Kitabı oku: «Palissy the Huguenot Potter», sayfa 3

Those were eventful months during which Palissy thus toiled in the depths of poverty and neglect. The fiery blaze that consumed the good brother of Gimosac had awakened alarm in the hearts of not a few who inhabited the ancient town of Saintes, and other and more fearful sights and sounds were swift to follow. But these must be reserved for another chapter.

CHAPTER V

“Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money.”

– Isa. lv. 1.

In the year 1547, Henry II. ascended the throne of France. With the intrigues of the court it is not our province to intermeddle; but from the fierce contests waged during that stormy period, our story cannot be dissevered. There were four principal factions, each pledged to the interests of a distinct chief, of whom the most influential were the celebrated constable, Anne de Montmorency, and his great rivals of the house of Guise. The constable was a personage of supreme importance, possessing enormous wealth, and raised to the pinnacle of power. As he became, in course of time, one of the chief patrons of that skill which Palissy was acquiring at the cost of so much toil and suffering, a slight sketch of this famous man, who stands out as one of the giants of the ancient monarchy, will not be misplaced here.

In early life he had gained a powerful influence over the mind of Francis I., which he long retained, and on the death of that monarch he stood high in favour with his successor, Henry II. Faithful to the interests of the throne and of his country, valiant in arms, possessed of intrepid courage, and resolute in the maintenance of what he believed right, he was, nevertheless, full of terrible blemishes and errors. He was an austere man, hard and rugged, rough and ungracious in manner, stern in his resolves, and fearful in the severity of the punishments he inflicted.

One of the first acts of the new king was to issue an edict confirmatory of religious penalties. A blasphemer was to have his tongue pierced with a hot iron, but all heretics were to be burned alive. The spirit of this sanguinary enactment was completely in harmony with the fierce bigotry which formed one of the distinguishing traits of Montmorency’s character. So great was his zeal against the heretics that he received on one occasion the nickname of “Captain Bench-burner,” because he made bonfires of the pulpits and benches taken from the churches of the Calvinists. Such was the man who now undertook the suppression of a revolt which broke out among the inhabitants of Saintonge and the surrounding districts. The occasion of this disturbance was the oppressive character of the new salt tax, which heavily burdened the poor country-people, who were consequently the first to take up arms and drive out the officers of the gabelle. In a short time the excitement spread. Pillage, fire, and massacre abounded, and the insurrection extended to Bordeaux, which became the head-quarters of the disaffected. Montmorency marched in person against the inhabitants of the disturbed districts, and wherever he went he erected gibbets and inflicted horrible punishments.

The inhabitants of Saintes had now something to divert their thoughts from the doings of Palissy. They trembled as they heard of the tremendous scenes enacted at Bordeaux, where the stern marshal, disdaining to accept the keys of the town, marched his troops into it as a triumphant enemy, and presently put to death one hundred citizens in its great square; at the same time compelling the magnates of the town to dig up with their nails the body of the royal governor, who had been slain in one of the recent tumults. Having inflicted this summary vengeance at Bordeaux, Montmorency advanced through Saintonge, resting, on his route, at Pons, a town not far from Saintes, where resided the king’s lieutenant for that department, who was also the Count of Marennes, the famous salt district. This nobleman, Sire Antoine de Pons, and his lady, Anne de Parthenay, were among the earliest and staunchest friends and patrons of Palissy. It was at their château he saw the cup of “marvellous beauty,” which had acted as a talisman to elicit his genius; and from them he had frequently received commissions for various works of art. The “Dame Pons” was, especially, a lover of gardens, and delighted in floriculture. Scarcely could she have found another so admirably suited to give her assistance in her favourite pursuit as Palissy, whose congeniality of taste in this matter caused him in after days to say, “I have found in the world no greater pleasure than to have a beautiful garden.”

It chanced at the time when Montmorency came to Pons, that Bernard was engaged at the château of the Sire Antoine, in designing some panels and decorations, as well as in laying out the pleasure grounds. He had suffered another disappointment in his darling object, even more overwhelming than all previous ones, and had been again driven to a temporary renunciation of its pursuit. The narrative of his toils and struggles had been drawn from him by the gentle-hearted lady, who, as she marked with discerning eye the exquisite skill and taste of Palissy, became interested to learn somewhat of his history. He told her, in his own strong and simple language, all that had befallen him from the day when her lord had shown him the Italian cup. Alas! his latest trial, like all the others had proved a failure, and (as he declared) “his sorrows and distresses had been so abundantly augmented,” that he lost all countenance.

