Luther, vol. 2 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

5. How the New Church System was Introduced

A complete account of the introduction of the new ecclesiastical system will become possible only when impartial research has made known to us more fully than hitherto the proceedings in the different localities according to the records still extant.

Some districts were thrown open to the new Evangel without any difficulty because the inhabitants, or people of influence, believed they would thus be bringing about a reformation in the true sense of the word, i.e. be contributing to the removal of ecclesiastical abuses deplored by themselves and by all men of discernment.

In the opinion of many, to quote words written by Döllinger when yet a Catholic, “there was on the one side a large body of prelates, ecclesiastical dignitaries and beneficiaries who, too well-provided with worldly goods, lived carelessly, troubling themselves little about the distress and decay of the Church, and even looking with complacent indolence at the stormy attacks directed against her; on the other side stood a simple Augustinian monk, who neither possessed nor sought for what those men either enjoyed in plenty or were striving to obtain, but who, for that very reason, was able to wield weapons not at their command; to fight with spirit, irresistible eloquence and theological knowledge, with invincible self-confidence, steadfast courage, enthusiasm, yea, with the energy of a will called to dominate the minds of men and gifted with untiring powers for work. Germany was at that time still virgin soil; journalism was yet unknown; little, and that of no great importance, had as yet been written on subjects of public and general interest. Higher questions which might otherwise have engrossed people’s minds were not then mooted, thus people were all the more open to religious excitement, while at the same time the nation, as yet unaccustomed to pompous declamation and exaggerated rhetoric, was all the more ready to believe every word which fell from the lips of a man who, as priest and professor of theology at one of the Universities, had, at the peril of his life, raised the most terrible charges against the Church, charges too which on the whole met with comparatively little contradiction. His accusations, his appeals to a consoling doctrine, hitherto maliciously repressed and kept under a bushel, he proclaimed in the most forcible of language, ever appealing to Christ and the gospel, and ever using figures from the Apocalypse to rate the Papacy and the state of the Church in general, figures which could not fail to fire the imagination of his readers. Luther’s popular tracts, which discussed for the first time the ecclesiastical system as a whole, with all its defects, were on the one hand couched in biblical phraseology and full of quotations and ideas from Holy Scripture, while at the same time they were the work of a demagogue, well aware of the object in view, and perfectly alive to the weaknesses of the national character. His writings could equally well be discussed in the tap-rooms and market-places of the cities or preached from the pulpits. Even more efficacious than the methods employed in propagating it were the motives embodied in the system itself; the doctrines—brought before the people in so many sermons, hymns and tracts—on justification without any preparation, by the mere imputation of the sufferings and merits of Christ, were sweet, consoling and welcome.... Then there was the new Christian freedom ... the abolition of the obligation to confess, to fast, etc. ‘Oh, what a grand doctrine that was,’ Wicel wrote at a later date, ‘not to be obliged to confess any more, nor to pray, nor to fast, nor to make offerings or give alms.... You ought surely to have been able to catch two German lands, not one only, with such bait, and to have dragged them into your net. For if you give a man his own way, it is easy to convert him.’”[929]

Altenburg, Lichtenberg, Schwarzburg, Eilenburg

When the first preacher of the Lutheran faith at Altenburg in the Saxon Electorate, Gabriel Zwilling, a former comrade of Carlstadt’s, began to behave in too violent and arrogant a manner, Luther, out of consideration for his sovereign, admonished him to “lay aside all presumption” and to “leave God to do everything.” “You must not press for innovations, but, as I besought you once before, free consciences by means of the Word alone, and by exhorting to pure faith and charity.... I gave my word to the Prince that you would do this, so don’t act otherwise and bring shame on me, upon yourself and the Evangel. You see the people running after external things, sacraments and ceremonies; this you must oppose and make an end of; see that you lead them first to faith and charity in order that by their fruits they may show themselves to be a branch of our Vine.”[930]

As, however, the gentle methods which Luther had promised his Elector to employ did not appear to suffice, recourse was had to force. The town-council, with the support of the inhabitants of Wittenberg, boldly threw law and custom overboard.

Prejudiced in favour of Luther, they had invited him to visit Altenburg and to preach there, and he had agreed. On that occasion Luther had recommended Gabriel Zwilling to the magistracy as resident preacher, in spite of the Anabaptist tendencies he had already shown. The Canons, who were faithful to the Church and who for centuries had the gift of the livings, opposed the appointment of Zwilling to one of the parishes. Thereupon the town-council, in a complaint composed by Luther himself, declared that, as the natural and duly appointed senate of the congregation, it had the right to decide; that the councillors were, by virtue of their office, not merely responsible for the secular government, but also were bound by the duty of “fraternal Christian charity” to interfere on behalf of the Evangel. The council, or rather Luther, also pointed out, that according to Matthew vii. every man has the right to drive away ravening wolves, that the Canons with the Provost at their head were indeed such, not having scrupled to appropriate the revenues, whilst all the while teaching false doctrine; “Scripture does not give power to a ‘Concilium,’ but to each individual Christian to judge of doctrine, to detect the wolves and to avoid them.... Each one must believe for himself and be able to distinguish between true and false doctrine.”[931] Luther here at one and the same time, because it happens to serve his purpose, advocates an extravagant religious freedom, manifestly inconsistent with any religious commonwealth, and yet denies the unfortunate Canons any liberty whatsoever: “They must either hold their tongues or teach the pure Evangel”—or else depart elsewhere.

Luther supported the manifesto in a letter addressed to the Elector in which he declares, that, “God Himself has abrogated all authority and power where it opposes the gospel,”[932] though he does not say who is to decide whether anyone may quote the gospel in his own favour, and what is to be done if the authorities themselves assume the right of “deciding in matters of doctrine.”

The Provost of the Canons, in the matter of the appointment, represented the lawful authority. To the demand of the councillors he replied by asking what they would say were he to appoint a new burgomaster at Altenburg; yet they had as little right to introduce a preacher as he would have to interfere in their affairs; further, it was not his duty to stand by and see his collegiate establishment deprived of any of its chartered rights.[933]

The decision came at last before the Elector. He refused to confirm the appointment of Zwilling in his office of preacher, as his turbulent Anabaptist views did not inspire confidence. In the summer of 1522, however, he bestowed the appointment on Wenceslaus Link, one of Luther’s friends, without paying any attention to the Canons and obviously acting on Luther’s advice. Link, in February, 1523, resigned the office of Vicar-General of the Augustinian Congregation, and soon after was married by Luther himself at Altenburg. The Canons protested in vain against the compulsion exercised.

In the spring, 1524, Link succeeded in inducing the council of Altenburg to prohibit the Franciscans from celebrating Mass in public, preaching and hearing confessions. The council vindicated its action in a document—probably composed by Link—addressed to the Elector, in which from the Old and New Testament it is shown that rulers must not tolerate “idolatry.”[934] When Spalatin, after resigning his post as Court Chaplain, became parish priest of Altenburg, he at once set about suppressing the Catholic worship even in the Collegiate Church of the town. A demand for the suppression of the “idolatrous worship” at Altenburg, which Luther had addressed to the Elector on July 20, 1525,[935] was followed by another composed by Spalatin in October of the same year.[936] Both were full of attacks on the un-Christian, blasphemous mischief to which an end ought to be put. On January 10, 1526, a fresh document of a similar nature, written by Spalatin and two Altenburg preachers, was forwarded to the Elector. There we read that the sovereign, if he wishes to escape the severe chastisements of God, must follow the example of the pious Jewish kings, who rooted out the abomination of idolatry. Owing to the continuance of the service in the Collegiate Church at Altenburg, the weak were exposed to spiritual danger, and he must furthermore consider that “many a poor man would readily come over to the Evangel if this miserable business were made an end of.” The utmost that could be permitted was, that the Canons should perform “their ceremonies in the most private fashion, with locked doors, no one else being admitted.”[937]

This petition was at once based by Luther on the general theological principles referred to above, i.e. the statement he had addressed to the Elector, declaring that, owing to the value of the Evangel, no place must be allowed in the Electorate for the practice of any religion other than the “evangelical”: Let there be but one doctrine in every place! Luther adds, that the Canons of Altenburg had indeed alleged their conscience, but that this was not a true conscience but merely a fictitious one, otherwise they would have agreed “to allow their conscience to be formed and instructed from Scripture.” This they had refused to do, and had appealed instead to traditional usage “as vouched for by the Church,” “thereby giving ample proof that their plea concerning their conscience was an invention and only brought forward for the sake of preserving appearances; for a true conscience desires nothing so ardently as to be instructed from Scripture.” If they wished to continue publicly to blaspheme the true God by their worship, they must “prove from Scripture their right and authorisation to do so.”[938] The Canons were convinced that there was no need for them to prove to Luther their right from the Bible, and also that the best proof would be of no avail. The decision on the validity of any such proof lay in the last instance with the Electoral Court, and he would indeed have been blind who could have expected in that quarter any judgment differing from Luther’s.

Recourse was accordingly taken to force, and the Catholic religion was obliged to retire from its last foothold. Nevertheless, a large number of the burghers of Altenburg remained secretly faithful to the Church of their fathers. When, in 1528, the Lutheran visitors held an enquiry there, the town-councillors, who themselves were on the side of Luther, declared there were still “many Papists” in the town.[939]

Lichtenberg, in the Saxon Electorate, affords an example of how Catholic ecclesiastics themselves promoted the falling away of their flock by being the first to join the party of the innovators, sometimes merely in order to be able to marry. As soon as Luther had heard that Wolfgang Reissenbusch, the clerical preceptor and administrator of the property belonging to the Antonines, was showing signs of a desire for matrimony, by means of the seductive letter of March 27, 1525, already quoted above,[940] he invited him to carry out his project boldly. After his marriage, and notwithstanding the fact of his broken vow, the monk not only retained his spiritual office, but even continued to administer the temporalities of his Order, in defiance of all justice. According to the custom now introduced, the property was placed at the disposal of the Elector. Reissenbusch enjoyed the favour of the Court, and in due course became one of the councillors of the Elector; his district was gradually won over to Lutheranism.

Count Johann Heinrich of Schwarzburg, son of Count Günther one of Luther’s enemies, wished to see the new church system introduced in his domains, but met with the resistance of the monks to whom his father, legally and in due form, had entrusted the livings. He accordingly approached Luther with the question whether he might deprive them of the livings, rights and property.

Luther soon came to a decision, replied in the affirmative and proceeded to explain to his questioner how he might quiet his conscience.[941] The Count’s father had made the transfer on the condition that the monks should: “Keep their observance and above all preach the Gospel.” Upon taking over the cure of souls they had assumed the usual obligation of preaching the Catholic faith. Now, he continues, it is only necessary that the Count should summon them before him, and in the presence of witnesses prove from their replies that they had not preached the Gospel (i.e. not according to Luther); thereupon he would have the “right and the power, indeed it would be his duty, to take the livings away from them ... for it is not unjust, but an urgent duty, to drive away the wolf from the sheepfold.... No preacher receives property and emoluments for doing harm, but in order that he may make men pious. If, therefore, he does not make them pious, the goods are no longer his. Such is my brief answer.” This was indeed the principle which he applied throughout the Saxon Electorate. The result of its application to the bishoprics of Germany and to the great ecclesiastical domains in the Empire was to overthrow the very foundation of the law of property. If the bishop, abbot or provost no longer succeeds in making people pious, “then the property no longer belongs to him.”

