Luther, vol. 6 of 6

CHAPTER XXXIX
END OF LUTHER’S LIFE

1. The Flight from Wittenberg

“Old age is here,” so wrote Luther in a fit of depression to his Elector on March 30, 1544, in his sixty-first year; “old age which in itself is cold and ungainly, weak and sickly. The pitcher goes to the well until one fine day it breaks; I have lived long enough, may God grant me a happy deathbed.… Methinks, too, I have already seen the best I am like to see on earth, for it looks as though evil days were coming. May God help His own! Amen.” He recommends his sovereign to seek comfort in the “Dear Word of God” and in prayer, assuring him: “These two unspeakable treasures shall never be the portion of the devil, the Turk, or of the Pope and his followers.”[1272]

About this time he had to complain of palpitations, dizziness and calculus. His will he had already drawn up on Jan. 6, 1542.[1273] In it he refused to make use of the usual legal forms, being determined to have nothing to do with the lawyers, with whom he was always at variance. He was quite aware that lawyers still insisted on the objections to the validity of the marriages of clerics and monks and the rights of inheritance of their children, as they indeed were bound to do not only by Canon Law but also by the law of the Empire.

How cheerfully he was inclined to look forward to death even the year before is apparent from a letter to Myconius, “the bishop of the Churches of Gotha and Thuringia,” who was then lying seriously ill; here he says: “I pray our Lord Jesus not to call to everlasting rest you and our followers and leave me here among the devils to be still longer tormented by them. Truly I have been long enough plagued by them and really I deserve that my turn should come before yours. Hence my prayer is: May the Lord lay your illness upon me and rid me of my earthly habitation which is so useless, worn-out and exhausted. I see right well that I am no longer good for anything.”[1274]

After his above farewell-letter to the Elector Luther’s thoughts reverted to death more frequently than before. He cast up the books he had still to write and took stock of his powers to see whether he would have time to finish them. For his energy and spirit of enterprise were by no means yet dead, though at times they seem to be paralysed. Often enough he pulls himself together in his letters sufficiently to make jokes with his friends, the better both to banish his own gloomy thoughts and to inspire the addressees with greater courage and confidence. Nevertheless, through it all, we can detect his disquiet and suffering.

Luther’s extant letters covering the period from May to December, 1545, afford us an insight into the emotions through which he passed.

From the month of May onwards he sank deeper and deeper into a dreary state of annoyance and sadness, and, at last, at the end of July, he shook the dust of Wittenberg from his feet. In the latter half of August, after he had allowed himself to be persuaded to return, his spirits rapidly revived, and such was the reaction that his new mystical ardour knew no bounds while his exertions seem almost incredible.

When his physical sufferings diminished there came to his mind the recollection of how, more than a year before, early in 1544, he had determined to leave Wittenberg, of which he had sickened, in order to seek a more peaceful life elsewhere. It was only the extraordinary exertions of his friends that had then succeeded in keeping him back. Bugenhagen and the other preachers, the University and the magistrates, had besought him with tears and entreaties. On that occasion he was “incensed,” so Cruciger, his friend and pupil, says, “at some trivial matter, or rather he was full of suspicion about us all, as I believe.”[1301] Already in 1530, and again in 1539, he had declared that, owing to the annoyance given him, he would never again mount the pulpit at Wittenberg.[1302] Now, however, his chagrin was even deeper and he resolved to carry out his plan prudently and quit the town for ever.

Without acquainting even Catherine Bora of the length of his absence from the town he left Wittenberg at the end of July accompanied by his son Hans, his guest Ferdinand von Maupis, travelling with Cruciger, who was to decide a quarrel between Medler and Mohr, the two Naumburg preachers at Zeitz, on July 27. Luther also repaired to Zeitz and took part in the negotiations, but instead of returning with Cruciger to Wittenberg, he wrote a letter to Katey from Zeitz on the 28th,[1303] stating that he had no intention of returning to Wittenberg. “My heart has grown cold so that I no longer like being there; I advise you to sell the garden and courtyard, the house and stabling; then I would make over the big house [the old monastery in which Luther used to live] to my gracious Lord, and it would be best for you to settle down at Zulsdorf [i.e. on her own little property] while I am yet alive.”[1304] He hoped, he goes on, that the Elector would continue to pay him his stipend as professor, “at least during the last year of his life.”

