LE PUY
The basin of Le Puy—Situation of the city—Mont Anis
and l'Aiguilhe—How to reach Le Puy—The Velauni—Their
capital—Transferred—The feverstone—Temple of Adido—Monument of
Scutarius—Baptistery—The Black Virgin—The cathedral—Murder of a
chorister by Jews—Western entrance and façade—Cloister—Vaulting
of nave—Tower—Lay canonry—Paintings—Walls—Old houses—S. Michel de
l'Aiguilhe—How did the builders work?—S. Laurent—Du Guesclin—The
Bible of Theodulf—Wealth of the see—Bad bishops—Bertrand de
Chalençon—William de la Roue—Revolt of the people—Murder
of the bailiff—The White Hoods—Antoine de S. Nectaire—His
sister—Massacre ordered—The bishop at Fay-le-Froid—Espaly—Vidal
Guyard—Capture of castle—Defence of Le Puy—Church militant—The old
gunner—Christopher d'Allègre—The Huguenots retire—The Revolution.
Assuredly no city in Europe occupies a site so fantastic as does the
capital of the Velay. The high wind-and-snow-swept tableland to south
and west falls away and forms a pleasant basin covered with vineyards
and sprinkled over with white villas or summer-houses of the citizens,
as if there had been a giant's wedding and much rice had been thrown.
The Borne, that has hitherto struggled through ravines and tumbled in
cascades, here ceases to be boisterous, and puts on an air of placidity
as it glides past the cathedral city.
[Illustration: WEST FRONT OF CATHEDRAL, LE PUY]
In this basin the climate is mild compared with that of the uplands,
and the soil is fertile. The train from Arvant curves round the town
before it settles into the station, much as a dog turns about before he
lies down to snooze.
What at once arrests the eye on approaching Le Puy is that out of the
very midst of the basin up start two rocks; the largest is Mont Anis,
and about this, up its steep sides, the town scrambles. On a ledge
above all the houses is the cathedral, and soaring above that again
is the rock of Corneille, crowned by a colossal statue of the Virgin
fifty-two feet high, and the largest in the world. It is run out of two
hundred Russian cannons taken at Sebastopol, and stands on a pedestal
of twenty feet. It is a disfigurement to the town, for it dwarfs the
venerable cathedral. The site was formerly occupied by a ruined tower.
The other rock is the Aiguilhe, the Needle, on the summit of which
stands the church of S. Michel, reached by 265 steps cut in the face of
the rock.
The town is composed of houses grappling to every ledge; the streets
are stone stairs, and the _place_ is staged on steps. When to this is
added that the cathedral is unique in its way, a marvel of Romanesque
architecture, treated in original fashion, then it will be conceived
that Le Puy is an attractive place to visit.
But when we come to consider how it may be reached we are beset with
difficulties. The direct line from Paris is undoubtedly that leading
to Vichy, but the trains from Vichy onward do not correspond, and are
moreover omnibus trains that loiter for six hours and a half over
seventy-four miles.
Nor can we reach Le Puy by the main line from Paris to Nîmes in a
day, for at the junction, S. George's d'Aubrac, the trains do not
communicate, and there is no tolerable inn at this junction where one
can spend the night.
The third way is by Lyons and S. Etienne, and this is by far the best,
for by it the whole journey can be effected in a day; but for that one
must travel by express first-class as far as Lyons.
The people anciently occupying Le Velay were the Velauni, and they had
their capital at Rheusio, so called from _rhew_, the Celtic for cold;
and that was at S. Paulien. There also was the first seat of a bishop,
but S. Evodius (351-374), whose name has been corrupted into Vosy,
transferred his throne to Le Puy, then called Anisium. It is supposed
that a dolmen stood on the platform now occupied by the cathedral, and
that a large slab of trachyte laid down in the porch, its blue colour
distinguishing it from the rest, was the capstone. This slab is called
the Feverstone, and those with fire in their blood were wont to sleep a
night upon it. The earliest mention of a cure performed by this means
is in the time of S. Vosy. To the dolmen, if it ever existed, succeeded
a Gallo-Roman temple dedicated to a local deity, Adido, conjointly with
Augustus.
When Scutarius, the second bishop of Le Puy, was buried, a monument
was erected over him. To save the trouble of shaping a stone for the
purpose, the mason of that day took a slab on which was an inscription,
"Adidoni et Augusto Sex. Tolonius musicus D. S. P.," turned this about
and carved on the other side a monogram of Christ, and under that
"Scutari Papa vive Deo." The form of the letters, the title of Pope
applied to the bishop, not yet restricted to the pontiff at Rome, and
the expression of hope so like those found in the Catacombs, speak for
the antiquity of this inscription. But it was not allowed to remain
where placed; when the present cathedral was built, this stone was
employed as lintel to one of the north doorways.
