CHAPTER XXI.

PARLIAMENT ABOLISHES THE USURPATIONS OF THE POPES IN ENGLAND.

(JANUARY TO MARCH 1534.)

[Sidenote: Cry Against The Papacy.]

While the papacy was intriguing with France and the empire, England was

energetically working at the utter abolition of the Roman

authority.[366] ‘One loud cry must be raised in England against the

papacy,’ said Cromwell to the council. ‘It is time that the question was

laid before the people. Bishops, parsons, curates, priors, abbots, and

preachers of the religious orders should all declare from their pulpits

that the Bishop of Rome, styled the Pope, is subordinate, like the rest

of the bishops, to a general council, and that he has no more rights in

this kingdom than any other foreign bishop.’

It was necessary to pursue the same course abroad. Henry resolved to

send ambassadors to Poland, Hungary, Saxony, Bavaria, Pomerania,

Prussia, Hesse, and other German states, to inform them that he was

touched with the zeal they had shown in defence of the Word of God and

the extirpation of ancient errors, and to acquaint all men that he was

himself ‘utterly determined to reduce the pope’s power _ad justos et

legitimos mediocritatis suæ modos_, to the just and lawful bounds of his

mediocrity.’[367]

He did not stop here. Desiring above all things to withdraw France from

under the influence of Rome, he instructed his ambassadors to tell

Francis I. in his name and in the name of the people: ‘We shall shortly

be able to give unto the pope such a buffet as he never had

before.’[368] This was quite in Henry’s style. ‘Things are going at such

a rate here,’ wrote the Duke of Norfolk to Montmorency, ‘that the pope

will soon lose the obedience of England; and other nations, perceiving

the great fruits, advantage, and profit that will result from it, will

also separate from Rome.’[369]

All this was serious: there was some chance that Norfolk’s prophecy

would be fulfilled. The poor pontiff could think of nothing else, and

began to believe that the idea of a council was not so unreasonable

after all, since the place and time of meeting and mode of proceeding

would lead to endless discussions; and if the meeting ever took place,

he would thus be relieved of a responsibility which became more

oppressive to him every day. He therefore bade Henry VIII. be informed

that he agreed to call a general council. But events had not stood

still; the position was not the same. ‘It is no longer necessary,’ the

king answered coldly. In his opinion, the Church of England was

sufficient of herself, and could do without the Church of Rome.

The King of France, growing alarmed, immediately resumed his part of

mediator. Du Bellay, his ambassador at Rome, made indefatigable efforts

to inspire the consistory with an opinion favorable to Henry VIII.

According to that diplomatist, the King of England was ready to

re-establish friendly relations with Clement VII., and it was parliament

alone that desired to break with the papacy forever: it was the people

who wished for reform, it was the king who opposed it. ‘Make your

choice,’ he exclaimed with eloquence.[370] ‘All that the king desires is

peace with Rome; all that the commonalty demands is war. With whom will

you go—with your enemies or with your friend?’ Du Bellay’s assertions,

though strange, were based upon a truth that cannot be denied. It was

the best of the people who wanted protestantism in England, and not the

king.

[Sidenote: Alarm Of The Court Of Rome.]

The court of Rome felt that the last hour had come, and determined to

despatch to London the papers necessary to reconcile Henry. It was

believed on the Continent that the King of England was going to gain his

cause at last, and people ascribed it to the ascendency of French policy

at Rome since the marriage of Catherine de Medicis with Henry of

Orleans. But the more the French triumphed, the more indignant became

the Imperialists. To no purpose did the pope say to them: ‘You do not

understand the state of affairs: the thing is done.... The King of

England is married to Anne Boleyn. If I annulled the marriage, who would

undertake to execute my sentence?’—‘Who?’ exclaimed the ambassadors of

Charles V., ‘who?... The emperor.’[371] The weak pontiff knew not which

way to turn: he had but one hope left—if Henry VIII., as he expected,

should re-establish catholicism in his kingdom, a fact so important

would silence Charles V.

This fact was not to be feared: a movement had begun in the minds of the

people of Great Britain which it was no longer possible to stop. While

many pious souls received the Word of God in their hearts, the king and

the most enlightened part of the nation were agreed to put an end to the

intolerable usurpations of the Roman pontiff. ‘We have looked in the

Holy Scriptures for the rights of the papacy,’ said the members of the

Commons house of parliament, ‘but, instead of finding therein the

institution of popes, we have found that of kings—and, according to

God’s commandments, the priests ought to be subject to them as much as

the laity.’—‘We have reflected upon the wants of the realm,’ said the

royal council, ‘and have come to the conclusion, that the nation ought

to form one body; that one body can have but one head, and that head

must be the king.’ The parliament which met in January, 1534, was to

give the death-blow to the supremacy of the pope.

This blow came strictly neither from Henry nor from Cranmer, but from

Thomas Cromwell.[372] Without possessing Cranmer’s lively faith,

Cromwell desired that the preachers should open the Word of God and

preach it ‘with pure sincereness’ before the people,[373] and he

afterwards procured from every Englishman the right to read it. Being

pre-eminently a statesman of sure judgment and energetic action, he was

in advance of his generation; and it was his fate, like those generals

who march boldly at the head of the army, to procure victory to the

cause for which he fought; but, persecuted by the traitors concealed

among his soldiers, to be sacrificed by the prince he had served, and to

meet a tragical death before the hour of his triumph.

The Commons, wishing to put an end to the persecutions practised by the

clergy against the evangelical Christians, summoned—it was a thing

unprecedented[374]—the Lord-bishop of London to appear at their bar to

answer the complaint made against him by Thomas Philips, one of the

disciples of the Reformation. The latter had been lying in prison three

years under a charge of heresy. The parliament, unwilling that a bishop

should be able at his own fancy to transform one of his Majesty’s

subjects into a heretic, brought in a bill for the repression of

doctrines condemned by the Church. They declared that, the authority of

the Bishop of Rome being opposed to Holy Scripture and the laws of the

realm, the words and acts that were contrary to the decisions of the

pontiff could not be regarded as heresies. Then turning to the

particular case which had given rise to the grievance, parliament

declared Philips innocent and discharged him from prison.

After having thus upheld the cause of religious liberty, the Commons

proceeded to the definitive abolition of the privileges which the

bishops of Rome had successively usurped to the great detriment of both

Church and people. They restored to England the rights of which Rome had

despoiled her. They prohibited all appeals to the pope, of what kind

soever they might be,[375] and substituted for them an appeal to the

king in chancery. They voted that the election of bishops did not

concern the court of Rome, but belonged to the chief ecclesiastical body

in the diocese, to the chapter ... at least in appearance; for it really

appertained to the crown, the king designating the person whom the

chapter was to elect. This strange constitution was abolished under

Edward VI., when the nomination of the bishops was conferred purely and

simply on the king. If this was not better, it was at least more

sincere; but the singular _congé d’élire_ was restored under Elizabeth.

[Sidenote: Complaint Of Romish Exactions.]

At the same time new and loud complaints of the Romish exactions were

heard in parliament. ‘For centuries the Roman bishops have been

deceiving us,’ said the eloquent speakers, ‘making us believe that they

have the power of dispensing with everything, even with God’s

commandments. We send to Rome the treasures of England, and Rome sends

us back in return ... a piece of paper. The monster which has fattened

on the substance of our people bears a hundred different names. They

call it reliefs, dues, pensions, provisions, procurations, delegation,

rescript, appeal, abolition, rehabilitation, relaxation of canonical

penalties, licenses, Peter’s pence, and many other names besides. And

after having thus caught our money by all sorts of tricks, the Romans

laugh at us in their sleeves.’ Parliament forbade everybody, even the

king himself,[376] to apply to Rome for any dispensation or delegation

whatsoever, and ordered them, in case of need, to have recourse to the

Archbishop of Canterbury. Then, immediately putting these principles

into practice, they declared the king’s marriage with Catherine to be

null, for ‘no man has power to dispense with God’s laws,’[377] and

ratified the marriage between Henry and Anne, proclaiming their children

heirs to the crown. At the same time, wishing England to become entirely

English, they deprived two Italians, Campeggi and Ghinucci, of the sees

of Salisbury and Worcester, which they held.

It was during the month of March, 1534—an important date for

England—that the main branches of the tree of popery were thus lopped

off one after another. The trunk indeed remained, although stripped; but

yet a few months, and that too was to strew the earth with its fall.

Still the Commons showed a certain degree of consideration. When Clement

had threatened the king with excommunication, he had given him three

months’ grace; England, desiring to return his politeness, informed the

pope that he might receive some compensation. At the same time she made

an important declaration: ‘We do not separate from the Christian

Church,’ said the Commons, ‘but merely from the usurped authority of the

Pope of Rome; and we preserve the catholic faith, as _it is set forth in

the Holy Scriptures_.’ All these reforms were effected with great

unanimity, at least in appearance. The bishops, even the most

scholastic, such as Stokesley of London, Tonstal of Durham, Gardiner of

Winchester, and Rowland Lee of Coventry, declared the Roman papacy to be

of human invention, and that the pope was, in regard to them, only a

_bishop_, a _brother_, as his predecessors had been to the bishops of

antiquity.[378] Every Sunday during the cessation of parliament a

prelate preached at St. Paul’s Cross ‘that the pope was not the head of

the Church,’ and all the people said AMEN.

Meanwhile Du Bellay, the French ambassador at Rome, was waiting for the

act by which the King of England was to bind himself once more to the

pope—an act which Francis I. still gave him reason to expect. Every

morning he fancied it would arrive, and every evening his expectations

were disappointed. He called upon the English envoys, and afterwards at

the Roman chancery, to hear if there was any news; but everywhere the

answer was the same—nothing.

[Sidenote: Henry’s Condemnation.]

The term fixed by Clement VII. having elapsed, he summoned the

consistory for Monday the 23d of March. Du Bellay attended it, still

hoping to prevent anything being done that might separate England from

the papacy. The cardinals represented to him, that as the submission of

Henry VIII. had not arrived, nothing remained but for the pope to

fulminate the sentence. ‘Do you not know,’ exclaimed Du Bellay, in

alarm, ‘that the courier charged with that prince’s despatches has seas

to cross, and the winds may be contrary? The King of England waited your

decision for six years, and cannot you wait six days?’[379] ‘Delay is

quite useless,’ said a cardinal of the imperial faction; ‘we know what

is taking place in England. Instead of thinking of reparation, the king

is widening the schism every day. He goes so far as to permit the

representation of dramas at his court, in which the holy conclave, and

some of your most illustrious selves in particular, are held up to

ridicule.’ The last blow, although a heavy one, was unnecessary. The

priests could no longer contain their vexation; the rebellious prince

must be punished. Nineteen out of twenty-two cardinals voted against

Henry VIII.; the remaining three only asked for further enquiry. Clement

could not conceal his surprise and annoyance. To no purpose did he

demand another meeting, in conformity with the custom which requires

two, and even three consultations:[380] overwhelmed by an imposing and

unexpected majority, he gave way.

[Sidenote: The Pope’s Disquietude.]

Simonetta then handed him the sentence, which the unhappy pope took and

read with the voice of a criminal rather than of a judge. ‘Having

invoked the name of Christ, and sitting on the throne of justice,[381]

we decree that the marriage between Catherine of Aragon and Henry, King

of England was and is valid and canonical; that the said King Henry is

bound to cohabit with the said queen; to pay her royal honors; and that

he must be constrained to discharge these duties.’ After pronouncing

these words the poor pontiff, alarmed at the bold act he had just

performed, turned to the envoys of Charles V. and said to them: ‘I have

done my duty; it is now for the emperor to do his, and to carry the

sentence into execution.’ ‘The emperor will not hold back,’ answered the

ambassadors; but the thing was not so easily done as said.

Thus the great affair was ended; the King of England was condemned. It

was dark when the pope quitted the consistory; the news so long expected

spread immediately through the city; the emperor’s partisans,

transported with joy, lit bonfires in all the open places, and cannons

fired repeated salvoes. Bands of Ghibelines paraded the streets,

shouting, _Imperio e Espagna_ (the Empire and Spain). The whole city was

in commotion. The pope’s disquietude was still further increased by

these demonstrations. ‘He is tormented,’ wrote Du Bellay to his master.

