He lost no time, and, full of confidence in the prestige of Portugal, the brilliancy of his court, and the graces of his duchess, he began to give ‘great banquets, balls, and fêtes.’ Beatrice, having learnt that it was necessary to win hearts in order to win Geneva, showed herself agreeable to the ladies, and entertained them with ‘exquisite viands,’ followed by ballets, masquerades, and plays. On his part the duke organised tournaments with a great concourse of noble cavaliers, assembled from all the castles of the neighbouring provinces, and in which the youth of Geneva contended with the lords of the court. ‘We have never been so well amused since the time of Duke Philibert,’ said the young Genevans. To the allurements of pleasure Savoy added those of gain. The court, which was ‘large and numerous,’ spent a great deal of money in the city, and thus induced all those to love it who had given up their minds to the desire for riches. Finally the attractions of ambition were added to all the rest. To souls thirsting for distinction Geneva could offer only a paltry magistracy, whilst, by yielding themselves to Savoy, they might aspire to the greatest honours; accordingly the notables and even the syndics laid themselves at the feet of the duke and duchess. ‘The prince was better obeyed at Geneva than at Chambéry,’ says Bonivard. Everything led the politicians to expect complete success. That bold soaring towards independence and the Gospel, so displeasing to the duke, the king of France, and the emperor, was about to be checked; and those alarming liberties, which had slept for ages, but which now aspired after emancipation, would be kept in restraint and subjection.[315]
The calculations of the princes of Savoy were not, however, so correct as they imagined. A circumstance almost imperceptible might foil them. Whilst the cabinet of Turin had plotted the ruin of Geneva, God was watching over its destinies. Shortly before the entry of the bishop and the duke, another power had arrived in Geneva; that power was the Gospel. Towards the end of the preceding year, in October and November 1522, Lefèvre published his French translation of the New Testament. At the same time the friends of the Word of God, being persecuted at Paris, had taken refuge in different provinces. A merchant named Vaugris, and a gentleman named Du Blet, were at Lyons, despatching thence missionaries and New Testaments into Burgundy and Dauphiny, to Grenoble and Vienne.[316] In the sixteenth century as in the second, the Gospel ascended the Rhone. From Lyons and Vienne came in 1523 to the shores of Lake Leman that Word of God which had once destroyed the superstitions of paganism, and which was now to destroy the excrescences of Rome. ‘Some people called evangelicals came from France,’ says a Memoir to the Pope on the Rebellion of Geneva in the archives of Turin. The names of the pious men who first brought the Holy Scriptures to the people of Geneva, have been no better preserved than the names of the missionaries of the second century: it is generally in the darkness of night that beacon fires are kindled. Some Genevans ‘talked with them and bought their books,’ adds the MS. Thus, while the canons were assisting in the representation of time-worn fables, and holding up as an example the piety of those who had sought for the cross in the bowels of the earth, more elevated souls in Geneva were seeking for the cross in the Scriptures. One of the first to welcome these biblical colporteurs was Baudichon de la Maison-Neuve, a man bold and ardent even to imprudence, but true, upright, and generous. He was enraptured to find in the Gospel the strength he needed to attack the superstitions of old times, which filled him with instinctive disgust. Robert Vandel did the same. Syndic in 1529, and employed in all the important affairs of the time, he found in these works which had come from Lyons a means of realising his ideal, which was to make Geneva a republic independent in religion as well as in politics. These noble-hearted men and many besides them read the Scriptures with astonishment. They sought, but they could find no Roman religion there—no images, no mass, no pope; but they found an authority and power above prelates and councils and pontiffs, and even princes themselves—a new authority, new doctrine, new life, new church ... and all these new things were the old things which the apostles had founded. It was as if the quickening breath of spring had begun to be felt in the valley after the rigours of a long winter. They went out into the open air; they basked in the rays of the sun; they exercised their benumbed limbs. Priests and bigot laymen looked with astonishment at this new spectacle. What! they had hoped that the pompous entrance of Charles and Beatrice would secure their triumph, and now an unknown book, entering mysteriously into the city, without pomp, without display, without cloth of gold, borne humbly on the back of some poor pedlar, seemed destined to produce a greater effect than the presence of the brother-in-law of Charles V. and of the daughter of the kings of Portugal.... Was the victory to slip from their hands in the very hour of success? Was Geneva destined to be anything more than a little city in Savoy and a parish of the pope’s?... Disturbed at this movement of men’s minds, some of the papal agents hastened to write to Rome: ‘What a singular thing! a new hope has come to these dejected rebels.... And to those books which have been brought from France and which they buy of the evangelicals, the Genevans look for their enfranchisement.’[317]
In fact, the triumph of the duke, the duchess, and their court, who had succeeded in leading certain Genevans into dissipation and servility, exasperated the huguenots: they never met without giving vent, as they grasped each other’s hands, to some expression of scorn or sorrow. Among them was Jean Philippe, several times elected captain-general. He was not one of those whom the Holy Scriptures had converted: he was a rich and generous citizen, full of courage and a great friend of liberty; but loving better to pull down than to build up, and carrying boldness even to rashness. He proposed that they should give a lesson to the mamelukes and priests, ‘and undertook to bear all the expenses.’ Other huguenots, more moderate, and above all more pious, held it of importance to make known the impressions they had received from the Gospel. The Word of God having touched their hearts, they desired to show that it was a remedy for all the ills of humanity. Seeing that everybody was eager to entertain the duke and duchess, they resolved to add their dish also to the banquet, seasoning it however with a few grains of salt. Instead of the discovery of the cross by Helena, they will celebrate the discovery of the Bible by the Reformation. The subject was not ill-chosen, as it brought out strongly the contrast between the old and the new times. The huguenots therefore informed the duke that they were desirous of performing a mystery-play in his honour in the open air on the Sunday after a certain holiday called Les Bordes. Jean Philippe having generously provided for all the expenses, the young men learnt their parts, and everything was ready for the representation.
It was fair-time at Geneva, and consequently a great crowd of Genevans and strangers soon gathered round the theatre: the Bishop of Maurienne arrived; lords and ladies of high descent took their seats; but they waited in vain for the duke, who did not appear. ‘We shall not go, neither the duchess nor myself,’ he said, ‘because the performers are huguenots.’ Charles, knowing his men well, feared some snake in the grass. The huguenot who had composed the piece represented the state of the world under the image of a disease, and the Reformation as the remedy by which God desired to cure it; the subject and title of his drama was Le Monde Malade, the Sick World, and everything was to appear—priests, masses, the Bible and its followers. The principal character, Le Monde (the World), had heard certain monks, terrified at the books which had lately come from France, announce that the last days were at hand, and that the World would soon perish. It was to be burnt by fire and drowned by water.... This was too much for him; he trembled, his health declined, and he pined away. The people about him grew uneasy, and one of them exclaimed: The World grows weaker every day;
What he will come to, who can say?
He had however some friends, and each of them brought him a new remedy; but all was useless—the World grew worse and worse. He decided then to resort to the sovereign universal remedy, by which even the dead are saved, namely, masses. The Romish worship, assailed by the reformers, was now on its trial in the streets of Geneva.
The World.
Come, Sir Priest, pull out your wares—
Your masses, let me see them all.
Priest, delighted to see the World apply to him.
May God give you joy! but how
You like them I should wish to know.
The World.
I like them just as others do.
Priest.
Short?
The World.
Yes, short.