Baring-Gould Sabine
The Lives of the Saints, Volume 1 (of 16)
After having spent five years at Paris, he was sent to finish his education at the university of Padua, and there he remained till he was twenty-four years of age, when, in 1591, he took his degree of doctor of laws. Soon after his return home, his father sent him to Chambéry, to take the office of senator in the court, and the young Francis took the opportunity of conferring with the Bishop on the steps which it would be most advisable for him to take, in order to ensure the consent of his family to his embracing the ecclesiastical state, on which his heart had long been set. The Bishop advised him to wait a little, before declaring this intention; and, in the mean time he obtained a bull from Rome authorizing the appointment of Francis to the deanery of the cathedral, knowing that the attainment of this dignity would soften the feelings of the family towards the purposed steps. The hopes of Francis, however, seemed destined to be frustrated altogether by the extreme anxiety of his father, both that he should accept the post offered him, and also that he should marry a rich, amiable, and beautiful girl, the daughter of one of their oldest friends. But Francis, to the surprise and despair of his parents, refused both offers. Not long after, the suspense becoming intolerable to him, and his vocation day by day stronger, he resolved to reveal the cause to his father and mother, and taking with him his cousin, Louis of Sales, he implored their consent to his becoming a priest. M. de Boisy was stupified at his son's proposal, which took him completely by surprise, and at first flatly refused his consent. But after combating the resolution of Francis for a long time, he yielded to the entreaties of his wife, who warned him that, should he oppose so decided a vocation, it would be refusing him permission to follow the voice of God. Armed with his father's consent and blessing, Francis lost no time in hastening back to the Bishop of Geneva, from whom he received minor orders on June 8th, 1593. The Bishop, who had the highest opinion of his power, told him that he expected him to preach on the following Thursday, which was the Feast of Corpus Christi. When the morning came, Francis was seized with a sudden panic, and he cast himself on his bed when the bells were ringing for service. But, overcoming his bashfulness, he rose and went to the cathedral, where he preached on the Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist, a sermon which flowed from a heart which had long loved and adored that Presence. The Bishop was much moved by this discourse, and three leading Calvinist gentlemen who had come out of sheer curiosity to hear the new preacher were convinced, and shortly after were received into the Church of God.
On the 18th December of the same year, Francis was promoted to priests' orders, on which occasion his ecstatic devotion amazed the assistants.
At this time the Bishop received an appeal from the Duke of Savoy to send missionaries into the Chablais. This is a portion of Savoy to the south of the lake of Geneva, which had been forced into heresy by the canton of Berne in Switzerland. The circumstances were as follows. During the wars between the canton of Berne, supporting insurgent Geneva against the Duke of Savoy, Charles III, who was thus engaged in war with Francis I., King of France, the troops of Berne had invaded the province of Chablais, and has wrested it from him. Not content with this usurpation, the senate of Berne determined to undermine the Catholic religion in this canton, and for this purpose divided the conquered province into townships, of which the principal was fixed at Thonon, on the borders of the lake. There were two large churches in the town, those of S. Hippolytus, and S. Augustine. The authorities of Berne drove out the Catholic clergy, and sent two violent reformers, Farel and Lambertet to preach during Lent in 1536, and try to prevail on the people to disbelieve the majority of those truths which the Church had taught them. This they accordingly did, but when Lambertet began to preach in the pulpit of the church of S. Hippolytus, a scene of confusion ensued; he was absolutely refused a hearing, and one of the citizens forced him to come down from the pulpit. The government of Berne, to punish this tumult, sent six commissioners, who, on the 4th of June, destroyed and defaced the sacred images, burnt the crosses, forbade the exercise of the Catholic religion, and drove away all the priests and religious; and by edict forbade the exercise of any Catholic rite under a penalty of ten florins for each offence. In a few years, to all intents and purposes, Catholicism was banished from the land. Fifty-seven years had passed, and by means of rigid suppression of Catholicism, the people had grown up in heresy or total unbelief. Now, the Chablais was returned to the Duke of Savoy, and he wrote to the Bishop of Geneva, entreating him to send some holy priest to Thonon to inaugurate the work of leading the people out of the darkness of error into the clear light of the Gospel of Christ. The Bishop sent a virtuous priest, but the following year the castle of Thonon was betrayed and destroyed by the Bernese troops, and the poor priest, fearing for his life, and utterly despairing of effecting any conversions among the Protestants, quitted his post, and returned to report his failure to the Bishop at Annecy. But the Duke, no way disheartened by this state of things, rebuilt and fortified the castle of Allinges not far from Thonon, placed it in a garrison, and wrote again to the Bishop, imploring for fresh workers in the neglected spiritual vineyard.
