Blanchet’s examination began on the 3rd of May in the court of the castle of Turin. He believed himself accused of an attempt upon the life of the bishop, and doubted not that torture and perhaps a cruel death were reserved for him; accordingly this young man, of amiable but weak disposition, became a prey to the blackest melancholy. On the 5th of May, having been brought back to the court of the castle, he turned to the lieutenant De Bresse, who assisted the procurator-fiscal, and without waiting to be interrogated, he said: ‘I am innocent of the crime of which I am accused.’—‘And of what are you accused?’ said the lieutenant. Blanchet made no answer, but burst into tears. The procurator-fiscal then commenced the examination, and Blanchet began to cry again. On being skilfully questioned, he allowed himself to be surprised, and made several depositions against Berthelier and the other patriots; then perceiving his folly, he stopped short and exclaimed with many groans: ‘I shall never dare return to Geneva! my comrades would kill me.... I implore the mercy of my lord duke.’ Poor Blanchet moved even his judges to pity. Navis, when led before the same tribunal on the 10th of May, did not weep. ‘Who are you?’ they asked. ‘I am from Geneva,’ he replied, ‘scrivener, notary, a gentleman’s son, and twenty-eight years old.’ The examination was not long. The bishop, who was then at Pignerol, desired to have the prisoners in his own hand, as he had once held Pécolat; they were accordingly removed thither.[151]
On the 14th, 15th,and 21st of May, Navis and Blanchet were brought into the great hall of the castle before the magnificent John of Lucerne, collateral of the council, and Messire d’Ancina. ‘Speak as we desire you,’ said the collateral, ‘and then you will be in his Highness’s good graces.’ As they did not utter a word, they were at first threatened with two turns of the cord, and that not being sufficient, they were put to the rack; they were fastened to the rope, and raised an arm’s length from the floor. Navis was in agony; but instead of inculpating Berthelier, he accused himself. The commandment which says: ‘Honour thy father and thy mother,’ was continually in his mind, and he felt that it was in consequence of breaking it, that he had fallen into dissipation and disgrace. ‘Alas!’ said he, when put to the question, ‘I have been a vagabond, disobedient to my father, roaming here and there, squandering my own and my father’s money in taverns.... Alas! I have not been dutiful to my parents.... If I had been obedient, I should not have suffered as I do to-day.’ On the 10th of June, says the report, he was again put to the torture and pulled up the height of an ell. After remaining there a moment, Navis begged to be let down, promising to tell everything. Then sitting on a bench, he accused himself bitterly of the crime of which he felt himself guilty; he confessed ... to having disobeyed his parents.[152] Peter Navis was a passionate judge in the opinion of many; Andrew saw only the father in him; and contempt of paternal authority was the great sin that agonised the wretched young man. Looking into himself, foreseeing the fatal issue of the trial, he did not give way, like Blanchet, to the fear of death, but bewailed his faults. Family recollections were aroused in his heart, the most sacred of bonds recovered their strength, and the image of his father followed him night and day.
