Chapter VIII.

Calvin Preaches Religious Reform In Italy. The Duchess Of Ferrara. Calvin's Flight From Aosta.

Towards the close of 1535, when the first edition, or, to speak more accurately, the first sketch of his 'Christian Institutes' had been prepared, or possibly published at Basle, Calvin had not as yet come to any definite conclusion with regard to his ultimate abode and life-work; he was engrossed in the propagation of his faith, and wandered about, as one may say, in search of places which might seem to promise the best means and chances of success for his labours. He resolved to visit Italy and, like others, to preach reform in the very stronghold of the ancient Church. I say 'like others,' for the Reformation already possessed more or less open adherents in Italy--reformers who were sincere and active even when they were timid. Their chief protector was Renée of France, duchess of Ferrara and daughter of Louis XII.: they gathered round her, secure of her favour, and at times tolerated by her husband Hercules d'Este, Duke of Ferrara; but their religious labours were always to some extent disguised by their love of learning and literature. {203} Either from prudence or in the interest of his cause, Calvin did not travel in Italy under his own name, nor did he pass by it at Ferrara; he was known as Charles d'Espeville, a name which he often assumed to the end of his life whenever he wished to write without compromising his friends. At the court of Ferrara he soon found, or rather gained, admirers and disciples, some of them ardent and enthusiastic like M. and Madame de Soubise, others brilliant and vacillating like the poet Clement Marot. But Calvin's most important and valuable conquest at Ferrara was the Duchess Renée herself. She was a princess of insignificant appearance, little and deformed, but she possessed rare intelligence and a very noble nature; she was deeply interested in the study of religion as well as that of literature, and was capable of making great efforts and sacrifices for the Christian faith, although she never forgot the requirements of her position and royal birth. She had married her eldest daughter to Francis, Duke de Guise, and in 1557, at the close of the disasters of the army commanded by the duke in Italy, 'she saved,' says Brantôme, 'more than ten thousand souls, poor Frenchmen, soldiers and others, who would have died of hunger and want if it had not been for her; they passed through Ferrara and she succoured them all, as many as ever there were, supplying their wants and giving them money: so much so, that I have heard from one of her _maîtres d'hôtel_ that their passage through the place cost her more than ten thousand crowns; and when the _intendants_ of her palace remonstrated at the excessive expense, she said nothing more to them than--"What would you have me do? They are poor Frenchmen of my nation, and if God had given me a beard on my chin, and I had been a man, they would have been my subjects; and indeed they would be my subjects now if that cursed Salic law did not press so hardly upon me."'

{204}

Some years later, after 1559, the duchess became a widow, and she then returned to France, and lived in her own castle of Montargis; in 1562, in the midst of the civil war, she sheltered in it a considerable number of Calvinists, some of them men of rank; her grandson Henry, Duke de Guise, besieged the castle, and summoned her to deliver up her guests. 'Take good care of what you are doing,' was Renée's answer to the duke's envoy; 'know that, except the king himself, no one has any right to dictate to me, and if you execute your threats, I will be the first to enter the breach, and I will try if you are bold enough to kill a king's daughter, whose death both heaven and earth will be compelled to avenge on you and your descendants, down to the children in their cradles.'

Such a victory for the Reformation, and such a protector for the reformers, were well worthy of the affectionate esteem and great consideration which Calvin constantly showed the Duchess of Ferrara from 1536 to 1564. During his short sojourn in Italy he had evidently acquired that ascendency over her which a powerful nature always obtains over a generous one, and a religious leader exercises over his sincere adherents. There is no indication of his having ever seen her again; but he was in constant correspondence with her, and he became truly, in the language of the seventeenth century, the director of her conscience. In this difficult task he displayed an admirable admixture of religious severity and wise moderation; he was prompt in his warnings when he found the duchess weak, but very careful not to wound her by unnecessary severity, or to require anything at her hands which was inconsistent with her position; he took pains to put her on her guard against the irregularities of her servants, but did this without any meddlesome interference in her affairs or the affection she felt for her family. {205} In 1554 she asked him to send her a chaplain for herself, and two widow ladies 'to take charge of and have rule over the daughters of her house.' Calvin sent her a reformed minister, Francis Morel, who was known as Monsieur de Colonges. 'I think,' wrote Calvin, 'you will find him so satisfactory that you will have good reason to thank God. As he is a gentleman of good birth, he will be so much the better received by those who will never listen to good men if they are contemptible in the world's eyes. The truth is that we must strive after that which is highest, and even noble birth is not always to be desired if a man prizes it too highly and is hindered, because of it, from serving God.' [Footnote 66]

[Footnote 66: August 6th, 1554. _Lettres Françaises de Calvin_, vol. i. p. 428.]

