Chapter XV

THE SUBURBS OF GENEVA ARE DEMOLISHED AND THE ADVERSARIES MAKE READY.
(SEPTEMBER 1534 TO JANUARY 1535.)

Baudichon de la Maisonneuve and Janin re-entered Geneva the day after that on which the final order to demolish the suburbs was given. The captain of the Lutherans was restored to his country at the very moment when the deadliest blows were aimed at it. The coincidence was remarkable. The return of these two energetic citizens could not but give a fresh impetus to the resolution to sacrifice one half of the city in order to save the other. The first walls destined to fall were those of the monastery of St. Victor, which, as it stood at the gate of the city, might easily be occupied by the enemy’s army as an advanced post.[637] There were no tears shed over the destruction of that building, except such as might have been drawn down by the thought of its antiquity. Ever since Bonivard the prior had been prisoner at Chillon, the monks had shaken off every kind of restraint, and the monastery had become a sty of scandals and disorders. The friars had been in the habit of frequenting certain houses of ill fame in their suburbs; but now the convent was the scene of their continual orgies. No sooner was there a talk of destroying that nest of debauchery than the reprobates exhibited the most insatiable greediness. The monks and their mistresses began to pillage the monastery; they tore down and carried away everything that was of any value; at night, and sometimes even during the day, they were seen leaving the monastery with bundles, and hiding their plunder in the adjoining houses. The priory was thus not only emptied, but almost stripped to the bare walls.[638] What an ignoble fall was that of these pretended religious orders! Notwithstanding their robbery, the Council assigned the monks a residence in the city, and even a chapel, which was more than they deserved.

Then every man put his hand to the work. All was life and animation on those beautiful heights whence the eye takes in the lake, the Alps, the Jura, and the valley lying between them. First, the church was pulled down, and then the priory, and nothing was left but rubbish which encumbered the ground. That building, the most ancient in Geneva, was founded at the beginning of the sixth century by Queen Sedeleuba, sister of Queen Clotilda, in memory of the victories of her brother-in-law, Clovis;[639]—that temple where the body of St. Victor had been deposited during the night, and which (as it was said) a light from heaven pointed out to strangers,—that sanctuary to which the great ones of the earth had gone as pilgrims, was now an undistinguishable ruin. That monument, erected to commemorate the triumph of orthodoxy defended by Clovis over Arianism professed by Gondebald, crumbled to the ground, after lasting more than a thousand years, in the midst of the libertinism of its monks. A crown had been placed on the cradle of St. Victor—a rod should have been placed upon its ruins.

[Sidenote: Lamentations Of The Dead.]

Yet things that have been great in the eyes of men do not always end like those that have been vulgar. One day a strange report, set afloat by the monks and nuns, circulated through the city. During the night, voices, groans, and lamentations had been heard among the ruins of St. Victor. The wind, when it blows strong over those heights, often resembles the human voice. The devotees listened: again the plaintive tones were heard, and agitated them. ‘Ah!’ they exclaimed, ‘it is the dead groaning, and not without reason, because their repose has been disturbed.’ The crowd increased, and ere long ‘the ghosts were plainly lamenting, not only by night, but by day.’ If the dead lamented over the fall of St. Victor, the living had reason to weep still more over the church, whose monks had been its disgrace instead of its glory.

After the priory, the houses nearest to the city were pulled down one by one. When the citizens, wearied by their labors, sat down on the ruins to rest, they asked what was to become of them. ‘Where shall I store my goods, where shelter my wife and children?’ said Jean Montagnier. ‘And where shall I go myself?’ A poor mason, an infirm old man, burst into tears when he saw his wretched home demolished: the Council gave him a measure of wheat, and promised to pay his rent. But if the magistrates showed kindness to the wretched, they were inflexible to the rebels. Magdalen Picot, a widow, having insulted the syndics in a fit of passion, was sentenced to three days’ imprisonment. If the poor lamented their hovels, the rich regretted their beautiful houses, the pleasant gardens round them, the smiling meadows watered by running streams and overshadowed by majestic trees, the fountains and the temple of the Crusaders, whose Gothic walls imparted an antique and religious character to the pleasing picture. A poet gave utterance to their thoughts in these lines:—

