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Title: History of the Rise of the Huguenots, Vol. 1

Author: Henry Martyn Baird

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Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HISTORY OF
THE RISE OF THE HUGUENOTS, VOL. 1 ***

HISTORY OF THE

RISE OF THE HUGUENOTS.
VOLUME I.

A REVIEW OF THIS WORK,
Occupying nearly four columns, appeared in the New York Tribune of Dec.
30th, 1879, from which the following is extracted.
"It embraces the time from the accession of Francis I. in 1515,
to the death of Charles IX. in 1574, at which epoch the doctrines
of the Reformation had become well-grounded in France, and
the Huguenots had outgrown the feebleness of infancy and stood
as a distinct and powerful body before the religious world. In
preparing the learned and elaborate work, which will give the
name of the author an honourable place on the distinguished list
of American historians, Professor Baird has made a judicious
use of the researches and discoveries which, during the last
thirty years, have shed a fresh light on the history of France at
the era of the Reformation. Among the ample stores of
knowledge which have been laid open to his inquiries are the
archives of the principal capitals of Europe, which have been
thoroughly explored for the first time during that period.
Numerous manuscripts of great value, for the most part
unknown to the learned world, have been rescued from
obscurity. At the side of the voluminous chronicles long since
printed, a rich abundance of contemporary correspondence and
hitherto inedited memoirs has accumulated, which afford a
copious collection of life-like and trustworthy views of the past.
The secrets of diplomacy have been revealed. The official
statements drawn up for the public may now be tested by the
more truthful and unguarded accounts conveyed in cipher to all
the foreign courts of Europe. Of not less importance, perhaps,
than the official publications are the fruits of private research,
among which are several valuable collections of original
documents. While the author has not failed to enrich his pages
with the materials derived from these and similar sources, he has
made a careful and patient study of the host of original
chronicles, histories, and kindred productions which have long

been more or less familiar to the world of letters. The fruits of
his studious labours, as presented in these volumes, attest his
diligence, his fidelity, his equipoise of judgment, his fairness of
mind, his clearness of perception, and his accuracy of statement.
"While the research and well-digested erudition exhibited in this
work are eminently creditable to the learning and scholarship of
the author, its literary execution amply attests the excellence of
his taste, and his judgment and skill in the art of composition.
His work is one of the most important recent contributions to
American literature, and is entitled to a sincere greeting for its
manifold learning and scholarly spirit."

HISTORY OF THE
RISE OF THE HUGUENOTS.
BY

HENRY M. BAIRD,
PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE CITY OF NEW
YORK.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.
FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE FRENCH
REFORMATION TO THE EDICT OF
JANUARY (1562).

London:
HODDER AND STOUGHTON,
27, PATERNOSTER ROW.
MDCCCLXXX.

Hazell, Watson, and Viney, Printers, London and Aylesbury

PREFACE.
The period of about half a century with which these volumes are concerned
may properly be regarded as the formative age of the Huguenots of France.
It included the first planting of the reformed doctrines, and the steady
growth of the Reformation in spite of obloquy and persecution, whether
exercised under the forms of law or vented in lawless violence. It saw the
gathering and the regular organization of the reformed communities, as well
as their consolidation into one of the most orderly and zealous churches of
the Protestant family. It witnessed the failure of the bloody legislation of
three successive monarchs, and the equally abortive efforts of a fourth
monarch to destroy the Huguenots, first with the sword and afterward with
the dagger. At the close of this period the faith and resolution of the
Huguenots had survived four sanguinary wars into which they had been
driven by their implacable enemies. They were just entering upon a fifth
war, under favorable auspices, for they had made it manifest to all men that
their success depended less upon the lives of leaders, of whom they might
be robbed by the hand of the assassin, than upon a conviction of the
righteousness of their cause, which no sophistry of their opponents could
dissipate. The Huguenots, at the death of Charles the Ninth, stood before
the world a well-defined body, that had outgrown the feebleness of infancy,
and had proved itself entitled to consideration and respect. Thus much was
certain.
The subsequent fortunes of the Huguenots of France—their wars until they
obtained recognition and some measure of justice in the Edict of Nantes;
the gradual infringement upon their guaranteed rights, culminating in the
revocation of the edict, and the loss to the kingdom of the most industrious
part of the population; their sufferings "under the cross" until the
publication of the Edict of Toleration—these offer an inviting field of
investigation, upon which I may at some future time be tempted to enter.[1]
The history of the Huguenots during a great part of the period covered by
this work, is, in fact, the history of France as well. The outlines of the action
and some of the characters that come upon the stage are, consequently,

familiar to the reader of general history. The period has been treated
cursorily in writings extending over wider limits, while several of the most
striking incidents, including, especially, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew's
Day, have been made the subject of special disquisitions. Yet, although
much study and ingenuity have been expended in elucidating the more
difficult and obscure points, there is, especially in the English language, a
lack of works upon the general theme, combining painstaking investigation
into the older (but not, necessarily, better known) sources of information,
and an acquaintance with the results of modern research.
The last twenty-five or thirty years have been remarkably fruitful in
discoveries and publications shedding light upon the history of France
during the age of the Reformation and the years immediately following. The
archives of all the principal, and many of the secondary, capitals of Europe
have been explored. Valuable manuscripts previously known to few
scholars—if, indeed, known to any—have been rescued from obscurity and
threatened destruction. By the side of the voluminous histories and
chronicles long since printed, a rich store of contemporary correspondence
and hitherto inedited memoirs has been accumulated, supplying at once the
most copious and the most trustworthy fund of life-like views of the past.
The magnificent "Collection de Documents Inédits sur l'Histoire de
France," still in course of publication by the Ministry of Public Instruction,
comprehends in its grand design not only extended memoirs, like those of
Claude Haton of Provins, but the even more important portfolios of leading
statesmen, such as those of Secretary De l'Aubespine and Cardinal
Granvelle (not less indispensable for French than for Dutch affairs), and the
correspondence of monarchs, as of Henry the Fourth. The secrets of
diplomacy have been revealed. Those singularly accurate and sensible
reports made to the Doge and Senate of Venice, by the ambassadors of the
republic, upon their return from the French court, can be read in the
collections of Venetian Relations of Tommaseo and Albèri, or as
summarized by Ranke and Baschet. The official statements drawn up for
the eyes of the public may now be confronted with and tested by the more
truthful and unguarded accounts conveyed in cipher to all the foreign courts
of Europe. Including the partial collections of despatches heretofore put in
print, we possess, regarding many critical events, the narratives and
opinions of such apt observers as the envoys of Spain, of the German

Empire, of Venice, and of the Pope, of Wurtemberg, Saxony, and the
Palatinate. Above all, we have access to the continuous series of letters of
the English ambassadors and minor agents, comprising Sir Thomas Smith,
Sir Nicholas Throkmorton, Walsingham, Jones, Killigrew, and others,
scarcely less skilful in the use of the pen than in the art of diplomacy. This
English correspondence, parts of which were printed long ago by Digges,
Dr. Patrick Forbes, and Haynes, and other portions by Hardwick, Wright,
Tytler-Fraser, etc., can now be read in London, chiefly in the Record Office,
and is admirably analyzed in the invaluable "Calendars of State Papers
(Foreign Series)," published under the direction of the Master of the Rolls.
Too much weight can scarcely be given to this source of information and
illustration. One of the learned editors enthusiastically remarks concerning
a part of it (the letters of Throkmorton[2]): "The historical literature of
France, rich as it confessedly is in memoirs and despatches of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, possesses (as far as I am aware) no series of
papers which can compare either in continuity, fidelity, or minuteness, with
the correspondence of Throkmorton.... He had his agents and his spies
everywhere throughout France."
Little, if at all, inferior in importance to governmental publications, are the
fruits of private research. Several voluminous collections of original
documents deserve special mention. Not to speak of the publications of the
national French Historical Society, the "Société de l'Histoire du
Protestantisme Français" has given to the world, in its monthly Bulletin, so
many hitherto inedited documents, besides a great number of excellent
monographs, that the volumes of this periodical, now in its twenty-eighth
year, constitute in themselves an indispensable library of reference. That
admirable biographical work, "La France Protestante," by the brothers Haag
(at present in course of revision and enlargement); the "Correspondance des
Réformateurs dans les Pays de Langue Française," by M. Herminjard (of
which five volumes have come out), a signal instance of what a single
indefatigable student can accomplish; the collections of Calvin's Letters, by
M. Jules Bonnet; and the magnificent edition of the same reformer's works,
by Professors Baum, Cunitz, and Reuss, a treasury of learning, rich in
surprises for the historical student—all these merit more particular
description than can here be given. The biography of Beza, by Professor
Baum, the history of the Princes of Condé, by the Due d'Aumale, the

correspondence of Frederick the Pious, edited by Kluckholn, etc., contribute
a great deal of previously unpublished material. The sumptuous work of M.
Douen on Clément Marot and the Huguenot Psalter sheds new light upon an
interesting, but until now obscure subject. The writings of Farel and his
associates have been rescued from the oblivion to which the extreme
scarcity of the extant copies consigned them; and the "Vray Usage de la
Croix," the "Sommaire," and the "Manière et Fasson," can at last be read in
elegant editions, faithful counterparts of the originals in every point save
typographical appearance. The same may be said of such celebrated but
hitherto unattainable rarities as the "Tigre" of 1560, scrupulously
reproduced in fac-simile, by M. Charles Read, of Paris, from the copy
belonging to the Hôtel-de-Ville, and the fugitive songs and hymns which M.
Bordier has gathered in his "Chansonnier Huguenot."
No little value belongs, also, to certain contemporary journals of
occurrences given to the world under the titles of "Journal d'un Bourgeois
de Paris sous le règne de François Ier," "Cronique du Roy Françoys,
premier de ce nom," "Journal d'un curé ligueur de Paris sous les trois
derniers Valois (Jehan de la Fosse)," "Journal de Jean Glaumeau de
Bourges," etc.
The revival of interest in the fortunes of their ancestors has led a
considerable number of French Protestants to prepare works bearing upon
the history of Protestantism in particular cities and provinces. Among these
may be noted the works of MM. Douen and Rossier, on Picardy; Recordon,
on Champagne; Lièvre, on Poitou; Bujeaud, on Angoumois; Vaurigaud, on
Brittany; Arnaud, on Dauphiny; Coquerel, on Paris; Borrel, on Nismes;
Callot and Delmas, on La Rochelle; Crottet, on Pons, Gémozac, and
Mortagne; Corbière, on Montpellier, etc. Although these books differ
greatly in intrinsic importance, and in regard to the exercise of historical
criticism, they all have a valid claim to attention by reason of the evidence
they afford of individual research.
Of the new light thrown upon the rise of the Huguenots by these and similar
works, it has been my aim to make full use. At the same time I have been
convinced that no adequate knowledge of the period can be obtained, save
by mastering the great array of original chronicles, histories, and kindred
productions with which the literary world has long been acquainted, at least

by name. This result I have, accordingly, endeavored to reach by careful
and patient reading. It is unnecessary to specify in detail the numerous
authors through whose writings it became my laborious but by no means
ungrateful task to make my way, for the marginal notes will indicate the
exact line of the study pursued. It may be sufficient to say, omitting many
other names scarcely less important, that I have assiduously studied the
works of De Thou, Agrippa d'Aubigné, La Place, La Planche; the important
"Histoire Ecclésiastique," ascribed to Theodore de Bèze; the "Actiones et
Monimenta" of Crespin; the memoirs of Castelnau, Vieilleville, Du Bellay,
Tavannes, La Noue, Montluc, Lestoile, and other authors of this period,
included in the large collections of memoirs of Petitot, Michaud and
Poujoulat, etc.; the writings of Brantôme; the Commentaries of Jean de
Serres, in their various editions, as well as other writings attributed to the
same author; the rich "Mémoires de Condé," both in their original and their
enlarged form; the series of important documents comprehended in the
"Archives curieuses" of Cimber and Danjou; the disquisitions collected by
M. Leber; the histories of Davila, Florimond de Ræmond, Maimbourg,
Varillas, Soulier, Mézeray, Gaillard; the more recent historical works of
Sismondi, Martin, Michelet, Floquet; the volumes of Browning, Smedley,
and White, in English, of De Félice, Drion, and Puaux, in French, of
Barthold, Von Raumer, Ranke, Polenz, Ebeling, and Soldan, in German.
The principal work of Professor Soldan, in particular, bounded by the same
limits of time with those of the present history, merits, in virtue of accuracy
and thoroughness, a wider recognition than it seems yet to have attained.
My own independent investigations having conducted me over much of the
ground traversed by Professor Soldan, I have enjoyed ample opportunity for
testing the completeness of his study and the judicial fairness of his
conclusions.
The posthumous treatise of Professor H. Wuttke, "Zur Vorgeschichte der
Bartholomäusnacht," published in Leipsic since the present work was
placed in the printer's hands, reached me too late to be noticed in
connection with the narrative of the events which it discusses.
Notwithstanding Professor Wuttke's recognized ability and assiduity as a
historical investigator, I am unable to adopt the position at which he arrives.
I desire here to acknowledge my obligation for valuable assistance in
prosecuting my researches to my lamented friend and correspondent,

Professor Jean Guillaume Baum, long and honorably connected with the
Académie de Strasbourg, than whom France could boast no more
indefatigable or successful student of her annals, and who consecrated his
leisure hours during forty years to the enthusiastic study of the history of
the French and Swiss Reformation. If that history is better understood now
than when, in 1838, he submitted as a theological thesis his astonishingly
complete "Origines Evangelii in Gallia restaurati," the progress is due in
great measure to his patient labors. To M. Jules Bonnet, under whose skilful
editorship the Bulletin of the French Protestant Historical Society has
reached its present excellence, I am indebted for help afforded me in
solving, by means of researches among the MSS. of the Bibliothèque
Rationale at Paris, and the Simler Collection at Zurich, several difficult
problems. To these names I may add those of M. Henri Bordier,
Bibliothécaire Honoraire in the Department of MSS. (Bibliothèque
Rationale), of M. Raoul de Cazenove, of Lyons, author of many highly
prized monographs on Huguenot topics, and of the Rev. John Forsyth, D.D.,
who have in various ways rendered me valuable services.
Finally, I deem it both a duty and a privilege to express my warm thanks to
the librarians of the Princeton Theological Seminary and of the Union
Theological Seminary in this city; and particularly to the successive
superintendents and librarians of the Astor Library—both the living and the
dead—by the signal courtesy of whom, the whole of that admirable
collection of books has been for many years placed at my disposal for
purposes of consultation so freely, that nothing has been wanting to make
the work of study in its alcoves as pleasant and effective as possible.
University of the City of New York,
September 15, 1879.

CONTENTS
OF

VOLUME FIRST.

BOOK I.
CHAPTER I
Page
France in the Sixteenth Century 3
Extent at the Accession of Francis I. 3
Gradual Territorial Growth 4
Subdivision in the Tenth Century 5
Destruction of the Feudal System 5
The Foremost Kingdom of Christendom 6
Assimilation of Manners and Language 8
Growth and Importance of Paris 9
Military Strength 10
The Rights of the People overlooked 11
The States General not convoked 12
Unmurmuring Endurance of the Tiers État 13
Absolutism of the Crown 14
Partial Checks 15
The Parliament of Paris 16
Other Parliaments 17
The Parliaments claim the Right of Remonstrance 17
Abuses in the Parliament of Bordeaux 19
Origin and Growth of the University 20
Faculty of Theology, or Sorbonne 22
Its Authority and Narrowness 23
Multitude of Students 24

Credit of the Clergy 25
Liberties of the Gallican Church 25
Pragmatic Sanction of. St. Louis (1268) 26
Conflict of Philip the Fair with Boniface VIII. 27
The "Babylonish Captivity" 28
Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges (1438) 29
Rejoicing at the Council of Basle 31
Louis XI. undertakes to abrogate the Pragmatic Sanction 32
But subsequently re-enacts it in part 33
Louis XII. publishes it anew 35
Francis I. sacrifices the Interests of the Gallican Church 35
Concordat between Leo X. and the French King 36
Dissatisfaction of the Clergy 37
Struggle with the Parliament of Paris 37
Opposition of the University 39
Patronage of the King 41
The "Renaissance" 41
Francis's Acquirements overrated 42
His Munificent Patronage of Art 42
The Collége Royal, or "Trilingue" 43
An Age of Blood 44
Barbarous Punishment for Crime 45
And not less for Heresy 46
Belief in Judicial Astrology 47
Predictions of Nostradamus 47
Reverence for Relics 49
For the Consecrated Wafer 50
Internal Condition of the Clergy 51
Number and Wealth of the Cardinals 51
Non-residence of Prelates 52
Revenues of the Clergy 52
Vice and Hypocrisy 53
Brantôme's Account of the Clergy before the Concordat 54
Aversion to the Use of the French Language 56

Indecent Processions—"Processions Blanches" 59
The Monastic Orders held in Contempt 60
Protests against prevailing Corruption 61
The "Cathari," or Albigenses 61
Nicholas de Clemangis 63
John Gerson 64
Jean Bouchet's "Deploration of the Church" 65

Changes in the Boundaries of France during the 16th Century 66

CHAPTER II.
1512-1525.
The Reformation in Meaux 67
Jacques Lefèvre d'Étaples 67
Restores Letters to France 68
Wide Range of his Studies 68
Guillaume Farel, his Pupil 68
Devotion of Teacher and Scholar 69
Lefèvre publishes a Latin Commentary on the Pauline Epistles
70
(1512)
Enters into Controversy with Natalis Beda (1518) 71
The Sorbonne's Declaration (Nov. 9, 1521) 71
Briçonnet, Bishop of Meaux 72
His First Reformatory Efforts 72
Invites Lefèvre and Farel to Meaux 73
Effects of the Preaching of Roussel and others 74
De Roma's Threat 76
Lefèvre publishes a Translation of the New Testament (1523) 77
The Results surpass Expectation 79
Bishop Briçonnet's Weakness 80
Forbids the "Lutheran" Doctors to preach 81
Lefèvre and Roussel take Refuge in Strasbourg 84

Jean Leclerc whipped and branded 87
His barbarous Execution at Metz 88
Pauvan burned on the Place de Grève 89
The Hermit of Livry 92
Briçonnet becomes a Jailer of "Lutherans" 92
Lefèvre's Writings condemned by the Sorbonne (1525) 93
He becomes Tutor of Prince Charles 94
Librarian at Blois 94
Ends his Days at Nérac 95
His Mental Anguish 95
Michel d'Arande and Gérard Roussel 96

CHAPTER III.
1523-1525.
Francis I. and Margaret of Angoulême—Early Reformatory
99
Movements and Struggles
Francis I. and Margaret of Angoulême 99
The King's Chivalrous Disposition 100
Appreciates Literary Excellence 101
Contrast with Charles V. 101
His Religious Convictions 102
His Fear of Innovation 102
His Loose Morality 103
Margaret's Scholarly Attainments 104
Her Personal Appearance 105
Her Participation in Public Affairs 106
Her First Marriage to the Duke of Alençon 106
Obtains a Safe-Conduct to visit her Brother 106
Her Second Marriage, to Henry, King of Navarre 107
Bishop Briçonnet's Mystic Correspondence 108
Luther's Teachings solemnly condemned by the University 108
Melanchthon's Defence 109
Regency of Louise de Savoie 109

The Sorbonne suggests Means of extirpating the "Lutheran
110
Doctrines" (Oct. 7, 1523)
Wide Circulation of Luther's Treatises 112
François Lambert, of Avignon 112
Life among the Franciscans 113
Lambert, the first French Monk to embrace the Reformation 113
He is also the First to Marry 114
Jean Châtellain at Metz 114
Wolfgang Schuch at St. Hippolyte 115
Farel at Montbéliard 117
Pierre Caroli lectures on the Psalms 118

The Heptameron of the Queen of Navarre 119

CHAPTER IV.
1525-1533.
Increased Severity—Louis de Berquin 122
Captivity of Francis I. 122
Change in the Religious Policy of Louise 123
A Commission appointed to try "Lutherans" 124
The Inquisition heretofore jealously watched 125
The Commission indorsed by Clement VII. 126
Its Powers enlarged by the Bull 128
Character of Louis de Berquin 128
He becomes a warm Partisan of the Reformation 129
First Imprisonment (1523) 130
Released by Order of the King 130
Advice of Erasmus 131
Second Imprisonment (1526) 131
Francis from Madrid again orders his Release 132
Dilatory Measures of Parliament 132
Margaret of Angoulême's Hopes 133

Francis violates his Pledges to Charles V. 134
Must conciliate the Pope and Clergy 135
Promises to prove himself "Very Christian" 137
The Council of Sens (1528) 138
Cardinal Duprat 138
Vigorous Measures to suppress Reformation 139
The Councils of Bourges and Lyons 139
Financial Help bought by Persecution 140
Insult to an Image and an Expiatory Procession 141
Other Iconoclastic Excesses 143
Berquin's Third Arrest 143
His Condemnation to Penance, Branding, and Perpetual
145
Imprisonment
He Appeals 145
Is suddenly Sentenced to Death and Executed 146
Francis Treats with the Germans 147
And with Henry VIII. of England 148
Francis meets Clement at Marseilles 148
Marriage of Henry of Orleans to Catharine de' Medici 148
Francis Refuses to join in a general Scheme for the Extermination of
149
Heresy
Execution of Jean de Caturce, at Toulouse 150
Le Coq's Evangelical Sermon 151
Margaret attacked at College of Navarre 152
Her "Miroir de l'Ame Pécheresse" condemned 152
Rector Cop's Address to the University 153
Calvin, the real Author, seeks Safety in Flight 154
Rough Answer of Francis to the Bernese 155
Royal Letter to the Bishop of Paris 156

Elegies on Louis de Berquin 157

CHAPTER V.
1534-1535.
Melanchthon's Attempt at Conciliation, and the Year of the
159
Placards
Hopes of Reunion in the Church 159
Melanchthon and Du Bellay 160
A Plan of Reconciliation 160
Its Extreme Concessions 161
Makes a Favorable Impression on Francis 162
Indiscreet Partisans of Reform 162
Placards and Pasquinades 163
Féret's Mission to Switzerland 164
The Placard against the Mass 164
Excitement produced in Paris (Oct. 18, 1534) 167
A Copy posted on the Door of the Royal Bedchamber 167
Anger of Francis at the Insult 167
Political Considerations 168
Margaret of Navarre's Entreaties 168
Francis Abolishes the Art of Printing (Jan. 13, 1535) 169
The Rash and Shameful Edict Recalled 170
Rigid Investigation and many Victims 171
The Expiatory Procession (Jan. 21, 1535) 173
The King's Speech at the Episcopal Palace 176
Constancy of the Victims 177
The Estrapade 177
Flight of Clément Marot and others 179
Royal Declaration of Coucy (July 16, 1535) 179
Alleged Intercession of Pope Paul III. 180
Clemency again dictated by Policy 181
Francis's Letter to the German Princes 182
Sturm and Voré beg Melanchthon to come 182
Melanchthon's Perplexity 183
He is formally invited by the King 184
Applies to the Elector for Permission to go 184

But is roughly refused 185
The Proposed Conference reprobated by the Sorbonne 187
Du Bellay at Smalcald 188
He makes for Francis a Protestant Confession 189
Efforts of French Protestants in Switzerland and Germany 191
Intercession of Strasbourg, Basle, etc. 191
Unsatisfactory Reply by Anne de Montmorency 193

CHAPTER VI.
1535-1545.
Calvin and Geneva—More Systematic Persecution by the King 193
Changed Attitude of Francis 193
Occasioned by the "Placards" 194
Margaret of Navarre and Roussel 195
The French Reformation becomes a Popular Movement 196
Independence of Geneva secured by Francis 197
John Calvin's Childhood 198
He studies in Paris and Orleans 199
Change of Religious Views at Bourges 199
His Commentary on Seneca's "De Clementia" 200
Escapes from Paris to Angoulême 201
Leaves France 202
The "Christian Institutes" 202
Address to Francis the First 203
Calvin wins instant Celebrity 204
The Court of Renée of Ferrara 205
Her History and Character 206
Calvin's alleged Visit to Aosta 207
He visits Geneva 208
Farel's Vehemence 209
Calvin consents to remain 210
His Code of Laws for Geneva 210
His View of the Functions of the State 210
Heretics to be constrained by the Sword 211

Calvin's View that of the other Reformers 212
And even of Protestant Martyrs 212
Calvin longs for Scholarly Quiet 213
His Mental Constitution 214
Ill-health and Prodigious Labors 214
Friendly and Inimical Estimates 214
Violent Persecutions throughout France 216
Royal Edict of Fontainebleau (June 1, 1540) 218
Increased Severity, and Appeal cut off 218
Exceptional Fairness of President Caillaud 219
Letters-Patent from Lyons (Aug. 30, 1542) 220
The King and the Sacramentarians 221
Ordinance of Paris (July 23, 1543) 221
Heresy to be punished as Sedition 222
Repression proves a Failure 222
The Sorbonne publishes Twenty-five Articles 223
Francis gives them the Force of Law (March 10, 1543) 224
More Systematic Persecution 224
The Inquisitor Mathieu Ory 224
The Nicodemites and Libertines 225
Margaret of Navarre at Bordeaux 226
Francis's Negotiations in Germany 227
Hypocritical Representations made by Charles, Duke of Orleans 228

CHAPTER VII.
1545-1547.
Campaign against the Vaudois of Mérindol and Cabrières, and
230
Last Days of Francis I.
The Vaudois of the Durance 230
Their Industry and Thrift 230
Embassy to German and Swiss Reformers 232
Translation of the Bible by Olivetanus 233
Preliminary Persecutions 234
The Parliament of Aix 235

The Atrocious "Arrêt de Mérindol" (Nov. 18, 1540) 236
Condemned by Public Opinion 237
Preparations to carry it into Effect 237
President Chassanée and the Mice of Autun 238
The King instructs Du Bellay to investigate 239
A Favorable Report 240
Francis's Letter of Pardon 241
Parliament's Continued Severity 241
The Vaudois publish a Confession 242
Intercession of the Protestant Princes of Germany 242
The new President of Parliament 243
Sanguinary Royal Order, fraudulently obtained (Jan. 1, 1545) 244
Expedition stealthily organized 245
Villages burned—their Inhabitants murdered 246
Destruction of Mérindol 247
Treacherous Capture of Cabrières 248
Women burned and Men butchered 248
Twenty-two Towns and Villages destroyed 249
A subsequent Investigation 251
"The Fourteen of Meaux" 253
Wider Diffusion of the Reformed Doctrines 256
The Printer Jean Chapot before Parliament 256

CHAPTER VIII.
1547-1559.
Henry the Second and the Organization of the French Protestant
258
Churches
Impartial Estimates of Francis the First 258
Henry, as Duke of Orleans 259
His Sluggish Mind 260
His Court 261
Diana of Poitiers 262
The King's Infatuation 262
Constable Anne de Montmorency 263

His Cruelty 264
Disgraced by Francis, but recalled by Henry 265
Duke Claude of Guise, and John, first Cardinal of Lorraine 266
Marriage of James the Fifth of Scotland to Mary of Lorraine 268
Francis the Dauphin affianced to Mary of Scots 268
Francis of Guise and Charles of Lorraine 268
Various Estimates of Cardinal Charles of Lorraine 270
Rapacity of the new Favorites 272
Servility toward Diana of Poitiers 273
Persecution to atone for Moral Blemishes 274
"La Chambre Ardente" 275
Edict of Fontainebleau against Books from Geneva (Dec. 11, 1547) 275
Deceptive Title-pages 275
The Tailor of the Rue St. Antoine 276
Other Victims of Intolerance 278
Severe Edicts and Quarrels with Rome 278
Edict of Châteaubriand (June 27, 1551) 279
The War against Books from Geneva 280
Marshal Vieilleville refuses to profit by Confiscation 282
The "Five Scholars of Lausanne" 283
Interpositions in their Behalf ineffectual 284
Activity of the Canton of Berne 286
Progress of the Reformation in Normandy 287
Attempt to establish the Spanish Inquisition 287
Opposition of Parliament 288
President Séguier's Speech 289
Coligny's Scheme of American Colonization 291
Villegagnon in Brazil 292
He brings Ruin on the Expedition 293
First Protestant Church in Paris 294
The Example followed in the Provinces 296
Henry the Second breaks the Truce 297
Fresh Attempts to introduce the Spanish Inquisition 298
Three Inquisitors-General 299

Judges sympathize with the Victims 300
Edict of Compiègne (July 24, 1557) 301
Defeat of St. Quentin (August 10, 1557) 302
Vengeance wreaked upon the Protestants 302
Affair of the Rue St. Jacques (Sept. 4, 1557) 303
Treatment of the Prisoners 304
Malicious Rumors 305
Trials and Executions 307
Intercession of the Swiss Cantons and Others 308
Constancy of Some and Release of Others 311
Controversial Pamphlets 311
Capture of Calais (January, 1558) 312
Registry of the Inquisition Edict 312
Antoine of Navarre, Condé, and other Princes favor the Protestants 313
Embassy of the Protestant Electors 313
Psalm-singing on the Pré aux Clercs 314
Conference of Cardinals Lorraine and Granvelle 315
D'Andelot's Examination before the King 317
His Constancy in Prison and temporary Weakness 318
Paul IV.'s Indignation at the King's Leniency 320
Anxiety for Peace 321
Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis (April 3, 1559) 322
Sacrifice of French Interests 323
Was there a Secret Treaty for the Extermination of Protestants? 324
The Prince of Orange learns the Designs of Henry and Philip 325
Danger of Geneva 320
Parliament suspected of Heretical Leanings 329
The "Mercuriale" 330
Henry goes in Person to hear the Deliberations (June 10, 1559) 332
Fearlessness of Du Bourg and Others 334
Henry orders their Arrest 335
First National Synod (May 26, 1559) 335
Ecclesiastical Discipline adopted 336
Marriages and Festivities of the Court 338

Henry mortally wounded in the Tournament (June 30, 1559) 339
His Death (July 10, 1559) 340

"La Façon de Genève"—the Protestant Service 341
Farel's "Manière et Fasson" (1533) 342
Calvin's Liturgy (1542) 343

CHAPTER IX.
July, 1559-May, 1560.
Francis the Second and the Tumult of Amboise 346
Epigrams on the Death of Henry 346
The Young King 347
Catharine de' Medici 348
Favors the Family of Guise 350
Who make themselves Masters of the King 351
Constable Montmorency retires 352
Antoine, King of Navarre 354
His Remissness and Pusillanimity 355
The Persecution continues 359
Denunciation and Pillage at Paris 360
The Protestants address Catharine 362
Pretended Orgies in "La Petite Genève" 365
Cruelty of the Populace 366
Traps for Heretics 367
Trial of Anne du Bourg 368
Intercession of the Elector Palatine 370
Du Bourg's Last Speech 371
His Execution and its Effect 372
Florimond de Ræmond's Observations 374
Revulsion against the Tyranny of the Guises 375
Calvin and Beza discountenance Armed Resistance 377
De la Renaudie 379

Assembly of Malcontents at Nantes 380
Plans well devised 381
Betrayed by Des Avenelles 382
The "Tumult of Amboise" 383
Coligny gives Catharine good Counsel 384
The Edict of Amnesty (March, 1560) 385
A Year's Progress 386
Confusion at Court 387
Treacherous Capture of Castelnau 388
Death of La Renaudie 389
Plenary Commission given to the Duke of Guise 389
A Carnival of Blood 391
The Elder D'Aubigné and his Son 393
Francis and the Prince of Condé 393
Condé's Defiance 394

An alleged Admission of Disloyal Intentions by La Renaudie 394

CHAPTER X.
May-December, 1560.
The Assembly of Notables at Fontainebleau, and the Close of the
397
Reign of Francis the Second
Rise of the Name of the Huguenots 397
Their Sudden Growth 399
How to be accounted for 400
Progress of Letters 400
Marot's and Beza's Psalms 402
Morality and Martyrdom 402
Character of the Protestant Ministers 402
Testimony of Bishop Montluc 403
Preaching in the Churches of Valence 404
The Reformation and Morals 406

Francis orders Extermination 406
Large Congregations at Nismes 407
Mouvans in Provence 407
A Popular Awakening 408
Pamphlets against the Guises 409
Catharine consults the Huguenots 409
Edict of Romorantin (May, 1560) 410
No Abatement of Rigorous Persecution 411
Spiritual Jurisdiction differing little from the Inquisition 411
Chancellor Michel de l'Hospital 412
Continued Disquiet—Montbrun 414
Assembly of Notables at Fontainebleau (Aug. 21, 1560) 415
The Chancellor's Address 416
The Finances of France 416
Admiral Coligny presents the Petitions of the Huguenots 416
Bishop Montluc ably advocates Toleration 418
Bishop Marillac's Eloquent Speech 420
Coligny's Suggestions 421
Passionate Rejoinder of the Duke of Guise 422
The Cardinal of Lorraine more calm 423
New Alarms of the Guises 424
The King of Navarre and Condé summoned to Court 425
Advice of Philip of Spain 426
Navarre's Irresolution embarrasses Montbrun and Mouvans 427
The "Fashion of Geneva" embraced by many in Languedoc 428
Elections for the States General 430
The King and Queen of Navarre 431
Beza at the Court of Nérac 432
New Pressure to induce Navarre and Condé to come 433
Navarre Refuses a Huguenot Escort 434
Disregards Warnings 435
Is refused Admission to Poitiers 435
Condé arrested on arriving at Orleans 436
Return of Renée de France 437

Condé's Intrepidity 437
He is Tried and Condemned to Death 439
Antoine of Navarre's Danger 440
Plan for annihilating the Huguenots 441
Sudden Illness and Death of Francis the Second 442

The "Epître au Tigre de la France" 445

CHAPTER XI.
December, 1560-September, 1561.
The Reign of Charles the Ninth, to the Preliminaries of the
449
Colloquy of Poissy
Sudden Change in the Political Situation 449
The Enemy of the Huguenots buried as a Huguenot 450
Antoine of Navarre's Opportunity 451
Adroitness of Catharine de' Medici 452
Financial Embarrassments 453
Catharine's Neutrality 453
Opening of the States General of Orleans 454
Address of Chancellor L'Hospital 455
Cardinal Lorraine's Effrontery 457
De Rochefort, Orator for the Noblesse 457
L'Ange for the Tiers État 458
Arrogant Speech of Quintin for the Clergy 458
A Word for the poor, down-trodden People 459
Coligny presents a Huguenot Petition 461
The States prorogued 461
Meanwhile Prosecutions for Religion to cease 462
Return of Fugitives 463
Charles writes to stop Ministers from Geneva 463
Reply of the Genevese 464
Condé cleared and reconciled with Guise 465

Humiliation of Navarre 466
The Boldness of the Particular Estates of Paris 467
Secures Antoine more Consideration 467
Intrigue of Artus Désiré 468
General Curiosity to hear Huguenot Preaching 468
Constable Montmorency's Disgust 469
The "Triumvirate" formed 471
A Spurious Statement 471
Massacres of Protestants in Holy Week 474
The Affair at Beauvais 474
Assault on the House of M. de Longjumeau 476
New and Tolerant Royal Order 476
Opposition of the Parisian Parliament 477
Popular Cry for Pastors 479
Moderation of the Huguenot Ministers 479
Judicial Perplexity 481
The "Mercuriale" of 1561 481
The "Edict of July" 483
Its Severity creates extreme Disappointment 484
Iconoclasm at Montauban 485
Impatience with Public "Idols" 487
Calvin endeavors to repress it 487
Re-assembling of the States at Pontoise 488
Able Harangue of the "Vierg" of Autun 489
Written Demands of the Tiers État 490
A Representative Government demanded 492
The French Prelates at Poissy 493
Beza and Peter Martyr invited to France 494
Urgency of the Parisian Huguenots 496
Beza comes to St. Germain 497
His previous History 497
Wrangling of the Prelates 498
Cardinal Châtillon communes "under both Forms" 499

Catharine and L'Hospital zealous for a Settlement of Religious
499
Questions
A Remarkable Letter to the Pope 500
Beza's flattering Reception 502
He meets the Cardinal of Lorraine 503
Petition of the Huguenots respecting the Colloquy 505
Informally granted 507
Last Efforts of the Sorbonne to prevent the Colloquy 508

CHAPTER XII.
September, 1561-January, 1562.
The Colloquy of Poissy and the Edict of January 509
The Huguenot Ministers and Delegates 509
Assembled Princes in the Nuns' Refectory 510
The Prelates 511
Diffidence of Theodore Beza 512
Opening Speech of Chancellor L'Hospital 512
The Huguenots summoned 513
Beza's Prayer and Address 514
His Declaration as to the Body of Christ 519
Outcry of the Theologians of the Sorbonne 519
Beza's Peroration 520
Cardinal Tournon would cut short the Conference 521
Catharine de' Medici is decided 522
Advantages gained 522
The Impression made by Beza 522
His Frankness justified 524
The Prelates' Notion of a Conference 526
Peter Martyr arrives 527
Cardinal Lorraine replies to Beza 528
Cardinal Tournon's new Demand 529
Advancing Shadows of Civil War 530
Another Session reluctantly conceded 531
Beza's Reply to Cardinal Lorraine 532

Claude d'Espense and Claude de Sainctes 532
Lorraine demands Subscription to the Augsburg Confession 533
Beza's Home Thrust 534
Peter Martyr and Lainez the Jesuit 536
Close of the Colloquy of Poissy 537
A Private Conference at St. Germain 538
A Discussion of Words 540
Catharine's Premature Delight 541
The Article agreed upon Rejected by the Prelates 541
Catharine's Financial Success 543
Order for the Restitution of Churches 544
Arrival of Five German Delegates 544
Why the Colloquy proved a Failure 546
Catharine's Crude Notion of a Conference 547
Character of the Prelates 547
Influence of the Papal Legate, the Cardinal of Ferrara 548
Anxiety of Pius the Fourth 548
The Nuncio Santa Croce 549
Master Renard turned Monk 551
Opposition of People and Chancellor 551
The Legate's Intrigues 552
His Influence upon Antoine of Navarre 554
Contradictory Counsels 555
The Triumvirate leave in Disgust 556
Hopes entertained by the Huguenots respecting Charles 557
Beza is begged to remain 559
A Spanish Plot to kidnap the Duke of Orleans 559
The Number of Huguenot Churches 560
Beza secures a favorable Royal order 560
Rapid Growth of the Reformation 561
Immense Assemblages from far and near 562
The Huguenots at Montpellier 563
The Rein and not the Spur needed 565
Marriages and Baptisms at Court "after the Geneva Fashion" 565

Tanquerel's Seditious Declaration 566
Jean de Hans 567
Philip threatens Interference in French Affairs 567
"A True Defender of the Faith" 568
Roman Catholic Complaints of Huguenot Boldness 570
The "Tumult of Saint Médard" 571
Assembly of Notables at St. Germain 574
Diversity of Sentiments 575
The "Edict of January" 576
The Huguenots no longer Outlaws 577

BOOK FIRST.
FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE FRENCH
REFORMATION TO THE EDICT OF JANUARY (1562).

CHAPTER I.
FRANCE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

When, on the first day of the year 1515, the young
Count of Angoulême succeeded to the throne left vacant Extent of France at
by the death of his kinsman and father-in-law, Louis the the accession of
Francis the First.
Twelfth, the country of which he became monarch was
already an extensive, flourishing, and well-consolidated kingdom. The
territorial development of France was, it is true, far from complete. On the
north, the whole province of Hainault belonged to the Spanish Netherlands,
whose boundary line was less than one hundred miles distant from Paris.
Alsace and Lorraine had not yet been wrested from the German Empire.
The "Duchy" of Burgundy, seized by Louis the Eleventh immediately after
the death of Charles the Bold, had, indeed, been incorporated into the
French realm; but the "Free County" of Burgundy—la Franche Comté, as it
was briefly designated—had been imprudently suffered to fall into other
hands, and Besançon was the residence of a governor appointed by princes
of the House of Hapsburg. Lyons was a frontier town; for the little districts
of Bresse and Bugey, lying between the Saône and Rhône, belonged to the
Dukes of Savoy. Further to the south, two fragments of foreign territory
were completely enveloped by the domain of the French king. The first was
the sovereign principality of Orange, which, after having been for over a
century in the possession of the noble House of Châlons, was shortly to
pass into that of Nassau, and to furnish the title of William the Silent, the
future deliverer of Holland. The other and larger one was the Comtât
Venaissin, a fief directly dependent upon the Pope. Of irregular shape, and
touching the Rhone both above and below Orange, the Comtât Venaissin
nearly enclosed the diminutive principality in its folds. Its capital, Avignon,
having forfeited the distinction enjoyed in the fourteenth century as the
residence of the Roman Pontiffs, still boasted the presence of a Legate of
the Papal See, a poor compensation for the loss of its past splendor. On the
shores of the Mediterranean Sea, the Spanish dominions still extended north
of the principal chain of the Pyrenees, and included the former County of
Roussillon.
But, although its area was somewhat smaller than that of
the modern republic, France in the sixteenth century had Territorial
nearly attained the general dimensions marked out for it development.
by great natural boundaries. Four hundred years had been engrossed in the
pursuit of territorial enlargement. At the close of the tenth century the

Carlovingian dynasty, essentially foreign in tastes and language, was
supplanted by a dynasty of native character and capable of gathering to its
support all those elements of strength which had been misunderstood or
neglected by the feeble descendants of Charlemagne. But it found the royal
authority reduced to insignificance and treated with open contempt. By
permitting those dignities which had once been conferred as a reward for
pre-eminent personal merit to become hereditary in certain families, the
crown had laid the foundation of the feudal system; while, by neglecting to
enforce its sovereign claims, it had enabled the great feudatories to make
themselves princes independent in reality, if not in name. So low had the
consideration of the throne fallen, that when Hugh Capet, Count of Paris, in
987 assumed the title of king of France, basing his act partly on an election
by nobles, partly on force of arms, the transaction elicited little opposition
from the rival lords who might have been expected to resent his usurpation.
France contained at this time six principal fiefs—four in
the north and two in the south—each nearly or fully as Excessive
powerful as the hereditary dominions of Hugh, while subdivision
in the
tenth century.
probably more than one excelled them in extent. These
limited dominions, on the resources of which the new dynasty was wholly
dependent in the struggle for supremacy, embraced the important cities of
Paris and Orleans, but barely stretched from the Somme to the Loire, and
were excluded from the ocean by the broad possessions of the dukes of
Normandy on both sides of the lower Seine. The great fiefs had each in turn
yielded to the same irresistible tendency to subdivision. The great feudatory
was himself the superior of the tenants of several subordinate, yet
considerable, fiefs. The possessors of these again ranked above the
viscounts of cities and the provincial barons. A long series of gradations in
dignity ended at the simple owners of castles, with their subject peasants or
serfs. In no country of Europe had the feudal system borne a more abundant
harvest of disintegration and consequent loss of power.[3]
The reduction of the insubordinate nobles on the
patrimonial estates of the crown was the first problem Decline of the
feudal system.
engaging the attention of the early Capetian kings. When
this had at length been solved, with the assistance of the scanty forces lent
by the cities—never amounting, it is said, to more than five hundred men-
at-arms[4]—Louis the Fat, a prince of resplendent ability, early in the

twelfth century addressed himself to the task of making good the royal title
to supremacy over the neighboring provinces. Before death compelled him
to forego the prosecution of his ambitious designs, the influence of the
monarchy had been extended over eastern and central France—from
Flanders, on the north, to the volcanic mountains of Auvergne, on the south.
Meanwhile the oppressed subjects of the petty tyrants, whether within or
around his domains, had learned to look for redress to the sovereign lord
who prided himself upon his ability and readiness to succor the defenceless.
His grandson, the more illustrious Philip Augustus (1180-1223), by
marriage, inheritance, and conquest added to previous acquisitions several
extensive provinces, of which Normandy, Maine, and Poitou had been
subject to English rule, while Vermandois and Yalois had enjoyed a form of
approximate independence under collateral branches of the Capetian family.
The conquests of Louis the Fat and of Philip Augustus were consolidated by
Louis the Ninth—Saint Louis, as succeeding generations were wont to style
him—an upright monarch, who scrupled to accept new territory without
remunerating the former owners, and even alienated the affection of
provinces which he might with apparent justice have retained, by ceding
them to the English, in the vain hope of cementing a lasting peace between
the rival states.[5]
The same pursuit of territorial aggrandizement under
successive kings extended the domain of the crown, in France the foremost
kingdom of
spite of disaster and temporary losses, until in the Christendom.
sixteenth century France was second to no other country
in Europe for power and material resources. United under a single head, and
no longer disturbed by the insubordination of the turbulent nobles, lately
humbled by the craft of Louis the Eleventh, this kingdom awakened the
warm admiration of political judges so shrewd as the diplomatic envoys of
the Venetian Republic. "All these provinces," exclaimed one of these
agents, in a report made to the Doge and Senate soon after his return, "are
so well situated, so liberally provided with river-courses, harbors, and
mountain ranges, that it may with safety be asserted that this realm is not
only the most noble in Christendom, rivalling in antiquity our own most
illustrious commonwealth, but excels all other states in natural advantages
and security."[6] Another of the same distinguished school of statesmen,
taking a more deliberate survey of the country, gives utterance to the

universal estimate of his age, when averring that France is to be regarded as
the foremost kingdom of Christendom, whether viewed in respect to its
dignity and power, or the rank of the prince who governs it.[7] In proof of
the first of these claims he alleges the fact that, whereas England had once
been, and Naples was at that moment dependent upon the Church, and
Bohemia and Poland sustained similar relations to the Empire, France had
always been a sovereign state. "It is also the oldest of European kingdoms,
and the first that was converted to Christianity," remarks the same writer;
adding, with a touch of patriotic pride, the proviso, "if we except the Pope,
who is the universal head of religion, and the State of Venice, which, as it
first sprang into existence a Christian commonwealth, has always continued
such."[8]
Other diplomatists took the same view of the power and
resources of this favored country. "The kingdom of France contrasted
France," said Chancellor Bacon, in a speech against the with England.
policy of rendering open aid to Scotland, and thus becoming involved in a
war with the French, "is four times as large as the realm of England, the
men four times as many, and the revenue four times as much, and it has
better credit. France is full of expert captains and old soldiers, and besides
its own troops it may entertain as many Almains as it is able to hire."[9]
Meantime France was fast becoming more homogeneous
than it had ever been since the fall of the Roman power. Assimilation of
language and
As often as the lines of the great feudal families became manners.
extinct, or these families were induced or compelled to
renounce their pretensions, their fiefs were given in appanage to younger
branches of the royal house, or were more closely united to the domains of
the crown, and entrusted to governors of the king's appointment.[10] In
either case the actual control of affairs was placed in the hands of officers
whose highest ambition was to reproduce in the provincial capital the
growing elegance of the great city on the Seine where the royal court had
fixed its ordinary abode. The provinces, consequently, began to assimilate
more and more to Paris, and this not merely in manners, but in forms of
speech and even in pronunciation. The rude patois, since it grated upon the
cultivated ear, was banished from polite society, and, if not consigned to
oblivion, was relegated to the more ignorant and remoter districts. Learning

held its seat in Paris, and the scholars who returned to their homes after a
sojourn in its academic halls were careful to avoid creating doubts
respecting the thoroughness of their training by the use of any dialect but
that spoken in the neighborhood of the university. As the idiom of Paris
asserted its supremacy over the rest of France, a new tie was constituted,
binding together provinces diverse in origin and history.
The spirit of obedience pervading all classes of the
population contributed much to the national strength. The nobles flock to
The great nobles had lost their excessive privileges. Paris.
They no longer attempted, in the seclusion of their ancestral estates, to rival
the magnificence or defy the authority of the king. They began to prefer the
capital to the freer retreat of their castles. During the reign of Francis the
First, and still more during the reign of his immediate successors, costly
palaces for the accommodation of princely and ducal families were reared
in the neighborhood of the Louvre.[11] It was currently reported that more
than one fortune had been squandered in the hazardous experiment of
maintaining a pomp befitting the courtier. Ultimately the poorer grandees
were driven to the adoption of the wise precaution of spending only a
quarter of the year in the enticing but dangerous vicinity of the throne.[12]
The cities, also, whose extensive privileges had
constituted one of the most striking features of the The cities.
political system of mediæval Europe, had been shorn of
their exorbitant claims founded upon royal charters or prescriptive usage.
The kings of France, in particular, had favored the growth of the
municipalities, in order to secure their assistance in the reduction of
refractory vassals. Flourishing trading communities had sprung up on the
coasts of the Mediterranean Sea and of the ocean, and on the banks of the
navigable rivers emptying into them. These corporations had secured a
degree of independence proportioned, for the most part, to the weakness of
their neighbors. The policy of the crown had been, while generously
conferring privileges of great importance upon the cities lying within the
royal domain, to make still more lavish concessions in favor of the
municipalities upon or contiguous to the lands of the great feudatories.[13]
No sooner, however, did the humiliation of the landed
nobility render it superfluous to conciliate the good-will The capital.

