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

This important council assembled, but instead of two hundred citizens, three hundred and twenty met together. This sitting was to be a festival; everybody desired to be present. It was known that Hugues would speak: the respect they felt for the great citizen and his companions in misfortune, the adventures he had to relate, mixed up (it was reported) with strange facts, excited interest and curiosity. Hugues rose to speak: there was deep silence: ‘You know, sirs,’ he began, ‘that five or six months ago, on the morrow of Holy Cross (September 15, 1525), we left here in great haste by different roads; without communicating with one another, not knowing where to go to escape the rage of the most illustrious duke, Monseigneur of Savoy. We were warned by friends that, on the demand of certain persons in this city, the prince was resolved to take us and put us ignominiously to death, because we had resisted innovations opposed to our liberties. Ah! sirs, that was no child’s play, believe me. The archers and agents of my lord of Savoy pursued us as far as St. Claude, from St. Claude to Besançon, and beyond.... We had to travel day and night in the woods, through wind and rain, not knowing where to go in quest of safety.... At last we considered that we had friends at Friburg, and thither we went.’

The citizens, riveting their eyes on Hugues, did not lose a word of his narrative and of the details which he added. They seemed to bear him company through those woods and mountains, among the ravines and snow; they fancied they heard behind them the tramp of the armed men in pursuit of them.... What struck them was not only the epic element in the flight and return of these free men, of which ancient Greece would doubtless have made one of the finest myths in her history; it was in an especial manner the sovereign importance which these acts had for them. During those sacred days, Geneva and her destinies had turned on their axis; her gates were opened on the side of light and liberty; the flight, the residence at Berne and Friburg, and the return of Hugues and his companions, are one of the most important pages in the annals of the city.

Hugues continued: he told them how Friburg and Berne had seen no other means of securing their liberties than by receiving them into their alliance.... ‘Here are the letters duly sealed with their great seals,’ said the noble orator, presenting a parchment. ‘They are written in German; but I will tell you their substance, article by article, without deceiving you in any—on my life.’ He read the act of alliance, and added: ‘Sirs, my comrades and I here present promise you, on our lives and goods, that the said citizenship is such. Consider, sirs, if you will ratify and accept it.’ The assembly testified its approbation with thanks to God, and resolved to convoke a general council for the next day. 404

The catholic party and the ducal party were aroused. The Swiss alliance, an immense innovation, threatened all the conquests they had made with so much trouble in Geneva during so many generations. The bishop, full of uneasiness, consulted with the canons and some others on whom he thought he could rely. All told him that if Berne had its way in Geneva, there would be no more bishop, no more prince. To work then! All the powers of feudalism and the papacy conspired against an alliance which first gave Geneva liberty and afterwards the Gospel. At first they wished to prevent the general council from meeting. It was customary to summon it by tolling the great bell; now Canon Lutry had the key of the tower where this bell hung. In the evening the reverend father, followed by some armed men, climbed step by step up the narrow stairs which led to the bell-loft, and placed the men in garrison there. ‘You are here,’ he said, ‘to defend the bell and not to give it up;’ he then went down, double-locked the door, and carried away the key. In the morning the door was found to be locked, and Lutry refused to open it. ‘The canons,’ it was said in the city, ‘are opposed to the assembling of the people.’ The irritated citizens ran together. ‘Whereupon there was a great uproar and alarm in the church of St. Pierre, so that De Lutry was constrained to open the door and give up the bell.’ 405

