This book is DUE on the date stamped below' JUfV 3 195C OCT 2 8 1950 MAY 14 1952 RECEIVED f •i^jev;s ^WLsm ^01^ 10n(-8,'32 )98 'i THE COMMERCE OF CHRISTENDOM THEMAJN LINES OF TRADE 'ReJ THEDISTRICTOFTHE HANSE & FREE GERMAN TOWNS Sbipe/iJu'J Alitvv'Hrp «Sf Kru^es Ol/t tiilt'/ffin MANUFACTURING DISTRICTS. Woollen Linen Silk Blue Supplied with Wool from England, Spain and -Se«se, and Corn from France and the ports mi the Baltic— Exporting Woollen goods all over Christendom. Gveen In close connection with the Woollen. Yellow In Italy, Sicily, Catalonia, lyyona, <&c. These Distrieis supjjlieii with Woollen goods from the north hy sea and by the Overland Commerce through Germany to Venice. THE ERA PROTESTANT REVOLUTION BY FREDERIC SEEBOHM AUTHOR OF ' THE OXFORD KEFORMBRS — COLET, ERASMUS, AND MORE* SECOND EDITION With Notes on Books \n Engl sh relating to the Reformation, bj Geo. P. Fisher, D.D., Professor of Ecclesiastical History in Yale College, author of " History • J . , „ fj^ i/^^ Re/pri'iaiion y Sec. , NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1894 ^^ ^S70 C O f5 • "^ SUMMARY, PART 1. STATE OF CHRISTENDOM. CHAPTER I. Introductory. (a) The Small Extent of Christendom . — Smaller than it once haQ been. The Mohammedan power checked in the West, bu* -snciv^aoh- ing from the East. Kinship between Christians, Mohammedsns, and Jews, but they hate one another f (h) The Signs of New Life in Christendom. — Influence of the cru- saders. Inventions. Fall of Constantinople. Revival of learning. Printing. . . . . 3 (c) The Widening of Christendotn. — Moors driven out of Spain. Dis- covery of America. New way to East Indies. Men's minds prepared for great events. .......... 4 {d) The Ne^u Era one of Progress in Civilization. — What civiliza- tion IS. The old Roman civilization. Its main vice Modern civilization. Its strength. The crisis of the struggle between the old and the new order of things. Plan of this book. • • • 5 CHAPTER II. THB POWERS BELONGING TO THE OLD ORDER OP THINGS, AND GOING OUT. (d) The Ecclesiastical System. — The Ecclesiastical Empire. Rome its capital. Independent of the civil power. The monks. Power of the ecclesiastical system, by its influence over the people, by its wealth, by the monopoly of learning and political influence, which all centred in Rome. This Empire will be broken up in the Era {b) The Scholastic System. The learned world talked and wrote in Latin, and belonged to the clergy. This made learning scholastic, shackled science, and religion also, and kept them from the com- mon people Necessity of mental freedom. The Universities. Students pass from one to another. The result of this in the days of Wiclif. Will be repeated in the new Era. The work of the Era vi Summary. FAGEi ic) The Feudal System and the Forces which were breaking it up.— It divided countries into petty lordships. Decay of the feudal system. Subjection of feudal lords to the Crown. Increasing power of the Crown. The growth of commerce. Trade of the Mediterranean. The manufacturing districts. The fisheries. The commerce of the Hanse towns. Bruges and Antwerp the central marts of commerce. Lines of maritime, inland, and overland trade. The towns had mosdy got free. Why the towns hated feudalism and favored the Crown. The feudal peasantry once were more free than afterwards under the feudal system. Where the central power was weakest, feudal serfdom lingered longest. The towns and commerce favoured Ireedom ol the peasantry . . . , i6 CHAPTER III. THE MODERN NATIONS WHICH WERE RISING INTO POWER. (a) Italy. — Italy not a united nation. Rome, according to Machiavelli, the cause of her disunity. Rome a centre of rottenness. Dante and Petrarch described her vices. Recent Popes bad men. Alex- ander VI. and Csesar Borgia Their crimes. Effect of Papal wickedness. Main divisions of Italy. Papal States. Venice. Florence. Milan. Naples. Papal politics the ruin of Italy by promoting invasion by France and Spain. 33 (3) Germany. — Germany had not yet attained national imity. The emperor claimed to be Ci. — Spain was becoming the first power in Europe. Power of the nobles. Driven into the north by the Moors. Reconquest of Spain from the Moors, except Granada which held out. Kingdoms of Castile and Arragon united under Ferdinand and Isabella. Spain thenceforth tends to become an absolute monarchy. Conquest of Granada. Ferdinand's policy to complete Spain on the map Co- lumbus. Foreign policy. Royal marriages. Success of these alliances. Domestic policy. Subjugation of the nobles. The Inquisition. Banishment of the Jews. Independent policy towards Rome. Colonial policy. Christianity introduced into the New World, but slavery with it 35 \d) France. — How all France had grown into one nation. France claimed Milan, and Naples also This union of all F'rance the re- sult of the crown being hereditary, primogeniture, and intermarriage with the royal family. The towns. Final struggle of the Crown with Burgundy. English conquests at an end. The English wars had helped to unite the nation and increase the power of the Crown ; but there were seeds of disunion within. The crown had become Summary. vii absolute. Royal taxes without consent of the people. Royal stand- ing army. The noblesse a privileged untaxed caste. The peasantry not serfs, but taxed, paying rents, and tithes, and taille. Their grievances. The middle-class leave the country for the towns. Se- paration of classes the main vice in French polity. Love of foreign wars the chief vice in her policy. ...... 41 (c) England. — The English nation had for long been consolidated. The nobility not a caste. Importance of the middle classes of citizens and yeomen. The Crown and all classes subject to the laws. The government a constitutional monarchy, i. e. the king could make no new laws and levy no taxes without consent of parliament. The ecclesiastics not altogether Englishmen, but held large possessions. The Pope also drew revenues from England. The peasantry had got free from feudal servitude and were becoming a wage earning class. Freedom did not necessarily make them materially better oft. They had no share in the government, but there was nothing in the laws to prevent their getting it. Henry VII. was a Welshman, and landed in Wales. His throne precarious. Other claimants. Lam- bert Simnel. Perkin Warbeck. Henry VII. 's foreign policy was alliance with Spain. Hence the marriage with Catherine of Arragon. Henry VII.'s domestic policy. His position as regards Parliament. His minister. Cardinal Morton. Order maintained. Middle class favoured. The way paved for the union of England and Scotland. The Welsh finally conciliated, and England's colonial empire begun. The tomb of Henry VII 48 CHAPTER IV. THE NEED OF REFORM AND DANGER OF RBVOLUTION. \a) The Necessity for Reform. — Italy and Germany not yet united na- tions. The lack of international peace and justice. The serfdom of the German peasantry still continued. The ecclesiastical ajid scholastic systems needed reform. The alternatives were reform or revolution. ...... .... [b) The Train laid for Rez'olution. — Chiefly among the German peas- antry. Their ecclesiastical as well as feudal grievances. Contem- porary testimony. Successful rebellion of the Swiss In 1315, and the peasants of the Graubund 1441 — 71. Unsuccessful rebellion of the Lollardsand Hussite wars 1415 — 1436. Threats of rebellion in Fran- conia in 1476. The Bundschuh . Rebellion in Kempten 1492. In Elsass 1493. Both again in 1501-2. In the Black poorest 1512-13, under Joss Fritz. In 1514 in WUrtemberg and the Austrian Alps. The Swabian league of nobles against the peasants. Far and wide the train was laid for future revolution. The train laid not where serfdom was at its worst, but where freedom was nearest in sight. viii Summary. PART II. THE PROTESTANT REVOLUTION, CHAPTER I. . REVIVAL OF LEARNING AND REFORM AT FLORENCE. PAGB \a) TTie Revivers of Learning at Florence. — The Republic of Flor- ence. Power in the hands of the Medici. Cosmo de' Medici 1389 -1464. Lorenzo de' Medici 1448-1492. Florence the Modern Athens. Michael Angelo. The Platonic Academy, Ficino, Politian, and Pico della Mirandola. Semi pagan tendencies of the revival of learning. 68 {b) The great Florentine Reformer , Girolamo Savonarola, 1452-1498. — He becomes a religious reformer. Made Prior of St. Mark at Florence. Stirs up in the people the spirit of reform and freedom Death of Lorenzo and Innocent VHL The French Invasion of Italy. The Medici expelled. The republic restored. Savonarola's reforms. He becomes fanatical. Is martyred by order of Pope Alexander VI. .... yi () The Sale of Indulgences. — Leo X.'s scheme to get money by in- dulgences. Offers princes a share in the spoil. Erasmus writes bitterly against it, but pope and kings will not listen. (c) Luther s Attack on Indulgences. — Tetzel comes near Wittenberg selling Indulgences. Luther's theses against indulgences. He is backed by the Elector of Saxony. Philip Melanchthon comes to Wittenberg. {d) The Election of Charles V. to the Empire C1519'). — Death of Maxi- milian. Candidates for the Empire. Charles V. elected through the influence of the Elector of Saxony. Extent of Charles V.'s rule. ............ \e) Luther's Breach vith Rome. — Luther finds himself a Hussite. Rumoured Papal Bull against Luther. Luther's pamphlet to the nobility of the German nation, and another on the ' Babylonish Captivity of the Church.' The Bull arrives. .... \f) The Elector of Saxony consults Erasmus , Dec 6, 1520. — Aleander, the Pope's nuncio, tries to win over the Elector of Saxony. The Elector asks advice of Erasmus. The advice of Erasmus. The Elector follows it, and urges moderation on Luther. 'if) Luther burns the Pope' s Bull. Dec. 10, 1520, notwithstanding the cautions of the Elector. Erasmus fears revolution. . . X Summary. CHAPTER IV. THE CRISIS. — REFORM OR REVOLUTION. — REFORM REFUSEU BY THE RULING POWERS. PAGB [a] Ulrich von Hutten and Franz von Sickingen. — The Robin Hoods of Germany side with Luther. Ulrich von Hutten. His satire upon Rome. His German popular rhymes against Rome. De- mands freedom. Small chances of Reform. .... 113 (3) The Diet 0/ Worms tneets 2Sth yamcary , 1521. — ' Agenda ' at the Diet of Worms : to stop private war, to settle disputes, to provide central power in the Emperur's absence, and to take notice of the books of Martin Luther. No hope for the peasantry'. Brief from Rome about Luther. The Electors hesitate to sanction the edict against Luther. Hutten adjures the Emperor not to yield to Rome. Luther summoned to Worms. . 115 (c) Luther's journey to li'onns (1521). Luther's Antithesis of Christ and Antichrist. Luther sets off for Worms. His journey. Popular excitement. Luther's heroic firmness. He enters Worms. . IJ5 ( universal em- electing an English Emperor, they would shadowy. not be departing from the German toiigue. On other occasions he took care to insist that England, however Saxon in her speech, had never been subject to the Empire. So the claim to universal sovereignty was very shadowy indeed. When a vacancy occurred, the new Emperor was elected under the ' Golden Bull' of 1356, by seven Prince Electors, viz. : [On the Rhine]. The three Arch- bishops of Mayence, Treves, and Cologne, and the Count Palatine of the Rhine. [On the Elbe]. The king of Bohemia, the Ejector of Saxony, the Margrave of Brandenburg. The ceremony of coronation showed the feudal nature ot the Empire. When elected, the Emperor attended high mass. Then the Archbishop of Mayence, as- , , , , sisted by Cologne and Treves, demanded The feudal . , . "^ *= . ' ceremony. of him, ' Will you maintain the Catholic faith ? ' ' 1 will.' Then he demanded of his brother electors, ' Will you recognize the elected as How elected. ^\.^ ^■^- \ _ \ THE SEVEN PRINCE ELECTOR.^ CH. III. Germany. 29 Emperor ? ' ' So be it.' Then he was robed in the robes, girt with the sword, and crowned with the crown of Charleinagne. Then came the banquet. The King of Bohemia, in true feudal fashion, was the imperial cup- bearer ; the Count Palatine carved the first slice from the roasted ox ; the Duke of Saxony rode up to his stir- rups into a heap of oats, and filled a measure with grain for his lord ; and lastly, the Margrave of Brandenburg rode to a fountain and filled the imperial ewer with water. When elected, the Emperor had little real power in Germany ; and, indeed, as time went on he seemed to have less and less. Once large domains had belonged to the Emperor: some in Italy, some on the Rhine. But former emperors had lost or ceded the Italian estates to ^^ . • , , No imperial do- Italian nobles and cities during struggles mains. with the Popes ; while those on the Rhine had been handed over to the Archbishops of Mayence, Treves, and Cologne, who were Electors, to secure votes and political support. For some generations there had been no imperial domains at all ; not an inch of territory in Germany or Italy came to the Emperor with his impe- rial crown. The Emperor was therefore reduced to a mere feudal headship. Nor had the Emperor, as feudal heatd, much power in Germany. He found it very hard to get troops or money from the German people. Maximi- ^ „ . . , ^ . Small imperial Han, the reigning Emperor, was notoriously power. poor, and declared that the Pope drew a hundred times larger revenue out of Germany than he did. He was a powerful sovereign in Europe because he was head of the Austrian house of Hapsburg, which «vas rising into great power in Europe by its alliances. Already possessed of Austria and Bohemia, Maxi- 3© State of Christendom. PT. I. milian had married Mary of Burgundy, and the Nether- ^, ^ lands. His son Philip thus was heir-appa- 1 he hmperor Maximilian, rcnt to thosc provinccs as well as Austria. House oi "^ Philip married Joanna, daughter of Isabella Hapsburg. ^f gp^in . ^^d SO their son Charles became heir to Spain also. Thus was the House of Hapsburg pushing itself into power and influence. The German Empire was the crowning symbol of their power rather than the reason of it. In the case of Maximilian, it was the power of Austria that made the German Emperor great. By-and-by, as we shall see, when Charles V. of ,„ , „ Austria, Spain, and the Netherlands rises to Charles V. > r ' the Empire and becomes the most powerful prince in Europe, it is by Spain, not Germany, that he wields his still greater influence. The power of the Emperor was far less in Germany than in his own domains, for in Germany his power was checked by the Diet or feudal parliament of the Empire. ^, ^. The Diet was a feudal, not a representative The Diets. , . r i i parliament; t. e. only the Emperor s feudal vassals had a claim to attend and vote in it. The Diet met and voted in three separate houses: 1. The Electors (except the King of Bohemia, who had no voice except in the election of an Em- peror). 2. The Princes, lay and ecclesiastical. 3. The Free Imperial Cities {/. e. those cities which held direct of the Emperor). The Electors and Princes had most power. Only what was agreed upon by them was last of all submitted to the House of Cities. To secure the carrying out No power to i 1 enforce their of the decrees of the Diets, there had also recently been some attempts at an organiza- tion of the Empire. It was divided in circles for the CH. III. Germany. 31 maintenance of order; but this, though plausible on pa- per, had little effect in reality, because the Diets had no real power to enforce their decrees. Germany was, in fact, still under the feudal system — still divided up into petty lordships — more rp, . , , so than perhaps any other country ; certainly tem still pre- more so than England, Spain, or France. One reason for this was, as we have seen, that the German law of inheritance divided the lordships between the sons of a feudal lord on his death; so „ , ,. . . , subdivision ot there was constant subdivision, and in con- lordships by , . lawof inherit- sequence an ever-mcreasing host of petty ance. sovereignties. The mass of the feudal lords were petty and poor, and yet proud and independent, resisting any attempts of the powers above them, whether Emperor, or Diets, or Princes, to control them. They feuds'^"' ^'^"^ claimed the right of waging war; and, by their petty feuds, the public peace was always being broken. They lived a wild barbarian life in times of peace (/. e. when not at feud with some neighbouring lord), de- voted to the chase, trampling over their tenants' crops, scouring the woods with their retainers and their dogs. In times of war and feuds, with helmets, breastplates, and cross-bows they lay in ambush in the forests watching an enemy, or fell upon a train of merchants on the roads from some town or city with which they had a quarrel. They became as wild and lawless as the wolves. Gotz von Berlichingen (popularly known as 'Gotz with the Iron Hand'), and Franz von Sickingen were types ol this wild knighthood. They were champions of fist-law (faust-recht). They called it pri- of^the^^" vate war. but it was often plunder and pillage '^"'R^'^- 32 State of Christendom. pt. i. by which they lived. Gotz was indeed more hke the head of a band of robbers than anything else. He one day saw a pack of wolves fall upon a flock of sheep. ' Good luck, dear comrades,' said GotT, 'good luck to its all and everywhere!' These lawless knights were indeed like wolves, and, just as much as the wild animals they hunted, belonged to the old order of things, which must go out to make way for advancing civilization. The free towns of Germany were her real strength. The citizens were thrifty, earned much by their com- Thc towns of fierce, spent little, and so saved much. Germany. Each citv was a little free state (for they had mostly thrown off their feudal lords), self-governed, like a little republic, fortified, well stored with money in its treasury, a year's provisions and firing often stored up against a siege. The little towns were of course de- pendent in part on the peasantry round, buying their corn, and in return supplying them with manufactured goods. But the bigger towns lived by a wider commerce, and held their heads above the peasantry. Above all, they hated the feudal lords, whose feuds and petty wars and lawless deeds put their commerce in Their leagues -i t i j j • .. .. for mutual peril. 1 WO hundred years ago, sixty towns eence. ^^ ^^ Rhine had leagued themselves to- gether to protect their commerce. After that had come the league^ of the Hanse Towns, chiefly in the North of Germany, but including Cologne and twenty-nine adja- cent towns, and aiming at defending commerce from robberies by land as well as piracy by sea. They had to form these leagues because Germany was divided and without a real head — not yet a nation— 1 See the Map of Commerce. CH. III. Germany. 33 thoucrh all that was good and ereat in it was ,„ 1 . r t Want of a sighing for npore national life, for a central central power ^ ^. I ^ , . .to maintain representative power strong enough to main- the public tain the puljlic peace, but hitherto sighing p'^^'^^- in vain, finding in her Emperor little more help than Italy found in he^ Pope. No class in Germany had suffered more from want of a central power than the peasantry. They still were in feudal serfdom. While in other countries, „, The con- where there was a well-established central ditionofthe 1 1 /• I 1 J peasantry government, the lot of the peasantry had growing improved and serfdom almost been got rid harder for'^ of, here in Germany their lot had grown want of a central power. harder and harder for want of it. The German peasant, or ' Bauer,' was still a feudal tenant. In many ways he was no doubt better off than a labourer for wages. His house was no mere labourer's cottagf^ — it was a little farm. He had about him his land and his live stock, his barn and his stack. Under the same roof with his family his cows and pigs lay upon their straw and he upon his bed. On the raised cooking hearth the wood crackled under the great iron pot hung on its rack from the chimney-hood above, while sauce- pans and gridirons, pewter dishes and pitchers with their pewter lids were hung upon the walls ; the oak table and coffee were heirlooms with his house and his land. In mere outward comforts many a free peasant, working for wages and having no land to till for himself, would gladly have changed places with him ; but behind all was his thraldom to his feudal lord. He had traditions of old and better days, when he was far more free, when his services were not so hard and the exactions of his lord not so great. But in Historj- of 1 r , 1 T^i 1 T^ 1 1 1 the German the fourteenth century the Black Death had 'Bauer.' D 34 State of Christendom. pt. i. thinned the population of Germany and made labour scarce. In other countries, where the law of the land had fixed the amount of the services, and where the influence of commerce had substituted money- payments for services, this scarcity of labour strengthened the peasant in his struggle for freedom. But in Germany, where there was no law to step in, and where services continued, the scarcity of labour was only likely to make the lords insist all the more upon their performance; and so they had encroached more and more on the peasants' rights, enacted more and more labour from them, in- creased their burdens, robbed them more and more of their common rights over the pastures, the wild game, and the fish in the rivers, grown more and more inso- lent, till the peasants in some places had sunk almost into slavery. It was galling to them to have to work for their lords in fine weather, and to have to steal in their own little crops on rainy days. Small a thing as it might be, perhaps it was still more galling to receive orders on holidays to turn out and gather wild straw- berries for the folks at the Castle. Hard, too, it seemed to them when, on the death of a peasant, the lord's agent came and carried off from the widow's home the heriot or 'best chattel,' according to the feudal custom — perhaps the horse or the cow on which the family was dependent. But however bad a pass things might come to, there was no remedy — no law of the land to appeal to against „ , „. the encroachments of their lords. The Ro- Rebellion his only man civil law had mdeed been brought m reme y. ^^ ^^ ecclesiastics, and the lords favoured it because it tended to regard serfs as slaves. The serfs naturally hated it because it hardened their lot. There was no good in appealing to it. It was one of their CH. Ill Spain. 35 grievances. So the peasants of each place must fight it out with their own lords. They must rebel or submit, waiting for better days, if ever these should come ! (<:) Spain. Spain was destined to become the first power in Europe. She rapidly grew into a united nation, and during the era attained the highest point of becoming power and prosperity she ever reached : but ^'^ ^'^^ ' i 1 ^ I ^ power in she fell soon after from the pinnacle on which Europe. she then stood, and has never since risen again so high. Ever since the conquest of Spain by the Goths and Vandals, in the eighth century, it had been a feudal nation; and, as in most other feudal coun- Powerofthe tries, the power had got into the hands of ""W*^^- the feudal lords or nobles. But Spain was singular in this, that it had passed under a long period of Moham- medan rule. By the invasions of the Moors the feudal chiefs of Spain had been driven up into the mountains of the north, while probably the peasantry mostly ^ . ' r J •■ ^ ■! l^riven into remained in the conquered country, subject the north by -r^ 1 1 1 r 1 1 ^^ Moors. to the Moors. By slow degrees the feudal chiefs reconquered the northern provinces- till the Moors jfi State of Christendom. pt. I. retained only the rich southern provinces ; and as bit af- ter bit was reconquered by the nobles, it became a little independent state under the feudal chief who recon- quered it. Already, however, there had grown up in Spain the three kingdoms of Castile, Arragon, and Navarre, fa- „ - voured by the influence of the towns. Keconquest of ^ Spain from the Owing to the constant struggles going on Moors, except ^, i j i. r > i c Granada. there had been for long no safety except in the towns. These had further grown in power and importance by trade and manufactures, and had become little states — like little Venices — each with its independent government. Both in Castile and Arragon the monarch was scarce- ly more powerful than the Emperor in Germany. His power was controlled by the Cortes or par- Kingdoms of ' , . , , , , , . Castile and liament, at which met the nobles, deputies rragon from the towns, and clergy. And to the Cortes belonged the power of levying taxes and enacting laws. Such was the state of things when, by the marriage of Ferdinand of Castile to Isabella of Arragon (in 1481), all . , , Spain, except Navarre and Granada, was united under Ferdinand and united under One monarchy, and from this time the tendency was for the throne to be- more^a'tTdmore come more and more absolute. It was one absolute. of the first objects of Ferdinand and Isabella to extend the power of the monarchy. Spain had found, as the Germans had found, that without some central power it was hard to keep the peace, to protect trade and commerce, and to put down robbery and crime. The cities had united in a ' Holy Brotherhood ' for this purpose, and Ferdinand sided with them in this object. But what more than anything else CH. III. Spain. 37 counteracted the feudal tendency to separate into little petty states, and to strengthen the national feeling and make it rally round the common centre of , , , , Conquest of the throne, was the war long waged by r er- Granada, dinand, and at length successful, against the last stronghold of the Moors in Granada. In 1492 Gra- nada was taken, the 700 years' struggle ended, and the Moors driven forever out of Spain. Thus was all Spain (except the little state of Navarre, under shelter of the Pyrenees) united in one nation. The modern kingdom of Spain, thus formed, rose up at once to be one of the first powers of Europe. We have already seen how Charles VIII. of France had been invited by Pope Alexander VI. to conquer Naples. As a bribe to keep Ferdinand (who ^ , Ferdinand s had a rival claim on Naples) quiet while he policy to com- went on this raid on Naples, he had ceded ^^'^ ^^'"' to Ferdinand the little state of Perpigna7i, on the Span- ish side of the Pyrenees. Ferdinand was intent on the completion of the kingdom of Spain, and took the bribe. We shall soon find him (in 1512) obtaining possession of Navarre. In the meantime the result of the Italian wars was that he got hold of Naples ; and having the islands of Sardinia and Sicily already, he became King of the ' Two Sicilies,' as well as of Spain. Another fact added to the power of Spain. It was under Spanish auspices that Columbus discovered Ame- rica. This not only threw the gold of the mines of Peru ' into the treasuries of Spain ; it added , , , Columbus. another great laurel to her fame. It was Spain that had driven the Moors out of Western Europe ; it was Spain that enlarged Christendom by the discovery of the New World. 38 State of Christendom. pt. i. The foroisrn policy of princes in those Foreign po- o 1 ^ li.:y. Mar- davs was Very much influenced by the mar- ridgcs. riages they planned and effected for their children. Ferdinand's first aim was to get all the Spanish Pe- ninsula under the power of the Spanish Crown. So he married his eldest daughter to the King of Portugal, in hopes of some day uniting the two Crowns. This came to pass in the person of Philip II., the husband of the English Queen Mary. His next policy was to ally himself with such foreign powers as would best help him to secure his ends. There were two reasons why he did not ally himself with France. France was his rival in Italy. He had fought with France for Naples, and meant to keep it. He also wanted Navarre to complete the Spanish kingdom. France claimed it also. The aim of Spanish foreign policy was, therefore, to work against France. By the marriage of his daughter Cathcruie to the King of England, and Joanna to the heir of the rising Aus- trian House of Hapsburg, who held the Netherlands, and whose head, Maximilian I., was Emperor of Ger- many, he connected himself with the two powers who, like himself, were jealous of France — England, because part of France had so long been claimed as belonging to the English Crown— the House of Hapsbu7-g, because France had got hold of part of Burgundy (which former- ly belonged to the same Burgundian kingdom as the Netherlands). And on the whole, though his schemes Success of . , . , . ^ . , T . , these alliances, did not prosper m his iitetime, they did suc- ceed in making Spain the first power in Eu- rope during the next reign. When Queen Isabella died, Joanna became Queen of CH. III. Spain. 39 Castile. She, however, was insane, and her husband Phihp dying soon after, Ferdinand held the reins of Castile in her name as Regent. On his death, in 1516, Castile and Arragon were again united, under Charles v., and Spain became greater than ever. The domestic policy of Ferdinand and Isabella had also for its object the consolidation of Spain ■' \ Domestic po- under their throne. Their great minister licy. was Cardinal Ximenes, whose policy was to strengthen the central power of the Crown by engaging all Spain in a national war against the Moors, and by strengthening the towns (or loyal element) at the ex- pense of the feudal nobles (the disloyal element, in Spain as elsewhere). The subjugation of the no- subjugation of bles to the Crown was in a great measure the nobles, effected, and the Crown became more and more abso- lute. Not content with driving out of Spain the last rem- nant of the Mohammedan Moors, the Catho- -j-j^g inquisi- lic zeal of the king and queen and Ximenes "°"- turned itself against the Jev.-s and heretics. They founded the 'Inquisition' in Spain, which in a genera- Banishment tion burned thousands of heretics. They °^ ^^^ Jews, expelled, it is said, more than 100,000 Jews from their Spanish homes. These first took refuge in Portugal, and soon after, driven from thence, were scattered over Europe. But notwithstanding this zeal for the Catholic faith, by which Ferdinand and Isabella earned the title of 't/ie Catholic' there was no notion in the minds of Ximenes or his royal master and mistress to sacrifice Spain to Rome. They were as zealous in reforming the morals of the clergy and monks as in rooting out heresy. They de- manded from the Pope bulls enabling them to visit and 40 State of C'instc;uto:n. VT. I ►H •— O 5 "o '^ 'S §1^ k 5 J: g O « CO C "" o ^- 2^ < e Q 3 P^.S= 5 -Sll^S^J^i-i « S S .sen S "^^ ■^^ '->;S .~ ^ ^ .- '^"i. S S ii >^ »^ ^ ~ c^-S s'S '» 1^ 5 ^ S ^ ^ 8"?-5'S « =^0 Z 5>j :^g-|^ ^"5:5.5 b , . >• a ^ « "S »r- ICJ N t^ *■ ■ "*^-« ■'^3 t.'. J s 1 ^ ^ rt S rt S ^ 5 ,1c J <: -!•« a g C S K § Mo CH. III. S/ai/i. 41 reform the monasteries. They claimed the ^ , , ^ ^ Independent right in many cases of appointing their own policy to- ,., «i, 1 iirAi wardj Rome. bishops. And when the scandals ot Alexan- der VI. 's wicked reign came to their knowledge, they threatened to combine with other sovereigns in his 'correction.' One other thing we must notice. The discoveries of Columbus, followed up by the conquest of Mexico and Peru, gave to Spain suddenly a colonial em- colonial po- pire to govern. Her colonies in the New ^"^y- World were in one sense the gem in her Crown. Her dreams of wealth in gold and silver were more than realized. To have extended Christendom into a new world seemed in itself a worthy exploit to the Catholic zeal of Queen Isabella. Her royal anxiety to convert the heathen inhabitants of the new-found lands to the Catholic faith was no doubt as genuine as her anxiety to root heresy out of Spain. She sent out Catholic missionaries, but the selfishness of her Spanish colonists introduced slavery instead of Christianity. In these first Spanish colonies slavery. was begun that cruel policy by which the native races were exterminated — worked to death — and then African negroes introduced to supply their place. The introduction of slavery, and its necessary feeder — the slave trade — was a blot upon the colonial policy, not only of Spain but of Christendom. It was essentially contrary to the genius of modern civilization, and we know how great a struggle has been needful in our own times to prevent its ruining the greatest of the colonies of the New World. {d) France. Machiavelli says, 'The kings of France are dt this 43 State of Christendom. How all France had grown into one nation. THE GROWTH OF FRANCE time more rich and powerful than ever.' So they were. The dynasty of the Capets, which began before the time of the Norman conquest of Eng- land and lasted down to the 'Louis Capef (Louis XVI.) who was put to death during the French Revolution, had now ruled France for about five hun- dred years. But the France ruled by the first Capet was only the portion marked dark on the map. It was as though the King of England had ruled only York- shire. The rest of France was divided among the great Barons. These Baronies, or 'Duchies,' had gradually been ab- sorbed into the kingdom. The dates when they thus fell in are marked on the map. Now if we look at France at the begin- ning of the new era, we shall see, from comparing the two maps, how she had grown, and how she claimed now not only all France, but Milan and Naples also. She had, in fact, become the second great power in Europe, and by aiming to become the first, made herself the great rival of Spain. France claimed Milan and Naples also. FRANCE IN THE ERA cn. III. France. 43 What were the secrets of her growing power ? As we have seen, Machiav-eUi said that Italy was weaker than either Spain or France, because the latter were each of them united under one Crozun. We have now to mark the reasons given ^, . This union of by him why the Duchies of France had be- all France the come united under the Crown. (i) The Crown was not elective, as in Ger- ^ ' _ _ Crown heredi many, but hereditary in the royal family. tary; (2) The rtile of inheritatice in France was not division among all the sons, but descent p""!'"" *^ ' geniture ; to the eldest son only. (3) Intermarriages with the royal family inter- not only made the great Barons loyal to the [heTo>S ^ throne, but sometimes united their Duchies '^"''y- to the Crown under one heir; e.g. the kings of France, as heirs of the Duchies of Anjou and Orleans, claimed both those Duchies and also their rights to Na- ples and Milan. (4) The towns, as in Spain and elsewhere, had fa- voured the growth of the central power as the best means of freeing themselves from their old rjtii TVT ri 111 The towns. teudal lords. Most 01 them had long ago obtained charters of freedom, and now held only of the Crown. The final struggle of the Crown with the great feudal Barons had been concluded just before the era com- menced. It had been a hard struggle be- ^ , Final struggle tween Louis XI. and the Duke of Burgundy, of the Crown The king had prevailed, and from that time gundy."'^ the unity of France was settled. She had become powerful enough to hold her own against both internal and foreign foes. England had once claimed a great part of France, but 44 State of Christendom. pt. i. _ ,. , there was henceforth no real chance oi tnglish con- quests at her getting it back again. She could no longer find allies on French soil against France. It is true that we shall find Henry VIII. still dream- ing sometimes of reversing the decision of the ' hundred years' war ' which had ended in the withdrawal of Eng- land from all France except the town of Calais; and we shall find Spain and England combining during the era more than once to crush France. But in reality the object of these wars we shall find to be not so much the dismemberment of France as opposition to the aggressive policy of Louis XII. and Francis I., and their invasions of Italy. The hundred years' war with England had also tended to consolidate the French nation. It was a national and even popular struggle to turn out a foreign „, ^ ,. , foe. It necessitated the levying of national The English • , , / • , ware had armies and the payment of nauonal taxes. the^^ation"and It did for France, to some extent, what the increase the ^^^^ ^j^j^ ^^ Moors did for Spain: it power of the ^ Crown: strengthened the central power of the Crown, and gave it a recognized place as natural head and leader of the nation, in peace as well as in war. • But the misfortune of France was that in outwardly becoming a great nation by uniting all the Duchies under the Crown, and so enlarging the size seeds of dis- of France on the map, sad mistakes were union within, j^^^jg^ which prevented her growth in hiter- nal unity, which sowed the seeds of bitter feeling between classes, and ended in producing her Great Revolution. We cannot note too carefully these fatal mistakes, (i) The king got the power of levying taxes — the CH. III. France. 45 ' taille ' — without the consent of the people. „ Royal taxes The ' Estates General,' or French Parlia- without con- ment, which had hitherto had a voice in people, matters of taxation, hereafter had none ; the Crown became absolute. (2) The king, successful in his war ^ ^ / * Royal stand- against England, henceforth out of these ing army. taxes kept a large standing army. These things, said PJiilip de Conimiiics, the con- temporary French historian of Louis XL, 'gave a wound to his kingdom which will not soon be closed.' He was right, for these two things kept classes apart and broke up the internal unity of France. To see how they did this, let us look at each class separately. The nobility or noblesse of France were made into a permanently separate caste. In old times they paid no taille, because they gave their military services to the king in his wars. Now there was a standing army they were less and less needed as soldiers, yet their freedom from taxation remained. They were a privi- ^, 1 he noblesse leged class, and intermarried with one an- a privileged other. Their estates went down to their eldest sons, but the younger sons, too, belonged to the noblesse. So they became a very numerous class, poor, but proud of their blood and freedom from taxes. The peasantry, on the other hand, were the burdened class. In some respects they were much -pj^g peasantry better off than the German peasantry. "°' ^^^' Very early in their history feudal serfdom had been abolished in the north of France, especially in Normandy ; while in most parts their services in labour had been long 'ago changed into fixed rents, paid most often in corn, wine, or fruits. But their young crops still suf- 46 State of Christendom. pt. i. butpa-ing fered from the lord's game. They still had "■•^"^ tolls and fees and heriots to pay, and forced labour to give on the roads. They still looked up to the feudal lord as to a master, and the lord down upon them as born for service. There was an impassable barrier of blood between the two classes. The Church added her claims — her tithes, as in other countries, and tithes n r 1 and the endless tees and money payments, which made her so obnoxious. Bishops and abbots, in France as in Germany, had large estates as well as tithes, and so were landlords and princes as well as priests, drawing, Machiavelli says, two-fifths of the annual revenues of the kingdom into their ecclesiastical coffers. Lastly came the extra burden of the taille, growing with the military needs of kings who, having an army, and not content with turning out the and taille. ^ . ^ ° English and conquermg refractory barons, must needs lay claim to Milan and Naples, and invade Italy. Here is a picture drawn by the peasants themselves of their hard lot, as they complained to the States General on the accession of Charles VIIL, and laid their grie- vances before the new monarch, hoping for a remedy which never came. ' During the past thirty-four years troops have been ' ever passing through France and living on the poor Their grie- ' pcoplc. When the poor man has managed ^^"'^^^^ ' by the sale of the coat on his back, after 'hard toil, to pay his taille, and hopes he may live out 'the year on the little he has left, then come fresh troops 'to his cottage, eating him up. In Normandy multi- ' tudes have died of hunger. From want of beasts men ' and women have to yoke themselves to the carts, and 'others, fearing that if seen in the daytime they will be CH. III. France. 4^ 'seized for not having paid their taille, are compelled to ' work at night. The king should have pity on his poor 'people, and relieve them from the said taillcs and 'charges.' Alas! Charles VIII., instead of listening to their com- plaints, took to invading Italy ! increasing their taille and spilling more of their blood. When to all this we add the consciousness that while they, the much-enduring peasantry, were bearing their increasing burdens, the noblesse were free from them, can we wonder if the peasantry should learn to hate as well as envy the nobles ? The middle class in order to escape the incidents of the rural taxation more and more left the rural districts to live in the towns. Not sharing the blood or ^, ^ The middle the freedom from taille of the nobles, there class leave was no mixing or intermarrying with them. foAhe" ^ They were of different castes. Neither did '°*"'^- the men of the towns sympathize with the peasantry. They had their taille to pay like the peasantry, but under their charters they enjoyed privileges which the peasant did not. They were merchants rather than manufactu- rers. Some linen manufactures were carried on in Brittany and Normandy, but mostly France was supplied with goods from the looms of Flanders in exchange for corn and wine. The towns were the niarkets in which the products of the peasant were exchanged, and the townsmen thus had the chance of throwing a part of their burdens on their rural customers in the shape of tolls and dues. While thus the noblesse grew prouder and poorer, and the peasantry were more and more bur- dened, the middle classes in the towns grew richer and more and more powerful. Hence the gulf between different classes in France was 48 State of Christendom. pt, i. ever widening. The Crown was absolute and uncon- trolled by any parliament, the noblesse a privileged caste, the middle class settling in the towns, while the poor peasantry were left to bear their burdens alone in the „ country. France had grown a big united beparation <=> o of classes the country on the map, but looking within the main vice in . r i • 111 1 ■ 1 • i- French nation, a state oi thmgs had begun which, if P°'"^' unreformed, was sure in the end to produce revolution, though it might not come yet. In the meantime the first false steps of the absolute kings of France were those attempts at aggrandizement Love of which led them to invade I<:aly and prove '"'■'^'f" r*^"^ their strength in a long rivalship with Spain. the chief vice ° ° f v • in her policy. To gratify a royal lust for empire and mili- tary glory they were ready to sacrifice the welfare of the French people. {e') Ettgland. England had advanced further on the path of modern civilization than any other country. The tn lish "^^^ English people had long ago become nation a compact nation, with a strong central lormed. government, and with one law for all classes within it. England had passed under the feudal system, and, like other countries, had her separate feudal elements, need- ing to be blended into one compact whole. But happily in England this work had in good measure been done. Her feudal nobles, especially since the wars of the Roses, had been thoroughly subdued under the central power. Early in her history the petty feudal not\"caste.^ lords had sunk into commoners. Unlike the noblesse of France, the nobility of England was not a separate caste. The younger sons of nobles CH- III. England. 49 became commoners, while their title to nobility, as well as their estates, went to the eldest sons only. England possessed a numerous and powerful middle class, and it was not, as in France, con- fined to the towns. Landowners and yeo- ^^"idle •' classes. men in the country belonged to it, as well as the citizens and merchants. And whilst all classes, including the nobility, had been subjected to the central government, they had none of them been crushed and humbled. The , ^ The Crown Crown had not become absolute, as in also subject tc France. It, too, was subject to the laws of ^ '^^ • the land. The central power, or government, consisted of — (i) the King, (2) the House of Lords, in which the nobility had seats; and (3) the House of Commons, where the representatives of the free landholders, and of the free citizens or burgesses, sat side by side. ^, _ 1 he govern- No law could be passed without the concur- ment a const!