The Emperor Charles V., alarmed by this protest, after several long interviews with the pope, assembled a new diet at Augsburg in April, 1530. Hoping by menaces or bribes to silence the voice of Protestantism, he assumed the air of candor. “I have convened,” he said, “this assembly to consider the difference of opinion upon the subject of religion. It is my intention to hear both parties impartially, to examine their respective arguments, and to reform what requires to be reformed, that there may be in future only one pure and simple faith, and that, as all are the disciples of the same Jesus, all may form one and the same church.”
The Protestants appointed Luther and Melancthon to draw up a confession of their faith. Luther was a stern, unyielding man: Melancthon was amiable and pliant. Though they agreed in their confession, it did not exactly suit either. It was a little too yielding for Luther, and too uncompromising for Melancthon. Subsequently the document was revised byMelancthon, and somewhat softened to meet his own views. As thus modified, it was adopted by the German people who took the title of German Reformed. The Lutherans adhered to the original document.
The emperor, in co-operation with the pope, now threw off the mask, and resolved by force of arms to compel all to conform to the doctrines and usages of the Papal Church. He began to gather his armies to crush the Protestants. They entered into a league for mutual protection. A civil, religious war was just about to burst upon Germany, when the Turks, with an army three hundred thousand strong, commenced the ascent of the Danube. The emperor, alarmed by this terrible invasion, was compelled to call upon the Protestants for aid; but they feared the dungeons and flame of the Papal Inquisition more than they did the cimeter of the Turk. They knew full well, that, as soon as the Turks were repelled, the emperor would turn the energies of his sword against them. Still Germany, Protestant and Catholic, had every thing to fear from the ravages and outrages of the barbarian Turk.
After long negotiations, the Protestants consented to co-operate with the emperor in repelling the invasion, upon receiving his solemn pledge to grant them freedom of conscience and of worship. Charles was astonished at the energy with which the Protestants came forward to the war. They even tripled the contingents which they had promised, and fell upon the invaders with such intrepidity as to drive them back pell-mell to the banks of the Bosphorus. Charles then, in violation of his pledge, began to proceed against the Protestants. But they, armed, organized, and flushed with victory, were in no mood to submit to this perfidy. Some of the more considerate of the Papal party, foreseeing the torrents of blood that must flow, and the uncertain issue of the conflict, succeeded in promoting a compromise.
Still Charles was merely temporizing. He at once entered into vigorous efforts to marshal a force sufficiently powerful to crush the Protestants. He concluded a truce with the Turks for five years; he formed a league with Francis King ofFrance, who promised him the whole military force of his kingdom. In the mean time, the Protestants were busy wielding those moral powers more potent than sabres or artillery, than chains or flames. Eloquent preachers were everywhere proclaiming the corruptions of the Papacy. The new doctrines of the Protestants involved the principles of civil as well as religious liberty. The most intelligent and conscientious all over Europe were rapidly embracing the new doctrine. Several of the ablest of the Catholic bishops espoused the Protestant cause. The emperor was quite appalled when he learned that the Archbishop of Cologne, who was one of the electors of the empire, had joined the Protestants. So many of the German princes had adopted the principles of the Reformation, that they had a majority in the electoral diet. In Switzerland, also, Protestantism had won the majority of the people. Still, throughout Europe, Catholicism was in the vast ascendency.
Charles resolved to attempt by stratagem that which he recoiled from undertaking by force. He proposed to the Protestants that a general council should be convened at Trent, and that each party should pledge itself to abide by the decision of a majority of votes. The council, however, was to be summoned by the pope; and Charles, by co-operation with the pope, had made arrangements that the overwhelming majority of the council should be opposed to the reformers. The Protestants, of course, rejected so silly a proposition.
Still the emperor and the pope resolved to hold the council, and to enforce its decrees by their armies. The pope furnished the emperor with thirteen thousand troops and over a million of dollars. Charles raised two large armies of his own subjects,—one in the Low Countries, and one in the States of Austria. His brother Ferdinand, King of Hungary and of Bohemia, also raised two armies of co-operation, one from each of those countries. The King of France mustered his confederate legions, and loudly proclaimed that the day of vengeance had come, in which the Protestants were to be annihilated. The pope issued a decree, in which he offered the pardon ofall their sins to those who should engage in this war of extermination of the Protestants.
The reformers were in consternation: the forces marshalled against them seemed to be resistless. But Providence does not always side with the heavy battalions. With energy which surprised both themselves and their foes, they raised an army of eighty thousand men, nearly every individual of whom was a hero, fully comprehending the cause for which he had drawn the sword, and ready to lay down his life in its defence. Battles ensued, blood flowed, and a wail of misery spread over the unhappy realms, which we have no space here to describe. Charles was apparently triumphant. He crushed the Protestant league, subjected the pope to his will, and was about to convene a council to confirm all he had done, when wide-spread disaffection, which had long been slumbering, blazed forth all over the German empire.
The intolerance of the haughty monarch caused a general burst of indignation against him. Maurice, King of Saxony, which was the most powerful State of the Germanic confederacy, headed the insurrection. France, annoyed by the arrogance of the emperor, readily joined the standard of Maurice. The Protestants in crowds flocked to his ranks; for he had issued a declaration that he had taken up arms to prevent the destruction of the Protestant religion, to defend the liberties of Germany, and to rescue from the dungeon innocent men imprisoned for their faith alone. Nominal Catholics were found shoulder to shoulder in co-operation with the Protestants. Whole provinces rushed to join this army. Maurice was regarded as the advocate of civil and religious liberty. Imperial towns threw open their gates joyfully to Maurice. In one month, the aspect of every thing was changed.
The Catholic ecclesiastics, who were assembling at Trent, alarmed at this new attitude of affairs, dissolved the assembly, and fled precipitately to their homes. The emperor was at Innspruck—seated in his arm-chair, with his limbs bandaged in flannel, enfeebled, and suffering from a severe attack of the gout—when the intelligence of this sudden and overwhelmingreverse reached him. He was astonished, and utterly confounded. In weakness and pain, unable to leave his couch, with his treasury exhausted, his army widely scattered, and so pressed by their foes that they could not be concentrated, there was nothing left for him but to endeavor to beguile Maurice into a truce. But Maurice was as much at home in all the arts of cunning as was the emperor, and, instead of being beguiled, contrived to entrap his antagonist. This was a new and very salutary experience for Charles. It is a very novel sensation for a successful rogue to be the dupe of roguery.