The oldest building in Le Puy is the baptistery of S. John, near to
the cathedral. It was much altered in the Middle Ages, but is still an
interesting relic of the fourth century. From it was removed the white
marble sarcophagus of the fifth century, now in the museum of the town,
on which are figured the cure of the paralytic, the cursing of the
barren fig tree, and other scriptural themes.
This baptistery was in use till 1791, as the exclusive place where
children of Le Puy could be christened. In this Le Puy resembled
Florence, Pisa, and other North Italian towns, where baptism was a
sacrament reserved for administration at the Mother Church.
The fame acquired by Le Puy as the chief seat of the worship of the
Virgin dates from an early but unknown period. Charlemagne in 803
founded ten poor canonries _la pauperad_ in connection with the
church; but the great prosperity of the church as an attractive point
for pilgrims is due to a black image said to have been brought from
the East by Louis IX. But as it happens, the Eastern Church does not
tolerate carved images, and contents herself with paintings of sacred
subjects. Le Puy was, however, an objective of pilgrimage long before
that, for in 1062, Bernard, Count of Bigorre, went thither, and in a
fit of devotion vowed himself and his county to Our Lady of Le Puy, and
undertook to pay to this church annually a considerable sum of money.
High above the altar is now set up what looks like an Aunt Sally at
a fair. It has a black head, from which the garments are spread out
like the feathers of a shuttlecock. But this is not the original
doll, for that was burned at the Revolution. One might have supposed,
perhaps expected, that the clergy on returning to the church would have
rejoiced to be rid of such an object of degrading superstition. But
not so, they had another black virgin made by a joiner, and dressed it
in frills and furbelows, and set it up to receive the adoration of the
ignorant and the stupid. One thing they did change; the new doll was
made a little less grotesque and uncouth than was the first, of which
representations remain.
The original image was of cedar wood, swathed about with bands of
papyrus glued to it and partly inscribed. Upon this the features of the
face, of negro tint, the flesh of hands and feet and the draperies were
painted in distemper, in an archaic style. One story relative to it
was that it came from Mount Carmel, and had been carved by the prophet
Jeremiah in prophetic ecstasy. What seems most probable is that it was
an Egyptian idol representing Isis and the infant Horus. S. Louis may
have found this on his crusade to Egypt, and have frankly believed that
it was a representation of the Virgin and Child, and so have presented
it to the church of Le Puy. It certainly had a suspiciously Egyptian
appearance.
Devotion to the original image brought kings and nobles to it, and
made them open their purses and pour forth gold, and sign charters
delivering over to bishop and chapter vast estates and privileges. The
church became extremely wealthy, and it was owing to its wealth that
the glorious cathedral was built. The basilica is approached from the
west by the Rue des Tables, so named on account of the stalls set out
there at the time of the great pilgrimages. At the foot of the ascent
is a fountain erected in commemoration of a choirboy, supposed to
have been murdered by the Jews in 1320 and thrown into a well. He was
given up as lost, when on Palm Sunday he reappeared, took his place in
the procession, and told how he had been slaughtered, and how, by the
intervention of Our Lady, he had been resuscitated. The mob believed
the story, burst into the Jew's house, tore him to pieces, and cast his
dismembered limbs to be devoured by dogs.
If they had but looked closer into the matter, they would have
discovered that the urchin had been playing truant, and disguised his
idleness by a lie.
From the Rue des Tables the remarkable west front of the minster may be
seen in full. It is Romanesque in style, of the Auvergnat character,
the façade is enriched with stones white and red and black, arranged
in alternating bands, in lozenges and in lattice work. The zebra-like
appearance is not pleasing. The eye desires repose, and is teased with
the intricacy of the pattern.
This western façade is actually the frontispiece of a vast porch or
narthex that stretches back through four of the bays of the nave, with
flights of steps, eleven in each, and with landings between. Half-way
up the porch are two chapels, one on each side, with large oak doors
carved and painted. They represent groups of figures from the story of
the Gospel. The background is sunk, but the surface left smooth, and is
painted. The chapel on the right is dedicated to S. Stephen, that on
the left to S. Giles. Neither is now used.
On two of the steps of the ascent is inscribed in Latin, "Ni caveas
crimen, caveas contingere limen, Nam Regina poli vult sine sorde
coli." "Unless free from guilt shun this threshold, for the Queen of
Heaven will be worshipped only by a guiltless soul."
