At the next meeting many new points were raised against Hus, both of

doctrine and conduct. He defended his resistance to the condemnation

of Wyclif’s books, on the ground that he had been called on to say

that every proposition of Wyclif’s was either heretical, scandalous,

or erroneous. At the same time he admitted that he had wished his soul

to be with Wyclif, on account of Wyclif’s pure life. When charged with

having appealed to Christ when condemned by the Pope, he declared

that to be a most just and efficacious appeal, a statement which was

received with laughter by his judges. At the same time he indignantly

denied having encouraged his followers to smite with the material

sword. Lastly, while maintaining the justice of the decision about the

Bohemian votes, he denied the extraordinary charge of Pálec̆ that he

had driven out the Germans.

But he was, unfortunately, doomed to irritate against him on every

occasion the intense vanity of Sigismund. One great object of his

enemies was to deprive him of any benefit accruing to him from his

safe-conduct; and they caught eagerly at an expression of his that

he had come, freely and voluntarily, to the Council. Provoked at the

constant distortions of his language, he broke out with a boast, which,

however true, was most ill-judged. If, he said, he had not wished to

come to the Council, neither King nor Emperor could have compelled

him; for there were many friends who would have hidden him in their

houses, so that neither Wenceslaus nor Sigismund could have found him.

When a murmur arose at this, John of Chlum stepped forward and said

that, though he was but a poor gentlemen in his own country, he, for

one, would have guarded Hus for a year, whoever liked or disliked it;

and that there were many others who would have protected him in strong

castles. This belittling of his power roused Sigismund’s anger. He

exclaimed that he had sent Hus his safe-conduct before he left Prague;

and that he had provided the noblemen for his escort; and he now

advised Hus to submit himself completely to the Council. Hus at once

answered, in his more ordinary tone, that he thanked Sigismund for the

safe-conduct; and, for his part, he would be glad to be corrected by

the Council if he were shown to be wrong.

On June 8th, he was examined more in detail on thirty-nine Articles

gathered from his writings. Some of these dealt with the subtle

questions of Predestination; but others were concerned with his

assertions in the “De Ecclesia” that a visible head was not necessary

to the Church; and that a Pope in mortal sin ceases to be a true Pope.

Hus was able, with great force, to appeal to the action of the Council

itself in justification of these doctrines. If a Pope in mortal sin

did not cease to be a true Pope, by what right had they deposed John

XXIII.? If the visible Head was necessary to the Church, who was the

Head _then_, when all the Popes had either resigned or been deposed?

Such arguments were probably too forcible to be convincing.

But again, by some strange fatality, Hus was further to irritate

against him the suspicion and anger of the Holy Roman Emperor. “Not

only,” said Hus, “did a Pope cease to be a true Pope if in mortal

sin, but the case of the deposition of Saul by Samuel showed that a

King might be treated in a similar way.” Sigismund was sitting at a

window in a back part of the room when this utterance was made; but the

Cardinals eagerly called him forward and made Hus repeat his statement.

Nor was this the only offence which he was doomed to commit against

the Emperor on that fatal day. When the examination had concluded,

the chief Cardinal asked Hus whether he would submit entirely to the

Council, or if he wished to defend any of the Articles alleged against

him. But when Hus demanded an opportunity for further discussion, the

Cardinal answered that the Council insisted on his abjuration and

revocation of the Articles alleged against him, and his promise not to

preach them any more. To this Hus answered, that he could not revoke

and abjure opinions which he had never held, mentioning as an instance

the denial of Transubstantiation. As for the opinions which he had set

forth, he would retract them when they had been refuted. Sigismund

endeavoured to convince him that he could abjure Articles which he had

never held; whereupon Hus ventured to dispute the Emperor’s use of the

word “abjurare.” This further denial of the power of the Roman Emperor

over the Latin language roused to a still higher pitch the irritation

of Sigismund “Super Grammaticam;” and he told Hus that, unless he would

abjure and revoke all the errors alleged against him, the Council must

deal with him according to its laws.

