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

While the mamelukes and Savoyards were conspiring at Turin and Pignerol against the liberties of the city, Berthelier and his friends were thinking how to preserve them. The iniquity of the duke and the bishop showed them more and more every day the necessity of independence. They resolved to take a decisive step. Berthelier, Bernard, Bonivard, Lévrier, Vandel, De la Mare, Besançon Hugues, and some others met in consultation. ‘Hitherto,’ said Berthelier, ‘it is only in parlours and closets that we have advised an alliance with the Swiss; we must now proclaim it on the house-tops; simple conversations are no longer enough: it is time to come to a common decision. But alas! where, when, and how?... The princes of Savoy have accustomed us to assemble only for our pleasures. Who ever thinks in our meetings of the safety of the city?’ Bonivard then began to speak: ‘The house of M. de Gingins and mine at St. Victor have often seen us assembled in small numbers for familiar conversation. We now require larger rooms and more numerous meetings. This is my proposition. Let us employ to do good the same means as we have hitherto used to do evil. Let us take advantage of the meetings where until now nothing was thought of but pleasure, to deliberate henceforth on the maintenance of our liberties.’ This proposition met with a favourable reception.

Since the murder of Blanchet and Navis, it had become more difficult to hold these huguenot meetings. The threats of Savoy were such that men were afraid of everything that might give an excuse for violent measures. ‘There was in former times at Geneva,’ observed one of the company, ‘a brotherhood of St. George which is now degenerated but not destroyed; let us revive it and make use of it; let us employ it to save the franchises threatened by the Savoy princes.’ 184

Berthelier set to work as soon as the meeting broke up. When he desired to assemble his friends, he used to pass whistling under their windows. He began to saunter through the streets with a look of unconcern, but with his eyes on the watch, and gave a whistle whenever he passed the house of a devoted citizen. The huguenots listened, recognised the signal of their chief, came out, and went up to him: a meeting was appointed for a certain day and hour.

The day arrived. ‘We were about sixty,’ said Bonivard. It was not a large number, but they were all men of spirit and enterprise. It was no meeting of conspirators: the worthiest members of the republic had assembled, who had no intention to go beyond the rights which the constitution gave them. In fact Berthelier and Besançon Hugues proposed simply an alliance with the Swiss. ‘This thought is not a fancy sprung from an empty brain,’ they said; ‘the princes of Savoy force us to it. By taking away our fairs, by trampling the laws under foot, by breaking off our relations with other countries, they compel us to unite with the Swiss.’ When they found Savoy violently breaking the branches of the tree, and even trying to uproot it, these patriots were determined to graft it on the old and more vigorous stock of Helvetic liberty. 185

The rumour of this decision, which they tried however to keep secret, reached Turin. Nothing in the world could cause more anger and alarm to the bishop and the duke. They answered immediately, on the 13th of October, by sending an order to bring Berthelier to trial in the following month before the episcopal commissioners; this was delivering him to death. Councillor Marti of Friburg, a blunt man, but also intelligent, warm, devoted and ready, being informed of what was going on, hastened to Geneva. The most sacred friendship had been formed between him and Berthelier when, seated at the same hearth, they had conversed together about Geneva and liberty. The thought that a violent death might suddenly carry off a man so dear, disturbed Marti seriously. He proceeded to the hôtel-de-ville, where the Council of Fifty had met, and showed at once how full he was of tenderness for Berthelier, and of anger for his enemies. ‘Sirs,’ he said bluntly, ‘this is the fifth time I have come here about the same business: I beg that it may be the last. Protect Berthelier as the liberties of your city require, or beware! Friburg has always desired your good; do not oblige us to change our opinion.... Do not halt between two sides: decide for one or the other. The duke and the bishop say one thing, and they always do another: they think only of destroying your liberties, and Friburg of defending them.’ The council, who found it more convenient to give the right hand to one and the left to another, to keep on good terms with Friburg and the bishop, thought this speech a little rude. They thanked Marti all the same, but added that, before giving a decisive answer, they must wait the return of the deputies sent to the bishop and the duke. ‘Nevertheless,’ added the syndics, ‘as regards Berthelier we will maintain the liberties of the city.’ 186

