CHAPTER IX
THE INITIAL RESPONSE, CHATILLON LES DOMBES
THE INITIAL RESPONSE, CHATILLON LES DOMBES
The gilded cage
The day after that marvellous experience at Folléville, Vincent began to reflect on his own personal response to God's call, a call he had so unmistakably heard in the faltering voice of the dying man at Gannes and in the hundreds of whispers from anonymous voices behind the grille of the confessional. He still felt ill at ease in his work as tutor to the children of the General of the Galleys, and had come to the conclusion that he was not cut out to be a teacher. Everything he tried to do was frustrated by the example given to the boys by their shallow and often insensitive compatriots and kinsfolk. [1]
The General's wife was harassing him with her continual scruples, her tormented religiosity and her cloying, self centred devotion. Perhaps he could see in this something even more dangerous, though it was hidden under a sincere preoccupation with spiritual matters. Doesn't Abelly imply something of the kind when he explains the reasons why Vincent left the de Gondi household? Let us listen to his words:
"The General's wife had such an exaggerated regard for Monsieur Vincent and put so much trust in him that she began to fear she might lose him. How could anyone replace this man so filled with grace and enlightenment that he could give her peace of conscience, soothe her spiritual pains and direct her in the path of true and solid virtue? Her fears increased to the point where she could hardly bear him to be absent, and when Vincent's affairs made it necessary for him to go on some journey she was always anxious and afraid lest the heat or some other accident might make him ill or cause him discomfort." [2]
The de Gondi family's deep involvement in public affairs made the general picture even more sombre. Coinciding once again with the main stages in Vincent's life, the year 1617 signalled a new era in the history of France. It marked the time when Louis XIII effectively took over the government of the kingdom, having been declared of age three years earlier. The year is marked by a bloody coup d'état; on the assassination of the Queen Mother's favourite, Concino Concini, who had been the real usurper of royal power.
The plot was hatched in the young monarch's Cabinet by his favourite, Alberte Luynes, and the assassination carried out on 24th April, 1617, on the drawbridge of the Louvre by Baron de Vitry, Commander of the Bodyguard. Immediately after the murder, the King made it clear that he wanted to direct the nation's affairs himself. The Queen Mother lost control of the Kingdom and was banished to Blois, and Concini's wife, Leonora Galigai, was tried for witchcraft, condemned to death and executed on 8th July. The ex Regent's Ministers were dismissed and among these was the then little known Bishop of Luçon, Armande du Plessis, who was later to become the all powerful Cardinal Richelieu. Surprisingly, he was allowed to accompany Marie de Medici into exile at Blois as Head of her Council. Ministers who had held office under Henry IV were reinstated. [3]
Paris then witnessed the sort of violence that usually accompanies political change. The mob sacked the homes of Marshall d'Ancre, his friends and accomplices but in spite of their Italian origin the de Gondi family was not attacked. The de Gondis don't appear to have taken any part in these tragic events. The General retained his important post with the Royal Fleet and on more than one occasion the Bishop of Paris acted as impartial mediator between the Queen Mother and her son. We can be certain, however, that very disturbing rumours found their way into the household. Collet leads us to believe that Vincent felt deeply upset by these violent events [4] and his anxiety on this score was yet another reason for leaving the capital.
Testing out a response:
What Vincent had been contemplating ever since January 25th was not, in fact, an escape, but rather a response to a call. He had discovered his vocation and he realised he was not called to stay with the de Gondis, looking after their unruly young sons and directing a rather neurotic lady who would have liked to monopolise him. The people were calling; the poor, simple country folk. Clichy wasn't the answer because it was too near Paris and it might be argued that he could attend to those people and still live with the de Gondis. He put his ideas and plans before Father Bérulle, who according to Abelly "did not oppose them." [5] We should note the nuance here. The young priest was beginning to distance himself from his former spiritual guide and was about to go his own way. Bérulle found out from the Oratorian Fathers at Lyons that Chatillon les Dombes, a parish in that diocese, was vacant and that they were looking for an able and zealous pastor. He offered the post to Vincent who set off immediately for his new destination. He made the excuse that he needed to go away for a little while on urgent business and did not let the de Gondis know his real intentions. It was Lent, 1617. [6]
Chatillon les Dombes, which today is called Chatillon sur Chalaronne, had been incorporated into France only seventeen years before Vincent arrived there. By the Treaty of Lyons, 1601, the two Kingdoms of France and Savoy had exchanged the territories of Saluzzo and Bresse. Being a frontier town, Chatillon had been pillaged by both armies on far too many occasions. Its proximity to Geneva meant it was tainted with Calvinism and some of the leading families followed the reformed religion. Even though the fabric of the church was in a fairly good state of repair, as were the vestments and sacred vesseis, according to the report of the Archbishop of Lyons [7] after his canonical visitation in 1614, the spiritual situation was deplorable.
