THE
PERIOD OF THE REFORMATION,
x517 TO 1648,
BY LUDWIG HAUSSER
EDITED BY
WILHELM ONCKEN,
PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AT THE UNIVERSITY OF GIESSEN.
TRANSLATED BY MRS. G. STURGE
e' t11bition, complete in One eo.tumt.
AMERICAN.TRACT SOCIETY,
150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK.








TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
IT is unnecessary for me to say more than a very few
words in introducing, this work, by the late eminent
German historian, Professor Hausser, to English readers.
It contains not only a spirited sketch of the history of the
Reformation in Germany, Switzerland, France, Denmark,
Sweden and England, but also gives a comprehensive
survey of its influence on the course of thought and action
during the period of which it treats, and offers, in a compact
form, information which has otherwise to be sought for over
a wide field of literature. It is hoped, therefore, that it
will be no less interesting to English than to German
readers; that it will be found not merely to traverse well.
trodden ground, but that, from its comprehensiverfess, and
the learning, impartiality, and insigbt of the author, it will
prove a valuable addition to the history of the Reformati6n
period, It is translated with the sanction of the Editor,
$YDRsYAN, 7cngo 18S73.








PREFACE.
THIS history of the period from I5x?-I648 forms partt
of a course of lectures on the history of the three
centuries, 1517-1789, which Hausser used to deliver at
Heidelberg in the winter, and which, during the winter
half-year I859-60, I took down in shorthand.
They were preceded by an Introduction, which treated in
broad outline the history of the period preceding the
Reformation; but, unfortunately, I did not take it down.
This was followed by a brief review of the history of the
European States from X648-I789. Nothing has been decided
as to the publication of this; but among Haussers remains
there are ample materials for working it up.
The text which I now give to the public has originated in
essentially the same manner as that of the history of the
French Revolution which appeared last year, and which has
been received by the German press with unanimous approval. But in this case my MS. has had to form still more
exclusively the groundwork of the narrative; for not a s;gle
MS. has come to hand in answer to a public appeal; and
in consequence of the scanty material left, I have been
compelled to have independent recourse to the literature
referred to, to a far greater extent than was necessary in
the former case. There was full material for three sections only, and these could not be adopted unaltered: for




vi                    PREFACE,
Philip of Hesse, Maurice of Saxony, and the Thirty Years'
War, t632-48, which had only been cursorily treated in the
lectures. With these exceptions, for all the other sections
that were wanting in completeness I was obliged to refer to
the most important sources and materials. Such supplementary matter is introduced in many places in order to
complete characteristic descriptions and narratives by adding
specially- distinctive features, serving to authenticate the
statements in the text; but it is only in the most important
cases that they are indicated by notes.  Besides frequent
interpolations, which I could not specially indicate, most of
the passages in quotation marks have been inserted by me.
I need not say that my additions are not derived from the
views or judgments of foreign historians, but always from
original contemporary testimony. As a whole and in detail,
all that has been aimed at is what Hlausser would himself
have done could he have prepared a text for publication.
I lay claim to the predicate of a verbatim reproduction
of these lectures, as in the case of the history of the French
Revolution.  I have proceeded precisely in the same way
in preparing them for publication, and have received express
and ample testimony from many former hearers of Hiusser
that I have succeeded in finding the right method. Nevertheless, I must remind those who have never undertaken a
similar task, of the great difference between words heard
and read.  For this difference, with which a speaker is
perfectly familiar, and which is especially striking when
there is a gift for improvisation, the shorthand writer must
have a practised eye.  In most cases it is indispensable
to give a certain finish in the choice of words and construction of sentences in preparing for the press. If the
speaker does not give it himself, the shorthand writer must
tbkIe it in hand, and must be guided by tact.  No rules




PREFACE.                    Vii
can be laid down, but it is not unnecessary'to call attention
to it.
The consciousness of the great responsibility which rested
on my shoulders occasioned me to plead, in the preface to
the history of the French Revolution, for a lenient judgment. I repeat the request now, but with more confidence,
for I judge with' pleasure from the appreciative notices of
the most eminent organs of our press, that that which I
proffered before was not made in vain.
And so I send forth this second posthumous production
of Hausser's mind, hoping that, like the other, it.will find
its way to the hearts of the German people, to whom he
belonged with every fibre of his being.
W. ONCKWEN
IIEULVRoG, Wy,3rd, t86








CONTENTS.
PART I.
HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION IN GERMAN  TO
THE TREATY OF NUREMBERG,  5i.
CHAPTER 1.
PAGI
Martin Luther. November,. 1483, to February, 1546.-Youth. —
Eisleben.-Mansfeld. —Magdeburg.-Eisenach.-Life in the
Monastery at Erfurt.-Theological Development.-Justification by Faith....                           
CHAPTER IL
58 —5I$0.
Call to Wittenberg, t5o. —Journey to Rome, tiSo..-The Indtl.
gence of 5Ii7.-Attempts of Leo. X. (elected Pope 15r3) at
Mediation.-Cajetan atthe Diet of Augsburg, October, x5t8.Miltitz's Discussion with Luther at Altenburg, IiI9.-Dispue
tation at Leipzig, 27th June-I3th July, I5Ig.-The Turningpoint with Luther....  13
CHAPTER III.
The Last Days of Maximilian I., January, 15r9.-Election of a
new Emperor.-Francis I. of France and Charles V. of Spain.
-Political Position of the Emperor Charles V.-The Election
in June.-The Election Bond, 3rd July, 519..,9




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
FPAGC
The Diet of Worms, Spring of I52I.-Agrcement between the
Emperor and the Pope.-Negotiations about Luther.-The
Mandate of 8th-26th May, 152. —Growth of the Regal
Pover in France under Francis I., I515-47. —His Domestic
and Foreign Policy.-The First War, 152I.-26..   42
CHAPTER V.
The Situation of Germany during the absence of Charles V.Luther in the Wartburg. -The Translation of the, Bible and
its Significance.-Luther and the Radicals at Wittenberg.The Eight Sermons against Carlstadt, March, 1522.-Luther's
cause before the Imperial Chamber and the Diqt of Nuremberg, I522-23.-The Resolution of January 13th, 1523.-The
One Hundred Gravamina.-The Decree about the Preaching
of the Gospel...,.  64
CHAPTER VI.
Reform  and Revolution. —The Nobles of the Empire.-Ulrich
von Hutten, 1488-1523.-Franz von Sickingen, the Feud of
1522, and the Catastrophe of 1523.-Reaction upon the
Reformation.-Activity of the Curia.-Adrian VI., January,
1522, to September, I523.-Clement VII., September, 1534.
The Convention of Ratisbon, July, 1524.      *   72
CHAPTER VII.
The Great Peasants' War, 1524-5.-The increasing Oppression of
the Peasantry.-The Prelude to the Peasants' War in 1514.
-Influence of the Reformation.-The Twelve Articles.-The
Heilbronn Scheme.-Thomas Mfinzer.-Luther's Attitude. —
The Catastrophe, May and June, 1525.   ~   ~,. 92
CHAPTER VIII.
Reaction of the Revolution upon the Reformation.-Charles V.
and the Peace of Madrid.-The Diet of Spire, August, 1526. —
Spread of the Reformation.-Its share in the National Dis.
ruption.-The New War in Italy.-The League of Cognac,
May, 1526.-The Storming of Rome by the Imperial Troops,
1527.-Advance of the French to Naples, and Dissolution bf
their Army there, 1528.-Peace of Barcelona and Cambray,
1529.-The League between the Pope, the Empe'ror, and the
King against the Heretics     *  o             ~.    Iob




CHAPTER IXt
PAO9
Reaction of Italian Affair'upon Germany. —Aggravation of the
State of Affairs by Otto von Pack. —Altered Relation of
Parties.-The Diet of Spire and the Protest of the Lutheran
Party, April, x529.I —Te Turks before Vienna, I529. —Diet
of Augsburg and the Confession of Augsburg, June 25th,
53o. —Threats against the Protestants; their first Meeting
and League at Schmalkald, December, 1530-March, 1531.Danger from the Turks, and the Religious Peace of Nurem.
berg, July 23rd, 1533                                  1.. *  *  13
PART IL.
THE REFORMATION IN THE OTHER GERMAI[C
STATES; IN SWITZERLAND, DENMARKI
SWEDEN, AND ENGLAND.
CHAPTER X.
WilE RF.ORMATION IN SWIT2MUL@
Early Life and Mental Development of Ulrich Zwingli, 1484x5g9.-Study of the Classics. —Curate at Glarus, Izo6s-6. —
Study of the New Testament.-Sermon against the Desertion
of their Country by the Swiss. — Labours at Einsiedeln,
15I6-18.-Call to Zurich.-The Reformation at Zurich, I5i1g
a5.-Zwingli's Sermons in the Great Cathedral.-Decree of
the Council of i520.-The Sixty-seven Articles of I523. —
Progress of Reform.-Reformed Zurich and Switzerland inl
526 —31....... e                                      1S5
CHAPTER XL
DENMARK.'~he Period between the Union of Calmar, 1397, and theReforma.
lion.-Position of the Danish Monarchy.-Policy and Cha.
racter of Christian II., I 3-23. — Complications with Sweden.
-The Massacre of Stockholm, November, 1520.-:Course of
Reform  in Denmark.-Revolt of the Nobles.-Election of
Frederic I., April, 1523-33. —His Domestic and Foreign
Policy. —The Diet at Odensee, 1527, and Toleration of the
New Doctrianes.-Complete Victory of the Reformation under
Christian TIL, 1534-59.,..   43




Xli                     CONTENTS&
CHAPTER XII.
SWEDEN.
PACa
The Revolt under Gustavus Vasa, 1523-6o-His Character and
Policy. —r52 Regent, 1523 King of Sweden.-Internal and
external Embarrassment of his Position.;-Struggle with the
Clergy. —-Decree of the Diet of Westeris, 1527.-The Reformation.-Extension of the Royal Power.-Indepeiidence and
internal Prosperity of the Country....   ~ 153
CHAPTER XIII.
ENGLAND.
Zngland before the Tudors-Henry VIII., I509-1547. —His Character and Attitude at first towards the Church.-His Oppostion to the Reformation which was demanded by the Mental
Development of the Nation.-The Complications with Rome.
—.The  Marriage  Question,  1526-29.-Wolsey's  Fall.Breach with Rome.-The Royal Supremacy, 1534. —The
Religious War against Catholics and Protestants.-The Secularisation of ~Monasteries.-The Six Articles of 1593.. 163
PART III.
THE-GERMAN REFORMATION FROM THE PEACE
OF NUR.EMBERG TO THE PEACE OF
AUGSBURG, 1532-55.
CHAPTER XIV.
Favourable Circuimstances for the Reformation from 1532-42. —
The Restoration in WVirtemberg, 1534.-Spread of tile new
Doctrines in spite of the Excesses at Miinster and the Revolution at Lubeck, 1533-35.-The Emperor's Attempts at
Conciliation, 1537-41.-His View of the Question.-Instruc.
tions and Proceedings of Vice-Chancellor Held.-The League
of Nuremberg, June, 1538.-The Discussion of Religion, the
Interim of Ratisbon, and- the Decree of the Diet, July 29th,
154;r.-Decided Progress of Protestantism, 1538-42.-Adoption of it by Brandenburg and the Duchy of Saxony, x539. —
Interference of the League of, Schumalkald and the Contro.
ersy at Cologne      i...   o... ~    7




CHAPTER XV,
PAan
The Schmalkald War, 1546-7.-The Emperor's Preparations for
War after t544- Security, Dissensions, and Negligence of
the Schmalkald Party, 1545-6.-Duke Maurice of Saxony,
his Character and Policy.-League with the Emperor, June,
g546. —The War, from the summer of 1546 to the spring of
1547. —Pitiful Warfare of the Allies on the Danube.-Invasion of Electoral Saxony by Maurice.-Battle of MOhlberg,
24thApril, 1547..     ~a   * ~.~ 96
CHAPTER XVI.
Intetim and Restoration, 1548.-The Council of Trent froem 13th
of December, 1545, and the Diet of ~Augsburg from September, 1547. a...     e         *.Us
CHAPTER XVIIL
Niaurlce and the Conspiracy of the German Princes.-IsoTation of
the Elector among both Catholics and Protestants,-The
Negotiations with France.-The Coalition against the Em.
peror.-Treaty with France, and Surprise of the Emperor,
155i-2.-Treaty of Chambord, January, 1552. —-March of the
Allies, March, 1552.-Security and Defiance of the Emperor.
— Taking of the Ehrenberger Klause, May, 1552.-Charles's
Flight. —.The Treaty of Passau and the Peace of Augsburg,
August, 1552-September, 1555.-Charles's Retreat and Last
Days —Geaeral Results of the Reformation in Germany       z26
PART IV.
c E;ALVDISM AND THE BEGINNING OF CATHOLIC
RESTORATION.
CHAPTER XVIIL
Calvih's Youth.-Characteristics of the Man and his System. —
The "Institutio Religionis Christians," 1536.-Calvin's
Ecclesiastical State in Geneva.-The Attempt, 1536 —8.Success, 154I-64.-The Organization of January, 1542. —
Ecclesiastical and Moral Discipline Of Calvinism, and its
Historical Importance..   *   *.   *. 241




CHAPTER  XIX,
Reformation and Restoration  in Italy,-Divis1Gon of Oplnion
among the People.-Vacillation oi the Curia.-Opinion of the
Cardinals on Refiorm -in I537-.'Conciliatory Attitude till
T541.-The Council of Trent and the Catholic Restoration,.First Meeting of the Council, December, 1545-7.-Rudeness
of the Curia to the Emperor and Protestants.-Second Meet.
ing, May, 155i. —Pope Paul IV. (Caraffa), 1555-9. Third.Meeting, January, 1562, to the end of 1563. —Pope Pius IV.,
1559-65. —Progress and Results of the Negotiation.-Increased Consolidation ot the Ecclesiastical Power.-Precau.
tions against Sectarianism.-Reconstruction of the shattered
Religious System.-Improvement in the Intellectual and
Moral Training of the Clergy.  ~.                        S. a~6
CHAPTER XX.
THE JESUITS AND THE INQUISITION.
Ignatius Loyola and the Society of Jesus. —Spanish Catholicism,
-Loyola's Spiritual Knighthood, from I52 i.-Organization
of the Order, from the time of its Authorisation, x540.-.Its
Cohstitution, Principles, Discipline, and Tactics.-The Inqui.
sition.-The Instructions of Cardinal Caraffa.-Censorship of
the ]ress.., 0    265
PART V.
PHILIP Il INa SPAIN, AND THE REVOLT IN THE
NETHERLANDS.
CHAPTER XXI.
SPAIN UNDER CHARLES V. AND PHILIP n1.
The Ecclesiastical-political Plans of Philip, I565-98.-The Absolute Monarchy in Spain under Charles V.-Philip's Inheritance.-His  Character.-Amalgamation  of Spiritual and
Temporal Despotism in Spain    O             o o.76




CONTENTS.                         xv
CHAPTER XXII.
THE REVOLT IN THE NETHERLANDS.
P11A
Histo.y, Government, Country, and People of the Seventeen Provinces before Philip II. —Philip's Policy in the Netherlands
after November, 1555.-The Regency and the Aristocracy:
Orange, Egmont. Margaret of Parma, Bishop Perrenot
(Granvella).-The Spanish Troops.-The Increase of Bishop.
ics — The Inquisition in the Netherlands.-Tactics of Charles
V.-The Renewal of the Edict of I50o.-Granvella's Re.
moval,  564. —Egmont's Joutney and the Compromise,
January,!565.-Spring of i566.-The Beggars' League.The Field-preaching and Attack upon Imnages, April to
August, I566.-Deteat of the Volunteer Army of the Beggars
at Anstruveel, March, 1567.-The Departure of William of
Orange from the Netherlands, April, I567...  285
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Duke of Alba in the Netherlands. —His Entry into the
Country. -Alba's Characteristics.-Disappointment of the
Regent.-Guilelessness of Egmont and Horn.-Their Impri.
sonment, 9th of September.-The Council of Disturbances. —
Executions, and the First War of Independence, I567-8. —
Members, System, and Proceedings of the Council of Blood.
Louis of Nassau in Friesland, April —uly, r568.-Success at
Heiliger Lee in May.-Death of Egmont and Horn, 5th of
June.-Alba's Victory, July.-Advance of Orange and Dissolution of his Army, October.-Highest Point and Decline of
Alba's System, I569-73.-The" loth Penny " March, I569.
-The "Amnesty," I4th July, I570.-The Sea Beggal-s at
Brill, ist April, 1572.-Louis of Nassau at BMons, May.-The
Rising in Holland and Zealand.-..Second Campaign of Wil.
liam of Orange frustrated by the Massacre of St. Bartholomew.-Alba's Retreat, December, 1573.... 3I3
CHAPTER XXIV.
ALBA'S SUCCESSORS IN THE NETHERLANDS.
Character of the War which now began.-Requesens y Zuniga,
1$73-76.-Defeat and Death of Louis of Nassau on the
Mooker Haide, 14th of April, 1574.-Siege and Succour of
Leyden, 26th of May to 3rd of October, I574. —Separation
between the Northern and Southern Provinces.-The Interregnum.-The Great Mutiny of the Soldiers.-The Pacification of Ghent, 8th of November, I576-78. —Alexander
Farnese, Prince of Parma, 1587-89.-The Union of Utrecht,
anuary, 1579, and Declaration of Independence of the Seven
Northern Provinces, July, 1581.-Murder of William, July
10, 1584 m..                      ~..       ~.329




PART VI.
THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE, UNTIL THE
REtSTORATION OF THE KINGDOM BY HENRY, IV.
CHAPTER XXV.
The last War' with Spain and England, i15579. —Defeat at St.
Quentin, 1557, and Gravelingen, 1558.-Taking of Calais,
Peace of Cateau Cambrasis, 3rd April, 1559.-Catharine de
Medici and the Government of the Guises.-French Protes.
tantism in Conflict with the State.-The Clergy, Humanism,
the Sorbonne and Parliament.-First Agitation of the New
Doctrines.-Persecution of the Heretics after  555.-The
Aristocracy and the Princes of the Blood attacked by Cal.
vinism.-The Conspiracy of Amboise, March, I56o.-Crisn
and Change after the Death of King Francis II., 5th December, I56o.-Successes of Protestantism, 1559.-La Re-.
naudie's Project.-Cond's Trial. —Catharine de dMedici as
Regent...                              o      ~ 345
CHAPTER XXVL
carws X., 156o-74, AND TEM HUGUENOTS, UNTIL 1570.
The First Coipromise with the Reform Party.-The States- of
the Empire at Orleans,  56o-6.-T —he Discussion on Reli.
gon at Poissy, Autumn of S56i. —The Edict of 17th January,
i562.-The Three First Religious Wars, t562-70. —The
Massacre at Vassy, March, 1562.-(Character of the Civil
War.-The First Religious War.-Battle of St. Dreux, December, 1562. —Edict of Amboise, March, I563.-.-The Second
Religious War, 1567-8.-The Edict of Longjumeaux,;March,
z568.-The Third Religious War, x569-7o. —Victories of
the Catholics at Jarnac and. Moncontour.-Religious Peace
of St. Germain-en-Laye, August,, I7o.-G Charabte  of
Charles IX I......       -  ~;
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW,
Coligny at Court, and the War with Spain, September, 57 —July, 1572.-The Massacre, 24th August, 1572, and the
Fourth Religious War, 1572-3. —End of Charles IX., 30th
MaY, t74..                            36




CONTENTS.                       xvii
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HIENRY III., 1574-89, AND THE LEAGUE.
PAGE
Character of Henry.-The Edict of May, 1576, and the Holy
League of the Guises.-Protracted Vacillation. —Death of
Francis of Anjou, June, I584, and Contest about the Succession.-The  War of the Three Henrys, I588-9.-The
Barricades of Paris, May, I588.-The States at Blois, October,
1588, and the Murder of the Two Guises, 23rd and 24th
December, I588.-Flight and.Murder of Henry III., August
znd, 1589 ~               ~ ~..... 375
CHAPTER XXIX.
HENRY IV.} 1589-x6IO.
Character of Henry IV.-His Struggle for the Crown, I789-93. —
Dissolution of the Opposing Party.-Charles of Mayenne, the
Parisian Demagogues, Plans of Philip II.-Henry's Conversion to Catholicism; Motives for and Consequences of this
Step.-Henry's Administration, I59$4i6io. —- Peace of Vervins, May, I598.-Edict of Nantes, i598.-Sully's Administration.-Plan of a Great Protestanrt All'anuce against Spanish
Hapsburg.-Henry's Murder, by Ravaillac, I4th May, 16io. 382
PART VII.
THE GERMAN EMPIRE, FROM THE PEACE OF AUGS.
BURG TO THE THIRTY  YEARS' WAR, I555-1618.
CHAPTER XXX.
GENERAL SITUATION OF GERMANY AFTER 1555.
impotence of the Empire.-Continuance of the Contest of the
Creeds  a.....                             402
CHAPTER XXXI.
PROTESTANTISM IN AUSTRIA.
Ferdinand I., x558-64. —Maximilian II., I564-76.-Rudolph II.,
1576-1612.-The Bohemian Royal Charter (Majestditsbrief),
i609.-Duke Maximilian of Bavaria and the Imperial City of
Donauw6rth, i606-7.-The Protestant Union, i6o8, and the
Catholic League, I6o9.-Matthias, 62-19... 407
b




xviii                    CONTENTS.
PART VIII.
FIRSt PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.-THE
BOHEMIIAN, PALATINATE, AND DANISH WARS,
362o-29.
CHAPTER XXXII.
PAGe
First Acts of Ferdinand II., from March, r6g19.-His Character
and Education.-Beginning of his Reign in Revolutionary
Austria.-Election of Emperor, August, 16rg9.-The Winter
Kingdom of Frederick V., and the War in Bohemia.-The
Battle of Weissenberg, near PLague, 8th November, I620.The Catholic Reaction in Bohemia and the Palatinate, I62I 415
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE DANISH WAR, I625-29, AND ALBRECHT OF WALLENSTE[N.
Change of Sentiment.-The Protestant League: England, Holland, Denmark, I625.-Christian IV. of Denmalk.-Albrecht
von XVallenstein.-His Character.-The War of I626-8.Defeat of Mansfeld at Dessani, April, I626.-Defeat of Chris.
tian IV. at Lutter, on the Barenberg, August, I626.-WaJlenstein and Tilly in North Germany, Mecklenburg, Stralsund,
1628.-Peace of Lubeck, May, I629.-The Edict of Restilution, March, I629, and its Significance.-Machinations of'the
League against Wallenstein.-The Meeting of Princes at
Ratisbon.-Dlsmissal of Wallenstein, June, I630..  428
PART IX.
SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS" WAI.GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
SWEDEN AND GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUtS.
Sweden bqfore Gustavus Adolphus.-E Eric XIV.,  56-68. —
John 1II.. I568-92, and Charles of Siidermanland.-Charles
as Regent, 1592-i604.-Charles IX. as King, 1604-II. —
Gustavus Adolphus in Sweden, i6I I-30.-Position of Affairs
at the beginning of his'Reign.-Political, Mllitary, and Domestic Reforms.-Wars with Denmaik, Russia, and Poland.
-— The Contest for the Baltic,  o   b,*.~ 444




CONTENTS.                         Xix
CHAPTER XXXV.
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS IN GERMANY, -630-32.
PAGe
Origin and Significanlce of the Swedish WVTr.-Motives, Political
and Religious, ot Gustavus Adolphs:-Clharacteristics of
hinm and his Army.-Thelr Landing and First Successes,
June-December, 1630.-Gustavus Adolphus in Pomerania.
-Siege of Stettin; Treaty. with Duke Bogeslav.-Tedious
Advance into Pomerania.-lmperial troops driven out of
Pomerania, December, 1630.-Lreaty of Brvrwald, January,
I63I.-Convention of Leipzig, and Fall of Magdeburg, May,
163. —Electoral Brandenburg and Electoral Hesse Join Gus.
tavus Adolphus, June-August.-Battle of Breitenfeld, Sep.
tember 7, 163x.-Victorious  l.arch of (iustavuis Adolphus
towards Soutl) and West Gernmany, October-December, 1631.
-Plans for Restoration.-Overthrow  ot the Power of the
Leagtie.-Return  of Wallenstein, April, l632.-Battle of
Liitzen, x6th. November, 1632.-Death of Gustavus Adol.
phus and its Significance.....        45
PART X.
THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.RICHELIEU, OXENSTIERNA, AND  BERNHARD
VON WEIMAR.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
FRANCE AFTER THE DEATH OF HENRY W.
Louis XIII., i610-43, and Mary of Medici.-The Parliament of
I614.-Murder of the Marshal d'Ancre, April, I617.-The
Duke ot Luynes.-Cardinal Richelieu, I624-42, and Louis
Xlo1.-Characteristics of both. —-Riche;ieu's political method.
-His testamnert.-His rule at home and abroad.-Fall ot La
Rochelle, 1628.-The affair in the Valteline and the War
about MaMta, 1630........ 483
CHAPTER XXXVII.
GERMANY FROM THE DEATH OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS TO WALLEN.
STEIN'S CATASTROPHE. NOVEMBER, I632-FEBRUARY, 1634.
Dissensions in -the Swedish Camp: Oxenstierna and Bernhard of
Weimar.-Beginning of the French Negotiations.: Marquis de




xx                      CONTENTS.
Feuquieres. —The Treaty of Heilbronn, April 23rd, 1633. —
Wallenstein's ambiguous conduct of the war in 1633.-Negotiations with Saxony. The letter of December 26th, I633. —
The B6nd of Pilsen, January 12th, I634.-The murder at
Eger, February 2Sth, 634...   *       ~ *.    501
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE WAll FROM THE BATTLE OF NURDLINGEN, 634, TO BERNRARD'S
DEATH, I639.
Defeat of the Swedish army at N6rdlingen. -Oxenstierna's fraitless
negotiations.-The peace of Prague, t635.-Its significance
and results.-Baner's victories and vicissitudes, I636-7. —Victories and death olf Bernhard of Weimar, 1638-9 5,,.14
PART XI
END OF THE WAR.-THiE PEACE OF WESTPHAIA.
1640.48.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
SAIER'S END, MAy, ~64I. AND TORS.TENSON'S VICTORIES, 1642-5.
Battle of Leipzig, 2nd November, x643. —Campaign against Denmark, I643-44. —Victory near Jankowitz, February, I645.Simultaneous warfare of the French.-The Peace Negotiations and end of the War.-The Diet of Ratisbon from September, I640.-Brandenburg's Proposition of Unconditional
Amnesty, and Restoration to the Condition of 16i8.-Thd
Hamburg Preliminaries, December, i64I.-The Meeting of
Deputies at Frankfort, x642-45.-Beginning of the Peace
Congress and end of the War, i644-48   *... 537
CHAPTER XL
ItHE PEACE 0F WESTPHALIA..   o   ~   ~.    46




CONTENTS.                        Nxi
PART XII.
COMPLETION OF THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
CHAPTER XLI.
THE REFORMATION OF THE PROTESTANT CHURCH UNDER
EDWARD V1., 1547-53.
PAGE
The inheritance of Henry VIT.-Character of the young King.The first Protector, Edward, Duke ol Somerset, 1549.-The
second Protector, Earl of Walwick, Duke of Northumberland, I553.-Character of the Church Reform, Bible, Cate.
chism, Book of Common Prayer, Abolition of the.Mass,
Celibacy. &c.-The Catholic reaction under Mary, 1553-8.Abolition of the Ecclesiastical Laws of Edward VI., and
first acts of revenge.-Marriage with Philip II. of Spain,
554.-The Question of Chuich Property.-Parliament and
the Laws concerning Heresy.- The Ordeal by fire of English
Protestantism.-The untenable position of the Government
after the loss of Calais and the Breach of the Constitution. 56o
CHAPTER XLII.
QUEEN E.,LIZABETH, I558-i603.
Cautious beginnings.-The Parliament of 1559 and the Re-establishment of the Anglican Church.-Beginniug of the conflict with Mary-Stuart.-Tlhe Reformation in Scotland, John
Knox.-Mary Stuart in Scotland,  56 I-8.-Darnley.- Rizzio.
-Bothwell.-Mary Stuart in England.-Attitude of Rome
and Spain against Elizabeth. —The Conspiracies.-Norfolk,
i569-1572.-Elizabeth's forced enmity towards Rome and
Spain, I572-85.-Conspiracy of Savage and Babington.Mary Stuart's Txial and Execution, 1586-7. —The Spanish
Armada and Elizabeth's last days, j603.. 57
PART XIII.
THE REVOLUTION AND REPUBLIC IN ENGLAND.
CHAPTER XL1II.
JAMES I., I603-25.
Character of the Monarch and unfavourable beginning of his Reign.
-The Gunpowder Plot, November., 1605.-The Contests of




xxii                     CONTENTS.
PAGE
162a.-Trial of Lord Bacon of Verulam..-The Question of
taking part in the Bohemian-Palatinate War. —The Difficulties
of Parliarnent.-Address of November, i62x, and Dissolution
of Parliament.-The Spanish Marriage Scheme. Buckingham
and the Prince of Wales.-Change in the Policy of England.
-The Parliament of I624.-Death of James, April, 6a25. 603
CHAPTER XLIV.
Charles I., I625-49.-His Character.-The first two Parliaments,
1625-26.-The War with Spain and France.-The third and
last Parliament.-The Petition of Right, 62-8.-9.Charl es I.
without a Parliament.-The Earl of Strafibrd.-Archbishop
Laud.-The Star Chamber.-The High Commission.-$hip
Money, x634.-John Hampden's Trial, t637.         e 6X6
CHAPTER XLV.
THE TURN OF EVENTS.
Th Complications in Scotland, 1637-39.-The Tumult at Edin.
burgh.-The Covenant, I638.-The General Assembly at
Glasgow, November, z638.-The Fourth Parliament, I640o.-.
The Long Parliament.-First Measures against the Policy
and Representatives of Strafford's System. —Indictment,
Trial, and Execution of Strafford, May, 641    e     63
CHAPTER XLVI.
OPEN BREACH BETWEEN THE XING AND PARLIAMENT.
The King in Scotland, August, i64i.-Massacre of the Protestants
in Ireland.-Return of Parliament in October, and the Separation of Parties into Cavaliers and Roundheads.-The Great
Remonstrance, November, and the unsuccessful Coup d'Etat,
January 3rd and 4th, I642.-Commotions in London.-The
irst Parliamentary Army.-Departure of the Kingo-Return
of Parliament, January sith, i642..       a.. 64
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE CIVIL WAR.
Prospects of both Parties.-Victories of the Royalists, October,
5642, to September, x643.-Interposition of the Scots.Presbyterians and Independents.-Defeat of the Royalists at
Marst6n Moor, July, and at Newbury, October, 644. —
Oliver Cromwell-.-The Self-denying OrdimAnce.. 651




CONTENTS.                      Xfii
CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE CATASTROPHE OF CHARLES AND OF THE PARLIAMENT.
PAGE
Defeat of Charles at Naseby, June, 1645. —Ie takes refuge with.
the Scots, who sell him to the Presbyterians.-Mutiny of the
Army against Parliament.-Abduction of the King.-March
to London.-First Purge of Parliament, August, I647.-The
King's Flight to the Isle of Wight.-His Trial and Execu.
tion, 3oth January, r649.                           664
CHAPTER XLIX.
THE COMMONWfALTH, WITHOUT KING OR HOUSE OF LORDS.
Cromwell's Position after the Death of Charles; —Parties, Republic and Monarchy.-Subjugation of Ireland and Scotland, 1649-5I.-War with Holland.-The Navigation Act,
October, T65I, and the Peace of April, I654. —The Constitutional Exp)eriments.-Dismissal of the Long Parliament.The Constitution of December, i653.-The Parliament oi
1654-5, and the Military Government.-The Parliament of
1656-7.-Proposal of a Monarchy.-The Upper H use of
January, i658.-Cromwell's Death, 3rd September, 1658.ichard Cromwell and the end of the Republic.   *. 673








PART 1.
HISTORY OF THE REFORMATTION IN GERMANY TO
THE TREATY OF NUREMBERG, 1532.*
CHAPTER I.
Martin Luther. November, 1483, to February, 1546. —Youth.Eisleben.-Manlsfeld.-Magdeburg.-Eisenach.-Life in the Mo.
nastery at Erfurt.-Theological Developmrent.-Justification by
Faith.
N the state of things which existed about the year 1517,
a trifling incident might have been the spark which
was to set the whole nation in a flame-an insignificant man
might have given the impetus to that which was inevitable.
But events did not take this course; the exciting cause was
indeed scarcely proportionate to the results, but the indi* Literature: —For the reign of Maximilian, see Mfiller, Reichstagtheatrum. Jena, I719; and Reichstagstaat. Jena, 70o9. Datt, De
Pace Imperii Publica. Ulm, i098. Chmel, Urkunden zur Geschichte
Maximilian's. Stuttg., I845. Monum. Habsburgica. Ed. Lanz, I853.
I. Fontes rer. austr. Ed. Karajan, I855.  I. I. Monum. Habsburg.
Ed. Chmel, 1854, ff. io ii. Klhipfel, Urkunden zur Geschichte des
Schwab. Bundes. Stuttg., 1846, i. L. Ranke, Geschichte der Romanischen und Germanischen V8lker von I494-1535. Berliin, 1824. Hegewisch, Geschichte Maximilian's. Hamburg, 1782. On the Reformation and Karl V., besides the writings of the Reformers. Luther's Werke.
Ed. WValch, and lis Letters edited by De W\ette. Luther's W'erke.
Etlangen, I826-57, 67 Bde. Melancthon's Schriften im Corpus Reformatorum. Ed. Bretschneider; then L6rscher, complete Reformations acta. Leipzig, 172o. HIortleder, Handlungen und Ausschreiben
von den lUrsachen des Kriegs K. Karl V. wider die Schmalkald.
Bundesverwandten, Frankfort, I617. Lehman, De Pace ReligionisActa
Publica. Franlfort, 1707.  F6rstemann, Urkundenbuch. Hamburg,
1841. Sleidanus, De Statu Religionis et Reipublice, CaroleV. Caesare
Argent, 1555. Ed. Am Ende, Frankfort, I785. Spalatinus, Annales
Reformat, Leipzig, 1758. The same, Chronicon bei Menken, T. I.
I




2         TIE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
vidual whose theses were to remodel the world was a man
of the first class-so great, so eminent, that he was not
engulfed in the stream of events, but struggled with them,
guided and ruled them until his death.
Martin Luther was completely the child of those deeply
agitated times, and a true son of the people whose leader
he was destined to be. He had all the traits of the true
German character, the downright sincerity, the steady
endurance, the deep and earnest inwardness, united with
a tendency to mysticism, to gloomy atnd ascetic views of
life, which were then peculiar to the more earnest minds
among our people. The agonizing spiritual conflicts, tile
fierce struggles, the sharply defined contrasts of that great
transition period can scarcely be so distinctly traced in
the career of any other historical personage. We see his
cheerful Thurilgian nature in perpetual conflict with  the
dark results of medieval monasticism; we see a childlike
and modest disposition united with A defiant and passionate
spirit; together with the deep contrition, the tears and groans
of a soul struggling for redemption, he displayed the lionhearted courage of a hero of the faith, and the lenient and
reasonable judgments he passed upon  human affairs are
often in strange contrast with the unyielding, relentless
rigour of the monk and the priest.
Seckendorf, Commentarius de Lutheranismo. Frankfort, I688. Joh.
Coch1ei, Comment. de Actis et Scriptis M. Lutheri. lIogunt, I549.
Charles V. in particular,-Sepulveda, De Rebus Gestis, Caroli, I657.
Sandoval, Historia de la Vida del Emp. Carlos, I604 if. 2 Bde. K.
Lanz, Correspondenz Karl's V. In the Royal Archives, &c. Leipzig,
i844, 3 Bde. The same, State Papers of the History of Charles V.
Stuttg., I845. Briefe Karl's V. an seinen Beichtvater. Edited by
Heine. Berlin, I848.  Die Urkunden sammlung yon Gachard und
Le Glay. Monumenta Habsburgica, vol. ii. I853. Relating-to Luther:
K. Jiirgens, Leben Luther's, I846, i. ii. iii.  This part in generalL. Ranke, Deutsche Geschichte im Zeitalter der Reformation. Berlin,!853, 2 Aufl. 6 B/nde. K.A. A.enzel, Neuere Geschichte der Deutschen
seit der Reformation. Breslau, I826, if. 6 Aufl. Berlin, 1854, 6 Bande.
K. Hagen, Deutschlands literar, und relig. Verbiltnisse im Reforma.
tionszeitalter. Erl. I84I, 3 Thle. Neudecker, Geschichte der Deutschen
Reformation. Leipzig, 1842.  His Urkunden aus der Reformationszeit, I836, und Merkwiirdige Aktenstiicke, I838, 2 Thle. Forstemann,
Urkundenbuch zur Reform. Geschichte, I842. Spalatins Nachlass,
Herausg. vonNeudecke, I85I. Strauss, D. F. Leben Ulrichs von Hutten,
i857, 2Thle. Bischof, Seb. Frankfort, I857. Rossmann, Betrachtungen
fber das Zeitalter der Reformation, I858.  Gust. Pfizer, Luther's
Leben. Stuttgard, 1836. Burkhardt, Luther's Brieft (emendation of
De Wette's edition), i866.




MAR.TI  LU THERo                   3
A creative master of our language, both in writing and
speaking, a bold yet moderate reformer, an embodiment of
our noblest characteristics,  he became a blessing to the
whole nation.
He was born in very narrow circumstances, on the Ioth
of November, I483. - The home of his family was at M6hra,
near Altenstein, in Thuringia, and the name of Luther still
occurs there, His father, a slate-cutter by trade, had emigrated to the rich mining district of Eisleben to find work, and
there Luther came into the world. The characteristics of the
Thuringian race are strongly marked, and are clearly distinguishable in him. It may be known everywhere by its sturdy
simplicity, and an untonstrained, fresh, and joyous temperament.  It forms, to a certain extent, the connecting link
between what has been called North and South German
individuality; many of the characteristics of both are united
with it: together -with the North German repose, reserve,
and sobriety, we find the keen enjoyment of life and cheerfulness of the South German character, and the combination may be traced in Luther.
He was thoroughly the child of the Thuringian peasantry.
Although he lived almost exclusively in towns, and now
and thenr said bitter things of the peasant class, still he
remained a peasant's son in the best sense of the word, and
was proud of it.  I' I am a peasant's son," he says in his
i' Table-Talk;"' "my father, grandfather, and ancestors were
all peasants." The training in the parental home was strait,
strict, and harsh, not well adapted to cherish the love of
harmony, the profound and kindly serenity which never
left him in his later years.
Both parents worked very hard to support their children;
the mother, po her son tells us, herself carried the wood on
her back; the father spent his life.a a poor miner.  Hans
Luther aways comes before us as a sturdy, energetic man,
with an air of great strictness, if not severity; he was
devoted with his whole soul to the ancient faith, but was
none the less a bitter foe of corrupt monasticism.
Luther's youth was not a happy one. We shall make the
acquaintance of another reformer, also a peasant's son;
but his patents were well to do, he was treated like the child
of rich people, giew up in a free state, and was early accustomed to think about and take part in public affairs,
Luther's lot was very differeto  I-Id knew what it was to




4        THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
raise himself out of the dust, and in after life lie often
spoke of what such as he have to bear. Having nothing
whereof "to boast and brag," he learns to trust in God
betimes, " to suffer and hold his peace."
But notwithstanding his limited means, Luther's father
had an ambition to make, something better of him than a
miner; but, at all events, he treated him with the greatest
severity, and in this his wife was entirely of one mind
with him.  He was harshly punished for trifles; corporal
chastisement was a very common thing; he never forgot
how he was cruelly flogged for childish faults; how even
his mother whipped him about a nut till she drew blood..
He said that it had an effect on his whole after life.
"My parents' severity made me timid; their sternness
and the strict life they led me made me afterwards go into
a monastery and become a nmonk. They heartily meant
it well, but they did not understand the art of adjusting
their punishments."
He did not fare much better at the school at Mansfeld,
where -his parents lived from  1484 to 1497; the teachers
behaved to the pupils "like gaolers to thieves." He was
soundly thrashed fifteen times in one afternoon, and all his
life spoke with horror of the "purgatory of schools, where
we are martyred over the casua/ibus and ltemporahibus, and
yet learn nothing from all this flogging but terror, fear, and
misery."
But it was a lasting satisfaction to him that many who got
on better than he did at school, and did not get so many
stripes, did not afterwards " cackle and lay eggs."
His religious training was strictly orthodox.  If any one
had a living faith in the medieval Church it was he;~ he
often remarked, both in jest and in earnest, what a powerfill
effect the Romish Church had had on him. This was specially the case when he went from Mansfeld to Magdeburg
in I497.
Magdeburg, with its forty thousand inhabitants, was at
that time the largest and most flourishing city in the north
of Germany, and, as the seat of a bishopric, was the brilliant
centre of the Catholic Church in the north.
The boy, then fourteen, went to a Franciscan school
The teachers had a reputation for skill, but were disposed
to live on the generosity of pious people.  In this school
he acquired what we should call the elements of gymnasial




EISENACH.                       5
instruction, and in the city he received the first ineffaceable
impressions of the majesty of the Catholic Church.  Here,
too, he witnessed a spectacle which affected him deeply;
he saw the son of a German prince, Wilhelm von Anhalt,
whom his father, in an attack of melancholy, had forced to
become a monk.  Luther saw him  " go about the streets
in the cowl of a barefooted friar, with a beggar's wallet,
begging for bread, and he had been scourged and made to
fast and watch until he was the picture of death-nothing
but skin and bone."  But this sight had not then the repelling effect upon him which it would afterwards have had;
on the contrary, it stimulated him; he vowed to himself
that he would follow in the steps of this Prince of Anhalt.
"I was naturally disposed to fast, to watch, to pray, to do
good works, that I might thereby expiate my sins." He
had already vowed to himself to make a pilgrimage to Rome,
and to be religious.*
His subsequent opposition to the medimeval Church, therefore, did not arise, as with the Humanists, from a tendency
to scepticism; he had been devoted to it with his whole
soul, aid only forsook it when lie had discovered the falseness
of the Church system.
He next went to Eisenach. Here he was dependent for
support on alms from strangers.  It is still the custom in
Thuringia for the poorer scholars to go about the streets at
certain hours and receive alms for singing hymns. Luther
himself relates how he had been such a partekenhlengst;t
had said "panem propter Deumrn " at the doors of strangers,
and sung songs for bread; how he and his comrades often
met with a rough repulse, and at many wealthy houses did
not even get the crumbs from the table.  But at the house
of Conrad Cotta, a prosperous citizen, it was very different;
there the mistress accorded him her sympathy.  She made
him generous presents, had him into the house, allowed him
tc come to her table and to have lessons with her children.
Luther afterwards'recurred with pleasure to this kindness,
and it was a proud moment for him when the son of the
Jiirgens, i. 221.
t I can find no equivalent for this word, probably coined on the
spur of the moment. Partekenz, crumbs, broken bread; hengst, a
stallion, is used among the common people as an expression for an
ardent lover, or for one who pursues an object passionately. Luther
meant therefore that he was so poor as to be eager for broken food.-TL




6       THE REFORMATION IN GERMAN~Y
widow Cotta afterwards came to him at Wittenberg, and he
was able to requite it. He never knew how to keep money
or property together, and his house was always open to
poor scholars if they were talented and eager to learn;
when any one remonstrated, he would remind him of his
own life at Eisenach.  It was here that he Grst made ac.
quaintance with family life, the mind of woman and parental
love, for he had never known them in their gentle and
genial aspect at home. He was treated like a favourite
adopted child; the classical languages were studied in the
spirit of the Humanists, and music, that choice gift of God,
which brightened so many hours for the poor timid student,
was also lovingly cultivated
He was not to be a miner or a slatecutter like his
father. It was his wish to make his son a lawyer or a
statesman.  With all his deep and heartfelt faith, he
despised theology and the Church system; monastic life
seemed to him the very path to destruction.
But it was on this very point that his son was, for the
first time, disobedient.
In 150o  he went to the university.  Among the-universities of that day Erfurt took the first rank as the seat of
Humanistic studies. Lawyers, doctors of medicine, and
theologians, all belonged to the new school. The'excellent
philological teaching, the schools for Greek and Latin,
and the new grammatical method, were of great service to
Luther; but there is no evidence that he had any inclination
to make these studies his profession. He regarded them as
means to an end. Besides, his vocation was marked out for
him; he was to be a lawyer. For a time he studied jurispru.
dence, but without any pleasure in it, and therefore without
success; the impulses of his soul strongly attracted him in
another direction. Moreover, his mind was at that time out
of tune; a profound melancholy had taken possession of him,
which left him neither time nor taste for this branch of study.
He felt dissatisfied with all his pursuits. It is a phase
which earnest minds often have to pass through, especially
about the time of transition between youth and manhood;
a certain melancholy overpowers even healthy minds, an
unknown something is wanting to them, an enigmatical.
longing impels them to restlessness, they seek satisfaction
everywhere and find it nowhere. Luther could not find it
either in heathen antiquity or in jurisprudence.




3ERFURT.                      7
The poverty and austerity of his youth, the stern parental
training had early driven him within himself. The eager
perusal, the diligent study during the night watches of
works which suited his religious tendencies, had interested
him in subjects which had no connection with jurisprudence.
He had, as it were, been led to the6logy by himself; he had
become more and more deeply engrossed in the study,
which, as he says, "seeks for the kernel in the nut, the
marrow in the bones." He had studied the fathers, particularly Augustine, then the Pauline Epistles and the writings
of the mystics-Tauler, Suso, and Eccard-whose views
were strangely in contrast with the prevailing Church
system, not however in a sceptical, but a mystical direction.
While pursuing these studies, the thought ripened within
him that it was not his vocation to follow his father's plans,
but to devote h.imself to theology, and that in the strictest
sense of the word. He would enter an order of monks,
like the Prince of Anhalt, and renounce the world.
There is an old and well-known tradition'  that he was
impelled to this resolution by the untimely death of a
friend by his side. We have no thoroughly trustworthy
authority for it; it is possible that this may have increased
his previous melancholy, and put an end to long hesitation.
But the resolution was certainly not formed all in one night;
in real life things do not happen in this dramatic way; it
undoubtedly was preceded by a long process of development, to which such an event may have given the last
-decisive impulse.t
It gave rise to severe conflicts with his father. He had
been accustomed to implicit obedience from his son; now,
for the first time, he declared that he neither could nor
would obey, for that his conscience, his salvation, his all
were at stake. A separation took place, which Luther could
never mention without emotion. The grey-headed old man
went away in despair, feeling that his son was lost to him.
Martin Luther joined the Austin Friars in I505,_ and
a Mathesius, quoted by Jiirgens, i. 521.
t It is certain that in the dedication to his father of his work on
monastic vmows, Luther refers to "a forced and extorted vow," taken
when hl was" encompassed with the fear and horror of death;" and
here and afterwards he states that he "never became a monk of his
own free will;" that " his vow was not worth a fig;" that it Was not
taken heartily and willingly."-JuRGENS.




8       THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
earnestly desired, if any one ever did, to be a true monk, and
"'with tonsure and cowl," by the service of God, to earn his
soul's salvation. There was at that time a proverb- current,
"Despair makes a monk," and in Luther's case it was strictly
true. He imposed all sorts of privations on himself, mortified the flesh, passed whole nights in prayer and fastinrg,
and practised all those self-mflicte& torments which the
Middle Ages were so clever in inventing, as if he would
take heaven by storm. The gloomy, intolerant monastic
rigidity, the want of sympathy for any other conception of
life, took firm hold of his character; he compares himself to
those who build up funeral piles, and we shall find moments
in his life when this- tendency, in its most exclusive form,
got the upper hand of him.
But in spite of this melancholy and mediaeval state of
mind, a great development-was taking place within him;
he scourged himself, but he no less zealously pursued his
studies. The monks bore him a grudge for this, for they
thought, " If this brother studies he Xwill.- ule us."  But he
was not to be deterred by this, and even during these early
years he impressed unprejudiced persons with an idea of
superiority. Those who knew him at that time agree in
assuring us that there was something,remarkable in his
appearance; all who came into close contact with him were
struck with, and many awed by him. Even so short a timne
afterwards as 1509, the learned Pollich of'Wittenberg, who
kept strictly to the ancient Church, said or him: "The monk
with the deep-set eyes and the strange fancies will lead
all the doctors astray, set up a new doctrine, and reform the
whole Romish Church."  In i5I8 Cajetan said of the pale,
emaciate recluse with the awe-stricken look, 1" I could hardly
took the man in the face, such a diabolical fire darted out
of his eyes."
The question that was agitated within him was a vital one
for the whole Church, and is so in every age, but it was of
special significance then. The feeling of universal human
sinfulness, the impossibility of redemption from the curse of
sin by the means which had hitherto been considered
sufficient, burdened him with an almost crushing weight.
He found no solution in dogmatic teaching as then set
forth, because, on the one hand, he felt repulsed by the Old
Testament God of revenge and wrath; and, on the other,
the doctrine of remission of sins by outward acts was




THEOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT. 
repugnant alike to his understanding and his heart. To
purchase absolution from the burden of sin by pharisaical
works, by fulfilling outward duties, by the punctual obser.
vance of ecclesiastical requirements, appeared to him to be
frivolous, and the angry God of the Old Testament terrified
him. The severe penances which he inflicted on body and
mind gave him no comfort, for the words were always present
with him: "The justice of God is the wrath of God."  "As
often,"' he says, "as I read this passage, I wished that
God had not revealed the Gospel; for who could love the
God who is thus angry with us, judges and condemns
us?"
The great minds of Christendom had always been exer.
cised by such conflicts; none more so than Augustine.
After a wild, erring, and agitated lifer, he had found
inward peace in a faith which he then formed into a
rigid dogma. And this Augustinian dogma of 3ustification by faith alone, and by the election of God, provided
that this faith be sincere and complete, powerfully affected
Luther. The very peculiar thinkers of the mystic school
of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries had said the
same thing; they looked for nothing from outward works,
but for everything from the inward sanctification of men,
and these were the views of all the more superior minds
of early times.'Luther never speaks more frequently ot
anything than of the change which took place within him
as the result of.this enlightenment; he is for ever thanking
his faithful patron, Staupitz, for helping him to find the right
path, and for ever recurring to the mental torments from
which these views delivered him.
"When," he says in one of the many passages in which
he refers to it, "I began to meditate more diligently on
the words just, and the justice of God, which terrified me;
and considered that the justice which avails with God is
manifested without the deeds of the law, I began to be
otherwise minded, and thought from that hour: If we are
to be justified by faith, if the justice of God is to save all
those that believe, such passages will, not alarm poor sinners
and terrified consciences, but rather comfort them." The
saying of the prophet Habbakuk, "The just shall live by
faith," came to him like redlemption. "From this I have
deduced that life must spring from faith. I connected the
word justice with the word just; namely, that man becomes




o10    THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
just before God by faith-the whole Scripture, heaven itself
was opened to me." ~
This led to something more than an ordinary scholastic
controversy; it led to a great conflict between the Pauline
and Augustinian doctrine and the prevailing one.  The difference was such that it of necessity made a wider schism
in the Christian world-as it then was, than it at first sight
appeared likely to do.  That which tormented Luther's conscience was a result of the worldliness and shallowness of
the Church polity, and this was the cause of numerous other
grievances, by no means religious only.  Herder once said:
"A  religion begins to fall into decay when its interpreters
have lost the key to it." The remark applies to the case
before us.  People had quite forgotten what the Church
should be, and once had been, as is plainly shown by the
fact that, among the higher grades of society, and even by
the Church itself, religion was looked upon as something
very good for the masses, but as a luxury with which those
above them could dispense; nobody cared for faith or moral
worth, and the worship of God was held to consist in the
strict performance of outward acts.
This was not the ancient view of the Church; even
Pelagius, who had not stated  it so broadly, had been
condemned.   The Church  was entirely -secularised, and
what was meant to look like religion was nothing but a
hypocritical show of outward conformity to law without
the least earnestness of mind, simply exterpna  performance
of duty without: any co-operation of the conscience and
heart.
* The authorised version has been purposely not followed in this
passage, but a more literal translation of Luther's words " gerecht,"
" gerechtigkeit,"-as the use of the words. " just," "'justify," and
"4righteousness," is confusing. The terms adopted by Dr. Young
("Life and Light of Men," p. T6x,,&c.), "right,''rightened," rightness or righteningness," would perhaps best convey the meaning to
English readers. -It is necessary to call attention to the sense in which
Luther uses the word "justice." He says further: " And now as much
as I had formerly hated that Word, the justice of God, so much did I
now love it and extol it. as the sweetest of all words to me.
Afterwards I read Augustine,' On the Spirit and the Letter,' where I
found that he too interpreted the justice of God in a similar way, as
that with which God endues us when He justifies us. And although
this was as yet but imperfectly expressed, it was nevertheless satisfactory that the justice of God was taught to be that by which we ar
justified," —TiR




INDULGENCES.                    X I
He who laid bare the essential falseness of the existing
Church system, and set himself with holy zeal to restore
to religion her forgotten sincerity and defunct faith, was
not merely opening a controversy, he was making a sbchism
in the world.  The "'good old times" of the fifteenth
century, as seen from this point of view, are the most odious
of all times, not even the notorious eighteenth century
excepted. The corruption of the Church makes one shudder.
She displays the wild fruits of a conception of religion without earnestness, faith, or shame. He who was the centre
of the ancient teaching of the Church, Christ the-Redeemer,
who had saved men from sin by his blood, and reconciled
the avenging God of the old covenant, was entirely lost
sight of, and a shameless abuse of holy things prevailed
everywhere.
in this state of things lay the great enigma which distracted the times; the faithful were filled with indignation,
and the rest sent empty away.  The issues of Luther's
spiritual conflicts in his narrow cell were of world-wide
import; the sort of Christianity and Church polity which
had hitherto prevailed was done away with.  Even' the
Romish Church, when restored at the Council of Trent,
quietly laid aside her old practices on these vital points,
and adopted a conception of them which, while it steered
clear of Lutheran one-sidedness, completely disowned the.
attitude she had maintained from  the beginning of the
fifteenth century.
The doctrine of indulgences, according to which men
could be absolved from any sin by the payment of money,
thie most outward of all outward acts, the mind having
no part in the transaction, was the most glaring instance
of the abuses which had- arisen in the Church; and when
Luther- afterwards opposed it, it was not only because, like.many others, he was offended by the shameless extortions
and characters of the dealers in indulgences, but because the
practice had a close connection with the question on which
he had passed through the severest struggles.  Others
were vexed that Tetzel should extort so much money from
Germany, or thought it a disgrace that Rome chose to levy
such heavy contributions on the stupid Germans, while she
did not dare to carry it so far in other countries. But this
was but a superficial view, and Luther's " Theses" are something very different from an angry protest against a growing




2      THE LEFORMATION IN GERMANY.
abuse; they bear the stamp of his whole religious systerm,
based upon the Pauline doctrine of justification by faith, and
the Augustinian doctrine of the election of grace; they set
forth an entirely different view of life and of the relation of
men to God and the Church, and had a far deeper significance than a mere attack upon the traffic in indulgences as
an abuse.
Luther's great mental development was completed in
the monastery at Erfurt. If, now that he was at peace with
himself, he should go forth into the world and be placed
in a position favourable for the exercise of his talents, a
tremendous commotion might be looked for. They could
not be developed in a monastery; they could but be stunted 
the power of his words which arose from the depth of his
convictions, the force of his teachings and his writings,
his mysterious influence upon men, could only be developed
in the world without.' Just at this time an opportunity was
afforded him of testing his powers; he was called to the
newly founded university of Wittenberg, in order that he
might, for a time, devote himself entirely to academic
teahing and preaching beyond the walls of the monastery.




CHAPTER ILf
i508-1520.
Call to Wittenberg, 150o8.-Journey to Rome, 15Io.-The Indulgence
of II57.-Attempts of Leo X. (elected Pope 1513) at Mediation.
-Cajetan at the Diet of Augsburg, October, i.I8.-Miltitz's Discussion with Luther at Altenburg, 1519.-Disputation at Leipzig,
27th June to I3th July, iS5g.-The Turning-point with Luther.
THE  university of Wittenberg, the creation of Frederic
T the Wise, had been founded in I502, entirely in the
modern Humanistic spirit; indeed, to found a university at
that period, was to create an organ for the modern tendencies. Luther was called.to it through the mediation of
Staupitz, and arrived there at the close of I508. Up to
this time he had shown a tendency to gloomy reserve,
which was not natural to his character. At Erfurt he had
been entirely the monk who renounces the world, and knows
no other calling than the solitary and earnest conflict with
God and his conscience.  This was obvious from  his
appearance, and yet no one was better adapted to influence
the world and men. His new position introduced him into
an arena for which he possessed incomparable gifts. The
fire of his character, his talents for writing and speaking,
now first came into play. He was not then at all conscious
of his powers. For the first few years it was agony to him
to ascend the pulpit stairs; when at length he yielded to
the persuasions of his friend Staupitz, he said, "6 You will
kill me; I shall not go on with it for a quarter of a year;"
and even in I5Ig he declared that nothing sustained him
in the office of a preacher but obedience to another will,
the will of God.
It was with great difficulty that he overcame the shyness
which he took from the parental home into the monastery,
and thence into the world, but he distinguished himself from




14      THE REFORMATION IN GERHMAANY,
the very first. Literary celebrities did not grow up then so
fast as they do now, but Luther soon became known in
his own circle. His preaching made a very unusual impres.
sion, not only on account of his new doctrines, but because
his teaching came from the very depths of his soul, and
was the outcome of a deeply agitated spirit. It was very
different from the customary drawl of empty and hackneyed
phrases, or the reading of old manuscripts by other people;
for his preaching came from a fiery soul, every word was
spoken in holy earnest, and therefore produced an immense
effect upon young and old.  Whenever he preached the
church was crammed full up to the pulpit, and he was
listened to with breathless attention. This period was also
of importance to himself; he shook off much of the monastic
reserve which clung to him, his monkish acerbity decreased,
he was no longer a monk in the sense in which he had been
one.
The young teacher and preacher was not only honoured,
he was almost spoiled by the Elector and the public. The
convictions at which he had arrived at Erfurt became
clearer and more mature. He now took a wider and more
independent view of the central point of his theological
ideas, the doctrine of justification by faith, and specially
devoted himself to the study of that part of the New Testament which most fully unfolds the subject, the Epistle to the
Romans. He was now ready with his system; it was not
in contradiction to that of the Church-indeed, he was supported by her great authorities, Paul and Augustine; it
was very far from being heretical, yet it was opposed to
the Pelagian Church system, though the opposition as such
had not yet appeared.
In 1510 Luther set out for Rome, either- because he was
charged with some errand for his order,* or to fulfil the
vow made while yet a'boy, that he might "find peace and
comfort for his conscience; " perhaps for both reasons. The
journey was a marked event in his life; the monk who had
liitherto lived in a' small territory now for the. first time
wvent forth into fhe wide world. He passed through a great part
of his own country, made acquaintance with South Germany,
Bavaria, Austria, and Italy, and with this fulfilment of his
* Jiirgens observes that Luther nowhere mentions any commission
from his order,




iXTHER AT ROME.                   15
boyish longings, a pilgrimage to Rome, closes tle first
period of his life. It is not correct to say that this pilgrimage turned him into the bitterest enemy of the'Papacy,
after being its most devoted adherent. For years after
this we find him strictly retaining the same relation to the
supreme authority in Christendom which had always been
characteristic of him; and even in 1517 and I5I8 he expressly makes a distinction between the Papacy in its
existing form and its original vocation as head of the
Catholic Chfurch.  He cannot have been in I5Io in the
path which he had scarcely entered in 1517. We by no
means find that the sight of Rome produced so rapid a
change in him;' his veneration for the majesty of the
Church was too great.  We learn from himself that, true
pilgrim as he was, at the first sight of the eternal city he
threw himself upon the ground, and exclaimed, with hands
uplifted to heaven: " I greet thee, holy Rome, thrice holy,
from the blood of the martyrs which has been shed in thee."
And he adds: " I did not then know that I was to be the
hermit about whom there was a prophecy that he would rise
up against the Church."  Keen observer as he was, he
soon saw more than was good for his veneration, and then,
of course, made the observations on the actual state of
things at Rome which he afterwards wove into the fearful
accusations contained in his writings against Rome, especially in his work addressed to the German nobles; but they
did not then change his fundamental views, nor estrange
him from the ancient Church, for it was not until long afterwards that he was convinced that she was incapable of
reform. One thing is very evident, the aversion of the good
German to the Italians. Italian cunning and knavery, the
abundance of fine but meaningless words in the language,
the external softness and polish, which barely conceal the
hollowness within-all this produced an irritating effect on
the nerves of the Thuringian peasant.  In his bitterest
writings tie vices of the Italians play a conspicuous part.
Until the beginning of I517 he lived at Wittenberg,
teaching and preaching. Now and then he was sent on
a journey. With regard to the main point, he continued to
cultivate his mind and to complete his theological studies.
Between I509 and I5I7 the new Indulgence was proclaimed.
There was nothing so very repulsive in the doctrine




I 6:sTHE REFORMATION IN GERMAN.
and practice of indulgence in the ancient Church. Moral
repentance was held to be the main thing; but the dangerous addition had been made that outward signs of
repentance were pleasing to God.  Afterwards release
might be obtained from the performance of such signsfasting, scourging, and going on pilgrimages-by the payment of money, which, however, was not meant to absolve
from sin, but was considered- as a sign of the inward change
of mind. But this old doctrine of the Church had been
greatly altered, and in the fourteenth century, during the
IBabylonish exile, financial considerations had been allowed
to prevail over moral ones. At Avignon the popes in some
measure consoled themselves for the pain of exile by
inventing all possible means of enriching the pontifical
chair at Avignon, not at Rome. John XXII. came from
Cahors, which in the Middle Ages was held to be the seat
of the cleverest financiers. It was there that the practice
arose which made such a disturbance in Germany that the
unconditional abolition of it was demanded by the Germans
at Constance and Basle. "It is most abominable," said the
Germans at Constance who burnt Huss; " the last popes
have put a price upon sins. like shopkeepers' wares, and
have sold remission of silfs by means of indulgences for
jingling coin 1" It ended, however, in a proposition for
restrictions upon indulgences; but such a system cannot
be restricted, it must be'abolished. The abuse continued.
An urgent appeal was again made to Pope Martin V., who
was elected at Constance, to put an end to it: this he
agreed to do, but did nothing. Indeed, a sacrilege was
practised which would have deserved that name before
any religious systems existed: general indulgences were proclaimed and general Church taxes imposed; a pardon was
granted to merchants, bankers, and bill-brokers, for farming
the tax, and they undertook the traffic in pardon for
sins for whole countries. It seemed as if all the warnings
of the councils were forgotten, and everything that had
given.most offence was carried to the greatest extent.
Thus a tariff of taxes was formed for all manner of sins,
like the taxze  cance//arice ecclesi Ronomalne, which appeared
at Herzogenbusch in 1517. In Tetzel's instructions sodomy
was rated at twelve ducats, sacrilege at nine, murder at
seven, witchcraft at six, murder of parents or brothers
and sisters, at four. From the time of Innocent VIII. ytou




PARDON TICKETS.                   17
could buy immunity from  purgatory, and in 1507 and
1512 Julius II. extended indulgence even to heresy.
Between I5oo and I517 five extraordinary indulgences
were proclaimed, and that at a time when men's minds
were beginning to be stirred up against them.  It was
quite incomprehensible. The Church wvas acting on the
shameless principle of the chamberlain of Innocent VIII.,
who said, "God willeth not the death of a sinner, but
that he should pay and live."
We still have originals of the pardon tickets of that
time.* There is one of I5 17 for example, on which there
is a figure of a Dominican monk, with a cross, crown of
thorns, and a burning heart.'In the upper corners is a
nailed hand of the Saviour, and in the lower ones a nailed
foot. On the. front are the words, " Pope Leo X. Prayer.
This is the length and breadth of the wounds of Christ in
his holy side. As often as any one kisses it he has a seven
years' indulgence."   On the reverse side: "The cross
measured forty times makes the height of Christ in his
humanity. He who kisses it is preserved for seven days
from sudden death, falling sickness, and apoplexy."
The dealers in indulgences put up such notices as this:
"The red indulgence cross with the Pope's arms suspended
on it has the same virtue as the cross of Christ."  "T6 he
pardon makes those who accept it cleaner than baptism,
purer even than Adam in a state of innocence in Paradise."
"The dealer in pardons saves more people than Peter," &c.
Thus lite abuse went on, until it became madness, and
it had been practised five times on the same generation.
Some were disgusted  that the sacred mysteries of the
Church should be thus abused, others appealed to the
former decrees of the Church, which had condemned the
scandal. That Germany specially should be laid under contribution on account of her political disruption was felt to
be degrading. Still the money that was required, nominally
for a wvar with the Turks, flowed in streams to Rome; the
bishops complained that " hundredweights of German coin
flew light as feathers over the Alps, and that no bearer of
the heaviest burdens, not even Atlas himself, could drag
such heaps of money."  So said the spiritual princes whose
material interests suffered fromn it; and it- was no wonder
Jiirgens.




18      THE REFOtRMATION IN GERMANY.
that the temporal princes fully sympathized in their displeasure at seeing money going out of the country on so
large a scale for no useful purpose: whatever.
Luther was not influienced by these external reasons. A
faith had grown up within him which was utterly at variance
with the principle of this outrage. The grounds on which
others opposed it lay on the surface; his resistance to
it came from the depths of his soul, and therefore he
brought the struggle to an issue on other grounds, and
raised the fundamental question, "Which then is the
doctrine of the Church, that preached by Luther or by
Tetzel?"
In 1517, John Tetzel, with his assistant, Bartholomew
Rauch, appeared in Central Germany.as a dealer in
indulgences- under the protection of the Elector Albert
of Mayencq. He had been preceded by annoying mountebank-like notices.  He found moderate support in the
Albertine part of Saxony' under Duke George, but in the
Electorate -under Frederic the Wise, he found no favour.
He set up his shop at Leipzig and in the surrounding
places, and thus came into Luther's immediate neighbourhood. When he arrived at Jiiterbogk, near Wittenberg,
Luther was seized with indignation.  He had already
admonished some of the bishops to. do their duty by taking
measures against this abuse, he had publicly thundered
against it in the pulpit, when on October 3ist he affixed his
ninety-five Theses against Tetzel's doctrine of indulgences
to the church door at Wittenberg. In these he unfolded
his views of true repentance, as they had become clear
to him since his monastic life at Erfurt; they did not
express the least enmity to the Pope, but were so much
the more bitter against " the Indulgence preacher's shameless and wanton words," which he strictly distinguished
from the doctrine of the Church. The Theses made a deep
impression in Germany; the state of the public mind wtas
such that an insignificant cause might have led to great
results, and the cause was not insignificant. Many controversial writings appeared: some sided with Luther; there
were those who defended Tetzel; few had courage to defend
the practice as it existed, but Luther's sharply defined doctrine of the uselessness of good works gave rise to much discussion. Wimpina at Frankfort on the Oder, Hogstraten
at Cologne, Eck at Ingolstadt, exclaimed against the




POPE LEO0. X.                  i9
heretic; for others, the matter was but one more of those
intestine paper wars, of which there were so many instances
among learned theologians in the Middle Ages. The only
difference was, that this time the question at issue was a
vital and fundamental one for religion itself, not a mere
scholastic difference, and'the! public mind was still deeply
agitated by the contest between the Humanists and the
Dominicans, out of which during the previous year the
EJisziful  Vioryum  Obsczirorum  had arisen.  Meanwhile
the first attack came from Rome. Silvester Prierias, the
fanatical Dominican who had just.prevented the Reuchlin
trial from being decided in favour of the accused, issued
a publication against Luther's heretical doctrine of repentance.  It was not of much importance; Eck's was much
cleverer, but the significant fact was that a voice should
proceed from Rome before it was perhaps wise for the Church
to take part in the discussion.
An accusation was brought against Luther at Rome, and
Prierias was called as a theological authority in the court
in which it was tried. Hot-headed people thought that
sentence of excommunication must follow, but this Leo X
declined to pronounce. He was a great Maecenas to artists
and learned men, and was too much of a Medici not
to be entirely indifferent to theological quarrels.
It was. one of the tragical links in the chain of the
history of the Church at this momentous period that a
man was at her head who was personally entirely a stranger
to the great questions which agitated her. In Reuchlin's
case his idea had been not to injure a learned man, and at
first he had. much the same idea about Luther, not
from clemency, but indifference.  He looked down upon
the squabbles of the people with the princely contempt of
the Medicis, never suspecting that they might give rise to
a conflagration which might reach his triple crown. His
desire was to see them peaceably settled.
A Diet was convened at Augsburg. The Papal Legate
had a number of demands to make at it which concerned the
German treasury, and they would perhaps be less readily
granted if Rome took severe measures against a German
monk, who was in favour with an influential prince like
Frederic the Wise, who sided with those who were against
the levy of Church taxes. The Cardinal Legate Cajetan was
therefore commissioned to get the question settled with




20      THE REFORMLATION IN GERMANY,
as little disturbance as possible. He was. to send for the
monk, talk it over with him, and try to persuade him not
to make any further disturbance, and thus put an end to
this cont'oversyi
In answer to a justification of. himself which Luther had
sent to Rome in May, I518, couched in the most modest
tone, he had received an, invitation to come there. He
says: "When I was looking for: a blessing, a storm broke
over me."  On all sides people were' interesting. them.
selves about Luther, and the result was that the invitation
was changed into a sumnlmons to defend. himself before the
Cardinal Legate at Augsburg.
The Legate does not seem to have carried out the papal
commission very' strictly;.he certainly did not act the
part of a kindly diplomatist, but that of a proud spiritual
prince,'for whom it.was a great condescension to enter
into discussion with an insignificant monk at all. Besides this, he, as a rigid Thomist, could not abstain
from  opposing the nominalistic monk. At first Luther
was constrained and embarrassed, but'as the discussion
gradually took the form of a theological disputation, he
grew warm and bold, and Cajetan declared that he felt quite
awe-stricken inl his presence.  In answer to the decrees
of the Church and the-ternets of the Dominicans, Luther
brought forward Paul and Augustine, who indeed were
strangers to the Church of that day; he would hear nothing
of recantation, and so they parted, each feeling that he was
himself in.the right, and that the other had not so conducted himself as to promote peace.
Thus failed the first attempt to -settle the business by
diplomacyr  This was in October, i5I8. Luther fled from
Augsburg by night, fearing, and not without reason, for his
personal safety; he rode hastily through by-ways back to
Wittenberg, and the controversy continued. Leo was still
of opinion that the time'was not come for extreme measures,
and a second attempt-was therefore made.
Carl von Miltitz, a native of Saxony, an adroit man of
the world, was now selected to settle. the difficulty. It
was the Pope's custom  on -New Year's Day to, present
one of the most eminent princes with a consecrated golden
rose. This year'the Elector Freaeric of Saxony was to
have it, the man who had founded the modern Humanist
university of Wittenberg, and undoubtedly favoured Luther.




MILTITgZ                   21
The Nuncio, Miltitz, was to be the bearer of it, and to take
the opportunity of seeing Luther, as iff accidentally, and to
repeat the attempt made by Cajetan.
Miltitz was no theologian, nor a man of any system or
school,, and he was therefore specially adapted for his
mission. He was clever, his manners were polished and
agreeable, and, when desirable, he could display a winning
cordiality.
After the failure of the conference at Augsburg, Luther
had issued the usual apAe.dlalio a  aja  male informato ad
a-ppam melims informandzm, and as this produced no effect,
he entered a second appeal, this time from the Pope to
a General Council. It was unusual for a simple monk to
make so determined an appeal to the highest court, but it.
was not prohibited or illegal.
Miltitz arrived at the beginning of January, I5V99 and
on the 3rd he had a conversation with Luther. He had
entered upon his task with great skill. On his way he had
been rather communicative, had complained in large companies of the scandal occasioned to the Church by mischievous individuals, asserted that Tetzel's proceedings
were not approved at Rome, and was so hard upon him
that no one doubted his sincerity. He opened his heart to
Luther in the most unreserved manner, said that he was
astonished to find the celebrated doctor a young and
vigorous man, instead of an old theologian, and that he
would not undertake to conduct him to Rome with twentyfive thousand armed men, for he had observed everywhere
that for every adherent of the Pope, Luther had three:
he himself was entirely of Luther's mind. Having thus, as
he thought, gained his opponent's confidence, he proceeded
with his plan. He told Luther that it did not become
him, an isolated monk, to carry on a contest like this with
the Pope single-handed. He had occasioned his Holiness
much uneasiness, and it was his duty to make amends.
Luther was still within the bounds of the mediaeval Church,
and held a monk's opinions of the PQpe's authority.
This mode of approaching him was therefore safer than
the imperious style adopted by Cajetan. Miltitz knew how
to attack Luther on the ground on which he was still a
monk-respect for the authority of the Church.
A formal agreement was entered into; and it is significant
that the Romih Church already, to a certain extent, tipu



22      THE REFORMATION IN GERMAN-Y.
lates with the simple Augustine monk as one power with
another.
As Luther himself informed his' protector the Elector,
there were two clauses in the agreement.
I. "Both parties are forlidden to preach or write on
the sulbject, or to take any further action upon it.
2. " Miltitz is to communicate the exact position of affairs
to the Pope, and the Pope will commission a learned
bishop to investigate the controverted questions."
" And then," Luthler adds, "if, I am convicted of error,
I shall willingly retract it, and not weaken the power and
glory of the holy Roman Church." He also consented to
write a second letter to the Pope, to apologize for having
been so sharp and hasty, and to say that he had no desire
to injure the Church as such.
He went, therefore, to the verge of retracting, but on
conditions.  His silence was to be dependent on the
silence of others, and he declared that he would retract
when refuited - not before,  This attitude was not a
mediaeval Catholic one. Huss also had said at Constance,
" Let them refute me," and instead of this he had been condemned. This proposition was the germ of Protestantism,
From the Church's stand-point, no such opposition, no
such conditional subjection as this could be tolerated.
When authority spoke the individual must' give way.
Luther had already taken one step beyond what may be
called the boundary line of the mediaeval Church.
One thing, however,-was attained: there was;an armistice;
there was a cessation of the scandalous disputing and
wrangling which so disturbed the Pope; a curb was put on
the bitterness of party spirit. But the over-zealous friends
of the Church were very soon again to disturb her peace.
The armistice was interrupted by a zealot of the.. Church
herself.
In March, I519, Eck proclaimed a great discussion at
Leipzig.  Some of the Theses were aimed at Carlstadt,
Who was invited as opponent. But when they were more
narrowly examined, it was evident that they were really
intended for Luther, not Carlstadt. This wasc  a virtual
though not a formal breach of the armistice.  Luther
declared at once that he was released from his promise.
"This wrong-headed fellow," he writes, "is fuming against
me and my writings; but he challenges some one elsm




DISPUTATION At LEIPZIG,                 23
as his adversary and attacks hirr;"-a"but this discussion will turn out badly for the Roman claims and
usages, and these are the staff upon which the Church is
leaning."
The celebrated discussion at Leipzig began on June 27th,
x 5 I9.* Eck, Luther, Melancthon, and Carlstadt appeared
with their friends. The discussion was opened with all the
pomp with which these disputations used to be conducted.
There seemed to be a feeling that it was not an ordinary
scholastic tournament, but that questions of world-wide
importance were at issue.  The  chief combatants were
each in his way excellent disputants.  Eck was known as
a remarkably skilful debater, and was at least a match for
Luther in the discussion, while in knowledge of philosophy
and theology, ecclesiastical history and law, he was decidedly
his superior. Luther had as yet scarcely approached the
latter subjects, and now first learnt their importance. His
strength wa:s of another sort, in which Eck was, not equal to
him.
Beyond the recent centuries Eck's knowledge was threadbare, and where Luther was quite at home he was almost a
stranger.  Luther was better acquainted with Augustine
than with any one else; he had also diligently read the other
fathers, both of the East and West, and the earnest study
of fifteen years had made him perfectly familiar with the
passages in the Bible relating to the subject.
After Eck and Carlstadt, had disputed for the first week
on free will, the contest began with Luther. For two days
they disputed on justification and good  works without
making any approach to agreement.  On these subjects
Pelagian and Augustinian Christendom  were in absolute
opposition; there vwag a world-wide differenlce which it was
impossible to reconcile.  Eck then shifted the question to
the subject of the papal authority.
Luther maintained that proof was wanting that the power
of the Pope of Rome was as old as the Church of Christ.
This is no longer a question for us, but'it was one in those
* The reports of it are to be found in L/scher.  First a report
by Melancthon, then Eck's letter to Hogstl-aten, Luther's own report,
and several others; then the protocol of tle (liscussion between Eck
and Luther, in which that held from JIuly 4th to 8th on the Pope's
supremacy is of interest. All the heresics are summed up by Eek in
his letter to Hogstraten.,




24      THE REFORMATION IN GEPMANY.
days when people believed in a large number of pious
frauds. Luther was of opinion that the papal authority
was not more than four centuries old, but Eck refuted
him at once, and gained an advantage; but when he added
that the Papacy dated from  the beginning of the Latin
Church, and that all who were not within the Church were
damned, he exposed himself to attack, and -Luther at once
availed himself of it. He asked where in the Scriptures,
where in the writings of the early fathers, was there any
mention of the Papacy, and whether Eck believed that the
whole Greek Church, and her great fathers, such as Gregory
of Nazienzen and Basil the Great, were damned?
This embarrassed Eck, but he soon recovered himself,
and referred to the councils. At Constance, for example,
the papal supremacy had been acknowledged: did Luther
no longer adhere to the authority of the councils? The
council had condemned Huss and his theses: did he hold
that the judgment was just or not?  This was a quzestio
caipiosa.  The Hussites were in bad odour in Saxony.
Luther considered for a moment, and then said he thought
that the council had condemned propositions of Huss that
were entirely Christian and evangelical. This occasioned
great excitement, and Eck answered: " Then, worthy father,
you are to me a heathen man and a publican."
Luther had now overstepped the boundaries of the Churcb.
When at Erfurt, some work by Huss had fallen into his
hands, and, as he read, he discovered with astonishment
that on many points he agreed with the burnt heretic.
Seized with anguish, he closed the book, and rushed from
it with "a wounded heart," for he thought that at the mere
suspicion that the "cruelly condemned man" was right,
" the walls must become black and the sun veil his light;;"
yet now he had courageously confessed him and rejected
the recent authoritative decision of the Church. He had
been driven to take one step after another; but one
authority remained for him, that of the Scriptures,the New
Testament, and that he never rejected. Thus this discussion led to his defection from the Church, whose highest
authorities he no longer acknowledged as binding. The
circumstance was of great importance to him, for it led to
his seeing clearly how fundamentally he was at variance
with the Church when he sincerely thought that he was
s'ictly within her fold.




THE TURNING-POINT.                25
The two opposite modes of thought, the utter irreconcilability of which was first developed at Leipzig, had
nothing in common with the party conflicts of the Middle
Ages.  The very principle of authority was attacked,
the foundations of. the rock of Peter were shaken, and
its historical title distinctly denied. This had never been
thus declared before the whole nation.  From this time
any attempt to hush the matter up was quite vain. Luther
did lot retreat even when he expected to share the fate of'Huss.  But circumstances were not the same as at the
time of the Council of Constance.
The favour of the nation increased in proportion as
Luther's defection was decisive. - He had never been weaker
than when-negotiating with Miltitz-never stronger than after
the discussion. All the Humanist party, then the dominant
party among the learned men of the day, and among them
the best spirits of the nation, were on his side. The stormy
and passionate youth, who had hitherto regarded the
contest with quiet indifference or contempt, now began tc
take an interest in it, and to show that they did so. Ulick
von Hutten, their boldest mouthpiece, and politically and
nationally Luther's alter ego, openly joined his cause,,
Hutten was the most elegant, most polished nmember of
the younger school of Humanists, who reverenced Reuchlin
and Erasmus as their models.  In July, I517, he had
reached the highest summit of ambition-he had been
crowned by the Emperor as the first German poet. He
was an impersonation of the Humanistic spirit; yet a
feeling began increasingly to creep over him that there was
something unreal in his culture, that he was not true to
himself while he spoke and wrote in a foreign tongue, It
was entirely in a Humanistic spirit that he said to a monk,
on hearing of the doings at Wittenberg, " Devour one
another that you may be devoured by yourselves," and
then wrote to Hermann von Neuenaar: "My special desire
is that our enemies may live as much as possible in discord,
and persist in. destroying one another. Perish all those who
hinder the dawning culture, th at the glorious virtues they
have so often trodden under foot may at length take root."'
But he learnt to think otherwise. On closer observation
he found that it was something more than an ordinary
* Strauss, Hutten.




%26    aTHE REFORA:TION IN GERMANY.
monkish quarrel, and he, had above all learnt from Luther
the wonderful power, of the German tongue; he had seen
how this man electrified the nation with the force of his
words, and he turned. completely round.  He wrote to
Luther: "I will renounce all my poetic fame, 0 monk,
and follow thee like a shield-bearer." He gave up his
elegant Latin, wrote German both in prose and rhyme,
and became a political Luther.
Before this Philip Melancthon had, joined Luther, and
waS invaluable as a complement to him. In his case the
Humanist preponderated over the theologian  Melancthon
was of incomparable service in the exposition and translation of the Scriptures, because, with all his immense learning,
he put no preconceived theological views into the text.
Then he was. more cultivated than the Thuringian
peasant's son, and his manners were more polished.
The discussion was also a turning-point for Luther in
his studies. It vexed him that he had not been able to
say anything against the ecclesiastical laws to which Eck
appealed. He now studied the history of the Church, more
particularly in recent times. He -mad adcquaintance, during
the excitement in which the discussion had. left him, with
the stormy councils of the fifteenth century; he saw how
nearly the nation had seen her hopes of reform realised, and
how shamefully she had been deceived. It made a.deeper
impression upon him than it could ever have done before,
but still it cost him some pain to tear himself entirely away
from  the ancient Church.  He still drew a distinction
between the Curia and the Ecclesia Romana, which were
then really scarcely distinguishable at all.
As he pursued his studies he became more and more
opposed to particular dogmas which he had not before
specially examined.  At Leipzig he had disputed the
infallibility of the Pope and the councils; he now disputed
the right of the Pope to proclaim laws, to canonise, and
to-withhold the cup; he protested against the doctrine of
purgatory, and the number of the sacraments, though he
had not yet attained to the doctrine of two only.  -It
has been proved that Huss, at Conltance, did not maintain
doctrines much more heretical. His doctrines had often been
confounded with those of his disciples, and a good deal
ascribed to Huss that did not belong to himn; we know now
that in principle his views did not go much further than




THE PAPAL BULL.                 27
the point at which Luther had now arrived. Luther was
continually astonished anew at this unconscious agreement.  In  152o  he wrote- to Spalatin: "We are all
Hussites without knowing it.  Paul and Augustine are
IHussites. I am so amazed I know not what to thinks."
In June, I520 Luther's address " To the Christian Nobles
of the German Nation" came out. Although but a few
pages, it was the work of an agitator, and -written in Luther's
most masterly style.  Its main proposition is that the
Romish Curia must be resisted, and the walls which it had
built around Germany thrown down, and that it-would
especially become the German nobility to take the lead in
the conflict. The address produced great excitement; it
was useless now to think of silencing the bold monk; but
whether it was wise for the Pope to have recourse to the
last resort, and excommunicate him, at,the risk of its
taking-no effect, was the great question.
Eck, Luther's literary opponent, was guilty of the indiscretion of bringing to Germany the bull which the Pope
had reluctantly issued.'It was received with opensrepugnance, or at least with indifference; some governments were
reluctant to proclaim it, others declared that in the existing
state Of things it was not necessary to obey it: they appealed to theirown judgments against the Church in true
modem fashion.
The  Elector Frederic the Wise openly  disclaimed
obedience to the bull; the university of Wittenberg
decidedly took the part of Luther and Carlstadt, which
encouraged Luther to venture on the unheard-of step:
which he took on the ioth December, 1520. He was not
the man to go to extremes for the purpose of arousing the
passions of the populace; he had no wish to have "Mr.
Omnes, who has no sense," for his master, but he did not
shrink from any step which might at a critical moment lay.
bare the weakness of the adversary. He resolved to take
the monstrous step of publicly burning the papal bull in
presence of the professors, the students, and the citizens of
Wittenberg.
On December x otli the solemn procession, to which Luther
had invited the people by a notice on the church door, went
through the Elstergate; and the people looked on while the
Rake,




2-8     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
bull, whose predecessors had dethroned many a proud
emperor, and condemned many a good reformer to the
flames, was consumed in the fire, amidst the blank amazement of the Romanists.and -the rejoicings of Luther's
adherents.
Luther had shown that, without.ncurring danger to himn
self, he could hold up the Pope's last missile to derision.
Rome had exhausted her weapons; admonition, warning,
advice, ban,-not one of them had produced the least
effect. The greater the dismay at Rome, the, greater had
been the monk's audacity, the more numerous his fol
lowers. But one reseource was lef —the temporal- power.




CHAPTE   It!,
The Last Days of Maximilian I., January, 1519. —Election of a new
Emperor.-Francis I. of France and Charles V. of Spain.-Political Position of the Emperor Charles V.-The Election in June.The Election Bond, 3rd July, 5i9o.
LAST DAYS OF MAXIMILIAN I., JANUARY, 1519.
ROTH  parties, Luther and the Pope, had gone to ex_J  tremes.  It was now in the hands of the temporal
power of the empire to decide between them. The Church
had to look about her for support, and she looked, in the
first place, to the arm of the Emperor. The King of Rome
had not only to keep political order, he was, also the
guardian of the Church. It was both his right and duty to
uphold her authority, to administer her laws, to carry out
her decrees. It was therefore not an unusual demand, but,
in the existing state of things, quite a natural one. In
1415 the Emperor had carried out the decree of the Church
in a similar case.  That the imperial power had not interfered before was only caused by the interregnum  then
existing. From  January to June, x519, the throne was
unoccupied, and after June it was only nominally occupied,
for the new Emperor was not yet present in the empire.
The position of affairs had not been so advantageous
during the latter part of Maximilian's reign as had been
hoped at the beginning. He was but little beloved, and
that little because his happy temper and engaging disposition prevented actual disaffection and restrained open
ill-will.  But a great change  was observable.  Many
things had conduced to it. It was not only that he had
injured the domestic interests of this or that dynasty; there
were real grounds for discontent. The reforms of 1495, to
which he had reluctantly given his consent, were not only




30      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
not tarried out, he had even allowed those already established to fall into disuse.
The Aulic Council, which was to be constituted without
him, and to oppose him, had always been repugnant to him 
he had also only grudgingly tolerated the Imperial Chamber
for a time; and both had at length been suffered to fall
into disuse. Nothing remained but the Internal Treaty of
Peace,* the administration of which mostly depended on
himself, and the division of the empire into districts,
which served him as a counterpoise to the sovereignty of
the princes.  This was all that remained of the great
project of reform  which was looked for throughout the
empire, especially among the upper circles, at the beginning
of his reign; and some of the states which had promoted
the changes in 1495 now reproached him with it.
Another and equally well-founded reproach was that he
had made the empire a means of aggrandising his hereAditary power as a Hapsburg; had merely made a tool of
it to carry out his purely Austrian plans in Italy and elsewhere. To enforce his claims upon Bohemia and Hungary,
thereby to complete the Hapsburg dominions, to become
master of Milan in Italy by the aid of the ancient imperial
rights, to form  the marriage treaty with Spain;-these
were the great aims of his policy, and they had nothing
whatever to do with the interests of the empire, as they
were conceived of by the states and the nation.
His position, therefore, although he knew how to maintain
it with skill and prudence, became more and. more isolated,
and he saw an opposition growing up among the most distinguished princes of the empire who had formerly sided
withhinm.
His relations with the Church were by no means satisfactory in the eyes of the Curia. He knew very well that
the empire could not exist unless the Church, in a general
sense, ruled Western Europe; but he did not at all approve
of the administration of her policy, and by no means
submitted unconditionally to the power of the Curia.
The Popes had been so often opposed to him that he did
not cherish any good-will towards them; nor did he over.
look the frightful abuses which were eating into the spiritual
0 Landfriede. The decree of the Diet of Worms,'1495, by which all
independent warfare amongst members of the empire was forbidden,
lld the 4 "law of the fist" abolished under pain of ban. &c.-Ta.




1iAXIMILIAN  I.                31
and temporal life of Christendom. It was, indeed, at his
instigation that the accusation by the German nation against
the Curia had been pqttforth; and, with the approbation of
the states, he had proclaimed the edict from Innsbruck
Cc against the unspeakable greed of some ecclesiastics, who
know  no bounds in the acquisition of Church property
and benefices."  His audacious idea of himself seizing the
reins of ecclesiastical power, as Charlemagne and Henry III.
had done, indicates his relations with Rome.
When the contest at Wittenberg began, he at first looked
on with malicious pleasure.  He had just then fallen out
with Rome on political grounds, and it was a satisfaction to
him that she should have the millstone of a monastic controversy hung about her neck. " Let the Wittenberg monk,"
he said to Frederic the Wise, "be taken good care of; we
may want him some day.':
But during the latter part of his reign all this was
changed; his domestic policy induced him  to seek an
understanding with Rome. Although he did not anticipate
his approaching death, he was anxious to secure to his
family the succession to the empire. His son Philip had
met with an early and tragic death, but he had left a son
(Charles V.) who would certainly inherit Spain, and for
whom Maximilian wrished to secure the German crown. If
he could succeed, the imperial glory and greatness would
be restored in all its mediaeval splendour.
The foreign powers, especially France, were against it,
and in his isolation in Germany the Emperor had no other
ally but Rome to aid him in his projects. Things were in
this position when Cajetan was sent to the Diet at Augsburg.
He brought large demands for men and money against the
Turks, which the Emperor was willing to grant if the
Church would support him. But the scheme entirely miscarried. It was not only that public opinion, led by Ulrich
von Hutten, declared loudly against the Papal Legate; the
Diet refused his demands, and refused them on the ground
that the just grievances of the Germans must first be
redressed. The annats,* the pall-money. interference with
the rights of patronage, the numberless infringements of the
concordat, all these were brought up afresh, and some of the
* A year's income of a* spiritual living originally given to the Pope
on the death of a bishop or abbot, and paid by his successor.-Ta.




32      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
Spiritual princes-brought in petitions against special grievd
ances. Thus the Bishop of Liege proved by a long statistical paper that the German benefices became a prey to
Roman courtesans. If the spiritual princes spoke in this
way, it may be imagined how the Legate's propositions were
regarded by the temporal rulers.
Among the circumstances which occasioned this failure,
the passiveness of the imperial government respecting the
affair of Luther was a principal -one. When the controversy
began, the government-was at variance with Rome, and
looked on with satisfaction; but when it wished for reconciliation with Rome, and Rome wanted to employ it against
Luther, both schemes were frustrated at the Diet. This
plan, therefore, did not aid the Emperor in securing the
succession for his house. Shortly after this, in January,
15i9, the Emperor Maximilian died quite suddenly. He
was no longer young, but was still so vigorous that his death
was quite unexpected.
ELECTION OF A NEW EMPEROR.-FRANCIS I, OF FRANCE
AND CHARLES V. OF SPAIN.
All these circumstances greatly helped forward the
Reformation. The imperial power was for months in
abeyance, the papal power at least lessened; the regency
which now existed did not in any way alter the aspect of
affairs. The Count Palatine of the Rhine, with whose
house the Emperor had lived in bitter discord, was regent
in the south; the Elector Frederic the Wise, in the north
and east. It was plain that no steps would now be taken
against Luther. The Elector Palatine was not in the least
disposed to burden himself with this troublesome business;
the Elector Frederic was the avowed though prudent friend
and protector of the monk of Wittenberg.
The election of a new emperor was a grave question.
Had the old Elector Frederic, who had vigorously aided
the reforms in 1495, and at first maintained a close friendship with the Emperor, had any ambition to be emperor,
he would probably have been chosen unanimously.  But
he was too old, too cool-headed and sober, to put this
thorny crown into the scale against his secure position.
After he had declined; there was not one among tile
German princes who would have had any chance of being




FtRANCIS I,                 33
elected, nor vws there one among the electors who coveted
so burdensome an honour. Outside this circle candidates
were not wanting.  Two foreigners, Francis I. and Chariei
V., put forth their rival claims.
We often confound the Empire with the Kingdom  of
Germany, because the latter had for centuries grown up
together with the former. But the imperial crown was a
universal dignity, and therefore, the actual state of things
notwithstanding, it was quite possible that it might one day
devolve upon other than a German house.  It was on this
ground that France now strove to attain it. France had
become a more thoroughly compact and united state than
any of its neighbours, and therefore Francis I., from the
security of his domestic position, was the most powerful
monarch in Europe. He had still various projects on hand.
He already enjoyed a European reputation; he had not
long before begun his reign with the successful Italian
campaign; he had subdued the hitherto unvanquished
Swiss at Marignano,' and garrisoned the coveted city of
Milan. These successes had attracted a vast deal of attention; he was looked upon as a great general, though he
was in fact, as afterwards appeared, only a brave cavalier,
ever ready to risk his own life, but incapable of directing
a campaign or even a battle.
Charles of Spain had as yet nothing of the kind to show.
He seemed to be indebted for the lustre of his name to his
descent from so many great princes. He was not yet even
King of Spain. Maximilian's son, the handsome but dissolute Philip, had married Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand
and Isabella, and Spain and the New World fell to her lot.
Joanna seems to have been early subject to melancholy.
She is said to have given her husband a poisoned lovepotion, from jealousy. When Philip soon afterwards died
with all the syfiptoms of poisoning, her melancholy passed
into madness, from which she never recovered.
This Spanish melancholy had momentous results for the
house of Hapsburg, for it was transmitted through this
ancestress, and has never since disappeared. The earlier
Hapsburgs had nothing of it; down to Maximilian they
were of an energetic, enterprising temperament, more likely
to incur blame for daring rashness than for any tendency to
passive melancholy.
Charles was the child of this unhappy marriage. He
3




34      THE REFOPf.TION IN GERMANY.
was nominally regent while his mother was still queen.
From what was known of his character it was not supposed
that he would be likely to vanquish Francis I. Both the
fame and the powers of Francis were in their prime; he was
a brilliant, if not a weighty personage; he was possessed of
showy, thoroughly French talents; he was eloquent; amiable,
gallant, a type of the national character, including both its
good and bad features.  Francis was overrated, Charles
underrated. Charles could not be compared with so brilliant an individual  he was a delicate youth of scarcely
nineteen, had been reared with difficulty, and had inherited
his mother's gloomy, phlegmatic temperament; in spite of
his youth, he seemed to have scarcely one youthful trait
in his character; he had done nothing for immortality; in
his heavy Spanish manners there was not a spark of French
savoir-vivre; he had no valiant deeds, and but few gallant
adventures to boast of; in short, in every respect he was
thrown into the shade by Francis.
This insignificance was partly caused by the melancholy
circumstances of his youth, and by the fact that he was
always surrounded by powerful men who governed in his
stead. He afterwards acquired all that was now wanting
to him, and proved himself quite equal to great political
projects; indeed, it became evident that he possessed many
great political virtues, untiring industry, steady perseverance
and patience in a high degree, that he was the man to
devote his life to a great enterprise; and the more evident
this became, the more did he acquire supremacy over
Francis. But at the time when nothing of all this had
been proved, the decision, of course, rested on other
grounds.
In expenditure and energetic measures to insure election
both parties were equal. It cannot be reckoned to a florin
how much each spent, but it is certain that neither failed
in this respect. Heavy bags of gold came from France, and
we now know that the same came from Austria. The wellknown leaning of Francis towards absolutism was against
him. It was known how he treated parliaments in France,
how he commanded the levy of illegal taxes under pain of
execution: this did not accord with "ancient German
liberty."  It was also taken into account that Francis was
a foreigner, while Charles was at least half a German: lie
was descended from a German father and German ancestors,




'flE ELECTION BONDo                35
Since Maxnmilian's death, his'good quaTliies had been more
thought of; his people would not insult his house by
choosing his natural enemy as emperor.  It was considered, further, that the kingdom and the empire had been
united for centuries; that by reason of this union Germany
took a foremost place among the nations, which she would
no longer hold if the imperial crown were worn by a
foreigner. It was by a true instinct that the nation shrank
from the ambitious projects of the French king.
By degrees, however, the West German courts were
reproached with favouring the French too much, when
Frederic the Wise turned the scale; he summed up all
the points in Charles's favour, his descent, his ties with
the empire, his natural enmity to France, and he openly
declared that he should vote for him.
The French party vanished, no one knew how.  Every
one was ashamed to belong to it, and Charles was unanimously elected, although subject to stipulations which
showed that the people desired not to let the opportunity
slip of obtaining from the new emperor all that had been
withheld by the old one. They made an election contract,
or, as it is called in the Northern States, an election
bond.
POLITICAL POSITION OF CHARLES V. AT THE BEGINNING
OF HIS REIGN.
Charles was elected on June 28th, 15i9, and on July
3rd the election contract- was settled, which strictly defined the limits of his authority. Hereafter the Emperor
was not to employ any-foreign troops in the imperial wars
without the consent of the empire; not to convoke any Diet
beyond the bounds of the empire; he, was to give the
offices of the court and empire to natives of Germany
only; no language was to be employed in State transactions
but German or Latin; the states of the empire were not to
be subject to any jurisdiction beyond the bounds of the
empire. The Emperor was to be the protector of the Church,
but was to abolish everything which the Court of Rome had
introduced contrary to the concordat with Germany; he
was to confirm the sovereign rights of the princes, and to
establish an Imperial Chamber. He was not to alienate any
imperial possessions, not to issue any sentence of outlawry




36      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY,
without a trial, to maintain customs, duties, and privileges,
and to abolish the covenants between the knights and their
vassals.
There are three points in this bond which are of special
interest. The German empire endeavours to protect its
individuality against the foreignerl, tile Spaniard, which
afterwards proved to be of great importance. Then' the
Imperial Chamber, formed of the electors, -which Maxi-.
milian so obstinately opposed, was really established, and
at a most critical time ruled in the Emperor's stead. Finally,
by the clause relating to the ancient concordats between the
German empire and the Pope, the empire assumed a position towards him which was quite in accordance with the
transactions of the last Diet, but which, in the matter of the
existing ecclesiastical controversy, showed more favour to
Luther tOan to his opponents.
Thus the imperial throne was filled just at the time
when Luther was separating himself from  the Church.
No one yet knew the intentions or tendencies of the new
Emperor; he was like a blank sheet of paper upon which
every man inscribed his hopes and wishes. Some expected
from him the rescue of the Roman power from pressing
danger; others, like Hutten and Luther, the salvation of
the nation and the Reformation. Charles took a course of
his own, and probably disappointed them all.
A most important accession of power had all at once
accrued to the empire. Charles was not an emperor without-territory, and, as so many had been before him, unable
from -lack of means to confer dignity on the crown; he
brought more to the throne than any emperor had ever
done before. He was the hereditary Prince of Hapsburg,
possessed the German-Austrian territories, had established
his claims upon Bohemia and Hungary, which formed a
territory in the east which even then defined the outlines of
thle present Austrian. empire. Besides this, he was heir to
Burgundy, which his grandimother brought to the Emperor
Maximilian. It was hard to keep, indeed, but it was a jewel of
a possession. rich in all that nature and industry can offer,
covered with the most flourishing cities in the world, now
that the glory of the Italian cities was departed. Besides
this, there was the crown of Spaini with its Italian appendages-Naples, Sicily, the islands of Majorca and Minorca,
and the newly acquired and daily increasing possessions in




pOSITIO9N OF CHARLES.               37
the New World. No one had ever attained to such power
before, and Charleswasdowered with it while yet in his cradle,
The mediaval empire once more blazed up in splendour;
never before had it had possessions of such magnitude at
its disposal; never had a man ruled over it who was so cool
and sober a calculator, so little of an enthusiast as.Charles V.
In the last moments before its dissolution, mediaevalism
once more put forth all its strength to oppose the spirit of
the coming times; yet this colossal power, wielded by such
a personage, was not able to turn the world aside from the
course it was taking.
Both parties viewed the election of Charles with extravagant hopes. Luther and Hutten, as well as the Curia,
indulged in great expectations for their cause, and both
parties forgot Charles's standing in relation to the empire.
For Charles the imperial throne was only the crowning
honour of a position which doubtless received an accession
of glory from it, and yet was without it of great importance.
His position in the empire, in spite of its splendour, was
uncertain; its real significance was dependent on the fluctuations of party feeling among the princes and the people;
his crowns, his inherited dominions, were his permanent
possessions, without which the imperial crown was but an
empty name. In one scale lay his imperial dignity, in
the other his inheritance: should it become necessary to
balance them, it could not be but that the latter would
outweigh the former. It was in the nature of this empire,
composed of various elements, that it must comprise a
variety of political sentiments. It could not be said that
these possessions in Italy, Germany, Spain, the Netherlands, in the Mediterranean and beyond the sea, had any
natural connection. A government based on any homogeneous national policy was impossible. In Spain Charles
was called a German, in Germany a Spaniard, and both
were right and both wrong; he was not intimately and
nationally connected with any one of his dominions; he
could not from policy devote himself to any one: the prescribed construction of the empire forbade it. The German
princes,'therefore, sought to secure themselves against
Spanish' influence, and at a later period complained of
Spanish tyranny; on the other Land, the Spaniards tried
to defend themselves from what they called German influce and tyranny. That kindly relation of pesonal good.




38      TIME REFOIRMATION IN GERMANY.
will which can only exist between a native prince and
subjects -yho are also his countrymen was as impossible for
Charles in Spain and- Italy as it was in Germany. It existed,
to a certain extent, between him and the Netherlands. The
circumstance of his having been born at Ghent seems, to
have inspired him with some affection for it, but he was a
foreigner in Spain, and in Germany he understood neither
the language nor the spirit of the nation.
All this was'the result of circumstances which Charles
could not alter. The fulfilment ofi Huttern's hopes, especially that he would inaugurate his acceptance of the imperial
crown by restoring the kingdom of Germany, that at the
head of the nation he would'institute reform, and thus win
back for Germany her lost political, national, and ecclesiastical rank, was rendered impossible by the conditions of
his power. - The moment was certainly a critical. one, and
it was by a- rare. combination of events that this nation,
once the most powerful in Europe, distracted by a great
religious movement, had re entered into the old struggle
with Rome in a way which might enable their leader, in
case he rightly apprehended the tendencies of the people,
with their aid to create a consolidated power such as
had never existed in Germany before. It was this that
occasioned Napoleon I. to say that Charles. V. was a- fool
not to take advantage of such a moment to depose the
ruling princes, upset the papal power, make Germany a
united state, and thereby the greatest power in the world.
Napoleon would'have done it, but Charles V. was not
the man; the idea never entered his head, even had his
position out of Germany allowed him to, entertain it.
He had no taste for such hazardous games which lead
either to immortality or to sudden destruction. His strength
lay in patient perseverance, in the energy with which he
sought gradually to disentangle perplexing circumstances;
but he had nothing of the adventurous spirit which stakes
everything on one. throw.
Charles V. had grown up in Spain, where CObholicism
had preserved its life in the greatest freshness and vigour;
for up to recent times it had had to maintain its existence
against Islamism, and by the perpetual crusade against the
infidel the Church had been preserved from sinking into
that indolence into which she had sunk elsewhere.  A
Spanish prince who had grown up -i such an atmosphere




CHARLES V.                   39
would bring with him decidedly Catholic sentiments; he
might not, perhaps, be confirmed in a rigid faith, but such
general religious impressions as he had would unconsciously
take this stamp. This was the case with Charles V.; but
other considerations came into play. He regarded the imperial crown as an important lever of his power; and, in the
true mediaval spirit, he considered it to be closely connected with the unity of the Church, which he must under
all circumstances uphold, however she might be constituted
in other respects.
From this stand-point he might easily come into collision
with both the Pope and the Protestants. He disgusted the
latter when he let them  feel his power as Mediaval
Emperor for rebelling against the unity of the Church; he
would quarrel with Rome whenever her secular interests
interfered with his political schemes.
In spite of his pronounced Roman Catholic views, he was
by no means unconditionally submissive to the policy of the
Church. In the course of the last decades Rome had more
than ever become a temporal power; Julius II. and Leo X.
were far mrore of temporal than spiritual rulers. Rome now
paid dearly for having been actuated in her policy solely by
worldly motives, like any other state of Italy; for, lamentable
as this might be, it was the fact. It might easily happen
that Charles V., once so good a son of the Church, might,
from political reasons, become unfriendly to Rome. Indeed,
such a case had just occurred, for Rome had exerted herself
against Charles's.election, because at that time very powerful
princes were dreaded in Italy and in the rest of Europe.
They had seen through this at the court of Madrid, and
were at no loss for a counter-stroke.  On May 12th,
I520, Manuel, the Emperor's commissioner, wrote to him:." Your Majesty must go to Germany and show some favour
to a certain Martin Luther, who is to be found at the
court of Saxony, and is a cause of'some anxiety to the
court of Rome from the things which he preaches."
Charles's mode of looking at things was exclusively
political, and the aim of his education had been to make
it so. He had had no real youth, and was wanting in the
elasticity and spirits which are characteristic of that period
of life. The pupil of the cold Burgundian-Spanish school
was destitute of every youthful trait; but in diplomacy,
which was his calling, he surpassed many of the maturest




40      THE REFOft ATION IN. GERMANY.
princes of Europe. In his circle religious matters were
regarded' with great indifference. People permitted themselves to say very bad things about the Church and the
Papacy, while they earnestly desired that the people should
retain their very useful superstitions, but did not imagine
it possible that men's minds could ever be deeply. affected
by such things; in fact, they were as completely strangers to
the real nature of religion as were the proud and worldly
dignitaries of the Church. It was in this that the fundamental error of Charles's policy lay with regard to the great
question of the age.  He made his calculations in a wonderful manner; in the long labour of a lifetime he cast up
everything figure by figure; but one thing he could not discover, the logarithm for the religious commotions of his time.
He could not comprehend them; he thought a monk might
be set up like a puppet, and then be suffered to fall down
again; he once even imagined that the matter could be
settled with a few thousand dollars. This narrowness of
view, combined with his otherwise magnificent diplomatic
virtuosoship, is exceedingly remarkable, and it occasioned
his fall. It was this that occasioned the greatest power
which the world had seen to suffer shipwreck in the tumults
of the age stirred up by a single monk. It was with the
feeling of his powerlessness against this unknown something
that Charles abdicated and went into a monastery.
A man may be an eminent personage and have powerful
means at his disposal, but if he does not comprehend- the
ideas of his time, if he does not with his whole soul take
one side or the other, he will be an alien in a world where
a man must be either hammer or anvil, and he will not
escape the fate of Charles V. The.well-known story of
the two clocks well illustrates his position; at all events,
he may have so spoken and acted, for it was in accordance
with his character.
The character and policy of Charles V. cannot be defined
with a word.  A multitude of contradictory ideas and
qualities were jumbled together in his-mind. His position
as Prince of Burgundy, hereditary Prince of Hapsburg, as
King of Spain, and Emperor of Germany, gave him a
number of complicated problems tc, solve, and they were
decided in favour of one interest'or another, according to
the number of the factors. IHe was never influenced by any
but external motiv.s'in his decisions,:and'this was hisiruin,




ARLES V.                       41 
It was in the nature of things that it shoull be so.
Tone of those who approached him with great hopes
appreciated the necessities imposed upon him; but for us
this complication of circumstances had tragic results. An
emperor had appeared once more with a dazzling position
in Europe, but his heart was a stranger to the thoughts
that were agitating Germany; he did not even understand
the language of the nation whose patriots were looking
to him for the prosperity of their country; and thus the
empire again became the sport of European complications,
the fate of the nation was again'enchained to aims and
enterpri es which h l nothing to do with her future,




CHAPTER IV.
The Diet of Worms, Spring of 152I.-Agreement between the
Emperor and the Pope.-Negotiations about Luther.-The Mandate of 8th-26th May, I52I.-Growth of the Regal. Power in
France under Francis I., I515-47.-His Domestic and Foreign
Policy.-The First War, 152I-26.
THE DIET OF WORMS, APRIL AND MAY,' I52. —-AGREZMENT BETWEEN THE POPE AND THE EMNPEROR. —NEGOTIATIONS ABOUT LUTHER, —THE MANDATE OF MAY,
ROME had exhausted her weapons against Luther; the
papal ban had fallen powerless to the ground; unless
the Emperor interfered, the cause of the Curia was lost.
The young Emperor now came to Germany for the.first
time to arrange the details of the election contract at the
Diet, and at the same time to speak the decisive word
on the question of Church reform. This latter task was
peculiarly difficult. On the one hand, the unity of the
Catholic Church must be maintained, yet the abusep within
her, of which even his own confessor Glapion thought
seriously, must be remedied.  On the other hand, the
clamorous demands of the Germans must be satisfied.
They had been asking for reform for centuries, and it
could scarcely be any longer denied; yet it must be so
carried out that, if possible, the whole nation should share
in the benefit of it: in short, Charles was to carry out
reform in such a manner that neither the unity of the
Church nor that of the nation should suffer. Everything
else that devolved upon him at the Diet was thrown cormn-.
pletely into the shade by this task.
But he was met at the outset by the unfortunate fact,
that he had no clear comprehension of the situation, nor of
the importance of the commotion in Germany; and a new




T        DIE T OF WORMS.           43
combination of his worldly plans and the Romish policy
had just arisen, which might determine his course on the
German question. A war with France was threatened,
about the old question of claims to Northern Italy: in such
a war it would be of the greatest moment for the Emperor
to have the Pope, the most distinguished ruler of Italy, on
his side. The Church party saw plainly that nothing could
be accomplished in Germany without the Emperor, and so
they met each other half-way.
I'hey came to a preliminary agreement which amounted
t&!this: the Pope is to support the Emperor in Italy
agaiit France, and in return the Emperor is to help to
put an end to heresy in Germany.*
This was not in accordance with the duty or the position
of the German Emperor; it was far, indeed, from acknowledging the nation's right to Church reform, while saving
it from a religious schism. It was a case, at this first
momentous crisis, in which the domestic interests of the
Hapsburg-Spanish house were allowed to triumph over the
most sacred interests of the nation. It was a course which
bitterly revenged itself on Charles.  What would he not
have given, nine years later, could he but have bought this
moment back! Both parties were then looking to him;
both were ready to abide by his decision, if it were practicable and reasonable.  Had he taken the right course,
he would have had far more power at his disposal than
he could ever acquire by the most dexterous intrigues
with Rome. The evil consequences of the error of 152I
cannot be over-estimated.
Charles had in the main arrived at a decision before
the Diet assembled. The Diet, therefore, was a court whose
sentence was ready before the parties had been heard; the
Emperor had made up his mind that, to please the Pope,
he must put:an end to heresy.
Charles did not perceive that this was impossible, even
at the cost of a civil war, for his thoughts were beyond
the Alps; he had turned his back upon the German business
before he had publicly taken it in hand.  The Edict of
Worms was, therefore, not only an injustice, because it
pronounced sentence upon a question which had never
been honestly investigated; it was also an error, for by it
* There was no formal agreement till May 8th, i521, See Ranke.




44      TH  REFORMATON m  GRASANY.
a most valuable opportunity was lost, and the imperial
authority was as much weakened by it as the papal authority
had'been by a bull that nobody heeded.
From the immense popular interest excited by the citation
of the Wittenberg monk, it was plain that the nation cared
for nothing somuch as for thlis question. Luther felt this,
and determined -to go to Worms before he knew whether
safe-conduct would be granted him or not.. I-e set aside
every suggestion of recantation, and was ready joyfully to
give his life for his convictions.  He wrote to Spalatin,
who was negotiating with him on behalf of the Emperor
and the Elector:-" If it should ever be that.' should be
delivered up, not only to the high priests, but also to the
heathen, the Lord's will be done. I hereby give you my
advice and opinion:  you may expect everything from me,
6nly not that I shall -flee or recant; T shall not flee, far
less recant, so surely as imy Lord Jesus strengthens  me, for
I can do neither the one nor the other without danger to
godliness and the salvation of many." And in another letterto the same he says:-"l If his Majesty calls me to account
so that I am ruined, and am looked upon on account of my
answer as an enemy to the empire, still I am ready to
come..For I have no intention of fleeing, -nor of leaving
the Word in danger, but I mean to confess it Aunto death
so far as Christ's grace sustains  me! But I am certain
that the bloodhounds will not est till they have put nme to
death."
Luther felt to the full the responsibility of the steps he
had taken; he thought it doubtful whether the Emperor's
safe-conduct would protect him; he knew the fate of Huss
well; but he knew also that to go back would be to condemn himself and ruin the object he had in view, and he
therefore acted with all that fearless courage with which his
good conscience and trust in God inspired him. The juxtaposition of affairs ias this: on the one hand, political
calculation, which thought it had taken ever3hing into
account, and yet failed;  on the other, manly faithfulness
to conviction, which did not weigh or calculate, but acted
with the feeling that the future depended upon ito The
Edict of Worms was torn in pieces a few days after it was
issued; the simple man in a cowl, who went to Worms with
the feeling thati he would rather die than flee belonged
henceforth to-the world's history.




e  out   s couc wth   e  p   ut all itsO  4
The court was conducteed with great pomp, but'all its
solemn appas'atus w7as an empty pageant; fobr, however the
accused might defend himself, the sentence had been atieady
arranged with Rome.
On the first days the x 7th of April, ihe style of his defence
was embarrassed.  The sight - of- this great assemblage
of dignitaries of the empire and Church abashed. the
monk, who, as we have seen, still found it difficult to surmount his timidity in the pulpit.  He spoke low' often
scarcely intelligibly; and it was not till near the close of
the second hearing that he regained facility of utterance
and the full power of his voice. There was something
rustic and unaffected in his mode of speaking; he had
nothing of the diplomatic polish which the strangers among
the audience might have expected, but his bearing was
thorouglly firm and unyielding. He maintained that nothing but the plain words of Holy Scripture, no-threat
nor power should induce him  to recant, and exclaimed,
"Here I stand; I can do no otherwise; God help rnel
Amen."
The Spaniards present could not comprehend how so
insignificant an individual, who displayed so little talent
or learning, should have caused such a -scandal inl Germany,
and Charles V. exclaimed  "The. monkt would.not make
a heretic of me-,"
But the German princes, Frederic the Wise; Eric of
Brunswick, and Ph1ilip of -esse, were proud of their
countryman, and agreed- that he had stood out bravely for
his convictions against. all objections and threats.  By
their advice he took his departure immediately after the
hearing at Worms; they did not think it safe- for him to
linger  the Elector Frederic even thought- it needful to
place him in safety by a nocturnal surprise, and to withdraw him for a time from the eyes of the world.
The rest of the Diet was occupied with transactions -of
a different kind, and it did not appear as if any- steps would
be taken about the heresy, When, on the 25th of May,. the
Emperor had the prin.ces who were still present suddenly
summoned, to submit for their approval the decree which
had been prepared  concerning Luther.  Many of the
representatives were no longer present, particularly those
from whom opposition might be expected; but in order to
make the world believe that the decision had been arrive&




46      THE REFORMATION rI  GERMANY.
at - in the presence- of all the princes, the prudent pre.
caution was taken of dating the decree, of which nobody had
heard till the 2 5th, back to the 8th. This artifice of the
Papal Nuncio, Alexander, showed that his party were not
sure of their ground, and were obliged to smuggle in a
sentence which a fortnight before they could not have hoped
to carry.  The decree thus obtained was signed by the
Emperor on the 26th of Mayy and pronounced upon Luther,
his friends, followers, and patrons, a sentence of ban and
double ban, and condemned his WMorks to be burned. The
sentence enumerates all Luther's heresies, and then says:" Thus this individual, not a man, but one like the evil
one in human form, under a monk's cowl, has gathered
together in one stinking mass a number of heretics who
have been long concealed, and hold most damnable heresies;
and he has even devised some fresh ones under pretence of
preaching faith, which he has so assiduously made every
one believe, in order that, he may destroy the real true
faith, and under the name and guise of evangelical doctrine,
put an end to all evangelical peace, and love, and all good
order."
The proceedings at Worms are then related; how, in
spite of all admonitions, "which might have moved and
softened the most obdurate man, even had he been
harder thanr stone," "he had refused to recant," and with
" those unbecoming words and gestures which in no way
teseem any thoughtful ecclesiastic of good repute, openly
declared that he would not alter a word in his books."
Safe-conduct was granted to Luther for twenty days after
his departure: after this, that is, after the 14th of May, it
was forbidden under severe penalties " to give the aforesaid
Luther house or home, food, drink, or shelter, to afford
him help or countenance, openly or secretly, by words
or actions." He is rather to be secured and given up
wherever he may be found. In conclusion, measures were
taken against the printing and printers of his works.
Thus, after a blow had been stru'ck at heresy by the
ecclesiastical ban, it was sentenced to death by the
secular ban of the empire. The Lutheran heresy was to
be exterminated by all the weapons of the temporal power,
so it was stated in the edict of the 26th of May. But the
edict shared the fate of the papal bull. Nobody heeded it.
Two years later the Diet came to a precisely contrary resolu.




GROWTH OF POWR IN FRANCE.    47
tion; and after'nine years, the Emperor, on his return,
found that the disturbance, instead- of being quelled, had
attained gigantic proportions.  The opportunity of x52 
did not occur again. It was a misfortune for the Emperor,
but it was also a misfortune for our nation; it suffers from
it to this day.
GROWTH OF THE REGAL, POWER IN FRANCE.*
-It was the impending war with  France  that mainly.
induced Charles to treat the German reform  question in
such a manner as to please the power on whose support he
was relying in Italy.  The struggle in Northern Italy now
began which occupied the Emperor for almost a generation,
and completed the estrangement between him and the
Germans. These tedious complications were a great help
to the Reformation; but. France was even then beginning
to acquire that power and unity as a state which were so
fatal to Germany and Europe in the seventeenth century.
We linger for a time over the growth of the French
power, in order that we may understand the causes of subsequent developments.
The internal constitution of France was essentially dif-~
ferent from that of Germany. Both countries had originally
belonged to the Carlovingian empire, but both had separated
from it at an early period. The character of the nations
differed too -widely.
While the tendency of public life in Germany during
the'course of centuries has increasingly been towards the
manifold forms of individuality, and the old  Germanic
spirit of liberty has asserted itself, in France we may observe
the tendency of the Romanic nations to submit with more
facility to great organizations.t
In France, or in the west of France, there was no thought.
* Ranke,  French' History."
t Thus broadly stated, I do not consider this distinction just, though
it is frequently made. The consequences of our want of political unity
are' too often taken for the causes. That spirit of individuality which
is inimical to the State was no less strongly developed among the great
men of France in the Middle Ages than among the Germans, and I see
no difference between the loyalty of the French citizen class and the
loyalty of the German cities to the' Emperor which is at all to the disadvantage of the latter. But in France the highest powers in the
State knew better who were their natural allies than they did in
Germany. —ED.




