Editor’s Note: This is the final article in a sixteen-part series on the life and times of Martin Luther. As we pause to meditate on the lives of Martin Luther and Charles V, what a striking contrast can be seen. Can we have the slightest doubt who was the greatest? The one, sitting in his closet, sent forth words which shook into ruin ancient systems of superstitious religion, rending the shackles from the consciences of men, and saying to the slave, “Be free.” He gave sight to the spiritually blind, raised up the fallen, and cast down the mighty. He led hearts captive, and plucked up and planted kingdoms. It was a God-like power which he exercised, because he trusted not in the arm of flesh, but in God’s Word.
When we look at the emperor in his magnificent palace, we find a totally different and far inferior set of forces at work. Before Charles V could achieve anything, he had to gather an army, collect great sums of wealth, blow his trumpets, and beat his kettle-drums; yet how little of real importance did he obtain from all of his bloodshed! Cities and provinces called him master, but waited for the first opportunity to throw off his yoke. What truth did he establish which can mold the lives of men and be a blessing in ages to come? It is now that we can see which of these two men exercised real power and which of the two was a true monarch. See The History of Protestantism, part 1, page 568, by J. A. Wylie.
The Schmalkald League
The Augsburg Diet ended in September 1530. On November 19, 1530, the emperor “issued a decree, addressed to the Protestant princes, States and cities, commanding them, under peril of his displeasure, to return to their obedience to the See of Rome, and giving them till the next spring (15th of April) to make their choice between submission and war.” The History of Protestantism, part 1, book 12, 95.
“The edict of the emperor forbade from that hour all further conversions to Protestantism, under pain of forfeiture of goods and life; it further enacted that all which had been taken from the Roman Catholics should be restored; that the monasteries and religious houses should be rebuilt; that the old ceremonies and rites should be observed; and that no one who did not submit to this decree should sit in the Imperial Chamber, the supreme court of judicature in the Empire; and that all classes should assist with their lives and fortunes in carrying out this edict. The edict of Spires was directed mainly against Luther; the ban of Augsburg was wider in its scope; it fell on all who held his opinions in Germany—on princes, cities, and peasants.” Ibid.
Melancthon was filled with dismay and Sleidan describes him as “drowned with sighs and tears.” Luther’s faith rose to the occasion and he faced the obstacles and produced a publication that foretold the failure of the edict. He declared that the emperor’s sword, though strong, could not extinguish the light and bring back the darkness.
Luther’s spirit fired the princes who met at Christmas, 1530, at Schmalkald to decide on the necessary action. They decided that their religion and liberties must be defended at all costs and that it was necessary to form a League. Known as the League of Schmalkald, the princes decided to join together to resist with military might any attempt to carry out the Edict of Augsburg. Their religious liberty was not the only question, since Charles was also involved in schemes that were dangerous to the constitution and civil liberties of Germany as well. The League was renewed the following year at Christmas, 1531, with many cities and princes joining. The Swiss Protestants were repulsed because of their views on the Lord’s Supper. Not long after this, Zwingle died in battle.
Luther was not pleased with the League. He shuddered at anything that would bring the Gospel and war into contact. He was assured that the League was for defensive purposes only and meant to exercise unity and their natural right to self-defense, and so he acquiesced in the League of the princes. It was political entanglements that Luther feared. “He foresaw the League growing strong and beginning to lean on armies, neglecting the development of the religious principle in whose vitality alone would consist the consolidation, power, and success of their federation.” Ibid., 98.
Spring came, but Charles was unable to carry out his threats. The Turks were again threatening war in eastern Europe and in addition, Charles’ old enemy, Francis of France, was making preparations for war against him. He had angered the Popish princes by making his brother Ferdinand, King of the Romans, and he could not turn to them for assistance. “It must have seemed, even to himself, as if a greater power than the Schmalkald Confederacy were fighting against him.” Ibid., 99.
He was forced to make peace with the Protestants and “after tedious and difficult negations, a peace was agreed upon at Nuremberg, July 23rd, and ratified in the Diet at Ratisbon, August 3rd, 1532. In this pacification the emperor granted to the Lutherans the free and undisturbed exercise of their religion, until such time as a General Council or an Imperial Diet should decide the religious question.” The Protestants promised to aid the emperor in war against the Turks, and Charles enjoyed victory over them. Charles then went on to other military projects in his dominions and the Church had rest, which lasted for close to a decade and a half.