Formerly at the head of the fourth landing was a central doorway
leading into the nave by another flight of steps continued inside
the church; and it was said of Notre Dame du Puy, that you went in
at the navel and came out at the ears, _i.e._ at the lateral doors
in the transepts. But the central entrance has been walled up, and a
floor been laid over these steps. Access is now obtained to the nave
by a side flight that turns round the church and gives admission in
the south transept. The corresponding lateral flight gives access to
the magnificent cloister, partially closed by a gate of intricate and
beautiful ironwork. The arcade in the cloister rests on twin columns
with richly carved capitals, no two alike, and the wall space above the
arcade is filled in with mosaic work of red, yellow, white, and black.
The interior of the church is not less remarkable than the exterior.
Originally it consisted of a small square basilica, now forming the
retro-choir; this was prolonged into nave with aisles, and transepts
were added forming a Greek cross, with a dome at the intersection.
Later on the church was carried further westward, and the singular
western portion, a nave over a porch, was raised in the twelfth century.
[Illustration: PORCH, CATHEDRAL, LE PUY]
Each bay of the nave is surmounted by an octagonal cupola. Two sides
contain windows looking north and south. Two sides have also windows
sustained on an arch flung across the nave, and looking into it. The
four other sides of the octagons are in the depth of the wall. The
lateral south porch, opening on to the little Place du For, where is
the episcopal palace, is a noble piece of work. Two bold arches give
access to it. To the left is a doorway only opened for a pope to pass
through; the other gives admission to ordinary personages into the
transept.
The tower is a campanile detached from the church, unbuttressed, and
though fine, is too small for the size of the minster. But this is due
to the fact that every inch of space on the rock was precious, and had
to be economised. Accordingly a tower of greater bulk at base would
have encroached on the way of access to the basilica. There are two
more doorways, one, further on, a bold and daring sweep that spans not
the entrance only, but also the little street. A third is on the north
side.
Until this year, 1906, the head of the French State, King, Emperor or
President was _ex officio_ lay canon of Le Puy, just as our King is a
lay canon of S. David's. But with the separation of Church and State in
France, this has ceased, and M. Loubet was the last of the lay canons
of Le Puy.
At one time there existed a promising school of painting in Le Velay,
but it was killed by the troubles of the Wars of Religion. The frescoes
in the cathedral and in some of the churches exhibit great merit. Such
as remain, unfortunately very few, may be best studied in the Museum,
where are accurate copies.
The finest of all represents the liberal arts, and was discovered by
Mérimée in the capitular hall of the cathedral, in 1856. It is of the
fifteenth century, and is conjectured, but on insufficient grounds,
to have been the work of Jean Perréal, painter to Kings Charles
IX. and Francis I. In the Museum may be seen reproductions of some
paintings from Langeac, in which the figures are in gold on a brown
diapered background. One series represents the Annunciation, the
Nativity, Christ among the Doctors, speaking from a pulpit, and the
Good Shepherd. The Incarnation is figured allegorically by the Blessed
Virgin alluring to her the Lamb of God.
The city of Le Puy was formerly surrounded by walls erected by
the citizens against the Routiers, the Free Companies, and those
troublesome near neighbours the Polignacs. But their house was divided
against itself, for bishop and chapter were continually at strife with
the citizens, and to protect themselves against the turbulence of these
latter, the ecclesiastics drew an inner ring of walls about themselves
on the height above the town.
In the tortuous streets may be seen many specimens of medieval domestic
architecture, angle-turrets, doorways richly carved, and if one can
look into the courtyards, some dainty subjects for the pencil may be
obtained.
But after having seen the cathedral and the old town, the feet are
attracted to S. Michel l'Aiguilhe.
"The rock of S. Michel," says M. Paulett Scrope, "seems to contain
a dyke, which may probably have been erupted on this spot. It
is, however, of course evident that the conglomerate of which it
is composed must have been originally enveloped and supported by
surrounding beds of softer materials, since worn away by aqueous
erosion."
[Illustration: L'AIGUILHE, LE PUY]
The plan of the church on the pinnacle of rock is peculiar, resembling
the attitude of a sleeping dog. The chancel lies beside the main
entrance, at a higher level, and the nave is curved and has an aisle
also on a curve, divided from it by columns and arches, the former
with carved capitals of the end of the twelfth century, but with
one or two of an earlier date. The entrance is a superb specimen of
Byzantine-Romanesque work. The carving in tufa is delicate, and every
portion of surface not sculptured is inlaid with mosaic. The chancel is
the oldest part of the church, and may possibly belong to the original
structure consecrated in 980; but all the rest is two centuries later,
and the tower is a copy in small of that of the cathedral.
