He preferred thinking of the Redeemer as a child with his parents; how he took his father's dinner to the timber-yard, and how when he had been absent too long, Mary asked him, "Where have you been so long, little one?"
The Saviour should be thought of, not as in his glory, nor as the fulfiller of the law, conceptions too high and terrible for man; but only as a poor sufferer, who lived among and died for sinners.
His God was to him entirely as father and head of the family. He liked to meditate on the economy of nature: he was filled with astonishment at the quantity of wood which God must always be creating. "No one can reckon what God requires to nourish merely sparrows and useless birds: in one single year they cost Him more than the income of the King of France; and then think of all that remains." "God understands all trades: as a tailor He can make a coat for the deer, which might last a hundred years; as a shoemaker He gives him shoes to his feet, and by means of the dear sun He is a cook. He could become rich indeed, if He chose, if He were to withhold the sun and air, and threatened the Pope, Emperor, bishops, and doctors with death, if they did not pay Him a hundred thousand gulden on the spot. He does not do this, yet we are thankless miscreants." He seriously reflected whence came the means of nourishment for so many men. Old Hans Luther had maintained that there were more men than sheaves of corn; the doctor indeed thought that there were more sheaves than men, but that there were more men than shocks. "A shock of corn, however, hardly yields a bushel, and that will not nourish one man a whole year." Even a dung-heap was a subject of pleasant reflection to him. "God is obliged to clear away as well as to create; if He had not continually done so, the world would long ago have become too full." "When God chastises the godly more severely than the godless, He deals with him as a strict father of a family with his son, whom he more frequently punishes than the bad servant: but he secretly collects treasures as an inheritance for his son, whilst he finally casts the servant off." Luther comes joyfully to this conclusion: "If God can forgive me for having during twenty years offended Him by saying mass, He can also excuse my having sometimes had a good drink to his honour--let the world think what it will."
It surprised him much that God should be so very wrath with the Jews. "For fifteen hundred years they have prayed fervently with great zeal and earnestness, as their little prayer-books show; and He has not revealed himself to them during the whole time by the smallest word. I would give two hundred florins' worth of books if I could pray as they do. It must be a great and unspeakable anger. Ah! dear Lord, punish me with pestilence, rather than be thus silent!"
Luther prayed like a child morning and evening, and often during the day, even indeed, during his meals. He repeated again and again with fervent devotion those prayers which he knew by heart. His favourite was the Lord's Prayer, and then he repeated the short catechism; he always carried the Psalter with him as a little prayer-book. When he was in extreme trouble his prayer became like a storm, a wrestling with God, the power, the greatness, and the holy simplicity of which can hardly be compared with any other human emotion. He was then the son who despairingly lies at the feet of his father, or the faithful servant who supplicates his prince. For nothing could shake his conviction that we may influence God's decisions by prayer and supplication. Thus overflowing feelings alternated in his prayers with complaints and even remonstrances. It is often related how, in the year 1540, he restored to life the dying Melancthon at Weimar. When Luther arrived he found "Magister Philippus" at the point of death, unconscious and with closed eyes. Luther, struck with terror, said, "God forbid! how has this organ of God been marred by the devil!" Then he turned his back on those assembled, and went to the window as he was wont to do when he prayed. "Now," said Luther, "must the Lord God stretch forth his hand to me, for I have brought the matter home to Him, and dinned in his ears all his promises as to the efficacy of prayer, which I could repeat from the Holy Scripture, so that He must hearken to me if I am to trust his promises." Then he took Melancthon by the hand, saying, "Be comforted, Philip, you will not die:" and Melancthon, under the spell of his powerful friend, began at once to breathe again, and recovered his consciousness. He was restored.
As God was to Luther the source of all good, so was the devil the producer of all evil and wickedness. He considered that the devil interfered destructively with the course of nature by illness or pestilence, deformity and famine. All that this deep-thinking man preached so firmly and joyfully had formerly pressed with fearful weight upon his conscience; especially when awaking in the night, the devil stood full of malice by his bed, whispering horrors in his ear; then his spirit wrestled for freedom, often for a length of time in vain. It is extraordinary what this son of the sixteenth century went through in these inward struggles. Every fresh inquiry into the Scriptures, every important sermon upon a new theme, threw him again into this strife of conscience: then he reached such a state of excitement that his soul became incapable of systematic thought, and for whole days he trembled with anguish. When he was occupied with the question of monks and nuns, a text of the Bible startled him, which he thought, in his excitement, placed him in the wrong: his heart died within him, and he was nearly strangled by the devil. At this time Bugenhagen visited Luther, who showed him the threatening text.[43] Bugenhagen, probably infected by the eagerness of his friend, began also to doubt, unconscious of the greatness of the misery which it occasioned Luther. Now was Luther indeed terrified, and again passed a fearful night. The next morning Bugenhagen came back. "I am very angry," he said; "I have now, for the first time, understood the text rightly; it has quite another sense." "And it is true," said Luther later, "it was a ridiculous argument; ridiculous indeed for one who is in his right mind, and not under temptation."
He often lamented to his friends, over the terrors which these struggles with the devil occasioned him. "He has never been from the beginning so fierce and raging as now, at the end of the world. I feel him well. He sleeps much nearer to me than my Kate; that is to say, he gives me more disquiet than she does pleasure." Luther never ceased to abuse the Pope as antichrist, or the papal system as devilish. But whoever observes more accurately, will perceive behind this hatred of the devil, the indestructible reverence by which the loyal spirit of the man was bound to the old Church. What became to him temptations, were often only the pious recollections of his youth, which stood in striking contrast to the changes he had gone through as a man.
Indeed, no man is entirely transformed by the great thoughts and deeds of his manhood. We ourselves do not become new through new actions; our inward life consists of the sum of all the thoughts and feelings which we have ever had. He who has been chosen by fate to create the new by the destruction of the old, shatters in pieces at the same time a portion of his own life: he must violate lesser duties to fulfil greater ones. The more conscientious he is, the more deeply he feels the rent which he has made in the order of the world, and also in his own inward nature. This is the secret sorrow, and even the regret, of every great historical character. Few mortals have felt this grief so deeply as Luther; and that which was so great in him, was his never being prevented by this feeling from acting with the utmost boldness.