of the proud and opulent citizens, than the readiest means were sought for
reducing them to the level of ordinary subjects. Paris especially, once
almost a republic, had of late learned submission and docility.[14] By the
change, however, the capital had lost neither wealth nor inhabitants, being
described as very rich and populous, covering a vast area, and wholly given
up to trade.[15] In the absence of an accurate census, the number of its
inhabitants was variously stated at from 300,000 souls to nearly thrice as
many; but all accounts agreed in placing Paris among the foremost cities of
the civilized world.[16]
With the military resources at his command, the king
had the means of rendering himself formidable abroad Military resources.
and secure at home. The French cavalry, consisting of
gentlemen whose duty and honorable distinction it was to follow the
monarch in every expedition, still sustained the reputation for the impetuous
ardor and the irresistible weight of its charges which it had won during the
Middle Ages. If it had encountered unexpected rebuffs on the fields of
Crécy, Poitiers and Agincourt, the chivalry of France had been too
successful in other engagements to lose courage and enthusiasm. The
nobles, both old and young, were still ready at any time to flock to their
prince's standard when unfurled for an incursion into Naples or the
Milanese. Never had they displayed more alacrity or self-sacrificing
devotion than when young Francis the First set out upon his campaigns in
Italy.[17] The French infantry was less trustworthy. The troops raised in
Normandy, Brittany, and Languedoc were reported to be but poorly trained
to military exercises; but the foot-soldiers supplied by some of the frontier
provinces were sturdy and efficient, and the gallant conduct of the Gascons
at the disastrous battle of St. Quentin was the subject of universal
admiration.[18]
What France lacked in cavalry was customarily supplied
by the Reiters, whose services were easily purchased in Foreign mercenary
troops.
Germany. The same country stood ready to furnish an
abundance of Lansquenets (Lanzknechten), or pikemen, who, together with
the Swiss, in a great measure replaced the native infantry. A Venetian envoy
reported, in 1535, that the French king could, in six weeks at longest, set on
foot a force of forty-eight thousand men, of whom twenty-one thousand, or

nearly one-half, would be foreign mercenaries. His navy, besides his great
ship of sixty guns lying in the harbor of Havre, numbered thirty galleys, and
a few other vessels of no great importance.[19]
The power gained by the crown through the
consolidation of the monarchy had been acquired at the The rights of the
people overlooked.
expense of the popular liberties. In the prolonged
struggle between the king, as lord paramount, and his
insubordinate vassals, the rights of inferior subjects had The States General
an object of
received little consideration. From the strife the former suspicion.
issued triumphant, with an asserted claim to unlimited
power. The voice of the masses was but feebly heard in the States General
—a convocation of all three orders called at irregular intervals. Upon the
ordinary policy of government, this, the only representative body, exercised
no permanent control. If, in its occasional sessions, the deputies of the Tiers
État exhibited a disposition to intermeddle in those political concerns which
the crown claimed as its exclusive prerogative, the king and his advisers
found in their audacity an additional motive for postponing as long as
possible a resort to an expedient so disagreeable as the assembling of the
States General. Already had monarchs begun to look with suspicion upon
the growing intelligence of untitled subjects, who might sooner or later
come to demand a share in the public administration.
It was, therefore, only when the succession to the throne
was contested, or when the perils attending the minority And rarely
convoked.
of the prince demanded the popular sanction of the
choice of a regent, or when the flames of civil war
seemed about to burst forth and involve the whole A long break in the
history of
country in one general conflagration, that the royal representative
consent could be obtained for convening the States government.
General. During the first half of the sixteenth century the
States General were not once summoned, unless the Compensating
designation of States be accorded to one or two advantages.
convocations partaking rather of the character of
"Assemblies of Notables," and intended merely to assist in extricating the
monarch from temporary embarrassment.[20] The repeated wars of Louis the
Twelfth, of Francis the First, and of Henry the Second were waged without
any reference of the questions of their expediency and of the mode of

conducting them to the tribunal of popular opinion. Thousands of brave
Frenchmen found bloody graves beyond the Alps; Francis the First fell into
the hands of his enemies, and after a weary captivity with difficulty
regained his freedom; a new faith arose in France, threatening to subvert
existing ecclesiastical institutions; yet in the midst of all this bloodshed,
confusion and perplexity the people were left unconsulted.[21] From the
accession of Charles the Eighth, in 1483, to that of Charles the Ninth, in
1560, the history of representative government in France is almost a
complete blank. So long was the period during which the States General
were suspended, that, when at length it was deemed advisable to convene
them again, the chancellor, in his opening address, felt compelled to enter
into explanations respecting the nature and functions of a body which
perhaps not a man living remembered to have seen in session.[22] Yet, while
the desuetude into which had fallen the laudable custom of holding the
States every year, or, at least, on occasion of any important matter for
deliberation, might properly be traced to the flood of ambition and pride
which had inundated the world, and to the inordinate covetousness of kings,
[23]
there were not wanting considerations to mitigate the disappointment of
the people. Chief among them, doubtless, in the view of shrewd observers,
was the fact that the assembling of the States was the invariable prelude to
an increase of taxation, and that never had they met without benefiting the
king's exchequer at the expense of the purses of his subjects.[24]
Meanwhile the nation bore with exemplary patience the
accumulated burdens under which it staggered. Natives The endurance of
the Tiers État.
and foreigners alike were lost in admiration of its
wonderful powers of endurance. No one suspected that a
terrible retribution for this same people's wrongs might Absolutism
crown.
of the

one day overtake the successor of a long line of kings,
each of whom had added his portion to the crushing load. The Emperor
Maximilian was accustomed to divert himself at the expense of the French
people. "The king of France," said he, "is a king of asses; there is no weight
that can be laid upon his subjects which they will not bear without a
murmur."[25] The warrior and historian Rabutin congratulated the monarchs
of France upon God's having given them, in obedience, the best and most
faithful people in the whole world.[26] The Venetian, Matteo Dandolo,
declared to the Doge and Senate that the king might with propriety regard

as his own all the money in France, for, such was the incomparable
kindness of the people, that whatever he might ask for in his need was very
gladly brought to him.[27] It was not strange, perhaps, that the ruler of
subjects so exemplary in their eagerness to replenish his treasury as soon as
it gave evidence of being exhausted, came to take about the same view of
the matter. Accordingly, it is related of Francis the First that, being asked by
his guest, Charles the Fifth, when the latter was crossing France on his way
to suppress the insurrection of Ghent, what revenue he derived from certain
cities he had passed through, the king promptly, replied: "Ce que je
veux"—"What I please."[28]
Yet it must be noted, in passing, that the studied
abasement of the Tiers État had already begun to bear Fruits of the
abasement of the
some fruit that should have alarmed every patriotic people.
heart. It was, as we have seen, impossible to obtain good
French infantry except from Gascony and some other border provinces. The
place that should have been held by natives was filled by Germans and
Swiss. What was the reason? Simply that the common people had lost the
consciousness of their manhood, in consequence of the degraded position
into which the king, and the privileged classes, imitating his example, had
forced them. "Because of their desire to rule the people with a rod of iron,"
says Dandolo, "the gentry of the kingdom have deprived them of arms.
They dare not even carry a stick, and are more submissive to their superiors
than dogs!"[29] No wonder that all efforts of Francis to imitate the armies of
free states, by instituting legions of arquebusiers, proved fruitless.[30] Add
to this that trade was held in supreme contempt,[31] and the picture is
certainly sufficiently dark.
Yet, while, through the absence of any effectual barrier
to the exercise of his good pleasure, the king's authority Checks upon the
was ultimately unrestricted, it must be confessed that king's authority.
there existed, in point of fact, some powerful checks, rendering the abuse of
the royal prerogative, for the most part, neither easy nor expedient.
Parliament, the municipal corporations, the university, and the clergy, weak
as they often proved in a direct struggle with the crown, nevertheless
exerted an influence that ought not to be overlooked. The most headstrong
prince hesitated to disregard the remonstrances of any one of these bodies,

and their united protest sometimes led to the abandonment of schemes of
great promise for the royal treasury. It is true that parliament, university,
and chartered borough owed their existence and privileges to the royal will,
and that the power that created could also destroy. But time had invested
with a species of sanctity the venerable institutions established by monarchs
long since dead, and the utmost stretch of royal displeasure went not in its
manifestation further than the mere threat to strip parliament or university
of its privileges, or, at most, the arrest and temporary imprisonment of the
more obnoxious judges or scholars.
The Parliament of Paris was the legitimate successor of
that assembly in which, in the earlier stage of the The Parliament of
Paris
national existence, the great vassals came together to
render homage to the lord paramount and aid him by their deliberations.
This feudal parliament was transformed into a judicial parliament toward
the end of the thirteenth century. With the change of functions, the chief
crown officers were admitted to seats in the court. Next, the introduction of
a written procedure, and the establishment of a more complicated
legislation, compelled the illiterate barons and the prelates to call in the
assistance of graduates of the university, acquainted with the art of writing
and skilled in law. These were appointed by the king to the office of
counsellors.[32] In 1302, parliament, hitherto migratory, following the king
in his journeys, was made stationary at Paris. Its sessions were fixed at two
in each year, held at Easter and All Saints respectively. The judicial body
was subdivided into several "chambers," according to the nature of the
cases upon which it was called to act.
From this time the Parliament of Paris assumed appellate
jurisdiction over all France, and became the supreme Becomes the
supreme court.
court of justice. But the burden of prolonged sessions,
and the necessity now imposed upon the members of residing at least four
months out of every year in the capital, proved an irksome restraint both to
prelates and to noblemen. Their attendance, therefore, began now to be less
constant. As early as in 1320 the bishops and other ecclesiastical officers
were excused, on the ground that their duty to their dioceses and sacred
functions demanded their presence elsewhere. From the general exemption
the Bishop of Paris and the Abbot of St. Denis alone were excluded, on
account of their proximity to the seat of the court. About the beginning of

the fifteenth century, the members, taking advantage of the weak reign of
Charles the Sixth, made good their claim to a life-tenure in their offices.[33]
The rapid increase of cases claiming the attention of the
Parliament of Paris suggested the erection of similar Provincial
parliaments.
tribunals in the chief cities of the provinces added to the
original estates of the crown. Before the accession of Francis the First a
provincial parliament had been instituted at Toulouse, with jurisdiction over
the extensive domain once subject to the illustrious counts of that city; a
second, at Grenoble, for Dauphiny; a third, at Bordeaux, for the province of
Guyenne recovered from the English; a fourth, at Dijon, for the newly
acquired Duchy of Burgundy; a fifth, at Rouen, to take the place of the
inferior "exchequer" which had long had its seat there; and a sixth, at Aix-
en-Provence, for the southeast of France.[34]
To their judicial functions, the Parliament of Paris, and
to a minor degree the provincial parliaments, had Claim to the right
of remonstrance.
insensibly added other functions purely political. In
order to secure publicity for their edicts, and equally with the view of
establishing the authenticity of documents purporting to emanate from the
crown, the kings of France had early desired the insertion of all important
decrees in the parliamentary records. The registry was made on each
occasion by express order of the judges, but with no idea on their part that
this form was essential to the validity of a royal ordinance. Presently,
however, the novel theory was advanced that parliament had the right of
refusing to record an obnoxious law, and that, without the formal
recognition of parliament, no edict could be allowed to affect the decisions
of the supreme or of any inferior tribunal.
In the exercise or this assumed prerogative, the judges
undertook to send a remonstrance to the king, setting Indulgence of the
crown.
forth the pernicious consequences that might be
expected to flow from the proposed measure if put into
execution. However unfounded in history, the claim of The Chancellor's
oath.
the Parliament of Paris appears to have been viewed
with indulgence by monarchs most of whom were not indisposed to defer to
the legal knowledge of the counsellors, nor unwilling to enhance the
consideration of the venerable and ancient body to which the latter

belonged. In all cases, however, the final responsibility devolved upon the
sovereign. Whenever the arguments and advice of parliament failed to
convince him, the king proceeded in person to the audience-chamber of the
refractory court, and there, holding a lit-de-justice, insisted upon the
immediate registration, or else sent his express command by one of his most
trusty servants. The judges, in either case, were forced to succumb—often,
it must be admitted, with a very bad grace—and admit the law to their
records. We shall soon have occasion to note one of the most striking
instances of this unequal contest between king and parliament, in which
power rather than right or learning won the day. In spite, however, of
occasional checks, parliament manfully and successfully maintained its
right to throw obstacles in the way of hasty or inconsiderate legislation. In
this it was often efficiently assisted by the Chancellor of France, the highest
judicial officer of the crown, to whom, on his assuming office, an oath was
administered containing a very explicit promise to exercise the right of
remonstrance with the king before affixing the great seal of state to any
unjust or unreasonable royal ordinance.[35]
Not that either the Parliament of Paris or the provincial
parliaments were free of grave defects deserving the Abuses in the
administration of
severe animadversion of impartial observers. It was justice.
probably no worse with the Parliament of Bordeaux than
with its sister courts;[36] yet, when Charles the Ninth visited that city in
1564, honest Chancellor L'Hospital seized the opportunity to tell the judges
some of their failings. The royal ordinances were not observed.
Parliamentary decisions ranked above commands of the king. There were
divisions and violence. In the civil war some judges had made themselves
captains. Many of them were avaricious, timid, lazy and inattentive to their
duties. Their behavior and their dress were "dissolute." They had become
negligent in judging, and had thrown the burden of prosecuting offences
upon the shoulders of the king's attorney, originally appointed merely to
look after the royal domain. They had become the servants of the nobility
for hire. There was not a lord within the jurisdiction of the Parliament of
Bordeaux but had his own chancellor in the court to look after his interests.
[37]
It was sufficiently characteristic that the same judicial body of which
such things were said to its face (and which neither denied their truth nor
grew indignant), should have been so solicitous for its dignity as to send the

monarch, upon his approach to the city, an earnest petition that its members
should not be constrained to kneel when his Majesty entered their court-
room! To which the latter dryly responded, "their genuflexion would not
make him any less a king than he already was."[38]
Among the forces that tended to limit the arbitrary
exercise of the royal authority, the influence of the The University of
Paris.
University of Paris is entitled to a prominent place.
Nothing had added more lustre to the rising glory of the capital than the
possession of the magnificent institution of learning, the foundation of
which was lost in the mist of remote antiquity. Older than the race of kings
who had for centuries held the French sceptre, the university owed its
origin, if we are to believe the testimony of its own annals, to the
munificent hand of Charlemagne, in the beginning of the ninth century.
Careful historical criticism must hesitate to accept as conclusive the slender
proof offered in support of the story.[39] It is, perhaps, safer to regard one of
the simple schools instituted at an early period in connection with
cathedrals and monasteries as having contained the humble germ from
which the proud university was slowly developed. But, by the side of this
original foundation there had doubtless grown up the schools of private
instructors, and these had acquired a certain prominence before the
confluence of scholars to Paris from all quarters rendered necessary an
attempt to introduce order into the complicated system, by the formation of
that union of all the teachers and scholars to which the name of universitas
was ultimately given.
If the origin of the University of Paris, like that of the greater number of
human institutions, was insignificant when viewed in the light of its
subsequent growth, the meagreness of the early course of instruction was
almost incredible to those who, in an age of richer mental acquisitions,
listened to the prelections of its numerous and learned doctors. The Trivium
and the Quadrivium constituted the whole cycle of human knowledge.
Grammar, logic, and rhetoric were embraced in the one; music, arithmetic,
geometry, and astronomy in the other. He was indeed a prodigy of erudition
whose comprehensive intellect had mastered the details of these, the seven
liberal arts, or, to use a familiar line of the period,
Qui tria, qui septem, qui omne scibile novit.

But the ignorant pedagogues of the eleventh century gave place, in the early
part of the twelfth, to instructors of real merit—to Peter Abelard, among
others, and to his pupil Peter Lombard, the fame of whose lectures attracted
to Paris great crowds of youth eager to become proficient in philosophy and
Hitherto there had been but one faculty—the Faculty of
Arts; but among the students a distribution into four The four nations.
"nations" had been effected. The Nation of France
embraced the students coming from the royal dominions, which then
comprised a limited territory, with Paris as its capital, together with the
students of Italy, Spain, and the east. The Nation of Picardy consisted of
students from the province of that name and from the neighboring County
of Flanders. The Nation of Normandy received youths belonging to the rich
provinces of Normandy and Brittany, and to the west. The Nation of
England gathered those who came from the British Isles, as well as from
the extensive territories in southwestern France long held by the kings of
England. After the reconquest of Guyenne, however, the German students
became the controlling element in the fourth nation, and the designation
was changed to the Nation of Germany. The Rector of the university and the
four Procurators of the nations were entrusted with the administration of
the general interests of the vast scholastic community.
With the rise of new branches of science to contest the
supremacy of the old, the institution of other faculties The faculties.
was called for. The demand was not conceded without a
determined struggle of so serious a character as to Chancellor and
require the intervention of two popes for its settlement. rector.
Nevertheless, before the end of the thirteenth century, the three new
faculties of theology, medicine, and law had assumed their places by the
side of the four original nations. The faculties were represented in the
rector's council by three Deans, invested with power equal to that enjoyed
by the procurators of the nations. While the rector, always chosen from the
faculty of arts, was the real head of this republic of letters in all that
concerned its inner life and management, the honorable privilege of
conferring the degrees that gave the right to teach belonged to the
chancellor of the university.[40] The former, elected every three months,
began and ended his office with solemn processions, the first to invoke the
blessing of heaven upon his labors, the second to render thanks for their

successful termination. The chancellor, holding office for life, was an
ecclesiastic of the church of Paris, originally the bishop or some one
appointed by him, who, if he enjoyed less direct control over the scholars in
their studies, was yet the chief censor of their morals,[41] and the
representative of the university in its dealings with foreign bodies, and
especially with the Roman See.[42]
No other mediæval seat of learning attained so enviable
a reputation as Paris for completeness of theological The Sorbonne.
training. From all parts of Christendom students resorted
to it as to the most abundant and the purest fountain of sound learning. In
1250, Robert de Sorbonne, the private confessor of Louis the Ninth,
emulating the munificence of previous patrons of letters, founded a college
intended to facilitate the education of secular students of theology. The
college took the name of its author, and, becoming famous for the ability of
its instructors, the Sorbonne soon engrossed within its walls almost the
entire course of theological teaching given in the University of Paris.
Although the students in the colleges of Navarre and Plessis devoted
themselves to the acquisition of the same science, they had little public
instruction save that for which they resorted to the Sorbonne. By reason of
the prominence thus gained as the seat of the principal instruction in
theology, the Sorbonne became synonymous with the theological faculty
itself.[43]
A body of theologians of admitted eminence necessarily
spoke with authority. In France the decisions of the Its great authority.
Sorbonne were accepted as final upon almost all
questions affecting the doctrine and practice of the Church. Abroad its
opinions were esteemed of little less weight than the deliberate judgments
of synods. Difficulties in church and state were referred to it for solution. In
the age of the reformation the Sorbonne was invited to pronounce upon the
truth or falsity of the propositions maintained by Martin Luther, and, a few
years later, upon the validity of the grounds of the divorce sought by Henry
the Eighth of England. But, unhappily, the reputation of the faculty was
tarnished by scholastic bigotry. Slavish attachment to the past had destroyed
freedom of thought. With a species of inconsistency not altogether without
a parallel in history, the very body which had been active in the promotion

of science during the Middle Ages assumed the posture of resistance the
moment that the advocates of substantial reform urged the necessity of
immediate action. Abuses which had provoked the indignation of Gerson,
once Chancellor of the University of Paris, and employed the skilful pen of
the bold Rector Nicholas de Clemangis, met with no word of condemnation
from the new generation of theologians.
Such was the Sorbonne of the beginning of the sixteenth century, when
intriguing doctors, such as Beda and Quercu, ruled in its deliberations. An
enemy of liberal studies as well as of the "new doctrines," the faculty of
theology was as ready to attack Erasmus for his devotion to ancient
literature, or Jacques Lefèvre for establishing the existence of the "three
Marys," as to denounce the Bishop of Meaux for favoring "Lutheran"
preachers in his diocese. Against all innovators in church or state, the
sentiments of the Sorbonne, which it took no pains to conceal, were that
"their impious and shameless arrogance must be restrained by chains, by
censures—nay, by fire and flame—rather than vanquished by argument!"
[44]

Meanwhile, in the external marks of prosperity the
University of Paris was still in its prime at the period of Number of students.
which I speak. The colleges, clustered together in the
southern quarter of the city—the present Quartier Latin—were so
numerous and populous that this portion continued for many years after to
be distinguished as l' Université.[45] The number of students, it is true, had
visibly diminished since one hundred years before. The crowd of youth in
attendance was no longer so great as in 1409, when, according to a
contemporary, the head of a scholastic procession to the Church of Saint
Denis had already reached the sacred shrine before the rector had left the
Church of the Mathurins in the Rue Saint Jacques, a point full six miles
distant.[46] Yet the report of Giustiniano, in 1535, stated it as the current
belief that the university still had twenty-five thousand students in
attendance, although this seemed to be an exaggerated estimate. "For the
most part," he added, "they are young, for everybody, however poor he may
be, learns to read and write."[47] Another ambassador, writing eleven years
later, represents the students, now numbering sixteen or twenty thousand, as
extremely poor. Their instructors, he tells us, received very modest salaries;

yet, so great was the honor attaching to the post of teacher within the
university walls, that the competition for professorial chairs was
marvellously active.[48]
The influence of the clergy fell little short of that of the university in
moderating the arbitrary impulses of the monarch.
The Gallican Church had for many centuries been
distinguished for a manly defence of its liberties against The Gallican
liberties.
the encroachments of the Papal court. Tenacious of the
maintenance of doctrinal unity with the See of Rome, the French prelates
early met the growing assumption of the Popes with determined courage. At
the suggestion of the clergy, and with their full concurrence, more than one
French king adopted stringent regulations intended to protect the kingdom
from becoming the prey of foreigners. Church and State were equally
interested in the successful prosecution of a warfare carried on, so far as the
French were concerned, in a strictly defensive manner. The Papal treasury,
under guise of annats, laid claim to the entire income of the bishopric or
other benefice for the first year after each new appointment. It seized upon
the revenues of vacant ecclesiastical offices, which the king specially
affected. Every bull or brief needed to secure induction into office—and the
number of these articles was almost unlimited—was procured at a heavy
expense. Further sums were exacted for pronouncing a dispensation in favor
of those appointees whom youth or some other canonical impediment
incapacitated for the acceptance and discharge of the requisite functions.
The main objects of both crown and clergy were,
consequently, to secure the kingdom from the disastrous Objects of the
Gallican party.
results of the interference of Italians in the domestic
affairs of France; to preserve the treasure of the realm from exhaustion
resulting from the levy of arbitrary imposts fixed by irresponsible aliens,
and exacted through the terrors of ecclesiastical penalties; to prevent the
right of election to lucrative livings from falling into the hands of those who
would use the privilege only as a means of acquiring riches; and to rescue
clergymen themselves from being hurried away for trial beyond the
confines of their native land, and possibly from suffering hopeless
confinement in Roman dungeons. In a word, it was the aim of the Gallican
party to prove that "the government of the church is not a despotism."[49]

It is a somewhat anomalous circumstance that the first
decided step in repressing the arrogant claims of the Pragmatic Sanction
Papal See was taken by a monarch whose singular of St. Louis.
merits have been deemed worthy of canonization by the Roman Church.
Louis the Ninth had witnessed with alarm the rapid strides of the Papacy
toward universal dominion. His pride was offended by the pretension of the
Pontiff to absolute superiority; his sovereign rights were assailed when
taxes were levied in France at the pleasure of a foreign priest and prince. He
foresaw that this abuse was likely to take deep root unless promptly met by
a formal declaration placing the rights of the French monarch and nation in
their true light. For this reason he issued in 1268 a solemn edict, which, as
emanating from the unconstrained will of the king, took the name of the
"Pragmatic Sanction of Saint Louis."
The preamble of this famous ordinance, upon the authenticity of which
doubts have been unnecessarily cast,[50] declares the object of the king to be
to secure the safety and tranquillity of the church of his realm, the
advancement of divine worship, the salvation of the souls of Christ's
faithful people, and the attainment of the favor and help of Almighty God.
To his sole jurisdiction and protection had France ever been subject, and so
did Louis desire it to remain. The provisions of the Pragmatic Sanction
were directed chiefly to guarding the freedom of election and of collation to
benefices, and to prohibiting the imposition of any form of taxes by the
Pope upon ecclesiastical property in France, save by previous consent of the
prince and clergy.[51]
In this brief document had been laid the foundation of the liberties of the
Gallican Church, not under the form of novel legislation, but of a summary
of previous usage.
Political reasons, not long after the death of Louis, gave
new vigor to the policy of opposition to which this king Philip the Fair and
had pledged France. His grandson, the resolute Philip Boniface.
the Fair, found fresh incitement in the extravagant conduct of a
contemporary Pope, Boniface the Eighth. The bold ideas advanced by
Hildebrand in the eleventh, and carried into execution by Innocent the Third
in the thirteenth century, were wrought into the very texture of the soul of
Boniface, and could not be concealed, in spite of the altered condition of

mediæval society. Intolerant, headstrong, and despotic, he undertook to
exercise a theocratic rule, and commanded contending monarchs to lay
down their arms, and submit their disputes to his arbitrament. To such a
summons Philip was not inclined to submit. The crafty and unscrupulous
prince, whose contempt for divine law was evidenced by his shameless
practice of injustice, whose coffers were filled indifferently by the
confiscation of the rich spoils of the commanderies of the Templars, and by
recklessly debasing the national currency, did not hesitate to engage in a
contest with the most presumptuous of Popes. He appealed to the States
General, and all three orders indignantly repudiated the suggestion that their
country had ever stood to the Papacy in the relation of a fief. The disastrous
example of the English John Lackland had found no imitator on the
southern side of the channel. The Pope was declared a heretic. Emissaries of
Louis seized him in his native city of Anagni, within the very bounds of the
"Patrimony of St. Peter," and the rough usage to which he was then
subjected hastened his death. His successors on the pontifical throne proved
somewhat more tractable.
During his short and unimportant pontificate, Benedict
the Eleventh restored to the chapters of cathedrals the The Popes at
Avignon.
right of electing their own bishops. Upon his death,
Philip secured the elevation to the pontifical dignity of an ecclesiastic
wholly devoted to French interests, the facile Clement the Fifth, who, in
return for the honor conferred upon him, removed the seat of the Papacy to
Avignon. Here for the seventy years of the so-called "Babylonish
Captivity," the Popes continued to reside, too completely subject to the
influence of the French monarchs to dream of resuming their tone of
defiance, but scarcely less exacting than before of homage from other
rulers. In fact, the burden of the pecuniary exactions of the Popes rather
grew than diminished with the change from Rome to Avignon, and with the
institution of rival claimants to the tiara, each requiring an equal sum to
support the pomp of his court, but recognized as legitimate by only a
portion of Christendom. The devices for drawing tribute from all quarters
were multiplied to an almost insupportable extent. So effectual did they
prove, that no pontiff, perhaps, ever left at his death a more enormous
accumulation of treasure than one of the Popes of Avignon, John the

Twenty-second. Much of this wealth was derived from the rich provinces of
France.
Close upon the "Captivity" followed the "Schism,"
during which the generally acknowledged Popes, who The Schism.
had returned to Rome, were opposed by pretenders at
Avignon and elsewhere. A double incentive was now given to the monarchs
of Europe for setting bounds to the ambition of the Papacy. For while the
Popes, through the loss of a great part of their authority and prestige, had
become less formidable antagonists, their financial extortions had waxed so
intolerable as to suggest the strongest arguments appealing to the self-
interest of kings. Hence the frequency with which the demand for "a
reformation in the head and the members" resounded from all parts of the
Western Church. And hence, too, those memorable councils of Pisa,
Constance, and Basle, which, coming in rapid succession at the
commencement of the fifteenth century, bade fair to prove the forerunners
of a radical reformation. It does not belong here to discuss the causes of
their failure to answer this reasonable expectation. Yet with one of these
assemblages is closely connected a very important incident in the history of
the Gallican Church.
The Council of Basle had not yet concluded its
protracted sessions when Charles the Seventh The Council of
Bourges.
summoned the clergy of France to meet him in the city
of Bourges. The times were troublous. The kingdom was rent with intestine
division. A war was still raging, during the progress of which the victorious
arms of the English had driven the king from his capital and deprived him
of more than one-half of his dominions. The work of reinstating the royal
authority, though well begun by the wonderful interposition of the Maid of
Orleans, was as yet by no means complete. Undaunted, however, by the
unsettled aspect of his affairs, Charles—the "King of Bourges," as he was
contemptuously styled by his opponents—made his appearance in the
national council convened in his temporary capital. He was attended by the
dauphin, the Dukes of Burgundy and Brittany, the Count of Maine, and
many other noblemen, as well as by a goodly train of doctors of civil and
canon law. Awaiting his arrival were five archbishops, twenty-five bishops,
and a host of abbots and deputies of universities and chapters of cathedrals.
In the presence of this august convocation, in which all that was most

prominent in church and state was represented, Charles published, on the
seventh of July, 1438, an ordinance which has become celebrated under the
name of the "Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges"—by far the more important
of the two documents of similar nature emanating from the French throne.
[52]

The Pragmatic Sanction, as it is often called by way of
pre-eminence, is the magna charta of the liberties of the The Pragmatic
Sanction of
Gallican Church. Founded upon the results of the Bourges.
discussions of the Council of Basle, it probably
embodies all the reformatory measures which the hierarchy of France was
desirous of effecting or willing to accept. How far these were from
administering the needed antidote to the poison which was at work and
threatened to destroy all true religious life—if, indeed, that life was not
already too near extinction—may readily be understood when it is
discovered that, with the exception of a few paragraphs relating to
ecclesiastical discipline and worship, the following comprise all the
important provisions:
The Pragmatic Sanction establishes the obligation of the Pope to convene a
general council of the church at least every ten years. The decisions of the
Council of Basle are declared to be of perpetual force. Far from deriving its
authority from the Holy See, the Œcumenical Council, it is affirmed,
depends immediately upon Christ, and the Pope is no less bound than all
other Christians to render due obedience to its decisions. The right of appeal
from the Pope to the future council—a claim obnoxious in the last degree to
the advocates of papal supremacy—is distinctly asserted. The Pope is
declared incapable of appointing to any high ecclesiastical dignities, save in
a few specified cases; in all others recourse is to be had to election. The
pontiff's pretensions to confer minor benefices are equally rejected. No
abuse is more sharply rebuked and forbidden than that of expectatives—a
species of appointment in high favor with the papal chancery, whereby a
successor to ecclesiastical dignities was nominated during the lifetime of
the incumbent, and in view of his decease.
The Pragmatic Sanction restricts the troublesome and costly appeals to
Rome to cases of great importance, when the parties in interest reside at a
distance of more than four days' journey from that city. At the same time it

prescribes that no one shall be vexed by such appeals after having enjoyed
actual possession of his rank for three years. Going beyond the limits of the
kingdom, it enters into the constitution of the "Sacred College," and fixes
the number of the cardinals at twenty-four, while placing the minimum age
of candidates for the hat at thirty years. The exaction of the annats is
stigmatized as simony. Priests living in concubinage are to be punished by
the forfeiture of one-fourth of their annual stipend. Finally the principle is
sanctioned that no interdict can be made to include in its operation the
innocent with the guilty.[53]
So thorough a vindication of the rights of the Gallican Church had never
before been undertaken. The axe was laid at the root of formidable abuses;
freedom of election was restored; the kingdom was relieved of a crushing
burden of tribute; foreigners were precluded from interfering with the
systematic administration of the laws. The clergy, both regular and secular,
received the greatest benefits, for, while they could no longer be plundered
of so large a part of their incomes, their persons were protected from
arbitrary arrest and hopeless exile beyond the Alps.
The council had not adjourned when the tidings of the transactions at
Bourges reached the city of Basle. The members were overjoyed, and
testified their approval in a grateful letter to the Archbishop of Lyons. But
their exultation was more than equalled by the disgust of Pope Eugenius the
Third. Indeed, the pontificates of this pope and his immediate successors
were filled with fruitless attempts to effect the repeal of the Pragmatic
Sanction. A threat was made to place France under an interdict; but this was
of no avail, being answered by the counter-threat of the king's
representative, who proposed to make a practical application of the
instrument, by appealing from his Holiness to a future general council. So
the Pope, having a vivid recollection of the perils attending a contest with
the French crown, wisely avoided the hazardous venture.[54]
In Louis the Eleventh the papal court seemed to have
found a more promising prince to deal with. Animated Louis XI. consents
to its abrogation.
by hatred of his father, and disposed to oppose whatever
had met his father's approval, Louis had, while yet dauphin, given the
Pope's agents flattering assurances of his good intentions.[55] On ascending
the throne, he permitted his father's memory to be treated with disrespect,

by suffering a nuncio to pronounce absolution over the corpse for the
heinous sin of originating the Pragmatic Sanction. Later, on receiving the
assurance of the Pope's support for the house of Anjou in Naples, he
consented to repeal the hateful ordinance. A royal declaration for this
purpose was published in 1461, contrary to the advice of the king's council.
[56]
It met with universal reprobation. The Parliament of Toulouse would
register the document only with an accompanying note stating that this had
been done "by the most express command of the king." The Parliament of
Paris absolutely declined to admit it in its records, and sent a deputation to
Louis to set forth the pernicious results that were to be expected from the
overthrow of his father's wise regulations.[57] The University made bold to
appeal to a general council of the Church.
Meanwhile it happened that Louis made the unwelcome
discovery that his Italian friends had deceived him, and But subsequently
re-enacts it.
that the prospect was very remote of obtaining the
advantages by which he had been allured. It was not very difficult,
therefore, to persuade him to renounce his project. Not content with this,
three years after his formal revocation of the entire Pragmatic Sanction, he
even re-enacted some of the clauses of the document respecting
"expectatives" and "provisions."
But a few years later, in 1467, Louis again conceived it
to be for his interest to abrogate the Pragmatic Sanction. Parliament protests
against the repeal.
At the suggestion of Cardinal Balue, the recent
enactment against "expectatives" was repealed. The Parliament of Paris,
however, refused to record the letters patent. Among other powerful
arguments adduced was the fact that a recent investigation had proved that,
in the three years of the pontificate of Pius the Second during which the
Pragmatic Sanction had been virtually set aside (1461-1464), Rome drew
from the kingdom not less than 240,000 crowns in payment of bulls for
archbishoprics, bishoprics, and abbeys falling vacant within this term;
100,000 for priories and deaneries; and the enormous sum of 2,500,000
crowns for "expectatives" and "dispensations."[58] This startling financial
exhibit was accompanied by statements of the indirect injury received by
the community from the great number of candidates thrown on the tender
mercies of relations and friends, whom they thus beggared while awaiting a

long deferred preferment.[59] Even when successful, "they received only
lead for gold." Frequently, when they were about to clutch the coveted
prize, a rival stepped in armed with documents annulling those previously
given. Cases had, indeed, been known in which ten or twelve contestants
presented themselves, all basing their claims upon the pontifical warrant.[60]
Cardinal Balue was not slow in finding means to remove
from office the intrepid Procureur-général, who had Fall of Cardinal
Balue.
been prominent in urging parliament to resist the
measure of repeal. But Saint-Romain's bold stand had confirmed both
parliament and university, and neither body would acquiesce in the papal
demands. Louis, however, was reconciled to a second abandonment of the
scheme by the opportune discovery of the cardinal's treachery. The unhappy
prelate met with deserved retribution, for his purple did not save him from
enduring his own favorite mode of punishment, and being shut up in a great
iron cage. The new Perillus was thus enabled—to the intense satisfaction of
many whom he had wronged—to test in his own person the merits of a
contrivance which he was reputed himself to have invented.[61]
A concordat subsequently agreed upon by Louis and the Pope fared no
better than the previous compacts. Parliament and university were resolute,
and the king, having no further advantage to gain by keeping his word, was
as careless in its fulfilment as was his wont. The Pragmatic Sanction was
still observed as the law of the land. The highest civil courts, ignoring the
alleged repeal, conformed their decisions to its letter and spirit, while the
theologians of the Sorbonne taught it as the foundation of the ecclesiastical
constitution of France. Yet, public confidence in its validity having been
shaken, it was desirable to set all doubts at rest by a formal re-enactment.
This was proposed by the Dean of St. Martin of Tours, in the States General
held during the minority of Charles the Eighth; but, notwithstanding the
well-known opinion of all the orders, this reign passed without the adoption
of any decided action.
It was reserved for Louis the Twelfth to take the desired
step. In 1499 he published the Pragmatic Sanction anew, Action of Louis
XII.
and ordered the exclusion from office of all that had
obtained benefices from Rome. In vain did the Pope
His motto.
rave. In vain did he summon all upholders of the

ordinance to appear before the Fifth Lateran Council. The sturdy prince—
the "Father of his people"—who had chosen for his motto the device,
"Perdam Babylonis nomen," made little account of the menaces of Julius
the Second, whom death overtook, it is said, while about to fulminate a bull
transferring the title of "Very Christian King" from Louis the Twelfth of
France to Henry the Eighth of England.[62]
Thirsting for military distinction, Francis the First had
no sooner obtained the throne than he entered upon the Concordat of Leo
X. and Francis I.
career of arms in northern Italy, and the signal victory of
Marignano, won less than ten months after his accession (September 13,
1515), closed his first campaign. This success was productive of more
lasting results than merely the temporary possession of the Milanese. It led
to a reconciliation with the Pope, and to a stately interview in the city of
Bologna. All that was magnificent and captivating to the senses had been
studied to dazzle the eyes of a young and imaginative prince; for Leo the
Tenth, patron of the arts and of artists, was an adept in scenic effects.
Certainly never did pomp and ceremony more easily effect the object for
which they were employed. The interview of Bologna paved the way for a
concordat, in which the rights of the Gallican Church were sacrificed, and
the spoils divided between king and pontiff.[63] Three cardinals took part in
the elaboration of the details of the instrument—two on the pontifical, the
third on the royal side. The last was the notorious Cardinal Duprat, elevated
by Francis to the office of chancellor—a minister of religion who was soon
to introduce venality into every department of government. The source of
the concordat determined tolerably well its character.
Appreciating the strength of the opposition its pretensions had always
encountered in France, the papal court had resolved to renounce a portion of
its claims in favor of the king, in order to retain the rest more securely.
Under the pretext that the right of election vested in the chapters had been
abused, partly by the choice of illiterate and improper men, partly through
the practice of simony, the selection of archbishops and bishops was taken
from them and confided to the king. He was empowered to choose a doctor
or licentiate of theology or law, not less than twenty-seven years of age,
within six months after the see became vacant. The name of the candidate
was to be submitted to the Pope for approval, and, if this first nomination
was rejected, a second was to be made by the king. Similar regulations were

made respecting abbeys and monastic institutions in general, a few
exceptions being allowed in favor of those patrons and bodies to whom
special privileges had been accorded. The issue of "expectatives" was
prohibited; but, as no mention was made of the "annats," it followed, of
course, that this rich source of gain to the papal treasury was to lie open, in
spite of the provisions of the Pragmatic Sanction to the contrary.[64]
Such were some of the leading features of the concordat between Leo the
Tenth and Francis the First—a document introducing changes so violent as
to amount almost to a complete revolution in the ecclesiastical constitution
of the land.
After receiving the unqualified approval of the Lateran
Council, in a session at which few prelates were present Dissatisfaction of
the French.
from outside of Italy, the concordat, engrossed on white
damask, and accompanied by a revocation of the Pragmatic Sanction on
cloth of gold, was forwarded to Francis, who had now returned to his
kingdom. The latter, not ignorant of the discontent already engendered by
the mere rumor of the transaction, first submitted the concordat alone to a
mixed assembly composed of prelates and canons, of presidents and
counsellors of parliament, doctors of the university, and other prominent
personages. But the king's caution failed of accomplishing what had been
intended. The general dissatisfaction found expression in the speech of
Cardinal Boissy, demanding that the clergy be consulted by itself on a
matter so vitally affecting its interests, and suggesting the necessity of a
national council for that purpose. Francis angrily retorted that the clergy
must obey, or he would send its bishops to Rome to discuss with the Pope.
Failing in the attempt to forestall the expression of
disapprobation of the judiciary by securing the favorable Struggle with the
parliaments.
verdict of a picked assembly of influential persons, the
king, nevertheless, proceeded to carry into execution that clause of the
concordat which enjoined ratification by the parliaments. Letters patent
were first dispatched commanding all judges to conform to its provisions,
and these were followed shortly by copies of the instrument itself and of the
revocation of the Pragmatic Sanction, for registry. At this point properly
began one of the most notable contests between the crown and parliaments
of France. The Parliament of Paris, taking the ground that so fundamental a

change in the national customs demanded mature consideration, deferred
action. With the view of exercising a pressure on its deliberations, Francis
now commissioned his uncle, the Bastard of Savoy, to be present at the
sessions. Against this unprecedented breach of privilege parliament sent a
deputation humbly to remonstrate; but all to no purpose. The irritated
prince, who entertained the most extravagant views of the royal prerogative,
declared his intention to satisfy himself concerning the real disposition of
his judges, and assured the deputies that he had firmly resolved to despatch
the disobedient to the inferior parliaments of Bordeaux and Toulouse, and
fill their places with "men of worth." "I am your king," was his constant
exclamation, and this passed with him for an unanswerable argument in
support of his views. But the members of parliament were not easily
moved. Undoubtedly the success attending their previous resistance to the
repeal of the Pragmatic Sanction, on at least three occasions in the reign of
Louis the Eleventh, emboldened them in the present instance. Unawed by
the presence of the Bastard of Savoy, they refused to concede the
registration of the concordat, and declared that they must continue to
observe the Pragmatic Sanction, endorsed, as that ordinance had been, by
the representatives of the entire nation. Not only did they protest against
suffering the Sanction to be annulled, but they insisted upon the
convocation of the clergy in a body similar to that assembled by Charles the
Seventh, as an indispensable preliminary to the investigation of the matter.
Francis, who happened to be at his castle of Amboise, on
the Loire, now sent word that parliament should appoint Haughty demeanor
of the king.
a deputation to convey to him the reasons of its refusal.
But when the delegates reached the castle-gate, an entire month elapsed
before Francis would condescend to grant them audience. They were at
length admitted, only to be treated with studied contempt. "There can be but
one king in France," was the arrogant language of the young prince to the
judges who had grown gray in the service of Charles the Eighth and the
good King Louis. "You speak as if you were not my subjects, and as if I
dared not try you and sentence you to lose your heads." And when the
indignity of his words awakened the spirited remonstrance of the deputies,
Francis rejoined: "I am king: I can dispose of my parliament at my pleasure.
Begone, and return to Paris at break of day."

A formal command was now addressed to the Parliament of Paris, and the
bearer, La Trémouille, informed that body, as it listened to the message, that
Francis had repeated to him more than ten times within a quarter of an hour,
"that he would not for half his kingdom fail of his word to the Pope, and
that if parliament rebelled, he would find means to make it repent of its
obstinacy." Under these circumstances, further resistance from a body so
completely dependent on the sovereign was not to be thought of. Yet, even
when compelled to yield, parliament, at the suggestion of the gens du roi,
coupled the registry of the concordat with a declaration that it was made at
the express command of the king several times reiterated, that parliament
disapproved of the revocation of the Pragmatic Sanction; and that, in the
adjudication of causes, it would continue to follow the ordinance of Charles
the Seventh, while appealing to the Pope under better advisement, and to a
future council of the church. Thus the concordat, projected at Bologna in
1515, and signed at Rome on the sixteenth of August, 1516, was registered
by the Parliament of Paris de expressissimo mandato regis, on the twenty-
second of March, 1518.[65]
Even now Francis had not quite silenced all opposition.
The rector of the University of Paris, not content with The university
remonstrates.
entering a formal remonstrance,[66] took a bolder step.
Making use of a prerogative long since conceded to the university, of
exercising a censure over the press, he posted a notice to all printers and
publishers forbidding the reproduction of the concordat on pain of loss of
their privileges. The dean and canons of the cathedral church of Paris also
handed in a protest. The preachers of several churches rivalled the rector in
audacity, by publicly inveighing against the dangers of the ecclesiastical
innovations introduced by the king. It is not surprising that a prince
impatient even of wholesome rebuke was enraged at this monkish tirade.
Parliament was ordered to bring the culprits to justice; but, strange to say,
none could be discovered—a circumstance certainly attributable rather to
the supineness of the judges than to any lack of witnesses. To the university
Francis wrote in a haughty vein, threatening the severe punishment of any
of its doctors that dared preach against the government; while, by an edict
from Amboise, he forbade the rector and his associates from assembling for
the discussion of political questions.

These were the closing scenes of the exciting drama. The king had
triumphed, but not without encountering a spirited opposition from
parliament, university, and clergy. If these had succumbed, it had only been
before superior strength, and each of the bodies reserved to itself the right
of treating the concordat as a nullity and the Pragmatic Sanction as still the
ecclesiastical constitution of the land.
Nor was this altogether an empty claim. Some of the
provisions of the concordat were never enforced, and The resistance not
altogether fruitless.
that was a solid advantage gained through the
opposition. The parliaments persisted in rendering judgment, in such cases
as came before them, in conformity with the Pragmatic Sanction. The
Bishop of Albi, chosen by the canons, was confirmed in his see,
notwithstanding the pretensions of a nominee of the crown. And yet the
concordat was not merely maintained by the Pope and the king, but, a few
years later, its provisions were extended to monastic foundations previously
possessed of an undisputed title to elect. This was done to gratify Francis on
the marriage of his second son Henry to Catharine de' Medici, niece of
Clement, the reigning pontiff. The somewhat suspicious story is told, that,
to aid in carrying out this new act of injustice, Cardinal Duprat, having
ordered all ecclesiastical bodies to send him the original documents
attesting their right of election, at once consigned the parchments to the fire,
in order to destroy all memory of these troublesome claims. If the tale be
apocryphal, it at least indicates sufficiently well the estimation in which the
prelate's character was held by his contemporaries.
The clergy reluctantly admitted the concordat into their
books after the lapse of two centuries, but solely, as they Advantages gained
by the crown.
declared, for convenience of reference. The restoration
of the Pragmatic Sanction continued to be demanded by one or all the
orders of the States General, during the reigns of Francis the Second,
Charles the Ninth, and their successors, not least on the ground that the day
that witnessed its repeal also beheld the introduction of the "heresy" that
had since attained such formidable proportions.[67] But, if opposed and
denounced, the concordat was carried into execution, so far as most of its
provisions were concerned, until the French revolution. The advantages
gained by the crown were too palpable to be voluntarily relinquished.
Almost the entire patronage of the church was thrown into the hands of the

king, who, in the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, held at his disposal eighteen
archbishoprics, 112 bishoprics, 1,666 abbeys for men, and 317 abbeys and
priories for women.[68] It must not be forgotten that the annats, or first-
fruits of benefices, now regularly falling into the pontifical treasury, made
the concordat scarcely less valuable to the Papal See.[69]
The most enviable distinction of the reign of Francis the
First consisted in the fact that it was the era of that Era of the
extraordinary development of the fine arts and of Renaissance.
literature known as the Renaissance. Illustrious during the Middle Ages,
and foremost in the pursuit of scholastic learning, France had unfortunately
lost that proud eminence when the revival of letters enkindled elsewhere a
new passion for discovery. Her adventurous sons had taken the lead in the
crusades of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, but three hundred years later
no expeditions were fitted out in her ports to explore and appropriate the
virgin territories beyond the western sea. The art of printing and the impulse
given to astronomical research originated abroad. The famous mediæval
seat of learning seemed to have been suddenly visited with a premature
decay. Even the exiled scholars of the East, fleeing before Turkish
barbarism, disdained to settle in a country where the treasures of ancient
science which they had brought with them from Mount Athos and
Constantinople were so inadequately appreciated.[70]
The reign of Francis the First, however, was destined to
remove much of the reproach which had been incurred Francis's
attainments
by reason of this singular tardiness in entering the path overrated.
of improvement. Born of parents possessed of unusual
intelligence and yet rarer education, and stimulated by A munificent patron
the companionship of an elder sister whose extensive of art.
acquirements furnished the theme of countless
panegyrics, Francis early conceived the design of making his court
illustrious for the generous patronage extended to the disciples of the liberal
arts. His own attainments have been overrated, and posterity has too
credulously believed all that admiring and interested courtiers chose to
invent in his praise. But, if he was himself ignorant of anything beyond the
mere rudiments even of Latin, the universal language of science, he
possessed at least one signal merit: he was a munificent friend of those

whom poverty would otherwise have precluded from cultivating their
resplendent abilities. I shall not repeat the familiar names of the eminent
painters and sculptors whom he encouraged and enriched, nor give a list of
the skilful architects employed in the construction of his magnificent
palaces of St. Germain and Fontainebleau, of Chambord and Chenonceaux.
Poetry, not less than painting and architecture, witnessed his liberality.
Clément Marot, whose name has been regarded as marking the first truly
remarkable epoch in the history of this department of French art,[71] was a
favorite at the court of Francis and Margaret of Angoulême, and repaid their
gifts with unbounded eulogy. The more solid studies of the philosopher and
the linguist were fostered with equal care. Vatable, Melchior Wolmar, and
other scholars of note were invited to France, to give instruction in Greek
and Hebrew. Erasmus himself might have been induced to yield to the
king's importunate messages, could he have been able to divest himself of
the apprehension of annoyance from the bigoted "Sorbonnists;" while even
Melanchthon was, at a later period, on the point of accepting a pressing
summons to visit the French court on a mission of reconciliation.
Among the most notable achievements of this prince
was the foundation of a school of learning intended to Foundation of the
Collége Royal.
supply the deficiencies of the instruction given by the
university. In the "Collége Royal" Francis desired to leave a lasting token of
his devotion to letters. Here he founded chairs of three languages—of
Greek and Hebrew at first, and afterward of Latin—whence was derived the
name of Trilingue, under which the college was celebrated in the writings of
the day. The monarch's plan encountered the obstacles which prejudice
always knows how to set in the way of improvement. The university
doctors, fearing that their own prelections would be forsaken for the more
brilliant lectures of the salaried professors of the royal school, demanded
that the latter should submit to an examination before the more ancient
body of instructors; but parliament wisely rejected their pretensions. Liberal
men throughout the world rejoiced at the defeat of the Sorbonne and its
representative, Beda,[72] while Marot, alluding to the quarrel in a poetical
epistle to the king, poured out in verse his contempt for the "Theologasters"
of Paris:

"L'ignorante Sorbonne;

Bien ignorante elle est d'estre ennemie
De la Trilingue et noble Academie
Qu'as érigée....
O povres gens de savoir tout éthiques!
Bien faites vray ce proverbe courant:
'Science n'ha hayneux que l'ignorant!'"
It would be unfair to French scholarship to omit all notice of the fact that
there were not wanting natives of France itself whose sound learning
entitled them to rank with the most conscientious of German humanists;
such men as Lefèvre d'Étaples, a prodigy of almost universal acquirements;
or Louis de Berquin, who furnishes a signal instance of a nobleman of high
position that did not shun the toil and danger of a more than ordinarily
profound investigation of theological truth. Both will claim our attention
again.
Yet, by the side or these manifestations of a growing
appreciation of art, science, and letters, it must be An age of blood.
confessed that there were indications, no less distinct, of
a lamentable neglect of moral training, and of a state of manners scarcely
raised above that of uncivilized communities of men. It was still an age of
blood. The pages of chronicles, both public and private, teem with proofs of
the insignificant value set upon human life and happiness. In many parts of
France the peasant rarely enjoyed quiet for even a few consecutive months.
Organized bands of robbers, familiarly known as "Mauvais Garçons,"
infested whole provinces, and laid towns and villages under contribution.
Not unfrequently two or three hundred men were to be found in a single
band, and the robberies, outrages, and murders they committed defy recital.
Often the miscreants were aventuriers, or volunteers whose employers had
failed to furnish them their stipulated pay, and who avenged their losses by
exactions levied upon the unfortunate peasantry. Indeed, if we may believe
the almost incredible statements of one of the laws enacted for their
suppression, they had been known to carry by assault even walled cities,
and to exercise against the miserable inhabitants cruelty such as disgraces
the very name of man.[73]
The character or the punishments inflicted for the commission of crime
furnishes a convenient test of national civilization. If France in the sixteenth

century be tried by this criterion, the conclusion is
inevitable that for her the age of barbarism had not yet Barbarous
punishments.
completely passed away. The catalogue of crimes to
which death was affixed as the penalty is frightfully long; some of them
were almost trivial offences. A boy less than sixteen years of age was hung
for stealing jewelry from his master.[74] On the other hand, with flagrant
inconsistency, a nobleman, René de Bonneville, superintendent of the royal
mint, for the murder of his brother-in-law, was dragged to the place of
execution on a hurdle, but suffered the less ignominious fate of
decapitation. A part of his property was given to his sister, and the rest
confiscated to the crown, with the exception of four hundred livres,
reserved for the purchase of masses to be said for the benefit of the soul of
his murdered victim.[75]
For other culprits extraordinary refinements of cruelty
were reserved. The aventuriers, when so ill-starred as to Especially for
heresy.
fall into the hands of justice, were customarily burned
alive at the stake.[76] The same fate overtook those who were detected in
frauds against the public treasury. More frightful than all the rest was the
vengeance taken by the law upon the counterfeiter of the king's coin. The
legal penalty, which is said to have become a dead letter on the pages of the
statute-book long before the French revolution, was in the sixteenth century
rigidly enforced: on the 9th of November, 1527, a rich merchant of Paris,
having been found guilty of the crime in question, was boiled alive before
the assembled multitude in the Marché-aux-pourceaux.[77] Heresy and
blasphemy were treated with no greater degree of leniency than the most
infamous of crimes. Even before the reformation a lingering death in the
flames had been the doom pronounced upon the person who dared to accept
or promulgate doctrines condemned by the church. But when the bitterness
of strife had awakened the desire to enhance the punishment of dissent, new
or extraordinary tortures were resorted to, of the application of which this
history will furnish only too many examples. The forehead was branded, the
tongue torn out, the hand cut off at the wrist, or the agonies of death
prolonged by alternately dropping the wretched victim into the fire and
drawing him out again, until exhausted nature found tardy release in death.