How did the builders of those days construct churches and donjons on
the tops of these obelisks? The Rabbis say that an angel can pirouette
on the point of a needle, but the work done here is more wonderful than
that of balancing for a few minutes on an acute point, for the masons
had to fill in all the rifts of the rock so as to form a terrace on
which to build. They must have been let down in cradles. As to the
tower, it was probably built up from within, as is done nowadays with
a factory chimney. On a lower level than the doorway are the ruins of
the habitation of the chaplain who served the church. He could obtain
plenty of fresh air there to fill his lungs, but could not get exercise
to circulate his blood, save by running up and down the stair in the
face of the rock.
On the way up to the chapel may be noticed recesses cut out of the
cliff. These formerly contained statues of saintly helpers in all kinds
of difficult and unpleasant situations. Among these was S. Wilgefortis,
a young lady with beard and moustache, much invoked by women with
vexatious husbands, who wanted to be rid of them. A fine statue of her
is in Henry VII.'s Chapel at Westminster. The Huguenots destroyed all
these figures in the niches. They were restored and again broken up at
the Revolution, but have not been reinstated.
In the same hamlet of l'Aiguilhe is a circular Romanesque chapel,
called the Temple of Diana, but which is actually a structure of the
twelfth century. It is now undergoing repair.
The church of St. Laurent has been given a modern gable with pinnacles
to the west front out of keeping with the character of the original
architecture. The western doorway was once rich, and had on it two
ranges of angels, twelve in each. The Huguenots broke the figures
in their hatred of everything beautiful, and mutilated the delicate
foliage as well.
The church has a broad nave with narrow side aisles. It contains a
carved stone organ gallery once rich with statuary, but the niches
are now empty. On the north side in the aisle is the tomb of Du
Guesclin, who did more than any other, except the Maid of Orléans, to
drive the English out of France. Even this monument did not escape
the iconoclastic rage of the Calvinists; but it has been judiciously
restored.
Guyenne, Poitou, Saintonge, Perigord, Brittany had been in turn the
theatre of his victories; but the war continued in Languedoc. Bands
of the Free Companies desolated the Gévaudan, Auvergne, and Le Velay.
The nobles and towns unassisted could not expel them, and appealed
to Charles V. to send them an experienced captain who would aid them
against these brigands, and he despatched thither Du Guesclin. In
August, 1380, the Constable entered Le Puy, and in a few days had
assembled an army. He then departed for the Gévaudan to lay siege to
Châteauneuf Randon, the head-quarters of the English routiers. The
Constable besieged the place, attempted to take it by assault, but
failed; and he vowed that he would not withdraw till it was captured.
The garrison defended themselves valiantly, but at length agreed
to capitulate. Du Guesclin was suffering at the time from a mortal
sickness, and he lay on his deathbed when the terms of capitulation
were agreed upon.
He died on the 13th of July according to history, on the 14th as stated
on his monument; and upon the day fixed for the surrender the Governor
laid the keys on the coffin of the deceased Constable. Charles V.
ordered the body to be transported to S. Denys; but it was first taken
to the Dominican church of Saint Laurent, there to be embalmed. The
intestines of the great warrior that were removed alone occupy the tomb
there erected.
The recumbent statue well answers to the description he gave of
himself: "Les épaules larges, le col court, la tête monstreuse; je suis
fort laid, jamais je ne serai bienvenu des dames, mais saurais me faire
craindre des ennemis de mon roi."
The cathedral library of Le Puy contains a copy of the Bible written
by Theodulf, Bishop of Orléans (788-821), a friend of Alcuin of York.
This MS. was written by his own hand whilst in prison at Angers for
having been involved in the conspiracy of Bernard, King of Italy,
against Louis "le Débonaire," a son of Charlemagne. On Palm Sunday the
King was at Angers and rode through the streets. As he passed under the
prison, Theodulf thrust his head out of the window, and at the top of
his voice chanted a poem he had composed in honour of Louis. The prince
drew rein and listened. Flattery, however fulsome, goes a long way. He
was pleased with it, though "laid on with a trowel," and ordered the
release of the Bishop. It is said that, when in captivity, Theodulf had
vowed to give to the church of Le Puy the Bible he had transcribed in
his dungeon.
The MS. is written partly on white vellum and partly on vellum stained
purple. On the white sheets the letters are in black, with the
capitals in vermilion; but on the purple pages are in silver, and the
capitals in goldleaf. The cover was repaired in the reign of Francis
I., the velvet of the ninth century being overlaid with velvet of the
sixteenth. At the Revolution this precious relic would have been flung
into the flames that consumed the Black Virgin had it not been for
the richness of the cover, with its ornaments of silver-gilt and the
precious stones with which it was encrusted. The text is not divided
into verses, and there is no punctuation, for the use of punctuation
did not become general till the tenth century. The text is that of the
Vulgate as corrected by Alcuin. Several of the passages in the Vulgate
as now used differ from those in the version employed by Theodulf; and
the Psalter is not that of the Vulgate. The preservation of the writing
is due to pieces of fine tissue having been placed between the leaves,
and of these fifty-three remain, and are interesting specimens of the
textures of the time of Charles the Great. The Bible has poems composed
by Theodulf prefixed to and following the sacred text.
