FROM THE ELECTION OF CHARLES TO THE BATTLE OF PAVIA
The Imperial Election--Preparations of Charles and Francis for
war, which is, however, delayed--The Revolt of the Comuneros--The
Diet of Worms--The Council of Regency--The Renaissance and the
Reformation--Erasmus and Luther--The Imperial Ban--War between
Charles and Francis--Their Alliances--Successes of Imperial
Troops--Adrian VI. succeeds Leo X.--His quarrel with
Charles--Battle of Bicocca--Treaty of Windsor--Luther and the
Council of Regency--Diet of Nuremberg--The Knights’ War--Congress
of Ratisbon--Battle of Pavia--The Peasants’ War.
§ 1. _The Imperial Election._
| The three candidates for the Imperial throne.
On the death of Maximilian in January 1519, the destinies of Europe
fell into the hands of three young Monarchs, all of them of marked
individuality and of great ambition. Of these Henry VIII., now in
his twenty-eighth year, was the eldest. The profound impression made
on foreigners by his personal appearance is probably in part to be
attributed to the fairness of his complexion, always much admired on
the Continent; but although in after-life he became very corpulent,
his high colouring, his massive head and wide-set eyes, his tall,
powerful, yet active frame must have been striking enough. When to
this is added his prowess in games and in the joust, his proficiency
in music and languages, and, above all, his masterful character, we
shall probably not think the estimate exaggerated.
Francis I. was only three years younger. Nearly as tall as Henry,
his dark complexion, his corpulence and thin legs especially struck
contemporaries. A patron of art, a lover of pleasure, he was a
true son of the Renaissance in its shallower aspects. With little
foresight, prudence, or statesmanship--a bad King and a bad man--he
was bold to rashness, fully as ambitious as his rivals and yet was
gifted with a certain chivalrous spirit which was wanting in Charles,
and which formed the redeeming feature of his otherwise worthless
character.
Of Charles little was at that time known, and little expected. He was
only nineteen, and was completely under the control of his Flemish
counsellor, William de Croy, ‘le Sieur de Chièvres.’ Of middle
height and slouching gait, his fine forehead and powerful aquiline
nose were spoilt by the underhanging jaw of the Hapsburg, and small
bad teeth. The troubles of his early life, the quarrels between his
father and his grandfather Ferdinand, the jealousy which Ferdinand
had subsequently shown him, the madness of his mother, had made
him reserved and grave, and perhaps destroyed the enthusiasm of
youth. These qualities gave the impression of stupidity; yet he was
soon to show the world that, beneath that impassive exterior, lay a
clear-headedness, a business capacity, and a determination which,
coupled with indifference to sentiment, was to prove him the ablest
statesman of the three.
These young Kings were the most important candidates for the imperial
throne vacant by Maximilian’s death, the election to which now
monopolised the attention of Europe. Maximilian had squandered money
and promises to win the Electors, and fondly believed that he had
secured the votes of five of them for his grandson; but no sooner was
he dead, than they repudiated their engagements, and began to chaffer
again for bribes. Henry was scarcely a serious candidate; of the other
two, the chances of Francis seemed at first the best. The victory
of Marignano, and his ambition for military renown, pointed him out
as the most likely leader of that Crusade of which Europe was ever
talking, though never undertaking; and Francis vowed that, if elected,
he would be in Constantinople within three years. Leo X., although
unwilling to declare himself, hoped to see Francis elected. The
possession of Milan by the French made their friendship necessary if
the Medici were to be secure in Florence, and it was the traditional
policy of the Popes to prevent Naples and the Empire from falling into
the same hands. ‘Do you know,’ said Leo, ‘that it is only forty miles
from Rome to the Neapolitan frontier?’ The Electors, more especially
Frederick the Wise of Saxony, and Joachim I. of Brandenburg, had
many of them been irritated by Maximilian’s opposition to reform,
and by his general policy towards them (cf. p. 110 ff.). The Rhenish
Electors--that is, the three Archbishops of Mayence, Trèves, and
Cologne, and the Elector Palatine--feared the vengeance of Francis
if they refused their votes and Richard Greifenklau, the Elector of
Trèves, was an ally of the Duke of Gueldres, the inveterate enemy of
the Hapsburgs.
Francis, moreover, was determined to obtain the coveted title. ‘And
he spent three millions of gold,’ he said, ‘he would be Emperor’;
and the bribes he offered to the Electors were higher than Charles
had to give. So poor indeed did the prospects of Charles appear that
he was urged by some to retire in favour of his brother Ferdinand,
an alternative which Charles rejected with warmth, as fatal to the
interests of his house, though promising that, if elected, he would
prevail upon Germany to accept his brother as his successor. He then
instructed his agents, for he himself was in Spain, to spare no pains
and to refuse nothing whereby his election might be secured. Thus the
dishonourable traffic continued with the Electors, who were at the
election itself to swear that they gave their votes free from all
promise, engagement, or earnest-money.
| German sentiment declares for Charles.
How the matter might have ended, if it had been left to the Electors,
it is impossible to say. But, as the day of election drew near, the
sentiment of Germany began to show itself unmistakably. Not only did
the literary men declare for Charles, but the Suabian League also
began to move. This powerful League had, in the previous May, driven
Ulrich, Duke of Würtemberg, from his duchy on account of his cruelty
and misgovernment, and was in a position to enforce its views. The
League was commanded by Duke William of Bavaria, whose sister had
been brutally treated by her husband, the Duke Ulrich, and by Franz
von Sickingen, the famous imperial knight, who was already in the
pay of Charles. The army of the League now proclaimed that it would
not submit to the election of Francis, and was joined by the Swiss.
The Confederates were generally the opponents of the Hapsburgs, and
in 1499, by the peace of Basel, which closed their last war with
Maximilian, had gained their freedom from imperial laws, justice,
and taxation (cf. p. 124). Yet, influenced by Mathias Schinner, the
Cardinal of Sion, they now supported the cause of Charles.
In the north, too, the Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel threatened
to take up arms for the German candidate. This strong expression of
German sentiment naturally influenced the Electors. They therefore
lowered their demands, and accepted smaller sums and promises from
Charles than Francis offered; while the Fuggers, the Rothschilds of
that day, refused to honour the bills of the French King. Leo, too,
seeing ‘that it was useless to run his head against a brick wall,’
abandoned his opposition to Charles.
| The Electors finally elect Charles.
The most important suffrage to be gained was that of the Archbishop
of Mayence, the brother of Joachim of Brandenburg. His vote would
certainly carry with it that of the vacillating Hermann von der
Wied, Archbishop of Cologne, and he might have some influence on
his brother, although that ‘father of all avarice’ was deeply
pledged to support the French King. The Archbishop had been offered
120,000 florins and the perpetual legateship of Germany by Francis.
Nevertheless, after much haggling, he accepted Charles’ smaller
promise of 72,000 florins and the legateship, and championed his
cause in the electoral college which met on June 18. Here the Elector
of Trèves, who had dipped deeply into French money-bags, urged the
claims of Francis, and suggested, that if he were not acceptable, they
should elect some other German prince likely to be less dangerous
than Charles--the Duke of Bavaria, the Margrave of Brandenburg, or
the Elector of Saxony. This had been the final move of Francis. The
Elector of Saxony was the only one who had honourably refused all
bribes, and so great was the reputation of his virtuous and godly
life, as also of his singular wisdom, that, had he been willing, he
might have been chosen. Too shrewd, however, to accept so dangerous
a position, and patriotic enough to wish it conferred on a German,
he declined the offer, and declared for Charles. His conduct decided
the matter. Lewis, the young King of Bohemia, had married Mary,
sister of Charles, and voted for his brother-in-law. Hermann von der
Wied, Archbishop of Cologne, followed the lead of Mayence; the three
remaining Electors, the Archbishop of Trèves, the Elector Palatine,
and the Margrave of Brandenburg, followed suit, and Charles was
unanimously elected Emperor. The papal confirmation was no longer
thought necessary for the assumption of the title of Emperor, and,
though Charles was subsequently crowned by the Pope at Bologna (1530),
he at once assumed the title, not of King of the Romans, but of
Emperor Elect. Thus ended the most memorable of the elections to that
imperial dignity, which was fast becoming a mere shadow--an election
which surpassed all others in the shameless corruption and intrigue
which accompanied it, and which Henry’s agent Pace declared to be ‘the
dearest merchandise which ever was bought.’
The desire of Francis to attain the title is a proof of his want of
statesmanship. His success would have been disastrous to his country;
the hostility of Germany, and probably of the whole of Europe, would
have been aroused, and the resources of France would have been
exhausted in a struggle in which she was not really interested.
| The Capitulations.
By the election of Charles, the magnificent dreams of Frederick III.
and of Maximilian were in part realised. The house of Hapsburg now
ruled over Germany, the Netherlands, Spain, Naples, and a large part
of the New World, and held once more the title of the Holy Roman
Emperor. And yet it may be questioned whether the imperial dignity was
really a source of strength. As a price of his election Charles had
to sign the ‘Capitulations,’ which henceforth were demanded of every
Emperor Elect. These ‘Capitulations’ well illustrate the views of
the German Princes. The fear of the Spanish and Flemish parentage of
the new Emperor is seen in their demands that German or Latin should
be the official language, that imperial offices should be reserved
for Germans, that the States should not be subject to any foreign
jurisdiction, and that no foreign troops should serve in imperial
wars without the consent of the Diet. The opposition to papal claims
prompted the Princes to insist on the abolition of every innovation
introduced by the court of Rome, in contravention of the concordat
made with Germany after the Council of Constance (1418). Finally,
determined to maintain their privileges, they demanded that Charles
should confirm their sovereign rights and appoint a standing Council
which should take a share in government. These last demands were of
serious import, and led to serious controversies. For the rest, as the
sequel will show, Charles’ numerous and ill-assorted possessions and
claims led to difficulties, before which at last he succumbed.
| War inevitable.
That the election of Charles V. would lead to war was almost
inevitable. The fears of the French were not unnaturally aroused by
the union of the Hapsburg and Spanish claims in his person, while
the personal vanity of Francis had received a deadly affront by the
election of his rival to the Empire.
| Charles wishes to put off the war.
Under these circumstances, it was not difficult to find occasions of
quarrel. The terms of the treaty of Noyon (1516) (cf. p. 83), had not
been carried out on either side. Francis could complain that Spanish
Navarre had never been restored to Henry d’Albret, while Charles
asserted that Milan belonged to him, as an imperial fief, and demanded
the restoration of the Duchy of Burgundy as part of his Burgundian
inheritance. Nevertheless, it was clearly to the advantage of Charles
that the war should be postponed. Now, as throughout his reign, the
very extent of his dominions and the number of his titles were a
source of weakness. Spain, indignant at the rule of the Flemings, was
on the point of rebellion; Germany, which Charles had not yet visited
since his election, for he was still in Spain, was annoyed at his
continued absence; the Diet had to be reckoned with; and the question
of ‘the little monk Luther’ demanded immediate attention.
