we entered the
station at Geneva some ten days ago, accompanied by a hearty laugh from
some thirty porters who seemed highly amused. But a second greeting
reaches us from behind a mass of people all trying to get out of the
doorway at the same moment. ‘Hallelujah! Amen!’ Ah! that sounds more
friendly, and soon we are pushed and hustled along to find ourselves
with our dear comrades, and we repeat the loved Army watchword.
“Since then we have heard and seen so much that we scarcely know where
to begin, but all we have seen and all we have heard makes our hearts
well up with joy and thankfulness to Him who has led us up the hill
Difficulty, and will bring us soon into the ‘wealthy place.’ We thank
Him for that hill, for as we mount we command such wonderful views, and
catch such glimpses of the King in His beauty. Captain Becquet comes
with an invitation to meet the Neuchâtel soldiers in the open air on
Sunday. All arrangements are made and everything is ready. Morning
comes, and with it the call of a comrade, ‘En Avant! It is time to
start.’ So down the stairs to the boat, from the boat to the train we
hurry, and, after a long journey, we get to our destination. Up with the
cock-crowing next day. It feels like Sunday, and Sunday generally means
a great blessing, and so it proved this time.
“Something delays the soldiers—but a little patience, and here they are.
One, two, three, and now a whole rush of them. What Hallelujahs! what
grasping of our hands! in their glee some dear fellows literally jump
for joy. This is a welcome indeed! But there is no time to be lost—the
forest must be reached, for there we are to spend the day. This means a
long walk, for we are told we must not stay in this Canton! Onward then,
though we can’t see what harm we should do the trees, the fields, and
the few travellers along the road; but it is best to find a quiet nook
where we shall not be disturbed. We soon come to it, and sit down in a
ring under the shade of some forest trees, whose thick boughs entwine
and cover us in, as in a room. This, indeed, is the ‘place prepared,’
where Jesus Christ will meet with us to-day. And he did meet with us.
There were there men who had been in prison many times; many who had
lived beneath the weight of dark sins were there rejoicing in a full
salvation, and all our hearts beat high as we sang of the redeeming
grace which had reached even to us. The day passed quickly, and we leave
with happier hearts, our strength renewed, our courage greater.”
I think it well to mention here that during her stay at Lausanne in the
spring Miss Booth received a visit from the father of her friend and
companion, Maud Charlesworth. He came from England with the intention of
taking his daughter back with him; but on seeing and hearing of the good
work being done in Switzerland, he was satisfied that it was well that
she should remain longer. He returned alone, committing his daughter
once more to the care of her friend. The following letter was published
in several foreign journals, addressed by him to Pastor Theodore Monod,
of Paris:—
“Lausanne, March, 1883.
“MY DEAR SIR,—Miss Booth has placed before me a number of _Le
Christianisme_ of this week, in which there are statements very
painful to her, not so much as affecting herself personally, as in
being prejudicial to the work in which she is engaged. These
statements are founded on assertions in the London journals, which,
since I came to Switzerland, have been explained to me by Miss Booth
and my daughter as having originated through ignorance of the true
circumstances of the case.
“My daughter has not been acting in the capacity of secretary or
aide-de-camp to Miss Booth, and she has at no time worn the uniform of
the Salvation Army, but only a simple dress made in England, of which
I approved, she also wearing the initials ‘S.A.’ When Miss Booth found
it necessary to go to Geneva, she did right in taking my daughter with
her, as I had stipulated that they should not be separated; and my
daughter so being at Geneva, it was with my consent she remained. Miss
Booth has watched over her and cared for her, and the unfortunate
circumstances which have occurred in Geneva have arisen from the
action of the police authorities there, and not from any disregard by
Miss Booth of the terms upon which my child had been left in Paris
under her care.
“All these painful misunderstandings seem to have originated through
the letter written by my daughter, as she informs me, to General
Booth, intended by her to be seen by him alone, but which through
inadvertence was made public in the _Times_.
“You have my authority to use this letter, in justification of Miss
Booth.
“I have the honour to be, my dear Sir,
“Yours very faithfully,
(Signed), “SAMUEL CHARLESWORTH.”[30]
Hearing during the summer that Miss Booth was suffering and ill, I
obeyed my own heart’s impulse and her invitation to come to her at the
Château G——, in the Canton de Vaud. She there expressed to me her
surprise—a surprise which I shared—that the Foreign Office in London had
not in any way taken notice of the illegal treatment to which she and
her companions had been subjected for seven months, although all the
facts had been communicated to it by our Ambassador at Berne. This
surprise was still more strongly expressed by several well-known Swiss
gentlemen who had arrived at the Château G—— to confer with each other
and with us as to the steps to be taken to obtain redress and to bring
the matter more effectively before our Foreign Office. “Your
Government,” said one of these gentlemen, “could with so good a grace
and with so much dignity address a grave remonstrance to ours. England
is so great and powerful, and Switzerland so small. That attitude of
admonition and warning on the part of your country would be natural and
just in such circumstances, and would be most useful in strengthening
that portion of public opinion here which is on the side of liberty and
the Constitution against the tyranny and lawlessness which now rule—a
Government, in fact, by _emeutes_.” The opinion of all present was that
an interposition of this character on the part of our Government at that
time would have been a strength to right principles all round, and a
moral gain far beyond that reaped by the individual victims of illegal
decrees and of the mob violence encouraged by those decrees.
It was at this pleasant Château, standing in a lovely park at the foot
of the Jura slopes, that an incident occurred showing how childishly
Governments may act and how ridiculous they may make themselves when
once they have entered on a false route. Having obtained information
that the lady of the Château, in obedience to the impulses of her kind
and maternal heart, had invited Miss Booth to be her guest, and to rest
awhile in this retreat from her heavy labours and anxieties, the
Department of Police of Lausanne sent a detective to ascertain if such
was the fact. This functionary after having to walk a considerable
distance from the nearest railway station, crept round the terrace, and
peered in at all the windows, including those of bedrooms on the ground
floor. He then came to the front entrance, and demanded an interview
with Madame. “You have Salutistes, here,” he said. She replied, “I have
several friends in my house, whom I have invited to stay with me for a
little repose.” He went to the nearest village, and telegraphed to
head-quarters, “Send a sufficient force to suppress reunion at Château
G——.” When this was told to the gentlemen above mentioned, who were
conversing in the drawing-room, the effect it produced was an
irresistible peal of laughter, which, however, gave way to yet graver
and more anxious discussion. Such “fantastic tricks” played by those in
authority are symptoms of the decrepitude of the Government.
