Footnote 453:

Farel indicated the passages taken from the following chapters:

Hebrews v. to x.; Romans xiv.; Matthew v.; Luke xxiv.; John v. viii.

xii. xiv.; Romans xv.; Galatians i.; Deuteronomy xviii.

Footnote 454:

_Lettres certaines_, &c., by Farel.

Footnote 455:

Au lieu de porter la Parole de Dieu, portent la bourse.

Footnote 456:

_Lettres certaines._

Footnote 457:

MSC. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 80.

Footnote 458:

Ibid. p. 81.

Footnote 459:

_Lettres certaines d’aucuns grands troubles_, &c. This work, which is

dated Geneva, 1st April 1534, and consequently appeared two months

after the discussion, is the principal source whence we have taken our

account of these discussions.

Footnote 460:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 86.

Footnote 461:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 85.

Footnote 462:

Ibid.

Footnote 463:

Farel shall depart, Viret shall veer (go away); Froment (corn) shall

be ground in the mill; God will help us, and the devil shall run away

with them all. Froment’s _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 84-86.

CHAPTER V.

THE PLOT.

(JANUARY AND FEBRUARY 1534.)

[Sidenote: Christendom In Sixteenth Century.]

In the sixteenth century a consciousness of justice, truth, and liberty

was awakening throughout Christendom, and men were beginning to protest

everywhere, particularly in Geneva, at the lamentable perversions of

social and religious life imposed by popery in times gone by. But the

expiring Middle Ages rose energetically against this awakening which was

to condemn them to be reckoned among the dead. The object of the

struggle going on was to secure the triumph of the Reformation—or, as

others expressed it, the triumph of progress and civilization. This

struggle is the supreme interest of history. The intrigues of courts,

and even the battles of armies, which are more pleasing to certain

minds, are trifles in comparison with these mighty movements of

humanity. Nevertheless, if they had their grandeur and their necessity,

they had their danger also. To preserve the ship, launched into the open

sea, from striking upon the treacherous shoals of disorder and

libertinage, it was necessary that the Lord should command it. At the

time when mankind were breaking the secular chains of popery and the

fantastic institutions of feudalism, it was necessary they should cleave

to the sovereign Master, who alone gives the breath of life to

individuals and to nations. If England has so long enjoyed the precious

fruits of liberty, and if France has not yet been able to secure them,

it is because the former welcomed the Reformation and the latter

rejected it. One of the great evils springing out of popery was the

blunting of the moral sense; and the revival of the sixteenth century

was a moral revival. In catholicism there were sincere men; but

everything was good in their eyes, provided they attained an end which

they believed to be glorious. And hence, strange to say, pretended

preservers of order easily became assassins.

[Sidenote: Meditated Coup-D’-État.]

The Bishop of Geneva watched attentively from his silent priory all that

was passing in his diocese, at that time so strangely agitated. He

desired to reascend his double throne, and still hoped to reëstablish

the authority of the prince and the pope in the city. Many catholics,

especially at the courts of the bishop and the duke, could really see

nothing in this reformation of doctrine but ‘a popular tumult, which

would be of short duration.’ ‘The aspect of affairs will soon change,’

they said.[464] Perhaps if Calvin had not come, this prophecy might have

been fulfilled; but others saw things in darker colors. The _tempest of

Luther_ would, in their opinion, upset everything; the same wave that

now threatened the power of the pontiff would ere long sweep away the

power of kings. Men did not know how to act that they might prevent such

a misfortune; and the most decided said plainly, that the only means of

saving Geneva was to set up one supreme magistrate. Did not the Romans

create dictators in the hour of extreme peril? All these councils of

Twenty-five, of Sixty, of Two Hundred, and, above all, the General

Council of the people were (the Episcopals thought) both useless and

pernicious. The administration ought to be placed in the hands of one

man, and be given preferably to one of the lords of Friburg. The fervent

catholicism of that canton and its resentment at Wernli’s death

guaranteed the fidelity with which the mission would be fulfilled. It

does not appear that anything was decided about the selection; but the

bishop made up his mind to attempt a bold stroke of policy. Having come

to an understanding with the Duke of Savoy,[465] he signed at Arbois the

instruments which set up in Geneva a _Lieutenant of the prince_ in

temporal matters _with full powers of punishing criminals_. The document

was immediately forwarded to Portier, the episcopal secretary, the

bishop’s confidential man, who was to determine, in accordance with the

heads of the party, the favorable moment and the best means of carrying

it into execution. On his side the duke did not keep them waiting for

assistance. Portier received blank warrants, sealed with the ducal arms,

with authority to use them as he pleased, so as to bring the matter to a

happy issue. The plot was skilfully devised. The court of Turin, the

lords of Friburg, and the mamelukes were all to assist the bishop; but,

according to the received formula, ‘God was there and the republic of

Berne.’[466]

Indeed, it seemed at first that the instrument was destined to remain

mere waste paper. The episcopal plot existed; the deed had been signed

by the prince-bishop on the 12th of January, but on the first of

February it was still a dead letter. Portier, aware of the spirit with

which the citizens were animated, feared to make the episcopal ordinance

known, either to magistrates or people. Privately, however, he discussed

with some of his confidants the means of putting it into execution;

among them were two brothers named Pennet, one of whom was the episcopal

jailer. The bishop’s partisans at Geneva, as well as at Arbois and

Turin, thought that logical discussions only did harm: that they should

have recourse to more vigorous measures; that force only would constrain

the Genevese to bend their necks to the yoke; and, finally, that a riot

which disturbed the public peace would be, even if it failed, the best

means of justifying the nomination of a lieutenant invested with

absolute power. Some hot-headed episcopals, and particularly the two

Pennets, the _séides_ of the party, resolved to act immediately: ‘They

undertook, with several others, to spill much blood,’ says a document

written a few days after the affair.[467]

[Sidenote: Two Huguenots Assassinated.]

On Tuesday, 3d February, the most excitable of the episcopal party met

at the palace: Pennet, the jailer, his brother Claude, Jacques Desel,

and several others. It was after dinner. Inflamed by the desire of

saving the authority of the prince and the pope, excited by the

ordinance which they had hitherto kept by them, and irritated at seeing

Furbity, the Dominican, contradicted by Farel and prosecuted by the

Bernese, perhaps also (as some have believed) acting under positive

orders emanating from the bishop, these men armed themselves and issued

from the palace, ‘proposing to strike and kill the others,’ says the

document which we have just quoted. These fanatics—we believe them to

have been sincere, but unhappily of opinion that to stab a heretic was

one of the most meritorious works to win heaven—these fanatics entered

the court of St. Pierre’s. Just as they came in front of the steps, and

the large platform on which the white marble portal of the cathedral

opens, they met two huguenots, Nicholas Porral, the notary, and Stephen

d’Adda.[468] Their blood boiled at the sight of the two heretics: Pennet

the jailer drew his sword, sprung at Porral, struck him; and, seeing him

fall, impudently continued his way, with his band, by the Rue du Perron

to the Molard, the rallying ground of all rioters. D’Adda, and some

other huguenots who had come up, surrounded the wounded Porral, lifted

him up, and, wishing to stop the commencing riot as soon as possible,

carried him to the hotel-de-ville, and laid him, all pale and bleeding,

before the syndics and the council.

The magistrates were moved at the sight as of old—if we may compare the

great things of antiquity with the little things that inaugurated modern

times—as of old the corpse of Cæsar, gashed with wounds and carried

through the Forum, excited the indignation and cries of the startled

people. D’Adda informed the syndics of Pennet’s violent attack, and

called for the punishment of the assassin. But he had scarcely ceased

speaking when a great noise was heard from without: the court-yard of

the hotel-de-ville was filled with agitated citizens; tumultuous shouts

were raised, the gates of the hall were dashed open and ‘incontinent

(says the Register) many people rushed in furiously crying out: Justice!

justice!’ An estimable man, a worthy tradesman and zealous huguenot,

Nicholas Berger by name, who lived in the Rue du Perron, happened to be

in his shop just as the band, which had wounded Porral, was passing by.

Attracted by the noise, he had probably moved towards the door: Claude

Pennet observing him, stopped, and, as if jealous of his brother’s

exploit, sprung at the unarmed citizen, and with one blow of his dagger,

laid him dead at his feet. ‘All good men,’ added the citizens, ‘are

filled with horror, and demand that the criminal be punished according

to law.’

This event was not without importance. It was a new act in that

obstinate struggle which, at the beginning of the sixteenth century,

took place in a permanent manner in a little city on the shore of the

Leman lake, and was repeated in other shapes in other countries.

Combatants do not cross a frontier without marking their path by their

blood. Those who were then fighting the last battles of what may be

called the iron age, believed they were serving the cause of justice.

Impartial history shrinks from tracing too hideous a picture of these

insolent champions of Rome and feudalism. Even at Geneva, where they

were perhaps more violent than elsewhere, they were not all devoid of

generous sentiments. Undoubtedly many were animated by party-spirit; but

there were some also who desired the good of their country. In their

eyes, both religion and order were compromised by the alliance between

Switzerland and the Reformation, and that sacred cause could only be

upheld, they thought, by the energetic intervention of the episcopal

party. They were mistaken; but their error did not lie essentially in

that. The great evil consisted in the corruption of their moral sense by

the principles of a fanatical bigotry, so that all means appeared good

to attain their end; all—even the dagger.

While the people were demanding justice for a double murder, there was a

great uproar in the city: the drums beat, and everybody ran to arms. The

citizens, who wanted independence and reform, exclaimed that the

bishop’s followers, unable to vanquish them by words, desired to triumph

over them by the _mandosse_ (a sort of Spanish sword). ‘It is the fifth

riot the priests have got up to save the mass,’ they said, as they took

up their arms, not to attack but to support the established authorities.

The council was astounded at the news of Berger’s death. All its members

were opposed to such crimes; but three of the four syndics were

catholics: Du Crest, Claude Baud, and Malbuisson, and the councillors

were usually divided in the same proportion as the syndics. Besides

which, Portier, who headed the band, was the accredited agent of the

prince-bishop, whose authority the council desired to maintain. The

syndics were discussing what was to be done, when the ambassadors of

Berne demanded to speak with the council. The noble lords, who usually

maintained such a cold attitude, were much excited: ‘As we were coming

up to the hotel-de-ville,’ they said, ‘all the persons we met were

running to arms. It is to be feared that there will be a great butchery

(_tuerie_); we conjure you to look to it, and offer our services to

appease the disturbance.’ The premier syndic prayed them to do so; and,

when the Bernese had left, the council continued its deliberations.

Meanwhile, the principle huguenots had met in consultation. Two of their

friends had just fallen beneath the blows of their adversaries: one of

them was dead; their party had taken up arms; Portier and the Pennets

had fled in alarm; the catholic faction was discouraged. In this state

of things it would have been easy for them to fall upon their

adversaries and gain a decisive victory; but sentiments of order and

legality prevailed among them. They had no desire to infringe the law

but to appeal to it; there were judges in Geneva. Blood must be avenged,

not by violence but by justice. ‘No disorder,’ said the huguenot chiefs,

‘no revenge, no attack, no fighting! ... but let us help the magistrates

that they may be able to do their duty.’ Five hundred armed citizens,

the most valiant men in Geneva, arrived in good order and drew up in

front of the hotel-de-ville, while their chiefs—Maisonneuve, Salomon,

Perrin, and Aimé Levet—went into the council-room. ‘Honored lords,’ they

said, ‘we have assembled for no other reason than to preserve order. We

fear lest the priests have prepared a fourth or fifth _émeute_; and

hence we are here in a body to avoid their fury and lend assistance to

the syndics. We pray that the murderers and those who counselled the

riot may be punished.’[469] There was not a moment’s hesitation: all,

catholics and protestants alike, desired the guilty to be punished, and

search was made for them.

[Sidenote: The Bishop’s Palace Searched.]

