Читать книгу History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin (Vol. 1-8) - J. H. Merle D'Aubigné - Страница 35

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A Striking sight was that presented by the city founded by the Zœhringens. Strange men were wandering round the old cathedral and on the steep and picturesque banks of the Sarine. The people of Friburg looked at them with respect, for they knew that these citizens, the victims of the tyranny of a foreign power, had come to seek an asylum within their walls. They went to the windows to see them pass, and approached them with cordial affection. The Friburgers wished to hear them, and Besançon Hugues, accompanied by a number of the fugitives, was introduced into the council-hall. They gave him a seat on the right of the avoyer, which was the place of honour, and the sitting being opened, the Genevan rose and said: ‘Most honoured lords, there is a town situated at the natural limits of Switzerland—a town entirely devoted to you, where you can come and go just as at home, where you can bargain, sell, and buy whatever you require, and which would be able to stop your enemies, if ever the League should be attacked from the south. This town, the complement of Helvetia, ought to be allied to the cantons. Did not the Swiss in the time of Cæsar extend as far as L’Ecluse?372 ... If Geneva should fall into the hands of Savoy, the cannon that ought to defend you will be turned against you.... Gentlemen, time presses, the fatal moment is at hand.... Long, unjust, and violent persecutions have placed our liberties on the brink of the abyss. The heroic Berthelier murdered at the foot of Cæsar’s tower; the wise Lévrier beheaded in the castle yard of Bonne; Malbuisson, Chabod, and many others recently flung into gloomy dungeons; all our friends remaining at Geneva in danger of losing their lives ... and we, most honoured lords, who are before you, obliged to abandon our property, our business, our families, our country, that we may not fall into the hands of a prince who has sworn our death: to such a state is our free and ancient city reduced.... One thing alone can save it ... the strong hand of the Swiss League.... Most honoured lords, hear our cries, behold our tears, and have compassion on our misery. For God’s honour, give us aid and counsel.’

The fugitives who stood around Hugues—Lullin, Girard, the two Bauds, Bandière, Sept, Pécolat, and about twelve other citizens—were deeply moved. These men, men of great energy, appeared as suppliants before the senate of Friburg. Their countenance, their words, entreated this powerful city, and yet a noble pride was visible in their looks. They felt at once their independence and their misery; they had the air of dethroned kings. Some wrung their hands, others shed tears; all prayed with tones of sorrow that the Swiss would come to their assistance. The Friburgers, touched with pity for Geneva and its exiles, and filled with indignation against Charles and his partisans, replied: ‘No, we will not desert you.’ Words full of kindness, which consoled men overwhelmed with sorrows, and shed a ray of light upon their gloomy path!

The moment was favourable for gaining the Swiss: they were exasperated at seeing Savoy, after the battle of Pavia, basely embrace the cause of the conqueror. In going to the support of Geneva, Switzerland the faithful would give a wholesome lesson to that power which always took the strongest side. Friburg immediately despatched deputies to Berne and Soleure, and some of the fugitives accompanied them. In these two cities the unfortunate Genevans renewed their touching supplications. At Berne, says a chronicler, ‘they found a bad beginning but a good end;’ at Soleure, the contrary, ‘a good beginning but a bad end.’ Soleure, however, joined the two other cities in notifying to the duke, that if he valued their friendship he must cease injuring Geneva. But Berne in particular showed great zeal. There were already in that city a number of devoted friends of Zwingle and the Reformation; among others one of the chief magistrates, Thomas ab Hofen, an intelligent and moderate man, of a temper inclined to melancholy, much employed in the public business of his country, and who for two years had been corresponding with the reformer of Zurich. These evangelical Bernese soon perceived that there was a hidden but real relationship between the reformation of Zurich and the emancipation of Geneva; and they influenced their countrymen in favour of the Genevans. At the same time they spoke of the Gospel to the fugitives, and some of those men who had come to Switzerland in search of liberty only, found the truth. This movement of the powerful republic towards Geneva preluded new times. Savoy had desired to crush that liberty which was of such old standing in Geneva, and the Reformation which was soon to begin; but, by the wonderful providence of God, the blow intended to kill both secured their existence and gave them a wider development. The word of the reformers, well received by the Bernese people, was to arrive even at Geneva, and that city would thus, by God’s counsel, receive from Switzerland not only national independence, but blessings that extend far beyond the destinies of nations.373