The Bishop summoned a meeting of the Cathedral Chapter, and made a moving discourse before them on the subject of the Duke's letter, which he first read to the assembly. A profound and chilling silence followed the Bishop's appeal, but all turned to look at the young dean, whose face seemed radiant with joy and emotion. He rose, and said simply and earnestly, "My Lord, if you think me capable and worthy of this mission, I undertake it with joy. At thy word will I let down my net!" The Bishop gratefully accepted the generous offer, and prepared to do all for Francis that lay in his power to ensure his success.
Far different, however, was the scene in the castle of Sales, when the fatal news became known. M. de Boisy flew to Annecy, and overwhelmed Francis with entreaties and reproaches. "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business," was the reply of the Saint; then throwing himself at his father's feet, he besought his consent and his blessing. M. de Boisy replied, "As to consenting to this mad undertaking, I cannot do it. It is of no use asking me;" and so saying, the poor old man left the palace, and returned in tears to his castle, there to be soothed, but not consoled, by the stronger faith of his wife.
On Sept. 9th, 1594, Francis, accompanied by his cousin, Louis, started on his evangelical mission. It was necessary to pass by the castle of Sales, when Frances had a fresh battle to fight with his family. "The Château of Sales," writes a contemporary of our Saint, "was at that time one of the most beautiful in Savoy, situated at the foot of mount Ferreo, and surrounded with lovely gardens and shrubberies. A fountain in the centre, and a lake on one side, added to its charms." Yet all this Francis seems to have left without a thought or even a regret. During their visit, the cousins determined to spend a couple of days in retreat. The evening of the second day, Francis went to take leave of his mother. Her conduct throughout had been admirable. This terrible parting over, Francis went back to the chapel, where, as a child, he had so often knelt with that tender mother before the altar and repeated, evening after evening, his childish prayers, and there the noble sacrifice of his whole future life to God was consummated and accepted. His natural sorrow quenched in the Sacred Presence, Francis spent the rest of the night in prayer, for the success of his mission; and the next morning the cousins started at break of day, avoiding all further leave-takings; and without either servants or provisions; his father having expressly forbidden any assistance being given to them, hoping thereby to disgust them of their enterprise. So, in poverty, S. Francis left his ancestral home. Nine years afterwards, writing to the Pope, he says, "On arriving in the Chablais, nothing but heart-breaking sights met our eyes. Out of sixty-five parishes, excepting a few officers of the Duke's garrisons, there were scarcely fifty Catholics. The churches were desecrated or destroyed, and the cross everywhere broken down."
It would be impossible to give an idea of the fury of the Protestants of Thonon when they heard of the mission of the two cousins. The news flew to Geneva, where a public meeting was instantly held to declare that any one was at liberty to take the lives of the two Papists who had dared to undertake the mission; some of the Protestants present went so far as to swear that they themselves would be their assassins. M. de Boisy was alarmed when news reached him that the life of his son was menaced, and he sent his old and faithful servant, George Roland, with positive orders to bring Francis back; but the Saint was not to be moved; he, however, persuaded his cousin, Louis, to go back for a short while, in order to calm the anxiety of his family, whilst he himself remained to prosecute his great work. Louis obeyed, but soon returned, and the two earnest missioners laboured indefatigably together to advance the Gospel. Francis went on foot among the villages, his stick, his breviary, and his Bible being his sole companions; Louis being sent into other parts of the province.
One night, on the 12th December, being on an expedition of this kind, night came on suddenly; the earth was covered with snow, and he found himself alone in a large wood infested with wolves. Afraid of being devoured, he climbed up into a tree to pass the night; and then, lest he should fall asleep and drop from the branch, he tied himself with his leathern girdle to the stem. The next morning some peasants from a neighbouring village found him there, nearly frozen with cold, and unable to move. They carried him to their home, gently chafed his numbed limbs, and brought him back to warmth and consciousness. Their charity was not without its reward, for the Saint profited by the occasion to speak to them on things concerning their eternal salvation. His gentle, loving voice and manner effected even more than his words, and the zeal he had shown in braving every kind of peril and suffering for the sake of bringing back a few stray sheep to the fold, spoke more forcibly to their hearts than a thousand sermons. These poor peasants were moved and touched, and S. Francis numbered them among his first converts. M. de Boisy sent George Roland back to Francis at the beginning of the year 1595, and to the records of this faithful servant, who from that hour never left him, we are mainly indebted for the details of the most interesting personal adventures which befell the Saint. But God Himself interposed on several occasions to save His servant from dangers of which even George Roland knew nothing. There was one bigoted Protestant, who in the height of fanatical fury, swore that he would murder Francis and carry his head to Geneva. This man was afterwards converted, and declared on oath that he had thrice waylaid the Saint to accomplish his purpose, and that each time his gun missed fire, and that he had posted various other persons to kill him, but on each occasion God had rendered His apostle invisible. The instigator of this diabolical design was at last touched by the wonderful way in which providence shielded Francis from harm; he abjured his heresy, and became afterwards one of the Saint's most devoted followers.
