CHAPTER XXI.

CONFERENCES AT SMALCALD AND CALAIS.

(MARCH TO OCTOBER 1532.)

[Sidenote: DU BELLAY'S PROJECTS.]

France, or at least the king and the influential men, appeared at this

time to be veering towards a moderate Reform. Francis I. seemed to have

some liking for his sister's religion; but there were other motives

inclining him to entertain these ideas. Finding himself without allies

in Europe, he endeavoured to gain the friendship of the protestants,

hoping that with their help he would be in a condition to oppose the

emperor and restore the French preponderance in Italy. One man in

particular set himself the task of directing his country into a new

path; this was William du Bellay, brother to the Bishop of Paris, and

'one of the greatest men France ever had,' says a catholic

historian.[243] A skilful, active, and prudent diplomatist, Du Bellay

called to mind the memorable struggles that had formerly taken place

between the popes and the kings of France; he believed that christendom

was in a state of transition, and desired, as the Chancellor de

l'Hôpital did in later years, that the new times should be marked with

more liberty, and not with more servitude, as the Guises, the Valois,

and the Bourbons would have wished. He went even farther: he thought

that the sixteenth century would substitute for the papacy of the middle

ages a form of christianity, catholic of course, but more in conformity

with the ancient Scriptures and the modern requirements. From that hour

his dominant idea, his chief business, was to unite catholic France to

protestant Germany.

Having received the instructions of Francis I., Du Bellay left Honfleur,

where the king was staying,[244] on the 11th of March, 1532, and crossed

the Rhine about the middle of April. At Schweinfurth-on-the-Maine,

between Wurtzburg and Bamberg, he found an assembly composed of a few

protestant princes on one side, and a few mediators on the other, among

whom was the elector-archbishop of Mayence. As this brings us into

Germany, it is necessary that we should take a glance at what had

happened there since the great diet of Augsburg in 1530.[245]

The catholics and protestants had made up their minds at that time for a

contest, and everything foreboded the bursting of the storm in the next

spring (1531). There were, so to say, two contrary currents among the

friends of the Reformation in Germany. One party (the men of prudence)

wished that the evangelical states should seek powerful alliances and

prepare to resist the emperor by force of arms; the other (the men of

piety) called to mind that the Reformation had triumphed at Augsburg by

faith, and added that from faith all its future triumphs were to be

expected. These two parties had frequent meetings at Wittemberg, Torgau,

and elsewhere. One man especially, with open countenance and firm look,

whose lips seemed always ready to speak, made his clear and sonorous

voice heard: this was Luther. 'To God alone,' he told the elector,

'belongs the government of the future; your Highness must therefore

persevere in that faith and confidence in God which you have just

displayed so gloriously at Augsburg.'[246] But the jurists of Torgau

were not entirely of that opinion, and they endeavoured to prove that

their rights in the empire authorised the protestants to repel force by

force. Luther was not to be shaken. 'If war breaks out,' he replied, 'I

call God and the world to witness, that the Lutherans have in no wise

provoked it; that they have never drawn the sword, never thrown men into

prison, never burnt, killed, and pillaged, as their adversaries have

done; and, in a word, that they have never sought anything but peace and

quietness.'[247] The politicians smiled at such enthusiasm, and said

that in real life things must go on very differently. A conference was

appointed for the consideration of what was to be done, and in the

meanwhile great efforts were made to win over new allies to the

protestant cause.

[Sidenote: ALLIANCE OF SMALCALD.]

On the 29th of March, 1531, the deputies of the protestant states met at

Smalcald, in the electorate of Hesse. In the eyes of the peace party

this was a place of evil omen: the town was fortified, and there were

iron mines in the neighbourhood, from which arms have been manufactured

and cannons founded. As the deputies proceeded to the castle of

Wilhelmsburg, built on a hill near the town, they wore a mournful

anxious look. They were disappointed in the hope they had entertained of

seeing Denmark, Switzerland, Mecklenburg, and Pomerania join them.

Nevertheless they did not hesitate, notwithstanding their weakness, to

assert their rights against the power of Charles V. Nine princes and

eleven cities entered into an alliance for six years 'to resist all who

should try to constrain them to forsake the Word of God and the truth of

Christ.'

This resolution was received with very different sentiments. Some said

that it was an encroachment on the spirituality of the Church; others

maintained that since liberty of conscience was a civil as well as a

religious right, it ought to be upheld, if necessary, by force of arms.