Upon this a fat and richly dressed priest, who was sitting in the

window, cried out that they should not allow him to recant, since he

would not keep his word; and again he quoted the falsified version of

Hus’s letter. Then Pálec̆ and Michael de Causis pressed upon him a

number of charges, some new and some old, mixing up actual writings

and doings of Hus with doctrines which he had repudiated; and, after

this had continued for some time, the Council decided to send him back

to prison, to see if a period of delay would induce him to revoke his

heresies.

For the moment Hus seemed to be crushed by the noise and bitterness of

his enemies. He was leaving the Council with the sense that the world

was entirely against him, when, as he drew near to the door, John of

Chlum pressed through the crowd and shook him warmly by the hand. The

memory of that handshake seems to have lingered to the last in the mind

of Hus. Other friends, too, were still faithful to him; and, after he

had left the Council, several of them pressed to the window of the

convent where the Council was being held, to hear what should follow.

Sigismund was now thoroughly inflamed against Hus. He had belittled

the protection which Sigismund had offered him, and had declared that

his friends could protect him against the Emperor; he had quoted a

Scriptural instance of the deposition of kings; and, above all, he

had disputed Sigismund’s authority over the Latin language. Such a

man could not be suffered to live; and the Emperor now declared that

he delivered him over to the Council to be burnt, if they so pleased;

adding further, that no recantation was to be trusted. He also implied

that the death of Jerom must follow that of Hus.

Hus now saw that his fate was sealed; and one observes in his letters

to his friends the tone of a man who is preparing for death. He was

particularly anxious, lest the more ignorant of his followers should

suffer for doctrines which they had not understood, and which they had

merely adopted from a sense of personal devotion to their teacher. So

he wrote to one of these followers, that, if he should be attacked for

his adherence to Hus, he should answer his accusers by saying, “I hope

that the Master was a good Christian, but I have not understood or read

through the things which he taught in the schools.” The thought of the

corruptions of the clergy still weighed upon his mind; and he advised

his nephews rather to learn some manual work than to become priests;

lest, if they assumed the spiritual office, they should not maintain it

as it deserved.

In the meantime, the Council, with singular maladroitness, had singled

out for special condemnation the granting of the Cup to the laity;

and thus, at one stroke, they changed the doctrine of a few obscure

men into the war-cry of an indignant nation. This decree called the

attention to Hus to this matter, which, till then, he had not deeply

considered; and he wrote to his successor at the Bethlehem Chapel

that he ought not to oppose the granting of the Cup to the laity,

since there was nothing but custom against it; and that, if he opposed

Jakaubek, there would be a division amongst the faithful.

But, while Hus was thus interesting himself in the affairs of his

countrymen, the Council were not suffering him to rest in peace. One

of the few priests who had shown themselves friendly to Hus at the

Council wrote to him urging sophistical arguments in favour of a form

of recantation; and Pálec̆ paid him several visits, to worry him into

confessions of heresy. Yet, bitterly as he felt the persecutions of his

former follower, that same self-distrust and earnest desire for justice

which he had shown in the question of the three votes, and again on his

retirement from Prague, appeared, even more remarkably, in this last

interview. He entreated his enemy to pardon him for having charged him

with deliberate falsehood on the occasion of Pálec̆’s first attacks

in the Council. The savage apostate was moved even to tears for the

moment, though his pity was of short duration.

At last, on July 5th, Wenceslaus of Duba and John of Chlum were sent

to the prison to demand Hus’s final answer. But these messengers had

been ill-chosen as exponents of the sophistries of Sigismund and the

Cardinals. John of Chlum addressed the prisoner as follows: “Master

John, we are laymen and cannot advise you. Therefore, see if there is

anything in the things which they object to you, in which you feel you

are to blame. If so, do not fear to be instructed and to revoke it;

but, if you do not feel yourself guilty in your conscience in these

things, then by no means act against your conscience, nor lie in the

sight of God, but rather continue till the death in the truth which

you have acknowledged.” Then Hus answered, “Lord John! know, that if

I knew that I had written or preached anything contrary to the law or

to our Holy Mother the Church, God is my witness that I would humbly

revoke it. But I always desired that they should show me better and

more probable Scriptures than those that I had taught; and, if they

are shown me, I will most readily recant.” A bishop, who had come with

the Bohemian nobles, now introduced the sophistical platitude which is

common on such occasions--“Do you wish,” he said, “to be wiser than the

whole Council?” “I do not wish,” answered Hus, “to be wiser than the

whole Council; but I ask you to give me the least of the Council who

can inform me by better and more efficacious Scriptures; and I am ready

to revoke what I said.”

