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Updated: May 23, 2025
Neff did see His conduct, prowess, martial gallantry: He wore a white plumach that day; not one Of Belgians wore a white, but him alone And though that day was fatal, yet he fought, And for his part fair triumphs with him brought." Laing's "Fugitive Scottish Poetry of the Seventeenth Century." The passage occurs in the fifth book.
Above Arvieux is the hamlet of La Chalp, containing a considerable number of Protestants, and where Neff had his home a small, low cottage undistinguishable from the others save by its whitewashed front. Its situation is cheerful, facing the south, and commanding a pleasant mountain prospect, contrasting strongly with the barren outlook and dismal hovels of Dormilhouse.
REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ELIAS NEFF, FORTIETH INDIANA: ...."As the regiment reached the top of the ridge and swept for. ward, the right passed through, without stopping to take possession, the battery at General Bragg's headquarters that had fired so venomously during the whole contest."
A shy, bright-faced fellow opened the little temple for our inspection, and Pastor Charpiot reminded us how its interior was not only planned by Neff, but in large measure his actual handiwork. Half an hour further on our path led us through the hamlet of Minsas, now entirely abandoned and in ruins. The desolation of the valley here becomes appalling.
The valley of Fressinière, at the entrance of which Pallons lies, is the centre of those special interests which first prompted the pilgrimage I am recording. With it are specially associated the earliest traditions of Protestantism in France, and here Felix Neff spent the larger part of his brief but memorable career as pastor in the High Alps.
The following winter, his third in the High Alps, Neff again opened this school, dividing its care, however, with one of his most capable pupils of the previous year, and paying occasional visits to other parts of his parish. But now his health, never robust, began to give way under the incessant strain to which it was subjected.
Neff gives a spirited account in his journal of leading out a party of young peasants by torchlight, armed with axes, to cut a path here on the evening before some service in which he wished the people of the upper and lower valleys to unite. Dourmillouse lies on a slope above this difficult ascent. It is a mere group of rude chalets, like the other villages, but it has a less miserable air.
Neff was old enough to say such things, and Pet dampered her noise a trifle. But she held Prissy back and made him recount his adventure again. They had a good laugh over it Prissy giggling and hugging one knee, Pet whooping with that peasant mirth of hers.
He wondered if Neff remembered he was there, if any of the boys thought of him up there, and thought that he never was to go down that old cinder-road again. Never again! He had not quite understood it before; but now he did. Not for days or years, but never! that was it.
It is only of late years that the road has been completed, and it is often partly washed away in winter, or covered with rock and stones brought down by the torrent. When Neff travelled the gorge, it was passable only on foot, or on mule-back. Yet light-footed armies have passed into Italy by this route.
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