The small hospital and the presbytery were practically in ruins. The town had six chaplains whose lives were far from exemplary. They frequented taverns and gaming places, took money for hearing confessions, obliged children to make a public confession in front of their friends, and some of these chaplains had women of doubtful repute in their houses. The rest of the inhabitants followed the clergy's example. The Huguenots lived licentiously and this was approved and encouraged by their own ministers. The lax morals of Catholics gave the lie to the faith they professed. Vincent had a daunting task ahead. He looked round for help and found a good priest from Bresse who was a doctor in theology. Louis Girard agreed to be Vincent's assistant. So Vincent set to work.
Reforming the clergy
First of all he set an example. When he arrived in the town he was advised by Father Bence to take lodgings with one of the leading Protestant families so he stayed with a wealthy young man called Jean Beynier. Vincent would not allow any women, even his host's sister in law, to enter his room under any pretext whatsoever but tidied it, himself, every day. He would rise at five o'clock, and together with his companion, would make half an hour's meditation. Then he would say Mass and visit his parishioners. Vincent wore a hair shirt and was always dressed in a long cassock. His example and his words were contagious. Won over by Vincent, the six chaplains renounced their sinful ways and came to live together as a community. Vincent was more than ever convinced that the clergy had to be reformed before the people could be converted.
Converting heretics
Of course he didn't wait for the clergy to be reformed before he started to change people. His zeal was directed at Catholics and Protestans alike, and he was soon successful in dealing with both. His host, M. Beynier, changed first of all his life style and then his religion. Vincent left to others the honour of accepting his formal disavowal of heresy. Seven of Beynier's nephews and nieces surnamed Garron were converted in their turn, and became reconciled with the Church. The head of the family could not be persuaded, however. Jacques Garrow, an old man, who had once been an officer in the Duke of Montpensiers Guards, remained unmoved. Not only did he refuse to become a Catholic but he denounced Vincent before the Joint Tribunal of Grenoble. These Joint Tribunals had been set up after the Edict of Nantes to hear cases brought by litigants of different religions. Half their members were Catholics and half were Huguenots. It was a similar tribunal that adjudicated in the case of the old lady of Castres who left her fortune to Vincent. The old man's case was dismissed. The young Garrons persevered in their new faith. One of them became a Capuchin and one of the girls entered a convent. They all rivalled each other in using their wealth to serve the needy. The old father died of grief and neither his sons nor Vincent had the consolation of witnessing a change of heart.
Combating lax morals
The new parish priest was equally successful in his work with Catholics. As at Clichy and Folléville, the liturgy was celebrated with dignity and the office recited with due attention. To this was added Vincent's eloquent and passionate preaching. His style was direct and almost commonplace, but his words were full of love and conviction and his hearers found this disarming. Vincent learned the local dialect, Bressain, so as to have closer links with the people and he was soon able to teach the children their catechism in this language. One of these children would later recall how the zealous parish priest would never let a day go by without reminding them of their duty to give alms.
He was a tireless preacher. For the most important Feasts he invited the Jesuits from Lyons and religious from other Orders to speak. He spent long hours in the confessional and visited his parishioners in their homes every morning and evening. The people were astonished at such tireless activity and his pure, ardent zeal for souls. They began to look on him as a saint and Chatillon may have been the first place where people thought he would one day be canonised. Even lapsed Catholic felt drawn to him.
Two young ladies who were members of high society (the "high society" of that remote provincial place) had gained quite a reputation for their frivolity and flirtations. Françoise Baschet de Mayseriat, mistress of Chaissagne and
Charlotte de Brie, mistress of Brunand, filled their days with dancing, parties and amusements. As they listened to the first public sermon given by their new parish priest their hearts were moved by his impassioned words. They visited him in private and Vincent spoke to them so vehemently but so graciously that they were won over. They gave up the diversions of their dissipated, pleasure seeking way of life and became, instead, the parish priest's collaborators.