This appears to us a tragical moment in his inward life; and equally so was the effect of his teaching upon the life of the nation. He had laid the foundation of a new Church upon the pure Gospel, and had given greater depth and substance to the minds and conscience of the people. Around him burst forth a new life, greater general prosperity, many new arts, improvements in painting and music, comfortable enjoyment, and more refined cultivation in the middle classes. Yet there was a something gloomy and ominous which pervaded the German atmosphere. Fierce discord raged amongst princes and governors. Foreign powers were arrayed against the people, the Emperor from Spain, the Pope from Rome, and the Turks from the Mediterranean; enthusiasts and factious spirits were powerful, the hierarchy had not yet fallen. Had his gospel given greater unity and power to the nation? The discord had become only greater, and the future of his Church seemed dependent on the worldly interests of individual German princes. And well he knew what even the best among them were. Something terrible seemed approaching, the Scripture would be fulfilled, the last day was at hand. But afterwards God would raise up a new world, more beautiful, more splendid, and more pure, full of peace and blessing; a world in which there would be no devil; where the soul of man would find more enjoyment in the flowers and fruit of the new heavenly trees, than the present race do in gold and silver; where music, the most beautiful of all arts, would give birth to tones more entrancing than the most splendid song of the best singers of this world; and where good men would find again all that they had loved and lost.[44]
Ever more powerful became in him the longing of the creature after an ideal purity of existence. If he expected the end of the world, it was the dim traditions of the German people from the distant past which still veiled the heaven of the new Reformer; and yet it was at the same time a prophetic presentiment of what was at hand. It was not the end of the world which was approaching, but the Thirty years' war.
So he died. As the hearse bearing his corpse passed through the country of Thuringia, the bells tolled in every village and town, and the people pressed sobbing round his coffin. A large share of German popular strength was buried with this one man. Philip Melancthon, in the church of the castle at Wittenberg, standing before the corpse of Luther, said: "Every one who has known him well must bear witness that he was a truly good man; gracious in speech, friendly and lovable; not in the least insolent, violent, obstinate, or quarrelsome; and yet there was an earnestness and boldness in his words and bearing befitting such a man. His heart was true, and without guile; the harshness which appeared in his writings against the enemies of his doctrine, did not arise from a quarrelsome or bad spirit, but from his great earnestness and zeal for the truth. He showed great courage and manliness, and did not allow himself to be easily frightened. He was not dispirited by threatenings and danger. He possessed such a lofty and clear understanding, that in confused, dark, and difficult circumstances, he could see sooner than others what was to be counselled and done. He was not, as some perhaps have thought, so heedless as not to have remarked how it fared everywhere with the governments. He knew right well in what government consists, and paid assiduous attention to the opinions and will of the people with whom he had to do. Let us have a constant and undying remembrance of this our beloved father, and keep him ever in our hearts."[45]
Such was Luther, a superhuman nature; his mind was ponderous and sharply defined, his will powerful and temperate, his morals pure, and his heart full of love. As besides him no other powerful spirit arose strong enough to become the leader of the nation, the German people have lost for centuries the supremacy over the world; their supremacy in the realm of mind rests however upon Luther. That he may in conclusion speak for himself, we will give a letter to the Elector Frederic the Wise, written at the time when Luther's whole powers were most strongly developed. The prudent prince had commanded him to remain at Wartburg, because he could not protect him at Wittenberg, as the anger of the Duke George of Saxony would lead him to insist immediately upon the carrying out of the ban of the empire against Luther. Luther then writes to his sovereign:--
"Most Serene Highness, Illustrious Elector, and Gracious Sovereign! Your Electoral Highness's letter and gracious remembrance of me, reached me on Friday evening, when I was preparing to leave on Sunday morning. I need truly neither proof nor witness that your Electoral Highness's intentions are for the best, for I am as fully convinced thereof as any human being can be.
"Yet in this matter, Gracious Sovereign, I must answer thus: your Electoral Highness knows, or if you do not know, permit me hereby to make you acquainted with it, that I have not received the gospel from man, but from heaven alone, through our Lord Jesus Christ, so that I may, and indeed from henceforth will, boast and sign myself a servant and evangelist. If I have presented myself for trial and judgment, it was not because I doubted the truth, but from overflowing humility, and to persuade others. I have done enough for your Electoral Highness in leaving my place vacant for a whole year for the sake of your Electoral Highness. The devil knows well that I have not done it from fear. He saw what a heart I had when I came to Worms; for if I had known that as many devils were lying in wait for me as there were tiles on the roofs, yet I would have rushed into the midst of them with joy.
"Now the Duke George is very unlike even a single devil. And since our Father, in his unfathomable mercy, has, by his gospel made us joyful lords over death and all devils, and has given us such a fullness of assurance that we may call Him 'Dearly beloved Father,' your Electoral Highness can yourself judge that it would be the greatest offence to such a Father if we did not so trust Him as to be above the anger of Duke George. For my part I know well, I would gladly ride into his own Leipzig--I hope your Electoral Highness will forgive my foolish jesting--even though it should rain, proud Duke Georges during nine following days, and every one should be ninefold more furious than this one. He considers my Lord Christ only a man of straw; this my Lord and I can well bear with for a time. But I will not conceal from your Electoral Highness that I have not once only, but often prayed and wept for Duke George, that God would enlighten him. I will still once more pray and weep for him, but after that never more. And I beg of your Electoral Highness to help and pray also that we may turn from him the evil, which, God help him, weighs incessantly upon him. I would at once strangle Duke George with a word if it could be thus removed.
"I have written thus to your Electoral Highness, with the intention of making known to you that I come to Wittenberg under a far higher protection than that of the Elector. I also do not intend to request the protection of your Electoral Highness, for indeed, I think I could better protect your Electoral Highness than you could protect me. So much so, that if I knew your Electoral Highness could protect me, and would do so, I would not come. It is not the sword which can counsel or help in this business; it is God alone who can act, without any human assistance; therefore he who has most faith will have most power to protect.
"As I therefore perceive that your Electoral Highness is as yet weak in faith, I can in no wise regard your Electoral Highness as the man to protect or deliver me.
