X.

At the Diet of 1529 the Protestants had gained a moral victory, but they had suffered a material defeat; for the government of the Empire was now entirely in the hands of their antagonists. It seemed, therefore, prudent to prepare for future emergencies, and some of the Protestant Princes began negotiations with several cities, both German and Swiss. A comprehensive scheme was devised which, if successfully carried out, would have entirely changed the political aspect of Germany, if not of Europe. Unfortunately this plan, the execution of which could alone have saved the cause of Protestantism, was frustrated by the well-known theological difference between the adherents of Luther and Zwingli. Thus, Edition: current; Page: [lxxx] instead of first combining against the common enemy, and subsequently in firm union settling the theological differences, or even leaving them unsettled, the logical order of the proceeding was reversed. The Theologians first assembled to discuss their religious differences, and the result was that fatal schism which divided the camp of the Protestants, and permanently damaged their cause. Luther and his more immediate followers decided that it would not be justifiable to form an alliance with the Zwinglians, and further, that it would be an offence against law and religion to offer armed resistance to the Emperor. The co-operation of Upper Germany, Suabia and Switzerland was lost in consequence, and—in face of the armed and threatening enemy—all preparations for defence were neglected on account of religious scruples. “Surely,” says Ranke, “this was not prudent, but it was grand.”

Whilst the German Theologians discussed religious subjects and the “right of resistance,” Charles V. strengthened his position in Italy, and Clement VII. placed on his head, at Bologna, the crown of Charles the Great. The Emperor was surrounded on this occasion chiefly by Italian Princes and Spanish Grandees, and only one or two German Princes were present. The coronation was, therefore, against the “ancient German custom,” but Charles was crowned as a Roman and not as a German Emperor of Germany. He might have been like Henry the Fowler, another founder or regenerator of the German Empire, whereas he renovated the Imperial dignity only so far as his own personality was concerned. This step was very significant, and may serve as a clue to his subsequent course of action.

It is well known that the Pope and Emperor distrusted each other, but they were diplomatic enough to assume the mask of mutual friendship. There was, moreover, one powerful bond of union between them, namely, the determination to eradicate German “heresy.” This resolve was one of the principal motives of the Emperor’s journey to Germany, in the summer of 1530, for the purpose of holding a Diet at Augsburg. The Edition: current; Page: [lxxxi] writ issued on that occasion was peaceful and gracious enough. His avowed object was “to settle the prevailing discord, and to learn and graciously to consider everybody’s conviction, opinion, and views, for the benefit of Christian truth.”

It may reasonably be assumed that the Emperor was benevolently disposed, and would have preferred to see his point carried by gentle means. His benevolence was, however, of that conditional kind only, which first tries peaceful means, but subsequently has recourse to arbitrary and violent measures, should the gentle measures prove futile. He was not imbued with that absolute benevolence and clemency which shows mercy even to the guilty, or the supposed guilty. The Roman Catholic Princes were aware of this disposition of the Emperor, and of his secret agreement with the Pope, though the Protestant Princes implicitly believed in his peaceful and gracious assurances. The latter now hopefully looked forward to an amicable settlement of the prevailing discord, and at once proceeded to draw up a Programme, containing the substance of the reformed creed.

It did not take long however for the Protestants to see their error. Even before the Emperor’s arrival at Augsburg he urged the Elector John of Saxony not to allow the preachers he had brought with him to preach in public. This demand was repeated in Augsburg, in the Emperor’s presence, after his arrival in that city, to the Elector of Saxony, and several other Protestant Princes. The theological defence of the evangelical sermons by the Landgrave of Hesse merely served to arouse the wrath and indignation of Charles. When, however, the aged warrior, the Margrave George of Brandenburg emphatically exclaimed: “Sire, before renouncing the word of God, I would rather kneel down on this spot and let my head be cut off,” the Emperor was deeply moved by this energetic protest, and uttered in his Low-German vernacular the reassuring words: “No heads off! no heads off, my dear Prince!”

The Protestant Princes also declined to join in the public procession on the festival of Corpus Christi, which was Edition: current; Page: [lxxxii] celebrated the following day, in spite of the Emperor’s earnest invitation to attend it. Charles was startled by this stubborn resistance. He had cherished the hope that the halo of worldly glory which surrounded him, together with his brilliant entry into Augsburg, would dazzle and overawe the Protestant Princes; but they remained firm. Neither threats nor promises could move them. They were quite of a distinct caste from the Princes who had betrayed the cause of the Reformation at Worms; they were conscious of the risk they ran, and were ready to die for their religious convictions. It is true they were greatly encouraged by Luther, who, in order to be nearer to them while the Diet was held at Augsburg, had repaired to Coburg. He addressed to the Prince Elector of Saxony from his second “Patmos,” as it were, letters of exhortation and comfort, full of energy and of that irresistible eloquence which is the result of inner conviction. Whenever the Princes and Melanchthon wavered, they were inspired by Luther’s cheering and manly words, which proved particularly effective during the course of the Diet.