More remarkable still was the conversion of a nobleman, the Count of Rougemont. This gentleman from Savoy had been serving under Henry IV when his estates in Bresse were annexed to the French crown. He was know for his quarrelsome nature and was famed for his swordsmanship. He liked nothing better than fighting a duel. A tall man, he was strong and agile, and this was a great advantage when he used his sword. His opponents could certainly expect to be speedily dispatched. Nobody could count the number of people he had wounded, mutilated or killed.
He was intrigued by Vincent's reputation and went to see him. The parish priest's words, (once again it was his words) were like a two edged sword that pierced his very soul. His conversion was as swift as any of his rapier thrusts and no less spectacular. He sold his estates in Rougemont for 30,000 crowns (90,000 livres!) and gave the money to found monasteries and to help the poor. He also wanted to dispose of his castle in Chandée but Vincent wouldn't allow this. He got his own back by turning the castle into a religious guest house and a hospice refuge for the sick and for beggars. These he served with his own hands. He also paid the clergy to see to their spiritual needs. He was distressed when his spiritual director would not allow him to dispose of all his possessions.
"I do not understand", he would say, "how a Christian can possess anything of his own when the Son of Man was so poor when he was on earth." He obtained permission from the Archbishop of Lyons to have the Blessed Sacrament reserved in the chapel of his castle. He would spend long hours there, meditating on Christ's passion. He wanted to know how many strokes of the lash Our Lord had received at his scourging so that he could give the equivalent amount of alms to the Oratorians. One day he asked himself if he still felt any inordinate attachment to anything. He mentioned this to M. Vincent who spoke about it, years later, to the priests of the Mission. Let him tell the story.
"He called to mind his business affairs, his wealth, his friends, his reputation, his rank, his innocent pleasures. He ponders, reflects and meditates and finally the answer comes to him his sword! "Why do you wear that sword?" he asked himself. "Could you manage without it? What! Give up this sword which has served me so well on numerous occasions and which, after God, has delivered me from so many dangers! I would be lost without it if somebody were to attack me. But it's also possible that somebody could insult you, and if you had your sword you wouldn't be strong minded enough to refrain from using it and then you would offend God. Oh my God, what am I to do? Can I let my heart be ensnared by this instrument of my shame and of my sin? There is nothing more precious to me than this sword; it would be cowardly of me not to be detached from it." Just then he saw a boulder. He got off his horse and Whiz, bang, wham! He ended up breaking the sword into bits and went on his way. He told me that this act of detachment was like breaking an iron chain that held him prisoner, and it left him with such a feeling of freedom that in spite of the heartache, for he really loved that sword, never afterwards did he have any affection for earthly things he desired God alone." [8]
Imaginative Charity
Something else was needed before Vincent could understand the special requirements of the Mission that Providence had destined for him. He was to discover what this was at Chatillon. One Sunday, while he was vesting for Mass, the mistress of Chaissagne came to the sacristy to tell him that on the outskirts of the town there was a family in desperate need. The whole family was ill and there was nobody to help them. They had neither food nor medicine.
The good priest's heart ached at the news. He gave a very moving homily to the parishioners about this distressed family. His compassion proved contagious or, as he would say, "God touched the hearts of his listeners."
After Vespers that evening, Vincent set off to visit the unfortunate family, and was accompanied by a good man of the town. To his great surprise, he met on the way a crowd of people on that same charitable errand. It was a hot day (probably 20th August) so many of these people sat down by the roadside to have a rest and something to drink. It was just like a pilgrimage. When Vincent arrived he saw for himself the family's extreme poverty and he adminstered the sacraments to those were most seriously ill. Vincent also saw the great pile of provisions that the parishioners had left and this made him think. Yet another event and another sign from Providence had just pointed out the path he was to follow. "These poor people" he mused to himself, "have suddenly got more food than they need. Some of it will go bad and then tomorrow they'll be just as badly off. This charitable work is very haphazard." [9] What was needed was organisation.
Three days later, on Wednesday, 23rd August, Vincent put his plan into action. He called a meeting of the pious ladies in the town and these included, of course, Françoise Baschet and Charlotte de Brie. He urged them to start up an association to help the poor sick people of the area. [10] They undertook to begin this good work the next day. It would be carried out on a rota basis, according to the date that members joined, and it would be headed by the chatelaine of the district.
