rivets the attention, the multiplied undertakings he commenced and
abandoned in a career so often stained with blood, his audacity, his
feebleness, or that misery of many years by which he was to expiate a
short and ill-used tenure of power. There are men who, like the storm
birds before the tempest, appear in history as foretokens of the
approaching outburst of great convulsions. Of such a nature was
Christian, who, tossed hither and thither between all the various
currents of his time without central consistence, awakened alternately
the fear or pity of the beholders.
Frederick I, who was chosen to succeed him in Denmark, wrote to the
estates of Sweden, demanding that in accordance with the stipulations of
the Union of Kalmar he might also be acknowledged king in Sweden. They
replied "that they had elected Gustavus Ericson to be Sweden's king."
That event came to pass at the Diet of Strengess, June 7, 1523. Thus was
the union dissolved, after enduring one hundred twenty-six years. Norway
wavered at this critical moment. The inhabitants of the southern portion
declared, when the Swedes under Thure Jenson (Roos) and Lawrence
Siggeson (Sparre) had penetrated into their country as far as Opslo,
that they would unite with Sweden if they might rely upon its support.
Bohusland was subdued, Bleking likewise on another side, and Gustavus
sought, both by negotiation and arms, to enforce the old claims of
Sweden to Scania and Halland. The town of Kalmar was taken on May 27th,
and the castle on July 7th. Stockholm having surrendered on June 20th,
on condition of the free departure of the garrison with their property
and arms, and of every other person who adhered to the cause of
Christian, Gustavus made his public entry on Midsummer's Eve; before the
end of the year Finland also was reduced to obedience. The kingdom was
freed from foreign enemies, but internal foes still remained; and Lubeck
was an ally whose demands made it more troublesome than it would have
been as an enemy.
A town wasted in the civil war had been the scene of the election of
Gustavus Vasa to the throne. In the capital, when he made his public
entry, one-half of the houses were empty, and of population scarcely a
fourth part remained. To fill up the gap, he issued an invitation to the
burghers in other towns to settle there, a summons which he was obliged
twelve years afterward to renew, "seeing that Stockholm had not yet
revived from the days of King Christian." The spectacle which here met
his eyes was a type of the condition of the whole kingdom, and never was
it said of any sovereign with more justice that the throne to which he
had been elevated was more difficult to preserve than to win.
FOOTNOTES:
[35] Translated by J. H. Turner, M.A.
THE PEASANTS' WAR IN GERMANY
A.D. 1524
J. H. MERLE D'AUBIGNE
The Peasants' War was the most widespread and most bloody of
the mediaeval forerunners of the French Revolution. Like the
rebellion of the Jacquerie and many another ferocious,
desperate outburst of the downtrodden common folk, it
foretold a day of vengeance to come. These early uprisings
were all hopeless from their start, because the untrained
and naked bodies of the people, however numerous, could not
possibly hold an open battlefield against skilled and armed
men of war. Each revolt terminated in the butchery of the
unhappy rebels.
The Peasants' War has acquired special notoriety because of
its connection with the Reformation. The people rose in the
name of religion, and, as their ignorance and ferocity led
them into hideous excesses of revenge upon their oppressors,
the new religion was blamed for all the evil thus done in
its name. This revolt, because of the fear and disgust it
roused, became the most severe set-back Protestantism
received in all its struggle with the more ancient and
conservative Church.
The following account of the outbreak and its consequences
is by a standard Protestant historian, president of the
College of Geneva, a student who can see justice on both
sides of the great controversy.