Clement spent the whole night in conversation with his theologians.

‘What must be done? England is lost to us. Oh! how can I avert the

king’s anger?’ Clement VII. never recovered from this blow; the thought

that under his pontificate Rome lost England made him shudder. The

slightest mention of it renewed his anguish, and sorrow soon brought him

to the tomb.

Yet he did not know all. The evil with which Rome was threatened was

greater than he had imagined. If in this matter there had been nothing

more than the decision of a prince discontented with the court of Rome,

a contrary decision of one of his successors might again place England

under the dominion of the pontiffs; and these would be sure to spare no

pains to recover the good graces of the English kings. But in despite of

Henry VIII., a pure doctrine, similar to that of the apostolic times,

was spreading over the different parts of the nation; a doctrine which

was not only to wrest England from the pope, but to establish in that

island a true Christianity—a vast evangelical propaganda which should

plant the standard of God’s word even at the ends of the world. The

empire of Christendom was thus to be taken from a church led astray by

pride, and which bade mankind unite with it that they might be saved;

and to be given to those who taught that, according to the divine

declarations, none could be saved except by uniting with Jesus Christ.

Footnote 366:

_State Papers_ (Henry VIII.), t. vii. p. 526.

Footnote 367:

Burnet, _Records_, iii. p. 69.

Footnote 368:

_State Papers_, vol. vii. p. 526.

Footnote 369:

Le Grand, _Preuves_, p. 591.

Footnote 370:

‘He eloquently declared our king’s message.’—Lord Herbert, _Life of

Henry VIII._ p. 396, fol.

Footnote 371:

‘That the emperor would be the executor.’—Ibid. p. 553.

Footnote 372:

For Cromwell’s early history, see the _History of the Reformation_,

vol. v. bk. xx. ch. xiv.

Footnote 373:

Lord Cromwell to Parker.

Footnote 374:

‘Not fit for any of the Peers to appear and answer at the bar of the

House of Commons.’—Collyers, ii. p. 83.

Footnote 375:

Collyers, ii. p. 84.

Footnote 376:

‘Neither the king, his successor, nor his subjects to apply to the see

of Rome.’—Collyers, ii. p. 84.

Footnote 377:

Ibid. p. 85.

Footnote 378:

‘Solum Romanum episcopum et fratrem, ut primis episcopis mos

erat.’—Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 782.

Footnote 379:

Herbert, _Life of Henry VIII._ p. 396. Burnet, _Hist. Ref._ i. p. 131.

Footnote 380:

‘What could not be done in less than three consistories, was now

despatched in one.’—_Herbert_, p. 397.

Footnote 381:

‘Christi nomine invocato, in throno justitiæ pro tribunali

sedentes.’—Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 657.

BOOK VII.

MOVEMENTS OF THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND, AT GENEVA, IN FRANCE, GERMANY,

AND ITALY.

CHAPTER I.

THE BISHOP ESCAPES FROM GENEVA, NEVER TO RETURN.

(JULY 1533.)

[Sidenote: Spirit Of The Times.]

We have seen the Reformation advancing in the bosom of a great nation;

we shall now see it making progress in one of the smallest. The fall of

Wolsey in England and the flight of the bishop-prince from Geneva are

two historical dates which bear a certain resemblance. After the

disappearance of these two prelates, there was a forward movement in

men’s minds, and the Reformation advanced with more decided steps. Those

two countries are now, as regards their importance, at the two extreme

points in the line of nations; but in the sixteenth century the humble

city of the Leman played a more important part in the Church of Christ

than the mighty England. Calvin and his school did more than the Tudors,

the Stuarts, and their divines, to check the reaction of the papacy and

secure the triumph of true Christianity. The sixteenth and seventeenth

centuries have proclaimed Geneva the antagonist of Rome; and, in truth,

the petty band which marched under its banner, held their ground for

nearly two centuries against the powerful and well-disciplined army of

the Roman pontiffs. We have not forgotten Wittemberg, we shall not

forget Geneva. The historian is not allowed to pass by the little ones

who have had their share in the developments of the human mind. To those

who repose beneath the healthful shade of the great Gospel oak, and

under its green boughs, we must relate the story of the acorn from which

it sprang. The man who despises humble things cannot understand great

things. ‘The Lord,’ says Calvin, ‘purposely made his kingdom to have

small and lowly beginnings, in order that his divine power should be

better known, when we see a progress that had never been expected.’

* * * * *

On the 1st of July, 1533, the Bishop of Geneva had returned to his city

with the aid of the priests, the catholics, the Friburgers, and the

‘mamelukes,’ with the intention of ‘burying that sect,’ as he called the

Reformation. Many of the most devoted friends of the Gospel were in

exile or in the episcopal prison; hostile bands appeared in the

neighborhood of the city, and all expected a victory of the Roman party.

The tree was about to be violently uptorn before it had given any shade.

But when God has placed a germ of religious, or even of political, life

among a people, that life triumphs despite all the opposition of men.

There are rocks and mountains which seem as if they would stop the

course of the mighty waters, and yet the rivers still run on their way.

The exasperated Pierre de la Baume chafed in Geneva, and beat the earth

as if to crush reform and liberty beneath his feet; but by so doing he

opened a gulf, in which were swallowed up his rights as a prince, his

privileges as a bishop, taxes, revenue, priests, monks, mitres, images,

altars, and all the religion of the Roman pontiffs.

If the bishop was uneasy, the people were uneasy likewise. It was not

only strong men who spoke against the abuses of the papacy, but even

women extolled the prerogatives of the evangelical faith. One day (in

June or July, 1533) there was a large party at one of their houses, and

two gentlemen of the neighboring district, Sire de Simieux and M. de

Flacien, ‘besides seven or eight of their varlets,’ were invited. In

their presence the wife of Baudichon de la Maisonneuve professed the

evangelical truth. De Simieux having reproved the Genevese lady, ‘It is

very clear you are a good Papist,’ said she. ‘And that you are a good

Lutheran,’ retorted De Simieux. ‘Would to God,’ exclaimed the lady,

‘that we were all so, for it is a good thing and a good law!’[382] The

two gentlemen had had enough; they took leave of the ladies, and their

eight ‘varlets’ followed them. Another incident will still better show

the spirit of the times.

An evangelical named Curtet had just been murdered. Many huguenots

thought it strange that, while their adversaries struck down a man,—a

real image of God,—they must respect images made of wood, canvas, or

stone. There was a deservedly celebrated place in Geneva, formerly

occupied by the castle of Gondebaud, King of Burgundy, whence his niece

Clotilda, one day escaped to marry and convert Clovis. It was a very

ancient arcade, only pulled down within these few years,[383] and known

as the _Porte du Château_ (the castle gate). Near this place stood an

image of the Virgin, an object of great veneration.[384] On the 12th of

July, 1533, some ‘Lutherans,’ believing it to be blasphemy against God

to regard the Virgin as ‘the salvation of the world,’ went to the gate,

carried away the image, broke it to pieces, and burnt it.

The bishop, feeling that such men as these were capable of anything,

resolved to put the imprisoned huguenots beyond their reach. A report

soon spread abroad that he was secretly preparing boats to convey the

prisoners during the night to Friburg or the castle of Chillon, ‘there

to do his pleasure on them.’[385] All the huguenot population was in

commotion; each man shouldered his arquebuse and joined his company;

Philip, the captain-general, ordered the approaches to the lake to be

guarded, so as to prevent the captive citizens from being conveyed

elsewhere.

[Sidenote: Uneasiness In The City.]

The noble enthusiasm which the Reformation kindles in the soul uplifts a

man; while the philosophic indifference of scholars and priests serves

but to degrade him. The Genevans, filled with love for justice and

liberty, were ready to risk all that they held most dear in order to

prevent innocent citizens from being unjustly condemned, and a prelate

sent by the pope from usurping rights which belonged to the magistrates

elected by the people. An extraordinary agitation prevailed in men’s

minds, and several huguenots proceeded to the shore of the lake. Pierre

Verne, taking advantage of the darkness, got into the boats fastened to

the bank, and cut the mooring-ropes as well as the cords to which the

oars were lashed, so that they were made unserviceable.[386] Numerous

patrols traversed the streets, the armed men being accompanied by

citizens, both young and old, carrying _montres de feu_, that is, rods

tipped with iron, having several lighted matches or port-fires at the

end, which were used at that time to discharge the arquebuses. The

dreaded hour when the evil use which princes make of their power

accelerates their ruin, had arrived at last for the Bishop of Geneva. De

la Baume and his partisans, who watched from their windows the passage

of these excited bands, were surprised at the number of arquebusiers

with which the city was suddenly thronged. ‘They were informed that for

each arquebusier there were three or four match-men, which caused great

alarm to those in the palace.’ A comet that appeared during the month of

July alarmed them still more.[387] As yet the huguenots wanted a man to

lead the way; they were to find him in Baudichon de la Maisonneuve.

The Lutheranism of that citizen was of old date. He was a great friend

of John Lullin, who possessed, it will be remembered, the hostelry of

the Bear, at that time much frequented by German traders, who were, for

the most part, Lutherans. Some Nuremburg merchants of the name of Toquer

arrived there during the Lent of 1526.[388] De la Maisonneuve, who had

much business with Germany, went often to see them, ‘eating and drinking

with them.’ Their conversation was very animated, and usually turned

upon religion. As early as 1523 the traders of Nuremburg had heard the

Gospel from the mouth of Osiander, and they endeavored to propagate it

wherever they went. Their words struck De la Maisonneuve all the more

‘because at that time there was no mention of Lutheranism in Geneva, or

next to none, at least.’[389] There was at that time in Lullin’s service

a young man of Lyons, named Jean Demai, about twenty-five years of age,

and very attached to the Roman Church. While waiting at table, he

listened attentively to the conversation between Baudichon and the

Germans, and kept it in his memory. The daring Genevese did not restrain

himself, and said, sometimes at dinner, sometimes at supper,[390] ‘God

did not ordain Lent. It is mere folly to confess to the priests, for

they cannot absolve you. It is an abuse to go to mass. All the religious

orders, mendicants, and others, are nonsense.’ ‘What, then, will you do

with the monks?’ asked one of the party. ‘Set them all to till the

earth,’ he replied. ‘If you say such things,’ observed a catholic, ‘the

Church will refuse you burial.’ ‘When I die,’ he answered, ‘I will have

no preaching at my funeral, and no bells tolled; I will be buried

wherever I please.’[391] Baudichon’s remarks were not kept within the

walls of the hostelry of the Bear. Before long they were repeated

throughout the city and neighborhood. ‘That man,’ said many, ‘is one of

the principal Lutherans and in the front rank of those who set them

going.’[392] That is what he was about to do.

[Sidenote: Baudichon Recovers The Prisoners.]

On the 12th of July, 1533, Baudichon had passed the day in the country,

making preparations for the harvest. Returning from the fields at night,

he was surprised to see an extraordinary guard at the city gate, and on

asking what it meant, he was told that the episcopalians were going to

convey the prisoners to some place of strength. Immediately he

determined to compel the bishop—but solely through fear—to follow the

course prescribed by the laws. He desired fifty of the most resolute of

his friends to take each an iron-tipped staff and to place five matches

at the end. He then concealed them all in a house not far from the

palace. Ere long darkness covered the city; there was nobody in the

streets except a few patrols. De la Maisonneuve bade the men of his

troop light their matches, and put himself at their head. In their left

hands they held the staff, and the sword in their right. Entering the

palace, and making their way to the prince’s apartment, they appeared

before him, surrounded him with their two hundred and fifty lights; and

Baudichon, acting as spokesman, called upon him to surrender his

prisoners to their lawful judges. The bishop stared with amazement at

this band of men with their swords and flaming torches; the night season

added to his terror, and he thought that if he did not give way he would

be put to death. Baudichon had no such idea; but Pierre de la Baume,

imagining his last hour had come,[393] gave the required order. Upon

which the troop defiled before him with their port-fires, and quitted

the episcopal palace. The huguenot prisoners having been transferred to

the syndics, the latter intrusted them to the gaoler of the same prison

‘to keep them securely under pain of death.’ They had passed from the

arbitrary power of the bishop to the lawful authority of the councils.