Urbe fuere mihi majora suburbia quondam,
Templis et domibus nec speciosa minus,
Quinetiam irriguis pratis, hortis et amœnis;
Pascebant oculos hæc animosque magis.[640]

Amid such lamentations, all good citizens and zealous evangelicals remained firm; but De Muro with a great number of catholics quitted Geneva, and passed over to the enemy’s camp. Henceforward they were to fight no longer against the Reformation with secret conspiracies; they would attack it in open war: _aperto bello patriam oppugnaturi_.[641]

[Sidenote: The Affrighted Nuns.]

At the same time that the houses were demolished, ramparts were built. Tribolet, captain of Berne, and one of the envoys from that republic, a man of experience, quick and compassionate at the same time, directed the construction of the earthworks and masonry intended to fortify the city. Towards the end of September, he began to plot out the lines in a garden adjoining the convent of St. Claire. Rich and poor, great and small, wheeled their barrows filled with earth and stones. When the work was done, Tribolet decided that it must be continued into the next garden, that of the nuns; and on the 30th of September, as early as four in the morning, they were politely requested to remove from the garden everything they wished to keep. Sorely distressed at this terrible message, they began to call upon God through the intercession of the Virgin and the saints. ‘We are secluded from the world for the love of God,’ said the abbess to the Bernese captain; ‘forbear from breaking into our holy cloister.’ Tribolet explained to her that the safety of the city required it, and added that he would do his work, ‘whether they liked it or not.’ Thereupon the frightened sisters threw open the convent, and running into the church, fell prostrate to the earth, weeping bitterly. When the captain opened the door, and saw the poor women stretched on the pavement, he said kindly to them: ‘Do not be afraid, we shall do you no harm.’ The sisters were much surprised to find a heretic could be so good-natured.[642]

Meanwhile the work of destruction continued, and as the materials were employed to build the fortification and repair the breaches in the walls, we may say with Bonivard, ‘_Etiam periere ruinæ_:’ ‘the very ruins have perished.’

But what was to be done with the six thousand citizens expelled from their homes? Were they to be left to wander about, exposed to the robbers of the neighborhood? There would have been room for a great portion of them in the convents, but those buildings were kept closed. On the other hand, the houses of the huguenots were thrown open, even to catholics. The citizens had incurred debts through long wars, their trade was ruined and their fields laid waste.... Nevertheless he that possessed two rooms gave up one, and he who had a loaf of bread shared it with his brother. Syndic Duvilard was empowered to lodge provisionally, either in the state buildings or in private houses, such as had been deprived of their homes. If any destitute persons were seen loitering in the streets, benevolent men and pious women would accost them, take them home, sit them down at the family table, and every place however small, was fitted up with sleeping accommodation. The Council even gave aid and comfort to the rich. Butini of Miolans was lodged, says the Register, in the house of the curate of St. Leger.

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]

[Sidenote: 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.’

[Sidenote: 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]

[Sidenote: Proceedings Of The Duke.]

But as the pope laid down the crosier the duke took it up. He succeeded in gaining over some Bernese ambassadors who had been sent to him, and these men, enraptured with the prince’s courteous manners, tried to convince the people of Geneva of his goodness. ‘We know him,’ said the huguenot, ‘he has an ass’s head and a fox’s tail.’[657] The Bernese continued: ‘Everything will be forgiven, but on condition that you send away these new preachers; that you permit such preachings no longer; that the bishop be restored to his former estate, and finally that you live in the faith of our holy mother, the Church.’[658] The Genevans could hardly believe their ears. The Little and the Great Council having sent for the ambassadors of Berne, told them plainly and curtly: ‘You ask us to abandon our liberties and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We would sooner renounce father and mother, wife and children, we would sooner lose our goods and our life! Tell the duke we will set fire to the four corners of the city, before we dismiss the preachers who announce the Word of God.... Nevertheless, they offer to endure death, if it can be shown by Scripture that they are wrong.’ The men of Berne were greatly astonished at such a reply.[659]

