mained buried under the fallen snow. The Waldenses found chestnuts, potatoes, and maize, in great quantities, and wine, butter, and other necessaries, were daily brought in by their foraging bands.
Every morning, and every evening, the warrior-priest, Arnaud, assembled his soldiers around him for prayer; every Sunday and Thursday, he preached to them, and they received from his hands the Holy Communion of bread and wine. At the same time he was endeavoring by all possible means, to fortify the rocky terraces of Basiglia, so as to be prepared for the tempest of the spring.
The enemy sent many embassies with the white flag of truce to negotiate. But the terms which were still offered to the Waldenses, were again—exile. They might as well have spoken to the rock of Basiglia, as offer such terms. Thus the winter passed on; the snow melted and Easter came. And with it, came again the host of the enemy into the valley of San Martino. A host of twenty thousand men—and at their head the French Marshal, Catinat—encamped themselves in the valley at the foot of La Basiglia.
A May day was decided upon for the storming of the rock stronghold. A troop of five hundred picked veterans under the conduct of the brave De Parat, were intrusted with the main attack, supported by the fire of seven thousand muskets. Catinat beheld, in the watch-fires around the camp at night, the feux de joie over the certain victory. But the Lord of Hosts willed it otherwise. The little troop of picked veterans were cut down by the brave garrison of Basiglia, its leader taken prisoner, and the enemy suffered so great a loss