Francis on the contrary, with less extravagant pretensions, was
master of a consolidated kingdom. He enjoyed a prerogative far less
controlled, more especially with regard to the finances and the army,
than his rival. He held the central position, and, as long as he
retained Milan, cut off the Emperor from all communication by land
between his German and Italian territories. Under these circumstances
Chièvres was probably right, apart from the particular interests of
the Netherlands, in wishing, at least, to postpone the commencement of
hostilities. France, on the other hand, should have begun the war at
once. But the treasury had been exhausted by the extravagance of the
King, by the expenses incurred in the last war, and in the canvass for
the Empire, and the addition of fresh imposts would cause discontent.
Above all it was thought desirable, if possible, first to secure
the alliance, or at least the neutrality, of England. Charles, too,
realised the importance of English aid; and the two rivals were so
evenly matched that an opportunity, such as had never occurred before,
was opened to England to hold the tongue of the balance.
| Attempt of Wolsey to keep the peace.
The opportunity was eagerly seized by Wolsey. To continue friends
with both sides without offending either; to keep both asunder by
fostering mutual suspicion; to prevent either from declaring war lest
the aggressor might find England arrayed against him, and thereby to
prevent if possible, if not to delay, the outbreak of hostilities;
meanwhile, to gain for England the proud position of arbiter of
Europe--this was the aim of Wolsey, a policy which for nigh two years
met with such success that the two most powerful monarchs of Europe
became the humble suitors of the Cardinal and his master.
In May, 1520, Charles hurried from Spain to meet Henry VIII. at
Sandwich, an act of condescension on the Emperor’s part which excited
the astonishment of Europe. Immediately afterwards (June 7), followed
the interview between Henry and Francis at the ‘Field of the Cloth
of Gold,’ near Guisnes in the Pale of Calais--again, be it noted, on
English ground. The importance attached to this famous interview is
not only attested by the magnificence of the display, by the feats of
arms in which even the kings themselves took part to the discomfiture
of Francis, but by the attention it received from the artists and the
writers of the day. Thence Henry VIII. passed to a second interview
with Charles at Gravelines (July 10). The actual results of these
meetings are doubtful;[42] but it is probable that Wolsey declined any
definite agreements, since his policy was to avoid declaring himself
on either side.
Thus the negotiations dragged on, much to the indignation of the Pope,
Leo X., who had made treaties with both, yet was anxious that war
should begin without delay in order that he might see who was likely
to prove the winner before he compromised himself too far.
| The diplomacy of Wolsey fails to avert the struggle.
At the close of the year 1520, however, the diplomacy of Wolsey
began to break down. Francis determined to take the offensive, and
accused Wolsey of betraying his secret to the Pope; while Charles,
who had long been hesitating whether to carry out the proposed
match with Mary of England, or to marry the Infanta of Portugal,
attempted to implicate Henry in a war with France and demanded that
he should fulfil his promises. Wolsey, however, was not thus to be
entrapped, and recalled Tunstal, his agent at the Emperor’s court. Yet
Charles was in no position to declare war, and the actual outbreak of
hostilities was accordingly postponed till 1521.
Meanwhile the troubles in Spain, the difficulties with the Diet, and
the question of the condemnation of Luther, demanded the attention of
the Emperor.
§ 2. _The Revolt of the Comuneros_
| Discontent in Spain.
The troubles in Spain had commenced immediately on the death of
Ferdinand. In spite of the temporary success which had accompanied the
policy of that King and his consort, the work of consolidation was by
no means complete. Not only were the kingdoms of Castile and Aragon
independent of each other, but even Valencia and Catalonia, although
dependencies of Aragon, had their separate Cortes and characteristic
institutions. This outward variety of constitutional machinery was but
the symbol of deep and essential differences--differences which were
the outcome of the physical peculiarities of the various countries,
their racial differences, and their past history. The rivalries
between Castile and Aragon were of old standing, and no sharper
contrast is to be found in Europe than that which existed between the
primitive and poverty-stricken population of the Asturias, the proud
Castilian noble, and the busy trader of Barcelona, the democratic
capital of Catalonia. Nor was there more unity within the separate
kingdoms themselves. The social divisions were deepest in Castile.
There the nobles enjoyed numerous exclusive privileges, notably that
of freedom from taxation. The revenues derived from their wide domains
were so great as to exceed in several instances those of the crown
itself. Living in proud isolation, they despised the burghers of the
towns and their struggles for the constitutional rights of the Cortes,
the meetings of which they themselves had long ceased to attend.
| The discontent reaches its climax on the accession of
| Charles, especially in Castile.
In Aragon the nobles were less isolated. They were still represented
in the Cortes, and joined with the deputies of the clergy and the
towns in common defence of their political rights. Even here, however,
the social cleavages were deep, while in Valencia things were nearly
as bad as in Castile. But if Spain was the victim of national and
class jealousies and divisions, she was not on that account less
tenacious of her privileges, and the change of rulers gave her an
opportunity of reasserting them. When therefore Charles came to
Spain a year after his grandfather’s death (1517), he had met with
considerable opposition. The Cortes of Aragon only consented to
acknowledge him as King in conjunction with his mother after he had
sworn to confirm their liberties, and in Catalonia and Valencia he met
with similar difficulties.
Meanwhile, in Castile matters were even worse. The Castilians had
been irritated by the rule of the Fleming, Chièvres--the ‘goat’
as they called him in allusion to his name--who had administered
affairs till Charles came to Spain. When their new King did arrive
he hurt their pride by his ignorance of their language, excited the
indignation of many by his heartless treatment of Ximenes, who was
rewarded for his faithful services by being dismissed to his diocese
to die (November 17), and alienated all by conferring the dignities
which had been held by the Cardinal upon his hated Flemings. The
see of Toledo was given to the Bishop of Tournay, the nephew of
Chièvres; and Sauvage, another Fleming, succeeded him in his office
of Chancellor of Castile. Accordingly the Cortes of Valladolid, in
1518, while acknowledging Charles and his mother as co-rulers, and
voting him a ‘servicio’ or money grant, for two years, demanded that
no foreigners should be given office; that no gold, silver, or horses
should be exported from Spain; that Charles should speedily marry;
and that his brother Ferdinand should act as his representative
until he should have children. These demands, if ever granted, were
not complied with. Meanwhile, the imperial election increased their
apprehensions. The Emperor, they said, would rarely be in Spain, and
they would have to pay the expenses of the honour as they had of the
election. Charles, anxious to leave Spain to meet Henry VIII. at
Sandwich, and to be crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle (Aachen), consented to
call another meeting of the Cortes before leaving the country. He,
however, avoided the larger towns on account of their disaffection,
and summoned it to Santiago (March 31), in Galicia, and subsequently
(April 25) transferred it to Corunna that he might be near his ships.
Here he extorted a sum of money by promises to return again in three
years, on the faith of a King, to appoint no foreigners to office, and
to spend the ‘servicio’ only in the interests of Castile. The Cortes,
however, was by no means a full one; the deputies of Salamanca had
been excluded, and some, such as Toledo, had refused to send any. Even
so, the vote was only carried by a narrow majority.
| Toledo rises. April 21, 1520.
The city of Toledo had special cause for indignation. The appointment
of Chièvres’ nephew as Archbishop had been looked upon as a special
insult, and the envoys sent to remonstrate with Charles, had been
refused an audience. The citizens therefore rose, headed by two
nobles, Don Pedro Laso de la Vega, and Don Juan de Padilla, son of the
Commendador or Governor of Leon, whose intrepid wife had forced him
into a career for which he was ill fitted. They seized the government
in the name of the king and queen, drove the royal Corregidor from the
town, and formed a ‘Communidad’ of deputies from the parishes of the
city (April 21).
Charles was now to experience for the first time, but not the
last, the conflict of those jarring interests which resulted from
his anomalous position. As King of Spain, his presence there was
imperatively needed, yet his European interests necessitated his
departure. Henry VIII. had promised to meet Francis in May or early
in June, and, if the conference at Sandwich was not to be abandoned
(cf. p. 136), no time was to be lost. Accordingly, on the 19th of May,
he left Spain almost as a fugitive, having appointed Adrian, his old
tutor, regent in Castile, Don Juan de Lanuza, viceroy in Aragon, and
Don Diego de Mendoza, in Valencia.
| Charles’ departure from Spain, May 19, is followed by the
| revolt of Castile.
| The Junta set up Joanna. August, 1520.
| The Junta present their Charter.
The departure of the King only served to increase the discontent. The
Spaniards felt that henceforth their country would no longer be the
centre of his interests, but only a province of his wider Empire. The
revolt therefore spread rapidly. At Segovia the deputy who had voted
for the ‘servicio’ was murdered. Salamanca, Zamora, Madrid, Burgos,
and many other towns rose; and finally Valladolid, then the seat of
government, took up arms. Meanwhile, in Valencia, a social war was
raging between the nobles and the commons, although the disturbances
there had no connection with those in Castile. At the end of July,
the movements in Castile, hitherto isolated, coalesced under the
leadership of the citizens of Toledo, and a ‘Junta’ of deputies
from the insurgent towns was formed at Avila. In August, Padilla,
marching on Tordesillas, not far from Valladolid, seized Charles’
mother, Joanna, who was now completely imbecile, and established the
revolutionary government in her name. With this formidable revolt,
Adrian was quite unable to cope; he had been left without adequate
resources in troops or money, and had not even been intrusted with
full powers. After a fruitless attempt to quell the rebellion, he fled
to Medina de Rio Seco, and hastily wrote to Charles demanding his
own recall, and urging him to come quickly or Spain would be lost.
Charles, however, was in no position to comply with his request, or
to send reinforcements. He therefore bade Adrian temporise. He was to
summon a Cortes, to offer to abandon the ‘servicio’ and promise to
govern Spain according to the ancient laws; yet in no way to touch
the prerogatives of the crown. At the same time, Charles appointed
Don Fadrique Henriques, the High Admiral, and Don Inigo de Velasco,
the High Constable of Castile, as co-regents, hoping by this act
to gain the support of the nobles. Meanwhile the ‘Junta,’ after
vainly attempting to prove Joanna sane, and to put her on the throne,
proceeded to draw up a charter of their liberties. They called upon
Charles to return to Spain, to marry the Infanta of Portugal, to
reduce his expenses, and to live like his forefathers, and passed the
following decrees. No foreigner was again to hold office; the taxes
were to be reduced, and the exemptions of the nobility abolished;
the crown lands, which had been alienated, were to be resumed, and
future alienations were declared illegal; finally a Cortes, fully
representative of the three orders of nobles, clergy, and burghers,
was to meet once in every three years. These decrees were declared to
be fundamental laws, which could never be revoked by King or Cortes,
and Charles’ acceptance of them was made the condition of his return.
| The nobles declare against the rebels.
Hitherto the nobles had displayed extraordinary apathy. They had
been irritated at the policy of Ferdinand and Isabella, and if, with
few exceptions, they had not taken any active part in the rebellion,
they had given Adrian no assistance. But now their fears began to
be aroused; some of these decrees touched their privileges, and the
movement in Castile threatened to follow that of Valencia, and to
assume the character of a social revolt. Moreover, the appointment of
two of their number as co-regents indicated a change in the policy
of the government, and had done something to conciliate them. The
hostility of the nobles once awakened, the position of the ‘comuneros’
became critical, and their chances of success were further jeopardised
by the internal dissensions which now broke out.
| Jealousies weaken the rebels’ cause.
| Renewed vigour of the comuneros. March, 1521.