It was thought that they were hiding in the bishop’s palace: it was

probable, indeed, that secretary Portier, who lived there, had gone

thither and given a refuge to his accomplices, as being the safest place

in all Geneva. ‘We will go and take them there,’ said Syndic Du Crest, a

catholic but loyal man. The other syndics rose, and all quitted the

hotel-de-ville followed by their officers. At the imposing sight of the

chief magistrates of the city, demanding an entrance into the palace,

the bishop’s servants opened the doors, and a strict search began

immediately. Not a chamber or a cellar or a garret escaped the

inquisitive eyes of the magistrates and their sergeants; ‘but for all

the pains they took,’ says the ‘Council Register,’ ‘none of the culprits

were found.’ Many believed they had escaped; Perronnette alone, the

episcopal secretary’s wife, seeing the vigor with which the assassins

were hunted after, felt her anguish doubled as to the fate of her

husband. The syndics, wishing to prevent new intrigues, resolved to

leave a few of their officers in the episcopal mansion, with orders to

keep guard during the night. The men stationed themselves in the

vestibule to wait for the morning; but no one in the city knew they were

there.

These brave men were talking of what was going on in Geneva, when a

little before eight o’clock at night (it had been dark for some time, as

it was the beginning of February), a low, smothered voice was heard in

the street, as if some one was speaking through the key-hole. The guards

listened. The voice was heard again and pronounced several times in a

distinct manner the name of the portress. ‘It was a priest softly

calling to the servant,’ says the ‘Council Register.’ The huguenots,

understanding instantly the advantage they could derive from this

unexpected circumstance, desired a young man who was with them to

imitate a woman’s voice and answer. Disguising his tones, he said: ‘What

do you want?’ The priest having no doubts about the sex and functions of

the speaker, said (still in a low voice) that he wanted certain keys for

Mr. Secretary Portier and Claude Pennet. It is probable they wished to

use them to hide in some safer place, and perhaps leave the city by a

secret gate. The young man, again assuming a female voice, said: ‘What

will you do with them?’ ‘I shall take them to St. Pierre’s church, where

they are hidden,’ answered the priest. It was just what the guard wanted

to know. One of them got up, opened the gate, and the priest, seeing an

armed man instead of a woman, fled in affright. The guard, without

stopping to pursue him, ran to the hotel-de-ville, where the council was

sitting _en permanence_, and told the whole story to the syndics. The

murderers whom they were looking for were hidden in the cathedral. The

magistrates determined to go there immediately.

[Sidenote: The Search.]

It was no slight task to seek the assassins in the vast cathedral, all

filled with chapels, altars, and other places where men could hide. The

syndics entered between eight and nine o’clock at night with a certain

number of officers carrying flambeaux. The doors were shut immediately,

so that no one could get out, and a dead silence prevailed in the nave.

Under the flickering light of the torches, this pile, one of the finest

monuments of the twelfth century, displayed all its august majesty. But

that splendor of byzantine and gothic architecture, those graceful

proportions, that admirable unity so well calculated to produce a deep

impression of grandeur and harmony, did not strike My Lords of Geneva,

who were thinking of other matters. Du Crest and his colleagues were not

occupied with architectural decorations and holy images.... They were

hunting for murderers.

The search began: the magistrates and their officers went over the

chapels of the Holy Cross, the Virgin, St. Martin, St. Maurice, St.

Anthony, and nine others in the interior; they examined carefully the

eighteen altars, so richly adorned with all that the catholic worship

requires. The sergeants took their flambeaux into every corner, they

lifted up the carpets, they stooped to search for the culprits. The

apse, the transept, the sanctuary, they searched them all; they examined

the vestry, the stalls, the aisles, the galleries, the stairs—they found

nothing. They next went into the chapel of the Maccabees, adjoining the

cathedral, and which the cardinal-bishop, Jean de Brogny, had built a

century before, adorning it with magnificent carvings, gorgeous

paintings, and mouldings enriched with beads of gold. They passed by

those tables where might still be seen a young man keeping swine under

an oak, the cardinal desiring in this manner to recall the humble

recollections of his early life; but neither Portier, nor Pennet, nor

any of their accomplices could be found. The search had lasted nearly

three hours, and the magistrates and their officers were beginning to

lose all hope, when the idea occurred to one of them that possibly the

murderers they were looking after might be hidden in one of the three

towers. The syndics and their suite resolved to examine them, beginning

with the south tower, one hundred and fifty feet high. As they climbed

the numerous steps, they thought that, if the evidence of the priest was

true, the criminals must be there, and they might perhaps find not only

Portier and the Pennets, but a band of their friends well armed. The

stairs being very narrow, it would have been easy for the episcopals to

close the passage and even to kill some of those who were looking after

them. The men who executed the syndic’s orders ascended slowly and

steadily, and approached the great steeple with its four gothic windows

surmounted by semi-circular arches. The steps of this numerous party

re-echoed through the winding staircase. The officer of the Council, who

marched at the head of the band, having reached the top of the tower,

carefully put forward his torch and saw arms glittering and eyes

sparkling in one corner. He drew near, followed by his friends, and

discovered the crafty Portier and the violent Pennet, crouching down,

‘armed,’ says the Register, ‘with swords, iron pikes, axes, and daggers,

and covered with coats of mail.’ The two malefactors, although armed to

the teeth, did not think of defending themselves: they were more dead

than alive. The officers of the State seized them and shut them up in

the prison of the hotel-de-ville.[470]

[Sidenote: The Plot Discovered.]

While these things were going on at St. Pierre’s, the guard which the

syndics had left at the palace, encouraged by the success of their

stratagem, had resolved to take advantage of the opportunity to get at

the secrets of the house; and, assuming a simple, good-natured air, they

entered into conversation with the servants, questioning them so

skilfully that they soon knew all they wanted. ‘The bishop’s secretary,

alone and without support, is too weak,’ they said, ‘to withstand the

will of the council and people.’ ‘But he is not so _alone_ as you

think,’ answered one; ‘he has with him my lord the bishop, his highness

the Duke of Savoy;’ and then he continued proudly, ‘he has even received

letters from them!’ The independent citizens, affecting incredulity,

exclaimed! ‘What! Portier receive secret messages from such great

personages!’ ... One of the episcopals, piqued by the disdainful sneer,

declared aloud, ‘that the letters were in existence, _in buffeto_ (says

the Council Register, in its classic Latin), in the secretary’s buffet.’

At these words the sly huguenots started up suddenly, and, hurrying in

great glee to Portier’s room, broke open the cupboard, took out the

papers lying there, and carried them to the syndics. This discovery was

still more important than the other.

The magistrates hastened to open the packet, and found a bundle of

papers, all having reference to the plot which the bishop had contrived

for the subjugation of Geneva. They examined the contents and were

alarmed. ‘Here is an act signed by the bishop on the 12th of January

last,—only twenty days ago,—appointing a governor for the temporalities,

with power to punish rebels. The prince, of his mere caprice,

establishes an unconstitutional agent, who is to have no other law than

his own will. Here are blank warrants sealed with the arms of the Dukes

of Savoy. It is a downright conspiracy, a crime of high-treason.’ The

date of the act made it sufficiently clear that Pierre de la Baume was

the instigator of the troubles which had been on the point of throwing

the city into confusion. It was determined that Portier, the recognized

agent of this revolutionary intrigue, should be tried before the

syndics; and a public prosecutor, Jean Lambert, a sound huguenot, was

elected to conduct the proceedings.[471]

However, before commencing this trial, that of Pennet, less complicated

than the other, was to be concluded. The case was clear, provided for by

the law, and not pardonable. Claude Pennet stood forward boldly, like a

man enduring persecution for the Christian religion. He was convicted of

having murdered Nicholas Berger in his shop at the Perron, and Syndic du

Crest, a catholic but a wise man, pronounced the sentence of death. This

made no change in Pennet’s manner. He did not repent the deed he had

done: fanaticism stifled the voice of conscience in him. It was the same

with all his friends, zealots of the Roman party. In them passion took

the place of reason, and they boasted of the murder as an honorable,

holy, and heroic act. Pennet asked to see Furbity, the Dominican, who

was detained in prison for having insulted the adversaries of Rome. The

monk of the order of the Inquisition was conducted to the murderer’s

cell, ‘and when they saw each other they could not forbear from

weeping,’ says the nun of St. Claire.[472] Pennet wished to die piously:

‘therefore this good catholic made his confession.’ ... ‘I am condemned

to the scaffold for the love of Jesus Christ,’ he said to the Dominican,

‘and I entreat your holy prayers.’ The reverend father, moved to tears

by the piety and wretched fate of this precious son of the Church,

kissed him, and said: ‘Sire Claude, go cheerfully and rejoice in your

martyrdom, nothing doubting; for the kingdom of heaven is open and the

angels are waiting for you.’[473]

[Sidenote: Pennet’s Execution And Miracles.]

The murder of which Pennet was guilty was, in the Dominican’s eyes, the

work of a saint. Most of the episcopals thought the same; and it was

feared that their party, which had the populace with them, would oppose

the execution of the sentence. De la Maisonneuve, determining to support

the law by force, collected a certain number of armed men in his

house.[474] But their intervention was not necessary. Nothing disturbed

the course of justice, and the executioner cut off the murderer’s head,

and hung his body on a gibbet. Before long, the populace was in

commotion. ‘Have you heard the news?’ people said. ‘Miracles are worked

at the place where Pennet’s body hangs. His face is as ruddy and his

lips as fresh as if he was alive, and a white dove is continually

hovering over his head.’ The devout made pilgrimages to the place of

execution.

The other Pennet, the jailer who had wounded Porral, and who, says

Sister Jeanne, ‘was not less ardent than his brother in upholding the

holy catholic religion,’ was all this time lying hid in the house of a

poor beggar-woman, where the nuns of St. Claire, who alone were in the

secret, stealthily carried him food. The execution of his brother

alarmed him; so one night, when it froze hard, he left his hiding-place

barefoot, and arrived stealthily at the convent of St. Claire, where the

nuns provided him with a disguise, in which he escaped to Savoy.

The third delinquent,—the State criminal, Portier,—remained. The matter

appeared so serious to the procurator-general that he desired it should

be communicated to the people. The Council General having met on the 8th

February, Lambert ordered the letters found at the palace, as well as

the duke’s blank warrants, to be read to the assembly. ‘What! a governor

of Geneva invested with the temporalities of the sovereign power, with

authority to punish citizens who maintain their political and religious

rights; the constitution of the State trampled under foot by the

prince-bishop; and the Duke of Savoy, that eternal enemy of Genevan

independence, forcibly aiding this usurpation and violence!’ All this

constituted a guilty plot, even in the eyes of right-minded catholics.

The voice of the people and the voice of justice were in harmony. The

procurator-general demanded that Portier should be brought before his

judges. The trial was much slower than that of the two Pennets had been,

for the Roman-catholics made every effort to save him, and even offered

large sums of money. But the procurator-general and the huguenots

represented continually that ‘there was a conspiracy against the

liberties of the city;’ it was not possible to save the episcopal

secretary.

Yet Portier and his agents had merely begun to carry out the orders they

had received; the bishop was the real criminal. His quality of prince

covered his person, so that, even had he been in Geneva, not a hair of

his head would have fallen. But Pierre de la Baume was to receive the

punishment, which, by the will of God, falls upon unjust princes. He had

desired to employ his power for the purpose of oppression, and God

shattered that power. When the sealed letters of the bishop which gave

Geneva a dictator were read in the assembly of the people, the citizens

were shocked; a sullen silence betrayed their indignation; they seemed

to hear the funeral knell of an ancient dynasty that had departed. The

Genevese determined to break with the episcopal traditions, and to raise

to the government none but men known by their attachment to the union of

Geneva with Switzerland and to the cause of the Reformation. While,

among the syndics retiring from office, there was only one who belonged

to this category, four friends of independence were called by the people

to the first position in the State. They were Michael Sept, one of the

huguenots who, in 1526, had fled to Berne, and had brought back the

Swiss alliance; Ami de Chapeaurouge, Aimé Curtet, and J. Duvillard. The

executive council thus became a huguenot majority. It was the episcopal

conspiracy that struck the decisive blow, that threw wide open the

hitherto half-open door, and permitted the victorious Reformation to

enter the city.[475]

Footnote 464:

Crespin, _Actes des Martyrs_, p. 114.