"No good work of importance can fail to succeed if the Mother of God is invoked, so these ladies (states the record of this meeting) took her as patron and protectress of the enterprise." [11]
The first charity association was born. Later on, the association would have to function and develop according to canonical statutes. They didn't have long to wait before this happened because Vincent acted promptly. It was three months later, on 24th November, that the Vicar General of Lyons gave formal approval to the rules of the association which now became a confraternity. [12] The constitutions of this confraternity were issued on 8th December, Feast of the Immaculate Conception, during a solemn ceremony in the hospital chapel and many people witnessed this public act. [13] The new confraternity had twelve members and Françoise Baschet, mistress of Chaissagne, and Charlotte de Brie, mistress of Brunand, were elected prioress and treasurer, respectively. After this, Vincent had no hesitation in launching into charitable works all the people who came under his spiritual leadership.
The first rules
The rules of the Chatillon charity reveal somethig of Vincent's greatheartedness when, at the age of thirty seven, he reaches full maturity. In this nascent apostle of charity, moulded by his experiences at Folléville and Chatillon, we see something of the man's heart and also his talent for organising, because with Vincent, the impulse to act was always moderated by careful planning.
Everything was worked out in detail, from the spirit and aims of the association to the procedures for electing officers; from the spirituality that animated its members to the manner in which they were to serve the poor. Vincent admits to taking his inspiration from the Hospital of Charity in Rome. It was his life long policy to profit from all his experiences and to build on these, but the substance and the form of the charity's rules are written in a sort of lyrical prose that is special to Vincent.
His main concern was that the sick should be cared for and so all the ladies were to be servants of the poor. They were to work on a daily rota so that there would be no gaps in the service, neither would there be too many helpers. They were to be careful to attend to the spiritual and material needs of these poor people, to distribute food, clothes and medicine, but they were also to invite the sick to go to Confession and Holy Communion. When they visited anyone for the first time they were to take them a white shift and, if necessary, some sheets. They would also take a crucifix and place it where it could be seen by the sick person and they would provide any basic furniture.
Vincent's sensitivity and far sightedness shine through the whole text but they are especially evident in his rules for the corporal service of the sick.
"The one whose turn it is will prepare the food and take it to the sick. When she gets there she will greet the sick person cheerfully and in a charitable manner; she will put a little table near the bed and on it place a serviette, a bowl and a spoon; she will wash the sick person's hands and say grace. Then she will pour the soup into the bowl, arrange everything carefully on the bedside table, and charitably invite the person to eat for the love of Jesus and his holy Mother. She will do everything with love, as though she were serving her own son, or rather serving God who takes as done to himself the good that is done to the poor. If necessary "She will cut up their meat and pour their drink into a glass." While doing this "she will say a few words to them about Our Lord, trying to console those who are most distressed." [14]
This page of the text is an admirable description of
Christian courtesy and charity. The rules also deal with the menu for these sick people as we see in the following recommendations. These might appear somewhat strange to our eyes but they were in keeping with the customs of those days.
"Each sick person will have all the bread they need, together with a quarter of a pound of cooked veal for the mid day meal and the same quantity roasted for supper, except on Sundays and feast days when they can have chicken. Two or three times a week they will have mince for supper. If they haven't a temperature they can have a quart of wine each day, half to be given in the morning and half in the evening. For their mid day meal on Fridays and other days of abstinence they can have soup, a couple of eggs and some butter. They will have the same for their supper and can have their eggs cooked any way they want. If fish can be bought at a reasonable price they may have it, but only for supper." [15]
The rule ends by reminding the members of the association. "They will perform all their actions purely out of love for the poor and not from any motive of human respect."
The Mission and the Charity Confraternities: Their objectives
Saint Vincent was to repeat many times during his life, "The poor country people are dying of hunger, and they risk damnation." These words sum up Vincent's frequent meditation on his experience at Folléville and Chatillon, the two major events in his life which opened his eyes to the spiritual and material poverty of the peasants. The response to these needs will be his two great works, the Congregation of the Mission and the Charity Confraternities. These are really one single work because the Company of the Mission is part of the Charities just as the Charities are part of the Mission. Both organisations sprang from the same basic experience the needs of a people who were abandoned, humiliated, and exploited; a people who were slaves to the greed of wealthy men and beasts of burden in a society based on privilege. They reflected the sombre reverse picture of that century's glory, luxury and brilliance.