From the Château G——, Miss Booth, Miss Charlesworth, and others, started
very early on a brilliant and beautiful morning, to meet a large
gathering of friends on the Savoy side of the Lake of Geneva. It was a
Saint’s day, a holy-day, when all the ateliers are closed, and a good
opportunity, therefore, for a meeting. The Geneva and other Salutistes
arrived at an early hour at Tougues in _Haute Savoie_. The Mayor of
Tougues had invited them to occupy a spacious piece of grassy ground
among shady trees, and came out himself on horseback to meet them,
treating them with much courtesy. The day was passed in prayer, and
praise, and exhortations, with intervals for refreshments and social
intercourse. It was a delightful sensation to be able to meet in peace,
free from the dogging steps of police spies and the gross insults of a
wretched mob encouraged by their rulers to consider themselves
emancipated from moral and legal obligations. I was unable to be present
at that happy gathering, but awaited at Lausanne the return of my two
young friends whom I had invited to come to be under my protection for
the brief period of their stay there. They landed from the boat at
Nyons. There a crowd followed them to the railway station for Lausanne.
“Salut! Salut!” was shouted along the streets; a few stones greeted the
Salutistes, but without injuring them. Miss Booth turned round and said,
with a smile, to her friends, “What wonderful opportunities God gives us
in this way to speak of salvation to the people!” They reached the
train, the crowd following, some even pressing their faces against the
carriage windows, curious to observe their conduct under this fire of
salutations not by any means respectful. When I met my young friends at
the Gare of Lausanne, their faces were full of happiness and peace,
although they were overcome by the fatigues of the long day. In the
morning when I entered their room to call them, they were still
sleeping. I wish that I could convey to others the thoughts which
presented themselves so vividly to me at that hour, as I looked at those
gentle sleepers, that they seemed the full solution of a question which
had taken possession of my mind, and upon which light had been gradually
dawning throughout the summer. The sunlight shining through the
half-closed shutters fell upon faces so pure, so innocent, so youthful,
and so peaceful, and the murmured morning greetings, as I kissed the
forehead of each in turn, were so childlike in their simplicity and
fullness of love, that it was difficult to realise for the moment that
these were the instruments chosen of God to lead an attack against the
kingdom of darkness with such a divinely-inspired energy as to embarrass
the Governments of the world and to stir up the bitterest rage of the
emissaries of Satan. “Oh! God, how wonderful are Thy works,” I said. I
could only stand and contemplate in silence and awe His ways and His
thoughts, which are as far above and removed from our ways and our
thoughts as the heavens are above the earth, and are all beautiful and
admirable to those to whom He grants humility to read them aright.
I take this opportunity of turning straight round, so to speak, towards
my fellow-workers in the Abolitionist crusade, now well-known throughout
the world, and of addressing them, face to face, in regard to the
interests of our own great cause, in the present connexion.
As I travelled with Miss Booth, or sat alone with her in our room, she
frequently related to me her experience—not the experience which finds
its way to the public eye alone—in Paris, Geneva, and elsewhere. Seeing
me sometimes in deep thought, she would ask me concerning my thoughts. I
could only reply: “I am contemplating with the deepest interest the path
in which God has been leading you, and the work to which He has
appointed you, because I see its intimate connection with the work to
which I have been devoted for many years.” It is needless to say that I
refrained from imparting to her—so young and already so heavily charged
with a great and difficult mission—the most painful experiences
attaching to my own special work. But she had observed and thought for
herself, and a very few words on my part were sufficient to show her my
meaning. Her true woman’s heart was not slow to feel, and her keen
woman’s instinct to perceive, that which some of my fellow-workers, much
older than she, have failed to perceive.
We have sometimes asked ourselves “how and by what instruments will this
work of moral purification and of conflict with the most desolating of
human vices be carried on in the future?” In our conferences and
publications it is almost universally taken for granted that this
crusade must be carried on by persons of mature age; that when women
take part in it, they must be married women, mothers, or (if unmarried)
they must be of a certain age, &c., &c. The thought of consecrating the
grace, the beauty, the charm of youth, especially of young womanhood to
such a terrible work would fill us for the most part with horror and
dismay. But “as the heavens are high above the earth, so are His
thoughts above our thoughts.” Unconscious indeed, blessedly unconscious
of the horror and magnitude of the evil against which they have been
warring, these girl warriors, clad in the armour of the most exquisite
purity, have been wielding a two-edged sword, the tremendous force of
which they themselves did not know, against a monster almost entirely
concealed from their eyes,—an evil whose proportions and true nature
they had no conception of. These little “handmaidens of the Lord” have
done, under His guidance, what none of us older persons have done or can
do, for we have not the same mysterious and special position. “Strangely
and dangerously chosen instruments,” I think I hear you exclaim. Do not
be alarmed. I would never advocate the deliberate enlistment in the war
against the social vice, of our young and delicate daughters. I see as
well as you do the unsuitableness, the dangers, and even the cruelty
that there would be in such a course. I only call upon you to regard
with unprejudiced eyes _what God has done_, or if you like it better so
expressed, _the facts of the case_. How shall I put before you in a way
to be understood, these facts of the case? I will endeavour to do so by
an illustration. When it was told to the wicked King Herod, that Jesus
was at hand, in the streets, near his palace gates—and that the people
were attentive to the words and acts of this Jesus, he started, paused,
trembled, and then shrieked in horror “it is John the Baptist _whom I
beheaded_! it is his ghost! he is risen from the dead!” It is not
uncommon for murderers to think they see even in some heaven-sent
messenger of warning, the ghost of their dead victims. Now you, my
fellow-workers in our great abolitionist and anti-slavery cause, do not
need to be told again of generations, past and present, of murdered or
still living victims of the deadly conspiracy of greed and lust which
has established its vast and diabolic organization throughout Europe.