Meanwhile the duke had been told of the departure of the fugitives: just as he was going to lay his hand upon the nest, the birds disappeared. Charles and his counsellors were staggered. These energetic citizens would in truth be no longer in Geneva to combat his designs; but it would have been surer, he thought, to put them out of the way either by the sword of the executioner or by a long imprisonment. Charles the Good had often practised both these means with success. In vain did his partisans say, to comfort him, that at least the patriots would not offend him by their presence. Yes, but if they should return—if they should not return alone—if the Swiss.... There were in the Helvetic League confused noises, distant sounds of Reformation and of liberty, which alarmed the Savoyards. Yet they said, if we profit skilfully by the absence of the huguenots, if we properly muzzle the other Genevans, if we establish ourselves firmly in the city, nobody will be able to turn us out.

And now, as there was no need to hurry, the duke resolved to put off his entrance for a while. The appeal to Rome had wounded him deeply. To see himself, a sovereign prince, head of the most glorious house in Europe, uncle of the king of France, brother-in-law of the emperor, summoned before the pope by a band of nobodies, greatly incensed the vain and haughty Charles III. Before he enters Geneva, the appeal must be withdrawn. The duke sent orders on this subject to M. de Balleyson, his representative in the city. Then, as if to pass away the time, he urged on the persecution of all the Genevans around him. The Sieur of Bonebouges, brother to the Sieur of Montrotier, at the head of the troops of Faucigny, good soldiers but violent men, plundered the country, seized many respectable people in the environs of the city, and shut them up in the castles of Savoy, where they were grossly maltreated.

De Balleyson lost no time in executing his master’s orders. He represented to the principal friends of Savoy at Geneva of what an offence the city had been guilty towards the duke by daring to accuse him before the pope. On the 20th of September the general council was convoked. Alas! those energetic men who had so often been its glory, Hugues and his companions in misfortune, were absent, and nearly all the friends they still possessed in Geneva refused to attend. M. de Balleyson appeared before this shadow of a general council and said: ‘Our lord the duke wishes to learn from the people of this city of Geneva whether they intend to prosecute a certain appeal before the court of Rome.’374 The mamelukes, who were almost alone in the council, shouted out as if with one voice: ‘It is not our wish to prosecute the said appeal.’375

This matter being ended, the duke prepared to make his entrance into the city, which he did in the last days of September with a part of the troops which he had ‘beyond the Arve.’ He found Geneva very different from what he had desired. He had hoped to seize the rebels there, and he found none but slaves. The servile mamelukes cared little for liberty, and were proud to have a master. They called him their ‘most dread lord,’ approached him with base adulation, and, kissing the chains he brought them, assured him that his coming filled them with joy and comfort.

