‘Very dear and good friends,—You know how, at your earnest prayer and request, and also at that of our very dear and great friends, confederates, allies, and gossips, the lords of the city and canton of Berne, we have restored and sent back certain prisoners who had, in this our kingdom, used words respecting the faith, such and of such consequence, that therefore they had been condemned to death. This we were right willing to do; for the affection we have to gratify you and the said lords of Berne, as well in this respect as in all others that may be possible to us, having perfect confidence that you are willing to do the like for us. For this cause, having been advertised that you have detained in prison in your city a monk our subject, Guy Furbity by name, of the order of Preaching Friars, for having held certain language and dogmatized things touching the faith of the Church, which did not seem good to you, and for which he is about to be brought to trial, we desire to pray you right affectionately by these presents, that, showing towards us reciprocal pleasure, you would immediately release the said Furbity our subject, without further proceedings against him for the reasons aforesaid. By so doing you will please us very agreeably. Praying the Creator to guard you, our very dear and good friends, in his most holy keeping. Written at Blois the xxist day of September, one thousand v hundred xxxiiij.

‘Françoys. Breton.’

Furbity Set At Liberty.

Francis I. said: I send you back two prisoners, return me one. That seemed just and natural, yet the petty republic did not yield to the demand of the puissant king of France. The Council desired to follow conscientiously the legal course, and the rules of diplomacy. They found that the two cases were not identical; and as the Dominican had been imprisoned at the instance of the lords of Berne, it was agreed to ask their opinion first. The favor of the house of Valois could not make the magistrates of Geneva yield, even after the extraordinary boon they had just received: they desired, above all things, to follow the principles admitted in politics, and act justly towards the Bernese. Furbity was set at liberty at the beginning of 1536.

To have imprisoned the Dominican at all for preaching was a fault, and to keep him in prison was another; but in each case the fault was that of the age. With this reserve, we may pay to the courage of the weak the honor that is due to them. It is a noble thing in small states to hold firm to their principles in the presence of powerful empires, when they do so without presumption. And not only is it noble, it is salutary also, and invests them with a moral force which guarantees their existence. The petty republics of Switzerland and Geneva in particular have given more signal examples than that which has just been recorded.

CHAPTER XV.
THE SUBURBS OF GENEVA ARE DEMOLISHED AND THE ADVERSARIES MAKE READY.
(September 1534 to January 1535.)

Baudichon de la Maisonneuve and Janin re-entered Geneva the day after that on which the final order to demolish the suburbs was given. The captain of the Lutherans was restored to his country at the very moment when the deadliest blows were aimed at it. The coincidence was remarkable. The return of these two energetic citizens could not but give a fresh impetus to the resolution to sacrifice one half of the city in order to save the other. The first walls destined to fall were those of the monastery of St. Victor, which, as it stood at the gate of the city, might easily be occupied by the enemy’s army as an advanced post.[[637]] There were no tears shed over the destruction of that building, except such as might have been drawn down by the thought of its antiquity. Ever since Bonivard the prior had been prisoner at Chillon, the monks had shaken off every kind of restraint, and the monastery had become a sty of scandals and disorders. The friars had been in the habit of frequenting certain houses of ill fame in their suburbs; but now the convent was the scene of their continual orgies. No sooner was there a talk of destroying that nest of debauchery than the reprobates exhibited the most insatiable greediness. The monks and their mistresses began to pillage the monastery; they tore down and carried away everything that was of any value; at night, and sometimes even during the day, they were seen leaving the monastery with bundles, and hiding their plunder in the adjoining houses. The priory was thus not only emptied, but almost stripped to the bare walls.[[638]] What an ignoble fall was that of these pretended religious orders! Notwithstanding their robbery, the Council assigned the monks a residence in the city, and even a chapel, which was more than they deserved.

Then every man put his hand to the work. All was life and animation on those beautiful heights whence the eye takes in the lake, the Alps, the Jura, and the valley lying between them. First, the church was pulled down, and then the priory, and nothing was left but rubbish which encumbered the ground. That building, the most ancient in Geneva, was founded at the beginning of the sixth century by Queen Sedeleuba, sister of Queen Clotilda, in memory of the victories of her brother-in-law, Clovis;[[639]]—that temple where the body of St. Victor had been deposited during the night, and which (as it was said) a light from heaven pointed out to strangers,—that sanctuary to which the great ones of the earth had gone as pilgrims, was now an undistinguishable ruin. That monument, erected to commemorate the triumph of orthodoxy defended by Clovis over Arianism professed by Gondebald, crumbled to the ground, after lasting more than a thousand years, in the midst of the libertinism of its monks. A crown had been placed on the cradle of St. Victor—a rod should have been placed upon its ruins.

Lamentations Of The Dead.

Yet things that have been great in the eyes of men do not always end like those that have been vulgar. One day a strange report, set afloat by the monks and nuns, circulated through the city. During the night, voices, groans, and lamentations had been heard among the ruins of St. Victor. The wind, when it blows strong over those heights, often resembles the human voice. The devotees listened: again the plaintive tones were heard, and agitated them. ‘Ah!’ they exclaimed, ‘it is the dead groaning, and not without reason, because their repose has been disturbed.’ The crowd increased, and ere long ‘the ghosts were plainly lamenting, not only by night, but by day.’ If the dead lamented over the fall of St. Victor, the living had reason to weep still more over the church, whose monks had been its disgrace instead of its glory.