J. H. Merle D'Aubigné - History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin (Vol. 1-8)

Pontverre, delighted at seeing the success of his appeal, sat silent, and appeared for a time lost in deep meditation. He had a subtle mind, he did not fear to resort to stratagem, and hoped that an assault would not be necessary. With the greatest secresy he had gained friends who occupied a house in the Corraterie, the back door of which opened to the outside of the city. It would seem that this house belonged to the hospital of the Pont du Rhone, situated between that bridge and the Mint, and placed under the patronage of the canons of the cathedral. 793The council rose. Pontverre was particularly intimate with the Sire de Beaufort, governor of Chillon, one of the most valiant knights of the assembly. Taking him aside, and enjoining secresy, he said: 'We have a gate in Geneva at our orders. No one knows of it; but do not fear. I will undertake that you shall all enter.'—'Pontverre did indeed enter,' said Bonivard, some time after, when he heard of this remark; 'he went in, but he did not come out.' 794

=PONTVERRE'S INSOLENCE.=

The knights mounted their horses, and each one rode off to his castle to prepare for the great enterprise. Pontverre did the same; but, always daring, and taking a delight in braving the people of Geneva, he resolved to pass through the city again. His friends reminded him that the citizens were now on their guard; that he had offended them some days before; that if he attempted such an imprudent act, he was a dead man; and that his life was necessary to their enterprise. It was all to no purpose. 'His hour was come,' says the chronicler of St. Victor, 'and it pleased God so.'—'Fear not,' answered the daring soldier to his brothers in arms; 'I will pass through by night, and wrap my face up in my cloak, so that no one can recognise me. Besides, if they attack me, I have my sword.' One of his friends, the Sire de Simon, resolved to accompany him, and some armed attendants followed them. The knights who remained behind, watched him as he galloped off towards Geneva, and wondered anxiously what would happen.

Pontverre, checking the speed of his horse, reflected on the work he was about to undertake. He thought it worthy of the name he bore, and of the memory of his ancestors. By lending his sword to the Duke of Savoy and to the pope, he would make absolutism in the Church and in the State triumphant in Geneva; at one blow he would crush in that restless city both independence and the Reformation. He reached Geneva between four and five o'clock in the afternoon of Saturday, the 2nd of January, 1529, and night had set in. Pontverre hid his face in his cloak, presented himself with his escort at the Pâquis gate, and passed through. He entered the streets. The commander of an army which purposed capturing and destroying Geneva, was traversing, like an ordinary traveller, the city he was about to surround with his forces, besiege, and perhaps burn.... Such impudent assurance has perhaps never been witnessed in modern times. He was hardly inside the city, when, no longer able to contain himself (for pride and anger prevailed over discretion), he put aside all precaution, threw off his cloak, and, drawing his sword, 'uttered threats and insults out of his haughtiness and insolence.' 795He went even further than this: the streets of Geneva, and the presence of the detested huguenots whom he saw moving about, made his wrath boil over; and striking one of the citizens on the head with his sword, he exclaimed with a round oath: 'We must kill these traitors!' The assaulted citizen turned round, and others ran up: this took place in the Rue de Coutance, which has witnessed many other fights since then, even in very recent times. 796The huguenots surrounded the horseman, and, recognising him, called out: 'It is Pontverre! it is Pontverre!' The crowd increased and blocked up the bridge over the Rhone, which the chief of the knights of the Spoon would have to cross.