The duke, who set little store by such cringing men, thought only how he could become prince of the city, and intrigued to get the sovereign authority handed over to him. His ministers had conceived a plan which promised fairly, and the necessary manœuvres were immediately resorted to. The syndics having appeared before his Highness on the 29th of September (1525), the duke said to them rather abruptly: ‘The expenses and fines imposed on Geneva by my council of Chambéry amount to twenty thousand gold crowns.’ He desired to frighten the Genevans, and induce them to sacrifice their independence in exchange for this debt. But the syndics contented themselves with answering: ‘Monseigneur, the city is poor, and we can only offer you ... our hearts.’ This was not what Charles wanted. The duke’s chancellor, taking the syndics aside, said to them: ‘Come, gentlemen, put yourselves straight, do something to satisfy his Highness.’ The syndics reflected for two or three days, and unable or unwilling to guess what that ‘something’ could be, they said to the vidame, the lawful channel between them and the prince: ‘What does the duke mean?’ The vidame conferred with his master, and appearing before the council on the 10th of October, he said: ‘The duke is vicar-imperial and sovereign of the cities included within his states; Geneva is so included. Why do you not then acknowledge him as your master? Do not be afraid; he is a kind prince; he will respect the authority of the bishop and the franchises of the city, and you will enjoy a prosperity hitherto unknown.’ This was clearer: the Savoyard prince said plainly that he wanted Geneva. The vidame, observing that his hint had been received without enthusiasm, added: ‘If you do not accept the duke willingly, you will be made to accept him by force.’ The servile mamelukes, magnifying the advantages of annexation to so powerful a state, would have granted everything on the spot. The moment was critical: the syndics were uneasy and wavering. On the one hand was the ancient independence of their country; on the other, superior and brute force, which none of them could resist. They referred his Highness’s demand to the episcopal council, which in turn referred it to the prince-bishop in person. Such a reply was already a concession; the politicians of Savoy fancied themselves near their object.... Geneva consents, they will say to the bishop; you cannot answer us by a refusal. The city was on the verge of ruin when an unexpected and noble succour preserved it.376

What Charles had so much dreaded came to pass. Towards the end of October, several stout men of warlike mien and proud look were seen entering by the Swiss gate: they were ambassadors from Berne, Friburg, and Soleure, with Gaspard de Mullinen of Berne at their head. This energetic man was a good catholic; in 1517 he had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and had been created knight of the Holy Sepulchre. A blind conservative, he was conscientiously and steadfastly opposed to every change, religious or political. ‘Confederates,’ said he continually in the diets, ‘resist the doctrine of Luther, or we shall soon be overrun by it.’377 It would seem as if Mullinen ought to have supported the prince’s pretensions with his iron hand; but in his sight the attempt of Savoy was contrary to treaty, and consequently a revolutionary work. Seeing, therefore, that the Genevese council were wavering, the indignant Bernese went to their place of meeting, and said: ‘Stand firm and fear nothing; our lords will support you in all your rights.’378

This intervention on the part of the Swiss disconcerted the duke. He must change his plan, and have recourse to stratagem in order to free himself from this knight of the Holy Sepulchre. Never were diplomatists more successful in deceiving rude warriors and honest citizens. First, Charles’s ministers put the mamelukes forward, who began telling the ambassadors: ‘We desire to live under the protection of the duke and the bishop.’ Next, Charles declared to the Swiss that he was full of love for all the citizens of Geneva, and ready to grant everything the cantons required. ‘The fugitives may return,’ he added. ‘Here is a safe-conduct for them: take it to them.’ The document was placed in Mullinen’s hands. He was astonished at the rapid success of his embassy. He turned the paper over and over, without reading it however, and for a good reason. The safe-conduct was in Latin, and the knight of Mullinen with his noble colleagues did not pretend to any knowledge of that language; but how could they suppose that the duke had not given them, as he assured them, complete satisfaction? They imagined that the document, while it secured life and liberty to the fugitives, would open to them the gates of Geneva; and doubting not that Besançon Hugues, Lullin, Girard, and their friends, on their return to the city, would be able to preserve its independence, they thanked the duke and departed satisfied for their homes.379

