The warlike canon had hardly given the signal when the combat began. It was a fine spring night, everything was pale and grey; it was, as we have said, easy to make mistakes; the silence and obscurity imparted a certain solemnity to the struggle. The shadows moving about the Molard became agitated; they rushed upon each other, and dealt frequent blows in the darkness. One shadow ran after another, but on both sides they fought desperately and at close quarters. From time to time there was a brief gleam; sword met sword, and flashed fire. The violent Perrin and the zealous Claude Bernard were at the head of the huguenots, and struck stoutly. Among the catholics, John Rosetti and Canon Viole were those who rushed with greatest fury upon their adversaries. All four fell wounded on the spot. Others besides them were hit, and their blood flowed; but they were not noticed, and the combatants trampled the wounded under foot, until their friends, recognising them, carried them to some neighbouring house. A blow more famous than all was about to be struck; a victim more notable was about to bite the dust.
Wernli, who had remained at the top of the square, unable to see his enemies, was challenging them with all the strength of his lungs. 'Where are they?' he kept on shouting and swearing; 'Where are these Lutherans who speak ill of our law?' Some huguenots who were not in the square, but in the Rue de la Croix d'Or (all the adjoining streets were full of catholics and reformers), answered him, 'They are here.' The canon, who could not see, but who could hear, rushed halberd in hand in the direction whence the reply came. He reached his enemies, striking them with the head and the butt of his weapon, which he handled as easily as his breviary. By killing Lutherans he hoped to kill Lutheranism itself.
The huguenots whom he had attacked did not remain idle, but parried the priest's blows with their naked swords. At last one of them, whom the long and pointed blade provoked, sprang forward, caught hold of the halberd, broke it in two and flung the pieces away. The hero of the clergy, finding himself deprived of his favourite weapon, lost not a moment; he drew his two-handed sword and rushed upon his adversaries, cutting and thrusting like a Switzer of Grandson. The huguenots, finding themselves so vigorously attacked, no longer stood upon the defensive; they fell upon the champion of the papacy. 'They charged him,' says Sister Jeanne, who adds, 'but he defended himself valiantly.' His breastplate protected his body from the neck to the waist, so that all the blows aimed at him glanced off, 'so completely and cunningly was he armed.'[723] At last a man named Pierre l'Hoste, as is believed, a poor carman, impatient at the long struggle, looking upon Wernli as a soldier and not a priest, approached him, and, moving round him in search of the weak point in his armour, plunged his sword into his body. The canon staggered and fell. 'Thus was the blasphemer killed, and he lay in the square without moving hand or foot.'[724] The struggle occurred in front of the house of Councillor Chautemps, one of the most zealous of the evangelicals. Wernli fell on the steps. They that take the sword shall perish with the sword.[725] Some priests who were near, seeing their captain fall, fled each to his convent or to the cloister of St. Pierre.[726]
=DEATH OF THE CANON.=
The death of the general did not, however, put an end to the fight. Priests with their partisans, and huguenots, were still exchanging blows when the syndic of the guard, the head of the military department, arrived. He raised his official bâton and ordered the citizens to return to their houses. De Chapeaurouge, commander of the cavalry, zealously assisted him. 'Stop!' they both exclaimed. All their calling was useless, so great was the popular emotion, and so inflamed was their courage, says the chronicle. The syndic, advancing into the midst of the combatants, conjured them to separate; but he received a blow on the head from the hands of a priest.[727] What the canon's death had not been able to do, the magistrate's wound accomplished. This incident put an end to the contest. The reformed, full of respect for the syndic, sheathed their swords and withdrew to their homes.
Some priests, however, with a few of their partisans, refused to obey. They were unwilling to fail this time, and did not intend that their project should come to nothing. They were determined to bury the Reform. Exasperated bands paraded the streets, challenging and insulting the huguenots, who refused to chastise the braggart priests. Even this forbearance did not appease the fanatics; they continued their provocations until daybreak. 'All night the christians were under arms,' says Sister Jeanne, 'seeking those wicked dogs; but it was of no good, for they were all hidden!'[728] When daylight began to appear, the clergy and their allies, fatigued with the tumultuous night, went off to bed, and thus ended their second attack. Now they will try to obtain by intrigue and terror, what arms have failed to procure them.
[708] La Sœur J. de Jussie, Le Levain du Calvinisme, p. 62.
[709] La Sœur J. de Jussie, Le Levain, p. 63.
[710] Froment, Gestes de Genève, p. 55.—Gautier MS.
[711] Froment, Gestes, p. 57.