1545. IMPERIAL DIET OF WORMS
Such were the emperor's views when the Imperial diet, after several
prorogations, was opened at Worms [March 24].
The protestants, who enjoyed the
free exercise of their religion by a very precarious tenure, having no other
security for it than the recess of the last diet, which was to continue in
force only until the meeting of a council, wished earnestly to establish that
important privilege upon some firmer basis, and to hold it by a perpetual not a
temporary title. But instead of offering them any additional security,
Ferdinand opened the diet with observing that there were two points which
chiefly required consideration, the prosecution of the war against the Turks,
and the state of religion; that the former was the most urgent, as Solyman,
after conquering the greatest part of Hungary; was now ready to fall upon the
Austrian provinces; that the emperor, who, from the beginning of his reign, had
neglected no opportunity of annoying this formidable enemy, and with the hazard
of his own person had resisted his attacks, being animated still with the same
zeal, had now consented to stop short in the career of his success against
France, that, in conjunction with his ancient rival, he might turn his arms
with greater vigour against the common adversary of the Christian faith; that
it became all the members of the empire to second those pious endeavors of its
head; that, therefore, they ought, without delay, to vote him such effectual
aid as not only their duty but their interest called upon them to furnish; that
the controversies about religion were so intricate, and of such difficult
discussion, as to give no hope of its being possible to bring them at present
to any final issue; that by perseverance and repeated solicitations the emperor
had at length prevailed on the pope to call a council, for which they had so often
wished and petitioned; that the time appointed for its meeting was now come,
and both parties ought to wait for its decrees, and submit to them as the
decisions of the universal church.
The
popish members of the diet received this declaration with great applause, and
signified their entire acquiescence in every particular which it contained. The
protestants expressed great surprise at propositions, which were so manifestly
repugnant to the recess of the former diet; they insisted that the questions
with regard to religion, as first in dignity and importance, ought to come
first under deliberation; that, alarming as the progress of the Turks was to
all Germany, the securing the free exercise of their religion touched them
still more nearly, nor could they prosecute a foreign war with spirit, while
solicitous and uncertain about their domestic tranquility; that if the latter
were once rendered firm and permanent, they would concur with their countrymen
in pushing the former, and yield to none of them in activity or zeal. But if
the danger from the Turkish aims was indeed so imminent, as not to admit of
such a delay as would be occasioned by an immediate examination of the
controverted points in religion, they required that a diet should be instantly
appointed, to which the final settlement of their religious disputes should be
referred; and that in the mean time the decree of the former diet concerning
religion should be explained in a point which they deemed essential. By the
recess of Spires it was provided, that they should enjoy unmolested the public
exercise of their religion, until the meeting of a legal council; but as the
pope had now called a council, to which Ferdinand had required them to submit,
they began to suspect that their adversaries might take advantage of an
ambiguity in the terms of the recess, and pretending that the event therein
mentioned had now taken place, might pronounce them to be no longer entitled to
the same indulgence. In order to guard against this interpretation, they renewed
their former remonstrances against a council called to meet without the bounds
of the empire, summoned by the pope's authority, and in which lie assumed the
right of presiding; and declared that, notwithstanding the convocation of any
such illegal assembly, they still held the recess of the late diet to be in
full force.
At
other junctures, when the emperor thought it of advantage to soothe and gain
the protestants, he had devised expedients for giving them satisfaction with
regard to demands seemingly more extravagant; but his views at present being
very different, Ferdinand, by his command, adhered inflexibly to his first
propositions, and would make no concessions which had the most remote tendency
to throw discredit on the council, or to weaken its authority. The protestants,
on their part, were no less inflexible; and after much time spent in fruitless
endeavors to convince each other, they came to no agreement. Nor did the
presence of the emperor, who upon his recovery arrived at Worms [May 15], contribute
in any degree to render the protestants more compliant. Fully convinced that
they were maintaining the cause of God and of truth, they showed themselves
superior to the allurements of interest, or the suggestions of fear; and in
proportion as the emperor redoubled his solicitations, or discovered his
designs, their boldness seems to have increased. At last they openly declared,
that they would not even deign to vindicate their tenets in presence of a
council, assembled not to examine, but to condemn them; and that they would pay
no regard to an assembly held under the influence of a pope, who had already
precluded himself from all title to act as a judge, by his having stigmatized
their opinions with the name of heresy, and denounced against them the heaviest
censures, which, in the plenitude of his usurped power, he could inflict.
