So did not think the syndic Montyon and fifty of the most servile mamelukes. Proud of the decision of the Council of Halberds, they resolved to make it known to the Swiss. The horseman intrusted with the message departed, and, on his arrival at Friburg, delivered the letters to the avoyer. ‘The fugitives are deceiving you,’ said the writers; ‘the entire community desires to live under the protection of our most dread lord the Duke of Savoy.’ This accusation revived all the energy of the huguenots. The mamelukes charged them with lying.... From that hour they feared neither the dungeon nor the sword. Imprison them in Cæsar’s tower, in the castle of Bonne, or elsewhere, it matters not: they are ready to expose themselves to the violence of the enemy. ‘Appoint a commissioner,’ said some of them; ‘let him come with us to Geneva, and he will tell you which of the two has lied, we or the mamelukes.’ John Lullin and two or three of his friends departed without a safe-conduct, accompanied by De Sergine, a Friburg notary, resolved to prove that Geneva desired to be free. The unexpected news of Lullin’s arrival spread through the city; numbers of citizens immediately crowded round the bold and imprudent huguenot, gazed upon him with tenderness, and anxiously asked for news of the exiles. Fathers, brothers, sons, friends came in great anxiety of mind to hear the tidings of those they loved dearest. ‘Alas!’ said Lullin, ‘how can I tell of their misery and sorrow?’ ... He described them as exiled, oppressed with fears for their country, despised by some, ill-treated by others, destitute, ‘reduced to Job’s dunghill,’ obliged in order to support their families to receive alms from such strangers as had compassion on their wretchedness. But here the generous huguenot, whose wounded heart was bursting with tears and full of bitterness, could contain himself no longer: ‘It is you,’ he exclaimed, ‘it is you that increase our sorrow—yes, you!’ He indignantly complained that the Genevans remaining in Geneva disavowed those who had left it to save her independence, and made them pass for liars. He asked them how it was that, as the foreign prince had fled beyond the Alps, Geneva did not reclaim the liberty which he had taken away. ‘Is it thus that citizens defend the ancient rights handed down by their fathers?’ This touching language, the presence of him who uttered it and of the two or three fugitives at his side, the sight of their poverty, their distress, their patriotism, and their heroic courage, stirred the citizens. The Savoyard agents, Balleyson, Saleneuve, and their soldiers, remained in the city to no purpose: Geneva awoke from her slumbers. ‘Friburg desires to know the real state of this city?’ said a few patriots to Sergine; ‘come, then, with us to the council—come and see for yourself.’ The most energetic men were still in Switzerland; but by degrees all in Geneva who loved liberty were seen to shake off the silence to which they had been reduced. They encouraged one another to make an imposing demonstration. Erelong the justification of the foreigners took place, and it was conducted with all the solemnity that a simple people could give it.[388]
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE PEOPLE AND THE BISHOP DEFEND THE CAUSE OF THE FUGITIVES.
(December 1525 To February 1526.)
On the 22nd of December, ten days after Charles’s departure, crowds of citizens poured from every quarter towards the hôtel-de-ville. The syndics and the council, who were then sitting, were informed that certain persons desired to be admitted; the doors were opened, and the petitioners entered. At their head walked John Bandière, a man about sixty years old, whose son Ami (syndic in the Reformation year) was among the fugitives. This venerable man advanced, surrounded by the children of his son and of other exiles.[389] With him came several citizens who, though they had remained in the background during recent events, might yet with good right appear in the front line. There was the amiable Ami Porral, afterwards syndic, who zealously embraced the evangelical faith; Pierre de Joye, cousin of that De Joye whom Bishop John had desired to put to death; the bold Robert Vandel, syndic in 1529, his brother Peter, Sept, De Chapeaurouge, Falquet, Lect, Delapalud, Malbuisson, Favre, Lullin, Denis Hugues, son of the estimable Besançon: in short, says a document of the time, about 100 citizens, the flower of Geneva. These men desired not only to bear testimony in favour of men unjustly accused; but observing that those to whom the reins of the State had been confided were slumbering, that the chariot was leaving the track and about to fall into the ditch, they thought it their duty to set the drivers on the right road. Bandière, his face wet with tears (says a manuscript), spoke first: ‘Most honourable lords,’ he said, ‘you see these children; do you not know their fathers? Are not these poor little ones orphans already, though their fathers are still alive?’[390]—‘Yes,’ exclaimed the councillors.—‘Those citizens,’ continued Bandière, ‘who, for having defended the liberties of Geneva, were compelled, through a thousand dangers, to seek refuge in Germany yonder,[391]—are not they good men?’ ... ‘They are,’ was the answer. ‘Are they not citizens of this city—the good men whose fathers, sons, and connections you have before you?’—It was cheerfully acknowledged.
Having thus the testimony of the council in favour of the refugees—a testimony of which the Friburg deputy made a note—the venerable Bandière continued: ‘These refugees, whom you acknowledge to be good men, are surprised that you should have disavowed them in letters sent to the League. For this reason, we who are here present declare boldly that we approve them, both in their words and in their acts, and count them to be faithful and devoted citizens. At the same time, most honourable lords, we protest against every encroachment attempted by a foreign power on the rights of our prince and the liberties of the city.’