Johann Heinrich of Schwarzburg at once seized upon the property and rights which his father had made over by charter to the Catholic Church. The monks were ousted, the livings seized, the new teaching was introduced and the Count became the founder of Lutheranism in Schwarzburg.

In Eilenburg Luther proceeded through the agency at once of his sovereign and the town-councillors, who were no less zealous than the Prince himself in their efforts to extend their sphere of influence. Luther himself had already worked there in person for his cause. On the occasion of his second stay at Eilenburg he found the councillors somewhat lacking in zeal. Those who favoured the innovations were, however, of opinion that if the Elector were to invite them to apply for a preacher, they would do so. There is no doubt that the Catholic consciences of the councillors were still troubled with scruples, and that the demand of a number of the new believers among the people had as yet failed to move them.

Luther accordingly wrote from Eilenburg to the Court Chaplain, Spalatin, asking him to employ his influence with the Elector in the usual way. He was to obtain from the latter a letter addressed to the town-councillors begging them to “yield to the poor people in this so essential and sacred a matter,” and to summon one of the two preachers whom he at once proposed. The reason he gives in these words: “It is the duty of the sovereign, as ruler and brother Christian, to drive away the wolves and to be solicitous for the welfare of his people.”[942] The change of religion was thereupon actually carried out, under the Elector’s pressure, in true bureaucratic fashion as a matter appertaining to the magistracy. One of the two preachers proposed, Andreas Kauxdorf of Torgau, arrived shortly after, having been dutifully accepted by the councillors. He was permitted to Lutheranise the people, however reluctant and faithful to the Church they might be. He remained there from 1522 to 1543, in which year he died.

General Phenomena accompanying the Religions Change

It not infrequently happened that the people were deceived by faithless and apostate clerics who became preachers of the new religion, and were drawn away from the olden faith without being clearly aware of the fact. After having become gradually and most insensibly accustomed to the new faith and worship, not even the bravest had, as a rule, the strength to draw back. The want of religious instruction among the people was here greatly to blame, likewise the lack of organised ecclesiastical resistance to the error, and also, the indolence of the episcopate.

Mass still continued to be said in many places where Lutheranism had taken root, though in an altered form, a fact which contributed to the deception. One of the chief of Luther’s aims was to combat the Mass as a sacrifice.

He expressed this quite openly to Henry VIII in 1522: “If I succeed in doing away with the Mass, then I shall believe I have completely conquered the Pope. On the Mass, as on a rock, the whole of the Papacy is based, with its monasteries, bishoprics, colleges, altars, services and doctrines.... If the sacrilegious and cursed custom of Mass is overthrown, then the whole must fall. Through me Christ has begun to reveal the abomination standing in the Holy Place (Dan. ix. 27), and to destroy him [the Papal Antichrist] who has taken up his seat there with the devil’s help, with false miracles and deceiving signs.”[943] In respect of the deception of the Mass, “I oppose all the pronouncements of the Fathers, of men, of angels, of devils, not by an appeal to ‘ancient custom and tradition’ nor to any man, but to the Word of the Eternal Majesty and to the Gospel which even my adversaries are forced to acknowledge.” “This is God’s Word,” he vehemently exclaims of his denial of the sacrifice, “not ours. Here I stand, here I take my seat, here I stay, here I triumph and laugh to scorn all Papists, Thomists, Henryists, sophists, and all the gates of hell, not to speak of all the sayings of men, and the most sacred and deceitful of customs.”[944]

It was of the utmost importance to him that the Mass should no longer be regarded as a sacrifice and as the centre of worship. He wished to reduce it to a mere “sign and Divine Testament in which God promises us His Grace and assures us of it by a sign.”[945] Nor is the presence of Christ in the sacrament, according to him, to be assumed as the result of a change of substance; Christ is in, with, and beneath the bread. The churches were robbed of their Divine Guest, for only in the actual ceremony of reception was the Supper a sacrament, at all other times it was nothing.[946]

Yet, in spite of all this, as already pointed out, Luther did not wish to abolish every form of liturgical celebration at once. In the reconstruction of public worship everything depended on not making the change felt by the people in a way that was displeasing to them. The very fact of the change was concealed from many by the form of liturgy Luther advocated,[947] and by the retaining of the ceremonies, vestments, lights, etc. Even the elevation was continued for a long while. But, though the celebration was clothed in a Catholic garb, yet of everything that expressed in words the sacrificial character Luther had already said that it “must and shall be done away with.”[948]

“The priest,” says Luther thoughtfully, when giving detailed instructions on the subject, “will easily be able to arrange that the common people learn nothing of it, and take no scandal.”[949] “How the priests are to behave with regard to the Canon,” he wrote in his Instruction for the Visitors in the Saxon Electorate, “they know well from other writings, and there is no need to preach much about this to the laity.” One would have thought, nevertheless, that the “common people,” no less than the learned, had a perfect right to the truth and to being instructed.

Luther was also anxious that the innovation at communion should be introduced in an unobtrusive manner. “Avoid anything unusual or any attempt to oppose the masses.”[950]

Although to receive under both kinds was regarded as the only “evangelical” way, agreeable “to Christ’s institution,” yet the weak were to be permitted to receive under the form of bread only and the reception of the chalice not to be prescribed “until we make the Evangel better known throughout the world.”[951] “But if anyone is so weak in this matter as rather to omit receiving the Sacrament altogether than to receive under one kind only, he was also to be indulged and allowed to live according to his conscience.”[952] In justification of all this Luther declared that the practice of the new religion must be introduced gently and “without detriment to charity.” That it was really a question of preventing disturbances and preserving charity, Cochlæus and others could not be made to see; this writer, in his work on Lutheranism, goes so far as to speak of Luther’s “hypocritical deception” of the masses.

Later, the advocate of this sagacious method of procedure could declare: “Thank God, in indifferent matters our churches are so arranged that a layman, whether Italian or Spaniard, unable to understand our preaching, seeing our Mass, choir, organs, bells, chantries, etc., would surely say that it was a regular papist church, and that there was no difference, or very little, between it and his own.” He rejoiced that, in spite of the hot-heads, no more had been altered in the ritual than was absolutely necessary to conform it to his teaching.[953]

Such is the course to pursue, he says, “If our churches are not to be shattered and confused and nothing to be effected among the Papists.”[954] As a matter of fact, the system he recommended did in some districts “effect much” among Papists who would otherwise have refused to have anything to do with him, the poor people not dreaming of the wide gulf which separated the new worship from the old. The people would not voluntarily have given up their faith in the truly sacrificial character of the Eucharist, in transubstantiation and sacrifice generally; as Melanchthon himself admitted: “The world is so much attached to the Mass that it seems well-nigh impossible to wrest people from it.”[955]

We may here mention what occurred at a later date within the Lutheran fold. At the instigation of Wittenberg the adaptation of the Catholic worship was carried out very thoroughly in some places, the principle proving highly conducive to the acceptance of the new church system. In few countries, however, was this the case to such an extent as in Denmark, where Luther’s friend Bugenhagen was responsible for the change of religion. Even to-day, in the Protestant worship established in Denmark, Norway and the duchies formerly united to the Danish crown, there is to be found a surprising number of Catholic reminiscences, from the solemn Eucharistic service down to the ringing of the bells thrice daily for prayer. In the celebration of the solemn Eucharist the preachers even vest in a white linen alb and chasuble of red velvet; the elevation, too, is still preserved, for, after the “consecration,” which is pronounced from the middle of the altar according to immemorial custom, the Bread and Wine are shown to the people.

Martin Weier, a young student of good family from Pomerania, took counsel of Luther as to how, on his return from Wittenberg, he was to behave with regard to his old father in the matter of Divine worship. Luther, according to his own account, told him “to conform to his father’s wishes in every way in order not to offend him; follow his example concerning fasting, prayer, hearing Mass and the veneration of the Saints, but at the same time instruct him in the Word of God and on the subject of justification, so as, if possible, to become his spiritual father without giving any offence.” Luther had declared concerning himself that he had offended God most horribly by his former celebration of Mass, more so than if he had been “a highwayman or kept a brothel”; yet he tells his aristocratic pupil that he will be committing no sin, if, “for the sake of his father, he is present at Mass and other acts by which God is dishonoured.”[956]

A contrast to this system of accommodation and the gentle introduction of innovations is presented by the acts of violence which too often occurred on German soil at the time of the religious revolution. The excesses perpetrated by the people were, as can be proved, encouraged by the inflammatory speeches of the preachers, Luther’s own words being frequently appealed to; their effect in such times of popular commotion was like that of oil poured on the flames. In “the streets and at every corner,” on all the walls, on placards, in broadsides, and even on playing cards the clergy and the monks were abused, to quote Luther’s own testimony.[957] “Turks” and “worse than Turks,” such were the descriptions applied to them by the populace in imitation of Luther. “We shall never be successful against the Turks,” he says later, reverting to his earlier style of language, “unless we fall upon them and the priests at the right moment and smite them dead.”[958]

In the case of Luther himself such expressions were empty words, but the mob scrupled little about carrying them into effect. In many instances, however, lust for riches on the part of the great, who longed to possess themselves of Church property, and the long-standing antagonism of towns and Princes to the rights claimed by bishops and abbots, led to violence. The exaltation of their own power was for many of the authorities their principal reason for taking sides against the older Church. It must be borne in mind that, subsequent to 1525, Luther himself was no longer the sole head of the movement of apostasy. More and more he began to hand over the actual guidance of the movement to the secular power, a condition of things which had been preparing since the Diet of Worms. The direction of so far-reaching an undertaking was scarcely suited to his talents, which were not of the administrative order. To his followers, however, he remained the chief authority as pastor, preacher and writer; he continued to take an active part in all public affairs, and, on many occasions, exercised a direct and profound influence on the spread of the new Church.

Many well-meaning and highly respected men supported the new establishment from no selfish motives, and became open and genuine promoters of Luther’s cause, because they looked upon it as just and true. The ideal character, which Wittenberg was successful in stamping on Luther’s aims, proved very seductive, especially in the then prevailing ignorance of the real state of things, and in many places won for the cause devoted and enthusiastic workers.

To take but one example: A knight, Hartmuth (Hartmann) von Cronberg, in the Taunus, glowing with zeal for the new Evangel, wrote a letter recommending the Lutheran congregational system to the inhabitants of Cronberg and Frankfurt.

In 1522 he published a letter, addressed to Luther, in which he expresses his readiness to work faithfully with him in order that “all may awake from the sleep and prison of sin.” I have heard, with heartfelt sympathy”, he says to Luther, of “your great pains and crosses arising from the ardent charity you bear towards God and your neighbour, for I am thoroughly aware, from sad observation, of the misery and dreadful ruin of the whole German nation.” “It is no wonder that a true Christian should tremble in every limb with horror when he considers the desolation and how awful the fall of Germany must be unless a Merciful God enlightens us by His Grace so that we may come to the knowledge of Him.” “Fain would I speak to the German lands and say: O Germany! rejoice in the visitation of your heavenly Father, accept with humble thanksgiving the heavenly light, the Divine Truth and the Supreme Condescension, avail yourself of the great clemency of God, Who of His Mercy is ready to forgive you your great sin.... Throw off the heavy yoke of the devil and accept the sweet yoke of Christ.” The writer beseeches God to grant “that we may not trust in ourselves or our works; rather do Thou justify us by a strong faith and confidence in Thee alone, and Thy Divine promises, in order that Thy Divine, Supreme Name, Grace and Clemency may be increased, praised and magnified throughout the world.”[959]

The same enthusiastic man of the sword had, even before this, expressed himself in favour of Luther in other writings in language almost fanatical. Luther, while at the Wartburg, had received two pamphlets from him, one addressed to the Emperor and the other to the Mendicant Orders. Luther had thanked him in similar tones for his zeal, and encouraged him to stand fast in spite of persecution.[960] The above-quoted letter, addressed by Cronberg to Luther, was his answer to Luther’s from the Wartburg; both were printed together and made the round of Germany under the title “A missive to all those who suffer persecution for the Word of God.”