- rence of the Crown and both Houses of Par- monarchy. liament. And the laws so passed were bind- ing alike on king, nobility, and commoners, /. e., on the whole nation. Nor could the Crown levy taxes without the consent of Parliament. The government of Eng- land was a constitutional monarchy, and had long been so. There was, however, still one class of people who were not altogether blended into the nation— the ecclesiastics or clergy. Bishops and abbots, because they were great landholders and peers of the realm, had seats in the House of Lords, just as in Germany J^^^ ecclesias. the ecclesiastical princes were Electors as well as the lay princes. In this sense they were Eng- lishmen. But the clergy in the main owed allegiance to E 50 State of Christendom. pt. i. Rome, and in spite of the Constitutions of not altogether Clarendon, were Still ru.lcd by ecclesiastical .ngisimen. j^^ ^^^ ecclcsiastical courts, and resented civil interference. So they were subjects of the great Roman ecclesiastical empire rather than of England. Their allegiance was at least divided between the Pope and the king, and often they were really foreigners. The Pope at the same time drew large revenues revenues fronT from England as well as the king. The ec- "^^" ' clesiastical power was more under control, and had been for long more restrained by law in Eng- land than anywhere else ; but still the fact was that Rome had ecclesiastical sway over England. And in England, as elsewhere, the clergy and monks had got a large part of the land into their hands — probably about one-third of the land of England belonged to them, as well as tithes from the whole. The fact that there was one law of the land made by King and Parliament, and ruling all classes in the realm (except the clergy), had, more than anything had got'^ree ^ clsc, helped the peasantry to rise out of ^ervit'^d'^^' feudal Servitude. There was no peasantry in Europe (except the Swiss) which had al- ready so completely got out of it as the English. It early became the law of the land in England that the services of the peasant could not be increased by the lord. What they had been by long custom they must not exceed. Then, by the influence of commerce, mo- ney payments were early substituted for labor service. So that people became used to money rents for land and money wages for labour. The population of England had increased very rapidly up to the fourteenth century. It was then nearly twice what it was afterwards, because the Black Death in 1349 swept away half of i^ in a few CH. III. England. 51 months. Tliis of course made labour scarce. In spite of all that the lords could do, and in spite even of Acts of Parliament passed to prevent it, there was a great rise in wages. Under the feudal law the feudal tenants might not leave their land. But now more and more they went to the towns, where they could earn higher wages than by tilling the land. There was of course a struggle to pre- vent it, but aided by the towns, the process went on. The feudal lords tried to enforce the old services, which had become so much more valuable since the Black Death. The more they did, the more their tenants deserted the land and went to the towns. The peasantry kept up a kind of strike, which came to a climax in the rebellion under Wat Tyler in 1381. They were so far successful that fixed money payments became general instead of services, and by the time of Henry VII. feudal servitude or villenage was at an end in England. Quite a new state of things had grown up. Owing to the growth of the woollen manufactures, and the demand for wool, sheep-farming had very much in- ^, •^ The preiient creased. Instead of a lot of little peasants' condition of the holdings, the large farms of the wealthy P^^*""^- sheep-owners often covered the country side. The masses of the people in England were more and more becoming a free people working for wages, while such tenants as remained on the land paid fixed money rents instead of services, and instead of being tied to the land were ejected from their holdings if they could not pay their rents. No doubt the masses of the people in Eng- land had their hardships to endure. They had suffered during the civil war of the Roses from anarchy and law- lessness and the ravages of armies. Soldiers disbanded after foreign wars disturbed the country. Small tenants 52 Siate of Christendom. pt. i. found it hard to compete with larger ones, and on faikire to pay their rents lost tlieir farms very often. The num- ber of ejections from the land added of course to the idle vagrant population. Robbery was thereby increased, ^ , ,_ and as both thieves and vagabonds were Freedom did . . not neces- hung, sometimes twenty might be seen them'better hanging from a single gibbet. All this °^- showed that the;;e were evils at work — miany things needing reform — but the English pea- santry had earned by their past struggles They had no . ^ r i ■ share in the this great advantage : mstead of bemg butlhenf"'' scrvilc tenants of feudal lords, they were was nothing f^gg subjects, protected by the law of the to prevent j • i. j their getting land, though freedom did not necessarily make them better off, but often the con- trary. They had indeed as yet no share in making the laws, but there was nothing in their blood or in the law of England to prevent their rising by industry and thrift into owners of land, and as such claiming a voice in the government of their country. Such was England when, after the wars of the Roses, Henry VII. conquered at the Battle of Bosworth, and ascended the throne in 1485. Henry VII. was born an orphan, a few months after the death of his father, Edmund Tudor, Earl of Rich- ,„^ mond. He was an exile in Brittany while Henry VII. . . . the civil wars were raging in England. He was twenty-six when the young princes were murdered, and Richard III. usurped the throne. At once, under the advice of Morton, Bishop of Ely, an attempt was , „, , , made to dethrone in his favour the tyrant A Welshman, . ■' andlanded Richard III. He was only twenty-eight when, after landing at Milford Haven, and winning at the Battle of Bosworth, he was proclaimed CH. III. England. 53 king. His family (the Tudors) were Welsh, and so he had wisely landed in Wales. Belonging himself to the Lancastrian house, and in order to conciliate the York- ists, he had taken an oath to marry, and afterwards married, Elizabeth of York, daughter of Edward IV., thereby in a way uniting the blood of the -phe throne two rival factions. He was received with precarious. acclamation in London, and ascended a precarious throne. It is well to note how precarious it was. The four previous kings had all been violently dedironed— Henry VI. imprisoned and murdered, Edward IV. de- posed and exiled, Edward V. murdered, Richard 111. slain in the Battle of Bosworth. Henry VII. himself was a usurper, and, though he was king by Act of Parliament, there were Qt^er other claimants to the throne. Two of them, claimants. generally thought to be impostors, invaded England, and tried to seize upon his throne. The first of these, Lambert Sininel, called Lambert himself Edward, Earl of Warwick, and was Simnel. supported by the Yorkist nobility, but defeated at the battle of Stoke in 1487. The other, Perkin Warbeck, professed to be the Duke of York, who with his brother, Edward V., was supposed to have been murdered by Richard III. He perkin War- was supported by Edward IV. 's sister, the ''"''■ Duchess of Burgundy, by the kings of France and Scotland, who were continually plotting against Heniy VII., and every now and then, when it suited his pur- pose, by Ferdinand of Spain. Perkin Warbeck was taken prisoner in 1497, and beheaded in 1499. Henry VII. 's foreign policy was peace and ^ ^^^ ,^ alliance with Spain. We have seen that the foreign policv. foreign policy of Spain was alliance with 54 Sfah' of Christendom. pt. i. England against France. Henry VII. wanted peace. This alone could give him a chance of establishing him- self firmly on hib precarious throne. To get peace he allied himself with Spain. While both were infants the Prince of Wales was betrothed to the Princess of Spain, Catherine of Arragon. Ferdinand was a treacherous ally. He dragged Henry VII. into the war with France which ended in the annexation of Brittany to France. And when it suited his purpose he threat- with^Catlier- cned to dethrone Henry, and even offered Arragon Catherine of Arragon to the King of Scot- land. At length, as years passed, the mar- riage of Prince Arthur to Catherine took place ; but Prince Arthur soon after diea. Then came negotiations for Catherine's marriage with Prince Henry (Henry VIII.), and on the death of his queen Henry VII. of- fered to marry his late son's widow himself! At length, in 1503, the contract for the marriage with the Prince Henry was signed, but as Henry was not yet of age it could be set aside if any other alliance suited him better. It is well to mark how these royal marriages were merely a part of the foreign policy of princes, and that from the first there had been great lack of good faith as regards this marriage, on which so much of England's future history was to turn. I Henry VII.'s domestic policy was in the main wise. , King and usurper as he was, he yet took domestic great pains to conform to the law of the ''°"^^' land. Instead of trying to make the crown absolute, he remembered he was a constitutional mon- arch, and could levy no taxes without consent of Par- liament. Still, though a constitutional monarchy, the govern- ment of England m Tudor times was not conducted just CH. III. England. 55 as it is now. Parliament did not sit every ,,. His position year as it does now. Nor were there as as regards • • . 1 T_ • ^ r • Parliament. now a prime minister and a cabinet of min- isters representing the majority in Parhament, responsi- ble to Parliament, remaining in office only so long as they can command a majority in Parliament, and giving place to another prime minister and cabinet as soon as they find themselves in a minority. The king had the reins of government much more in his own hands than the Crown has now. He chose his own ministers who were responsible to him alone. And as the regular annual revenues of the Crown were sufficient to pay for the ordinary expenses of government, and did not need voting by Parliament every year as they do now, it was only when he had a war on hand, or something extra- ordinary happened needing fresh taxes or laws, that it was needful for a Tudor king to call a Parliament. The chief minister of Henry VII. was Cardinal Mor- ton, a true Englishman, though an ecclesiastic. He was a man of large experience. He was in ^^. . . ° ^ His minister, middle life when Henry was born. He was Cardinal Mor- a privy councillor, and faithful adherent of Henry VI. Edward IV. had made him his Lord Chan- cellor, and his executor. Richard III. had thrown him into prison, but he had escaped in time to plan the enter- prise which proved successful at Bosworth Field, and to him Henry VII. owed his throne. Under the influence of Morton Henry VII. on the whole did what the weal of England required. With a strong hand he kept all classes subject to the laws of the land, quelled rebellion, and mainiained in- ternal peace and order. He was avari- '^ _ ^ . Order main- cious, but even in his most hard and unjust tained. exactions he kept within the letter of the law. 56 State of Christendom. pt. i. In order to keep the nobility in check he favoured the Middle classes growth and power of the middle classes — favoured. notably of the ' yeomen,' i. e. small land- holders, and tenant farmers. Thus he did much to conciliate the English nation after the long civil wars. He also paved the way for „ , , the union of England and Scotland by the Paved the '=' ■' way for the marriage of his daughter Mary to the king union of Eng- ^^ T-.- n- i<- tttii -i land and Scot- ot bcots. Bemg himself a Welshman, he reconciled the Welsh to English rule. After a struggle of 1,000 years they at length were satisfied with union with England. Under the Tudor dynasty ^ „ they ceased to feel themselves a conquered Finally con- ' . . ciliated the people, and though retammg their separate language, ceased to rebel from what they no longer considered a foreign yoke. To these claims of Henry VII. to English respect we must add that, though not sagacious enough to patronize . , , Columbus, he did the next best thing in And began ^ England's sending out afterwards Sebastian Cabot to pire. discover and claim for England a foothold across the ocean which proved the begin- ning of those extensions of England in America in which half the English people now dwell. Thus he was the founder of England's colonial empire. Of his later years we shall have to spe^k again. In the meantime it may help to fix some of these facts on our minds if we dwell a moment on his tomb. ' His corpse ' (says the chronicler) ' was conveyed with ' funeral pomp to Westminster, and there buried by tlic ' eood queen, his wife, in a sumptuous and The tomb of ,^ , ^ , • , ,•!.,, j Henry VII. solemn chapel, which he had not long 'before caused to be builded.' He was buried in a vault just big enough for himself and his CH. IV. The Necessity for Reform. 57 queen, under the pavement in the centre of that beauti- ful chapel which still bears his name, and in which, round this central tomb, so many Tudor and Stuart princes were afterwards laid. When Henry VII. 's vault was opened in 1689 there were found to be three coffins instead of two ! The third was discovered to be that of James I. To make room for it the wood had been stripped off the other two, leaving the inner lead coffins bare. The workmen engaged in this strange work were found to have quaintly scratched their names on the lead, with the date 1625. In that tomb of Henry VII. lie, therefore, not only the heirs of the two English contending factions of York and Lancaster, and of the traditions of Wales, but also the Scotch monarch who, thanks to the policy of his great-grandfather, Henry VII., ascended the English throne and became the first king of Great Britain. CHAPTER IV. THE NEED OF REFORM AND DANGER OF REVOLUTION, (a) The Necessity fgr Rcfgrm. Now, after this review of the state of Christendom, it will be easy to see in what points it fell short of the demands of modern civilization and wherein therefore reform was needful. We said that the first point towards which modern civilization specially tended was this, viz., the formation of compact nations living peaceably side by side, respect- ing one another's rights and freedom. 58 State of Christendom. pt. i. We have seen that the modern nations were fast , , , formincr themselves — that Eng^land, France, Italy and " 1 , r Germany and Spam Were already formed, but that Ita- unked !>' and Germany were lagguig far behind in "=^"°"^- this matter. But none of the nations were living peaceably side by side, and respecting one another's rights. They were at The lack of Constant war, sometimes under the leader- peace anT""' s^"^'? °f ^^ ^^P^^' ^^^^ ^ ^^"^"^ ^'^ robbers, set- justice. ting upon Venice, or Naples, or Milan ; then quarrelling amongst themselves, and forming fresh leagues to drive one another out. Their foreign policy was aggressive and wofully wanting in good faith. This want of public peace and international morality was a crying evil. It disturbed commerce, and its worst re- sult was that it inflicted terrible hardships on the mass- es of the people. The voice of the French peasantry was clear upon this "point. Here then was need for reform. The second great point aimed at by modern civihza- tion was, that (looking •zi////;/;? each nation) all classes of the people were to be alike citizens, for whose common weal the nation was to be governed, and who were ulti- mately to govern themselves. Not only as yet had the masses of the people no share in the government of the nations of which they formed so large a part, but also they were very far from being re- garded as free citizens, except in England, where in theory they were so, though perhaps not much so in prac- „ tice. In Germany especially, the peasantry The serfdom -^ ^ -^ ' . ^ ■' of the Ger- were Still in feudal serfdom, and feeling their tantryTtili thraldom more keenly than ever. Here, continued. again, was a necessity for reform. We have already seen that there was a necessity for CH. IV. The Necessity for Reform. 59 reform in that ecclesiastical system of Rome „, , ^ Ihe cccle- which opposed the free growth of the modern siasticai and nations, and in the scholastic system so systems intimately connected with it, which was op- "eform. posed to free thought, science, and true religion, and prevented the diffusion of the benefits of knowledge and education among the masses of the people. Now the question for the new era was, whether the onward course of modern civilization was to be by a gradual timely reform in these things, ^wt'-,, reform or or whether, reform being refused or thwarted , '■«^'^°'""°"- it was to be by revolution. Recognizing the necessity there was for reform, we have now to see the danger there was of revolution ; how far and wide, in fact, the train was already laid, waiting only for the match to explode it. [b) The Train laid for Revolutiott. It will not seem strange, (l), that it was among the oppressed peasantry of Germany that the ^, ^ ^ '■ Ine train was train was most effectually laid for revolu- laid among the tion; or, (2), that when attempts had been santry"^*^' made at revolution, they were aimed at the redress of both religious and political grievances. The ecclesiastical grievances of the peasantry were as practical and real as those involved in feudal serfdom. The peasant's bondage to the priests and ^, Their ecclesi- monks was often even harder than the bond- astical as well age to his feudal lords. It was not only that grievances. he had tithes to pay, but after paying tithes, he still had to pay for everything he got from priests and church. That religion which should have been his help and comfort was become ia system of extortion and fraud. 6o State of Christendom. pt. i. These are the words of a contemporary writer (Juan de Valdez, the brother of the secretary of the Emperor Charles V.), himself a Catholic, and well ac^ rary testi- quainted with the condition of things in °'°"^' Germany : ' I see that we can scarcely get ' anything from Christ's ministers but for money ; at bap- 'tism money, at bishoping money, at marriage money, ' for confession money — no, not extreme unction without 'money! They will ring no bells without money, no 'burial in the church without money; so that it seemeth 'that Paradise is shut up from them that have no money. 'The rich is buried in the church, the poor in the church- 'yard. The rich man may marry with his nearest kin, 'but the poor not so, albeit he be ready to die for love of 'her. The rich may eat flesh in Lent, but the poor may ' not, albeit fish perhaps be much dearer. The rich man ' may readily get large indulgences, but the poor none, be- ' cause he wanteth money to pay for them.' We must remember, too, how galling to the peasant was the payment of the large and small tithes. These words were written in England, but they will serve for all Europe : 'They have their tenth part of all the corn, meadows, 'pasture, grass, wood, colts, calves, lambs, pigs, geese, ' and chickens. Over and beside the tenth Another testi- mony, 'part of every servant's wages, wool, milk, 'honey, wax, chfeese, and butter; yea, and 'they look so narrowly after their profits that the poor 'wife must be countable to them for everj^ tenth ^gg, or ' else she getteth not her rights at Easter, and shall be 'taken as a heretic' Can we wonder that the peasants should rebel against this? and that in Germany, where both feudal and eccle- siastical oppression was so galling, they should rebel CH. IV, The train laid for Rvi'o/ittion. 6l against both, and mix the two together in their minds, demanding in one breath both rehgious and pohtical freedom ? Surely there was reason in it. As early as the fourteenth century the Swiss peasants in the Forest Cantons had rebelled and thrown off the yoke of their Austrian feudal lords, and when the latter joined in a common cause against beiiionof the them, the Swiss were victorious in the battle ^*'^^' ^315. of Morgarten, 1315. The Swiss had formerly belonged to the German Empire, and had the Empire done justice between them and their lords, they would have been glad enough to remain free peasants of the Empire ; but as the Empire helped their lords instead of them, they threw off the yoke of the Empire. They were soon joined by other neighboring cantons, and their flag, with its white cross on a red ground, became the flag of a new nation, the Swiss confederacy, with its motto, ' Each for all, and all for each '—a nation of free peasants, letting out their sons as soldiers to fight for pay, and, alas, not always on the side of freedom ! Between 1424 and 147 1 the peasants of the Rhajtian Alps did the same thing. Oppressed and insulted by their lords they burned their castles and ^^^ ^-^^ threw off their yoke, and thus was formed sams of the .... . Oraubund, the Graubund, in imitation of the Swiss con- 1441-71. federacy, but separate from it. Referring to the map 'Serfdom and Rcbellioiis against it,' we mark these two Swiss republics on it as the region where rebellion had met with success. It was no doubt their miountains which helped the Swiss peasants to suc- cess and independence. Their battles were little Mara- thons. At Morgarten 1,300 Swiss won the day against 10,000 Austrian troops. Their Alps were their protection. "VVe mark next the region where the rebellion against 6a State of Christendom. pt. i, Rome and the Empire, which followed in Bohemia upon the preaching of Wiclif and martyrdom of Unsuccess- tti.ji- r i • r fill rebellion Huss, had been, after a long reign of terror, °ards\nd ^^^ the Hussitewars (141 5-1436), quelled in ware"^ -- blood. Hussite doctrines were indeed still 1436. held by the people, and by the treaty of Basle in some sense tolerated ; but this, nev- ertheless, was the region where rebellion, springing out of the last era of light and progress, had been crushed to rise no more. Now we have got to mark where, in connexion with the new era, there were signs, as we have said, that a train was laid for a coming revolution. The John the Baptist of the movement was Hans Bo- heim, a drummer, who had appeared in 1476 in Franco- Threats of "i^> on the Tauber, a branch of the Maine. Rebellion in j^g professed to be a prophet, to have had franconiain _ _^ r r » 1476. visions of the Virgin Mary, and to be sent by her to proclaim that the Kingdom of God was at hand, that the yoke of bondage to lords spiritual and temporal v/as coming to an end, that under the new kingdom there were to be no taxes, tithes, or dues ; all were to be brethren, and woods, and waters, and pastures were to be free to all men. A crowd of 40,000 pilgrims flocked to hear the prophet of the Tauber till the Bishops of Wurz- burg and Maintz interfered, dispersed the crowd and burned the prophet He was but a sign of the times — a voice crying in the wilderness! But his cry was one which found a response in the hearts of the peasantry^ freedom from the yoke of their feudal and spiritual lords, and the restoration of those rights which in ancient days had belonged to the community. This was the cry of the peasantry for many generations to come. The next was a much more formidable movement, viz. CH. ix. The train laid for Revolution. 63 that named from the banner borne by the The ' Bund- peasantry, the Bundschuh, or peasant's clog. ^'^'^"'^ While the peasants in the Rhsetian Alps were gradu- ally throwing off the yoke of the nobles and forming the Graubund, a struggle was going on between ;„ Kempten, the neighbouring peasantry of Kempten (to '492- the east of Lake Constance) and their feudal lord, the Abbot of Kempten. It began in 1423, and came to an open rebellion in 1492. It was a rebellion against new demands not sanctioned by ancient custom, and though it was crushed, and ended in little good to the peasantry (many of whom fled into Switzerland), yet it is worthy of note because in it for the first time appears the banner of the Bundschuh. The next rising was in Elsass (Alsace), in 1493, the peasants finding allies in the burghers of the towns along the Rhine, who had their own grie- j^ Elsass vances. The Bundschuh was again their ^493- banner, and it was to Switzerland that their anxious eyes were turned for help. This movement also was prema- turely discovered and put down. Then, in 1501, other peasants, close neighbours to those of Kem.pten, caught the infection, and in 1502, again in Elsass, but this time further north, gptj, ^^^^^ -^^ in the region about Speyer and the Neckar, 1501-2. lower down the Rhine, nearer Franconia, the Bund- schuh was raised again. It numbered on its recruit rolls many thousands of peasants from the country round, along the Neckar and the Rhine. The wild notion was to rise in arms, to make themselves free, like the Swiss, by the sword, to acknowledge no supe- rior but the Emperor, and all Germany was to join the League. They were to pay no taxes or dues, and com- mons, forests, and rivers were to be free to all. Here 64 State of Christendotn. Pi'. i. again they mixed up religion with their demands, and 'Only what is just before God' was the motto on the banner of the Bundschnh. They, too, were betrayed, and in savage triumph the Emperor Maximilian ordered their property to be confiscated, their wives and children to be banished, and themselves to be quartered alive. It would have been siicide on the part of the nobles to fulfil orders so cruel on their own tenants. They would have emptied their estates of peasants, and so have lost their services, for the conspiracy was widely spread. Few, therefore, really fell victims to this cruel order of the Emperor. The ringleaders dispersed, fleeing some into Switzerland and some into the Black Forest. For ten years now there was silence. The Bimdschch ban- ner was furled, but only for a while. In 1512 and 1513, on the east side of the Rhine, in the Black Forest and the neighbouring districts of Wur- tcmberg, the movement was again on foot About the '^ *' Black Forest on a Still larger scale. It had found a leader under Joss i^^ 7^^^ Fritz. A soldier, with command- *^"'^- ing presence, and great natural eloquence, used to battle, hardship, and above all, patience, he bided his time. He was one of the fugitives who had escaped being 'quartered.' He hid himself for years in places where he was unknown, but never despaired. At length, in 15 12 he returned to his own land, settled near Freiburg, and began to draw together again the broken threads of the Peasants' league. He got him- self appointed forester under a neighbouring lord, talked to the peasants in the fields, or at inns and fairs, and held secret meetings at a lonely place among the forests in the dusk of evening. There he talked of the pea- sants' burdens, of the wealth of their ecclesiastical op- pressors, of the injustice of their blood being spilled in CH. IV. The train laid for Revolution. 65 the quarrels of lords and princes, how they were robbed of the wild game of the forest, and the fish in the rivers, which in the sight of God were free, like the air and the sun, to all men, how they ought to have no masters but God, the Pope, and the Emperor. Lastly, he talked to them of the Buitdschuh. They went to consult their priest, but Joss had talked over the priest to his side, and he encouraged the movement. Then they framed their articles, and Joss defended them out of the Bible. They were first to seek the sanction and aid of the Em- peror, and if he refused to help them then they would turn to the Swiss. There was a company of licensed beggars who tramped about the country with their wallets, begging alms wherever they went — a sort of guild, with elected captains. This guild Joss took into his confidence. They were his spies, and through thein he knew what watches were kept at city gates, and through them he kept the various ends of the conspiracy going. His plans were now all laid. He wanted nothing but the BundschuJi banner. He got some silk and made a banner — ^blue, with a white cross upon it. The white cross was the Swiss emblem. Some of his followers would have pre- ferred the eagle of the Empire. But how was the Bund- schuh to be added ? "What painter could be found who would keep the secret ? Twice he tried and was disap- pointed, and all but betrayed. At length, far away on the banks of the Neckar, he found a painter, who painted upon it the Virgin Mary and St. John, the Pope and the Emperor, a peasant kneeling before the cross, a Bundschuh, and under it the motto ' O Lord, help the righteous.' He returned with it under his clothes, but ere he reached home the secret was out. Again the League was betrayed. A few days more and the ban- F 66 State of Ckristendom. pt. i> ner ■v/^ould have been unfurled. Thousands of peasants were ready to march, but now all was over, the whole thing was out, and Joss Fritz, with the banner under his clothes, had to fly for his life to Switzerland. Every- thing was lost but his own resolution. Those conspira-. tors who were seized were put to torture, hung, be- headed, and some of them quartered alive. But Joss Fritz was not disheartened. He returned after a while to the Black Forest, went about his secret errands, and again bided his time. In 1 5 14 the peasantry of the Duke Ulrich of Wurtem- berg rose to resist the tyranny of their lord, who had ground them down with taxes to pay for Wdrtemberg ^is rcckless luxury and expensive court. and the T^i.^. same year, in the valleys of the Aus- Austnan •'_ ' ■' A!ps. trian Alps, in Carinthia, Styria, and Grain, similar risings of the peasantry took place, all of them ending in the triumph of the nobles. To defend themselves against such risings a league had been formed among the nobles of the whole district The Swabian to the north of Switzerland, called the Swa- ag^nst the bia7i Lcagne, and a proclamation was issued peasants. \}i\?i\. ' Since in the land of Swabia, and all ' over the Empire, among the vassals and poor people ' disturbances and insurrections are taking place, with ' setting up of the standard of the Bundschuh and other ' ensigns against the authority of their natural lords and ' rulers, with a view to the destruction of the nobles and ' all honourable persons, the noble and knightly orders 'have therefore agreed, whatever shall happen, to sup- ' port each other against every such attempt on the part ' of the common man.* This brings forcibly into view again the fatal vice in the policy of feudal Germany — want of the consolidatio'i CH. IV. Tiu train laid for Revolution. 67 of the German people into a compact nation. For here were the peasantry of Germany ap- wide the pealing helplessly to some higher power to [afaVor^ protect them from the oppression of their futye revo- feudal lords, conspiring for a general rebel- lion for lack of it, and debating whether on the flag of the Bundschuh they should pairt the eagle of the Empire or the white cross of the Swiss republic. Here on the other hand were the nobles and knightly orders con- spiring by the sheer force of their combined swords to crush these ' attempts on the part of the common man.' The crying need of both was for a German nation— a commonwealth — with a strong central power or govern- ment to hold the sword of justice between them, settling their disputes by the law of the land for their common weal. For lack of this there was rebellion and bloodshed. These risings of the peasantry were crushed for a while, but Joss Fritz was only biding his time, and meanwhile let us bear in mind where, how far and wide over Cen- tral Europe, the train was laid, waiting only for the match to ignite it. It is well to look once more on the map of serfdom, to fix these revolutionary localities in our mind, and before we pass away from them to mark how they lie, not in the region of darkest shadow, where serfdom was most complete — wheie a conquered Slavonian peasantry were in bondage too complete for rebellion — nor in the region of the crushed Hussite rebellions ; biit in those regions next to the countries where serfdom had obtained least hold, and had passed av/ay ; above all, in ^, . , . , . 1 he train laid those mountam regions where the traditions out where serf- of ancient freedom had lived the longest. ■wov^,hM. where the spirit of the people was least sub- '^h*^'"^ freedom i^ r r was nearest lo dued, and where the close neighbourhood of sight. 68 'The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. their fellow mountaineers of Switzerland kept an exam- ple of successful rebellion ever before their eyes. We may see in this way most clearly how these peasants' rebellions were not isolated phenomena, but parts of a great onward movement beginning centuries back, which had already swept over England and France, and freed the peasants there, and now, in this era, had Ger- many to grapple with. Whether it was destined to be at once successful or not we shall see in this history, but we may be sure it was destined to conquer some day, because we cannot fail to recognize in it one of the waves of the advancing tide of modern civilization. -^ PART II. THE PROTESTANT REVOLUTION. CHAPTER I. REVIVAL OF LEARNING AND REFORM AT FLORENCE. (i?) The Revivers of Learning at Florence. The story we have now to tell begins at Florence. Florence, as we have already noted, was a republic, but The Republic differing from other Italian republics in this: of Florence. j-j^^j. ^j^jig \^ others the nobles held power, here in Florence, for some generations, the nobles had been dethroned. The people had got the rule into their own hands ; and so far had they carried their distrust of the nobles, that no noble could hold office in the city unless he first enrolled himself as a simple citizen. Flor* ence had long been a great commercial city, and the pub- lic spirit of her citizens had helped to make her prosper- CH. I. Revival and Reform at Florence- 6q ous. Never had she been more prosperous than in the early days of her democracy. But every now and then there were troubled times ; and in such times, more than once or twice, a dictator had been chosen. Sometimes even a foreign prince had been made dicta- „ ,1 r A 1 , Power in the tor for a stated number of years. At length hands of the power had fallen into the hands of the wealthier famihes of citizens, and the chief of these was the family of the Medici. Cosmo de' Medici was for many years dictator. His great wealth, gained by commerce, placed him in the position of a merchant prince. His virtues, cosmo and patronage of learned men and the arts, 1389-1464- made him popular ; and his popularity paved the way for the proud position held by his grandson, ' Lorerfzo the Magnificent.' Lorenzo de' Medici (of whose times we are to speak) had followed in Cosmo's footsteps, and had got into his single hand the reins of the state. He had ^ ■ , . , Lorenzo de set aside the double council of elected citi- Medici, zens, and now ruled through a council of ''*'* ^'*^^' seventy men chosen by himself. His court was the most brilliant and polished of his time, but in the back- ground of his magnificence there was always this dark shadow — he held his high place at the expense of the liberties of the people of Florence. There was, however, much in his rule to flatter the pride of the Florentines. Under the Medici, Florence had become the ' Modern Athens.' Their genius and wealth had filled it with pictures and statues, and made it the home „ , • r lorence the of artists and sculptors. At this very mo- Modem -, , , , , , . Athens. ment, m Lorenzo s palace and under his Datronage, was young Michael Angela, ere long to be the 70 The Protestant Reiwlution. ft. ii. greatest sculptor and one of the greatest painters of Italy. Michael Learning also, as well as art, had found a Angelo. home at Florence. The taking of Constan- tinople by the Turks having driven learned men into Italy, here at Florence, and elsewhere in Italy, the philosophy of Plato was taught by men whose native The Platonic tongue was Greek. Cosmo de' Medici ca emj. founded the 'Platonic Academy' and Fi- Ficino. cino, who was now at the head of it, had been trained up under his patronage. Politiati (Poliziano), the most brilliant and polished Latin poet of the day, was always at the palace, directing the studies of Lorenzo's children, and ex- Politian, 1454-1494; changing Greek epigrams with learned ladies deiia Miran- of the court. To this galaxy of distinguished 1463-1494 '"^'^ ^^^ recently been added the beautiful young prince, Pico delta Miratidola, regarded as the greatest linguist and most precocious genius of the age. At twenty-three he had challenged all the learned men of Europe to dispute with him at Rome ; and some of the opinions he advanced being charged with heresy, he had taken refuge at the court of Lorenzo, who gave him a villa near his own and Politian's, on the slope of the mountain overlooking the rich valley of the Arno and the domes and towers of Florence. What these three friends— Ficino the Platonist, Politian the poet, and Pico, their young and brilliant companion — were to each other, let this little letter picture to us. Politian writes to Ficino, and asks him to come. ' My little villa is very secluded, it being embosomed among woods, but in some directions it may be said to overlook all Florence. Here Pico often steals in upon me unexpectedly from his grove of oaks, and draws me away with him from my hiding- \>\3ice to partake of one of his pleasant suppers — temperate, as you CH. I. Reinval and Reform at Florence. 71 know well, and brief, but always seasoned with delightful talk and wit. You will, perhaps, like better to come to me, where your fare will not be worse, and your wine better — for in that I may venture to vie even with Pico.' Add to this picture the brilliance of Lorenzo's court, and what a fascinating picture it is ! This little knot of men at Florence, and others in Italy, were at work at what is called the ' Revival of Learning.' These revivers of learning are often spoken r^,^^ Revival of as ' the Hiimanistsl They were dig- '^^ Learning, ging up again, and publishing, by means of the print- ing-press, the works of the old Greek and Latin writers, and they found in them something to their taste much more true and pure than the literature of the middle ages. After reading the pure Latin of the classical writers they were disgusted with the bad Latin of the monks ; after studying Plato they were disgusted with scholastic philosophy. Such was the rottenness of Rome that they found in the high aspirations of Plato after spiritual truth and immortality a religion which seemed to them purer than the grotesque form of ^ . . . 01 bemi-pagan Christianity which Rome held out to them, tendencies They could flatter the profligate Pope as all reviva" of but divine in such words as ' Sing unto Six- ^^''"'"s- las a new song,' but in their hearts some of them scoffed, and doubted whether Christianity be true and whether there is a life after death for mankind, [b) The great Florentine Reformer, Girolamo Savonarola. These were the revivers of learning. But suddenly there arose amongst them quite another kind of man — a religious Reformer. He came like a shell ^. , . Girolamo Sa- m the midst of tinder, and it burst m the vonarola, i+jj midst of the Platonic Academy. The name ^''^ " 72 The Protestant Revolution. pi. ii. of this Florentine Reformer was Girolamo Savonarola He too was a learned man, meant by his father to be a doctor, but being of a religious turn of mind he had chosen to become a monk. Finding from study of the Scriptures how much both the Church and Becomes a re- ^ ligiousre- the world needed reform, he became a Re- former. In i486 he commenced preaching against the vices of popes, cardinals, priests and monks, the tyranny of princes, and the bad morals of the peo- ple, calling loudly for repentance and reformation. In 1487 he preached at Reggio. There young Pico heard him, and, taken by his eloquence, invited him to Flor- ence. In 1490 he came to the convent of St. Mark, which was under the patronage of the Medici. Crowds came to hear him ; shopkeepers shut jup their shops ,, , . , while he was preaching. He became the Made prior of _ i o St. Mark at idol of the people. In 1491 he was made Prior of San Marco, and when asked to do customary homage to the patron for this high appoint- ment he refused, saying ' he owed it to God, and not to Lorenzo de' Medici ! ' Innocent VIII. had now succeed Sixtus IV. as Pope, and his natural son had married Lorenzo's daughter. The Pope in return had made Lorenzo's son John (after- wards Leo X.), a boy of thirteen, a cardinal! When Safvonarola thundered against ecclesiastical scandals and the vices of the Pope, Lorenzo naturally did not like it. He sent messages to the preacher, exhorting him to use discretion. ' Entreat him,' replied the Reformer, ' in my name, to repent of his errors, for calamities from on high impend over him and his family.' The bold Reformer Stirs vip in the Went on with his preaching, denouncing judg- spmt^of reform ments upou Italy and Rome. A marked inv and freedom, pression was soon visible in the morals of the CH. I. Revival and Reform at Floretue. 73 people of Florence. More and more he became their natural leader. Lorenzo tried to keep himself popular by fetes and magnificent festivals. But gradually influen- tial citizens, who still longed for the old republic and ancient liberty, attached themselves to Savonarola. In 1492 Lorenzo de* Medici died. The Re- Death of former had been sent for, and was with him Lorenzo and at his death. It was rumoured that he demanded of the dying man, as a condition of absolution, that he should restore to Florence her ancient liberties. _,, . _ -TTTTT 1-1 1 ■ Innocent VIII. This year Innocent VIII. too died; and in 1493 the wicked reign of Alexander VI. and his son Caesar Borgia began. While they were plotting to bring over Charles Vlll. of France to scourge Italy, Savona- rola mixed up with his denunciations against the evils of the times prophecies of impending woes upon Flor- ence. Then came the armies of France ; The French friendly relations between the French and The Medici the Florentines ; the expulsion of the Medici, re^'public re^^^ by their aid, from Florence; the formation stored. of a republic, under the advice of Savonarola. He de- clined to hold any office, but his spirit ruled supreme. Convents were reformed, and the study of the Bible in the original language made a part of the Savonarola's duty of the monks. Schools for the educa- '•efo'-ms. tion of the children of the people were founded ; and Savonarola went on with his preaching, denouncing the wickedness of the Church and demanding reform. In 1495 Pope Alexander VI. thought it was time to stop so dangerous a preacher. He cited him to Rome, but the people would not let him go. He offered to make him a cardinal as the price of his loyalty to Rome, but he publicly replied that the only red hat to which he aspired was one red in the blood of his own martyrdom. 74 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. Had Savonarola died in 1495, his name would have gone down to posterity as that of a reformer singularly zealous, noble, patriotic, judicious, and practical in his aims and conduct. But men are not perfect. He becomes , , . . i ,- , fanatical. The zealous bram is apt to take fire, and en- thusiasm is apt to become fanatical. So it was with Savonarola. Both he and the people gave way to excitement. When the time of Carnival came, they dragged their trinkets, pictures, immoral books, vanities of all kinds, into the public square, and made a great bonfire of them. The excitement of the people reacted on the prophet who had raised it. In his later years (he lived only to the age of forty-seven), he prophesied more wildly than ever, thought he saw visions, and did fanati- cal things which marked a brain fevered and unbalanced. Be it so ; we are not therefore to forget to pay homage to the man who, even in these later years, was bold enough to put the Borgian Pope to well-merited shame, and to denounce his vices, regardless alike of his bribes or his threats. That the Pope was powerful enough at length to put him to silence by imprisonment, to make him con- fess his heresies by torture, and on his return to them when the torture was removed, to silence him for ever by a cruel death, did but cast the halo of martyrdom around his heroism and make his name immortal. Is martyred by- order of the He was strangled and burned at Florence Alexander VI. ^Y Order of the Pope in 1498 — by order of that Pope who had himself committed murder and sacrilege and unheard-of-crimes, and who five years after died of the poison prepared, as was said, for another ! (f ) Savonarola s Influence on the Revivers of Learning. Lorenzo had died in 1492, and Savonarola, as we have said, was present at his death-bed. Pico, who had in- CH. I. Revival and Reform at Florence. 