The years that followed brought steady growth to the Protestant dominions. Wurtemberg, Brandenburg, and Brunswich were added to the League. By 1542, the whole of central and northern Germany was Protestant. Only Austria, Bavaria, and Palatinate remained with Rome, but great advances were made by Protestantism in these areas also.
Death and Burial of Luther
“The man of all others in Germany who loved peace was Luther. War he abhorred with all the strength of his great soul. He could not conceive a greater calamity befalling his cause than that the sword should be allied with it. Again and again, during the course of his life, when the opposing parties were on the point of rushing to arms the Reformer stepped in, and the sword leapt back into its scabbard. Again war threatens. On every side men are preparing their arms: hosts are mustering, and mighty captains are taking the field. We listen, if haply that powerful voice which had so often dispersed the tempest when the bolt was ready to fall shall once more make itself heard. There comes instead the terrible tidings—Luther is dead!” Ibid., 107.
The Counts of Mansfield had requested that Luther come in January of 1546, to arbitrate a boundary dispute. Luther did not care to meddle in such matters, but, since the matter was in the province of his birth, he consented to go as it would enable him to see his old birthplace once more. He was taken ill on the journey but recovered. On entering the province he was received like a prince.
After settling the dispute to the satisfaction of the counts, he occasionally preached in the church and took Communion, but he had many signs that warned him that he did not have long to live. ” ‘Here I was born and baptized,’ said he to friends, ‘what if I should remain here to die also?’ He was only sixty-three, but continual anxiety, ceaseless and exhausting labour, oft-recurring fits of nervous depression, and cruel maladies had done more than years to waste his strength.” Ibid.
On the 17th of February, after having dinner, he withdrew to pray as was his custom. Pain in his stomach caused him to go to bed early and he awakened in the night with an oppression in his chest and knowing that his life was soon to end. Three times he prayed, each time his voice more faint, confessing his faith and thankfulness to God. ” ‘Into thy hands I commit my spirit; thou hast redeemed me, O God of truth!’ He in a manner gently slept out of this life, without any bodily pain or agony that could be perceived.” Ibid., 107.
“Luther’s career had been a stormy one, yet its end was peace. He had waged incessant battle, not with the emperor and the Pope only, but also with a more dreadful foe, who had often filled his mind with darkness. Yet now he dies expressing his undimmed joy and his undying trust in his Saviour. It is also very remarkable that the man whose life had been so often sought by Popes, kings, priests, and fanatics of every grade, died on his bed. Luther often said that it would be a great disgrace to the Pope if he should so die . . . During the last twenty-five years of his life—that is, ever since his appearance at the Diet of Worms—the emperor’s ban and the Pope’s anathema had hung about him; yet there fell not to the ground a hair of his head . . . To be rid of him Rome would have joyfully given the half of her kingdom; but not a day, not an hour of life was she able to take from him.” Ibid., 109.
John, elector of Saxony, commanded that he should be laid to rest in Wittemberg. The procession grew with each town it passed through. The multitudes sang psalms and hymns. He was buried in the Schloss-kirk of Wittemberg where he had nailed his Theses.
The Schmalkald War and the Defeat of the Protestants
For two years, while Luther was yet alive, war had threatened but was withheld. Now it moved on rapidly as Charles hastened to arrange all of his affairs so that he might deal with the Protestants. He recruited soldiers and made a treaty with Pope Paul III. The Pope payed large sums of money and supplied a great number of soldiers for the battle in Germany.
“Another step toward war, though it looked like conciliation, was the meeting of the long-promised and long deferred Council . . . There had assembled at the little town of Trent some forty prelates, who assumed to represent the Universal Church, and to issue decrees which should be binding on all the countries of Christendom, although Italy and Spain alone were as yet represented in the Council . . . The Council, in its third session, decreed that the traditions of the Fathers are of equal authority with the Scripture . . . and that no one is to presume to interpret the Scriptures in a sense different from that of the Church . . . The Protestants affirmed that the one infallible authority was the Word of God. They made their appeal to the tribunal of Holy Scripture; they could recognize no other judge. The sole supremacy of Scriptures was in fact the corner-stone of their system, and if this great maxim were rejected their whole cause was adjudged and condemned.
