The activity of the Genevese was constantly stimulated by the news which reached them from without. ‘The Duke of Savoy,’ said letters from Berne, ‘is collecting an army of brigands, and preparing perpetual troubles for you.’ Towards the end of September, the two Gallatins (John the notary and his son Pierre), having gone to their estate at Peicy for the vintage, were on their return summoned before the Council on a charge of communicating with the people in the castle of Peney, which was half a league distant. The father said that, while he was in the press-house pressing the grapes, Nicod de Prato and other Peneysans had called on him. Did any one ever refuse a visit paid in the press-house? They had taken a glass of wine together, and that was all. ‘As for me,’ said the son, ‘I confess that I went to Peney and drank with the episcopal fugitives there; they told me that ere long we should have a stout war; that it would not be a little one like De Mauloz’ night attack on the 31st of July; that they would come in great force, and that I should do well to leave the city. When I returned (continued Pierre) I reported it all to my captain.’ The two Gallatins were immediately discharged without any remark.[[643]]
The first enemy which the bishop loosed against his flock was famine: he gave orders to intercept the provisions all round the city. The market-place was deserted, the stores in the houses were gradually exhausted, and the episcopals flattered themselves that before long none but hungry phantoms would be seen in Geneva, instead of valiant citizens. ‘Oh, insensate shepherd! he robs even his sheep of their food, when he should feed them,’ said one who was among the number confined within the city walls. Unhappy bishop! unhappy Geneva![[644]]
Geneva Encircled With Iron.
As if starvation was not enough, the unnatural pastor surrounded Geneva with a circle of iron. His castle of Jussy to the east, at the foot of the Voirons; that of Peney to the west, on the banks of the Rhone; the Duke’s castle of Galliad to the south-west, on the heights overlooking the Arve; and to the north on the lake, the village of Versoix, at that time well defended: all these fortresses, filled with mamelukes and soldiers, hemmed in the city, and left no issue but by the lake. ‘In this way no one can leave Geneva,’ they said, ‘except at the risk of his life.’ The bishop followed the example given by dispossessed princes—nay, even by ecclesiastical authorities, and connived more or less at the brigands. Many gentlemen of those districts, returning with delight to a trade their fathers had formerly practised, kept watch in their eyries for the little merchant caravans, to pounce upon them. One day some devout catholics of Valais, on their way to France with a long file of well-laden mules, were stripped by these rough episcopals. Beyond the Fort de l’Ecluse was situated a castle—a thorough den of robbers—belonging to the Seigneur of Avanchi, ‘the cunningest and cruellest man ever known.’ Accompanied by a few savage mercenaries, he would lie in ambush near the high-road, and when travellers appeared, spring from the rocks like a wild beast, ‘tearing out the eyes of some, and cutting off the ears of others.’ D’Avanchi treated in this manner a poor tradesman who had printed some New Testaments;[[645]] and when the judge of the castle remonstrated with him for his cruelty, the seigneur killed him on the spot. He showed no preference, however, so far as religion was concerned. Having fallen in with some nuns one day, he graciously invited them to enter his mansion under pretence of giving them alms, and then maltreated them. The fierce and sensual wild-boar of the Jura was taken to Dôle, and there put to death by order of a catholic tribunal.[[646]]
The bishop now took another step: he ordered the episcopal see to be transferred from Geneva to the town of Gex, at the foot of the Jura, and gave instructions ‘that his council, court, judges, and all other officers should proceed thither.’ In the night of the 24th of September the episcopal officers escaped stealthily, and the city was left not only without prelate, but also without civil judges or courts of appeal. When the news of this flight got abroad in the morning, De la Maisonneuve, Levet, Salomon, and their friends felt an immense relief. At last they were free from that episcopal crew, who had so often caught the Genevese in their toils ‘by frauds and snares.’[[647]] The Council forbade the seals, the symbol of supreme authority, to be taken from Geneva.[[648]] The prince bishop assembled at Gex a great number of priests from the surrounding districts. ‘We must crush that Lutheran sect,’ he told them, ‘by war or otherwise. It is not enough to remain entrenched in our camp, we must force the enemy in theirs.’
Thunderbolts Against Geneva.
Pierre de la Baume launched his thunderbolts at last. In every parish of the Chablais, Faucigny, Gex, and Bugey, in every abbey, priory, and convent, the great excommunication was pronounced in his name, not only against the councils and citizens of Geneva, but against all who should hear the preachers or talk with them, and even against any persons who should enter the city for any purpose whatsoever. Hereafter, the superstitious rural population looked upon Geneva as a place inhabited by devils. Some men of Thonon, more curious than the rest, ventured to pay it a visit, and on their return declared ‘that the preachers were really men and not demons.’ These rash individuals were arrested and taken to Gex, where the bishop sent them to prison;[[649]] and after that time no one dared go to Geneva.
The friends of the Reformation were not discouraged by these hostile acts. ‘By Christmas at the latest,’ they said, ‘all the churches will be empty, and the whole city of one faith.’[[650]] ‘It is all for the best,’ added many. ‘Once upon a time the bishops usurped the franchises of the city; now they return them to us and go away. Well, then, let us do without bishops, and govern ourselves.’ The Council did not think fit to proceed so quickly, and merely resolved ‘that everything should be written down which the bishop had done against the city, by way of precaution against him.’[[651]] When the canons, the representatives of the prelate, assembled for their usual monthly meeting,[[652]] the syndics and council appeared before them: ‘Forsaken by our bishop, who is exciting cruel soldiers against his flock, what shall we do, reverend sirs?’ they asked. ‘The see is vacant: we pray you to recognise the fact, and to elect, as in your privilege, the necessary functionaries for the city, in the place of those who have deserted their office.’[[653]]
The canons having answered in a dilatory manner, the councils, who were always rigid observers of precedent, resolved to apply to the only authority that could decide between them and the bishop. The Genevese appealed to the pope. It was a strange step, but appeals to the Roman pontiff as head of the catholic world, partly founded on the forged decretals of the pseudo Isidore,[[654]] were then in full vigor. That petty people followed the path of legality, and by this means attained their end. The men who have succeeded, remarks an historian, are those who, in the very midst of a revolution, have neither accepted nor adopted a revolutionary policy.[[655]] On the 7th of October, 1534, the syndics and council entered an appeal at Rome, complaining that their bishop had deprived them of their franchises and jurisdiction. It was not a matter of religion, but of policy. The prince of the Vatican was called upon to fulfil his obligations. It was Rome who broke the bond: no answer was returned, which greatly delighted the evangelicals.[[656]]
Proceedings Of The Duke.