Luther there says to his admirer: “It is plain that your words spring from the depths of your heart and soul,” and this testimony seemed no exaggeration in the eyes of many who were also working for the spread of Lutheranism with all their heart, and in the best of faith. Cronberg and all these were animated by the spirit which Luther by his writings had sought to instil into all, and which he had once expressed in his own powerful, defiant fashion: “And even should Satan attempt greater and worse things he shall not weary us; he may as well attempt to drag Christ down from the right hand of God. Christ sits there enthroned, and we too shall remain masters and lords over sin, death, the devil and every thing.”

The earnestness with which Cronberg espoused the Lutheran ideas is shown by the fact of his resigning, after the Diet of Worms, a yearly stipend of 200 gold gulden, promised him by the Emperor, when he entered his service with Sickingen in 1519.[961] The assistance he lent to Sickingen’s treacherous machinations against the Empire proved his undoing. His castle of Cronberg was seized on October 15, 1522. He sought to console himself for the loss of his property by a passionate devotion to his religious and political aims. After a life of “undismayed attachment to what he deemed his duty,” says H. Ulmann, this man, “whose fidelity to conviction verged on puritanism,” died at Cronberg on August 7, 1549.[962]

This Lutheran had demanded of the Emperor that he should convince the Pope by “irrefragable proofs” that he was the viceroy of the devil, nay, himself Antichrist. But should the Pope, owing to demoniacal possession, not admit this, then the Emperor had full right and authority and was bound before God to proceed against him by force, as against “an apostate, heretic and Antichrist.”[963] Some of his admirers, and likewise a eulogist of modern times, have extolled Hartmuth von Cronberg as a “Knight after God’s own heart.” His fanaticism, however, went so far that few dared to follow. The most unjust acts of violence, not merely against the Papal Antichrist, but also against church property which he declared everyone free to appropriate, were exalted by him to principles. In a circular-letter to Sickingen he wrote: “All ecclesiastical property has been declared free [i.e. ownerless] by God Himself, so that whoever by the grace of God can get some of it may keep it with God’s help, and no creature whether Pope or devil can harm such property.” He warns the Frankfurt priest, Peter Meyer, in a printed letter, that unless he is converted to the “Evangel” any man may, with a good conscience, take action against him, “just as it is lawful to fall upon a ravening wolf, a sacrilegious thief and murderer, with word and deed.”[964]

Wittenberg. The Saxon Electorate

The abolition of the last remnants of Catholic worship in Wittenberg was characterised by violence and utter want of consideration.

Only in the Collegiate Church, which was ruled by Provost and Chapter, had it been possible to continue the celebration of Mass. On April 26, 1522, at the instance of Luther, the Elector Frederick determined that the solemn exposition of the rich treasury of relics belonging to the Church should be discontinued, in spite of the fact that the relics were in great part his own gift to a Church which had enjoyed his especial favour. Luther, however, was anxious completely to transform this “Bethaven,” this place of idolatry, as he called the Church,[965] and in this matter the Prior and some of the Canons were on his side.

After some unsuccessful negotiations, carried on with the Elector through Spalatin, Luther himself invited the Chapter, on March 1, 1523, to abolish all Catholic ceremonies, as abominations, which could only give scandal at Wittenberg. “The cause of the ‘Evangel,’ which Christ has committed to this city as a priceless gift,” forced him, so he declared, to speak. “My conscience can no longer keep silence owing to the office entrusted to me.” If they would not give way peaceably, then they must be prepared for “public insults” from him, seeing that they would have to be excluded from the congregation as non-Christians, and have their company shunned.[966]

The Dean, who was faithful to the Church, and the Catholic members of the Chapter persisted in their resistance, urging that the Elector himself did not wish to see the Masses discontinued which his ancestors had founded for the repose of their souls.

Luther, not in the least disconcerted, on July 11, 1523, repeated his written declaration, this time in a peremptory tone. “If we endure this any longer,” he writes, “it will fall upon our own heads and we shall be burdened with the sins of others.” The Canons were not to tell him that “the Elector commanded or did not command to do this or to alter that. I am speaking now to your own consciences. What has the Elector to do with such matters?” he asks, strangely contradicting his own theory. “You know what St. Peter says, Acts v. 29, ‘We ought to obey God rather than men,’ and St. Paul (Gal. i. 8), ‘Though an angel from heaven preach a gospel to you besides that which we have preached to you, let him be anathema.’” He summons them to “obey,” otherwise he will pray against them as he has hitherto prayed for them, and as Christ was “jealous” it might be that his “prayer would be powerful and you may have to suffer for it.” “Christ soon punishes those who are His, when they wax disobedient (cp. 1 Peter iv. 17).”[967]

His violence in the pulpit gave reason for anticipating the worst when, on the very next day, he gave free rein to his eloquence against the Collegiate Church.

On August 2, 1523, he again stirred up the excited mob against the Canons and their service.[968]

He spoke to the multitude on that day of independent action to be taken by all who were able, without the Elector and even against him: “What does he matter to us?” he cried. “He commands only in worldly matters. But if he attempts to act further, we [i.e. Luther and the people] shall say: “Your Grace, pray look after your own business.”[969] It was an unequivocal invitation to make use of force when he told the people in the same sermon, that they also would be “responsible for the sins of others” if they permitted the Popish disorder any longer in their midst. “I am afraid that this may also be the reason why the Evangel effects so little amongst us, viz. that we suffer such things to be.”[970] Yet he was careful prudently to admonish the people not to touch the Canons’ persons.

This admonition seems to have been more than counterbalanced by the remaining contents of the discourse. After the sermon the Elector sent to remind Luther earnestly that, as a rule, he had spoken against risings and that he trusted he would “not go any further,” as there was quite enough “discontent at Wittenberg already.”[971] The offender in reply assured the Elector by messenger, that he would give the people no occasion for the employment of force, for discontent or tumult,[972] and, for the time being, he refrained from any further steps. Whether he calmed the populace, or how he did this, we are not told. We do know, however, that he addressed a fresh letter to the Canons couched in such strong language as to draw down on himself another reprimand from the Elector, who urged that Luther did not act up to what he preached.[973] In the letter in question, dated November 17, 1524, he told the Canons quite openly, that, unless they refrained voluntarily from “Masses, vigils and everything contrary to the Holy Evangel,” they would be forced to do so; he moreover asked for a “true, straight and immediate answer, yea or nay, before next Sunday”; what has happened is that “the devil has inspired you with a spirit of defiance and mischief.” The “great patience with which we have hitherto supported your devilish behaviour and the idolatry in your Churches” is exhausted. He also hints that they could no longer be certain of the Elector’s protection.[974]

Had he drawn the bow still tighter and incited to direct acts of violence, the results would have fallen on his own head. Yet a sermon which he delivered on November 27 against Mass at the Collegiate Church had such an effect upon the people, that the matter was decided. In it he asserted, that the Mass was blasphemy, madness and a lie; its celebration was worse than unchastity, murder or robbery; princes, burgomasters, councillors and judges must protect the honour of God, since they had received the sword from Him.[975] He exhorts “all princes and rulers, burgomasters, councillors and judges” to summon the “blasphemous ministers” of the “whore of Babylon” and force them to answer for themselves. His appeal is ostensibly for the interference of the responsible authorities, not of the masses.

The agitation intentionally fomented became, however, so great, that the Canons did not know what steps to take against the “rising excitement of the inhabitants” of Wittenberg,[976] for the saving of the Catholic services, and for the safety of their own persons. Even before this, students had perpetrated disorders at night in the Collegiate Church, and Luther had himself declared that he was obliged daily to restrain the people to prevent the committing of excesses. The Canons were now tormented by the singing of satires on the Mass outside their house, and had to listen to the curses which were showered on them. One night the Dean had his windows smashed. The Town Council, and also the University, now definitely took sides against the Chapter, and, after warning them in writing of God’s anger, sent representatives to advise the Canons of their excommunication. Although no actual tumult took place, yet the public declarations and the threatening attitude of the populace incited by Luther amounted to practical compulsion. The few Canons still remaining finally yielded to force, particularly when they saw that the Elector, Frederick “the Wise,” refused to give any but evasive replies to their appeals.

On Christmas Day, 1524, for the first time, there was no Mass.

Protestants themselves have recently admitted that, “contrary to the express wish of the sovereign and not without the employment of force against the Canons”[977] did “Luther succeed in carrying matters so far.”[978] “The Canons finally gave way before new outbursts of violence on the part of the students and the citizens,” when, according to Luther’s own account, there remained only “three hogs and paunches” of all the Canons formerly attached to this Church, not of “All Saints,” but rather of “All Devils.”[979]

An echo of his tempestuous sermon of November 27 is to be found in the pamphlet which Luther published at the commencement of 1525: “On the abomination of Silent Masses” (against the Canon of the Mass). In the Preface he refers directly to the inglorious proceedings against the unfortunate Chapter. He finds it necessary to declare that he, for his part, had aroused no revolt, for what was done by the established authorities could not be termed revolt; the “secular gentlemen,” who, according to him, constituted the established authorities, had, however, felt it their duty to take steps against the Catholic worship in the Collegiate Church.

In that same year, 1525, under the auspices of the new Elector Johann, a great friend to Lutheranism, who succeeded the Elector Frederick upon his death on May 5, 1525, and whom Luther had long before won over to his cause, the order of Divine Service at Wittenberg was entirely altered. “The Pope” was at last, as Spalatin joyfully proclaimed throughout the city, “completely set aside.”[980]

Under the rule of the Elector Johann, Luther at once carried out the complete suppression of Catholic worship throughout the Electorate.

On October 1, 1525, Spalatin wrote to the Elector Johann: “Dr. Martin also says, that your Electoral Grace is on no account to permit anyone to continue the anti-Christian ceremonies any longer, or to start them again.”[981]

With the object of helping him in his work at Court and of removing any scruples he might have, Luther explained to Spalatin, in a letter of November 11 of the same year, that by stamping out the Catholic worship rulers would not be forcing the faith on anyone, but merely prohibiting such open abominations as the Mass; if anyone, in spite of all, desired to believe in it privately, or to blaspheme in secret, no coercion would be exercised.[982] No attention was paid to the rights of Catholics to a Divine Worship, attendance at which was to them a matter of conscience. They were simply to be permitted to emigrate; if they chose to remain they were not to “perform or take any part in any public worship.”[983] It was on such principles as these that the Memorandum which Spalatin presented to the Elector on January 10, 1526, was based.[984]

Luther himself appealed to the Elector on February 9, 1526, seeking to “fortify his conscience” and to encourage him “to attack the idolaters with even greater readiness.” He points out to him, first, how damnable is the blasphemous, idolatrous worship; were he to afford it any protection, then “all the abominations against God would eventually weigh upon his, the Prince’s, conscience”; secondly, that differences in religious worship would inevitably give rise to “revolt and tumults”; hence the ruler must provide that “in each locality there be but one doctrine.”[985]

To the force of such arguments Johann could not but yield.

