Kitabı oku: «Palissy the Huguenot Potter», sayfa 4

CHAPTER VII

“He had respect unto the recompense of the reward.”

– Hebrews xi. 26.

The morrow after Hamelin’s unexpected visit to his friend was Sunday, and he gladly embraced the opportunity, so soon as the shadows of night had spread their friendly veil, to slip through the streets, and repair to the place of meeting, where he exhorted and prayed with the little congregation, bidding them be of good cheer, and encouraging them with the hope, that before long, they should have a minister to take the charge of them. The next day he departed for Allevert, where, being kindly received by many of the people, he remained some time, calling them together by the sound of a bell, to listen to his exhortations, and also baptizing a child. Tidings of these proceedings were not long in reaching Saintes, and a great stir was immediately raised by divers officials of the town, who instigated the bishop at that time in residence, to authorize proceedings against Hamelin.

So slenderly provided was the poor Huguenot, that he had taken with him no other outfit than a simple staff in his hand; neither purse nor scrip had he, nor carried any weapon of defence. Alone, and without fear, he went his way, solely intent on the errand he was about. His friend, who evidently regarded him with the utmost love and reverence, after describing his defenceless condition, his poverty, and his trustful spirit, humorously contrasts with all this the extravagant and absurd measures adopted by his enemies, who “constrained the bishop to produce money for the maintenance of a pursuit of the said Philebert, with horses, gendarmes, cooks, and cutlers.” With all this fuss and ado, they speedily transferred themselves to the islands of Allevert, where they re-baptized the child – thus, as far as was in their power, repairing the mischief done by the heretic, whom, though they failed to catch him in that place, they shortly discovered in the mansion of one of the neighbouring gentry; and, laying forcible hands on him, they carried him off as a malefactor, to the criminals’ prison in Saintes, where they lodged him in safe custody.

Sore was the grief of Palissy when he learned that the friend whom he esteemed above all others, had thus been captured by wicked men; and well he knew that they had both power and will to destroy Hamelin. Indignation struggled in his breast with sorrow; and as he reflected on the blameless conversation, pure charity, and simple-heartedness of the man, he exclaimed – “I am full of wonder that men should have dared to sit in judgment of death over him, when they had heard and well knew, that his life was holy.” Not content with passively bewailing his friend’s calamity, he tells that he mustered hardihood, notwithstanding that these were perilous days, “to go and remonstrate with six of the principal judges and magistrates of the town, that they had imprisoned a prophet or an angel of the Lord,” assuring them that for eleven years he had known this Philebert Hamelin to be of so holy a life that it seemed to him as if other men were devils compared with him.

Strong and impetuous language, prompted by the indignant earnestness of a loving and faithful heart, which set at nought all selfish considerations! It was, indeed, no light risk our noble-hearted Bernard was incurring. The edict of Châteaubriand had recently appeared, aggravating all former penalties, forbidding all assistance to those who were of the new religion, and all refuge of them; offering rewards to such as should denounce them, and, in short, rendering the laws against heresy so stringent, that the life of any one known to be a heretic depended wholly on the sufferance of his neighbours. In the face of such a danger, Palissy went to the very men who were officially engaged to punish his rashness, and boldly remonstrating with them, proclaimed the innocence and virtue of their prisoner. This courageous and honourable conduct was fruitless. The judges, indeed, showed sufficient humanity not to avail themselves of his boldness as a weapon against himself; they even heard him with courtesy, and tried to excuse themselves in reference to Hamelin’s condemnation. To use Palissy’s words – “The better to come by a wash for their hands, that would acquit their hearts, they reasoned that he had been a priest in the Roman church; therefore they sent him to Bordeaux, with good and sure guard, by a provost-marshal.” Thus they set the seal to his doom; for Bordeaux was well-known to be the waiting-chamber to the scaffold.

