Palissy the Huguenot Potter

“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.”

CHAPTER IX

“The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.”

– Psalm cxi. 2.

Palissy had not exaggerated when he said that the influence of the Reformed church in Saintes was changing the whole aspect of the town. Though but of short duration, its period of prosperity was bright and happy, and he was prominent among its firm and peaceable supporters. The picture he has drawn of it is a lovely one. “You would have seen in those days,” he says, “fellow-tradesmen, on a Sunday, rambling through the fields, groves, and other places, singing in company psalms, canticles, and spiritual songs – reading and instructing one another. You would also have seen the daughters and maidens, seated by troops, in the gardens and other places, who, in like way, delighted themselves in singing of all holy things. The teachers had so well instructed the young, and affairs had so much prospered, that people had changed their old manners, even to their very countenances.”

Nor was this merely a question of psalm-singing and prayers, he assures us. The Reformation was practical and earnest. Quarrels, dissensions, and hatreds were reconciled; unseemly conduct and debauchery suppressed; and this had been carried so far that “even the magistrates had assumed the control of many evil things which depended on their authority.” Innkeepers were forbidden to have gaming in their houses, and to entertain the householders, whose duty it was to abide with their own families, not eating and drinking their substance elsewhere. Even the enemies of the church were constrained, to their very great regret, to speak well of the ministers, and especially of M. de la Boissière, who seems to have won general respect and esteem by his judicious and manly piety, as well as his pastoral instructions. Thus were the opponents of the gospel fairly silenced, and recourse was had to a system of counteraction, in the shape of a reformation on the part of the Roman Catholics. This went to such a point that Palissy says, “certain of the priests began to take part in the assemblies, and to study and take counsel about the church.” In fact, it was time they should be on the alert, for the monks and ecclesiastics were blamed in common talk; that is, by those who cared nothing for religion, but who were ready enough to throw a stone at these idle shepherds. “Why do you not exhort your people, and pray, as these ministers do?” they asked; “you are paid salaries for preaching.” These taunts reaching the ears of Monsieur, the theologian of the chapter, measures were taken accordingly, and the shrewdest and most subtle monks engaged for the service of the cathedral church. “Thus it happened that, in these days, there was prayer in the town of Saintes every day, from one side or the other.” But the thing which worried the priests more than any other, and which seemed to them very strange, was, that several poor villagers refused to pay tithes, unless they were supplied with ministers. It was certainly a strange thing to see, as Palissy says, when certain farmers, who were no friends to the religion, finding these things so, actually went to the ministers, praying them to exhort the people of the districts they farmed, in order that they might get paid their tithes; the labourers having refused to supply them with corn and fruits on any other conditions. In short, the efforts of the little church had so well prospered, that they had constrained the wicked to become good – at all events, to seem so.

How delightful to think of Bernard now! at his ease, rejoicing in the peace and happiness around him, and in the religious aspect of his town; frequently journeying abroad, to Écouen and elsewhere, to and fro, as his business required, and coming home again, to wander, thoughtfully and tranquilly, among the rocks and fields in which he took such delight. He was now so well supplied with patronage that he might have been growing rich, had he not, with his own ardent zeal and restless energy, been ever expending time, and toil, and money, on new efforts to improve his art. Now, too, he had leisure to pursue those inquiries which, in his character of a naturalist, so deeply interested him. With surprising and marvellous sagacity he penetrated some of the problems which have puzzled the most skilful investigators, and there was always mingled with his love of nature a spirit of glowing and unaffected piety. The bright gladness of his pious soul was as a beaming light that shone upon his path and made it ever radiant.

How skilfully he turned to use all the modes of acquiring knowledge, and what good account he made of his own sharp wits, we see in a little incident he has recorded. It chanced one day, he received a visit from the Dame de la Pons, for whom he was executing a commission, in which the lady felt, naturally, a woman’s interest. She had ordered a complete set of dishes, to be adorned with his favourite “rustic figulines;” the work was progressing favourably; there remained only a few pieces to be completed; and she had come to see and to criticise. “This dish is charming,” said the lady; “the bottom covered with sea weeds and corals, while the fish, with open fins, seem darting across the water. Really, one can fancy the slight tremor of the tail, so like the helm of the living ship. The cray-fish, too, the spider of the waters, stretches his long claws as if to grip the rock, and shrink into its crevices.” “And see this one, mamma,” said her daughter, who had accompanied her, “this is for the fresh water fish. Look at the edges, fringed with the dank mosses, and the sides covered with the broad leaves of the plants. It is the subaqueous world of waters, with all the leaves, stems, and flags of the marsh, and its aquatic animals, transferred to clay, as true in form, and as brilliant in colours, as if a housemaid had dipped one of her plates in the stream, and drawn it out, filled to the brim, with the plants, shells, and animals of the brook.” “It is admirable,” said her mother. Palissy’s eyes sparkled, for praise is sweet; and what son of Adam is there to whom it does not come doubly welcome from the lips of a woman?