He answered in a friendly letter to Luther on February 13, 1526, that he had been pleased to take note of the difficulty, and would for the future know how to comport himself in these matters in a Christian and irreproachable manner.[986] Subsequent to this assurance he acted as an apt pupil of the Wittenberg Professor.

In accordance with the instructions given by the Elector in 1527 for the general Visitation of the Churches in the Saxon Electorate, an “inquisition” was to be held everywhere by the ecclesiastical Visitors as to whether any “sect or schism” existed in the country. Whoever was “suspected of error in respect of the sacraments or some doctrine of faith” was to be “summoned and interrogated, and, if the occasion required, hostile witnesses were to be heard”; if any refused to give up their “error,” they were commanded to sell their possessions within a given time and to quit the country.[987] One thing only was still wanting, viz. that the people should be compelled by the Ruler to attend the Lutheran sermons and services. Even this was, however, implied in the regulations, since those who did not attend were classed among the “suspects.” As time went on Luther demanded the exercise of such coercion, and it was actually introduced in the Electorate and, later, in the Protestant Duchy of Saxony.[988]

The proceedings on the introduction of the innovations in other districts were similar to those in the Electorate of Saxony. Wherever a small group of persons were willing to throw in their lot with the first local representatives of the new faith—generally clerics—they were backed up by the State authorities, who reconstructed the religious system as they thought best. “Nowhere was the primitive Lutheran ideal realised of a congregation forming itself in entire independence.... Thus at an early date Lutheranism took its place among the political factors, and its development was to a certain extent dependent upon the tendencies and inclinations of the authorities and ruling sovereigns of that day.”[989]

The Electors Frederick and Johann of Saxony were gradually joined by a number of other Princes who introduced the innovations into their lands, and the magistrates of the larger, and even of some of the smaller, Imperial cities soon followed suit. Thus the whole movement, having owed its success so largely to the authorities, was governed and exploited by them and assumed a strongly political character, needless to say, much to the detriment of its religious aspect.

What part the “inclinations of the ruling sovereigns” played, even in opposition to Luther’s own wishes, is plain from the example of the Margrave Philip of Hesse, who, next to the Elector of Saxony, was the most powerful, and undoubtedly the most determined, promoter of the great apostasy. This Prince, whose leanings were towards Zürich, as early as 1529 was anxious to extend the alliance he had concluded in the interests of the innovations with the Saxon Electorate, so as to embrace also the Zwinglians. Attracted by Zwingli’s denial of the sacrament, he also sought, with the assistance of theologians of his own way of thinking, to amalgamate the Swiss doctrine with that of Wittenberg; in this he was not, however, successful. The great religious alliance with Wittenberg aimed at by Zwingli himself as well as by Philip, and which it was hoped to settle at the Conference of Marburg (see vol. iii., xix. 1), was never realised, Luther refusing to give in on any point. In Hesse, however, the Zwinglian influence was maintained through the agency of theologians of Bucer’s school, which had the favour of the Court, while at Strasburg and other South German cities the authorities, leaning even more to the Swiss Confession, set up their “reformed” view as the actual rule of faith in their domains.

Nuremberg

The history of the apostasy of Nuremberg, which may be considered separately here, exhibits another type of the proceedings at the general religious revolution.

Here the two centres of the inception of the movement were the Augustinian monastery, inhabited by monks of Luther’s own Order, and, as in so many other places, the town-council. Several clerics had already preached the new doctrines when the magistrates, at the time of the Diet of Nuremberg, in 1522, from motives of prudence, forbade the discussion of controversial questions in the pulpit. In 1524 two Provosts, and likewise the Prior of the Augustinians, abolished the celebration of Mass. The most active in the cause of the change of religion was the former priest and preacher, Andreas Osiander. At the Diet of Nuremberg, in 1524, Catholic prelates were insulted by the excited mob. Wives were taken by the Augustinian Johann Walter, by Dominic Schleupner, preacher at St. Sebaldus, by the Abbot of St. Ægidius, by Provost Pessler and Osiander himself. Whereas the town-council—the moving spirits of which were Hieronymus Ebner, Caspar Stützel and particularly Lazarus Spengler, the Town Clerk—formally decided to join Luther’s party, many among the people remained wavering, doubtful and undecided; here, as in so many other places, we find no trace of any sudden falling away of the people as a whole.

What Charity Pirkheimer, the sister of the learned Nuremberg patrician, wrote of her native city is applicable to many other towns: “I frequently hear that there are many people in this city who are almost in despair and no longer go to any sermons, but say the preaching has led them astray so that they really do not know what to believe, and that they are sorry they ever listened to it.”[990]

The magistrates of Nuremberg, by dint of violent measures, sapped all Catholic life little by little and prevailed on the chief families to embrace Lutheranism. The religious Orders were prohibited from undertaking the cure of souls, the clergy were ordained civilly, while, to those who proved amenable, stipends were assured for life. The monastery of St. Ægidius surrendered to the magistrates in 1525 with its community numbering twenty-five persons, likewise the Augustinian priory from which no less than twenty-four religious passed over to Lutheranism, likewise the Carmelite monastery with fifteen priests and seven lay brothers, of whom only a few remained staunch, and finally the Carthusian house, where most of the monks became Lutherans.

All these changes took place in 1525.

The Dominicans held out longer. At last the five surviving Friars surrendered their convent to the magistrates in 1543. The Franciscan Observantines, however, made the finest stand, enduring every kind of persecution and the most abject poverty until the last died in 1562. Together with the sons of St. Francis mention must also be made of the convent of Poor Clares, subject to them, and presided over as Abbess by Charity Pirkheimer, a lady equally clever and pious.

The Poor Clares, eighty in number, were, like the nuns of the other convents in the town, deprived of their preachers and confessors and forced to listen to the evangelical pastors, which they did grudgingly and with many a murmur. For five years they were forcibly prevented from receiving the Blessed Sacrament. The priests of the town could only bring them spiritual assistance at the peril of their lives, and the consolations of the Church had eventually to be conveyed to them from a distance, from Bamberg and Spalt, by priests in disguise. One after another the inmates died in heroic fidelity to the Catholic religion; those who survived clung even more closely to the faith of their fathers and to the strict observance of their Rule. It is touching to read in the “Memoirs” of Charity Pirkheimer how the poor nuns passed through the misery of bodily privations and spiritual martyrdom in union with our suffering Saviour, in an inward peace which nothing could destroy; how they worked actively for their friends, the poor of the city, and even celebrated now and then little family festivals in joyful, sisterly love.

Wenceslaus Link, the former Superior of the Augustinian house at Altenburg, had removed to Nuremberg with his wife, where he became warden and preacher to the new hospital, proving himself a fierce Lutheran. In 1541 he informed Luther of the sad experiences he had had with the Evangel in the city. The “Word” was despised, he writes, immorality was on the increase and went unpunished, the preachers were hated and he himself when he went out had the name “parson” derisively hurled at him; people dubbed the Evangel a human invention, and snapped their fingers at the sentence of excommunication. Luther expressed his sympathy with his downhearted correspondent and sought to encourage him: it grieved him deeply, he wrote, that this fate should have befallen the Word of God; such a state of things was the third great temptation in the history of the Church, the first being the persecutions in the times of the Pagan rulers, and the second the difficulties occasioned by the great heresies in the period of the Fathers of the Church, both of which had been safely withstood. He comforts Link by assuring him that this, the third great temptation of the Gospel, will also pass over happily. “Should this not be the case, however, then there is no hope for Nuremberg, for that would be to grieve the Holy Ghost, and it would be necessary to think of quitting this Babylon. ‘We would have cured Babylon, but she is not healed [he says with Jeremias li. 9]; let us forsake her.’”[991]

It would, of course, be unfair to ascribe to Luther all the deeds of violence or injustice which took place in great number on the spread of the new ecclesiastical system. It is notorious how much the unruly, turbulent spirit of that day contributed to the distressing phenomena of the struggle then being carried on. Such a far-reaching revolution naturally set free forces and passions in both the higher and lower spheres, which could only with difficulty be brought once more under control. Now and then, too, faithful Catholics, laymen, priests and religious, by a misuse of the power they happened to possess, gave occasion to renewed acts of oppression on the part of the Lutherans.

It is, nevertheless, right to point out the turbulent stamp which Luther impressed upon the movement. His own share in the work, some examples of which we have considered above, were utterly at variance with his advice to Gabriel Zwilling, viz. “to leave everything to God, to avoid introducing innovations and to guide the people solely by faith and charity” (above, p. 314).

Luther and the Introduction of the New Teaching at Erfurt

The most powerful impulse to the introduction of the new teaching in Erfurt proceeded from the Augustinian house in that town. Its former Prior, Johann Lang, became an apostle of Lutheranism after having prepared the way for the innovation as a Humanist of modern views closely allied with the Humanist group at Erfurt.

We find Lang, in the summer of 1520, still Rural Vicar of his Order, and he may have retained the dignity for some time longer when Wenceslaus Link was elected as Staupitz’s successor at the Chapter held at Eisleben in that year. The fourteen monks of the Augustinian Congregation—at one time so faithful to the Church—who quitted the Order before Lang, remind us of the sad fact, that in his work Luther met with support in many places from those who were originally Catholics, and that the innovation was often heartily welcomed by members of the clergy, secular and regular.

The Saxon Augustinian Congregation, which was strongly represented at Erfurt, had been undermined by Luther’s spirit no less than by the struggle between the Conventuals and the Observantines. At the convention of the Order, held at Wittenberg on the Feast of the Three Kings in 1522, it was decided that begging would henceforth be no longer allowed,[992] “because we follow Holy Scripture.” At that time many had already apostatised. It was further ordained, that, by virtue of the evangelical freedom of the servants of God, everyone was free to leave his monastery. “Among those who are Christ’s there is neither monk nor layman. Whoever is not yet able to comprehend this freedom may act as he thinks fit, but must not give scandal to others by his conduct, in order that the Holy Evangel be not blasphemed.” On this the Protestant historian of the Augustinian Congregation remarks: “This [i.e. the giving of no scandal] was more easily commended than put into effect.” And, speaking of the time when the Erfurt Augustinian house was already almost empty (Usingen, Nathin and a few others alone remaining faithful), he writes: “Lang and his companions were in great danger of seeing the triumph of the Evangel rather in the rooting out of Popery than in the promoting of the new evangelical life.... Usingen, exposed to the mockery and insults of his own pupils, which he had certainly never deserved, at last quitted in anger the spot where he had worked for many years,” “an honest man.”[993] He withdrew in 1525 to the Augustinian monastery at Würzburg.

Factors favourable to the spread of Lutheranism in Erfurt were: The Humanism, antagonistic to the Church, which was all-powerful at the University; the restlessness of the common people, who were dissatisfied with their condition; the jealousy existing between the secular and regular clergy, the struggle which the town was carrying on with its chief pastor, the Archbishop of Mayence, concerning rights and property; last, but not least, the hatred of the laity for the opulent and far too numerous clergy. Here, therefore, we find the selfsame elements present which elsewhere so ably seconded the preaching of the new evangelists.

Erfurt affords an example of how pious foundations of former ages had multiplied to an excessive and burdensome extent, a condition of things which was no longer any real advantage to the Church, and simply tended to arouse the jealousy of the laity and working man.