Constitutional order was restored.[394]

The bishop passed a very agitated night. The huguenots and the torches

and the swords with which he had been surrounded would not let him

sleep; and, when daylight came, he, as well as his courtiers, was quite

unmanned. The 13th of July fell on Sunday, and what a Sunday! ‘I shall

leave the city,’ the prelate said to his servants. A rumor of his

approaching departure having got abroad, some of the canons hurried to

the palace to dissuade him. ‘I will go,’ he repeated. To no effect did

his followers represent to him that, if he left, the catholic faith, the

episcopate, the authority of the prince, his revenues, would all be

lost; nothing could shake him. He was determined to go. A Thomas à

Becket would have died on the spot; but Pierre de la Baume, says a

contemporary document, ‘was very warm about his own safety, but more

than cold for the church.’[395]

One thought, however, disturbed the timid bishop; and the proceedings of

the syndics, Du Crest and Coquet, who came to beg him not to desert the

city and his flock, served but to increase his distress. If the

huguenots knew of his departure, he thought they might possibly stop him

and bring him back to the palace. He dreamt of nothing but persecution;

he saw nothing but prisons, swords, and corpses. He made up his mind to

deceive the syndics, and assured them he would return in six weeks

without fail; but he promised himself that Geneva should never see him

again. He then asked the magistrates for six score of arquebusiers to

protect his departure the next morning.

The syndics having determined to convene the council, the ushers went

round the city and roused the councillors from their beds. Geneva

desired to keep her bishop, while the bishop wished to desert her. The

council ordered that next morning at daybreak, for fear the prelate

should leave early, the syndics should go and point out the necessity

for his remaining.[396]

[Sidenote: The Bishop Anxious To Leave.]

The syndics had scarcely left him when he fell into fresh terrors. He

thought that the mustering of six-score arquebusiers would spread abroad

the news of his departure, that the huguenots would rush to arms, that

he would find himself between two parties armed with spears and

arquebuses.... He must make haste and depart alone, by night or at peep

of day, without any parade, before the syndics could have time to

assemble the council, which, he fancied, could not meet before the

morrow. No one slept in the palace that night; all were busy preparing

for the departure, and they took care that nothing should betray to the

outside the agitation that reigned within. That was a terrible night.

Two spectres appeared to the bishop and dismayed him—the Gospel and

liberty. He saw no means of escaping them but flight. But what would the

duke and the pope say? To quiet his conscience, he wrote, at the last

moment, a letter to the council, in which he enjoined them to oppose the

evangelical meetings, and to maintain the Romish religion ‘_mordicus_,

tooth and nail.’

Daylight would soon appear; they were dejected in the palace, but

everything was ready for flight. At that moment there was a knocking at

the gate.... It was the four syndics; the bishop was a few minutes too

late.... The syndics entered, and conjured Pierre de la Baume in the

name of peace, country, and religion. They pointed out to him the

consequences of his departure; the monarchical power crumbling away, the

republic rising upon its ruins, the Church of Rome disappearing, and

that of the innovators taking shape....

But nothing could move the bishop; he remained insensible as a statue.

They next entreated him to leave the state affairs in order; to appoint,

during his absence, a vicar, an official, a judge of appeal. Pierre de

la Baume refused everything. One only thought filled his mind—he wanted

to get away. ‘Alas!’ said the moderate catholics, ‘he does not set the

state in order, and as for the church over which he is pastor ... he

abandons his flock.’[397] When the syndics had withdrawn, he gave the

signal for departure. There was not a moment to lose, he thought; it

will soon be broad daylight, and who knows but the magistrates, who set

so much upon his presence, may give orders to stop him. Let every man do

his duty! Let there not be a minute’s delay! The bishop took care not to

leave the palace either by the principal entrance or by the ordinary

gates of the city. In the vaults of the building was a passage which led

to an unfrequented street—the Rue du Boule, now the Rue de la Fontaine.

By following this street, the bishop could reach a secret postern in the

wall of the city, which Froment calls _la fausse porte du sel_. Then

Pierre de la Baume would be outside of Geneva; then he would be safe.

Accordingly the bishop quitted his apartments, descended to the basement

of the palace, and made his escape from that edifice (which is now a

prison) like a malefactor escaping from his dungeon. His officers were

downcast; they would have wished to crush those insolent huguenots, but

were obliged to leave them a clear field. The bishop himself, forced to

quit his palace and his power, felt great vexation.[398] He looked about

him with uneasiness, and trembled lest he should see the huguenots

appear at the corner of the street. The encroachments he had made on the

liberties of the citizens were not of a nature to tranquillize him, and

in his distress he quickened his steps.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s Departure.]

The fugitive band reached the secret postern; the prelate had the key;

he passed through and stood on the shore of the lake. There was no enemy

in sight. He entered a boat which had been got ready for him, and

reached the other bank. He sprang immediately upon the horse that was

waiting for him, and rode off at a gallop. He felt the weight upon his

heart grow lighter the farther he went. Now the fierce huguenots will

trouble him no more, and he will ‘make good cheer.’ ‘He retired to the

Tower of May,’ says the chronicle, ‘and never returned again.’[399]

Baudichon de la Maisonneuve had succeeded beyond his expectations. Not

only had the prisoners been rescued from the unlawful power of the

bishop, but the prelate himself had disappeared. A few huguenots, waving

their _montres de feu_, had been sufficient to deliver Geneva. Not a

drop of blood had been shed. ‘As at the sound of the trumpets of Gideon,

and at the sight of his lamps,’ said the evangelists, ‘the Amalekites

and the Midianites fled during the night, so did the bishop and his

followers flee away at the sound of the arms and at the sight of the

fire.’[400]

Early in the morning of the 14th of July, the news of the bishop’s

departure circulated through the city. The catholic members of the

council, deserted by a perjured prince, felt themselves unable

henceforth to oppose the torrent which was advancing with irresistible

power. ‘All the catholics,’ says Sister Jeanne, ‘were sorely grieved.’

The pope blamed the bishop for abandoning his church, and reproached him

for his cowardice.[401] ‘That miserable city, having lost its prince and

pastor,’ said people in Italy, ‘will become the asylum of every villain

and the throne of heresy.’[402] But what caused so much sorrow to the

papists was the source of immense joy to the evangelicals. They

contended that the prince by running away abdicated his usurped power,

and that the citizens resumed their rights.[403] The sun of Geneva was

setting, according to the old style (that of the Roman court); but

according to the new (that of the Gospel), it was rising; and Geneva,

illumined by its rays, was to communicate that divine light to others.

The 14th of July, 1533, witnessed in Geneva the fall of that hybrid

power[404] which claims to hold two swords in its hand. Since then other

bishop-kings have also disappeared, even in the most catholic countries;

and the last, that of Rome, totters on his pedestal. The people of

Geneva, from the time when they lost sight of that shameless and

pitiless prelate, ceased to care about him, and never asked after him.

They even invented a by-word, in use to this day; and when they wish to

speak of a man for whom they feel a thorough indifference, they say: _Je

ne m’en soucie pas plus que de Baume_ (I do not care a straw about

him).[405]

Footnote 382:

‘Une bonne chose et une bonne loi.’ MS. du procès inquisitionnel de

Lyon (Archives de Berne), pp. 200-202.

Footnote 383:

About 1836.

Footnote 384:

Registre du Conseil, _ad locum_.

Footnote 385:

‘Et illic en faire à son plaisir.’

Footnote 386:

‘Ni tirer ni nager’ (neither pull nor steer), alluding to the peculiar

mode of rowing employed on the lake.

Footnote 387:

Berne MSS., _Hist. Helvet._ v. p. 125.

Footnote 388:

‘About eight years ago,’ says an authority of 1534 (MS. du procès

inquisitionel de Lyon). The reading of the MS. is _Toquer_, which is

probably not the correct spelling of the German name.

Footnote 389:

‘Ou du moins était-ce comme rien.’

Footnote 390:

‘Soit en dînant, soit en soupant.’—_MS. de Lyon._

Footnote 391:

MS. du procès de Lyon, pp. 294-297.

Footnote 392:

‘Les mettent en train.’—MS. du procès de Lyon, p. 185.

Footnote 393:

Sœur Jeanne. _Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 68.

Footnote 394:

Registres du Conseil des 10, 11, 12 Juillet. Froment, _Gestes de

Genève_, pp. 62, 63. Roset MS.

Footnote 395:

‘Fort échauffé pour sa propre personne, plus que froid pour

l’église.’—Registre du Conseil du 13 Juillet; Froment, _Gestes de

Genève_, p. 63, Berne MS.

Footnote 396:

Registre du Conseil du 13 Juillet 1533.

Footnote 397:

Le Curé Besson: _Mémoires pour l’Histoire Ecclésiastique du Diocèse de

Genève_, p. 63.

Footnote 398:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 63.

Footnote 399:

Roset MS.

Footnote 400:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 62, 63.

Footnote 401:

Le Curé Besson, _Mémoires pour l’Histoire Ecclésiastique du Diocèse de

Genève_, p. 63.

Footnote 402:

Briève Relation de la Révolte de la Ville de Genève. MS. in the

Archives Générales du Royaume d’Italie, paquet 14.

Footnote 403:

Letter to Lord Townsend, by the Secretary of State Chouet. Berne MSS.

vi. 57.

Footnote 404:

It was also on the 14th of July, two centuries and a half later

(1789), that the reign of the feudal system came to an end.

Footnote 405:

‘I care no more for him than for Baume,’ that is, _not at all_. This

expression owes its origin to the name of La Baume, last bishop of

Geneva. _Glossaires Genevois_ de Gaudy et de J. Humbert.

CHAPTER II.

TWO REFORMERS AND A DOMINICAN IN GENEVA.

(JULY TO DECEMBER 1533.)

The bishop had fallen from his throne, and with him had expired a

despotism which offensively usurped the liberties of the people; the

lawful magistrates once more sat in their curule chairs, with liberty

and justice at their sides. They investigated the cases of the citizens

whom Pierre de la Baume claimed to get rid of without the formality of

trial. The only man who could be accused of Wernly’s death was Pierre

l’Hoste, and he had taken refuge in the Dominican church, where the

bishop had not cared to follow him. The syndics went to the church; the

poor wretch, shaking in every limb, clung vainly to the altar, and cried

out: ‘I claim the privileges accorded to this sanctuary.’ He was

arrested and the inquiry commenced. It proved the innocence of the

imprisoned Huguenots, and showed that the disturbance in which Wernly

fell had been caused by the violence of the canon himself, who was armed

from head to foot, and had taunted his adversaries with loud cries. The

magistrates, however, thought that the blood of the victim called for

the blood of him who had shed it. Pierre l’Hoste, the carman of the

city, denied striking the fatal blow, but confessed that he had struck

Wernly: he was condemned and beheaded. All the other prisoners were

released.

But there was no relief to Claudine Levet’s sorrow; her husband was

still confined in Castle Gaillard, and the governor refused to release

him. The council entreated the Bernese deputies in Geneva to intercede

in behalf of the prisoner, and on the 4th of September, one of them,

accompanied by J. Lullin and C. Savoye, having gone out to

Ville-la-Grand, about a league from the city, Aimé Levet was surrendered

to them.[406]

[Sidenote: Froment And Alexander Arrive.]

While this pious man lay in the Gaillard dungeons, the insults heaped

upon him, the harshness of the prison, and the almost certain death

which threatened him, had given his faith a new life; so that when the

castellan had released him from his bonds, he inwardly vowed that he

would make his deliverance accelerate the triumph of the Gospel. He had

scarcely reached home, when he wrote to Anthony Froment, the evangelist,

whose church had been the market-place, and whose pulpit a fishwife’s

stall, and conjured him to return. The latter did not hesitate, and

knowing that the struggles which awaited him there were beyond the

strength of one man, he invited one of the brethren from Paris, and at

that time in the Pays de Vaud to accompany him. This was Alexander

Canus, called also Dumoulin. One day, therefore, Aimé and Claudine Levet

saw the two evangelists arrive. One lodged with them at St. Gervais on

the right bank, and the other at Claude Salomon’s, near the Molard, on

the left bank; being thus quartered in the two parts into which the city

was divided, they could share the labor.