“And yet,” said the lady Anne, as she listened to his tale, “you assure me, that on this last occasion you had been right in every one of your calculations, and that the enamel was so correctly mixed, and the furnace so well ordered, that one single day was sufficient for the melting. How, then, did you fail?”

“From this unforeseen accident,” said Palissy; “the mortar of which I had erected the furnace, had been full of flints, which burst with the vehement heat, at the same time that the enamels began to liquefy; and the splinters, striking against the pottery, which was covered with the glutinous matter, became fixed there. Thus, all the vessels, which otherwise would have been beautiful, were bestrewn with little morsels of flint, so firmly attached to them that they could not possibly be removed. The distress and embarrassment I felt from this new and unforeseen disaster exceeded all I had before experienced. The more so that several of my creditors, whom I had held in hope to be paid out of the produce of these pieces, had hastened to be present at the drawing of my work, and now seeing themselves disappointed of their long delayed expectations, departed in blank dismay, finding their hopes frustrated.” “Were there none of your pieces that had escaped injury?” “None, madame; it is true, though they were all more or less blemished, they would hold water, and there were some who would have bought them of me at a mean price, but because that would have been a decrying and abasing of my honour, I broke in pieces the entire batch from the said furnace, and lay down in melancholy – not without cause, for I had no longer any means to feed my family. After a while, however, reflecting that if a man should fall into a pit, it would be his duty to endeavour to get out again, I, Palissy, being in like case, resolved to exert myself in making paintings, and in various ways taking pains to recover a little money.” “A wise resolve,” replied the lady; “and one in which it will be in my power to assist you. But hark! there sounds a horn, which I know to be that of my lord, and it announces his approach, accompanied by Monseigneur, the duke de Montmorency. An idea strikes me; his highness has great taste for ornamental art; his patronage would secure the fortune of one who possesses your skill in designing. Bring hither to-morrow your paintings and sketches of animals, foliage, and groups, not forgetting the designs of your vases, and I will take occasion to present them to the notice of Monseigneur.”

The lady was as good as her word; and, as she had foreseen, Montmorency was struck with the marks of genius perceptible even in these early and imperfect productions of the great artist, and he immediately decided to afford Palissy an opportunity of exercising his talents in his service.

In this manner did the great constable first become acquainted with Palissy. A few years later he was intrusted with important charges in the pot decoration of the celebrated château d’Écouen, one of the most famous architectural works of France in that day.

The building of this château, distant about four leagues from Paris, had been one of the principal amusements of the wealthy marshal, during his seasons of forced leisure, when the sunshine of royal favour had deserted him. The architect employed upon it was Jean Bullant, who afterwards enjoyed the patronage of Cathurine de Medici, and assisted in the building of the Tuilleries. Of the work contributed by Palissy towards the decoration of the château, nothing remains in the present day but the beautiful pavement in the chapel and galleries. Much time was employed by him in the painting and enamelling of the decorated tiles which compose this pavement. The designs were all his own, of subjects taken by him from the Scriptures, very highly finished, and so admirably arranged and contrived as to give to the whole a surprisingly rich effect of beautiful colouring, surpassing, it is said, that of the finest turkey carpeting.

In one part of the sacristy the passion of our Lord was represented upon pottery, in sixteen pictures, in a single frame, copied from the designs of Albert Durer, by the hand of Palissy. Of this piece, and of another painted by him on glass, representing the history of Psyche, after the designs of Raffaelle, there remain only representations upon paper.² Of all the windows of Écouen, Palissy is also said to have been the painter; nor must we omit to mention that in a grove of the garden there was formerly a fountain, called “Fontaine Madame,” to which was attached a rustic grotto, of which Palissy always spoke with pride, as one of the chief triumphs of his handiwork. His skill and ingenuity were exerted in the adornment of the grotto; and the rock from whence the cascade fell was a grand specimen of his painted pottery. Figures of frogs and fishes were placed in and about the water, lizards were upon the rock, and serpents were coiled upon the grass. And, that devout thoughts might be awakened in the breasts of those who came to enjoy the sweets of this pleasant retreat, its pious artificer had contrived that on a rustic frieze, should be inscribed in a mosaic, formed with various coloured stones, the text we have chosen as the motto of this chapter.

“HO, EVERY ONE THAT THIRSTETH, COME YE TO THE WATERS.”

