THE PEOPLE AND THE BISHOP DEFEND THE CAUSE OF THE FUGITIVES.
(DECEMBER 1525 TO FEBRUARY 1526.)
On the 22nd of December, ten days after Charles’s departure, crowds
of citizens poured from every quarter towards the hôtel-de-ville. The
syndics and the council, who were then sitting, were informed that
certain persons desired to be admitted; the doors were opened, and the
petitioners entered. At their head walked John Bandière, a man about
sixty years old, whose son Ami (syndic in the Reformation year) was
among the fugitives. This venerable man advanced, surrounded by the
children of his son and of other exiles.[389] With him came several
citizens who, though they had remained in the background during recent
events, might yet with good right appear in the front line. There was
the amiable Ami Porral, afterwards syndic, who zealously embraced
the evangelical faith; Pierre de Joye, cousin of that De Joye whom
Bishop John had desired to put to death; the bold Robert Vandel,
syndic in 1529, his brother Peter, Sept, De Chapeaurouge, Falquet,
Lect, Delapalud, Malbuisson, Favre, Lullin, Denis Hugues, son of the
estimable Besançon: in short, says a document of the time, about 100
citizens, the flower of Geneva. These men desired not only to bear
testimony in favour of men unjustly accused; but observing that those
to whom the reins of the State had been confided were slumbering, that
the chariot was leaving the track and about to fall into the ditch,
they thought it their duty to set the drivers on the right road.
Bandière, his face wet with tears (says a manuscript), spoke first:
‘Most honourable lords,’ he said, ‘you see these children; do you not
know their fathers? Are not these poor little ones orphans already,
though their fathers are still alive?’[390]--‘Yes,’ exclaimed the
councillors.--‘Those citizens,’ continued Bandière, ‘who, for having
defended the liberties of Geneva, were compelled, through a thousand
dangers, to seek refuge in Germany yonder,[391]--are not they good
men?’ ... ‘They are,’ was the answer. ‘Are they not citizens of this
city--the good men whose fathers, sons, and connections you have before
you?’--It was cheerfully acknowledged.
Having thus the testimony of the council in favour of the refugees--a
testimony of which the Friburg deputy made a note--the venerable
Bandière continued: ‘These refugees, whom you acknowledge to be good
men, are surprised that you should have disavowed them in letters
sent to the League. For this reason, we who are here present declare
boldly that we approve them, both in their words and in their acts, and
count them to be faithful and devoted citizens. At the same time, most
honourable lords, we protest against every encroachment attempted by
a foreign power on the rights of our prince and the liberties of the
city.’
Thus the slumbering Geneva, whom Charles had thought dead, cast off
the bonds with which that prince had bound her, and, rejecting the
duke with one hand, called the fugitives back with the other. Bandière
handed in his declaration in writing, and demanded letters-testimonial.
Syndic Montyon, in great embarrassment, said that it was necessary to
deliberate before answering. ‘Where is the necessity?’ exclaimed the
energetic Robert Vandel.--‘It is not the custom to give testimonials
here,’ was the reply. The huguenot, astonished at this refusal of
a simple receipt, grew impatient, and, turning towards De Sergine,
desired him to draw up the act himself.
The syndics and councillors had not yet remarked this person. ‘Not
imagining they had such a visitor in their house,’ says Bonivard,
‘they looked at him with astonishment.’ Their astonishment increased
when they saw the Friburger rise and say, addressing the whole
assembly: ‘Sirs, do you acknowledge those who are in the country of
the Helvetians to be men worthy of all honour; and do you ratify all
that may be done by them for the welfare of this illustrious city?’ The
syndics and councillors, surprised at this extraordinary question, kept
silent; but all the other citizens present, voting as if in general
council, answered ‘Yes!’ De Sergine, calling the council to witness the
complete approval that had been given the fugitives, withdrew, followed
by the hundred citizens, proud of having made the voice of the people
heard in the very bosom of an enslaved senate.[392]
De Sergine, unwilling to lose a moment, sat down without ceremony on
the steps of the hôtel-de-ville, as might have been done, perhaps,
in the simple republics of antiquity, and prepared to draw up the
letters-testimonial that were required of him. A certain number of
patriots stood around him; others went through the city reporting what
had just taken place. Men rejoiced everywhere; they directed their
steps towards the hôtel-de-ville, remembering that God never forsakes a
people that does not forsake itself. Every minute fresh citizens came
and increased the strange assembly gathered round the notary, and every
new-comer was eager to have his name at the foot of the declaration.