An effort was made, while yet Hamelin remained imprisoned at Saintes, to procure his release, which deserves to be mentioned on more than one account. The tidings of his captivity had spread abroad, among the neighbouring districts, and reached the ears of a little church founded by him in a somewhat remote region. These poor people, with overflowing hearts, when the evil tidings reached them, lost no time in considering how they might best help to procure the release of one whom they loved and honoured as their spiritual father. The result of their deliberation was apparent, when, the day previous to his removal to Bordeaux, an advocate came secretly to the prison-house in which Hamelin lay, and offered to the jail-keeper the sum of 300 livres, provided he would, that night, put the captive outside the prison door. The bribe was tempting; and the frail official hesitated, desiring first, however, to take counsel of Master Philebert in the matter. His magnanimous reply was that he chose rather to perish by the hands of the executioner than to expose another man to peril, for the purpose of securing his own safety. On hearing this, the advocate, taking back his money, returned to those who had sent him. “I ask you,” said Palissy, as he recounted this worthy conduct of his friend, “which is he among us who would do the like, being at the mercy of enemies, as he was?”

It was a sad meeting of the infant church when they assembled on the Sabbath after Hamelin’s death. They looked each other in the face, and sorrowfully proceeded to the sacred exercises of the hour. After the service was concluded, Palissy introduced to them a minister, named De La Place, who had been chosen by their deceased friend to undertake the office of pastor in Allevert. The events which had since befallen rendered it, however, highly dangerous and undesirable that he should repair thither for a time; and he had received notice, warning him to abstain from proceeding on his journey.

In compliance with this intimation he had stopped short at Saintes where he remained in safety with Bernard, who now made him known to the brethren, and they with one accord prayed him to stay among them and minister the word of God. Thus were they, most unexpectedly, supplied with a pastor.

Before the assembly broke up, Victor, calm in manner, though with intense feeling, narrated to them some touching incidents he had learned of the last hours of their martyred friend. He had not been alone; a companion in tribulation shared his sufferings and death, whom Philebert had strengthened in the hour of trial by his own quiet confidence and joyful anticipation of the future that awaited them. On the morning fixed for their execution he awoke his comrade, who was sleeping in the same cell, and pointing with his hand to the splendid sunrise just visible on the eastern horizon, he exclaimed, “Let us rejoice; for, if the aspect of nature, and the return of daylight, be so beautiful on earth, what will it be to-morrow, when we shall behold the mansions of heaven?”

His composure and piety affected even the stern jailer, who was so much impressed with what he saw and heard that he had spoken of it to one who secretly sympathized with the martyrs, and related everything to Victor. When conveyed to the gibbet, Hamelin remained self-possessed, and a divine peace was visible on his countenance. He was asked once more, if he would renounce his errors, and return to the true faith, but, unmoved, and steadfast in hope, he sang a hymn, making no other reply to the importunities of those around him than this, “I die for the name of Jesus Christ.” His last words were, “Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.”

When Victor had concluded his narrative, Palissy said, “You have heard, brethren, the end of this child of God, to whom we are indebted in no small degree; for if there be among us any of that Christian fellowship in love which is the blessed product of communion with the members of the body of Christ, we must assuredly trace it to his influence. All that has been done among us is the result of the good example, counsel, and doctrine of this brother, beloved in the Lord. And think you,” he continued – his eye kindling, and his voice tremulous with emotion – “that they who condemned the just will be excused on the plea of ignorance? Assuredly the judges of this town knew well that his life was holy; nevertheless, they acted through fear, lest they should lose their offices: so we must understand it. And thus they delivered him up, and caused him to be hung like a thief. But, will not God avenge his elect? Will he not show that precious in his sight is the death of these, his witnesses? Truly, a rich harvest has always sprung up from the blood of the martyrs, and the ashes of the just, scattered to the four winds of heaven, have been as the seed of the kingdom.”