But Hugues was a better Latin scholar and knew his man better than Mullinen. As soon as the ambassador returned, he handed to the Genevese, with an air of triumph, the important paper that was the reward of his journey, and Hugues read it eagerly. On coming to the last phrase he smiled bitterly: Dummodo non intrent civitatem, nec suburbia ejus, said the safe-conduct; ‘which means,’ said Hugues to the deputies, ‘that we can return to Geneva provided we do not enter the city or the suburbs.... The duke will be within and we without.... What services can we render the city? You know the smallness of our territory. If we are neither in the city nor in the suburbs, we are on the lands of Savoy.... Now if Berthelier was arrested close under the walls (at La Treille), if Lévrier was seized at the very gate of St. Pierre, what would befall us on the ducal territory?... The duke is laying a snare: it is a condition which nullifies the act.—The bird which the duke has sent us,’ he added, ‘has a fine head and beautiful plumage; but there is a tail at the end which spoils all the rest.’—‘This grace is a mere trap,’ said the indignant exiles. The knight of Mullinen was offended and annoyed at the manner in which the Duke of Savoy had befooled him, and perhaps began to imagine that a knowledge of Latin might be of use. ‘My lords,’ said the fugitives to the councils of Berne and Friburg, ‘the duke is a great traitor. He fears not God, but he fears men the more. For this reason, make us free of your cities; for if he knows that we are your allies, then only will he leave us in peace.’380 At the same time the Genevans, wishing to show the duke what confidence they placed in his safe-conduct, sent for their wives and children. This was making an energetic answer to Savoy.

The poor Genevese women with hearts full of bitterness began their journey. Women did not travel much at the beginning of the sixteenth century; and these, who had hardly been out of Geneva, thought, as they went to Friburg and Berne, that they were going almost to the end of the world. What a sad journey was theirs! Frightened at the real or supposed dangers of the road, surprised at the strange language whose unintelligible sounds began to echo in their ears, bathed in tears, and broken-hearted, they folded the poor children in their arms; for they were terrified at the strange scenes and new faces, and clung with their weak hands round their mothers’ necks. At length this troop of afflicted women entered Friburg; but their arrival at first only increased the distress, and when these loving wives embraced their husbands, their tears of joy were mingled abundantly with tears of sorrow. The ‘foreigners,’ as they were called, although of respectable families, were at that time destitute of everything, and were almost like beggars at the doors of their friends. At the first moment they were compelled to leave their families in the street, not knowing where to shelter them. It was a heart-rending time. What! not a room, not even a stable where these exhausted women and children could lie upon the straw! The afflicted mothers pressed the little creatures to their bosom—kissed their pale lips ... and then regretted Geneva.

At length the foreigners took courage and went before the council. ‘We sent for our families,’ they said, ‘but we can neither lodge them nor feed them.... Permit them to enter the hospital.’ The prayer was granted, and these well-born women who not long ago were robed in silk and dancing with Beatrice of Portugal, were seen exchanging the palace for a hospital. ‘The people were moved to pity,’ says Bonivard. It must be remembered, however, that in those times staying in a hospital was not degrading: travellers often lodged in such places.381

The arrival of the women and children at first increased the distress of the citizens; they were discouraged and seemed to have reached the depths of misery. The sight of these beloved beings reminded them of Geneva and softened their hearts. But on a sudden they roused themselves; they went from Friburg to Berne; they spoke in private houses, in the halls of the tribes, in the public places, and appealed to the sympathy of the Swiss. They represented that the duke had put their leaders to death; that he had forced them to forsake their homes and their business, and to fly to a foreign land; that, being reduced to the greatest poverty, they had been compelled to place their wives in a position which they would once have rejected with contempt, and that, to put a climax to this misery, the city which they loved, and for whose independence they were ready to sacrifice everything, was invaded and enslaved.... These great souls were troubled; these proud citizens, so resolute before the face of a cruel prince, were depressed in the presence of their afflicted families, of their exile, of the ruin of Geneva, and tears betrayed their weakness. The Bernese looked with admiration on these noble citizens, whose tattered garments bore witness to their wretched condition. Many of the tribes of the city of Berne and the majority of the Council of Two Hundred declared for the vanquished cause, and the conclusion of an alliance with Geneva seemed near at hand.