The bishop had got thus far in his prosecutions when he learnt that Bonivard had just passed through Turin on his way to Rome. Delighted at seeing the prior of St. Victor fall into his net, the prelate gave orders to seize him on his return. Was it not Bonivard who had caused him such alarm in the palace on the occasion of the metropolitan summons? Was it not this man who had robbed him of Pécolat, and who even aspired to sit some day on his episcopal throne?... It is the nature of certain animals to carry their prey into their dens to devour it. The bastard of Savoy had already dragged Navis and Blanchet into his dungeons, and was preparing to mutilate their limbs; but it would be much better still if he could catch and rend the hated Bonivard with his claws.[153]
The latter so little suspected the impending danger, that he had come into Italy to solicit the prelate’s inheritance. It was evident that the sickly bastard had not long to live. ‘I will go to Rome,’ said Bonivard to his friends, ‘to obtain the bishop’s benefices by means of a cardination’ (an intrigue of cardinals).[154] He desired eagerly to be bishop and prince of Geneva; had he succeeded, his liberal catholicism would perhaps have sufficed for the citizens, and prevented the Reformation. Bonivard reached Rome without any obstacle six years after Luther, and like the reformer was at once struck by the corruption which prevailed there. ‘The Church,’ he said, ‘is so full of bad humours, that it has become dropsical.’[155] It was in the pontificate of Leo X.; all that priests, monks, bishops, and cardinals thought about was being present at farces and comedies, and of going masked to courtesans’ houses.[156] Bonivard saw all this with his own eyes, and has left us some stories into which he has admitted expressions we must soften, and details we must suppress. ‘Having business one day with the concubinary of the pope’s cubicular (we leave these unusual expressions, the meaning of which is not very edifying), I had to go and find him at a courtesan’s.... She wore smart feathers, waving over a fine gold coif, and a silk dress with slashed sleeves; you would have taken her for a princess.’[157] Another day, while walking in the city, he met one of these ‘misses,’ disguised as a man, and riding on a Spanish jennet; on the crupper behind her was a janin wrapped in a Spanish cape, which he drew carefully over his nose so that he might not be recognised. ‘Who is he?’ asked Bonivard. ‘It is Cardinal So-and-so with his favourite,’ was the reply. ‘We say in my country,’ he rejoined, ‘that all the madmen are not at Rome; and yet I see you have them in abundance.’[158]
The prior of St. Victor did not lose sight of the object of his journey, and canvassed unceasingly; but began to despair of success. ‘Do you wish to know,’ he was asked, ‘what you must do to obtain a request from the pope and cardinals? Tell them that you will kill any man whom they have a grudge against; or that you are ready to serve them in their pleasures, to bring them la donna, to gamble, play the ruffian, and rake with them—in short, that you are a libertine.’ Bonivard was not strict; yet he was surprised that things had come to such a pass in the capital of catholicism. His mind, eager to learn, asked what were the causes of this decline.... He ascribed it to the disappearance of christian individualism from the Church, so that a personal conversion, a new creature, was required no longer. ‘That in the first place,’ he said, ‘because when princes became christians, their whole people was baptised with them. Discipline has been since then like a spider’s web which catches the small flies, but cannot hold the large ones. And next it comes from the example of the popes.... I have lived to see three pontiffs. First, Alexander VI., a sharp fellow,[159] a ne’er-do-well, an Italianised Spaniard,—and what was worst of all,—at Rome! a man without conscience, without God, who cared for nothing, provided he accomplished his desires. Next came Julius II., proud, choleric, studying his bottle more than his breviary; mad about his popedom, and having no thought but how he could subdue not only the earth, but heaven and hell.[160] Last appeared Leo X., the present pope, learned in Greek and Latin, but especially a good musician, a great glutton, a deep drinker; possessing beautiful pages whom the Italians style ragazzi; always surrounded by musicians, buffoons, play-actors, and other jesters; accordingly when he was informed of any new business, he would say: Di grazia, lasciatemi godere queste papate in pace; Domine mio me la ha date. Andate da Monsignor di Medici.[161] ... Everything is for sale at the court: red hats, mitres, judgeships, croziers, abbeys, provostries, canonries.... Above all do not trust to Leo the Tenth’s word; for he maintains that since he dispenses others from their oaths, he can surely dispense himself.’[162]
Bonivard, astonished at the horrible state into which popes and cardinals, priests and monks, had sunk the Church, asked whence could salvation come.... It was not six months since Prierias, master of the sacred palace, had published a book entitled: Dialogue against the Presumptuous Propositions of Martin Luther.[163] ‘Leo X. and his predecessors,’ said Bonivard, ‘have always taken the Germans for beasts: pecora campi, they were called, and rightly too, for these simple Saxons allowed themselves to be saddled and ridden like asses. The popes threatened them with cudgelling (excommunication), enticed them with thistles (indulgences), and so made them trot to the mill to bring away the meal for them. But having one day loaded the ass too heavily, Leo made him jib, so that the flour was spilt and the white bread lost. That ass (he added) is called Martin, like all asses, and his surname is Luther, which signifies enlightener.’[164]
