Chapter XXII

CHARLES DESIRES TO SEDUCE THE GENEVANS. THE MYSTERIES OF THE CANONS AND OF THE HUGUENOTS.

(AUGUST 1523.)

The duke, seeing that the Genevese commune was seriously weakened, had formed new plans for definitively seizing the sovereignty, and of expelling both liberty and the tendencies towards the Reformation, with which, according to Charles III. and Charles V., this restless city was infected. Magnificence, fêtes, grandeur, flattery, seduction, and perfidy were all to be brought into play, and for that end Charles possessed new resources. He had just married Beatrice of Portugal, whose sister was about to be united to the Emperor Charles V. Beatrice, a woman of great beauty, proud, ambitious, and domineering, required everything to bend before her; Charles, a man of no will, found one in this princess; and the conspiracy of Savoy against Genevan independence entered into a new phase, which threatened to be marked by great reverses. After a few months of wedlock, the duke expressed a desire to present the beautiful duchess to his good friends of Geneva, and made preparations for displaying all the pomps and seductions of a court in order to win them over. And more than this: the duchess expected to be brought to bed in December: it was now August (1523); if she had a boy in Geneva, would not these worthy burgesses be happy, nay proud, to have for their prince a son of Savoy born within their walls? And would not the child’s uncle, the mighty emperor, have a word to say then in his favour in that ancient imperial city which still bore the eagle on its shield? Every means was set to work to carry out this court manœuvre.

The duke had calculated rightly when reckoning on republican vanity. Every one was busied in preparing to receive the prince, with his wife and courtiers, for the Genevese desired that the pomps of this fête should infinitely surpass those of the bishop’s reception. There were (so to say) two men in these citizens: one, full of lofty aspirations, longed for truth and liberty; but the other, full of vanity and fond of pleasure, allowed himself to be seduced by luxury and the diversions of a court. The duke and the bishop would never have succeeded in ruining Geneva; but if Geneva united with them, her ruin seemed inevitable. All heads were turned. ‘I shall be dressed more expensively than you on the day of the duchess’s entrance,’ said Jean de Malbuisson to Jean Philippe, afterwards first syndic. Upon which, Philippe, one of the proudest huguenots, ordered a magnificent dress of satin, taffeta, velvet, and silver, which cost him forty-eight crowns of the sun. Malbuisson was filled with jealousy and anger, and the syndics were compelled to interfere to appease this strife of vanity.[312] These vain republicans, charmed at the honour to be done them by the daughter of the king of Portugal, wished to strew her path with roses. Portugal, governed by the famous dynasty of Aviz, renowned by the expeditions of Diaz, Vasco de Gama, and Cabral, and by the conquests of Albuquerque, was then overflowing with riches, was a naval power of the first order, and was at the height of its greatness. It was no small thing in the eyes of the burgesses of the city of the Leman that the glory, which filled the most distant seas with its splendour, should shed a few sparks of its brilliancy on the shores of an unknown lake. The duke had no doubt that these citizens, so fond of pleasure, would quietly submit to the claims which beauty laid upon them, and that Geneva would be his.

At last the 4th of August arrived, and all the city hastened to the banks of the Arve to meet the young and charming duchess; the women had the foremost place in this Genevese procession. A battalion of amazons, composed of three hundred of the youngest and most beautiful persons in Geneva, appeared first. They wore the colours of the duchess, blue and white; their skirts, as was the fashion with the warlike damsels of antiquity, were tucked up to the knee; and each one carried in her right hand a javelin, and in her left a small shield. At the head as captain was the wife of the Seignior d’Avully, who, being a Spaniard, could speak to the duchess in her own language: in the middle was the standard-bearer, ‘a tall and beautiful woman, waving the colours like a soldier who had done nothing else all his life.’