At the beginning of the year 1595, Francis began a short, clear, and simple exposition of Catholic doctrine, written on loose sheets for distribution among Protestants, with an answer to the principal objections raised against the Faith. Every one read and discussed these fly-leaves – and the Protestants were beyond measure surprised at the way in which all their favourite arguments were disproved, while some among them were equally startled at finding how their prejudices regarding the Catholic faith melted away before the sunshine of God's truth.
The winter, always severe in Savoy, was this year one of unusual rigour. The roads were one sheet of ice, and Francis was obliged to put iron clamps on his shoes, in order to prevent himself from slipping. As he suffered terribly from broken chilblains, his heels became in such a state that the blood stained the snow as he walked along, penetrating through his stockings and gaiters. One night he arrived, with his cousin, Louis, at a village where all the doors were closed against him. In vain they knocked and entreated for admission; the inhabitants, who had been prejudiced against them, refused to give them shelter; they crept into the village oven, which was still warm, and there slept.
On the 17th July, he preached a wonderful sermon at Thonon on the mediation of Jesus Christ. He showed his hearers that the Catholic Church, so far from destroying this doctrine, as the Protestant asserted, based her whole system upon it. The Calvinist ministers were exasperated at the effect of the sermon, and held a public meeting, in which it was resolved to charge him with sorcery and magic. They even suborned a man to swear that he had seen Francis in communication with devils at a witch's festival. As he was walking through a wood at dusk immediately after this, two men rushed upon him with swords, uttering horrid imprecations. Francis met them with such composure, that they were overcome, and casting themselves at his feet, implored his pardon, alleging as their excuse the orders they had received from the Protestant clergy. The Saint forgave and blessed them, and pursued his road, unmolested. The Calvinists, more furious than ever, hired a body of assassins who came secretly, in the dead of the night to the house in which he lodged. Francis had not yet gone to bed. He was watching and praying in his room, when he heard the tramp of armed men in the street, and their whispered consultation at the door. He quietly slipped into a secret chamber, cleverly concealed by a panel in the wall which had been provided in case of any such emergency, and the assassins hunted through the house from garret to cellar without being able to find him. What promoted the Catholic faith far more than his sermons, was his daily life of never-failing charity. Madame de Boisy at last brought her husband to see and feel the beauty and reality of the mission in which their son was engaged. This was an untold relief to Francis; and from that time, father and mother worked together in forwarding to the utmost of their power the apostolic labours of their son. They gave shelter in the castle of Sales to such of the converts as were compelled to resort to flight in order to escape the fury of the heretics; and it is impossible to exaggerate the tender zeal with which Madame de Boisy looked after their temporal and spiritual wants. The Saint, in the meanwhile, continued without intermission his pastoral work. As he could not carry the Blessed Sacrament publicly through the streets of Thonon to the sick, he used to take a Host in a little silver pyx in the shape of a triangle, suspended by three little silver chains round his neck, and thus bear our Lord on his breast. Then wrapping himself up in a large cloak, he would walk along very gravely, looking on the ground, without speaking to any one, or raising his hat. This was the sign he had given to the faithful, who no sooner saw him passing in that manner than they left their occupations and silently followed, though at a little distance, so as not to excite hostile observation. It was an intense joy to him to carry the Blessed Sacrament in that way: his flock often remarked that his face on such occasions positively shone with the fire of his love. As prudence still forbade the public sacrifice of the Mass in Thonon, S. Francis used to celebrate it in the little village of Marin, on the other side of the river Drance, in the old church of S. Stephen.