Five of the early bishops of Le Puy are accounted saints, though almost
nothing is known about them. They must have monopolised the stock
of sanctity allotted to that Church, for of their successors none
could lay claim to much holiness, and many were a disgrace to their
order. But Le Puy was one of the richest sees in France, as the bishop
was count as well as prelate. The volcanic soil was extraordinarily
fertile, and the Black Virgin acted as a magnet, attracting to it an
inexhaustible stream of gold; and this made the see to be coveted
by ambitious and appropriated by unscrupulous prelates. Add to this
that the bishop was under the jurisdiction of no archbishop, and was
responsible to the Pope alone, who was too far off and too busy with
affairs of greater importance to trouble himself about the misdeeds of
the prelate princes of Le Puy.
It is open to debate which does most harm to the Church, the occasional
torrential rush through the ranks of the episcopate of some wild blood,
whose life is conspicuously at variance with his profession, or a
continuous and unabating flood invading every see of smug, smooth, and
colourless nonentities, who dilute the quality, abate the force, and
lower the temperature of the Church to insipidity, lukewarmness, and
inertia.
Some instances will suffice to show what manner of men they were who
now and then were bishops of Le Puy.
Adhelmar (1087-98), who died at Antioch as a Crusader, was succeeded
by Ponce de Tournon, who was an assassin. Bertrand de Chalençon's
hands were also stained by blood; he exasperated his flock to madness
by his exactions, heavily fining widows who remarried, and levying
exorbitant fees on burials. When Innocent III. proclaimed a holy war
against the Albigenses, and promised pardon for all sins to such as
should outrage, rob, and murder these heretics, Bertrand headed an army
of Crusaders, composed of the riff-raff of Velay, Auvergne, and the
Gévaudan, and marched south. The citizens of one town at his approach,
terrified at the prospect presented to them, fired their city and fled
to the dens and caves of the earth. They were premature. Bertrand was
more greedy of gold than of blood, and he made the towns as he passed
buy exemption from destruction, and pocketed the money himself, to
the rage and resentment of his followers. But they had full scope for
their brutal instincts at Béziers on June 22nd, 1209, when, at the
most moderate calculation, 20,000 persons, men, women, and children,
indiscriminately Catholics and heretics, were butchered, and the papal
legate looking on, is reported to have said, smiling, "Kill all; God
will know His own!"
Bernard de Montaigu (1237-48), to enforce recognition of his
seigneurial rights, subjected the city to an interdict, and
excommunicated the flock he was set to feed.
William de la Roue (1263-82) had appointed De Rochebaron as his
bailiff. This man fell in love with the beautiful wife of a butcher
in the town, lured her within the precincts of the ecclesiastical
fortifications, and outraged her. The guild of the butchers complained
to the prelate, who scoffed at the deputation, and refused to reprimand
his bailiff. The city was in commotion. When a party of the prelate's
men-at-arms returned from an expedition, after harrying the peasantry
in the country, and were laden with the spoils, the people rose. The
tocsin sounded. The butchers came down with their cleavers. There
was fighting in the streets. The troopers were despoiled of their
plunder, and were obliged to take refuge within the walls of the
bishop's fortress. William de la Roue was furious. He sent down the
obnoxious bailiff with all the force he could muster to chastise the
citizens. But they were surrounded by the enraged populace, and driven
to take refuge in the Franciscan convent. The butchers with their
choppers hewed down the door and slew the provost and six sergeants. De
Rochebaron fled up the tower. The butchers pursued, caught him hiding
among the bells, flung him down, and his mangled body was hewn to
pieces.
Eventually the bishop reduced the city to subjection. He had its
consuls hung in chains, and put to death all the butchers on whom he
could lay his hands. The old town, built about a volcanic dyke, was
ill provided with water. The wells tapped no springs, and were filled
with surface-water only, and the soil was impregnated with sewage
soaking down from every street and yard and lane through the joints in
the rock. As a natural result typhoid fever—or the Pestilence, as the
people called it—broke out, and became endemic. Frantic at this, the
citizens looked about for a cause, and looked in the wrong direction.
It did not occur to them that they poisoned their own wells. They
assumed that the sickness was due to a league among the lepers, jealous
of the health and happiness of sound men, and that they insidiously
poured poison into the pits. In 1321, after a great outbreak of the
plague, the citizens complained to the bishop, Durand de S. Pourcain.