"As your Electoral Highness desires to know what you shall do in this business, especially as you think that you have done too little, I answer, with all due submission, that your Electoral Highness has done too much, and should do nothing. For God will not allow of our cares and doings; He will have every doing left to himself, to himself and no other. May your Electoral Highness act accordingly.
"If your Electoral Highness believes this, you will have security and peace; if you do not, I do, and must leave your Electoral Highness in your unbelief, to torment yourself with the anxieties which all unbelievers deservedly suffer. As, therefore, I will not obey your Electoral Highness, you will be excused before God if I should be imprisoned or put to death. Towards men your Electoral Highness ought thus to conduct yourself. You should as Elector be obedient to the supreme authority, and should allow the Imperial majesty to rule in your towns and provinces, over persons and property, in conformity with the laws of the empire, and should not attempt to prevent or oppose, or make any hindrance or resistance to this power if it should seize and kill me. For no one should resist authority, he excepted by whom it has been established, otherwise it is revolt, and against God. But I hope that your Electoral Highness will be reasonable, and perceive that you are in too high a position to become my gaoler. If your Electoral Highness keeps the door open, and grants a free escort in case my enemies themselves or their emissaries should come to seize me, you will have done enough for obedience-sake. They cannot indeed demand more of your Electoral Highness, than to learn the residence of Luther in your Electoral Highness's dominions. And that, they shall do without any care, work, or danger on the part of your Electoral Highness; for Christ has not yet taught men to be Christians to the injury of others.
"If, however, they should be so unreasonable as to command your Electoral Highness to lay hands on me yourself, I will then tell you what is to be done: I will secure your Electoral Highness from injury and danger to person, property, and soul, in what concerns me. Your Electoral Highness may or may not believe this.
"Herewith I commend your Electoral Highness to God's grace; of anything further we will speak when it is needful. For I have written this in haste, that your Electoral Highness may not be troubled by the report of my arrival, for I must comfort and not injure any one if I would be a true Christian. I have to deal with quite a different man to Duke George: we know each other well. If your Electoral Highness would have faith, you would see the glory of God; but because you have not yet faith, you have not seen it. Love and praise be to God in eternity. Amen. Given at Borna by the messenger, Ash Wednesday, anno 1522.
"Your Electoral Highness's most obedient servant,
"Martin Luther."
Luther was dead. Over his grave raged the Smalkaldic war. Charles V. made a triumphal progress through humiliated Germany.
Only once did these two men confront each other--these great opponents whose spirits are still struggling in the German nation,--the Burgundian Hapsburger and the German peasant's son--the Emperor and the professor;--the one, who spoke German only to his horse; the other, who translated the Bible and formed the new German language of literature;--the one, the predecessor of the Jesuit protectors and the originator of the Hapsburger family politics; the other, the forerunner of Lessing the great German poet, historian, and philosopher.
It was a moment in German history pregnant with fate, when the young Emperor, lord of half the world, spoke at Worms the disdainful words,--"That man shall not make me a heretic." For then began the struggle between his house and the spirit of the German nation. A struggle of three centuries; victory and defeat on both sides; its final issue not to be doubted.
When the German princes and lords of the Empire, with the envoys from the free cities, rode to the Diet, they assembled to transact business with the two rulers of Germany. These two rulers were the Pope and the Emperor.
The Pope ruled in the holy Roman Empire of the German nation, not only as chief bishop in his spiritual capacity, but equally as a political power. A third of Germany was under the rule of ecclesiastical princes, who had at least to be confirmed by the Pope. The greatest part of his income he drew from the Empire; his legates sat at the Imperial Diet, among the ecclesiastical and temporal Electors, and could even open it without the Emperor.
When the Emperor would not confirm the Count Palatine Frederic the Victorious in the Electoral dignity, this temporal prince accepted the confirmation of the Pope. The Pope endeavoured to bring every difficult political negotiation before his court; indeed, he granted rights of custom, he annulled the Imperial ban, and ventured by his own power to exact tithes.
The Emperor was still considered the nominal centre of the Empire, and the source of all power. All hastened, upon his accession, to obtain from him the confirmation of old freedoms and privileges, and he was the first judge and first general of the Empire, but could not raise a single thaler of money or a single soldier without the consent of the Diet. And what was of still greater importance, he could only obtain taxes and soldiers from among the vassals, by the consent of their feudal lords. Hesitatingly and sparingly did the Diet grant subsidies, and so defective was the payment that the grant became a mere farce.
Within the Empire, Electors, princes, nobles, and Imperial cities ruled their territories, with many gradations of sovereign rights. The greater princes were real sovereigns, their power only restricted by their states. Noble families, holding temporal principalities in heritable possession, strove incessantly to enlarge their power, to put down the smaller lords round them, and to limit the sovereign rights of the Emperor. In the fifteenth century they had reduced the Imperial power almost to a shadow. It was only by extending the power of his house that the Emperor Maximilian was able to maintain himself against them.
We may easily perceive that there were two ways of remodelling this clumsy state edifice of the middle ages. In one case the power of the great princes might rise so high, that the temporal influence of the Pope and the supremacy of the Emperor would be overthrown; then Germany would be divided into a number of individual states, whose conflicts, wars, and destinies might for centuries throw the whole of central Europe into weakness and confusion, and which at last, in another state of development, might lead to new endeavours to restore unity to the Empire. It has been the fate of Germany up to the present time to follow this dangerous path.
In the other case, the Emperor might have succeeded in adding to the old groundwork of his power, such real strength, that the opposition of all the ruling princes would be broken, and Germany gradually changed into a modern state, that would either enclose the individual governments in perfect unity, or at least concentrate all the highest powers of government in the hand of one ruler. To form such a state, the Hapsburgers of the sixteenth century, and with more wilful obstinacy those of the seventeenth, have striven to the injury of the German nation and themselves; yet in the year 1519, when Maximilian died, the prospect opened to an able prince was grand, though the power of his house was moderate.
