IX.
From 1652 to 1656, the situation of the Reformed was satisfactory. Mazarin was pleased with the fidelity they had shown during the troubles of the Fronde. He was also desirous, by treating them well, to conciliate the friendship of Cromwell, who by inclining to the side of France or of Spain, then at war with each other, might throw a decisive weight into the scale.
The free exercise of religion was therefore re-established in many places where it had been suppressed, contrary to the texts of the edicts. The Reformed were restored to municipal offices; some were intrusted with important appointments in the finances and the army. The declaration of 1652, which we have already had occasion to mention, confirmed the Edict of Nantes, and regulations, articles, and patents passed in favour of the Reformed. Never since the reign of Henry IV. had they breathed so freely, or enjoyed greater protection.
This time was to be of short duration. The assembly of the clergy, which met in 1656, pronounced, through their organ, the archbishop of Sens, bitter complaints against what they called the oppression of the (Roman) Catholic church. As the priests could not be persecutors, they declared that they were persecuted. They did not, of course, demand the revocation of the edicts; but they required the re-establishment of “legitimate interpretations, which had been put upon them by the late king.” They grieved to see that heretics “had by new enterprises ruined all the wise precautions with which the great prince (Louis XIII.) had stopped the restlessness of their minds,” and supposed that the declaration of 1652 had been a surprise made upon the piety of Louis XIV. and his prime minister.
As the Reformed had built some places of worship belonging to a commander of Malta and to other ecclesiastical noblemen, the assembly of the Church pretended that “synagogues of Satan had been erected upon the patrimony of the Son of God.” These same priests pleaded the examples of Saint Ambrose and Saint Athanasius, who had refused places of worship to the Arian heresy, in order to demand the demolition of the new religious edifices. They insinuated that the presentation of the list of grievances to the king, proved the re-establishment of the political assemblies which were forbidden by the edicts; that the collections made in favour of the Vaudois of Piedmont, concealed a formidable conspiracy, and might be followed by warlike and dangerous enterprises; that the fortifications of some of the Huguenot places had been reconstructed, and that the town of Montauban, among others, was furnished with seventeen bastions. They accused the “apostates from the faith of their fathers” of aspiring to the most important dignities of the state; and their harangue ended with a pathetic appeal to the protection of the king; as if the (Roman) Catholic church of France had been reduced to the last extremity!
We have analyzed the speech of the orator of the clergy with some care, for it is from this moment that we must date a fresh period of persecutions and cruelty, that lasted until the Revocation [of the Edict of Nantes].
Mazarin did not accede to all that was demanded by the priests; for the war with Spain still continued, and it was still necessary to conciliate Cromwell. Nevertheless the council published a declaration designed to explain that of 1652, and which in effect annulled it. Things were again placed upon the same footing as in the time of Louis XIII. The exercise of the (Reformed) religion was forbidden in the places where it had been newly established; and to join, as it would appear, chicanery to violence, several decrees prohibited the ministers from taking the name of pastors, or of giving that of churches to their flocks.
A more important interdiction, already issued in 1631, was reproduced at this epoch, which went to deprive the pastors of the right of preaching in the quarters or annexed districts. To appreciate the extreme importance of the question, which threatened to suppress more than half the places of worship at one blow, it must be remembered that, according to the Edicts, the services of the Reformed religion could only be performed in a certain number of spots that had been fixed, commune by commune, name by name, within which it was lawful on the one hand, but criminal on the other [to celebrate divine worship].
But many of these communes comprised flocks either too small [in number] or too poor [in circumstances] to provide for the maintenance of a pastor. The faithful in such cases divided the burden by uniting, and one minister was charged with the care of all. This was the origin of the annexed districts.
It was not disputed that the right of preaching belonged to the communes within their respective boundaries, or at least it was not disputed directly; the letter of the Edicts had pronounced [that they had the right]. But the pastors were attacked. Had they the right of going beyond their place of residence? Were they free to unite two or three distinct flocks together? Called to one district, designated by name, could they serve others with it? As far as justice and common sense were concerned, there could have been no question [on the matter]; but for the intolerance of the priest, for the ill-will of the judge, for the hostile tendencies of the council, there was a question, and good care was taken not to let it drop.
This wretched quarrel for nearly forty years produced vexations upon vexations, suits upon suits, appeals upon appeals, the provincial synods commanding the pastors to maintain themselves in the possession of their annexed districts, and the legal authorities forbidding them to do so under pain of fines and imprisonment. For the most part, the evidence of right had to give way to sophisms supported by actual force.
The Parliaments of Toulouse, Rennes, Aix, and Poitiers, made themselves remarkable by the rigour and iniquity of their decrees. In every case of a Reformed and a (Roman) Catholic, of a pastor and a priest, of a place of worship and a church, of a consistory and an episcopal chapter, the heretical party was wrong, unless it had tenfold reason on its side, and its right was absolutely incontestable. These Parliaments interpreted the Edicts in such a manner that scarcely anything of them remained, and in criminal causes, the slightest evidence was sufficient to condemn the Religionists to excessive punishments.