48      THE REFORMATION IN GE3RMAB Y.
of resistance to Charlemagne, for ever since the battle of
Alesia the people were accustomed  to  renounce their
individual liberties and to submit to a monarchical government. There was a centralizing tendency in the tastes of
the people earlier than there was in Germany. There were,
indeed, greater and lesser vassals, even independent princes,
in comparison with whom the impotence of the sovereign
was painfully obvious, but th'e national characteristics were
different from ours, and prevented the divisions of territories
and families from destroying unity, as has been the case
with us.
After the end of the tenth century came that manly
though not highly gifted race of the Capets, who, favoured by
fortune, went quietly to work, step by step, to found the
monarchy. Germany was also distinguished from France
by this, that in the former the principle of election was in
favour, which is incompatible with a solid government, while
in France a hereditary monarchy was'early established
without difficulty.
France thus had a people disposed for, and for centuries
trained to, monarchical unity, and a hereditary dynasty
which therefore had not always, like the German kings, to
make a fresh start; then they had long reigns, from forty
to fifty years, which were admirably adapted to accustom
the people to transitions to new orders of things; and
France was much more favourably situated geographically.
It was open on the eastern side; none of the country to
the east, from the Rhone to Flanders and Artois, belonged
to France till a much later period; but the rest was
admirably fitted by nature for one united state, bounded
as it was by the Pyrenees on the south, and by the sea on
the two other sides,
But Germany, which might have had, although she never
had, a southern boundary in the Alps, really had a good
boundary on the north side only, in the North Sea and the
Baltic; on the east and west she always had to guard an.
insecure and ill-defined frontier. The Germany of to-day
was only conquered late in the Middle Ages, and the Elbe,
which now flows through its centre, was then its boundary.
Then the position of France, though not a brilliant one,
involved no European  complications.  The kingdom  of
Germany was united to the empire, whose glory had been'dearly, bought, and whose foreign policy was always interfered




GROWTH  OF POVER IN. FANCE.C               4
ith and rendered tincertain by the slow processes of the
internal. administrative system.   Germany had -to thank her
perptu  wars with Italy for this -state of things, in which,
for whole' generations, the best blood of Germnasy had been
shed for no good purpose; and, finally, there was the
great conflict with. the Churchh which the King of Germany
had to fight out alone because he was also..Eperor'While in the eleventh century Germany was subject to
fearful convulsionsr  France was pursuing  the even tenor
of her way, and, unmolested by any foreign or especially
Romarr  indluence  she was in a far blette position for setting
her house in order. This is why  he strggle beavee''~
Church'and State in France wVas  nevelx so vehement as
in Germany; on the contary, they worke together against
the system of secular vassalage.
The first of te  Capets was, like the rest, g.ke, and
not even one of the mrost powerful; but the gradunt.
extension of the dukedom by n eans of t' tconfiscation  o'
expired or forfeited fiefs was much easier thn in Gerrnany5,
where the  rincipalities had a strong leaning to paricu
dynasties,  wile mi France no one raised a finger agais t
confiscations  The divisions of the empirr e which hayve been
so fatal in Germany, the- custom of grantim  g prncipalities;
to faithfil vasl or near r latives, was unknown i France:
the Fren-c_ pri.es remained merely princes,. Once only
was a pincipality. bestowed on a, reiatyve e:  by this the
Duchy of Burg'"dy was created, but its rulers, Philip
the Good and. Charles he Bold, entirely borgot that they
were vassals of France, which served, to teach the kings
not to depart from their ancient policyo
Thus the period of the Crusades found France in'a more
settled state than any other country of the Con.inent, and
thie nation entered into the movement with real enthusiasm.
The romantic and adventurous character of it.fascinated
the' natio, and the kings headed these national enterprises,
although they did not offer much.prospect of gain to France;
but the kingdom derived this great advantage from them,
that they provided an outlet.for the superfluous energies
of the high aristocracy  who -more and more disappeared
from thsene. Ti hus as'early as in the thirteenth century,
while the kingdom of Germany,'in perpetual coiflict with
the Principalities and the Church, was making. no progress,
the French kingdom'was advannqig rapidly towards unityr
4




gO5      THE RIFORMATION IN GERMANY.
and St. Louis, who as a tavalier and good son of the
Church was a genuine Frenchman, was diligently and successfully employed in founding a monarchy which should
outlive the storms of time.
Then came the severe test of the long war with England, in which two aristocracies' tore each other to pieces
for nothing.. England repeatedly had her kings proclaimed
at Paris, and no decisive result took place until the French
people were roused and asserted their independence with
the sword.
This took place under Charles VII., from  142I —6x.
He was- one of those far-sighted, cautious, agreeable people
who accomplish a great deal by patience. perseverance,
amiability, and good-nature, and often easily attain an
object which much more talented tnen find' it very difficult
to reach by an attitude of defiance.
After a foreign war which had lasted a century, and
had developed into a civil war, a royal dictatorship was
most necessary; it gave the State peace, legal protection,
power, and unity; and Charles VII. understood his mission:
he was thoroughly a king, like Louis IX. He did not disgrace his victory over the city of Paris by any acts of
revenge: for the first time during this long struggle the
supremacy of one resulted in reconciliation to the rest,
instead of fresh subjection. The Pragmatic Sanction, which
was solemnly confirmed by the French clergy at Bourges
in x438, secured the national Church of France against
illegal gifts of benefices and. extortions by the court of
Rome, and the new parliament, removed from Poictiers to
Paris, became the centre of the regal administration of
justice, and preserved France from all. encroachments of
ecclesiastical power. At a meeting of the States at Orleans,
in 1439, the lawless paid troops of the nobles were disbanded, and the right of maintaining a paid army,. and of
levying a tax for the purpose, delegated to the king alone.*
Thus were laid the foundations of the modem  monarchical military system and political economy. And all
this was amicably accomplished by one man with the aid of
the country itself. What Charles VII. had thus slowly and
cautiously established was carried on with far greater energy
by his son.
* 12 *nlk




GROWTH OF POWER IN FRANCE.               51
Louis'XI. was a tyrannical character, after the pattern
of the Italian statesmen of the fifteenth century, hardened
in all the unscrupulousness and rudeness of the age, and
when they served his purpose he did not shrink fromn the
most frightful crimes.
Louis IXI. (I4I —83) had again t6 defend what his
family had laboured so hard to acquire from a revolt of
all the great vassals, under the greatest of them, Charles
the Bold of Burgundy, in x465. After suffering defeat at
first, Louis triumphed finally over the dynasty: with the
help of the Swiss he utterly vanquished Charles and his
proud domain. This at once brought Picardy and Burgundy
under his sway, and no one ventured to oppose when
he, added Guienne and Provence to the crown. He was
utterly unscrupulous as to the means he employed in his
struggle with the great nobles; but the citizens and peasantry
sided with him, for he confirmed their ancient provincial
rights and conferred new privileges on the cities. In one
place he was ready to convoke the States; in another
he allowed the citizens to meet and choose their own
officials; and to the peaceable inhabitants of town and
country he gave the benefits of an impartial administration
of justice by the parliamentary judges, who could not be
dismissed.  In spite of his execrable private character
and his utter want of moral greatness, France justly considers him one of the most meritorious founders of her unity
as a state.
Thus, at the close of the fifteenth century, a powerful
monarchy existed in France, not as yet unlimited, but
moderated by law and usage: still it was a royal dictatorship of extraordinary power.
FRANCIS I., B15IS47.-INTERNAL AND FOREIGN POLICY.
Francis I. had succeeded to the monarchy in 1515.
He had at once distinguished himself on his accession to
power by asserting the claims of his predecessors in Italy,
gained the victory at Marignano (September,  5I15) in a
rapid campaign, and took Milan, by which he acquired a
more brilliant reputation than he was able to maintain.
In his internal policy, all the principles which afterwards
actuated the kings and statesmen of France may already.
be recognised.  He tries to free the monarchical power




52       1T-VE RI EFORMATION.'~. GERI..ANY~
from all limits from  within: a sole monarchy bemng esta.
blished, his aim now was to make it absoluteo One of his first
acts was the Concordat with Roime in 1 5 6, which sacrificed
a portion of the liberties of'the Gallican Church to the
Pope, but it gave the King in return boundless influence
over the Church in France,
At the great councils of the' fifteenth century France
had succeeded in preserving the peculiar rights of her
national Church, which Germany had also ardently longed
to do, but in  ihich, th anks to her political disruption, she
had not succeeded.. The Council at Bourges, 1483, had
proclaimed the freedom  of the Gallican Clhurch by the
Pragmatic Sanction.  The Church.government of:France,
her episcopal system, her general -position int relation to
Rome, had become more independent than that of any
other country, and the odious customr of the distribution of
benefices according to the arbitroa  will of. the court of
Rome was abolished.  But Rome did not easily submit to this: having defrauded Germany of her promised
liberties, the hope was not given up'of reinstating the- old
state of things in France.  in the Concordat of xSi6, the
King, who was above aji things desirous ofa reconciliation
with the Pope, succeeded in obtaining some im por ant decisions of the Pragmatic Sanction relating to the superionity
of councils to the Pope, the papal supremacy, and annafs;.
but the King did not yield. these points for nothing; the
Church had to indemnify him abundantly, and grant him
the right of presentation to an enormous extent, According
to French accounts, France had then ten archbishoprics,
eighty-three  bishoprics, five hundred  and  twenty-seven
abbacies; and the King obtained the right, under merely
norinal limits, of nominating the holders of a  the e
offices, who had previously been elected.
It was conceded to Rome that the Gallican Church
should give up a portion of her liberties, and the King
assumed the right of nomination at the expense of the
elective right of the clergy-a privilege which gave him
enormous resources for providing for followers, granting
favours, and making the Church an institution entrely
devoted to himself.  Whether this -vas an advantage to
the Church we shall see by-and-by.
It is a fundamental principle of French rule to nominate
to as many posts as possible from one centre, in order te




FR CIS L.                      5 3
provide for as many dependants as possibleo  This system
has been pursued ever since the time. of Francis I., under
the old re'gime, the R-epublic, the Empire, the Restoration, the Government of July, and the second Empire.
A second innovation was the plan of selling legal and
administra tive offices.
Each of the ancient crown lands had a parliament, or
superior court, and during the second half of the fifteenth
century, in x444 and x5oIx parliaments were.granted to
the new provinces also.  By introducing the custom  of
selling places in these parliaments, Francis I. attained two
objects: he suppressed the provincial sprit which reigned
in these courts, and superseded it by the submissive spirit
of members who were dependent on the crown; and it
created a great source of income, which, together with the
increased military tax, raised his revenues to a sum  far
above that of any other prince.
Besides the sale of the judicial places, there was the sale
of offices of every sort, the number  of which was finmensely increased, to the great advantage of the royal
coffers. The annual income from this source is estimated at
four hundred thousand francs.  But these novel practices
gave rise to opposition, and the parliaments protested. This
showved what the royal authority could venture to do even
then.  Francis Io behaved as imperiously as Louis XIV.
afterwards did, when hie entered the parliament whip in
hand.  Francis told the malcontents that he gave them
twenty-four hours to consider, and if they would not then'
submit he would have them  imprisoned; and  so little
independent spirit was there, that they actually submitted.
As may be supposed, the relation of Francis to the
religious questions of the day was a perfectly simple one: his
sentiments on these subjects were as frivolous as those of all
thel dignitaries of both Church and State at that period, and
his life and morals were a pasquinade upon all religion.
He regarded the subject in a purely political light, and said
to himsef, " Protestantism, in the shape it takes in France,
makes a division in the nation; it destroys the' unity of
the monarchy. C lvinism, indeed, has-a strong democratic
element in it; it is based upon the principle of self-government and individual independence;,  it is therefore' an enemy
to be resisted to the utmost."  Catholicism, in fact, signified
national unity in France, whicn had developed into. the




54      TMHE IEFORMATION IN GERMANY.
essential characteristic of the monarchy, and every other
consideration had to give way to it.
But this did not prevent Francis from being a warm
friend and ally of Protestantism in Germany, though he
burnt and persecuted its adherents in France; the policy
which suffered no'schism at home found it very judicious
to foment it with all its might abroad. Indeed Francis IL
was so free from  any mediaeval prejudices. that he -did
things which no Christian of. those times could think of
without horror. On onie point, in spite of its national and
dogmatic schisms,.all Christendom was agreed-that the,
Turk was the hereditary enemy of Christendom, and thati
it must prepare for a fresh crusade to repulse the roughest
and most degenerate race of Turks that had settled not
only in Asia, but also in Europe. In face of.this common
enemy religious differences disappeared, even in Germany.
When the Turks approached and threatened Vienna, there
was a general call to arms, which was eagerly obeyed both
by Catholics and Protestants.
But for Francis I. the Turk was only a political factor,
like Protestantism in Germany, and Calvinism in -France.
The Turkish difficulty wasa millstone which might be hung
round the neck of the Hapsburger to insure peace and quiet
in the West. The King did indeed bear- the title of Rex
Christianissimus, but on this point he had no conscience.
The French, who now first broke with the-Middle Ages,
have always kept to this policy of setting the Osman upon
Germany, that they themselves might grasp at the Rhine.
All the features of. the domestic and foreign policy of
modem France now begin to be discernible. The monarchy,
absolute and strictly centralized, is bent upon foreign conquest.
The attempt'of Francis 1. to obtain the imperial crown
introduced him at once into the vortex of foreign politics.
He had no delusions.on the subject of the real power
conferred by. the imperial crown. Still the name and glory
of it- excited his ambition. It never occurred to him to
wish to rule in Germany as he did in France; he did not
covet any more intimate connection with the chaotic
elements of the German constitution; but it would have
been quite enough for him, and would have justified his
being a candidate, from the French point of view, to have
exercised a little authority as Protector of the Confedera.




CAMPAIGN OF 1521-26.                55
tion of the Rline, and thus to exert a legitimate French
influence over the west of Germany, and avert the rise of
a formidable rival power.
This would have made Francis I. an opponent of any
German emperor, especially of one with such a patrimony
gs Charles V. Two such powers could not have existed
side by side, even had they been less directly brought into
contact.  France was always striving to obtain a natural
boundary on the east and north-east as well as on the
south, but Charles V. was ever in his way: in one case
as inheritor of the Duchy of Burgundy, the confiscation of
which by Louis XI. he of course did not acknowledge; in
the other, as King of Spain, whose natural Pyrenean
boundary was not then exactly the boundary of France.
This alone rendered it certain that a collision would sooner
or later take place.
The outbreak occurred in Northern Italy. The houses of
Valois and Hapsburg made equal claims upon the ancient
imperial territories of Milan and Genoa, and this was
their first battle-field.
Thus arose the great war of I52I-26, which neither
answered the King's expectations nor added to his fame.
CAMPAIGN OF X521-26.
The contest began at the end of 1520 in Navarra. This
campaign is only interesting from the fact that it was at
the defence of Pampeluna against the French that Ignatius
Loyola received the wound which led to his renouncing
this world's chivalry and devoting himself to spiritual
warfare.
At first, in x52I and 1522, fortune favoured Charles V.
In spite of the faithlessness of the Confederation, which at
first placed all its infantry at the disposal of the Emperor
and the Pope, and then suffered them to be diverted by
French money, the allied armies were everywhere successful.
On the 27th April, 1522, the Swabian vassals, under the
imperial Captain George Frundsberg, supported by Spanish
and Italian auxiliaries, defeated the Swiss and French
troops at Bicocca, and the whole of Milan again came into
the hands of Francescb Sforza, who acknowledged the
Emperor as feudal sovereign. As the Swiss returned home
and the French gave up the campaign for lost, Genoa




could no longer be heb d l  and thus i    a few months the
Emperor became master of the wo Woe of Northern Italy.
Meanwhile the pos ion of'European affairs had become
extremely favourabde fr Charles V.  Francis stood quite
alone, and was threatened v-h interinal divisions   England'
sided'with. the Emprpeor and the ppaal p olicy and his owmn
were closely enited.
Leo X. died in Decemnber,  52X, and his ally the'Emperor
found no dificulty in exerting a strongn  iniluence over the
election. of his successor; his foxmer tutor, Cardinal von
Utrecht, was made Pope. He was a strict and simple
monk, brought  aonastic discipline, in its best sense, to
the Holy See, and in this spirit he was ready to promote, a
reform in the Chureh   Dogmatically he maintained the
old' doctrines of the Church; but upon the necessity for.improvement in Oe lives and conduct of the ecclesiastics
he was of the. same. oplion as the Reformers.  The
short reign of this pope is especially instructive as bearing
-on the question how far it was possible to carry out reform
in amd with Rome. We shall recur to +his again.
In politics the Pope was entirely submissive to his pupil.
Francs IL could not hope for any advancement of his
cause from this quarter any more than from his arms. A
catastrophe then happened in France itself, which appeared
to promise unexampled success to the Emperor. The systemr
Qf. vassalage, the great feudal power which seemed to have
been for ever abolished by Louis XI., once more rose up
against the King, and with a suiciently threatening aspect,
though it had but one formidable representative.
-A relation of the royal house on the paternal side, not
only the most disting ished man in the- kingdom, next to
the King, but also the m.ost vealthy, the Constable Charles
of Bourbon, took the side of the enemies of Francds.
In the thirteenth  centmary St. Louis had married one of
his sons to  wealthy heiress, w'ho brought to her husband
the territory of Bourbon. The last of the Bourbons, Duke
P.eter, had no male heir; his daughter Susanna was his
heiress, and Louis XIY. gave her in marriage to the prince
of the younger line, Count Charles "of Montpensier. By
this marriage he received no less than two pinprcippalities,
two duchies, four earldoms, two viscounties, seven consider;
able territories, and an almost regal income.  As a relation
of the reigning house he acquied fthe office of Constable,




CAMPAIGN OF 1521-26.                5
and might even one day aspire to the crown, This contingency, which then appeared somewhat distant, soon
really happened to the other Bourbon  line.  It then
appeared extremely improbable that of all Francis's sons
only Henry II., whose children died early, would survive
him.
The character of Charles of Bourbon was entirely different
from that of Francis I. Bette' acquainted with serious business, less devoted to the frivolous arts and pleasures of the
court, not only a'brave soldier but an experienced general,
not a rash Hotspur upon the battle-field like the King, possessing cool, calculating, far-sighted ambition, he was a man
whose personal qualities made him greatly his superior.
Favoured at first by the King, he was afterwards neglected, and after the death of his childless wife Susanna
they were at open enmity. The Queen-mother, as niece of
Duke Peter, wanted to deprive him of his possessions. It
came to a trial and a rupture, and in August, 5z52, Charles
applied to the Emperor and to Henry VIII. of England to
help him to become independent of Francis.
There were great expectations from such revolts, which,
when the system of vassalage was still in its vigour and was
supported by a sentiment of historical clanship, were. often
successful; but this was not then the state of things in
France, where the instinct of nationality and loyalty to the
regal government already prevailed over every other consideration. At first the affair had a formidable aspect, for it
appeared as if a long train of retainers would follow the
most powerful noble in the kingdom. Bourbon had promlised ten thousand infantry if the allies would attack the
country in ithree places simultaneously. But, in truth, all
that resulted from  it was that the Emperor acquired in
Charles a brave general, who was condemned as a ruler in
France from the moment when he called in the aid of foreign
arms. The kingdom gained more than it lost by this circumstance.  The whole enterprise which was built upon
the revolt failed. The scheme had been to carry the wai
into the heart of France, to excite all malcontents to take
up arms against the King, and to divide the kingdom into
two parts; but the German, Dutch, and Spanish troops who
invaded Champagne, Picardy, and Languedoc, found no
support anywhere, and when, in the summer of 1524,
Bourbon hiimself led  an army, consisting of Germa an




53      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
Spanish, and Italian troops, into Provence, it was only with
difficulty that town after town was taken, and while the
assailants were losing precious time over the fruitless siege
of Marseilles, France was making immense sacrifices for
the very princes against whom the revolt had been made.
Thus the failure of this campaign and the awakening of a
national instinct in France changed the military  spect of
affairs in favour of King Francis.
In spite of his victories, the Emperor was not in a position
to carry on the war long without a decisive result. He fully
experienced the curse of hireling troops. The Swiss, who
were dependent on the policy of their cantons, were twice'
recalled, desertion affected the rest on a large scale, and
nothing availed to prevent it. The German vassals alone
remained true to him, and these were commanded by brave
and trusty generals, who did not fail the Emperor even
when he was short of money.
Under the impression of the recent turn of affairs,
Francis I. had applied to the people for aid, and an extraordinary war-tax was granted him voluntarily by the
towns and extorted from the clergy and nobles.  With
these means he had assembled a new and brilliant array,
and in the winter of I524-5 it had crossed the Alps and
advanced into the plains of Lombardy.  Francis drove
the imperial troops before him, and everything appeared
to be in his favour when, on the 24th of February, I525,
the imperialists resolved to give battle at Pavia, for their
only chance'Was starvation or a decisive encounter. They
relied upon the superior generalship of Pescara and Frundsberg, the tough resistance of the German troops, and the
fearful effect of their hooked arquebuses; and they were
right. The mail-clad French knighthood fought valiantly,
Francis at their head, always in the thickest of the fight,
and forgetting the part of commander in that of a cavalier.
For an hour and a half the combat continued; first the
German vassals, from Guelders a:nd Lorraine, in the right
wing of the French, were cut down by their imperial countrymen; then the centre, composed of the knights in coats
of mail and the Swiss, was broken, and the army thereby
almost annihilated; the King himself was taken prisoner,
Peace was now inevitable, and Charles V., as victor,, was mi
a position to dictate the terms.
Charles was then at Madrid, and was so little prepared




RESULT OF- THE CAMPAIGN.             59
for victory that from every messenger he expected news
of defeat. He is said to have received the news of the
brilliant victory of Pavia with indescribable emotion; the
revulsion of feeling affected him deeply.
Thus the result of Charles's campaign was entirely different from what the world expected. At the beginning
of the contest there was a general opinion that Francis
would be the victor. The abilities of the chivalrous King
as a commander were greatly overrated, and the means
and talents of the youthful Emperor undervalued.  The
French had not one victorious day during the whole campaign, and the victor of Marignano was a prisoner in
Charles's camp.
The five years of war were very decisive for the position
of Charles: they, to a certain extent, gave him a place in
the world's opinion. It had before been said that he was
nothing but the heir of his forefathers; that opinion was
now changed. He had certainly had more good fortune than
he had shown personal prowess; but in the arrangement
of the whole, and in the selection of those under!,itn, he
had shown talents for which he had not before been given
credit. He was no longer the insignificant Burgundian
prince to whom birth and destiny had assigned an unmerited importance; he now really assumed the dignity of
a world-wide empire with which he had previously only
seemed to be invested by a strange caprice of fortune.
This campaign made a pause, during which the Reformation movement went on in peace, unmolested by any edict
of the Church or exercise of imperial power.




CHAPTER. V,'he Situation of Germany during the absence of Charles V.-Lutha
in the WVartburg.-The Translation of the Bible and its Signifi.
cance.-Luther and the Radicals at Wittenberg.-The Eight
Sermons against Carlstadt, March, I522.-Luther's cause before
the Imperial Chamber and the Diet of Nuremberg, I522-23.
-The Resolution of January 13th, I523.-The One Hundred
Gravamina.-The Decree about the Preaching of the Gospel.
GERMANY DURING THE ABSENCE OF CHARLES V.-LUTHER
IN  THE WARTBURG. — THE  TRANSLATION  OF THE
BIBLE AND ITS SIGNIFICANCE.
W HEN  Luther left Worms, before sentence was pronounced, he was seized by the vassals of Frederic
the Wise and taken to the Wartburg. In taking this precautionary measure, which Luther does not seem at first
to have understood, the Elector was providing against the
possibility of things coming to the worst. In the mood in
which Germany then was, Luther had in reality little to
fear; no one had any inclination to employ the temporal
power to enforce the Edict of Worms. If Luther could not
set foot in the enemy's country, he could remain at home
without danger. Nevertheless, it was prudent that he should
be withdrawn for a time from the eye-s of the world.
"Junker George" set himself, in the Wartburg, to a task
which was the most important of all his labours; he began
the translation of the Bible for the German people.
The idea of a translation into the vernacular was not a
new one. A considerable number of' German translations
of the Bible might be mentioned; they have all become
bibliographical curiosities, and nothing is known of their
influence upon the nation.  Luther's translation, on the
contrary, is a historical event, both for those who regarded




LUTHER'S TR1 NSLATION OF THE BIBLE.   6 I
the b)ook as their rule of faith, and for those whom it prevented from longer withholding it from the world.
The Lutheran translation has some special merits.  Not
that it is free from defects; not that critics, theological
and philosophical, have not pointed out a multitude of
errors in it —it would be sad if no progress had been made
beyond the point reached by Luther and his learned friends
by the researches of three hundred years-and yet we have
had no translation for three hundzed years which can even
dispute the palm with this one.
This is the result of its masterly language. There are
iome translations which are as much masterpieces as the
originals; a certain congeniality of mind and soul is necessary to reproduce the true tone and spirit of the original.
Such is Luther's translation of the Bible.
In order faithfully to reproduce the patriarchal simplicity,
the homely and childlike character of the Old and New
Testaments, to imitate the poetic strains of the prophets
and the Psalms, and again the popular straightforwardness
of the Gospels, requires a vein of congeniality-the spiritual
affinity of a mind which has preserved the simple and
honest originality of an unsophisticated people. This cannot
be acquired by all the learning in the world, though it may
easily be unlearned in the world and among books.
It was precisely these qualifications which Luther possessed. A genuine son of his own people, gifted with all
the wealth and depth of the German mind, he could enter
into that age of simple national faith; he made its spirit and
language his own, and thus acquired the power of translating
into German the religious-poetic and poetic-religious mode
of expression. This is nowhere more striking than in the
Psalms. Herder's translation is much more poetical, but
he sacrificed theology to poetry. Luther had a perfect conception of this part of his task.  "Now no fine courtly
werds," he wrote to Spalatin; "this book can only be
explained in a simple and popular style."
But Luther took incredible pains. Few of his readers
know by what hard work the task was accomplished.
We still have some of his translation in MS. He often
struck out a passage as many as fifteen times, until he
had found the right expression; and this when he was
wrestling with his own tongue. But what difficulties he
must have encountered in Greek and Hebrew, at a time




02      TlHE  REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
when the necessary precursors in the study of both were
wanting, and when Hebrew could mostly be learned only
from Jews! Then he was convinced that, as a monk and
a bookworm, he was unacquainted with many things
with which the ancient world was familiar; that he was
ignorant of many of the clues which he wanted, and which
could not be found in books. He once wrote to Spalatin
to ask for the names and descriptions of the precious stones
in Revelation'xxi. At another time, that he might be able
to describe the slaughter of beasts for sacrifice, he had
"some sheep killed for him " by a butcher, that he might
learn " what every part of a sheep was called."
The New Testament, which was finished in I523, was
comparatively easy; he found the Old far more difficult, and
it was not completed till ten years afterwards. He was
assisted by a whole consistory of learned men, who, as
Mathesius relates, "just like a private Sanhedrim, met for
several hours before supper every week in the doctor's
monastery." They were Dr. Johann Bugenhagen, Dr. Justus
Jonas, Dr. Cruziger, Philip Melancthon, Mattiius Aurogallas, George Rorer, and several rabbis. Luther once
wrote, when among this circle, "We are working very hard
to bring out the Prophets in the mother tongue. Good
God! what a great and difficult work it is to make the
Hebrew writers speak German! they resist it so, and are
not willing to give up their Hebrew existence and imitate
German barbarism."
The language used by Luther in both the Old and New
Testaments did not exist before in so pure, powerful, and
genuine a form. He was right when he once wrote, "I
have not yet read any book or letter in which the German
language is rightly used. Nobody takes the pains to write
German correctly."  The high German prose style had to
be created, and it was created by Luther's labours.
Up to this time Germany had a high and a low German
dialect. Like the Thuringian race from which he sprang,
Luther occupied the boundary-line between the two idioms;
the language that he used was neither high nor low German,
but a union of the two, forming a common third-the high
German as a written language. In his controversial writings
L-uther had already written German in so masterly a style
that it excited Hutten's lively admiration. Up to this time
it had been the opinion of the Humanists that you could




LUTHER'S TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE.   63
only thus express yourself in Greek and Latin.  Luther
taught them that German prose might be written which
was not put to shame by the languages of antiquity.
This new intellectual possession secured unity for us on
one point at least, at a time when our religious and political
unity came to an end, and we have preserved it through the
most unhappy period of our history.
It also involved a most important step in the progress of
modern Christendomn. The Scriptures were taken out of
the hands of a privileged priesthood, and given to the people
in a popular form intelligible to every man. The most
unnatural of the barriers between the Church and the people
was broken down, and the idea realised of the universal
priesthood of all. It was an irreparable breach in the old
order of things, and of this the opponents of the new tendencies were deeply sensible; but it was one of the most
blessed revolutions which has ever taken place in the world.
It was doubtless much more comfortable for the Church to
invent dogmas to be received by the faithful without doubt
or question; it was much pleasanter that there should be no
controversy or conflict of opinion, for thus a certain peace
and harmony was maintained.
But this state of things was come to an end. Amidst
storm and tempest a voice began to make itself heard which
was new to all, and by which many were awed. After the
seven seals of Revelation were loosed, and every man claimed
the right to interpret the Bible for himself, the masses began
to take an interest in the disputes of the learned, and a religious commotion stirred every rank of the people.* Not
all were chosen, though many were called; but the fact that
the exclusive interpretation of the Bible was taken out of
the hands of the Church was a stupendous event on which
too much stress cannot be laid, since even from the midst of
Protestantism the complaint is sometimes heard that the
golden age has passed away. It was hard for the scribes,
for they were deprived of their monopoly, but it was quite
in accordance with the spirit of a religion not intended for
* An enemy of Luther, Cocklaiis says: "' Mirum in modum multiplicabatur per chalcographos novum testamentum Lutheri, ut etiam
sutores et mulieres et quilibet idiotae qiui teutonicas literas uticunque
didicerant, novum illud testamentum tanquam fontem omnis veritatis
avidissime legerent quicunque Luthe-ani erant illudque saepe legendo
memoria. commendarent in sinu secum Dortantes codicem," &c,




64       THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
the scribes and Pharisees, but for those who labour and are
heavy-laden.
Finally, this work was a blessing for the national and
intellectual life of our people, whose greatness first became
evident in the succeeding centuries.
One is often tempted to ask how it is that our nation,
which ever since the sixteenth century has been subjected
to so many fearful commotions from within and from without, has still retained within it an indestructible germ of religious and moral national culture. It has not always been
found among the higher ranks of society, which have too
readily succumbed to foreign influences; but among the
lower classes it has been constantly kept alive; and neither
the devastations of the Thirty Years' War nor the flood of
foreign affectation in the succeeding generations could in
any way affect it.
This arose from the fact that no hut was too small, no
household too poor, to possess this book; that Luther's
Bible was not only a prayer-book and manual of devotion,
but a family reading-book; it was the intellectual world in
which the young people grew up, to which the old folks
recurred; a man inscribed in it his family history, the
memorials of his children; and the weary and heavy-laden
found consolation in it in times of trouble. The wars which
have made a huge burial-ground and a smoking ruin of our
beautiful land have not been able to exterminate the Bible:
it was the secure possession of the pith and marrow of the
nation when our learned men were again writing Latin, and
people of ctulture were speaking French.
For the preservation of our healthy national spirit this
book was more of a panacea than anything else, and it has
prevented foreign cankers or fashionable follies from ever
destroying it. It was from the simple homes of our country
pastors, our citizens and peasants, to whom Luther's Bible
was everything, that the reformers of our national life in
the eighteenth century went forth, and when they began to
purify our language from foreign additions, they recurred to
the inexhaustible philological treasures of this book; they
agreed with Lessing, that compared with its riches our
language is poor, and they found the keenest appreciation
not among the learned theologians of the old stamp, but in
circles where Luther's Bible had remained the Organon ever
since the sixteenth century. It was here that the depth and




LUTHER. AND THE RADICALS.              6.]
inwardness of the German character found satisfaction; it
also had an effect, though at second hand, upon our Romran
Catholic fellow-countrymen; and the other tendency of our
nation to the adoption and incorporation of foreign elements
found in this a perpetual and healthy counterpoise, which
hei Roma nic nations did not possess.
LUTHER AND THE RADICALS AT WIT TENBERG.
While Luther was busy ulpon the translation of the New
Iestament the Edict of Worms was waiting in vain to be
enforced. He was even then aiming a bolt at the most
sensitive part of the ruling Church: what " Junker George "
was doing under the Elector's protection looked like utter
defiance of the angry glances of Pope and Emperor.
In the midst of his studies news arrived which summoned
him once more into the arena, but this time to face different foes from  those with whom  he had measured his
strength before.
Out of the commotion which he had stirred up, another
school of reformers had arisen who went much further than
he did, for whom his proceedings were not thorough, nor
his programme decisive enough.'Their opinion was that
all tradition should at once be set aside, and everything
not expressly enjoined in the Bible summarily abolished.
Away then with images of saints and crucifixes; away with
the mass, priests' vestments, confession, and the host; away
with fasts and ceremonies, and the idolatry of church decorations i
At the head of these turbulent reformers stood Carlstadt,
whose teaching had already betrayed a tendency to reckless
innovation, and who now, instigated by the zealots of
Zurich, and no longer kept within bounds by Luther, proclaimed his doctrines more and more openly.
A certain consistency cannot be denied to these radicals.
In times of commotion it has always been difficult to draw
the line where disavowal and destruction are to end, and
toleration and reconstruction to begin. But Luther, notwithstanding the vehemence of his character, was not the
man to go to aimless extremes, which arose from a legislative
instinct, one of his peculiar gifts. He well knew how easy
ie apparently is to strike a decisive blow at a declining
relgion, but that a reaction is inevitable, which will extend
5




66      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
much further than the short-sighted zealot imagines, and he
never forgot how much there is that is great and eternal in
the structure of the Roman Catholic Church, which ought
to predispose a thoughtful man to caution. He fully recognised the value of adherence to the existing historical
institution: the least which he asked for tradition, even
when it appeared to him to have but little meaning, was
the same liberty that he craved for himself and his teaching.
"There are many things," he said, "which an individual
may do or leave undone. When they are imposed as laws
from without I reject them, but I equally reject their pro.
hibition. He who likes to confess is at liberty to do so.
To me personally, auricular confession has often been a real
relief to the conscience, but I do not wish that the Church
should enjoin it."
He mentions several other such points of indifference
(&Aaaqbopa): whether the Lord's Supper should be received in
both forms, whether it is right to stay in a monastery, to have
pictures in churches, to observe fasts,-all these appeared to
him to be non-essentials of the faith; he gives neither command nor prohibition about them, and his views contain the
germ of true liberty of conscience and mental freedom.
From this stand-point he could not but disapprove the
doings of the Wittenberg iconoclasts. He wrote to them
in December, 152,* "Now this business has been under.
taken in a harum-scarum fashion, with great rashness and
violence. I do not like it at all, and that you may know it,
when it comes to the point, I will not stand by you in this
business. You have set about it without me, and so you
may see how you can get out of it without me. Believe me,
I know the devil well enough; it is he alone that has set
about it to bring disgrace on the Word."
But such admonitions were svain. Luther could no longer
stand it in the Wartburg; in spite of the ban of the Church
or imperial edict, he felt compelled to go forth, and when
his Elector warned him of the neighbouring Duke George
and begged him not to go beyond the boundaries of the
electorate, Luther wrote back, "One thing I can say for
myself, if things at Leipzig were as they are at Wittenberg,
I would still go there, even if it rained Duke Georges for
nine days, and every one of them were nine times as fierce
* The whole letter is in the Erlangen edition.




LUTHER AND THE RADICALS.              67
as he. Therefore be it written to your Electoral Highness,
though your Electoral Highness knows it very well, that I
go to Wittenberg under much higher protection than that of
the Elector. I therefore have no intention of asking pro.
tection of your Electoral' Highness; no sword will or can
afford this cause help or counsel; God alone can prosper it
without human aid or care. He therefore who has the
most faith will be the most protected by it. Now as 1 perceive that your Electoral Highness is still very weak in
faith, I cannot by any means regard your Electoral Highness as the man who can protect or save me."
On the 3rd of March, 1522, he escaped from his asylum,
and with a sword by his side, and in Junker George's
doublet, he arrived at Wittenberg, determined valiantly to
oppose the disturbers of the peace.
For eight consecutive days he preached against Carlstadt
and the fanatics of Zwickau, and his eight sermons contain
a most important memorial of the genuine spirit of Luther.
He proceeded with wonderful tact; he did not mention any
of his opponents by name; not an abusive word escaped
him; his language was most skilfully adapted to convert
misguided followers and to restrain excess of zeal.
These sermons contain golden words. Among other
things he says, "We must have charity, and from charity
do for one another what God has done for us by faith;
without charity faith is nothing. Now, dear friends, on
this point you have failed almost entirely: I cannot trace a
spark of charity in any one of you. I observe that you
know very well how to talk about the doctrine that is
preached to you, which is no marvel,-an ass may almost
be taught to sing,-but the kingdom of God is not in sermons or in words, but in deeds and in power. Finally, we
must have patience. In this life every one must not do
what he has a right to do, but must forego his rights and
consider what is useful and advantageous to his brother.
Do not make a'must be' out of a'may be,' as you have
now been doing, that you may not have to answer for those
whom you have misled by your uncharitable liberty."
Against any compulsion in religious matters he speaks
most decidedly:"The Word created heaven and earth and all things,
the same Word must also create now, and not we poor
sinners. Summa summarum, I will preach it, I will talk of




68      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
it, I will write about it, but I will not use force or comr
pulsion with any one; for faith must be of free will, and
unconstrained, and must be accepted without compulsion.
To marry, to do away with images, to become monks ot
nuns, for monks and nuns to leave their convents, to eat
meat on Friday, or not to eat it, and other like things,-all
these things are open questions, and should not be forbidden by any man; if they are forbidden it is wrong. If
thou canst do these things without burdening thy conscience, continue to do them, but if not, forbear, lest a
heavier burden come upon thee."  " If we reject everything that is abused, we shall have to play a strange game.
There are people who worship the sun, moon, and stars:
shall we therefore fall to and cast the stars from heaven,
and hurl the sun and moon from their places? We may as
well leave it alone. Wine and women bring many to grief,
make fools and madmen of them: shall we therefore pour
away all the wine, and put the women to death? Ah, if we
want to be rid of our worst enemy, who does us more harm
than any one else, we must get rid of and slay ourselves,
for we have no worse enemy than our own hearts."
And these sensible words were not spoken to the air;
the leaders, indeed, were not converted, but their followers
fell off, and peace was restored.
THE LUTHERAN CAUSE BEFORE THE IMPERIAL CHAMBER
AND THE DIET OF NUREMBERG, I52I-23.
It would have been all the same for Germany if the Edict
of Worms had not been pronounced, for nothing like the
execution of it worth mentioning occurred anywhere. In
some cases this arose from sympathy with the new doctrines;
in others, from impotence, and a feeling that more active
interference would only increase the evil.
ThI3u the Elector of Mayence, the Primate of Germany,
would not allow the order of Minorites even to preach
against Luther, because he was convinced that it would only
feed the flame of heresy.
Luther's books, as well as his followers, were to have
been annihil: ted with fire or sword; but, instead of this,
they were spread far and wide. All the literature of the
period, with very little exception, takes the Lutheran side.
Finally, the outlaw ventured out of his hiding-place into the




THE IMPERIAL CHAMBER.                X
world again; and we do not find that it was ever suggested
to the Elector to recapture and punish him.
The secret cause of that suspicious manceuvre which had
been found necessary to obtain the Edict of Worms at-alla distrust of the sentiments of the influential classes-now
received a striking confirmation.
The new Imperial Chamber, in which the German States
ruled in place of the absent Emperor, only represented the
prevailing sentiments of the people, by not only not persecuting Luther, but by increasingly adopting his cause, and
by in fact, though not in words, revoking the edict of I52 1.
The new pope, Adrian VI. (January, 152 2-September,
I523), regarded the abuses in the Church with the eye of a
strictly moral monk; yet, as an orthodox Dominican, he
abhorred Luther's proceedings, and sent a Nuncio to Germany to demand, as he certainly was entitled to do, the
execution of the ban pronounced at Worms. But the Committee of the Imperial Chamber declined'to comply, because
they did not wish it to appear " as if they would put down
evangelical truth by tyranny, and maintain unchristian
abuses, which would only result in resistance to the rulers,
insurrection, and defection." They reminded the Pope of
the ancient concordats with Germany, so often infringed,
and demanded, within the course of a year, the convocation
of an open council, in which laymen should have seats and
a voice, and the creed should be an openquestion. The
document drawn up on this subject is one of the most
valuable of the period.'  This proposal to the Nuncio
shows what a luxurious harvest had sprung up from the
papal policy since the Councils of Pisa, Costnitz, and Basle.
It was the voice of the nation, not merely of a party.
In the first answer of the Imperial Chamber it is stated
in a decided tone why neither the ban of the Church nor
the imperial edict had been executed, nor was likely to be
so. The great majority of the people were convinced that
the Roman Curia, by certain abuses, grievously injured the
German nation; and disturbances and civil war had been
the result whenever the attempt had been made to defend
these abuses by force.
The rejoinder of the Papal Legate was followed by the
hundred Gravamina. A hundred was a round number. It
e Goldast




70      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
is expressly stated at the end that more could have been
adduced, and that it was only for the sake of conciseness.that they had limited themselves to these, with the expectation that when those specified were done away, some of the
others would go with them.
The subjects of complaint were the following:-Dispensations, indulgences, and the sale of them; legal abuses,
delegates, and commissioners; the administration of offices
from Rome; the reforms, commendams, incorporations,
annats, abuse of bans and interdicts; the excessive number
of festivals, illegal acquisition of property, arbitrary grants
of benefices, pilgrimages, unreasonable demands of money,
new tithes; the decision of secular questions, especially the
disputes about marriage, by ecclesiastical courts; "the
toleration of illicit cohabitation, and usury for the sake of
gain;" unreasonable rates of interest and wages; the withholding of the sacraments, the unclerical conduct of the
clergy, legacy hunting, the mendicant orders, &c.
They conclude with a threat that in case no attention is
paid to these complaints, they will take the matter into their
own hands: " If these things are not speedily abolished,
which, however, the temporal powers do not expect, they
will not conceal from your Holiness that they can no longer
submit to such intolerable and pernicious grievances, but
will be under the necessity of themselves finding some other
ways and means of putting an end to, and being relieved
from, such impositions and oppressions from the clergy."
In I521 the Hapsburg policy had come to an agreement
with the Pope at Worms against Luther. Two years later,
at Nuremberg, the nation declared for the unconditional
accomplishment of reform of the faith and of the Church.
The Papal Legate had to renounce all idea of accomplishing anything with this Diet by negotiation, although the
Emperor's representative, Ferdinand, was on his side. The
voices of the secular and ecclesiastical states, of the moderate
and extreme parties, were not, indeed, unanimous upon particular questions; but, on the whole, the Diet presented a
compact phalanx to withstand Rome; and that it was so
was rendered quite evident by the fact that the final resolution about preaching was only passed by way of comrn.
promise.
It was decided that nothing should be preached but
veturn purum, sincerum d sanctum evangelium, and indeed




THE DIET OF NUREMBERG.                71
pie tansuete Christiane, in accordance with the teaching
and interpretations of well-known works approved by the
Church. The decree was sufficiently strong against* Rome,
and sufficiently liberal for the party of the new tendencies;
it was calculated to satisfy them, yet their opponents could
not reject it.
The Edict of Worms was thereby reversed; the condemnation of Luther and his followers retracted; the sword
of the secular power which had been hanging over him was
withdrawn, and free scope given to his propaganda. This
propaganda would have made much more rapid progress
than it did make if obstacles had not presented themselves,
which were so much the more dangerous because closely
connected with the moving causes of the Reformation.
Revolution attached itself to the wheels of the car of
Refeomn and effectually hindered its pregres




CHAPTER V.
Reform and Revolution.-The Nobles of the ELEmpire —Uicll'irsi
Hutten, I488-1523. —Franz von Sickingen, the Feud of 525,
and the Catastrophe of I523.-Reaction upon the Reformation. —
Activity of the Curia.-Adrian VI., January, 1522, to Septenmber,
1523. - Clement VII., September, $534. — The Convention of
Ratisbon, July, r524.
ULRICH VON HUTTEN,* 1488-15 23.
\\/V II AT Luther was for the religious, Hutten was for the
Humanistic aspect of the opposition of the sixteenth
century, —the man of action who took the initiative in con.trast to the many congenial spirits whose hearts were full of
symp)athy, but who were not men of independent enterprise.
But while Luther was the advocate of reform, Hutten was
the leader of political and social revolution; while Luther
gives the impression of ripe experience and maturity, Hutten represents the impetuosity and fire of passionate youth,
of one who had not come out of solitary conflicts in a
convent, but who had early taken part in the struggles of
the age in the world's arena.
Theirs are, indeed, two remarkable careers, for a long
time running parallel without coming into contact: the son
of the Thuringian miner, who, from the meanest circumstances, rises to be the leader of the greater part of the
deeply agitated nation, and has a voice amongst rulers on
questions affecting their fate; and the scion of a most
ancient race of nobles, who descends from his father's castle,
exchanges the sword of chivalry for the citizen's pen, and
after passing through strange vicissitudes, is engulfed in the
stream of the German revolution.
The German nobles hated the new order of things in all
its aspects; not so much the Reformation as that which
UTeich von Hutten, -on D. Strauss.




ULRICH VON. HUTTEN.                73
gave it so great an impetus-the increasing power of the
reigning princes, the growing prosperity of the cities, the
preponderating influence of money and trade. All this was
utterly distasteful to the old free hereditary proprietors of
the soil. The same need which made them waylay travellers and commit highway robberies made them hate the
modern system of administration with a deadly hatred, for
it brought peace, and aimed at extinguishing feuds. Everything that was regarded as intolerable by this modern system
involved something essential to the very existence of chivalry.
It was a misfortune for Germany that there was no natural
and healthy position for the nobles in the State, but the
nobles were greatly mistaken in imagining that they could
regain their supremacy by blindly struggling against the new
order of things-it could but hasten their downfall. The
modern system made its way in the world, and crushed
whatever came in its way.
Ulrich von Hutten did not belong to the nobles of this
sort. It was his conviction that the order of the nobility,
as then constituted, was no longer capable of achieving
anything-that it must learn the use of modern weapons.
He himself tried to gain a position in the world by his pen
and his talents rather than by his sword; and he wished
for his order to secure a place at the head of the new ideas.
In alliance with the citizens and the peasantry embracing
the project of national and religious reform, it should lead
the struggle which aimed to free the nation from the opDres.
sion of temporal and ecclesiastical rulers, whether German
or foreign.
The embitterment which we find among the other imperial
nobles had, in his case, cleared off into a certain far-seeing
conception of the position of affairs in his country. Sorrow
for the melancholy fate of his order did not induce in his
mind a blind hatred of the new powers, but a deeper insight into its causes.
His personal position almost led him to take these views.
The glorious old race of the Huttens was dispersed, separated, and their property was fallen into confusion. They
had become poor, and their traditions and claims to consideration were in curious contrast to their possessions and
actual importance.
Ulrich von Hutten was born on the 21st of April, 1488,
at the Castle of Stackelburg. As the boy grew up, either




74      IHE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
some pious vow or an idea that he was wanting in stamina,
occasioned by his delicate appearance, caused his father to
destine him for the Church. This was often the vocation
of younger sons, though not of the first-born. It was an in.
tervention of fate in young Hutten's life, and was favourable
to his early inclination to strike out a new career for himself. He went as a pupil to the monastery of Fulda —not
to become a monk, but only to have the benefit of the
teaching of the brothers as a layman. He resolutely withstood all attempts to induce him to enter the order.
He learnt many things there to which he would otherwise
have long remained a stranger, and laid the foundations of
the solid classical culture in which he early distinguished
himself. But this was all that attached him to the monastic
walls of Fulda.
When he gladly turned his back upon the profession of
arms, the foundation was laid of an aspiring energy which
could find no satisfaction amongst troopers and dogs,
plunder and the chase. Desiring to pursue a course which
he could not take in his father's castle, he renounced the
traditions of his race; but he had no intention of passing
his life in a monastic cell. He wanted to go out into the
world, to visit the universities where the modern Humanistic
tendencies were most eagerly fostered; but his father did
not approve. He was a noble of the old school, and thought
it a disgrace that a son of his house should set his heart
upon such idle trifling, while he looked upon the ecclesiastical vocation as a solid mainternance-nothing more nor
less.
The monks, discerning his talents, tried by intimidation
to secure him for their order; the friends he had made outside the convent advised him against entering it. Of this
his father knew nothing; and so Hutten, then a youth of
sixteen or seventeen, resolved on flight.
About I504 or 1505 he left Fulda, and went forth homeless and penniless into the wide world. About the same
time Luther was quitting the world and entering a monastery in order to clear up his doubts. No doubts had ever
assailed Hutten. What he wanted was to be up and doing;
to have free scope for his energies; and nowhere could he
find so little as in a monastery.
But evil days were in store for the fugitive.
We have no precise knowledge of the places he visited




ULRICH VON HUTTEN.                  75
he went through various countries as a wandering 3tu(lent.
We find him at Cologne, Erfurt, Frankfort-on-the-Oder,
Greifswald, Wittenberg, Olmiitz, and Vienna; and when
we learn anything of his circumstances, they are of the most.wretched kind. In many places he was entered as Clericus
Fuldensis, perhaps because, in this character, he could live
more simply, and more easily find bare subsistence, than if
he gave himself out as a distinguished noble. Youth did
not present itself to him under a very cheerful aspect. Indeed, to him, as well as to Luther, it was a hard and
joyless period.  Both the great spirits of the age had to be
prepared by suffering for the warfare that awaited them.
HIe met with every disaster that can befall a man-hunger,
nakedness, sickness, and every kind of deprivation; false
friends who took him up, and then cast him off; capture by
robbers, who compe!led him to drag himself, ill and half
naked, from one place to another.  Thus, after his flight
from Fulda, his fate was not unlike that of knights-errant
of that age; but with this difference-that while they were
often left lying by the wayside to come to an ignominious
end, he always rose up again with fresh spirit and courage.
It was his astonishing zeal for learning that sustained him.
Amidst all the depressing influences of his outward life, his
intellectual powers never failed him; and, with the indlestructible enthusiasm of his youthful spirit, he more
nearly approached the Humanistic ideal than any other
man of his time.
The ancient classics incited him to independence and
originality. He had a keen and superior mind, with abundant natural creative talent, and he was perfect master of
the elegant grace of the classic style. That which cost
others great labour to produce, flowed from his lips and pen
with perfect ease. His was a poetic nature, and we can but
regret that he hampered himself with a foreign tongue and
foreign forms. But it was then the object of the highest
ambition to be an accomplished Latin poet-the mothertongue was not as yet held in honour.
When he entered his twentieth year he knew Germany
well. He had made the round of the universities at the
great cities, and was attracted to Italy, impelled by the
Humanist home-sickness of the pupil of antiquity, and enthusiasm for the birthplace of the culture of the Renaissance.
This was at the time of the Venetian war, when Italy wax




76      THE REFORMATION IN GERMA.NY
less attractive than ever to such dilettante travellers. Iut.
ten went into the tumult of war, entered the imperial army
at Pavia, thus returning to his calling as a knight; and
he did his duty valiantly, though without any mental satisfaction. He wrote epigrams and satires in camp, in elegant
Latin verse. What is noteworthy is, that he begins to break
away from the rigid forms of ancient mythology; to cast off
the tinsel of a foreign garb, and to take a keen interest in the
present. He treats of the course of the war and the Italian
policy, and lashes the shameless traffic in indulgences and
bulls by Pope Julius II. This constitutes an es!sential difference between him and the rest of the Humanistic school,
who kept their readers in the misty and colourless region of
Mars, Ceres, and the Muses, as in a barren waste. He acquired fame even in Italy; the charming elegance and extraordinary finish of his verses were much admired. No
one would have given a heavy German barbarian credit
for so much skill.
This sort of light literature was much encouraged in Italy.
Hutten made a name for himself-it was his first triumph
after his dreary wanderings; it was to his own pen and his
own talent that he owed it, and he might well be proud of
it. But this by no means satisfied him; he was pursued by
the feeling of an inward void, which could not be filled by
poetic fame. He returned to Germany. At the paternal
castle they would have nothing to do with him-to them he
was a "nameless nobody;" but at the court of Mayence
he found an honourable reception as a talented poet and
Latin scholar. Hutten, like others of the Humanistic school,
had an idea of making a career for himself at the courts of
princely patrons of arts and in the abodes of wealth. Impelled by necessity, he did occasionally follow this course,
but without any inward satisfaction.
While seeking health at Ems, news reached him of a
fearful event which had occurred in the family (i 55).
Duke Ulrich of Wiirtemberg, already at variance with his
subjects and neighbours, was also involved in a personal
quarrel, which now caused a sad catastrophe. He murdered
Hans von Hutten like a bandit in a wood. The deed was
quite in accordance with his wild and lawless character
and it was his own conduct which had brought the difficulties
upon him which now hedged him in on every side. The
HWltten family was powerful enough to unite the neighbouring




ULRICH VON HUTTEN.                  77
families to execute vengeanc2 on the Duke, and to incite
the Emperor and the empire to take up its cause.
Ulrich von Hutten wrote a number of addresses on the
occasion, which produced a great impression. These philip.
pics against Duke Ulrich are entirely in the style of the
Humanistic school. They are elegant compositions, evidently
formed upon the models of Cicero and Demosthenes, and
you feel that the author's main' object is to show how successfully a German can write in this style. But, at the same
time, beneath these artistic periods there is the glowing
enthusiasm of a soul pining for freedom, a deep pathos and
consuming passion.  It was felt that the writer was no
common man, that he took the Duke for his subject-because
a subject he must have-that he was not merely a poet, a
Humanist of the common stamp, but an orator and an
agitator.
These addresses greatly increased his fame; they made
the war against Duke Ulrich popular; every class of persons had a grievance, and for a long time the Duke's cause
was lost. Then this eloquence, this wonderful art of writing
impressively on the topics of the day in antique forms and
fine sonorous periods,-it was something quite novel.
After this feud we again find Hutten in Italy. While his
father was hoping that he would at length diligently study
the law, he was completing his classical studies; and, instead of bringing with him the degree of Doctor of Laws, on
the 1 2th of July, 1 517, he received from the Emperor Max at
Augsburg, in presence of the whole court, the laurel crown
as the greatest poet of Germany. We have testimony from
Italy, England, and France, with what envy and admiration
the poet was regarded.
Having reached this lofty height, one aspect of his life
closes; he was now to enter upon a new career. DI)uring
his residence in Italy the contest between Reuchlin and the
Dominicans had broken out, in which the German Humanists
first appear in compact phalanx. He received the first series
of the EpistulZe Obscurorum Virorumz at Bologna in September, I5 6. They pleased him greatly, for he found a congenial spirit in them. He had not contributed to the first
series, but the second is enriched by him." He took a keen
* If, as is supposed, the letters dated from Rome are his, they indi.
cate that he was less skilled in the use of the light weapons of deri.
sire satire than in wielding:he heavy guns of passionate invective.




78      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
interest in all Humanist affairs, was in close intimacy with
Reuchlin, and defended him against the Grand Inquisitor
and monastic scholasticism. But he was still a stranger to
all the other great movements of the age. When Luther
first appeared on the stage of the world, and affixed his
ninety-five Theses to the church door at Wittenberg; when
an agitation was arising, compared with which the affair with
the men of Cologne was a harmless jest, Hutten was simply
conscious of being the crowned Latin poet; and when
Tetzel and Eck attacked Luther, he wrote a letter full of
malicious pleasure that the monks should be tearing each
other's hair. He was still the distinguished knight, doubly
ennobled by his talents and acquirements. One man in a
crowd was to him the same as another, and their disputes
were but a subject for his passing derision. He was altogether a stranger to Christianity: to the Humanists, classic
culture was religion.
When Luther had the memorable dispute with Cajetan in.5r8, Hutten was also at Augsburg under the care of a
physician; but he neither sought out Luther nor took any
account of the fact that he was there.
But it was not in vain that Hutten had been in Italy;
not the Humanist only, but the patriot also had learnt
lessons there. He had felt with burning shame the ignominy
of the foreign Italian yoke, the decline of the German
empire. The contempt of the foreigner for the nation that
had once ruled the world cut him to the heart. Even in
the Venetian war he had made a glowing appeal to the
Emperor Max to place himself at the head of the nation;
to inaugurate a regeneration of this great people, which would
make it once more united and powerful. Max listened to
appeals of this sort with a gracious smile, but he was too old,
and his heart too cold to be kindled by them. Charles V., a
young emperor, with splendid patrimonial power, seemed to
be the man to remodel the world. The old imperial reininiscences, the glory of the German name, urged Hutten
to make a similar appeal to him; but he was still less disposed than Max to be influenced by the enthusiastic dreams
of youth. Meanwhile, the power of the reform movement
was increasing; the tide was rising higher and higher.
Such men as Crotus Rubianus excelled him in the formei, but it did
not go so deep, as the subsequent falling off of this great satirist prores.




ULRICH VON HUTTEN.                79
Fromn Luther's writings Hutten derived a new idea of the
man and his cause, and learned that a German could move
men's hearts in his own tongue, that its sonorous tones
produced an effect far greater than laboured imitations of
the scholars of antiquity, and that a great mind would not
degrade itself by following such an example.
It was plain that this simple monk was beginning to move
the masses, to set the nation in a novel ferment, and among
the people the influence of the learned had been very
moderate. A new spirit was stirring, which, though not at
enmity with that of the Humanists, took quite another form.
Upon no one did all this make a deeper impression than
upon Hutten. With all his poetic fame, he bowed down before
this despised monk, who had dared to do what no one else
had done, and who could handle his own language so dexterously. He had never been able to think without shame
that a German emperor should humble himself before the
Roman Curia, and here was a monk burning the papal bull.
He was quite excited by the daring deed; he saw that all
his poetic fame, all his poems and fine speeches were
nothing in comparison with what had been accomplished by
the Wittenberg monk, and an entire change took place in
him. He gave up the office of poet-laureate, renounced the
pride of his Latin muse, and began to write German. His
opposition to the Church of Rome had begun early. He
had said cutting things of Rome in his verses written in
Italy.
The day before he set out on his return to Germany the
second time, he made acquaintance with a rare work by
Laurentius Valla, an enlightened Italian patriot, an eminent
statesman, and the accomplished translator of many of the
Greek classics. It was the work on the " Gift of Constantine " (De Dona/lione Conslanzilzi). Valla wrote at a time
when educated men were already alienated from the
Church; but few had the courage resolutely to make researches into her pious frauds; and therefore a number of
ecclesiastical archives, relating to the reputed gift of the
States of the Church by Constantine, were held to be indisputably genuine documents. It was a significant event when
a distinguished author ventured for the first time to attack
the Pope's temporal power. Hutten adapted this work for
Germany, endeavoured to circulate it, and to give it fresh
effect against Rome-a purpose the animosity of whi-' h was




80      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
not lessened by the fact that he dedicated the book to
Leo X.
He now attained to a comprehension of what Luther was,
and what he was aiming at; and the change took place
which converted Hutten to his own nation. He had hitherto
only exercised himself in the field for which his tastes and
talents especially fitted him.  He now no longer wrote
satirical dialogues, but fierce invectives, in which he dis.
charged whole quivers full of arrows. He no longer addressed
himself in a foreign tongue to the cultivated classes, who
had hitherto to a certain extent admitted and deplored the
evils of the times among themselves; he addressed the
nation, the nobles, the knights, the cities, the peasantry,
every one who grumbled at the old order of things, and was
disposed at any cost to put an end to it.
He prepared to join the new movement, which, however,
he regarded only as a means to an end; for he was a
stranger to the theological ideas of the Reformation. It
served as a lever for political and social aims which went
far beyond those of Luther. Hutten advocates taking the
law into their own hands, while Luther maintains that "rebellion will do no good." But it was not only that Luther
repudiated these means of obtaining political reform; he
was averse to the end, for he was convinced that the two
objects are essentially distinct, and cannot be forcibly joined
together.  He often said to the hot-headed politicians,
"You will not attain your own object, and you will ruin
mine. Such things cannot be taken in hand at the same
time.  It is enough for me to accomplish the religious
revolution. By such a rebellion as you want to excite, you
may attain great results for the moment, but they will not
be lasting."
It was on men's minds and consciences that Luther
wished to work; Hutten appealed to their passions. Luther
was constantly repeating, " I will talk, write, and preach
about it;" but anything that went beyond that appeared to
him to be mischievous.
After 1520 Hutten and Luther were seemingly pursuing
the same course; but it was only seemingly, for there
was a contrast between them which could not long be
concealed.
Thus it was that Hutter. was led into an arena from which
he had hitherto kept aloof, but in which le seemed born to




FRANZ VON SICKINGEN.               81
rule; for he possessed rare gifts as a popular agitator, and,
by his genuine eloquence, knew how to move men's minds
to their very depths. He had also a peculiar vein of satire.
his little dialogues are masterpieces, as well as his popula,
poems, such as the " Lamentation over, and Warning against,
the Unchristian Power of the Pope, and the Unholy Men in
Holy Orders," which appeared in December, I520; and in
which the abuses in the Church, the disgraceful rule ol
Italian courtesans, all that for more than a century had sc
deeply embittered the nation, was expressed in almost
doggerel rhyme, bound up as it were as a quiver full of
arrows, and flung at Rome.
Then came the Diet of Worms. There it was manifesi
that even among his own class Hutten was not alone in his
views. The nobles of the empire regarded Luther with
interest and good-will. His bearing especially excited their
sympathies. Sickingen offered him a safe retreat in one of
his castles. This was just at that time a fact full of significance, for it was not then known that not a man would
be found in Germany to carry out the imperial edict.
Hutten was already intimate with Sickingen; he had
made him acquainted with Luther's mind and writings at
the Ebernburg in the winter of 1520-21.
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN AND THE FEUD OF I522-23.
The character of Franz von Sickingen was entirely different from that of his young friend; but, like him, he was
one of the most notable representatives of sharply defined
tendencies. He did not belong to the literary school in
which Hutten had early distinguished himself; he was preeminently a cavalier. He was not so much averse to study,
as so many of his class were, as indifferent and unaccustomed
to it. Neither had his religious views any very definite
character.  It was somewhat difficult to interest him in the
pressing questions of the day. This was undertaken by
Hutten. He, no doubt, approached him on the side of his
national sensibilities, which was the best way of gaining
him for the cause. He submitted in his old age to the new
teaching of the purified gospel, took the communion in both
kinds, and allowed the teachers of the Lutheran doctrines to
preach and hold services in his domains. Not only the
Ebernburg, but all the country belonging to it between the
6




82      THE REFORMATICN IN GERMANY.
Rhine, the Nahe. and the Neckar, was a " refuge feo
righteousness."
The mere possibility of so exceptional a position as that
occupied by Sickingen in the German empire proves the
unusual and contradictory nature of the elements existing at
that time in Germany. He was undoubtedly the last of the
German knights who held such a position.
He had early devoted himself to the profession of arms,
had become not only an expert and gallant swordsman, but
possessed extraordinary talents for organization, which enabled him to manage the rabble; and it implied a good deal
of talent to make anything harmonious out of this motley
material.
Out of German soldiers, wild young fellows of every sort
and the scattered members of noble families, he formed the
best armies of the day: there was a motley crew of infantry
who had rifles and pieces of ordnance, and the mailed
cavalry whose mode of warfare was a relic of medirevalism.
Sickingen stood on the boundary-line between two periods,
and belonged to both. He was a knight of the empire, and
all the Rhenish nobles were closely bound to him: a call
from him summoned them all to arms. Yet he was at the
same time a modern soldier, the commander of a paid army
with modern weapons, which he organized on modern
principles and according to the system of modern tactiis.
What Wallenstein afterwards was on a large scale,
Sickingen was on a smaller one. His call to arms attracted all whom taste or habit inclined for war to fight
beneath his banners.
In those times of scarcity of money, when there was no
longer a national call to arms and the modern system of
recruiting did not exist, a man who maintained and headed
such an army was a valuable ally to any prince. When the
Emperor had a war in prospect he dispatched a messenger
to the Ebernburg to obtain Sickingen's aid, and to avail
himself of his credit with the knights and their retainers.
Maximilian I. well knew how to uphold him; he acknowledged'his services and distinguished him, so that in spite
of the smallness of his territory he was an important political
factor; and so widespread was his reputation, that France
offered him tons of money to fight on her side.
For the rest there were many points in Sickingen's
character which belongL,.d to the gmnuine knight of those




FRANZ VON SICKINGEN.                83
days. Hle hated the rule ff the princes, justly feeling that
the nobles would be gradually absorbed in their supremacy;
neither could he endure the cities with the power conferred
by their movable capital, their immense wealth, and the
contempt with which they looked down on the pride of the
poverty-stricken nobles.
Still he had too much good sense not to come to terms,
as circumstances required it, even with these factors.
He also hated the freebooting exploits of the knights
who infested the highways, and deliberately broke the
newly made treaty of peace (Landfriede). Not that he
had not often broken it himself, but then it was in open
feuds between one power and another.
Combined with his outward-bound and worldly tastes
there was yet something about Sickingen which recalled
Hutten to mind; a certain halo of romance which still
encircled the brows of the best representatives of the
nobility, and which was derived from the glory of the Holy
Roman Empire. With this man Hutten allied himself, the
highly cultivated idealist with the matter-of-fact realist. It
was a singular alliance: one was the greatest popular author
whom, next to Luther, Germany had produced; the other,
the greatest soldier of the age, a true German knight, who
could assemble ten thousand men under his banners, for
whose favour the great powers eagerly sued, and who boasted
that he had turned away the French ambassadors who
brought gold to the election of the Emperor, when his
neighbours, spiritual and temporal, had received them with
open arms. It was obvious that this alliance must have
other objects than to promote the preaching of the pure
gospel. Not that either of them was indifferent to this
great question of the day.  They advanced the cause
zealously in their own fashion, but only as means to an
end. We often find a parallel between the purposes of this
alliance and the objects and doings of the Hussites: they
threw off the yoke of the Church in spite of the Emperor
and empire, and why should not we? The following points
formed the groundwork of their programme, in which
national, moral, economical, and ecclesiastical elements
were all mingled together: the restoration of order, that is,
of the ancient liberties of the empire, with the Emnperor at
the head and the nobles by his side; abolition of mercantile
monopolies; abrogation of foreign laws and dismissal of




84      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
foreign administrators of the law; diminution of the riumbel
of ecclesiastics and monks; the enaction of laws against
foreign manners; cessation of the drain of German money
by the Fuggers and other bankers for indulgences and
other Church taxes imposed upon Germany by Rome.
The Emperor was absent, and the many-headed Imperial
Chamber reigned in his stead. It was a well-disposed
government, but it wanted monarchical power and the means
of keeping the peace, even in its own immediate neighbourhood, and therefore the time seemed adapted for a great
undertaking.
In the spring of 1522, Sickingen, like a lord and master
as he was of the nobles of the Upper Rhine, summoned
them to Landau and conferred with them as to what was to
be done. They formed themselves into a league of brotherhood, and bound themselves, with Sickingen at their head,
to resist the encroachments of the reigning princes. There
were branches of the league throughout the Palatinate, the
provinces of the Upper and Middle Rhine, to the Taunus,
and probably extending to Swabia. As leaders, besides
Sickingen and Hutten, we find Hartmuth von Kronenberg;
and there is a letter of Sickingen's of this year which
appeals to the free German cities to enter into the league
with the nobles to rebel against the princes.
Sickingen's first enterprise in this year was the occasion
of a widespread commotion. One of his neighbours was
the Archbishop of Treves, with whom Sickingen had had
various transactions, and whose post just now was a difficult one. He was strongly opposed to the Reformation,
but there was an active religious movement going on in the
city. From this place Caspar Olevian afterwards came, who
was one of the originators of the new doctrines and of the
Heidelberg Catechism. The reform movement here also
was combined with discontent with the ecclesiastical
government.
Sickingen was aware of all this, and laid his plans so as
to take advantage of the strife. His plan was to attack
Treves, to take possession of it, to put his party at the
nelm, an(- establish the new doctrines. If he succeeded,
he would with one -blow make hin self master of an im.
portant part of the imperial territory, and his position would
be doubly strong from the triumph it would furnish to thr
great reform movement.




FRANZ VON SICKINGEN.                85
Sickingen thought it would be an easy task to conquer
Richard Greiffenklau of Treves, and had no fear but that
he could obtain succour.  Richard's old patron in the
Palatinate, Albrecht of Mayence, would, he thought, at any
rate remain neutral; he had always been a time-server, and
would not risk much to aid his colleague. The foarth
Rhenish Elector, Hermann von Wied, had always been
indifferent to worldly affairs, and was not, like Richard von
Greiffenklau, a mounted priest; he cared nothing for politics,
and was exclusively devoted to ecclesiastical pursuits. It
was he Who astonished the empire by suddenly accepting
the new doctrines in the evening of life; there was nothing,
therefore, to fear from him.
But there was an error in these calculations: whatever
might be the sentiments of the princes of the empire on
other subjects, there was so much esprit de corps among
them that they at once recognised to the full the danger of
a rising of their natural enemies, the nobles. " If we let
one go we are all lost." This was the opinion even of
Albrecht of Mayence; but it was a point entirely overlooked by Sickingen.
Early in the summer of 1522 he collected together horses
and horsemen, arms and stores, fortified his castles, and
summoned the hired soldiers. It was easy to find a pretext
for a quarrel with the Archbishop of Treves, and he advanced
against him. On the 7th of September he suddenly appeared
before the city, but the resolute archbishop was not taken
by surprise. Sickingen could not take even the suburbs;
the city itself was crammed full of knights and soldiers; the
clergy and citizens stood armed at their posts; and while
his attack was warded off, the reinforcements on which he
had relied were partly driven back and partly beaten.
A failure at this juncture was most disastrous. The
world was to be astonished by a coip de main, the enemy to
be startled by a sudden success; but if the enemy had
time to consider and make preparation, Sickingen would
have to contend with a power that even he was not man
enough to resist.
Things came to the worst for him. Forsaken by his allies,
threatened with the advance of the Elector Palatine and
the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, by the 14th of December
Sickingen was compelled to retreat.  Condemned to act
fruitlessly on the defensive himself, he had to witness the




86      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
punishment of his allies, Hartmuth von Kronenberg and
Frowen von Hutten, and the humiliation of the rest of his
followers; and in the spring of 1523 he saw his two ill.
defended castles of Ebernburg and Landstuhl threatened
with an alliance which could not fail to crush him.
In April the Elector Palatine and the Landgrave advanced with their artillery.  Sickingen looked down from
Landstuhl for succour in vain. The nobles would not run
any further risk, and the Reformers abjured any part in the
revolution. Even the first guns which were fired against
Landstuhl, on the 3oth of April, showed that there was no
chance for the old walls against this kind of warfare.
Seriously wounded, Sickingen was obliged to capitulate.
"This unfortunate firing," he said, " has ruined my castle;"
and he died in presence of his victors.
The nobles were vanquished with him in their first attempt to resist princes and priests, and to regain the liberties
which acknowledged no other rule than that of the Emperor.
The victory of the princes was also a triumph of modern
warfare, with which even the chivalry of a Sickingen could
not compete.
The nobles of the empire were now, one after another,
attacked; everywhere the opportunity was eagerly seized by
the neighbouring prince to restrain the insolent knight, and
to accustom him to the position of a subject freeholder.
One thing is noteworthy in the events of this period-that.the elements between which some affinity existed never
united together. Sickingen perished in I523; in 1524 the
peasants rose; in the spring of I525 they set the south and
west of Germany in flames, yet there was no connection
between the two events, though the objects of both parties
were so closely allied. Although here and there a noble
headed the peasantry in the peasants' war, it is well known
that it only took place from compulsion.  Yet in the
declarations of the peasants we often find the programme
of the nobles repeated almost word for word. Each class
went its own way and perished alone; the nobles like an
army of officers without soldiers, the peasants like soldiers
without officers. Had they united their forces, they would
have formed a lever which would have produced a tremen.
dous commotion. These two elements afterwards combined
to upset the ancient monarchy in France.
Except Hutten, who by no means disdained a league




REACTION.                    87
with the peasantry,* the nobles were too proud to have
anything to do with them, and a victory gained at the price
of the enfranchisement of that class would have seemed to
them too dearly bought. They were themselves in part the
oppressors of the people, and many of the people's bitterest
complaints were against the nobles. Thus the gulf between
them was impassable; and it was not without cause that
the hatred of the peasantry was afterwards directed not
only against the priests and princes, but also against the
nobles.
Hutten took flight after the failure of Sickingen's enterprise, for the ecclesiastical and temporal powers combined
to persecute him. Weak and ill, at variance with his old
friends and with himself, and not approving of many of the
proceedings of the nobles, he fled to Switzerland, where he
closed his life in great misery, in the island of Ufnau, a few
weeks after Sickingen had perished in Germany.
Thus ended the first revolutionary revolt which accompanied the Reformation. It was soon to be followed by
another, which was joined by much larger numbers, at first
presented a threatening aspect, and then fell to the ground
like the revolt of the nobles.
THE REACTION.-THE ZEAL OF THE CURIA.-THE
CONVENTION OF RATISBON.
The course which events took in this rising among the
nobles resulted in no good to the Reformation. However
decidedly reform and revolution may be opposed to each
other, the former always has to help to expiate the sins of
the latter. So it was in this case. Sickingen's enterprise
was ascribed to the Reformation. It was of no avail to
say that Luther had taken no part in it, for the Reformers
to declare that they had altogether declined to share the
responsibility of Sickingen's projects, and that Sickingen
had only wanted to make a tool of the Reformation, anil
would not take the right means to carry it out; it was all
in vain. To some it was a reason, and to others a pretext,
for saying, "These are the consequences of the Reforma.
tion." t
We now first hear of decided measures being taken
* See poem. of 1522, " Neu Karsthaus."   t Hagen.




88      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
against the new preaching. Individuals were persecuted as
abettors of it who were not so; the Reformers were in.
timidated, and their efficiency diminished. The Imperial
Chamber also felt the effects of the reaction; it was reproached with having favoured the cause, and with having
secretly aided Sickingen. This was absurd. The Imperial
Chamber had not been able to protect its own members
trom highway robbery, to say nothing of defeating a martial
leader like Sickingen, and the Chamber was the representa.
tive of the very authority against which Sickingen took the
field.
At the Diet in 1524 most of the members of the Chamber
resigned, and the Papal Legate, Campeggi, thought the time
was come to make his previous demands with more chance
of success. In I523 a reminder of the Edict of Worms had
been answered by the one hundred Gravamina. He now
alluded to it again, but they were not yet ready for that.
The Legate again mistook the signs of the times: although
the Chamber was composed almost entirely of new members,
the majority was still against the edict. It was certainly a
question how long this was to go on; whether a fresh disturbance would not lessen this majority; whether after this
second unfortunate experience it would not be decided, if
not to carry out the edict of 152I, at any rate to upset the
decree of I523.
A schism among the German princes on the great religious question now arose for the first time. Influenced by
the Legate, a fraction of them would hear nothing more of
reform.
Up to this time a certain absolutism had prevailed at the
Diets; there were really no parties, no Lutherans, only
German Christians who wished for reform-no Catholics
who deprecated it. Men of all shades of opinion were
united on the basis of their grievances and demands for
their reform, and these had been repeated ever since the
Councils of Costnitz and Basle. The formation of sects
was looked upon as a dangerous hindrance to any improvement. The formula of the Diet of June, I523, had united
all Germany.
But a change took place under the influence of the events
o! the summ!er of 1523. A party of the German princes
banded together and adopte  as their watchword, " Let us
have no more changes, let all remain as it is;" and the




ZEAL OF THE CURIA.                89
Curia came to terms with them and refused reform, though
it made a partial concession.
Pope Leo X. had died in December, i521, just when
Charles's successful campaign in Italy was filling him with
anxiety, and his successor was Charles's old tutor, Adrian
von Utrecht. He was by no means unworthy of the dignity
which the Emperor's great influence had conferred upon
him; and his character was so strongly marked, that great
anxiety was felt as to the part he might take in the movement in Germany.
Adrian XI. had grown up under the strictest monastic
discipline; he was thoroughly but sincerely the monk, and
as such he took up his position with regard to the Reformation. As a Dominican he hated the new doctrine, hated
any rebellion against the authority of the Church; but on
the subject of the corruption of the clergy and the fearful
decline of morality, even among the highest dignitaries, of
the Church, he was at one with the heretics. He acknowledged this openly as no pope had ever done before him.
One of his first acts was to issue an instruction to Chieregati,* in which the following passage occurs: "We know
that for a long time many abominations have been perpetrated in the Holy See; abuses in ecclesiastical affairs,
violation of rights; everything has gone wrong. From the
head the mischief has extended to the limbs, from the Pope
to the cardinals; we are all gone astray; there is none
that doeth good, no, not one."
This was of the greatest importance. Never had the Curia
so expressed itself before.  And they were not empty
words: Adrian was in earnest. He began with the head,
that he might work upon the limbs. He began to establish a simple apostolic household, to abolish the luxurious
habits of the court, he lived as he had lived as a monk,
slept at Rome on the same hard couch that had served him
in a munastery, and continued his scourgings like any insignificant brother; but he demanded the same simplicity
and self-denial from others, and the splendid papal establishment was suddenly abolished.
He encountered opposition everywhere, which was not
unnatural, as the previous state of things had existed for
centuries, and the superior clergy and the Roman people
regarded all this state as indispensable to the Church; be* Ranke.




90       THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
sides this, they looked upon the Pope with suspicion as a
foreigner. When he died, after a short reign, rejoicings
took place at Rome.
Thus failed the attempt to reform the Church at the
head: how could reform ever reach the limbs? His successor,
Clement VII., i523, to Sept., I534, was a Medici, and, like
the rest of that family, was a man of varied intellectual
culture, a connoisseur of art and patron of learning, and a
thorough man of the world.  It was not one of the least
misfortunes of the Catholic Church that in this century the
papal chair was repeatedly occupied by Italian princes, who
were more intent on advancing their worldly interests than
on the duties of their spiritual office. In such times a
simple but earnest monk of good principles was far better
adapted fo the post than a prince who saw in the dignity of
his office nothing but a means for the aggrandisement of
his house. This is what Leo X. attempted, and his successor succeeded in. Clement VII. brought it to this-that
when the situation was such that he should have been ready
to make any sacrifice to keep on good terms with the
Emperor, that he might, with his aid, put a stop to heresy,
a mortal enmity sprang up between them, and the Emperor sent his hired troops to reduce the Eternal City to
ruins.
Nothing was to be expected from this pope for the cause
of reform. He had not even the wish to promote it, to say
nothing of the power. For him the secular interests of
Italy were paramount; and there is nothing in his administration to remind us of the great crisis through which
the Church was passing.
The first act of the new papal government was, by dexterously taking advantage of the revolutionary movements,
to warn the princes who had hitherto been the most zealous
adherents of the ancient Church to go no further, but to
agree on a programme which should prevent any further
concessions.
This was in the summer of 1524. At the end of June
the so-called convention took place at Ratisbon, at which
Austria, Bavaria, and the ecclesiastical states of South
Germany were represented. An agreement was come to
on two points:That there should be reform in the Church to a certain
extent, and concessions to the terr poral powers; but that in




THE, CONVENTION OF RATISBON.              91
that case any extension of the new doctrine should be
strictly prohibited.
What I call reforms and concessions related to the most
glaring abuses in the existing Church system. It was decided that the appointments to offices in the Church should
be made with more regard to personal merit; that a number
of ecclesiastical extortions should cease; that a stop should
be put to the sale of indulgences; that financial extortions
should be restricted; that a portion of ecclesiastical estates
and incomes should be set apart for the secular princes of
Bavaria and Austria.
No further concessions were to be made to the new
doctrine on any pretence whatever, and anything having
even an appearance of favouring it was to be strictly prohibited. The redress of the one hundred Gravamina was
no longer insisted on.
The position of affairs was greatly changed, when we
compare this convention with the Diet of I523, when there
was not a single prince to take the Legate's part. It was
the first triumph of the new papal policy in the matter of
reform. The only reforms ever promoted at Rome were in
the spirit of these concessions made at Ratisbon: by partial
concessions to particular princes and the abolition of minor
abuses an attempt was made to save the whole; and even
these were often nothing more than empty promises, defeated by the unconditional engagement to oppose all
further innovations.
This was the situation of affairs when, at the end of 1524
and beginning of 1525, the clouds of a new and still greater
revolution were gathering over Germany, which was but
foreshadowed by the events of 1522-3.  This was the
Peasai ts' War.




CHAPTER VII.
rie Great Peasants' War, 1524-5.-The increasing Oppression of th.
Peasantry.-The Prelude to the Peasants' War in I514. —Influence of the Reformation. -The Twelve Articles.-The Heilbronn
Scheme. - Thomas Miinzer.-Luther's Attitude. - The Catastrophe, May and June, I525.
THE PEASANTS' WAR OF 1525.*
T HAT  which occasioned so fearful an outbreak in the
winter of 1524-5 had  long been  fermenting in the
blood of the people and the tendencies of the age. Ever
since the Hussite wars the fermentation had been going on
among the peasant class. The execution of some of the
leaders had only given fresh courage to others-such as
the " Kasebr6der "t in the Netherlands, the "Bundschuh "$
in Baden-but the position of the peasantry was in no way
improved. Thus the discontent increased; even in I476,
1491, I498, and I503 there had been outbursts of a
threatening  character on the Maine, the Rhine, and in
South Germany; and the causes of discontent were increased
rather than diminished.
None of the abuses by means of which the rulers, the
* Zimmermann, Geschichte des Bauernkrieges, I854. Bensen, Geschichte des Bauernkrieges in Ostfranken. Erlangen, I840. Jorg.,
Deutschland, I521-26. Ratisbon, I852.
t Literally, Cheese-brothers, a name adopted by a league of rebellious peasants in the Netherlands, in 1491.
$ Bundschuh, a tied shoe, as worn by the peasants, in contrast to
the buckled shoes of the upper classes; and a shoe being an ancient
symbol of subjection, by adopting one of their own shoes fastened to a
pole as their symbol, the peasants meant to denote that they were
rising against the rule of the nobles, and meant henceforth to be their
own masters. The word afterwards calne to be used for any rebellious
league, when the origin of it was forgotten, and the word Bund was
supposed to mean a league or union. -TR.




OPPRESSION OF THE PEASANTRY.              93
ecclesiastical proprietors and the nobles, oppressed the
peasants, had been abolished. Some partial rebellions had
met with the usual fate of such attempts; they had no
effect as warnings, or in inclining the rulers to clemency,
but rather occasioned the reins to be drawn still tighter.
Then with the increase of luxury, the demands on the
peasantry, the beasts of burden of society, had greatly
increased.
Ever since intercourse with the New World had been
opened, a great change had taken place in all classes of
society. The new markets and sources of income created
immense riches; new pleasures and new wants gave rise to
luxury such as had never been known before. The wealthy
merchants of the cities could afford it, but it was emulated
by those who could not. Knights and nobles had to find
fresh sources of revenue, or illegally to increase those they
had before; and since the treaty of peace (Landfriede) they
were in a great measure debarred from their profitable and
favourite occupation of plundering the cities. Thus thepeasants only were left them for a prey, and they screwed
them more cruelly and systematically than ever before.
Most of the taxes were imposed by ancient legal covenants,
but even the opponents of the revolt could not deny that
they had been illegally and unreasonably multiplied.
In many districts the oppression of the peasants had
occasioned violent outbreaks. One of these took place in
51r4, in Wiirtemberg. A "Bundschuh," or peasants' league,
had existed there in profound secrecy for years. No one was
admitted to membership who possessed property, but neither
were vagrants nor persons of evil repute: "poor Kunz" or
" Conrad," the industrious artisan or honest labourer, was
the privileged person. Their captain stalked about in a
tattered cloak, and assumed the airs of an imperial general;
it was connived at as mere sport, but it was a dangerous
sport, like that of the " Beggars" at a later period. The
police, in their short-sightedness, often mistook symptoms
for causes, and at other times did not perceive their dangerous character.
It was a godless government in Wiirtemberg, which might
have driven the most patient people to desperation. The
lawless Duke Ulrich was at length at enmity with all the
world, and most of all with his cruelly used subjects. He
was a despot of the modern fashion, of whose sports,




94      THE REFORMATION IN GI RMANY.
pleasures, and banquets fabulous stories are told;'ut there
seems to be too much foundation for most of them.
When the new tax on property and articles of consumption became insupportable it was resisted, but at first by
harmless methods. When false weights were introduced,
this thi.mb-screw to increase the tax on meat, bread, and
wine, the league formed a procession with fifes and drums
to the Rems, jestingly tested the weights over the river, and
the Duke's weight was found wanting.
From the valley of the Rems the disturbances spread to
other districts, the arrest of one of the leaders called up
thousands of armed peasants like magic. They advanced
to the cities, and took possession of some of them. Before
it came to bloodshed a treaty was entered into with the
leaders; the Duke and the Diet promised that everything
should be honestly investigated and reformed. This dispersed the people, but the government then faithlessly
seized upon the leaders, to whom safe-conduct had been
promised; the Duke sent his soldiers into the peaceful
villages, took the conspirators captive, and innocent and
guilty were alike barbarously plundered and ill treated.
This was ten years before the events which agitated the
country far beyond Wiirtemberg.
There was, in fact, no material legal redress in prospect
for the peasants. However highly the Roman law might
be valued, still it was a misfortune for this part of the population that a foreign system of laws, administered in a foreign
language, should prevail. It was from this that the blind
hatred of the peasants to the doctores juris arose. It was
a well-grounded complaint in this case, if in any, that the
national law had been superseded by a foreign one, which
rendered the common people defenceless against legal
chicanery. Nowhere had the poor man equal rights with
the rich and great. This was one of the greatest grievances
in the condition of Germany. The guardianship of the
Emperor and the Church, which had lightened the burdens
of the people in the Middle Ages, which everywhere represented the milder forms of subjection, and whose yoke was
an easy one, now no longer existed. This was the inflamimable material into which the spark of the Reformation fell.
The Reformation was not the exciting cause of the cornmotions among the peasantry. There were revolts among
them of an earlier date than these religious conflicts, and




OPPRESSION OF THE PEASANTRY.              95
they must be included among the symptoms which portended the convulsions of the sixteenth century.  It is
certain, however, that under the influence of the Reformation the commotions assumed a different character.  It
always makes a great difference whether resistance arises
from local and individual oppression, or whether it is aroused
by a state of things contrary to the universal principles of
morality and religion-whether the revolt of individuals
against intolerable oppression receives a sort of sanction
from a new constitution of society and the state. Now
that a doctrine had come to the aid of the peasants, which
promised deliverance to the human race from burdens and
bondage of every sort, the case was quite other than it was
when they were only complaining of tithes and compulsory
service.
It was quite intelligible that the Reformers should understand the gospel in a purely spiritual sense; but it was also
intelligible that the peasants, in their pitiful condition,
should prefer to take it literally. Wherr the Scriptures were
in their hands, when they found in this simple and popular
book a number of sayings which seemed favourable to their
cause, it appeared as if they had found an organ, and their
spokesmen could say, "We ask nothing but what is promised by the founders of the Christian religion, and we
are supported in our demands by the Scriptures."
There was nothing in the Bible about the hierarchy, or
the distinction between the clergy and laity, nothing about
the caste-like distinctions which were universal in the
mediaeval world, nothing about the duty of the poor and
the weak to bear for ever the boundless oppression of lords
spiritual and temporal; no, the Founder of this faith
addressed Himself to the poor, the weary, and the heavyladen; His teaching seemed to be aimed against pharisaic
tyranny. It is undeniable that there is a large democratic
element in Christianity, only an attempt was made to take
it in too literal and material a sense. Before the Reformation the peasants' wars were occasioned simply by natural
hatred of unjust oppression; after it a strong religious
element was mingled with it, a faith that'they were fighting
for true Christianity, a fanaticism which joyfully encountered
death for a great cause.
From the end of I524 there were. symptoms in important
isolated risings that a general insurrection was at hand. and




96      TIHE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
it was a singular fact, which alone preserved the existing
order of things in Germany, that the two most dangerous
opponents of the power of the rulers, the nobles and the
peasants, rose up, not together, but in turn, only in turn to
be vanquished.
The i'surrection began in the summer of 1524, on the
Upper Rhine, along the Swiss frontiers. On the other side
of the river the peasantry were free, and the unhappy people,
encouraged by their success, gradually set South, West,
and Central Germany, Alsace, Mayence, and the borders
of the Neckar, in flames. North Germany only was
spared.
In this revolution, as in every other, there were many
shades of opinion-from the moderate party, whose desires
were certainly reasonable and practicable, to the extreme
set, who called the whole existing order of society in question. So it had been in the Hussite wars. When there is
no longer any faith in the old order of things, and "Mr.
Omnes" appears on- the scene, such extremes are never
wanting. They are not, as many nowadays maintain, an
invention of modern times; they are as old as humanity
itself. The only difference I see is, that among the masses
a feeling of their own importance and self-confidence in the
contest has greatly increased.
The Twelve Articles which were circulated in Hegau and
the borders of Lake Constance formed a comparatively
moderate programme for a revolution, and its practicability
cannot be disputed.
But there was another party in Franconia, from Rothenburg and Bensheim, as far as Wiirzburg and the Tauber,
comprising not peasants alone, but some educated people,
who thought that the time was come for reconstituting
the whole empire. They were the advocates of a strong
monarchical power, the opponents of subdivision into principalities, and of the oppressive feudal system; they demanded
uniformity in the coinage, measures, weights, customs, and
the legal administration, and the abolition of a foreign system
of laws. Their programme has a singular resemblance to
that of 1789. These demands could not, of course, have
originated with the peasantry a'one; the plan was drawn up
by learned men who had been in office, and they hoped by
one stroke to put an end to all the misery in the German
empire. This party was again surpassed by another, who




IHE PEASANTS' WAR.                 97
orre to be found farther north, in Thuringia and Saxonythe followers of Thomas Miinzer, who projected a revolution of the most radical sort, which could only have been
carried out by subverting every existing institution.
Thus popular, national, religious, political, and social
elements were all in commotion together. This was unfortunate for the healthy and justifiable part of the plan:
had this been unanimously kept to, the world must have
submitted to it without bloodshed.
It was not at first the intention of the peasants to use
violence: they rather meant to obtain concessions by resolutions at great meetings, and by popular demonstrations.
Their opponents dexterously, but dishonourably, took advantage of this, and promised redress: courts of arbitration
should be established, in which it should be thoroughly
investigated what was legal and what illegal, and improvements adopted accordingly; but this was only a feint. We
have proofs in writing that those who thus pacified and
dispersed the malcontents made themselves merry because
the peasants had fallen into the snare. The object was to
gain time for preparation at any price.  If the peasants
broke out just then they would find their opponents unprepared, and inflammable material in plenty; there was no
disciplined army in all South Germany capable of opposing
a front to them.
In February and March, I525, the revolt broke out
everywhere simultaneously. The faith of the peasants in
redress was betrayed, oppression by no means lessened,
and a longer delay would only give their lords and masters
time to arm to the teeth.
The coincidence of the outbreak in various places was
hot so much the result of an understanding as of the fact
that circumstances were everywhere the same. The flames
burst out in the Schwarzwald, at Hegau on Lake Constance, at Kempten and Salzburg. The Franconian peasants
soon joined the rebels, and there was a similar rising from
Wiirtemberg to Nuremberg. It soon spread to the provinces
of the Middle Rhine, to the Palatinate, Alsace, and the
Taurus, throughout the dominions of the nobles of the
Middle Rhine.
It is beyond the province of a general history of the
period to specify the individual conflicts. When the storm
broke in the south-west corner of Germany, and, under the.
7




98      THE REFORMATION TIT, GEFRMANY.
leadership of Hans Miiller of Bulgenbach, extended itself
to the Lake of Constance, a programme was put forth and
circulated throughout the empire, which was considered to
be that of the German peasantry generally. There were
Twelve Articles,? the majority of which have now been
universally carried out.
In the preamble the reader is reminded that the peasants
were demanding nothing but what was justified by the
principles of the gospel; it was not they, therefore, who
were rebels, but' those who refused their just rights in
opposition to the teaching of Christ. They had no desire
for revolt; they knew that the gospel preached a religion
of peace and love. If, nevertheless, things came to the
worst, they would not be responsible for it.  But they
trusted in God.  "Will God blame the peasants who
anxiously strive to live according to His will? Who will find
fault with His will? (Romans xi.)  Who will interfere
with His judgments? (Isaiah xl.) Who can resist His
majesty? (Romans viii.) Did He not hear the children of
Israel when they cried unto Him,.and deliver them out of
the hand of Pharaoh, and will He not deliver His people
now? Yes, He will avenge them speedily. (Exodus iii., xiv.;
Luke xviii. 8.) Therefore, Christian reader, read attentively
the following articles, and then judge.
I. "The whole congregation shall elect and choose a
minister, and shall have power to dismiss him, should he
conduct himself improperly. (I Timothy iii.; Titus i.)" (This
was not demanded by Luther, though it was by Zwingli.)
"The elected minister shall preach the pure gospel to us
plainly, without human addition, human learning, or commands. (Acts xiv.)"
2. Only the great tithe (the legal tithe of corn), as
ordained in the Old Testament, shall be paid in future;
and, after the maintenance of the minister is provided for,
the remainder shall be for the maintenance of the village
poor, and a little laid by for.times of war. But they will
no longer pay the small tithes; "they are unjust tithes of
man's invention," for "the Lord God created beasts for
man's free use."
3. They will no longer be held as " bondsmen," " since
Christ has bought us and redeemed us all by His precious
* Given in detail in Zimmenrmau.




THE TWELVE ARTICLES.                  99
blood.  The Scripture teaches us that we are free, and we
desire t;o be free.  Not that we want to be so free as to
have nso rulers; God does not teach that."  They were
willing to "obey in everything reasonable and Christian
the elected rulers ordained by God."
4. (Game, fowl, and fish shall be free as God created
them, and they will no longer endure " that what God has
permitted to grow for man's use shall be wastefully devoured by irrational creatures."
5. The management of woods is unreasonable, for the
upper classes have appropriated all the firewood to themselves.  "It is our opinion that whatever firewood they
have not bought, if in possession of ecclesiastics or laymen, should be restored to the commune, and every one
in the commune shall be at liberty in reason to take
what he wants for his house without payment, also to take
it for carpenter's work, but with the knowledge of those
persons appointed by the commune to the office (of inspector), whereby the destruction of firewood will be prevented."
6. The burden of compulsory service shall be restricted.
7. The peasant especially shall not be compelled to do
"more than he is bound to do by the contract between
the master and peasant. Anything over and beyond this
shall be done for reasonable pay."
8. Rents are so high that.they ruin the peasants. They
shall be regulated afresh according to reason.
9. Arbitrary punishments and perpetual fresh inflictions
of them shall cease.
Iio. The pastures and fields which have been taken
from the communes shall be restored.
II. The right of heriot, by which widows and orphans
are deprived of their inheritance, shall be entirely abolished.
12. All these propositions shall be tested by Scripture,
and if they can be refuted, but in that case only, they
shall not stand.
The two main points in this programme are liberty in
Church matters and for the preaching of the new doctrine,
and the abolition of feudal oppression, which was an intolerable burden to the poor man.  Ancient rights were
expressly recognised, but ancient abuses of them assailed.
It was a moderate programme-humane, practicable, and
jistified by Scripture. Had it been carried out in 1524, Ger.




z1oo    THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
many would have been spared an immense calamity. Besides
all individual suffering, the nation as a whole would have
been spared the evil consequences of an unsuccessful
revolution. The healthy interest in politics and public
affairs which in those stirring times began to be manifested
would have been fostered, instead of being crushed.
The Twelve Articles were at first the programme of the
whole peasant class; thousands upon thousands of the
little handbills were circulated. It was an unhappy thing
for the peasants that they did not keep to these demands,
that they split up into parties, and weakened the force of
their just requests by want of unanimity.  It was quite
intelligible that the ruling powers should oppose the
fanaticism which prevailed in Saxony and Thuringia under
the leadership of Thomas Miinzer, Carlstadt, and the men
of Zwickau; common prudence should have prevented
claims so preposterous as theirs from being put forth.
Besides the Twelve Articles another programme appeared,
which originated'with the more educated classes, and in
their earnest desire for a thorough reform of the German
State and Church. The desire of this party was to lay the
foundations of a new constitution for Germany amidst the
commotions occasioned by the Peasants' War, and their
demands had considerable resemblance to those advanced
in 1789.
The scheme had been drawn up by Wendel Hipler,
formerly chancellor to Prince Hohenlohe. Heilbronn, where
it originated, was selected as the seat of a provisional
government, as the central point of the Peasan':s' War.
The demands, comprised in fourteen articles, rere:-That
all ecclesiastics, high or low, of whatever nanle and rank,
be subjected to reform; their property corfiscated and
devoted to the common good, after enough has been
assigned to them for the necessaries of life; that all tern.
poral rulers, counts, and lords be reformed, in order that
the poor man may be no longer oppressed, but that the
most humble may have equal rights with the mrost exalted;
that all cities and communes be reformed in accordance
with Christian liberty and natural and divine laws; that
all taxes upon the land be abolished; that no doctor of
the Roman law be admitted to any office; that no ecclesiastic have a seat in the councils of the empire nor hold
any temporal office; that sixty-four courts oi justice be




THE IfEILBRONN SCHEME.               10!
established in the empire composed of members of all
classes of society, sixteen provincial courts, four superior
courts, and over them all an imperial supreme court of
judicature; that all roads be open, the merchants safe in
their journeys, but that the prices of their merchandise be
regulated; that there be no tax but the old imperial tax;
a uniform system of coinage, weights, and measures throughout the empire; that the usury practised by the great
bankers be limited; that the nobles be free from ecclesiastical feudal obligations; that the dominion of the ruling
princes be abolished; that there be but one rule and one
authority, that of the Emperor.*
This Heiibronn scheme breathes a very different spirit
from that of the twelve Swabian articles. While it demands
a subversion of the German ecclesiastical constitution, there
is nothing expressly said of the teaching of the gospel; and
the material demands, which in those occupy so large a
space, are in this only cursorily touched on. This, on the
contrary, presents the last bold sketch of a plan of imperial
reform, in which the ancient idea of the empire is presented
from the democratic, not the imperial point of view, or that
of the ruling princes. This scheme projected its shadow far
into the future, and was for a long time partly carried out
and partly refused. Had the leaders united in proposing a
plan of this sort, and had the masses adhered to it as one
man, it would have afforded material for a tremendous
revolution. And the first successes of the peasants were surprising: prelates, nobles,-and cities submitted to them  in
continually increasing numbers.  From the left bank of the
Rhine far into Austria and the Tyrol, from the Lake of
Constance to Franconia and Thuringia, the revolt had
engulfed all cognate elements, and partly vanquished, and
partly stunned, whatever was in opposition to it.  The
successor of the Elector Frederic of Saxony, who had just
died, once exclaimed, in melancholy jest, "Who knows how
long my power may last?" and it was no wonder that the
reigning princes thought things looked ominous for them.
It was natural that it should be an enigma to Napoleon I.
that Charles V. did not take advantage of the situation to
make Germany a united empire. But it was not natural
that a monarch should think of it who was always occupied
~ Bensen, Ranke.




102     THIE KXEPORMATION IN GERMA.NY.
with other things than reforms in Germany, spiritual or
temporal, who had just fought the battle of Pavia, and was
meditating at Madrid on the fruits of his victory.
Of much greater moment than the Emperor's attitude
was the bearing of the citizen middle-class portion of the
nation, among whom the Reformation had its seat, and who
were accustomed to take command from Luther. If he
joined the peasants in their revolt, if he echoed their demands, social, national, and ecclesiastical, the movement
would be irresistible, and would carry the reigning princes
along with it; but if he held back or opposed the revolt,
its wings would be clipped, and a reaction would set in.
Before Luther had declared himself, the masses counted
on him as their leader, or reckoned at least on his silent
approval. The opinions entertained even among the governing classes were very various, and many of the imperial
cities were in favour of the peasants' demands, and thought
that an effort should be made to carry out other needful
reforms with their moderate help.
But when Luther disclaimed all participation in the
rebellion, and then expressed a downright condemnation
of it, all the middle class, the great camp of his party,
turned against it, and the fate of the movement was virtlially decided. The error in this, as in so many other
revolutionary movements, was want of moderation.
Thomas Miinzer stands foremost among the travelling
preachers of the Peasants' War who were against everything
which the middle class held sacred. The opposite tendencies of the age are curiously united in this remarkable
man. He is at enmity with the entire existing order of
things, yet quarrels with the leaders who are beginning to
reconstitute it.  He hates the constitution, service, and
doctrine of the ancient Church; but he hates Luther still
more, because he has stopped half-way. As a rationalist he
is opposed to Luther's doctrine of justification and election
of grace; yet he is enough of a mystic to boast that he
receives divine revelations, and to address the people as a
prophet. He leads the onslaught against convents, images,
priests, and the professional garb; but the revolt of the
peasants against the arbitrary power of princes, nobles, an(l
priests is not enough for him; the treaties which abolish the
oppression of the oild order of things are preposterous;
princes, nobles, and priests should no longer exist; property




LUTHER S ATTITUDE.                I03
itself is an evil; the subversion of Church and State must
be followed by that of the whole existing order of society.
Between the Maine and  the Rhine, between  Upper
Swabia and Thuringia, he inflamed the people with his
fiery harangues, in the style of the Old Testament, against
palaces and courts and the temporal and spiritual rulers.
"' Look not on the sorrow of the ungodly, let not youI
sword grow cold from blood, strike hard upon the anvil of
Nimrod, cast his tower to the ground, because the day is
yours." Thus does he incite them to murderous onslaughts,
and from the security of Miihlhausen he prepared for a
decisive stroke.
IWe know well what was Luther's opinion of everything
like attempts to redress grievances by violence, whether by
high or low, in a good cause or a bad. It was his firm conviction that rebellion is always an evil, that it is contrary to
the divine order, and only increases the mischief. On no
point is he more thoroughly consistent than on this.
For the princes, who at a later period would have fought
for his cause against the Emperor, he had the same answer
as for the nobles when they rebelled against the princes.
His attitude in relation to the Peasants' War was therefore
settled beforehand; it resulted from an essential feature in
his character; and the accusation is quite false which was
made against him by the party spirit of the time, that he
held back at first because he had not the courage to speak
out, and that it was the triumphs of the reaction which
again emboldened him. Before anything decisive had occurred he did the most courageous thing he could do-he
broke with all parties. He was convinced that temporal
and spiritual objects could not be pursued together; that
reform had no worse ally than revolution; that teaching,
preaching, schools, education-all would fall to the ground
if this turbulent movement proved victorious.  The experiences of 1793 justified this opinion. Amidst civil war,
accustomed to violent and aimless revolution, the people
would become uncivilised, the simple religious feeling of
old times would be quenched, the gradual growth.of a new
spirit could not prosper amidst the storm and tumult of
revolution.
Luther at once replied to the Twelve Articles of the Swabian
peasants with an exhortation to peace: he endeavoured to
moderate the peasants, but at the same time reminded the




104     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
princes and nobles of their old and manifold wrong.
doings. "You must be changed, and submit to God's
word," &c. But writing could do no good in this case; the
I)easants thought him lukewarm, and the princes and nobles
considered his representations too unfavourable to them.''he storm now broke wildly over palaces, churches, and
convents, caused by the incendiarism of the well-known
" murderous prophets and factious spirits," as Luther used
to call Miinzer and his followers. Luther was then stirred
up, and wrote his second paper "against the rapacious and
murderous peasants," the tone of which was as violent as
the peasants themselves. He stormed against the shameful
deeds of thEe rebels, and was so far carried away as to call
upon the authorities to take severe measures against them;
they should " stab, kill, and strangle " them without mercy.
This could but do harm: the authorities were already so
exasperated that he should have urged moderation upon
them.
The part that Luther took against the movement had
very decisive results: the great body of the middle class,
which had been undecided before, now received their
watchword. Those upon whose sympathies the peasants
had counted took no part; the rest prepared for armed
resistance.
The Peasants' War failed for want of skilful leaders, through
the indiscretion of the masses, from want of unanimity
among their leaders and their plans, and from the attitude
of the party who, though not at first unfavourable, afterwards either took no part in it or openly joined their
adversaries.
Miinzer's peasant army, badly armed and worse led, was
entirely defeated at Frankenhausen by the troops of the
Landgrave of Hesse, the Elector John, and the Dukes
George and Henry of Saxony, on the I5th of May, I525.
The captain of the Swabian league, Truchsess von Waldburg,
and the Electors of the Palatinate and Treves, put an end
to the rebellion in Wiirtemberg, the bands of soldiers in
Alsace and on the Tauber were cut down, the defenceless
farms and villages burnt, and the remnant of the rebels
treated with the greatest cruelty.
The peasants experienced the usual consequences of an
Unsuccessful revolt in their worst form: the vanquished party
wrere inhumanly punished, and the oppression against which




RESULTS OF THE PEASANTS' WAR.    105
they had rebelled became greater than ever. A very few
masters had sufficient self-denial to loosen the reins a little,
but most of the peasants suffered more than before. The
effects of the reaction were very great, and caused all
attempts at reform, to which so lively an impulse had been
given, to be looked upon as suspicious and revolutionary
It is easy, when an alarming rebellion has been quelled, to
condemn without discrimination all that appears to have
any connection with it. The real grievances were not in the
least degree remedied, only put aside, so that the mischief
was still raging in secret. The Peasants' War not only did
nothing for the class who originated it; it occasioned a great
schism in the nation, injured the great cause of reform,
and quenched men's interest in politics for a long time to
WMI&~a




CHAPTER VIII.
Rnection of the Revolution upon the Reformation. —Charlets V. and
the Peace of Madrid.-The Diet of Spire, August, 1526.-Spread
of the Reformation.-Its share in the National Disruption.-The
new War ill Italy.-The League of Cognac, May, 1526.-The
Storming of Rome by the Imperial Troops, 1527.-Advance of the
French to Naples, and Dissolution of their Army there, 1528.Peace of Barcelona and Cambray, I529.-The League between the
Pope, the Emperor, and the King against the Heretics.
W    HILE these events were transpiring in Germany,
Charles V. was at Madrid, deliberating how  he
should compel his royal prisoner, Francis I., whose army
was destroyed at Pavia, to conclude a peace in accordance
with his brilliant victory.
His exorbitant demands were clearly a mistake. Had he
been reasonable a lasting peace might have been secured;
but he exacted conditions from the King which he could not
adhere to, and which were simply impracticable for any
king of France.
By the peace of Madrid, of January, I526, the following
conditions were imposed upon Francis:-All French claims
upon Milan, Naples, and Sicily were to cease; Flanders and
Artois to be restored to the Emperor; the King to marry the
Emperor's sister as a pledge of perpetual alliance with him;
and Burgundy was to be surrendered.
The first two conditions were hard, the last two absurd.
The Emperor and the King were natural enemies whom no
marriage could make into allies. Such a cession as that
of Burgundy could only properly be asked or granted if
France itself had been annihilated. Francis had been at war
for twenty years, and, though continually unsuccessful, he
had always made peace on better terms than these. The
oath by which Francis confirmed the treaty was quite unnatural; he took it with the criminal frivolity which charac.




THE PEACE OF MADRID.               107
terized the morals of the sixteenth century, for he had even
beforehand circulated a document among his friends, in
which he declared the oath about to be extorted from him
to be null and void.
One point there was in the treaty on which the policy of
the parties might coincide-in proceeding against the Turks
on the one hand, and the heretics who had escaped from the
bosom of the holy Church on the other.
The course European politics were taking tended in the
same direction as the reaction against the Reformation
which resulted from the horrors of the Peasants' War.
In fact, the Emperor's first proclamation after the peace of
Madrid, dated March, I526, and addressed to some of the
princes of the empire, informed them that decided steps
were to be immediately taken against heresy. A league of
the orthodox would be desirable as a preliminary step, but
the Emperor was himself about to take the question in hand
at Rome.
Charles was then counting upon his allies, King Francis
and Pope Clement VII., but a few weeks later he could no
longer do so. On the 22nd of May, Francis and Clement
had formed a conspiracy against the Emperor at Cognac; a
European war was in prospect; and when, at the Diet at
Spire in June and July of the same year, the question of the
Church in Germany was again brought up, the states were
justified in assuming that the imperial instructions against
reform and enforcing the Edict of Worms were superseded
by other events, and that there could be no longer any
serious intention of doing a service to the Pope, whose
troops were already advancing against the Emperor. Nevertheless no resolution was passed by vote of the majority.
There was at first an attempt made on both sides to form
parties, but there was as yet no sharp division into majority
and minority; and the final decree enacted, in accordance
with the advice of the Committee, that in- the matter of
religion and the Edict of Worms " every state shall live,
rule, and believe so that it shall be ready to answer for
itself before God and his Imperial Majesty."
This decree has had most important results. Many things
occurred afterwards to modify it, but it was, in fact, the principle upon which the German national Church and the
modern states of Germany were developed. It is evident
that an imperial law which asserted the autonomy in matters




X o8    THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
of religion, not only of every ruler, but of every imperial
city and every imperial noble, would promote vast dissensions; and it is mainly this which has given rise to the dictum
that the Reformation laid the foundations of the disruption
of Germany, a dictum which is regarded as a truism to which
some assent as to an undeniable though melancholy fact,
and which others assert in a tone of bitter reproach.
The dictum is false; it is contradicted by history. The
disruption of the German empire existed long before the
Reformation took place; it was the result of processes which
had been going on for centuries, and was by no means the
effect of religious dissensions. If Germany had not been in
a state of disruption, the history of the German Reformation
from I521-26 would have been quite other than it was.
Had we had a compact German state at the time of the
Diet of Worms, the atrocious edict would never have been
smuggled in. No monarch of a really united Germany
would have adopted a resolution which was openly opposed
to the sentiments of the nation and to the opinion of the
majority of its states, both temporal and spiritual, and which
it was impossible to enforce.
But it may be justly said that the Reformation might have
given a powerful momentum to national unity. If in I52x1
we had had a monarch who would have settled accounts with
Rome, put an end to old sins in relation to her, and at the
same time had entered into the greatest movement of ideas
which had ever agitated our nation, unity might have been
inaugurated on a firmer basis and a grander scale than it
had been for centuries.
But the opportunity was lost, and never recurred. The
affairs of Germany took such a course that destiny but once
offered this enticing opportunity to the Emperor, and as it
was not seized, it was lost for ever. Two years later we hear
nothing more of the Emperor; the states decided for themselves, and in Qrder to prevent dissensions, agreed that the
pure doctrine of the gospel should be preached. Then came
the Revolution; the existence of the reigning princes was
threatened, first by the nobles and then by the peasants,
but in both contests the princes were victorious, and chose
to take advantage of their victory. They had long been
looking for a pretext for strengthening their power, and
embraced the opportunity which the Emperor had let slip,
The decree of Spire gave legal sanction to the attempt, but




NATIONAL DISRUPTION.               xog
this was not the consequence of the new doctrine, but of
ancient political developments which now had a decided
influence on its fate.  If this were not so, the Reformation
must have occasioned disruption everywhere, whereas in
other countries we find that it was precisely the contrary.
From this time Germany has not deviated from this
course. Every country decides the reform question in its
own way. Not that free individual development is permitted;
every country takes vigorous and sometimes arbitrary measures, while in other lands these are taken by a central
power. The hopes of those who thought that the decree of
August, 1526, would be a death-blow to the new doctrine
were utterly disappointed; it rather became the basis of a
greater extension of it. Saxony, Hesse, Anhalt, Franconia,
Liineburg, East Friesland, Schleswig-Holstein, Silesia, and
Prussia adopted the Reformation, as did also the important
imperial cities of Nuremberg, Augsburg, Ulm, Strasburg, &c.
The breach became irreparable. There was a Roman
Catholic party in South Germany, who gave up all thought
of reform, and another party for whom reform was an
accomplished fact, and who would no longer have anything
to do with the ancient Church: Austria, Bavaria, and the
South German bishoprics as a compact territory on one side;
on the other, less compactly grouped, a great part of ancient
Saxony, the ancient Frisian district, and the eastern colonies
of Germany, on what was formerly Slavonic territory; not
to mention the inhabitants of the imperial cities of the
North and South. The results of the decree of Spire began
to appear; it became more and more impossible for the
ancient Church to regain her former supremacy, but it was
also impossible for Protestantism to gain undisputed sway.
That the actual decision still remained for some years in
the balance is to be explained by another turn in the imperial
papal policy.
It is extremely curious to observe the attitude of the respective representatives of the papal and imperial dignity at
this crisis. While in Germany the consciences of men from
the highest to the lowest were stirred to their very depths,
not only were the Pope and Emperor strangers to any such
ideas, they acted against the simple and natural dictates of
policy. The Emperor was always seeking an untenable
alliance with the Pope, while repulsing his natural allies; and
the Pope continually overlooked the fact that his alliance




10     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
with the Emperor against the heretics would only advance
their cause.
In the peace of Madrid Charles V. and Francis I. joined
cause against the innovations in the empire, and futile as
the treaty was in all other respects, the Pope should have
tried to grasp it by this handle at any price.
If he could have succeeded in keeping the allies to this,
it would have been fearfully perilous for the German Re.
formation. Such a consideration, according to the views of
mediaeval Catholicism, should have been supreme with the
Pope. But Clement VII. was a Medici, and had been
schooled in the vacillating policy of the family, which had
always induced them to throw their weight into the scale
which threatened to be found wanting. Their fine principality, with its commanding position in the peninsula, must
be oppressed neither by the Germans nor the French, and
to this purely political consideration, which had nothing
to do with the Church, the Pope sacrificed ecclesiastical
unity.
He was the first to provoke war, and it was a curse to the
Church that her head had no insight into her real situation.
On the 22nd of May, I526, the treaty of Cognac was
entered into between Clement VII. and Francis I. against
the Emperor, whose supremacy ever since the battle of Pavia
had begun to be alarming. They tried to exact conditions
from the Emperor in favour of France and Italy to which it
was impossible for him to accede, and then to extort them
by force of arms.
In this position of affairs the Emperor wrote a remarkable
letter to the cardinals under date of October 6th, 1526,
which is printed by Lanz. He had heard that the Pope had
combined with the King of France to attack him. This was
the last thing he should have expected. "For I believe
there is no prince more devoted to the Romish Church than
I; witness Parma and Piacenza." He had borne the bitter
complaints of the German states and princes of the many
abuses in the court of Rome into the bargain. " The Pope,
therefore, does me a very great wrong, when I have done so
much for his sake, and have thereby alienated the princes of
the empire not a little."  He reminds them of the necessity
of peace at this critical moment for the Church, and of the
long-promised council. " If the Christian republic suffers
harm in consequence of a council not being convened ot




ALLIANCE AGAINST THE EMPEROR.    II 
longer delayed, I solemnly declare that I at least am not to
blame for it."
But these admonitions had no effect. Just when the
Emperor was offering his aid to France and the Pope to put
down the heretics, he received for answer a declaration of
war from both. So, as a commentary on the provisions in
the peace of Madrid against the enemies of the Pope, an
imperial army advanced towards Rome to call the head of
the Church to order with pikes and spears.
Early in 1527 a numerous army, such as had not been
seen within the memory of man, headed by Bourbon and
George Frundsberg, whose German soldiers marched with
real fanaticism against the Pope, appeared on the way to
Rome. The famishing mercenaries, among whom a dangerous mutiny broke out on the way, were eager to pounce
upon the treasures of Rome. On the 6th of May Bourbon led
them on to storm the Eternal City. Rome was defenceless,
and was taken by the Germans on the first assault. The
Pope had taken refuge at Engelsburg, and refused all the
enemy's demands, as he was in constant expectation of
succour from the French. The Spanish and German soldiers then betook themselves to plunder, and fell upon the
treasures in the palaces and churches. The booty was
immense, but was mostly soon frittered away. The Germans mocked at the sacred relics of Rome, and proclaimed
Luther as Pope.
Charles V. was master of the greater part of St. Peter's
patrimony, and intended to take permanent possession
of the States of the Church, in order to render the Pope's
temporal policy innocuous, when the Pope found an
unexpected ally in Henry VIII., and a French army
under Lautrec, subsidised by England, came to his aid.
The French arrived at Naples at the beginning of I 528.
Fortune now seemed to favour the allies. The Imperialists,
di iven to the sea, could not, in their perpetual want of money,
venture to incur any further risk, and in the summer it
appeared as if a great catastrophe must happen to the
imperial power, but at Naples fortune again turned the
scale in the Emperor's favour. While, within the city, the
Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, in spite of their great
distress, were uniting to make a desperate resistance, a
fearful pestilence attacked the French camp without the
walls, and so much insubordination ensued, that it prepared




1I     THE REFORMATION IN (iERMAN X.
the way for the utter annihilation of the army without a
blow having been struck, and some successful sallies of the
besieged gave k the finishing-stroke. Thus the kingdom of
Naples was as quickly lost to the French as it had been
won, and the allies never obtained a success which counterbalanced this defeat.
In the summer of I529 a reconciliation took place between the Emperor and the Pope. By the peace of Bar.
celona, of the 29th of June, the States of the Church, and
Florence, which had rebelled against him, were restored to
the Pope; he also received the assurance that the extermination of heresy should be now vigorously taken in hand.
In July of the same year the negotiations took place which
resulted in reconciliation with France at the peace of
Cambray.
Charles V. conceded more than might have been expected from the success of his arms. He gave up his demand
for Burgundy, and in consideration of a large ransom, released the French princes who were detained as hostages,
and no longer insisted on the impracticable conditions of
Madrid, while Francis had to give up his claims upon Italy
and his feudal sovereignty in Flanders and Artois. The
articles of Madrid against the heretics were renewed.
Peace was now restored to the Church and empire, but
on condition that Jeszifero morbo haereticorum should at
length be checked. Three years had indeed again passed
away, during which the new doctrine had made great pro.
gress, and churches had been organized in accordance with
it all over the country.