Footnote 465:

MSC. de Roset, liv. iii. ch. xxi.—MSC. de Gautier.

Footnote 466:

Registre du Conseil des 8 et 10 Février, 1534.

Footnote 467:

_Lettres certaines_, 1534.

Footnote 468:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 245.—_Chron. msc._ de Roset.—_Hist.

msc._ de Gauthier.—Registre du Conseil.

Footnote 469:

Registre du Conseil du 3 Février, 1534.—MSC. de Roset, _Chron._ liv.

iii., ch. xix.—MSC. de Gautier.

Footnote 470:

Registre du Conseil du 3 Février, 1534. Spon. i. p. 516. Ruchat, iii.

p. 276. Balvignac, _Mèm. d’Archeologie_, iv. pp. 101-102.

Footnote 471:

Registre du Conseil des 3 et 8 Février, 1534. Ruchat, iii. p. 277.

Mém. de Gautier.

Footnote 472:

‘Quand se virent l’un l’autre, ne se purent tenir de pleurer.’—La Sœur

Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_.

Footnote 473:

Ibid. pp. 82-83.

Footnote 474:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 32.

Footnote 475:

Registre du Conseil des 8 et 10 Février, 1534.

CHAPTER VI.

A FINAL EFFORT OF ROMAN CATHOLICISM.

(FEBRUARY 10 TO MARCH 1, 1534.)

[Sidenote: Furbity Summoned Before The Council.]

Unequivocal tokens soon made known the change that had taken place.

Every one knew that the critical moment had arrived; but that it should

be salutary, it was necessary to enlighten the people and set distinctly

before them the end which it was proposed to attain. In all that

concerns religious questions, the first point is to understand them

thoroughly; vagueness always does injury to true religion. The

magistrates determined to make clear the points on which the discussion

turned, and accordingly the new syndics ordered Furbity to appear before

the Council. This body, which had called to their aid the deputies of

Berne and the three reformers, invited the monk to prove by the Holy

Scriptures, as he had promised, the doctrines he advanced. ‘In the first

place,’ they said, ‘you have accused those who eat meat, _which God hath

created to be received_,[476] of being worse than _Turks_.’—‘Sirs,’

answered the monk, ‘I confess that our Lord did not make the prohibition

of which I spoke; I will, therefore, prove my statement by the decrees

of St. Thomas.’—‘Ho! ho!’ said Farel, ‘you pretended to prove everything

by the Word of God; you even consented, in the opposite case, to be

burnt at the stake, and now ... you give up the Scriptures!’

They did not confine themselves to this question; the lords of Berne

proved by fourteen witnesses the other errors preached by Furbity; for

instance: that God will punish those who read the Scriptures in the

vulgar tongue, and that Christ had given the papacy to St. Peter. They

proved, also, the reality of the abuse uttered by the Dominican against

the reformed Christians, except, however, that a _German_ (a Swiss

German) was among the executioners of our Lord: it appeared that some

wag had invented the story to ridicule the monk. The Bernese declared

that, as the monk was, according to his own confession, only ‘a preacher

of the decrees of St. Thomas’ and a story-teller, justice ought to have

its course.

The Dominican began to be afraid, and offered to apologize in the

cathedral for the outrage to God and the lords of Berne. ‘We accept,’

said the premier syndic, ‘and you will afterwards quit Geneva and never

return under pain of death.’ The Dominican desired nothing better than

to get away as soon as possible.[477]

In consequence of this decision, the Dominican attended by his guard,

was led quietly to St. Pierre’s on Sunday, the 15th of February. He was

much agitated, walked hurriedly, and his mind was distracted with

contending emotions. On reaching the foot of the pulpit, he went into it

hastily, and, casting his eyes on the crowd which filled the church, his

confusion and embarrassment increased. He saw himself between two

powers—the horrible Bernese and the terrible Dominicans—and felt himself

unable to satisfy one without offending the other. He tried, however, to

recover himself, made the sign of the cross, said the _Ave Maria_, and

invoked the Virgin.... The Bernese looked surprised; but it was much

worse, when, instead of reading the retractation which the syndics had

given him, he began to skim it over, to wander from it, and finally to

say something quite different. One of the Bernese called to him: ‘Sir

Doctor, you have nothing to do here but to retract,’ and numerous voices

immediately seconded the remark. But the monk rambled wider than ever

from the question, hesitated, and became confused;[478] many of the

huguenots left their places, a great agitation pervaded the church, and

the patience of the congregation was becoming exhausted. ‘You are making

fools of us,’ they cried out to the monk. ‘Do not stuff our ears with

your usual nonsense. Come, a good _peccavi_!’[479] But there was no

retractation. A great uproar then arose; some violent men went up into

the pulpit, seized the disciple of St. Dominic, and dragged him down

roughly.[480] ‘They made the chair fall after him,’ says Sister Jeanne,

‘and he was nearly left dead on the spot’ (the good sister often colors

too highly). The catholics quitted the church in alarm, and the doctor

of the Sorbonne, having broken his promise, was led back to prison.[481]

The Bernese ambassadors next appeared before the Council, and asked

permission for the Gospel to be publicly preached in one of the

churches. The syndics replied that it was just what they wanted, and

that they would require the Lent preacher to conform his sermons to the

Gospel.

[Sidenote: Dominicans And Franciscans.]

The fanatical Dominican, empowered to deliver the Advent lectures,

having compromised catholicism, and the council having declared against

every preacher who should not preach according to God’s Word, the

Genevan clergy determined to make a last effort. They said they must

choose a monk of another sort for the Lent course, and consequently

turned to the Franciscans, who had often dreamt of a transformation of

religious society. There were great differences between these two

mendicant orders: the Dominicans were rich, the Franciscans poor; the

Dominicans aimed at dominion, the Franciscans at humility; the

Dominicans were fossilized in their doctrines and customs, the

Franciscans were flexible and had a taste for innovations. They knew how

to catch the multitude by their enthusiasm and flagellations, by their

insinuating manners and miraculous visions. It is a man of this sort,

said the oldest of the catholics, that we want after the Dominican. If

Geneva had resisted the roughness of the one, it would be captivated by

the flatteries of the other. In this manner the clergy hoped to lead

Geneva insensibly back into the arms of Rome.

Father Courtelier, superior of the Franciscans of Chambery, renowned for

his eloquence and wit, was invited to come and preach at Geneva during

Lent. He arrived on Saturday, the 14th of February: next morning (it was

the Sunday preceding Shrove Tuesday) he appeared before the Council. The

premier syndic, assuming a duty that was somewhat episcopal, said to

him: ‘Reverend father, you must preach nothing but the pure Gospel of

God.’—‘I undertake to do so,’ replied the monk, who had been well

tutored; ‘you will be satisfied.’ And then desiring to show how

accommodating he was, he presented nine articles, saying: ‘This is what

I desire to preach;’ adding, as if he was before the college of

cardinals: ‘Strike out what you do not approve of.’ The Council, in

great part Lutheran, finding themselves converted by the priest into a

court of doctrine, ordered the paper to be read. _Invocation of the

Virgin Mary_ was one of the articles; _Purgatory_ was another; _Prayer

for the dead_; _Invocation of the Saints_.... The huguenots objected,

and these four points were struck off the list; but he was allowed to

make the sign of the cross in the pulpit, to repeat the salutation of

the angel to Mary, which is recorded in the Gospel of St. Luke, and to

celebrate mass. The priest returned to his convent with the revised

articles.[482]

[Sidenote: Courtelier’s Sermon.]

On Ash Wednesday the reverend superior went into the pulpit and labored

skilfully to retain Geneva in the orbit of the papacy. The two chiefs of

the Reformation—the layman Baudichon de la Maisonneuve and the reformer

Farel—with many of their _accomplices_ (as Father Courtelier styles

them),[483] desirous of hearing how the monk would manage to make the

pope and Luther agree, had gone to the Franciscan church at Rive

(Courtelier had not been admitted to the honor of the cathedral). The

monk began by repeating in a sonorous voice the invocation to the

Virgin: _Ave Maria_ ..., at which Farel and the huguenots called out so

that all could hear them: ‘It is a foolish thing to salute the Virgin

Mary!’—‘I do it _by permission of the Council_,’ answered the monk

ingenuously, and all the catholics in the congregation, desiring to

support their champion, began to cry out: _Ave Maria, gratia plena_!

There was such a loud and universal murmur, that Farel, Maisonneuve, and

their friends were obliged to hold their tongues.[484]

Courtelier continued, endeavoring to speak at once according to the pope

and the Gospel. One sentence contradicted another; what was white one

moment was black the next; his sermon was a muddle of ideas without

issue, a strain of music without harmony. Farel and his friends soon

understood the manœuvre. ‘He is using a cloak to entrap us,’ they said,

‘and will take care not to show his teeth at starting. He gives us drink

... as they did at Babylon, poison in a golden chalice.’ Disgusted with

such trimming, Farel stood up and said: ‘You cannot teach the truth, for

you do not know it.’ The poor friar stopped short: resuming his courage

by degrees and wishing to please the friends of the Gospel, he began to

inveigh against both priests and popes. It was now the turn of the

catholics; and the Franciscan, noticing their anger and desiring to

regain their favor, began once more to vituperate the reformers. Without

doctrine, without opinions, he fluctuated between Rome and Wittemberg,

and instead of satisfying everybody, he exasperated both parties. ‘We

cannot serve God and the devil,’ said Froment with disgust.

The reverend superior now changed his tactics, knowing, as all good

Franciscans did, that flies are to be caught with honey, and began to

praise the Genevans in extravagant language: ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he

said from the pulpit, ‘beware how you suffer yourselves to be seduced by

the people (Farel and his two friends) who teach you that you and your

fathers were idolaters, and that you are being led away to hell. No! you

are a noble and mighty city ... you are of good repute ... and worthy

people.... Ladies and gentlemen, always preserve your glorious title,

and make yourselves worthy of the great name borne by your noble city.

Is it not called _Geneva, Gebenna_,[485] that is to say, _gens bona,

gens benigna, gens sancta, gens præclara, gens devota_? ... a good,

merciful, holy, illustrious, and devout people.... Your name declares

it.’ The monk was inexhaustible in extravagant compliments, although he

knew very well what he ought to think of the ‘holiness’ of the Genevese,

and particularly of the monks and priests.

This final effort of Roman-catholicism in Geneva did not succeed. On the

contrary, the huguenots, provoked by his fawning, said: ‘We do not

desire to please either gentlemen or ladies,’[486] and moved with firm

steps in the path of Reform. Farel, setting aside the manifold

ceremonies with which Rome had overburdened public worship, desired to

re-establish baptism in conformity with the Gospel institution, as a

sign of regeneration. The news spread, and excited great curiosity even

among the strangers who were in Geneva. On the 22d of February, the

first Sunday in Lent, two Savoyards, Claude Theveron of the mountains of

the Grand-Bornand, and Henry Advreillon of the parish of Thonon, were in

the Molard, where also a number of Genevans, both catholics and

Lutherans, had assembled. ‘Have you heard,’ said one of them, ‘that

there is going to be a baptism at Baudichon’s house?’—‘Let us go and see

what it is like,’ said the Savoyards; and, following some huguenots,

they entered a large hall, which had been contrived by removing the

partitions.[487] Some of the seats were already occupied; the two

strangers were able to find room, but the later arrivals were compelled

to stand near the door. ‘There must be three hundred and more present,’

said Advreillon to his friend. On a raised chair sat a young man with

mild countenance and sharp eyes: they were told it was Viret of Orbe;

right and left of him were Farel and Froment. A gentleman of the city of

good appearance, who seemed to be between forty and fifty years old,

showed the people to their seats and watched to see that everything was

conducted with propriety. ‘That is Baudichon de la Maisonneuve,’ the

Savoyards were informed, ‘the master of the house, and the greatest

Lutheran in Geneva.’[488]

[Sidenote: A Reformed Baptism.]