A political ferment, very different from that produced by the Gospel,
had long been at work in the empire. The people, bowed down by civil and
ecclesiastical oppression, bound in many countries to the seigniorial
estates, and transferred from hand to hand along with them, threatened
to rise with fury and at last to break their chains. This agitation had
showed itself long before the Reformation by many symptoms, and even
then the religious element was blended with the political; in the
sixteenth century it was impossible to separate these two principles, so
closely associated in the existence of nations. In Holland, at the close
of the preceding century, the peasants had revolted, placing on their
banners, by way of arms, a loaf and a cheese, the two great blessings of
these poor people. The "Alliance of the Shoes" had shown itself in the
neighborhood of Spires in 1502. In 1513 it appeared again in Breisgau,
being encouraged by the priests. In 1514 Wuertemberg had seen the
"League of Poor Conrad," whose aim was to maintain by rebellion "the
right of God." In 1515 Carinthia and Hungary had been the theatres of
terrible agitations. These seditions had been quenched in torrents of
blood, but no relief had been accorded to the people. A political
reform, therefore, was not less necessary than a religious reform. The
people were entitled to this; but we must acknowledge that they were not
ripe for its enjoyment.
Since the commencement of the Reformation, these popular disturbances
had not been renewed; men's minds were occupied by other thoughts.
Luther, whose piercing glance had discerned the condition of the people,
had already from the summit of the Wartburg addressed them in serious
exhortations calculated to restrain their agitated minds:
"Rebellion," he had said, "never produces the amelioration we desire,
and God condemns it. What is it to rebel, if it be not to avenge one's
self? The devil is striving to excite to revolt those who embrace the
Gospel, in order to cover it with opprobrium; but those who have rightly
understood my doctrine do not revolt."
Everything gave cause to fear that the popular agitation could not be
restrained much longer. The government that Frederick of Saxony had
taken such pains to form, and which possessed the confidence of the
nation, was dissolved. The Emperor, whose energy might have been an
efficient substitute for the influence of this national administration,
was absent; the princes whose union had always constituted the strength
of Germany were divided; and the new declaration of Charles V against
Luther, by removing every hope of future harmony, deprived the reformer
of part of the moral influence by which in 1522 he had succeeded in
calming the storm. The chief barriers that hitherto had confined the
torrent being broken, nothing could any longer restrain its fury.
It was not the religious movement that gave birth to political
agitations; but in many places it was carried away by their impetuous
waves. Perhaps we should even go further, and acknowledge that the
movement communicated to the people by the Reformation gave fresh
strength to the discontent fermenting in the nation. The violence of
Luther's writings, the intrepidity of his actions and language, the
harsh truths that he spoke, not only to the Pope and prelates, but also
to the princes themselves, must all have contributed to inflame minds
that were already in a state of excitement. Accordingly, Erasmus did not
fail to tell him, "We are now reaping the fruits that you have sown."
And further, the cheering truths of the Gospel, at last brought to
light, stirred all hearts and filled them with anticipation and hope.
But many unregenerated souls were not prepared by repentance for the
faith and liberty of Christians. They were very willing to throw off the
papal yoke, but they would not take up the yoke of Christ. And hence,
when princes devoted to the cause of Rome endeavored in their wrath to
stifle the Reformation, real Christians patiently endured these cruel
persecutions; but the multitude resisted and broke out, and, seeing
their desires checked in one direction, gave vent to them in another.
"Why," said they, "should slavery be perpetuated in the state while the
Church invites all men to a glorious liberty? Why should governments
rule only by force, when the Gospel preaches nothing but gentleness?"
Unhappily, at a time when the religious reform was received with equal
joy both by princes and people, the political reform, on the contrary,
had the most powerful part of the nation against it; and while the
former had the Gospel for its rule and support, the latter had soon no
other principles than violence and despotism. Accordingly, while the one
was confined within the bounds of truth, the other rapidly, like an
impetuous torrent, overstepped all limits of justice. But to shut one's
eyes against the indirect influence of the Reformation on the troubles
that broke out in the empire would betoken partiality. A fire had been
kindled in Germany by religious discussions from which it was impossible
to prevent a few sparks escaping, which were calculated to inflame the
passions of the people.
The claims of a few fanatics to divine inspiration increased the evil.
While the Reformation had continually appealed from the pretended
authority of the Church to the real authority of the holy Scriptures,
these enthusiasts not only rejected the authority of the Church, but of
the Scriptures also; they spoke only of an inner word, of an internal
revelation from God; and, overlooking the natural corruption of their
hearts, they gave way to all the intoxication of spiritual pride, and
fancied they were saints.