=FIGHT ON THE BRIDGE.=

For several days past the citizens had been talking in Geneva about the conference at Nyon; they said that these gentlemen of the Spoon were planning some new attack, that they were going once more to plunder and kill, and that this time they would probably try to carry fire and sword into Geneva itself. The irritation was excessive among the people; some of the citizens, meeting in the public places or in their own houses, were talking about the gentlemen assembled at Nyon, and many jokes were made upon them. 'These gentlemen!' said one huguenot. 'Call them rob-men ( gens-pille-hommes ),' said a second; 'or kill-men ( gens-tue-hommes ),' added a third; and despite the serious state of affairs, they all began to laugh. On a sudden, here before them, in their very city, was the leader of the enterprise, the man who never ceased harassing them: he had drawn his sword and struck one of the citizens. The latter drew in their turn, and just as the bold cavalier had crossed the suburb of St. Gervais, and was coming upon the bridge, they surrounded him, and one of them struck him in the face. The representative of feudalism was fighting almost alone with the representatives of the bourgeoisie. The old power and the new were struggling on the Rhone bridge. And while the blue waters were flowing beneath, as they had ever done; while the old waters were running on to be lost in the sea, and the new ones were coming, loosened from the Alpine glaciers by the beams of the sun,—on the bridge above there were other ancient things passing away, and other new ones appearing in their place. Amid the flashing of swords and the shock of arms, amid the indignant shouts of the citizens and the oaths of the knight, a great transformation was going on; society was passing over to the system of freedom and abandoning the system of feudalism.

The Sire de Pontverre, seeing the number of his enemies increasing, spurred his horse, dashed through the crowd, and reached the Corraterie gate, by which he desired to leave the city, and which led to the Black Friars' monastery. But the Genevans had got there before him.... The gate, alas! was shut. In this extremity, Pontverre did not falter. Close at hand was the house, dependent on the hospital, the back gate of which led outside the city, and by which he designed introducing the Savoyards by night. Thanks to his horse, he was a little in advance of his pursuers; he lost not a moment, he turned back, and reached the house in question. To get at the door it was necessary to go up several steps. The Genevans were now rushing after him in a crowd, shouting: 'Pontverre! Pontverre!'... The latter faced his enemies, and, without dismounting, backed his horse up the steps, at the same time using his sword against his pursuers. At this moment the syndic Ami Girard arrived; he found the Sire de Simon, and the other horsemen who had accompanied their chief, beset on all sides. The syndic begged that they might not be hurt; and as the horsemen surrendered their arms, they were lodged in a place of safety. Pontverre dismounted on reaching the top of the steps, and, hoping to escape by the door we have mentioned, rushed into the house. His face was covered with blood, for, says an eye-witness, 'he had a sword-cut on his nose;' his eyes were wild; he heard the feet of the huguenots close behind him. Had he no time to reach the door, or did he find it shut? We cannot tell. Seeing that he could not escape, he appears to have lost his presence of mind. Had he still been himself, he would no doubt have faced his enemies and sold his life dearly, but, for the first time in his life, he became frightened; he dashed into one of the apartments, threw himself on the floor, and crept hastily under a bed: a child might have done the same. What a hiding-place for the most valiant knight whom the Alps and the Jura had seen perhaps for centuries!

=THE DEATH-STRUGGLE.=

At this moment, the Genevans who were pursuing him rushed into the house and began to search it; they entered the room where the man lay hid who had threatened to swallow Geneva as if it were a spoonful of rice. At their head was Ami Bandière, one of the huguenots who had been compelled to flee to Berne at the same time as Hugues and the leaders of the party—the man, it will be remembered, whose father and children had appeared before the council in 1526, when it was necessary to defend the huguenots who had taken refuge in Switzerland. Bandière, an upright, determined, and violent man, an enthusiast for liberty, noticed the bed; he thought that the proud gentleman might possibly be hidden beneath it. 'They poked their swords underneath,' says Bonivard, 'and the wretched man hidden there received a stab.' 797This was too much: the Sire de Pontverre was aroused: being an active and powerful man, he rushed out of his hiding-place in a fury, and, springing to his feet, seized Bandière with his vigorous arms, threw him on the bed, and stabbed him in the thigh with a dagger. The shouts now grew louder. If he had surrendered no harm would have been done him; but Bandière's friends, excited by the blood of their brother, were eager to avenge him. They rushed upon Pontverre. Alone in the middle of the room, this athletic man received them boldly: he swung his sword round him, now striking with the edge, and now with the point; but a citizen, inflamed by anger, aimed a violent blow at him, and the captain-general of the knights of the Spoon fell dead. At this moment the syndic Ami Girard entered, exclaiming: 'Stop! stop!' but it was too late.