_Nuremberg and the Reformation_
"Trading Staple of the German World in old days, Toyshop of the
German World in these new, Albert Dürer's and Hans Sachs'
City."--CARLYLE.
We have watched the dawning sun of Nuremberg's greatness rise over the
forest till now it has reached the _Mittags_-quarter. We have seen, to
change the metaphor, the little foundling of the swamps grow year by
year till at last she has arrived at the full strength and beauty of
womanhood. For it was under Maximilian that Nuremberg reached her prime:
it was under him and his successors that the greatest of her sons
flourished. She was lavish as a princess in the adornment of her person.
Once in 1447, and again in 1491, for instance, we find her voting some
500 florins to gild the Beautiful Fountain (Schöner Brunnen), which had
been placed in the Hauptmarkt 1385.[16] She was already adorned with
those churches which in her old age are still her brightest jewels.
Once completed, these churches were not regarded merely as houses of
prayer, but rather as the books of God, where the divine history of the
Redemption might be read and illustrated. The Christian fervour of the
artists led them to give their best and sincerest work to the decoration
of them. So that in the course of time the churches came to represent
for the people museums constantly open, historic galleries of sacred
art, to which one masterpiece after another was added.
"From daily admiration of them an æsthetic sense was formed in the
minds of the young, and thanks to them the artists found repeated
opportunities for exercising their art. Orders from private
individuals or public bodies abounded. Every well-to-do family,
every corporation was eager to do honour to God by the presentation
of some gift to his holy dwelling-place: some offered a picture, a
statue, a window, or an altar-piece; the portraits of the families
themselves,[17] as portraits of the donors, were placed at the feet
of the saints. When the artists represented themselves in paint,
bronze, wood, or stone, they gave themselves the humble attitude of
suppliants: in those of their compositions which contain numerous
personages they always choose the humblest place for themselves;
often, like Adam Krafft in the tabernacle in the Church of St.
Lorenz, they appear in their working clothes, tools in hand, in the
attitude of servants."[18]
Whilst such men as Adam Krafft and Peter Vischer were giving their
life-work to the beautifying of the churches, sculpture and painting
also were turned to the adornment of domestic and public life. The
mansions of the merchant princes still bear witness to the wealth of the
burgesses, and to the vigour of the artistic impulse of this period.
Every house, apart from architectural splendour, was decorated with a
painting, whether of some symbol or the patron saint of the family. The
very aspect of the streets spoke to the importance of the rôle which art
played in the life of the town. The influence of the town reacted no
less surely on the art of the period. Albert Durer, for instance, in
spite of his wide experience always speaks in his art, like his master
Wolgemut, in the Nuremberg dialect. The intense patriotism and the deep
religious feeling which formed so intimate a part of the lives of the
citizens are reproduced in their art and literature,
[Illustration: SCHÖNER BRUNNEN]
giving the greatest examples of them the added charm of locality. Their
love of science was no less genuine than their love of art. In June
1471, a few weeks after the birth of Albert Durer, Johannes Muller,
(surnamed Regiomontanus in allusion to Königsberg, his native village)
the great mathematical genius, "the wonder of his generation," took up
his abode at Nuremberg, making her the true home of physical and
mathematical science and contributing mightily to her reputation as "the
capital of German art, the most precious jewel of the Empire, the
meeting-place of art and industry." "I have chosen Nuremberg for my
place of residence," he writes, "because there I find without difficulty
all the peculiar instruments necessary for astronomy, and there it is
easiest for me to keep in touch with the learned of all countries, for
Nuremberg, thanks to the perpetual journeyings of her merchants, may be
counted the centre of Europe." Inspired with the eager desire to know
everything, so characteristic of his age, he was equally desirous to
impart his knowledge. We may trace to his influence Durer's book on
geometry and his beautiful chart of the heavens. Muller introduced
popular science lectures, and organised the manufacture of astronomical
and nautical instruments. His most famous pupil was Martin Behaim the
constructor of the first globe and the adventurous navigator, whose
monument (1890) may be seen in the Theresien Platz. Behaim in 1492
indicated on his terrestrial globe the precise route followed six years
later by Vasco da Gama when he doubled the Cape of Good Hope. It was
Behaim, too, who suggested to Magellan the first idea of the strait
which bears his name. Behaim's famous globe is kept in the Behaim House,
which is in the Ægiden Platz, next to the house of Koberger, the
printer, and opposite the statue of Melanchthon (by Burgschmiet, 1826).
Maximilian, "the last of the knights," had taken a considerable part in
the government before he succeeded his father in 1493. The Nurembergers,
who always had an eye for a strong man, had already shown their loyalty
to him. He had stayed amongst them at the house of Christopher Scheurl
(father of the famous Dr Scheurl), and whilst there would seem to have
amused himself light-heartedly enough. When about to depart, we are
told, he invited twenty great ladies to dinner; after dinner, when they
were all in a good humour, the Margraf Frederick asked Maximilian in the
name of the ladies to stay a little longer and to dance with them.
_They_, it is said, had taken away his boots and spurs, so he had no
choice. Then the whole company adjourned to the Council House, several
other young ladies were invited, and Maximilian stayed dancing all
through the afternoon and night and arrived a day late at Neumarkt where
the Count of the Palatinate had been expecting him all the preceding
day.
As Emperor, Maximilian stayed at the Kaiserburg. A brilliant assembly
attended his first Reichstag. Masques, dances, tourneys and so forth are
recorded with gusto by the chroniclers. The Emperor, they say,
entertained all the ladies of the town at dinner and provided them with
two hundred and forty sorts of dishes. No wonder he was popular!
Nuremberg was not allowed to be content with supplying Maximilian with
partners in the ball-room. In 1499 she had to support him in his
disastrous war with Switzerland. The Nuremberg contingent was under
Willibald Pirkheimer and Wolf Pömer. Beautifully dressed in red and
white uniforms these soldiers earned the reputation of cowardice and
treachery. Such imputations were, let it be confessed, not unfrequently
cast upon Nuremberg courage; but on this occasion the Emperor took their
part and refuted the charge.