The citizens of Burgos, the capital of Old Castile, became jealous
at the leading part assumed by Toledo, the capital of New Castile,
while Pedro Laso, the President of the Junta, who represented the more
moderate party, was opposed to the more extreme views of Padilla.
The Regents, seizing the opportunity, managed to detach Burgos from
the Junta (October 1520), and in December, the Count de Haro, son of
the Constable, retook Tordesillas and gained possession of Joanna.
Yet in spite of these successes the danger was by no means over.
The nobles showed their want of union, and even the Constable and
the Admiral quarrelled. The rebels, on the other hand, received the
valuable support, not only of the Count de Salvatierra, a powerful
noble of the north, but also of Acuña, the Bishop of Zamora. This
clever and ambitious ecclesiastic attempted to give to the movement
a wider significance, and to establish a democracy, while he hoped
to gain for himself the Archbishopric of Toledo, just vacant by the
death of the nephew of Chièvres. In these designs he obtained the
support of Francis, and even the neutrality of the Pope. Inspired by
these notable additions to their party, the ‘communeros’ displayed
renewed vigour. Padilla, marching on the town of Torrelobaton near
Valladolid, took it and put it to the sack (March 3, 1521); and the
city of Burgos, enraged at the refusal of the royalists to confirm
their promises, again took up arms. Once more the King’s cause seemed
to be lost. The rebels had a short time before refused the concessions
offered them by his Regents, and determined to win all or lose all.
Charles therefore fell back upon his previous policy of letting
things take their course, while he refused to surrender a jot of his
prerogative.
| Failure of the rebellion.
| They are defeated at Villalar. April 23, 1521.
This policy of obstinate inactivity met with a success it did not
deserve. It is the common fate of all rebellions, when not guided by
leaders of strong individuality, to fall to pieces of themselves.
This now happened in Spain. The leaders of the revolt were men of
no real strength. Padilla was an unpractical enthusiast, and the
Bishop of Zamora a dishonest, self-seeking man. There was a complete
absence of statesmanship or self-sacrifice. The Junta lost all
control. Pedro Laso, the President, disgusted at the turn things were
taking, began to waver, and was followed by many who feared that
anarchy would ensue. The nobles, at last thoroughly alarmed, laid
aside their quarrels, and showed a unanimity which, if displayed at
first, would have nipped the revolt in the bud. Finally, the Count de
Haro, reinforced by troops sent by the Count de Najera from Navarre,
advanced against the army of the ‘communeros,’ which since the fall
of Torrelobaton had remained idle. Meeting them on the plain of
Villalar, as they attempted to retreat to Toro, he won a decisive
victory. The rebels outnumbered, especially in cavalry, fled, leaving
their commander Padilla in the enemy’s hands. On the following day he
was executed. The defeat of Villalar, and the loss of their leader,
sufficed to end the matter. The Bishop of Zamora was seized as he
attempted to fly to France, and having murdered the governor of the
prison was hung. Town after town capitulated, and on April 27, 1521,
the viceregents entered Valladolid.
In Toledo, the first city to rise, Donna Maria Pacheco, the intrepid
widow of Padilla, still held out. But in October, finding it
impossible to keep the citizens in control, she fled to Portugal, and
the city and citadel opened their gates. Shortly afterwards the revolt
in Valencia was put down, chiefly by the nobles themselves.
| Causes of failure of the Revolt.
The cause of the failure of this serious revolt may be summed up in
one word--disunion. The rebellion had been confined to the kingdom
of Castile. Neither Aragon nor Catalonia had moved, and the rebels
of Valencia fought for their own cause and gave no support. Nor
were the ‘comuneros’ of Castile of one mind. They were divided in
their aims, and showed no power of concentrated action, while their
cause was further weakened by the incapacity and the jealousies of
their leaders. The prestige of the monarchy, enhanced as it had been
by the policy of Ferdinand and Isabella, was too great to be thus
overthrown. Indeed, but for the European difficulties of Charles, and
the lukewarmness of the nobles--an attitude which is largely to be
attributed to their discontent--the revolt would either never have
occurred, or would have been crushed out at once.
| Subsequent measures of Charles.
Charles did not come to Spain till the year 1522. A few of the rebels
were executed, the estates of others were confiscated. He then
summoned a Cortes in which he ordered that the ‘servicio’ should be
granted before grievances were heard, and forbade all discussion in
the absence of the President, who was to be his nominee. In future,
deputies were nominated by the government and frequently bribed; and
so valuable did a seat in the Cortes become, that in 1534 we find a
deputy giving 14,000 ducats for his seat. The nobles, still insisting
on their privilege of exemption from taxation, continued to be
excluded from the Cortes, and rapidly lost all political influence.
After the decline of the military power in Spain, the higher nobility,
the ‘ricos hombres,’ relapsed into luxurious idleness; the lower
nobility, ‘the hidalgos,’ and the knights or ‘caballeros,’ pressed
into the service of the Crown, and became its creatures, while the
commoners sought for titles of nobility that they might share the
emoluments of office, and enjoy the other privileges of nobility. Nor
was the Church more independent. The Crown made use of its power of
nominating to benefices, filled them with its adherents, and kept it
in a condition of servility. The Inquisition, however, was the most
efficient weapon in the hands of the Crown. It was entirely under the
King’s control; the property of the condemned fell to the Crown, and
no subject, cleric or lay, was free from its jurisdiction. Charles
did not indeed directly tamper with the constitution of Castile, and
was even more cautious in his treatment of Aragon. The meetings of
the Cortes still continued, nor did Charles refuse to listen to their
petitions. Nevertheless, the power of the bureaucracy of the Crown
increased, and Spain, exhausted by the wars of Charles, was being
prepared for the despotism of Philip.[43]
§ 3. _The Diet of Worms, 1521._
| The Diet of Worms. Jan. 1521.
Charles had been forced to let the revolt of the ‘comuneros’ in
Spain run its course because of the serious problems in which he
was involved by his position as an Austrian Prince and as Emperor.
After his interview with Henry VIII. at Gravelines in the beginning
of July, he had passed on to Germany to be crowned. Partly owing
to need of money, partly because of an outbreak of the plague at
Aix-la-Chapelle (Aachen), this was delayed till October, and it was
not till the following January, 1521, that he met his first Diet at
Worms. Meanwhile he had settled the fate of the Austrian dominions.
He had at first thought of keeping at least a portion of these lands
in his own hands. Finally, however, while retaining the Netherlands
and Franche-Comté, he granted to his brother Ferdinand the whole
of the hereditary Austrian lands; to which were added the claims on
Hungary and Bohemia, based on Ferdinand’s marriage with the Princess
Anne. Thus Spain and Austria, which had been in Charles’ hands for two
years, were once more divided, never to be again united. The questions
which came before this important Diet were mainly three:
(1) The settlement of the Imperial Constitution.
(2) The war with France.
(3) The attitude to be adopted towards Luther.
1. The question of the reform of the Imperial Constitution revived
those controversies, of which we have treated in speaking of
Maximilian, and with very similar results. Charles had promised
in his ‘Capitulations’ (p. 133) that the Council of Regency
(_Reichsregiment_) which had existed for two brief years, 1500-1502,
should be restored. But here, once more, the old controversies
reappeared. The Electors wished that the Council should constitute the
supreme administrative body in home and foreign affairs, even when
Charles was present in Germany, and that its members should be elected
by the States with the sole exception of the President, who was to
be nominated by the Emperor. Charles, however, was fully determined
to protect his imperial prerogatives. His views as to the imperial
office were, if possible, more exalted than those of his grandfather.
In his opening speech on the 28th of January, the day consecrated to
the memory of Charles the Great, he declared that ‘no monarchy was
comparable to the Roman Empire. This the whole world had once obeyed,
and Christ Himself had paid it honour and allegiance. Unfortunately
it was now only a shadow of what it had been, but he hoped with
the help of those powerful countries and alliances which God had
granted him, to raise it to its ancient glory.’ ‘My will,’ he said
subsequently, ‘is not that there should be many, but one master, as
befits the traditions of the Roman Empire.’ Yet the needs of Charles
were great, and had the Diet been of one mind it might have forced
its views upon him. The old jealousies, however, still existed, and
Charles, by playing upon these, was able to make it abate something
of its demands. It was accordingly agreed that the Emperor should
nominate, not only the President, but two assessors. Of the other
twenty members, the seven Electors were each to send one delegate; the
six Circles, with Austria and the Netherlands, one apiece. From the
imperial towns two more were to come, while one Elector in rotation,
one temporal and one spiritual Prince, were always to have a seat.
The Council, thus constituted, was to have the initiative in the
negotiation of foreign alliances, and in settling feudal questions,
subject, however, to the confirmation of the Emperor. Its powers, for
the present at least, were only to continue during Charles’ absence.
At the same time, the Imperial Chamber (_Reichskammergericht_) was
slightly altered. The Emperor was to nominate the President and two
assessors. The others were to be elected by the Electors and the
Circles, while two were to represent the hereditary dominions of the
House of Hapsburg. The most difficult question yet remained. How were
the members of these bodies to be paid? If no permanent revenue were
established, continuity would be impossible, and if the Emperor were
to pay them, the real control would lie with him. Accordingly, the old
controversies began again. The plan of the Common Penny having failed
(p. 111), the novel idea of establishing a system of custom-duties
on all imports coming into the Empire was suggested. Had this been
carried, a kind of customs-union (_Zollverein_) would have been set
on foot which might in time have led the way to a closer political
union. It was, however, violently opposed by the towns and merchants,
who declared that the burden would fall on them and ruin trade; and,
accordingly, the Diet fell back on the system of the ‘matricula’ of
1507 (cf. p. 114).
2. Difficulties also arose on the question of the army. The war with
France had already been commenced by the invasion of Spanish Navarre
by the French, and by the attack of Robert de la Marck, the Lord of
Bouillon, on Luxembourg. Charles also was eager to enter Italy that
he might put it to the arbitrament of war, ‘whether he should become
a very poor Emperor, or Francis a sorry King.’ Yet all the Diet would
provide was a levy of some 4000 cavalry and 20,000 infantry, levied on
the separate states according to the system of the ‘matricula.’ It was
further decreed that each contingent should be under its own officers,
and that the commander-in-chief, though appointed by the Emperor, must
be a German. This ‘matricula’ or imperial roll was the last ever drawn
up, and thus became the model for future imperial levies. From 1535
onwards, the system was gradually adopted of substituting for the men
themselves the money necessary to pay the contingent--the money being
assessed on the separate States, according to their liability on the
roll of 1521. The grants were termed ‘Roman Months,’ because they
originated with the vote for the Roman expedition of 1521.
In these constitutional struggles, Charles had obtained something. He
had at least succeeded in retaining more control over the Council of
Regency and the Imperial Chamber than his grandfather had enjoyed. Yet
the Diet had gained much. It had now a real share in the executive and
judicial administration of the Empire, and Charles would be more often
absent than present. For the rest, as before, the reforms were mainly
in the interest of the Electors and more powerful Princes. The towns,
though represented in the Council, could easily be outvoted, and had
failed, in spite of urgent protests, to secure any delegates in the
Imperial Chamber. Devoid of popular support, the Imperial Chamber
failed to enforce its judicial authority, while the next few years
were to prove conclusively that the Council was powerless to maintain
order.
