FRANCIS I. AND MARGARET OF ANGOULEME--EARLY REFORMATORY MOVEMENTS AND
STRUGGLES.
[Sidenote: Francis I. and his sister.]
[Sidenote: The portrait of the king.]
Francis the First and his sister, Margaret of Angouleme, were destined
to exercise so important an influence in shaping the history of the
French Reformation during the first half of the sixteenth century, that
a glance at their personal history and character seems indispensable.
Francis Was in his twenty-first year when, by the extinction of the
elder line of the house of Orleans, the crown came to him as the nearest
heir of Louis the Twelfth.[212] He was tall, but well proportioned, of a
fair complexion, with a body capable of enduring without difficulty
great exposure and fatigue. In an extant portrait, taken five years
later, he is delineated with long hair and scanty beard. The drooping
lids give to his eyes a languid expression, while the length of his
nose, which earned him the sobriquet of "le roi au long nez," redeems
his physiognomy from any approach to heaviness.[213] On the other hand,
the Venetian Marino Cavalli, writing shortly before the close of his
reign, eulogizes the personal appearance of Francis, at that time more
than fifty years old. His mien was so right royal, we are assured, that
even a foreigner, never having seen him before, would single him out
from any company and instinctively exclaim, "This is the king!" No ruler
of the day surpassed him in gravity and nobility of bearing. Well did he
deserve to succeed that long line of monarchs upon each of whom the
sacred oil, applied at his coronation in the cathedral of Rheims, had
conferred the marvellous property of healing the king's-evil by a simple
touch.[214]
[Sidenote: His character and tastes.]
At his accession, the lively imagination of Francis, fed upon the
romances of chivalry that constituted his favorite reading, called up
the picture of a brilliant future, wherein gallant deeds in arms should
place him among the most renowned knights of Christendom. The ideal
character he proposed for himself involving a certain regard for his
word, Francis's mind revolted from imitating the plebeian duplicity of
his wily predecessor, Louis the Eleventh--a king who enjoyed the
undesirable reputation of never having made a promise which he intended
in good faith to keep. The memory of the disingenuous manner in which
Louis, by winking at the opposition of the Parliament of Paris, had
suffered the revocation of the Pragmatic Sanction to fail, in spite of
his own solemn engagements to carry it into execution, was, undoubtedly,
one of the leading motives inducing the young prince, at the very
beginning of his reign, to adopt the arbitrary measures already spoken
of in a preceding chapter, respecting the papal concordat. Not for half
his kingdom, he repeatedly declared, would he break the pledge he had
given his Holiness. It is not difficult, however, to reconcile the
pertinacity of Francis, on this occasion, with the frequent and well
authenticated instances of bad faith in his dealings with other
monarchs.
If his literary abilities were slender and his acquirements meagre, this
king had at least the faculty of appreciating excellence in others. The
scholars and wits whom, as we have seen, he succeeded in gathering about
him, repaid his munificence with lavish praise, couched in all manner of
verse, and in every language employed in the civilized world. Even later
historians have not hesitated to rate him much higher than his very
moderate abilities would seem to warrant.[215] The portrait drawn by the
biographer of his imperial rival is, perhaps, full as advantageous as a
regard for truth will permit us to accept. "Francis," says Robertson,
"notwithstanding the many errors conspicuous in his foreign policy and
domestic administration, was nevertheless humane, beneficent, generous.
He possessed dignity without pride, affability free from meanness, and
courtesy exempt from deceit. All who had access to him, and no man of
merit was ever denied that privilege, respected and loved him.
Captivated with his personal qualities, his subjects forgot his defects
as a monarch, and, admiring him as the most accomplished and amiable
gentleman in his dominions, they hardly murmured at acts of
maladministration, which, in a prince of less engaging dispositions,
would have seemed unpardonable."[216]
[Sidenote: Contrast between Francis I. and Charles V.]
Two monarchs could scarcely be more dissimilar than were Francis and the
Emperor Charles. "So great is the difference between these two princes,"
says the Venetian Giustiniano, "that, as her most serene majesty the
Queen of Navarre, the king's sister, remarked to me when talking on the
subject, one of the two must needs be created anew by God after the
pattern of the other, before they could agree. For, whilst the most
Christian king is reluctant to assume the burden of great thoughts or
undertakings, and devotes himself much to the chase or to his own
pleasures, the emperor never thinks of anything but business and
aggrandizement; and, whereas the most Christian king is simple, open,
and very liberal, and quite sufficiently inclined to defer to the
judgment and counsel of others, the emperor is reserved, parsimonious,
and obstinate in his opinions, governing by himself, rather than through
any one else."[217]
This diversity of temperament and disposition had ample scope for
manifestation during the protracted wars waged by the two monarchs with
each other. Fit representative of the race to which he belonged, Francis
was bold, adventurous, and almost resistless in the impetuosity of a
first assault. But he soon tired of his undertakings, and relinquished
to the cooler and more calculating Charles the solid fruits of
victory.[218]
[Sidenote: Francis's religious convictions.]
Of the possession of deep religious convictions I do not know that
Francis has left any satisfactory evidence. That he was not strongly
attached to the Roman church, that he thoroughly despised the ignorant
monks, whose dissolute lives he well knew, that he had no extraordinary
esteem for the Pope, all this is clear enough from many incidents of his
life. It would even appear that, at one or two points, he might have
been pleased to witness such a reformation of the church as could be
effected without disturbing the existing order. To this he was the more
inclined, that he found almost all the men distinguished for their
learning arrayed on the side of the "new doctrines," as they were
styled, while the pretorian legion of the papacy was headed by the
opponents of letters.
[Sidenote: His fear of innovation.]