75 vited him to Florence, became a devout dis- ^^. . „ His influence ciple of Savonarola, and after three years of over Pico. pure and childlike piety, remarkably free Ficino. ' from fanaticism, died in 1495. Just as Charles VIII. was entering Florence, Pico was buried in the robes of Savonarola's order and in the church of St. Mark. Politian died in the same year; he, too, desired to be buried in the robes of Savonarola's order. Ficino was carried away by the preaching of the Reformer for a while, but was disgusted with the fanaticism of his later years. He died a Platonist, hardly sure whether Chris- tianity be true or not, and this characteristic story is told about his death. He and a friend made a solemn bar- gain with each other that whichever died first should, if possible, appear to the other and tell him whether indeed there be a life after death. Ficino died first, and is said to have appeared to his friend, exclaiming, 'Oh! Michael! f.Iichael! it is all true!' Whether the story be true or not, it shows exactly the state of mind the Neo-Platonist philosophers were in. {d) Niccolo Machiavelli. For some time after Savonarola's death Florence was governed by a Council of Ten, by whom was chosen as Secretary of State one of the most remark- ^, Niccolo Ma- able men of the time, Aiccoio Machiavelli, chiavelli the historian from whose writings we have ' '^^^' several times quoted. He was, perhaps, the keenest diplomatist that ever lived. Schooled in the lying poli- tics of Italy, while C?esar Borgia and Alexander VI. were plotting and counter-plotting with all the States of Italy and Europe, he conducted the foreign diplomacy of the Republic of Florence till 1512, when under Julius Vi the French were driven out of Italy and the sons of 76 TJic Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. Lorenzo de' Medici re-established in power. The Flo- rentines then lost their freedom of self-government for ever, and Machiavelli found himself an exile. In the retirement of a hidden country life he wrote his great -rr-,. T, • . work, 'The Prince.' Its object was to win Ihe i'rince. ■' a way back for its author to political life by convincing the Medici that though he had served under their enemies, he could do them service if they em- ployed him. It answered its purpose. Written in a wicked, lying age, ' The Prince ' reflected its vices. Its author made no pretence of a higher virtue than Borgias and Medici would appreciate. He did not scruple to advocate lying whenever it would pay ; force and fraud whenever it would succeed; tyranny, if needful to keep a tyrant on his throne ; murder and bloodshed as a means of obtaining an end. This was what professedly Christian popes had been doing of late. Machiavelli by putting these maxims into a scientific form in 'The Prince ' did but give them a sort of personality. He be- came, as it were, the demon of politics, and the unchris- tian policy of the times became known to after ages as 'Machiavellian,' CHAPTER II. THE OXFORD REFORMERS. [a] The Spirit of Reviiml of Learning and Reform is carried fro7n Italy to Oxford. There were, as we have seen, two distinct movements at Florence in favour (i^ of the Revival of Learning, and (2) of Religious Refonn. The distinction and also the connexion between these movements must be marked with care. CH. II. The Oxford Reformers. 77 The revival of the old classical Latin and Distinction and con- Greek authors, by making men prefer Plato nexion be- to the schoolmen dealt a blow at the scho- vival of '^ lastic system, and even tended towards a learning and rejection of Christianity. » reform. The spirit of religious reform was, on the other hand, a revival of earnest Christian feeling against the scandals of the Church and the irreligion of the age. It was in some sense caused by the revival of learning, for amongst the ancient literature which was revived were the Scriptures and the works of the early Church fathers ; and the study of these in their original Ian- „ , . Both against guages opened men's minds to the need of the Schoias- reform. It also set them against the scho- ' ^^^"^ lastic theology, and so it came to pass that the spirit of religious reform in its turn dealt a blow against the scholastic system. When the spirit which sought the revival of learning joined itself with that of religious reform, it produced reformers who aimed at freeing men's minds from the bonds of the scholastic system, at setting up Christ and his apostles instead of the schoolmen as the exponents of what Christianity really is, and lastly at making real Christianity and its golden rule the guide for men and .nations, and so the basis of the civilization of the future. So to some extent it had been in Italy. The revival of learning had produced, not only the Platonic Academy, but also the great Florentine Reformer; and Savonarola, with his fiery religious zeal, had been more than a match for the pagan tendencies of the Platonic Academy. Pico especially, and in part Ficino, had united religious feel- ings with a love of the Platonic philosophy. Savonarola Uvmself had united a love of letters and zeal for education 7 8 The Protestant Revolution. Pi. ii. The move- '^'^^ ^'^ Spirit of religious reform. But the ment crushed movement at Florence was now thoroughly at Florence. r ■ crushed. We must look elsewhere for its further development till it becomes a power all over Europe. As in the fourteenth century the movement begun by Wiclif in England was carried into Bohemia by the inter- Revivers at change of studcnts between the Universities Oxford. Qf Oxford and Prague, so this movement, begun in Italy, was soon carried by students from Flo- rence to Oxford, and from thence it took a fresh start. During the lifetime of Lorenzo de' Medici several Oxford students, amongst whom were Grocyn and Linacre, went to complete their studies in Grocyn and Linacre go Italy. Linacre was r^ade tutor or fellow- return ^to^" student of Lorenzo's own children (one of Oxford. whom was afterwards Pope Leo X.). They returned to Oxford to revive there the study of the Greek language and literature. Linacre afterwards became tu- tor to Arthur Prince of Wales, and physician to Henry VII. Another Oxford student — yohn Colet — went to Italy after Lorenzo's death and the French invasion of Italy, ^ , ^ , and while Savonarola was virtually head of John Colet . •' does the the Republic at Florence, also while the Colet unites scandals of Rome's worst Pope, Alexander the new" °*^ VI., and Csesar Borgia, were in everyone's learning and mouth. He caught the Spirit, not only of religious re- . . form. the revival of learning, but also of religious reform, and, combining the two, became on his return to Oxford the beginner of a movement at Ox- ford which was to influence Europe. {b) yohn Colet, Erasmus, and Thomas More. John Colet was son of a lord mayor of London, and CH. II. The Oxford Reformers. 7© likely to succeed to his father's fortune. His earnes? religious spirit made him wish to enter the Church. In Italy he studied the writings of Pico and Ficino and Plato, and above all the Bible, and returned to Oxford full of zeal for the new learning and for reform. He at once began to lecture at Oxford on St. Paul's Epistles, trying to find out what they meant in the same common sense way that men would use to understand letters written by a living man to his friends ; Lectures on not asking what the learned schoolmen had ?.' .^f"''^ ° Kpistles at decided that they meant, but giving the Oxford, schoolmen the go by (quoting Plato and Pico and Ficino more often than them), and so giving the Epistles a life- like power, interest, and freshness quite new to his hearers. By so doing he hoped to set men's minds free from the scholastic system, to make them inquire into facts for themselves, and drink in at first hand the teach- ings of the Apostle. For generations men had become monks and clergy- men without even reading the New Testament. Colet found theological students poring over the books uf the schoolmen. His lectures were the beginning of a. work which went on till it quite revolutionized the Attacl s the theological teaching of the University. For- scho-,lmen. ty years after, people found the books of the schoolmen set aside as useless, and their torn leaves strung up by the corner as waste paper. Colet had seen in Italy how much the ecclesiastical as well as the scholastic system needed reform ; and so in his lectures at Oxford he zealously urged the j^e urges necessity of a reform in the morals of the ^1?° '^'^ l*"'* ' 01 ecclesi- clergy. He urged that it was ecclesiastical astical r... scandals and the wicked worldly living of the clergy, the way they mixed themselves up with jjoII 8o The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. tics, and strove after power and money and pleasure, which set men against the Church. 'Whereas,' he said, 'if the clergy lived in the love of God and their neigh- ' hours, how soon would then true piety, religion, charity, 'goodness towards men, simplicity, patience, tolerance 'of evil, conquer evil with good! How would it stir up 'the minds of men everywhere to think well of the 'Church of Christ.' He had seen how wicked the Popes and cardinals of Rome were ; and so now, at Oxford, he burst out into hot words, written, as he said, 'with grief and tears,' against ecclesiastical wickedness in high places. He spoke of the Popes as 'wickedly distilling poison, to the ' destruction of the Church.' Unless there could be a reform of the clergy, from the Pope at the head down to the monks and the clergymen, he saw no chance of saving the Church. ' Oh, Jesu Christ, wash for us not 'our feet only, but also our hands and our head ! Other- 'wise our disordered Church cannot be far from death." A man so earnest was sure to make disciples. Stu- dents burdened by scholastic arguments came to him, He attracts and gladly accepted his advice to ' keep to disciples ^i-jg j3ii-,jg j^nd the Apostles' Creed, letting divines, if they like, dispute about the rest.' They fol- lowed him from his lectures to his chambers, and im- bibed his love for St. Paul; and along with the new learning, he stirred up in them that real religion which consists in the love of God and one's neighbour, and gives men a new power and ruling motive in life. Two men especially so came within his influence as to join themselves with him in fellow-work ; and it was by «nd fellow- their means that it became, in a way in workers. which Colet alonc never could have made It, a power all over Europe. CK. II. The Oxford Reformers. 8i One of them was Thomas (afterwards Sir Thomas, and Lord Chancellor) Alore, a young man, ten years Colet's junior, but so earnest, so full of wit . 1-11 ^ homas More. and genius, and withal so good-natured and fascinating, that those who knew him fell in love with him. He had caught at Oxford the love of the new learning which Grocyn and Linacre had brought from Italy ; and, as we shall see by-and-by, became a hearty fellow-worker with Colet. Rising by his talents to posts of high influence in the state, he became one of the most prominent figures in English history during this era. The other fellow-worker was the afterwards famous Eras7nus. He was an orphan, and poor. Thrust, when a youth, into a monastery by dishonest guar- dians, who had tried to force him to become a monk in order to get his little stock of money, he rebelled when he came of age, left the monastery, and, in spite of poverty, earning his living by g^^ly life of giving lessons to private pupils, worked his Erasmus. way up to such learning as the University of Paris could give. Wanting to master Greek, and too poor to go to Italy, he came, at the invitation of an English nobleman, to learn it at Oxford. He was just turned thirty (the same age as Colet), but already hard study, bad lodging, and the harassing life of a poor student, driven about and ill- used as he had been, had ruined his health. His mental energy rose, however, above bodily weak- jj^ comes to ness, and he came to Oxford, eager for work, Oxford, and perhaps for fame. He found the little Makes friends circle of Oxford students zealous for the new and Thomas learning and those Greek studies on which his ^^°''''' own mind was bent. He became known at once to Colet, Grocyn, and Linacre, and fell in love with More. His own words will best describe what he thought of them. G 82 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. 'When' (he wrote in a letter) 'I listen to my friend 'Colet, it seems to me like listening to Plato himself. In ' Grocyn, who does not admire the wide range of his know- ' ledge? What could be more searching, deep, and re- ' fined than the judgment of Z/«atri'? Whenever did ' nature mould a character more gentle, endearing, and 'happy than Thomas Mare's? During the time he spent at Oxford, he had many talks and discussions with Colet. He had come to Ox ford full of the spirit of the revival of learning, but not „ , yet hating the scholastic system as Colet did, Lomes under jo j Coiet's influ- nor ready at once to take to Colet's views on the need of reform. He had not yet got the religious earnestness which made Colet what he was. But Colet's fervour was infectious; and before Erasmus left Oxford, he saw clearly what a great work Colet had begun. Colet urged him to stay at Oxford, and at once to join him in his work; but Erasmus said he was not ready — he must first go to Italy to study Greek, as others had done. But, he said, ' When I feel that I have the need- ful firmness and strength, I will join you.' How effec- tually he did aid him afterwards we shall presently see. (^) The Oxford studettts are scattered till the accession of Henry VIII. (i 500-1 509). During the remainder of the reign of Henry VII. ^, , (nine years or thereabouts), the little band The three ^ ' ' friends scat- of Oxford Students was scattered. Erasmus left England in 1500 for France, on his way for Italy; but being robbed of his money by the custom-house officers at Dover, he was obliged by poverty to stay in France instead of going to Italy. Colet went on with his work at Oxford as earnestly as CH. II. The Oxford Refonners. 83 ever, till he was made Dean of St. Paul's, and removed to London. More worked his way up to the bar in London, be- came popular in the City, and very early in life went into Parliament. The last years of Henry VIL were marked by the discontent occasioned by the kin^r's avarice. ^ Exactions of His two ministers, T^mpson and Dudley Empsonand tried all kinds of schemes to exact money " '^^' from the people without breaking the laws. 'These two ravening wolves' (wrote Hall the chroni- cler, who lived near enough to the time to feel some of the exasperation he described) ' had such a guard of false 'perjured persons appertaining to them, which were by 'their commandment empanelled on every quest, that the ' king was sure to win, whoever lost. Learned men in the ' law, when they were required of their advice, would say, ' " To agree is the best counsel I can give you." By this 'undue means these covetous persons filled the king's 'coffers and enriched themselves. At this unreasonable ' and extortionate doing noblemen grudged, mean men ' kicked, poor men lamented ; preachers openly, at Paul's 'Cross and other places, exclaimed, rebuked, and de- ' tested; but yet they would never amend.' The robbing of Erasmus at the Dover custom-house was an instance of one of these legal robberies. Thomas More also suffered from the royal avarice. ., More He was bold enough to speak and vote m offends Parliament against a subsidy which he ^'^"''y ^^ • thought was more than the king ought to claim. Where- upon his father was fined on some legal but unjust ex- cuse, and he himself had to flee into retirement. He thought of going into a cloister, and becoming a monk ; but, under the influence of Colet, who about that time 84 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. was made Dean of St. Paul's, and came to live in Lon- „, . , don, he married, and waited for better days. 1 he circle . ^. of Oxford When Erasmus came to England again in formed again 1505, he found Colet, More, Grocyn, Lin- in London. ^^^^^ ^^^ Lilly (another Oxford student who had been to Italy), all living in London. They found him the necessary means for his journey to Italy, and again he left them, promising to return, and hoping then to join them in fellow -work. In 1509, while Erasmus was in Italy, Henry VII. died. ( . X 1 , The Oxford St. Pauls) was soon made court preacher, students in Thomas More, to the delight of the citizens °"" avour. of London, was made under-sheriff, and a few years afterwards, such was the fondness of the king for him, that, much against his will, he was drawn into the court. Even the foreign scholar Erasmus was at once recalled from Rome and settled at Cambridge as Greek profes- sor. There seemed now to be an open door for Revival and Reform, and all in the sunshine of the young king's favour. [e) Erasmus writes his ' Praise of Folly ' ( 1 5 1 1 ) . Erasmus, having been to Italy, was now ready to join Colet heartily in fellow-work. On his way from Italy on horseback, he planned in his mind, and on his arrival in London, before going to Cambridge, he wrote in More's house, his 'Praise of Folly,' a satire in Latin on the follies of the age, which made his name famous among the scholars of Europe. He dressed up Folly in her cap and bells, and made her deliver an oration to her fellow-fools. Prominent amongst the fellow-fools were the scholastic theologians whom Colet had taught him to dislike. ' Folly ' described them as men who were so „ . , ^ _ batire on the proud that they could define everything, who scholastic knew all about things of which St. Paul was ignorant, could talk of science as though they had been consulted when the world was made, could give you the dimensions of heaven as though they had been there and measured it with plumb and line — men who professed universal knowledge, and yet had not time to read the Gospels or Epistles of St. Paul, Monks were described as shut out of the kingdom of 86 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. heaven in spite of their cowls and their ha- bits, while wagoners and husbandmen were admitted. ' Folly ' claimed also among her votaries Popes who (as Julius II. was then doing), instead of 'leaving all,' like St. Peter, try to add to St. Peter's patri- Popes. ^ ^ mony, as they called it, fresh possessions by war, and turn law, religion, peace, and all human af- fairs upside down. This bold satire did much to open the eyes of men all over Europe to the need of reform, turned the ridicule of the world upon the scholastic theologians and monks, and as a natural consequence, raised against Erasmus the hatred of those whose follies he had so keenly sa- tirized. This little book written, he went to Cambridge to labour as Greek professor, and also at another great work of which we shall have to say more by-and-by — his edition of the New Testament. (_/") Colet foufids St. PauFs School. Colet, meanwhile, went on preaching from his pulpit at St. Paul's. On his father's death he came into posses- Colet founds a ^'°" °^ ^^'^ fortune, and nobly devoted it to school of the the foundation of a public school by the new learning. i i i • cathedral — in which boys, instead of being crammed in the scholastic learning, were to be trained in the new learning, and instead of being taught the bad Latin of the monks, were to be taught the pure Latin and Greek which the Oxford students had imported from Italy; and lastly, instead of being flogged and driven, were to be attracted and gently led into the paths of learning. CH. II, The Oxford Reformers. 87 Lilly was appointed schoolmaster. Erasmus and Lin- acre were set to work to write school-books, and finding that no one else seemed able to write a Latin Grammar simple and easy enough for beginners, Colet wrote one himself. In his preface he said he had aimed, for the love and zeal he had for his new school, at making his little book on the eight parts of speech as easy as he could, 'judging that nothing may be too soft nor too fa- miliar for little children, specially learning a tongue unto them all strange,' and asking them to 'lift up their little white hands' for him, in return for his prayers for them. Compare with these gentle words the practice of the common run of schoolmasters described by Erasmus, who, too ignorant to teach their scholars properly, had to make up for it by flogging and scolding, defending their cruelty by the theory that it was the schoolmaster's business to subdue the spirits of his boys! When it was noised abroad that in this new school of the Dean's, classical Latin and Greek were to be taught instead of the bad Latin of the monks, and that under the shadow of St. Paul's cathedral there was thus to be a school of the new learning, men of the old school of thought began to take alarm. More had jokingly told Colet that it would be so, for malice of men he said the school was like the wooden "^i^'o^i"'*^ horse filled with armed Greeks for the de- struction of barbarian Troy ; and so the men of the old school regarded it. In spite of the inscription on the building — Schola Catechizationis Puerorum in Christi Opt. Max. fide et bonis literis, ■ — one bishop denounced it openly as a 'temple of ido- latry,' and the Bishop of London began to contrive how 88 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. to get Colet convicted of heresy, and so a stop put to hia work. About this time there was a convocation, and the Archbishop of Canterbury gave Colet the duty of preach- ing to the assembled bishops and clergy the Colet's sermon • tt i i on ecclesiasti- openmg scrmon. He took the opportunity cai reform. ^f urging, in the strongest and most earnest manner, the necessity of a radical reform in the morals of the clergy. He told them to their face boldly thai the wicked worldly life of some of the bishops and clergy was far worse heresy than that of poor Lollards, twenty- three of whom the Bishop of London had just been com- pelling to abjure, and two of whom he had burned in Smithfield a few months before. No wonder the Bishop's anger was kindled still more against Colet. He and two other bishops of the old school joined in laying a charge of heresy chan?e%f^°'" ^ against him before the Archbishop, but the heresy. latter wisely would not listen to the charge. So the cause of the new learning prospered during the early years of Henry VIIL [g) The Conti7ic7iial Wars of Henry VIIL isii-i§i2. If we look back to the section on Italy, and the sum- mary there given of Papal and Continental politics, we shall see that it was in 1511 and 15 12 that Pope Julius II. was bent upon uniting Spain, England, The Holy Al- ^ ° ' ' % .' liance against and Germany m a war against r ranee. Louis ranee. XII. had got possession of Milan, and was becoming dangerous. The Pope's object was to drive Louis out of Italy. Ferdinand of Spain wanted not only to get rid of the rivalship of France in Italy, but also to annex the province of Navarre to Spain. Henry VIIL CH. II. The Oxford Reformers. 89 FRENCH PROVINCES CLAIMED BY HENRY VIII. was tempted to revive the claims of England on the Duchy of Gui- enne, which since the close of the Hundred Years' War had been annexed to the French Crown. The Emperor Maximilian was always anxious to enlarge his borders at the expense of France. So these princes formed what was called ' the Holy Alliance,' with the Pope at their head, against France, and in 1511 the holy war began. The campaign of that year „ 11-1 r T- T 1 • ■, Henry VIII. 's ended m the crafty P erdmand gettmg and first campaign. keeping Navarre, while Henry the Eighth's invasion of Guienne miserably failed. His troops mu- tinied, and returned to England in utter disorder. In the spring of 1513 preparations were being made for another campaign on a greater scale. It was in these preparations that his great minister Wol- sey's great talents came into play. Henry VIII. had set his heart on a brilliant invasion of France in order to wipe out the dishonour of the last campaign. He watched the equipment of his fleet, and ordered Ad- miral Howard to tell him ' how every ship did sail.' Just as everything was ready Julius II. died, and the Cardinal de' Medici, Linacre's fellow-student, whose ac- quaintance Erasmus had made in Italy, was , ,. ^, Julius 11. suc- elected Pope under the title of Leo X. The ceeded L-y Leo X new Pope cared for literature and art and Woliey. 9© The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. building St. Peter's at Rome more than for war, and ex- pressed his anxiety to bring about a peace. But Henry n „ VIII. had set his heart upon a glorious war, But Henry "^ ^ ' persists m in- and in spite of the death of the head of the vading France, ti i ah- i • • ■, /- i . Holy Alliance, and m spite also of his father-in-law Ferdinand's hanging back at the last mo- mentj he was determined to go on. Admiral Howard in his first engagement with the French, lost his life in a brilliant exploit, and his crew, disheartened, returned to Plymouth. But still Henry VIII. set sail with the rest of the ships for Calais, with ' such a fleet as Neptune ,_ r, never saw before,* and from Calais he Gains the Bat- tle of the marched his army a few leagues beyond the French frontier, took some towns of small importance, and turned the French army to flight at the Battle of the Spurs. He did little harm to France or good to England, but got some sort of a victory, and so gratified his vanity. , . There were of course great rejoicings, tourna- Scotch inva- ° -" ° ' sionofEng- ments, and pageants, but just in the midst of them came the news that the Scotch, always troublesome neighbours in those days, before the union of the two kingdoms, had, incited by France, taken the opportunity of Henry VIII. 's absence in France to invade England, but that through the zeal and energy of Queen Catherine they had been defeated, and the Battle of King of Scots himself slain, with a host of the Scotch nobility, at the Battle of Flodden. Whereupon Henry VIII., finding nothing better to do, amid great show of rejoicing returned to England, bent upon preparing for another invasion by-and-by. But his father-in-law, Ferdinand, had served him so badly in these two campaigns — leaving him to bear the brunt of them, while he contented himself with taking c.n. II. T/ie Oxford Reformers, 91 and keeping Navarre — that the end of it was a strange shuffling of the cards. Henry VIII. made Henry Vlll. peace with Louis XII., and England and Pranceagainst France combined to wrest back again from Spam. Spain that very province of Navarre which Henry VIII. had helped Ferdinand to wrest from France only a few years before. In January 151 5 this unholy alliance was broken by Louis XII. 's death. He was succeeded by Francis I.., who, eager, like his young rival, Henry VIII., to win his spurs in a European war, succeeded by at once declared his intention that the ' nion- ^"'^"'^'^ ^• archy of Christendom should rest under the Francis I. invades Italy, banner of France, as it was wont to do ! ' A and recovers few months after, he started on the Italian campaign, in which, after defeating the Swiss soldiers at the battle of Marignano, he recovered the Duchy of Milan. Again both Ferdinand and Henry VIII. were made friends by their common jeal- andSpfin^com- ousy of France. It would never do to let Wne against ■' I ranee. France become the first power in Europe. So during these years, instead of an Augustan age of peace, reform, and progress in the new learning and civilization, through the jealousy and lust of military glory of her kings, stirred up by the kings^gainst late warlike Pope and his Holy Alliance, Eur'J'T^^'^ Europe "vas harried with these barbarous wars ! We have seen, in the chapter on France, how her national wars tended to increase the power of the Crown, and how the fact that the Crown was abso- lute and backed by its standing army, while tended to it tended to keep France a united IcinErdom "!^'^f V\T\%f. '^ " absolute. on the map, injured the nation. So it was 92 The Protestant Revolution. pt. i. The ex- also in measure — happily only in measure — ■ ample of ir i j j France. in England. These wars tended to make the king absolute. To carry them on, not only were ah the hoarded treasures of Henry VII. dispersed, but fresh taxes were needed ; and when all the taxes were spent that could be got legally out of votes of Parliament, Wolsey was driven to get more money by illegal means. Narrow Had the war-fever gone on a little longer^ escape of jygt SO long as to establish the precedent of the king's levying taxes without consent of Parliament — then England might well have lost her free constitution, just as France had already done. But, happily, this was not so to be. In the meantime, let us see how the Oxford Reformers acted in this crisis of European affairs, how they used all their influence to set the public opinion of the educated world against this evil policy of European princes. Colet Colet preached against the wars to the preaches people from his pulpit at St. Paul's, and to against the r r r r wars. the king from the pulpit of the royal chapel; and his enemies tried to get him into trouble with the king for doing so. But Henry VIII., wild as he was for military glory, was generous enough to respect the sincerity and boldness of the dean ; and though not wise enough to follow his advice, refused to stop his preaching. Erasmus made known to his learned friends all over Europe this bold con- duct of Colet and his hatred of war. He also, in his „ letters to the Pope, princes, cardinals, bish- Erasmus . against ops, and influential men everywhere, protest- ' ed against the false international policy which sacrificed the good of the people to the ambition of kings, and also More also made no secret to the king that More. ]^g ^ya^s opposed to his conquering France, and that he hated the wars. CH. II. T/ie Oxford Reformers. 93 [Ji) The kind of Reform ahned at by the Oxford Reformers. It so happened that just at this time Erasmus was invited to the court of Prince Charles of the Netherlands (•\fterwards the Emperor Charles V.), and Erasmus that More was also beingr drawn by Henry made a ° ■' ■' councillor VIII. into his royal service. They both at of Prince length yielded. Erasmus became a privy councillor of Prince Charles, on condition j^t^'nln^" that it should not interfere with his literary viii.'s service. work. More became a courtier of Henry VIII. when peace was made with France, on condition that in all things he should ' first look to God, and after Him to the king.' Both Erasmus and More, in thus entering royal ser- vice, published pamphlets or books containing a state- ment of their views on politics. Erasmus called his ' The Christian Prince ; ' More called his a ' Description of the Commonwealth of Utopia.' Erasmus, in his ' Christian Prince,' urged that the Golden Rule ought to guide the actions of -pj^g princes— that they should never enter upon '^-^"H'^l. '■ ■' _ ^ Prince of a war that could possibly be avoided, that Erasmus. the good of their people should be their sole object, that it was the people's choice which gave a king his title to his throne, that a constitutional monarchy is much better than an absolute one, that kings should aim at taxing their people as little as possible ; that the necessaries of life, things in common use among the lowest classes, ought not to be taxed, but luxuries of the rich, and so on : the key-note of the whole being that the object of nations and governments is the common weal of the whole people. 94 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. In the meanwhile. More, in his 'Utopia,' or descrip- tion of the manners and customs of an ideal common- More's wealth (' Utopia' meaning ' nowhere '), urged 'Utopia.' jyg(- ti^g same points. The Utopians elected their own king, as well as his council or parlia- ment. They would not let him rule over anothei country as well : they said he had enough to do to govern their own island. The Utopians hated war as the worst of evils ; the Utopians aimed not at making the king and a few nobles rich, but the whole people. All property belonged to the nation, and so all the peo- ple were well off. Nor was education confined to one class ; in Utopia everyone was taught to read and write. All magistrates and priests were elected by the people. Every family had a vote, and the votes were taken by ballot. Thus the key-note of More's 'Utopia' was, like the ' Christian Prince' of Erasmus, that governments and nations exist for the common weal of the whole people. If we turn back to the description already given of the two points which mark the spirit of modern civiliza- ^, tion, and judge these sentiments of Eras- They entered mus and More from that point of view, we int'o°he ^ Cannot fail to see how thoroughly they en- modem tered into the spirit of the new era, and how civilization. correct and far-reaching were the reforms which they urged upon the public opinion of Europe. We must not leave the Oxford Reformers without trying to get a clear idea of the kind of religious reform which they urged. We have seen that Colet's object was to set the minds „, , of men free from the bonds of the scholastic 1 he cnaracier of their System, by leading men back from tha refoTm"^ schoolmen to the teaching of Christ and His Apostles in the New Testament. CH. II. The Oxford Reformers. 95 Erasmus had been all this while labouring hard in fellow-work with him. He had for years been working at, and now, in 1 516, published at the printing-press at Basle, a book which did more to prepare the way for the relieious reformation than any other book „„ ^^ ° . 1 he New published during this era. This was his Testament edition of the New Testament, containing, rabmus. in two columns side by side, the original Greek and a new Latin translation of his own. He thus realized a great object, which Colet had long had in view, viz., not only to draw men away from scholastic theology, but to place before them, in all the freshness of the original language and a new translation, the 'living picture' of Christ and His Apostles contained in the New Testa- ment. By so doing he laid a firm foundation for another great religious reform, viz., the translation of the New Testament into what was called ' the vulgar tongue ' of each country, thus bringing it within reach of the people as well as of the clergy. 'I wish' (Erasmus said in his preface to his New Testament) 'that even the weakest woman should read 'the Gospels — should read the Epistles of Paul; and I 'wish that they were translated into all languages, so 'that they might be read and understood not only 'by Scots and Irishmen, but also by Turks and Sara- ' cens. I long that the husbandman should sing por- 'tions of them to himself as he follows the plough, 'that the weaver should hum them to the tune of his 'shuttle, that the traveller should beguile with their 'stories the tedium of his journey.' Of course this great work of Erasmus excited the oppo- sition and hatred of the men of the old school, and espe- cially of the monks and scholastic divines, to whom the old Vulgate version was sacred, and Greek a heretical 96 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. tongue. But the New Testament went through several large editions, and when, a few years after, the learned men of the Sorbonne at Paris complained of what they called its heresies, Erasmus was able to reply trium- phantly, 'You are too late in your objections. You should have spoken sooner. It is now scattered over Europe by thousands of copies ! ' One other point we have to fix in our minds — the attitude of the Oxford Reformers to the ecclesiastical ^, , . J , system. We have seen that their notion of The kind of ... ecclesiasti- religion was that it was a thing of the heart urged by the — the love of God and man. They believed formers ^^ that it was intended to bind men together in a common brotherhood, not to divide them into sects. They complained how rival orders of monks and schools of theology hated one another. Christians might differ about doctrines, but they ought to agree in They aimed the worship of God and in their love of one and tolerant another. Hence More in his Utopia had Church. described the Utopians as giving full tolera- tion to all varieties of doctrines and differences of creeds; and pictured all worshipping together in one united and simple mode of worship, expressly so arranged as to hurt the feelings of no sect among them, so that they all might join in it as an expression of their common brotherhood in the sight of God. It is clear that, holding these views, they were likely to urge, as they did earnestly urge, the reform of the ecclesiastical system, but that if at any time a great dissension were to arise in the Church, they would urge that the Church should be reformed and widened so as to give offence to neither party, and include And were , .... , , , • , ,, Jikely to op- both Within it, and would oppose with all pove sc ism. \\^^^x might anything which should break up CH- III. 77/1? Wittenberg Reformers. 97 its unity and cause a schism. Whether right or wrong, this would be the course which their own deep convic- tions would be likely to lead them to take, and this, we shall see, was the line the survivors of them did take when the Protestant struggle came on. We say ' the survivors,' because Colet did not live to work much longer. Even now, driven into retirement by the perse- cution of the old Bishop of London, he could do little but work at his school. And he died in 15 19. To the beginning of the Protestant movement we must now turn our attention. CHAPTER III. THK WITTENUKRG REFORMERS. {a) Martin Luther beioine: a Reformer. Martin Luther was born in 1483, and so was 15 years younger than Erasmus and Colet, and three „ , , • r • , Born 1483. years younger even than their young friend More. His great-grandfather and grandfather were Saxon peasants, but his father being a younger son had left home and become a miner or slate-cutter at Mansfield in Thuringia. Both his parents school" were rough and hot-tempered, but true and ^n^ toum- honest at heart. Though working hard for a living, they sent their sons to school, and wishing Mar- tin to become a lawyer, they found means to send him to the university of Erfurt. There he took his degree of M. A. In 1505, in fulfilment some say of a vow made in a dreadful thunderstorm, when he thought his end was H q8 'The Protestant Revolution. pr. ii. near, Luther, contrary to his father's wishes, Becomes a ,„.., ,. , . i,, » monk. left his law studies and entered the Augus- tine monastery at Erfurt. He inherited the superstitious nature of the German peasantry. He traced every harm that came to him through passion and temptation all alike to the Devil. His conscience was often troubled. His fasts and penances did not give him peace. He passed through great mental struggles, sometimes shut himself up in his cell for days, and once was found sense- less on the floor. At length he found peace of mind in the doctrine of 'justification by faith,' /. c, that forgive- ness of sins, instead of being got by fasts and penances and ceremonies, is given freely to those who have faith in Christ. This doctrine he learned partly from the pious vicar-general ci the monastery, partly from the works of St. Augustine, and under their guidance from a study of the Bible. From this time he accepted also Adopts the '■ theology of St. Other parts of the theology of St. Augustine, ugus ine. ^^^ especially those which, because they were afterwards adopted by Calvin, are now called ' Cal- vinistic,' such as that all things are fated to happen ac- cording to the divine will, that man has therefore no free will, and that only an elect number, predestinated to receive the gift of faith, are saved. It is well to mark here that these Augustinian doctrines were, in fact, a part of that scholastic theology from which the Oxford Reformers were trying to fcred'"frora fhe set men free. In not accepting them they Oxford Re- differed from Luther. But they and Luther formers. ■' had one thing in common. They alike held that religion did not consist in ceremonies, but was a thing of the heart ; that true worship must be in spirit and in truth. In 1508 Luther was removed from Erfurt to the Augus- CH. 111. The Wittenberg Rejoriners. 99 tinian monastery at Wittenberg, and soon 1 I 1 1 TT • • Luther re- after made preacher there at the University moves to Wit. recently founded by the Elector of Saxony. '"'^ ^^' In i5iohe\vas sent on an errand for his monastery to Rome. There he found wicked priests ^ Visits Rome. performing masses in the churches, ignorant worshippers buying forgiveness of sins from the priests, and doing at their bidding all kinds of penances; and he came back zealous, like Colet, for reform, and with the words ' the just shall live by faith ' more than ever ringing in his ears. He had been preaching and teaching the theology of St. Augustine at Wittenberg several years with great ear- nestness, when in i i;i6 he read the new edi- „ , , ^, -^ Reads the New tion of the New Testament by Erasmus. Testament of The works of Erasmus had an honourable place on the shelves of the Elector of Saxony's library, and his New Testament was the common talk of learned men at the universities, even at this youngest of them all — Wittenberg. Luther eagerly turned over its pages, re- joicing in the new light it shed on old familiar passages; but what a disappointment it was to him as by degrees he discovered that there was a great difference betv/een Erasmus and himself — that Erasmus did not accept those Augustinian doctrines on which his own faith was built ! He knew that Erasmus was doing a great work towards the needed reform, and this made it all the more painful to find that in these points they differed. He was * moved ' by it, but, he wrote to a friend, ' I keep it to ^. ^ J ' ' ' r Finds out the myself, lest I should play into the hands of difference in 1 • • ■» T ^ 1 • 1 • 1 thf T theology his enemies. May God give him under- standing in his own good time ! ' This is a fact that in justice to both should .lever be forgotten. Luther was conscious of it from tht rirst, an4 loo The Protestant Revolution. pt. II. it had this future significance, that if Protestantism (as it afterwards did) should follow Luther and adopt the Augustinian theology, Erasmus and the Oxford Re- formers never could become Protestants. Luther might wisely try to keep it secret, but if matters of doctrine should ever come to the front, the breach between thera was sure to come out. {b) The Sale of Indulgences ( 1 5 1 7 ) . While Luther was preaching Augustinian doctrines at Wittenberg, and Erasmus was hard at work at a second edition of his New Testament, pressing More's 'Utopia' and his own ' Christian Prince ' on the notice of princes and their courtiers, expressing to his friends at Rome his hopes that under Leo X. Rome might become the centre of peace and religion, Europe was all at once brought by the scandalous conduct of Princes and the Pope to the brink of revolution. Leo X. wanted money to help his nephew in a little war he had on hand. To get this money he offered to Leo X.'s grant indulgences or pardons at a certam get money by pricc, to those who would Contribute money indulgence. jq ^^ building of St. Peter's at Rome. The people were still ignorant enough to believe in the Pope's power to grant pardons for sins, and there was no doubt they would buy them, and so gold would flow into the coffers of Rome. There was one obstacle. Princes were growing jealous of their subjects' money ^^ being drawn towards Rome. But Leo X. Utters pnnces . a shaie in the got over this obstacle by giving them a *^°' ' share in the spoil. He offered Henry VIII. one-fourth of what came from England, but Henry VIII. haggled and bargained to get a third ! Kings had made Uiemselves poor by their wars, and a share in the papa] CH. III. The Wittenberg Refonners. loi spoils on their own subjects was a greater temptation than they could resist. Erasmus in his ' Praise of Folly ' had described indul- gences as 'the crime of false pardons," and ^ ^ Erasmus now in every letter and book he wrote he writes bitterly bitterly complained of the Pope and Princes ''^^'"^ for resorting to them again. He wrote to Colet : — • ' I have made up my mind to spend the remainder of my life with you in retirement from a world which is everywhere rotten. Ecclesiastical hypocrites rule in the courts of princes. The Court of Rome clearly has lost all sense of shame ; for what could be more shameless than these continued indulgences I ' And in a letter to another friend, he said : — ' All sense of shame has vanished from human affairs. I see that the very height of tyranny has been reached. The Pope and ^ings count the j)eople not as men, but as cattle in the market ! ' But though Erasmus numbered among his friends Leo X., Henry VHL, Francis I., and Prince Charles, he found them deaf to his satire, and unwiUing to reform abuses which filled their treasuries, kingfw^iu^not They would not listen to Erasmus. It re- ''st^n. mained to be proved whether they would listen to Lu- ther! {e) Luther s Attack on Indulgences {/j//.) Wittenberg was an old-fashioned town in Saxony, on the Elbe. Its main street was parallel with the broad river, and within its walls, at one end of it, ,,,. , Wittenberg. near the Elster gate, lay the University, founded by the good Elector — Frederic of Saxony — of which Luther was a professor ; while at the other end of it was the palace of the Elector and the palace church of All Saints. The great parish church lifted its two towers {02 The Protestant Revolution. vi. n. from the centre of the town, a little back from the main hirect. This was the town in which Luther had been preaching for years, and towards which Tet- Tetzel comes near, selling zcl, the Seller of indulgences, now came, just indulgences. ^^ j^^ ^j^ ^.