3. The last question--that of the attitude of the Diet towards
Luther--was to prove a far more serious question than any one at that
time dreamt of--a question which was to affect deeply the future
history not only of the Empire, but of Europe.
| The Renaissance and the Reformation.
The Reformation was the outcome of two forces, independent in origin,
and never wholly in agreement: the Renaissance, and the desire for
reform in dogma and practice. Of these, the first owes its birth to
Italy. The Italians, despairing of political unity or stability,
yet excelling other people in material prosperity and comfort,
betook themselves to the study of the past for which their unbroken
connection with the language and memories of Rome well fitted them.
The movement, beginning in the earlier decades of the fifteenth
century, had made rapid strides before it closed, and was many-sided.
In art, it was marked by a return to the study of the antique; in
literature, by a fresh taste for prose and poetry, founded on classic
models; in scholarship, it was accompanied by the discovery of ancient
manuscripts, and the revival of criticism; in philosophy, it led to
a revival of the knowledge of Plato; in natural science, to a more
critical inquiry into the nature of the earth and its relation to the
system of the universe.
But the principles which underlay and actuated these different
energies were the same. Mediæval thought had striven to sacrifice
the individual. It had taught men to crucify the body with its
fleshly lusts, to check the rebellious passion for independence and
individuality. It had bidden men accept without question the authority
of the Church, and of the temporal power. The new spirit revolted
from all these doctrines. It preached the dignity of man, and of this
life. It questioned the virtue of asceticism, and lusted after the
world in thought and deed. It proclaimed the right of the individual
to think, and feel, and shape his creed according to the dictates
of reason. It inculcated the lessons of inquiry, of criticism, of
naturalism. Thus a new paradise was opened to the imagination, and
men rushed headlong into it with a pleasing sense of freedom. There
was much that was valuable, and indeed necessary to progress, in this
movement of emancipation. It led to more accurate observation, to
more careful criticism, to greater regard for literature, and to the
triumph of individualism. Nevertheless, it had its darker side. It was
accompanied by much riot and licence. The sensuous delight in form and
colour betrayed some into sensuality; the undue devotion to things of
this world led to a mundane pagan spirit; criticism, to scepticism and
infidelity. The atmosphere of the Renaissance was indeed inimical to
that of the Christian life, yet, with a few exceptions, the Italians
made no direct attack upon the Church. The literary men were well
content to leave an institution alone, which was so closely wrapped
up with their past traditions and with the general culture of the
day, and which so conveniently patronised them, and even tolerated
their satires, so long as they left her government and her dogmas
alone. With the philosophers it was different. Yet even they assailed
Christianity rather than the Church; and if Ficino tried to reconcile
Christianity and Platonism, or Pomponazzi questioned the immortality
of the soul, these scholars affected to distinguish between science
and religion, and while they speculated as philosophers, professed to
believe as Christians. Thus there is hardly any humanist of Italy, if
we except Laurentius Valla, who attacked the claims of the Pope to
interfere in temporal affairs, or the tradition that the Apostles’
Creed was the work of the apostles; and even he, for the sake of papal
protection, easily retracted his errors.
For the rest, the Italian humanists were scarcely serious enough
to undertake a reformation of the Church. Their temper, if not
anti-religious, was irreligious, and their lives, with few exceptions,
as loose as those of the churchmen whom they lampooned. Reformers
there were indeed in Italy, but these had no connection with the
humanists. They were men of the type of Savonarola, whose sole idea of
reform was one of morals and of life, and who had no quarrel with the
dogmas, or the organisation of the Church.
No sooner did the Renaissance cross the Alps than, in the hands of
the more earnest-minded Germans, it became more serious and more
theological, less philosophical and more dogmatic. Criticism they now
applied to the Church, and in another sense to the Bible, with the
intention not of destroying Christianity but of restoring it to its
primitive purity.
| Reuchlin and Erasmus.
Among numerous scholars who rose in Germany at the close of the
fifteenth century, the two most characteristic representatives of the
age were John Reuchlin (1455-1522) and Desiderius Erasmus (1467-1536).
Reuchlin is chiefly noticeable for his revival of the study of
Hebrew, a study which he applied to the criticism of the Vulgate,
and for his attempt to save the Jewish writings from indiscriminate
destruction at the hands of the bigoted Dominican Hochstraten.
Although a philologist, rather than a theologian, he may yet be called
the father of Old Testament criticism, and during the struggle over
the Jewish literature, the conflict between the old and new ideas is
strongly emphasised.
But the most famous child of the German revival is Erasmus. Educated
at the school of Deventer, a school which owed its origin to the
Brethren of the Common Life, he was, at the date of the Diet of
Worms, looked upon as the greatest scholar of his age, and enjoyed a
reputation such as probably has never been equalled since. If Reuchlin
may be called the father of Old Testament criticism, Erasmus may
be termed the father of New Testament criticism, and of scientific
theology. In 1505, he republished Valla’s notes on the New Testament,
the solitary piece of biblical criticism which had come from Italy.
This was followed, in 1516, by his Greek edition of the New Testament,
with a Latin translation and notes. The aim of these works was to
revive the knowledge of the original, and by the collation of such
MSS. as were procurable, to furnish as correct a version as possible
of the text. In the notes, Erasmus applied the canons of ordinary
criticism to the New Testament, and thereby laid the foundations
of modern biblical scholarship. The aim of his third work, the
_Enchiridion Militis Christi_, may be gathered from a letter to his
friend Colet, Dean of St. Paul’s: ‘I write,’ he says, ‘to remedy the
error which makes religion depend on ceremonies and on observance of
bodily acts, while neglecting true piety.’ With these views Erasmus
was naturally a severe critic of the existing state of things. He
lamented the ignorance of many churchmen who dreaded the new learning
without understanding it; who went so far as to denounce Hebrew and
Greek as heretical because they were not the language of the Vulgate,
and whose bigotry had just been so conspicuously displayed in the
Reuchlin controversy. He despised the idleness of the monks, and the
intolerable narrowness of the scholastic pedants, with their barren
disputations and endless hair-splittings. He denounced the folly of
that Church which insisted on every tittle of outward ceremony and
dogma, and yet neglected practical piety. These were the objects of
his satirical pen in his _Praise of Folly_, which was written in
England in 1509. In this wonderful satire, Folly, declaring herself
the real source of happiness, represents herself as the authoress of
all the superstition, the pedantry, the idleness, the hypocrisy, which
were so prosperous in the world.
Nor was the satire of Erasmus the only one which appeared at this
time. The _Ship of Fools_ by Sebastian Brandt in 1494, and the
more famous _Epistolæ Obscurorum Virorum_, which arose out of the
Reuchlin controversy, deal with much the same evils, though without
the literary refinement of the northern scholar; while the _Ship of
Fools_ is specially noticeable as having been originally written in
German, and therefore written for the people, not to the scholars.
But although these and other writings indicate how deeply Germany was
stirred by the corruptions of the Church, and although they had done
much to prepare the way, there was as yet no idea of breaking away
from her. Men still looked to internal reform by Council, or if not,
by some other method.
It has been usual to accuse Erasmus of half-heartedness in the cause
of religion, of carelessness in his private life, and of time-serving
in his public conduct. There is certainly some truth in this attack,
and assuredly he was not the man to raise the standard of avowed
rebellion. As he himself confessed, he was not of the stuff of which
martyrs were made. He was a scholar who loved peace, and had nothing
of the religious enthusiast about him. But quite apart from his
character, his whole intellectual position was incompatible with
that of the Reformation, as the Protestants understand the meaning
of the word. Erasmus belongs to that school of broad churchmen, who
did not believe that the cure for the evils afoot was to be found
in the assertion of new dogmas. In their view, too much dogma was
insisted upon already. Much was at least not comprehensible to the
multitude, and, if to be altered, should be altered by the slow
dissolvent of learned criticism. Reform with them meant a gradual
autumnal change, which might take place without violently breaking
with the past, while the moral principles acknowledged by all should
be enforced, and made more real. In short, Erasmus is the father of
modern latitudinarianism, as well as of biblical criticism. His whole
nature shrank from more violent methods, and he feared their results.
He foresaw the extravagances, the controversies, and the schisms which
would inevitably follow, and delay the triumph of rational theology.
The Reformation of the sixteenth century could not be guided by him;
but, as it has been well said, perhaps the Reformation that is to come
will trace itself back to Erasmus.
| Martin Luther, 1483-1546.
The final breach with Rome was not to come from scholars of world-wide
reputation, but from the son of a Thuringian peasant who, although of
robust mind, was an indifferent Greek scholar, and knew no Hebrew. In
dealing with Martin Luther it is of importance to remember the various
steps in his career.
Driven by the consciousness of sin and the desire of spiritual
peace he had, at the age of twenty-two, entered the Order of the
Augustinian Friars at Erfurt, much against the wish of his father
(1505). Here he subjected himself to the severest discipline, but
without avail. ‘If ever a monk had got to heaven by monkery, I should
have been he,’ he said subsequently; ‘for all that a monk could do, I
did.’ Repeated acts of penance did not save him from new temptations,
and God remained in his eyes an inexorable judge, demanding obedience
to an impossible law. From this condition of despair, Luther was
delivered by Staupitz, the Vicar-General of his Order, who counselled
a closer study of the Bible, especially of the writings of St. Paul,
and of the Latin father, St. Augustine. Here, in the Augustinian
doctrine of justification by faith, he at last found peace; in the
text, ‘The just shall live by faith,’ appeared the solution of his
difficulties. The sinner was not to be saved by his own efforts or
work, but by throwing himself unreservedly on the mercies of a loving
God; thus received into a state of grace, the faithful believer found
penitence no longer painful, but a spontaneous act of love, while work
and life for God alone became easy. In this view he was strengthened
at a later date by discovering that the Greek word for _penitentia_
was μετάνοια--in other words, that the efficacy of penance did not
consist in the external ecclesiastical penalty, but in the inward
change of heart. In thus asserting the Augustinian doctrine of
justification by faith, Luther was only reviving what had been held by
many Fathers of the early Church--a doctrine which had indeed of late
been overclouded by the contrary one of the justification by works,
but which had never been wholly discarded. It is no doubt true that
these opposing and contradictory dogmas are incapable of entire
reconciliation, nor must either of them be forced to their logical
conclusion, for if we are justified by God’s grace alone, where is the
necessity for works; and if by works alone we are saved, where is the
need for a Redeemer? No doubt, once more, the doctrine of the
justification by faith is, if it be carried to an extreme, apt to
lead, and has in fact led, to fanatical fatalism and antinomianism. To
Luther, however, it seemed that the evils which followed on the
adoption of the contrary doctrine were worse; as if frail men could by
their unaided efforts extort salvation from the Almighty. To hold this
view was to nurse that very spiritual pride which was the cause of the
existing corruption. The only hope for moral reformation lay in
bringing man to believe in his utter unworthiness in the sight of God;
thus alone could he attain that spirit of humility which was the
essential preliminary to a godly life.
