CHAPTER I
Movements in Switzerland—Source of the Reformation—Democratic Character—Foreign Service—Morality—The Tockenburg—An Alpine Hut—A Pastoral Family. At the moment when the decree of the Diet of Worms appeared, a continually increasing movement was beginning to shake the quiet valleys of Switzerland. The voice which was heard in the plains of Upper and Lower Saxony was answered from the bosom of the Helvetic mountains by the energetic voices of its priests, its shepherds, and the citizens of its warlike cities. The partisans of Rome, seized with terror, exclaimed that a vast and dreadful conspiracy was every where formed against the Church. The friends of the gospel filled with joy, said, that as in spring a living breath is felt from the streams which run into the sea up to the mountain tops, so, throughout all Christendom, the Spirit of God was now melting the ices of a long winter, and covering with verdure and flowers the lowest plains as well as the steepest and most barren rocks.
Germany did not communicate the truth to Switzerland, nor Switzerland to France, nor France to England. All these countries received it from God, just as one part of the world does not transmit the light to another part, but the same shining globe communicates it directly to all the earth. Christ, the day-spring from on high, infinitely exalted above all mankind, was, at the period of the Reformation as at that of the establishment of Christianity, the divine fire which gave life to the world. In the sixteenth century one and the same doctrine was at once established in the homes and churches of the most distant and diversified nations. The reason is, that the same Spirit was every where at work producing the same faith. The reformation of Germany and that of Switzerland demonstrate this truth. Zuinglius had no intercourse with Luther. There was, no doubt, a link between these two men; but we must search for it above the earth. He who from heaven gave the truth to Luther, gave it to Zuinglius. God was the medium of communication between them. “I began to preach the gospel,” says Zuinglius, “in the year of grace, 1516, in other words, at a time when the name of Luther had never been heard of in our country. I did not learn the doctrine of Christ from Luther, but from the word of God. If Luther preaches Christ, he does what I do; that is all.” But if the different reformations, which all proceeded from the same Spirit, thereby acquired great unity, they also received certain peculiar features, corresponding to the different characters of the people among whom they took place.
We have already given a sketch of the state of Switzerland at the period of the Reformation, and will only add a few words to what we have already said. In Germany, the ruling principle was monarchical, in Switzerland it was democratic. In Germany the Reformation had to struggle with the will of princes; in Switzerland, with the will of the people. A multitude are more easily led away than an individual, and are also more prompt in their decisions. The victory over the papacy on the other side of the Rhine was the work of years, but on this side of it required only mouths or days. In Germany, Luther’s person stands forth imposingly from the midst of his Saxon countrymen. He seems to struggle alone in his attack on the Roman Colossus, and wherever the battle is fought, we see his lofty stature on the field of battle. Luther is, as it were, the monarch of the revolution which is being accomplished. In Switzerland, several cantons are at once engaged in the contest. We see a confederacy of Reformers, and are astonished at their numbers. No doubt there is one head which stands elevated above the rest, but no one has the command. It is a republican magistracy, where each presents his peculiar physiognomy, and exercises his separate influence. We have Wittemberg, Zuinglius, Capito, Haller, Œcolampadius. Again, we have Oswald Myconius, Leo Juda, Farel, and Calvin, and the Reformation takes place at Glaris, Bâle, Zurich, Berne, Neufchatel, Geneva, Lucerne, Schafausen, Appenzel, St. Gall, and in the Grisons. In the Reformation of Germany, one scene only is seen, and that one level like the country around; but in Switzerland, the Reformation is divided, as Switzerland itself is divided by its thousand mountains. So to speak, each valley has its awakening, and each Alpine height its gleams of light A lamentable period had commenced in the history of the Swiss after their exploits against the dukes of Burgundy. Europe, which had learned to know the strength of then arm, had brought them forth from their mountains, and robbed them of their independence, by employing them to decide the destiny of states on battle-fields. Swiss brandished the sword against Swiss on the plains of Italy and France; and the intrigues of strangers filled these high valleys of the Alps, so long the abode of simplicity and peace, with envy and discord. Led away by the attraction of gold, sons, labourers, and servants, stole away from the chalets of alpine pastures towards the banks of the Rhine or the Po. Helvetic unity was crushed under the slow step of mules loaded with gold. The object of the Reformation in Switzerland—for there too it had a political aspect—was to re-establish the unity and ancient virtues of the cantons. Its first cry was that the Swiss should tear asunder the perfidious nets of strangers, and embrace each other in strict union at the foot of the cross. But the generous call was not listened to. Rome, accustomed to purchase in these valleys the blood which she shed in order to increase her power, rose up in wrath. She set Swiss against Swiss, and new passions arose which rent the body of the nation in pieces.
