THE HUGUENOTS PROPOSE AN ALLIANCE WITH THE SWISS, AND THE MAMELUKES
AMUSE THEMSELVES AT TURIN.
(OCTOBER TO DECEMBER 1518.)
The moment had come when men of decision were about to apply themselves
to the work. The patriots learnt that the encroaching designs of Savoy
were irrevocable, and that it was consequently necessary to oppose them
with an energetic and unbending resistance. Berthelier, ‘the great
despiser of death,’ smiled coldly at the bishop’s threats; magnanimous,
firm, and resolute, he fancied he saw the happy moment approaching
when his fondest dream would be realised--the giving his life to save
Geneva. If he wished to escape from the cruelties of the princes which
threatened him on every side, he must sink himself, retire, give up
his noblest plans: he shrank with horror from the thought. To resist
the conspiracy directed against the liberties of Geneva was his duty;
if he neglected to discharge it, he would degrade himself in his own
eyes, he would expose himself to remorse; while if he accomplished this
task, he would feel himself in his proper place; it seemed to him that
he would become better and more acceptable to God. But it was not only
imperious, invincible duty which impelled him: it was passion, the
noblest of passions; nothing could calm the tempests struggling in
his bosom. He therefore threw himself energetically into the midst of
dangers. In vain did Bonivard show symptoms of discouragement, and say
to his generous friend in their meetings at St. Victor: ‘You see the
pensions and threats of the prince are inducing many reputed sensible
men to _draw in their horns_.’ Bonivard could not check Berthelier’s
decision. Caring for nothing, not even for his life, provided he saved
the liberties of Geneva, the intrepid citizen went through the city,
visiting from house to house, remonstrating with the citizens ‘one by
one;’ exhorting them in private.[176]
His exhortations were not unavailing: a strong fermentation began to
stir men’s minds. They called to remembrance how these Swiss, from whom
they expected deliverance, had conquered their liberty. A hat set up in
Altorf on the top of a pole; an apple placed by a cruel order on the
head of a child: were, according to the old traditions of that people,
the signal of their independence. Was the bastard less tyrannous than
Gessler? Those two heads, those two arms,--were they not a still more
frightful signal? The remains of Navis and of Blanchet were long left
exposed: in vain did the unhappy father, judge Navis, address frequent
and earnest appeals to the bishop to have them removed; the prelate
took delight in this demonstration of his power.[177] It was a strange
blindness on his part. Those dead limbs, those closed eyes, those
blood-stained lips preached to the citizens that it was time to defend
their ancient liberties.... The great agitator took advantage of the
bastard’s cruelty, and employing the energetic language of the times,
he said: ‘The same pin hangs on the cloak of every one of us. We must
resist. Let us unite, let us give our hand to the League, and fear
nothing, for nobody dares touch their allies ... any more than St.
Anthony’s fire.[178] ... Let us help ourselves, and God will help us.’
The young, the poor, all generous hearts listened to Berthelier’s
words; ‘but the great and the rich,’ says Bonivard, ‘were afraid on
account of their riches which they preferred to their life.’[179] These
great and rich folk, Montyon and the ducal faction, seeing the dangers
that threatened the princes of Savoy in Geneva, resolved to send a
second embassy with orders to go this time even to Turin and Pignerol.
The same three mamelukes were intrusted with the mission. The patriots
were indignant: ‘What!’ they said, ‘you want to save the sheep, and yet
select wolves to do it?’--‘Do you not understand,’ replied Montyon,
‘that if you wish to _tame_ princes, you must take care not to send men
who are disagreeable to them?’ The deputation arrived at Turin, where
the duke then was. They demanded an audience to present their homage
to his Highness, and as their sentiments were known, their prayer was
easily granted. They timidly stated their grievances. ‘It was not I
who did it,’ said Charles; ‘it was my lord of Geneva; go to the bishop
at Pignerol.’ The deputation proceeded to this town, situated in the
neighbourhood of the schismatic Waldenses, whom the prelate hated as
much at least as he did the Genevans. Having obtained an audience,
they repeated the lesson they had been taught: ‘The city is much
astonished that you have put two of our citizens to death and sent
their quarters to the frontiers of Geneva. If any private individuals
had offended against you, say our citizens, you had only to accuse
them, they would have been punished at Geneva.’[180]--‘It was not I who
did that,’ said the bishop, ‘it was my lord the duke.’ The mameluke
deputies were strongly inclined to admit one half of the assertion of
the two princes, and to believe that probably the murder came neither
from John nor Charles. The official mission being ended, the prelate,
who knew well with whom he had to deal, gave directions for the
ambassadors to be entertained. The latter desired nothing better. The
bishop ‘accordingly entertained them,’ say the chronicles, ‘treated,
feasted, and made merry with them.’ Pleasure parties followed each
other rapidly, and the three mamelukes, forgetting their diplomatic
business, found the wines of Italy excellent, and the bastard and his
court quite captivating.[181]
All good cheer however comes to an end: the politicians of the court
of Turin wished to profit by the embassy, and, although it had been
directed against the usurpations of the princes of Savoy, to turn it
skilfully against the liberties of the people of Geneva. This was not
difficult, for their representatives were betraying them. The three
ambassadors, the bishop, his officers, and the ducal councillors
deliberated on the answer to be sent to the council of Geneva. The
princes, trusting in their pensioners, despised the liberal party;
but the three envoys, the vidame, Nergaz, and Déléamont, who had seen
the danger closely, far from doing the same, were alarmed at this
carelessness. ‘There are loyal subjects in Geneva,’ they said; ‘but
there are also rascals, rebels and plotters who, in order to escape the
punishment of their misdeeds, urge the people to contract an alliance
with Friburg. The evil is greater than you imagine; the Helvetic
republics will establish their accursed popular government in Geneva.
