Berthelier and his friends hurried to Marti. They represented to him that at the moment when the duke had made such fine promises, he was thinking only of breaking them; they added that assuredly this perjured prince would have to answer for his crime. The Friburger, at once ashamed and indignant, went to the duke and said: ‘What do you mean, my lord? Do you wish me to be accounted a traitor? I have your word. You bade me give the people of Geneva assurance of your good will; they consequently opened their gates in good faith; otherwise you would not have entered without hard knocks. But now you break your promise.... My lord, you will certainly suffer by it.’ The duke, embarrassed and annoyed and unable to justify himself, got into a passion, and offered the Friburg ambassador the grossest insult: ‘Go,’ said he, addressing Marti with an epithet so filthy that history cannot transcribe his words, ‘get out of my presence.’[237]
This incident, however, made Charles reflect, and resolve to give a colour to his violence. Having drawn out all his men-at-arms, he summoned a general council. Only the mamelukes attended, and not all of them; but notwithstanding their small number, these ducal partisans, surrounded by an armed force, did not scruple to renounce, in the name of Geneva, the alliance with Friburg.
The duke immediately followed up his victory; and, wishing to make the hand of the master felt, ordered, in the morning of Thursday, April 7, that the ushers and men-at-arms should attend the city herald and make proclamation with an increased display of force. ‘O yes! O yes! O yes!’ said the herald, ‘in the name of our most dread prince and lord, Monseigneur the Duke of Savoy. No one, under pain of three blows of the strappado, shall carry any offensive or defensive weapon. No one shall leave his house, whatever noise there may be, or even put his head out of the window, under pain of his life. Whoever resists the order of Monseigneur shall be hanged at the windows of his own house.’ Such were the order and justice established by Duke Charles.[238] It might be said that, with a view to frighten the Genevans, he wished that they might not be able to leave their houses without walking in the midst of his victims. The proclamation was repeated from place to place, and the crowd gradually increased. On a sudden, a certain movement was observed among the people. A few men appeared here and there, whose look had something mysterious; they spoke to their friends, but it was in whispers. The agitation soon increased; it spread from one to another: here a man made signs of joy, there of terror. At last the mystery was explained. ‘Friburg!’ exclaimed several voices; ‘the Friburg army is coming!’ At these words the city herald, the men-at-arms, the mamelukes, and the Savoyards who accompanied him, stopped, and, on learning that a courier had just arrived from the Pays de Vaud, they dispersed.... Huguenots and mamelukes spread through the city and circulated the good news: ‘The Swiss! the Swiss!’ and the cry was answered from all quarters with ‘Long live the huguenots!’ ‘Thus the said proclamation could not be finished throughout the city,’ says a contemporary manuscript.[239]
Besançon Hugues, having escaped all the perils of the road, had arrived at Friburg, and, without giving himself time to take breath, appeared immediately before the council. He described the perfidy and violence of Charles, the dangers and desolation of Geneva; he showed that the city was on the point of being annexed to Savoy, and the chiefs of the republic about to be put to death. If Friburg did not make haste, it would find nothing but their heads hanging at the gates, like those of Navis and Blanchet.
The look of the generous citizen, the animation of his whole person, the eloquence of his appeal, inflamed every heart. Their eyes were filled with tears, and the men of Friburg laid their hands upon their swords.[240] A regiment, fully armed, marched out immediately for Geneva: and that was not all; the flower of the young men flocked in from every quarter, and the army soon amounted to 5,000 or 6,000 men. Having entered the Pays de Vaud, they seized his Highness’s governor, the Sire de Lullins. ‘Write to your master,’ said the chiefs of Friburg, ‘that he do no harm to our fellow-citizens; your head shall answer for theirs: besides, we are going to give him a treat at Geneva.’ Their liberating flags soon floated on the hills above the lake. A great number of the young men of the Pays de Vaud joined them, and the army mustered before Morges 13,000 to 14,000 strong. At their approach, the terrified inhabitants of that town, who were devoted to the duke, threw themselves into their boats, and fled to Savoy. The Friburgers entered their deserted houses, and waited for his Highness’s answer.[241]
Governor de Lullins failed not to warn his master, and it was this message that had interrupted the proclamation. The duke, at once violent and pusillanimous, was frightened, and suddenly became as humble as he had been insolent before. Sending for the ambassador of Friburg, he spoke to him as to a dear friend: ‘Haste to the camp at Morges,’ he said, ‘and stop this: prevail upon your lords to return.’ Marti, who had not forgotten Charles’s gross insult, answered him bitterly: ‘Do you think that a —— like me can make an army retreat? Commission your own people to carry your lies.’[242] Then the duke, still more terrified, sent M. de Maglian, a captain of cavalry, to guard the pass at Nyon, and, ‘changing his song,’ he had it cried through all the city ‘that no one should dare do harm or displeasure to any person of Geneva, under pain of the gallows.’ At the same time, the Sieur de Saleneuve and another of his Highness’s councillors went to the general council, but this time without riding-whips or wands, and with a benevolent smile upon their faces. There, after assuring the people of the love the duke bore them, they were asked to send two citizens to Morges to declare to the Friburgers that the duke would do no injury to Geneva. Two mamelukes, Taccon and De Lestilley, departed.[243]
Everything was changed in Geneva. The proposal to cut off forty heads was abandoned, to the great regret of Cartelier, who afterwards said: ‘What a pity! but for these —— Friburgers it would have been done.’[244] The huguenots, regaining their courage, ‘mocked at the Faucignerans and the other men-at-arms.’[245] The inhabitants of the Faubourg St. Gervais, strongly inclined to raillery, attacked their guests with songs, epigrams, and sarcasms. The huguenots imposed on their visitors a strict fast (it was the season of Lent), and gave them for rations only some small fish called bésolles (now féras). ‘You are too good christians,’ they said ironically to the Savoyards, ‘to eat meat now.’ And hence they derisively called the expedition ‘the Bésolles war,’ a name recorded in contemporaneous chronicles.
They could not come to an understanding at Morges. Besançon Hugues and Malbuisson were urging the Friburg troops to advance; Taccon and De Lestilley were urging them to retire. And while the leaders hesitated, the deputies of the cantons arrived and proposed a middle course: that Savoy should withdraw her troops, and Friburg her alliance. It was Zurich, Berne, and Soleure that sought thus to take advantage of the opportunity to withdraw from Geneva the only help which, after God, could save her. The huguenots, abandoned by the cantons, stood stupefied. ‘Renounce your alliance with Friburg,’ repeated the League, ‘without prejudice to your liberties.’ ‘But they would not,’ said Bonivard, ‘for they had the majority of votes.’ The real majority did not therefore consent to this fatal proposition; but it seems that it was again carried by the phantom of a general council, at which none but mamelukes were present. When that was done, the duke hastened to leave Geneva, but with less pomp than when he entered; and the plague took his place.[246]
When Charles quitted the city, he left behind him sad forebodings. The Swiss accused the Genevans of violence and insults, declaring them guilty of disgraceful conduct to the duke, their most illustrious ally.[247] The bishop, who was at Pignerol, wrote to the citizens: ‘Having recovered from my serious illness, I am thinking of passing the mountains, for the benefit and good of my city.’[248] Now every one remembered that he had made use of the same words when he had put Navis and Blanchet to death. The signs were threatening: the sky was thick with storm. The citizens trembled for those who were most precious to them, and frightful deeds were about to increase and prolong their terror. ‘From the war of 1519 until 1525,’ says the learned Secretary of State Chouet, ‘the people of Geneva was in great consternation.’[249]