The duchess appeared, seated in a triumphal chariot drawn by four horses, and so covered with cloth of gold and jewels that all eyes were dazzled. The duke rode by her side on a mule richly caparisoned, and a multitude of noblemen followed them in magnificent attire, smiling and talking to one another: the good-humoured simplicity of these republicans charmed them. They said that if they had failed with the sword, they would succeed with jewellery, feathers, and display; and that this rebellious city would be too happy, in exchange for the amusements they would give, to receive the duke and pay court to the pope. Everything had been arranged to make the poison enter their hearts by mild and subtle means. The triumphal car having halted at Plainpalais, the queen of the amazons approached the duchess and said:

En ce pays soyez la bienvenue!...

with other verses which we spare the reader. When the princess arrived before the chapel of the Rhone, where stood an image of the Virgin with the child Jesus in her arms, a sibyl appeared and said:

For thee I have obtained a boon divine:--
The Son of God before thine eyes shall shine....
Look up ... see him to Mary’s bosom pressed,
The Virgin who hath borne him for our rest;
With great devotion Mary’s son adore,
And he shall open wide to thee heaven’s door.

The procession passed successively under six triumphal arches, dedicated to illustrious princesses, before each of which Beatrice had to stop and hear a new compliment. But it was labour lost: the haughty Portuguese woman, far from thanking the ladies, did not even look at them; and when the men came forward in their turn in those magnificent dresses which had cost them so much money and contention, the duchess received the _shopkeepers_ with still greater contempt. A deep feeling of discontent immediately replaced the general enthusiasm: ‘She takes us for her slaves, in Portugal fashion,’ exclaimed one of the proudest of the huguenots. ‘Let us show her that we are free men. Come, ladies, I advise you to return to your spinning; and as for us, my friends, we will pull down the galleries and destroy the theatres.’ And then he whispered to one of his neighbours: ‘Better employ our money in fortifying the city, and compelling these Savoyards to keep outside. You entice them in ... take care they do not burn you in your own straw.’ The duke’s counsellors began to feel alarmed. The mine which they fancied had been so skilfully dug, threatened to blow them all into the air. Yet a few more mistakes of this kind and all was lost.... Some of the courtiers endeavoured to excuse the haughty manners of Beatrice by telling the citizens: _Che eran los costumbres de Portugal._ ‘They were the fashions of Portugal.’ The duke conjured his wife to make an effort to win back their hearts.[313]

Doubts were beginning at that time to be circulated concerning the attachment of Geneva to the papacy. Charles and his courtiers had heard something of this; and the desire to keep the city in the fold of Rome for ever had a great share, as we have remarked, in their chivalrous enterprise. The mamelukes and the canons, ashamed of these rumours, had prepared a mystery-play calculated to make the duke and duchess believe that the Genevans thought much more of seeking crosses and other relics than of finding that New Testament so long unknown and about which they were talking so much in Germany. Accordingly, when the procession arrived at the Place du Bourg de Four, they saw a large scaffold, a kind of house, open on the side next the spectators, and divided into several stories. The triumphal car halted, and the people of Geneva who were afterwards to show the world another spectacle, began to perform the ‘Invention of the Cross.’

The first scene represents Jerusalem, where the Emperor Constantine and Helena, his mother, have arrived to make search for the precious relic.

CONSTANTINE _to the Jews_.

Come tell me, Jews, what did you do
With the cross whereon by you
Christ was hanged so cruelly?

THE JEWS, _trembling_.

Dear emperor, assuredly
We do not know.

CONSTANTINE.

You lie.
You shall suffer for this by-and-by.

(_To his guards._)

Shut them in prison instantly.

The Jews are put into prison; and this is a lesson to show what ought to be done to those who pay no respect to the wood that Helena had come to worship.

A JEW _from the window_.

Judas the president am I,
And if you will let me go
I by signs most clear will show
Where my father saw it hid.

CONSTANTINE.

Out then; we the cross will seek,
And they shall linger here the while.

The next scene represents Golgotha. The emperor, Helena, and their train follow the Jew.

JUDAS.

Mighty emperor, here’s the spot
Where the cross by stealth was put
With other two.

CONSTANTINE.

Good!
Let the earth be dug around,
And the cross be quickly found.

A LABOURER _digs up three crosses_.

This is all.

CONSTANTINE, _puzzled to know which is the true cross_.

To prove the story true
Still remains.... What shall we do?

HELENA.

My dear son, pray hold your tongue.

(_She orders a dead body to be brought._)

To this corpse we will apply
These three crosses carefully,
And, if I be not mistaken,
At the touch it will awaken.