The service then began. Viret’s gentle eloquence charmed his hearers;

the two strangers, however, would gladly have seen themselves outside of

the assembly into which they had impudently crept; but all the passages

were blocked up: ‘We cannot get out,’ said Advreillon, ‘because of the

great crowd of people;’ so they made up their minds to stay till the

end. As soon as the sermon was over, the two Savoyards were about to

leave, when De la Maisonneuve said aloud: ‘Let no one move, a baptism is

going to be celebrated here.’ The baptism took place, and Viret added:

‘It was with pure, fair water that John baptized Jesus Christ; to

baptize with oil, salt, and spittle as the hypocrites do, is wrong.’ The

two strangers, offended by such language, got away as fast as they

could.

As many persons had been unable to take part in the service, the

huguenots, whose patience was exhausted, resolved to be no longer

satisfied with narrow halls, which did not permit all who loved the Word

of God to hear it. ‘Jesus Christ commands the Gospel to be preached in

all the world,’ said Farel, ‘it must therefore be preached in Geneva;’

whereupon he asked for a church. The Bernese ambassadors undertook to

present the petition. ‘Most honored lords,’ they said to the Council,

‘when we and our ministers pass along the streets, people shout after

us: “Holla! heretics, you dare not appear in public, you preach your

heresies in holes and corners like pigsties.”[489] We have long put up

with this, and now we come to ask you for a church. No one will be

constrained to hear our preacher; every man will go to the worship he

prefers, and thus everybody will be satisfied.’ The syndics, greatly

embarrassed, declared they were grieved at the _ignominies_ heaped upon

the Bernese, but said it was not in their jurisdiction to assign a

pulpit to a Lutheran preacher; that it belonged to the prince-bishop and

his vicars. ‘Still,’ they added, ‘if you take of your own accord some

edifice in which you can preach your doctrines ... you are strong ... we

cannot resist you ... we dare not.’

[Sidenote: Farel And Courtelier.]

The refusal of the syndics annoyed the evangelicals; Farel resolved to

have an interview with the father-superior. Did he wish to convince

Courtelier, at times so accommodating, that the evangelical doctrine

ought to be preached in the churches; or else, convinced, like Luther,

that the papacy was a power of Antichrist which resisted the kingdom of

God, did he desire to tell the cordelier his mind? We cannot say:

perhaps it was partly both. Accompanied by the intrepid Maisonneuve and

the wise councillor Balthasar, Farel proceeded to the Franciscan

convent. Courtelier received them in his cell, and the reformer having

complained that the Gospel truth could not be preached, the monk,

instead of making the least concession, took refuge behind the authority

of the pope, extolling his holiness’s infallibility and power. Had not

Alvarus Pelagius, a Franciscan like himself, declared that the

jurisdiction of the pope is universal, embracing the whole world, its

temporalities as well as its spiritualities?[490] Had not another monk

taught that ‘the pope is in the place of God?’[491] But Farel, instead

of seeking his ideas about Rome in the writings of the monks of the

middle ages, derived them from the Holy Scriptures, and particularly

from the Revelation of St. John. ‘Your holy Father,’ he said to the

superior, ‘is the beast whom the ignorant worship. John the Evangelist

tells us of a beast with seven heads,[492] which “devoureth them which

dwell upon the earth,” and makes war upon the saints, and he adds: _the

seven heads are seven hills_, on which it sits. _Seven hills_, do you

hear? Everybody knows that Rome is built on _seven hills_. Therefore the

holy see is not apostolical but diabolical.’ Courtelier was moved. He

remonstrated with Farel ‘as well as he could,’ he says; but the reformer

replied, the conversation grew warm, and at last the evangelists, unable

to convince the monk, took leave of him. Maisonneuve quitted the cell,

annoyed at Courtelier’s blindness, and all three left the convent

together.

This energetic argument, which applied the prophecies of the Bible

respecting Antichrist to the pope, had already been employed by Luther.

No proof excited more anger among the Romanists or inspired the

evangelicals with more firmness.

Footnote 476:

1 Timothy iv. 3.

Footnote 477:

_Lettres certaines_, &c. Registre du Conseil des 11, 12, 13, 15

Février, 1534. Froment, _Gestes_, p. 87.

Footnote 478:

‘Vagans et vacillans, sententiæ satisfacere neglexit.’—Registre du

Conseil du 15 Février, 1534.

Footnote 479:

‘Nugis solitus plebis aures suspendere satageret.’—_Geneva restituta_,

pp. 6-9.

Footnote 480:

‘Impostor suggestu deturbatus.’—_Geneva restituta_, pp. 6-9.

Footnote 481:

Registre du Conseil des 15, 16, 20 Février. Froment, _Gestes de

Genève_, p. 88. La Sœur Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 78.

Footnote 482:

Registre du Conseil des 15 et 16 Février, 1534.

Footnote 483:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 331.

Footnote 484:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 331-332.

Footnote 485:

The word _Gebenna_ occurs frequently in ancient documents.

Footnote 486:

‘Nous ne voulons plaire, nous, ni à Monsieur ni à Madame.’—Froment,

_Gestes de Genève_, pp. 83-84.

Footnote 487:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 231, 232, 236.

Footnote 488:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 233, 234.

Footnote 489:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 235, 236.

Footnote 490:

‘Jurisdictionem habet universalem in toto mundo papa, nedum in

spiritualibus sed temporalibus.’—_De planctu ecclesiæ_, lib. i. cap.

xiii.

Footnote 491:

‘Papa vice Dei, est omnium regnorum provisor.’—Aug. Triumphus, _Summa

de potestate ecclesiasticâ_, Qu. xlvi. art. 3.

Footnote 492:

Revelation xiii.-xx.

CHAPTER VII.

FAREL PREACHES IN THE GRAND AUDITORY OF THE CONVENT AT RIVE.

(MARCH 1 TO APRIL 25, 1534.)

The interview with the father-superior had been useless; the churches

remained closed. The evangelicals could wait no longer: the majority of

the inhabitants were for the Word of God, but not a church was opened to

them. The walls of St. Pierre, St. Gervais, St. Germain, and the

Madelaine contained merely the external and barren forms of the Roman

worship: life and movement were there no longer; they had passed into

the hearts of the resolute men and pious women who gathered round Farel.

Neither the hall in Maisonneuve’s house, nor any other sufficed for the

_lovers of the Word_. Every day numbers of hearers had to remain in the

street. ‘Alas!’ said they, ‘the Gospel can find nothing in Geneva but

_secret chambers_, and we can only whisper of the grace of Christ. And

yet grace ought to be proclaimed all through the city and spread even to

the ends of the world.’ They were about to take measures accordingly.

[Sidenote: Farel In The Grand Auditory.]

On the second Sunday in Lent (1st of March, 1534), after the

evangelicals had heard Farel in one of the usual halls, twenty-nine of

the most notable huguenots remained behind and began to inquire what

ought to be done. ‘The Council,’ reported one of them, ‘told my lords of

Berne to take any place they liked for their preacher ... well, suppose

we take one. It is God’s will to have the Gospel published. But the pope

with his people care no more about it than the priests of Bacchus,

Jupiter, and Venus did of old. Without any further petitioning let us do

what God commands.’ At these words Maisonneuve and the other huguenots

proceeded to the convent at Rive. Father Courtelier was preaching there:

he had just finished his sermon and the crowd were leaving the church.

The daring Baudichon informed the monks, to their great surprise, that

Farel was going to preach there, and also that the bells would be rung,

which did not astonish them less. Two or three huguenots, going into the

belfry, rang three loud peals at intervals during an hour. Meanwhile De

la Maisonneuve took his measures. Instead of taking possession of the

church, he selected a part of the convent named the _grand auditory_, or

the _cloister_. This part of the monastery was constructed in the shape

of a gallery, and had a court in the middle: it was more spacious than

the church, and would hold four or five thousand persons.[493]

The sound of the bells at an unusual hour was heard all through the

city. Each note, as it rang in the ears of the Genevese, announced to

them that the Gospel, with which all Christendom was then agitated, was

at last about to be publicly proclaimed within their walls. ‘Master

Farel,’ they said, ‘is going to preach in the cloister at Rive,’ and a

crowd collected from all sides. People of every sort had assembled to

hear him: evangelicals, political huguenots, the indifferent and

bigoted. Certain priests gnashed their teeth and even attempted to turn

away some of their parishioners; but it was labor in vain: the number

increased every minute. Some Franciscan monks, who stared at the sight

of such an extraordinary multitude, could not resist the desire of going

to the grand auditory and hearing what was said.

De la Maisonneuve gave the necessary orders for placing the people. The

assembly, although respectful, was profoundly agitated. In the place

where they had met, men of different parties crowded together: the

opportunity of hearing the famous Farel, and the object which such

meetings were to attain, namely, a change in the religion of Geneva—all

stirred their minds deeply. But if there was any unbecoming movement,

Maisonneuve, from his elevated place, imposed silence by his hand. At

length the reformer appeared. The catholics were astonished when they

saw him: ‘What!’ they said, ‘no sacerdotal ornaments! He is dressed like

a layman, with a Spanish cloak and brimmed cap.’[494] But under that cap

and cloak lay hid what was rarely found beneath the robes of priests—an

ardent soul, a heart overflowing with love, and such eloquence that the

hearers exclaimed, as Calvin did once: ‘Your thunders have caused an

indescribable trouble in my soul.’[495] Farel began to speak: borrowing

his fire from the writings of the prophets and apostles, says one of his

biographers, he enlightened and inflamed the heart.[496] He excited in

many a lively feeling of love for Christ. God, as Calvin says, was at

work in his own through the ministry of the reformer. Some began to

consider and to relish the grace which they had formerly swallowed

without tasting.[497] The assembly was charmed and enraptured; the souls

of many were inflamed by the ardor of the divine spirit.

Among the Franciscans who listened to Farel was Jacques Bernard,

belonging to one of the best families in Geneva. He was lively,

intelligent, learned, and defiant, and had long been a sincere

worshipper of the Virgin. He had often spoken violently against the

reformers, and a few days before, meeting Farel and Viret, he told them

with a scowl: ‘In times past there were schismatics enough who forbade

men to salute the Virgin and make the sign of the cross.’ Then, without

another word, he rudely turned his back on them. But on this occasion no

one in the grand auditory was more attentive than Jacques. God gave him

_new eyes_ and _new ears_. It has been said that the convent at Rive was

to him as the road to Damascus—that there this new Saul became a new

Paul.[498] This first preaching of Farel’s contributed at least to

Bernard’s conversion, and ere long he maintained courageously the truths

he had once so much attacked.

But this light, which had enlightened some, blinded others. The wrath of

the men devoted to the papacy knew no bounds; they indulged in terrible

bursts of passion, and their followers spread the flames through the

city. The conflagration broke out the next day. The Two Hundred were

hardly met, when Nicholas du Crest, the three Malbuissons, Girardin, and

Philip de la Rive, with several others, appeared before them and said: A

minister preached the new law yesterday in the cloister at Rive; we wish

to know if it was with your consent. At the same moment the ambassadors

of Berne arrived and held very different language: ‘What we have so long

asked for,’ they said, ‘has been accomplished _by the inspiration of

God_, without our knowing anything of it. The place which you had

refused us has been given by the Lord himself. Yes, God, by the

inspiration of the Holy Ghost, has put it into the hearts of your

citizens to have the Gospel preached in the grand auditory. Permit the

minister to continue his preaching in that place, and give no annoyance

to such as may go to hear him.’

[Sidenote: Farel Continues To Preach.]

Although, to satisfy the catholics, the Council had at first hinted to

the Bernese that as they were returning home, it would be very natural

that they should take their ministers with them, Farel continued to

preach every day to numerous congregations. His hearers were more

convinced than ever of the errors of Rome and of the truth of the

evangelical doctrine—things which appeared to them as clear as the day.

Many threw aside their supineness; their contrite hearts joyfully

received the Saviour’s pardon, and, ‘caring no longer for the frivolous

things so esteemed by the papists,’ devoted themselves to works of true

innocence and charity. There was great cheerfulness in Geneva. Bands of

people paraded the city with songs of joy; groups assembled at the

Molard and conversed of the extraordinary things that were taking place.