All were speaking and arguing at once; some wept, others laughed;
they felt that a new breath was passing over the city, and that its
ancient liberties were recovering their vitality. All voices united
in proclaiming the praises of the fugitives. ‘Yes, certainly they are
better than us,’ said the crowd, ‘for they have forsaken everything
that our liberties might be preserved.’ For a long time no such
enthusiasm and joy had been witnessed in Geneva; and comparisons were
drawn between this noble assembly, where every one gave his name at
the peril of his life, and that gloomy Council of the Halberds, held
in the duke’s presence: on one side pomp and tyranny; on the other,
simplicity and liberty. Forsaken by the bishop, threatened by the duke,
watched by the Count of Genevois, surrounded by the armed soldiers of
Saleneuve and Balleyson, ever prompt to acts of violence, the citizens
followed each other, from noon until five o’clock, to sign the document
which was to secure their alliance with Switzerland and the triumph of
their liberties.
The mamelukes, however, wishing to stop a movement which threatened
to rob the duke of all his recent advantages, had recourse to secret
practices. Creeping up to some of the patriots of their acquaintance
whom they saw approaching, they would say: ‘Beware! when the duke
returns with his army, he will lay his hand on these testimonials,
he will count the names, he will mark the most guilty with a cross,
and send them to rejoin the shades of Berthelier and Lévrier.’ The
duke had, in truth, his revenge in reserve; but the citizens heeded
it not, and replied to this manœuvre by giving in their names with
greater enthusiasm. The approach of the festivals of Christmas and
of the New Year compelled many to stay in their shops, who were thus
prevented from signing; to provide against which, men went from house
to house, asking who would vote for the alliance with Switzerland.
There were not a hundred persons in Geneva who refused. The protest
of the hôtel-de-ville decided the fate of the city. Many of the first
subscribers were in the number of those who received the Gospel most
gladly. The dawn of the emancipation which was then beginning to
appear, was to be followed by the full light of the Reformation. But
before that glorious day arrived, what struggles, what wars, what
dangers, Geneva would still have to go through![393]
Erelong the movement descended, spreading from the hôtel-de-ville
through all the streets of the city; and to the noble protest of the
principal citizens were added the rejoicings of the young folks and of
the people. The holidays of Christmas and of the New Year had arrived.
The ‘children of Geneva,’ masked or with blackened faces, paraded
the streets to the sound of the drum, singing and shouting all over
the city: ‘Long live the huguenots!’ During this time the citizens
held frequent meetings both by day and by night, at which they boldly
called for the return of the patriots, though they saw the dangers that
would accompany them. Some of the independents visited Switzerland
by stealth, to report all that had taken place and bring back the
fugitives in triumph.
The Savoyard party, who still had the power in their hands, were firmly
resolved not to give it up. The episcopal council sat all night. The
syndics, the vicar, and the vidame in particular, were losing their
heads. To prevent the movement from succeeding, they took useless and
contradictory steps, calculated rather to increase the irritation in
men’s minds: nothing prospered with them. ‘Fancy how surprised they
are,’ wrote the worthy Porral to Hugues. ‘They will go mad, please
God. The vidame is always indoors with the gout; may God keep him
there! They have forbidden the boatmen to ferry anybody over the
water at night.... They are afraid that God will give them what they
deserve.’ The procurator-fiscal issued writs against all who had signed
the protest. ‘If you will not answer according to my pleasure,’ he
said to them, ‘I will force you to speak.’--‘Really,’ said Porral,
who already felt the need of another liberty than political liberty,
‘really, I think that after they have compelled us to deny our parents,
neighbours, and friends, they will constrain us next to deny God
himself.’