While
the protestants, with such union as well as firmness, rejected all intercourse
with the council, and refused their assent to the Imperial demands, in respect
to the Turkish war, Maurice of Saxony alone showed an inclination to gratify
the emperor with regard to both. Though he professed an inviolable regard for
the protestant religion, be assumed an appearance of moderation peculiar to
himself, by which he confirmed the favorable sentiments which the emperor
already entertained of him, and gradually paved the way for executing the
ambitious designs which always occupied his active and enterprising mind. His
example, however, had little influence upon such as agreed with him in their
religious opinions; and Charles perceived that he could not hope either to
procure present aid from the protestants against the Turks, or to quiet their
fears and jealousies on account of their religion. But as his schemes were not
yet ripe for execution, nor his preparations so far advanced that he could
force the compliance of the protestants, or punish their obstinacy, he artfully
concealed his own intentions. That he might augment their security, he [August
4] appointed a diet to be held at Ratisbon early next year, in order to adjust
what was now left undetermined; and previous to it, he agreed that a certain
number of divines of each party should meet, in order to confer upon the points
in dispute.
But,
how far soever this appearance of a desire to maintain the present tranquility
might have imposed upon the protestants, the emperor was incapable of such
uniform and thorough dissimulation, as to hide altogether from their view the
dangerous designs which he was meditating against them. Herman count de Wied,
archbishop and elector of Cologne, a prelate conspicuous for his virtue and primitive
simplicity of manners, though not more distinguished for learning than the
other descendants of noble families, who in that age possessed most of the
great benefices in Germany, having become a proselyte to the doctrines of the
reformers, had begun in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-three,
with the assistance of Melanchthon and Bucer, to abolish the ancient
superstition in his diocese, and to introduce in its place the rites
established among the protestants. But the canons of his cathedral, who were
not possessed with the same spirit of innovation, and who foresaw how fatal the
leveling genius of the new sect would prove to their dignity and wealth,
opposed, from the beginning, this unprecedented enterprise of their archbishop,
with all the zeal flowing from reverence for old institutions, heightened by
concern for their own interest. This opposition, which the archbishop considered
only as a new argument to demonstrate the necessity of a reformation, neither
shook his resolution, nor slackened his ardor in prosecuting his plan. The
canons, perceiving all their endeavors to check his career to be ineffectual,
solemnly protested against his proceedings, and appealed for redress to the
pope and emperor, the former as ecclesiastical, the latter as his civil
superior. This appeal being laid before the emperor, during his residence in
Worms, he took the canons of Cologne under his immediate protection; enjoined
them to proceed with rigor against all who revolted from the established church;
prohibited the archbishop to make any innovation in his diocese; and summoned
him to appear at Brussels within thirty days, to answer the accusations which should
be preferred against him.
To
this clear evidence of his hostile intentions against the protestant party,
Charles added other proofs still more explicit. In his hereditary dominions of
the Low-Countries, he persecuted all who were suspected of Lutheranism with
unrelenting rigor. As soon as he arrived at Worms, he silenced the protestant
preachers in that city. He allowed an Italian monk to inveigh against the
Lutherans from the pulpit of his chapel, and to call upon him, as he regarded
the favor of God, to exterminate that pestilent heresy. He despatched the
embassy, which has been already mentioned, to Constantinople, with overtures of
peace, that he might be free from any apprehension of danger or interruption
from that quarter. Nor did any of these steps, or their dangerous tendency,
escape the jealous observation of the protestants, or fail to alarm their
fears, and to excite their solicitude for the safety of their sect.