From the letter it is plain that it was annoyance at the decline of morals in the town rather than any strained relations with his friends at Wittenberg that drove him to this sudden decision. “Let us begone out of this Sodom!” he writes and hints that, in addition to the disorders with which he was already acquainted fresh scandals had reached his ears on this journey; the “government,” i.e. the authorities, aroused his deepest indignation. “There is no one to punish or restrain, and besides this the Word of God is derided”; maybe the town “will catch the Beelzebub-dance, now that they have begun to uncover the women and girls [an allusion to the low-cut dresses] in front and behind.” “So I will wander about and rather eat the bread of charity than allow my last days to be tortured and upset by the disorderly life at Wittenberg and see all my hard work brought to nought. You may tell Dr. Pommer and Master Philip of this if you please,” he concludes, “and see whether Dr. Pommer will bid farewell to Wittenberg for me, for I can no longer contain my anger and annoyance.”

The Wittenberg notabilities were filled with consternation on hearing of what Luther had done; they could not regard it as a mere passing whim, for they knew Luther’s determination. The University made representations in writing to the Elector, begging him to intervene to prevent such a misfortune; the foes of the Evangel would rejoice at the departure of the great teacher, other professors would leave, and the result would be new dissensions.[1305] As we know, Melanchthon, by his own account, was ready “to slink away.” Luther, so the University stated, like a new Elias, was the chariot and horseman of Israel and quite indispensable; if he wished any changes made and order established this would be done even should he find “fault with the teaching of some.” The University also sent Bugenhagen and Melanchthon to talk the matter over with Luther; the town despatched its burgomaster and the Elector sent him his own medical attendant, Ratzeberger, with a friendly letter.[1306]

In the meantime Luther had left Zeitz and gone on to Merseburg, whither he had been invited by George of Anhalt, formerly canon of the chapter there. The latter had gone over to Protestantism, and, when the bishopric was sequestrated in 1541 by a secular prince—August, the brother of Duke Maurice of Saxony—was appointed “spiritual administrator” of the see. He now wanted to be formally “consecrated” by Luther as bishop of Merseburg. To this the latter readily agreed. On Aug. 2, with the assistance of Jonas, Pfeffinger and others he reiterated the ceremonial which he had once before performed on Amsdorf at Naumburg (above, vol. v., p. 194).

The festivities at Merseburg, the kindness and hospitality of which he was the recipient at Lobnitz and Leipzig, and, lastly, the change of air and surroundings brought Luther to a much better frame of mind.

The messengers from Wittenberg found him at Merseburg. After they had seen him and listened to his stern admonitions, they were delighted to receive his assurance that, after all, he would return to Wittenberg. His resolve had, in fact, been merely the result of strong excitement. Now, moreover, not only had the depression ceased of which he had so long been the victim but a notable change of mood had supervened and his confidence and courage had been restored. Such sudden changes are not without their parallel in Luther’s earlier life, as has been sufficiently shown above.

He now returned in a better temper to Leipzig, where he preached a vigorous sermon on Aug. 12, and was there entertained by Camerarius, Melanchthon’s confidant; he also “associated with his circle of friends in the best of humours.”[1307]

After his return to Wittenberg on the 16th we hear no more of his vexation, though he did not put much faith in the disciplinary measures that had been drawn up for the town, notwithstanding that they were backed by the Elector; the Court itself, so he wrote, read nothing and only scoffed at everything.[1308]

He now threw himself once more into the struggle with his theological foes. A glance at these labours and at his lectures shows him working at high pressure, while, as his letters show, he retained his sense of humour.

Impelled by the ardent desire to do something for the furtherance of peace within his camp, in spite of his bodily weakness and his distaste for worldly business, he undertook at the request of Count Albert of Mansfeld to act as arbiter in the dispute between the latter and his brother and nephew concerning the royalties from the mines and certain other legal claims.

“My time is entirely taken up,” so he says, “with affairs which do not in the least interest me; I must serve the belly and the table.”[1324] Already at the beginning of October these matters had induced him, with Melanchthon and Jonas, to proceed to Mansfeld. As soon as his course of lectures was finished, viz. at Christmas, he again repaired thither, in spite of the severity of the weather, again accompanied by Melanchthon, who was inclined to grumble at being called upon to listen to the squabbles of quarrelsome people. Luther, however, as he wrote to Count Albert, wished to see the “beloved lords of his native land reconciled and on good terms” before “laying himself to rest in his coffin.”[1325] He returned to Wittenberg shortly after Christmas, owing to Melanchthon’s falling ill.