In 1508, Luther was summoned by Staupitz to teach at the university of
Wittenberg, just founded by Frederick the Wise of Saxony. In 1510, he
visited Rome, a visit which only served to strengthen him in his
conviction that spiritual pride, the characteristic fault of the
Renaissance, was the enemy to be withstood, and to deepen his dislike
of those ceremonial observances of the Church which consecrated the
belief in the efficacy of works. Luther had returned to Wittenberg to
carry on his teaching, when the visit of Tetzel, a Dominican, to
Germany, offering papal indulgences to those who would contribute
money to the building of St. Peter’s at Rome, aroused him to immediate
action. The doctrine of indulgences originated in the not unnatural
view, that while penitence reconciled the sinner to God, the wrong
done to man had yet to be punished, and that the punishment, like that
for worldly offences, could be commuted by a fine. But the system had
been shamefully abused. The Church declared that she held, in the
works of supererogation of the faithful, a treasure from which she
could draw for the remission of penalties, and, in her eager desire to
gain money, granted indulgences carelessly and without insisting on
the previous penitence of the offender. She even claimed the power of
remitting the punishment of those in purgatory. Whatever may be said
in defence of the primitive system of indulgences, it cannot be denied
that in their exaggerated form they led to grievous abuse, and
involved a flat denial of the necessity of grace. Accordingly Luther,
in pursuance of academic custom, nailed on the door of the church at
Wittenberg his famous ninety-five theses, in which he controverted the
theory of indulgences, and challenged all comers to disprove the
correctness of his statements (October 17, 1517).
The views of Luther were not original. Several theologians before him,
even Cardinal Ximenes himself, had protested against the scandalous
abuse of indulgences. Nor did Luther dream of rebelling against
Mother Church. He did not deny the value of indulgences altogether,
but declared that, in his opinion, the Pope could not thereby remit
the guilt of sin nor abate the penalties of those who had already
passed to their account. Further, he declared that the extravagant
views he was combating were the invention of the schoolmen, not of the
Church, which had never formally accepted them. He therefore demanded
an expression of the mind of the Pope and Church thereon. Luther
asked for discussion and for argument; he was met with assertion and
denunciation. Tetzel in his answer disdained to discuss the question
of indulgences at all, and he asserted the claim of the Pope to
determine matters of opinion and to interpret Scripture. The Dominican
Prierias declared that neither a Council presided over by the Pope,
nor the Pope himself, could err when he gave an official decision,
and branded all those as heretics who did not accept the doctrines
of the Church and Popes, as the rule of faith. Cardinal Cajetan, who
was sent as papal legate to the Diet of Augsburg in 1518, although he
secretly agreed with Luther as to the abuse of indulgences, refused
all disputation, and demanded a recantation and silence for the
future. Luther’s subsequent promise to keep silence on his part, if
it were adhered to on the other, could not possibly be kept, and the
discussion soon broke out afresh.
Meanwhile, the ground of controversy had shifted. It was no longer
a question of indulgences, but of papal power and the authority of
tradition. The extravagant assertions of the papal advocates were met
by more outspoken, more violent, and sometimes by unseemly language
on the part of Luther. Wider reading now convinced him that his views
were not novel, but had been anticipated by others, such as John
Huss, John Wessel, and even by the humanist Laurentius Valla; while
he was strengthened by the increasing support he met with in Germany.
Ulrich von Hutten, a man whose love of satire outran his better taste,
embittered the controversy by the biting epigrams of his _Vadiscus_
(1519): ‘Three things maintain the dignity of Rome--the authority
of the Pope, the relics of the saints, the sale of indulgences.
Three things are feared at Rome--a General Council, a reform of the
Church, the opening of the eyes of the Germans. Three things are
excommunicated at Rome--indigence, the primitive Church, the preaching
of truth.’ Finally, Luther, in his _Address to the Christian Nobility
of the German Nation_ (July, 1520), still more in his tractate on the
_Babylonish Captivity_ (October, 1520), was led on not only to deny
the authority of the Pope, but to question the divine institution
of the priesthood, and the authority of tradition, and to attack
the mediæval doctrine of Transubstantiation. That Luther had now
definitely put himself outside the Church, cannot be gainsaid. Yet at
least it should be remembered that he was driven to his final position
by the knowledge that he was already condemned, and that the Bull of
excommunication had been issued as early as June 1520, although not
published in Germany till later. Luther, therefore, throwing all hopes
of conciliation to the winds, declared the Bull a forgery and the
author of it Antichrist, and on December 10, 1520, burnt it publicly
at Wittenberg.
Whether, considering the character of Luther, his earnestness, his
bluntness, his fearlessness, his want of scholarly refinement, and
his violence, he might have been checked by a more conciliatory
attitude on the part of his opponents; or whether, again, had he
been conciliated, another leader in the existing ferment of German
feeling would not have arisen, may well be questioned. But at least
the conduct of the papal court could not have been more indiscreet or
less statesmanlike. Leo X. himself, with his cynical indifference to
such matters, might very possibly have acted otherwise; but the attack
on indulgences threatened the whole machinery of papal finance and
administration, and the officials of the Curia drove him on. We cannot
but deplore that a Church, which could treat with leniency unorthodoxy
on such fundamental questions as the immortality of the soul, should
have refused to listen to the criticism of her system of indulgences,
especially as we know that the system, in its abuse at any rate,
pricked the consciences of so many of her most loyal sons. That the
conduct of Luther is open to blame must be allowed. That he too
lightly cast away the traditions of the Church, and too confidently
believed in the possibility of finding all that was necessary to
salvation, and for the organisation of the Church in the Bible alone;
that many of his doctrines have been exaggerated and have led to much
evil; that the immediate results of the Reformation were neither to
promote learning, nor to advance the spirit of toleration--all this
cannot be denied. That the revolt which was thus inaugurated was to
break the unity of the Church, to lead to endless schism, and verily
to bring a sword on earth, we must all regret. But Rome, at least,
determined that it should be so; and we may fairly doubt whether the
reform of that corruption, which had eaten so deeply into her system,
could have been effected at a less costly price.
| Luther and the Diet.
Such was the position of affairs when the Diet of Worms met. The
question was whether the Diet would enforce the Bull and place Luther
under the ban of the Empire--a question fraught with momentous
issues. Leo X., without allowing Luther to be heard in self-defence,
urged Charles to execute the Bull. But though the Emperor himself
was in favour of such a course, and was supported by his confessor
Glapion, many of his advisers, notably Chièvres, and Gattinara, his
chancellor, were of a contrary opinion. They knew the support which
Luther had already received in Germany from the poorer nobles, the
poets, the lawyers, and the men of letters, and what that support was
we may learn from the papal agent, Aleander: ‘Nine-tenths of Germany
shouts for Luther; and the other one-tenth, if it does not care for
Luther, at least cries, Down with the Roman court, and demands a
Council to be held in Germany.’ It was not to be expected that the
Diet would dare to disregard this popular feeling. Moreover, although
the majority were wholly opposed to the doctrinal views held by
Luther, many of its members sympathised with his desire for reform
in matters of Church government and discipline. The Diet, therefore,
demanded that Luther should be heard, declaring at the same time that,
if he persisted in his heretical views, contrary to the doctrine and
faith ‘which they, their fathers, and fathers’ fathers had held,’ they
were ready to condemn him. Besides all this, the advisers of Charles
were not blind to the political advantages which might be gained from
the situation. Maximilian had once said: ‘Let the Wittenberg monk be
taken good care of; we may want him some day,’--and the day had come.
Leo was still hesitating between the alliance of Charles and Francis,
and the threat of referring the whole question to a General Council
might be used to force his hand.
Luther was accordingly summoned to Worms under promise of a
safe-conduct. If now he had consented to retract his doctrines on
matters of faith, and had confined himself to the question of internal
reform, he would probably have received the hearty support of the
Diet. But this was far from his intention, and his uncompromising
conduct played for the moment into the hands of Rome. He had expected
that he would be asked for a defence of his opinions; he was ordered
to retract his heresies on points of doctrine. This he declined to
do. To the demand that he would acknowledge the Emperor and the Diet
as judges of his doctrines, he answered that he would not allow men
to judge of God’s word. He even refused to submit to the decisions
of a General Council ‘unless his views were refuted by Scripture or
by cogent reason.’ Thus he became in the eyes of Charles not only a
heretic, but, what was worse, a rebel; and the alliance of the Pope
having now been secretly secured, Luther was no longer wanted for
political purposes. Charles, therefore, was eager for the publication
of the ban and for an order that the books of the heretic should be
burnt. So great, however, was the repugnance of the Diet to face the
unpopularity of this act that Charles only succeeded in gaining its
assent at its last session (May 25), after Frederick of Saxony and the
Elector Palatine had left. Luther meanwhile had fled to the Castle
of the Wartburg in Saxony, where he lay hid under the protection
of Frederick the Wise. He had now been excommunicated, and the
excommunication had been ratified by the Diet. The future was to see
whether the Emperor could enforce the decision of the Diet in Germany.
§ 4. _The War_, 1522-1523.
| Leo X. and Henry VIII. ally themselves with Charles V.
At this moment the attention of Charles was directed to the war
against Francis. The humiliation of his rival, and the conquest of
Italy, were the first essentials; till these were attained, the affair
of Luther might wait. The French had been the first to assume the
offensive. Already, in May, they had invaded Navarre, while in the
previous March, Robert de la Marck, the Lord of Bouillon, had attacked
Luxembourg. These expeditions, however, had both failed, and Charles
now secured the alliance, not only of the vacillating Pope, but also
of Henry VIII. Leo X. had been gratified at the publication of the ban
against Luther. He convinced himself that the victory of the French
in Italy would be more disastrous than that of Charles, and on May 25
definitely joined the Emperor. Ferrara and Parma were to be restored
to the Pope. Milan was to be held as a fief of the Empire by Francesco
Sforza, son of Ludovico il Moro; the French were to be driven from
Genoa, and Antonio Adorno set up as Doge; the Emperor promised to
protect the Medici in Florence, and to join the Pope in extirpating
the heresy of Luther.
In November, Wolsey, after in vain attempting to continue his policy
of mediation at the Conference of Calais, was forced at last to
declare himself. He joined the league of Emperor and Pope, and
promised to aid Charles in a joint invasion of France: the Emperor, on
his part, engaged to marry the Princess Mary.
| Success of imperial and papal troops in Italy.
The English did not move; but in Italy the imperial and papal troops
were successful. Lautrec, the French commander, deserted by the Swiss,
who had been forbidden by the authorities at home to fight against
their countrymen, was forced to evacuate Milan, with the exception of
the citadel (November 19), and Parma and Piacenza soon surrendered.
| Death of Leo X. Dec. 1, 1521.
At this moment, when fortune seemed to smile on Leo X., he was struck
down by fever (December 1). The character of his pontificate is such
as we should expect from the son of Lorenzo the Magnificent. His name
will always be associated with the artistic triumphs of Raphael, and
remembered for his patronage of literature; but this is his only claim
to honour. His character is well illustrated by his saying at his
election, ‘Let us enjoy the Papacy now we have got it.’ Though not
profligate himself, he condoned profligacy in others, and at no time
was luxury more profuse, or life in Rome more careless. He lived for
pleasure; in the spiritual duties of his office he took but little
interest. The serious problems of the time he showed himself incapable
of realising. If his careless generosity brought him popularity, it
seriously encumbered the papal finances; and if, when he died, the
sky seemed fair, this was but the clearness which oft precedes the
storm--a storm which was largely due to his want of seriousness, of
insight, and of statesmanship.
| Election of Adrian VI. Jan. 1522.