It will be found, however, that several circumstances tended to
counteract or reverse the king's favorable prepossessions. Not least
influential was a pernicious sentiment studiously instilled in his mind
by those whose material interests were all on the side of the
maintenance of the existing system--_that a change of religion
necessarily involves a change of government_. We shall hear much during
the century of this lying political axiom. When Francis, in his
irritation at the Pope, suggested, on one occasion, to the Nuncio, that
he might be compelled to follow the example Henry the Eighth, of
England, had set him, and permit the spread of the "Lutheran" religion
in France, the astute prelate replied: "Sire, to speak with all
frankness, you would be the first to repent your rash step. Your loss
would be greater than the Pope's; for _a new religion established in the
midst of a people involves nothing short of a change of prince_."[219]
And the same author that records this incident tells us that Francis
hated the Lutheran "heresy," and used to say that this, like every other
new sect, tended more to the destruction of kingdoms than to the
edification of souls.[220] Nor must it be overlooked that Francis
doubtless felt strongly confirmed in his persuasion, by the rash and
disorderly acts of some restless and inconsiderate spirits such as are
wont eagerly to embrace any new belief. Not the peasants' insurrections
in Germany alone, but as well the excesses of the iconoclasts, and the
imprudence of the authors of the famous placards of 1534, although their
acts were distinctly repudiated by the vast majority of the French
reformers, inflicted irretrievable damage, by furnishing plausible
arguments to those who accused the Protestants of being authors or
abettors of riot and confusion.
[Sidenote: His loose morals.]
A second reason of the early estrangement of Francis from the "new
doctrines" has more frequently been overlooked. The rigid code of morals
which the reformers established, and which John Calvin attempted to make
in Geneva the law of the state, repelled a prince who, though twice
married and both times to women devoted to his interests and faithful to
their vows, treated his lawful wives with open neglect, and preferred to
consort with perfidious mistresses, who sold to the enemy for money his
confidential disclosures--a prince who, not satisfied with introducing
excesses until then unheard of among his nobles, was not ashamed to
bestow the royal bounty upon the professed head of the degraded women
whom he allowed to accompany the court from place to place.[221]
[Sidenote: His anxiety to obtain the support of the Pope.]
If to these two motives we add a third--the desire of the king to avail
himself of the important influence of the Roman pontiff upon the
politics of Europe--we shall be at no loss to account for the singular
fact that the brother of Margaret of Angouleme, in spite of his sister's
entreaties and the promptings of his own better feeling--at times in
defiance of his own manifest advantage--became during the later part of
his reign the first of that long line of persecutors of whom the
Huguenots were the unhappy victims.
[Sidenote: Studious disposition of Margaret.]
Margaret was two years older than her brother. Born April 11, 1492, in
the city of Angouleme, she enjoyed, in common with Francis, all the
opportunities of liberal culture afforded by her exalted station. These
opportunities her keener intellect enabled her to improve far better
than the future king. While Francis was indulging his passion for the
chase, in company with Robert de la Marck, "the Boar of the Ardennes,"
Margaret was patiently applying herself to study. It is not always easy
to determine how much is to be set down as truth, and how much belongs
to the category of fiction, in the current stories of the scholarly
attainments of princely personages. But there is good reason in the
present case to believe that, unlike most of the ladies of her age that
were reputed prodigies of learning, Margaret of Angouleme did not
confine herself to the modern languages, but became proficient in
Latin, besides acquiring some notion of Greek and Hebrew. By extensive
reading, and through intercourse with the best living masters of the
French language, she made herself a graceful writer. She was, moreover,
a poet of no mean pretensions, as her verses, often comparing favorably
with those of Clement Marot, abundantly testify. It was, however, to the
higher walks of philosophical and religious thought that Margaret felt
most strongly drawn. Could implicit credit be given to the partial
praises of her professed eulogist, Charles de Sainte-Marthe, who owed
his escape from the stake to her powerful intercession, we might affirm
that the contemplation of the sublime truths of Revelation early
influenced her entire character, and that "the Spirit of God began then
to manifest His presence in her eyes, her expression, her walk, her
conversation--in a word, in all her actions."[222]
[Sidenote: Her personal appearance.]
But, whatever may have been the precocious virtues of Margaret at the
age of fifteen, it is certain that when, by her brother's elevation to
the throne, she was introduced to the foremost place at court, it was
her remarkable qualities of heart, quite as much as her recognized
mental abilities, that called forth universal admiration. Her personal
appearance, it is true, was a favorite subject for the encomium of
poets; but her portraits fail to justify their panegyrics, and convey no
impression of beauty. The features are large, the nose as conspicuously
long as her brother's; yet the sweetness of expression, upon which Marot
is careful chiefly to dwell in one of his elegant poetical epistles, is
not less noticeable.[223]
[Sidenote: Her political Influence.]
In the conduct of public affairs Margaret took no insignificant part.
Francis was accustomed so uniformly to entrust his mother and sister
with important state secrets, that to the powerful council thus firmly
united by filial and fraternal ties the term "Trinity" was applied, not
only by the courtiers, but by the royal family itself.[224] Foreign
diplomatists extolled Margaret's intelligent statesmanship, and asserted
that she was consulted on every occasion.[225] It is a substantial claim
of Margaret to the respect of posterity, that the influence thus enjoyed
was, apparently, never prostituted to the advancement of selfish ends,
but constantly exerted in the interest of learning, humanity, and
religious liberty.
Margaret was first married, in 1509, to the Duke of Alencon, a prince
whose cowardice on the battle-field of Pavia (1525), where he commanded
the French left wing, is said to have been the principal cause of the
defeat and capture of his royal brother-in-law. He made good his own
escape, only to die, at Lyons, of disease induced by exposure and
aggravated by bitter mortification. The next two years were spent by
Margaret in unremitting efforts to secure her brother's release. With
this object in view she obtained from the emperor a safe-conduct
enabling her to visit and console Francis in his imprisonment at Madrid,
and endeavor to settle with his captor the terms of his ransom. But,
while admiring her sisterly devotion, Charles showed little disposition
to yield to her solicitations. In fact, he even issued an order to seize
her person the moment the term of her safe-conduct should expire--a
peril avoided by the duchess only by forced marches. As it was, she
crossed the frontier, it is said, a single hour before the critical
time. The motive of this signal breach of imperial courtesy was,
doubtless, the well-founded belief that Margaret was bearing home to
France a royal abdication in favor of the Dauphin.[226]
[Sidenote: Margaret marries Henry of Navarre.]