The deputies whom they expected from Turin—Nergaz, Déléamont, and the vidame—soon arrived. When they returned to the free city, they were still dazzled by the pomp of the Piedmontese court, and filled with the ideas which the partisans of absolute power had instilled into them. ‘Everything is in the prince,’ they had said, ‘and the people ought to have no other will but his.’ Thinking only of claiming absolute authority for the bishop, they appeared on the 29th of November before the Council of State, and said in an imperative tone: ‘We have orders from my lord bishop not to discharge our mission until you have added to your number twenty of the most eminent citizens.’ In this way the princes of Savoy wished to make sure of a majority. The council assented to this demand. ‘We require them,’ added Syndic Nergaz, ‘to make oath in our presence that they will reveal nothing they may hear.’—‘What means all this mystery?’ the councillors asked each other; but the oath was taken. The ambassadors then advanced another step: ‘Here is the letter in which my lord makes known his sovereign will; but before it is opened, you must all swear to execute the orders it contains.’ This strange demand was received in sullen silence; such open despotism astonished not only the friends of liberty but even the mamelukes. ‘Hand us the letter addressed to us, that we may read it,’ said Besançon Hugues and other independent members of the council. ‘No,’ replied Nergaz, ‘the oath first, and then the letter.’ Some partisans of Savoy had the impudence to second this demand; but ‘the friends of independence’ resisted firmly, and the meeting broke up. ‘There must be some secret in that letter dangerous to the people,’ they said. It was resolved to convene the general council in order that the ambassadors might deliver their message in person. This appeal to the people was very disagreeable to the three deputies; yet they encouraged one another to carry out their mission to the end. 187

On Sunday, December 5, the sound of a trumpet was heard, the great bell of the cathedral tolled, the citizens put on their swords, and the large hall of Rive was ‘quite filled with people.’ The deputies were desired to ‘deliver their message.’—‘Our message is found in the letter,’ said Nergaz, ‘and our only instructions are that before the council of Geneva open it, they shall swear to carry out its orders.’ These words caused an immense agitation among the people. ‘We have so good a leader,’ said they with irony, ‘that we ought to follow him with our eyes shut and not fear to fall into the ditch with him! How can we doubt that the secret contained in this mysterious paper is a secret of justice and love?... If there are any sceptics among us, let them go to the walnut-tree at the bridge of Arve, where the limbs of our friends are still hanging.’—‘Gentlemen,’ said the more serious men, ‘we return you the letter unopened, and beg you will send it back to those who gave it you.’ Then Nergaz, feeling annoyed, exclaimed bitterly: ‘I warn you that my lord of Savoy has many troops in the field, and that if you do not execute the orders contained in this letter, no citizen of Geneva will be safe in his states. I heard him say so.’ The people on hearing this were much exasperated. ‘Indeed!’ they exclaimed, ‘if we do not swear beforehand to do a thing without knowing it, all who possess lands in Savoy or who travel there, will be treated like Navis and Blanchet.’ ... Thereupon several citizens turned to the three deputies and said: ‘Have you remained five or six weeks over the mountains, feasting, amusing yourselves, exulting, and living merrily, in order to bring us such despatches? To the Rhone with the traitors! to the Rhone! The three mamelukes trembled before the anger of the people. Were they really to be flung into the river to be cleansed from the impurities they had contracted in the fêtes at Turin?... Lévrier, Besançon Hugues, and other men of condition quieted the citizens, and the servile deputies got off with their fright. Calm being restored, the councillors returned the prince’s letter to Nergaz and his colleagues, saying: ‘We will not open it.’ They feared the influence of the creatures of Savoy, of whom there were many in the Great Council. We give this name to the body established in 1457, which consisted at first of only fifty persons, and which being frequently increased became somewhat later the Council of Two Hundred. The people withdrew from this assembly a privilege they had given it in 1502, and decreed that the general council alone should henceforward decide on all that concerned the liberties of Geneva. 188