Switzerland stood in need of a reformation. It is true there was among the Helvetians a simplicity and good-nature, which the polished Italians thought ridiculous, but, at the same time, it was admitted that by no people were the laws of chastity more habitually transgressed. Astrologers ascribed this to the constellations; philosophers, to the ardent temperament of this indomitable population; and moralists, to the principles of the Swiss, who regarded trick, dishonesty, and slander as much greater sins than uncleanness.2 The priests were prohibited from marrying, but it would have been difficult to find one of them who lived in true celibacy. The thing required of them was, to conduct themselves not chastely, but prudently. This was one of the first disorders against which the Reformation was directed. It is time to trace the beginnings of this new day in the valleys of the Alps.
Towards the middle of the eleventh century, two hermits set out from Saint Gall, and proceeding towards the mountains at the south of this ancient monastery, arrived in a deserted valley about ten leagues long. Towards the north, the high mountains of Sentis, the Sommerigkopf, and the Old-Man, separate this valley from the canton of Appenzel. On the south, the Kuhfirsten, with its seven heads, rises between it and the Wallenses, Sargans, and the Grisons, while the eastern side of the valley opens to the rays of the rising sun, and discovers the magnificent prospect of the Tyrolese Alps. The two solitaries having arrived near the source of a small river, (the Thur,) built two cells. The valley gradually became inhabited. On the highest portion of it, 2010 feet above the Lake of Zurich, there was formed, around a church, a village named Wildhaus, or the Wild House, with which two hamlets are now connected, viz., Lisighaus, or the House of Elizabeth, and Schœnenboden. The fruits of the earth are unable to grow upon these heights. A green carpet of Alpine freshness covers the whole valley, and rises upon the sides of the mountains, above which masses of enormous rocks lift their wild grandeur towards heaven. At a quarter of a league from the church near Lisighaus, on the side of a path which leads into the pastures beyond the river, a solitary house is still standing. The tradition is, that the wood used in building it was cut upon the very spot. Everything indicates that it must have been erected at a very remote period. The walls are thin. The windows have little round panes, and the roof is formed of slabs, on which stones are laid to prevent the wind from carrying them away. In front of the house there is a limpid gushing spring. In this house, towards the end of the fifteenth century, lived a man named Zuinglius, amman or bailiff of the district. The family of the Zwingles, or Zwingli, was ancient, and in high esteem among the inhabitants of these mountains. Bartholomew, brother of the bailiff, at first curate of the parish, and, after 1487, dean of Wesen, was a person of some celebrity in the district. Margaret Meili, the wife of the amman of Wildhaus, and whose brother John was afterwards abbot of the convent of Fischingen in Thurgovia, had already given birth to two sons, Heini and Klaus, when, on the first day of the year 1484, seven weeks after the birth of Luther, a third son, Ulric, was born in this solitary hut. Five other sons, John, Wolfgang, Bartholomew, James, Andrew, and a daughter, Anna, were afterwards added to this Alpine family. No person in the country was more venerated than amman Zuinglius. His character, his office, his numerous children, made him the patriarch of these mountains. He and all his sons were shepherds. No sooner did the first days of May open upon these mountains than the father and the children departed with their flocks for the pastures, rising gradually form station to station, and so, towards the end of July, reaching the highest summits of the Alps. Then they began gradually to redescend towards the valley, and in autumn the whole population of Wildhaus returned to their humble huts. Sometimes, during the summer, the young people who had been obliged to remain at home, eager for the mountain breezes, set out in bands for the chalets, uniting their voices to the melody of their rustic instruments. On their arrival on the Alps, the shepherds from a distance saluted them with their horns and their songs, and regaled them with a feast of milk. Afterwards the joyous band, by turnings and windings, descended again into the valley, moving to the sound of their pipes. Ulric in his youth doubtless joined occasionally in this amusement. He grew up at the foot of those rocks which seem eternal, and whose tops reach the heavens. “I have often thought,” says one of his friends, “that, being brought near to heaven on these sublime heights, he there contracted something celestial and divine.”
There were long winter evenings in the cottages of Wildhaus, and then young Ulric, seated at the paternal hearth, listened to the conversation of the bailiff and the old men of the district. He heard them tell how the inhabitants of the valley had formerly groaned under a heavy yoke. With the old men his heart beat high at the thought of the independence which the Tockenburg had acquired, and which the alliance with the Swiss had secured. A patriotic feeling was kindled in his breast. Switzerland became dear to him; and if any one uttered an unfavourable expression against the confederates, the child instantly stood up and warmly defended their cause. During these long evenings he was often seen quietly seated at the feet of his pious grandmother, with his eyes rivetted upon her, listening to her Bible stories, and devout lessons, as he eagerly received them into his heart.