Perhaps he shared their conviction, perhaps he sought only to gratify
the people. He swept together all the lepers in the county and burned
them alive.
Le Puy saw the formation of a remarkable confederacy that promised at
first to achieve the liberation of the country from the scourge of the
routiers.
These bands of lawless men, under captains of their own selection,
overran the country, levying blackmail, and pretending that they were
in the service of the English King; or, if it suited them better,
in that of the King of France. They passed from one allegiance to
the other indifferently. Actually they served neither one side nor
the other, but themselves. The merchants were robbed, the farmers
despoiled, towns plundered. Existence became intolerable. Castles
were erected on the top of rocks accessible only by a goat-path, or
by steps cut in the stone, and there nests were built by the robbers
for themselves. In these strongholds the captains and their companies
lived riotously with bold women, sometimes nuns, whom they had carried
off. The routiers held churches in special aversion, and plundered them
without scruple. At their orgies they drank out of chalices, and vested
their harlots in the silks and velvets of ecclesiastical wardrobes.
Such was the condition of affairs when, in 1182, a carpenter of Le Puy,
named Pierre Durand, announced that a paper had fluttered down to him
from heaven bearing on it a likeness of the Blessed Virgin, and that
he had been commanded to found a society to combat and extinguish the
routiers. At first the Bishop of Le Puy looked coldly on the carpenter.
But the man obtained adherents. The need of combination to rid the
country of a general nuisance was so largely felt, that Durand readily
obtained a hearing and enrolled followers. According to the Laon
Chronicle, the carpenter was a tool in the hands of one of the canons,
who got a young man to dress up and pose as an apparition of the Virgin
and so influence Durand. Be that as it may, the movement grew with
rapidity. Durand gave to his adherents a white hood, with a medal to
be worn on the breast, bearing a representation of N. D. du Puy, and
the invocation, "Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world,
grant us Thy peace." Bishop Peter IV., now that the movement promised
to be a success, thought well to assume a lead in it. He had a platform
erected, on which he took his stand along with the carpenter; he
flourished the heaven-sent daub, asserted its genuineness, and exhorted
his hearers to assume the white hood. The growth of the confraternity
was now rapid. Clergy, monks, merchants, farmers, artisans, nobles
joined it. Great armies of these Brethren of Peace marched against the
routiers, defeated them in pitched battles, stormed their castles and
burnt them. After a victory, no quarter was accorded. For the nonce
the freebooters were quelled, and quailed before the people risen in
a body to lynch their tormenters. But the victories they had won, the
applause they had drawn on themselves, made the White Hoods headstrong
and presumptuous. They knew well enough that the routiers only existed
because the princes and nobles were at strife with one another; and
now they pressed on the feudal lords, to insist on the abolition of
private war, and to threaten such as would not submit, with the same
treatment as that dealt out to the routiers. At the same time they
adopted communistic notions, and refused submission to all authorities
save those of their own election. They swarmed over the country and
devoured the produce of the land. They had lost all appetite for
peaceful avocations; and they threatened to become as great a peril as
had been the freebooters. The nobles leagued against them, the royal
forces were set in motion; the White Hoods were defeated and butchered
without compunction, and the society founded for a good purpose came to
an end, and its disappearance gave free scope for the great Companies
to reorganise and resume their depredations.
When the massacre of S. Bartholomew was determined on in 1572, sealed
orders were sent to the Count-Bishop of Le Puy as to all other
governors to order a butchery of the Huguenots. Antoine de S. Nectaire
was bishop at the time. He was the brother of the famous Madelaine
who had been married to Guy de Miremont. Left a widow when young,
beautiful, and rich, she was surrounded by aspirants after her hand.
Madelaine had embraced the reform of Calvin. She enrolled her sixty
lovers in a corps to serve as bodyguard. A word, a look sufficed to
send this enthusiastic corps to smash crucifixes, burn villages, and
storm castles. She rode in armour at the head of her suitors, and of
an army that had gathered about her eager for plunder. She advanced
to the gates of Riom and Clermont at its head, taking fortresses and
burning towns and villages on her way. The King's Lieutenant, the Sieur
de Montal, was routed by her in several encounters, and he, exasperated
at his humiliation, resolved on storming and destroying her castle of
Miremont, to which she had withdrawn. So soon as he appeared before
it, at the head of the royal troops, she issued from the gates, her
visor raised and mounted on a noble steed, sword in hand, followed by
her bodyguard, engaged the lieutenant in single combat and smote him
from his steed. Finally, after an ineffectual siege that lasted forty
days, Madelaine forced the royal host to retire. "Ventre saint gris!"
exclaimed Henry of Navarre, "if I were not king, I would desire to be
Madelaine de Saint Nectaire!" This by the way.