(_The three crosses are applied, and when the third touches the body it is
restored to life._)

HELENA.

O wonderful!

(_Helena takes the true cross in her arms._)

CONSTANTINE _kneels and worships it_.

O cross of Christ, how great thy power!
In this place I thee adore;
May my soul be saved by thee!

HELENA.

The cross hath brought to us God’s grace,
The cross doth every sin efface.
Here’s the proof....

Thus, therefore, the Genevese believed in the miracles worked by the wood of the cross. How, after such manifest proof, should not the world see that Geneva was free from heresy?[314]

The procession and the princess resumed their march. They stopped before the hôtel-de-ville, and there the syndics made Beatrice a present from the city, which she received _pleasantly_ according to the lesson the duke had given her. However, she could hold up no longer: exhausted with fatigue, she begged to be conducted to her lodging. They proceeded accordingly towards the Dominican convent, where apartments had been prepared for the duke and duchess. This monastery, situated without the city, on the banks of the Rhone, was one of the most corrupt but also one of the richest in the diocese. Here they arrived at last, Charles as delighted as Beatrice was wearied. ‘The flies are caught by the honey,’ said the duke; ‘yet a few more fêtes, and these proud Genevans will become our slaves.’

He lost no time, and, full of confidence in the _prestige_ of Portugal, the brilliancy of his court, and the graces of his duchess, he began to give ‘great banquets, balls, and fêtes.’ Beatrice, having learnt that it was necessary to win hearts in order to win Geneva, showed herself agreeable to the ladies, and entertained them with ‘exquisite viands,’ followed by ballets, masquerades, and plays. On his part the duke organised tournaments with a great concourse of noble cavaliers, assembled from all the castles of the neighbouring provinces, and in which the youth of Geneva contended with the lords of the court. ‘We have never been so well amused since the time of Duke Philibert,’ said the young Genevans. To the allurements of pleasure Savoy added those of gain. The court, which was ‘large and numerous,’ spent a great deal of money in the city, and thus induced all those to love it who had given up their minds to the desire for riches. Finally the attractions of ambition were added to all the rest. To souls thirsting for distinction Geneva could offer only a paltry magistracy, whilst, by yielding themselves to Savoy, they might aspire to the greatest honours; accordingly the notables and even the syndics laid themselves at the feet of the duke and duchess. ‘The prince was better obeyed at Geneva than at Chambéry,’ says Bonivard. Everything led the politicians to expect complete success. That bold soaring towards independence and the Gospel, so displeasing to the duke, the king of France, and the emperor, was about to be checked; and those alarming liberties, which had slept for ages, but which now aspired after emancipation, would be kept in restraint and subjection.[315]