The evangelicals no longer doubted of the victory. A young Savoyard,

named Henry Percyn, approaching one of these groups, recognized

Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, who, surrounded by several Lutherans, ‘was

talking to some catholics who were there.’ The latter defended their

Church: ‘Are these three chimney-preachers better than pope, bishop,

canons, priests, and monks?’ Maisonneuve replied: ‘I will bet one

hundred crowns to fifty, that next Easter not a single mass will be

celebrated in Geneva.’ None of the catholics would accept the wager.

Baudichon was mistaken, but by a few months only.[499]

On Saturday, the 7th of March, the Bernese ambassadors attended the

evangelical assembly for the last time. They were leaving Farel, Viret,

and Froment without protection in the midst of deadly enemies, and

without force to resist them alone. Accordingly, as soon as the service

was ended, they rose and said: ‘Farewell, gentlemen of Geneva, we

commend our preachers to you.’[500]—‘It is not necessary to commend

them,’ answered a Genevese, ‘we know the danger they incur in trying to

rescue the people from the slavery into which they have fallen.’ As he

left the hall, Claude Bernard took the three evangelists home to his

house, where they lived henceforward.

De la Maisonneuve departed about the same time as the Bernese, on his

way to Frankfort on business. At a date we cannot fix he took Farel and

Viret to Lausanne to ‘similarly seduce’ the inhabitants of that city;

but the Lausannese, the priests and their friends (for the middle-class

was favorable to the Reform), ‘drove the preachers away.’ It is scarcely

probable that the two reformers should have chosen to leave Geneva at

the important epoch of which we are treating; and yet a contemporary

document would lead us to believe so. When De la Maisonneuve reached

Frankfort, he conversed with the Lutherans and communicated, as it would

seem, according to the ritual of Luther.[501]

Shortly after this, Portier was convicted of having conspired with the

bishop against the liberty of the city, and condemned to lose his head.

The law having punished the guilty, the public conscience was satisfied.

It is necessary that justice should reign among nations; when it is

trampled under foot and the guilty are held to be innocent, there rises

in the breasts of the good a cry of sorrow, we will not say of revenge.

But that condemnation was big with important consequences for Geneva; it

was, says the chronicler, ‘a terror to the creatures of the bishop.’ As

Portier had only carried out the orders of the prince, the condemnation

of the servant was that of the master. The episcopal agents began to

understand that they must obey the laws and pay respect to lay

tribunals. The power of the episcopal faction was broken.[502]

[Sidenote: Farel’s Progress.]

Farel became more energetic, while, on the other hand, the Franciscan

preacher did all he could to support the tottering papacy. It was not

only in the same country that these two contrary systems were then in

conflict: it was in the same city, in the same house,—the monastery at

Rive. One day the cordelier taught in the church that ‘the wafer ceases

to be bread, and that the _mouth_ receives the body of Jesus Christ;’

while Farel said in the cloister: ‘It is true that the life is

_enclosed_ in the body of Christ; but we have no communion with him

except by a true faith. Faith is the mouth of the soul to receive the

Saviour.’ In the church the cordelier encouraged the purchase of

indulgences, the practice of penances and satisfactions; but in the

grand auditory Farel exclaimed: ‘All our sins are pardoned _freely_. How

dare the monks, then, set up their satisfactions, which the Word of God

has shattered to pieces?’[503] Gradually the cordelier lowered his tone:

the powerful voice of Farel was reducing him to silence. ‘You must

know,’ wrote Madame de la Maisonneuve to her husband, who was at

Frankfort, ‘you must know that Master William does his duty bravely in

announcing the Word of God.’ She added: ‘We have had no prohibitions:

nobody contradicts us. Our business increases greatly.’[504]

Roman-catholicism was falling: Friburg hurried to its support. ‘Alas!’

replied the syndics to the ambassadors, ‘we do not set Farel to preach:

it is the people. We could sooner stop a torrent than prevent people

going to hear them. So far as we are concerned, we have abolished no

ceremony, pulled down no church.’ Thus, at Geneva, as in mighty England,

it was the nation rather than its leaders who desired the Reform; and it

was the same everywhere. The Friburgers, calm and reserved, then stepped

forward in the midst of the assembly of the people, coldly laid their

letters of alliance before the premier syndic, and asked for those of

Geneva. ‘Keep them! keep them!’ was the cry on all sides; and the

citizens rushed towards the deputation, lavishing on them marks of

affection and prayers. Messieurs of Friburg, sternly shaking off their

embraces, departed, leaving the letters of alliance on the table.

The alarmed Council now resolved to do all in their power to appease the

catholics and Friburgers. Every year at Easter a grand procession took

place, in which the images and relics of the saints were carried through

the city. The Council ordered the usual honors to be paid them. Aimé

Levet having declared that he would not forsake the living God for that

multitude of _petty gods_, the syndics served him with a special order

through the police. But still the Levets would hang no drapery upon

their house, and kept the shop open as on an ordinary day. For this

offence Aimé was kept three days in prison on bread and water.

[Sidenote: Farel’s Domestic Troubles.]

The consideration due to Friburg had led the magistrates to this act of

severity; but the evangelical movement was not checked by it. The

Christian meetings increased in number after Easter. Farel energetically

urged forward the car of Reform, and his voice by turns alarmed like the

thunders of Sinai, or consoled like the Beatitudes of the Gospel. Yet,

in the midst of these numerous works, he was often observed to pause,

overcome with sadness. The persecution continued in France: three

hundred Lutherans were in prison at Paris. ‘What restive horses are

these!’ he exclaimed. ‘They shrink back instead of advancing! What

adversaries are springing up against the Redeemer, who reigns with glory

in heaven! But God will not forsake his work.’[505] He had still keener

sorrows than these: his own brothers, Daniel, Walter, and Claude, had

been seized by the enemy from a desire to avenge upon them the _evil_

which the reformer was doing. One of the three, who was younger than

himself, had been condemned to imprisonment for life, and his mother,

already a widow, was shedding tears of bitterness. ‘Alas!’ said William

Farel, ‘her son, who was born after me, has long been in prison, and has

greater sorrows to endure than I have.’ The reformer applied to friends

in high station to obtain his brother’s release from the king; but the

strictness of the prison had only been increased. ‘I know not,’ he said,

on the 28th of April, 1534, ‘who has so stirred the fire.... May it

please God that the poor prisoner hold firm and declare fearlessly what

ought to be said of the good Saviour.’[506] Farel possessed that filial

affection which is serious and respectful towards the father, tender and

gentle towards the mother. It made him exclaim in his anguish: ‘Alas!

the poor widow! O my anguish-stricken mother!’ The love he felt for

Christ had increased his natural affections.

De la Maisonneuve, having returned to Geneva after Easter, was about to

start again for Lyons. Farel, knowing that his friend, De la Forge, the

merchant of Paris, would be going also to that city at this season of

the year, gave Baudichon a letter for his Paris brethren, at that time

so afflicted, directing his letter _to the holy vessel elect of God_.

‘Jesus,’ he wrote to this little flock in the capital, ‘is the rock of

offence against which the world has fought since the beginning of time,

and will always fight; but its efforts are vain. No council can

withstand God, and if the wicked lift their horns, they shall be

broken.’ He then solicited the intercession of the members of the church

in behalf of his brother. ‘I pray you,’ he said, ‘speak of my brother in

that quarter where you know better than myself that it is expedient to

do so. What! a protracted detention, the confiscation of his property,

six hundred crowns which the bishop has extracted from him—is not that

enough? Oh! that the poor fellow could be set at liberty! All here who

fear the Lord entreat you to exert yourselves for him.’[507] The

evangelicals of Geneva were interested in the fate of their reformer’s

brothers. At the same time Farel wrote also to De la Forge, commending

his brother to him, and knowing the perils with which the Parisian

merchant was threatened, he added: ‘If we have Jesus, that heavenly

treasure cannot be taken from us: let us march onwards, though all the

world should rise against Him.’

In treating of our reformers, we naturally bestow attention on their

labors, struggles, writings, and trials; it is well, however, to enter

sometimes into the inner sanctuary of their hearts and of their domestic

lives. We are touched and rejoice to find there such abundance of the

most legitimate and tenderest of human affections. They were men as well

as Christians. This fact is a proof of the sincerity of their piety; it

is like a spring of pure water gushing up on a field of battle,

refreshing and reviving those whom so many struggles might have wearied.

Footnote 493:

Froment, an eye-witness, says (_Gestes de Genève_, p. 82) that Farel

preached ‘in the grand auditory of the convent of Rive, without

entering the church.’ Father Courtelier, in his evidence at Lyons

(_Procès inquisitionnel_, p. 322), says that Farel preached ‘in the

same church and pulpit as himself.’ But Froment’s evidence is

corroborated by the Register of the Council of Geneva, which says,

that the meeting was held in the cloister or auditory. Courtelier, no

doubt only meant to say that Farel preached in the same edifice as

himself, without strictly designating the place.

Footnote 494:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 323.

Footnote 495:

Sane me, tam vehementer conturbarunt tua illa fulgura.’—Calvini _Epp._

Footnote 496:

Ancillon, _Vie de Farel_.

Footnote 497:

‘Savourer la grâce ... avalée sans la goûter.’

Footnote 498:

M. Archinard: _Edifices religieux de l’ancienne Genève_, p. 108.

Footnote 499:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 226-227.

Footnote 500:

Registre du Conseil du 6 Mars, 1534. Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p.

91. MS. de Gautier.

Footnote 501:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 199, 200, 204.

Footnote 502:

Registre du Conseil du 10 Mars, 1534.

Footnote 503:

MS. de Gautier. Registre du Conseil du 18 Mars, 1534.

Footnote 504:

She dated her letter, _De Genève, trois semaines avant Pâques_, and

signed it: _La toute votre femme chérie, Baudichone_.—MS. du Procès

inquisitionnel, pp. 23-24.

Footnote 505:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 11-12.

Footnote 506:

‘Puisse à Dieu seulement que le pauvre prisonnier pousse outre et

déclare sans crainte ce qui doit être dit du bon Sauveur.’—Lettre aux

fidèles de Paris. (MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon.)

Footnote 507:

Geneva, April 25, 1534. MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon.

CHAPTER VIII.

A BOLD PROTESTANT AT LYONS.

(1530 TO 1534.)

Farel, who was so distressed by the long captivity of one of the members

of his family, little suspected that a friend, loved by him as a

brother, would ere long be in a dungeon. De la Maisonneuve, who traded

in all sorts of merchandise, but particularly in silk fabrics,

jewellery, and furs, had been in the habit of attending the fairs of

Lyons for twenty years, and went there as often as three or four times a

year. Of late, the frankness with which he maintained the evangelical

doctrines had offended many persons, and thus paved the way for a

catastrophe which now seemed inevitable. Courted by the merchants,

esteemed by the magistrates, he was, on the other hand, in the bad books

of the priests, and the priests were powerful.

[Sidenote: The Reliquary.]

One day, in the year 1530, when he was at Nuremberg on business, a rich

merchant of that city, a sound protestant, who had no love for relics,

had given him a valuable reliquary in payment of a debt.[508] As Lyons

was noted for its devotion, Baudichon, who cared little for the object

and looked at it only as an article of merchandise, thought it might

fetch a good price in that city, and happening to go there not long

after, offered the little box to a money-changer. He would have done

better to have refused it at Nuremberg, but Christian wisdom was then

only dawning upon him. The money-changer took up the article and

examined it devoutly. On the top was an image of St. James in silver,

‘carefully wrought,’ and weighing about four marks. Underneath was the

reliquary: a box of silver with a glass allowing the inside to be seen,

and some little parchment labels indicating the names of the saints

whose relics were contained within. The Lyons money-changer looked with

adoration on the precious remains of St. Christopher, St. Syriac, and

another. He took off his cap, made a bow to the relics, and kissed them

devoutly; and as his wife and children had clustered round him with

pious curiosity, he made each of them kiss the sacred remains. Turning

to Maisonneuve, he said: ‘Sir Baudichon, I am surprised that you should

bring me this relic in such a manner.’ Maisonneuve replied: ‘It is very

likely they are the bones of some ordinary body which the priests give

the people to kiss to deceive them.’ At these words, an apprentice, of

the age of eighteen, a very bigoted youth, left the shop indignant, and

sat down on a bench in the street. The changer having paid Baudichon

seventy livres tournois for his merchandise, the huguenot departed. But

as he was passing in front of the bench, the apprentice, unable to

restrain his anger, insulted him. Maisonneuve was content to reply that

if he was in Geneva, ‘he would give him relics for nothing.’ This affair

began to make Baudichon suspected.[509]

Next year (1531), when Maisonneuve was again at Lyons, and dining at the

table-d’hôte of the Coupe d’Or, he met with some merchants from the

neighboring provinces, and particularly from Auvergne, whose

inhabitants, upright and charitable, but ignorant and vindictive, were

distinguished at that time by a credulous devotion, as excessive as it

was superstitious. The Genevan did not scruple to declare his religious

convictions boldly before them, and the bigoted Auvergnats were much

surprised to hear him speak ‘_after his manner about the Gospel and

faith during all the meal_.’ ‘Hold your tongue,’ they said, angrily, ‘if

you were in our country, _you would be burnt_.’[510]

[Sidenote: Who Is Petrus?]

