Not without reason were the catholics alarmed. Farel was a hero. A work that is beginning requires one of those strong men who, by the energy of their will, surmount all obstacles, and set in motion all the forces of their epoch to carry out the plan they have conceived. Calvin and Luther are the great men of the Reformation in the sixteenth century. Calvin defended it against dangerous enemies; he gave to the renovated Church a body of divinity and a simple powerful constitution. The scriptural faith which he has set forth is making, and will make, the circuit of the world. But when he arrived at Geneva, the Reform was already accomplished outwardly. Farel is really the reformer of that city as well as of other places in Switzerland and France. A noble and simple evangelist, his genius was less great, his name less illustrious than his successor’s; but he ceased not to expose his life in fierce combats for the Saviour, and, in the order of grace, he was in that beautiful country enclosed between the Alps and the Jura what fire is in the order of nature—the most powerful of God’s agents. He was not, as is sometimes imagined, a hot-headed man, liable to fits of violence and temper. With energy he combined prudence—with zeal, impartiality. ‘Would to God,’ he said, on the occasion of his discussion with Furbity, ‘that each man would state each thing without leaning to one side more than to the other.’[[429]] But it must be acknowledged that he had more force than circumspection, and an unparalleled activity was the principal feature of his character. To venture everywhere, to act in all circumstances, to preach in every place, to brave every danger, were his enjoyment and his life. His excessive genius ‘delighted in adventure,’ as was said of a celebrated conqueror, and he was never so truly happy as when he was in the field. Farel began the work, and Calvin completed it.
Another man, a layman, was called to play a part not less important in the Genevan Reformation. It has been remarked[[430]] that in the great revolutions of nations, God sometimes gives not a counsellor to be listened to, but a torrent to be followed. There was indeed in Geneva a mighty torrent rushing towards Reform, and the man who personified that popular force was Baudichon de la Maisonneuve. Noble in heart as in race, at first he had been merely an independent politician and an opponent of the papacy; but, opening his house and his heart to the Gospel, he came to love it more and more every day. Certainly he did not possess all the evangelical graces; he was somewhat of a jester, and might often be found laughing at the superstitions of his times. Occasionally, also, he was violent in his acts and words. But the republican energy that characterized him made him the fittest man to cope with Rome, the Duke, and the Inquisition. Strong, proud, immovable, he was on a small stage, what the Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse were on a larger stage, the patron of evangelical doctrine. Although of noble descent, he was in trade, and had an extensive business. Rich and generous, he provided for the wants of the new creed. The magistrates of the cities with which he had dealings showed him much consideration; and not only did the puissant republic of Berne intercede in his favor, but King Francis I. also. De la Maisonneuve had no doubts about the triumph of the Reformation. One day, as a Lausanne dealer was buying one of his horses, the confident Genevan said to him: ‘You shall pay me when no more masses are celebrated at Lausanne.’ Two or three months later, when settling his accounts at Lyons, he said to one of his correspondents: ‘You shall pay me when the priests in this city are what those in Berne are now.’ This made the bigoted catholics exclaim: ‘He is the cause of the perversion of Geneva. Would to God he had died ten years ago!’[[431]] De la Maisonneuve had much affinity with Berthelier: the latter began the independence of the city, the former introduced the reform. They were both pioneers; but if Berthelier’s death was the most heroic, Baudichon’s life was the most exemplary.
De la Maisonneuve was able, in case of necessity, to unite prudence with energy. On the 21st December, the Dominican having preached with great éclat in the cathedral, some of the reformed said, boldly: ‘Why should not our minister (Farel) preach in the church as well as a popish doctor?’ and invited the reformers to enter the building. The indignant catholics exclaimed: ‘It shall cost us our lives sooner!’ De la Maisonneuve calmed his friends; he wished to try legal means, and ask the magistrates for a church.
The Plot Breaks Out.
The next day he appeared before the council, and handed in the letter from the chiefs of the mighty Bernese republic. ‘What!’ they said, ‘you expel from your city our servants, people attached to the Holy Word, whom we commended to you, and at the same time you tolerate men who blaspheme against God. Your preacher has attacked us; we shall prosecute him, and call upon you to arrest him. Moreover, we ask for a place in which Farel may preach the Gospel publicly.’ The larger portion of the council was astounded at these two requests. They were about to deliberate on them when a commotion was heard in the street. A plot had broken out.
It was near midday. Between eight and nine hundred priests and laymen were going to the bishop’s palace, where they had appointed a meeting. In the palace everything was astir; the cellars were open, and the servants were running about with bottles in their hands. ‘They supplied wine in profusion, and every man promised to do his duty. They were respectable-looking people and well dressed.’ Two hundred men were to stop at St. Pierre’s to attack the heretics in the rear. All the others were to go down to the Molard, ‘burning for the cause of God,’ and attack Baudichon’s house, where Farel was to be found.[[432]]
De la Maisonneuve, understanding what was going on, hastily quitted the council-chamber, and ran to defend his home.[[433]] His first care was to hide Farel as well as he could, and then, while preparations were making to storm his house, he took steps for its defence. But the council, learning what was going on, left the hôtel de ville, and ordered the bishop’s partisans to lay down their arms. It seemed strange to do so, after so many protestations and so much zeal; yet they obeyed. ‘The wicked build triumphs in the air,’ said the huguenots, ‘and all these reports ended in smoke at last.’[[434]]
Farel left his hiding-place and resumed his preachings in the houses; but his audience had a singular appearance. In front of the minister might be seen the proud features of the huguenots, with helmets on their heads, swords by their sides, and some were armed with cuirass, arquebuse, or halberd; for, since the last catholic resort to arms, they feared a surprise. Baudichon watched over the assembly. Wearing an allécret (a sort of light breastplate), and holding a staff in his hand, he ‘set the people in order,’ assigning them their places, and whenever he chanced to hear any conversation, ‘bidding them be silent;’ then Farel would begin to speak and preach the Gospel with boldness.[[435]]
The syndics, placed between the reformers and the catholics, could not tell what to do. If they arrested Furbity, they would exasperate the catholics and Savoyards; if they allowed him to continue his philippics against the reformed, they would offend the huguenots and the Bernese. The Two Hundred therefore resolved to leave the Dominican ostensibly at large, at the same time treating him in reality as a prisoner. He might go where he pleased, but attended by six guards, who followed him even to the foot of the pulpit. ‘Alas!’ exclaimed his friends, ‘they have placed the reverend father in the keeping of the watch!’ On hearing which the monk observed, haughtily: ‘I am under restraint on account of a set of people who are good for nothing.’
Christmas day arrived: the Dominican had ‘a very numerous audience, particularly of women.’ Incense smoked on the altars; the chants resounded in the choir; the faithful had never shown so much fervor, and the monk preached with such warmth that, ‘within the memory of man, there had never been so fine a service.’[[436]] At the same time, Farel, plainly dressed, was preaching in a large room. There was no incense, no tapers, no chanting, but the words of God which stirred men’s consciences. This irritated Furbity still more, and on the last day of the year he exclaimed from the pulpit: ‘All who follow the new law are heretics and the most worthless of men.’[[437]] Thus ended the year 1533.