He was, however, by no means so dependent on those about him as might have been supposed. His counsellors, in the general interests of his government, pursued an independent line of policy, and Charles himself, even in these his youthful days, knew to assert his independence as a monarch and display his cleverness as a statesman.
But a German he was not, in spite of his grandfather Maximilian; he had not even an ordinary knowledge of the German language. First and foremost, he was King of Spain and Naples; in his Spanish kingdom he retained, even after his accession to the imperial dignity, the chief basis of his power. His religious training and education had familiarised him only with the strict orthodoxy of the Church and his duties in respect to her traditional ordinances. To these his conscience also constrained him to adhere. He never showed any inclination to investigate the opposite opinions of his German subjects, at least with any independent or critical exercise of judgment. A strict regard to his rights and duties as a sovereign was his sole guide, next to his religious principles, in dictating his conduct towards the Church. In Spain some reforms were being then introduced, based essentially on the doctrines and hierarchical constitution of the mediaeval Church. Stricter discipline, in particular, was observed with regard to the clergy and monks, who were admonished to attend more faithfully to their duties of promoting the moral and religious welfare of the people; and the result was seen in a revival of popular interest in the forms and ordinances of religion. Furthermore, the crown enjoyed certain rights independently of the Roman Curia: an absolute monarchy was here ingeniously united with Papal absolutism. Such a union, however, sufficed in itself to make any severance of the German Church from the Papacy impossible under Charles V. The unity of his dominions was bound up with the unity of the Catholic Church, to which his subjects, alike in Spain and Germany, belonged. Added to this, he had to consider his foreign policy. Provoked as he had been by Leo X., who had leagued with France to prevent his election, still, with menaces of war from France, he saw the prudence of cultivating friendship, and contracting, if possible, an alliance with the Pope. The pressure desirable for this purpose could now be supplied by means of the very danger with which the Papacy was threatened by the great German heresy, and against which Rome so sorely needed the aid of a temporal power. At the same time, Charles was far too astute to allow his regard for the Pope, and his desire for the unity of the Church, to entangle his policy in measures for which his own power was inadequate, or by which his authority might be shaken, and possibly destroyed. Strengthened as was his monarchical power in Spain, in Germany he found it hemmed in and fettered by the Estates of the Empire and the whole contexture of political relations.
Such were the main points of view which determined for Charles V. his conduct towards Luther and his cause. Luther thus was at least a passive sharer in the game of high policy, ecclesiastical and temporal, now being played, and had to pursue his own course accordingly.
The imperial court was quickly enough acquainted with the state of feeling in Germany. The Emperor showed himself prudent at this juncture, and accessible to opinions differing from his own, however small cause his proclamations gave to the friends of Luther to hope for any positive act of favour on his part.
Whilst Charles was on his way up the Rhine, to hold, at the beginning of the New Year, a Diet at Worms, the Elector Frederick approached him with the request that Luther should at least be heard before the Emperor took any proceedings against him. The Emperor informed him in reply that he might bring Luther for this purpose to Worms, promising that the monk should not be molested. The Elector, however, felt doubts on this point: possibly he thought of the danger to which Huss had been exposed at Constance. But Luther, to whom he announced through Spalatin the Emperor's offer, replied immediately, 'If I am summoned, I will, so far as I am concerned, come; even if I have to be carried there ill; for no man can doubt that, if the Emperor calls me, I am called by the Lord.' Violence, he said, would no doubt be offered him; but God still lived, who had delivered the three youths from the fiery furnace at Babylon, and if it was not His will that he should be saved, his head was of little value. There was one thing only to beseech of God, that the Emperor might not commence his reign by shedding innocent blood to shield ungodliness: he would far rather perish by the hands of the Romanists alone. Some time before, Luther had thought of a place to fly to, in case it were impossible to stay at Wittenberg; Bohemia was always open to him. But now he roundly declared, 'I will not fly, still less can I recant.'
Meanwhile the Emperor began to reflect whether Luther, who lay already under the ban and interdict, ought to be admitted to the place of the Diet. As to what proceedings should be taken against him, if he came, long, wavering, and anxious negotiations now took place between the Emperor, the Estates, and the legate Aleander, at Worms, where the Estates assembled in January, and the Diet was opened on the 28th.
A Papal brief demanded the Emperor to enforce the bull, by which Luther was now definitely condemned, by an imperial edict. In vain, he wrote, had God girded him with the sword of supreme earthly power, if he did not use it against heretics, who were even worse than infidels. His advisers, however, were agreed in the conviction that he could not move in this matter without the consent of his Estates. Aleander sought to gain them over in an elaborate harangue. He, according to whose principles the appeal to a Council was a crime, cleverly diverted from himself the comparison and retort which his present arguments suggested, and insisted all the more on his complaint, that Luther always despised the authority of Councils and would take no correction from anyone. Glapio, then the Emperor's confessor and diplomatist, addressed himself, with expressions of wonderful friendship, to Frederick's chancellor, Brück. Even he found much that was good in Luther's writings, but the contents of his book, the 'Babylonian Captivity,' were detestable. All that need be done was that Luther should disclaim or retract that offensive work, so that what was good in his writings might bear fruit for the Church, and Luther, together with the Emperor, might co-operate in the work of true reform. He might be invited to meet some learned, impartial men at a suitable place, and submit himself to their judgment. This, at all events, would be a happy means of preventing his having to appear before the Emperor and the Estates of the Empire, and if he persisted in refusing to recant, of deciding then and there his fate. We must leave it an open question, how far Glapio still seriously thought it possible, by dint of threats and entreaties, to utilise Luther for effecting a reform in the Spanish sense, and as an instrument against any Pope who should prove hostile to the Emperor. But the Elector Frederick would undertake no responsibility in this dark design: he refused flatly to grant to Glapio the private audience he desired.
The Emperor acceded so far to the urgency of the Pope as to cause a draft mandate to be laid before the Estates, proposing that Luther should be arrested, and his protectors punished for high treason. The Frankfort deputy wrote home: 'The monk makes plenty of work. Some would gladly crucify him, and I fear he will hardly escape them; only they must take care that he does not rise again on the third day.' After seven days' excited debate in the Diet, in which the Elector took a prominent and lively part, an answer to the imperial mandate was at length agreed upon, offering for consideration 'whether, inasmuch as Luther's preaching, doctrines, and writings had awakened among the common people all kinds of thoughts, fancies, and desires, any good result or advantage would accrue from issuing the mandate alone in all its stringency, without first having cited Luther before them and heard him.' At the same time, his examination was to be so far restricted, that no discussion with him should be allowed, but simply the question put to him, 'whether or not he intended to insist upon the writings he had published against our holy Christian faith.' If he retracted them, he should be heard further on other points and matters, and dealt with in all equity upon them. If, on the contrary, he persisted in all or any of the articles at variance with the faith, then all the Estates of the Empire should, without further disputation, adhere to and help to maintain the faith handed down by their fathers, and the imperial edict should then go abroad throughout the land.
The Emperor, accordingly, on March 6, issued a citation to Luther, summoning him to Worms, to give 'information concerning his doctrines and books.' An imperial herald was sent to conduct him. In the event of his disobeying the citation, or refusing to retract, the Estates declared their consent to treat him as an open heretic.
Luther, therefore, had to renounce at once all hope of having the truth touching his articles of faith tested fairly at Worms by the standard of God's word in Scripture. Spalatin indicated to him the points on which, according to Glapio's statement, he would in any case be expected to make a public recantation.