Meanwhile,
Charles's good fortune, which predominated on all occasions over that of his
rival Francis, extricated him out of a difficulty, from which, with all his
sagacity and address, he would have found it no easy matter to have
disentangled himself. Just about the time when the duke of Orleans should have
received Ferdinand’s daughter in marriage, and together with her the possession
of the Milanese, he died of a malignant fever [Sept. 8]. By this event, the
emperor was freed from the necessity of giving up a valuable province into the
hands of an enemy, or from the indecency of violating a recent and solemn
engagement, which must have occasioned an immediate rupture with France. He
affected, however, to express great sorrow for the untimely death of a young
prince, who was to have been so nearly allied to him; but he carefully avoided
entering into any fresh discussions concerning the Milanese; and would not
listen to a proposal which came from Francis of new-modeling the treaty of
Crespy, so as to make him some reparation for the advantages which he had lost
by the demise of his son. In the more active and vigorous part of Francis's
reign, a declaration of war would have been the certain and instantaneous
consequence of such a flat refusal to comply with a demand seemingly so
equitable; but the declining state of his own health, the exhausted condition
of his kingdom, together with the burden of the war against England, obliged
him, at present, to dissemble his resentment, and to put off thoughts of
revenge to some other juncture. In consequence of this event, the unfortunate
duke of Savoy lost all hope of obtaining the restitution of his territories;
and the rights or claims relinquished by the treaty of Crespy returned in full
force to the crown of France, to serve as pretexts for future wars.
Upon
the first intelligence of the duke of Orleans' death, the confederates of
Smalkalde flattered themselves that time essential alterations which appeared
to be unavoidable consequences of it could hardly fail of producing a rupture,
which would prove the means of their safety. But they were not more
disappointed with regard to this, than in their expectations from an event
which seemed to be the certain prelude of a quarrel between the emperor and the
pope. When Paul, whose passion for aggrandizing his family increased as he
advanced in years, and as he saw the dignity and power which they derived
immediately from him becoming more precarious, found that he could not bring
Charles to approve of his ambitious schemes, he ventured to grant his son Peter
Lewis the investiture of Parma and Placentia, though at the risk of incurring
the displeasure of the emperor. At a time when a great part of Europe inveighed
openly against the corrupt manners and exorbitant power of ecclesiastics, and
when a council was summoned to reform the disorders in the church, this
indecent grant of such a principality, to a son, of whose illegitimate birth
the pope ought to have been ashamed, and whose licentious morals all good men
detested, gave general offence. Some cardinals in the Imperial interest
remonstrated against such an unbecoming alienation of the patrimony of the
church; the Spanish ambassador would not be present at the solemnity of his
infeoffment; and upon pretext that these cities were part of the Milanese
state, the emperor peremptorily refused to confirm the deed of investiture. But
both the emperor and pope being intent upon one common object in Germany, they
sacrificed their particular passions to that public cause, and suppressed the
emotions of jealousy or resentment which were rising on this occasion, that
they might jointly pursue what each deemed to be of greater importance.
About
this time the peace of Germany was disturbed by a violent but short eruption of
Henry duke of Brunswick. This prince, though still stript of his dominions,
which the emperor held in sequestration, until his differences with the
confederates of Smalkalde should be adjusted, possessed however so much credit
in Germany, that he undertook to raise for the French king a considerable body
of troops to be employed in the war against England. The money stipulated for
this purpose was duly advanced by Francis; the troops were levied; but Henry,
instead of leading them towards France, suddenly entered his own dominions at
their head, in hopes of recovering possession of them before any army could be
assembled to oppose him. The confederates were not more surprised at this
unexpected attack, than the king of France was astonished at a mean thievish
fraud, so unbecoming the character of a prince. But the landgrave of Hesse,
with incredible expedition, collected as many men as put a stop to the progress
of Henry's undisciplined forces, and being joined by his son-in-law, Maurice,
and by some troops belonging to the elector of Saxony, he gained such
advantages over Henry, who was rash and bold in forming his schemes, but feeble
and undetermined in executing them, as obliged him to disband his army, and to
surrender himself, together with his eldest son, prisoners at discretion. He
was kept inclose confinement, until a new reverse of affairs procured him
liberty.