On the following day he was brought forth to receive his final

condemnation. The articles on which he was to be condemned were read

out against him, though he continued to protest against the manner

in which his words had been perverted. To his horror, he found that

they had added to the charges against him a new article, in which

he was accused of saying that he was a fourth person of the Deity.

He demanded the name of the author of this slander; but the Council

refused to tell him. Then, as a climax to his offences, they quoted

his appeal to Christ as against the Pope. At that he cried out “O Lord

God! do this Council condemn Thy law and Thy acts as an error? because

Thou, when oppressed by Thy enemies, didst commit Thy cause to Thy God

and Father, and gavest us thereby an example to appeal to Thee as the

justest Judge, humbly demanding Thy help.” Then for the last time he

recapitulated the circumstances under which he had come to the Council.

When he referred to the safe-conduct, he fixed his eye upon Sigismund;

and the Emperor was observed to blush. This blush is worth mentioning

as the only sign of grace in that mean and treacherous career. But,

of course, neither appeal nor blush could avail Hus anything; and his

statement was almost immediately followed by his condemnation to the

stake.

Then he knelt down and said, “Lord Jesus Christ, pardon all my enemies

for Thy great mercy; Thou knowest that they have falsely accused me,

that they have produced false witnesses, and that they have produced

false articles against me; pardon them for Thy mercy.” This prayer

was received with shouts of laughter. Then they stripped him of his

priestly dress, and put on him a crown which declared him to be an

Heresiarch. This was followed by a proclamation committing his soul to

the devil, to which he answered, “And I commit it to my blessed Lord

Jesus Christ.”

He had now quite recovered his composure; and, on his way to the

stake, he smiled when he saw the place where his books were being

burnt; and he smiled again when the paper crown fell off his head and

he saw the three demons which had been painted on it. When they put a

heavy chain round his neck to fasten him to the stake, he exclaimed,

“The Lord Jesus my Redeemer was bound with a heavier chain for me.”

Even after the faggots had been piled round him, the officials came to

him, asking him to recant. He answered by repudiating the false charges

that had been made against him, and declared that he had only preached

the truth of the gospel and the holy Doctors. Then, as they lit the

fire round him, he cried out, “Christ, Son of the living God, have

mercy on me;” but, as he added the words, “Who wast born of the Virgin

Mary,” a flame struck him on the mouth, and he died praying.

N.B.--For the two stories which are most generally quoted

about Hus, I can find no sufficient authority. The beautiful

tradition of his comment on the woman who brought the faggot

to burn him, seems to belong to a much later date; while the

earliest authority, which I have discovered, for the prophecy

about the goose and the swan, is Martin Luther himself. But

both the stories are eminently characteristic; and they deserve

to live as legend, if not as authentic history.

IX.

FROM THE DEATH OF HUS TO THE FIRST CORONATION OF SIGISMUND.

(July 6, 1415-July 28, 1420.)

Few great teachers are ever well represented by their immediate

followers and disciples; but hardly any have been distinguished from

their followers by so many and such important differences as those

which separated John Hus from the men who are known by his name. First

of all there was the gulf which separates the man who rejoices to die

for his faith from those who delight in killing on its behalf. But

that difference between teacher and follower, though much more vital,

is, perhaps, also more common than the barrier of doctrinal difference

which separated Hus from those who claimed to represent him. The very

practice, which supplied the war-cry of the coming struggle, was

one which Hus had merely approved with a friendly tolerance, never

advocated with any special enthusiasm; and that difference of feeling

is characteristic of the whole relations between Hus and his followers.