CHAPTER IX.
Reaction of Italian Affairs upon Germany.-Aggravation of the Stale
of Affairs by Otto von Pack.-Altered Relation of Parties. —The
Diet of Spire and the Protest of the Lutheran Party, April, 1529.
-The Turks before Vienna, I529.-Diet of Augsburg and the
Confession of Augsburg, June 25th, 1530. —Threats against the
Protestants; their first Meeting and League at Schmalkald, December, 153o-March, 153i.-Danger from the Turks, and the
Religious Peace of Nuremberg, July 23rd, I532.
IT cannot be denied that the position of the adherents of the
new doctrine was by no means safe or enviable.  They
had taken advantage of the decree of I526, which, however, according to the traditions of the Diet, was no decree
at all, and the question was whether the Emperor would not
reverse it as soon as it was in his power to do so; they
would then at once lose all legal standing, and be confronted with an inimical power.
The dreaded alliance between the Emperor, the Pope,
and the King had just been concluded, and it was not easy
to see how the Lutherans could stand against it.
The adherents of the Reformation had followed the
course of events in Italy with great anxiety. It is evident
that thev were in a state of excitement from the alarm occasioned by some communications from Otto von Pack.
Even in  528, when the war was near its close, outrages
were feared, and the most extraordinary stories gained
credit.
Otto von Pack, a dismissed minister of Duke George of
Saxony, had come to the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, and
told him that an infamous plot was brewing against him and
the Elector of Saxony. He stated that the Catholic Electors of Mayence and Brandenburg, the Dukes of Saxony
and Bavaria, and the Bishops of Salzburg, Bamberg, and
Wiirzburg, with King Ferdinand at their head, intended to
8




I 114   THE REORMATION IN GERMANY.
make a sudden attack upon them, to dispossess theln of
their lands, and draw over their subjects to the reactionary
Catholic party. He brought forward written proofs of it,
and both the Landgrave and the Elector gave credit to it.
Yet Pack was an adventurer whom it was not difficult to
suspect of the falsification of documents, and there was
nothing in the character of the accused princes, obstinate
adherents of the old faith as they were, to justify the opinion
that they were likely to make a nocturnal attack upon their
nearest kinsfolk, and drive them from their possessions and
subjects. It was, however, the circumstances of the times
which gave rise to fears of this sort.
In the year I529 one blow quickly followed another:
first, a dispatch from the Emperor, in which he coolly referred to the Edict of Worms of 152i, as if nothing fresh
had happened since; then the altered attitude of the Diet;
the reconciliation between the Emperor and the Pope,
which had been publicly confirmed; and finally the return
of the Emperor himself, who now came as a mighty ruler,
who had been most successful in war, had twice humbled
France, had conquered and then restored Italy, and who
now, in the height of his power and flower of his age, was
justified in imagining that he had but to command to attain
all that he desired.
The first signs of the change were the imperial warnings
to the Protestant states that in the spring the Emperor
would conclude peace, and put the penalties in force against
Luther and his followers. This was accompanied by threats
or flattery, according to circumstances; the smaller states
were threatened, and a tone of respect adopted towards the
larger.
On the 2ISt of February, 1529, the Diet assembled at
Spire.
The Emperor's plan was contained in an adrice, the purport of which was as follows: —The edict of 1521r is to be
held as still in force; the later ones, especially that of  526,
as null and void. Peace, which an attempt had been made
to purchase by concessions, had not been secured, nor any
restriction put upon the spread of the new doctrine; it
was therefore best to return to the edict of I52I, which
had been illegally departed from. This was the decided
proposal of the imperial commissioner on the xith of
March.




THE D)IET OF SPIRE.              115
It was now 1br the first time probable that this resolution
would be carried by a majority. There had been no prospect of it in 1523, and none in 1526, but the change was no
longer dubious. The mediating princes who had before
counselled both parties to peace, now went over to the
Emperor's side. The final decree enacted, in accordance
with the Emperor's advice, that "'whoever has hitherto
acted on the edict shall continue to do so. In those districts where it has not been observed no further innovations
shall be made, and no one shall be prevented from celebrating mass."
This sounded milder and more tolerant than it was meant
to be.* Those whom it concerned did not for a moment
doubt its meaning. But during the Diet there was an evident desire to proceed as peaceably as possible, and to
avoid exasperating the people. The majority informed the
minority, almost with regret, that the decision was unavoidable; the minority, with all due respect, regretted that they
could not acknowledge it.
On the g9th of April they entered a protest against the
final decree of the Diet; on the 22nd an appeal; and in
both cases they took their stand upon the modern principle
that religious matters could not be decided by majority
and minority, but only by the conscience. They desire
that the decree of 1526 shall be held valid, for otherwise
peace can scarcely be maintained. They cannot approve
adherence to the Edict of Worms, because they would
thereby condemn their own doctrines. They are ready to
render obedience to the Emperor in all things wherein it is
due, but these are things " which concern the glory of God
and the salvation of the soul of every one of us, and in
which, according to God's commands, and for the sake of
our own consciences, it is our bounden duty, before all
things, to have respect to the Lord our God;" and they
hope the Emperor " will kindly excuse this refusal."  The
decree of Spire of 1526 can only, "in accordance with
propriety, reason, and law, be annulled by a unanimous
resolution, and such this was not; but apart from that, in
matters relating to the glory of God and the salvation of
our souls, every one of us must stand before and give
account of himself to God."
See Ranke.




i16     THE  IFORMATION IN GERMANY.
This protest was signed by John of Saxony, George of
Brandenburg, Ernest of Liineburg, Philip of Hesse, Wolfgang of Anhalt; and then by the representatives of fourteen
cities-Strasburg, Nuremberg, Ulm, Costnitz, Lindau,
Memmingen, Kempten, N6rdlingen, Heilbronn, Reutlingen, Isny, St. Gall, Weissenburg, and Windsheim.
The position of affairs was materially aggravated by this
step. If the dreaded alliance now took place between the
great powers and the Pope, the gravest and most alarming
complications must be looked for. The Emperor made
himself ready to advance with an army to Germany. He
had just assured himself at Barcelona and Cambray of the
assistance of the Pope and the King of France, when the
capital of his Austrian dominions was menaced by the most
powerful army of Turks that -had ever been seen on the
Danube.
Suleiman, the last great martial ruler of the Osmanli,
with a just conception of the fundamental idea of a state
like Turkey, well knew that it was only amidst active warfare and conquest that such a people could be kept in a
healthy condition, and he poured his immense army-it was
computed at two hundred and fifty thousand men-like a
national migration over the German possessions of Charles V.
The old Osman spirit of warlike propaganda had revived.
All Christendom was to be subdued by the sword of the
Prophet, and the moment seemed favourable. The Church
was torn by bitter dissensions, just then coming to a decisive issue, and the monarch through whose dominions their
path lay was just making ready to strike a decisive blow at
the apostates.
It was an anxious moment, not only for the Emperor, but
for all the West. However little credit might be given to
the Turks for power to do much permanent mischief in the
invaded countries, yet the danger of seeing the culture of
the West even temporarily overrun by the Eastern barbarians was quite enough to throw all that divided
Christendom into the shade, and, menaced by a common
enemy, to cause it to unite its forces for a vigorous
resistance.'The terrible danger was averted by the heroic defence of
Vienna, and by the noble enthusiasm by which, in spite of
eccl!siastical schisms, Germany was animated. It was clear
that on this question there were no parties in Germany.




THE TURKS BEFORE VIENNA.              117
How angry the Reform party had been over the abuse
which the Curia had made of the threatened Turkish war!
But now that the danger was clothed in flesh- and blood,
they preached most zealously, Luther himself at their head,
in favour of combined resistance to the enemy as subjects of
the Emperor; and among the princes who were foremost in
making sacrifices for the cause were the leading adherents
of the new doctrine, especially the Landgrave Philip of
Hesse.
Vienna held out until the Sultan perceived that it would
be impossible to maintain his army in the exhausted
country, and with the remnant which alone, if he lingered,
famine and the winter season would leave him, to oppose
the brave: troops which were arriving from all sides.
After an attack on the walls of Vienna which utterly
failed, on the I4th of October, without being exactly
beaten, he was compelled to retire, and this was, in fact, the
most humiliating defeat which he could have suffered. He
had advanced so far unhindered, but he was forced to withdraw without any decisive engagement. This was a severe
reverse for the Turkish power.
The Emperor was thus unexpectedly relieved from deep
anxiety.  In those anxious September days, when the
Grand Turk had drawn up his forces in Charles's eastern
dominions, and the fate, not of Vienna alone, was in the
hands of the troops in his ill-fortified capital, he might well
be in doubt whether he ought not to forget Pope and
Chuich, heretics and all, and go to the aid of his threatened
heritage; but relief had come without his help, Vienna was
saved, the onslaught of the Turks had collapsed at the most
critical juncture, his star was once more in the ascendant,
and h igher than ever before.
Everything had been propitious to him. By a successful
campaign he had obtained peace with the Pope and the
King of France. He had vanquished the greatest military
power in Europe; the laurels of Francis I. had faded before
the martial glory of the young Emperor; the Grand Turk,
after some brilliant successes at first, had hastily retreated,
and now he was only opposed by the handful of German
princes and cities who had protested at Spire in 1529.
They were, it was true, resolved to sacrifice everything to
their conviccions; but how insignificant did their power
appear compared with that of the Emperor! And besides




118     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
this, they were too divided and disunited to withstand a
policy which l:ow for the first time seemed to have a
definite object in view.
Another attempt at conversion had been projected by the
allies at Barcelona; if that did not succeed, "the insult
offered to Christ" should be avenged by all possible means.
The Protestants were proof against conversion by threats,
intimidation, or flattery; but how would it, be if the
Emperor's threats were actually carried out?
On this point they were not agreed. Some had conscientious scruples against vigorous self-defence. There
was at first a conflict of duties, of which at a later period
we hear no more. While the worldly element in the party
had no doubt that force must be met by force, the theological leader of the party, Martin Luther, adhered firmly to
the opinion which he had always maintained, that spiritual
results can only be effected by spiritual means, that the
Word would only be established by the Word. "The
authorities," he says on the 28th of November, I529,
" are not to be withstood by violence, but by confession of
the truth; if they are converted by it, well; if not, thou art excused and sufferest for God's sake. We had ten times better
be dead than have it on our conscience that by our means
our gospel had been the occasion of blood and violence."
An armed resistance to the Emperor appeared to him,
with his mediaeval views, to be a criminal rebellion. It was
only with great reluctance and under pressure of necessity
that he gave up his respect for the imperial power and his
allegiance as a subject. It is not easy for us to form a just
idea of his views on this point. The greatness of soul which
they evince will be obvious to all, but it will also be obvious
that the views of a theologian on politics-that is, on the
subject of resistance to tangible forces-cannot be taken
as a rule of action.
To these differences between the men of action and the
men of doctrine a theological controversy was added. It
referred especially to the dogma of the Supper.
As early as 15 i9 Luther had decidedly dissented from the
Romish view of this sacrament.*  He rejected first the
withholding of the cup, and then the idea of sacrifice which
* See his "Sermon vom Hochw. Sacrament des heil wahres
Leichnams Christi," Erlangen Ausgabe.




TRANSUBSTANTIATION.               I  9
was bound t:p with the Roman Catholic doctrine; and, in
order that the Supper might not be regarded as a good work,
he rejected also the dogma of transubstantiation.
Instead of a direct transformation, he adopted the idea of
a sort of mystical presence of the Redeemer in the sacrament; and this, according to his teaching, had the same effect
as the Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation.*
In Switzerland another view had developed itself. Zwingli
could not believe in either of the two miracles; with his
unimpassioned way of looking at things, he could not understand these mystical ideas; he took the words, "This is
my body," to mean, "This signifies my body;" and he adduced a number of passages in support of his view, such as
" I am the vine," which must obviously be explained in this
manner. These were the differences which played a part in
the world's history, and divided the Protesiant camp when
absolute unity was more essential than ever.
In I529 warnings were not wanting from those who, with
just political insight, perceived that it would be disastrous
for the cause of reform if the free study of the Scriptures
was begun with dogmatical disputes, and if on the most
vital questions the party should divide. It was therefore
advised that some accommodating formula be sought for.
The Landgrave Philip took the greatest interest in it, for
personally he was more inclined to the views of Zwingli than
to those of his own theologians, and Melancthon, Bucer, and
others did all they could to bring about a reconciliation
with the Swiss, but in vain.
At length, at Michaelmas, 1529, a theological conference
was arranged at Marburg, where, at the instigation of Philip,
the Swiss and Saxon theologians met in order to agree upon
a formula. On some important points they came to an
understanding, but on the mystery of the real presence,
which was with Luther the main question, he prevented
their coming to any agreement. He kept to the words
which he wrote on the table before him, " This is my body."
The passionate intolerant spirit of the monk, of unyielding
ancient scholasticism which could brook no opposition, was
aroused in him; the simple temperate character of the Swiss
Reformer was repugnant to him, and he never overcame his
distrust of him and his doctrines. Luther refused all inter~ Schenkel, Wesen des Protestantismum




1 20    THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
course with him, and allowed himself to say many things
which he could not maintain, and which he himself regretted
on reflection. Zwingli and his followers preserved a far more
gentle and conciliatory tone towards him.
Upper Germany, Swabia, and Switzerland adopted Zwingli's view. Some of the imperial cities were inclined to
it, and Philip of Hesse did not conceal that he thought it
more natural and tenable, though he was prudent enough
not to press it.
Protestantism was thus divided not only on the great
question of resistance to the Catholic reaction, but divided
amongst itself. There were two distinct camps, either of
which might perhaps say, in the first moment of danger,
" What are the others to us? Let us wait and see what
happens."
In May, I530, Charles came to Germany. He had just
put the finishing-stroke at Bologna to the peace which was
to reconstitute Italy, and had confirmed his reconciliation
with the Pope by his solemn coronation. There also, doubtless, the final conferences took place about the Church and
the heretics. Judging from circumstances, we may conclude
that Pope and Emperor were agreed that the obstinate
apostates must be made to return to the bosom of the
Church. But there their opinions diverged. Clement VII.
and his successors thought that sufficient. The only reform
of which they had any idea was the restoration of the lost
unity under their rule, by whatever means it might be
brought about. But Charles V. was of opinion that when
the outward breaches were restored, internal security should
be given by a general council which should accede to
the justifiable demands for Church reform. If this was
the alternative, the Pope would sooner submit to the
continuance of heresy, to the defection from the Church
of one hundred thousand souls, than consent to a repetition
of the stormy Councils of Costnitz and Basle, which haunted
the memory of the Curia like spectres.
Then came the Diet of Augsburg. Germany had not
witnessed so brilliant a one for centuries. The German
empire shone once more in its medimval splendour. And
how different was the Emperor's arrival now from that when
he came up the Rhine to Worms! He was then known
only as Maximilian's grandson; now the world was ringing
with his exploits. Twice he had humbled the pride of the




THE DIET 01F AUGSBURG.              121
conqueror of Marignano, he had compelled both Francis and
the Pope to enter into treaty with him, his generals and
statesmen had been everywhere victorious, and the glory of
their deeds was reflected upon him. It was perfectly natural
that in the pride of these successes, and after France and
Italy had submitted to him, he should imagine that he could
adjust the affairs of Germany with a word.
Ite made his entry into Augsburg with extraordinary
potnp. He was not fond of show in general, but this time
he wanted to dazzle men's eyes. He wished that both
friend and foe should feel that he was Emperor; that, in the
old sense of the word, he was ruler of the world and
guardian of the Church; and when he was solemnly brought
in by the princes of the empire who had loyally gone forth
to meet him, his first act was to summon to his presence
the protesting princes of Saxony, Brandenburg, Liineburg,
and Hesse.
In a not unfriendly, but very decided tone, he informed
them through his brother that the toleration of the Lutheran
preaching and the observance of the modern forms of worship must cease; the rest would follow. He had no idea
that it would not suffice to issue this command; the princes
would submit, as far greater powers had submitted. There
was no fear then of political opposition; it was different
in the next generation, but this one was free from all suspicion
of disloyalty to the imperial house.
Frederic the Wise had been foremost among the promoters of the election of Charles as emperor; his successor
John, and Philip of Hesse, had distinguished themselves
by their zealous and faithful services against the Turks;
and the old Margrave, George of Brandenburg-Ansbach,
had grown grey in the Emperor's service, whom, with
the dutiful spirit of a vassal, lie always regarded as his
supreme lord. Nothing but the gravest questions of conscience could induce such men to resist their imperial
master.
They unanimously declared, and as decidedly as he had
demanded obedience, that they could not obey; these were
matters of conscience, and in matters of conscience the
Empreror's mandate had no power. The Landgrave Philip
began at once to prove the doctrine of justification by faith
frotm St. Augustine and the New Testament, but that was
an aspect of the business with which the Emperor was not




122     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
at home, and he impatiently and angrily interrupted him by
reiterating his command. The aged Margrave of Branden.
burg then threw himself on his knees before him, and
exclaimed, "I would sooner lose my head than God's
Word."
This moved the Emperor deeply. His well-known answer,
"Dear Prince, no heads off" (Lieber Fiirst, nicht K6pfe ab),*
implies that he shuddered at the precipices to which this
path might lead him.
Thus the first assault, which he had hoped would have
been enough to intimidate the princes, was repulsed; the
Lutheran service was solemnly celebrated in the quarters,
so called, of the princes and the lodgings of the wealthy
patricians; and when, on the following day, there was a
procession of the festival of Corpus Christi, the protesting
princes declined the invitation to attend it. So little had
the Emperor been able to accomplish with the professors
of the new doctrine, even with his personal presence and
all the pomp of his retinue.
The Emperor then desired that an abstract of the differences between the two doctrines should be laid before him.
They were prepared for this in the circle of the allied princes;
they had been preparing for it ever since the Diet had been
convened; and in a very short time a statement of the
doctrinal differences was committed to paper, and handed
to the Emperor on the 25th of June, 1530. This was afterwards called the Confession of Augsburg.
The differences between the old doctrine and the new
were unfolded in this document as mildly and dispassionately as possible, and the teaching of justification in
the latter, as might be expected from  Melancthon, was
delicately and skilfully explained.
This was answered by the Roman Catholic theologians
of the other side who had accompanied their princes, as the
Protestants had theirs. Luther was not present. As under
sentence of excommunication he would not give the challenge of appearing in person in the place where the validity
of the ban was to be discussed; but he was at Coburg, and
carried on a brisk correspondence with his party.
The negotiations set on foot by the Emperor did not
lead to any reconciliation.  Besides the wide differences
* Ranke




THE LEAGUE OF SCHMALKALD.              123
between the parties, the Emperor was partly to blame for
this, for though he wished to mediate, he would not enter
into any discussion of the question of conscience; and
though he was less violent in his opinions than his spiritual
and temporal advisers, as guardian of the Church he expected blind obedience; and the most favourable terms he
could propose were that until he should arrange the promised council with Rome, the Protestants should submit
to the Pope!
The final decree of the Diet stated, with offensive severity,
that the Protestants would have till the next spring to consider whether they would voluntarily return; and the Emperor
added that if they did not accept this decree, measures
must be taken for the extermination of this seclt without
delay.
Under the impression of these threats, at Christmas,
I530, the Protestant princes assembled for conference at
Schmalkald. Their first object was to determine what position they should take towards the imperial court, should
steps be taken to carry out the Augsburg decree, and it
resulted in the formation of the armed League of Schmalkald
in March of the following year.
They had previously come to an agreement with Luther
on the question of resistance, should it become necessary.
It was not without a struggle that he consented that the
Protestants should have the right of self-defence.
The execution of the decree of the Diet, announced for
the spring'of 153i, did not take place. If, in spite of the
advice of Loysa, who said of the heretics that " it was not
a question of saving the souls of the dogs, but of compelling
their bodies to obedience," they had hesitated to proceed
against them in July and August, 1530, when they were not
a united body, there was much more reason to hesitate now
that they were so, especially as the situation of affairs was
also changed.
The peace with France showed itself to be more than
insecure; the Turks were preparing to avenge their disgrace
in I529; the Emperor's hereditary foes were busy both in
the East and the West. Would the empire itself be entirely
at his disposal if he proceeded to punish the Protestants?
His cherished scheme, that his brother Ferdinand should
be elected King of Germany, met with opposition, even in
the Catholic camp. The house of Bavaria especially, which




124     THIE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
had secretly hoped to attain this dignity for itself, complained
of the undue supremacy of the house of Hapsburg, and
afterwards made proposals to come to an understanding
with the League of Schmalkald.  If Charles, therefore,
entered into a conflict with the Protestants, he would have
not only his enemies from without to fear, but must look
for opposition-or at all events could hope for no assistance
-from the Catholic princes of his own camp.
Thus everything concurred to incline him to peace. He
had been seriously thinking of a peace since the summer of
1531; negotiations were opened, and all prospect having
disappeared of coming to any peaceable settlement with the
Turks, on the 23rd of July, 1532, the peace of Nuremberg
was concluded, in which both parties made concessions in
order to unite in vigorous resistance against the Turks.
The finest army which the united forces of Christendom
had ever assembled marched against the Turks, who did
not venture on any decisive engagemevt.   A fter several
minor defeats they evacuated the field without a battle, as'a t sz.




PARt I't.
THE REFORMATION IN THE OTHER GERMANIC
SrATES; IN SWITZERLAND, DENMARK, SWEDEN,
AND ENGLAND.
CHAPTER X
AIRE REi'ORMATIONN IN SWITZERLAND.*
E.arly Life and Mental Development of Ullich Zwingli, I40a 1  t 9-.
Study of the Classics.-Curate at Glarus, I506-16.-St:l;y o1 tSg
New Testament. —Sermon against the Desertion of thair Count"
by the Swiss.-Labours at Einsiedeln, I5S6-i8.-Call to Zurich.
-The Reformation at Zurich, I59-25. —Zwingli's Sermons in
the Great Cathedral.-Decree of the Council of I52o.-The Sixty.
seven Articles of 1523.-Progress of Reform.-Reformed Zurich
and Switzerland in 1526-3I.
EARLY LIFE AND MENTAL DEVELOPMENT OF
ULRICH ZWINGLI.
W   E  have already alluded to Ulrich Zwingli on the
occasion of the religious conference at Marburg,
and shall now make closer acquaintance with him.
The suspicious dislike with which Luther regarded him,
and which prevented any intimacy between them, was also
mentioned.
They were indeed as widely different in character, origin,
* Bullinger, Reformations Geschichte Fraucnf., 1838. Hottinger,
Helvet. Kirchengeschichte, I7O8. L. Wirz, Neuere Helvet. Kirchengeschichte, Zurich, I8I3.  Joh. v. Muiller's und Glutz-Blotzheim's
Geschichte Schweiz. Eidgenossenschaft, fortgesetz von Hottinger,
Zurich, 1825.  Ulr. Zwingli Opera, 1544, und Zwingli's Werke.
Herausg. von Schuler und Schulthess, Zurich, I828. Zwingli's Leben
von Hess, Zurich, I81I.  Sigwart, Ulr. Zwingli, Hamburg, I855.
Rbder, Ulrich Zwingli, St. Gallen, i855.




126   THE REFORMATION IN SWITZERLAND.
and education as two men between whom there was any
mental relationship well could be.
They were both the sons of peasants; but the parents of
one are so poor that, with all their laudable ambition to
make something out of their talented son, they are not able
to educate him without aid from strangers; the parents of
the other are well-to-do, respectable people, whose children
have no need to sing for their bread. The childhood of the
one is rich in bitter experiences-he was often obliged " to
suffer and hold his peace;" the other grew up as the child
of the chief man of his native village, and early learnt to
feel and act with the independence of a young republican of
good standing. The monkish melancholy of the one leads
him to adopt a monastic life, the other takes a keen and
lively interest in the affairs of the world; the one becomes a
disciple of the mystics and the fathers of the Church, the other
of, the Humanists and the sages of antiquity. Both leave the
Church, but the one amidst conflicts which the other never
knew-Luther, because he was more true to the Church
than she was to herself; Zwingli, because, almost like a
Humanist critic, he compared the false Church with the true,
and found their differences irreconcilable.
Ulrich Zwingli- was born on the ISt of January, I484, at
Wildhaus, in the district of Toggenburg, and was the son of
the magistrate (Amtmann) of the little community. Insignificant as the little commonwealth was, its inhabitants bore
a sturdy, independent character. Under the dreaded Crosier
of St. Gall, they had freed themselves from the burdens of the
feudal system, and Zwingli's father had been their courageous
spokesman. The straightforward simplicity, cool practical
sense, and ready wit of a simple race of mountaineers pervaded the house in which the future Reformer grew up, like
a fresh Alpine breeze.  He never knew anything of the
tendency to mysticism which early weighed upon Luther's
soul. He received his first instruction from his uncle, who
was Dean at Wesen, and then went to Basle and Berne, in
order to acquire the elements of classical learning.
In free Switzerland, that connecting-link between Italy
and North Germany, the Humanistic studies had early taken
root, and had given rise to a decided ecclesiastical liberality.
This had great influence on Zwingli's early culture.
Heinrich W61fin, or Lupulus, as he called himself, the
talented founder of the classical schools in Switzerland, was




ULRICH ZWINGLI.                12 7
Zwingli's instructor at Berne, and his teacher and model at
Basle was the courageous theologian, Thomas Wittenbach,
who ventured openly to preach "that the whole system of
indulgences is a delusion; Christ alone paid the ransom for
the sins of mankind." The state of mind of the superior
circles, both with regard to learning and religion, prepared
them for independent attempts at reform, and Zwingli was
right when he afterwards said to his accusers, " All deference
to Martin Luther, but what we have in common with him
was our conviction before we knew his name."
In 1499, at the age of fifteen, Zwingli went to the university of Vienna, having positively declined the proposals of
the Dominicans of Berne, who wanted to make a monk of
him. Well schooled in all Humanist accomplishments, such
as modern Latin prose and poetry, he returned to Basle,
where Wittenbach exercised so powerful an influence over
him that he resolved to devote himself entirely to theology.
In 1506 he obtained the degree of M.A. in the liberal arts,
and in the same year he was chosen curate of the congregation at Glarus.
At Glarus his labours were manifold and uninterrupted
for ten years, and he continued to cultivate his mind. It was
here that he first pursued those deeper studies which the
importance of his subsequent vocation demanded, and
amidst which he ripened into manhood. It was here also
that he became conscious of the political and national
grievances of his country, the redress of which he desired as
ardently as he did the reform of the Church. The contrast
between the course of his studies and those of Luther is
remarkable. His early letters are the letters of a Humanist,
whose vocation is the Church, but whose heart belonged to
the great spirits of antiquity; he orders editions of Cicero,
Sallust, Seneca, Valerius Maximus, Horace, heartily rejoices
at the blows which the enemies of the light (Dunkelmanner)
at Vienna, Basle, and Paris have received from the humanistic free-thinkers, and instructs some of his young countrymen in his house with so much success that even an Erasmus
does not refuse his admiring recognition of it. With the
study of Greek, which he now first took up in earnest, a new
world was opened to him; he studied the Greek grammar of
Chrysoloras with eager zeal, and wrote to a friend: " Nothing
but God shall prevent me from acquiring Greek, not for fame,
but for the sake of the Holy Scriptures."




128   THE REFORMATION  IN SWITZERLAND.
He read Plato, Lucian, Homer, Pindar, with delight, and
the New Testament, in order, as he says, that he might "study
the doctrine of Christ from the original source." He copied
the Pauline Epistles in the original, and made explanatory
notes in the margin, and learnt them word for word by heart.
The copy is still extant. He thus arrived at the choked-up
springs of revelation, in which Luther at length found consolation at Erfurt, but not as he did by the circuitous paths
of scholasticism, mysticism, and the fathers, but from the
soul-purifying study of the Scriptures. By the true text he
tested the doctrines of ancient and modern Christian
thinkers, both of the celebrated fathers of the Church and
the learned heretics, and thus he gradually formed a system
of conviction independently, and firmly took his stand upon
it as a Reformer.
Such ecclesiastics were as scarce in Switzerland as anywhere else. At a meeting of all the deans of the Confederation, it was found, as Bullinger says, that not more than
three were at home in the Bible; all the rest confessed that
they had never even read the New Testament through.
Here as elsewhere the clergy wMere utterly sunk in luxury and
hypocrisy; the preaching of the ill-educated consisted of
second-hand clerical twaddle, that of the more educated of
dry scholasticism.
Zwingli's mental alienation from the ancient Church is even
at this time evident from the spirit and tendency of his sermons, but it was years before the breach took place. Meanwhile he twice accompanied his warlike countrymen as army
preacher to Italy: the first time, in 15IZ, he witnessed the
triumphal march of'the Swiss through Lombardy; the second
time, in 1515, he witnessed the ignominious end of the brilliant army which the Swiss had raised for foreign pay; he
saw how some of them, bribed by the French, left their
countrymen in the lurch before the enemy, and how the rest,
dispirited and at variance among themselves, were beaten at
Marignano. During the hopeless days before the battle, the
young preacher appealed to the consciences of his countrymen, spoke of the curse of their desertion of their country,
the decline of ancient discipline, and Swiss military honour.
He thus touched upon the most incurable disease of the
Confederation; the country had been the recruiting-ground
for Emperor, King, and Pope, in their perpetual struggle for
Lombardy.  The inhabitants of towns and villages and




ULRTCH ZWINGLI.                 1 29
whole cantons were in the pay of one foreign power or
another, and for ready money they gave up their youth fit
for military service to fight under foreign colours. The confederates changed their colours according to the sums
offered; peoplie were on one side one day, on the other
the next; in short, it was a disgraceful traffic, ruinous to the
honour and faith of the people, and every honest patriot was
deeply ashamed of it.
I't was advantageous to the cause of Church reform that
the papal policy could not dispense with the Swiss renegades. Rome looked on for years at the proceedings of the
innovators, hoping to come to terms with them that they
might not be deprived of this support.
From I5i6-I8 we find Zwingli as curate at Einsiedeln,
an abbey which was then in the hands of a free-thinker,
whilst the place itself, with its wonder-working image in St.
Meinrad's cell, was a centre of gross superstition. It was
here that Zwingli began to preach the gospel. The new
curate ventured to tell the thousands of pilgrims, who were
seeking healing for their bodies or pardon for their sins, of
a forgiveness of sins which was to be obtained not by pilgrimages or empty vows, nor by holy altars and miraculous
images, but by amendment of heart and life, by sincere
repentance and moral reforms. " Do you think," he said,
" that those elect of God to whose feet you are flocking
attained the glory of heaven by the merits of others? No;
it was by keeping to the paths of the law, by subjection to
the will of the Highest, and by devotion to their Saviour
unto death. Let the holiness of their lives be an example
to you, walk in their footsteps, be not turned aside by
danger or temptation; you will thus prove yourselves
worthy. In the day of trouble, put your whole trust in
God-upon Him who created the heavens and the earth.
In the hour of death, call upon Jesus Christ alone, who
bought you with His blood, and is the only mediator between God and man." *
This sermon excited a vast deal of attention. The orthodox shook their heads; the liberal already recognised
Zwingli as their most talented spokesman; they encouraged
him by letters, and many great schemes were propoinded
here. Attention was also aroused at Rome, and b1 Ipl8
Bullinger.




130 TILE REFORMATION IN SWITZERLAND.
the legate Pucci sought to divert Zwingli to the interests of
the Curia by smothering him with favours and flatteries.
Zwingli was still within the folds of the Church, in whose
house there were certainly many mansions, and with honest
zeal he tried to awaken the spirit of reform within her, and
to induce her herself to exercise her authority in putting an
end to the most flagrant abuses. It was not till he had
found all admonitions vain that, like Luther, he came to an
open rupture with her. In a letter to a friend, in 1525, he
gave an accoL nt of the many representations he had made
in private to cardinals, bishops, and prelates, that they
" must begin to reform abuses, or they would come to an
end themselves with far greater commotion." But it had
been all in vain, and he could say with a good conscience,
" I have never done anything in holes and corners like a
thief, but have always given timely warning, and have had
an answer for all men."
The Church was already on the threshold of that transition period when it had become impracticable to distinguish
between usage and abuse, faith and superstition, at least for
those who had no wish to do so if they had the power. The
grievance of indulgences existed also in Switzerland. No
sensible man ventured to defend it, but it clung to the system like an incurable canker.
THE REFORMATION AT ZURICH, I519-25.
Zwingli was curate at Zurich when Tetzel's Swiss counterpart, Bernhardin Samson, proposed to bring his shameless
indulgence shop thither from the Forest Cantons. Zwingli
prevailed with the Diet then sitting to send the barefooted
friar out of the country; and Rome was still so intent on
keeping on good terms with the Swiss Confederation, that
the episcopal vicar praised him in a letter " for driving
the strange wolf from the flock."
From the beginning of i5I9 Zwingli had been giving a
course of sermons, in the great cathedral of Zurich, on the
interpretation of the gospel. He treated of Matthew, the
Acts, the Pauline Epistles, "in simple Swiss language,"
and taught justification through faith in the Saviour, as he
had learnt it from these sources. He also spoke against
" superstition, bigotry, and hypocrisy," rebuked the vices of
individuals as well as the general decline of moral disci



THE REFORMATION AT ZURICH.               131
pline, spoke of the abuses in the Church, the degenerate
spirit of the cantons, their injustice to the weak and obsequiousness to the great, and mourned over the loss of the
freedom  and glory of the Confederation, through party
dissensions, desertion of their country by the inhabitants,
pensions, and bulls. Zwingli preached the word like a
native orator; his language was simple, but deeply impressive, for it glowed with profound conviction, and it therefore powerfully affected even those who did not share his
views. People who felt that his woids were applicable to
themselves thought he was aiming specially at them, when
he would say, " Good man, take it not to thyself." Those
who had kept away from preaching and the church for
years said, "This is a real preacher of the truth; he will
tell us how things really are;" and honest Thomas Plater,
a travelling scholar, said that when listening to Zwingli's sermon on John x., " I am the good Shepherd," " he felt as
if some one was pulling him by the hair."
Just at this period a war was in prospect about the Duchy
of Milan, and again came the French "sack of crownpieces " to bribe Swiss soldiers.  All the Confederation
took the side of Francis I.; Zurich alone declined all overtures, so great had been the effect of Zwingli's admonitions.
This was in May, 152I. But when the ambassadors of
the Pope and Emperor arrived, and the former demanded
troops, by right of ancient treaties, to defend the States
of the Church, Zwingli was vanquished.  It was now that
he first began to say bitter things against the Pope. His
patriotism was touched, and he saw all the grievances of his
country summed up in this pernicious desertion of it. " I
wislh," he said, among other things, " that they had bored
a hole in the Pope's letter, and hung it to his messenger's
back, that he might carry it home.  If a wolf is see:. in
the country, you sound an alarm that it may be caught; but
you will not defend yourselves from the wolves that ruin the
bodies and souls of men. How appropriate are their red
hats and cloaks! If you shake them, out fall ducats; if
you wring them, out flows the blood of your sons, brothers,
and friends i"
Zwingli's opponents now began to be more bitter; both
political and ecclesiastical er emies began to revile this other
Luther, and to stir up the people and the congregations
against him; it went so far that his life was hardly safe, so




132   THE REFORMATION IN 3WITZERLAND.
that the council placed a guard before his door, and when
he went out in the evening a body of young men accompanied him as a volunteer guard. In the same year the
Vapal Legate demanded that Luther's works in Switzerland
should be burnt, and his followers exterminated.  The
Diet obeyed, and set house to house visitations on foot,
especially at Lucerne, in search of the forbidden books.
"All that is scribbled over," said the agent of the Council
of Lucerne, "is Lutheran, and is to be burnt."  With these
words he seized Erasmus's Greek edition of the New Testament to burn it.
The Council of Zurich found out how to rob the Edict of
its sting; the mandate which it put forth in 1520, in
apparent accordance with the decree of the Diet, in reality
gave free scope to the forbidden doctrine. It ordained that
all curates, pastors, and preachers, as is also declared by
the papal laws, "are to preach the holy Gospels and Epistles
agreeably to the Spirit of God, and the foly Scriptures of the
Old and New Testamnent, to keep to what they receive from
and is proved by the aforesaid Scriptures, and not to teach
any adventitious innovations or dogmas." 
In accordance with the principles of this decree, the
cause of reform might progress unhindered.  Since the
heads of the Church had declined to abolish grievous abuses,
the communities began to do it for themselves, and the
spirit and tendency of the Swiss Reformation are indicated
by the fact, that they began by abolishing outward forms
which had become empty and mneaningless, instead of, as
Luther had done, pressing for a decision on the deepest
principles of the Christian faith.
Scarcely had Zwingli proved the absurdity of the rules
about fasting than some of his followers treated the prohibition of certain kinds of food in Lent as no longer binding,
and used them without buying dispensations or indulgences,
which was all they could be blamed for. The suffragan
Bishop of Constance brought an accusation against them
before the council. Zwingli was heard, and, to the confusion
of his adversaries, appealed to the plain words of the Apostle
Paul to Timothy, that "every creature of God is good, and
nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving: for
it is sanctified by the w ord of God and prayer." t  He pub* R6der.               t X Timothy iv. 4, 5.




DECREE OF THE COUNCIL OF ZURICH.   133
lished the sermon which had given so much offence, and
the contents of this, his first publication, may be thus
summed up: " If thou art disposed to fast, do so; if thou
wishest to eat meat, eat it; but allow the Christian his
liberty."
The clamour which the monks everywhere raised against
it, put an end to a decree which, still more clearly than that
of 1520, favoured preaching according to the Scriptures, to
the exclusion of the scholastic expositors.
Zwingli continued to preach in the same spirit.  The
misfortunes of the Swiss renegades at Bicocca again incited
him to warn the "dear honourable people of Switzerland
against taking pay from foreign masters who will ruin us;"
and in August, I522, he published a new and complete
work, in sixty-nine articles, against the orthodox party.
After the victory on the subject of fasting followed the
storm about the celibacy of the clergy. The fearful immorality resulting from the prohibition of marriage is evident
from two facts to which Zwingli refers in his address to the
Bishop of Constance-first, that the bishops formally impose
taxes on the concubines and illegitimate children of the
clergy; and, secondly, that, according to an ancient usage,
many Swiss congregations require, for the sake of peace
and the honour of families, that a newly appointed priest
shall "keep a concubine for himself in his house." It was
necessary that for once the truth on this subject should be
plainly and honestly spoken, and this Zwingli did in a petition signed by many others, addressed to the Bishop of
Constance, and in a second letter to the same.
In spite of all this Pope Adrian VI. made another attempt
to make a favourable impression on the brave Swiss, or, as
the latter somewhat coarsely expressed it, to "uncouple"
him. But Zwingli was now urgent for a decision. He prevailed upon the Council of Zurich to arrange a public
discussion, in order that, Bible in hand,. he.might measure
his strength with his opponents. The council consented,
and appointed it for the 23rd of January, I523. Zwingli had
previously drawn up a full confession of faith in sixty-seven
theses, which contain the outline of his views of life and
religion. The fundamental principle of it shows the marked
difference between him and Luther.  Zwingli's endeavour
was to exclude everything from the Church and the faith
which could not be justified from Scripture, inst.ad of, like




134   THE REFORMATION IN SWITZERLAND.
Luther, to maintain all that was not expressly contradicted
in Scripture.
Thus he says, in reference to the gospel: "They are in
error and blaspheme who ascribe no authority to the gospel,
unless it is confirmed by the authority of the Church;"
he speaks of Jesus as " the only guide and captain of salvation, he who seeks or points out any other door is a thief
and a robber;" of the Papacy, "Christ is the only and
eternal high priest; from this it follows that those who have
given themselves out for high priests are rejecting the glory
and authority of Christ;" of the clerical garb, " Nothing is,
more displeasing to God than hypocrisy, it follows therefore that everything which assumes sanctity in the sight of
men is hypocrisy and folly; this condemns cowls, symbols,
and tonsures;" of sects and orders, "All men are brothers
in Christ and brothers one to another; therefore they should
not exalt any man to be their father upon earth; this condemns sects, orders, and factions;" of celibacy, " When the
clergy feel that God has denied them the gift of continence,
and do not marry, they commit sin;" of government,
" There is no ecclesiastical but only secular government,
to which all Christians without exception owe allegiance,
unless it enjoins what is contrary to God's will; if it does
this, it may be deposed with God's help;" of purgatory,
"The Holy Scriptures say nothing about purgatory after
death;" of the abolition of abuses, "The ecclesiastical
rulers must hasten to humble themselves before God, and
they should set up the cross of Christ, not the box for
offerings, or their end is drawing near; the axe is laid to
the root of the trees." In conclusion, he says, " Let no one
undertake to discuss these subjects in a sophistical and
trifling spirit, but bring the Scriptures as the test, that the
truth may be discovered, or if, as I hope, it is already
discovered, that it may be maintained. Amen. May God
grant it!"*
The discussion took a disastrous course for Zwingli's
opponents. Six hundred people had assembled to hear the
debate on religion. Zwingli opened it with a short address,
which closed with the words, "Now then, in God's name,
here I am." The episcopal vicar, who spoke next, spoke of
everything except Zwingli's theses, promised a council and a
* R6der, Gieseler.




PROGRESS OF REFORM.                 135
decision by tle bishops, prelates, &c. When asked to prove
the charge. of heresy from the Scriptures, he persisted in
silence, and on the afternoon of the 29th of January the
council was justified in stating, that as no one had appeared'to convict Master Ulrich Zwingli of error, it earnestly desired
that he should continue to procla m and'preach? the holy
doctrines of the gospel and the precepts of the Holy
Scriptures in accordance with the Spirit of God, as-he. had
hitherto done." The same wast to apply to all other ministers
of the divine word, and abuse and slander.were forbidden
under heavy penalties.
By this resolution Zurich separated itself from the bishopric
of Constance; the congregation of the faithful took possession of the rights which Zwingli's constitution of the
Church assigned to it; the ecclesiastical authority, which he
held to be an illegal assumption of power.on the.part of
the heads of the Church, was practically abjured, and the
foundation-stone was laid of his Church polity, the absolute
power of the congregation.
And now the innovations which were'based upon this
principle followed step by step; the mother tongue sup.
planted Latin in prayers and the baptismal and marriage
services; the incomes of chapters and'ionasteries were,
applied to purposes of education both for' the lower and
higher classes, the cells of monks and nuns: were set open,
priests entered into holy matrimony, the abolition of the
mass and image-worship, as part of the same system, followed.
On the 26th of January, I524, the Diet passed a resolution
at Lucerne against the reforms; in March messengers from
the twelve districts app.eared before the Council of Zurich
and remonstrated, but Zurich and its communes remained
firm, and after the spring of I524 took a new and more
decided course. Processions and the festival of: Corpus
Christi were abolished, the shrines were opened, the bones
buried, the organs reinoved from, the churches, tolling for
the dead and ringing for mass, the benedi tiii of palms,. salt,
water, ashes and tapers, and the last unction were done
away with,'and the administration of the Holy Supper, in
both kinds was celebrated by a solemn communion of all
the reformeqd congregations on Maundy Thursday, x525.




i3 6  THE  REFORMATION IN SWITZERLAND.
REFORMED ZURICH -AND SWITZERLAND.
Amidst the repeated attempts of the'orthodox party to
incite the whole Confederation to oppose the heretics at
Zurich, the Confederation, had separated into'two camps,
and the heresy which was to be exterminated had spread its
roots far and wide beyond' Zurich, and had allied itself with
political and intellectual movemefits of.all sorts.  The
educated citizens in the larger cities of Basle, Berne, and
Schafflausen, and the country-people in Appenzell, Glamus,
and the Grisons, who hiad been prepared for the" new
doctrine by liberal preachers, resisted all attempts to put it
down by force, and it was only in the five Forest Cantons of
Lucerne, Zug, Schwyz, Uri,-and Unterwalden,-to which Freiburg and the Valais joined themselves, that the orthodox
party kept strictly together.  It'had its seat, generally
speaking, in the patrician oligarchies, whose dominion and
richest sources of income would be dried up if religious
democracy prevailed, and if papal pensions and favours
came to an end, while all persons of democratic tendencies
in town and country naturally took the side of reform.
The tendencies of the dependencies or common territories
were mainly determined by the chief places in them; in
Thurgau, the Rhine Valley, Aargau, and the free corporations, through the influence of Zurich, St. Gall, and Berne,
the Reformation prevailed; while Sargans, Gaster, Uznacli,
Baden, the greater part of the Forest Cantons, the Italian
dependencies (now the canton of Tessin), Beltlin, Bormio -
and Chiavenna, after a little vacillation, adhered entirely tO
the ancient Church.
Thus in this case the course of political and ecclesiastical
affairs coincided, and Zwingli's position was from the first
different from that of Luther;  Luther kept strictly within
the limits of pure Church reform. In the existing situation'of
affairs in Germany this was, certainly the more modest as
well as the more prudent course, but it was not possible in
the little commonwealth of Switzerland.
The way in which Zwingii apprehended the necessities of
his position indicates his great superiority of mind. Having
established the Church on the basis of thy congregation, he
entertained similar projects with regard to the State, not
only in relation to the individual commonwealths of the




ZURICH TAND       TZERLAN.            137
cantons, but the great commonwealth of the Confedera.
tion.
It was he who first entertained the great idea of giving a
general constitution to the Swiss cantons, similar to the
representative democracy, which has after three centuries
been realised; of putting an end- to the unnatural supre
macy of the small Forest Cantons, of depriving the prefects
of their jurisdiction, and of giving to the larger cantons the
position to which they were entitled by their extent, power,
property, and culture. The system of equalisation, by which
the five Forest Cantons had as many seats and votes in the
Diet as the larger bnes, was a political absurdity.  It is
only in our times that this~has been altered. Zwingli was the
greatest'political'as well as ecclesiastical reformer whom
Switzerland has everseen. His ideas mnay be said to have
triumphed in the constitution adopted in Switzerland about
ten years ago.*
This formed one of the most powerful levers of'his propaganda, but it was also the main cause of the animosity of
his opponents. For the Forest Cantons it was a question of
existence; the erroneous doctrines were in their eyes revolution and anarchy; opposition to the ancient Church was also
opposition to the existing government,.with which they must
stand or fall.
The victory which the democratic reform party gained at
B3erne over the oligarchy was a decisive event. The religious controversies had roused the masses out of their
passive traditional obedience, at the elections of I527 the
Reformers broke through the compact phalanx of the oligarchy in the great council, and the masses demanded the
rights of which they had been deprived for the last twenty
years, and instituted a solemn religious discussion at the beginning of I528. The doctrines of Zwingli again obtained a
great victory; it resulted not only in, a general attack upon the
pictures and images of saints in the.churches, but in an entire
revolution in the State; the two councils, instead of being
filled up in a brotherly manner by each other, were formed
upon thd elective rights of the reformed communities, and
the scandal of the pensions which had hitherto connected
all the great families with France was finally put a stop to.
A great reaction followed this-stroke. Fresh impetus was
given to the spread of the new doctrines, and the mountain
* Written in I859 or I86o.-.TR.




138   THE REFORMATION IN  SWITZERLAND.
fortresses of the five Forest Cantons, strong, though their
internal position was,, were now encompassed by a storm
which made their situation (lay by day more untenable.
The Forest Cantons had an existence beyond their mountains; they had a share in the territories which were ruled
by the prefects of several districts (Orte) iat once, or in rotatiQn.,  There were districts governed by Zurich, Berne with
Schwyz, Lucerne, and Zug all at once.*
-Some adopted the doctrines of Zwingli, others adhered to
the old forms; some persecuted what the others held sacred;
there was thus abundant, occasion for strife. So complioat6d
a political system as this of ancient Switzerland, with its
governing districts (Orten) and its associated and subject
districts, could not but get 6ut of joint;,unless one party or
the other gained a decisive victory, or a boundary-line could
be drawn between them.
The party of the oppressed Forest Cantons adopted desperate  measures of self-defence.  In  526 a reformed
preacher was publicly burnt, as a signal that the discussion
of  eligion proclaimed a few days afterwards at Baden was to
be only a great Inquisition.  They inflicted fines, imprisonrment, whipping, mutilation, and death, so far as their power
extended, upon the reformed preachers and their followers.
The reformed cantons did not disgrace themselves with
personal violence, but almost, every victory'of their enemies
was followed by attacks upon images in the churches.
It was amidst all this irritation that the decisive struggle
drew near.  It threatened to break out in 152g9, and the
tForest Cantons renewed their alliance with the house of
Hapsburg, with the reasonable hope that the Emperor would
succeed in Switzerland in what he was trying to carry out
in the empire. The Reformers, on the contrary, relied on
those who held opinions similar to theirs in the states of
Upper Germany, Constance, at Ulm, Augsburg, Nuremnberg,
and on Philip of Hesse.
In June, 1529, both parties were ready for battle.  Zwingli
had from the first come to a conclusion on this subject different from  that of Luther.'d Thou dost not know these
people," he said to his friend (Ecolampadius in reply to his
* Thus ThuYgau in matters or government belonged to seven, in
the administration of justice to ten districts (Orten). In the valley of
ithe Rhine, Zurich, Glarus, and Appenzell had authority besade the five
districts (Orten).




THE REFORMERS AND THE FIVE CANTONS. 1 9
warnings. 6 I see the sword already drawn, and shall do the
duty -of a faithful. watchman."  He plainly saw that the
peace which was necessary for the new doctrines could not
be obtained without war; he therefore wished to see the
combat decided by a well-aimed blow at a favourable moment,
and, martial son of the Alps as he was, he, advanced on
horseback, halberdier in hand, to the frontier with his followers, to help to subdue the ill-equipped enemy.
They did not come to an engagement. The governor,
Aebli, of Glarus, intercepted the men of Zurich just as they
were about to cross the frontier, and persuaded them to
return. Zwingli said to him: " Gevater' Amman" (Father
magistrate), "thou  wilt have to answer for this before
God. Our enemies have deceived thee with fair speeches,
While they are unarmed and unprepared thou believest them
and departest.; but hereafter when they nre'-prepared they
will not spare us, and then no one will depart."
The military force of Zurich, in spite of the scanty aid of
the allies and the disinclination of Berne for war, must have
been at this time considerable, for the peace to which the
five Forest Cantons agreed at Cappel, on the 25th of
June, 1x529, was a confession of the failure of their cause.
It ran as follows: " As God's word and the faith are not
things in which it is lawful to use compulsion, both parties
shall be free to observe what they think right, and in the
common territories the majority in the congregations shall
determine whether the mass and other usages be retained or
abolished. The five cantons shall break off their alliance
with Duke Ferdinand, pay the expenses of the war, and be
advised to put a stop to the foreign annuities;" and a threat
was added that any infringement of this treaty would be
followed by "a fresh embargo on produce and merchandise."
Had it been possible to confine the controversy to the
religious question, the Reformers would doubtless have
obtained a lasting victory on the basis of this treaty; but it
was not so, and Zwingli himself was by no means disposed
thus to separate political and ecclesiastical questions. Thus
after the victory a political rupture took place among the
elements which, on the religious question, were at one.
Berne and Zurich were agreed on the subject of Church
reform, but when the question arose of giving Switzerland
another federal constitution, with a new metropolis, neither
city would yield to the other. Three centuries passed before




140   THE REFOihRMATION IN SWITZE1RLAXN
this dispute was arranged, when Zurich, in our own days, but
not without loud lamentation, agreed that Berne should be
the seat of the federal government.  Formerly, however, the
struggle for supremacy was still more difficult to settle, all
Zurich, where the doctrines of Zwingli were first adopted
and where he lived, decidedly had the advantage over its
rival in the cause of reform.
The treaty of Cappel soon led to fresh disputes.  Botf'parties complained of the other, and neither without reason,
The Forest Cantons complained that'in the districts with
mixed governments Zurich and Berne did all in their power
to further the progress of the new doctrines; that in doubtful cases everything was determined by the greater power;
that in every territorial dispute the religious, question was
made use of to their prejudice; that the rights of the newly
elected Prince Abbot of St. Gall, himself a fugitive in a
foreign land, were shamefully disregarded.
On the other hand, Zurich and Berne complained that
the five cantons did not observe the main provisions of the
peace; the new doctrines nowhere enjoyed the liberty promised them by it; wherever the Reformers appeared or
essayed to preach, they were imprisoned, persecuted, even
put to death; their followers were treated as enemies of
the country, and hatred was stirred up by lampoons and
slanders 9f every kind. Both complaints were justified, and
in the existing state of things it was quite explicable that
they should -be so.
By 1530, the very time when an explosion seemed to be
near at Augsbuig, things began to look serious. An outbreak was warded off, but things could not long remain as
they were.  In the spring of I531 Zurich proposed to
attack the Forest Cantons, but could not prevail upon its
allies to join. At the Diet it Aarau, on the xSth of May of
the same year, fatal half-measu-res~.~were resolved upon.  In
spite of Zwingli's wise warnings they resolved to prohibit the
entrance of provisions ihto the Forest Cantons, thereby irritating them to the last degree, yet doing nothing to promote
a settlement.
Had Berne and Zurich been agreed, it would have required
no great effort, with the aid of their reformed allies, to defea t
the far weaker Forest Cantons; but the spirit of discord was
as rife here as in Germany, ar d the Forest Cantons dexterously.took advantage of it. Zwingli justly said: "If you




DEATH OF ZWINGLI.                  14 1
have the right to starve the five cantons, you have the right
to attack them. It is weakness which prevents your doing
so; when you are irritated you will do it with the courage
of despair."
Early in October the five cantons secretly collected a
little arm; brave soldiers were not wanting, nor the reinforcements for a hasty sally, and their numbers were suffi
cient to fall upon one of the allies before succour could
arri ve.
The people of Zurich were taken utterly by surprise when
they saw the little banner of the five cantons advancing on
the lake. They had scarcely time for any preparations; slowly
and wearily their troops assembled on the heights of the
Albis, while the vanguard was already fighting at Cappel
below. Zwingli was present himself, encouraging his followers. They had but about two thousand' mer.to oppose
a far more numerous enemy.
On the xith of October, after brave resistance and a
contest that was long doubtful, the men of' Zurich were
defeated at Cappel, It was a result from which important
consequences flowed for a long time afterwards. Zwingli
himself fell in the tumult of battle. This formed another
striking contrast between him and Luther, who would have
nothing to do with warfare, and whose last words were,'K eep the peace. 
They represent two widely differing views of the world,
each of which is right in its place, but they cannot be
reconciled.
The second peace of Cappel, of the 2oth of November,
1531, was unfavourable enough for the Reformers; they were
compelled to do as the five cantons had had to do by the
terms of the first peace-pay the war expenses and give up
their foreign alliances.
On the other hand, each canton.was to retain its distinctive creed as before, and in the common territories the
majority in each congregation was to determine the creed
and regulate the distribution of Church property.
Thus in Switzerland as well as in Germany the question
was left to the individual states. Protestantism was not
coerced, the supremacy of Catholicism was prevented; it
was for both parties to conduct themselves peaceably in
future.
There was not in Switzerland any more than in Germany




142   THE REFORMATION IN SFWTZERLAND.
any power to enforce a decision of the religious question,
or to give unity either to reform or to the Church. Neither
of the contending parties was strong enough to defeat the
other, and the result in both cases was dualism of Church
and creed.
A general principle of Church goverfment was evolved
from Zwingli's libours: the supreme power of the congregation. Zwingli detached himself more thoroughly  than
Luther from the external framework of the ancient Church:
but in this doctrine he gave the world a principle of inexhaustible fertility, and which, as we shall yet see, has proved
itself to-be so, not only in ecclesiastical, but in political and
o;Bl! life.




IDENMARK64
The Period between, the Union of Calmar, 1397, and the Reformation,
-Position of the Danish Monarchy.-Policy and Character of
Christian II., 1513-23.-Complications with Sweden.-The Massacre of Stockholm, November, 152o.-Course of Reform-in Denmark.-Revolt of the Nobles. -Election of Frederic I., April,
1523-33.- His Domestic and Foreign Policy. -The Diet at
Odensee, 1527, and Toleration of the New Doctrines.-Complete;
Victory of the Reformation under Christian III., 1534-59.
THE  spectacle presented by the course of the Reformation
T    in the Scandinavian states is very different from that
which we have witnessed in Germany and Switzerland. What
was accomplished in those countries either without the aid
of, -or in opposition to, monarchical power, became in the
North a weapon in the hands of royalty itself; it established
its power by the aid of the Reformation; and while with us
the empire, which had long been declining, came to an end
by means of Church reform, the same revolution was, for the
Scandinavian North, the beginning of its historical existence.
At the time of the dawn of the Reformation the affairs of
Scandinavia were in singular and, as it appears, hopeless
confusion.
In t397 the great idea had been carried out of treating
the cognate Scandinavian nations as different branches of one
people, and of uniting the three kingdoms into one.  This
was the celebrated Union of Calmar, which was effected
under Queen Margaret
There are ideas which, though sound and natural in them*-S. Hvitfeld, Danmarkis Rigis Krfnike, I65z,'fol.  Holberg,
Dinische Reichshistorie, x757.  Gebhardi, Geschichte Diinemarks in
der Allg. Welthistorie, Bd. 32, 33. Pontoppidan, Reformationshistorie,
1734. Dahlmanfi, Geschichte von Diinemark, 3 Bde., 1843.




144     THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK.
selves, are yet not feasible in practice, because propounded
too early or too late.,[t, is now beyond dispute that this:
idea of union was a good one. There is at this time a
*idely distributed party in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway,
which. is steadily labouring to establish a united Scandinao
Vian state. By the loss of its eastern possessions, which
Russia now holds, Sweden has been for ever deprived of its
position as a great power, and naturally looks for support to'the ieighbouring kindred nations. Denmark is declining; it
cannot maintain its ancient colonial and mdritime power'; a
line of demarcation between its German and Danish elements
has become' inevitable; and thus the proposition advanced
by one party is very intelligible-" Leave the country to the
Germans as far as the Eider, and let what remains be the
Danish province of Scandinavia."
But at that time the case was different. The Scandinavian Union was entirely a dynastic affair; it did not originate
with the people, while now it is the people who'wish it
and'!the rulers who oppose. The differences between allied
races -were then much greater, and the need of mutual
support much less, than now. Both Denmark and Sweden
felt strong enough to stand alone or to rule the other. If
the monarch of the Union were elected in Denmark, he
would be practically powerless'in Sweden; if in Sweden, he
would be powerless in Denmark. Thus after I397 the
federal king nominally ruled over the three kingdoms, but
in two-thirds of his dominions his empire was in partibus
infidedium.
Besides the enmity of the nations to each other, the
cause of Union had to contend with the impotence of the
monarchical power, which was more counterbalanced by
strong aristocratic influences than in any other country. It
is only among the Romanic peoples that monarchical power
has taken root; among the Germanic nations it was unspeakably difficult to establish even an elective monarchy i
and as the German Electors used to protect themselves by
an election treaty, in the North a powerful Church and a
more powerful nobility used to protect themselves by what
was called a " bond'' (Handfeste).
The bond to which the early kings of the house of
Oldenburg had to swear reduced them to absolute power.
lessness. The King could do nothing without consulting the
Council of State, which had every place in its gift, even. the




THE DANISH MONARCHY.                145
offices in the royal household. He could not make war or
peace, impose taxes or confiscate estates, without the
council; the nobles and the Church had their own courts of
judicature, expired fiefs fell back to the nobles, the nobles
were exempt from taxes and had feudal rights: there was, in
short, more than German "liberty."
Thus the King had to contend with-the enmity of his
subjects among each other (and the. eimity between allied
nations is more bitter than any other),,.A; territorial nobility,
and a proud and powerful Church, both possessed of immense
wealth.
From this doubly circumscribed position royalty sought
to extricate itself by taking advantage-of the Reformation;
with'its aid it attacked and subdued one adversary, the
Church, and was then strong enough to be a match for the
nobles.
Denmark was still the centre of the northern kingdom.
Her king was king of the Union, and since the middle of the
fifteenth century the throne had been filled by the Dukes of
Oldenburg. Members of various German princely houses
had previously been elected-Erich VII. of Pomerania in
14I2, Christopher III. of Bavaria in I440. The Danes now
formed the clever-project of electing the distinguished. Duke
Adolf of Holstein and Schleswig, in order to bring theduchies into a sort of personal union with Denmark. Adolf
declined for himself, but he was too much of the ruling
prince not to seize the opportunity of seating his relative
Christian I. of Oldenburg on the Danish throne, 1448-8i.
Thus at Adolf's death that fatal personal union' took place
between Denmark and the duchies which he wished to
avoid. It is from this period that the incessant disputes
originate about the rights of the duchies, which, although
chartered by the clearest documents, have been so perpetually questioned and infringed.
Christian I. was succeeded by his son John I., I48x15I3, on the Danish throne, and by Frederic in the
duchies. The reign of the son of the former, Christian II.,
1513-23, falls.precisely at the period of the Reformation,
and it was he who made the attempt, supported by the innovations in the Church, to found a royal supremacy on the
widest possible basis. That his plan miscarried is explained
by the way in which he went to work and the weakness of
his character.
IQ




146     THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK.
Christian II. inherited the elective crown of his father
John, and the duchies were conferred on his uncle Frederic I., afterwards his successor on the Danish throne.
Sweden had for a long time been governed by two distinguished nobles, the Stures, who called themselves Stadtholders, but who were really more powerful than the King,
and his influence was no greater in Norway than it was in
Sweden; added to this there was the commercial dependence on the Hanseatic League which ruled the sea, and a
bond which to this uncontrolled and passionate prince was
peculiarly galling. He sought to relieve himself from this
hampered and humiliating position; he wanted to overthrow the power of the two aristocracies which imposed so
many restrictions upon him, and to rule Sweden from Denmark, while he kept each nation in check by means of the
other.
King Christian II. was one of those people who, though
they may possess a certain knowledge of, and insight into,
the position of affairs, are wanting in that maturity of character which is indispensable to great undertakings. He
undoubtedly possessed talents of no common order, but he
had not received an education calculated to develop and
guide them, and his rash, fierce temper especially had been
left without any wholesome counterpoise. He was adventurous rather than courageous, brave in the onset, but not
persevering. He would hazard the most dangerous enterprises, but had no patient endurance in peril. Then he
could not brook contradiction or even opposition, he had
no moral fear or political conscience, and was so thoroughly
frivolous and faithless that at length all parties forsook him.
His life was anything but exemplary. He brought back a
mistress from Holland who was personally pleasing, amiable,
and harmless, who was called, half in jest and half in
earnest, "the Little Dove" (Diiveke). But through her
mother, who was absolutely hated, she brought a fresh influence to bear upon the government.
Madame Sigbritt, who was of Dutch descent, was possessed of unbridled ambition, and delighted in exercising
her influence over the young King. The hot democratic
blood of the Frieslanders flowed in her veins, and she hated
the aristocracy. She was continually telling the King that a
nobility holding three-fourths of the land, keeping the citizens and peasants in shameful subjection, and even iram




C RPISTIAN xi.                 147
posing disgraceful fetters on the King, was aunknown in
Holland.
Thus Christian soon began to entertain the idea of a new
order of things, which should confer such an amount of
liberty on the oppressed classes'as had hitherto been impossible, remove the restrictions on trade and commerce,
and put an end to the exclusive supremacy of the nobles
and the Church. In the madst of the first efforts in this
direction, in r S 7, the King's mistress died, with symptoms
of violence.  T'**-,'ng's mind became more and more
gloomy; he conimitted acts of'wild passion and revenge
against distinguished Danes whom  he suspected,  and
although one party in the court'contrived to make him
believe that she had not been faithful to him, the event
greatly increased his misanthropy.
Just then the reform  movement began, and Christian
took it up, not at first from any special sympathy with it,
but in order with its' aid to change the aspect of Scandinavian affairs.
His first idea was to excite the, different nationalities
against each other, and to rule each by the other two.  It
was a method that. had'been repeatedly tried. He intended
to avail himself of the Danish hatred of the Swedes to
bring them  into subjection, and, once victorious, to rid
himself of the Danish aristocracy.
The Union monarchy was utterly powerless ii Sweden;
the most prominent nobles had gradually established a sort
of regency there, which exercised regal power in all but
name. The Stures filled this office of regent with honour
and success, but as- is generally the case when any aristocratic family exercises supreme power, it had all the other
families against it; the clergy especially were opposed to
the Stures. Their government was inimical to the solidarity of the two aristocratic'corporations, and was especially
directed to lessen the oppression of the common people by
the Churclh, This laid the foundations of the bitter feud in
which Christian -was proj.ecting an interference.
The Archbisbop of Upsala, Gustavus Trolle, was at open
enmity with the Regent.  His party vwanted to dissolve the
Union of Calmar, while the Bishop stood by Denmark.  In
Noverniber, s517, they had measured their strength in an
assembly of the states at Stockholm, and the Archbishop had
been defeated ancd deposed.




148     TfE R1EFORMATION IN DE-NMARC.
In January, 1x58, Christian landed in Sweden, hoping
that the feud between Trolle and Stture would furnish him
with an occasion of stirring up the two aristocracies against
each other. But in this he did not succeed. Although
really King of Sweden, he did not once enter Stockholm.
The attempt was an utter failure, and the hostages who
were given him as a safe-conduct at his departure, and
whom, instead of sending back, he illegally carried off as
prisoners, were his only booty. Among them was the future
king, Gustavus Vasa.
His next scheme was more successful. He sought aid
from his Burgundianf relations, the house of Hapsburg, and
even from its foe, Francis I.; lhe represented to them that it
was a matter in which all kings were interested, and collected a splendid army of German and French troops.
In January, 1520, he marched into West Gothland,
defeated the Swedes, subjugated the southern part of the
kingdom, and made his entry into Stockholm. The Swedish
nobles, having lost their leader by the death of Sten Sture,
had capitulated at Upsala in March.
The first condition which the King swore to observe was
the immunity from punishment of all those who had fought
against him. Stockholm was only opened to him on his
giving this assurance. But now his litter want of good faith
appeared; the amnesty did not prevent him from making a
sanguinary attack on the leaders of the Swedish nobles, and
he had an abominable -piece of sophistry ready to absolve
him from- his promise. In the feud between Sten Sture and
Gustavus Trolle, the latter had obtained a papal ban against
the party of the former, and the King of Denmark had been
named as executor of the sentence; this was now used as a
handle for his perfidy. The King',s adviser was an unscrupulous adventurer, Dietrich Slaph6k, whom Madame Sigbritt
had raised from the very dregs of the people. He persuaded
the King that he had taken the oath in favour of his foes as
King,of Denmark, but that as executor of the papal ban he
was not bound to spare those against whom the seltence
had been proan'unced; and amongst the various proposals
made to the King this appeared to him. to bie the cleverest.
On the 4th of November, 152o, he had himself solemnly
crowned, and.all kinds of festivities followed for two or three
days.- On the 7th he began to show' open hostility to -the
adherents and party of the Stures, and on the 8th began




CHRISTIAN Ilo                 1 49
those savage executions of eminent ecclesiastics, nobles,
and citizens known in history as the Massacre of Stockholm,
and which sowed the seeds of an indescribable hatred of
Denmark in Sweden, not yet extinguished.
Christian thought that the masses would have rejoiced over
the fate of their noble oppressors, but in this he was mistaken;
a feeling of the deepest indignation pervaded the whole
of Sweden;-there was no thought of parties or of rights; it
was enough that they were Swedes, who, through an unparalleled outrage, had bled on the scaffold. The echo of
this deed resounded throughout Europe, and not least in
Denmark itself. Although the Danes had gladly taken
part in curbing Swedish arrogance, it was quite otherwise
now they saw through the game the King was playing; they
thought that he might attempt in Copenhagen to-morrow
what he had done in Stockholm to-day, and on his return
he found the Danish nobles deeply embittered against him.
He now tried a second experiment; he began to dally
with Protestantism.  Not that he was convinced of, or had
any real interest in, the new doctrine; he had just massacred the Swedish nobility wholesale from pious regard to
the papal ban, and now he all of a sudden conceived an
enthusiasm for the heretics, the Pope's enemies, to whom
the ban would have justly applied. The change was too
transparent to deceive any one.
Protestant movements had taken place among the masses
at Copenhagen. There was sufficient intercourse with
Germany to give rise to them, and the oppression of the
aristocratic ecclesiastical government, with all its abuses,
was felt here as elsewhere. All the North had been early
infected with the opposition spirit of the new doctrine; the
duchies of Schleswig and Holstein first, thence it spread to
Jutland, and it was not too far for it to leap over to the
islands with which there was so much intercourse, and
where the same grievances existed.
1But Christian 1I. was not the man to lead the movement,
and the new doctrine could not have had a worse fate than
Go make its entry into Denmark soiled by such hands and
weighted with such a burden. His interest in Protestantism
did not extend beyond some futile manceuvres, but he took
more vigorous measures against the privileges of the nobles
and the clergy.
In x5az he instituted new commercial regulations which




150     THE REFORMATION IN IDENMARK;
were intended to relieve the city merchants of the mon l.
polies of the clergy and the nobles, and from  foreign
competition; then he limited the privileges of the nobles in
exacting service, in the chases and in the use of wood, for in
all these respects they oppressed the heavily burdenedc
peasant; he extended Copenhagen, formed a project for
constructing a harbour; in short, he broke with all tho
traditions of the past in the country.
But none of his schemes prospered. Even the good that
he did only appeared like a fresh artifice to defend himself
from the increasing number of his enemies. The citizen
class felt that his only object was to entice them to oppose
the Church and the nobles, and even those who secretly
approved of his innovations shunned contact with the
assassin of Stockholm. From that time no blessing rested
on his labours; his dalliance with Protestantism estranged
the Catholics, yet did not gain the hearts of the Protestants.
His reforms embittered the aristocracy, both spiritual and
temporal, yet did not gain him favour with the masses. In
Sweden a party had already gathered around the fugitive
Gustavus Vasa, which threatened a dangerous revolt, when
the universal discontent in his own country came to an
outbreak.
The nobles in Jutland had risen, and were soon joined by
the prelates and barons of the islands; in January, 1523,
they renounced their allegiance to the King, on account of
his violation of the bond, his tyrannical conduct, his threats
to the nobles, clergy, &c. The revolutionists offered the
crown to the King's uncle, Duke Frederic, of SchleswigHolstein; he accepted it, which settled the matter, though
Christian, forsaken by all, ignominiously craved pardon, and
in pitiful accents promised amendment.
In April, 1523, Clristian fled without hazarding  any
attempts at self-defence, leaving  the field open to his
successor.  DIring his exile he penitently returned to the'Ramish Church, and'in l    31 landed in Norway with a fleet
and army, and instigated a rising of the Roman Catholic
peasants against the King of Denmark, but in the spring of
1532 he was compelled to lay down his arms and return as
a prisoner to Copenhagen.  He remained in imprisonment
till his death in 1559.
With the accession of Frederic I. the relation between
Denmark and the duchies was again introduced, from which




FREDERIC X.                  15 
they aie.suffering to this day.*  When' Christian II. began
to reign,-in  513,'a separation happily took place; the
duchies had their own duke, but now their duke was again
king, and the unfortunate personal union was permanently
established.
The new King was an' entirely different person from his
nephew; he was circumspect, prudent, considerate, and conciliatory; not the man to Iundertake an enterprise lightly;
he was ready to make concessions, though sufficiently'
jealous of his own power never to endanger' it. The great
point was that he would probably bring Protestantism to
the Danish throne. The -duchies were already Lutheran;
the clergy had only reluctantly consented to the Duke's
election, and now he Was about to ascend the throne of
Denmark it was scarcely likely that he would uphold the
ancient Church.
Frederic I. acted in his difficult post with unusual
dexterity; he renounced all foreign schemes; he gave up
the Union; dominion in Norway and Sweden, the hostile
intentions of his predecessor towards the Hanse Towns and
the native nobles, were all allowed to drop, and all his
attention was concentrated on the one point'of ecclesiastical reform. He concluded a treaty with Gustavus Vasa, by
which Sweden was declared independent, and another with
Norway, which gave it the right of election; he also made
concessions to Lubeck, as he did on every question of
foreign policy, but on the reform question he would not
yield.
He had, indeed, been compelled to take an oath, among
other things in the bond, that he would not introduce the
Reformation nor attack Catholicism; but the oath was not
broken by, his doing nothing to hinder its progress, and
he could not be reproached because reform spread more
and more widely in Schleowig, HIolstein, and Jutland, or
because he would not dam up the stream which, without his
aid, was undermining the Church with which lie was personally and politically at enmity. We can scarcely be mistaken in supposing that he was influenced by two considerations. In the first'place he was devoted to Lutheranism
body and soul, and then he saw as clearly as Christian II.
that it would be an immense advantage to his crown if he
* Written in I8$9 or M86o.-TL




I152    THE kEFOR ATION IN DENMARI.
could crush the great aristocratic Church system, put an
end to its political power, and confiscate its lands to the
crown, and thus so completely lame one arm of the aristocratic opposition, that the crown would finally be able to
vanquish the other.  By these circuitous paths he was
more successful than his predecessor in accomplishing an
object no less in accordance with his personal convictions
than calculated to secure the authority of a hitherto powerless crown.
He did not attack Catholicism, but he did not prevent
Lutheran preachers from coming over from the Continent to
the islands to spread their doctrines. sHow could he dismiss the professors of his own creed?
All the nobles inI Jutland had already joined the Protestant cause, and -in the islands the dioceses of the orthodox
bishops were continually diminishing, when at the end of
1527, a Diet was convened at Odensee for the final settlement of the question.
At this diet Frederic demanded toleration for Lutheranism,
which was granted by a formal edict.* This gave the signal
for Catholicism to be swamped by the new doctrine.
At the death of Frederic, in I533,'a crisis took place.
The clergy took up the cause of the second son, John, who
was a Catholic; the Protestant party advocated that of the
Protestant Prince Christian.  Foreign influences decided
between. them.
The difficulty with Lubeck induced the aristocracy to
favour the election of Christian III., I5:4-59, who, with
Swedish help, and by a successful diversion to Lubeck,
occasioned the fall of Wullenweber and gradually recono
quered the country.
The Reformation was now completely introduced, not
with violence, but its progress was irresistible.  The
Catholic Church was reduced to a ruin, and the supremacy
which she had shared with the nobles overthrown. An
independent Danish monarchy was established, supported,
especially in Jutland and the Duchies, by a proud secular
nobility; one of the enemies of the throne was defeated,
and its spoils served to endow the monarchy., G.seer




CHAPTER XiI.
SWEDEN.*
The Revolt under Gustavus asa, 1523-6o-His Character and Policy.152! Regent, 1523 King of Sweden.-Internal and external Embarrassment of his Position.-Struggle with the Clergy.-Decree of
the Diet of Westerds, I527.-The Reformation.-Extension of the
Royal Power. - Independence and ifiternal Prosperity of the
Country.
THE struggle for the Crown and the Reformation in
Sweden was on a far larger scale than in Denmark,
and of far more moment, on account of the great man who
headed it, and the power which arose out of it.
We left Sweden at the massacre of Stockholm. This
fearfully inflamed the old hatred of Denmark, and above all
party conflicts, which were not wanting, the idea of shaking
off the yoke of this cruel government was predominant.
But Christian held Stockholm, the southern parts of the
country and the harbours were garrisoned, and in the north,
though there were no Danes, there were but few towns, and
but few centres where means of resistance could be gathered
together; a sturdy race of men lived widely scattered in
their solitary farms and villages, but so dispersed that the
south could not look to them for aid.
But at this juncture one man alone succeeded in delivering the people from the most hateful foreign tyranny,
in securing the independence of Sweden, and creating a;
splendid power, at a period when no one had ventured to
lift a hand against the enemy.
Among the hostages treacherously carried away by Chris* Geschichte K6nig Gustavs I., y. 01. Celsius. iibers. i. ii. Leipzig,
1749. Fryxell, Gustav WVasa's Leben, 1831. Geijer, Geschichte Swe.
dens, Deutch von Lefiler. flamburg, 183a.




154      THE REFORMATION IN SlAEDEN.
tian II. was a youth named Gustavus Erichlson, born.in
1490. He belonged to one of the most distinguished
noble families, connected with the Stures by party and
family ties, and bore on his arms a sheaf or bundle of
flax. called 6" Wase," hence the surname of Vasa.
He was' taken as a prisoner to Copenhagen in I518,
and passed.a dreary time in prison. His indignation at
his country's disgrace gave him strength for the most daring
enterprises, to flee alone over lapd and sea, to seek foreign
aid for his fatherland, and aftenvards to undertake to liberate it himself. In September, I5i9, he arrived at Lubeck in
disguise. All opposition to the hated Christian was welcome there, and they refused to deliver up the prisoner;
but more than this they would'not do. A powerful kingdom in, Sweden was as little desirable as a powerful kingdom in Denmark; on this point the maritime merchants
agreed in opinion with the jealous aristocracy,of the
northern empire.  ]Besides, nothing was -known as yet of
the foreign,fugitive; he had still to show of what he was
capable.
When- the news reached him of the massacre of Stockholm, he returned unrecognised to his country. All his
family had been destroyed in one day; his father and
brother-in-law were murdered; his mother and sisters taken
prisoners to Denmark; all his friends were butchered, and
-a price set upon his own head. Pursued by the King's
myrmidons, surrounded by treachery and treason, he wandered about for months as a day labourer and vagrant,
suffering dangers-and privations of every kind.
At length he suddenly appeared in his own character at
a great meeting at Dalecarlia, in the north of Sweden.
He was singularly endowed by nature; even in early
youth his imposing presence, and the charm  f' his appearance, had made a great impression upon all. -'He had not
failed to make some impression even upon the inhabitants
of Lubeck, who had regarded the views of the friendless
youth with the cool, calculating spirit of shopkeepers..He
was a specimen of a powerful Northman, with a singularly
attractive presence, a rare gift of speech, and a natural
tact in intercourse with all men, the most distinguished'as
well as the most humble, and by skilful negotiations he
contrived to find a solution for qvery difficulty.,
He now appeared in his peasant's jerkin as the deli



GUSTAVUS VA$SA.                155
verer of his country, and stirred up the north of Sweden
against the Danes. Similar stories are told of him during
the time of preparation to those of King Alfred when in
a like situation; how he gave vent to his grief in old
national songs, discovered people's opinions by cunning
questions, tried to gain them by burning words, wandered
from farm to farm, here and there making himself known,
gaining adherent everywhere, but particularly in Dalecarlia. With these northern dalesmen, with rustic equipments, unused to military discipline, but possessing great
physical strength, and implacably hating the Danes, he
undertook a desperate campaign against a considerable
army, which was in possession of the most important
places in the country, and by virtue of tremendous exertions, and the perplexities in Denmark, the daring enterprise was successful.
He was elected regent in August, [521, and proclaimed
king in June, 1523; soon afterwards, scarcely three years
after his first promotion,-he made his entry into Stockholm
as ruler of the country amidst the rejoicings of the people.
It was only with reluctance that the nobles had consented to his election, but the voice of the people wastoo powerful to be overruled, and for themr a king of
Sweden like Gustavus was the only pledge of national
independence.
But the throne was at first nothing but an empty title
to which the wearer must give significance. Gustavus
found a country in his hands which had long had a vacillating connection with Denmark, perpetually severed and
renewed. It had been sometimes ruled by strangers, sometimes by natives, so that at last nobody knew whose right
it was to rule.  Law and right had almost disappeared;
every one had forgotten how to govern or to be governed.
Amidst the manifold changes of the Union kingdom, no
government had attained to effective power or general
respect; every class of the people had become accustomed to take care of itself as it best could; the nobles
would submit to no one; the Church had become a
power' partly independent of the country, and preyed upon
the kingdom as if it had been but a province.; the people
were as independent as the two ruling aristocracies permitted.
And what means could Gustavus Vasa find  for the




156      THE R-FgORMATION IN SWEDEN.
construction of a new edifice in this country, in which
anarchy had reigned unrestrained for a century and a half?
Two-thirds of the land were in the possession of a proud
and powerful clergy, and the greater part of the remainder
in that of a wealthy and ambitious nobility. The regular
expenditure of the Crown was 6o,ooo marks, its income
24,000. The debt to Lubeck for aid during the war
amounted to i,ooo,ooo marks.   The south of Sweden
was still in the hands of the Danes; commerce, the coasting trade, and the harbours were monopolized by Lubeck.
When, therefore, Gustavus Vasa was raised to the throne
amidst the acclamations of the people, he found a crown
without significance, a country unaccustomed to the restraint of law, a throne,deeply in debt, liabilities which
amounted to fifty times more than he could raise.
His policy was simple.  Ie purposed to overthrow the
supremacy of the clergy in order to enrich himself with
the spoils, and, if it could not be helped, to share them
with the nobles; but at all events to take care that the
citizens and peasants should be gainers by the transaction,
that they might not be estranged from him as they were
from  Christian II.  If this object could be attained,
something might be made of the Crown from its own
resources.
Gustavus Vasa was not a man with a keen sense of the
distinctions between religious creeds.  His character was
simple, moral, and earnest. Even in his youth, with all his
taste for lofty schemes, with all the fervid glow of his love
of honour, his actions had been guided by a certain cool
sagacity and sober determination. His was a character in
kwhich a strong tyrannical vein was united with wonderful
tact and a habit of self-control, qualities which are seldom
Found together. He had never tormented himself with the
religious contrpsyersies which were then agitating the world,
but it did not Escape-his quick perception that the way to
the proper development of the regal power was over the
necks of the clergy, and that the universal animosity of
ithe ancient Church was a mighty weapon in the hands of
the secular power.
He eagerly adopted this political view of Protestantism,
and nowhere else was it so consistently acted upon; but it
contained a principle of universal application. The statesman
might ask, Are states to be rained that a time-honoured




GUSTAVUS VASA.                 157
abuse may continue; are the people to be consumed by the
monopolies of the clergy, who not only have the consciences of the people in their keeping, but also usurp their
means of living? The ancient amalgamation of spiritual and
temporal power was now avenged. If it was called robbery,
the people looked upon it as a much greater robbeiy that,
by surreptitious documents and artifices of all sorts, the
clergy had obtained possession of nearly all the land.
The combination of prudent foresight and relentless
energy with which Gustavus Vasa went to work is admirable. There was something magical in the sway he
exercised; he had the most seductive power of speech,
which enchanted the masses, though some of his actions
betrayed the claws of the despot.
But his plans were more easily conceived than carried
out. The nobles probably shrank back when they found
that the clerical power was to be undermined. Was not
their own position based upon similar foundations, and
might they not well say, "6 If the clergy are overthrown, who
will protect us? P'
The brave peasantry who had risen up against the
Danes with Gustavus inf Dalecarlia clung.to their ancient
faith; they had not yet come in contact with the Reformation. If, the priests succeeded in influencing these simple,
unsuspecting people, the hands which had once borne Gustavus Vasa akoft would probably be lifted up against him.
And in isolated cases this did occur, What could he do?
Turn to the citizen class,? There was none, for Sweden
had no trade, no, marts, no fleet; all its commerce was in
the hands of Lubeck.
Thus it was necessary to proceed cautiously, and by
indirect paths, to allow time for the state of opinion that he
required to grow up gradually.  Without expressing any
opinion of his own, he secretly favoured the Lutherans
while he ostensibly maintained the best understanding with
the Pope. That eager desire for reform and excitement
which we have seen. in central and southern Germany did
not exist among the masses in the north; the people
required to be inoculated, and Gustavus took care that it
should be done with consummate: prudence, tempered with
zeal. He had been preparing the way for Lutheranism
ever since I523, without undue haste, with the patient
persistence that suited the people. Sweden had a small




158       THE REFORMATION IN' SWEDEN.
reform party even armong the clergy; as, for instance,
Lorenz Anderson and the brothers Peterson.
Gustavus got men like these to preach against abuses
and the sale of pardons, moderating their zeal by sensible
admonitions; and when the clergy complained, he said that
if they were abuses that were attacked, let them be reformed,
eut if not, let it be proved from the Bible. He gave the
greatest possible publicity to the strife between the old and
new doctrines. While the subject was being agitated in
discussions, sermons, and pamphlets, he concealed his own
convictions, and it was only on one point that he spoke
out-on the right of the State to the Church property. At
two Diets in I526 a very heavy tax was-imposed upon the
clergy. Prelates and monasteries were to pay eight-ninths
of their income; but this was the most unwise thing he
could do, for it excited a revolt which was headed by two
of the bishops.
These leaders of the rebels treated the saviour of the
country as a vagabond usurper; they thought that they
themselves were safe, even should' others lose their heads.
But, like Napoleon, Gustavus Vasa could not see why
bishops should not lose their-heads as well as other people.
He quelled the revolt in Dalecarlia, and had the leaders
tried by a secular tribunal, by which they were condemned
to death. In February,  52 7, the sentence was executed;
but the misguided multitude went unpunished.
In June of the same year Gustavus convoked the Diet at
Westeris, at which, besides the clergy and nobles, representatives of the icitizen and peasant class appeared for tile
first time. The citizens felt flattered by the honour; the
peasants regarded it more as a debt owing to them for their
help; but the interests of both were identified with those
of the King, and in case of necessity they were disposed to
impress upon the clergy by force the sacrifice that was
required from them. It is with the decrees of this Diet
that the historical greatness of Sweden begins, and it
steadily increased up to the. time of the mistbrtunqs and
blulndersof Charles XII;
At this Diet, purposely convened- at a remote little town
to guard against any compulsion from without, the King
brotught forward the demands which formed part of his
programme, and which were necessary to give security to
the Crown, to in ure a proportion between the income and




CUSTAVUS VASA.                  159
expenditure of the State, to meet a daily increasing deficit,
to discharge the colossal debt to Lubeck, and at length to
put an end to its burdensome monopoly of trade; and all
this was to be done at the expense of the enormous wealth
of the Church. The discord in the Church was also mentioned in the King's.communication, and he offered to
prove that he was not a heretic, as had been slanderously
reported, but believed the pure word of God. The existing
discord, however, must be put a stop to.
But his views found no favour. The nobles expressed
their displeasure, the clergy were turbulent and excited,
and declared that in the matter of Church property they
would only yield to force. The King then began to address
the Assembly. He possessed not merely courage such as
few historical personages have exhibited, but that gift of
eloquence and personal influence over men which is peculiar
to those who are born to rule. The Swedes themselves
have described to us how the masses were moved by his
stately presence and eloquent words; he had given proof of
this when, as an outlaw and hunted fugitive, he had incited
his down-trodden countrymen to fight against the Danes,
and he gave proof of it now in contending with the ecclesiastical aristocracy.
He stated that he had wished to make a final experiment, whether'it were possible to reign there as king. He
considered that the experiment had failed. Rain and sunshine, famine and pestilence, all were laid to his charge,
and every priest was allowed to sit in judgment on him;
yet- it was not from ambitious motives that he had ascended
the throne, but that he might save Sweden; he had sacrfi
ficed -his patrimony to the- public good, and he was repaid
with ingratitude. Sweden was not yet ripe' for a king, and
with a voice almost choked with tears, he said;'" I must lay
down this crown."
With these words he left the astonished assembly, which
immediately broke up in confusion. Sutbsequent scenes in
the Diet when left to itself showed what would become of
Sweden without a king. The four estates- fell together by
the ears. Amidst the stormy scenes that took place,. not a
single decree Was formed, and the result was that. the dissansions between parties became greater than ever; this
anarchy would soon prevail over the whole of Sweden, if
some powerful arm did not intervene,




160      THE REFORMATION  N SWWDEN.
The result'that the King expected -soon followed. A
division took place among the nobles, and a large party of
them were of opinion that the clergy must make sacrifices-;
no State could exist with so sparse a.population and a
sterile soil if'two-thirds of the land continued to be held
in mortmain. Thus the nobles deserted the clergy, and
it was quite intelligible that the citizens and peasants, who.
had everything to gain and nothing to lose, should be
impatient, and proceed from threats to blows.
Three stormy days after the King's'abdication,,he was
urged again to appear before the Diet  A new oath of
allegiance was taken, and his proposals now met with a
different fate.  Deserted by all parties, the clergy gave
way, and were so abject as to be quite undignified. It
generally happens that political parties, who have for a,
long time insolently rejected all reasonable terms, suddenly
come round to ignominious submission. The clergy in this
case subbmitted to conditions which entirely reversed' their
position in the State, and deprived them  of everything
for which they had been passionately contending.
The Diet decreed precisely in accordance with the King's
demands:I. That it is the duty of all the estates in common to
quell all rebellion, and to defend the Government from'foes
from within and from without.
2. That monasteries and Church property are entirely at
the disposal of the King..
3. That the nobles are justified in taking possession
of their estates, which have become Church property
since 1454.
4. That the preaching of the Lutheran doctrine be permitted.
The bishops signed a special declaration, that "they
were willing to be as rich or as poor as his grace the King
willed; but, with their diminished incomes, they wished to
be released from the duty of attendance at the Diet."
With this the ancient clerical estate of Sweden collapsed.
The Church still existed in sufficient'splendour, but it had
no longer any political existence; it was'too poor and too
entirely dependent on the King,'who, as may be supposed,
took abundant advantage of the concessions of the Diet of
Westeras. The victory of the Crown was obtained at a
price which might be afterwards regretted, but it was then




GUSTAVUS  VASA                 x 6 1an inevitable necessity; the power of the nobles was increased by the defeat of the Church, for they shared its
spoils with the Crown. They gave the succeeding Kings of
Sweden plenty of trouble, but it required a Charles. XII.,
with his disregard of all the rights of the country, to make
the Swedish nobles dangerous again. Stormy scenes still
took place in the Diet, but Gustavus obtained the mastery.
He was n6t crowned till 1528, and then the favourable
aspect of his sway began to be apparent. The Diets of
Oerebro, 1540, and Westeras, I544, settled the succession of
the Swedish crown on his house, and abolished the elective
monarchy. Meanwhile the Reformation made astonishing
progress; though it had only begun as a small sect, it
was now dominant in the nation. For the first time since
there had been a kingdom of Sweden the country knew
what it was to have a monarchical government of the
modern stamp; she enjoyed fobr the first time conscientious
administration of the laws, legal equality and domestic peace
and security. The King had a handsome income, a trustworthy- military force, and faithful and devoted officials.
With these means the foundations were laid of a sovereign
power, such as had never'before existed.
The debt to Lubeck was next discharged, and Sweden
was relieved from the monopolies of the Hanse Towns;
commercial treaties' were entered into with Denmark;
Russia, England, and the Netherlands; a market was
opened for iron, the chief product of the country, and the
budding trade of Sweden put under the protection of a
little fleet of its own. All foreign and commercial yokes
were thrown off, domestic resources developed, and all that
can conduce to the wealth and prosperity of a State wisely
fostered and encouraged until the death of Gustavus in
September, I56o. During the whole of the King's reign
every one had some complaint against him;  the clergy did
not forget their losses, the nobles were jealous of the
supreme power of the Crown, the citizens and peasants
took the blessings of the new government as a matter of
course,, and grumbled at fresh taxes and burdens, every
one rebelled against the novel administration of a strictly
monarchical government; but no sooner had the King cl6sed
his eyes, than the surpassing lustre of his name was acknowledged. The contemporary generation certainly had
to pass through a painful transition -period, but the foundas
II




1i 62    THE REFORMATION iN SWEDEN.
tions of the power were then laid which was established in
the seventeenth century. The great north-eastern kingdom
of the coming age was now founded, and it took many
misfortunes and disasters to reduce it to ruins. This was
the reason why the time of peaceful labour and construction under Gustavus Vasa was afterwards so gratefully
recurred to.
This was the course events took in the Scandinavian
empire, among a race of Germanic origin, and which,
though politically distinct from Germany, had in many
respects grown up on similar principles. It now received
the germs of a new political existence from the Reformation. In Denmark as. in Sweden, a great political regeneration was connected with the religious revolution;
in neither country was Church reform the result of a great
religious movement among the masses, as in Germany, but
it was the lever of a political revolution, which brought a
change in the religious sentiments of the people in its train;
but in both countries the crisis gave an impetus to national
power and historical significance, which was far from being
the case in Germany.




ENGLAND.*
angThnd before the Tudors-Henry VIII., 15og9tlg47..-EHis Chara-t
and Attitlde at first towards the Church.-EHis Oplosition to thet
Reformation which was demanded by the Mental Development
of the Nation.-The Complications with Rome.-The Marriage
Question, x526-9.-Wolsey's Fall.-Breach with Rome.; — he,
RoYal Supremacy, 1534.-The Religious War against Catholics
and Prote'tants.-The Secularisation of Monasteries.-The six
Articles of I593.
ENG LND BvOaoR/E THE TUDORs.
T is only the beginning of the demolition of the medieval
Church in England, and not the Reformation, which
flls within our period, and this prelude to the ecclesiastical
revolution was performed by a monarch who personally~
regarded  the Reformers and  the Reformation with passionate hatred.  it was an exceptional case, and by no
means a  desirable one.  The traditional Church might -be,
pulled down, and the ground covered with the chaotic. ruins,
of the old-  rder -of things; but if it was not followed by.
the positive acquisition of anew ecclesiastical and religious
life, the eve-nt was a very doubtful benefit to the generation
then living., But the Government of Henry- VIII. cannot
* Hume, History of England. Lingad, History of England. Hallam, Constitutional History of England. Burnet, History of the Reformation, Collier, Ecclesiastical History.  Strype, EcclesiasticalMemorials. G. Weber, Ges'chichte der Kathol. Kirche von Grossbritannien, i845. Ranke, Engliche-Geschicbte, I859. Froude, History of England. Brewer, Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic,
of the Reign of Henry VIII. Bergenroth, Calendar of Letters, Despatchesj and State-Papers relating to the Negociations between
England and Spain, preserved in the Archives of Simancas and elsewhere. Maurenbrecher, England im Reforwations Zeitalter. Dusseldoxs. u866.




64      TlH   REFORMATION TN ENGLAND.
boast of having done more than this, The real Reformnation in England began under Edward VI., passed through
a fiery trial under Mary, and, proved victorious' under
Elizabeth.
The attitude of Henry VIII. undoubtedly had a signifi.
cance in the great Church question which extended far
beyond his personal aims and objects.,He did nothing to
benefit either life or doctrine; or rather, he did all that he
could by bad example and confusing men's consciences to
make them worse. Still, from a variety of motives, he did
bring about a great breach between England and the
mediaeval Church system, and this remained as a great
historical fact, however different the result may have been
fornm. what he intended.  I.e wanted to -establish a royal
Papacy as absolute and persecuting as the purely ecclesiastical one which he was rejecting; but he was in reality.
making loopholes for liberty.
The Reformation in its widest sense formed an epoch in
the development of the English constitution; and, on the
other hand, the peculiar development of the English constitution since the thirteenth century imposed essential conditions on the Reformation.
There were no absolute monarchies, in the seventeenth
arid eighteenth century'sense, anywhere'in the Wlest, but
the relation between the privileges of the States and the
royal authority varied exceedingly. They were compressed
within narrow limits in France by Francis I.; in Germany,
grown up together as they had done with the ambitious
principalities,'-they threatened to overwhelm the political
and national unity of the Empire; in Spain, Charles V. had
to carry on a- great contest with the liberties of the ancient
kingdom  in England the form of government was entirely
monarchical, yet modified by certain acknowledged principles of liberty such as nowhere else existed.
The foundation of these principles was the Magna Charta
of 2I15.'It is true that it was a charter of liberty to the
great nobles, temporal and spiritual, to defend them from a
contemptible king, and it therefore formed the basis of the
privileges of the hierarchy and aristocracy; but it contains
some very important regulations, which we look for in vain
in any other medieval charters.  He who examines our
German royal laws of the thirteenth century will find that
the great lords.not only claimed all the privileges of princely




.EHNC-LM    B3FORE THE TUDcORS.           165
rank, but made'a tool of the king to limit the liberties
of the other classes; and it was- just the same with the
privileged class in ancient France.
It is this which constitutes the great difference between
}Magna Charta and all the other charters of the Middle
Ages. It grants the suffrage to ecclesiastics, and mitigations of feudal bonds to the barons; but it concedes the
same mitigations to vassals of a lower:grade, and makes
regulations for the benefit of the whole nation: uniformity
of coinage,,weights and measures, security for trade, prohibition of arbitrary taxes and impositions, a guarantee for
the liberties of cities, power over the disposition of property, regular courts of justice, the regulation that no man
can be tried but by the law of the land, and that his implements of husbandry may never be distrained from  a
peasant.
This was enough at that time to afford free scope- to the
development of the powers of the citizen and peasant class,
especially in an island empire which was particilarly well
situated for trade and commerce, was not affected by conti.
nental wars, and was less exposed' to hostile invasion than
ar-y other country.  Thus in England, even among the
c:tizen and peasant classes, there was a national prosperity
which laid the foundations of political independence.  The
fEundamental  law of the country was an unimpeachable
palladium of their liberties; every Englishman knew what
his rights were. After x283, representatives of the citizen
class begin to appear among those of the nobles and clergy
in Parliament, full two hundred years earlier than in Germany. After, 1297, taxes could ofily be levied with the
consent of Parliament, and by degrees the inferior nobility
made common cause with the citizens; for though just as
well protected as the great feudal lords; they found the
citizens the- only counterpoise to the -power of the great
nobles in Parliament. A more auspicious union than this
between the lesser nobles, and the citizen class could not
well be imagined.
Then came the fourteenth century, a time of disturbances
within, and wars without,. Wars are not generally favourable to civil liberties; but this case also was exceptional.
Edward III., the most brilliant monarch of the fourteenth
century, carried on great wars with France, and finally
claimed the French crown  They were purely warn of con.




i66     THE REFORMATION IrN ENGLAND.
quest, and had nothing to do with the advancement of
English national prosperity. But the King was continually
obliged to ask Parliament for subsidies; and thus, even
under this monarch, that dependence of the Crown on Parliament on all financial questions was established on which
the whole Parliamentary system of England was to take
root.
Many a precious germ was crushed in the.confusion of
the civil wars which followed; but the development of the
Parliamentary system made progress rather than the contrary. Three great constitutional principles were already
acknowledged and acted upon:-That the King can make
no law without consent of Parliament; that he cannot
impose any tax without consent of Parliament; that he is
bound to administer the Government according to the laws
of the country; and if he break these laws, his ministers
and agents are responsible for it.'
Under the new Tudor dynasty, whose legitimacy depended
upon the will of the nation,-for the other claims to the
Crown of Henry VII., the victor of Bosworth, were, of a
very dubious nature, —that vigorous administration began
which was to heal the wounds of civil war, and tide England
happily- over the dangers of a stormy transition period.
HENRY VIII.:, I509-47.-HIS CHARACTER AND ATTrITUD
AT FIRST TOWARDS THE CHURCH. —OPPOSITION TO
THE  REFORMATION, THOUGH  DEMANDED  BY  THE
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NATION.
Henry VIII. inherited from his father a kingdom more
firmly established than any King of England had reigned
over for generations, and he duly estimated the value of his
Crown. His natural- aristocratic tendencies were increased
by a passionate and violent temper, which could brook no
contradiction.  It- is difficult to portray a character like
his correctly, and the: English have not rendered the task
less difficult; for their party spirit has overpowered their
historical judgment. Protestant authors have not forgotten
the service he rendered to their cause by throwing off
the yoke of the Romish hierarchy; and, therefore, notwithstanding the many Protestants he burnt, there is a little too
e Macaulay,




HEnRY VI.                   x67
much coukur de rose in their portraits. The Catholics, on
the other hand, have not forgotten the breach with Rome,
and the unworthy motives which induced it, and have
painted him in very sombre hues. We must try to avoid
both errors.
Besides the strongly marked love of power which he
shared with all his house, and which was fostered rather
than checked by a subservient Parliament, he possessed
an instinct which was common to all the rulers of that age,
and which in his case was more than an unconscious
tendency to free himself from all fetters, to be as much
as possible an absolute monarch like his ideal Francis I.,
whom, although he had many a fray with him, he often
absurdly imitated.
England has not had any king who possessed in so great
a degree the inclination and the power to be a tyrant.
The Stuarts had inclination enough, but not the power;
although they were constantly declaring that they would be
powerful sovereigns, it was all in vain.. Henry VIII. was
just the man for it; he had an active, diplomatic mind, aind
knew how to manage men; he had a will which no difficulty
could dismay, and great versatility of talent; all -this, however, was obscured by his wild passions and his unbridled
sensuality, which is all the more odious because a certain,.
theological varnish was put upon it.
Henry VIII. had enjoyed a tolerably learned education,
and therefore considered himself an accomplished scholar;
he was fond of learned.discussions and scholastic sophistry;
he even ventured dogmatically to defend his sensual
excesses.
In coming in contact'with the great religious reformation
of that period, a ruler of a character like his was sure to be
depicted in an exceptional manner.
The relation of England to Rome was sharply defined, in
some respects more sharply than was the case with Germany.
If any country had maintained a distant, even hostile atti.
tude, towards Rome, it was England. Wicliffe is justly
regarded as the chief forerunner of the Reformation, and
except Huss,, who was his disciple, there was no one who
apprehended and discussed the Church question so independently as he did; only that Huss was burnt for preaching
what was allowed to be preached in England unhindered.
and some decades earlier.




168     THE REFORMATION DI  ENGLAND.
Besides this the humanistic culture which was everywhere
an ally of the ecclesiastical revolt was widely spread in
England; in few northern countries was the study of the
ancient classics more diligently pursued than here, both in
elementary instruction and Iearned researches. In short,
both of the streams from which the Reformation everywhere
derived its greatest strength, the spirit of religious opposition, dating from the times of the councils, and enlightenment from  classical study, flowed here more abundantly
and purely than anywhere else, and partly before Luther,
and partly quite independently of him, opinions similar to
his had been widely agitated.
But Henry VIII, was entirely opposed to them. No
European monarch cherished the conservative Church system
with more zeal and passion than he did.
This was all of a piece with his semi-tleological culture.
There was in his singular character a peculiar doctrinalscholastic element which was quite compatible with an utter
want of religious feeling; a bit of pedantry which now and
then incited him to try to pluck laurels to which he had no
claim, in this, to other princes, unwonted field.
There was also another thing. All the Tudors, even
Elizabeth, had a secret liking for Rome,'which arose rather
from an idea of political' stability connected with it than
from any religious reasons. The chief characteristic of this
family was a. strong dynastic feeling of the dignity of
monarchical power; it was very perceptible in both Henry's
daughters, Mary and Elizabeth, though they were otherwise
so different. Rome is the' type of unquestioned authority;
it may be dangerous to temporal thrones to shake this authority: this was the instinctive idea: which ruled the house.
From this p6int of view Henry VIII. was decidedly opposed to the revolutionary attitude towards Rome, assumed
by the German and Swiss Reformation.. H-e attacked it
with systematic and cruel severity-; he regarded the-heretics
as rebels and traitors; trials for heresy were very numerous,
arid, it was only in France that the' number of victims
exceeded -those in England.
Such was the position of England and the King; the
nation and he were ~utterly at variance; germs of reform
had been springing up abundantly amongst the people
since the fifteenth century; but their natural growth  and
development were thwarted from the throne.




.aT-   MAR.RAGE QU:eSTION             69q
On Henry's first attempt to engage in the ecclesiastical
controversy as something in which he was well versed, he
met with a rebuff. He could not resist the temptation to
give the Wittenberg Monk a severe lecture on the subject
of good works, and, in I522, he published a work against
Luther.  Frederic the Great says somewhere, that a king
must always be a king and never try to be a priest, but
Henry VIII. was unmindful of this wise maxim. His work
betrayed the dilettante, whose nakedness the royal. authority
was meant to hide, and it attacked Luther entirely on the
wrong side. He wrote a coarse and angry answer, next to
his work against the Duke of Brunswick the coarsest of his
writings, on purpose to show that he was not in the least
awed by royalty  sentences like the following were among
the comparatively mild cxpressions in thd reply of the
Thuringian peasant's son: "When'God wants a fool he
tums a king into a theological writer~"
This incensed. Henry personally against the RefOrmation,
and, all things considered, nothing appeared less likely than
that a breach with Rome would take place under hinm.
Besides, his all;powerful favourite Cardinal Wolsey was. at
his side, Who had no other idea than to attain' to the papal
dignity, and who already had one foot in the Curia,
TE. COMnPLCATIONS WITH RoMEm-THE MARRIAGE'QUESxoN,~ I526o29eo
A pecuiliar questionf respecting marriage interposed about'- 526, which had nothing whatever to do with the Reformation, but which from a purely personal and not verya mnce
business became a matter of world-wide importance.
King Henry VII. had. been married in June, x5og, tothe widow of his elder brother Arthur, who had died early; 
he would have succeeded to the throne, and his sagacious
father had secured foe him' the richest bride that could be
found far and wide., This was. Katharine of Aragon, the
daughter of that powerful pair, Ferdinand of Aragon and
Isabella of Castile, who by the junction of their inheritances
founded the Spanish emnpir  The daughter of such parents
was a most desirable' atchy for she brought as a dowry the
alliance of the wealthy and powerful Spanish house. But
the youthful prince died suddenlyg and after so short ami
union tha it R;s doubtful whethe  the marriage had been




170     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
consummated. The natural course would have been to
loolk upon the alliance between the two houses as dissolved
by fate. But Henry VII. entered into negotiations to gain
the widow for his second son, now heir to the throne.
There were difficulties in the way. First there was the
question whether marriage with a. brother's widow was per.
tnissible. Then Henry was younger and of a very different
character from  Katharine, whose quiet, sedate Spanish
manners seemed little suited to his lawless, passionate temperament. But the shrewd Tudor who had succeeded in so
many things succeeded in this also; he united the young
pair,. but though the marriage contract was ready on the
23rd of June, I503, it was not until after six years of suspense and discord that it was formally and legally carried
out by the voluntary advances of the prince himself, who
had just ascended the throne.
In the endeavour to paint the King in as bright colours as
possible, the English do not forget to mention, that from
the first Henry recorded in a sort of protest his scruples
against a marriage forbidden by the decrees of the Church.
It is a fact that he did so, It was a sort of theological
scrupulosity and casuistry which led him to provide against
aill contingencies. Rome then came to his aid, and Pope
Julius II. issued a bull by which all theological scruples
were set aside. a;nd the marriage pronounced thoroughly
legal.
The course of the union did not appear to justify any of
the fears that had been entertained about it. Though the
pair were apparently so ill suited, their opposite characters
seemed to do very well together. The fruit of the marriage
was a daughter, Mary, who afterwards ascended the throne;
their sons did not live, and the Enrglish assure us that this
was the first cause of estrangement. Nothing of this, however, came to light. Katharine, who was of a contemplative
and retiring nature, was pliant and indulgent enough, and
allowed her frivlAous pleasure-loving consort to do just as
he pleased.
The union had continued in peace for half a lifetime,
when the old scruples, which were supposed to have been
buried long ago, were revived. The Mosaic law against
such marriages came with fresh force over the mind of the
royal theologian and destroyed his peace. N.R —There
was at the court a young and blooming maid of honour,




nHo  MAR.EDR. GE QUESTION.             7 
with attractive French grace, a charming contrast to Katha.
rne's dull monotony; she had charmed the King, and this'it was which decidedly favoured, if it did not entirely occasion, the revival of the forgotten scruples. The King was
tired of his wvye, who was getting old, and hankered for
Anne Boleyn. It was only as his wife and not otherwise,
that she promised to return his affection; so the King was
obliged to think of the dissolution of the old marriage and
the contraction of a new one which would be more to his
taste, and from which he might hope for an heir to the
throne. Sensuality turned the scale. Such motives when
naked and undisguised are not pleasing, but when covered
with a theological mantle they are odious. All of a sudden
-the marriage which had lasted nearly twenty years, had, as
his court theologians assured him, becomet. invalid, and he
was racked with shadp. pangs of conscience; but his conscience did not pre veint him from zealously courting the
beautiful girl, to whom, as he could not gain her for his mistress, he had promised marriage.
Cardinal Wolsey, although still coveting the triple crown,
was at length' prepared, with a heavy heart, to undertake the
negotiation which might cost him not only the papal tiara,
but the results of the labours of his life.,A  bull was.
applied for from'Rome, which should confirm the King's
scruples and relieve his conscience, by dissolving the
marriage which was contrary to the decrees of the Church.'
It was a delicate business.. Had it not been that. Rome
had by i previous bull herself removed all obstacles out of
the way, considering the spirit then, reigning at..the Curia,
the matter would have been easy enough, But it was felt
that it would be very undignified for Clement VII. to pro-,
nounce a decree precisely. contradicting that pronounced by.
Pope Julius!I. on the' same qucstim.
But this was i.n i526-7, just-when. the victory of Pavia;
and tlhe peace of Madrid had led the Emperor Charles V.-.
to the summit of his fam-e,;and when Rome was' courting
Francis I., in order to obtain his aid to crush the growing
power  and.the papal' policy was guided from a purely
worldly point of view, not by a priest but a Medici. Just atthis juncture, the' emrbassy from England arrived, and - the.
position of affairs could-scarcely have been more fNiVourable
for its success. There' was no objection to offering a cruel
insult to the Emp.eror's iaunt  Queen Katharine; they were




1-72    THE R.EFORATION Lk ENGLAND.
endeavouring. to compass his fall, so why should they
scruple to offend. him?  The Pope was not indisposed to
please the King; in his wrath at Charles V.'s successes, in
the hope of gaining a new and powerful ally against him,
Clement VII. resolved upon the incredible folly of sending
an embassy to investigate the subject and to pronounce a
divorce according to the resiult  This was the Legate's come
mission in his first ins.tructions
So Cardinal Campeggio came to England. Hle at first
tried to induce the Queen to renounce  her rights, and as
Chat failed, a painful and repulsive process was instituted'vhich shocked all contemporaries, and sometimes moved
for a moment yeven the hardUhearted judges of the unfortu.
mate Quieen. It was never forgotten how the innocent
idncess'was brought before the court and examined, how
simply and plainly but firmly she defended her good cause
cn her ownway, how uhe called to remembrance her conjugal
fidelity and the pledge of her love, and how pa thetically she
lamented that it had not been possible to her as a foreigner
to be all to the country as Queen that she would fain have
been.
But this did not turn the judges from their course; they
continued the barbarous trial, but the business did not
proceed very fast. The Papal Legate was by no means in
so great a hurry as the Xting, who was writing one impao
tient letter after another to his Anne. It was still very
uncertain what turn things might take; the wind blew now
from one quarter, now from another.'The Legate was in
no hurry,-he might have had secret instructions to that
effect,-he wanted to see how matters were likely to stand
between- the Pope and the Emperor, and just then a change
was taking-'place in the relations between them. At the
end of x523, Clement V~. was not in a position to keep
the field against the Emperor; hbis allies had again been unsuccessful, Charles's troops had advanced to Rome, nearly
all the Peninsula was in their hands; everything concurred
to induce the Pope to conclude peace with the Emperor,
and for him the pending divorce was a great inducement to
a reconciliation, for it might result not only in an irremedi-.able breach with Rome, but in an irreparable insult to his
dynasty.
In July, $529, Campeggio suddenly received a bull recalling  bim  to Rome; the question was not ripe for a




T        BREACH WITH RUM 0          173
decree in England, and was to be'hvestigated at Rome.
This looked like a response to the appeal which Henry
VIII. had himself made to Rome.  But viewed in the
light of the change in the aspect of affairs occasioned by
the reconciliation of the Ermperor and the Pope, the meaning of it was obvious, and wa.s from  the firsit perfectly
undematood by Henry VIII. We have a number of interesting documents relating to this business; the parties are
well matched; neither is cunning enough to deceive the
other, and they try to maintain a good understanding by
hypocritical fair speeches; but each sees through the other
entirely; Henry especially saw at once that the Pope would
elude him by'a side door and never fulfil his promise.
When the Legate's departure took place and Henry was
informed of his recall, he regarded it as the first retreating
step of the Curia; though he was not aware that just then
the peace between the Pope and the Emperor was signed,
and that it was an essential article of the agreement that the
unhappy Katharine should not be disgraced.
Henry now determined to take the matter into his own
hands. The first visible effect of this resolve was the fall of
Wolsey. Somebody must suffer for it; he could not attack
the Pope or the Emperoyr, d  so Wolsey had to pay the
penalty for his influence no having been sufficient to obtain
the divorce from the Pope. The Cardinal was deprived of
all his dignities and a his splendoubr and reduced to great
distress; he was not te mman to bec  it with stoical fortitude; his fall broke his heat.
This was a significant event; for W olsey was still a
Cardinal of the Romish Church, and had never, even in the
greatest extemidties, entirely neglected her interests. This
hindrance was now removed, and the consequences were
soon to be developed to their fullest extent,
TSE BREACH WITH RoaEo.-TH  RoDYAL S1UPRE.AC~T, 1534.
-THz WAR AGNST CATHOLICS AND PROTESTANTSo
-THE SECULARIS&O ON  F MONA TEREsB,-THzE Six
ARTICLES OrF 539
For a time the King eiged  thout a favourite, without
an all-powerful minister. Then he took Thomas Cromwell,;  a
skilful diplomatist, and in hs tendencies and bearing the
very antipodes of Woey   o a mn from whose faithful



1 74    THE REFOMA"     O    ~N ENGLAIM.
ness to conviction or independence any good influence ovev
the King could be hoped for, but whose ambition and
arrogance were more likely to have an influence for evil; he
was decidedly opposed to the temporal power of the
Church of Rome, anand  nemy to the interference of Rome
in English affairs, and therefore an opponent of the principles that had been represented by Wolsey.
It was probably under che incitement of Cromwell that
Parliament now began to stir. Up t  this time the King
had' eideavoured to keep down the national -opposition to
Rome in Parliament by more or less'intimidation, he now
left it to take its own courseo. The old complaints, increased
by Wolsey's extortions, were brought forward against the
financial and judicial extortions of the clergy; all (he previous subyects of dispute with Rome were again agitated
and, in the session of I529, the'wish was expressed that the
King should be considered "lthe sole head and sovereign,
arbiter and protector of the spiritual and temporal interests
of the nation."  The King and his ministers were manifestly
gratified at this spirit of.opposition, for it showed the Curia
that they did not stand alone, but were supported in opposing
it by the clear and publicly expressed opinion of the nation.
But just then another influence came into play, the
significance of which the King did not rightly estimate,
though it was working against him before his eyes, and now
in  53o-31, it began openly to manifest itself.
Thomas Cranmer, a highly educated ecclesiastic, who had
quietly pursued his studies under Luther's influence, a prudent, pliant man, not a sharply defined character, but a
thorough Lutheran at heart, had as Archbishop of Canterbury become, in 1532, primate of the English Church;
this promotion was the first defection of the King from the
old ecclesiastical policy, but he' certainly did not then know
to what an extent Cranmer was a Lutheran..
Bofh parties were still reluctant to push the matter to
extremes.  Rome was ready to carry on the negotiation,
and the King tried to justify himself'by theological authorities; large sums were expended to procure documents from
all the universities of Europe. But it was at the time when
Rome was on good terms with the Emperor, and therefore
no compliance was to be expected, and so the breach was
visibly widening, though neither party was willing, to utter
the decisive word.