Nuremberg knew at any rate how to fight her own battles. Throughout this
period we find her engaged in continual quarrels with the Markgrafs of
Brandenburg. The Burggraf Frederick once made Elector, had parted with
the Burggrafship, sold it, all but the title, to the burghers in 1427.
But principalities and territories were retained in that quarter, and
about these, and their feudal rights and boundaries and tolls, endless
trouble arose. Some fifty years later actual furious war resulted
between the Elector Albert Achilles and the jealous citizens--a war in
"which eight victories are counted on Albert's part--furious successful
skirmishes they call them; in one of which Albert plunged in alone, his
Ritters being rather shy, and laid about him hugely, hanging by a
standard he had taken, till his life was nearly beaten out. Eight
victories, and also one defeat wherein Albert got captured and had to
ransom himself. The captor was one Kunz of Kauffungen, the Nürnberg
hired General at the time, a man known to some readers for his stealing
of the Saxon princes (Prinzenraut, they call it), a feat which cost Kunz
his head."[19] Such quarrels continued, for the Markgrafs did not
relinquish their efforts to extend their powers. Details it would be
wearisome to give, but they illustrate the general family tendency of
the Hohenzollern. It is characteristic that they were generally
successful in their claims (all cases, it was now decided, arising from
Nuremberg property outside the walls were to be tried by the
Landgericht, of which the Markgraf was president), and based on this
success still greater claims in the future.
The memoirs of Götz von Berlichingen furnish us with an interesting
account of the Battle of the Forest of Nuremberg (1502), which affords a
good example of the sort of thing continually occurring in those days.
Towards the end of May it was rumoured in the town that warlike
preparations were being made in Ansbach, the headquarters of the
Markgraf. The feelings of the citizens were still further roused by the
fact that the Markgraf had taken under his protection an enemy of
Nuremberg. The day of the Affalterbacher Fair was at hand. The prospect
seemed so threatening that the Council sent a specially large
contingent--2000 men, with a "Wagenburg" and cannon under the command of
the Magistrate Hans von Weichsdorf, Wolf Haller, and Wolf Pömer--to
escort their citizens who went to attend the fair. An accidental
explosion of powder when they were starting seemed ominous. At home they
kept a small force under Ulman Stromer, who drew up between the
Frauen- and Spitler-Thor. On the day of the fair, the Markgraf appeared
with a large force of knights, Swiss and local soldiery. Amongst them
was Götz von Berlichingen, who was only twenty-two years of age. The
following manoeuvers then took place. In the morning some sixty
horsemen were seen driving off the cattle about a quarter of a mile
south of Nuremberg. Ulman Stromer thereupon marched out and took up a
strong position, under protection of his guns, and drove the horsemen
back into the woods, "for they did not find it very amusing: it is not
everybody who likes to hear the cannon roar," says Götz. The retreat of
the enemy enticed Ulman Stromer to follow them with his carts and cannon
into the wood. Suddenly he came upon the Markgraf Casimir with his main
army. Though outnumbered, the Nurembergers did not lose their courage,
but fired with such effect that the riff-raff of the enemy
[Illustration: FRAUEN THOR]
cleared off, leaving the knights and Switzers to do battle. Under cover
of a strong fire, "so that nothing could be seen for smoke," Stromer
tried to form a "Wagenburg" (waggon fortress), by having the carts
driven round so as to form a circle about the men and guns, hoping to be
able to wait in this extemporised fort till reinforcements should arrive
from Affalterbach. Götz boasts that it was he who prevented this
manoeuvre from being executed. For he killed one of the drivers, and
so interrupted the completion of the circle. The Brandenburgers were
thus enabled to rush in, and compelled the citizens to take to flight.
At this juncture the reinforcements came up, but it was too late. A
general rush for safety to the town took place. On the bridge over the
moat there was so great a crush of refugees that many were forced over
into the water. Luckily the cannon on the Frauen Thor kept the Markgraf
at a safe distance. Within the town a terrible panic had occurred. Götz,
indeed, says that the place could easily have been taken--a statement
not very easy to believe. At any rate, the Markgraf did not attempt it,
but marched back to Schwabach to hold a service of thanksgiving, whilst
the Nurembergers revenged themselves on the peasants whom they had taken
prisoner. Intense indignation was felt and expressed against the
Markgraf: prisoners were torn to pieces in the streets. At last a
curious peace was arranged, to begin on July 1st, but not before. Each
side tried to damage the other as much as possible before that day came,
and the Council, in order to get in a good final blow, burned the
Markgraf's castle of Schönberg at the last moment. A peace thus
inaugurated did not, as may be imagined, produce any lasting good
feeling between the two parties. In the very next year fresh trouble
arose over one Heinz Baum, a Nuremberg citizen who had come down in the
world and been put into prison by his creditors. As soon as he was
released, he left the town, threw up his citizenship, and, after writing
various threatening letters to the Council, he surprised Hans Tucher, a
Nuremberg patrician, when riding out to his country seat, and kept him
prisoner till he was ransomed. With the Markgraf's secret support, Baum
proceeded to seize and keep in the stocks till ransom was paid all the
citizens he could lay his hands on. Though the Emperor outlawed him, he
pursued his way unhindered, protected by the Markgraf, till 1512, when
Nuremberg bought off his chief supporter, and Heinz Baum retired to
Bamberg, where he died poor but unpunished.
The importance of Nuremberg was still further enhanced by the part she
took in the war of the Bavarian Succession. In 1503 George the Rich of
Bavaria had died without male issue. According to the feudal right, his
lands ought to have gone to the male heir, but, hating as he did his
natural successors, his cousins Albrecht of Bavaria and Wolfgang, he had
made his daughter his sole heiress, and married her to her cousin
Ruprecht (third son of the powerful Philip, Elector of the Palatinate),
whom he adopted as his son and made governor of a great part of the
country. On the death of Duke George, Ruprecht succeeded, but Albrecht
and Wolfgang raised such strenuous protest that the Emperor, after
repeated attempts to arrange a compromise, was obliged to outlaw
Ruprecht and all his supporters, his father the Elector Philip included.