"To them the holy Scriptures were but a dead letter," said Luther, "and
they all began to cry, 'The Spirit! the Spirit!' But most assuredly I
will not follow where their spirit leads them. May God of his mercy
preserve me from a church in which there are none but saints. I desire
to dwell with the humble, the feeble, the sick, who know and feel their
sins, and who groan and cry continually to God from the bottom of their
hearts to obtain his consolation and support." These words of Luther
have great depth of meaning, and point out the change that was taking
place in his views as to the nature of the Church. They indicate at the
same time how contrary were the religious opinions of the rebels to
those of the Reformation.
The most notorious of these enthusiasts was Thomas Munzer; he was not
devoid of talent, had read his Bible, was zealous, and might have done
good if he had been able to collect his agitated thoughts and find peace
of heart. But as he did not know himself, and was wanting in true
humility, he was possessed with a desire of reforming the world, and
forgot, as all enthusiasts do, that the reformation should begin with
himself. Some mystical writings that he had read in his youth had given
a false direction to his mind. He first appeared at Zwickau, quitted
Wittenberg after Luther's return, dissatisfied with the inferior part he
was playing, and became pastor of the small town of Alstadt in
Thuringia. He could not long remain quiet, and accused the reformers of
founding, by their adherence to the letter, a new popery, and of forming
churches which were not pure and holy.
"Luther," said he, "has delivered men's consciences from the yoke of the
Pope, but he has left them in a carnal liberty, and not led them in
spirit toward God."
He considered himself as called of God to remedy this great evil. The
revelations of the Spirit were in his eyes the means by which his reform
was to be effected. "He who possesses this spirit," said he, "possesses
the true faith, although he should never see the Scriptures in his life.
Heathens and Turks are better fitted to receive it than many Christians
who style us enthusiasts." It was Luther whom he here had in view. "To
receive this Spirit we must mortify the flesh," said he at another time,
"wear tattered clothing, let the beard grow, be of sad countenance, keep
silence, retire into desert places, and supplicate God to give us a sign
of his favor. Then God will come and speak with us, as formerly he spoke
with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. If he were not to do so, he would not
deserve our attention. I have received from God the commission to gather
together his elect into a holy and eternal alliance."
The agitation and ferment which were at work in men's minds were but too
favorable to the dissemination of these enthusiastic ideas. Man loves
the marvellous and whatever flatters his pride. Munzer, having persuaded
a part of his flock to adopt his views, abolished ecclesiastical singing
and all other ceremonies. He maintained that obedience to princes, "void
of understanding," was at once to serve God and Belial. Then, marching
out at the head of his parishioners to a chapel in the vicinity of
Alstadt, whither pilgrims from all quarters were accustomed to resort,
he pulled it down. After the exploit, being compelled to leave that
neighborhood, he wandered about Germany, and went as far as Switzerland,
carrying with him, and communicating to all who would listen to him, the
plan of a general revolution. Everywhere he found men's minds prepared;
he threw gunpowder on the burning coals, and the explosion forthwith
took place.
Luther, who had rejected the warlike enterprises of Sickengen, could not
be led away by the tumultuous movements of the peasantry. He wrote to
the Elector: "It causes me especial joy that these enthusiasts
themselves boast, to all who are willing to listen to them, that they do
not belong to us. The Spirit urges them on, say they; and I reply, it is
an evil spirit, for he bears no other fruit than the pillage of convents
and churches; the greatest highway robbers upon earth might do as much."
At the same time, Luther, who desired that others should enjoy the
liberty he claimed for himself, dissuaded the Prince from all measures
of severity: "Let them preach what they please, and against whom they
please," said he; "for it is the Word of God that must march in front
of the battle and fight against them. If their spirit be the true
spirit, he will not fear our severity; if ours is the true one, he will
not fear their violence. Let us leave the spirits to struggle and
contend with one another. Perhaps some persons may be led astray; there
is no battle without wounds; but he who fighteth faithfully shall be
crowned. Nevertheless, if they desire to take up the sword, let your
highness forbid it, and order them to quit the country."