As
this defeat of Henry's wild enterprise added new reputation to the arms of the
protestants, the establishment of the protestant religion in the palatinate
brought a great accession of strength to their party. Frederick, who succeeded
his brother Lewis in that electorate, had long been suspected of a secret
propensity to the doctrines of the reformers, which, upon his accession to the
principality, he openly manifested. But as he expected that something effectual
towards a general and legal establishment of religion, would be the fruit of
so many diets, conferences, and negotiations, he did not, at first, attempt any
public innovation in his dominions. Finding all these issue in nothing, he
thought himself called, at length [Jan. 10, 1546], to countenance by his
authority the system which he approved of, and to gratify the wishes of his
subjects, who, by their intercourse with the protestant states, had almost
universally imbibed their opinions. As the warmth and impetuosity, which
accompanied the spirit of reformation in its first efforts, had somewhat
abated, this change was made with great order and regularity; the ancient rites
were abolished, and new forms introduced, without any acts of violence, or
symptom of discontent. Though Frederick adopted the religious system of the protestants,
he imitated the example of Maurice, and did not accede to the league of
Smalkalde.
A
few weeks before this revolution in the palatinate, the general council was
opened with the accustomed solemnities at Trent. The eyes of the catholic
states were turned with much expectation towards an assembly, which all had
considered as capable of applying an effectual remedy for the disorders of the
church when they first broke out, though many were afraid that it was now too
late to hope for great benefit from it, when the malady, by being suffered to
increase during twenty-eight years, had become inveterate, and grown to such
extreme violence. The pope, by his last bull of convocation, had appointed the
first meeting to be held in March. But his views and those of the emperor were
so different, that almost the whole year was spent in negotiations. Charles,
who foresaw that the rigorous decrees of the council against the protestants
would soon drive them, in self-defence as well as from resentment, to some desperate
extreme, labored to put off its meeting until his warlike preparations were so
far advanced, that he might be in a condition to second its decisions by the
force of his arms. The pope, who had early sent to Trent the legates who were
to preside in his name, knowing to what contempt it would expose his
authority, and what suspicions it would beget of his intentions, if the fathers
of the council should remain in a state of inactivity, when the church was in
such danger as to require their immediate and vigorous interposition, insisted
either upon translating the council to some city in Italy, or upon suspending
altogether its proceedings at that juncture, or upon authorizing it to begin its
deliberations immediately. The emperor rejected the two former expedients as
equally offensive to the Germans of every denomination; but finding it
impossible to elude the latter, he proposed that the council should begin with
reforming the disorders in the church, before it proceeded to examine or define
articles of faith. This was the very thing which the court of Rome dreaded
most, and which had prompted it to employ so many artifices in order to prevent
the meeting of such a dangerous judicatory. Paul, though more compliant than
some of his predecessors with regard to calling a council, was no less jealous
than they had been of its jurisdiction, and saw what matter of triumph such a
method of proceeding would afford the heretics. He apprehended consequences not
only humbling but fatal to the papal see, if the council came to consider an
inquest into abuses as their only business; or if inferior prelates were
allowed to gratify their own envy and peevishness, by prescribing rules to
those who arc exalted above them in dignity and power. Without listening,
therefore, to this insidious proposal of the emperor, he instructed his legates
to open the council.
Jan.
18. THE OPENING OF THE COUNCIL OF TRENT