Yet, if the party of Savoy appeared ‘sick,’ that of liberty was
still very weak. Both portions of the community turned at the same
time towards the bishop. ‘His authority is in question,’ said
certain patriots; ‘he will side with us against Savoy. Let us summon
him.’--‘The bishop cannot side with rebels,’ said the episcopal council
and the mamelukes; ‘let us hasten his return.’ As the prelate was still
beyond the Alps, the two parties wrote to him, each for itself: ‘Return
speedily; without you we can do nothing.’[394]
This was embarrassing to Pierre de la Baume. On the one hand, he clung
to his principality, and at certain moments he would have withstood
the duke; but on the other hand, he felt himself unable to resist that
prince, and thus he fluctuated perpetually between duty and fear. He
started for Geneva, not knowing what he would do there.
On Thursday, February 1, 1526, one hundred and sixty mounted citizens
rode out of the city to meet the prelate: ‘Why, they are all
huguenots,’ said Biolley, an ardent mameluke and secretary to the
council, as he saw them pass. There was however something else. On
each side of the bishop rode Saleneuve and Balleyson, both devoted
servants of the duke, and Charles, distrusting La Baume, expected that
he would obey them as if they were his guardians. The prelate loved
neither his Highness nor the citizens of Geneva, ‘but only to fill
his purse, that he might empty it afterwards in playing _gaudeamus_,’
says a contemporary. The two chamberlains, however, kept so close to
him that he could not speak freely to anybody. He behaved politely
towards them, and seemed to be their very humble servant; but as soon
as he arrived at the bridge of Arve, where Savoy ended and the Genevese
territory began, the bishop spurred his horse, and rode in front of
his ‘guardians,’ as a sign that he was lord and master. Then assuming
his right position, he obliged them from that moment to speak to him
uncovered.[395]
The Savoyard nobles were determined, however, not to lose their
prey. The next day (February 2), after dinner, as the two guardians
were keeping the bishop ‘at a gaming-table,’ it was whispered him
that Robert Vandel wanted him. Vandel, one of the Genevese liberals,
possessed all his confidence, and the bishop desired much to see
him; but Saleneuve and Balleyson continued their game, and Pierre de
la Baume knew not what to do to escape them. Unable to hold out any
longer, he rose, alleging some very natural pretext, and hastened to
a little room at the back of the house, where Vandel was. ‘Well,
Robert,’ said the prelate rather sharply, ‘they tell me that you
have made a declaration in the city contrary to my authority.’--‘You
have been deceived,’ replied Vandel, who read him the protest of the
hôtel-de-ville. ‘Well, well,’ said the prelate, ‘there is no great harm
in that.’ Vandel then represented to him that if Geneva owed a double
obedience, one to the duke, another to the bishop, as the Council of
Halberds had determined, the first would certainly swallow up the
second. Pierre de la Baume had no doubt of it.--‘There is somebody,’ he
said, lowering his voice, ‘very glad of my coming, but he will be vexed
afterwards.... I will not lose an inch of my jurisdiction, were I to
spend all my property in defending it. I will have no alliance with the
Swiss, however; this I promised the duke.’ Vandel represented to him
that the Genevans sought this alliance only to protect the episcopal
sovereignty against the usurpations of Savoy; and then, knowing the
prelate’s avarice, he added shrewdly: ‘When the alliance with the
Swiss is concluded, we will proceed against the duke’s creatures, we
will confiscate their property, and, my lord ... that will do you no
harm.’--‘What are you saying, Robert?’ Vandel explained his meaning
more fully. Such language moved the bishop to turn round.--‘Really,’
he answered. ‘Well, we will talk more fully about it another time;
for the moment, farewell.’ The converted prelate went back to his two
keepers.[396]
The bishop, won over by Vandel, made many reflections during the night,
and the next day he desired to see the syndics and the council, who
had greatly irritated him by their concessions to the duke. ‘Tell me
how you have been going on since my departure,’ he said mildly, and
then continued sharply: ‘You asked me to join in your appeal to Rome,
and then you withdrew from it without my consent.... This is bad; you
should have done your duty without fear, whatever wrong might be done
you.... I will not give up the appeal; I would rather convene the
people.... God and the world shall be satisfied with me.’ La Baume had
seen the duke in Piedmont. ‘His Highness,’ said he, turning towards
his episcopal council, ‘told me that he meant to have the sovereignty
of Geneva, and asked me for a day to come to an understanding about
it; but I answered immediately that although Pierre de la Baume is
his humble subject, his Highness has no business in my city.... I am
determined to maintain the rights of my church and the liberties of my
city--until death.’ Then turning again to the syndics: ‘As for those
who have retired into Switzerland,’ he said, ‘I hold them to be honest
people, and, saving the alliance, I approve of all they may do.’