These two journeys to Mansfeld, afterwards to be followed by a third and last, have, by controversialists, wrongly been made out to have been due to Luther’s desire to escape from Wittenberg on account of his bitter experiences there.

2. Last Troubles and Cares

Theological Disruption

“The sad controversies of the last few years had made Luther recognise that a race of theological fighting-cocks, gamesters and idle rioters had arisen, and that dissensions of the worst sort might be anticipated in the future. The nation in which each one obstinately followed his own way was beyond help.… The Swiss refused to have anything to do with the German Reformation; the Bucerites held themselves aloof from both Lutherans and Swiss, the Brandenburgers wanted to belong neither to the Church of Rome nor to that of Wittenberg; at Wittenberg itself the Martinians and the Philippists (so-called after Luther and Melanchthon) were hostile to each other, and finally the Princes and magistrates all went their own way. ‘Things will fare badly when I am dead,’ such was Luther’s repeated prediction. Whether he looked at this Prince of the Church, at that Landgrave, or that other Duke Maurice, there was not one in whom he could entirely trust. More than one Mene Tekel was written on the wall, yet none perceived it save the old man at Wittenberg at whom they all shrugged their shoulders.”[1326]

Such is the description by Luther’s latest Protestant biographer of the “sad decline of the Evangelical party.”

The Zwinglians had received a severe blow from Luther in his “Kurtz Bekentnis” of Sep., 1544;[1327] but the Swiss, who were hardy and independent fellows, soon prepared a furious counter-reply.[1328] The “old man at Wittenberg” was not deceived as to the profound and irremediable breach, yet he succeeded, at least outwardly, in driving away his annoyance and cares by the use of ridicule. Early in 1546, to one of his confidants who had bewailed the new step taken by the Swiss, he wrote the following, which forms his last utterance against the Zwinglians: “If they condemn me, it is a joy to me. For by my writing I wished to do nothing else than force them to declare themselves my open foes. I have succeeded in this, hence so much the better. To adapt the words of the Psalmist: ‘Blessed is the man who hath not sat in the council of the Sacramentarians, nor stood in the way of the Zwinglians, nor sat in the chair of the men of Zürich.’”[1329] To another intimate, Amsdorf, the “Bishop” of Naumburg, who was allowed a deeper insight into his soul than others, Luther confided that one of the principal reasons of his hatred of his competitors in Switzerland and South-West Germany was that “they are proud, fanatical men, and also idlers. At the beginning of our enterprise, when I was fighting all alone in fear and dread against the fury of the Pope, they were bravely silent and waited to see how things would go. Later on they suddenly posed as victors, and as though, forsooth, they alone had done it all. So it ever is: one does the work and another seeks to enjoy his labour. Now they even go so far as to attack me, who won their freedom for them.… But they will find their judge. If I answer them at all it will be nothing more than a brief recapitulation of the sentence of condemnation irrevocably passed upon them.”[1330]—No such answer was, however, to be forthcoming.

Against Melanchthon Luther’s ardent followers, the Martinians, were, as we know, highly incensed for attempting to modify the doctrines of the Master. Melanchthon’s sufferings on this account have already been described (vol. v., p. 252 ff.). With a grudging silence Luther bore with his friend’s Zwinglian leanings on the doctrine of the Supper, and with their other differences.

Both, moreover, were surrounded by an atmosphere of theological bickerings, “where individuals, who, had it not been for these squabbles, would never have achieved notoriety, gave themselves great airs.”[1331]

We may recall how Melanchthon had even thought of leaving Saxony, where, as he wrote to Camerarius, he was bound down by undignified fetters; such was his weakness, however, that he could not bring himself to do even this. Luther’s coarseness, lack of consideration and dictatorial bearing it was that led Melanchthon to say that he who ruled at Wittenberg was not a Pericles, but a new Cleon and an unsufferable tyrant.[1332]

On the question of the veneration of the Sacrament differences at last sprung up even between Bugenhagen and Luther; the former, usually his pliant instrument, took upon himself during Luther’s absence to abolish at Wittenberg the elevation of the elements during the celebration. Apparently this was in the second half of Jan., 1542. Luther expressed his disapproval of this action and declared he would revive the rite.[1333] In 1544, when the three Princes of Anhalt were at Wittenberg and asked him whether it would be right to abolish the Elevation, he replied: “On no account; such abrogation detracts from the dignity of the Sacrament.” There is no doubt that it was his antagonism to the Zwinglians that was here the determining factor; moreover, as he admitted Christ to be present in the Sacrament during reception in the wider sense, i.e. during the liturgical action, he had no theological grounds for doing away with the elevation and adoration of the elements. In his own justification he went so far as to say: “Christ is in the bread, why then should He not be treated with the greatest respect and also be adored?”[1334]