Early in 1527, Margaret was married with great pomp to Henri d'Albret,
King of Navarre.[227] The match would seem to have been prompted by love
and admiration on her side; for the groom had performed a romantic
exploit in effecting his escape from prison after his capture at
Pavia.[228] In spite of the great disparity between the ages of Margaret
and her husband,[229] the union was congenial, and added greatly to the
power and resources of the latter. The duchies of Alencon and Berry more
than equalled in extent the actual domain of the King of Navarre; for,
from the time when Ferdinand the Catholic (in July, 1512) wrested from
brave Catharine of Foix and her inefficient husband John[230] all their
possessions on the southern slope of the Pyrenees,[231] the authority
of the titular monarch was respected only in the mountainous district of
which Pau was the capital, and to which the names of Bearn or French
Navarre are indifferently applied. The union thus auspiciously begun
lasted, unbroken by domestic contention, until the death of Margaret, in
1549;[232] and the pompous ceremonial attending the queen's obsequies is
said to have been a sincere attestation of the universal sorrow
affecting the King of Navarre and his subjects alike.
[Sidenote: She corresponds with Bishop Briconnet.]
It was through the instrumentality of the Bishop of Meaux that Margaret
of Angouleme was first drawn into sympathy with the reformatory
movement. Unsatisfied with herself and with the influences surrounding
her, she sought in Briconnet a spiritual adviser and guide. The prelate,
in the abstruse and almost unintelligible language of exaggerated
mysticism, endeavored to fulfil the trust. His prolix correspondence
still exists in manuscript in the National Library of Paris, together
with the replies of his royal penitent. Its incomprehensibility may
perhaps forever preclude the publication of the greater part;[233] but
we can readily forgive the bishop's absurdities and far-fetched
conceits, when we find him in his letters leading Margaret to the Holy
Scriptures as the only source of spiritual strength, and enjoining a
humble and docile reception of its teachings.
[Sidenote: Luther's teachings condemned by the Sorbonne.]
On the fifteenth of April, 1521, the University of Paris, whose opinion
respecting Luther's tenets the entire Christian world had for two years
been anxiously expecting, pronounced its solemn decision. It condemned
the writings of the German monk to the flames, on the ground that they
were seductive, insulting to the hierarchy, contrary to Scripture, and
schismatic. It likened his latest production, _De Captivitate
Babylonica_, to Alcoran. It branded as preposterous the notion that God
had reserved the discovery of what is needful to the salvation of the
faithful for Martin Luther to make; as though Christ had left his
spouse, the Church, so many centuries, and until now, in the darkness
and blindness of error. Such sentiments as he uttered were a denial of
the first principles of the faith, an unblushing profession of impiety,
an arrogance so impious that it must be repressed by chains and
censures--nay, by fire and by flame, rather than refuted by
argument.[234] A long list of heretical propositions selected from
Luther's works was appended.[235]
[Sidenote: Melanchthon's defence.]
In the month of June following, Melanchthon replied to the Sorbonne's
condemnation. He declared that, could the great Gerson and his
illustrious associates and predecessors rise from the dead, they would
fail to recognize in the present race of theologians their legitimate
offspring, and that they would deplore the misfortune of the university
as well as of the whole of Christendom, in that sophists had usurped the
place of theologians, and slanderers the seat of Christian doctors. As
for the silly letter prefixed to the decree, the reformer wrote, it is a
feeble production full of womanish fury: "He pretends to the sole
possession of wisdom. He contemns us. He is a Manichaean, a Montanist; he
is mad. Let him be compelled by fire and flame." Who could refrain from
derisive laughter at the unmanly and truly monkish weakness of such
threats?[236]
[Sidenote: Regency of Louise de Savoie.]
In the summer of 1523 the king, in order to provide for the government
of France during his expected absence from the capital, appointed his
mother temporary regent--a dignity which Louise de Savoie enjoyed more
than once during Francis's reign. The chancellor, Antoine Duprat,
embraced the opportunity to persuade the queen mother that she could
not better atone for the irregularities of her own life than by
enforcing submission to the authority of the papal church. What causes
had contributed to the very radical change apparently effected in her
mental attitude to the established ecclesiastical system, since she had
in the preceding December discovered the monks, of whatever color their
cowl might be, to be arrant "hypocrites" and the most "dangerous
generation of human kind"--if, indeed, any such change in her mental
attitude had really taken place at all, and her present zeal was not
altogether assumed from political motives--we have not the means of
determining with certainty. However this may be, she was now induced to
take a much more decided stand than Francis had ever taken in opposition
to the reformed doctrines, of whose spread, not only in Meaux and other
cities in the provinces, but even in Paris, both in the schools of
learning and without, there began to be symptoms alarming to the
hierarchy.
[Sidenote: The Sorbonne's recommendations for the extirpation of
heresy.]
As a preliminary step, the regent sent her confessor, Friar Gilbert
Nicolai, to the Sorbonne, with instructions to consult it respecting
"the means to be employed for purging this very Christian realm of the
damnable doctrine of Luther." It need scarcely be said that the message
was received with great delight. The theological doctors soon replied,
rendering thanks to Almighty God for having inspired Louise with the
holy purpose of executing whatever might be found most likely to promote
God's honor and the prosperity of France.[237] What measures did they
propose to her as best calculated to accomplish this laudable end?
Sermons, disputations, books, and other scholastic means, they write,
may be employed in the refutation of the errors of Luther, as indeed
they are every day employed, at the Sorbonne's instigation, and from
this instrumentality some good effects may be expected; but since, after
all, neither sermons nor books, however learned and conclusive, _compel_
any person to renounce his heretical views, more practical and coercive
measures must be adopted if the object is to be attained. All royal
officers must be enjoined strictly to enforce every order promulgated
against heretics. The prelates must be urged to demand, on pain of
excommunication, the surrender of all books of Luther or his supporters
found in their dioceses. Meanwhile, the highest ecclesiastical censures
are to be directed against those who in any way uphold the heterodox
belief. It is only in this way that hope can reasonably be entertained
of suppressing this pernicious innovation, which may yet inflict still
greater evils upon unfortunate France; since the Scriptures tell us that
pestilence, famine, and war served as a rod for the punishment of God's
chosen nation of old, whenever it forsook the pure precepts of the law
given by the Almighty.