But if we can to some extent account for the excess of cruelty which blind
frenzy inflicted on the inflexible martyr to his faith, it is certainly more
difficult to explain the severity exercised upon the more pliable, whom the
arguments of ghostly advisers, or the terrors of the Place de Grève, had
induced to recant. Generally the judge did nothing more in their behalf than
commute their punishment by ordering them to be strangled before their
bodies were consigned to the flames.[78] Yet in one exceptional case—that
of a servant whose master, a gentleman and one of the men-at-arms of the
Regent of Scotland, was burned alive—the court went to such a length of
leniency as to let the repentant heretic off with the sentence that he first be
beaten with rods at the cart's end, and afterwards have his tongue cut out.[79]
Even the clearest evidence of insanity did not suffice to remove or even
mitigate the penalties of impiety. A poor, crazy woman, who had broken the
consecrated wafer when administered to her in her illness, and had applied
to it some offensive but absurd epithet, was unhesitatingly condemned to
the stake. An appeal to a superior court procuring no reversal of her
sentence, she was burned at Tours in the year 1533.[80]
Other marks of a low stage of civilization were not
wanting. The belief in judicial astrology was almost Belief in astrology.
universal.[81] Pretenders like Nostradamus obtained
respect and wealth at the hands of their dupes. All Predictions of
Nostradamus.
France trembled with Catharine de' Medici, when the
astrologer gave out that the queen would see all her sons kings, and every
one foreboded the speedy extinction of the royal line. The "prophecy," as it
was gravely styled, obtained public recognition, and was discussed in
diplomatic papers. When two of the queen's sons had in fact become kings
of France, and a third had been elected to the throne of Poland, while the
marriage of the fourth with Queen Elizabeth was under consideration,
Catharine's allies saw grounds to congratulate her that the prediction which
had so disquieted her was likely to obtain a more pleasing fulfilment than in
the successive deaths of her male descendants.[82]
A still more pernicious form of superstition was noticeable in the credit
enjoyed by charms and incantations, not merely among illiterate rustics, but
even with persons of high social station. No phase of the magic art led to
the commission of more terrible crimes or revealed a worse side of human

character than that which pretended to secure the happiness or accomplish
the ruin, to prolong the life or hasten the death, of the objects of private love
or hatred. While systematically practising upon the credulity of his dupes,
the professed master of this ill-omened art frequently resorted to
assassination by poison or dagger in the accomplishment of his schemes.
Sorcery by means of waxen images was particularly in vogue. Thus, the
Queen of Navarre, the sister of Francis the First, in her singular collection
of tales, the "Heptameron," gives a circumstantial account of the mode in
which her own life was sought by this species of witchcraft.[83] Five
puppets had been provided: three, representing enemies (the queen being
one of the number), had their arms hanging down; the other two,
representing persons whose favor was desired, had them raised aloft. With
certain cabalistic words and occult rites the puppets were next secretly
hidden beneath an altar whereon the mass was celebrated, and the
mysterious "sacrifice" was believed to complete the efficacy of the charm.
It was no new superstition imported from abroad, but one that had existed
in France for centuries.[84]
The French were behind no other nation in reverence for
relics of saints and for pictures and images representing Reverence for
relics.
them. In the partial list, compiled by a contemporary, of
the curiosities of this nature scattered through Christendom,[85] the majority
of the relics mentioned are selected from the immense treasures laid up in
the thousands of cathedrals, parish churches, and abbeys within the domains
of the "Very Christian King." In one place the hair of the blessed Virgin was
carefully preserved; in another the sword of the archangel Michael, or the
entire body of St. Dionysius. It was true that the Pope had by solemn bull,
about a century before, declared, in the presence of the French ambassador,
that the entire body of this last-named saint was in the possession of the
inhabitants of Ratisbon; but, had any one been so rash as to affirm at Saint
Denis, near Paris, that the veritable remains were not there, he would
certainly have been stoned.[86] At Notre-Dame de l'Ile, above Lyons, no
little account was made of the twelve combs of the apostles![87]
The reflecting man who found, by a comparison of the treasures of different
churches within his own personal observation, that some of the pretended
relics were frivolous or impossible, and that the same members of some

favorite saint were reproduced at points widely distant, might well speculate
upon the probable benefits to Christendom from a complete inventory of the
contents of the churches of two or three thousand bishoprics, of twenty or
thirty thousand abbeys, and of more than forty thousand convents.[88] He
might find difficulty in believing that our Lord was crucified with fourteen
nails; that "an entire hedge" should have been requisite to plait the crown of
thorns; that a single spear should have begotten three others; or that from a
solitary napkin there should have issued a whole brood of the same kind.[89]
He would be scandalized on learning that each apostle had more than four
bodies, and the saints at least two or three apiece.[90] And his faith in the
genuineness of the objects of popular adoration would be still further
shaken, if, on subjecting them to a closer examination, he discovered that,
as was the case at Geneva, he had been worshipping a bone of a deer as the
arm of Saint Anthony, or a piece of pumice for the brain of the apostle
Peter.[91]
But, whatever sceptical conclusions might be reached by the learned and
discerning, the devotion of the common people showed no signs of
flagging. In the parish church of St. Stephen at Noyon, it was not the
Christian proto-martyr alone that was decorated with a cap and other
gewgaws, when his yearly festival came around, but likewise the "tyrants,"
as they were styled by the people, who stoned him. And the poor women,
seeing them thus adorned, took them to be companions of the saint, and
each one had his candle. The devil with whom St. Michael contended fared
equally well.[92] The very stones that were the instruments of St. Stephen's
death were adored at Arles and elsewhere.[93] It was, however, to the
Parisians that the palm in this species of superstition rightfully belonged.
The knife wherewith an impious Jew had stabbed a consecrated wafer was
held in higher esteem than the wafer itself! And so marked was the
preference that it aroused the displeasure of one of the most bigoted doctors
of the Sorbonne, De Quercu, who reproached the Parisians for being worse
than the Jews themselves, "inasmuch as they adored the knife that had
served to rend the precious body of Jesus Christ."[94]
When such superstitious respect was paid to the relics of
saints, it is not surprising that the consecrated wafer or The consecrated
wafer.
host received the most extravagant marks of adoration.

The king himself was often foremost in public demonstrations in its honor.
Louise de Savoie, mother of Francis the First, relates in her quaint diary the
pompous ceremonial observed in restoring to its original position a pyx
containing the host which had been stolen from the chapel of the palace of
St. Germain-en-Laye. The culprit had suffered the customary penalty,
having had his hand cut off and being afterward burned alive. In the
expiatory procession which took place a few days later, Francis himself
walked with uncovered head and carrying a lighted taper in his hand, from
Nanterre to St. Germain. If we may credit his mother's somewhat partial
account, the sight of the monarch's signal piety was so touching as to bring
tears to the eyes of admiring spectators.[95]
In view of the general prevalence of debasing forms of superstition among
the people, it is not inappropriate to consider the condition of that class of
the population which is wont to exert the most potent influence in forming
the moral sentiments and moulding the character of the unlettered masses.
We have already touched upon the external relations of the clergy to the
king and to the Pope; let us now look more narrowly into its internal state.
At the period of which I am now treating, the clergy,
both regular and secular, had attained unprecedented Wealth and power
of the clergy.
wealth and power. Never, perhaps, had France been
more fully represented in the "Sacred College." Assuredly never since the
residence of the Popes in Avignon had the French members possessed such
immense riches. Thirteen French cardinals sat in the papal consistory at one
time in the reign of Francis the First; twelve at the accession of his son to
the throne.[96] Their influence in the kingdom was almost beyond
conception, both on account of the multitude of benefices they held, and the
distinction of the families from whom they sprang and whose titles they
retained. Some were the incumbents of as many as ten bishoprics and
abbeys; while the cardinals of Bourbon, of Lorraine, of Châtillon, of Du
Bellay, and of Armagnac were of the best blood in the realm, and enjoyed in
their own right, or by reason of their office, very extensive jurisdiction.
A standing reproach against the prelates was their non-
residence in the dioceses committed to their pastoral Non-residence of
supervision. In fact, when the Council of Trent, by one the prelates.
of its first decrees, forbade a plurality of benefices and enjoined residence,

its action was regarded as an open declaration of war against the French
episcopate.[97] But if this abuse is deplored by Roman Catholic historians as
the fruitful cause of the introduction and rapid progress of Protestantism,[98]
the reformers, viewing their work as an instrument specially designed by
heaven for the purification of a corrupt church, might well be justified in
regarding the negligence of the bishops as a wise providential arrangement.
Many a feeble germ of truth was spared the violence of persecution until the
kindly sun and the plentiful showers had conferred greater powers of
endurance. Happily for the reformers, the duty of watching for the first
appearance of reputed heresy, which belonged properly to the bishops, was
but poorly discharged by many of the deputies to whom they entrusted it.
Nor could a delegated authority always accomplish what might have been
done by a principal.[99]
The annual revenues of the clergy of France were
estimated by a Venetian ambassador, with unsurpassed Revenues of the
clergy.
facilities for obtaining accurate information, at six
million crowns of gold, out of the fifteen millions that constituted the total
revenues of the kingdom. While the clergy thus absorbed two-fifths of the
whole income of France, the king was limited to one million and a half
crowns, or just one-tenth, derived from his particular estates.[100]
Wealth had engendered luxury and vice. Engrossed in
the pursuit of pleasure or personal aggrandizement, the Morals of the
clergy.
vast majority of clergymen had lost all solicitude for the
spiritual welfare of their flocks. About the middle of the century Claude
Haton, curate of Mériot—certainly no friend of the reformatory movement
—wrote in his Mémoires: "The more rapidly the number of heretics in
France increased, the more indifferent to the discharge of their duty in their
charges were the prelates and pastors of the church, from cardinals and
archbishops down to the most insignificant curate. They cared little or
nothing how anything went, if they could but draw the income of their
benefices at whatever place of residence they had selected with a view to
the promotion of their pleasure.[101] They let their benefices out at the
highest rate they could get, little solicitous as to the hands they might fall
into, provided only they were well paid according to the terms of the
agreement. The archbishops, bishops, and cardinals of France were almost

all at the court of the king and the princes. The abbots, priors and curates
resided in the large cities and in other places, wherein they took more
delight than within the limits of their charges and preaching the true word
of God to their subjects and parishioners. From their indifference the
Lutheran heretics took occasion to slander the Church of Jesus Christ and to
seduce Christians from it."[102]
Such a condition of utter indifference on the part of the
clergy to the interests of the souls committed to their No regard to the
spiritual wants of
charge cannot surprise us when we learn that benefices the people.
were conferred without regard to the wants of the
people. The Venetian Soranzo, in an address delivered after the fruits of the
concordat had had full time to mature,[103] declared that in the majority of
cases these ecclesiastical positions were dispensed with little respect to
things sacred, and through simple favor. They served as a convenient
method of rewarding good services. Little account was made of the
qualifications of the candidate, who might have earned his reward in the
army or in the civil service. And so it often happened that he who to-day
was a merchant or a soldier, to-morrow was made bishop or abbot. When,
indeed, the fortunate man had a wife or was reluctant to assume the habit,
he could readily get permission to place the benefice in the name of another,
himself retaining the income.[104] "These new pastors," said Correro,
"placed in charge of the churches men who had taken it into their heads to
be clergymen only to avoid the toils of some other occupation—men who,
by their avarice and dissoluteness of life, confused the innocent people and
removed their previous great devotion. This was the door, this was the
spacious gateway, by which heresies entered France. For the ministers sent
from Geneva were easily able to create in the people a hatred of the priests
and friars, by simply weighing in the balance the life led by the latter."[105]
It was the fashion among those who passed for
philosophers to ascribe the universal dissolution of The clergy before
the concordat.
morals among French ecclesiastics to the operation of
the concordat between Francis the First and Pope Leo the Tenth, which, said
they, by bringing so many bishops and other high dignitaries to the court in
quest of preferment, had corrupted the characters of the prelates, while
exposing their flocks to all the evils which neglect is wont to breed.

Unfortunately, the portraits of the period preceding the revocation of the
Pragmatic Sanction that have come down to us dispel the Arcadian
simplicity of manners which seems only to have existed in the imagination
of a few warm admirers of everything ancient. If the prelates of France
were dissolute after the introduction of the concordat, we are assured by a
writer by no means partial to the "new doctrines," that the state of affairs
was no better at an earlier period. In their abbeys or bishoprics they were as
debauched as those who followed arms for their profession.[106] The
bishops bought their places with money, or with promises which were to be
fulfilled after preferment. "And when they had attained these high
dignities," he adds, "God knows what lives they led. Assuredly they were
far more devoted to their dioceses than they have since been; for they never
left them. But it was to lead a most dissolute life with their dogs and birds,
with their feasts, banquets, marriage entertainments and courtezans, of
whom they gathered seraglios.... All this was permitted, and none dared to
remonstrate or utter censure. Even more could be related, which is passed
over in silence through fear of creating scandal. Our present bishops, if not
better men, are at least more discreet hypocrites, and more skilfully conceal
their black vices."[107] Nor were the morals of the monastic orders depicted
in brighter colors. "Generally the monks elected the most jovial companion,
him who was the most fond of women, dogs, and birds, the deepest drinker
—in short, the most dissipated; and this in order that, when they had made
him abbot or prior, they might be permitted to indulge in similar debauch
and pleasure. Indeed, they bound him beforehand by strong oaths, to which
he was forced to conform either voluntarily or by constraint. The worst was
that, when they failed to agree in their elections, they usually came to blows
with fist and sword, and inflicted wounds and even death. In a word, there
was more tumult, more faction and intrigue, than there is at the election of
the Rector of the University of Paris."[108] It was not strange, therefore, that
Francis, unable otherwise to recompense his deserving nobles, should prefer
to bestow upon them rich abbeys and priories, rather than leave these to the
monks in their cloisters—monks who, as the monarch used to say, "were
good for nothing but to eat and drink, to frequent taverns and gamble, to
twist cords for the cross-bow, set traps for ferrets and rabbits, and train
linnets to whistle"—men whose idleness and other vices were so notorious
that the expressions, "He is as idle as a priest or monk," and "Avaricious
and lewd as a priest or monk," passed into proverbs.[109]

Ecclesiastical teachers themselves so ignorant and
corrupt could not be expected to do much for the Aversion to the use
elevation of the laity. Of popularizing knowledge, of the French
language.
especially religious knowledge, the clergy and their
adherents had little thought. Latin alone was deemed suitable for the
discussion of matters of faith. It was enough to condemn the employment of
French for this purpose, that it could be understood by the people. For the
reformers was reserved the honor of raising the dialect of the masses to the
dignity of a language fit for the highest literary uses, and of compelling
even their antagonists to resort to it in self-defence, though, it must be
confessed, with a very poor grace. So late as in 1558 we find a leading
theologian of the Sorbonne publicly apologizing for the condescension.
"Very dear friend," he writes in the address to the reader, "I doubt not that,
at first sight, you will regard it as strange and perhaps very wrong that this
reply is couched in the vulgar tongue; seeing that it would be much more
suitable were it circulated in the Latin rather than the French tongue,
inasmuch as the subject-matter consists of things greatly concerning
Christian faith, which require rather to be put in Latin than in French. Of
this also we have the example of the holy ancient doctors, who were always
accustomed to write against heretics in Latin and not in French."[110] If such
was the avowed repugnance to the use of the language of the people in the
treatment of religious themes, so late as within a year of the death of Henry
the Second, it may readily be conceived how deep the aversion was a
generation earlier, at the first appearance of the reformation.
As to acquaintance with the contents of the Holy
Scriptures, either in the original or in translation, there Ignorance of the
Holy Scriptures.
was next to none among the professed teachers of
science and religion. If the statements of the celebrated scholar and printer,
Robert Étienne, or Stephens, seem almost incredible, they nevertheless
come from a witness of unimpeachable veracity. Referring to the period of
his boyhood or early youth—he was born in 1503—Étienne sketched the
biblical attainments of the doctors of the Sorbonne after this fashion: "In
those times, as I can affirm with truth, when I asked them in what part of
the New Testament some matter was written, they used to answer that they
had read it in Saint Jerome or in the Decretals, but that they did not know
what the New Testament was, not being aware that it was customary to print

it after the Old. What I am going to state will appear almost a prodigy, and
yet there is nothing more true nor better proven: Not long since, a member
of their college used daily to say, 'I am amazed that these young people
keep bringing up the New Testament to us. I was more than fifty years old
before I knew anything about the New Testament!'"[111]
The absence of teaching founded upon a rational
exposition of the Holy Scriptures was not less marked Miracles to
stimulate the
than was the abundance of reported miracles, by means popular faith.
of which the popular faith was stimulated and sustained.
Above all, the doctrine of transubstantiation was The "ghost of
fortified by the circulation of stories of wonders such as Orleans."
that which took place at Poitiers, in 1516, when the
consecrated wine, spilled by a crazy man, from white instantly became red.
[112]
At other times imposture was resorted to in support of such profitable
beliefs as the existence of purgatorial fires, or to inculcate the advantage
accruing from masses for the souls of the dead. The "ghost of Orleans" has
become historic. The wife of the provost of the city having died, was
buried, as she had requested, without any pomp and without the customary
gifts to the church. Thereupon the Franciscans conceived the scheme of
making use of her example to warn others against following a course so
detrimental to monastic and priestly interests. The mysterious knockings by
means of which the deceased was supposed to give intimation of her
miserable doom and of her desire that her body, as of one that had been
tainted with heresy, should be removed from the holy ground wherein it had
been interred, were listened to with amazement by the awe-stricken people.
But the opportune discovery of a novice, conveniently posted above the
ceiling of the convent chapel, sadly interfered with the success of the well
contrived plot, and eleven monks convicted of complicity in the fraud were
banished the kingdom. They would have been even more severely punished
had not fear been entertained lest the reformers might find too much
occasion for triumph.[113]
More excusable were the theatrical effects which were
intended, without actually deceiving, to heighten the Theatrical effects.
religious devotion of worshippers. Thus, every Pentecost
or Whit-Sunday, in the midst of the service an angel was A strange coin.

seen to descend from the lofty ceiling of the Sainte Chapelle in Paris,
attended by two smaller angels, and bearing a silver vase containing water
for the use of the celebrant of the high mass.[114] For this somewhat
harmless piece of spectacular display a justification might be sought in the
religious impressions which the people were supposed to derive most easily
through the senses; but nothing could be urged in defence of much that the
clergy tolerated or encouraged. Superstitions of heathen origin were
suffered to reign undisturbed. Pagan statues were openly worshipped. An
Isis received homage and was honored with burning candles. An Apollo at
Polignac was a centre of religious veneration, and even the unsavory
surroundings, when the spot where it stood was transformed into a stable,
could not deter an anxious crowd of devotees from prostrating themselves
before it.[115] What better could be expected in an age and country in which
the people were imposed upon by reports that prehistoric coins had been
discovered bearing the strange legend: "I believe in Jesus to be born among
animals and of a Virgin"?[116]
It was not astonishing that the church itself did little to
remove the barbarism prevailing among the common Indecent
processions.
people, for, in point of fact, buffoonery, immodesty, and
cruelty had intruded into the very ceremonial of religion. Never were there
more disgusting exhibitions of the low state of the public morals than when
the occurrence of pestilence, drought, or some other signal visitation of the
displeasure of heaven induced a clergy scarcely less rude than the laity to
institute propitiatory processions. On such occasions children of both sexes,
or perhaps grown men and women, with bare feet, and wearing for their
only clothing a sheet that scarcely concealed their forms, passed through the
streets of the towns, or wearily trudged from village to village, responsively
singing the litanies of the Virgin or the saints, and loudly repeating the
refrain, Ora pro nobis.[117] Often shameful indecency and a reckless
disregard of human life were displayed. In one of the villages of
Champagne, during the protracted drought of 1556, the sacred scenes of the
Passion were publicly enacted in the streets. The person of our Lord was
represented by a young man in a state of entire nudity and bound with
cords, who at every step was scourged by his companions, personating the
Roman soldiers. The picture was true to life, and the blows so far from
unreal that the prime actor in the scandalous performance fell a victim to

the inhuman treatment and died within a few days. The fruits of practices so
coarse and debasing were such as may easily be conceived.[118]
It was a lamentable but notorious fact that, as a
consequence of the unnatural divorce of religion and The monastic
orders incur
morality, the clergy, both secular and regular, by their contempt.
excesses had incurred the contempt of the laity. If the
Franciscan monks enjoyed an unenviable pre-eminence in this respect, so as
to have come to constitute one of the stock characters in the "Heptameron"
and similar works, scarcely less constant than the prodigals or parasites of
the New Comedy, the other orders were but little behind them. And so
Louise de Savoie made this significant entry in her diary: "In the year 1522,
in December, my son and I, by the grace of the Holy Ghost, began to
understand the hypocrites, white, black, gray, smoky, and of all colors; from
whom may God, by his clemency and infinite goodness, be pleased to
preserve and defend us. For, if Jesus Christ be not a liar, there is no more
dangerous generation in all human kind."[119] Bishops and cardinals won
little more respect than the monks; for was it not the most prominent of the
wearers of the purple who, as Chancellor of France, introduced venality into
the most sacred offices of state,[120] while by his quarrelsome and
unscrupulous diplomacy he richly merited the bon mot of the Emperor
Charles the Fifth, that he was more inclined to make four wars than, one
peace?[121]
It does not enter into the province of this history to
discuss in detail the causes of the deplorable vices that Abortive efforts at
reform.
characterized the priesthood on the eve of the great
religious movement of the sixteenth century; nor can we pause to make that
analysis of the doctrinal errors then prevalent, which belongs rather to the
office of the historian of the Reformation. It will be sufficient, therefore, if
we glance hastily at some of the partial and abortive efforts directed toward
the reform of doctrine and manners of which mediæval France was the
theatre.
Foremost among the popular opponents of the papacy
were the Cathari and Albigenses. The accounts of the The Cathari and
Albigenses.
origin of the sect or sects bearing these names are vague
and unsatisfactory, and the reports of their creed and worship are

inconsistent or incredible. The ruin that overwhelmed them spared no
friendly narrative of their history, and scarcely one authoritative exposition
of the belief for the profession of which their adherents encountered death
with heroic fortitude. Defeat not only compelled the remnants of the
Albigenses to succumb to Simon de Montfort and his fellow crusaders, but
reduced them to the indignity of having the record of their faith and self-
devotion transmitted to posterity only in the hostile chronicles of Roman
ecclesiastics. But even partisan animosity has not robbed the world of the
edifying spectacle of a large number of men and women, of a quiet and
peaceable disposition, persistently and fearlessly protesting, through a long
series of years, against the worship of saints and images, resisting the
innovations of a corrupt church, and adhering with constancy to a simple
ritual unencumbered with superstitious observances. Careful investigation
establishes the fact that the Holy Scriptures were read and accepted as the
supreme authority as well in doctrine as in practice, and that the precepts
there inculcated were adorned by lives so pure and exemplary as to evoke
an involuntary expression of admiration from bitter opponents.
There is little doubt that strange doctrinal errors found a foothold in parts, at
least, of the extensive territory in southern France occupied by the
Albigenses. Oriental Dualism or Manichæism not improbably disfigured the
creed of portions of the sect; while the belief of others scarcely differed
from that of the less numerous Waldenses of Provence or their brethren in
the valleys of Piedmont. But, whatever may be the truth on this much
contested point,[122] the remarkable spread of the Albigenses during the
latter part of the twelfth century must be regarded as strongly marking the
revolt of the French mind, especially in the more impetuous south, against
the priestly absolutism that crushed all freedom of religious thought, and
equally against a church tolerating the most flagrant abuses. Nor can the
historian who desires to trace the more remote consequences of important
moral movements fail to notice the singular fact that the soil watered by
Albigensian blood at the beginning of the thirteenth century was precisely
that in which the seed sown by the reformers, three hundred years later,
sprang up most rapidly and bore the most abundant harvest. After so long a
period of suspended activity, the spirit of opposition once more asserted its
vital energy—soon, it is true, to meet fresh difficulties, but only such
difficulties as would tend to develop and strengthen it.

With the suppression of the Albigenses all open popular
protest against the errors of the church ceases until the The crime of
advent of the Reformation. The latent tendency did, vauderie.
indeed, manifest its continued existence in those obscure practices known
as vauderie, which, distorted by the imagination of reckless informers and
interested judges, and converted into the most monstrous crimes against
religion and morality, occasioned the death of countless innocent victims.
[123]
But it was chiefly among the learned, and particularly in the bosom of
the University of Paris, that the pressing need of a thorough purification of
the church found expression. Not that the remedies advocated were so
definite and radical, or based upon so full a recognition of the distinctive
character of Christianity, as to merit the name of reformatory projects. Yet,
standing somewhat in advance of their contemporaries, a few theologians
raised their voices in decided condemnation of those evils which needed
only to be held up to public notice to incur the universal reprobation of
mankind.
Nicholas de Clemangis, Rector of the University of
Paris, subsequently private secretary of Benedict the Nicholas de
Clemangis.
Thirteenth at Avignon, and perhaps the most elegant
writer of his age, drew a startling picture of the wretched
state of the church at the beginning of the fifteenth John Gerson.
century. No writer had ever described more vividly the corruption of the
convents and monasteries, or denounced more unsparingly the
unfaithfulness and impurity of the parish clergy, and the simony pervading
alike all grades of the hierarchy. His censure was the more effective because
he spoke in sorrow rather than in anger.[124] John Gerson, his contemporary
and friend, who reached the eminent position of chancellor of the
university, was not less bold in stigmatizing the same evils, while the
weight of his authority was even greater. So far, however, was he from
grasping the nature and need of a substantial renovation of the existing
religious belief, that to his influence in no inconsiderable measure was due
the perfidious condemnation and execution of the great Bohemian
forerunner of the Reformation, John Huss. The student of mediæval history
may be inclined to smile at the subtilties of scholastic distinctions, but he is
also compelled to lament the fact that the death of a Realist was greeted

with demonstrations of evident satisfaction by a philosopher belonging to
the opposite school of the Nominalists.[125]
A century elapsed between the time of Nicholas de
Clemangis and Gerson and the almost simultaneous Jean Bouchet's
"Deploration."
appearance of Ulrich Zwingle in Switzerland and Martin
Luther in Germany. During this long interval of expectation the voice of
remonstrance was not altogether silent. A few earnest men refused to
suppress the indignation they felt at the sight of the impiety that had
invaded the sacred precincts of the church. Among the last of those whose
words have come down to us was Jean Bouchet, a native of Poitiers. In
1512, only five years before the publication of the theses of the reformer of
Wittemberg, he gave to the world a poem not devoid of historical interest,
though possessed of little poetic merit, entitled "La Déploration de l'Église
militante."[126] In this spirited lament it is the church herself that addresses
the hierarchy—pontiff, cardinals, patriarchs, bishops, and others—as well
as kings and secular dignitaries. She complains of the great injuries and
molestations she endures. The practice of simony has converted a temple
into a loathsome stable. Science and learning are no longer necessary for
the candidate for ecclesiastical preferment; a hundred crowns in hand will
serve his purpose much better, no matter how bad his moral character may
be. As for his qualifications, he is full well provided if he can manage the
hounds aright and knows how to hunt with the falcon. "Cease," cries the
church through the poet to the French princes, "cease to load me down with
gewgaws, with chalices, crosses, and sumptuous ornaments. Furnish me
instead with virtuous ministers. The exquisite beauty of abbeys or of silver
images is less pleasing in God's sight than the holy life of good prelates."
[127]
As it is, the dissolute ministers of religion are engrossed in forbidden
games, in banquets, and the chase. Decked out with flowers, rings, and
trinkets, the bishop in his dress is more like a soldier or a juggler, than a
servant of the church. He recites his prayers reluctantly, while words of
profane swearing flow freely from his lips. From such disorders as these the
church invokes her worldly protectors to deliver her.
The abuses which Jean Bouchet described, and other abuses of a similar
kind, were so notorious that no intelligent man could close his eyes to the
evidence of their existence. They had been recited again and again by more

eloquent tongues than that of the poet of Poitiers. Dante and Petrarch had
held them up to immortal contempt. Boccaccio had made them the subject
of ridicule in his popular stories. But neither remonstrance nor taunt had
effectually abated the prevailing corruption. It remained that a new remedy
should be tried, and the time for its application was close at hand.

It must not be forgotten that the boundaries of
France varied considerably during the sixteenth Changes in the
century. Thus Artois and Flanders, at the boundaries of
France during
accession of Francis the First, were nominally the sixteenth
fiefs of the French crown, for which Charles of century.
Austria sent to France a very honorable
embassy, with Henry, Count of Nassau, at its head, to do
homage to the young prince. It was on this occasion that
Francis, desirous of gratifying Charles, proposed or consented to
the marriage of his favorite with Claude de Châlons, daughter of
the Prince of Orange (Jean de Serres, Inventaire Général de
l'Histoire de France, 1619, ii. 4, Motley, Dutch Republic, i. 234).
Eleven years later, January, 1526, by the Treaty of Madrid,
Francis renounced his suzerainty over the counties of Artois and
Flanders, as a condition of his release from captivity (Inventaire
Général, ii. 96). On the other hand, not to speak of the "Three
Bishoprics"—Metz, Toul, and Verdun—definitely incorporated
with the French dominions in 1552, France had for a longer or
shorter time possession of the Duchy of Milan, of the island of
Corsica, and of Piedmont. Not only Bresse, but the very Duchy
of Savoy, were for years merged in the realm of France, until
restored to Philibert Emmanuel by the disgraceful Treaty of
Cateau-Cambrésis.

CHAPTER II.
THE REFORMATION AT MEAUX.

The reformatory movement, whose almost simultaneous
rise at so many different points constitutes one of the Jacques Lefèvre
d'Étaples.
most noticeable features of the history of Europe in the
sixteenth century, originated, so far as France was concerned, within the
bosom of that famous nursery of mediæval learning, the University of Paris.
Among the teachers who, during the later years of the reign of Louis the
Twelfth, attracted the studious from the most distant parts of Christendom,
Jacques Lefèvre, a native of Étaples in Picardy, held a high rank for natural
ability and extensive acquirements. It is true that neither his personal
appearance nor his extraction commanded respect: he was diminutive in
stature, and he could boast of no noble blood running in his veins.[128] A
more formidable hinderance in the path to distinction had been the
barbarous instruction he had received from incompetent masters, both in the
inferior schools and in the university itself. But all obstacles, physical,
social, and intellectual, melted away before the ardor of an extraordinarily
active mind. Rising steadily above the contracted views, the blind respect
for authority, and the self-satisfied ignorance of the instructors of his youth
and the colleagues of his manhood and old age, he greeted with delight the
advent of those liberal ideas which had wrought so wonderful a change in
Germany and Italy. A thirst for knowledge even led him, in imitation of the
sages of the early world, to travel to distant parts of Europe, and, if we may
credit the statements of his admiring disciples, to pursue his investigations
into portions of Asia and Africa.
To Jacques Lefèvre, of Étaples—better known to
foreigners under the Latin designation of Faber Restores letters to
France.
Stapulensis—belongs the honor of restoring letters to
France. His eulogist, Scævola de Sainte-Marthe, has not
His wide range of
exaggerated his merit, when, placing him in the front study.
rank of the learned men whom he celebrates, he likens

the Picard doctor to a new sun rising from the Belgian coast to dissipate the
fogs and darkness investing his native land and pour upon its youth the full
beams of a purer teaching.[129] Lefèvre confined his attention to no single
branch of learning. He was equally proficient in mathematics, in astronomy,
and in Biblical literature and criticism.[130] Brilliant attainments in so many
departments were commended yet more to the admiration of beholders by a
modest and unassuming deportment, by morals above reproach, and by a
disinterested nature in which there was no taint of avarice. The sincerity of
his unselfish love of knowledge was said to be attested by the liberality with
which he renounced the entire income of his small patrimony in favor of his
needy relations.[131]
Enjoying a reputation for profound and exact learning
which had spread to foreign countries, and admired even His pupil,
Guillaume Farel.
by the great humanist Erasmus, Lefèvre had drawn to
him a small band of the most promising of the scholars in attendance upon
the university. Prominent among these for brilliancy and fiery zeal was a
student more than thirty years younger than his teacher, Guillaume Farel,
destined to fill an important place in the annals of the French reformation,
and to play a leading role in the history of Geneva and Neufchâtel. Farel
was born in 1489, near Gap, in Dauphiny, and his childhood was spent at
the foot of the Alps. Unlike Lefèvre, he belonged to a family of
considerable importance in the provincial nobility. The contrast was still
more marked between the mild and timid professor and the pupil in whose
nature courage was so prominent an element that it often assumed the
appearance of imprudent contempt of danger.
But, in spite of dissimilarity of character, Lefèvre and
Farel lived together in close friendship. Together they Devotion of scholar
and pupil.
frequented the churches, and united in the pious work, as
they regarded it, of decking out with flowers the pictures of the saints, to
whose shrines they made frequent pilgrimages. Lefèvre was scrupulously
exact in the performance of his religious duties, and was especially punctual
in attendance on the mass. In his zeal for the church, he had even
undertaken as a meritorious task to compile the lives of the saints whose
names appear on the Roman calendar, and had actually committed to the
press an account of those whose feast-days fell within the months of

January and February.[132] On the other hand, Farel was so sincere an
adherent of the current faith, that, to employ his own forcible description,
he had become "a very Pantheon, full of intercessors, saviors and gods, of
whom his heart might have passed for a complete register." The papacy had
so entrenched itself in his heart, that even the Pope and papal church were
not so papal as he. The man who came to him with the Pope's endorsement
appeared to him like a god, while he would gladly have overwhelmed in
ruin the sacrilegious wretch that dared to say a word against the Roman
pontiff and his authority.[133]
But the enthusiastic devotion of Lefèvre and his more
impetuous disciple to the tenets of the Roman church Lefèvre's
was to be shaken by a closer study of the Scriptures. In commentary on the
Pauline Epistles.
1508 Lefèvre completed a Latin commentary upon the
Psalms.[134] In 1512 he published a commentary in the same language on
the Pauline Epistles—a work which may indeed fall short of the standard of
criticism established by a subsequent age, but yet contains a clear
enunciation of the doctrine of justification by faith, the cardinal doctrine of
the Reformation.[135]
Thus, five years before Luther posted his theses on the
doors of the church at Wittemberg, Jacques Lefèvre had Foresees the
coming
proclaimed, in no equivocal terms, his belief in the same reformation.
great principles. But Lefèvre's lectures in the college and
his written commentary were addressed to the learned. Consequently they
produced no such immediate and startling effect as the ninety-five
propositions of the Saxon monk. Lefèvre was not himself to be an active
instrument in the French reformation. His office was rather to prepare the
way for others—not, perhaps, more sincere, but certainly more courageous
—to enter upon the hazardous undertaking of attempting to renovate the
church. His faithful disciple, indeed, has preserved for us a remarkable
prophecy, uttered by Lefèvre at the very time when he was still assiduous in
his devotion to the Virgin Mary and the saints. Grasping Farel by the hand,
the venerable doctor more than once addressed to him the significant words,
which made a deep impression on the hearer's mind: "Guillaume, the world
is going to be renewed, and you will behold it!"[136]

Lefèvre did not intermit his biblical studies. In 1518 he
published a short treatise on "the three Marys," to prove Controversy with
that Mary the sister of Lazarus, Mary Magdalene, and Beda.
"the woman which was a sinner," were not one and the
same person, according to the common belief of the The Sorbonne's
declaration.
time. Unfortunately, the Roman church, by the lessons
set down for the feast-days, had given its sanction to the prevalent error.
Now, the fears and suspicions of the theologians of the Sorbonne had,
during the past year, been aroused by the fame of Martin Luther's "heresy,"
and they were ready to resent any attempt at innovation, however slight,
either in doctrine or in practice, as evidence of heretical proclivities. Natalis
Beda, the ignorant but pedantic syndic of the theological faculty, entered the
lists as Lefèvre's opponent, and an animated dispute was waged between the
friends of the two combatants. Of so great moment was the decision
regarded by Poncher, Bishop of Paris, that he induced Fisher, Bishop of
Rochester, to write an essay in refutation of the views of Lefèvre.[137] But
the Sorbonne, not content with this, on the ninth of November, 1521,
declared that he was a heretic who should presume to maintain the truth of
Lefèvre's proposition. Lefèvre himself would probably have experienced
even greater indignities at the hands of parliament—whose members were
accustomed to show excessive respect to the fanatical demands of the
faculty—had not Guillaume Petit, the king's confessor, induced Francis to
interfere in behalf of the Picard professor.[138]
To these two actors in the drama of the French
reformation a third must now be added. Guillanme Briçonnet, Bishop
Briçonnet, Bishop of Meaux, stood in the front rank of of Meauz.
aspiring and fortunate churchmen. His father, commonly known as the
Cardinal of St. Malo, had passed from the civil administration into the
hierarchy of the Gallican Church. Rewarded for services rendered to Louis
the Eleventh and Charles the Eighth by the gift of the rich abbey of St.
Germain-des-Prés and the archbishopric of Rheims, he had, in virtue of his
possession of the latter dignity, anointed Louis the Twelfth at his
coronation. As cardinal, he had headed the French party in the papal
consistory, and, more obedient to his sovereign than to the pontiff, when
Louis demanded the convocation of a council at Pisa to resist the
encroachments of Julius the Second, the elder Briçonnet left Rome to join

in its deliberations, and to face the dangers attending an open rupture with
the Pope. The cardinal was now dead, having left to Guillaume, born
previously to his father's entrance into orders, a good measure of the royal
favor he had himself enjoyed. The younger Briçonnet had been successively
created Archdeacon of Rheims and Avignon, Abbot of St. Germain-des-
Prés, and Bishop of Lodève and Meaux. His title of Count of Montbrun
gave him, moreover, a place in the nobility.[139] Meantime a reformatory
tendency had early revealed itself in the efforts made by the young
ecclesiastic to enforce the observance of canonical discipline by the
luxurious friars of the monastery of St. Germain. Here, too, he had tasted
the first fruits of the opposition which was before long to test his firmness
and constancy.
Briçonnet had been appointed Bishop of Meaux (March 19, 1516) about the
same time that Francis the First despatched him as special envoy to treat
with the Pope. It would seem that the intimate acquaintance with the papal
court gained on this occasion, confirming the impressions made by a
previous diplomatic mission in the time of Louis the Twelfth, convinced
Briçonnet that the church stood in urgent need of reform; and he resolved to
begin the work in his own diocese.
Weary of the annoyance and peril arising from the
ignorance and malice of his enemies, the theologians of Lefèvre and Farel
invited to Meaux.
the Sorbonne, Lefèvre d'Étaples longed for a more quiet
home, where he might reasonably hope to contribute his share to the great
renovation descried long since by his prophetic glance. He was now invited
by Briçonnet, to whom his learning and zeal were well known, to
accompany him to Meaux, where, at the distance of a little more than a
score of miles from the capital, he would at least be rid of the perpetual
clamor against Luther and his doctrines that assailed his ears in Paris.[140]
He was accompanied, or followed, to Meaux by his pupil, Farel. Over the
views of the latter a signal change had come since he entered the university,
full of veneration for the saints, and an enthusiastic supporter of the mass,
of the papal hierarchy, and of every institution authorized by ecclesiastical
tradition. After a painful mental struggle, of which he has himself given us a
graphic account,[141] Farel had been reluctantly brought to the startling
conviction that the system of which he had been an enthusiastic advocate

was a tissue of falsehoods and an abomination in God's sight. It required no
more than this to bring a man of so resolute a character to a decision. Partly
by his own assiduous application to study, especially of the Greek and
Hebrew languages and of the Church Fathers, partly through the influence
of Lefèvre, he had become professor of philosophy in the college of the
Cardinal Le Moine. This advantageous position he resigned, in order that he
might be able to second the labors of Lefèvre in the new field which Bishop
Briçonnet had thrown open to him. Other pupils or friends of the Picard
doctor followed—Michel d'Arande, Gérard Roussel, and others, all more or
less thoroughly imbued with the same sentiments.
A new era had now dawned upon the neglected diocese
of Meaux. Bishop Briçonnet was fully possessed by his The king's mother
new-born zeal. The king's mother and his only sister had and sister
encourage the
honored him with a visit not long after Lefèvre's arrival, preaching of the
[142]
and had left him confident that in his projected reformers.
reforms, and especially in the introduction of the preaching of the Word of
God, he might count upon their powerful support. "I assure you," Margaret
of Angoulême wrote him a month later, "that the king and madame are
entirely decided to let it be understood that the truth of God is not heresy."
[143]
And a few weeks later the same princely correspondent declared that
her mother and brother were "more intent than ever upon the reformation of
the church."[144] With such flattering prospects the reformation opened at
Meaux.
From the year 1521, when the ardent friends of religious
progress made their appearance in the city, the pulpits, Immediate results.
rarely entered by the curates or by the mendicant monks
unless to demand a fresh contribution of money, were filled with zealous
preachers. The latter expounded the Gospel, in place of rehearsing the
stories of the "Golden Legend;" and the people, at first attracted by the
novelty of the sound, were soon enamored of the doctrines proclaimed.
These doctrines stood, indeed, in signal opposition to those of the Roman
church. By slow but sure steps the advocates of the Reformation had come
to assume a position scarcely less unequivocal than that of Luther in
Germany. In 1514, two years after the publication of the commentary in
which he had clearly enunciated the Protestant doctrine on one cardinal

point, Lefèvre would seem still to have been unsurpassed in his devotion to
pictures and images.[145] Two years later he was regarded by Luther as
strangely deficient in a clear apprehension of spiritual truths which,
nevertheless, he fully exemplified in a life of singular spirituality and
sincerity.[146] And it was not until 1519 that, by the arguments of his own
pupil, Farel, he was convinced of the impropriety of saint-worship and of
prayers for the dead.[147] But now there could be no doubt respecting
Lefèvre's attitude. Placed by Bishop Briçonnet in charge of the
"Léproserie," and subsequently entrusted with the powers of vicar-general
over the entire diocese,[148] he exerted an influence not hard to trace. A
contemporary, when chronicling, a few years later, that "the greater part of
Meaux was infected with the false doctrines of Luther," made the cause of
all the trouble to be one Fabry (Lefèvre), a priest and scholar, who rejected
pictures from the churches, forbade the use of holy water for the dead, and
denied the existence of purgatory.[149]
The mystic Gérard Roussel, an eloquent speaker, whom
the bishop appointed curate of St. Saintin, and Gérard Roussel and
Mazurier.
subsequently treasurer and canon of the cathedral, was
prominent among the new preachers, but was surpassed in exuberant
display of zeal by Martial Mazurier, Principal of the Collége de St. Michel
in Paris, who now fulfilled the functions of curate of the church of St.
Martin at Meaux.
It was not long before the apprehension of the monastic
orders was aroused by the great popularity of the new Apprehension of
teachers. The wool-carders, weavers, and fullers the monks aroused.
accepted the novel doctrine with delight as meeting a
want which they had discovered in spite of poverty and De Roma's threat.
ignorance. The day-laborers frequenting the neighborhood of Meaux, to aid
the farmers in harvest-time, carried back to their more secluded districts the
convictions they had obtained, and themselves became efficient agents in
the promulgation of the faith elsewhere. If the anticipations of a speedy
spread of the reformation throughout France were brilliant in the minds of
its early apostles, the determination of its opponents was equally fixed. An
incident occurred about this time which might almost be regarded as of
prophetic import. Farel, who was present, is our sole informant. On one

occasion Lefèvre and a few friends were engaged in conversation with
some warm partisans of the old abuses, when the old doctor, warming at the
prospect he seemed to behold, exclaimed, "Already the Gospel is winning
the hearts of the nobles and of the common people alike! Soon it will spread
over all France, and cast down the inventions which the hand of man has set
up." "Then," angrily retorted one De Roma, a Dominican monk, "Then I,
and others like me, will join in preaching a crusade; and should the king
tolerate the proclamation of the Gospel, we shall drive him from his
kingdom by means of his own subjects!"[150]
The Dominican friar stood forth at that moment the embodiment of the
monastic spirit speaking defiance to the nascent reform. The church of the
state, with its rich abbeys and priories, its glorious old cathedrals, and
boundless possessions of lands and houses, was not to be resigned without a
struggle so terrific as to shake the foundations of the throne itself. The germ
of the Guises and the League, with Jacques Clément and Ravaillac, was
already formed, and possessed a prodigious latent vitality.
Bishop Briçonnet was himself active in promoting the
evangelical work, preaching against the most flagrant Briçonnet's activity.
abuses, and commending to the confidence of his flock
the more eloquent preachers whom he had introduced. The incredible rumor
even gained currency that the hot-headed prelate went through his diocese
casting down the images and sparing no object of idolatrous worship in the
churches.[151] But, however improbable it may be that Briçonnet ever
engaged in any such iconoclastic demonstrations, it is a strong Roman
Catholic partisan who has preserved the record of this significant warning
given by the prelate to his flock, and elicited either by the consciousness of
his own moral feebleness, or by a certain vague premonition of danger:
"Even should I, your bishop, change my speech and teaching, beware that
you change not with me!"[152]
Under Briçonnet's protection Jacques Lefèvre assumed a
task less restricted in its influence than preaching, in Lefèvre translates
the New Testament.
which he probably took a less active part than his
coadjutors. The Bible was a closed book to the common people in France.
The learned might familiarize themselves with its contents by a perusal of
the Latin Vulgate; but readers acquainted with their mother tongue alone