On a sudden the bishop asked himself what he should say to the duke
if such language was reported to him.... Startled at his own courage,
he became confused, hesitated, and, speaking low to the first syndic,
he said: ‘I wish you did as they do at Venice. Your council is not
secret; it ought to be so. Understand clearly that I embrace the city
party; but the benefices I possess in his Highness’s states compel me
to do so secretly.... If in any circumstance I seem opposed to your
interests, remember that it is in appearance only.’ At the same time,
the bishop wrote and told the fugitives of his intention to pay all the
expenses which the independence of the city necessitated; but he added:
‘If I write you the contrary, pay no attention to it; I shall do so
only through fear of the duke, and not to make him angry.’ The spirit
of his policy was deception. Such was the last bishop of Geneva.[397]
The annual nomination of the syndics was about to take place, and the
city was in great commotion. Both parties counted on this election:
the mamelukes to establish the duke in Geneva, and the huguenots to
expel him. The great patriots were in exile; victory seemed assured to
the ducals. Yet the timidest even of the huguenots took courage, and
swore to elect ‘honest men who would secure the liberty of the city.’
The general council having assembled on the 4th of February, 1526, the
mameluke syndic Montyon proposed eight candidates, from whom, according
to the order prescribed by the duke, they must elect four syndics. Then
Robert Vandel stood up: ‘I am authorised by the citizens,’ he said to
Montyon, ‘to inform you that they will not be muzzled (_brigidari_).’
Then, turning to the people, he asked: ‘Is it not true?’ All replied:
‘Yes, yes!’ many at the same time calling out ‘Jean Philippe.’ Philippe
was not only not one of the eight, but he was one of the exiles. ‘We
will make Jean Philippe syndic,’ repeated the huguenots, ‘and thus show
that he and the others in Switzerland are good citizens.’ If Besançon
Hugues was not the popular choice, it was probably because the people
were still angry with that noble exile for his refusal in the preceding
year.
At this moment the bishop’s procurator-fiscal Mandalla appeared. La
Baume’s courage was not heroic; he trembled at the idea of a purely
huguenot election, and desired to get a moderate list--half servile,
half liberal--passed. In his name, Mandalla proposed four candidates,
among whom was the traitor Cartelier. ‘That will quiet all angry
feelings,’ said the procurator. It was not a clever manœuvre, for
Cartelier’s name was sufficient to discredit the others.
The polling began. Each man went up to the secretary and gave in his
vote. The most energetic of the two parties counted the votes received.
The procurator-fiscal watched the election with anxiety. Soon, vexed
and dispirited, he ran and told the bishop that the people took no
account of his message.... Pierre de la Baume was frightened. The
zealous fiscal ran again to the polling-place: ‘My lord conjures you,’
he said, ‘at least not to elect Jean Philippe, considering that he is
not in the city.’--‘We will make no choice that will be disagreeable
to the bishop,’ they answered politely, and at the same time continued
giving their votes to the exile. The people of Geneva were determined
to show, in a striking manner, that they were breaking with Savoy and
uniting with Switzerland, and treading boldly in the path of liberty.
The bishop, still more alarmed, finding that his procurator obtained
nothing, sent his vicar to protest, in his name, against so dangerous
an election. ‘It shall be done as our prince pleases,’ said they
courteously; and then, ‘without noise or murmur, were elected four
huguenots. Sire Jean Philippe (they said in the city) received more
votes than any of the others.’ The citizens cared no more for the
bishop than for the duke, when the reestablishment of their liberties
was concerned. The people had never been more united; the opposition
counted only eleven, and after the election everybody declared that
they sided with the majority. They said one to another that a free and
courageous people, if God comes to their aid, can never perish.