^ ^^j^^^. jQ^j^g, Vending his ' false pardons ' — granting indulgences for sins to those who could pay for them, and offering to release from purga- tory the souls of the dead, if any of their friends would pay for their release. As soon as the money chinked in his money-box, the souls of their dead friends would be let out of purgatory. This was the gospel of Tetzel. It made Luther's blood boil. He knew that what the Pope wanted was people's money, and that the whole thing was a cheat. This his Augustinian theology had taught him ; and he was not a man to hold back when he saw what ought to be done. He did see it. On the day be- fore the festival of All Saints, on which the relics of the Church were displayed to the crowds of country people who flocked into the town, Luther passed down the long street with a copy of ninety-five theses or statements Luther's against indulgences in his hand, and nailed agamstin- them upon the door of the palace church dulgenccs. ready for the festival on the morrow. Also on All Saints' day he read them to the people in the great parish church. It would not have mattered much to Tetzel or the Pope that the monk of Wittenberg had nailed up his papers on He is backed the palace church, had it not been that he pLctor of '^^'^ backed by the Elector of Saxony. The Saxony. Elcctor was an honest man, and had the good of the German people at heart. Luther's theses laid hold of his mind, and a few days after it is said that he dreamed that he saw the monk writing on the door of his church in letters so large that he could read them en. III. T/ic lVittenbc7'g Rcformos. 103 eighteen miles off at his palace where he was, and that the pen grew longer and longer, till at last it reached to Rome, touched the Pope's triple crown and made it tot- ter. He was stretching out his arm to catch it when he awoke ! The Elector of Saxony, whether he dreamed this dream awake or asleep, was at least wide awake enough to refuse permission for Tetzel to enter his do- mmions. Then came a year or two of controversy and angry disputes ; and just at the right time came Philip Mc/anch' ikon, from the University of Tubingen, to „, .,. ■' ° Philip Strengthen the staff of the Elector's new Meianch- University at Wittenberg — a man deep in to Witten- Hebrew and Greek, a half-disciple of Eras- ^""S' mus — already pointed out as likely to turn out ' Erasmus II.,' of gentle, sensitive, and affectionate nature, the very opposite of Luther, but yet just what was wanted in another Wittenberg Reformer — -to help in argument and width of learning; to be in fact to Luther, partly what Erasmus had been to Colet. In the weary and hot dis- putes which now came upon Luther, Melanchthon was always at his elbow, and helped him in his arguments; while the fame of Luther's manly conduct and Melanch- thon's learning all helped to draw students to the Llni- versity from far and near, and so to spread the views of the Wittenberg Reformers more and more widely. [d) The Election of Charles V. to the Empire {/j/g). Suddenly, in 1519, the noise of religious disputes was drowned in the still greater noise of political excitement Maximilian died, and anew Emperor had to ^ , ^ ' '^ Dcith of be elected. Prince Charles, who was now Maximilian. King of Spain also, wanted to be Emperor ; foV the so did Francis I., though a Frenchman ; so Empire,. 104 The Protestant Revolution. rx. n. did Henry VIII., claiming that, though England was not a subject of the Empire, the English language was a German tongue, while French was not. The princes of the Empire wanted the Elector of Saxony to be Em- peror, but he was the one man who cared most for the interests of Germany, and had least selfish ambition. It was a question which of the three princes could bribe a majority of the seven Electors. Henry VIIL did not risk enough to give himself a chance. It was not ^, , „ really likely that, however much they inight Charles y . j cj elected be bribed, the Electors, who were all Ger- throuKh the . i i i t^ i influence of man pnuccs, would choose a frenchman. of'saxonT '^^^ Elector of Saxony practically decided the election in favour of Prince Charles. The following letter of Erasmus, who was a councillor of Prince Charles, will show what manner of man the good Elector was. ' The Duke Frederic of Saxony has written twice to me in reply to my letter. Luther is supported solely by his protection. He says that he has acted thus for the sake rather of the cause than of the person (of Luther). He adds, that he will not lend himself to the oppression of innocence in his dominions by the malice of those who seek their own, and not the things of Christ.' . . . ' When the imperial crown was offered to Frederic of Saxony by all (the Elec- tors), with great magnanimity he refused it, the very day before Charles was elected. And Charles never would have worn the im- perial title had it not been declined by Frederic, whose glory in re- fusing the honour was greater than if he had accepted it. When he was asked who he thought should be elected, he said that no one seemed to him able to bear the weight of so great a name but Charles. In the same noble spirit he firmly refused the 30,000 flo' rins offered him by our people {i. e. the agents of Charles). When he was urged that at least he would allow 10,000 florins to be given to his servants, "They may take them" (he said) "if they like, but no one shall remain my servant another day who accepts a single en. III. T/ic ]Vittcnbc7-g Reformers. toS piece of gold." The next day he took horse and departed, lest they should continue to bother him. This was related to me as entirely credible by the Bishop of Liege, who was present at the Imperial Diet.' Would that Charles V. had followed throughout his reign the counsels of the good Elector to whom he owed his crown! Charles's grandfather, Ferdinand, had died only a few months before, and he was himself in Spain, settling the affairs of his new kingdom, when he was elected. We have now to mark what power had fallen into the hands of this prince of the House of Hapsburg. On the map are distinguished the Austrian, Extent of Burgundian, and Spanish provinces which Charles v.'s came under his rule. We must remember, too, how the ambition of Spain was to increase its Ital' io6 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. ian possessions, and that, as head of the 'Floly Roman Empire,' he was also nominally King of Italy! (/?) Luther s Breach with Rome (1520). While these political events had been absorbing atten- tion, the religious disputes between Luther and the papal party had been going on. They had this singular effect upon Luther: Luther finds ■' ° i • , nimself a they drove him to see that his Augustmian "^^''^' views were identical with those of Wiclif and Huss. He was astonished, as he described it, to find that 'he was a Hussite without knowing it; that St, Paul and Augustine were Hussites ! ' The fact was that Wiclif and Huss, like Luther, had in a great degree got their views from the works of St. Augustine: they had so adopted many of the doctrines which belonged to what we have said is now called the Calvinistic theology. This discovery hastened on his quarrel with the Pope. The Pope and Councils had denounced W^iclif and Huss as heretics ; therefore Popes and Councils were not in- fallible. This was the conclusion to which Humoured Pa- i i j i i i • i / pal Bull against Luther camc. Luther had declared hnnself a Hussite, therefore the papal party con- tended be must, like Huss, be a heretic; and the long continuance of the Hussite wars being taken into account he must be a dangerous heretic. So the Pope made up his mind to issue a Papal Bull against Luther. When rumours of this reached Luther, so far from be- ing fearful, he became defiant. He at once wrote two pamphlets. The first was addressed ' To the Nobility of the German nation^ It was pubhshed, in both Latin and German, in LH. III. The ]Viitcnbc7-g Reformers. 107 1520, and 4,000 copies were at once sold. If we bear in mind what has already been phieAV the "" said in the section 'On the Ecclesiastical German nition System,' the chief points of the pamphlet will be easily understood. The gist of it was as follows : — ' To his Imperial Majesty and the Christian Nobility of the Ger- man nation, Martin Luther wishes grace, &c. The Romanists have raised round themselves walls to protect themselves from reform. One is their doctrine, that there are two separate estates; the one ipiritiial,\\z. pope, bishops, priests, and monks; the other secw^ar, viz. princes, nobles, artisans, and peasants. And they lay it down that the secular power has no power over the spiritual, but that the spiritual is above the secular; whereas, in truth, all Christians are spiritual, and there is no difference between them. The secular power is of God, to punish the wicked and protect the good, and so has rule over the whole body of Christians, without exception, pope, bishops, monks, nuns and all. For St. Paul says, ' Let every soul (and I reckon the Pope one) be subject to the higher powers.' [Luther was writing this to the secular princes, and they were likely to listen to this setting up of their authority above that of the clergy. He was writing also to the German nation, and he knew well how to catch their ear too.] ' Why should 300,000 florins be sent every year from Germany to Rome ? Why do the Germans let themselves be fleeced by cardinals who get hold of the best preferments and spend the revenues at Rome? Let us not give another farthing to the Pope as subsidies against the Turks; the whole thing is a snare to drain us of more money. Let the secular authorities send no more annates to Rome. Let the power of the Pope be reduced within clear limits. Let there be fewer cardinals, and let them not keep the best things to themselves. Let the national churches be more independent of Rome. Let there be fewer pilgrimages to Italy. Let there be fewer convents. Let priests marry. Let begging be stopped by making each parish take charge of its own poor. Let us inquire into the position of the Bohemians, and if Huss was in the right, let us join with him in resisting Rome.' io8 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. And then, at the end, he threw these few words of defi- ance at the Pope : — ' Enough for this time ! I know right well that I have sung in a high strain. Well, I know another little song about Rome and hei people ! Do their ears itch ? I will sing it also, and in the highest notes ! Dost thou know well, my dear Rome, what I mean?' His Other pamphlet — his 'other little song about Rome' —was an attack upon her doctrines. It was entitled ' On the Babylonish Cafitivity of the Church,' Another pan- ^ ^ ^ j phiet on the and in it he repeated his condemnation of Captivity'of indulgences, denied that the supremacy of the Church.' ^^ p^pg ^^5 Qf divine right, declared the Pope a usurper, and the Papacy the kingdom of Baby- lon ; and then, turning to matters of doctrine, boldly re- duced the sacraments of the Church, by an appeal to Scripture, from seven to three — Baptism, Penance, and the Lord's Supper. He ended this pamphlet in as defiant a tone as the other. 'He heard' (he said) 'that Bulls ' and other terrible Papistical things were being prepared, 'by which he was to be urged to recant or be declared a 'heretic. Let this little book be taken as a part of his 'recantation, and as an earnest of what was to come ! ' While the printing-press was scattering thousands of copies of these pamphlets all over Germany, in Latin for The Bull '^^ learned, and in German for the com- -ives. j^Qi^ people, the Bull arrived, and tho Elector of Saxony was ordered by the Pope to deliver up the heretic Luther. The question now was. What would Luther do with the Bull, and the Elector with Luther? (y) Tlie Elector of Saxony consults Erasmus, December 6, 1 520. Much at this moment depended on what the good Elector of Saxony would do. Well was it that the fate CH. III. The Wittetiberg Rcfor)ners. 109 of Luther lay in the hands of so conscientious a prince. He and his secretary Spalatin were at Cologne, where Charles V., after his recent coronation, was holding his court. Melanchthon and Luther were in constant corres- pondence with Spalatin. Melanchthon wrote that all their hopes rested with the prince, and urged Spalatin to do his best to prevent Luther being crushed, — ' a man,' he said, ' who seemed to him almost inspired, and whom he dared to put not only above any other man of the age, but even above all the Augustines and Jeromes of any age ! ' So enthusiastic a disciple of the bold Luther had the gentle Melanchthon become! Spalatin did his best. Aleander, the Pope's nuncio, and supposed author of the 'Bull,' was at Cologne, wild against Luther and doing all he could to get the Emperor to make common cause with the Pope. He knew that the Elector of Saxony stood in the way, and did his best ., ■' , Ale.-inder, to wm hrni over. Erasmus, bemg one of the Pope's .IT- ' -11 ..1 J nuncio, tries the Emperors council, also was there, and to win over Aleander knew that he, too, was against ofg^'o"""^ the crushing of the poor monk, and if he could have bribed him over with a bishopric, or secretly poisoned him, there is evidence that it would most likely have been done. The Elector was bent upon doing what was right and best for Germany and for Christendom, and anxious to have the advice of the best and the wisest men upon the course he should take. Erasmus had written to the Wittenberg Reformers, praising their zeal, but advising more gentleness. Melanchthon had sent the letter from Erasmus to the good Elector, who now wanted to consult Erasmus confidentially him- self. Spalatin managed the interview. It was in the Elector's rooms at the inn of 'The Three Kings' that no The Protestant Revolution. PT. ii. they met, the Elector, Erasmus and Spalatin. The Elector asked of Erasmus through Spalatin, in Latin, as they stood over the fire, ' What he really thought of Luther?' and fixed his eyes eagerly upon The Elector ^ tt asks advice him as he Waited tor an answer. Erasmuj rasmus. g^id, with a smile, ' Luther has committed two crimes! He has hit the Pope on the crown and the monks on the belly.' This was exactly the truth. The Elector's dream had come true. Luther's great pen had reached to Rome and touched the Pope's triple crown. Leo X. was a sort of patron of Erasmus, but that did not hinder Erasmus from condemning the Bull. The monks were his old enemies, bitter against the new learning, haters of him- self and Colet as well as Luther, because they saw their craft was in danger as men's eyes became more and more opened. Therefore Erasmus could afford to smile a bitter sarcastic smile at the expense of both Pope and monks. Before he left he wrote down on paper a short The advice Statement of his opinion that the monks' of Erasmus. hatred of the new learning was at the bot- tom of their zeal against Luther, whilst only two uni- versities had condemned him ; that Luther's demand to be properly heard was a fair one ; and that being a man void of ambition, he was less likely to be a heretic. At all events the views of Luther's opponents were worse than his ; all honest men disapproved of the Bull ; and clemency was what ought to be expected of the new Emperor. While thus he spoke in favour of fair dealing with Luther, he at the same time found much fault with Lu- „, _, ther's violent way of going to work and his The Elector , y o o follows it. abusive language. The result of the inter- view was reported to Luther. Melanchthon and he were CH. III. The Wittenberg Reformers. i ii well satisfied with the advice given by Erasmus. They considered that it had great weight in strengthening the Elector in favour of Luther. At all events the Elector followed it in two points — he remained firm in defence of Luther, and at the same time he wrote and recom- mended to Luther more of that gentleness the want of which had displeased Erasmus. {g) Luther burns the Pope's Bull, December lo, 1520. Perhaps the advice of the Elector to Luther came just too late! The meeting with Erasmus ^the inn of the 'Three Kings' at Cologne was on December 5. In the meantime Luther had been making up his mind what to do, and on the loth he did it, we may suppose before the posts from Cologne had reached him. Excited, and as Melanchthon said, seeming almost inspired, conscious of right and also of power, Luther wished all Europe to see that a German monk could dare to defy the Pope. Had there been a mountain at Wit- tenberg he would have lit his bonfire on the top, and let the world, far and near, see the Pope's Bull blaze in its flames. Butthere wasnot even a hill in that ^ , Luther flat country. So in solemn procession, at bums the the head of his fellow-doctors and the stu- dents of the university, he marched through the Elster gate, and there, outside the city walls, in presence of the great German river Elbe, he burned the Bull, and as many Roman law books as he could find. His burning the Bull against himself was a personal act of defiance. His burning the Roman law books was a public decla- ration that the German nation ought not to be subject to the jurisdiction of Rome. Amid the cheers of the crowd, Luther returned to his rooms. That a man of hot tem- per, fastening by his daring act the eyes of all Europe 112 The Protestant Revolution. pt. li. upon himself, assuming as it were the leadership of a na- tional crusade against the Pope of Rome, should be for the moment carried away by excitement into extrava- gance was only natural. Luther was in fact greatly excited, and on the next day, in his crowded lecture- room, let himself utter wild words, declaring that those who did not join in contending against the Pope could not be saved, and that those who took delight in the Pope's religion must be lost for ever. He then wrote an abusive reply to the Bull, hurling all sorts of bad names against the Pojp, and pushing his Augustinian doctrines to so extreme a point as to amount to fatalism. Grand as is the figure of Luther on the page of history, as, in December 1520, he dared to make himself the mouth-piece of Germany, demanding reform, threatening revolution if reform could not be had, it must be admitted Erasmus \h7iX he was playing with fire. Was not the fears revolu- tj-^in already laid for revolution ? Will not such wild words lead to still wilder acts of the ignorant peasantry ? Sober-minded lookers on, like Erasm.us, feared this. He had feared from the first that Luther's want of discretion might bring on a ' universal revolution,' and had therefore urged moderation. Instead of moderation had come still wilder defiance. 'Now,' he wrote, ' I see no end of it but the turning upside down ' of the whole world. . • . When I was at Cologne I ' made every effort that Luther might have the glory of 'obedience and the Pope of clemency, and some of the ' sovereigns approved this advice. But lo and behold, 'the burning of the Decretals, the "Babylonish captivi- a i / hesitate to ror. In order to persuade them, Aleander, edict agaill^t the papal nuncio, delivered at another ses- Luther. gj^j^ ^f ^^ jjjgj. ^ speech nine hours in length, in which he inveighed against the heresies of Luther, urged that he should be condemned unheard, and declared that 'unless the heresy were stopped, Germany would be reduced to that frightful state of barbarism and desolation which the superstition of Mahomet had brought upon Asia.' The Electors seemed to be swayed by his eloquence. They cared little for Luther's doctrinal heresies, nay, they were willing to sacrifice the heretic if the grievances of the Ger- man nation against Rome could but be remedied. But these grievances were too real to be passed over so easily. The Diet, after further delay, appointed a committee to draw up a list of these grievances. Meanwhile the speech of Aleander had been reported to Hutten, who was staying, as we said, at the castle of Franz von Sickingen, a few miles from Worms. It Hutten ad- o ' jures the Stirred his wrath to think of Luther's bemg to yield to Condemned unheard. At once, on the spur Rome. q£ jj^g moment, he dipped his pen in gall, and wrote letters of violent invective against the papal nuncio and the bishops assembled at Worms. One of them was addressed to the Emperor, declaring that the hope of Germany had been that he would free her from the Romish yoke and put an end to the papal tyranny, and contrasting with these high hopes ' so great an Em- peror, the king of so many peoples, cringing willingly to slavery, without waiting even till he is forced.' ' What 1 ' he cxxlaimed, ' has Germany so ill deserved of thee that ivith thee, not ilchting for thee, it must go to the ground ; lead us into danger ! Lead us into battle and fire I Let all nations unit© CH. IV. The Crisis — Reform or Revolution. iig against us, all peoples rush upon us, so that at least we may prove our courage in danger ! Don't let us, cringing and unmanly, with- out battle, lie down like women and become slaves ! " Such was the shrill cry of scorn which the course things were taking at Worms called forth from Hutten. When the list of grievances was brought in at a future sitting of the Diet, the debate was resumed. The com- plaints against Rome were so strongly put that they made a deep impression on the Diet. The Electors re- covered from the effects of the nuncio's speech. The Prince Electors who sided with Luther urged that ' it ' would be iniquitous to condemn a man without hearing ' him, and that the Emperor's dignity and piety were ' engaged that, should Luther retract his errors, those ' other matters should be recognized on which he had ' written so learnedly and Christianly, and that Germany ' should, by the authority of the Emperor, be freed from ' the burdens and tyrannies of Rome.' They urged also the necessity of granting Luther a safe-conduct, and sum- moning him to appear before the Diet to defend himself. The Emperor gave way, and on March 6 the sum- mons and safe-conduct were issued, and an ^ , Luther imperial herald sent to bring Luther to summoned to ... Worms. Worms. (f) Luther s journey to Worms [/j2/). The herald arrived at Wittenberg, and on April 2 Luther set out for Worms. That he went with his mind fully made up not to give way or patch up his quarrel with the Pope was shown by this. He left in the hands of Lueas Cranach, , • r ITT- 1 • r Luther's the great pamter 01 Wittenberg, a series 01 Antithesis wood-cuts prepared by Cranach, with expla- and Anti- nations in German at the foot, added by '^^"^^- I20 The Protestant Revolution. P'l. ii. himself, depicting the Antithesis, or Contrast between Christ and the Pope. It was, in his own words, ' a good book for the laity.' He and Hutten, to widen the circle of their readers, and make their appeals to the Fatherland heard by all classes, had scattered their pamphlets in German all over Germany. Luther now called in the aid of these wood-cuts to make his appeal still more popular and telling on the multitude. Luther had found himself, to his own surprise, following in the track of the Hussites of Bohemia. He had openly avowed it. Indeed, he seems to have been fond of copying some of their acts, perhaps to mark the identity of his object with theirs. They had commenced with burning the Papal Bull, a^d so had Luther. It was re- corded in the Hussite chronicles that one of the things which roused the people in Bohemia against the Pope was the painting by tow Englishmen on the walls of an inn at Prague of two pictures, one representing Christ entering Jerusalem meek and lowly, on an ass ; the other the Pope proudly mounted on horseback, glitter- ing in purple and gold. Luther and Cranach had im- proved upon this example, and produced a series of wood-cuts with a precisely similar intention. Christ refusing a crown was contrasted with the Pope in his tiara. Christ in the crown of thorns, being beaten and mocked, was contrasted with the Pope on his throne, in all his magnificence. Christ washing the disciples' feet was contrasted with the Pope holding out his sacred toe to be reverently kissed by his courtiers. Christ heal- ing the sick was contrasted with the Pope watching a tournament. Christ bending under the burden of his Cross was contrasted with the Pope borne in state on men's shoulders. Christ driving the money-changers out CH. IV. The Crisis — Reform or Revolution. \z\ of the temple was contrasted with the Pope seUing his dispensations, and with piles of money before him. Christ's humble entry into Jerusalem was contrasted with the Pope and his retinue in all their glory, but the road they are travelling is shown in the background of the picture to lead to hell. Finally, the Ascension of Christ is contrasted with the descent of the Pope, in his triple crown and papal robes, headlong under an escort of de- mons and hobgoblins, into the flames of the bottomless pit. That he left behind him tliis ' good book for the laity,' to be published in his absence, was a mark of the defiant spirit in which he went to Worms. But underneath this spirit of defiance, it must never be forgotten, was a deep feeling that he was fighting in the cause of God. ' My dear brother,' he said to Melanchthon, in parting, 'if I do not come back, if my enemies put me to death, you will go on teaching and standing fast in the truth ; if you live, my death will matter little.' Amidst the tears of his friends, he stepped into the covered wagon and commenced his journey. Others, too, thought he was g^oin^ out to his death. , , * o t> Luther sets At one place which he passed there was a off for priest who kept, hanging up in his study, a portrait of Savonarola. He took down the picture from the wall and held it up in silence before Luther. Luther was moved. 'Stand firm,' said the priest, 'in the truth thou hast proclaimed, and God will as firmly stand by thee.* The journey took him twelve days. ,, , His journey. He had to pass through Erfurt, the scene of his mental struggles. He spent a night at the old con- vent, and the next day, contrary to the terms of his safe- conduct, fearlessly preached in the little church of the convent to crowds of people. Earnest tender words »vere his that day, setting forth that true religion is a 122 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. thin<^ of the heart, and not of ceremonies or penances, moving multitudes to tears, and making converts. la the midst of it a portion of the crowded building gave way, and people were terrified by the crash. In his wild imagination he set it down to Satan trying to hinder him. All through his journey he seemed to meet with the Devil at every step. If he was fatigued and ill, it was Satan who brought him low ; but, he wrote from Frank- fort to Spalatin, 'Christ lives, and we will enter Worms in spite of all the gates of Hell and the powers of the air ! ' These things did but prove his sense of the importance of the work in which he was engaged. His wild enthu- siasm grew out of what was true heroism. The noise, the worship of the crowd, the danger and excitement, would have turned the head of any mere enthusiast. When men are excited they must needs do strange things ; and of course on this journey to Worms strange things were done. At one place a parody on the Litany was produced, like the parodies made by modern revo- lutionary agents: — 'Have mercy upon the Germans. ' From the tyranny of the Roman Pontiff deliver the Ger- 'mans. From the insatiable avarice of the Romans 'deliver the Germans. That Martin Luther, that upright ' pillar of the Christian faith, may soon arrive at Worms, •we beseech Thee to hear us. That the zealous German ' Knight, Ulrich Hutten, the defender of Martin Luther, 'may persevere in upholding Luther, we beseech Thee to ' hear us,' and so on. Of course, wherever the procession stopped at night the inns were full ; there were crowds. Popular vulgar merry-making, and music. Luther excitement. himself played upon his flute, and doubtless, as his enemies reported, there was no lack of jollity over the beer. All this was in the very nature of things. The CH. IV. The Crisis — Reform or Revolution. 123 point to mark is this — it did not turn the head of Luther. When news of the enthusiasm occasioned by Luther's progress to Worms arrived at the city, the papal party became alarmed. Charles V. sent his private confessor with messages of compromise, but Luther refused to lis- ten till he reached Worms. It was well he did, for the safe-conduct was nearly expired, and there was danger of treachery. Luther's friends, too, became alarmed. Even Spalatin was afraid of his life if he entered Worms, and reminded him of the fate of Huss, whose safe-con- duct availed him little. Luther's noble reply was, ' Huss was burned, but not the truth with him.' He afterwards told the Elector of Saxony, when recalling Luther's he- to mind his own marvellous courage, ' The """"^ firmness. ' Devil saw in my heart that even had I known that ' there would be as many devils at Worms as tiles upon 'the house-roofs, still I should joyfully have plunged in ' among them ! ' As he drew near the city, six knights and a troop of horsemen of the princes' retinues went out to meet him; and under their escort, the Emperor's herald He enters leading the way, and a great crowd drag- °'^'"^' gling through the streets beside him, in his covered wag- on and monk's gown, Luther entered Worms. {d) LutJicr before the Diet. The next day, towards evening, he was brought before the Diet. The Emperor presided. Six Electors were present, and a large number of archbishops, Luther's first bishops, and nobility — about two hundred beforeThe*^ m all. There was a pile of Luther's books ■'-*'^'- on the table. The official then formally put to Luther two questions; 124 The Protestant Revolution. PT. ii. ' Do you acknowledge these books to be yours ? ' ' Do you retract the heretical doctrines they contain ? ' Luther replied, ' I think the books are mine ; ' and, He asks for after the titles had been read over, ' Yes time to consi- .i_ u i • » a ^ ii_ j der his an- ^^he books are mine. As to the second *^'^''' question, he said it would be rash for him to reply before he had had time for reflection. The papal party, who had expected to find Luthef raging like a lion, began to think he was going to give way. His deportment had been meek and modest. The youne Emperor turned to one of his cour- him till the tiers and said, This man will never make ay. ^ heretic of me.' Luther's request for time was allowed till the next day, and on condition that he gave his reply vh^d voce. He was taken back to his inn. People did not know what to make of it. Some thought he would retract. But, in the din and bustle around him, Luther wrote a letter to one of his friends. ' I write to you from the ' midst of the tumult. ... I confessed myself the author ' of my books, and said I would reply to-morrow touching 'my recantation. With Chris fs help, I shall never re- ' tract one tittle I * That night there was excitement and noise in the Excitement Streets; quarrels between opposing parties in 111 Worms. (-{^g crowd, and soldiers rushing about. The next day Luther prepared himself. He was heard to pray earnestly, and had his Bible open before him. At four o'clock the herald came to bring him before the Diet. The streets were full of people, and spectators looked down from the tops of the houses as the herald led him through passages and private ways to escape the crowd. It was dark before they reached the hall, and torches were lit. As Luther walked up the hall CH. IV. The Crisis — Reform or Revolution. 125 several noblemen met him with encouraging words, amongst whom was the old General Frundsberg, of whom we shall hear more hereafter. The hall was crowded, and some time was lost before the Princes and Electors were settled in their places. The official at length — two hours after , , 1 . Luther's time opened the prOCeedmgS. second ap- pearance ' Martin Luther, yesterday you acknowledged the before the books published in your name. Do you retract those books or not ? . . . Will you defend all your writings or dis- avow some of them ? ' Luther replied, in a speech which seemed to his ene- mies long and rambling ; but according to his own and Spalatin's version of it, the pith of what he said was this : — 'Most serene Emperor! Illustrious Princes, &c., — At the time fixed for me yesterday evening I am here, as in duty bound, and I pray God that your Imperial Majesty will be pleased to listen, as I hope graciously, to these matters of speech, justice and truth. And should I from inexperience omit to gfive to any one his proper titles, or offend against the etiquette of courts, I trust you will pardon me, as one not used to them. ' I beseech you to consider that my books are not all of the same kind. ' (i) There are some in which I have so treated of faith and morals that even my opponents admit that they are worthy to be read by Christian people. If I were to retract these, what should I do but — I alone, among all men — condemn what friends and foes alike hold to be truth ! ' (2) Others of my books are against the papacy and popish proceedings — against those whose doctrine and example have wasted and ruined Christendom, body and soul. This no one can gainsay, for the experience of all men, and the complaints of all, bear witness that through the laws of the Pope and the teaching of men the consciences of the faithful have been vexed and wronged, and 126 The Protestatit Revolution. FT. II. the goods and possessions of this great German nation by faithless tyranny devoured and drained — yes, and will without end be devoured again ! . . . . Now if I were to retract these, I should do nothing but strengthen this tyranny. To its vast unchristian influence I should not only open the windows but the door also, so that it would rage and spoil more widely and freely than it has ever yet dared to do. Under cover of this my recantation, the yoke of its shameless wickedness would become utterly unbearable to the poor miserable people, and it would be thereby established and confirmed all the more if men could say that this had come about by the power and direction of your Imperial Majesty, and ot the whole Roman Empire. Good heavens ! what a great cloak of wickedness and tyranny should I be ! ' (3) The third kind are those books which I have written against some private persons, as, for instance, against those who have undertaken to defend the Roman tyranny, and to oppose what I thought to be the service of God, against whom I know I have been more vehement than is consistent with the character and position of "a Christian. For I do not set myself up as holy. I do not, however, dispute for my own life, but the doctrine of Christ. I cannot retract even these books, but I am ready to listen to anyone who, can show me wherein in these books I have erred." Here Luther paused. He had spoken in German with, as he thought, modesty, but with great fervour and determination. The perspiration stood on his brow, he was exhausted with the effort of speaking : but when the Emperor, who hardly understood German, ordered him to repeat what he had said in Latin, after whisper- ing to a privy counsellor of the Elector of Repeats his ° ir 1 speech in Saxony, who stood by him, he obeyed, and repeated his words in the language which not only Charles but the papal nuncio could understand. And now, as they understood more fully what he said, the anger of the papal party was naturally rnore kindled. When he had done, the orator of the Court, betraying his hostility by his manner, declared that Luther's an- CH. IV. The Crisis — Refomi or Revolution. 1 2 7 swer was not a fair one. They were not there to dispute about things that had long ago been settled by Councils. He demanded a plain, ungarnished answer. Would he recant or not ? Luther replied : — ■ ' Well, then, if your Imperial Majesty requires a plain answer, I will give one without horns or teexh ! It is this ; that I must be convinced either by the testimony of the Scriptures or clear arguments. For I believe things contrary recant, to the Pope and Councils, because it is as clear as day that they have often erred and said things inconsistent with themselves. I am bound by the Scriptures which I have quoted ; my conscience is submissive to the word of God : therefore I may not, and will not, recant, because to act against conscience is unholy and unsafe. So help me God ! Amen.' One Other attempt was made to get him to yield, but in vain, and night coming on, the Diet was adjourned to the following morning, to hear the decision of the Emperor. The princes retired through the dark streets to their several inns ; Luther to his. Frederic of Saxony sent for Spalatin and expressed his approval of Luther's conduct, except that perhaps he had spoken too boldly. Next morning, the 19th April, the Emperor sent to the princes a message written by his own hand, in French, declaring his intention to proceed against „., „ " '_ ° . 1 he Lmperor Luther as an avowed heretic, and calling decides again.*; , . . , , Luther. upon the prmces to do the same. An at- tempt was then made by the papal party to induce the Emperor to rescind the safe-conduct of Luther. The precedent of Huss was cited. 'Why should not Luther, with Huss, be burned, and the Rhine receive the ashes of the one as it had those of the other? This proposal met with strong opposition from the princes, and was negatived. 128 The Protestant Retwlution. px. il. But while these discussions were going on in the Diet, murmurs were heard out of doors. The proposal to withdraw the safe-conduct roused the righteous indigna- „, ^ tion of men like Hutten to the point almost Threats of ^ revolution. of frenzy. A placard was found posted on the walls of the Town Hall, stating that 400 knights and 8,000 foot were ready to defend Luther against the Romanists. It had no signature, but under- neath were written the ominous words, 'Bundsc/iuh, Buiidschuh, Bundschuh' Rumours came of murmurs and movements of the people in distant parts of Ger- many. Franz von Sickingen, a few miles off the city, was said to be prepared to take to the sword, and the rumours of this inspired terror in the minds of the papal party, as it gave some colour of likelihood to the threats of Hutten and the placard. Under the influence of the fears thus excited, the .,,, ^, Electors prevailed upon the Emperor to give The Electors *^ ^ f b urge delay. a fcw days more for a further attempt to shake Luther's firmness. All was done that could be done to shake it, but with- out avail. Luther's mind was made up. Let the Pope and the Emperor do their worst, he would stand by his conscience and the Scriptures. At last, on the 26th of , ^ , April, he received orders from the Emperor Luther leaves '■ Worms. to depart on the followmg day. Twenty-one days were given him for his return to Wit- tenberg, and on the morrow, escorted as before by the imperial herald, Luther left the crowded streets of Worms and commenced his journey homewards. . , , , He left Worms the hero of the German \Vh3.t Luther had done at nation. He single-hailded had fought the Ge'rmany'^ battle of Germany against the Pope. He had hazarded his life for the sake of the Cii. IV. T/w Crisis — Reform or Rn'ohition. 129 Fatherland. It was this which made Luther's name a household word w'.th the Germans for ages to come. There is no name in the roll of German historic heroes so German, national, and typical as Luther's. But Luther fought a battle at Worms not only for Germany but Christendom — not only against the Pope, but against all powers, religious or secular, , , 1 , • , , ' and for who seek to lay chams upon the human Chnsten- mind and to enthrall the free belief of the """' people. Against the Emperor as well as the Pope, against all powers that be, he asserted the right of free- dom of conscience. (f) Edict against Luther. No sooner had Luther left Worms than the papal nuncio set himself to work to perfect his triumph. Lu- ther had not recanted, therefore the Emperor must issue an edict against hiin. The threatenings of Hutten had at first made the papal party nervous. They thought that he and Sick- ingen had really ready a force of soldiers to Fears of the make good their threats. Everywhere the p^p^' ^'"^y- feeling of the German nation in favour of Luther and against the Pope was apparent, and nowhere more so than at Worms. They felt themselves on dangerous ground. Luther, a few days before leaving the city, wrote an address to the German princes, containing an account of the proceedings at the Diet. This was soon scattered over Germany by the printers, and, just as the minds of the Germans were thus excited in favour of Luther, the rumour spread from city to city, that in spite of his safe- conduct, Luther was captured and had been -, f r Rumours ol cruelly treated. Popular indignation was Luther's ^, . . , _ captiure. thus roused ; murmurs rose agamst the Em- K 130 The Protestant Rtvoliiliofi. pt. ii. peror among the princes as well as the common people. Again the papal party feared nothing less than a general riot against the emperor and his ecclesiastical advisers, headed by Hutten and his friends. But at length news came that Luther was safe in friendly hands, having been secretly carried off to the castle of the Wartburg, in Thuringia, and kept there in safety by his own friends. As the days went by, the papal party gathering courage, began to laugh at Hutten'a threats as bluster, and strained every nerve to hasten on the issue of the imperial edict against Luther. The Elector of Saxony saw the turn things were tak- ing. He saw that Charles was won over by the Pope. The Elector He wrote to his brother that it was not only leaves""^ ' Annas and Caiaphas, but Pilate and Herod Worms. also,' that had combined against Luther, and not caring to remain where he could do no good, he left Worms. In fact Aleander, the papal nuncio, had triumphed. On May 8 a treaty was signed between Charles V. and the Pope, in which they mutually promised tween to have the same friends and the same andthe enemies, the Pope agreeing to side with the Pope. Emperor, and to exert all his powers to drive the French out of Milan and Genoa, and the Em- peror, as the price of the Pope's alliance, promising to employ all his powers against Luther and his party. Aleander had triumphed, and accordingly prepared an edict against Luther. It required some cleverness to get The edict the Sanction of the Electors. The edict was against Lu- produced and read unexpectedly in the Em- '^^'■- peror's own apartments to such of the Elec- tors as remained in Worms, and received their hasty approval without discussion. The next Sunday, as en. IV. The Crisis — Reform or Revoiution. 