To the surprise of all, the man chosen to succeed him was Adrian of
Utrecht, once the tutor of Charles, and subsequently his Viceroy in
Spain. His election was due to the impossibility of finding any one
else who could obtain sufficient suffrages in the electoral college.
Wolsey, who was a serious candidate, only secured seven. Giulio de’
Medici and Alexander Farnese, both eventually destined to wear the
tiara, as Clement VII. and Paul III., were equally unsuccessful.
A long vacancy was considered dangerous; and Cardinal de’ Medici,
who, in spite of the warm support of the Emperor, despaired of his
own success, transferred his votes to Adrian. Thus two Flemings,
hitherto closely associated, now held the two highest dignities in
Christendom, and much might have been expected from such a remarkable
event. These expectations, however, were not to be realised. The
new Pope, indeed, presented a striking contrast to his predecessor;
but this very contrast served but to increase his difficulties. The
Romans were annoyed at the election of ‘a barbarian.’ Their fears
that Adrian might transfer the seat of the Papacy to Spain, expressed
itself in the satirical advertisement, ‘Roma est locanda,’ posted
on the walls of the Vatican. The Cardinals, who at first went in
fear of their lives from the Roman populace, soon regretted their
decision, and hated this austere reforming Pope, who tried to cut
down their salaries and pensions, while he showed favour to his
Flemish followers. The literary men were disgusted at his lack of
sympathy with the new learning. Even his uprightness and holiness
of life failed to make him friends among those who desired reform.
His economies were attributed to parsimony; his retiring habits and
his want of real initiative and of character lost him that support
which otherwise might have been accorded to him. Nor was his attitude
towards Luther, or to the political issues of the day, more fortunate.
Fully convinced of the necessity of internal reform of abuses, he was
none the less devoid of sympathy with the new theology. As inquisitor
in Spain, he had adopted Spanish views, and thought that repression
must precede reform; when the heretic had been disposed of, the Pope
could begin to set his house in order.
| Causes of disagreement with Charles.
On this point the Emperor agreed with him, but here agreement ceased.
Adrian had served him well as tutor, and then as his viceroy in
Spain; and now that his servant sat on the papal throne, he looked
for a continuance of that service. He forgot that there was all the
difference between Adrian, the viceroy of the King of Spain, and
Adrian the Pope. Nor were their views the same. Charles was determined
to be master in Italy; for that, not only the Lutheran question,
but even the war against the Turk must wait, threatening though the
attitude of Solyman was at this moment. Adrian, on the contrary, was
not anxious to see the Emperor too powerful in Italy, and yearned to
free the Papacy from the political trammels in which late Popes had
involved it. To bring about a reconciliation between the two rivals,
and then rally all Christendom in a crusade against the Turk, this was
Adrian’s dream. For this purpose he assumed a position of neutrality
and attempted the work of mediation. The results of this policy were
most unfortunate. The French party in Italy raised their heads; the
Duke of Ferrara began to move (February, 1522); the opponents of the
Medici in Florence and Siena renewed their intrigues with Francis;
the Swiss again took service under France, and sent a contingent into
Italy, which was supplemented by Venice. So serious did things look,
that Don Manuel, writing from Rome, advised a truce with Francis.
| Battle of Bicocca. April 27, 1522.
| French evacuate the Milanese.
| Treaty of Windsor. June, 1522.
| The League of August 1523. Death of Adrian,
| Sept. 14, 1523.
At this moment, however, the victory of Bicocca retrieved the fortunes
of Charles. In March, Lautrec had advanced against Milan, then held
by Colonna for the Emperor. Sforza at once marched from Pavia to
relieve Colonna, and, after some manœuvring, entrenched himself in
the Villa Bicocca, some few miles from the city. The position was a
strong one. But the Swiss showed insubordination, and insisted on an
attack, which Lautrec dared not refuse. The Swiss had miscalculated
their powers, and were repulsed. Lautrec, who had made a detour with
his French soldiers, with the object of taking the position in the
rear, from whence alone an entrance seemed practicable, was delayed,
and had to face the united force of the enemy, flushed as they were
with victory over the Swiss. He was beaten back with serious loss, and
the imperial forces remained masters of the first important battle
of the war. The defeat ruined the French cause. They still held the
citadel of Milan, and the town of Novara, but had to evacuate the rest
of the Milanese, and shortly after (May 30), they were driven from
Genoa. The Doge, Ottavio Fregoso, the leader of the French party, was
taken prisoner, as well as Pedro Navarra, the great Spanish general,
who had been driven into the service of France by the niggardliness
of Ferdinand. Antonio Adorno was set up as Doge, as a vassal of
Charles--and France thus lost the important harbour which hitherto
had given her an easy entrance into Italy. The victory of Charles
only served to increase Adrian’s desire for peace, but neither of the
rivals would listen. In June, 1522, Charles, then on his way to Spain,
signed the treaty of Windsor. Henry and the Emperor agreed that the
humiliation of Francis was the necessary preliminary to a war against
the Turk. They accordingly promised to engage in a joint attack on
France, and to solicit the alliance of the Pope and Venice. Even the
fall of Rhodes, the important outpost against the Moslem, held by
the knights of St. John in the Mediterranean (December 20), although
it caused great dismay in Europe and bitter grief to Adrian, did not
cause the two great powers to forego their quarrels; and finally in
August, Adrian, warned by the intrigues of the French partisans in
Italy that any idea of mediation was vain, and that if the French
were victorious the Papal States would be in danger, joined in a
defensive league with the Emperor, a league which included England,
Milan, Genoa, Florence, and Venice. Six weeks afterwards, Adrian died
(September 14, 1523).
In spite of his narrowness and want of statesmanship, Adrian was a
good man, and earnestly desired reform. Yet the desire only earned
him the inveterate hatred of the Cardinals, and of the mob of Rome,
who decorated the door of his physician with a wreath, dedicated ‘to
the liberator of his country.’ The pathetic failure of Pope Adrian is
perhaps the best vindication of Luther’s revolt.
§ 5. _Luther and the Council of Regency._
| Charles in Spain for seven years, 1522-1529.
The absence of Charles in Spain, where he remained for seven momentous
years (July 1522 to August 1529), indicates most forcibly where his
real interests lay. Cruelly as he treated all those who had taken part
in the revolt of the Communeros, he had, since the death of Chièvres
in 1521, become a thorough Spaniard in sympathy. In that year, he
finally ceded to Ferdinand the Austrian lands of his House, and
henceforth looked on Spain as the real centre of his Empire. The pride
of the Spaniards, their determination to crush out heresy,--above all,
their passion to dominate the world, he fully shared; and it was on
Spanish troops and Spanish money that he mainly depended in his wars.
He passed the largest part of his life in Spain. He retired thither,
and there he died.
| Answer to the taunt of Napoleon.
In this fact then, and in his imperial position, lies the best answer
to Napoleon’s taunt that Charles was a fool not to have adopted
Protestantism and founded a strong monarchy on that basis. Whether
such a policy on Charles’ part would have succeeded, may well be
doubted. He would have found arrayed against him the majority of the
Electors and Princes, who, whatever their religious views, dreaded
above all things a strong monarchical rule; and our doubt will be
intensified if we remember the future policy of the Catholic League
during the Thirty Years’ War. But, however that may be, Napoleon did
not appreciate Charles’ character. As well might a leopard be bidden
change its spots, as Charles be asked to lead a national German
movement against all that Emperors, and Kings of Spain held dear.
| The possible alternatives for Germany.
To grasp the possible alternatives we have only to recall the
political condition of Germany, already described at pages 106 ff. We
there noticed four forces struggling for the mastery:--
1. The dynastic aims of the Hapsburgs, bent on establishing a
centralised monarchy.
2. The constitutional ideas of the Electors, aiming at an
aristocratic confederation.
3. The anarchical elements, represented by the constant private
warfare, and the social disturbances of the ‘Bundschuhe,’ or
peasants’ associations.
4. The desire for territorial independence, shared by most of the
Princes.
On the question which of these should finally gain the mastery, to
a great extent depended the fate of the Reformation in Germany. The
triumph of the first would, there can be little doubt, have led to
the extirpation of heresy, and the establishment of autocratical
rule, both ecclesiastical and civil. Could the second succeed, there
was some hope of a Protestant reformed Church, based upon a reformed
Empire, and a revived spirit of German nationality against Pope as
well as Emperor. The third, if not suppressed, or guided, would surely
lead to an outburst of religious fanaticism, and to religious as well
as political chaos. The last, which as we shall see was eventually to
prevail, established Protestantism on the principle of ‘cujus regio,
ejus religio,’--that is, of territorial independence in Church as well
as State.[44]
| The Council of Regency during Charles’ absence.
| Diet of Nuremberg, Nov. 1522.
The departure of Charles for Spain gave some hope that a reform of
the Church might go hand in hand with a reform of the Empire. In
his absence, power fell into the hands of the Council of Regency
under the presidency of Ferdinand, whom Charles had nominated his
Stadtholder. The Council included among its numbers some, who desired
to extend the political reforms already begun, and who were also not
unfavourable to Luther; while the orthodox party, although still in
the majority, were too much alarmed at the growing popularity of
Lutheran opinion to assume a decided attitude. In spite, therefore, of
the exhortation of Adrian that they would enforce the Edict of Worms,
the Council decided, after a stormy debate, to refer the matter to
the Diet, which met for its second session at Nuremberg on November
17. In the Diet, the struggle began again with like results. The
orthodox party still found themselves in the majority, but, with
the exception of Joachim, Elector of Brandenburg, the Archbishop of
Trèves, and George, Duke of Saxony, were unwilling to proceed to
active measures. The delegates from the imperial cities all supported
Luther. Nuremberg, where the Diet sat, was hotly in his favour, and
many of the lay Princes feared to oppose the sentiments of their
subjects. Accordingly, after much debate and reference to committees,
the Diet answered the Pope as follows: They regretted the confusion
caused by the Lutheran movement, but had refrained from enforcing
the edict for fear of civil war. The Pope himself had admitted the
existence of evils in the Church, and these must be amended. They
therefore asked that a free Christian Council--in which laymen as well
as ecclesiastics should be represented--should be summoned in Germany
to discuss grievances. Meanwhile, no further Lutheran books should be
printed, or sermons allowed, which might stir the people to revolt.
| The hundred Gravamina.
At the same time the lay estates presented their hundred ‘Gravamina,’
enumerating the chief papal abuses from which Germany had suffered. It
is not correct to say, as has been said, that the Diet had declared
for Luther, for he had been condemned to silence, and the Diet had
no intention of breaking from Rome; but the enforcement of the Edict
was delayed, and delay was all that his cause needed. His adherents
were increasing apace: as Ferdinand said, ‘There is not one man in a
thousand who is not more or less infected by Lutheran heresy,’ and
this explains the unwillingness of the Diet to proceed against him.
Indeed, had the Diet, and more especially the Council of Regency,
truly represented public opinion, the Reformation might have been
established on national lines. This was prevented by the constitution
of the Diet. Moreover, the respect of Germany for the Council had been
lost by its failure to put down the ‘Knights’ War.’
| The Council of Regency and the ‘Knights’ War.’
| Sept. 1522.