The Lutheran preacher Wolferinus of Eisleben was in the habit of pouring back into the barrel what remained of the consecrated Wine after communion. Luther called him sharply to account, as he found that his conduct was tainted with Zwinglianism; in order to evade the difficulty he ordered that, in future, preachers and communicants should see that nothing was left over after communion.[1335]

Luther, towards the end of his life, had to taste a good deal of that “theological ire” of which Melanchthon frequently speaks, and not only from the Swiss. We need only call to mind Johann Agricola, and his “antinomian sow-theology,” as Melanchthon termed it. His inferences from Luther’s doctrine of the inability of man to fulfil the Law he never really withdrew even when he had betaken himself to Brandenburg. In the Table-Talk dating from the latest period and published by Kroker, Luther’s frequent bitter references to Agricola show the speaker was well aware that his Berlin opponent still hated and distrusted him as much as ever. After Luther’s death it became evident that Agricola “was capable of everything,” and that Luther was not so far wrong, when, on another occasion, he declared that he was not a man to be taken seriously.[1336] Agricola finally died, loaded with worldly honours, in 1566.

A more serious critic of Luther, at any rate on the question of the Sacrament, was Martin Bucer. The latter’s friendship with the Swiss and the too independent spirit in which he planned the reformation of Cologne, caused Luther great anxiety towards the end of his life. In his plan Luther, so he says, was unable to find any clear confession of faith in the Sacrament, but merely “much idle talk of its profit, fruit and dignity,” all carefully “wrapped up that no one might know what he really thought of it, just as is the way with the fanatics.” In all this talk he could “readily discern the chatterbox Bucer.”[1337] Bucer, on his side, was dissatisfied with the progress of Luther’s work in Germany. Owing to the Interim he was no longer able to remain at Strasburg and accordingly accepted a post at the English University of Cambridge and died in England in 1551.

The Controversy on Clandestine Marriages

It was, however, annoyances and disagreements of a different sort that kept Luther to the end of his days in a state of extreme indignation against the lawyers and politicians of the Court.

In order to understand the victory over the lawyers of which he speaks it will be necessary to cast a glance back on the whole struggle.

As we have already pointed out in the words of a Protestant biographer of Luther the legal status of Lutheranism threatened to give rise to dire complications, while any downright abrogation of Canon Law, such as Luther wished for, was out of the question.[1340] The sober view of the situation taken by the lawyers did not deserve Luther’s offensive treatment. Moreover, under the leadership of Schurf, the lay professors of jurisprudence at the Wittenberg University had many objections to raise against Luther’s demands. They not only upheld clandestine marriages as valid, but, at the same time, defended the indissolubility of marriage, even in the case of adultery, in accordance with the laws of the olden Church; they also held that second marriages were not lawful to the clergy. Schurf likewise wanted the “Evangelical bishops” to be consecrated by papal bishops. A further cause of constant friction lay in the fact that the professors of law were obliged to base their lectures on the books of Canon Law in the absence of any others; whence it came that Luther had to listen to many disagreeable references to the questions of Church property, of the right of inheriting of the children of former monks, of the marriage of nuns, of the legal status of the monasteries, etc. Schurf was otherwise a good Lutheran and had assisted Luther with advice at the Diet of Worms. Melchior Kling, his pupil and colleague at Wittenberg, agreed with him in following the Canon Law on the question of clandestine marriages, according to which (before the Council of Trent had required for the validity of marriage, that it should be performed publicly in the presence of the parish-priest), they were regarded as valid, albeit wrong and forbidden, so that no new marriage could be entered into so long as the parties lived.

Luther hoped, by opposing such marriages, to bring about some improvement in the sad state of morals which the Visitations of 1528 and 1529 had disclosed in the Saxon Electorate. The facility with which such marriages were contracted by the Wittenberg students, and the bad effect they had on the peace of the burghers seemed to him a real blot on the New Evangel. He insisted very strongly that the consent of the parents was required as a condition for marriage; without the parents’ consent the marriages were in his eyes neither public nor valid; it was only where the parents refused their consent on insufficient grounds that he would admit that the bride had any right to enter into a real marriage contract. The decision as to whether the parents’ objections held good was, however, one on which opinions were bound to differ.