ROYAL SUPR ACY.                    17S
But now many things combined to hasten the crisis; the
appointment of Cranmer, the encouragement of Parliament,
the declaration that the King was head: of the Church at
the instigation of the clergy, the abolition of Peter's Pence
and of Annats, and finally the marriage with Anne Boleyn
in January, I    -33, first celebrated in private, and then
solemnly proclaimed, and the divorce from Katharine by
the sentence of the English courts; these were the chief
elements of the open breach, and the sentence of excommunication could no longer be withheld.
Henry VIII. was hot the man to burn the bull as Luther
had done; he was by no means indifferent to the penalties
inflicted by the ancient Church, but he had sufficient aristocratic feeling to think himself deeply aggrieved, and treated
with base ingratitude. Had he not done a great deal for
the Pope, instituted trials for heresy and written against
Luther? and now he was excommunicated. His first relief
from the terrors of the bull was the feeling of having received an unmerited insult. He then proceeded to make a
decided counter-stroke.
Parliament was called, and under the impression of the
ban the following resolutions were carried unanimously: —
That the papal supremacy be abolished and the royal supremacy substituted.  That the abolition of Peter's Pence
and An'nats be confirmed; that the clergy hold only
the position of a convocation under the King, and no
longer of a Church under the authority of Rome. That all
take the oath of allegiance to the royal supremacy. Therein
was to be affirmed the invalidity of the first, and the legitimacy,of the second marriage of the King; Mary's disinhe.
ritarice and Elizabeth's right of inheritance; the acknow.
ledgment of the King as head' of the Church and "The
clergy shall preach Chnrist and His gospel with a pure heart
and in accordance with the words of Holy Scripture and the
traditions of othodox and Catholic fathers; they shall not
misrepresent anything, and in their prayers the King shall
be mentioned first as head of the English Church," 8c.
There was no question here of a change of faith, of an
adoption of the newer and purer teaching. The hierarchy
was silenced and'made subservient to the King, but all
else remained as before. The Romish dogmas were unaltered. Woe to him who attacked the mass, transubstan.
tiation, the worship of saints, the seven sacraments, or




1 76     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
the doctrine of good works; he was sure to be seized and
burned as a heretic. But woe to him  also who refused to
take. the oath of supremacy, who would not acknowledge
-the new royal papacy;  he was seized and hanged as a traitor.
It- was not a Reformation, not even a new ecclesiastical
administration, it was only a transfer of the supremaE
authority from the Pope to the King; the creed as well as
the forms of the ancient Church remained the same as,before; it was only that an essential difference had taken
place in the head of the constitution which would make
a continuance of friendship with Rome difficult, if not impossible.
This state of things was tolerable only to pliant, submis.
sive, and timid people; it was death to men of character
who openly confessed their convictions. Whoever, like
Sir Thomas More, refused to take the oath, though he had
formerly abetted the King in the execution of heretics, or
Bishop John  Fisher, was pursued and brought to  the
scaffold, and the same cruel measures were taken against
Protestant innovators. Besides the gallows for those whom
the King called traitors, there were the scaffold and the
stake, the former for distinguished, the latter for common
heretics.
If this state of things was to last, no more ruthless sport
with religious matters, no more fearful distraction of men's
consciences, could well be imagined. The old state of
things was put an end to, and nothing substituted for it,
but the unbounded-supremacy of the King and his personal
passions.  From  the record of the thirteen fearful years
which followed, leaving alone the King's marriages, I mention two points which were of great significance in the
subsequent constitution of the English State and Church;
the secularisation of Church property, and the- terrorism in
matters of religious faith.
As was the case everywhere where the ecclesiastical
controversy was taken up by the Crown,  the immense
riches of the Church and the monasteries were confiscated
in order to enrich the Crown. We have seen in the case of
Gustavus Vasa, what a powerful prince with the instincts ot
a ruler could accomplish with this booty. Had Henry VIII.
possessed the ambition, energy, circumspection, and sagacity
of Gustavus, this colossal accession. of wealth to the throne
might have been fatal-to English liberties.  Had Henry




CONFISCALTON OF CHU R.CH PROPERTY.   I 7'
been thne' thrifty, calculating stateslnan who would have hus.
banded this immense treasure, and invested it to advantage,
he would have left to the heirs of his Crown a capital which
would have enabled the Stuarts to free the royal sovereignty
froom all embarrassmlent, and to hlave rendered it entirely
independent.  But instead of this, thte Church property,
confiscated with so much severity, was sold without any
plan, at ridiculous prices, and the proceeds squandered in
pomp and luxury; for a time the Court revelled ia plenty,
but the old pecuniary difaculties returned in an incredibly
short time.
The squandered riches had not, however, melted away
altogether. The landed nobility obtained possession of the
estates; the great landowning class, which has to this hour
ruled and sustained the edifice of the English state, dates its
prosperity from this great sale  f Chlurch property instituted
by the frivolous King, just at the, tirine when, as he contemplated his suddenly acquired wealth, he thought himself the
greatest monarch in Christendom.
Coincident with this domestic revolution was.a reign ot
terror in religious matters, during which horrible cruelties
were perpetrated, and.which fearfully demoralised  the'nation.
England became the scene of a ierce religious war, which
year after year demanded innumerable sacrifices, and the
end of which no one could foresee, for ino one could answer
the question-What then is the right creed of this country,
and what is to arise out of this sea of ruins?  Parliament
itself played a contemptible part-it was the sport of the
royal humour. One day it drew up articles of faith, and the
next sa-t as an inquisition upon Catholics and.Protestants
alike; one day it voted the ecclesiastical estates as the King's
ptivate property, and added the next that. every one was to
believe what the King and his commissioners might hereafter dictate about religion and  the ordinances of the
Church.. One party only profited by this hopeless conf(iSion, the Roman Catholics in disguise in the King's Council,
Gardiner and Pole, who, Witih their cunningly devised
actics, contrlved to preserve as much as possible of the old
leaven.  If CrOmwell and Cranmer persecuted the Roma,
Catholics, Bishop Gardiner and' Cardinal Pole kept watch
over the Piotestants, and, -with the entirely arbitrary and
very narrow  line drawn between the gorbidden and per




178     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
mitted creed, it was not difficult for either party to justify
every act of violence.
The King wavered perpetually between contradictory
moods, and no one about him ventured to hold an inde.
pendent opinion. He played as frivolous a game with the
Church policy as he had done with the marriage question.
Enraged at the angry documents which issued from the
papal chair, he attacked the Catholics and permitted the
circulation of the Bible. This was in 1538; in the following
year Thomas Cromwell failed in a marriage project, and the
Papists obtained his ear again. Parliament was ordered to
settle six articles of faith, which could not but lead, and did
lead, to fresh persecutions,
x. The real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and
Transubstantiation.
2. The-sufficiency of communion in one kind only.
3. The unlawfulness-of the marriage of priests.
4. The obligation of vows of chastity.
5. The propriety of retaining private masses.
6. The expediency and necessity of auricular confession.
Severe penalties were attached to every infraction of
these laws. All marriages of priests, monks, and nuns were
declared invalid, and were punishable with death; the same
fate was reserved for those who neglected confession or the
supper, or had hitherto withdrawn from them. There was
not a single moral idea in these wretched transactions.
Henry VIII. left behind him a chaos from which the nation
had to extricate itself by severe struggles.




PART HII.
WTMe GERMAN REFORMATION FROM THE PEACE
OF NUREMBERG TO THE PEACE -OF
AUGSBURG, 1532-55.
CHAPTER XIV.
Favourable Circumstances for the Reformation from 1532-42. — The
Restoration in Wiirtemberg, 1534. —Spread of the New Doctrines
in spite'of the Excesses at Miinster and the Revolution at Lubeck,
x533-35.-The Emperor's Attetpts at Conciliation, I537-4i.His View of the Question. - Instructions and Proceedings of
Vice-Chancellor Held.-The League of Nuremberg, June, I538.
— The Discussion of Religion, the Interim of Ratisbon, and the
Decree of the Diet, July 29th, 1541.-Decided Progress of Pro.
testantism, 1538-42.-Adoption of it by Brandenburg and the
Duchy of Saxony, I539.-Interference of the'League of Schmalkald and the Controversy at Cologne.
THE SITUATION OF AFFAIRS FROM X532-42, AND THEIR
FAVOURABLE ASPECT FOR THE REFORMATION.
N  OTHING was decided by the Peace of Nuremburg,
but that both parties should keep the peace until the
final settlemrtent of the question.  The adherents of the
Augsburg Confession were permitted to hold their doctrines,
but those doctrines only, and the Emperor promised to stop
proceedings against the apostates. The Protestants, taking
into consideration the favourable aspect of things, took it
for a permanent peace, and did not imagine that any serious
attempt would be made to coerce them  back into the
Roman Catholic Church; but the Emperor regarded it
merely as as truce. He had come in 1530 with the fixed
intention of creating a reaction, but to his great disappointment he found the spirit of opposition stronger and more
universal.than ever, and he was only withheld from active




80     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
measures because in such a contest he could not entirely
rely upon his allies, France, Rome, and the Catholi6 princes
of Germany, and because he could not dispense with the
help of the Protestants against the Osman power. But his
programme remained the samle as before; the Protestants
must in one way or another be made to submit to the
Church; and this accomplished, Rome was to summon a
council, which should decide what reforms were needful.
It was thus that matters stood in 1532. At the last
critical moment the Protestants had formed a political
league at Schmalkald; this league was the only federal
power in the empire, and it appealed hazardous to the
Emperor to enter upon a conflict with it, as he could not
rely upon the princes who were friendly to him. Great
events then again intervened, which prevented him from
interfering in German affairs for another decade.  Once
more, therefore, Protestantism was protected from danger
by the entanglement of the Emperorin European politics.
During this period the Emperor was carrying on foreign
wars with various results. It was not long before he was at
war with France; this was occasioned by the same question
as before, and was not followed by more decisive results
The Emperor formed great projects; he thought of conquering the states of Barbary, and of thereby conferring an
inestimable benefit on Christendom. His schemes were in
part successful, but they withdrew him entirely from Germany. In the empire itself, the storm that had threatened
Vienna in x529, had only been averted for a time. The
Turks never appeared with so great a force as the first time,
but there was perpetual danger from this quarter; Hungary
was overrun again, the German territories threatened; in
short, a multitude of pressing difficulties entirely occupied
his attention and energies in European politics, and the
Protestants were allowed full play.
Even if the Emperor had been disposed, he could not proceed against them, while he was now in Spain, now in Italy,
where the new Pope was adhering to the worldly policy of his
predecessor against him, now involved in conflicts with the
French, the Tfdrks, or the people of Barbary; moreover,
excepting in religious matters, the Protestant princes were
more devoted to him than the Catholic. The chivalrous
Philip of Hesse especially entered into the Imperial schemes
as great national enterprises, and offered his services as




THE RESTORATION IN WUIRTEMBERG.   181
commander of the Austrian troops against the-Turks in
Hungary. The Imperial Court therefore spared him for
the present, while its relation to the Catholic princes was
sometimes cool and sometimes inimical.
By a favourable combination of circumstances, therefore,
the *Protestants were able not only to avail themselves of
the protection of the Peace, but to go beyond the strict
limits of its provisions. Strictly speaking, it only granted
toleration to the subscribers of the Confession; no further
spread of the doctrines was to be permitted. But who was to
prevent -it, ift individuals here and there, or- even whole
listricts, were converted?  In case of need, the League of
Schmalkald could have rendered assistance had there been
any oppo.sition,.but the Emperor was powerless to offer
any.
THE  RESTORATION  IN WJURTEMBERG, I534.
Duke Ulrch'of Wfiirtemberg, against whom the peasantry
had been so embittered in x513-14, had succumbed in the
storm which broke over him in consequence of his feud
with the Huttens,'and had been driven from his country
and subjects; the duchy had been temporarily taken pos-.session of by the Emperor, -and was occupied by foreign
troops. This had been accomplished by the sworn hatred
of an extraordinary coalition; the whole country was against
the Duke; his godless government had incensed nobles,
citizens, and peasants; the Swabian League was against him,
and his own relatives were ready to enrich themselves with
his booty. The blow had been aimed at him successfully,
but it did not bring succour to the country.
It was discovered that the most frightful tyranny of a
native prince may, under some circumstances, be more
tolerable than the yoke of foreign soldiery. Ill as Ulrich
had governed, still he was a hereditary-ruler, and such an
one does not forget that a country belongs to him and his
house, and must be preserved for it. A bond of union
exists between the ruler and his people, but any similar
relation with a foreign garrison is inconceivable. Imperial
troops and the troops of the Swabian League occupied the
country, and who inlght next get possession of it nobody
knew. Thus it was oppressed and drained on every side.
The period frorni 1520 till after i530 was one of arbitrary




182     THE R.EFORMATION' IN GERMANY.
rule, during which the people were sighing for Duke Ulrich.
Not that there was, any security that he would return any
better than before, but he had a son, now grown up, who
was very promising.  It was one of those rare cases in
which nature gives an unworthy ruler a son and successor who causes his father's vices to be forgotten.
Prince Christopher was exactly the opposite of his father;
he was as earnest and moral as his father was frivolous and
licentious; as severe to himself as Ulrich was to others; as
economical and conscientious in expenditure as his father
was reckless and extravagant. And the country was his by
right; his legitimate rights were favoured by other rulers,
his exdellent qualities gained the hearts of the Swabian
people, and besides all this there was another very important consideration.
Ulrich and his son Christopher had taken refuge at
M6mpelgard, on the confines of Alsace and Burgundy.
The young prince had there adopted the new doctrines, and
it soon became known that he was one of their most
zealous adherents, and that his father was disposed to mtake
concessions on this point if he were allowed to return to
his country.
Thus it came about, that in the circles of the League
of Schmalkald the project ripened of restoring the dukedom
of Wiirtemberg. The people were sullenly rebelling under
the oppression of a foreign. yoke, and Protestantism had
spread its branches throughout the country.* The proposal to restore the legitimate house was of course made
with the understanding that it would add to the Protestant
ranks, and form another member of the League of
Schmalkald.
The Elector of Saxony and the Reformers, Luther and
Melancthon, had scruples; they called to. mind the letter
of the Peace, by which any such arbitrary extension of their
creed was forbidden, and warned the league that it might
unawares give rise to a sharp conflict with the Emperor.
But Philip of Hesse overcame all scruples, and it was
really accomplished by him, and not by the league.
Philip, who was the grandson of a princess of Wiirtemberg, had for ten years been espousing Ulrich's cause* Rommel, Philip der Grossmiithige, I830.  Heyd. Ulrich von
Wi'irtemberg, I84x. Kugler, Gerzog Ulrich von Wiirtemberg. Ul,
mann U. v. Wirtemberg.




THE RESTORATION IN WURTEN;BERG.   183,
had given him refuge, interceded with the Emperor for him,
and had in vain appealed for aid to Brunswick, Bavariar
and Saxony. The negotiations he entered into at Bar-leduc in I534, with King Francis, were more successful, and
led to a promise of subsidies without any more burdensome
conditions than the mortgage of Ulrich's possessions on
the left bank of the Rhine.  Money was also demanded
in other quarters, both -from  princes and cities, and an
agreement entered into with Ulrich himself.
Favourable as the circumstances might appear, the
Emperor being in Spain, Ferdinand embarrassed by
Turkey and Hungary, France won over, the Swabian
League dissolved, and eminent princes in favour of the
enterprise, still it is evident that Philip regarded it seriously
enough, from the regulations he left behind him in case of
life or death, and the splendid force he assembled; of this
the Hessian nobles formed the nucleus.
The enemy was utterly unprepared for the attack. On
the 23rd of April the Landgrave set out from Cassel; crossed
the Maine not far from Frankfort; and as Frankfort and the
Palatinate refused him a passage, he rapidly made his way
by Erbach and Furstenau into Siwabia, From Neckarsulm,
Weinsberg, and Neuenstadt on the Neckar, he advanced
towards the enemy, who, expecting that he would have
come through the Palatinate, had stationed themselves on
the Eng, near Vaihingen, and now first assembled at
Heilbronn and Laufen. A decisive engagement took place
on the 13th of May, in which the Landgrave was victorious. With great promptness and skill he followed up
his victory. Within four weeks Wiirtemberg was taken, the
Landgrave's troops had advanced-to Upper Swabia, and by
the 29th of June the victory was confirmed by the Peace of
Cadan.  The Imperial troops took their departure, and
Duke Ulrich made his entry amidst the rejoicings of the
people; he brought with him release from a foreign yoke,
and liberty for the new doctrines.
King Ferdinand, the Emperor's brother, renounced his
claim to the duchy; the House of Hapsburg reserved to
itself certain rights, in consideration of which the Duke
and his son were reinstated. So feeble had the Imperial
sovereignty already become, that a single resolute prince
was able by a coup-de-main, in time of peace, to rob it of a
possession which it had much coveted.




2 84     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANJY.
By this event, a Protestant wedge was driven into
Southern Germany, an important accession gained for the
Protestant cause, and the League of Schmalkald enriched
by a valuable outpost. The events which took place about
the same time, of an opposite tendency, were not sufficient
to counterbalance it,
In Westphalia, especially  t' Mdijnster,* partly at the
instigation of foreign fanatics, that hideous caricature of
Christian liberty and heathen licentiousness lad developed
itself which resulted in the extreme form of Anabaptism, and
a mad kingdom had been set up. This mixture of real enthui~
Siasm, misinterpretation of Scripture, unbridled sensuality, and
mere coarse depravity, represented a frightful form of mental
aberration, and had nothing wvhatever in comImon with Protestantism, or even with the original doctrine of Anabaptism.
This "Tailor kingdom," t this -theocracy with plurality of
wives, communism, and bestial licentiousness, had nothing
whatever of Christianity left in it. The professors of the
original doctrine of Arnabaptism entirely declined to bear any
of the responsibility of it; and when the rebels were routed
by the neighbouring Catholic princes, the Protestants could
not complain that it was a victory gained over themselves..
The  Protestants, therefore, remained  perfectly  quiet.
They felt, Qf course, that in this case,'as in'others, the
extermination of. fanaticism would involve the destruction
of healthy germs of Protestantism.: but that could not be
helped; it would have bee  a'far greater evil to have made
common cause with John of Leyden.
It was but a wild reproduct-ion of the'revolution of
524.-5, in which also the Protestants had taken no part.
In Wiirtemberg, on the'contrary, genuine Protestantism
obtained the victory over the established Catholic government, which was no less than the Imperial government
itself.
I need not say.that other conversions took place peaceably; that in Northern and Central Germany whole districts
went over to the cause-Anhalt and Ponmerania, Augsburg,
Frankfort, Hanover, Hamburg, and Kemptenl; nobody
hindered them, the League was the only -power in Germany,
~ Cornelius, Berichte der Augenzeugen, I853.' Dessen Gescblichte
des Miinsterschen Aufruhlrs, I855.
f'John of Leyden, the lea-der of this sect, who was. alled ". King of
Zion," was a tailor. —TR,




A.TTEMPTS AT RECONXCILIATION.o            I8
and it might be expected that this would rise in revolt'as
soon as ever danger threatened.
The disgraceful end -of the disturbances at Miinster could
not be considered a misfortune for Protestantism, neither
could the downfall of the rule of Wullenwever at Lubeck*
in August, 1535. The widespread dominion of the Haanseatic League and its mighty capital came to an end; the
democracy of Lubeck lost its dominant position, but the
Lutheran doctrines did not fall with it. As Ltjtheranism
iwould from the first have nothing to do with worldly politics,
it mostly escaped in Germany the vicissitudes which might
have been fatal to it. The vast progress that it was making
did not escape the Emoperor, but neither did it escape hire
that, he could not prevent it. -He stood between two fires.
He would have liked on the one hand to put down Protestantism, which is proved by the countless processes in the
Supreme Court against the Protestants; -and, on the other,
he would have liked to settle accounts with Rome.  He
still demanded a council to make. reforms, but when the
arrangements wrere at length made for it, and a council was
convoked at Mantua, in May, x537, he was not in reality
any nearer than before to attaining his object. The Protest.
ants acted as if everything had been settled by the Peace
of Nuremberg, and Pope Paul III. preferred to put up.with
schisim rather than to concede reforms.
THE EMPEROR's ATaPEmTs AT REcoNCYLxATION, 1538-4r.
How the aspect of things was regarded by the Emperor,
we learn from  some confidential confessions in his de,
spatches. About the time that the foregoing events occurred,
and the preponderancy of the League of Schmaralkald was on
the increase, he gave, in October, 1536, an instruction to
his Vice-Chancellor, Held, for his brother Frederic, the con.
tents of which are very instructive as to his st-andpoint.t
He lays great stress upon the fact that-religious discord
in Germany was waxing greater and greater-that if it were
not prevented, the political position of the Emperor and his
government in Germany would be at an end.  But the
Emperor required a strong reserve in Germany especially
Waitz. OV-ulenwever, 1855-6.
t LaZo Corresponde. z. From the Archives at Brussels.




186     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
against France, and therefore measures must be taken with
out further delay to redress the evil.
He then complains that the Pope was so little disposed to
help, that he persevered in his cold or hypocritical attitude,
and would not seriotusly entertain the idea bf the council.
If there should be no change, he asked his brother, ih profound confidence, whether there was not some method of disposing Germany to such a council, in case of need, without
the Pope or King Francis I., who could- not be persuaded
iito it? Should that fail, they must at once look out for
some other means -of once for- all preventing any further
declension from t'he faith, and of enforcing the terms of the
Treaty of Nuremberg. Perhaps it might then be possible to
convene, if not a council, a national assembly, at which the
question might be satisfactorily adjusted.
Hie then wrote to his sistet Mary, the widowed Queen of
Hungary, and counselled her to take every means of preventing further divisions.
Meanwhile, Vice-Chancellor Held, by the way in which
he understood and endeavoured to carry out the Imperial
commission, only threw oil upon the flames. Instead.of
attempting to mediate and conciliate according to-his'instructions, he proceeded bluntly and imperiously-demanded
in an arrogant tone that the Protestants should, without
delay, submit to the Papal Council and the decrees of the'
Supreme Court, and when they refused, remembering that,
even in the terms of the convocation of the council, the
extermination of the " pestilent Lutheran heresy" was
spoken of, and that in the Supreme Court only sworn
enemies of Protestantism had seats, Held rushed from one
Catholic court to-another, inciting and urging them on, till,
on June Ioth, I538, the League of Nuremberg was formed,
in which George of Saxony, the two Dukes of Brunswick,
Albett of Brandenburg, Bavaria, King Ferdinand, and
Salzburg united against the League of Schmalkald.
This Catholic league was not what the Emperor wanted,
and, even according to the views of the instigator of it, it
was a great error; an agreement like this, only entered into
on paper, without arms, without money, only called the
Protestants out, without any sufficient force to oppose them.
The} Emperor's sister saw this plainly, and her reply to his
exhortations contained a faithful reproof for these doings.
In the autumn of x538 she wrote: "As things stand in




VICE-CHANCELLOR HELD.               187
Germany, we must try to retain every friendship there that
we Can.  Thus Philip of Hesse was one of the ablest
princes in the, empire, and. he was loyal to the Emperor; a
permanent good understanding should have been sought
with him, instead of which Vice-Chancellor Held had given
him and his allies great offence, and excited their just suspicions by the League of Nuremberg. Why was not the
matter allowed to rest until a. general council should be
held?  Every -effort must be made to heal the religious
differences peaceably, and to this end a good understanding
must be maintained with the most able princes, and especially with Philip of Hesse."
To a certain extent the Emperor followed his sister's
advice, but with the hesitation and reservation which
mark his whole policy in this matter from first to last.
Instead of proceeding according to Held's plan, with opposition leagues and persecution, negotiation and religious
discussions were tried for a time; these took place in 1540
and 1541, at Hagenau, Worms, and Ratisbon.  An attempt
was made to come to a peaceful understanding on all points
on which there had been the nearest approach to agreement
since i517, and nowa for the first andlast time, the question
was seriously discussed at Rome, whether an attempt should
not be made to restore the unity of the Church by honestly
meeting the Protestants' justifiable demands for reforms.
The cardinals with whom  Pope Paul III. Isurrounded
himself at the beginning of his government were cultivated,
enlightened ecclesiastics, and several of them, such as the
intellectual Contarini of Venice, Sadolet,-Pooie; Morone,
and at that time even Caraffa, who was afterwards, as Paul
IV., the Pope of the reaction, were avowedly in favour of
reform. A remarkable project of reform had emanated from
this circle, which, though it did not go far enough for the
Protestants, was a significant indication of the then prevailing sentiments of the Curia.
The princes' being generally in favour ofa peaceful settlement of the question, the attitude of the Curia secured that
the discussions which were being held should be of a con,
ciliatory character. If there was, however, any approximation on questions of pure faith, on those relating to Church
government and the Papal authority, the parties were as far
apart at the end as at the beginning. But there was one
advantage in this state of indecision, that the -peace con



cluded in.532 was not disturbed; tat, by a favourable
interpretation of it, it even allowed Protestantism to make
progress, and every fresh adherent of the Confession of Augsburg enjoyed the same toleration as those who then sub.
scribed to it.
Thus the interim of Ratisbon arose, and the decree of
the Diet of 29th July, 154x. In order to secure the aid of
the Protestants against the Turks, the Emperor conceded
as much as possible; besides an exhortation to the Pope
"to institute Christian reg~ulations and reforms, which
would conduce to good, seemly, and wholesome administration of the churches;" there followed a confirmation of
the Treaty of Nuremberg, in which accusations to the
Supreme Court and the clauses about new converts were
omitted. The exclusion of Protestants from the Supreme
Court ceased, the pending processes were discontinued
uAtil a general or national council was held, or a general
Diet for the settlement of this question; and in conclusion
it was ordained " that if anybody else should wish to adopt
their religion he was not to be prevented."
This,.however, was not sincere, for just at the same time
the Emperor renewed the League of.Nuremberg against the
Protestants, and proclaimed that he had induced the Pope
to join it. Moreover, he was just then giving up all idea of
a real reconciliation for ever, and was only waiting for
better tmes    take open measures against these incorrigible people.
Meanwhile, favoured by the temporary truce, important
changes had taken place, which taught the Emperor that
the progress of the new doctrine far-surpassed his fears.
DECIDED  PROGRESS  OF  PrOTrESTJANTISM,  1539-44..BRANDENBURG-.-DUCY oF SAXONY.-BRUNSWICK. —
COLOGNE.
To the progress which Protestantism had made since the
Treaty of Nuremberg in Wiirtemberg, Pomerahia, Anhalt,
Mecklenburg, and the Imperial cities, may be added the
conversion of two whole countries whose rulers had hitherto
been among the most faithful adherents of the ancient
Church-Brandenburg and Albertine Saxonyl the bishoprics
of Magdeburg, Halberstadt, and Naumburg had also gone
over




D3 -2IDENBURG                  a189
The Elector J 3,achim  of Brandenburg was justly considered to be one of the most decided opponents of the
Lutheran doctrines; he had all his life adhered strictly to
the old faith, and made strenuous endeavours to prevenit his
country from falling into heresy after his death. But Brandenburg. was surrounded by Protestant influences-on the
north by Pomerania and  Mecklenburg, which had al-.
ready gone over; on the west by the bishoprics on the
Elbe, Magdeburg, Halberstadt, and Naumburg; and on the
south by the- Electorate of Saxony, which had'been inclined to the new doctrine from the beginning; besides, in
the multiplicity of states under the old empire, no country
could be isolated as it can now-the states everywhere ran
one into.another. When the Elector Joachim I. died in 15399
it came to light that the Protestant doctrines numbered.thousands of adherents, and that, in spite of all his strict
measures, a Protestant community had been secretly formed,
which was only waiting for a favourable moment to appear
openly. Xis sons, whose adherence to the old faith he had
taken every means to secure, did not continue his policy.
The younger, the Margrave John, openly declared himself
for Luther, and was the first to grant. unlimited freedom to
the new doctrines in his little inheritance. The elder, the
Elector Joachim II., remained a Catholic himself for years,
but he allowed the impulses of his people free coursei
renounced the fanatical'party among the Catholic princes,:
abolished- the mass, and began to reform  the Church.
It appeared  that he dreaded open  defection. and a
quarrel with the Emperor, but he was in fact already' a
convert.
In this case, as in' Abertine Saxony, it was not the rulers
who gave the imptise to refonk,'but the people. In both
countries the rulers would have abided by the old system,
but'when it would not work any Iongjer.they accommodated
themselves to circumsi.in ces  In Albertine Saxony the- old
faith outwardly retairned its dominion till i539. Any one
who, publicly avowed. lu.ts:era-.n sentiments was'threatened
with vengeance and prSi.shed severely enough, but it was
well known that there were thousands who did not hesitate
to walk a few miles and go over to the Lutheran Church in
Ernestine Saxony.'
Duke'George was a warmn and sincere adherent of the
old faith, and he was thoroughly a party man. But he




go90    THE REpORMATON IN GERMANY.
could not prevent his brother-Henry from  allowing free
course to the new doctrines in the little territory of
Freiberg-Wolkenstein, over which he ruled, still less could
he prevent that his Ernestine relative should permit Lutheranism to spread in his splendid Electorate, or that his own
subjects should cross the border; and thus, in spite'of all his
restrictions, heresy found its way into the city of Leipzig.
The idea weighed heavily on the old gentleman's heart
that the new doctrines would make their entry into his
country over his neawly-made grave. He proj.cted many
schemes which show his earnest desire to javert it at all
hazards,  Thus in his will he made the unheard-of provision that in case of need his legitimate successor should
be set aside; that after his death a sort of provisional
government should be established, composed of individuals
devoted to him and the old doctrines, and in which King
Ferdinand, the Emperor's brother, was to take part. This
involved the entire exclusion of his own family in favour of
the house of Hapsburg, and this desperate measure was
adopted in order to bind his country to the old system.
But still more rapidly than Duke George ever foreboded'
in his most gloomy moments did the old Church system fall
to pieces in Albertine Saxony after his death. On the
evening of his death, r7th April,.  539,  Duke Henry
appeared in Dresden, accompanied by the Wittenberg reformers, and he was supported by the League of Schmalkald,
which had twenty thousand infantry and four thousand
cavalry at its disposal; the long-suppressed spirit of the
new doctrines broke out everywhere, and a single visitation
of the churches, on July 6th, sufficed to accomplish the
reform, or rather to bring to light the conversion which had
long ago taken place.
It was under the impression. produced by all these transformations that, about 1540, the Emperor's attempts at
reconciliation were made. It was obvious that the Protestants and the League of Schmalkald were in a decided
majority, and still greater successes' might be feared. In the
south, Protestantism had been already adopted by Wiirtemberg and the great imperial cities of Nuremberg, Augsburg,
Ulm, Constance, and Strasburg, which weighed heavily in
the scale; then by the whole of central Germany, Thuringia, Saxony, Hesse, part of Brunswick, and the territory of
the Guelphs; in the north, by the bishoprics of Magdeburg,




PROGRESS OF PROTESTANTISM.              19 
Halberstadt, and Naumburg, and Hildesheim was at least
inclined to join them; by East Friesland, the Hanse Towns,
Holstein and Schleswig, Pomerania, Mecklenburg, Anhalt,
Silesia, the Saxon states, Brandenburg, and Prussia.
Of the larger states that were closed against it there
remained only Austria, Bavaria, the Palatinate, and the
Rhenish Electorates; how long Duke Henry of Brunswick
might keep himself as an oasis in the midst of the desert of
North German heresy *was very doubtful.  The states
capable of resistance were only Austria, Bavaria, the Palatinate, and the ecclesiastical Rhenish provinces. But even
these were beginning to vacillate, and it is probably correct
to ascribe to the indications of this an important influence
-upon the'Eniperor's resolutions.
The idea that. the Lutheran p5ropaganda would spread
and- increase in strength, that sooner.or later it would be
impossible to arrest it, that his own inheritance must
finally be overrun by it, and that with the probable desei*r'
tion of the ecclesiastical electorates the last support 6f the
imperial authority would fall-all this had a decided influence on the course of events which led to the Schmalk4ld war.
In Austria itself, in spite of the Convention of Ratisbon
of x524, that Protestant movement began-which at the end
of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century
brought over by far the greater part of the country to Protestantism, and it was only the hofrors of the Thirty Years'
War that rooted it out. Among, the landowning nobility,
the peasantry, and in some'of the cities, the spirit of
innovation grew stronger and stronger; and embarrassed as
the country was by Turkey and Hungary, suspiciously
watched by Bavaria, and the imperial authority weakened
by entanglement with foreign affairs, it was impossible to
meet the earnest demand of the States for reform by an
absolute refusal.
A similar state of things existed in Bavaria. A Church
visitation by the Convention of Ratisbon had shown the
state of the clergy. The investigation brought an abyss of
abuses. to light, and increased the desire for thorough
reform. If the desire were granted, there was no saying
where it would stop, and whether it would not end in the
country's going over, to Lutheranism.
The new doctrines had gained the day'in Palatine Neu



t92     TH1TV    FORMATION IN G- E
burg, and i was not likely that die old Palratnal electorates,
surrounded as'they wer  by purely Protestant disticts,
would hold oit much longer. Otto Henry had laboured
zealously to keep them Catholic; Louis V. had mediated as
a shrewd diplormlatist beteen Lutheranism and Catholicism;
but Frederic II. was by no means the man to witstand the
universal tendency.
In not one of these cases had any pressure been brought
to bear from  above; it came from  beneath,'and  the
authorities yielded to it. Of men like John of Saxony and
Philip of Hesse, it may be said that they were Lutherans
heart and soul, and laboured actively to spread it; but in
Aastria, Bavaria, the Palatinate, and Brandenburg, the rulers
would have kept to the old fait had it been possible.
Among the North German princes there was but one on
whose unconditional devotion the Emperor could rely; this
was -Duke Henry of Brunsvwick, the same whom Luther
handled more roughly in- controversy than he did Henry
VIII,  ie was a man who, though not exactly a dissolute
buffoon, was utterly unworthy to wear a crown, and he was
extremely active in fomenting quarrels for the Emperor and
his brother. He fuimed and stormed incessantly against the
Protestants, more from his own uneasiness than because the
danger was really so great. He was a restless, adventurous
spirit, and was given to meddle with the neighbouring imperial
cities. Goslar had pulled down a few monasteries, and was
therefore laid under an interdict by the Supreme Court.
This.sentence, however, like all others of the kind, had
been expressly declared void by the Declaration of Ratisbon, but the Duke of Brunswick insisted upon its being
carried out. Besides this, -he had made all sorts of disturbances in the town of Brunsvxc~ k. Although warned by
King Ferdinand that he would have no help from  the
imperial side, he would lnot be quiet, and was at length
attacked by the League of Schmalkald, which had long
wished to come to an engagement with its unfriendly neighbour. Together with the forces of the two cities, the troops
of the Landgrave and the Saxon Elector advanced twenty
thousand strong  the Duke fled, his country was conquered,
and Protestantisn  established. This was in the summer of
1542.
This event produced great uneasiness at the Imperial
Court, but another case was a still greater blow. The eccle~




fly.e  -E H EITY OF BRUNSWICK.             193
slastical electorate of Cologne was oil the point of being loss
t'the Catholic Church.  If tnis took plahce, it would make
an irreparable breach in the coastitution of the empire, and
no one could. tell how long the neighbojring ecclesiastical
states might stand firm.
It was no s2neotmmon thing for the ecclesiastical foundA.
tions to be lost to the Romish Church by the conversion of
their dignitaries.  The first memorable instance of this was
the case of the master of the;German Order, Duke Albert
of Brandeuhburg, who, in x aS, in despair proclaimed his
country a secular state, left the Church with his Order, and
made himselfa temporal hereditary ruler.
This was not at first regarded as of much importance, for
the country was looled upon as lost before, and moreover it
did not belong to the empire. But when the same thing
occurred at Hiaberstadt,  Magdeburg, and Naumburg, it
began to look ominous, and woold be still more so if the
Rhenish electoral sates were seized v/tth  the spirit of
defection.
It was only in Germany that ecclesiastical principalities,
except the Papal States, existed. In France, England, and
Spain the bishops had long been deprived of their temporal
power. This amalgamation of temporal and spiritual power
was one of the essential conditions of the old German
empire, and it was only at the beginniag of this centurt/
that the anomaly was abolished d  at the time  of which we
slaeak it was still. in full forc. Half a hundred bishops,
wielding temporal power, scattercd over the greater part of
the country, gave the Catholic Church isn Germany a very
formidable and almost unassailable powrex  In the first rank
stood the electoral stSat es-  of Mayence%  Cologne, Treves, and
Salzburg; then the Westphalian archbishoprics on the Elbe
and the Weser,  ziirzourg-, Bamberg, Freising, Augsbi.rg,
and Ratisbon.  It was a fine array of ecclesiastical  states,
and if they once began to be secularised, the Church would
lose a powerful support.   n out age on ly a portion of themr
remained, and when they were suppressed the previous
German imperial constitution became impossible.
The defection of a Rom-an Catholic archbishopric aEmong
the. Rhenish electorates was therefore a great event; it
would, if it took place, change the essential character of the
imperial constitution.  The Electoral Board would then
h1ave a Protestant majority; there were already Pr6testants
12




194     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
in It, Saxony, Brandenburg, and the Palatinate; if they were
joined by Electoral Cologne there would be four against
three, and in every future election of an Emperor the Protestant creed would gain the day. It followed as a matter:of course that the house of Hapsburg.would be excluded
from the empire.
In the evening of his days'the Archbishop of Cologne,
Hermann von Wied, declared his conviction of the truth of
the' Protestant doctrines; he began to invite Protestant
theologians, and seemed resolved to carry out the Refor.
mation in Cologne by virtue of the decree of 1526. This
would make a breach in the German ecclesiastical states,
and establish on the nether Rhine, between Westphalia and
the Emperor's possessions in Holland, a' fortress which
would soon be impregnable. If the enterprise succeeded,
others would be sure to follow. Hermann von Wied was a
man devoid of self-interest or ambition, whose- only desire
was to act in accordance with his conscience; but there were
other ecclesiastics whose motives were less pure, and who
were tempted to make use of Protestantism in order to
become temporal hereditary rulers.
The archbishop found sympathy with the inferior clergy,
the secular states, and the country people, but not with the
chapter or the population of Cologne. The decision was long
in the balance; the Emperor's nearest interests forbade his
allowing it to take its course. The events at Brunswick
and Cologne would forebode an entire revolution in German
affairs if they passed unheeded. If the Emperor waited a
few years' longer, the conquests of Protestantism would
acquire a legal standing; the new doctrines, which already
possessed so powerful a reserve in the nation, would then
have overpowered the chief constituent parts of the empire,
and a restoration such as the Emperor had always projected'could no longer be thought of.'There was another reason
which induced the Emperor' to take active measures. He
had persisted in the idea that ecclesiastical affairs would be
finally arranged by a council. There was a time when it
would have been a not unwelcome'expedient to the adherents of the new doctrines, who had not yet " protested."
Had they been offered a council in x 518, 15i9, and 152I, instead of being threatened with excommunication, the schism
would have been avoided, and the innovators would not
have been able to boast of a:consolidated power. But all




RECONCILIATION IMPOSSIBLE.           195
this was changed after 1526; after the Protestants had their
own churches and regulations for public worship, any return
became every'year more difficult, and the breach became
wider and wider. The changes that took place between
that time and'I 532 were secured by the Peace of Nuremberg; and for the still greater changes that took place after.
wards, formal recognition had been extorted at Ratisbon.
It was no longer of any use to talk to the Protestants of a
coincil; for them the question of legality was settled, their
own Church system'was established, the Reformation in
Germany had, an undoubted preponderance both in extent
and internal strength; and this they would openly sacrifice
if they did btut theoretically submit to the papal authority.
It was easy to say, " We will grant reforms, but then you
must submit to the Pope;" no'sincere Protestant could any
longer accept these terms without renouncing'the vital principles of his party.
Increasing anxiety at the threatening aspect of the Reformation-the idea that the council and the unity of the
Church must be secured at the eleventh hour, or would be
lost for ever, turned the scale, and decided the Emperor to
adopt the most serious measure.




The Sehmahlald War, /i46-7.-The Edliperor's Preparations foe
War after 1544.-Security, Dissensions, and. Negligence of the
Schmalkald Party, 1545-6.-Duke Maurice of Saxony, his character and policy —League with the Emperor, June, 1546.-The
War, from the summer of 1546 to the spring of 1547. —Pitiful
Warfare of the Allies on the Danube.'-Invasion of Electoral
Saxony by Maurice.-Battle of Miihlberg, 24th April, I547.0
THE EMPERQOR' PREPARATIONS FOR WAR AFTER 1544.
SECURITY, DISSENSIONS, AND  NEGLIGENCE  OF  THE
SCHrMALKALD PARTYr
rn'HE Emperor still maintained an appearance of conci-. liation, but his resolutions were taken. He opened'
and closed the Diet at Spire in I544 with smooth words,
and in the decree of June in the same yeart confirmed the
previous concessions, and, with special emphasis on his own,desire for reforms, he called upon every state of the empire
to form plans for their unanimous accomplishment; but
none of this was sincere.  Preparations for a struggle were
already made, and his purpose was to lull the Schmalkald
party into illusive security.  He had just successfully concluded his fourth war with France.  Early in September he
had advanced victoriously into the vicinity-of Paris, further
than any German  Emperor since Otto II., and had suddenly
concluded a peace more moderate in its conditions than is
often granted to a vanquished foe in such circumstances.
The Emperor wanted a lasting peace, and a trustworthy
ally against the heretics in Germany.  By the Treaty of
Crespy of the x4th of September a joint action against the
apostates was agreed upon, which suffices to reveal the
Emperor's tactics.
* Maurenbrecher, Karl V. und die Deutschen Protestanten, 1545.55.;Puss'eldorf. 865.




imm,ir-EROR'S TACTICS.             9 7
In Germany he allayed the suspicions of the Protestants
by a promise of reforms-if not by a council, certainly by a
national assembly —and, in return, the Protestants were to
be at his disposal against France and the Turks, though in
France he was securing a companion in arms against them.
All these events were only separated by a few months, and
the great error of the Schmalkald party was that they put
faith in the Emperor's sincerity. They forgot that he only
reluctantly conceded the peace of Nuremberg in f532, that
ten years later he was only compelled by necessity to con.
firm it, and that they ought to be continually on their guard
against him. They were so elated by the progress of their
cause, and the increase of their power, that they put aside
every thought of fresh danger, aided- the Emperor bravely
against France and the Turks, and thus helped to forge the
chains that were intended for themselves..
By 1544 the Emperor had resolved upon war, and the
outbreak of it was only a question of time. The -following
year passed away in fruitless efforts on both sides to come
to terms, but animosity increased until a breach was'inevib
table. Then the catastrophe happened to Henry of Bruns.
wick.
By the campaign of a542 he had been deprived of his
territory. With at least the apparent concurrence of
the Emperor it had been sequestrated by the League of
Schmalkald. Meanwhile the exile had procured money and
troops in order to make an attack in the latter part of the
year.  But his defeat at Kahlfeld, near Nordheim, on
October 21, 1545, put an end to all his hopes, and made
him a prisoner in the hands of the victors.
Besides many ominous signs and disquieting rumours, it
was significant, that at the new Diet at Worms, May, 1545,
there was no talk of carrying out the concessions of Spire,
though the Council of Trent was urgently recommended.
The Landgrave Philip said it seemed to him like tantalizing
a child with an apple. A fresh discussion of religion was
arranged for the next year; meanwhile the position of
affairs become day by day more critical. The meeting took
place without any sincere desire to come to an understanding, and separated with noisy altercation.
In the summer of 1546, a convention of the League of
Schmalkald took place at Frankfort, and it was found that
its. power had been overrated.  The Landgrave's worst




I98     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
fears'were realised. As early as in i539 he had said to
Bucer, "In the campaign in WUrtemberg all were led by
him, but, now several wanted to lead. Too many cooks
spoil the broth. The Protestant League must not be made
an idol of.  The Christian ranks did not always hold
Christian sentiments —a great deal that was worldly was
mixed up with them. Many neglected the duty of contributing, and, when it came to the point, still more would
draw back who were now complaining of the peace."
All this was verified even before it came to an engagement. The cities disputed with the princes; an important
neighbour, Prince  Maurice of Saxony, equivocated;
the Elector John Frederic, the extent of whose dominions
entitled him to command, was troublesome; and alarm at
the imperial preparations prevented some of the allies from
making any attempt at assembling their forces. The Land.
grave's attempt to get an explanation of some ominous
proceedings of the imperial party were answered by Granvella with smooth speeches; and at the last meeting at
Spire, March, 1546, at which Charles and his ministers
were present, although the discussions were carried on
with an unmistakable object in a peaceable tone, they
produced a disquieting effect upon the Landgrave. The
negotiations mainly related to three points: whether there
should be a Council of Trent or a National Council, to
the affairs of Cologne, and the fulfilment of the concessions of Spire. On all three points, in spite of outward
Complaisance, the imperial party kept inexorably to its own
policy
Meanwhile, on the i8th of February, I546, Luther had
died. We must suppose from his views that he would have
counselled peace to the last, and with his death one obstacle
to war was gone.
At the Diet at Ratisbon, thinly attended, and with a
majority for the Emperor, the breach was still more obvious.;
the Emperor had formed his alliances, and no longer took
any pains to conceal from the States that there would be
war; only, indeed, against the disturbers of the peace who
had been guilty of high treason. The foreign alliances of
the Protestants had been partly dissolved by the Emperor,
as in France and England; were partly worthless, as in
Denmark; and in some cases any benefit had been pre.
vented by discord among themselves, as in Switzerland.




NEGLIGENCE OF THE LEAGUE.            199
For a long time Philip reckoned upon the husband of his
eldest daughter, Agnes, but even that illusion at length
vanished.
Thus as war became- inevitable the prospects of the
league grew darker.  A league can never compare in
fighting power with a single state, and particularly. when,
as in this case, it was composed of members of unequal
strength. The most powerful was the Elector of Saxony,
but he was nrot competent to command; the Landgrave,'who was less powerful, would have been competent, but
then a Landgrave must not command an Elector. In 1532
Luther had said to Philip, who was dissatisfied with the
imperfect peace, that an imperfect peace without bloodshed
should always be thankfully accepted. " Do -not deceive
yourself; they are all ready enough with brave speeches
when danger is distant, but when trouble comes it will be
quite another thing."  It was only too probable that in
time of danger the chaff would separate from the wheat
among the Protestant ranks.
Still, the league might have accomplished much more
than it did accomplish; it certainly could have prevented
the assembling of an imperial, army in Germany, and it
entirely neglected to do so.
The Emperor was under the restrictions of the election
bond; he could not bring any foreign troops into Germany
without the consent of the States. There was, therefore, a
legal pretext against him; besides, the assembling of an
imperial army could have been rendered practically im-,possible. There were but two ways by which the Emperor
could bring in his troops-one through the Netherlands,
-he other by way of Italy-and in both it_ would have been
wvery easy to embarrass him.
The entrance from Italy was the easiest to prevent;
mnature had taken care to make the passage into Germany
difficult by lofty mountains and narrow passes. Had the
Protestants occupied the Brenner and the valley of the
-Jpper Inn. betimes, the imperial troops'could not have
entered from Italy. If; for example, the states and cities of
Upper Germany-perhaps even if only Augsburg and Ulm
had held together, they would have been able to occupy
the passes. They had money enough to hire soldiers, and
their general, Schertlin, had repeatedly written to them:
"Give me a little troop to occupy the. passes in tho




Z0O     TIM  REFORA CATION IN GERMANY.
Lechthal, and not one imperial soldier shall enter Germany."  It was- partly tbhe honourable scruple against acting
on the defensive which stood in the way, and partly a dread
of the conflict. Schelti n stood for months at the entrance
of the Lechthal i t would have been easy to have occupied
the Tyrol, and to have taken possession of the two mountain passes by which the imperial troops must advanc&.
This done, all th.e rest of the toops of the league might
have gone westwards towards the Nethlerlands, and by a rapid
advance they might have closed the entrance into the empire
at this point also, and have dispersed the assembling troops.
But these splendid opportunities of preventing the advance
of, or annihilating, the Imperial troops were utterly neglected.
The Emperor, on the contrary, carled on his manceuvres
with great dexteaity. His peacefui declarations still led the
Protestants to believe that it would not come to a war. In
546S he first fSrew off the mask. With the same skill with
which he had lulled the Protestants into security, he now
set to work to divide tlem.  -le was never tired of repeating that the  nterprise  was not directed against the Protestant religion-on  the contrary, he was abiding  by
all his concession-bt  aga insat a political league which
formed an empire wthin the empire, and which was rebelling against the imperial authority.  This distinction,
and the decided assurance that it was not a question of
religion, gave the hess decided a pretext for.joining the
Emperor's side, or at any rate for not opposing him. To
the t.mid princes, like e  he  lector of the Palatinate and the
Duke of Brandenburg,  it was a welcome excuse for doing
nothing, and it. at:chea the shrewd nd politic Mauriee of
Saxony erntirely to the Emperors side.
WIWIh ths personage  an entirely new element enters
into the affairs of Gernmany  the fate of German Protestani'sm was n gieat measure dependent on, his character
and policy, and we are therefor justified in making closer
acquaintance with him.
DUzKc  MA BCG   OF SaxoNF0o*  HiS C0ARAT4ER  A.D
POLICo  THE LEA.GUE wTi  THE EP.EROR, 1546.
Albert the Courageous had been fllowed by George
the Bezded i- the government of Meissen, while Alberat
Q Langenu: Kurffiist Moritz von Sachseno i84o,




MAURICE OF SAXONY.                201
younger son, Duke Heriry, was to have the possessions in
Friesland, but in case he could not defend them, the
towns and castles of Freiberg and Wolkenstein, and a
share of the revenues of the country. Various difficulties
induced him to make Friesland over to his brother, and to
content himself with the other possessions and the income
assigned to him. While George was burying one after
another of his children, Henry was living at Freiberg,
taking little heed of public affairs and enjoying life, so far
as his often empty exchequer permitted-enjoyed his glass,
gave good dinners, and lived merrily enough; while his
wife, Catherine of Mecklenburg, was occupied with higher
things, and was for superior to her husband in energy and
firmness.
Of this union Maurice was bmrn on the 2tst of March,
152I; only one, Augustus, of two younger sons grew up.
But little is known of Maurice's youth and education;- he
did not receive a very learned education, but his energetic
mother may have exercised great influence Upon him. As
a boy and youth he spent a go6d deal of time with Albert
of Mayence and his uncle, Duke George, who, as his own
race had died out, might wish to secure an heir and successor. There was at first, until about I538, a tolerable
understanding between them, but then an estrangement
took place. The Church question was doubtless the chief
cause of it. George was a zealous adherent of the old
Church, and the Lutheran tendencies of the court at
Freiberg, which were mainly dependent on the Duchess,
must have been hateful to him. Of course Maurice often
exchanged the residence of his unclc for that of John
Frederic.
Thus the talented young prince was for years surrounded
by contending influences.  On the one hand, George,
having seen all his sons die, fixed his eyes upon his clever
and aspiring nephew. On the other, Maurice's parents
and their advisers, among whom  was Philip of Hesse,
were desirous of keeping on friendly terms with George,
but wished to keep Maurice a Lutheran. George, however, was entertaining the idea of hazardous schemes,
such as that of making Austria his successor, to which his
advisers and states did not conceal their aversion.'Ii the midst of these contradictory tendencies, on the
17th of April,  539, Duke George died.' Duke Henry




202     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
assumed the reins of government, George's ministers were
dismissed, and Lutheranism introduced. It was worthy of
remark that Maurice maintatined sonme relations with the
fallen ministers, thereby showing his independence.
This was still more evident in another matter. Maurice
married Agnes, daughter of the Landgrave Philip; against
his parents' will; this gave rise to bitter and open dissensions, increased by the fact of Phlliis double marriage, and
it was with difficulty that Maurice succeeded in reconciling
his parents to iL; But various causes of irritation remained,
and there was growing discontent in the country at the
weak Henry's misrule. He died a few days after a stormy
scene between him and the chief men in the country, in
August,  541.
Thus Maurices youth -had been a school of much experience. The contests by which he was surrounded from
the first, in and around his- native country, had fostered his
self-will and tendency to selfish and independent action. The
insight Which he had gained into the temporal and ecclesiasti.
cal policy of -the Protestant and Catholic courts had early
deprived him of illusions, both favourable and unfavourable,
about persons and things, and when he began to take an
independent part in German politics his judgment -and
energy were far beyond his years.
The first steps taken by the new government indicated
an independent course. Maurice summoned new ministers
to his councils, partly those by whom Duke George had
ben surrounded. The Landgrave Philip especially was
consulted, and was very ready to give -his advice. But it
must be observed that he was not on the best terms with
the Elector John Frederic, and that, therefore, an approach to Hesse widened the distance from the Ernestine
faction. It was regarded in that light by the Elector and
his ministers, and petty sources of irritation were not wanting. This state of things was not improved when Maurice
gave up his father's very cool relations with the League of
Schmalkald, and proclaimed in 1542 that he and his
country would be faithful to the Protestant doctrines, and
would render aid if the Protestants were in danger, but that
-he would not belong to the league.
The discord with the Elector John Frederic increased so
much, that it was with difficulty that Philip- prevented open
war. Melancthon afterwards said that it was now that




MAURICE OF SAXONY.                 203
the seeds of the discord were. sown which sprung up
into the great tragedy the close of which we have not yet
seen.
In proportion as Maurice became estranged from the
league, the imperial party endeavoured to enter into
closer relations with him and his ministers, particularly
with George, and Christopher von Carlowitz laboured in the
same direction,  He himself was brought over by his
relations wihd the Ernestine party; his affection for Pro.
testantism and connection with Philip were at any rate no
obstacle.
During the negotiations which now took place at the
Emperor's instigation, the character of his policy, which was
a novel one among the Protestant princes, was brought to
light.  Maurice affected concern about John Frederic's
projects respecting Magdeburg and Halberstadt; he therefore desired that the Emperor would place the bishoprics
under his protection. "The bishops and canons should
accept him' as a guardian appointed by the Emperor."
The expense was to be. borne by the bishoprics, which
were therefore to be mortgaged to him. He spoke still
more plainly about Meissen and Merseburg; Carlowitz
was to endeavour'"to induce the Emperor to assign
both bishoprics to the Duke as a hereditary possession."
He had introduced reform  because the country wished
it; even Duke George, with all his zeal, had not been
able permanently to prevent it.  It was just the same
at Meissen and Merseburg; the bishops could not
restrain the people. He would have preferred it if the
two bishops had carried out reforms according to the
divine word, and rightly exercised their episcopal office;
but it had not been so, and therefore it was needful to
avert that any disaster should happen which Maurice as
their guardian might prevent.
At Nuremberg lively intercourse was kept up between
Christopher von Carlowitz and Granvella. Granvella spoke
of the high opinion entertained of Maurice by the Emperor,
and prophesied a brilliant future for him: "The Emperor
entertained great hopes of Maurice, and was very graciously
disposed towards him."  His vanity was flattered; the part
he had taken in the Turkish war praised; his aid was
courted in the war with France.
Granvella, wrote Carlowitz, was particularly desirous to




204       M  REFORMATION IN GERMANY,,
introduce the'Duke to the Emperor's acquaintance, that the
Protestants might -see that the Emperor was as favourable
to them as to the others. Overtures were also made to the
[Landgrave, but he did not like it, He wanted to see
clearly.  "It is our custom in these things to know  for
certain, not' to imagine.". He did not altogether trust them;
he thought they were going to'throw him a bone in the
shape of a bishopric for his brother, Duke Augustus, who
spent his whole time at Ferdinand's court.
It was only by means of theologians and not by
counsellors that Maurice was represented at the convention
which the League of Schmalkald held at Frankfort; he was
willing to share their creed, but not their policy, and therefore declined to take any part.  late in the year I543 he
set out to join the Emperor's army, which indeed only
undertook the fruitless siege of Landrecieso
Meanwhile, in x544 the diplomatic game of lulling the
Protestants to sleep was successfully played, and their help
secured for the war, so that the campaign could be carried
on with greater activity,  On this occasion Maurice had an
opportunity at Vitry of displaying his'prowess and his skill
as a commander. The peace of Crespy only hastened the
catastrophe.  But amidst these complications Maurice
found leisure to pursue his schemes about the bishoprics;
and as the bishoprice of Merseburg fell vacant by death, to
accomplish the election of his brother as administrator.
ailitary precautions were also taken: Pima, Dresden, and
Leipzig were made more secure.
His political attitude, which was independent, but someo
what ambiguous, was clearly brought to light in the feud in
Brunswick in  545. He was bound by an inherited treaty to
help his father-in-law, Philip, and he fulfilled the duty,
though not over willingly; but, at the.same time, he main..
tained an understanding with the Duke of Brunswick and
his friends, was the medium of proposals of reconciliation,
which he. carried on without success until war broke'out
and the Duke. was taken prisoner.  It was characteristic
that the league was not pleased with, and the Emperor was
suspicious of. him
Meanwhile, everything tended towards'a decision: the
Emperor was at liberty, he had concluded peace with
France and -a truce with the Turks, and come to an undertadinmg'With the Pope  a d the negotiations of z45-6




MURICE OF SAXONY.                   2o0
show heSw great the difficult was of Coming lo o any peaceiul
agleecment. It; was nrecesstary ifor Mxiuce also to com e to
a decision.  landgrave Philip proposed to support the
Protestant. cause by a closer understanding between Hesse
and the two Saxonys. Maurice made counter-propositions,
which referred to doctrines. The Elector John Frederic
would have it that the.saying, "Ein Meissner, ein Gleissner,"
-— a Meissner, a double dealer —was applicable to Maurice and
h,,is rlainister Carlowit, and.  Ph:ilip said that 6 "he wanted
peace and quiet, and was ready to give way in things in
which a man could give way; but really religion could not
be treated as we treat our worldly affairs, our property,
estates, fields, meadows, &c., about which,,if any one say;
Let -me have this,' we- may say,'Thou mayest have it.'"
Maurice did not comprehend that sort of thing. If he
was ever sincere, it was when he told the Emperor that the
Reformati6n was no fault of his; that it had been forced
upon the rulers by the people, and they could not prevent
it if they would. He had gone with the stream; he had
never experienced any deep religious -convictions; policy
induced him to adhere to the new faith, for in the first place
it could not be reversed, and in the next, it gave his new'
government a strong support against the Emperor.
His latest biographer calls him a disciple of Erasmus:
and he might have added, of the new Spanish Burgundian
schopl of statesmenl of which the Emperor himself was
master. Like the Emnperor, he looked at the affairs of the
Church solely rom a political point of view, and regarded
te great complications which were at hand as an excellent
opportunity of making his fortune as an ambitious secular
prince.  His little duchy was too small for his lofty.
schemes, and at the Emperor's side there was a -sure
prospect of richer booty.  A somewhat frivolous exterior
concealed far-seeing political views and great shrewdness; the light and chivalrous features of his -character
were Calculated rather to condeal his earnestness than to
give rise to the idea that he had none.  Undoubtedly, the
new generation of German princes nd politicians, of whom
he was the first, was headed by a by no means commonplace individual.
During the first few monthis of x546, when eveythling war
tending' to an  open  conflict, Maufice's commissioner,
Caxlowi'az, scscely ever lft the imaperial miiste, and




206      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
when he occasionally did so, always returned to th,-e
&gain, even when he could not do so without exciting attention; as, for instance, when he attended the conference ot
the League of Schmalkald at Frankfort, and after informing
himself of the course things were taking, returned straight to
the imperial court.
In March, 1546, he was at Maestricht. During the negoc
tiations there, Granvella observed that ever since he had
recognised the Duke, the Emperor had been graciously
pleased to place great confidence in him, and to entertain
the hope that he would accomplish much good in the cause
of religion and other things, and would serve as a good
mediator or commissioner; the Emperor therefore would
have the more pleasure in helping him in his position in
the council of the empire. It was a question of votes, and,
so:ar as it lay with the Emperor, Maurice should be placed
higher up rather than lower down. Other friendly things
were said, and Carlowitz took care to foster the good
feeling, and to bring about a still closer understanding.
He succeeded so well, that the Emperor wrote a gracious
letter to Maurice, assuring him of his continued hearty
good will, and giving hiln a pressing invitation to come to
Ratisbon.
From the end of April Carlowitz was at Ratisbon. His
official commission related to the Saxon bishoprics, parti-:ularlyv Magdeburg and Ha!berstadt; but his real bus;iness
was the negotiation of a league between the Emperor and
the Duke. Of the three paths which were open to Maurice
— to join the League of Schmalkald, to enter into a league
with the Emperor, or to do neither-he could have had no
doubt which to take. Ever since May, Carlowitz had been
negotiating with Granvella about "a special agreement."
Granvella assured him that "there was no prince towards
whom the Emperor entertained so friendly a feeling, or in
whom he placed so much confidence;" he was quite ready
to en-ter into a special agreement, only the Duke must
come himself.
It appears that the question of religion was soon settled,
and Granvella set aside the difficulty about Electoral
Saxony with the remark that "marked prosperity would
result to the countries and people from the special league,
and Maurice need not then be afraid of the Elector of
Saxony, nor of any of his other neighbours." But he must




MAURICE OF SAXONY.                 207
go; he would find not only a gracious Emperor, but a father
and friend, in/ Charles.
Just at the same time the Landgrave Philip was trying, at
a conference -at Naumburg, to induce the.Elector and the.Duke to be reconciled to each other, and to make amends
for their faults.
Naumburg or Ratisbon, then?-tbis was the question.
Maurice did not entirely confide in the imperial diplomacy; still, in June he went to Ratisbon, the negotiations
were begun at once, and by the i9th they were concluded.
The Duke's wishes concerning Magdeburg and Halberstadt
were acceded to: the Emperor appointed him conservator,
executor, andguardian of the bishopric.'The real objects
in view were only' vaguely stated in the treaty concluded ot
the same day; but'Maurice promised friendship and assistance, contributions to the exchequer, acnd submission to the
council, so far as the other princes were subject to it. Ia
religious matters no further innovations were to take place
in'his country, all further reforms were to be referred to a
council,.and in.return'the Emperor and Ferdinand promised assistance to the Duke.
On the 2oth of June a conference took place between
the three princes, in presence of their ministers. "-The
guilty," it was said, "would be punished; the Emperor had
not yet decided what he should do;- the price of corn
would be learnt at' market.  If it should come to that,
Maurice would not have far to go-to the Emperor; the
mandates would give notice of the Einperor's intentions.
If an interdict,'or anything of the kind, should be pro.
claimed, every man must look to himself; -those wbio catch
it will find it no joke."  As to the religious question, it was
once more repeated, that in case it was not entirely adjusted,
and some points remained still unsettled, neither Maurice
nor his subjects should be compromised, and they need be
under no anxiety till a settlement took place. Further
than this Maurice was not initiated. There was something
purposely mysterious in the whole speech, and it was not
calculated to inspire confidence.  It revealed enough to
make him stand by the Emperor, but not to set him at ease
-s to the consequences.
Their relations to each other are obvious.  If Maurice
had no affection for Protestantism, neither had he any for
the Emperor; the new doctrine was to him a means to an




208     THE REFORMATION I  GERMANY.
end, and so was his relation to the Emperor. There is not
a trace in him of that warm and chivalrous attachment'
which the older generation, and even the Protestant princes,
felt towards the head of the German nation. The modem
race of politicians who had outgrown all the medieval traditions of the empire, whose last offshoots were some of
the adventurers in the Thirty Years' War, begins with the
striking figure of Maurice.
Charles, with this mixture of confiding openness and
mysterious reserve, behaved like the master of -his hopeful.
pupil. One -can imagine howhe looked into the soul of
the young prince with a certain fatherly pride. Here was a
man after his own heart, who hated theological squabbles
and the fanaticism of little minds-who, like himself, cared
for nothing but the moving springs of substantial power and
obvious political calculations. It was, however, a singular
mistake to suppose that devotion and trust could grow up
in such a soul. He- knew nothing of these things himself,.except where some advantage was to be derived from them,
-and he should not have -expected in the pupil what was.
wanting in the master.'the honourable race of German.
princes of the old school, like John, Philip, and John Frederic,
who, when their consciences were not concerned, were
heartily devoted to the Emperor, was dying out; the men
who were in earnest about their faith, and who in the sharp
struggle of conflicting duties only refused with heavy hearts
the allegiance they had never refused against the Turks or
the French, were indeed a different race from those who
came after them; for them, they themselves. were the centre
of the empire, and by German liberty they understood the
aggrandisement of their own power and the absolute despotism of rulers both great and smal. We must bring out
this contrast; for party spirit in its blindness has confounded
the former princes with those who made merely a policy of
religion.
The Emperor's tactics were very favourable to the -plans
of a character like Maurice. He did not himself consider
that it would be possible for Maurice openly to take part
against Lutheranism, and he afterwards had good reason to
know the truth of this. But when he said that it was not a
religious but a political question, it gave a different colour
to it, and Maurice was inclined to take but little part,
like men without character, who remain neutral -Ail choose




TIE SCIItALIALD W'AR.               209
their party after the issue of the struggle.  He knew the
weakness of and dissensions in the league; he knew that
if he decisively joined the Emperor's cause, he was secure
of his spoils, and took up his position accordingly.
THE'WAR* FROM THE SUMMER OF 1546 TILL THE SPRING
OF I547.-PITIFUL WARFARE OF THE ALLIES ON THE
DANUBE —MAURIcE  INVADES  ELECTORAL SAXONY.BATTLE OF MUHLBERG, 24TH APRIL, 1547.
If we compare the firmness of purpose- which was displayed by the imperial party in -preparing for- the contest
with the divisions in the Schmalkald camp, we cannot fail
to. fear for the cause which was -attacked by so mighty. a
force and so inefficiently defended; and yet the Emperor's
position was by no means a secure one. His only ally in
Germany was an ambitious pi    who was probably already
calculating how he should setti' x'scounts with the Emperor
after the victory; then he was l.ji:: 1cning on France, whom he
had laid under obligations by his magnanimity, but who was
not any the more trustworthy on that account; upon Rome,
where the'wind-was always shifting, and upon his Spanish
troops, who certainly were curious weapons wherewith to
re-constitute the unity of the.German empire and the German
Church. He was declaring war against a nation about a
cause which had stirred it to its very depths, as'no universal
impulse had ever stirred it before, and his allies were Spain,
France, Rome, and Duke Maurice. However skilfully the
beginning had been managed, the -whole scheme was a game
of chance-the first that the Emperor hazarded, and he was
not successful in it.
The war was preceded by a song of triumph at Rome,
that heresy would soon be put down; but that was a most
unwelcome revelation of the Emperor's tactics. He and his
friend Maurice were saying that- it was not a religious, war,
and here was Rome,' before a blow had been struck, re.
joicing that the miscreants -would be punished.
On the 20th of July, the Emperor sent the ban against
the Protestant princes. of Germany as a declaration of war,
* Avila y Zuniga, Geschichte des Schmalkald. Kriegs. Uebe,..s
Berlin, 1853.' Herberger, Schertlinris Briefe. Augsb., 1832. Schul.
huth, Schertlin von Burtenbach Leben und Thatel von ihn selbst
beschrieben. Miinster, r858.
I4




210     TME- &EFORMATION' IN GERMANY.
while his tro 3)s were advancing from Italy and the NetheR.
lands. They found no obstacle either on the Rhine or on
the Tyrol.
The forces which the league assembled at Donauw/3rth
after the Saxon and Hessian troops had been joined by the
South German contingents, were reckoned at 47,000 men;
but they neglected to attack the Emperor, who was then
weak, were unable to come to any decisive resolution before
Ingolstadt, allowed the Emperor time to assemble his
troops, wasted their strength in fruitless skirmishes, and
their time in camp near Giengen, till money ran short, the
soldiers grew discontented, and some divisions began to
move off. The Landgrave Philip exerted himself to explain the situation and the project to the Elector John
Frederic; but in vain- he could not even effect the suppression of the notorious challenge of Ingolstadt of 2nd
September, "to Charles, King of Spain, who calls himself
the fifth Roman Emperor."
The passes in the Tyrol had been occupied in the latter
part of the summer by Schertlin, but again by an unaccountable order vacated; and, while the Schmalkald party
were entrenching themselves at Giengen, Alba led the first
onslaught on the imperial cities of Ulm and Augsburg, which
were least in a position to resist.  In their rear were
Wiirtemberg and the Palatinate, very doubtful allies. As
the imperial cities were unprotected, the conquest of
Wiirtemberg and the Palatinate was decided on; Southern
Germany was at the feet of the Emperor and his Spaniards.
The restoration began at Cologne and Strasburg. Meanwhile, what between lack of money, desertion, and sickness,
the camp at Giengen was melting away. When the news
came that Duke Maurice had invaded the territory of the
Elector John Frederic, all hope was at an end. By the end
of November, the party of the league had evacuated the
seat of war in South Germany; not that they were vanquished on the battle-field, for the Emperor had not hazarded
any decisive engagement, but politically they were entirely
beaten.
On the Ist of August, Duke Maurice had been entrusted
hy Charles with the execution of the interdict on his
bchmnalkald neighbour, but the cautious prince was in no
hurry, less because he hoped anything from negotiation with
the princes of the league, than because, like his 4 usin the




THE SCHMALKALLD WAR.                2 1
Dulhess Elizabeih, hle was of opinion that " the house of
Austria has sharp eyes and a large mouth, and wants to devour whatever it sees." While the Emperor was continually
urging him on, Cailowitz advised his master to take no steps
until he saw to whom God would give the victory, or at any
rate until King Ferdinand, who was also commissioned to
carry out the sentence, should attack the interdicted coun'
tries. The most that he could advise was, that he shoulcd
take possession of the mountaia cities and the fiefs of the
crown of Bohemia, but in such a manner, that in case even/i
should take a turn, the Duke mnight represent that he had done
it to avert any hostile attasck, and for the good of the Elector
and his subjyects.
Still, it would not do to excite the suspicions of the
Emperor and his brother, and the longer it remained undecided "10 whom God would give the victory," the more
difficult it became to temporise.  In this embarrassment
the Duke entered into direct negotiations with Ferdinand,
while he was still carrying them tn with the princes of the
league.  He was still telling the Duchess Elizabeth that
w,-hn the temporal affairs were settled, if the Emperor persisted in his severity, "he would give an opportunity of
conferring, and himself give notice of what it would become
him to do." Even in his own country suspicion was excited that religion would at last be endangered. Even from
Bohemia it was reported that if John Frederic came, the
cities would open their gates to him. It is certain that they
were reluctant to march against Saxony. The Utraquists
saw that they were involved in the dangers that threatened
Lutheranism. These doubts explained the tentatives put
forth on every side, the leaning on Brandenbalg, the correspondence with Pomerania and Poland. They also make
the discontinuance of negotiations with Ferdinand intelligible. In October they were resumed; Maurice himself
went to Prague, took counsel with the States, which had
been repeatedly convened, and on the ixth of October
once more assured the princes of the league that it was not
a question of religion' he did not want the territories, he
was only seeking their honour and prosperity; he had not
been sitting idle hitherto, but he could not permit Saxony
to come into foreign hands." Three days afterwards he
entered into an agreement with Ferdinand at Prague.
Maurice had trustrated the design of the Hapsburgs at




212     THE REFOI MATION IN GERMANY.
once to divide the territory of the interdicted prince. Foe
the rest, Ferdinand was to take possession of the districts
held by the Elector as fiefs of the crown of Bohemia;
Maurice was to occupy all that were fiefs of the Holy
Roman  Empire, or ecclesiastical fiefs.  Six days after
Ferdinand had reached the frontier, the Duke was to begin
his attack. Ferdinand promised the subjects who came
under his rule that they should not be compelled to renounce their religion. On the 27th of October the dignity
of Elector was transferred to Maurice of Saxony from the
imperial camp at Nordheim.
It is difficult to say what Maurice could now expect from
making proposals to the league'; that he considered it
necessary to put forth a justification of his policy is more
intelligible. Carlowitz was right in urging the vacillating
prince to take one side or the other. Distrust of him did
not vanish from the imperial camp, especially as he delayed
to assume the title of Elector. Meanwhile, Saxony was
quickly occupied.
John Frederic's plain speaking contributed not a little to
effect that this dubious state of things should assume a more
decided character.  He left the South German camp to defend his country against this disturber of the peace, His
manifesto spoke of treacherous Judas money by which the
invasion had been effected; it was by these means that " the
beastly, tyrannical, unchristian Turkish hussars " had been
brought into the country; he threatened vengeance, and
that he would " pay him with his own coin."
John Frederic proceeded from Eisenach to Halle and
Leipzig, which, together with Dresden, was the centre of the
Albertine territory.   Maurice had taken precautionary
measures, and encouraged the troops and inhabitants; still
-.e was not without anxiety when, on the 9th of June, 1547,
the Elector arrived, less perhaps on account of his army,
than because of the doubtful sentiments of the people. Of
course many of them joined the Elector; they saw in
Mlaurice the enemy of the faith, in Carlowitz "the old
Papist." This occasioned Maurice to appeal for help to
Ferdinand, to Brandenburg, and to Albert of Culmbach. In
the imperial camp the danger was underrated, because the
popular excitement was not taken into account.
In the conduct of the war, Maurice as usual showed hirnsef superior to his adversary; in spite of his difficulties, he




THE SCHMALKALD WAR.                213
displayed great energy, insight, and coolness,. while John
Frederic proceeded without any plan, at the end of
January had to raise the siege of Leipzig, and lost time
until the enemy received his first reinforcements. Still, for
some time it looked as if he was suffering the confusion in
the country to increase until a general rising should compel
Maurice to withdraw.  The excitement was so great in
Saxony and Bohemia that it foreboded evil, and if Maurice
was not to be vanquished, it would not do for the Hapsburgs
to delay much longer.
The Emperor therefore appeared at Eger, and on the
xrth of April Maurice crossed the Saxon frontier with the
Spaniards, the vanguard.of the imperial army. John Frederic turned towards Dresden. The Emperor led a splendid
army by way of Adorf, Plauen, and Reichenbach, to Weida
and the neighbourhood. The united armies then proceeded
by way of Jerisau, Geithain, Kolditz, Leisnig, and- Lommlatzsch to the Elbe. John Frederic, who had retired from
Dresden to Meissen, allowed the bridge over the Elbe to be
broken down, and went to Miihlberg.
On the 24th of April he was attending service, when
cavalry appeared on the opposite side of the river. He had
only ten companies of soldiers and seven squadrons of
cavalry; the favourable moment had been lost. When the
Emperor learnt that the Elector was at Miihlberg, he ordered
balls to be thrown into it, and the Elector resolved to
retreat to Wittenberg. Maurice then offered to pursue the
enemy -by a ford over the Elbe. He did so, the imperial
army followed, and thus gained an easy victory over tile
weak and surprised adversary. This was on the 24th of
April, 1547.
The Emperor received the prisoner with harshness and
severity. " Am I the gracious Emperor now?" he said to
him. And the request that his prison might be in accordance
with his princely rank was answered with, "I will keep
you as you deserve; begone!"
On the g9th of May followed the capitulation at Wittenberg. By this John Frederic renounced all right to tbhe
electorate, engaged to give up the fortresses of Wittenberg
and Gotha, to surrender himself to the Emperor, to acknowledge the Imperial Chamber, and the future decrees of the
Emperor and the States. M turice and Ferdinand received
his " confiscated" property. Maurice engaged to allow hiY




214     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY,
children fifty thousand florins a year, for which several places
and offices were allotted to them. Of these the principal
were Gotha, Weimnar, and the territory of Saalfeld; Eisenach,
also, and the Wartburg remained in possession of the Ernestine family.  John  Frederic's brother, John Ernest,
received Coburg. The fiefs of the crown of Bohemia were
reserved for Ferdinand. John Frederic gave up Magdeburg
and Halberstadt.
Four weeks later, the blow was struck at Philip of Hesse.
Being unable to stand against the Emperor alone, he resolved
for the first time to try his fortune at diplomacy; and he
mnet with very ill success. It is clear that we have not full
information about the course of the negotiations. The wellknown story that he was promised that he should not be
imprisoned, which was afterwards said to have been that he
should not be permanently imprisoned-" nicht einiges
Gefangnis," or "nicht ewiges Gef ingniss"-is not proven,
out it is clear that he was grossly deceived.
The first conditions imposed upon him by Ferdinand and
Maurice were lenient enough. But it soon appeared that
the Emperor required him to surrender at discretion, though
assurances were given him which precluded any idea of
lasting imprisonment; as, for instance, the promise in
writing, that "he should suffer neither in person nor property, nor be punished with imprisonment nor diminution
of territory." *
The Landgrave, therefore, prostrated himself before the
Emperor; and when he was about to retire, he was arrested
and thrown into prison. Such things are done by subordinates, who can afterwards be disowned; and such wa~
the case in this instance.
&e R4~1, IGichichtevm HVO




CHAPTER Xn
Ilinted  and Restoration, Iq 48.-The Council of Trent from x3fi of
December,  3,5S, and the Diet of Augsburg from September, 1547.
INTERIM AND RESTORATION, 1548.
THUS the Emperor was speedily victorious in Germany.
The league had suffered a humiliating defeat. The Protestant princes were divided: one eminent prince of this party
had openly become his ally; the Palatinate and Wiirtemberg
had come to terms; only Philip and John Frederic remained, and they were both in his hands. He was master
in Germany, as no imperial ruler had been for a long time.
He had his weapons in his hands, and no others were lifted
up against him. Germany was occupied to the Elbe, and
in all the south and west seemed only to be awaiting his
nod as to the decision of the Church question.  The
Emperor's schemes now began to be unveiled, and the
illusion soon vanished that he had been merely fighting
against political rebels, and to enforce his political
authority.
The Emperor had a confession of faith drawn up-the
Interim of Augsburg, of 1548-which was to be a combination of the old and new faith, and to unite Protestants
and Catholics. This attempt on the part of the victor of
Miihlberg indicates the extraordinary ignorance of the
great diplomatist, with all his knowledge of men, of the
religious question of the age.
Protestantism had been developed in Germany quite
independently, without the aid-indeed, in opposition to
the ruling powers. It was' the act of the nation's conscience.
The eminent theologians, thinkers, and learned men whom
it had produced, arose from an inward impulse, and not in
ompliance with any command from above, Parties and




216     THE 1RP ORMATION IN GERMANY.
differences of opinion had also arisen independently. Heow
Luther had striven to solve some particular question, and
how much labour was afterwards fruitlessly spent in trying
to reconcile other phases of Protestant thought with his
doctrines! All this had been done without any external
authority, and it could not therefore be overturned by any
imperial decree. These are not questions which can be
settled around the green table, or in the cabinets of diplomatists; they are vital problems of the gravest kind. And
now came the Emperor, a stranger to all that was agitating
Germany, who had never comprehended more than the outward aspects of the struggle-to whom the Catholic faith
was only something that he had been taught, and the Protestant faith entirely unintelligible-and amalgamated portions of both to form a third, and ordained-" This is now
to be your creed!"
This shows how shrewd a man may be in political
matters, and how astonishingly short-sighted on religious
questions. The people, neither of one party nor the other,
suffered what was proposed in his Interim to be forced upon
them. Each had its own creed, and rejected fiis. Although
concessions were made to the Protestants on the doctrine
of justification, and some other points, differences about
Church constitutions, the hierarchy, and episcopal authority,
could no longer be settled by a stroke of the pen.
When these difficulties appeared, recourse was had to
force. At Augsburg, Ulm, Constance, Strasburg, Ratisbon,
a-nd all the cities of Upper Germany, the refractory iphabitants were treated with military executions; the Emperor's
Spanish soldiers disturbed the peace of towns and families,
and hundreds of faithful preachers in Southern Germany
wandered about homeless with their wives and families.
The Emperor would gladly have been content with gentle
compulsion, threats, and intimidation; but these did not
produce the desired effect. If the people had so readily
adopted another creed, their former one must have been a
lie. They had mostly to be driven to mass by soldiers, and
all kinds of severity were practised.
Except in the helpless cities of Upper Germany, the
Interim simply fell to the ground. The Catholics were not
required to adopt it, and the Protestant rulers either rejected
or refused to enforce it, and in both cases the resulP wur
the same.




THE INTERIM  OF AUGSBURG.              21 
When it was proclaimed by some prudent princes, as in
the Palatinate and Wiirtemberg, their subjects crossed themselves, and simply kept to their old creed. Maurice proclaimed it, and had it weakened a little to make it more
palatable; but he soon saw that it could not be seriously
enforced, and contented himself with the a pearance ol
good intentions. This displeased the Emperor, who had
not expected such contumacy from his faithful ally. Further northward the Interim was met with open resistance.
Magdeburg declared its intention of opposing it to the
ultmost, and it was the same in all the northern districts
beyond the reach of the Emperor's arm. In short, the
attempt to restore the unity of the German Church by the
Interim, and by Spanish soldiers, was found to present great
difficulties. A bitter feeling prevailed throughout Germany that all men had been grossly deceived, and that the
rulers, who had said it was not a question of religion, had
themselves been deluded. The fugitive press of those days
teemed with bitter ill-will, and we still possess some prints
in which it is said of Maurice, with true presentiment, that
as he had, like Judas, betrayed his fellow-professors, so he
would also betray the Emperor.
The news of the events which had transpired in the
cities of Upper Germany spread rapidly throughout the
empire. The hateful scenes which had been enacted, the
violence towards governments and individuals, the exile of
eminent citizens and faithful ministers, excited loud indignation everywhere. Such things showed the real significance
of the Emperor's victory; and the greater the confidence
before, the greater the exasperation now. The Emperor's
Spanish policy was seen through, and it was known that the
worst was to be expected from it.
In any case, if the Emperor could rely on his agents, a
serious conflict was at hand. If the subjection of a few
imperial cities, and the fall of the Palatinate and Wtirtemnberg, had made such a noise, how would it be should the
Emperor collect his forces to subjugate the North?
But, just when he thought to enjoy the fruits of the labour
of years, he experienced the bitterest disappointment, for
all the supports tailed him on which he had hithlerto relied
-Rome, France, the ruling princes, ai d, above all, Maur'ice.
This favourite pupil of his policy play ed off his masterpiece
upon his master by so contriving the, by the most motley




2 18     TIlE REFORMATION IN GERMANYI
of all coalitions, the Pope, the Turks, Rome and tha
German rulers, the Protestants and France, should combine to upset the Emperor's power.
THE COUNCIL OF TRENT FROM  DECEMBER, 1545, AND
THE DIET OF AUGSBURG FROM SEPTEMBER, 1547.
The Emperor's successes were regarded with mixed
feelings at Rome. It was satisfactory that schism seemed
to be put an end to; but it was not exactly agreeable that
the Emperor's arm should rule from Rome to the Alps.
It created great uneasiness when he began to meddle in
ecclesiastical affairs, in which he was neither versed nor
disposed to pay exclusive regard to the interests of the
Curia.  Ever since   529 it had been Charles's idea to
settle the ecclesiastical differences at a council. The document in which this plan was first proposed has already been
given.*  He had inviolably maintained his intention of
making the Protestants submit to a council; they were to
return to the old church, and when that had been effected,
he would influence the council to bring about a reconciliation which would satisfy all parties. If a basis of union
were only attained, it was all one to him whether concessions
were made on one side or the other, as to the doctrine of
the supper, justification, &c.
Rome from the first only fell in with this plan reluctantly. She had no confidence in the imperial council,
whether it was called, as at first, a general ecclesiastical,
a free national council, or a national assembly, without the
Pope. This was far too ambiguous for the views of the
Curia. The convocation of the council was therefore continually opposed, and it was not till I537 that the idea
arose of stopping the increasing defection by this means.
If the rulers continued exclusively to cultivate the private
interests of their own houses, it was clear that half the
world would turn apostate. The programme for a council
was then drawn up; but years passed before it was called,
and years more before it met, in 1545, at the time when
Charles had nearly completed his preparations for a conflict
with the heretics. The council depended on the proceedimga of the Emperor against the heretics, and his proceedirga
* See pages  11o and i86.




THE COUNCIL OF TRENT.                219
on the Pope's concessions in the matter of the council.
The Protestants were now subjugated, and, so far as they
had accepted  the Interim, must also acknowledge the
council.
The Emperor would have preferred to have the council
in Germany instead of, as the Pope demanded, in Italy.
A. place on the borders of Italy and Germany was finally
fixed on-the bishopric of Trent, which still belonged to the
German empire.
The first proceedings in the council indicated that there
was a great dread of a repetition of the scenes of Constance
and Basle. There was an evident desire to avoid everything which might awaken the lust of power which then
prevailed, and to confirm as decidedly as possible the
inviolability of papal authority. The assembly consisted
of Spanish and Italian monks in overwhelming majority,
and this was decisive as to its character.
When consulted as to the course of business, the Emperor
had expressed a wish that those questions on which agree.
ment between the parties was possible should first be discussed. There were a number of questions on which they
were agreed, as, for example, Greek Christianity.  Even
now there are a number of points on which Protestants
and Catholics are agreed, and differ from the Eastern
Church.
If these questions were cohsidered first, the attendance
of the Protestants would be rendered very much easier; it
would open the door as widely as possible, they would probably come in considerable numbers, and might in time
take a part which at least might not be distasteful to the
Emperor, and might influence his ideas on Church reform.
The thought that they were heretics was half concealed.
But Rome was determined to pursue the opposite course,
and at once to agitate those questions on which there was
the most essential disagreement, and to declare all who
would not submit to be incorrigible heretics.  It was considered of less importance to gain a few hundred thousand
souls, more or less, than to maintain the infallibility of the
ancient church, and not to offer a dangerous example of
weakness and compliance.
The first subjects of discussion were, the authority of the
Scriptures in the text of the Vulgate, ecclesiastical tradition,
thebright ot interpretation, the doctrine of justification. lThese




220     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
were the questions on which the old and new doctrines
were irreconcilably at variance; all other differences were
insignificant in comparison.
And these questions were decided in the old Roman
Catholic sense; not precisely as they had been officially
treated in 15 I7 —for the stream of time had produced some
little effect —but in the main the old statutes were adhered
to, and everything rejected which departed from them.
This conduct was decisive. The Emperor had intended to
attract the Protestants by smooth werds ef peace and reconciliation, and to render their first steps towards a
return to unity as easy as possible; if they were once present at the council they would perhaps be of use to him in
counterbalancing the overweening claims of the Curia; the
idea of turning them to account to oppose the hierarchy itself
was perhaps not far from his thoughts, but the attempt was
not made. The Emperor had taken so much pains and
made so many sacrifices to smooth the way for the council,
had so often solemnly assured the Protestants that reforms
should be made when once the council was secured, if they
would not obstinately oppose it: but now the council was
sitting, and the first word that sounded forth fromn Trent
was anathema sift From this time the Emperor and the
Pope were at variance, and it was plain from the correspondence which took place betw.een them that they could no
longei agree.
The Pope thought proper to transfer the council to
another place in order to lessen the Emperor's influence,
He had already recalled the auxiliary troops from the
imperial camp. On account of some deaths which had
taken place at Trent, although they had diminished rather
than increased, it was decided that a longer tarriance in the
neighbourhood would endanger the health of the prelates,
and in March, X547, the greater part of the assembly
migrated to Bologna.
In January, 1548, a solemn embassy from the Emperor
arrived at Bologna, made a decided protest on the threshold
of the assembly, and declared that the Council of Trent
having been forcibly interrupted, everything debated and
decreed at Bologna was null and void.
Thus, just as the Emperor was beginning to enforce his
Interim in Germany, and to make his soldiers drive the
Protestants to mass, he was aict by the tremendous mi&




THE  IRAGMATIC CANCTION.              22k
foRtune of an open breach with Rome, and was compelled
to enter a solemn protest against her proceedings. In such
a state of things it was impossible that a great ecclesiastical
contest should be carried on. In the conflict with the
greater part of the German  nation and rulers, it would
never do to be at ernmity with Rome; he must have one
party or the other on his side. And just then, in opposition to the usual caution and coolness of his character, the
Emperor had extensive projects which it would have been
difficult to carry out under any circumstances, and under
the present they were doubly audacious.
The Diet had assembled in 1547 under the impression of
the Emperor's victories. He could there decree whatever
he chose. The princes who had had the courage to oppose
him were in prison, others stayed away; these exceptional
circumstances occasioned a great preponderance in his
favour.
5He proclaimed the Pragmatic Sanction for the Netherlands, whereby his old Burgundian inheritance was declared
by his own law to be indivisible, the succession settled
on the house of Hapsburg, it was attached to the German
empire as a tenth district, had to pay certain contributions,
but was not to be subject to the Imperial Chamber or the
Imperial Court of Judicature. He thus secured the personal
union of these territories with his house, and made it the
duty of the empire to defend them, while at the same time
he withdrew them from the jurisdiction of the empire; it
was a union by which the private interests of the holse of
Hapsburg had everything to gain, but which was cf no
advantage to the empire.
The other decrees which the Emperor had passed
amounted almost to a formal revolution in Germany.
The seizure of ecclesiastical property, the spoliation of
churches and monasteries and interference with ecclesiastical jurisdiction, were for the first time declared to be
breaches of the peace. The Imperial Court of Judicature,
the comparative independence of which had long been a
thorn in the Emperor's side, was reconstituted, and the
appointment to seats in it was assigned to him.
An imperial military treasury was established which
would enable the Emperor, out of the resources of the
empire, to maintain his Spanish troops in readiness, and mt
repress any insurrection.




222      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.'The opposition to this proposal wras almost universal, but
the Emperor prevailed, at least at the Diet...:e was
master in Germany as no EmperoI had been for centuries,
but he was challenging the ruling aristocracy by a revolution which, whether beneficial or not, could not be carried
out if those by whose means he had obtained his last great
victory refused to accept it. It would never do for him,
when he was at war both with Rome and with Protestantism, to challenge the high nobility of the German
nation to a single combat. " One thing at a time," Luther
used to say.  Either of these three tasks would have been
sufficient for the life work of one ruler, and to undertake
them all at once was most presumptuous; but the
Emperor's successes had got into his head, and he regarded
nothing as impossible. Of course among the German
princes the question, "Protestantism  or Catholicism?"
began to retreat into the background, and instead of doing
anything to stifle this growing opposition, Charles rather
aggravated it.
His treatment of the two imprisoned princes was quite
unworthy of him. It was an absurd anachronism to act as
no German Emperor had ever acted before, on account of
their feuds with him, to pass hasty judgment upon them. as
if they had been common criminalds, to deprive them of 1their
territories and dignities, then to sentence them to deathl a-id
have them dragged from one prison to another.
It was all very well for Charlemagne,' amidst immense
successes, to dle-.'se the powerful Thassilo, who had twice
betrayed him. W ien Conrad II. displaced his stepson as an
incorrigible rebel, there were some disapproving voices, but
the majority approved for the sake of order in the empire,
But it was five hundred years since an Emperor had passed
sentence of death on a prince of the empire within its
bounds. Even Frederic I., after citing Henry the Lion five
times to appear before him, only dispossessed him of his
lands, and part of these were afterwards restored to him. The
cause of John Frederic was the cause of all the German
rulers.   The good-natured Elector, who, though prot a
great, was a truly honourable man, possessed the confidence
of all parties, and it was a shame to treat him like a
common criminal.  If the Emperor meant the sentence
of death in earnest, it was a needless cruelty to keep it,
like the sword of Damocles, hanging over his head; and




TREATMENT OF PHILIP OF HESSE.    223
if not, it was making unpardonable sport with judicial
murder.
Philip of Hesse was the most beloved of all the ruling
princes of his time, and deservedly so; for, with all his
weaknesses and passions, his faith and patriotism were
matters of holy earnestness with him. The Emperor himself had had many proofs of this,.arnd his troops all knew
him as a brave soldier. To drag him from prison to prison,
and to allow him to languish in loathsome dungeons till he
nearly lost his reason, was not only barbarity, it was madness.
The complaints of the wretched prince were heart-rending,
but were of no avail; and in vain did his eldest son offer to
take his place in prison. Alba and Granvella neglected his
petitions with coarse brutality, and the Emperor had no
inclination to read them. The Landgrave reminded him of
his word and promises so shamefully broken. He was kept
in filthy holes, guarded by Spanish soldiers; and the stench
and their brutality nearly drove him to despair. He says
that instead of the four who were appointed, ten or twelve
always came into his room; when he slept, they drew up
the blinds to see that he did not escape through a mousehole, or a chink in the wall. From Augsburg he was removed to Nordlingen, to a public-house, where the landlord
had lately died of the plague. On account of an uncivil
answer, the Emperor deprived him of his physician, his secretary, and his othmr attendants, and writing materials were
forbidden him. When he was taken down the shores of the
Rhine in I548, le was followed by a mob who called after
him, "There goes the rebel and villain;" and it was plain
that they were employed to do it. - All the disputes that
were pending between Hesse and its neighbours antl
vassals were decided meanwhile by the Emperor, and the
country was oppressed in every way. The Landgrave was
taken to a prison in Oudenarde, and made to enter into an
ignominious treaty with the master of Germany.
When for his health's sake he wished to have meat in
Passion week, the Spanish captain flung it to him on the
ground. The Landgravine, who had fallen at the Emperor's
feet in vain, was lying dangerously ill. Not long before her
death, she addressed a touching petition to the Emperor,
pointing out that all the conditions of the treaty had been
fulfilled, and imploring him, for the sake of her father's




224     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
services, to restore her husband to her. In 1549 she dietl,
without obtaining the least favour. The Landgrave was
subjected to still stricter imprisonment at Malines, and
placed under a brutal and bigoted Spanish gaoler. And
after the failure of an attempt to escape in I550, two of his
faithful Hessians were hung before his eyes. He was deprived of all his German servants, and fell into a gloomy
stupor which made it appear that his reason was in danger.
Men were learning every day in Germany what German
liberty had to expect from the Spanish Emperor, whose
Spanish soldiers were treating the princes as he treated the
nation. The imperial troops were behaving everywhere as
if they were in a conquered country; and the complaints
that were uttered in fugitive papers and pamphlets indicate
a national exasperation like that which prevailed in the
worst times of Napoleon's rule, occasioned by the ignominy
of the Confederation of the Rhine.
One paper said: "Germany shall not be subject to
Spaniards and priests."  In another: "It is come to this
with the German nation; it is mocked at.  God help
us."
The feeling was this: "Are we the great nation on purpose that the Emperor may impose a brutal foreign yoke
upon us?"  The Emperor had no one on his side but his
soldiers and his cabinet-all the great factors of the age
were against him; Catholicism, Protestantism, the princes
and people of Germany. We seek in vain for any voice
which said, "Let us endure it all as a trial, so that we may
but preserve the unity of the empire." We may make these
reflections at our desks in the nineteenth century, but at
that time they were impossible.
One German prince must have felt these expressions of
olpen ill-will as so many pricks of conscience; for had it not
been for the defection of Maurice of Saxony, the Protestant
League would scarcely have been vanquished, and his
honour was involved in the assurances given to Philip. It
was long before he appeared to be amenable to these
feelings, though his father-in-law, Philip, did not spare him
admonitions, entreaties, and reproaches. He once wrote to
him: " If he had been a poor vassal, and had given him
such a verbal promise, he would go, to the Emperor and
say,'Sire, we gave him this promise, and if you will not set
him free, let me go to prison in his place.' If you act in




NATIONAL EXASPERATION.               225
this way to avoid a little anger or displeasure, your reproach
will never be extinguished, but will live in history."
In July, 1547, Maurice addressed himself to King Ferdinand, and represented to him that this conduct was making
a fatal impression in the empire; but it was of no avail. A
personal appeal to the Emperor met with the same fate.
The Emperor was blinded and supercilious, and even told
Maurice that he would grant nothing of the kind; he would
have the Landgrave's body cut in two, and send half to
each of the two securities. The intoxication of supreme
power had caused even this cool calculator to lose his head.
He was now ready to become a sacrifice to a Rmster1l
intrigue.
R, 5




CHAPTER XV1!.
Maurice and the Conspiracy of the German Princes. —Isolation of thOi
Elector among both Catholics and Protestants. —The Negotiations
with France.-The Coalition against the Emperor.-Treaty with
France, and Surprise of the Emperor, i55I-2.-Treaty of Chambord, January, 1552. —March of the Allies, March, 1552.-Security
and Defiance of the Emperor.-Taking of the Ehrenberger Klause,
MIay, 1552.-Charles's Flight.-TheTreaty of Passau and the Peace
of Augsburg, August, 1552-September, 1555.-Charles's Retreat
and Last Days.-General Results of the Reformation in Germany.
MAURICE AND THE CONSPIRACY OF THE GERMAN
PRINCES, 1550-5I.
M   AURICE saw more and more plainly that his game
could not be carried on very long. He was regarded
with fearful hatred. All John Frederic's sufferings were
ascribed to him, his faithless relative, and he was reproached
with the ill-treatment of his father-in-law, the Landgrave, to
whom he had given his word of honour. Nothing could be
more hideous than the colours in which he was painted.
In his own country, it was said that it was ruled by a twofold and threefold traitor, and a literature of pamphlets
arose around him, in which the subject of Judas Iscariot
was treated in a hundred different ways. Hatred and distrust elnc ompassed him on every side, and then there was
the position of affairs in general; the increasing oppiession
of a foreign yoke, the growing agitation in the nation, the
Emperor's conflict with Rome, and the latest results of his
political supremacy. It was suspected that the clever and
cautious diplomatist had not yet spoken his last word, nor
played his last card; still, if he did not make haste, the
favourtble moment would be frittered away. Otherwise, the
captive Landgrave would be justified in saying, when told
of the Elector's secret planx' I can't understand how a




CONSPIRACY OF THE GERMAN PRINCES.  2 2 7
sparrow can conquer a vulture, when he drives away, and
even disperses, the best birds."
All this occasioned Maurice to think-" I must try to
regain my position in my country, and with the Protestant
party, which will counterbalance the threatened supremacy
of the Emperor."
His first idea was to incline the Emperor to clemency
towards the Landgrave, and he made sure that his advice
would be followTed; but in this he was mistaken. By his
protraction of the siege of Magdeburg, and keeping back
his troops, it was plain that he wanted to reserve his forces.
His first open, defection was his refusal to appear at the
Diet of Augsburg in I 550. He said that he and the Duke
of Brandenburg could not honourably attend, unless the
Emperor would set the Landgrave free. Besides, he had
given the Landgrave's sons an express promise that he
would not accept the Emperor's invitation.
He next turned a listening ear to France, to discover
whether there were any intention in that quarter of preparing a diversion for her ancient foe, and France had
already an inkling of the rising storm.
So Maurice did not go to Augsburg. He instructed his
ambassador in reference to the council; again promised to
urge that Protestants must be invited to it; that it must be
conducted in a godly and Christian manner, according to
the Scriptures; that false doctrines and abuses must be
abolished: but these things must not be decided by discussions on the papal supremacy, but by reference to holy
Scripture. To such a council he would send brave, learned,
and peaceable men. But they were not to consent to the
articles already decided on at Trent and Bologna.  The
Diet already showed the Emperor's isolation, and while the
Elector once more received from it a mark of the Emperor's
confidence, he was making advances to France behind
his back, and this without any scruples of conscience. His
conduct with regard to Magdeburg was remarkable. He
delayed to execute the interdict which, immediately after
the battle of Miihlberg, was pronounced against the city.
He entered into negotiations with the subjects of it, but
contrived to keep the management entirely in his own
hands; it would be enough to have nothing to do iwith the
interdicted persons, to break off all intercourse with the
city; he had great scruples against a general war. Thio




2 8    THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
was in December, I548. Meanwhile, Denmark and the sea
port towns were preparing for war, as was supposed foi
Magdeburg; but this did not induce Maurice to take more
decided measures, because it would only strengtlen the
cause of the city. The troops were slowly put in motion;
the Diet of 1550 charged him with the execution of the
interdict, but the position of affairs remained essentially the
same.
Meanwhile strange rumours came from the imperial camp,
Expressions were reported from Brussels, to the effect that
things would not go on well in Germany unless the Emperor took the affairs of the German princes into his own
hands; that all would go well when Prince Philip was
settled on the throne. It would be better for Germany to
have one master than so many tyrants.
And when Maurice did not appear at Augsburg, the
Spaniards said that, as Maurice had shown himself so disobedient after the Emperor's victories, and as he and his
subjects were all Lutherans, the Emperor was of opinion
that he could not expect better things of him than of John
Frederic. The ambassadors could not say enough of the
arrogance of the Spaniards, their contempt of the Germans
and wild fanaticism.
Maurice now made a show of more zeal against Magdeburg; took the Ne,;'adt, November, I550, and marched
against Verden; all that he might have an excuse for
not obeying the Emperor's summons to Augsburg, to
help forward the Infants Philip's election. The Austrian
party among his ministers, and Carlowitz himself, complained that he did not do the town much harm. Nevertheless, the march against Verden pacified the imperial
court. Duca Mauritio was, in the eyes of the Spaniards,
the best and most useful servant. Maurice could, therefore,
the better work undisturbed against the claims of the
Infant4 Philip; political interest and personal friendship
with Maximilian, Ferdinand's son, concurred in inducing
this. He went a step further, and looked earnestly about
him for allies, as any prospect that the EmTeror would yield
grew less and less.
In February, 155I, he conferred with the Margrave Jonn
of Brandenburg as to the best means of releasing John
Frederic and Philip of Hesse from prison. The Princes of
Weimar, the Landgraves of Hesse, and other powers were




CONSPIRACY OF THE GERMAN PRINCES.  229
to be asked to join. But Maurice was still cautious, reminded the Margrave that he was the Emperor's servant,
and asked if he knew what a difficult bird to hit they were
aiming at. However, they at length agreed that the enterprise should be begun in the cause of liberty and religion,
and for the release of the captive princes. They reckoned
upon aid from Prussia, Pomerania, and Mecklenburg, and
upon subsidies from France; an attack was afterwards to be
made upon the Netherlands. England was even reckoned
among the probable allies, and it was thought not impossible
that the Turks might keep Ferdinand at home. With such
a force, it was supposed that priests and monks might be
driven'out of Germany.
Very opportunely, a threatening despatch arrived from the
Emperor, expressing his displeasure at Maurice's absence;
he would show himself under another aspect in future, and
the Landgrave's sons deserved severe punishment for their
conduct.  Added to this, Philip's complaints grew more
grievous, for he feared that he was to be dragged away to
Spain.
The greatest difficulty was to overcome the excessive
distrust of Maurice. No one would believe that he was in
earnest.  The Margrave of Brandenburg had therefore to
undertake to gain over the family of the captive prince, and
to persuade them that this time Maurice would not play the
traitor; but he had great difficulty in doing so. In May,
1551, John of Brandenburg, Maurice, William of Hesse, and
Albert of Mecklenburg, met at Torgau. But, as is shown
by a despatch of July, Maurice still held back from counsels
that would lead to war. William of Hesse was right in
saying that negotiations would be as useless as heretofore.
Once more Maurice and John of Brandenburg sent to
Ferdinand, to represent to him more urgently than ever
how ill their services had been requited. They referred to
the negotiations at Halle, and to the fact that the treaty in
all points presupposed a reigning, and not a captive Land.
grave. All this was as unavailing as before, and Magdeburg
became more and more a convenient pretext for warlike
preparations.




230     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
TIHE TREATY WITH FRANCE, AND SURPRISE OF THE
EMPEROR, 155I —2.
All these preparations were carried on with the greatest
secrecy-the Emperor was to be taken entirely by surprise.
To make quite sure of success, a conspiracy of the German
princes was not enough. Maurice never doubted that the-y
must secure the help of France, and was not to be deterred
by some hesitation on the subject. The others did not
think it quite so easy or so safe, and it took some time to
convince them, John of Brandenburg especially, that this
help would be desirable. By the beginning of  551 they
had, however, at length come to an agreement; and in
May negotiations were set on foot by means of an embassy,
sent by Maurice, John of Brandenburg, William of Hesse,
and John Albert of Mecklenburg, to Henry II. He was
to grant subsidies and make a diversion against the Emperor.
In return, a prospect of the imperial crown was held out to
him; and in case the election should fall on any other
house, they promised not to stand by the imperial chief
without the King's consent.
Henry's tactics were slow and cautious; still, a commissioner received his instructions in July.  In October,
Maurice, his brother, the Margrave of Brandenburg, and
John Albert of Mecklenburg, met at Lochau, and discussed
the mode of attack when France should have made up her
mind. Hesse was to begin hostilities; Maurice was to come
to an understanding with Magdeburg; at the same time the
Treaty of Friedewald was concluded with France, and confirmed by Henry II. at Chambord on January I5th, I152.
In consideration of a considerable sum of money granted
to the-allies, the King was to be empowered to occupy as
Vicar of the Empire, reserving the imperial sovereignty, the
imperial cities where German was not spoken, as Cambray,
Metz, Toul, and Verdun. The allies also promised, when
an Emperor was elected, to choose the King himself, or
some prince agreeable to him. All the other States of the
empire were to be asked to join, especially the sons of John
Frederic.
In December, I551i Saxony and Brandenburg, in connection with Denmark, the Palatinate, Zweibriicken,
Bavaria, Baden, Wuirtemberg, and Mecklenburg, took the
final step of sending an embassy to Innsbruck; but it was




TREATY WITH FRANCE.               231
as fruitless as before. The Emperor wished that Maurice
should come to him at Innsbruck, and Maurice pretended
that he meant to comply, but he came in a very different
way from what the Emperor expected.
The siege of Magdeburg was now raised, and the city surrendered to Maurice. He promised to induce the Emperor
to allow it to retain its privileges and liberties. There was
also in all probability some secret arrangement, for Magdeburg was to be a refuge for him in case the enterprise
against the Emperor failed.
Thus the storm gathered over the Emperor. He had
warnings enough, but he no longer had any friends to do
anything for him. A bitter feeling prevailed against him
on all sides, and there was ill-humour and dissension even
in his own camp and his own family. His brother Ferdinand
was King of Germany, and had become so accustomed to
the dignity that he had no other idea than that the imperial
throne was destined for him and his son Maximilian. But
at the Diet at Augsburg Charles made every effort to secure
the crown for his son Philip, and his brother was deeply
offended.'The isolation and desertion of the Emperor was complete, yet it is striking to observe how blind and unsuspecting, notwithstanding all his knowledge of men, he was as to
the danger. The repeated reports of what was going on
did not disturb his peace; "the upright and downright
Germans," he said carelessly, "are not clever enough for
such cunning intrigues." He attributed no hostile intentions to Maurice, and if the worst came to the worst, he
thought he was in his power. Yet the difficulties of the
enterprise were by no means overcome, and a timely effort
might still -have frustrated it. The increasing demands of
France became burdensome to the allies. In Saxony the
States shrank from war, theologians like Melancthon had
scruples, zealous Lutherans circulated all sorts of reports
against Maurice, which could not fail to expose him. In
fact, suspicion was getting more and more confirmed, and
Ferdinand secretly conveyed warning hints to Maurice; but
the Emperor remained quiet. Happen what might, he considered that he had a chained bear in John Frederic. whom
he had only to let loose to strangle Maurice. But hie did
not seriously suspect unything, and continued to give faii
but empty promises.




232     THE REFORMATION EN GERMANY.
In March, I552, the revolt broke out, and the three
Armies were united.
Maurice marched by way of Weissenfels, Naumburg,
Weimar, and Erfurt, collecting his forces by the way, and on
the 23rd of March he joined William of Hesse at Bischofshelm.  Before setting out, he had sent a despatch to
Ferdinand, indicating what was coming. The manifesto
followed containing the grievances on the subject of religion,
complaints of the Emperor's attempt to assert his own
dominion, authority, and power, "the infamy and unreasohableness " of Philip's imprisonment, the dominion of foreign
troops, and the "beastly hereditary servitude" which it had
been attempted to impose upon the Germans.
By way of -Schweinfurt and Kitzingen Maurice advanced
to Rotenburg in Franconia, where he was joined by Albert
of Brandenburg, and their united forces then marched to
Augsburg, " the watch-tower of the imperial power," where
the Protestant restoration began at once, after the imperial
garrison had hastily evacuated the city. The princes and
cities of Upper Germany now joined the electors; the
Fiench also advanced; the aspect of affairs in Italy was portentous. Then the Turks were again threatening an attack,
which hampered Ferdinand. It was now too late to propose negotiations; it could only serve as a means to gain
time. On the 6th of April the Emperor resolved to leave
Innsbruck and go to Flanders.  He only got as far as
Leermoos, and received news on all sides of the advance of
the enemy.
At this juncture Ferdinand succeeded in obtaining a conference with Maurice at Linz. He thought that he could
not refuse it, though the French did not conceal their disapproval. The Saxon ministers and States, on the contrary,
zealously promoted it, and perhaps Maurice was the more
induced to go by the arrogant tone of the French allies.
But Charles even then could not come to a decision, and
Nwasted the precious time in empty talk.
Maurice and Ferdinand met on the I8th of April. The
latter was disposed for a peacufill settlement. He promised
the release of the Landgrave, that no one should suffer for
his faith, but that the differences should be arranged at a
Diet; the grievances in the Government should be redressed, and peace negotiated with France.  Ferdinand
would recommend his brother to make these concessions,




SURPRISE OF THE EMPEROR,              233
and they should be definitively arranged at a second meeting,
at Passau.  Maurice declined an armistice until then, the
26th of May; but he strongly represented to the French
the advantages of a peaceful settlement. France, however,
had other schemes in view, and the Emperor was still hesitating, which gave the French good reason to complain of
the Elector's credulity.
From  the camp, and especially from William of Hesse,
urgent advice came to settle the question speedily by an
appeal to arms. If an armistice was to begin on the 26th
of May, when the negotiations were to take place, they
Considered it all the more necessary to end the campaign
by that time, and so take advantage of the situation.
Maurice thought them hot-headed; still it was to be considered that the Emperor would strengthen the Tyrol.
There were but a few marches up the Lech from Augsburg
to the entrance of the Tyrol, to the pass which Schertlin
had desired to close, to prevent the entrance of the imperial
troops into Germany. During the second week in May,
therefore, they advanced towards the Tyrol.
The Emperor was now first undeceived, but he was helpless. When he roused himself up to offer some opposition
to the enemy, he only reached North Tyrol to find his pass
near Fdssen occupied. He was shut in in the pass called
the " Ehrenberger Klause."
The taking of the fortress of Ehrenberg by Maurice, by
a single blow, was in those days considered an exploit of
the first class, and by it he possessed himself of the key of
the Tyrol.- The Emperor was compelled to fly, and had it
not been that some of the troops of the allies mutinied after
the taking of the pass, they would probably have succeeded
in overtaking and capturing the Emperor by a forced
march. It has been supposed that it was not Maurice's
wish to do this, but this is a mistake.  He was no friend of
half measures, and had a great desire to catch the " old
ox " in his den.
The Emperor escaped to Steiermark-a general without
an army, a king without a country. His inheritance, and
the mountain fortresses of which he had scornfully boasted,
were in the hands of the enemy. John Frederic and Philip
were released; the edifice which he had reared after the
battle of Miihlberg was in ruins; he was crushed by the
blow. He had had the reputation of remaining firm and




234     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
undaunted even after great reverses, and up to 1547 this
had been so; up to that time he had taken good and ill
fortune with calmness. But the successes of that year had
intoxicated him; he had done what the most powerful cannot venture to do, and the sudden reverse which now
occurred seemed all the more disastrous.*
In explanation of how all this came about, a few words
of Lazarus Schwendi's may be useful. He says: " The Emperor gave the preference to strangers, and many grievous
and suspicious things took place under the highest of the
foreign ministers; the grievances in the empire were not
redressed, and no settled peace was concluded on the
subject of religion; thus the Emperor could not regain the
good-will of the Germans and attach them to himself, which
is evident from the fact that, at the time of Maurice's
advance, almost every one in the empire was on his side,
and no one would offer the Emperor any help or succour.
The complaints had been welcomed and approved by
everybody."
THE TREATY  OF PASSAU, AND THE RELIGIOUS PEACE OF
AUGSBURG, 1552- SEPTEMBER, I555.- CHARLES V.'s
LAST T) S. —  GENERAL RESULTS OF THE GERMAN
REFORMATION.
The Emperor left the negotiations to his brother Ferdinand,
who entered into a treaty at Passau, by which it was agreed
that the imprisoned princes should be released, and the
religious question settled on the basis of liberty of con.
science.
He felt the successes of the French on the other side of
the Rhine even more keenly than these extorted concessions. He had been at war with them from 1521 to I544;
had always beaten them; had repulsed their repeated
attacks upon Milan and Naples; he had acted with magnanimity towards them, and now, after the death of his able
rival, Francis I., Henry II., a prince by no means his equal,
and without personal merit, had succeeded, solely through
fortuitous circumstances, the elastic conscience of Maurice,
and to some extent by underhand dealings, in detaching
* This representation does not altogether agree with his opposition
to the Treaty of Passau -En,




ABDICATION OF CHARLES V.               235
three territories from the empire, which were of more value
than all which the Emperor had obtained by treaty from
the French.
The saying, "If Strasburg and Vienna are threatened at
one time, I will go to Strasburg," would not perhaps have
been carried out in practice, but it showed a true instinct.
The Turks might be regarded as a waning, the French as a
rising power, and, with their compactness as a nation, they
obtained lasting and increasing strength from every success.
Metz, an important fortress, was now in the hands of the
French, and the fate of their latest acquisitions depended
on their maintaining it. The Emperor's last enterprise was
an attempt to regain this valuable possession, but the
French had done everything to secure it; it was so skilfully
defended by Francis of Guise, external circumstances,
weather and health were so decidedly unfavourable to the
attacking party, that the Emperor's hurried campaign was a
complete failure, and in January, I553, the attempt was
given up as hopeless. It was his last enterprise and last
failure in the empire.
He now began to entertain the idea of resigning the
Lbusiness of government. Originally weakly in constitution,
and having pursued a course not likely to strengthen it, he
was prematurely old and feeble, and had lost the courage
to take up his work again. He had formerly formed various
vast projects all at once, but now all inclination for them,
and all his elasticity of will, had deserted him.  Not
that he wished to renounce politics altogether, for to do
that would have been to him not to live at all; but he
resolved to share the business, to lay down the responsibility, to exchange the burden of the immediate conduct of
it for the less thankless office of secret oversight, and above
all to leave the scenes of his keenly felt defeats. The cons.ideration might also have had some weight that, in order
to ensure the continuance of his policy, it would be advisable to introduce his young son into business, and to aid
him with his paternal advice. This might have been his idea
of the part he would take in politics when, in the autumn
of 1555, he entrusted his son Phili.) with the government
of the Netherlands, and soon after wi':h that of the Spanish
and Italian territories also. After I556 he resigned the
control of the affairs df the empire; in the autumn of the
same year the formal abdication took place, and the Em.




236      TIlE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
peror withdrew to the monastery of St. Just.* Here he
continued to take a share in politics, but selected what
gave him pleasure and no trouble; he even had a numerous
retinue, was still styled Emperor, and more couriers and
messengers came and went than at many courts. He was
occasionally overcome by the tendency to melancholy,
which he inherited from his mother, but he never had more
than passing paroxysms of it. He received information of
everything, and upon every important question issued instructions to his son; he reigned jointly with him, but
without exactly sharing the burdens of government. But even
in the peaceful seclusion of the cloister, into which he had,
as he thought, withdrawn from the turmoil of the world, the
controversy was forced upon him which had shaped his
life.  Hitherto Catholicism  had been more vigorous in
Spain than anywhere else, and he probably consoled himself with the thought that here he would never be disturbed
by the defection from the faith which had occasioned his
retirement; but Protestantism began to spring up even
here, and in some of the villages near the imperial retreat.
It seemed as if he weas never to have a respite from what
had been pursuing him all his life, for it followed him with
demon-like footsteps even here.
RETREAT OF CHARLES V., AND GENERAL KRESLrs OF
THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
The acknowledged defeat of Charles V. before the great
reform question of the sixteenth century, was a plain indication of the course destiny was taking.  The imperial
power had entered into the contest with greater resources
than had ever been possessed before; it had had a splendid
vision of regeneration, yet all had resulted in a great collapse.
While imperialism outwardly adhered to the great traditions
of the Middle Ages, it was in reality as much a stranger to
them  as to the modern movements which it aimed to
suppress. Entirely destitute of the great moral levers of the
Middle Ages, the devotion of vassals and religious enthusiasm; even at enmity with the most potent sources of
medieval development, it entered into a conflict with the
e Stirling's Cloister Iife of Charles V., I85,3. (Cachard, Retraite
et mort de Charles V., Brux., I854. Pichot, CharlesV., Paris, 1853,
Mignet, Charles V., son abdication, &c., 1854.




RESULTS OF THE REFORMATION.              2 3 7
national idea, and the spirit of religious liberty which was
then making way; and its only weapon, the heartless
modern policy of cabinets, which takes cognizance of outward factors only, showed in glaring colours its absolute
impotence and absolute isolation.'lhis being the inevitable fate of a policy which had
enormous resources at its disposal, and which, when it
undertook to restore mediaeval uniformity, secular and
ecclesiastical, was not in unskilful hands, it was plain that
the attempt was an absurdity, that the time for it was gone
by for ever, that even the greatest personages were not
equal to the task.
Recent events, therefore, were a great victory for those
opposition tendencies which were labouring to subdue the
mediaeval spirit and institutions. The weapon of the Middle
Ages, the imperial power, had once again obtained th.e
ascendancy, but it had now sunk lower than ever. The
unity of the faith, which an attempt had been made to enforce by external means, was broken up, and a dualism
established in the Western Church, which it was henceforth
impossible to prevent; the nations were become independent, having burst the bonds of cabinet policy. With the
help of the people, the reigning princes had just obtained a
complete victory for the cause of religion. Thus, all that
was opposed to mediaevalism was completely in the ascendant. It was this which gave a historical significance to
recent events, and to the retreat of the Emperor.
Late in the autumn of x555, the peace which had been
promised, and the preliminaries of which had been settled
at Passau, was concluded at Augsburg.
It was based upon all that had been considered as merely
temporary concession ever since 1532.  "A peace shall be
established and concluded," it was said, "which shall be
permanent, absolute, and unconditional, and which shall
last for ever."
In accordance with this, it was ordained by the decree of
the Diet, on the 25th of September, x555, that neither his
imperial majesty, nor electors, nor princes, nor States, shall
offer violence to any State on account of the Augsburg Confession, or of its religion or faith, nor in any way molest
them on account of this confession, or ecclesiastical usages
and ordinances, but leave them quietly alone in possession
of their property, and religious differences shall only be




238      THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
adjusted by peaceful Christian m ethods. But the new
doctrines which were not in accordance with the Augsburg
Confession were not included in this settlement. This was
specially aimed at the Reformed party, the followers of
Zwingli and Calvin, whose doctrines were now agitating a
great part of the world.
Altogether, there was a good deal in the Peace which
made it burdensome to both parties; the right to retain
their faith was granted to the electors, princes, and states of
the empire, but it was to them only, not to their subjects.
The principle of I526, cuiZs regio, eits reldgio, was again
adopted and permanently established. It was not liberty of
conscience that was granted in our sense of the term, but
liberty for the governments to choose their creed. This
principle involved both parties in difficulty. The Protestants thought, if this is strictly carried out we shall have no
security that Protestant subjects of Catholic ecclesiastical
princes will not be molested and suffer violence.  They
therefore sought protection in a clause by which it was provided that cities, nobles, and districts which were subject to
ecclesiastics, but had long adhered to the Augsburg Confession, should not be compelled to renounce it, but should
be left unmolested until a final settlement was arrived at.
But there was also a difficulty for the Catholic princes.
If the bishops took it into their heads to turn Protestants,
and to secularise their bishoprics, the result would be the
same as in the case of Cologne. To obviate this, Ferdinand
put in the clause relating to "ecclesiastical reservation "
(reserva/io ecclesiastica), which provided that if an ecclesiastical State leaves the ancient Church, its dignity and
honours remain undiminished (honors et fama illibatis), but
it is to be deprived of its livings and bishoprics.
The Peace of Augsburg conceded the legal right of the
two Churches to exist side by side, and thus broke through
the mediaeval Church system.
A violent convulsion had taken place in this and all other
countries, and there was a general impression that a new
era was at hand.
It is always difficult to trace the permanent results of a
process of development. During such transition periods all
things are in a state of growth, and they are anything but
times of peaceful enjoyment of the advantages gained, or of
objective contemplation of the changes taking place.