In reply to another inquiry made by the regent at the same time, the
Sorbonne enters into greater detail. If any one complains that he is
unjustly accused of favoring the heresy that has recently appeared, let
him clear himself by following St. Paul's example, who, when brought to
the knowledge of the truth, instantly undertook the defence of what he
had ignorantly persecuted. Rumors that some persons in high places are
friendly to the spread of the new errors have gained lamentable
currency, both at home and abroad. They have obtained confirmation from
the praise lately lavished by "some great personages" upon the doctrine
of Luther, and the blame poured upon its opponents. The execution of the
king's order for the burning of Luther's books has been singularly
delayed. Worst of all have been the obstacles placed in the way of the
pious efforts of the prelates, either without the consent of the king,
or by him ill-advised--for example, in the proceedings of the Bishop of
Paris against Louis de Berquin. Similar impediments have been interposed
to prevent the condemnation by parliament and university of the printed
works of this same Berquin and of Lefevre d'Etaples; while, as if to
make the affair still more scandalous, two treatises lately written in
refutation of Luther's doctrines have been seized in the name of the
king and by his authority.[238]
[Sidenote: Wide circulation of Luther's works.]
Such were the complaints of the theological faculty, such the means
suggested for the destruction of the new leaven that was already
beginning to assert its mission to permeate society. There were
certainly sufficient grounds for apprehension. The works of Luther, as
we have before seen, had early been translated into French, and a
contemporary writer confirms the statement that they had already been
widely disseminated.[239] An order of parliament, referred to in its
communication to the regent, had indeed been published, to the sound of
the trumpet, throughout the city of Paris (August 3, 1521), strictly
commanding all booksellers, printers, and others that might have copies
in their possession, to give them up within the space of eight days, on
pain of imprisonment and fine.[240] But even this measure failed to
accomplish the desired result. The Reformation was silently extending
its influence, as some significant events sufficiently proved.
[Sidenote: Lambert, the first French monk to embrace the Reformation.]
At Avignon, copies of several of the writings of Martin Luther fell into
the hands of Francois Lambert, son of a former private secretary of the
papal legate entrusted with the government of the Comtat Venaissin. He
was a man of vivid imagination, keen religious sensibilities, and marked
oratorical powers. He had at the age of fifteen been so deeply impressed
by the saintly appearance of the Franciscans as to seek admission to
their monastery as a novice. No sooner did he assume, a year later
(1503), the irrevocable vows that constituted him a monk, than his
disenchantment began. According to his own account, the quarrelsome and
debauched friars no longer felt any of the solicitude they had
previously entertained lest the knowledge of their excesses should deter
him from embracing a "religious" life. A few years later Lambert became
a preacher, and having, through a somewhat careful study of the Holy
Scriptures, embraced more evangelical views than were held by most of
his order, began to deliver discourses as well received by the people as
they were hated by his fellow-monks. Great was the outcry against him
when he openly denounced the misdeeds of a worthless vender of papal
indulgences; still greater when copies of Luther's treatises were found
in his possession. The books were seized, sealed, condemned, and burned,
although scarcely a glance had been vouchsafed at their contents. It was
enough for the monkish judges to cry: "They are heretical! They are
heretical!" "Nevertheless," exclaims honest Lambert, kindling with
indignation at the remembrance of the scene, "I confidently assert that
those same books of Luther contain more of pure theology than all the
writings of all the monks that have lived since the creation of the
world."[241]
[Sidenote: He is also the first to renounce celibacy.]
Lambert had made full trial of the monastic life. He had even immured
himself for some time in a Carthusian retreat, but found its inmates in
no respect superior to the Franciscans. At last an opportunity for
escape offered. In 1522, when a score of years had passed since he
entered upon his novitiate, he was despatched with letters to the
general of his order. Instead of fulfilling his commission, he traversed
Switzerland, and made his way to Wittemberg, where he satisfied the
desire he had long entertained, of meeting the great reformer to whose
works he owed his own spiritual enlightenment. Full of zeal for the
propagation of the doctrines he had embraced, Lambert, not long after
(1524), established himself at Metz as a favorable point from which
France might be influenced. But the commotion excited by his
opponents--perhaps, also, his own lack of prudence--compelled him within
a fortnight to flee to Strasbourg.[242] Here, more secure, but scarcely
more judicious, he busied himself with sending over the French borders
numbers of tracts composed or translated by himself, and addressing to
Francis and the chief persons of his court appeals which, doubtless,
rarely if ever reached their eyes.[243] In another field of labor, to
which the Landgrave of Hesse called him, Francois Lambert performed
services far more important than any he was permitted to render his
native land. As the first French monk to throw aside his habit--above
all, as the first to renounce celibacy and defend in a published
treatise the step he had taken (1523), no French reformer, even among
those of far greater abilities and wider influence, was regarded by the
adherents of the Roman Catholic Church with so intense a dislike.[244]
The firm hold which the Reformation was gaining on the population of
several places of great importance, close upon the eastern frontiers of
the kingdom, was a portent of evil in the eyes of the Sorbonne; for
Metz, St. Hippolyte, and Montbeliard, all destined to be absorbed in the
growing territories of France, were already bound to it by close ties of
commercial intercourse.
[Sidenote: Jean Chatellain, of Metz.]
