Читать книгу History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin (Vol. 1-8) - J. H. Merle D'Aubigné - Страница 100

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=THE PROVOST'S WIFE.=

CALVIN, as it will be remembered, had studied and evangelised at Orleans, and his teaching had left deep traces, particularly among the students and with certain ladies of quality. The wife of the city provost seems to have been one of the souls converted by the ministry of the young reformer. The narrative he has devoted to her, the full details into which he enters, show the interest he took in her conversion.649 This woman, who occupied a distinguished rank in the city, had found peace for her soul in faith in Christ; she had believed in the promises of the Word which Calvin had explained; she had felt keenly the nothingness of Roman pomps and superstitions; the grace of God was sufficient for her; and caring little for outward adorning, she strove after that which is not corruptible, the ornament of the women who trusted in God. 'She is a Lutheran,' said some; 'she belongs to those who have listened to the teaching of Luther's disciples.' Her husband the provost, a person of influence, a great landowner, an esteemed magistrate, a man of upright, prompt, and energetic character, was touched by the purity of his wife's conduct, and, without being converted to the Gospel, had become disgusted with the Roman superstitions, and despised the monks.

The provostess (to adopt the language of the manuscripts) fell ill, sent for a lawyer, and dictated her will to him. Lying on a bed of sickness, which she was never to leave again, full of a living faith in Christ, she felt certain of going to her Saviour, and experienced an insurmountable repugnance to the performance over her grave of any of the superstitious ceremonies for which devout women have ordinarily such a strong liking. Accordingly, while the notary, pen in hand, was waiting the dictation of her last will, she said: 'I forbid all bell-ringing and chanting at my funeral, and no monks or priests shall be present with their tapers. I desire to be buried without pomp and without torches.' The lawyer was rather surprised, but he wrote down the words; and her husband, who remained near her and knew her faith, promised that her wishes should be kept sacred. When she died, the mortal remains of this pious woman were laid in the tomb of her father and grandfather, with no other accompaniment than the tears of all who had known her, and the prayers of the children of God who formed the little evangelical flock of Orleans.

=THE PROVOST AND THE MONKS.=

When the ceremony was over, the provost proceeded to the convent of the Franciscans, in whose cemetery the burial had taken place. He was a liberal man, and, though despising the monks, did not wish to do them wrong, even in appearance. The friars, already much irritated, did not understand what the magistrate wanted with them, and received him very coldly. 'As you were not called upon to do duty,' he told them, 'here are six gold crowns by way of compensation.' The monks, who had reckoned on the death of this lady as a great windfall, were by no means satisfied with the six gold pieces; and, even while taking them, looked sulkily at the widower, and swore to be revenged.

Not long after this, the provost having determined upon cutting down a wood he possessed near Orleans, was giving directions to his workmen, when two monks, following the narrow lanes running through the forest, arrived at the spot where the owner and the woodmen were at work, boldly addressed the former, and demanded in the name of the convent permission to send their waggon once a day during the felling to lay up their store. 'What!' answered the provost, whom the avarice of the monks had always disgusted, 'a waggon a day! Send thirty, my reverend fathers, but (of course) with ready money. All that I want, I assure you, is good speed and good money.'650

The two cordeliers returned abashed and vexed, and carried the answer to their superiors. This was too much: two affronts one after the other! The monks consulted together; they desired to be revenged by any means; such heresies, if they were tolerated, would be the ruin of the convents. They deliberated on the best manner of giving a striking lesson to the provost and to all who might be tempted to follow the example of his wife. 'These gentlemen, to be revenged, proceeded to devise a fraud,' says Calvin. Two monks particularly distinguished themselves among the speakers: brother Coliman, provincial and exorcist of great reputation among the grey friars, and brother Stephen of Arras, 'esteemed a great preacher.' These two doctors, wishing to teach the city that monks are not to be offended with impunity, invented a 'tragedy,' which, they thought, would everywhere excite a horror of Lutheranism.

Brother Stephen undertook to begin the drama: he shut himself up in his cell and composed, in a style of the most vulgar eloquence, a sermon which he fancied would terrify everybody. The news of a homily from the great preacher circulated through the city, and when the day arrived, he went up into the pulpit and delivered before a large congregation (for the church was crammed) a 'very touching' discourse, in which he pathetically described the sufferings of the souls in purgatory.... 'You know it,' he exclaimed, 'you know it. The unhappy spirits, tormented by the fire, escape; they return after death, sometimes with great tumult, and pray that some consolation may be given them. Luther, indeed, asserts that there is no purgatory.... What horror! what abominable impiety!' 'The friar forgot nothing,' says Beza, 'to convince his audience that spirits return from purgatory.' The congregation dispersed in great excitement; and after that the least noise at night frightened the devout. The way being thus prepared, the impudent monks arranged among themselves the horrible drama which was to avenge them on the provost and his wife.