These words of the noble-hearted potter recall to our minds what Luther had spoken, some thirty years before this period, when tidings reached him of the persecution and death of some of his followers. “At length,” he exclaimed, “Christ is gathering some fruit from our labours, and is creating new martyrs. Their bonds are our bonds; their dungeons our dungeons; and their fires our fires. We are all with them, and the Lord himself is at our head. He afterwards celebrated these first victims of the Reformation in a noble hymn, whose strains were speedily heard echoing throughout Germany, and everywhere spreading enthusiasm for the cause —

 
“They ride the air – they will not down,
The ashes of the just;
Nor graves can hide, nor waters drown,
That spirit-pregnant dust.
Where’er the winds that seed have flung
Soldiers are gendered;
And Satan’s foiled, and Christ is sung
By voices from the dead.”⁴
 

The early years of the little Reformed church of Saintes were very troublesome ones. It was established, in the outset, with great difficulties and imminent perils, and those who ventured to enroll themselves among its number were blamed and vituperated with perverse and wicked calumnies. The ignorance and superstition of that age and country were called into active exercise against the adherents of the new faith, and the vilest slanders were fabricated against them, and accredited even by those who witnessed their blameless lives. Most frequently their meetings for religious worship were held during the hours of darkness, for fear of their enemies; and occasion was taken from this circumstance to insinuate that, if their doctrine were good, they would preach it openly. They were even accused of wickedness and unchaste conduct in their assemblies; nor were there wanting some “of the baser sort” who said that the heretics had dealings with the devil, whose tail they went to kiss by the light of a rosin candle. Notwithstanding all these things, however, the church continued to exist, and to grow; and after a time, it made surprising increase. The timid commencement, the rapid advance, and, finally, the successful establishment and prevalence of the Reformed tenets in Saintes, were all noted by Palissy, with loving fidelity. He scanned, with the eye of a Christian and a philosopher, the dealings of God’s providence; and watchfully observed the various ways in which his purposes of wisdom and mercy were brought to pass.

It is remarked, by a Roman Catholic historian of the day, that “the painters, clock-makers, modellers, jewellers, booksellers, printers, and others, who, although in humble trades, have still some exercise for thought, were the first to adopt these new ideas.” What a pleasing and instructive fact, proving, as it does, that not only for the rich and leisurely, the learned and studious, are reserved those best and choicest gifts of God – the seeing eye, the hearing ear, and the heart wise to discern the heavenly wisdom of the cross! Nowhere could we find an instance more strikingly in point than that afforded us by the life of Palissy. While he laboured with enthusiasm and devoted earnestness at the calling of his choice (and of his necessity), his most precious, his chosen pursuit was not his art, but the knowledge and service of God his Saviour. He obeyed the sacred mandate, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” and girding himself to the conflict with error, his soul became possessed with a holy enthusiasm; and having assumed to himself the right of free inquiry, he did not scruple to make bold confession of his faith.

CHAPTER VIII

“In all labour there is profit.”

– Prov. xiv. 23

Probably, the happiest time of Palissy’s life is that at which we are now arrived. He may be accounted to have reached the end of his great period of struggle as a potter. He was labouring prosperously in his vocation; he was yet in the vigour of his age, and he had, above all, the enjoyment of feeling that he had solved the problem and effected the object for which he had endured a long struggle with privation and contumely. We will not dwell on the remaining disappointments he had been doomed to suffer before he attained this point. They were numerous and painful in the extreme. We get a passing glimpse of them in the following incident. One day he encountered a friend whom he had not seen for many a long year. He had first met with him in the days of his youth at Tarbes, where they had worked together, and listened in company to the teachings of Hamelin. His companion had, in consequence, embraced the Reformed doctrine, and afterwards became one of the colporteurs employed in the circulation of religious books. In the course of his wanderings he had occasionally visited Saintes, but it was long since he had been there. As on former occasions, he now eagerly sought out Palissy, to whom he related much of deep interest with reference to the progress of religious truth throughout the provinces of France, while, at the same time, he drew a distressing picture of the fearful sufferings of all classes; for it has been said, and probably with little exaggeration, that in France during the sixteenth century, there scarcely lived a poor rustic, the current of whose life was not distressed and troubled by the course of state affairs; and who had not been, or was not destined at some time of his life to be, heavily bruised by a hard-fisted government. Having finished his narrative, the worthy man asked of Bernard some particulars concerning his own history, and that which had transpired in the good town of Saintes during the last few years.