There were more than three hundred vicariates (livings, or benefices), twenty-one parish churches or churches of the same standing, thirty chapels and six hospitals; the number of secular clergy was in proportion to the work entailed in serving the above, and there was an even greater number of monks and nuns. In every corner there were monastic establishments. Benedictines, the Scottish Brotherhood, the Canons Regular, Carthusians, Dominicans and Franciscans, Servites and Augustinians, all were represented. In addition to this were four or five convents of women. Erfurt perhaps possessed more ecclesiastical foundations and institutions than any other town in Germany, with the possible exception of Cologne and Nuremberg.[994] The rich possessions of the convents and churches at Erfurt were made the pretext for the religious innovations. The immunity they enjoyed from the burdens borne by the citizens was to be made an end of, the ecclesiastical property was to be handed over to the town, and the town itself was to be withdrawn from the temporal sway of the Archbishop of Mayence.

When Luther, who was already under the ban, preached at Erfurt, on April 7, 1521, in the Church of the Augustinians (see above, p. 63), he represented the religious change, the way for which had already been paved, in the light of that evangelical freedom which his view of faith and works was to bring to the inhabitants of Erfurt.[995]

“We must not build upon human laws or works, but have a real faith in Him Who destroys all sin.... Thus we don’t care a straw for man-made laws.” He derides the ecclesiastical laws, enacted by shepherds who destroyed the sheep and treated them “as butchers do on Easter Eve.” “Are all human laws to be ignored?” “I answer and say, that, where true Christian charity and faith prevails, everything that a man does is meritorious and each one may do as he pleases, provided always that he accounts his works as nothing; for they cannot save him.” “Christ’s work, which is not ours,” alone avails to save us. He extols the “sola fides” in persuasive and popular language, showing how it alone justifies and saves us.

It was on this occasion that, unguardedly, he allowed himself to be carried away to say: “What matters it if we commit a fresh sin! so long as we do not despair but remember that Thou, O God, still livest.”[996]

The contrary “delusion,” he says, had been invented and encouraged by the preachers, whose proceedings were infinitely worse than any mere “numbering of the people.” He storms against the clergy and vigorously foments the social discontent. To build churches, or found livings, etc., was mere outward show; “such works simply gave rise to avarice, desire for the praise of men and other vices.” “You think that as a priest you are free from sin, and yet you nourish so much jealousy in your heart; if you could slay your neighbour with impunity you would do so and then go on saying Mass. Surely it would not be surprising were a thunderbolt to smite you to the earth.” In order to complete the effect of this demagogic outburst he mocks at the sermons, with their legends “about the old ass,” etc., and their quotations from ancient philosophers, who were “not only against the Gospel, but even against God Himself.”

The result was stupendous, especially in the case of the young men at the University whom the Humanists had disposed in Luther’s favour. On the day after Luther’s departure one of his sympathisers, a Canon of the Church of St. Severus, who had taken part in the solemn reception accorded Luther on his arrival in the town, was told by the Dean, Jakob Doliatoris, that he was under excommunication and might no longer attend the service in choir. On his complaining to the University, of which he was a member, the students intervened with demonstrations in his favour.[997]

Luther heard of this only through certain unreliable reports and wrote to Spalatin: “They apprehend still worse things at Erfurt. The Senate pretends to see nothing of what is going on. The clergy are reviled. The young apprentices are said to be in league with the students. We are about to see the prophecy fulfilled: ‘Erfurt has become a new [Husite] Prague.’” Previous to this, in the same letter, he had said of his adversaries in the Empire: “Let them be, perhaps the day of their visitation is at hand.”[998]

Soon after, however, he became rather more concerned, perhaps owing to further reports of the unrest, and began to fear for the “good name and progress of the Evangel,” in consequence of the acts of brutality committed. “It is indeed quite right,” he wrote to Melanchthon, “that those who persist in their impiety should have their courage cooled,” but in this “Satan makes a mockery of us”; he sees in a mystical vision “The Judgment Day,” the approaching end of the world at Erfurt, and the fig tree, as had been foretold, growing up, covered with leaves, but bare of fruit because the cause of the Evangel could not make its way.[999]

In July, 1521, there broke out in the town the so-called “Pfaffensturm.”

In a few days more than sixty parsonages had been pulled down, libraries destroyed and the archives and tithe registers of the ecclesiastical authorities ransacked; little regard was shown for human life. A little later seven clergy-houses were again set on fire. Meanwhile the Lutheran preachers, with the fanatical Lang at their head, were at liberty to stir up the people.[1000] The ruin of the University was imminent; many parents withdrew their sons, fearing lest they should be infected with the “Husite heresy.” The customary Catholic services were, however, performed as usual, but the end of Catholic worship could be foreseen owing to the ever-increasing growth of “evangelical freedom.” Renegade monks, especially Luther’s former Augustinian comrades, preached against “the old Church as the mother of faithlessness and hypocrisy”; Lang spoke of the monasteries as “dens of robbers.” Under the attacks of the preachers one human ordinance after another fell to the ground. Fasting, long prayers, founded Masses, confraternities, everything in fact, disappeared before the new liberty, value being allowed only to temporal works of mercy. The avarice of the “shorn, anointed priestlings” was no longer to be stimulated by the people’s money. “Ruffianly crowds showed their sympathy with the preachers by yelling and shouting in church. Theological questions were debated in market-places and taverns, men, women and boys expounded the Bible.”[1001]

Luther, through Lang, urged the Augustinians at Erfurt, who still remained true to their monastic Rule, to apostatise; he merely expressed the wish that there should be no “tumults” against the Order. Lang was to “defend the cause of the Evangel”[1002] at the next Convention of the Saxon Augustinians, a meeting which took place at Epiphany, 1522 (above, p. 337). Lang justified his apostasy in a work in which he expressly appeals to the new doctrines on faith and good works. The exodus of the monks from their convent was not, however, carried out as quietly as Luther would have wished; he dreaded the “slanders of the foes of the Evangel” and was depressed by the immorality of the inhabitants of Erfurt, and by his own experience with his followers. He spoke his mind to Lang: “The power of the Word is still concealed, or else you pay too little heed to it. This surprises me greatly. We are just the same as before, hard, unfeeling, impatient, sinful, intemperate, lascivious and combative, in short, the mark of the Christian, true charity, is nowhere to be found. Paul’s words are fulfilled in us: We have God’s Word on our lips, but not in power (cp. 1 Cor. iv. 20).”[1003] In 1524 Lang married the rich widow of an Erfurt fuller.

Those who had been unfaithful to their vows and priestly obligations, and then acted as preachers of the new faith, gave the greatest scandal by their conduct.

Many letters dating from 1522, 1523 and 1524, written by Lutheran Humanists such as Eobanus Hessus, Euricius Cordus and Michael Nossenus, who, with disgust, were observing their behaviour, bore witness to the general deterioration of morals in the town, more particularly among the escaped monks and nuns.[1004] “I see,” Luther himself wrote to Erfurt, “that monks are leaving in great numbers for no other reason than for their belly’s sake and for the freedom of the flesh.”[1005]

Meanwhile, discussions were held in the Erfurt circle of the semi-theologian Lang, on the absence of free-will in man and on “the evil that God does.” Lang applied to Luther for help. “I see that you are idlers,” was his reply, “though the devil provides you with abundance of occupation in what he plots amongst you. You must not argue concerning the evil that God does. It is not, as you fancy, the work of God, but a ceasing to work on God’s part. We desire what is evil when He ceases to work in us and leaves our nature free to fulfil its own wickedness. Where He works the result is ever good. Scripture speaks of such ceasing to work on God’s part as a ‘hardening.’ Thus evil cannot be wrought [by God], since it is nothing (‘malum non potest fieri, cum sit nihil’), but it arises because what is good is neglected, or prevented.”

This was one of the ethical doctrines proclaimed by Luther and Melanchthon which lay at the back of the new theory of good works. Luther enlarged on it in startling fashion in his book “De servo arbitrio” (above, p. 223 ff.).

Bartholomew Usingen, the learned and pious Augustinian, who had once been Luther’s professor and had enjoyed his especial esteem, witnessed with pain and sadness the changes in the town and in his own priory. The former University professor, now an aged man, fearlessly took his place in the yet remaining Catholic pulpits, particularly at St. Mary’s, assured of the support and respect of the staunch members of the fold who flocked in numbers to hear him. There he protested against the new doctrines and the growing licentiousness, though he too had to submit to unheard-of insults, abuse and even violent interruptions of his sermons when emissaries of the Lutherans succeeded in forcing their way in. He also laboured against religious innovations with his pen.

“If we are taught,” says Usingen, “that faith alone can save us, that good works are of no avail for salvation and do not merit a reward for us in heaven, who will then take the trouble to perform them?—Why exhort men even to do what is right if we have no free-will? And who will be diligent in keeping the commandments of God if the people are taught that they cannot possibly be kept, and that Christ has already fulfilled them perfectly for us?”[1006]

Usingen points out to the preachers, especially to Johann Culsamer, the noisiest of them all: “The fruits of your preaching, the excesses and scandals which spring from it, are known to the whole world; then indeed shall the people exert themselves to tame their passions when they are told repeatedly that by faith alone all sin is blotted out, and that confession is no longer necessary. Adultery, unchastity, theft, blasphemy, calumny and such other vices increase to an alarming extent, as unfortunately we see with our own eyes (‘patet per quotidianum exercitium’).”[1007]

“The effect of your godless preaching is,” he says, on another occasion, “that the faithful no longer perform any works of mercy, and for this reason the poor are heard to complain bitterly of you.”[1008] “The rich no longer trouble about the needy, since they are told in sermons that faith alone suffices for salvation and that good works are not meritorious. The clergy, who formerly distributed such abundant alms from the convents and foundations, are no longer in a position to continue these works of charity because, owing to your attacks, their means have been so greatly reduced.”[1009]

The worthy Augustinian had shown especial marks of favour to his pupil Lang, and it grieved him all the more deeply that he, by the boundless animosity he exhibited in his discourses, should have set an example to the other preachers in the matter of abuse, whether of the Orders, the clergy or the Papacy. He said to him in 1524, “I recalled you from exile [i.e. transferred you from Wittenberg to the studium generale at Erfurt] ... and this is the distinction you have won for yourself; you were the cause of the Erfurt monks leaving their monastery; there had been fourteen apostasies and now yours makes the fifteenth; like the dragon of the Apocalypse when he fell from heaven, you dragged down with you the third part of the stars.”[1010]

Usingen mentions the “report,” possibly exaggerated, that at one time some three hundred apostate monks were in residence at Erfurt; many ex-nuns were daily to be seen wandering about the streets.[1011] Most of these auxiliaries who had flocked to the town in search of bread, were uneducated clerics who drew upon themselves the scorn of the Humanists belonging to the new faith. Any of these clerics who were capable of speaking in public, by preference devoted themselves to invective. Usingen frequently reproached his foes with their scurrility in the pulpit, their constant attacks on the sins and crimes of the clergy, and their violent reprobation and abuse of institutions and customs held in universal veneration for ages, all of which could only exercise a pernicious influence on morality. “Holy Scripture,” he says in a work against the two preachers Culsamer and Mechler, “commands the preacher to point out their sins to the people and to exhort them to amendment. But the new preaching does not speak to the people of their faults but only of the sins of the clergy, and thus the listener forgets his own sins and leaves the church worse than he entered it.” And elsewhere: “Invective was formerly confined to the viragoes of the market-place, but now it flourishes in the churches.” “Even your own hearers are weary of your everlasting slanders. Formerly, they say, the gospel was preached to us, but such abuse and calumny was not then heard in the pulpit.”[1012]

It could not be but regarded as strange that Luther himself, forgetful of his former regard, went so far as to egg on his pupils and friends at Erfurt against his old professor. Usingen certainly had never anticipated such treatment at his hands. “He has, as you know,” Luther wrote to Lang, on June 26, “become hard-headed and full of ingrained obstinacy and conceit. Therefore, in your preaching, you must draw down upon his folly the contempt that such coarse and inflated blindness deserves.” As from his early years he had never been known to yield to anyone, Luther gave up the hope of seeing the stubborn sophist “yield to Christ”; he sees here the confirmation of the proverb: “No fool like an old fool.”[1013]

Carried away by his success at Erfurt, Luther urged the preachers not to allow their energies to flag.