“This was another way of saying, ‘you must submit to the Church.’ . . . They were told that they must accept their opponent for their judge . . . The first decree of the Council, then, embraced all that were to follow; . . . thoroughly Popish decisions . . . It was clear that the Fathers had assembled at Trent to pass sentence on the faith of the German people as heresy, and then the emperor would step in with his great sword and give it its death-blow.” Ibid., 113.
While he made great preparations for war, the emperor made even greater claims that he meant only peace. In a meeting with Phillip of Hesse, this prince, who held him most suspect, came to believe that he was indeed intent on peace, and the Protestants were lulled to sleep. It was the Pope who revealed the truth when he published a bull announcing his league with the emperor and their true intent and calling on all the faithful to concur in it. This caused Charles to let down his disguise but he still succeeded in convincing many Protestants that his warlike preparations, though they were indeed for Germany, were not meant to interfere with its religious opinions but to put down the Schmalkald League. Which was, he said, an empire within an empire and so it could not be tolerated by imperial supremacy.
“The pretext was a transparent one, but it enabled the timid, the lukewarm, and the wavering to say, ‘This war does not concern religion, it is a quarrel merely between the emperor and certain members of the League.’ How completely did the aspect the matter now assumed justify the wisdom of the man who had lately been laid in his grave in the Schloss-kirk of Wittemberg! How often had Luther warned the Protestants against the error of shifting their cause from a moral to a political basis! The former, he ever assured them, would, when the day of trial came, be found to have double the strength they had reckoned upon—in fact, to be invincible; whereas the latter, with an imposing show, would be found to have no strength at all.” Ibid., 115.
“On the 20th of July the blow fell . . . The war, now that it had come, found the League neither united nor prepared . . . The campaign, from its commencement in the mid-summer of 1546, to its close in the spring of 1547, was marked, on the part of the League, by vacillation and blundering. There was no foresight shown in laying its plans, no vigor in carrying them out.” Ibid., 116. One of the three leading princes in the League sided with the emperor. The war ended with the remaining two princes, John Frederick and Landgrave Phillip, in prison. Charles stripped them of their title and power, destroyed their castles, confiscated their lands, and lead them about from city to city as a spectacle to their former subjects.
“If, instead of stepping down into the arena of battle, they had offered themselves to the stake, not a tithe of the blood would have been shed that was spilt in the campaign, and instead of being lowered, the moral power of Protestantism thereby would have been immensely raised . . . No greater calamity could have befallen the Reformation than that Protestantism should have become, in that age, a great political power. Had it triumphed as a policy it would have perished as a religion.” Ibid., 117.
The Interim—Reestablishment of Protestantism
Charles then proceeded to frame a creed meant to let Lutheran Germany down easily. Styled as a halfway between Wittemberg and Rome, the “Interim taught, among other things, the supremacy of the Pope, the dogma of transubstantiation, the sacrifice of the mass, the invocation of the saints, auricular confession, justification by works, and the sole right of the Church to interpret the Scriptures; in short, not one concession did Rome make.” Ibid., 118. Protestants were offered two paltry boons. Married clergy would not have to put away their wives, and where the Sacrament was being offered in both types, it could continue to be tolerated.
This document was presented to a Diet at Augsburg on May 15, 1548, where not a single dissenting voice was raised against it. They sat silent before the emperor’s soldiers amassed around the city. “The Interim was straightway promulgated by the emperor: all were to conform to it under pain of his displeasure, and it was to remain in force until a free General Council could be held.” Ibid.
But Charles was to find that his Interim had no friends. The Vatican was sore displeased. “That the emperor in virtue of his sole authority should frame and promulgate a creed was not to be tolerated; it was to do the work of a Council; it was, in fact, to seat himself in the chair of the Pope and to say, ‘I am the Church.’ Besides, the cardinals grudged even the two pitiful concessions which had been made to the Protestants.” Ibid.
There were some areas of Germany where there was open resistance to the Interim while in others everything Protestant was removed. Old rites were restored, Protestant magistrates replaced, and Protestant pastors and their families forced from their homes. Those who did not escape were lead about in chains by their enemies.