The time had arrived when a German Emperor might raise his power above the heads of all the princes, and with irresistible strength overthrow every opponent; for just at that time a new power arose in Germany, imperative in its demands, and capable of the greatest results,--public opinion. The Reform movement in the Church combined also within it the germ of great political reforms. Had an Emperor arisen who would have sympathized with the needs of the German spirit, who would have united himself with the Reformation, and known how to raise it for his own aims in an exalted spirit, he would have had it in his power to form out of the Empire a new state and a united German Church: it was the highest prize that ever was offered to an ambitious prince; and how favourable would have been his position! The nation was deeply roused against the hierarchy and Romish influence, and the Reformation began with a struggle against the highest of the ecclesiastical electors. Three Electorates, more than seventy Imperial dignities, comprising the largest third of the whole country of Germany, were in the hands of ecclesiastical lords, who would all have fallen had the Reformation been undertaken by the Emperor and people. The Emperor would have found in the movement, powers which would have made his Imperial army irresistible; the evangelical preachers could not in a moment have transformed awkward peasants into skilled soldiers; but they might have infused into the armies of the Emperor, much of the enthusiasm and reckless daring which the best among them made proof of in their own lives; besides which, comprehensive ideas of political reform sprang up in the circle of the Huttens and Sickingens; and a German Emperor might well have found in such ideas the means of reconciling the conflicting interests of peasants, citizens, and knights, at least sufficiently so to serve his own purposes. How could the German princes, disunited as they always were, have withstood an Emperor with such allies, strengthened by a well-established income, and leader of an army which for the first time since the Crusades would have been animated by a great idea? Good grounds would such an emperor have had to have respected old families: it would not have been necessary for him to take the Electoral crown from off their heads, but he might have reduced them to be dignitaries of one great united empire, in which the highest jurisdiction and the power of the army would have been vested in him alone: the want of such a man was for centuries the misfortune of Germany.
It is difficult to do justice to the German princes of the sixteenth century; their position was unfavourable for the formation of their character and for the development of elevated political action. They were too great to be loyal vassals, but not powerful enough, with only moderate abilities, to conduct the affairs of the nation in a liberal spirit. They were for the most part pretentious Junkers; their selfishness appeared to foreigners rapacious, their manners rude, their greed insatiable.
The private life of many of them was stained by the blackest crimes; a few of them were at heart pious; their religion was, we hope, a restraint in the hour of temptation, but it did not contribute to enlarge their political views. There was a patriarchal feeling among many of them. Such were Frederic the Wise and his next successor; such also was the Margrave Ernest of Baden, who used to have condemned criminals brought to him before their execution, that he might give them comfort from the Gospel, and beg for their forgiveness (as he felt obliged to fulfil his duty), and who offered them his hand at parting. Besides men of this kind there were others, overbearing, profligate, and wicked; such was Duke Ulrich of Würtemberg, who stabbed Hans Hutten in the forest because he wished to obtain possession of his wife. But though at most of the courts consideration for wife and children compelled a certain degree of moderation, the ecclesiastical princes were not even under this restraint. They were in the worst repute, and the more athletic preferred the helmet and the hunting-spear to the vestments of the Church, which some of them wore very awkwardly. There were bishops and archbishops who hardly knew the ritual of their Church. Once when a Latin discourse was to be made, it appeared that the highest princes of the Church could not speak that language, and the Margrave of Brandenburg was obliged to do it.
It was through princes like these that Charles, sovereign of Lower Burgundy and the Netherlands, King of Spain and Naples, Duke of Milan, and Lord of the new world on the other side of the ocean, became also Emperor of Germany. It is well known how long and actively the intrigues both for him and the King of France were pursued. There was no Electoral house to which money or promises were not proffered by both parties, and none which did not negotiate for its own advantage. At last Frederic the Wise decided the election, and dear has his family paid for this decision. When the young king was crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, where, to the great delight of the assembled multitude, he caused his horse to prance joyously before them, and when, after the coronation, the heralds proclaimed that the Emperor would, by permission of his Holiness the Pope, take the title of "Roman Emperor Elect," there were absent from the festive train the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, the Princes of the two houses which from henceforth were to lead the German opposition against the house of Hapsburg.
The fate of Germany was decided by the election of Charles V. He was not entirely a Burgundian, not always a Spaniard, not an Italian, and least of all a German. His position was too high, for him to make it the interest of his life to meet the requirements of any one of the many nations under his sway. The unfortunate part of his exalted position was, that he could only carry out a personal policy, subordinating sometimes one, sometimes another country to the course of his plans, the ultimate aim of which was the advantage of his own family. Had Charles been less able and less moderate, what was insupportable in these incongruities would have been felt as a grievance by all his states; but seldom has a prince maintained so long, a position in itself untenable. At last, however, the catastrophe arrived. After thirty years of fame and success, he broke down, and the misery of Germany became apparent.
Although he had so little in common with the Germans, still he was not unpopular in the Empire. The people of Germany looked upon him as Luther himself did. The confiding attachment with which the Germans received the grandson of Maximilian was almost touching; his noble, reserved, and composed bearing had an imposing effect upon all. In the beginning the best was hoped of him, and later also, even the Protestants who had experienced his displeasure, rejoiced when he encountered the Pope or conquered the French King. Long did the German nation continue to feel itself exalted by the glory and splendour of his government. Charles did his best; he spared the prejudices of the Germans, indulged them more than any of his other people, and even when he sided with a party, he knew how to conciliate his opponents by his benevolent dignity. At last, however, the time came when his pride and pretensions rose so high that the intractable independence of the Protestant party became insupportable to him, and then his long concealed opposition broke forth into hate. Suddenly, a storm arose against him among the people. As in the first years of Luther, a sea of small literature again overflowed the country: they fought against him in prose and verse, and they depended more on the support of heaven than was wise. The successor of Duke George of Saxony, that most zealous opponent of the Reformation, the Protestant Maurice, united himself with the Emperor against his own family, and the Protestant party was defeated.
