CHAPTER XVII
SECOND ATTACK, IN WHICH THE LEADER PERISHES.
(May 4, 1533.)
THE Reformation of Geneva numbered in its ranks the friends, not only of evangelical truth, but of political liberty. There was both good and evil in this. The vigorous hand of the huguenots may possibly have been necessary to restrain the intrepid mamelukes; but it was to be regretted that the arms of the flesh shone beside those of the spirit. If reasoning by syllogism is bad in religious subjects, reasoning by the pike is worse still. Some partisans of the Reform gave a new version of the Compel them to come in of the Romish Church, by practising a little of the Compel them to go out. Both of them need a little indulgence. The human mind having been kept in darkness for ten centuries, required a lengthened education before it could understand that it is unholy to employ in religion any other weapons than those of free conviction.
=WAR OF THE TONGUE.=
There was another kind of hostility, pretty frequent in those times, and more conformable to the manner of our days than swords and guns—the use of ridicule. The Genevans of both schools usually began with legitimate discussions, the catholics alleging the infallibility of the pope, and the reformed opposing them with that of the Word of God. They debated on this subject in the streets and in the convents, around the fire and even in the council. But they often passed from discussion to ridicule. One day, when the priests were walking in procession and singing aloud the prayers for the conversion of heretics, some huguenots, standing at the corner of a street, fancying a resemblance between their harsh chants and the voice of a certain thick-skinned animal, said laughingly to one another: 'Give some thistles to those noisy braying donkeys.' 'Alas!' exclaimed the nuns in their cloister, 'they make so many jests that you could not write them down in a year!' It is Sister Jeanne who records this fact, but her narrative is so full of fables that we cannot guarantee its authenticity.[708]
Most of the priests were stronger in arm than in mind, and preferred a fight with swords to one with words. That devout canon and valiant knight Messire Pierre Wernli was bursting with rage. He harangued in the convents, in private houses, and even in the streets; he wished to fight and prove, halberd in hand, that supreme respect was due to the papacy. He held frequent conferences with the heads of the party, both lay and ecclesiastic, at Percival de Pesmes', at M. de Thorens', or at the vicar-episcopal's. All kept their eyes and ears open, determined to take advantage of the first opportunity to secure the triumph of their cause. They thought the time for action had come at last.
It was now the beginning of May, the date of the fair at Lyons, at that time much frequented by the Genevans. Some of the principal huguenots hesitated, however, to go there. It seemed difficult for them to leave Geneva just at that moment, for all the indications of a storm were visible in the sky. They believed, however, they should have time to make the little journey before the crisis arrived. Some of the more daring among them posted up bills with the words: 'Let us go to the fair before the war and deliverance of Geneva.' They departed, and in certain secret meetings it was said that the huguenots who remained behind ought to be killed, and the gates shut against those who were away: thus the religion of Geneva would be saved. But in the opinion of others, it was proper that the pomps of religious worship should form a prelude to these combats of the faith.
=HIGH MASS.=
Sunday, the 4th of May, was the feast of the Holy Windingsheet. The linen cloth, in which the body of Jesus Christ was buried, and on which (it was said) the print of his face had remained, was exhibited that day in Geneva, and on other days in ten or twelve different cities which all pretended to possess it. At the moment when the Reform was endeavouring to restore Christ's true image to the Church, such as it is found in Holy Scripture, the most ardent partisans of catholicism were found exhibiting on a sheet the features, which sixteen centuries, as they alleged, had not been able to efface. To give more importance to the feast, the vicar-general entrusted the service to Pierre Wernli, who was looked upon as one of the most important of the canons, and was at the head of the most bellicose. The congregation was large. Great fervour, internal emotion, and ardent prayers rendered the service that day more than usually solemn. Wernli, who had put on his finest sacerdotal robes, presided over the ceremony with religious enthusiasm and swelling pride. He was fanatical but sincere. His motto was: 'Everything for the honour of God and holy Church.' Convinced of the efficacy of the sacrifice of the mass, he repeated the introit, chanted the offertory, consecrated the host, and went through the elevation. The sympathetic accents that rose from his heart resounded through the arches of the cathedral. 'What a fine voice!' said some; 'what a fine man! There is not such another officiater in the world, and we have not seen so fine a service in Geneva for these ten years!'[709] After the mass of the Holy Windingsheet, the catholics could not doubt of the approaching triumph of the Church.
A new contest was about to begin. We do not forget the small extent of the field of battle. We are not describing the destinies of the empire of the Persians or the Romans, of the Russians or the Germans; but those of a little city, surrounded by a narrow territory. Here, everything is on a small scale; yet the combat of which we are about to speak led to the return of the prince-bishop; and if the plans formed between that ecclesiastical prince, the duke of Savoy, and the emperor himself had been carried into execution at that moment, as everything seemed to forebode, liberty and the Reformation would have perished in Geneva. Would that loss have produced no effect? Are we mistaken in thinking that the great battle which was to last during all the 16th century—a battle which the Gospel and liberty fought against Rome, Jesuitism, and the Inquisition, and which is undoubtedly the most important of modern times—might not have had the same issue, if this little city, so full of living faith and heroic courage, had not fought in the ranks, and imparted to protestantism the vigour necessary to conquer formidable enemies? When they hear of these petty struggles, many of the friends of liberty and the Gospel perhaps may say: 'Let us not despise such little things. It is we whom the narrative concerns. These people were the first to fight for the precious gifts which we now enjoy in peace.'