=THE APPARITION IN THE CONVENT.=

On the following night the monks rose at the usual hour and entered the church, carrying their antiphonaires or anthem-books in their hands. They began to chant; their hoarse voices were intoning matins ... when suddenly a frightful tumult was heard, coming from heaven as it seemed, or at least from the ceiling of the church. On hearing this 'great uproar,' the chanting ceased, the monks appeared horrified, and Coliman, the bravest, moved forward, armed with all the weapons of an exorcist, and conjured the evil spirit; but the spirit said not a word. 'What wantest thou?' asked Coliman. There was no answer. 'If thou art dumb,' resumed the exorcist, 'show it us by some sign.' Upon this the spirit made another uproar. The hearers, not in the secret, were terror-stricken. 'All is going on well,' said Coliman, Stephen, and their accomplices; 'now let us circulate the news through Orleans.' The next day the friars visited some of the most considerable personages of the city who were among the number of their devotees. 'A misfortune has happened to us,' they said, without mentioning what it was; 'will you come to our help and be present at our matins?'

These worthy citizens, anxious to know what was the matter, did not go to bed, and went to the convent at midnight. The monks had already assembled in the church to chant their collects, anthems, and litanies; they provided good places for the devout laymen, and with trembling voices began to intone:

Domine! labia...

The words had hardly been uttered, when a frightful noise interrupted the chanting. 'The ghost! the ghost!' exclaimed the terrified monks. Then Coliman, who had 'the usual equipment when he wished to speak to the devil,' came forward, and, playing his part admirably, said, 'Who art thou?'—Silence.—'What dost thou want?'—Silence.—'Art thou dumb?'—Silence.—'If thou art not permitted to speak,' said Coliman, 'answer my questions by signs.... For Yes, give two knocks; and three for No. Now, tell me ... art thou not the ghost of a person buried here?' The ghost began to knock Yes. Then resumed Coliman: 'Art thou the ghost of such a one, or such a one?' naming in succession many of those who were buried in the church; but to each question the ghost answered No. After a long circuit, the exorcist came at last to the point he desired: 'Art thou the ghost of the provostess?' The spirit replied with a loud Yes. The mystery seemed about to be cleared up: a new act of the comedy began. 'Spirit, for what sin hast thou been condemned?' asked the exorcist: 'Is it for pride?'—No! 'Is it for unchastity?'—No! Coliman, after running through all the sins enumerated in Scripture, bethought himself at last, and said: 'Art thou condemned for having been a Lutheran?' Two knocks answered Yes, and all the monks crossed themselves in alarm. 'Now tell us,' continued the exorcist, 'why thou makest such an uproar in the middle of the night? Is it for thy body to be exhumed?'—Yes! There could no longer be any doubt about it: the provostess was suffering for her Lutheranism. The report had been prepared beforehand, but a few witnesses refused to sign it, suspecting some trick. The provincial concealed his vexation, and wishing to excite their imaginations still more strongly, he exclaimed: 'The place is profaned; let us leave it ... as the papal canons command.' Forthwith one of the monks caught up the pyx containing the corpus Domini; another seized the chalice; others took the relics of the saints and 'the rest of their tools;'651 and all fled into the chapter-room, where divine service was thenceforward celebrated.

=INQUEST ON THE SPIRIT.=

The news of this affair soon reached the ears of the bishop's official, and there was much talk about it at the palace. The Franciscans were pretty well known there. 'There is some monkish trick at the bottom,' said the official, an estimable and upright clergyman. He could not conceal his disgust at this cheat of the friars. He thought that these impetuous cordeliers would compromise, and perhaps ruin the cause of religion, instead of advancing it, by their pretended miracles. It was to be one of the peculiarities of protestantism to unveil the cunning, avarice, and hypocrisy of the priests, the workers of miracles. Extraordinary acts of the divine power were manifested at the time of the creation of the Church, as at the time when the heavens and the earth were first made by the Word of God. Is not all creation a miracle? But the Reformation turned away with disgust from the tricks and cheats of the Roman mountebanks, who presumed to ape the power of God. There were even in the Catholic Church men of good sense who shared this opinion. Of this number was the official of Orleans, the man who filled the place which some had destined for Calvin.