Salomon, who shared with Levet the honor and danger of receiving the

evangelists, was as gentle as his friend Maisonneuve was quick and often

violent. One day, shortly after the bishop’s flight, the latter saw in

front of him in the street two of the bishop’s partisans, whom he

suspected to be getting up some conspiracy; his blood boiled at the

sight, and he exclaimed: ‘there are so many traitors here.... My fingers

itch to be at them.’[407] A sense of duty, however, restrained him, and

he did nothing. But Salomon was calm and full of charity and compassion:

he felt none of these passing ebullitions, and thought only of visiting

the sick and the poor, and sheltering strangers whom the Romish

persecutions drove to Geneva. ‘These poor refugees,’ he said, ‘are more

destitute than all the rest.’ His wife, ‘neither dainty nor nice,’[408]

lavished her cares on them. They were the Gaius and Dorcas of Scripture.

[Sidenote: Order To Preach The Scriptures.]

Froment and Alexander, quartered on both sides of the Rhone, preached

the Word in private houses with such power that the new faith extended

far and wide, ‘like the layers of a vine;’[409] the old stocks producing

young shoots, which took root and formed other stocks. The priests were

alarmed, and exclaimed that if those doctrines continued to be so

preached, all the country would soon be infested with the sect. They

applied to the bishop, who was at his castle of May—restless, agitated,

and reproaching himself with his disgraceful flight. Wishing to redeem

that fault, he replied on the 24th of October, forbidding any preaching

in Geneva except according to ancient custom. The exulting priests

presented these episcopal letters to the council. The bishop’s cowardly

behavior had estranged the magistrates. ‘_Preach the Gospel_,’ answered

the council, ‘_and say nothing which cannot be proved by Holy

Scripture_.’ These important words, which gave the victory to the

Reformation, may still be read in the official minutes.

Great was the joy among the reformed. They saw in these words a decree

which made evangelical Christianity a lawful religion[410] at Geneva (as

at Rome in the third and fourth centuries), and authorized them to form

a Church which should be free without being dominant. The same fact has

reappeared at other times and in other countries. From that day, all who

had any leaning towards the Gospel would go to the house of Maisonneuve

or of some other huguenot leader, and sit down in the largest room.

Presently the preacher would enter, take his place before a table, and

usually (as it would seem) under the mantel-piece of the large

projecting fireplace. He would then proclaim the Word of God. These

evangelists ‘_did not fret themselves_,’ they did not speak with

bitterness like some others, and make a great noise; but invited souls

to approach Christ without fear, because he is _meek and lowly in

heart_; and such simple genial preaching attracted all who heard it. The

bishop exclaimed that it was only ‘painted language,’ and ‘sham

tenderness;’ but the number of hearers became so considerable that the

two missionaries were forced to preach in the streets and cross-ways of

the city at the Molard, the foot of Coutance, and other places. As soon

as they appeared anywhere a numerous assembly gathered round them, the

hearers crowded one upon another, and the living words addressed to them

bore more fruit than scholastic or trivial sermons delivered in fine

churches to hearers dozing in comfortable seats. ‘These preachings in

houses, streets, and cross-ways,’ said Froment himself, ‘are not without

danger to life, but are a great advancement to the Word, and detriment

to popery.’[411]

The catholic party became alarmed; their leaders met, and the

procurator-fiscal with the bishop’s officers and the priests, who were

‘greatly envenomed against the two reformers,’[412] resolved to

apprehend them. Whenever a meeting was formed, the sergeants came upon

it unexpectedly. ‘But as soon as they saw the levelled halberds, the

faithful, greatly increased in number, did their duty, surrounded their

ministers, and helped them to escape.’ In consequence of this, the

episcopal police went more craftily to work: they kept watch upon the

ministers, and came upon them when they were alone, ‘aiming at nothing

less than their lives.’[413] But these efforts of the priests increased

the respect men felt for the evangelists. ‘Such persecutions,’ said the

huguenots, ‘are a sign by which we may know that the ministers are

excellent servants of Christ.’[414]

The bishop, vexed at having left his episcopal city, could find rest

nowhere. At one time he was at the Tower of May, at another at

Lons-le-Saulnier, now at Arbois, now elsewhere. The thought that two

reformers had come to take his place in Geneva disturbed him; and when

he found that the citizens paid no attention to his strict prohibition

of Gospel preaching sent on the 24th of October, his exasperation was at

its height. ‘We must apply an heroic remedy to the disease,’ he said,

and on the 20th of November he dictated letters patent addressed to the

procurator-fiscal.

[Sidenote: Gospel Preaching Forbidden.]

The Great Council met on the 30th of November to hear the letters read.

‘We command,’ said the bishop, ‘that no one in our city of Geneva

preach, expound, or cause to be preached or expounded, secretly or

publicly, or in any manner whatsoever, the _holy page_, the _holy

Gospel_,[415] unless he have received our express permission, under pain

of perpetual excommunication and a fine of one hundred livres.’ The Two

Hundred were astounded, the evangelicals were indignant, and the better

catholics hung their heads. A bishop to forbid the preaching of the

_holy page_, of the _holy Gospel_! ... to forbid it too in the very

season (Advent) when it was usual to proclaim it! To excommunicate all

who preach it! To forbid its being taught _in any manner whatsoever_! To

forbid them to talk of it in courts or gardens, or elsewhere! Not a

room, not a cellar, kitchen, or garret was excepted! The Apostle Paul

declares, however, that _the Gospel of Christ must not be hindered_. The

emotion of the Two Hundred was so great that all deliberation became

impossible; ‘_the whole council rose and went out_,’ we read in the

minutes of the sitting. Such was the mute but energetic reply made by

Geneva to its bishop.

In the city the emotion was still greater, and vented itself in murmurs

and sighs, and also in ironical jests. ‘Have you heard the news?’ said

the huguenots: ‘the bishop is going to issue an order with sound of

trumpet, forbidding us to speak either good or evil of God and Christ.’

The silly prohibition was like oil thrown upon the fire: the preachings

became more frequent, and even the indifferent began to read the

Scriptures. Froment and his friends distributed evangelical books in

abundance: first the New Testament, then various treatises recently

composed, such as _La Vérité cachée_, _La Confrérie du Saint-Esprit_,

_La Manière du Baptême_, _La Cène de Jésus-Christ_, and _Le Livre des

Marchands_.[416] De Vingle, the printer, and one of his men, named

Grosne, helped them in this work. But the papists sometimes treated the

colporteurs roughly; a gentleman of the neighborhood, having caught

Grosne on the high road, cut off his ears.[417] This had no effect; the

people thirsted for the truth, and all were eager to hear the Word of

God.

The leaders of the episcopal party, seeing that nothing could stop these

_prêcheurs de cheminées_ (chimney-preachers) and their hearers, looked

about for a preacher whose energetic eloquence might rekindle the

expiring Roman fervor,—one of those stout champions who can deal heavy

blows in serious contests. For three or four centuries the Dominicans

had played, as inquisitors, the chief parts in the papacy; they were

skilful, eloquent, shrewd in government, persevering in their designs,

inflexible in dogma, prodigal of threats, condemnations, and the stake.

There was much talk in Savoy, and even in Geneva, about one of them,—a

doctor of the Sorbonne, named Guy Furbity,—‘a great theologian,’ they

said, ‘an enthusiastic servant of the pope, a sworn enemy of the

Reformation, daring and violent to the last degree.’[418] Just then he

was preaching at Chambéry and Montmeillan, charming all hearers. The

Genevese catholics petitioned the Sorbonne for this great preacher. Such

a rock, transported to the valley of the Leman, would, they thought,

check the devastating torrent of reform. Their prayer was granted, and

Furbity flattered himself that he was going to win a fairer crown than

all his predecessors. Proud of his order, his reputation, and his

Church, he arrived in Geneva with haughty head, glaring eyes, and

threatening gestures; one might have imagined that he was going to crush

all his adversaries to powder. ‘Ah! those poor Lutherans,’ he said

disdainfully, ‘those poor chimney-preachers!’ ‘He was in a passion,’

says Froment.[419] The huguenots said, as they pointed him out, ‘Look at

that Atlas, who fancies he carries the tottering Church of the Roman

pontiff on his shoulders.’[420]

[Sidenote: Furbity Abuses Bible-Readers.]

A plot had been formed, of which Furbity was to be the chief instrument.

The syndics, Du Crest, Baud, Malbuisson, and many other good Genevans

had been gained over by the priests to the cause of the pope, and by

this means the latter held in their hands the council, the treasury, the

artillery, and, in one word, the city property, besides the ignorant

populace.[421] The Sorbonne doctor had hardly alighted at the convent of

his order when a deputation from the canons came and asked him to preach

in the cathedral and not in the Dominican church. ‘The sermons delivered

at St. Pierre’s, said the monks, ‘will produce a greater

sensation.’—‘Very good,’ said Furbity, ‘I promise you that I will cry

out pretty loudly against the modern heretics.’ It was objected that it

was contrary to the established custom to have such preachings in the

cathedral. ‘We will put him there by force of arms,’ answered the

churchmen, ‘and he shall say what he pleases.’

On the morning of Sunday, the 30th of November, a certain number of

priests and laymen armed themselves; and the zealous Furbity, taking his

place in the middle of the band, proceeded to the cathedral. ‘Really,’

said some of the Genevese with astonishment, ‘he is going to preach by

main force.’ But he restrained himself that day, and he met with no

opposition. The next day, Monday, he went to work in earnest. His sermon

was a continued declamation, full of pompous phrases extolling the

papacy, and of invectives against the preachers. ‘In the pulpit he

behaves like a madman,’ said Froment, who was present; ‘he roars without

rhyme or reason.’ But the bigots were in ecstasies. ‘Have you heard Dr.

Furbity?’ they said in the city. On Wednesday an immense crowd assembled

to hear him. The Dominican went into the pulpit resolved to crush the

heretics, as his patron, St. Dominick had done before him.

He imagined that his great business was to lower the Bible and then to

exalt the pope, and he set to work accordingly. ‘All who read the

Scriptures in the vulgar tongue,’ he said, ‘are gluttons, drunkards,

debauchees, blasphemers, thieves, and murderers.... Those who support

them are as wicked as they, and God will punish them. All who will not

obey the pope, or the cardinals, or the bishops, or the curates, or the

vicars, or the priests, are the devil’s flock. They are marked by him,

worse than Jews, traitors, murderers, and brigands, and ought to be

hanged on the gallows. All who eat meat on Friday and Saturday, are

worse than Turks and mad dogs.... Beware of these heretics, these

Germans, as you would of lepers and rottenness. Have no dealings with

them in the way of business or otherwise, and do not let them marry your

daughters. You had better give them to the dogs.’[422]

Among the evangelicals who listened to this string of abuse was one

Janin, a man of small stature, a maker of pikes, halberds, javelins, and

arrows, whence he was usually called the _collonier_, or armorer. His

activity was indefatigable; he was present everywhere; he held

discussions in private and preached ‘to companies, urging with all his

might’ those who listened to him to embrace the faith which Luther had

found in the Holy Scriptures.[423] Having gone to St. Pierre’s, he sat

down near some good catholics, among others Pierre Pennet, whose

brothers were soon to become famous in Geneva for their zeal in behalf

of the Romish faith. Janin, unable to put up with such insulting

language, became restless, and exclaimed that the preacher did not know

what he was saying. The catholics around him, annoyed at being disturbed

in their devotions, said: ‘Begone; one preacher is enough here.’[424]

But they had some trouble to make him hold his tongue. A more telling

interruption was to disturb the orator before long.

[Sidenote: Furbity Challenges The Lutherans.]

The Dominican saw clearly that abuse alone would not restore the papacy;

its fundamental doctrines must be established, and this he undertook to

do in other discourses. Continuing to insult the reformers as ‘wretches

who, instead of wearing the _robe_, are dressed like _brigands_,’ he

maintained that priests only, by virtue of the sacramental institution,

could bring souls into communion with God. He even used language that

must have sounded strange to the worshippers of Mary. ‘A priest who

consecrates the elements of the Sacrament,’ he said, ‘is above the Holy

Virgin, for she only gave life to Jesus Christ once, whereas the priest

creates him every day, as often as he likes. If a priest pronounces the

sacramental words over a sack full of bread, or in a cellar full of

wine, all the bread, by that very act, is transformed and becomes the

precious body of Christ, and all the wine is changed into blood—which is

what the Virgin never did.... Ah! the priest! ... you should not merely

salute him, you should kneel and prostrate yourselves before him.’