In Metz the powerful appeals of an Augustinian monk, Jean Chatellain,
had powerfully moved the masses. He was as eloquent as he was learned,
as commanding in appearance as fearless in the expression of his
belief.[245] The attempt to molest him would have proved a very
dangerous one for the clergy of Metz to make; for the enthusiasm of the
laity in his support knew no bounds, and the churchmen prudently avoided
giving it an occasion for manifestation. But, no sooner had Chatellain
been induced on some pretext to leave the safe protection of the walls,
than a friar of his own order and monastery betrayed him to the
bishop.[246] He was hurriedly taken to Nommeny, and thence to Vic for
trial and execution. In vain did the Inquisitor of the Faith strive to
shake his constancy. His judges were forced to liken their incorrigible
prisoner to the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear. As "a preacher of
false doctrines," an "apostate" and a "liar toward God Almighty," they
declared him excommunicated and deprived of whatever ecclesiastical
benefices he might hold. The faithful compiler of the French martyrology
gives in accurate, but painful, detail the successive steps by which
Chatellain was stripped of the various prerogatives conferred upon him
in ordination. I shall not repeat the story of sacred vessels placed in
his hands only to be hastily snatched from them, of the scraping of his
fingers supposed to remove the grace of consecration, of chasuble and
stole indignantly taken away--in short, of all the petty devices of a
malice at which the mind wearies and the heart sickens. It was perhaps a
fitting sequel to the ceremony that the degrading bishop should hand his
victim over to the representative of the secular arm to be put to death,
with a hypocritical recommendation to mercy: "Lord Judge, we entreat you
as affectionately as we can, as well by the love of God, as from pity
and compassion, and out of respect for our prayers, that you do this
wretched man no injury tending to death or the mutilation of his
body."[247] The prayer was granted--according to the intent of the
petitioner. On the twelfth of January, 1525, Chatellain was led to the
place of execution, as cheerful in demeanor, the witnesses said, as if
walking to a feast. At the stake he knelt and offered a short prayer,
then met his horrible sentence with a constancy that won many converts
to the faith for which he had suffered. At the news of the fate of their
admired teacher, the citizens of Metz could not contain their rage. A
tumultuous scene ensued, in which it was well that the
ecclesiastics--there were more than nine hundred within the
walls[248]--escaped with no greater injury at the hands of the angry
populace than some passing insults. John Vedast, an evangelical teacher,
was at that time in confinement, reserved for a similar doom to that of
Chatellain. He was liberated by the people, who, in a body membering
several thousand men, visited his prison and enabled him to escape to a
safe refuge. It was not until a strong detachment of troops had been
thrown into the city that the burgesses were reduced to submission.[249]
"None the less," admits a Roman Catholic historian, "did Lutheranism
spread over the entire district of Metz."[250]
[Sidenote: Tragic end of Wolfgang Schuch.]
At St. Hippolyte, a town near the Swiss frontier, dependent upon the
Duke of Lorraine, similar success and a similarly tragic end were the
results of the zealous labors of Wolfgang Schuch, a priest of German
extraction. The "good duke" Antoine, having been led to confound the
peaceable disciples of Schuch with the revolted peasants, whose ravages
had excited widespread alarm throughout Germany, publicly proclaimed his
intention of visiting the town that harbored them with fire and sword.
To propitiate him by removing his misapprehension, Schuch wrote to the
duke a singularly touching letter containing a candid exposition of the
religion he professed;[251] but finding that his missive had been of no
avail, he resolved to immolate himself in behalf of his flock. At
Nancy, the capital of the duchy, whither he had gone to dissuade Antoine
from executing his savage threats, he was thrown into a loathsome
dungeon, while the University of Paris was consulted respecting the
soundness of thirty-one propositions extracted from his writings by the
Inquisitor of Lorraine. On the nineteenth of August, 1525--the
theologians of the Sorbonne having some months before reported
unfavorably upon the theses submitted to them--Wolfgang Schuch was
consigned to the flames.[252]
[Sidenote: Farel at Montbeliard.]
Less sanguinary results attended the Reformation at Montbeliard, where
the indefatigable Farel was the chief actor. One of those highly
dramatic incidents, in which the checkered life of this remarkable man
abounds, is said to have preceded his withdrawal from the city.
Happening, on St. Anthony's day, to meet, upon a bridge spanning a
narrow stream in the neighborhood, a solemn procession headed by priests
chanting the praises of the saint whose effigy they bore aloft, Farel
was seized with an uncontrollable desire to arrest the impious service.
Snatching the image from the hands of ecclesiastics who were little
prepared for so sudden an onslaught, he indignantly cried, "Wretched
idolaters, will you never forsake your idolatry?" At the same instant he
threw the saint into the water, before the astonished devotees had time
to interfere. Had not some one just then opportunely raised the shout,
"The saint is drowning," it might have gone hard with the fearless
iconoclast.[253]
The Reformation was thus gaining a foothold in the bishopric of Metz, in
the duchy of Lorraine, and the county of Montbeliard--districts as yet
independent of France, in which country they were subsequently merged.
But, if suffered to be victorious at these important points, it might
readily cross the borders and spread with irresistible force to the
contiguous parts of Francis's dominions. Nearer home, the reformatory
movement at Meaux, though abandoned by the bishop who had fostered its
first development, was not wholly suppressed. In Lyons and Grenoble,
Friar Aime Maigret had preached such evangelical sermons--in French to
the people and in Latin to the Parliament of Dauphiny--that he had been
sent to Paris to be examined by the Sorbonne. The primate and his
council had seen with solicitude that from the ashes of Waldo and the
Poor Men of Lyons "very many new shoots were springing up,"[254] and
called for some signal act of severity to repress the growing evil.
[Sidenote: Pierre Caroli lectures on the Psalms.]
In Paris itself the Sorbonne found reason for alarm. The sympathy of
Margaret of Angouleme with the friends of progress was recognized. It
had already availed for the deliverance of Louis de Berquin, whose
remarkable history will find a place in the next chapter. Nor did the
redoubted syndic of the theological faculty, Beda, or Bedier, reign
without a rival in the academic halls. Pierre Caroli, one of the doctors
invited by Briconnet to Meaux, a clever wrangler, and never better
pleased than when involved in controversy, albeit a man of shallow
religious convictions and signal instability, wearied out by his
counter-plots the illustrious heresy-hunter. When forbidden to preach,
Caroli opened a course of lectures upon the Psalms in the College de
Cambray. Having then been interdicted from continuing his prelections,
he made the modest request to be permitted to finish the exposition of
the 22d Psalm, which he had begun. This being refused, the disputatious
doctor posted the following notice on the doors of the college: "Pierre
Caroli, wishing to conform to the orders of the sacred faculty, ceases
to teach. He will resume his lectures (when it shall please God) where
he left off, at the verse, 'They pierced my hands and my feet.'"[255]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The Heptameron of the Queen of Navarre.]
I have reserved for this place a few remarks respecting the
_Heptameron_ of Margaret of Angouleme, which seem required by the
disputed character or this singular work. I have spoken at length
of the virtues of the Queen of Navarre, and I may here add a
statement of my strong conviction that the accusation is altogether
groundless which ascribes a sinister meaning to the strong
expressions of sisterly affection so frequent in her correspondence
with Francis the First (see M. Genin, Supplement a la notice sur
Marg. d'Angouleme, prefixed to the second volume of the Letters).