RESULTS OF THE REFORMATION.              239
Nevertheless, certain great outlines were traced at this
time to which it took men a long time to become accustomed, but which undoubtedly indicated the essential and
lasting form of a new order of things.
Besides this, the temporal power had at length obtained
its rights. Political life had freed itself from the unnatural
bondage of ecclesiastical fetters, from the unconditional
subjection of the laity to ecclesiastical authority, and its exclusive supremacy in matters of faith. Education and domestic
life was at an end. The State regained its natural sovereignty,
was in a position to pursue its moral objects undisturbed,
and within its own sphere to reject all ecclesiastical interference. The modern state, which is utterly different from
that of the Middle Ages, and, in that it has aims of its own
to pursue, and is not the tool of a power external to it, is
more like the states of antiquity, was in embryo, and thus a
mighty creation was preparing for future times.
Further, learning and intellectual life altogether had outgrown the restrictions of ecclesiastical authority, and had
begun to take a course of its own. It need not be said
that a comparatively large intellectual development was
possible even within the old limits.  No one, with the
imperishable monuments of medireval art and poetry before
him, will assert that intellectual life was slumbering in the
Middle Ages. But its development was one-sided, and
those spheres which required a freedom unknown at that
period received but little or no attention.  Mediaeval
philosophy was but the handmaid of theology, calculated
to cultivate that formal way of thinking which was not
only subject to the dogmatic teaching of the Church, but
consented to verify it from its own immutable principles.
Whoever passed these limits was a heretic. Speculative
thought, which is subject to its own laws, and acknowledges no others, was incompatible with this; the impulse
to look a newly-discovered truth in the face, and to investigate it unrestrained by outward prohibitions, was now first
allowed full play. And with this the first impulse to true
learning was given.
Free scope was now for the first time given to historical
research into the life of nations, to the investigation of men
and things as they really were, without having a programme
prescribed beforehand; and it was the same with the study
of the natural world. It was quite in the medixeval spirit




240     THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY.
that the earth had been hitherto regarded, as in the Old
Testament, as a disc, the heavens as a shade, so to speak,
placed over it, and the sun and stars as the moving fire.
balls of this stationary world; and it was quite in the modem
spirit that these theories were no longer heeded, and conclusions drawn from  the discoveries of Columbus and
Copernicus entirely irrespective of them.
It is this research in accordance with the laws of experience and observation, in the world of nature and the
world of mind, that distinguishes the modem from the
mediaeval spirit, and the first world-wide impulse to it bea
with the Reformatio




PART IV,
CALV ISM, AND THE BEGINNING OF CATHOLIC
RESTORATION.*
CHAPTER XVIII.
Calvin's Youth.-Characteristics of the Man and his System. —The
1" Institutio Religionis Christianar," 1536.-Calvin's Ecclesiastical
State in Geneva.-The Attempt, 1536-8.-Success, 154-64. —
The Organization of January, 1542.-Ecclesiastical and Moral
Discipline of Calvinism, and its Historical Importance.
CALVW'S YOUTH. —-CH ARACTERISTICS OF HIS SYSTEM.
AS trie German Reformation is connected with Martin
Luther, and the Swiss with Ulrich Zwingli, that of the
Romanic and Western European nations is connected with
John Calvin, the most remarkable personage of the time.
He was not equal either to Luther or Zwingli in general
talent, mental vigour, or tranquillity of soul; but in logical
acuteness and talent for organization he was at least equal,
if not superior, to either.  He settled the basis for the
development of many' states and churches.
He stamped the form  of the Reformation in countries to
which he was a stranger. The French date the beginnings
of their literary development from him. and his influence
was not restricted to the sphere of religion, but embraced
their intellectual life in general; no one else has so permanently influenced the spirit and form of their written
language as he.
* Joh. Calvini Opera. Amstelod, I667. Johann Calvins Leben, von
P. Henry. Hamburg, I835. Weber, Geschichte des Calvinismus,
I836. Bungener, Calvin, sa vie, son ceuvre et ses dcrits, 1862. Merle
d'Aubign6, Histoire de la Reformation au temps de Calvin, L —.II,
1864-63.
i 6




242                CALVINISM.
Calvin was younger than Luther and Zwingli by almost
the term of human life, and was a child when the first
reform movements began in Germany and Switzerland.
He was not the originator of the idea of breaking away
from the ancient Church, and of founding a rew Chriktianity
on the basis of the Scriptures.  The German and Swiss
Reformers had the priority in this respect. ~ The revolutionary
element especially, which was combined with the Reformation, could not have originated with him; he belongs almost
to the second generation of its representatives.
Calvin was a pupil of the German Reformation, which
originated and pursued its course independently. But this
is no reason for undervaluing his labours; and we shall find
such an individuality stamped upon his acts, that we shall
recognise in them not only their distinguishing features, but
a peculiar greatness and significance.
John Calvin was born on the x th of July, I509, at
Noyon, in Picardy, a province which has produced several
of those rugged and sharply-defined characters which we
are not accustomed to look for in France, where we expect
to find more pliant and flexible natures.
The circumstances of his parental home could not be
called unfavourable.  His father was procurator fiscal at
Noyon, and gave his son a good and learned education,
and it was his wish that he should study secular jurisprudence. He knew nothing of the suffering during childhood
by which Luther was schooled and hardened, and was likewise a stranger to the bitter spiritual conflicts through which
he passed in his youth. Calvin made acquaintance with
the modem  classical culture at the best French schools,
received excellent instruction in Greek and Latin, and was
well prepared for the technical study of jurisprudence. He
was in possession of a scholarship from his fourteenth year,
had pursued a variety of studies at Paris and Bourges, and
was to complete them at Orleans. But here, as with Luther
at Erfurt, a change took place within him.
At Orleans the lawyer became a theologian. Here he
met with a few men-there was a German among them,
and others came afterwards-who acquainted him with the
Wittenberg doctrines, and incited him to investigate them.
HIe began to study the Scriptures and the German reformers,
and in a few years the transformation was complete, for he
never did anything by halves.




CALVIN'S YOUTH.                 243
He never disowned this Geri an influence. While he
regarded Zwingli with a certain contempt, he always had
the greatest esteem for Luther. His depth of character,
his affection for the ancient Church, and reluctant defection
from it, made a deep impression upon him.
A brilliant future would have been before him in the
ancient Church. Even in this youthful circle he was considered to possess great talent. He was early distinguished
for the precision of his ideas, the acuteness of his words,
the true French art of terse and striking expression —in
short, for his dialectic power-and it is not surprising that
his friends should imagine that he would be a great lawyer
or statesman. But with the cool determination which characterized him all his life, he renounced all these prospects.
When he devoted himself to theology an important living
was conferred upon him, though he was only eighteen. But
after embracing the new doctrines, he renounced all, and at
once began to preach his heretical convictions.
The case was very different in France from what it was
in Germany.  There, various influences were at work;
though the Emperor was opposed to the new doctrines,
the nation was for the most part in favour of them, and
their spread was increased by this schism. Heretical tendencies did exist in France, but the temporal power, in close
alliance with Rome, did all in its power to stifle them in the
bud. Calvin very soon had to fly from France, for even
the protection afforded him by some influential people
could not be permanent. He saw that those around him
who professed the same doctrines were burnt.  On the
advice of his friends, therefore, he went abroad, visited
Italy and Germany, and passed some time at Strasburg and
Basle. Here he produced his first great work, and a most
remarkable work it is, one of the ripest products of the age,
though written at a time when the first foundations of the
Reformation were already laid. - It was the "Institutio
Christianae Religionis," which appeared in I 536.*
The book was aftenrwards translated into French. It was
the first important archive in French prose in the sixteenth
century, and it has had an immense influence upon the
literature of the nation.  Calvin's prose formed a real
epoch in France. The fundamental idea of the works
* Antwerp edition, 9 vols.




244                  CALVINISM.
which first appeared in Latin, may be discovered from the
plan of it.
The " Institutio" consists of four books, of which the
first, " De Cognitione Dei Creatoris," treats of man's relation
to God and of original sin; the second, " De Cognitione Dei
Redemptoris," of Christology and the doctrines of the New
Testament; the  third, "De Modo Recipiendae  Christi
Gratiae;" the fourth, "De Externis Mediis," of the outward means of revelation, the Church, the sacraments, and
the politzca administratio.
This is the structure of this admirable work. It begins
with a profound discussion of all the religious questions
which had been cleared of the dogmatic and scholastic
rubbish of the Middle Ages, and concludes with the consideration of outward means, the Christian congregation, and
the worship of God.
If we grant the great dialectician his premisses, we are
compelled to accept his conclusions.  It is generally the
premisses which are called in question.  The systematic
construction of the doctrines of the faith in the first three
books' is perhaps less interesting than the contents of
the fourth, in which he refers to the original form of the
Church, demonstrates that the hierarchy has oppressed and
overborne the true Church, that it must be restored on its
original basis, that of the congregation, and therefore everything must be renounced which even savours of the later
hierarchical superstructure.
Not less remarkable is the way in which he handles the
sacraments.
As is well known, the doctrines of Calvin still take a very
high place in theological research. He is far more logical
than Luther, in whom the first fermenting processes of the
Reformation may be traced; and he is far removed from
the moderate interpretations of Zwingli. His conception of
baptism and the supper is deeper than Zwingli's, whose
symbolical makeshifts he could not accept, and more logical
than Luther's, for he rejects transubstantiation.  There was
a touch of mystical speculation in it which places him on a
level with the greatest theological thinkers.   Zwingli's
doctrine was too superficial and prosaic for him, and on
these points Calvin's views were more like those of the
mediaval mystics.
His relation to the ancient Church was as peculiar as




CHARACTERISTICS OF CALVINISM.           245
that to the new faith. He was more bitterly opf osed to it
than any one else.  Passionate and cutting things had
indeed been ahid of Rome, but nothing so crushing had
been urged against the Curia in the whole range of polemics
as the attempt to prove that the Church of Rome, in its
origin and growth, was utterly opposed to the true Church
of Christ   Never had the hierarchical principle of the
mediaval Romish Church been the subject of a fiercer
attack than by Calvin's unimpassioned and cold-blooded
assertion, that it was utterly opposed to the original idea of
the constitution of the Church, and he was therefore regarded by Rome as a more dangerous and implacable enemy
than Luther. But, on the other hand, he was adhering to
the old Catholic principle in maintaining that Church and
State should grow together into one, each permeated by the
other. The hierarchical principle, which he rejected, nevertheless exercised an immense influence over him, with this
great difference, that his hierarchy, instead of growing out
of the papal Church system, grew out of the congregation;
the tree, as it were, grew up from seed instead of being
planted. The hierarchical tendency, love of dominion in
the name of convictions which he held to be the only
right ones, was very strongly marked in him; his ecclesiastical state was intended to interfere in all the relations of life,
in the family and education; it was to rule public morals
wit4 undisputed sway, though it was based upon the democracy of the congregation.
Calvin's historical significance lay in this, that to the comnpact system of ancient dogmatic doctrine he opposed a new
system of religion, far more compact and logical than that
of any other Reformer; also, that in the matter of Church
authority he more decidedly freed himself from Romnish
tradition than- any one else. It was his wish to see every
sphere of life under the sway of an ecclesiastical State; only
the sovereignty was to be exercised by the congregation,
instead of by the Pope.
CALVIN'S ECCLESIASTICAL STATE IN GENEVA, I 536-8
AND 1541-64.
Humanly speaking, it was a mere accident which caused
Calvin to yield to the entreaties of his friends to remain in the
city where he was to begin his renowned efforts in the




246                  CALVINISM.
cause of reform. Geneva had been from ancient times one
of the most flourishing imperial cities of the Burgundian
territory; it was situated on the frontiers of several countries
where the cross roads of various nationalities met. The
city, which in itself was remarkable, belonged originally to
the German empire; the language of its inhabitants was
Romanic; it was bounded on one side by Burgundy, on
the other by German Switzerland; was the seat of a bishopric;
and it had in its rear the secular power of the ambitious
dukes of Savoy.
Geneva was apparently in a state of political, ecclesiastical, and moral decay. With the puritanical strictness of
Geneva, as it afterwards became, before the mind's eye, it
is difficult to picture the Geneva of that day. An unbridled
love of pleasure, a reckless wantonness, a licentious frivolity
had taken possession of Genevan life, while the State was
the plaything of intestine and foreign feuds. The influence
of the bishop generally predominated in the State, while the
Duke of Savoy extended the arm of his temporal power
over the city, and took pleasure in fomenting the quarrels
between i-t and the bishop, in order that he might in the
end exchange the part of a wily mediator for that of ruler
over both. Geneva had well-nigh perished in its luxury,
pleasure, and riches. In the language of strict moralists, it
was a sort of " Sodom "-a commonwealth torn in pieces by
party spirit, the independence of which was endangered.
Reformers had already appeared in the city: Vinet, Farel,
Theodore Beza; they were Frenchmen, Farel a near neigh.
bour of Geneva. These French Reformers are of quite a
different stamp from our Germans, who, according as Luther.
or Melancthon is taken as their type, have either a plebeian
popular, or learned theological character. They are either
popular orators of great power and little polish, or they
belong to the learned circles, and keep strictly to this
character.
In- France they were mostly men belonging not to the
lower, but to the middle and higher ranks of society, refined
and cultivated; and in this fact lay the weakness of
Calvinism, which knew well how to rule the masses, but
never to gain their affection. It was more obvious that the
Bezas, the Farels, and Vinets were men of refined and
polished culture than that they were learned theologians,
and there was nothing whatever of the tribune about theim;




VINET, FAREL, BEZA.                247
they belonged to aristocratic society, were elegant and
polished speakers, and so masterly was their power of expression that they were the greatest parliamentary orators of
France.
Calvin, though he despised ornament, possessed this
power also, and he was the first writer of that keen, logical
precision, that pleasing simplicity and unadorned terseness,
which we justly admire in the masters of modern French
prose.
His greatness, however, was shown in the fanatical zeal
with which he entered the city, ready to stake his life for
his cause. He began to teach, to found a schocl, to laborr
on the structure which was the idea of his life, to introduce
reforms in doctrine, worship, the constitution and discipline
of the Church, and he preached with that powerful eloquence only possessed by those in whom character and
teaching are in unison. The purified worship was to take
place within bare, unadorned walls; no picture of Christ,
nor pomp of any kind, was to disturb the aspirations of the
soul. Life outside the temple was also to be a service of
God; games, swearing, dancing, singing, worldly amusements, and pleasure were regarded by him as sins, as much
as real vice and crimes He began to form little congregations, like those in the early ages of the Church. and it
need scarcely be said that even in this worldly and pleasureloving city the apparition of this man, in the full vigour of
life, all conviction and determination, half prophet and
half tribune, produced a powerful impression.
The number of his outward followers increased, but they
were outward followers only.  Most of them  thought it
would be well to make use of the bold Reformer to oppose
the bishop, and that he would find means of establishing a
new and independent Church, but they seemed to regard
freedom  as libertinism.  Calvin therefore regarded  the
course things were taking with profound dissatisfaction;
he was quite indifferent to the increasing number of his
followers, if they continued as worldly as before, if his strict
discipline did not take root, and if, in spite of well-filled
churches, things went on as before, as though his teaching
concerned only the outward man.
So he delivered some extremely severe sermons, which
half frightened and half estranged his hearers; and at Easter,
I538, when the congregation came to partake of the Lord's




248                  CALVINISM.
Supper, he took the unheard-of step of sending them all
back from the altar, saying, "You are not worthy to partake of the Lord's body; you are just what you were befoare;
your sentiments, your morals, and your conduct are unchanged."
This was more than could be hazarded without peril to
his life. The effect was indescribr.ble; his own friends disapproved of the step. But that did not dismay him. IHe
had barely time to flee for his life, and he had to leave
Geneva in a state of t:ansition - a chaos which justified a
saying of his own, that defection from one Church is not
renovation by another.
He was now once more an exile. He wandered about
on the frontiers of his country, in the German cities of
Strasburg, Basle, &c., and we several times meet with him
in the religious discussions between I54o and I550.- Many
important works date from this period ("De Ccena," and
the second edition of the " Institutio "). It is evident that
he was carrying on the culture of his mind, but this second
repulse perhaps left a bitterness in his spirit which he never
overcame. Life did not present itself to him under a cheerful aspect; the understanding and logic were to him all in
all; the idea that the great mission wherewith he was
entrusted had been frustrated by the frivolity of the masses
embittered his soul.
But a time came when they wished him back at Geneva.
With the beginnings of the Calvinistic transformation the
foundations were laid of greater liberty in municipal life,
but this was again endangered; it seemed as if morality
and liberty would perish together. There was for three,
years a tumult of party strife, and it was plain that Geneva
would be lost if, having forsaken the old Church, she refused
to belong to the new. These were years of bitter trial.
Calvin compared them to the time when the Lord's people
were in the wilderness. But a great triumph was in store
for him, for the people were soon saying with one voice,
"Let us recall the man who wished to renovate our faith,
our morals, and our liberties." An urgent request was preferred to him to return and to become lawgiver of the
city.
In September, 1 54I, he returned, and began his celebrated
labours. Endowed with supreme power, like Lycurgus at
Sparta, he set to work to make Geneva a city of the Lerd —




CALVIN'S ECCLESIASTICAL STATE.             249
to found an ecclesiastical state in which religion, public life,
government, and the worship of God were to be all of a
piece, and an extraordinary task it was.  Calvinistic Geneva
became the school of reform for western Europe, and
scattered far and wide the germs of similar institutions.
In timnes when Protestantism elsewhere had become cool,
this school carried on the conflict with the medieval
Church.
Calvin was implacable in his determination to purify tlhe
worship of God of all needless adjuncts.  All that was
calculated to charm  and affect the senses was abolishel;
spiritual worship should be independent of all eartl:ly
things, and should consist of edification by the word, and
silnmple spiritual songs. All the traditional externals that
Luther had retained-altars, pictures, ceremonials, and
decorations of every kind-were dispensed with.  It was
one of the characteristics of the Middle Ages that the
Church thought as much of exciting the senses of the
faithful as of promoting edification and religious feeling,
and in course of time it might almost be said with w;
injustice that the sensuous had gained the victory over the
spiritual.  Calvin laboured consistently in the contrary
direction.  When we look at average human nature, it is
quite open to doubt whether this principle in all its stringency can be permanently carried out; but it was a grand
idea to restore fhe almost extinguished spiritual element in
religion to its original supremacy. It may be objected that
it expects too much of human nature, but not that it is
opposed to the spirit of Christianity.
Calvin next established a system of Church discipline
which controlled the individual in every relation of life, and
ruled him from the cradle to the grave. He retained all the
means by which ecclesiastical authority enforced obedience
on the faithful in the Middle Ages-baptism, education up to
confirmation, penance, penal discipline, and excommunication. There was, of course, no consecration of priests, and
he reduced the number of sacraments to a minimum; but
no other reformer so far demanded the sacrifice of personal
freedom; and indeed on this point he far surpassed the
ancient Church, for her theoretical strictness was modified
by indulgences and other latitudinarian practices, whereas
Calvin's theories were carried out with the utmost rigour.
There was, howe-'er, one mitigation: they were not irn



250                 CALVINISM.
posed by the sovereignty of an individual, but by a minister
and administrator chosen by a self-governing community.
It was a great idea to enforce the strictest discipline and
entire subjection, but to enforce it in the name of the community instead of by sovereign power.
There is no more interesting spectacle in history than
Calvinism-this curious combination of the reformed and
mediaeval Church system, of modern monarchical and
ancient republican government.
Calvin began his labours late in the autumn of I 541, and he
a'lquired and maintained more power than was ever exercised
by the most powerful popes. He was indeed only the
" preacher of the word," but through his great influence he
was the lawgiver, the administrator, the dictator of the
State of Geneva. There was nothing in the commonwealth
that had not been ordained by him, and this indicates a
remarkable aspect of his character.
The organization of the State of Geneva began with the
ordinances of the 2nd of January, 1542. There were four
orders of officials-pastors, teachers, elders, and deacons.
The Consistory was formed of the pastors and elders. The
pastors were to preach, teach, and distribute the sacraments.  Every candidate for the office underwent an
examination as to whether he had a sound knowledge of
Scripture, whether he had the capacity for instructing the
people in it, whether he was a man of good conduct and
had lived a blameless life. Only those who had passed this
triple test were eligible by the community. The duties of
pastors were precisely defined. They were to celebrate the
Lord's Supper four times a year; psalms were to be sung
before and after the sermon. They were to conduct the
education of youth, visit the families to see that no one
came to the Lord's table ignorantly or unprepared, and they
were regularly to visit prisoners and the sick.
It was the special duty of the Consistory, which was composed of the clergy and twelve laymen, to see that the
ordinances were duly observed, and it was the supreme
tribunal of morals. The twelve laymen were elected for a
year, by the council of two hundred, on the nomination by
the clergy. The Consistory met every Thursday to see that
everything in the church was in order.  They had the
power of excommunication, but this only consisted in ex.
clusion from the community of the faithful, and the loss of




CALVIN'S ECCLESIASTICAL STATE.           251
tile privilege of partaking of the Lord's Supper.  It also
decided questions relating to marriage. The deacons had
the care of the poor and of almsgiving.
Calvin himself was the soul of the whole organization.
But he was a cold, stiff, almost gloomy being, and his
character produces a very different impression from the
genial warmth of Luther, who could be cheerful and merry
with his family. Half Old Testament prophet, half repub.
lican demagogue, Calvin could do anything in his State, but
it was by means of his personal influence, the authority of
his words, " the majesty of his character," as was said by a
magistrate of Geneva after his death. He was to the last
the simple minister, whose frugal mode of life appeared to
his enemies like niggardliness. After a reign of twentythree years, he left behind him the possessions of a mendicant monk. His poverty was his pride. The poor could
tell of his kindness and generosity, and the city became
immensely rich under his rule; he lived and cared to live
only for the good of all, and it was this that made him
appear so majestic, so dignified, to his State. Ie was
not only a dictator in his republic, but a power in Europe.
His influence may be seen by his correspondence.*  He
wrote to Margaret of Valois; wrote opinions in detail for
the young King Edward VI. of England; corresponded
with  Bullinger, Melancthon, Knox; gave counsel to
Coligny, Cond6, Jeanne D'Albret, the Duchess of Ferrara.
In Geneva he was like a Samuel, before whom all prostrated
themselves; in his letters we observe the modest tone of
the simple clergyman, and yet the conscious pride of the
man who had been true to his convictions. His position
was a regal and commanding one.
Still he had something of the passion and excitability
which characterize his countrymen. Though he possessed
great self-control, and was generally calm and cold, yet
when opposite opinions were broached to those which ruled
his life, his rage vented itself in fearful storms; the hierarch,
the reformed pope, the Old Testament prophet, in him
broke out, crushing all that came in his way; mostly, however, he was temperate, and even conciliatory, to his
opponents.
His treatment of Servetus is a case in point. Servetus
* Edited by Bonnet. Paris, 1854




252                 CALVINISM.
honestly held an opposite theological opinion, and defended
it with the zeal of a martyr, and Calvin had him burnt as
heretics were burnt in the Middle Ages. This is the darkest
spot in his life, and nothing can efface it.
To explain his power we must view his character as a
whole. The republic which he governed had, before his
time, been frivolous and dissolute; it now became a pattern
of gloomy puritanical strictness.  He ruled by his irreproachable life, by the majesty of his unselfishness, but also
by the crushing weight of his irresistible will, and, in case of
need, by the terrors of fanaticism. His Christian republic
was a theocracy after the pattern of the Old Testament; he
did not want the Church to rule the State nor the State the
Church; the Statewas so entirelyto comprehend theChurch
that the boundary line between them should disappear. It
was plain that a system like this could only be carried out,
even in a small State, by the moral power of an exceptionally energetic individual will. Calvin solved this great
problem in the period between I54.I-6I, and at the end
of nearly three centuries the system remained in the same
grooves-the stamp which he impressed upon the people
was uneffaced, and more than a century after his death the
features of the Geneva school were plainly distinguishable.
No other reformer established so rigid a church discipline. He wished that it should effect a transformation in
every sphere of life, and he was in no way influenced by
the more liberal views which Luther and Zwingli took of
these things.
Even as early as I536 he appeared as a reformer of
morals,* with a novel view of crime, and enforcing exemplary strictness in punishment. It has already been mentioned that all noisy games, games of chance, dancing,
singing of profane songs, cursing and swearing, were forbidden, and that church-going and Sabbath-keeping were
strictly enjoined. The moral police took account of everything. Every citizen had to be at home by nine o'clock,
under heavy penalties. Adultery, which had previously
been punished by a few days' imprisonment and a small
fine, was now punished by death; an adulteress was
actually drowned in the Rhone, and two adulterers beheaded. It was forbidden to swear even at animals. A
* Schenkel, Wesen des Protestantismus.




HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE OF CALVINISM. 253
child that had abused its mother was put upon bread and
water; another that had thrown stones at its mother, publicly whipped and hung up to the gallows by its arms; and
one that had struck its parents was executed. Sensual sias
were generally punished by drowning; singing profane
songs, by banishment; a woman was publicly whipped for
singing a worldly song to a psalm tune, and an educoated
man who was caught reading Poggio's licentious tale, imprisoned; any one found playing cards was condemned to
stand in the pillory with the cards round his neck. Thk.e
ancient festivities at weddings were entirely done away
with; no drums or music were allowed in the processions,
no dancing at the feast. The theatre was interdicted except
when Biblical scenes were represented; novel reading was
entirely forbidden, and if any one wrote anything objectionable he was sent to prison.
Thus the Reformed Church discipline was carried out with
the same consistency and rigidity as in the old monastic
life, and the consequences of so unnatural a state of things
were not unknown in this case.
CALVINISTIC DISCIPLINE AND ITS HISTORICAL
SIGNIFICANCE.
Man was not placed in the world to torment himself
with penances and flagellations; though not intended to be
an abode of pleasure, pleasure ought not to be banished
from it. Luther saw this plainly, and did not despise cheerful recreation, but considered it a part of Christian life.
The world was not intended to be made a prayer-meeting,
and he who tries to make it so is in danger of sowing the
seeds of mere outward sanctity-in other words, of hypocrisy. Extreme views of this sort-a certain Methodistical
piety which takes a pride in renouncing every innocent
enjoyment, and in gloomy views of life-have always been
united with Calvinism.
Still it is undeniable that it was of great importance,
especially for that period.
This mode of treating the world and men was not so
much Christian, as Spartan or ancient Roman. No one will
maintain that all mankind can be ruled and trained by these
means; but it cannot be denied that within certain limits it
produced vigorous characters, men of self-denying devotion




254                 CALVINISM.
and heroic courage, and in this fact lay the importance of
Calvin's pattern State.
A school of men was to be trained, who, temperate and
vigorous, despising both the pleasures and temptations of
life, should be prepared to make great sacrifices and to perform great deeds for the sake of an idea of world-wide significance; and the effect produced by this school, both at
home and abroad, was really astounding. Life in Geneva
was entirely transformed; the previous bustling activity was
replaced by solemn, priestly earnestness; the old frivolity
disappeared; magnificence in attire was no longer thought
of; nothing was heard of dances or masquerades; the taverns
and theatre were empty, the churches crowded: a tone of
devout piety pervaded the city.
And this school extended itself as a mighty propaganda;
we find its influence among the French and Dutch Calvinists, and especially among the Scotch Presbyterians and
English Puritans, who are offshoots of the Genevan parental
tree.
At a time when Europe had no solid results of reform to
show, this little State of Geneva stood up as a great power;
year by year it sent forth apostles into the world, who
preached its doctrines everywhere, and it became the most
dreaded counterpoise to Rome, when Rome no longer had
any bulwark to defend her.
The missionaries from this little community displayed the
lofty and dauntless spirit which results from a stoical education and training; they bore the stamp of a self-renouncing
heroism which was elsewhere swallowed up in theological
narrowness. They were a race with vigorous bones and
sinews, for wh om nothing was too daring, and who gave a
new direction to Protestantism by causing it to separate
itself from the old traditional monarchical authority, and to
adopt the gospel of democracy as part of its creed.
It formed a weighty counterpoise to the desperate efforts
which the ancient Church and monarchical power were
making to crush the spirit of the Reformation.
It was impossible to oppose Caraffa, Philip II., and the
Stuarts, with Luther's passive resistance; men were wanted
who were ready to wage war to the knife, and such was the
Calvinistic school. It everywhere accepted the challenge;
throughout all the conflicts for political and religious liberty,
up to the time of the first emigration to America, in France,




HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE OF CALVINISM. 255
the Netherlands, England, and Scotland, we recognise the
Genevan school. A little bit of the world's history was
enacted in Geneva, which forms the proudest portion of the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.  A number of the
most distinguished men in France, the Netherlands, and
Great Britain professed her creed; they are sturdy, gloomy
souls, iron characters cast in one mould, in which there was
an into rfusion of Romanic, Germanic, medimval, and modern
elemer, ts; and the national and political consequences of
the new faith were caxried out bv them with the utmost
rigour and cotsiatc;,.




CHfAPTER XIV.
4,fonmation and Res:oration in Italy —Division of Opi4don amoWn
the People.-Vacillation of the Curia.-Opinion of the Cardinals
on Reform ill I537.-ConciliatoryAttitude till I54I.-The Council
of Trent and tile Catholic Restoration.-First Meeting of the
Council, December, 1545-7.-Rudeness of the Curia to the Emperor and Protestants. -Second Meeting, May,  551. —Pope
Paul IV. (Caraffa), I555-9. Third Meeting, January, 1562, to the
end of I563.-Pope Pius IV., I559-65.-Progress and Results of
the Negotiation.-Increased Consolidation of the Ecclesiastical
Power- Precautions against Sectarianism.- Reconstruction of
the Shattered Religious System.-Improvement in the Intellectual
and Moral Training of the Clergy.
ITALY AND THE REFORMATION.*
TfHE conflict with the hierarchy did not take the same form
in Italy as elsewhere; there were two opposite opinions
on the subject. According to one, the national and historical
existence of Italy was closely bound up with the hierarchy;
accor(ling to the other, which was held by Machiavelli, the
hierarchy was fatal to Italian liberties. The former opinion
was far the most widely prevalent.  It was nothing to the'Italians that foreign nations complained of the oppression
of the hierarchy. There is no doubt that the masses saw
no cause for discontent under it.  We have proof that the
hierarchy was popular-that among the people, dow-n to the
lowest grades, the undiminished splendour of the Papacy
was looked upon as a pledge of the power of Italy.
But this did not prevent reform movements from taking
place.  The Humanistic school had its home here; its opposition tendencies had not spared the Church any mo-e
than Schllasticism; it had everywhere been the precursor
an(i ally of the intellectual revolt, and not the least in Italy.
There were from  the first eminent individuals at Venice,' Ranke, Fiirsten und V61lker. 3 Aluflage. 1854.




THE CARDINALS ON REFORM.                2 7
Modena, Ferrara, Florence, even in the States of the Church
themselves, who were more or less followers of Luther.
The cardinals Contarini and Morone, Bembo and Sadolet,
distinguished preachers like Peter Martyr, Johann Valdez,
and Bernardino Occhino, and from among the princely
families an intellectual lady, Renata of Ferrara, were inclined
to the new doctrines.  But they were leaders without fol
lowers; the number of their adherents among the masses
was surprisingly small.*
The Roman Curia, under the Pontificate of Paul III.,
X534-49, vacillated in  its policy for a time; between
1537-41, the prevailing sentiments were friendly and conciliatory towards Reform. It was at this time that the famous
book appeared, " Del Beneficio di Giesu Cristo Crocifisso"
(The Benefit of Christ's Death), which acquainted  the
Italians with the Lutheran doctrine of justification by faith,
and obtained an unexampled success among the reading
world, 1540.+
They were, in fact, gravely entertaining the question at
Rome, whether it would not be better to come to terms with
Reform, to adopt the practicable part of its programme, and
so put an end to the schism which was spreading so fast in
the Church. It was at this time that the short episode in.
the papal policy occurred to which the opinion pronounced
by the cardinals of 1537 affords lasting testimony.
As a confession by the Church of its need of reform, this
document must engage a moment's attention.
It was openly acknowledged that the Popes had often
selected servants, not that they might learn from the Popes
the duties required of them, but that the Popes might have
things which they lusted after proclaimed as allowable. Out
of the adulation which followed upon the heels of every
princely appointment, the doctrine had been established
that the Pope was lord of all things in the Church, and that
the reproach of simony could not be applied to him. A
vast number of abuses had arisen from this source.
The cardinals acknowledged in general terms that the
* " Reform without schism" may be called the ideal of the Italian
Reformers of that age; it is shown by A. Bonnet, in the life of Aollio
Paleario, that they had more followers among the people than is generally supposed.-ED.
t It is perfectly clear to me that Paleario could not be the author ol
this work, from comparing the style with his mode of expreaion in his
Discourses.
Tar




258       ITALY AND THE REFORMATION.
causes of schism did not lie so much in any opp osition to
the Church, as in the state of the Church itself, from the
disastrous abuses connected with the doctrine of the papal
supremacy.  This was indeed a striking confirmation of
what the great Reform party beyond Italy had been saying
and writing for years about the disease and cure of the
Church.
And they really desired reform. The mode of granting
benefices, plurality of spiritual offices, simony, reversions and
commendams, the system of dispensations, the demoralistion in monasteries, the financial system of the Curia, the
degraded lives of the clergy; —all these were enumerated as
spots which required cleansing, and it amounted to wry
much the same as what had been demanded in the early
days of the Reformation. The effect of this document may
be traced for some years, especially in the conciliatory tone
which was adopted by the Curia at the religious discussions
in Germany, in I540-4I. An honest desire then still prevailed to effect a reconciliation. Contarini was in favour of
it with his whole soul.. But it proceeded no farther than the
attempt; for once the differences seemed likely to be
adjusted, so far as this was possible; but in 1542, the revulsion took place, which was never again reversed.
Only one result remained. The Pope could no longer
refuse to summon a council. The Emperor had been
urging it year after year; the Pope had acceded to it
further than any of his predecessors had done; and, considering the retreat which now took place, this concession
was the least that could be demanded.
At length, therefore, three years after it was convened, in
May, I542, the council assembled at Trent in December,
1545.
THE COUNCIL OF TRENT* AND THE CATHOLIC
RESTORATION.
It was the Emperor's great desire that a council should
be held in Germany, that thus the confidence of the Ger.
mans in the supreme tribunal in the great controversy might
* Historia del Concilio Tridentino di Pietro Soave Polano (Paolo
Sarpi), I6I9-often translated into Latin, French, and German. On the
other side: Storia del Concilio di Trento, scritta dal Padre Sforza
Pallavicini, I656. J. H. von Wessenberg, Die grossen Kirchen,
ersammlungen des 15 und i6 Centurie,  84o.




THE COUNCIL OF TRENT.              259
be gained; but. the selection of Trent, which nominally
belonged to Germany, was the utmost concession that could
be obtained.
The intentions of the Emperor and the Pope with regard
to the council were entirely opposed to each other.  The
Pope was determined to stifle all opposition in the bud,
while the Emperor was very desirous of having a counteipoise to the Pope's supremacy in council, provided always
that it concurred in the imperial programme.
The very commencement of the proceedings of the
council was indicative of the position taken by the Papal
Chair. The council was opened on i3th of December,
I 545, by Marcellus Cervinus, Johann del Monte, and
Reginald Pole, as Papal legates. Their first step was an
attempt to set aside the declaration, Quod concilium poles/atem immediate a Chrislo habeat, &c., in which they were in
the main successful. To the astonishment of the assembly,
it was then stated that the legates could not decide on any
resolution without the consent of the Pope. The plan of
voting according to nations was also set aside, and it was
expressly stated that they were not at Constance or Basle,
and that the Pope, as represented by his legates, had the
pre-eminence.
All the proceedings were so arranged that the entire
conduct of them was in the hands of the Curia. As before
stated,* the Emperor's wish that those questions might be
first considered on which Catholics and Protestants were
agreed, was entirely set aside, and Rome insisted that the
very questions on which they most differed should be first
brought forward, and they were handled in a spirit which
made any understanding as difficult as possible.
It was only on one point that the assembly could be said
to be in any way influenced by the new doctrines, namely,
on the subject of justification. The doctrine was not again
put forth in accordance with the principle of Tetzel's barefaced sale of indulgences; it was quietly essentially altered.
Not that Luther's doctrine was adopted, but an intelligible
compromise was sought between Pelagianism and Augustinian one-sidedness, and a middle course was adopted
which gave some scope for justification by faith, but in
which the doctrine of good works was also retained in a
way which Luther would never have approved.
* Page zI9.




260      ITALY AND THE REFORMATION.
This occupied a considerable time. The Emperor had
hoped that reforms would have been introduced calculated
to put an end to schism, instead of which modern'xrors were
met by the dogmatic assertion of the absolute Correctness
of the old doctrines. "Ours is the true teaching," it was
said; "your pretended interpretations are nothing to us."
Nevertheless some reforms were carried out. Between
the time of meeting and adjournment, December, I545, to
the spring of 1547, the following were the main points
decided on:I. The bishops were to provide better teachers and
better schools.
2. The bishops should themselves expound the word of
God.
3. Penalties were to be enforced for the neglect of their
duties, and various rules were laid down as to the necessary
qualifications for the office of a bishop. Dispensations,
licenses, and privileges were abolished.
The Church was therefore to be subjected to a reform
which abolished sundry abuses, without conceding any
changle in her teaching.
The course the council was taking excited the Emperor's
extreme displeasure. He considered that this agitation of
disputed points was a challenge to him and his'plans, and
that there was not much sincerity in the plans for reform.
They were too much bent on condemning the heretics, and
too little on improving the Church.
The consequence was that the Emperor began to make
his influence felt in the council. He organized a sort of
opposition to Rome; his commissaries kept up a good
understanding with the Protestants, and it was evident that
he meant to make use of them for an attack on the Pope.
This made Rome eager to withdraw the assembly from the
influence of German bishops and imperial agents as soon as
possible. A fever which had broken out at Trent, but had
soon disappeared, was made a pretext for transferring the
council to Bologna in the spring of I54.7. The imperial
commissioners protested that the decrees of such a holeand-corner council would be null and void.
The contest remained undecided for years. Paul III.
died in the midst of-it, in November, 1549, and was succeeded by Cardinal del Monte, one of the papal egates at
the council, as Pope Julius III. The Emperor at length




THE COUNCIL OF TRENT.                261
came to an understanding with him, and in May, 1551, the
council was again opened at Trent. The Emperor's position
in Germany made it necessary for him to be at p ace with
the Pope, and peace was restored just as the heaviest storm
of all broke over hirfi in Germany, by the ecclesiastical and
political rebellion organized against him by Prince Maurice;
and but little help in withstanding this could be looked for
from  the assembly at Trent.  The assembly remained
Catholic; the Protestant elements, which were represented
at first, all disappeared after the turn of affairs in 1552.
After that there was no further thought of an understan ling
with the heretics. The results for reform were very small
indeed. The proceedings were dragging wearily on when
a fresh adjournment was announced  in  I5 2. Pope
Julius III. died in March, i555.  His successor, the noble
Cardinal Cervin, elected as Marcellus II., died after only
twenty-two days, and was succeeded by Cardinal Caraffa as
Paul IV., 1555-9.
Just when ail hope was given up in Germany of bringing
the heretics peaceably back, this new Pope was elected from
the house of Caraffa. The idea now was to reorganize the
ancient Church, to establish it on a firmer foundation, and
to surround it by a more secure fence, even if within narrower limits, before any fresh attempt was made to convert
the heretics. Paul IV. was the impersonation of this idea.
He was the Pope of the restoration.- The warm Neapolitan
blood flowed in his veins, and he was a fiery, energetic
character. He was not in favour of any concessions or
abatement, but for a complete breach with the new doctrines, and a thorough exclusiveness for the ancient Church.
He was one of the ablest men of the time. As early as
in I542 he had advised that no further concessions should
be made, but that the Inquisition, of which indeed he was
the creator, should be restored. It was he who decidedly
initiated the great Catholic reaction. He established the
Spanish Inquisition in Italy, instituted the first Iidex, and
gave the Jesuits his powerful support in the interests of the
restoration.
This turn of affairs was the answer to the German
religious Peace.  Since the Protestants no longer corncerned themselves about Rome, Rome was about to set her
house in order without them, and as a matter of course the
council stood still.




262      ITALY AND THE REFORMATION.
Paul IV. openly said that the reforms which he had
promised could be made without a council, and, if possible,
i't was his intention' to ward them off altogether. But there
were difficulties in the way of this. The temporal Catholic
princes themselves, whose orthodoxy was beyond question,
the kings of France and Spain, King Ferdinand, and the
Duke of Bavaria, had made definite demands for reform,
respecting the rights of the national Churches, the election
of bishops, protection against the fiscal arts of Rome, and
even on such points as the celibacy of the clergy. These
demands gave rise to all sorts of contests, and the result
was that the council was convened afresh by the next Pope,
Pius IV. (1559-65), in November, 1560, and so the Council
of Trent was opened for the third time in January, 1562.
Then began the important period of the council, during
which the legislation to which it has given a name was enacted. When it first met it might have been thought that the
Protestants might have been won over by one concession or
another, but there was no thought of this now; the sole idea
was to endow the ancient Church with fresh power, to surround her with more impenetrable and permanent bulwarks.
No counteracting influence, such as had once been exercised by Charles V., could be looked for from any temporal
prince. The Curia reigned supreme, and, in spite of the
remonstrances of the Emperor and of France, decided that
the council should be considered a continuation of the previous ones, which meant-" All the decrees aimed against
the Protestants are in full force; we have no further idea of
coming to terms with them." The next proceeding was to
interdict books and arrange an Index.
Distinguished and gifted ecclesiastics contended with
great energy for the divine origin and consequent inviolability of ecclesiastical authority as opposed to the demands
of the temporal rulers, which at first gave rise to stormy
scenes. The most eminent among them was Jacob Lainez,
the second general and special organizer of the order of
the Jesuits.
He was the leader of the ultra-Romanising party, and
the most earnest representative of the view that it was of
the first moment to strengthen anew the foundations of the
rock of St. Peter, the unity of the authority of the Church
as instituted by God. The Church, he said, is eternal; she
is based upon divine, not human laws, while States are the




THE CoUNCIL OF TRENT.               263
creations of man, transitory and variable according to his
fancy. "The Church did not make herself, neither did
she institute her own government; but Christ, her ruler and
monarch, first gave her laws. States, on the contrary,
founded their governments on liberty; all power was originally in the hands of the commonalties, who entrusted it
to their rulers, without, however, depriving themselves of
power." * In their zeal to establish the essential differences
between Church and State, these Romanists adopt the
doctrine of the sovereignty of the people. Bellarmini is in
agreement with Lainez when he says, " It is obvious that
it depends upon the multitude whether they have a king,
consuls, or other officials as rulers, and if they have a legitimate reason they can change a monarchical for an aristocratic government, as was the case in the history of ancient
Rome."
And the views of the Romanists prevailed. The restoration of the indisputable authority of the Pope was the ruling
principle of all the decrees; what was done for the cause of
Reform was as nothing compared with what was required,
and was overruled by the reservation in favour of the papal
authority, to which all decisions as to the abolition of
abuses were referred. Paul IV. was right when he said
that " the fathers in the council had been so moderate in
the matter of reform, and so considerate of him, that reform
would have been carried much further if he had undertaken
it himself."
The great achievement of the council for the unity of
the Catholic Church was this: it formed into a code of
laws, on one consistent principle, that which in ancient
times had been variable and uncertain, and which had-been
almost lost sight of in the last great revolution.  Controverted questions were replaced by dogmas, doubtful
traditions by definite doctrines; a uniformity was established
in matters of faith and discipline which had never existed
before, and an impregnable bulwark was thus erected against
the sectarian spirit and the tendency to innovation.t
Still when this unity was established upon a solid basis,
the universal Church of former times was torn asunder,
for a portion of the West had escaped from the fold,
including some of those who had been formerly some
of the most faithful sons of the Catholic Church. It was
~ Ranke, Zeitschrift.   t Wessenberg. Ranke.




t64j     ITALY AND THE REFORMATION,
only the Spanish and Italian peninsulas which were still
unconditionally subject to her, for even France was only
partially so, but within this circumscribed area the papal
dominion was more firmly established than ever: its independence of councils was more unequivocally declared
than it had ever been in the Middle Ages. It was settled
for ever that demands like those made at Constance and
Basl., attempts at national reform, like the mighty efforts
latel, made, were illegal.
What the Church gained by these means in solidity
md compactness was almost enough to indemnify her for
her losses.  Her foundations were now  laid in a rigid
organization, to depart from which would be to alter her
essential character. The variety, the manifold forms of
culture, the free development of differences to which the
new doctrines afforded free scope, were incompatible with
the vital principles of this Church. A clear, indisputable
legal foundation was thus for the first time created for the
Catholic Church, her authority, her laws, and their administration.  Canon law had hitherto developed itself historically, and there could not fail to be contradictions arising
zut of the Various periods at which its statutes had originated, and obscurities which gave rise to doubts.'It
was these weaknesses which had furnished the innovators
with so many points of attack; want of coherence and
consistency was the weakest point of a Church which expressly boasted of possessing these advantages. At Trent
she received a consistent ai-d elaborate code of laws, which
when possible, put an end to the contradictions or skilfully
concealed them, and thus the number of exposed points
was not only lessened, but a secure armour created to
defend them.
Neither were the reforms quite an empty name; it was
no small gain for Catholic countries that the advantages
gained by the Protestants were in some degree secured to
them also; seminaries were to be provided for the better
education of priests, and there was to be strict supervision to
ensure their better conduct; divine service was to be better
regulated, the sacraments administered, and edification provided for by means of preaching; but the chief point was,
and continued to be, the establishment of the unimpeachable legitimacy of the Papal Chair as the main pillar of the
newly-won uniformity.




CHAPTER gX'HE JESUITS AND THE INQUISITION.
Ignatius Loyola and the Society of Jesus.-Spanish Catholifsm..Loyola's Spiritual Knighthood, from 152I.-Organization of the
Order, from the time of its Authorisation, 1540. —Its Constitution,
Principles, Discipline, and Tactics.-The Inquisition.-The In..
structions of Cardinal Caraffa.-Censorship of the Press.
IGNATIUS LOYOLA AND THE SOCIETY OF JESUS.*
TXPERIENCE had shown that the old monastic orders
were no longer sufficient.  Catholics and Protestants
united in lamenting their decline. Some orders-the Augustinians, for example-had  become a source of apostasy;
others were no longer so efficient as before, at a time when
humanistic culture was required in the representatives of
the Church's cause; the Dominican order, part of whose
vocation it had been to enforce the Inquisition, had become
powerless; in the trial of Reuchlin they had done more
harm than good, and succeeding times had shown that they
were totally unable to prevent the spread of heresy.
About 1540, therefore, an idea began to be entertained
at Rome that a new order was needed; the plan was not to
abolish the old ones, but to found new ones which should
better answer the required ends. The most important of
them was the Society of Jesus. But in this case the moving
cause did not proceed from Rome.
Among the wars of Charles V. we must recur to the first
contest at Navarra, in i52x. It was on this occasion, in
*Historia Societatis Jesu, by Orlandini and other Members ol
the Order, I615-I7I5.  Maffeji de Vita et Moeibus Ign. Loyolae,
It85. Corpus Institutorum Soc. Jesu. Antwerp, 17o2. Institutum
Soc. Jesus. Prag, 1752. Kortiim, Entstehungsgeschichte des Jesuit.
eulortcns. 7843;




266    THE JESUITS AND THE INQUISITION.
defending Pamplona against the French, that Loyola re.
ceived the wound which was to cause the monkish tendency
to prevail over the chivalrous element in his nature.
A kind of Catholicism still prevailed in Spain which no
longer existed anywhere else. Its vigour may be traced to
the fact that during the whole of the Middle Ages it was
always in hostile contact with Islam, with the Mohammedan
infidels. The crusades here had never come to an end;
the perpetual contest with the Moors and Moriscos was a
national as well as religious enthusiasm; the ecclesia militans
had never laid down her arms, and thus she had retained
all those manly and chivalrous qualities which she had
elsewhere lost during the protracted peace. Abuses were
not wanting in the Church here; but they were partly
overlooked, and they were really less important. Face to
face with a common enemy, Christianity had not time to
fall into the outward formalism which disfigured it elsewhere.
The enthusiastic spirit of mediaeval Catholicism still existed
here; the whole nation was filled with zeal to convert the
heretics. Our previous retrospect has shown us how little
there was of it in the rest of the world.
As yet untainted by heresy, and suffering from no decline,
in Spain, Catholicism was as eager for conquest as it had
been in all the West in the eleventh and twelfth centuries.
It was from the nation possessing this temperament that the
founder of the order of the Jesuits sprang.
Ignatius Loyola (born I49I) was a Spanish knight, possessing the twofold tendencies which distinguish the knighthood of the Middle Ages. He was a gallant swordsman,
delighting in martial feats and romantic love adventures;
but he was at the same time animated by a glowing enthusiasm for the Church and her supremacy, even during the
early period of his life. These two tendencies were striving
together in his character, until the event took place which
threw him upon a bed of suffering.  No sooner was he
compelled to renounce his worldly knighthood, than he was
sure that he was called upon to found a new order of
spiritual knighthood, like that of which he had read in the
chivalrous romance, "Amadis." Entirely unaffected by the
Reformation, what he understood by this was a spiritual
brotherhood in the true mediaeval sense, which should
convert the heathen in the newly-discovered countries ot
the world.




IGNATIUS LOY3LA.                2 67
With all the zeal of a Spaniard Le decided to live to the
Catholic Church alone; he chastised his body with penances
and all kinds of privations, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem,
and, in order to complete his defective education, he visited
the university of Paris; it was among his comrades there
that he formed the first associations out of which the order
was afterwards formed. Among these was Jacob Lainez,;
he was Loyola's fellow-countryman, the organizing head
who was to stamp his impress upon the order. What
Loyola would have founded himself would'have been of a
dlifferent character; it would have been an enthusiastic fra.
ternity in the faith, ascetically cut off from all worldly affairs,
who would have spread the gospel in the New World. An
impulse to Christian conquest was Loyola's ruling idea.
He formed a little company of congenial spirits, whom
he had thoroughly examined and conscientiously selected;
but their efforts might have been called somewhat aimless,
and, however earnest, might, from their entire independence,
not have been wholly free from suspicion of heresy.
Then came the spread of the new doctrines, the mighty
progress of Protestantism.  No one who was heartily
attached to the old Church could doubt that there was
work for such an association, for the object now in hand
was not to make Christians of the aboriginal inhabitants of
Central America, but to reconquer the apostate members of
the Romish Church.
About I539, Loyola came with his fraternity to Rome.
IHe did not find favour in all circles; the old orders
regarded the new one with jealousy and mistrust; but
Pope Paul III. (I534-49) did not allow himself to be
misled, and in I540 gave the fraternity his confirmation,
thus constituting Loyoia's followers an order, which, on its
part, engaged " to obey in all things the reigning Pope-to
go into any country, to Turks, heathen, or heretics, or to
whomsoever he might send them, at once, unconditionally,
without question or reward."
It is from this time that the special history of the order
begins. During the next year Loyola was chosen the first'
general of the order, an office which he held until his death
(1541-56). He was succeeded by Lainez. He was less
enthusiastic than his predecessor, had a cooler head, and
was more reasonable; he was the man for diplomatic pro.
jcuts and complete and systeraatic organization.




208    THE JESUITS AND  THE INQUISITION.
ORGANIZATION OF THE ORrEL
The new order differed in several respects from any pre.
viously existing one, but it entirely corresponded to the new
era which had begun for the Romish Church. It has been
well said that every period of Catholic Christianity had a
special order which represented the prevailing spirit of the
age. To the age of chivalry, its poetry and art, the contemporary order of Benedictines corresponded, with its
soaring flights in the same realm, its intellectual culture, its
mighty influence over the aristocracy of the age, and its
ardour for all great ideas.
When heresy was budding in the thirteenth century, the
Papacy created the standing army of Mendicant Friars, who
were intended to influence the masses, and they succeeded
wonderfully in their object. The Jesuits, at the time of
absolute papal supremacy, furnished a chivalrous order,
prepared to render unconditional obedience to the commands of the Church, and with their strict organization
they completely distanced all predecessors and rivals.
The construction of the new order was based and carried
out on a monarchical-military system. The territories of
the Church were divided into provinces; at the head of
each of these was a provincial; over the provincials, and
chosen by them, the general, who commanded the soldiers
of Christ, and was entrusted with dictatorial power, limited
only by the opinions of three judges, assistants or admonitors. The general has no superior but the Pope, with
whom  he communicates directly; he appoints and dismisses all officials, issues orders as to the administration of
the order, and rules with undisputed sway. The absolute monarchy which was assigned to the Pope by the
Council of Trent, was conferred by him on the general of
the Jesuits.
Among the four vows of poverty, chastity, obedience.,
and subjection to the Pope, obedience was the soul of all.
To learn and practise this physically and mentally, up to the
point where, according to the Jesuit expression, a man
becomes " tanquam lignum et cadaver," was the ruling principle of the institution.
The recruits or novices were at once daily and hourly
subjected to this discipline of body and soul. "As," so
they teach, "among the heave ldy bodies the inner circle




ORGANIZATION OF THE ORDER.              269
follows the course of the outer circle by an eternal law, so
must the serving members be dependent on the wink of
their superior:''-" baculus, qui ubicunque et quacunqcue
in re velit eo uti, qui eum manu tenet, ei-inserviat"  Entire
renunciation of the will and judgment in relation to every.
thing commanded by the superior, blind obedience, uncomn
ditional subjection, constitute their ideal.
There was but one exception, but even in this there was
a reservation. It was expressly stated that there can be
no obligation " ad peccatum mortale vel veniale," to sinful
acts of greater or less importance, "except when enjoined
by the superior, in the name of Jesus Christ," "' vel in virtute
obedientiae,"-an elastic doctrine which may well be summed
up in the dictum that " the end justifies the means."
Of course, all the members of this order had to renounce
all ties of family, home, and country, and it was expressly
enjoined.  Loyola himself threw letters from  his family,
after long absence, into the fire unread, to show that he no
longer had any family, and his disciples were expected to
efface from their hearts the memory of parents, brothers,
and sisters, and whatever else they might have on earth:
dead to the world and to all personal affection, they
were to live to their Lord and Saviour alone, and to consider Him as the substitute for parents, brethren, and all
earthly things.
Of the vow of poverty it is said, in the " Summarium" of
the constitution of the order, that it must be maintained as
a "murus religionis."  No one shall have any property;
every one must be content with the meanest furniture and
fare, and, if necessity or command require it, he must be
ready to beg his bread from door to door (" ostiatim mendicare "). The external aspect of members of the order, their
speech and silence, gestures, gait, garb, and bearing shall
indicate the prescribed purity of soul.
In accordance with the " rules of modesty," the disciple
of Jesus was to bend his head slightly forward, to cast
down his eyes, to maintain a calm and kindly mien, to walk
deliberately and with dignity, to exhibit modesty and edifying unction in looks, words, and movernents; in short, in all
respects to maintain a priestly sanctity.
On all these and many other points, the new order only
laid greater stress on the precepts which were to be found
among the rules of other orders, though in the universal




270    THE JESUITS AND THE INQUISITION.
demoralisation of the monastic life they had fallen into
disuse. But it decidedly differed from all the others in the
manner in which it aimed at obtaining sway in every sphere
and every aspect of life.
Himself without home or country, and not holding the
doctrines of any political party, the disciple of Jesus renounced everything which might alienate him among varying nationalities, pursuing various political aims.  Then he
did not confine his labours to the pulpit and the confes.
sional; he gained an influence over the rising generation by
a systematic attention to education, which had been shame.
fully neglected by the other orders. He devoted himself to
education from the national schools up to the academic
chair, and by no means confined himself to the sphere of
theology.
This was a principle of immense importance.
The coarseness, ignorance, idleness, and low vices of the
old orders had brought them into disrepute. The members
of the new were moral and polished; they cultivated science
and learning; and as the Church was just then being renovated from above, and required to be more firmly rooted
among the people, they were specially adapted for instructors and educators within her borders.
It is a true saying, that "he who gains the youth, possesses the future;" and by devoting themselves to the
education of youth, the Jesuits secured a future to the
Church more surely than by any other scheme that could
have been devised. What the schoolmasters were for the
youth, the confessors were for those of riper years; what the
clerical teachers were for the common people, the spiritual
directors and confidants were for great lords and rulers-for
the Jesuits aspired to a place at the side of the great, and
at gaining the confidence of kings. It was not long before
they could boast of astonishing success. " How manifold,"
says the history of the society, " are the traces of our educational labours!  Our former pupils, when grown up,
accustom their children to the fear of God, and they often
rise into the highest offices and circles of society. The
priests educated by us often attain to the highest honours in
the Church; directors, bishops, counsellors, and popes are
found among them. Many are robed in the purple of the
cardinals, or hold places of command as senators, who not
long before were sitting on the benches in our schools."




RULES OF TIlE ORDER.                27 71
In the interests of these various labours in the Church and
the world, the Jesuit was permitted to throw off the clerical
garb, and to take part in political and diplomatic affairs, and
in business of a purely secular character.
The gifts and qualifications of all those who entered the
order were minutely studied, and they v-ere subjected to
training calculated to make them adepts in the use of their
special powers. In this respect, Loyola was the founder of
the order in the truest sense of the word; for, from the
moment when he founded his little society, he determined
to search the hearts and reins of men, and to trust no one
whom he had not, as he thought, thoroughly seen through.
This continued to be the principle of the order, and by his
successors it was carried out still more systematically and
imperiously t-han by himself. The words, acts, talents, and
performances of every member of the order were closely
watched. The provincial received reports of the students
from the superintendents of the colleges, and he communicated them to the general. The superintendents, again, had
their confidential novices, charged with the observation and
espionage of their colleagues.  An inimitable system of
espionage was established, in the fine meshes of which
everything worth knowing was caught, and the conduct and
progress of every individual, from the lowest upward, was
carefully noted down.
In the culture of science and learning, special regard was
had to the objects prescribed to the order at home and
abroad.
Profane learning was cultivated only as a weapon against
the heresy of modern culture, and the selection of subjects,
and the extent to which they were pursued, was therefore
determined on polemical grounds. Philological and mathematical studies, dialectics and rhetoric, were diligently pur.
sued; but everything that would not serve the order was
heg!ected. Greek was strikingly neglected compared with
Latin, because it was not of much use in polemics, and the
spirit of the ancient Hellenes was not congenial to the spirit
of the order. The main point aimed at in all their studies
was dexterity in argument. Disputation and dialectic fencing
were therefore much practised, and they were early schooled
in the methods of these arts.
History was written from their own point of view, philo.
sophy cultivated in the spirit of ancient scholasticism; thus,




272    THE JESUITS AND THE INQUISITION.
no true representation of history, nor independent research
into the nature of things, was possible. In both fields,
therefore, the order has been quite unproductive. It has
produced good Latin scholars, skilful translators and grammarians. great dialecticians and eminent orators; but beyond
this it has not attained distinction.
At a period when all the other orders were idle or asleep,
the services of such an one as this, which pressed talent,
learning, and fanaticism into its service, to the greatest possible extent, and under a thousand forms, were an incalculable assistance to the papal policy. It may well be
said that it was by means of this order that the labours of
the Council of Trent first acquired any historical importance.
But for everything beyond the sphere of this policy, the
order was a tremendous danger. To oppose to the Jesuit
doctrine of the right of the masses arbitrarily to choose this
or that form of government, one to-day, another to-morrow,
there was, speaking generally, no law in the secular state of
unconditional validity; that is, a secular state no longer
had any existence. And this doctrine was jealously defended by an order whose members were independent of
civic associations, were not permitted to have either family
or country, and whose one article of morality was blind
obedience to their superiors. In every State of Europe they
attacked now this form of government, and now that. In
Holland and France they incited the people against the
existing order of things just as it suited their purpose; and
the manifold forms under which they presented themselves,
rendered them incomprehensible to their adversaries.
There was a contradiction in this to the Roman Catholic
world itself. The doctrine of the Council of Trent, of the
absolute authority of the Pope, of which the Jesuits were
the most zealous representatives, imposed upon Catholicism
itself a law of immobility, which had never before been
practically acted upon. Thus the Jesuits were the mortal
enemies of whatever tendencies to freedom and progress
still existed in the Roman Catholic Church. There was
therefore early a party of very faithful Roman Catholics,
not like the illuminati of the eighteenth century, which was
opposed to them.
Besides, the position taken up by the Jesuits with regard to
the secular power threatened the existence not only of the
Protestant States, but of the Catholic States also. The here




THE INQUISITION.                 z73
tical doctrine that the State was something accidental, and its
form variable, that the Church as the supreme power alone
was eternal, called forth opposition from the most zealous
Catholic governments; and when, in the eighteenth century,
this idea began to make way, and its roots were met with
everywhere among the order of Jesuits, the order fell a sacrifice, not to the Church, but to the modern idea of the State.
THE INQUISITION, FROM 1542.
During the same year in which the order of Jesuits received the Pope's confirmation, the Spanish Inquisition was
introduced into Italy, and Cardinal Caraffa was commissioned with the establishment of the institution.  In the instructions of 1542, we have an authentic document relating
to the principles on which the Inquisition was to proceed
to extirpate heresy, first in Italy, and then in the world in
general. x. The Inquisition was not to delay, but to act
with the greatest rigour on the least suspicion. 2. To have
no respect either to princes or prelates, however high their
rank may be. 3. Rather to be especially strict with those
who screen themselves under the protection of a ruler.
4. In dealing with heretics, and especially Calvinists, it is
not to degrade itself by any kind of false toleration.*
The new Inquisition acted on these principles with fearful
severity. By dint of dungeons and stakes, persecution and
exile, in the course of a few years there was no more
heresy in Italy, and then this pattern institution was to be
established in the other States. But everywhere it met with
the greatest opposition, and they could not succeed in intro.
ducing it even into purely Catholic countries.
But wherever Caraffa's idea was carried out, and a union
formed between the temporal and ecclesiastical powers, by
which the former lent all its aid to carry out the mandates
of the Church, and in return the Church branded as heresy
and exterminated everything that was displeasing to the
State, the State itself received a wound which was not
healed for centuries.
Spain, above all other countries, has had experience of
this, for there the Inquisition has destroyed the very roots
of political liberty, and the State has sacrificed,everything
* Ranke.
Is




274    IiM Jh.SUITS AND THE INQUISIT10N.
for the sake of maintaining the unity of the faith in its most
rigid form; the fraternal bond between temporal and spiritual
despotism pursued its ends with great success: but it was not
heresy only which disappeared-the life of the nation, the
spir.: of the people was fatally crushed, and this fact, which no
one denies, is chiefly insisted on by Spaniards themselves.*
This explains the prompt resistance to it in countries
where the national spirit was strong, as in France and
Germany; it explains the fact that the attempt to introduce the Inquisition into the Netherlands was one of the
sparks that ignited the Revolt.
One part of the apparatus of the Inquisition was the
censorship of the press and book-police.
Before the invention of printing it was not, of course,
very difficult to keep a watch on dangerous works; it is
equally obvious that now, when there came to be a widelyextended literature, the comfortable old orders would be
totally unable to keep up the previous book-police. Nowadays any such censorship would appear totally impracticable. The attempt was made by one of the greatest men
of the age when he had reached the summit of his power,
and ruled from the Ebro to the Niemen; and how absurd it
proved to be I
But at that time, when intellectual activity was not to be
compared with that of our days, when the power of the See
of Rome had been reorganized, when its influence was
completely dominant in the southern monarchies, and extended northwards to a considerable distance, and when
defection from Roume was far less general, the case was
different. We have some striking examples of the power of
the book-police.  Hundreds of thousands of copies of the
little work called "Of the Benefit of Christ's Death," had
been circulated, which was an attempt to popularise the
Lutheran doctrine of justification by faith in Italy, and it
had been translated into many languages; but at the time
of which we speak it mas so utterly expunged from literature
by the modern censorship that when Ranke wrote his History
of the Popes, in I834, he could say that no trace of the
work existed. During the course of the last few years a
copy was found; and, not long after'this was made known,
two more came to light, and not only have thousands o'
* Written about I859.-rx.




CENSORSHIP OF THE PRESS.             275
copies been published again, but the English Bible Society
is taking steps to circulate it in Italy again.*
The influence of the Inq'liisition on the sale of books was
therefore not without ir portance.  This is proved by
another example  Paolo Sarpi, a Venetian monk, who,
although a zealous Catholic, held the views of Reform puf
forth at Constance and I Iasle —namely, a Papacy limited by
bishops and councils, and a thorough reform of the Church,
both head and members-undertook a history of the Council
of Trent, in order to show how the original objects for
which it had been convened, the abolition of abuses, purification of doctrine, and improvement of the constitution of
the Church, had been frustrated, and the supremacy of the
Pole over Church and State only confirmed.
The work appeared in the deepest secrecy, and under a
feigned name, but its authorship was at once surmised; and
it was not thought enough to bring out an answer, which
Pallavicini was ordered to write — the book was inserted in
the Index, and the author persecuted; and from the dangers
Sarpi passed through, we may learn the fate that awaited
an eminent author who, from within the Church, ventured to
oppose the restoration of the papal supremacy.
An Index in my possession shows how systematically the
heretical literature of that day was attacked. The literary
productions of fifteen years are comprised within five sheets,
and everything of importance that had appeared in theology, philosophy, history, antiquarian researches, and natural
history, is condemned. Thus almost all literature was forbidden, with the exception of that which had arisen in the
Roman Catholic Church or among her orders.
Since Rome now had the power to carry out this censor.
ship of the press with the help of Philip II. and the
German Hapsburgs, a large portion of Europe was as good
as closed against all literary progress.
~ SQy. Tract Society.-2



PART V.
PH1 II H. IN SPAIN, AND THE REVOLT IN THE
NETHERLANDS.
CHAPTER XXI.
SPAIN UNDER CHARLES V. AND PHILIP IT.
The Ecclesiastical-political Plans of Philip, I565-98. -The Absoo
lute Monarchy in Spain under Charles V.-Philip's Inheritance.
- His Character. - Amalgamation of Spiritual and Temporal
Despotism in Spain,*
SPAIN UNDER CHARLnES V. AND PHILIP II.
T HE  heir of Charles V. in Spain, Burgundy, Italy, and
the New World was also the inheritor of his policy.
In the second half of the sixteenth century, Philip II. once
more undertook to accomplish what had failed in the first
half, and on still more rigid principles and with less divided
forces than his father had either attempted or had had in
his power.
He undertook to enforce, without limit and unconditionally, the temporal and spiritual despotism at which the
restored papal power was aiming with all its might. It was
* See, besides the works already cited in reference to Charles V.,
Colleccion de Documentos'Ineditos. Madrid, I842. Maldonado,
Hist. de las Comunidades de Castilla. Madrid, I840.  Sepulvedae,
Hist. Philippi II., I556-64. Herrera, IIist. del Rey Philippe II., I6I3.
3 vols. Ranke, Fiirsten und v6lker Von Sud. Europa. Vol. I. Havemann, Darstellungen aus der Span. Gesclhichte. I850. Prescott, The
Reign of Philip II. 2 vols. London, I858. Salvador Bermudes de
Castro, Antonio Perez, I842.  Relations des Ambassadeurs de
Venise. Paris, I838. 2 vols.  Alberi Relazioni degli Ambasciatord
Veneti. Vols. L —IXL    855.




THE SPANISH MONARCHY.               277
the most daring project of the age, to enforce in every part
of the empire the absolute monarchy which existed in Spain,
in spite of national and religious insurrections, and, so far
as the empire of this prince and his spiritual allies extended,
in alliance with them to raise the Church in its restored
unity to supreme power. No other European prince personally devoted himself to this cause and expended his every
effort upon it as Philip did; and the question whether or
not he would succeed, kept nearly half a century-for nearly
over this period did his reign extend-in anxious sus
pense.,
It was not only over his own immediate territoriesSpain, Italy, and the Netherlands-that his policy ext-?..-ad,
but over the whole of western Europe.  The boldest
attempt to restore the supremacy of the ancient Church in
England was supported by him, and it was just the same
in France, where, after the extinction of the line of Valois,
the idea arose of founding another legitimate monarchy,
and then-the still bolder one of making the kingdom an
appanage of Spain.
But the result brought disgrace upon this magnificent
scheme. Philip suffered defeat after defeat. In Spain the
flower of the country perished by the Inquisition, and under
the rule of the priests; in the Netherlands there was a
great revolt, which ended in the defection and dismemberment of the provinces; in England, after a colossal
expenditure of strength, he could not succeed in subduing
the power of Queen Elizabeth; his attempt to make France
a Spanish province was utterly frustrated by Henry IV.; and
the last act of his life was that Peace of Vervins, in which
he was compelled to acknowledge the superiority of the
French power.
It may be supposed that these defeats could not take
place without fearful throes. A State staked on such a venture could not, if it failed, but be involved in the general
ruin. This most comprehensive attempt to enforcz at once
the form of the Spanish Government and the restoration of
the Roman Church failed everywhere with one exception,
and it has made the only country where it succeeded per.
petually wretched.
When King Charles V. began to reign in Spain, the
country was by no means the compactly united territory
that it afterwards, politically, though not nationally, be.




278  SPAIN UNDER CHARLES V. AND PHILIP AI.
came; for the last half century has shown that the ancient
differences of race are not entirely obliterated. At that
time it was still fresh in recollection that there had been a
kingdom of Aragon and akingdom of Castile, and that they
had maintained an independent existence side by side.
Then there was the countless multitude of provincial rights
and privileges, in which no country speaking a Romanic
language was so rich as Spain: the old national opposition
in the south, where the Moors had long held sway, and
which had given to the inhabitants an oriental hue, while in
the north they were unmixed ancient Basque and Iberian.
Charles's idea was here especially to establish a certain
uniformity; and if he expected anywhere to found a wellconsolidated domestic power for his family, it was in Spain,
where only he looked to the establishment of a lasting
monarchical power, while to Germany and the Netherlands
he left their own form of government.
There was no lack of opposition. Among all the Spanish
territories, none possessed so many valuable privileges as
the kingdom of Aragon. It had the most liberal mediaeval
constitution, in which the idea of a contract between the
governors and the governed, of the right of resistance to
arbitrary power, was more sharply defined than in any
other. Freedom there was not a mere antiquated feudal
privilege, which had still a phantom-like existence in the
brains of a few noble families. No; it still lived in the
nation, and was a blessing still prized above everything in
communities and flourishing cities. Valencia, Saragossa,
and Barcelona had not forgotten their proud, peculiar privileges, and their chivalrous inhabitants knew how to
maintain them.
This gave rise to the conflict in 152o and x521, in which
Charles proved victorious.
Charles had from the first assumed absolute power.
When he was involved in the struggle with France, the
opportunity seemed to be come to rise up in arms against
him. Democratic insurrections broke out; but Charles was
in a position to defend himself successfully on both sides:
opposition was put down, and the provinces humbled. Conflicting local interests began to clash, and thus increased
their helplessness, as opposed to the compact power of
the Crown.
Ancient privileges and liberties were compressed within




PHILIP'S INHERITAl ICE.              2 7 
the narrowest limits-the royal supremacy enforced to the
utmost. The decrees of the conqueror of Villalar were to
be accepted as the legal foundation of a new administra.
tion; and in the Inquisition Charles had already discovered
a weapon for quelling political opposition.
In the autumn of 1555 Charles gave over this thoroughly
consolidated power to his son Philip, into whose hands
the most splendid empire in the world now came-Spain
and the American colonies, Milan and both the Sicilies, the
Netherlands and Burgundy, and, besides all this, the here,
ditary family alliance of the German and Spanish Hapsburg interests. On the whole, the empire was given over to
Philip in a flourishing condition.
Spain was still a rising power, and- if it had lost something of the splendour of the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, compared with what it is at present, it was a truly
imposing State.
We have a brilliant picture of the state of the Netherlands from both Philip's foes and friends.  It was only
Italy that showed signs of approaching decay. It had
begun to suffe under an administration which rather preyed
upon the country than ruled it; it was a government which
it is no exag~ tration to say strongly resembled the oriental
pashalics.
The colonies were also suffering under this system. On
its entry into the New World, Spain settled the principles
of its colonisation; conquest and military rule, provision
for distinguished families, and reckless conversion of the
aborigines-these were the leading ideas. The fact that a
colony in order to be profitable must prosper, and that in
order to prosper it must have a rational and conscientious
government, that in a foreign country a political and social
life best suited to it must be fostered, was utterly ignored in
this policy. Brutal military government, grasping at the
country's riches, absence of all law and justice for the
inhabitants, and of any training of them to self-dependence,
division of power between priests and soldiers-all these
abuses clung to this colonisation for centuries. The profit
of them was therefore for a long time not in proportion to
their wealth, for a great part of the proceeds was squandered
in bad government. The industries of the Netherlands
alone brought illto the treasury four times as much as the
gold andi silver mines of Mexico and Peru.




80o  SPAIN UNDER CHARLES V. AND PHILIP IL
Besides, all these countries possessed unusually rich
resources for a great policy.
Spain had the best army and the most skilful generals of
the age. Her military school was proverbial in the sixteent-h century. The chivalrous Spaniard was especially
adapted to a military life, not only because he was endowed
with the natural gifts of courage and taste for aggressive
warfare, but in the wars which had been waged for centuries
he had been inured to danger, deprivation, and difficulty.
The most prominent names among the generals of the
sixteenth century, Alba, Don Juan, Requesens, Spinola, all
belong to Spanish tradition. Spain had also a fleet such as
no other nation possessed; she had the finest harbours and
seaports, vast colonial possessions of inexhaustible wealth,
while all the States which were soon to be her rivals and
afterwards her adversaries were still only in the infancy of
their power; in short, Spain could throw a weight into the
scale for the policy of her ruler which was without example
in that age.
It is one of the most instructive spectacles of history to
watch how this immense power was reduced to beggary in
the course of one long life; to see how the monarch who
had begun life on a more magnificent scale than any other,
was in his latter days destitute even of the means for his
personal support, and was compelled to have a collection
made from house to house in the impoverished country to
keep him from starvation. This government in the colonies
and at home, the enormous wars which ceased only with
his life, and which were all unsuccessful-desperate undertakings, which involved the country in ruin-gave the final
blow, but the foundations of this power were undermined
when all this took place.
Philip'II. was a singular character. He possessed the
same phlegmatic repose and caution, the fatalistic passivity
as his father, but he was wanting in the counterpoise which
Charles had in the restless mental activity and great energy
of will that were peculiar to his rather uncommon character.
Philip had more than his father of the dull heavy Spanish
blood which tended to melancholy or extraordinary lethargy
and apathy.
In talent Philip was by no means equal to his father.
He had no grasp of mind, but was one of those characters
who grow up with one idea, to which they adhere as an




PHILIP II.                  281
article of faith with extraordinary constancy, and are proof
against everything which might shake them in it; neither
are they capable of learning anythipng from the most fearful
chastisements or the most striking lessor4 of destiny.
It was this that gave rise to his despotic tendencies, his
obstinate intolerance of any contradiction, to say nothing
of opposition; this was also fostered by the consciousness
of his great power, and still more so by a character unnerved by sensual excesses. His will had lost its equilibrium;
he obstinately held fast to his one idea, but was languid
and undecided in action; often when it was necessary to
act, he remained passive, and when he should have given
way, exhibited an unhappy obstinacy.
Still he was not idle, but his energies were spent in the
busy meddling of a common-place character who has but a
very imperfect idea of the human organism. Philip II.
wrote, administered, gave orders, day by day, and from one
year's end to another; if the regularity with which he spent
a great part of his life at the desk can be called industry, he
must be considered one of the most industrious and conscientious of rulers.
But the cabinet government conducted by all this writing
was almost an entire stranger to the springs of real life.
Everything was entered and arranged under separate heads;
almost every person of any importance among his subjects
had a division to himself in the enormous lists; the King
boasted of an immense personal acquaintance, which was
kept up by a well-organized system of espionage. Philip's
government went on like clockwork with untiring regularity
for forty years.
And the entire administration of the Spanish Government
threatened to become a.s monotonous, spiritless, and suspiciously one-sided as the personal doings of the ruler;
absolute monarchy was exalted to be the religion of the
State, and no amelioration in practice was to be looked for.
The impression that this prince always produced was as
little favourable as possible. We have concurrent testimony
to this from the time when his father, who had already
conceived the idea of abdicating in his favour, introduced
him to the Northern provinces during his first journey in
1548; it is stated in a diplomatic report that "he htad
found but little favour with the Italians, was quite repulsive
to the Flemings, and hateful to the Germans."




282  SPAIN UNDER CHARLES V. AND PHILIP II.
His behaviour then and afterwards was a mixture oi shy
ness and haughtiness which repelled every one; he was so
timid and embarrassed that he hardly dared to raise his
eyes, but at the same time he exhibited the Spanish pride,
and treated every one with a repulsive coldness and offensive
severity which his father, in spite of all his diplomatic coldness, had never shown. Charles was to the last beloved in
Flanders, so lively was the impression of his popularity in
his best days; but Philip never won the hearts of the
people, and was at last regarded with hatred and disgust.
In conversation he was generally blunt, gloomy, and concise;
he seldom granted any requests, and his refusals were harsh
and arrogant; in short, there was not a single amiable or
winning trait in his character.
Such a personage as absolute monarch of a great empire,
not supported by great statesmen, nor guided by wise and
experienced advisers, suspicious of every one, relying upon
himself alone, and yet from his limited abilities' quite incompetent to his task, could not fail to give rise to great
anxiety.
Philip II. began his government with two simple ideas,
with which his whole soul was filled; one was to enforce
the absolutism which he had inherited in Spain throughout
the whole empire, and then unconditionally to restore the
undivided sway of the Catholic Church.
He was not deterred from this project by his father's ill
success; on the contrary, it rather incited him to attempt it
anew, with operations on a wider scale, and with more utter
disregard of circumstances. His father was fond of proclaiming himself a native of Flanders, and spared the sensitiveness of the inhabitants with respect to liberty, as he did
that of the Germans; but it was Philip's intention to weld
everything into Spanish form, and to crush mercilessly all
that would not yield. He felt and gave himself out to be
exclusively a Spaniard, and especially a Castilian; Aragon
he looked upon almost as a conquered country, and all the
other provinces as bound to render silent obedience. In
Spain itself his father had achieved a good deal before him;
the power of the Cortes was gone, the liberties of the cities
since the last unsuccessful insurrection greatly lessened;
some of the nobles were so impoverished as to be in the
service of the Crown; there was a numerous aristocracy, but
few of its members were wealthy enough to be independent




PHILIP II.                  283
of the Crown; for those who disdained this position there
was, according to Alba's view, no resource but emigration.
In no other empire in the world was the alliance between spiritual and temporal despotism so consistently
carried out as it was in Spainl, and nowhere else was tne
Inquisition so vigorously used as a fearful weapon in the
hands of both.
Things had gone so far in Spain that whenever the
Crown was alarmed by anyopposition, the spiritual tribunal
was used as an unfailing lever. The last privileges of the
States that were opposed to the despotism  of the Crown
were encumbered and destroyed by the Inquisition. Antonio
Perez, formerly a favourite of the King, afterwards the
victim of all sorts of intrigues at court, had taken refuge in
Aragon, which with its great privileges and powerful Cortes
was a sort of free State in the absolute monarchy, and he
had there appealed to the protection of the law, according
to which he could only be tried by his equals. The Inquisition was then called in and lent its aid, not only against
Perez, but against the inconvenient liberties of the Aragonians, which were put an end to by the king's priests and
soldiers.
In return for this, the Church in Spain was more favoured
than in any other country in the world. It was not that
the spiritual power held sway over the Government-that is,
over the will of the ruler; for Philip II. was the despot
still more than the bigoted Catholic. When Paul IV.
sided with his enemies, he did not disdain to send his
Spaniards into the States of the Church, and to contend
earnestly for his rights at the Council of Trent.  But the
Church had enormous dotations, a multitude of ecclesiastical institutions, and a power over men's consciences, their
lives and persons, such as was equalled nowhere else.
The country possessed 58 archbishoprics, 684 bishoprics,
11,400 monasteries, 23,000 brotherhoods, 46,ooo monks,
13,8oo00 nuns, 312,o00 secular priests, and more than
400,00o ecclesiastics, while there were 8o,00oo civil servants,
and 367,000 other officials.
These figures describe a State composed of spiritual and
temporal officials, in which society appears to exist for them,
not they for society. They also indicate an enormous
amount of property held in mortmain, and fatal consequences to the nation from clerical idleness. Even in




284  SPAIN UNDER CHARLES V. AND PHILIP II.
clerical circles the danger of this unnatural state of things
was not altogether ignored. In the time of Philip III. the
primate of the Spanish Church advised the Crown not to
go on founding monasteries. There was a fear that they
would be smothered in their own riches.
The result of this-disproportion was that prosperity among
the people, to say nothing of intellectual life, was checked.
The accumulation of landed property in mortmain made
the existence of a prosperous race of agriculturists impossible. This was the fatal result of this ecclesiastical
government in a domestic point of view. The Inquisition
produced the same effect upon foreign relations. Spain,
where trade and commerce formerly flourished, was as
much shut up from all foreign intercourse as an inhospitable
desert island. It went so far, that Spain was compelled to
export one of her most important products to be manufacturid abroad, because all spirit of enterprise was wanting
at home.  Commerce languished  so completely under
Philip II. that most of the harbours were empty, the markets unfrequented, there was no commercial enterprise,
and beggary frightfully increased. That this was the consequence of making the Government the instrument of
ecclesiastical despotism, the Spaniards themselves have
placed beyond doubt by the publication during the last
ffty years of rrefragable evidence and. wcoavcing date&




?IH  REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.*e
History, Government, Country, and People of the Seventeen Provinces
before Philip II.-Philip's Policy in the Netherlands after November, I555. -The Regency and the Aristocracy: Orange,
Egmont, Margaret of Parma, Bishop Perrenot (Granvella).-The
Spanish Troops.-The Increase of Bishoprics.-The Inquisition
in the Netherlands.-Tactics of Charles V.-The Renewal of the
Edict of 550. —Granvella's Removal, 1564.-Egmont's Journey
and the Compromise, January, I565.-Spring of I566. —The
Beggars' League.-The Field-preaching and Attack upon Images,
April to August, I566.-Defeat of the Volunteer Army of the
Beggars at Anstruveel, March, 1567.-The Departure of William
of Orange from the Netherlands, April, I567.
HISTORY, GOVERNMENT, COUNTRY, AND  PEOPLE OF THE
SEVENTEEN PROVINCES BEFORE THE TIME OF PHILIP II.
HJ'HE first revolt against this system was not to occur in
- Spain, but in the Netherlands, or Burgundy.
There were seventeen provinces which Charles V. had
left to his son, and which had become united in the following manner:The French Crown departed from  its principle of not
conlerring large duchies on princes of the royal family,
*Wagenaar, Vaderlandsche Historie. C. Meteeren, Niederliind
ilistorien, I6I2. Strada de Bello Belgico, I640. Hoofts, Nederlandsche Historien, I703. Van der Vynct, Hist. des Troubles des
Pays-Bas. Brux., 1824. Van Kampen, Geschichte der Niederlanden,
I83I. J. L. AMotley, Revolt of the Netherlands. Papiers d'etat du
Card. Granvella. Paris, 1842.  Groen van Prinsterer, Correspond.
Indtlite, 1835. Gachard, Corresp. de Philippe II. The same, Corresp.
du Duc d'Albe, sur l'Invasion de Louis de Nassau, I850. The same,
Corresp. de Phil. II. et de Marguerite d'Autriche. The same, Corresp.
de Guillaume le Taciturne, I850.  Klose, Wilhelm  von Oranien,
Herausgegeben von Wuttke. Holzwarth, der Abfall der Niederlande,
i867. Roch, Untersuchungen iiber den Abfall der Niederlande. I860o




286   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
when King John gave Burgundy to his son, Philip the
Bold, and thus himself renewed the contest between the
high aristocracy and the Crown. King John's posterity*
soon forgot that the blood of the Capets flowed in their
veins, and felt themselves to be rather Dukes of Burgundy
than vassals of the King of France; and this was coincident
with the time when the kingdom was weak and with the
wars with England.
Out of this Duchy of Burgundy there gradually grew, by
dint of purchase, conquest, inheritance, and not seldom
legacy-hunting, combined with force, a territory which, in
comparison with its original nucleus, might be pronounced
splendid. Philip the Bold acquired Flanders, Artois, and
the free Earldom by marriage; Ph:lip the Good, Nassau
by exchange (1428), by inheritance, Brabant and Limburg
(I430), by a sort of compulsory exchange with Jacoba of
Bavaria, Remagen, Holland, Seeland, and West Friesland
(I433), and Luxemburg by exchange (1443). Charles V.
acquired  Friesland, Ober-yssel, Utrecht, Gelders, and
Zutphen. It was thus that this remarkable empire was
formed. It had begun with a portion of the old principality
of Burgundy, and extended itself by means of Luxemburg
to the frontier of Lorraine. The'whole of the present
Belgium belonged to it, part of the Flanders and Artois of
our times, and the present kingdom of Holland.
It was Charles V. who first possessed this territory in its
entirety, and at the Diet of Augsburg, in 1548, he carried
the Pragmatic Sanction, whereby it was declared to be a
compact imperial territory, was to have its own list and
special privileges in the Diet, but was to be free from the
obligations of membership of the empire. It was the duty
of the empire to protect it from attack; but it had no right
of jurisdiction, nor right to hold conventions, nor to den
mnand obedience on things usually obligatory on imperial
territories.
On the whole, Charles's government in these seventeen
provinces was skilful and moderate; but on' one point he
was inexorable; this was the question of the ancient faith.
He took every means in his power to avert the spread of
* Genealogy of the House of Burgundy: John, King of France;
his son, Philip the Bold, I363-I404; his son, John the Good,
I419; his son, Philip the Good, 1467; his son, Charles the Bold,
1477.




THE SEVENTEEN PROVINCES.               287
the new doctrines, and did not shrink from the most cruel
and sanguinary measures if he could but maintain the
ancient Church intact.  Otherwise he ma Aaged tolerably
well withi the complicated laws of the country. Of course
the republican atmosphere did not suit the Spanish autocrat, and, so far as he could do so without exciting too much
notice, he was fond of interfering with the multitudinous
local, civic, corporative, and provincial privileges; but he
showed his political tact in generally trying to obtain his
ends by circuitous means.  Thus, though not without a
struggle, he succeeded in obtaining more influence over the
appointment of Government officials, the legal administration and taxation of the wealthy provinces, than any prince
of Burgundy had exercised before.  That he did act in
his difficult position with tact and success is proved by the
affection with which he was regarded.  On the last day of
his government, the 25th of October, I555, when, as a
gouty old man leaning upon his crutches, he announced
his abdication at Brussels, and presented his son as his
successor, the universal emotion bore  witness to  his
popularity.'The Netherlanders were proud to call him their countryman, and it pleased him to hear it. He really had a certain
personal preference for this part of his dominions, and had
made himself so much at home there that he was looked
upon as the hereditary ruler.
The country was unusually rich in resources. It contained within itself abundant sources of prosperity, and the
products and modes of life of the different parts were very
various. Flanders, Hennegau, Artois, and Namur were
rich corn-bearing districts, whose harvests could support
the whole empire; at Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, Brussels,
and other cities, trade flourished as it did nowhere else in
Europe; the arts of weaving, cloth-making, dyeing, and
other branchet; of industry, were carried to great perfection.
Antwerp was a cosmopolitan city, rivalled by no ether in
the world; at the same time a great portion of the country
was washed by the sea, which was the great highway between
north and south, and, as Guicciardini says, it was "the
great harbour and emporium for the trade of the European
world."
All the northern part of the country was a maritime
district, partly gained fron the sea by avtificia. neans; part




288   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
of it had more sea-coast than habitable land, and it was
inhabited by a hardy and enduring race of o!d Frisian
blood, who, with admirable perseverance, had made a
home for themselves, in spite of perpetual conflict with wind
and wave.  These characteristics remain to the present
day. The Dutch have still been draining lakes and turning
them into fruitful soil; it is the ancient Frisian patience,
the Germanic toughness, which has never belied itself even
under the most difficult circumstances. From Rotterdam
to the most northerly part of the coast of Friesland, there
was a number of places, larger and smaller, which had
acquired importance as natural harbours. The habit of
living on the sea, of familiarity with its perils, the taste for
a seafaring life and for making voyages of discovery, and
for emigration-all this existed in embryo before the fishing
villages had become great harbours and centres of commerce.
The mental condition of the people was not behind their
outward prosperity. It is expressly stated in histories of
the country that, notwithstanding its prosaic devotion to
trade and commerce, learning, the arts, and earnest endeavours after improvement, were equally cherished; that,
besides the universities, there were everywhere excellent
schools, which had more thoroughly imbibed the modern
humanistic spirit than any others, and that culture extended
even among the people. {' There was no country," says a
contemporary historian, "where learning and culture prevailed so widely as among us; even in the Frisian fishermen's huts you might find people who could not only read
and write, but discussed scriptural interpretations as if they
were scholars." Even if this is an exaggeration, it is well
known that amidst their material prosperity a real desire for
mental culture had spread among the lowest classes of the
people.  Friends and  foes bear witness that in these
countries th.' conditions of material and mental prosperity
were combined to a rare extent.
The seventeen provinces differed from each other both in
their constitutions and mode of life.
In Flanders, Brabant, and Hennegau there was a landed
nobility, whose estates were measured by the square mile,
and many of them were like German princes. In the cities,
there was a proud and independent class of citizens, who,
like the inhabitants of Ghent not only pursued their




THE SEVENTEEN PROVINCES.             2 89
peaceful crafts, but when necessary could also wage war,
the citizens of Ghent had especially signalised themselves
in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and had carried
on a successful contest with the nobility. The ancient
Frisian district was in the north. The Frisians are the only
German race which has developed a democracy in which
nobles and royalty found no place; the mode of life of this
fishing and seafaring people was not adapted to the development of an aristocracy of any kind.
Thus there were wide differences, social and political,
throughout the country. The seaport towns of the north
were more powerful than the German Hanse Towns; there
were neither great- lords nor a powerful Church, and both
in town and country the pride of democratic independence
and self-government prevailed; there were no elements
likely to develope into a monarchical form of government.
Each of the seventeen provinces had its own constitution; the character of each was determined by the preponderance of classes among the people: in Flanders and Brabant
it was more aristocratic, in the north democratic, but in no
case monarchical; it was a motley confusion of forms of
every kind with provincial, civic, and local privileges, and
every gradation between feudalism and democracy, but the
prevailing character was a motley'conglomerate of small
republics, not unlike that of ancient Switzerland, merely
bound together by a monarchy. In some parts of the
north that constitution of the civic aristocracies had begun
to develope itself which afterwards became the prevailing
one in Holland.
The government of a world so constituted was both easy
and difficult; easy, because the variety of rights and
interests rendered any united resistance very difficult. Unless these distinct elements united under some one banner,
great commotions would be sure to take place which would
be fatal to all particular interests; the most convenient
policy was to rule all by means of their divisions. It was
difficult, because it was necessary, for a policy which aimed
not only at ruling, but at reaping advantage from the
country, to keep the people in good humour by allowing
them  their privileges, and consulting their feelings and
prejudices; for this motley community was entirely one in
deeply-rooted devotion to the ancient rights which were the
palladium of their liberties, and to which they regarded all
I9




z90   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHF RLANDS.
attempts at levelling and reducing them to uniformity as
fatal.
They would not have sold them to a prince of their own
lineage, far less for the sake of a unity which the will of a
despotic foreigner would have imposed upon them.
On the whole, Charles V. formed a just estimate of these
forces; he contrived never to excite any general opposition;
he now and then ventured on a little despotic interference,
but he renounced from the first the idea of establishing any
uniform system of administration.
POLICY OF PHILIP II. IN THE NETHERLANDS, FROM
NOVEMBER, I555.-THE REGENCY AND THE ARISTOCRACY.
It was under these circumstances that Philip entered oni
his Burgundian  inheritance.  His first appearance in
the country had not made a favourable impression. When
he was introduced, in October, 1555, his stiff and gloomy
aspect, his awkward and ungenial Spanish manners, had
produced an unpleasant effect, and it was very unpromising
that when the States freely laid their grievances before
him, he rose from the throne with unconcealed displeasure
and angrily left the hall. In proportion as Charles had
been beloved for his affability, his son was disliked for his
Xepelling coldness. But these were only impressions or
gloomy presentiments which might pass away; they did not
as yet contain any germ of revolt.
Misunderstandings indeed could not be prevented from
the first, but they were caused by the young monarch's
practical measures rather than by the impression he produced.
The King could not govern the country himself, and had
therefore to choose a 6Stadtholder, who should govern in
his name.
Had the opinion of the country been consulted, especially
that of the spokesmen of the numerous aristocracy, the
answer would have been unanimous that one from among
themselves should be chosen, whose name, wealth, and
influence rendered him suitable for the office of regent.
There was no lack of candidates; there were Count
Egmont, and William of Orange, and a number of eminent
and influentml men, who considered themselves princes oi




THE REGENCY.                  291
the German empire, and to whom  it did not appeal
audacious to aspire to the office.
Philip had well considered the question, for this wish had
been so plainly expressed to him that he could not fail to
understand it, but he was determined not to accede to it.
He distrusted this aristocracy and feared its power.  He
Lad already had reports sent him concerning the leaders
among the nobles, and observations of this sort are found
about Egmont: " Nutat in religione: whatever he may say
tof lay, he will act contrary to it to-morrow: this is the
gentleman of whom we hear the most at present, and whom
the others put forward to say things that they have not
courage to say themselves."  Of William: "He goes to
work with more finesse, and is altogether in better credit
than the other; if he could be gained over, the others might
be got into ofr power."
Both these men were therefore early marked in the black
book as suspicious, yet their previous conduct had given no
cause for it. On the contrary, the position of both had been
such that they might be regarded as the King's most zealous
servants, and as executants of the royal will. Egmont had
just led a part of the Spanish army against the French, and
had brought the war to a successful issue by his victories at
St. Quentin and Gravelingen. It was not easy to see why
he excited the King's suspicion; he was not a character
likely to excite it; he was a distinguished soldier, the pride
of his master, Charles V., who had taken him with him to
Tunis at the age of seventeen, as soon as he was capable
of bearing arms. Then he was one of the greatest lords in
Flanders and Brabant, nearly related to some of the princely
houses of Germany, himself something of a German prince,
but sincerely devoted to the royal house.
It cannot be denied that he was vain, and liable to arrogant and violent outbursts of passion; but he had the
noble ambition to earn his sovereign's favour by substantial
services, and every one knew him to be guileless and unsuspecting. He now and then betrayed the wounded pride of
the great noble, was fond of receiving homage; and was
displeased when it was refused him. But these failings were
on the surface; his words were worse than his thoughts.
He had no talent for machinations or intrigues; he was
open-hearted and unsuspicious; utterly destitute of qualities
likely to make him dangerous.




292   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS
Prince William  of Orange (born  x533) had already
entered into the imperial service in the Netherlands with
his father. He had grown up as a page at the Emperor's
court, and as his avowed favourite had been entrusted with
important missions, even in his twentieth year. The world
then knew nothing of the great qualifications which he
afterwards displayed under the pressure of a mighty task;
he appeared merely as a clever, luxurious, pomp-loving
cavalier, in whom there was not the slightest trace of the
ambition of his later days.
His ancestors of Nassau had filled military and political
posts of importance in the Netherlands; his cousin Renatus
had bequeathed to him the important heritage of Orange;
and it was in this that the power of the Duke of Nassau,
which he also was, lay. His character as a statesman will
evolve itself in the course of the history to which he belongs.
When Charles laid aside the imperial crown, William was
employed to convey it to his brother Ferdinand; and when
he came to the Netherlands to abdicate, and introduce his
son, he appeared with one arm leaning on his crutch, the
other on William's shoulder.
There was nothing in such precedents to indicate hostility
to the Crown-at any rate, not more than belonged to every
privileged position in the State. Both men had performed
willing service for the Emperor; they were equally devoted
to him. Both were born and brought up as CatholicsEgmont rigidly so; Orange as a man of the world, by whom
religion was regarded as something incidental, which must
conform to circumstances. There could be no idea of
religious fanaticism in his case, or even of hearty sympathy
with any creed; and in this he was uncommonly like his
patron, Charles V.
Egmont and Orange considered themselves equally
adapted for the office of regent. Whether the expectations
of the nobles should be justified or not was a question on
both sides of which there was something to be said. It was
true that it would attach them to the Crown, if they were in
the service of the Government; but it was also true that there
was some danger in giving them so much power; for they
were almost all deeply in debt, and would therefore be predisposed to innovation; and with the suspicious Philip this
consideration prevailed.
The aristocracy had reckoned that if no one from among




MARGARET OF PARMA.                 293
themsalves were chosen, it would be some person agreeable
to them, whom they would be able to influence. They had
in view a relative of the Emperor; the Duchess Christina of
Lorraine was the candidate favoured by Orange. But
Philip again disappointed them; for instead of this popular
princess, Margaret of Parma was chosen.  Charles's eldest
child was an illegitimate daughter, whom it was easy for
him in his imperial position to pronounce legitimate, and by
means of a princely marriage to introduce to the dynastic
circles. She was brought up by the Emperor's sister, Mary
of Hungary, and married, when twelve years old, to a
miserable debauchee, Alexander of Medici, and after his
death to Octavio Farnese, afterwards Duke of Parma and
Piacenza. Alexander Farnese, one of the most distinguished mefi of the age, was the issue of this marriage.
Margaret of Parma had many masculine qualities. She
was of commanding appearance, an enthusiastic Catholic,
and deeply versed in the arts of Spanish dissimulation.
This appointment did not make a very favourable impression. The lady's character was not known, as we now
know it from authentic documents; but although her
mother was a native of the Netherlands, she had become a
stranger to the country, and it was surmised that she would
govern in the Spanish spirit, and that was enough.
We have in her correspondence, edited by Reiffenberg
in i842 (not published), the most complete disclosures as to
her position, and the spirit in which she entered upon her
office. Philip selected her because she was entirely dependent upon him. He could at any moment dismiss her
into her previous obscurity, for she had no property of her
own, and this he afterwards did. It appears plainly from
her letters that she justly estimated this fact, and in her
delicate position she was as subservient to every suggestion
of her brother as circumstances rendered desirable.
She systematically encouraged Philip's distrust of the
aristocracy of the country.  From  the first she brought
accusations against Egmont and Orange, and was continually casting oil upon the flames,  Instead of conciliating the
already aggrieved nobles, she rudely repulsed them.
With all its complicated conditions, the country was in
itself difficult to govern, and she was certainly not equal to
the task. Under any circumstances, it would have surpassed a woman's powers, especially one possessed of so




294    THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
little loyalty of character as the Regent; for her official
reports, compared with her letters, appear like one great lie.
She was a stranger to the country; she did not even, under
stand its language. Even if she had not been so disposed.,
she would have been obliged, therefore, to submit to the
influence of others; and her advisers were chosen in
accordance with her brother's will.
Among these there was one in particular at whom the
arrows of party spirit were soon aimed. This was Cardinal
Granvella, as he had been called since I56I. The family
had come into notice under Charles V. who was skilled in
discovering talent. Nicolas Perrenot was an obscure advocate in Burgundy, when the Emperor advanced him, and
made him his most confidential minister.  One of his children, Antony (born 1517), early displayed great talents and
energy, rapidly rose step by step in ecclesiastical rank, and
was soon distinguished by the Emperor's favour.
About I540 we already find him as Bishop of Arras, in
the Emperor's train; and being a prelate of an energetic and
not very pastoral turn of mind, he took part in all the
Emperor's Journeys  and battles like a general, and as on
other occasions he took a pleasure in not playing the part
of a demure priest.
Very different opinions were formerly entertained of his
position. We have now the means of forming a precise
estimate of it.
He was an adroit, clever, well-informed man, undoubtedly the most capable person whom the Regent had about
her, a native of the country, well acquainted with its circumstances, an energetic worker, of colossal endurance, and his
talent is proved by the number of well-written documents
that we possess by his hand. The whole weight of the
Government rested on his shoulders, and he carried it on in
blind devotion to the dictates and interests of Philip. Ile
might well say, "I am  not a Fleming.I belong to
Philip II."
Now that we are in possession of these letters, many
reproaches that have been cast upon him may be contradicted, but many of his less known weaknesses are
brought to light. All are agreed as to the extent and character of his ambition. These letters also show that he
obsequiously entered into every humour and idea of his
master, whose character he had well studied; and besides




CARDINAL GRANVELLA.                 295
being a clever statesman, he was well skilled in flattery.
But it is proved by these documents that he perhaps actually opposed the increase of bishoprics, the introduction ol
the Inquisition, and the execution of Egmont, which have
been ascribed to him. He was far from being an independent character, who would undertake anything on his
own responsibility. He was rather slippery, as a parvenu
whose patent of nobility is his master's favour-ready to
do anything, or leave it undone, according to order. He
was essentially an accommodating character, not in the least
like such men as Alba.
As is usual in such cases, he was abundantly hated. He
was the first man in the Government; everything passed
through his hands; and he was, in fact, the responsible
agent of the Government, even if he was more or less innocent of many things of which he was accused.
I-e was not likely to disarm prejudice; he had all the
characteristics of a parvenu; he was obsequious to those
above him, arrogant and assuming to those beneath him;
he boasted of his ecclesiastical honours, first as bishop,
then as archbishop, finally as cardinal, and he made all
who entered his presence-even the first men in the landoffensively feel that he was master. There were reasons for
which much might be said for not making either Egmont
or Orange, Stadtholder; but to place over men of princely
rank a coarse plebeian, the son of an advocate, was not
wise; it was to avoid one evil by committing another, and
it was one of Philip's most serious mistakes.
Granvella did not understand how to treat these great
lords; every one of them brought the same complaints
against him —not only the impetuous Egmont, but Horn
and Orange also, who at first tried to maintain a friendly
understanding with him. They considered him responsible
for every bad measure, and they were right; he was the
soul of a Government which had sworn death to the liberties
of the Netherlands, and he let the princes feel that they were
under his feet.
The form of the Government was as follows. Besides the
Regent, there were three councillors who nominally shared
the business of the country between them, but who really
were only tools of a cabinet from which the Regent had
secret orders to receive all instructions.  This consisted of
Granvella; the learned V iglius Van Aytta, a vacillating,




296    THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
untrustworthy character, of whom even his own party said
that he was to be had for money, and that his credit was
doubtful; and Barlaymont, who was one of the nobility, but
Mwho was therefore regarded as all the more inexcusable
for holding his head in his pride of office above the great
nobles.
FIRST DIFFERENCES. THE SPANISH SOLDIERY.-THE
INCREASE OF BISHOPRICS, I560-6I.
This was the position of the new Government in 1559.
It was an administration by strangers and upstarts, whose
creed, political and religious, was directly at enmity with
the sentiments of the nation, and who, however able they
might otherwise be, could but increase the variance which
was beginning to appear.
The aristocracy were as yet far from  any thought of
revolt, but they thought themselves entitled to certain
privileges and favours. Under Charles V. they had been
employed in all important posts; it had perhaps been
Charles's intention thereby to connect their interests with
his own, but perhaps also to ruin them financially; at all
events, he effected that they should spend extravagantly in
his service.
Historians all agree that the nobles of the Netherlands
took service under Charles's pompous government at enormous expense to themselves; that they rivalled each other
in a magnificence which ruined families of great wealth, and
involved nearly all in debt. The Emperor's commissions
and the places he bestowed were very honourable and
splendid; but they brought nothing in, and involved the
expenditure of private property. The debts of William of
Orange were said to amount to 9oo,ooo florins, of which
a considerable part was incurred by the cost of imperial
embassies. The great lords could not forget this. Then
they had hoped to effect a successful issue of the war with
France, and for this also they had made sacrifices. Besides
this, there had been a famine in the Netherlands, and the
largest demands had been made on the largest landowners.
For these services the aristocracy claimed the gift of offices
and dignities; but their claims were partly unwisely refused,
and partly met by insignificant requital.
Still, this would not have been enough to excite the




FIRST DIFFERENCES.               29'
Netherlands to revolt; it would have taken a long time, for
the fact that the Government had not conciliated even so
influential a portion of the population, to have acquired so
much importance. It was only to a partial extent that the
people made the cause of the disappointed nobles their
own, though they would rather have seen an Egmont or
Orange at their head, instead of a Spanish Camarilla. But
of the national aversion of the Netherlands to the Spaniards
there was no doubt; they hated each other as two distinct
nations under the same sceptre always have done; and the
new Government was assiduous in exaggerating rather than
ir: lessening these relations.
Philip II. began by garrisoning the country with his
troops. After the conclusion of the war with France, there
was no reason for delaying to disband the army. But a
portion of the Spanish troops were quartered in the Netherlands, perhaps at first with the idea that they should be
supported at the expense of the country, but with an
obvious afterthought that they might be required against an
enemy who, after the peace, could only be found within it.
The quartering of foreign troops was opposed to the spirit
of the privileges of all the provinces; besides which, after
the famine, from which, during the previous year, every
class had suffered, it was an intolerable burden. No one
could see why they should s:pport a few thousand brutal,
famishing Spanish soldiers, for whose perpetual presence no
good reason could be given. The burden affected all, and
the grievance was therefore general and popular; the bitter
feeling excited by it in some places was so great thtt in
Zealand they declared that they would all rather, men,
women, and children, be drowned in the waves than put up
with the shameful treatment of the Spanish soldiery any
longer.
The impossibility of retaining these soldiers, whomn
Philip required for his Inquisition, became so obvious, that
even Granvella and the Regent doubted whether it would
1c to exasperate the people any longer. They represented
to the King that if the troops were not removed, not a
penny more would come into the treasury from these rich
provinces; and Granvella wrote: " It cuts me to the heart
to see the Spanish troops depart, but if the imminent danger
Df a revolt in the provinces is to be avoided, it must be."
They almost dismissed eanem on their own responsibility at




298'IHE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
the beginning of  56I, and just then a sufficient pretext
occurred for employing them abroad.
But the King, who wrote very angry despatches about it,
was certain that nothing was to be done in this case by
concessions; whenever it was possible, sharp and decisive
measures must be taken, and if it did cost a few heads, that
was of no moment. He himself defended Granvella from
the reproach of having advised him to cut off half-a-dozen
heads; he had done no such thing, though if he had " it
would not have been so much amiss." And this at a time
when as yet not a finger was raised in revolt!
To this exasperation about the soldiers another was added.
A plan was conceived of increasing the number of bishop.
rics, and of making the new ones organs of the Inquisition.
In this wealthy country, with a population of three
million souls, there were only four bishoprics-Arras, Cambray, Tournay in the southern, and Utrecht in the northern
provinces.  This appeared to Philip very disproportionate
when he compared it with Spain, so thickly sown with spiritual shepherds. He proposed to multiply the number fourfold. Pope Paul IV. zealously entered into the project; in
the bull confirmed by his successor, Pius II., January, x 56o,
it was stated that it was urgently necessary to plant new
bishoprics in these blessed pastures. "The enemy of mankind was working in such manifold forms, the Netherlands
were so encompassed by heretical and schiSmatical nations,
that everything was to be feared for its spiritual safety. The
harvest was plenteous, but the labourers were few," &c.
But the clergy of the Netherlands thought otherwise; they
were not only strongly leavened with the philosophy of
Erasmus, but they feared that this multiplication of bishoprics would diminish their incomes-a reason which at first
caused Granvella, as Bishop of Arras, to be against it. The
people would not hear of it. If the object were only to
increase the pomp and luxury of the Catholic Church, it
would only furnish this sober, commercial people with an
expensive luxury. They had been good Catholics for centuries with only four bishoprics; what did they want with
more?  But if, as was to be feared, the object were to
multiply the tribunals for heretics, tremendous danger was
bound up with it. Besides, the charters of Holland and
Brabant, especially the "Joyeuse Entree" of the latter,
expressly requil ed the consent of the States to every increae




THE EDICTS.                     299
of the clergy.  It was one of the conditions which the ruler
had sworn to abide by, and must keep to, unless the subjects were to be released from the obligations imposed by
treaty upon them. At the same time, it was everywhere
reported that there was an intention to introduce the Spanish
Inquisition.* At all events, it was expressly stated in the
bull that each of the new bishops was to nominate a number
of prebendaries, to support him in the Inquisition; and Granvella himself received the title of Grand Inquisitor.
THE INQUISITION IN THE NETHERLANDS.
Even Charles V. had been nearly as severe against the
new doctrines in the Netherlands as in Spain, and this had
given great dissatisfaction.  But between I520 and 1530,
the spread of heresy had not been very great. The first
measure which had been taken against the Reformation was
the promulgation of the Edict of Worms, and the placing
of all books, teaching, teachers, and confessors of the new
gospel under an interdict, and this law was carried out with
sanguinary severity. In I 522 some Reform movements had
taken place among the Augustine Order at Brussels, and
the culprits were at once seized and burnt. For years the
most cruel sentences had been pronounced upon apostates,
and at the close of Charles's reign the number of those
who, often on frivolous charges, had been strangled, burnt,
beheaded, or buried alive, was by some, among them
Hugo Grotius, set down as one hundred thousand; and by
none at less than fifty thousand. The spirit of the imperial sentences, the notorious " edicts," is best seen from that of the
25th of November, I550, which Charles proclaimed in the
elation of his triumph at Augsburg, and in which all the
previous ones were summed up.
The next step was to repeat an edict of 24th October.
1529, in which it was forbidden to print, copy, multiply,
keep, conceal, buy, sell, or give away any work of Martin
Luther, Cicolampadius, Zwingli, Bucer, Calvin, or any other
heretic. It was forbidden to destroy, or in any way injure,
any image of the Virgin Mary or any canonised saint; to
* Whether the introduction of the " Spanish " Inquisition, or the
increase of the severity of the Inquisition of the Nether-lands was
intended, it is all one. The latter was undoubtedly Philip's intention,
acoording to his open declaration even before he returned to Spa:n.




300    TIH  REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
hold or attend any heretical conventicle; and the laity were
admonished that they were neither to read the Scriptures
nor to take part in any discussions or controversies respecting them, under pain of a variety of barbarous punishments.
Such miscreants were to be put to death as disturbers of the
public peace and order by the following methods: the
men by the sword, the women to be buried alive-if they
recanted; but if they are obstinate, they are all to be burnt:
in either case, all their property was to be confiscated. He
who omitted to accuse persons suspected 6f heresy, gave
them shelter, food, fuel, or clothing, was to be regarded as
a heretic himself. People who had not been convicted of
heresy, but were suspected of it, and required by the ecclesiastical judges to abjure such heresy, if they rendered
themselves suspicious again, were to be treated without
mercy, and punished with loss of life and property. An
informer, in case of conviction of the accused, was to receive the half of his property when it did not exceed one
hundred Flemish florins; when more, ten per cent. of the
excess. He who attended at a conventicle, and afterwards
informed against the others, was exempted from punishment.
And all these ordinances were meant in fearful seriousness, for at the end it says, " In order that the judges and
officials may not suppose, under pretext that these penalties
are too heavy, and are only meant to intimidate, that the
culprits may be treated with less severity, it is ordained that
the guilty shall be punished without fail; and the judges are
forbidden to change or modify the sentences in any way."
No one might intercede for a heretic, or give in any petition
for one, under pain of forfeiting his rights as a citizen, and
other arbitrary punishments.
Queen Mary of Hungary, the Emperor's sister, was so
shocked at the edict that she went herself to Augsburg to
petition that it might be mitigated; but all that the Emperor
conceded was the substitution of the words " ecclesiastical
judges " for "inquisitors."  Philip II. was right when he
once said, " What do we want with a new Inquisition there?
the present one is bad enough."
As early as 152I, Charles V. appointed a general inquisitor, with adjutants, to carry out his decrees. In 1525, these
were replaced by three superior inquisitors, and thus the
institution from time to time made progress, and it was not
merely independent of the clergy of the Netherlands-they




THE EDICTS.                   301
were entirely subjected to it; so that every ecclesiastic, even
up to the bishops, was as devoid of rights before the Inqui.
sition as any layman; and in April, i550, all provisions in
the charters, which were opposed to these edicts concerning
heresy, were declared null and void.
In accordance with his father's solemn and repeate:
instructions, Philip had fully confirmed and renewed all
this in the first month of his government, November, I555,
but meanwhile the aspect of religion in the Netherlands
l ad entirely altered.
Charles V.'s Inquisition had effected almost nothing for
the maintenance of the old faith. Every year a number of
cruel executions had taken place, and a certain Titelmans *
had administered  the dreadful laws with all the fanaticism  of an unscrupulous renegade.  But in this case,
as in others, the blood of the martyrs was the seed of
the Church. The most sanguinary strictness did not in
the least prevent the spread of the new doctrines, which at
the time of the first measures against them numbered very
few followers, but by the time of the Edict of I550 they
had increased tenfold. Ten thousand fugitives were already
living abroad on account of their faith; but as only the
wealthy could afford this, these figures imply a very considerable number of converts who were not intimidated by
the barbarous Inquisition.
The complaints against Philip, who was only carrying
out his father's laws, and who during the war with France
had somewhat relaxed the persecution of the heretics, were
therefore only so far justified, in that it was believed from
some of his expressions that he would outdo his father, and
that since heresy had spread so widely he would double or
treble -the old severity. Complaint alter complaint reached
the Regent, and through her the King, from Egmont and
Orange, of Granvella and the Spanish policy. This convinced Philip that Granvella was just the man for the
Netherlands, and that these. two lords must be regarded as
the most dangerous enemies of the country.  He conceived
a violent hatred of Egmont, although he found it prudent
to conceal it for a time, and forgot all the services that he
had rendered to the kingdom.
The years   562-3-4 passed away amidst irritation and
* See Motley.