This was not enough; the Dominican thought it his duty to establish the

doctrine of transubstantiation, on which the dignity of the priest is

founded. He exclaimed: ‘We must believe that the body of Jesus Christ is

in the host in flesh and bone. We must believe that he is there as much

as he was in the Blessed Virgin’s womb, or on the wood of the true

cross. We must believe it under pain of damnation, for our holy

theological faculty of Paris at the Sorbonne, and our mother the holy

Church, believe it. Yes; Jesus Christ is in the host, as he was in the

Virgin’s womb, ... but small ... as small as an ant. It is a matter that

admits of no further discussion.’

Whereupon the Dominican, satisfied that he had gained a signal victory,

indulged in the impetuosity of his clerical haughtiness, and, pouring

out a torrent of insults, exclaimed: ‘Where are those wretched Lutherans

who preach to the contrary? Where are these heretics, these rascals,

these worse than Jews, Turks and heathens?... Where are these fine

_chimney-preachers_? Let them come forward, and they shall be

answered.... Ha! ha! They will take good care not to show themselves,

except at the chimney-corner, for they are only brave in deceiving poor

women and such as know nothing.’[425]

Having spoken thus, the monk sat down, proud of his eloquence. A great

agitation prevailed in the congregations; the reformers were challenged

to the combat; the people wondered whether they would reply to the

challenge. There was a momentary pause, when Froment rose, and standing

in the middle of the church, motioned them with his hand to be silent.

‘For the love of God,’ he said, ‘listen to what I have to tell you!’ The

congregation turned their eyes on the person who uttered these words,

and the evangelist, with sonorous voice, exclaimed: ‘Sirs, I offer my

life—yea, I am ready to go the stake if I do not show, by Holy

Scripture, that what Dr. Furbity has just said is false, and the

language of Antichrist.’ He then adduced scriptural authorities against

the Dominican’s assertions. ‘It is the truth,’ exclaimed the reformers;

and some of them looking towards the monk, called out: ‘Let him answer

that.’ Furbity, astonished at hearing himself refuted by such plain

passages, dared not rise, but remained fixed to his seat, hiding his

head in the pulpit. ‘Let him answer,’ shouted the huguenots on all

sides: their shouts were useless.

[Sidenote: Tumult In The Church.]

The canons and their friends, finding their oracle was dumb, ventured

upon a controversy which was much more in their line. They drew their

swords (priests often wore swords in those times), and approaching

Froment, exclaimed: ‘Kill him—kill the Lutheran!... Ah! the wretch! he

has dared take our good father to task.’ Nothing but death could expiate

the crime of a layman who had ventured to contradict a priest. There was

only one point on which these churchmen were not agreed: it was whether

they should _burn_ or _drown_ the evangelist. Some shouted: ‘Burn

him—burn him!’ and others: ‘To the Rhone with him!’—‘There was no small

commotion,’ writes Froment. Just as the priests were about to carry him

off, Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, Ami Perrin, Janin le Collonier, and

others rallied round him like a body-guard, wishing to get him out of

the church. This did not calm the tumult; the people ran after him, and

the magistrates would have arrested him. ‘They crowded upon one

another,’ says Froment, ‘either to see him, or to strike him, or to

carry him off.’ The tumultuous crowd made a last effort to lay hold of

the evangelist, just as they reached the great doors of the cathedral.

Baudichon de la Maisonneuve observing this, halted, drew his sword, and,

facing the rioters, cried in a loud voice: ‘I will kill the first man

that touches him. Let the law prevail; and if any one has done wrong,

let him be punished.’ The catholics, intimidated by Maisonneuve’s look,

shrank back; and Froment’s friends, taking advantage of this favorable

moment, dragged him away from his enemies. Then, ‘the women, as if they

were mad, rushed after him with great fury, throwing many stones at

him.’[426] The huguenot Perrin, more politic than evangelical, alarmed

at the tumult, said to Froment: ‘We have spoilt the business; it was

going on very well, and now all is lost.’ _The other_ (by which words

Froment indicates himself), sure of his cause, answered simply: ‘All is

won!’ The future showed that he was right. When Froment arrived at

Baudichon’s house,—the usual asylum of the friends of the Gospel,—Le

Collonier took him up to the hayloft and carefully hid him under the

hay. De la Maisonneuve and Janin had afterwards to pay dearly for their

kind offices. The latter had scarcely quitted the loft when Claude Baud

arrived with his officers and his halberds. ‘They searched the house all

over, and even thrust their spears into the hay, but finding nobody they

withdrew.’[427]

Alexander, who had not spoken in the church, had accompanied his friend

as far as the great doors. Seeing Froment led away by Janin, and

believing him safe, he halted ‘at the top of the steps in the midst of

the people,’ and, not permitting himself to be intimidated by the

popular fury, he exclaimed: ‘He very properly took him to task. Doctor

Furbity has preached against the holy books; he is a false prophet.’ The

syndics, pleased to catch one at least, carried Alexander off to the

town-hall, and some demanded that he should be sentenced to death. The

sage Balthasar resisted this: ‘It was not this man who caused the

uproar,’ he said. ‘Besides, he is a Frenchman; and the King of France

may perhaps take _some opportunity_ against our city if we put his

subjects to death.’ The two ‘_Mahometists_’ were banished for life from

the city, under pain of death; and, at the same time, it was agreed that

the Advent preachers should be told ‘to preach the Gospel only, in order

to avoid disturbance.’

Alexander was conducted by the watch out of the city to a place called

La Monnaye, where, seeing the crowd following him, he turned towards

them and said: ‘I shall not take my rest like a soldier whose time of

service is over.’ He then addressed the crowd for two hours, and many

were won to the Gospel. De la Maisonneuve having returned home, went in

search of Froment in the hayloft; and as soon as it was night, the two

friends quitted Geneva secretly, took up Alexander at La Monnaye, and

then all three set off for Berne.

Footnote 406:

Registre du Conseil des 6, 7, 8, 12, 17, Août et 4 Septembre

1533.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 60. Roset MS. liv. iii. ch. xvi.

Footnote 407:

‘La main me fourmille que je n’agisse contre les traîtres!’

Footnote 408:

‘Nullement délicate ni mignarde.’—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 68.

Registre du Conseil du 12 Octobre 1535.

Footnote 409:

‘A la façon des provins.’

Footnote 410:

Religio licita.

Footnote 411:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 66.

Footnote 412:

‘Fort envenimés contre les deux réformateurs.’

Footnote 413:

‘Ne voulant pas moins que la _jacture_ de leur vie.’

Footnote 414:

Froment, _Gestes_, p. 66.

Footnote 415:

‘Neminem clam, palam, occulte vel publice sacram paginam, sacrum

Evangelium exponere aut alias quomodocumque dicere.’—Gaberel, _Lettres

patentes de l’Evêque. Pièces justificatives_, i. p. 42.

Footnote 416:

The Hidden Truth. The Brotherhood of the Holy Ghost. The Manner of

Baptism. The Supper of Jesus Christ. The Tradesmen’s Book.

Footnote 417:

MS. du procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 6 et 7.

Footnote 418:

Berne MSS. _Hist. Helv._ v. 12.

Footnote 419:

‘Il était enflambé.’—Froment, _Gestes_.

Footnote 420:

‘Velut alter Atlas qui instanti causæ catholicæ succollaret.’—_Geneva

Restituta_, p. 63.

Footnote 421:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 66-68. La Sœur Jeanne, _Levain du

Calvinisme_, p. 70.

Footnote 422:

See the documents attached to the trial, in the Registres du Conseil

du 27 Janvier 1534.

Footnote 423:

‘Prêchant à des compagnies induisant de toute sa possibilité, &c.’—MS.

du procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 29.

Footnote 424:

Ibid. p. 37.

Footnote 425:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 69-71. Gautier MS.

Footnote 426:

‘Les femmes comme enragées . . . de grande furie, lui jetant force

pierres.’—Froment, _Gestes merveilleux de Genève_, pp. 71-74. Sœur

Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 70. Gautier MS.

Footnote 427:

Registre du Conseil du 2 Décembre 1533.

CHAPTER III.

FAREL, MAISONNEUVE, AND FURBITY IN GENEVA.

(DECEMBER 1533 TO JANUARY 1534.)

[Sidenote: Furbity Visited By The Catholics.]

De la Maisonneuve was determined to uphold the liberty of

Gospel-preaching. ‘We are called Lutherans,’ said Froment; ‘now,

_Luther_ in German means _clear_, and there is nothing clearer than the

Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Lutheran cause is the cause of light.’ And

therefore De la Maisonneuve desired to propagate it.

The zealous huguenot did not lose a moment after his arrival at Berne.

He told all his friends (of whom he had many) what was going on at

Geneva. Froment and Alexander, who stood by his side, supported his

complaints and repeated the insults of the Dominican. The Bernese were

exasperated by the abuse the monk had heaped upon the protestants, but

they were animated by a nobler motive. They had thought that Geneva, so

famous for the energetic character of its citizens, would be a great

gain for the Reformation; and now people were beginning to say in Savoy,

in the Pays de Vaud, at Freiburg, and in France, that the reforming

movement was crushed in the huguenot city. ‘A great rumor,’ says Farel,

‘spread everywhere touching Geneva, how that Master Furbity had

triumphed in his disputations with the Lutherans.’[428] The Bernese

resolved to assist the threatened Reform by despatching to Geneva ...

not large battalions, but a humble preacher of the Gospel. They sent

William Farel as Maisonneuve’s companion.

On Sunday, December 21, the feast of St. Thomas of Canterbury, Furbity,

proud at having to eulogize so heroic a saint, was more energetic than

ever. ‘All who follow that cursed sect,’ he cried, ‘are lewd and

gluttonous livers, wanton, ambitious, murderers, and thieves, who live

like beasts, loving their own sensuality, acknowledging neither a God

nor a superior.’ These words raised the enthusiasm of the catholics, the

chief of whom resolved to go in a body to the bishop’s palace to thank

the reverend father. The noble Perceval de Pesmes, _capitaine des bons_,

‘the captain of the good,’ as the nuns called him, was at their head.

‘Most reverend father,’ said the descendant of the Crusaders, ‘we thank

you for preaching such good doctrine, and beg you will fear

nothing.’—‘Hold fast to the sword, captain; on my side I will use the

spirit and the tongue.’ The compact being made, the deputation withdrew.

They had scarcely quitted the episcopal palace, when a strange report

circulated through the town. ‘De la Maisonneuve has returned from Berne

and brought the notorious William Farel with him!’ Farel having

re-entered Geneva, was not to leave it again until the work of the

Reformation was completed there. ‘What!’ exclaimed the catholics, ‘that

wretch, that devil whom we drove out is come back!’ They were so

exasperated that De Pesmes, Malbuisson, and others, meeting Farel and

Maisonneuve in the street that very day, drew their swords and fell upon

them; they were rescued by some huguenots. The episcopalians consulted

together, and decided to take up arms to expel the reformer.

[Sidenote: Farel And Baudichon.]

Not without reason were the catholics alarmed. Farel was a hero. A work

that is beginning requires one of those strong men who, by the energy of

their will, surmount all obstacles, and set in motion all the forces of

their epoch to carry out the plan they have conceived. Calvin and Luther

are the great men of the Reformation in the sixteenth century. Calvin

defended it against dangerous enemies; he gave to the renovated Church a

body of divinity and a simple powerful constitution. The scriptural

faith which he has set forth is making, and will make, the circuit of

the world. But when he arrived at Geneva, the Reform was already

accomplished outwardly. Farel is really the reformer of that city as

well as of other places in Switzerland and France. A noble and simple

evangelist, his genius was less great, his name less illustrious than

his successor’s; but he ceased not to expose his life in fierce combats

for the Saviour, and, in the order of grace, he was in that beautiful

country enclosed between the Alps and the Jura what fire is in the order

of nature—the most powerful of God’s agents. He was not, as is sometimes

imagined, a hot-headed man, liable to fits of violence and temper. With

energy he combined prudence—with zeal, impartiality. ‘Would to God,’ he

said, on the occasion of his discussion with Furbity, ‘that each man

would state each thing without leaning to one side more than to the

other.’[429] But it must be acknowledged that he had more force than

circumspection, and an unparalleled activity was the principal feature

of his character. To venture everywhere, to act in all circumstances, to

preach in every place, to brave every danger, were his enjoyment and his

life. His excessive genius ‘delighted in adventure,’ as was said of a

celebrated conqueror, and he was never so truly happy as when he was in

the field. Farel began the work, and Calvin completed it.