The duke was still more astonished; the measure was full, the insolence of that handful of friends to the evangelical doctrine must be severely punished. ‘Seeing this, the duke and all his following (_sequelle_), more inflamed than ever with anger against Geneva, consulted together to make war upon it.’ From every quarter the heads of the clergy (and Bishop du Bellay in particular) conjured him ‘to support the authority of the holy faith in the city of Geneva.’[660] The persuasion of these prelates inflamed the prince with such zeal for the maintenance of the papacy, that, unmindful of every treaty, he sent letters to Valais and the catholic cantons, demanding their assistance _propter fidem_, in behalf of the true faith, against the cities of Geneva, Lausanne, and others.[661] At the same time he despatched orders to his governors, gentlemen, provosts and other officers, ‘to ruin and destroy Geneva.’[662] On the 20th of November a diet was held at Thonon to decide upon the fate of the city; and as the aristocratic influence prevailed just then at Berne, the Bernese deputies adopted the sinister resolutions of Savoy. Even Charles V. declared through an ambassador his support of the duke’s demands, and required that, prior to any other measure, the bishop should be restored to all his rights.

Happily the citizens of Geneva were not without timely warning of the storm that was about to burst upon them. The messengers, commissioned by Charles III. to carry his rigorous orders to his agents, had to pass through certain villages, where they would sometimes halt at the inn. Everybody noticed their embarrassed manner, and in some places there were well-disposed persons who stopped and searched them, and discovering their letters took them away and sent them to the syndics. The latter comprehended the danger impending over the city, and accordingly took the measures necessary for its defence.[663] The friends of independence and of the Reformation, instead of being dejected by such news, felt their courage increased. It was as if a spark had fallen upon powder; their spirits caught fire. The hour of sacrifices and energetic resolutions had arrived; there were no more paltry scruples, evasions or delays, no more timid compromises. For a thing to succeed, it must be done with decision. The Genevese therefore boldly grasped the hammer, and with fresh strength began to demolish the suburbs and popery at the same time. At the Pré l’Evêque, they took down a stone cross because (as they said) ‘it turned men away from the true cross of Jesus Christ.’[664] At St. Leger, as the church had been demolished, they destroyed the images also. Still the Roman worship remained free; while Rome was attacking Geneva, Geneva protected Rome. The canons having timidly asked the Council, on the 24th of December, if they might celebrate the Christmas matins next day, the syndics posted themselves at the doors of the different churches ‘with men-at-arms to prevent annoyance,’ until divine service was over.[665]

[Sidenote: Switzerland Against Geneva.]

Geneva had still one hope remaining. Would those same Switzers, who had shaken off the oppression of Austria, permit Savoy to place Geneva under the yoke? Would the protestant republic of Berne, which had done so much to sow the good seed in this allied city,—which to this end had brought thither and protected Farel, Viret, and Froment,—would that republic turn away, now that the grain was beginning to shoot forth, and the harvest was at hand? It seemed impossible. A diet was to meet at Lucerne in January, to deliberate what Switzerland should do in this conjuncture. All the ideas of the Genevans were concentred on that one point. Not only did a majority of the cantons, but the Bernese themselves, consent to the restoration of the duke and the bishop. They required, indeed, that liberty of conscience should be respected; ‘for,’ said they, ‘it does not depend upon man to believe what he wishes; faith is the gift of God.’ But the duke and the bishop had the frankness to reject such a condition: ‘We claim,’ they said, ‘the right of ordering everything that concerns religion in our states.’—‘We mean,’ added their representatives, ‘that the preachers shall be expelled from the city, and that Berne shall break off her alliance with it.’ At these words grief and indignation pierced the Genevan deputies like a sword. ‘What!’ they said; ‘the bishop complains of being robbed of his jurisdiction, and it is he who is the robber! He has been always wishing to strip Geneva of her franchises; and not long ago he transferred the officers of justice, the courts, and the tribunals, to a foreign country.’ The diet was inexorable. They resolved that the duke and the bishop should be reinstated in the possession of all their lordships and privileges. To no purpose did Syndic Claude Savoie and Jean Lullin, who were alarmed at this decision, hasten to Lucerne and declare that Geneva would never accept the articles voted. ‘You ought to thank us,’ answered the Swiss,—was it in irony or in sincerity?—‘instead of which you insult us. Accept the mandate.’—‘We cannot,’ proudly answered the deputies. ‘In that case,’ resumed the cantons, ‘we have only to place the matter in the hands of God.’[666]