Now the Emperor Charles had attained the height of his power; the battle of Mühlberg was won; the Smalkaldic league had fallen to pieces ingloriously. The Protestant princes and cities hastened to make their peace with that lord of half Europe, to whom in an evil hour they had been so eager to offer the dominion over them. Carrying away with him the captive Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse, he marched from the Saale in triumphant procession to Augsburg, accompanied by his army of Spaniards, and Flemings, and German Landsknechte. There all the most powerful of Germany were gathered together at the Diet to obtain pardon or reward, to pay court to the most mighty sovereign that for centuries had ruled over Germany, to decide their own future and that of their Fatherland, and to seek pleasure and adventures. Amidst this crowd of sovereigns and dynasties, courtiers, swindlers, soldiers, and deputations of citizens, was one Bartholomew Sastrow, the son of a citizen of Greifswald. He was actively employed as agent of the Dukes of Pomerania, who were strongly compromised by their Protestant alliances, and preferred not to appear in person before the Emperor. In his biography (edited 1823) Sastrow has left some, lively descriptions of what he experienced after the battle of Mühlberg, during the triumphal march of the Emperor to Augsburg and the Diet. The historical value of his narrative is not insignificant. He made good observations in his subordinate position, and had connections enough to be enabled to form a true conception of the character of the great lords; and however insignificant some of his anecdotes may be, they help, on the whole, to show men and great events in a new light. The following is a faithful quotation from his words, but from the lengthiness of his narrative parts, only have been given.
"The Pomeranian councillors desired me to remain in the Imperial camp, and to put myself under the protection of George von Wedell. This Pomeranian nobleman had stabbed his own cousin, and was in disgrace with Duke Barnim, but was now serving the Emperor with nine-and-twenty horse. Under my guidance he made himself so useful to the Pomeranian dukes, that Duke Barnim, at my earnest petition, restored him to favour, and reinstated him in his own property. Thus I remained with my steed at the Imperial court at Augsburg; how it fared with me on this march, and what I saw and heard, is here correctly recorded.
"It is customary in war for comrades to steal each other's horses, and they remain unpunished; the process is as follows. If any one likes another's horse, he pays a cunning stable-boy six or seven thalers to procure it for him; then it is sent away for five or six weeks that it may be forgotten; the tail, mane, and other marks are changed, and it is brought back to the camp. This was done in the Imperial camp at Halle by a German nobleman, who commissioned a boy to steal a Spanish steed for him, and having kept him for a few weeks at his home, thinking the rumour of it had died away, he had him brought back to the camp. Now it happened that about eight or more squadrons of German horse, were stationed in a beautiful meadow delightfully situated on the Saale; but the Spaniards were encamped on the heights round the castle. The stolen steed towards evening was taken to the river to drink; a Spanish boy recognizing it said, 'This belongs to my master, I will be off with it.' The German boy would not let him go; three or four German horsemen came to his assistance, ten or twelve to the Spaniard, then twenty or thirty to the German; thus both sides continued increasing, and at last they began to fire. The Spaniards being on the heights, had greatly the advantage over the Germans who were encamped below them; and shooting through their tents, they killed some of the noblemen who were sitting at table: the Germans on their side did not spare the Spaniards. The Emperor sent out a Spanish lord who was riding a splendid charger, and was adorned with glittering golden chains, to pacify the German knights, and to quiet the uproar; upon which the Germans screamed out, 'Shoot down the Spanish miscreant!' When therefore he came on to the bridge to cross the Saale, his horse was killed under him, and he of the golden chains falling into the river, was drowned. Then the Emperor sent out to them King Ferdinand's son, the Archduke Maximilian, afterwards Roman Emperor, thinking that they would undoubtedly listen to him and be appeased; but they screamed all the same, 'Beat the Spanish miscreant!' whereupon one struck him on the right arm, and I saw how for some weeks after he carried his arm in a black sling. At last, the Emperor himself came out, and said, 'Dear Germans, I know you are not guilty; be satisfied; I will repair the damage you have suffered; and by my Imperial honour, tomorrow at daybreak I will have the Spaniards hung before your eyes.' Thus the uproar was quieted. The following day the Emperor caused an examination and valuation to be made of the damage done in both the German and Spanish camps; and as it appeared that only eighteen German squires and servants, together with seventeen horses, had been killed, whilst the Spaniards had lost seventy men, the Emperor sent word to the German knights that His Majesty would replace the value of their horses, and would not be disinclined to fulfil his promise of the day before, of hanging the Spaniards; but the Germans would themselves see now that the Spaniards had suffered fourfold, and that thus they had been sufficiently revenged; the Emperor therefore hoped, and had graciously decided, that the Germans should be satisfied and contented.
"On the evening of the 18th of June, the two Electors, Maurice of Saxony, and Brandenburg, took the Landgrave Philip of Hesse between them to Halle. On the following day, about six o'clock in the evening, he, together with his chancellor who was kneeling beside him, prostrated himself in the great hall before the Emperor, in the presence of many lords, electors, princes, foreign potentates, ambassadors, counts, colonels, generals, and a large number of spectators, as many as the room could hold, and as many as could see through the window from without. But when the chancellor most humbly craved pardon, the Landgrave, who was a satirical gentleman, knelt, but laughed deridingly. Then the Emperor pointed his finger at him and said with an angry look, 'Truly I will teach you to laugh;' which indeed was afterwards done.
"The Emperor proceeded from Halle to Naumburg, and remained there three days. When the Imperial army was assembled before Naumburg, and his Imperial Majesty was waiting before the gate, he wore a black velvet hat and a black mantle bordered with velvet two inches wide, but a shower of rain coming on, he sent into the city for a gray felt hat and cloak; meanwhile he turned his cloak, and holding his hat under it, exposed his bare head to the rain. Poor man! he who had tons of gold to spend, would rather expose his bare head to the wet than allow his cloak to be spoilt by the rain. The Spaniards always took the Landgrave a day's march before the Emperor; they were very disorderly and ill conducted, for they left their dead lying on the road which the Emperor had to pass, and behaved shamefully to men, women, and children.
"On the 1st of July he arrived at Bamberg. The Emperor made his entrance with a great concourse of people about midday; he was mounted on a little horse. In the suburb there was a street turning off to the right, and in the corner house was lodged the imprisoned Elector of Saxony, so that on one side he could look out into the fields, and on the other into the city. He was standing above at the window, to watch the Imperial procession; and when the Emperor approached the corner, he bowed lowly before him: the Emperor kept his eyes fixed on him as long as he could see him, and laughed deridingly.
