=INQUEST ON THE SPIRIT.=
The news of this affair soon reached the ears of the bishop's official, and there was much talk about it at the palace. The Franciscans were pretty well known there. 'There is some monkish trick at the bottom,' said the official, an estimable and upright clergyman. He could not conceal his disgust at this cheat of the friars. He thought that these impetuous cordeliers would compromise, and perhaps ruin the cause of religion, instead of advancing it, by their pretended miracles. It was to be one of the peculiarities of protestantism to unveil the cunning, avarice, and hypocrisy of the priests, the workers of miracles. Extraordinary acts of the divine power were manifested at the time of the creation of the Church, as at the time when the heavens and the earth were first made by the Word of God. Is not all creation a miracle? But the Reformation turned away with disgust from the tricks and cheats of the Roman mountebanks, who presumed to ape the power of God. There were even in the Catholic Church men of good sense who shared this opinion. Of this number was the official of Orleans, the man who filled the place which some had destined for Calvin.
He took with him a few honest people, and went to the grey friars' church to inquire more particularly into the fact. He called the monks together: brother Coliman gravely told the whole story, and the official, after hearing their tales, said: 'Well, my brethren, I now order these conjurations to be performed in my presence.—You, gentlemen,' he said to some of his party, 'will mount to the roof and see if any ghost appears.'—'Do nothing of the kind,' exclaimed friar Stephen of Arras, in great alarm; 'you will disturb the spirit!' The official insisted that the conjuration should be performed; but it was not possible; the exorcist and the ghost both remained dumb. The episcopal judge withdrew, confirmed in his views. 'Here's a ghost that appears only to the monks,' he said to his companions; 'it is frightened at the official.' This affair, which made some tremble and others smile, soon became known throughout the city; the news reached the dark and winding streets where the students lived: one told it to another, and all hurried off to the university. Everything was in commotion there: some were for the monks, the majority against them. 'Let us go and see,' exclaimed this young France. Off they started, and arriving in a large body, says Calvin, soon filled the church. They raised their heads, they fixed their eyes on the roof that had become so celebrated; but they waited in vain, it uttered no sound. 'Pshaw!' said they, 'it is a plot the friars have wickedly contrived to be revenged of the provost and his wife. We will find out all about it.' These curious and rather frolicsome youths rushed to the roof in search of the ghost; they looked for it in every corner, they called it, but the phantom was determined to be neither seen nor heard, and the students returned to the university, joking as they went.
=THE PROVOST APPEALS TO THE KING.=
There was one person, however, in Orleans who did not joke: it was the provost. Irritated at the insult offered to his wife, he had recourse to the law: a written summons was left at the convent, but the monks refused to put in an answer, pleading the immunities they enjoyed in their ecclesiastical quality. The provost, true to his character, was not willing to lose this opportunity of giving the friars a severe lesson. 'What!' he exclaimed, 'shall these wretches make her, who rests at peace in the grave, the talk of the whole city? If she had been accused in her lifetime, I would have defended her, much more will I do so after her death!' He determined to lay the matter before the king, and set out for Paris.
The story of the ghost who appeared with a great noise in a convent at Orleans, had already reached the capital, and been repeated at court. The monks, in general, were not in high favour there. The courtiers called to mind the words of the king's mother, who thanked God for having taught her son and herself to know 'those hypocrites, white, grey, black, and of all colours.' Du Bellay especially and his friends gladly welcomed a story which set in bold relief the vices of the old system and the necessity of a reform. As soon as the provost reached the capital, he had an audience of the king. Francis, who was not famed for his conjugal affections, could not understand the emotion of the widower; but despising the monks at least as much as his mother and sister did, and delighted to put in practice the new reforming ideas which were growing in his mind, he resolved to seize the opportunity of humbling the insolence of the convents. He granted all the provost asked; he nominated councillors of parliament to investigate the matter; and as the cordeliers pleaded their immunities, Duprat, in his quality of legate, gave, by papal authority, power to the commissioners to proceed.
The day when the royal agents arrived at Orleans was a day of sorrow to one part of the inhabitants of that city, but of joy to the greater number. People looked with astonishment on these gentlemen from Paris, who would be stronger than the monks, and would punish them for their long tyranny. A crowd followed them to the convent, and when they had entered, waited until they came out again. Oh! how every one of them would have liked to see what was going on within those gloomy walls! The officers of the parliament spoke to the monks with authority, exhibited their powers, and arrested the principal culprits, to the great consternation of all the other monks. Some wretched carts stood at the gate of the monastery; the archers brought out the insolent friars; and the crowd, to its unutterable amazement, saw them mount like vulgar criminals into these poor vehicles, which the maréchaussée was preparing to escort. What inexpressible disgrace for the disciples of St. Francis!
=THE MONKS TAKEN TO PARIS.=
The news of the arrest had spread to all the sacristies, parsonages, and convents of the city, and a cry of persecution arose everywhere. At the moment of departure, a bigoted and excited crowd collected round the carts in which sat the reverend fathers, quite out of countenance at their misfortune. These people, some of whom no doubt were fanatics, but amongst whom were many who felt a sincere affection for the monks, wept bitterly; they uttered loud lamentations, and put money into the friars' hands, 'as much to make good cheer with,' says Calvin, 'as to help in their defence.'[652] But in the midst of this dejected crowd might be observed some citizens and jeering students, who exclaimed: 'Fine champions, indeed, to oppose the Gospel!' Certain sayings of Luther had crossed the Rhine, and were circulating among the youths of the schools: 'Who made the monks?' asked one. 'The devil,' answered another. 'God having created the priests, the devil (as is always the case) wished to imitate him, but in his bungling he made the crown of the head too large, and instead of a priest he turned out a monk.'[653] Such was the exodus of the reverend fathers: they arrived in Paris, and there they were separated and confined in different places, in order that they might not confer with one another.