They soon went farther. Some persons proposed, with a view of making the

alliance closer, to introduce into all the evangelical churches a

perfect uniformity both of worship and ecclesiastical constitution; but

energetic voices exclaimed that this would be an infringement of

religious liberty under the pretence of upholding it. When the deputies

met again at Frankfort, on the 4th of June, these generous men said

boldly: 'We will maintain diversity for fear that uniformity should,

sooner or later, lead to a kind of popery.' They understood that the

inward unity of faith is better than the superficial unity of form.[248]

After various negotiations the evangelicals met at Schweinfurth to

receive the proposals of their adversaries; and it was during this

conference (April and May 1532) that the ambassador of the King of

France arrived. When the protestants saw him appear, they were rather

embarrassed; but still they received him with respect. He soon found out

in what a critical position the men of the confession of Augsburg were

placed. True, the mediators offered them peace, but it was on condition

that they made no stipulations in favour of those who might embrace the

Gospel hereafter. This proposal greatly irritated the Landgrave of

Hesse, his chancellor Feig, and the other members of the conference.

'What!' exclaimed the Hessians, 'shall a barrier be raised between

protestantism and popery, and no one be allowed to pass it?... No! the

treaty of peace must equally protect those who now adhere to the

confession of Augsburg and those who may hereafter do so.'—'It is an

affair of conscience,' wrote the evangelical theologians, and Urban

Regius in particular; 'this is a point to be given up on no

account.'[249] The electoral prince himself was resolved to adopt this

line of conduct.

[Sidenote: LUTHER OPPOSES DIPLOMACY AND WAR.]

Luther was not at Schweinfurth, but he kept on the look-out for news. He

spoke about the meeting to his friends; he attacked the schemes of the

politicians; all these negotiations, stipulations, conventions,

signatures, ratifications, and treaties in behalf of the Gospel annoyed

him. When he learnt what they were going to do at Schweinfurth, he was

dismayed. To presume to save the faith with protocols was almost

blasphemous in his eyes! One of his powerful letters fell like a

bomb-shell into the midst of the conference. 'When we were without any

support,' he said, 'and entirely new in the empire, with struggles and

combats all around us, the Gospel triumphed and truth was upheld,

despite the enemies who wished to stifle them both. Why should not the

Gospel triumph now with its own strength? Why should it be necessary to

help it with our diplomacy and our treaties? Is not God as mighty now as

then? Does the Almighty want us to vote the aid that we mean to give him

in future by our human stipulations?'...

These words of Luther caused general consternation. People said to one

another that 'the Doctor had been ill, and that he had consoled his

friends by saying: "Do not be afraid; if I were to sink now, the papists

would be too happy; therefore I shall not die." They added that his

advice against treaties was no doubt a remnant of his fever; the great

man is not quite right in his mind; the prince-electoral and the

excellent chancellor Bruck wrote to the elector, who was in Saxony, that

everybody was against Luther, who appeared to have no understanding of

business.' But the reformer did not suffer himself to be checked; on the

contrary, he begged the elector to write a sharp letter to his

representatives. 'The princes and burgesses have embraced the Gospel at

their own risk and peril,' he said, 'and in like manner every one must

in future receive and profess it at his own expense.' At the same time

he began to agitate Wittemberg, and drew up an opinion which Pomeranus

signed with him. In it he said: 'I will never take upon my conscience to

provoke the shedding of blood, even to maintain our articles of faith.

It would be the best means of destroying the true doctrine, in the midst

of the confusions of war.'[250] The reformer thought that if the

Lutherans and the Zwinglians, the Germans and the Swiss united, they

would feel so strong, that they would assume the initiative and draw the

sword—which he wished to avert by all means in his power.

[Sidenote: DU BELLAY'S OVERTURES.]

But the politicians were not more inclined to give way than the

theologians. On the contrary, they made preparations for receiving the

ambassador of France, in which, however, there was some difficulty. The

diplomatist's arrival compromised them with the imperialists; they could

not receive him in the assembly at Schweinfurth, since catholic princes

would be present. The protestants therefore went a few miles off, to the

little town of Königsberg in Franconia, between Coburg, Bamberg, and

Schweinfurth. Here they formed themselves into a secret committee and

received the ambassador. 'Most honoured lords,' said Du Bellay, 'the

king my master begs you will excuse him for not having sent me to you

sooner. That proceeds neither from negligence nor from want of

affection, but because he desired to come to some understanding with the

King of England, who also wishes to help you in your great enterprise.