were reduced to the necessity of using a rude version wherein text and gloss
were mingled in inextricable confusion, and the Scriptures were made to
countenance the most absurd abuses.[153] The best furnished libraries rarely
contained more than a few detached books of the Bible, and these intended
for ornament rather than use.[154] Lefèvre resolved, therefore, to apply
himself to the translation of the Sacred Scriptures from the Latin Vulgate
into the French language. In June, 1523, he published a version of the four
gospels, and in the autumn of the same year he gave to the world the rest of
the New Testament. Five years later he added a translation of the Old
Testament. It was a magnificent undertaking, prompted by a fervent desire
to promote the spiritual interests of his countrymen. In its execution, the
inaccuracies incident to so novel an enterprise, and the comparative
harshness of the style, can readily be forgiven. For, aside from its own
merits, the version of Lefèvre d'Étaples formed the basis for the subsequent
version of Robert Olivetanus, itself the groundwork of many later
translations.
Lefèvre and his associates had not erred in anticipating
remarkable results from the publication of the Scriptures The translation
in the language of the people. The copies of the New eagerly bought.
Testament no sooner left the press than they were
eagerly bought. They penetrated into obscure hamlets to Delight of Lefèvre.
which no missionary of the "new doctrines" could find access. By the wool-
carders of Meaux the prize thus unexpectedly placed within reach was
particularly valued. The liberality of Bishop Briçonnet is said to have freely
supplied copies to those who were too poor to afford the purchase-money.
The prelate introduced the French Scriptures into the churches of Meaux,
where the unparalleled innovation of reading the lessons in an intelligible
tongue struck the people with amazement. "You can scarcely imagine,"
wrote the delighted Lefèvre to a distant friend,[155] "with what ardor God is
moving the minds of the simple, in some places, to embrace His word since
the books of the New Testament have been published in French, though you
will justly lament that they have not been scattered more widely among the
people. The attempt has been made to hinder the work, under cover of the
authority of parliament; but our most generous king has become in this
matter the defender of Christ's cause, declaring it to be his pleasure that his
kingdom shall hear the word of God freely and without hinderance in the

language which it understands. At present, throughout our entire diocese, on
feast-days, and especially on Sunday, both the epistle and gospel are read to
the people in the vernacular tongue, and the parish priest adds a word of
exhortation to the epistle or gospel, or both, at his discretion."
There did, indeed, seem to be amply sufficient ground for the "exultation"
expressed by the worthy Picard at the rapid progress of the Reformation
throughout Europe and the flattering prospects offered in France itself.[156]
Everything seemed for a time to promise success at Meaux. Bishop
Briçonnet received with delight the advice of the Swiss and German
reformers. The letters of Œcolampadius, from Basle, in particular so deeply
impressed him, that he commissioned Gérard Roussel to read in the French
language and explain the meaning of the Pauline Epistles every morning to
a promiscuous gathering of persons of both sexes, and chose out the most
evangelical preachers to perform similar duty in all the more important
places in his diocese.[157]
But the bishop had excited the active enmity of a
resolute and suspicious foe. In forbidding the Franciscan Enmity of the
Franciscans.
monks entrance to any pulpit within his jurisdiction, he
had, even before the advent of Lefèvre and the reformed
teachers, incurred their violent animosity.[158] The new Weakness
Briçonnet.
of Bishop

movement, while arousing their indignation, gave them
the opportunity they coveted for invoking the power of the university and of
parliament. At first the bishop was bold enough to denounce the doctors of
the Sorbonne as Pharisees and false prophets,[159] while in his private
correspondence he stigmatized the clergy as "the estate by the coldness of
which all the others are frozen,"[160] or even as "that which is the ruin of all
the rest."[161] But, frightened by the incessant clamor and attacks of his
enemies, he began gradually to waver, and presently lost all courage. In the
end he yielded so far as to suffer to be published in his name official
documents which were intended to overturn from the foundation the very
fabric he had been striving to rear. In one of these, a "Synodal Decree"
addressed to the faithful of his diocese, the bishop was made to condemn
the books of Martin Luther, and to denounce Luther himself as one who
was plotting the overthrow of "the estate which keeps all the rest in the path
of duty."[162] Quite another description of the clergy this from either of the

descriptions which he gave to Margaret of Angoulême! The other document
was a letter to the clergy of his diocese, warning them against certain
preachers "brought in by himself to share his pastoral cares," who, under
cover of proclaiming the Gospel, had "dared, in defiance of the evangelical
truth, to preach that purgatory does not exist, and that, consequently, we
must not pray for the dead, nor invoke the very holy Virgin Mary and the
saints."[163]
The precise time of Briçonnet's pusillanimous defection, as marked by the
publication of these pastoral letters, is involved in some obscurity; for
assuredly the date affixed to the transcripts that have come down to us
conflicts too seriously with the well-known facts of history to be accepted
as correct.[164]
Later Roman Catholic historians have asserted that the act was a voluntary
one; that Briçonnet had never in reality sympathized with the religious
views of reformers whom he had invited to Meaux simply because of his
admiration for learning; that no sooner did he discover the heretical nature
of their teachings than he removed them from the posts to which they had
been assigned; and that he spent the residue of his life in the vain endeavor
to retrieve the fatal consequences of his mistake.[165] But this view is
confirmed by nothing in the prelate's extant correspondence. Everywhere
there is evidence that until his courage broke down, Briçonnet was in full
accord with the reformers. His first step may possibly have been justified at
the bar of conscience by the plausible suggestion that, since the anger of the
Sorbonne had been directed specially against Meaux, the evangelical
preachers could be more serviceable elsewhere. But, from the mere
withdrawal of support to positive measures of repression, the transition was
both natural and speedy.
Unsatisfied by Bishop Briçonnet's merely negative
course, the Parliament of Paris at length cited him to He is cited to
appear before the
appear and answer before a commission consisting of Parliament.
two of its own counsellors. The information thus
obtained was next to be submitted to the judges delegated by the Pope, a
tribunal of the institution of which an account will be given in another
chapter.[166] To this secret investigation Briçonnet objected, and begged to
be tried in open court by the entire body of parliament;[167] but his petition

was rejected, and his examination proceeded before the inquisitorial
commission. What measures were there taken to influence him is not
known. To Martial Mazurier, lately an enthusiastic preacher of the
"Lutheran" doctrines, who had himself, through fear, receded from his
advanced position, the doubtful honor is ascribed of having been prominent
in exertions to overcome the prelate's lingering scruples. However this may
be, when Briçonnet had given sufficient guarantees to satisfy the Sorbonne
that no apprehension need be entertained of a repetition in Meaux of the
dangerous experiment of the public instruction of the people in the Holy
Scriptures, there was nothing to be gained by his condemnation. He was
accordingly acquitted of all charge of heresy, although condemned to pay
the sum of two hundred livres as the expense of bringing to trial the
"heretics" whom he had himself helped to make such.[168] Hereupon he is
said to have returned to his diocese, and, having convened a synod, to have
prohibited, as we have seen, the circulation of Luther's writings,
reintroduced the ecclesiastical practices that had been condemned or
discarded, and given to the persecution now set on foot his unequivocal
sanction.[169]
The teachers whom Briçonnet had so cordially invited to
assist him were compelled one by one to abandon Dispersion of the
reformed teachers.
Meaux. Among the earliest to leave was Farel.[170] His
was no faint heart. If he gave up his activity in Brie, it was only to return to
his native Dauphiny, where a young nobleman, Anemond de Coct, and a
preacher, Pierre de Sebeville, were among the leading men whose
conversion was the fruit of his indefatigable exertions. After a visit to
Guyenne, of which little is known, he passed into German Switzerland, and
labored successively in Basle, Strasbourg, and Montbéliard.[171]
Lefèvre and Roussel were among the last to withdraw;
but, beset with watchful enemies, they found their Annoyances of
those who remain.
position neither safe nor comfortable. It was as difficult
to maintain a semblance of friendship with an ecclesiastical system which
they detested in their hearts, as to refuse their sympathy and support to the
persecuted whose opinions they shared without possessing the courage
necessary to suffer in attestation of the common faith. Busy informers at
one time found evidence, more than warranting the suspicion that Roussel's

manuscripts had furnished the material of which scandalous placards
defamatory of the Pope were framed.[172] A little later the proctor of the
cathedral drew attention to the irregular conventicles held in the church
itself, every Sunday and feast-day, after Roussel had preached. These
"combers, carders, and other persons of the same stamp, unlettered folk,"
[173]
brought with them books containing the Epistles of St. Paul, the
Gospels, and the Psalms, in flagrant disregard of the prohibitions they had
heard respecting the discussion of such topics as faith, the sacraments, the
privileges of Rome, and the use of pictures in the churches. It was made the
occasion of "charitable rebuke" and then of formal complaint against
Roussel by his fellow canons, that he failed to repeat the angelic salutation,
according to the orthodox practice, after the exordium of his sermon. To the
combined exhortations and threats of his accusers Roussel replied in the
chapter that, if he had done wrong, it belonged to the bishop to reprove him,
but that as to himself he esteemed the repetition of the Lord's Prayer quite
as efficacious as the recital of the Ave Maria.[174]
At last danger thickened, and Lefèvre and Roussel found
themselves forced to leave Meaux (October, 1525), and Lefèvre and
Roussel take refuge
sought refuge within the hospitable walls of Strasbourg; in Strasbourg.
for the persecuting measures adopted by the regent,
Louise de Savoie, and the Parliament of Paris, during the Excessive caution
king's captivity, as we shall shortly see, had placed the of Roussel.
lives of even such prudent reformers in peril.[175] In the
free city on the banks of the Rhine, Lefèvre met his pupil Farel, and in the
midst of cordial greetings was reminded by him that the day of "renovation"
which he had long since predicted and desired had really come.[176] But the
contrast between the two men had become sharply drawn. The fearless
athlete, soon to measure his strength with no puny antagonists at
Neufchâtel, Lausanne, Geneva, and so many other places in French
Switzerland, whose course was to be a succession of rough encounters,
discovered that the master from whom he had received the impulse that
shaped his entire life, shrank from sundering the last link binding him to the
Roman church. And Gérard Roussel was even more timid. The elegant
preacher, with fair prospects of preferment, could not bring himself openly
to espouse the quarrel of oppressed truth. A mysticism investing his entire
belief, and perverting his moral perceptions, led him to imagine that the

heart might be kept pure in the midst of many external corruptions, and that
the enlightened could worship the Almighty acceptably in spite of
superstitious observances, which, while countenancing by apparent
acquiescence, they rejected in their hearts. The excellence of the
reformation already inaugurated at Strasbourg made a deep and very
favorable impression upon Roussel. He wrote to Bishop Briçonnet that the
daily preaching of a pure doctrine, "without dross or leaven of the
Pharisees,"[177] the crowds of attentive hearers, the schools presided over by
men as illustrious for piety as for letters, and the careful provision for the
poor, would delight his correspondent were he to see them. He did not
dissemble his own great satisfaction that the monasteries had been changed
into educational establishments, the pictures taken away from the churches,
and every altar removed except one, on which the communion was
celebrated, as nearly as possible, according to the plan of its institution.[178]
At the same time he renounced none of his excessive caution. His words
were still those he had uttered when urged, a twelvemonth earlier, by Farel,
Œcolampadius, and Zwingle, to strike out boldly and by an open dispute on
religion compel the attention of the thoughtless world. "The flesh is weak!
As my friends, Lefèvre and others, urge, the convenient season has not yet
come, the Gospel has not yet been scattered sufficiently far and wide. We
must not assume the Lord's prerogative for sending laborers into the
harvest, but leave the work to Him whose it is, and who can easily raise up
a far richer harvest than that for whose safety we are solicitous!"[179]
Such were the paltry evasions of cowardly souls, to excuse themselves for
the neglect of admitted duty. We cannot wonder at the burning words of
condemnation which this pusillanimity called forth from the pen of brave
Pierre Toussain. "I have spoken to Lefèvre and Roussel," he wrote some
months later, "but certainly Lefèvre has not a particle of courage. May God
confirm and strengthen him! Let them be as wise as they please, let them
wait, procrastinate, and dissemble; the Gospel will never be preached
without the cross! When I see these things, when I see the mind of the king,
the mind of the duchess [Margaret of Angoulême] as favorable as possible
to the advancement of the Gospel of Christ, and those who ought to forward
this matter, according to the grace given them, obstructing their design, I
cannot refrain from tears. They say, indeed: 'It is not yet time, the hour has
not come!' And yet we have here no day or hour. What would not you do

had you the Emperor and Ferdinand favoring your attempts? Entreat God,
therefore, in behalf of France, that she may at length be worthy of His
word."[180]
The remainder of the task imposed on the weak Bishop of Meaux and his
new allies, the monks of St. Francis, proved a more difficult undertaking.
The shepherds had been dispersed, but the flock refused to forsake the fold.
From the nourishing food they had discovered in the Word of God, they
could not be induced to return to the husks offered to them in meaningless
ceremonies, celebrated in an unknown tongue by men of impure lives. The
Gospels in French remained more attractive than the legendary, even after
the bishop had abandoned the championship of the incipient reformation.
Briçonnet's own expressed wish was granted: if he had "changed his speech
and teaching," the common people, at least, had not changed with him.
Among the first fruits of the Reformation in Meaux was
a wool-carder, Jean Leclerc, into whose hands had fallen The wool-carder,
Jean Leclerc, tears
one of Lefèvre's French Testaments. He was a man of down a papal bull.
strong convictions and invincible resolution. A bull,
issued by Clement the Seventh in connection with the His barbarous
approaching jubilee, had been posted on the doors of the sentence.
cathedral (December, 1524). It offered indulgence, and
enjoined prayers, fasting, and partaking of the Communion, in order to
obtain from heaven the restoration of peace between princes of
Christendom. Leclerc secretly tore the bull down, substituting for it a
placard in which the Roman pontiff figured as veritable Antichrist. Diligent
search was at once instituted for the perpetrator of this offence, and for the
author of the subsequent mutilation of the prayers to the Virgin hung up in
various parts of the same edifice. A truculent order was also issued in the
bishop's name, threatening all persons that might conceal their knowledge
of the culprits with public excommunication, every Sunday and feast-day,
"with ringing of bells and with candles lighted and then extinguished and
thrown upon the earth, in token of eternal malediction."[181] Leclerc was
discovered, and taken to Paris for trial. The barbarous sentence of
parliament was, that he be whipped in Paris by the common executioner on
three successive days, then transferred to Meaux to receive the like

punishment, and finally branded on the forehead with a red-hot iron, before
being banished forever from the kingdom.[182]
The cruel prescription was followed out to the letter (March, 1525). A
superstitious multitude flocked together to see and gloat over the condign
punishment of a heretic, and gave no word of encouragement and support.
But, as the iron was leaving on Leclerc's brow the ignominious imprint of
the fleur-de-lis,[183] a single voice suddenly broke in upon the silence. It
was that of his aged mother, who, after an involuntary cry of anguish,
quickly recovered herself and shouted, "Hail Jesus Christ and his standard-
bearers!"[184] Although many heard her words, so deep was the impression,
that no attempt was made to lay hands upon her.[185]
From Meaux, Leclerc, forced to leave his home, retired
first to Rosoy, and thence to Metz.[186] Here, while He is burned alive
at Metz.
supporting himself by working at his humble trade, he
lost none of his missionary spirit. Not content with communicating a
knowledge of the doctrines of the Reformation to all with whom he
conversed, his impatient zeal led him to a new and startling protest against
the prevalent, and, in his view, idolatrous worship of images. Learning that
on a certain day a solemn procession was to be made to a shrine situated a
few miles out of the city gates, he went to the spot under cover of night, and
hurled the sacred images from their places. On the morrow the horrified
worshippers found the objects of their devotion prostrated and mutilated,
and their rage knew no bounds. It was not long before the wool-carder was
apprehended. His religious sentiments were no secret, and he had been seen
returning from the scene of his nocturnal exploit. He promptly
acknowledged his guilt, and was rescued from the infuriated populace only
to undergo a more terrible doom at the hands of the public executioner (July
22, 1525). His right hand was cut off at the wrist, his arms, his nose, his
breast were cruelly torn with pincers; but no cry of anguish escaped the lips
of Leclerc. The sentence provided still further that, before his body should
be consigned to the flames, his head be encircled with a red-hot band of
iron. As the fervent metal slowly ate its way toward his very brain, the
bystanders with amazement heard the dying man calmly repeat the words of
Holy Writ: "Their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hands." He
had not completed the Psalmist's terrific denunciation of the crime and folly

of image-worship when his voice was stifled by the fire and smoke of the
pyre into which his impatient tormentors had hastily thrown him. If not
actually the first martyr of the French Reformation, as has commonly been
supposed, Jean Leclerc deserves, at least, to rank among the most constant
and unswerving of its early apostles.[187]
The poor wool-carder of Meaux was succeeded by more
illustrious victims. One was of the number of the Jacques Pauvan.
teachers who had been attracted to Bishop Briçonnet's
diocese by the prospect of contributing to the progress of a purer doctrine.
Jacques Pauvan[188] was a studious youth who had come from Boulogne, in
Picardy, to perfect his education in the university, and had subsequently
abandoned a career in which he bade fair to obtain distinction, in order to
assist his admired teacher, Lefèvre, at Meaux. He was an outspoken man,
and disguised his opinions on no point of the prevailing controversy. He
asserted that purgatory had no existence, and that God had no vicar. He
repudiated excessive reliance on the doctors of the church. He indignantly
rejected the customary salutation to the Virgin Mary, "Hail Queen, Mother
of mercy!" He denied the propriety of offering candles to the saints. He
maintained that baptism was only a sign, that holy water was nothing, that
papal bulls and indulgences were an imposture of the devil, and that the
mass was not only of no avail for the remission of sins, but utterly
unprofitable to the hearer, while the Word of God was all-sufficient.[189]
Pauvan was put under arrest, and his theses, together with the defence of
their contents which one Matthieu Saunier was so bold as to write, were
submitted to the Sorbonne. Its condemnation was not long withheld. "A
work," said the Paris theologians, "containing propositions extracted and
compiled from the pernicious errors of the Waldenses, Wickliffites,
Bohemians, and Lutherans, being impious, scandalous, schismatic, and
wholly alien from the Christian doctrine, ought publicly to be consigned to
the flames in the diocese of Meaux, whence it emanated. And Jacques
Pauvan and Matthieu Saunier should, by all judicial means, be compelled to
make a public recantation."[190]
Even strong men have their moments of weakness. Pauvan was no
exception to the rule. Besides the terrors of the stake, the persuasions of
Martial Mazurier came in to shake his constancy. This latter, a doctor of

theology, had at one time been so carried away with the desire of innovation
as to hurl down a statue of their patron saint standing at the door of the
monastery of the Franciscans. He had now, as we have already seen,
become the favorite instrument in effecting abjurations similar to his own.
His suggestions prevailed over Pauvan's convictions.[191] The young scholar
consented to obey the Sorbonne's demand. The faculty's judgment had been
pronounced on the ninth of December, 1525; a fortnight later, on the
morrow of Christmas day—a favorite time for striking displays of this kind
—Pauvan publicly retracted his "errors," and made the usual "amende
honorable," clad only in a shirt, and holding a lighted taper in his hand.[192]
If Pauvan's submission secured him any peace, it was a
short-lived peace. Tortured by conscience, he soon He is burned on the
betrayed his mental anguish by sighs and groans. Again Place de Grève.
he was drawn from the prison, where he had been confined since his
abjuration,[193] and subjected to new interrogatories. With the opportunity to
vindicate his convictions, his courage and cheerfulness returned. As a
relapsed heretic, no fate could be in store for him but death at the stake, and
this he courageously met on the Place de Grève.[194] But the holocaust was
inauspicious for those who with this victim hoped to annihilate the "new
doctrines." Before mounting the huge pyre heaped up to receive him,
Pauvan was thoughtlessly permitted to speak; and so persuasive were his
words that it was an enemy's exclamation that "it had been better to have
cost the church a million of gold, than that Pauvan had been suffered to
speak to the people."[195]
Scarcely more encouraging to the advocates of
persecution was the scene in the area in front of Notre- The hermit of
Dame de Paris, when, at the sound of the great cathedral Livry.
bell, an immense crowd was gathered to witness the execution of an
obscure person, known to us only as "the hermit of Livry"—a hamlet on the
road to Meaux. With such unshaken fortitude did he encounter the flames,
that the astonished spectators were confidently assured by their spiritual
advisers that he was one of the damned who was being led to the fires of
hell.[196]

Where less rigor was deemed necessary, the penalty for
having embraced the reformed tenets was reduced to Bishop Briçonnet
becomes the jailer
imprisonment for a term of years, often with bread and of the "Lutherans."
water for the only food and drink. The place of
confinement was sometimes a monastery, at other times the "prisons of
Monseigneur the Bishop of Meaux."[197] Thus Briçonnet enjoyed the rare
and exquisite privilege of acting as jailer of unfortunates instructed by
himself in the doctrines for the profession of which they now suffered!
Meantime their companions having escaped detection, although deprived of
the advantage of public worship, continued for years to assemble for mutual
encouragement and edification, as they had opportunity, in private houses,
in retired valleys or caverns, or in thickets and woods. Their minister was
that person of their own number who was seen to be the best versed in the
Holy Scriptures. After he had discharged his functions in the humble
service, by a simple address of instruction or exhortation, the entire
company with one voice supplicated the Almighty for His blessing, and
returned to their homes with fervent hopes for the speedy conversion of
France to the Gospel.[198] Thus matters stood for about a score of years,
until a fresh attempt was made to constitute a reformed church at Meaux,
the signal, as will appear in the sequel, for a fresh storm of persecution.
A few words here seem necessary respecting the
subsequent fortunes of the venerable teacher whose Lefèvre's
name at this point fades from the history of the French subsequent history.
Reformation. The action of parliament (August 28, 1525), in condemning,
at the instigation of the syndic of the theological faculty, nine propositions
extracted from his commentary on the Gospels, and in forbidding the
circulation of his translation of the Holy Scriptures, had given Lefèvre
d'Étaples due warning of danger. We have already seen that a few weeks
later (October, 1525) he had taken refuge in Strasbourg under the
pseudonym of Antonius Peregrinus. But the incognito of so distinguished a
stranger could not be long maintained, and before many days the very boys
in the streets knew him by his true name.[199] Meantime the Sorbonne, in
his absence, proceeded to censure a large number of propositions drawn
from another of Lefèvre's works. Shortly after a letter was received from
Francis the First, written in his captivity at Madrid, and enjoining the court
to suspend its vexatious persecution of a man "of such great and good

renown, and of so holy a life," until the king's return. The refractory judges,
however, neglected to obey the order, and continued the proceedings
instituted against Lefèvre.[200]
When, however, Francis succeeded in regaining his
liberty, a year later, he not only recalled Lefèvre and his Lefèvre and the
Nuncio Aleander.
companion, Roussel, from exile, but conferred upon the
former the honorable appointment of tutor to his two daughters and his third
and favorite son, subsequently known as Charles, Duke of Orleans.[201] This
post, while it enabled him to continue the prosecution of his biblical studies,
also gave him the opportunity of instilling into the minds of his pupils some
views favorable to the Reformation.[202] A little later Margaret of
Angoulême secured for Lefèvre the position of librarian of the royal
collection of books at Blois; but, as even here he was subjected to much
annoyance from his enemies, Margaret, now Queen of Navarre, sought and
obtained from her brother permission to take the old scholar with her to
Nérac, in Gascony.[203] Here, in the ordinary residence of his patron, and
treated by the King of Navarre with marked consideration, Lefèvre
d'Étaples was at last safe from molestation. The papal party did not, indeed,
despair of gaining him over. The Nuncio Aleander, in a singular letter
exhumed not long since from the Vatican records, expressed himself
strongly in favor of putting forth the effort. Lefèvre's "few errors" had at
first appeared to be of great moment, because published at a time when to
correct or change the most insignificant syllable, or a faulty rendering, in
the ancient translations of the Holy Scriptures approved by the church, was
an unheard-of innovation. But, now that more important questions had
come up to arrest attention, the mere matter of retranslation, without
introducing unsound doctrine, seemed to be a thing of little or no
consequence.[204] Let Lefèvre but leave the heretical company which he
kept, and let him make the least bit of a retraction respecting some few
passages in his works, and the whole affair would at once be arranged.[205]
The reconciliation of Lefèvre with the church did not
take place. The "bit of a retraction" was never written. Lefèvre's mental
suffering.
But none the less are Lefèvre's last days reported to have
been disturbed by harassing thoughts. The noble old man, who had
consecrated to the translation of the Bible and to exegetical comment upon

its books the energy of many years, and who had suffered no little obloquy
in consequence, could not forgive himself that he had not come forward
more manfully in defence of the truth. One day, not long before his death, it
is said, while seated at the table of the King and Queen of Navarre, he was
observed to be overcome with emotion. When Margaret expressed her
surprise at the gloomy deportment of one whose society she had sought for
her own diversion, Lefèvre mournfully exclaimed, "How can I contribute to
the pleasure of others, who am myself the greatest sinner upon earth?" In
reply to the questions called forth by so unexpected a confession, Lefèvre,
while admitting that throughout his long life his morals had been
exemplary, and that he was conscious of no flagrant crime against society,
proceeded, in words frequently interrupted by sobs, to explain his deep
penitence: "How shall I, who have taught others the purity of the Gospel, be
able to stand at God's tribunal? Thousands have suffered and died for the
defence of the truth in which I instructed them; and I, unfaithful shepherd
that I am, after attaining so advanced an age, when I ought to love nothing
less than I do life—nay, rather, when I ought to desire death—I have basely
avoided the martyr's crown, and have betrayed the cause of my God!" It
was with difficulty that the queen and others who were present succeeded in
allaying the aged scholar's grief.[206]
The "anguish of spirit and terror of God's judgment experienced by so pious
an old man as Lefèvre," because he had concealed the truth which he ought
openly to have espoused, supplied an instructive warning for his even more
timid disciples. Farel, who never lacked courage, was not slow to avail
himself of it. Taking advantage of the freedom of an old associate, he
addressed a letter containing an account of Lefèvre's death, with some
serious admonitions, to Michel d'Arande, who never venturing to separate
from a church whose corruptions he acknowledged, had reached the
position of Bishop of Saint Paul-Trois-Châteaux, in Dauphiny. The letter
has perished, but the reply in which the prelate's dejection and internal
conflicts but too plainly appear, has seen the light after a burial of three
centuries. Admitting the guilt of his course, the bishop begs the intrepid
reformer to pray for him continually, and meanwhile not to withhold his
friendly exhortations, that at length the writer may be able to extricate
himself from the deep mire in which he finds no firm foundation to stand
upon.[207]

Such was the unhappy state of mind to which many good, but irresolute
men were reduced, who, in view of the persecution certain to follow an
open avowal of their reformatory sentiments, endeavored to persuade
themselves that it was permissible to conceal them under a thin veil of
external conformity to the rites of the Roman church.
Gérard Roussel, the most distinguished representative of
this class of mystics, was appointed by the Queen of Fortunes of Gérard
Navarre to be her preacher and confessor, and promoted Roussel.
successively to be Abbot of Clairac and Bishop of Oléron. Yet he remained,
to his death, a sincere friend of the Reformation. Occasionally, at least, he
preached its doctrines with tolerable distinctness; as, for instance, in the
Lenten discourses delivered by him, in conjunction with Courault and
Bertault, before the French court in the Louvre (1532). In his writings he
was still more outspoken. Some of them might have been written not only
by a reformer, but by a disciple of Calvin, so sharply drawn were the
doctrinal expositions.[208] Meanwhile, in his own diocese he set forth the
example of a faithful pastor. Even so bitter an enemy of Protestantism as
Florimond de Ræmond, contrasting Roussel's piety with the worldliness of
the sporting French bishops of the period, is forced to admit that his pack of
hounds was the crowd of poor men and women whom he daily fed, his
horses and attendants a host of children whom he caused to be instructed in
letters.[209]
And yet, Gérard Roussel's half measures, while failing to conciliate the
adherents of the Roman church, alienated from him the sympathies of the
reformers; for they saw in his conduct a weakness little short of entire
apostasy. More modern Roman Catholic writers, for similar reasons, deny
that Roussel was ever at heart a friend of the Reformation.[210] Not so,
however, thought the fanatics of his own time. While the Bishop of Oléron
was one day declaiming, in a church of his diocese, against the excessive
multiplication of feasts, the pulpit in which he stood was suddenly
overturned, and the preacher hurled with violence to the ground. The
catastrophe was the premeditated act of a religious zealot, who had brought
with him into the sacred place an axe concealed under his cloak. The fall
proved fatal to Gérard Roussel, who is said to have expressed on his death-
bed similar regrets to those which had disturbed the last hours of Lefèvre

d'Étaples. As for the murderer, although arrested and tried by the Parliament
of Bordeaux, he was in the end acquitted, on the ground that he had
performed a meritorious act, or, at most, committed a venial offence, in
ridding the world of so dangerous a heretic as the Bishop of Oléron.[211]

CHAPTER III.
FRANCIS I. AND MARGARET OF ANGOULEME—EARLY
REFORMATORY MOVEMENTS AND STRUGGLES.

Francis the First and his sister, Margaret of Angoulême,
were destined to exercise so important an influence in Francis I. and his
sister.
shaping the history of the French Reformation during the
first half of the sixteenth century, that a glance at their
personal history and character seems indispensable. The king.
portrait of the

Francis Was in his twenty-first year when, by the
extinction of the elder line of the house of Orleans, the crown came to him
as the nearest heir of Louis the Twelfth.[212] He was tall, but well
proportioned, of a fair complexion, with a body capable of enduring without
difficulty great exposure and fatigue. In an extant portrait, taken five years
later, he is delineated with long hair and scanty beard. The drooping lids
give to his eyes a languid expression, while the length of his nose, which
earned him the sobriquet of "le roi au long nez," redeems his physiognomy
from any approach to heaviness.[213] On the other hand, the Venetian
Marino Cavalli, writing shortly before the close of his reign, eulogizes the
personal appearance of Francis, at that time more than fifty years old. His
mien was so right royal, we are assured, that even a foreigner, never having
seen him before, would single him out from any company and instinctively
exclaim, "This is the king!" No ruler of the day surpassed him in gravity
and nobility of bearing. Well did he deserve to succeed that long line of
monarchs upon each of whom the sacred oil, applied at his coronation in the
cathedral of Rheims, had conferred the marvellous property of healing the
king's-evil by a simple touch.[214]
At his accession, the lively imagination of Francis, fed
upon the romances of chivalry that constituted his His character and
tastes.
favorite reading, called up the picture of a brilliant
future, wherein gallant deeds in arms should place him among the most
renowned knights of Christendom. The ideal character he proposed for

himself involving a certain regard for his word, Francis's mind revolted
from imitating the plebeian duplicity of his wily predecessor, Louis the
Eleventh—a king who enjoyed the undesirable reputation of never having
made a promise which he intended in good faith to keep. The memory of
the disingenuous manner in which Louis, by winking at the opposition of
the Parliament of Paris, had suffered the revocation of the Pragmatic
Sanction to fail, in spite of his own solemn engagements to carry it into
execution, was, undoubtedly, one of the leading motives inducing the young
prince, at the very beginning of his reign, to adopt the arbitrary measures
already spoken of in a preceding chapter, respecting the papal concordat.
Not for half his kingdom, he repeatedly declared, would he break the pledge
he had given his Holiness. It is not difficult, however, to reconcile the
pertinacity of Francis, on this occasion, with the frequent and well
authenticated instances of bad faith in his dealings with other monarchs.
If his literary abilities were slender and his acquirements meagre, this king
had at least the faculty of appreciating excellence in others. The scholars
and wits whom, as we have seen, he succeeded in gathering about him,
repaid his munificence with lavish praise, couched in all manner of verse,
and in every language employed in the civilized world. Even later historians
have not hesitated to rate him much higher than his very moderate abilities
would seem to warrant.[215] The portrait drawn by the biographer of his
imperial rival is, perhaps, full as advantageous as a regard for truth will
permit us to accept. "Francis," says Robertson, "notwithstanding the many
errors conspicuous in his foreign policy and domestic administration, was
nevertheless humane, beneficent, generous. He possessed dignity without
pride, affability free from meanness, and courtesy exempt from deceit. All
who had access to him, and no man of merit was ever denied that privilege,
respected and loved him. Captivated with his personal qualities, his subjects
forgot his defects as a monarch, and, admiring him as the most
accomplished and amiable gentleman in his dominions, they hardly
murmured at acts of maladministration, which, in a prince of less engaging
dispositions, would have seemed unpardonable."[216]
Two monarchs could scarcely be more dissimilar than
were Francis and the Emperor Charles. "So great is the Contrast between
Francis I. and
difference between these two princes," says the Venetian Charles V.
Giustiniano, "that, as her most serene majesty the Queen

of Navarre, the king's sister, remarked to me when talking on the subject,
one of the two must needs be created anew by God after the pattern of the
other, before they could agree. For, whilst the most Christian king is
reluctant to assume the burden of great thoughts or undertakings, and
devotes himself much to the chase or to his own pleasures, the emperor
never thinks of anything but business and aggrandizement; and, whereas the
most Christian king is simple, open, and very liberal, and quite sufficiently
inclined to defer to the judgment and counsel of others, the emperor is
reserved, parsimonious, and obstinate in his opinions, governing by himself,
rather than through any one else."[217]
This diversity of temperament and disposition had ample scope for
manifestation during the protracted wars waged by the two monarchs with
each other. Fit representative of the race to which he belonged, Francis was
bold, adventurous, and almost resistless in the impetuosity of a first assault.
But he soon tired of his undertakings, and relinquished to the cooler and
more calculating Charles the solid fruits of victory.[218]
Of the possession of deep religious convictions I do not
know that Francis has left any satisfactory evidence. Francis's religious
convictions.
That he was not strongly attached to the Roman church,
that he thoroughly despised the ignorant monks, whose dissolute lives he
well knew, that he had no extraordinary esteem for the Pope, all this is clear
enough from many incidents of his life. It would even appear that, at one or
two points, he might have been pleased to witness such a reformation of the
church as could be effected without disturbing the existing order. To this he
was the more inclined, that he found almost all the men distinguished for
their learning arrayed on the side of the "new doctrines," as they were
styled, while the pretorian legion of the papacy was headed by the
opponents of letters.
It will be found, however, that several circumstances
tended to counteract or reverse the king's favorable His fear of
innovation.
prepossessions. Not least influential was a pernicious
sentiment studiously instilled in his mind by those whose material interests
were all on the side of the maintenance of the existing system—that a
change of religion necessarily involves a change of government. We shall
hear much during the century of this lying political axiom. When Francis, in

his irritation at the Pope, suggested, on one occasion, to the Nuncio, that he
might be compelled to follow the example Henry the Eighth, of England,
had set him, and permit the spread of the "Lutheran" religion in France, the
astute prelate replied: "Sire, to speak with all frankness, you would be the
first to repent your rash step. Your loss would be greater than the Pope's; for
a new religion established in the midst of a people involves nothing short of
a change of prince."[219] And the same author that records this incident tells
us that Francis hated the Lutheran "heresy," and used to say that this, like
every other new sect, tended more to the destruction of kingdoms than to
the edification of souls.[220] Nor must it be overlooked that Francis
doubtless felt strongly confirmed in his persuasion, by the rash and
disorderly acts of some restless and inconsiderate spirits such as are wont
eagerly to embrace any new belief. Not the peasants' insurrections in
Germany alone, but as well the excesses of the iconoclasts, and the
imprudence of the authors of the famous placards of 1534, although their
acts were distinctly repudiated by the vast majority of the French reformers,
inflicted irretrievable damage, by furnishing plausible arguments to those
who accused the Protestants of being authors or abettors of riot and
confusion.
A second reason of the early estrangement of Francis
from the "new doctrines" has more frequently been His loose morals.
overlooked. The rigid code of morals which the
reformers established, and which John Calvin attempted to make in Geneva
the law of the state, repelled a prince who, though twice married and both
times to women devoted to his interests and faithful to their vows, treated
his lawful wives with open neglect, and preferred to consort with perfidious
mistresses, who sold to the enemy for money his confidential disclosures—
a prince who, not satisfied with introducing excesses until then unheard of
among his nobles, was not ashamed to bestow the royal bounty upon the
professed head of the degraded women whom he allowed to accompany the
court from place to place.[221]
If to these two motives we add a third—the desire of the
king to avail himself of the important influence of the His anxiety to
obtain the support
Roman pontiff upon the politics of Europe—we shall be of the Pope.
at no loss to account for the singular fact that the brother

of Margaret of Angoulême, in spite of his sister's entreaties and the
promptings of his own better feeling—at times in defiance of his own
manifest advantage—became during the later part of his reign the first of
that long line of persecutors of whom the Huguenots were the unhappy
victims.
Margaret was two years older than her brother. Born
April 11, 1492, in the city of Angoulême, she enjoyed, in Studious disposition
common with Francis, all the opportunities of liberal of Margaret.
culture afforded by her exalted station. These opportunities her keener
intellect enabled her to improve far better than the future king. While
Francis was indulging his passion for the chase, in company with Robert de
la Marck, "the Boar of the Ardennes," Margaret was patiently applying
herself to study. It is not always easy to determine how much is to be set
down as truth, and how much belongs to the category of fiction, in the
current stories of the scholarly attainments of princely personages. But there
is good reason in the present case to believe that, unlike most of the ladies
of her age that were reputed prodigies of learning, Margaret of Angoulême
did not confine herself to the modern languages, but became proficient in
Latin, besides acquiring some notion of Greek and Hebrew. By extensive
reading, and through intercourse with the best living masters of the French
language, she made herself a graceful writer. She was, moreover, a poet of
no mean pretensions, as her verses, often comparing favorably with those of
Clément Marot, abundantly testify. It was, however, to the higher walks of
philosophical and religious thought that Margaret felt most strongly drawn.
Could implicit credit be given to the partial praises of her professed
eulogist, Charles de Sainte-Marthe, who owed his escape from the stake to
her powerful intercession, we might affirm that the contemplation of the
sublime truths of Revelation early influenced her entire character, and that
"the Spirit of God began then to manifest His presence in her eyes, her
expression, her walk, her conversation—in a word, in all her actions."[222]
But, whatever may have been the precocious virtues of
Margaret at the age of fifteen, it is certain that when, by Her personal
appearance.
her brother's elevation to the throne, she was introduced
to the foremost place at court, it was her remarkable qualities of heart, quite
as much as her recognized mental abilities, that called forth universal
admiration. Her personal appearance, it is true, was a favorite subject for

the encomium of poets; but her portraits fail to justify their panegyrics, and
convey no impression of beauty. The features are large, the nose as
conspicuously long as her brother's; yet the sweetness of expression, upon
which Marot is careful chiefly to dwell in one of his elegant poetical
epistles, is not less noticeable.[223]
In the conduct of public affairs Margaret took no
insignificant part. Francis was accustomed so uniformly Her political
Influence.
to entrust his mother and sister with important state
secrets, that to the powerful council thus firmly united by filial and fraternal
ties the term "Trinity" was applied, not only by the courtiers, but by the
royal family itself.[224] Foreign diplomatists extolled Margaret's intelligent
statesmanship, and asserted that she was consulted on every occasion.[225] It
is a substantial claim of Margaret to the respect of posterity, that the
influence thus enjoyed was, apparently, never prostituted to the
advancement of selfish ends, but constantly exerted in the interest of
learning, humanity, and religious liberty.
Margaret was first married, in 1509, to the Duke of Alençon, a prince whose
cowardice on the battle-field of Pavia (1525), where he commanded the
French left wing, is said to have been the principal cause of the defeat and
capture of his royal brother-in-law. He made good his own escape, only to
die, at Lyons, of disease induced by exposure and aggravated by bitter
mortification. The next two years were spent by Margaret in unremitting
efforts to secure her brother's release. With this object in view she obtained
from the emperor a safe-conduct enabling her to visit and console Francis in
his imprisonment at Madrid, and endeavor to settle with his captor the terms
of his ransom. But, while admiring her sisterly devotion, Charles showed
little disposition to yield to her solicitations. In fact, he even issued an order
to seize her person the moment the term of her safe-conduct should expire
—a peril avoided by the duchess only by forced marches. As it was, she
crossed the frontier, it is said, a single hour before the critical time. The
motive of this signal breach of imperial courtesy was, doubtless, the well-
founded belief that Margaret was bearing home to France a royal abdication
in favor of the Dauphin.[226]
Early in 1527, Margaret was married with great pomp to Henri d'Albret,
King of Navarre.[227] The match would seem to have been prompted by

love and admiration on her side; for the groom had
performed a romantic exploit in effecting his escape Margaret marries
Henry of Navarre.
from prison after his capture at Pavia.[228] In spite of the
great disparity between the ages of Margaret and her husband,[229] the union
was congenial, and added greatly to the power and resources of the latter.
The duchies of Alençon and Berry more than equalled in extent the actual
domain of the King of Navarre; for, from the time when Ferdinand the
Catholic (in July, 1512) wrested from brave Catharine of Foix and her
inefficient husband John[230] all their possessions on the southern slope of
the Pyrenees,[231] the authority of the titular monarch was respected only in
the mountainous district of which Pau was the capital, and to which the
names of Béarn or French Navarre are indifferently applied. The union thus
auspiciously begun lasted, unbroken by domestic contention, until the death
of Margaret, in 1549;[232] and the pompous ceremonial attending the
queen's obsequies is said to have been a sincere attestation of the universal
sorrow affecting the King of Navarre and his subjects alike.
It was through the instrumentality of the Bishop of
Meaux that Margaret of Angoulême was first drawn into She corresponds
with Bishop
sympathy with the reformatory movement. Unsatisfied Briçonnet.
with herself and with the influences surrounding her, she
sought in Briçonnet a spiritual adviser and guide. The prelate, in the
abstruse and almost unintelligible language of exaggerated mysticism,
endeavored to fulfil the trust. His prolix correspondence still exists in
manuscript in the National Library of Paris, together with the replies of his
royal penitent. Its incomprehensibility may perhaps forever preclude the
publication of the greater part;[233] but we can readily forgive the bishop's
absurdities and far-fetched conceits, when we find him in his letters leading
Margaret to the Holy Scriptures as the only source of spiritual strength, and
enjoining a humble and docile reception of its teachings.
On the fifteenth of April, 1521, the University of Paris,
whose opinion respecting Luther's tenets the entire Luther's teachings
condemned by the
Christian world had for two years been anxiously Sorbonne.
expecting, pronounced its solemn decision. It
condemned the writings of the German monk to the flames, on the ground
that they were seductive, insulting to the hierarchy, contrary to Scripture,

and schismatic. It likened his latest production, De Captivitate Babylonica,
to Alcoran. It branded as preposterous the notion that God had reserved the
discovery of what is needful to the salvation of the faithful for Martin
Luther to make; as though Christ had left his spouse, the Church, so many
centuries, and until now, in the darkness and blindness of error. Such
sentiments as he uttered were a denial of the first principles of the faith, an
unblushing profession of impiety, an arrogance so impious that it must be
repressed by chains and censures—nay, by fire and by flame, rather than
refuted by argument.[234] A long list of heretical propositions selected from
Luther's works was appended.[235]
In the month of June following, Melanchthon replied to
the Sorbonne's condemnation. He declared that, could Melanchthon's
defence.
the great Gerson and his illustrious associates and
predecessors rise from the dead, they would fail to recognize in the present
race of theologians their legitimate offspring, and that they would deplore
the misfortune of the university as well as of the whole of Christendom, in
that sophists had usurped the place of theologians, and slanderers the seat of
Christian doctors. As for the silly letter prefixed to the decree, the reformer
wrote, it is a feeble production full of womanish fury: "He pretends to the
sole possession of wisdom. He contemns us. He is a Manichæan, a
Montanist; he is mad. Let him be compelled by fire and flame." Who could
refrain from derisive laughter at the unmanly and truly monkish weakness
of such threats?[236]
In the summer of 1523 the king, in order to provide for
the government of France during his expected absence Regency of Louise
de Savoie.
from the capital, appointed his mother temporary regent
—a dignity which Louise de Savoie enjoyed more than once during
Francis's reign. The chancellor, Antoine Duprat, embraced the opportunity
to persuade the queen mother that she could not better atone for the
irregularities of her own life than by enforcing submission to the authority
of the papal church. What causes had contributed to the very radical change
apparently effected in her mental attitude to the established ecclesiastical
system, since she had in the preceding December discovered the monks, of
whatever color their cowl might be, to be arrant "hypocrites" and the most
"dangerous generation of human kind"—if, indeed, any such change in her

mental attitude had really taken place at all, and her present zeal was not
altogether assumed from political motives—we have not the means of
determining with certainty. However this may be, she was now induced to
take a much more decided stand than Francis had ever taken in opposition
to the reformed doctrines, of whose spread, not only in Meaux and other
cities in the provinces, but even in Paris, both in the schools of learning and
without, there began to be symptoms alarming to the hierarchy.
As a preliminary step, the regent sent her confessor,
Friar Gilbert Nicolai, to the Sorbonne, with instructions The Sorbonne's
recommendations
to consult it respecting "the means to be employed for for the extirpation
purging this very Christian realm of the damnable of heresy.
doctrine of Luther." It need scarcely be said that the
message was received with great delight. The theological doctors soon
replied, rendering thanks to Almighty God for having inspired Louise with
the holy purpose of executing whatever might be found most likely to
promote God's honor and the prosperity of France.[237] What measures did
they propose to her as best calculated to accomplish this laudable end?
Sermons, disputations, books, and other scholastic means, they write, may
be employed in the refutation of the errors of Luther, as indeed they are
every day employed, at the Sorbonne's instigation, and from this
instrumentality some good effects may be expected; but since, after all,
neither sermons nor books, however learned and conclusive, compel any
person to renounce his heretical views, more practical and coercive
measures must be adopted if the object is to be attained. All royal officers
must be enjoined strictly to enforce every order promulgated against
heretics. The prelates must be urged to demand, on pain of
excommunication, the surrender of all books of Luther or his supporters
found in their dioceses. Meanwhile, the highest ecclesiastical censures are
to be directed against those who in any way uphold the heterodox belief. It
is only in this way that hope can reasonably be entertained of suppressing
this pernicious innovation, which may yet inflict still greater evils upon
unfortunate France; since the Scriptures tell us that pestilence, famine, and
war served as a rod for the punishment of God's chosen nation of old,
whenever it forsook the pure precepts of the law given by the Almighty.
In reply to another inquiry made by the regent at the same time, the
Sorbonne enters into greater detail. If any one complains that he is unjustly

accused of favoring the heresy that has recently appeared, let him clear
himself by following St. Paul's example, who, when brought to the
knowledge of the truth, instantly undertook the defence of what he had
ignorantly persecuted. Rumors that some persons in high places are friendly
to the spread of the new errors have gained lamentable currency, both at
home and abroad. They have obtained confirmation from the praise lately
lavished by "some great personages" upon the doctrine of Luther, and the
blame poured upon its opponents. The execution of the king's order for the
burning of Luther's books has been singularly delayed. Worst of all have
been the obstacles placed in the way of the pious efforts of the prelates,
either without the consent of the king, or by him ill-advised—for example,
in the proceedings of the Bishop of Paris against Louis de Berquin. Similar
impediments have been interposed to prevent the condemnation by
parliament and university of the printed works of this same Berquin and of
Lefèvre d'Étaples; while, as if to make the affair still more scandalous, two
treatises lately written in refutation of Luther's doctrines have been seized in
the name of the king and by his authority.[238]
Such were the complaints of the theological faculty,
such the means suggested for the destruction of the new Wide circulation of
Luther's works.
leaven that was already beginning to assert its mission to
permeate society. There were certainly sufficient grounds for apprehension.
The works of Luther, as we have before seen, had early been translated into
French, and a contemporary writer confirms the statement that they had
already been widely disseminated.[239] An order of parliament, referred to in
its communication to the regent, had indeed been published, to the sound of
the trumpet, throughout the city of Paris (August 3, 1521), strictly
commanding all booksellers, printers, and others that might have copies in
their possession, to give them up within the space of eight days, on pain of
imprisonment and fine.[240] But even this measure failed to accomplish the
desired result. The Reformation was silently extending its influence, as
some significant events sufficiently proved.
At Avignon, copies of several of the writings of Martin
Luther fell into the hands of François Lambert, son of a Lambert, the first
French monk to
former private secretary of the papal legate entrusted embrace the
with the government of the Comtât Venaissin. He was a Reformation.