These people knew hunger and poverty but they also suffered from spiritual abandonment because their pastors were so ignorant. Moreover, they had become enslaved to their passions, and this meagre compensation for so many privations put at risk their eternal salvation. In 1617 Vincent can at last view the situation clearly. He now knows what the Lord is asking of him as a priest, and this in spite of all the twists and turns of his past misguided calculations. Hidden away in Chatillon and he thought that he was giving the appropriate answer. This time, he was wrong again. Buried in the far off plains of Bresse, he might also have been a saint there, a saint like the Curé d'Ars or one in those tradition medieval saints renowned for their almsgiving.
But his vocation was meant to span wider horizons, and the unwitting instrument of Providence to arrange this was Madame de Gondi. We have her to thank for it.
A desperate struggle
The surreptitious departure of their chaplain brought consternation to the de Gondi household. His short journey was lasting too long. Where could M. Vincent have put himself? Could he have abandoned them altogether? In the middle of September, a letter from Vincent to the General of the Galleys who was in Provence at the time because of some duties, confirmed their worst fears. In the letter Vincent begged the General to accept his resignation since he had neither the grace nor the aptitude for teaching his sons. He had said nothing of this to Mde. de Gondi or to anyone in the house but he had no intention of returning. [16] The General wrote to his wife:
"I am desperate after reading M. Vincent's letter which I'm sending on to you to see if there is any way we could still prevent the misfortune of losing him. I am greatly astonished that he said nothing to us about what he intended to do... I beg you to do everything in your power to prevent him from leaving. Even if he is right in saying that he isn't qualified to teach the youngsters [the original letter refers to teaching methods this is the era of Descartes] he could always have an assistant to do that. Anyway, I am most anxious for him to return to my house. He can live his own life but with him at my side I trust that one day I may become a virtous man." [17]
If that was the General's reaction, one can easily imagine how his wife felt. Her desolation knew no bounds. She wept continually and could neither eat nor sleep.
"I never thought M. Vincent could do such a thing", she exclaimed, "he had too much charity for my soul to abandon me like this. Blessed be God! I am not blaming him for anything. I am sure he has acted out of pure love of God and in accordance with God's special designs for him." [18]
In her own way, the General's wife was too practical a woman to do no more than lament her misfortune. She began by consulting Father Bérulle who assured her he would do everything he could to made Vincent return, though he recognised that Vincent had acted from the highest motives. The sorrowful lady didn't need to be told twice. She wasted no time in starting her campaign. She moved heaven and earth. She enlisted the help of anyone who might be able to influence Vincent, though she recognised that her chaplain was not a man to do things by halves, and that before he left he would have anticipated anything she might say or do. She bombarded him with a shower of letters letters from herself, her sons, Cardinal de Retz, all her relatives, the chief officials in her household, Bérulle, doctors, religiousand other important and pious people. Only one letter, written by Mde. de Gondi, has been preserved and we have to admit that it is a model of religious sentiment, diplomacy and female perspicacity.
"I had every reason to fear that I would lose your help. I've said this so many times and now it has happened. I would not be able to bear the anxiety of it, were it not for a special grace from God which I do not deserve."
She refers to what has happened and then appeals to his charity, believing this to be the most persuasive argument for his return.
"I beg God and the Blessed Virgin to send you back to our house for the salvation of our family and that of many others who would benefit from your charity. I beg you to show that charity to us."
She doesn't stop at blackmail either, even though it is spiritual blackmail:
"If, in spite of everything, you refuse me this request, I will hold you responsible before God for anything that happens to me and will charge you with all the good works I neglect to do without your help". "I know that my life is not important since it serves only to offend God, but when I am dying my soul will need your assistance." [19]
Father Bérulle was more discreet. He contented himself with telling Vincent about Mde. de Gondi's despair and how anxious the General was to have him back in his household. He left it to Vincent's prudence to decide what course of action he should take. [20] Bérulle realises, perhaps, that he is no longer directing Vincent who has begun to follow his own path and act on his own initiative.
In a final attempt to overcome Vincent's resistance, Mde. de Gondi sent a personal representative to Chatillon. For this mission she chose an intimate friend of Vincent, M. du Fresne, who had previously been his companion in the household of Marguerite de Valois and had taken service with the de Gondis on Vincent's recommendation. Vincent's determination began to waver. He agreed to go to Lyons and consult Father Bresse, the Superior of the Oratory. At this priest's suggestion, he then decided to go to Paris and seek the advice of people who knew him well and would be best able to help him discern the will of God. Vincent confided his plans to the General and to Du Fresne who was overjoyed at the news. [21] Nobody doubted that if Vincent left Chatillon it would be for ever. Leave he certainly would but who was he leaving for?