On the one hand the constitutional reforms of the Church, hinted at in

the “De Ecclesia,” would certainly have been rejected by the Calixtine

party; while, on the other hand, the doctrines and practices of the

Taborites would have been opposed by Hus himself. It will therefore be

more convenient, in describing the following struggle, to speak of the

Reformers by their doctrinal name of “Utraquists,” rather than by the

personal but misleading title of “Hussite.”

But, if the spirit of the living Hus could scarcely be said to rest

upon those who called themselves by his name, undoubtedly the death

of Hus was recognised, on both sides, as the essential cause of the

wars which followed. Men might wrangle about this or that doctrine or

practice; but the murder of a Bohemian, in a place to which he had been

sent under the special protection of the King and the nobles, was a

point which could never be forgiven or forgotten against Sigismund or

the Council of Constance; especially when this murder was connected

with an attempt to brand as heretics the whole Bohemian nation. This

feeling breathes through the fiery letter of the nobles of Bohemia,

which was sent to the Council on the 2nd of September, 1415. They

accused the Councillors of having condemned Hus on false evidence; and

they declared him to be a good Catholic. They give the lie to all to

dare to assert that there is heresy in Bohemia or Moravia, except only

to the Emperor Sigismund, who, they _hope_, is innocent in the matter;

and they declare that they will defend the law of Christ and His

preachers, even to the shedding of blood.

While the nobles threw down their gauntlet to the Council in this

formal manner, the main body of the people showed their feeling by

fierce riots against the monks. Churches and monasteries were burnt;

many monks were driven from Prague, and some priests were killed in

the riots. The Archbishop of Prague determined to stand by his Order;

and he too fixed on the Communion in both kinds as the dividing line

between the two parties. Finding that he could neither prohibit this

practice nor obtain compensation for the injuries done to the clergy,

he laid Prague under an Interdict.

This Interdict became a new source of division. The Utraquists utterly

disregarded it, and exposed themselves to the charge of rebellion

against the Church. The Catholics, on the other hand, scrupulously

recognised the archbishop’s decree, and therefore felt bound to

celebrate their services only in the Vys̆ehrad, which was outside the

prohibited area. The Catholic visits to that fortress were compared by

the Utraquists to the more celebrated pilgrimages to Mecca; and hence

the name of Mahometan was added to the other terms of abuse, which were

being so freely scattered by the rival theologians.

The attitude of Wenceslaus was wavering and uncertain. He had, indeed,

been disposed to accept the Council’s condemnation of the granting

of the Cup to the laity; but he had used his best influence to save

Hus, and he had resented his execution, as another proof of that

faithlessness of Sigismund, of which he had already had such painful

experience. He refused, however, to join the League which the nobles

had formed to defend the liberties of Bohemia, partly, perhaps, because

they connected it with a defence of the practice just condemned by the

Council; and he even consented to support an Opposition League formed

by the Catholic nobles in defence of the Church.

Sigismund, on his part, began to entertain hopes that he might contrive

to sow division between these rival parties; and, feeling that his

share in the death of Hus was the point which prevented his success in

these intrigues, he wrote to the Bohemian nobles assuring them that

he deeply regretted that death, that he had done his best to prevent

it, and that, if Hus had only consented to come under the Emperor’s

protection to Constance, instead of starting alone from Prague, all

would have been well; but he added that he could not have saved Hus at

the last, without breaking up the Council altogether. Whether these

falsehoods deceived any one may be doubted. At any rate they did not

accomplish Sigismund’s immediate purpose; for, when the Bishop of

Litomys̆l arrived, with authority from the Council to suppress heresy

in Bohemia, he received no encouragement either from king or from

nobles, and, when he attempted violence, he was driven out by force.