The negotiations are not yet ended; but my august master, desirous of

avoiding longer delay, has commissioned me to say that you will find him

ready to assist you. Yes, though he should do it alone; though his

brother of England (which he does not believe) were to refuse; though

the emperor should march his armies against you, the king will not

abandon you. On the honour of a prince, he said. I have received ample

powers to arrange with you about the share of the war expenses which his

Majesty is ready to pay.'[251]

The circumstances were not favourable for the proposals of Francis I.

The pacific ideas of Luther prevailed. The Elector of Saxony, who was

then ill, desired to die in peace. He therefore sided with the reformer,

and it was agreed to name in the act of alliance the princes and cities

that had already adhered to the confession of Augsburg, and that they

alone should be included in the league. These peaceful ideas of the

protestants did not harmonise with the warlike ideas of King Francis. Du

Bellay was not discouraged, and skilfully went upon another tack; while

the Saxon diplomatists were compelled to yield to the will of their

master, Du Bellay remarked a young prince, full of spirit and daring,

who spared nobody and said aloud what he thought. This was the Landgrave

of Hesse, who complained unceasingly either of Luther's advice, or of

the resolution of the conference. 'The future will show,' he told

everybody, 'whether they have acted wisely in this matter.' The minister

of Francis I., who was of the landgrave's opinion, entered into

communication with him.

An important question—the question of Wurtemberg—at that time occupied

Germany. In 1512 Duke Ulrich, annoyed because he had not more influence

in the Suabian league, had seceded from it, quarrelled with the emperor,

thrown that prince's adherents into prison, burdened his subjects with

oppressive taxes, and caused trouble in his own family. In consequence

of all this, the emperor expelled him from his states in 1519 and 1520,

and he took refuge in his principality of Montbéliard. It seemed that

adversity had not been profitless to him. In 1524, when Farel went to

preach the Reformation at Montbéliard, Ulrich (as we have seen[252])

defended religious liberty. When the emperor was at Augsburg in 1530,

wishing to aggrandise the power of Austria, he had given the duchy of

Wurtemberg to his brother Ferdinand, to the great indignation of the

protestants, and especially of the landgrave. 'We must restore the

legitimate sovereign in Wurtemberg,' said this young and energetic

prince: 'that will take the duchy from the catholic party and give it to

the protestants.' But all the negotiations undertaken with this view had

failed. If, however, one of the great powers of Europe should take up

the cause of the dukes of Wurtemberg, their restoration would be easier.

Francis I. had not failed to see that he could checkmate the emperor

here. 'As for the Duke of Wurtemberg,' said Du Bellay to the Königsberg

conference, 'the king my lord will heartily undertake to serve him to

the utmost of his power, without infringing the treaties.'[253] The

landgrave had taken note of these words, and their result was to

establish the Reformation in a country which is distinguished by its

fervent protestantism and its zeal in propagating the Gospel to the ends

of the world.

[Sidenote: PEACE OF NUREMBERG.]

A mixed assembly of catholics and protestants having met at Nuremberg in

the month of May, the protestants demanded a council in which everything

should be decided 'according to the pure Word of God.' The members of

the Romish party looked discontented: 'It is a captious, prejudiced, and

anti-catholic condition,' they said. Yet, as the Turks were threatening

the empire, it was necessary to make some concessions to the

Reformation, in order to be in a condition to resist them. The violent

fanatics represented to no purpose that Luther was not much better than

Mahomet; peace was concluded at Nuremberg on the 23rd of July, 1532, and

it was agreed that, while waiting for the next free and general council,

the _status quo_ should be preserved, and all Germans should exercise a

sincere and christian friendship. This first religious peace cheered

with its mild beams the last days of the elector John of Saxony. On the

14th of August, 1532, that venerable prince, whom even the imperialists

styled 'the Father of the German land,' was struck with apoplexy. 'God

help me!' he exclaimed, and immediately expired. 'Wisdom died with the

elector Frederick,' said Luther, 'and piety with the elector John.'

Yet Du Bellay was always harassed by the desire of emancipating from

Rome that France which the Medici, the Guises, the Valois, and

afterwards the Bourbons, were about to surrender to her. He therefore

increased his exertions among the protestants to induce them to accept

the friendship, if not the alliance, of his master. But they had no

great confidence in 'the Frenchman;' they were afraid that they would be

surprised, deceived, and then abandoned by Francis; they 'shook with

fear.' The ambassador was more urgent than ever; he accepted the

conditions of the protestants, and the two parties signed a sort of

agreement. Du Bellay returned to Francis I., who was then in Brittany,

and the king having heard him, sent him instantly to England, to give

Henry VIII. a full account of all his negotiations with the protestant

princes.[254]