The bishop, already alarmed by Charles’s intrigues, was startled when he heard of this. If Berne accepted the reformed doctrine like Zurich, if Geneva should follow the example of Berne, the prelate seated in the chair of the bishops and on the throne of princes, would see them both taken from under him. Pierre de la Baume, like many ecclesiastical sovereigns, cared nothing for the welfare of those whom he called his subjects; but he cared a great deal for the title of prince, and would not suffer either the duke or the Swiss to deprive him of it. In order to preserve it, he would have convoked the whole world, had that been possible. Accordingly, even when at table, he felt uneasy and would pause frequently, musing with himself and saying: ‘The duke is at Geneva; the fox in the poultry-yard.... Let the fowls look out!... And then, on the other hand, they are playing tricks in the cantons.... The bears look as if they wished to descend from the mountains.... Unhappy shepherd!... I will do anything,’ he said, ‘to preserve the jurisdiction of the Church.’ He began at once, and endeavoured first to coax his flock:382 ‘We are very glad to hear of your good disposition,’ he wrote to them; ‘and you will do us great pleasure by informing us of all that is necessary for the welfare of our dear city.... Do you, on your part, so conduct yourselves that God and the world may have cause to be satisfied.’383 In 1525, as in 1523, the prelate’s device was still God and the world.

These efforts came to nothing. The government of bishops and princes, established in different parts of christendom, was at first mild and paternal, compared with the government of certain lay lords; but long ago, the bishops had lost the superiority which could legitimatise their authority, and the lay power had, on the contrary, gained great influence in the world. In France, especially since the thirteenth century, royalty, by displaying a character of kindness, had favoured the progress of the people in things material, intellectual, and even moral; and if Francis I., notwithstanding a personal character by no means estimable, holds a brilliant place in history, it must be ascribed to this quality in French royalty. But almost all the bishop-princes of Geneva who preceded the Reformation, cared little for the development of the nation, except it were to thwart it. John of Savoy and Pierre de la Baume were nothing but selfish dissolute priests. No halo was seen on their brows; and thus they found one day that there was no firm ground under their feet. Ecclesiastical authorities, even when honest, are apt to despise the temporal interests of their subjects; and as unhappily spiritual interests do not much affect ambitious prelates, the immortal souls and the earthly liberties of their flocks are equally oppressed by them.

The duke, who knew better than anybody the weakness of the episcopal power (which he had mainly caused), felt his ambition increase, and resolved to put an end to it. With this intent he would take a step which, by giving him what Savoy had coveted for centuries, would fortify him with a title calculated to impose silence on the complaints of the prelate, the accusations of the fugitives, and the demands of the Swiss. He determined to convene a general council, composed almost exclusively of his creatures, from which he would obtain, either by persuasion or by a great display of force, the homage due to a sovereign. To attain his object he began by toning down his insolent conduct and his unjust pretensions. Treasurer Boulet, first cause of all these disturbances, being obliged to furnish his accounts at the hôtel-de-ville, was condemned. The citizens imprisoned or fined received the promise of an early amnesty; and imagining he had thus gained every heart, Charles desired the people to be called together, that all the community might know of the good-will he entertained towards them. The syndics and the bishop’s vicar, perceiving that the fatal hour had arrived, refused his demand. They were not strong, but fear came upon them in that solemn moment when they saw Geneva suspended over the abyss. Gruet, the vicar, stammered out some excuses: ‘Nobody would come to the council,’ he said, ‘but rabble and ruffians.’ It was precisely what the duke wanted. Being already master of Geneva and claiming to make everything bend under his absolute will, he would not allow Gruet to finish his speech: ‘It is my council’s advice,’ he said, ‘that the people should assemble to-morrow, Sunday, at eight in the forenoon, in the cloister of St. Pierre. Have this published by sound of trumpet, and let the heads of families be informed by sending from door to door.’ Then turning to the vicar, he added: ‘You will be present with all the episcopal council.’ He informed them that he would visit the assembly on his way to mass, and would then tell them his pleasure; so that the council might prepare their answer during service-time, and he would receive it on his way back. The ducal partisans ran from street to street and from house to house in order to muster all their forces at an assembly called in the name of a prince whose subjects lived at Chambéry and Turin.384 The liberals, who were still numerous in Geneva, pretty generally kept away: they did not consider a council assembled by the duke to be legitimate.