Dr. Vess's World Civilization Virtual Library

This sample creative writing assignment is by Cathy Locks, graduate student in history, GC&SU; she completed the assignment for Dr. Vess's HIST 5140, Winter 1998.

Bonjour monsieurs et madames, j'em appelle, Jean Cauvin. I want you to understand that my name is Jean Cauvin, because I want you to understand that I am French. Although I ended my years in Geneva, Switzerland, I was born and raised in France, and am a frenchman. I understand the Anglaise have spread like the plague to all corners of the Earth, and so,I am known to you by the anglicized form of my name John Calvin, but please, do not ever think of me as Anglaise.

I was born in the reign of Louis XII on July 10, 1509 in Noyon, in the Picardy region of France. Traditionally my family had been boatmen on the Oise, but my grandfather had gone from a boatman to a cooper. My uncles became iron workers in Paris, and my father, Gerard Cauvin turned to clerical work. He did well, becoming something of a businessman and a lawyer. He became a registrar of Noyon by 1481, and held other offices as well. He was even a solicitor in the ecclesiastical court. Due to my father's hardwork, in 1497 he became a member of the bourgeoisie, which is quite an achievement for the son of a former boatman.
My mother, Jeanne Le Franc was the most beautiful woman in Noyon and a very pious and devout Catholic. Her father, my grandfather Jean Le Franc had been a very successful innkeeper in Cambrai before settling in Noyon. In 1498 he became a member of the Noyon bourgeoisie, and then a member of the city council.
My parents settled into a house on the Place au Ble near the Le Franc home. They had a happy but tragically short-lived marriage which produced five sons. My brothers Antoine and Francois died in childhood. But my older brother Charles and my younger brother, the second to be named Antoine survived. After my mother died, perhaps hastened to her grave by birthing five sons, my father married again. From my step-mother I gained two sisters.
Shortly after my birth, my life as a Catholic began. I was taken for baptism to the little church of Sainte-Godeberte which stood conveniently across the street from my home. My godfather was Jean de Vatines, a canon of Noyon cathedral.
My father was very ambitious for his sons and did his best to provide us with excellent educations because he realized that a good education was the key to our having successful careers and comfortable lives. So, we were sent to the Capettes school where our classmates were the sons of the best families in Noyon. Here I established friendships that would last a lifetime.
My father arranged for my brothers and I to have positions in the Church which would provide an income to aid with our education. You must understand, that this was not really so unusual, in that day if you had a parent or a patron with the proper connections, these things could be easily arranged. On May 19, 1521, I was given a chaplaincy at the alter of La Gesine in the cathedral of Noyon, a position which my brother Charles had held before me, and which, as I was but eleven years of age, would provide me with an income, without any real duties. I was tonsured as a sign of my ecclesiastical post, but I was not ordained. The income was very nice, the largest part being derived from grain taxes from the neighboring territories of Voienne and Eppeville. On September 27, 1527 I was given the pastorate of Saint-Martin de Martheville, which I traded on June 5, 1529 for that of Pont-l'Eveque, my family's ancestral home. My brother Antoine was equally provided for by our father, even following me in the post at La Gesine. Our father was doing an excellent job in securing our futures.
In August, 1523, when I was but a lad of fourteen, my father sent me to the University of Paris. I was sent at this time for several reasons. One, Noyon was in the grips of the plague. All of my father's hard work would have been in vain if I and my brothers died as mere schoolboys. Second, my great abilities as a scholar had been apparent for some time, and there was really nothing left for me to learn in Noyon. Third, three of my closest friends who happened to be wealthy young aristocrats were set to attend the university and to ensure their success, they were taking a tutor with them. Finally, my uncle Richard was already in Paris.and doing quite well. He would provide a home for me near the church of Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois while I attended the university. I was very fortunate to have a ready-made home in Paris, if I had been forced to live at the university with the other students, I would have been subject to a most unpleasant life. The food was horrid, and not generously provided, and sanitation was practically non-existant.
At the university I entered the College de la Marche where I came under the instruction of Mathurin Cordier, the preeminent Latin scholar in France. Cordier was truly a fine man and a fine scholar, and he taught me not only Latin, but the basics of good scholarship. I maintained a warm friendship with him until death.
I had been at the university only a few months when I was transferred to the College de Montaigu. This college was more prominent than the other, and was also considered more appropriate for theology students. My father, the canons of Noyon cathedral, and the tutor who was officially in charge of my studies as well as the studies of my friends, all wanted this change of college, so, even though I was happy under Cordier, I had no choice but to comply. But please, do not think that I felt the College de Montaigu in anyway an unworthy choice, no indeed. This had been the college of Erasmus, and after me, it would be the college of Ignatius Loyola. The college was headed by the formidable theologian, and entrenched arch-conservative Catholic Noel Beda. He was a man who would tolerate no questioning of traditional church doctrine.