Thus politicians were intriguing on every side. In Germany, France, and

England, the princes imagined that they could conquer by means of

diplomacy; but far different were the forces by which the victory was to

be gained. In the midst of all this activity of courts and cabinets,

there was an inner and secret activity which stirred the human mind and

excited in it a burning thirst, which the truth and the life of God

alone could quench. Centuries before, as early as 1020, the revival had

begun in Aquitaine, at Orleans, and on the Rhine. Men had proclaimed

that christians 'ought to be filled with the Holy Ghost; that God would

be with them, and would give them the treasures of his wisdom.'[255]

This inward movement had gone on growing from age to age. The Waldenses

in the twelfth century, the purest portion of the Albigenses in the

thirteenth, Wickliffe and the Lollards in the fourteenth, and John Huss

and his followers in the fifteenth, are the heroes of this noble war.

This christian life arose, increased, and spread; if it was extinguished

in one country, it reappeared in another. The religious movement of the

mind gained strength; the electricity was accumulated in the battery;

the mine was charged, and the explosion was certain erelong. All this

was being accomplished under the guidance of a sovereign commander. He

applied the match in the sixteenth century by the hand of Luther; once

more he sprang the mine by the powerful preaching of Calvin, Knox, and

others. It was this that won the victory, and not diplomacy. However, we

have not yet done with it.

[Sidenote: MEETING OF FRANCIS AND HENRY.]

At this time Francis I. was enraptured with Henry VIII., calling him his

'good brother' and 'perpetual ally.' Wearied of the pope and of the

popedom, which appeared as if unable to shake off the tutelage of

Charles V., the King of France saw Germany separating from Rome, and

England doing the same, and Du Bellay was continually asking him why he

would not conclude a triple alliance with these two powers? Such a

coalition, formed in the name of the revival of learning and of reform

in the Church, would certainly triumph over all the opposition made to

it by ignorance and superstition. Francis I. had not made up his mind to

break entirely with the pope, though he was resolved to unite with the

pope's enemies. In order to conclude a close alliance with Henry, he

chose the moment when that prince was most out of humour with the court

of Rome. The articles were drawn up on the 23rd of June, 1532.[256]

The two kings were not content with making preparations only for the

great campaign they meditated against the emperor and Rome: they

determined to have an interview. On the 11th of October, 1532, the

gallant Henry, accompanied by a brilliant court, crossed the Channel and

arrived at Calais, at that time an English possession; while the elegant

Francis, attended by his three sons and many of his nobles, arrived at

Boulogne one or two days later. The great point with Francis was glory—a

victory to be gained over Charles V.; the great point with Henry was to

gratify his passions, and as Clement VII. thwarted him, he had a special

grudge against the pope. With such hatreds and such intentions, it was

easy for the two kings to come to an understanding.

Their first meeting was at Boulogne, in the abbot's palace, where they

stayed four days under the same roof. Francis was inexhaustible in

attentions to his guest; but the important part of their business was

transacted in one of their closets, where these impetuous princes

confided to each other their anger and their plans. The King of England

gave vent to 'great complaints and grievances' against Clement VII. 'He

wants to force me to go to Rome in person. If he means to institute an

inquiry, let him send his proctors to England. Let us summon the pope

(he added) to appear before a free council empowered to inquire into the

abuses under which princes and people suffer so severely, and to reform

them.'[257]

Francis, who also had 'goodwill to complain,' filled the abbot's palace

with his grievances: 'I have need of the clergy-tenths (the tenth part

of the Church revenues), in order that I may resist the Turk; but the

holy father opposes my levying them. I have need of all the resources of

my subjects; but the holy father is continually inventing new exactions,

which transfer the money of my kingdom into the coffers of the popedom.

He makes us pay annates, maintain pontifical officers at a great

expense, and give large presents to prothonotaries, valets,

chamberlains, ushers, and others. And what is the consequence? The

clergy are poor; the ruined churches are not repaired; and the indigent

lack food.... Most assuredly the Roman government is only _a net to

catch money_. We must have a council.'[258]

The two princes resolved to 'take from the pope the obedience of their

kingdoms,' as Guicciardini says.[259] However, before resorting to

extreme measures, Francis desired to begin with milder means, and Henry

was forced to consent that France should forward his grievances to Rome.

[Sidenote: THE MASKED LADY.]

After living together for four days at Boulogne, Henry and Francis went

to Calais, where the latter found his apartments hung with cloth of

gold, embroidered with pearls and precious stones. At table, the viands

were served on one hundred and seventy dishes of solid gold. Henry gave

a grand masked ball, at which the King of France was considerably

tantalised by a masked lady of very elegant manners with whom he danced.