The religious contest being the first subject which was brought before the Diet, the Protestant Princes presented, on 25th June, 1530, their “Confession of Faith,” which had been prepared by Melanchthon. There were two versions of it, one in German and another in Latin. The Emperor naturally desired to have the second version read, but the Protestant Princes advised him patriotically to admit on German soil the German version. This step may be considered as one of the results of the Reformation. Luther had awakened in the Germans the feelings of nationality and patriotism, and had also politically freed them from the fetters of Roman bondage.

The profession of faith of the Protestant Princes, known as the “Augsburg Confession,” was drawn up in such a conciliatory spirit and contained so many concessions to Roman Catholicism, that some kind of agreement seemed to be possible, if not near at hand. The Protestants had now honestly fulfilled their duty. In accordance with the Imperial rescript Edition: current; Page: [lxxxiii] they had laid their profession of faith before the Diet; and confidently expecting a similar profession on the part of the Roman Catholics, they looked forward to the promised mediation of the Emperor. But instead of drawing up a declaration in a defensive and conciliatory spirit, as had been done by the Protestants, the Catholic party at the Diet forming the majority, issued an aggressive “Refutation,” which, receiving the Emperor’s full approval, was issued in his name, with the appended threat, that in case the Protestants should henceforth not obediently return to the Roman Catholic faith, “the Emperor would proceed against them as befitted a Roman Emperor—the protector and defender of the Church.” Manifest proofs that the admonitions of Charles V. were not mere empty threats were soon given. He made the Protestant Princes individually feel his displeasure, and he seemed fully determined to give effect to his threats by the force of arms. Fortunately the warning of the Prince Elector of Mentz in reference to the Turks of Hannibal ad portas, had the desirable effect of paving the way for mediation.

At the Conference which was held in August, 1530, for the purpose of effecting an agreement between the contending parties, a spirit of reconciliation prevailed. Both sides made concessions, and it was agreed to refer certain points of difference which were still pending to a General Council; so that there was a near prospect of a mutual understanding. Some agreement would, in all probability, have been brought about, but for the relentless spirit of fanaticism of the Roman Curia, as represented by the Legate Campeggi. It was he who frustrated the success of all further attempts at a reconciliation by inducing the Emperor and the majority of the Diet to make such conditions as the Protestants could not accept. The allied Princes remained firm, and as the attitude of the Imperial Court became more and more threatening, and the Theologians could not agree among themselves, the energetic Landgrave Philip of Hesse suddenly left Augsburg at the beginning of August. The Emperor was so startled by this unexpected Edition: current; Page: [lxxxiv] event, that he ordered the gates of the city to be watched by his soldiers; but, too late, the bird had already flown. The Prince Elector of Saxony still remained behind, but his son, the hereditary Prince, had some time previously returned home and was now in perfect safety. It was, therefore, useless to attempt a coup de main against the leaders of the Protestant party.

The Emperor’s disappointment was great, and the more so, as he was indignant against the Protestant Princes on account of their refusing to consent to the election of his brother Ferdinand as “King of Rome.” Charles V. now proceeded to the last step which made the breach between the two great portions of the German nation irremediable. On the 22nd of September, 1530, he communicated to the Estates the draft of the Decree upon which he had resolved with reference to the religious contest, and which announced his determination “to carry out unconditionally the Edict of Worms.” The Protestants were treated in that Decree as a mere sect, and their doctrines—of all shades—were indiscriminately condemned. All the usages of the old creed were to be maintained intact, and the rights of the Ecclesiastical Princes were to be fully restored, under pain of the Imperial ban. This Imperial Decree, which was virtually a total abolition of the work of the Reformation, was finally issued on the 19th of November with the additional clause—which savoured of mockery—that a time of respite should be granted to the Protestants until the 15th April, 1531, to enable them to declare their adhesion to the contested points. In the meantime the Emperor was to use his efforts with the Pope to convene a General Council to discuss the abolition of certain unquestionable abuses in the Church.

This amounted to an open declaration of war, and the Protestant Princes were prudent enough to take their measures accordingly.