Shortly after the Visitations referred to above, in 1529, he wrote his “Von Ehesachen,” published early in 1530; in it he declared: “A secret betrothal simply constitutes no marriage whatsoever,” whilst, as a secret betrothal (i.e. invalid marriage) he regards “any betrothal which takes place without the knowledge and consent of those in authority, and who have the right and power to settle the marriage, viz. the father, mother or whoever stands in their stead.”[1341]

In 1532 he also proclaimed his views against the lawyers from the pulpit without, however, being able to alter thereby either their practice or their teaching. He lamented in 1538 the blindness of Schurf, who paid more attention to man-made laws than to God’s Word and authority.[1342]

After some new disputes he delivered a sermon on Feb. 23, 1539, in which he threatened to put on his horns. In it he called his opponents blockheads; they ought “to reverence our doctrine as the Word of God, coming from the mouth of the Holy Ghost.”[1343] He was not going to worship the Pope’s ordure for the sake of the jurists; “let them let our Church be”; but “now the lawyers are seeking to corrupt our young students of theology with their Papal filth.”[1344]

Schurf seems to have yielded so far as no longer to attempt to make his opinions public or official.

The greatest tussle, however, ensued on the establishment of the Consistories in 1539, as the lawyers who were entrusted with the matrimonial cases, treated the clandestine marriages as valid, and, in other ways, also took Schurf’s side.

Luther asserted that by countenancing the “espousals,” which were “an institution of the devil and the Pope,” the good name and the morals of Wittenberg were being undermined. “Many of the parents say that, when they send their boys to us to study, we hang wives round their necks and rob them of their children.” Not only the burghers and students but even the girls themselves “who have waxed bold” use their freedom most wantonly.[1345] In Jan., 1544, in the pulpit, he poured out his wrath in most unmeasured language, particularly on the second Sunday after the Epiphany; in his tragic delivery he said, for instance: “I, Martin Luther, preacher in this Church of Christ, take thee, secret promise and the paternal consent that follows, together with the Pope and the devil who instituted thee, I bind you all together and fling you into the abyss of hell, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost.”[1346]

His anger and annoyance had been aroused by certain concrete cases.

One of Melanchthon’s sons had contracted such a marriage as he was denouncing. In his own family circle the same thing happened, probably in the case of his nephew, Fabian Kaufmann. A student, Caspar Beier, who was on intimate terms with Luther’s household, wished to marry at Wittenberg, but was prevented by the lawyers of the Consistory on account of a previous clandestine marriage which, however, he denied; he appealed from the Consistory to the sovereign, and was supported by a letter from Luther. This quarrel kindled a conflagration at Luther’s home. Cruciger, a friend of the house, was against Beier and described his cause as “none of the best”; Catherine Bora, on the other hand, the “fax domestica” as Cruciger called her,[1347] seems to have fanned the flames of Luther’s wrath, in the interests of Beier who was a relative of hers.

To a friend Luther admitted in Jan. that he “was so indignant with the lawyers as he had never before been in all his life during all the struggle on behalf of the Evangel.”[1348]

When the controversy was at its height, viz. in Jan., 1544, the Elector arranged for an interview between Luther and the Consistory. Later, in Dec., those negotiations were followed by others, in which the members of the Wittenberg High Court took part; at last Luther’s obstinacy and violence won the day: All marriages without the knowledge or approval of the parents were to be invalid until the latter consented, or the Consistory had pronounced their opposition groundless. To the Elector, who from the first had agreed with Luther’s view, the latter then addressed the letter referred to above (p. 355) where, appealing to his “Divine mission” to preach the 4th commandment, he announces his final triumph over the lawyers and their edicts.

His triumph he owed to his strong will and, also, possibly, to the fact that the Elector was on his side. The victory also affected the case of Beier, whom Luther hastened to acquaint of his freedom;[1349] it further decided to some extent, the yet more important question whether or not the lawyers were to yield to Luther in ecclesiastical matters. They accepted their humiliation with the best grace possible, but we shall not be far wrong in assuming that they were not over-pleased with Luther’s irregular and illogical handling of questions of law.

Difficulties with the State Church

The far-reaching encroachments of the secular authorities in his Church became for Luther in his later years a source of keen vexation.