The calculations of the princes of Savoy were not, however, so correct as they imagined. A circumstance almost imperceptible might foil them. Whilst the cabinet of Turin had plotted the ruin of Geneva, God was watching over its destinies. Shortly before the entry of the bishop and the duke, another power had arrived in Geneva; that power was the Gospel. Towards the end of the preceding year, in October and November 1522, Lefèvre published his French translation of the New Testament. At the same time the friends of the Word of God, being persecuted at Paris, had taken refuge in different provinces. A merchant named Vaugris, and a gentleman named Du Blet, were at Lyons, despatching thence missionaries and New Testaments into Burgundy and Dauphiny, to Grenoble and Vienne.[316] In the sixteenth century as in the second, the Gospel ascended the Rhone. From Lyons and Vienne came in 1523 to the shores of Lake Leman that Word of God which had once destroyed the superstitions of paganism, and which was now to destroy the excrescences of Rome. ‘Some people called evangelicals came from France,’ says a _Memoir to the Pope on the Rebellion of Geneva_ in the archives of Turin. The names of the pious men who first brought the Holy Scriptures to the people of Geneva, have been no better preserved than the names of the missionaries of the second century: it is generally in the darkness of night that beacon fires are kindled. Some Genevans ‘talked with them and bought their books,’ adds the MS. Thus, while the canons were assisting in the representation of time-worn fables, and holding up as an example the piety of those who had sought for the cross in the bowels of the earth, more elevated souls in Geneva were seeking for the cross in the Scriptures. One of the first to welcome these biblical colporteurs was Baudichon de la Maison-Neuve, a man bold and ardent even to imprudence, but true, upright, and generous. He was enraptured to find in the Gospel the strength he needed to attack the superstitions of old times, which filled him with instinctive disgust. Robert Vandel did the same. Syndic in 1529, and employed in all the important affairs of the time, he found in these works which had come from Lyons a means of realising his ideal, which was to make Geneva a republic independent in religion as well as in politics. These noble-hearted men and many besides them read the Scriptures with astonishment. They sought, but they could find no Roman religion there--no images, no mass, no pope; but they found an authority and power above prelates and councils and pontiffs, and even princes themselves--a new authority, new doctrine, new life, new church ... and all these new things were the old things which the apostles had founded. It was as if the quickening breath of spring had begun to be felt in the valley after the rigours of a long winter. They went out into the open air; they basked in the rays of the sun; they exercised their benumbed limbs. Priests and bigot laymen looked with astonishment at this new spectacle. What! they had hoped that the pompous entrance of Charles and Beatrice would secure their triumph, and now an unknown book, entering mysteriously into the city, without pomp, without display, without cloth of gold, borne humbly on the back of some poor pedlar, seemed destined to produce a greater effect than the presence of the brother-in-law of Charles V. and of the daughter of the kings of Portugal.... Was the victory to slip from their hands in the very hour of success? Was Geneva destined to be anything more than a little city in Savoy and a parish of the pope’s?... Disturbed at this movement of men’s minds, some of the papal agents hastened to write to Rome: ‘What a singular thing! a new hope has come to these dejected rebels.... And to those books which have been brought from France and which they buy of the evangelicals, the Genevans look for their enfranchisement.’[317]

In fact, the triumph of the duke, the duchess, and their court, who had succeeded in leading certain Genevans into dissipation and servility, exasperated the huguenots: they never met without giving vent, as they grasped each other’s hands, to some expression of scorn or sorrow. Among them was Jean Philippe, several times elected captain-general. He was not one of those whom the Holy Scriptures had converted: he was a rich and generous citizen, full of courage and a great friend of liberty; but loving better to pull down than to build up, and carrying boldness even to rashness. He proposed that they should give a lesson to the mamelukes and priests, ‘and undertook to bear all the expenses.’ Other huguenots, more moderate, and above all more pious, held it of importance to make known the impressions they had received from the Gospel. The Word of God having touched their hearts, they desired to show that it was a remedy for all the ills of humanity. Seeing that everybody was eager to entertain the duke and duchess, they resolved to add their dish also to the banquet, seasoning it however with a few grains of salt. Instead of the discovery of the cross by Helena, they will celebrate the discovery of the Bible by the Reformation. The subject was not ill-chosen, as it brought out strongly the contrast between the old and the new times. The huguenots therefore informed the duke that they were desirous of performing a mystery-play in his honour in the open air on the Sunday after a certain holiday called Les Bordes. Jean Philippe having generously provided for all the expenses, the young men learnt their parts, and everything was ready for the representation.

It was fair-time at Geneva, and consequently a great crowd of Genevans and strangers soon gathered round the theatre: the Bishop of Maurienne arrived; lords and ladies of high descent took their seats; but they waited in vain for the duke, who did not appear. ‘We shall not go, neither the duchess nor myself,’ he said, ‘because the performers are huguenots.’ Charles, knowing his men well, feared some snake in the grass. The huguenot who had composed the piece represented the state of the world under the image of a _disease_, and the Reformation as the _remedy_ by which God desired to cure it; the subject and title of his drama was _Le Monde Malade_, the Sick World, and everything was to appear--priests, masses, the Bible and its followers. The principal character, _Le Monde_ (the World), had heard certain monks, terrified at the books which had lately come from France, announce that the last days were at hand, and that the World would soon perish. It was to be burnt by fire and drowned by water.... This was too much for him; he trembled, his health declined, and he pined away. The people about him grew uneasy, and one of them exclaimed:

The World grows weaker every day;
What he will come to, who can say?