Geneva was abandoned by all, even by Berne. The news filled the citizens with the liveliest emotion. There was nothing left them but God, and God is mighty. ‘Yes,’ said they, ‘be it so, let God decide.’ Men worked at the walls and prepared their arms, the women prayed, and the children in their games defied Savoy and the bishop. The bells of the demolished churches were melted down to make cannon. Every night, men on guard stretched the chains across the streets, and the watchword was to make ‘good ward and sure ward.’ Everything was carried out with order, calmness, and courage.[667]

Their enemies smiled at this activity, and asked how it could be possible for such a small city to resist the numerous forces about to march against it. But wiser men were not ignorant that in the world faith often prevails over superstition, wisdom over strength, piety over anger, and that the great mission falls ultimately to the just and the calm. Charles V., who aspired to place his sword in the balance, and other great and ambitious men, have had something gigantic in them; extraordinary ideas have flashed across their minds like lightning, and they have often cast a wide and sombre light over history; but they have founded nothing lasting. All great and solid creations belong to justice, perseverance, and faith.

[Sidenote: The Song Of Resurrection.]

The spirit of self-sacrifice and firmness with which the Genevans demolished one half of their city was a pledge of victory. At the beginning of 1535 the work was almost ended. A few, however, of the remoter buildings did not come down until 1536, and even 1537. Everything was levelled round the walls, the approaches to the place were free, the artillery could play without obstruction, the lines intended to cover the city were formed, the ramparts were built, and Geneva, witnessing the labors of her children, and her sudden and marvellous transformation, might well exclaim by the mouth of one of her poets:—

. . . . . Incepit tentandi causa pudoris
Alliciens varios hæc mea forma procos;
Qui me cum blandis non possent fallere verbis,
Ecce minas addunt, denique vimque parant.
Tunc ego non volui pulchrum præponere honesto,
Diripui rigida sed mea pulchra manu
Templa, domos, hortos, in propugnacula verti,
Arcerent stolidos quæ procul inde procos.
Diripui pulchrum certe, ut tutarer honestum.
_E pulchra et fortis facta Geneva vocor._[668]

Geneva was then passing through the arduous ordeal of transformation. Rough blows assailed her, groans burst from her bosom, and on her features was the pallor of death. But in the hour when the sacrifice was thus accomplished on the altar, when riches and beauty were immolated to save independence and faith, when these proud thoughts agitated men’s hearts and made their presence known by a cry of agony or by words of high-mindedness, a mysterious light shone forth, in the midst of the darkness; liberty, morality, and the Gospel had appeared. Hopeful eyes had seen a new edifice, radiant with immortal glory, rising above the ruins of the old. The song then heard was not the song of death, but of resurrection.

Footnote 637:

It was situated nearly on the spot where the Russian church now
stands.

Footnote 638:

Registre du Conseil du 18 Août, 1534. The expression in the Register
is much more energetic.

Footnote 639:

‘Ecclesia quam Sedeleuba regina in suburbano Genevensi
construxerat.’—Fredegarius, _Chron._ cap. xxii. La sœur Jeanne,
_Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 94.