War was the inevitable result. The Emperor and other princes, amongst
whom was the Markgraf of Brandenburg, gave their support to Albrecht,
who promised them a share in what was conquered. Many of Philip's
possessions were close to Nuremberg. Albrecht was therefore able to
entice her to fight for him, promising her in return for her aid 40,000
gulden, with all the Palatinate towns and the value of all George's
towns that she might manage to take. With the aid of three special
cannon, called the Owl, the Falcon, and the Fishermaid, capable of
shooting balls of 263 pounds weight, the Nuremberg army captured a
considerable number of Palatinate towns. But even after the deaths first
of Ruprecht and then of his brave widow, who had carried on the struggle
like another Margaret of Anjou, the war still dragged on on behalf of
their little sons, and the Palatinate party were actually getting a
little the best of it when, at a Reichstag in Cologne, Maximilian at
length arranged a successful compromise.
Nuremberg was allowed to keep what she had taken, and now had more land
than any other free town in the Empire. It was a doubtful blessing. She
was involved in constant wars to keep it, in further quarrels with the
Markgraf over the rights of _Fraisgericht_,--of jurisdiction in matters
of life and death in the newly acquired towns, and she had to pay
largely increased contributions to the Empire. Altogether she was
impoverished rather than benefited by her new property.
We have now to trace the story of the celebrated feud with Götz von
Berlichingen--the warrior knight, the chivalrous and charitable, the
brave, free-booting noble, Götz of the Iron Hand. Such is the character
Goethe gave him when he centred in him, as the heroic champion of the
privileges of the Free Knights, the interest of his Shakesperian drama.
Truth, however, compels us to declare, that though men like Götz or
Franz von Sickingen, the Robin Hoods of Germany, had the qualities of a
certain rough justice and courage, they were, for the rest, wholly
undeniable brigands. The love of destruction, disorder, and rapine, and
the hatred of authority were their chief motives. They used their rights
as pretexts for violence and devoted themselves to brigandage as to a
legitimate vocation and organised industry. They were, indeed, little
better than leaders of bands of robbers, the wolves of civilisation.
"One day," says Götz, "as I was on the point of making an attack, I
perceived a pack of wolves descending on a flock of sheep. This
incident seemed to me a good omen. We were going to begin the
fight. A shepherd was near us, guarding his sheep, when, as if to
give us the signal, five wolves threw themselves simultaneously on
the flock. I saw it and noted it gladly. I wished them success and
ourselves too, saying, 'Good luck, dear comrades, success to you
everywhere!' I took it as a very good augury that we had begun the
attack together!"
It was in 1495 that Maximilian, ever anxious to promote peace and order
within the borders of his Empire, abrogated by edict the right of
private war under the penalty of the ban of the Empire--a penalty which
involved the dooms of outlawry and excommunication. Thus the "last of
the Knights" gave the death-blow to the chivalry of the Middle Ages.
Hitherto every German noble holding fief directly from the Emperor had
been on his own property a petty monarch, as it were, subordinate to the
Imperial authority alone. These proud military barons,--an
ever-increasing host of petty lords, since the rule of inheritance in
Germany was division among the male heirs--esteemed above all other
privileges the right of making war on each other, or on the towns, with
no other ceremony than that of three days' notice in writing
(Fehdebrief). The evils and dangers of this privilege are clear, but
they were left untouched by the Golden Bull. With the advance of
civilisation, which was ever opposed to the feudal system, this
Faustrecht had come to be regarded as intolerable by such princes,
bishops and free towns as suffered from the consequent disorder of the
country and the marauding expeditions of the free-knights. For the
residence of every baron had become, as we have seen, a fortress from
which, as his passions or avarice dictated, a band of marauders sallied
forth to back his quarrel or to collect an extorted revenue from the
merchants who presumed to pass through his domain. Princes and bishops,
abbots and wealthy merchants of the towns banded together, therefore, to
enforce the new ordinance and to suppress the petty feudatories, who,
like Götz, struggled to maintain their privilege and independence. Under
Sigismund various efforts had been made to suppress the harrying of the
knights and many robber-nests on solitary rocks were taken. When taken
the robbers, especially those of the lower class, were made short work
of and dealt with in various ways--ways best illustrated by a visit to
the torture chambers of the castle. There was one Hans Schuttensamen,
for instance, on whose head the Council put a price. A citizen of
Bamberg came forward and claimed the reward, saying he had shot him.
After he had received the money his story was found to be a stretch of
the imagination and he was burnt accordingly. Ten years later (1474) the
robber also got burnt.
So bitterly were these knights hated and feared that even the great
tourneys, such as the one recorded in 1446,[20] when all the
neighbouring nobles came in from the surrounding country and tilted and
displayed their skill and valour in the market-place, were very
unpopular with the peace-loving burghers.
Nuremberg, then, joined the Swabian League to suppress such knights as
chose still to indulge in the forbidden Club Law or Faustrecht. It was
not long before she came into direct collision with Götz von
Berlichingen of the Iron Hand. Götz, who had a fine gift for chastising
the gutter-blooded citizens of a free town, had long been anxious to try
conclusions with the men of Nuremberg. He carried out his intention on a
very futile pretext. The Nurembergers, it seems, had pursued and fought
in the adjacent woods some unknown knights, who had refused, when
challenged, to give their names as honest knights and fled. Now, some
years after, Hans von Geislingen, brother of one George, who was the
Squire of Eustace of Lichtenstein and was killed on this occasion,
demanded blood-money for his brother, and on being refused, he seized
some Nuremberg citizens and merchants' caravans. He was outlawed, but
this did not prevent Götz von Berlichingen from helping him. George, he
declared, had been his page (a statement that had the defect of being
untrue), and he demanded a large sum of money in compensation. When this
was refused Götz did not send an _Absagebrief_, or letter of notice of
war, but merely a note saying that he was considering, with his friends,
how to get compensation. His bitterness was further increased by the
action of the Council, who shortly afterwards decapitated Sebastian von
Seckendorf, a knight who had long been a source of annoyance, and whom
they had at last been successful in catching. Suddenly, and without
warning, Götz and his friends swooped down on a party of fifty-five
Nuremberg merchants who were travelling back from the fair at Leipzig,
under the escort of the Bishop of Bamberg. These he plundered and took
prisoners as they were crossing the Rednitz, near Forcheim. Götz did not
treat his prisoners too gently, but used the art of torture to persuade
them to offer huge ransoms. The news of this seizure caused
consternation and surprise in Nuremberg. Götz's letter of notice came
only nine days later to the Council. Spies were sent out to discover his
whereabouts: the town was prepared for a siege, and 800 mercenary
soldiers were hired. Götz was outlawed. But the Council were accused of
being slack to avenge, what they called "a handful of small merchants,
not of patrician families," and Maximilian was not willing to be plunged
into an Imperial war "to recover a merchant's sack of pepper." What he
did do was to attempt to bring about one of his favourite compromises.