“What a curious shell is this!” exclaimed Madame, taking up one, from which Palissy was modelling. “That comes from the shores of Oléron,” said the artist; “there are numbers more on yonder table,” and he pointed to one, covered with a multitude of similar ones. “I engaged a score of women and children to search for them on the rocks. And now, lady, I must tell you something curious about those shells. Only a day or two after they were brought to me, I chanced to call on M. Babaret, the advocate, who, you know, is a man famous for his love of letters and the arts. We fell into some discussion upon a point in natural history, and he showed me two shells exactly similar to these – urchin shells;6 but which were quite massive; and he maintained that the said shells had been carved by the hand of the workman, and was quite astonished when I maintained, against him, that they were natural. Since that time, I have collected a number of these shells converted into stones.” “You surprise me,” said his attentive hearer; “I was indeed greatly puzzled myself, some years since, when I chanced to find certain stones embedded in rock, made in the fashion of a ram’s horn, though not so long nor so crooked, but commonly arched, and about half a foot long. I could not imagine, nor have I ever known how they could have been formed.” “Your description, madame, much interests me; for, it so happens that I have also seen, nay, possess, a stone of the kind you describe, which was brought to me one day by Pierre Guoy, citizen and sheriff of the town of Saintes. He found, in his farm, one of these very stones, which was half-open, and had certain indentations, that fitted admirably, one into the other. Well knowing how curious I am about such things, he made me a present of it, which I was greatly rejoiced at; for I had seen, as I walked along the rocks in this neighbourhood, some similar stones, which had awakened my curiosity; and from that time I understand that these stones had formerly been the shells of a fish, which fish we see no more at the present day.” He then showed his visitors the picture of a rock, in the Ardennes, near the village of Sedan, in which were paintings of all the species of shells that it contained.

“The inhabitants of that place,” said he, “daily hew the stone from that mountain to build; and in doing so, the said shells are found at the lowest, as well as at the highest part; that is, inclosed in the densest stones. I am certain that I saw one kind which was sixteen inches in diameter. From this I infer that the rock, which is full of many kinds of shells, has formerly been a marine bed, producing fishes.” “You speak as if stones grew, or were made, in process of time,” said the lady; “while we know that from the beginning, God made heaven and earth. He made also the stones; and from that time there have been none made, for all things have been finished from the commencement of the world.”7

“It is indeed, madame, written in the book of Genesis that God created all things in six days, and that he rested on the seventh. But yet, for all that, God did not make these things to leave them idle. Therefore, each performs its duty according to the commandment it received from him. The stars and planets are not idle. The sea wanders from one place to another, and labours to bring forth profitable things. The earth likewise is never idle; that which decays naturally within her, she forms over again; if not in one shape she will reproduce it in another. It is certain that if, since the creation of the world, no stones had grown within the earth, it would be difficult to find any number of them, for they are constantly being dissolved and pulverized by the effects of frosts, and an infinite number of other accidents, which daily spoil, consume, and reduce stone to earth.” “You tell us startling things; very hard to be understood, Master Bernard,” said the Dame de la Pons, “yet full of deep interest to one who loves to note the wonderful works of creation, and would fain learn to see them with discernment as well as admiration.” Palissy paused from his work, (he had continued to sketch while he conversed,) and opening a cabinet with drawers which stood near him, he showed the ladies several specimens of fossils and minerals, which in his enthusiastic researches he had collected; for, with the acuteness of a philosophic observer, he had perceived the importance of a detailed study of fossil forms to the discovery of geological truths; and it may be truly said that the first who pursued this study (on which undoubtedly modern geology and all its grandest results are founded) was Palissy, the self-educated potter, who had taught himself in the school of nature. “I have been anxious,” said he, “to represent by pictures, the shells and fishes which I have found lapidified, to distinguish between them and the sorts now in common use; but because my time would not permit me to put my design in execution, I have, for some years, sought, according to my power, for petrifactions, until at length I have found more fishes and shells in that form petrified upon the earth than there are modern kinds inhabiting the ocean.” He then showed them a small specimen which he begged them carefully to observe. “What can it be?” they inquired; “it resembles wood more nearly than anything else.” “You will think it very strange when I assure you that it is indeed wood, converted into stone. It came into my possession through the kindness of the Seigneur de la Mothe, the secretary to the king of Navarre, a man very curious and a lover of virtú. He was once at court in company with the late king of Navarre, when there was brought to that prince a piece of wood changed into stone. It was thought so great a curiosity that the king commanded one of his attendants to lock it up, among his other treasures.

“Taking occasion to speak with the gentleman who had received this charge, Monsieur de la Mothe begged that he would give him a little morsel of it, which he did; and some time after, passing through Saintes, be brought the treasure to me, and seeing how much pleasure and interest I took in examining it, he gave it me. I have since made inquiry, and find that it was brought from the forest of Fayan, which is a swampy place. It appears to me, indeed I am persuaded, that in the same manner as the shells are converted into stone, so is the wood also transmuted, and being petrified it preserves the form and appearance of wood, precisely like the shells. By these things you see how nature no sooner suffers destruction by one principle, than she at once resumes working with another; and this is what I have already said – to wit, that the earth and the other elements are never idle.” “Where can you have learned all this?” asked the young lady, with girlish wonder; “I would fain know to what school you have been, where you have learned all that you are telling us.” “In truth, Mademoiselle,” said Palissy smiling, “I have had no other teacher than the heavens and the earth which are given to all, to be known and read. Having read therein, I have reflected on terrestrial matters, because I have had no opportunity in studying astrology to contemplate the stars.”

