IV.

“Your majesty must go to Germany and show there some favour to a certain Martin Luther, who is at the Court of Saxony and causes anxiety to the Roman Court by his sermons.” Such were the words which the shrewd Spanish ambassador, Don Juan Manuel, addressed to Charles V. from Rome in 1520. They were written at a time when it was still doubtful whether Leo X. would side in the impending struggle in Italy with the King of France or with the Emperor of Germany, and moreover at a time when the latter had reason to be dissatisfied with the course the Pope had taken. Leo X. had consented, in compliance with a petition from the Castilian Cortes, to introduce some reforms in the exercise of the Inquisition. This concession was, however, entirely opposed to the views of the young Emperor, who was completely guided by his Dominican confessor. Under these circumstances it was deemed expedient to make use of Luther as a kind of bugbear in order to frighten the Pope. To people not accustomed to the tortuous windings of politics it seems, of course, bewildering, that a heretic should be favoured in one country, in order to make it possible to enforce the rigours of the Inquisition in another country. In like manner Francis I. acted. In France he persecuted and burnt mercilessly the opponents of the Roman Catholic Church, Edition: current; Page: [lvii] whilst in Germany he befriended the adherents of the Reformation. This much, however, is certain, had Luther entertained the slightest suspicion at what price it was intended to extend indulgence to his work, he would have been the first to scorn that indulgence.

The advice of the diplomatic Spanish ambassador was, however, not followed. Pope and Emperor came to an amicable understanding. The former cancelled his concession to the Castilian Cortes, and promised the coveted assistance against Francis I., in Italy, whilst the latter pledged himself to crush the Reformation and to issue an Edict for the execution of the Papal Bull against Luther. Now it came to light how ill-advised was the election of Charles V. as Emperor of Germany. At the time when the celebrated Diet of 1521 assembled at Worms, the Emperor had his whole attention directed across the Alps. The affairs of Germany had only in so far any importance for him as they had any influence or bearing on the affairs of Italy. He took no note of the great objects which then agitated the hearts and minds of the Germans, and had he been able to recognise them, they would have excited in him no corresponding sympathy for them. He did not even fully understand the cultured language—as far as it existed in those days—of Germany, being able to speak Low German only. The political institutions of the country—the lingering fragments of the ancient German liberty—were thoroughly distasteful to him. He was also a bigoted Roman Catholic at heart, and—as we have seen—entirely opposed to all religious reforms. It must, therefore, be acknowledged, that among the many historical misfortunes which have befallen Germany—and no country perhaps has been tried by so many—the accession of Charles V. to the throne of the German Empire was one of the greatest. What might a German sovereign, with a due appreciation of the political and religious aspirations of the people, not have achieved at that important epoch, which was the turning-point in the history of Germany!

After the Emperor had laid his Edict regarding the Papal Edition: current; Page: [lviii] Bull before the Estates, they made him earnest representations, alleging that the people were throughout Germany so thoroughly impregnated by the doctrines of Luther, that any violent measures undertaken against him would call forth the greatest commotion. They submitted, therefore, to Charles the opinion that the Reformer should be summoned to Worms, not for the sake of any argumentative or learned disputation, but merely for a summary interrogatory. In case he should recant his doctrines concerning the Christian faith, he might further be interrogated about the minor points in his writings, and whatever was advisable should be adopted. If, however, he persisted in his refusal to recant, the necessary steps would be taken against him. We see by this that the Estates drew a distinction in Luther’s doctrines between those points which concerned the ecclesiastical administration only, and those which referred to the Christian faith proper and were chiefly contained in his work ‘On the Babylonish Captivity of the Church.’

Charles V. consented to this proposal, by which the Estates may be said to have betrayed the cause of the Reformation. Frederick was charged with the task of summoning Luther to Worms, but he prudently declined. As he was to be summoned in the name of the Emperor and the Estates, he ought to receive the citation direct from them. The stubborn character of the Elector being well known, the Emperor was obliged to yield also on this point, and in order to be consistent with official etiquette, Luther was addressed by Charles V. in the citation, issued on March 6, 1521, as “honourable, beloved, and pious!” A safe conduct for the journey to and from Worms accompanied the citation. A man less endowed with moral courage than Luther would nevertheless have shrunk from completing the journey. On his way to Worms he learned that a Mandate for the confiscation of his writings had been issued by the Emperor, and the Imperial herald actually asked him, whether he still intended to continue his journey. The Reformer undauntedly Edition: current; Page: [lix] proceeded on his way, although the Imperial Mandate clearly showed him that his writings had already been unconditionally condemned, and that he was merely summoned to declare whether he would recant or not.

