Meanwhile Farel prayed and preached, and Baudichon, who was in the neighborhood of Berne, was looking around for someone who would take up the cause of the persecuted city. “Believe me,” he wrote to the Council of Geneva, “God will deliver us from the hand of our enemies. And do not be dismayed at the long delay. You will see wonders before long, and know how God can help us. Therefore be on your guard, and consent to no terms which are not, in the first place, for the honor of God and His holy gospel; and see to it that the Word of God is not bound.”
The council were of like mind with Baudichon. They called together the priests who were left in Geneva—thirty priests, out of nine hundred who had found their home there in the days of the bishop. “We have given you three months,” said the council, “to find proofs that the mass and the images are according to the Word of God. Let us hear what you have got to say.” A priest called Dupan answered for the rest. “We are not so daring,” he said, “as to think we can improve upon those things which have been taught by our spiritual fathers, and decided by the Church; but, as for doing what you demand of us, we have neither the power nor the learning that are needed.” “We determine then,” said the council, “that henceforward you say mass no more; and, instead of doing so, you are to go and hear the preaching, that you may learn what God would have you do.” “It is quite reasonable,” added the council of two hundred, “that those who profess to be pastors and teachers should first be willing to learn;" and, as the priests had pleaded their ignorance, this remark was much to the point. Some of the priests decided that they would leave Geneva. The others were willing to obey the orders of the council. They might remain in the city, on condition that they dressed themselves as other citizens, and conformed to the laws: they were to be priests no more. And now the deed was done which Farel had so long and so vainly urged upon the council. “It is not enough,” he had told them, “to conform yourselves personally to the gospel. It is right that you should make the public acknowledgment that the mass is idolatry, and that the Word of God is to be put in the place of the inventions of men.” The council had at last made an open confession of Christ, and they were now to see the deliverance of God.
There would not be space in this little history to tell you of all the variety of events which, in the counsels of God, worked together at this time for the help of the little flock who were thus witnessing for Christ. The death of Queen Catherine of Arragon in England, the quarrel of the King of France with the Duke of Savoy and with the Emperor Charles, the jealousy of Berne, lest the King of France should seize upon Savoy and take Geneva under his protection; all these were links in the chain which was to bind the hands of Satan in his attack upon the gospellers’ city. Man can see the outward events, the movements of kings and armies; but the power of God, and the power of Satan—the unseen springs of all these movements —can be seen by the eye of faith alone.
When Geneva was reduced to the last extremity, a messenger from Berne made his way into the city. He brought a written message from the council. It was that Father Furbity should be set free. But this message had been given him, in case he should be caught on his way by the governor of the Pays de Vaud. The message with which he was really sent was to be given by word of mouth. “In three days,” he said, “you will see the castles of the Pays de Vaud in flames. The Bernese are coming! “I cannot here relate to you all the dangers and difficulties through which the army of Berne was making its way. I will only say that the three days passed by; and then, when the citizens of Geneva looking anxiously from their battlements, they saw the sky red with the flames of the burning castles. The Bernese soldiers had been charged to destroy these dens of robbers, to break the images in the towns and villages through which they passed, but spare all men, women, and children, except those who came in arms to meet them.
The Pays de Vaud was in the hands of Berne, and on the 2nd of February, 1536 the victorious army entered Geneva. The city of the gospellers was free! “In the year 1536, and in the month of February,” wrote Anthony Froment, “Geneva was delivered from her enemies by the providence of God.”
The Duke of Savoy could make no resistance. The King of France was in arms against him; the emperor had deserted his cause. Four months from that time he was driven from Savoy by the French. “All kinds of disasters,” we are told, “fell upon him at once. His country was wasted by the plague; his friends turned against him, his son, the heir to his crown, was taken away by death; his beautiful and haughty wife, Beatrice of Portugal, pierced to the heart by so many misfortunes, died of a wasting sickness. Of all his states there was nothing left but two or three cities.” He died at last, haunted by the thought of Geneva and the gospellers. And the bishop, Peter de la Baume? He lived on for a while in his French castle. And one day, before God’s great white throne, he will stand to give account of the work he did as chief pastor of Geneva.
The Bernese did their work thoroughly and completely. The Castle of Peney was utterly demolished; the Castle of Chillon was taken. The governor had received orders from Savoy to torture first, and then kill the prisoners of Geneva, as soon as the castle should be threatened by the Bernese. There were there not only the three officers from Coppet, but the prior of the convent of St. Victor at Geneva, whose name was Bonivard. He had been one of the first of the Genevans who had risen up to defend the liberties of the city. He had been six years in the dungeons of Chillon. If you go there now, you are still shown the traces on the rocky floor worn by the feet of Bonivard, as he paced round the pillar of the dark vault where he was kept. The Bernese soldiers scarcely hoped to find the prisoners alive. But the governor had been too much afraid of Berne to touch a hair of their heads. With joy and triumph they were brought back to Geneva. But the work of William Farel was not so speedily done as the work of Berne. To the eyes of man the enemies of Geneva had melted away like the winter snow. But the great enemy of Christ, of whom all the other enemies were but the helpless tools, had other means of attack. He had failed to crush the gospel by the power of the bishop and by the armies of Savoy. He would make his next attempt by enemies within the city; but for awhile these enemies did not show themselves. All were alike rejoicing in their deliverance. Some, like the one leper, gave thanks to Him from whom their help had come. Some glorified in their freedom, saying, “Who is lord over us?” For to them the easy yoke of Christ would be a far heavier burden than the yoke of Savoy. The service of God would be to them a more grievous bondage than the service of the prince-bishop. But of this they knew little as yet. They only knew that the duke and the bishop, the priests and the monks had vanished, and that Geneva was free.