man of vivid imagination, keen religious sensibilities, and marked oratorical
powers. He had at the age of fifteen been so deeply impressed by the saintly
appearance of the Franciscans as to seek admission to their monastery as a
novice. No sooner did he assume, a year later (1503), the irrevocable vows
that constituted him a monk, than his disenchantment began. According to
his own account, the quarrelsome and debauched friars no longer felt any of
the solicitude they had previously entertained lest the knowledge of their
excesses should deter him from embracing a "religious" life. A few years
later Lambert became a preacher, and having, through a somewhat careful
study of the Holy Scriptures, embraced more evangelical views than were
held by most of his order, began to deliver discourses as well received by
the people as they were hated by his fellow-monks. Great was the outcry
against him when he openly denounced the misdeeds of a worthless vender
of papal indulgences; still greater when copies of Luther's treatises were
found in his possession. The books were seized, sealed, condemned, and
burned, although scarcely a glance had been vouchsafed at their contents. It
was enough for the monkish judges to cry: "They are heretical! They are
heretical!" "Nevertheless," exclaims honest Lambert, kindling with
indignation at the remembrance of the scene, "I confidently assert that those
same books of Luther contain more of pure theology than all the writings of
all the monks that have lived since the creation of the world."[241]
Lambert had made full trial of the monastic life. He had
even immured himself for some time in a Carthusian He is also the first
to renounce
retreat, but found its inmates in no respect superior to celibacy.
the Franciscans. At last an opportunity for escape
offered. In 1522, when a score of years had passed since he entered upon
his novitiate, he was despatched with letters to the general of his order.
Instead of fulfilling his commission, he traversed Switzerland, and made his
way to Wittemberg, where he satisfied the desire he had long entertained, of
meeting the great reformer to whose works he owed his own spiritual
enlightenment. Full of zeal for the propagation of the doctrines he had
embraced, Lambert, not long after (1524), established himself at Metz as a
favorable point from which France might be influenced. But the commotion
excited by his opponents—perhaps, also, his own lack of prudence—
compelled him within a fortnight to flee to Strasbourg.[242] Here, more
secure, but scarcely more judicious, he busied himself with sending over the

French borders numbers of tracts composed or translated by himself, and
addressing to Francis and the chief persons of his court appeals which,
doubtless, rarely if ever reached their eyes.[243] In another field of labor, to
which the Landgrave of Hesse called him, François Lambert performed
services far more important than any he was permitted to render his native
land. As the first French monk to throw aside his habit—above all, as the
first to renounce celibacy and defend in a published treatise the step he had
taken (1523), no French reformer, even among those of far greater abilities
and wider influence, was regarded by the adherents of the Roman Catholic
Church with so intense a dislike.[244]
The firm hold which the Reformation was gaining on the population of
several places of great importance, close upon the eastern frontiers of the
kingdom, was a portent of evil in the eyes of the Sorbonne; for Metz, St.
Hippolyte, and Montbéliard, all destined to be absorbed in the growing
territories of France, were already bound to it by close ties of commercial
intercourse.
In Metz the powerful appeals of an Augustinian monk,
Jean Châtellain, had powerfully moved the masses. He Jean Châtellain, of
Metz.
was as eloquent as he was learned, as commanding in
appearance as fearless in the expression of his belief.[245] The attempt to
molest him would have proved a very dangerous one for the clergy of Metz
to make; for the enthusiasm of the laity in his support knew no bounds, and
the churchmen prudently avoided giving it an occasion for manifestation.
But, no sooner had Châtellain been induced on some pretext to leave the
safe protection of the walls, than a friar of his own order and monastery
betrayed him to the bishop.[246] He was hurriedly taken to Nommeny, and
thence to Vic for trial and execution. In vain did the Inquisitor of the Faith
strive to shake his constancy. His judges were forced to liken their
incorrigible prisoner to the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear. As "a preacher
of false doctrines," an "apostate" and a "liar toward God Almighty," they
declared him excommunicated and deprived of whatever ecclesiastical
benefices he might hold. The faithful compiler of the French martyrology
gives in accurate, but painful, detail the successive steps by which
Châtellain was stripped of the various prerogatives conferred upon him in
ordination. I shall not repeat the story of sacred vessels placed in his hands

only to be hastily snatched from them, of the scraping of his fingers
supposed to remove the grace of consecration, of chasuble and stole
indignantly taken away—in short, of all the petty devices of a malice at
which the mind wearies and the heart sickens. It was perhaps a fitting
sequel to the ceremony that the degrading bishop should hand his victim
over to the representative of the secular arm to be put to death, with a
hypocritical recommendation to mercy: "Lord Judge, we entreat you as
affectionately as we can, as well by the love of God, as from pity and
compassion, and out of respect for our prayers, that you do this wretched
man no injury tending to death or the mutilation of his body."[247] The
prayer was granted—according to the intent of the petitioner. On the twelfth
of January, 1525, Châtellain was led to the place of execution, as cheerful in
demeanor, the witnesses said, as if walking to a feast. At the stake he knelt
and offered a short prayer, then met his horrible sentence with a constancy
that won many converts to the faith for which he had suffered. At the news
of the fate of their admired teacher, the citizens of Metz could not contain
their rage. A tumultuous scene ensued, in which it was well that the
ecclesiastics—there were more than nine hundred within the walls[248]—
escaped with no greater injury at the hands of the angry populace than some
passing insults. John Vedast, an evangelical teacher, was at that time in
confinement, reserved for a similar doom to that of Châtellain. He was
liberated by the people, who, in a body membering several thousand men,
visited his prison and enabled him to escape to a safe refuge. It was not
until a strong detachment of troops had been thrown into the city that the
burgesses were reduced to submission.[249] "None the less," admits a
Roman Catholic historian, "did Lutheranism spread over the entire district
of Metz."[250]
At St. Hippolyte, a town near the Swiss frontier,
dependent upon the Duke of Lorraine, similar success Tragic end of
Wolfgang Schuch.
and a similarly tragic end were the results of the zealous
labors of Wolfgang Schuch, a priest of German extraction. The "good duke"
Antoine, having been led to confound the peaceable disciples of Schuch
with the revolted peasants, whose ravages had excited widespread alarm
throughout Germany, publicly proclaimed his intention of visiting the town
that harbored them with fire and sword. To propitiate him by removing his
misapprehension, Schuch wrote to the duke a singularly touching letter

containing a candid exposition of the religion he professed;[251] but finding
that his missive had been of no avail, he resolved to immolate himself in
behalf of his flock. At Nancy, the capital of the duchy, whither he had gone
to dissuade Antoine from executing his savage threats, he was thrown into a
loathsome dungeon, while the University of Paris was consulted respecting
the soundness of thirty-one propositions extracted from his writings by the
Inquisitor of Lorraine. On the nineteenth of August, 1525—the theologians
of the Sorbonne having some months before reported unfavorably upon the
theses submitted to them—Wolfgang Schuch was consigned to the flames.
[252]

Less sanguinary results attended the Reformation at
Montbéliard, where the indefatigable Farel was the chief Farel at
actor. One of those highly dramatic incidents, in which Montbéliard.
the checkered life of this remarkable man abounds, is said to have preceded
his withdrawal from the city. Happening, on St. Anthony's day, to meet,
upon a bridge spanning a narrow stream in the neighborhood, a solemn
procession headed by priests chanting the praises of the saint whose effigy
they bore aloft, Farel was seized with an uncontrollable desire to arrest the
impious service. Snatching the image from the hands of ecclesiastics who
were little prepared for so sudden an onslaught, he indignantly cried,
"Wretched idolaters, will you never forsake your idolatry?" At the same
instant he threw the saint into the water, before the astonished devotees had
time to interfere. Had not some one just then opportunely raised the shout,
"The saint is drowning," it might have gone hard with the fearless
iconoclast.[253]
The Reformation was thus gaining a foothold in the bishopric of Metz, in
the duchy of Lorraine, and the county of Montbéliard—districts as yet
independent of France, in which country they were subsequently merged.
But, if suffered to be victorious at these important points, it might readily
cross the borders and spread with irresistible force to the contiguous parts
of Francis's dominions. Nearer home, the reformatory movement at Meaux,
though abandoned by the bishop who had fostered its first development,
was not wholly suppressed. In Lyons and Grenoble, Friar Aimé Maigret had
preached such evangelical sermons—in French to the people and in Latin to
the Parliament of Dauphiny—that he had been sent to Paris to be examined

by the Sorbonne. The primate and his council had seen with solicitude that
from the ashes of Waldo and the Poor Men of Lyons "very many new shoots
were springing up,"[254] and called for some signal act of severity to repress
the growing evil.
In Paris itself the Sorbonne found reason for alarm. The
sympathy of Margaret of Angoulême with the friends of Pierre Caroli
lectures on the
progress was recognized. It had already availed for the Psalms.
deliverance of Louis de Berquin, whose remarkable
history will find a place in the next chapter. Nor did the redoubted syndic of
the theological faculty, Beda, or Bédier, reign without a rival in the
academic halls. Pierre Caroli, one of the doctors invited by Briçonnet to
Meaux, a clever wrangler, and never better pleased than when involved in
controversy, albeit a man of shallow religious convictions and signal
instability, wearied out by his counter-plots the illustrious heresy-hunter.
When forbidden to preach, Caroli opened a course of lectures upon the
Psalms in the Collége de Cambray. Having then been interdicted from
continuing his prelections, he made the modest request to be permitted to
finish the exposition of the 22d Psalm, which he had begun. This being
refused, the disputatious doctor posted the following notice on the doors of
the college: "Pierre Caroli, wishing to conform to the orders of the sacred
faculty, ceases to teach. He will resume his lectures (when it shall please
God) where he left off, at the verse, 'They pierced my hands and my feet.'"
[255]

I have reserved for this place a few remarks
respecting the Heptameron of Margaret of The Heptameron
of the Queen of
Angoulême, which seem required by the Navarre.
disputed character or this singular work. I have
spoken at length of the virtues of the Queen of Navarre, and I
may here add a statement of my strong conviction that the
accusation is altogether groundless which ascribes a sinister
meaning to the strong expressions of sisterly affection so
frequent in her correspondence with Francis the First (see M.
Génin, Supplément a la notice sur Marg. d'Angoulême, prefixed

to the second volume of the Letters). Nor do I make any account
of the vague statement of that mendacious libertine, Brantôme,
who doubtless imagined himself to be paying the Queen of
Navarre the most delicate compliment, when he said, that "of
gallantry she knew more than her daily bread."
But, whatever the purity of Margaret's own private life, the fact
which cannot be overlooked is that a book of a decidedly
immoral tendency was composed and published under her name.
Her most sincere admirers would hail with gratification any
satisfactory evidence that the Heptameron was written by
another hand. Unfortunately, there seems to be none. On the
contrary, we have Brantôme's direct testimony to the effect that
the composition of the book was the employment of the queen's
idle hours when travelling about in her litter, and that his
grandmother, being one of Margaret's ladies of honor, was
accustomed to take charge of her writing-case (Ed. Lalanne, viii.
126). Equally untenable is the view taken by the historian De
Thou (liv. vi., vol. x. 508), who makes the fault more venial by
representing the Heptameron to have been composed by the fair
author in her youth. (So, too, Soldan, i. 89.) I am sorry to have
to say that the events referred to in the stories themselves belong
to a period reaching within a year or two of Margaret's death.
The facts, then, are simply these: The tales of Boccaccio's
Decameron were read with great delight by Margaret, by Francis
the First, and by his children. They resolved, therefore, to
imitate the great Italian novelist by committing to writing the
most remarkable incidents supplied by the gossip of the court
(see the Prologue to the Heptameron). Francis and his children,
finding that Margaret greatly excelled in this species of
composition, soon renounced the unequal strife, but encouraged
her to pursue an undertaking promising to afford them much
amusement. Apportioning, after the example of Boccaccio, a
decade of stories, illustrative of some single topic, to each day's
entertainment, the Queen of Navarre had reached the seventh
day, when the death of her brother, the near approach of her own
end, and disgust with so frivolous an occupation, induced her to

suspend her labors. The Heptameron, as the interrupted work
was now called, was not apparently intended for publication, but
was, after Margaret's death, printed under the auspices of her
daughter, the celebrated Jeanne d'Albret.
As to the stories themselves, they treat of adventures, in great
part amorous and often immodest. In this particular they are
scarcely less objectionable than those of Boccaccio. They differ
from the latter in the circumstance that the author's avowed
purpose is to insert none but actual occurrences. They are
distinguished from them more especially by the attempt
uniformly made to extract a wholesome lesson from every
incident. The prevalent vices of the day are portrayed—with too
much minuteness of detail, indeed, but only that they may be
held up to the greater condemnation. It is particularly the monks
of various orders who, for their flagrant crimes against morality,
are made the object of biting sarcasm. The abominable teachings
of these professed instructors of religion are justly reprobated.
For example, in the Forty-fourth Nouvelle, Parlamente, while
admitting that some Franciscans preach a pure doctrine, affirms
that "the streets are not paved with such, so much as marked by
their opposites;" and she relates the attempt of one of their
prominent men, a doctor of theology, to convince some
members of his own fraternity that the Gospel is entitled to no
more credit than Cæsar's Commentaries. "From the hour I heard
him," she adds, "I have refused to believe the words of any
preacher unless I find them in agreement with God's Word,
which is the true touchstone to ascertain what words are true and
what false" (Ed. Soc. des bibliophiles, ii. 382-384).
Modern French littérateurs have not failed to eulogize the
author as frequently rivalling her model in dramatic vividness of
narration. At the same time they take exception to the numerous
passages wherein she "preaches," as detracting from the artistic
merit of her work. It is, however, precisely the feature here
referred to that constitutes, in the eyes of reflecting readers, the
chief, if not the sole, redeeming trait of the Heptameron. As a
favorable example, illustrating the nature of the pious words and

exhortations thrown in so incongruously with stories of the most
objectionable kind, I translate a few sentences from the
Prologue, in which Oisile (the pseudonym for Margaret herself)
speaks: "If you ask me what receipt I have that keeps me so
joyful and in such good health in my old age, it is this—that as
soon as I rise I take and read the Holy Scriptures. Contemplating
there the goodness of God, who sent His Son to earth to
announce the glad tidings of the remission of all sins by the gift
of His love, passion, and merits, the consideration causes me
such joy that I take my psalter and sing in my heart as humbly as
I can, while repeating with my lips those beautiful psalms and
hymns which the Holy Ghost composed in the heart of David
and other authors; and the satisfaction I derive from this does
me so much good that all the ills that may befall me through the
day appear to me to be blessings, seeing that I bear in my heart
Him who bore them for me. In like manner, before I sup, I
withdraw to give sustenance to my soul in reading, and then at
night I recall all I have done during the past day, in order to ask
for the pardon of my faults and thank God for His gifts. Then in
His love, fear and peace I take my rest, assured from every ill.
Wherefore, my children, here is the pastime upon which I settled
long since, after having in vain sought contentment of spirit in
all the rest.... For he that knows God sees everything beautiful in
Him, and without Him everything unattractive." Prologue, 13-
15.
If any one object that no quantity of pious reflections can
compensate for the positive evil in the Heptameron, I can but
acquiesce in his view, and concede that M. Génin has been much
too lenient in his estimate of Margaret's fault. It is a riddle which
I leave to the reader to solve, that a princess of unblemished
private life, of studious habits, and of not only a serious, but
even a positively religious turn of mind—in short, in every way
a noble pattern for one of the most corrupt courts Europe has
ever seen—should, in a work aiming to inculcate morality, and
abundantly furnished with direct religious exhortation, have

inserted, not one, but a score of the most repulsive pictures of
vice, drawn from the impure scandal of that court.

CHAPTER IV.
INCREASING SEVERITY.—LOUIS DE BERQUIN.

The year 1525 was critical as well in the religious as in
the political history of France. On the twenty-fourth of Captivity of Francis
I.
February, in consequence of the disaster at Pavia,
Francis fell into the hands of his rival—Charles, by hereditary descent King
of Spain, Naples, and Jerusalem, sovereign, under various titles, of the
Netherlands, and by election Emperor of Germany—a prince whose vast
possessions in both hemispheres made him at once the wealthiest and most
powerful of living monarchs. With his unfortunate captivity, all the fanciful
schemes of conquest entertained by the French king fell to the ground. But
France felt the blow not less keenly than the monarch. One of the most
gallant armies that ever crossed the Alps had been lost. The kingdom was
by no means invulnerable, for the capital itself might easily reward a well-
executed invasion from the side of Flanders. The recuperative energies of
the country could be put forth to little advantage, so long as the place of the
king—fons omnis jurisdictionis, as the French legists styled him—was
filled by a woman in the capacity of regent. France bade fair to exhibit to
the world the inherent weakness of a despotism wherein all power, in fact as
well as in theory, centres ultimately in the single person of the supreme
ruler as autocrat. For it was his standing boast that he was "emperor" in his
own realm, holding it of none other than God, and responsible to God
alone, and that as king and emperor he had the exclusive right to make
ordinances from which no subject could appeal without rendering himself
liable to the penalties pronounced upon traitors.[256] Now that the head was
taken away, who could answer for the harmonious action of the body which
had been wont to depend upon him alone for direction?
Louise de Savoie, to whom the direction of affairs had
been confided during her son's absence in Italy, had, for Change in the
religious policy of
greater convenience, transferred the court temporarily to Louise de Savoie.
the city of Lyons, where, under the protection of

Margaret of Angoulême, the most evangelical preachers of France had been
allowed to proclaim the tenets of the reformers within the churches and in
the hearing of thousands of eager listeners. The queen mother had not yet
ventured decidedly to depart from the tolerant system hitherto pursued by
the crown.[257] But the announcement of the capture of Francis effected a
complete revolution in her policy. There is no inherent improbability in the
story that Chancellor Duprat—the statesman and ecclesiastic who had
gained so strong an ascendancy over the mind of Louise that he was shortly
promoted to the Archbishopric of Sens and rewarded with the rich abbey of
Saint Bénoit-sur-Loire—insinuated to the queen mother that the misfortunes
befalling France were tokens of the Divine displeasure. Had Francis spared
no exertions to destroy the first germs of the heresy so insidiously
introduced into his kingdom, he would not now, said the churchman, be
languishing in the dungeons of Milan or Madrid. Nor could hopes be
entertained of his deliverance, and of a return of Heaven's favor, unless the
queen mother bestirred herself to retrieve his mistake by the introduction of
new measures to crush heresy. Thus is the chancellor said to have argued,
and to have earned the cardinal's hat at the Pope's hands. However this may
be, it is certain that motives of policy were no less influential than the pious
considerations which, perhaps, might have carried full as much conviction
had they come from the lips of a more exemplary prelate.[258] The regent
was certainly not ignorant of the fact that the support of Clement the
Seventh, now specially needed in the delicate diplomacy lying immediately
before her, could best be secured by proving to the pontiff's satisfaction that
the house of Valois was clear of all suspicion of harboring or fostering the
"Lutheran" doctrines and their adherents.
The ordinary appliances for the suppression of heresy—a duty entrusted by
canon law, so far as the preliminary search and the trial of the suspected
was concerned, to the bishops and their courts—had confessedly proved
inadequate. The prelates were in great part non-residents, and could not
from a distance narrowly watch the progress of the objectionable tenets in
their dioceses. One or two of their number were accused of culpable
sluggishness, if not of indifference or something worse. The question
naturally arose, What new and more effective procedure could be devised?
After mature deliberation, the privy council resolved upon a plan which was
virtually to remove the cognizance of crimes against religion from the

clergy, and commit it to a mixed commission. The
Parliament of Paris was accordingly notified that the A commission
bishop of that city stood ready to delegate his authority appointed to try
"Lutherans."
to conduct the trial of all heretics found within his
jurisdiction to such persons as parliament might select for the discharge of
this important function; and the latter body proceeded at once to designate
two of its own members to act in conjunction with two doctors of the
Sorbonne, and receive the faculties promised by the Bishop of Paris.[259] A
few days later (March 29, 1525), in making a necessary substitution for one
of the members who was unable to serve, parliament not only empowered
the commission thus constituted to try the "Lutheran" prisoners, Pauvan and
Saulnier, but directed the Archbishops of Lyons and Rheims, and the
bishops or chapters of eight of the remaining most important dioceses, to
confer upon it similar authority to that already received at the hands of the
bishop of the metropolis.[260]
It was, however, no ordinary tribunal which the highest
civil court of the kingdom was erecting. The The commission a
commission was in effect nothing less than a new phase new form of
inquisition.
of the Inquisition, embodying many of the most
obnoxious features of that detested tribunal. It is true
The inquisition
that the "Holy Office," in a modified form, had existed hitherto jealously
in France ever since the persecutions directed against the watched.
Albigenses and the bloody campaigns of Simon de
Montfort. But the seat of the solitary Inquisitor of the Faith was Toulouse,
not Paris, and his powers had been jealously circumscribed by the courts of
justice and the diocesan prelates, both equally interested in rearing barriers
to prevent his incursions into their respective jurisdictions. The Inquisitor of
Toulouse was now only a spy and informer.[261] Parliament, in particular,
had clearly enunciated the principle that neither inquisitor nor bishop had
the right to arrest a suspected heretic, inasmuch as bodily seizure was the
exclusive prerogative of the officers of the crown. The judges of this
supreme court had summoned to their bar a bishop, and his "official," or
vicar, and had exacted from them an explicit disavowal of any intention to
arrest, in the case of a person whom they had merely detained, as they
asserted, until such time as they could deliver him into the hands of a
competent civil officer.[262] And it had become a maxim of French

jurisprudence, that "an inquisitor of the faith has no power of capture or
arrest, save with the assistance, and by authority, of the secular arm."[263]
But the Parliament of Paris, at the instigation of the
regent's advisers, and with the consent of the bishops, Parliament breaks
down the
was breaking down these important safeguards of safeguards of
personal liberty. It not only accorded to the mixed personal liberty.
inquisitorial commission, consisting of two lay and two
clerical members, the authority to apprehend persons suspected of heresy,
but removed the proceedings of the commission almost entirely from
review and correction. A pretext for this extraordinary course was found in
the delays heretofore experienced from the interposition of technical
difficulties. "The commissioners," said parliament, "by virtue of the
authority delegated to them, shall secretly institute inquiries against the
Lutherans, and shall proceed against them by personal summons, by bodily
arrest, by seizure of goods, and by other penalties. Their decisions shall be
executed in spite of any and every opposition and appeal, save in case of the
final sentence."[264] While conferring such extravagant privileges,
parliament took pains to prescribe that the decisions of the commission
should be executed precisely as if they had emanated from the supreme
court itself. Such were the lengths to which the most conservative judges
were willing to go, in the hope of speedily eradicating the reformed
doctrines from French soil.
The regent and her master-spirit, the chancellor, did not
rest here. The commission was not irrevocable; and its The commission
authority might be disputed. The work of parliament endorsed by
Clement VII.
must receive the papal sanction. For this Clement the
Seventh did not keep them long waiting. He addressed to parliament (May
20, 1525) a brief conceived in a vein of fulsome eulogy, expressing his
marvellous commendation of their acts—acts which he declared to be
worthy of the reputation for wisdom in which the French tribunal was justly
held. And he incited the judges to fresh zeal by the consideration that the
new madness that had fallen upon the world was prepared to confound and
overturn, not religion alone, but all rule, nobility, pre-eminence and
superiority—nay, all law and order. The reader, it may be feared, will tire of
the frequency with which the same trite suggestions recur. It is, however,
not a little important to emphasize the argument which the Roman Curia,

and its emissaries at the courts of kings, were never weary of reiterating in
the ears of the rich and powerful. And as they seized with avidity every
slight incident of disorder that could by any means be associated with the
great religious movement now in progress, and presented it as corroboratory
proof of the charge preferred against the "Lutherans," it is not surprising
that they were generally successful in their appeal to the fears of a class
which had so much at stake.
In addition to his endorsement of their pious zeal, Clement's brief informed
the judges of parliament that they would find in the accompanying bull his
formal confirmation of the inquisitorial commission.[265]
This "letter with the leaden seal," dated the seventeenth of May, might well
have opened the eyes of less devoted subjects of the Roman See to the
injury they were inflicting upon the French liberties, heretofore so cherished
an object of judicial solicitude. Addressing itself to the four commissioners
named by parliament, the bull recited the lamentable progress of the
doctrines of that "son of iniquity and heresiarch, Martin Luther," and
praised the ardor displayed to stay their dissemination in France. It next
declared that the Pope, by the advice and with the unanimous consent of the
cardinals, instructed the commissioners to proceed either singly or
collectively against those persons who had embraced heretical views,
"simply and quietly, without noise or form of judgment." He empowered
them to act independently of the prelates of the kingdom and the Inquisitor
of the Faith, or to call in their assistance, as they should see fit. They might
summon witnesses, under pain of ecclesiastical censures. They might make
investigations against and put on trial all those infected with heresy, even
should the guilty be bishops or archbishops in the church, or be clothed
with the ducal authority in the state. When convicted, such persons were to
be punished by arrest and imprisonment, or cut off, "like rotten members,
from the communion of the church, and consigned to eternal damnation
with Satan and his angels." The commissioners were further authorized to
grant permission to any one of the faithful who chose so to do to invade,
occupy, and acquire for himself the lands, castles, and goods of the heretics,
seizing their persons and leading them away into life-long slavery. From
the sentence of the commissioners all appeal, even to the "Apostolic See"
itself, was expressly cut off.[266]

Rome had made one of its most brilliant strokes. While
adopting as his own the commissioners appointed by Its powers enlarged
by the papal bull.
parliament, Clement had enlarged their already
exorbitant prerogatives, and consummated their independence of secular
interference. A new and more efficient inquisition was thus introduced into
France, with its secret investigation and unlimited power of inflicting
punishment. The Parliament of Paris had, however, committed itself too
fully to think of demurring. Accordingly, it proceeded (June 10th) to enter
on its records both the regent's letter and the bull of the Pope, to which the
letter enjoined obedience.[267]
We have in a previous chapter seen some of the first fruits of the
establishment of the inquisitorial commission, in the proceedings instituted
against Lefèvre d'Étaples, Gérard Roussel, and others who took part in the
attempted reformation of the diocese of Meaux. But, chief among those
whom it was sought to destroy, through the agency of the new and well-
furbished weapon against heretics, was a nobleman of Artois, whose
repeated and remarkable escapes from the hand of the executioner, viewed
in connection with the tragic fate that at last overtook him, invest his story
with a romantic interest.
Louis de Berquin was a man of high rank, whom friends
and enemies alike admired for his uncommon acuteness Character of Louis
de Berquin.
of mind and his great attainments in letters and science.
A contemporary Parisian, whose diary has supplied us
more than one of those graphic traits that assist much in He becomes a warm
partisan of the
bringing before our eyes the living forms of the great Reformation.
actors in the world's past history, seems to have been
strongly impressed by the commanding appearance and elegance of dress of
De Berquin, at this time in the very prime of life.[268] But the great
Erasmus, his correspondent, stood in far greater admiration of his
extraordinary learning, his purity of life—a rare excellence in a nobleman
of the court of Francis the First—his kindness and freedom from all
ostentation, his uncompromising hatred of every form of meanness and
injustice,[269] and a fearless courage which, in the eyes of the timid sage of
Rotterdam, appeared to fall little short of foolhardiness. Like most of the
really earnest reformers, De Berquin was originally a very strict observer of

the ordinances of the church, and was unsurpassed in attention to fasts,
feast-days, and the mass. It was indignation and contempt for the petty
persecution inaugurated by Beda and his associates of the Sorbonne that
first led him to examine the tenets of Lefèvre. From Lefèvre's works he
naturally passed to those of the German reformers. His curiosity turning to
admiration, he began to translate and annotate the most striking treatises
that fell into his hands. Not content with this, he set himself to writing
books on the same topics, and incidentally depicted in no flattering colors
the intolerance and ignorance of the Paris theologians. As he made no
attempt at concealment, his activity was soon known.
In the spring of 1523, De Berquin's house was visited,
his books and papers were seized, and an inventory was His first
imprisonment.
made. Beda was the leader of the authorities in the
whole affair. Parliament ordered the books and manuscripts to be examined
and reported upon by the theological faculty. What the report would be, it
was not hard to surmise. When such works were found in De Berquin's
possession as that entitled "Speculum Theologastrorum," and another
giving Luther's reasons for maintaining the universal priesthood of
Christian believers; when the notes in De Berquin's own handwriting
condemned as blasphemous, and as derogatory to the power of the Holy
Ghost, the ascription of praise to the Virgin Mary as the "fountain of all
grace"—but one answer could be expected to the requisition of parliament.
The books and manuscripts were pronounced heretical; their author was
commanded to retract. This De Berquin refused to do, and he was,
consequently, shut up in the conciergerie—the civil prison within the walls
of the ancient palace in which parliament sat. Four days later he was
transferred to the dungeons of the Bishop of Paris, to be judged by him with
the aid of two counsellors of parliament and of such theologians as he
should see fit to call in.[270]

The case was fast becoming serious. De Berquin was
made of sterner stuff than the weaklings who recant He is released by
through fear of the stake; and the syndic of Sorbonne order of the king.
was fully resolved to have him burned if he remained constant. Happily,
just at this critical moment the king interfered. From Melun, which he had
reached on his way toward the south of France, he despatched an officer—
one "Captain Frederick," as his name appears in the records—to demand the
release of De Berquin, whose trial he had evoked for the consideration of
his own royal council. Parliament attempted to interpose technical
difficulties, and responded that the prisoner was no longer in its keeping.
But "Captain Frederick" was provided against any quibbling. As his
instructions were to break open whatever prison-doors might be barred
against him, it was not long before the expected prey of the theologians was
given into his custody. In the end De Berquin was set at liberty, such an
examination of his case having been made by the king's council as courtiers
are wont to institute when the accused is the favorite of the monarch.[271]
It was about this time that Erasmus first made the
acquaintance of Louis de Berquin. The Artesian Advice of Erasmus.
nobleman took occasion to write to the great Dutch
humanist, of whom he stood in great admiration, to inform him of the
position assumed in reference to the writings of the latter by Beda and Du
Chesne. Erasmus tells us that he was delighted with his new correspondent.
But the constitutional timidity of the scholar compelled him to answer De
Berquin by words of caution rather than of encouragement: "If you are
wise, repress your encomiums; do not disturb the hornets, and spend your
time in your favorite studies. At all events, do not involve me; for the
consequences might be inconvenient for us both." But the dictates of
worldly wisdom had no influence over De Berquin. Presently Erasmus was
vexed to find that De Berquin in his writings was appealing to his friend's
authority, and quoting the sentiments of the latter in defence of his own
opinions. Now thoroughly alarmed at De Berquin's imprudence, Erasmus
remonstrated, plainly intimating that whatever delight others might derive
from conflicts such as he saw approaching, nothing was less grateful to
himself.

Meantime Louis de Berquin had retired to his own
estates, in the expectation of pursuing his plans with less Berquin's second
danger of interference than in the capital. Even there, imprisonment.
however, he was not safe. The propitious moment for
striking a decisive blow seemed to his enemies to have Francis again orders
his release.
come when, the king being a captive, his mother, the
regent, had permitted Pope and parliament to erect a tribunal for the
summary trial and execution of heretics. The Bishop of Amiens, in whose
diocese De Berquin's lands were situated, having applied to parliament,
easily obtained the authority to seize him, disregarding even the ordinary
rights of asylum.[272] After his arrest he was again transferred from the
episcopal palace to the conciergerie at Paris, and his trial entrusted to the
new inquisitorial commission. A series of propositions extracted from his
writings, and censured by the Sorbonne, insured his condemnation as a
relapsed heretic, and De Berquin was handed over to the secular arm for
condign punishment. But again, at the very instant when his ruin was
imminent, he met with unexpected deliverance. The sympathy of the king's
sister was enlisted, and she used her influence with her mother to obtain an
order adjourning all proceedings against De Berquin until the monarch
should be released. Meanwhile she wrote urgent letters in his behalf to
Francis and to his favorite, the grand master of the palace and future
constable of France, Anne de Montmorency. The reply came in an order
from the king, at Madrid, directing his parliament to cease from giving
disturbance to Berquin and such men of learning.[273]
It is suggestive of the delays attending even the
execution of the will of so arbitrary a prince as Francis, Dilatory measures
that, although De Berquin was thus delivered from the of parliament.
immediate prospect of death, months passed before he regained his liberty.
Successive royal orders were required to secure any alleviation of his hard
confinement. Thus, when his health suffered from want of exercise and pure
air, parliament grudgingly permitted him to leave his solitary cell for an
hour morning and evening, at such time as the court might be clear of other
prisoners whom he could contaminate. And when De Berquin complained
that his books and writing materials had been denied him, the extent of the
parliament's generosity was to grant him "the epistles of St. Jerome and
some other Catholic books." At length, the king's patience becoming

exhausted by the court's procrastination and technical objections, he sent
(November 21, 1526) the Provost of Paris forcibly to remove De Berquin
from the conciergerie to the Louvre, where he was soon restored his
freedom.[274]
The return of Francis from Madrid, and the rescue of
Berquin, Lefèvre, Roussel, and others, from the dangers Hopes of Margaret
of Angoulême.
to which they had been exposed, encouraged the more
sanguine reformers to hope that now at length the king would declare
himself openly in favor, if not of the evangelical doctrines, at least of some
form of religions toleration. Margaret of Angoulême had certainly labored
piously and assiduously to open her brother's eyes to the true character of
his fanatical advisers. In a letter still preserved and apparently written even
before Francis had been removed from Italy to Spain, she begged him to
regard his misfortune as only a mark of the Divine love, and intended to
give him time for reflection and consecration. This end being accomplished,
Heaven would gloriously deliver him and make him a blessing to all
Christendom—nay, even to infidel nations to be converted by his means.
[275]

However fanciful these brilliant anticipations may now appear, they did not
seem unreasonable at the time. It was not improbable that the example of
the illustrious German princes, his allies, who had embraced the
Reformation, might incline Francis decidedly to the same side. Margaret
had conceived great expectations, based upon a projected visit to the French
court by Count Von Hohenlohe, Dean of the Cathedral of Strasbourg—a
nobleman, who, having become a Protestant, was anxious to turn to the
advantage of his new convictions the influence secured to him by high
social rank. The correspondence of Francis's sister with the zealous German
noble opens a suggestive page of history. At first, Margaret, while
applauding the count's design and building great hopes upon it, advises him
to defer his visit until the king's return from Spain. Two months later, she is
even more anxious to see Hohenlohe in Paris, but feels constrained to tell
him that his friends have, for a certain reason, concluded that the proper
time has not yet arrived. A third letter, dated after the restoration of Francis
to his throne, informs us what that certain reason was. "I cannot tell you all
the grief I feel," Margaret writes, "for I clearly see that the state of things is
such that your coming cannot be productive of the comfort you would

desire. The king would not be glad to see you. The reason that your visit is
deemed inadvisable is the deliverance of the king's children, which the king
esteems as important as the deliverance of his own person."[276]
Here was the secret! Unfortunately for the Reformation,
policy was supposed to make it an imperative duty to Francis I. violates
his pledges to
conciliate the favor of the Pope, no less after the release Charles V.
of Francis than while he was yet a prisoner. There were
the young princes sent by the regent as hostages for the fulfilment of the
treaty with Charles of Spain, for whose liberation measures were to be
devised. And there was the oath—to the shame of Francis, it must be added
—from the binding force of which the king hoped to be relieved by
authority of the Roman bishop; for scarcely had Francis set foot on his own
dominions, when he unblushingly retracted all his treaty stipulations. He
announced to the emperor that the cession of Burgundy, the Viscounty of
Auxonne, and other territories, which had been made by his imperial captor
the indispensable condition of his release, was entirely out of the question;
and that his promises, extorted while he was in duress, were of no validity!
Nevertheless, he offered, in lieu thereof, the payment of a larger ransom
than had ever been proffered by a king of France. Indignant at a perfidy
somewhat flagrant, even for an age tolerably well accustomed to breaches
of faith, the emperor refused the substitute. The arms recently laid aside
were resumed. Clement the Seventh and Venice became the allies of
Francis, who for the present figured as the champion of the papacy; while
his rival, by suffering the traitor Constable de Bourbon with an army of
German soldiers to besiege the pontiff in his capital, became responsible in
the eyes of the world for all the atrocities of the famous sack of the city of
Rome. When, at length, after three years of hard fighting, peace was
concluded by the treaty of Cambray (July, 1529), the terms agreed upon at
Madrid were virtually carried into effect; but the emperor consented to
receive the sum of two millions of Crowns—êcus-au-soleil—in place of
Burgundy, and on payment to restore to the French the dauphin and the
Duke of Orleans, the future Henry the Second, so long detained as hostages
in Spain.
Meantime the revenues of the royal domain, having
during the late wars been subjected to a long and The king's
necessities.
unremitting drain, had proved utterly inadequate to meet

the extraordinary demand of treasure for the resumption
of the hostilities following close upon Francis's release. A despotic course
Recourse must be had to the purses of the king's suggested.
subjects. The right to levy taxes resided in the States General alone, and
Francis was reluctant, at so critical a juncture, to trample on a time-
hallowed principle. He did not, indeed, hesitate to admit that he had been
gravely counselled by some of his advisers to resort to a more despotic
course; for they maintained that, in so praiseworthy an undertaking as the
effort to recover the young princes, the king was warranted by all laws,
divine and human, in laying under contribution every one of his subjects, of
whatever rank or condition.[277] But, as the same ends might be attained by
methods more agreeable to law and precedent, Francis preferred to have
recourse to them.
On the sixteenth of December, 1527, one of those
anomalous political bodies was convened in the palace An assembly of
notables.
of the Parisian parliament to which the name of an
assembly of notables is given. All the orders of the state were represented;
but the form of a meeting of the States General (as we have seen, most
distasteful to the despotic monarch) was studiously avoided.[278] In reply to
a very full exposition of the present condition of the kingdom and of the
incidents of his capture, made by Francis in person to the assembled
clergymen, nobles, jurists, and burgesses of Paris, each order in turn gave
its opinion. All united in approving the refusal of the king to surrender
Burgundy to the emperor, and in expressing their unwillingness to allow his
Majesty to return to Spain and thus redeem the promise he had given in
case the treaty failed to be carried into effect. All likewise professed their
readiness to contribute, according to their ability, to the necessities of the
crown.
The first president, M. de Selve, in the name of parliament, delivered a
discourse which the clerk of the assembly, no doubt aptly, describes as
"crammed with Latin and with quotations from Scripture, to prove that the
treaty of Madrid was null and void."[279] His grounds were that the king
could neither dispose of his own person, which belonged to the state, nor
alienate Burgundy, which, being a fief of the first rank and a bulwark of the
kingdom, was inseparable from France. But probably the whole prodigious

mass of classic lore, and of scriptural quotation, even more unfamiliar to
most of his hearers, which the pedantic president forced upon the digestion
of the unfortunate notables, was required to prove to their satisfaction that
Francis had in this affair played the part of the "gentilhomme" he boasted of
being.
The speech of the Cardinal of Bourbon was especially
important. He announced the willingness of the Speech of the
representatives of the French clergy cheerfully to supply Cardinal
Bourbon.
of

the 1,300,000 livres asked of their order, although at the
same time he suggested the propriety of first convoking provincial councils,
in which the church might be more fully consulted. With this gracious
concession, however, the cardinal coupled three requests, of which the first
and third concerned the liberation of the Pope from his imprisonment and
the conservation of the liberties of the Gallican church; but the second had a
pointed reference to the Reformation: he prayed "that the king might be
pleased to uproot and extirpate the damnable and insufferable Lutheran sect
which had, not long since, secretly entered the realm, with all the other
heresies that were multiplying therein." By thus acting, he assured him,
Francis "would perform the duty of a good prince bearing the name of Very
Christian King."
The gratified monarch, delighted with the complaisance
of his clerical subjects, did not hesitate to accede to all Francis promises to
the petitions the Cardinal offered, and declared that, "so prove himself "Very
Christian."
far as concerned heresies, he was determined not to
endure them, but would cause them to be wholly extirpated and driven from
his kingdom," inflicting on any found tainted therewith such exemplary
punishment as to demonstrate his right to the honorable title he bore.[280]
It was a rash promise that Francis had made. Like many other absolute
monarchs, he expected without trouble to bring the religious convictions of
his subjects into conformity with the standard he was pleased to set up.[281]
He had yet to learn that there are beliefs which, when they take root in the
hearts of humble and illiterate peasants or artisans, are too firmly fixed to
be eradicated by the most excruciating tortures man's ingenuity has been
able to contrive. Through fire and sword, the victim now of persecution,
again of open war, the faith denominated heresy was yet to survive, not only

the last lineal descendant of the king then sitting on the throne of France,
but the rule of the dynasty which was destined to succeed to the power, and
reproduce not a few of the mistakes, of the Valois race.
In accordance with the suggestion of the Cardinal of
Bourbon, three provincial councils were held early in the The provincial
ensuing year (1528). The most important was the council of Sens.
council of the ecclesiastical province of Sens, which met, however, in the
Augustinian monastery at Paris. It was scarcely to be expected that a synod
presided over by Antoine Duprat, who, to the dignity of cardinal and the
office of Chancellor of France, added the Bishopric of Albi and the
Archbishopric of Sens, with the claim to be Primate of the Gauls and of
Germany, should discuss with severity the morals of the clergy, or issue
stringent canons against the abuse of the plurality of benefices. As an offset,
however, the Council of Sens had much to say respecting the new
reformation. The good fathers saw in the discordant views of Luther and
Carlstadt, of Melanchthon and Zwingle, proof positive that the new
doctrines the reformers advanced were devoid of any basis of truth. They
ridiculed the claim of the Protestants to the presence of the Spirit of God.
But they reserved their severest censures for the practice of holding secret
conventicles, and, with an irony best appreciated by those who understand
the penalties inflicted by the law on the discovered heretics, they gently
reminded the men and women to whom the celebration of a single religious
service according to the dictates of their conscience would have insured
instantaneous condemnation and a death at the stake, that God hates the
deeds of darkness, and that Christ himself said, "What I tell you in
darkness, that speak ye in light."[282]
More practical were the prescriptions of the council's
decrees respecting the punishment of offenders against The punishment of
heretics.
the unity of the faith. Heretics who, after conviction,
refused to be "united to the church," were to be consigned to prison for life,
priests to be degraded, the relapsed to be given over to the secular arm
without a hearing. Heretical books, including translations of the Bible, were
to be surrendered to the bishop. Indeed, it was stipulated that every book
treating of the faith, and printed within the past twenty years, should be
submitted to him for examination. Nor was the council satisfied to leave the
discovery of heresy to accident. It was particularly enjoined upon every

bishop that he, or some competent person appointed by him, should visit
any portion of his diocese in which the taint of unsound doctrine was
reported to exist, and compel three or more persons of good standing, or
even the entire body of the inhabitants of a neighborhood, to denounce
under oath those who entertained heretical views, the frequenters of secret
conventicles, and even those who merely held aloof from the conversation
of the faithful. Lest this stimulus to informers should prove insufficient to
extract the desired knowledge, the threat was added that persons refusing to
testify would be treated as suspected, and themselves proceeded against.
[283]

Not less severe toward the "Lutheran" doctrines did the
other two provincial councils show themselves. At the The councils of
Bourges and Lyons.
Council of Bourges, the Cardinal of Tournon presided as
archbishop—a prelate who was to attain unenviable notoriety as the prime
instigator of the massacre of Mérindol and Cabrières, of which an account
will be given in a subsequent chapter. Besides the usual regulations for the
censure of heretical books and the denunciation of "Lutherans," the decrees
contain the significant direction that the professors in the University of
Bourges shall employ in their instructions no authors calculated to divert
the students from the ceremonies of the church—a caution deriving its
importance from the circumstance that the university, under the patronage
of Margaret of Angoulême, now Duchess of Berry as well as Queen of
Navarre, had become a centre of reformatory activity.
The letter in which the king had called upon the Archbishop of Lyons to
convene the clergy of his province, declared that Francis had ever held the
accursed sect of the "Lutherans" in hatred, horror, and abomination, and
that its extirpation was an object very near his heart, for the
accomplishment of which he would employ all possible means;[284] and the
Council of Lyons responded by cordial approval and by the enactment of
fresh regulations to suppress conventicles, to prevent the farther
dissemination of Luther's writings, and, indeed, to forbid all discussion of
matters of faith by the laity. At the same time the council unconsciously
revealed the necessity imposed on the private Christian to investigate for
himself the nature and grounds of his belief, by strongly reprobating the
disastrous custom of admitting into sacred orders a host of illiterate,
uncultivated persons of low antecedents—beardless youths—and by

confessing that this wretched practice had justly excited the contempt of the
world.[285]
Everywhere the clergy conceded the subsidy required by
the exigencies of the kingdom. But they left Francis in Financial help
bought by
no doubt respecting the price of their complaisance. This persecution.
was nothing less than the extermination of the new sect
that had made its appearance in France. And the king comprehended and
fell in with the terms upon which the church agreed to loosen its purse-
strings. No doubtful policy must now prevail! No more Berquins can be
permitted to make their boast that they have been able, protected by the
king's panoply, to beard the lion in his den!
An incident occurring in Paris, before the adjournment
of the Council of Sens, gave Francis a specious excuse Insult to an image.
for inaugurating the more cruel system of persecution
now demanded of him, and tended somewhat to conceal from the king
himself, as well as from others, the mercenary motive of the change. Just
after the solemnities of Whitsunday, an unheard of act of impiety startled
the inhabitants of the capital, and fully persuaded them that no object of
their devotions was safe from iconoclastic violence. One of those numerous
statues of the Virgin Mary, with the infant Jesus in her arms, that graced the
streets of Paris, was found to have been shockingly mutilated. The body had
been pierced, and the head-dress trampled under foot. The heads of the
mother and child had been broken off and ignominiously thrown in the
rubbish.[286] A more flagrant act of contempt for the religious sentiment of
the country had perhaps never been committed. The indignation it
awakened must not be judged by the standard of a calmer age.[287] In the
desire to ascertain the perpetrators of the outrage, the king offered a reward
of a thousand crowns. But no ingenuity could ferret them out. A vague
rumor, indeed, prevailed, that a similar excess had been witnessed in a
village four or five leagues distant, and that the culprits when detected had
confessed that they had been prompted to its commission by the promise of
a paltry recompense of one hundred sous for every image destroyed. But,
since no one seems ever to have been punished, it is probable that this
report was a fabrication; and the question whether the mutilation of the
Virgin of the Rue des Rosiers was the deliberate act of a religious

enthusiast, or a freak of drunken revellers, or, as some imagined, a cunning
device of good Catholics to inflame the popular passions against the
"Lutherans," must, for the present, at least, remain a subject of profound
doubt.
But, whoever may have been the author, pains were
taken to expiate the sacrilege. Successive processions Expiatory
processions.
visited the spot. In one of these, five hundred students of
the university, chosen from different colleges and belonging to the first
families, bore lighted tapers, which they placed on the temporary altar
erected in front of the image. The clergy, both secular and regular, came
repeatedly with all that was most precious in attire and relics. To add still
more to the pomp of the propitiatory pilgrimages, Francis himself took part
in a magnificent display, made on the Fête-Dieu, or Corpus Christi (the
eleventh of June). He was preceded by heralds and by the Dukes of Cleves
and Ferrara and other noblemen of high rank, while behind him walked the
King of Navarre, the Cardinal of Lorraine, the Ambassadors of England,
Venice, Florence, and other foreign states, the officers of parliament, and a
crowd of gentlemen of the king's house, archers and persons of all
conditions bringing up the rear. On reaching the spot where the mutilated
statue still occupied its niche, Francis, after appropriate religious exercises,
ascended the richly carpeted steps, and reverently substituted an effigy in
solid silver, of similar size, in place of the image which had been the object
of insult.[288]
From this time forward, iconoclastic demonstrations
became more common. Paintings, also, when exposed to Other
icoconoclastic
the public view, shared the perils to which unprotected excesses.
statues were subjected. The Virgin, and such reputable
saints as St. Roch and St. Fiacre, depicted on the walls of the Rue St.
Martin, were wantonly disfigured, some two years later; so that at last, the
Parliament of Paris, in despair of preventing the repetition of the act, or of
discovering its authors, adopted the prudent course of forbidding that any
sacred representation should be placed on the exterior walls of a house
within ten feet of the ground![289]
The repeated assurances whereby Francis had conciliated the clergy, and
secured their contributions to the exchequer, embarrassed him in the

exercise of leniency toward Louis de Berquin, now for
the third time arraigned for heresy. Moreover, the Berquin's third
arrest.
audacity and violence of the iconoclasts, characteristics
assumed by him to be indicative of a disposition to
overturn all government, probably took away any He disregards the
cautions of
inclination he would otherwise have had to interfere in Erasmus.
the intrepid nobleman's behalf. De Berquin had no
sooner been released from his former imprisonment than he set himself to
prepare for new conflicts with his bigoted antagonists. He even resolved to
assume the offensive. In vain did Erasmus entreat him to be prudent,
suggest the propriety of his temporarily going abroad, and propose that he
should apply for some diplomatic commission as a plausible excuse for
absenting himself. Beda, he told him, was a monster with many heads, each
breathing out poison, while in the "Faculty" he had to do with an immortal
antagonist. The monks would secure his ruin were his cause more righteous
than that of Jesus Christ. Finally, the tremulous scholar begged him, if no
consideration of personal safety moved him, at least not to involve so ardent
a lover of peace as Erasmus in a conflict for which he had no taste. But his
reasoning had no weight with a man of high resolve and inflexible
principle, who could see no honorable course but openly meeting and
overthrowing error. "Do you ask," wrote Erasmus to a correspondent
interested in learning De Berquin's fate, "what I accomplished? By every
means I employed to deter him I only added to his courage."[290] If we may
believe Erasmus's strong expressions—for his own writings have very
nearly disappeared—De Berquin assailed the monks with a freedom almost
equal to that employed by the Old Comedy in holding up to merited
derision the foibles of Athenian generals and statesmen. He even extracted
twelve blasphemous propositions from Beda's utterances, and obtained a
letter from the king enjoining the Sorbonne either to pass sentence of
condemnation on their syndic's assertions, or to prove their truth from the
Holy Scriptures.[291] The Dutch philosopher, aghast at his friend's incredible
temerity, besought him instantly to seek safety in flight; and, when this last
appeal proved as ineffectual as all his frequent efforts in the past, he
confessed that he almost regretted that a friendship had ever arisen which
had occasioned him so much trouble and disquiet.[292]