The Markgraf was appointed to arbitrate, and his award was that
Nuremberg should pay a certain sum. As is not unusual in the case of
arbitrations, the money was not paid. Götz, laughing at the sentence of
outlawry that had been passed upon him, protected by the princes who
resented peace and order in an Empire, continued to ravage, burn and
pillage, until the Swabian League was renewed, at the end of 1512, to
keep the "eternal peace," at which Maximilian aimed. Nuremberg once more
joined the League, on Maximilian's injunction, though she distrusted the
alliance with the Markgraf thereby involved. The League, however,
decided in January 1513 to take strong measures to repress the outlawed
nobles and to destroy the castles of the robber-knights. But the Emperor
objected, and said that he wanted to arrive at a peaceful compromise
with Götz. The Nurembergers replied that they would be content if the
latter paid over a sum of money sufficient to compensate the merchants
for the losses they had suffered. At the same time they took prisoner a
robber-knight who was a friend of the Markgraf, and to procure his
release the Markgraf promised to arrange peace for them with Hans von
Geislingen. This he succeeded in doing. Götz, however, remained at war,
proud and obstinate in spite of all mediation. Again and again the
League threatened war, the Emperor temporised, and Götz plundered, until
at last Maximilian got it arranged that Götz should pay 14000 florins
damages. These were subscribed chiefly by his supporters, such as the
Bishop of Würzburg, who also persuaded him to cease from his career of
robbery.
Maximilian died in 1519. He had shown himself a good friend to the
Nuremberg artists. No doubt his patronage and his keen interest in art
and literature had been partly responsible for the good work of this
period. He was himself an author, for he had a considerable share in the
_Weisskunig_ and the _Theuerdank_--the latter, a poem which describes
allegorically the private life and ideals of the Emperor, being chiefly
executed by Melchior Pfinzing, his secretary, the Provost of St.
Sebald's and builder of the Parsonage. Of the artists, he frequently
employed Peter Vischer and Veit Stoss, whilst he showed the greatest
appreciation of Albert Durer, to whom he gave a pension of 100 florins.
When at Nuremberg in 1512 Maximilian with the aid of Willibald
Pirkheimer and others, planned a colossal _Holzschnittwerk_, or wood-cut
picture, "The Triumph," in which he himself was, as usual in the works
of art he inspired, to be idealised as the greatest of princes. Durer
was to draw part of it. Ninety-two blocks did Durer design for the
_Triumphal Arch_ in the course of the next two years. Amongst other
works for this patron we may mention _The Triumphal Car_, the
_Crucifixion_, and the ornamental borders of the famous _Book of
Hours_. Finally when Maximilian held the diet at Augsburg in 1518,
Durer, who was one of the commissioners sent by the town of Nuremberg,
drew the Emperor's portrait from the life, "in the little room upstairs
in the palace." From this sketch he painted the picture now at Vienna,
another version of which is in the German Museum at Nuremberg. Durer was
as good a courtier as artist. Melanchthon tells us how Maximilian was
endeavouring to draw a design which he wished Durer to carry out, but
kept breaking the charcoal in doing so. Durer took the charcoal and,
without breaking it, easily finished the drawing. Maximilian, somewhat
vexed, asked how this was, to which the artist replied, "I should not
like your Majesty to be able to draw as well as I. It is my province to
draw and yours to rule." _Aliud est plectrum, aliud sceptrum._ The hand
that wields the sceptre is too strong for the brush.
Maximilian was, in many aspects of his character, a typical product of
the Renaissance. Nuremberg had felt the full force of the revival of
learning, the new stimulus in art and literature which was being brought
to the West from Constantinople by the Jews and Greeks who had been
driven out by the Turks. Not a few of the knights and pilgrims, too,
must have passed through Nuremberg on their return from the Crusades,
and her growing commerce with the East and West and Italy would tend to
keep her in touch with the developments which were taking place in the
world of ideas, and which were tending inevitably towards the
Reformation. She had been among the first to welcome and to practise the
new "German art" of printing. Between 1470, when Johann Sensenschmidt
had brought Gutenberg's invention to Nuremberg, and the end of the
century, twenty-five printers received the rights of citizenship.
Johannes Regiomontanus printed here in 1472 his _Kalendarium Novum_.
But Anthoni Koberger was the most celebrated man in the trade. Over two
hundred different works, mostly in large folio, were issued from his
twenty-four printing presses before 1500. The "prince of booksellers,"
as one of his contemporaries calls him, he had agents in every country,
and sixteen depôts in the principal towns in Christendom. The first work
of art which left his presses was a magnificent illustrated Bible,
published in 1483, and printed from blocks he had obtained from Henry
Quentel of Cologne. But, besides the Bible and theology, the press
poured forth a stream of literature of every kind, spreading new ideas
with unexampled rapidity, and giving expression to thoughtful criticism
or popular satire of established abuses. Under such influences as these
it was felt that a new era of progress was at hand. Nuremberg,
stimulated by the education of self-government and of commercial
intercourse, did not fail to produce such independent humanists as
Conrad Celtes, Dr Scheurl, Lazarus Spengler, Albert Durer, Willibald
Pirkheimer, who could write as well as read, and preach as well as
applaud the doctrines of necessary reform. She was, in fact, one of the
first towns to express sympathy with Martin Luther, when he nailed his
ninety-five theses on the church door of Wittenberg, in protest against
what Erasmus had called "the crime of false pardons," the sale of
Indulgences, to which Leo X. had resorted in order to raise money for a
little war.