You do not need to be told that, besides those who choose evil of their
own free will, there are thousands and tens of thousands of the young
daughters of the people bought and sold in the vice markets of the
world, caught when young, mere children, and forced into the State
accredited bastilles of vice, imprisoned, degraded beyond hope of
redemption, _murdered_, body and soul. Who are their murderers? Some of
them might have been seen among the violent opponents of the work of God
in Geneva; or, perhaps, not seen, but only _felt_ as an occult
influence; for these murderers prefer to work in the dark, and to pass
on their “blood-money” through other hands, while they themselves reap
its price in the gratification of their dark and cruel passions. There
are others, also, accessories to these murders, and these I hold to be
the most guilty of all. I mean the State officials who license,
superintend, and cover with their protection these horrible bastilles.
Let it be well understood that I have no word to say against the private
character and _honorabilité_ of certain individual administrators of
this cruel and immoral _régime_. They may be all that can be desired in
their private characters and in domestic life; but they cannot on this
account escape the guilty responsibility with which we openly and justly
charge them. They have signed the death-warrant of these young girls, of
whose existence they are daily aware, and whose places, when delivered
from their earthly slavery by death, are at once filled up by others
brought into the same bondage under the seal of their own official
permission.[31] Is it to be wondered at that the murderers of the young,
the weak, the poor, the stranger and the fatherless who fill these
State-protected _lupanars_, are literally aghast at the sight of a
_young girl_ who cries to them in the name of the God of Justice,
“Repent! for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;” and who, with divinely
imparted power, strikes, unconsciously it may be, at the very heart of
the secret covetousness or vileness which lies concealed beneath the
exterior of the respectable citizen or man of the world who abets and
permits this evil. We have seen men with heads lowered and averted eyes,
as Catherine Booth reasoned of “temperance, justice, and judgment to
come.” We have seen their faces grow pale, and their whole conduct
become like that of men who see in the slight youthful form and pure
face before them the spectre “risen from the dead” of _other_ youthful
forms and _other_ faces which might have been transformed as these, and
served their God in liberty and light. Their consciences cry out, “It is
John the Baptist whom I beheaded;” “It is the womanhood, the pure
girlhood which I destroyed, or to whose destruction I consented.” We
have already seen who were the chief instigators of the opposition in
Geneva to the young evangelists. Miss Booth received—when in prison at
Neuchâtel—a letter from a Genevan convert, who had been an actor on the
stage. He wrote:—“Tell Mrs. Butler that I now understand and rejoice in
her work against the institutions of immorality. When she first came to
Geneva, I did not understand it; but now I understand it.” For the light
had entered his own soul, by which alone we are able to see all evil
things in their true colours. It will be remembered by some that my
first utterance on the Continent, nine years ago, was styled the “Voice
of one crying in the wilderness.” It did not long remain a solitary
voice, or without response, for its echoes were soon heard from all
sides. Yet the thought has ever been deeply buried in my heart, that
our, or rather God’s great work of abolition and purification would not
be accomplished, or even very markedly advanced, until the baptism of
water, (the moral purifying,) was crowned by the baptism of “fire and of
the Holy Ghost;” and I have waited and watched for this fuller baptism,
as “those that watch for the morning.” Those who are called to work for
the consummation of this reform must be persons wholly consecrated, and
filled with the Spirit of God. So far as we have been practically and
radically successful in the work, it has been through such power and
such instrumentality; and our God will not fail us in bestowing still
further grace in the future. I commend the above considerations to my
abolitionist fellow-workers, in the hope that they will see that, both
as an old defender of the great legal principle of the rights and
freedom of the individual, and as a believer in God and in His Christ, I
could not refuse to obey the call of conscience in coming to the side of
those in whose case these principles have been openly violated, and in
pleading the cause—too little understood as yet—of those who, having
wholly abandoned themselves to God and His service, have been directed
by His unerring hand to the attack of the strongest fortresses of evil
to which we can point in the world around us.
Sunday morning, September 9th, the morning of the memorable day on which
the arrest in the Jura Forest took place, was one of those bright
September mornings without a cloud in the sky, clear and crisp, in which
all nature seems to be rejoicing and praising God. I had previously been
in communication with the lessees of the Reformation Hall in Geneva, in
order to engage the hall in my own name, with the purpose of holding a
night of prayer on Monday (the following night). We much desired, on the
eve of the departure of Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth from
Switzerland to have such a meeting, to pray for a blessing on that land
which we all love so much. The meeting in the Jura woods was to be Miss
Booth’s farewell meeting with friends in Switzerland. We did not imagine
at that moment that our plans for prayer in the Reformation Hall, and
hers for a farewell conference with her friends previous to her journey
to Paris, would all be changed, and that God had other plans for us. I
had risen early that day, and was walking down the hill with a friend to
the station, when we met a young Swiss officer, a messenger of the
Salvation Army, whose face I did not know, but who recognised me; he put
into my hand a letter from Col. Clibborn at Geneva. I stopped and read:
“Our dear Wyssa died yesterday. The funeral will be to-morrow.” The
death of Wyssa had been long expected; nevertheless it came suddenly at
the last; and as at almost the same time I received information that the
Reformation Hall could not be granted to me if Salvationists were to
come there, it was decided that our gathering should take place instead
around the grave of our friend. The messenger pursued his way with
Mdlle. H. and others to Neuchâtel, and I took the early boat on the lake
to my sister’s home near Rolle.