A third time Louis de Berquin was arrested, on application of the officer
known as the Promoteur de la foi. His trial was committed to twelve judges
selected by parliament, among whom figured not only the first president
and the vicar-general of the Bishop of Paris, but, strange to say, even so
well-disposed and liberal a jurist as Guillaume Budé, the foremost French
scholar of the age for broad and accurate learning.[293] The case advanced
too slowly to meet De Berquin's impatience. In the assurance of ultimate
success, he is even accused by a contemporary chronicler of having offered
the court two hundred crowns to expedite the trial.[294] It soon became
evident, however, from, the withdrawal of the liberties at first accorded, that
Be Berquin would scarcely escape unless the king again interposed—a
contingency less likely to occur in view of the incessant appeals with which
Francis was plied, addressed at once to his interest, his conscience, and his
pride. But the more desperate the cause of Berquin, and the more uncertain
the king's disposition, the more urgent the intercessions of Margaret of
Angoulême, whose character is nowhere seen to better advantage than in
her repeated letters to her brother about this time.[295]
The sentence was rendered on the sixteenth of April,
1529. De Berquin, being found guilty of heresy, was Berquin sentenced
to public penance,
condemned to do public penance in front of Notre branding, and
Dame, with lighted taper in hand, and crying for mercy imprisonment.
to God and the blessed Virgin. Next, on the Place de
Grève, he was to be ignominiously exhibited upon a scaffold, while his
books were burned before his eyes. Taken thence in a cart to the pillory, and
again exposed to popular derision on a revolving stage, he was to have his
tongue pierced and his forehead branded with the ineffaceable fleur-de-lis.
His public disgrace over, De Berquin was to be imprisoned for life in the
episcopal jail.[296]
More than twenty thousand persons—so intense a hatred
had been stirred up against the reformers—assembled to He appeals, is
sentenced to death,
witness the execution of a sentence malignantly cruel. and is executed.
[297]
But, for that day, their expectation was
disappointed. Louis de Berquin gave notice that he appealed to the absent
king and to the Pope himself. It was no part of the programme, however,
that the thrice-convicted heresiarch should gain a fresh respite and enlist

powerful friends in effecting his release. No sooner were the judges
satisfied that he persisted in his appeal, in spite of the secret and urgent
advice of Budé and others, than they rendered a new and more severe
sentence (on the seventeenth of April): he must pay the forfeit of his
obstinacy with his life, and that, too, within a few hours.[298]
The cause of this intemperate haste is clearly set forth by a contemporary—
doubtless an eye-witness of the execution—all whose sympathies were on
the side of the prosecution. It was "lest recourse be had to the king, or to the
regent then at Blois;"[299] for the delay of even a few days might have
brought from the banks of the Loire another order removing De Berquin's
case from the commission to the royal council.
The historian must leave to the professed martyrologist the details of the
constant death of Louis de Berquin, as of the deaths of many other less
distinguished victims of the intolerant zeal of the Sorbonne. Suffice it to say
that although, when he undertook to address the people, his voice was
purposely drowned by the din of the attendants, though the very children
filled the air with shouts that De Berquin was a heretic, though not a person
was found in the vast concourse to encourage him by the name of "Jesus"—
an accustomed cry even at the execution of parricides—the brave nobleman
of Artois met his fate with such composure as to be likened by a by-stander
to a student immersed in his favorite occupations, or a worshipper whose
devout mind was engrossed by the contemplation of heavenly things.[300]
There were indeed blind rumors, as usual in such cases; to the effect that De
Berquin recanted at the last moment; and Merlin, the Penitentiary of Notre
Dame, who attended him, is reported to have exclaimed that "perhaps no
one for a hundred years had died a better Christian."[301] But the
"Lutherans" of Paris had good reason to deny the truth of the former
statement, and to interpret the latter to the advantage of De Berquin's
consistent faith—so great was the rejoicing over the final success attained
in crushing the most distinguished, in silencing the boldest and most
outspoken advocate of the reformation of the church. For, in the eyes of the
theological faculty and of the clergy of France, Louis de Berquin merited to
be styled, by way of pre-eminence, a heresiarch.[302]
Three years had not elapsed since the blow struck at the "Lutheran"
doctrines in France, in the execution of their most promising and intrepid

representative, before the hopes of the friends of the
Reformation again revived from a consideration of the Francis treats with
king's political relations. Disappointed at the the Germans.
contemptuous reception of their confession of faith by the Emperor at
Augsburg, the Protestant princes of Germany had formed a defensive
league. Francis, having basely abandoned his former allies, was left alone to
combat the gigantic power of a rival between two portions of whose
dominions his own kingdom lay exposed. Every consideration of prudence
dictated the policy of lending to the German Protestants, in their endeavor
to humble the pride of their common antagonist, the most efficient support
of his arms. Under these circumstances religious differences were impotent
to prevent the union. Accordingly, in May, 1532, through his ambassador,
the sagacious Du Bellay, Francis promised the discontented Elector of
Saxony and his associates the contribution of a large sum to enable them to
make a sturdy resistance. But the peace shortly concluded with Charles
rendered the proffered aid for a time unnecessary.[303]
Equally unproductive of advantage to the professors of
the reformed faith was the alliance for mutual defence and with Henry
VIII. of England.
between Francis and Henry the Eighth of England. Both
monarchs were inspired with the same hatred of the emperor, and each had
equal reason to complain of the insatiable rapacity of the Roman court. But
neither at the pompous interview of the two kings at Boulogne, nor
afterward, could Henry prevail upon Francis to take any decided measures
against the Pope such as the former, weary of the obstacles thrown in the
way of his divorce from Catharine of Aragon, was ready to venture. In his
intercourse with the English king, Francis is said to have adopted for his
guiding principle the motto, "Ami jusqu'à l'autel,"[304] and declined to
sacrifice his orthodoxy to his interests. But the truth was that, in the view of
Francis, his interests and his orthodoxy were coincident; and the difficulty
experienced by the two kings in coming to a common understanding lay in
the fact that, as has been well remarked, while in the enmity of Francis it
was not the Pope but the emperor that occupied the foremost place, it was
just the reverse with Henry.[305]
Francis had no thought of throwing away so valuable an
auxiliary in his Italian projects, or of permanently Meeting of Francis
I. and Clement, at

attaching to Charles so dangerous an opponent as the Marseilles.
papal power. And thus it happened that, a year from the
time of his consultation with Henry, Francis proceeded Marriage of Henry
to Marseilles to extend a still more cordial welcome to of Orleans to
Catharine de'
Clement himself. The wily pontiff had so dazzled the Medici.
eyes of the king, that the latter had consented to, if he
had not actually proposed, a marriage between Henry, Duke of Orleans, his
second son, and Catharine de' Medici, the Pope's niece.[306] The match was
not flattering to Francis's pride; but there were great prospective
advantages, and the bride was less objectionable because the bridegroom, as
a younger son, was not likely to ascend the throne. But here again the king
was destined to be disappointed. Clement's death, soon after, destroyed all
hope of Medicean support in Italy; and the death of Francis, the dauphin,
made Henry of Orleans heir apparent to the throne. It was not long before
the French people, with the soundness of judgment generally characterizing
the deliberate conclusions reached by the masses, came to the opinion,
expressed by one of the Venetian ambassadors two years after the wedding:
"Monseigneur of Orleans is married to Madam Catharine de' Medici, to the
dissatisfaction of all France; for it seems to everybody that the most
Christian king was cheated by Pope Clement."[307] Such were the evil
auspices under which the Italian girl, only fourteen years of age,[308] entered
a country over whose destinies she was to exert a pernicious influence.
There was another part of the Pope's designs in the
execution of which he was less successful. He could not Francis refuses to
join in a crusade
persuade Francis to join in a general scheme for the against heresy.
extermination of heresy. In the very first interview,
Clement had sounded his host's disposition respecting the propriety of a
new crusade. He had bluntly submitted for consideration the question,
"Ought not Francis and the pious princes of Germany, with the emperor at
their head, to gather up their forces, enlist troops, and make all needful
preparations, to overwhelm the followers of Zwingle and Luther; in order
that, affrighted by the terrible retribution visited upon their fellows, the
remaining heretics should hasten to make their submission to the Roman
Church?" At the same time he threw out hints of his ability to assist in the
good work if only the French monarch would not refuse his co-operation.
But Francis was not ready for so sanguinary an undertaking. Unmoved by

the Pope's repeated solicitations, he replied that it seemed to him that
"neither piety nor concord would be promoted by substituting an appeal to
arms for the appeal to the Holy Scriptures, to whose ultimate decision both
Zwinglians and Lutherans professed themselves at all times anxious to
submit their doctrines and practice." He added the unpalatable advice that
the matters in dispute be considered by a free and impartial council, and
declared that, when the council had rendered its verdict, he would spare no
pains to sustain it. All the usual pontifical artifices proved abortive. Francis,
while valuing highly the friendship of Rome, was not willing to forego the
advantages of alliance with the Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of
Hesse.[309]
While the fickle monarch was thus drawn in opposite directions by
conflicting political considerations—at one time strengthening the hands of
the Protestant princes of Germany, at another, making common cause with
the Pope—the same diversity characterized the internal condition of France.
At Toulouse, the seat of one of most noted parliaments,
Jean de Caturce, a lawyer of ability, was put to death by Execution of Jean
de Caturce at
slow fire in the summer of 1532. His unpardonable Toulouse.
offence was that he had once made a "Lutheran"
exhortation, and that, in the merry-making on the Fête des Rois—Epiphany
—he had recommended that the prayer, "May Christ reign in our hearts!" be
substituted for the senseless cry, "The king drinks!" No more ample ground
of accusation was needed in a city where the luckless wight who failed to
take off his cap before an image, or fall on his knees when the bell rang out
at "Ave Maria," was sure to be set upon as a heretic.[310]
In striking contrast with the tragedy enacted in the chief
city of the south was the favor openly showed to the Le Coq's
reformers by the Queen of Navarre, not only in her own evangelical sermon.
city of Bourges, but in Paris itself. The intercessions she had addressed to
her brother for the victims of priestly persecution had long since betrayed
her secret leaning; and the translation of her "Hours" into French by the
Bishop of Senlis, who, by her direction, suppressed all that most directly
countenanced superstitious beliefs, was naturally taken as strong
confirmation of the prevalent suspicion. But, when she introduced
Berthault, Courault, and her own almoner, Roussel, to the pulpits of the

capital, and protected them in their evangelical labors, the case ceased to
admit of doubt.[311] She even persuaded the king to listen to a sermon in
which Le Coq, curate of St. Eustache, argued with force against the bodily
presence of Christ in the eucharist, and maintained that the very words,
"Sursum corda" in the church service, pointed Him out as to be found at the
right hand of God in heaven. Indeed, the eloquent preacher had nearly
convinced his royal listener, when the Cardinals of Tournon and Lorraine,
by a skilful stratagem, succeeded in destroying the impression he had
received, and, it is said, in inducing Le Coq to make a retraction.[312] But
the opposition to the public proclamation of the reformed doctrines was too
formidable for their advocates to stem. Beda and his colleagues in the
Sorbonne left no device untried to silence the preachers; and, although the
restless syndic was in the end forced to expiate his seditious words and
writings by an amende honorable in front of the church of Notre Dame, and
died in prison,[313] Roussel and his fellow-preachers had long before been
compelled to exchange their public discourses for private exhortations, and
finally to discontinue even these and retreat from Paris.[314]
Even so, however, the theologians could not contain
their indignation at the insult they had received. In the Margaret attacked
in the College of
excess of their zeal they went so far as to hold up the Navarre.
king's sister to condemnation and derision, in one of
those plays which the students of the Collége de Navarre were accustomed
annually to perform, as a scholastic exercise in public oratory (on the first
of October, 1533). A gentle queen was here represented as throwing aside
needle and distaff, at the crafty suggestion of a tempting fury, and as
receiving in lieu of those feminine implements a copy of the Gospels—
when, lo! she was suddenly transformed into a cruel tyrant. It was perhaps
hard to detect the exact connection between the acceptance of the holy book
and so disastrous a change of character—neither the students of the Collége
de Navarre nor their teachers thought it worth while to trouble themselves
about such trifles—but there was no difficulty in recognizing Margaret in
the principal actor of the play, or in deciphering the name of Master Gérard
Roussel—Magister Gerardus—in Megæra, the fury with the flaming torch,
that seduced her. On complaint of his sister, Francis, in some indignation,
ordered the arrest of the author of the insipid drama, as well as of the
youthful performers. The former could not be found, and the latter, thanks

to the queen's clemency, escaped with a less rigorous punishment than the
insult deserved.[315]
An equally audacious act was the insertion of a work
published by Margaret, under the title of Le miroir de Her Miroir de l'âme
pécheresse.
l'âme pécheresse, in a list of prohibited books. When the
university, to whom the censorship of the press was entrusted, was called to
account by the king, all the faculties promptly repudiated any intention to
cast doubt upon the orthodoxy of his sister, and even the originator of the
offensive prohibition was forced to plead ignorance of the authorship of the
volume in question. The rector of the university terminated the long series
of disclaimers by rendering thanks to Francis for his fatherly patience.[316]
Just a month after the unlucky dramatic representation of
the Collége de Navarre, the city was furnished with fresh Rector Cop's
food for scandal. On All Saints' day (the first of address to the
university.
November, 1533), the university assembled according to
custom in the church of the Mathurins, to listen to an address delivered by
the rector. But Nicholas Cop's discourse was not of the usual type. Under
guise of a disquisition on "Christian Philosophy," the orator preached an
evangelical sermon, with the First Beatitude for his text, and propounded
the view that the forgiveness of sin and eternal life are simple gifts of God's
grace that cannot be earned by man's good works.[317]
Never had academic harangue contained sentiments
savoring so strongly of the tenets of the persecuted Its extraordinary
character.
reformers. True, the rector had not omitted the ordinary
invitation to his hearers to join him in the salutation of the Virgin.[318] But
even this mark of orthodox Catholicity could not remove the taint of heresy
from an address the whole drift of which was to establish the cardinal
doctrine of the theology of Luther and Zwingle. It was a bold step. The
doctors of the Sorbonne could not suppress their indignation, and
Franciscan monks denounced the rector to the Parliament of Paris. When
summoned to appear before the court to answer the charges brought against
him, Cop at first endeavored to arouse in the university the traditional
jealousy of this invasion of scholastic privileges, claiming that these were
violated by his being cited to parliament before he had been in the first
instance tried by his peers. And, indeed, after a tumultuous meeting of the

university, called at the Mathurins a fortnight after the delivery of Cop's
address (the nineteenth of November), the Faculty of Arts came to the same
conclusion.[319] But, although the "Four Nations," and apparently the
Faculty of Medicine also, promised their support, the Faculties of Theology
and Law refused, and Cop did not venture to press his point. Warned of his
danger by a friendly tongue, when already on his way to the Palais de
Justice, in full official costume and accompanied by his beadles, he
consulted his safety by a precipitate flight from the city and from the
kingdom.[320]
The incidents just narrated derive their chief interest
from the circumstance that they bring to our notice for Calvin the real
the first time a young man, Jean Cauvin, or Calvin, of author.
Noyon, soon to figure among the most important actors in the intellectual
and religious history of the modern world; for it was not many days before
the authorship of the startling theological doctrines enunciated by the rector
was directly traced to his friend and bosom companion, the future reformer
of Geneva. In fact, Calvin seems to have supplied Cop with the entire
address—a production not altogether unworthy of that clear and vigorous
intellect which, within less than two years, conceived the plan of and
matured the most orderly and perfect theological treatise of the Reformation
—the "Institution Chrétienne." Between the sketch of Christian Philosophy
in the discourse written for the rector, and the Christian Institutes, there is,
nevertheless, a contrast too striking to be overlooked. And if the salutation
to the Virgin, in the exordium, was actually penned by Calvin, as is not
improbable, the change in his religious convictions would appear to have
been as marked and rapid as the development of his intellectual faculties. At
any rate, the recent discovery of the complete manuscript of Nicholas Cop's
oration ranks among the most opportune and welcome of antiquarian
successes in our times.[321]
Calvin was soon reduced to the necessity of following
the rector's example in fleeing from Paris; for the part he He seeks safety in
flight.
had had in preparing the address had become the public
talk. The young scholar—he was only in his twenty-fifth year—sought for
by the sanguinary lieutenant-criminel, Jean Morin, barely made good his
escape. Proceeding to Angoulême, he enjoyed, under the friendly roof of

Louis de Tillet, a short period of quiet and an opportunity to pursue his
favorite studies.[322]
The incessant representations made to the king
respecting the rapid progress of "Lutheran" doctrines in Francis rejects
roughly the
France, and perhaps also the occurrence of such intercession of the
incidents as that just mentioned, seem to have been the Bernese.
cause of the adoption of new measures against the
Reformation and its professors. Already, in October, Francis had written a
rough answer to the Council of the Canton of Berne, expressing extreme
surprise that they had ventured to intercede for the relatives of Guillaume
Farel, accused of heresy, and to beg him to give no credit in this matter
either to the royal officers or to the inquisitors of the faith.[323] And he had
used these significant words: "Desiring the preservation of the name of very
Christian king, acquired for us by our predecessors, we have nothing in the
world more at heart than the entire extirpation of heresies, and nothing
could induce us to suffer them to take root in our kingdom. Of this you may
rest well assured, and leave us to proceed against them, without your giving
yourselves any solicitude. For neither your prayers, nor those of any one
else whomsoever, could be of any avail in this matter with us."[324]
On his return from the marriage of his son Henry to
Catharine de' Medici, celebrated only four days before Royal letter to the
Bishop of Paris.
Cop's university harangue, Francis was induced to make
new provisions for the detection and punishment of dissent. Alarmed by the
progress of "Lutheran" sentiments in his very capital, as reported to him by
parliament, he not only urged that body to renewed diligence, but directed
the Bishop of Paris, the tolerant Jean du Bellay, who may have been
suspected of too much supineness in the matter,[325] to confer upon two
counsellors of parliament all the authority necessary to act for him, without
prejudice to his jurisdiction in other cases.[326] Both parliament and bishop
were at the same time notified of the receipt of two fresh bulls, kindly
furnished by Pope Clement, at Francis's request, to help in the good work of
extirpating "that accursed Lutheran sect."[327]

The number of extant poems on the death of
Louis de Berquin attests very clearly the Elegies on Louis
de Berquin.
estimate placed upon him by the Roman
Catholics as the most dangerous heretic—in fact, the heresiarch
of the day. A stanza of eight lines, which seems to have been
popular (for it has been discovered in MS. both in the
Bibliothèque Nationale, Génin, i. 219, and in the library of
Soissons, Bulletin de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot. franç., xi. 131),
represents the four elements as conspiring, at God's bidding, to
take vengeance upon him:

"Du faux Berquin et de ses documens
Dieu s'est vengé par les quatre élémens:
Terre luy a désnie sépulture;
Feu l'a destruit et sa fausse escripture;
Tisons par eau pluviale arrosez
Se sont plus fort esmeus et embrasez.
Dont (pour la fin du malheureux comprendre)
L'air par les vents en a receu la cendre."

I have been so fortunate as to discover two other poems on the
same subject, in a little collection in my possession entitled
Martini Theodorici Bellovaci Epigrammata (Parisiis, 1539),
which seems to be of such rarity that these pieces may almost be
viewed in the light of inedited documents. They are of special
interest because of the singular circumstance that this collection
of extremely "Catholic" effusions is dedicated to Odet de
Coligny, Cardinal of Châtillon, Archbishop of Toulouse, Bishop
and Count of Beauvais, elder brother of the more famous
Admiral massacred on St. Bartholomew's day. Cardinal
Châtillon, created such when only thirteen years old, was, at the
time of the publication of this book, a youth of scarcely more
than twenty-two, and a devout Roman Catholic, but
subsequently, as elsewhere stated, became an avowed Protestant
and a prominent Huguenot leader.
In the first of these poems, under the heading of Elegia Ludovici
Berquuyni, the writer would almost seem to have had in mind

the description by the ancient dramatists of the impious warfare
of Capaneus breathing out boastful threats against Jove himself
(Septem con. Theb., 416, etc.), or the Titans in conflict with the
Gods.

"Occultum patuit quod non celarier ultra
Debuit. Excellens Jupiter egit opus.
Sublimi elatum dejecit sede potentem,
Qui modo regnabat, qui modo jura dabat,
Quique superbifico regalia limina gressu
Tantum incedebat, pastus honore levi,
Et cedrina petens famæ monimenta perennis.
Insigni optabat sanctior esse Numa.
Lector, Ave, et causam properes dignoscere: casus
Hæreseos fœda labe volutus erat.
Hoc impune nefas solida an ratione stetisset,
Et Petri hausissent æquora vasta ratim,
Inviolata fides æterno permanet ævo.
Percutit injustos ira molesta Dei;
Quem neque præmeditans latuit Nero, funera cujus
Distulit adversa in tempora longa vice.
Occidit ergo miser, Divumque hominumque favore,
Traduxitque illuc sors malesuada virum.
Nil gravius pugnare Deo, pugnare feroci
Fortunæ. Vinci magnus uterque nequit."

The other elegy is shorter and less striking in conception, but
gives a similar impression of the importance assigned to Louis
de Berquin's activity and influence:

"Francia dum hymnidico resonet pæane juventus,
Parisia extincto gaudeat hoste phalanx.
Hic dudum, et nuper morbo scabiosus edaci,
Francorum reliquas inficiebat oves.
Cognitus haud potuit mundari errore nefando,
Quin purgaretur lucidiore foco.
Nam quamvis concessa esset clementia, durus

Obstitit, et rapido malluit igne mori."
The library of Soissons contains a MS. lament from a Protestant
source over the death of De Berquin, which is at once simple
and touching. It is printed in the Bulletin, xi. 129-131.

CHAPTER V.
MELANCHTHON'S ATTEMPT AT CONCILIATION, AND
THE YEAR OF THE PLACARDS.

It appears almost incredible that, so late as in the year 1534, the hope of
reuniting the discordant views of the partisans of reform and the adherents
of the Roman Church should have been seriously entertained by any
considerable number of reflecting minds, for the chasm separating the
opposing parties was too wide and deep to be bridged over or filled. There
were irreconcilable differences of doctrine and practice, and tendencies so
diverse as to preclude the possibility of harmonious action.
Not so, however, thought many sincere persons on both
sides, and not less on the side of the Reformation than Hopes of reunion in
the church.
on that of the Roman Catholic Church. True, the claims
of the papacy were insupportable, and the most flagrant abuses prevailed;
but many of the reformers believed it quite within the bounds of possibility
that the great body of the supporters of the church might be brought to
recognize and renounce these abuses, and break the tyrannical yoke that
had, for so many centuries, rested upon the neck of the faithful. The ancient
fabric of religion, they said, is indeed disfigured by modern additions, and
has been brought, by long neglect, to the very verge of ruin. But these
tasteless excrescences can easily be removed, the ravages of time reverently
repaired, and the grand old edifice restored to its pristine symmetry and
magnificence. In a word, it was a general reformation that was
contemplated—no radical reconstruction after a novel plan. And the future
council, in which all phases of opinion would be freely represented, was to
provide the adequate and sufficient cure for all the ills afflicting the body
politic and ecclesiastic.
By some of the more sanguine adherents of both parties these flattering
expectations were long entertained. With others the attempt to effect a
religious reconciliation seems to have served merely as a mask to hide
political designs; and at this distance of time it is among the most difficult

problems of history to determine the proportion in which earnest zeal and
rank insincerity entered as factors into the measures undertaken for the
purpose of reconciling theological differences. Especially is this true
respecting the overtures made by the French monarch to Philip
Melanchthon, which now claim our attention.
Early in the spring of the year 1534 Melanchthon
received a courteous visit at Wittemberg from an agent Melanchthon and
of the distinguished French diplomatist, Guillaume du Du Bellay.
Bellay-Langey, envoy to the Protestant princes of
Germany. The interview paved the way for a long A plan of
reconciliation.
correspondence between Melanchthon and Du Bellay
himself, in which the latter threw out suggestions of the practicability of
some plan for bringing the intelligent and candid men in both countries to
adopt a common ground in respect to religion. Finally, in response to Du
Bellay's earnest request, his correspondent consented to draw up such a
scheme as appeared to himself proper to serve for the basis of union. The
result was a paper of a truly wonderful character, in which the reader
scarcely knows whether to admire the evident charity dictating every line,
or to smile at the simplicity betrayed in the extravagant concessions. In a
letter accompanying his proposal Melanchthon set forth at some length both
his motives and his hopes. In touching upon controverted points, he claimed
to have exhibited a moderation that would prove to be not without utility to
the church. He professed his own belief that an accommodation might be
effected on every doctrinal point, if only a free and amicable conference
were to be held, under royal auspices, between a few good and learned men.
The subjects of dispute were less numerous than was generally supposed,
and the edge of many a sharply drawn theological distinction had been
insensibly worn away by the softening hand of time. By such a conference
as he proposed the perils of a public discussion could be avoided—a form
of controversy fatal, for the most part, to the peace of the unlearned. In fact,
no radical change was absolutely required in the ancient order or in
ecclesiastical polity. Not even the pontifical authority itself need necessarily
be abolished; for it was the desire of the Lutheran party, so far as possible,
to retain all the accustomed forms. In fine, he begged Du Bellay to exhort
the monarchs of Europe to concord while yet there was room left for the
counsels of moderation. What calamities might otherwise be in store! What

a ruin both of church and state, should a collision of arms be precipitated!
[328]

But Melanchthon's ardor had carried him far beyond his true reckoning. No
other reformer could have brought himself to approve the articles now
submitted for the king's perusal; while it was certain that not even this
unbounded liberality would satisfy the exorbitant demands of the Roman
party.
Melanchthon not only admitted that an ecclesiastical
system with bishops in many cities was lawful, but that Melanchthon's
concessions.
the Roman pontiff might preside over the entire
episcopate. He countenanced, to a certain extent, the current doctrine
respecting human tradition and the retention of auricular confession. He
discerned a gradual approach to concord in respect to justification, and
found no difficulty in the divergent views of free will and original sin. He
did, indeed, insist upon the rejection of the worship of saints, and advocate
expunging from the ritual all appeals for their assistance. So, too, monks
ought to be allowed to forsake the cloister, and monastic establishments
could then be advantageously turned into schools of learning. The celibacy
of the clergy should, in like manner, be forthwith granted. There was,
however, in his view, one point that bristled with difficulties. How to
remove them Melanchthon confessed himself unable to suggest. The
question of the popish mass was the Gordian knot which must be reserved
for the future council of the church to untie or cut.[329]
A faint suspicion seems, however, to have flitted through
the Wittemberg reformer's mind, that possibly, after all His own
misgivings.
his large admissions, his attempt was but labor lost! For,
in a letter to Martin Bucer, written on the very day he despatched his
communication to Du Bellay, he more than hinted his own despair of
effecting an agreement with the Pope of Rome, and excused himself for his
apparently lavish proffers, on the plea that he was desirous of making his
good French friends comprehend the chief points of controversy![330]
Melanchthon's articles, faithfully transmitted by Du
Bellay, produced on the mind of Francis a favorable A favorable
impression made on
impression. The ambitious monarch welcomed the Francis.

prospect of a speedy removal of the doctrinal differences that had
previously marred the perfect understanding he wished to maintain with the
Protestant princes of Germany. Whether, however, any higher motives than
considerations of a political character weighed with him, may well be
doubted.
Meantime, an unexpected occurrence for the time dispelled all thought of
that harvest of conciliation and harmony which the more moderate
reformers looked for as likely to spring up from the seed so liberally sown
by Melanchthon.
If, among the advocates of the purification of the church,
there was a party which, with Melanchthon, seemed Indiscreet partisans
ready to jeopard some of the most vital principles of the of reform.
great moral and religious movement, in the vain hope of again cementing an
unnatural union with the Roman system, there was another faction, to which
moderation and half-way measures were utterly repulsive. Its partisans
believed themselves warranted in resorting to open acts expressive of
detestation of the gilded idolatry of the popular religion. For their views
they alleged the Old Testament history as sufficient authority. Had not the
servants of Jehovah braved the resentment of the priests of Baal, and
disregarded the threats of kings and queens? Why treat the saints' images,
the crucifixes, the gorgeous robes and manufactured relics, with more
consideration than was displayed by Hebrew prophets in dealing with
heathen abominations? So inveterate an evil as the corruption of all that is
most sacred in Christianity could only be successfully combated by vigor
and decision. Only under heavy and repeated blows does the monarch of the
forest yield to the axe of the woodman.
Between the extremes of ill-judged concession and untimely rashness, the
great body of those who had embraced the Reformation endeavored to hold
a middle course, but found themselves exposed to many perils, not the
result of their own actions, but brought upon them by the timidity or
foolhardiness of their associates. A lamentable instance of the kind must
now be noticed.
For many months the street-walls of Paris had been
employed by both sides in the great controversies of the Placards and
pasquinades.

day, for the purpose of giving publicity to their views. Under cover of night,
placards, often in the form of pasquinades, were posted where they would
be likely to meet the eyes of a large number of curious readers. So, in the
excitement following the arrest and exile of Beda and other impertinent and
seditious preachers, placards succeeded each other nightly. In one the
theologians of the Sorbonne were portrayed to the life, and each in all his
proper colors, by an unfriendly pencil. In another, "Paris, flower of nobility"
was passionately entreated to sustain the wounded faith of God, and the
King of Glory was supplicated to confound "the accursed dogs," the
Lutherans.[331] Under the circumstances, it was not strange that the
"Lutheran" placard was hastily torn down by some zealot, with the
exclamation that the author was a heretic, while a crowd stood all day about
the other transcribing its unpoetic but pious exhortations to burn the
offenders against Divine justice, and no one attempted to remove it.
The success of this method of reaching the masses, who
could never be induced to read a formal treatise or book, Mission of Féret to
Switzerland.
suggested to some of the more ardent "Lutherans" of
Paris the idea of preparing a longer placard, which should boldly attack the
cardinal errors of the papal system of religion. But, the press being closely
watched in the French capital, it was thought best to have the placard
printed in Switzerland, where, indeed, the most competent and experienced
hands might be found for composing such a paper. The messenger
employed was a young man named Féret, an apprentice of the king's
apothecary;[332] and the printing seems to have been done in the humble but
famous establishment of Pierre Van Wingle, in the retired Vale of Serrières,
just out of Neufchâtel, and on the same presses which, in 1533, gave to the
world the first French reformed liturgy, and, two years later, the Protestant
translation of the Bible into the French language by Olivetanus.[333] There
is less certainty respecting the authorship, but it seems highly probable that
not Farel, but an enthusiastic and somewhat hot-headed writer, Antoine de
Marcourt, must be held responsible for this imprudent production.[334]
Féret, having on his return eluded detection at the
frontiers, reached Paris in safety. He brought with him a The placard against
the mass.
large number of copies of a broadside headed, "True
Articles respecting the horrible, great and insupportable Abuses of the

Papal Mass." Among those to whom the paper was secretly submitted,
there were some who, more prudent than the rest, decidedly opposed its
publication. It was too violent, they said. The writer's ill-advised severity
would answer no good purpose. The tract would alienate the sympathy of
many, and thus retard, instead of advancing, the cause it advocated.[335]
Remonstrance, however, proved futile.
Early on the morning of the eighteenth of October, 1534, a placard was
found posted upon the walls in all the principal thoroughfares of the
metropolis. Everywhere it was read with horror and indignation, mingled
with rage; and loud threats and curses were uttered against its unknown
author.
The document that called forth these expressions and was the occasion of
more important commotions in the sequel, had so direct and potent an
influence upon the fortunes of the Reformation in France that it cannot be
passed over without a brief reference to the general character of its contents.
It began with a solemn address: "I invoke heaven and earth in testimony of
the truth, against that proud and pompous papal mass, through which (if
God remedy not speedily the evil) the world will be wholly desolated,
destroyed, and ruined. For therein is our Lord so outrageously blasphemed
and the people so blinded and seduced, that it ought no longer to be suffered
or endured." Every Christian must needs be assured that the one sacrifice of
Christ, being perfect, demands no repetition. Still the world has long been,
and now is, flooded with wretched sacrificing priests, who yet proclaim
themselves liars, inasmuch as they chant every Sunday in their vespers, that
Christ is a priest forever after the order of Melchisedec. Wherefore not only
every man of sound understanding, but "they themselves, in spite of
themselves, must admit that the Pope and all his brood of cardinals,
bishops, monks, and canting mass-priests, with all who consent thereunto,
are false prophets, damnable deceivers, apostates, wolves, false shepherds,
idolaters, seducers, liars and execrable blasphemers, murderers of souls,
renouncers of Jesus Christ, of his death and passion, false witnesses,
traitors, thieves, and robbers of the honor of God, and more detestable than
devils." After citing from the book of Hebrews some passages to establish
the sufficiency of Christ, the writer addresses his opponents: "I demand
then of all sacrificing priests, whether their sacrifice be perfect or

imperfect? If imperfect, why do they deceive the poor people? If perfect,
why need it be repeated? Come forward, priests, and reply if you can!"
The body of Christ cannot, it is argued, be contained in the host. It is above,
whither also we are bidden raise our hearts and look for the Lord. To
breathe or mutter over the bread and wine, and then adore them, is idolatry.
To enjoin this adoration on others is a doctrine of devils. But these
impudent heretics, not ashamed of attempting to imprison the body of Jesus
in their wafer, have even dared to place this caution in the rubric of their
missals, "If the body of our Lord, being devoured of mice or spiders, has
been destroyed or much gnawed, or if the worm be found altogether within,
let it be burned and placed in the reliquary." "O Earth! How dost thou not
open and swallow up these horrible blasphemers! Wretched men, is this the
body of the Lord Jesus, the true Son of God? Doth he suffer himself to be
eaten of mice and spiders? He who is the bread of angels and of all the
children of God, is he given to us to become the food of animals? Will ye
make him who is incorruptible at the right hand of God to be the prey of
worms and corruption? Were there no other error than this in your infernal
theology, well would ye deserve the fagot! Light then your fires to burn
yourselves, not us who refuse to believe in your idols, your new gods, and
new Christs that suffer themselves to be eaten indifferently by animals and
by you who are no better than animals!"[336] Closing with a vivid contrast
between the fruits of the mass and those of the true Supper of our Lord, the
writer finally exclaims of his opponents, "Truth fails them, Truth threatens
and pursues them, Truth terrifies them; by which their reign shall shortly be
destroyed forever."[337]
It would be difficult to exaggerate the effect produced
upon the populace of Paris by this intemperate handbill. The popular
If any part of the ceremonial of the church was deeply excitement in Paris.
rooted in the devotion of the common people, it was the service of the mass.
And in attacking the doctrine of the Real Presence, the authors of this libel,
distributed under cover of the darkness, had, in the estimation of the rabble,
proved themselves more impious and deserving a more signal punishment
than that sacrilegious Jew whose knife had drawn drops of miraculous
blood from the transubstantiated wafer. Not the parish priests, nor the
doctors of the Sorbonne, could surpass the infuriated populace in loud

execrations of the wretch for whom burning alive seemed too mild a
punishment.
But a second act of ill-timed rashness accomplished a
result even more disastrous for Protestantism than the Anger of the king.
kindling of the fanatical zeal of the people; for it
inflamed the anger of the king, and made him, what all the persuasions of
the Roman court had hitherto failed to make him, a determined enemy and
persecutor of the "new doctrines." A copy of the placard was secretly
affixed by night to the very door of the royal bedchamber in the castle of
Amboise,[338] where Francis and his court were at the time sojourning. If
the contents of the tract offended the religious principles carefully
inculcated upon the king by his spiritual instructors, the audacity of the
person who, disregarding bars, bolts and guards, had presumed to invade
the privacy of the royal abode and obtrude his unwelcome message, could
not but be regarded in the light of a direct personal insult. Francis had not
been in the habit of troubling himself about the private opinions of the
learned on vexed points of theology; nor had he been inclined to permit his
more fanatical subjects to harass any of those eminent scholars whose
literary attainments added lustre to his brilliant court. Yet his claim to the
right of enforcing uniformity of belief—and that uniformity a complete
conformity to his own creed—had rather been held in abeyance than
relinquished. Louis de Berquin had, at his cost, discovered that the royal
protection could not be expected even by a personal favorite and a scholar
of large acquisitions, when, not content with holding doctrines deemed
heretical, he strove to promulgate them. The interposition of Margaret of
Angoulême had proved unavailing in his behalf. The heretics who had now
ventured to nail an exposé of their dogmas on his bedchamber door could
scarcely anticipate greater clemency.
To personal motives were added political considerations.
Indulgence to the perpetrators of an act so insulting to Political
considerations.
the Roman Catholic religion might drive the pontiff,
whose friendship was an essential requisite of success in Francis's
ambitious projects, to become the fast friend of the emperor, his rival. Pope
Clement the Seventh had been succeeded by Paul the Third. The alliance
cemented by the marriage of the Duke of Orleans to Catharine de' Medici
had been dissolved by the death of the bride's uncle. The favor of the new

Pope must be conciliated. Under such circumstances, what were the
sufferings of a few poor reformers, when weighed in the balance against the
triple crown of his Holiness?
Francis determined to return to Paris for the purpose of
superintending in person a search for the culprits. It is Fruitless
intercession of
true that the Queen of Navarre attempted to moderate his Margaret.
anger by suggesting that it was not unlikely that the
placard, far from being composed by the "Lutherans," was the cunning
device of their enemies, who thus sought to insure the ruin of the innocent.
But the king appears not unreasonably to have rejected the suggestion as
improbable; although, seven years later, Margaret reminded him of her
surmise, and maintained that the sequel had strongly confirmed its
accuracy.[339]
Far, indeed, from yielding to his sister's persuasions,
Francis in his anger took a step which he would certainly Francis abolishes
the art of printing.
have been glad himself, a few months later, to be able to
forget, and of which his panegyrists have fruitlessly striven to obliterate the
memory. On the thirteenth of January, 1535, after the lapse of nearly three
months from the date of the publication of the placards—an interval that
might surely be regarded as sufficiently long to permit his overheated
passions to cool down—the king sent to the Parliament of Paris an Edict
absolutely prohibiting any exercise of the Art of Printing in France, on pain
of the halter! It was no secret from whom the ignoble suggestion had come.
A year and a half earlier (on the seventh of June, 1533), the theologians of
the Sorbonne had presented Francis an urgent petition, in view of the
multiplication of heretical books, wherein they set forth the absolute
necessity of suppressing forever by a severe law the pestilent art which had
been the parent of so dangerous a progeny.[340] The king was now acting
upon the advice of his ghostly counsellors!
Happily for Francis, however, whose ambition it had
hitherto been to figure as a modern Mæcenas, even a He suspends the
subservient parliament declined the customary disgraceful edict.
registration. The king, too, coming to his senses after the lapse of six weeks,
so far yielded to the remonstrances of his more sensible courtiers as to
recall his rash edict, or, rather, suspend its operation until he could give the

matter more careful consideration. Meanwhile he undertook to institute a
censorship. The king was to select twelve persons of quality and pecuniary
responsibility, from a list of twice that number of names submitted by
parliament; and this commission was to receive the exclusive right to print
—and that, in the city of Paris alone—such books as might be approved by
the proper authorities and be found necessary to the public weal. Until the
appointment of the twelve censors the press was to remain idle! Nor was the
suspension of the prohibitory ordinance to continue a day longer than the
term required by the monarch to decide whether he preferred to modify its
provisions or leave them unchanged. "Albeit on the thirteenth day of
January, 1534,"[341] wrote this much lauded patron of letters, "by other
letters-patent of ours, and for the causes and reasons therein contained, we
prohibited and forbade any one from thenceforth printing, or causing to be
printed, any books in our kingdom, on pain of the halter: nevertheless, we
have willed and ordained that the execution and accomplishment of our said
letters, prohibitions and injunctions, be and continue suspended and
surcease until we shall otherwise provide."[342]
Meantime, parliament had not been slack in obeying the
command to search diligently for the authors and Vigorous
proceedings of
publishers of the placards. Many reputed "Lutherans" parliament.
had been arrested, some of whom, it was given out,
pretended to reveal the existence of a plot of the reformers to fall upon the
good Christians of the metropolis while assembled in their churches for
divine worship, and assassinate them in the midst of their devotions! The
credulous populace made no difficulty in accepting the tale. Paris shuddered
at the thought of its narrow escape, and some hundreds of thousands of men
and women reverently crossed themselves and thanked heaven they had not
fallen a prey to the blood-thirsty designs of a handful of peaceable and
unarmed adherents of the "new doctrines!" As for Francis himself, a grave
historian tells us that his apprehensions were inflamed by the very mention
of the word "conspiracy."[343]
The investigation had been committed to practised
hands. The prosecuting officer, or lieutenant-criminel, Abundance of
victims.
Morin, was as famous for his cunning as he was
notorious for his profligacy. Moreover, the judicious addition of six hundred

livres parisis to his salary afforded him a fresh stimulus and prevented his
zeal from flagging.[344] The timidity or treachery of one of the prisoners
facilitated the inquest. Terrified by the prospect of torture and death, or
induced by hope of reward, a person, obscurely designated as le Guainier,
or Gueynier,[345] made an ample disclosure of the names and residences of
his former fellow-believers. The pursuit was no longer confined to those
who had been concerned in the distribution of the placards. All reputed
heretics were apprehended, and, as rapidly as their trials could be
prosecuted, condemned to death. There was a rare harvest of falsehood and
misrepresentation. No wonder that innocent and guilty were involved in one
common fate.[346]
It does not come within the scope of this history to give an edifying account
of the courage displayed by the victims of the frenzy consequent upon the
placards. The very names of many are unknown. Among the first to be
committed to the flames was a young man, Barthélemi Milon, whom
paralysis had deprived of the use of the lower half of his body.[347] His
unpardonable offence was that copies of the placard against the mass had
been found in his possession. A wealthy draper, Jean du Bourg, had been
guilty of the still more heinous crime of having posted some of the bills on
the walls. For this he was compelled before execution to go through that
solemn mockery of penitence, the amende honorable, in front of the church
of Notre Dame, with but a shirt to conceal his nakedness, and holding a
lighted taper in his hand; afterward to be conducted to the Fontaine des
Innocents, and there have the hand that had done the impious deed cut off at
the wrist, in token of the public detestation of his "high treason against God
and the king." A printer, a bookseller, a mason, a young man in orders, were
subjected to the same cruel death. But these were only the first fruits of the
prosecution.[348] However opinions may differ respecting the merits of the
cause for which they suffered, there can be but one view taken of their
deportment in the trying hour of execution. In the presence of the horrible
preparatives for torture, the most clownish displayed a fortitude and a noble
consciousness of honest purpose, contrasted with which the pusillanimous
dejection, the unworthy concessions, and the premeditated perjury of
Francis, during his captivity at Madrid not ten years before, appear in no
enviable light. The monarch who bartered away his honor to regain his

liberty[349] might have sat at the feet of these, his obscure subjects, to learn
the true secret of greatness.
The punishment of the persons who had taken part in the
preparation and dissemination of the placards was The great expiatory
procession.
deemed an insufficient atonement for a crime in the guilt
of which they had involved the city, and, indeed, the whole kingdom. As the
offence excelled in enormity any other within the memory of man, so it was
determined to expiate it by a solemn procession unparalleled for
magnificence. Thursday, the twenty-first of January, 1535, was chosen for
the pageant. Along the line of march the streets had been carefully cleaned.
A public proclamation had bidden every householder display from his
windows the most beautiful and costly tapestries he possessed. At the doors
of all private mansions large waxen tapers burned, and, at the intersection of
all side streets, wooden barriers, guarded by soldiers, precluded the
possibility of interruption.
Early on the appointed morning, the entire body of the clergy of Paris,
decked out in their most splendid robes and bearing the insignia of their
respective ranks, assembled in Notre Dame, and thence in solemn state
marched to the church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, to meet the king. Sixteen
dignitaries bore aloft the precious reliquary of Sainte Geneviève; others in
similar honor supported the no less venerated reliquary of Saint Marcel.
Those skilled in local antiquities averred that never before had the sacred
remains of either saint been known to be brought across the Seine to grace
any similar display.
At Saint Germain l'Auxerrois—that notable church under the very shadow
of the Louvre, whose bell, a generation later, gave the first signal for the
massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day—the royal court and the civil and
municipal bodies that had been permitted to appear on so august an
occasion, were in waiting. At length the magnificent column began its
progress, and threading the crowded streets of St. Honoré and St. Denis,
made its way, over the bridge of Notre Dame, to the island upon which
stood and still stands the stately cathedral dedicated to Our Lady. Far on in
the van rode Éléonore, Francis's second queen, sister to the emperor,
conspicuous for her dignified bearing, dressed in black velvet and mounted
on a palfrey with housings of cloth of gold. In her company were the king's

daughters by his former wife, the "good Queen Claude," all in dresses of
crimson satin embroidered with gold; while a large number of princesses
and noble ladies, with attendant gentlemen and guards, constituted their
escort.
The monastic orders came next. Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians,
Carmelites, all were there, with burning tapers and highly prized relics. The
parish churches were represented in like manner by their clergy; and these
were followed by the chapter of the cathedral and by the multitudinous
professors and scholars of the university. Between this part of the
procession and the next, came a detachment of the Swiss guards of the king,
armed with halberds, and a band of skilled musicians performing, on
trumpets, hautboys, and other instruments, the airs of the solemn hymns of
the church.
An honorable place was held by the ecclesiastics of the "Sainte Chapelle,"
originally built by Louis the Ninth, in the precincts of his own palace, for
the reception of the marvellous relics he brought home from Holy Land.
Those relics were all here, together with the other costly possessions of the
chapel—the crown of thorns, the true cross, Aaron's rod that budded, the
great crown of St. Louis, the head of the holy lance, one of the nails used in
our Lord's crucifixion, the tables of stone, some of the blood of Christ, the
purple robe, and the milk of the Virgin Mary—all borne in jewelled
reliquaries by bishops.
Four cardinals in scarlet robes followed—Givri, Tournon, Le Veneur, and
Châtillon—an uncongenial group, in which the violent persecutor and the
future partisan of the Reformation walked side by side. But the central point
in the entire procession was occupied not by these, but by Jean du Bellay,
Bishop of Paris, bearing aloft a silver cross in which was enclosed the
consecrated wafer of the eucharist, whose title to adoration it was the grand
object of the celebration to vindicate. The king's three sons—the dauphin,
and the Dukes of Orleans and Angoulême—with a fourth prince of the
blood—the Duke of Bourbon Vendôme—held the supports of a magnificent
canopy of velvet, sprinkled with golden fleurs-de-lis, above the bishop and
his sacred charge. Francis himself walked behind him, with a retinue of
nobles, officers of government, judges of parliament, and other civilians
closing the line. The king was naturally the object of universal observation.

