One of the most illustrious victims of those early times was Louis Berquin, a gentleman of Artois, and an officer of the king's body-guard. "He would have been another Luther for France," says Beza, "if he had found in Francis another Elector of Saxony." Unlike the knights of his time, acquainted only with the helmet and the sword, he was learned, contemplative, frank, open-hearted, and generous to the poor. He had acquired a great reputation at the court of Francis; and, being sheltered by the powerful patronage of his royal master, he studied diligently the works of the Reformers, and soon became one of the most zealous of their converts. His conversion, through the grace of God, proved to be genuine. His learning, his eloquence, his influence, were from that hour all consecrated to the service of the gospel. Many looked to him as the Reformer of his native land. His leisure hours were spent in translating the works of Luther, Melancthon, and Erasmus into French, and writing tracts on the leading doctrines of the christian faith, which he privately printed himself.
This heretic, thought Beda, is worse than Luther; but so unobtrusive was this christian knight, that it was difficult to find a charge on which to found an indictment of heresy. Spies were now employed. A rigorous watch was kept over every word uttered by Berquin. At length witnesses were found to prove that he had asserted it was heretical to invoke the Virgin Mary instead of the Holy Spirit before the sermon in the mass. This was enough; the Syndic, obtaining authority from the parliament to search the dwelling of Berquin, made a forcible seizure of his books and papers, which he laid before the faculty of theology. These were condemned as having a heretical tendency, and Berquin was thrown into prison. "This one," said the sanguinary Beda, "shall not escape us, like Brissonnet and Lefevre." He was kept in solitary confinement, preparatory to his formal trial and certain condemnation to the stake.
Margaret, who had ever professed admiration of Berquin's talents, and had distinguished him by marks of her regard, was immediately informed of his fate, and asked to interest herself in his favor. With the unhappy case of her friend Brissonnet before her, and dreading to see Berquin dragged to the stake, she wrote to her brother. She represented to the king the insolence of the Sorbonne in daring to arrest one of his officers upon so frivolous a pretense, without having first ascertained his royal pleasure. The suggestion touched the pride of Francis who broke out into violent transports of passion, menaced the parliament, and sent an order for the instant liberation of his officer. A second time he was imprisoned, and again the king came to his rescue, advising him to be more prudent. But his strong convictions of duty, as a witness for Christ, could not be suppressed. He labored to spread the truth among the poor in the country, and among his friends in the city, and at the court. But the burning desire of his heart was to communicate his convictions to all France. A third time he was imprisoned, and the Sorbonne thought that this time they had made sure of their prey. The king was a prisoner at Madrid; Louisa was all-powerful at Paris, and along with Duprat, the unprincipled chancellor, supported the persecutors. But no: Margaret's word again prevailed with her impulsive brother, and a royal order, dated April 1st, 1526, commanded the suspension of the matter until the king's return.
When again at liberty, his lukewarm friends entreated him to avoid giving offense to the doctors who had evidently marked him for destruction. Erasmus, in particular, who, having learned that he was about to publish a translation of one of his Latin works with the addition of notes, wrote to him letter upon letter to persuade him to desist. "Leave these hornets alone," he said, "above all, do not mix me up in these things; my burden is already heavy enough. If it is your pleasure to dispute, be it so; as for me, I have no desire of the kind." Again he wrote, "Ask for an embassy to some foreign country; travel in Germany. You know Beda and his familiars; a thousand-headed hydra is shooting out its venom on all sides. The name of your enemies is Legion. Were your cause better than that of Jesus Christ, they will not let you go until they have brought you to a cruel end. Do not trust in the protection of the king. But in any case do not commit me with the faculty of theology." This letter, so characteristic of the timid philosopher, who always steered a middle course between the gospel and popery, only redoubled the courage of Berquin. He determined to stand no longer on the defensive, but to attack. He set to work, and extracted from the writings of Beda and his brethren, twelve propositions which he accused before Francis of being false, contrary to the Bible, and heretical.
The Sorbonnists were confounded. The outcry was tremendous. What! even the defenders of the faith, the pillars of the church, taxed with heresy by a Lutheran, who had deserved death a thousand times. The king, however, not sorry to have an opportunity of humbling these turbulent doctors, commanded them to condemn or to establish the twelve propositions from scripture. This might have been a difficult task for the doctors; the matter was assuming a grave turn, when an accident occurred which turned everything in favor of the Sorbonne. An image of the Virgin happened to be mutilated just at that moment in one of the quarters of Paris. "It is a vast plot," cried the priests; "it is a great conspiracy against religion, against the prince, against the order and tranquility of the country! All laws will be overthrown; all dignities abolished: this is the fruit of the doctrines preached by Berquin!" At the cries of the Sorbonne, the priests, the parliament, and of the people, the king himself was greatly excited. Death to the image-breakers! No quarter to the heretics! And Berquin is in prison a fourth time.