Agrippa d’Aubigné
Agrippa d’Aubigné
MY EARLY BIELER ANCESTORS were woodcutters in the Aare valley in northern Switzerland. They were devout, hardworking, ambitious people, who in the seventeenth century moved to the Canton de Vaud on the shores of Lake Geneva. We suspect that they moved in order to be closer to the heart of the Protestant movement. My great-great-grandfather, François, served in Napoleon’s army in Italy, and after the fall of the empire became a traiteur-patissier (caterer) of some renown in Geneva, which was becoming rich and influential with the return of peace and its admission to the Swiss Confederation in 1815. At one time he was maître d’hôtel to Madame de Staël at the Château de Coppet.
My great-grandfather, Samuel, had worked as a veterinarian, and had subsequently attended a veterinary college near Paris, which was in part a military school. There, he found himself in the middle of the 1848 revolution, mounting guard at the barricades of the Paris Hôtel de Ville. He returned to Switzerland as the officer in charge of the army’s horses in Suisse Romande. He was a leader in Swiss agriculture, and founded and directed l’Institut agricole du Canton de Vaud. He married Nathalie de Butzow, the daughter of a Protestant member of the rural Polish nobility. They had ten children and my grandfather Charles was the eldest. Samuel was a religious man and spent most of his Sundays with the congregation of the “Réveil,” the religious movement founded by the father of the future wife of one of his sons!
IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY, the teachings of Luther in Germany, followed by those of Calvin in France, were at the root of the Protestant Reformation and the years of Religious Wars. Agrippa d’Aubigné, a very early ancestor, was a friend of Henri IV, and collaborated with him in the drafting of the Edict of Nantes, which was an effort to protect the Protestants. It was revoked by Louis XIII, and Agrippa was sentenced to death and fled to Geneva. Switzerland, and in particular Geneva, became the hub of a vast missionary enterprise. Protestant citizens of neighbouring countries flocked to the safety, and the fascination, of the evangelical movement there.
Many years later, Agrippa’s descendant, my great-great-grandfather Aimé Robert Merle d’Aubigné, collaborated with Napoleon. In about 1789, he had established an international postal and courier service, operating from neutral Geneva. The system was accepted by the Committee for Public Safety of the Republic, and for a number of years, important and confidential dispatches from all directions passed through his hands. It was a curious anomaly that this Genevese should be directing a confidential service of the French Republic, that this socalled aristocrat should be carrying out the affairs of the Jacobins, and that those “sans-culottes” should trust their correspondent without flinching! Aimé Robert’s adventurous life in a Europe torn by revolution and strife ended mysteriously in 1799 when he left his family again to search for important dispatches, which had been intercepted by the advancing armies of Austria and Russia. He was last heard of near Schaffhausen, on his way to the distant war zone.
Aimé Robert’s son, Jean Henri Merle d’Aubigné, my grandmother’s father, was instrumental in the evolution of the Protestant doctrine. Along with several other religious leaders, including Robert Haldane from Scotland, and César Malan from Geneva, they created the “Réveil” movement. The main aim was to move even further away from Catholicism, towards an emphasis on the New Testament, and in particular the work of St Paul. In 1817, having just graduated from university, he was appointed pastor of the French Protestant Church in Hamburg. He wrote from there: “I would like to write a history of the Protestant Reformation. I would like this history to be a scholarly document that presents facts that are not yet known.” He began a lifelong journey throughout Europe, preaching his beliefs and his vision of unifying Christians. His base was nevertheless in Geneva, where he would be seen lecturing at the Theology School that he founded, preaching on Sundays at St Pierre’s Cathedral, or hidden in his library on the shore of Lake Geneva, researching and writing his epic. The book earned a foremost place among modern French ecclesiastical historians, and was translated into most European languages.
Jean Henri was close to his two brothers, Guillaume and Ami. Unlike their brother, they were entrepreneurs, and they decided to go to America to seek their fortune. Guillaume became an important merchant in New York City. Ami ran his brother’s subsidiary in New Orleans, but became disenchanted, and, to the horror of all of Geneva, returned there with his group of slaves.