Probably the formation of the fountain, and the arrangements made for its supply, were suggested by Palissy, whose acute observation in the study of nature had, by that time, led him to the discovery of the true theory of springs. “I have had no other book than heaven and earth, which are open to all,” he was wont to say, and upon all subjects connected with the study of that marvellous volume, Palissy was assuredly far in advance of the men of his time. He delighted in grottoes and fountains of waters, and his inquiry into the sources of natural fountains conducted him to the true solution of an enigma which baffled all the skill of Descartes.³

We are, however, antedating the course of this narrative. At the time of Palissy’s introduction to the constable, he was about forty years old, and his labour to discover the enamel ware had been spread over a period of some eight years. It cost him eight years more during which he endured great toil and numerous mishaps, before he attained full perfection in the moulding and enamelling of ornamental pottery. But from this time he did not lack patronage, and business was always to be obtained sufficient for the supply of household necessities. We shall presently have occasion to return with him again to the detail of his trials and struggles, and to hear of privation and distress yet to be endured in the prosecution of the object of his ambition. But first we are about to see him in a new aspect, and it will be necessary to interrupt the story of his toil in the pursuit of art, while we dwell upon some other facts in his history, by which his mind was exercised, and his character, as a man and a Christian, formed and illustrated.

CHAPTER VI

“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

– Job i. 21,

Some six or seven years have passed away since we last saw Palissy; and it is now the month of February, 1557…

The short day is just drawing to a close, and our old friend, who is sitting with a book open before him, has given over the effort to continue reading, and is pensively resting, with his hand supporting his head, which now begins to show a few silvery threads among the long dark brown hair that overshadows the brow. His lips are moving, and he utters the words he has just perused on the page of that holy book with which he has formed so close and reverent an acquaintance. “Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.” “Even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight.” And he sighed deeply, and rising, went slowly toward a corner of the chamber, where was placed a baby’s cot. Bending down, he raised the covering that shrouded the infant form which rested there. It was that of a girl some few months old, who looked so like a marble statue, that, at first sight, you would have said, “It is the work of the sculptor.” But no; the eyes were slightly open, and the lashes drooped over the violet orbs, that even in death seemed beautiful.

The father stooped to kiss the fair delicate face, and then kneeled down beside the cot, to read more closely the innocent features by the fading twilight that still lingered.

He had remained several minutes thus absorbed in thought, and prayerfully abstracted in spirit, when suddenly a low and peculiar noise was heard close to the window. It roused him from his reverie, and he quickly lifted his eyes. Again the sound met his ear, and immediately he rose, and going to the door, looked abroad, and uttered a signal cry, responsive to the one he had heard. “It is Philebert Hamelin,” he exclaimed, and the next instant his friend stood beside him. Most heartily did Palissy receive his unexpected visitor, and bade him welcome to his lowly roof, where he might be in safety, seeing its owner was then under the patronage of Sire Antoine, who had commanded that the premises of the potter should be held inviolate from all intrusion.

After discharging the duties of hospitality, and seeing the wants of his guest supplied, Bernard seated himself beside Hamelin, and the two fell into long and earnest discourse.

They spoke, as was natural, first of the domestic circumstances of Palissy, and of the bereavement that now weighed heavily upon him. It was the sixth of his children from whom he had been called to part in their tender age, and his spirit was cast down within him. Hamelin, who had a soul full of tender sensibilities, felt his eyes fill with tears as he listened to the sorrows of his friend, and lovingly sought to comfort him.

After a time he inquired for the two boys, Nicole and Mathurin, who were the sole survivors of so numerous a family. “They are grown tall and hearty, and will soon take their part in the workshop,” said Palissy. “The younger is a sharp wit. Certain monks of the Sorbonne were sent, last summer, into this town and many others of the diocese, to win over the people to allow their woods to be cut down for the king’s pleasure. They made strange gestures and grimaces, and all their discourses were nothing but outcry against the new Christians. It chanced that one of them, as he was preaching, taught how it behoved men to purchase heaven by their good works; but Mathurin, who stood there listening, exclaimed, ‘That’s blasphemy! for the Bible tells us that Christ purchased heaven by his sufferings and death, and bestows it on us freely by his mercy.’ He spoke so loud that many heard, and some disturbance ensued. Happily, Victor was near by, and he sheltered the lad, who might otherwise have paid dearly for his unadvised utterance.” “In good truth,” said Master Philebert, “it was a perilous deed, and these are fearful times. When a child of fifteen is not deemed too young for the stake, when young maidens have been stabbed for their singing, and fellow-tradesmen broken on the wheel for exercising liberty of conscience, then it is no marvel if our children, being taught the truths of God’s word, should exchange their youthfulness of manner for a manly fortitude, and should be ready sternly to sing their hymns in the free air of heaven.”