Luther came to Nuremberg in the course of the next year (1518) and
stayed in the Augustinerkloster. His friend Leirck, we are told, had to
buy him a new cowl, in order that he might appear in fitting costume
before the Cardinal Cajetan at Augsburg, where he was summoned to answer
for his heresies. None the less the Cardinal received at Nuremberg a
great welcome next year, and Luther's followers continued at present to
perform the rites and cling to the old forms of the Church. Reform, not
revolution, was what they still hoped for. But the stream of events
carried them rapidly with it. Willibald Pirkheimer, thanks to a satire
against Eck, the bitter opponent of Luther, was included in 1519 in the
Papal Bull, by which Luther was excommunicated. The Council, annoyed by
the excommunication of Pirkheimer and Lazarus Spengler (Clerk of the
Council), refused to interfere with the printing and publishing of
Luther's works, and gradually passed over to his side. To show how
little they respected this decree of excommunication, they actually sent
Spengler to represent the town at the Diet of Worms. For Charles V. held
his first Reichstag (1521) at Worms, and not at Nuremberg, because of an
outbreak of plague there. (Outbreaks of plague were not uncommon at
Nuremberg, nor were they surprising. For all refuse was always thrown
into the Pegnitz on the understanding that "the river would eat up all
the dirt.") It was at this Diet of Worms that Luther made his Confession
of Faith, and fought single-handed against Pope and Emperor the great
battle for the right of freedom of conscience. When, as the result, the
ban of the Empire had been passed upon him and all his works, and the
report was abroad that violent hands had been laid on him, Albert Durer,
who had followed him from the first, wrote in his diary, expressing at
the same time the opinion of the nation; "Whether he lives or whether he
has been murdered, I know not; but he has suffered for the Christian
faith and has been punished by the unchristian Papacy." That, too, was
the opinion of all the more important men in Nuremberg. Cautious in
expressing their feelings at first, after a time the people boldly
showed their dislike of monasteries and their approval of the new
movement.
"Wake up! Now may the dawn be seen;
And singing in a thicket green
I hear a tuneful nightingale,"
wrote Hans Sachs, in a poem which had no small influence in forwarding
the reformation movement. So, in many of his later prose dialogues, he
upholds liberty of conscience and freedom of opinion in religious
matters. The Council, in deference to the Emperor, made a bare pretence
of stopping the publication of Lutheran writings. So half-hearted were
they that the Papal Legate demanded that stronger measures should be
taken, and that Lutheran preachers should be imprisoned. But the Council
pursued its policy of keeping the peace between both parties, taking a
middle course and siding with neither reactionary nor revolutionary.
That policy could not be pursued for long. The Council had to yield, not
unwillingly, to public opinion. At a meeting of representatives of the
towns at Rothenburg, held there in 1524 because forbidden by Imperial
edict to meet at Spires and to discuss religious matters, Nuremberg was
very bold and "gave three brave Christian reasons" why they should not
obey this edict. She organised a further meeting of the towns at Ulm,
and for herself began to determine on a new form of worship. The
Sacrament was now administered in both kinds, and Mass was read in
German, with Lutheran omissions, by the Prior of the Augustin Monastery.
Both the Parish Churches followed his example. The Council excused
themselves for allowing this by saying that they did it to avoid an
uproar among the people. The Bishop of Bamberg held an inquiry, and
summoned the officiating priests before him. They denied his power to
judge them, and his sentence of excommunication was practically
ignored. Other towns followed the example of Nuremberg, and imitated her
Lutheran services. Meanwhile the dislike of the people for monasteries
and nunneries broke out more vehemently. The air was full of satires and
cartoons directed against nuns and monks. Hans Sachs was not silent on
this point. At last the Council ordered these institutions to be handed
over to the guidance of the Lutheran preachers. Charitas Pirkheimer, the
virtuous and accomplished abbess of the _Klarakloster_, friend and
correspondent of Durer and sister of Willibald, has left us in her
memoirs a touching account of the manner in which she was torn from her
beloved convent, over which no breath of scandal had ever passed, and
which contained many of the daughters of the best families in Nuremberg.
These memoirs are well worth looking at by those who care to see the
other side of the question, and to make the acquaintance of a beautiful
and fascinating character. Unfortunately we have no space in this little
book to deal with them here.
Shortly after this an organised discussion between the representatives
of the old and new orders of religious belief was held before the
Council. One by one, twelve points of doctrine were put to the heads of
the Lutheran, Carmelite, Augustin and Dominican bodies, and each
answered after his kind. The Catholic party finally claimed that the
decision between them should be referred to the University; but
Osiander, declaring that God's word was the only salvation, wound up the
discussion with a bold and eloquent speech, and called upon the Council
for an immediate decision. The Council gave their vote for the Lutheran
case, and thus formally threw in their lot with the Reformation. The
following year saw a whole series of decrees from the Council carrying
out Lutheran principles. Thus, chiefly no doubt in deference to the
popular demand--for these were the days of the terrible Peasant
wars--the property of the priests was ordered to be taxed. There was
little violence. The influence of the gentle Melanchthon, who came to
Nuremberg in 1525, did much to smooth down any tendency to brutality, or
harsh treatment of the monks and nuns. Even in the first flash of
religious excitement education was not neglected. The educational
movement inaugurated by Luther's letter to the towns asking them to
found schools, met with eager support at Nuremberg. Through the agency
of Hieronymus Paumgärtner and Spengler, Philip Melanchthon was induced
to come and assist at the founding of a new gymnasium for secondary
education. No expense was spared, and Melanchthon brought a brilliant
staff of teachers with him. The institution was established in the
buildings of the Ægidienkloster. But the school languished. Nuremberg,
after all, was a town of shopkeepers, and, though some were ready to pay
for masters, few were ready to pay, or spare the time, for their sons'
higher education. The school was at last moved to Altdorf, and grew into
the University there. The present gymnasium was refounded in 1633.