How could the complaints of the Reformed reach the court? They might no more hold political assemblies. The council year after year refused the authority to hold a national synod, and the voice of a single deputy-general, who might be left to the churches, was disregarded. At length, in 1658, the provincial synods determined to send ten deputies to Paris, commissioned to submit their grievances to the king. Louis XIV. made them wait four months for an audience, and when he condescended to receive them, he said to them drily, “I will examine your statement, and will do you justice.” Cardinal Mazarin was even more formal. “The king will show by his acts,” he told the deputies, “the good-will he bears towards you; be assured that I speak to you sincerely.” Honeyed words, which were not believed!
All that the Reformers obtained, after the most persevering solicitations, was a vague promise that the king would observe the Edict of Nantes, “hoping that those of the pretended Reformed religion would render themselves worthy of this favour, by their good conduct, their fidelity, and their affection in his service.” The reply betrayed injurious suspicions, and the deputies did not conceal their chagrin. But the court retracted nothing; it only announced that commissioners from each religion should be sent into the provinces to watch over the execution of the Edicts. These commissioners entered upon their duties two or three years afterwards, and did the churches, as will be seen, much more harm than good.
In 1659, peace having been concluded with Spain, Mazarin conceded to the wishes of the Reformed so far as to grant them permission to convoke a general synod. It was opened at Loudun on the 10th of November, 1659, and was the last of the national synods, at least of such as had the approval of public authority.
One’s heart is filled with grief as the minutes of that assembly are read. Nothing but haughtiness, threats, accusations, and recrimination, appear on the side of the court; whilst on the side of the Reformers, it is all humility, abasement, and expression of gratitude,—gratitude for what? Doubtless for the evil that had not yet been done them!
At the opening of the synod, the royal commissioner, M. de la Magdelaine, addressed it, saying that the Reformed had great reason to admire the benignity of his majesty, who gave them the shelter of his royal authority.
He forbade them to make any complaint. “The king,” he continued, “has commanded me to tell you that he has much more reason to complain of the infractions and transgressions of the Edicts committed by his subjects of the pretended Reformed religion, and of the contempt they have manifested for them, for they have reached the supreme degree of insolence, even since his majesty has assumed the reins of government, for they recommenced preaching in Languedoc, in spite of its being prohibited, and not only in that province, but everywhere else, which they have done openly and boastingly.” It may be remarked that the same grievances based upon the same acts, had already been produced before the national synod of Charenton, fifteen years before, which proves that the court had not found a single new pretext for its reprimands.
The moderator of the assembly, Jean Daillé, thus answered these reproaches, in a submissive tone of voice: “We receive with all possible respect and humility, everything that is told us on the part of his majesty.” Then he showed that so far from having encroached upon the territory of the (Roman) Catholic church, the Reformers had in many places beheld their worship abolished and their places of worship razed.
The commissioner, acting upon the order of the court, pressed the assembly to hasten the close of its sittings, and gave them to understand that this would be the last of the national synods: “His majesty,” said he, “having considered that national synods cannot be holden unless at great expense and without causing much inconvenience and trouble to those who are deputed to [attend] them; and as, moreover, many affairs and matters may be settled more easily and at less cost in the provincial synods, the holding of which his majesty permits once every year for the conservation of the discipline of the pretended Reformed religion; for these reasons, gentlemen, his majesty has judged expedient that I should propose to you on his part to confer every power for the future upon these provincial synods.”
To have talked of the expense of a few thousand horses and the inconvenience of those who attended the national synods, in order to colour the violation of the Edict of Nantes, was a bitter mockery. Daillé answered, in the name of the assembly, that he hoped the king would not deprive them of his liberality. “Besides, the holding of these synods being,” added he, “of absolute necessity to us, we will very willingly bear all the expenses and all the inconveniences that we have to undergo for such an object.” The assembly then desired that “with the good pleasure of his majesty,” a new synod should be held at Nismes, after an interval of three years.
Louis XIV. did not grant that permission, and from the 10th of January, 1660, when the synod of Loudun terminated its session, the presbyterian organization of the French Reformation continued headless. Forcible state reasons had arisen for suppressing political assemblies; none but the most frivolous pretexts could be alleged for prohibiting the convocation of the national synods. But with the maxims of intolerance, the ruin of the former was certain to require the destruction of the latter. Royalty had broken up the Huguenot party, and the priesthood now made it crush the religious community.
The first national synod was held in 1559; the nineteenth and last met a century afterwards. If the Reformers suffered in 1559, they had the hope of conquering the kingdom. In 1659, they still suffered, but they had no longer any hopes of this kind. Descartes had appeared, and the field of the struggle against (Roman) Catholicism, at least in France, had begun to change.