Indeed, whatever terms the nobles of Bohemia might have thought right

to make with Sigismund, as the heir to the Bohemian throne, they could

not, with any credit to themselves, come to terms at this time with

the Council of Constance. In the same letter in which the nobles

had condemned the burning of Hus, they had also complained of the

imprisonment of Jerom; and with Jerom it was clear that the Council

were determined to proceed to extremities. Worn with starvation and

chains, the unfortunate prisoner at last yielded to his persecutors;

and, while his countrymen were protesting against his imprisonment, he

had consented to recant his errors, and to acknowledge the justice of

the death of Hus. The Italian cardinals now desired to set him free;

but the German and Bohemian members of the Council, backed by the

Chancellor of the University of Paris, insisted that this recantation

was not to be trusted, and that Jerom should be further examined as

to his doctrines. Michael de Causis and Stephen Pálec̆ fastened with

relentless eagerness on their second victim, and, by so doing, they

saved his honour and reputation, and gave him an opportunity of showing

his better side.

In May, 1416, he was granted a new hearing before the Council; and,

after having been for some time pestered with questions, he was at

last allowed to speak for himself. His long oration, filled with

classical allusions, greatly impressed the Italian scholar, Poggio

Bracciolini, who was present on this occasion. But it will scarcely

strike modern readers as so edifying as the simpler utterances of Hus.

The conclusion, however, was more worthy of the occasion. It contained

a manly and straightforward eulogy on Hus, an expression of his deep

regret at the weakness which had led him to recant, and a declaration

of his adherence to the teaching both of Hus and of Wyclif. Then, on

May 14, 1416, he was led out to be burnt, and went singing to the stake.

If this execution had not been sufficient to prevent a reconciliation

between the Bohemians and the Council of Constance, another event of

the same period would certainly have deepened the division between

them. The Bishop of Olmütz died about this time, and Wenceslaus

nominated a new bishop in his stead. The Council, however, intervened;

and they not only rejected Wenceslaus’s nominee, but they demanded that

he should accept instead that Bishop of Litomys̆l whom he had just

driven out of the country as a disturber of the peace, and who was

so deeply hated for his prominent share in the condemnation of Hus.

Wenceslaus of course refused, and thereby widened the gulf between

himself and the orthodox Catholics.

Unfortunately, however, the effect of this consolidation of national

feeling was speedily weakened by the divisions which had begun to show

themselves in the Utraquist party. Teachers were coming to the front

who demanded far more sweeping reforms than those which Jakaubek of

Kladrau and the other friends of Hus were at all disposed to approve;

and they wished to enforce these reforms by the extremest violence. As

these reforms were aimed, not only at abuses in the Church, but also

at the influence of the wealthy men in the State, the Reformers soon

roused against them the fears and anger of the well-to-do citizens of

Prague. Nor were these alarms likely to be modified when it became

evident that two men, at least, of important position and remarkable

ability, were disposed to place themselves at the head of the reforming

movement.

The leader who first attracted the attention of the crowd and the fears

of the King was Nicholaus of Hus, the Guardian of the Fortress of Hus,

and the proprietor of the village of Husinec. He had been a favourite

with the King, and was reputed, even by his enemies, to be a man of

great ability and insight. He now gathered together such great crowds

of people for prayer and preaching that Wenceslaus began to suspect him

of aiming at the throne. But the more pacific abilities of Nicholaus

were soon to be thrown into the shade by his fiercer and more brilliant

ally, John Z̆iz̆ka of Troc̆nov.

Though Z̆iz̆ka, like Nicholaus, had been a favourite at Court, he

had already once offended the king by a daring act of independence.

Influenced, no doubt, by Sigismund and his friends, Wenceslaus had at

one time supported the Order of Teutonic Knights in their struggle

against the King of Poland. The anti-German feeling in Bohemia was

already running high, even at that time; and sympathy with their

Slavonic kinsmen induced many Bohemian officers to hasten to the

support of the Poles, in opposition to the wish of the King. In this

semi-rebellious movement Z̆iz̆ka had taken a prominent part; but he

had, since then, been pardoned and received back into favour. His

independent spirit, however, was ill-suited to a Court life, and he

was not long in giving new offence to Wenceslaus.

[Illustration: MARKET-PLACE OF PRACHATICE, THE TOWN WHERE HUS AND

Z̆IZ̆KA WENT TO SCHOOL.]

Bohemia, from the earliest times to the fall of national independence in 1620 With a short summary of later events · 第 14 / 34 段