On this day, September 9th, the memorable meeting took place at
Prise-Imer, in the Jura forest, some five miles above Neuchâtel. Miss
Booth wrote:—“It was a day never to be forgotten. Long before the hour
the people began to gather; several hundreds were assembled. The weather
was beautiful. After so much trouble, fatigue and a long journey, we
could meet to talk of the things of God. Hearts and voices rose
together, and it cheered me much to look into the faces of our brave
soldiers. There was no mistaking their zeal and determination to go
forward. I was soon informed that the Prefect was present with the Chief
Inspector of Police. There was a movement through the audience, but I
continued to speak.”
The Prefect of Police appeared with the Chief of the Gendarmerie, and
fifteen gendarmes (having had to scramble through the forest all that
distance), bearing orders to break up the meeting and bring away Miss
Booth by force. But they paused, overawed, touched—as anyone must be who
has not a heart of stone—at such scenes as these meetings present. For
nearly two hours those seventeen officers listened respectfully to the
appeals of Catherine Booth, who, filled with the spirit of our Lord, was
speaking such words of power and of holy compassion as few are able to
resist. When she prayed, they stood with heads uncovered, and faces
bent, joining silently. She prayed for the Prefect of Police, asking for
him blessings, temporal and spiritual, with such sincerity and
simplicity that he wept. She prayed also for the Government and nation
of Switzerland. At the close several of the converts, who had formerly
been criminals, gave their testimony, mentioning the fact that the
police there knew them. One said, “I was in prison three years,” and he
produced a little sensation in the assembly by pointing to one of the
police, a detective in plain clothes, and saying, “that policeman knows
me well; he took me to jail; but now I am another man.” The completely
changed appearance of these men, and their open, joyous faces, impressed
the Prefect more than all; these were “living witnesses.” He said to
Miss Booth:—“This is a magnificent work, if it does but last; you do
nothing but good. I beseech you not to hold me responsible for this act;
I cannot bear to be held responsible for it. I, like others, had judged
you without seeing or hearing you.”
As they left that pleasant place, Miss Booth said spontaneously, “How
strange that we cannot worship God in these woods! What a pity to see
all those fine trees standing idle, those beautiful forests silent and
unused!” Captain Becquet was also arrested. M. Convert publicly stated
at the arrest the Army had been a great blessing to himself and family.
He said he had had Captain Becquet four months in his house, and he
considered it an honour to have him; he loved him as a son; he had
observed narrowly his life and conduct, and could testify to their being
true to the Name which he professed.
At M. Convert’s house, the Prefect informed his prisoners of the warrant
which had been issued for their arrest and the order to bring them
immediately to Neuchâtel. Being a man of heart and kindly feeling, he
refrained from telling them of the imprisonment which awaited them,
leaving that for its instigator, M. Comtesse. The Prefect informed M.
Convert that he had orders so harsh that he could not and would not
carry them out.
Miss Booth asked if she and her companions might be allowed to _retire
for that night_. The Prefect replied, “No,” though he was very
considerate, seeing that she was much exhausted. But he was obliged to
fulfil his duties as a servant of Government, and reminded her that he
had not interrupted the meeting as he had orders to do.
Miss Booth and Captain Becquet were then taken to Neuchâtel to the house
of M. Comtesse, President of the Conseil d’Etat, who had illegally
ordered their arrest and imprisonment, the competent authorities having
refused to do so. The prisoners having arrived at his house, M. Comtesse
entered the room and said with an air which savoured of exultation, “YOU
ARE MY PRISONERS, AND IT IS MY DUTY TO HAVE YOU LOCKED UP THIS NIGHT!”
M. Convert pleaded that Miss Booth was his guest, and that he alone had
called the meeting, deliberately, and with full consciousness of what he
was doing. He asked to be allowed to bear the penalty. This was refused.
Miss Booth desired to be allowed to attend a funeral at Geneva on the
following day in fulfilment of a promise, and gave her word of honour to
appear when the law should demand her presence. He replied—“Words of
honour have no value with the Neuchâtel Government, but if M. Convert
likes to stand bail for Miss Booth and Captain Becquet he can do so.” To
this suggestion of M. Comtesse M. Convert assented, having obtained from
the prisoners their promise to appear after the funeral. Miss Booth
never having been in circumstances of the kind before, was not at all
aware that “standing bail” meant a money guarantee, and was surprised to
learn subsequently in Geneva that M. Convert had signed for 6,000 f.
(£250), and had already paid down 300 f.
While absent, she received a telegram from a friend in Neuchâtel to say
that unless she immediately presented herself to the authorities M.
Convert would probably lose the money of his “caution.” Realising then
for the first time that the burden and consequences of her illegally
executed arrest and imprisonment were resting upon M. Convert and not
upon the authorities (the real authors of these illegal and harsh
measures), she felt—first, that she could not conscientiously allow the
“caution” to remain; and, secondly, that she ought not in the interests
of civil and religious liberty to relieve the authorities from any part
of the consequences of having illegally arrested and imprisoned a
British subject for the performance of an act of Divine worship, for
which the fullest liberty is guaranteed not only by the Cantonal and
Federal Constitutions, but also by the Treaty of September, 1855. She,
therefore, with Captain Becquet, presented herself on Saturday morning,
the 15th September, at the Hotel de Ville, Neuchâtel, saying that they
were ready to meet the demands of the law, and desired that the
responsibility of their acts should no longer remain upon their friends.
We must now go back, however, to the day following the arrest, Monday,
September 9th, the day of Wyssa’s funeral.