"On the 3rd of July the Emperor fixed the 1st of September for the Diet to be held at Augsburg. The Spaniards carried away from the bishopric of Bamberg upwards of four hundred women, maidens, and maidservants to Nuremberg. From thence they sent them home again; the parents, husbands, and brothers had followed them to Nuremberg; fathers seeking their daughters, husbands their wives, and brothers their sisters, and there each one found his own again. Was not that a wicked nation? thus to act when war was over, in a friend's country, and in the presence of the Imperial Majesty, who nevertheless keeps very strict rule. Every evening where his tent was erected, he caused a gallows to be raised, and had them hung unsparingly; yet even that was of no avail.
"When he left Nuremberg, the Duke of Leignitz, who usually passed his nights in drunken revelry, for once rose early and rode to the Emperor's lodging, where he arrived at six o'clock, but found that the Emperor had already been gone two hours. The duke was too much ashamed to follow; but sent two of his councillors to Augsburg, and returned to his own country, where he continued his disorderly life. Once when he was very tipsy he commanded the councillors, at the peril of their lives, to put him into a tower and feed him with bread and water; and if they disobeyed him, he would have their heads off. They took him to a tower wherein there were already prisoners; he was let down into the hole where they were, and the keeper received orders not to let him out, and to feed him with nothing but bread and water. When he had outslept his drunkenness he roused himself, and began to talk with the prisoners, and called to the gaoler to set him free. The man told him it was strictly forbidden; but he made it known to the councillors, who temporized till the third day. The duke meanwhile did not desist from ordering the gaoler to beg the councillors to give in and release him. Then they went to him in the prison, and heard him begging and entreating; but they told him what he had commanded them, on pain of having their heads cut off, and they knew that he would not trifle with them, and therefore dared not let him out. But as he promised by everything that was high and holy not to injure them, they released him.
"He continued his mad wild life until he ruined his people and country and his own health. He died, leaving his wife, who was a Duchess of Mecklenburg, and their children in the greatest poverty. His widow complained to the city councils that she was in great need, and knew not what to do, nor how to bring up her sons according to their position; and begged that they would assist her. So the council of Stralsund sent her some thalers by a special messenger.
"At the end of July, his Imperial Majesty arrived with the whole army at Augsburg; he had left the Landgrave with a troop of Spaniards at Donauwörth, but had brought the captive Elector along with him to Augsburg, and had quartered him in the house of Welser, in the wine market; it was separated from the Emperor's palace by two houses and a little street, and was close to our inn. The Emperor had a way made through the two houses, and a bridge made over the little street, so that he could pass from his rooms into those of the Elector. The latter kept house himself, and had his chancellor Minkwitz and his own attendants with him, so that no Spaniards need enter either his sitting, or his sleeping rooms. The Duke of Alva and other great lords of the Imperial court had free access to and held friendly intercourse with him, and enlivened him by their society. In the courtyard of the Elector's dwelling, which was built and furnished in princely style, there was a circus, where they threw the spear; he was also allowed to ride to any of the places of amusement and ornamental gardens, of which there were many at Augsburg; and because from his youth he had always taken delight in fencing, and had been an adept at it when younger and more active, fencing-schools were erected for his pleasure; but the Spanish soldiers guarded him. Besides this, he was allowed to read books and so forth up to the end of the Diet, when he refused to accept the interim. But with the Landgrave at Donauwörth it did not fare so well; the Spaniards were all day long in his rooms. When he was at his window looking into the square, one or two Spaniards were always beside him, stretching out their necks as far as his. Armed Spaniards lay all night in his room, and when the watch was changed, and the new one came in with drums and fifes, those who had kept guard half the night uncovered the bed and said, 'See there, we deliver him to you; henceforth you must guard him.'
"Methinks that this was indeed keeping the promise made at Halle: 'Truly I will teach you to laugh.' His Imperial Majesty as soon as he arrived at Augsburg, caused a gallows to be erected in the middle of the city close to the Town Hall, in order to create terror, and near it also a platform on which the bowstring was administered; and directly opposite another, about the height of a middle-sized man, whereon people were broken on the wheel, beheaded, strangled, quartered, and the like.
"It was truly a warlike Diet, for there were already in the garrison ten companies of Landsknechte, besides the Spanish and German troops which the Emperor brought with him to Augsburg, who were encamped in the country round the city. But it was also a notable and stately Diet, for the Emperor and King were there, all the Electors in person, with large bodies of followers; the Elector of Brandenburg with his wife, the Cardinal of Trent, Duke Heinrich of Brunswick with his two sons Carl Victor and Philip, Margrave Albrecht of Culmbach, Duke Wolfgang, Palatine of the Rhine, Duke Augustus of Saxony, Duke Albrecht of Bavaria, &c., Frau Maria, the Emperor's sister, and the daughter of his sister, the widow of Lorraine; the wives of the Margrave and of the Bavarian Duke; item; ambassadors of foreign potentates; besides these many bishops and abbots, numberless counts, barons, citizens of the Imperial cities, illustrious envoys, and excellent men. I must not forget Michael the Jew, who considered himself a great man, and rode through the streets on a well-caparisoned horse, splendidly attired, his neck covered with gold chains. He was always surrounded by ten or twelve of his servants, all Jews, accoutred as troopers. He was a distinguished-looking man, and it is said that his true father was a Count von Rheinfelden. The hereditary Marshal of Pappenheim, an old gentleman who could not see very distinctly, not only took off his hat, but also bent his knee to him, as he would to one greater than himself. When he found afterwards that it was Michael, he repented that he had shown such honour to a Jew, and exclaimed, 'May God confound thee, thou old rogue of a Jew.'