The conversation now turned upon Geneva, from whence Hamelin had recently come. He was one of those agents who, at the instigation of Calvin, travelled through the length and breadth of France, spreading the Reformed tenets, sometimes reading the Scriptures and pious books – sometimes preaching the word and exhorting, and above all, providing for the establishment of a gospel ministry; everywhere taking occasion to search out pastors to undertake the charge of those small and despised flocks that were scattered about in the hamlets and towns.

The marvellous energy of the great Reformer was unceasingly at work in various ways. He encouraged many French refugees to become booksellers or printers; he formed numerous schools for the training of his disciples; and Geneva, under his auspices, became the metropolis of the Reformed religion; the centre of a vast propagandist system, and one of the most famous schools of learning and theology. It is almost impossible to conceive how he could support the immense labours of his latter years. He preached almost every day; gave three theological lessons in the week; assisted at all the consistorial deliberations, and all the assemblies of the clergy, and was the soul of their counsels. He carried on, besides, an immense correspondence throughout Europe, and published, every year, some work on theology or controversy. With all these labours and many others, he was, nevertheless, of a feeble constitution, and all his life long suffered under various maladies. Hamelin gave the following graphic description of his personal appearance at this period: “He resembles an old hermit, emaciated by long vigils and fasting; his cheeks are sunken, his forehead furrowed, his face colourless as that of a corpse, but his brilliant eyes glow with an unearthly fire. His figure is slightly bowed, the bones seem bursting through the skin, but his step is steady, and his tread firm.”

The two friends spoke next upon a subject of deep interest to both. By the advice, and at the instigation of Hamelin, Bernard had, for a considerable time, been in the habit of gathering together a small company of poor people on sabbath days, to read the Scriptures, and to make exhortations weekly. At first their number did not exceed nine or ten, and they were indigent and illiterate men, nevertheless they had the matter at heart, and from this small beginning was established a church which, in a few years, grew and flourished. Very simple and touching is Palissy’s account of the manner in which he, “moved with an earnest desire for the advancement of the gospel,” daily searched the Scriptures with Victor; and how at length the two, taking counsel together, one Sunday morning assembled a few neighbours, to whom Bernard read “certain passages and texts which he had put down in writing, and offered for their consideration.” First, he showed them how each man, according to the gifts he had received, should distribute them to others, and that every tree which bore not fruit, must be cut down and cast into the fire. He also propounded to them the Parable of the Talents, and a great number of such texts; and afterwards exhorted them, to the effect that it was the duty of all people to speak of the statutes and ordinances of God, and that his doctrine must not be despised on account of his own abject estate, seeing that God little esteems those things which men account great. For, while he gives wisdom, birth, or worldly greatness, to such as shall never see his face, he calls to the inheritance of glory poor despised creatures, who are looked upon as the offscouring and refuse of the world. These, he raises from the dunghill, setting them with princes, and making them his sons and daughters. “Oh, the wonder!” He then begged his auditors to follow his example, and do as he had been doing; which he so successfully urged, that they resolved that same hour, that six of their number should make exhortations weekly; that is to say, each of them once in six weeks, on the Sunday. And it was agreed that “since they undertook a business in which they had never been instructed, they should put down in writing what they had to say, and read before the assembly.” “That was,” said Palissy, “the beginning of the Reformed Church of Saintes.” Six poor and unlearned men were all who had the boldness, with resolute hearts, to form themselves into a worshipping assembly of Protestant Christians in that town, which had so recently beheld the burning of a heretic.

We seek in the chronicles of earthly glory for the names of our famous heroes, patriots, and statesmen. The only annals in which the name of our potter is recorded are those of the despised Huguenot church of Saintes. In a contemporary list of preachers we find mentioned Bernard Palissy.

We have no other record of the manner in which his ministrations were carried on, than those few sentences just given; but we know that the doctrine of the Reformed Church of France was identical with that of Luther. The motto of that school was, “The word of God is sufficient.” “To know Christ and his word, this is the only living, universal theology; he who knows this knows all,” said the two men who first proclaimed the gospel in Paris. The doctrine of justification by faith overturned at one sweep the subtleties of the schoolmen, and the practices of Popery. “It is God alone,” said Lefèvre, within the walls of the Sorbonne, “who by his grace, through faith, justifies unto everlasting life. There is a righteousness of works, there is a righteousness of grace; the one cometh from man, the other from God; one is earthly, and passeth away, the other is heavenly and eternal; one is the shadow and the sign, the other the light and the truth; one makes sin known to us that we may escape death, the other reveals grace that we may obtain life.” “We are saved by grace, through faith, and that not of ourselves; it is the gift of God.” This was the great cardinal truth which Palissy taught, and which his hearers received in the love of it.