He had however some friends, and each of them brought him a new remedy; but all was useless--the World grew worse and worse. He decided then to resort to the sovereign universal remedy, by which even the dead are saved, namely, masses. The Romish worship, assailed by the reformers, was now on its trial in the streets of Geneva.

THE WORLD.

Come, Sir Priest, pull out your wares--
Your masses, let me see them all.

PRIEST, _delighted to see the World apply to him_.

May God give you joy! but how
You like them I should wish to know.

THE WORLD.

I like them just as others do.

PRIEST.

Short?

THE WORLD.

Yes, short.

PRIEST, _showing him some masses_.

Then here’s the thing for you.

THE WORLD, _rejecting them with alarm_.

Than these no sermon can be longer.

PRIEST, _showing others_.

Here are others.

THE WORLD, _refusing them_.

No! no! no!

PRIEST, _finding that the World wants neither long nor short masses_.

What you want you do not know.

Then _Le Conseiller_ (the Counsellor), a wise and enlightened man, recommends a new remedy, one both harmless and effectual, which is beginning to make a great noise.

What is it, say?

asks the World; the Counsellor answers:

A thing which no man dares gainsay ...
THE BIBLE.

The World does not know what this new medicine means: another character strives in vain to inspire him with confidence:

Believe me, Mr. World, there’s not a fool
But knows it.

The World will not have it at any price. It was known already at Geneva in 1523 that the world was giving a bad reception to the Gospel: ‘They shall say all manner of evil against you, and shall persecute you.’ As he could not be cured by the priests, and would not be cured by the Bible, the World called in the Doctor (_le Médecin_), and carefully described his disease:

I am so troubled, and teased, and tormented,
With all the rubbish that they have invented ...
That flat here on my bed I lie.

DOCTOR.

What rubbish?

THE WORLD.

That a _deluge_ by-and-by
Will come, and that a _fire_ to boot
Will burn us all both branch and root.

But the Doctor happens to be (as was often the case in the sixteenth century) one of those who believe the text of the Bible to be infallible; he begins to paint the liveliest picture of the disorders of the clergy, in order to induce his patient to take the remedy prescribed for him:

Why are you troubled, Sir World, at that?
Do not vex yourself any more
At seeing these rogues and thieves by the score
Buying and selling the cure of souls ...
Children still in their nurses’ arms
Made abbots and bishops and priors...

* * * * *

For their pleasure they kill their brothers,
Squander their own goods and seize another’s;
To flattering tongues they lend their ear;
For the merest trifle they kindle the flame
Of war, to the shame of the christian name.[318]

The World, astonished at a description so far from catholic, becomes suspicious, thinks the language heretical, and exclaims:

... Mere fables these:
From the land of LUTHER they came.

DOCTOR.

Upon Luther’s back men lay the blame,
If you speak of sin....

At Geneva, therefore, as well as in all the catholic world, Luther was already known as the man who laid bare sins. The Doctor did not allow himself to be disconcerted by this charge of Lutheranism:

World, would you like to be well once more?

THE WORLD, _with firmness_.

Yes!

DOCTOR.

Then think of abuses what a store
Are daily committed by great and small,
And _according to law_ reform them all.

This was demanding a Reformation. The huguenots (_Eidguenots_) applauded; the foreign merchants were astonished; the courtiers of Savoy, and even Maurienne himself, smiled. Still Maison-Neuve, Vandel, Bernard, and all those who had ‘talked with’ the evangelicals, and especially the author of the drama, knew the difficulties the Reformation would have to encounter in Geneva.

The World, irritated against these laymen who turn preachers, exclaims:

This impudent doctor so mild of speech,
I asked him to cure me, not to _preach_.
The fool!

Another personage, alarmed at so unprecedented a thing:

Good heavens! it can’t be true.

THE WORLD.

True enough; but as for his preaching now,
I’d rather be led by a fool, I vow,
Than a preacher.

FRIENDS OF THE WORLD.

That’s quite right;
Live by the rule of your appetite.

THE WORLD.

That will I!...

Whereupon the World puts on a fool’s dress, and the burlesque ends.

