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

During this time the fifteen gentlemen had returned to St. Jullien and made a report of their visit to the council. Charles and his advisers did not consider their proceedings very diplomatic, and resolved to act more officially but more insolently. The next day, Friday, April 1, the king-at-arms, Provena de Chablais (he derived this name from the province where he was born) arrived in Geneva, and was introduced to the council with the usual ceremony. A cuirass covered him down to the waist; on his left arm he wore his casaque or coat of arms, and his right hand held a rod,—a gaule , says a manuscript. He entered with head erect, without uncovering or making any bow to the council. ‘Sit down by my side,’ politely said the premier syndic to him, ‘and unfold your message.’ Chablais remained standing, with sneering lip and silent, although the invitation was repeated thrice. This mute embassy considerably astonished the Genevan senate. At last, the king-at-arms quitted his fixed posture and took a seat of his own accord, not by the side of, but above the syndics who remained impassive. Then he said: ‘Worshipful syndics and councillors, do not marvel if I did not sit down when you desired me, and if I sit down now without being invited; I will tell you the reason. I am here in behalf of my most dread prince and lord, the Duke of Savoy, my master and yours . It does not become you to tell him to sit down—it is his privilege to do so when and where he pleases:—not beside you but above you, as your sovereign prince; and as representing his person, I have done so myself. Now from my seat I unfold my commission, and it is this. My lord and yours charges and commands you to prepare his lodging in your hôtel-de-ville with the sumptuousness and magnificence that belong to such a prince. Likewise he orders that you will get ready provisions for him and his company, which will be ten thousand infantry without including cavalry; for his intention is to lodge here with this retinue to administer justice in Geneva.’ 216

The king-at-arms was desired to retire, the council wishing to deliberate on the answer to be returned. The discussion was not a long one, all being unanimous to maintain firmly the liberties of Geneva. The herald was called in again, and the first syndic said to him: ‘Sir Chablais, we are equally surprised at what you do and at what you say . At what you do; for after we offered you a seat, you refused it; and when you had refused it, you took it.... At what you say; for you say that my lord of Savoy is your prince and ours ... a thing unheard of until this time. He may be your prince—that we believe; but ours ... no! We are his very humble servants, but we are neither his subjects nor his vassals.... It therefore does not belong either to you or to him to sit in the place where you are.... As for what you say respecting our hôtel-de-ville, we know not what you mean; the duke may choose any lodging he pleases except our hôtel-de-ville, which we cannot spare. He will be treated as in former times—better if possible. He desires to administer justice; it is the place of the bishop and council to do so, according to the franchises which he himself has sworn. If any one among us has offended him, let him inform us. Lastly, as to the large train with which he desires to be attended, it is a singular company for the administration of justice! Let him please to come with his usual retinue, nay, with five hundred men; but ten thousand men and cavalry besides.... We have not supplies for so many.’ 217

Chablais listened coldly and disdainfully. ‘Will you or will you not obey the orders of my lord?’ he said. The first syndic answered bluntly: ‘No.’ The herald then rose, put on his coat of arms, and with a loud voice said: ‘On his behalf then I pronounce you rebellious to your prince—and I declare war against you with fire and sword.’ Then flinging his rod into the middle of the hall, he continued: ‘I defy you on the part of my lord, in sign of which I throw down this rod (gaule); let him take it up who pleases.’ So saying, he left the hall. 218

The news of this singular challenge was immediately carried to the people, who were dismayed at it. The huguenots, seeing that they must die or be slaves (say the annals), chose the first alternative and prepared for death, resolving, however, to sell their lives and not to throw them away. Feeling themselves the strongest body in the city, they called the people together. ‘Let every one take up arms!’ they said. They even forced the mamelukes to do so. The gates were shut, the chains stretched across the streets, the artillery manned, the watch set: ‘they made all the preparations for war according to the skill and experience they had in that business.’ 219

The duke, knowing that right was not on his side, resolved to draw the sword. Advised by Montrotier, a daring officer, he had a fit of courage, and, closing all the roads, sent out his troops in every direction. It was Saturday, April 2, and market day at Geneva. The market was held ‘without a word said;’ they allowed everybody to go in and out who wished; 220but about noon a report of the duke’s manœuvre having reached the city, the inhabitants took up arms. The peasants, returning from market, described to the Savoyards, with some exaggeration perhaps, the war preparations made by the Genevans. Immediately the duke’s fit of courage was succeeded by one of fear. Bonivard had expected this, and on hearing that the prince was at the head of an army had shrugged his shoulders. ‘The duke knows as much of war,’ he said, ‘as a monk bred in a convent since he was seven years old.’ This display of ten thousand men, assembled a league from Geneva, these troops sent out in every direction—all ended in a pitiful retractation. M. de Lucinge, appearing before the council, said: ‘His Highness has ordered me to inform you, most honoured lords, that he desires to come and sup with you in a friendly way. If he cannot lodge in the hôtel-de-ville, be so good as to prepare a lodging elsewhere for him, his great suite, 221and two or three hundred infantry only.... He desires to do violence to nobody.’ The mamelukes proposed that the gates should be opened to the duke immediately, but the syndics replied that they would consult the general council on the morrow. The mameluke councillors, who thought that the duke did Geneva a great honour by coming to it, looked around with astonishment at the answer: their greatest happiness was to approach a prince and pay court to his Highness, and these inflexible huguenots turned their backs upon him. ‘Well,’ said they, ‘if they will not let the duke come to us, we will go to him.’ Accordingly Montyon and several others of his party left the council-room. The court-yard of the hôtel-de-ville was full of citizens waiting to learn the result of the meeting: they saw the mamelukes pass with astonishment. The spectators whispered in each other’s ears: ‘They are going to join the Savoyards.’ ... Presently a loud shout was raised, and several huguenots, catching up some spears that were resting against the wall, ran after the mamelukes to seize them; they were almost overtaken when the councillors, deputed by the syndics, entreated them, for the safety of the city, to avoid a strife between citizens. The angry patriots returned to the hôtel-de-ville. Every one was distressed at knowing that there were among them men capable of forsaking Geneva for the Duke of Savoy. 222

The disloyalists (as they were called) hastened along the St. Jullien road. Besides Montyon, there were Cartelier, Déléamont, Nergaz, Ray, the two De Fernex, and others, making in all between thirty and forty. ‘Our interview with the duke must be private,’ said the cunning Cartelier, who felt how criminal was the step they were taking. The duke let them know that at a certain hour of the night he would be under a particular tree in the Falcon orchard. Thither they resorted one by one, and were all soon gathered round the tree without being able to recognise each other except by the voice. The intriguing Cartelier was spokesman. Political views influenced Montyon, De Versonex, and others; but in him, it was the hatred he bore against the huguenots and the desire to be revenged on them. He assured the duke that the majority of the people were ready to acknowledge him for their sovereign. ‘But,’ he added, ‘the bad ones have shut the gates, stretched the chains, placed guards.... Enter Geneva, my lord, sword in hand.’ They then discussed their guilty projects, and it was agreed in whispers what the mamelukes should do in order to facilitate the entrance of the Savoyards into the city. ‘The traitors,’ says Bonivard, ‘entered into a plot with the duke.’ 223