Doubts have been expressed as to Miss Booth having acted wisely in
re-entering the Canton of Geneva on this occasion. The step was taken
with deliberation, however. We had obtained the opinions of Swiss
gentlemen, old and tried friends, and among whom were some lawyers. It
was generally agreed that it would be now not amiss to challenge the
illegal decree of expulsion by acting as if it had no existence. At the
same time this return for an hour or two to Geneva was not in any degree
carried out by Miss Booth and her friends in a spirit of bravado; so far
from that, it was her intention only to remain an hour or two to fulfil
the dying request of her friend. She had a carriage in waiting, in which
it was her intention to drive straight across the frontier again as soon
as the interment was over; and she had made no provision for remaining
in the Canton for a moment longer than was necessary for her to attend
the ceremony, and speak some words over the grave of this, her son in
the faith. On the other hand, the question had been for a long time
discussed among Genevan citizens, defenders of law and constitutional
right, as to the best means of bringing these illegal decrees of
prohibition of meeting and of expulsion to the bar of the public opinion
of the more enlightened classes, and of testing them by the law of the
land. The only means of doing this effectually, it was agreed, was by
having the question brought before the tribunals in some individual
case. Never yet had this been done. Miss Booth and her companions had
been judged and punished as criminals, _without ever having been brought
before any Tribunal_. They were the victims of “summary jurisdiction” in
its most extreme form. Happily the tribunals are not yet corrupted; this
statement has been verified by the verdict of the jury at Boudry. On the
one and only occasion on which the Salvationists have appeared before a
regularly constituted tribunal of the country, they were pronounced _not
guilty_. M. Audeoud at Geneva, and M. Convert at Neuchâtel, have on
several occasions, deliberately and with grave intent and purpose, set
aside the illegal decrees forbidding the meetings, in the hope that by
so doing the matter might be forced before the tribunals, and that thus,
by the simplest legal means in their power, they might bring to an end
the present tyrannical, vexatious and immoral suspension of their
ancient rights and liberties. It may be difficult for friends in England
entirely to understand this position. Happily our respect for law in
general makes us shrink from the idea of defying anything which has the
smallest semblance of law; this is chiefly the case however with those
persons who are so placed as never to feel any law pressing upon them at
all uncomfortably, or who can peaceably buy off the obligation to obey
it, if it should do so. The most wretched little police regulation
fabricated in Scotland Yard seems to most Englishmen to have something
of the sacredness of law about it. This is a result of a wholesome
national education in the past, while it ought to be an indication to
our legislators and police rulers of the greater danger they will
ultimately incur if they take advantage of the law-abiding character of
our people, in order to encroach upon their dearly prized liberties.
Before his death Charles Wyssa had asked that his body might be carried
into the Reformation Hall, and the funeral service held there—in the
place of his spiritual birth. But this request was refused. He was a
“Salvationist,” sufficient reason why his desire that his mortal remains
should there bear a last testimony to his Redeemer, should be refused.
But he had made another request, which _was_ granted. He had asked that
the _Maréchale_ might speak at his grave; and though arrest and
imprisonment might be the consequence, the dying request was too sacred
to be weighed against the illegal degree of expulsion, which it was the
deliberate opinion of many ought to be challenged.
About ten o’clock on the Monday morning the Salutistes began to gather
at the farmhouse about a mile from Geneva, where their comrade had died.
Members of the Salvation Army had arrived from Paris, Nîmes, Italy, and
various parts of Switzerland. I was present, and was struck by the great
affection which was felt by these fellow-workers for each other, and at
the same time by the quiet and restrained manner in which they expressed
their feelings. Those of Geneva greeted each other and their friends in
short and condensed phrases. Few words, and brief and calm adieus were
spoken, though the separations to follow might be long. They had the air
of persecuted people, who have a great work on hand, and who look to the
far future.
A circle was formed in front of the house of M. Wyssa, in the bright
sunshine. The coffin was placed in the centre of the group, the father,
mother, sisters, and brothers of the deceased being gathered round it.
The Salvation Army flag was spread upon the coffin, surmounted by a
branch of palm, sent by a friend from a tree just brought from Jericho
to the Botanical gardens. Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth crossed the
frontier at nine, reached the house in a closed carriage just as all was
ready, and having spent a few minutes with the sorrowing family,
accompanied them into the circle, followed by the officers. The service
was opened with the hymn, “Plus que vainqueurs.” A blessed influence
fell upon the whole assembly as we sang, like a soft breath from the
world of glorified spirits where Charles had gone. We seemed in that
hour separated from all the world. Col. Clibborn spoke briefly on the
words, “we shall not all sleep; we shall all be changed in a moment, in
the twinkling of an eye.” Prayer was offered up; there was perfect
tranquillity. Presently a slight movement was perceptible among those
assembled, caused by the sudden appearance of the Mayor of the Commune
at the outer edge of the circle. He declared that this was a reunion of
the Salvation Army, and pronounced it to be dissolved, ordering us to
disperse. It was striking to see the perfect calm with which the whole
company received this challenge. No one moved; scarcely a head was
turned to notice these words, which seemed to fall into that peaceful,
solemn funeral circle as from another world—not the world into whose
glories our spiritual eyes were following Charles. One could not help a
feeling of sorrow and pity at the sight of that pale, agitated face,
which looked over the heads of the group from the shadow of the trees,
and which betrayed a state of soul so little in harmony with that world
of light.
(This act of the Mayor in interrupting a funeral ceremony in the grounds
of a private house, and without having his official badge, was a
violation of the Swiss laws, and a formal protest was lodged the same
evening by Madame Wyssa.)
Col. Clibborn explained, “We are about to bury a friend;” to which the
Mayor replied, in tones which must have grated harshly on the ears of
the weeping mother, “bury him then!” Col. Clibborn simply replied that
“the earth is the Lord’s,” we had a right to bury a comrade in God’s
earth, and that we would shortly proceed to the cemetery, (the time
being limited by the law). Whereupon the Mayor withdrew, saying as he
left that he would bring armed force unless the singing was
discontinued. The following is from the report given in the Continental
organ of the Army.[32] “Several voices then invited Mrs. Butler to
continue the service.... She said she had watched with deep sympathy and
interest the work in Switzerland. From the knowledge she had acquired in
the course of her work against organized vice in its most terrible
forms, she was not the least surprised at the treatment the Army had
received; it was exactly what she would have expected in view of its
open war with the terrible vices of the age. The day was coming when
these hidden things of darkness would be revealed, and when things which
were now whispered in secret would be proclaimed on the house-tops.
‘Take courage;’ she said, ‘you are now passing through a time of trial
in which you are forbidden to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation
freely. Remember Paul and Silas in the prison of Philippi. Their feet
are bound with chains, the doubly-bolted door of their cell is strictly
guarded. It is midnight, the darkest, coldest hour. They cannot escape.