It is true that in an official Circular-Letter to the Erfurt Congregation, despatched on July 10, 1522, and intended for publication, his tone is comparatively calm; the superscription is: “Martin Luther, Ecclesiastes of Wittenberg, to all the Christians at Erfurt together with the preachers and ministers, Grace and Peace in Christ Jesus, Our Lord.”[1014] Therein, at Lang’s request, dealing with the controversy which had arisen at Erfurt regarding the veneration of the Saints, he declares that whilst there was certainly no warrant of Scripture for Saint-worship, it ought not to be assailed with violence (i.e. not after the fashion of the fanatics whose doings were a public danger). He trusts “we shall be the occasion of no rising” and points to his own example as showing with what moderation he had ever proceeded against the Papists: “As yet I have not moved a finger against them, and Christ has destroyed them with the sword of His mouth” (2 Thess. ii. 8).[1015] “Leave Christ to act” in true faith—such is the gist of his exhortation in this letter so admirably padded with Pauline phrases—but despise and avoid the “stiff-necked sophists”; “Whoever stinks, let him go on stinking.” He concludes, quite in the Pauline manner: “May Our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen you together with us in all the fulness of the knowledge of Himself to the honour of His Father, Who is also ours, to Whom be Glory for ever and ever, Amen. Greet Johann Lang [and the other preachers]: George Forchheim, Johann Culhamer, Antony Musam, Ægidius Mechler and Peter Bamberger. Philip, Jonas and all our people greet you. The Grace of God be with you all, Amen.”[1016]

But when Luther, at the instance of Duke Johann of Saxony and his son Johann Frederick, came to Erfurt, in October, 1522, accompanied by Melanchthon, Agricola and Jacob Probst, and proceeded to address the multitude who flocked to hear him (October 21 and 22), he was unable to restrain his passion, and, by his words of fire, fanned the hatred and blind fanaticism of the mob to the highest pitch.

He scolded the clergy as “fat and lazy priestlings and monks,” who “hitherto had carried on their deceitful trade throughout the whole world,” and upon whom “everything had been bestowed.” “So far they have mightily fattened their great paunches.” “Of what use were their brotherhoods, indulgence-letters and all their countless trickeries?” “Ah, it must have cost the devil much labour to establish the ecclesiastical Estate.... Alas for these oil-pots who can do nothing but anoint people, wash walls and baptise bells!” But the believer is “Lord over Pope and devil and all such powers, and is also a judge of this delusion.”

And yet in remarkable contrast to all this, in his closing words, spoken with greater ponderance, he exhorts the people “not to despise their enemies even though they know not Christ, but to have patience with them.” Yet before this he had declared: “We must crush the fiendish head of this brood with the Evangel. Then the Pope will lose his crown.” He had also preached against the secular authority exercised at Erfurt by the Archbishop of Mayence: “Our Holy Fathers and reverend lords, who have the spiritual sword as well as the temporal, want to be our rulers and masters. It is plain they have not got even the spiritual sword, and certainly God never gave them the temporal. Therefore it is only right, that, as they have exalted their government so greatly, it should be greatly humbled.”[1017]

Amidst all this he has not a single word of actual blame for the former acts of violence, but merely a few futile platitudes on peaceableness, such as: “We do not wish to preserve the Evangel by our own efforts,” for it is sufficiently strong to see to itself. He assures his hearers that, “he was not concerned how to defend it.”[1018] Yet he sets up each of his followers as “king” and “yoke-fellow of Christ,” having the Royal Priesthood so that they may defy the Hierarchy, “who have stolen the sword out of our hands.” All this while expressly professing to proclaim the great and popular doctrine of faith and Bible only.

“You have been baptised and endowed with the true faith, therefore you are spiritual and able to judge of all things by the word of the Evangel, and are not to be judged of any man.... Say: My faith is founded on Christ alone and His Word, not on the Pope or on any Councils.... My faith is here a judge and may say: This doctrine is true, but that is false and evil. And the Pope and all his crew, nay, all men on earth, must submit to that decision.... Therefore I say: Whoever has faith is a spiritual man and judge of all things, and is himself judged of no man ... the Pope owes him obedience, and, were he a true Christian, would prostrate himself at his feet, and so too would every University, learned man or sophist.”[1019]

All depends on one thing, namely, whether this believer “judges according to the Evangel,” i.e. according to the new interpretation of Scripture which Luther has disclosed.

We naturally think of Usingen and those Erfurt professors who remained faithful to the Church when Luther, in the course of his sermon, in sarcastic language, pits his new interpretation of Scripture against the “sophists, birettas and skull-caps.” “Bang the mouths of the sophists to [when they cry]: ‘Papa, Papa, Concilium, Concilium, Patres, Patres, Universities, Universities.’ What on earth do we care about that? one word of God is more than all this.”[1020] “Let them go on with all their sermons and their dreams!” “Let us see what such bats will do with their feather-brooms!”[1021]

The commanding tone in which he spoke and the persuasive force of his personality were apt to make his hearers forgetful of the fact, that, after all, his great pretensions rested on his own testimony alone. In the general excitement the objections, which he himself had the courage to bring forward, seemed futile: “Were not Christ and the Gospel preached before? Do you fancy,” he replies, “that we are not aware of what is meant by Gospel, Christ and Faith?”[1022]

It was of the utmost importance to him that, on this occasion of his appearance at Erfurt, he should make the whole weight of his personal authority felt so as to stem betimes the flood let loose by others who taught differently; he was determined to impress the seal of his own spirit upon the new religious system at this important outpost.

Even before this he had let fall some words in confidence to Lang expressive of his concern that, at Erfurt, as it seemed to him, they wished to outstrip him in the knowledge of the Word, so that he felt himself decreasing while others increased (John iii. 30),[1023] and in the Circular-Letter above mentioned, he had anxiously warned the Erfurt believers against those who, confiding in their “peculiar wisdom,” were desirous of teaching “something besides Christ and beyond our preaching.”[1024] Now, personally present at the place where danger threatened, he insists from the pulpit with great emphasis on his mission: “It was not I who put myself forward.... Christ Our Master when sending His apostles out into the world to preach gave them no other directions than to preach the Gospel ... when He makes a man a preacher and apostle He also in His gracious condescension gives him instructions how to speak and what to speak, even down to the present day.” Those who heard him were therefore to believe for certain “that he was not preaching what was his, but, like the apostles, the Word of God.”[1025]

Many of his hearers were all the more likely to overlook the strange pretensions herein embodied, seeing that a large portion of his discourse proclaimed the sweet doctrine of evangelical freedom and denounced good works.

For the latter purpose he very effectively introduces the Catholic preachers, putting into their mouths the assertion, falsely credited to them, that “only works and man’s justice” availed anything, not “Christ and His Justice”; for they say, “faith is not sufficient, it is also necessary to fast, to pray, to build churches, to found monasteries, monkeries and nunneries, and so forth.” But “they will be knocked on the head and recoil, and be convicted of the fact, that they know nothing whatever of what concerns Christ, the Gospel and good works.” “We cannot become pious and righteous by our own works, if we could we should be striking Paul a blow on the mouth.” These “dream-preachers” speak in vain of “Works, fasting and prayer,” but you are a Christian if you believe that Christ is for you wisdom and righteousness. “The doctrine of those who are called Christians must not come from man, or proceed from man’s efforts.... Therefore a Christian life is not promoted by our fasting, prayers, cowls or anything that we may undertake.”[1026]

He returns again and again to the belief, so deeply rooted in the heart, of the efficacy of good works in order that he may uproot it completely. The whole Christian system demands, he thinks, the condemnation of the importance attached hitherto to good works. “Thus the whole of Christianity consists in your holding fast to the Evangel, which Christ alone ordains and teaches, not to human words or works.”[1027] It is a “devil” who speaks to you of the meritorious power of works, “not indeed a black or painted devil, but a white devil, who, under a beautiful semblance of life, infuses into you the poison of eternal death.”[1028] Of the Christian who relies only on faith, he says, “Christ’s innocence becomes his innocence, and in the same way Christ’s piety, holiness and salvation become his, and all that is in Christ is contained in the believing heart together with Christ.”[1029] “But such faith is awakened in us by God. From it spring the works by which we assist and serve our neighbour.”[1030]

He speaks at considerable length in the last part of his sermons of the particular works which he considers allowable and commendable. How much he wished to imply may, however, be inferred from what has gone before.

Shall we not do good works? Shall we not pray any more, fast, found monasteries, become monks or nuns, or do similar works? The answer is: “There are two kinds of good works, some which are looked upon as good,” i.e. “our own self-chosen works,” such as “special fasting, special prayers, wearing a special dress or joining an Order.” “None of this is ordained by God,” and “Christian faith looks to nothing save Christ only,” therefore these works we must leave severely alone. There are, on the other hand, works which are better than these. “When once we have laid hold upon Christ, then good Christian works follow, such as God has commanded and which man performs not for his own advantage but in the service of his neighbour.” But even of these works Luther is careful to add that they should be performed “without placing any trust in them for justification.” “Fasting is a good work,” but then, “the devil himself does not eat too much,” and sometimes even “a Jew” fasts; “prayer is also a good work,” but it does not consist in “much mumbling or shouting,” and even “the Turk prays much with his lips.” “No one may or can bear the name of Christian except by the work of Christ.”[1031]

Thus, even where he is forced to admit good works, he must needs add a warning.

Finally, where he is exhorting to the patient bearing of crosses, he immediately, and most strangely, restricts this exercise of virtue to the limits of his own experience: One bears the cross when he is unjustly proclaimed “a heretic and evil-doer,” not “when he is sick in bed”; to bear the cross is to be “deprived of interior consolation,” and to be severely tried by “God’s hand and by His anger.”[1032]

In the new congregation at Erfurt it was a question of the very foundations of the moral life. Yet in Luther’s addresses we miss the necessary exhortations to a change of heart, to struggle against the passions and overcome sensuality. Neither is the sinner exhorted to repentance, penance, contrition, fear of God and a firm purpose of amendment, nor are the more zealous encouraged to the active exercise of the love of God, to self-denial according to the virtues of their state, or to sanctification by the use of those means which Luther still continued to recognise, at least to a certain extent, such as the Eucharist. All his exhortations merge into this one thing, trust in Christ. He preached, indeed, one part of the sermon of the Precursor, viz. “The Kingdom of God is at hand”; with the other: “Bring forth therefore fruit worthy of penance,” he would have nothing to do.