They found at Rome that Bonivard had not the complaisance necessary for a Roman bishop; and the prior, seeing that he had no chance of success, shook the dust off his feet against the metropolis of catholicism, and departed for Turin. His journey had not, however, been useless: he had learnt a lesson which he never forgot, and which he told all his life through to any one that would listen to him. When he reached Turin, he went to visit his old friends of the university, but they cried out with alarm: ‘Navis and Blanchet are within a hair’s-breadth of death, and it has been decided to arrest you. Fly without losing a moment.’ Bonivard remained. Ought he to leave in the talons of the vulture those two young men with whom he had so often laughed at the noisy banquets of ‘the children of Geneva?’ He resolved to do what he could to interest his friends in their fate. For a whole week he went from house to house, and walked through the streets without any disguise. Nothing seemed easier than to lay hands on him, and the ducal police would have attempted it, but he was never alone. The scholars, charmed with his spirit and independence, accompanied him everywhere, and these thoughtless headstrong youths would have defended him at the cost of their blood. Bonivard, wishing to employ every means, wrote by some secret channel to Blanchet and Navis; the gaoler intercepted the letter, and took it to the bishop, who, fancying he saw in it a conspiracy hatching against him, even in Turin, pressed the condemnation of the prisoners, and ordered Bonivard to be seized immediately. Informed of what awaited him, the intelligent prior displayed great tranquillity. ‘I shall stay a month longer at Turin,’ he told everybody, ‘to enjoy myself with my old friends.’ Many invitations being given him, he accepted them all; but the next day, before it was light, he took horse and galloped off for Geneva.[165]
CHAPTER XII.
BLANCHET AND NAVIS EXECUTED. THEIR LIMBS SUSPENDED TO THE WALNUT-TREE NEAR THE BRIDGE OF ARVE.
(October 1518.)
The bastard was staggered when he was informed that Bonivard had escaped. He consoled himself, however, with the thought that he had at hand the means of gratifying his tastes and his revenge, and concentrated all his attention on Navis and Blanchet. What should he do with these two young men who had so thoughtlessly fallen into his net? How, in striking them, could he best strike the independent men of Geneva? For he was not thinking merely of getting rid of these two adventurers, but of filling all the city with terror by means of their death. To no purpose was he reminded that the father of one of the prisoners was the most zealous of his officers; the bastard cared little for a father’s grief, and thought that Peter Navis would serve him still better, when he had given him a striking example of the manner in which he desired to be served. He pressed the court to hasten on the trial. Ancina, judge in criminal matters; Caracci, seignior of Farges, and attorney-general of Savoy; and Licia, his deputy, constituted by ducal letters judges of Navis and Blanchet, declared them solemnly convicted, first, of having been present at the meeting at the Molard, and of having promised, they and their accomplices, to be ‘unanimous against the bishop’s officers, to rescue out of their hands any of their number whom these episcopal agents might take into custody; second, of having proposed, in case the duke should take part against them, to flee and place themselves under a foreign government (Switzerland), abandoning thus the sovereignty of Savoy and the splendour of the white cross.’ The two prisoners were condemned to be beheaded, and then quartered, according to the bishop’s desire. They prepared for execution immediately.[166]
Navis breathed not a murmur; the feeling of his disobedience to his father closed his lips; it appears also that Blanchet recovered from his terror, dried his tears, and acknowledged his folly. Nothing indicates that the repentance of these two Genevan youths was truly christian; but it would be unjust to overlook their noble confession at the hour of death. The provost and his men, having received them from the hands of the magistrates, led them to the place of execution. Their appearance was becoming, and their look serious; they walked between their guards, calm, but without weakness or alarm. When they had mounted the scaffold, Navis spoke: ‘Wishing before all things to make amends for the evil we have done, we retract all that we have said touching certain of our countrymen, and declare that such avowals were extorted from us by the fear of torture. After proclaiming the innocence of others, we acknowledge ourselves guilty. Yes, we have lived in such a way that we justly deserve death, and we pray God, in this our last hour, to pardon our sins. Yet understand, that these sins are not those of which we are accused; we have done nothing contrary to the franchises and laws of Geneva: of that we are clean.... The sins which condemn us are our debaucheries.’ Navis would have continued, but the provost, vexed at what he had said already, ordered the executioner to do his duty. The man set to work instantly: the two young men knelt down, he raised his sword, and ‘thus they were beheaded, and then quartered.’[167]