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

On Thursday, February 1, 1526, one hundred and sixty mounted citizens rode out of the city to meet the prelate: ‘Why, they are all huguenots,’ said Biolley, an ardent mameluke and secretary to the council, as he saw them pass. There was however something else. On each side of the bishop rode Saleneuve and Balleyson, both devoted servants of the duke, and Charles, distrusting La Baume, expected that he would obey them as if they were his guardians. The prelate loved neither his Highness nor the citizens of Geneva, ‘but only to fill his purse, that he might empty it afterwards in playing gaudeamus ,’ says a contemporary. The two chamberlains, however, kept so close to him that he could not speak freely to anybody. He behaved politely towards them, and seemed to be their very humble servant; but as soon as he arrived at the bridge of Arve, where Savoy ended and the Genevese territory began, the bishop spurred his horse, and rode in front of his ‘guardians,’ as a sign that he was lord and master. Then assuming his right position, he obliged them from that moment to speak to him uncovered. 395

The Savoyard nobles were determined, however, not to lose their prey. The next day (February 2), after dinner, as the two guardians were keeping the bishop ‘at a gaming-table,’ it was whispered him that Robert Vandel wanted him. Vandel, one of the Genevese liberals, possessed all his confidence, and the bishop desired much to see him; but Saleneuve and Balleyson continued their game, and Pierre de la Baume knew not what to do to escape them. Unable to hold out any longer, he rose, alleging some very natural pretext, and hastened to a little room at the back of the house, where Vandel was. ‘Well, Robert,’ said the prelate rather sharply, ‘they tell me that you have made a declaration in the city contrary to my authority.’—‘You have been deceived,’ replied Vandel, who read him the protest of the hôtel-de-ville. ‘Well, well,’ said the prelate, ‘there is no great harm in that.’ Vandel then represented to him that if Geneva owed a double obedience, one to the duke, another to the bishop, as the Council of Halberds had determined, the first would certainly swallow up the second. Pierre de la Baume had no doubt of it.—‘There is somebody,’ he said, lowering his voice, ‘very glad of my coming, but he will be vexed afterwards.... I will not lose an inch of my jurisdiction, were I to spend all my property in defending it. I will have no alliance with the Swiss, however; this I promised the duke.’ Vandel represented to him that the Genevans sought this alliance only to protect the episcopal sovereignty against the usurpations of Savoy; and then, knowing the prelate’s avarice, he added shrewdly: ‘When the alliance with the Swiss is concluded, we will proceed against the duke’s creatures, we will confiscate their property, and, my lord ... that will do you no harm.’—‘What are you saying, Robert?’ Vandel explained his meaning more fully. Such language moved the bishop to turn round.—‘Really,’ he answered. ‘Well, we will talk more fully about it another time; for the moment, farewell.’ The converted prelate went back to his two keepers. 396

The bishop, won over by Vandel, made many reflections during the night, and the next day he desired to see the syndics and the council, who had greatly irritated him by their concessions to the duke. ‘Tell me how you have been going on since my departure,’ he said mildly, and then continued sharply: ‘You asked me to join in your appeal to Rome, and then you withdrew from it without my consent.... This is bad; you should have done your duty without fear, whatever wrong might be done you.... I will not give up the appeal; I would rather convene the people.... God and the world shall be satisfied with me.’ La Baume had seen the duke in Piedmont. ‘His Highness,’ said he, turning towards his episcopal council, ‘told me that he meant to have the sovereignty of Geneva, and asked me for a day to come to an understanding about it; but I answered immediately that although Pierre de la Baume is his humble subject, his Highness has no business in my city.... I am determined to maintain the rights of my church and the liberties of my city—until death.’ Then turning again to the syndics: ‘As for those who have retired into Switzerland,’ he said, ‘I hold them to be honest people, and, saving the alliance, I approve of all they may do.’

On a sudden the bishop asked himself what he should say to the duke if such language was reported to him.... Startled at his own courage, he became confused, hesitated, and, speaking low to the first syndic, he said: ‘I wish you did as they do at Venice. Your council is not secret; it ought to be so. Understand clearly that I embrace the city party; but the benefices I possess in his Highness’s states compel me to do so secretly.... If in any circumstance I seem opposed to your interests, remember that it is in appearance only.’ At the same time, the bishop wrote and told the fugitives of his intention to pay all the expenses which the independence of the city necessitated; but he added: ‘If I write you the contrary, pay no attention to it; I shall do so only through fear of the duke, and not to make him angry.’ The spirit of his policy was deception. Such was the last bishop of Geneva. 397

The annual nomination of the syndics was about to take place, and the city was in great commotion. Both parties counted on this election: the mamelukes to establish the duke in Geneva, and the huguenots to expel him. The great patriots were in exile; victory seemed assured to the ducals. Yet the timidest even of the huguenots took courage, and swore to elect ‘honest men who would secure the liberty of the city.’ The general council having assembled on the 4th of February, 1526, the mameluke syndic Montyon proposed eight candidates, from whom, according to the order prescribed by the duke, they must elect four syndics. Then Robert Vandel stood up: ‘I am authorised by the citizens,’ he said to Montyon, ‘to inform you that they will not be muzzled ( brigidari ).’ Then, turning to the people, he asked: ‘Is it not true?’ All replied: ‘Yes, yes!’ many at the same time calling out ‘Jean Philippe.’ Philippe was not only not one of the eight, but he was one of the exiles. ‘We will make Jean Philippe syndic,’ repeated the huguenots, ‘and thus show that he and the others in Switzerland are good citizens.’ If Besançon Hugues was not the popular choice, it was probably because the people were still angry with that noble exile for his refusal in the preceding year.

At this moment the bishop’s procurator-fiscal Mandalla appeared. La Baume’s courage was not heroic; he trembled at the idea of a purely huguenot election, and desired to get a moderate list—half servile, half liberal—passed. In his name, Mandalla proposed four candidates, among whom was the traitor Cartelier. ‘That will quiet all angry feelings,’ said the procurator. It was not a clever manœuvre, for Cartelier’s name was sufficient to discredit the others.

The polling began. Each man went up to the secretary and gave in his vote. The most energetic of the two parties counted the votes received. The procurator-fiscal watched the election with anxiety. Soon, vexed and dispirited, he ran and told the bishop that the people took no account of his message.... Pierre de la Baume was frightened. The zealous fiscal ran again to the polling-place: ‘My lord conjures you,’ he said, ‘at least not to elect Jean Philippe, considering that he is not in the city.’—‘We will make no choice that will be disagreeable to the bishop,’ they answered politely, and at the same time continued giving their votes to the exile. The people of Geneva were determined to show, in a striking manner, that they were breaking with Savoy and uniting with Switzerland, and treading boldly in the path of liberty. The bishop, still more alarmed, finding that his procurator obtained nothing, sent his vicar to protest, in his name, against so dangerous an election. ‘It shall be done as our prince pleases,’ said they courteously; and then, ‘without noise or murmur, were elected four huguenots. Sire Jean Philippe (they said in the city) received more votes than any of the others.’ The citizens cared no more for the bishop than for the duke, when the reestablishment of their liberties was concerned. The people had never been more united; the opposition counted only eleven, and after the election everybody declared that they sided with the majority. They said one to another that a free and courageous people, if God comes to their aid, can never perish.