Nor do I make any account of the vague statement of that mendacious
libertine, Brantome, who doubtless imagined himself to be paying
the Queen of Navarre the most delicate compliment, when he said,
that "of gallantry she knew more than her daily bread."
But, whatever the purity of Margaret's own private life, the fact
which cannot be overlooked is that a book of a decidedly immoral
tendency was composed and published under her name. Her most
sincere admirers would hail with gratification any satisfactory
evidence that the Heptameron was written by another hand.
Unfortunately, there seems to be none. On the contrary, we have
Brantome's direct testimony to the effect that the composition of
the book was the employment of the queen's idle hours when
travelling about in her litter, and that his grandmother, being one
of Margaret's ladies of honor, was accustomed to take charge of her
writing-case (Ed. Lalanne, viii. 126). Equally untenable is the
view taken by the historian De Thou (liv. vi., vol. x. 508), who
makes the fault more venial by representing the Heptameron to have
been composed by the fair author in her youth. (So, too, Soldan, i.
89.) I am sorry to have to say that the events referred to in the
stories themselves belong to a period reaching within a year or two
of Margaret's death.
The facts, then, are simply these: The tales of Boccaccio's
Decameron were read with great delight by Margaret, by Francis the
First, and by his children. They resolved, therefore, to imitate
the great Italian novelist by committing to writing the most
remarkable incidents supplied by the gossip of the court (see the
Prologue to the Heptameron). Francis and his children, finding that
Margaret greatly excelled in this species of composition, soon
renounced the unequal strife, but encouraged her to pursue an
undertaking promising to afford them much amusement. Apportioning,
after the example of Boccaccio, a decade of stories, illustrative
of some single topic, to each day's entertainment, the Queen of
Navarre had reached the seventh day, when the death of her
brother, the near approach of her own end, and disgust with so
frivolous an occupation, induced her to suspend her labors. The
Heptameron, as the interrupted work was now called, was not
apparently intended for publication, but was, after Margaret's
death, printed under the auspices of her daughter, the celebrated
Jeanne d'Albret.
As to the stories themselves, they treat of adventures, in great
part amorous and often immodest. In this particular they are
scarcely less objectionable than those of Boccaccio. They differ
from the latter in the circumstance that the author's avowed
purpose is to insert none but actual occurrences. They are
distinguished from them more especially by the attempt uniformly
made to extract a wholesome lesson from every incident. The
prevalent vices of the day are portrayed--with too much minuteness
of detail, indeed, but only that they may be held up to the greater
condemnation. It is particularly the monks of various orders who,
for their flagrant crimes against morality, are made the object of
biting sarcasm. The abominable teachings of these professed
instructors of religion are justly reprobated. For example, in the
Forty-fourth Nouvelle, Parlamente, while admitting that some
Franciscans preach a pure doctrine, affirms that "_the streets are
not paved with such, so much as marked by their opposites_;" and
she relates the attempt of one of their prominent men, a doctor of
theology, to convince some members of his own fraternity that the
Gospel is entitled to no more credit than Caesar's Commentaries.
"From the hour I heard him," she adds, "I have refused to believe
the words of any preacher unless I find them in agreement with
God's Word, _which is the true touchstone_ to ascertain what words
are true and what false" (Ed. Soc. des bibliophiles, ii. 382-384).
Modern French _litterateurs_ have not failed to eulogize the author
as frequently rivalling her model in dramatic vividness of
narration. At the same time they take exception to the numerous
passages wherein she "preaches," as detracting from the artistic
merit of her work. It is, however, precisely the feature here
referred to that constitutes, in the eyes of reflecting readers,
the chief, if not the sole, redeeming trait of the Heptameron. As a
favorable example, illustrating the nature of the pious words and
exhortations thrown in so incongruously with stories of the most
objectionable kind, I translate a few sentences from the Prologue,
in which Oisile (the pseudonym for Margaret herself) speaks: "If
you ask me what receipt I have that keeps me so joyful and in such
good health in my old age, it is this--that as soon as I rise I
take and read the Holy Scriptures. Contemplating there the goodness
of God, who sent His Son to earth to announce the glad tidings of
the remission of all sins by the gift of His love, passion, and
merits, the consideration causes me such joy that I take my psalter
and sing in my heart as humbly as I can, while repeating with my
lips those beautiful psalms and hymns which the Holy Ghost composed
in the heart of David and other authors; and the satisfaction I
derive from this does me so much good that all the ills that may
befall me through the day appear to me to be blessings, seeing that
I bear in my heart Him who bore them for me. In like manner, before
I sup, I withdraw to give sustenance to my soul in reading, and
then at night I recall all I have done during the past day, in
order to ask for the pardon of my faults and thank God for His
gifts. Then in His love, fear and peace I take my rest, assured
from every ill. Wherefore, my children, here is the pastime upon
which I settled long since, after having in vain sought contentment
of spirit in all the rest.... For he that knows God sees everything
beautiful in Him, and without Him everything unattractive."
Prologue, 13-15.
If any one object that no quantity of pious reflections can
compensate for the positive evil in the Heptameron, I can but
acquiesce in his view, and concede that M. Genin has been much too
lenient in his estimate of Margaret's fault. It is a riddle which I
leave to the reader to solve, that a princess of unblemished
private life, of studious habits, and of not only a serious, but
even a positively religious turn of mind--in short, in every way a
noble pattern for one of the most corrupt courts Europe has ever
seen--should, in a work aiming to inculcate morality, and
abundantly furnished with direct religious exhortation, have
inserted, not _one_, but a _score_ of the most repulsive pictures
of vice, drawn from the impure scandal of that court.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 212: He was born at Cognac, Sept. 12, 1494.]
[Footnote 213: See the fac-simile in the magnificent work of M. Niel,
Portraits des personnages francais les plus illustres du 16me siecle,
Paris, 1848, 2 vols. fol.]