MY GRANDFATHER WAS BORN in 1860 in Rolle, a small town on the shore of Lake Geneva. He graduated from the College de Genève in 1878, where, in addition to the thirty-two hours of regular courses per week, another three of religious education was mandated. His parents urged him to undertake a theological education, but he felt that he should seek a more gainful occupation. He eventually compromised and accepted a three-month course at the Faculté de Théologie de l’Académie de Lausanne. His professors and his courses impressed him so much that he abruptly changed his mind and decided to follow his parents’ advice.
Charles was interested in Luther, and decided to spend a few years in Germany as a tutor, prior to enrolling and receiving a degree in Lausanne, at the Ecole de Théologie de l’Eglise Libre. It was time to begin a career. He chose to join his brother Ernest, who was studying painting in Paris, and attempt to enrol at the Ecole de Théologie de Batignolles, which was viewed as the top school for aspiring French pastors. The position of Sous Directeur (Deputy Director) was vacant, and he was fortunate to land the job, quite an honour for a young clergyman. He later said, “For three years I breathed in the glory of this austere institution that was as exacting as a sheet of music.” It was during these years, in 1889, that an old school friend introduced him to his sister, Blanche Merle d’Aubigné.
MY GRANDMOTHER WAS BORN in Geneva in 1864. Her father, a widower in middle age, had remarried Frances Hardy, the daughter of John Hardy, an Irish clergyman who lived and preached in Kilcullen in County Kildare. He was the son of Captain Hardy, a career officer, attached to a British regiment.
Blanche was brought up in the splendour of the Merle d’Aubigné estate on the shore of Lake Geneva. It was nevertheless a very Calvinistic environment, which was subdued as compared to what she termed, “the ecstatic devotion of the Catholics.” One of her most vivid early recollections was that of her father standing tall in the pulpit of the St Pierre Cathedral. Her headmistress was of a similar style, with rigid discipline combined with fascinating teaching. She reflected many years later, “If I had been born fifty years later, I might have been tempted to become a doctor or a teacher, but unfortunately I let myself be influenced by the ideas of the times where those of our milieu studied music or painting, took some university courses, and learned a few useful languages.”
Blanche was very close to her sister, Julia. She also travelled extensively with her brothers. Henri was a pastor in Belgium, and Charles’s pulpit was in Germany. The two both moved to Paris and were close friends in the years ahead. She went quite frequently to Ireland to visit her mother’s family, who were active in politics, the armed forces, and the church. She met an interesting crowd of English gentlemen in Geneva, and she was intrigued by the work done by the evangelists Moody and Booth, but quite concerned about the ideas of Darwin and Huxley.
She had enjoyed social and intellectual pursuits, but her principal occupation during these prenuptial years was helping her mother, and enjoying her sister and sisters-in-law. She was proud of becoming the director of a large Sunday school, which she felt was perfect training for the future. Then, one morning during the summer of 1889, at the foot of the fountain in the main square of the alpine village of Gryon, her brother Charles introduced her to his friend Charles Bieler.
IN 1891, MY GRANDPARENTS were married in the Chapel of the Oratoire. A grand reception, attended by “le tout Genève” followed at La Graveline, the Merle d’Aubigné residence. The marriage brought together four families of diverse origins and traditions that all experienced, within a few generations, the political, military, religious, and intellectual ferment of Europe in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
The previous year, my grandfather had been approached by Mr J.L. Gaillard to succeed him as proprietor and director of the college he had founded in Lausanne some forty years previously. It had an excellent reputation, offering a complete education for boys between the ages of twelve and twenty. Charles and Blanche moved into its magnificent apartment soon after the wedding. Jean was born the following year, and the next three followed: Etienne in 1895, André in 1896, and Philippe in 1898. (Jacques was born at the Maison Blanche near Lausanne in 1901.) It was a comfortable, but most challenging, eight years. Blanche was occupied with her four babies, and Charles was learning the business, and coping with the college’s inadequate financing. Finally, in 1898, the school was closed and integrated into the Geneva school system.
My grandfather had heard that the job as director of the French Protestant Sunday Schools was available, and given the circumstances he didn’t hesitate. It was an opportunity to return to a life more closely associated with the ministry and the teaching of theology, as well as returning to a Paris that he had enjoyed in the past and where most of Blanche’s brothers and sisters now lived. It was nevertheless a courageous step to leave their country of origin, with a growing family and slender resources. The return was, in one sense, a reversal of the Huguenot emigration.