Another man, a layman, was called to play a part not less important in

the Genevan Reformation. It has been remarked[430] that in the great

revolutions of nations, God sometimes gives not a counsellor to be

listened to, but a torrent to be followed. There was indeed in Geneva a

mighty torrent rushing towards Reform, and the man who personified that

popular force was Baudichon de la Maisonneuve. Noble in heart as in

race, at first he had been merely an independent politician and an

opponent of the papacy; but, opening his house and his heart to the

Gospel, he came to love it more and more every day. Certainly he did not

possess all the evangelical graces; he was somewhat of a jester, and

might often be found laughing at the superstitions of his times.

Occasionally, also, he was violent in his acts and words. But the

republican energy that characterized him made him the fittest man to

cope with Rome, the Duke, and the Inquisition. Strong, proud, immovable,

he was on a small stage, what the Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of

Hesse were on a larger stage, the patron of evangelical doctrine.

Although of noble descent, he was in trade, and had an extensive

business. Rich and generous, he provided for the wants of the new creed.

The magistrates of the cities with which he had dealings showed him much

consideration; and not only did the puissant republic of Berne intercede

in his favor, but King Francis I. also. De la Maisonneuve had no doubts

about the triumph of the Reformation. One day, as a Lausanne dealer was

buying one of his horses, the confident Genevan said to him: ‘You shall

pay me when no more masses are celebrated at Lausanne.’ Two or three

months later, when settling his accounts at Lyons, he said to one of his

correspondents: ‘You shall pay me when the priests in this city are what

those in Berne are now.’ This made the bigoted catholics exclaim: ‘He is

the cause of the perversion of Geneva. Would to God he had died ten

years ago!’[431] De la Maisonneuve had much affinity with Berthelier:

the latter began the independence of the city, the former introduced the

reform. They were both pioneers; but if Berthelier’s death was the most

heroic, Baudichon’s life was the most exemplary.

De la Maisonneuve was able, in case of necessity, to unite prudence with

energy. On the 21st December, the Dominican having preached with great

_éclat_ in the cathedral, some of the reformed said, boldly: ‘Why should

not our minister (Farel) preach in the church as well as a popish

doctor?’ and invited the reformers to enter the building. The indignant

catholics exclaimed: ‘It shall cost us our lives sooner!’ De la

Maisonneuve calmed his friends; he wished to try legal means, and ask

the magistrates for a church.

[Sidenote: The Plot Breaks Out.]

The next day he appeared before the council, and handed in the letter

from the chiefs of the mighty Bernese republic. ‘What!’ they said, ‘you

expel from your city our servants, people attached to the Holy Word,

whom we commended to you, and at the same time you tolerate men who

blaspheme against God. Your preacher has attacked us; we shall prosecute

him, and call upon you to arrest him. Moreover, we ask for a place in

which Farel may preach the Gospel publicly.’ The larger portion of the

council was astounded at these two requests. They were about to

deliberate on them when a commotion was heard in the street. A plot had

broken out.

It was near midday. Between eight and nine hundred priests and laymen

were going to the bishop’s palace, where they had appointed a meeting.

In the palace everything was astir; the cellars were open, and the

servants were running about with bottles in their hands. ‘They supplied

wine in profusion, and every man promised to do his duty. They were

respectable-looking people and well dressed.’ Two hundred men were to

stop at St. Pierre’s to attack the heretics in the rear. All the others

were to go down to the Molard, ‘burning for the cause of God,’ and

attack Baudichon’s house, where Farel was to be found.[432]

De la Maisonneuve, understanding what was going on, hastily quitted the

council-chamber, and ran to defend his home.[433] His first care was to

hide Farel as well as he could, and then, while preparations were making

to storm his house, he took steps for its defence. But the council,

learning what was going on, left the hôtel de ville, and ordered the

bishop’s partisans to lay down their arms. It seemed strange to do so,

after so many protestations and so much zeal; yet they obeyed. ‘The

wicked build triumphs in the air,’ said the huguenots, ‘and all these

reports ended in smoke at last.’[434]

Farel left his hiding-place and resumed his preachings in the houses;

but his audience had a singular appearance. In front of the minister

might be seen the proud features of the huguenots, with helmets on their

heads, swords by their sides, and some were armed with cuirass,

arquebuse, or halberd; for, since the last catholic resort to arms, they

feared a surprise. Baudichon watched over the assembly. Wearing an

allécret (a sort of light breastplate), and holding a staff in his hand,

he ‘set the people in order,’ assigning them their places, and whenever

he chanced to hear any conversation, ‘bidding them be silent;’ then

Farel would begin to speak and preach the Gospel with boldness.[435]

The syndics, placed between the reformers and the catholics, could not

tell what to do. If they arrested Furbity, they would exasperate the

catholics and Savoyards; if they allowed him to continue his philippics

against the reformed, they would offend the huguenots and the Bernese.

The Two Hundred therefore resolved to leave the Dominican ostensibly at

large, at the same time treating him in reality as a prisoner. He might

go where he pleased, but attended by six guards, who followed him even

to the foot of the pulpit. ‘Alas!’ exclaimed his friends, ‘they have

placed the reverend father in the keeping of the watch!’ On hearing

which the monk observed, haughtily: ‘I am under restraint on account of

a set of people who are good for nothing.’

Christmas day arrived: the Dominican had ‘a very numerous audience,

particularly of women.’ Incense smoked on the altars; the chants

resounded in the choir; the faithful had never shown so much fervor, and

the monk preached with such warmth that, ‘within the memory of man,

there had never been so fine a service.’[436] At the same time, Farel,

plainly dressed, was preaching in a large room. There was no incense, no

tapers, no chanting, but the words of God which stirred men’s

consciences. This irritated Furbity still more, and on the last day of

the year he exclaimed from the pulpit: ‘All who follow the new law are

heretics and the most worthless of men.’[437] Thus ended the year 1533.

[Sidenote: Furbity Takes Leave.]

The new year was to make the balance incline to the side of the

Reformation; accordingly the clergy, as if terrified at the future,

resolved to destroy the tree by the roots, and inaugurated the first day

of the year 1534 by an extraordinary proclamation. ‘In the name of

Monseigneur of Geneva and of his vicar,’ said the priests from all the

pulpits, ‘it is ordered that no one shall preach _the Word of God_,

either in public or in private, and that all the books of Holy

Scripture, whether in French or in German, shall be burnt.’[438] The

reformed, who were present in great numbers in the church, were

staggered at the new-year’s gift which the bishop presented to his

people. The Dominican, who was preaching that day for the last time,

outdid the proclamation, and bade farewell of his audience in a paltry

epigram:—

Je veux vous donner mes étrennes,

Dieu convertisse les luthériens!

S’ils ne se retournent à bien,

Qu’il leur donne fièvres quartaines!

Qui veut _si, prennent ses mitaines_![439]

Notwithstanding his invocation of the quartan ague, the catholics said,

with tears in their eyes, ‘With what devotion he takes leave of us!’

All, however, had not been equally touched: just as the monk was

preparing to depart, his guards stopped him, for he had forgotten that

he was a prisoner.

Meanwhile the episcopal mandate was causing disturbance in the city.

‘Forbid the preaching of the Gospel,’ said some; ‘burn the holy books!

What a horrible notion! The Mahometans never did anything like it with

regard to the Koran, or the Ghebers with the books of Zoroaster. Those

who are charged to preach the Word of God are the very men to condemn it

to the flames!’ Thus catholics and evangelicals took up arms—the former

to destroy the Bible, the others to defend it.

They remained under arms not only during the night of the first of

January, but also during the second, the third, and a part of the

fourth, bivouacking in the squares, and kindling great fires. The

citizens of Geneva had often taken up arms from other motives. If any

one had now gone to the catholics and asked them: ‘Why are you doing

this?’ they would have answered: ‘Because we desire to drive out the

Bible:’ and if the same question had been put to the reformed, they

would have answered: ‘Because we desire to keep it.’ These poor folks

had often nothing to eat or drink; and when any party sent to a house to

procure provisions, the other party often seized the spoil. They were

obliged to give the purveyors a strong escort.[440]

It was a strange sight, no doubt, to see a town filled with armed men

because of the Word of peace. It was in this way that great emotions

displayed themselves at that epoch, and it would be ridiculous to

exhibit the men of the sixteenth century with the manners of the

nineteenth. The evangelical Christians believed that, if the Bible were

taken from them, Jesus would also be lost to them; it seemed that if

there were no more Scripture, there would be no more Christ, no more

salvation. The political huguenots, not troubling themselves about that

matter, thought that the Bible was the best means of getting rid of the

bishop. Consequently all alike passed the days and nights under arms

around the watchfires, being unwilling to have the Scriptures taken away

from them. The reformed, desiring to appear pacific, thought it their

duty to yield a little, and prevailed upon Alexander to withdraw, as he

had been lawfully banished. He turned his steps in the direction of

France, where he soon after found a martyr’s death. But the evangelical

cause in Geneva lost nothing, for, as Alexander left on one side,

Froment returned on the other; and almost at the same moment an embassy

from Berne, headed by Sebastian of Diesbach, appeared at the city gates.

These worthy deputies, seeing what was going on,—the bivouacks, the

soldiers, the spears, and arquebuses,—stopped their horses, examined the

groups with an air of astonishment, asked what it all meant, and finally

exhorted the rival parties to withdraw. The Genevese began to understand

the strangeness of their position: the huguenots felt that it was a

different power from that of their arquebuses which should defend the

Bible; the men of both parties, therefore, yielded to the wise

remonstrances of the Bernese, and every man retired to his own

house.[441]

[Sidenote: Three Reformers In Geneva.]

Diesbach and his colleagues came with the intent of prosecuting the

Dominican; but while shutting the door against the monk, they desired to

throw it wide open to the Reformation. Farel had been at Geneva some

time; Froment had just arrived; but that was not all. A man of modest

appearance, who formed part of the Bernese retinue, was to be more

formidable to Roman-catholicism than the illustrious ambassadors

themselves. They had with them the young and gentle Viret. Weak and

faint, he was still suffering from a wound inflicted by a priest of

Payerne, but the deputies of Berne had insisted on his accompanying

them. Thus Farel, Viret, and Froment—three men of lively faith and

indefatigable zeal—were going to work together in Geneva. Everything

seemed to indicate that the reformed bands of Switzerland were unmasking

their batteries and preparing to dismantle those of the pope. They were

about to open a sharp fire, which would beat down the thick walls that

for so long had sheltered the oracles and exactions of the papacy.

Viret immediately asked after his friends Farel and Froment, who had

been forced to hide themselves during the armed crisis; some huguenots

went in search of them and brought them to the Tête-noire, where the

embassy was quartered. ‘You shall stay with us,’ said the Bernese; ‘we

will protect your liberty, and you shall announce the Gospel.’ The three

reformers immediately began to preach in private houses,[442]

proclaiming the authority and the doctrines of those Holy Scriptures

which the clergy had condemned. What a strange contradiction! The bishop

had just interdicted the Bible, and the three most powerful preachers in

the French tongue were now publicly teaching its divine lessons.... So

many and such good workmen had never before been seen in Geneva. ‘And

the papists dared do nothing against them.’[443]

But the Bernese wanted more: ‘You protect that Dominican who slanders

our good reputation,’ they said to the council; ‘you despise our mode of

living, you condemn the holy Gospel of God, you maltreat those who

desire to understand it, and banish those who preach it: is that

conducting yourselves in conformity with the treaty of alliance? Let the

monk defend what he has taught: we have brought preachers who will show

him the falseness of his doctrine. If you refuse these requests, Berne

will find other means of vindicating her honor.’ The syndics replied to

the Bernese: ‘It is not our business to know what concerns priests;

apply to the prince-bishop.’—‘That is a mere evasion,’ answered Berne.