On one occasion he went to preach in an old parish church near Allinges; it was S. Stephen's Day, 1595, and he summoned the inhabitants as usual by ringing a bell, but, as it was very bad weather, only seven people came. Some one said to him that it was not worth while his preaching to so small an audience. He replied, "One soul is as precious to me as a thousand;" and he began a most eloquent discourse on the Invocation of Saints, of which he explained the doctrine, and refuted the Protestant objections with great clearness. Among his seven hearers was a magistrate of Thonon who had lately joined the Church, but had been beset by the ministers, who had succeeded in shaking his feeble faith. After the sermon, he threw himself at the feet of S. Francis and exclaimed, "You have saved my soul this day!" He then declared that he had meditated abjuring his new Catholicism next Thursday; that having heard the bell ring, and seen only half-a-dozen poor peasants obey the summons, and come to the church, he had thought that, if S. Francis were to preach, it would be a proof that he loved souls, but if he did not preach, then he would be convinced that he sought applause. He went on to say that the pains taken by S. Francis to explain to those half-dozen peasants the doctrine of the Communion of Saints, had cleared away his difficulties, and had convinced him of the grand and unutterable truth of the Catholic Church, of which he would ever remain a member. Little by little the work advanced; Francis was given three energetic assistants; for some time the progress was very small, but the great mass of the people were like an avalanche, slowly undermined, to fall in a body at the foot of the Cross.
It would exceed our limits to detail the steps by which S. Francis advanced the cause. Let us turn to the crowning of his labour. In 1597, he celebrated the "Forty Hours" Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament at Thonon. The churches of S. Augustine and S. Hippolytus had been given up to the Catholics, and the Bishop arrived to consecrate them anew, and to administer the Sacraments of Confirmation and Ordination for the first time for sixty-three years. An enormous crowd assembled from all quarters. After the Blessed Sacrament had been carried in procession through the town, it was placed in an oratory erected for the purpose. Very soon a crowd came up, consisting of three hundred people, inhabitants of Bellevaux, all begging to be admitted into the Church. The inhabitants of S. Cergue arrived next, bearing with them a cross which had been concealed by them between two walls during the Calvinist persecution, and which cross remains in the hamlet to this day. Some of these poor people arrived barefoot bearing other emblems of the Passion of our Lord, the spear, the nails, the crown of thorns. Then came the people of Bonneville, with the nobility of the Chablais. One portion of the procession arrived later than the rest, and that was from the village of Ternier. They had been attacked by the fanatics of Geneva on their way. During the "Forty Hours" of Adoration, prayers, meditations, catechizings, and sermons succeeded each other without intermission. The personal love which all the people felt for S. Francis, together with his tender and touching exhortations, gave an additional impulse to the devotion of the spectators. Whole villages took the opportunity of returning to the faith of their fathers; and when the Exposition was over, the Bishop and S. Francis had several hard days' work in receiving such numberless abjurations and administering to them the rites of conditional baptism and confirmation.
On September 30th, the Duke of Savoy visited Thonon, and the Chablais ceased to be Protestant. Few heretics now remained, and the Duke ordered them to cross the lake to the land of Vaud, as the Calvinists before had expelled those who would not submit to the abolition of their religion. The spiritual conquest achieved by Francis has been commonly reckoned to have amounted to 72,000 souls.
In 1599, S. Francis was appointed coadjutor bishop of Geneva. The continual disputes between France and Savoy were at length adjusted by a treaty contracted at Lyons, by which the latter government yielded to the former the province of Gex to the north of the lake of Geneva, containing thirty-seven parishes, with about 30,000 inhabitants. S. Francis visited Paris in 1602, and persuaded Henry IV. to re-establish the exercise of the Catholic religion throughout Gex, wherever there were a sufficient number of Catholics; only the king stipulated that this should be done gradually, so as to avoid giving alarm to the Protestants.
Francis now returned to Savoy, where the failing health of the aged Bishop of Geneva made it necessary for him to be present. Some time previous to his death, he had the consolation of celebrating the jubilee at Thonon, by which the history of the conversion of the Chablais was wound up. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims of all ranks, in companies preceded by cross and banner, poured from all the country round, making the Alpine valleys resound with their pious chants, as they thanked God for having brought them out of darkness into the glorious liberty of the children of God. More than a hundred confessors were engaged continually at the tribunal of penance; and altogether 62,000 communions were made in the church of Thonon. On Dec. 8th, 1702, Francis was consecrated bishop, and appointed to the see of Geneva, in the parish church of Thonon.