Melanchthon's statue, mentioned above, stands in front of the building
erected in 1711 on the site of the old monastery which together with the
church was burnt down in 1699. Conrad III. is said to have built the
church for the Benedictine Order in 1140. Three chapels remain--the
Eucharius, the Wolfgang, and the Tetzel chapels, of which the first is
the oldest, and affords an interesting example of the transition style
(see p. 260).
The Council all this time had a difficult part to play: it had to show
itself both strong and conciliatory. When the Peasants' War broke out,
Nuremberg, the capital of Franconia, was not unaffected by it though
[Illustration: ROTHENBURG]
she suffered less than her neighbours--Rothenburg for example. But the
new-found spiritual freedom preached from Lutheran pulpits was likely to
be misinterpreted by the lower classes in the town, as it had been by
the peasants outside, and construed into temporal licence. The Council,
therefore, whilst striving not to cause any irritation, had to take
strong measures to repress the outbreaks which occurred within the
walls, when the peasants, whom Götz von Berlichingen had joined, were
ravaging and rioting through the country in their barbarous struggle for
emancipation. First of all the Council very wisely expelled Thomas
Münzer, the mad, well-meaning fanatic and agitator, and then promised
the peasants to remain neutral, as long as they did not ravage her
territory or tamper with her citizens. Still, for a few months,
Nuremberg was in imminent danger. She might have fallen into the hands
of the rebels at any moment in the May of this year (1525). The Council,
realising the peril, remitted some of the tithes, as a sop to the
peasants, and sent urgent appeals for aid to the Swabian League. But the
thunder-cloud passed by without breaking over Nuremberg, and she, to her
credit be it recorded, when the revolt was crushed, was not slow to
speak on behalf of towns like Rothenburg which had taken the side of the
peasants. The result of her intervention was to preserve for us the
walls and fortifications of Rothenburg. The illustration shows the
towers and gateways there which recall the White Tower and
Lauferschlagthurm at Nuremberg.
In the later developments of the Protestant revolution, we find
Willibald Pirkheimer warmly supporting Luther with his pen, when
Zwingle, denying the Real Presence, treated the Sacrament as symbolic,
and was violently denounced by Luther for this view. Pirkheimer,
however, was no blind follower of Luther. He, remembering his sister's
case, thought the monasteries and convents too hardly treated, and he
saw, what Luther failed to see, that the peasant risings were the
inevitable results of such times of upheaval and repression. He grew
soured and disappointed with Luther. Like Scheurl, and, as he says
(1528)--
"Like Durer, I was at first a good Lutheran. We hoped things would
be better than in the Roman Church, but the Lutherans are worse.
The former were hypocrites: the latter openly live disgraceful
lives. For Justification by Faith alone is not possible. Without
works faith is dead. Luther, with his bold, petulant tongue, has
either fallen under a delusion, or else is being led astray by the
Evil One."
However, in spite of splits, the wave of Protestantism was not
diminishing. The answer to the Emperor's order that stringent measures
should be taken against the Lutheran heresy, and that the Edict of Worms
should be carried out, was, that the towns, under the leadership of
Nuremberg, banded themselves together with the Lutheran princes, and at
the Diet of Spires (1526) it was decreed that "Each State should, as
regards the Diet of Worms, so live, rule, and bear itself as it thought
it could answer to God and the Empire."
From this decree, which was an acknowledgment of the temporary breakdown
of Roman Catholicism, resulting from the Emperor's quarrel with the
Pope, came the division of Germany into Catholic and Protestant States.
Next year, when the Bishop of Bamberg commanded the priests of Nuremberg
to observe the Roman Catholic ceremonies, the Council, whom he asked not
to interfere with the carrying out of his order, were able to point to
this Edict. In order, however, to be secure from the Swabian League,
which was hostile to the new teaching, Nuremberg, Augsburg, Ulm, and
other towns, bound themselves together and protested against any
interference, on the part of the League, in religious matters.
But in 1529 the Emperor had settled his quarrel with the Pope and
returned to his loyalty to Rome. Taking advantage of this, the Papal
party succeeded in passing a decree in the Reichstag confirming the
Edict of Worms. The Lutheran princes protested against the decree, and
so earned the name of "Protestants." The Protestant communities
assembled in Nuremberg, and sent a representative to the Emperor, who
was in Italy, to complain. The Emperor, however, took a firm tone with
them and declared the dispensation of Spires at an end. Philip von
Hessen and other zealous leaders were now very eager to make a firm
stand and to form a Protestant union against this fresh attempt to
suppress the new teaching. But the Lutherans could not bring themselves
to work with the Zwinglians. The influence of Luther and Osiander was
sufficient to deter Nuremberg from joining in such a scheme. Wisely or
not, she refused to belong to any union which might bring her into
conflict with the head of the Empire. But, though she said she would not
take up arms, she knew her own mind in religious matters. At a Reichstag
held at Augsburg (1530) the Emperor was to be present. Owing to the
exertions of the Nuremberg Council, the Evangelical party united to send
the celebrated "Confession," or statement of Lutheran doctrines, which
was drawn up by Luther and Melanchthon, signed by Nuremberg and
Reutlingen, and read to Charles. The representatives of Nuremberg also
took with them a confession of faith, drawn up under the direction of
the Council by Nuremberg theologians. A peaceful solution of the
question was what they aimed at: a recognition of religious freedom
brought about by argument, not by arms. For this reason, and because she
had a great distrust of the Protestant princes ("The princes are
princes," it was said, "and if anything happens they will withdraw their
heads out of the noose and leave the towns in the lurch") Nuremberg
would not join "the league of Schmalkalden," formed by the Protestant
princes to defend themselves from that crushing of the Lutheran heresy
by the Imperial power, which the Diet now threatened. This league, in
spite of Luther's protest against opposition to the civil power, would
have led at once to war, had not a Turkish invasion of Austria diverted
Charles' attention. Something like a religious truce was proclaimed, and
Nuremberg sent a double contingent of men to help Charles.