131 Charles V. was in church, Aleander brought the official copies, and then and there obtained the imperial signa^ ture. He took care to date the edict on May 8, 1521, i. e., on the day when the treaty with the Pope was signed, though it was not really signed till some days after, and in the meantime the Elector of Saxony had left. The secretary of Charles V., Valdez, a friend of Eras- mus, writing from Worms on May 13, 152 1, to a Spanish correspondent, concludes his letter with these remarka- ble words ; ' Here you have, as some imagine, the end of this tragedy, but I am persuaded it is hot the end but the beginning of it. For ] perceive the minds of the Germans are greatly exas- ^ . , „ , , , Letter from perated agamst the Romish bee, and they do not Valdez the seem to attach much importance to the Emperor's Emperc.'s secretary, edicts; for since their publication, Luther s bookr are sold with impunity at every step and comer of the streets and market-places. From this you will easily guess what will happen when the Emperor leaves. ' This evil might have been cured with the greatest advantage tc the Christian Republic, had not the Pontiff refused a genera) council, had he preferred the public weal to his own private inter- ests. But while he insists that Luther shall be condemned and burned, I see the whole Christian Republic hurried to destruction unless God himself help us. Farewell.' The secretary of Charles V. naturally laid all tha blame on the Pope. He little knew how much his mas- ter also was to blame. The Elector of Saxony was not far wrong when he hinted that if the Pope and his nun- cios were acting the part of Annas and Caiaphas, Charles V. was acting the part of Pilate and Herod. Let us try to unravel the entangled skein of political motives which influenced his conduct and his treaty with the Pope. 132 77/1? Protestant Revolution. PT. II. (y) Political reasons for the decision at Worms. We have seen how the great continental struggle had long been between France and Spain, and how Italy was the battle-field ; how both claimed Naples and Milan ; how France had been the first to invade Italy ; how France and Spain at one time agreed tw'een^ Spain to share Naples between them ; how France and France. ^^^ Milan, and then, after the two had quar- relled over the prey, Spain got Naples ; how then they had joined again with the Pope and Germany in the league of Cambray against Venice ; and how, listly, the robbers quarrelling again over th3 spoil, the Pope united Spain, Germany, and England with himself in a holy league to drive France out of Italy, and so France again lost Milan. Then came the succession of young Francis I. to the throne of France, his boast that he would make France the master of Europe, as she was wont to be, his brilliant campaign of 151 5 in which he gained the battle of Marignano against the Swiss, and soon after recovered Milan. Then came the struggle for the Empire, and the beginning of the ascendancy of Spain in Europe by Charles V.'s accession to the German throne. In the political combinations which followed, it was the fate of Francis to be left out in the cold. Leo X. was anxious to league himself in close alli- Intngues of • , i , i i i • • i princes. ance With Charles V., and by his aid to France the drive the French out of Italy. Henry VIII. common ^^^^ ^jg^ exceedingly anxious to form a enemy of the t' -' Pope, Spain, close alliance with Charles V. His mar- and England. i , , . ^ i • riage with Charles aunt, Catherine of Arra- gon, was already a link between England and Spain. Henry wanted to bring about another by a contract of marriage between Charles V. and the young Princess CH. IV. The Crisis — Reform or Revolution. 133 (afterwards queen) Mary, although she was ahxady en- gaged to the Dauphin of France. Charles V., in his turn was equally anxious to form such alliances as would strengthen his position against France. He was jealous of the conquests of Francis I. in Italy, and as Emperor of Germany considered himself entitled to Milan, which Francis had conquered. An alliance, therefore, with the Pope and England against France was most to his purpose, but it did not suit his purpose that Henry V. H, should know it. All the princes were playing a double game and trying to outwit one another. Henry coquetted with Francis in order to make Charles fall in with his wishes out of jea- lousy. Charles was coquetting both with France and England, proposing marriage with a French princess while he was negotiating with Henry respecting the Prin- cess Mary, and worst of all, while he really intended to marry the Infanta of Portugal. He cared far more for Spain than he did for Germany, and by this match he hoped to unite some day Portugal and Spain. Henry VIII. devised an interview with Francis. Charles was jealous and came over to England. After this meeting with Charles, Henry embarked for France, and met Fran- cis on what, from the grandeur of the preparations, was called the ' Field of the Cloth of Gold.' Immediately afterwards he again met Charles at Gravelines, and did his best to secure his object with Charles while he kept Francis in the dark. But Charles chose a little longer to play fast and loose. In the meantime the Pope also was playing a double game. Whether to ally himself with Francis, who was preparing his army for another descent upon Italy, or with Charles V. and Henry VIII. against Francis, he kept an open question, though his preference was for the 134 T)ic Protcsta7it Rezwlution. pt. ii. latter plan, if only he could bring Charles V. to his terms ; the chief of them being that Charles should help him to put down the heretic Luther. The course which things took at the Diet of Worms was ruled by these political intrigues. The papal party triumphed. The Emperor, as we have seen, concluded an alliance on May 8 with the Pope against France and against Luther. The consequence was that Europe was to be given over once more to the ambitions and wars of its rival ^ , princes. All chances of reform, for the pre- Reform re- fused by sent, were gone. The Diet of Worms came powers"fom to an end wilhout having accomplished the nujtives work whicli Germany expected from it. Worst of all, the Emperor, instead of siding with Germany against the Pope, had chosen for his pri- vate purposes to side with the Pope against Germany. It is true a council of regency had been established, with the Elector of Saxony at its head, to manage the affairs of the Empire while the Emperor was busied with quelling a rebellion in Spain, and with his wars in Italy. But no decisive steps had been taken to stop those private wars which were the curse of Germany, and of which the cities so bitterly complained. No decisive steps had been taken to remedy the ecclesiastical grievances of which the princes complained. The grievances of the much enduring peasantry had not even been talked of. And as the worst sign of the times, Luther had been con- demned by both Pope and Emperor. The fears of Erasmus were fulfilled, and his bitter words justified by the result. 'Ecclesiastical hypocrites reign in the courts of princes . . . The Pope and Prin- ces treat the people as cattle in the market.' The reform, both of the Oxford and of the Wittenberg CH. V. Revolution. 135 Reformers, had been refused by the ruling powers. There was nothing left but revolution. CHAPTER V. REVOLUTION. {a) The Prophets of Revolution {^1^22). The edict of the Emperor issued at the Diet of Worms was published all over Germany. But the papal party were astonished to find how very little peo- ^ , ^ , Popular feel- pie thought of it. The Germans thought a ing against the great deal more of the bold conduct of Lu- ther. So that the end of it was that the edict was treated with very much the same neglect as the Pope's Bull. Luther's books were burned in some places under the eye of the Emperor, Everywhere else they were read all the more. And another thing happened which the papal party had not foreseen. They had for the moment silenced Luther. He was safe in the castle of the Luther in the Wartburg, and silent, too, albeit he was ''^artburg. hard at work at what would do more to spread the spirit of reform than anything else, viz. translating the Bible into the mother tongue of the Fatherland. Meanwhile the absence of Luther from his wonted place at Wittenberg did not take away the firebrand as they thought it would, but put it in the hands , , In his absence of the mob. In Luther's absence wilder wilder spirit, spirits came to the top. Monks left the con- vents and went to trades. Under the leadership of Carlstadt, the form of public worship was changed. Ex- cited and half-crazy men, carried away by their zeal, set 136 The Protestant Rcvolutioti. pt. ii. themselves up as prophets and preached strange doc- trines. At Zwickau, under the range of the Erzgebirge, south of Wittenberg, near Bohemia, lived a weaver of the name of Claus Starch. He and some of his comrades fancied they were inspired. They mistook their own ex- cited imaginations for messages from of Zwickau^*^ hcaven. They wanted no priests, for they were themselves prophets, no Bible, for they were themselves inspired, and they went about preach- ing violent changes, and exciting the crowds who lis- tened to them to violent deeds. Driven away from Zwickau by the authorities, sonit of them came to Wittenberg, where the people were already making great changes under the leadership of Carhtadt. Carlstadt was carried away by their zeal, and so were the people. Riots were raised. People went about smash- ing the images in the churches, and even Melanchthon, in Luther's absence, was half inclined to believe in the prophets, though they preached the uselessness of learn- ing and universities. These things came to the ear of Luther in his retreaf at the Wartburg. He at once saw how all this delusion , , and madness would injure the cause of the Luther comes ■' back to Wit- Reformation. At the risk of his life he left his place of concealment. He suddenly ap^ peared at Wittenberg in his old pulpit. He entreated his old flock to calm their excitement ; and not without avail. After ten months' absence, the familiar sound of his voice soothed their passions. They recognized him once more as their leader. The prophets came to visit him — and this \t, a proof of their sincerity — expecting him at once to I'dmit their claims. Luther did not doubt that they we^e inspire^l. CH. V. Revolution. 137 but warned them lest their inspiration should ^^^ confronts come from Spirits of Evil. One of them, the prophets. with the voice and tones of an enthusiast, stamping his feet, and striking his hands on the table, gave vent to his horror at the suggestion ; and then, gathering up his dignity, in a tone which almost shook the com- mon sense of Luther, said solemnly, ' That thou mayst know, O Luther, that I am inspired by the Spirit of God, I will tell thee what is passing in thy mind.' And then as Luther, really for the moment half carried away by his impressive manner, was beginning to waver, ' It is' (he added), ' That thou art ready to think that my doctrine is true.' To which Luther, suddenly re- His common covering himself replied, ' The Lord rebuke ^'^"^'^ prevails. thee, Satan! The God whom I worship will soon put a stop to your spirits.' And with these parting words he dismissed the prophets of Zwickau. Order was restored at Wittenberg. The Scriptures were again acknowledged as the rule of faith, and be- fore the end of the year the New Testa- „, , / The prophets ment was published in the German tongue, driven from r^, T , T-, r • 1 r Wittenberg. The Lutheran Reformation was severed tor ever from the wilder reforms of Carlstadt and the prophets of Zwickau ; and the latter were soon driven from Wittenberg, to spread their doctrines in other places where there was no Luther to withstand them. One of the disciples of Storch at Zwickau was Munzer, but instead of going to Wittenberg, he went ^^ first into Bohemia, and then all over that becomes the part of Germany where Joss Fritz had been. of*the^ He became very soon the prophet of the v^^^^^^'^- peasantry. We must look even upon Munzer as honest and sincere, though wild. He thought himself inspired, and 138 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. preached like a prophet. Along with many reforms which Luther also urged, he claimed for the people the right of having divine worship performed in their own language instead of in the Latin of the priests. He preached a crusade against all who opposed the gospel, and urged a resort to the sword if preaching would not do. Driven from city to city, he went more and more among the peasants; and who shall blame him if he took up their grievances? Was it not natural? His own father, it is said, had fallen a victim to a quarrel with his feudal lord. He began to think himself the chosen messenger of heaven to avenge their wrongs ; and as he preached from place to place amongst the peasantry, and others like him followed in his track, it was not strange if it stirred up again in the minds of the disciples of Joss Fritz recollections of the days of the Bundschuh. {b) The end of Sickitigcn and Hiitten, (1523). The council of regency appointed at the Diet of Worms to represent the Empire during the Emperor's absence in Spain (whither he had gone to quell a rebel- lion of his subjects) was made up of princes who had more or less sympathy with Luther. Frederic "A Saxony was at the head of it. It was the nearest approach io a central government which had _, „ ., been formed. It was thoroughly German Ihe Council ... o y of Regency and national in spirit, and aimed at tho- Electorof roughly national objects. It aimed not at ftrwT/to carrying out the edict against Luther, but at avert the obtaining from future diets those reforms storm, which had been refused at Worms. It aimed at putting down private wars and the establish- ment of public peace. L'H. V, Revolution. 139 But it had no power at its back to carry out its inten- tions. Its efforts to obtain something Hke union among the powers of Germany in the work of reform were fruitless ; and so were its efforts to put down private wars. Knights hke Franz von Sickingen saw in it an attempt of the princes to put down the influence of their order. Its attempt to obtain the means to pay for national ob- jects by a system of customs — duties on luxuries im- ported into Germany from abroad — was , ,11 , r 1 1 °"' meets taken by the merchants of the towns to be with oppo- an invasion of their rights. So it was un- popular and powerless, though its intentions were good. Its powerlessness to preserve the public peace was soon shown in a great private war which was waged by i'ranz von Sickingen in \^2i-'x against the Franz von .,,., ^ :> O b Sickingen Archbishop of Treves. The knight besieged takes to the Treves with his army of 5,000 foot-soldiers " ' sail 1,500 knights, and declared that he came to bring the people freedom from the Pope and priests, and to punish the archbishop for his sins against God and the Emperor. What could be a stronger example to the peasantry to take to the sword than such an act of the popular knight ! He counted upon the people of the town aiding him from within the walls, but was disappointed. The city held out till some neighbouring princes came to its rescue with an army of 30,000 men. On their approach, Franz retired to his castle of Landshut, there not being time to reach that of Ebernburg. There he was himself be- sieged. The cannon of the princes were powerful enough to batter down the solid walls, which before the use of t40 The Protestant Revolution. PT. ii, , artillery would have been impreErnable. H« but is defeated , ,, ^ , .,, , ,• , and kUled. held out for months, till at last a solid towei fell into a heap of ruins, and a breach was made in the walls. Franz himself was wounded and dying when his conquerors entered the castle. They upbraided him for disturbing the peace of the Empire. ' I am going,' he said, as he lay upon the floor, dying, , , , 'to render an account to a greater than the Huttens death. ^ . Emperor; and soon after he expired. His friend Hutten died in the same year, while trying to urge other knights to aid Sickingen, and this was the end of the knights of Ebernburg Castle. They had threatened to reform the Empire by the sword. The peasantry had looked to them as their best knightly friends. They had done much by their pens and swords, their voice and example, to stir up warlike ^, feeling among the peasantry, but their end 1 he peasantry t. o i j got nothing Came before the peasants had got any help knights. from them. In the meantime it was also clear that the council of regency was unable to preserve the public peace, as well as to bring about the needed reform. If help was to come neither from the Emperor and the council of regency, nor from the knights, where were the peasantry to turn next? Was not the time ripe for rebellion ? [c] The Peasants' War (1525). We must turn again to the map on which are marked the districts where lay the smouldering embers of the Bundschuh, waiting only for the match to light them up again. On the opposite map are marked the districts in which, one after another, the explosions came. The connexion between the two maps will be seen at a CH. V. Revolution. 141 glance. Joss Fritz had kept the embers ahve by his se- cret work in Swabia. The expulsion of Carlstadt from Wittenberg had sent him into the towns on the Rhine and in Franconia to stir up discontent and a spirit of re- bellion, not only against Rome, the priests and monks, but also against Luther, through whose in- ^ , , , ° , , ,, , , , Carlstadt and nuence he had been expelled. Miinzer had Murrerstirup been driven from city to city, and thence into Southern Germany, to carry on the work of stirring up rebellion. The train was indeed laid, and in November, 1524, the match was put to it in the very places where it was laid the deepest. The match was a little thing. The much-enduring peasantry of Swabia, and most of all, those about the Boden See (Lake Constance) needed but the last straw to break the back of their endurance. It was a holiday, and the peasants on the estates of the Count von Liipfen were resting at home or taking the day for work on their own land. Orders came from the Count that they should turn out and gather snail-shells for the folk at the Castle. It was of the peasant- the very littleness of the thing which made ^ '" S^^'^'^'- it so unbearable. They rose up in arms, and so did their neighbours in the valleys round. Soon all Swabia was in insurrection. The council of regency sent ambassadors to mediate between the peasants and their lords of the Swabian League. But it was of no use. They had not power to keep the public peace. Neither party listened to them. The peasants put forth twelve articles in which they stated their demands. Here, in brief, is a list of them. A mere glance will show that they were the old demands of the days of the BundscJiuJi, with a feM additions. 142 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. 1. The right to choose their own pastors. 2. They would pay tithe of corn, out of which the pastors should be paid, the rest going to the use of the Their twelve parish. — But small tithes, i.e., of the pro- articles, duce of animals, every tenth calf, or pig, or ^Zg, and so on, they would not pay. 3. They would be free, and no longer serfs and bondmen. 4. Wild game and fish to be free to all. 5. Woods and forests to belong to all for fuel. 6. No services of labour to be more than were required of their forefathers. 7. If more service required, wages must be paid for it. 8. Rent, when above the value of the land, to be prop- erly valued and lowered. 9. Punishments for crimes to be fixed. 10. Common land to be again given up to common use. 11. Death gifts {i. e., the right of the lord to take the best chattel of the deceased tenant) to be done away with. 12. Any of these articles proved to be contrary to the Scriptures or God's justice, to be null and void. From this list of most substantial grievances we may well gather what the peasants were aiming at. We see Not likely to ^^^ they aimed, like simple men, at the re- be granted by moval of the practical grievances and hard- either Pope, ^ nobles, or ships of their life. But their demands were not at all likely to be granted. For instance, if they had the choice of pastors they would choose men like Miinzer, and Carlstadt, and Storch, and perhaps even wilder spirits than these, so that neither the Pope nor Luther would be likely to concede that demand. Nor, of course, would the proud feudal lords like to lose their game and the forced labour of their serfs, and to meet their peasants on equal terms as free men, any more CH. V. Revolution. 143 than the slave-holders of America liked to have slavery abolished. We may guess, too, how the ecclesiastics would tremble to hear of their small tithes being taken away, and other pastors being chosen instead of themselves. Had the feudal lords granted proper and fair reforms long ago, they would never have heard of these twelve articles. But they had refused reform, and they now had to meet revolution. And they knew of but one way of meeting it, namely, by the sword. The lords of the Swabian League sent their army of foot and horsemen under their captain, swabian George Truchsess. The poor peasants could peasants ° _ . ' ^ _ crushed in not hold out against trained soldiers and cav- April 1525. airy. Two battles on the Danube, in which thousands of peasants were slain, or drowned in the river, and a third equally bloody one in Algau, near the Boden See, crushed this rebellion in Swabia, as former rebellions had so often been crushed before. This was early in April 1525. But in the meantime the revolution had spread further north. In the valley of the Neckar a body of 6,000 peasants had come together, enraged by the news of the slaughter of their fellow peasants in the south of Swabia. The young Count von Helfenstein, a friend of the Arch- duke Ferdinand, who had married a natural daughter of the late Emperor Maximilian, lived at the castle in ihe town of Weinsberg, in this district. He seems to have so far lost his head in these days of tenor as to have cut the throats of some peasants who met him on ., , ,_, . Insurrection tne road. 1 his enraged them the more. The on the town and castle were stormed and taken by Apri^'"^' the peasants, under their leaders, Florian '525- Geyer, Wendel HIpler, and Little Jack Rohrbach. Th« Z44 ^'^''^ Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. Count offered a large sum of money for a ransom, but the stern reply of the peasants was, 'he must die though he were made of gold.' While the peasants were plundering the castle, the monastery, and the houses of the priests, the leaders held a council. Hipler advised moderation. He hoped that the smaller lords would, after all, side with the pea- sants. But Little Jack was a man of another kind. In the dead of night he held a council of his own, and doomed every knight and noble in Weinsberg to imme- diate death. As day was breaking the Count and other noble prisoners were led forth, surrounded by a circle of pikes with their steel points inward. The tears and pleadings of the Countess, with her babe in her arms, availed nothing. The peasants stood in two opposite ranks, with a passage between the points of their pikes. A piper of the Count mockingly led the way, inviting his late master to follow on a dance of death. The Count and nobles were compelled to follow. The ranks closed upon them, and they were soon pierced to death. A wild peasant woman stuck her knife into the Count's body, and smeared herself with blood. And so, un- „, , known to the other leaders and to the mas- 1 he peasants revenge for scs of the peasantry, ' Little Jack,' on that Slaughter. terrible morning, had revenged the thou- sands of his comrades slain by the Swabian lords, blood for blood. A yell of horror was raised through Germany at the news of the peasants' revenge. No yell had risen when the Count cut peasants' throats, or the Swabian lords slew thousands of peasant rebels. Europe had not yet learned to mete out the same measure of justice to noble and common blood. But the eye of history cannot so be blinded. It records that about a month after, Truch- CH. V. Revolution. 145 sess, the captain of the Swabian League, „, ,. . ^ _ 1 he retaliation came northwards, and fell upon this band of the nobles, of peasants with his more disciplined sol- ^^ '^^^' diers and horsemen. One night, after a bloody battle, in which several thousand peasants were slain, the piper of Weinsberg was recognized amongst the prisoners — he who had piped to the dance of death at the murder of the Count von Helfenstein. Truchsess and the new Count von Helfenstein, who was with him, had him fastened with an iron chain about two feet long to an apple tree. With their own hands they and other nobles helped to build up a circular pile of wood round their victim, and then they set fire to the pile. It was night ; and amid the groans of wounded and dying peasants on the battle- field around them, and the drunken revelry of the camp, was heard the laughter of these nobles as they watched their victim springing shrieking from point to point of the fiery circle within which he was slowly roasted to death. Such was the revenge of nobles upon peasants. But the revolution spread, and the reign of terror spread with it. North and east of the valley of the Neckar, among the little towns of Franconia, riAT- 11 Insurrection in and m the valleys 01 the Mame, other bands Franconia. of peasants, mustering by thousands, de- stroyed alike cloisters and castles. Two hundred of these lighted the night with their flames during the few weeks of their temporary triumph. And here another feature of the revolution became prominent. The little towns were already, under the preaching of Carlstadt and such as he, passing through an internal „ , . . ^ ° ° _ , Revolution in revolution. The artisans were rising against the towns of the wealthier burghers, overturning the town councils, and electing committees of artisans in their l)lace, making sudden changes in religion, putting down 146 The ProtestoMt RevoMTion. pr. n, the Mass, unfrocking priests and monks, and in fact, in the interests of what they thought to be the gospel, turn- ing all things upside down. A few extracts from the diary of a citizen of the free imperial fortified town of Rothenburg, on the Tauber, may serve to fix on the mind a clear impression of the Peasants' War, as it seemed to a citizen of a Franconian town during the course of the events which he noted in his log-book in this terrible year 1525. March 19. — The Carlstadt sect being favoured by citizen of ^^^ magistrates, Carlstadt himself came to Rothen- Rothenburg. burg, preached here, and wanted to become a citizen. March 21. — Thirty or forty peasants bought a kettle-drum and went about proudly, insolently, and mischievously, up and down the city. March 23. — About 400 peasants assembled. March 24. — All citizens were called to the Rathhausand enjoined to stand by the honourable council. Only twenty-six do so ! The rest elect a committee of thirty-six. Messengers are sent to the peasants to inquire their plans. The peasants replied that they were not all collected yet. Letters come from Markgraf Casimir, and are read to the people, offering help, and to come in person to make peace. Some of the people treated the message with scorn and laughter. This evening, between five and six, the head of the image of Christ on the Cross is struck off, the arms broken and the pieces knocked about the churchyard. March 25. — The committee of thirty-six frighten the council into submission. March 26, Sunday. — The priest driven from the altar and his mass book thrown down. The peasants deploy themselves before the Galgen-thor. 3farch 27. — The priest insulted, and his book thrown down whilst performing mass. March 28.^700 peasants assembled, and force other peasants to join them. CH. V. Revolution. 147 March 31. — The peasants have increased to 2,000. Lorenz Knobloch having promised to be a captain, has gone out to them. Messengers from the Imperial Council came to make peace, but without result. April 4. — The oil lamps thrown down during the sermon. The peasants go about plundering cupboards and cellars, April 8, Good Friday. — The service done away. No one sang or read. But Dr. Drechsel preached against emperor, king, princes and lords, spiritual and temporal, for hindering the word of God. April 10, Easter Day. — Hans Rothfuchs called the sacrament idolatry. No service. April 11. — Dr Carlstadt preached against the sacrament. At night the Kupferzell (cloister) sacked by some millers, and tables and pictures thrown into the Tauber. April 12. — Declarations made that priests may marry. April 13. — Dr. Carlstadt preached again against the sacraments and ceremonies. April 14. — Some women run up and down the streets with forks, pikes, and sticks, making a row and declaring that they will plunder all priests' houses. April 15. — Priests are obliged to become citizens for safety. Every citizen to give a gulden towards the watch, also take his turn at working at the fortifications. April 18. — The peasants demand 200 men and 100 long spears, a culverin, heavy field-pieces, and two tents. They are refused. The peasants reply that some citizens had promised help ; therefore they now demand it. April 23. — The peasants are told they shall have a reply in writing. April 28. — Corn given out, but only some take it. Knobloch torn to pieces by the peasants, and they pelted one another with the pieces. The peasants have been heard to say that they would soon see what the Rothenburgers were going to do ! May 1. — In the night they burned the cloister of E., plundered another, and burned the castle of C. May 8. — The people called together by the great bell in the parish church to hear a proposal of the Markgraf Casimir to com« 148 The Protestant Revolution. pt. 11, with his lady and jewels to Rothenburg ; and on the other hand to consider whether to send to the peasantry or not. May 10. — Three neighbouring cities have gone over to the pea- sants. They want Rothenburg to join them, too. At 6 o'clock people are called together again, and the majority decide to send artillery and spears to the peasants. May 12. — More monasteries are sacked. Twelve kildeikins of wine plundered by the people and drunk. May 15. — Florian Geyer (one of the peasants' leaders) in the parish church proposes articles of alliance with the peasants for loi years. Demanded that the committee and people should by oath and vow league themselves with the peasants. Which was done, although against the grain to some. Thus to-day Rothenburg has gone over from the Empire to the peasants! A gallows was erected in the market-place in token of this brotherhood, and as a terror to evil-doers. About 5 o'clock tents, wagons, powder are got ready and taken to the camp of the peasants, with intent to storm the castle of Wurtzburg. 300 peasants who went up on May 9 to storm the castle of Wurtzburg were all killed, part by the stones, part shot, part slain — taken like birds! (So the castle still held out.) Casimir of Brandenburg is marching with forces to chastise the peasants. May 19. — He burns four towns. Four peasants at L. are beheaded and seven have their fingers cut off. At N. eighteen citizens beheaded. May 27. — 4,000 peasants are slain in the valley of the Tauber by the allied powers. (The combined forces of the nobles were now joined by Truchsess, who had been victorious over the Swabian peasants.) May 29. — 8,000 more peasants slain by the allies. Three mes- sengers are sent from Rothenburg to Markgraf Casimir, carrying a red cross and fervently begging for mercy. No surrender would be accepted but on ' mercy or no mercy.' All citizens, clergy and laity, to pay seven florins for Blood and Fire Money, or to be banished thirty miles out of the city. The city to provide some tons of powder. June 2. — Wurtzburg retaken by the Bund. CH. V. Revolution. 149 June 24. — Mass said again, after thirteen weeks' interruption. June 29. — Markgraf Casimir came to Rothenburg with 800 horse, 1,000 foot, 200 wagons well equipped with the best artillery, which are placed in the market-place. June 30. — All citizens called by herald and ordered to assemble in the market-place, and form a circle under guard of soldiers with spears. It was announced that the Rothenburgers had revolted from the Empire and joined the peasants, and had forfeited life, honour, and goods. The Markgraf and many nobles were present. Twelve citizens were called out by name, and beheaded on the spot. Their bodies were left all day in the market-place. Several had fled who otherwise would have been beheaded. July 1. — Eight more beheaded. It was during the Franconian rebellion that the pea- sants chose the robber knight Goetz von Berlichingen as their leader. It did them no good. More than a robber chief was needed to cope with soldiers used to war. The failure of the Franconian rebel peasants was inevitable, and the wild vigour with which they acted in the mo- ments of their brief power did but add to the cruelty with which they were crushed and punished when the tide of victory turned against them. While all this was going on in the valleys ^ ^ , ,, • , 1-11 , ; Insurrection of the Mame, the revolution had crossed the in Elsass and Rhine into Elsass and Lothringen, and the ciown,'"May^ Palatinate about Spires and Worms, and in ^525, the month of May had been crushed in blood, as in Swabia and Franconia. South and east, in , . „ and in Bava- Bavaria, in the Tyrol, and in Carinthia Ha, the Tyrol, 1 ^1 J i • ^ ■ and Carinthia. also, castles and monasteries went up in flames, and then, when the tide of victory turned, the burning houses and farms of the peasants lit up the night and their blood flowed freely. Meanwhile Miinzer who had done so much to stir up £50 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. the peasantry in the south to rebel, had gone north into , Thuringia, and headed a revolution in the MUnzer heads r 11 an insurrection town 01 Mulhausen, and became a sort of unngia. Savonarola of a madder kind, believing himself inspired, talking of his visions, uttering prophe- cies, denouncing vengeance on all who opposed what he believed to be the gospel. He exercised over the citi- zens something of the influence that Savonarola had done in Florence. His intense earnestness carried them away. They could not help believing in him and re- garding him with awe. For a while the rich fed the poor, and under his eye there was almost a community of goods. But Miinzer, not content with visions and his prophetic office, madly appealed to the sword. When he heard of the revolution in Swabia, he seemed to sniff the breeze like a war-horse. He issued a proclair^a- tion to the peasantry round about : Arise ! fight the battle of the Lord ! On ! on ! on ! Now is the time ; the wicked tremble when they hear of you. Be pitiless ! Heed not the groans of the impious! Rouse up the proclama- towns and villages ; above all, rouse up the miners ''<>"• of the mountains ! On ! on ! on ! while the fire is burning ; on while the hot sword is yet reeking with the slaughter ! Give the fire no time to go out, the sword no time to cool ! Kill all the proud ones : while one of them lives you will not be free from the fear of man ! While they reign over you it is no use to talk of God ! . . . Amen. Given at Miihlhausen, 1525. Thomas Miinzer, servant of God against the wicked. These were some of the words which were meant to wake up echoes in the hearts of the neighbouring miners of Mansfeld, among whom the kindred of Luther dwelt! This was what had come of the prophets of Zwickau CH. VI. Revolution. 151 giving up their common sense and following visions and inspirations ! But the end was coming. The princes, with their dis- ciplined troops, came nearer and nearer. What could Miinzer do with his 8,000 peasants ? He pointed to a rainbow and expected a miracle, but no miracle came. The battle, of course, was lost. 5,000 peasants lay dead upon the field near the little town of Frankenhausen, where it was fought. Miinzer fled and concealed himself in a bed, but was found and taken before the princes, thrust £)eath of into a dungeon, and afterwards beheaded. Munzer. So ended the wild career of this misguided, fanatical, self-deceived, but yet, as we must think, earnest and in many ways heroic spirit. We may well believe that he was maddened by the wrongs of the peasantry into what Luther called a 'spirit of confusion.' The prince and nobles now everywhere prevailed over the insurgent peasants. Luther, writing on June 21, 1525, says: — ' It is a certain fact, that in Franconia 11,000 peasants have been slain. Markgraf Casimir is cruelly severe upon his peasants, who have twice broken faith with him. In the Duchy of Wurtemberg, 6,000 have been killed; in different places in Swabia, 10,000. It is said that in Alsace the Duke of Lorraine has slain 20,000. Thus everywhere the wretched peasants are cut down." The struggle extended into Styria and Carinthia, wliere there had been risings before, and lingered on longest in the Tyrol. It was not till Truchsess was aided by the General George Frundsberg, the old general who had shaken hands with Luther in the Diet of Worms, that victory was secured to the higher powers. Before the Peasants' War was ended at least 100,000 152 The Protestant Revolution. pt. 11, perished, or twenty times as many as were put to death in Paris during the Reign of Terror in 1793. So ended the peasants' revolution. For two hundred and fifty years more the poor German peasantry must bear the yoke of feudal serfdom. They must wait till, in the beginning of the nineteenth century, German statesmen, awakened by the French Revolution, saw the necessity of preventing another Peasants' War by granting a timely reform. Luther, throughout the Peasants' War, sided with the ruling powers. He was firm as a rock in opposing the „, . , use of the sword against the civil power. The attitude , r i of Luther The reform he sought was by means of the Peasants' civil powcr ; and in order to clear himself ^^''" and his cause from all participation in the wild doings of the peasantry, he publicly exhorted the princes to crush their rebellion. The peasants thought that in Luther (himself a peasant) they should have found a friend, but they were bitterly disappointed. He hounded on the princes in their work of blood. That Luther should be bitter against Miinzer and the wild prophets of revolution was but natural. He had seen the end from the beginning ; he had left his retreat in the Wartburg four years before to quell the tumults at Wittenberg. Driven out of Wittenberg the prophets had become madder still. No doubt Europe owed much to the right-mindedness of Luther in setting his face against a resort to the sword in the cause of reli- gious reform. Yet one cannot sympathize with Luther's harsh treatment of the peasantry and their misguided leaders. It cannot be denied that to some extent this revolution had grown up from the dragon's teeth that he himself had sown. There was a time when he himself had used wild language and done wild deeds. Eras' CH. V. Revolution. 153 mus had predicted that all Europe would be turned upside down in a universal revolution ; and had it not come to pass ? The monks blamed Erasmus and the new learning ; Erasmus blamed the wildness of Luther ; Luther blamed the wilder prophets. Who ,„, who was was to blame ? History will not lay blame really to on Erasmus or Luther, or on the wilder prophets, or on the misguided, peasantry, but on the higher powers whose place it was to have averted revo- lution by timely reforms. It was their refusal of reform which was the real cause of revolution. It was the con- spiracy of the higher powers at the Diet of Worms to sacrifice the common weal to their own ambitious ob- jects on which history will lay the blame of the Pea- sants' War. In the meantime let us not forget that there was one at least of the higher powers who had no share in the blame — one of them who had shown himself able to sacrifice his own ambition to the common weal, who had worked silently and hard for reform — Death of the the good Elector Frederic of Saxony. As Elector of the peasant rebellion under Miinzer was May 1525. going on in Thuringia, on the threshold of Saxony, he lay dying. He had no revengeful feelings. He did not urge on the slaughter of peasantry like Luther. He wrote to his brother, Duke John, who succeeded him as Elector, and who was gone with the army, to act pru- dently and leniently. If the peasants' turn had i-eally come to rule, God's will be done ! Only his servants were with him. 'Dear children,' he said to them, 'if I have offended any of you, forgive me, for the love of God ; we princes do many things to the poor people that we ought not to do ! ' Soon after he received the sacrament, and died. 154 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. {d) The Sack of Rome {/J2/]. Now let us see what was the result to the higher Alliance of powers thcmselves of the secret treaty of the Emperor WoriTis, May 8, 1 52 1, by which the Pope against France, and Emperor were to join their forces against France, and to secure which the interests of the German people were deliberately sacrificed. Henry VIII. of England soon joined the alliance against France. He had secret reasons to be mentioned Henry VIII. hereafter for keeping on good terms with joiHb It. Charles V. and the Pope, and so had his minister Cardinal Wolsey. Henry was tempted also with the prospect of winning back the English provinces in France, while Wolsey was flattered by the promises of Charles V. to do all he could to get him elected Pope on the next vacancy. The first skirmishes took place between Charles V. and Francis I. in the north, but with no decisive results. Meanwhile the allied army in Italy was strengthened and that of France weakened by the Swiss soldiers under the pay of France being withdrawn, and Swiss recruits ac- cepting imperial pay. The armies were soon in motion, and on Nov. 25, 1521, Leo X. received tidings that the Pope Leo X. allied army had triumphantly entered the dies, 1521. {^jfy of Milan, but while the rejoicmgs at Rome in celebration of their triumph were still going on, the Pope suddenly died, on December i, not without suspicion of poison. To the surprise of everyone the Emperor's old tutor , , . ,,, was now elected Pope under the title of Adrian \ I. Adrian VI. Charles V. had not used his influence to promote the success of Wolsey. Adrian was a Spaniard — a nominal governor in Spain while Ximenes really governed — and was more likely to serve Spanish CH, V Revolution. 155 interests than the wily English minister. Adrian was a sternly virtuous, well-meaning pope. He would have made peace if he could. He would have reconciled the German nation by reforms if he could, but with the wish he had not the power. Everything was against him ; he was old ; his reign was short, and he died clement Vll. in 1523, to make way, not for Wolsey, for Pope, 1523 again Charles V. played his own game, but for another of the Medici, Clement VII. He was not a Spaniard, but the most powerful ally of Spain that Italy could pro- duce among her cardinals. In the meantime the Duke of Bourbon (one of the Duchies which had become subject to the French crown) rebelled from Francis I. and joined the im- DukedeBour- perial leaeue against France. Henry VIIL bonjomsthe •TOO J league against also was once more tempted by a vague France, prospect of again annexing French provinces to the English crown, to help in the invasion of France. The result of this invasion was to rouse the national feeling, and therefore the power of France. It was un- successful, and ended in Francis I. assum- ^ . , . . Francis I. mg the offensive and crossmg the Alps, crosses the Then came the battle of Pavia in 1524, in ^^' which the imperial armies under the Duke atlhebatt°"o'f of Bourbon and the old German general P^^'^- ^rundsberg gained the victory, and Francis I. was taken prisoner. Henry VIII. began now to dream not only of getting back the lost English provinces, but even of being king of France. But Charles V. had little confidence in him and Wolsey. He was playing his own game, not that of Henry VIII, Pope Clement VII. meanwhile had expected Francis I. to win at the battle of Pavia, and, to make himself 156 The Protestant Revolution. pt. ii. safe, had come to secret terms of alliance with him, Before the battle of Pavia he had gone so far as almost to break with the Emperor. After the bat- tween"^Charles tie, all Italy began to be afraid that Spanish Pop"''''^'^ influence would become omnipotent; so a rupture between the Pope and Spain was imminent. In the meantime the Emperor removed his royal prisoner to Spain, so taking him out of the hands of his allies. Then came the breach between Charles V. and Henry VIIL, the marriage of Charles — so long in- tended but kept secret — to the Infanta of Portugal, in- stead of to the English Princess Mary ; the secret peace of Henry with France. In 1526, followed the release of Francis on his oath to observe conditions from which the Pope at once formally absolved him. This produced a final breach between the Emperor and the Pope, and an alliance between the Pope and Francis against the Em- peror. It was at this moment that the Diet of Spires was sitting. The Emperor had ordered that stringent mea- sures should be taken against the Lutheran Result at ° the Diet of heresy, and that the Edict of W^orms should -P're^- ^g carried out. This was impossible. The new Elector of Saxony, and those who sided with him, were too strongly backed for such a course to be taken. Now the breach between the Pope and the Emperor came to their aid. The Emperor no longer cared to back up the interests of a Pope who had quarrelled with him, and the result of the Diet was a decree signed by Ferdinand, the brother of Charles V., in the Emperor's stead, con- taining the memorable clause, that ' Each state should, as regards the Edict of Worms, so live, rule, and bear itself as it thought it could answer it to God and the Emperor * CH. V. Revolution. 