The family first settled in a small house in the chic district of Neuilly, not far from Oncle Charles’s church. He was the pastor, and the church became their religious centre. Oncle Charles was conveniently well off, and lived in a large house nearby, full of cousins. My grandmother explained: “Our relationship with my brothers, sisters, sisters-in-law, and their children was also excellent. Soon the cousins began to form groups: Louisette, Emile, and Jean were already absorbed in serious studies; Idelette and Etienne were always good friends, especially since the day of a gallant rescue of a doll that had fallen into the wrong hands; André, Philippe, and Guy, the three responsible for this nasty act, and many others; and finally Robert and Jacques, who would have become great friends if circumstances had allowed it. They all went to the same schools, first of all to École Nicolet, and afterwards to the Lycée Carnot. The school days were long and tiring, and usually followed by my helping Jean prepare his essays, while Philippe was preparing his future role by machine-gunning his cardboard soldiers. Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with Etienne’s times tables!”
Meanwhile my grandparents found time to pursue various other activities. “For my husband it involved his increasing interest in his publications and his reports. For me it was the satisfaction of collaborating a little with his work and undertaking some practical endeavours, including the direction of the nursery class of the Neuilly school.” Their time together was precious, as my grandfather was very often away doing his rounds of Sunday schools, right across the country.
As some of the children were reaching secondary-school age, they decided to move closer to the centre of town. Neuilly was in any case too expensive. They found a pleasant small house in Levallois-Perret, a nearby suburb, which was closer to both transportation and the shops.
Before leaving Geneva, eight years before, my grandmother had decided to try and maintain, during the summer holidays, some close ties with the Swiss countryside. They found a lovely old house, la Maison Blanche, next to a lake, at the edge of a forest in the foothills of the Alps, and not far from Oncle Charles’s farm. To make this economically feasible, she organized a summer camp for boys, a pioneering venture in the Switzerland of the early days of the twentieth century. There were various courses for those who needed to repeat their exams, manual work, swims, hikes, etc. The boys were international, and my grandfather was proud to point out that some of the boys did well in life: Claude Elliott became Provost of Eton College and Alfred Roth chief of Clemenceau’s cabinet. My grandmother was more likely to talk about the house becoming a local religious and social centre.
WHAT WERE THE MOTIVATIONS that brought my family to Canada in 1908? My grandfather recorded that he had not become a French citizen, and he realized that, as his five sons grew, their future in France might be precarious, and that some avenues and opportunities would be closed to them. He had experienced this problem himself. Perhaps the cost of educating his children overseas would be helpful. They had been in Paris since 1898: undoubtedly they were influenced by the political ambiance of France at that period. It was a time of economic stagnation and a growing fear of the organizational strength of Germany, as focused in Paul Valéry’s essay “La Conquete Allemande,” published in 1897. The Panama Canal project had evolved into a political scandal, with the exposure of corruption, and brought no less than financial ruin for many of the bourgeoisie. Above all, the political and intellectual “cause célèbre” of the Dreyfus affair had radically reduced the international prestige of France. The pardon of Dreyfus in 1899, associated with the threat of boycott by foreign countries of the great Exposition of 1900, was at best a compromise. Zola saw the exposition (and the pardon) as “strangling truth and justice,” in his play “La Verité en Marche.” The innocence of Dreyfus was not declared until 1906.
These events were of deep concern to my grandparents, as evidenced by their diaries. In the spring of 1908, he was offered the position to succeed Professor Coussinat, then back in France, for the post of teaching theology to the French-speaking students at the Presbyterian College of Montreal. The principal, John Scrimger, confirmed the offer: “At a meeting of the Presbyterian College Board held yesterday 23 May 1908, I was authorized by a unanimous vote to offer you the position as French Professor.” This was a particularly timely development.
They were about to make yet another move. My grandfather was forty-eight, and my grandmother forty-four. My father, Jean, was sixteen and was completing his French matriculation. His brother Etienne was thirteen, and already an accomplished mathematician. André was twelve and intrigued by all things artistic. Philippe was a joyful and handsome ten-year-old, and Jacques was what his parents described as the perfect toddler.