In 1555 the duchess was compelled to witness the cruelty of her husband Hercules, Duke of Ferrara, towards the reformers, and even to submit to his wishes with regard to Catholic ceremonies: 'I am sure,' wrote Calvin, 'that you have been compelled to swerve from the right path, or you could not have satisfied those who are of this world; for it is an evil sign that they who offered such fierce opposition, in order to turn you from the service of God, now leave you in peace. But, Madam, since our good God is always ready to have mercy upon us, and stretches out his hand when we stumble so that we may not fall utterly, I pray you to take courage; and if the enemy for once, by reason of your weakness, has had the advantage over you, yet do not let him think that he has gained any real victory; let him rather feel that those whom God has raised have twofold strength to sustain them against all assaults.' [Footnote 67]

[Footnote 67: February 2d, 1553. Lettres Françaises, vol. ii. p. 5.]

{206}

When the duchess sheltered the reformers in her chateau of Montargis, in 1562, and gave such a haughty refusal to the summons of the Duke de Guise that she should deliver them up, Calvin congratulated her in a sternly eloquent epistle: 'I have often thought, Madam, that God had reserved some trials for your old age in order to indemnify himself for all the arrears that you owe him on account of your timidity in the past. I speak according to the manner of men, for if you had done a hundred, a thousand times more, it would not have been enough to pay what you owe him from day to day for the infinite benefits which he continues to grant you. But I understand that he has shown you singular honour, and has employed you in no less a service than that of bearing his banner, so that you may be a refuge for the members of Christ.' [Footnote 68]

[Footnote 68: May 10th, 1563. _Ibid_. vol. ii. p. 514.]

{207}

In 1564 Calvin was informed that the duchess was deeply grieved at the violent hatred which the reformers continued to feel for the memory of her son-in-law, Francis, Duke de Guise, who had been assassinated the previous year by Poltrot, and by their assertion that he would be condemned to everlasting punishment; he was touched by her sorrow, and wrote to her four months before his own death: 'Although we may all have said, "Woe to him by whom the offence cometh, yet there has been reason why we should lament and weep, in that a good cause has been very badly conducted. And how could the Duke de Guise, who had kindled the fire, be spared, if the evil which he committed vexed the souls of all good men. I myself, even though I always prayed God to have mercy upon him, yet verily I often implored the Lord to lay his hand upon him and deliver the Church from him, if it was not his will to turn his heart. And, I can assure you, that very often during the war, if it had not been for me, impetuous and resolute men would have attempted to rid the world of him; and they were kept back by my exhortations only. Nevertheless, to say that he will be damned is to go too far, unless we have sure and certain signs of his condemnation. In which matter, we must guard against rash presumption, for there is one judge only, before whose throne we must all render up an account." [Footnote 69]

[Footnote 69: January 24, 1564. _Lettres Françaises de Calvin_, vol. ii. p. 533.]

Surely, very few men in the sixteenth century--I do not speak of any other--were liberal and large-hearted enough to use such language concerning the death and the future state of their most formidable enemy.

I do not hesitate to affirm, that the great Catholic bishops, who in the seventeenth century directed the consciences of the mightiest men in France, did not fulfil this difficult task with more Christian firmness, intelligent justice, and knowledge of the world, than Calvin displayed in his intercourse with the Duchess of Ferrara. And the duchess was not the only person towards whom he fulfilled this duty of a Christian pastor. His correspondence shows that he exercised a similar influence, in a spirit equally lofty and judicious, over the consciences of many Protestants.