The insurrection began in the Black Forest, and near the sources of the
Danube, so frequently the theatre of popular commotions. On the 19th of
July, 1524, some Thurgovian peasants rose against the Abbot of
Reichenau, who would not accord them an evangelical preacher. Ere long
thousands were collected round the small town of Tengen to liberate an
ecclesiastic who was there imprisoned. The revolt spread with
inconceivable rapidity from Swabia as far as the Rhenish provinces,
Franconia, Thuringia, and Saxony. In the month of January, 1525, all
these countries were in a state of rebellion.
About the end of this month the peasants published a declaration in
twelve articles, in which they claimed the liberty of choosing their own
pastors; the abolition of small tithes, of slavery, and of fines on
inheritance; the right to hunt, fish, and cut wood, etc. Each demand was
backed by a passage from holy writ, and they said in conclusion, "If we
are deceived, let Luther correct us by Scripture."
The opinions of the Wittenberg divines were consulted. Luther and
Melanchthon delivered theirs separately, and they both gave evidence of
the difference of their characters. Melanchthon, who thought every kind
of disturbance a crime, oversteps the limits of his usual gentleness,
and cannot find language strong enough to express his indignation. The
peasants are criminals against whom he invokes all laws human and
divine. If friendly negotiation is unavailing, the magistrates should
hunt them down as if they were robbers and assassins. "And yet," adds
he--and we require at least one feature to remind us of
Melanchthon--"let them take pity on the orphans when having recourse to
the penalty of death!"
Luther's opinion of the revolt was the same as Melanchthon's, but he had
a heart that beat for the miseries of the people. On this occasion he
manifested a dignified impartiality, and spoke the truth frankly to both
parties. He first addressed the princes, and more especially the
bishops:
"It is you," said he, "who are the cause of this revolt; it is your
clamors against the Gospel, your guilty oppressions of the poor, that
have driven the people to despair. It is not the peasants, my dear
lords, that rise up against you--it is God himself who opposes your
madness. The peasants are but the instruments he employs to humble you.
Do not imagine you can escape the punishment he is preparing for you.
Even should you have succeeded in destroying all these peasants, God is
able from the very stones to raise up others to chastise your pride. If
I desired revenge, I might laugh in my sleeve, and look on while the
peasants were carrying on their work, or even increase their fury; but
may God preserve me from such thoughts! My dear lords, put away your
indignation, treat those poor peasants as a man of sense treats people
who are drunk or insane. Quiet these commotions by mildness, lest a
conflagration should arise and burn all Germany. Among these twelve
articles there are certain demands which are just and equitable."
This prologue was calculated to conciliate the peasants' confidence in
Luther, and to make them listen patiently to the truths he had to tell
them. He represented to them that the greater number of their demands
were well founded, but that to revolt was to act like heathens; that the
duty of a Christian is to be patient, not to fight; that if they
persisted in revolting against the Gospel in the name of the Gospel, he
should look upon them as more dangerous enemies than the Pope. "The Pope
and the Emperor," continued he, "combined against me; but the more they
blustered, the more did the Gospel gain ground. And why was this?
Because I have never drawn the sword or called for vengeance; because I
never had recourse to tumult or insurrection: I relied wholly on God,
and placed everything in his almighty hands. Christians fight not with
swords or arquebuses, but with sufferings and with the Cross. Christ,
their captain, handled not the sword. He was hung upon a tree."
But to no purpose did Luther employ this Christian language. The people
were too much excited by the fanatical speeches of the leaders of the
insurrection to listen, as of old, to the words of the reformer. "He is
playing the hypocrite," said they; "he flatters the nobles. He has
declared war against the Pope, and yet wishes us to submit to our
oppressors."