A year later (in 1532), also at fair time, De la Maisonneuve, Bournet, a

broker to whom he had confided an article of jewellery for sale, Humbert

des Oches, and other tradesmen were supping at the table-d’hôte of the

Coupe d’Or. It was one of those days on which the Church forbids the

eating of meat. Bournet had brought some fish, of which they all

partook, and Baudichon among them. This surprised one of the guests, who

asked him whether they eat meat at Geneva on fast days. ‘Certainly they

do,’ he answered, ‘and if I were in a place where it could be got, I

should make no difficulty about it, for God does not forbid it.’—‘The

pope and the Church forbid it,’ returned Bournet, sharply. Baudichon

declared that he did not acknowledge the pope’s power to forbid what God

permits. ‘God said to St. Peter,’ rejoined Bournet, ‘“_Whatsoever thou

shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven_” (Matthew xvi. 19). The

pope is now in the place of St. Peter; therefore’....—‘The pope and the

priests,’ retorted Maisonneuve, ‘are so far from being like St. Peter,

that there are many among them who lead evil lives, and require to be

set in order and reformed. The Word of God alone brings grace to the

sinner.’ He then began to repeat ‘some passages from the Gospels _in the

French language_,’ selecting those which announce Jesus Christ and the

complete pardon he gives. Every Christian who proclaims the Gospel

might, he declared, be God’s instrument to liberate souls from sin and

condemnation; and then, growing bolder, he exclaimed: ‘I am _Petrus_;

you (turning to Bournet) are _Petrus_. Every man is Peter, provided he

is firm in the faith of Jesus Christ.’ All present were much struck with

his observations, and the strange man became still blacker in their

eyes.[511]

At the feast of the Epiphany in the year 1533, the brother of Lyonnel

Raynaud, priest of the order of St. John of Jerusalem, and Messire Jean

Barbier, of the cathedral of Vienne, arrived at the Coupe d’Or, with a

clerk in attendance upon the latter. They sat down to table with the

company. Everybody was speaking at once. One of the guests, however,—and

he was usually among those who talked the most,—seemed absorbed in

thought. De la Maisonneuve (for it was he) fixed his eyes on the priests

of Vienne, and, after a few moments, said to them, ‘Can you explain to

me why they put a certain cordelier to death at Vienne a few years ago?’

He alluded to Stephen Renier, of whom we have spoken elsewhere.[512] ‘He

was a heretic,’ said Barbier, ‘and had taught endless errors at Annonay

and elsewhere.’ De la Maisonneuve boldly undertook his defence. ‘You did

wrong to put him to death,’ he said; ‘he was a truly good man, of sound

learning, and one likely to produce great fruits.’ The strife began

immediately. Baudichon affirmed that we were not required to keep the

commandments of the Church, but only those of God; while the priest

tried with all his might to prove that Baudichon was wrong. The Genevan

grew more animated, and spoke with great boldness. This new kind of

tournament absorbed all attention: the guests left off eating and

drinking, fixed their eyes on the two champions, and opened their ears

wide. A merchant of Vienne, one Master Simon de Montverban, an

acquaintance of Baudichon’s, and whom the latter had often soundly

beaten, observed to him: ‘You have found a man at last to answer you.’

But the Genevan replied so forcibly to the arguments of the Viennese,

and the contest became so animated, that the three priests, suddenly

rising from table, quitted the room hastily, and went into a separate

chamber. ‘If this man were at Vienne,’ said Barbier, ‘I would have him

sent to prison.’ The prison and the stake which followed it were safer

arms than discussion.[513]

[Sidenote: Hostility To Baudichon.]

De la Maisonneuve, having returned to Lyons for the fairs of Easter and

of August, met a considerable number of merchants at the Coupe d’Or, and

immediately undertook to enlighten them, feeling that language was given

for such purposes; but, as he feared also that his scattered remarks, if

not followed up, would be insufficient to correct the tardiness of

certain men, he determined to make use of various stimulants.

Accordingly, he spared neither toil nor weariness. Simon de Montverban,

who was there again, was struck with his zeal, and complained of it.

‘Whenever the merchants take their meals,’ he said, ‘whenever he meets

them in the common hall, when they come in or go out, everywhere and

always, Baudichon gets talking and disputing about the Gospel.’ No

longer confining himself to questions of fasting or images, he went

straight to what was essential: he put forward Scripture as the fountain

of truth, and declared that every sinner, even the greatest, was saved

through uniting himself by faith to Jesus Christ. People censured him in

vain. In vain did two merchants, one named Arcon and the other Hugues,

repeat to every body and to Baudichon himself that, if he was in their

country, he would be burnt; the latter, who did not doubt them,

continued his arguments. Lyons was a free city during the fair, and he

took advantage of it to make the pure Gospel known. Simon de Montverban

complained to the Genevan huguenot’s brother-in-law, an ardent papist,

who made answer: ‘I wish that Baudichon had died ten years ago; he is

the cause of all the troubles at Geneva.’[514]

De la Maisonneuve was again at Lyons at the feasts of All Saints

(November, 1533) and Epiphany (1534). One evening, when a numerous

company was supping at the inn, the conversation turned on the religious

circumstances of the times. After listening a while, he exclaimed: ‘It

is nonsense to pray to the saints, to hear mass, and confess to the

priests!’ and proceeded to quote _the Gospels and the Apostles_ to prove

what he said. ‘In our country,’ again asserted some who heard him, ‘at

Avignon, at Clermont you would be sent to the stake!’ It was the burden

of the old song, and they were only surprised that he was not burnt at

Lyons. De la Maisonneuve, knowing well that it was out of their Roman

piety that they wished to burn him, was content to smile. But his

calmness excited the wrath of his fellow-guests. The merchants of

Auvergne rose from the table in a fit of anger, and, addressing the

hostess, desired she would not receive Maisonneuve in future. ‘If we

find him here when we come again,’ they said, ‘we shall go and lodge

elsewhere.’ The landlady promised the Auvergnats not to receive him in

future.[515]

The Easter fair of 1534 was drawing near, and as it was the most

considerable in the year, Maisonneuve did not want to miss it. But

circumstances had become more threatening and rendered the journey

dangerous. There were, as we have seen, in the castle of Peney on the

Lyons road, and other strong places, traitors who had fled from Geneva,

and carried off all the Genevans they could lay hands on. Baudichon’s

friends wished him to put off this journey. ‘The fair is free

(_franche_) to every one,’ he answered. ‘Ay!’ said Froment, ‘under the

papacy there are many franchises for thieves, robbers, and murderers;

but for the evangelicals all the liberties, franchises, and promises of

princes are broken.’[516] Maisonneuve knew this well, yet he was not a

man to be frightened. The report of his intentions having gone abroad,

certain _traitors_ (as Froment terms the fanatical partisans of the

bishop and pope) hastened to give their Lyons friends notice of

Baudichon’s approaching arrival, conjuring them to get him put to death.

‘He was spied and _recommended_ to their care.’[517]

De la Maisonneuve, bearing Farel’s letters, started from Geneva in the

morning of the 25th of April, and arrived at Lyons on the 26th, having

no suspicion that his enemies were waiting for him and preparing his

scaffold. He had with him Janin the armorer, his aide-de-camp in

religious matters, who had supplied himself with evangelical books

printed at Neufchatel to circulate them in Lyons. Baudichon, as usual,

had alighted at the Coupe d’Or near St. Pierre-les-Nonnains, and was

cordially received by the landlady notwithstanding the promise she had

made the Auvergnats some months before. Janin stopped there also, and

stored his evangelical books away in the room that had been assigned

him.

The next day there was a great disturbance at the inn. The merchants had

arrived from Auvergne, and one of the first persons they saw was the

famous heretic!... The color rushed to their cheeks, and they had words

with the hostess because she did not keep her promise. That they did not

content themselves with mere words, is clear from events which followed.

The bigots of France wished to share with the bigots of Geneva the honor

of putting to death the captain of the Lutherans.[518]

Maisonneuve immediately began to look after Étienne de la Forge, in

order to hand him the reformer’s letters; but on going to his house in

the Place de l’Herberie, he learnt, to his great disappointment, that

the Parisian merchant had not yet arrived.

[Sidenote: Baudichon And Janin Arrested.]

The enemies of the Reformation lost no time. Informations were sworn

against Maisonneuve on the 27th of April, the day after his arrival, and

the following morning, the 28th, the officers of justice arrested him

and his friend Janin ‘by authority of the seneschal’s court of Lyons,’

and shut him up in the king’s prison. But this was not what the priests

wanted. ‘These two men,’ they said, ‘being charged with offences against

our holy faith, the interest of the king our lord, and the common weal,

we demand that they be sent to the prison of the archiepiscopal see, and

that they be tried before the ecclesiastical judges.’[519] The two

prisoners were accordingly transferred to the archbishop’s prison. The

great huguenot saw that he had fallen into a trap, and prepared to meet

his enemies.

There was great agitation in the episcopal palace. That church of Lyons

which had been the church of the primate of all the Gauls—of which

thirty bishops had been canonized—which had supplied so many cardinals,

legates, statesmen, and ambassadors—whose chapter, consisting of seventy

canons, had included the sons of emperors, kings, and dukes among their

number, and of which the kings of France were honorary canons—that

church was about to have the glory of trying and putting to death the

layman who was Farel’s right arm, as Jerome of Prague had been that of

John Huss. All its dignitaries—the deans, chamberlains, wardens,

provosts, knights, theologians, and school-men—all were talking of this

fortunate circumstance. The clergy of the metropolitan church of St.

John the Baptist, in particular, took an active part in the business,

and the walls of that vast Gothic building echoed to the oft-repeated

name of the captain of the Lutherans. On the 29th of April the members

of the _inquisitional court_ assembled in the hall of justice of the

episcopal prison, and, wearing their robes of office, took their seats

on the judicial benches. They were Stephen Faye, official of the

primacy, and Benedict Buatier, ordinary official of Lyons,—both of them

vicars-general of the primate of France. The third judge was John

Gauteret, inquisitor of ‘heretical pravity.’ Ami Ponchon, notary public,

was to act as secretary;[520] and Claude Bellièvre, king’s advocate, was

to aid them by his presence. The court being thus formed, they summoned

before them Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, who declared his name, age

(forty-six years), and condition, and the trial began.[521]

Footnote 508:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 147.

Footnote 509:

All those particulars, as well as those which follow, are taken

literally from the depositions of the witnesses, made on oath, before

the court of Lyons, and are to be found in pages 132-147 of the

official manuscript.

Footnote 510:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, déposition de Pécoud, pp.

159-163.

Footnote 511:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 209, 211, 217, 218.

Footnote 512:

Vol. i. p. 576.

Footnote 513:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon. There are three depositions with

regard to these facts: those of Barbier the priest, pp. 267-270; of

the furrier Simon de Montverban, pp. 274-278; and of friar Lyonnel,

pp. 305-312.

Footnote 514:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 282-285.

Footnote 515:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, pp. 298-300, 413-414.

Footnote 516:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 241.

Footnote 517:

‘Iceluy fut épié et recommandé.’—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 241.

Footnote 518:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel de Lyon, p. 424.