Dressed in robes of black velvet lined with costly furs, he devoutly
followed the elevated host, with uncovered head, and with a large waxen
taper in his hands. Several stations had, at great expense, been erected along
the designated route. At each of these the procession halted, and the Bishop
of Paris placed the silver cross with its precious contents in a niche made to
receive it. Then the king, having handed his taper to the Cardinal of
Lorraine at his side, knelt down and reverently worshipped with joined
hands, until a grand anthem in honor of the sacrament had been intoned.
The scene had been well studied, and it made the desired impression upon
the by-standers. "There was no one among the people," say the registers of
the Hôtel de Ville in unctuous phrase, "be he small or great, that did not
shed warm tears and pray God in behalf of the king, whom he beheld
performing so devout an act and worthy of long remembrance. And it is to
be believed that there lives not a Jew nor an infidel who, had he witnessed
the example of the prince and his people, would not have been converted to
the faith."[350]
At the conclusion of the mass—the most brilliant that
had ever been celebrated within the walls of the Memorable speech
of the king.
cathedral, Francis proceeded to the episcopal palace, to
dine in public, with the princes his children, the high nobility, cardinals,
ambassadors, privy counsellors, and some of the judges of the Parliament of
Paris. Here it was that he delivered a speech memorable in the history of the
great religious movement of the time. Addressing parliament and
representatives of the lower judiciary, Francis plainly disclaimed all
sympathy with the Reformation. "The errors," he said, "which have
multiplied, and are even now multiplying, are but of our own days. Our
fathers have shown us how to live in accordance with the word of God and
of our mother Holy Church. In that church I am resolved to live and die,
and I am determined to prove that I am entitled to be called Very Christian.
I notify you that it is my will that these errors be driven from my kingdom.
Nor shall I excuse any from the task. Were one of my arms infected with this
poison, I should cut it off! Were my own children contaminated, I should
immolate them![351] I therefore now impose this duty upon you, and relieve
myself of responsibility." Turning to the doctors of the university, the king
reminded them that the care of the faith was entrusted to them, and he

therefore appealed to them to watch over the orthodoxy of all teachers and
report all defections to the secular courts.
Francis had spoken in the heat of passion, but, in the
words of a contemporary, "if his fury was great, still Constancy of the
sufferers.
greater was the constancy of the martyrs."[352] Of this,
indeed, the king did not have to wait long for a proof. For, after having
witnessed, in company with the queen, the amende honorable of six
condemned "Lutherans" or "Christaudins," which took place on the square
in front of the cathedral, Francis, as he returned to the Louvre, passed the
places where these unfortunates were undergoing their supreme torments—
three near the Croix du Tiroir, in the Rue St. Honoré, and three at the
Halles. The first were men of some note—Simon Fouhet, of Auvergne, one
of the royal choristers, supposed to have been the person who posted the
placard in the castle of Amboise, Audebert Valleton, of Nantes, and
Nicholas L'Huillier, from the Châtelet of Paris. The others were of an
inferior station in life—a fruitster, a maker of wire-baskets, and a joiner.
All, however, with almost equal composure, submitted to their fate as to the
will of Heaven, rather than the sentence of human judges; scarcely seeming,
in their firm anticipation of an immortal crown, to notice the tumultuous
outcries of an infuriated mob which nearly succeeded in snatching them
from the officers of the law, in order to have the satisfaction of tearing their
bodies to pieces.[353]
It would seem, however, that the most relentless enemy
could scarcely have complained that any womanish Ingenious
indulgence had been shown to the persons singled out to contrivance for
protracting torture.
expiate the crime of posting the placard against the
mass. To delay the advent of death, the sole term of their excruciating
sufferings, an ingeniously contrived instrument of torture was put in play,
which if not altogether novel, had at least been but seldom employed up to
this time. Instead of being bound to the stake and simply roasted to death by
means of the fagots heaped up around him, the victim was now suspended
by chains over a blazing fire, and was alternately lowered into it and drawn
out—a refinement of cruelty whose principal recommendation to favor lay
in the fact that the diversion it afforded the spectators could be made to last
until they were fully satisfied, and the executioner chose to allow the

writhing sufferer to be suffocated in the flames.[354] So satisfactory were the
results of the Estrapade, that it came to be universally employed as the
instrument for executing "Lutherans," with the exception of a favored few,
to whom the privilege was accorded of being hung or strangled before their
bodies were thrown into the fire. Such was, soon after this time, the fate of
a woman, a school-teacher by profession, found guilty of heresy. In any
case, the judges took effectual measures to forestall the deplorable
consequences that might ensue from permitting the "Lutherans" to address
the by-standers, and so pervert them from the orthodox faith. The hangman
was instructed to pierce their tongue with a hot iron, or to cut it out
altogether; just as, at a later date, the sound of the drum was employed to
drown the last utterances of the victims of despotism.[355]
The flames of persecution were not extinguished with
the conclusion of the solemn expiatory pageant. For Flight of Marot.
months strangers sojourning in Paris shuddered at the
horrible sights almost daily meeting their eyes.[356] The lingering hope that
a prince naturally clement and averse to needless bloodshed, would at
length tire of countenancing these continuous scenes of atrocity, seemed
gradually to fade away. Great numbers of the most intelligent and scholarly
consulted their safety in flight; the friendly court of Renée of France,
Duchess of Ferrara, affording, for a time, asylum to Clément Marot, the
poet, and to many others. Meantime the suspected "Lutherans" that could
not be found were summoned by the town-crier to appear before the proper
courts for trial. A list of many such has escaped destruction of time.[357]
Fortunately, most of them had gotten beyond the reach of the officers of the
law, and the sentence could, at most, effect only the confiscation of their
property.
As summer advanced, however, the rigor of the
persecution was perceived to be somewhat abating. Royal declaration
of Coucy, July 16,
Finally, on the sixteenth of July, the king so far yielded 1535.
to the urgency of open or secret friends of progress
among the courtiers, as to issue a "Declaration" to facilitate the return of the
fugitives. "Forasmuch," said Francis, "as the heresies, which, to our great
displeasure, had greatly multiplied in our kingdom, have ceased, as well by
the Divine clemency and goodness, as by the diligence we have used in the

exemplary punishment of many of their adherents—who, nevertheless,
were not in their last hours abandoned by the hand of our Lord, but, turning
to Him, have repented, and made public confession of their errors, and died
like good Christians and Catholics—no further prosecution of persons
suspected of heresy shall be made, but they will be discharged from
imprisonment, and their goods restored. For the same reason, all fugitives
who return and abjure their errors within six months will receive pardon.
But Sacramentarians[358] and the relapsed are excluded from this offer.
Furthermore, all men are forbidden, under pain of the gallows, and of being
held rebels and disturbers of the public peace, to read, teach, translate or
print, whether publicly or in private, any doctrine contrary to the Christian
faith."[359] The concession, it must be confessed, was not a very liberal one;
for the exiles could return only on condition of recanting. Yet the new
regulations were mild in comparison with the previous practice, which
consigned all the guilty alike to death, and left no room for repentance.
Consequently, there were not a few, especially of the learned who had been
suspected of heresy, that were found ready to avail themselves of the
permission, even on the prescribed terms.
In explanation of this change in the policy of Francis,
the most remarkable rumors circulated among the Alleged
people. Not the least strange was one that has been intercession
Paul III.
of Pope

preserved for us by a contemporary.[360] It was reported
in the month of June, 1535, that Pope Paul the Third, having been informed
of "the horrible and execrable" punishments inflicted by the king upon the
"Lutherans," wrote to Francis and begged him to moderate his severity. The
pontiff did, indeed, express his conviction that the French monarch had
acted with the best intentions, and in accordance with his claim to be called
the Very Christian King. But he added, that when God, our Creator, was on
earth, He employed mercy rather than strict justice. Rigor ought not always
to be resorted to; and this burning of men alive was a cruel death, and better
calculated to lead to rejection of the faith than to conversion.[361] He
therefore prayed the king to appease his anger, to abate the severity of
justice, and grant pardon to the guilty. Francis, consequently, because of his
desire to please his Holiness, became more moderate, and enjoined upon
parliament to practise less harshness. For this reason the judges ceased from

criminal proceedings against the "Lutherans," and many prisoners were
discharged both from the Conciergerie and from the Châtelet.
That this extraordinary rumor was in general circulation appears from the
circumstance that it is alluded to by a Paris correspondent of Melanchthon;
while another account that has recently come to light states it not as a flying
report, but as a well-ascertained fact.[362] Its singularity is shown from its
apparent inconsistency with the well-known history and sentiments of the
Farnese Paul. It is difficult to conceive how the pontiff who approved of the
Society of Jesus and instituted the Inquisition in the kingdom of Naples,
could have been touched with compassion at the recital of the suffering of
French heretics. Yet the paradoxes of history are too numerous to permit us
to reject as apocryphal a story so widely current, or to explain it away by
making it only a popular echo of the convictions of the more enlightened as
to the views that were most befitting the claimant to a universal episcopate.
Francis himself, however, made no such statement to the
Venetian ambassador at his court. Marino Giustiniano, Clemency again
dictated by policy.
who gave in his report to the doge and senate this very
year, was informed by the French king that, on hearing of the suspension by
the Emperor Charles the Fifth of all sentences of death against the Flemish
heretics, he had also himself ordered that against every species of heretics,
except the Sacramentarians, proceedings should indeed be held as before,
but not to the extremity of death.[363] It is evident, therefore, that the
suppression of the most cruel features of the persecution had no higher
motive than political considerations. Francis had worked himself into a
frenzy, and counterfeited the sincerity of a bigot, when it was necessary to
make the Pope a friend, and a show of sanguinary ardor seemed most
adapted to accomplish his object. He now became tolerant, on discovering
that the course he had entered upon was alienating the Protestant princes of
Germany, upon whose support he relied in his contest with Charles the
Fifth. The turning-point appears to have been coincident with the time when
he found that the emperor was endeavoring to outbid him by offering a
short-lived toleration to the Netherlanders.
Only eleven days after the solemn propitiatory
procession, and while the trial and execution of the Francis writes to the
German princes.
French reformers were still in progress, Francis had

written to his allies beyond the Rhine, in explanation of the severe
punishment of which such shocking accounts had been circulated in their
dominions. He justified his course by alleging the disorderly and rebellious
character of the culprits, and laid great stress upon the care he had taken to
secure German Protestants from danger and annoyance.[364]
A month later, Voré de la Fosse was on his way to
Wittemberg, on a private mission to Melanchthon. He Melanchthon
entreated to come to
was bearer of a long and important letter from John France.
Sturm. The learned writer, a German scholar of
eminence and a friend of the reformed doctrines, was at this time lecturing
in Paris, and after his departure from Francis's dominions, became rector of
the infant university of Strasbourg. He contrasted the hopeful strain in
which he had described to his correspondent the prospects of religion, a
year since, with the terrors of the present situation. Crediting the king with
the best intentions, he cast the blame of so disastrous a change upon the
insane authors of the placards, who had drawn on themselves a punishment
that would have been well deserved, had it been moderate in degree. But,
unhappily, the innocent had been involved with the guilty, and informers
had gratified private malice by magnifying the offence. Francis had, it was
true, been led, at the intercession of Guillaume du Bellay and his brother,
the Bishop of Paris, to interpose his authority and protect the Germans
residing in his realm. But, none the less, he begged Melanchthon to fly to
his succor, and to exert an influence over the king which was the result of
Voré's continual praise, in putting an end to this unfortunate state of things.
Francis, he added, was willing to give pledges for the reformer's safety, and
would send him back in great honor to his native land, after the conclusion
of the proposed conference. "Lay aside, therefore," wrote Sturm, "the
consideration of kings and emperors, and believe that the voice that calls
you is the voice of God and of Christ."[365] Voré followed up this invitation
with great earnestness both in personal interviews and by letter.[366]
What answer should the reformer give to so pressing an
invitation? In his acknowledgment of Sturm's letter, His perplexity.
Melanchthon confessed that no deliberation had ever
occasioned him so much perplexity. It was not that domestic ties retained
him or dangers deterred him. But he was harassed by the fear that he would

be unable to accomplish any good. If only this doubt—amounting almost to
despair—could be removed, he would fly to France without delay. He
approved—so he assured his correspondent—of checking those fanatics
who were engaged in sowing absurd and vile doctrines, or created
unnecessary tumults. But there were others against whom no such charge
could be brought, but who modestly professed the Gospel. If through his
exertions some slight concessions were obtained, while points of greater
importance were sacrificed, he would benefit neither church nor state. What
if he secured immunity from punishment for such as had laid aside the
monk's cowl? Must he then consent to the execution of those conscientious
men who disapproved of the evident abuses of the mass and of the worship
of the saints? Now, as it was precisely the expression of this disapprobation
that had caused the present massacres, he trembled with fear lest he should
be put in the position of one that justified these atrocious severities. In
short, it was his advice, he said, in view of the cunning devices by which
the "phalanxes" of monks were wont to play upon the hopes and fears of the
high-born, that Francis, if honestly desirous of consulting the glory of
Christ, and the tranquillity of the church, be rather exhorted to assemble a
general council. Other measures appeared to him, not only useless, but
fraught with peril.[367]
At this point the king himself took a direct part in the
correspondence. On the twenty-third of June, 1535, he Formal invitation
from the king.
sent Melanchthon a formal request to visit his court, and
there dispute, in his presence, with a select company of doctors, concerning
the restoration of doctrinal unity and ecclesiastical harmony. He assured the
reformer that he had been prompted by his own great zeal to despatch Voré
with this letter—itself a pledge of the public faith—and besought him to
suffer no one to persuade him to turn a deaf ear to the summons.[368] Sturm,
Cardinal du Bellay, and his brother, all wrote successively, and urged
Melanchthon to come to a conference from which they hoped for every
advantage.[369]
No wonder that, after receiving so complimentary an
invitation, Melanchthon concluded to go to France, and Melanchthon
consents.
applied (on the eighteenth of August) to the Elector John
Frederick for the necessary leave of absence. He briefly sketched the

history of the affair, and set forth his own reluctance to enter upon his
delicate mission, until provided with the elector's permission and a safe
conduct from the French monarch. Two or three months only would be
consumed, and he had made arrangements for supplying his chair at Jena
during this short absence.[370] It appears, however, that Melanchthon felt
less confident of obtaining a gracious reply to his request than his words
would seem to indicate. Consequently, he deemed it prudent to ask Luther
to write first and urge his suit. The latter did not refuse his aid. "I am moved
to make this prayer," said Luther in his letter to the elector, "by the piteous
entreaty of worthy and pious persons who, having themselves scarcely
escaped the flames, have by great efforts prevailed upon the king to suspend
the carnage and extinguish the fires until Melanchthon's arrival. Should the
hopes of these good people be disappointed, the bloodhounds may succeed
in creating even greater bitterness, and proceed with burning and strangling.
So that I think that Master Philip cannot with a clear conscience abandon
them in such straits, and defraud them of their hearty encouragement."[371]
But even the great theological doctor's intercession was
unavailing. The very day the elector received "Master The elector refuses
to let him go.
Philip's" application, he wrote to Francis explaining his
reasons for refusing to let Melanchthon go to Paris. It is true that the letter
was not actually sent until some ten days later;[372] but no entreaties could
move the elector to reconsider his decision. Melanchthon indignantly left
the court and returned to Jena.[373] Here he subsequently received a written
refusal from John Frederick, couched in language far from agreeable. The
elector expressed astonishment that he should have permitted matters to go
so far, and that he continued to apply for permission even after his prince's
desire had been intimated. The danger to be apprehended for the peace of
Germany was far greater than any possible advantage that could be
expected from his mission. And the writer hinted very distinctly that little
confidence could be reposed in Francis's professions, where the Gospel was
concerned, as public history sufficiently demonstrated.[374]
The most ungrateful of tasks was reserved for
Melanchthon himself—the task of explaining his Melanchthon's
chagrin.
inability to fulfil his engagement. In a letter to Francis,
he expressed the hope that the delay might be only temporary, and he

exhorted the king to resist violent counsels, while seeking to promote
religious harmony and public tranquillity by peaceable means. To Du
Bellay and Sturm he complained not a little of the "roughness" of his
prince, whom he had never found more "harsh." He thought that the true
motive of the elector's refusal was to be found in the exaggerated report that
he had given up everything, merely because he had spoken too respectfully
of the ecclesiastical power. "I am called a deserter," he writes. "I am in great
peril among our own friends on account of this moderation; as moderate
citizens are wont in civil discords to be badly received by both sides.
Evidently the fate of Theramenes impends over me; for I believe Xenophon,
who affirms that he was a good man, not Lysias, who reviles him."[375]
Meanwhile the proposed conference encountered no less
decided reprobation from the Sorbonne, to which The proposed
conference
Francis had submitted his project. For the "articles" reprobated by the
drawn up by Melanchthon, a year before, in a spirit of Sorbonne.
conciliation much too broad to please the Protestants,
when placed in the hands of the same theological body, in a modified form,
and without the name of the author, were returned with a very unfavorable
report. The Parisian doctors suggested that, as an appropriate method of
satisfying himself whether there was any hope of accommodation, Francis
might propound such interrogatories as these to the German theologians
from whom the articles emanated: "Whether they confessed the church
militant, founded by divine right, to be incapable of erring in faith and good
morals, of which church, under our Lord Jesus Christ, St. Peter and his
successors have been the head. Whether they will obey the church, receive
the books of the Bible[376] as holy and canonical, accept the decrees of the
general councils and of the Popes, admit the Fathers to be the interpreters of
the Scriptures, and conform to the customs of the church?" As an
insufferable grievance they complained that the "articles" were not a request
for pardon, but actually a demand for concessions.[377]
The plan to entrap Melanchthon and some considerable portion of the
German Protestants into conciliatory proposals which Luther and the more
decided reformers could not admit, having failed through the abrupt and
tolerably rude refusal of the Elector of Saxony to permit his theological
professor to comply with the invitation of Francis, the latter appears to have

determined to put the best appearance upon the affair. Accordingly, he
promptly signified to the Sorbonne his approval of its action, and he seems
even to have suffered the rumor to gain currency that he was himself
dissuaded from bringing Melanchthon to France, by the skilful arguments
of the Cardinal of Tournon.[378]
In spite of the rebuff he had received, however, Francis made an attempt to
effect such an arrangement with the Protestant princes of Germany as
would secure their co-operation in his ambitious projects against Charles
the Fifth. To compass this end he was quite willing to make concessions to
the Lutherans as extensive as those which Melanchthon had offered the
Roman Catholics.
Four months had not elapsed since the unsuccessful
issue of his first mission, before Du Bellay was again in Du Bellay's
representations at
Germany. On the nineteenth of December, he presented Smalcald.
himself to the congress of Protestant princes at
Smalcald. Much of his address was devoted to a vindication of his master
from the charge of cruelty to persons of the same religious faith as that of
the hearers. The envoy insisted that the Germans had been misinformed: If
Francis had executed some of his subjects, he had not thereby injured the
Protestants. The culprits professed very different doctrines. The creed of the
Germans had been adopted by common consent. Francis admitted, indeed,
that there were some useless and superfluous ceremonies in the church, but
could not assent to their indiscriminate abrogation unless by public decree.
Ought not the Protestant princes to ascribe to their friend, the French king,
motives as pure and satisfactory as those that impelled them to crush the
sedition of the peasants and repress the Anabaptists? As for himself,
Francis, although mild and humane, both from native temperament and by
education, had seen himself compelled, by stern necessity and the dictates
of prudence, to check the promptings of his own heart, and assume for a
time attributes foreign to his proper disposition. For gladly as he listened to
the temperate discussion of any subject, he was justly offended at the
presumption of rash innovators, men that refused to submit to the judgment
of those whose prerogative it was to decide in such matters as were now
under consideration.

Not content with general assurances, Du Bellay, in a
private interview with Brück, Melanchthon, and other He makes, in the
name of Francis, a
German theologians, ventured upon an exposition of Protestant
Francis's creed which we fear would have horrified confession.
beyond measure the orthodox doctors of the Sorbonne.
[379]
He informed them, with a very sober face, that the king's religious
belief differed little from that expressed in Melanchthon's "Common
Places." His theologians had never been able to convince him that the
Pope's primacy was of divine right. Nor had they proved to his satisfaction
the existence of purgatory, which, being the source of their lucrative masses
and legacies, they prized as their very life and blood. He was inclined to
limit the assumption of monastic vows to persons of mature age, and to give
monks and nuns the right of renouncing their profession and marrying. He
favored the conversion of monasteries into seminaries of learning. While
the French theologians insisted upon the celibacy of the priesthood, for
himself he would suggest the middle ground of permitting such priests as
had already married to retain their wives, while prohibiting others from
following their example, unless they resigned the sacerdotal office. He
would have the sacramental cup administered to the laity when desired, and
hoped to obtain the Pope's consent. He even admitted the necessity of
reform in some of the daily prayers, and reprehended the want of
moderation exhibited by the Sorbonne, which not only condemned the
Germans, but would not hesitate on occasion to censure the cardinals or the
Holy Pontiff himself.
We cannot find that Du Bellay's honeyed words
produced any very deep impression. Princes and The Germans are
not deceived.
theologians knew tolerably well both how sincere was
the king's profession of friendliness to the "Lutheran" tenets, and what was
the truth respecting the persecution that had raged for months within his
dominions. The western breezes came freighted with the fetid smoke of
human holocausts, and not even the perfume of Francis's delicately scented
speeches could banish the disgust caused by the nauseating sacrifice. The
princes might listen with studied politeness to the king's apologetic words,
and assent to the general truth that sedition should be punished by severity;
but they took the liberty, at the same time, to express a fervent prayer that
the advocates of a reformed religion and a pure gospel might not be

involved in the fate of the unruly. And they disappointed the monarch by
absolutely declining to enter into any alliance against the Emperor Charles
the Fifth. The French ambassador returned home, and Francis so
dexterously threw aside the mask of pretended favor to a moderate
reformation in the church, that it soon became a disputed question whether
he had ever assumed it at all.[380]
Meantime the French Protestants were unremitting in
their efforts to obtain a more satisfactory solution of the Efforts of the
French Protestants
religious question than was contained in the Declaration in Switzerland and
of Coucy. They wrote to Strasbourg, to Berne, to Zurich, Germany.
to Basle, imploring the intercession of these states.
Particular attention was drawn to the severe treatment endured by their
brethren in Provence and Dauphiny. The writers declared themselves to be
not rebels, but the most loyal of subjects, recognizing one God, one faith,
one law, and one king. They were not "Lutherans," nor "Waldenses," nor
"heretics;" but simply Christians, accepting the Decalogue, the Apostles'
Creed, and every doctrine taught in either Testament. It was unreasonable
that they should be compelled by fines, imprisonment, or bodily pains, to
abjure their faith, unless their errors were first proved from the Bible, or
before the convocation of a General Council.[381]
The Swiss and Germans made a prompt response. The
Senate of Strasbourg addressed Francis, praising his An appeal from
Strasbourg and
clemency, but calling his attention to the danger all good Zurich.
men were exposed to. "If but a single little word escape
the mouth of good Christian men, directed against the most manifest
abuses, nay, against the flagitious crimes of those who are regarded as
ecclesiastics, how easy will it be, inasmuch as these very ecclesiastics are
their judges, to cry out that words have been spoken to the injury of the true
faith, the Church of God, and its traditions?"[382]
Zurich, going even further, made the direct request of its royal ally, that
hereafter all persons accused of holding heretical views should be permitted
by his Majesty to clear themselves by an appeal to the pure Word of God,
and no longer be subjected without a hearing to torture and manifold
punishments.[383] Berne and Basle remonstrated with similar urgency.

Receiving no reply to their appeal, in consequence of the
king's attention being engrossed by the war then in An embassy
receives an
progress with the emperor, and by reason of the unsatisfactory reply.
dauphin's unexpected death, the same cantons and
Strasbourg, a few months later, were induced to send a formal embassy.
But, if the envoys were fed with gracious words, they obtained no real
concession. Francis assured the Bernese and their confederates that "it was,
as they well knew, only for love of them that he had enlarged the provisions
of his gracious Edict of Coucy, by lately[384] extending pardon to all exiles
and fugitives"—that is, "Sacramentarians" and "relapsed" persons included.
This, it seemed to him, "ought to satisfy them entirely."[385] It was a polite,
but none the less a very positive refusal to entertain the suggestion that the
abjuration of their previous "errors" should no longer be required of all who
wished to avail themselves of the amnesty. Nor did it escape notice as a
significant circumstance, that Francis selected for his mouth-piece, not the
friendly Queen of Navarre, but the rough and bigoted Grand-Maître—Anne
de Montmorency, the future Constable of France.[386]

CHAPTER VI.
CALVIN AND GENEVA.—MORE SYSTEMATIC
PERSECUTION BY THE KING.

In the initial stage of great enterprises a point may
sometimes be distinguished at which circumstances, in The placards of
1534 mark an epoch
themselves trivial, have shaped the entire future. Such a in the history of the
point in the history of the Huguenots is marked by the Huguenots.
appearance of the "Placards" of 1534. The pusillanimous
retreat of Bishop Briçonnet from the advanced post he had at first assumed,
robbed Protestantism of an important advantage which might have been
retained had the prelate proved true to his convictions. But the "Placards,"
with their stern and uncompromising logic, their biting sarcasm, their
unbridled invective, directed equally against the absurdities of the mass and
the inconsistencies of its advocates, exerted a far more lasting and powerful
influence than even the lamentable defection of the Bishop of Meaux. Until
now the attitude of Francis with respect to the "new doctrines" had been
uncertain and wavering. It was by no means impossible that, imitating the
example of the Elector of Saxony, the French monarch should even yet put
himself at the head of the movement. Severe persecution had, indeed,
dogged the steps of the Reformation. Fire and gibbet had been mercilessly
employed to destroy it. The squares of Paris had already had the baptism of
blood. But the cruelties complained of by the "Lutherans," if tolerated by
Francis, had their origin in the bigotry of others. The Sorbonne and the
Parisian Parliament, Chancellor Duprat and the queen mother, Louise of
Savoie, are entitled to the unenviable distinction of having instigated the
sanguinary measures of repression directed against the professors of the
Protestant faith, of which we have already met with many fruits. The
monarch, greedy of glory, ambitious of association with cultivated minds,
and aspiring to the honor of ushering in the new Augustan age, more than
once seemed half-inclined to embrace those religious views which
commended themselves to his taste by association with the fresh and
glowing ideas of the great masters in science and art. More than once had

the champions of the Church trembled for their hold upon the sceptre-
bearing arm; while as often their opponents, with Francis's own sister, had
cherished illusory hopes that the eloquent addresses of Roussel and other
court-preachers had left a deep impress on the king's heart.

But the "Placards" effectually dissipated alike these
hopes and these fears. There was no longer any question The orthodoxy of
as to the orthodoxy of Francis. Apologists for the Francis no longer
questioned.
Reformation might seek to undeceive his mind and
remove his prejudices. His own emissaries might endeavor to persuade the
Germans, of whose alliance he stood in need, that his views differed little
from theirs. But there can be no doubt that, whatever his previous intentions
had been, from this time forth his resolution was taken, to use his own
expression already brought to the reader's notice, to live and die in Mother
Holy Church, and demonstrate the justice of his claim to the title of "very
Christian." The audacity of the Protestant enthusiast who penetrated even
into the innermost recesses of the royal castle, and affixed the placards to the
very chamber door of the king, was turned to good account by Cardinal
Tournon and other courtiers of like sentiments, and was adduced as a proof
of the assertion so often reiterated, that a change of religion necessarily
involved also a revolution in the State. The free tone of the placards seemed
to reveal a contemptuous disregard of dignities. The ridicule cast upon the
doctrine of transubstantiation was an assault on one of the few dogmas
respecting which Francis had implicit confidence in the teachings of the
Church. Henceforth the king figures on the page of history as a determined
opponent and persecutor of the Reformation, less hostile, indeed, to the
"Lutherans," than to the "Sacramentarians," or "Zwinglians," but
nevertheless an avowed enemy of innovation. The change was recognized
and deplored by the Reformers themselves; who, seeing Francis in the last
years of his reign give the rein to shameful debauchery, and meantime suffer
the public prisons to overflow with hundreds of innocent men and women,
awaiting punishment for no other offence than their religious faith, pointedly
compared him to the effeminate Sardanapalus surrounded by his courtezans.
[387]

While so marked a change came over the disposition of
the king, it is not strange that a similar revolution was Change in the
courtiers.
noticed in the sentiments of the courtiers—a class ever
on the alert to detect the slightest variation in the breeze to which they trim
their sails. The greater part of the high dignitaries, the early historian of the
reformed churches informs us, adapting themselves to the king's humor,
abandoned the study of the Bible, and in time became violent opponents of

practices which they had sanctioned by their own example. Even Margaret
of Navarre is accused by the same authority—and he honestly represents the
belief of the contemporary reformers—of having yielded to these seductive
influences. She plunged, like the rest, he tells us, into conformity with the
most reprehensible superstitions; not that she approved them, but because
Gérard Roussel and similar teachers persuaded her that they were things
indifferent. Thus, allowing herself to trifle with truth, she was so blinded by
the spirit of error as to offer an asylum in her court of Nérac to Quintin and
Pocques, blasphemous "Libertines" whose doctrines called forth a refutation
from the pen of Calvin.[388]
The French Reformation was thus constrained to become
a popular movement. The king had refused to lead it. The The French
Reformation
nobles turned their backs upon it. Its adherents, becomes a popular
threatened with the gallows and stake, or driven into movement.
banishment, could no longer look for encouragement or
direction toward Paris and the vicinage of the court. The Geneva the centre
timid counsels of the high-born were to be exchanged for of activity.
the bold and fiery words of reformers sprung from the
people. Excluded from the luxurious capital, the Huguenots were, during a
long series of years, to draw their inspiration from a city at the foot of the
Alps—a city whose invigorating climate was no less adapted to harden the
intellectual and moral constitution than the bodily frame, and where rugged
Nature, if she bestowed wealth with no lavish hand, manifested her
impartiality by more liberal endowments conferred upon man himself.
Geneva henceforth becomes the centre of reformatory activity, of which fact
we need no stronger evidence than the severe legislation of France to destroy
its influence; and the same causes that gave the direction of the movement to
the people shaped its theological tendencies. Under the guidance of Francis
and Margaret, it must have assumed much of the German or Lutheran type;
or, to speak more correctly, the direct influence of Germany upon France,
attested by the name of "Lutherans," up to this time the ordinary appellation
of the French Protestants, would have been rendered permanent. But now the
persecution they had experienced, in consequence of their opposition to the
papal mass, confirmed the French reformers in their previous views, and
disinclined them to admit even such a "consubstantiation" as Luther's
followers insisted upon.

The same complicated political motives that led Francis
to relax his excessive rigor against the Protestants of his Geneva secures its
realm, in order to avoid provoking the anger of the independence.
German princes, prompted him to assist in securing the independence of
Geneva, which, at the time, he little dreamed would so soon become the
citadel of French Protestantism. After a prolonged contest, the city on the
banks of the Rhône had shaken off the yoke of its bishop, and had bravely
repelled successive assaults made by the Duke of Savoy. The first preachers
of the Reformation, Farel and Froment, after a series of attempts and rebuffs
for romantic interest inferior to no other episode in an age of stirring
adventure, had seen the new worship accepted by the majority of the people,
and by the very advocates of the old system, Caroli and Chapuis. If the grand
council had thus far hesitated to give a formal sanction to the religious
change, it was only through fear that the taking of so decided a step might
provoke more powerful enemies than the neighboring duke. The latter, being
fully resolved to humble the insubordinate burgesses, had for two years been
striving to cut off their supplies by garrisons maintained in adjoining castles
and strongholds; nor would his plans, perhaps, have failed, but for the
intervention of two powerful opponents—Francis and the Swiss Canton of
Berne.
Louise de Savoie was the sister of Duke Charles. Her son
had a double cause of resentment against his uncle: with the assistance
Charles had refused him free passage through his of Francis I.
dominions, when marching against the Milanese; and, contrary to all justice,
he persistently refused to give up the marriage portion of his sister, the king's
mother. Francis avenged himself, both for the insult and for the robbery, by
permitting a gentleman of his bedchamber, by the name of De Verez, a
native of Savoy, to throw himself into the beleaguered city with a body of
French soldiers.
While Geneva was thus strengthened from within, the
Bernese, on receipt of an unsatisfactory reply to an and the Bernese.
appeal in behalf of their allies, came to their assistance
with an army of ten or twelve thousand men. Discouraged by the threatening
aspect his affairs had assumed, Charles relaxed his grasp on the throat of his
revolted subjects, and withdrew to a safe distance. His obstinacy, however,
cost him the permanent loss not only of Geneva, but of a considerable part of

his most valuable territories, including the Pays de Vaud—a district which,
after remaining for more than two hundred and fifty years a dependency of
Berne, has within the present century (in 1803), become an independent
canton of the Swiss confederacy.[389]
The horrible slanders put in circulation abroad, in
justification of the atrocities with which the unoffending Calvin the apologist
of the Protestants.
Protestants of France were visited, furnished the motive
for the composition and publication of an apology that instantly achieved
unprecedented celebrity, and has long outlived the occasion that gave it
birth. The apology was the "Institutes;" the author, John Calvin. With the
appearance of his masterpiece, a great writer and theologian, destined to
exercise a wide and lasting influence not only upon France, but over the
entire intellectual world, enters upon the stage of French history to take a
leading part in the unfolding religious and political drama.
John Calvin was born on the tenth of July, 1509, at
Noyon, a small but ancient city of Picardy. His family His birth and
training.
was of limited means, but of honorable extraction.
Gérard Cauvin, his father, had successively held
important offices in connection with the episcopal see. Studies at Paris;
As a man of clear and sound judgment, he was sought for
his counsel by the gentry and nobility of the province—a also at Orleans and
Bourges.
circumstance that rendered it easy for him to give to his
son a more liberal course of instruction than generally fell to the lot of
commoners. It is not denied by Calvin's most bitter enemies that he early
manifested striking ability. In selecting for him one of the learned
professions, his father naturally preferred the church, as that in which he
could most readily secure for his son speedy promotion. It may serve to
illustrate the degree of respect at this time paid to the prescriptions of canon
law, to note that Charles de Hangest, Bishop of Noyon, conferred on John
Calvin the Chapelle de la Gésine, with revenues sufficient for his
maintenance, when the boy was but just twelve years of age! Such abuses as
the gift of ecclesiastical benefices to beardless youths, however, were of too
frequent occurrence to attract special notice or call forth unfriendly criticism.
With the same easy disregard of churchly order the chapter of the cathedral
of Noyon permitted Calvin, two years later, to go to Paris, for the purpose of
continuing his studies, without loss of income; although, to save

appearances, a pretext was found in the prevalence of some contagious
disease in Picardy. Not long after, his father perceiving the singular
proficiency he manifested, determined to alter his plans, and devoted his son
to the more promising department of the law, a decision in which Calvin
himself, already conscious of secret aversion for the superstitions of the
papal system, seems dutifully to have acquiesced. To a friend and near
relation, Pierre Robert Olivetanus, the future translator of the Bible, he
probably owed both the first impulse toward legal studies and the enkindling
of his interest in the Sacred Scriptures. Proceeding next to Orleans, in the
university of which the celebrated Pierre de l'Étoile, afterward President of
the Parliament of Paris, was lecturing on law with great applause, Calvin in a
short time achieved distinction. Marvellous stories were told of his rapid
mastery of his subject. Not only did he occasionally fill the chair of an
absent professor, and himself lecture, to the great admiration of the classes,
but he was offered the formal rank of the doctorate without payment of the
customary fees. Declining an honorable distinction which would have
interfered with his plan of perfecting himself elsewhere, he subsequently
visited the University of Bourges, in order to enjoy the rare advantage of
listening to Andrea Alciati, of Milan, reputed the most learned and eloquent
legal instructor of the age.
Meanwhile, however, Calvin's interest in biblical study
had been steadily growing, and at Bourges that great His studies under
intellectual and religious change appears to have been Wolmar.
effected which was essential to his future success as a reformer. He attached
himself to Melchior Wolmar, a distinguished professor of Greek, who had
brought with him from Germany a fervent zeal for the Protestant doctrines.
Wolmar, reading in the young law student the brilliant abilities that were one
day to make his name illustrious, prevailed upon him to devote himself to
the study of the New Testament in the original. Day and night were spent in
the engrossing pursuit, and here were laid the foundations of that profound
biblical erudition which, at a later date, amazed the world, as well,
unfortunately, as of that feeble bodily health that embittered all Calvin's
subsequent life with the most severe and painful maladies, and abridged in
years an existence crowded with great deeds.
The illness and death of his father called Calvin back to
Noyon,[390] but in 1529 we find him again in Paris, Translates Seneca

where three years later he published his first literary "De Clementia."
effort. This was a commentary on the two books of
Seneca, "De Clementia," originally addressed to the Emperor Nero. The
opinion has long prevailed that it was no casual selection of a theme, but that
Calvin had conceived the hope of mitigating hereby the severity of the
persecution then raging. The author's own correspondence, however, betrays
less anxiety for the attainment of that lofty aim, than nervous uneasiness
respecting the literary success of his first venture. Indeed, this is not the only
indication that, while Calvin was already, in 1532, an accomplished scholar,
he was scarcely as yet a reformer, and that the stories of his activity before
this time as a leader and religious teacher, at Paris and even at Bourges,
deserve only to be classed with the questionable myths obscuring much of
his history up to the time of his appearance at Geneva.[391]
The incident that occasioned Calvin's flight from Paris
was narrated in a previous chapter. Escaping from the Calvin's escape
from Paris to
officers sent to apprehend him as the real author of the Angoulême.
inaugural address of the rector, Nicholas Cop, Calvin
found safety and scholastic leisure in the house of his friend Louis du Tillet,
at Angoulême. If we could believe the accounts of later writers, we should
imagine the young scholar dividing his time in this retreat between the
preparation of his "Institutes" and systematic labors for the conversion of the
inhabitants of the south-west of France. Tradition still points out the grottos
in the vicinity of Poitiers, where, during a residence in that city, Calvin is
said to have exclaimed, pointing to the Bible lying open before him: "Here is
my mass;" and then, with uncovered head and eyes turned toward heaven,
"Lord, if at the judgment-day thou shalt reprove me because I have
abandoned the mass, I shall reply with justice, 'Lord, thou hast not
commanded it. Here is thy law. Here are the Scriptures, the rule thou hast
given me, wherein I have been unable to find any other sacrifice than that
which was offered upon the altar of the cross!'"[392]
The caverns bearing Calvin's name may never have
witnessed his preaching, and the address ascribed to him He resigns his
benefices.
rests on insufficient authority;[393] but it is certain that the
future reformer about this time took his first decided step
in renouncing connection with the Roman Church, by He reaches Basle.
resigning his benefices, the revenues of which he had enjoyed, although

precluded by his youth from receiving ordination.[394] Not many months
later, finding himself solicited on all sides to take an active part as a teacher
of the little companies of Protestants arising in different cities of France, he
resolved to leave France and court elsewhere obscurity and leisure to
prosecute undisturbed his favorite studies.[395] Accordingly, we find him,
after a brief visit to Paris and Orleans, reaching the city of Basle, apparently
toward the close of the year 1534.[396]
It was here that Calvin appears to have conceived for the
first time the purpose of giving a practical aim to the Apologetic
character given to
great work upon the composition of which he had been his great work.
some time busy. In spite of his professions of unsullied
honor, Francis the First had not hesitated to disseminate, by means of his
agents beyond the Rhine, the most unfounded and injurious reports
respecting his Protestant subjects. It was time that these aspersions should be
cleared away, and an attempt be made to touch the heart of the persecuting
monarch with compassion for the unoffending objects of his blind fury. Such
was the object Calvin set before himself in a preface to the first edition of
the "Institutes," addressed "To the Very Christian King of France."[397] It was
a document of rare importance.
He briefly explained the original design of his work to be
the instruction of his countrymen, whom he knew to be The preface to the
"Christian
hungering and thirsting for the truth. But the persecutions Institutes."
that had arisen and that left no place for sound doctrine in
France induced him to make the attempt at the same time Eloquent peroration.
to acquaint the king with the real character of the
Protestants and their belief. He assured Francis that the book contained
nothing more nor less than the creed for the profession of which so many
Frenchmen were being visited with imprisonment, banishment, outlawry,
and even fire, and which it was sought to exterminate from the earth. He
drew a fearful picture of the calumnies laid to the charge of this devoted
people, and of the wretched church of France, already half destroyed, yet
still a butt for the rage of its enemies. It was the part of a true king, as the
vicegerent of God, to administer justice in a cause so worthy of his
consideration. Nor ought the humble condition of the oppressed to indispose
him to grant them a hearing; for the doctrine they professed was not their
own, but that of the Almighty himself. He boldly contrasted the evangelical

with the papal church, and refuted the objections urged against the former.
He defended its doctrine from the charge of novelty, denied that miracles—
especially such lying wonders as those of Rome—were necessary in
confirmation of its truth, and showed that the ancient Fathers, far from
countenancing, on the contrary, condemned the superstitions of the day. He
refuted the charge that Protestants forsook old customs when good, or
abandoned the only visible church; and in a masterly manner vindicated the
Reformation from the oft-repeated charge of being the cause of sedition,
conflict, and confusion. He begged for a fair and impartial hearing. "But," he
exclaimed in concluding, "if the suggestions of the malevolent so fill your
ears as to leave no room for the reply of the accused, and those importunate
furies continue, with your consent, to rage with bonds and stripes, with
torture, confiscation, and fire, then shall we yield ourselves up as sheep
appointed for slaughter, yet so as to possess our souls in patience, and await
the mighty hand of God, which will assuredly be revealed in good time, and
be stretched forth armed for the deliverance of the poor from their affliction,
and for the punishment of the blasphemers now exulting in confidence of
safety. May the Lord of Hosts, illustrious king, establish your seat in
righteousness and your throne with equity."[398]
The learned theologian's eloquent appeal failed to
accomplish its end. If Francis ever received, he probably Has no effect in
allaying
disdained to read even the dedication, classed by persecution.
competent critics among the best specimens of writing in
the French language,[399] and must have regarded the Calvin achieves
volume to which it was prefixed as a bold vindication of distinction.
heresy, and scarcely less insulting to his majesty than the
placards themselves. Others, better capable of forming a competent
judgment, or more willing to give it a dispassionate examination, applauded
the success of a hazardous undertaking that might have appalled even a more
experienced writer than the French exile of Noyon. The Institutes gave to a
young man, who had scarcely attained the age at which men of mark usually
begin to occupy themselves with important enterprises, the reputation of
being the foremost theologian of the age.
Other studies invited Calvin's attention. Not content with
perfecting himself in the original languages of the Holy He revises the Bible
of Olivetanus.
Scriptures, he revised with care the French Protestant

Bible, translated by his relation Olivetanus, of which we shall have occasion
to speak in another chapter. Meanwhile, in an age of intense mental and
moral awakening, no scholastic repose, such as he had pictured to himself,
awaited one who had made good his right to a foremost rank among the
athletes in the intellectual arena.
Before his unexpected call to a life of unremitting
conflict, Calvin visited Italy. In the entire absence of any Visits Italy.
trustworthy statement of the occasion of this journey, it is
almost idle to speculate on the objects he had in view.[400] Certain, however,
it is that the court of the Duchess Renée, at Ferrara, offered to a patriotic
Frenchman attractions hard to be resisted.
The younger daughter of Louis the Twelfth resembled
her father not less in character than in appearance and The court of Renée
de France.
speech.[401] Cut off by the pretended Salic law from the
prospect of ascending the throne, she had in her
childhood been thrown as a straw upon the variable tide Brantôme's
of Renée.
eulogy

of fortune. After having been promised in marriage to
Charles of Spain, heir to the most extensive and opulent dominions the sun
shone upon, and future Emperor of Germany, she had (1528) been given in
marriage to the ruler of a petty Italian duchy, himself as inferior to her in
mind as in moral character.[402] As for Renée, if her face was homely and
unprepossessing, her intellect was vigorous. She had turned to good account
the opportunities for self-improvement afforded by her high rank. Admiring
courtiers made her classical and philosophical attainments the subject of
lavish panegyric, perhaps with a better basis of fact than in the case of many
other princes of the time; while with the French, her countrymen, the
generous hospitality she dispensed won for her unfading laurels. "Never was
there a Frenchman," writes the Abbé de Brantôme, "who passing through
Ferrara applied to her in his distress and was suffered to depart without
receiving ample assistance to reach his native land and home. If he were
unable to travel through illness, she had him cared for and treated with the
utmost solicitude, and then gave him money to continue his journey."[403]
Ten thousand poor Frenchmen are said to have been saved by her munificent
charity, on the occasion of the recall of the Duke of Guise, after Constable
Montmorency's disastrous defeat at St. Quentin. Her answer to the
remonstrance of her servants against this excessive drain upon her slender

resources bore witness at once to the sincerity of her patriotism and to a
virile spirit which no Salic law could extinguish.[404]
The brief stay of Calvin at Ferrara is involved in the same obscurity that
attends his motives in visiting Italy. But it is known that he exerted at this
time a marked influence not only on others,[405] but on Renée de France
herself, who, from this period forward, appears in the character of an
avowed friend of the reformatory movement. Calvin had from prudence
assumed the title of Charles d'Espeville, and this name was retained as a
signature in his subsequent correspondence with the duchess.
A point so close to the centre of the Roman Catholic
world as Ferrara could scarcely afford safety to an ardent Calvin leaves
reformer, even if the fame of his "Institutes" had not yet Ferrara.
reached Rome; and Ercole the Second was too dependent upon the Holy See
to shrink from sacrificing the guest his wife had invited to the palace.
Returning, therefore, from Ferrara, without apparently pursuing his journey
to Rome or even to Florence, Calvin retraced his steps and took refuge
beyond the Alps. Possibly he may have stopped on the way in the valley of
Aosta, and displayed a missionary activity, which has been denied by several
modern critics, but is attested by local monuments and tradition, and has
some support in contemporary documents.[406]
Once more in Basle, Calvin resolved, after a final visit to
the home of his childhood, to seek out some quiet spot in Revisits France.
Germany, there to give himself up to those scholarly
labors which he fancied would be more profitable to Is recognized while
France than the most active enterprises he might engage passing
Geneva.
through

in as a preacher of the Gospel. He had accomplished the
first part of his design, had disposed of his property in
Farel compels him
Noyon, and was returning with his brother and sister, to remain.
when the prevalence of war in the Duchy of Lorraine led
him to diverge from his most direct route, so as to traverse the dominions of
the Duke of Savoy and the territories of the confederate cantons of
Switzerland. Under these circumstances, for the first time, he entered the city
of Geneva, then but recently delivered from the yoke of its bishop and of the
Roman Church. He had intended to spend there only a single night.[407] He
was accidentally recognized by an old friend, a Frenchman, who at the time

professed the reformed faith, but subsequently returned to the communion of
the Church of Rome.[408] Du Tillet was the only person in Geneva that
detected in the traveller, Charles d'Espeville, the John Calvin who had
written the "Institutes." He confided the secret to Farel, and the intrepid
reformer whose office it had hitherto been to demolish, by unsparing and
persistent blows, the popular structure of superstition, at once concluded
that, in answer to his prayers, a man had been sent him by God capable of
laying, amid the ruins, the foundations of a new and more perfect fabric.
Farel sought Calvin out, and laid before him the urgent necessities of a
church founded in a city where, under priestly rule, disorder and corruption
had long been rampant. At first his words made no impression. Calvin had
traced out for himself a very different course, and was little inclined to
exchange a life of study for the perpetual struggles to which he was so
unexpectedly summoned. But when he met Farel's request with a positive
refusal, pleading inexperience, fondness for literary pursuits, and aversion to
scenes of tumult and confusion, the Genevese reformer assumed a more
decided tone. Acting under an impulse for which he could scarcely account
himself, Farel solemnly prayed that the curse of God might descend on
Calvin's leisure and studies, if purchased at the price of neglecting the duty
to which the voice of the Almighty Himself, by His providence, distinctly
called him.[409]
The amazed and terrified student felt—to use his own expression—that God
had stretched forth His arm from heaven and laid violent hold upon him,
rendering all further resistance impossible. He yielded to the unwelcome
call, and became the first theological professor of Geneva. Somewhat later
he was prevailed upon to add to his functions the duties of one of the pastors
of the city.
If the scene impressed itself ineffaceably on the memory
or one of the principal actors, its effect, we may be sure, Farel's own
was no less lasting in the case of the other. More than a recollections.
quarter of a century after, Farel, on receiving the announcement that his
worst apprehensions had been realized, in the death of his "so dear and
necessary brother Calvin," wrote to a friend a touching letter, in which he
referred in a few sentences to the same striking interview. "Oh, why am not I
taken away in his stead, and why is not he, so useful, so serviceable, here in
health, to minister long to the churches of our Lord! To Whom be blessing

and praise, that, of His grace, He made me fall in with him where I had
never expected to meet him, and, contrary to his own plans, compelled him
to stop at Geneva, and made use of him there and elsewhere! For he was
urged on one side and another more than could be told, and specially by me,
who, in God's name, urged him to undertake matters that were harder than
death. And albeit he begged me several times, in the name of God, to have
mercy on him and suffer him to serve God in other ways, as he has always
thus occupied himself, nevertheless, seeing that what I asked was in
accordance with God's will, in doing himself violence he has done more and
more promptly than any one else has done, surpassing not only others, but
himself. Oh, how happily has he run an excellent race!"[410]
For twenty-eight years the name of Calvin was
inseparably associated with that of the city which owes Calvin becomes the
head of the
its chief renown to his connection with it. Excepting the commonwealth.
three years of exile, from 1538 to 1541, occasioned by a
powerful reaction against his rigid system of public His view respecting
morality, he was, during the whole of this period, the church and state,
recognized head of the Genevese commonwealth. A
complete mastery of the principles of law, acquired by and the punishment
indefatigable study at Orleans and Bourges, before the of heresy.
loftier teachings of theology engrossed his time and
faculties, qualified him to draw up a code to regulate the affairs of his
adopted country. If its detailed prohibitions and almost Draconian severity
are repugnant to the spirit of the present age, the general wisdom of the
legislator is vindicated by the circumstance that he transformed a city noted
for the prevalence of every form of turbulence and immorality into the most
orderly republic of Christendom. Few, it is true, will be found to defend the
theory respecting the duty of the state toward the church in which Calvin
acquiesced. But the cruel deaths of Gruet and Servetus were only the
legitimate fruits of the doctrine that the civil authority is both empowered
and bound to exercise vigilant supervision over the purity of the church. In
this doctrine the reformers of the sixteenth century were firm believers. They
held, as John Huss had held a hundred years before, that Truth could
appropriately appeal for support to physical force, under circumstances that
would by no means have justified a similar resort on the part of Error. The
consistent language of their lives was, "If we speak not the truth, we refuse
not to die." "If the Pope condemns the pious for heresy, and furious judges

unjustly execute on the innocent the penalty due to heretics, what madness is
it thence to infer that heretics ought not to be destroyed for the purpose of
aiding the pious! As for myself, since I read that Paul said that he did not
refuse death if he had done anything to deserve it, I openly offered myself
frequently prepared to undergo sentence of death, if I had taught anything
contrary to the doctrine of piety. And I added, that I was most worthy of any
punishment imaginable, if I seduced any one from the faith and doctrine of
Christ. Assuredly I cannot have a different view with regard to others from
that which I entertain respecting myself."[411] So wrote Farel, and almost all
his contemporaries agreed with him. And thus it happened that the
conscientious Calvin and the polished Beza were at the pains of writing long
treatises, to prove that "heretics are justly to be constrained by the sword,"
[412]
almost at the very moment when they were begging the Bernese to
intercede with their ally, King Henry the Second, of France, in behalf of the
poor Protestants languishing in the dungeons of Lyons, or writing
consolatory letters to Peloquin and De Marsac, destined to suffer death in the
flames not many days before the execution of the Spanish physician at
Geneva.[413]
In truth, however, it was less Calvin than the age in
which he lived that must be held responsible for the His fault the fault of
the age.
crime against humanity with which his name has come to
be popularly associated. He did, indeed, desire and urge that Servetus should
be punished capitally, although he made an earnest but unsuccessful effort to
induce the magistrates to mitigate the severity of the sentence, by the
substitution of some more merciful mode of execution.[414] But the other
principal reformers of Germany and Switzerland—Melanchthon, Haller,
Peter Martyr, and Bullinger gave their hearty endorsement to the cruel act;
[415]
while if any further proof were needed to attest the sincerity and
universality of approval accorded to it, it is afforded by the last letters of the
brave men who were themselves awaiting at Chambéry, a few mouths later,
death by the same excruciating fate as that which befell Servetus at Geneva.
[416]