Franz von Sickingen, the famous Imperial Knight who had taken so
prominent a part in the election of Charles, had adopted the opinions
of Luther under the guidance of Ulrich von Hutten, that strange
literary free-lance on the Reformer’s side. True to the traditions of
his order, Sickingen hated the Electors, the Princes, and the cities.
He accordingly had organised a League of the Knights of the Upper
Rhine and neighbouring districts. The League demanded the restoration
of the old liberties of the Empire, the abolition of trade monopolies,
the abrogation of foreign law, the diminution of the number of clergy
and of monks, the cessation of the drain of money through indulgences
and other papal exactions. Seeing his opportunity in the weakness
of the Council, Sickingen determined to attack the dominions of the
Elector of Trèves, relying for support upon a Lutheran party which
had been formed there. If he could win the country, he would at once
establish the Reformed opinions, and gain for himself a splendid
territory. In September, 1522, he accordingly laid siege to the city
of Trèves. In vain the Council ordered him to desist. The city,
however, held out. Meanwhile the Princes became alarmed; they feared
that their turn might come next, and took the matter into their own
hands. Despite the commands of the Council to keep the peace, they
rose, and, led by Philip, Landgrave of Hesse, defeated Sickingen, who
shortly after died in the defence of his Castle of Ebernburg, April
1523. Hutten fled to Switzerland, to perish miserably shortly after.
The Council also attempted, though in vain, to prevent the Suabian
League from taking upon itself the duty of suppressing those Knights
within its jurisdiction who had joined Sickingen.
| Failure of the Council of Regency.
Failing thus to secure obedience or maintain order, the Council
forfeited all support. Some opposed it for what it failed to do,
others for fear of what it might become. It had never represented
popular opinion, and now became disliked by the Diet itself. The
cities had always objected to it on account of the taxation it
necessitated. Most of the Princes were behindhand with their dues, and
feared that the Council might proceed against them. Even the Electors
despaired of their projected reforms. It was accordingly soon deserted
by its most prominent members. The Elector Palatine, who had been
appointed vice-president, left it; and the Elector of Trèves, George
of Saxony, and Philip of Hesse, declared against it. Finally, the Diet
of Nuremberg, at its third session (March-April, 1524), decided that
its members should be re-elected, and that none of the present members
should be re-eligible. The new Council was no more successful, and
though it lasted till 1531, it enjoyed little authority. The spirit of
independence and territorialism was too strong, and all hope that the
Reformation might go hand-in-hand with a national movement based on a
constitutional reform of the Empire was at an end.
| Clement VII. and the Diet of Nuremberg.
| March-April 1524.
| The Catholic Congress of Ratisbon. June, 1524.
But this was not the only question that came before this Diet. Adrian
VI. had died on September 14, 1523. The new Pope, the Cardinal Giulio
de’ Medici, who took the name of Clement VII. (elected November 1523),
had sent Campeggio, his legate, to demand prompt execution of the
Edict of Worms. The adherents of Rome, although still in a majority,
did not feel strong enough to comply fully with the Pope’s command.
They promised indeed that the Edict should be enforced as far as
possible, and that heretical books should be suppressed; but, ‘lest
the good should be rooted up with the bad,’ they again insisted on the
summoning of a General Council in Germany, and meanwhile suggested
that another Diet should be summoned at Spires to settle religious
matters. Clement was not unnaturally displeased, and was in the main
supported by Charles, who, in July, issued a decree enjoining strict
obedience to the Edict of Worms. The Emperor denounced Luther in
the strongest terms, forbade the meeting of the Diet at Spires, and
declared that, although he was not entirely opposed to the summoning
of a General Council, this was a matter for him and the Pope to
decide, since it would be presumptuous for Germany to undertake the
alteration of Christian ordinances by herself. At the same time he
wrote to Clement, saying that only two alternatives were before
them: either that he (Charles) should go to Germany and suppress the
heretics by force, a course which would be not only dangerous but
impossible; or that a General Council should be called. The Council
he suggested might be summoned to Trent, and then removed to Rome.
This course, however, Clement was unwilling to adopt, and Campeggio,
by his orders, had already begun to treat with the Princes least
favourable to Luther, who met in Congress at Ratisbon in June, 1524.
After deciding to inaugurate a reform of some of the worst abuses
of Christian discipline, and of the system of indulgences, they
prohibited the reading of Luther’s books, and forbade students to
attend the heretical university of Wittenberg.
This Congress at Ratisbon marks a further stage in the controversy.
Hitherto the question of Luther had been treated as one of national
interest. Here we meet with the first attempt to organise a party of
opposition; the Lutherans were forced to follow suit; and Germany
began to fall into two hostile camps, so that all hope of settling the
religious question, without destroying the unity of the Empire, was
wrecked. It was however something that the reform of abuses had been
definitely mooted, and had Pope and Emperor been at one, something
might have come of it; but this was prevented by the political
issues which once more drove them apart, and so monopolised Charles’
attention that, as he said, ‘This was no time to speak of Luther.’
§ 6. _The Victory of Pavia._
| Charles disappointed in his hopes of support from
| Clement VII.
| Yet is at first successful in Italy, 1524.
Charles had hoped much from the election of Clement VII. But he
forgot that he had to deal with a Medici. The aim of Clement was
to further the interests of the Papal States, and of his House in
Florence, whither he had sent as governor Alessandro, the young son
of his cousin Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, under the tutelage of the
Cardinal of Cortona. To attain these ends he, like Leo. X., hoped to
balance the powers of Francis and Charles. Although he pretended that
he was anxious for peace, he really feared the outcome of a common
understanding between the rivals. Meanwhile he played a waiting game;
and anxious to find himself on the winning side, pursued a timid
faithless policy of intrigue which deceived no one, and was to bring
the Papacy to the depths of humiliation.
Fortune at first favoured Charles. In 1523, the Duke of Bourbon, the
most powerful vassal of the French Crown,[45] High Chamberlain and
Constable of France, had quarrelled with his King and joined the cause
of the Emperor. He was now made generalissimo of the Italian army.
In May, the French, beaten in several battles, in one of which the
Chevalier Bayard found the death which alone he thought worthy of a
knight, had been forced to evacuate Lombardy.
| Henry VIII. renews his alliance with Charles.
The success of Charles led Henry to renew his alliance, much to the
dismay of Wolsey, who wished to keep the hand of England free, and to
prevent either rival from gaining too great preponderance. The King
of England promised once more to invade France, and to supply Charles
with the money he so sorely needed; while Bourbon was to do homage to
the English King, as King of France.
| Bourbon’s unsuccessful attack on Marseilles.
| July, 1524.
In July, Bourbon crossed the Alps, invaded Provence and attacked
Marseilles--an important harbour, the basis of the operations of
the French fleet in the Mediterranean--whence he threatened the
communications of the Emperor between Spain and Italy. Contrary to
expectation, Marseilles held out. The Marquis of Pescara, who was next
in command, advised Bourbon not to attempt to storm it; while his
soldiers, short of pay and food, refused.
| Francis crosses the Alps and enters Milan.
| Oct. 29, 1524.
Meanwhile, Wolsey was averse to an English attack on Picardy; Charles
was unable to co-operate from Spain; and on the approach of Francis
with his army, Bourbon was forced to beat a hasty retreat across
the Alps with the loss of most of his artillery. Francis pressed
close at his heels, and, crossing the Alps by the valley of the
Durance, reached Pignerol on October 17, 1524. Milan at the moment was
ravaged by the plague, and could scarcely be held. The Imperialists,
therefore, after despatching a force of some 6000 men, under Antonio
de Leyva, to hold Pavia, threw some troops into its citadel, and
retreated under Lannoy and Pescara to Lodi, while Bourbon hastened to
Germany to collect fresh forces.
| Clement VII. breaks with Charles.
On the 29th of October, the French entered Milan by one gate, as the
last of the Imperialists left it by the other. Had Francis pursued
his advantage, he might have annihilated his enemy; but in a fatal
moment, Admiral Bonnivet, the French commander, persuaded him to
attack Pavia, and Pescara had time to recruit his exhausted troops.
‘We are beaten,’ said Pescara, ‘but we shall soon be victors.’ Yet,
as in 1521, so now, Charles seemed likely again to lose the Milanese.
Clement, fearing the vengeance of the French, first tried mediation.
He suggested that Charles should cede Milan to Francis, and content
himself with Naples. When Lannoy, Charles’ viceroy in Naples, refused
to entertain so humiliating a proposal, the Pope offered his alliance
to the French, and attempted to win over Venice. This conduct he
attempted to justify on the plea of necessity. He declared to the
Emperor that he earnestly desired peace, and called God to witness to
the honesty of his motives. Charles, however, was not deceived, and
vowed ‘he would revenge himself on this poltroon of a Pope, and that
perhaps some day Martin Luther might become a man of worth.’
| The fortunes of Charles retrieved by the victory of
| Pavia. Feb. 24, 1525.
The position of the Emperor indeed seemed desperate. The alliance with
England he could not depend upon. In Germany the peasants’ revolt had
already begun. He himself was sick with fever in Spain: above all, he
knew not where to turn for money with which to pay the troops he had
on foot. Even Lannoy warned him that he was likely to lose a crown in
the attempt to save a dukedom. Two months later, the victory of Pavia
reversed all this, and placed Charles in a position of which he could
scarcely have dreamed. In January, 1525, Bourbon returned from Germany
with so many troops, that the army of the Imperialists nearly equalled
that of the French, except in artillery and men-at-arms. But he had no
money to pay his men. Here Pescara came to his aid. He succeeded in
persuading the soldiers to await their pay till February 10, by which
day Pavia was to be relieved; and the advance was at once commanded.
The city was still held by Antonio de Leyva; but the position of the
French army, which beleaguered it, was so strong that Lannoy hesitated
to attack. All attempts, however, to force Francis to raise the siege
by a diversion failed, and the garrison were in such distress that
they must soon have capitulated. Accordingly, after three weeks’
delay, it was determined to hazard the chance of an engagement. On the
night of February 23, a breach was made in the walls of the park of
Mirabello, which stretched to the north of the French entrenchments,
and on the following morning the attack was ordered. Francis, misled
by Bonnivet, now rashly left his strong entrenchments, and determined
to accept the offer of battle. The open ground at first favoured his
artillery, and the movements of the men-at-arms. The Imperialists
wavered in the first assault, and the King, assured of victory, cried,
‘To-day I will call myself Duke of Milan.’ But Pescara reformed his
Spanish infantry; the German landsknechts under Frundsberg supported
them, and the French men-at-arms were driven back. In the shock of
infantry which followed, the Swiss in the pay of France were the
first to give way, and the Italian troops gave but poor support. The
landsknechts in the French army for a while stood firm, till a sortie
of Leyva from the beleaguered city took them in the rear, and the
French army broke. Francis, as he attempted to restore the battle,
had his horse shot under him, and was taken prisoner. He would have
fallen in the general slaughter, had he not been recognised by one of
Bourbon’s men. The losses of the French were heavy, for no quarter
had been given. Bonnivet, the French commander, La Palice and La
Trémouille, who had both grown old in the Italian wars, Francis of
Lorraine, and many others of note were slain; and Henri d’Albret of
Navarre was among the prisoners.