Footnote 519:

Ibid. p. 1.

Footnote 520:

All the procès-verbaux or minutes have his signature, with a curious

flourish (_parafe_) exactly alike on each.

Footnote 521:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 5-6.

CHAPTER IX.

BAUDICHON DE LA MAISSONNEUVE BEFORE THE INQUISITIONAL COURT OF LYONS.

(FROM 29TH OF APRIL TO 21ST OF MAY, 1534.)

[Sidenote: The Examination.]

The tribunal of priests wished to mark distinctly at the very outset

that the Romish doctrine was in question: it was necessary to proclaim

anew that _in instanti_, at the very moment, at the priest’s word, there

was no longer in the host either bread or wine, but only the body and

blood of the Saviour. ‘What do you think of the sacrament of the altar?’

was the first question put by the court to Maisonneuve. He rejected the

Roman error; but his protestantism, as we have seen, came from Germany,

and the Lutherans taught that ‘in the sacrament of the altar, in the

bread and wine, were the true body, the true blood of Christ;’[522] and

as, according to the Lutheran doctrine, the presence was spiritual,

supernatural, and heavenly,[523] Maisonneuve, who professed this faith

and had taken the sacrament at Frankfort in the Lutheran church,

answered: ‘I believe that the real body of Christ is in the blessed

host,’[524] but knowing the axiom of jurisprudence, that no accused

person is bound to criminate himself, he would not declare his faith

more precisely.

If this doctrine interested the court, the connection of the accused

with the chiefs of what they called _heresy_ had also a great importance

in their eyes, and a doctor well known in France had given them great

umbrage. ‘Do you know _Pharellus_?’ they asked Maisonneuve, who calmly

replied: ‘He is from Dauphiny; he was brought to Geneva by my lords of

Berne; and when I hear him, I believe as much of his sermons as seems

right, and no more.’ These two answers might have led some to hope that

they would exercise clemency towards the accused; but such was not the

intention of the canons of St. John. The court declared that the

witnesses would be examined on the following day. They were all to be

for the prosecution; they might invent, add, or exaggerate, and the

prisoner would not have it in his power to produce any witnesses for the

defence.

The first who gave evidence was a young working-man, twenty-two years of

age, by name Philip Martin, and by trade a weaver. ‘I lived three years

in the city of Geneva,’ he said, ‘and during that time the Lutheran sect

multiplied exceedingly. I witnessed many armed assemblies and riots,

papists against evangelists, by day as well as by night. Among the most

prominent of the Lutheran party was Baudichon, and after him Jean

Philippe, Jean Golaz, Ami Perrin, who commonly were present at the armed

meetings, directing everything and providing for the expenses. About a

year ago a canon named Wernli was run through the body; Baudichon was

there, armed and wearing a cuirass.’[525] De la Maisonneuve calmly

interrupted him: ‘The witness does not speak the truth. When the canon

was wounded, I was in this very city of Lyons. I therefore charge him

with perjury, and desire that he be taken into custody.’ Martin had

borne false witness; this all who knew Maisonneuve at Geneva and Lyons

could declare. It was a bad beginning.

On the first of May a fanatical youth, named Pierre, brother of the two

Pennets, who had been condemned for assassinating a citizen and

conspiring against the liberties of the city, gave his evidence.

‘Baudichon entirely supports this Lutheran sect,’ he said; ‘he is their

captain. One day last year he assembled all the Lutherans and armed them

to plunder the churches, which ended in the death of four persons sons

and the wounding of many others.’[526] This also was false: Vandel, a

huguenot, had been wounded in a riot got up by the priests; but there

had been no deaths. ‘The witness hates me,’ said Maisonneuve, ‘because

one of his brothers was executed by judicial authority.’—‘Baudichon,’

continued Pennet, in greater excitement, ‘instead of fearing the

syndics, constrains them to humble themselves before him.’—‘I submit to

lose my head,’ exclaimed Maisonneuve, ‘in case the syndics declare that

I have ever done them any displeasure.’[527] The court rose.

[Sidenote: Emotion At Geneva.]

All this time Geneva was greatly agitated: the news of Baudichon’s

arrest had caused uneasiness among his friends. Men spoke about it ‘in

the city and in the fields,’ everywhere, in short. When friends met one

another, they asked: ‘Have you heard that Baudichon has been brought

before the archiepiscopal court of Lyons for being a Lutheran?’ The

devout (if we may use the words of the manuscript) ‘consigned him to

Satan, as being the principal cause of heresy in Geneva;’[528] while the

huguenots, agitated and alarmed at the dangers that threatened their

friend, considered what was to be done. They determined to act

immediately and simultaneously at Lyons, Berne, and even at Paris, if

they could. Thomas, Baudichon’s brother, started for Lyons at once, and

asked for an audience with Monseigneur du Peyrat, the king’s

Lieutenant-general. ‘For what reason,’ he said, ‘and by what authority

has my brother, Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, been sent to prison?’—‘I do

not detain him,’ answered du Peyrat; ‘apply to the vicars general.’

Thomas, learning that his brother was in the hands of the priests, and

his danger therefore greater, resolved to make every effort to save him.

Thomas and the Genevans were not the only persons interested in this

matter. Baudichon’s imprisonment was an attack upon the rights of the

foreign merchants, and compromised the fairs at Lyons. What German

Lutheran would come there in future? The inhabitants, especially the

innkeepers, tradespeople, and merchants, foresaw great pecuniary loss,

and the princes of commerce felt the injury done to one of their number.

There was, consequently, a great commotion in the city, and many

merchants, ‘as well of the city as foreigners,’ determining to complain

of it, proceeded to the _consulate_ (or town-council), to whom they

represented, ‘with much grief,’[529] that the imprisonment of Baudichon

de la Maisonneuve was an infringement of the privileges of the fairs;

and that many merchants had to receive from him certain sums which it

was impossible for him to pay now, because he could not collect the

money which other merchants owed him. ‘We pray you, therefore,’ they

said, in conclusion, ‘not to suffer our privileges to be

violated.’—‘Release my brother, _à pur et à plein_, without reserve,’

added Thomas de la Maisonneuve. Four of the consuls seconded the

remonstrance.[530] The municipality resolved that Jean de la Bessie,

procurator-general of Lyons, and one councillor should demand

Baudichon’s liberation of the inquisitional court. ‘My brother,’ said

Thomas, ‘is a burgess of Berne and of Friburg, and by virtue of the

treaties between the king and the lords of the League, he cannot be made

a prisoner in this kingdom.’[531] The priests were determined to pay no

regard to the request of the magistrates: a serious incident roused them

from their listlessness.

[Sidenote: Bernese Intervention.]

A despatch had just arrived, addressed to Monseigneur the king’s

lieutenant-general: it was from the lords of Berne. The

lieutenant-general knew well the value of Swiss intervention. Had not

four hundred of them, at the battle of Sesia, after Bayard’s death,

checked, by their impetuosity and the sacrifice of their lives, the army

of the allies? Monseigneur du Peyrat determined, therefore, to support

the prayer of the Bernese, and gave the city secretary the necessary

instructions. The effect of the despatch was still greater upon Thomas

de la Maisonneuve. Now there could be no more delays! Impatient to see

his brother at liberty, imagining that he would succeed better by

hurrying the affair, he would not wait a day or an hour. He should have

considered that haste increases the chances of failure, and that the

impatient man compromises both his character and his cause; but he could

see nothing but Baudichon’s sufferings and the injury done to the

Genevese reformation by his captivity. He was no longer master of

himself: he wanted that very instant to deliver his brother from the

jaws of the lion. ‘Set him free immediately,’ he said, ‘so that we may

be able to answer the lords of Berne by the courier who is ready to

return.’ The vicars-general answered curtly: ‘We are in course to order

it, as is right.’[532] This cold formula appeared of evil omen to

Thomas, and from that hour his fears increased.

On the other hand, Baudichon, informed of what was going on, took

courage; and the judges, fully aware that it would not do to condemn on

suspicious evidence a man who had such powerful supporters, determined

to entice Maisonneuve craftily into some heretical declaration.

On the 5th of May the sergeants once more brought in their prisoner.

‘What are your opinions in regard to faith?’ asked the court. De la

Maisonneuve answered: ‘I am a good Christian; if you do not think so,

deliver me over to my superiors (the magistrates of Geneva) to examine

me.’ But instead of doing so, the vicars-general tried to induce him to

explain his ideas on the subject of transubstantiation, feeling sure of

catching him in an error. The prisoner only replied: ‘I am not bound to

answer you.’ The court tried in vain to induce him to speak: ‘I will not

make any reply,’ he repeated. They read to him Janin’s answer on the

sacrament, which was (it would appear) very shocking to Roman ears, and

asked him what he thought of it; but Baudichon did not fall into the

snare. ‘I am no judge,’ he said, ‘and it is not my business to decide

whether the answer is good or bad.’[533] Then taking the offensive, he

added: ‘If Frenchmen were imprisoned at Geneva for cases analogous to

mine, would you be pleased?’—‘You have Pharellus and other Frenchmen

there,’ answered the judges, ‘and have not surrendered them to the

king.’ The officials of Lyons complained to the man whom they kept in

prison because people were left at liberty in Geneva. Baudichon retorted

proudly: ‘Ours is a free city,’ and withdrew.[534] ‘They set their traps

in vain,’ said a reformer, speaking of the attacks of the papacy. ‘God

has victories abundantly in his hands to triumph over them and their

chief.’[535]

The judges were greatly embarrassed: they desired, not to release

Maisonneuve, but (as he had often been told) to burn him; and yet, as it

was impossible for them not to reply, at least by some formalities, to

such high and mighty lords as Messieurs of Berne, they gave a certain

solemnity to their answer. On Wednesday, the 6th of May, the officials,

vicars-episcopal, inquisitors, and other ecclesiastical dignitaries,

took their seats in front of the main door of the archiepiscopal palace.

In public and in the open air they were about to hear the demand of the

Swiss, supported by the lieutenant-general of the king. The city clerk,

delegated by the councillors of Lyons, set forth the contents of the

letters from Berne, and at the same time Thomas de la Maisonneuve

presented two substantial merchants of the city as bail for his

brother.[536] The cause of the Genevese prisoner was growing in

importance: a sovereign state, which the king had every reason to treat

courteously, had taken up his defence; the trial was becoming an

international matter. The court knew that Francis I. was susceptible,

and that it was dangerous to thwart him, as he had shown in the case of

Beda. After full examination, therefore, they decreed that they ‘would

amply inform the king _our sire_, in order that he may make known his

good pleasure, and until his answer arrives, the said Baudichon shall

not be liberated; at the same time, he shall be permitted, on account of

his business, to speak with those who have dealings with him, in the

presence of the jailers of the archiepiscopal prison, who are enjoined

to treat him well and discreetly, according to his station.’[537]

[Sidenote: Baudichon.]

Two points were gained; Baudichon was to be treated like a prisoner of

mark, and his case was to be laid before the king. The memory of the

_estrapades_ of Paris was too recent for the evangelicals to entertain

very lively hopes: it was, however, a gleam of light. The judges

themselves, feeling that the matter was becoming difficult and success

doubtful, undertook to obtain a recantation from Baudichon, which would,

besides, be more glorious for Rome (they thought) than a sentence of

death. On the 21st of May, therefore, the court having called to their

aid two inquisitors skilful in controversy, Nicholas Morini and Jean

Rapinati, summoned Maisonneuve before them; when Father Morini

endeavored to prove to him out of Scripture the material presence of

Christ in the Sacrament. Baudichon understood the passages quoted

differently from the doctors. Refusing to stop at the material

substance, the flesh (as they did, and also the people of Capernaum who

are blamed in the Gospel), he held to our Saviour’s words: _It is the

spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing; the words that I

speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life_.[538]—‘I understand

these words as well as you, and better, but I will not enter into any

discussion. I am not bound to answer inquisitors.’[539] The court,

provoked by these refusals, resolved to put the grand question to him:

‘Do you yield obedience to our holy father the pope of Rome?’ To the

great disappointment of the vicars-general and inquisitors, he simply

replied: ‘I am not bound to answer.’—‘We are your judges in this

matter,’ they exclaimed with irritation; ‘we order and summon you to

answer.’[540] But he would not; and then, recovering from their emotion,

they tried to surprise him by an insidious question.