"Splendid banquets were held at the Diet, and there were dances almost every evening, both foreign and German. King Ferdinand especially was seldom without guests; they were always treated magnificently, with all kinds of pastimes and splendid dances. He had exceedingly fine music, not only instrumental, but also singing. Besides other diversions, he had always behind him a witty fool, whose powers he knew how to bring out, and to meet his lively sallies with a retort, his tongue was never still. I saw one evening at his house a dance, in which a Spanish gentleman, attired in a long closed robe, reaching to the ground, so that one could not see his feet, led out a young lady, and danced with her an Algarde or Passionesa (as they call it, I know nothing about it); he sprang about so wonderfully, and she likewise, and they went so well together, that it was a pleasure to see them. His brother, the Emperor of Rome, on the contrary, gave no banquets, and did not even entertain his own attendants; when they accompanied him from the church to the chamber in which he dined, giving each of them his hand, he dismissed them, and placed himself alone at table. Neither did he talk; only once when he came out of the church into his chamber, he looked round, and not seeing Carlowitz,[46] he said to Duke Maurice, 'Ubi est noster Carlovitius?' and when the latter answered, 'Most Gracious Emperor, he is somewhat unwell,' he called out to his doctor in Flemish, 'Vesali, you must go to Carlowitz; he is said to be somewhat unwell; see if you cannot restore him.' I have often seen the Emperor dine during the Diet, but he never invited his brother, King Ferdinand, to dine with him. The dinner was brought up by the young princes and counts, and there were always four courses, each consisting of six dishes, which were placed on the table before him, and the covers removed one by one; he shook his head at those which he did not desire, nodded when he wished to partake of one, and drew the dish towards him. The fine pies, game, and well-dressed dainties were sent away, and he would keep a roast pig, and calf's head, and suchlike: he did not allow it to be cut for him, nor did he often himself use the knife, except to cut many small pieces of bread as large as he could put into his mouth with each bit of meat. He then loosened with his knife, the corner which he liked best of the dish he wished to eat; he broke it with his fingers, held the dish under his chin, and ate in this primitive manner so neatly and cleanly that it was a pleasure to see him. When he wished to drink--and he only drank thrice during his meal--he nodded to his physicians, who were standing before the table; they went forthwith to the treasury, where were kept two silver bottles and a crystal cup which held about a pint and a half, and filled the glass out of the two bottles; this he drank clean off, so that not a drop remained therein, and he had to take breath two or three times before he withdrew it from his mouth. He never spoke whilst at table, and though there were fools standing behind him, who cut all kinds of jokes, he did not heed them; at the utmost he twisted his mouth into a half-smile if they said something very amusing. He did not care that many should stand round to see an Emperor eating. He had a splendid choir, as well as instrumental music, which performed in the churches but never in his own rooms. The dinner did not last an hour; then everything was removed, and seats and tables put away, so that nothing remained but the four walls, hung on all sides with costly tapestry. When grace had been said before him, they handed him a little quill for a toothpick; then he washed himself and placed himself in a corner of the chamber at the window, and any one might come, and either present a written petition or speak themselves, and he told them on the spot where they might obtain an answer.
"There were fine doings also amongst the princes and lords, both spiritual and temporal. I was once looking on when the Margrave Albrecht was drinking and playing at the Peilketafel,[47] with other young princes and young bishops who were not born princes; they did not give each other their titles, but called mockingly, 'Shoot away, priest; what does it matter? you will never hit the mark;' and the bishop replied after an equally vulgar fashion. Young princes lay upon the ground with princesses and countesses, for they did not sit upon benches or seats, but costly carpets were spread about the rooms, whereon they could sit and stretch themselves comfortably. They squandered upon extravagant banqueting, not only what was in their exchequers and what they had brought to the Diet, which amounted to many thousand thalers, but they were obliged, with great difficulty and vexation and irreparable loss, to borrow enough to enable them to leave Augsburg with becoming style. The subjects of certain princes, particularly of the Duke of Bavaria, whose wife was daughter of the King of Rome, collected some thousand gulden only for play, which they made a present of to their lords, who lost it all.
"I often addressed petitions to the Bishop of Arras, Doctor Marquardt, and other councillors; but as I did not of my own accord find out what was usual to be done to gain favour in courts and great cities and with lords, Doctor John Marquardt cleverly gave me to understand that it would give him particular pleasure to possess a pretty little horse, whereon he might ride to the council, as was customary at the Imperial court; I wrote therefore to Pomerania, and they sent me a fine horse, with an order to have suitable riding gear made for it, and then to present it to the doctor, together with three large Portuguese pieces of gold, which the doctor gladly accepted without any hesitation. A great treasure of silver, gold, money, and money's worth of costly and rare goods, was presented to Herr von Granvella, whereby the Electors, princes, and cities thought to obtain his favour with his Imperial Majesty. He carried it on large waggons and strong mules along with him on his return home, and when he was asked what was on the waggons and mules, he answered, 'Peccata Germaniæ.'
"At the earnest entreaties and supplications of the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, the Emperor fixed a day in December to decide the matter concerning the Landgrave of Hesse. Now the Elector Duke Maurice was intriguing with the Duchess of Bavaria, and on the Sunday morning before the Monday on which the long-desired decision was to be given, he placed himself in a sledge, for it had frozen hard, and there was snow on the roads. Carlowitz came running to him from the Chancellery, and said, 'Whither will your Electoral Grace drive?' The Elector answered: 'I drive to Munich.' I was standing outside the gate, so that I and others who were near could hear all that passed. Carlowitz then said: 'Has your Electoral Grace forgotten that to-morrow his Imperial Majesty's decision will be given in the business so important to your Electoral Grace and to the Elector of Brandenburg?' The Elector replied: 'I will drive to Munich.' Then Carlowitz answered: 'You owe it to me that you have become an Elector of note, but you have conducted yourself so frivolously at this Diet, that you have brought on yourself the contempt of the distinguished persons of all nations, and of their Imperial and Royal Majesties.' As he was saying this, Duke Maurice touched his horses with the whip, and drove out of the gate. Carlowitz called out to him loudly: 'Go your way in the devil's name, and may God confound you in your driving and all else.' When the Elector returned from Munich, Carlowitz was on the point of starting for Leipzig, as he said the new year's fair was at hand, and he must needs be there, or he would lose some thousand thalers; so the Elector, wishing to retain him, was obliged to present him with that amount. Neither of the Electors appeared on the appointed day before his Imperial Majesty, nor was a decision come to on the matter of the imprisoned Landgrave. For as the drive to Munich, and the conversation betwixt Duke Maurice and Carlowitz, which had been held in open day in the streets, and heard by many, was not concealed from his Imperial Majesty, he considered the many entreaties of this prince more as mockery than earnest, and no further day was fixed upon to hear the cause.