The battle, fought on Charles’ five-and-twentieth birthday, seemed
to realise the wildest dreams of Maximilian. Never since the days of
Charles the Great had the idea of an Empire of the West been so nearly
realised. Not only Italy, but France seemed to be at Charles’ mercy,
and, if France had fallen under his rule, Europe could scarce have
escaped bondage. But the victory was too complete. Europe, alarmed for
its safety, drew together in self-defence, and the hopelessness of
Maximilian’s dream was soon to be demonstrated.
§ 7. _The Peasants’ War._
| Causes of the Peasants’ War.
While these momentous issues were being decided in Italy, Germany
had been the scene of a serious outbreak which threatened the whole
structure of society. The causes of the Peasants’ Revolt were
primarily social. Even before the appearance of Luther, we hear of
the ‘Bundschuhe’ and other organisations of the peasants, and of
revolts against their lords. Their grievances were those common to
the villein class in all feudal societies; heavy services and dues,
oppressive sporting rights, and enclosure of common lands by their
lords. From the first, indeed, the higher clergy were specially marked
out for attack. The bishop and the abbot united in their own persons
the position of spiritual superior and feudal lord. As feudal lords,
they levied dues, exacted services, and tried offenders in their
courts. As ecclesiastical superiors, they claimed the tithes, punished
ecclesiastical offences in their ecclesiastical courts, and threatened
excommunication on the impenitent or recalcitrant. Moreover, the
heavy contributions demanded of them by Rome, forced them to exact
their dues to the full. Yet, at first, there was no connection
between these social grievances and the religious discontent. It was,
however, inevitable that in time they should become identified. The
more fanatical teachers of the new doctrines, such as Carlstadt, were
attracted to the movement. They appealed to Scripture as justifying
the revolt, and taught the peasants to interpret the spiritual
injunctions of the Gospel literally, and to fight for religious and
political freedom and for social equality under the same banner. Thus
in Germany, as elsewhere, the religious motive came to the front,
gave expression to misery as yet inarticulate, and furnished the
malcontents with a gospel.
| The Revolt in the Black Forest. May, 1524.
The eastern districts of the Black Forest, between the watersheds
of the Rhine and Danube, were the first to rise in May 1524. Their
views were comparatively moderate, and were subsequently formulated
in ‘The Twelve Articles.’ In this document, after an appeal to
Scripture in justification of their demands, they claimed the right
of electing their own ministers, and asked for the abolition of the
lesser tithe, for liberty of chase, fishing, and hewing wood, the
commutation of personal serfdom, the reduction of villein services and
dues, the restoration of communal rights. The revolt was even here
accompanied by some violence, but if it had been met by a spirit of
conciliation on the part of the lords, and of firmness on the part
of the government, it probably could have been arrested. The nobles,
however, clung to their privileges; the Council was incapable, and
Ferdinand was concentrating his energies on supplying troops and money
for the Italian campaign.
| Spread of the Revolt.
The disturbances accordingly increased rapidly during the autumn of
1524; and by February, 1525, they had spread to the whole of Germany,
from the left bank of the Rhine to the Tyrol, and from the lake of
Constance to Thuringia and Saxony. The claims of the peasants became
more extreme, the more moderate lost control, and the fanatics or the
designing assumed the lead.
| The rebels of Franconia and Thuringia.
In Franconia, amidst violent excesses, we find the demands for social
reform connected with a scheme of political reconstitution of the
Empire on a democratic basis--a scheme which betrays the hand of a
more educated mind. But it was in Thuringia and the district round
the Harz mountains that the extravagance reached its climax. The
leader, Thomas Münzer, taught doctrines which were subversive of
all authority in Church and State, and of the existing conditions of
society. Received at Mülhausen in Thuringia as a prophet, he proposed
to make that town the seat of his authority, whence he should rule his
kingdom according to revelation.
| Social Anarchy threatened.
For a moment the social fabric of Germany was imperilled. On all
sides the peasants triumphed. The nobles were either driven from
their strongholds or forced to join the leagues as ‘brothers.’ The
smaller towns, many of which suffered from the same oppressions as
the peasants--even some of the lesser imperial cities--joined the
movement. Ulrich of Würtemberg seized the opportunity to attempt a
recovery of the dominions which he had forfeited by misrule (cf. p.
131), and called the rebels to his aid.
| Causes of failure of the Revolt.
Germany was indeed threatened with anarchy; yet it is doubtful whether
the peasants had any chance of permanent success. The leaders were for
the most part visionary and ignorant fanatics. Münzer was neither a
prophet, nor a general, and the rebels had no effective organisation.
Moreover, the middle classes, led by Luther, declared against them.
Luther at first had preached moderation and reconciliation. While
condemning the revolts against authority as contrary to divine law, he
had rebuked the Princes and the lords for their oppression, and urged
them to redress the grievances of their villeins. The extravagance
of the peasants, however, shortly disgusted and frightened him. He
disliked their views, and feared lest his own position and work might
be compromised. He pointed out that the spiritual principles of
Christianity might not without peril be transferred to the sphere of
society and politics; and that, if the gospel demands the freedom of
the soul, it does not thereby emancipate the body from the control of
law. He denounced the rebels with his usual violence of language, and
bade the authorities cast away all scruple, and ‘stab and kill and
strangle’ without mercy.
| The defeat of Leipheim. April 4.
At this moment the news of the victory of Pavia strengthened the cause
of order. The Suabian League took up arms against Duke Ulrich. The
Swiss, who had at first shown some sympathy with the peasants, and had
supported the Duke, now withdrew their contingent, partly on account
of disturbances at home, partly from fear of Charles’ vengeance, and
Ulrich was forced to beat a hasty retreat. On April 4, the army of
the League inflicted a decisive defeat on the peasants at Leipheim,
near Ulm. On the 15th of May, the Princes, once more led by Philip of
Hesse, crushed the army of Münzer near Frankenhausen. Münzer was
taken prisoner and was executed at Mülhausen. The Duke of Lorraine
took Zabern in Alsace, and restored order in the Vosges. The reduction
of the city of Wurzburg by the united forces of the Suabian League,
of the Elector of Trèves, and of the Elector Palatine on June 7,
decided the fortunes of Franconia; and shortly after, the peasants of
the Upper Rhine and the Black Forest either came to terms, or were
crushed. The Princes and the nobles, once more masters, rivalled the
cruelties of the rebels. Numbers of unfortunate peasants were cut down
without mercy, and the grievances of the survivors remained, with a
few exceptions, unredressed.
| Effect of the Peasants’ Revolt on the Reformation.
But although the peasants failed in their attempt, the effect of the
revolt upon the course of the Reformation was profound. The utter
incapacity of the Council had been once more displayed, while the
defeat of the peasants had saved Germany from religious and social
anarchy. Of the four possible results of the Lutheran movement which
we have indicated above (p. 165), two alone now remained. The question
was whether Charles would succeed in completely re-establishing his
authority, or whether the spirit of territorialism would be too strong
for him. The cause of the Princes had indeed been strengthened. Once
more, as in the case of the Knights’ War, they had asserted their
power, and, with the Suabian League, had shown themselves the real
masters of the country. Luther had lost to some extent the support
of the lower classes, and was forced to lean still more upon the
Princes. Yet the position of the Emperor was most threatening. The
opponents of Luther, with scant justice, laid the responsibility of
the disturbances to his charge, and many of the more timid and refined
were alienated from his cause. Charles himself became still more
convinced that heresy and rebellion were synonymous. He was determined
therefore to crush out heresy, and the victory of Pavia seemed to
offer him a brilliant opportunity. All depended upon what the issue of
that victory should be.
FOOTNOTES:
[42] Cf. _Cambridge Modern History_, ii. 416.
[43] On this point cf. Armstrong, _Charles V._, II. c. iii.
[44] To understand the future course of the Reformation in
Germany, it is necessary to study the map, and note--
_a._ The extraordinary number of principalities into which
Germany was divided.
_b._ The division of the dominions of the greater princes among
branches of the same family, many of whom took opposite
sides. This will be best seen from the following table:--
PROTESTANT. CATHOLIC.
House of Wettin, in Saxony.
Ernestine, Electoral Branch Albertine, at Meissen.
at Wittenberg.
|
Ernest, 1464-1468. | Albert, 1485-1500.
| | |
_Frederick the Wise_, 1486-1525. | Duke George, 1500-1535.
John, his brother, 1525-1532. | Henry, his brother, 1535-1541,
| | becomes Protestant.
John Frederick. 1532-1554. | Maurice, 1541-1553, secures
the Electorate.
Hohenzollern.
Younger Branches. Electoral Branch.
|
(1) Albert of Prussia, Grand Master | Albert Achilles, 1470-1486.
of Teutonic Order, 1512-1568. | |
Secularises his Duchy, 1525. | John Cicero, 1485-1499.
(2) Albert Alcibiades, Margrave of | |
Culmbach, 1536-1557. | Joachim I., 1499-1535.
(3) John of Küstrin, Margrave of | |
Neumark, brother of Joachim | Joachim II., 1535-1571. Becomes
II., 1571. | Protestant in 1539, though he
| never breaks with the Emperor.
Wittelsbach.
| (1) Bavaria. Munich.
| Albert II., 1460-1508.
| |
| William I., 1508-1550.
| (2) Palatinate.
| Frederick the Victorious,
| 1451-1476.
| Philip, his nephew, 1476-1508.
| |
| Lewis V., 1508-1544.
| Frederick II., his brother,
| 1544-1556, becomes
| Protestant.
Welf.
Duke Ernest I., of Luneburg, | Duke Henry IV., of Wolfenbüttel,
1532-1541. | 1514-1568.
|
Wurtemberg.
| Ulrich I., 1503-1550, became
| Protestant 1534.
_c._ The number of ecclesiastical states. The three great
electoral archbishoprics of Trèves, Mayence, Cologne--with the
bishoprics of Metz on the Moselle, and Strasburg and Worms--so
dominated the upper Rhine and its tributaries as to give it the
name of Priest Street. The dioceses of Utrecht, Bremen, Münster,
and Paderborn stretched in an almost continuous line along the
north-west. To these we must add Hildesheim, Halberstadt,
Magdeburg, Würzburg, Bamberg in central Germany; and in the
south, the archbishopric of Salzburg, and the bishopric of
Trent. The existence of these numerous ecclesiastical
principalities had a twofold effect. It caused a strong feeling
in Germany against papal exactions, of which the bishoprics were
the victims, or the agents; while the desire on the part of the
Princes to extend their dominions by secularising these
ecclesiastical states, had a potent influence on many an Elector
and Prince, both Catholic and Protestant. In many cases, too,
the bishops were the relations of the Princes, and their policy
was guided by family interests or rivalries.
[45] He was Lord of 2 principalities, 2 duchies, 4 counties, 2
viscounties, and 7 lordships. _See_ Map of France.
_Cause of the quarrel between Francis and Bourbon._--Charles,
Count of Montpensier had been allowed by Louis XII. to marry
Susanna, the heiress of Duke Peter of Bourbon. After the death of
his wife without children, the Queen-mother, Louise of Savoy,
claimed some of his possessions as niece of Duke Peter. Francis,
with better right, demanded the restoration of others in
fulfilment of Duke Peter’s original promise, that in default of
male issue he would leave all the alienable possessions of his
House to the Crown.