My scholastic career progressed quite well, and I made new friends in Paris. One in particular worthy of note was Nicholas Cop, a scholar of great ability. His father was Giullaume Cop of Basel, Switzerland, first physician to the King, an eminent member of the Faculty of Medicine, and a friend of Erasmus.
By the time I finished what would be to you an undergraduate degree, I was well prepared for a career in the church as my father had intended. Unfortunately, the situation in Noyon had changed, and my father now insisted that I take up the study of law. I will not dwell on my father's personal problems. I can assure you, that he would have done anything except dishonor himself to keep his problems from affecting the careers of my brothers and myself. But you should know, although it is painful for me to relate, that when my father died in 1531, he was excommunicated due to these difficulties. Only after much pleading by my brothers and I after his death did the church relent and allow my father to be buried in holy ground.
Still, I was a dutiful son, and while my father lived, I respected his wishes, and turned to the practice of law. In some ways this was a relief to me. I was always a pious and devout man, and I desired to be a servant of God, but the more I studied, the more I began to doubt that my church, the Catholic church, was the true path of a Christian.
So I turned to law, and to study law, I had to leave Paris. The leading lawyer of France was Pierre Taisan de l'Estoile and to study under him, I had to go to the University of Orleans. He was not simply a lawyer, he was also of a religious mind, and firm in his conservative Catholic convictions. He had in fact demanded the repression of Protestants at the Council of Sens in February, 1528, just before I was to be his student.
Student life in Orleans was far less regulated than in Paris, and I had much greater control over my own schedule. I was a dedicated and determined scholar, and sometimes I did not allow myself enough time to rest. This led to digestive problems which plagued me to the end of my life. Still, I think it was worth it. My study habits enabled me to excel where others failed. I was even allowed to stand-in for my instructors in their absence. Also, my practice of rising early each morning to recall without the benefit of notes all that I had studied the night before served to sharpen my memory, which has often been remarked upon in amazement in my later years.
Orleans is also the place where I was really able to study the classics. I was already fluent in Latin of course as it was the only language allowed to be spoken at the University of Paris, but now in Orleans, I was introduced to Greek by Melchior Wolmar, a German by birth, and a Lutheran by preference. I had longed to read the great works in Greek, but had never been given the opportunity.
I was grateful for the opportunity to study under l'Estoile, as any sensible student would be, but I was drawn in 1529 to the University of Bourges to study under Andrea Alciati, an Italian lawyer with a great reputation as a teacher. I found that I actually preferred l'Estoile to Alciati, but I remained a student at Bourges. My friend and mentor Wolmar also came to Bourges and I began my study of Greek in earnest in 1530.
In 1531 my father died. My step-mother had died some time before, and so now I was an orphan, and finally able to decide for my self what course of study I should pursue. Within a month of my father's death I moved back to Paris to study the classics which so fascinated me. I did not betray my father's memory, my law degree was complete. But now I studied as I wanted. I entered the College Fortet where I studied Greek under Pierre Danes and Hebrew under Francois Vatable. I was quite happy there surrounded by old friends and new. My younger brother Antoine was there also and was a joy to me.
Unfortunately my older brother Charles was not so much a source of joy as of woe to me. He had remained in Noyon where he managed my business affairs. He did this so poorly that I had to borrow money from my dear friend Duchemin to settle my father's debts on his death, when I should have had more than enough money saved. Additionally, Charles, like our father before him, fell into a dispute with the Chapter at Noyon. He was somewhat rash and quarrelled with various persons at the cathedral. Then he stuck one of them, and was excommunicated for striking a member of the clergy. How ironic, that the church had funded my education, and I had been forced to study for the priesthood by my father, and yet when he died both he and my oldest brother were excommunicated. My brother never even tried to work out his problems with the church. In May, 1534 he was accused of heresy . He was so stubborn he refused even on his deathbed to recant, and was buried under the gallows in Noyon in 1537.
But I am a little ahead of myself. I wanted everyone to see me as a scholar and so I wrote my first work Commentary on Seneca's Treatise on Clemency. I had studied law, but did not find in it any satisfaction. I had studied the classics and written a work which was really quite good, but again I did not feel I had found my calling.