157 This left the Catholic princes to do as they liked on the one hand, and the princes who favoured Luther to do as they liked on the other. From this decree of the Diet of Spires came the division of Germany into Catholic and Protestant states. This came out of the quarrel between the Pope and Emperor. The next thing was the gathering of a Ger- man army under George Frundsberg, an ar- March of a my composed almost entirely of Lutherans, ^^'^'^'"on under a Lutheran general, a host of discon- Rome, tented, wild, reckless men, who had siirvived the horrors of the Peasants' War, were inspired by hope of plunder, and inflamed by the zeal of Frundsberg, who declared, 'When I make my way to Rome, I will hang the Pope !' They crossed the Alps by a dangerous unguarded pass, descended into the plains of Lombardy, and then joined the Spanish army under the Duke of Bourbon. This was in January 1527. A few weeks more, and the combined army, 20,000 strong, was marching on Rome. Then came delays, rumours of a truce, and the mutiny of the Span- ish soldiers for their long-withheld pay. Lastly, the German soldiers also mutinied, in vexation at which the old veteran general Frundsberg fell powerless under a shock of paralysis. The army advanced under Bourbon, and then followed the commencement of the siege of Rome ; the death of Bourbon, shot as he was mounting a ladder ; and — the rest shall be told in the graphic words, which the brother of the Emperor's secretary Valdez put into the mouth of an eye-witness in his ' Dialogue on the Sack of Rome.' ' The Emperor's army was so desirous to enter Rome, some to rob and spoil, others for the extreme -phe sack hatred they bore to the Court of Rome, and "^ ^''"^ 5ome both for the one and the other cause, that the Span- t^S The Protestant Revolution. pt. ll. iards and the Italians on the one side by scale, and the Germans on the other side by pickaxes breaking down the wall, entered by the Borgo, on which side stands the Church of St. Peter and the Holy Palace. Though those within had artillery and those without none, yet they en- tered without the slaughter of a hundred of themselves. Of those within were slain, some say 6,000, but in truth there died not upon the entry above 4,000, for they im- mediately retired into the city. The Pope in his own palace was so careless that it was a wonder he was not taken, but seeing how matters stood, he retired himself into the castle of St. Angelo, with thirteen cardinals and other bishops and principal persons who stayed with him. And presently the enemies entered, and spoiled and sacked all that was in the palace, and the like did they to the cardinals' houses and all other houses within the Borgo, not sparing any, no not the Church of the Prince of the Apostles ! This day they had enough to do without entering Rome, whither our people, hoisting up the draw- bridge, had retired and fortified themselves. The poor Roman people, seeing their manifest destruction, would have sent ambassadors to the army of the Emperor to have agreed with him, and to have avoided the sack ; but the Pope would by no means consent to it. 'The captains of the Emperor presently determined to assault the city, and the very same night, fighting with their enemies, they entered, and the sack continued more than eight days, in which time they had no regard of nation, quality, or kind of men. The captains did what they could to stop it, but the soldiers, being so fleshed in their robberies as they were, you should behold troops of soldiers passing the streets with cries ; one carried prisoners, another plate, another household stuff. The sighs, groans, and outcries of women and children in aU CH. V. Revolution. 159 places were so piteous that my bones yet shake to make report of therr.. They carried no respect to bishops or cardinals, churches or monasteries; all was fish that came into their net; there was never seen more cruelty, less humanity, nor fear of God. 'They had no respect even to Spaniards and Ger- mans, and other nations that were vassals and servants to the Emperor. They left neither house, nor church, nor man that was in Rome unsacked or ransomed, not even the secretary Perez himself, who was resident at Rome on behalf of the Emperor. Those cardinals who could not escape with the Pope into the castle of St. Angelo were taken and ransomed, and their persons full ill- favouredly handled, being drawn through the streets of Rome bare-legged. To make mocking of them, a Ger- man, clothing himself like a cardinal, went riding about Rome in his " pontificalibus," and a bottle of wine on the pommel of his saddle, and then a Spaniard in the same manner, with a courtezan behind him. The Germans led a bishop of their own nation (who stood upon election to have been a cardinal) to the market-place to be sold, with a bough in his forehead, as they do when they sell beasts. 'It is said that the sack of Rome amounted unto, by ransoms and compositions, above 15 millions of ducats. Churches were turned into stables. The Church of St. Peter, both on the one side and the other, was all full of horses! Soldiers carried along the streets nuns from monasteries and virgins from their fathers' houses, and from the time that the Emperor's army entered Rome till the time that I departed — the 12th June — there was not a mass said in Rome, nor all that time heard we a bell ring nor a clock. Not a priest or friar dared walk in the streets except in garments of a soldier, else the Germans would cry out, "A pope ! a pope ! kill ! kill!' " i6o The Protestant Revolution. pt. hi. This was what had come to the Pope from the con- spiracy of his predecessor with the Emperor at Worms, — an imperial edict at the Diet of Spires, in 1526, leaving the states of Germany virtually free to adhere to or sever themselves from the ecclesiastical empire of Rome as they severally pleased ; — Rome sacked by a German army in the Emperor's name, and more pitilessly pillaged than it had been 1000 years before by the Vandals ; — the Pope a prisoner of the Emperor in the castle of St. Angelo, and henceforth destined to act as the tool of his imperial master, and to yield an enforced submission to the supremacy of Spain ! , , We may take this result as marking an Result of the -^ , , . ^ Papal policy, epoch. Rome had for ever ceased to be the capital of Christendom. The old Roman form of civilization radiating from Rome had finally given place to a new form of civilization, which would go on its way independently of Rome, and which Rome was no longer able either to inspire or to control. PART III. RESULTS OF THE PROTESTANT REVOLUTION. CHAPTER I. revolts from rome. In Switzerland and Germany. (i^) Me ani7ig of Revolt from Rome. We have now to trace how the Protestant Revolution re- sulted in several national revolts from the ecclesiastical empire of Rome. CH. I. Revolts from Rome. i6i 1 62 Results of the Protestant Revolution. PT. iii. But first, wliat did a national revoU from Rome mean ? It was the claiming by the civil power in each nation of those rights which the Pope had hitherto Meaning of re- , . , . . , , r i i volt from Claimed within it as head oi the great eccle- siastical empire. The clergy and monks had hitherto been regarded more or less as foreigners — /. e. as subjects of the Pope's ecclesiastical empire. Where there was revolt from Rome the allegiance of these per- sons to the Pope was annulled, and the civil power claimed as full a sovereignty over them as it had over its lay subjects. Matters relating to marriages and wills still for the most part remained under ecclesiastical jurisdic- tion as before, but then, as the ecclesiastical courts them- selves became national courts and ceased to be Roman or Papal, all these matters came under the control of the civil power. Even in matters of religious doctrine and practice and public worship, the civil power often claimed the final authority hitherto exercised by the Pope. Such being the meaning of revolt from Rome, it will be clear at once that it was a. political (\mie as much as ,. . , and sometimes more than a religious matter A political . . "^ . change. — an assertion by the civil power in each nation of that free independent national life which we noticed as characteristic of the new order of things. A study of the map showing ' the extent of the revolt from Rome * will illustrate this by another fact — viz. that r^^ ^ .it was those nations which in the main are of 1 he 1 eutonic . . c • nations revolt- Teutonic or German origin — Germany, Swit- The Romanic zerland, Denmark, Sweden, England, Scot- maine"r^' l^nd, and the Netherlands— which finally under Rome, made good their revolt from Rome. As the Germans under their great leader ' Hermann ' had, 1 500 years before, been the first to make good their indepen- CH. I. Revolts from Rome — Switzci-Jand. 163 dence from the old Roman Empire, so it was in the na- tions which were of Germanic speech and origin that revolt was made from papal Rome. On the other hand those nations — Spain, France, and Italy — which had long formed a part of the old Roman Empire, and were Romanic in their languages and instincts, remained in allegiance to the Pope. There were no doubt many people in Spain, France, and Italy who sympathized with the doctrines of the Reformers, but there was no revolt, because these na- tions, or the civil powers representing them, chose to re- main politically connected with Rome. It is well to observe also how the turn the revolt took in the revolting nations was in a great degree the result of their political condition. Thus in England, Denmark, Sweden, in which the central power was strong enough to act for the nation and to carry the nation with it, there was a . . • 1 1 r ^" some na- decisive national revolt from Rome; whde tions there was in Switzerland and Germany, where practi- voU^""!^ some cally there was no central power capable of divided action / 1^ sr and civu wars. acting for the nation as a whole, there were divisions and civil wars within the nation, some of its petty states at length revolting from Rome, and others remaining nisder the ecclesiastical empire. We will uiiX take the case of these divided nations — Switzerland and Germany, and then pass on to the others. [b) The Revolt in Switzerland. No nation was so absolutely without a central authori- ty as the Swiss. Each canton was as independent of the others for most purposes as the petty rji r /^ 1TT1 -.^r,. Switzerland feudal states of Germany. When Machia- divided into velh complained of the divisions of Italy *^^"'°"^- 1 64 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi. preventing its becoming a nation, he warned the Italians of the danger of a country being ' cantonized' hke Swit- zerland. But there was this difference between a Swiss canton and a petty feudal state. In the Swiss canton there was no feudal lord ; the people governed them- selves. It was not a feudal lordship, but a little republic of communes or villages of the primitive Teutonic type, in which the civil power was vested in the community. If therefore in a Swiss canton the civil power took to itself the ecclesiastical power hitherto held Civil power , , t-. t t i • vested in the by the Pope, that power became vested m peope. the people, not, as in other countries, in the ■prince or king. Bearing this in mind, the history of the revolt from Rome in Switzerland will be easily comprehended. ,„ . , ^ . The Swiss reformer, Ulrich Zwinsrle, was Ulnch Zwin- . r i i • / gie, the Swiss born m 1484, and was the son of the chief reormer. man of his village. Well educated at Basle CH. I. Revolts from Rome — Switzerland. 165 and Berne, and after having taken this degree at the university at Vienna, he became a curate in Canton Glarus. The new learning had spread into Switzerland, and Zwingle was one of its disciples. He studied Plato and the new Testament in Greek, like Colet and Eras- mus. Being sent into Italy twice as army preacher, he saw the Swiss troops conquered at Marignano, and re- turned home full of patriotic hatred of the system of hiring out troops to fight other nations' battles. Then he settled in Zurich and became a reformer ; settles at Zu- preaching against indulgences, celibacy in "<^^'- the clergy, and whatever else he thought could not be justified by the New Testament. His own canton, Zurich, under his influ- Zurich as- ence, threw off the episcopal yoke of the ecdesiastical Bishop of Constance and assumed the eccle- pow'^"- siastical authority to itself. The Zurich government au- thorized the use of their mother tongue instead of Latin in public worship, burned the relics from the shrines and altered the mode of admistering the sa- „ „ . , , , ^ _, Berne did the craments. So Zurich revolted from Rome same soon in 1524. Berne followed soon after; while the Forest Cantons — Lucerne, Zug, Schwitz, Uri, and Un- terwalden — followed by Fribourg and the Valais, which was not yet a Swiss canton, held to the old order of things. Some cantons going one way and some another, the result was division and civil war, the Catholic cantons calling in the aid of their old feudal enemies, ^. ., Civil war. the House of Hapsburg. The civil war las.ted, off and on, for two or three years till, in 1531, after Zwingle himself had fallen in battle, it was ended by the peace of Cappel, at which it was p . decided that each canton should do as it Cappel, 1531. i66 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. iii. liked, while in the districts which were dependent on the Swiss Confederation, and not to any particular canton, the majority in each congregation should manage its own ecclesiastical affairs. The map will show which cantons revolted from Rome, and how the districts were divided in their action. Zwingle was a true patriot. He wished to see the Swiss a united nation ; and with that object he proposed Character of political as wcU as religious reforms which Zwingle. ^j-g j^Q^ being carried out. He was rather a disciple of Erasmus than of Luther. He did not adopt the strong Augustinian views of Luther, He also took freer views respecting the sacraments. Luther, a slave in this respect to the mere letter of Scripture, held by the words 'This is my body' so strongly as to Luther quar- , , , , i • r , i i . reis with uphold the doctrme of the real presence ^'"^^' almost as fully as the Catholic party. Zwingle took wider views, treating the sacrament as a symbol The violent dogmatic intolerant spirit of Luther was never more painfully shown than in the dis- pute with Zwingle on this subject. The bitter hatred he showed to Zwingle and Erasmus was all of a piece with hib violent feelings against the poor peasants of Germany. Whilst doing justice to the noble and heroic character of the great German reformer, these things re- mind us that there lingered in his mind much of the dogmatism and intolerance of the scholastic theologian. (r) The Re7iolt in Germmiy (i 526-1 555). We have seen how the German people suffered at the commencement of the era because they had not yet be- come a united nation ; and also how deep and widely spread were their yearnings after national life and unity —peasants crying out to the higher powers for protec* CH. I. Revolt from Rome — Germany. 167 tion from feudal oppression — Luther and Hutten ap- pealing to them to free the German nation from the tyranny of the great ecclesiastical empire of Rome. Had Charles V. cared more for Germany than his own selfish ambitions, and put himself at the head of the strong national feeling, as Frederick of Saxony wanted him to do at Worms, there was at least a good chance of uniting Germany into a powerful and prosperous nation. But he threw away the chance. We have seen how the course taken by Charles V. and the higher powers in the Diet of Worms produced a revolution which cost a hundred thousand lives. We have now to „.^ ^ , 1 he freedom see how it divided Germany into two hostile oftheGer- camps, hurried her into the horrors of the [^y pTOt^^^" Thirty Years' War, postponed for eight or P°^e4[i'ons''" ten generations the freedom of her peasan- ^, ^. ..... The Diet of try, and left to our own times the realization Spires, 1526, of the yearnings of the German people after state^to take national unity. "'^ °^'^ , , .' course about The decision of the Diet of Spires in 1 526 Luther. had already settled that each state of the Empire should do as it thought best in the matter of the edict against Luther. As might be expected, those princes who sided with Luther, and followed the lead of Saxony, at once took reform into their own hands. Monasteries ^^ Hence arose were reform.ed or suppressed, and their rev- Protestant enues turned to good account, either for nationaT' educational purposes, for supporting the from Rome ^^ preachine of the eospel, or for the poor, while others •^ ° or' r remained Monks and nuns were allowed to marry, Catholic. Luther himself setting the example of mar- rying a nun. Divine service was in part carried on in German, though Latin was not entirely excluded. The 1 68 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. in. youth were taught to read in common schools and in the language of the Fatherland. Luther's German Bible and German hymns came into popular use. In a word, in what were called the ' Evangelical States ' a sever- ance was made from the Church of Rome ; and national churches sprang up, resting on the civil power of each state for their authority and adopting Lutheran doctrines. This was the result of the decree of the first Diet of Spires and the Emperor's quarrel with the Pope. Meanwhile the Emperor, having settled his quarrel with the Pope, returned to his loyalty to The second ^ , , . , ^ , . , Diet of Rome, and, takmg advantage of this, the re^v'ersed^tfc CathoHc party succeeded, in the second decision not- £)jgj. ^f Spircs, in I '^20, in passing a decree withstanding r ' -' 7' r o the protest of rc-enacting the Edict of Worms, and for- \\\ ^"^ Luther had hatched it. Eras- mus, in his turn, blamed Luther's violent conduct and language. Luther again denounced Miinzer and the wild prophets of revolution, as well as the poor deluded pea- sants. If this was natural, so was the reaction in the mind of Sir Thomas More. We need not, however, re- gret it any the less on that account. (<-/) Reasons for Hen7'y VIIl.'s change of Policy. Having thus seen that Henry VIII. from policy, and More from conviction, were at this time strongly in fa- vour of the Pope and his divine authority, the next thing is to mark how long Henry VIII. continued of this mind. The answer is, just so long as his alliance with Spain contiiuicd. During the wars of the Emperor, the Pope, and Henry VIII. with France, Wolsey (now cardinal and legate, and Archbishop of York, and soon after lord chancellor also) was the war minister. It was he who Wolsey the great war kncw all the mind of Henry VIII. and car- Henry^vni. ried on his secret negotiations with Charles V. and the Pope. It was he who managed the treachery with Francis I., and made what prepara- tion was needful for royal meetings, embassies, and wars. It was Wolsey, too, who had to manage parlia- ments, and urge them to grant subsidies to pay for the CH. II. Revolt of Englafid from Rome. 179 wars, and when he could get no more money from ParUament it was Wolsey who managed to get it by le- gal means, such as forced contributions from private persons called ' benevolences.' More was a novice on the privy council, ,, '. ' _ _ More opposed and holding Utopian views, often in a mi- to the wars .--,,, r\ \^ with France. nority agamst Wolsey s measures. Once he was alone in disapproval of the great minister's plans. Wolsey hinted that he must be a fool. ' God be thanked,* replied More, ' that the king has but one fool in his council ! ' It mattered little to the king or Wolsey what he thought, but More took care to let the king know that England's joining in the wars with France was against his judgment. Wolsey's and Henry's confidence in Charles V. was shattered by degrees. First came the treachery of Charles V. in not helping to secure the elec- ^, , ,, , ' Charles V. s tion of Wolsey as Pope on the death of treachery, Leo X. and afterwards of Adrian VI. Then came the continuance of the war against France, under the Duke of Bourbon, who flattered Henry with hopes of regaining in case of victory the lost English provinces in France. Next came Pope Clement VII. 's fast and loose game with the allied sove- Pope's.^ reigns; and lastly, the battle of Pavia. Of these events we have spoken in a previous chapter. On hearing the news of the capture of Francis I. at the battle of Pavia, Henry VIII. proposed that he himself should be king of France and Charles V. marry the Princess Mary, so that in her right Charles V. might some day become lord of all Christendom. Up to this moment he had clearly not changed his mind. He still wished to continue the Spanish alliance, and was true to iSo Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi, Catherine and the Princess Mary. But just as his hopes were at their highest point they vanished for ever. Charles V. let Francis I. resume his throne on conditions which the Pope declared to be null and void. Charles v., instead of marrying the Princess Mary, married the Infanta of Portugal, and Henry found him- VIII. 's self betrayed. Charles V. and the Pope, on poHcy"a!l at whose alliance so much depended, had now sea again. \,o'Ca escaped from his control. When, by the conquest of Rome, the Pope himself soon after be- came Charles V.'s prisoner and tool, Henry VIII. 's for- eign politics were indeed all at sea. (^) The Crisis — Henry VIII. determines upon the Divorce from Catherine of Arragoti. Now look at Henry VIII.'s position. Mary was still his only child. There had never yet been a queen on the throne of England. He could no longer Results of breach with rely on Charles V. and the Pope. They at ^^'"' any time, and for political purposes, and in spite of Henry, could dispute the legitimacy of his only daughter. Once more the succession to the throne was uncertain, and in its nature the uncertainty could not be cured. What was he to do ? He resolved to take the bull by the horns, to divorce himself from Catherine of Arragon, to disinherit Mary, to Political rea- marry a young maid of honour, named vorce from ' Anne Bolcyn, and to hope for other heirs to Catherine. j-j^g crown. It was a bold policy, for mar- riage was a matter which belonged to the ecclesiastical empire, and so the divorce required the Pope's consent. Wolsey set his wits to work to secure the Pope's sanc- tion to the divorce. He got his own ecclesiastical power as legate increased by the Pope, and Cardinal Campeg- CH. II. Revolt of England from Rome. iSi gio over from Rome to join him in deciding on the vahdity of the marriage. He tried every means to se- cure the divorce required by Henry. He ,„ , '■ ■' _ VVolsey tries had no notion of destroying in Henry's to get the Pope 11 1 1 • 1-1 1 i to grant a di- mmd the papal authority which as legate vorce, but he wielded in part, and as pope still hoped '^^''^• some day to wield entirely. Had he succeeded in obtain- ing the papal sanction, there would have been no breach with Rome. But he failed. The Pope, at the bidding of his Spanish conqueror, made endless de- Henry viii. 1 ^ r^ • ^ J -..i. i 1. takes the mat- lays ; and Campeggio returned without hav- ^^^ -^^^^ j^j^ ing settled anything. At last, in spite of all °*" h^"'^^- that Wolsey could do, Henry VIII. determined to mar- ry Anne Boleyn, and took the matter into his own hands. This involved a deliberate breach with Rome and the fall of Wolsey. Henry VIII. made up his mind to face both. (/) Fall of Wolsey [1S29-IS30). Cardinal Wolsey had been the very type of an over- grown ecclesiastical potentate. Second to none but the king, he had assumed to himself a viceregal „„ .„^ , °' , ° Fall of Wolsey. magnificence and state! And now that ec- clesiastical grievances had come to the top, and, above all, the king himself was quarelling with the Pope, Wol- sey became a sort of scapegoat for both ecclesiastical and papal sins. He was condemned formally for having used his legatine and ecclesiastical authority contrary to the royal prerogative. But the king had so far connived at and sanctioned the very things for which he was now- condemned, and used them for his own purposes, that he could hardly deal very harshly with his old minister. He left him his archbishopric of York, to which he re- turned in 1 530. There he resumed some of his old state, but by his intrigues to obtain popularity amongst the 1 82 Results of the Protestant Revolution. pt. in. Northern nobles again excited the fears of the court. Messengers were sent down to arrest him of high treason, and he was on his journey to London to answer the charge, when, seized by a fever, he died at Leicester Abbey, having given utterance to the famous words, 'Had I served my God as I have served my king, he would not have given me over in my gray hairs ! ' Henry VIII. was not conspicuous for gratitude to his ministers. [g) The Parlia7nent of 1 529-1 536. Revolt of England from Rome. Wolsey was dismissed in 1529. Hitherto the chief ministers and lord chancellors of kings of England had ^. ^^ been ecclesiastics. This rule was now hir 1 nomas More lord broken through. The Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk were made chief ministers and Sir Thomas More lord chancellor. Lastly, a parUament was called. A crisis had come in English history. The parliament of 1529 was to England what the Diet of Worms might have been to Germany. The English Com- Parliament c i ■ t t_ of 152C1. A mons made use of this parhament, as the ITgfish his- Germans did of the Diet of Worms, to make DiJt of*^ "^^ complaints against the clergy and the eccle- Worms in siastical courts. For a long time the people history. of England, like the Germans, had resisted the power of the ecclesiastical empire. The freedom of the clergy from the jurisdiction of the secular courts on the one hand, the jurisdiction of the ecclesi- Complaints ,111 1 against the astical courts on the other hand over laymen ecdtl^^^fcal in such matters as marriages, probates of abuses. wills, and the distribution of property amongst the next of kin on the death of the owner, were real and long-standing grievances. The clergy, by their CH. II. Revolt of England from Rome. 1S3 ecclesiastical courts, harassed and taxed the people be- yond endurance. The character of the clergy and monks was also grievously complained of. Wolsey had sought, as Cardinal Morton had done attempts at before him, to reform these abuses. Him- reformun'der self a cardinal and legate, he had sought p^^P;'' *"'^°- powers from the Pope to repress the evils ; to visit and even suppress some of the worst and pariia- , . . , , , ment now of the monasteries and correct the clergy ; take up the and his scheme, partly carried out, was to '"^"'=''- found colleges at the universities out of the proceeds. This was all very well as far as it went, but it never went far enough to be of much use, and now the time of re- formation under papal authority was passed. Both king and parliament were in a mind to undertake themselves the needed ecclesiastical reforms. A petition, describing at length the ecclesiastical grievances, was laid by the Commons before the king. The king submitted it to the bishops, at the „ . . . . . ^ , , Petition of same tmie requirmg henceforth that no new the Com- law should be passed by the clergy in con- ^^c^estS-'"^ vocation, any more than in parliament, "caignev- ' ■' r' ' ances. without his royal consent. The bishops tried to explain away the complaints, but before parliament was prorogued acts were passed fixing at reasonable sums the amounts to be demanded for probate of wills and funeral fees, prohibiting the clergy from engaging in secular business, or holding too many benefices, and obliging them to reside in their parishes. These were matters of practical reform, such as Colet had urged in his sermon to convocation in 1511. He had urged that the clergy in convocation ^ . , 7^ Practical should take up these reforms, and reform reforms. themselves. They had let eighteen years slip by without 184 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. in. doing it, and now the bolder power of Parliament was over-ruling their feeble opposition. Meanwhile the divorce question went into another phase. Cranmer now came on to the scene. He was The divorce soon to be the chief ecclesiastical adviser of beforeThi''''^ Henry VIII. He consulted the chief univer- Universitics sities of Europe on the power of Pope Julius by Cranmer. .,,,.., , to dispense with the divine law, and so upon the validity of the marriage with Catherine. The Uni- versities gave their opinions very much according to the influence brought upon them. The English and French were most in favour of Henry VIII.'s views. The opinions were laid before parliament in 1531, but nothing further was done that year. In its next two sessions this celebrated parliament proceeded step by step with ecclesiastical reforms. reforms. The greatest of all legislative scandals, benefit of clergy, was curtailed. Payment of ^, , annates to Rome was forbidden. Appeals The king , . , , • declared to Romc Were abolished. Heretics were still heacToFthe to be bumed, but speaking against the Pope En-Hnd"'^ was declared no longer to be heresy. The instead of kinsf's asscnt was made necessary to eccle- the Pope. ^ ... siastical ordinances. The Pope's jurisdiction in England was abolished and transferred to the king. Lastly he assumed the title of supreme head of the Church of England, which was finally confirmed by Parliament in 1534. The king meanwhile determined to deal The king •■,■>■ -, ^ r r i marries Anne With his own marriage. In dehance 01 the revoh"of ^ Pope, he married Anne Boleyn in January England 1 532-3. The marriage with Catherine was is now com- declared null and void by Cranmer, now Archbishop of Canterbury, and by act of CH. II. Revolt of England froffi Rome. 185 parliament. Thus the breach with Rome was complete. England had, in fact, revolted from the ecclesiastical em- pire, by the joint action of king and parliament, and with the assent, however reluctant, even of the clergy. [h) Heresy still pimishcd in England. Now it will be observed that all this came to pass without any change of religious creed, without England becoming Lutheran or Protestant. All the while heresy was a crime against which king and parliament and clergy were equally severe. The breach with -j-j^^^.^ -^^^ Rome made no difference on this point, ex- been no change of cept that speaking against the Pope was no religious longer heresy. There was as stern a deter- , ». iU \ c Heretics still mmation as ever to prevent the spread 01 persecuted, heresy in England. Wolsey's dying advice th^rn^/>w,i/ to Henry VIII. in November i ^xo was not to 'he transia- let the new pernicious sect 01 the Lutherans New Testa- spread in England. Tindal, the noble single- '"'^" ' minded Englishman to whom we owe the first translation of the New Testament into English, was all this while watched and tracked and persecuted from place to placf^ as a dangerous foe. Fired with zeal by reading the New Testament of Erasmus, to give the English people access to its truths in the "vulgar tongue," he pursued his ob- ject with a heroism and patriotism which should make his name dear to Englishmen. Strange was it that one of his persecutors was Sir Thomas More, who, in his "Utopia," had expressed views in favour of religious toleration. It was just after the sack of Rome that More pub- lished his opinion that heresy, being dangerous to the state, ought to be punished in England, lest Sir Thomas it should lead to similar results to those it had aga^nsl ^^^ led to on the Continent. It was only a few heresy. 1 86 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. iii. mom/is after, that when, on the fall of Wolsey in 1529, he was made lord chancellor, he had to swear by his oath of office, amongst other things, to can/ out the laws against hercs/. He became now, by virtue of his office, the public prosecutor of heretics. The bishops were his most active police, and ever and anon poor men were handed over to him for examination and legal punishment. The times were barbarous. Torture was used in the examina- tion of criminals and of heretics also, and, it can hardly be doubted, even in the presence of Sir Thomas More. Yet, in a certain way, More's gentleness showed itself even in persecution. By the law of the land, heretics must abjure or be burned. More tried hard to save both their bodies and souls. He used every means in his power to induce them to abjure. During the first two years of his chancellorship he staved off the evil day. Every single heretic abjured ; no single fire had yet been lit in Smithfield during his rule ; but, in the last six months of it, three abjured heretics relapsing into heresy were burned under his authority, the dying martyrs' prayers rising from the stake, " May the Lord forgive Sir Thomas More 1" " May the Lord open the eyes of Sir Thomas More !" Strange was it that during these sad months, while More was persecuting others for conscience' sake, he himself had to choose between his own conscience and death. (/) Execution of Sir Thomas More (1535). We have seen that he had come to the conviction that the Pope was head of the Church by divine authority. -, ,. ,r He had held his post of Lord Chancellor so ftlore himself r- has to suffer _ long as the action of Parliament involved for conscience' , , , ■, ■, c r i • sake. only the much needed reform 01 ecclesias- tical abuses — till 1532. But so soon as, in CH. II. Rezwlt of England from Rome. 1S7 1532, he saw the breach with Rome was inevitable, and that Henry VIII. would delay no longer, he resigned the seals and retired into the bosom of his home at Chelsea • — that home which Erasmus had made known all over Europe as a pattern in respect of domestic virtue, cul- ture, and happiness. More had firmly told the king that he disapproved of the divorce, both before and after he was lord chancel- lor. He declined to be present at Anne Boleyn's coro- nation ; and when warned and threatened by order of the king, his brave reply was that threats were argu- ments for children, not for him. When the oath ac- knowledging Anne Boleyn as the lawful wife of Henry VIII. was administered to him, he refused to take it. Bishop Fisher alone among the whole bench ,, '^ ° More and of bishops did the same. More and Fisher Fisher sent were therefore sent to the Tower.' Himself in prison for conscience' sake, More's thoughts turned to the heretics against whom, he had been so zea- lous ; and he left a paper for his friends warning them if ever, by reason of their office, they had to punish others, not to let their zeal outrun their charity. It was, perhaps, a confession that it had been so with him. He pondered also on the divisions in the Church, and ex- pressed his hopes that after all there might be a recon- ciliation between Catholics and Protestants. His wife visited him in prison, and reminded him of his home and his peril in not taking the oath. ' Good Mistress Alice,' he replied to her, 'tell me one thing: Is not this house as nigh heaven as mine own ?' His beloved daughter Margaret Roper visited him of- ten, and the story of his love for her and her daughterly affection for him, has become a favourite theme of his- torians, painters, and poets. 1 88 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. iii. His trial, like that of the Duke of Buckingham, was a typical Tudor trial. It was not a question of guilt or innocence, but of state necessity. Anne Boleyn's star being in the ascendant, Sir Thomas More and Bishop Fisher must die. This is Mr. Froude's account of More's death : ' The four days which remained to him he spent in ' prayer, and in severe bodily discipline. On the night 'of the 5th of July, although he did not Execution of . Sir Thomas ' know the time which had been fixed for More. , . . ..... nis execution, yet, with an instinctive feel- ing that it was near, he sent his daughter Margaret his hair-shirt and whip, as having no more need of them, with a parting blessing of affection. ' He then lay down and slept quietly. At daybreak he was awoke by the entrance of Sir Thomas Pope, who had come to confirm his anticipations, and to tell him that it was the king's pleasure that he should suffer at 9 o'clock that morning. He received the news with utter composure. " I am much bounden to the king," he said, " for the benefits and honours he has bestowed " upon me ; and, so help me God, most of all am I " bounden to him that it pleaseth his Majesty to rid me " shortly out of the miseries of this present world." ' Pope told him the king desired he would not use many words on the scaffold. " Mr. Pope," he answered, " you do well to give me warning ; for, otherwise, I had " purposed somewhat to have spoken, but no matter " therewith his grace should have cause to be offended. " Howbeit, whatever I intended, I shall obey his High- " ness' command." ' He afterwards discussed the arrangements for his funeral, at which he begged that his family might be present; and when all was settled, Pope rose to leave CH. II. Revolt of England from Rome. 189 'him. He was an old friend. He took More's hand ' and wrung it, and, quite overcome, burst into tears. ' " Quiet yourself, Mr. Pope," More said, " and be not •" discomfited, for I trust we shall once see each other • " full merrily, when we shall live and love together in '" eternal bliss." ' So about 9 of the clock he was brought by the lieu- tenant out of the Tower, his beard being long, which fashion he had never before used — his face pale and lean, carrying in his hands a red cross, casting his eyes often toward heaven. He had been unpopular as a judge, and one or two persons in the crowd were inso- lent to him ; but the distance was short, and soon over, as all else was nearly over now. ' The scaffold had been awkwardly erected, and shook as he placed his foot upon the ladder, " See me safe " up," he said to Kingston; "for my coming down I " can shift for myself." He began to speak to the peo- ple, but the sheriff begged him not to proceed ; and he contented himself with asking for their prayers, and desiring them to bear witness for him that he died in the faith of the holy Catholic Church, and a faithful servant of God and the king. He then repeated the Miserere Psalm on his knees ; and when he had ended and had arisen, the executioner, with an emotion which promised ill for the manner in which his part would be accomplished, begged his forgiveness. More kissed him. " Thou art to do me the greatest benefit that I " can receive," he said ; " pluck up thy spirit, man, and " be not afraid to do thine office. My neck is very " short ; take heed, therefore, that thou strike not awry " for saving of thine honesty." The executioner offered to tie his eyes. " I will cover them myself," he said ; and, binding them in a cloth which he had brought 190 Results of the Protesta7it Revolution, pt. iii ' with him, he knelt and laid his head upon the block. ' The fatal stroke was about to fall, when he signed for a 'moment's delay, while he moved aside his beard. ' " Pity that should be cut," he murmured, " that has ' " not committed treason." With which strange words — ' the strangest, perhaps, ever uttered at such a time — the ' lips famous through Europe for eloquence and wisdom ' closed for ever.* {k) Death of Erasmus. (1536). The news of the Death of Sir Thomas More in 1535 reached Erasmus in old age and suffering from illness, ^ but labouring still with his pen to the last. Erasmus ' dies soon He was Writing a book on the ' Purity of the Church,' and in the preface he described his friend as ' a soul purer than snow.' He lived only a few months longer, died in 1536, and was buried in the cathedral at Basle with every token of respect. Not forty years had passed since Erasmus had first met Colet at Oxford, and since the three Oxford students ^, , ^ whom for the sake of distinction we have The work of the Oxford Called the Oxford Reformers, joined heart had pro- and soul in that fellow-work which had 'esulte^'^^^' caught its inspiration from Florence. How much had come out of their fellow work ! Colet, the one who brought the inspiration from Flo- rence, had died in 15 19, before the crisis came. But even then the work of the Oxford Reformers was already in one sense done. They had sown their seed. The New Testament of Erasmus was already given to the world, and nothing had so paved the way for the Protes- tant Reformation as that great work had done. Since Colet's death, Erasmus and More had never met. Each had taken his own line. More was driven far further CH. II. Revolt of England from Rome. 191 into reaction than Erasmus. After the Peasants' War and the sack of Rome, Erasmus still preached tolerance on the one hand, and satirized the monks and school- men on the other hand. And his satire was just as bitter in these later writings as it had been in the 'Praise of Folly.' But he too, like More, held on to their old hatred of schism, preached concord in the Church, and longed for a reconciliation between the contending parties. (/) Dissolution of the Monasteries, and Reform of the Universities 1536. The bitter satire of Erasmus upon the monks bore fruit sooner than he himself expected, and especially in England. The necessity of a thorough re- ^„ ° ^ 1 he work set form in the monasteries was now every, a going by where acknowledged, and there was no Reformers longer any reason to wait for bulls from ^°*^^ ""• Rome before beginning the work. The king was in a mood to humble the monks. The bishops and secular clergy had bowed their heads to the royal supremacy. The time now for the monks and abbots had come. Within a few months of More's death, a commission was issued by Thomas Crotnwell (the minis- Cromwell, ter who was now vicegerent of the new now ecciesi- royal ecclesiastical authority), for a general feVofHenr>^ visitation of the monasteries. viii., in- quires into The popular complaints against them were the state ot not found to be baseless. Scandal had long teries. been busy about the morals of the monks. The commissioners found them on incjuiry worse even than scandal had whispered, and reported to Parliament that two-thirds of the monks were leading vicious lives under cover of their cowls and hoods. 192 Results of the Protestant Rezwlution. pt. iii. Erasmus, in his ' Colloquies,' had spread all over Europe his suspicions that the relics by which the monks attracted so many pilgrims, and so much wealth in offer- ings to their shrines, were false and their miracles pre- tended. He had visited and described both shrines and the two great English shrines of 'St. '^^"^^' Thomas k Becket ' and 'Our Lady of Walsingham,' and had dared to hint that the congealed milk of the Virgin exhibited at the one was a mixture of chalk and white of ^^ J >^ Both Denmark wretched tyrant — Christian II., who legally and Sweden had little power, but following the royal yoke of Chris- fashion of the day, tried to make himself an !!f" ^' ^"'^^ J ' then separate. absolute monarch. Denmark and Sweden both rebelled, dethroned Christian 11., and then went their several ways. In Sweden the people, /. r. the citizens and then the peasantry, were sick of the tyranny of their nobles and clergy, as well as their king, and sighed for The Swedes a good king strong enough to curb them. Vasa ihelr'^^^ It was the old story, what the citizens and ^'"s- peasantry of Germany had long sighed for in vain. But in Sweden they got what they wanted. They elected as king Gustavus Vasa, a noble who had taken the popular side against their former tyrant ; and having elected him, they backed him in carrying out in Sweden very much the same sort of reforms as Henry VIII. had Sweden, under carried out in England. The clergy were a'prot'^tanr humbled, their property seized by the crown, nation. and Sweden, roused to a sense of national life under Gustavus Vasa, took its place among modern nations. It was soon to play a prominent part in the great struggle between Catholic and Protestant powers. The Swedish king, Gustavus Adolphus, was the greatest of the Pro- testant leaders in the Thirty Years' War. zoo Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi. In Denmark also (and Norway was under the same crown) a new monarchy succeeded to that of the ex- Denmark also, pelled tyrant. The nobles joined the crown k"ifg'becomer i" Crushing the power of the clergy. The Protestant. Danish monarchy became established on the ruins of the Church. Lutheranism was encouraged. Denmark became a Protestant state, and took part, like Sweden, on the Protestant side in the Thirty Years' War. (b) The Revolt of the Netherlands [i_§8i). The last of the revolts from Rome was that of the Netherlands. It was a revolt not only from Rome but also from Spain. It does not fall altogether within the hmits of the era, and so requires only brief notice here. Philip II., king of Spain and husband of the English queen Mary, tried to enforce the double yoke of Spain and Rome upon the Netherlanders. The Netherlands, it will be remembered, belonged to the Burgundian pro- „ ,. ^ vinces which came to the Spanish crown by Policy of * -^ Philip II to the marriage alliance of the mother of Nether- Charles V. He was a Netherlander, and as Spalnlndto ^uch popular ; but his son, Philip II., was a Rome. Spaniard, and felt to be a foreign tyrant. He had entered into close alliance with Rome. If he could, he would have conquered all countries which had revolted from Rome ; and in restoring them to Rome, he would have liked to have made them into Spanish provinces. It was in pursuance of these ideas that he encouraged Queen Mary's restoration of the Catholic faith in England, and sent his 'Spanish Armada' to conquer the Protestant Queen Elizabeth. In the same spirit he sent his cruel minister, the Duke of Alva, to force into submission his rebellious subjects in the Netherlands, and to fasten on their necks the double CH. IV. The Genevan Re/onners. 