They can no longer carry abroad the good news, the Gospel of Jesus
Christ. Sad and melancholy thoughts must surely have taken possession of
their minds. Listen! they are singing—they, prisoners, bound, and at the
dark midnight hour, are singing the praises of God. Those who hear them
are amazed, for to rejoice and to sing at such a time and in such a
place they must be madmen—or _Christians_! Follow their example, friends
and comrades, rejoice and praise the Lord, even in your darkest hour,
and the result will be the same for you as for them. As they sang, the
prison doors were opened, and the chains of the prisoners fell to the
ground; and mark this—not only were the apostles themselves free, but
the chains of their fellow-prisoners were also loosed. So it will be
with you. By your rejoicing faith, by your perseverance, by your
fidelity unto death, not only the prohibitions which bind you will be
withdrawn, but you shall see the liberation even of many around you who
are tied and bound with the chains of their sins. It may be that God
will grant you to deliver from a miserable bondage those very persons
who now forbid you to preach Jesus in their midst, those rulers in
Geneva who are yet strangers to the true liberty of the children of God,
and who are miserable in their bondage.’ Turning to the mother of
Charles Wyssa, she addressed to her some words of sympathy. She also had
known a mother’s sorrow. She had given the name of Evangeline to her
dear child—her only daughter—for it had been the desire of her heart
that she should be a messenger of the gospel of peace to others. But God
had taken her early to Himself.... She concluded by urging the members
of the Salvation Army to be of good cheer. There might be much yet to
suffer; but she believed that Switzerland was to be won for the Lord.”
It being a Salvationist’s funeral, the undertakers refused to send a
bier and the customary mourning paraphernalia. The relatives had asked
for the former, having never seen an Army funeral before. To them it was
a new and touching spectacle to see the coffin of their comrade, still
covered with the flag and palm, raised and placed upon the shoulders of
six of Charles’s fellow-soldiers. Four members of the Geneva Corps and
two of the Neuchâtel Corps were the bearers.
About three hundred persons had now collected, many of them external to
the Salvation Army, and some strangers, attracted by sympathy. We moved
on in a line very quietly from the house to the cemetery along the open
high road, in the midst of many tokens of respectful sympathy from
country people and others on the road. Before reaching the gate of the
cemetery a police officer ran to meet us, and when we entered, the Mayor
again appeared, and stood during the proceedings opposite to Miss Booth
and her group of friends at the other side of the open grave. The coffin
was lowered, while all stood around in perfect silence. Miss Booth then
spoke on the beautiful words from the Revelations: “Who are these which
are arrayed in white robes, and whence came they?” “Charles is now in
that white-robed throng. He has passed through the tribulation. He has
been faithful unto death. Every one who does anything worth doing must
pass on through desperate struggle, pain, and tribulation. I wish this
to be a day ever to be remembered by our Genevan soldiers. I desire and
pray that fresh life, a Resurrection life, may be granted at this tomb
for every soldier, that we may here this morning consecrate anew our
lives and our all to rescue the perishing millions.”
“We are now passing through a tunnel in a rock, as it were, but light is
on before, and if we go on without faltering or calculating consequences
we shall come out into the light. Calvary seemed a dire defeat, but it
was the grandest victory the world ever saw. Victory is ahead for us
also if we are but faithful.” Then followed a powerful appeal, which
moved almost all who heard it to tears. Even the Mayor, who had retired
a little into the background, seemed touched. A few English travellers,
who had gathered round from curiosity, appeared surprised and
solemnized. Curiosity gave place to looks and attitudes of reverence and
to signs of deep emotion as Miss Booth concluded with a prayer which
seemed to bring us into the unseen world. As it ended, a softly chanted
chorus rose round the open grave, “_Courage, soldats, vers le ciel
avançons!_”
John Wyssa, the younger brother of Charles, then came forward to the
edge of the open grave, and in a loud voice, trembling with emotion,
said, “I give Charles’ dying message to all his fellow workmen, _that
they choose the better part_, and meet him in heaven. It was through his
prayers that I was won to choose that better part; his life drew me
nearer to the Saviour, and his death has confirmed and strengthened me.”
He then threw a handful of earth on the coffin with the words “_au
revoir_, my brother.” It was just at that moment, and with the solemn
penetrating words of the prayer Miss Booth had offered still ringing in
the ears of all, that the Mayor with his Marshal approached, and
arrested Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth,—there, in the presence of the
dead. They having made their formal protest against the illegality of
their expulsion, and having been told in reply by the police officer
that armed force would be employed if necessary to bring them before the
authorities, were conducted to the carriage which they had come in, and
which was waiting to take them across the frontier. A large crowd had
gathered, all in strong sympathy with the persons arrested. The
coachman, who had been deeply impressed by the funeral service, refused
to mount the box when he received the order to drive us to the Hotel de
Ville, and it was not until we had told him positively to do so that he
would move. The Salvation soldiers gathered round the carriage,
proclaiming their determination to be faithful unto death. There was, in
the midst of the enthusiasm, an entire absence of anything like
hostility towards the authorities, although there was a movement of
confusion and conflict owing to the crowd which had assembled, and the
Mayor and his Marshal were for a moment hustled. The countenance of the
former betrayed feelings of displeasure and distress; he appeared
conscious that he was performing an unpopular, even an unjust act. A few
Swiss Salutistes raised a shout of encouragement for us, and were
arrested for doing so. We were driven to the Hotel de Ville, Col.
Clibborn accompanying us. Clarke also, the faithful and loving attendant
of Miss Booth, was allowed to come, and to remain with her during the
time that she was detained. We reached the Hotel de Ville, and were
passed on from room to room, having to wait a certain interval in each.
It cannot be said that we were treated with much courtesy during our
detention (until the arrival of M. Cuenod). M. Héridier, whose part it
should have been to be present on this occasion, again found reasons for
not coming face to face with the persons whose arrest he had commanded.