You must therefore punish very sharply the advisers of such matters,
and crush the rebels.’[182] The two cousins desired nothing better.
Charles had no wish to see liberal principles come nearer to Savoy and
perhaps to Turin; but he preferred making only a verbal answer to the
council. The deputies, alarmed at the responsibility thus laid upon
them, insisted on a written answer, and a letter was accordingly drawn
up. In it the duke and the bishop informed the council ‘that they
would hold them loyal subjects if they would assist in _unhesitatingly
putting to death Berthelier and ten or twelve others_,’ whom they
named. ‘We hand you this letter,’ said the duke and the bishop to the
deputies; ‘but you will not deliver it to the syndics and council
of Geneva unless they promise on their oaths (before reading it) to
execute without delay the orders it contains.’ Never had monarch put
forward such enormous pretensions. God first disorders in mind those
whom He intends to ruin. The servile ambassadors took care to make
no objections, and delighted with the success of their embassy and
particularly with the brilliant fêtes of the court of Turin, they
departed with the strange instructions which the two princes had given
them.[183]
While the mamelukes and Savoyards were conspiring at Turin and Pignerol
against the liberties of the city, Berthelier and his friends were
thinking how to preserve them. The iniquity of the duke and the bishop
showed them more and more every day the necessity of independence.
They resolved to take a decisive step. Berthelier, Bernard, Bonivard,
Lévrier, Vandel, De la Mare, Besançon Hugues, and some others met in
consultation. ‘Hitherto,’ said Berthelier, ‘it is only in parlours
and closets that we have advised an alliance with the Swiss; we must
now proclaim it on the house-tops; simple conversations are no longer
enough: it is time to come to a common decision. But alas! where, when,
and how?... The princes of Savoy have accustomed us to assemble only
for our pleasures. Who ever thinks in our meetings of the safety of the
city?’ Bonivard then began to speak: ‘The house of M. de Gingins and
mine at St. Victor have often seen us assembled in small numbers for
familiar conversation. We now require larger rooms and more numerous
meetings. This is my proposition. Let us employ to do good the same
means as we have hitherto used to do evil. Let us take advantage of
the meetings where until now nothing was thought of but pleasure,
to deliberate henceforth on the maintenance of our liberties.’ This
proposition met with a favourable reception.
Since the murder of Blanchet and Navis, it had become more difficult
to hold these huguenot meetings. The threats of Savoy were such that
men were afraid of everything that might give an excuse for violent
measures. ‘There was in former times at Geneva,’ observed one of the
company, ‘a brotherhood of St. George which is now degenerated but not
destroyed; let us revive it and make use of it; let us employ it to
save the franchises threatened by the Savoy princes.’[184]
Berthelier set to work as soon as the meeting broke up. When he desired
to assemble his friends, he used to pass whistling under their windows.
He began to saunter through the streets with a look of unconcern, but
with his eyes on the watch, and gave a whistle whenever he passed the
house of a devoted citizen. The huguenots listened, recognised the
signal of their chief, came out, and went up to him: a meeting was
appointed for a certain day and hour.
The day arrived. ‘We were about sixty,’ said Bonivard. It was not a
large number, but they were all men of spirit and enterprise. It was
no meeting of conspirators: the worthiest members of the republic had
assembled, who had no intention to go beyond the rights which the
constitution gave them. In fact Berthelier and Besançon Hugues proposed
simply an alliance with the Swiss. ‘This thought is not a fancy sprung
from an empty brain,’ they said; ‘the princes of Savoy force us to it.