[Footnote 214: The envoy's description of Francis's curative power is
interesting. "Ha una proprieta, _o vero dono da Dio_, come han tutti li
re di Francia, di far guarire li amalati di scrofule.... E questo lo fa
in giorno solenne, come Pasqua, Natale e Nostra Donna. Si confessa e
communica; dipoi _tocca li amalati in croce al volto, dicendo: 'Il Re ti
tocca, e Iddio ti guarisca_!'" Cavalli thinks there can be no doubt of
the reality of the cures effected; otherwise, why should continually
increasing numbers of sick folk come from the most distant countries, if
they received no benefit? Relazioni Venete (Alberi), ser. i., i. 237. It
must not be imagined, however, that the kings of France engrossed all
virtue of this kind. The monarchs of England were wont to hallow on Good
Friday certain rings which thenceforth guaranteed the wearer against
epilepsy. These _cramp-rings_, as they were called, were no less in
demand abroad than at home. Sir John Mason wrote from Brussels, April
25, 1555, that many persons had expressed the desire to obtain them, and
begged Sir W. Petrie to interest himself in procuring him some of this
year's blessing by Queen Mary. MSS. State Paper Office.]
[Footnote 215: The small size of the brain and the depression of the
forehead indicated in all the different contemporary portraits of
Francis have been noticed by M. Niel (Portraits, i. 10), who dryly adds
that in view of them he might have been inclined to withhold the
eulogies he has inserted in his notice of the monarch, "had he not
recollected in time that the laws of phrenology are not infallible."]
[Footnote 216: Robertson, Charles V., iii. 396.]
[Footnote 217: Relazione di Francia (1538), Alberi, i. 203, 204. It will
be noticed that Giustiniano wrote at a period when the youthful ardor of
Francis had somewhat cooled down.]
[Footnote 218: The French king's proverbial ill-success gave rise to the
taunt that his was "un esser savio in bocca e non in mente," but Marino
Cavalli is charitably inclined to ascribe his misfortune rather to the
lack of the right men to execute his designs, than to any fault of his
own. Rel. des Amb. Ven., Tommaseo, i. 282.]
[Footnote 219: "Sire, vous en seriez marri le premier, et vous en
prendroit tres mal, et y perdriez plus que le pape; car une nouvelle
religion, mise parmi un peuple, ne demande apres que changement du
prince." Brantome, M. l'Admiral de Chastillon, Oeuvres, ix. 202.]
[Footnote 220: Brantome, Femmes illustres: Marguerite, reine de Navarre.
Also Homines ill.: Francois premier (Oeuvres, vii. 256, 257).]
[Footnote 221: The Bulletin de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot. franc., v.
380, 381, publishes from a MS. in the library of the Louvre, an order
from Francis I., countersigned by Bayard, directing his treasurer to pay
to "Cecille de Viefville, _dame des filles de joye suivans nostre
court_," the sum of forty-five livres tournois. This gift is to be
shared with "_les autres femmes de sa voccation_," as she and they shall
see fit, and to be received as "a New-Year's present for the first of
January past, such as it has been customary from all time to make." The
last clause may have been inserted for the purpose of palliating the
disgraceful usage. This precious document is followed by Cecile's
receipt, dated, like the order, Hesdin, February 18, 1539 (1540 New
Style).]
[Footnote 222: Ch. de Sainte-Marthe, Oraison funebre, 1550, _apud_
Genin, i. 3.]
[Footnote 223:
_Une doulceur_ assise en belle face,
_Qui la beaulte des plus belles efface_;
D'un regard chaste ou n'habite nul vice;
. . . . . . . .
Tons ces beaulx dons et mille davantaige
Sont en ung corps ne de hault parentaige,
Et de grandeur tant droicte et bien formee,
Que faicte semble expres pour estre aymee
D'hommes et dieux.
--Ined. Epistle of Marot to Margaret, prefixed to Genin, Notice, xiii.,
xiv. One of the two crayons of Margaret by contemporary artists,
reproduced by Niel, Portraits des personnages illustres, etc., tome ii.,
was taken in early life; the other represents her as wearing the sombre
dress she preferred in her last years.]
[Footnote 224: Vie politique de Marg. d' Angouleme, by Leroux de Lincy,
prefixed to the Heptameron (Ed. of the Soc. des bibliophiles), i. p.
lxiv.]
[Footnote 225: "La serenissima regina di Navarra ... e donna di molto
valore, e spirito grande, e che intervienne in tutti i consigli." Relaz.
di Francesco Giustiniano, 1538, Alberi, i. 203.]
[Footnote 226: The document contained a proviso that, should Francis be
liberated, the Dauphin was to restore to him the sovereignty for the
term of his natural life. It was dated Madrid, November, 1525. Isambert,
Recueil des anciennes lois, etc., xii. 237-244.]
[Footnote 227: "Le mercredy _penultiesme jour de janvier_, au dict an,
ils furent espousez an diet lieu de _Saint Germain_ (_en Laye_). Apres
furent faictes _jouxtes et tournois et gros triomphes_ par l'espace de
huict jours ou environ." Journal d'un bourgeois, 302. Olhagaray states
the date differently, viz., January 24th; _ubi infra_, 488.]
[Footnote 228: See Olhagaray, Histoire de Foix, Bearn, et Navarre
(Paris, 1609), 487.]
[Footnote 229: He was born April, 1503, and was consequently eleven
years younger than Margaret.]
[Footnote 230: Catharine's bitter reproach addressed to her husband has
become famous: "Had I been king, and you queen, we had been reigning in
Navarre at this moment." Prescott, Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, iii.
353. Olhagaray gives another of her speeches: "O Roy vous demeures Jean
d'Albret, et ne penses plus au Royaume de Navarre que vous avez perdu
par vostre nonchalance." _Ubi supra_, 455.]
[Footnote 231: The Spanish conquest of Navarre is narrated at length by
Prescott, Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, iii. 347-367. See also
Olhagaray, 454, etc., and Moncaut, Histoire des Pyrenees, iv. 233-271.
It will be borne in mind that the great crime of John d'Albret was his
adhesion to Louis XII. of France, in his determined struggle with Julius
II.; and that Ferdinand's title was justified by a pretended bull of
this Pope giving the kingdoms of his enemies to be a prey to the first
invader that might seize them in behalf of the Pontifical See. The bull,
however, is now generally admitted to be a Spanish forgery. See
Prescott, _ubi supra_. Baron A. de Ruble observes (Mem. de La Huguerye,
1, note): "On sait aujourd'hui que cette bulle est apocryphe."]
[Footnote 232: Brantome does, indeed, accuse Henry of using severity
toward his wife, on account of her religious innovations, until
threatened with the displeasure of Francis; but the truth seems to be
that the King of Navarre was himself not ill-disposed to the religious
reformation.]