He took with him a few honest people, and went to the grey friars' church to inquire more particularly into the fact. He called the monks together: brother Coliman gravely told the whole story, and the official, after hearing their tales, said: 'Well, my brethren, I now order these conjurations to be performed in my presence.—You, gentlemen,' he said to some of his party, 'will mount to the roof and see if any ghost appears.'—'Do nothing of the kind,' exclaimed friar Stephen of Arras, in great alarm; 'you will disturb the spirit!' The official insisted that the conjuration should be performed; but it was not possible; the exorcist and the ghost both remained dumb. The episcopal judge withdrew, confirmed in his views. 'Here's a ghost that appears only to the monks,' he said to his companions; 'it is frightened at the official.' This affair, which made some tremble and others smile, soon became known throughout the city; the news reached the dark and winding streets where the students lived: one told it to another, and all hurried off to the university. Everything was in commotion there: some were for the monks, the majority against them. 'Let us go and see,' exclaimed this young France. Off they started, and arriving in a large body, says Calvin, soon filled the church. They raised their heads, they fixed their eyes on the roof that had become so celebrated; but they waited in vain, it uttered no sound. 'Pshaw!' said they, 'it is a plot the friars have wickedly contrived to be revenged of the provost and his wife. We will find out all about it.' These curious and rather frolicsome youths rushed to the roof in search of the ghost; they looked for it in every corner, they called it, but the phantom was determined to be neither seen nor heard, and the students returned to the university, joking as they went.

=THE PROVOST APPEALS TO THE KING.=

There was one person, however, in Orleans who did not joke: it was the provost. Irritated at the insult offered to his wife, he had recourse to the law: a written summons was left at the convent, but the monks refused to put in an answer, pleading the immunities they enjoyed in their ecclesiastical quality. The provost, true to his character, was not willing to lose this opportunity of giving the friars a severe lesson. 'What!' he exclaimed, 'shall these wretches make her, who rests at peace in the grave, the talk of the whole city? If she had been accused in her lifetime, I would have defended her, much more will I do so after her death!' He determined to lay the matter before the king, and set out for Paris.

The story of the ghost who appeared with a great noise in a convent at Orleans, had already reached the capital, and been repeated at court. The monks, in general, were not in high favour there. The courtiers called to mind the words of the king's mother, who thanked God for having taught her son and herself to know 'those hypocrites, white, grey, black, and of all colours.' Du Bellay especially and his friends gladly welcomed a story which set in bold relief the vices of the old system and the necessity of a reform. As soon as the provost reached the capital, he had an audience of the king. Francis, who was not famed for his conjugal affections, could not understand the emotion of the widower; but despising the monks at least as much as his mother and sister did, and delighted to put in practice the new reforming ideas which were growing in his mind, he resolved to seize the opportunity of humbling the insolence of the convents. He granted all the provost asked; he nominated councillors of parliament to investigate the matter; and as the cordeliers pleaded their immunities, Duprat, in his quality of legate, gave, by papal authority, power to the commissioners to proceed.

The day when the royal agents arrived at Orleans was a day of sorrow to one part of the inhabitants of that city, but of joy to the greater number. People looked with astonishment on these gentlemen from Paris, who would be stronger than the monks, and would punish them for their long tyranny. A crowd followed them to the convent, and when they had entered, waited until they came out again. Oh! how every one of them would have liked to see what was going on within those gloomy walls! The officers of the parliament spoke to the monks with authority, exhibited their powers, and arrested the principal culprits, to the great consternation of all the other monks. Some wretched carts stood at the gate of the monastery; the archers brought out the insolent friars; and the crowd, to its unutterable amazement, saw them mount like vulgar criminals into these poor vehicles, which the maréchaussée was preparing to escort. What inexpressible disgrace for the disciples of St. Francis!

=THE MONKS TAKEN TO PARIS.=

The news of the arrest had spread to all the sacristies, parsonages, and convents of the city, and a cry of persecution arose everywhere. At the moment of departure, a bigoted and excited crowd collected round the carts in which sat the reverend fathers, quite out of countenance at their misfortune. These people, some of whom no doubt were fanatics, but amongst whom were many who felt a sincere affection for the monks, wept bitterly; they uttered loud lamentations, and put money into the friars' hands, 'as much to make good cheer with,' says Calvin, 'as to help in their defence.'652 But in the midst of this dejected crowd might be observed some citizens and jeering students, who exclaimed: 'Fine champions, indeed, to oppose the Gospel!' Certain sayings of Luther had crossed the Rhine, and were circulating among the youths of the schools: 'Who made the monks?' asked one. 'The devil,' answered another. 'God having created the priests, the devil (as is always the case) wished to imitate him, but in his bungling he made the crown of the head too large, and instead of a priest he turned out a monk.'653 Such was the exodus of the reverend fathers: they arrived in Paris, and there they were separated and confined in different places, in order that they might not confer with one another.