It was all over; they resolved still to fight a last battle, even with the certainty of being defeated. The general council met; the bishop went thither in person, attended by his episcopal followers, in the hope that his presence might intimidate the huguenots. ‘I am head, pastor, and prince of the community,’ he said. ‘It concerns my affairs, and I wish to know what will be laid before you.’—‘It is not the custom for my lord to be present,’ said Hugues; ‘the citizens transact none but political matters here 406which concern them wholly. His presence, however, is always pleasing to us, provided nothing be deduced from it prejudicial to our liberties.’ Thereupon Hugues proposed the alliance. Then Stephen de la Mare got up. In 1519 he had shone in the foremost rank of the patriots; but, an ardent Roman Catholic, he had since then placed liberty in the second rank and the Church in the first. It was he who had undertaken to oppose the proposition. ‘It is sufficient for us to live under the protection of God, St. Peter, and the bishop.... I oppose the alliance.’ De la Mare could not proceed, so great was the confusion that broke out in the assembly; the indignation was general, yet order and quiet were restored at last, and the treaty was read. ‘Will you ratify this alliance?’ said first syndic G. Bergeron. ‘Yes, yes!’ they shouted on every side. The syndic continued: ‘Let those who approve of it hold up their hands!’ There was a forest of hands, every man holding up both at once. ‘We desire it, we approve of it,’ they shouted again. ‘Those of the contrary opinion?’ added the syndic. Six hands only were raised in opposition. Pierre de la Baume from his episcopal throne looked down upon this spectacle with anxiety. Even to the last he had reckoned upon success. By selecting De la Mare, the old leader of the patriots, and placing him at the head of the movement against the alliance with the Swiss, he fancied he had hit upon an admirable combination; but his hopes were disappointed. Alarmed and irritated, seeing what this vote would lead to, and determined to keep his principality at any cost, the bishop-prince exclaimed: ‘I do not consent to this alliance; I appeal to our holy father the pope and to his majesty the emperor.’ But to no purpose did the Bishop of Geneva, on the eve of losing his states, appeal to powers the most dreaded—no one paid any attention to his protest. Joy beamed on every face, and the words ‘pope, emperor,’ were drowned by enthusiastic shouts of ‘The Swiss ... the Swiss and liberty!’ Besançon Hugues, who, although on the side of independence, was attached to the bishop, exerted all his influence with him. ‘Very well, then,’ said the versatile prelate, ‘if your franchises permit you to contract an alliance without your prince, do so.’—‘I take note of this declaration,’ said Hugues; and then he added: ‘More than once the citizens have concluded such alliances without their prince—with Venice, Cologne, and other cities.’ The Register mentions that after this the prince went away satisfied. We rather doubt it; but however that may be, the bishop by his presence had helped to sanction the measure which he had so much at heart to prevent. 407

What comforted Pierre de la Baume was the sight of Besançon Hugues at the head of the movement. That great citizen assured the bishop that the alliance with Switzerland was not opposed to his authority; and he did so with perfect honesty. 408Hugues was simply a conservative. He desired an alliance with Switzerland in order to preserve Geneva in her present position. He desired to maintain the prelate not only as bishop, but also as prince: all his opposition was aimed at the usurpations of Savoy. But there were minds in Geneva already wishing for more. Certain citizens, in whom the new aspirations of modern times were beginning to show themselves, said that the municipal liberties of the city were continually fettered, and often crushed, by the princely authority of the bishop. Had he not been seen to favour the cruel murders which the Savoyard power had committed in Geneva? ‘The liberties of the people and the temporal lordship of the bishop cannot exist together; one or other of the two powers must succumb,’ they said. The history of succeeding ages has shown but too plainly the reasonableness of these fears. Wherever the bishop has remained king, he has trampled the liberties of the people under foot. There we find no representative government, no liberty of the press, no religious liberty. In the eyes of the bishop-prince these great blessings of modern society are monsters to be promptly stifled. Some Genevans comprehended the danger that threatened them, and, wishing to preserve the liberties they had received from their ancestors, saw no other means than by withdrawing from the ministers of religion a worldly power which Jesus Christ had refused them beforehand. Some—but their number was very small then—went further, and began to ask whether the authority of a bishop in religious matters was not still more contrary to the precepts of the Gospel, which acknowledged no other authority than that of the word of God; and whether liberty could ever exist in the State so long as there was a despot in the Church. Such were the great questions beginning to be discussed in Geneva more than three hundred years ago: the present time seems destined to solve them.