According to the _Journal de Genève_ he was communicating, however,
during the whole time by means of a telephone from his own house, with
the officials with whom we were shut up. The British Consul kindly came
and remained with us.
I could not but admire the steadfastness of Miss Booth and Miss
Charlesworth under the questioning they underwent; Miss Charlesworth
declined to sign the first form of deposition put before her. The
officials became irritated, and complained of the trouble given them in
re-writing it, expressing their irritation in a somewhat coarse and
noisy fashion. Her countenance never changed. Her replies were uniformly
gentle, but she was firm as a rock, calm, and at her ease, as though
momentarily engaged in silent prayer to One whom she felt to be by her
side. Surely these men—if they have any perception of degrees of moral
worth—must have felt pained by the sense of their own immense
inferiority to this gentle child. Miss Booth was, of course, asked why
she had re-entered the Canton without permission. She replied by
affirming, categorically, first, that her expulsion was illegal, she not
having been guilty of any offence which could justify it; secondly, that
it was a breach of the Treaty of Friendship, Commerce, and Establishment
between England and Switzerland (she held in her hands at the time a
copy of the Constitution of Geneva, and of the above Treaty); and
thirdly that the Chief of the Department of Justice and Police had
falsified a Cantonal police regulation in order to furnish an excuse for
expelling her. The surprise and anger of her questioners on hearing this
arraignment of their own acts and of their government were beyond
description. For a moment Miss Booth was herself surprised when she saw
the effect of her own words. She came through the open door to where I
stood, and begged me to “look at these men!” asking, “What had I better
say next?” I considered the effect on these officers of her just and
courageous challenge so salutary that my advice was: “Go in and say the
same words over again.” Having at first prompted Miss Booth to accuse
her accusers thus, I told her at the time that I wished to share any
responsibility with her for so doing, and that I hoped shortly to be
able to prove all the assertions made by her, as above quoted. That
engagement I have endeavoured to fulfil in the present narrative.
The arrival, after a considerable time, of M. Cuenod (the Chief of the
Cantonal Police), a benevolent man, and a true gentleman, brought about
a decision in her favour. We were dismissed. The two banished ladies
were ordered at once to be conveyed to the frontier, while Col.
Clibborn, whose only offence was that of joining in a funeral
“procession”—a thing allowed every day—was warned not to do so again. A
crowd awaited us as we left the Hotel de Ville. M. Cuenod said, in a
very decided tone, to the police agent who was to conduct us to the
frontier, “see that these ladies are treated with every possible
courtesy.”
I cannot help mentioning what struck me, both in the course of our long,
slow drive from the cemetery to the Town Hall, and also on leaving that
office on our way to the frontier. In passing through the streets of
Geneva, I took occasion to observe the nature of any expression of
popular opinion which might be evidenced. I saw nothing hostile. Many
poor people were passing along the streets, and amongst them continually
one or another would turn to greet the Salutiste party, with a word of
sympathy or a wave of the hand. One very poor woman, bonnetless and
miserably dressed, gazed after us with much sympathy in her face. I
observed one who was running up a passage as if to get out of sight, but
on observing Miss Booth and her friends, she turned, and with a glowing
face, shouted, “Salvation; Hallelujah; The Lord be with you,” and then
disappeared into a cellar. There were also many poor men who raised
their hats respectfully and silently. My general impression was that
either there were not present here any of the roughs who had played such
a disgraceful part in the winter, or else that the tide had somewhat
turned in the popular mind. On the country road as we passed, there was
nothing but respect and sympathy evident among those who passed, and
those who straggled after us. Several gentlemen of our acquaintance, M.
Lenoir and others, seeing us as we left the Hotel de Ville, engaged the
first carriage they could find, and accompanied us to the frontier, so
that our exit resembled rather a joyous procession than an expulsion.
The police agent who accompanied us sat on the box of our carriage. In
the carriage which preceded us was a company of merry Salvationists, who
struck up one of their joyous hymns. It was really an invigorating drive
along that beautiful road towards the Grand Salève, with the exquisite
view of Mont Blanc all draped in dazzling snow, in front of us, and the
afternoon sun throwing clear blue shadows from the nearer cliffs. The
air seemed full of fragrance, and the song of the Salvationists as it
rose and fell was in harmony with everything around.
When we arrived at the frontier we alighted at a little wayside house or
inn, where a company of members or friends of the Army were already
waiting, and still gathering from different parts. It was a pleasant and
joyful meeting. I could not but observe, what indeed deserves to be
constantly remembered, the utter absence of anything like anger or
resentment, or any signs of recrimination on the part of the
Salvationists toward those who oppose or illtreat them. They had endured
insults enough “to provoke a saint,” as the saying is; but in this I
think they bear the mark of true saints, inasmuch as they do love their
enemies, bless them that curse them, and pray for them that despitefully
use them and persecute them. The Marshal of the Mayor, who had
accompanied us, lighted his cigar as he got down from the carriage, and
was starting on his homeward road to Geneva in a dégagé manner; (he had
not looked at all at his ease during the whole day). I admired, and I
hope he too was touched by the gentle farewells which were addressed to
him. “May God bless you,” “God be with you,” “We pray for you,” &c. This
is constantly the language addressed by Salvationists to those who
assail them, and to subalterns who, in their official capacity, are
obliged to deal severely with them.
The only allusion which Miss Booth has ever made to Mme. de Gasparin,
was in a letter written from Lausanne on the 16th February, 1883, just
after her expulsion. She wrote:—
“Oh, my comrades, stand firm! Dare to obey your conscience. Follow
Christ—the same Christ who is despised, hated, and rejected to-day as he
was nearly nineteen centuries ago. As to the book of Mme. de Gasparin, I
confine myself to pointing out the following facts:—(1.) This lady who
has had the time to write a long brochure, has not been able to spare a
moment to receive me. She put me off for fifteen days, the necessary
time for the publication and circulation of her work. (2.) Mme. de
Gasparin has not attended any of our meetings, and yet she attempts to
describe them. (3.) Mme. de Gasparin has never spoken with any officer
of the Salvation Army. The spirit which animates the garbled translation
made by her of our orders speaks sufficiently. The day will come when
all things will be revealed. I have a conviction, an assurance, that
Mme. de Gasparin will regret then having written against a work that God
has owned by so much blessing, and which has been in His hands the means
of leading thousands of souls to the Saviour.”