The revolt, instead of dying away, became more formidable. At Weinsberg,
Count Louis of Helfenstein and the seventy men under his orders were
condemned to death by the rebels. A body of peasants drew up with their
pikes lowered, while others drove the count and his soldiers against
this wall of steel. The wife of the wretched Helfenstein, a natural
daughter of the emperor Maximilian, holding an infant two years old in
her arms, knelt before them, and with loud cries begged for her
husband's life, and vainly endeavored to arrest this march of murder; a
boy, who had been in the count's service and had joined the rebels,
capered gayly before him, and played the dead march upon his fife, as if
he had been leading his victims in a dance. All perished; the child was
wounded in its mother's arms, and she herself thrown upon a dung-cart
and thus conveyed to Heilbronn.
At the news of these cruelties, a cry of horror was heard from the
friends of the Reformation, and Luther's feeling heart underwent a
terrible conflict. On the one hand the peasants, ridiculing his advice,
pretended to receive revelations from heaven, made an impious use of the
threatenings of the Old Testament, proclaimed an equality of rank and a
community of goods, defended their cause with fire and sword, and
indulged in barbarous atrocities. On the other hand, the enemies of the
Reformation asked the reformer, with a malicious sneer, if he did not
know that it was easier to kindle a fire than to extinguish it. Shocked
at these excesses, alarmed at the thought that they might check the
progress of the Gospel, Luther hesitated no longer, no longer
temporized; he inveighed against the insurgents with all the energy of
his character, and perhaps overstepped the just bounds within which he
should have contained himself.
"The peasants," said he, "commit three horrible sins against God and
man, and thus deserve the death of body and soul. First, they revolt
against their magistrates, to whom they have sworn fidelity; next, they
rob and plunder convents and castles; and lastly, they veil their crimes
with the cloak of the Gospel. If you do not put a mad dog to death, you
will perish, and all the country with you. Whoever is killed fighting
for the magistrates will be a true martyr, if he has fought with a good
conscience." Luther then gives a powerful description of the guilty
violence of the peasants who force peaceful and simple men to join their
alliance and thus drag them to the same condemnation. He then adds: "For
this reason, my dear lords, help, save, deliver, have pity on these poor
people. Let everyone strike, pierce, and kill who is able. If thou
diest, thou canst not meet a happier death; for thou diest in the
service of God, and to save thy neighbor from hell."
Neither gentleness nor violence could arrest the popular torrent. The
church-bells were no longer rung for divine service; whenever their deep
and prolonged sounds were heard in the fields, it was the tocsin, and
all ran to arms. The people of the Black Forest had rallied round John
Muller of Bulgenbach. With an imposing aspect, covered with a red cloak
and wearing a red cap, this leader boldly advanced from village to
village followed by the peasantry. Behind him, on a wagon decorated with
ribands and branches of trees, was raised the tricolor flag--black, red,
and white--the signal of revolt. A herald dressed in the same colors
read the twelve articles, and invited the people to join in the
rebellion. Whoever refused was banished from the community.
Ere long this march, which at first was peaceful, became more
disquieting. "We must compel the lords to submit to our alliance,"
exclaimed they. And to induce them to do so, they plundered the
granaries, emptied the cellars, drew the seigniorial fish-ponds,
demolished the castles of the nobles who resisted, and burned the
convents. Opposition had inflamed the passions of these rude men;
equality no longer satisfied them; they thirsted for blood, and swore to
put to death every man who wore a spur.
At the approach of the peasants, the cities that were unable to resist
them opened their gates and joined them. In whatever place they entered,
they pulled down the images and broke the crucifixes; armed women
paraded the streets and threatened the monks. If they were defeated in
one quarter, they assembled in another, and braved the most formidable
forces. A committee of peasants was established at Heilbrunn. The counts
of Lowenstein were taken prisoners, dressed in a smock-frock, and then,
a white staff having been placed in their hands, they were compelled to
swear to the twelve articles. "Brother George, and thou, brother
Albert," said a tinker of Ohringen to the counts of Hohenlohe who had
gone to their camp, "swear to conduct yourselves as our brethren, for
you also are now peasants; you are no longer lords." Equality of rank,
the dream of many democrats, was established in aristocratic Germany.