CHAPTER X

“The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are exalted.”

– Psalm xii. 8.

Thus happily occupied with the pursuits he loved, but taking no share in the turmoils of the time, Palissy prospered and cheerfully pursued his way. He could not, indeed, be an unconcerned observer of the events that were transpiring around. Having eyes, he doubtless saw the clouds that were gathering over his country, and from time to time, heard the thunders that threatened before long to burst in a terrific storm. For a season, however, the evil day was deferred, and the hymns of the rejoicing Huguenots continued to gladden his heart. We have already had sufficient evidence that he did not spare his remonstrances against those who, while they enjoyed the revenues of the church, neglected the performance of its duties. Nor did he stop there, and as his censures extended from the highest to the lowest matters, his shafts were often pointed against those who could ill endure the test of common sense, which he unceremoniously applied to them. His criticisms on the follies and vices of his neighbours had too much the character of home-thrusts not to be felt. In his lively way he relates that, on one occasion, he remonstrated with a certain high dame upon the absurdities and improprieties of feminine attire; but “after I had made her this remonstrance,” he quietly adds, “the silly woman, instead of thanking me, called me Huguenot, seeing which – I left her.” At another time, he relates that, being on a visit to the neighbouring town of Rochelle, he earnestly remonstrated with a tradesman, of whom he inquired what he had put into his pepper which enabled him, though buying it in that place at thirty-five sols the pound, to make a great profit by selling it again, at the fair of Niord, at seventeen sols, in consequence of the adulteration of the article. In reply to the man’s excuse of poverty, Bernard replied, that, by such criminal acts he was heaping up to himself fearful punishments, “and surely,” said he, “you can better afford to be poor than be damned.” Strong, though faithful language, which was wholly ineffectual upon this “poor insensate, who declared he would not be poor, follow what might.” Plain speaking of this sort was evidently very characteristic of Palissy, who uttered his remonstrances without reckoning on the consequences. The same originality and force of intellect which procured him patrons in his art, undoubtedly, when applied in a different direction, served to multiply enemies around him, and their time was not long in coming.

Happily and swiftly flew the years of prosperity, but (as we have already seen) the clouds were gathering in the horizon, and soon the cruel hounds of war were let slip, and most frightful were the results. Two great parties had involved in their disputes the passions of the whole French nation. One, which included all the Huguenots, was headed by the high old French nobility; while the leaders of the others, embracing all the Roman Catholics, were the Guises. These opposing factions, with their strong deep passions, rapidly precipitated themselves into a fierce and bloody contest. One of the young sons of Catherine de Medici had died, after a few months of nominal rule, and a child no more than ten years old, called Charles IX. had succeeded to the throne. The queen mother, who, as regent for her son, assumed the government of affairs, was anxious, as far as possible, to offend neither of the contending parties, but to hold them so well balanced, as to preserve the power in her own hands. For a short time, there was a cessation of disputes, and efforts at conciliation. The policy of Catherine was the maintenance of peace, and she spoke fair to the Huguenots, feigning so well and so successfully that she was even accused by those of the Roman Catholic party, of being in heart one with the new sect. The Reformers took courage, and were full of fervour and hope; the enthusiasm spreading throughout the provinces and awakening everywhere the hope that the triumph of the Reformed faith was at hand. It was but a passing gleam, presently followed by a darker gloom, which finally deepened into the thick night of the Black Bartholomew. In vain did the queen and the chancellor, De l’Hôpital, labour to secure peace by colloquies and edicts of toleration. The Guises fiercely stirred the fires of contention, and employed themselves in active preparations for a struggle. At length, the first signal for the outbreak of the civil war was given.

There was in Champagne, a small fortified town, called Vassy, containing about three thousand inhabitants, a third of whom, not reckoning the surrounding villages, professed the Reformed religion. It happened, on the 28th of February, 1562, that the Duke of Guise, journeying on his way to Paris, accompanied by his cousin, the cardinal of Lorraine, with an escort of gentlemen, followed by some two hundred horsemen, visited the château de Joinville, which was situated in the neighbourhood, on an estate belonging to the Lorraines.

The mistress of the castle was a very old lady, the dowager Duchess of Guise, whose bigoted attachment to the faith of her ancestors made the very name of Huguenot an offence to her. Sorely indignant was she at the audacity of the inhabitants of Vassy, who had no right, she declared, as vassals of her granddaughter, Mary Stuart, to adopt a new religion without her permission. Often had she threatened vengeance upon them, and the time was now come to inflict it. And the aged woman urged her son, the fierce Duke Francis, to make a striking example of these insolent peasants. As he listened to her angry words, he swore a deep oath, and bit his beard, which was his custom, when his wrath waxed strong.