=GENEVAN ENVOYS IMPRISONED.=
When this deputation reached the castle, the Sire de Lullin and his guests were again occupied in eating, drinking, and banqueting. This intimacy of the lords of Berne with the enemies of Geneva displeased d'Arlod and his colleagues; but all the same they resolved to discharge their mission faithfully. They had not long to wait before they learnt that the Savoyard chiefs had no idea of peace; and that they wanted to crush that sect, rebellious to the laws of the Church,—that sect which they had so long loaded with their contempt, which dismissed the priests, declared its independence of the pope, made laws contrary to those which for centuries had governed Christendom, and pretended to treat with Rome as an equal. Those huguenots had deprived the saints of the honors they had enjoyed, destroyed the images, abolished the mass, and interdicted the sacred rites. What was then to be done, except to treat their deputies as criminals? The Genevan plenipotentiaries asked to see the preliminaries of the peace which it was desired to conclude with them. The Sire de Lullin could not believe his ears, and, bursting with anger, he flew into a passion at their audacity: 'What! rebels dare ask to know the preliminaries!' He ordered them to be seized. It was useless for the Genevans to appeal to the promise that had been given them; Lullin would not hear a word, and, desiring war at any price, was determined to trample under foot the inviolability with which the law of nations invests internuncios. The three Genevans were 'tied and fastened like robbers.'—'Take them to the castle of Chillon,' said Lullin, 'where they will be able to talk with M. de Saint Victor (Bonivard), who has already spent six years there for the business of Geneva.' The three noble citizens were carried off and shut up in the fortress of Chillon. It was the opinion then at Coppet, as it had been a century before at Constance, 'that no one is bound to keep faith with heretics.'[669]
De la Maisonneuve and his officers waited impatiently for the return of their delegates; the time slipped away, and they did not appear. The fear of deplorable events began to disturb the least credulous minds. 'It is probable,' said some, 'that this is a going which will have no returning.'[670] The commander sent the trumpeter, Ami Voullier, to inquire what was going on—a duty belonging in those days to his office. Voullier, either because he inclined to the worse side, or was bribed by the enemy, or suffered himself to be deceived by some crafty Savoyard, returned and reported that the gentlemen at the castle were occupied in drawing up the articles of peace; and that the place was not undefended, for he had seen in the vineyards round about it more soldiers than vinestocks. He added that, as peace was about to be concluded, the presence of armed men who were not to fight was useless, and that the best thing would be for every man to return home. The most pacific of the Genevans, believing their delegates to be really occupied in drawing up a real treaty, insisted upon returning to the city. An experienced and clear-sighted commander, a man of superior mind, would not have been satisfied with the trumpeter's report. He would not have left the place without being put in direct communication with the three plenipotentiaries. If he had discovered the governor's perfidy, he would have been able, especially with the support of the Swiss, to surround the castle, capture the governor and his suite, and the Bernese themselves, and not release them until he had obtained the deliverance of his envoys. Even if it were true that they were discussing a treaty of peace, would it not have been of advantage for the forces of Geneva to remain near Coppet to add strength to the representations of their delegates? De la Maisonneuve was a good citizen, a good protestant, and a soldier, but he was neither a great general nor a keen diplomatist. Besides, a noble simplicity of heart does not suspect dissimulation. Those proud huguenots, who erred sometimes through too much violence, erred now through too much simplicity. It was decided that, as peace was going to be signed, the Genevans should return home. The corps started for Geneva. This error weighed heavily upon Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, and troubled him all the rest of his life.
=THE SWISS VOLUNTEERS DUPED.=
The skilful diplomatists assembled at Coppet, having thus got rid of the Genevese, undertook to rid themselves in a similar manner of the Swiss cantoned at Founex. Some of them, going to Wildermuth's little army, said: 'Peace is concluded. All soldiers must now return home. The city of the huguenots will now be free. You have fairly acquired the right to enjoy repose. Moreover, the governor of Vaud undertakes to pay the expense of your journey.' The Swiss gave way like the Genevans. An heroic victory was succeeded by a diplomatic defeat. If the honest have their power, the cunning have theirs also. It is the fate of humble and sincere individuals and nations to be sometimes mystified by the adroit and powerful. As regards the Swiss, the last verse of the war-song of Gingins shows that, if they turned their steps homewards, it was because of their conviction that the deliverance of Geneva was secured.
'Finish the matter,' we said, 'in order that the city of Geneva may be delivered—that is all we ask; that peace may be secured to her, so that the Word of God may be preached within her walls in all liberty, that the Lord's fold may be saved, and then we shall return joyful to our homes.'[671]
But these strains were the illusions of honorable minds. If arms had wrought the triumph of right and liberty at Gingins, policy had procured the triumph of fraud and despotism at Coppet.
Still one question arises. Was the battle of Gingins useless? No, for it saved Geneva. The bravery of the Swiss and their victory were deeply imprinted in the minds of the population of Vaud. They talked of it in villages and castles, and even in Savoy. Accordingly, some months later, when an army sent by the Councils of Berne appeared in the country, no one dared measure himself with it, the bravery of the Swiss still freezing all hearts with terror.
Louis of Diesbach and his colleagues, who arrived at Geneva the day after the treason of Coppet, proposed to the council a treaty with the duke, stipulating, among other things, that the traitors of Peney should be restored to their privileges. 'What!' said the premier Syndic, 'you have sent back those who were coming to our help, and you claim to place within our walls those who will never cease from making war on us!'[672] De la Maisonneuve, discovering that the trumpeter had made a false report, and that his troops, instead of returning to Geneva, ought to have marched upon Coppet, could not contain his sorrow and rage. He declared the man guilty of high-treason, and many persons joined with him in demanding Ami Voullier's head. His life was, however, spared, but he lost the esteem of his fellow-citizens.[673]
The indignation of the magistrates and of the chiefs of the soldiery was trifling compared with the anger of the people. The thought that the envoys had been shut up within the walls of Chillon made all their hearts burn. 'Let us make reprisals,' said the relatives of the victims to the syndics, 'and to make sure that they will restore us our fellow-citizens, let us seize hostages who are as good as they.' Three notable men, at that time within the reach of the Genevans—M. de Sales, the Bastard of Wufflens, and M. de Montfort—were laid hold of.[674] The last-named was a monk of the convent of St. Jean, situated on the heights bathed by the blue waters of the Rhone, at the gates of Geneva, although within the duke's territories. The people do not weigh the claims of justice so calmly as wise men in council. The flames which burnt in every heart broke out all of a sudden. There was shouting and assembling. The popular waves rose higher from street to street, tossing and foaming. 'Shall we leave at the very gates of the city,' was the cry, 'a building whence the enemy can make his artillery bear upon us?' The crowd rushed to St. Jean, scaled the walls, seized De Montfort, climbed on the roof, broke, demolished, and threw down everything, and did not stop until the convent was in ruins. The crime of Coppet produced the execution at St. Jean. Popular indignation did not reflect that in all states, and especially in republics, nothing should be done except by the law.