Thus the slumbering Geneva, whom Charles had thought dead, cast off the bonds with which that prince had bound her, and, rejecting the duke with one hand, called the fugitives back with the other. Bandière handed in his declaration in writing, and demanded letters-testimonial. Syndic Montyon, in great embarrassment, said that it was necessary to deliberate before answering. ‘Where is the necessity?’ exclaimed the energetic Robert Vandel.—‘It is not the custom to give testimonials here,’ was the reply. The huguenot, astonished at this refusal of a simple receipt, grew impatient, and, turning towards De Sergine, desired him to draw up the act himself.
The syndics and councillors had not yet remarked this person. ‘Not imagining they had such a visitor in their house,’ says Bonivard, ‘they looked at him with astonishment.’ Their astonishment increased when they saw the Friburger rise and say, addressing the whole assembly: ‘Sirs, do you acknowledge those who are in the country of the Helvetians to be men worthy of all honour; and do you ratify all that may be done by them for the welfare of this illustrious city?’ The syndics and councillors, surprised at this extraordinary question, kept silent; but all the other citizens present, voting as if in general council, answered ‘Yes!’ De Sergine, calling the council to witness the complete approval that had been given the fugitives, withdrew, followed by the hundred citizens, proud of having made the voice of the people heard in the very bosom of an enslaved senate.[392]
De Sergine, unwilling to lose a moment, sat down without ceremony on the steps of the hôtel-de-ville, as might have been done, perhaps, in the simple republics of antiquity, and prepared to draw up the letters-testimonial that were required of him. A certain number of patriots stood around him; others went through the city reporting what had just taken place. Men rejoiced everywhere; they directed their steps towards the hôtel-de-ville, remembering that God never forsakes a people that does not forsake itself. Every minute fresh citizens came and increased the strange assembly gathered round the notary, and every new-comer was eager to have his name at the foot of the declaration. All were speaking and arguing at once; some wept, others laughed; they felt that a new breath was passing over the city, and that its ancient liberties were recovering their vitality. All voices united in proclaiming the praises of the fugitives. ‘Yes, certainly they are better than us,’ said the crowd, ‘for they have forsaken everything that our liberties might be preserved.’ For a long time no such enthusiasm and joy had been witnessed in Geneva; and comparisons were drawn between this noble assembly, where every one gave his name at the peril of his life, and that gloomy Council of the Halberds, held in the duke’s presence: on one side pomp and tyranny; on the other, simplicity and liberty. Forsaken by the bishop, threatened by the duke, watched by the Count of Genevois, surrounded by the armed soldiers of Saleneuve and Balleyson, ever prompt to acts of violence, the citizens followed each other, from noon until five o’clock, to sign the document which was to secure their alliance with Switzerland and the triumph of their liberties.
The mamelukes, however, wishing to stop a movement which threatened to rob the duke of all his recent advantages, had recourse to secret practices. Creeping up to some of the patriots of their acquaintance whom they saw approaching, they would say: ‘Beware! when the duke returns with his army, he will lay his hand on these testimonials, he will count the names, he will mark the most guilty with a cross, and send them to rejoin the shades of Berthelier and Lévrier.’ The duke had, in truth, his revenge in reserve; but the citizens heeded it not, and replied to this manœuvre by giving in their names with greater enthusiasm. The approach of the festivals of Christmas and of the New Year compelled many to stay in their shops, who were thus prevented from signing; to provide against which, men went from house to house, asking who would vote for the alliance with Switzerland. There were not a hundred persons in Geneva who refused. The protest of the hôtel-de-ville decided the fate of the city. Many of the first subscribers were in the number of those who received the Gospel most gladly. The dawn of the emancipation which was then beginning to appear, was to be followed by the full light of the Reformation. But before that glorious day arrived, what struggles, what wars, what dangers, Geneva would still have to go through![393]
Erelong the movement descended, spreading from the hôtel-de-ville through all the streets of the city; and to the noble protest of the principal citizens were added the rejoicings of the young folks and of the people. The holidays of Christmas and of the New Year had arrived. The ‘children of Geneva,’ masked or with blackened faces, paraded the streets to the sound of the drum, singing and shouting all over the city: ‘Long live the huguenots!’ During this time the citizens held frequent meetings both by day and by night, at which they boldly called for the return of the patriots, though they saw the dangers that would accompany them. Some of the independents visited Switzerland by stealth, to report all that had taken place and bring back the fugitives in triumph.
The Savoyard party, who still had the power in their hands, were firmly resolved not to give it up. The episcopal council sat all night. The syndics, the vicar, and the vidame in particular, were losing their heads. To prevent the movement from succeeding, they took useless and contradictory steps, calculated rather to increase the irritation in men’s minds: nothing prospered with them. ‘Fancy how surprised they are,’ wrote the worthy Porral to Hugues. ‘They will go mad, please God. The vidame is always indoors with the gout; may God keep him there! They have forbidden the boatmen to ferry anybody over the water at night.... They are afraid that God will give them what they deserve.’ The procurator-fiscal issued writs against all who had signed the protest. ‘If you will not answer according to my pleasure,’ he said to them, ‘I will force you to speak.’—‘Really,’ said Porral, who already felt the need of another liberty than political liberty, ‘really, I think that after they have compelled us to deny our parents, neighbours, and friends, they will constrain us next to deny God himself.’