“For myself,” replied Palissy, “I may say matters are now, comparatively speaking, prosperous with me. Much have I suffered, however, since I last saw you. During the space of fifteen or sixteen years in all, I have blundered on at my business. When I had learned to guard against one danger, there came another on which I had not reckoned. I made several furnaces, which caused me great losses, before I understood how to heat them equally. At last I found means to make various vessels of different enamels, intermixed, in the manner of jasper. That fed me several years; and, when at length, I had discovered how to make my rustic pieces,⁵ I was in greater trouble and vexation than before, for having made a certain number of them, and put them to bake, my enamels turned out, some beautiful and well melted, and others quite the reverse; because they were composed of different materials, which were fusible in different degrees. Thus, the green of the lizards was burnt long before the colour of the serpents was melted; and the colour of the serpents, lobsters, tortoises, and crabs, was melted before the white had attained any beauty. All these defects caused me such labour and heaviness of spirit, that, before I could render my enamels fusible at the same degree of heat, I verily thought I should be at the door of my sepulchre.” “Nay, my friend, you look tolerably stout, at present, and carry your fifty years as well as most men.” “It may be so,” was the reply, “but you would have thought otherwise, had you seen me some time since, for, from incessant labour and anxiety, in the space of more than ten years, I had so fallen away in my person, that there was no longer any form in my legs or roundness in my arms; insomuch that my limbs were all one thickness, and as soon as I began to walk, the strings with which I fastened the bottom of my hose dropped about my heels, together with my stockings. I frequently used to walk in the meadows of Saintes, considering my vexation and affliction, and above all, that I could meet with no comfort or approval even in my own house. But, indeed, I was despised and scorned by all. Nevertheless, I always contrived to make some ware of divers colours, which afforded me some sort of a living. The hope which supported me, meantime, gave me such manly courage for my work, that oftentimes, to entertain persons who came to see me, I would endeavour to laugh, although within me I felt very sad.”.. “Who would believe Master Bernard was ever very sad?” said a lively voice, and at the same moment a cavalier entered the workshop, and passing through it, peeped in at the door of the studio where Palissy was seated with his friend. “You are too prosperous a man to speak after that fashion; and your coffers must be filling apace, to judge by the value set on your beautiful designs in pottery.” “The Seigneur de Burie speaks too favourably of my work,” replied Bernard, while his visitor, rapidly glancing round, noticed admiringly some charming things which were in progress of completion, and gave orders for several pieces of enamelled earthenware – specimens of that beautiful sculpture in clay, which was destined, before long, to adorn the mansions and palaces of the nobles of the land.

“M. the Count de la Rochefoucault is eager to visit your studio, Master Bernard,” said the seigneur, as he took his leave; “and his patronage will be valuable to you for more reasons than one. Not only will he give you commissions for your works, but his influence can protect you from the dangers you incur as one of the new religionists. It is true, indeed, that the support of Monseigneur de Montmorency is so powerful as to stand you in sufficient stead; and a man who is intrusted with an important share in his famous building-works at Écouen, will be sure to have a large circle of friends, or, at all events, admirers and employers. Nevertheless, I would say a word of advice in your ear. It is but the other day I met his reverence, the dean of this town, in a courtly circle, where the gentry were discussing the progress of heretical doings, and I heard, with concern, that you had made yourself obnoxious to that dignitary, as well as to the chapter of this place, by your unguarded language. Indeed, excuse me, if I say, it were well to be more circumspect. Is there not a word in the Holy Book which bids us be ‘wise as serpents?’”