It is too true that the world, after the Reformation, put on a fool’s dress in various places, particularly in France. What was the house of Valois but a house of fools? And yet a divine wisdom had then entered the world, and remains in it still, for the healing of nations. From the beginning of 1523, the great principle of protestantism which declares Scripture to be the only source and rule of truth, in opposition to that of Roman Catholicism, which substitutes the authority of the Church, was recognised in Geneva. The ‘text of the Bible’ was publicly declared ‘an irreproachable thing’ and the only remedy for the cure of diseased humanity. And what, at bottom, was this burlesque of the huguenots but a lay sermon on the text: _The law of the Lord converteth the soul_? It is good to observe the date, as it is generally thought that the Reformation did not begin till much later in the city of Calvin. This ‘mystery’ of a new kind did not remain without effect; the evangelicals had taken up their position; the ram, armed with its head of brass, that was to batter and throw down the walls of Rome--the infallible Bible, had appeared. Jean Philippe felt that the piece had not cost him too dear.

The stage of the _Monde Malade_ had scarcely been pulled down, when the citizens had to think of something else besides plays. The Savoyards, who did not like the dish served up to them, and thought they smelt the poison of heresy in it, resolved to avenge themselves by making the weight of their yoke felt. Two words comprehend the whole policy of these soldiers and courtiers: despotism of the prince, servility of the people. They undertook to mould the Genevans to their system. With haughty mien and arrogant tone they were continually picking quarrels with the citizens; they called everything too dear that was sold them, they got into a passion and struck the shopkeepers, and the latter, who had no arms, were obliged at first to put up with these insults. But erelong every one armed himself, and the tradesmen, raising their heads, crossed swords with these insolent lords. There was a great uproar in the city. Irritated at this resistance, the grand-master of the court hastened to the council: ‘The duke and duchess came here,’ he said, ‘thinking to be with friends.’ The council ordered the citizens to be arrested who had struck the gentlemen, and the Savoyard quarter-master undertook to lock them up, which the Genevan quarter-master resisted. The duke, in a passion, threatened to bring in his subjects ‘to pillage the place.’ There was some reason, it must be confessed, to desire a little tranquillity. ‘The duchess is willing to do us the honour of being brought to bed in this city,’ said Syndic Baud to the people; ‘please do not make any disturbance; and as soon as you hear the bells and trumpets, go in procession with tapers and torches, and pray to God for her.’

The ‘honour’ which the duchess was about to confer on Geneva did not affect the Genevans. The most courageous citizens, Aimé Lévrier, John Lullin, and others, were superior to all such seductions. Faithful interpreter of the law, calm but intrepid guardian of the customs and constitutions, Lévrier continually reminded the council that Charles was not sovereign in Geneva. While avoiding a noisy opposition, he displayed unshrinking firmness; and accordingly the duke began to think that he could only become prince of the city by passing over his body. Lullin was not a jurist like Lévrier, but active, practical, and energetic; at every opportunity he manifested his love of liberty, and sometimes did so with rudeness. Although prior of the confraternity of St. Loup, he was at the same time landlord of the _Bear_ inn, which, according to the manners of those days, was not incompatible with a high position in the city. One day when his stables were full of horses belonging to a poor Swiss carrier, some richly-dressed gentlemen of Savoy alighted noisily before the inn and prepared to put up their horses. ‘There is no room, gentlemen!’ said Lullin roughly. ‘They are the duke’s horses,’ replied the courtiers. ‘No matter,’ returned the energetic huguenot. ‘First come, first served. I would rather lodge carriers than princes.’ At that time Charles was raising six thousand men, to be present in Geneva at his child’s christening, and the cavaliers probably belonged to this body. But the huguenots thought it too much to have six thousand godfathers armed from head to foot, and it was probably this that put Lullin in bad humour. Charles was weak but violent; he stamped his foot when told of the insult offered to his servants, cast a furious glance over the city, and exclaimed with an oath: ‘I will make this city of Geneva smaller than the smallest village in Savoy.’[319] Many trembled when they heard of the threat, and the council, to pacify the prince, sent Lullin to prison for three days.