It was, perhaps, in recognition of this proof of loyalty that Charles,
on his way to Regensburg in 1541, held the Reichstag at Nuremberg for
the first time. The town on this occasion was in a great state of
festivity. The roads were strewn with sand; festoons and hangings
brightened the streets which were lined by 5000 armed citizens. Bells
were rung and cannon fired as Charles, clothed in black, with a felt hat
on his head, rode into the town, beneath a magnificent red velvet canopy
held by eight members of the Council in turn. He passed beneath a
triumphal arch which had been erected near Neudörfer's house, in the
Burgstrasse. In the Rathaus a solemn act of homage was performed, and
the Emperor confirmed all the privileges of the town. Costly gifts were
lavished on him; fireworks were let off from the bastion then being
built (see p. 115). The Council, in fact, though they would concede
nothing, even at the Emperor's request, on the religious question,
showed themselves loyal and conciliatory. The bells of the principal
churches were ordered to be rung at noon, to remind all good Christians
to pray for protection against the Turks, the arch-enemies of
Christianity. This ringing, called _Betläuten_, still takes place.
The Civil War, which was the inevitable result of the formation of the
Schmalkalden League, had only been postponed. The Emperor and the
Catholic princes tried to reduce the Protestant princes to obedience,
with the aid of Spanish soldiery, soon after the death of Luther. Though
Charles had said he was going to attack the princes and not the towns,
the northern towns promised help to the princes. Nuremberg, however,
determined to obey the Emperor; she strove, in fact, to pursue, so far
as possible, her usual policy of inactive neutrality. Money was paid to
the Emperor: but, when urgent appeals for help came from the princes,
the Council sent them privately a sum of money, but would take no
further step for the Evangelical cause at present. The sympathy of the
majority was, indeed, with the League, but they shrank from risking all
the great wealth and privileges of the town for the common welfare and
for the freedom of religious belief. _Nürnberg trage auf beiden achseln_
was the bitter sneer of the day. The temper of her citizens was sorely
tried when the Emperor's ill-behaved Spanish troops were quartered on
them. Still, money was supplied loyally enough to the Imperial treasury.
In religious matters they remained steadfast, politely but firmly
forbidding the Emperor's Confessor to read Mass to the nuns in the
Katharinenkirche.
The result of Charles' campaigns against the princes was to leave him
apparently more powerful than any Emperor since Charlemagne. We can
hardly wonder if, in the Reichstag of 1547, he tried to get himself
recognised as supreme head of the Empire, not only in political, but
also in religious matters. A year later he appointed a Commission which
published the "Interim," establishing a half-and-half religion for all
not of the Roman Catholic faith. It was called the strait-waistcoat of
German Protestantism. Papacy was thereby almost reintroduced. The work
of Luther seemed entirely undone. This attempt at repressing Evangelical
teaching roused the Nurembergers. Sermons thundered from the pulpit, and
the Council was severely criticised. None the less they accepted the
"Interim." Osiander resigned his post and shook the dust of Nuremberg
from off his feet. Others followed his example. But, in spite of
protest, the Catholic reaction was, for the moment, successful. It could
not last. The Spanish yoke was in itself intolerable. In 1552 the revolt
of the princes, in alliance even with France, began. The Council pursued
its old policy of neutrality--a policy destined this time not to pay.
Money was contributed to the princes: devotion to the Emperor was
expressed. So they thought they were safe. But the Markgraf of
Brandenburg, Albert Alcibiades, who had declared for the Protestant
cause, held only to the princes' manifesto, that those who were not for
them were against them. He turned his eyes on his old enemy, and seized
the merchant-trains that were leaving the city in fancied security.
Then, suddenly in May, he appeared with a strong force before
Lichtenau--a castle and mart belonging to Nuremberg. The place fell into
his hands, was burnt and razed to the ground. Next day he sent a
message, bearing the Bourbon arms, to express his surprise that he had
received no help from Nuremberg. In the name of the King of France and
of the allied princes who "purposed to bring back and keep liberty in
the dear Fatherland, and to establish a right and true Christian
religion," he demanded whether the town intended to join the league
against the Emperor or not. She referred to her dealings with the
princes. But the Markgraf, ignoring this subterfuge, moved on the city,
and the Council, seeing that he was set on war, determined to stand a
siege, and strained every nerve to strengthen the fortifications. The
princes, indeed, remonstrated with the Markgraf; but in vain. He
advanced, ravaging the villages, taking castles, burning and plundering
all he could lay his hands on in his drunken and murderous march. When
he arrived beneath the walls of Nuremberg, a truce of eight days was
arranged till the Markgraf could hear from Francis I. of France.
Meanwhile he busied himself with throwing up entrenchments. But before
the eight days had expired, he opened fire on the city. Some
cannon-shots struck the Ægidienskirche, in which a service was being
held. One house in the Ægidiensplatz still bears the marks of shot that
struck it on this occasion, says Dr Reicke. Meanwhile Nuremberg was not
slow to defend herself. Her citizens returned the fire with energy, and
made some successful sallies. Gold they seem to have used as well as
steel; for the Markgraf, after one or two experiments, declared that he
would hold no more parleyings with the Nurembergers, for that they had
tried to corrupt one of his commanders.
The position of Nuremberg was now very serious. No help was to be
expected from any quarter. When, therefore, the towns of Franconia and
Swabia came forward at last to act as intermediaries, she welcomed them
with every feeling of relief, and was easily persuaded to join,
nominally, at any rate, the league against the Emperor. The Markgraf's
_casus belli_ was now gone; but his demands knew no bounds. He insisted
on a huge indemnity and the right to garrison the town. In face of this,
continued resistance was the only course for Nuremberg. The siege began
again with renewed vigour. The Markgraf, who boasted, between his
curses, that murder and burning were his favourite pastimes, now
thoroughly enjoyed himself. He destroyed, in this war, 3 monasteries, 2
small towns, 170 villages, 19 castles, 75 estates, 28 mills, and 3000
acres of wood. The position of Nuremberg thus became more and more
difficult. Her trade and buildings were suffering severely: the forest
was being burnt down. The lukewarmness with which she had espoused their
cause made it not worth while for the princes to relieve her. The
Markgraf, on the other hand, had received numerous reinforcements, and
had won over the neighbouring towns to his side. At last, therefore,
Nuremberg yielded on these terms (June 9, 1552):--
(1) She was to join the League on the same terms as Augsburg and
the other towns.