302   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
excitement  The Inquisition pursued its fearful course;
bitter hatred raged in the country; the aristocracy warned
and protested, and adopted the not unskilful plan of sparing
the Regent and attacking Granvella, accusing him of being
her guilty and responsible adviser.
The Regent at first watched the storm with displeasure,
and then with malicious satisfaction. The wily Italian said
to herself that if any one must fall it had better be Granvella
than herself; she therefore suddenly changed her tactics.
Having first defended Granvella, she now accused him of
being the cause of all the discontent; but Granvella did not
alter his course.
Philip II. seemed soon disposed to make a concession.
He told his sister that he saw that it would be difficult to
retain Granvella, and that his dismissal was perhaps inevitable. At the same time he wrote a confidential letter to
Granvelia, in which he proposed to him to withdraw into
his native Burgundy for a time, until the ill-will against him
had blown over; it should not be any disadvantage to him,
and he had nothing to fear for his person or position: " for
I regard your interest and honour as my own."
Thus we find duplicity on every side.  This is the most
repulsive feature in all these complications, and it is therefore unreasonable to ascribe all the blame to any one person.
The great nobles were not sincere, for they mixed up their
private affairs with the complaints as to the public grievances;
the Regent was not sincere, for she sacrificed the man whose
system she had long regarded as her own, and which was
unchanged; but the most insincere of all was Philip, for
he removed his tool in apparent displeasure, and yet was
resolved to carry out his system to the utmost.
So in I564 Granvella was removed, with the ostensible
object of reconciling his opponents to the Crown, but really
to withdraw him from the universal hatred. The institution
of the new  bishoprics proceeded at a rapid pace; the
Inquisition was reorganized with fresh energy and severity,
though on the basis of the old Edicts. Tribunals were
established in every province, the express purpose of which
was to enforce to the utmost the imperial Edicts. One
execution followed quickly upon another, judicial murders
with most revolting details; every preacher of the new
doctrines, every one even suspected of heresy, was con.
demned and executed. A former Carmelite monk, Fabricius,




EXECUTIONS.                  303
who was much followed as a preacher at Antwerp, was
ieized, placed upon the rack, and executed. A great
popular outbreak had followed, which plainly showed the
feeling of the masses. But no warning was taken, the
religious terrorism increased, and if any proof was needed
that Granvella's recall was no sign of a return to better
paths it was furnished by this.
Before Granvella was recalled the nobles had refused to
attend the Council of State any longer. They had effected
his fall and had returned, but now they were made responsible for things that they abhorred. They felt that they had
been ill used, and that the man whom they hated had only
been sacrificed in order ruthlessly to carry on his still more
hateful system. When the King was about to have the
decrees of the Council of Trent proclaimed they were roused
to resistance; Orange made a powerful speech in the
Council, which occasioned the President Viglius an attack
of apoplexy which nearly proved fatal, and it was determined to send Egmont to Madrid, in order to open the
eyes of the ill-informed King, to represent to him that the
hour of the Government, as it had been, was come, and that
the system of bishops and executioners, Edicts and Inquisitions, was no longer tenable. Count Egmont seemed to be
specially adapted for the mission; he was a zealous Catholic,
a distinguished general, and as loyal a subject as any
Spaniard. Orange did not anticipate much good from this
step, for he was convinced that the King was playing a
double game, but it appeared at the moment to be the only
thing to be done.
EGMONT'S JOURNEY AND THE COMPROMISE, 1565-6.
Egmont set out for Spain in I565. The King looked
forward to his arrival with deep dissatisfaction, but his
reception was all that could be desired. He was feted as
the victor of St. Quentin and Gravelingen, and treated with
the greatest distinction; the design was to intoxicate the
vain man with flattery and honour, and it succeeded perfectly. He had interviews with the King, who appeared to
the guileless count utterly different from the system in the
Netherlands; he was good-will and cordiality itself. He
seemed willing to put an end to some of the grievances,
and even in matters of faith to yield as far as his conscience




304   MTHlE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
would permit. Egmont himself did not want any fayvoti
shown to the new doctrines; he only wished that the
perpetual executions should be put an end to, for they
promoted heresy more than anything else. The King did.
not seem disinclined to meet his wishes. The count was not
disturbed by the snares and reservations in his answers; he
thought everything had been attained when the King
declared his willingness to submit the matter to another
trial, and departed, as he himself wrote, " the happiest man
in the world."
Overjoyed at having accomplished so much, Egmont
returned home,' and reported that the King was the best
man in the world; it was only his counsellors who were
executioners; he had gone into everything in the most
friendly manner, had graciously promised that all the
evils should be mitigated, that the nuisance of the executions should cease, yet that the unity of the Church should
not suffer.
Very different were the instructions received by the
Regent soon after Egmont's return; they enjoined that the
old edicts should be strictly enforced; there was nothing
about reforms, nothing about concessions, and this was soon
publicly known.
Orange saw that his friend had been utterly deceived;
the people shook their heads at the discrepancy, and
Egmont was beside himself with rage and scorn.
The King had played the part of a cowardly despot, who
had not the courage to declare his sentiments to the count;
while he was so friendly to his face, he was taking care that
not the least concession should be made.
Some fruitless negotiations took place with the bishops
and doctors of theology, and then, at the King's express
command, it was decreed in the council that the decrees
of the Council of Trent, the Edicts, and the Inquisition,
should be promulgated in every city and village every six
months.
As this decree was being passed, Orange whispered to
his neighbour that before long the most extraordinary
tragedy would begin that had ever been played on earth,
and during the next few days the worst forebodings were
rife. The effect of the new proclamations was indescribable;
they were received with the horror that forebodes a national
catastrophe; it was as if the blood had been suddenly




THE KING'S DISSIMULATION.             305
congealed in the nation's veins. Trade was at an enlcd,
foreign merchants fled, the manufactories were idle, the
stillness of death fell over Antwerp, the capital of this
flourishing mercantile State, and the universal exasperation
burst forth in a flood of passionate pamphlets and appeals
which no Inquisition could stem,
In a public letter to the King, the independent and
manly spirit of those who were threatened with loss of
liberty of conscience was strikingly expressed: "We are
ready to die for the Gospel, but we read therein,' Render
unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the
things that are God's.' We thank God that even our
enemies are constrained to bear witness to our piety and
innocence, for it is a common saying,' He does not swear,
for he is a Protestant.'' He is not an immoral man or a
drunkard, for he belongs to the new sect;' and yet we are
subjected to every kind of punishment that can be invented
to torment us."
The position of the aristocracy, in relation to the King's
policy, gradually became clearer. Their undecided bearing
had often laid them open to the charge of selfishness, but
this was the case no longer; the time had come when they
had to choose between being hammer or anvil. They were
justified in complaining of grievances so bitter, and would
have lost all the people's confidence if they had not now
taken an independent part.
The idea began to prevail among the party of the young
and passionate nobles, not altogether consisting of pure
elements, that they must put an end to'half measures, and
boldly take the initiative.
Count Louis of Nassau, more fiery than his brother
William, and more inclined to radical views, took great
pains to bring about an understanding among the nobles;
he was a distinguished soldier, and a man of the greatest
moral courage. He was supported as adviser and diplomatic ally by the learned St. Aldegonde, surpassed by few
as a theologian, soldier, author, and orator, and a thorough
patriot. There were others of less blameless character,
such as Count Brederode, a man of adventurous courage,
but strongly tainted with the libertinism of the nobles. He
was deeply involved in pecuniary difficulties, and theretore
not above suspicion that he was speculatiing on a revolution
which might place him personally in a better position.
20




306   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
It was a mixed company of sincere enthusiasts, secret
Protestants, discontented nobles, and selfish schemers, who
during the first half of 1566 united in a Compromise, in
order energetically to oppose the King's system, at first by
legal methods.
About five hundred nobles, who were afterwards joined
by many of the burgher class, bound themselves by this
Compromise to unite in opposing Spanish tyranny and the
Inquisition, which were ruining the country, and any
violence which should be offered to any of them. They
had no thought of revolt or insurrection; they wished rather
to defend the rights of the monarch and to put down disturbances.
The former leaders of the aristocracy, Egmont, Orange,
and Horn, took no part in it; they saw that most serious
consequences must result from such measures, and that the
strength of the League was altogether insufficient to avert
them. Orange especially stood aloof, although by repeated
remonstrances he had removed all doubt as to his opinion
on the main question, the Inquisition. He knew the mixed
character of the League, and what must come of a conspiracy the members of which gave vent to their zeal in
wild speeches, amidst the clashing of glasses at banquets;
but he could do nothing to prevent it; they had begun to
play their part, and the passions of the young nobles would
have play.
A great demonstration was decided on for the spring of
1566; the cavaliers of the League were to go in solemn
procession to the Regent, and hand in a petition, praying
for mitigation of the Edicts and the abolition of the Inquisition.
THE BEGGARS, THE FIELD PREACHERS, AND THE
DESTRUCTION OF IMAGES.
The procession took place on the 5th April, I566. The
flower of the young nobility appeared, two or three hundred
strong, in splendid attire, before the Regent's palace at
Brussels, and Brederode read the address in a solemn
assembly of the Council. The petitioners therein renewed
their assurances of loyalty, and protested against th!
calumnies of those who accused them of planning revolt;
but, although in a tolerably respectful tone, they depicted




THE BEGGARS.                 307
the distress of the provinces in lively colours, and requested
that until a special ambassador should have procured the
abolition of the Edicts from the King, the Regent should
at least suspend them.
When the Duchess, who during this scene had hardly
been able to master her excitement, summoned the Council
at once to consider the subject, Barlaymont endeavoured to
pacify her, representing that she need not fear "this troop
of beggars;" if the answer depended upon him alone, it
should be given in blows, and they should go down the
palace stairs faster than they had come up.
Barlaymont's words have become immortal; as soon as
it went round that these noble cavaliers had been insulted
by an upstart, the nickname became a title of honour.
The Duchess gave a well-meaning but evasive answer.
The three hundred petitioners met at a banquet on the 8th
of April. Barlaymont's words were discussed, and when
they were consulting as to a suitable name for the League,
Brederode rose and said, "They call us Beggars; let us
adopt the name. We will resist the Inquisition, but we
will remain true to the King and to the Beggars' wallet."
Then he called for a leathern pouch, such as was worn by
vagrant beggars, drank off a wooden bowl of wine at one
draught, and set it down with the words: "Vivent les
gueux." Amidst cheers and laughter the pouch and bowl
went round the table: the League had been christened.
The party had a symbol, and a token was given for the
masses. Up to this time the contest had been confined to
the upper grades of society, the secrecy of cabinets, and
diplomatic transactions. Now that the great lords had to a
certain extent formed a league of brotherhood with the
common people, the exasperated populace said among
themselves, "These shall be our leaders," and mnore
resulted from it than the carousers at the banquet, or the
great'Beggar,' Brederode, expected or wished. The Beggars' symbol spread throughout the country; noblemen
were seen in the grey garb of mendicant monks. A new
coin, the'Beggars' Penny,' with the image of the King on one
side, and two hands holding a beggar's wallet on the other,
served as a medal.  And now the masses began to move.
While the Privy Council was endeavouring to obtain a
"Moderation" of the Edicts, and, with the aid of the
sharp-sighted Viglius, effected that the heretics should be




308    THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
no longer burnt but hung, and that the Inquisition should
proceed " prudently, and with circumspection," a move.
inent broke out among the people which mocked at all' the
Edicts. The open country was suddenly covered with
thousands of armed noblemen, citizens, and peasants, who
assembled in large crowds in the open air to listen to some
heretical preacher, Lutheran, Calvinist, or even an Anabaptist, and to hold forbidden services, with prayers and
hymns, in the mother tongue. They sallied forth with
pistols, arquebuses, flails, and pitchforks; the place of
meeting was marked out like a camp, and surrounded by
guards; from ten to twenty thousand assembled, the armed
men outside, the women and children within. After the
immense choir had sung a psalm, one of the excommunicated preachers appeared between two pikes (according to the " Moderation," a price was set upon the head of
every one of them), and expounded the new doctrine from
the Scriptures; the assembly listened in devout silence,
and when the service was ended separated quietly, but
defiantly. This was repeated day after day throughout the
country, and nobody dared to attack the armed field
preachers.
The Regent was in a painful situation; she was always
having it proclaimed that the Edicts were in force, but
nobody cared; and when she demanded of the authorities
of Antwerp that the city militia should be called out, she
was told it was impossible, and so it was. It was all in
vain unless foreign troops came to enforce obedience, and
these she had neither power nor funds to procure. The
King hesitated in his usual fashion, and left the Regent to
the torments of powerlessness and uncertainty.
Meanwhile the universal excitement bore fatal fruit.
Instead of the dignified preachings and peaceful assemblies
of May, in June and July there were wild excesses and
furious mobs.
Orange had just persuaded the Regent to permit the
field preaching in the open country, if they avoided the
towns, when the first great outbreak occurred in Antwerp.
Two (lays after a great procession, on the i8th of August,
1566, at which the Catholic clergy of Antwerp had made a
pompous display to the annoyance of the numerous Protestants, the beautiful cathedral was invaded by a furious
mob, who destroyed without mercy all the images, pictures,




THE IMAGE BREAKERS.                309
and objects of art that it contained. This demolition of
images, the stripping of churches, desecration of chapels,
and destruction of all symbols of the ancient faith, spread
from Antwerp to other places, Tournay, Valenciennes, &c.
It was done with a certain moderation, for neither personal
violence nor theft took place anywhere, though innumerable
costly articles were lying about. Still, these fanatical scenes
not only excited the ire of Catholics, but of every religious
man; in Antwerp, especially, the seafaring mob had rushed
upon everything that had been held sacred for centuries.
In her distress the Regent wished to flee from Brussels,
but Orange, Egmont, and Horn compelled her to remain,
and induced her to proclaim the Act of the 25th of August,
by which an armistice was decided on between Spain and
the Beggars. In this the Government conceded the abolition
of the Inquisition and the toleration of the new doctri; es,
and the Beggars declared that for so long as this promise
was kept their league was dissolved.
In consideration of this, the first men in the country
agreed to quell the disturbances in Flanders, Antwerp,
Tournay, and Malines, and to restore peace.  Orange
effected this in Antwerp like a true statesman, who knew
how to keep himself above party spirit; but in Flanders,
Egmont, on the contrary, went to work like a brutal soldier;
he stormed against the heretics like Philip's Spanish executioners, and the scales fell from the eyes of the bitterly
disappointed people.
Meanwhile a decision had been come to at Madrid. At
the time of the crisis in the early summer, Philip had not
been able to arrive at any. The Regent was waiting in
vain for an answer to her pressing questions about the
events of April, while the armed assemblies were spreading
over the country; and when at length the irresolute King
had determined to proclaim an amnesty, though it was
really rather a proscription, and to promise indulgence,
while he was assuring the Pope by protocol before notaries
that he never would grant any, the news came of the image
riots ot August, and a report from the Duchess in which she
humbly begged the King's pardon for having allowed a
kind of religious peace to be extorted from her, but she was
entirely innocent; they had forced it from her as a prisoner
in her palace, and there was one comfort, that the King
was not bound by a promise made only in her name.




3 I0   IrE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
Philip's rage was boundless, and yet it was a sort of
satisfaction to him that he had been right. He could say,
" This is what we are come to with the false system of indulgence; do not talk any more to me of forbearance and
conciliation." He was resolved upon fearful revenge, even
when he was writing that he should know how to restore
order in his provinces by means of grace and mercy. His
instructions to the Regent were not dubious, while she,
in her letters to Orange, Egmont, and Horn, first hinted,
and then more and more plainly indicated a return to the
old policy. Well-informed as Orange was, he understood
the whole situation perfectly; he knew that while the
Regent was heaping flattery upon him, she and Philip
were compassing his destruction; that her only object could
be to keep the peace until the Spanish preparations were
complete, and meanwhile, if possible, to compromise him
with the people.
He wrote to Egmont, and laid the dangers of their
situation before him, and communicated his resolve either
to escape Philip's revenge by flight, or to join with his
friends in armed resistance to the expected attack of the
Spanish army. But Egmont in his unhappy blindness had
resolved to side with the Government which was more than
ever determined on his destruction, and the meeting at
Dendermonde, October, x566, when Orange consulted him,
Louis of Nassau, and Hogstraaten, as to a plan of united
action, was entirely fruitless.
Egnmont felt secure in the consciousness of his innocence,
and the recent proofs he had given of his loyalty, and he
was resolved to give new proofs of it in proceeding against
the heretics. Admiral Horn, who had staked large property
in the service of the Emperor and King, and had never
received the least return in answer to his just demands,
gave up his office, and, like a weary philosopher, retired
into solitude.  Left entirely alone, Orange thought of
emigrating; in short, the upper circle of the previous
party of opposition no longer existed.
But it was not so with the mad leaders of the Beggars.
While the zealous inhabitants of Valenciennes, incited by
two of the most dauntless Calvinistic preachers, undertook
to defend themselves against the royal troops with desperate
bravery, Count Brederode went about the country with a
clang of sabres, exciting disturbances in order to give the




DEFEAT OF THE BEGGARS AT ANSTRUlVEEL. 3 I 
heretics at Valenciennes breathing-time by a happy diversion. An attempt upon the island of Walcheren, part of
the Stadtholdership of Orange, failed, but at the village of
Anstruweel, near Antwerp, large numbers of armed men
assembled, and they were continually reinforced by malcontents from all the surrounding country. Egmont lost
no time in proceeding against them. On the 12th of May,
1567, an army of his old troops fell upon the insurgents and
completely subdued them.
The fatal struggles of the volunteers of the Beggars'
League could be seen from the walls of Antwerp. The
thousands of Calvinists within the walls longed to go to the
help of their brethren. As there was no longer any hope,
at the peril of his life William of Orange intercepted them,
and, with a circumspection and wisdom which betrayed the
truly great man, he calmed the passions which threatened to
break out into a fearful civil war.
All that Philip wanted to enable him to gain the day was
an unsuccessful attempt at revolt. The attack upon images
and the Beggars' volunteer march did more for the Govern
ment than all Granvella's system; the blind passions of the
iconoclasts, and the appearance of the nobles in the late
revolt, drove every one who favoured the Catholics and loved
peace into the arms of the Government.
The reaction set in with the sanguinary defeat of the
rebels at Valenciennes, who never again even made an
attempt at resistance.
Orange gave up the liberties of his country for lost. It
was his conviction that the King could now do whatever he
pleased; and he feared the worst, for he had long had no
doubt as to the sentiments of the wily monarch. Stating
that he could never take the new oath of fealty which was
required, because it would oblige him to become the
executioner of his Protestant countrymen, he renounced
his offices and dignities, and made a last attempt to save his
friend Egmont, to whom he was heartily attached. At a
meeting they had at Willebrock, Orange represented to him
that judgment had already been passed upon them at the
Escurial, and that Philip's revenge was implacable; he
advised him therefore to save himself for better times, and
like him to leave the country.
Egmont was not to be convinced; he was magnanimous
and loyal to infatuation; he is said at last to have said




3! 2   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
almost in a tone of mockery that his friend showed more
fear than became a knight, and to have exclaimed at parting, "Adieu, mon prince sans cceur!" to which Orange
answered,' "Adieu, mon comte sans tate!"
The friends were not to meet again. Before his departure, Orange wrote parting letters to Egmont and Horn,
and retired to Dillenburg, the ancient property of the
family.
He wished to be spared for better times; he saw the
storm coming, and was too cool-headed to offer himself as
the first sacrifice. In fact, just when he was travelling to~
wards Germany, Duke Alba, the hangman of the Nethez
lands, was on his way to his destination.,      t ti traditionX  the remarks in Mu




CHAPTER XXXI.
e TDhuke of Alba in the Netherlands. —His Entry into the Country.Alba's Characteristics. —Disappointment of the Regent. —Guilelessness of Egmont and Horn.-Their imprisonment, 9th of September.-The Council cG Disturbances.-Executions, and the First
War of Independence, X567-8. —Members, System, and Proceedings of tile Council of Blood.-Louis of Nassau in Friesland,
April-July, i568.-Success at Heiliger Lee in May. —Death of
Egimot and Horn, 5th of jime.-Alba's Victory, Juiy.-Advance
of orange and Dissolution of his Army, October.-Highest Point
and Decline of Alba's System, I569-73.-The "i Ioth Penny,"
March, 1569.-The " Amnesty," I4th July, I57o. —The SeaBeggars at Brill, Ist April, I 72. —Louis of Nassau at Mons, May.
-The Rising in Holland and Zealand.-Second Campaign of
William of Orange frustrated by the Massacre of St. Bartholomew.
— Alba's Retreat, December, I573.
ALBA'S APPEARANCE IN THE NETHERLANDS.
rFiHE Regent had latterly been writing calming letters to
Madrid, and had, on the whole, correctly described
the situation. Now that the outrage of the image breakers,
and the revolutionary madness had been put down, the real
leaders captured, fallen, or fled, it was desirable to proceed
energetically indeed, but with moderation, in order that the
people m;ght be pacified, and the sending of a man like Alba
must at ai events be prevented, for the people would regard
himl  with horror as their executioner.  This opinion was
not without advocates at Madrid; the King's most eminent
councillors, men like Ruy Gonmez and Perez, were of opinion
that this favourable moment should be seized, by a wise
combination  of moderation  and energy, of permanently
attachinig these valuable provinces, after bitter estrangement, to Spain; the privy council was quite divided, the King
woldd hear nothing of moderation, held his sister's govern.




314   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
ment responsible for the revolt, and adhered to his intentioc
of sending Alba into the provinces with an army.
According to Margaret's views, and those of several of
the King's advisers, this was to re-ignite a spark which was
nearly extinct-to renew a fermentation which was nearly at
an end. In short, it was the fatal turning-point for the fate
of the Spanish rule.
Up to the spring of 1567, the King's best support had
been the errors of his enemies; now that he resolved to
give up all moderation, and to send Alba to conquer a
nation that was almost pacified already, it must bend or
break, and the seeds of a desperate revolution were sown.
But from the first, Philip II. had no other idea than that
of cruel revenge and conversion at the point of the sword,
and this Orange had correctly foreseen.
In accordance with the King's arbitrary will, Alba came.
The Regent declined to have anything to do with him, and
retired into the background before she was recalled, as she
foresaw that she must sooner or later do. The army
which suddenly appeared in the Netherlands was the
finest which had for a long time been led by a Spanish
commander.
Alba was considered to be a most distinguished general,
and in the judgment of friends and foes he was the greatest
military genius that Spain had produced in that age. This
opinion was afterwards modified, for it proved that he was
mnore capable of leading a small force than of conducting a
great operation. Great importance was attached to the
opinion of Charles V. Alba had grown up and earned his
laurels under him, the chief of which he gained during the
campaign of 1546-7 in Germany, and especially at the
victory at Miihlberg. But that was the acme of his generalship, and it was afterwards remembered how easy these
successes were made for him. He was contending with
unskilful generals, troops hastily summoned, and an unprepared and surprised army. At the siege of Metz he had
failed utterly, which seems to have brought him into disfavour with Charles, and, as Charles foretold, he was not
successful in Italy.
These failures had latterly considerably tarnished his
fame, while that of Egmont, after the victories of St. Quentin
and Gravelingen, was in its pIrime. Still, in proportion as
Charles's opinion of Alba was lessening, he increased in




THE DUKE OF ALBA.                315
favour with Philip. The reasons of this, however, were
rather political than military.
His character was congenial to Philip, partly from similarity, partly as complement to his own.
Like Philip, he was harsh and severe to an extreme; he
was a fanatical Castilian, who looked down with supreme
contempt upon everything not Castilian. Like Philip, he
was filled with a passionate zeal for conversion, and fully
agreed with him in the opinion that " it was better to have
a kingdom ruined by war, if it remained true to God and
the lKing, than to keep it unspoiled by war for the benefit
of Satan and his followers, the heretics." Then he was
blindly subservient to the will of his monarch, and possessed
the shrewd cunning, the talent for wily intrigues, and
relentless energy, which combined to form Philip's idea of
a useful servant. These were the qualities which attached
him to the King; there was nothing else to place him so far
above others who had claims to be employed in this mission
to the Netherlands. Margaret and Don John of Austria
were both more eminent than he was, and all the generals
who succeeded him in the Netherlands have cast him,
both in a military and political point of view, into the
shade.
In a political aspect he was the most insignificant person
that could be found; narrow, limited in the whole scope of
his ideas, he never comprehended how a State should be
governed; all his administration was like pouring water into
the bowl of the Danaides. When we observe the subsequent
conduct of Requesens and Alexander of Parma, that of
Alba appears not only like the greatest cruelty and tyranny,
but like pitiful incompetence and stupidity. Just at the
last he began to see it, when he demanded his dismissal; he
was anxious to retire at once before the storm broke over
his head. He was as narrow-minded and empty-headed as
Philip hiniself; in fact, he was his counterpart.
This judgment is mainly derived from documents only
lately made public. It is usual to describe him as more
able, but that estimate does not ag ree with these witnesses,
according to whom neither his political nor military measures gave evidence of any talent. He was boin to ruin
everything-army, property, and country-in rigid obedience
to the will of his King, in the interests of sincere fanaticism.n
and he was quite incapable of projecting or effecting an)




3      THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
salutary measures. This was the man who, in the spring ol
1567, received orders to set out with an army which was
to embark at Carthagena, land at Genoa, and proceed
through Savoy, Burgundy, and Lorraine, to the Netherlands.
They embarked on the ioth of May, and, after a long and
weary march, reached Luxemburg in August.
The habit of wilv double-facedness had become a second
nature to Philip; it was the characteristic also of his
enemies as well as of his tools, but they none of them
equalled him.  In order to mask his displeasure with
Margaret, he deceived her with a story which seemed to
have had no other object; he told her that he intended
corning himself, in order to quell opposition, and by his
personal influence, to effect what could never be done by
the most faithful servant of any monarch.
This was quite in accordance with Margaret's wishes; she
thought, indeed, that she was mistress of the situation, but
it was perfectly agreeable to her that the King should come
and smooth down the final difficulties if it would only
prevent Alba's coming. She was still putting faith in the
King's visit when Alba arrived in Luxemburg.
Alba came. One of his first speeches was-" I, who
have tamed people of iron, shall soon manage these people
of butter." A confidential letter given him by the King,
with the contents of which no one else was acquainted,
contained his instructions.*  He was, above all things, to
secure the most eminent men who had made themselves
suspicious during the disturbances, and to render them incapable of mischief; then to imprison and punish the guilty
among the people, and extort the wealth of the country for
the treasury and the support of the troops. Alba used to
talk of a "-stream fathoms deep" of wealth which he would
conduct from the Netherlands to Madrid. Finally, he was
to carry out the Edicts against heresy with unswerving
severity, to finish the organization of the new bishoprics,
and to chastise the rebellious cities, partly by means of the
Inquisition, and partly by draining' the wealth into the
treasury. This, therefore, amounted to-Execution of high
and low, annihilation of all old constitutions, privileges, and
liberties, especially abolition of the right of consent to the
levy of taxes, and sanguinary execution of the measures
* Juste.




EGMONT AND HORN.                317
which had for years been giving rise to all this discon.
tent.
it was necessary to secure the most powerful leaders of
the aristocracy before a word of this became known. When
the dreaded man appeared, they were partly alarmed, partly
embittered, but as loyal subjects they thought he must not
be slighted, and came with numerous retinues to meet him,
Egmont at their head, and later Horn also. It was just for
these two that Alba was watching. HIe was deeply grieved
to find that Orange was gone, for if he were not taken iF
would be thought that nothing had been done. A most
unworthy game now began to be played. These two men
might have made mistakes, but they had done nothing
illegal. Their many complaints, and Egmont's journey to
Spain-when he had been so graciously received at Madrid
-were the worst accusations against them. What was now
done showed that Egmont was, in fact, known to be
innocent.
In order to disarm all suspicion he was received in the.most friendly manner, and, although he was assailed by
warnings of every sort, it perfectly succeeded. Horn was
less eager than Egmont; he was still sulking in retirement,
and Alba took all manner of pains to entice him to Brussels.
One flattering letter after another informed Horn that his
Majesty entertained the highest opinion of him and his
services, that he would doubtless be amply indemnified for
the pecuniary losses he had sustained in the service of the
State, and that the Duke was desirous of entrusting him
with the most flattering commissions on the part of the
King. Horn excused himself; could not come immediately;
must at least first go and see his brother-in-law, who was
dangerously ill. He went, and hastened from his death-bed
to Brussels in order not to be too late. The lies by which
both these men were entrapped show plainly that it was
known that they were not guilty.
It was on the 22nd of August that Alba made his entry
into Brussels. If anybody was alarmed at the visitor, it was
the Regent. On tlie one hand, as a cautious Italian, she
shuddered at the idea of cruel and sanguinary measures,
and on the other she was proud of having been so far successful that force was no longer necessary; finally, she knew
that if Alba were there he would in reality be over her, and
her pride would not suffer her to serve under him. She had




318   THE. REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
done all she could to keep him away; she had represented
to the King that his coming was enough of itself to excite
rebellion; he was so hated that she sent an embassy to him
herself to entreat him not to come, and she would be answerable that peace should not be disturbed. But Alba appealed
to the King's orders. She had latterly displayed the triumphant security of one who had gained a complete victory;
she was conciliating and magnanimous; and now the very
man was sent to her who would undo all her work. In
the belief that the King was coming himself she had been
making preparations to give him a festive reception, and now
it was not the Kirg but his executioner who was coming.
Unpleasant scenes immediately took place, but Alba had
been ordered to detain her; it was not desired that she
should go at.once; of course everything went on quite
independently of her. After Alba's arrival she no longer
considered herself Regent.
Alba's first act of importance was the imprisonment of
Egmont and Horn on the 9th of September.
The Duke called a Council of War, as he called it, to
decide upon a plan of fortifying Antwerp.  He ordered
plans and sketches to be made, and invited a distinguished
company. Before the Council, the Grand Prior, Ferdinand
of Toledo, Alba's natural son, gave a great banquet at which
Egmont, Horn, and many of the nobility were present.
Egmont was once more warned, even by the host himself,
who had conceived a chivalrous affection for him, to flee
on the swiftest horse before the banquet was ended. This
alarmed even Egmont, and he consulted his countryman
Noircarmes, who allayed his fears, and he went with Horn
and the rest into the Duke's house. Both busied themselves in studying the plans, while their dwellings were
searched, their papers sealed, their secretaries and confidential servants secured. When they were about to return
home in the evening they were seized and imprisoned.
This came unexpectedly to every one, and most of all to
Egnmont and Horn themselves. Up to this time they had
been treated with marked attention. On that very morning
Alba had been riding one of the horses presented to him by
Egmont, and thus lulled into false security they became the
victims of unparalleled treachery.
lThis was the beginning of a long course of horrors: the
great tragedy in the Netherlands had begun.




THE COUNCIL OF BLOOD.              319
THE COUNCIl. OF BLOOD, THE EXECUTIONS, AND THE
FIRST WAR OF INDEPENDENCE.
Immediately after the imprisonment of the two noblemen,
the organization of terrorism began, the Council of State
was set aside, and a Council of Disturbances, or " Council
of ]Blood," as the inhabitants called it, was instituted with
full powers. Viglius continued to be the servile president
of the now insignificant Council, and was not a member of
the Council of Blood, but conscientiously performed the
office of executioner. He selected, chiefly from among his
countrymen, those best adapted for the new court. Noircarmes and Barlaymont were the most noteworthy, but the
soul of the crew was the lowest Spaniard who'could be
found, a creature named Vargas, who, as his enemies said,
had been obliged to leave Spain because he had violated a
girl whose guardian he was, and the story is probable; for
Alba once wrote to the King that he had better suspend
the criminal process against Vargas until the affairs of the
Netherlands were settled. This shameless subject, who
dared not show his face in Spain, waS the prominent person
in a tribunal which had power over the lives and properties
of the flower of the nation —a man who well knew how to
play the part of a judicial murderer with incredible cynicism,
He used to say, in his notorious Latin, " Haeretici fraxerunt
templa, boni nihil faxerunt contra, ergo debent omnes patibulare," and, in answer to protests, " Non curamus vestros
privilegios."
The Council of Blood began its sittings on the aoth of
September. Alba devoted nearly all his time to it. For
days together he was not to be seen either with the troops
or in the Council of State. He sat in the Council of Blood
for seven, eight, nine hours at a time. He never was more
diligent than when at his favourite work. Every sentence
passed through his hands, for he could not trust the
lawyers always to pass sentence of death. "'; The lawyers,"
he wrote to the King, " were only accustomed to pass sentence on crime being proved, but that would never do here."
All the ordinary administration of justice was suspended;
all charters, all the existing laws, all provincial and civic
privileges, were repealed by a stroke of the pen; the
public weal was subjected altogether to a revolri tionary
tl ibunal.




320   TE: RE:VOLT OF THI i     NETHERLANDS.
Alba's mission was to exterminate treason; and who was
the arch-traitor?
Whoever had taken part in the petitions from the States
and cities against the new bishoprics and the Inquisition,
or in favour of the relaxation of the edicts, was accused of
conspiring against God and the Church.  Every nobleman
who had given in such a petition, or had approved of it,
was guilty of high treason. All the nobles and officials
who, under pretext of the pressure of circumstances, had
tolerated the field preaching; all nobles, judges, and officials
who had not opposed the first petition; every one who had
attended the field preaching, and had not opposed the
image breaking; finally, all who had expressed the opinion
that the King had no right to deprive the provinces of their
liberties, or that the present tribunal was bound by any
laws or privileges whatever, were also declared guilty of high
treason.
The last idea was also once put forth during the French
revolution.
According to the sixteen Articles, the crime of high treason
had a thousand forms. The processes and punishment were
all the more simple and summary-death and forfeiture of
property. This explains the fact that in the course of three
months the Council of Blood sent eighteen hundred people
to the scaffold.
There were prosecutions of people for singing one of the
"Beggars' " songs, or for having years before attended a
Calvinistic funeral, or for saying that the new doctrines
would spread to Spain, or for. having uttered the traitorous
sentiment that we ought to obey God rather than man.
Whoever was rich was sure to be executed; for Alba had
promnised his needy master an income of half a million
ducats from the confiscations,  But neither did heretical
cobblers find any more mercy; and when bread was dear,
because of the depression of agriculture and trade, the
bakers were told that if they did not make cheaper bread
they should be hung up before their shops; and such
threats were meant in bitter earnest.
It soon took too much time to take individuals: a great
catch was therefore projected. On Shrove Tuesday, 1568,
a great net was thrown, which enclosed the trifling number
of five hundred innocent people. It often happened that
people were executed without being tried, the machine did




THE FIRST WVARt                 32!
its work in such feverish haste. It was really only an
empty form when, on the I6th February, I568, all the inhabitants of the Netherlands were sentenced to death as
heretics, with a very few exceptions mentioned by name;
for in fact the whole nation stood upon the proscription list.
This kind of government went on for years. The feelings
it gave rise to need not be described. The hatred and
despair were boundless.  But there is a long step from
embitterment and exasperation to the heroic resolve to
stacke everything; these are two different things, which
must not be confounded.  A comrade of Bonaparte's said
that there was no knowing what a nation would endure;
and there is a profound truth in the brutal speech. It was
illustrated in this case. But when the long-pent-up fire did
burst forth, it was certain that it would take generations to
extinguish it.
When this old Frisian blood was once up for the sake of
liberty, when this Low German phlegm was once roused, and
the resolution taken, " etter a drowned country than a lost
country,'' a struggle might be expected which no other
nation can parallel. But the country was not yet come to
this; and William of Orange was mistaken in thinking that
the time had come for revolting against Alba's yoke.
The "Wild Beggars," who roamed the country in troops
as highwaymen, robbing churches and convents, and mutilating Catholic priests, were a fearful symptom of the state
of things occasioned by the universal misery; but they
were not to be relied upon in a resolute defensive struggle.
They only furnished a fresh pretext for the system of the
Council of Blood.
Prince William of Orange had been at once invited to
Brussels,' and as he did not appear, was publicly summoned
to surrender himself. In several proclamations from Dillenburg he had energetically defended himself; but in all he
still made a distinction between the King and his servants
and their measures. Ile had then no idea that he, the
little lord of Dillenburg, would one day wrest from the
haughty Spaniard his fairest possession. He did not yet
think that there was sufficient pretext for a lawful revolt.
The words " Pro lege, rege, grege," were still upon his
banner.
Egmont and Horn were still in prison, and the' game of
their trial was not played out when William made the firsm
21




322   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
attempt at revolt. His brother, Louis of Nassau, entered
Friesland with an army from Emden in the latter half of April,
i568, and turned swamps and marshes to account against
the Spaniards with the same skill as the Germanic tribes
had once done against the Romans, and near the convent
of H eileger Lee, near Groningen, they suffered an entire,d tfeat.
Alba now set out. In order to secure the capital in his
rear, he had the nobles beheaded, who, if he were not successful, would place themselves at the head of a general
insurrection, and join cause with the victorious party in the
east. The executions began early in June. First eighteen
or twenty nobles fell whose trials were in progress, and on
the 5th, Egmont and Horn. Alba then advanced against
Louis's army in Friesland, defeated it twice, till it was
entirely routed, returned to fresh executions at Brussels,
and late in the autumn marched against Orange's army.
He was advancing at the head of thirty thousand German
soldiers, and opened the campaign on the 5th October by
successfully crossing the Meuse. Alba had ten thousand
men less than Orange; a lost battle in Brabant would have
been a misfortune for which nothing could compensate.
Alba did not venture on the perilous attempt, and resolved
to end the war without a battle, which was the safest thing
he could do. The resources of the country were at his disposal; he had money to feed and pay his troops, and therefore he could wait. Orange had German and other soldiers,
who would be likely to mutiny if their pay were in arrears.
Besides, his troops were in a foreign country, were in want
of the means of living, and there was no one to support
them. The- sympathies of the people were with them;
but they were paralyzed by the terror that preceded Alba.
Williamn's troops longed for a decisive engagement; but Alba
always avoided it. His own troops became impatient at the
fatiguing marches they had to undergo without meeting the
enemy; but with his iron discipline he kept them together.
Thus William was manceuvred out of the country. His
soldiers mutinied. In a single engagement which one of
Alba's generals undertook on the 20oth October, without the
aid of the main army, the rebels suffered a sad defeat; and
when a troop of French Huguenots arrived, the German
soldiers, who had only been hired against Alba, refused to
follow their leader to France. So Orange was compelled




DECLINE OF ALBA'S SYSTEM.            323
to retire; and after selling his plate to appease the mutineers, he had to disband his army near Strasburg.
Thus the first campaign failed. Alba's rule was more
firmly establishld than ever, and the only positive result of
the attempt was the death of the two nobles whom it was
intended to rescue.
SUMMIT AND DECLINE OF ALBA'S SYSTEM.
The very worst times for the Netherlands now began.
The executions by fire, water, and sword, and the confiscation of property, were recklessly continued. The victims
numbered many thousands. The number of emigrants
increased in the same proportion, and the product of confiscations reached by degrees the sum of thirty million
dollars.
The ancient privileges of the country were already
annihilated; the population was fearfully diminished; agricultural prosperity was threatened with ruin; commerce was
at an end; the harbours were empty; the shops and warehouses lying waste; numberless industrious hands were idle;
the great businesses were at a standstill; the wealthy trading
cities impoverished; in short, everything that had contributed
to commercial and industrial prosperity began to decay.
Alba had no eye for this fearful retrogression; he was
merely his master's soldier, inaccessible to any idea of
political economy. The treasury at Madrid must have its
millions; the soldier must live; it was nothing to him that
the country at length would be so impoverished that there
would be nothing left for the treasury or the soldier.
It appeared to him that the -mine of wealth in the rich
provinces had not yet been fhully worked, and he projected
a general bleeding, which would cause millions to flow at
one blow, and for ever put an end to the perpetual pecuniary embarrassment. He had early thought of introducing
a tax which existed in Spain, and which has conduced to
that country's ruin; it commended itself' by its simplicity,
and promised a rich result.
He was dissuaded from this project on all sides; his
absurd financial experiments were laughed at at Madrid;
even Viglius found the courage to oppose him, for he knew
that Philip II. was beginning to doubt his great general's
abilities. But Alba persisted; the alcabala yielded him, in




324    TIEH   REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
his own city of Alba, a yearly income of 50,000 ducats,
what might not be Iexpected  from  it in the wealthy
N etherl;a:,ds?
According to the investigations of a commission ap.
pointed for that purpose, the provinces derived an income
from their manufactures of forty-five million gulden; * they
therefore could well bear a heavy tax.
The new tax was proposed to the States at Brussels on
the 21st of March, I569.
It provided that one per cent. should be levied on all
property, movable and immovable, as an extraordinary,
tax; this was called the hundredth penny. That a permanent tax of a twentieth penny, or five per cent., should
be levied on every sale of landed property, and ten per cent.,
or the tenth penny, on all sales of goods. Thus it was a progTessive tax of three different rates, and all three exorbitant.
This decree excited universal alarm. The folly of the
scheme, economically speaking, was only equalled by its
barbarity. To subject a commercial country, which was in
great distress, to a tax of ten per cent. on all its industrial
products, was in fact a fatal blow to commerce. It excited
a storm of bitter exasperation in all the provincial assen-.
blies, such as had not been produced by the edicts and
executions. The province of Utrecht gave the signal for
general resistance; in spite of threats and coercive measures, it proved impracticable to collect the tax, and Alba
had to consent to the compromise that it should be postponed for two years.
In the summer of the following year, a so-called
"amnesty " was proclaimed, which was really a mockery of
the name, but it betrayed a slight vacillation in the Government, and the beginning of dissatisfaction with Alba.
The King's confidence in him was beginning to fail. The
Duke's enemies, Gomez, Perez, and Granvella at their head,
were striving to effect his recall. Viglius, who knew all
about it, importuned the King for an act of clemency, and
on the 14th of July, 1570, a solemn amnesty was proclaimed at Antwerp; it retained all the old punitive Edicts,
and granted no other favour than that those who were not
accused of anything should not be punished, in case, awithin an
appointed time, they penitently prayed for mercy, and obtained
the absolution of the Church.
* Motley.




THE'AMNESTY.                 325
These were the last drops in the already overflowing cup;
nothing remained for the Netherlands but to grasp the
sword, if this absolute lawlessness was not to be perpetuated.
There were armed revolts during the whole period of
Alba's government; it was chiefly by the emigrants that
these attempts were made; there were many thousands of
them on the frontier, and, as is generally the case with political refugees, they formed their judgments on events as they
appeared from a distance, and thought it far easier to overthrow such a power than it really was.
The last acts had excited a state of feeling among the
people which disposed them to a desperate resistance.
They were not easily inflamed; neither the Catholic Flemings and Brabanters, nor the Protestant Frieslanders of the
north, were of sanguinary temperament, and a policy which
wished to discover how much a nation will bear had a comparatively favourable -field for the experiment. It might be
long before a commercial people would resolve upon a
desperate resistance. It was on this point that the emigrants
were continually deceived, and Orange failed in his premature rising in 1568 chiefly because not a single city
opened its gates to him.
But now, under the impression of the continued terrorism, of the mockery of the amnesty, of the prospect of a
fatal system of taxation which threatened ruin to every
household, of the obvious symptoms of incompetence in
the Government, a spirit of desperate resolve had spread
among the people, and they preferred to hasten the end by
terrorism to seeing terrorism without end.
Alba himself had begun to entertain doubts, if not of his
system, of his power to carry it out. His want'of money
was becoming hopeless. The tenth penny was postponed
for two years; when the sums were wanted he brought
forward his scheme again, but he was met in the Council
by open defiance, and by an animosity among the people
that made an impression even upon him. He had scarcely
given orders definitively to levy the tenth and twentieth
pennies on the 31st of July, 157 X, than all shops were
closed, and the bearing of the people in all the provinces
was so threatening, that the Duke, who had never yielded
before, took a'step in retreat, and exempted the necessaries
of life, corn, meat, wine, and beer, from the senseless tax.




326   THE REVOLT OF THE NETIERLANDS.
But this alleviation did not avail. Industry and trade were
at a standstill. A contemporary writer says, " The brewers
would not brew, the bakers would not bake, the tavern.
keepers would not tap their beer.", Alba was enraged, and
would have gone on hanging and strangling, when his atten.
tion was drawn off by the news that the dreaded Sea-Beggars
hand taken Brill on the ist of April, 1572.
All that was done by William and his chivalrous brothers,
Louis, John, and Henry, against Alba by land, was but
little in comparison with what was effected by the SeaBeggars on the sea and the sea-coast. By land, hundreds and thousands had to be spent in collecting the
headless rabble together; when they entered any place, the
mercenary hordes plundered friends and foes alike; and if
it came to a battle, or to what was worse, to tedious manceuvres without a battle, the unpaid hirelings mutinied and
spoiled everything. It was different with the naval warfare
which was carried on by the filibusters of Holland and
Seeland against the "viceroy " Alba. They were no hirelings seeking to make a gain of war, but fugitives from
all the States, who had been driven from house and home
by Alba's executions, and who wanted to re-conquer their
country from the sea; they were real Beggars, men who
had lost all, who had to battle with distress and privation
of every sort, but who gladly braved danger and death to
satiate their revenge. They were formerly a peaceful, seafaring people, dwelling on the coasts, but were now transformed into the fiercest warriors. William had furnished
them with a well-meant organization, but distress and rage
had turned them into cruel corsairs.  They watched for
Spanish ships; made daring attacks upon harbours and
coasting towns. When victorious, they plundered, robbed,
and murdered, and were soon as much- dreaded by their
countrymen as the Spaniards. Eminent men, who had
gained renown in naval affairs, were at their head; their
admiral was the wild William von der Mark.
Under his leadership twenty-four of their ships had taken
Brill, by a successful stratagem, on the ist of April, and
thereby secured a point on the coast from which all the
North, Holiand, and Zealand might be wrested from the
Span iards.
From that day the Spaniards were never really masters
oi the Netherlands; the ablest of their generals, Alexander




WILLIAM'S SECOND CAMPAIGN,            327
of Parma, did not succeed in permanently subjugating the
northern provinces; even the southern part wavered, and
at one time it appeared as if the whole of Burgundy would
be lost to the Spanish Crown.  While all the more important cities of the Island of Walcheren, Holland "a.zd
Zealand, Vlissingen Haarlem, Leyden, Alkmaar, had declared for the Stadtholder, William of Orange, his brother,
Count Louis, had in May succeeded in capturing the
important town of Mons, in Hennegau. William had at
the same time formed another army, with which he at once
advanced to the heart of the Netherlands.
Before all hope had been lost of a diversion against
Alba in the west, by the defeat of Coligny at Moncontour
on the 3rd October, 1569, the prince, disguised as a peasant, had hastened through the enemy's ranks to Gerniany,
to seek aid for the liberation of the Netherlands. More
helpless than ever-Granvella mocked at the vana sine
viribus ira-destitute of means, forsaken by his allies, supposed by many to be dead, entreated by well-meaning
friends at last "to sit still," burdened with a great debt
for arrears of pay, with unshaken confidence he en;tered
upon the unequal contest. tie had lost his lands, his
retainers, and his property, but not his faith in the good
cause. He addressed a circular letter to the princes and
people of the German empire, put a heart-stirring appeal
to his countrymen in circulation,* entreated them to stake
a last venture for the holy cause of freedom, as he had done
himself. And it was not quite in vain; for Alba's terrorism,
and his mad persistence in the tenth penny, had done
their best to gain entrance for William's words.
A new levy of troops was proceeding successfully, when
Holland and Zealand threw off Alba's yoke, and gave themselves a new constitution under William's instructions. The
States of Holland met at Dortrecht on the x5th of July,
and, fired by a spirited address from St. Aldegonde, they
voted to the prince, " as the King's legal Stadtholder in
Holland, Zealand, Frieslald, and Utrecht," the necessary
sums for a fresh campaign, to be raised by taxes, loans,
voluntary contributions, and the alienation of needless
church ornaments. He shortly afterwards appeared with
an army in the field, on the 23rd July took the fortress ol
* Motley.




328   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
Roermonde, crossed the Meuse, found ready entrance into
nany towns and villages, and, full of hope, advanced to
Brussels; his brother was in possession of Mons; he had
received solemn assurances from the King of France that,
as Coligny had also written to him, he would come to the
aid of himself and his brother with I2,ooo  infantry and
3,000 cavalry. "The Netherlanders are free; Alba is in
my hands " he triumphantly exclaimed. Then, like a
flash of lightning out of a clear sky, came the news of the
massacre of St. Bartholomew, and all was over.
Mons had to be sacrificed; a retreat must be made, and
the army disbanded.
But Alba had no longer any pleasure in the Netherlands;
the triumph over the night of St. Bartholomew, scenes of
fearful bloodshed at Mons, Malines, Tergoes, Naarden, and
Haarlem, were his last satisfaction. He was weary of his
trtitless labours as executioner, and asked for his dismissal.
He had prided himself on the icy coldness with which he
braved men's opinions; still, what he now experienced was
enough to dismay even him. He was no longer greeted in
the streets; his former accomplices bade him defiance; he was
met by looks of detestation wherever he went; and when
Philip's ambassador in France came to visit the Netherlands, it seemed to him that he heard but one cry among
the people: "Away with Alba! Away with Alba!"  He
himself wrote to the King: " The hatred' of the people
towards me, on account of the chastisements which, though
with all possible forbearance, I have been compelled to
inflict on them, makes all my efforts of no avail. A
successor will find more sympathy than I, and will be able
to do more good."
Thus he demanded and received his dismissal; not
changed, for he advised his successor to burn all the towns
except those in which he could put a Spanish garrison, but
with the feeling that he was spent-that his part was played
out. On the i8th December, X5 7, he left the Netherlrnds
for evero




CHAPTER XXIV.
fALBA'S SUCCESSORS IN THE NETHERLANDS.
Character of the War which now began.-Requesens y Zuniga, 1573.
76. —Defeat and Death of Louis of Nassau on the Mooker IHaide,
I4th of April, 574. —Siege and Succour of Leyden, 26th of May
to 3rd of October, 1574.-Separation between the Northern and
Southern Provinces,-The Interregnum.-The Great Mutiny of
the Soldiers.-The Pacification of Ghent, 8th of November, 157678.-Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma, I587-89.-The Union
of Utrecht, January, 1579, and Declaration of Independence of the
Seven Northern Provinces, July, x58I.-Murder of William, July
Io, I584.
CHARACTER OF THE WAR WHICH NOW BEGAN.
THE success of the Sea-Beggars at the Brill, although
unimportant in itself, gave the impetus not only to one
of the most fearful wars, but also to one of the most important
revolutions known in history; and in that little fleet of
daring pirates who lived on the plunder of Spanish merchant vessels, and treated their enemies with barbarity for
barbarity, the germ lay concealed of that great maritime
colonial State which, up to the time of the Navigation Act,
was the most powerful in the world; and though it now only
possesses a shadow of its former greatness, it, still belongs
to the naval powers. With this development of a free
political life in a country wrested from the sea, and which
was soon to conquer the finest part of the New World, the
decay of the greatest power of the sixteenth century goes
hand in hand. The revolt of the Netherlands was the open
wound of Spain, which bled and festered to the end of the
century; this was the abyss into which Spain gradually cast
her armies, her wealth, and her fleets, and, in the end, the
despised rebel became free rich, and powerful, and mighty
Spain ws ruined.




330   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
This fact confirms the idea that, had it ndt been for Alba,
the provinces might with but moderate prudence have been
preserved to the Spanish Crown.  It was reserved for Alba
to exasperate a peaceful people to the utmost, to call forth
heroes from a nation of fishermen and shopkeepers, and
to take care that after five years of fearful work as
executioner, no people in the world should be less in a
condition to fight for freedom.
Thus, in I572, a conflict began to which modern history
offers no parallel. A little nation averse to war entered into
an unequal contest with the well-organized, if diminished,
forces of the greatest military power of the age, and pursued
it with unexampled bitterness and determination. From the
first, the struggle was entered into on both sides as a
struggle for life or death; each party looked to celebrating
its victory with the death of its opponent. The character
of the war cannot be better described than in the words
of the letter which William of Orange circulated throughout Christendom, in order to justify the revolt of his people
to the King and to Europe.* He says of Alba, "The
tyrant will dye every river and stream with our blood, and
hang the corpse of a Dutchman on every tree in the country,
before he ceases to slake his revenge and to gloat over our
miseries. We have, therefore, taken up arms against him to
snatch our wives and children from his hands. If he is too
strong for us, we are ready rather to die an honourable death
anti leave a glorious name behind us, than to bow our
necks to the yoke, and to give up our beloved country
to slavery. It is for this that our cities have given their
word to stand any siege-to do their very utmost, to bear
what it is possible for men to bear-even, if need be, to set
fire to their own houses and to perish in the flames, rather
than ever submit to the mandates of this bloodthirsty
hangman."
The contest which followed, in I572-3, bore completely
the stamp of the whole war. There was boundless fanaticism
and devotion on both sides, and a self-sacrificing and despe
rate resolve, combined with a fierce hatred, for which this
phlegmatic people had not before been given credit. Cities
and provinces were sacrificed, fruitful plains were submerged,
if only the enemy perished with them. The people to whom, Motley.




NATIONAL ENTItUSIASM.               33'
William, in the former helpless days, had so often exclaimed,
" Where is your spirit of liberty? Where is your former
bravery?" could now say with pride, "We have shown
that we are worthy of our fathers, and that the old Friesland
blood still flows in our veins." Such traditions as these
keep a nation upright for centuries. This nation has passed
through times of trouble from within and from without, but
it has held up its head through all the storms and vicissitudes of time; and this is the result of the great traditions
which have continually kept in view the price at which
independence has been purchased.
It was amidst this state of things that Alba retired. The
Spaniards and the Netherlanders had never been fond of
each other, and now, it was the harvest of the seed which
Alba had sown that the people were enraged with everything Spanish. The thousands whom since 1568 he had sent
to tie scaffold could not rise up again, but another nation
had arisen over their graves. Alba's cruelty and insane
administration had called forth a spirit which ruined him
and his successors, and with them the kingdom of Spain.
Events in France, and the destruction of the Armada, conduced to it, but it was the war with the Netherlands, which
lasted till the beginning of the sevententh century, which
drained the life-blood of this splendid empire.
REQUESENS Y ZUNIGA. —END OF 1573 TILL MARCH, I576.
-THE BArrLE OF MOOKER HAIDE. - THE SIEGE OF
LEYDEN.
Alba's successor was a distinguished general from among
the higher Spanish nobility-at least equal to Aiba in military prowess, but, what was more, he viewed things in an
entirely different light, and, so far as it was possible in such
a war, was a magnanimous soldier, who could act with the
needful energy without forgetting clemency, and he was
likely to gaih far more victories with his conciliatory
measures than Alba with all his slaughter. So far as a
Spaniard could do so, he perceived that arms and money
were not all that were needed in this war. He wrote to the
King, "Before my arrival, I could not comprehend how
the rebels contrived to maintain fleets so considerable,
while your Majesty could not maintain one; now I see
that hen who are fighting for their lives, their families, their




332   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
property, and their false religion, in short for their own
cause, are content if they only receive rations, without pay."
Even, however, by reason of these views and qualities,
Requesens and Alexander of Parma wvere the most dangerous
enemies of the revolt. As Requesens discontinued the system
of blind terror, and acted with a wise moderation which
still did not look like weakness, he was likely enough to
detach the advocates of a half peace and delusive reconciliation from the common cause, and thus to make
breaches in the ranks of the rebels. It was this that gave
rise to the great anxiety of William of Orange as to the
lulling effect of an amnesty, of which there were now
rumours.
Meanwhile the war with all its horrors continued, by land
and sea, in the open country and before besieged town,
and the new commander began to apprehend the immense
difficulties of his task.
In the early spring of 1574, William and Louis again
appeared at the head of an army of German hirelings,
whose numbers were diminished by desertion at every step.
General Avila advanced to meet them, also mostly with
German troops,* and on the I4th of April a murderous
battle took place on the Mooker Haide, on the Meuse, in
which the army of the patriots was utterly routed. All
was already lost when Count Louis, his brother Henry, and
the Count Palatine, Christopher, rushed into the fray and
met their death in the chivalrous combat. Encouraged by
the fact that the Spaniards had evacuated Walcheren-that
the Beggars were masters of the island, the coast, and the
sea, William had entertained great hopes of this third
expedition. He had thought to overthrow the power of the
new Stadtholder by one blow, and now he had lost his army
and his gallant brothers in one day.
The Spaniards had hitherto always been victorious in the
open country, and now they had gained a victory more
brilliant than any since the revolt began.  But it was
different with the fortified places; the incredible obstinacy
with which they were defended, frustrated all the skill of
the generals and quenched the ardour of the soldiers; and
yet they were by no means imposing fortresses, and the
* The army of the Spaniards in the Netherlands numbered 62,ooo
men, who, with the exception of 8,ooo Spaniards, were partly (-ermans
and partly Walloons.




SIEGE OF LEYDEN.                333
Spaniards, ever since the times of the Romans, had been
masters of the a t of taking and defending cities.
There is notling more glorious than the attitude of the
city of Leyden, under the severest trial to which a city was
ever subjected. It had been relieved from the first siege
by a diversion of Louis of Nassau; but after his death it was
besieged for the second time by the Spaniards on the 26th
May, 1574.
O ange, whose head-quarters were at Delft and Rotterdam, could not, with his troops, encounter the Spaniards
under Valdez in the open country, and he could see no
other hope of holding the faithful city than by inundating
the plain, which must infallibly drive the besiegers away.
Leyden lay in the midst of fruitful gardens, villages, and
country-houses; the harvest was standing in the fields; to
open the dams which protected all this wealth from the
ocean was a tremendous sacrifice, but it was the only possible means of relief. Orange proposed it, and the heroic
inhabitants at once consented. The Spaniards attempted
to gain them by an amnesty. On the 6th June, Valdez
proclaimed, in the name of the King and the Pope, a
pardon for all heretics who would return in penitence to
the Roman Catholic Church. The inhabitants of Leyden,
together with those of all the northern provinces, rejected
the proposal with disdain.  The citizens declared, "We
will fight for God and our liberties to the last man." The
inundations began, the city was ill-provisioned, but with
rigid economy and strict distribution of rations, it would
be possible to hold out till relief was brought from the
advancing sea.
The city had held out three months, and succour had
not come. From a sick bed the prince directed the work
of inundation, and the movements of the Beggars' fleet,
which was to advance to the city with the sea, but contrary
winds and a host of unforeseen obstacles retarded the
advance of the flood. From the towers of Leyden, the
waves were seen slowly coming in-too slowly for the
starving citizens; the provisions were all but exhausted;
dogs, cats, and rats were delicacies; famine and pestilence
raged among the unhappy people; thousands died, but
their courage did not fail; as long as a man was left upon
his legs, they wo'ld not surrender. At length, on the
morning of the 3rd of October, after more than four months




334   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
of indescribable suffering, the sea reached the city walls, the
Spaniards fled in terror, and the martial forms of the SeaBeggars, with the device, "Sooner Turkish than Popish,"
made their entry amidst indescribable rejoicings into the
half-famished city. They went with the rescued people to
the Cathedral to offer their joint prayers and praises to
God; but the singing suddenly came to an end —the vast
congregation had burst into tears.
At the suggestion of William of Orange, the University of
Leyden was founded as a memorial of the heroic courage
and constancy of the citizens.
Requesens could not prevent that, meanwhile, the outline
of a new Protestant State, with Orange for Stadtholder, was
beginning to assume shape. It was connected by a very
slight'bond with the Crown of Spain, to which, however, allegiance was still outwardly owned. Military onslaughts
failed, and negotiations proved fruitless. Orange and his
States insisted on liberty of conscience, and the most Spain
would grant to the heretics was liberty to emigrate; the
patriots demanded the removal of the Spanish troops, and
Spain replied, "Then first disband yours;" the rebels demanded that the States-General should be convoked and
their ancient rights acknowledged, and Spain persisted in
absolutism. Finally, it was impossible to come to any
understanding with an opponent of such  well-known
cunning and faithlessness; they had experienced and could
but expect the most shameful breaches of promise. "We
have not forgotten the words'Agreed,' and' Eternal,"'
Orange once wrote; and at another time he said, "If I have
your word for it, who will answer for it that the King will
not deny it, and be absolved for his breach of faith by the
Pope? "
No reconciliation was therefore to be hoped for in the
north, but in the south the Stadtholder succeeded in inspiring confidence and gaining adherents, which Alba never
could do. The population there was more inclined to
Spain, politically and religiously, and would have been still
more decidedly so had it not been for Alba. In Holland,
Zealand, Friesland, and Utrecht, Protestantism reigned
supreme, and since the revolt, the last traces of Catholicism
nad disappeared. But in the south, heresy had existed only
in isolated cases, and, as it were as an episode, it had taken
no root among the people. The adherents of the old and




DEATH OF REQUESENS.               335
new creeds were here, as everywhere, intolerant and impatient of each other, and in nothing is the greatness of
Orange as a statesman more evident than in the decision
with which from the first he opposed this intolerant spirit
on both sides.
The Walloons, too, were nationally less opposed to the
Spaniards than the Frisians, in whom the Germanic element
predominated, and the southern provinces had been longer
connected with Burgundy and the house of Hapsburg, while
the northern States had been mostly acquired by Charles V.
To them the connection with Spain was something new.
There had not been time for any attachment to the Government to grow up; the Spaniard was hated as an ambitious
alien, since the Reformation as a bigoted Catholic, and
since the accession of Philip II. as a revolutionist, who
wanted to overturn their ancient constitutions and laws.
It was not the Spanish rule that was ancient, but the privileges of the country, and the only connection they would
acknowledge was that with the German empire.
This explains the fact that Requesens, who was not only
a soldier, but enough of a statesman to take account of
these factors, contrived to gain a certain number of adherents in the south. Since he had abolished the " Council
of Blood," and the Government had become more tolerable,
a marked change had taken place in the sentiments of this
deeply depressed people.
But this rendered it only still more difficult to see what
would be the result of the struggle for the future of the
Netherlands.
The position of a skilful general in the prime of life, with
a most efficient force, and the resources of the friendly
provinces at his disposal, supported by the as yet unexhausted means of the Spanish monarchy, was certainly by
no means a hopeless one, confronted by two rebel provinces
which were masters of the sea and the coast, the fortresses
and brave inhabitants of their cities, but which had no
army at their command and not a single foreign ally. But
at this juncture Rsquesens died quite suddenly on the 5th
March,.x576, and this unexpeced circumstance gave events
a new turn.
The Spanish military tactics and policy were deprived
of the man who had given a consistent aim to their
undertaking; it was months before a successor was




336   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
found, and during this interregnum everything was out of
joint.
THE INTERREGNUM.-M-1UTINY OF THE TROOPS. —TH
PACIFICATION OF GHENT.
Requesens' greatest difficulty-and even in the provinces
that were true to him he had never entirely overcome itwas the'burden of the Spanish, Walloon, and German
troops; if not kept in good humour, they were a real
scourge to the peaceable inhabitants. In perpetual pecuniary embarrassment, Requesens had great difficulty in
keeping the troops together. Long absence from home had
made them disorderly; their task as hangmen in Alba's
service had made them brutal, and accustomed to commit
every kind of barbarity unpunished. The army had latterly
shown most portentous symptoms. Since the sudden death of
the Commander-in-Chief, the executive power was in the
greatest confusion; means were wanting either to feed the
troops or to pay them off. It would have been difficult for a
man of the greatest ability to manage them under such circumstances, but there was no one to do it, and a fearful
commotion took place among them. "Ready money or a
city!" the soldiers cried out to the officers who tried to
appease them. Neither could be granted, and so the disbanded hosts rushed upon cities in Flanders and Brabant,
took them by storm, cut down the armed men, ill-treated the
defenceless, and robbed and plundered wherever they could.
The mischief began at Aalst, in Flanders. All the garrisons of the numerous citadels which Charles and Philip
had built, joined in it; disgraceful scenes of rapine, murder,
and plunder occurred everywhere, and worst of all at
Antwerp, which, with its immense wealth, fell into the hands
of German, Walloon, and Spanish mutineers, and was plundered by them during three terrible November days, amidst
scenes of brutality enough to make one's hair stand on end.
This mutiny was a stupendous event; it showed the
southern provinces what the Spanish dominion was, and
what was the value of the peace which had been lulling
them into false security. In the cities in which, following
the example of Brussels, the citizens, with energetic presence
of mind, had taken up arms to defend the domestic hearth,
those same Spaniards were outlawed who had been sum.




THE PACIFICATION OF GHENT.            337
moned to guard the unity of the faith against the rebels.
The north enjoyed some precious months of peace and
time for reflection.  The south, which had considered
itself happy in being spared the devastation which the
north had suffered, now experienced all the horrors of a
wild banditti warfare, and envied the adherents of the new
States in Holland and Zealand, with whom it had again
at least one hatred in common.
Thus it came to pass that the nobles of Flanders and
Brabant met together and sought help, not at Madrid, blut
in the northern provinces; they begged William to help
them to save the country from the outrages of their own
protectors. On the 8th November the pacification of Ghent
was concluded, which first united the Netherlands in a
common bond against the Spanish dominion.
The treaty was signed on the one side by the Prince of
Orange, in the name of the States of Holland and Zealand;
on the other by the representatives of Brabant, Flanders,
Artois, Hennegau, Valenciennes, Lille, Douay, Orchies,
Namur, Tournay, Utrecht, and Mechlin. It was agreed —
I. That there be an amnesty for the past, and a close
alliance for the future.
2. That the Spaniards should be sent out of the Netherlands.
3. That the States-General, as they existed at the time of
the Emperor's abdication, be convoked, to regulate the
religious affairs of Holland and Zealand, and the surrender
of the fortified places.
4. That complete freedom of trade and commerce shall
exist between the two parties.
5. That the placards and edicts against the heretics be
suspended until the decision of the States-General.
6. That the Roman Catholic religion shall not be molested where it exists.
7. That the Prince of Orange remain Stadtholder of
Holland and Zealand until the States-General decide otherwise, after the expulsion of the Spaniards.
From this treaty, so soon as they were in earnest in expelling the Spaniards, there was but a step to complete in
dependence. The whole of Burgundy, the growth of which
Charles V. had regarded with so much affection, seemed to
be on the point of being lost to Spain. An unheard-of
event was taking place: two territories, whose faith, man22




338   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
ners, nationality, and political antecedents were entirely
different, had joined together in a common programme,
and the Prince of Orange was ruling, not the north only, but
the south also.
The danger appeared greater to Spain than it really was
The differences between the two districts were not to disappear all at once. During the calamity of the mutiny in
the summer and autumn of I576, they might be forgotten,
and the help of William of Orange was readily accepted in
distress; but the Catholics of the south still regarded the
Calvinists and Lutherans of the north as heretics and imagebreakers, and the numerous and proud aristocrats of
Flanders and Brabant were not pleased to see the little
Prince of Orange, who had openly seceded froin the
ancient faith, in the place they would fain have occupied
themselves. In short, the Pacification of Ghent was not
a lasting achievement, nor yet a complete solution of the
questions at issue.  Just about the time when the treaty
was concluded, the new Stadtholder appeared in the Netherlands.
DON JOHN OF AUSTRIA, I576-8.
The victor of Lepanto, Don John of Austria, Philip's
half-brother, a brilliant warrior, in the zenith of his fame
and flower of his strength, was possessed of far more ability
than the little-minded monarch; he alone of all the members of the imperial family inherited the vigour of mind and
chivalrous energy which had made Charles V. in his best
days so popular in the Netherlands, and which the melancholy Philip was so entirely without.
With his heroic form, his manly beauty and attractive
grace, and a heart full of bold and enthusiastic dreams, he
was well adapted to eclipse his jealous master, though less
so than if he had brought with him any other means of
solving the complicated problem before him. He did not
approve of Alba's system. He intended to try his fortune
with clemency and conciliation, but it was evident that he.was not magnanimous by nature, but from calculation; there
was a trace of duplicity in his character, of a tendency to
play a double part, which was portentous. He was soon
condemned in the provinces as a doubtful, untrustworthy
character, and in Spain his half measures suggested the idea




DON JOHN OF AUSTRIA.               339
that he might be thinking of establishing an independent
kingdom for himself. It is well known that his sudden and
tragic end was attributed to suspicions against him at the
Escurial.
IHe was somewhat to blame himself. He took a pleasure
in playing with fire; for a time it answered tolerably well,
and then both parties made it impossible. His conduct in
the Netherlands was circumspect, but by no means calculated to awaken confidence.
Before the States acknowledged him as Stadtholder, they
demanded the expulsion of the Spaniards and the acceptance of the Treaty of Ghent, which, according to their
representations, interfered neither with the authority of the
King nor that of the Roman Catholic Church.
Don John gave an evasive answer, and so the States
made an imposing demonstration; they confirmed the Pacification of Ghent by the Union of Brussels, January, 15I7,
and this document was accepted with acclamation by the
people of.all the provinces, Luxemburg excepted, by the
nobles, clergy, and citizens; it received thousands of signatures; there could no longer be any doubt as to the sentiments of the people.
This produced the desired effect.  In February the
Stadtholder published the celebrated edictum perpetuum,
which granted all the demands of the States, the expulsion
of the troops, the toleration of the heretics, the convocation
of the States-General.
There was great rejoicing in the southern provinces; but
in the north they were suspicious, and Orange refused to
join in it. He was convinced that it was a trap for causing
division and snaring the unwary. Tedious negotiations
supervened, during which the nobles of Flanders and
Brabant played a most equivocal part, summoned the
Archduke Matthias of Austria into the country as a counterpoise to Orange, now adhered to and now forsook him,
and the negotiations resulted in a fresh war. The battle of
Gemblours (January, I578) showed the superiority of the
Spaniards in the open country; but Don John despaired of
further success. Broken down in body and mind, distressed
at the evident displeasure of the King, in want of funds,
and forsaken by his troops and allies, on ist October, 1578,
be died.
Suspicions were afloat that he did not die a natural




340   THE REVOLT OF TPh  NETHERLANDS.
death. It was said that he had himself devised suspicious
schemes against the King, in which Philip's favourite and
adviser, Antonio Perez, was implicated. Perez was given
over to the Inquisition, escaped to Aragon, appealed in
vain to the privileges of the country, and fled to France and
England, where in his memoirs he gave vent to his fierce
hatred of the King. His life has recently been compiled
from these materials, and various things brought to light
which must be laid to the King's charge.
ALEXANDER OF PARMA, I578-9.
Don John's successor, Alexander Farnese, Prince of
Parma, the son of the former Stadtholder, Margaret of
Parma, was superior as a general to all his predecessors,
and was at least equal to Requesens in political skill, cool
determination, and self-possessed tact in the management of
men. He was the last great general whom Spain possessed
in the sixteenth century; indeed, he was the last great man
whom Spain produced for a long period. He might fairly
be called a Spaniard, although Italian blood flowed in his
veins; for he had grown up in Spain as the playfellow of
Don Carlos and Don John, who was about the same age;
his education and training were entirely Spanish; and the
only qualities he had inherited from Italy were the mental
vigour, the combination of the supple activity and resolute
will by which the house of Farnese were distinguished.
When Alexander Farnese stepped into the place which
had been filled by the friend of his childhood, the position
of affairs was not very brilliant in Spain, and in the provinces still less so. The Treaty of Ghent was everywhere
disregarded, parties were broken up, the Catholic south was
again at open variance with the Protestant north, and
misery and distress everywhere prevailed.
A phase of the contest began with him which made all
that had previously taken place appear fruitless, and all the
successes of the rebels doubtful. A great general with a
new army, a man sure to awaken all the sympathies of the
south, who kept the troops in order, and who, up to the
point of the unity of the faith, was ready to make certain
reasonable concessions, without Alba's severity or Don
John's duplicity, was likely to increase the difficulties
of the northern provinces, which alone were animated by
the genuine love of liberty in this war.




THE UNION OF UTRECHT.                341
It had become clear that no reliance was to be placed
upon their southern allies, for the nobles in Flanders and
Brabant now followed one leader and now another, and a resolution had therefore been taken that, if it were not possible
to unite the whole of the Netherlands, the best and most
trustworthy parts should be joined in a close alliance.
Accordingly, in I579, Holland and Zealand, Guelders,
Zutphen, Utrecht, Overyssel, and Groningen laid together
in the so-called Union of Utrecht, the foundations of the first
federal constitution which existed in this part of the world,
and which, in spite of its imperfections, lasted a surprisingly
long timle.
The seven provinces bound themselves by a perpetual
alliance to mutual protection against the enemy, and
therefore to contribute to a common military treasury, to
levy and, support an army by general taxation, to establish
a common Diet, and to renounce the right of making separate treaties, as if they were really but one State; but the
internal affairs of every province, city, and corporation, their
ancient rights and privileges, customs and laws, and especially religious matters, were to be left under the control of
each separate State.
These were the simple provisions rather of an offensive
and defensive alliance than of a constitution; and yet it
was out of this union that the constitution of the subsequent
Dutch republic grew.
With a true instinct, the distinction is made between
special and internal and external or general interests, which
has been from this time the great characteristic of every
federal constitution.
The Union of Utrecht was the final step, which could but
be followed by finally throwing off the Spanish yoke. But
this was not yet done. On the contrary, in accordance
wit}: the fiction which had been adopted, this union was
entered into " in the name of the King."  But two years
later the bridge was broken down behind them.
In June, 580o, Philip had proclaimed William of Orange
to be an outlaw and rebel, and had given him up to any
assassin as " an enemy of the human race;' had forbidden
all his subjects to give him food, drink, or fire; and promised twenty-five thousand crowns, immunity from punishment for any crime, and a patent of nobility, to any one who
would deliver him up alive or dead. In July, z58i, fol.




342   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
lowed the revolt of the provinces of Holland and Zealand
from Spain, and after long resistance Orange accepted the
election to the sovereignty of the country.
The brave Frisians were the first to avail themselves of
the right of nations to choose their own form of government, proclaimed by the Jesuits at the Council of Trent.
In the records of it it says, among other things, " Every
one knows that a ruler is ordained by God to protect his
subjects, as a shepherd protects his flock. If, therefore, the
ruler do not do his duty, if he oppress his subjects, destroy
their ancient liberties, and treat them like slaves, he is no
longer to be considered as a ruler, but as a tyrant. As such
the country may justly and reasonably depose him, and
elect another in his place."
The Treaty of Utrecht was the result of urgent distress;
it bore the stamp of an exceptional period; its originators
had no idea of providing for two hundred years, but for
relief from present tyranny; and this explains the imperfections of the scheme. It also explains the monarchical form
which this confederation of republics assumed, and which
was theoretically in contradiction to the constitution. It
was necessary to have a man at the head of the Government
who did not merely share the power of every burgomaster,
but who had the army and fleet and everything else at his
command. No one had any doubt about it, and no one
knew anything of theories about distribution of power.
They were involved in a gigantic struggle with the greatest
monarchy in the world, and with the south probably against
them. In this situation, if every little State acted for itself,
the ruin of all was inevitable.
But the relations of the sovereign-to his federal republic
were curious and contradictory in the extreme. So long as
William of Orange lived there was no irritation, because
with his composure, cool sagacity, and moderation he disarmed all opposition; and this I consider to be his greatest glory. He is not, according to my view, the demi-god
that the Dutch historians make of him. I consider him to
be thoroughly human-possessed of great talents, but also
of great ambition and love of power. His greatest merit is
that he knew how to control these passions, and during the
whole of his administration to appear only as the defender
of his country, without aiming to be the ruler. To a man
of moderate abilities it would be easier to play such a part;




ASSASSINATION OF WILLIAM.            343
but a man of rank, talent, and love of power is easily
tempted to overstep the narrow boundary line. If he does
not do so because he exercises self-control, he withstands
the strongest temptation.
The contradiction could but become more glaring afterwards. There were two constitutions in the country-a
hereditary monarchical dignity on the one hand, and a commercial democracy on the other. There, a military dictator,
who had the command of the army and fle6t, appointed all
the officers, carried on wars, and guided the most important
parts of foreign policy; here, a parliamentary sovereignty,
which was always clashing with the military one. This
could not fail to be a perpetual source of difficulty, and it
gave rise to many a scene of bloodshed in the country.
The contest continued on and off during the seventeenth
century, and lasted till the overthrow of the republic out of
which the Orange monarchy arose.
The Union of Utrecht was the signal for the greater part
of the south to come to an understanding with Parma.
This increased the difficulty of the struggle, especially against
such a general. It went on without any decisive result,
until a Roman Catholic fanatic named Gerard, who had
been aspiring to the honour for seven years, contrived, on
ioth July, I584, to murder William.
Six persons had made the attempt before him, in order to
obtain the reward: only one of them had succeeded in
wounding him. The last obtained access to him under
pretence of being a Calvinistic fugitive, lurked about William's apartments at Delft, and seized a favourable moment
to shoot him. We are assured from Dutch sources that the
Prince's last words were, " 0 God! have mercy upon my
poor people."
The Dutch writers delight in bringing out every great
feature of William's character, and his actions latterly had
certainly shown more devotion to the cause of the provinces than regard for his own supremacy. It did not
yet appear how a crown was to be established in his family.
In Gachard, the record of tedious negotiations is to be
found between Gerard and Madrid about the Prince's
assassination. Negotiations with the assassin's heirs, who
claimed the reward, form the appropriate conclusion. It
was at first refused to them, and then the amount of it
diminished.




344   THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.
William did not die too soon, either for his country or
his fame. The most difficult part of his task was over, and
in his son he had trained a skilful general, who could fill
his father's military office as skilfully as possible. In Spain
the effect of his death was counteracted by the fact that just
at that juncture a change took place in the position of
affairs in Europe. A sort of coalition was formed against
Spain, which gave the Netherlands more scope and breathing time. Philip was occupied principally with the affairs
of France and England until his death. We now return to
France,




PART VI.
RETIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE, UNTIL THE
RESTORATION OF THE KINGDOM BY HENRY IV.*
CHAPTER XXV.
The last War with Spain and England, I557-9.-Defeat at St. Quentin,
1557, and Gravelingen, I558.-Taking of Calais, Peace of Cateau
Cambrasis, 3rd April, I559. —Catharine de Medici and the Government of the Guises.-French Protestantism in Conflict with
the State.-The Clergy, Humanism, the Sorbonne and Parliament.
-First Agitation of the New Doctrines.-Persecution of the
Heretics after I552. —The Aristocracy and the Princes of the Blood
attacked by Calvinism.-The Conspiracy of Amboise, March, 1560.
-Crisis and Change after the Death of King Francis II., 5th December, I560.-Successes of Protestantism, 1559.-La Rdnaudie's
Project.-Condd's Trial.-Catharine de Medici as Regent.
SITUATION OF FRANCE UNDER HENRY II., 1547-59,
AND FRANCIS II., I 559-60.
FRANCE now  first experienced the throes occasioned
1 by the Reformation and Revolution which all other
States, far or near, had already passed through. A period
of forty years of great internal disorder followed, which in
many of its features resembled the Thirty Years' War in Germany, and chiefly differs from it in its final result.
Francis I. was succeeded by his son, Henry II., I54759, whose twelve years' reign was filled by the heritage of
~ S. Thuani, Hist. sui Temporis. London, I733. Davila, Storia
delle Guerre Civili di Francia. x644. Die Memoiren von Vieilleville,
Castelnau, Brantome, Tavannes, Nevers, Villeroi, Mornay, La Tour
d'Auvergne Sully. Michelet, Hist. de France au i6imne Sidcle. 1855.
Schmidt, Gesch. von Frankreich. Hamburg, I839. Ranke, Franuzsische Geschichte, i852. G. Weber, Geschichtliche Darstellung des
Calvinismus. 1836. Soldan, Geschichte des Protestantismus in Frank,
*ich. I85i.. Von Polenz, Geschichte des Franz. Calvinismus. I859.




346    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
his father's foreign policy. First, there were the last wars
against Charles V., in which, for the first time, thanks to the
disorders in Germany, France was successful.  In I552
France succeeded in obtaining possession of the three
bishoprics, and Charles did not regain them in the following
campaign; then the less successful wars with Spain and
England, 1557-9. But even in these, France did not go
anmpty away. The battles of St. Quentin and Gravelingen
were lost, but Calais, the last English possession on French
soil, was conquered, and the Peace of Cateau Cambrasis,
April, I559, did not demand any essential sacrifices from
France.
In the internal prolicy the tendency to strengthen the
royal supremacy continued. There was the same repression
of all representative and corporate elements; the same
system of partly absorbing, partly lulling to sleep, all other
seats of power; the same endeavour, which fortune favoured,
to invest the King with supreme authority as under Francis I.
Henry did not equal his father in talent, but, although much
under female influence, he was an active and competent
ruler. As fate would have it, he received a wound at a
tournament which cost him his life, and then followed the
crisis from which it took France forty years in some measure to recover.
Henry left four sons-a sufficient number, as it appeared,
to secure the succession to the house of Valois for a long
time to come-though they were all children.  Nobody
then knew how frail and weakly they all were, that disease
would prey upon them, nor foresaw that what was not
effected by natural means would be early completed by
mental and moral degradation.  There was a singular
fatality in the family history of this last king of the house of
Valois. He had been married from political motives to the
niece of Clement VII., Catharine de Medici. This ambitious
woman came to France conscious that the marriage was a
political one, mentally a stranger to her husband; and such
she always remained. This placed her from the first in a false
position. The King was influenced by any one rather than
by his wife; and a by no means charming mistress, Diana of
Poitiers, played her part by the side of and above the Queen.
An ambitious, talented  Italian, fond ot power, who.
brought to the throne all the pride of the Medicis, and had
something of the universal political ambition of her relatives




CATHARINE DE MEDICI.              347
Leo X. and Clement VII., and who, as a true daughter of
this house, was not only richly endowed with Italian
cunning, but considered any means allowable if they conduced to the end, deeply imbued with the unscrupulousness
of this Italian school, she saw herself kept for years in the
background, and deprived of all legitimate influence in
public affairs. She could never hope to make conquests by
her feminine charms; her forte was craft and cunning. Such
a character was sure to be dangerous, especially in a country
where she was looked upon as a stranger. She played an
ignominious part at her husband's side, and did not even
obtain the position in her own house which, as the mother
of the princes, was her due.
This explains her restless, feverish ambition.  Having
been for many years restrained and irritated by contumely,
she now broke out with all the more vehemence; it also
explains her feeling of strangeness, and the utter absence of
a consciousness of responsibility for her actions. She had
things on her conscience which it would have been madness
in a native princess to commit. The Massacre of St. Bartholomew was the crime of a woman who forgot that she was
thereby condemning the whole house of Valois. Her success(ul attempt to suffer her children to be ruined in debauchery,
trifling, and childishness, in order to make them subservient
to her, and her neglect to educate them to rule, were the
acts of a princess who was a stranger upon the throne and
in the country.
She was the curse of the house of Valois. She gave the
reins to her demoniacal ambition at the most critical period
for the family, and satiated her Italian revenge upon the
noblest of the nation. Forgetting her duty as mother of
the kings of France, she suffered the last scions of the
house to wither away, and she and her race came to a
miserable end.
IrnInediately after the death of her husband, in i559, she
greedily grasped at power. The young King, Francis II.,
was of age when he entered his fourteenth year. There
could therefore be no legal regency, though there might be
an actual one, for a weakly monarch of sixteen was still
incompetent to govern. But she was thwarted in her first
grasp at power.
Under Francis I., a family previously unknown in French
history had begun to play a prominent part. A successtul




348    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
rich, distinguished nobleman had appeared in Lorraine,
which was still looked upon by the French as a German
territory-Claude de Guise, the son of Rene of Lorraine, a
man who had distinguished himself at Marignano, and later
against Charles V. The great men of France looked down
with contempt upon the upstart house, which had no large
estates, and was not thought much of even in Lorraine.
The Bourbons and Montmorencys especially looked upon
the Guises as a race of insolent upstarts, who had come
from a foreign country to seek at court a position which
they did not find elsewhere, and to thrust aside the bearers
of ancient and meritorious names.
Whatever, however, might be thought of the Guises, it
was certain that they were not wanting in ability. Their
nobility was very ancient, and when they aspired to the
French crown there was no more ancient legitimate race
than theirs. After Francis I. had carried on four unsuccessful wars, Francis of Guise, son of the above-mentioned Claude, had succeeded in occupying Lorraine, won the
three bishoprics, and afterwards defended Metz against
Charles V. with distinguished ability; and the only successful feat in the last campaign against Spain and England, the
taking of Calais, was performed by him. He could proudly
say to the great lords, " Tell me what you, with your ancient
nobility, have done for France. I have done more for her
than all of you put together." One of his brothers, Charles
of Guise, was distinguished for his spirit and boundless ambition. He had entered the ecclesiastical order, and Rome
had early recognised in him a convenient tool. The young
Archbishop of Rheims became Cardinal of Lorraine, played
a leading part at Trent, and was the spokesman and most
able member of the papal party.
The brothers succeeded in bringing about a political
marriage which promised to throw the King, who was mentally a child, entirely into their hands.
Their sister Mary had been married to James V. of
Scotland, whose crown was then rather an insignificant one,
but was now beginning to gain importance. The issue of
this marriage was a charming girl, who was destined for the
King's wife. She was betrothed to him without his consent
when still a child. The young Queen was Mary Stuart.
Her misfortunes, her beauty, a nd her connection with
European history have made her a historical personage,




't'HE CHURCH IN FRANCE.            349
more conspiculous indeed for what she suffered titan for
what she did; her real importance is not commensurate
with the position she occupies.
This, then, was the position of the brothers Guise at.court. The King was the husband of their niece; both
were children in age and mind, and therefore doubly required guidance. The brothers, Francis and Charles, had
the government entirely in their hands; the Duke managed
the army, the Cardinal the finances and foreign affairs.
Two such leaders were the mayors of the palace. The
whole constitution of the court reminds us of the roil
faine'ants and the office of major-domo under the Carlovingians.
Thus, just when Catharine was about to take advantage
of a favourable moment, she saw herself once more eclipsed
and thrust aside, and that by insolent upstarts of whom
one thing only was certain, that they possessed unusual
talents, and that their consciences were elastic in the choice
of means.
It was not only from Catharine that the supremacy of
the Guises met with violent opposition, but also from Protestantism, the importance of which was greatly increasing
in France.
FRENCH PROTESTANTISM IN CONFLICT WITH THE STATE.
France had not been unaffected by the violent storm
which Luther's appearance had called forth, but the way in
which the new teaching had to fight its way here was very
different from the reception it had met with in Germany.
The fact that the Franciscan monk, Michael Menot, who,
in the same year and for the same reason as Luther, opposed
the sale of indulgences, died almost unnoticed, proves that
we are in a different world.
The ancient Church of France was not in less need of
reform than the Church elsewhere.  Impartial witnesses
agree in stating that the clergy were fearfully demoralised.
At the time when, in accordance with the Pragmatic
Sanction, the ecclesiastics elected the prelates, there were
bitter complaints of the unscrupulousness of their choice,
and the incredible dissoluteness of the bishops elected; and
when, after the Concordat of 15I6, the King made the
appointments to the hundred and six bishoprics, fourteen
archbishoprics, and the abbacies and priories, outside ob



350    THE RELIGIOUS ~WAR.S IN FRANCE.
servers were struck with the shameless tramice whichn the
Crown made with these places, just as if they had been
bargains about "pepper and cinnamon," with the gifts of
benefices to diplomatists, learned men, deserving and undeserving, courtiers and soldiers, with all the inevitable
demnoralising consequences of such a distribution of the
office of spiritual shepherd.
It was, as is well known, the Humanists who first pointed
out the decline of the clergy. The Humanists were no
strangers to France. Itbecame almost asecond home to them;
and it is a singular fact that the same King, Francis I., who
in his own country pitilessly burnt heretics in slow fires, gave
his hand to the German heretics to oppose Charles V., and
might be justly styled by his learned proteges "' The father
of learning."
From the beginning of his reign Francis I. had attracted
learned men, both native and foreign, who inclined to the
new tendencies, to his court, and attached them to his
service by conferring on them temporal offices and spiritual
benefices; a great " Collbge des Trois Langues," with double
professorships for Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, was to make
Paris a centre of Humanistic learning as it had once been
of mediaeval scholasticism; and if the scheme was not carried
out in its original magnificence, the school of heretical languages which was founded,'and from which such men as
Turnebus. Lambin, Du Chesne, and Petrus Ramus were to
go forth, indicated a breach with the past, and kept up a perpetual irritation with the followers of the old system.
This old system was a unity; scholasticism and the
mediaeval Church hung together. The Sorbonne felt this,
and looked askance at the brilliance of its Humanistic rival,
as did also the Parliament, to the orthodox jurists of which
the heretics appeared as political criminals.
These two old organs of France were more consistent
than the King in jealously guarding the rights of ancient
usage. The learned gentlemen of the Sorbonne spoke
of Greek and Hebrew  like the German monks, who
talked of the newly-invented language of a so-called New
Testament, and roundly asserted that whoever learnt Hebrew
must become a Jew.  The most zealous fanatics among
them, therefore, such as Natalis Beda, summoned the pro.
fessors before Parliament, and demanded that they should
not be permitted to expound the Vulgate without passing a




FRANCIS I. AND THE HERETICS.             351
theological examination, in order that no more might be
heard of that heretical mode of speaking, "So says the
Hebrew or Greek text;" and the faculty acted in this spirit
when, their opinion being asked about the Lutheran controversy, they decided that Luther's teaching mnust be utterly
exterminated, his writings publicly given to the flames, and
the author be compelled by every lawful means solemnly to
recant his heresies.
The Sorbonne repeatedly and urgently demanded a strict
and relentless conscience police for all France, but Francis I.
was at first quite indifferent about it. The appearance of a
few isolated heretical preachers and authors, such as Lefevre,
Berguin, Farel, Mazurier, Brigonnet, the establishment of a
reformed congregation at Meaux under the leadership of an
eloquent wool-comber, Leclerc (afterwards burnt with cruel
torments at Metz), were not circumstances which seemed to
him to justify exceptional measures.
But it was different after his return from the Spanish
imprisonment which the lost battle of Pavia, in 1525, had
inflicted on him.
Pope Clement VII. had taken care to explain to the humbled
monarch that the heretics were political criminals who abolished all class distinctions, incited the lowest classes to rebellion, and would overturn royal authority itself. Parliament
attributed his misfortunes to his lukewarmness against the
heretics. Now, therefore, many executions followed, and in
1535 there was a bloody persecution; in I543 he issued,
in two edicts from Fontainebleau, the most stringent measures against the heretics as "disturbers of the public
peace, rebels against the King and justice, conspirators
against the prosperity of the State, which was specially
dependent on the maintenance of the purity of the Catholic
faith." This was followed by the proclamation of twentyfive articles of faith, drawn up by the Sorbonne, in order
that every one of his Majesty's subjects might know what
he was to believe and hold as true, unless he desired to
come into contact with the avenging arm of Parliament.
The policy which rendered an occasional flirtation with
the German Protestants, and active interference in the
German troubles, desirable, (lid not, of course, alter this
attitude. Henry II. proceeded exactly like Francis I., and
the Guises kept him firmly to this course.
Henry went farther with the German Protestants than




352      tHE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
Francis, but the persecutions and executions of the nalive
heretics increased; and now under Francis II., when the
brothers Francis and Charles of Guise were all-powerful,
France was under a system in religious matters which was
really identical with that of Philip II. and Alba.  But
meanwhile French Protestantism, thanks to the folly of its
persecutors, gained in the number and importance of its
followers.  1 he system of persecution had been submitted
to as to inevitable destiny under Francis I. and Henry Il.,
but it could not be so easily forgiven from foreign ministers,
and the all-powerful favourites who had usurped the government; from them it was felt to be a gross injustice, and the
more so as the heresy was no longer confined to poor
artisans at Meaux or Metz, or isolated learned sects, but
was become a power which began to influence the best and
most independent grades of society.
Since Calvin had built up the citadel of French Protestantism in the neighbouring Geneva, and year by year
received his fugitive brethren in the faith, to send them
back as well-instructed apostles, the Propaganda of the new
teaching was organized. The strictly systematic character
of Calvinism was well adapted to find acceptance with this
nation. The democratic and republican tendencies also of
this ecclesiastical commonwealth was attractive as a counterpoise to the all-devouring monarchical absolutism.
Thus Protestantism had become a party which did not,
like Lutheranism in Germany, spring up from  the depths,
had its seat and main support among the masses, and then
rose higher; but it numbered its chief adherents among
the middle and upper grades of society, spread its roots
rather among the nobles than the citizens, and among
learned men and families of distinction rather than among
the people. A Calvinistic school had been developed of
strict, serious, almost gloomy personages, in whom the light
French character seemed to be almost extinguished, whose
conduct was irreproachable, whose views of life were full
of priestly exclusiveness, and who formed a moral opposition
to the licentiousness of the luxurious court life which
Francis I. had encouraged.  Men like Coligny, D'AubignC,
and Sully, were distinguished characters, cut as it were from
one block-men of unimpeachable morals, great earnestness,
and unyielding energy.
Then there was another thing: some of the highest




THE CONSPIRACY OF AMBOISE.            353
aristocracy, who were discontented, and submitted unwillingly to the supremacy of the Guises, had joined the
Calvinistic opposition-some undoubtedly from policy, others
from conviction. The Turennes, the Rohans, and Soubises,
pure nobles, who addressed the King as "mon cousin,"
especially the Bourbons, the agnates of the royal house,
had adopted the new faith.
A son of St. Louis had married Beatrice, the heiress of
the earldom of Bourbon, and the Bourbon territory had
devolved upon him. This branch had divided into two
smaller branches, one of which had died out with the constable, the other was represented by Antoine and Louis.
The elder brother had married the heiress of Beam and
Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret, an earnest, powerful, heroic
woman, and from this marriage sprang Henry IV. The
younger brother was of light French blood, a true French
cavalier, with none too much of religious fervour. Jeanne
was a zealous Calvinist, her husband from policy agreed with
her, and Louis of CondU joined the same party, for it lent
him a powerful weapon against the Guises.
After France had long been ruled by kings who really
reigned and interfered personally with effect, she now had over
her a weakly prince, influenced by powerful families, over
the unhappy royal house a mother like Catharine de Medici,
and for the first time for a long period there were powerful
religious and political parties closely intermingled in opposition to the Throne. Protestantism united with the discontented elements among the highest nobles; the might
and majesty of the kingdom were greatly decreased; vast
debts had accumulated under the late governments; without the States, recovery was impossible. These elements in
some degree explain the great convulsions which followed.
THE CONSPIRACY OF AMBOISE, MARCH, 1560.-CRISIS
AND CHANGE AFTER THE DEATH OF THE KING.
In the time of Henry II., in spite of all the edicts and
executions, Protestantism  had made great progress. The
Parisian Parliament was no longer the Inquisition of former
days; the chambers were divided; the great chamber passed
sentences of death, in accordance with the royal edicts,
while the Tournelie, as it was called, first warned, and
then, amidst heretical discussions, only passed sentence of
banishment at the worst. One of the ministers, Anne du
23




354    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
Bourg, who afterwards paid for it with his life, zealously
took the part of the heretics in the King's presence. lIe
asked for proofs of the accusation that the heretics, in
whose mouths the name of the King was never heard except
to pray for and bless him, were traitors who wished to
dethrone him, while all their guilt consisted in the courage
with which they demanded the abolition of the crying
abuses in the ancient Church.  "Surely," he said in
conclusion, "it is no light thing to condemn to death
people who call upon Jesus in the midst of the flames."
About the same period, in the spring of I559, interdicted
Protestantism had secretly reviewed its congregations, and
at the first national synod drawn up a confession of faith
and a constitution for the new Church.  Preachers and
elders had appeared from every part of France, and their
eighty articles of 28th May, 1559, have become the code of
laws of French Protestantism. The Calvinistic principle of
the Congregational Church, with choice of its own minister,
deacons, and elders; a consistory which maintained strict
discipline in matters of faith and morals, and in extreme
cases inflicted excommunication-that is, exclusion from the
sacraments-was established upon French soil, and was
afterwards publicly accepted by the whole party.
The more adherents this party gained in the upper circles,
the bolder was its attitude; there was, indeed, no end to the
executions, or to the edicts against heresy, but a spirit of
opposition, previously unknown, had gradually gained
ground. Prisoners were set free, the condemned were
rescued from the hands of the executioners on the way to
the scaffold, and a plan was devised among the numerous
fugitives in foreign lands for producing a turn in the course
of events by violent means.
La Re'naudie, a reformed nobleman from Perigord, who
had sworn vengeance on the Guises for the execution of his
brother, had, with a number of other persons of his own
way of thinking, formed a plan for attacking the Guises,
carrying off the King, and placing him under-the guardianship of the Bourbon agnates. If the King required a regent,
the princes of the blood alone had a right to the office;
with them there would be a native Government; the nobles
and the new religion would obtain redress.
The project was betrayed; the Guises succeeded in
placing the King in security in the Castle of Amboise;




DEATH OF FRAlNCIS IX.             355
a number of the conspirators were seized, another troop
overpowered and dispersed on their attack upon the castle
on the 17th of March, I560; some were killed, some taken
prisoners and at once executed.
It was then discovered, or pretended, that the youngest
of the Bourbon princes, Louis of Conde, was implicated in
the conspiracy. It is not known to this day how far this
was true, but it is certain that had the project succeeded it
would have been very agreeable to him, and that he was
thoughtless enough to make it not improbable.  The
Guises now ventured, in contempt of French historical traditions, to imprison this prince of the blood, this agnate of
the reigning house; to summon him before an arbitrary
tribunal of partisans, and to condemn him to death,
November, I56o. If the King had done this, if his guilt
had been proved, it would not have been an unusual, nor,
according to the notions of justice of that age, an illegal
proceeding. But this was quite another thing; his guilt was
not proved, and the trial itself, instituted by two foreigners
against one of the princes of the blood, was in the highest
degree informal.
This affair kept all France in suspense. All the nobles,
although strongly infected with Huguenot ideas, were on
Conde's side; even those who condemned his religious
opinions made his cause their own. They justly thought
that if he fell, none of them would be safe.
In the midst of this ferment, destiny interposed.
On the 5th of December, 156o, Francis II. died suddenly, and a complete change took place. His death put an
end to a network of intrigues, which aimed at knocking the
rebellion, political and religious, on the head. The States
had been convoked at Orleans, in order to relieve the
pecuniary embarrassments of the Crown. It was intended,
also, with the aid of a numerous military force, to extirpate
heresy, or at least to render harmless the most influential of
its adherents. Every member was to swear allegiance to
the articles drawn up by the Sorbonne in 1542, and
whoever refused was to forfeit life and property.  All
this was in progress; the most suspicious representatives
were secured when the King died.
During this confusion one individual had been watching
the course of events with the eagerness of a beast ready
to seize on its prey. Catharine of Medici was convinced




356    THE  RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
that the time of her dominion had at length arrived. Her
life had been ruled by one idea-that of ruling herself;
whatever stood in her way was hateful to her, and she was
enough of ar. Italian to shrink from no means to give vent
to her hatred. She hated the Guises because they had
taken the government out of her hands; the Condds' party
was compromised by the proceedings of Amboise and the
trial, and between the contending parties she hoped to step
in as the guiding power. She was thoroughly adapted to
play the part which required an intriguing spirit, Italian
cunning and cold blood, in the choice of means. But she
was not equal to great political actions.
Francis II. was scarcely dead when she seized upon the
person and the power of Charles IX. He was a boy of ten
years old, not more promising than his eldest brother,
sickly and weakly like all the sons of Henry II., more
attached to his mother than the others, and he had been
neglected by the Guises.
Immediately on the death of her eldest son, the mother
stepped forward as the guardian and regent of her second,
though both titles were carefully avoided.  The sudden
death of Francis had overthrown the dominion of the
Guises.
But she would not have been able to possess herself of
power without assistance from various quarters; she needed
especially the support of the high aristocracy, of the princes
of the blood, who hated the Guises, but still demanded
that they should have a share in the government; she
therefore came to an understanding with them, particularly
with Antoine of Navarre, and she could not do this
without making concessions.
One of her first acts was to liberate Cond6; this was
a decided step towards reconciliation with the Bourbons
and the Protestants. The whole situation was all at once
changed.  The court was ruled by Catharine; her feverish
thirst for power was satisfied. The Guises and their adherents were, indeed, permitted to remain in their offices
and posts of honour, in order not fatally to offend them;
but their supremacy was destroyed, and the new power was
based upon the Queen's understandilg with the heads of
the Huguenot party.




CHAPTER XXVI.
CHARL   Ix., 1560-74, AND THE HUGUENOTS,
UNTIL 1570.
Ite First Compromise with the Reform Party.-The States of the
Empire at Orleans, I560-6I.- The Discussion on Religion ai
Poissy, Autumn, I56I.-The Edict of I7th January, I562.-The
Three First Religious Wars, I562-70.-Thle Massacre at Vassy,
March, 1562.-Character of the Civil War.-The First Religious
War.-Battle of St. Dreux. December, I562.-Edict of Aniboise,
March, I563.-The Second Religious War, 1567-8.-The Edict
of Longjumeaux, March, I568. —The Third Religious War,
S569-7o.-Victories of the Catholics at Jarnac and Moncontour.Religious Peace of St. Germain-en-Laye, August, 570. —Cha.
racter of Charles IX.
THE FIRST  COMPROMISE WITH  THE  REFORM  PARTY.THE STATES OF THE EMPIRE AT ORLEANS, 1560-6I.
-THE DISCUSSION ON RELIGION AT POISSY, AUTUMN,
x56I.-THE EDICT OF JANUARY, I562.
W.   HILE  this change was taking place, the States assembled at Orleans were discussing two important
questions which had been left unsolved for the young King
by his predecessors: the relief of the financial necessities
of the Crown, which were so great that the Chancellor
l'H6pital, as he said publicly, could not speak of them
without tears; and the deliverance of the Church from ruin
and schism.
The clergy, the nobles, and the third estate were agreed
that on this latter point something decisive must be (lone;
but on the question, what? their views diverged. The clergy
demanded the liberties of which the concordat had deprived
them, and the extermination of heresy; the nobles were
divided into the strictly orthodox party and the moderate
reformers; while the third estate was just as decided in




358    THE RELIGIOUS'WARS If FRANCE.
demanding amelioration of the feudal laws, legal protection
for and care of the common people, abolition of the persecutions for heresy, and the convocation of a General
Council. In complaints about the decline of morality and
education among the clergy, the third estate and the nobles
were entirely agreed.
It was clear that the Government must adopt some
attitude with regard to the great question, and that it could
not return to the policy of the Guises at pleasure,
Protestantism had become a power which demanded the
gravest consideration; it no longer numbered only a handful of obscure sectaries, but a large part of the nation, and
some of the most highly educated and wealthy personages
were among its ranks.
The number of the Huguenot congregations was already,eckonedl at two thousand. Protestantism prevailed in whole
i!istricts-in Normandy, the whole south-west of France,
-tici ent Aquitaine, Guienne, the Cevennes, some parts on
the Spanish frontier, Languedoc, Dauphine; in large cities
such as Orleans, Bordeaux, Lyons; in Paris itself it was
producing a great ferment; and in Navarre, Jeanne D'Albret,
Whe most zealous friend of Calvinism, was reigning. Many
thousands among the nobles, of the citizens and  the
peasantry, had adopted the new faith.
A representation which was made to the Pope by the
moderate party among the prelates, in the autumn of 156I,
states that a fourth (the Reformers said half) of the
whole population of the empire was estranged from the
Church, and that this fourth consisted of nobles, learned
men, wealthy citizens, and those among the lower classes
who had seen the world and could bear armns. With so
man y noblemen, and old, well-disciplined troops, there was
no lack of strength, judgment, or education-for threefourths of the men of learning belonged to them; there was
no lack of money among the nobles and merchants; and
there was, besides, so much unity and determination, that
there could be no hope of converting them by force, without
inflicting a wound on the nation from which it would take
it half a century to recover. Nothing, in fact, was accomplished against a party who possessed this moral and material power by burning books and men. Either a tremendous conflict must be encountered, which would perhaps
turn to the advantage of some foreign power, or concessions




THE EDICT OF ST. GERMAIN.            359
must be made. These they were now almost disposed to
grant.
Catharine was certainly not influenced in this by religious
opinions.  There was never the least evidence that she
leaned to one side or the other. She was a Catholic outwardly; as a Medici, a relation of two popes, she had never
learned to be anything else. Protestantism, with its Calvinistic strictness, could be as little congenial to her frivolous
views of life as its democratic tendencies to her ambition.
But she knew how to wear the colours that were in vogue,
and to change them  when occasion arose.  The same
person who instigated the Massacre of St. Bartholomew
could issue edicts of toleration, and soon after the mnassacre
tolerate the Protestants again.
The first complaints of the Reformers were answered by
an edict, by which all the imprisoned heretics were released,
but warned to mend their ways.  An attempt was then
to be made to settle the controversy by a discussion on
religion at Poissy. This took place in the autumn of 156I.
Calvin's most talented pupil, Theodore Beza, measured his
strength with the Cardinal of Lorraine, Charles of Guise,
as the representative of the French prelates.
The bri!liant eloquence of Beza, who, like most of the
Calvinistic preachers, was not only a theologian but a
polished man of the world, distinguished him greatly from
the average theologians of the day. There was nothing of
the ordinary sectary about him; he behaved with perfect
courtesy; he made some impression on the court. It was
seen that these were people with whom intercourse might
be held, though no closer approach was to be thought of.
An edict had been issued in July, which pleased neither
party, and gave so much dissatisfaction that it was not proclaimed in a single French town except Paris, while the
services were openly continued and the communion celebrated. A moderate edict of toleration was then tried.
On the 17th of January, 1562, the Edict of St. Germain
was issued, by which the policy which had been pursued for
forty years, of suFp orting the Protestants abroad and persecuting them at home, was given up.
The Protestants were forbidden to possess any churches
of their own; they were to give up those they had, and
neither to buy nor build others. On the other hand, they
were permitted, until further notice, to hold their services




360    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
outside the towns, unarmed, by day, and the police were to
protect them. They were to observe the laws of the State
and the festivals of fhe Romish Church; were not to hold
any consistories or synods without consent of the higher
powers; to make no statutes, to organize no troops either
for offensive or defensive warfare, and to raise no taxes
anlong themselves.  All the Reformers were to take an
oath to teach only in accordance with the Scriptures, and
not to neglect the mass and similar institutions, &c.
It was but a very limited amount of toleration; still it
was a great change when it was considered that in practice
the edicts had not been carried out to the letter, and in very
important respects all legal ground for persecution was
removed.  If Calvinism  had made astonishing progress
when it was proscribed, what might not be expected when
it was permitted?  "If," wrote Calvin, "the liberty pro.
mised us in the edicts lasts, the Papacy will fall to the
ground of itself."
One thing was certain, that if the Reformers did not wish
to lose everything, they must submit to the edict, even if it
was in some respects harsh. Beza justly felt this, for he
enjoined strict obedience on all the communities. But the
disturbance of the peace came from the other side.
Catharine's wish to come to some terms with the heretics,
without breaking with the Pope and Philip II., was not
enough to put an end to the spirit of persecution which had
been fostered by the traditions of forty years. The posts of
authority in most of the cities, and especially in the Parisian
Parliament, were occupied by Catholics; the people could
not all at once accustom themselves to acknowledge as
legal the services which they had hitherto scoffed at and
molested, especially since it was said that the Queen was
not in earnest, and had only made a sacrifice to policy.
Causes of irritation and disputes arose, and the Queen
showed little disposition to interfere.
THE THREE FIRST RELIGIOUS WARS.-THE MASSACRE AT
VASSY, MARCH, I562, TO THE RELIGIOUS PEACE 0F
ST. GERMAIN, AUGUST, I570.
Meanwhile an unheard-of violation of the January Edict
took place. On Sunday morning, Ist of March, I562, the
brothers Gu;se, with a suite of two hundred armed nobles and




THE FIRST WAR.                  361
soldiers, entered the little townl of Vassy as the Protestants
were assembling for worship in a. barn. The preaching had
begun, when some of the Duke's followers rushed in, disturbed the worship, and made an uproar. Of course the
congregation tried to defend themselves. The armed men
then attacked them in a mass, and the defenceless people
were shot or cut down with sabres, the rest dispersed, and
their houses plundered.
The news of the massacre of Vassy flew through
France.  It was universally believed that it was a premeditated and most mischievous breach of the treaty, and
there is nothing in history to refute it. The Duke said, in
self-justification, that he sent two'of his people into the
barn to reprove the heretics for their disobedience; but this
constituted a breach of the peace. The Guises wished for
a conflict as a means of regaining their power, and they
had their wish, for the massacre was the signal for the first
civil war.
Thus began those fearful wars which lasted from this time
to the reign of Henry IV., and they comprised everything that
can make war horrible-religious and political fanaticism,
interference from abroad, wild passions of every sort, and
that fearful hatred by which two contending parties who
are related are generally animated. In their horrors, in the
European sympathy they elicited, in their course, these wars
remind us of the great German war; only that in this case a
man appeared who, supported by the monarchical inclina.
tions of the nation, in a few years restored its ancient glory
to the kingdom, its lost unity to the nation. But the conflict
was terrible; the desolation of whole neighbourhoods, the
massacre of whole populations, has given it a horrible immortality. It seems to me that there is a certain ferocity in
the French nation, which, when the external polish is once
rubbed off, breaks out with a boundless recklessness which
is not found among other civilised nations. This was the
case now, as well as in the great political Revolution of
1789. Other nations have experienced the horrors of reli.
gious and political wars, but history presents no other
instance of the refinements of cruelty which were practised
in France in 1793.
Hostilities began with the petty warfare of parties in
cities and districts; at Paris, Sens, Toulouse, Rouen, and
other places, the Catholics fell upon their Protestant fellow.




362    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
citizens, destroyed their houses of prayer, and murdered
those who fell into their power. The Huguenots then threw
themselves upon the Catholic churches, destroyed images,
altars, and censers-in short, everything that belonged to
Catholic worship.  Thus image-breaking and bloodshed
raged for weeks in the fairest districts of France before the
hostile armies faced each other. When these at length-one
under Guise, the other under Coligny-were set in motion,
nothing but skirmishes and devastation of the enemy's coui.
try took place at first; no decisive action. But it became
clearer and clearer that the Huguenots, who lost one town
after another, and whose lack of money was ever increasing,
were decidedly at a disadvantage in conflict with the growing power of the Guises. They lost the battle of St. Dreux,
December, 1562; but, on the other hand, their adversary's
most able general, the Duke of Guise, was assassinated by
a Huguenot nobleman, I8th of February, I563, and with
him the greatest obstacle to the attempts at mediation
which Catharine had been making was removed.They had been tearing each other to pieces for months;
the Protestant minority had not been able to vanquish the
majority, which had foreign aid, but neither had the majority
been able to exterminate the heretics. If the fanaticism of
the Catholics demanded the sacrifice of thousands one day,
it was balanced by the thousands that fell a sacrifice to the revenge of their adversaries the next. At length they desisted
from this murderous work, not because they were reconciled,
but exhausted, and saw that a truce was necessary. Precisely
a year after the massacre of Vassy a new edict was issued
at Amboise, which went a step farther than that of 1562.
The Reformers were granted liberty of conscience, an
amnesty for the past, and were promised undisturbed enjoyment of their property, honours, and offices. The celebration of divine service was regulated as follows: to the barons
and all the lords invested with superior jurisdiction, was
granted the right to hold services at their chateaux for
themselves and their retainers; to the inferior nobles, only for
themselves; in every official district a town was appointed,
in the suburbs of which Reformed service might be held;
Paris always excepted.
The edict greatly favoured the superior nobility, but
was very disadvantageous to the cities; for them, through
the limitation of permission to hold service to one town in




THE SECOND AND THIRD WARS.             363
a district, as Ccligny said, more churches were annihilated
by a stroke of the pen than had been destroyed by all the
inimical powers at work for ten years before.
It was not long before this edict was infringed, for
neither party was disposed to abide by it; the Catholic
majority saw in it only a false peace concluded insincerely
by the Crown, and the Calvinists would not give up the
hope of some day attaining power in France. The number
of their adherents was continually increasing, and their
propaganda pursued its course.
It came to a second religious war, which ended, like the
first, without any decision in i567-8; and, as they again
left off fighting from exhaustion, the Edict of Longjumeaux
was issued, 23rd of March, 1568, which in essentials confirmed the previous one.
In  569 the war began again. I will not relate the history
of it in detail, but will confine myself to the decisive actions.
Other things remained as they were; the Catholics maintained their supremacy, but the Protestants could not be
exterminated.
It was one of Coligny's merits that though often beaten
he never quitted the field, and always managed to secure an
honourable position for the Protestants.
The third war, which was principally caused by the
reaction of events in the Netherlands, and by the report
that Alba had decided with the Queen Mother upon striking
a blow at the Protestants in France, similar to the one he
was aiming at the heretics in the Netherlands, was decided
by the defeat of the Huguenots at Jarnac, where Cond6 and
Moncontour fell, and ended by the Peace of St. Germainen-Laye, August, I570, which irrevocably confirmed the
previous concessions, and added that in every district two
places should be granted for the celebration of Protestant
worship; but they were mostly small towns, and it was only
in the suburbs of them; and that in all towns the Reformed
service should remain as it had been up to the Ist of
August. The Huguenots of every age were acknowledged
as faithful subjects and servants, with a complete amnesty;
their rights were acknowledged as equal to those of the
Catholics, and a law of recusance was granted them, to
defend them from the Catholic Parliament.
- The four cities of La Rochelle, Montauban, Cognac, La
Charit4, were granted to the Reformers as places of refilge,




364    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
under an oath that after two years they should be restored
to the King.
Eight years had passed in fearful conflicts, every one of
which increased the need of toleration, and the stability of
the nation had been greatly shaken by it. The court, the
nobles, the people, were split up into parties; there was, as
it were, a yawning chasm between the different parts of the
nation; in some parts of the country it had become impossible for people of the two creeds to live together, so
sharp had been the controversy, and so irreconcilably were
men's minds divided. As may be imagined, France suffered
severely from this; the great monarchy which had interposed
with so much effect in European affairs, under Henry II.,
was sadly lamed. The kingdom was rent wide as the poles
asunder. Edicts of toleration were issued in its name and
violated, peace proclaimed and broken, cruelty practised
and revenged.
All this could not fail to have a fearfully demoralising
effect upon the mind of the nation; and, above all, on the
character of a prince who had grown up from boyhood to
youth amid such scenes, not gifted with talent or selfcontrol, and but a plaything between his mother, the
Guises, and the Huguenot leaders.
Charles IX., loaded with the curse of the Massacre of St.
Bartholomew, was afterwards regarded in France as the
type of a degenerate king; and in the ninth decade of the
last century, when the storm raged against monarchy, this
inhuman prince was often alluded to, who himself fired at
his fugitive subjects. Yet this picture is not precisely true.
This youth, now twenty years of age, was more to be
pitied than blamed. It was a most tragic bit of human life
which was played out within narrow limits, but he cannot
be made alone or even chiefly responsible for it. Weakly
from childhood, so brought up by his mother that he could
never be independent, his mental growth was stunted-he
grew up more coarse, uncultivated, and ignorant than any
nobleman's son of his time. At this most critical period he
received not the slightest training for his calling. He was
addicted to childish sports, sat in the workshop and made
locks, and these trivial tastes were purposely fostered by
his mother, for a youth whose time was thus spent was not
likely to be dangerous to her.
He had never had any more lofty aspirations. The




CHARACTER OF CHARLES IX.              365
healthy influence of a happy family life was wanting to him;
there was not a single being about him who could raise him
morally; the merry games of real childhood or the pleasures
of learning in advancing youth were unknown to him; he
had not even the salutary influence of knowledge of some
one subject, which would at any rate have occupied his
mind.
WVith all this, combined with a sickly body totally destitute of youthful vigour, he was not likely to feel any impulse to break these contemptible fetters and begin an
independent life. He readily allowed himself to be seduced
ir.to excesses purposely placed in his way, in order that his
remaining energies might be quenched; he allowed himself
to be persuaded into one act to-day, another to-morrow;
there was no one about him calculated to give him confidence in himself or others.
And it was upon this individual that enormous responsibility was thrown, in a situation of which a superior
character would have found it difficult to solve the complications. He who takes all this into account will not be
surprised at the result, and will be disposed to agree in my
lenient estimate of his guilt.
The view which stamps him as a hardened wretch, and
makes it appear that he himself instigated the horrid deed,
is psychologically exaggerated. So weak a creature could
not have been so early and so deeply debased. It is impossible to imagine him harbouring a consuming hatred for
years, or possessing the unfathomable cunning and hypocrisy which circumvented the enemy till the day of reckoning came. T! is presupposes a degree of mental power
which he did not possess; we know hima only as a vacilatiln wealii, r.




CHAPTER XXVI.
T'f  MASSAG5E OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW.:nlig.ny at Coulrt, and the ~War with Spain, September, I57I —ny
n172.-The Massacre, 24th August, 1572, and the Fourth Relfi
glous War, I57z-3.-End of Charles IX., 3oth May, 1574.
COLIGNY AT COURT, AND THE WAR WITH SPAIN.
A   TER the Peace of x57o, it appeared as if a complete
change of policy was about to take place. The
Queen pretended to be friendly with the Protestants; her
relations with the ambitious Guises were distant and cold,
and the project of uniting the houses of Bourbon and
Valois by marriage really looked as if she was in earnest.
The most distinguished leader of the Huguenot party
was the Admiral Caspar de Coligny. It is quite refreshing
at this doleful period to meet with such a character. Me
was a nobleman of the old French school and of the best
stamp; lived upon his estates with his family, his little
court, his retainers and subjects, in ancient patriarchal style,
and on the best terms, and regularly went with them to
the Protestant worship and the communion; a man of
unblemished morality and strict Calvinistic views of life.
Whatever this man said or did was the result of his inmost
convictions; his life was the impersonation of his views and
thoughts. In the late turbulent times he had become an
important person as leader and organizer of the Protestant
armies. At his call, thousands of noblemen and soldiers
took up arms, and they submitted under his command to
very strict discipline. He could not boast of having won
many battles, but he was famous for having kept his resources together after repeated defeats, and for rising up
stronger than before after every lost engagement.
At the same time, he was not too much of a Huguenot




COLIGNY.                    367
to regard as supreme the welfare of the whole country, as a,
Frenchman and a nobleman. When, at the beginning of
the war, his party looked round for foreign aid, and proposed to apply to the German Protestant princes for
succour, he replied, "Let us regard them as mediators, but
not take any troops from them. Let us rather die than
merit the reproach that the Huguenots were the first to
bring foreign troops on to French soil." He always kept in
view that both parties, when they had attained their rights,
should submit to an honourable peace and feel themselves
to be' Frenchmen. Now that peace was made, "' why," he
asked, "excite further dissensions for the benefit of our
common enemies? Let us direct our undivided forces
against the real enemy of France-against Spain, who stirs
up intrigues in our civil wars. Let us crush this power, which
condemns us to ignominious dependence."
The war against Spain was Coligny's project  It was
the idea of a good Huguenot, for it Was directed against the
most blindly fanatical and dangerous foe of the- new'
doctrines;'but it was also that of a good Frenchman, for a
victory over Spain would increase the power of France in
the direction of Burgundy, and would round it off in the
most advantageous manner on the eastern side from
Besangon to Ostend. This was the germ of the subsequent policy of Louis XIV.
From September, I571, Coligny was at court  On his
first arrival he was heartily welcomed by the King, emnbraced by Catharine, and loaded with honours and favours
by both. I am not of opinion that this was a deeply laid
scheme to entrap the. guileless hero, the more easily to -uin
him. Catharine's ideas did not extend so far. Still less do
I believe that the young King was trained to play the part
of a hypocrite, and regarded Coligny as a victim to be
cherished'until the flte day. I think, rather, that Catharine,
in her changeableness and hatred of the Guises, was now
really disposed to make peace with the Protestants, and that
the young King was for the time impressed by this superior
personage.
No youthful mind is so degraded as to be entirely inaccessible to such influence. A man commanding the respect
due to age, but still in the vigour of life, with great moral
dignity, yet true French bon/iomit, could not fail to make
an irresistible impression upon youth.




368      rmE RnIELIGIOUS WARS IN FLfCF..CE
I am of opinion that' Charles IX. was under this irnpres
sion.  I believe: that the irst and only happy day in the
life of this unfortunate monarch was when he met Coligny,
who raised him above the degradation of vulgar life; and I
believe further, that this relation was the main cause of the
massacre of St.  Bartholome-w'a   A  new  influence  was
threatening  to surround; the'Kilng'and to take deep root,
whIich Catlarine, her son Henry. of Anjoun and. the strict
Catholic party, must do their utmost to avert; and it was
quite in accordance with the King's weak character to. allow
the man to be murdered whoem he had just called "Father."
Although we have but little light on the details of this
catastrophe, we have' sufficient information  to form  an
opinion of the causes which led to it.
Since peace'had been made, Coligny thought no -more of
a war of extermination between Catholics and Protestants,
but-and in this he was considering the natural interests of
the policy of France —of a national war, in which both.
parties should unite their forces against Spain.'
This did not exclude, but rather mlade necessary, the
support of foreign Protestants. of the Netherlands, the
alliance with England, and the- protestant powers of Germany.  In this he betrayed the tHuguenot; still, it was not
the only reason for his policy.  In a struggle with Spain, it
was not only liberty of conscience in and out of France
that was at stake, the object also was to throw  off an
oppressive foreign yoke, and to get possession of the fine
border country, which was afterwards the most valuable
conquest of Louis XIV.  The possession of the chain of
fortresses from  Luxemburg to Dunkirk was afterwards the
chief aim of the foreign policy of France. It did not arise
alone from  blind hatred of the house of Hapsburg, it was
a continuance'of the path which Francis I. had opened up,
and Henry  I. had followed farther, and the moment had
never been so favourable as now.  Richelieu  himself afterwards only imitated Coligny, but coldly and selfishly,-he
was destitute of his enthusiasm.
Was it incredible that Charles IX.'should be inspired
with it?
* These and the following views of these events entirely agree with
the confessions of Henry of Anjon himself. See Sokian, II., and com.
pare the essay on " Frankreich und die  Bartholomiiusnacht,"  in
Raumaer's llist. Taschenbuch. i854.