"The German Landsknechte of the garrison at Augsburg had not been paid for some months, and it was reported that the fine upon the Landgrave and the cities, out of which they were to have been paid, had been collected, but that the Duke of Alva had lost it at play with the imprisoned Landgrave, so they were kept long without their pay: then some of them fell upon the ensigns' quarters, seized flags, and marched thus with colours flying in battle order to the wine market. When the standard bearers were marching along in good order, an arrogant Spaniard, desirous of gaining honour, of deserving the favour of his Imperial Majesty, and of immortalizing his name, sprang upon the ensign, and tore the flag out of his hands. The ensign was followed by three men-at-arms, one of them struck this wretch in two like a carrot, according to the saying: 'He who seeks danger perishes therein.' When the Landsknechte reached the wine market there was a great running to and fro of the Spanish soldiers, who beset all the streets leading to the wine market, and carried off the imprisoned Elector to the Emperor's palace, for they feared he might be taken away: all the inhabitants, especially merchants and tradesmen, who had collected costly goods, silk stuffs, silver and gold, pearls and precious stones on the occasion of the Diet, were greatly afraid lest the city should be plundered, which might well have happened had the Landsknechte sought to pay themselves. There arose therefore wild cries, uproar, and running about; every one armed himself in earnest, citizens and strangers kept to their houses and apartments arquebuse in hand and their guns ready to fire, and every one did what he could for the protection of his own, so that the Diet might indeed have become an armed one.
"But the Emperor sent to the Landsknechte to inquire what they wanted, and they, holding their guns in the left hand, and in the right, burning matches close to the touchhole, answered, 'Either money or blood?' Then the Emperor sent them word that they were to rest satisfied, as they should certainly be paid the next day. But they would not withdraw without the assurance that they would not be punished for having assembled in front of the Emperor's lodging. This the Emperor promised, so they withdrew, were paid the next day, and dismissed. But what happened? Some spies were sent out to mingle unperceived and travel for two or three days with the leaders of the Landsknechte, to find out whether they spoke ill or mockingly of his Imperial Majesty; if so, they were to call assistance and bring the men back prisoners to Augsburg. The second or third evening the Landsknechte had a jovial bout at an inn, for they had money in their pockets, and thought themselves as safe as if they were in the land of Prester John, and had no idea that there were traitors sitting with them: then they spoke of the Emperor in this fashion: 'Yes indeed! one ought to allow this Charles of Ghent to take soldiers and not to pay them! But we would have taught him better, and have paid him for it; may God confound him.' After these words they were seized, taken back to Augsburg, and hanged at Berlach on the gallows, and a tiny little flag stuck on the breast of each."--So far Sastrow.
By his account of the revolt of the German Landsknechte it may be seen how insecure was then the highest earthly power. A few years later the new Elector, Maurice of Saxony, was able in a moment by a sudden expedition to overpower the experienced master of foreign politics. Neither the Emperor nor any other prince maintained a large standing army; even the Imperial power stood on a rotten foundation, and the Emperor Charles was in a difficult position with respect to the German soldiery. However easy was the conscience of the Landsknechte, and however ready they were to sell themselves for money, they were yet not entirely without political tendencies. Most of them were well disposed towards the Protestants, and even those who had helped to overthrow their comrades of the Saxon service at the battle of Mühlberg, discovered with vexation after the combat, that they had given a deadly blow to the Protestant cause. The memory of Luther was dear to them; but far deeper lay their hatred for the Spanish soldiers of Charles, that faithful invincible infantry who had bled for their king on the battle-fields of half Europe. The Emperor had himself excited the civil war in Germany; a few years later, the German soldiers marched defiantly against his anointed head. Most of the German princes, even the enemies of the Ernestine and Hesse, felt like these soldiers. The great Emperor had made an irreparable rent in the loose tissue of the German empire; for this had been no exercise of Imperial power, as once against the mad Würtemberger; but it was a civil war in its broadest acceptation; it was a personal struggle of the Hapsburger against the German princes. Henceforth the German sovereigns knew what they had to expect from their Emperor: the last respect for order and duty to the Empire vanished, and each had cause to look after his own interests. The only safety against the fearful power of the Hapsburger was to be found in alliance with foreign sovereigns. More bold became the intercourse with France, and whoever opposed the Emperor looked there for help. Maurice of Saxony and Albrecht of Brandenburg rose against the Emperor in alliance with France. The German general, Schärtlin, who was in the French pay, assisted in depriving Germany of Metz, Toul, and Verdun. The younger princes of Germany went to the courts of the Valois, the Guises, and the Bourbon, to acquire refinement and obtain money and rank in the army; and this was done not only by the Protestant princes, but also by the Roman Catholics and even ecclesiastical Electors. The overpowering influence of France on the fate of the Fatherland dates not from the time of Richelieu, but from the wars of Charles V. The real disruption of the German empire dated from the battle of Mühlberg and the Diet of Augsburg; and however objectionable the alliance of these German princes with a foreign power may appear to us, it must not be forgotten, that it was owing to the un-German policy of the Imperial house. The destroyer of German self-dependence, the great Emperor, met with his punishment almost immediately. A very different man from the scrupulous and irresolute John Frederic, had received the electoral crown from Charles; his own disciple in self-seeking policy, with an overbearing character, without consideration, and secret in his resolves, like the Emperor himself. So Charles reaped what he had sown: the Landsknechte of Maurice drove him even to the last gorges of the Alps. The naked egotism of the Wettiner triumphed over the reckless policy of the great Hapsburger. What the lord of half Europe had striven for all his life, slipped out of his hands. Germany was not to be governed in his way; he had not been able to guide the great movement of the German mind, nor yet could he entirely destroy it. He had not succeeded in making the German princes serviceable to his house, nor had he been able to destroy their power. The far-seeing cautious player threw up his game, and quietly, as was his wont, laid down the cards. He himself, with a heavy heart, broke in two the power of his house.
This did not render the political position of Germany more hopeful. The life of Maurice also passed away like a meteor, and his wild associate Albrecht of Brandenburg died an early and miserable death.
Then followed the feuds of Grumbach and Cologne, the disputes of Jülich, and the disorders of Bohemia; one quarrel more contemptible than the other, and the leaders of both parties equally incapable. The end was the Thirty years' war.