God finally made me turn about in another direction by his secret providence. And, in the first place, because I was so obstinately addicted to the superstitions of the papacy that it was very hard to draw me from that deep slough, by a sudden conversion He subdued and reduced my heart to docility, which, for my age, was over-much hardened in such matters. Having consequently received some taste and knowledge of true piety, I was forthwith inflamed with so great a desire to reap benefit form it that, although I did not at all abandon other studies, I yet devoted myself to them more indifferently. Now I was greatly astonished that, before a year had passed, all those who had some desire for pure doctrine betook themselves to me in order to learn, although I myself had done little more than begin. For my part, I commenced to seek some hiding-place and means of withdrawing from people, since I have always loved quiet and tranquillity, being by nature somewhat shy and timid; but so far was I from succeeding in my wish that, on the contrary, all retreats and places of retirement were as public schools for me. In short, while I have always had this aim of living privately without being known, God has so led me and guided me by various vicissitudes that He has never let me rest in any place whatever, but in spite of my natural disposition, He has brought me forth into the light, and, as the saying is, has thrust me onto the stage.
I would have been content to study and spread the truth by quiet means not disturbing to the public at large. But quite unexpectedly, I found myself thrown into a controversy which forced me to abandon Paris under threat of arrest. My dear old friend, Nicholas Cop gave a public address in which he defended Queen Margaret of Navarre, the king's sister, and a supporter of humanists and religious reformers. The religious conservatives of the University had intended to condemn Margaret's work Le Miroir de l'Ame Pecheresse, until her brother King Francis I made it clear that criticism of his sister was not the way to win his favor. Cop saw this as an opportunity to express his views and defend his patroness at the same time. But he badly misjudged the situation. While the king was very indulgent, even sympathetic with his sister's views, he was not inclined to support those who might cause open religious conflict. While this had certainly not been Cop's intention, the way in which he expressed his views outraged not only the theological faculty of the University of Paris, but the Parlement of Paris as well. Soon arrests were under way. Cop fled with a price on his head dead or alive. Roussel and Elie Coraud were arrested. I was able to escape, but my papers were seized. Queen Margaret herself had the proceedings against me dropped, and so I returned for a brief time to Paris, but I did not stay long. I felt it would be prudent for me to leave, and so I went to Angouleme and stayed with Louis du Tillet . It was here that I began my greatest work, the Institutes. I did little except scholarly work at this time, although I did journey to Nerac to meet Jacques Le Fevre, the greatest of the humanist reformers in France at this time, and the teacher of Roussel.
Now you must understand, I still held my post with the cathedral in Noyon, and now that I was a young man and no longer a child, I was expected to take up the responsibilities that went with the position. But of course, my personal convictions were at odds with the church. Some of my friends chose to stay in the church and attempt reform from within, but this was not the course possible for me. I knew the church was beyond reform, and so on May 4, 1534, I vacated my positions in the church. This was the same time that the Chapter in Noyon began its investigations of my brother Charles for heresy. This was a dark time for me and my family. On May 26th I myself was imprisoned by the Chapter of Noyon at La Porte Corbaut, charged with creating an uproar in the church on the eve of Holy Trinity. After eight days I was released, but was then rearrested not but two days later. When I was released a second time, I left Noyon.
I travelled to Orleans, Angouleme, Poitiers, seeking out my like minded friends and deciding what to do. I did not want to leave France, but I could serve God better alive than dead. I finally reconciled myself to exile. Accompanied by Louis du Tillet, and two servants I travelled on horseback through Lorraine to Strassburg and on to Basel arriving in 1535. One of the servants turned out to be a thief, and near Metz he stole one of the horses and most of our money. Otherwise, our trip was quite pleasant.
In Basel I completed and had published my Institutes. Though I was now removed from France and living in virtual hiding under an assumed name, my heart and mind still returned to my native land and the terrible events unfolding there. The more radical element among French reformers led by Antoine Marcourt had posted placards on churches protesting the Mass. Francis I reacted violently to this. The reformers were savagely repressed, my dear friend who had given me refuge for a time in Paris, Estienne de La Forge was martyred. But this was not enough for Francis. He had to publicly smear their reputations as well. He tried to convince our German reformer brethren that the French reformers were madmen, violent, unruly and disruptive to the state, and that he had no choice but to act as he did. I could not bear to be silent when faced with such outrageous insult. So with my Institutes I answered the king's false charges. I hoped that I might vindicate from unjust affront my brethren whose death was precious in the sight of the Lord; and, next, that some sorrow and anxiety should move foreign peoples, since the same sufferings threatened many. This first edition was no great work, only 519 pages, just a little handbook which I hoped would serve to witness to the faith of those whom I saw evilly reviled by impious and faithless flatterers.