The prominence obtained by Calvin as chief theologian
and pastor of the church of Geneva, however, was Calvin shuns
notoriety.
foreign to his tastes. He was by preference a scholar,
averse to notoriety, fond of retirement, and, if we are to believe his own

judgment, timid and even pusillanimous by nature.[417] He had in vain
sought seclusion in France. From Basle and Strasbourg he made a hasty
retreat in order to preserve his incognito, and avoid the fame the Institutes
were likely to earn for him.[418] Only Farel's adjuration detained him in
Geneva, and he subsequently confessed that his fortitude was not so great
but that he rejoiced even more than was meet when the turbulent Genevese
expelled him from their city.[419] But not even then was he able to secure the
coveted quiet, for Martin Bucer was not slow in imitating the urgency of
Farel, and employed the warning example of the prophet Jonah seeking to
flee from the will of the Almighty, to induce him to employ himself in the
organization and administration of the French church at Strasbourg.[420] Not
less decided was Calvin's reluctance to accede to the repeated invitations of
the council and people of Geneva, that he should return and resume his
former position.
Such was the man who was called to take the reins of the
spiritual direction, not only of a single small city, but of a His character and
natural
large body of earnest thinkers throughout France, and endowments.
even to distant parts of Christendom—a man of stern and
uncompromising devotion to that system which he He is consulted by
believed to be truth; of slender imagination, but of a Protestants in every
memory prodigious in its grasp, of an understanding quarter of Europe.
wonderfully acute, and of a power of exposition and
expression unsurpassed by that possessed by any writer among his
contemporaries. His constitution, naturally weak, had been still further
enfeebled by excessive application to study. In his letters there are frequent
references to the interruptions occasioned by violent pains in his head, often
compelling him to stop many times in the writing of a single letter.[421] His
strength was taxed to the utmost by the unremitting toil incident to his
multifarious occupations. The very recital of his labors fills us with
amazement. He preached twice every Sunday, besides frequent sermons on
other days. He lectured three times a week on theology. He made addresses
in the consistory, and delivered a lecture every Friday in the conference on
the Scriptures known as the "Congrégation." To these public burdens must
be added others imposed upon him by his wide reputation. From all parts of
the Protestant world, but especially from every spot in France where the
Reformation had gained a foothold, the opinion of Calvin was eagerly

sought on various points of doctrine and ecclesiastical practice. To Geneva,
and especially to Calvin, the obscure and persecuted adherents of the same
faith, not less than the most illustrious of the Protestant nobility, looked for
counsel and direction. Under his guidance that system was adopted for
supplying France with ministers of the Gospel which led the Venetian
ambassador, near the end of the great reformer's life, to describe Geneva as
the mine from which the ore of heresy was extracted.[422] How faithfully he
discharged the trust committed to him is sufficiently attested by a
voluminous correspondence, some portions of which have escaped the wreck
of time; while the steady advance of the doctrines he advocated is an
enduring monument to the zeal and sagacity of his exertions.
In his arduous undertaking, however, Calvin had to
encounter no little opposition in the very city of Geneva. Meets with bitter
opposition,
It was this, even more than bodily infirmity, that bore
severely upon his spirits, and robbed him of the rest
demanded alike by his overtaxed body and mind. His but obtains the
support of the
advocacy of strenuous discipline procured him relentless people.
enemies among the Genevese of the "Libertine" party.
Those were stormy times for Calvin, when, in derision of the student,
legislator, and theologian, deafening salutes were fired by night before his
doors, and when the dogs were set upon him in the streets.[423] But, when we
read of the violent antagonism elicited by the publication of the severe
provisions of the "Ordinances," regulating even the minor details of the life
of a Genevese citizen, it must not be forgotten that the unpopular system,
although devised by Calvin, was not imposed by him upon unwilling
subjects, but established by a free and decisive vote of the people, in the
exercise of its sovereignty, and influenced to its adoption by the same
considerations that had determined Calvin himself in devising it.[424]
Such a man could not fail to secure the respect of his
opponents, and the undisguised admiration of all who An estimate of
Calvin by Étienne
could regard his character and work with some degree of Pasquier.
impartiality. Among the most virtuous of his
contemporaries was the excellent Étienne Pasquier, who described him as he
appeared in the eyes of men of culture—men who, without forsaking the
Roman Catholic Church, were stanch friends of reform and of progress. "He
was a man," says Pasquier, "that wrote equally well in Latin and in French,

and to whom our French tongue is greatly indebted for having enriched it
with an infinite number of fine touches. It were my wish that it had been for
a better subject. He was a man, moreover, marvellously versed and nurtured
in the books of the Holy Scriptures, and such that, had he directed his mind
in the right way, he might have ranked with the most illustrious doctors of
the church. And, in the midst of his books and his studies, he was possessed
of the most active zeal for the progress of his sect. We sometimes saw our
prisons overflowing with poor, misled people, whom he unceasingly
exhorted, consoled, and comforted by his letters; and there were never
lacking messengers to whom the doors were open, in spite of any exertions
of the jailers to the contrary. Such were the methods by which he gained
over step by step a part of our France."[425]
The flames of the persecution kindled by the publication
of the placards continued to burn. From Paris, where Continued
persecution.
Laurent de la Croix fell a victim to the rage of the priests,
the conflagration spread to Essarts, in Poitou, where a
simple girl was consigned to the fire for reproving a The tongues of the
victims cut out, and
Franciscan monk; and to Macon, where an unlearned records burned.
peasant underwent a like punishment, amazing his judges
by the familiarity he displayed with the Bible. Agen, in Guyenne, and
Beaune, in Burgundy, witnessed similar scenes of atrocious cruelty; while at
Nonnay, André Berthelin was burned alive, because, when wending his way
to the great fair of Lyons, he refused to kneel down before one of the many
pictures or images set up by the roadside for popular adoration. At Rouen,
four brave reformers were thrown into a tumbril, reeking with filth, to be
drawn to the place of execution, one of them exclaiming with radiant
countenance: "Truly, as says the apostle, we are the offscouring of the earth,
and we now stink in the nostrils of the men of the world. But let us rejoice,
for the savor of our death will be a sweet savor unto God, and will profit our
brethren."[426] But the details of these executions are too horrible and too
similar to find a place here. Nor, indeed, would it be possible to frame a
complete statement of the case of each of the constant sufferers; for, from
this time forward, it became a favorite practice with those who presided over
these bloody assizes to cut out the tongues of their victims, lest their
eloquent appeals should shake the confidence of the spectators in the
established faith, and afterward to throw the official record of the trial of

Protestants into the fire that consumed their bodies, in order to prevent its
furnishing edifying material for the martyrology.[427]
But, as usual, persecution failed utterly of accomplishing
what had been expected of it. For a brief moment, Failure of
persecution.
indeed, Francis flattered himself that exemplary
punishments had purged his kingdom of the professors of the hated
doctrines.[428] But, in the course of a few years, he discovered that, in spite
of continued severities, the "new faith" had so spread—partly by means of
persons suffered to return, in virtue of the royal declaration of Coucy (on the
sixteenth of July, 1535), and partly through the teachings of others who lay
concealed during the first violence of the storm—that he had good reason to
fear that the last errors were worse than the first.[429] What rendered the
matter still more serious was the favor shown to the heretics by persons of
high rank and influence.[430]
With the view of employing still more rigid means for
the detection and punishment of the offenders, a fresh Edict of
Fontainebleau cuts
edict was published from Fontainebleau, on the first of off appeal, June 1,
June, 1540. In this long and sanguinary document the 1540.
monarch—or the Cardinal of Tournon, who enjoyed the
credit of a principal part in its preparation—enjoined upon the officers of all
the royal courts, whether judges of parliament, seneschals, or bailiffs, to
institute proceedings concurrently against all persons tainted with heresy. No
appeal was to be permitted to delay their action. The examination of the
suspected took precedence of all other cases. Tribunals of inferior
jurisdiction were instructed to send prisoners for heresy, together with the
record of their examination, to the sovereign courts of parliament, there to be
tried in the "Chambre criminelle." The appeal to the "Grand' chambre,"
customarily allowed to persons claiming immunity on account of order or
station, was expressly cut off, so as to render the course of justice more
expeditious. Negligent judges were threatened with suspension and removal
from office. The high vassals of the crown were ordered to lend to the royal
courts their counsel and assistance, and to surrender to them all offenders as
guilty of sedition and disturbance of the public peace—crimes of which the
king claimed exclusive cognizance. Ecclesiastics were exhorted to show
equal diligence in the prosecution of culprits that were in orders. In short,
every servant of the king was bidden to abstain from harboring or favoring

the "Lutherans," since the errors and false doctrines the latter disseminated,
it was said, contained within them the crime of treason against God and the
king, as well as of sedition and riot.[431] Every loyal subject must, therefore,
denounce the heretics and employ all means to extirpate them, just as all
men are bound to run to help in extinguishing a public conflagration.[432]
The last injunction was not altogether unnecessary. Even
among the judges of parliament there were fair-minded Exceptional fairness
persons not inclined to condemn accused men or books of President
Caillaud.
on mere report. The ambassador of Henry the Eighth
having, in 1538, denounced an English translation of the Holy Scriptures
that was in press at Paris, the chancellor commissioned President Caillaud to
investigate the case. The latter, finding that the printer's excuse was the
scarcity of paper in England, quietly set about a comparison of the suspected
version with accessible French translations. He said nothing to doctors of
theology or royal prosecuting officers. "It seemed to me," he reported, "quite
unnecessary to give the matter such notoriety. Moreover, I mistrusted that,
without further investigation, without even looking into it, they would have
condemned the English translation for the sole reason that it is in that
tongue. For I have seen them sustain that the Holy Scriptures ought not to be
translated into the French language or any other vernacular tongue.
Nevertheless, the Bible in French was printed in this city so long ago as in
1529, and again this present year, and is for sale by the most wealthy
printers. For my part I have seen no prohibition either by the church or by
the secular authority, although I once heard some decretal alleged in
condemnation." Unfortunately such judges as Louis Caillaud were rare—
men that would take the pains to obtain the services of a person acquainted
with the English language to translate aloud a Bible suspected of heretical
teachings, while themselves testing its accuracy by scanning versions made
from the Vulgate and the Hebrew original![433]
Two years more had scarcely passed before fresh
legislation against the Protestants demonstrated the Royal letters from
Lyons, Aug. 30,
impotence of all measures thus far resorted to. The 1542.
interval had certainly been improved by their enemies,
for the stake had its victims to boast of.[434] And yet the new religious body
had its ministers and its secret conventicles, with an ever increasing number
of adherents. Accordingly, on the thirtieth of August, 1542, Francis, then at

Lyons, addressed new letters patent to the various parliaments, enjoining
new vigilance and activity. Previous edicts had not borne all the fruit
expected from them; for there was still a bad seed of error and damnable
doctrines—so wrote the king—growing and multiplying from day to day. So
exemplary a punishment must, therefore, be inflicted, as might forever
terrify offenders.[435] The king even threatened delinquent prelates with
seizure of their temporalities, in case they failed to exercise due diligence in
so important a matter.[436]
King, bishops and parliaments were terribly in earnest.
All were agreed that Protestantism must and should be Audacity of the
crushed, however little they harmonized as to the reasons "Lutherans"
Bordeaux.
of

of its increase or the method of suppressing it. The
Archbishop of Bordeaux denounced to the parliament of Francis I. and the
that city the growing audacity of the "Lutherans" of his Sacramentarians.
diocese, who had even dared to preach their doctrines
publicly. He accounted for this disorder by the fact that the prosecution and
exemplary punishment of heretics had ceased to be the uniform rule; as if the
experience of the past score of years had not demonstrated the futility of
attempting to compel religious uniformity by the fear of human tribunals and
ignominious death. He therefore begged the parliament to spare neither him
nor his brother prelates in the matter of defraying the expense of bringing
"Lutherans" to trial and death. The secular judges were of the same mind
with the prelates, and both took new courage from a declaration of Francis
himself, which the archbishop had recently heard with his own ears at
Angoulême. In the presence of Cardinal Tournon and others, the king had
assured him that "he desired that no sacramentarian should be permitted to
abjure, but that all such heretics should be remorselessly put to death!"[437]
By such pitiless measures did Francis still think to establish his
unimpeachable loyalty to the doctrine of transubstantiation.
But, as ill success continued to attend every attempt to
crush the Reformation in France, it was necessary to find Royal ordinance of
Paris, July 23, 1543.
some plausible explanation of the failure. The
ecclesiastical counsellors of the king alleged that they discovered it in the
recent edicts themselves, which they represented as derogating from the
efficiency of both prelates and inquisitors of the faith. To meet this new
objection, Francis complaisantly published another ordinance (on the

twenty-third of July, 1543), carefully defining the respective provinces of the
lay and clerical judges. Prelates and inquisitors were authorized to proceed,
in accordance with canon law, to obtain information alike against clergymen
and laymen, in case of suspected heresy, and the secular judges were strictly
enjoined to afford them all needed assistance in execution of their writs of
summons and arrest. But all persons guilty of open heresy, and not actually
in holy orders, must be given over, together with the documents relating to
their offences, to the royal judges and to the courts of parliament, and by
them tried as seditious disturbers of the peace and tranquillity of the
commonwealth and of the king's subjects, secret conspirators against the
prosperity of his estate, and rebels against his authority and laws.[438] In
order, however, to secure to the ecclesiastical tribunals their full control over
clergymen, it was provided that any churchman condemned to banishment,
or any other punishment short of death, should immediately after the
"amende honorable," and before execution of sentence, be remitted to his
spiritual superiors to undergo deprivation of office, and such other penalties
as canon law might prescribe.[439]
But the succession of edicts, each surpassing the last in
severity, had not rendered the path of the judges, whether Heresy to be
lay or ghostly, altogether easy. There were found punished sedition.
as

prisoners, accused of holding and teaching heretical
doctrines, well skilled in holy lore, however ignorant of Repression proves a
the casuistry of the schools, who made good their failure.
assertion that they could give a warrant for all their
distinctive tenets from the Sacred Scriptures. Their arguments were so
cogent, their citations were so apposite, that the auditors who had come with
the expectation of witnessing the confusion of a heretic, often departed
absorbed in serious consideration of a system that had so much the
appearance of truth when defended by a simple man in jeopardy of his life,
and when fortified by the authority of the Bible. More learned reformers had
appealed successfully to the Fathers to whose teachings the church avowed
its implicit obedience. It was clear that some standard of orthodoxy must be
established. For, if St. Augustine or St. Cyprian might be brought up to prove
the errors of the priests, what was it but allowing the reformers to place the
Roman Church at the bar, even in the very courts of justice? Might not the
most damaging losses be expected to flow from such trials?

The public courts, indeed, were not the only places where the inconsistencies
of the established church with its own ancient standards and representative
theologians were brought out into bold relief. The pulpits of the very capital
resounded, it was alleged, with contradictory teachings, scandalizing the
faithful not a little at the holy season of Advent.[440]
To put an end to so anomalous a state of affairs, the
Parisian theologians, with the consent of the king, The Sorbonne's
Twenty-five
resolved to enunciate the true Catholic faith, in the form Articles.
of twenty-five articles meeting all questions now in
dispute (on the tenth of March, 1543). Of the general contents of this new
formulary, it is sufficient to observe that it more concisely expressed the
doctrines developed in the decisions of the Council of Trent; that it insisted
upon baptism as essential to the salvation even of infants; that it magnified
the freedom of the human will, and maintained the justification of the sinner
by works as well as by faith; and that, dwelling upon the bodily presence of
Christ in the consecrated wafer, it affirmed the propriety of denying the cup
to the laity, the utility of masses for the dead, the lawfulness of the
invocation of the blessed Virgin and the saints, the existence of purgatory,
the infallibility of the church, the authority of tradition, and the divine right
of the Pope.[441]
On the twenty-third of July, 1543, the very day of the
publication of the edict of persecution previously Francis gives them
mentioned, Francis by letters-patent gave the force of law the force of law.
to the exposition of the faith drawn up by the theological faculty of "his
blessed and eldest daughter, the University of Paris." Henceforth no other
doctrines could be professed in France. Dissent was to be treated as
"rebellion" against the royal authority.[442]
The sanguinary legislation at which we have glanced
bore its most atrocious fruits in the last years of Francis, Persecution more
systematic.
and in the reign of his immediate successor. The
consideration of this topic must, however, be reserved for
succeeding chapters. Until now the persecution had been The inquisitor
Matthieu Ory.
carried on with little system, and its intensity had varied
according to the natural temperament and disposition of the Roman Catholic
prelates, not less than the zeal of the civil judges. Many clergymen, as well

as lay magistrates, had exhibited a singular supineness in the detection and
punishment of the reformed. Some bishops, supposed to be at heart friendly
to the restoration of the church to its pristine purity of doctrine and practice,
had scarcely instituted a serious search. The royal edicts themselves bear
witness to their reluctance, in spite of threatened suspension and deprivation.
It is true that an attempt had been made to secure greater thoroughness and
uniformity, by augmenting the number of inquisitors of the faith, and this,
notwithstanding the fact that their authority infringed upon that of the
bishops, whose right was scarcely questioned to exclusive cognizance of
heresy within their respective dioceses. Not only had Matthieu Ory[443] and
others been appointed with jurisdiction over the entire kingdom, but a
special inquisitor was created for the province of Normandy. Even these
persons, however, were not always equally zealous in the performance of
their allotted task. It was notorious that the good cheer with which Ory was
regaled by the astute Protestants of Sancerre led him to report them to be
excellent people. A deputy, who next visited the reputed heretics, brought
back an equally flattering statement. And so the persecuting "lieutenant
particulier" of Bourges seems to have had some ground for his complaint,
"that good wine and a right new coat caused all these inquisitors to return
well satisfied, without bringing him any prey."[444]
It could not be otherwise, however, than that these severe
measures and the employment of new agents in the The Nicodemites
and Libertins.
pitiless work of persecution should induce many feeble
souls to suppress their true sentiments, and to make the attempt, under an
external conformity with the Roman Church, to maintain opinions and a
private devotion quite inconsistent with their professions. And, while the
progress of the Reformation was seriously impeded by the timidity of this
class of irresolute persons—appropriately styled by their contemporaries
"the Nicodemites"—scarcely less danger threatened the same doctrines from
the insidious assaults of the Libertines, a party which, ostensibly aiming at
reform and religious liberty, really asked only for freedom in the indulgence
of vicious propensities. Against both of these pernicious tendencies the
eloquent reformer of Geneva employed his pen in forcible treatises, which
were not without effect in checking their inroads.[445]
It must be confessed that the Queen of Navarre herself gave no little aid and
comfort to the advocates of timid and irresolute counsels, by a course

singularly wanting in ingenuousness. This amiable
princess knew how to express herself with such Margaret of Navarre
at Bordeaux.
ambiguity as to perplex both religious parties and heartily
satisfy neither the one side nor the other. She was the avowed friend and
correspondent of Melanchthon and Calvin. She was believed to be in
substantial agreement with the Protestants. Her views of the fundamental
doctrine of justification by faith and the paramount authority of the Holy
Scriptures were those for which many a Protestant martyr had laid down his
life. Even on the question of the Lord's Supper, her opinions, if mystical and
somewhat vague, were certainly far removed from the dogmas of the Roman
Church. She condemned, it is true, the extreme to which the
"Sacramentarians" went, but it was difficult to see precisely wherein the
modified mass she countenanced differed from the reformed service.
Certainly not a line in her correspondence with Calvin points to any
important difference of sentiment known by either party to exist between
them. What shall we say, then, on reading of such language as she used in
1543, when addressing the Parliament of Bordeaux? She had been deputed
by her brother to represent him, and was, consequently, received by the
court, (on the twenty-fourth of May) with honors scarcely, if at all, inferior
to those that would have been accorded to Francis had he presented himself
in person. Her special commission was to notify parliament of an expected
attack by the English, and to request that due preparation should be made to
ward it off. From this topic she passed to that of heresy, in respect to which
she expressed herself to this effect: "She exhorted and prayed the court to
punish and burn the true heretics, but to spare the innocent, and have
compassion upon the prisoners and captives."[446] If, as the interesting
minute of the queen's visit informs us, she next proceeded to claim the
immemorial right, as a daughter of France, to open the prisons and liberate
the inmates according to her good pleasure,[447] it can scarcely be imagined
that the assertion of the right at this time had any other object in view than
the release of those imprisoned for conscience' sake. It is true that she took
pains to protest that she would avoid meddling with prisoners incarcerated
for other crimes than such as her brother was accustomed to pardon; but as
the interference of Francis in behalf of Berquin, Marot, and others accused
of heresy, was sufficiently notorious, her guarantee could scarcely be
considered very broad. Certainly she was not likely to find a "true heretic"

worthy of the stake among all those imprisoned as "Lutherans" in the city of
Bordeaux.
While Francis, as we have seen, was from year to year
aggravating the severity of his enactments against the Negotiations in
adherents of the Reformation in his own kingdom, he did Germany.
not forget his old rôle of ally of the Protestant princes of
the empire. It would be too wide a digression from the Hypocritical
representations
true scope of this work, should we turn aside to chronicle made by Charles of
the successive attempts of the French monarch to secure Orleans.
these powerful auxiliaries in his struggle with his great
rival of the house of Hapsburg. One incident must suffice. The hypocrisy of
Francis could, perhaps, go no farther than it carried him when, in 1543, his
son Charles, Duke of Orleans, at the head of a royal army took possession of
the Duchy of Luxemburg. The duke, who can hardly be imagined to have
allowed himself to take any important step, certainly no step fraught with
such momentous consequences as might be expected to follow this, without
explicit instructions from his father, at once despatched an envoy to the
Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse. The subordinate agent in this
game of duplicity was instructed to assure the great Protestant leaders that it
was the earnest desire of the Duke of Orleans to see the Gospel preached
throughout the whole of France. It was true that filial reverence had hitherto
restrained him from gratifying his desires in this direction in his Duchy of
Orleans; but in the government of Luxemburg and of all other territories
acquired by right of arms, he hoped to be permitted by his royal father to
follow his own preferences, and there he solemnly promised to introduce the
proclamation of God's holy word. In return for these liberal engagements,
the duke desired the German princes, then on the point of meeting for
conference at Frankfort, to admit him to an alliance offensive and defensive,
especially in matters concerning religion. He assured them of the support not
only of his own forces, but of his father's troops, committed to him to use at
his discretion, adding, as a further motive, the prospect that the Gospel
would find more ready welcome in the rest of France, when the king saw its
German advocates close allies of his youngest son.[448]
But the princes were much too familiar with the wiles of
Francis to repose any confidence in the lavish professions Commendable
scepticism of the
of his son. And the historian who discovers that the more

intimately the king strove to associate himself with the Germans.
German Protestants, the more fiercely did he commit the
Protestants of France to the flames, in order to demonstrate to the Pope the
immaculate orthodoxy of his religious belief, will not fail to applaud their
discernment. Not until toward the very close of Francis's reign, when the
Lutherans descried portents of a storm that threatened them with utter
extermination, raised by the bigotry or craft of Charles the Fifth, did they
manifest any anxiety to enter into near connection with the French monarch.
Francis was reaping the natural rewards of a crooked policy, dictated by no
strong convictions of truth or duty, but shaped according to the narrow
suggestions of an unworthy ambition. If he punished heretics at home, it was
partly to secure on his side the common sentiment of the Roman Catholic
world, partly because the enemies of the Reformation had persuaded him
that the change of religion necessarily involved the subversion of established
order and of royal authority. If he made overtures to the Protestant princes of
Germany, the flimsy veil of devotion to their interests was too transparent to
conceal the total want of concern for anything beyond his own personal
aggrandizement.
Two mournful exemplifications of the fruits of his persecuting measures
must, however, be presented to the reader's notice, before the curtain can be
permitted to fall over the scene on which this monarch played his part. The
massacre of Mérindol and Cabrières and the execution of the "Fourteen of
Meaux" are the melancholy events that mark the close of a reign opening, a
generation earlier, so auspiciously.

CHAPTER VII.
CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE VAUDOIS OF MÉRINDOL AND
CABRIÈRES, AND LAST DAYS OF FRANCIS THE FIRST.

That part of Provence, the ancient Roman Provincia,
which skirts the northern bank of the Durance, formerly The Vaudois of
Provence.
contained, at a distance of between twenty and fifty miles
above the confluence of the river with the Rhône near
Avignon, more than a score of small towns and villages Their thrift.
industry and

inhabited by peasants of Waldensian origin. The entire
district had been desolated by war about a couple of
Vaudois settlements
centuries before the time of which we are now treating. even in the Comtât
Extensive tracts of land were nearly depopulated, and the Venaissin.
few remaining tillers of the soil obtained a precarious
subsistence, at the mercy of banditti that infested the mountains and forests,
and plundered unfortunate travellers. Under these circumstances, the landed
gentry, impoverished through the loss of the greater part of their revenues,
gladly welcomed the advent of new-comers, who were induced to cross the
Alps from the valleys of Piedmont and occupy the abandoned farms.[449] By
the industrious culture of the Vaudois, or Waldenses, the face of the country
was soon transformed. Villages sprang up where there had scarcely been a
single house. Brigandage disappeared. Grain, wine, olives, and almonds
were obtained in abundance from what had been a barren waste. On lands
less favorable for cultivation numerous flocks and herds pastured.[450] A tract
formerly returning the scanty income of four crowns a year now contained a
thriving village of eighty substantial houses, and brought its owners nearly a
hundredfold the former rental.[451] On one occasion at least, discouraged by
the annoyance to which their religious opinions subjected them, a part of the
Vaudois sought refuge in their ancient homes, on the Italian side of the
mountains. But their services were too valuable to be dispensed with, and
they soon returned to Provence, in answer to the urgent summons of their
Roman Catholic landlords.[452] In fact, a very striking proof both of their
industry and of their success is furnished by the circumstance that Cabrières,

one of the largest Vaudois villages, was situated within the bounds of the
Comtât Venaissin, governed, about the time of their arrival, by the Pope in
person, and subsequently, as we have seen, by a papal legate residing in
Avignon.[453]
The news of an attempted reformation of the church in
Switzerland and Germany awakened a lively interest in They send delegates
to the Swiss and
this community of simple-minded Christians. At length a German reformers.
convocation of their ministers[454] at Mérindol, in 1530,
determined to send two of their number to compare the tenets they had long
held with those of the reformers, and to obtain, if possible, additional light
upon some points of doctrine and of practice respecting which they
entertained doubt. The delegates were George Morel, of Freissinières, and
Pierre Masson, of Burgundy. They visited Œcolampadius at Basle, Bucer
and Capito at Strasbourg, Farel at Neufchâtel, and Haller at Berne. From the
first-named they received the most important aid, in the way of suggestions
respecting the errors[455] into which the isolated position they had long
occupied had insensibly led them. Grateful for the kindness manifested to
them, and delighted with what they had witnessed of the progress of the faith
they had received from their fathers, the two envoys started on their return.
But Morel alone succeeded in reaching Provence; his companion was
arrested at Dijon and condemned to death. Upon the report of Morel,
however, the Waldenses at once began to investigate the new questions that
had been raised, and, in their eagerness to purify their church, sent word to
their brethren in Apulia and Calabria, inviting them to a conference
respecting the interests of religion.[456]
A few years later (1535) the Waldenses by their liberal
contributions furnished the means necessary for They furnish means
for publishing the
publishing the translation of the Holy Scriptures made by Scriptures.
Pierre Robert Olivetanus, and corrected by Calvin,
which, unless exception be made in favor of the translation by Lefèvre
d'Étaples, is entitled to rank as the earliest French Protestant Bible.[457] It
was a noble undertaking, by which the poor and humble inhabitants of
Provence, Piedmont, and Calabria conferred on France a signal benefit,
scarcely appreciated in its full extent even by those who pride themselves
upon their acquaintance with the rich literature of that country. For, while
Olivetanus in his admirable version laid the foundation upon which all the

later and more accurate translations have been reared, by the excellence of
his modes of expression he exerted an influence upon the French language
perhaps not inferior to that of Calvin or Montaigne.[458]
Intelligence of the new activity manifested by the
Waldenses reaching the ears of their enemies, among Preliminary
persecutions.
whom the Archbishop of Aix was prominent, stirred them
up to more virulent hostility. The accusation was subsequently made by
unfriendly writers, in order to furnish some slight justification for the
atrocities of the massacre, that the Waldenses, emboldened by the
encouragement of the reformers, began to show a disposition to offer
forcible resistance to the arbitrary arrests ordered by the civil and religious
authorities of Aix. But the assertion, which is unsupported by evidence,
contradicts the well-known disposition and practice of a patient people, more
prone to submit to oppression than to take up arms even in defence of a
righteous cause.[459]
For a time the persecution was individual, and therefore
limited. But in the aggregate the number of victims was The Dominican De
by no means inconsiderable, and the flames burned many Roma foremost in
the work.
a steadfast Waldensee.[460] The Dominican De Roma
enjoyed an unenviable notoriety for his ferocity in Iniquitous order of
dealing with the "heretics," whose feet he was in the the Parliament of
habit of plunging in boots full of melted fat and boiling Aix.
over a slow fire. The device did, indeed, seem to the
king, when he heard of it, less ingenious than cruel, and De Roma found it
necessary to avoid arrest by a hasty flight to Avignon, where, upon papal
soil, as foul a sink of iniquity existed as anywhere within the bounds of
Christendom.[461] But other agents, scarcely more merciful than De Roma,
prosecuted the work. Some of the Waldenses were put to death, others were
branded upon the forehead. Even the ordinary rights of the accused were
denied them; for, in order to leave no room for justice, the Parliament of Aix
had framed an iniquitous order, prohibiting all clerks and notaries from
either furnishing the accused copies of legal instruments, or receiving at their
hands any petition or paper whatsoever.[462] Such were the measures by
which the newly-created Parliament of Provence signalized its zeal for the
faith, and attested its worthiness to be a sovereign court of the kingdom.[463]
From its severe sentences, however, appeals had once and again been taken

by the Waldenses to Francis, who had granted them his royal pardon on
condition of their abjuration of their errors within six months.[464]
The slow methods heretofore pursued having proved
abortive, in 1540 the parliament summoned to its bar, as Inhabitants of
Mérindol cited.
suspected of heresy, fifteen or twenty[465] of the
inhabitants of the village of Mérindol. On the appointed day the accused
made their way to Aix, but, on stopping to obtain legal advice of a lawyer
more candid than others to whom they had first applied, and who had
declined to give counsel to reputed Lutherans, they were warned by no
means to appear, as their death was already resolved upon. They acted on the
friendly injunction, and fled while it was still time.
Finding itself balked for the time of its expected prey, the
parliament resolved to avenge the slight put upon its The atrocious Arrêt
authority, by compassing the ruin of a larger number of de Mérindol, Nov.
18, 1540.
victims. On the eighteenth of November, 1540, the order
was given which has since become infamous under the designation of the
"Arrêt de Mérindol." The persons who had failed to obey the summons were
sentenced to be burned alive, as heretics and guilty of treason against God
and the King. If not apprehended in person, they were to be burned in effigy,
their wives and children proscribed, and their possessions confiscated. As if
this were not enough to satisfy the most inordinate greed of vengeance,
parliament ordered that all the houses of Mérindol be burned and razed to
the ground, and the trees cut down for a distance of two hundred paces on
every side, in order that the spot which had been the receptacle of heresy
might be forever uninhabited! Finally, with an affectation which would seem
puerile were it not the conclusion of so sanguinary a document, the owners
of lands were forbidden to lease any part of Mérindol to a tenant bearing the
same name, or belonging to the same family, as the miscreants against whom
the decree was fulminated.[466]
A more atrocious sentence was, perhaps, never rendered
by a court of justice than the Arrêt de Mérindol, which It is condemned by
public opinion.
condemned the accused without a hearing, confounded
the innocent with the guilty, and consigned the entire population of a
peaceful village, by a single stroke of the pen, to a cruel death, or a scarcely
less terrible exile. For ten righteous persons God would have spared guilty

Sodom; but neither the virtues of the inoffensive inhabitants, nor the
presence of many Roman Catholics among them, could insure the safety of
the ill-fated Mérindol at the hands of merciless judges.[467] The publication
of the Arrêt occasioned, even within the bounds of the province, the most
severe animadversion; nor were there wanting men of learning and high
social position, who, while commenting freely upon the scandalous morals
of the clergy, expressed their conviction that the public welfare would be
promoted rather by restraining and reforming the profligacy of the
ecclesiastics, than by issuing bloody edicts against the most exemplary part
of the community.[468]
Meantime, however, the archbishops of Arles and of Aix
urged the prompt execution of the sentence, and the Preparations to
convocations of clergy offered to defray the expense of carry it into effect.
the levy of troops needed to carry it into effect. The Archbishop of Aix used
his personal influence with Chassanée, the First President of the Parliament,
who, with the more moderate judges, had only consented to the enactment as
a threat which he never intended to execute.[469] And the wily prelate so far
succeeded by his arguments, and by the assurance he gave of the protection
of the Cardinal of Tournon, in case the matter should reach the king's ears,
that the definite order was actually promulgated for the destruction of
Mérindol. Troops were accordingly raised, and, in fact, the vanguard of a
formidable army had reached a spot within three miles of the devoted
village, when the command was suddenly received to retreat, the soldiers
were disbanded, and the astonished Waldenses beheld the dreaded outburst
of the storm strangely delayed.[470]
The unexpected deliverance is said to have been due to
the remonstrance of a friend, M. d'Allens. D'Allens had It is delayed by
friendly
adroitly reminded the president of an amusing incident interposition.
by means of which Chassanée had himself illustrated the
ample protection against oppression afforded by the law, The "mice of
in the hands of a sagacious advocate and a righteous Autun."
judge; and he had earnestly entreated his friend not to
show himself less equitable in the matter of the defenceless inhabitants of
Mérindol than he had been in that of the "mice of Autun."[471]

The delay thus gained permitted a reference of the affair
to the king. It is said that Guillaume du Bellay is entitled Francis I. instructs
to the honor of having informed Francis of the Du Bellay to
investigate.
oppression of his poor subjects of Provence, and invoked
the royal interposition.[472] However this may be, it is certain that Francis
instructed Du Bellay to set on foot a thorough investigation into the history
and character of the inhabitants of Mérindol, and report the results to
himself. The selection could not have been more felicitous. Du Bellay was
Viceroy of Piedmont, a province thrown into the hands of Francis by the
fortunes of war. A man of calm and impartial spirit, his liberal principles had
been fostered by intimate association with the Protestants of Germany. Only
a few months earlier, in 1539, he had, in his capacity of governor, made
energetic remonstrances to the Constable de Montmorency touching the
wrongs sustained by the Waldenses of the valleys of Piedmont at the hands
of a Count de Montmian, the constable's kinsman. He had even resorted to
threats, and declared "that it appeared to him wicked and villanous, if, as
was reported, the count had invaded these valleys and plundered a peaceful
and unoffending race of men." Montmian had retorted by accusing Du
Bellay of falsehood, and maintaining that the Waldenses had suffered no
more than they deserved, on account of their rebellion against God and the
king. The unexpected death of Montmian prevented the two noblemen from
meeting in single combat, but a bitter enmity between the constable and Du
Bellay had been the result.[473]
The viceroy, in obedience to his instructions, despatched
two agents from Turin to inquire upon the ground into Du Bellay's
the character and antecedents of the people of Mérindol. favorable report.
Their report, which has fortunately come down to us, constitutes a brilliant
testimonial from unbiassed witnesses to the virtues of this simple peasantry.
They set forth in simple terms the affecting story of the cruelty and merciless
exactions to which the villagers had for long years been subjected. They
collected the concurrent opinions of all the Roman Catholics of the vicinity
respecting their industry. In two hundred years they had transformed an
uncultivated and barren waste into a fertile and productive tract, to the no
small profit of the noblemen whose tenants they were. They were a people
distinguished for their love of peace and quiet, with firmly established
customs and principles, and warmly commended for their strict adherence to
truth in their words and engagements. Averse alike to debt and to litigation,

they were bound to their neighbors by a tie of singular good-will and respect.
Their kindness to the unfortunate and their humanity to travellers knew no
bounds. One could readily distinguish them from others by their abstinence
from unnecessary oaths, and their avoidance even of the very name of the
devil. They never indulged in lascivious discourse themselves, and if others
introduced it in their presence, they instantly withdrew from the company. It
was true that they rarely entered the churches, when pleasure or business
took them to the city or the fair; and, if found within the sacred enclosure,
they were seen praying with faces averted from the paintings of the saints.
They offered no candles, avoided the sacred relics, and paid no reverence to
the crosses on the roadside. The priests testified that they were never known
to purchase masses either for the living or for the dead, nor to sprinkle
themselves with holy water. They neither went on pilgrimages, nor invoked
the intercession of the host of heaven, nor expended the smallest sum in
securing indulgences. In a thunderstorm they knelt down and prayed, instead
of crossing themselves. Finally, they contributed nothing to the support of
religious fraternities or to the rebuilding of churches, reserving their means
for the relief of tho poor and afflicted.[474]

MAP OF THE VAUDOIS VILLAGES IN PROVENCE.

To face p. 240.
Although the enemies of the Waldenses were not
silenced, and wild stories of their rebellious acts still Francis signs a
letter of pardon.
found willing listeners at court,[475] it was impossible to
resist the favorable impression made by the viceroy's letter. Consequently,
on the eighth of February, 1541, Francis signed a letter granting pardon not
only to the persons who by their failure to appear before the Parliament of
Aix had furnished the pretext for the proscriptive decree, but to all others,
meantime commanding them to abjure their errors within the space of three
months. At the same time the over-zealous judges were directed henceforth
to use less severity against these subjects of his Majesty.[476]
Little inclined to relinquish the pursuit, however,
parliament seized upon the king's command to abjure Parliament issues a
within three months, as an excuse for issuing a new new summons.
summons to the Waldenses. Two deputies from Mérindol
accordingly presented themselves, and offered, on the The Vaudois publish
a confession.
part of the inhabitants, to abandon their peculiar tenets,
so soon as these should be refuted from the Holy
Scriptures—the course which, as they believed, the king Bishop Sadolet's
kindness.
himself had intended that they should take. As it was no
part of the plan to grant so reasonable a request, the sole reply vouchsafed
was a declaration that all who recanted would receive the benefit of the
king's pardon, but all others would be reputed guilty of heresy without
further inquiry. Whereupon the Waldenses of Mérindol, in 1542, drew up a
full confession of their faith, in order that the excellence of the doctrines
they held might be known to all men.[477] The important document was
submitted not merely to parliament, but to Cardinal Sadolet, Bishop of
Carpentras. The prelate was a man of a kindly disposition, and did not
hesitate, in reply to a petition of the Waldenses of Cabrières, to acknowledge
the falsity of the accusations laid to their charge.[478] Not long after, he
successfully exerted his influence with the vice-legate to induce him to
abandon an expedition he had organized against the last-mentioned village;
while, in an interview which he purposely sought with the inhabitants, he

assured them that he firmly intended, in a coming visit to Rome, to secure
the reformation of some incontestable abuses.[479]
The Mérindol confession is said to have found its way
even to Paris, and to have been read to the king by Intercession of the
Germans.
Châtellain, Bishop of Maçon, and a favorite of the
monarch. And it is added that, astonished at the purity of its doctrine, Francis
asked, but in vain, that any erroneous teaching in it should be pointed out to
him.[480] It is not, indeed, impossible that the king's interest in his
Waldensian subjects may have been deepened by the receipt of a respectful
remonstrance against the persecutions now raging in France, drawn up by
Melanchthon in the name of the Protestant princes and states of Germany.
[481]

The Arrêt de Mérindol yet remained unexecuted when,
Chassanée having died, he was succeeded, in the office Death of President
Chassanée, who is
of First President of the Parliament of Provence, by Jean succeeded by Baron
Meynier, Baron d'Oppède. The latter was an impetuous d'Oppède.
and unscrupulous man. Even before his elevation to his
new judicial position, Meynier had looked with envious Military
eye upon the prosperity of Cabrières, situated but a few preparations
miles from his barony; and scarcely had he taken his stopped by a second
royal order.
place on the bench, before, at his bidding, the first notes
of preparation for a great military assault upon the villages of the Durance
were heard. The affrighted peasants again had recourse to the mercy of their
distant sovereign. A second time Francis (on the twenty-fifth of October,
1544) interfered, evoking the case from parliament, and assuming
cognizance of it until such time as he might have instituted an examination
upon the spot by a "Maître de requêtes" and a theologian sent by him.[482]
The interruption was little relished. A fresh investigation
was likely to disclose nothing more unfavorable to the Calumnious
accusations.
Waldenses than had been elicited by the inquiries of Du
Bellay, or than the report which had led Louis the Twelfth, on an earlier
occasion (1501), to exclaim with an oath: "They are better Christians than
we are!"[483] and, what was worse, the poor relations, both of the prelates
and of the judges, had only a sorry prospect of enriching themselves through
the confiscation of the property of the lawful owners.[484] It was time to

venture something for the purpose of obtaining the coveted prize.
Accordingly, the Parliament of Aix, at this juncture, despatched to Paris one
of its official servants, with a special message to the king. He was to beg
Francis to recall his previous order. He was to tell him that Mérindol and the
neighboring villages had broken out into open rebellion; that fifteen
thousand armed insurgents had met in a single body. They had captured
towns and castles, liberated prisoners, and hindered the course of justice.
They were intending to march against Marseilles, and when successful
would establish a republic fashioned on the model of the Swiss cantons.[485]
Thus reinforced, Cardinal Tournon found no great
difficulty in exciting the animosity of a king both jealous Francis,
misinformed,
of any infringement upon his prerogative, and credulous revokes his last
respecting movements tending to the encouragement of orders.
rebellion. On the first of January, 1545, Francis sent a
new letter to the Parliament of Aix. He revoked his last order, enjoined the
execution of the former decrees of parliament, so far as they concerned those
who had failed to abjure, and commanded the governor of Provence, or his
lieutenant, to employ all his forces to exterminate any found guilty of the
Waldensian heresy.[486]
The new order had been skilfully drawn. The "Arrêt de
Mérindol," although not alluded to by name, might His letter construed
naturally be understood as included under the general as authorizing a
new crusade.
designation of the parliament's decrees against heretics;
while the direction to employ the governor's troops against those who had
not abjured could be construed as authorizing a local crusade, in which
innocent and guilty were equally likely to suffer. Such were the pretexts
behind which the first president and his friends prepared for a carnage
which, for causelessness and atrocity, finds few parallels on the page of
history.
Three months passed, and yet no attempt was made to
disturb the peaceful villages on the Durance. Then the An expedition
looked-for opportunity came. Count De Grignan, stealthily organized.
Governor of Provence, was summoned by the king and sent on a diplomatic
mission to Germany. The civil and military administration fell into the Baron
d'Oppède's hands as lieutenant. The favorable conjuncture was instantly

improved. On a single day—the twelfth of April—the royal letter, hitherto
kept secret, that the intended victims might receive no intimations of the
impending blow, was read and judicially confirmed, and four commissioners
were appointed to superintend the execution.[487] Troops were hastily levied.
All men capable of bearing arms in the cities of Aix, Arles, and Marseilles
were commanded, under severe penalties, to join the expedition;[488] and
some companies of veteran troops, which happened to be on their way from
Piedmont to the scene of the English war, were impressed into the service by
D'Oppède, in the king's name.[489]
On the thirteenth of April, the commissioners, leaving
Aix, proceeded to Pertuis, on the northern bank of the Villages burned and
their inhabitants
Durance. Thence, following the course of the river, they butchered.
reached Cadenet. Here they were joined by the Baron
d'Oppède, his sons-in-law, De Pouriez and De Lauris, and a considerable
force of men. A deliberation having been held, on the sixteenth, Poulain, to
whom the chief command had been assigned by D'Oppède, directed his
course northward, and burned Cabrièrette, Peypin, La Motte and Saint-
Martin, villages built on the lands of De Cental, a Roman Catholic
nobleman, at this time a minor. The wretched inhabitants, who had not until
the very last moment credited the strange story of the disaster in reserve for
them, hurriedly fled on the approach of the soldiery, some to the woods,
others to Mérindol. Unable to defend them against a force so greatly superior
in number and equipment, a part of the men are said to have left their wives,
old men, and children in their forest retreat, confident that if discovered,
feminine weakness and the helplessness of infancy or of extreme old age
would secure better terms for them than could be hoped for in case of a
brave, but ineffectual defence by unarmed men.[490] It was a confidence
misplaced. Unresisting, gray-headed men were despatched with the sword,
while the women were reserved for the grossest outrage, or suffered the
mutilation of their breasts, or, if with child, were butchered with their unborn
offspring. Of all the property spared them by previous oppressors, nothing
was left to sustain the miserable survivors. For weeks they wandered
homeless and penniless in the vicinity of their once flourishing settlements;
and there one might not unfrequently see the infant lying on the road-side,
by the corpse of the mother dead of hunger and exposure. For even the
ordinary charity of the humane had been checked by an order of D'Oppède,

savagely forbidding that shelter or food be afforded to heretics, on pain of
the halter.[491]
Lourmarin, Villelaure, and Treizemines were next burned on the way to
Mérindol. On the opposite side of the Durance, La Rocque and St. Étienne
de Janson suffered the same fate, at the hands of volunteers coming from
Arles. Happily they were found deserted, the villagers having had timely
notice of the approaching storm.
Early on the eighteenth of April, D'Oppède reached
Mérindol, the ostensible object of the expedition. But a The destruction of
Mérindol.
single person was found within its circuit, and he a young
man reputed possessed of less than ordinary intellect. His captor had
promised him freedom, on his pledging himself to pay two crowns for his
ransom. But D'Oppède, finding no other human being upon whom to vent
his rage, paid the soldier the two crowns from his own pocket, and ordered
the youth to be tied to an olive-tree and shot. The touching words uttered by
the simple victim, as he turned his eyes heavenward and breathed out his
life, have been preserved: "Lord God, these men are snatching from me a life
full of wretchedness and misery, but Thou wilt give me eternal life through
Jesus Thy Son."[492]
Meantime the work of persecution was thoroughly done.
The houses were plundered and burned; the trees, The village razed.
whether intended for shade or for fruit, were cut down to
the distance of two hundred paces from the place. The very site of Mérindol
was levelled, and crowds of laborers industriously strove to destroy every
trace of human habitation. Two hundred dwellings, the former abode of thrift
and contentment, had disappeared from the earth, and their occupants
wandered, poverty-stricken, to other regions.[493]
Leaving the desolate spot, D'Oppède next presented
himself, on the nineteenth of April, before the town of Treacherous capture
of Cabrières.
Cabrières. Behind some weak entrenchments a small
body of brave men had posted themselves, determined to defend the lives
and honor of their wives and children to their last drop of blood. D'Oppède
hesitated to order an assault until a breach had first been made by cannon.
Then the Waldenses were plied with solicitations to spare needless effusion
of blood by voluntary surrender. They were offered immunity of life and