Confusion was in the bishop’s palace. As soon as opposition is
made to the duke, said some, revolution breaks its bounds ... this
election must be annulled. The bishop ordered that another general
council should be held on the morrow, and, calculating on his personal
influence, he appeared at it, attended by his councillors and officers;
but the people were deaf, and confirmed Philippe’s election; only they
appointed his brother-in-law (D. Franc) to take his place during his
absence. Not satisfied with this, the people repealed all statutes
contrary to the liberties of Geneva passed under fear of Charles of
Savoy. The bishop, alarmed at these republican proceedings, exclaimed:
‘Is there nobody that wishes to maintain these ordinances?’ No one
answered. Everything fell, and the ancient constitution was restored.
After having changed the laws, they set about changing the persons.
They would have no partisans of Savoy to preserve the liberties of
Geneva. Huguenot councillors were elected in the place of mamelukes.
The restoration of Genevese liberties had been so promptly accomplished
that the ducal faction could not believe their eyes. ‘Our _brewers_
were never more astounded,’ said the huguenots. (The _brewers_ were the
men who _brewed_ or plotted treason.) There were men in the ducal party
who changed their opinions as the wind changes; they were now seen
accosting the patriots and shaking hands with them.... ‘See,’ said the
huguenots, ‘how well they counterfeit the air of good fellowship!’ ...
Then all true friends of their country exclaimed: ‘Let us praise God!
_Laus Deo!_’[398]
Thus did liberty triumph. The Genevese people had restored their
franchises, dismissed the mamelukes, rejected the cruel protectorate of
Charles III., sought the alliance of Switzerland; and after all that,
they gave God the glory.[399]
As the cause of Savoy was lost, the bishop, so long wavering, made a
show of placing himself on the side of the free and the bold. He sent
Pierre Bertholo to carry this important news to Jean Philippe and all
those exiles of whom he was so afraid. The latter had not lost their
time; they endeavoured to enlighten the Swiss, and Hugues continually
argued and repeated that Geneva was not under subjection to the duke.
At this time Bertholo arrived. ‘The ordinances of Savoy are repealed,’
he told the refugees; ‘patriots replace the serviles everywhere, and
one of you has been elected syndic--Jean Philippe!’ They could hardly
believe this news. What! one of these wretched fugitives, of these
_mendicants_ (as their enemies called them), raised by the people
of Geneva to the head of the State!... What a refutation of the
ducal calumnies! But the ‘foreigners’ did not forget themselves in
the joy which this message caused them. Taking Bertholo with them,
they proceeded to the Bernese council, and reported the unexpected
intelligence brought by the messenger. ‘Up to the present time,’ said
the avoyer, ‘I have invited Besançon Hugues alone, as your chief, to
sit down at my side; now, Messire Jean Philippe, take your seat above
Besançon, as syndic of Geneva.’ The alliance would no longer meet with
obstacles. ‘We accept you as fellow-freemen,’ continued the avoyer,
‘without heed to those growlers and their threats, which do not last
long now-a-days.’[400]
The people of Geneva were about to rise, if we may so speak, from the
grave. They had acted with decision, with energy, with unwavering
firmness. They desired to have for their magistrates none but men able
to maintain their laws and independence, and had boldly erased from
the code of the republic all ordinances contrary to the liberties of
Geneva. Accordingly, ‘a person of mark,’ who lived at the beginning
of the seventeenth century, exclaimed, after studying these facts:
‘This history is a marvellous one, and calls to my mind a tract in the
_Philetes_ of Plato, touching the moral good comprised in the three
ideas: _Reality_, _Proportion_, and _Truth_. It is full of the special
marks of the wise and merciful providence of God, who has guided, up
to this present hour, this _ship of his miracles_ through an infinity
of shoals. The more thoroughly we contemplate human action, so much
the deeper appear the counsels of God.’[401] What we are about to see
appears to confirm these words.