To be indebted to a king's desire for war is an unpleasant position for a servant of God, but this is exactly what happened to me. Francis wanted war with Emperor Charles V, and he wanted the support of the German reformers in this war. So, he ceased his persecution of the french reformers, and even permitted those of us in exile to return, provided we promised to not carry on with our reformist activities. So, I returned to Paris in June, 1536. This was not for me a permanent homecoming. Rather it was simply an opportunity for me to take care of my business interests before leaving France permanently. I then set out for Strassburg with my brother Antoine and my sister Marie. We were forced to detour do to the war, and so went round through Lyons and arrived in Geneva, Switzerland in July. I had intended to only rest there for the night, but God had other intentions. I was introduced to Guillaume Farel. Farel kept me at Geneva not so much by advice and entreaty as by a dreadful adjuration, as if God had stretched forth His hand upon me from on high to arrest me.
I set to work in Geneva with the enthusiasm any servant of God would show when knowing he was doing the Lord's work . Farel made good use of my scholarly gifts. In Geneva I had the opportunity to help establish a true Christian community, living in accordance with the scriptures and free of papal pollution. Everyone in Geneva was to be a member of the Genevan Church, and was examined regularly to make sure they did not develop any wrong ideas. Everyone was to be under the control and discipline of the church, and only when the efforts of the church failed to correct an offender against our society was he then turned over to the state for correction.
Of course, there were problems. All Protestants agreed that the Bible must be the basis for all true Christian belief. But different ministers viewed the real intent of the Scriptures differently. Also there were some petty arguments. One Pierre Caroli, accused me of the heresy of Arianism. Of course the charges were false, and it did not take me long to vindicate myself and my colleagues at Geneva. As for Caroli, he fled to France and the Catholic Church. But other critics did not approve of our organization of the church in Geneva. After much political maneuvering, I and my companions were banished from Geneva. The people of Geneva were simply not ready for the type of disciplined, orderly Christian life which God was directing me to establish on Earth.
I travelled to Basel, and from there to Strassburg in September, 1538 to minister to the French religious refugees in that German town. Strassburg was a blessing to me, although my life there was in some ways difficult as I had no money and little income. I taught in the school, and was given a small yearly honorarium. I built my congregation with discipline and education. Here I was able to develop my liturgy, and run my little church as I believed God wanted. We sang psalms, and other songs, some of which I wrote myself. But whereas singing does have a place in Christian worship, instruments such as an organ, should not be allowed in the church. The noise they make distracts the congregation from the deeper meaning of the words they are singing, and so defeats the purpose of singing entirely.
Through my preaching in Strassburg I was able to maintain an influence on the reformers in France, many of whom crossed the border to hear me speak. I was also able to expand and refine my Institutes. The only real blot on my time in Strassburg was the return to my life of that vile man Caroli, who came to Strassburg claiming to have seen the error of his ways and desiring to be received into the Protestant fold once more.
As for my personal life, I took up the search for a wife in Strassburg. I wanted a woman who was modest, complaisant, unostentatious, thrifty, patient, and likely to be careful of my health. I did not anticipate any difficulty in finding such a woman. I consulted with Farel. A noble young woman was offered to me by her brother, but she did not speak French, and as she was of a higher social class than I, I feared there would be difficulties later on. I then sent my brother Antoine to speak on my behalf to a certain poor woman, but by the time she agreed to be my wife, I had learned from others that she did not have the qualities I sought, so I withdrew my proposal. Finally with the aid if my friend Bucer I found my wife. She was the widow of a former Anabaptist named Jean Stordeur who I had converted to the true faith. He later died of the plague leaving his widow, Idelette de Bure, my ideal woman free to marry me.
I was happy in Strassburg, but Geneva was where God wanted me. My opponents there had either been routed or executed, my friends there were again in power, and they called for my return. I would have rather endured a hundred other deaths than that cross, but knowing that I am not my own, I offered my heart as if slain in sacrifice to the Lord. In 1541 I went to Geneva.
I was determined not to let my banishment interfere with the plans I had made for Geneva so many years before and so when I preached my first sermon upon my return, I preached on the very passages of scripture I had closed with the last time I preached there. The City of Geneva paid my moving expenses, and gave me a salary of 500 florins, plus allowances of wheat, wine and clothing and a house with a garden. Once again I set to work to establish a community living by the word of God. I set about establishing the institutions whereby the people would be educated in the true faith, both in school and in church. Church services were held four times a week, and the church was responsible for guiding and disciplining the people up to the point of excommunication. The church and state would work together to create the ideal christian community. Under my Ordonnances a Consistory was established consisting of twelve elders plus four to twelve ministers. They would provide the discipline necessary for protecting our true faith. The Consistory was a necessary but widely unpopular institution.