Her brother was Bishop of Le Puy, and by no means inclined to accept
Calvinism. When the order came to him requiring a massacre of the
Huguenots in Le Puy, he called the consuls together, and read to them
the royal letter. "Messieurs," said he, "this concerns only rebels
and disloyal Calvinists, and there are none such here. We read in the
Gospel that the love of God and of our neighbours form the sum of the
Law and the Prophets. Let us live together as a Christian people in all
good charity."
This was excellent. If we knew no more of him than this, we would set
him down as an enlightened prelate and a man of high principle. But
unhappily it is not all.
Next year the Calvinists had entered the Province, and had captured
several places; amongst others Fay-le-Froid. The Bishop at once, with
promptitude, marched thither at the head of five hundred men. He rode a
richly caparisoned mule, clad in black armour, with a gold cross on his
breast, and his arms, five silver spindles on a field azure, emblazoned
on his mantle. He was a magnificent man, ruddy-faced, with bright blue
eyes and a flowing white beard. He was of Herculean strength, and as
canon law forbade a Churchman shedding blood, he bore a heavy club with
which to brain the enemies of the King and of the Church. In his train
were two cannons. As he arrived unexpectedly before Fay-le-Froid, the
town surrendered. He swept the inhabitants and the rebel garrison
together, and hung as many as were involved in the insurrection. "What
a lamentable scene it was," wrote a contemporary author; "poor women
weeping, tearing their hair, pleading for the lives of their husbands,
their brothers, and their friends; but Mgr. de Saint Nectaire would not
so much as vouchsafe them a look."
Then, with the bodies dangling from the gibbets, he had an altar
erected in the public square and a Mass sung, whilst his pikemen
prodded the Calvinists at the proper moment to oblige them to cross
themselves and to kneel.
The Bishop returned to Le Puy highly elated at his success, but his
elation was damped on his arrival by hearing that in the meantime the
Huguenots had captured his castle at Espaly, at the very door of Le
Puy, and were menacing the capital. He made his way in with all speed,
and despatched a courier to the Baron de S. Vidal to come to his aid.
Espaly was then a walled town at the foot of a trap dyke that shoots
above the Borne, and on which stood a castle, the summer residence of
the bishops.
The castle had been erected in the thirteenth century by William de la
Roue, of whose misdeeds I have already told. It was completed by Jean
de Bourbon (1443-85). The part taken by this prelate in the League
of the Public Good brought on Espaly the horrors of a siege. But it
suffered especially in the Wars of Religion. Within thirty years it was
taken and retaken by Huguenots and Catholics eight times.
The story of the last siege is sufficiently curious to be told.
In 1574, Vidal Guyard, a hatmaker of Le Puy, placed himself at the
head of a hundred and twenty Calvinists, and, favoured by the moon,
on the night of January 9th approached Espaly, and by penetrating
into the castle by a drain succeeded in surprising the garrison and
making themselves masters of the place. The news reached Le Puy through
fugitives from the town, and next day the young men of the city, acting
against the advice of the Bishop, determined on retaking the fortress.
A crowd of citizens armed, assumed a white cross on their breasts, and
marched against the place. But heavy rain came on, they were drenched
to the skin, and their powder and courage were damped, so they returned
having effected nothing. The Calvinists now set to work to destroy the
houses in the little town, sparing only such as were redeemed by their
owners with a heavy money payment.
On January 20th the Baron de S. Vidal, whom the Bishop had summoned to
his aid, assembled troops at Le Puy and marched to Espaly, forced his
way into the town, but could effect nothing against the castle, that
was accessible by one path only, cut in the face of the rock. One of
the garrison with his arquebus wounded S. Vidal in the shoulder. After
that they made a sortie and did much execution among the besiegers.
S. Vidal, despairing of reducing the place by force of arms, resolved
on trying negotiation. But Guyard demanded such an exorbitant sum for
its surrender that it was refused. S. Vidal now tried stratagem. He
framed a letter, as from Guyard, addressed to the consuls of Le Puy,
offering to deliver up the castle, his lieutenant Morfouse, and the
garrison, if his own life were spared and he were liberally rewarded.
This letter was smuggled into the fortress, read by Morfouse, and in
a paroxysm of jealousy and alarm he and the rest fell on Guyard and
killed him. Then they entered into communication with S. Vidal, and
surrendered on February 3rd, the day on which the baron received the
news of his nomination by the King to be governor of Le Velay. Le Puy
itself had undergone a siege by the Huguenots twelve years before this.
