CHAPTER I.
THE BISHOP ESCAPES FROM GENEVA, NEVER TO RETURN.
(July 1533.)
Spirit Of The Times.
We have seen the Reformation advancing in the bosom of a great nation; we shall now see it making progress in one of the smallest. The fall of Wolsey in England and the flight of the bishop-prince from Geneva are two historical dates which bear a certain resemblance. After the disappearance of these two prelates, there was a forward movement in men’s minds, and the Reformation advanced with more decided steps. Those two countries are now, as regards their importance, at the two extreme points in the line of nations; but in the sixteenth century the humble city of the Leman played a more important part in the Church of Christ than the mighty England. Calvin and his school did more than the Tudors, the Stuarts, and their divines, to check the reaction of the papacy and secure the triumph of true Christianity. The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries have proclaimed Geneva the antagonist of Rome; and, in truth, the petty band which marched under its banner, held their ground for nearly two centuries against the powerful and well-disciplined army of the Roman pontiffs. We have not forgotten Wittemberg, we shall not forget Geneva. The historian is not allowed to pass by the little ones who have had their share in the developments of the human mind. To those who repose beneath the healthful shade of the great Gospel oak, and under its green boughs, we must relate the story of the acorn from which it sprang. The man who despises humble things cannot understand great things. ‘The Lord,’ says Calvin, ‘purposely made his kingdom to have small and lowly beginnings, in order that his divine power should be better known, when we see a progress that had never been expected.’
On the 1st of July, 1533, the Bishop of Geneva had returned to his city with the aid of the priests, the catholics, the Friburgers, and the ‘mamelukes,’ with the intention of ‘burying that sect,’ as he called the Reformation. Many of the most devoted friends of the Gospel were in exile or in the episcopal prison; hostile bands appeared in the neighborhood of the city, and all expected a victory of the Roman party. The tree was about to be violently uptorn before it had given any shade. But when God has placed a germ of religious, or even of political, life among a people, that life triumphs despite all the opposition of men. There are rocks and mountains which seem as if they would stop the course of the mighty waters, and yet the rivers still run on their way. The exasperated Pierre de la Baume chafed in Geneva, and beat the earth as if to crush reform and liberty beneath his feet; but by so doing he opened a gulf, in which were swallowed up his rights as a prince, his privileges as a bishop, taxes, revenue, priests, monks, mitres, images, altars, and all the religion of the Roman pontiffs.
If the bishop was uneasy, the people were uneasy likewise. It was not only strong men who spoke against the abuses of the papacy, but even women extolled the prerogatives of the evangelical faith. One day (in June or July, 1533) there was a large party at one of their houses, and two gentlemen of the neighboring district, Sire de Simieux and M. de Flacien, ‘besides seven or eight of their varlets,’ were invited. In their presence the wife of Baudichon de la Maisonneuve professed the evangelical truth. De Simieux having reproved the Genevese lady, ‘It is very clear you are a good Papist,’ said she. ‘And that you are a good Lutheran,’ retorted De Simieux. ‘Would to God,’ exclaimed the lady, ‘that we were all so, for it is a good thing and a good law!’[[382]] The two gentlemen had had enough; they took leave of the ladies, and their eight ‘varlets’ followed them. Another incident will still better show the spirit of the times.
An evangelical named Curtet had just been murdered. Many huguenots thought it strange that, while their adversaries struck down a man,—a real image of God,—they must respect images made of wood, canvas, or stone. There was a deservedly celebrated place in Geneva, formerly occupied by the castle of Gondebaud, King of Burgundy, whence his niece Clotilda, one day escaped to marry and convert Clovis. It was a very ancient arcade, only pulled down within these few years,[[383]] and known as the Porte du Château (the castle gate). Near this place stood an image of the Virgin, an object of great veneration.[[384]] On the 12th of July, 1533, some ‘Lutherans,’ believing it to be blasphemy against God to regard the Virgin as ‘the salvation of the world,’ went to the gate, carried away the image, broke it to pieces, and burnt it.
The bishop, feeling that such men as these were capable of anything, resolved to put the imprisoned huguenots beyond their reach. A report soon spread abroad that he was secretly preparing boats to convey the prisoners during the night to Friburg or the castle of Chillon, ‘there to do his pleasure on them.’[[385]] All the huguenot population was in commotion; each man shouldered his arquebuse and joined his company; Philip, the captain-general, ordered the approaches to the lake to be guarded, so as to prevent the captive citizens from being conveyed elsewhere.
Uneasiness In The City.
The noble enthusiasm which the Reformation kindles in the soul uplifts a man; while the philosophic indifference of scholars and priests serves but to degrade him. The Genevans, filled with love for justice and liberty, were ready to risk all that they held most dear in order to prevent innocent citizens from being unjustly condemned, and a prelate sent by the pope from usurping rights which belonged to the magistrates elected by the people. An extraordinary agitation prevailed in men’s minds, and several huguenots proceeded to the shore of the lake. Pierre Verne, taking advantage of the darkness, got into the boats fastened to the bank, and cut the mooring-ropes as well as the cords to which the oars were lashed, so that they were made unserviceable.[[386]] Numerous patrols traversed the streets, the armed men being accompanied by citizens, both young and old, carrying montres de feu, that is, rods tipped with iron, having several lighted matches or port-fires at the end, which were used at that time to discharge the arquebuses. The dreaded hour when the evil use which princes make of their power accelerates their ruin, had arrived at last for the Bishop of Geneva. De la Baume and his partisans, who watched from their windows the passage of these excited bands, were surprised at the number of arquebusiers with which the city was suddenly thronged. ‘They were informed that for each arquebusier there were three or four match-men, which caused great alarm to those in the palace.’ A comet that appeared during the month of July alarmed them still more.[[387]] As yet the huguenots wanted a man to lead the way; they were to find him in Baudichon de la Maisonneuve.