As far as the change at Erfurt went, the moral condition of the town was to serve more than ever as a refutation of Luther’s expectation that “the works will follow.”

On January 24, 1524, Eobanus Hessus wrote to Lang: “Immorality, corruption of youth, contempt of learning and dissensions, such are the fruits of your Evangel.”[1033] “I dislike being here very much,” he says, in the same year, to his friend Sturz, “since all is lost, for there is now no hope of a revival of learning or of a recovery in public life. Everything is on the road to destruction, and we ourselves are rendered odious to all classes by reason of some unlearned deserters. “Oh, unhappy Erfurt,” he cries, in view of the “outrageous behaviour of these godless men of God”; one seeks to oppress the other; already the battlefield of passion is tinged with “blood.”[1034]

“You have by your preaching called forth a diabolical life in the town,” Usingen wrote in 1524 of the preachers at Erfurt, “although this is now displeasing to you, and you encourage it even up to the present day; you set the people free from the obedience which, according to the Divine command, they owe to the authorities of the Church, you deprive the people of the fear both of God and of man, hence the corruption of morals, which increases from day to day.”[1035]

Usingen, who continued courageously to vindicate the faith of his fathers, was depicted by the preachers as a “crazy old man,” just as they had been advised to do by Luther. “I am quite pleased to hear,” Luther wrote to Lang some considerable time after his return, “that this ‘Unsingen’ is still carrying on his fooleries; as the Apostle Paul says, their folly must be made manifest (2 Tim. iii. 9).”[1036]

The champion of the Church, the alleged fool, was sufficiently clear-sighted and frank to predict the Peasant-War as the end of all the godless commotion, and to prophesy that the result of the general religious subversion would be the ruin of his German Fatherland. A fanatical preacher in the town had appealed to the mattocks of the peasants. Him the Augustinian asks: “If the Word of God suffices in the Church, why have you in your sermons appealed for help to the pickaxes, mattocks and spades of the peasants?” “Why do you tell the people that the peasant must come from the field with these weapons to assist the Evangel, if your own and your comrades’ words prove of no avail? Do you not know with what audacity the peasants are already rising against their lords?” “The new preaching,” he complains, even where it is not directly inflammatory, “renders the people, who are already desirous of innovations and dearly love the freedom of the flesh, only too much inclined for tumults, and this daily foments the spirit of unrest.”[1037] “Do you not know that the mob is a hydra-headed monster, a monster that thirsts for blood? Are you anxious to promote your cause with the help of cut-throats?”[1038] Owing to the iconoclasts, the ancient greatness of Constantinople fell, and the Roman Empire of the East faded away; in like manner, so gloomily he predicts, the religious struggle now being waged in Germany will bring about the ruin of the Western Empire and the loss of its ancient greatness.[1039]

The help which the innovators received from the Erfurt magistrates induced the leaders of the party to pin their trust on the support of the secular authorities. Even this was justified by appeals to Scripture.

Lang, on presenting to Hermann von Hoff, the president of the Erfurt town-council, a translation which he had made of the Gospel of St. Matthew, stated in the accompanying letter, that he had done so “in order that all may know and take heed to the fact, that whatever they undertake against the Gospel is also directed against you. It is necessary, unfortunately, to defend the Gospel by means of the sword.”[1040]

In July, 1521, an agreement had, it is true, been entered into which brought some guarantee of safety to the clergy, more particularly the Canons of St. Mary’s and St. Severus, yet in the ensuing years the Chapters were forced to make endless protests against the preachers’ interference in their services and the encroachments of the magistrates on their personal liberty, all in direct contravention of the agreement.

The council demanded that the oath of obedience should be taken to itself and not to the Archbishop of Mayence, as heretofore. Priests were arrested on charges which did not concern the council at all, and were taken to the Rathaus. The clergy were obliged to pay taxes like other citizens on all farms and property which belonged to them or to their churches—which had been exempt from time immemorial—and likewise on any treasure or cash they might possess. When the peasants threatened Erfurt, the clergy were advised to bring all the valuables belonging to their churches to the Rathaus where the council, in view of the danger of the times, would receive them into safe custody, giving in return formal receipts. Since the council, as guardians of several monasteries, including St. Peter’s, had already appointed laymen who hindered the lawful Superiors from coming to any independent decision in matters of any moment, and as all the chalices and other vessels of gold and silver, together with the more valuable Church vestments, had already been seized at the Servites, the Brothers of the Rule and the Carthusians, the Canons saw how futile it would be to reject the “advice” given, and they accordingly decided to deliver up the more valuable objects belonging to the two principal churches, St. Mary’s and St. Severus, their decision being accepted by the council with “hearty thanks.” At the formal surrender of the vessels the magistrates protested that the Canons were really not fully aware how well disposed they, the magistrates, were towards them; that they had no wish to drive away the clergy, “but rather to show them all charity so that they might return thanks to God.” Yet we learn also that: Many persons belonging to the council whispered that it was their intention to make the position of the clergy unbearable by means of this and other like acts of despoliation.[1041]

On April 27, 1525, on the occasion of the taking over of the treasure, with the co-operation of persons “distinguished for their strong Lutheran views,” a strict search was made in both the venerable churches for anything of any value that might have been left. Not the least consideration was paid to the private property of the individual clergy, objects were seized in the most violent manner, locked chests and cupboards were simply forced open, or, if this took too long, broken with axes. Every hasp of silver on copes and elsewhere was torn off. “Unclean fists,” says a contemporary narrator, “seized the chalices and sacred vessels, which they had no right to touch, and carried them with loud jeers in buckets and baskets to places where they were dishonoured.” As in other churches and convents, the books and papers on which any claims of the clergy against the council might be based were selected with special care. While precious works of art were thus being consigned to destruction,[1042] members of the town-council were consoling the Canons by renewed assurances, that the council “would protect both their life and their property.” Finally, the two churches were closely watched for some while after, “lest something might still be preserved in them, and to prevent such being taken possession of by the clergy.”[1043]

When, in 1525, on the news of the Peasant Rising in Swabia and Franconia, meetings were held by the peasants in the Erfurt district, the adherents of the movement determined to enforce by violence their demands even at Erfurt. Those in the town who sympathised with Luther made common cause with the rebels.[1044] The magistrates were undecided. They were not as yet exclusively Lutheran, but were anxious to make the town independent of the Archbishop of Mayence, and to secure for themselves the property and rights of the clergy. For the most part the lower orders were unfavourable to the magistrates, and therefore sided with the peasantry.

The peasants from the numerous villages which were politically regarded as belonging to the Erfurt district demanded that they should be emancipated from the burdens which they had to bear, and placed on a footing of social equality with the lower class of Erfurt burghers. With this they joined, as had been done elsewhere, religious demands in the sense of Luther’s innovations. The movement was publicly inaugurated by fourteen villages at a meeting held in a beerhouse on April 25 or 26, 1525, at which the peasants bound themselves by an oath taken with “uplifted right hand,” at the risk of their lives “to support the Word of God and to combine to abolish the old obsolete imposts.” When warned not to go to Erfurt, one of the leaders replied: “God has enlightened us, we shall not remain, but go forward.” As soon as they had come to an agreement as to their demands concerning the taxes “and other heavy burdens which the Evangel was to assist them to get rid of,” they collected in arms around the walls of Erfurt.[1045] The magistrates then took counsel how to divert the threatening storm and direct it against the clergy and the hated authorities of Mayence. The remembrance of the “Pfaffensturm” which, in 1521, had served as a means to allay the social grievances, was an encouragement to adopt a similar course. As intermediary between council and peasants, Hermann von Hoff, who has been mentioned above as an opponent of the Catholic clergy and the rights of Mayence, took a leading part; one of his principles was that “it is necessary to make use of every means, sweet as well as bitter, if we are to allay so great a commotion and to avert further mischief.”[1046]

In their perplexity the magistrates, through the agency of Hoff, admitted the horde of peasants, only stipulating that they should spare the property of the burghers, though they were to be free to plunder the Palace of the Archbishop of Mayence, the “hereditary lord” of the city, and also the toll-house. The peasants made their entry on April 28 with that captain of the town whom Lang had invited to draw the sword in the cause of the Evangel. Not only was the Palace despoiled and the toll-house utterly destroyed, but the salt warehouses and almost all the parsonages were attacked and looted. In the name of “evangelical freedom” the plunderers vented all their fury on the sacred vessels, pictures and relics they were still able to find.

“In the Archbishop’s Palace Lutheran preachers, for instance, Eberlin of Günzburg, Mechler and Lang, mixed with the rabble of the town and country and preached to them.” The preachers made no secret of being “in league with the peasantry and the proletariate of the town.” The clergy and religious were, however, to be made “to feel still more severely”[1047] the effects of the alliance between the three parties.

At the first coming of the peasants, that quarters might be found for them, “all the convents of monks and nuns were confiscated and their inhabitants driven out into the street.” “Alas, how wretched did the poor nuns look passing up and down the alleys of the town,”[1048] says an eye-witness in an Erfurt chronicle. All those connected with the Collegiate churches of St. Mary and St. Severus had peasants billeted on them in numbers out of all proportion to their means. On the morning of April 28, the service in the church of St. Mary’s was violently interrupted. On the following Sunday, Eberlin, the apostate Franciscan, commenced a course of sermons, which he continued for several days with his customary vehemence and abuse. Exactly a week after the coming of the peasants they passed a resolution in the Mainzer Hof that the number of parishes should be reduced to ten, including the Collegiate church of St. Mary’s, and that in all these parish churches “the pure Word of God should be preached without any additions, man-made laws, decrees or doctrines.” As for the pastors, they were to be appointed and removed by the congregation. This was equivalent to sentencing the old worship to death. On the same day an order was issued to all the parish churches and monasteries to abstain in future from reciting or singing Matins, Vespers or Mass. The only man who was successful in evading the prohibition was Dr. Conrad Klinge, the courageous guardian of the Franciscans, who at the hospital continued to preach in the old way to crowded audiences.

Most of the beneficed clergy now quitted the town, as the council refused to undertake any responsibility on their behalf; and as they were forbidden to resume Divine Worship or even to celebrate Mass in private, at the gate of the town they were subjected to a thorough search lest they should have any priestly property concealed about them. The magistrates sought to extort from the clergy who remained, admissions which might serve as some justification for their conduct. The post of preacher at the Dom, after it had been refused by Eberlin, who had at length taken fright at the demagogic spirit now abroad, was bestowed upon one of Luther’s immediate followers; the new preacher was Dr. Johann Lang, an “apostate, renegade, uxorious monk,” as a contemporary chronicler calls him.

All tokens of any authority of the Archbishop of Mayence in the town were obliterated, and the archiepiscopal jurisdiction was declared to be at an end. Eobanus Hessus wrote gleefully of the ruin of the “popish” foe. “We have driven away the Bishop of Mayence, for ever. All the monks have been expelled, the nuns turned out, the canons sent away, all the temples and even the money-boxes in the churches plundered; the commonwealth is now established and taxes and customs houses have been done away with. Again we are now free.”[1049] Here the statement that the clergy of Mayence had been expelled “for ever” proved incorrect, for the rights of the over-lord were soon to be re-established.