WAR WITH SPAIN.                  36o
What was uttered by Coligny in tones of the deepest
conviction, reminded the prince, for the first time, of the
treatment he had received, and of the unworthy position he
had held with respect to the Spanish policy and its agents,
his mother and'the Guises. He was just at the age when
the royal, blood could not fail to stir in him, and we know
that just about this time, to the horror of his mother and
rother, he repeatedly broke out into rash pxplessions.
During the first half of.5~72' this turn of affairs was
taking place.
Alba's system was on the decline;  he had just adopted
his final desperate measures, the stupid tax of the one
hundredth, twentieth, and tenth pennies; an indescribable
fuy raged in the country, which might at any moment
come to an outbreak, and the troops of Louis of Nassau'
and William of Orange had begun their operations.. The
situation, therefore, was favourable. If the Spanish power
were to be lamed, no better opportunity could be expected.,
It appears that about the middle of the year, the matter
was -as good as decided. The King willingly acceded to
Coligny's plan. While the doubtful attitude of England,
and the divided opinion of the Council, prevented any
open interference, the King privately gave considerable
sums for the support of the Flemish patriots, for the equip.
ment of an army of four thousand men, composed of
Catholics and Protestants, who marched towards Mons, to
succour Louis of Nassau. When in July this army was
beatenr and the majority of the Huguenots were in despair,
Coligny succeeded in persuading the King to.equip:a fresh
and still larger army; but the opposition then bestirred
itself.
THE MASSACRE oF ST BARTHOLOMEW, A VGUST1 24TH,4
I572,
The. strict CatholQ party had watched this turn of affairs
~with growing il-will; they dreaded enmity with' Spain, as
the best ally of the unity of the faith, and rejected all idea
of peace and reconciliation with the heretics, the fatal foes
of the good cause. The Guises found every government
which thrust them on one side unsupportable.
The Queen was by no means enth'usiastically in favour
of Spain, whose commanding influence she often found
oppressive; but to venture on. a war -with her was quite
24




3 70    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
another thing, and in questions'which concerned her
dominion over the King, everythingoelse was disregarded.
She had been absent with her -married daughter in Lor.
raine, and on her return she found everything changed; the
Guises without influence, herself thrust on one side.
Under the impression of the latest events in Flanders,
which made it likely that the war'with Spain would be
ruinous, she hastened to the King, told him with floods of
tears that it would be his ruin; that the Huguenots, through
Coligny, had stolen the King's confidence, unfortunately
for himself and the country, She made some impression
upon him, but it did not last long, and thoughts of war
gained the upper hand: again.
The idea now, (August, m572) must have been matured in
Catharine's mind of venturing on: a desperate step, in order
to save her supremacy and influence, for this consideration
was always uppermost with her.
She had trifled -with the friendship of the Huguenots, and
now they had outwitted her; her power over the King, the
fruit of the toil of a life-tirhe, had slipped through her
fingers, and through the Huguenots, whom she had dreaded
least of all. She had never liked them, had never forgotten
that they had formerly been inimical to her; all her fierce
old hatred was stirred up when she saw her positionb
threatened by these heretics.
She was a Medici-; had passed a -melancholy; joyless
youth; had been'brought as a stranger to the Court; had
been neglected by her husband, and thrust on' one side
under her eldest son. After a long course of humiliation,
she had at length attained the authority she desired, as the
adviser of her second son, and now it appeared that she
had only broughti him up for the Calvinists, and had really
been working for them. This was too much for a Medici.
As to ways and means in such a situation, she shared
the views of her nation. The passionate Italians are disposed to choose the shortestand most sanguinary methods.
Political assassination has always been judged more leniently by them than by other nations; unhappily, political
complications, combined with the hasty temperament of the
people, have often caused them to resort to poison or the
dagger, while the northerners are still debating. In the sixteenth century this sort of political morality was in full bloom,
had been.theoretically developed by Machiavelli with artlesr




THE MASSACRE CF ST. BARTHOLOMEWo 37't
objectivity, and, as a passionate womian,- Catharine was
doubly disposed to resort to sutih means.
The idea ripeiled in her' mind of getting'rid of Coligny
by. assassination; she was convinced that it would, serve her
purpose, and all other considerations were disregarded.
Entirely of one' mind with her son Henry, she turned to
the Guises, with whom she- was at enmity when they were
in power, but friendly when they were of no more consequence than herselE. They breathed vengeance against
the Calvinists, and were ready at once to aveenge the murder
of Francis of Guise by a-murderous attack upon Coligny.
An assassin' was hired, and esiablished in a house belonging to the Guises, near Colmvm-'s dweiling, and as he came
out of the palace, on the   2 nd  f, August, a shot was fired
at him, which wounded but did not kill him;,Had Coligny died of this wound Catharnne would have
been- content; her power Would have been restored, the
Huguen6ts intimidated and depmved of their leader, the
game which' she played wilth both p~ties, to render each
harmless by means' of the other, could' have begn again.
But Coligny -did not d1e; the Huguenots defiantly demanded vengeance on the well-knoum  instigator of the
deed; their threats reache&d the Queen' and Prince Henry
~of Anjou, and -the personal fascination which Coligny had
exercised over King Charles appeared rather t increase
than. to' diminish.'
Thus doubtless arose, during te anxious hours~ after' the
failure of the assassination, thie idea of an act of vioence on
a large scale, which should strike a blow at Coligny and
his friends before they had time for revenge. It certainly
had not been in preparation for months, not even sin-ce the
time that Coligny had been at Court; it was'conceived in
the agony of these hours. Not that so diabolical a scheme
was impossible in such a circle but Catharine's character
was not equal to it. In the heat of passion she could
venture' on the most fearful deeds, but she had not sufficient
elasticity to plan such a scheme and to allow it gradually to
ripen.
The -new faith had been proscribed in Paris from' the
first-all the Edicts of toleration expressly excepted it and
the neighbourhood-and the inhabitants cherished a growing
hatred of the Huguenots, which it was.hard to restrainr
and very easy to let loose. If the King could be persuaded




37Z     TmHE RELGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
to give the signal for an attack, a horrible massacre might
be expected.
But tihe g ing EWas- atgain in Coligny's hands, had seriously
entered into the iinvestigation. of the attempt upon his life,
dismissed the Guises with hard words from Court, sent a
guard of fifty men to Coligny's house, and had had it pro.
claimed in Paris and the provinces that, every part. of the
religious Peace should be conscientiously observed. On the
afternoon of the. 23rd of August the Queen made a final
attemrpt wzith the King.  She told him of a vast Huguenot
conspiracy against throne and altar, Which, with thousands
of well-armed troops, was only awaiting the right moment,
under Coligny's command, to attack him and all his house;
the Catholics were asl6ep; unless the King roused himself,
and under a leader chosen by himself resisted the Huguenots,
he would stand alone, and all would be lost.*  This down.
right lie took effect   orders were given for the massacre,
and it was organized on a large scale for the following night.
A vast number of the Hugutenots had co-me to Paris for the
celebration of the marriage of Henry of Navarre with the
King's sister; thousands had been attracted by this peaceful
and conciliatory festival; the plan was, at a given signal,
to fall upon the sleeping guests. The Guises sent for the
Prevots des Marchands and the superintendents of the
various quarters, explained the plan to them, and gave them
their commissions.  To marke suire that none of the more
important persons should escape, individuals were commissioned to murder particular persons,9 and the Duke of
Guise took care to undertake the murder of Coligny. These
doings have a horrible similarity to those of I792, when the
superintendents of the sections were sent for to have the plan
of the prison murders explained to them.  The murderous
orders had to be despatched to the provinces by couriers.
The horrors, of the night of the 24th of A-ugust took place
in this way. At a given signal the leaders left their posts,
collected their comrades, fell upon the Huguenot quarter,
and murdered the defenceless people.  About 2,ooo were
e According to the confessions of Henry of Anjou, the Queen only
wished for the head of Coligny and those of some of his friends, but
Charles IXo said in a tremendous rage that, if the Admiral must die,
not a single Huguenot should remain alive to reproach him with the
deed.. This, then, was the cause of the massacre, which was not at
first intended by Catharine and Henry.-Soldan.




THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 373
mnet with, very few of whom escaped. Similar signals were
despatched to all the larger places, and very few of the
superintendents had the courage to answer that they were
not assassins.  There were but isolated instances of
mercy and conscience; in general the command was
carried out as it was given, and it throws a ghastly light on
the nation and its rulers. The Kiing dragged along like a
powerless instrument, took part in these horrors, and was
seized with the horrid ambition to assist in the project which
was not his own invention.
Blind revenge and passion are bad counsellors.'Not a
single project of the house of Valois, which thought it was
contending for its Crown, or of the mother of its last King;
whose whole soul was engrossed in ambition, was accomplished by the deed.' Their dynasty was ruined, but the
Huguenots were not exterminated.
20,O0O, 25,000, even ioooQoo victims are spoken of-the
smallest number is the most probable I It was a tremendous
blow for the party. Most of its leaders were cut off; the greyheaded Coligny was cut to pieces; but, though weaker by
o20,.oo0o men, it was strong enough to begin the war of
revenge again. A fierce hatred had been excited in the
remnants of the party, which perhaps was of greater value
than the loss they had sustained. Charles IX. wrote on
a6th of August to his ambassador in the Netherlands:"This fire will extend to every city of my empire, and all
the followers of the new religion will be made harmless."
This opinion also prevailed at Rome and Madrid. The
Pope had a solemn.Te Deum celebrated, and Philip iH.
broke out into a coarse triumphal laugh at the news.
But in almost every other country of Europe, even in the
zealous Catholic States, there was but one voice of horror
and condemnation.
The Emperor Maximilian II. expressed the feeling of the
world when he said that it pained him to reckon- such a murderous crew among his relations, and he was father-in-law to
-Charles IX. -The Pope and Philip II., however, lauded it as
an act well pleasing to God, and one that did honour to the
title of the " Most Christian King."  Was it probable that,
even among these fanatical assassins, such a monarchy should
continue to exist? Was it possible that when passion had
cooled, and the calm voice of the nation was heard again,
a monarchy would be forgiven whose name was stained by




374     THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
the most'bloody deed that ever disgraced a royal house?
In the eyes of the nation, no blessing could ever again rest
on it. Just as Catharine thought she had attained dominion
for ever, she was giving the most fatal blow to her authority.
Thus a fresh religious war arose.  All that were not
murdered of the Huguenot party took up arms. It was
absolutely necessary for them to defend their rights, and it
became evident how many remained. None of the wars
were so feebly carried on by the royal party as this one; it
seemed as if an evil conscience lamed their powers.
Among the -Catholic population itself, a -party split off
from the fanatics, who were called, first in jest and then in
earnest, "The Politicians."  They condemned the war of
extermination against religious creeds, and demanded immediate abolition of the misgovernment of the Court party,
which was becoming more and more intolerable.  Political
pposition now assailed the helpless throne; and if we are
ever' justified in thinking we see the Nemesis following
close upon a guilty act, we are so in this case. The murder
scheme had failed; the Huguenots were not exterminated;
the Catholic party was split into two camps; Catharine
had to share her power with the Guises, and was helpless
between the two parties; the King felt the burden of the
night of the 24th of August press upon him more heavily
than any one elseo
The ghosts of those who had been slain by his orders
were ever before his eyes; he often rose in the night, and
rushed in'despair throiugh the dreary apartments of his
palace, followed bY bleeding forms and confused voices. He
was not enough of a villain to get over it as others would
have done; he was a weak child, who had been persuaded
to vile deeds, and was racked to death by the stings of
conscience.
Two years after the night of St. Bartholomew his feeble
life came to an enld; he pined away without any particular
disease, consumed by a dissolute life, and the remembrance
of an act which he wvas cweak enough to permit, and not
strong enough to overcorme.
This was a heav blow to Catharine; her tool was dead,
the throne again vacant, and that at a moment when the
Netherlands had risen, the Huguenots were in arms, and
the Catholic party filled with discontent and in process of
dissolution,




CHAPTER XXVITl
HENRY II.,! 574-839, AND THE LEAGUE.
Character of Henry.-The Edict of May, x576, and the Holy League
of the Guises.-Protracted Vacillation. — Death of Francis of
Anjou, June, 1584, and Contest abbut the Succession.-The War
of the Three Henrys, I588-9.-The Barricades of Paris, May,
1588.-The States at Blois, October, x588, and the Murder of the
Two Guises, 23rd and 24th Deceiber, 588.-.EFlight and Murder
of Henry III., August 2nd,!589.
OATHARINE'S third sor, Henry III., npw began to
C    reign.  It was said that he was the one most deeply,
imbued with her ideas, and. that he yielded the most willingly
to her advice.  He had spent his youth among- the Guises,
adhered jealously to the strict Catholic party-not from
religious sentiments, but from purely external motives.  He
had dutifully aided his mother in the arrangement of bhe
Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and he himself relates a/er
what vicissitudes she finally attained her end in her attacks
up9n the King's relations with Coligny, and with w-hat
anxious suspense she listened for the murderous signal.f
the alarm bell on the night of the 24th of August..
At this juncture a prqspect had opened of providing for
Henry, whom it was not easy to keep in France, by means
of his election to the throne of Poland. By dint of great
pecuniary sacrifices he had been elected King, and Poland
thought the French kingdom would aid Polish weakness.
Just as he ascended the throne, news came of his brother's
death, and Henry laid a.ide the crown-did not even abdicate, but simply deserted the Polish throne in order to ascend
the French one. In spite of his slender build and.l0love of
sensual pleasures, he was more vigorous than either of his
brothers, produced more the impression of a French noble




376    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
than his predecessor, and was-believed to have more mental
power. He was cetianly more  deeply initiated into his
mother's political morality. What in Charles IX. was contemptible wealkness, was in hlm voluntary co-operation;
what in the one c.me was extoend by lies and intimidation
from a demoralsed nature, was in the other the acquiescence
of detestable frivolity which a eed to anyffhing and shrunk
from inothing. Still, there was nothing manly in this peronage; though more gifted than his brothers, and not so easly
treated as a minor, there was nothing of he King about him,.and he was even more repulsive than tbev were.
The horrible corruption of Charles's Cour, its foolery and
frivolityj had no better representative than Henry of Anjom
He had gone through frightful excesses; his youth had nothing to show but- dissolute feats, ok even crimes. It is
related of him that he went through the streets as a Merry.
Andrew, or with wild beasts like a bear-leader, attired m
such a fashion that his sex was indistinguishable; or broke
into the houses of the peaceful citizens by night with a crew
of dissolute companions. Neither was he wanting in the
bigotry of which this Court could boast.:One day he might.
be seen with the notorious "-mignons," or seizing the mwi
and daughters of Parisian husbands and citizens; the next he
went to church, joined in masses and processions to atone
for the horrors of the previous- night. As to honour, fait,
honesty, and loyalty, he was trly worthy of his mother.
This was the Valois upon v,0hose shoulders the burden
was laid of healing the woes of a distracted country.
The religious contest was not adjusted; the Huguenots
were deeply embittered; new leaders were at the head; the
land groaned under misgovernment, which was worse than
ever; the treasury was e mpty; there was no money to pay
the officials, the troops, or th- household; discontent was
increasing among all classes; and there was a party of
eminent men who were clamouring for political reforms.
And now the dangers of the situation were incorporated
in an ominous League between the Huguenots and-the
Catholic politicians. Both renounced the idea of a unity
of faith for all France; gave up the endless civil wars, and
wished for peace on the principle of reciprocal toleration,
and directed their forces against- the Crown With a united
demand for reforms, abolition of the great'abuses, and con.
vQcation of the States of the empire.




HENRY IlL                   377
In the presence of these complications, Henry Ill. had
not the power, was too' insignificant to go to work like a
King, to put an end to factions by reigning supreme above
them. He chose the dishonourable path of fostering intrigues,
and for years played a deceitful game; but so clumsily,
that the commonest understanding could see through it.
In May, x576, he made peace with the politicians and
Huguenots, revoked the policy of the massacre, put an end
to the legal disabilities of its victims, granted the heretics,
with the exception of Paris, unlimited religious liberty,
equality in filling offices and dignities in every Parliament;
a chamber composed of an equal number of Catholics and
Protestants, and eight fortresses, as a pledge that the. treat)
should be observed.
The Catholics did not fail to strike a counter-blow to this
edict. With the help of Spain, Henry of Guise collected
together all those who held to the preservation of the unity
of the faith, at any price and by any means, in an alliance
called the Holy League; it was forimed in 1 576, and found
considerable support in the meeting of the States at Blois,
in December of thayt rear, Resistance to the utmost to the
~Huguenots, arid to al who should join themselves to them,
was the programme of this League.
At Blois, the King showed that he was not in earnest with
his corrcessions to the Huguenots. The Holy League had
not long been formed when the King joined it, and recalled
l1l that he had previously granted.  It came to a religious
waro Royalty and the opposing parties once more met upon
the battle-field, the former to play the forlor part of being
watched by the Catholics as partly, and by the Protestants
as altogether a traitor.'This war confirmed what had been
granted to the Huguenots in i57v6; but the seventh war,
which quickly followed, deprived them of it again until the
Edict of toleration was renewed at the Peace of Fleix.
Things could not go on as they were; royalty sunk deeper
every day in the estimation of all parties; alarming political
projects were stirring, when iN  Ju ne  58, another death
took place which hastened the crisis.
This was the death of the fourth son of Henry II. and
Catharine, k'rancis of Alengon, who, after the accession of
Henry IIi., had received thle tille' of.. Duke of Anjou, and
had been looked upon as Henrys successor. He had
allowed himself to be made a tool of by all parties; had at




378    THE: RELIGIOUS WAR$ IN FRANCE.
length appeared ks a Pretender in the south of the Nether.
lands; had tried all sorts of schemes in order to cut a
figure, but he had not talent enough for it. On the Ioth of
June, 1584, he died, and it was in fact the most important
thing he had ever done.
He was the last of the Valois, and the Bourbons were
now thought of as successors. The representative of the
claims of this house was Henry, King of Navarre, who.,
compelled on the night of St. Bartholomew to abjure his
faith, had afterwards escaped and placed himself at the
head of his old party.
Spain and Rome laboured against his right of succession,
against the elevation of the heretical Bourbons; and just
as they were beginning to look'round for' a Catholic
dynasty in France, the well-known work, "Stemmata," appeared in Lorraine, in which it was shown that the Guises
were descended from  the Carlovingians, and were thus
the legitimate house; while the French kings were all
usurpers. They forgot in their zeal that the Carlovingians
themselves were arrant usurpers, and that they should
have gone back to the Merovingians. An eighth religious
war then began about the throne, which has been called
the War of the Three Henrys. From the end of x585 there
was a melancholy campaign, the issue of which neither
party could foresee, and in which the King and'his mother
played a most pitiful part. The King at first sought to
maintain a position in the camp of the League, but vanished
before Henry of Guise. He then tried to take an independent course; but every attempt led to more painful and
ignominious defeats, until nothing availed but assassination,
which overthrew the kingdom of the last of the Valois.
There. could be no doubt with the masses who was the
lawful King, the wretched Henry III. or the powerful Duke
of Guise. It required a'persistent idea of legitimacy to
remain loyal to one about whom everything was despicable
except his legal right to the throne. Henry of Guise could
not be looked upon as other than a usurper, but he
displayed unquestionable superiority in playing his part.
He was not the great general which his father was con-,
sidered to be, but in chivalrous personal bravery he equalled
if he did not excel him. Then he was handsome, eloquent,
winning, exercised quite a fascination over the masses, was
without the weakness for women of Henry III., was distin



WA.RS 01 THE THREE HENRYS.            37 9
guished in all manly exercises, was the best rider, fencer,
swimmer in France, and was* blameless in faithfulness
to his convictions. The party wvhich he led was' in great
measure the creation of his family; it was a party which
knew, no capitulation; he stood or fell with it. However
worthless its programme may be considered, ift must be
granted that the Guises stood by it firmly, while the King
and his mother, broken reeds as they were, inclined now to
this side and now to the other.
At Rome and Madrid they were already designating the
hero of the League as the legal Catholic King, and the
book called the "Stemmata " was intended to mislead the
legitimist conscience of the people. The pitiful bearing of
the King towards the Duke of Guisewas as if' designed to
make the Pretender popular, and to'complete the bankruptcy of the lawful crown. The French sources relate
with a certain humour the King's attempt in x588 to rid
himself of his inconvenient Mayor:6f the Palace and' how
it ended in preparing a complete iriumph for the latter.
Guise had entered Paris with several hundred knights, in
order,'as he said, to justify himself to the King against
false accusations, but in truth to wring from  him  entire
submission to the commands of the League. The people
had received the Pretender with immense rejoicings, and
the. King was so enraged, that for'a moment he thought of
having him assassinated. To defend himself, he caused a
troop of 6,ooo nmeri.to enter the city, who would, properly
made use of, have be'en -quite sufficient to put down the
Duke and all his'followers; but the organization was so bad,
that Guise succeeded, under the eyes of- the King's soldiers,
who st9od like " iron pillars," in inciting the masses to rise
and construct barricades, which put all Paris into his power,
and compelled the King to fly. The Duke took possession
of the city, the people did homage to him as their Lord,
the wretched King entered into negotiations, and in July
signed a programme which really made the Duke regent.
and supreme ruler, and reduced the King to a mere puppet.
Henry could not forget this, and resolved to get rid of
the Duke by a secure method,
In October, I588, the States were convoked at Blois, and
it had to be shown who was, master, the King or the Duke.
Henry III; experienced one disappointment after another.
Even in the opening speech, he had to listen to a coarse




38o     TEtM RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
attack on the ambition of the great, and then to confirm by
oath the programme of the League.
But the spirit'by which a large portion of the assembly
was animated, indicated a new and tremendous danger, of
which the King had no idea. Ideas of reform in the empire
were expressed, as bold and radical as those of 1789; even
more so, for they did ndt adhere to the one point to which
all parties adhered-then-the entire unity of -the State-but
suggested projects of dedentralisation,- with privileges for the
nobles, the States and the provinces, which did not at all
comport with the great work of the -house of Valois. A
monarchy limited by a standing committee of the States
was p-roposed, and the doctrine of the'sovereignty of the
people.preached, which, in spite of its ecclesiastical dress,
was as revolutionary as possible. All the King's legal
power is granted him by the States; if he surpasses it, it
reverts to the States; questions of war, peace, taxes, &c.,
cannot be decided without them, &c. If we consider also
the revolutionary organization of the city of Paris, divided
into districts exactly as in x792,-governed by secret leaders
which had already, on the day of the barricades, the l2th of
May, made- itself a fearful lever of democratic agitation, the
similarity between this state of things and that of, the great
Revolution becomes very striking, and the distinction disappears that on the one occasion these things were
demanded in the name of the Catholic Church, on the other.
were based upon the rights of man.  This was the alarming
situation in which Henry HII, found himself -when, as he
saw no other mode of escape- he formed the desperate resolution of murdering the captains of the League, after he had
tried in vain to conquer tl.e n.
The King had already discussed the plan of the murder
with the most confidential members of-his body guard, when
Henry of Guise still felt quite secure, although he had been
repeatedly warned. "He will not venture on it," he said,
like Danton in a similar situation. HIe did not give the
prince, whose insignificance no one knew better than himself,
credit for power to carry out so heroic a plan.'When, on
the morning of the 23rd of December, i588, he, was going
to the King, he was struck down in the same apartments
where, sixteen years before, he had initiated the massacre.
His brother Charles shared the same fate?, and many of
the most influential leaders of the party were imprisoned.,




MURDER OF HENRY m. 381
The King thought that with the leaders he had destroyed
the party itself: this was a mistake. Civil war raged almost
all over France, and in Patis there was complete anarchy.
The Ligue des Seize-so the chief lodge of a number of clubs
spread over France was called-seized the reins of government, put its- creatures into every post, turned out all who
opposed them, and tried the King'by Parliament.
Helpless and forsaken, the King now fled to the camp of
the Huguenotst sought protection from those whom he had
beeni most consistent in opposing, and among whom there
were many who hated him as the murderer of their nearest
relations. *Henry of Navarre suppressed all these feelingsa great proof of his power over the army.  The King was
greeted as a King. At the same time it was a perpetual
embarrassment to the Huguenots to have this empty-headed,
weak-minded creature in their camp. The fanaticism of the
party of the Guises delivered them from it. One of the
priests, who had daily heard it preached at Paris that it was
meritorious to murder a tyrant-a Dominican, Jacob
Clement-entered the camp and gave the King a fatal stab.
A few hours after, Henry III. was a corpse, 2nd of August,
1589. The murder of the King, which had long been
preached, was now put in practice. The new political
doctrine of the Jesuits and the Council of Trent.had passed
through every stage, from producing mere demagogues and
rebellion up to regicide; people knew now what might be
expeted from it




CHAPTER XXTI
BEXRY  IVo, x589-x6xo.
Character of IHenry IV.-IEis Struggle for the Crown, g789-93.-'Dissolution of the Opposing Patty..-Charles of Mayenne, the
Parisian:Demagogues, Plans of Philip IL —Henry's Conversion to
Catholicism; Motives for and Consequences of this Step.Henry's Administration, xg594-6o.- Peace of Vervins, May,
1598.-Edict of Nantes, 9Sg8. —$ully'' Administration.-Plan of
a Great Protestant, Alliance against Spanish Hapsburg.-Henry's
Murder, by Ravaillac, May I4th, x6xo,
-CARACTERZ OF HENRY IV.
A NEW era now begins for France. According to law
and usage, Henry of Navarre was undoubtedly king.
The Bourbons were descended from the younger, the last of
the Capets and the Valois from the elder sons of St. Louis;
but the step  from  legal to  acknowledged and actual
possession was a long and difficult one.
Henty found confusion, dissolution, and civil war everywhere. At first he only possessed the smaller portion of his
kingdom. His inheritance, Protestant Bearn, stood by him,
as did also the Huguenot naval fortress of La Rochelle, the
Cevennes, the faithful nobles in Dauphind, Poitou, Saintonge,
and the scattered Protestant communities in the south of
France, and subsidies were granted him  by the German
Protestant princes.  The country whose lawful ruler he was
had to a great extent to be conquered, and when conquered
would have to submit to an entirely new order of things,
which would control disorder and license, and restore law
and order.
Henry IV. was the child of this wild period of civil war,
had grown up to manhood in camp, and amidst dangers
and disputes.




HENRY IV.                    383
His marriage had'furnished the occasion for the massacre
of St. Bartholomew.  While his fellow-religionists were
succumbing to the murderous accomplices of the Guises, he
was compelled to abjure his faith in order to save his life.
His heroic mother, Jeanne d'Albret, had died under
suspicious circumstances:I he had taken part in numerous
conflicts, had been hardened by many reverses. At first he
had only been tested as a brave soldier, and more than
this he did not appear to beo
And yet he was h-ne means of changing the aspect of
France. The loyal Scntfiments of the nation were fixed
upon him; a henlthy patriotism, which had perished in the
horrors of civil war and religious animosity, warmed up at
the sight of him; and he was the man to bring about the
needful change, and to give it the right direction. He was
not one of those superior men who can call forth mighty
creations out of chaos, and point out the course which shall
be taken for a long time to come, and yet he was not far
behind them.
He possessed to the full that happy talent of attracting
all cognate elements to himself-of nullifying all that was
inimical, of retaining the mastery in all the situations of
life. This was a proof of unusual personal greatness, even
if it cannot be said that he launched new and bold ideas
into the world.
He was, above all things, a thorough soldier, as after his
past history he could not fail to be. After the close of the
great war two hundred actions were counted, besides the great
battles in which he had been engaged, and almost always
without receiving any injury. He had that happy and careless disregard of danger which is bred of the popular heroic
spirit —which feels, and makes others feel, that he is under
a propitious star. This always excites enthusiasm among
a people so impressible as the  French  for military
glory.
Still he was not only a soldier. Even while pursuing the
bloody trade of war, he had retained a nobility of nature;
the softer traits of a royal character had not been effaced
by camp life. He not only knew how to plufnge into the
tumult of battle with his comrades and soldiers, or as a
general to measure the distances over a wide expanse: he
was also a simple, open-hearted, chivalrous man, who
heartily enjoyed life, and had plenty of natural dexterity in




384     THE RELIGIOUS WARS Ir FRANCE.
adapting himself to men —in detecting at a glance their
strong and weak points.
The stories of the amiable private life of his youth are
well known, so different from the coarse, selfish sensuality
and bigotry of the -last of the Valois.  It was told how he
caroused, joked, and laughed with his friends; one day gave
himself up to love-making, the next kept up free, unrestrained
irtercourse with the people; greeted every one with royal
and winning grace, sympathizingly inquired after the welfare
of the humblest, gained men's favour more rapidly by a
well-timed word and his ready wit than by the greatest
victories on the battle-field.
Besides all this, he possessed a wonderful elasticity, could
endure privations and fast with any one.  Notwithstanding
his sensuous temperaments he could rest upon the bare
ground, share frost, heat, hunger, and thirst with the most
insignificant of his soldiers, and yet be the first to face the
enemy, the last to leave the field. He carried on the most
various pursuits simultaneously and with equal zeal, and his
perpetual love affairs and' boundless excesses, which usually
enfeeble the strongest, never crippled his energies. When
he died, it was felt that a youthful, vigorous, richly-gifted
life, teeming with health, was cut off in its midst. - He knew
nothing of weakness, illness, or those hypochondriacal fancies
which were the curses of the last Qf the Valois. The only
bitterness of which he was capable, now and then showed
itself in transient humours, and a soldier-like contempt for
human life. It may well be, said that Henry IV. was a
Frenchman ipar excdlente; he exhibited the bright and
dark sides of the national character completely; the frivolity
and tendency to excess, the taste for mastial glory, the indestructible light-mindedness and social virtuosity, the
chivalry of sensuous life. It is obvious that such a person:
age was well adapted to revie the extinct loyalty of the
nation.
Henry IV. also possessed grand, royal traits of character.
He may be called ofivo0us for being so entirely destitute
of revenge, for forgving and orgetting so easily, but it was
an immense advantage to the people after a thirty years'
civil war. How often it was suggested to him to revenge
himself on a conquered foe, and how  nobly he always
rejected the proposal i The zealots of his own party, -who
could not forget the butchery of St. Bartholomew, and moany




HENRY IV.                    385
other Lhings, imight think t frivolous, but it was an unspeak.
able advaiitage for the restorer of the national kingdom.
He cane as the king of an ill..treated, betrayed, a d fearfully irritated party; but, during his reign of twenty yea-s
he always appears as the king of the whole people, never
as the successful leader of a party.  The Bourbons of our
days would have been on the throne still had they displayed
these royal qualities.
He was a man of strong sensuality, but'his mistresses
never had any political influence over him, and- amidsf his
countless love affairs he neyer forgot the duties imposed.
upon him  by his proud and  onerous calling; he was
sufficiently well schooled in the grave business of life to
give a higher place t6  men of merit than to women
and their favour. The harsh and obstinate Sully often
reproached him  bitterly'ith his frivolity, and strenuously opposed him in great measures; the'contest some-.times becomes so sharp that it would be no surprise if he
dismissed his unamiable minister and devoted himself to
women. But-we know that no such purpose ever crossed
his mind.
THSE ELEVATIOI  OF.HENRY IV. TO THE TeRONE.
The King's position was a very difficult one. His relations to the two parties'who had been fighting for life or
death were not yet clear, He was not a fanatic, like those
about him. As the son of a zealous Calvinistic mother, he
had been brought up as one of the Reformed party from childhood, but he had had to go through sundry metamorphoses.
During the night of -St. Bartholomew he was compelled to
become a Catholic,. and when free became again a Protestait,  Thus he was able to- look at things with a cooler
head than the partisans around him. His interests were
indeed connected with the Reformed party, but he was able
to put its religious creed on and off like something external,
which was afterwards of some importance to him.
Even before the helpless Henry III. had taken refuge
in his camp, the leader of the Huguenots had put in a
conciliatory word amidst the war of Catholic and Protestant
Frenchmen.
Under date of 4th of March, x589, he had ismued am
eloquent address to the States and all his countrymem, pro.:ZI




386    THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
testing against the impatient spirki of the States at Blois,
and he indicates peace between the creeds as the only
-method of healing the sick State. " Have pity, Frenchmen,
on your fair country I' he had exclaimed;'"cease to stain
it with the blood of your own sons, to the scorn and malicious
satisfaction of your enemies; desist from civil war and
return to concord. I myself will give an example of conciliation. I will take under my protection all the party and
persons of the Catholics, even their priests; for I know it is
only by means of clemency, peace, and good example,
that true piety can flourish, and distracted States can recover."
These views did honour to the patriot and the politician;
but'to cause them to' take effect amidst fierce party spirit
was.a difficult and arduous task, as Henry experienced to
the full. His' first declaration, after the death of' Henry
III., was calculated to make both parties beholden to him.
He declined to accept the suggestion that he should become
a Catholic:.  A creed for which thousands of the lower
classes had joyfully surrendered their lives, could not be
lightly rejected by him who would be worthy of the crown
of France. It might be done by a scoffer, one who had ho
religion at all, but such an one they did not wish for a
king. On the other hand, he did not think that the creed
in which he had been born and bred "was free from errors;.
he would not close his ears'against instruction'on the subject'
when the -peers and office-bearers-of the tealm assembled:
around him, should they find -an opportunity of discussinlg
the question.A compromise was then agreed on, according to which'
the King was to receive instruction in the Catholic religion,
and was to protect the Catholics in their rights and dignities.
In thus giving the Catholics hopes that he was not inaccessible to capitulation, and showing the Protestants that
he was not going lightly to abjure his. faith, he wished to
prevent the open outbreak of schism in his.camp. Had he
not done the first, the Catholic nobles would have at once
forsaken him, and have probably strengthened the forces of
the League. Nevertheless, his position was in the highest
degree difficult. The strict Catholics did not conceal -their
mistrust; and the strict Huguenots, who regarded any
approach to the Catholics as defection or treason, were
deeply displeased. The fascination. which he exercised




HENRY W.                    387
over them, the recollection of long companilonship in arms,
induced them to overlook it; but he could not prevent
their uttering reproaches in his presence.
Thus there was a. party for him whom he did not dare to
offend, and had to treat with the greatest consideration;
and another, more than half against him, who were only to
be bought by coxrcessions. There was at first no -talk of
royal authority, or of taxes, revenue, &c; He carried on
the war with foreign heretical money, and strengthened his
army with Swiss and German hirelings; in short, in spite of
his undoubted legal claims to.the throne, he was really only
a pretender, who -had, amidst a. thousand dangers, to. conaquer his country and crown.
The great Powers of Europe, with the exception of England, only now becoming great,'were against him; the
Spanish Hapsburgs were against him; Philip IH. declared
at once that he did not acknowledge his rights;. Rome, in
a bull of September x1585, declared him incompetent to
~reign; and the German Hapsburgs mostly went with their
Spanish relations,
Not to despair in. such a situation.demanded the courage
and elasticity of a man. like Henry IV. His army was
small, his means scanty; a great Power like Spain was
opposed to him, whose most talented general, Alexander of
Parma, was now entering France from the Netherlands; the
League was in possession of Paris; only a very small part
of the Catholic population was on his side; the adhesion of
-the Huguenots was but doubtful. It was a situation which
no ordinary man could face without dismay.
But during these bitter' days we never hear a word of
-despair or discouragement from' Henry IV.  On. the contrary, he seems secure in the consciousness that he must
conquer, and, in fact, so long as he reigned, his cause was
not lost.
It was fortunate for him that his opponents were by no
means united. Had Spain, the Guises, and the whole
Catholic population united against him, a struggle must
have ensued in which.Henry IV. could not have been
victorious.
In the first place, among the party of the Guises there
8was not a man to put in Henry's stead who would have
ventured to aspire to thhe crown, and thereby to give the
Revolution-for a revolution it was-a distinct programme.




388    THE RIf TGIOUS WARS IN FKRANCE.
The surviving brother of the Guises, Charles of Mayenne,
was a brave soldier, but he wanted Henry's talents
and adventurous ambitions.  He stood rather for the
security of his brother's will, in order that the banner of
the-party of the Leaie, whose born leader he was, should
be upheld, than had courage to carry it out to its legitimate
consequns ces-;  he did not venture to have'himself proclaimed king, as his friends advised, so that:king should
stand face to face with king, but only took half measures,
which turned to his adversary's advantage.
The legitimate right of Henry IV, was rejected a but as
they wished to have an opposition king, if only a nominal one,
they seized upon the only Catholic Bourbon, Henry's uncle,
a man of sixty-seven years of age, who had never troubled
himself about the government, and, as a cardinal, was
quite unfit to play this part.'He was proclaimed king as
Charles X_ The legitimacy which they wished to maintain was only apparent, and the hereditary'right of the
house whose next heirs were passed over was only con..
firmed.
The nephew took, possession of the person of his uncle,
and kept him in honourable imprisonment, but so that his
adversaries could not get at him. The newly.proclaimed
King was in the.hands of his most dangerous rival. Then,
Within the party which had hitherto been united, divisions
began to take place.
The frightful conspiracy of the Sixteen, who had now
become all powerful at Paris, had at first nothing in comrn
mon with the League except its enemies; composed from
the first of an undisciplined mob, and tending to general
anarchy, the mobocracy, the terrorism of the demagogues,
now prevailed to so unexampled an extent at.. Paris that it
was no longer compatible with any tactics directed to great
general ends. The Duke of Mayenne was a soldier, and
felt the natural aversion of the camp to the wild doings of
lawless crowds. He hated the barricading.plan and the
terrorism of the masses, and was soon of opinion, at the
risk. of incurring the deepest displeasure of the demagogues, that there was nothing for it but to hang up a few
of the loudest of them to secure peace. Having subdued
the mutineers in November, 1591, he put it in practice.
Thus in the midst of the party itself an opposition had
arisen between the Legitirnists of the camp and the Mo.




SCIEMES OF PHILIP II. IN FRANCE.    389
narchists of the capital, and a variance had arisen among
the heads of the coalition, which continually increased.
Spain, Rome, and the Guises had hitherto held together;
all three had expressed,themselves strongly against Henry's
right of succession; and since the book had appeared about
the legitimacy of the Guises, it was supposed that the
vacated throne was meant for them; but this appeared to
be a mistake, so far as Philip IL, the most powerful of the
allies, was concerned.
Had it been the murdered Henry of Guise, perhaps
Spain would have been accommodating, though she would
not acknowledge Charles of' Mayenne as king-; but it was
becoming continually more evident that she had an inten.
tion of reigning in France herself. Under the last of the
Valois, Philip II. had exerted a powerful influence in French
affairs. Spanish money and Spanish intrigues had constantly torn and kept open the wounds of the civil war.
If France becomes Protestant, so said his spokesmen, the
Netherlands and Spain itself will fall victims to heresy.
Thus, after the death of Henry III., they justified increased
interference in the internal affairs of France. Charles of
Mayenne was advised with threats not to grasp at the
crown. When Charles X. was proclaimed, it was said, the
old cardinal cannot be king-let there be a regency; and
the most natural regent would be Philip II. At length, in
I593, it was proposed to make Philip's daughter, the Infanta
Clara Eugenia, regent. She was to rnarry an Austrian archduke, and France would be made an appanage of the house
of Hapsburg.
This was with Philip the ambition of despair. He had
failed in subduing the Netherlands; his attack upon England was defeated; his last shift was the crazy idea of
gaining a firm footing in France-perhaps thence he could
take up the other great schemes again.
With an almost bankrupt State, a shipwrecked fleet, and
a decimated army, it was a desperate undertaking to try to
make a Spanish province of a country whose people glowed
with national feeling. Among all the forces which played
a part in these complications, nothing helped Henry IV. so
much as this Spanish attempt upon the independent existence of France. The simple consciousness that they were
Frenchmen began to stir in the hearts of thousands, and'
overcame the dissensions of religious parties. Many an




390     THE RELIGIOUS WARS -IN' FRANCE.
honest man began' to suspect the League,'and perceived
that their country was standing on the edge of a precipice.
Among these was Villeroi, who began to vacillate, and
whom Henry afterwards chose as' his minister out of the
very camp of the League.  Even Charles of Mayenne
began to listen to these considerations.
At Arques, 1589, and Ivry, 1590, Henry had obtained
his first military successes over superior powers. But they
had not helped him forward. On the 3oth-of August, I59o,
he was obliged to raise the.siege of Paris. The capital
remained under the dominion of a mob, excited to madness
by fanatical priests and unscrupulous demagogues; the
greater part of his army, which he had with difficulty supported, escaped from him; the most important cities were in
the hands of the enemy; the country was exhausted; and
while the adversary received large sums from Spain, the
small subsidies which he had received from England,
Holland, and. the little princes of Germany, were scarcely
sufficient for. the most necessary expenditure.
The dissensions which raged in the enemy's camp gave
him time to breathe.
The attitude of the raging sect of the Sixteen in Paris
soon amounted to open treason against the country. They
already subscribed themselves to King Philip as "his
Majesty's obedient servants;"  but their terrorism became
so fearful, that Mayenne himself had, at' the end of 1591, to
interfere with his military authority.
The King now received the- first message from Mayenne,
offering to. come to terms on certain conditions. These
could not be acceded to; but the attempt showed that the
last of the Guises had had enough of the reign of madness
in Paris,'and the superciliousness of Spain had begun to
make him anxious. The more wildly the terrorists behaved,
the bolder was Philip with his projects.  Individual defections followed; after I591-2 one and another nobleman
joined the King's cause; but with these isolated conquests
it ended. All assured him that it had cost them great sacrifices, and the rest were not strong enough to make them so
long as the, King remlained a heretic. The Diet, which met
at Paris in, January, I593, and which the national Catholic
party under Mayenne, and the Spanish party, hoped to turn
to good account,'ed to nothing; or rather, the supercilious
attitude of Feria, the Spanish ambassador, hastened the




HENRY'S CONVERSION TO''CATHOLICISM.  391
breach. between Mayenne and Philip, and confirmed the
idea of entering into fresh negotiations.
These negotiations, which took place in April and May
between the royalist and national Catholic party, convinced
Henry that without becoming a Catholic he could not be
King of France. He therefore gave the first definite promise on the subject..Meanwhile, the negotiations between the Spanish commissioners and the Diet were openly carried on. Mayenne
tried in vain to intrigue for himself; the Spaniards went
abruptly to work at their purposes, tried to bring about the
speedy election of a sovereign at any price, whether it were
Philip, his daughter, or a prince of the house of Hapsburg.
But the bolder -they were, the stronger-was the national
disinclination to the Spaniards.
In July, I593, Henry went over to Catholicism, and this
upset-all the machinations of'the enemy.
The priests and the' Papal Legate in vain declared that
his conversion was a lie. Henry's adherents increased from
day to day; the defection even reached the ranks of the
zealous Leaguists.; and when, in March, I594, Henry surprised Paris, the power of the League was broken. In the
course of the year, one city after another opened its gates
to'him; the Catholic nobility did homage to him  in a
mass, and among them even Mayenne, Henry of Guise,
Nevers,'&c
It was under these circumstances -that the son of Jeanne.
d'Albret took a step which she would never have forgiven
him.
It is not easy -to excuse ka man who changes his religion
-for external reasons; he can. never be regarded as a model
of strength of character who, for the sake of a crown,
changes his creed like a garment. But it is certain that the
crown was not to be had at any other price, that Henry. had
not. the spirit of a martyr, and that' his'change of religion
saved France from falling into an abyss.
It was not a time when a monarch whose creed was that
of a minority could rule the land. Who can.say how it
would be to-day if a'Calvinist tried to. govern Francel
Few. will say'that it would be practicable even in our en.
lightened days, and no one that it was so in the sixteenth
century,  A frightful fratricidal war had been raging for
thirty years, in which difference of creed caused men not to




39z     THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FR.CUE.
shrink from the most cruel murders. In such a state of
things there is no standpoint for a ruler so elevated that he
can afford to overlook the creed of the majorhty, and ascend
the throne as the representative of the minority. As a
Huguenot,- Henry could neither rule France then, nor ever.
As a Catholic, three attempts to assassinate him  had failed
-the fourth succeeded, because the Catholic fanatics, the
Jesuits, always regarded him as a. secret heretic and an outlaw. What could he expect if he remained an avowed
heretic?
There can be no doubt how a man whose convictions
were all in all to him, ought- to and would have acted;
but such an one must not' hanker aftr -earthly crowns:
he must remain witein his sanctuary until his last breath.
But Henry was not made for a martf to his relgious convictiopns; the lightness wivth which he regarded such tings
was connected with some noble qualities in which most
of the uncompromising  Huguenots were wanting. The
magnanimous toleration which a monarch in such circumstances must consider as one of his most sacred duties,
and which Henry IV. really did practise, belonged to therm
as little as to their adversaries.  Even though it may be
looked upon as frivolity, it iill not be disputed that it was an
unspeakable benefit to France, and saved her frgbm an ignominious foreign rule and endless sanguinary convllsions.
There was no otler means of securing to France the
peace which she so urgently neded, if she was not to be
torn in pieces; and this Nmury clearly saw. -It was not
mere idle amb'ion —not the idea that, clothed in the purple,
he could dispense with religioxn —but the consciousness of
his mission to give the peace to France which all his predecessors had denied her. This appeared to him as his
vocation. Before fortune had smiled upon him, he declared
it to be his best title 3 and the reasonable critic must take
this into account.
Thus,,n the sumier of x593, as the Catholic party were
unyielding, he resolved to take the step which he had
hitherto declined.
His motives were certainly entirely political; and those
who attempted his life were not altogether wrong in saying
that he was secretly a heretic.  Only priestly absurdity
could expect him to give up affection for his old party, and
devotion to their cause.  But if steps like these are judged




HENRY'S CONVERSION'O GATHOLICISM. 393
by their results, no greater triumph than this can be
imagined.
When he went over to Catholicism, the opposing party
was broken up-France was conquered. It way now not
only isolated renegade Catholic noblemen who came to
him, not concealing how difficult the step was, but the
whole nation: the cities, the leaders of the native aristo.
cracy came also, and in a frame of mind which showed how
joyfully they submitted to a king who was not the mortal
enemy of their Church. During the following spring the
capital was occupied almost in sport; Laris submitted to
him almost without a blow.
How was it now with the Huguenots? They were his
army and his party. Now that he had forsaken them, did
they not also forsake him?
It is a striking testimony to the commanding character of
the man, and his power of attracting men to himself, that
this was not the case. There was indeed some vacillation;
the party was discontented, and complained openly and
secretly that the cause for which so much blood had been
shed was lost. But none of them deserted him; he was
still their Henry of Navarre, who had fought with them fol
twenty years; it was among them that he had grown up
into a knight without fear and vithout reproach; he had
shared with them distress, privation, danger, and victory;
they could trust him as they could trust themselves when
he said that he would be a King for Catholics and Protestants alike.
GOVERNMENT OF HENRY I., z594-1610.
The kingdom which Henry IV. now entered upon was in
a state which it is difficult to describe; the task of closing
the chasm which had been yawning in this country tor a
generation demanded unusual powers.
The diminution of population was reckoned, even in
I$8o, at 700,000 men, and since that time at double that
number; the loss was of those in the prime of life, and was
only equalled in the Napoleon wars. There was no longer
anything like order, morality, or security; there was poverty
and devastation everywhere, and most of all in the country;
there was no longer any trace of taxation, law, order, or
government; a wild banditti life, the scourge of such tines



394     THE RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
flourished for. years upon every highway; and what sort of
seed had been sown in the minds of the educated classes,
by the civil war, was shown by the attempts to assassinate
the King,. which were avowedly the result of Jesuitical
intrigues. The efficiency of the new government was
shown by a variety of rapid. results; if the civil war was
calculated to dissolve all the elements of political life, its.bleeding wounds were now healed in an incredibly short
tine.
The first thing was to restore peace with.foreign powers,,and to settle accounts with Spain.
War was declared with her in January,!595. It was
inevitable, partly for honour's sake, partly because Spain
still occupied large portions of the country, and the contumacious nobles were supporited by the Spanish troops,
When the superiority of Spain as a military power is considered, and the exhaustion of France, it must be allowed
that Henry, who depended upon aid from England and the
Netherlands, carried on the war pretty successfully. It was
Philip's last war, and the result was the same as in all the
others —he had to renounce all of which he thought himself
secure, and, after enormous sacrifices, to acknowledge that
his enemy was victor. The -Peace, after he had been beaten
at all points, put the seal upon Philip's reign; he had lived
in vain.
The Peace of Vervins, 2nd of May, 1598, confirmed that
of Cateau Cambrasis: both parties gave up their conquests,
and France regained those —made by the Duke of Savoy.
Teace was also made with the Pope.
Rome had, not without some shame, to retrace all the
disgraceful steps which she had publicly taken, Any further
explanation than that' the King had returned to the Catholic
Church was refused; he could not even- be prevented from
promising to acknowledge both religions.
No French king had ever yet settled matters with Rome
like the converted heretic whom  Rome had repeatedly
declared to be for ever disqualified from-reigning.
France was at length freed from the foreign troops and
foreign intrigues by which she had been tormented ever
since 1562; the foundations were laid of an orderly internal
administration.
The most important step in this direction was the Edict
Of Nantes, by which Henry made peace with the Huguo



THiBl EDICT OF NANTES.              395
nots.  This law granted greater toleration than anhy othet
in the sixteenth century. It conceded too much rather than
too little, not of religious liberty, but of political privilege,
Not that the Huguenots abused it, but it was a reproach to
them; it gave a handle to the assertion that they formed a
State within the-State, were an obstacle to complete national
unity; and it was this point in the Edict which was afterwards attacked.
During the last few years, the Reformers, who could not
forget the King's defection, and thought that all their
sacrifices were repaid with ingratitude, had been perpetually
plying him with their grievances; various negotiations were
<:ntered into, until at last, on x3th of April, 1598, the celebtrated Edict was signed at Nantes, in the secret articles of
which, as well as in the Brevets, their religious and civil
position was defined.*
In religion, liberty of conscience was granted them. All
nobles possessing superior jurisdiction were allowed to
teach Calvinism, and every one might share their teaching.
Nobles without this jurisdiction were granted the same
privilege, and might admit a number of persons to their
services, unless they-lived in places where the jurisdiction
belonged to Catholic nobles. In all towns and villages
where Calvinistic service had been held up to August, I797,
it was permitted to be continued or restored. For all those
whose dwellings were scattered, a place was appointed in
a suburb or village where service might be held. Paris
and a number of other cities were excepted; no Reformed service was allowed in them. In other places they
were permitted to possess church bells, schools, &c., but
the Catholic religion was supreme; the Reformers had to
observe the fete days, and pay-tithes to the Catholic clergy.
But they might levy a church tax upon themselves to defray
their own expenses, and receive an annual stipend of 45,000
dollars.
As to civil rights, the obligations' and privileges of the
Protestants were the same as those of- the Catholics, and
they had equal claims to imperial offices and dignities.
There was a Court of Justice in Paris (Chambre de'Edit),
for Normandy and Brittany; at Castres, for the district of
Toulouse; at Bordeaux and Grenoble, Chambres mi-parties,
before which Protestants from Provence and Burgundy
* Weber, Geschichte des Calvinismus.




396     TH  RELIGIOU S WARS iN FRANCE.
were summoned. There was also an inferior tribunal for
recusancy; the previous unjust sentences were reversed, the
exiles recalled.  They were to retain for eight years all the
fortresses which had belonged to them before i597, with all
their military stores. They either had their own governors
and administration like La Rochelle, Montauban, and
Nismes, or were garrisoned, and the governors appointed by
the Reformers.
This was a well-meant provision; for eight years at least
the.Huguenots were secure against reverses. If the King
was murdered, there was a pledge that they would still be
tolerated.  But this state of things continued beyond the
appointed time; it was, in fact, recognised as a perpetual
right, and whatever -may be thought of the principle, it was
in the highest degree inimical to the tendency of the French
nation to absolute unity and uniformity.
Richelieu afterwards reaped the consequences of this
danger. With all this, a wise and energetic administration'
went hand in hand, the soul of which was Sully, Maximl-n
lian de Bethune, Marquis de Rosny.
A Huguenot nobleman, knocked about and hardened
from his youth upwards in the wars of religion; a genuine
Calvinist, harsh, unapproachable, incorruptible, stiff and
obstinate; like. Henry himself, a brave cavalier, but unlike
him in his conscientiousness, and the puritanical strictness
of his character, he was a type of the Genevan school, as it
was found among the best of the French nobility.
His relations with the State and the King were those of
a proud landed noble, who regarded himself as the ruler of
his own domain. According to his ideas he conferred an
honour on the State by serving it, and he did not serve it
for gain. When he was once guilty of a breach of dis.
cipline, he defiantly addressed the King with the words,
"I am neither your subject nor your vassal;" and he wrote
to Mary of Medici, that he did not court office; France
might be proud to have him for minister.
Distinguished as a soldier, statesman, and financier, he
knew how to rule the State as well as his own house. He
undertook the office of Minister of the Interior, of Justice,
War, and Finance.
France has had administrations which were as able as-that
of Sully, but none so independent and irreproachable.
It was necessaxry to undertake a reorganization on a large




SU'LLY'S ADMINISTRATION.             397
scale; a new administration, from the lowest step upwards.
It was for this reason that he kept a number of ministerial
offices in his own hands; with the exception of foreign
affairs, he was chief of all the departments.  From the laying
out of new roads, and establishing security of intercourse in
town and country, to the highest questions of administration and finance, the State had to be reconstructed and
reformed, and Sully accomplished it all with the strict
conscientiousness and untiring -energy which were peculiar
to him.
There were really no revenues. Enormous taxes, which
were an oppressive burden almost up to the time of the re-.
volution, were already the scourge of France; they were
ruinous, yet brought no money to the State, for it was all
swallowed up in bad administration. All that the State
had power over, had gone to ruin; the crown lands were
recklessly given away, or sold for ridiculous prices; patents
of nobility were already sord, immunity from taxes and
other important privileges were connected with them,
though they were sold  so cheap. By this means the
number of taxpayers was so decreased as to bring France
to the verge of bankruptcy.
The finances were in indescribable confusion. The debt
of France was enormous; Sully reckoned it at 345,000o,oo
livres, which, taking into account the relative value of money
and the revenues of the State, was more than it has ever been
since. It did not appear how even the interest of this sum
was to be obtained. The administration was as reckless as
it was possible for it to be. The names of those to whom
no crown lands could be given were inscribed in the great
debtors' book of France; they becaime the creditors of the
State, the State their debtors.
It was impossible to help France but by severe measures,
which were inimical to many personal interests. These
could only be adopted by a man, the purity of whose
character disarmed calumny, who had never been suspected
of enriching himself at the expense of the State and its
usufructuaries.
Sully could venture to plunge into the chaos of these
finances, to lessen the burden of debt by searching-into the
legal claims of the creditors and mercilessly setting aside
all that were illegal. He put a stop to the squandering of
crown lands, dpmanded the restoration of those that had



398    THE  I:SLIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE.
been illegally appropriated, revised the patents of nobility
and partially abolished them, and reformed the worst abuses
of the system of tax-farming.
Many individuals suffered severely, but, on the whole,
what was necessary was also just. Nine possessors of crown
lands out of ten had no right to them; nine out of ten had
long ago been compensated for the price paid for their
patents of nobility, and were now in the comfortable
enjoyment of rich, undeserved revenues.
In this manner Sully again created a treasury by regaining the crown lands; he diminished the debts and privileges
to a surprising extent, and restored things to the state
in which they were before the time of the last of the
Valois.
A frightful abuse had crept into the Government itself.
Francis I. had foolishly increased the evil which prevailed
during the ancient monarchy, of causing a rapid accession
of income by the sale of public offices; the evil was great
enough of itself, and, as it was now carried on, it made a
reasonable and just administration  simply impossible.
Offices became private property, the tenure of them a benefice, the officials themselves a caste with whom no one could
interfere, and over whom there was no control. New places
were always being created, because- money was raised by it,
SQ that a superfluity of offices arose which became a permanent burden on the people, and diminished the prosperity of the nation to two or three times the extent of the
advantage.
Sully abolished a number of these places; it was a severe
blow to many, but, on the whole, nothing was lost by it but
the enjoyment of a great abuse.
All this occupied but a decade. It would only have
been possible to a man like Sully, who could daily remind
the King and country, in his proud, harsh manner, that it
was he who was making the greatest sacrifices for the State,
and that if he laid down his office that very day, the State
would have more to complain of than he. When he afterwards found' difficulties under the regency, he really did
throw his portfolio at the feet of the Queen.
An administration like this is rare anywhere, but especially in France, where the idea early arose of looking
upon the State as a provision for the nobles, clergy, and
Qfficials.




SULLYfS ADMINISTRATION.               399'Henry's relation with Sully is one. of the great traits of
his character. He quite agreed in the leading ideas of
Sully's policy; even adopted the. rigid economy urged by'his minister, which. was so little in accordance with his
taste, and he must often have heard himself blamed as
miserly  Differences, however, were often. apparent enough
in. the carrying out of his projects.. Henry would not
always yield -to the -rigid moralist,.sand we now and then see
an attempt by the court to thwart his purposes, but when it
came to a -contest, Sully always prevailed.
France now began to flourish greatly.
Sully was'not only the  "6 Minister of Agriculture,"
whose only idea was the cultivation of the soil, he considered this branch of industry in its connection with the
State, and was the first who expressed the idea that if
agriculture was to have its rights, of which it was deprived
till the'revolution, and only obtained by its means, the
notorious land tax must be abolished. The first rational
encouragement of trade also dates from his labours, and
of those branches of industry, such as silk culture, which
afterwards flourished for centuries in France. When the
time for the great progress of commerce and navigation
came, the man also appeared'who built upon the foundations so successfully laid by Sully.
The State now again possessed the elements necessary to
internal and. external prosperity: funds, a regular income,
crown lands, law and justice, trade, commerce, wor, workand
intercourse, The condition of the masses was better than'it
had been since the times of Francs I. Civil war had ceased;
lasting peace was secured between the creeds-; peace
was made with Spain and Rome on honourable-terms;
every branch of peaceful industry flourished with an energy
proportionate to the time during which it had been de.
prived of protection and security.
Su6h a government, continued from ten to twenty years,
would have created a power for France such as she afterwards attained under Louis XIV., for even now no other
ancient monarchy of the Continent, not even Spain nor
Austria, could compete with her, But fate had decreed
otherwise. Henry IV. and Sully were. called away before
their time; the, former'in the prime of manhood, the
latter not long after h{m, Instead of a vigorous pursuance
of the paths that had been entered upon came all the




400     TIE RELIGIXOU      ARS WA   FRANCE.
weaknesses of a feminine regency; still, the  previous
government was not without result.
The -threads of it were taken up by Richelieu, and he
carried the formation of the hbsolute monarchy, begun by
Sully, to the acme'of its greatness.
As a Calvinist, Sully was not ian adherent of this form of
government, but circumstances -made suc-h a dictatorship
inevitable. At first, notables, and commissions were assembled, but such a chaos hrose that it'was a decided
advantage when the dictatorship prevailed without taking
account of individual opinion. Under Henry IV., States
andnotables gradually disappear.
The tendency of Henry's foreign policy was sharply
defined. Various elements and opinions were found among
his ministry.  Besides Sully, there was Villeroi, who
struggled for the party of the League to the last, and, with
the rest of his party, maintained the opinion that France
must enter into a Catholic alliance with Spain and Rome to
ward off innovations. Henry and Suly, on the contrary,
were decidedly for a grEeantProtestant League, not because,
as the Jesuits said, he waas still a Huguenot at heart, but
because he felt himself so completely the King of France.
Shortly before his fali, Coligny had advised Charles IX.
to reconcile parties, and, with the united power of both, to
inaugurate a national policy against Spain and the Hapsburgs.  It Was with this idea that the Huguenot had
entered upon the inheritance of Frnacis L.  It certainly
was a national policy, and was followed up by Richelieu
and Louis XIV.> the Revolution and Napoleon I. The
realisation  of the 6"Christian European Republic" of
Henry IV. would have made France, consolidated within
her natural boundaries~, he centre of European politics.
Richelieu did afterwards realise this, arid he was not a
converted Huguenot, but a cardinal of the Romish Church.
Hie used the Protestant alliance as a lever to extend the
boundaries of Frarfce, and. this was precisely what was
intended by Henir IV. when he entered into alliance with
hEngland and the Netherlands, the  sworn enemies of
Spain. These were allies who would not oppose him if he
seized upon.the duchy of Lorraine, and other valuable
border lands. It appears to me that this was as truly a
French policy as any other, and yet nothing excited so
much enmity  gainst him as this.




ASSASSINATION OF HENRY IV.,           401 
The negotiations and good understanding with the Rec
formers in the  Palatinate,. Hesse, England, and  the
Netherlands, the obvious scheme of isolating and then.
destroying the house of Hapsburg, the stronghold of the
ancient faith, appeared to the Catholic, zealots to be a convincing proof' that Henry was still secretly a heretic;
although he went to mass, and performed other external
acts, still he must be at heart the enemy of their faith, for
he' was the enemy of both its bulwarks, Spain and Austria.
At the beginning of the seventeenth century, things had
taken such a course in Germany that a most favourable
opportunity presented itself for an energetic policy, with
command of men and money, for making conquests on the
eastern frontier of France.
The intestine quarrels which were raging there were very
favourable to foreign interference.. The dispute about the
succession in Juliers-Cleves furnished an excellent pretext
for it, and Henry intended to. take advantage of it to protect the right in Germany and to oppose the supremacy of
the Hapsburgs. As things were, in i6o9g-xo the great conflagration seemed to be smouldering which aftenvards broke
out. Henry was preparing to crush the power of Spain and
the Hapsburgs, when, just as he was about to join the
army, he was struck by Ravaillac's fatal blow, on the a4th'
of May, x6xo.
So far as we know, the assassin was an isolated fanatic
who, like many others, believed that Henry was still a
heretic.
Much has been brought forward to prove that a deeplylaid plot existed; and it is remarkable that -a report had
been spread abroad in the world that Henry would die a
violent death.
That they triumphed over the heretic's death at Rome
and Madrid, only proves how low the political conscience
there had sunk, not that they were in league with the
assassin.  The immediate consequences of the murder
were most disastrous. It threw France back into confusion and convulsions for fifteen years, and lamed the arm
of her foreign policy for half a lifetime, and until Richelieu
gained a firm footing. But when this was over, the begin6
ning made by Henry IV. was continued and completed
The murder effected nothing but delay.
26




PART VII.
THE GERMAN EMPIRE, FROM  THE PEACEJ OF A'GS.
BURG TO THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR, Is55-i618.
CHAPTER, XXX
GENERAL SITUATION OF GERMANY* AFTER rI55S
Impotence of the Empire.-Continuance of the Contest'of the. Creeds.
GERMANY, of all the nations of the'Continent, had
passed through, -most thoroughly, from its very beginning, that great mental, moral, vital process which we call
the Reformation.
The breach with the ancient Church, in other lands the
work of monarchical ambition and political calculation, was
in Germany the act of the nation itself, and an act so
decisive that even some of its adversaries were'carried
along with it, and Charles V. had to strike sail before it.
The great political calculator learnt what he did not know
before-the power in history of the moral idea, which is
shown by the fact that even thegreatest minds cannot set'it
at defiance. A far greater than he made the experiment
once again, and was crushed in the attempt. The weakest
man in the ranks of a party, for whose cause he is ready to
die, has more weight than all these realistic great ones, who
accomplish nothing, because they.believe in nothing.
* Besides the before-mentioned literature: Londorp, Continuatio
Sleidani. Francof. I6i9. Schard, Epitome rer-gest. in dessen op.
hist. Buchholz,, Geschichte Ferdinands I. Vienna, i835. Anton,
Geschichte der Concordienformel. 1779. Hurter, Ferd. II., I854-59.
Hammerv. Klesel's Leben. I85I. Kluckhon, Briefwechsel des Kilrf'urs
ten Friedrichs IU. des Frommen, Von der Pfial. L;SS9.66.61. 




ELECTS OF'e1 REFORMATION.            403
The Reformation did not deprive Germany of its iunity.
We had, even then, none to lose; but that an opportunity
was lost, never to recur, of securing national unity with the
reform of the Church, was the fault of those who perhaps
might have secured it, but did not comprehend the situation, and wearied themselves in fruitless struggles against
the spirit of the age.
With the deep rent which took place in the nation, in
consequence of the imperial attitude, a time of increasing
national misery begins; but it was also a time of quiet preparation for those soaring mental flights upon which the
pride of our modern culture rests, and which could not be
attained at a lower price.
The nations which have not passed through this process
of inward renovation, or which have been brought through
it by force, have to lament it to this day; it almost seems
as if some were for ever lamed by it.
The religious Peace of I555 had at length given German
Lutheranism a legal existence, but it had not created a
lasting peace; indeed, it gave rise to almost as many new
feuds as it healed old ones. The victory of the principalities over the imperial power was far more decisive, forks
after Charles's last unsuccessful onslaught, it was completely
subdued. The empire was more than ever destitute of an
uniting centre, which was all the more unfortunate because,
though it could -not be said thai things were much changed
in Germany, they were all the more changed abroad.
The constitution of the German empire, or rather the
union of States in Germany, whose relations it controlled,
had long before, in fact, lost its monarchical' unity, and yet
the imperial territory had not experienced great or Important losses in the course of the last century, for the
neighbouring States were not in a position to extend themselves at its expense. It was this circumstance which saved
Germany from great losses during the dismal period of the
interregnum, and from Rudolph I. to Maximilian I., otherwise I know not what there was under Wenceslaus or
Frederic IIL to prevent the neighbours from plundering
Germany.
But now all this was changed. If up to the time of the
Reformation Germany had been surrounded by weak nations,
now several powerful States were on her frontiers A str6ng
monarchical power bad arisen in the Scandinavian Staates;




404 THE GER4MAN EMPIRE FRSOM  I 55 TO 16 i  8.
the same had begun to arise in France under Francis 1., ar.d,
after-thirty years of confusion, was completed under Henry
IV. On the north and west the situation of Germany was
different from what it had been for centuries. No one had
before imagined that Denmark or Sweden could be dan.
gerous to the German countries on the Baltic, or that
France might possess herself of the Western provinces.
But all these dangers were now at hand, and the, neighbouIs'
temptation was great in proportion as Germany's power of
resistance was small.
It was now that the first great losses of German territory
occurred. Much of the kingdom of Arelate had been lost
before;,but these were possessions which it was difficult to
maintain. Now, however, important -territories, Curland,
Livonia, arnd Esthonia, were first lost, and the Burgundian
provincek estranged. When Spain began the war against
the religious and political liberties of the Netherlands, the
empire was not in a position to enforce its old claims,
How often did the Netherlands pray -that the ancient
imperial power might be asserted! how earnestly did the
Orange party pray for protection against Spain l But the
German Hapsburgs approved the policy of their Spanish
relatives, and the German empire was thinking of nothing
but the conversion, of the heretics.  A11 great political
questions were obscured by those relating to religious
creeds; the loss of the countries on the Baltic, of the
Netherlands, even of the three bishoprics of Lorraine,
occupied very little of the attention of the Diet. The disputes about the interpretation of the Peace of Augsburg,
and the ecclesiastical reserves, took up nearly the whole of
its time.
To these symptoms of increasing external weakness
were added numerous causes of endless internal disputes
which immediately conduced'to the catastrophe.
The Peace of x555 was incomplete. It-contained dubious
and pbscure clauses enough; and had there been fewer,
that peateable, conciliatory spirit was wanting on both sides
without which no union could be effectual. The Peace
granted toleration to the adherents of the Augsburg Confession only, not to the. other Reformers; and yet the number
of them was considerable. It gave rulers, but not subjects,
a claim to toleration, which was the occasion of great diffi.
culties, and the great question about benefices and dignities




He PFEACE OF AUGSBURG..               405S
and the subjects of converted ecclesiastics, was treated in a
clause of secondary legal authority.
During the time when both parties should have been
accommodating themselves to this imperfect Peace, occurred
the restoration of the' Catholic Church, the Council of
Trent, the establishment of the order of Jesuits, the restoration of the Inquisiti6n, and the censorship of the press.
The party which was defeated at Passau and Augsburg saw
a powerful support growing up for it on the other side of the
Alps, and thus that which might have made the situation
tolerable, the honest desire to agree as well as might be,
was wanting.  Neither party had given up the idea of
upsetting the peace: the Protestants, of throwing overboard
the ecclesiastical restrictions and the principle of exclusion;
the Catholics, of tearing up the whole treaty, in order to
bring about a complete restoration.
During the third and fourth decades there had been no
idea of any such schemes; but now courage for them was
restored. Popes like Paul IV., kings like Philip II,, openly
said that heresy must be extirpated from,the face of the
earth, and the unity of the Church in the old medieval
sense restored. Very-little more is required to stir up a religious war than the fact that both parties chafe against union;
all.that is wanted is a spark to ignite the flame.  This idea
gave rise to the singular proposition of' 1648, that both
parties were bound not to regard the peace with disfavour,
lest they should experience another fearful civil war. -It
was the fault of both parties that the peace did not last.
An undisturbed peace was hardly to be looked for; the
odious conflict was still too fresh in the remembrance of
both parties; the idea of toleration, of the peaceful existence of differing creeds side by side, was essentially foreign
to the age; it did not even exist among the new sects for
each other; the passions evoked by the long strife were too
fierce; each side was too firmnly convinced that it was its
mission to convert the other; the Catholics were too much
engrossed with the idea of the supremacy of their Church,
the adherents of the new doctrines too much possessed
with that zeal for conversion which belongs to young creeds,
for any opinion to gain ground that it was better to have an
imperfect peace than open war.
Thus both parties vied with each other in preventing
men's. minds from settling down, partly because the irritatioa




,A1 I51     GEIR]M  EMPIRE TROM  p555 TO 16i8
of the barelyrely cornciled -dissensions. was still too grea,
partly because actual interests suffered in this perpetual state
of warfare,. and the provisions of the treaty were not suffiCient to solve complicated questions.  The Protestants,
split -up into different churches and sects, eould not proclaim this with so much emphasis as Roman Catholicism,.
as it was restored at Trent, whose apostles, the Jesuits,
openly preached a crusade against the heretics; but the
Protestats had as little conciliatory resignation as their
adversaries
Wars of religion were blazing up around Germany, and
spukS flew over and ignited the smouldering flame. In
France the conflict was raging between the Guises and the
Huguenots; in the Netherlands the Protestants were struggling with Alba and his successors,  German prinqes were
in connection with both camps. Similar events afterwar.4d
took place in England; a reaction on the position of both
parties in Germany was inevitable.
To add to this, it happened that during the sixth and
seventh decades of the century the conflict of the two great
floods, Reformation and Restoration, the Confession of
Augsburg and the dogmas of Trent, found a theatre upon
German soil. Until then Protestantism was in the ascendant, inasmuch as it had done what the Catholic Church
had so long neglected to do: it had, with surprising success,
possessed itself of the whole of- intellectual'life, of litera.
ture, of the modem  Humanistic culture, and of education.
The most distinguished names in every branch of learning
and authorship-were Protestant in greatly' preponderating
numbers, and their public was almost the whole intellectual
aristocracy of the nation.
After the sixth and seventh decades a sort of reaction
took place. Jesuitism, in accordance with its' principles,
began to employ modern weapons in a manner, totally
different from the monastic orders, who at last were ignorant
of the world and of learning.
Jesuitism was not wanting in talent, learning, or skilful
dialectics, and, thus equipped, it appeared upon the arena
to defeat the adversary with its own weapons.
This contest was the jrelude to the Thirty Years''Wa.




CHAPTER XXXI.
PROTEST ANTISM IN AUSTRIA.
Ferdinand I., t558-64 - Maximilian II., 1564-76. —Rudolph II.,
t576-1612. - The Bohemian Royal Charter (Majestdtsbrief),
i609.-Duke Maximilian of Bavaria and tule Imperial City of
Donauw6rth. f606-7. - The Protestant Union, 6o03, and the
Catholic League, (6o9.-Matthias, 1.612-19.
FERDINAND I., I558-64. —MAXIMILIAN IT., 1564-76.RUDOLPH II., 1576-I6I 2.
M\rEANWHILE a country had been attacked by ProJIL testantism which had hitherto been free from it-the
hereditary Austrian dominions-and within a short period
it was embraced by a great majority of the inhabitants.
It came to pass in thls way.-Since the time of Fcrdinand I., the determined and energetic opposition to-ProtestantiAm  had been discontinued.  Deeply affected, as
may be' imagined, by the. fate of his brother, Ferdinand
began to entertain doubts' of the wisdom of the attitude
he had hitherto assumed. Formerly one of the hotspurs
in persecuting the heretics, he had now almost broken
with Rome, and expressed himself more emphatically
than any of the German princes against the introduction
of the decrees of the Council of Trent. The misunderstanding with Rome made him mote lenient towards the
heretics, the decided exclusion of the new doctrines from
the country ceased, and so Protestantism began to make
its way into Austria, and to unite itself with all the elements, national and political, of this diversified empire.
He was succeeded in I564 by Maximilian II., elected
King of Rome in i562) who, in fact, was above party spirit,
disapproved of the abuses of the ancient church, and considered the divisions of the Protestants about trifles highly
absurd. He equally disapproved of the intolerance of both




408 THE GERMAN EMPIRE FROM  I555 TO I6I8.
parties, and was therefore looked upon by the Protestants
as a Jesuit, by the Catholics as a secret heretic.
It was unfortunate for him that he lived at a time when
there was no appreciation of his tolerant spirit and lofty
views. His proceedings in Austria showed that he earnestly
desired toleration; he allowed the landowning nobility to
permit the preaching of both the new and old doctrines on
their estates.
This was the first breach with the old system in Austria,
a toleration of both forms. The Emperor's idea seemed to
be, Fight out your quarrel with each other; both. shall
have light and space: For the planting of Protestantism it
was really a great step. Between x564 and I576 the new
doctrines spread over nearly the whole of Austria, not only
in the great cities, but also in the country. Catholicism
was renounced by the peasantry, and the German nobles,
almost without exception, had embraced Protestantism.
We know, from his own expressions, that in Styria Ferdinand
II. celebrated the communion according to Catholic usage
with but few others, and that in Gri.tz and the neighbour.
hood Protestantism was quite in the majority,  In Bohemia
it was based on old Hussite memories.  Bohemian historians have told us how all forms of non-Catholicism were
spread in Bohemia and Moravia. The Tyrol alone remained the unassailed fortress of Catholicism; the small
number of towns, the want of contact with the outer world,
the predominating peasant character of the population, with
but few nobles or superior clergy, its being surrounded with
ecclesiastical principalities, caused the Tyrol to remain
almost exclusively true to the old faith.
Rtidolph II.* was entirely unlike the previous Hapsburgs.
Brought up in Spain, and endowed with a strong tendency
to'the Spanish melancholy, which from this time ran in the
blood of a part of the house of Hapsburg, and in his case,
after I6oo, led to attacks of real mental disease, he became
the tool of women and Jesuits. His character was an
unhappy mixture of self-will, passion, weakness, sensuality,
and, when his rage was spent, abject subjection to others.
He was incapable of doing any lasting good, and was just
the man to occasion unspeakable confusion.
Under him, the Jesuits, who had hitherto been only
* Gindely, Rudolph IL. Also his Geschichte des Bhmischen Majes.
t1tsbriefes," i858.




RUtOLPH  I.                     409
tolerated, came into power.  They got possession of his ear
and conscience, were his confessors, directors, and ministers.
During the greater part of his life Rudolph lived in retirement at Prague, mostly occupied wvith learned fancies. Now
and then breaking out into unbridled excesses, then repenting like a child, and submitting to his Jesuit confessors;
one day interfering with tyrannical temper, the next broken.
spirited, dejected, and apathetic; his was a character well
adapted to set a ferment going which should shake the
empire to its depths. At first Protestantism made all the
more progress during these contradictory tactics.
The Emperor's incompetence to rule soon led to real
difficulties, which the States could only get over by formally
entrusting the guidance of business to Matthias,  Rudolph's
brother, in April, i6o6.  To Secure some support against the
Emperor's revenge, the Regent felt himself obliged to make
great concessions to the Austrian Protestants, and especially
to grant liberty of religious -vorship t6 the burgher class.
This example spread. Even under the clement Maxi.
milian the Bohemians had only enjoyed limited religious
liberty. They now extorted from the weak Emperor the most
liberal religious edict' issued in thle seventeenth century.
This was the Bohemian Royal Charter (Majesteitsbrief of
txtb- July, x6o9, which contained the following regulalions --
All adherents, wihout excemlion, of the Confession de.
livered to the Emperor Maximilian in.575, the associated
States, lords, nobles, the city of Prague, the mining and
other towns, are granted complete liberty in the exercise of
*their religion in every place'; they will not be interfered
with in their faith, religion,''priesthood, or'Church order,
until there is an entirely uniform  religion -in the Holy
Empire. The government oi the Protestant churches is to
be in the hands of —a pecial consistory at Prague; they are
to be protected by their own advocates, to be nominated by
the Protestants, as are also the officers in the universities;.
-the appointments arme:erely to be confirmed by the Emperor, but no instructions are to be received Irom him. The
erection of new churches and schools is freely permitted to
every Protestant commun'ity in tonva  and country, as well as
to every one in thlie States. Nao one, not -even the Emperor,
has any right to interfere wit these liberties; any proceedings against them are null tad void,.  Dispites'are to be




410 TM t  GERMAN EMPIRE FROM  I 5 $ 5.TO  6 x 8.
adjusted by a court of umpires, composed of parties from
both sides, not of imperial officials.
In the following month a similar charter was granted to
the Silesians, only that it was still more expressly stated
that all and every inhabitant of the country, whether the
subjects of temporal or spiritual rulers, should have free
permission to enjoy their own religious worship.
The effect produced by the religious strife in a diversified
imperial body was different from what it would have been
in the simple-relations of a national State. There was very
little feeling of a united Austrian existence in the separate
dependencies; the' misgovernment of Rudolph II. Was not
calculated to produce it, and the religious discord re.
awakened the slumbering national and political differences.
In Bohemia the idea was -never far distant of again electing
a sovereign for itself; in Moravia and Silesia tendencies
to separation were becoming evident.  Hungary also was
uneasy-; even in the Gernian hereditary dominions the
Hapsburg dynasty never enjoyed so little popularity as
during the last quarter of a century; the monarchy was
altogether out of joint, and was threatened with dissolution.
Meanwhile parties had become more sharply opposed to
each other. The race of the more clement German princes
had died out; the sectarian spiritin both camps had greatly
increased and had inflamed men's passions. The Jesuits
had made two great conquests in Ferdinand of Styria and
Maximilian of Bavaria, and this hastened the crisis.
But little more than the existing hatred and discontent
was required to bring about a sanguinary conflict, and
during the early years of the seventeenth century the cause.
was to arise in Germany as well as in the Austrian hereditary States.
DUKE MAXIMILIAN OF BAVARIA AND THE IMPERIAL QCTY
OF DONAUW6RTH,* I606-o6.-THE UNION, i608, ARID THE
LEAGUE,'x6o9. —DEATHA  OF RUDOLPH II.-MATTHIAS;,
I612-19.
Among the'numerous infringements of the Peace of
Augsbnrg, the most dangerous and malicious was that which
occurred in the imperial city of Donauworth in x6o6-7.
* Lossen, Die Reichstadt Donauw6rth und Herzog Maximilian.
Munich, x866. Cornelius, Zur Geschichte der Grundung der Liga.
Iistorisches'sJrbuch, xi65. Ritter, Geschichte der Union, i86.




TAKING OF DONAUWORTH.               411,
Donauworth was a Lutheran imperial city,'in which, after
the end of the sixteenth century, no Roman Catholic was
admitted as a citizen. It had a Catholic monastery, which
was tolerated on the express condition that no procession
with banners should be allowed, within the city.
The abbot and his monks found this inconvenient, and
disobeyed the order several times.  The council warned
them in vain, and when, in April, I6o6, a solemn procession
with banners again proceeded through' the city, the rabble
fell upon them with clubs and drove them back into the
monastery.
Many scenes of this sort had happened in the empire,
and some more glaring than this, but they resulted in
nothing but a vast amount of scribbling, quarrelling, and
complaining, But this time it was otherwise.
Duke Maximilian of Bavaria interfered in the matter,:
first on his own account, and then armed with an. imperial
execution.  He was a fanatical pupil'of the Jesuits, who at
the begnning of his reign had taken vigorous proceedings
against the heretics, and the Lutheran city'had long been a
thorn in his side. As his first interferer~ce produced no
effect, he turned to the imperial court of Prague, where,
according to credible testimony, everything was -to be done
with money; even the tardy imperial justice overcome..
With astonishing rapidity in August, I607, an imperial
mandate of execution appeared, which, Duke Maximilian
was empowered to enforce.
With an army outnumbering the population of the city by
two thousand, he feared intervention from the Protestant
States, especially from the Elector Palatine —he advanced
to the city, took it without a blow, and began, with those
means so dear to religious reaction, to convert it to Catho-:
licism. At first all that they desired was a place where the
Catholic officials and soldiers might attend.service; thern to
possess half the churches, then all of them, and when that
was refused they quartered soldiers on -the faithful inhabitants until they should be convinced of.the truth of the
Romish faith.
The blow struck by the Duke against the imperial
Swabian city in the midst of peace, made an immense
sensation. It was illegal to proceed with the execution of
the imperial. ban,. for the electors had not been consulted;
and it was an open offence to the Protestaint States to comrn




A Z T'IHE GERMAN EMPIRE FROM  I555 TO I618.
mit it to a prince who did not belong to Swabia, tb say
nothing of the military importance of the city as a pass of
the Danube and a frontier town between Swabia, Bavaria,
and Franconia.
The Protestant States of South Germany, the Electoral
Palatinate, Wiirtemburg And Neuburg at their head, agreed
to naintain  a united attitude at the next Diet. There it
came to a vidlent dispute and complete divisioh. Duke
Maximilian revealed continually more -openly that he cared
less about the affair at Donauw6rth'as a victory of the good
cause, than as a conquest of the cormtry and people. The
violent acts of Ferdinand against the Protestants in Styria
did all they could to increase the excitement; so on May
4th, x6o8, a union of a number of protestant princes took
place for mutual protection against further infringements of
the constitution.
The first to sign it were Frederic, Elect6r of the Palatinate; Philip Louis, Count Palatine of Neuburg; the Margraves Christian of Culmbach, Joachim of Anspach, John
Frederic of Baden-Durlach, and John Frederic, Duke of
Wiirtemburg. Only a part of the Protestant princes joined
in it, and therein lay a foolish and fatal error. Not'that
grounds of complaint or incitements' to opposition measures
were wanting; but they should have thought twice whether
it would not further the breach of the peace if their camp
were openly divided into two parties, and they should not
have formed a league which was, as it were, still-born-for so
it was, since all Protestants did not join in it. Because the
Electoral Palatinate was at the head, Saxony held aloof
and stirred up enmity against it; even those who did join
in it were not all agreed.
The answer to this was the;Catholic League Of July 0o,
6og9, formed by Duke Max, the Archduke Leopold of
Austria, the Bishops of W&iirburg, Ratisbon, Augsburg,
Constance, Strasburg, Passat, and several abbots, for
the protection of the imperial laws, but also-there was no
mention of religion in the documents of the Union-for
the protection of the Catholic religion and its adherents.
The League was a union only in nalse; it was in reality
the creation and tool of an energetic and resolute prince,
who knew how to make the ecclesiastical princes of South
Germaty understand that the question for them, was to be
or not to be ard that therefore they must put their hands




THE UNION AND THE LEAGUE             413
in their pockets. Duke Max created an excellent army out
of the means of the League, of Bavarians commanded by
Bavarian leaders. He had some tolerably extensive projects
in view; we have memoirs from which it appears that he
tried to obtain the co-operation of Spain and the Pope. It
is noteworthy, on the contrary, that he systematically aimed
to form the League without the help of Austria. He projected, as has been remarked even on the Catholic side, a
little Catholic Germany under Bavarian hegemony, as a
closer league in alliance with Austria.'
The League had some significance. It had a head, and
an army which could take up arms at the first moment of
alarm. The Union had neither, and would probably fall to
the ground from internal weakness.
Any accident might furnish the pretext for a'tremendous
war.  This was the opportunity sagaciously chosen by
Henry IV. to interfere in German affairs. - His death postponed the struggle.
Meanwhile disorder was increasing in the hereditary
Hapsburg dominions. Opposition, to attempts at forcible
conversions grew to open revolts. pRudolph was quite incompetent to allay the storm. His relatives met together,
and in consequence of his " weakness of mind "-so it was
said in a treaty with Hungary-appointed his brother
Matthias his guardian. He was a man without character,
pushed forward by vain ambition, who always succeeded in
fomenting discontent, never in allaying it.
He played with fire, incited the people against his
brother, entered into conspiracy with the malcontents in
Hungary, Moravia, and German Austria against the
Emperor, deprived him of his -lands and crown, and yet
was too weak to quell the revolt of the States.
Thus it was that the events took place which seemed to
make the dissolution of the Imperial States probable. In
the hereditary dominions Rudolph was deposed in Hungary.
He had to delegate the administration to Matthias. He
tried to keep a hold on the Bohemians by means of the
Royal Charter, but even they revolted, and threw themselves
into the arms of the leaders of the opposition, who promised them still more. On the 2oth January, t6i2, he
died, a landless prince, worn out by madness and disease,
deprived of all his crowns.
The seven years' reign of the Emperor Matthias (X6x2 19)




41+4 THE GERMAN EMPIRE FROM  1555 TO.I68.
was the bitterest chastisement for himself. He had to learn
that it is an easier task to ruin a weak ruler, amidst general
revolt, than to master the spirits that he has called up.
Rudolph just escaped from the crisis without bloodshed,
but the flames of civil- war were to close round the head of
his successor. He also shared Rudolph's fate. The Archdukes appointed a guardian for him in the person of Ferdi-'nand of Styria, and when he died Bohemia and Austriawere in open rebellion.
Ferdinand began his government in Bohemia with a
crying infringement of the Charter, by closing the churches
at Braunau, and destroying those at Klostergrab. In May,
16I8, the insurrection broke out at Prague.'The hated
imperial ministers, Martinitz and Slavata, were thrown out
of. window, "according to good- old Bohemian custom," as
was said by one of the nobles present; a sort of provisional
government was established, and an army taken into pay.
This was the beginning of the Thirty Years' War, and on
the same heights where an end was put to the winter
kingdom, the contending parties afterwards.exchanged
their last shoW




PART VIII.
MST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR,-THE
BOHEMIAN, PALATINATE, AND DANISH WARS,
1620o.29.
CHAPTER XXXI.*
First Acts of Ferdinand II. from March, x6x9. — His Character and
Education.-Beginning of his Reign in Revolutionary Austria.Election of Emperor, August, r6i9.-The Winter Kingdom o1
2Frederick V., and the War in Bohemia.-The Battle of Weissen.
berg, near Prague, 8th November, I620.-The Catholic Reaction
in Bohemia and the Palatinate, t621,
FIRSI ACTS OF  FERDINAND  II. —-CHARACTER AND EDUATION.-BEGINNINT  OF HIS REIGN IN REVOLUTIONARY
iAUSTRLA.-ELECTION OF EMPEROR, AUGUST, x6i9.
E VER since the beginning of the seventeenth century,
all those differences-national, political, and rcligious
— had been sti:red up in Aiustfia on the suppression of
which the ingenious construction of the empire depended.
General literature. Besides that bibfore mentioned, Khevenhiller's
Annales Ferdinandei. Leipzig, 1x76. TheAmurn Europaeum. Frank.
fort, i632. Galeazzo Gualdo Priorato, Historia di Ferdinando III. T. I.
Londorp, Acta publica. iMenzel.- Leon.-Pappus ep. rer. germ. ed
Arndts. x856.  Senkenberg's Fottsetzung von Hiiberlin's Reichsgeschichte. Mailath, Geschichte des Osterreich. Kaiserstaats, 1837.
Mebold, dler dreisigjahrige Krieg. I840.  S1ltl- der Religionskrieg
in Deutschland. Hamburg, z839.-Up to 1830, Wolf, Geschichte der
Kurfiirsten Maximilian Herausg. von Breyer, I807.  Von Aretin,
Geschichte Maximilians, Passau. 1842. The same: Baiern's Aus.
wiirtige Verbaltnisse, Passau. I839. Von Rommel, Geschichte von
Hessen. Hiusser, Geschichte der Pfalz. Miuller, K. A. fiinf Biicher
vom B6hmischen Kriege. Leipzig, 1841. Peschek, Geschichte der
Gegen Reformation in B6hmen. Leipzig, 1844. V. d. Decken Geo. v.
Braunschweig und Liineburg.  Villermont, Comte de Tilly, 1859
Erdmanwd~ rfer, C. E, v. Savoy e   62




416 FIRST PHIASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WARe
This unusual situation required unusual measures. In order
to render Rudolph's weakness innocuous, the family council
of the Archdukes met together and appointed Matthias
regent and as he also proved incompetent, similar measures
were adopted in his case.
In going through the ranks of the Archdukes, Ferdinand
of Styria was the rmost distinguished.  He was the son of
Duke Charles of Styria, and cousin to Matthias.  He certainly had not the first claim; but of those who stood before
him several were ecclesiastics, others childless, so that the
family agreed to depute him as the most suitable to take
upon himself the cares of empire.
Ferdinand was one of the fitst pupils of the Jesuits
among the German princes, and grew up a thorough disciple
of the society in his ideas and aimns, was adapted rather for
the pulpit or the confessional than the throne, and early
bound by fanatical vows the fulfilment of which probably gave
him more trouble than he anticipated. He had early vowed to
use all possible means toextermninate heresy, and was resolved
rather to reign over a desert than over a heretical country.
This was fearfully fulfilled, for he did indeed leave a
desert behind him, in which; nevertheless, heresy was not
quite extirpated.
~He was one of those characters who in the hands of the
priests are capable of terrible things; hle was destitute of
bold and original ideas, but was one of those quiet souls
who hold to the creed of their adoption at the peril of their
lives, and are ready to sacrifice for it all that has hitherto
been dear to them.  He was more fit for the pupil of a
college of priests, than for the task of ruling this great crisis
in a conciliatory spirit, and of closing the abyss of civil war.
Almost the whole of the empire was a prey to heresy
and revolt. When in  5 96 he began to'reign in Styria,
Carinthia, and Carniola, it was with the determination to
subjugate all enemies of the true faith and absolutism, and
his country was the only monarchy where thi:i plan succeeded.  He declared that he would rather beg, or be cut
in pieces, than submit to heresy any longer.  Catholic
priests were sent to the Protestant peasantry, and when
they rebelled they were brought to submission by force.
He,,who was not converted within a certain time was
obliged to emigrate; schools and churches were razed to
the ground; many thousands of Bibles and books of sermons




FERDINAND  H.                      417
were burnt; the rebellious people were treated with banishment, dragoonades, and the gallows; and when the unhappy
creatures appealed to the ordinances of Maximilian II.> they
were told that rulers were not bound by pernicious charters.
In his private life Ferdinand  appears to have led a
simple, strictly moral life. His character, though narrow
and rigid, was not cruel-at-least not from brutal lust of
power.. As to what is adduced by his defenders, that he
shed tears at the execution of the cruelties he ordained, I
believe that he considered these victims to be demanded by
his faith —that he was a genuine fanatic, who would have given
his life could he have reclaimed all heretics with one blow.
The broad views of a ruler who is above all parties, and
gives every one his due in his own sphere, were in those
days the privilege of-a few superior men, like William  of
Orange and Henry IV. F erdinapd was utterly destitute of
them, and his education had taught him to look upon all
toleration of this sort as an attack upon religion.
The previous policy, therefore, first of toleration, and
afterwards of weakness, was regarded by him as the greatest
-evil; and the close connection which then existed in
Austria  between heresy and all tendencies to political
liberty and national disintegration conduced to confirm the
view that, as guardian of the unity of the empire, he must
place himself in an attitude of defence against a dangerous
revolt. t
The first person, therefore, to be deprived of all influence
was Cardinal KUesel, in whom Ferdinand saw weakness and
half measures personified.
e From a manuscript of 8oo pages, in the Bibl. Royale (Mss. fr. N.
964, St. Victor), containing notes by the Papal Nuncio of an eight years'
sojourn in Germany, Hiusser quotes the following passage about Ferdinand: —"Ferdinand II., en Age de cinquante et un an, de mediocre
stature, de forte complexion, de poil tirant sur le roux, d'agrbable presence, affable et civil envers tout le monde. Ii boit peu, ne dort encore
moins, ayant accoustum6 de se coucher A dix heures et de se lever A
quatre et quelquefois devant. Quant A sa pietd envers notre religion
on n'en saurait rien dire qui ne soit au dessous de la vdrit,  Toutes les
fetes solennelles et principalement celle des douze ap6tres, il frequenle
dans sa chapelle les cr6emonies de confession et de communion. Le
jeudi saint il re oit la communion avec l'Imp6ratrice son spouse et avec
les princes ses fils, de la main du nonce de St. Sidge, pour apprendre a
ses sujets par son exemple a satisfaire a ce commandement de 1'Egise,1"
&c.-ED.
t See the declaration made to the Court of Spain in Khuvenhille
and the letter to Philip'/dI., 7th September, I6og —Raumer, VoL lL
27




418 FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
Klesel was a parvenu of the lowest kind, with all the
worst characteristics of such persons. He was a fawning
courtier, yet had a strong inclination for absolute power;
possessed morepliant talent thanstrongly m arked character,
andwas therefore well adapted to serve a man like Matthias
as adviser and tool.  He maintained a policy of studied
clemency and conciliation; advised every country to yield
as much as possible, as this was in accordance with the
views of Matthias, and appeared to be the only practicable
plan. Then came the revolution in the palace; Klesel was
carried off one morning as a state criminal and thrown into
prison, because he had pursued a policy at his Emperor's
side which was abhorrent to the archdukes.
After Klesel's disgrace, Ferdinand became the leading
man, and on the death of Matthias, 2oth of March, I619,
he was indisputably the next heir to the throne.
He came to Vienna and found things just as they had
once been in Styria; the whole country filled with Protest.
antism; the citizens, the nobles, and peasants in the
country, almost all openly addicted to heresy. Not far
from Vienna was Count Thurn with his Bohemian soldiers.
Bethlen Gabor was advancing from Hungary, and a large
party in the capital were resolved to make common cause
with them. The Emperor's life was scarcely secure; commotions took place like those at Prague; armed citizens
forced an entry into the palace to demand religious liberty.
The leaders shook him by the doublet, exclaiming: " Nandel,
give in; thou must sign." It nearly came to establishing a
provisional government over him, and had the rebels beet
daring enough they might have seized his person.
In these times of distress, Ferdinand comported himself
like a man; a storm had to be braved before which many
would have quailed. He did brave it, and, like many other
people in history, he found it easier to bear misfortune than
success.
A happy chance-the timely arrival of a regiment of
cuirassiers-saved the Emperor from his rebellious people.
Now there was a great question to solve, on which depended the immediate future of the house of Hapsburg —the
election of Emperor.
The imperial dignity no longer conferred absolute power;
it brought neither an army nor a treasury. If, therefore,
Ferdinand reckoned upon defeating the rebels in Prague




FERDTINAND II.               419
and Vienna with the power of the German imperial crown,
he was mistaken.
It did nevertheless possess some significance. There are
many things in life which seem worthless when we have
them, but which it is an immense disadvantage to lose.
This was the case with the imperial dignity. The loss of it
at this juncture would have been a verdict pronounced upon
the house of Hapsburg by the German empire. The Czecks,
Magyars, Moravians, Silesians, the inhabitants of Vienna
themselves, were shaking the tottering house, especially
Ferdinand's authority. Germany was the last straw, the
plank to which the sinking hopes of the Hapsburgs were
clinging. Vienna was doubtful, Bohemia in open revolt;
Moravia, Silesia, and Hungary not far from it. The Tyrol
and Styria were not sufficient to support the throne; if
Germany forsook it, it was lost.
If the Electors chose the Archduke, he would have
something to hold by; the German empire at any rate would
have shown that it did not renounce the Hapsburgs.
Never, therefore, were they more desirous that the election
should fall on their house. If it did not, the house must
sink into the abyss of revolution.
For the German empire the situation was different
The interests of the two sides were at variance. If Ferdinand were elected, the empire must be engulfed in the
whirlpool of revolution in South and East Germany. It
would inherit a civil war which would suffice to ignite all
the inflammable materials in Germany. The state of
parties in the empire was just such as to give rise to fears
of a dangerous outbreak; how would it be if the uncompromising fanatic of the extreme restoration were called to
the head of affairs?
Undoubtedly had there been at that time a prince in
Germany worthy of the dignity, and sufficiently unbiassed
in religious matters to give both parties their due, his election would have been most desirable, and might perhaps
have spared Germany the horrors of the Thirty Years' War.
But there was not, and Germany was engulfed in a most
fearful struggle.
Ferdinand's election was disputed from the first, for the
Bohemians no longer acknowledged him; but this was of
little use if they had no other candidate. The impotence
of the Union came to light; the Protestants were divided




420 FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS''WAR.
within and without: they abhorred the idea of a Jesuit
Emperor, but had only empty ranks and impracticable
proposals to oppose to him. In the meddling Palatinate, the
candidateship to the imperial dignitywas, as it were, hawked
about the streets, and yet there were no bidders.
Scarcely escaped from the attack of the Bohemians,
Ferdinand came to Frankfort through the enemy's country,
to the election.
After six months of angry negotiation and correspondence, they had not even agreed in the Protestant camp
upon a protest against Ferdinand as a candidate, though he
had been declared to be' disqualified by the Bohemians, so
that when the day of election came, his victory was as good
as decided. It was the first step out of the crisis by which
Austria had so long been convulsed.
Had it been previously known that just when the electors were announcing Ferdinand's election, the Bohemians
had gone a step further, had deposed King Ferdinand and
proclaimed a new election, they would perhaps have reconsidered the subject, or at any rate have put off the election.
But it was now too late; the electors had to submit to the
logic of facts which they had themselves helped to bring to
pass.
THE WINTER  KINGDOM  AND  THE WAR IN BOHEMIA,
i619-22.-BATTLE OF PRAGUE, 8TH NOVEMBER, 162o.
The choice of the Bohemians during the same days of
Nugust fell upon the head of the Union, the Elector Palatine Frederic V., because, so it was stated, "he is a very
discreet gentleman, possessing great qualities, and is acquainted with divers languages," because " he has a power.
ful and well-trained people, and is in alliance with great
foreign powers, England, Holland, and Switzerland." In
Bohemia, they knew neither the internal weakness of the
Union nor the untrustworthiness of its foreign allies; they
believed in it, and looked for help from it which it could
never afford.
Frederic V. was married to Elizabeth Stuart, a daughter
of James V. The marriage had been hailed with joy in
England, as a family alliance between the still suspicious
English king and the leader of German Protestantism, and
Parliament was afterwards always ready to send subsidies to




THE WINTER KINGDOM.               42I
the Elector. This connection with England had great
weight with the Bohemians.
The Elector vacillated a long time; and when he did
arrive at a decision, it was not, as has been long supposed,
the result of his wife's influence, but of other things.  He
was personally a very insignificant ruler-amiable in private life, a patron of artists and learned men, but wholly
incompetent for grave political business, to say nothing of
undertaking a great venture; he was always dependent on
the advice of others, and was not a man who, in critical
moments, would resolve to stake everything, as was necessary in such a situation.  He was influenced by ambition
not to give up the leadership which had been for a generation in his family, by the hope of aid from England, and in
great part by the help of a number of people who then
ruled the policy of the Palatinate-landless princes, younger
sons of younger brothers. Such an one among ofters who
eagerly advised him to accept the crown was Christian of
Anhalt; then came the suggestions of the clever but misguided Ludwig Camerarius, and the Calvinist confessor
Scultetus.*
Thus it came to pass that at the end of October,  6I9,
" the Palatinate went to Bohemia.'
Frederic V. hoped to find strength in Bohemia, and the
Bohemians hoped for strength from him. But he found
only a Sclavonian revolution, uncontrollable nobles, and a
state in process of dissolution, over which the aristocracy
wanted to rule themselves. Everybody was relying upon
somebody else, and everybody was deserted.
Bohemia was chiefly ruled by the Sclavonic party, at the
head of which were a number of ambitious nobles, and the
majority of the people revelled with them in the recollection
of the national monarchy of the fifteenth century. The new
King at once ruined his cause with both parties: with the
nobles, because he would not listen to their claims to take
part in the government, and only followed the advice of
Anhalt and Camerarius; with the people, by his singular
way of life and Calvinistic narrowness. An antiquated and
somewhat pedantic mode of life prevailed in Bohernia, and
there were deeply-rooted prejudices against the licentious
courts of those days; but the young Elector Palatine and
his whole court were infected with French frivolity to a
a Upon this section see Hiusser, Geschishte der Pfalz. —-E.




422 FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
degree which could not but offend the strict views of the
Pohemians.  Frederic's demure Calvanism was a curious
contrast to the gallantry of the men and women of thecourt;
he belonged to the Reformed party, while the Bohemians
were  Lutherans.  He had, indeed, acknowledged unconditional religious liberty in Bohemia; but the zealots about
him, Scultetus at their head, would not rest until, in the
principal church at Prague, all images, pictures, and relics
were cleared away, and the beautiful church converted into
a Calvinistic meeting-house. The irritation produced by
differences of creed increased, and contributed more than
anything else to estrange the people from their king. They
were at variance in language, nationality, manners, and creed.
It would have been a miracle had prosperity ensued.
Ferdinand had not the power to subject Bohemia by force
of arms. lie had acquired moral importance as Emperor,
but the dignity did not provide him with money or troops.
I e was therefore compelled to throw himself into the arms
of the League. The League was something different from
the Union; it was not an alliance in which every member
laid claim to many rights, and owned but few duties, but a
united organization in the hands of an energetic martial
l)rince, whose allies, so called, had only to provide funds.
The League now became, and remained for several years,
the leading p6wer in Germany.
On the 8th of October, I6I9, Ferdinand concluded a
treaty with his relative and the friend of his youth, Max of
Bavaria, in which the ltter took good care of himself.
It provided that the Duke should undertake the unconditional and exclusive command of the whole proceedings
against the rebellious heretics in Austria, Bohemia, and
Upper Austria; this last, indeed, had first to be taken as
security for indemnification for the expenses of the war. In
return, Max collected all his forces to assist the deserted
Emperor.
In i6o20 the war began.*
* In March of the new year the "Winter King " had addressed a
letter to Louis XIII. of France, asking for help, which HIlusser found
and made extracts from, among the MSS. of the Bibliothbque Royale,
entitled " Memoires pour l'Iiisoire d'Allemagne depuis I6x9 jusqu'a
I638." It is dated 24th March, 162o, and tries to prove that the
threatened war was entirely political and by no means religious in its
character; see, for example, the following passage: —" Mes actions
susy bien que mes d6clarations monstrent assez queje n'ay eu la pensce.




TIlE WAR IN BOHEMIA.                   423
Thewar might not belost if onlyit were rationally carried
on in Bohemia. Money, indeed, was wanting, and so were
efficient troops; but neither had Max any superfluity of
means, siaa would be lost unless he speedily gained a decisive battle.  In the Bohemian camp, therefore, it was
neeessary'to keep strictly to the defensive. In those days,
if a general htd not the means to pay his troops, there was
nothing else to keep them together-neither oath nor devotion to any person nor cause. This was one cause of thle
weakness of the army of the League, and it suffered also
from sickness, in consequence of the bad weather. Tlhe
army must have been dissolved if, on the Bohemian sidte,
they had known how to avoid a battle and to starve the
enemy by a tedious defensive war.
But just the contrary course was taken.  With a corps of
officers who caroused in camp instead of doingr their duty,
and ill-disciplined troops, they faced a well-trained army onethird greater in numbers. On the 5th of October, Christian
ot Anhalt took,up his position on the Weissenberg, near
Prague, and three days afterwards, notwithstanding his
personal bravery, sustained an ignominious defeat, which
decided the fate of the Winter Kingdom in an hour.
The rebels in Bohemia and Moravia immediately submitted; Mansfeld odlay carried on a hopeless banditti warfare
for months on his own account. Frederic fled to Silesia; at
Breslau appealed to the Union for help, and tried to incite
the Protestant States of the country to oppose the reaction
which, as he truly foretold, would take place against the
whole of Protestantism. But it was in. vain; here also they
submitted to the victorious Duke; that one battle had
ruined the cause. Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, and Lusatia
again belonged to the prince whom they had deposed a
year before. The Protestant princes watched with malicious
satisfaction the flight of the helpless Winter King, who, even
moins encore la volonte de faire ou permettre estre fait aucun desplaisir
i mes subjects de la religion catholique romaine i cause de la dite
religion, qu'au contraire j'ay et auray toujours en soin, particulier de
lea prot6ger 6galement avec les autres sans distinction." Should the
war really break out, he calls to mind the ancient alliance between the
Palatinate and Louis's father, and begs respectfully " qu'il vous plaise
me tendre la main de vostre bonne assistance fonde6 sur la confiance
que j'ay de vostre dicte bienveillance, et sur les voeux que j'ay fait de
conserver inviolablement l'affection h6r6ditaire que je porte au bien de
vostre couronne. "-ED.




424 FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
among his own relations, scarcely found even the refuge he
needed, to say nothing of succour.
The revolution in Bohemia had not been quelled by
Ferdinand, but by the League; yet the victorious cause was
common to both,-it was the cause of ecclesiastical restoration, of conversion by means of Jesuits and soldiers.
No foreign intervention was to be feared; the hopes of
the Winter King, of help from abroad, melted like spray before
the wind; his own inheritance soon became a prey to the
enemy; the distribution of the spoils of victory could begin.
Upon the way in which this was done, it depended whether
the war, which had hitherto scarcely been a German, far less
a European one, should develope into one of world-wide
importance.
THE ECCLESIASTICAL REACTION IN BOHEMIA AND THE
PALATINA TRE.
The dreaded crisis which had!b'en hanging over Germmny for decades had taken place. The supremacy of the
Emperor was decisively pronounced. One of the leaders
of German Protestantism was pitifully defeated; it was a
blow which could not but be severely felt by all German
princes; still, it was far yet from being a religious war.
If Ferdinand now zealously carried out the Restoration
in Bohemia, and declared thaf the charter was forfeited
because it had been infringed by the country itself, it was
no more than could be expected. It was but revenge for
the imprudent policy of I6I9-20, which was seen through
at once by every one except Frederic V. —that of taking the
course they did without the necessary means.
But it was another thing to show Bohemia who was
master by openly proclaiming the system of forced conversion, and carrying it out with sanguinary strictness. This
was the way to let loose the religious war, and to give occasion for foreign intervention.
With but a little moderation, Ferdinand and the League
might have obtained an easy victory in his own country,
and yet have disarmed suspicion at home and abroad. But
this they could not do.  Whether the fault was in the
times or in their personal passions, they went to work
rashly and inconsiderately, and the war ceased to be a
Bohemian or German, and became a European one.




ECCLESIASTICAL REACTION.             42 5
The Protestant Union was already entirely out of joint.
When, in the summer of I620, Spinola advanced up the
Rhine with Spanish soldiers, the Union had nothing to
oppose to them but an absurd reference to the imperial law
which forbade the presence of foreign troops in Germany.
This was before the catastrophe to their brother in the faith.
When 4afterrards Ferdinand appeared with the defiance of a
victor, the Union was dissolved, submitted ignominiously,
and the empire again resounded with jeers and malicious joy.
On the 29th of January, i621, Ferdinand had pronounced
the unhappy Frederic under the ban of the empire, and
appointed the Duke of Bavaria to execute the sentence.
Of all the forms prescribed by the constitution, even in
cases of proved guilt, not one was observed; the aggrieved
person, accuser and judge, was one and the same individual.
After this beginning, little clemency could be looked for
from the Emperor.
In June, 162, I a fearful reign of terror began in Bohemia,*
with the execution of twenty-seven of the most distinguished
heretics. For years the unhappy people bled under it;
thousands were banished, and yet Protestantism was not
fully exterminated. The charter was cut into shreds by the
Emperor himself; there could be no forbearance towards
" such acknowledged rebels."  As a matter of course, the
Lutheran preaching was forbidden under the heaviest
penalties; heretical works, Bibles especially, were talken
away in heaps. Jesuit colleges, churches, and schools came
into power; but this was not all.
A large number of distinguished Protestant families were
deprived of their property, and, as if that were not enough,
it was decreed that no non-Catholic could be a citizen, nor
carry on a trade, enter into marriage, nor make a will; any
one who harboured a Protestant preacher forfeited his property; whoever permitted Protestant instruction to be given
was to be fined, and whipped out of the town; the Protestant
poor who were not converted were to be driven out of the
hospitals, and to be replaced by Catholic poor; he who
gave free expression to his opinions about religion was to
be executed. In 1624 an order was issued to all preachers
and teachers to leave the country within eight days, under
pain of death  and finally, it was ordained that whoever
* See Reuss, La Destruction du Protestantisme en Bolhme. Stras.
burg, I867.




426 FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
had not become Catholic by Easter, I626, must emigrate.
Light and air, the simplest rights of man in a state, were
denied to the Protestants. But the real conversions were
few; thousands quietly remained true to their faith; other
thousands wandered as beggars into foreign lands; more
than thirty thousand Bohemian families, and among them
five hundred belonging to the aristocracy, went into banishment.  Exiled Bohemians were to be found in every
country of Europe, and were not wanting in any of the
armies that fought against Austria.
Those who could not or would not emigrate, held to their
faith in secret. Against them dragoonades were employed.
Detachments of soldiers were sent into the various districts
to torment the heretics till they were converted.  The
"Converters" (Seligmacher) went thus throughout all Bohemia, plundering and murdering. There were sanguinary
revolts; in some places they fortified and defended themselves to the uttermost. No succour reached the unfortunate people; but neither did the victors attain their end.
Protestantism and the Hussite memories could not be slain,
and only outward submission was extorted. Striking proof
of this appeared when Joseph II. published his Edict of
Toleration; and a respectable Protestant party exists to
this day in Bohemia and Moravia. But a desert was
crqated; the land was crushed for a generation. Before
the war Bohemia had 4,oo0,ooo inhabitants, and in 1648
there were but 700,000 or 8oo,ooo.
These figures appear preposterous, but they are certified
by Bohemian historians. In some parts of the country the
population has not attained the standard of 620o to this day.
As early as the summer of i622, the imperial policy
made way for itself into the inheritance of the "Winter
King " by an unparalleled piece of villainy.
A certain degree of unity and spirit had been introduced
into the planless banditti warfare which the adventurer
Mansfeld and the chivalrous Colonel Obertraut had been
carrying on in the Upper and Lower Palatinate against
Spain and Bavaria since the summer of I62I, when in April,
I622, the outlawed Elector Frederic suddenly appeared
among his faithful subjects in the Palatinate.
The brave Margrave, George Frederic of Baden, joined
Mansfield with a splendid troop, and obtained a brilliant
victory over the Bavarians under Tilly at Wiesloch.  In
spite of the defeat of the Margrave atWimpfen in May, and




CATHOLIC REACTION IN BOHlEMIA.    42]J
of the wild Christian of Brunswick, near H6chst, in June,
Frederic V. had in Alsace a strong and valiant army, when,
from his love of peace and confidence in his father-in-law,
James I., who was himself deceived, the unwary youth
allowed himself to be ensnared by perfidious negotiationsfirst, to suspend hostilities, and then to dismiss his army,
in older, as the diplomatic deceiver said, that peace might
be made.
Now that the P.ilatilate was laid open, and the Elector
disarmed, Tilly, who, at the first news of Frederic's arrival,
had given up the siege of the Dilsberg, could complete the
subjugation of the Palatinate in peace.  Nevertheless, it
was only with great difficulty that Heidelberg was taken in
September, and Mannheim in November, while the garrison
of Frankenthal defended themselves successfully against
him. With the Bavarian soldiers, who here, as everywhere,
behaved with great barbarity, came the Jesuits to destroy
this nest of Calvinism.  The Reformed ministers were
driven away, and were replaced by priests and monks; the
flourishing university was closed, and the treasures of its
world-renowned library dragged in fifty waggons to Rome.
The conversion of this out-and-out Protestant people was
begun with a certain moderation, but afterwards carried on
with more vigour. The Lutherans, who were at first spared,
had an opportunity here, as in Bohemia, of watching the ill.
treatment of the Reformed party with malicious satisfaction.
But their turn came next.
At the meeting of princes summoned by Ferdinand in
November, instead of a Diet, at Ratisbon, the dignity of
Elector Palatine was solemnly conferred on the victorious
Duke of Bavaria. The new Government at once distinguished itself by a passionate zeal for conversion. While
the dissolute conduct of the " Converters" (Seligmacher) in
Upper Austria was driving the obscure peasants to a desperate re olt, the Bavarians began to make the good old
Protestant country Catholic. It was more easily accomplished than in Bohemia and Upper Austria. The Papal
Nuncio, Caraffa, who was met there by almost unconquerable defiance, considered that the inhabitants of the Palatin-ate had passed through their second birth far more
painlessly than their brethren in the faith in Austria and
Bohemia. The witnesses of it were the many thousands of
*be inhabitants who left their fair country, and became
proverbial in Europe as refilgees from South Germany.




CHAPTER XXXII1.
a   DANISH WAR, x625-29, AND ALBRECUT o0
WALLENSTEIN.
Change of Sentiment.-The Protestant League: England, Hollanrd
Denmark, I625.-Christian IV. of Denmark.-Albrecht von ~Wal.
lenstein.-His Character.-The War of I626-8.-Defeat of Mans.
feld at Dessau, April, I626.-Defeat of Christian IV. at Lutter,
on the Barenberg, August, I626.-Wallenstein and Tilly in North
Germany, Mecklenburg, Stralsund, I628.-Peace of Lubeck, May,
1629. —The Edict of Restitution, March, i629, and its Significance.-Machinations of the League against Walle.nstein.-The
Meeting of Princes at Ratisbon. —Dismissal of Wallenstein, June,
I630.
CHANGE OF SENTIMENT.-THE PROTESTANT LEAGUE BETWEEN ENGLAND, HOLLAND, AND DENMARK, I625. —
CHRISTIAN IV. OF DENMARK.
T  HE affairs of I622-3 in Bohemia, Upper Austria, and
the Palatinate had a terribly irritating effect in and
beyond Germany.
When the Winter King hastened through Germany, fugitive and defenceless, after the lost battle, denied by his own
relations as a criminal, and avoided lik.e a leper, not a
single voice was heard in his favour; and when he warned
them in a public appeal that his cause was the cause of
Protestantism, that his defeat would result in the establishment of Spanish absolutism in Germany, he was met
with jeers by the Lutherans; and Saxony advised the
Silesian States not to be seduced by the rebels, or just that
which they wished to avert would happen.   Frederic's
father-in law, James I. of England, did not find it advisable,
from reasons affecting the legitimacy of rulers, to give a bad
example, by supporting a revolution; and, besides thi, he




FEAR OF CATHOLIC REACTION.            429
had promised Spain not to take any part but that of a
neutral mediator.
But these sentiments were changed when the consequences of such an attitude appeared.
The beginning of the brutal Catholic reaction, first in
Bohemia, then in Austria, showed what was meant by the
victory of the League. Then came the perfidious abuse of
James's mediation against his son-in-law, the deposition of
the Elector, and the forced conversion of the Protestant
Palatinate. All this, in spite of the fair speeches, for which
popular wit invented the name of " Spanish sleeping-cup,"
pointed to a Catholic reaction, in face of which no one was
secure against a system of compulsion which would overthrow
all law and usage.
At the meeting at Ratisbon, which was intended to give
an appearance of legality to the proceedings against the
Elector, there were  warnings  of opposition.  Pliant
Saxony spoke against his deposition, and even withdrew
her previous recognition of the ban; Brandenburg warmly
took the part of the Elector, whom she had hitherto contemptuously neglected.
In Lower Saxony ideas of armed resistance were already
rife, for the foreign soldiery was almost ruining the country,
when a change took place in England which opened up a
prospect of a great European coalition against Spain and
Hapsburg.
James I. and Buckingham, embittered by Spain's jesuitical intrigues, proposed it to Parliament in February, I624.
Parliament received it with joy, and with the assurance that
it was ready to defend the true religion and the rights of
the royal children with body and soul. When Mansfeld
arrived in London he was greeted with acclamation by the
whole population, up to the aristocracy, as the hero of
religious liberty.
From the well-known vacillation of the Government of
James I. and Buckingham, no persistent military interposition could be reckoned on; more energy was thrown into it
under his successor, Charles I., after March, x6a5, and the
Protestant League was at length an accomplished fact. A
treaty was entered into on 9th December, i625, at the Hague,
between England, Holland, and Denmark, the object of
which was a great expedition to the Continent, to oppose
the Hapsburgs and reinstate the Elector.




.30  FIlSA  PHASE O  THE THIRTY YEARS* WAR.
Negotiations had previously been entered into with
Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, but they had not been able
Io agree on the conditions, and the cautious Swedish policy
had rejected the project as rash and too extensive.
England was not in a position to carry on the war in
Germany on her own account; Holland was in the same
situation; they were both obliged to depend on subsidies
friom the warlike rulers of the Continent, and the help of
their fleets on the coasts.
King Christian of Denmark declared himself ready for
intervention. As Duke of Schleswig-Holstein, he was a
prince of the German Empire, and had been appointed
chief'of the district by the district of Lower Saxony; besides the hope of enriching himself in North Germany, it
was greatly to his interest that Catholic restoration should
be checked. The kingdom of Denmark had become what
it was solely through the Reformation and its results, political and ecclesiastical. Frederic I. and Christian III. had
caused the Reformation to be brought to their kingdom
proper from Schleswig, Holstein, and Jutland; their crown
first attained power and dignity through the destruction of
the temporal and ecclesiastical feudal system; so that for
this kingdom a religious restoration meant a return to the
ancient yoke under which it, in common with the burgher
and peasant class, had so long suffered.
Frederic II., 1559-88, and Christian IV. had diligently
aided in building up the new State and in giving it a healthy
domestic foundation.
The downfall of the mighty ecclesiastical system  had
indeed only been effected by means of an alliance of the
crown with the nobles, in which the latter had contrived
to secure the lion's share for themselves; they took care to
have their privileges, their power in the senate, their legal
jurisdiction and immunity from taxes, secured to them by
the bond as clearly as possible. Still, there was scope
enough left for the government to take quietly in hand the
emancipation of the middle classes, by means of a conscientious, economical government; by the lenient administration of laws in themselves severe; by having regard at
the same time to the finances of the State and the prosperity
of the people, by increasing their earnings, by rational
encouragement of trade and manufactures, by turning to
account the natural inclinations of this insular people for




tHRIST1AN IV. OF DENMARK.            43 
navigation and colonial enterprise-thus making the cause
of the monarchy the cause of the working population, who
now first began to lead a life worthy of men. Frederic II.
and Christian IV. accomplished this with skill and assiduity.
Up to the time of the war in Germany, Christian was a
beloved and successful monarch. A man possessing rare
gifts, a great variety of knowledge, and broad views, he laid
during his long reign the foundations of the material
prosperity which Denmark enjoyed until the last century.
He was at once thej first military organizer of Denmark,
and the founder of its domestic and commercial policy, thus
exhibiting qualifications not often combined. The foundation of the commercial cities of Christiania and Gliickstadt,
the exchange in Copenhagen, the introduction of uniform
weights and measures, the colonies in Iceland and Greenland, regular postal intercourse, the attempt to check
the commercial supremacy of the Hansa, and the formation of a standing army not composed of foreign hirelings,
but of native peasants led by Danish officers, all date fronhis time.
At the head of an efficient army, this monarch was.
power not to be despised, especially if the aid of England
and Holland were as trustworthy as it was readily promised.
As wearer of a crown to which the success of the Catholic
restoration would be a fatal danger-as a prince of the
German Empire, enjoying great influence in North Germany,
Christian IV. could not look on with apathy at the war in
Germany, besides which he might have an idea of rounding
off the possession of Holstein in Lower Saxony. So he
accepted the offer of England and Holland, and began the
war in North Germany, supported by some of the North
German princes who were influenced by similar considerations.
The war was not successful; at the very beginning of it
the army of the League occupied North Germany, and when
it came to a battle Christian was driven from the field, and the
Danish army pursued by Wallenstein back to its own country.
But the significance of this war lies elsewhere. About this
time Ferdinand II. succeeded in detaching himself from the
guardianship of the League, and in carrying on the war
with his own resources. The formation and triumphs of
this new anry are connected with Albrecht von Wallen,
stein.