Luther’s appearance before the Diet of Worms may be considered as the first official recognition of the German people as a power; for it was only by representing the danger which would arise from the unconditional condemnation of the Reformer before being heard, that the Emperor was induced to consent to the step which was resented by the Papal Legate and his party. The wrath of Aleander greatly increased, when the Imperial Estates presented to Charles V. their gravamina respecting the abuses of the Church, the abolition of which they had a right to expect in accordance with the capitulation made at the time of the Emperor’s election. That petition, which is generally regarded as a pendant to Luther’s programme of the Reformation, as contained in his address to the “Christian Nobility of the German Nation,” and which had even obtained the approval of George, Duke of Saxony (that great opponent of Luther), was, formally at least, “graciously” received by the Emperor.

When Luther arrived at Worms both his adherents and antagonists were startled. The former trembled for his safety, and the latter feared the influence of his presence—his eloquence and the victorious power of inner conviction. The Emperor’s expectations of so remarkable a personage—who was capable of inspiring such a high degree of enthusiasm and aversion—must, therefore, have been very great, and we do not wonder at his disappointment on seeing before him an insignificant-looking monk. He did not believe in the power of the mind, and it was quite natural in the young monarch that he should have looked forward to a commanding, giantlike figure, with a thundering voice, somewhat like Dr. Eck, who derived no little benefit from these accessories, so advantageous both on the political and religious platform. Even after Luther had produced—on the second day of his Edition: current; Page: [lx] appearance before the Diet—a deep impression on almost all his hearers, Charles V. could never be brought to believe that the meek Augustinian monk was the author of all the energetic and impetuous compositions which passed under his name.

Luther’s public refusal to recant unless convinced of his error through the Scriptures, was the official proclamation of the Reformation, and well might he exclaim, on the evening of the 18th of April, on coming home from perhaps the most memorable sitting of any Diet—“Ich bin durch!” But the decision of the Emperor was also taken, and on the morning of the 19th of April he declared to the Diet—in a French document written in his own hand—“that as a descendant of the most Christian German Emperors, and the Catholic Kings of Spain, he had resolved to maintain everything which had been adopted by his ancestors, more especially at the Council of Constance. . . . That he will not hear Luther again, but let him go back to Wittenberg in accordance with his safe conduct, and then he will proceed with him as a heretic.”

The fanatic advisers of the Emperor certainly wished that he should not only strictly adhere to the doctrines confirmed by the Diet of Constance, but that he also should follow its example, set by the execution of Huss, with respect to Luther; for the simple reason “that there is no need of keeping faith with heretics.” Charles V. had, however, not been informed in vain of the disposition of the people regarding the Reformer. He also took into account the views of the Imperial Estates.

The times had evidently changed since the Council of Constance. It was no longer safe to burn a heretic after he had received Imperial protection; and it may be assumed futhermore that the young monarch also possessed too much sense of honour to listen to the ruthless suggestions of his fanatical advisers. After some more attempts to induce Luther to retract—all of which, of course, proved futile—he allowed him to depart; but as he had uttered the threat to treat the excommunicated monk as a heretic, after the expiration of his safe conduct, Edition: current; Page: [lxi] Frederick, who was not undeservedly called the Wise, considered it expedient to bring Luther, by means of a stratagem, to a place of safety.

The sudden disappearance of Luther naturally caused great anxiety among his adherents; but his opponents seemed to have instinctively guessed the truth. They knew very well how little they themselves were to be trusted, and suspected that his friends had secretly saved him from their clutches. Cardinal Eleander even went nearer the mark, and expressed his opinion, that the “Saxon fox” had hidden the monk. Charles V. himself took no cognisance of the occurrence; nay, he even cautiously deferred the promulgation of the Edict against Luther, and it was only after Frederick the Wise, accompanied by the Palatine Elector, had left Worms on account of illness, that the Emperor summoned to his private residence the three clerical Electors, together with the Elector of Brandenburg, and several other members of the Imperial Estates, and communicated to them the long-expected Edict. The Imperial ban was thus promulgated on May 25, without the formal sanction of the Diet. And in order to stamp it with the appearance of legality, it was postdated to the 8th of May, when the Estates were still together in good numbers. But it was at the same time an ominous date; for on that day an alliance was concluded between the Emperor and the Pope to the effect “to have the same friends and without exception the same enemies; the same willingness and unwillingness for defence and attack.”

Another expedient was resorted to in order to gain some plausibility for the illegally issued Edict. It was sophistically averred that, as the Diet had already decided that Luther was to be proceeded against, in case he should not recant, there was no further necessity for obtaining the additional sanction of that body for the publication of the Edict. By this decree the Papal ban was confirmed, and Luther himself was now outlawed as a heretic, and his books were prohibited. The Emperor having accomplished this step, which was one of the most momentous in the eventful course of the Reformation, Edition: current; Page: [lxii] now hastened to the Netherlands, and strengthened by the league with the Pope and Henry VIII., soon began his great war against the King of France.