The first business which Francis undertook after he was settled at Annecy, the seat of the Bishops of Geneva, after their expulsion by the Calvinists from the city of Geneva, was to establish a confraternity of Christian Doctrine, and to make catechetical instruction his strongest point. He heard the classes himself every Sunday. A more interesting sight there could not be than to behold him, seated in front of the altar, teaching the little ones, the girls on one side, and the boys on the other. Twice in the year he made a festival for the children, and went through the city with them processionally, singing Litanies. The influence of his kindness over them was so great, that he never came forth, without the children running out from every nook and corner of the streets to ask his blessing or kiss his robe. When some friends complained of the troops of them who followed him, he said gently, "Suffer them to come, they are my own dear little people."
In 1603, when he was preaching the Lent course of sermons at Dijon, by invitation of the magistrates, he made the acquaintance of Jane Frances of Chantal, in combination with whom he afterwards founded the Order of the Visitation. In 1605 and 1606, he made a general visitation of his whole diocese, undergoing great fatigue, and often danger, in traversing the Alpine districts, which formed the greatest part of it, and everywhere preaching, catechizing, and hearing confessions. In 1618, Francis was chosen by the Duke of Savoy to accompany an embassy to Paris to negotiate the marriage of his son with the daughter of Henry IV., and sister of Louis XIII. The negotiations of the embassy lasted for nearly a year, during which Francis received incessant invitations to preach, which he did almost daily; the people never tiring of listening to him. The secret of his power lay in the exquisite charm of divine grace which radiated from him. The churches were so crowded, that it more than once happened that a ladder had to be brought for the preacher to enter by the window, the doors being completely blocked up. People ran to gaze at him, or to touch his robe as he passed in the streets. Cardinal de Retz, Bishop of Paris, had set his heart on having him as his coadjutor, and offered him a rich pension, the entire control of his diocese, and the appointment of his brother, John Francis, to succeed him at Geneva, if he would consent to come; but all was in vain.
By degrees the whole of the territory of Gex was catholicized, and Francis had the felicity of continually organizing fresh parishes which had submitted to the Gospel of Christ. Towards the close of 1622, he was invited to attend the Duke of Savoy at Avignon, where he was to meet Louis XIII. Francis had a presentiment that this journey would be his last; but he did not think it right to decline the invitation of his sovereign. Accordingly he made preparation, with the utmost calmness, as if to return no more. He made his will, and gave directions concerning his funeral, which he desired should be modest. On November 8th he bade farewell to his friends and started next day. At Lyons a trifling incident happened, which is worth relating, as an example of his sweet and gentle demeanour. As he was going on board the boat, the ferryman refused to receive him without his passport. When his attendants were angry at the delay, the bishop remarked, "Let him alone, he knows the duties of a boatman; we have forgotten that of a traveller." He had to wait an hour for the passport in a bitterly cold wind. When at last they got on board, he went and sat by the boatman, observing, "I wish to make friends with this good man, and to talk to him a little of our Blessed Lord."
At Avignon he held aloof from all the magnificence which the reunion of two courts in that splendid age so lavishly displayed, and spent his time in prayer, and in conference with religious persons. On his way home he remained at Lyons, very ill. Nevertheless he said his midnight Mass on Christmas morning and preached on the day with great fervour. He then heard confessions, and said his third Mass shortly before noon, after which he broke his fast. Then he gave the habit to two novices, preached, received a number of visitors, and waited on the Queen Marie de Medicis, who was to leave Lyons next day. Yet he was actually a dying man when he thus crowded such astonishing exertions into one day. Next day, the Feast of S. Stephen, he bade his last farewell to the nuns of the Visitation, the order he had founded. On the following morning he confessed, said Mass, and gave the Holy Communion to the nuns. The Superioress noticed his altered looks. Outside the church he was detained talking to some noblemen. It was cold and foggy, and he felt a chill. By the time he got home he was excessively fatigued and ill; but he sat down to write letters, and received several visitors. On their departure his servant came in, and began to tell him about a sermon he had heard, in which the preacher exhorted the Queen to love her servants. Francis said, "And you, do you love me?" The good servant could not speak for weeping, seeing how deadly ill he looked. The saint continued: "And I, too, love you well; but let us love God above all," As he said these words he sank back in a fit. Next day the physicians resorted to all the expedients used in the barbarous surgery of the age, blisters on the head, the application of a hot iron to the nape of the neck, and a red-hot ball pressed on the crown till it burnt to the bone. He gradually sank after these operations, and his lips moving in prayer, when unable to utter words, those in attendance knelt and recited the "Recommendation for a departing soul," during which his gentle spirit departed to its rest.
The body, after having been embalmed, was removed to Annecy, and reposes in the Church of the Visitation.