She spoke French like a Frenchwoman, abounded in wit and grace, and

knew, in its most trifling details, all the scandal of the court of

France. The king declared the lady to be charming, and her neck the

prettiest he had ever seen. He little imagined then that this neck would

one day be severed by the orders of Henry VIII. At the end of the dance,

the King of England, with a smile, removed the lady's mask, and showed

the features of Anne Boleyn, Marchioness of Pembroke, who (it will be

recollected) had been brought up at the court of the French king's

sister.[260]

Pleasure did not make the two princes forget business. They were again

closeted, and signed a treaty, in accordance with which they engaged to

raise an army of 65,000 infantry and 15,000 cavalry, intended apparently

to act against the Turks.[261] Du Bellay's policy was in the ascendant.

'The great king,' he said, 'is staggering from his obedience.'[262]

[Sidenote: FRANCIS THREATENS SEPARATION.]

Wishing to make a last effort before determining to break with the pope,

Francis summoned Cardinals de Tournon and de Gramont, men devoted to his

person, and said to them: 'You will go to the holy father and lay before

him in confidence both our grievances and our dissatisfaction. You will

tell him that we are determined to employ, as soon as may be advisable,

all our alliances, public as well as private, to execute great things ...

from which much damage may ensue and perpetual regret for the

future. You will tell him that, in accord with other christian princes,

we shall assemble a council without him, and that we shall forbid our

subjects in future to send money to Rome. You will add—but as a secret

and after taking the pope aside—that in case his holiness should think

of censuring me and forcing me to go to Rome for absolution, I shall

come, but _so well attended_ that his holiness will be only too eager to

grant it me....

'Let the pope consider well,' added the king, 'that the Germans, the

Swiss League, and several other countries in Christendom, have separated

from Rome. Let him understand that if two powerful kings like us should

also secede, we should find many imitators, _both Italians and

others_;[263] and that, at the least, there would be a greater war in

Europe than any known in time past.'[264]

Such were the proud words France sent to Rome. The two kings separated.

A young prince, held captive by Charles V., gave them the first

opportunity of acting together against both emperor and pope.

[Footnote 243: Le Grand, _Hist. du Divorce de Henri VIII._ i. p. 20.]

[Footnote 244: 'Ex oppido unde fluctu Lexoviorum.'—Rommel, _Philippe le

M._ ii. p. 259.]

[Footnote 245: _History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century_,

vol. iv. bk. xiv. ch. xii.]

[Footnote 246: Lutheri _Epp._ iv. p. 201—Dec. 1530.]

[Footnote 247: _Warnung an seine lieben Deutschen._ Lutheri _Opp._ lib.

xx. p. 298.]

[Footnote 248: Seckendorf, pp. 1174-1192, sqq.]

[Footnote 249: Urban Regius to the Landgrave.]

[Footnote 250: Lutheri _Epp._ iv. pp. 335, 337, 369, 372, sqq.]

[Footnote 251: Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, pp. 168, 169, Paris, 1588. The

historian is very well informed, especially on everything concerning his

brother's missions.]

[Footnote 252: _Hist. of the Ref. of the Sixteenth Cent._ vol. iii. bk.

xii. chap. xi.]

[Footnote 253: Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, pp. 171, 172.]

[Footnote 254: Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, pp. 171, 172.]

[Footnote 255: 'Deus tibi comes nunquam deerit, in quo sapentiæ thesauri

atque divitiarum consistunt.' See Ademarus, monk of Angoulême in 1029,

_Chronic._ _Gesta Synodi Aurelianensis_, &c.]

[Footnote 256: The articles are given in Herbert's _Life of Henry VIII._

p. 366, sqq. Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, p. 171.]

[Footnote 257: Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, p. 173.]

[Footnote 258: Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, pp. 173, 174.]

[Footnote 259: Guicciardini, _Hist. des Guerres d'Italie_, ii. liv. xx.

p. 893.]

[Footnote 260: 'The French king talked with the marchioness a space.'—

_Hall_, p. 794.]

[Footnote 261: Le Grand, _Hist. du Divorce de Henri VIII._ p. 238.]

[Footnote 262: Brantôme, _Mémoires_, i. p. 235.]

[Footnote 263: The words _tant italiens que autres_, are not in the

speech delivered at Calais according to Du Bellay; but they are in the

written instructions given to the two cardinals. _Preuves des Libertés_,

p. 260.]

[Footnote 264: Du Bellay, _Mémoires_, pp. 175, 176, sqq.]

History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin. Vol. 2 (of 8) · 第 10 / 28 章