Defeat or victory?
Vincent said goodbye to the faithful in Chatillon about the middle of December. He assured them that when he first came to the town he had intended to spend the rest of his life there, but this was not God's will and he had to obey. It was a moving farewell. Vincent shared his clothing and even his linen among the poor. The people burst into tears and loudly expressed their sorrow. [22] A poor man named Julien Caron, had to use his free arm to protect a hat given him by Vincent and which other people wanted to carry off as a relic. For a good part of the journey the whole town followed the carriage that was taking Vincent away from Chatillon. From the carriage window Vincent commended them to God and gave them his final blessing. [23] The carriage went tottering on its way through th bleak, wintry countryside. The people of Chatillon raised their hands in a last gesture of farewell. They had lost the man who, in less than six months, had transformed their town. They would never forget him.
The seed that Vincent had sowed flourished in his absence and bore much fruit. Shortly after his return to Paris, the spectre of famine afflicted Chatillon and the surrounding districts, as it was to do on so many occasions. M. Beynier, and the Ladies of Charity headed by the once coquettish Mde. de Chaissagne and Mde. de Brunand, put into practice the teachings of the Founder of the Confraternity and devoted themselves, with exemplary selflessness, to the service of those poor, starving people. They hired a barn and put into it a part of their own harvest. Then they launched acharity appeal among the confortably off neighbours at Chatillon and the surrounding districts. They distributed food to the needy with their own hands. Shortly after this came the plague, the second apocalyptic horseman of that violent century. They repeated their wonderful work. The two generous ladies, with the support of their fellow members,took up residence in some rustic cabins they had had specially made for them on the outskirts of the town. Here they set up the general headquarters of the Charity, prepared food for the starving, and medicines for the sick. Faithful and brave hands carried these to houses where people were struck down with plague. [24] The Confraternity proved to be very efficient and the solid principles on which it was founded were clearly evident. So it is not surprising that thirty years later it was still flourishing, and people would remember with affection the parish priest who was with them such a short time. In 1646, M. Vincent received this striking letter which must have filled him with nostalgia.
"I am one of your sons in Jesus Christ and I have recourse to your fatherly kindness which I have experienced several times already. I was reborn into the Church after you publicy absolved me from heresy in the church of Chatillon les Dombes in 1617, and I learnt from you the principles and beautiful maxims of the Catholic, apostolic and Roman faith. By the grace of God I have persevered in this, and hope to do so for the rest of my life. I am that little Jean Garron, the nephew of M. Beynier at Chatillon, in whose house you stayed while you were there.
I beg you to give me the help I need so as not to do anything contrary to the designs of God. My only son has decided to become a Jesuit when he has completed his studies. He is the most gifted young man in this province. What do you think I should do? I am hesitating for two reasons... I am afraid of doing the wrong thing and also I thought you might do me the favour of giving me your advice which I beg most humbly. I think you will be pleased to know that the charitable association of servants of the poor is still flourishing." [25]
Of course, M. Vincent was delighted to learn this. Wasn't the Confraternity at Chatillon the first blossoming shoot from that tree of charity which by this time had put down solid roots everywhere on French soil? Chatillon with its haughty nobility, its "precious" and frivolous ladies, its ignorant and lazy clergy, its selfish merchants, its hungry and ignorant peasants, was a microcosm of French society and of the whole Church in France which sorely needed the leaven of apostolic charity. So we can say that Vincent's escape from Chatillon was something more than mere flight. Chatillon had been the first rehearsal, a full dress rehearsal, for all Vincent's work. The show was ready to start immediately.
Vincent arrived in Paris on 23rd December, 1617. The following day, Christmas Eve, he went back to the de Gondis for the second time and was welcomed. "like an angel from heaven." [26] Vincent promised Mde. de Gondi that he would stay with her and help her until the day she died. He, in turn, was given the assurance that he could spend his time and energy doing the work to which he had been called. He had not come back by choice but had been forced to return. His withdrawal to Aventino had turned him into a conqueror. He could impose conditions.
All that remained to be done was to formally give up his title of parish priest at Chatillon. It was in a spirit of submission that Vincent did this, on 31st January, 1618. On July 18th of that same year, Loius Girard, who had been such an able assistant to Vincent, took his place at Chatillon. In the story of Vincent's life we have now turned over the pages of the chapters that relate to his youth.