By taking away our fairs, by trampling the laws under foot, by breaking
off our relations with other countries, they compel us to unite with
the Swiss.’ When they found Savoy violently breaking the branches of
the tree, and even trying to uproot it, these patriots were determined
to graft it on the old and more vigorous stock of Helvetic liberty.[185]
The rumour of this decision, which they tried however to keep secret,
reached Turin. Nothing in the world could cause more anger and alarm
to the bishop and the duke. They answered immediately, on the 13th
of October, by sending an order to bring Berthelier to trial in the
following month before the episcopal commissioners; this was delivering
him to death. Councillor Marti of Friburg, a blunt man, but also
intelligent, warm, devoted and ready, being informed of what was going
on, hastened to Geneva. The most sacred friendship had been formed
between him and Berthelier when, seated at the same hearth, they
had conversed together about Geneva and liberty. The thought that a
violent death might suddenly carry off a man so dear, disturbed Marti
seriously. He proceeded to the hôtel-de-ville, where the Council of
Fifty had met, and showed at once how full he was of tenderness for
Berthelier, and of anger for his enemies. ‘Sirs,’ he said bluntly,
‘this is the fifth time I have come here about the same business: I
beg that it may be the last. Protect Berthelier as the liberties of
your city require, or beware! Friburg has always desired your good;
do not oblige us to change our opinion.... Do not halt between two
sides: decide for one or the other. The duke and the bishop say one
thing, and they always do another: they think only of destroying your
liberties, and Friburg of defending them.’ The council, who found it
more convenient to give the right hand to one and the left to another,
to keep on good terms with Friburg and the bishop, thought this speech
a little rude. They thanked Marti all the same, but added that, before
giving a decisive answer, they must wait the return of the deputies
sent to the bishop and the duke. ‘Nevertheless,’ added the syndics, ‘as
regards Berthelier we will maintain the liberties of the city.’[186]
The deputies whom they expected from Turin--Nergaz, Déléamont, and the
vidame--soon arrived. When they returned to the free city, they were
still dazzled by the pomp of the Piedmontese court, and filled with the
ideas which the partisans of absolute power had instilled into them.
‘Everything is in the prince,’ they had said, ‘and the people ought
to have no other will but his.’ Thinking only of claiming absolute
authority for the bishop, they appeared on the 29th of November before
the Council of State, and said in an imperative tone: ‘We have orders
from my lord bishop not to discharge our mission until you have added
to your number twenty of the most eminent citizens.’ In this way
the princes of Savoy wished to make sure of a majority. The council
assented to this demand. ‘We require them,’ added Syndic Nergaz, ‘to
make oath in our presence that they will reveal nothing they may
hear.’--‘What means all this mystery?’ the councillors asked each
other; but the oath was taken. The ambassadors then advanced another
step: ‘Here is the letter in which my lord makes known his sovereign
will; but before it is opened, you must all swear to execute the orders
it contains.’ This strange demand was received in sullen silence; such
open despotism astonished not only the friends of liberty but even the
mamelukes. ‘Hand us the letter addressed to us, that we may read it,’
said Besançon Hugues and other independent members of the council.
‘No,’ replied Nergaz, ‘the oath first, and then the letter.’ Some
partisans of Savoy had the impudence to second this demand; but ‘the
friends of independence’ resisted firmly, and the meeting broke up.
‘There must be some secret in that letter dangerous to the people,’
they said. It was resolved to convene the general council in order that
the ambassadors might deliver their message in person. This appeal
to the people was very disagreeable to the three deputies; yet they
encouraged one another to carry out their mission to the end.[187]
On Sunday, December 5, the sound of a trumpet was heard, the great
bell of the cathedral tolled, the citizens put on their swords, and
the large hall of Rive was ‘quite filled with people.’ The deputies
were desired to ‘deliver their message.’--‘Our message is found in the
letter,’ said Nergaz, ‘and our only instructions are that before the
council of Geneva open it, they shall swear to carry out its orders.’
These words caused an immense agitation among the people. ‘We have so
good a leader,’ said they with irony, ‘that we ought to follow him
with our eyes shut and not fear to fall into the ditch with him! How
can we doubt that the secret contained in this mysterious paper is a
secret of justice and love?... If there are any sceptics among us, let
them go to the walnut-tree at the bridge of Arve, where the limbs of
our friends are still hanging.’--‘Gentlemen,’ said the more serious
men, ‘we return you the letter unopened, and beg you will send it back
to those who gave it you.’ Then Nergaz, feeling annoyed, exclaimed
bitterly: ‘I warn you that my lord of Savoy has many troops in the
field, and that if you do not execute the orders contained in this
letter, no citizen of Geneva will be safe in his states. I heard him
say so.’ The people on hearing this were much exasperated. ‘Indeed!’
they exclaimed, ‘if we do not swear beforehand to do a thing without
knowing it, all who possess lands in Savoy or who travel there, will
be treated like Navis and Blanchet.’ ... Thereupon several citizens
turned to the three deputies and said: ‘Have you remained five or six
weeks over the mountains, feasting, amusing yourselves, exulting, and
living merrily, in order to bring us such despatches? To the Rhone
with the traitors! to the Rhone! The three mamelukes trembled before
the anger of the people. Were they really to be flung into the river
to be cleansed from the impurities they had contracted in the fêtes at
Turin?... Lévrier, Besançon Hugues, and other men of condition quieted
the citizens, and the servile deputies got off with their fright. Calm
being restored, the councillors returned the prince’s letter to Nergaz
and his colleagues, saying: ‘We will not open it.’ They feared the
influence of the creatures of Savoy, of whom there were many in the
Great Council. We give this name to the body established in 1457, which
consisted at first of only fifty persons, and which being frequently
increased became somewhat later the Council of Two Hundred. The people
withdrew from this assembly a privilege they had given it in 1502, and
decreed that the general council alone should henceforward decide on
all that concerned the liberties of Geneva.[188]