Alexander, who had preached the Gospel at Lyons with such energy, had

just been thrown into prison. If De la Maisonneuve acknowledged him for

his friend, they might easily class them together. The judges therefore

asked him insidiously, ‘whether Jacques de la Croix, _alias_ Alexander,

had not in former times eaten and drunk at his house?’—‘If he has eaten

and drunk at my house,’ responded Baudichon, ‘I hope it did him good.’

And that was all. It was impossible to make the prisoner fall into the

trap: his good sense foiled all the plots of his adversaries.

Thus did the judges hunt down an innocent man. At that time men set

themselves up between God and the soul of man. This was not only an

outrage upon human liberty, it was high-treason against Heaven. Such a

grave consideration imparts a tragic interest to this trial, and

encourages us conscientiously to reproduce all its painful phases. The

judge has no concern with the relations of the soul with its Creator.

‘The dominion of man ends where that of God begins.’[541] God does not

give his glory to another. Whoever desires to exercise authority over

the conscience is a madman; nay, more, he is an atheist. He presumes to

move God from his throne and sit in his place.

Footnote 522:

‘Panam et vinum in cœna esse verum corpus et sanguinem Christi.’ _Ant.

Smalcad. Catech. major_, &c.

Footnote 523:

‘Intelligimus spiritualem, supernaturalem, cœlestem modum.’—_Formula

Concordiæ_.

Footnote 524:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 6-9.

Footnote 525:

‘Embastonné et muni d’un allécret.’—MS. du Procès inquisitionnel.

Footnote 526:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 34-41.

Footnote 527:

Ibid. p. 46.

Footnote 528:

‘Le donnaient au diable.’—MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 87-88.

Footnote 529:

‘Fort dolosés.’—MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 52, 53.

Footnote 530:

Henri Guyot, Benoît Rochefort, Pierre Manicier, and Simon Penet. MS.

du Procès inquisitionnel.

Footnote 531:

Ibid. pp. 47-50.

Footnote 532:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 59-61.

Footnote 533:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 62-65.

Footnote 534:

Ibid. pp. 66, 67.

Footnote 535:

Calvin.

Footnote 536:

Thomas Javellot and Loys de la Croix. MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, p.

72.

Footnote 537:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 69-76.

Footnote 538:

St. John vi. 63.

Footnote 539:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 91-94.

Footnote 540:

MS. du Procès inquisitionnel, pp. 95-96.

Footnote 541:

Said by Napoleon I. to a deputation from the Consistory of Geneva.

CHAPTER X.

THE TWO WORSHIPS IN GENEVA.

(MAY TO JULY 1534.)

[Sidenote: Morality In The Reformation.]

While they were prosecuting Maisonneuve on the banks of the Rhone and

the Saône, the struggle between catholicism and reform became more

active on the shores of Lake Leman: an evangelical was threatened with

death at Lyons, but Roman-catholicism was on the point of expiring at

Geneva. It was crumbling away beneath its own weight: the religious

orders, and especially the Franciscans, which had been founded to

support it, were now shaking its foundations. Notorious abuses and

scandalous disorders were making the protest against monkery and popery

more necessary every day. At the very moment when the trial was

beginning at Lyons (3d of May), an honorable lady of Geneva, Madam

Jaquemette Matonnier, passing near the Franciscan convent, observed a

woman noted for her disorderly life stealthily entering the building.

‘It would be better for you,’ she said, ‘to stay with your husband.’ At

these words, two monks who were standing at the door rushed violently

upon Madame Matonnier and beat her until the blood came. This incident,

which soon became known, aroused the whole city. The syndics went to the

convent, shut up the two monks in the prison, and took away the key.

‘Men who live in convents,’ said the people, ‘ought not to be stained

with such depravity; and yet it is hard to find one monastery out of ten

that is not a den of wantonness rather than the home of chastity.’

Sin begat death. The Romish clergy destroyed themselves by the

abominable manners of a great number of their members. But better times

were beginning; morality was springing, in company with faith, from the

tomb in which they had been buried so long, and were spreading through

Christendom the potent germs of a new life. A sad spectacle was that

presented by the Church at the beginning of the sixteenth century! There

were magnificent cathedrals, wealthy pontiffs, sumptuous rites,

admirable paintings, and harmonious chants; but in the midst of all

these pomps yawned an immense void: faith and life were wanting.

Religion was at that time like those winter trees whose frost-covered

branches glitter with a certain brightness under the rays of the sun,

but are all frozen. A new season was beginning, which, by bringing back

the sap into their sterile branches, would cover them with rich foliage

and make them produce savory fruit. We do not say, as an eminent

Christian has said, that the reaction of morality against formalism is

the great fact of the Reformation, its glory and its appropriate title.

Such an assertion omits one essential element. The grand title of the

Reformation is to have restored to Christendom religion in its entirety,

the truth with the life, doctrine with morality. If one had been

wanting, the other would not have sufficed, and the Reformation would

hot have existed.

While Roman-catholicism was falling lower through the disorders of the

monks, evangelical Christianity was rising through the zeal of the

reformers. Farel, Viret, and Froment preached every day, either publicly

or in private houses, ‘to the great advancement of the Word of God,

which increased much.’ The Reformation was no longer a mere teaching; it

entered into the manners and worship, and produced life. On the Sunday

after Easter, Farel gave his blessing to the first evangelical marriage.

[Sidenote: A Savoyard Procession.]

When sincere catholics, and even those who were not so, saw these

strange contrasts, they imagined that the last hour of the papacy in

Geneva had arrived. A final effort must be made, but unfortunately the

remedies employed were not much better than the disease. One day a

report spread instantaneously through the whole city that the Blessed

Virgin, arrayed in white robes, had appeared to the curate in the church

of St. Leger, and ordered a grand procession of all the surrounding

districts. She added that if this were done, ‘the Lutherans would all

burst in the middle: but if the order was not obeyed, the city would be

swallowed up.’[542] The huguenots smiled, inquired into the matter, and

at the end of authentic investigations, discovered that the fine lady

was the curate’s housemaid. But many catholics in Geneva, and almost all

in Savoy, were convinced of the reality of the apparition. The clergy

mustered their forces. ‘It depends upon you,’ they said in many places,

‘to put all the heretics in Geneva to death.’ The devotees of the

neighboring parishes began to stir in this pious work, and on the 15th

of May a long procession of men, women, and children arrived before the

city. They were heard singing lustily in the Savoyard tongue—

_Mare de Dy, pryy pou nous!_

(Mother of God, pray for us!)

The Council, fearing a disturbance, would not let them enter, and they

had to be content with going to Our Lady of Grace, near the Arve bridge.

As the poor people had eaten nothing on the road, and were exhausted,

the syndics sent them bread; and after taking some refreshments, the

assemblage turned homewards. Many Genevese, anxious to see them close,

went out of the city, and collected on their road, and as the Savoyards

passed before them singing _Mare de Dy, pryy pou nous!_ the bantering

huguenots answered to the same tune: _Frare Farel, pregy toujours!_

Brother Farel, preach forever![543]

All was not over: the story of the apparition of the Virgin and of her

commandment having reached as far as the capital of the Chablais, the

heights of Cologny were soon crowned by a numerous and compact

procession, in appearance more formidable than the first: it was the men

of Thonon and the adjoining places, who, carrying banners, crosses, and

relics, were descending the hill with a firm step. The stalwart pilgrims

boldly passed the gates of the city, the huguenots, who were listening

to Farel, not being there to prevent them; and on reaching the Bourg de

Four, halted before the church of St. Claire. The alarm spread

immediately: some citizens entering the auditory where Farel was

preaching, announced this Romish invasion. The reformer did not disturb

himself; but some of his hearers, the fiery Perrin, the energetic

Goulaz, and others, went out, and, charging the head of the procession,

drove back at the point of the sword the Savoyards who had entered

Geneva as if it were a village of the Chablais. The startled pilgrims

threw away their banners with affright, and fled from the city. Froment

supposes that as the enemy from within had not had time to join with

those from without, the plot had failed; but we rather believe that

these devout pilgrims calculated only on their litanies in their war

against the Lutherans. Those processions, those banners of the Virgin,

those paltry relics, inspired the reformed with a still deeper disgust

for Roman-catholicism: even the pomps of St. Pierre’s touched them

little more than the fetichism of the Savoyards. They were beginning to

understand that public worship ought not to be a spectacle, and that to

burden the Church with a multitude of rites is to rob her of the

presence of Christ.

[Sidenote: The Images Destroyed.]

The audacity displayed by these catholic bands emboldened some of the

huguenots. If Savoyards came to strengthen their faith in Geneva, ought

they to hesitate to show theirs? Some hot-headed members of the Reform

permitted themselves to be carried away to the committal of

reprehensible acts. Whenever they went to the Franciscan cloister, the

first object that struck their eyes was the image of St. Anthony of

Padua, a miracle-monger of the thirteenth century, having eight other

saints on each side of it. These pious figures, ranged over the convent

gate, irritated the huguenots. It was vain to tell them that pictures

are _the books of the ignorant_: the reformers answered that if the

catholic prelates left the duty of teaching the people to _idols_, they

would prefer remaining at home in their chairs. ‘If you had not taken

the Bible from the Church,’ said the huguenots, ‘you would have had no

necessity to hang up your paintings.’ Accordingly, between eleven and

twelve o’clock one Saturday night, nine men carrying a ladder approached

the convent, raised it silently against the porch, and then, with

hammers and chisels, began to destroy the images. They cut off the head

and limbs of the saint, leaving only his trunk; they did the same to the

others, and threw the fragments into the well of St. Clair. The night

passed without any disturbance, but in the morning there was a great

uproar in the city. ‘What a piteous sight!’ said the devout assembled

before the porch of St. Francis. The iconoclasts, who were discovered

after a little time, were punished, but the images were not restored.

‘Alas!’ said the Friburgers, ‘Geneva is about to pull down the altars of

the Romish faith!’—‘It is,’ answered the Bernese, ‘because upon these

very altars the bishop desired to burn the venerable charters of her

people, and has sprinkled them with the blood of her most illustrious

citizens.’[544]... Sensuous worship no longer pleased the Genevans.

Those labored pictures, those sculptured angels, those dazzling

decorations, that charm of ceremonies and edifices, those shafts and

pediments, those unintelligible chants, those intoxicating perfumes,

those mechanical performances of the priests, with their gold and

lace—all these things disgusted them exceedingly. Since God is a spirit,

they said, those who worship him must worship him in spirit, by the

inward faith of the heart, by purity of conscience, and by offering

themselves to God to do his will.

The hour had come when this spiritual worship was to be really

celebrated in Geneva: the Feast of Pentecost had arrived. On that day a

large crowd had assembled in the Great Auditory. It was not only such as

Vandel, Chautemps, Roset, Levet, with their wives and friends, who

resorted thither, but new hearers were added to the old ones. Farel

preached with fervor. He was accustomed to say that ‘God sends rain upon

one city when he pleases, while another city has not a single drop;’ and

therefore he conjured ‘all hearts thirsting with desire for the

preaching of the Gospel’[545] to pray that the Spirit might be given

them. We have not his Whitsunday sermon, he preached extempore; but we

know that he ended it by giving glory _to the Father, Son, and Holy

Ghost, the only true God_, and that his discourse bore good fruit.

Several circumstances had prepared his audience. The plot of the bishop

and the duke which God had frustrated, the nomination of the huguenot

syndics, the rupture with Friburg, Maisonneuve’s imprisonment—all these

events had stirred their hearts, had cleft them as the ploughshare

cleaves the earth, and opened them to the seed from heaven. What now

shone before the eyes of those who filled the Grand Auditory ‘were not

the petty flames of human candles, but Christ, the great sun of

righteousness, as if at noonday.’[546] While the priests were chanting

words that sounded only in the air, the voice of the reformer had

penetrated to the very bottom of men’s hearts. The proof was soon

visible.

[Sidenote: Bernard’s CONVERSION.]