At length the great event arrived on which the hopes of Savoy reposed. On the 2nd December one of the duke’s officers informed the syndics that the duchess had been delivered at noon of a prince. Immediately the bells were rung, the trumpets sounded: bishop, canons, priests, monks, confraternities, boys and girls dressed in white and carrying tapers in their hands, all walked in long procession. Bonfires were lighted in every open place, and the cannons on the esplanade (La Treille) which looks towards Savoy announced to that faithful country that the duke had a son.[320] ‘As he was born in Geneva,’ said the courtiers to one another, ‘the citizens cannot refuse him for their prince.’[321] The duchess had the matter very much at heart, and erelong, richly apparelled and seated in her bed, as was the custom, she would say in the frivolous conversations she had with the persons admitted to pay their court to her: ‘This city is a _buena posada_’ (a very good inn). The delighted duke replied: ‘Geneva shall be yours,’ which she was very pleased to hear.[322]

Everything in Geneva and even in Europe seemed to favour the designs of Savoy. Charles V. the duke’s brother-in-law, and Francis I. his nephew, were preparing for the war in Lombardy. The struggle between the pope and Luther occupied men’s minds. The Swiss were ‘in great care and discord, city divided against city, and one against another in the same city.’ Bishop Pierre de la Baume was fickle, worldly, fond of gambling, of feasting, of waiting upon the ladies, and of pursuing other pleasures which diverted him from better occupations. Timid and even fearful, changing like a weathercock with every wind, he dreaded above all things to lose the benefices he possessed in the territory of his Highness. All this permitted Charles--at least he thought so--quietly to invade Geneva and unite it to Savoy without Europe’s saying a word. To have his hands still freer, he persuaded De la Baume that his presence in Italy was necessary for the emperor’s service.[323] That done, and thinking the fruit ripe and ready to fall, the duke and duchess made preparations for striking the final blow. They clearly saw the hostile disposition of many of the Genevans; but that was only an additional reason for increased exertions. If, now that a prince of Savoy was born in Geneva, the duke failed in his projects, everything would be lost for many a day. The cue was therefore given to all the Savoyard nobility. The beauty of their gold pieces dazzled the shopkeepers; sports, dinners, balls, masquerades, plays, tournaments, pomp, finery, pleasures, luxuries, and all the allurements which seduce men (say contemporary writers), captivated the worldly and particularly the youth. Some few huguenots talked loudly of independence; some old Genevans still strove to retain their sons; some venerable mothers, seeing their children setting out for the court dressed in their gayest clothes, asked them if they did not blush for the old manners of their fathers,--if they desired to sell their free souls and become the servants of princes?... But all was useless. ‘It is like throwing water on a ball,’ said the afflicted parents; ‘not a drop stays there.’--‘What would you have?’ replied these giddy youths. ‘It is stronger than us. As soon as the charms of the world appear, our appetites carry us away, like runaway horses.’

The monks did not remain behind in this work of corruption. On the 20th of May the Dominicans celebrated the Feast of St. Ives, and invited the youth to one of those notorious vigils where all sorts of abominations were practised. The syndics complained ineffectually to the vicar-general of the scandalous lives (_sceleratæ vitæ_) of these friars. ‘Go to the convent and remonstrate with them,’ said this ecclesiastic. And when the syndics went there, the prior acknowledged that the monks led a dissolute life, but, he added, ‘it is to no purpose that I speak to them of correction; they answer that, if I do not hold my tongue, they will turn me out of the monastery.’[324] By their vices the clergy were digging a gulf beneath their feet, into which they would drag everything--doctrine, worship, and Church. All appeared to combine for the enslavement of Geneva. Neither the emperor, nor the king, nor the pope, nor the bishop, nor the Swiss, nor even the Genevese themselves, watched over the independence of the city. The living waters of the Gospel alone could purify these Augean stables. ‘God only remained,’ said Bonivard; ‘but while Geneva slept, He kept watch for her.’[325]

Geneva was indeed about to wake up. The enervating dreams of the ‘golden youth’ were beginning to fade away. Not only those to whom the New Testament had been brought, not only the friends of independence, but thoughtful men of order and of law were going to oppose the duke. A new martyr was to fertilise a generous soil with his blood, and prepare the final victory of right and liberty.