I have seldom seen a more complete illustration of what is called
English pluck than I have done while in company with the Salvationists.
The ordinary English idea of courage is too generally connected with a
readiness to resort to physical force; how often one hears the saying,
“Why did he not knock the fellow down?” when telling of any particular
insult sustained by the Salutistes. The courage exercised by these
people is much greater than any which expresses itself by the exercise
of muscular prowess. They are absolutely good tempered and calm in the
midst of the most provoking and exasperating circumstances, and
undaunted when facing the roughest mob. The following quotation may
serve to represent the view taken of this matter by a Swiss looker-on.
“What strikes me most about these people is an extraordinary
impression of power. I have felt this power on every side. In the
first place, in the absolute sincerity of the personal testimonies
given. Those who accuse these people of acting a part can never have
seen them near. Secondly, I find this power in their perfect calmness,
which never varies in the midst of the greatest noise, nor even in the
midst of opposition and mockery all around, or of laughter, which is
more difficult to bear. I am certain that those who imagine that they
can trip them up have made a bad calculation. These soldiers are at
home in an atmosphere of war as fishes are in the water. What chiefly
produces this is their constant determination to put forward the
person of the Saviour, to bring all the world to him, and, to that
end, to forget themselves entirely. These men have left their country
and every comfort, and for what human end? The power which they
possess has its root in the unfeigned joy which pervades their whole
being. It is this joyfulness which expresses itself in the words of
Captain Becquet, spoken with that mixture of seriousness and
jocularity too entirely English to be understood among ourselves:
‘Amen! my friends. When one is in Christ one feels oneself perfectly
free and joyous. It is a grand thing to be entirely independent of
public opinion. Hallelujah! As for me, let the journals say what they
like about me. It runs off me like water off a duck’s back.’ When he
said this, if I had not been afraid of being taken for one of the
rioters, I should have been inclined to shout, ‘Right you are,
Captain!’ Yes, no doubt, this Salvation Army has a wonderful power,
and amongst all the criticisms which have been made of it there is one
which certainly is most unsuitable. Their Christianity has been spoken
of as ‘unmanly and effeminate.’ I find this rather too much. Just look
at these people, many of them of naturally timid constitutions,
inspired by their convictions with a courage to brave not only the
fear of the mob—that is very little to them—but the daily opposition
which results from such a witness as their lives present. Look at
those men and women whom we saw the other day at Paris, who are
constantly seen in England, knocked about, their heads broken, their
lips bleeding, yet conscientiously persevering through all in
observing the article of their rules which commands them in every such
case to put their fists in their pockets. There is more still. There
are men amongst them whose word seems to challenge and change the most
degraded drunkards, and to bring them by dozens, nay, by hundreds, to
repentance, conversion, and sobriety; who restore (this is not
sentiment, it is simple history) to the wife and her children, the
father transformed from a brute into a man. In the face of such
things, can anyone speak of a morbid, effeminate Christianity? There
is only one thing to reply to such accusers—‘Do as much yourselves,
friends, with your manly Christianity.’ The rowdy and bitter opponents
have been more clear-sighted than the critics it seems in this matter;
for they have at least given their testimony that the Salvation Army
is one of the greatest powers of the time.”
Col. Clibborn had had several interviews with the British Ambassador at
Berne during the spring, and deposited with him a written demand on
behalf of Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth for justice and protection as
British subjects, strongly urging upon him the necessity of immediate
intervention. Thinking that by acting at the centre of Government, he
might succeed in arresting the progress of persecution at Geneva, Miss
Booth asked him to remain and see some influential people. He saw Col.
von Buren and the President of the Republic; the latter advised him to
send to him an appeal, which proved of no immediate use. Col. Clibborn
had not the least idea when leaving Geneva that the police would at once
be upon his track; they came to his house the next day, and not finding
him, they then went to Miss Booth’s house. He heard nothing of their
search for him till afterwards.
He was himself expelled from the Canton of Geneva about a week after the
funeral of Charles Wyssa; his offences being that he had walked in a
funeral procession (a thing allowed and practised continually), and that
he had written an article on Arnold von Winkelried. This article was a
very beautiful call to the exercise of a spirit of self-sacrifice,
illustrated by the brave act of that Swiss hero.
I give the following comment on Col. Clibbon’s expulsion in the original
from _En Avant_:—
“L’arrêté d’expulsion en date du 18 Septembre est basé sur les trois
motifs suivants:
“1^o Sa ‘_conduite donnerait lieu à des plaintes_.’
“Le seul point qui a été signalé dans l’interrogatoire est d’avoir écrit
l’article: ‘On demande des Arnold de Winkelried’ dans le numéro de _En
Avant!_ du 1^{er} juillet.
“2^o D’avoir ‘_contrevenu à l’arrêté du Conseil d’Etat interdisant les
exercices de l’Armée du Salut_.’
“C’est-à-dire d’avoir, au commencement du mois d’août, deux dimanches, à
7 heures du matin, dans le local privé, présidé deux réunions de prière
et d’y avoir lu la Bible, parlé, prié Dieu et chanté. Il ne fut question
dans l’interrogatoire que de ces deux réunions.
“3^o D’avoir ‘_violé la loi sur le culte extérieur_.’
“Le seul fait qui lui a été reproché sous ce rapport, est d’avoir pris
part au cortège funèbre de Charles Wyssa et d’avoir chanté un cantique
sur la route.
“Il n’existe aucune loi en Suisse interdistant de chanter sur la voie
publique; pas plus qu’il n’en existe qui défende de prendre part à un
cortège funèbre.
“D’ailleurs les chants ont cessé à la première sommation.”