The deception was manifest, but it was impossible to obtain a confession. The monks had sworn to keep profound silence, in order to preserve the honour of their order and of religion, and also to save themselves. They called to mind what had happened in the Dominican convent at Berne in 1500: how a soul had appeared there in order to be delivered from purgatory; how the five wounds of St. Francis had been marked on a poor novice; and how, at the request of the papal legate, four of the guilty monks had been burnt alive.654 Might not the same punishment be inflicted on a monk of Orleans? They trembled at the very thought. In vain, therefore, did the councillors of parliament begin their inquiry; in vain did they go from one house to another, and enter the rooms where these reverend fathers were confined: the monks were sullen, unfathomable, and more silent than the ghost itself.

The judges determined to try what they could with the novice who had acted the part of the ghost; but if the monks were silent, sullen, and immovable, the novice was agitated and frightened out of his senses. The friars had uttered the most terrible threats; and hence, when he was interrogated, 'he held firm,' says the Geneva manuscript, 'fearing, if he spoke, that the cordeliers would kill him.' The judges then reminded him of the power of the parliament and the protection of the king. 'You shall never return into the hands of the monks,' they told him. At these words the poor young fellow began to breathe; he recovered from his great fright; his tongue was loosened, and he 'explained the whole affair to the judges,' says Beza. 'I made a hole in the roof,' he said, 'to which I applied my ear, to hear what the provincial said to me from below. Then I struck a plank which I held in my hand, and I hit it hard enough for the noise to be heard by the reverend fathers underneath. That was all the fun,' he added.

=THEIR CONDEMNATION.=

The friars were then confronted with the novice, who stoutly maintained the cheat got up by them. They were both indignant and alarmed at seeing this pitiful varlet turning against their reverences; but as it was now impossible to deny the fact, they began to protest against their judges, and to plead their privileges once more. They were condemned; the indignation was general, the king especially being greatly irritated. All his life long he looked upon the monks, black or white, as his personal enemies. Besides, the hatred he felt against that lazy and ignorant herd was, he thought, one of his attributes as the Father of Letters. His anger broke out in the midst of his court: 'I will pull down their convent!' he exclaimed, 'and build in its place a palace for the duke!' (that is, for the Duke of Orleans, Catherine's husband). All the councillors of parliament, both lay and clerical, were assembled. The haughty Coliman, the eloquent brother Stephen, and their accomplices were forced to stand at the bar, and sentence was solemnly delivered. They were to be taken to the Chatelet prison at Orleans; there they would be stripped of their frocks, be led into the cathedral, and then, set on a platform with tapers in their hands, they were to confess 'that, with certain fraud and deliberate malice, they had plotted such wickedness.' Thence they were to be taken to their convent, and afterwards to the place of public execution, where they would again confess their crime.

This promised the idlers of Orleans a still more extraordinary spectacle than that given them when the friars got into their carts. Every day they expected to see the sentence carried out; but the government feared to appear too favourable to the Lutherans. The matter was protracted; some of the monks died in prison; the others were suffered to escape; and thus ended an affair which characterises the epoch, and shows the weapons that a good many priests used against the Reformation. If the sentence was never executed, the moral influence of the story was immense, and we shall presently see some of its effects.

649 Calvin's manuscript narrative, recently discovered in the Geneva library by Dr. J. Bonnet, has been printed in the Bulletin de l'Histoire du Protestantisme Français, iii. p. 33.

650 This affair is mentioned by Sleidan and Theodore Beza, both of whom appear to have seen Calvin's narrative.

651 Calvin, Hist. de l'Esprit des Cordeliers d'Orléans. Geneva MS. (Bulletin de l'Histoire du Protestantisme Français, iii.) Beza, Hist. Eccles. p. 11. Sleidan, i. p. 361.

652 Calvin's MS. Bulletin de l'Hist. du Prot. Fran. iii. p. 36.

653 Lutheri Opp. xxii. p. 1463.

654 History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century, vol. ii. bk. viii. ch. ii.