‘We give you back our letters of alliance.’ At these words the premier

syndic, becoming alarmed, offered to let the Dominican appear before

them. The Bernese accepted, but ‘on condition that the monk should be

obliged to answer the ministers before all the people.’[444] That was

the essential point.

Footnote 428:

_Lettres certaines d’aucuns grands troubles et tumultes advenus à

Genève, avec la disputation faite l’an 1534._ This pamphlet is dated

April 1, 1534, and is from the pen of Farel, though the printer

describes it as being by a notary of Geneva.

Footnote 429:

_Lettres certaines d’aucuns grands troubles et tumultes advenus à

Genève, avec la disputation faite l’an 1534_, avant-propos.

Footnote 430:

Thiers on the Insurrection in Spain.

Footnote 431:

MS. du procès inquisitionnel de Lyon. Archives de Berne, pp. 38, 198,

229, 285.

Footnote 432:

Registre du Conseil du 22 Décembre 1533. Froment, _Gestes merveilleux

de Genève_, p. 78. Sœur Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 71.

_Lettres certaines d’aucuns grands troubles_, &c.

Footnote 433:

Recent investigations indicate that this house was situated in the Rue

basse du Marché, in front of the Terraillet.

Footnote 434:

‘Les méchants se bâtissent des triomphes en l’air, et tous ces bruits

ne sont finalement que fumée.’—_Lettres certaines._ Froment, _Gestes

de Genève_, p. 79. Sœur Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 73.

Footnote 435:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 79. MS. du procès inquisitionnel de

Lyon, p. 226.

Footnote 436:

‘De vie d’hommes, n’avait été fait si bel office.’ Registre du Conseil

des 23 et 24 Décembre et du 27 Janvier, 1534.—La Sœur Jeanne, _Levain

du Calvinisme_, p. 74.

Footnote 437:

Registre du Conseil des 27 et 28 Décembre.—Gautier MSC.—Ruchat, iii.

p. 245.

Footnote 438:

MSC. de Roset, liv. iii. ch. xvii.—Registre du 1 Janvier, 1534.—Spon.

i. p. 50.—Ruchat, iii. p. 244.—Roset and Farel, both contemporaries,

and in a position to know the truth, report the fact that the Holy

Scriptures were to be _burnt_. The minutes of the council do not

mention it; but the secretary occasionally toned down what seemed too

strong for a council the majority of which was at that time catholic.

Footnote 439:

_Prendre ses mitaines_, a figurative expression for _prendre ses

mesures_.—_Lettres certaines_, &c.

Footnote 440:

Froment, _Actes de Genève_, p. 80.

Footnote 441:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 80.

Footnote 442:

Farellus, Fromentius, Viretus intra privatos parietes in prædicando

Dei verbo. _Geneva restituta_, p. 65.

Footnote 443:

MSC. de Roset, _Chron._, lib. iii. ch. xviii.—Froment, _Gestes de

Genève_, pp. 80, 81.—Registre du Conseil du 5 Janvier.

Footnote 444:

Registre du Conseil des 7 et 8 Janvier, 1534.—Froment, _Gestes de

Genève_, pp. 80, 81.—Ruchat, iii. p. 245.

CHAPTER IV.

THE TOURNAMENT.

(JANUARY TO FEBRUARY 1534.)

[Sidenote: The Three Reformers.]

The 9th of January was an important date in the history of the

Reformation of Geneva, and perhaps (we might add) in that of Europe. The

laity were about to resume their rights: a priest was to appear before

the Genevese laymen and the Bernese magistrates. As soon as the Council

of Two Hundred had assembled, the ambassadors entered, followed by three

persons who attracted the special attention of all present. The eyes

full of fire, the bold bravery, the indomitable features of one of them

marked him to be Farel. The second, less known, had, although young, the

prudence of a man in years and the sweetness of a St. John; this was

Viret. The third, short in stature and of mean appearance, decided in

his gait, lively, and talkative; this was Froment. They all took their

seats at the right of the premier syndic. The friar of the order of St.

Dominic, entering in his turn, sat on the left on a raised bench. They

had met to attack and defend the papacy. The tournament, at which a

great crowd of gentlemen and citizens was present, resembled one of

those ‘solemn judgments’ to which man had had recourse for ages to

terminate certain controversies. The subject of the dispute was more

important than usual. Truth and tradition, the middle ages and modern

times, independence and slavery, were in the balance. All, therefore,

who were interested in divine and human things, waited with impatience.

Their expectations were disappointed.

Just as the struggle was about to begin, one of the combatants hung

back. The Dominican rose and said: ‘Messieurs, I am a monk and doctor of

Paris; I cannot appear before laymen without the license of my prelate.’

He sat down. ‘You offered before all the people,’ said Sebastian of

Diesbach, ‘to defend your position by the Holy Scriptures, and now you

want a licence.’ Farel rose and observed, that the monk and the great

apostle were of contrary opinions; ‘St. Paul refused, in such a case, to

appear before the priests at Jerusalem, and appealed to Cæsar. Now Cæsar

was certainly a layman, and what is more—a heathen.’ The monk forbore to

reply to this invincible argument; but looking with pity on the

individual who had dared speak to him, said, with a gesture of contempt,

‘that he had nothing to do with that man.’ Then, remembering how the

strappado and the stake brought such cavillers to their senses in Paris,

he added: ‘Let him go and speak like that in France!’ ‘Good father,’

said the premier syndic, ‘since you will not answer when our lords of

Berne accuse you, leave that place and sit on the bench yonder, where

you shall hear the rest.’ The monk of St. Dominic had to quit his place

of honor and go to the bar; but notwithstanding this humiliation, he

again refused to speak. The syndics then sent to ask the grand-vicar to

give him leave to answer; but this dignitary replied: ‘I am ill.’ The

deputies made the same request to the official, M. de Veigy, who

answered: ‘The bishop has forbidden me to do so.’ ‘Shameful!’ exclaimed

many; ‘all these priests refuse to give an account of their faith.’ The

Dominican said to the council: ‘Let my lords the ambassadors select as

judges two doctors from Germany; and we will select two from Paris; then

I will reply not only to Farel, Viret, and Froment, but to a hundred or

two hundred of such preachers.... Alone I will meet them all!’ The

Bernese declared they would trust the matter to those only who were

lawfully authorized. They wanted more. The refusal of the Dominican

served but to increase their desire to see the Reformation freely

preached in Geneva. Not contenting themselves with a theological

discussion, they said to the syndics: ‘The way to pacify the city and to

be just towards all, is to pick out one of the parish churches and

appoint a preacher of the Gospel to it. Those who wish to go to the

sermon, will go to the sermon; those who wish to go to mass, will go to

mass; every man is to remain free in his conscience; no one shall be

constrained, and all will be satisfied.’ ‘We are only laymen,’ answered

the astonished syndics; ‘it is not our business to choose preachers and

assign them churches.’ The council sent a deputation to Berne to soften

the rigor of the chiefs of the state; but it was useless. The greater

the _suppleness_ (to use the language of a manuscript) shown by the

Genevans, the greater the inflexibility displayed by the Bernese. It was

a struggle between the pliant and the rigid; and the pliant, as usual,

were compelled to give way.[445]

[Sidenote: Reparation Demanded.]

The Bernese ambassadors pursued their plans with vigor, and demanded

reparation for the insults of the Dominican, and a church for the

preachers of the Gospel. ‘If you refuse,’ added Diesbach, ‘we shall

return you the seals of our alliance; we shall take back ours; we shall

prosecute the monk ... and whomsoever we think fit.’ The Two Hundred

were astounded, involuntary tears escaped from the eyes of some, and

even the people outside were much disturbed (says the Council minute).

Joining deeds to words, Sebastian of Diesbach placed the letters of

alliance on the table. The whole assembly immediately rose up with

indescribable emotion, and with tears begged the ambassadors to take

back their letters. ‘We will do our best to satisfy you!’ exclaimed the

premier-syndic, stout catholic as he was. The stern Bernese noble was

touched. ‘We take them back,’ he said at last; ‘but we protest that we

shall return them if you do not satisfy our demands.’[446] Everything

was then prepared for the trial. Geneva undertook to bear the axe into

the wilderness of church abuses: a priest, accused by laymen, was about

to be tried by laymen. This in itself was a revolution.

[Sidenote: The Monk On His Trial.]

On the 27th January, the Two Hundred sitting as a court of justice,

Furbity was brought before them. He had taken courage; his erect head

and confident look showed that he believed himself sure of victory. He

called upon the Bernese to set forth their grievances, but protested

against the inquiry on account of the sacerdotal character with which he

was invested. Then the following colloquy took place:—

AMBASSADOR.—You preached publicly that four kinds of executioners

divided the robe of our Saviour Jesus Christ at the foot of the cross,

and that the first were Germans. That word concerns us.

MONK.—I never used such words; and I do not know to what country the

executioners belonged.

AMBAS.—We will prove this charge presently. You said that those who eat

meat on Friday and Saturday are worse than Jews, Turks, and mad dogs.

MONK.—I did not mean thereby to offend their Excellencies of Berne; I

was preaching only to the people of this city.

AMBAS.—You said that all who read the Holy Scriptures in the vulgar

tongue are no better than lewd livers, gluttons, drunkards, blasphemers,

murderers, and robbers.

MONK.—I affirm that I have not abused my lords of Berne.

AMBAS.—You spoke in a general manner, and consequently included them in

your accusation.

MONK.—I was speaking to the Genevese only.

AMBAS.—You said: ‘Avoid these wicked modern heretics, these Germans, as

you would lepers and unclean persons. Do not let them marry your

daughters, you had better give them to the dogs.’

MONK.—I deny having preached that article.

AMBAS.—You said: ‘That the modern heretics, who will not obey the pope

or the cardinals, bishops, and curates, are on that account the devil’s

flock and worse than mad dogs ... and ought to be hanged on the

gallows.’

MONK.—That is an article of faith, and I have not to answer for it

before you.

PREMIER-SYNDIC.—You are commanded to answer.

MONK.—I shall not answer.

PREMIER-SYNDIC.—The charge is confessed.

AMBAS.—‘Most honored lords, we belong to those who read Scripture in the

vulgar tongue. We belong to those who hold our Lord as _sole head of the

Church_, as its everlasting and sovereign pastor; and, moreover, we are

Germans; and for this reason we believe the said articles have been

uttered against us. If we were what these articles say, we should

deserve corporal punishment; and therefore we demand, in terms of the

_lex talionis_, that the said preacher be visited with a punishment

similar to that which we should have incurred.’

The reasoning of the ambassador was not irrefutable. Envoys from Zurich,

Basle, and other Evangelical cantons, even from the landgrave of Hesse

or the elector of Saxony might just as well accuse the monk of having

insulted them. But it is precisely this which explains the conduct of

the Bernese deputies. Protestantism had been abused, its fundamental

principles trampled under foot. The Bernese did not prosecute the monk

in order to avenge a personal affront; what they wanted was to see the

Word of God set in the place of the word of the pope, and the

Reformation established in Geneva. The Gospel was on trial and not my

lords of Berne; but the latter considered themselves the champions of

the Reformation in Switzerland, and when enemies attacked it, they

thought it their duty to defend it. To have kept out of the lists would

have been disobedience to the supreme judge of the combat. The

ambassadors brought up fourteen witnesses ready to swear that the monk

had said what was ascribed to him.[447]

Furbity seeing no other means of escape, determined to fight for Rome.

On Thursday, 29th January, a rumor spread through the city that the monk

would hold a discussion with the reformers. The Two Hundred, and a

certain number of other citizens, met in the Hotel de Ville to be

present at this important struggle.