{208}

The severity of Hercules d'Este towards the Protestants obliged Calvin to leave Ferrara. He knew no more than when he had arrived there some months previously, where he should ultimately take up his abode, nor how he should carry on the work to which he had devoted his life. He wandered from place to place in northern Italy, tarrying where he found friends, and teaching and preaching religious reform wherever he went. Sometimes he was received well, at others he was pursued by enemies who were embittered against his doctrines and himself, for he had already become famous. In 1536 he arrived in Piedmont and stayed there some weeks, not in the city of Aosta itself, but in the neighbourhood, at the house of a family of high rank, where several of his adherents were assembled to meet him. But the alarm was given to the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of Piedmont: a council was held at Aosta, which was reinforced by a strong manifestation of popular feeling. 'All the corporations in the country renewed to the bishop the oath of fidelity which they had taken to his royal highness, binding themselves to live and die in obedience to him, and in the Apostolic and Roman faith.' Orders were given to arrest Calvin 'and all others of his party.' He escaped, but not without difficulty; he had to traverse perilous Alpine passes, and, according to an ancient tradition, was followed by 'the Marshal d'Aosta, Count of Chalans, who pursued him to the very foot of the mountains with a drawn sword in his hand.' {209} In 1541, five years later, a fountain surmounted by a cross was erected, in the principal street of Aosta, in the market-place, and the following inscription may now be seen on the pedestal:--

Hanc CALVINI FUGA, Erexit Anno MDXLI. Religionis constantia reparavit Anno MDCCXLI. Civium pietas Renovavit et adornavit Anno MDCCCXLI.

'This cross, erected in 1541, in memory of Calvin's flight, restored in 1741 by faithful believers, was renewed and ornamented in 1841 by the piety of the citizens.'

The cross of Aosta and its inscription are not the only monuments of Calvin's visit to Piedmont; local tradition has preserved many other memorials: Calvin's _farm_ and Calvin's _bridge_ are still shown in the valley of Aosta; and the pass of Duranda, one of the lofty passes on the borders of Valais which he ascended when he fled from Piedmont, is still known as Calvin's _window_.

Driven out of Italy, he returned to France; not, however, that he desired to remain there, or would have been able to do so, for there was no more safety for him in France than in Italy; his intention was to establish himself at Basle or Strasburg; but either attracted by recollections of home, or influenced by other motives of which we are ignorant, he desired once again to see the place of his birth, and those members of his family who were still living. {210} He reached Noyon, and spent some time there, apparently meeting with no opposition; at Noyon also he preached the Reformation and made proselytes. Among others he induced one of his sisters, Mary, and his only remaining brother, Anthony, to share his belief and follow him to a new country; accompanied by them, he set out for Basle; but as hostilities had again broken out between Francis I. and Charles V. he did not go by way of Lorraine, where the war was being carried on, but by Geneva. He arrived there towards the end of August 1536, not intending, so he says, to stay more than a single night. It was at Geneva, however, after many severe trials, that he was to be established and to find the great work of his life.

Great ideas, great men, and great events cannot be measured by the magnitude of their cradles. Geneva at that time seems not to have had more than from 12,000 to 15,000 inhabitants, and it was not then a place of renown; but within its narrow limits it was the scene of every crisis and every problem, great or small, which can agitate human society. It had only just obtained the national independence which it was still struggling to defend, and which it had wrested from its former masters, the dukes of Savoy, and from the hands of its own bishops. Its form of government as an independent state was still imperfect and unsettled, and was undergoing many experiments. Religious reform had been inaugurated at the same time as political freedom, but as yet it had not been condensed and embodied either in doctrine or in ecclesiastical organization and discipline. {211} There was an urgent need of moral reform, for the ancient creeds and authorities had strangely tolerated the decay of public morality; and their downfall had been followed by an increase of licence and profligacy. Religious reform made moral reform all the more necessary, but did not succeed in accomplishing it. In fact, Geneva presented the spectacle of a tottering republic, a wavering faith, a nascent church; State and Church were sometimes confused together, at others entirely separated, and there were no definite rules recognised by both Church and State in their mutual relation; whilst to all these public difficulties must be added the frightful immorality of private individuals. What was the meaning of these numerous indications? What would be the result of a complication in which everything as yet seemed dark and uncertain? Was it life-giving power that was at work, or unfruitful anarchy? Such were the questions suggested in the sixteenth century, in Geneva as well as in several of the great European States; but in Geneva they were put forward more distinctly, emphatically, and urgently than elsewhere.

Geneva became a celebrated city, because she was able to answer these questions in a manner that for three centuries has been satisfactory, whilst it is to Calvin that the answers are due.

{212}