(2) She was to demand no compensation for injuries inflicted.
(3) She was to pay a large indemnity in cash and war material.
(4) The Markgraf was to give back all the castles, etc., which he
had taken.
(5) Matters in dispute between the two parties were to be decided
by a commission of princes.
So, for a moment, ended this disastrous war, only to break out again
with variations in the following year, until the Emperor, who had
entered into treaty with the League, declared the Markgraf outlawed and
bade the four Rhenish electors to carry out the sentence. For the
Markgraf had refused to enter into this treaty, which, seeing that the
money and lands he had won in the name of religion and liberty were not
guaranteed to him by it, he denounced as a betrayal of the German nation
and carried on the war on his own account. His power was broken at last
in a battle with the allies near Schwarzach.
Nuremberg paid a _douceur_ to the Emperor and was excused from her
obligations to the Markgraf, whose lands were sequestered. It is amusing
to find that, in spite of this, the Markgraf's rightful heir, George
Frederick, succeeded him and actually obtained through the Emperor
compensation from the allies for the damage done to his property. Hence
arose a fresh series of quarrels with Nuremberg.
The hatred of Nuremberg for the Elector Albert is expressed in the
unsparing satire of Hans Sachs, in which the full bitterness of ruthless
patriotism finds vent. This poem is of so violent a nature that the
Council suppressed it, but a copy is still preserved in the library. It
was written in 1557 after the Markgraf's death, and describes the
descent into hell of this "blütiger Kriegsfürst." A spirit appears to
Hans and bids him accompany him for the purpose of seeing how the soul
of a bloodthirsty warrior goes to--heaven,
"Ich will dir zeigen ein Kriegsfürsten
Den allezeit hart nach blut ward dürsten
Welcher schier das ganze Deutschland
Mit Krieg erweckt--hat durch sein hand
Wollauf rund kom bald mit dar
Schan wie sein sel gen Himmel far,"
and shows the reception the Markgraf gets there from the soldiers he has
not paid, the citizens and peasants, with their wives and children, whom
he has robbed and ruined, and the wretched men whom he has forced to
murder the helpless and innocent.
The result of the treaty we have mentioned above was that the "Interim"
was revoked. Religion was declared free. Three years later came the
peace of Augsburg, with its legal recognition of the Protestant States
and its system of toleration--_cujus regio, ejus religio_--not of the
sort to avert the evils of the Thirty Years War.
[Illustration: PELLERHOF]
Nuremberg was now at last at peace and kept on good terms with the new
Emperor. But the Hapsburg emperors seldom visited her. In 1570, however,
the Emperor Maximilian II. was welcomed with such pomp and jubilation as
had greeted Charles V. On this occasion the records mention the novelty
of an elephant bearing a gold and grey canopy with a Moorish _mahout_.
Again we are told that when the Emperor Matthias, then King of Bohemia,
stayed in the town in 1612, on his way to be crowned King of Rome, he
was lodged, not in the Castle but in the Ægidienplatz. The house of
Martin Peller was intended for his residence, but to this the King's
chamberlain objected on the ground that the Queen did not care for that
style of architecture and decoration. This house, on the north side of
the Ægidienplatz, is a very fine specimen of rich Florentine,
Renaissance building. It is interesting to observe how the façade has
been adapted to the old German high-pitched roof. It was built in 1605
by Jakob Wolff, and is now used for the art and furniture show-rooms of
Herr J. A. Eysser. Within will be found a grand hall, court and
staircase, carved and decorated in the same rich style, and upstairs a
beautifully panelled room.
The policy of the town during this period was purely defensive. The wars
with the Markgraf had cost Nuremberg dear, and she now set herself to
recover from their disastrous effects. Her history for the next few
years is a record of peace and of commercial and architectural activity.
The great new building of the Rathaus was begun in the year 1622 by
Jakob Wolff, the younger. The outbreak of the Thirty Years War prevented
it from ever being really completed.
With regard to religious matters peace was preserved outwardly. Whilst
the struggles between the Catholics and Protestants and Lutherans and
Calvinists and various other sects were being stubbornly fought out
elsewhere, the Nuremberg Council was content to forbid the propagation
of false doctrines by word or writing. _Cujus regio, ejus religio_. They
rejected the _Konkordienformal_ drawn up at Magdeburg and directed
against Melanchthon and his followers. And in 1573 they, in conjunction
with the Markgraf, published a sort of Confession of Faith, consisting
of various Lutheran and other theological works, which was signed by the
clergy and accepted as a sort of rule for the churches. It was called
the Nuremberg Konkordienbuch--_Libri Normales_--and every priest was
required to swear to conform to it.
Perhaps one of the most important occurrences for Nuremberg, in
connection with these theological matters, was the founding of the
University of Altdorf (south-west of Nuremberg). Joachim Camerarius, we
are told, suggested to Joachim Haller, the superintendent of the
Nuremberg schools, that he should form a new school on the pattern of
the monastic schools in Saxony, at which youths were prepared for the
University. This school was to be outside the town, so that there
should be no distractions to interfere with the work of the students.
The Council approved of the scheme. The school was founded and endowed,
and Melanchthon's institution at St. Ægidien's was moved there. In 1622
the Emperor raised it to the rank of a University. Among the most famous
of its _alumni_ was Goethe's grandfather. Leibnitz received his degree
as doctor-of-law, and Oberst von Pappenheim and the great Wallenstein
matriculated there. But whilst Pappenheim became rector for a short
period, Wallenstein, by reason of his wild excesses, was requested to
leave after a residence of five months. The University, however, after a
chequered career, fell at last on evil days: the new University of
Erlangen proved too powerful a rival on her borders, and in 1809 the old
University of Altdorf was by royal order abolished.