One of the tourneys of the Reformation at Geneva was about to begin; the

two combatants were in the lists. On one side the Dominican, the

champion of Rome, came forward with scholastic learning that was not to

be despised, a front of adamant, lungs strong enough to reduce all his

rivals to silence, and a tongue furnished with an inexhaustible flow of

words.[448] At once violent and skilful, he made use of every weapon,

and possessed a particular art of glozing over his errors and rendering

them less apparent.[449] On the other side was Farel, less experienced

than his rival in the tricks of dialectics, but full of love for the

truth, firm as a warrior advancing to defend it, and ready to confound

the monk’s scholastic arguments by the invincible demonstrations of the

Scriptures of God. Possessing a manly eloquence and sonorous voice, his

clear, energetic, and at times ironical language, did prompt justice

upon the sophisms of his adversaries[450].

The reformer rose first and said: ‘This is a serious business; let us

therefore speak with all mildness. Let not one strive to get the better

of the other. We can have no nobler triumph than to see the truth

prevail. So that it be acknowledged by all, I willingly consent to

forfeit my life.’ Touched by his words, the assembly exclaimed: ‘Yes,

yes! that is what we desire.’

Furbity began by asserting the authority of the pope. He maintained that

the heads of the Church may ordain things that are not in Scripture, and

to prove it, he quoted Deuteronomy: ‘If there arise a matter too hard

for thee in judgment, thou shalt come unto the priests, and thou shalt

observe to do according to all that they inform thee.’[451]

Farel, on the contrary, maintained the authority of the Holy Scriptures,

and declared that all doctrine must be founded on them alone. He called

to mind that God, in this very book of Moses, had said: ‘_Ye shall not

add unto the Word which I command you, neither shall you diminish aught

from it_.’[452] ‘What is said of the Levitical priest in the Old

Testament (he added) ought to be applied, not to the Romish priests, but

to Jesus Christ, who is the everlasting high-priest. To him, therefore,

we must go, him we must obey, and not the priest.’[453] ‘Christ,’

exclaimed Furbity, ‘gave to St. Peter the key of the kingdom of heaven,

and St. Peter transmitted it to the priests, his successors.’ ‘The key

of the heavenly kingdom,’ answered Farel, ‘is the Word of God. If any

one believes in the promises of grace with all his heart, heaven opens

for him. If any one rejects them, heaven is closed against him.’

As it was growing late, the discussion was adjourned to the next day,

and Furbity said haughtily that he was ready. A voice from the midst of

the crowd called out: ‘Endeavor to hold more to the Word of God and less

to the teaching of the Sorbonne.’ ‘I shall behave like a man,’ he

answered. ‘If the strength of a man consists in his want of sense, then

you are a true man,’ rudely returned the speaker.

The next day the discussion entered upon a new phase.

[Sidenote: Interpretation By The Councils.]

Farel maintained throughout the right and duty of the Christian people

to read the Scriptures, to understand them, and to submit to them alone.

Furbity, on the contrary, asserted that the Scriptures should be read by

the clergy only, and understood conformably with the interpretation of

the councils. He proved his point by reasons which might have some force

in the eyes of his friends, but they had none for Farel, who maintained

the necessity of the immediate contact of each Christian soul with the

Scriptures of God. It was not from councils (he contended) nor from

popes, but from the Word of God itself that every Christian must receive

by faith the truth which saves. The first assembly at Jerusalem

(ordinarily termed the first council), was it not, according to the

account in the Acts, composed of apostles, elders, and of the _whole

church_, and did it not begin its letter with: ‘The apostles and elders

and _brethren_’? Defending, therefore, the rights of the lay members of

the flock, he declaimed energetically against the institution of all

those dignitaries who, in the Romish Church, are _lords over God’s

heritage_: ‘You invent all sorts of things,’ he said to the

Dominican,[454] ‘you introduce diversities of orders, a countless number

of eminences, bishops, prelates, archbishops, primates, cardinals,

popes, and other superiorities of which Scripture makes no mention. You

do everything to your own fancy, without any regard to God or the right.

The apostles took counsel with the whole assembly of the believers, but

you ... you do everything, you are everything! ... you cut and shape as

you please. The Christian people are no more called by you into council

than dogs and brutes. Your ordinances must be adored, and those of God

be trodden under foot. Your papal monarchy surpasses all others in

pride, pomp, and feasting. You want those who are to teach the people to

be princes with lordships, estates, law-courts, and governments. You

want to have a rich triumphant Jesus, who shall put to death all who

contradict him.... Ah! sirs, the Saviour was not such here below: he was

poor, humble, put to death, and his disciples were banished, imprisoned,

stoned, and killed.... What similarity is there between the Apostolic

Church and yours?... The supreme argument in yours is the

executioner.... The apostles did not, like you, fulminate fierce

excommunications; they did not, like you, imprison and condemn.... No!

Jesus is not in the midst of you. He is in the midst of those who are

expelled, beaten, burnt for the Gospel, as the martyrs were in the time

of the primitive Church.’

[Sidenote: Farel’s Thunders.]

The reformer’s energetic words sounded like a peal of thunder to his

antagonist. Furbity was confounded and bewildered; his ideas became

confused; he lost his presence of mind, and, wishing to establish the

doctrine of the episcopate as it is understood at Rome, he quoted the

verse in which it is said that a bishop ought to be _the husband of one

wife_, which greatly amused the assembly. He did more: desiring to prove

that there had been bishops of the Roman model in the apostolic times,

he mentioned Judas Iscariot. ‘It is written of Judas,’ he said, ‘his

bishopric let another take: _Episcopatum suum accipiat alter_. As Judas

had a bishopric, he must of necessity have been a bishop;’ and he

concluded there was no salvation out of the Roman episcopate. The doctor

had not kept his promise to behave _like a man_. Farel smiled at the

strange argument, and began to lash the Dominican with the scourge of

irony. ‘As you have quoted that good bishop, Judas,’ he said, ‘Judas,

who sold the Saviour of the world; as you have asserted that he had a

diocese, pray tell me in what part of the Roman empire it lay, and how

much it was worth, according to the customary language of Rome. That

bishop, whose name you use, is very like certain prelates who, instead

of preaching the Word of God, _carry the bag_,[455] and instead of

glorifying Jesus Christ, sell him by selling his members, whose souls

they hand over to the devil, receiving money from him in exchange.’[456]

The monk, astonished at such boldness, again exclaimed in a threatening

manner: ‘Go and repeat what you say at Paris, or any other city of

France.’ So sure was he that the evangelist would be sent to the stake

there that he could not refrain from repeating such a peremptory

argument. It was all that Farel would have desired: ‘Would to God that I

were allowed to explain my faith publicly,’ he said; ‘I should prove it

by Holy Scripture, and if I did not, I would consent to be put to

death.’

As the discussion went on, the feelings grew inflamed on both sides—some

defending Furbity, others supporting Farel.

No one was more assiduous at this verbal tournament than Baudichon de la

Maisonneuve; he accompanied the evangelical champion, both as he went to

the meeting and returned from it, being unwilling to leave to others the

care of protecting his person. The catholics did not fail to notice the

constant goings and comings of the great citizen; it quite shocked them:

his intimacy with the detested heretic seemed to them most disgraceful.

A young man of five-and-twenty, named Delorme, who was born at Fontenay,

a league and a half from the city, and who for upwards of a year had

been following his business with a relative in Geneva, specially watched

Baudichon, and was surprised to see so great a gentleman pay such

frequent visits to the poor preacher, Farel.[457] He made a note of it,

which, on a future day he made use of.

The disputation went on all through Friday. The market on Saturday, the

services on Sunday, and the Feast of the Purification which fell on

Monday, interrupted it for three days. The three ministers took

advantage of the leisure given them to preach to the people with fervor.

Each day they proclaimed the Gospel in the large hall of their friend’s

house, and Baudichon watched to see that everything went on in an

orderly manner—which was very necessary, for the sensation excited by

the discussion attracted large crowds. In the evening the evangelicals

met in different houses and conversed together until far into the night.

During the daytime they endeavored to attract to their assemblies such

as still hesitated between popery and the Reformation. ‘Ah,’ exclaimed

young Delorme with vexation, ‘see what efforts they are making to

increase their party.’[458] All Geneva was in a ferment.

[Sidenote: Tales About Farel.]

But the sensation was not confined to that city: the anger excited by

the discussions manifested itself in violent speeches in the surrounding

districts. The idle, the curious, and the devout would stop and question

travellers ‘to learn the great news from Geneva which they so desired to

know.’[459] Many priests and monks preached in the villages round the

city against _heretics_ and _heresy_; and in Geneva, as well as in other

places through which Farel had passed, there was always some friar or

old woman to tell strange stories about the reformer. ‘He has no whites

to his eyes,’ they would say; ‘his beard is red and stiff, and there is

a devil in every hair of it. He has horns on his head, and his feet are

cloven like a bullock’s.... Lastly—and this seemed more horrible than

all the rest—he is the son of a Jew of Carpentras.’[460]

All these stories, flying about the city, reached the Tête-Noire inn,

where the Bernese and the three reformers lodged. The domestic life of

this hostelry was not edifying. The landlord (according to the

chronicle) had two wives: his lawful spouse and a servant who acted as

the mistress. The former, an upright person, behaved becomingly to the

preachers of the Gospel, though she did not like them; but the other

woman detested them, and every time they entered the house, both master

and servant scowled at them. They restrained themselves however before

the illustrious lords of Berne, greeting them with forced smiles; but

made up for it when they were alone with the preachers. The latter

usually dined together; and the landlord and servant, while waiting on

them, heard language from the lips of the evangelists which greatly

provoked them. Instead of the idle stories and jests so common at the

dinner-table, the three ministers would exchange words of truth with one

another; and this conversation, so new to the two listeners, caused them

to make wry faces (as Froment records, who saw them). The three guests

had scarcely quitted the room when the servant, who had restrained

herself, would cry out after them: ‘Heretics! traitors! brigands!

huguenots! Germans!’ ... ‘I had rather,’ said the landlord, ‘that they

went away without paying (that was saying a great deal), provided it was

a long way off ... so long that we should never see them again.’ These

two wretched people felt that the doctrine of the Bible condemned their

disorderly lives, and the hatred they felt towards the holiness of God’s

Word was vented on those who proclaimed it.

‘The adulterous servant, unable to serve the preachers as Herodias

served John the Baptist,’ says Froment, ‘avenged herself in another

manner.’ Addressing one of those women who prate at random about

everything: ‘Only imagine what I have seen,’ said she; ‘one night as the

preachers were going to bed, I stole up softly after them, and,

approaching the door, I peeped through a hole.... What did I see? They

were _feeding devils_!’ The neighbor’s dismay did not hinder the servant

from continuing: ‘These devils were like black cats ... their eyes

flashed fire, their claws were crooked and pointed ... they were under

the table ... moving backwards and forwards.... Yes; I saw them through

the hole.’ In a short time all the gossips of the quarter knew it; ‘at

which there was a great stir in the neighborhood.’[461]

To this story of the servant, the priests added theirs, and said: ‘There

are three devils in Geneva in the form of men—Farel, Viret, Froment; and

many demoniacs. If ever you listen to those three goblins, they will

spring upon you, enter into your body, and you are done for.’[462] Not

satisfied merely with repeating such absurdities in their conversation,

the priests began to preach to the people upon ‘the three devils.’ Next

a song was written on them; and ere long the catholic mob went up and

down the streets singing these rude rhymes:—

Farel farera,

Viret virera,

Froment on moudra,

Dieu nous aidera

Et le diable les emportera.[463]

The popular epigram was mistaken. At the very moment when the catholics

were singing it about the city, tragic events were coming that were to

change everything in Geneva. It was the Roman Church that was about to

_veer_ and popery to depart.

Footnote 445:

Registre du Conseil des 10, 11, 12 Janvier, 1534.—Ruchat, iii. p. 251,

252.—MSC. de Gautier.

Footnote 446:

Registre du Conseil des 25 et 26 Janvier, 1534.—MSC. de Roset, liv.

ii. ch. xviii. etc.

Footnote 447:

Registre du Conseil du 27 Janvier, 1534.—_Lettres certaines d’aucuns

grands troubles._

Footnote 448:

Furbito homine sinuoso, cui firma latera, frons ferrea.—_Geneva

restituta_, p. 68.

Footnote 449:

Pictæ tectoria linguæ.—_Persius._

Footnote 450:

Farello pro veritate strenue stante, etc.—_Geneva restituta._

Footnote 451:

Deuteronomy xvii. 8-10.

Footnote 452:

Deuteronomy iv. 2.