“There is one submission that pains us more than all the others. It is that of Melancthon. Melancthon and the Wittemberg divines, laying down the general principles, that where things indifferent only are in question it is right to obey the commands of a lawful superior, and assuming that the Interim, which had been slightly manipulated for their special convenience, conflicted with the Augustan Confession in only indifferent points, and that it was well to preserve the essentials of the Gospel as seed-corn for better times, denied their Protestantism, and bowed down in worship of the emperor’s religion.” Ibid., 119.
“But amid so many prostrate one man stood nobly erect. John Frederick of Saxony, despite the suffering and ignominy that weighed upon him, refused to accept the Interim. Hopes of liberty were held out to induce him to endorse the emperor’s creed, but this only drew from him a solemn protestation of his adherence to the Protestant faith.” Ibid.
Charles believed that Roman Catholicism was the basis of his power and through thirty years of intrigues and wars he held fast to his determination to strike a fatal blow to Protestantism. This blow he had struck. “It was at this moment, when his glory was in its noon, that the whole aspect of affairs around the emperor suddenly changed . . . Not a friend or ally had he who did not now turn on him.” Ibid.
The Pope was alarmed at Charles’ conquests and feared that the Papacy was about to receive a master. He was also offended that he had received none of the spoils of their war. Paul III recalled his army and moved the Council of Trent to Bologna.
The Germans had lost many liberties and they felt deceived. They had been told that the war was not over religious questions and yet their pastors were banished, their churches taken over by mass-priests, and filled with burning tapers and chants and prayers in an unknown tongue. This all told of a promise unkept and to deception was added insult.
Prince Maurice, a professed Protestant who had sided with the emperor for ambition’s sake, now came to know that his defections would cause him to be swept away in the gathering storm. He determined to “atone for his betrayal of his Protestant confederates by treachery to the emperor.” Ibid., 120. He succeeded at length to convince the princes to join him in his schemes to win back the liberties of Germany. He yet had a sizable force in his charge which he was using in Charles’ service to besiege Magdeburg, which was brave in its resistance to the Interim. He was able to convince the citizens of that city to sign the Interim, in order to deceive Charles, while he secretly promised that they would never be deprived of their religious freedoms, and he convinced King Henry of France to move in from the south. All of this was done with masterly skill and secrecy.
At Innspruck, Charles was lulled into security by Maurice’s artifices. His campaigns had exhausted his money-chest and he had only a handful of guards at his side when the revolt broke out in March of 1552. He was hemmed in on every side. The Turks were watching by sea, the French to the south, before him was the angry Pope and behind was Maurice “pushing on by secret and forced marches, ‘to catch,’ as he irreverently said, ‘the fox in his hole.’ And probably he would have done as he said, had not a mutiny broken out among his troops on the journey, which, by delaying his march on Innspruck, gave Charles time to learn with astonishment that all Germany had risen, and was in full march upon Innspruck. The emperor had no alternative but flight.” Ibid., 121. The emperor was suffering from gout and had to be carried on a litter over rugged mountain paths by light of torches. Maurice entered Innspruck just hours after his prey had escaped. “The emperor’s power collapsed when apparently at its zenith.” Ibid. He was forced to sue for peace.
“There followed, in July, the Peace of Passau. The main article in that treaty was that the Protestants should enjoy the free and undisturbed possession of their religion till such time as a Diet of all the States should effect a permanent arrangement, and that failing such a Diet the present agreement should remain in force for ever. This was followed by the Treaty of Augsburg in 1555. This last ratified and enlarged the privileges conceded to the Protestants in the pacification of Passau, and gave a legal right to the Augustan Confession to exist side by side with the creed of the Romish Church. The ruling idea of the Middle Ages, that one form of religion only could exist in a country, was abandoned . . . The members of the Reformed Church, the followers of Zwingle and Calvin, were excluded from the privileges secured in the treaties of Passau and Augsburg, nor was legal toleration extended to them till the Peace of Westphalia, a century later.” Ibid., 122.
So Charles was unable to extinguish the light of Protestantism. “Hundreds of thousands of lives had he sacrificed and millions of money had he squandered in the contest, but Protestantism, so far from being extinguished, had enlarged its area, and multiplied its adherents four-fold.” Ibid. And Charles, with a nearly empty treasury, his prestige diminished, and revolt on every side of his dominions, chose to abdicate in favor of his son Phillip. He retired to a Spanish monastery and ended his days nearly friendless in a sparsely furnished apartment spending his time in gardening and trying to reconcile the differences in his clocks which he was never able to make strike together.
The End