The magistrates were the first to fall; they were deposed, and the lower-class burghers and the peasants replaced them by two committees, one to represent the town, the other the country. In the latter committee the excited ringleaders of the peasantry gave vent to threatening speeches against the former municipal government, and such wild words as “Kill these spectres, blow out their brains” were heard.[1050]

The actual wording of the resolutions passed by both the committees was principally the work of preachers of the new faith. Eberlin, too, was consulted as to how best to draw up “the articles in accordance with the Bible,” but he cautiously declined to have anything to do with this, and declared that their demands seemed to him to be exorbitant and that, “the Evangel would not help them.” The Lutheran preachers also exerted themselves to bring about the reinstatement of the magistrates. It is said that on April 30, in every quarter of the town, a minister of the new doctrine preached to the citizens and country people to the following effect: “You have now by your good and Christian acts and deeds emancipated yourselves altogether from the Court at Mayence and its jurisdiction, which, according to Divine justice and Holy Scripture, should have no temporal authority whatever. But in order that this freedom may not lead you astray, there must be some authorities over you, and therefore you must for the future recognise the worthy magistrates of Erfurt as your rulers,” etc.[1051]

The words of the preachers prevailed, and the newly elected councillors became the head of a sort of republic. The burdens of the town increased to an oppressive extent, however, and the peasants who had returned to their villages groaned more than ever under the weight of the taxes. Financial difficulties continued to increase.

Yielding to the pressure of circumstances, the councillors gave their sanction on May 9, 1525, “under the new seal,” to the amended articles, twenty-eight in number, which had been drafted by the town and peasant committees during the days of storm and stress. The very first article made obligatory the preaching of “the pure Word of God,” and gave to each congregation the right to choose its own pastors. “The gist of the remaining articles was the appointment of a permanent administrative council to give a yearly account, and to impose no new taxes without the knowledge and sanction of both burghers and country subjects.”

In accepting the articles it was agreed that Luther’s opinion on them should be ascertained, a decision which seems to show that the peasants and burghers, though probably not the councillors themselves, reckoned upon the weighty sanction of Wittenberg. Yet about May 4 Luther had finished his booklet “Against the murderous Peasants” (above p. 201), which was far from favourable to seditious movements such as that of Erfurt. The council invited him by letter, on May 10, to come to Erfurt with Melanchthon “and establish the government of the town,” as Melanchthon puts it (“ad constituendum urbis statum”).[1052] Luther, however, did not accept the invitation, and a month later the council sent him a copy of the articles, requesting a written opinion. It is difficult to believe that the Erfurt magistrates were not aware of Luther’s growing bitterness against the peasants, which is attested by the pamphlets he wrote at the time, or that they were incapable of drawing the obvious conclusion as to his reply.[1053] “If the council in taking this step,” says Eitner, “was relying on Luther’s known attitude towards all revolutionary movements, and hoped to make an end of the inconvenient demands of the people by means of the Reformer’s powerful words, then their expectation was fully realised. Both Luther’s letter (i.e. his answer to the council) and his written notes on the copy of the articles sent him, are full of irony expressing the displeasure of one whose advice was so much in request, but whose interference in the peasant movement, in spite of his good intentions, had thus far met with so little success.... The very articles which the authors had most at heart were submitted by Luther to a relentless and somewhat pointless criticism.... Thus we see in a comparatively trivial case what has long been acknowledged of his action generally, viz. that Luther’s interference in the Peasant-War cannot be altogether justified.... His conduct shattered his reputation, both in the empire and in his second native town [Erfurt], and paved the way for the inevitable reaction.”[1054]

Luther, in his reply to the “Honourable, prudent and beloved” members of the Erfurt council,[1055] declares in the very first sentences that the Twenty-eight Articles were so “ill-advised” that “little good could come of them” even were he present himself at Erfurt; he is of opinion that certain people, who “are better off than they deserve,” are putting on airs at the expense of the council, constitute a danger to the common weal, and, with “unheard-of audacity and wickedness,” wish to “turn things upside down.” Things must never be permitted to come to such a pass that the councillors fear the common people and become their servants; the common people must be quiet and entrust all to the honourable magistrates to be set right, “lest the Princes have occasion to take up arms against Erfurt on account of such unwarrantable conduct.” Luther’s new sovereign, the Elector Johann, had just been assisting in the suppression of the peasant rising. He was in entire sympathy with the Wittenberg Professor, whom he so openly protected and favoured, and doubtless they had discussed together the state of affairs at Erfurt. In his written reply Luther asks whether it is not “seditious” to refuse to pay the Elector the sum due to him for acting as protector of the city. “Did they, then, esteem so lightly the Prince and the security of the town, which, as a matter of fact, was something not to be paid for in money?” Their demand really signified either that “no one was to protect the town of Erfurt, or that the Princes were to relinquish their claim to payment and yet continue to protect the town.”

The demand that the congregations of the parishes should appoint their own pastors Luther considered particularly inadmissible; it was “seditious that the parishes should wish to appoint and dismiss their own pastors without reference to the councillors, as though the councillors, in whom authority was vested, were not concerned in what the town might do.” He insists that “the councillors have the right to know what sort of persons are holding office in the town.”

Concerning some of the articles which dealt with taxes and imposts, he points out that the business is not his concern, since these are temporal matters. Of the proposal to re-establish the decayed University of Erfurt he says: “This article is the best of all.” Of two of the articles he notes: “Both these will do,” one being that, for the future, openly immoral persons and prostitutes of all classes were not to be tolerated, nor the common houses of public women, and the other, that every debtor, whether to the council or the community, should be “faithfully admonished no matter who he might be.” Concerning the former of these two articles, however, we may remark, that a house of correction for the punishment of light women had existed at Erfurt under the Archbishop’s rule, but had been razed to the ground by the very framers of the articles as soon as the peasants entered the town.

The principal thing, in Luther’s opinion, was to place the reins in the hands of the magistrates, so that they may not sit there like an “idol,” “bound hand and foot,” “while the horses saddle and bridle their driver”; on the contrary, the aim of the articles seemed to him to be, to reduce the councillors to be mere figureheads, and to let “the rabble manage everything.”[1056] The “rabble” was just then Luther’s bugbear.

The clergy who had quitted the city addressed, on May 30, a written complaint to the Cardinal of Mayence, with an account of the proceedings. On June 8 they also appealed to Johann, the Saxon Elector, and to Duke George of Saxony, asking for their mediation, since they were the “protectors and liege lords” of their Church. They also did all they could with the council to recover their rights. The councillors were, however, merely rude, and replied that the proud priests might ask as much as they pleased but would get no redress. This was what caused them to complain to their secular protectors that they were being treated worse than the meanest peasant. Duke George advised them to await the result of the negotiations which, as he knew, were proceeding between the town of Erfurt and the Cardinal.

The Lutheran Elector, on the other hand, entered into closer relations with the town-council of Erfurt, accepting with good grace their appeal for help, their protestation of submission and obedience to his rule, and the explicit assurance of the councillors at the Weimar conference, on June 22, “that they would stand by the true and unfeigned Word of God as pious and faithful Christians, and, in support of the same, stake life and limb, with the help of God’s grace.” Thereupon the Elector promised them, on June 23, that, “should they suffer any inconvenience or attack because of the Word of God,” he, as their “liege lord, ruler and protector,” would “stand by them and afford them protection to the best of his ability,” since “the Word of God and the Holy Evangel were likewise dear to him.” In point of fact he did espouse the cause of the inhabitants of Erfurt, though, like Duke George, it was his wish to see a peaceful settlement arrived at between the town and its rightful over-lord.[1057]

The crafty councillors were actually negotiating with the representatives of the Cardinal of Mayence at the very time when they were seeking the protection of Saxony. The over-lord whose rights they had outraged, through his vicar, had made known his peremptory demands to the council on May 26, viz. entire restitution, damages, expulsion of the Lutheran sect, re-establishment of the old worship and payment of an indemnity. In the event of refusal he threatened them with the armed interference of the Swabian League. The threat took effect, for the Swabian League at that time was feared, and disturbers of the peace had had occasion to feel its strength. The hint of armed interference proved all the more effective when Duke George advised the inhabitants of Erfurt to come to terms with the Mayence vicar and abolish Lutheranism, as otherwise they would have to expect “something further.”

The council therefore assumed a conciliatory attitude towards Mayence, and negotiations concerning the restitution to be made were commenced at a conference at Fulda on August 25, 1525. After protracted delays these terminated with the Treaty of Hammelburg on February 5, 1530. This was, “from the political point of view, an utter defeat for the inhabitants of Erfurt.”[1058] The council was not only obliged to recognise the supremacy of the Archbishop, but also to re-erect all buildings which had been destroyed, and to return everything that had been misapplied; in addition to this, for the loss of taxes and other revenues, the council was to pay the Archbishop 2500 gulden, and to the two Collegiate churches, for losses sustained, 1200 marks of fine silver. Both these churches were to be handed over for Catholic worship. The reinstated over-lord, however, declared, for his part, that, “As regards the other churches and matters of faith and ritual, we hereby and on this occasion neither give nor take, sanction nor forbid, anything to any party.”[1059]

Thus the rescinding of the innovations was for the present deferred, and Luther had every reason to be satisfied with what had been effected in a town to which he was attached by many links. How little gratitude he showed to Archbishop Albert, and how fiercely his hatred and animus against the cautious Cardinal would occasionally flame up, will be seen from facts to be mentioned elsewhere.

Among the few Erfurt monks who, though expelled from their monastery, remained true to their profession and to the Church, there was one who attained to a great age and who is mentioned incidentally by Flacius Illyricus. He well remembered the first period of Luther’s life in Erfurt, his zeal for the Church and solicitude for the observance of the Rule.[1060]

When considering Luther’s intervention in Erfurt matters, and his personal action there, one thought obtrudes itself.

When Luther, now quite a different man and in vastly altered circumstances, returned to Erfurt on the occasion of the visit referred to above, is it not likely that he recalled his earlier life at Erfurt, where he had spent happy days of interior contentment, as is shown by the letters he wrote before his priestly ordination? In one of the sermons he delivered there, in October, 1522, he refers to his student days at Erfurt, but it does not appear that he ever seriously reflected on the contrast presented by the convictions he held at that time on the Church and his new ideas on faith and works. His allusions to his Erfurt recollections are neither serious nor grateful towards his old school. He speaks scoffingly of his learned Erfurt opponents, some of whom he had been acquainted with previously, as “knights of straw.” “Yes, they prate, we are Doctors and Masters.... Well, if a title settles the matter, I also became a Bachelor here, and then a Master and then again a Bachelor. I also went to school with them, and I know and am convinced that they do not understand their own books.”[1061]

Another circumstance must be taken into account. Whereas in later life he can scarcely speak of his early years as a monk without telling his hearers how he had passed from an excessive though purely exterior holiness-by-works to his great discovery, viz. to the knowledge of a gracious God, in 1522 he is absolutely silent regarding these “inward experiences”; yet his very theme, viz. the contrast between the new Evangel and the “sophistical holiness-by-works” preferred by Catholics, and likewise the familiar Erfurt scene of his early life as a monk, should, one would think, have invited him to speak of the matter here.[1062]

While Luther was seeking to expel by force the popish “wolves,” more especially the monks and nuns, from the places within reach of the new Evangel, an enemy was growing up in his own camp in the shape of the so-called fanatics; their existence can be traced back as far as his Wartburg days, and his first misunderstanding with Carlstadt; these, by their alliance with Carlstadt, who had been won over to their ideas, and with the help of men like Thomas Münzer, had of late greatly increased their power, thanks to the social conditions which were so favourable to their cause.