Footnote 640:

‘Great suburbs at one time surrounded the city, not less beautiful
with churches and houses than with well-watered meadows and pleasant
gardens; which feasted the eyes and the heart still more.’ The lines
from which our extract is taken are in Gautier’s manuscript. He
ascribes them to an anonymous writer who had seen the suburbs.

Footnote 641:

Registre du Conseil des 11, 14, 16, et 19 Septembre, 1534. Gautier,
MS. La sœur Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 97, 98. MS. de
Turrettini; Berne, _Hist. Helvet._

Footnote 642:

Registre du Conseil des 21, 25 Septembre, 1534. La sœur Jeanne,
_Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 97-100.

Footnote 643:

Registre du Conseil du 21 Septembre, 1534. The Gallatin family, after
serving this republic, furnished devoted citizens to the United
States. Abraham Albert Alphonse Gallatin, who emigrated to America at
the end of the eighteenth century, became Secretary of State.

Footnote 644:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 115. Registre du Conseil, 29
Septembre, 1534.

Footnote 645:

Procès Inquisitionnel de Baudichon de la Maisonneuve. MS. de Berne, p.
7.

Footnote 646:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 117, 118, 121, 174. Registre du
Conseil du 25 Septembre, 1534. Roset MS.

Footnote 647:

Par fraudes et pipées.

Footnote 648:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 115. Registre du Conseil du 25
Septembre, 1534. Gautier MS.

Footnote 649:

Froment, _Gestes_, p. 116.

Footnote 650:

La sœur de Sainte Claire, _Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 97.

Footnote 651:

Registre du 18 Septembre, 1534.

Footnote 652:

‘Die calendæ suæ.’—Registre du Conseil du 1er Octobre, 1534.

Footnote 653:

Registre du Conseil du 1er Octobre 1534. MS. de Gautier. MS. de Roset,
liv. iii. ch. xxix.

Footnote 654:

‘Episcoporum judicia et cunctorum majorum negotia causarum eidem
sanctæ sedi reservata esse liquet.’—Canon 12.

Footnote 655:

M. Guizot.

Footnote 656:

_Chron._ MS. de Roset, liv. iii. ch. xxix. MS. de Gautier.

Footnote 657:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 110. Registre du Conseil du 1er
Septembre, 1534.

Footnote 658:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 110, 111.

Footnote 659:

Ibid. p. 112.

Footnote 660:

‘Soutenir l’autorité de la sainte foy dans la ville de
Genève.’—Archives of the kingdom of Italy at Turin, bundle xiii. No.
19.

Footnote 661:

Archives of the kingdom of Italy at Turin, bundle xiii. No. 19.

Footnote 662:

‘Nuire et détruire Genève.’

Footnote 663:

Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 113. Registre du Conseil 1er, 13
Octobre, 1534. MSC. de Roset, liv. iii. ch. xxx.

Footnote 664:

Registre du Conseil des 28 Novembre, 3 Décembre, 1534, et 9 Mars,
1535. La sœur Jeanne, _Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 100-104.

Footnote 665:

Registre du Conseil du 24 Décembre, 1534. La sœur Jeanne, _Levain du
Calvinisme_, p. 104.

Footnote 666:

MS. de Roset, liv. iii. ch. xx. Registre du Conseil des 5, 28 Janvier,
20 et 21 Février, 1535. MS. de Gautier.

Footnote 667:

Registre du Conseil des 29 Décembre, 1534; 8, 12, 15 Janvier, 1535.

Footnote 668:

‘My beauty attracted many suitors who sought to seduce me. When they
saw that their flattering could not make me faithless, they had
recourse to threats, and at last prepared to overcome me by force.
Then I, unwilling to set my beauty above my virtue, destroyed with
inflexible hand my temples, gardens, and houses, and converted them
into ramparts, to keep my insensate suitors at a distance. I destroyed
my beauty to preserve my honor. I was once Geneva the fair; now I am
called Geneva the valiant.’ These lines are preserved in Gautier’s
manuscript history.