[Footnote 233: M. Herminjard has been criticised for inserting too many
of Bishop Briconnet's epistles in the first volume of his Correspondance
des reformateurs dans les pays de langue francaise. M. Genin also gives
specimens of the bishop's bombast, observing maliciously: "Si Briconnet
argumenta en pareil style aux conciles de Pise et du Latran, il dut
embarrasser beaucoup ses adversaires." Lettres de Marg. d'Angouleme, i.
128.]
[Footnote 234: "O impiam et inverecundam arrogantiam," etc. See chapter
I., p. 24.]
[Footnote 235: Determinatio Facultatis, etc., Gerdes., iv. (Doc.) 10,
etc.; Bretschneider, Corpus Reformatorum (Opera Melanchthonis), i. 366,
etc., 371, etc.]
[Footnote 236: Adversus furiosum Parisiensium theologastrorum decretum
Philippi Melanchthonis pro Luthero apologia, Bretschneider, i. 399-416.]
[Footnote 237: Lettre de la faculte de theologie a la reine, Oct. 7,
1523, Gerdes., iv. (Doc.) 16, 17.]
[Footnote 238: Articules concernans les responces que apres meure
deliberation a fait la faculte de theologie. Gerdes., iv. (Doc.) 17-21.]
[Footnote 239: "Qui [les livres de Luther] furent imprimez et publiez
par toutes les villes d'Alemaigne et par tout le royaume de France."
Journal d'un bourgeois de Paris, 94.]
[Footnote 240: Ibid., 104.]
[Footnote 241: "Ego confidenter loquar, credens in Domino quod verum
sit, quod plus syncerioris theologiae in libris praedictis continetur,
quam in omnibus scriptis omnium monachorum, qui a principio fuerunt."]
[Footnote 242: A contemporary song (1525) denouncing woes against
Strasbourg for harboring the "Lutherans," contains these doggerel lines:
"Ce faulx Lambert, heretique mauldict,
Te fait prendre la dance
De l'infemal deduyt."
Bulletin de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot. franc., ix. (1860) 381.]
[Footnote 243: Margaret of Angouleme, out of all patience, at last sent
word requesting him to desist from these untimely letters to her
brother--"qu'il n'escripva plus ny au Roy ny a aultres." Toussain to
Farel, December 17, 1524, Herminjard, i. 313.]
[Footnote 244: Witness the malignant satisfaction exhibited by the
Nuncio Aleander when noting the reported death of Lambert and his entire
family: "Mi ha detto hoggi, che Francesco Lamberto d'Avignon, qual
fugito dal monasterio, et ito astar un tempo con Luther ha scritto
infiniti libri contra la Chiesa di Dio, quest' anno in terra del
Langravio di Hassia insieme con la moglie et figliuoli tutti
miserabilmente, et come da miracolo, in gran calamita _son crepati_."
Aleander to Sanga, Brussels, November 25, 1531, Vatican Library,
Laemmer, Monumenta, 90. See Lambert's autobiographical sketch, entitled:
"Rationes propter quas Minoritarum conversationem habitumque rejecit,"
Gerdes., iv. (Doc.) 21-28, and translated, Herminjard, i. 118, etc.; F.
W. Hassencamp, Fr. Lambert von Avignon; Haag, France prot., s. v.; Baum,
Lambert von Avignon.]
[Footnote 245: So says Lambert, who states: "Novi ilium ex intimis; fuit
enim mihi perinde atque Jonathas Davidi." Praef. ad Comm. in Hoseam,
Gerdes., Scrinium antiquarium, vi. 490.]
[Footnote 246: The Bishop of Metz was _John_, Cardinal of Lorraine,
uncle of the more notorious Cardinal _Charles_. Chatellain had written a
poetical chronicle of Metz reaching to the year 1524. A friendly hand
continued it, and recorded the fate of Chatellain, described as
"Augustin, grand Docteur
Qui estoit grand predicateur."
The chronicle, which certainly possesses no striking literary merit, is
printed among the _Preuves_ of Dom Calmet, Histoire de Lorraine (Nancy,
1748), iii. pp. cclxxii., etc.]
[Footnote 247: Crespin, Actiones et Monimenta (Geneva, 1560), fol.
44-46.]
[Footnote 248: "Quorum (Antichristi prophetae) faex in eadem civitate tam
multa est, ut eosdem nongentos esse ferant." Lamberti praef. ad Comm. in
Hoseam, Gerdes., Scrinium Antiq., vi. 485, etc.]
[Footnote 249: Ibid., _ubi supra_.]
[Footnote 250: Hist. de l'eglise gallicane, _apud_ Gaillard, vi. 404.]
[Footnote 251: The letter is given by Crespin, Actiones et Monimenta,
fol. 50; also Gerdes., iv. (Doc), 48-50.]
[Footnote 252: Gerdes., iv. 51; Crespin, fol. 49-52; Haag, s. v.]
[Footnote 253: The incident, it must be confessed, is by no means above
suspicion (see Kirchhofer, Life of Wm. Farel, London ed., p. 40, and
Schmidt, Wilhelm Farel, p. 6), although, as Merle d'Aubigne observes,
Hist. of the Reformation, bk. xii. c. 13, it is in keeping with Farel's
character. Oecolampadius, foreseeing the possibility of his indulging
in such inconsiderate words and actions, warned him, as early as Aug.
19, 1524, to temper his zeal with mildness, and to treat his opponents
rather as was most expedient, than as they deserved to be treated.
Herminjard, i. 265-267.]
[Footnote 254: "Ceste heresie lutherienne, _qui commance fort a pulluler
par deca. Et jam plures de cineribus valde (Valdo) renascuntur
plantulae_." Council of the Archbishop of Lyons to Noel Beda, January 23,
1525. The title of primate was assumed both by the Archbishop of Sens
and the Archbishop of Lyons, the former having apparently the better
claim and enjoying nominally a Wider supremacy (as "Primat des Gaules et
de Germanie"); but the latter gradually vindicated his pretension to
spiritual authority over most of France. See Encyclopedie methodique, s.
v. Sens, and Lyon.]
[Footnote 255: Gaillard, Hist. de Francois premier, vi. 408.]