201 yoke of Spain and Rome. The result was ^^^ ^^^^^^ the revolt of the Netherlands under the and the , „ A /- -11 ' United Prince of Orange. After a terrible strug- provinces' gle, it was at last successful, and ended in Pro°SLnt the complete escape of the northern pro- nation. vinces from both the Spanish and Papal yoke. This was in 1581. From that date the 'United Provinces' took their place, like Sweden and Denmark, among the Protestant nations of Europe. CHAPTER IV. THE GENEVAN REFORMERS. (a) Rise of a new School of Reform. The force of the Protestant Revolution was not wholly spent in these national revolts from Rome. Although apart from them there was a Protestant movement going on in the minds of the peo- ^ Protestant pie, both in those nations which revolted moyement ^ which was from Rome and in those which did not. not national. We must now turn our attention to the rise of a new school of reform, which led to remarkable results. Luther was too national — too German — a reformer, to admit of his becoming the universal prophet ■ ,1 11 but which of Protestantism all over the world. Den- influenced mark, Sweden, and Norway, coming under testanw of German influence, did indeed become E"'}"'. ' i-ngland, Lutheran ; but the Protestants of France, Scotland, J . and America r-nglana, bcotland, and America are not more than and never have been Lutherans. They "' ^"^ ' ' came more under the influence of the Genevan re* formers, of whom we must now speak. 202 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. in, {b) yohn Calvin. The chief of these was yolin Calvin. He was a Frenchman, born in 1 509, and so was twenty-five years John Calvin younger than Luther. He was educated at born 1509. j^j^g universities of Paris and Orleans, adopted the Augustinian theology, as Wiclif, Huss, and Luther had done before him, and became a Protestant. In France heretics were burned, so he left his home to travel in Italy and Germany. In 1536, just as Erasmus was passing to his rest, he came to Basle, and began his ^ public work as a Protestant reformer by stitutes,' publishing his ' Institutes of the Christian logical^form Religion.' It was these 'Institutes' of Cal- ^°n\'^- ■ • > vin which gave rigid logical scholastic form doc-Lrines. to thosc Augustinian doctrines which, as we have said, were held in common by most Protestant reformers from Wiclif to Luther, but which have been since called ' Calvinistic' He differed from Luther both in theory and practice, on those points about which Zwingle and Luther had quarrelled. He rejected tran- substantiation, which Luther did not altogether ; and he founded his Church, like Zwingle, on the republican basis of the congregation rather than, as Luther did, on the civil power of the prince. He thus was in a sense more Protestant than Luther, though at that time only the Lutherans were called Protestants. Geneva soon became the sphere of his actions. It was in a state of anarchy, having rebelled from its bishop, who had been practicallv both ecclesiastical Calvin settles ,••,,• ' r^^u -r- u at Geneva. and civu ruler m one. Other rrench re- formers had settled at Geneva before Calvin, and these shared his stern Protestant doctrines. But Calvin soon proved the most powerful preacher. Like CH. IV. The Genevan Reformers. 203 Savonarola, he rebuked the vices of the people from the pulpit. At first this made him unpopular, ^ * ' . _ ^ * Becomes a and he was driven away; but in 1541 he was kind of dictatoi 1, J , ^, , J J ^. of the Genevan recalled by the people, and made practi- state, cally both civil and religious dictator of the little state. He was in a sense Protestant Pope of Geneva, but de» riving his power from the congregation. He and his consistory held it their duty to force men to lead moral lives, go to church, give up dice, dancing, „ '° . . ^ *' His severedis- sweanng, and so forth; and the council of cipline and in- ,. -. _.. J ^1. • ■ c tolerance. the City supported this severe exercise of ec- clesiastical power by their civil authority. Thus for twenty years Geneva was under the rule of Calvin and his fellow ' saints ;' and an intolerant despotic rule it was. Men were excommunicated for insulting Calvin, and sent to prison for mocking at his sermons. To impugn his doctrine was death or banishment. Hired spies watched people's conduct, and every unseemly word dropped in the street came to the ear of the elders. Children were liable to public punishment for insulting their parents, and men and women were drowned in the Rhone for sensual sins. Witchcraft and heresy were capital crimes; and one heretic, Servetus, was burned, with his books hung to his girdle, for honest difference of opinion from Calvin on an abstruse point of divinity. The same view of the functions of the Church which led him to exercise this severe discipline, led him also to control education. He founded academies He founds and schools ; and when his system was ap- schools. plied to Scotland, as it afterwards was under John Knox, a school as well as a church was planted in every parish. 204 Results of the Protestant Rczwtution. pt. iii. (t") Influence of the Gc7ievan School on Western Protestantism. Whatever Calvin did at Geneva would have mattered little to the world if it had stopped there; but it did ... . „ not. The historical importance of Calvin Kis influence ' on Western lies in the fact that he impressed upon West- Protestantism. ,...,,. ern Protestantism his rigid scholastic creed and his views of ecclesiastical discipline. The Protestants of France, called Huguenots, were and are mainly the offspring of Calvinism. Jtjenou, Johi^ Knox, the reformer of Scotland, and the Scotch jj^g Scotch Covenantcrs, were also disciples Covenanters, '- the English of Calvin ; and so Scotch Protestantism re- the 'Pilgrim ccived its imprcss from Geneva. The Puri- of^Nev^Eng- ^ans of England were also Calvinists. Crom- land, all of the ^yell was a Calvinist, and the rule of his (jenevan school. 'saints' was on the Genevan model. The Pilgrim Fathers took with them from Eng- land to the New England across the Atlantic the Calvin- istic creed, and, alas! its intolerance too. So engrained was it in their theological mind that, even though them- selves fleeing from persecution, they themselves perse- cuted in the land of their refuge. Under the rule of the Boston saints there was as little religious liberty as under the rule of Calvin at Geneva. Nevertheless, the offspring of the Genevan school of reform deserve well of history. However narrow and „, . , . hard in their creed and Puritanic in theii Their his- r j r- torical im- manners, they were men oi a sturdy bpartan andtn"' typ^, ready to bear any amount of persecu- natlonir" ^^^^ ^"*^ ^° P"^^ through any difficulties, character. democratic in their spirit and aggressive in their zeal. The banishment of the Huguenots from en. V. Reform within the Catholic Church. 205 France took away the backbone of her religious hfe. Scotland would not be what she is but for Knox and his parish schools. England could not afford to lose the Puritan blood which mixes in her veins. New England owes a rich inheritance of stern virtues to her ' Pilgrim Fathers.' CHAPTER V. REFORM WITHIN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [a) The Italian Reformers [to 1541). One of the results of the Protestant revolution was the reform of the Catholic Church itself. We ought never to forget that the Roman Catholic Church of our own times is, in fact, a reformed Church as well as the Protestant Churches. And we must now have patience enough to trace how and by whom its re- form was effected. Good men of all parties had for long seen the neces- sity of a practical reform in the morals of the pope, clergy, and monks. And we have seen that the necessity was recognized in high quarters. Ferdinand and Isabella's great minister, Cardinal Ximenes, and the English min- isters. Cardinal Morton and Cardinal Wol- Efforts at sey — three cardinals all of great power and J^'^j^^ ^"''" undoubted loyalty to Rome — even went so Church. far as to get bulls from the Pope, authorizing them to visit and reform the monasteries. All good men cried out against the crimes of such a pope as Alexander VI. And it is not right to charge the Catholic Church wholesale with these crimes any more than it would be to charge the English nation with the matrimonial sins of Henry VIII. There was so strong a feeling all through the Church 2o6 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi. against these scandals that, after what had happened, Improve- ^^^Y werc Dot Hkely to occur again. The mentinthe popcs who Came after Alexander VI. were character oi ^ ' popes. not angels, but they were outwardly more decent than he, at all events. Julius II., as we have seen, was the fighting pope. The scandal in his case was his lust of war and the extension of the Papal terri- tory. Leo X. cared more for art and literature than for war, but he, too, had his faults, and the scandal in his case was a doubt whether, after all, he really believed in Christianity. Adrian VI. was an earnest and stern mor- al reformer — too stern for the times — and his reign was too short to produce much result. Clement VII. was a better man than many, though of blundering politics, letting down the Papal power, and becoming at last the prisoner and the tool of his Spanish conqueror Charles V. All this while there were men in Italy of earnest Christian feeling who, like the Oxford reformers, were men of the new school on the one hand, and opposed to the semi-pagan skepticism of the mere ' humanists ' of Italy on the other hand. These men longed for reform, not only in morals but also in doctrine. They wanted ^, ,. religion to be made a thing of the heart, that The media- ° . . ting reformers the gross superstition connected with indul- ^ ^' gences and other abuses should be set aside, and some of them held the Augustinian doctrine of jus- tification by faith. This gave them a sort of sympathy even with Luther, and they wanted such a reform of the Church as they hoped would win back the Protes- Vaidez Pole tants into her fold, yuan de Valdez, brother Contarini. of Charlcs V.'s secretary (from whose writings we have more than once quoted), was one of them. Reginald Pole (who opposed Henry VIII. 's CH. V. Reform within tiie Catholic Church. 207 revolt from Rome so strongly) and Caspar Contarini (a Venetian nobleman of the highest character and influ- ence in court circles) were of their number. They had among them eloquent preachers and ladies of rank, for- tune, and beauty. They held together and exerted much influence, and there was a time when they seemed to be not without chance of success as mediators between the extreme Catholic and Protestant parties. Paul III. became pope in 1534, and the hopes of th'i reform party were raised by his making Pole and Con- tarini and some others of their friends cardi- Paul III. nals. These men were on the most friendly ^^theni°'"^ terms with Erasmus, who in his old age was cardinals, urging concord on religious parties and purity on the Church. It was rumoured that Erasmus himself was to be made a cardinal, and it was said that a red hat was on the way to Bishop Fisher when he was executed by Henry VIII. It was some of these and other signs of the times which cheered Sir Thomas More in his prison with the belief that better days were coming, that there was at least some chance of a reconciliation with the Protestants, and a healing of the schism by which the Church was rent. The prospect was for the moment promising. Paul III. wrote to Erasmus, telling him that he intended to call a council (as Erasmus had urged his ^^ ^ ° ^ Chances oi a predecessors to do) and asking for his in- reconciiia- n 111111/- 1 • 1 'ion with nuence and help both before and in the Protestants council. But things moved slowly. Cardinal 'j'j"^^'" P^"! Contarini was more zealous for a council than the Pope, who was only half-inclined to it, fearing lest it might abridge his power. At length in 1 541 — five years after the death of Erasmus — the Pope deputed 2o8 Results of the Protestant Revolution. PT. in. ^ . . Contarini to meet the Protestants at the Diet Contarini and Melanch- of Ratisbon, and to try whether a reconciha- make peace t'ori could be arranged with them. He was of RatSbon "^^'^ ^y ^^ gentle Melanchthon (Luther dis- trusting the whole thing and keeping away), and they agreed upon the doctrine of justification by faith as the basis of reunion. For a moment a peace seemed within reach. But alas ! other motives came in But the Pope o^i the Popc's side. Francis I. urged upon draws back. j^jj^ ^.j^^j. concord and unity in Germany would make the Emperor — their common enemy — dan- gerously strong ; and so Paul III. drew back. On the other side, Luther scented mischief in any And Luther peace with Rome. It was too good to be ^^°" true ; and he even hinted that the devil was somewhere and somehow at work in it. „ ,^. So everything was left over for settlement Everything ' '^ left over till at the council which now at length the Pope the Council , _ ^-, -y ^ ■-r' i of Trent. was to convene — the famous Council oj Irent. But meanwhile another power came upon the stage, which was destined to take the reins out of the hands of the Italian mediating reformers, to close the door for reconciliation forever, and to reform what was left of the Catholic Church on the narrow basis of reaction. [b) The New Order of the Society of Jesus (1540). Ignatius Loyola, a young Spanish knight of noble fa- mily, was born in 1491, and so was eight years younger than Luther. He was a soldier in the army Ignatius Loy- i . , » ola, a Spanish of Spain — that land m which the national "'^ '■ wars against the Moors had kept up chivalry and the spirit of the old crusaders, in which knights still fought for the Cross against the ' Infidel,' and whose citi- CH. V. Reform within the Catholic Church. 209 zens more than any others felt the romance of the con- nexion with the New World. Loyola was thirty years old, fighting in the Spanish army against an insurrection in Navarre, secretly aided by the French, just after the Diet of Worms, ,,. , , He IS wounded when his leg was shattered by a cannon in 1521 ball. The one hope of the young knight was such a recovery as would let him return to his sol- dier's life and pursue his knightly career. He submitted to two cruel operations in this hope, but alas, in vain. After racking torture and fever, which brought him near to the grave, he survived to find his contracted limb still a bar to his hopes. As he lay upon his couch in pain and fever, he changed the scheme of his „ . Resolves to be- life. He resolved to become a soldier — a come a general , . ^, J 1-1 oian array of general — m another army, under a higher saints instead king, fighting for the cross. Legends of the °^ soldiers. saints inspired his imagination with dreams still more romantic than the tales of knight-errantry. In his deli- rium his fevered eye saw visions of the Virgin, and thus he thought he received divine commission to pursue his plan. He would be a true son of the Church, the sworn enemy of her enemies, be they heretics, Jews, or infidels. His creed should be the soldier's creed — obedience to superiors, hard endurance, and dauntless courage. The holy saints of the legends were his patterns. He prepared himself for his work, as they did, by fastings and the se- verest austerities. His food was bread and water and herbs, his girdle sometimes an iron chain, sometimes prickly briars, his work humble austerities, service of the lowest kind, such as dressing the foulest wounds in the hospitals. Then he dwelt for a while in a cavern in solitude, and fasted till he saw vi- sions again, and fancied he had communications with P 2IO Results of the Protestant Revolutio7i. pt. in. heaven. And now he had perfected his plan — a soldier's plan — to found a religious army, perfect in discipline, in every soldier of which should be absolute Resolves to , ^. ^ 11, , , . found the devotion to one end, absolute obedience to Jesus!*^° his superior, with no human tics to hinder and no objects to divert him from the service required. It was in fact to be a new monastic order, and to be called the Society of fesiis. He must first prepare himself for his generalship by „ years of study. He began at a common To prepare 1111 himself studies school, and then went to the University of at the Univer- p sity of Paris. -lariS. The next thing was to get round him a few others like himself, and so to form the nucleus of his army. They must be men of power and metal, and all the better if of noble blood and high position. There was a young Spanish noble at the university of Paris named Francis Xavier. While Loyola At Paris meets . . , ... Francis was studymg at the university he came in ^^'^''- contact with him. He watched him, read his mind and character, and then set himself to work to make his own. Xavier sought fame and applause, and just as he got it, Loyola would come in his way with the solemn question, 'What shall it profit if a man gain the whole world and lose his own soul ?' Loyola would help him to new triumphs, but as often as they came would come to him again from Loyola the solemn question, 'What shall it profit?' At last the proud spirit of the Spanish noble yielded to the spell. Xavier be- came a disciple of Loyola; rivalled him in Xavier be- comes a austerities, and ere long became the mis- "''^'^ '^' sionary of the Society, carrying his cross, his Bible, breviary and wallet to India and the Indian Isles, and even to Japan and China, till at last he laid down CH. V. Reform within tlic Catholic Church. 211 his life after eleven long years of heroic la- ^„j ,he great hour, stretched on the sand of the sea-shore ^^"^^t'^H""' of a lonely island in the Chinese seas, with dies China, . . and Japan. his cross in his hand, tears of holy joy in his eyes, and uttering the words, ' In Thee have I put my trust, let me never be confounded.' Of such stuff were the first Jesuits made — a type of human nature which, rising up as it did just then, was of immense import to the future of the Catholic Church. It was in truth a reaction from the looseness both of morals and creed which had marked the recent condi- tion of the Church. These men were pious, „, . ' Character oi earnest, and devoted to the Church, be- the Jesuits. cause their minds were cast in a mould which allowed them still to believe in her pretensions. They had all the piety, fervour, energy, and boldness of the Protestant Reformers, but their reform took another direction. Instead of going back to St. Augustine as th -ir exponent of the Bible, they took St. Francis and the mediaeval saints as their models, and rested with ab- solute faith on the authority of the mediaeval Church. To reform the Catholic Church to mediseval standards by the formation of a new monastic order, having for its corner-stone the absolute surrender of free inquiry and free thought, and absolute obedience to supreme eccle- siastical authority — this was the project of ^, . ^ ' -^ iheir siic- Loyola. It was not abortive. Before its cess and founder died he had succeeded in founding more than a hundred Jesuit colleges or houses for train- ing Jesuits, and an immense number of educational es- tablishments under their influence. He had many thou- sands of Jesuits in the rank and file of his order. He had divided Europe, India, Africa, and Brazil into twelve Jesuit provinces, in each of which he had his Jesuit offi- «I2 Results of the Protestant Rezwlution. PT. ill. ter, whilst he, their general, residing at Rome, wielded an influence over the world rivaling, if it did not exceed in power, that of popes and kings. Its very success was the cause of its ultimate doom. The nations of Europe, after the experience of some generations, Causes of its . . ^ . , ultimate found it to mterfere with their national free- opu an y. ^j^j^^ ^^ j.|-jgy j^^^^^ done the old ecclesiastical empire of Rome. They ultimately banished the Jesuits because of their power and because their presence and their plots endangered the safety of the state. But as yet the Society of Jesus was young, and had its work before it. The Order received Papal sanction in 1540. [c] The Council of Trent [iS43 — -^JSj)- The Council of Trent was opened in 1545. Cardinal Contarini, who had been the Pope's confidant in matters ., , relating to the Council, died before it assem- Council of Trent meets bled. But Cardinal Pole, Contarini the '" '^''^' younger, and others of the mediating party, were members of the Council. They took the same line as at Ratisbon, and urged the doctrine of justification by faith as common Christian ground. But the Jesuits in „, - . the Council, under the instruction of Loyola, 1 he Jesuits _ ■' prevail over opposcd it with all their might. The dispute ing Refor- was long and hot, and even led to personal '^^'^' violence. One holy Father was so angry that he seized another by the beard. The Jesuits pre- vailed, and carried the decision of the Council their own way. Pole, on the plea of ill health, had left the Council, and the younger Contarini followed his example. It was clear there was to be no reconciliation. The party of reaction had gained the day. No sooner had the party of reaction taken the lead than Cardinal Carafta (afterwards Pope Paul IV). ob- en. V. Reform within the Catholic Church. 213 tained powers to introduce into Rome the , ... ^ Inquisition Inquisition — that terrible tribunal of perse- introduced cution which in Spain had slain and ban- CardinaTca- ished so many Moors, Tews, and heretics ''^^^' ^S'^''" under the sanction of the zeal of Queen Isa- Paul iv. bella. Persecution began, and some of the members ol the mediating party were among its first victims. This was the work of the Council of Trent at its earl)' sessions. Then owing to a disagreement between tho Pope and Charles V., it was adjourned for Council ad- some years. Paul III. died, and two sue- ^j^jj^nder ceeding popes, before it really got to woik ^^"' ^^• again to any purpose under Paul IV. This was in 1555, the year in which, after the long struggle between Charles V. and Germany, the peace of Augsburg was come to, by which the revolt of the Protestant princes from Rome was first legally recognized as a thing which must be. The Council of Trent had now in its later sessions to reorganize what was left of the Catholic Church. It could not, and did not try to undo the re- ^, „ •' 1 he Roman volts. The Jesuits were the ruling power. Catholic Reaction was the order of the day. Cleri- formed in cal abuses were corrected, and some sort of m°ch more decency enforced. Provisions were made rigid than . , - , ever in creed. for the education of priests and for their de- votion in future to active duties. But in points of doc- trine there was reaction instead of (:oncession. The di- vine authority of the Pope was confirmed. The creed of the Church was laid down once for all in rigid state- ments, which henceforth must be swallowed by the faith- ful. Finally, the Inquisition, imported from Spain, was extended to other countries, and charged with the sup- pres.^ion of heretical doctrines. In a word, the rule of 214 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. iii. the ecclesiastical empire was strengthened, and the bonds of the scholastic system tightened ; but not for Christendom — only for those nations who still acknow- ledged the ecclesiastical supremacy of Rome. The Church was thus both reformed and narrowed by the decrees of the Council of Trent. Henceforth it tole- rated within its fold neither the old diversity of doctrine on the one hand, nor the old laxity of morals on the other hand, and henceforth it was by no means coexten- sive with Western Christendom, as it once had been. It is now generally called the 'Roman Catholic Church,' to distinguish it from the ' Catholic Church ' of the Mid- dle Ages, from which it and so many other churches have sprung. CHAPTER VI. THE FUTURE OF SPAIN AND FRANCE. (rti) The Future of Spaiti. Charles V. had inherited the absolute monarchy pre- pared for him by Ferdinand and Isabella. The strengthening of the central power was needful to create a modern nation. But the history of England has taught us that the central power may be strong with- out being an absolute monarchy. , ^ The vice in the Spanish system was the Growth of ,'^ ■' , absolute mon- attempt to scclc national power by subject- arciyin pain, jfjg ^^j ^^jg^gggg vvithin the nation to the ab- solute will of the monarch. This vice was the worm at the root of the greatness cf Spain, and silently wrought the ruin in which she finds herself to-day. „, , „ Philip II., the son and successor of Charles, was, like his predecessor, an absolute king. CH. VI. The future of Spain. 215 It was during the period of Spanish supremacy in Europe that the Council of Trent decreed -^^ gj^^g the absolute ecclesiastical supremacy of the 't^^ue with ' _ ■' the Fapacy. Pope. It was the Spanish Jesuits who had brought this about. It was by adopting the Spanish In- quisition that the ecclesiastical triumph was to be enforced upon the people. And now Philip II. "s aim, ^ , err r Seeks to as we have seen, was to establish both the establish , , .,_.,. , Spanish and absolute power of the Spanish throne and papal supre- the papal supremacy, wherever his rule ex- gjjher!" tended, by the sword and the Inquisition. England felt this influence in the days of Queen Mary, but happily Philip II. 's Spanish Armada failed to con- quer England under Elizabeth. He tried ^ , , ^ ° Fatal results his fatal policy in the Netherlands, and, as of his policy, we have seen, they revolted, made good their revolt from both Spain and Rome, and became a free Protest- ant nation. He tried the same fatal policy in Spain, and with what result ? The Spaniard of to-day points to the civil and ecclesiastical despotism of the reign of Philip II. (from which, unhappily, Spain could not shake herself free, as the Netherlands did) as the point in her history when her national life was strangled, her literature began to lose its power, her commerce to languish. To fatten an absolute monarchy, and armies of officials, soldiers, and priests, in course of generations the nation was ruined. Spain for a while was big on the map. For a while she maintained her supremacy in Europe, but her greatness was not the result of her advance on the path of modern civilization. It was not the result of true national life — the welding together of all classes into a compact nation. It rather belonged to the old order of things, and so was doomed to decay. 2i6 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi. {b) The future of France. Absolute monarchy answered no better for France than for Spain. France was a prey during the era to the evils caused by the constant wars of Francis I. While the two abso- lute monarchs strove for supremacy in Italy, sacrificed to their subjccts alike suffered. The reckless- fmWHo*of ness of the ambition of Francis I. showed the absolute itself in the way in which, while persecuting monarchy ■' i ii i • under heresy in France, he was ready to ally him- self with the Protestants of Germany, or even the Turks, if need be, to gain his military ends. He bequeathed his ambition for military glory and supre- macy to his successors. France, though a Catholic power, fought on the Pro- testant side in the Thirty Years' War, and one result of it was that the supremacy of Spain ended and that of France began. But French, no less than Spanish su- premacy, was the growth of absolute monarchy, contrary to the true interests of the French nation. It was gradu- ally ripening the seeds which were already sown, and which bore fruit in the great Revolution of 1789, and in the alternate republics and despotisms under which her which France has since suffered so much. mona'rchy The Want of common feeling and interest was to between the citizens of the towns and pea- France. ^ sants of the rural districts which began so early in French history still continues to perplex her ru- lers, and so does the lust for military glory and supre- macy in Europe which also is an old inheritance of the French people. The way in which the Protestant revolution w.is met in France also left scars upon the nation which may be traced to-day. Under Francis I., Calvinism spread in LH. VI, TTie future of France. 2:7 l-'rance among the nobility, whose order had been humbled to make way for the absolute mon- Struggle archy. This gave rise in the next era to re- HugJenots ligious wars, in which some of the Protes- '° France, tant nobility headed a rebellion against the Catholic throne. These civil wars lasted forty years, and cost the lives, it is said, of more than a million Frenchmen. In France the persecution of heresy was political as well as religious. Political ambition and intrigue, as well as religious bigotry, prompted it, and stained the pages of French history with crimes unique in their blackness. The massacre of St. Bartholomew in 1572 was the diabolical work of the queen, Catherine de' Massacre of Medici, to maintain her political power. )^mfw"a° She had coquetted with the Huguenots ^s?^- when it served her purpose. She tried to exterminate them by the massacre of 20,000 — some say 100,000 — in one fatal night. The Edict of Nantes in ^ , ° _ Toleration 1 598 ended the civil wars and granted a for a time , • 1 . •■ ■• under the respite from persecution, but its revocation Edict of in 1685 resulted in the banishment of the N=^"'<^*- Huguenots from France. Some of them I.ts revoca- ° tion in 1685, came to Protestant England, and brought and the ba- ... , . ... 11-1 T^i nishment of With them their silk and their looms. 1 hus the Hu- France by her intolerance lost one arm of f"^"°to' ^"^^ her national industry and an important ele- England. ment from her national character. The want of cohe- sion and unity of interest between various classes in France was increased by the banishment of the Hugue- nots. There is even now a middle term wanting — a missing link — between her religious and her republican elements. The Puritans — the religious republicans- were that middle term in England. .i8 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. iii. CHAPTER VII. GENERAL RESULTS OF THE ERA OF THE PROTESTAN1 REVOLUTION. (rt) On the Groiuth of National Life. We have now traced the course of the Protestant revo- , „ r lution, and marked both its direct results Influence of the Protest- upoH those nations which revoked from tion on na- Rome, and also its indirect results upon tiona 1 e. Rome herself and those nations which re- mained in allegiance to her ecclesiastical empire. The revolution was obviously only partially success- Whereitsuc- ^"^^ Where it succeeded it produced re- ceeded. form — the Protestant nations had gained one substantial step towards independent national life and towards the blending of all classes within them into one community. Where it failed, it produced, as every unsuccessful Where it revolution does, reaction. The Catholic na- ^^''"^d. tions seemed to gain in the outward signs of strength by the alliance which resulted between the civil and ecclesiastical powers within them. But it was an alliance intended to strengthen the absolute power of the Crown and of the ecclesiastical empire, and there- by all the more to enthrall the people. Henceforth, both in France and in Spain, the nation was more than ever enthralled under the double despotism of Crown and Church. The Incjuisition may be taken as the sym- bol of the one kind of despotism, and the French Bas- tille of the other. The two despotisms acting together tended, as we have seen, to destroy national life, to in- crease the separation of classes and prevent their beinc; welded together by common interests into one commu- CH. vir. Results of the Era. 219 nity. It postponed their progress on the path of modern civilization and ended in a series of alternate revolu- tions and reactions, out of which it is hard to see a final escape. So hard is it for nations to cast off the fruit, however bitter, of seeds sown even centuries ago ! Where it partially failed and partially succeeded, as in Switzerland and Germany, we have seen that it resulted in civil wars and in the postponement of the where it growth of their national life almost to our and partly'^ own times. In Switzerland the people were succeeded. already free, but in Germany, where serfdom still pre- vailed, the emancipation of the peasantry was postponed till the beginning of the nineteenth century. [h) On the Relations of Nations to each other. The Protestant struggle apparently did little or nothing to secure progress in civilization in the dealings between nations. The events of the era show that the small im- notion of universal empire which had piovcment m ^ the deahiigs marked the old order of things was not yet between na- fully given up. The ami after extension of empire which went along with it we have noticed throughout. The struggle between the two absolute monarchies of Spain and France for supremacy in Chris- tendom, the efforts of the princes of the House of Haps- burg to unite as many countries as they could under their rule, the designs that both France and Spain had upon Italy, the revived claims of Henry VIII. to the old English possessions in France — in all this there was little sign of progress from the old to the new order of things. Although the Oxford reformers were faithful in enjoining upon princes an international policy based The Oxford upon the golden rule, and having for its ob- not [iTtcned ject not the aggrandizement of the prince '° '" ''*'*• 2 20 Results of tlic Protestant Revolution, pt, iii, but the weal of the nation, the popes and princes still preferred to follow the maxims of "the Prince" of Machiavelli, rather than those of the " Christian Prince" of Erasmus. They still, as Erasmus said, treated the people too much as " cattle in the market." Nor was the immediate result of the Protestant revo- lution any cessation from international strife. For the next hundred years there was almost incessant strife between Catholic and Protestant powers. Though, however, Henry VIII. himself hankered But Henry again and again after the realization of the VIII. was empty title of King of France ; yet practically English king we may say that Henry VIII. 's dreams were recovering the last in which English monarchs have France. indulged on that subject. And though the attempts to urge sounder views on international matters did not succeed in this era, yet they And Hueo were not made wholly in vain. Before the Grotmsv/as centurv was out was born Hus-o Grotius, the born beiore ^ . the century father of the present system of international law, who was well acquainted with the works of Erasmus, and like him rejected Machiavellian prin- ciples and sought to base the law of nations upon the golden rule. (r) Injluenee on the Growth of National Languages and Literature. In no point was the effect of the Protestant struggle more clearly marked than in the stride it gave, as it were all at once, to the growth of national languages and literature. In Germany we noticed how Luther and Hutten ap- pealed to the people as well as to the learned ; how, first writing in Latin for scholars, they soon found it needful CH. VII. Jifsults of the Era. 221 to write in German for the people ; how Luther intro« duced wood-cuts to make his appeals to the popular ear still more vivid and telling. All this promoted the growth of a national popular literature. This turning from Latin to German was in fact throwing Luther's off in one point the yoke of the scholastic hmniTfix system, and was in itself a great step in ad- t^^ character r • , , T-, ofthcGer- vance for the nation to have taken. The man lan- crowning gift of Luther to the German peo- ^^^e- pie was in fact his German Bible and his German hymns. The earnest vigorous German in which they are written fixed the future style of the language. The German spoken to-day is the German of Luther's Bible and hymns. They have been better known by the German people than any other literature, and so have done more than perhaps anything else to form the German lan- guage, and with it in no small degree the national character. It was so in some measure in France. Calvin did not gain so great a hold on the French nation as Luther did on the German, but still his M"^"," of ' Calvin s French Writings did very much the same writings on the French Isn- thing for the French language that Luther's guage. Bible did for the German. In England, too, the same thing is to be marked. The fact that the religious controversies of the times were carried on by books and pamphlets, not in 1 ■ ■, . „ ,. , . , Influence of Latm but m Lnglish, gave a stmiuius to Tmdal's New English literature, and prepared the way for ile'Erg'uh"" the succeeding generations which were to y5r^'°" °[ '^' ° " Bible, and so give England her Shakespeare and her Mil- upon the Eng. ton. Nor can it be forgotten that the noble '^ ^nguage. English version of the Bible has done as much as othei versions in other countries to fix the character of mo 22 2 Results of the Protestant Rciwlution. pt. iii. dern English. The simphcity, terseness, and power of the English version, to which the taste of England, aftei frequent wanderings, again and again returns as to its best classical model, we owe, and this should not be forgotten, to the poor, persecuted, but noble-minded English reformer, William Tindal, who, in his English New Testament, set a type which others in completing tile translation of the whole Bible loyally followed. [d^ Effect in Stimulating National Educatiott. The samie movement which promoted so much the growth of national language and literature, also did much to throw open the gates of knowledge to the people by fostering education and schools. Savonarola founded schools in Florence. Colet set a noble example in England, and the next generation fol- lowed it by establishing the grammar-schools fd^by'slvonfl which SO oftcn bear the name of King Ed- rola, Colet. and ^^rd VI. Luther and the Protestant Ger- others, Luther, Calvin, Knox, man States established common schools. the Pilgrim _,.,.,, ,. ■ r^ i Fathers, and Calvin did the same thing in Geneva, and Jesuits. Calvin's disciple, John Knox, in Scotland. Finally, the Pilgrim Fathers carried the same zeal for education to their colonies in New England. Even the Jesuits made a great point of education, and became noted wherever they went for their educational establishments. So that both in Cathohc and Protestant countries a great stimulus was given to popular education during the era, while the fact that at least some of the property of the dissolved monasteries was diverted to educational purposes in connexion with the Universities and otherwise, gave a somewhat similar stimulus also to higher education. CH. VII. Results of the Era, 223 [e) Injlitcnce on Domestic Life. There are few things, if any, more important to the steady growth of a free nation than the maintenance of domestic virtues and the sanctities of family hfe. The domestic instincts, more than any others, were the first germs of national life. In Teutonic nations espe- cially the powerful ties of family life, widen- political im- ing in their sphere extended from the family P'^"^'>'^.