In 1562 the terrible Baron des Adrets, who was in Dauphiné stamping out
every spark of Catholicism, deputed his lieutenant, Blacons, to secure
Le Puy. Blacons was a man as ruthless as his commander, but without
his military genius. It was settled that Blacons should assemble an
army at Pont-en-Peyrat, a village on the borders of Forez and Velay.
Thither accordingly gathered the Calvinists and a horde of adventurers
thirsting for the pillage of the wealthy city and the shrine of the
Madonna. The consuls of Le Puy sent the brother of their seneschal,
Christopher d'Allègre, with 20,000 livres to treat with Blacons, and
offer this sum if he would divert his column on some other town.
Christopher d'Allègre, who was himself a Calvinist, and had been
selected for the embassy on that ground, pocketed the money without
intimating to Blacons the purpose for which it had been confided to
him, and was instant in urging the Huguenot captain to capture and sack
the city. The consuls, bishop, and chapter met in consultation and
armed all the male inhabitants of the place, and hastily repaired the
fortifications.
On August 4th arrived the citizens of S. Paulien, escaping with their
goods and chatels from the Calvinists with terrible stories of outrage
and murder committed by them. The alarm-bells pealed; a message was
sent to the Viscount Polignac for aid, but he remained inert on the
top of his rock, alleging that he had not a force sufficient at his
disposal to be able materially to assist the citizens.
On the night of the same day the siege began. The Huguenots crossed the
Borne, which was then dry, and planted their cannon. After a steady
bombardment they rushed to the assault, and a desperate struggle
ensued. Towards evening of August 5th the resistance of the citizens
slackened, and the Calvinists pressed on, when a postern was thrown
open and out poured a body of monks and friars variously armed. They
fell upon the enemy in flank and put them to rout. The members of the
monasteries and convents round Le Puy had fled to the city at the
approach of Blacons, and had been clustered on the top of the rock
Corneille watching events. Observing the progress of the Huguenots,
and knowing that if the city fell every one of them would be hung or
hurled down the rock, they had gone to the episcopal armoury and seized
whatever weapons came to hand; and these men determined the fate of the
engagement.
The disconcerted Huguenots retired for the night to Espaly. Next day
they returned to the assault, and planted their cannon on a height
whence they could play on the town. The suburb of Aiguilhe fell into
their hands and was sacked. The hospital and the monasteries were
burnt, the church of S. Laurence and the chapel of S. Michael were
plundered and the carved work mutilated. If the latter escaped better
than the former, it was due to the height at which it stood, and the
danger attending any who climbed aloft to smash the sculptures with
axes and hammers.
On the third day the Calvinists met with no better success. One man
troubled them greatly, an aged hermit from the Mont Denise, who had
been an artillery officer in his younger days. He was now very old
and bent double; but the fire of battle kindled in his veins, and he
undertook the disposition of the artillery and pointed the guns. "That
holy man," says a contemporary historian, "did so well that he killed
more men than did all the arquebusiers together."
The Huguenots lost heart and demanded a parley. They sent Christopher
d'Allègre as their envoy into the city. This man must have been endowed
with considerable effrontery to accept such an office, after having
betrayed and robbed his fellow-citizens. He appeared before the consuls
with a confident air, and demanded that the gates should be thrown open
to Blacons. "How can you suppose," said he, "that we intend harm, we
who are zealous propagators of the Reformed religion and the defenders
of the oppressed? We are incapable of committing acts of violence. We
will not exact of you any contribution, not even food for our men. All
that we seek is to hew in pieces the gods of wood and stone and emblems
that profane the temple of the living God."
But the consuls knew what such protestations were worth, by the
experience of the refugees of S. Paulien, which had offered no
resistance to the Huguenots. They dismissed the envoy, and he returned
to stimulate the investing army to renewed exertions. At once, in a
paroxysm of zeal, the host rushed again to the attack; but the citizens
sallied forth, cut them down, and made many captures.
Next day the consuls and the bishop hoisted flags on every tower, and
minstrels paraded the walls playing lively tunes on hautboys, fifes,
and clarions.
Blacons supposed that they must have received reinforcements. He called
his officers together and said, "See, gentlemen, how the citizens of
Le Puy mock us! Let us chastise them severely for such imprudent and
unseemly mirth." But he could no longer rouse his host to venture
on another assault. His soldiery dispersed over the open country to
sack and burn villages, desecrate churches, and hang such priests as
they could take. They completely wrecked five or six monasteries, the
castles of the bishop, and they set fire to the peasants' harvests, so
that a sheet of flame ran over the country as far as the eye could see.
In a few days the cannon were withdrawn, and not a Calvinist in arms
remained before the walls of Le Puy.
So the city can boast proudly, "Civitus non vincitur, nec vincetur," or
in the words of Odo de Gissey, "Ne fut oncq' surmontée, ni le sera."