“I thank you heartily, monsieur, for the good will you are pleased to show towards me,” said Bernard; “but I do assure you these gentry have none occasion against me, except in that I have urged upon them many times certain passages of Scripture in which it is written that he is unhappy and accursed who drinks the milk and wears the wool of the sheep without providing for their pasture. Assuredly this ought to have incited them to love me, rather than to take umbrage at the words of truth and uprightness. In the mouth of an honest man the language of remonstrance is friendly, and gives none occasion for displeasure.” “By my faith, though,” said the seigneur, laughing heartily, “such reproof must have stung sharply. I trow, the cap fitted too closely. It is notorious that similar language has been spoken in the ears of Majesty itself. The Advocate-General, Séguier, in the name of the parliament of Paris, recently made the king’s ears tingle with his bold utterance. ‘If heresy is to be suppressed,’ said he, ‘let pastors be compelled to labour among their flocks. Commence, sire, by giving an edict to the nation, which will not cover your kingdom with scaffolds, nor be moistened with the blood or tears of your faithful subjects. Distant from your presence – bent beneath the toil of labour in the fields, or absorbed in the exercise of arts and trades, they cannot plead for themselves. It is in their name that parliament addresses to you its humble remonstrance, and its ardent supplication.’”

“Methinks such counsel was wise and timely. How did the king reply?” “The king? oh, he listened, smiled assent, and went on as before. However, the speech was to good purpose, for the opposition of parliament prevented a most oppressive enactment, against which the appeal was made.”

As the young nobleman turned to leave the apartment, his eye was caught by a carved group, which stood somewhat apart. “Ah! what have we there? How lovely that infant form; it reminds me of my own sweet little Amélie;” and he approached it more nearly. It was a young girl who had caught up a litter of puppies, and was taking them up in the lap of her pinafore to exhibit, their little heads peeping out helplessly over the sides of the cloth, while the mother, fondly and anxiously following its young, had seized the skirt of the child’s dress while she was turning with a smile to quiet its solicitude. “So simple and so natural!” said the young man, who was himself a father. “One sees, at a glance, it is modelled from the life.”

Palissy sighed. “It is from a sketch of my eldest little daughter,” he said, “as she came one day into my garden-house, carrying her new pets, to show me. Alas! it was almost the last time her frolicsome glee delighted my heart, for she fell sick soon after.” “I almost envy you, good Master Bernard, the power thus to perpetuate your reminiscences of past joys. I had rather be a successful artist than a victorious warrior.” And with these words the Seigneur de Burie at length departed.

The two friends, being left to themselves, continued their discourse; and Palissy related at considerable length, the history of his beloved church, now a flourishing community. “The little one has become a thousand,” said he. “Within comparatively a short period we have made rapid strides. When our first minister, De la Place, was with us, it was a pitiable state of affairs, for we had the goodwill, but the power to support the pastors we had not. So that, during the time we had him, he was maintained partly at the expense of the gentry, who frequently invited him. When he removed to Allevert, he was succeeded by M. de la Boissière, whom we have at the present time. For a long time there were very few rich people who joined our congregation, and hence we were often without the means of his support; frequently, therefore, did he content himself with a diet of fruit and vegetables, and water as his drink. Yet, were we not forsaken, nor without manifest tokens of God’s favour and protection. Insomuch that, notwithstanding the enmity of those who sought to destroy the cause, there was no evil suffered to overcome us; but God bridled them, and preserved his church. He fulfilled in our town an admirable work, for there were sent to Toulouse two of the principal opponents, who would not have suffered our assemblies to be public, and it pleased God to detain them at that place for two years or thereabout, in order that they might not hurt his church during the time that he would have it manifested publicly.” “You are then, now so prosperous, as to venture openly to avow your principles?” “Yes; the absence of these two opponents encouraged us, so that we had the hardihood to take the Market Hall in which to hold our meetings; and now that they have returned, though, indeed, their will is to molest and persecute us, as before, yet are matters so much changed that their evil designs are frustrated, and they dare not venture openly to malign a work which has so well prospered that it is changing the whole aspect of the town.”