^ "' ° '^ •' domestic to the tribe, from the tribe to the nation, in- life, troducing law and order and peaceful relations within the sphere embraced by them. Now the domestic virtues of nations had ^ JJanger to it been in great danger of decay, and no from''ihe ex- doubt had suffered enormously through the country of influence of so large a body of clergy, monks, \^^ citJ^ses. and nuns in a forced state of celibacy. This system sapped the foundations of domestic life by holding up the married state as lower in virtue than that of celibacy, by cutting off so large a number of people from the natural influences of home-life, and still further by promoting in a terrible degree immorality and crime. The dissolution of the monastenes and ^. , . Dissolution permission of the marriage of the parochial of monaste- clergy were in themselves steps gained in misston Xo'' civilization of great importance in a moral the clergy to t> r marry, a Step and political, as well as in a religious point i" civilization. of view. (_/) hifluence oft Popular Religion, In yet another way did the Protestant revolution suc- ceed in promoting national life and the aims of Christian civilization. J24 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. in. It made religion less a thing of the clergy and more a thing of the people. It gave the people religious ser- ^, „ vices in their own languages instead of in The Protes- tant move- an Unknown tongue. By placing within larized re"' their reach the Christian Scriptures in their I'gion, o^w language it led them to think for them- selves, and to be directly influenced by Christianity as taught by its founder and apostles. It tended to strengthen individual conviction and conscience, and so ultimately it led, though with many drawbacks, to fur- ther steps being gained towards freedom of thought. It is well to mark also that this bringing of religion nearer home to the individual conscience of the masses of the people, and cultivation of individual and brought '■ '■ it into har- responsibility rather than reliance on a mony with • i i i i 11 i • • true Chris- pnesthood or a church, tended to brmg it modeL''"'^ more into harmony, not only with the ten- civilization, dencies of modern civilization but also with the essential character of Christianity itself, as conceived by its founder and his apostles, and so to make it once more the great civilizing influence which from the rirst it was intended to be. Christianity was without doubt the power which more than anything else produced the great movement of the ,, , era, and turned the civilization of the future Modem . ... civilization mto the course we have described. The chief charac- mere humanists had not succeeded in im- Christynit pressing the semi-pagan stamp of their phi- losophy upon it. Had they done so the principle of the old Roman civilization — the good of the few at the expense of the many — might have marked the civilization of the future as it had done that of the past. But we have seen it was the men of deepest Christian convictions — the religious reformers--- who sue CH. VII. Jicsu/ts of ike Era. 225 ceeded in giving their impress to the era. It is thus to Christianity more t'.ian to anything else that we owe the direction given in tlie era to modern civilization, its char- acteristic aim to attain the highest good for the whole community. (£) Want of Progress in Toleration. There was one thing especially in which there seemed to be reaction rather than progress during the era, viz. in toleration. We said that one great work of the era was to set men's minds free from ecclesiastical and scholastic thral- dom — to set both science and religion free, for without this freedom there could be no real progress in civiliza- tion. In fact, an immense number of minds had got free from that particular, ecclesiastical and scholastic thral- dom against which they had rebelled in be- ^, - -n « 1 1 • • ■ 1 r Change from commg Protestant. And this m itself was Catholic to no small result. But what has already been creeds was said must have made it clear that the Pro- change from one rigid testant reformers, in adopting the theology scholastic r r. » • , . . . , . creed to of St. Augustine, and insisting upon their another followers adopting the new Protestant '^'^"'^ ^ "^' creeds, did but appeal from the scholastic standards of their day to others just as rigid. The Oxford Reformers had aimed at leaving people open to form their own honest judgment on various points of theology and practice, accordingr . Small connex- to their own consciences, and urged that ion between people with different opinions and practice dom'of"t1iought might be members of the same Christian f"*^ conceding * it to others. Church, have charity one towards another, and agree to differ without ciuarrelling. But how hard a 2 26 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. iii. thing it was to get people to do this we see from the casa of Sir Thomas More himself, who, though he had advo- cated toleration in his 'Utopia,' yet afterwards, seeing the anarchy Protestantism had led to on the Continent, and fearing its spreading to England, became himself a persecutor. We must not be surprised after this that the Protestant Reformers failed also in the same respect. It is strange to see how little connexion there seems to be between claiming freedom of thought and conceding it to others. Lutherans persecuted Catholics as v/ell as Catholics Protestants ; and, worse still, they persecuted their fel- low-Protestants who followed Zwingle and Calvin rather than Luther. So Calvin put Servetus to death, and ex- So persecution crciscd a thoroughly intolerant rule in the p°ers«il;'ed Geneva. So the English Government, after tolerant. ^q revolt from Rome, persecuted Protes- tants, and soon after ordered by statute practices which a few years before they had condemned. So the Catho- lic Government of Queen Mary shed the blood of Pro- testants again. So the English Protestant Church of after generations persecuted the Puritans. So finally, the Puritans, fleeing from persecution to New England, put people to death for no other crime than that they honestly preached doctrines differing from their own ! Looking at these facts, one would certainly say that the Protestant struggle had not made men more tolerant! And yet, in spite of this temporary failure, toleration was a distant fruit of the great movement we have traced. In this era its first seeds were Yet toleration _ . _,, - , , , t t • • was after all sown. Sir Thomas More s Utopia was mate°Ve*'suui'of perhaps the first clear statement of the doc- the Protestant ^j.jj^g ^f toleration. The works of Erasmus revolution. did something, probably more than is CH. VII, Results of the Era. 227 known, to prepare the minds of men for its ultimate adoption. The strength of conscientious conviction which Protestantism created made men claim freedom as a right, and after all, the men who were fighting the battle of toleration with most effect, were the men whose strength of conscientious conviction made them endure persecution rather than surrender their freedom of con- science, even though they themselves, under other cir- cumstances, might have been persecutors. (/■) The Causes why the Success of the Era was so Partial. We might, in view simply of its immediate results — • the wars and bloodshed, and anarchy, persecutions, and heartburnings which came out of it — be inclined to re- gard the failures of the era of the Protestant revolution as greater than the good we owe to it. This would be false. It would be to forget that pro- gress in civilization is of necessity like that „ .... \ Progress of the advancmg tide, made up of ebbs and must be flows. It is well also to note clearly the ^"^^ cause of the failures, and especially of those of which we have just been speaking. Let us ask ourselves why did not the human mind in this era free itself from its trammels, claim its trae freedom, and concede it to everyone } Limited by The answer is, that it was impossible. The men^sloiow- range of knowledge was too narrow. Men's ''^'^s^- minds could not take a broader view of things than the horizon of their knowledge let them. Let us try to realize what were the bounds of their knowledge m some directions. They knew that the earth is a globe, and in their own time Magellan, for the first time, had sailed round it. 228 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi. But they thouErht the earth was in the centre Limited view .,. oftheuni- of the universc, and that all the heavenly bodies move round it every twenty-four hours. The notion that it was the earth that moved they The earth thought to be absurd. We should see the tobe'^irthe' motion, they said. At the rate it would centre. have to move, it would leave the clouds be- hind it as it went, and towers and church steeples would be thrown down by the violence of so rapid a motion ! So the earth stands still, they maintained in the centre of the universe. The heavenly bodies were supposed The cnstal- *^° rotate on what were called crystalline line spheres. spheres. The first was the sphere of the moon — all things confined within it were called sublunary things. They were supposed by some to be under such pressure as made the heaviest things all tend towards the centre, while the lightest things tended upwards. It was sometimes said that it was in the nature of fire and air to rise, while it was the nature of water and earth to fall towards the centre. In rough ways like these they tried to account for the facts which are now attributed to the force of gravitation. The spheres beyond the moon were called celestial spheres. First, they thought, came those of Mercury, Venus, and the Sun, then in order those of Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn ; then that of the fixed stars, and, outside all, a ninth sphere, called primuni mobile, which gave motion to all the others. They be- Heaven lievcd further, in a vague way, that heaven beyond. Came beyond. Theologians speculated upon what sort of a sphere that of heaven must be, and Erasmus, in his ' Praise of Folly,' laughed at their 'creating new spheres at pleasure, this the largest and most beautiful being added that, forsooth, happy spirits CH. vir. Results of the Era. 229 might have room enough to take a walk, to spread theil feasts, or play at ball.' Such was the universe of spheres, one within the other, which they thought all moved round the earth in the centre every twenty-four hours. It was The motions a small thing altogether, compared with the regarded ^^^^ vastly wider and grander universe, a little '**'"'^ ^*^' bit of which modern science has revealed to us, but it was a marvellous universe still, and its mysteries filled them with awe when they thought of it. When asked questions about it, some wise men like Erasmus answered, ' God only knows.' But more super- stitious minds gave far different answers, and in popu- Luther, who saw the action of the Devil in lar supersti- tion reterred every accident which befell him, stood to angels, aghast at the magic motions of the celestial spheres, as ' no doubt done by some angel.' Many wise . ■! ^ J Astrology. men still believed in astrology. They could not bring themselves to believe that the stars and planets, looking down upon our world, had not some magic meaning. When comets came, they saw in them omi- nous presages of coming events. Pico and Ficino, Colet, Erasmus, and More had all tried to Laughed at laugh people out of belief in astrology, by some, but ^ r r ^ oj believed in Luther, too, laughed at it, but Melanchthon by others, still held on to the old belief in spite of Luther's argu- iTients and jests. How can there be anything in astro- 'ogy, Luther used to say to him, since Jacob and Esau were born under the same star ! The same kind of superstition which attributed the motions of the planets to angels, and magic influence on the affairs of men to the stars, made men „ , ^ Belief in the more readily believe in visions and in- visions and , , . , inspirations. spirations, such as we have seen m the case i?30 Results of the Protestant RevoliitioJi. pt. ill. of the wilder reformers from Savonarola down to Miin- zer and Loyola. Luther himself was remarkably free from these things — he never claimed either visions or in- spirations, as the wilder prophets did ; but, as an in- stance of how superstitious even he was, it may be men- tioned that he and Melanchthon devoutly believed that a monster had been found in the Tiber, with and in prodi- , , , r , n j r j gies. the head of an ass, the body oi a man, and the claws of a bird. After searching their Bibles to find out what the prodigy meant, they concluded that it was one of the signs and wonders which were to precede the fall of the papacy, and published a pamphlet about it. Luther again, and probably everybody else, believed in witchcraft. Hundreds and thousands of poor wretches were burned for the supposed crime of hav- Uni versa! . , , , , , r ■-, belief in mg sold themselves to the powers of evil, wi c cr?. . ^^^ having held communion with evil spirits. And stranger still is it that the number of witches ,„. , burned was rapidly on the increase. There Witches as _ -^ well as here- Were morc witchcs burned in the i6th cen- tics burned. , . . , tury than m any previous one, ana more still in the next. Heresy and witchcraft were looked upon as nearly allied, and probably the zeal against both grew together. Nor was the cruel death allotted to these supposed crimes out of proportion to that of others. Thousands and thousands of people were hung in England for no other crime but that of vagrancy and ' sturdy begging.' The system of criminal law was everywhere Cruelty of ^ . iir i_ criminal law brutal. Soon after the Peasants War, the everyw ere. ppj^^e Bishop of Bamberg published a popular criminal law book for the benefit of his subjects — his poor crushed peasantry among others — in which LH. vn. Results of the Era. 231 were inserted wood-cuts of thumb-screws, the rack, the gallows, the stake, pincers for pulling out the tongue, men with their eyes put out or their heads cut off, or mangled on the wheel, or suspended by the arms with weights hung on their feet, and so on, and then, to add the terrors of another world (as if these humanly in- flicted tortures were not enough), there was a blasphe- mous picture representing the day of judgment, and the hobgoblins carrying off their victims to hell. The Prince Bishop, we may suppose, had learned a lesson from Luther, and produced, as he thought, a good book for the laity, meant, not like Luther's, to dispel men's fears of the Pope, but to frighten his poor subjects into sub- mission to his episcopal and princely authority. This may be taken as an example both of the way in which civil and ecclesiastical power were sometimes blended together, and of the brutality of the times. Such an age was not ready for wider views. Further knowledge of the laws of nature must come „, ° . . 1 he age not before popular superstitions could be re- prepared for moved, and until this was done it would be in vain to look for much progress in toleration and free- dom of thought. (?) Beginning of Progress in Scientific hiqttiry. Nevertheless the era of which we have spoken was the beginning of the era of freedom. From it dated a great awaking of human thought. Its great „ . . geographical discoverers had opened new scientific in- fields for scientific inquiry. Not only had i""^^' navigators been round the world, but they had seen as it were the rest of the sky. They had seen the south polestar and the Southern Cross in their voyages round the Cape of Good Hope. Thus was not only their 232 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. hi. geographical but also their astronomical knowledge widened. A beginning of truer and wider views of the universe was almost a natural consequence, but to attain to it scholastic and even ecclesiastical bonds had to be loosened. A scientific Luther was wanted to burst through them, but the age did not produce such a man. Nevertheless it did produce one who silently lived and worked timidly to demonstrate that the motions of the planets and the moon can only be fully accounted for on the hypothesis that the sun and not the earth is the cen- tre of the solar system, that the moon is a satellite of the earth, and that the sphere of the fixed stars is at an immense distance from the farthest of the planetary spheres. Our present theory of the solar system is still sometimes called after his name, Copcrnican, though it is far more truly called after Newton. Nicolas Copernicus died two years before Luther. His story is that of a brave life, and one which may ,^ , ^ well be set by the side of that of other Nicolas Co- ■' pernicus. great men of the era. Educated at the University of Cracow, in Poland, he after- wards proceeded to Rome, and studied under the best astronomer of the day. Then he spent a long life in working out his grand scientific problem from careful observations and according to the best lights he could get. He was loyal to the Church. He did not want to be a heretic, and yet the great truth he had to tell was contrary to the teaching of the Church. For thirty-six years — all the time the Protestant struggle was raging — ■ he was working at the immortal book in which his ob- servations and discoveries were embodied, but he did not venture to publish it till under Paul III. there was a lull in the ecclesiastical storm. He was then an old man, CH. VIII. Ecoiioviic Results of the Era. 233 in broken health ; his book was in the printer's hands when he was on his death- ^^ published bed. All he cared for now was to see it h" ^deaih-bed" safe in print before he died. He waited at death's door day after day. At last the printer's mes- senger came with the printed book. He received it with tears in his eyes, composed himself and died. This was in 1543, and he was seventy years old. He was fol- lowed by other scientific discoverers — Tycho Brahe, Kepler, and Galileo. Thus the brave life of Copernicus may be taken as marking the epoch when scientific thought and inquiry began to free itself from theologi- cal trammels and to seek to discover the laws of nature by a simple, childlike, and careful observation of facts. But necessarily many generations must pass away before men became used to scientific modes of research and of thought. CHAPTER VIII. ECONOMIC RESULTS OF THE ERA. Amongst the powers which belonged to the old order of things, and which were going out, the feudal system was mentioned as silently giving way under „ , 1 ■ ^ r , 1 r 1 Results of the the combmed mnuence of the growth of the era on what re ^ , • ., J . • J r maincd of the central power m the modern nations and of feudal system. commerce. The results of the era in hastening the dissolution of the feudal system require a few words of further expla- nation. In Germany, we have seen, serfdom — the essential of which, it will be remembered, was services of forced 234 Results of the Protestant Rezwhition. pt. iii. T „ personal labor in return for occupation of In Germany ^ personal ser- land — remained unchanged, except for the tinued. worse, after the Peasants' War, and lasted on till the beginning of the present cen- tury. In France serfdom was a thing of the past, but there In France remained numberless feudal rents and pay- feudal rents ments made chiefly in kind (i.e. in produce and payments •' -' ^ '^ c\i\e&y in kind of the land) which the peasantry went on continued till . .,, , „ , __ , . ^ _ 1798. paymg till the rrench Revolution of 1798. In England serfdom was gone, but had left behind it fixed rents in money instead of the old feudal payments , ^ , in services or in kind. These rents were In England feudal rents Originally nearly equal to the annual value were chiefly r ..i i j t> .. in fixed money of the land. But an economic cause came payments. jj^j^ pj^y during the era which, while it did not help the German peasant nor the French peasant who ^^ , , paid his rent in kind, lessened the burden of Eflfectofthe '^ discovery of the English peasant's rent so much as to mines ^n^he change his position gradually into that of an New World. absolute owner. This economic cause was the discovery of the silver and gold mines in the New World. It made silver more plentiful, and therefore cheaper in proportion to other things, such as corn and land. In other words, it increased the price in pence and shillings of almost everything. A penny or a shilling value of money would iiot buy SO much com after as before caused a ^reat , . , . j j • rise in prices, the new mines were discovered ; and as in England Tudor monarchs at the same time for their own purposes, lessened the weight of silver in the penny and shilling by about one-third, the effect of the increased plenty of silver was made all the greater ; 6.S. would buy a quarter of wheat at the beginning of the CH. VIII. Eco)iomic Results of the Era. 235 century, it took 38^. 6d. to buy a quarter of wheat at the end of it. The annual value of land was about \d. per acre at the beginning of the century, 30^'. at the end of it. The German peasant was not helped by this, for he had to work just as many hours a day for his feudal landlord at the end as at the beginning of ^, . ,. , ° ° This did not the century. lessen the Ger- T^, T- 1. i e ■!_ • J • i"3" peasant's The French peasant, so far as he paid m services. produce, was not helped by it, because the ^^^ ^^^ price of his produce had increased as fast as French pea- , r , , 1 11- -1 sant's rents in the value of the land, and his rent remained produce, the same burden as before. But the English peasant, who in the year 1500 paid ^d. an acre fixed rent for his land, which was then worth about Ld. an acre in the market, t, . , . _ But It reduced found himself in 1600, if he still held on to the burden of ,.,,.,, . , , ... the English his land, still paying only \d. an acre, while peasants' rents his land was worth in the market six, seven, ^"thorTgthof or eight times as much as that. His burden the value of ° their land. of rent was reduced to ^th or gth of what it This would J , have made used to be. them peasant Had the English peasantry held on to ^Xteyheld their land as the German and French pea- ?" '° 'h^''^, \ land. But their sants did, they would thus have grown into tendency was . , . ,, . to leave their peasant proprietors, paying very small nomi- land and be- nal rents for their land. But other economic ^"""^ '^tourers for wages. causes were at work, tending to loosen them from their little holdings and make them labourers for wages. The growth of commerce and manufactures at- tracted them to the towns, the large farms of men with capital more and more took the place of the little peasant holdings, and thus began the present state of things in which England differs so much from other countries. There were perhaps, in the year 1500, about half a 2,36 Results of the Protestant Revolution, pt. in. Change from peasant pro- prietorship of land or of looms to labour for wages. million families in England living by the land, and most were, or had been, farming some little bit of land for themselves. Perhaps there were not so many as a quarter of a million families earning their living by trade or manufactures in the towns, and most of them owning their own workshops or looms. The half million agricultural families have now grown into about a million. These no longer are occupiers of land, but are mostly working for wages for a few hun- dred thousand farmers. But in the meantime the two or three hundred thousand families living by trade and manufactures have increased to 3,000,000, and these again, as a general rule, like their agricultural brethren, have become workers for wages, and no longer are owners of their own workshops and looms. We probably owe this to the growth of capital and commercial enterprise, stimulated by the increased profit which comes from division of labour, and doing things on a large scale by machinery rather than on a small scale as of old by hand labour. But what we have to mark here is that the beginnings of these great changes were already at work in the era of which we have been speaking, and that in their course the last remains of the old feudal system have been demo- lished in England. We only see in England now traces of a sort of mock-feudalism in the deer forests and game preserves, and antiquated forms and customs still clinging to the laws of land tenure. These things are survivals of a system which once had life, but which belonged to the old order of things. In the 1 6th century it was already fast dying out chiefly the result of the growth of commerce and capital, and the use of machinery These changes had begun in the i6th century, and they com- pleted the- silent down- fall of the feudal system in England. CH. VIII, Conclusion. 237 to make way for commercial enterprise and all that belongs to the new order of things — an order of- things which has multiplied by six or seven the population of England, and peopled with about an equal additional number of Englishmen those great colonies for which the maritime enterprise of the i6th century first opened the way. CONCLUSION. In the introductory chapter we said that the passage from the old decaying form of civilization to the new, better, and stronger one, involved a change which must needs take place slowly and by degrees ; but that in the era under review was to be the crisis of the change — the final struggle between the two forces. We have now traced the main lines of the history of this crisis, and tried to point out its connexion with the future as well as with the past. We have seen that the Protestant revolution was but one wave of the advancing tide of modern civilization, tarn revoiu- It was a great revolutionary wave, the on- begij^tng'tTf ward swell of which, beginning with the f 8'''=^' '■'=v°- _ hitionary refusal of reform at the Diet of Worms, pro- wave which duced the Peasants' War and the Sack of French Rome, swept on through the revolt of the ^"^'g""" Netherlands, the Thirty Years' War, the Puritan Revolution in England under Oliver Cromwell, the formation of the great independent American re- public, until it came to a head and broke in all the terrors of the French Revolution. It is impossible not to see in the course of the events of this remarkable period an onward movement as 238 Results of the Protestant Revoluiion. pt. ill. irresistible and certain in its ultimate pro« gress as that of the geological changes which have passed over the physical world. It is in vain to speculate upon what might have been the result of the concession o( broad measures of reform everywhere (as in England) whilst yet there was time ; but in view of the bloodshed and misery which, humanly speaking, might have been spared, who can fail to be impressed with the terrible responsibility, in the eye of history, resting upon those by whom in the i6th century, at the time of the crisis, the reform was refused ? They were utterly powerless, indeed, to stop the ultimate flow of the tide, but they had the terrible power to turn, what might otherwise have been a steady and peaceful stream, into a turbulent and devastating flood. They had the terrible power, and they used it, to involve their own and ten succeeding generations in the turmoils of revolution. The movC' ment was inevitable, und might liave been peacefully met and aided by timely re- forms. But the refusal of reform at the time of the crisis in- volved ten generations in the turmoils of revolution. NOTES ON BOOKS IN ENGLISH RELATING TO THE REFORMATION. The term " Reformation" is used by historical writers in two meanings. It quite frequently denotes the reh- gious movement, which began under the auspices of , Luther, Calvin, Cranmer and other leaders, and in- volved an emancipation from the rule of the Papacy, and an important change in the interpretation of the Gospel, as well as in the rites of Christian worship. The Reformation, as thus regarded, is an exclusively religious and ecclesiastical revolution. As such, it forms a portion of the history of Christianity and the Church. At the same time, Protestantism, as a religious system, was partly dependent for its origin on circum- stances which properly fall within the province of secu- lar history ; and the progress of Protestantism, and of the conflict with the Papacy, is inextricably connected with the general course of European affairs. Hence, the general condition of society at the opening of the sixteenth century, the causes other than religious which prepared for the outbreaking of the great Protest against Rome, and the events of political history which link themselves to the religious Reform, must fall under the notice of a historian who takes a comprehensive view of his subject. But the term " Reformation " is frequently used with more latitude as a convenient designation for the open- ing era of modern history, — the history of the post- mediaeval times. While the religious reform was one 2^q 240 Notes on Books in English leading and defining characteristic of the new era, it was not the sole peculiarity that distinguished it. On the contrary, various and complex elements, appear in the modern as distinguished from the mediaeval period. Events like the growth of monarchy, the spread of Com- merce, the new birth of Art, the Revival of Learning, are essential features in that form of society which gradually arose, and followed upon the Middle Ages. The histo- rian who undertakes to describe the era as a whole must , give its proper place to each of these new elenipnts. He must trace each to its sources, and form an estimate of the reciprocal influence and collective effect of ach of these features of society as it emerged from-"the mediaeval condition. But he will, under such a f^an, still be obliged to give a central place to the religious movement, both in the centuries which preceded Luther, and in the age contemporaneous with him. The Pro- testant religion cannot be considered as an incident ; it must be treated as a vital, as the most commanc^ing, fact in the new epoch. So that whether the Refo'/'ma- tion is taken in the more special sense to which w^'-first adverted, or in the more comprehensive meaning^ the same facts come under the survey of the historian, ' The difference is chiefly in the point of view from v hich these facts are regarded, which will of course determine their grouping. As regards the mediaeval period, secu- lar history and ecclesiastical history are inseparable. Neither can be studied apart from the other. If a divi- sion is more possible as relates to the modern era, still even here, one class of phenomena are so closely asso- ciated with another, that ecclesiastical history cannot be understood apart from secular, nor can secular history be adequately studied apart from ecclesiastical. The life of nations, as of men, is one. Relating to the Reformation. 241 In the following list of some of the most useful works to be found in English on the Reformation, general literary works, as well as distinctively ecclesiastical wri- ters, are included. I. The Period before Luther. On Wickliffe, the Re- forming Councils, and the beginnings of the Revival of Learning, the last two (viith and viiith) volumes of Mil- man's Lati7i Christianity are valuable. The fifth vol- ume of the same work describes the Waldenses and other sects, of an earlier date. UUmann's Reformers before the Reformation (2 vols., Edinburgh, 1855) gives ar excellent account of the theological and religious fo-trunners of Luther, especially in Germany. Gillett's Ltj4 and Times of John Huss (2 vols., 1871) is a reada- bl£> narrative of the career of the Bohemian Reformer. Villari's Life of Savonarola is a thorough biography (2 vols., 1873). With it may be read George Eliot's (Mrs. Lewes's) Romola. The most recent Life of Erasmus is by Drummond (2 vols., 1873). Milman's Article on Et smus [Quart. Rev., No. ccxi., and in his collected Es ays) is an elaborate and instructive discussion. Jor- tin ' Life of Erasmus is a learned, but at the same time, ai. interesting biography, abounding in extracts from the/Writings of Erasmus. Upon Erasmus and his asso- ciates, the friends of the New Learning, in England, we have Seebohm's The Oxford Reformers of i4gZ (Lon- don, 1869). The literature of the age prior to Luther is described in the work of Hallam, Introductioti to the Lit. of Europe in the 13th, i6th, and lyth centuries (3 vols., 1855-56). IL General Works upon the Reformation. Robert- son's History of Charles V. Edited by W. H. Prescott, with supplement on the Cloister Life of the En^peror (3 vols., 1856). Robertson prefixes to his work an Essay O 242 Notes on Books in English on the state of Europe at the accession of Charles. Prescott's History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isa- bella, exhibits the causes which gave its pecuhar tone to Spanish CathoUcism, prior to the sixteenth century. Ranke, History of the Popes of Rome during the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries. Translated by Sarah Austin, (3 vols., 1867). This is a work of the highest value. Hausser, The Period of the Reformation, 1517- 1648. Translated from the German by Mrs. G. Sturges (New York, 1874) is a very able series of historical lec- tures, and is especially valuable for the political side of the history of this period. Guizot's Lectures on the His- tory of Civilization contain two chapters on the Re- formation and its consequences. D'Aubigne's History of the Reforinatiofi is a full, detailed narrative, in a viva- cious style, by a warm advocate of Protestantism. On the Catholic side is Spaulding's History of the Reforma- tion (Baltimore, 1866). Balmes, Protestantism and Cath- olicity compared in their effects on Civilization : trans- lated from the Spanish (1851), is a voluminous polemi- cal book, by a Spanish Priest, in reply to Guizot's Lectures on Civilization. The Reformation, by G. P. Fisher, is designed " to present to intelligent and edu- cated readers the means of acquainting themselves " with the Reformation, in its various aspects (i vol., 1873)- _ The ivth vol. of Gieseler's Church History (in the American Edition) is an extremely learned and satisfac tory account of the Reformation ; but it is adapted to scholars, and not to the general reader. Hardwick's History of the Rcformatioti is likewise intended for scholars and theologians, and is written by a decided adherent of the Church of England. The chapters on the Reformation in Hase's Church History are less Relating fo the Reformation. 243 scholastic, but are still specially adapted to the theologi- cal scholar. Waddington's History of the Refomtation, is a carefully written, impartial narrative, of a more popular character ; but it extends only to the death of Luther. III. Works upon the Refonnatioit in the several coun- tries. («) Gef7nany. At the head of the list belongs Ranke's History of Germany in the Period of the Re- formation : translated in part, by Sarah Austin, (3 vols., 1845-47). Michelet's Life of Luther (i vol.), and Table- Talk of Luther, are both translated in Bohn's Library. The Life of Luther by Barnas Sears (8 vo., 1850), is brief, but founded on an extensive knowledge of the sources. [b) Switzerhind. Christofifel's Zwingli, or the Rise of the Reformation in Switzerland, is one of the latest biographies of the Zurich Reformer. The Life of Cal- vin, by Beza, translated from the Latin by Gibson (Philad., 1836), is one of the original documents relating to the subject. The Life of Calvin by Dyer (1849) is accurate and impartial. The most copious and com- plete of the biographies of Calvin is by Henry, trans- lated from the- German by Stebbing (3 vols., 1844).. The Letters of Calvin, edited by Bonnet, translated in 2 vols. (Edinburgh, 1856-57), are important. There is an English translation of all of Calvin's Writings, in 52 vols. (Edinburgh, 1856-57). [c] Detimark, Norway, arid Sweden. Dunham, His- tory of these countries (in Lardner's Cab. Cycl., 1840). Geijer, History of Sweden, translated by Turner (1845). {d) Bohemia and Moravia. The Reformation and Anti- Reformation in Bohemia (2 vols., London, 1845.) {d\ Poland. Krasinski, History of the Reformation itt Poland (2 vols., London, 1840). By the same Author, 244 Notes on Books in English Sketch of the. Religious History of the Slavonic Natiom (Edinburgh, 185 1). {e) France. The chapters, on the Reformation, in Michelet's General History of France, are correct and animated. The Student's History of France (i vol., 8vo., 1862) gives a brief narrative of the Reformation and the Civil Wars. Ranke's History of France, espe- cially in the i6th and lyth centuries, is translated in part under the title, History of Civil Wars and Monarchy in France, London, 1852. The whole work, like the rest of the series by Ranke on this era, is masterly. Among the other valuable works on the French Reformation, are De Felice, History of French Protestants, translated by Lobdell (1851). W. S. Browning, History of the Huguciiots in the i6th century (3 vols., 1829-39). [Mrs. Marsh], History of the Huguenots (2 vols., 1847). Due D'Aumale, Lives of the Princes of Cofide (vol. i. and ii., London, 1872). H. White, The Massacre of St. Bar- tholomew, preceded by a narrative of the religious wars (London, 1868). This one of the best of the histories of this period ; it gives interesting details. (/) Netherlands. Brandt, History of the Reformation in the Netherlands (4 vols., 4to.). Engl, translation (London, 1720). Brandt is the learned Arminian histo- rian. His voluminous work is highly prized by scholars. Motley, Rise of the Dutch Republic, 3 vols. (New York, 1856). Prescott, History of Philip H. (3 vols., 1855.) [g) England. The works of the English Reformers have been published by the Parker Society, in 54 vols., with a general index. The general histories of England treat of the Reformation ; as Macaulay (in his Introduc- tory Chapter) — also, in his reviews of Ranke, and Hal- lam ; Hume Lingard, from the Roman Catholic point ot view; Froude, etc. Hailam s Constituttonal Histcrx Relating to the Refoj-mation. 245 is an authority of the first rank on all legal and constitu- tional questions connected with the rise and progress of Protestantism in England, and is instructive on collat- eral points. Burnet's History of the Reformation, is the work of an honest writer, with extraordinary means of knowledge, but sometimes swayed by prejudice. The biographical and historical writings of Strype are of great value to the student who wishes to make a thor- ough study of the English Reformation, Massingberd's History of the English Reformation has passed through many editions. It is concise. J. H. Blunt, in his his- tory of the Reformation to the death of Wolsey, 1514-47 (London, 1872) represents the conservative, or High Church opinions. He bestows much praise upon Wol- sey and his ideas of Reform. Neal's History of the Piiritatts from the Reformation to the death of Queen Elisabeth, is a learned account of the Reformation from the Puritan standing-point. Bacon's Genesis of the New England Churches is a narrative of the rise of Indepen- dency, and of the migration of the Pilgrims to Ply- mouth. {h) Scothmd. The History of the Reformatio?!, by John Knox himself, is one of the principal sources of informa- tion. Robertson, History of Scotland durifjg the reigns of Mary and fames VI., etc. McCrie's Life of fohn Knox is highly instructive. Burton, History of Scotland to 1688. This is the most recent, and probably the best of the histories of Scotland. It is full upon the Reformation. (/) Italy. McCrie's Histoty of the Reformation in Italy, is a standard work. M. Young's Life of Palcario (2 vols., i860) throws light upon the history of Italian protestantism. (/) Spain. McCrie's History of the Reformation in Spain is the best work on the subject. Prescott's His' 246 Notes on Books Relating to the Reformation. tory of Philip II. Ticknor's History of Spanish Litera- ture, and Llorente's History of the Inquisition in Spain, may be consulted with profit. In addition to the foregoing titles, may be mentioned Sarpi's History of the Council of Trent, Ranke's History of the Popes, Hiibner's Life of Pope Sixtus V., Stein- metz's History of the Jesuits, Isaac Taylor, Loyola and fesuitism iu its Rudiments. These works bear on the rise and progress of the Catholic Reaction. publisher's note. A full list of " Works in general history relating to the Period of the Reformation," giving the titles in full, will be found in the History of the Reformation by Prof. Fisher. Those who may desire to pursue the study of this Era in any particular direction beyond the limit' indicated above, will find all neces.^ry aid in the list uamed. INDEX. CAM ADRIAN VI., 154, 155, 179, 206 Aleander, Papal nuncio, 105, log, 118, 130 Alexander VI., 24, 26, 37, 73, 78,205 Alsace, see Elsass Alva, Duke of, 200 America, discovery of, 4 Anne of Cleves, 194 Armada, the Spanish, 200, 215 Arthur, Prince of Wales, 54, 173 Avtrology, 229 Augsburg confession, 169 Augsburg, peace of, 171 Augustine, bt., theology of, 98, 99, 106 BAMBERG, bishop of, 230 Bavaria, rising of peasants in, 149 Berlichingen, see Gotz v Berne revolts from Rome, 165 Biole, English version of, 185, 192, 221 ; German, 135, 221 ; French, 221 Boheim, Hans, 62 Boleyn, Anne, 180, 184 ; marriage of, 184 ; beheaded, 193 Borgia, Csesar, 24, 26, 73, 75 Bosworth, battle of, 52 Bouibon, Duke of, 155, 157, 179 Buckingham, execution of, 176 B.mdschuh, the, 63, 115, 117, 128, 138, 144 CABOT, Sebastian, 4, 56 Calvin, John, 202,205; influ- ence of writings of, 221 Cambray, league of, 131 DEN Campeggio, 180 Capets, dynasty of the, 42 Cappel, peace of, 165 Caraffa, cardinal, 212 Carinthia, rising of the peasantry in, 149, 151 Carlstadt, 136, 137, 141, 142, 145, 146 Casimir, Markgraf, 146, 148 Catherine of Arragon, 54, 90, 132, 173 ^74) '75> 176, 180; death of, 193. Catherine de Medici, 217 Celibacy of the clergy, influence of, 223 Charles V., 30, 39, 103, 113-135, 154, 155, 166-171, 175, 179, 180, 195, 196, 200, 213 Charles VIII. of France, 26, 37, 46, 73 Christian II., 199 Christian Prince, of Erasmus, 93, 100 Civilization, character of modern, 5 Clement VII., 155, 160, 179, 206 Colet, John, 78-97, loi, 183, 190, 22a 229 Columbus, 4, 37, 41, 56 Commerce, 3, 18, 21, 233-237 Contarini, Gasper, 207, 208 Contarini, the your.ger, 212 Copernicus, Nicolas, 232 Cranach, Lucas, 119, 120 Crammer, 184, 193, 197 Criminal law, cruelty of, 230 Cromwell, Oliver, 204 Cromwell, Thomas, 191-103 Crusades, the influence of, 3, 17 DANTE, 23 Denmark, revolt of, from Rom^ 199-200 247 248 Index. GRO Diets, German, 30 {sec Worms, Spires, Ratisbon) Dudley (minister of Henry VII.) 82- EDWARD VI., 194 Elizabeth, princess (afterwards queen), 193 Elsass, rising of peasants in. 63. 149 Empson (minister of Hen'-y V II.), 1:3, 84 England under Henry VII., 48-57 76-84 ; under Henry VIII., 84-92 132-133. 155-156, 171-198 Erasmus, 81-85, 9 !> i°o, 101 • 103, 104, 110, 113, 134,^ 153, 177-178, 190, 207, 226, 229 ' FERDINAND and Isabella, 4, 27, 36,37. 88-91, 104, J 74 Feudinand I. of Austria, 170 Fc'idal systeiji, 16, 20, 29, 31, 233-237 (see Serfdom) Ficino, 70, 75, 77, 229 Field of the cloth of gold, 133 Fisher, Liishop, sent to the Tower, 187, 207 Flodden, battle of, 90 F'lorence, 26, 6S-76 Forest cantons of Switzerland, 165 France, 41-48, 88-92, 132-135, 154- 157, 169-196, 216-217 Francis I., 28,91, loi, 103, 132, 133, 154-157, 208, 216 Franconia, rebellion of peasants in, 62, 145 Franz von Sickingen, 31, 113-115, iiS, 128, 129, 138-140 Frederic of Saxony, loi, 102-135, 138 Frundsberg, General, 125, 151, 155, 157 GALILEO, 233 Genevan reformers, the, 201— 214 Germany 27-35, 59-68, 97-154, i66- 171, 220 Geyer, Florian, 143, 148 Gold mines of new world, effect of discovery of, 234 Gonsalve de Cordova, 27 Gijtz von Eerlichingen, 31, 113, 149 Granada, conquest of, 4, 36 Graubund, the, 63 Grocyn, 8i LUT Grotius, Hugo, 220 Guicciaidini, 24 Gustavus Adolphus, 199 Gustavus Vasa, 199 H ANSF. Towns, 18,32 Helfen.>tein, Count TOn, 143, 145 Henrv VIL, 52-57, 83-84, 173-1/4 Henry /HI., 27, 28, 44, 82-92, 100- 104, 132-133, 154 172-199, 220 Heresy, 185-186, 225 Hermann, 162 Hesse, Philip of, 170 Hipler, Wendel, 143 Holy Alliance, the, 88 Howard, Admiral, 90 Howard. Caiherine, 195 Huguenots, the, 204-205, 217 Humanists 71, 77, 206 Huss, John, 14, 62, 106, iig, 12^, 127 Hutten, Ulrich von, 113-115, 118-123, 128-130, 138-140 TNDULGENCES, sale of, 100-103 JL Infanta of Portugal, 133, 156, 180 Innocent VIII., 73 ' Inquisition,' the, 39, 213, 215 Italian reformers, 201-208 Italy, 12-27 (-f''^ Rome and Popes) JEROME of Prague, 14 Jesuits, order of, 208-312, 222 Johanna of Castile, 38 Joss Fritz, 64-65, 117, 137-138 Julivis II., 27, 88-89, '74 KEMPTEN, peasants' rebellion in, 63 Kepler, 233 Knox, John, 204-205, 222 LAMBERT SIMNEL, 53 Leo X., 27, 89, 100-154, '7° 206 Lilly, 84, 87 Linacre, 81 Lollards. 15, 88, 178 Louis XL of France, 43 Louis XII., 27, 88, 91 Loyola, Ignatius, 208-212 Luther, Martin, 97-135, 152, 166, 167- 170, 177, 208, 221, 229, 230 Index. '49 POL MACHIAVELLI, 19,22, 25, 43, 46, 75, 163 Magellan, 227 Marignano, hattle of, 91, 132 Mary, princess, afrerw irds queen, 133. 156, 175. 176, 179, 196, 200 Maximilian, emperor, 19, 29, 38, 64, 89. 103 Medici, Cosmo de', 69, 70 Medici, Lorenzo de', 69, 70, 72, 155 Medici, Catherine de', 217 Melanchthon, Philip, 103, 109- J 11, 121, 136, 168-169,208, 230 Michael Angelo, 69 Milan. 26, 42, 132, 154 Mohammedan power, the, 2, 4, J5 168, 169 Monasteiies, dissolution of, 191 192 Moors, in Spain, 2, 4, 35 More, Sir Thomas, 82-97, 172, 176- 178, 186-1Q0, 226, 229 Morgarten, battle of, 61 Morton, Cardinal, 55, 183, 205 Miinzer, 136, 141, 142, 150 NANTES, edict of, 217 Naples, 26, 42, 132 Netherlands, revolt of from Rome, 200, 201 New Testament of Erasmus, 94, 185, 190 ; of Tindal, see Tindal OXFORD Reformers, 76-97, 176 177, igo, 225, (see Colet, Eras- mus, More) PARR, Queen Catherine, 195 Pavia, battle of, 155, 179 Paul IIL, 207, 208, 213 Paul IV., 213 Peasants' war, 140, 152, 177 Peasantry, condition of in England, 50, 233-237 ; in France, 45 and 235, ' 237 ; in Germany, see Serfdom Perkin Warbeck, 53 Petrarch, 23 Philip de Commines, 45 Philip IL of Spain, 38, 170, 196,201 214 Pico della Mirando'a, 70, 9 72, 229 Pilgrimage of Grace, 193 Pilgrim fathers, 222, 204-205 Pole, Reginald, 194, 206, 212 Politian, 70 SWl Popes of Rome, 24-27, 206, and set Innocent VIII., Alexander VI., luhus II., Leo X., Adrian VI., Paul III., Paul IV. ' Praise of Folly ' of Erasmus, 85, loi, 113, 191 ' Prince, The,' of Machiavelli, 76 Printing, invention of, 4 Protestants, origin of name of, 168 Puritans, the, 204, 217, 226 \ RATISBON, Diet of, 169, 208 Revival of learning, 3, 68, 78 Revolts from Rome- in England, 171-198 — in Germany, 166 170 — in Switzerland. 163-166 — in Denmark and Sweden, 199 — in the Netherlands, 200 Richard III., 52-53 Rohrbach, little Jack, 144 Roman Catholic Church, 8 Romon civiliza'ion, 6 Rome, 8, 22-27 '• sack of, 154-156 Roper, Margaret, 187 Kothenburg, peasants' war at, i46-< 149 SICKINGEN, see Franz St. Bartholomew, massacre of, 217 St. Paul's school, founded by Colet, 86 Savonarola Girolamo, 72-75, 78, 121, 222 Saxony. John of, 167, i6g Schmalkalden, league of, 169, 170 Scientific inquiry, beginnings tf, 23.- Scientific knowledge. 227 Scholastic system, the, 12-16, 77 Serfdom in Germany, 20, 33-4, 58-6^ 1 40- '53, 231 Serfdom in France, 20, 45-47, 234 Serfdom in England, 20, 234-236 Servetus, 203, 226 Slavery and sla\e trade, 41 Spain, 35-41, Z14-215, and see Charles ^ V Spalatin, 109, no, 115, 122, 123 Spires, I'iets of, 156, 157, 167 168 Spurs, battle of the, 90 Storch, Claus, 136, 137, 142 Swabi.-j, insurrection of peasants in, 141-143 Swabian league, the, 66, 141-143 Sweden, revolt from Rome of, 199-201 Switzerland, 61, 163 «5o Index. VAL TETZEL, :o2 Thirty Years' War, 167, 171, 200, 216 Thuringia, insurrection of peasants in, 150 Tindall, William, 185, 193, 222 Trent, Council of, 208, 212-214 Truchsess, George, 143, 145,151 Tycho Brahe, 233 Tyrol, rising of peasants in the. 151- 152 ULRICH VON HUTTEN, see Hutten Ulrich, D., of Wu temberg, 65 United Provinces, th ■, 201 Universe, ideas of the, 228 Universities, 14 Universitiea of England visited and reformed, 192 Uiopia, More's, 94, 96, 100, 172, 185 226 VALDEZ,JUANDE,6o 157.206 Valdez Alphonse de, secretary of Charles v., 131 ZWI Vasco de Gama, 4 Venice, 25 Vienna besieged by the Turks, i68 VIT'ARTEURG, castle of the, isc^ Weinsburg, the piper of, 143-146 Wiclif, 14, 62, 106 Witchcraft, beliefin, 230 Wi tenbeig Reformers {see Vuther and Melanchthon) Wolsey, 89, 92, 154, 155, 178-184, 197, 205 Worms, Diet of, 115-135, 156, i6y, 169, 170, 172 XAVIER, FRANCIS, 210 Ximenes, cardinal, 39, 154, 205 ZURICH revolts f-om Rome, 165 Zwickau, prophets of, 136- 137 Zwingle, Uirich, 164-165, 202 V 4098 : 'I UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 001 265 221 o