I should mention now a moment of great personal pain. My only child, my son Jacques was born on July 28, 1542. But this wonderful blessing soon turned to sadness when Jacques died only a few days later. The sorrow of this event was continually before me for the birthing had been difficult for my dear wife, and she was in poor health for all the rest of her days.
I have been criticized for the harsh discipline which was used in Geneva during my time there. I myself pleaded for more merciful executions. I have nothing to add to this, except that I do not see where the methods of torture and execution we used were any worse than those used in other places, and you must all recognize that a good christian community must be disciplined or else corruption, and heretical viewpoints will take root.
I have been criticized for forcing the Council to sentence Pierre Ameaux to go on his knees through Geneva carrying a torch and wearing only a shirt begging for God's mercy, after he had said terrible things about me while he was drunk. But you see, in insulting me, he was insulting the instrument of God, and therefore God himself, as it was God who had placed me in my position of authority in Geneva. Really, his punishment was quite mild.
Under my guidance, although not always at my instigation, many aspects of the lives of the citizens were regulated for their benefit. The naming of children for instance, where names with any papal connection were banned, dancing was prohibited, a dress code was enforced- the young men had taken to the fashion of slashed hose- which being a sinful sign of luxury was prohibited.
Naturally, some were resistant to these regulations. I was criticized, insulted, although not to my face, people named their dogs after me. Resentment grew among the old Geneva residents for foreign invaders such as myself. By 1548 a balance of power between my supporters and my detractors was achieved. It was an uneasy time for me.
On March 29, 1549 I was bereaved of the best companion of my life, who, if our lot had been harsher, would have been not only the willing sharer of exile and poverty, but even of death. While she lived, she was the faithful helper of my ministry. From her I never experienced the slightest hindrance. She was all that I could have wished for in a wife, and so much more that I had never imagined possible. My grief at her passing never abated.
I had other causes for grief as well. France was now ruled by Henry II, and the persecution of the French Protestants had begun afresh, which caused the trickle of French refugees to Geneva to become a flood, which increased the resentment felt by the natives. Charles V had defeated the Protestants in Germany. My own health was not good. Still I struggled to do God's work. I was criticized on the grounds of doctrine. Predestination, a concept so obvious and plain to me, is not easily understood or readily accepted by others, and this proved to be a point on which I was attacked more than once. But my theology prevailed.
Then in 1553, the balance of power ended. My opponents led by Ami Perrin won the elections. It appeared that soon I would be once again banished from Geneva. But as they say, the Lord works in mysterious ways. My position in Geneva was saved not by a man of God, but by a heretic, Michael Servetus, who I'm sure would hate to be credited with such service to me. Servetus and I had known each other for some time. We had corresponded. But that conceited heretical Spaniard was no friend of mine. Through a complicated series of events his correspondence with me was used to bring him before the Catholic courts in France. I had nothing to do with this, though many think I was actually the instigator. Servetus escaped the French authorities and his scheduled execution by fire, and eventually came to Geneva. I do not know why he would come to my city but he did. He was recognized and arrested. You see Servetus' views were heresy to both the Catholics and the Protestants. When during the trial I questioned him on his more radical views I was finally pushed to accuse him of believing that the Devil was God in substance. Servetus laughed and said,"do you doubt it?" How could anyone defend a man like that. But my enemies in Geneva tried, for Servetus had attacked me, and if he were convicted it would be a victory for me, and then my precarious position would be strengthened once more. The case dragged on and on, much to my aggravation. He was a heretic and should be convicted and punished. Servetus even asked the city council to arrest me on charges of heresy and false accusation, and then decide which of us was right, and execute the other. Finally, a verdict was rendered, Servetus was convicted and sentenced to die at the stake. I asked for a more humane execution, but my voice was not heeded. Servetus died well, calling on Jesus to have pity on him. I was once more on a firm foundation in Geneva.
For the rest of my days in Geneva, my position was secure. I continued to do God's work. My life was not without controversy, I was still attacked by critics, but to no real effect. Tensions continued between the Geneva natives and the refugees from France, but that was only natural, and no violence worth noting erupted. I had my personal difficulties, my brother Antoine's wife had an affair with our hunch-backed servant which necessitated a divorce, much to our public embarrassment. But still, my final ten years in Geneva were as satisfying as any servant of God could hope for. I left this world on May 27, 1564 knowing I had served God to the best of my ability, and comforted by the knowledge I had left a lasting model of a what a true Christian community should be.