432 FnIST?PIASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
ALBRECHT VON WALDSTEIN, OR WALLENSTEIN.
Wallenstein belonged to the nobility, but not to the ligh
Bohemian aristocracy. His parents and grandparents, and
his family, with few exceptions, were Protestants, but by a
singular dispensation, the young Albrecht, born r th September, i583, and early left an orphan, was adopted by an
uncle, one of the few of the family who had remained faithful to Catholicism, and he brought him back to the old
faith. He grew up as a pupil of the Jesuits. A Catholic
nobleman was a rarity in Bohemia.  He was introduced by
his uncle into the service of the Hapsburgs, and early distinguished himself  He performed a great service to the
Archduke Ferdinand, in Styria, in his war against the
Venetians, in I617; when the fortress of Gradiska was
besieged by the Venetians and closely pressed, he contrived
to convey rich stores of provisions to it through the ranks
of the besiegers; and, still more important than this, he
equipped a regiment from his own resources, whose officers
and troops adored him, and whose appearance was the
p)ride of the whole army. A talented young soldier, who
was at once a Catholic and an adherent of the house of
Hapsburg, was a real treasure in those days of general
defection. When the revolt broke out in Bohemia, and all
his relations were on the Protestant side, he distinguished
himself by his strongly marked imperialism; he helped with
his cuirassiers to decide the engagement against Count
Mansfeld at Teyn, and he covered Bouguoy's retreat with
great dexterity against the hosts of Bethlen Gabor.
Wallenstein had early rendered himself independent by
a rich marriage. He shunned no sacrifice to secure the
favour of the Hapsburgs at the time of their great difficulties, and he had the knack of keeping up an appearance
of great expenditure, while he was a good manager; he
never lost a favourable opportunity, and even when he gave
liberally was only casting the net for greater gain.
As nearly all the aristocracy were upon the rebel side in
the Bohemian revolution, his faithfulness was doubly valuable, and, when the great confiscation of property took
place, the time came for him to reap his harvest.
By the year I622, Ferdinand had confiscated no less than
642 lordships and estates of Bohemian noblemen; and, as
he was in great want of money/ the spoil was sold at ridi.




WALLENSTEIN.                   433
eulous prices. The market w-as flooded with estates; he
who had ready money to spend could q tickly acquire immense wealth.  WVallenstein was a millionaire, and spent
seven millions and one-third of florins in buying some of
these estates, mostly at absurd prices; and, in addition to
the sixty properties thus acquired, he received from the
Emperor, for the advances made in his service, the important territory of Friedland, with the little town of Reichenberg, for the price of I50,ooo florins.*
Besides having this good fortune, Wallenstein was an
unusually talented man, not so much as a general, as in his
great skill in organizing, exercising, disciplining, and providing for an army.
The military system of Europe was then in a transition
state from old forms to new, or rather the old forms had
disappeared and the new ones had not been discovered.
The last relics of feudal service had vanished, and the
modern system of a levy of the inhabitants for a standing
army had not become general; the armies were neither the
one thing nor the other; the men were neither bound to
their leaders as faithful vassals, nor bound together as belonging to the same nation. War was a trade which motives of
gain were the only inducement to engage in; a moral bond.
of common sentiments and higher duties was unknown. The
troops were hired from all countries. Wherever circumstances were unhappy or oppressive, thousands were ready
to seek their fortunes in war; whoever, for less honourable
reasons, was expelled from society, followed the drum, and
gained his livelihood under any colours he pleased. The
Bohemian exiles were found in thousands in all the armies
which fought against Austria. The Irish were as numerous in
those of their opponents; it was the same with the Walloons,
&c. The Germans were pretty equally distributed on both
sides.
It was- Wallenstein's forte to form an army out of such
elements; and, when every Dther bc id of union failed, to
make himself their centre.
In this respect no army was equal to his; no one succeeded as he did in casting the whole in one mould, in
inspiring the native soldiers with an esprit de corps, and in
making himself the centre of the hirelings, and of the army as
t whole. For the rest, he was one of those characters who
* F&lrster, Wallenstein als Feldherr und L/indesfiihst. 1834.
28




434 FIRST PHASE OF TIlE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
rise up in times like these-an upstart, who, from a modest
position, had become a magnate, with principalities under
him; yet he was coarse by nature, never knew any other motive than thirst for power. Even people who are on the conser.
vative side share the revolutionary characteristics of the age.
He had no more respect for tradition, usage, or legal
lights, than a successful soldier is likely to have; he had
seen so many of the great fall, he had taken so manyr successful steps over other people's heads, that he entertained the
idea that his own iron fist might attain for him what the
mere accidents of birth had cast into the laps of others.
He therefore thoroughly despised the ancient German
character, and had a profound contempt for the motives
which actuate little men.  He was a man like Napoleon's
marshals, and held the opinion that it was not too rash to
aspire to higher things than he possessed, and which in the
opinions of other mortals might possess.
He was disposed to follow the phantasies of an extravagant ambition, and to form all sorts of hazardous projects
beyond his means. He liked to play at hazard, to stake all
on one card, and to follow dark paths with a certain superstition. He was fond of reservations and equivocations;
called it lofty wisdom; and what others called cunning
only appeared to him  as, diplomatic skill.  No considerations, either religious, national, or personal, interfered
with his ambition.  He served the house of Hapsburg
because it was with them that his star had risen, but it
cost him nothing to engage in projects which had nothing
in common with the duties of a loyal imperialist.  He
fought for the Catholic cause, but without the fanaticism of
his master or Tilly's zeal for conversion. He was praised
for his toleration, but it arose from indifference.
This personage, with immense resources, princely wealth,
unusual political and military virtuosoship, aspiring amrnbi
tion, and a thorough contempt for tradition, appeared at
the Emperor's side, and almost eclipsed him.
The Emperor was oppressed with the idea that a foreign
army, that of the League, should obtain his victories and
re-conquer his territories.  Wallenstein created an army
for ltm which rendered him independent of Bavaria, and
was large enough to maintain itself and conquer whole
countries. He said that he would provide, not 20,000, but
5o,ooo men, and he knew that such a force would, like an




DEFEAT OF MANSFELD.                 435
emigrant nation, be able t) live from war itself and put any
enemy to flight.
THE WAR OF I626-8.
Wallenstein took the field openly, with the purpose of
carrying on the war on his own responsibility, and for his
own fame, and therefore of altogether ignoring, or, if possible,
of eclipsing the army of the League under Tilly, which, to
the great terror of the inhabitants, had been encamping for
months in Tower Saxony.
From  the autumn of 1625 Wallenstein encamped with
his hosts between Magdeburg, Halberstadt, and Dessau
well provided with money, provisions, and every necessary,
and for months worked at the erection of a secure Mtie dur
pont and gigantic fortifications; while Tilly, in already
exhausted districts, pressed by Christian IV., wandered
about in despair, his army near dissolution from sickness,
want, and desertion, and he looked in vain for help either
from home or from Wallenstein.
To Wallenstein belonged the fame of the first military
achievement of the year. In April, Ernest of Mansfeld
arrived at the Elbe with the most splendid army he had
ever commanded-20o,ooo men, with thirty pieces of heavy
artillery-and began to storm the t/le du pont at Dessau. A
fearful conflict lasted for several days; the imperial general,
Aldringen, held out with heroic perseverance, and enabled
Wallenstein, by a final attack with the cavalry in the rear,
to decide the engagement. On April 25th, i626, Mansfeld
was signally defeated, and pursued through Frankfort into
Silesia. It was his last campaign.  On his journey through
Bosnia he fell ill, and died as he had lived. W;ihen,le felt
death approaching he put on his best uniform, and awaited
the end standing upright, supported by two of his companions in arms.*
A few months after him died that other fierce general and
sharer of his views, Christian of' Brunswick.
These two losses almost decided the fate of the Danish
campaign. As long as tl ese two heroes were active, and
Tilly's army was scarcely in a situation to stand a united
attack, Christian IV. had hesitated; but now Tilly began
* A wam apology for Mansfeld has lately appeared: Ernest Grafzu
Mans'fldd, i 8o-xI66, vom Graten Uetterodt zu Scharfferberg. Gotha.
1867.




436 FIRSI PHASE OF THE THilxrY YEAlRS' WAR.
to revive, Miinden and Ghttingen were taken with horrible
slaughter. There were still favourable moments, in which,
had they been taken advantage of, much might have been
recovered; but Christian neglected them, and on 27th
August suffered a complete defeat at Lutter and Barenberg,
and was compelled to retreat to Holstein. The army of
the League was now master in Brunswick and Hanover.
Wallenstein and Tilly found no further opposition in North
Germany. All Silesia with its fortresses fell into the Duke's
hands, and the Emperor granted him the Duchy of Sagan and
the lordship of Priebus as hereditary possessions. Thence he
made preparations on a large scale for a campaign against
Christian of Denmark on his own territory; in Wallenstein's
Duchy of Friedland, forges, powder mills, and manufactories
of arms, were at work day and night for the equipment of
his army, and his own mint coined the ready money for the
payment of the troops.
When, in the autumn of I627, he advanced by rapid
marches towards the north, the two Dukes of Mecklenburg
at once submitted to him, all the fortresses were garrisoned
by Wallenstein, and, in conjunction with Tilly, he began
operations against Holstein and Schleswig.
His schemes now, as appears from his correspondence,
were gigantic to a fantastic degree.
At the end of the year he' took leave of absence for
three months.  His representative, Colonel Arnim, was
commissioned to occupy and fortify all the harbours of
Pornerania, to take all the ships he could, and to arm those
fit for it;'"for, you see, we shall now betake ourselves to
the sea."  He was to watch Sweden carefully, "for Gustavus Adolphus is a dangerous visitor, of whom one must
beware;" he was to burn his ships when it was possible;
meanwhile he was to negotiate with the Danish States, to
induce them to depose their Christian, and to elect the
Emperor Ferdinand king. If they consented, he promised
that all their privileges, even- the Reformation, should be
held sacred; but if not, they should become his vassals,
Meanwhile he was trying to induce the Emperor to secure
Mecklenburg to him, and seeking a pretext for suspending
an imperial ban over the dukes.
Now, however, the long-concealed rancour of the Duke
of Bavaria and his party broke out.  Wallenstein cared
nothing for priests; and instead of joining with Tilly in making




WALLENSTEIN'S PROJECTS.              437
North Germany Catholic, his sole concern was to found n
powerful principality for himself, which delayed the schemes
this party had in view. He had also let fall some ominous
expressions, from which it appeared that it was his intention, if possible, that all the German princes, with their
"German liberty," should share the fate of the Mecklenburgers. Let the palaces of the princes, he had said, be
pulled down; they would no longer be wanted; there wvas
but one king in France and Spain, and there should be bu,
one Emperor in Germany.  The Electors, in particular,
he must teach morals, and show them  that the Emperor
was not dependent on them, but they on the Emperor, &c
Such counsels did not prevail, though it was thought that
there were signs that the Emperor himself was of opinion
"that the power of the Electors must be somewhat restricted," for he felt the burden of a personal dependence
on the Elector Max, who still kept possession of Upper
Austria as a pledge.
Wallenstein obtained the promise of Mecklenburg, first
as a pledge and then as a principality, and-the Dukes were
declared to have forfeited their country. At the same time
the Emperor Ferdinand released himself from the guardianship of the League. In March, I628, the Elector Max
received the Upper Palatinate instead of Upper Austria.
and the Lower Palatinate on the right bank of the Rhine,
as indemnity for the expenses and sacrifices of the Bohemian war. Ferdinand was thus again in possession of
his inheritance; Max had deprived his own relation of his
country, and the war, which could only be put an end to
by bringing back the banished Count Palatine, seemed
likely to go on for ever.
In the spring, Wallenstein, "the Admiral of the North and
Baltic Seas," as he was now called, began to take possession
of the shores of the Baltic. He had cast his eyes especially
on two points-Riigen and Stralsund. The first was taken;
the second resisted, being assisted by Denmark and Sweden
with money, munitions, provisions, and troops. Wallenstein was determined to have the city," even if it were
attached by chains to heaven."  But it was all in vain: all
his attacks were repulsed, his proposals rejected; his troops
suffered enormous losses from the enenmy's fire, want, sick.
ness, and bad weather, and after a -six months' assault they
were obliged,'in August~, t68, to-beat-an ignominious retreat,




438 FIRST PHASE OF -HE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
Wallenstein's military successes, and his splendid dream
of dominion over the seas, were put an end to by the
ramparts of Stralsund, and the heroic endurance of its
Protestant population. He was now the first to counsel
peace; the ground burnt under his feet. Tired of a hope.
less contest with maritime powers, against which he was
defenceless, he was eager speedily to come to terms with
Denmark. The Treaty of Lubeck was entered into in
May, I629; both parties renounced compensation, and all
his cities and provinces were restored to the vanquished
King Christian, as if he had been the victor.
Meanwhile the party of the League had obtained a great
success.  They had extorted an edict from the Emperor,
to issue which he could only have been advised by his
bitterest enemy; this was the Edict of Restitution of 6th
March, 1629.
THE EDICT OF RESTITUTION, 1629, AND DISMISSAL OF
WALLENSTEIN, I630.
Among the conditions imposed by the Elector Max of
Bavaria, when he gave up the territory north of the Ens to
the Emperor, there were two secret ones-the banishment
of the Calvinists and the restitution of Catholic Church
property. After long delay and consultation with ecclesiastics and laymen, the Emperor decided to accede to these
demands. This was effected by the Edict of Restitution,
by which it was ordained that "all bishoprics, monasteries, and other Church property not held directly under
the Crown (mittelbar), confiscated since the Treaty of
Passau, shall be restored to the Catholics; all the bishoprics
held directly under the Crown (unmittelbar), which, contrary to the ecclesiastic reservation, had come into the
hands of the Protestants, shall again be occupied by
Catholic prelates. The Catholic States are empowered to
compel their subjects to adopt their religion, and in case of
refusal, they are to leave the country on receiving an adequate sum of money; further, the religious peace only concerned the Catholics and she adherents of the unaltered
Confession of Augsburg.  No other sects, Calvinists or
Zwinglians, were to be'tolerated in the empire."
This edict had, in part, strict legality on its side; but put
in practice it involved a great revolution, which would be




THE EDICT OF RESTI UTION.              439
absolute annihilation to the property and churches of the
Protestant States, and indeed to German Prot estantism
itself. The bishoprics not held directly under the Crown,
but under some local ruler, had been confiscated in great
numbers by Protestant and Catholic princes. In 1552-5,
when the Protestants were in the ascendancy, andi had
nothing to fear from the Emperor, the number of secularisations by Protestants had greatly increased; and when, in
1555, the question was discussed, no clause could be
carried which enjoined restitution.  The status quo was
quietly recognised; but this was now more than seventy
years ago, arid was all to be changed by a stroke of
the pen.
The ecclesiastical reservation proviso, if King Ferdinand's clause, so called, was still to be considered in force,
had certainly been infringed.
Several Protestant princes had taken advantage of the
occasion, and contrived that their sons or brothers should
be made bishops, and afterwards, on their conversion, had
changed the bishoprics into secular Protestant territories.
In now demanding that things should be restored as
they were before the infringement of the reservation, they
were formally right. But then they ought not in the next
article to have granted to the Catholic States the right of
converting or banishing their Protestant subjects, for that
was contrary to another proviso still in tforce, by which
religious liberty was expressly granted to the Protestant
subjects of ecclesiastical rulers.
If one was law, so was the other.
Then, after the religious peace, large territories belonged
to the adherents of ethn> Reformed faith: the Electoral Palatinate, Hesse Cassei, Zweibriicken, Cleve, Berg, and the
electoral line,if' (he house of Hohenzollern. These territories were deprive.1 of their legal existence by the last
article, and sacrificed to the unlimited power of the Catholic
reaction.
Besides, in standing upon formal legal rights, they were
taking a step, the consequences of which might be incalculable, and which could only be considered practicable by a
blind camarilla elate with victory. There could no longer
be any peace under such a system.
Even Saxony and Brandenburg, who were surprisingly
passive so Iong as religion only was in danger, became vey




440  FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARtS' WAR.
uneasy as soon as Church property was at stake; it drove
them into the enemy's camp. The bishoprics held directly
under the Crown, which were to be restored, formed together
a little kingdom. They were the archbishoprics of Magdeburg and Bremen, the bishoprics of Minden, Verden, Halberstadt, Liibeck, Ratzeburg, Meissen, Merseburg, Naum.
burg, Brandenburg, Havelberg, Lebus, Camin. The Resti.
tution also affected numberless abbeys.
If such an edict we-e enforced, it would be to challenge
the dynasties and people to a struggle for life and death.
But this was not taken into consideration, although there
was a nine years' war about trifles to look back upon.
The Protestants were often afterwards reproached with
having forgotten country, honour, and everything in their
hatred of the Hapsburgs, and with having served under
foreign colours, Danish, Swedish, and even French, and this
cannot be gainsaid, nor the fearful confusion which resulted
from it amongst our people.
But the guilt of the originators of this mischief must not
be forgotten. What could they do but accept any help that
wvas offered them, when hundreds of thousands of them
were deprived of their rights, religion, and property, and
driven from their country by a stroke of the pen? The
German Protestants were brought to the same point as the
Irish Catholics, who in blind revenge opposed everything
Protestant.
Thte result proved the impracticability of the edict. After
3ix years of bloodshed, the Emperor was compelled to grant
the abolition or it to Saxony and Brandenburg, and, after
thirteen years more of fearful warfare, to all the other
Protestants and Reformers; so that all that was effected
by a nine years' contest was that the edict was torn to
shreds.
And if the restoration of Church property had been
honestly intended-th-at is, if it meant the restoration of it
to its previous owne.rs-this was by no means what was
generally understood by it. If its confiscation was called
robbery, it could not be made good by fresh plunder.
Most of the bishoprics belonged to religious orders in
whose days the Jesuits did not exist, especially the numerous Benedictine abbeys. When these demanded the restitution of their property, it was already occupied by the
Jesuit




THE EDICT OF RESTITUTION.             4 }1
And it was just the same with the appointments to the
erchbishoprics and bishoprics.  Instead of allowing the
prelates to be elected as was prescribed by ancient reguiations, archdukes and magnates of the house of Austria
were always ready to take the places of. the old owners.
The Emperor's blunder was soon punished, and in a way
he did not anticipate.
The least that he expected to attain when he yielded to
the entreaties of the Jesuits and the League, was the satisfaction of their increasingly inconvenient demands.  But
in this he was mistaken.  WVhen he now requested the
League to withdraw or dismiss its armies for the relief
of Franconia and Swabia, the Elector Max summoned a
meeting of the League at Heidelberg; and, after dismissing a few troops in its name for the sake of appearance,
demanded that the Emperor himself should disarm —that is,
dismiss Wallenstein and dissolve his army, or at least summon a meeting of Electors to establish a speedy and secure
peace.
The Edict of Restitution had induced the tamest members
of the Protestant aristocracy to take up arms against the
Emperor; all that was now wanting was to deprive him of the
man who had set him  upon his legs, to.hurl him from
the giddy heights to which he had climbed. And this was
now to be accomplished.
There were numerous complaints against Wallenstein.
1His whole military system, his plan of making the countries
in which his armies were encamped provide for them, was
a fearful one. When they came into a district, not only
the interest of capital, but capital itself was devoured.
If his troops did not behave worse than others, the horrors
occasioned by the dissolute bands of fierce soldiers were
bad enough. The fire and destruction, the outrages upon
women, the relentless cruelty towards every living thing,
were not more horrible among his soldiers than among others,
but generals looked with envy upon a camp which never
lacked necessaries, because a regular system of plunder and
torture prevailed, while they who would have been ready
enough to follow his example could never succeed in providing comforta ly for the soldier.
The rulers had great reason to complain of him. He
aad offended themn all by his scornful tone; some of them
he bad driven from  their countries, had made hims.e




t42 FIRST PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
their ruler, and openly pursued a policy intended to exter.
rninate all ruling princes, and to set up an aristocracy of
successful soldiers under an imperial military dictatorship.?
All classes were agreed in their hatred of Wallenstein; the
priests could not forgive him because he cared nothing for
their conversions, and he sometimes exclaimed, "The devil
and hell-fire take the priests." There was scarcely one of
the Protestant party whose country he had not ruined, who
had not had to famish while his head-quarters were rolling
in luxury, and the League desired to avenge his treatment
of Tilly, his open intention of thrusting it on one side,
and, if possible, of utterly destroying it.
Thus a great storm was gathering around the " Dictator
of Germany," as Max of Bavaria called the Duke of Friedland.
In June, 1630, the meeting of princes took place at
Ratisbon-there were no Diets until  64o0-and a long
accusation was laid before it against Wallenstein, who was
the cause of " all the trouble, disgrace, and scandal, of all the
horrible and unheard-of military oppression." It demanded
the dismissal of the imperial infantry and its leader. Among
the most zealous of this party were the French embassy, who
were present in consequence of an. Italian business.
While the Emperor was considering whether he would
enter into a contest with the ruling aristocracy and their
allis, France, England, Sweden, Denmark, and Holland,
or give up his only support, Wallenstein had coolly taken
measures for giving the law upon the battle-field in the first
case.
He had divided his men, between 5o,ooo and 6o,ooo, into
two parts, and caused them to occupy highly suspicious
posts in Alsace and Swabia, in order that at a given sign
one division might attack Bavaria, the other France.
But it was not to come to this. Ferdinand, as the patron
of a man like Wallenstein, did not venture on an enterprise
which he might perhaps have undertaken as the commander
of his own army. He granted his dismissal, and Wallenstein submitted without question.
It was a most critical decision. Just when the Edict oi
Restitution had ignited a fearful conflagration, when Guts
* For his plans with Tilly and Pappenhelm, see Gfr6rer's Gustal
Adolf.




WALLENSTEIN'S DISMISSAL.               443
tavus Adolphus had already landed in Germany, the Emperor
allowed himself to be compelled by his States to dismiss
his general.; and in this case it meant much more than the
ordinary dismissal of a general-it deprived all his military
force of their head. The army was the creation of Wallenstein. No longer kept together and paid by him, it would
be dispersed, and this was abundantly proved.iri the succeeding period; in this case the Emperor would, as before,
be dependent on the League, when he had been obliged to
pledge his heritage to the Electorn
Seldom  have great historical  events followed in such
close connection as in this case, Duming the same days of
June when the Emperor was guilty of the imprudence of
sacrificing Wallenstein to the Leafu'e Gustavus Adolphus
landed on the shores of the Baltic, in order to summon the
threatened Protestant elements under his banner.
Khevenhiller attributes these events to an intrigue of
Richelieu, who, in order to bring to nought the growing
power of the Hapsburgs, zealously advocated two measures
-an edict for the restitution of all church property confscated after the Treaty of Passaun, and the dismissal of Wallenr
stein. The one was fatally to estrange from Ferdinand all the
Protestant states, and thereby to cause perpetual schism in
the empire; the other, to deprive him of his most powerful
weapon, and to render hima defenceless against both foreign
and domestic foes.
One thing is certain, that these results did take place,
and the warning of the Elector of Sa4ony in i629, that.the
Edict bf Restitution would please no one but adverse
foreign powers, was strikingly fulfilled




PART IX.
SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR —
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.
CHAPTER XXXiV.
SWEDEN AND GUSTAVUS' ADOLPHUS.*
$weden before Gustavus Adolphus.-Erich XIV., r50o-68.-John M.,
I568-92, and Charles of Siidermanland.-Charles as Regent,
I592-I604. —Charles IX. as King, x64-I Io.-Gustavus Adolphus
in Sweden, t6z -30o —Position of Affairs at the beginning of his
Reign.-Political, Military, and Domestic Reforms. —Wars with
Denmark, Russia, and Poland.-The Contest for the Baltic.
SWEDEN BEFORE GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, I56o0-61I.
(USTAVUS  VASA  had risen from  being a rebel and
J   conspirator to be regent and king, and with wonderful ability had succeeded in two things-in founding a hereditary monarchy, and in providing the means for itsstability
by taking possession of the mediaeval churc  property and
incorporating it with the crown lands.
The poorest of countries became by these means one of
the most wealthy; its trade, navigation, harbours, army,
and fleet began to prosper; and the Swedes are right in regarding Gustavus Vasa as the founder of their greatnes,s
* Besides the literature mentioned in Chap. xii.: Pufendorf, De rebus
suec. x686. Geijer, Geschichte Schwedens. III. Bd. Gfr6rer, GustAv
Adolf. x845. Helbig, Gustav Adolf und der Kurffist v. Sachsen,
x854. 2 aufl, Bensen, Das Verh'ingniss Magdeburgs. Also Droysen's
Aufsaitze: x. Ueber Magdeburgs Zelst6rung. I631.  2. Die Schlacht
von Lfitzen in Forschungen zur Deutschen  eschichte III. and V.,
and 0. v. Gouericke, Beageeung Magdeburgs,  6o.




SWEDEN BEFORE GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUTS.  445
though in his lifetime he never had the satisfaction of living
on peaceful and happy terms with his people.
He left four sons, Eric, John, Magnus, and Charles-ihe
last a child, the others youths-and so deeply rooted were
the ancient Germanic views of inheritance in the mind of
this mighty ruler, that, though he had spent a long life in
the arduous task of founding a sole monarchy, at the close
of his life he proceeded to the division of his work.
The eldest son, Eric, for whom he expressly intended the
crown, did not appear to him adapted for the arduous task
of governing; he therefore ordained that his brothers should
assist him, and conferred power on them which, while it
would not make themi independent, would, he thought,
impose a wholesome restraint on the power of their
brother.
The result was as unsuccessful as possible. Gustavus
Adolphus afterwards said, "My grandfather made a mistake: the King's brothers were too great for subjects —they
were sure to strive to be masters."
A melancholy reign of eight years now began.
Eric XIV., though he possessed mind, talent, and acquirement, had something of that wild and stormy passion, breaking out into unaccountable actions, which was peculiar to
some branches of this family, and which in some cases- resulted in insanity; not only Eric, but Magnus. also, died
insane, and personages like Gustavus-IV. and Charles XII.
show how long such traits may remain in a family.
This did not at first appear plainly in Eric, but it was
indicated by an impulsive feverish activity. Scarcely any
other monarch wrote and administered so much as he did.
But his hasty, ill-considered acts appear like those of a
morbidly excitable man, who throws himself into business
to escape from his own humours.
Then a tendency appeared to a dangerous sort of extravagance, and after a few years of wretched government all
the mischievous traits of his character gradually unfolded
themselves. He surrounded himself with all sorts of unscrupulous persons, who assisted him  in his passionate
deeds.
Next, he took one and another for a conspirator; his
suspicions especially rested upon his brother John, who was
an agreeable, popular man; he imprisoned him, treated him
like a criminal, but suddenly drew back from proceeding to




446 SECOND PEHSE OF THE THIRTY7 YEkRS' WA.
extremrtieS,  Fear of conspiracy tormented him  like an
evil cons;eriece, and thare  were only- too many people
ready to ma;' sport of this unhappy tendency. His favourite,
Pehrson, made quite  a tade of it, and the King so far forgot
himself as to commit riectless crimes.
ie stabbed one of- the Stures ii p.ison, and had his
distinguished fellow-prisoners slaughtered.  Then anguish
of mind drove hima into the open air he wandered through
the fields and woouds in the garb of a peasant, knocked
down his old tutor who ac.osted him, and then did penance
by giving up his favourite to justice.
In a country whichl had only lately seen the establishment of royal authority, such a government could not be
tolerated.  Ia   567 a'ferrment began to take place; a con.
spiracy, which had been haunting men's minds, was actually
formed; the brothers, backed by the nobles, raised a
revolt; the burgher class, too, were weary of the King's
mad acts.
In Septemb er, x68, Erqc was seized, and for nine years
was dragged from  prison to prison-the best method, of
course, f. producing complete insanity; still, he was never
looked upon as harmless.  This murder by the State, of a
man who was clearly hot responsible,, is unexampled in,
history. Seven years' after his dethronement, the bishops
and rinisters declared trhat if the King did Pot cease to
threaten the GoVernment, and to furnish a pretext for revolt
and disturbances, it wo'uld be the duty of his keepers
to put him out of the ^way. In February, 577, he died
under circumstances which leftlno doubt that this hint was
taken.
John then began to reign, together. with hisbrother, Duke
Chiarles of Siidermanland.
Joln was, on the whole, lenient and well-Inmeanig, butl
had very superficial views of- his position and vocation.
Ciarles, on the contraiy, was cold, firm, severe, and reserved; quite destitute of the winning chlaracteristics of his
father, which were, to a-certain extent, inherited by Johnl;
though in mind and and polial principles Charles most resemnbled him. As a youtha of eighteen he came forward to help
to detlrone his. brother,  id his whole character was
stamped Mith detearmined ambition.
In  688 this singular joint reign began, of two rulen
who were  constantly opposed t each.:other-  and through




SWEDEN BlFOlRE GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. 447
their contradictions the inheritance of Gustavus Vasa seemed
likely to be ruined.
By this division of the empire the most essential condition of a strong monarchical power was impaired; it only
remained for the regulation of ecclesiastical affairs, with
which Gustavus Vasa had taken so much pai'ns, to be called
in question, and this was done by King John.
He was but little acquainted with this question, so vital
for the young Swedish kingdom, and vacillated between
Catholic and Protestant opinions. He had, however, read
a good deal on the subject superficially, and conceived an
ambition similar to that of Henry V'II-I. He had a project
for combining the two parties, then a- particularly difficult
task.
He felt the hierarchical system of the Catholic Church, and
the majesty of her worship, to be imposing, and those about
him favoured these sentiments. He'had early married,
against the will of his brother Eric, a Polish princess, who
was a strict Catholic, had great influence over him, and
did all she could to bring him over to her faith. Jesuits in
disguise, who appeared to be good Lutherans, were daily
about him, and at Rome his speedy conversion was confidently looked for.  We have the instructions which were
sent to the Jesuits to advance the work; they were always to
talk of faith, not of works, and to show that the Catholic
Church really enjoined nothing different from the Protestant.
But Protestantism in Sweden was not merely a matter of
opinion, which might be adjusted one way or the other
according to individual needs; it was a political fact of the
greatest significance.  The empire itself was based upon
it; and, even if the King was sincere in his schemes of mediation, he could not but get into a false position in being cool
to a party with which the existence of the country was bound
up; and in coquetting with the other, which had no adherents in the country except his wife.
He made all sorts of futile efforts to effect a reconciliation which did not satisfy either party.  He had
Catholic changes introduced into public worship; and in
1576 a new Liturgy appeared, which was based upon the.
new Mass book.of the Council of Trent. Great opposition
was made to this "Red book," as it was called by the
people. IHe had hoped by its means to effect a reconciliation between the chmaches, but all the Swedish clergy




448 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIR TY YEARS' WAR.
declared against it, and yet it did not go half far enough to
please the strict Catholics.
This retrograde tendency appeared more and more openly,
and it made the King's position in the country all the
more difficult. The people said, " The_ King is secretly a
Jesuit, and wants to make us all Catholics  " and the growing boldness of the Jesuit preachers, the abolition of the
Lutheran Catechism, and -the ostentation with which the
Queen adhered to their faith, seemed to confirm the sus
picion.
When the Queen died, in x583, the Protestant bishop,
with a courage which would do honour to any Court'
theologian of to-day, showed so little tact as to laud hex.
as a staunch Catholic.  Though the King now suddenly
turned round, and expelled the Jesuits fro n  the country,
yet he obstinately held fast to the " Red book."
In another important point John was untrue to the trdditions of his father.  In the struggle with the Church,
Gustavus Vasa had not been able to dispense with the
aid of the secular nobles, and had therefore been obliged
to give them a share of the spoil of the Church property.
But it was to be a final concession, and no further interference from  them  with the rights- of the Crown or the
country were to be tolerated.  But on this point John's
conduct was at least ambiguous. He favoured the privileges
of the nobles, allowed themr to divert public justice to the
advantage of their class, lightened their obligations to the
Crown, and the service of their vassals, thereby increasing the
burdens of the burgher class and free peasants, who dreaded a
new government by the aristocracy; and, though this made
the sentiments of all more in favour of a monarchy, it
none the-less estranged them from the monarch himself.
From these two mistakes in the internal administration
arose a still more serious complication in  the foreign
policy.
King John, who had once been himself attracted by the
worthless crown of Poland, conceived the idea, after it had
escaped his hands, of making his son, Sigismund, King of
Poland-that is, of transplanting him into a country where
Catholicism and government by the nobles prevailed unhindered, and where the state of things was quite different
from that of Sweden.
The republic of Poland was already -on the road to ruin;




SWEDEN BEFORE -GU;STAVJS ADOLPHUS,   449
the crovn was not worth bhai'ng. The first principles of_ a
real political administration would have to be settled; the
arbitrariness of the nobles and disruption of parties was
beyond all bounds, and a foreign king would be betrayed
and'sold.
It was inconceivable that a man In his senses should
entertain the idea of combining wvrith the difficult position
in Sweden the still more difficult one in Poland. The result
would certainly be that the Swedish crown would be lost,
and the Polish one not gained.
Poland was then a decidedly Catholic-State — at any rate
its ruling elements were Catholic; the King must, therefore, be so too; and so the heir of a thoroughly Protestant
country, who could scarcely tolerate the lukewarm  Protestantism  of its king, took, in r5857, the ominous step
of going over to Catholicism in order to be King of Poland.
There was one man who knew how to take -advantage
of these embarrassments which the King created for himself; but it was also for the advantage of Sweden and the
work of Gustavus Vasa; this was Charles of Siidertmanland,
the youngest son of Gustavus, a cool, clever, moderate
statesman, who opposed every one of his brother's mistakes,
John introduced the I'Red book:" Charles forbade its use.
John tried to unite the two churches- Charles adhered
strictly to Lutheranism, and granted hospitality to all victims
of persecution. John favoured the nobles-: Charles checked
them.  In short, Charles was the decided and persevering
representative of the traditions of Gustavus Vasa, which
were ignored by John-; and was, therefore, the spokesman
of all those who were displeased with John's behaviour,
especially of the peasant and burgher class-of all the
patriots to'whose hearts modem  Sweden was dear, and
whose existence or non-existence was ian fact at stake.
When Sigismund was made King of Poland, or rather
protector of the Polish aristocracy and their so-called constitution, the Swedish nobles held up their heads. It was
well known what would be granted by the Polish King to
those who elected him,-and they tried to obtain the same in
Sweden.  Just as the King of Poland was about to embark,
a plan was handed to him, the object of which was nothing
less than the establishment of a Polish-Swedish constitution,
which simply set aside the monarchy of Gustavus Vasa
They intended to gain over King John by accepting his
29




450 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
favourite Liturgy; and to secure the joint government of the
nobles, they proposed the establishment of a Parliament in
which seven of the chief of them should take it in turn, for
from two to five years, partly to exercise some of the most
important prerogatives of the Crown, partly to guard them.
John and Sigismund were weak enough to approve the
scheme. It was justly characterized by Gustavus Adolphus
when he said that "they wanted to stab King John and
Duke Charles with one spear, and thus to get rid of them
both."
yomn left behind him, in x592, a distracted kingdom.
His son was away; the people and the nobles split up into
factions; everything insecure.
In this time of perplexity, Charles's activity began; ambition persuaded him that his path to the throne was open,
and that he alone was walking in the steps of his father.
He thrust aside the clamorous nobles, with their proposed
Senate. Parliamen might advise according to Swedish law,
but the duty of ruling belonged to the sovereign, and in his
absence it became his own duty to fill the post. When the
King was for a short time in the country, he made him take
an oath to protect its religion and laws, and, in accordance
with the wishes of the States, the laws against the Catholics
were made more stringent. From  1592-I604, one difficulty follows closely on another. The King could not carry
on the government of two countries; he was compelled
to appoint a regent, but his resolute and ambitious uncle
was made governor of the land, not the Senate of seven
nobles.
With the aid of the peasantry, he systematically opposed
the nobles; and with the aid of Protestantism, the King and
Court. At a solemn assembly of the Diet, at Upsala,;February, 1593, attended by a great number of ecclesiastics,
the irrevocable determination of the people was expressed
to abide by pure Lutheran teaching, and everything was
abolished which had tended to question the supremacy of
the Reformation during the reign of King John. Angermann, the vehement opponent of the "' Red book," was
made archbishop; all Catholic innovations were abolished,
and the Lutheran Catechism reinstated.
This was clearly a manifesto against the Catholic Sigistllnd, but a still plainer one was to be issued.,' The  King
in -Poland did all he could to embarrass hi, uncle, and a




SWEDEN BEFORE GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.  45 1
party of defiant noblemen who lusted for Polish'freedom
held to him, while Duke Charles openly joined the great
party of his father, that of the burghers and peasants.-.In
the Senate he addressed them, not the nobles; and with
their countenance he upset the obnoxious project.
All the instigations of the Catholic camarilla and of the
ambitious nobles were met by the Swedish peasants -with
the simple answer, One was master in the country, and he
was ruling in the spirit of Gustavus Vasa! Once imore the
courageous Dalecarlians were the chief support' of the
monarchy. It came at last to a sanguinary collision.
The battle of Stiingebro, September, 1598, went entirely
against Sigismund, and his flight left his followers to' the
Regent's revenge. The Diet of I604 conferred ori'him the
crown of Sweden. Charles IX. reigned after this for seven.
stormy years.
Since I56o, Sweden had had no real king who could
keep down faction and foster the interests of the country.
All that had been accomplished by Gustavus Vasa —-the
establishment of regal power, careful -administration of the
laws, and a military force-had had a severe shock; even the
religious revolution had been endangered. Charles had all
this to restore, while he was kept in suspense by three wars.
The perpetual difficulties with Sigismund took him to
Livonia, where he was compelled to break off the contest, in
which he was at first successful, by attacks from Russia and
Denmark. He was a broken-down old man, who had'
almost lost the power of speech, when Christian IV. invaded the country with a great force; and when Charles
died, in October, I 6 x, not one of the recent difficulties was
adjusted.
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS IN SWEDEN, 16r1-30.
He was succeeded by his son Gustavus Adolphus, who
was called upon in his seventeenth year to undertake a
most difficult task. It was not his lot to be greeted by the
unanimous acclamations of a happy and contented people;
he was the heir of -irreconcilable hatred and numerous complications. His father had had many enemies, and had
increased their number by his conflicts with Sigismund and
the aristocracy; all the Catholic party hated him and his
house; the resources of the country were low; his right to




452 SECOND PEHASE OF THE THIRTY IEMARS' WAR.
the thronie disputed; the kingdom involved in wars with
Poland, Russia, and  Denmark. Yet, in the course of
twenty years, Gustavus Adolphus had triumphed over all
his foes, and established a sovereign power which was in
a position to take a decisive part in the great contest of the
age, and which it required much misfortune and stupidity
to overthrow.
He was born on the zxth of December, 1594, in the
midst of his father's struggle for the crown, and he took
pains to accustom his son to these rough and stormy times.
When he was eleven years old, he took him with him to
the sittings of the Senate, and allowed him to attend and
even speak at his audiences. An interest in military life
was early awakened in him. There was ample opportunity
to cultivate this taste at his father's Court, which was visited
by officers from almost all the European Courts, and the
campaigns in which he took part completed the course of
instruction. At the same time, his father took care that his
successor should receive a carefiul mental training and
learned education, such as, in the variety of subjects it
embraced, no other northern monarch had yet enjoyed.
While still quite young, he spoke Latin, German, Dutch,
French, and Italian fluently, amused himself with Xenophon, and diligently studied Hugo Grotius. With all this
early familiarity with politics, war, and learning, physical
training was not neglected
In short, the old king* might regard his successor with
pride; he was leaving behind him a second Gustavus Vasa.
The young king's first task was to heal the disorders of
fifty years, which existed in every department of the State.
The most difficult task was the restoration of healthy
relations with the nobles.  His father had sent many a
seditious nobleman to the scaffold, which had sown the
seeds of fearful hatred, and was not the path to successful
reorganization.
Gustavus Adolphus took  the kingdom  uion himself
"with two empty hands," as it was said in his funeral
sermon. With three wars on hand, he had neither money
nor trustworthy troops.. Both had to be raised, and it could
only be done by a reorganization of his relations with the
~ From the admonitions, wiitten and spoken, which he addressed to
his son, it appears what a high-mninded spirit this rough, harsh ruler
possess




GUSTAVUS ADOLP!tUS IN SWEDEN:    4t53
nobles.  With their large landed property, tleir vassals,
and legal and administrative privileges, they were practically exempt from taxation, and, though thoroughly warlike,
they were entirely unaccustomed to military service as
followers of the King. It was necessary that this state of
things should cease, and that it should be accomplished,
not by violence, but by agreement and treaty, if the
citizens and peasants were not to -succumb to the burden of
taxation, and the State itself to be divided up into a number
of aristocratic courts under " provincial kings."
The war with.Denmark, whick came to an end'in 0613,
was so unsuccessful mainly because. the nobles furnished
the King neither with men rior mQney.  The King reminded them, in an address which he made to them clad in
axrmour, that they7 only received their privileges in return for
" equestrian service," and that he, who, instead of doing his
duty in the field, had preferred to stay by the stuff,. had,
according to Swedish law, forfeited his privileges.
After variou's negotiations, often interrupted, he at length
succeeded in establishing permanent, well-regulated rela.
ti0ns, which both parties found. to be to their advantage.
The King, in the main, permitted the nobles to retain
their traditional privileges, and even granted them a new
one, by the establishment of an Upper House; but he was
it earnest in. compelling them'to join the army, and effected
that they should not be behind the other classes in money
contributions.
The Swedish nobles had always been a warlike race;
every nobleman was a soldier, and the greatest lords always
came to attend the meetings of Parliament with hundreds
of horses. But the sovereign.had hitherto only experie:nced
the dark side of this feature of Swedish chivalry-defiant
demands, and -unpatriotic self-sufficiency. Under Gustavus
Adolphus all this was cha.nged withifn certain limits. The
nobles found themselves. an acknowledged power, and on
good terms with the Cro.Wn;, their warlike ambition was no
longer in contradiction to their'class feelings and privileges;
they soon considered it an honour to serve this chivalrous
King, as leader of the nations forces; and the King, as the
representative of the army as well as of the people, appeared even in the Senate in armour. In i627 the relations
between them  had become so cordial that the. nobles,
who already took.a share of most of the taxes, took upon




454 SECOND PIIASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
themselves to furnish recruits for the general levy from th6e
estates.
This was the result of the prudent and personally winning
manner in which Gustavus Adolphus went to work. It had
never been thus in Sweden before, and has never been so
since. All his successors have split upon this rock.
With these weapons Gustavus Adolphus fought his way
through two great wars, by the end of which Sweden was
the first great power in the. north, and was competent to
take her place as- arbiter in Europe.
While these things were being slowly matured, Gustavus
had undertaken energetic creative reforms in other spheres.
The administration and the whole legal system had undergone a thorough revolution; the former was committed to
carefully chosen officials, under proper control; for the
latter, new rules and new municipal laws were introduced,
as a completion of the common law of'Charles IX. Two
courts of appeal were also established against the sentences
of the district courts and the patrimonial judges. In legal
matters the sentiments of Gustavus Adolphus were those of
a really great ruler,'In a dispute which was tried between
him and a nobleman, he said to the judges, " Forget that I
am King; but do not forget that you are the highest judges
in the land, and let your consciences pass sentence." And
as they decided against him, he asked for the documents,
convinced himself that he had been in the wrong, and commended the judges for their conscientiousness. In a protocol of the Supreme Court of 5th November, i6i'8, are the
words: "His Majesty admonishes the royal courts of
justice not to take the side of any party. If any one of
the judges should tutr aside the law in favour of the King
or of any one else, let him know that it is his Majesty's intention to have him scalped, his head nailed to, the seat
of judgment, and his ears to the pillory."
The administration of public justice also underwent a
change little in accordance with modern liberalism, but all
the more in unison with the strictly military monarchy of
the Sweden of that day.
By a new regulation of the Diet, which was accepted by
the States assembled at Oerobr5 in January, i6xI7, the right
of initiative was conferred exclusively on the Crown. The
Crown only could bring forward motions, and no other
subjects were discussed. Each estate deliberated by itself,




GUSTAVUS ADOIPHUS -IN' SWDEN.    455
and the King pronounced the- decision.  The Diet was
no longer the scene of the intrigues which had occasioned
so many difficulties to Charles IX.; its power had, in fact,
vanished, and this, as well as the new legal system, formed a
counterpoise to the privileges of the nobles.
Together with this organization, untiring efforts were
made to advance the prosperity of the oppressed people.
Ruined cities, such as Gothenburg, were rebuilt; sixteen'
new ones founded, and their prosperity secured by good
constitutions and mercantile privileges; navigation, commerce, and the export of the products of the countrytimber, copper, iron, pitch, and ta'r —were encouraged;
restrictions imposed on the introduction of foreign manufactures; Swedish products were introduced into the great
markets by means of commercial treaties; so that in i6xSweden maintained active intercourse with Holland, and
after i624 Swedish merchants conveyed pitch, iron, planks,
and rye in their own ships as far as Spain. Skilful foreigners
were attracted to the country; one of these found means to
raise the mines of Sweden to a high state of prosperity; and
the King established a manufactory of arms and military
requisites on a large scale. All this brouight the fact to
light that a people who had hitherto been supposed to be
exclusively adapted for war, agriculture, and fishing, under
judicious guidance could develope a capacity for industrial
pursuits of every kind.
The dark background of this active creative life is formed
by the three sanguinary wars which Gustavus Adolphus
inherited from his father, in which he, his state, and army,
had to stand a fiery ordeal.
These wars, as well as the war in Germany, were especially aimed at the acquisition of dominion over the Baltic;
it was Gustavus Adolphus who projected this as a leading
idea of Swedish policy, and he pursued it with remarkable
success.
When he entered upon this project all the south of Sweden
was still in the hands of the Danes, together-with the keys
of the Baltic and the North Sea, Calmar and Elfsborg.
Sweden was quite shut out from the sea. In this situation
every attack of the Danes threatened the existence of the
whole country, and this explains the obstinate war into
which the young King was compelled to enter at the very
beginning of his reign, in which neither party was victo



456 SECOND X)t-LASE O.F TY-i. TH-A11t - A.S' W[rT ~
rious, though it caused. unspeakable desolation iu Sweden.
By the Treaty of Kunard, January, r6x3, both pardtes had
to give up what they had taken from the other. Sweden
received, under the form of a purchase,. for one million
dollars the  highly important points of Calmanr OGiand,
Etfsborg, and the surrounding country. This was the first
step towards the creation of the Swedish naval power.
The war with Russia was more successful.
With the revolt of Michael Romanow, in  61x3, Russ'a
began to'free herself from the troubles occasioned'by pretenders to the throne, foreign interference, and the immigr-.
tion of foreign nations. Still it was but the beginning of
a normal political life; no power existed sufficient to
oppose Gustavus Adolphus. The Swedes were everywhere
victorious, and peace was bought at a very high price.
By the Treaty of Stolbowa, February, r6x 7, Sweden received
Carelia, Ingerimanand, and Livonia; that is, Russia lost
the Baltic.
This was an immense success. With just pride Gustavus
Adolphus could say to -his Parliament, in the spring of
6i7, "'Not the least of the benefits which God has
granted Sweden is that PBussi must for ever give up Me
robbers' den from which she has, so often molested us.
She is a dangerous neighbour; her frontiers extend along
the North and the  Caspian Sea and aproach the Black
Sea; she has   ptowerful aristocrac~y,, superfluity of peasants, populous c-ties, and can send large zarmies into the
field. But she cannot send any vessel into the Baltic Sem
without our leave. We are separated from her by the great
Lakes of Ladoga and Peipus, thirty -miles of -marsh and
t:rong fortresses. Russi-a is shut out from the Baltic, and I
hope'to God,at the Mfuscovite wvill henceforth find it
difficult to leap over this brook."
Sweden then possessed ali those points to which. the
Russian Empire afterwards extended itself,; the main part
of the territory which Peter the Great acquired for Russia,
for -ever.  Sweden made good her claims'upon Livonia,
seized parts of Courland and Esthonia, conquered one
Polish and Prussian harbour after another, and finally
received, at the Peace of Westphalia, the mouths of the
Oder, the Weser, and the Elbe, Pomerania, Bremen, and
Verden-in short, 61 the whole bastion of the Crown of
Sweden," as A el Oxenstierna expressed it. It was an imu




GtTSTAVUS ADOLPHUS IT SSWEDEN.    457
mense district on the Baltic coasts, in the power of a State
hitherto the poorest- of all in coast territory.
The third and last War with Poland lasted till I629. The
enmity between Poland and Sweden was vastly increased by
the contest about the right to the throne of the two lines of
Vasa. In -Poland the King of Sweden was called a
usurper. Sigismund's Catholic followers joined cause with
all the foes of Gustavus Adolphus, and the Polish coast of
the Baltic was quite enough to become an apple of discord.
The last war was also the most successful for Sweden.
By the truce which ended it in x629, Sweden received
Elbing, Braunsberg, Pillau, Memel, and her claims were
recognised to the Baltic territory.
During this warlike period of eighteen years, not only
had a vast -empire been conquered, a school of generals
and warriors had been trained such as had not been seen
in Europe since the decline of the Spanish school. Yet,
singularly enough, when the news came to Vienna of the
landing of Gustavus Adolphus, they looked in the State
Almanack to see where the country of the little Gothic king
was situated.




CHAPTER XXXV.
OUSTAVUS ADOLPHUTS -IN oGERMANY, 1630-32.
Origin and Significanceof the Swedish War.-Motives, Pol tical and
Religious, of Gusttvuks.Adolohus.-Characteristics of him and his
Army.-Their Landing and' First Successes, June-December,
I63o.-Gustavus Ado]phus in Pomerania,-Siege of Stettin;
Treaty with Duke Bogeslav.-Tedious Advance into Pomerania. —
Imperial troops driveji out of Pomerania, December, I630.Treaty of Birwalde, January, I63I.-Convention of Leip4ig, and
Fall of Magdeburg, May, 163I.-Electoral Brandenburg and
Electoral Hesse join Gustavus Adolphus, June? —August.-Battle
of Breitenfeld, September 7, 1631.-Victorious March of Gustavus
Adolphus towards South and West Germany, October-December,
0631.-Plans for Restoration.-Overthrow  of the Power of the
League.-Return of Wallenstein, April, x632.-Battle of Liitzen,
16thi November, x632.-Death of Gustavus Adolphus and its.
Significance,
ORIGIN AND SIGNIFICANCE OF THE WAR.
THE invasion of Germany by Gustavus Adolphus was a
result of the protection he had afforded to Stralsund
against Wallenstein, and this protection was a result of his
relations with the Baltic and with the Reformation. He could
never hope to rule the Baltic so long as Mecklenburg and
Pomerania were in the hands of the imperial party, and the
opposition Polish king had a support in the Hapsburgs- indeed his own kingdom iwould be endangered if the Catholic
Restoration were not energetically opposed.
The same controversy about which the world-wide war
in Germany had broken out, was raging in Sweden.; it was
only the iron grasp of Charles IX. which had kept the
monarchy of Gustavus Vasa above water; and the country
on the other side of the Baltic was the seat of, perpetual
intrigues to undo his work. If this were allowed to go on,




CHARACTER OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.  459
a time would come when his own kingdom  would be in
the same danger as the little states of North Germany.
And this was no idle dream. Since Wallenstein's successes, the wings of the reaction had almost overshadowed
the Scandinavian States.
The Emperor Ferdinand and his brother-in-law, Sigisraund, had been eagerly discussing how Sweden could be
made Catholic; at what point the attempt at conversion
which' King'John-had been'compelled to give up, had best
be taken up again; and they had great hopes of attaining
their end. The truce which had cost.Poland so many losses
on the Baltic, tasted purposely until Sigismund, with the
aid of the Emperor, had recruited his strength, and for years
the latter had openly taken part in PolandA gainst Gustavus
Adolphus.
There were also pressing Swedish interests which impelled
Gustavus to join in the contest, and to overlook these would
be to misunderstand the position of affairs. But these were
not his only points of view.
In one respect Gustavus Adolphus was a unique personage in this century  he was animated by the fresh, unbroken
youthful spirit of the early days of the Reformation, like
that which characterized such men as Frederic of Saxony
a-d Philip of Hesse. If it can be said of any ruler in the
first half of the seventeenth century, that he was filled with
Protestant zeal and sincere enthusiasm for the greatness!of
his cause, it may be said of him, and of him alone. To a.
world full of mean artifices, miserable intrigues, and narrowrminded men, he exhibited once more' the qualities an'd
characteristics of a true hero.
This explains why he called forth enthusiasm where it had
been for many decades unknown-why he succeeded iii
kindling men's minds for ideas which had been engulfed ixn
the miseries of the times. Sacred things were no idle sport,
wJYith him. Because he was himself in earnest with his-l
prayers and religion, the divine worship whichl was:held, the.
spritual songs and psalms that were sung in his camp, had
power to restrain the terrible brute strength of his army 
but it was he alone who succeeded in it, not one — of his'
successors could do so.
His mind was also large enough in a fearfully demoralised
age to go back to the origin of the peaceful relations which
had existed between the adherents of the different creeds




460 SECOND PHASE OF THE E THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
for more than half a century. Ile alone proclaimed tlhe
principle that the object was not mutual destruction, but the
restoration of the law as it existed before the war; he alone
restored their rights to the Protestants without encroaching
on those of the Catholics. This was something in a contest in which both parties had become so fearfully embittered.
He could justly say to the princes and nobles at Nuremberg, " For shame, that I, the. foreigner, must teach you
your natural duty!"
-It was this that gave importance to the following war.
During the whole period Gustavus was the only person to
whom men could look up, who could inspire them with
enthusiasm. The Catholic party did not produce any individual of equal greatness to confront him. This gave to
Protestantism, in the days of its deepest dejection, an
unaccustomed impetus, and the part played by this one
man is shown by the retrogression which took place Qnly
too quickly after his death.
There is another point on which this episode is Of importance.  It was not only that the weight of a great and
powerful personage was thrown into the scale, that of a king
and a general to whom no one, and least of all Ferdinand II.,
could be compared'; Gustavus Adolphus commanded the
only army in this war which either did-not soon get beyond
discipline and control, or at any rate, throw off its distinctive creed. Who could call the-armies around him, or after
him, either Catholic or Protestant?  In the imperial armies
there were masses of Protestant hirelings, especially in
those of Wallenstein, and as many Catholics among the
troops of their opponents. The most deplorable thing in
this war was, that, especially after the fourth decade, those
who were carrying it on had entirely forgotten its originthat everything had -been engulfed in passion and tumult,
and that religion -had only become a blasphemous pretext
for horrible devastation and plunder.
All this was quite otherwise in the army of Gustavuas
Adolphus. Even after his death it continued to be brave
and well commanded, though- there was no one capable of
keeping up its spirit, its inner life, as he had done.
The armies of his adversaries consisted of collections of
rabble without country ors conscience.  His army was a
national Swedish one; his soldiers were Sweden's brave
peasants, led by their chivalrous nobles. All the national




GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS AND  tS ARMY.  46 i
enthusiasm of the people and the aristocracy lived in these
hosts, and this was a most important factor against the
hireling troops, who looked for nothing in war but plunder,
debauchery, and excess.
The Swedish army was also religious. It was Lutheran,
like its King, and every feature indicated that it was so. The
neglected levers of the sixteenth century were still in use.
"'Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott," " A mighty castle is our God,"
was sung, understood, and sympathized with. What a fearful contrast were the lawless bands who, in the name of the
one true faith, tore our unhappy country to pieces!
This gave a consecration to this war. Gustavus Adolphus
managed to control the wild lawless masses hy higher
motives; sentiments of nationality and religion had some
weight with them.  All this was changed by his death.
After this, when a battle was lost, some of the Swedes took
service under the Emperor, and they were in no way behind
the other soldiers in barbarity towards' defenceless citizens
and peasants.
it was this which conferred on. the war of 163o a peculiar
greatness, notwithstanding its short duration, and caused it
soon to lose the character of a mere invasion. Gustavus
Adolphus became a leading personage, Sweden a commandl
ing power in Europe. This arose from his personal charac
ter, the character of his army, and the moral power of both
over Catholics and Protestants.  Even the Pope did homage
to the hero, and said, on hearing of his death, " A hero, a
perfect man, who wanted nothing for perfection but.the true
faith."
There was nothL'g of Vhis sph t to be found anywhere
else. Who would venture to call a Wallenstein, a Tilly, or
a Pappenheim, a Catholic hero?
LANDING AND FIRST SUCCESSES, JUNE —DECEMBER, 163o.
The situation cf affairs in which Gustavus Adolphus now
began to take part has been characterized by our previous
remarks.
The power of the Leag'ue had been for two years on the
decline, and the Emperor  had done all that was in his
power to weaken it.  He had created for himself the
embarrassment ocasioned by the Edict of Restitution,
and thereby c1Prve;   i- 7rtrotes-tant states into the enemys




46.2 SECOND PHASE OF T'HE THIRTY YEARS' WA.B
camp, and  iow he had dismissed WallensteLn into the
bargain.
In so far, then, the situation was more favourable than
ever. Had Gustavus come three years earlier when Wal.
lenstein was victorious on the Baltic, the Edict not yet
issued, and the League still strong in the fidld, the struggle
wouid have been a desperate one,
It was by no means a slight one as it was, and tfere wns
something so adventurous in the- commencement of the
undertaking, that any less courageous person must have
shrunk from it. In Sweden, except the King and his impatient officers, there was not a man for the war. The
country was recoverng itself, after the sacrifices and sufferings of eighteen years of warfare, and was now to be
involved, in another great war, the end of which no one'
could foresee,  Parliament, would not be convinced that
instead of adhering to a watchful defensive policy towards
the Emperor, it was.necessary to adopt'an offensive attitude
exposed to a thousand dangers.- The States declared that
there' was no money, and tormented the King with their
blunt refusals until immediately before his departure.
After the hated King's back was turned, Denmark seemeddisposed to attack the country; and, until there was someresult to show, nothing but smooth words came from
France, England, and Holland; and nothing whatever was
to be expected from the German princes whom it was intended to aid.
The Duke of Pomerania, to whom Gustavus Adolphus
hoped to appear in the light of a liberator, sent an embassy
to him just as he was about to embark, urgently to entre-at.him to stay at home, or, at all events, not to land in
Pomerania, for the country was already nearly ruined, and
could not stand the passage of troops again.
On 24th June, i630, exactly one hundred years after the
presentation of the Confession of Augsburg, Gustavus
Adolphus appeared before the island of Usedom, and at
once began to disembark his troops and artillery.
He was preceded by a manifesto, which set forth all his
causes of complaint against the Emperor Ferdinand, and
explained that the King came to protect liberty in general,
which was threatened by Hapsburg, and in particular that
of the German Electors, who had just presented their ulta
matum to the Emperor at Ratisbon.




FIRST LANDING IN GFRMANY.             463
The project was certainly well enough conceived, but
still it produced no immediate result.
Germany was invaded by a splendid. force of 20,000 or
30,000 men,but the German empireremained to be conquered.
Suppose the feeling should be, Away with the foreigner, who
could find fault with it? Suppose the Germans, who had
been tearing each other's eyes out, should now make peace
to avoid the disgrace of foreign intervention, who could
regard it as anything but an act of reasonable self-defence?
Such.sentiments did here and there arise. It was asked,
"4 What will become of us if strangers insinuate themselves
amongst us and meddle in our affairs?"  But these-feelings
were not strong enough to unite parties, or to oppose a
compact front to the foreigner.
Still, he was regarded with suspicion and distrust; only if
it came to the worst would the Protestants side- with him.
The attitude of Saxony and Brandenburg towards the
Emperor, or rather their want of a decided attitude, was
the result of mere weakness, and fear withheld them from
risking anything for Sweden. The other Protestant elerhents
were isolated. The Landgrave of Hesse Cassel was a long
way off, and could not render any help, for he wanted help
himself. The imperial cities of South Germany looked
eagerly towards Gustavus Adolphus, but could do nothing
at so great a distance: their adherence would only be
possible if great victories brought him to South Germany..
The King was therefore in utter isolation on German
soil; and not only so, his line of retreat- was quite insecure.
His great distance from home, the watchful'enmity of Denmark and Poland, who were only awaiting a favourabie
moment for attack, could but lead to a fatal catastrophe
-if he met with a decided repulse half way,.Under such circumstances, it.required a bold, adventurous
spirit to undertake the invasion, and much prudence and
foresight not to make shipwreck at the very outset.
Gustavus Adolphus was quite equal to the task. He
proceeded like a man who accurately weighs every consideration and the means at his disposal, and, knowing that he
cannot retrace his path, advances only step by step, and
sometimes by circuitous paths.
The imperial army under Conti, which opposed him in
Pomerania and Mecklenburg, might be equal, if not superio;
to his in numbers. It' was in possession of all thie places




464 SECON1D PEIASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR,
which it had won durinng the successful warfare of several
years,.'bu  it was deprived of the great leader who had
created and kept it together.  It suffered from-  hunger,
desertion, and discouragement, was widely scatteredi. in part
given up by its leaders, and therefore it melted away day
by day, and was.i1 adapted to repulse a resolute, wellconducted attack, though it. Smade any advance into the
country very difficult.'The first success -of Gustavus worth naming, after taking
the islands of Rilgen and Wollin by surprise, was the occu-.
pation of Stettin in July.
It took place under circumist-ances which were striking
enough. The Protestant population trembled at the horrors
which had been connected with every occupation by foreign
troops, whether Catholic or Protestant.  Bogeslav feared
the Emperor's reprisals if a change should take place, and
threatened hostilities if the Swedes did not keep themselves
at a respectful distance. But Gustavus would not be repulsed, rejected every proposal of neutrality, and so pressed
the anxious Duke that with a heavy heart he at length
granted them  entrance. The Swedes behaved admirably,;
they were not, like other troops, quartered on the citizens,
but lived inl tents, went peacefully with the inhabitants to
church, and, with great energy, in four days constructed a
system of fortifications round the town which might have
served for a model, not for that period only.
At the same time a treaty was concluded between Sweden and Pomerania, which not only established a perpetual
alliance, but dexterously provided that in the event of Duke
Bogeslav's death Pomerania should fall to Sweden, which
afterwards took place.
This was the beginning of the tedious warfare by means
of which Gustavus AdQlphus spread his forces over Pomerania, Mecldenburg, and Brandenburg.  Napoleon considered him to be the greatest general of all times, chiefly because, during a d mngerous and tedious campaign, from' June,
-630o, to the autumn.of x 63, he advanced slowly, but surely,
towards the centre-of Germany without suffering any repulse
worth mentioning.'It was upon these tactics that the whole
fate of his'undertaking depended; not a single false step must
be made. And this solves the much-disputed question'why
he did not relieve Magdeburg while it was still possible to
do so.




RICtIELIEU _AND GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.  465
Mr agdeburg was certainly an important place as the capital
of North Germany, and the most prosperous seat of Protestantism. But important as he must have considered its
fate, he could not sacrifice his existence, the results of three
great wars, the army which it had taken him nineteen: years
to create, by placing himself between two fires, and involving
himself in a catastrophe which the authorities of the city
had brought up9n themselves by culpable imprudenceXo
Nothing occurred during the summer of I630 but an
advance step by step into North Germany. It took months
to. get the whole of Pomerania into his hands, and to
conquer every town, and months more before he had gained
a firm footing in Brandenburg.
So difficult was the situation that his own brother-in-law,
in Brandenburg' afterwards only allowed a few fortresses to
be taken from- him by force.
On 24th December a decisive blow was struck at the
flower of the imperial troops, who, tortured by cold and
hunger, were lying between Greifenhagen and Garz. The
whole of Pomerania, with the exception- of Colberg and
Greifswald, and part of Neumark, was now in his power;
but his -only allies were Francis of Saxe Lauenburg, the
exiled Dukes of Mecklenburg, the Administrator Christian
William,of Magdeburg, and Bogeslav of Pomerania; with the
exception of the latter, princes without land.
The most laborious part of the campaign was now over,
and it had become obvious to every one that the Swedish
war was no repetition of the unhappy Danish one, which
had been conducted without the least skill or success. In
the present instance resolute determination and prudent
foresight were singuilarly combined.
TREATY OF BXRW2ALDE, JATUYARY, 163 I.-CONVENTION OF
LEIPZIG  AND FALL OF MAGDEBURG, MAY~,- 6 63.-VIc
TORY OF BRE:TENFESLD,-S9g'PTEMIBER, 1631.
With the beginning of the new year a new-ally appeared,
Who was not without value-'Cardinal Richelieu. He could
do pretty much what he pleased in France, and was in a
position to entertain the idea of renewing the foreign policy
of Henry IV., Henry!I., and Francis I. France had
neither finances nor army for independent intervention. If
she desired, therefore, to take a part in European affairs,
30




466 SECOND PHASE OF THE TfItRTY YEARS' WAR
she must ally herself with' some foreign military ruler, and
Gustavus Adolphus appeared to be the man.
He was in want of money, for his resources were still
very limited, and as a foreigner he seemed adapted to support the acquisitive schemes in which France indulged in
the ~name of "German liberty." He might perhaps be
employed as a battering ram for the French policy.. Richelieu gave Gustavus credit for being what Bernhard of
Weimar was afterwards to be, and what the Swedes at last
actually became; and there did not now seem to be muc:h
cause to anticipate failure on his part.
But Richelieu found his master in Gustavus Adolphus.
France had hitherto known nothing of'a " King" of Sweden,
for the rulers of that country did not wear their crowns by
the grace of God, only by the election of the States and
people. Gustavus declared at once that only as King would
he negotiate, and Richelieu was obliged to yield.
And, what was of more importance, he was also obliged
to make important concessions. His endeavour to obtain
an influence over the conduct of affairs was futile. All that
he could obtain was a promise from Gustavus that he
would nowhere attack the Catholic Church as such, and
would otherwise restore everything to its previous condition of peace. Even the cession of a slice of Germany on
the French frontier, which Richelieu desired to have for the
protection of German liberty, was refused. "Not a village
shall the French have," said Gustavus Adolphus.
Thus he had fully accomplished his object. France
granted him subsidies in the name of their common interests; but the political and military leadership belonged
solely to Sweden. The Treaty of B13rwalde (January, x631 )
was therefore a great diplomatic victory for Gustavus
Adolphus. It provided him with the means of carrying on
the war, while he fully maintained his independence.
Meanwhile the contest about the fortresses continued.
By the spring the King had made two important conquests
-that of Colberg in March, ahd of Frankfort-on-the-Oder
in April.
Consciousness began to dawn upon the Protestant States
which had not yet joined either side, that the time was
come for- them  to take an independent course. The
Electors.'of Saxony and Brandenburg, as the chief representatives of German Protestantism, and yet not favourable.




THE CONVENTION AT LEIPZIG.               467
to Sweden, both severely menaced by the Edict of Testitution, were now compelled to adopt a decisive policy, The
Protestant States of South Germany were in the same post
tion; they had everything to fear-from Catholic restoration,
and little to hope for from Sweden. For both these groups'there'Wa a common.programme prescribed by the nature
of the case-armed neutrality, for the protection of Pro
testantism  against the Emperor. of the German nation.
against the foreigner.  Si'nce. tie dismissal of Wallenstein
the imperial arms had been everywhere at a disadvantage.
The League, or rather -the Elector of Bavaria, maintained -a
policy of delay which displayed little zeal for the Emperor.
If the King of Sweden. -had to halt before Saxony and
Brandenburg, he would be left in the lurch.  If these
adversaries united to form a conmpact mass, and said to the
Emperor, " We will keep. to the religious peace, and have
nothing to do with thee foreigner," there would be a pro.
spect of a peace which would satisfy both the religious and
national demands of Germany, Armed mediation is certainly often the most thankless policy; but under some circumstances it alone can turn the scale. The means of
those upon whom it depended-were quite sufficient; but then
there must be no delay in collecting and using them; and,
above all things, it must not be imagined that the end
would be attained by boastful speeches and endless scribbling. This simple and obvious policy was pursued with
great firmness by a man who has been much censured'and
misunderstood, Count Arnim von Boytzenburg.*
In February a convention took place at Leipzig, at which
there was a brilliant, assemblage of Protestant -States, and
they discussed the subject of a common programme till May.
Neither of the military parties took part in it —neither
-the League nor Gustavus Adolphus. The Jesuits jeered,
and published mocking fugitive pieces,t because they per* Until x629 he was in Wallenstein's army, after 163I an Electora'
Field-Marshal. Upon his continued relations with Wailentein, see
Gfrorer, who seems to overlook the tact that in the existing position
of affairs, it was quite a different thing to be in connection. with Wal.
lenstein and with the Court of Vi.nna.
t For instance:"The poor lit.le Lutheran princes
Are holding a little convention at Leipzig.
Who is there P A princeling and a half.
What aro they going to'do? Make a little"wa'.  bo'




468 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
ceived the danger of success, and Gustavus Adolphus set
his Chemnitz to negotiate, because he foresaw that if their
end were obtained, all that he had attained would be lost.
But the helpless indecision  of the princes and  their
ministers took good care that the one thing should not
happen which could have given Germany peace by German
-means. After discussions which lasted for months, great
fstivities and carousals, the assembly broke up without the
smallest result. The decision with which they finally consoled themselves was simply ridiculous. They had intended
to form a league, but instead of that they reckoned up what
number of troops each party could  bring in case they
should form a league some other time.
A religious discussion also took place. Of course no
agreement was come to; but a praiseworthy promise was
given to treat each other better in future than they had
hitherto done. The Convention of Leipzig is best described
by one who took part in it: " For four weeks we feasted
and caroused like excellent Christians, and can say, like
the bishop who cut his finger,' Quantum  patimur pro Jesu
Christo.'"
Meanwhile the League had roused itself up.  Tilly had
joined Pappenheim, who was besieging  Magdeburg, and
before  Gustavus  Adolphus arrived  the city was taken,
devastated, burnt, and the inhabitants  butchered  with
unparalleled barbarity.*
This stirred up  the hatred  of the Protestants afresh
Who's going to lead it? The little King of Sweden.
Who'll find the money? Tipsy George of Saxonyo.
Whom will it please? Little Palatine Fritz.
What's it all about? His little nest at Heidelberg."
-RAUMER, Vol. III.
"Die armen lutherischen Fiirstelein
Halten zu Leipzig ein Conventelein.
Wer ist dabei? Anderthalb Fiirstelein.
Was sollen sie anfahen? Ein klein Kriegelein.
Wer soll's /fihlreh? Das schwedisch Koniglein.
Wer wird's geld geben P Das sAchsisch Biergorglein.
Wer wird sich dessen freuen? Das pfalzisch Fritzlein.
Warum ist's zu thun? Um sein heidelbergisch Nestelein."
* Droysen considers it probable, though not certain, that the storm.
ing from May o1-2oth was begun on receiving a treacherous sign from
the city itself. By whom  given cannot now be ascertained. The
city was set fire to by Pappenheim's orders, but whether he intended
its entire destruction it is impossible to say. 




FALL OF MAGDEBURG.                469
lagainst the Emperor, and brought the behaviour of the
Swedes during the war into a favourable light. They were
everywhere in an enemy's country, yet they could not be
reproached with anything like the outrages of the imperial
troops in the empire itself.'In March, Gustavus Adolphus
had issued strict regulations to protect those who had soldiers quartered upon them from exorbitant demands from
the officers and troops;* and this gave him more adherents
among the people than victorious' battles would have
done.
Meanwhile the'inteimediate party was quite broken up.
There was no neutrality; on one side was Tilly, on the
other Gustavus. Both coveted accessions; and sought
to gain them, now by persuasions, now by threats. The
Elector of Brandenburg had only consented with great
reluctance, and under all.-sorts.of conditions, to surrender
Spandau and Kiistrin to the Swedes. After the fall of
Magdebutrg he demanded Spandau back again, and as he
would not listen to the King's friendly remonstrances, the
latter advanced. with his artillery to Berlin, and while it
was directed against the castle, he compelled:the Elector
to sign the treaty with Sweden. The neutrality of electoral
Saxony was soon also at an end.
The indecision of this court was so great, that until both
parties were in the country and demanded its adherence,
nobody knew who was its friend or foe. The country was
purely Protestant; the imperial troops behaved as they did
everywhere, while the Protestant Swedes spared both
people and country. This decided the question.
At the end of August, Saxony went over to Gustaas
Adolphus, and this gave an impetus to other accessions in
central and southern Germany, In the beginning of
September, the Saxon and Swedish armies met'at Diiben,
and advanced into the plains of Leipzig, to give the Imperialists battle. Tilly had united all the imperial forces
that were at hand, but did not intend to give battle.
Pappenheim, on the contrary, and the officers, who were
weary of perpetually moving hither and thither, were eager
for it, and when. the Swedes came in sight rushed away
with their cavalry from the main army to begin, the contest.
The attack was a failure, and now Tilly himself was obliged
to give battle.
* GOfrres.




470 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
They fought from the 7th to the 17th of September, on
the Breitenfeld. The Swedes fought mainly by themselves,
for the' Saxons only kept their posts for a short time, and'
the Elector, who a few days before had declared, that if
Gustavus Adolphus did not at once advance to battle he
would attack Tilly alone, fled miles away from  the battle-'
field. The Swedes fought against 34,ooo imperial troops,
with I3,ooo infantry and 8,ooo cavalry. The material of
the former was not bad, and their leader' was a hitherto
unvanquished general.
Tilly's plan was to outflank the enemy's line of battle by
means of his superior number of cavalry, and then to surround' them. But the plan was frustrated by the skilful
tactics of the  Swedish infantry and cavalry together.
After the conflict had begun by a fierce cannonade, the
masses of cavalry rushed at each other, and after each
attack, the Swedish cavalry parted to the right and left,
thus leaving space for the fearful firing of the musketeers,
and  ihe light cannons behind them. TThus the divisions
of infantry and cavalry continually relieved each other;
the excellent. discipline of the Swedes, the regular interchange of weapons, the skill of their leaders, and the
unusual agility of the separate divisions, finally gained the
day. The valour of the imperial troops was worlthy of'their
ancient fame. They stood the enemy's fire like walls, but
could not match his tactics. The approach' of night put an
end to the contest, which had lasted for five hours Tilly's
army was almost annihilated, and he nrrowly escaped
death himself.
VICTORIOUS MARCH OF GUSTAruS ADOLPHUS TOWARDS
SOUTH  GERMANY, OCTOBER, i6xi.-His  PLANS. OF
RESTORATION.
Immense results followed this victory. All that had been
accomplished by the imperial arms since x62o, in- North
Germany, was'undone. The fruits of the victories of
Wallenstein and  Tilly,- by which North. Genrman  Protestantism was lamed, were destroyed, and from tile manner
of the retreat of Tilly's army, it was- doubtful whethler it
would confront the enemy again. The greater'part of
Germany would probably now be open to the Swede;
perhaps he would head a triumphal march to the Rhinr




VICTORIOUS MARCH TO SOUTH GERMANY.  471
and the Maine. The King at first advanced cautiously
towards the south, as yet unconscious of the great results of
his victory; he reached the Maine and Wiirzburg without
striking a blow, and when Tilly opposed him, he was
victorious over him again.
It has often been asked, why, after the victory of Breitenfeld, Gustavus Adolphus did not at once advance to
Bohemia, march to Vienna, and before the Emperor could
assemble an army, decide the contest before the walls of
the capital. Why, instead of doing this, he left the attack
on the Austrian hereditary dominions, to the Elector of
Saxony, and himself advanced to the Rhine and the Maine,
where there was no hostile army of any importance.
Eminent men about the King regretted afterwards that he
took this course, and eighteen years after his death, Oxenstierna was of opinion that the King made a great blunder,
contrary to the advice of his best friends.
Many reasons may be imagined which determined the
King not to take the former otherwise obvious course.
In the first place, he had not then that idea of the importance of his victory, in the plains of Leipzig, which he afterwards derived from its actual results, and it was on these
results that the opinions of the generals were mainly based.
It could not then be precisely known how completely the
power of the League was destroyed.
Then the very loose alliance with the Elector required
peculiar caution. The Elector maintained that he was still
the independent leader of his troops. If this were conceded to him, his command must be of a kind that, however exercised, could hurt no one but himself. Gustavus
Adolphus sent him to Bohemia, because he thought it more
prudent to set his doubtful ally to harry the Austrian
territory than to send him to the Maine and the Rhille,
where, as the succourer of the Prote,;tants, he would haveP
appropriated to himself all the results of the Swedish
victories; would have taken uip hig old alliances more
injuriously than ever, and have been changed from a lukewarm ally into an open enemy.
By going himself to the'south, he made the Elector
innocuous, and created a permanent power for himself by
the adherenc e of the Protestant princes and imperial rities
of the west and south. He was not mistaken in the value
of these allies. The South Germans remained the longest




472 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
faithfll to the Swedes, and allied themselves so closely. with
them that there was no fear of their defection.
It was here that Gustavus Adolphus had his most gracious
task to perform, and he really seemed like a saviour to
the oppressed Protestant States. In Bohemia and Upper
Austria, Protestantism had been completely crushed, and
could not be revived simply by the entrance of Protestant
troops; but in the favoured provinces of the Maine and the
Rhine there were millions of Protestants who, since I6a2,
had been groaning under the oppression of their fanatical
"converters," and were anxiously awaiting their liberation.
This was expressed in the invitation to Gustavus Adolphus
to lend them a hand against Hapsburg, which was addressed
to him by a number of states assembled at Frankfort. He
came to assert the rights of Protestantism; if he did not
redeem his word, he would lose not only his prestige, but
the substantial support of his whole policy.
Hesse Cassel, Darmstadt, the Palatinate, and its collateral lines, Wiirtemberg, and all the imperial cities from
Frankfort to Ulm and Augsburg, formed together a great
power in Germany. The time was come for wresting them
from the Hapsburg power, and restoring the ascendancy of
the Protestants.
After taking Erfurt with one blow, in the beginning of
October, he passed through Thuringia to Franconia without
meeting with any resistance; and now began the period of
his triumphs, and a time of prosperity for his troops such
as they had never known. Konigshofen, Wiirzburg, Hanau,
Frankfort, and H6chst fell quickly one after another into
his hands.  The States of the Franconian district did
hosmage to him as the Duke of Franconia, and his famished
troops revelled in the luxuriance of the great "priests' row"
(pianengasse), as the line of ecclesiastical states from the
1Maine to the Rhine was then called.
At Wiirzburg there was again a sanguinary passage of
arms with Tilly, which ended in his retreat. After this,
Gustavus could peacefully take possession of the country
from Franconia to the Rhine. His position was as brilliant
as that of any onz who had taken part in this war. From
the coast of Pomerania he had advanced to the line of the
Maine; there he appeared only as an adventurous general.
t4ere, in the hear: ot the empire, he received the Protestamn
States like a German Emperor of the olden time.




PROBABLE PROJECTS OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. 473
Still, his position was not without difficulties.  His
alliance with the German princes was always insecure; the
faithfulness of the imperial cities was no security against
their defection; a single failure would drive Saxony and
Brandenburg into the enemy's camp.  Those only were
true to him who had much to receive and little to give.
The exiled princes who expected him to re-instate them —
those who were landless, who looked for a rich booty, the
distressed South German princes-such as the Prince of
Hesse Cassel-who hoped for protection against the foreign
rule of the Spaniards and Jesuits. But none of these conferred any power; they were only jrol/tgs whom it was otten
hard to please. That Saxony and Brandenburg regarded
the King with distrust and aversion, was not merely a
suspicion; it was a fact. Both had only been frightened
into alliance with him by threats. If now or later, they
found any loophole which would enable them to coime to
terms with the Emperor, they would avail themselves of it.
Gustavus was not in the least deceived by them.
Among the princes of Central Germany there was a fear
lest all this should end in merely exchanging a Hapsburg
master for a Swedish one, and this could but be strengthened as the King's plans were developed by the growing
success of his arms.
At any rate, the victorious march towards the south and
west had essentially changed his plans.
The Swedes had hitherto found a scanty subsistence in
the most sterile and exhausted parts of Germany; but now
they were in countries which rejoiced their hearts. They
have themselves given us naive descriptions of their surprise. They seem to say, It is good to be here; let us
mrake tabernacles — whereas this had never entered their
heads in the camp at Werben or on the sandy plains of
Brandenburg.  That Gustavus Adolphus also may have
now entertained ideas of permanent conquest and settlement, which did not occur to him on the Pomeranian coast
and in the Mark, is quite intelligible. Was he not revered
as if he had been Emperor?  Were not his meetings of
princes held with all the old imperial pomp?  Was he not
regarded with enthusiastic affection by the people?
Nuremberg, the most German of the imperial cities, and
the proudest of the republics, told hira expressly that if there
were an election of a new head of the empire, " they knew




474 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
of no one whose choice would be more suitable and happy
than that of his Majesty himself."
When Gustavus Adolphus was advancing from Pomerania to Brandenburg, the Elector sent an embassy to him,
to ask what recompense he should demand as a material
indemnity in Germany.  The King replied that if the
exiles were restored, religious liberty granted to the States,
and he were assured that he need not fear any attack from
the Hapsburgs in his own country, he should be satisfied.
But by this assurance he meant a pledge which should at
once indemnify him, and protect him against attack. He
intended probably some slip of the Baltic coast, like that
which afterwards fell to Sweden on the mouth of the Oder
in Pomerania.
But now that he was at Mayence the case was different.
He was now justified in demanding what would then have
been premature. When the Catholic party made overtures
of peace, lie made the following stipulations:I. The Edict of Restitution shall be null and void.
2. Both the Catholic and Protestant religion shall be
tolerated in town and country.
3. Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia shall be restored to
their previous condition; all the exiles shall return to their
estates.
4. The Elector Palatine Frederic V. shall be restored to
his country.
5. The Bavarian Electorate shall cease; the electoral
vote shall be restored to the Palatinate.
6. The practice of the evangelical religion and all civic
privileges shall be restored to Augsburg.
7. All Jesuits, as disturbers of the public peace and authors
of the present difficulties, shall be banished from the empire.
8. Protestants., as well as Catholics, shall be admitted
into every institution.
9. The monasteries in the Duchy of Wurtemberg which
have been illegally taken possession of by the Catholics
shall be restored.
IO. Out of gratitude for the salvation of the German
empire, your Majesty the King of Sweden shall be elected
King of Rome.
i. All expenses incurred in the imperial cities and in
the Duchy of Wurtemberg by the Edict of Restitution shaU
be repaid.




CONDITIONS OF PEACE.                475
z, Theie shall be as many Lutheran as Catholic canons
appointed to the cathedrals.
We have two accounts of these conditions, one by Khevenhiller (vol. xii.), the other in Richelieu's memoirs
(vol. vii.). They agree, except on one point; the clause
about the election of Gustavus Adolphus as King of Rome
is wanting in Richelieu. This important point is not well
authenticated.  There is very  important testimony of
another kind against that of Khevenhiller.*
About the same time Gustavus Adolphus told the people
of Nurembergt that " from his friends he required nothing
but gratitude. What he had taken from his foes he intended
to keep. The Protestant League must separate itself from
the Catholics, and provide itself with a suitable leader,
especially for the war. He could not be satisfied with pay
for a few months, like a military adventurer. He might
demand territory'ex iure genliurm,' according to Grotius,
although he had enough of his own. He could not give up
Pomerania, on account of the sea; and if he gave anything
back, he might at the same time demand the rights of
supremacy which the Emperor had hitherto enjoyed. The
old imperial constitution was good for nothing; it was like
an ancient ruin, good enough for rats and mice, but not
habitable for men."
A resolution of the Swedish Parliament now proposed
religious liberty, abolition of the Inquisition for ever, and
restitution to the Protestants; compensation for Sweden's
war expenses, and security for the payment of them; a
league between the Protestants and the King of Sweden,
with the diirectoiurnt belli, which was his due, in all the wars
with the Emperor and other potentates; the cession of
Pomerania and Wismar to Sweden, in compensation for
which Brandenburg was to have Silesia; Saxony, Lusatia,
and the Landgrave of Hesse, the Dukes of Weimar, and
others, were to be endowed at the expense of Austria.
This programme was quite in accordance with the wishes
of the Protestant imperial cities; but the rulers did not
approve of it, and were all the more suspicious of it
because the details of it were unknown, and because it was
clear that its ultimate objects were purposely left obscure.
W'ould the difference between being acknowledged Protector of a
Protestant league and king of Rome be really so great?-F..
t Geiier.




176 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEA'RS''WAR
In the circles where politics were enshrouded in the mists
of petty sovereignty, they foreboded the wo st. They
already beheld the Swede as Emperor, and German liberty
destroyed by Sweden instead of by Spain. Saxony especially was filled with alarm, and even among those who
were dependent on the King's favour great discontent was
spreading, since it had appeared that he would not hear of
the reinstatement of the exiled princes in the now partly
vanquished countries before the end of the war.
In short his relations with the princes, with lands and
without, became less friendly week by week, while with the
people and the inhabitants of the imperial cities they
became closer and closer. He reproached the princes with
the un-German attitude of their armies and policy, while he
gained the hearts of the people by amiable words. Like
his grandfather, he was a great orator, and was wonderfully
skilful in adopting the popular confidential tone which works
upon the masses, and every speech of his to such audiences
was a triumph.
OVERTHROW OF THE POWER OF THE LEAGUE.-RETURN
OF WALLENSTEIN.*-BATTLE OF LUTZEN, NOVEMBER
16TH, I632.
Thus passed the winter of I63I-2. In the middle of February the King advanced into the parts of South Germany
which he had not before entered, in order to attack the
League in Bavaria, the chief seat of its power. On the
Lech, Tilly encountered him once more; and in a hot and
final conflict, thanks to the execution done by the Swedish
artillery, the remains of the forces of the League were
defeated, and the Lech was crossed in April. Tilly died of
his wounds a few days afterwards, and Gustavus Adolphus
made his entry into Munich, which was quite unprotected.
The whole of Bavaria up to the last fortress fell into the
hands of the Swedes. The conquest of Germany up to the
Austrian hereditary dominions was accomplished.
This had been foreseen at Vienna, and since the winter of
I63I, vast efforts had been made to insure the defence of
the country against the Swedes, in case the power of the
League should be shattered. But the coffers were empty,
* Hurter, Wallenstein's vier letzte Lebensjahle. Vienna, 186.L




OVERTHROW  OF THE LEAGUE.             477
and men were wanting for the re-organization of the degene.
rate army.
The extremity to which they were reduced at Vienn-a is
proved by the assiduity with which Wallenstein was again
approached. He had been living meanwhile like a prince
on his estates in Bohemia, and endeavouring to throw even
the Emperor into the shade by his unparalleled magnificence. No monarch of those days kept such a court as he
did. He had taken his dismissal with affected coolness, yet
those who knew him were convinced that no mortal could
feel being degraded from the highest position more keenly.
His whole life had been passed in war and military
command, and his mind had been engrossed by passionate
and boundless ambition. It was a great mistake to suppose that he had forgotten his disgrace, and was meditating upon anything but revenge. There was not a single
trait of magnanimity or of self-forgetfulness in his coarse
nature. All his plans, even when he was acting in concert
with the Emperor, revolved round self. He had sprung up,
as the favoured child of fortune, out of the revolution; he
had seen too much greatness laid low to regard loyalty or
devotion to any party or person as anything more than a
prejudice. He never forgot that the Emperor had once
betrayed weakness towards his foes.
After the battle of Breitenfeld the Emperor had no peace;
those about him became louder and louder in demanding
the recall of Wallenstein, for he alone could help them in
their distress. The Emperor had only dismissed him with
reluctance, as the least of two evils; he now sought to enter
into negotiations with him in the tone of a repentant petitioner, but Wallenstein took no notice of any overtures for
months. He persistently behaved as if the idea of under.taking the command of the army again had never crossed
his minld, and played out the comedy of obstinately refusing
what he most anxiously desired. At length, after many
fruitless entreaties, he was persuaded to equip an army
within three months, on the express condition that as soon
as it was under arms he should give up the command to
another; the State should not be without an army in its
great distress, so far as it was in his power to help it, but
he would not lead it at any price. January, I632.
The name of AVallenstein worked, as of old, like a charm.
With his accustomed skill, and with all the pecuniary aid




478 SECOND PHASE OF rHE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
the imperial government could afford, within three months he
collected an army of 5o,0oo men. All the colonels had
received their brevets from him, and the troops would doubtless soon be dispersed, if h}e was not at their head to take
all those means to keep,hem together, which no one else
understood,
At the end of March he declared that his task was done.
The army was on its legs; it was for the Emperor to name
the man to whom he had promised the command, and then
he should withdraw.
The Emperor sent a first, and then a second messenger
to implore him, but the Duke was inexorable; the third
succeeded in inducing him to take the command, but on the
most extraordinary conditions. The articles of Znaym, of
April, i632, established between the Emperor and his
general a relation elsewhere unknown in history.
It provided that the Duke of Friedland is, and shall remain,
the commander-in-chief not only of the Emperor and all
the archdukes, but also of the Spanish crown. Wallenstein
wished to secure himself against a second dismissal.
Further: this office confers unlimited supremacy on him.
Neither the Emperor nor the King of Hungary shall ever be
with the army, still less take the command. The sole disposition of the army in the field shall be entrusted to him;
neither advice, nor any personal influence from Vienna
shall interfere with him. Still more incredible were the
stipulations made by the Duke as to the results and rewards
of his victories.
As ordinary reward, an Austrian hereditary territory was
to be made over to him; as extraordinary reward he was
to have sovereign jurisdiction over all the conquered countries. It must be remembered that nearly all Germany was
to be conquered.
He was to- have the sole right of confiscating estates in
the Empire; neither the Aulic Council, nor the Imperial
Chamber at Spires, were to interfere in it.
Pardons also were to be granted only in accordance with
his will. If the Emperor granted safe conduct to any one,
or any other favour, it was only to affect his person and
honour, not his property. Unconditional pardon or repeal
of confiscation could be granted only by the Duke of Friedland, "For," he added to this extraordinary condition,
"the Emperor is far too lenient, and grants pardons to




RECALL OF WALLENSTEIN.              479
every one at Court. This diminishes the necessary means
for rewarding the superior and inferior officers, and for
keeping the soldiers in good humour."
This treaty was Wallenstein's first sin against the Emperor,
and it was an immense mistake; it was impracticable and
contradictory.  Either Wallenstein must be practically
Emperor, and Ferdinand must abdicate, or the house of
Hapsburg must keep its power and Wallenstein must perish;
in either case a catastrophe must ensue. As he could not
ble deposed, the only probable course would be to murder
him. All that followed therefore, first dalliance with treason,
then actual treason, and Wallenstein's murder lay hidden in
the bud in this treaty.
But he had preserved the skill with which he could create
an army out of homeless soldiers of every nation, rabble,
and vagabonds of all sorts, and handle it like a tool.
He had quietly looked on at the misfortunes of his old
friend Max, of Bavaria, and had withstood all his entreaties
for help with revengeful satisfaction. His plan was at first to
carry on a defensive warfare, which he could sustain better
than the foreigner, and his troops had to be accustomed to
war.
Wallenstein's first operations were successful. Early in
May he fell upon Prague unawares, and compelled the
troops of Electoral Saxony to make a hasty retreat. By
the end of June the Elector of Bavaria joined him with the
remnant of his troops, and their united forces advanced to
Franconia. Near Nuremberg, Gustavus Adolphus had
erected a fortified camp; Wallenstein established himself
in like manner opposite to him. He did not obtain a
victory, but the assaults of the Swedes on his redoubts were
fruitless.
In the middle of September, Gustavus Adolphus divided
his army, and returned with one division to Bavaria, when
news came that Wallenstein had invaded Saxony. He had
in fact just begun to act on the defensive, and had attacked
the weakest part of the Swedish line of communication.
An invasion of Saxony was doubtless the best means of
compelling Gustavus Adolphus to return northwards; and,
besides this, owing to the untrustworthiness of the Elector,
the greatest political consequence might ensue from it.
Gustavus Adolphus advanced by forced marches to
Saxony, in order to arrive before the Elector should have




480 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
gone over to Wallenstein. When he appeared in Thuringia
and Saxony, where Wallenstein's troops had behaved atrociously, the people received him with acclamations. From
November 6-i6 he encountered Wallenstein in the same
plains where he had fought his first battle, near Liitzen.
The battle which took place here was one of the most
severe and sanguinary of the whole war. Command was at
first difficult, for a thick fog lay upon the plain, which did
not clear off till ten o'clock. The morning passed without
a decision. The Swedes sprang over the trenches and broke
one of the imperial squares, but were forced to retreat
again. Both sides fought with the greatest valour, but the
combat still remained undecided. The King had for a long
time disused armour, on account of his corpulence, and wore
a light leather jerkin. His idea was, God is with us, and
if it is His will to protect us He can do so without
armour. He was near-sighted, and, as ever in the thickest
of the fray, he rode forward with but few companions, and
got among a host of hostile cuirassiers. A shot struck his
horse as he was dismounting; a second shot struck his
arm. His companions were quickly dispersed; his two
pages found it difficult to help him from his horse, when
a third shot struck him, which seems to have been fatal.
The page who was last at his side, related that while he
was helping the King to dismount, hostile cuirassiers came
up and asked who the wounded man was; that he would
not say; but that the King made himself known, and then
some one shot him through the head. The page himself
was fatally wounded, and died a few hours afterwards.
It was not until his horse sprang riderless over the plain
that the news spread among the Swedes, "The King is
dead." His body was afterwards found stripped. With
fearful rage the Swedes now threw themselves upon the
enemy, and during the evening hours the imperial army
was totally defeated. The victory was won, but at what a
price!
But the cause for which Gustavus Adolphus fought did
not die with him. The course of events preserved the
stamp which he had impressed upon them.  The effects
of what he accomplished in two years were felt during
the whole war; and when peace was concluded, sixteen
years afterwards, the essential features of his plan were
realised. It was not therefore as affecting this that the im.




RESULTS OF THE DEATH OF GUSTAVUS.  481
portance of his death lay. At the Mime of his death, too,
he had attained that height of personal dignity which could
scarcely have been surpassed, but from which he might
have had to descend. For the splendour of his name he
died at the right time. In proportion as the hitherto ideal
forms of his political plans became more clearly defined,
his relations with those around him in Germany would
have been clouded, and this had already taken place to an
extent which foreboded no good. Gustavus Adolphus died
in the very height of his fame, and therefore the moral
influence of his character was undiminished.
But for the ilnmediate conduct of the war, and for his
policy., it was an irreparable loss.
There was no one at hand so competent to command on
the field of battle as he had  been.'Wrangel, Baner,
Torstenson, Bernhard von Weimar, were the most distinguished generals of the age, and all were trained solely in
his school; but in the main points, the organization and
the discipline of the army, none of them were equal to
him. The Swedish army was broken up into wild bands,
which were in no way superior to those of the enemy, and
Swedish bestiality was soon as notorious as that of the
imperial Croats.
Politically also it made a vast difference, whether a king
such as he was, was at the head of affairs, or generals and
diplomatists. He alone had been at the head of everything;
neither France nor the German princes had been allowed
to interfere, and this was a great blessing to Germany itself,
for their only idea was to share the rags and tatters of the
country between them. It was his mental superiority, the
loftiness of his aims, his whole character in short, which
enabled him to do this. Even his ambition was of a noble
stamp.
He was fighting for himself, his family, his lnonarchy, and
for Protestantism, and this was something totally different
from the struggles of his successors for rich booty or a
German principality. The objects of the ambition of these
men were narrower and therefore coarser. He might have
entertained the idea of setting up a Swedish empire.in Protestant Germany; but an Oxenstierna was not capable of t,
nor any of th: others. They behaved in Germany like
robbers and incendiaries; and the trophies from our churchos
and castles, which are preserved to this day by their pos3I




482 SECOND PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
terity in their palaces, are but the memorials' of a lawless
adventurous war.
The death of Gustavus therefore wa.s a great misfortune
for Germany. It was an exchange of one great and eminent
man for a number of military generals, who tore Germany
to pieces and drenched her with tears and blood; it was
nothing to them if the French scuffled with them on this
vast theatre of war, and they had no other idea than to drag
on the war for ever without object or aim. Gustavus
Adolphus had a distinct and definite aim in view; not so
his generals. When they returned to Sweden, they would
be nothing but Swedish subjects; in Germany they were
playing the part of generals; the war was to them a lucrative
trade —their living.
When, therefore, the war was dragged on for sixteen
years longer, and for ten of them without any good reason,
it was because there was no longer any power to give it a
political aim or end, and because there were many who
were interested in perpetuating the conflict and in bringing
the unhappy empire to utter ruin.




PART X.
rHIAD PHASE OF THE  THIRTY  YEARS' WAR.
RICHELIEU, OXENSTIERNA, AND BERNHARD
VON WEIMAR.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
FRANCE AFTER THE DEATH OF HENRY IV.*
Louis XIII., I6Io-43 and Mary of Medici.-The Parliament of I614.Murder of the Marshal d'Ancre, April, i617.-The Duke ci
Luynes. —Cardinal Richeiieu,  i624-42, and Louis XIII. —
Characteristics of both. —PRichelieu's political method.-His testament.-His rule at home and abroad.-Fall of La Rochelle, I628.
-The affair in the Valteline and the War about Mantua, 630o.
Louis XIII., I6IO-I643, AND  MARY  OF MEDICI. —THE
PARLIAMENT OF I614. —-DEATH OF THE MARSHAL
D'ANCRE.
T has already been expressly mentioned that by the treaty
of Bdirwalde, Gustavus Adolphus provided that he
s-hould receive French subsidies, but would not agree to
any cession of German territory nor to any interference with
the conduct of the war nor his policy, thus forming a striking
contrast to Maurice of Saxony, who by the treaty of Chambord ceded the three bishoprics to France.
This lasted so long as Gustavus lived. His death was
* Besides the literature before mentioned-Le Vassor, Histoire de
Louis XIII. I8 bde. Michelet, Hist. de France au I76me Sicle.
1857, Vols. xi., xii. (the memoirs of this period). Mdmoires de
Richelieu in the Midni. rdlatifs a l'histoire de France, I823, vii., viii.
Testament politique du Caidinal de Richelieu, 1764, 2 bdc. Journal du
Cardinal Richelieu, I664, 2 bde.  Aubery, Mdm. pour l'hist. du
Cardinal, i66o. Leclerc, Vie du Card. de Richelieu, I753. Lettres,
instructions, &c., du Cardinal de Richeiieu, par Avenel; Paris, i853.




484 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
a most desirable turn of affairs for France. HIle had been
ostensibly the ally of Richelieu's policy, but had in fact
curbed it, and when he was out of the way it had freer
scope than it ever otherwise would have had.
Henry IV. had died just as he was about to interfere in
German difficulties, and to re-assert the old French policy of
opposition to Hapsburg and the extension of France towards
thlle east.- His death was a crisis for France, which lamed
her for ten years; but this will surprise no one who considers the condition in which he found the country, and
that a reign of twenty years was not sufficient to overcome
the effects of the religious civil wars. It is not in the least
to be wondered at that all the elements which he had set at
rest were in a ferment again. The surprise rather is to what
an extent he had controlled them.
A repetition now occurred of the period of the Valois,
only with this great difference, that the transition was not
marked by a long civil war, and the genius of a priestly
statesman sufficed to establish the monarchy of Henry IV.
on a firmer basis than he had found it.
Louis XIII. was still a child, and a regency was therefore
inevitable. Under any circumstances this is an anxious
thing, and it was doubly so in this case, because great difficulties had but just been overcome, and the Regent was a
foreigner who had not the smallest vocation for government.
Mary of Medici was not in the least like Catharine. She
was neither so intriguing, so malicious, nor so filled with
passionate ambition; she was rather a pleasure-loving Italian,
neither deep nor dangerous, but entirely without the seriousness required for her task.
The traditions of Henry IV. were incompatible with such
a government. Sully, who had hitherto had the chief conduct of affairs, could not control the unhealthy influences
which now came into play, and as he was not the man to
belie his convictions for the sake of keeping his portfolio,
he resigned; he did not choose to be responsible for a
system which he did not approve. Under these circumstances it was the only dignified course for a statesman to
pursue, but it was a rare example, and especially so in
France
The most reckless extravagance ensued; offices, dignities;
favours and pensions were lavishly squandered, just what
might be expected from a woman's government, confronted




MARY OF MIEDICI.                 485
by an ambitious and exacting aristocracy. When the great
lords asked for important places they were given to them,
to insure their allegiance, but, instead of having this effect,
it only gave rise to new demands which robbed the crown
of its resources.
The finances, which had only just been extricated from
the difficulties of twenty years, were soon so exhausted and
the Crown so impoverished that it was compelled to have
recourse to those means which Sully had studiously avoided,
and which had been quietly allowed to fall into disuse under
Henry IV., the States-General and assemblies of notables.
Forms were thus reinstated which had been laid aside
for twenty years.  In October, X6I4, the States met at
Paris. It was the last meeting of the States-General of
old France, for those of i789 were no longer the same.
Had these States adhered to the historical traditions of
certain defined liberties, had they wisely co-operated in the
administration and in the enaction of laws, this assembly of
6I14 might have been a most important historical event.
But these conditions were entirely wanting. The StatesGeneral seemed to be already defunct; all their acts related
to separate class interests; the nobles and the clergy treated
the third estate with sovereign contempt. Whatever was
desired by one party was sure to be frustrated by another,
and no common legal ground was recognised. How different in England I Ten years later, the Stuarts were in a
situation similar to that of the regency in France. There
we see the nation, supported by the traditions of the past
and a never obsolete constitutional law, skilfuily availing
itself of new situations, and guided by courageous and
talented men, it enters upon a new order of things. Where
was the third estate in France which could aspire, to take a
part in the government, where the lower house that could
say, "We are three times as rich as your house of Lords,"
where the independent men who could lead the attack upon
the monarchy i
This meeting of the States-General sufficed to bury their
rights for ever.
It will be interesting to devote a little attention to this
last assembly of the States of old France, for its transactions
are characteristic of the period, and of the relations between
them and the crown; it is also not without importance for
a comprehension of the situation of the people. The




486 THIRD PHASE OF T-E THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
mission of the Assembly, as it was defined by the King, in
a short opening speech, was to bring the grievances of the
different States before the crown. Each estate held separate sittings to draw up statements of such grievances, and
each informed the others by message, of what it considered
of sufficient importance to be brought forward.
A great diversity of demands a d interests at once came
to light.
The nobles and clergy, desired the abolition of the sale
of places, which involved exclusion of the burgher class
from official posts, but the representatives of the third
estate, who almost all held such offices, were against it,
until the annuities and gratuities granted to the great nobles
should also be abolished. The discussion of this gave rise
to bitter accusations of one class against another. The
third estate stated, in the king's presence, that the nobles
pluncaered the State, and that by the enormous expenses to
% hich they had compelled the government, things were
brougllt to such a pass that the people were obliged to go
into the fields and eat grass like oxen. The nobles then
defended themselves; some thought these expressions slanderous, others considered the citizen class so far beneath
the nobles that the accusations were beneath contempt.
But no agreement was come to on the main question.
It was just the same with the second point. The clergy
demanded the proclamation of the decrees of the Council
of Trent; though with a reservation of all the liberties of
the Gallican Church, but the third estate was decidedly
opposed to it, fearing the condemnation of the heretics and
the introduction of the Jesuits.
There was another sharp discussion about the Jesuits in
the assembly. The third estate legally opposed the heretical political doctrine of the Jesuits as to the insecurity of
all temporal political power, and the right of the masses to
revolt. It demanded that it should be declared by an inviolable and fundamental law, that as the KIing was acknowledged as sovereign ruler in his own country and derived
his crown from God, no power on earth, temporal or
spiritual, had any right to his kingdom, neither to deprive
his sacred person of it, nor to release his subjects from their
fealty under any pretext whatsoever.
Behind these differences lurked the religious controversy;
it would have been a hard task to settle its even to a strorg




THE PARLIAMENT OF 1614.              487
government, and a weak one could in no wise adjust tlhe
differences. While CondO, Bouillon, Rohan, Soubise, and
Sully, seemed ready to take up arms against the government, allied as it was with Spain, attention was excited by
the determination with which Armand du Plessis cue Richelieu, Bishop of Lu~on, asserted the right of the Catholic
clergy to a share in the government, and demanded the
proclamation of the decrees of Trent. Clearly and firmly
he developed his ideas of church and state, and the
emphasis with which he spoke, bore witness to the self
reliance of this dignitary of the Church.
The government became more pitiful and helpless every
day; it was obliged to make all sorts of concessions; all
parties, and each with louder threats than the last, made
demands upon the crown, and the government was so intimidated that it consented to contradictory things.
The chief influence at Court had fallen into hands which
no party could tolerate, and which reminded the nation that
France was governed by a foreign regency.
The Queen, Mary of Medici, had brought with her from
Florence, a waiting maid, Eleonora Galigai, a cautious,
reserved Italian; she dressed the Queen's hair, and at the
same time gained possession of her ear. She was married
to a certain Concino Concini, a Florentine of obscure birth
and in decayed circumstances, who had made her acquaintance on the voyage from France. The attitude of this
couple was a model of that Italian virtuosoship which can
accommodate itself to all circumstances; can be at first content with a little, and when it has gained a footing assumes
the policy of the parvenu.
The Concinis made themselves indispensable to the
Queen, had a finger in all the court intrigues, were now in
league with this coterie, now with that, and preyed upon
them all. She collected treasures, he acquired offices and
dignities, rose step by step, was adorned with all sorts of
titles, and finally created Marquis d'Ancre, and Marshal of
France.
This favouritism was a thom in the sides of all, and of
course all the faults of the government were ascribed to it.
The Queen adopted a policy more and more opposed to
that recurrence to ancient traditional policy, which was
inaugurated by Henry IV.; she leagued herself with Spain,
by treaties and marriage contracts, and the lukewarmnesy




488 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
that she evinced in all government transactions deprived
her of the confidence of all parties.
The discontent which was most loudly expressed by the
princes and the eminent Huguenots, fermented for a long
time and became deeper and deeper.
In I614-I5, a blow could be foreseen, which would put
an end to this misgovernment. Meanwhile, the King had
reached the age of sixteen; he also had his advisers and
courtiers, and thus a remarkable schism took place. The
Court of the Queen did just what it pleased, and another
party assembled around the King and devised the fall of
the favourite.
The recollection of a fearful time was still fresh in men's
minds, when assassination was quite in vogue, and the idea
presented itself to some of Concini's foes that he must be
murdered. The Marshal was summoned to the King, and,
as he was crossing the bridge to the Louvre, in April, i6I 7,
he was struck by a fatal shot.
It was a singular coincidence that the beginning of the
King's independent reign should be marked by a political
murder.
When he heard that Concini had fallen, he exclaimed,
"Now I am king." But he was mistaken; it soon appeared
that he had only exchanged his Mayor of the Palace.
Among his playfellows was, the Duke de Luynes, a man
with a large family connection, clever and adroit, quite a
match for Concini; he now became the all-powerful
favourite, and the only difference between the new governrnent and the old was that the duke was a native and had
the nobles on his side instead of an Italian adventurer.
CARDINAL RICHELIEU, I624-42, AND LOUIS XIII.
The real change, however, took place with the Duke's
death in I62I, when the King was again obliged to choose
a Mayor of the Palace.
Since the murder of the Marquis d'Ancre, the King and
his mother had not been on good terms. The Queen had
to lament the loss of all political influence, together with
that of her favourite, and on the death of the Duke de
Luynes, she thought of the clever bishop Richelieu, who
had attracted the attention of all at the meeting of the
States-General in 1614. He first appears as a mediatox




LOUIS XIII.                   489
between the King and Queen, begins to take a part in
politics in I62I, and, after I624, guides the policy of
France.
This office of Mayor of the Palace, which Richelieu held
for twenty years, placed him in a singular position, for the
King never liked him, never reposed confidence in him; he
always had the painful feeling of dependence on a superior
will, and yet, conscious of his own inability, he allowed him
to govern France. For twenty years, all sorts of attempts
were made to deprive the Cardinal of his power; mother,
wife, brother, favourite, parties, and factions all tried to
persude the King to dismiss him, and he was often on the
verge of a precipice; a hint from the King would have consigned him -to the obscurity of a prison, still it was always
the King himself who prevented it, and would not part
with him, perhaps because he secretly feared him, and
had an idea that the man represented the greatness and
power of France.
Louis XIII. was now twenty-three years of age; he had
always been a-weakly boy, and had nothing of his father's
talents. He was grave, monosyllabic, and insignifiant looking, his whole appearance gave the impression of a commonplace person.  But he was also free from his father's bad
qualities, he was free from his soldier-like licentiousness and
sensuality; he was more respectable and less given to
excess than any king before Louis XVI. He was so
prosaic and taciturn that it was quite an event if a friendly
word to one of the ladies of the Court escaped him, but
during the whole of his life he was addicted to anything
rather than the cares of royalty. He tried to harden his
weakly body by the chase and physical exercises, his military tastes were expended in playing at soldiers with some
Swiss youths, whom he exercised in making a collection of
curious artns, in erecting little fortresses, &c.; instead of
governing men, he trained hawks and falcons; but with
all these innocent fancies, one virtue was united, he was
free from the ambition which had filled the minds of the
last of the Valois, without in the least better fitting them for
their calling; although placed by destiny in the first place,
he was modest enough to condemn himself to the second,
and to allow those who were more competent to rule
Singularly enough, he died immediately after Richelieu.
His self-denying subjection to a minister whom he did not




490 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WA.R.
like is unique in history. It arose from an idea that
Richelieu was the man to establish the greatest monarchy
in the world.
Richelieu began to take part in the government about
1620; first in the anxious position of a mediator between
two contending parties at Court, then as the leading man
who ruled everything.
He had been trained in a remarkable political school.
When the States-General met in I6I4 he was under thirty
years of age, but had excited general surprise by his gift of
eloquence. He early betrayed the qualifications of a born
statesman, whom chance only had clothed in the ecclesiastical garb; indeed he afterwards displayed more skill in
everything than in the affairs of the Church. The Roman
purple was to him but an outward garment, though a-wel.
come aid on account of the authority it conferred,
In the seventeenth century the ecclesiastical power had
still weight enough to accomplish more than the secular
arm, and it is certain that Richelieu could not have venttred on many of the things which he did without the
palladium of the clerical garb. His most intimate confidant
in his foreign policy was a Capuchin monk, a man belonging to the old French nobility, and inspired with the corresponding ambition. He and his alter-ego, Pater Joseph,
established a state which more than any other assumed a
development opposed to the Romish ecclesiastical power,
and sought to make the hierarchy of the Church a hierarchy
of the State.
The family from which Richelieu sprang belonged to the
old French nobility. Men of the race of Du Plessis, who
had distinguished themselves, could be mentioned even in
early times. He had nothing, therefore, of the unequal
birth of the parvenu who has laboured hard to attain his
position, and then displays audacity on the one hand and
cowardice on the other. Richelieu had the stately gait of
a wel-born rman, who rules the nobles, not as a plebeian,
but as the representative of a political idea, who can
venture to oppose his equals. His path brings him into
contact with the highest personages in the State, and he
pursues it without faltering.
He found circumstances, as they were sure to be after
thirteen years of misgovernment, without principles or
power. The State was in the utmost confusion; there was




CARDINAL RICHELIEU.                4 9 
neither orderly administration nor regular income, nor a
healthy financial condition. No obedience was rendered
to the Government: the officials either did what they
pleased, or were under the command of the great nobles or
powerful governors, whose favour was of more importance
than that of the King and his ministers. All the popular
advantages of a good government were also sacrificed; uni.
formity of the law, security of person and property in town
and country.  The advantages of Sully's administration
were sorely missed, and France no longer maintained the
distinguished position in foreign affairs to which she had
been raised by Henry IV. This great monarchy exercised
scarcely any influence upon the fate of Europe. If Spain
took her in tow, she might, with the help of her Hapsburg
relations, help France to regain her lost possessions.
All this had to be changed; internally the use of its
natural powers must be restored to the State; it must
regain the influence abroad which was its due.
Richelieu was resolved to recur to the home and foreign
policy of Henry IV., and especially to sever the bond with
Spain. His plan was to take part in the great war which was
just begun, and to round off France at the expense of the
German empire.
But before this could be seriously thought of, the internal
administration must be readjusted; before he could send
his armies to take part in the German war, France must
have a government which could secure the service of her
subjects and the use of the country's wealth; the monarchy
must regain popularity, factions must be humbled, and the
trustworthiness of officials restored.
The first ten years of Richelieu's reign were devoted to
this task of renovating the French state, and it was the part
of his labours most worthy of admiration.
Richelieu-never could tell in the morning whether he
should be at the helm in the evening. Countermines were
continually at work against him, instigated by the King's
mother and brother, the nobles, the clergy, and the Protestants; he had to be perpetually on the watch to frustrate
these intrigues, yet never to interrupt the course of business.
He succeeded perfectly. He pursues undaunted the path
he had marked out for himself, and his daily struggle to
maintain his power is never apparent, neither does the,(dmirable and persevering energy come to light with which




492 THIRD PI-LSE OF TI-E THIRTY YEARS' WAR
be overcomes all sorts of hindrances, the dexterity whict
enables him to anticipate all the devices of the enemy, or
the boldness with which he makes all around him feel the
power of a great master. He has identified himself with
the State; whoever opposes him opposes the State; in the
name of the common weal he banishes the King's mother
and brother, sends many of his opponents to the scaffold,
and does not spare the highest.
It may be imagined that it was not an amiable rule.
Authoritative measures, espionage, interception of correspondence, executions and imprisonments, were indispensable to it. But in all this his personal interests always
coincided with the demands of the common weal; he was
the State; his ambition was the greatness of France; all
that was French was his interest; all that was opposed to
him was opposed to France. IIe did not pursue his personal enemies as such-he mostly despised them —but woe
to those who brought family interests or factions to bear
against him; on these he inilicted the most severe chastisement. *
A nation does not easily submit to such a rule; but the
French do so more readily than any other. They willingly
sacrifice peace and comfort for splendour, surrender liberty
to a strong government which secures fame and martial
glory. Richelieu conferred outward splendour on France,
and created internal order; but religious and political
liberty had to be confined within the narrowest limits. His
rule was violent and unrelenting; but even his enemies did
not deny that it was able, and therefore it was a turningpoint in history, not only for France but for Europe.
RICHELIEU'S POLITICAL METHOD.
All Europe took to imitating his system, and Louis XIV.
was not the originator, but only the inheritor, of those ideas
of political power and sagacity which, under him, made the
round of European governments.
The principles of, and precepts for, his method of government are laid down in the observations comprised in the
political testament, so called, of Cardinal Richelieu,t and
which were written either by himself or from his dictation.
* For Richelieu's characteristics see Ranke, II. 531.
+ Schmidt, III. 464.




CARDINAL RICHELIEU.                493
The following are some of the most important points.
The most necessary thing for a government to secure is the
unconditional obedience of all-" the most secure foun(dation of the submissiveness which is in(lisp)ensable to the
existence of states."  In order to this it is necessary for the
government itself to possess a resolute will to accomplish
what, after due consideration, it considers to be right, that
it should never falter in its course, and severely punish the
contumacious. The government of the country demands
manly vigour and unswerving firmness, the opposite of that
yielding weakness which exposes the country to danger and
infuses courage into the enemy. Most of the great schemes
of France have failed, because she has been deterred by the
first difficulty from  prosecuting them.  Unswerving consistency, secrecy, and despatch are the best methods of
insuring success. Further, political objects must always, and
in every case, be supreme over every other consideration.
Public interests must be the sole object of the ruler and
his ministers; it is a great evil for the State when private
are preferred to public interests.  The majority of the
misfortunes that have happened to France have been
caused by the devotion of many organs in the administration to their own interests, to the detriment of those of the
State, and by the fact that compassion and favour have
prevented the carrying out of good resolutions.
Punishments and rewards must be adjusted, so as to
keep their end in view. The latter are not to be despised;
but the former are more often necessary, for they are less
easily forgotten. Not to punish an important error, which
might open wide the doors to license, is criminal neglect,
and there is no greater injury to the public good than to be
indulgent towards those who endanger it.
This indulgence has produced an anarchy in France
which has only served the cause of the numerous parties,
and has greatly injured the royal authority. In the case
of political crimes pity must be set aside, and the complaints of the accused, as well as the babble of the ignorant
masses, disregarded; for they often find fault with what is
most salutary for them, and absolutely necessary. It is a
Christian duty to forget personal offences; but to torget
offences against the State, to let them go unpunished, is
not to forgive them, it is to commit them anew. In ordinary
matters justice requires full proof of guilt; but not so in




494 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WVAR.
the case of political crimes; then conjecture, derived from
strong probability, must often suffice, because the formation
of parties against the public good is generally conducted
with so much cunning and secrecy that proof is only possible
when it is too late to punish.
The motto, therefore, is, All for, but nothing by the
people.
The Cardinal asserts the rights of the State in relation
to the Church.
It is the duty of rulers in spiritual matters to be subject to
the Popes as the successors of St. Peter and the vicegerents
of Christ; but they are not to suffer any interference from
them  in temporal affairs.  In making appointments to
bishoprics, abbacies, and smaller benefices, the king should
consider merit, an exemplary life, and uprightness of character. Persons of loose morals should be excluded, and
those who offend must be punished, so as to make examples
of them.
The position of the nobility, one of the main sinews of
the State, requires reform. The nobles must be protected
against the large number of officials who have been raised
up to their disadvantage; but they must be restrained in
their acts of violence towards the people. They must be
protected in the possession of their estates, and the acquisition of new ones must be made easy, that they may regain
their former dignity, and not be incapacitated for serving
the State in war. This last is the main thing; a nobility
which is not ready to render military service to the State is
a luxury, even a burden, to it, and does not deserve the privileges and dignities which distinguish it from the burgher class.
The judges in the parliaments shall pronounce sentence
on the subjects, for that is the purpose for which they are
appointed; but they shall not assume to do more. They
are not to be permitted to interfere in the jurisdiction of the
Church, nor in the enaction of laws. It would be the ruin
of the royal authority if the officials were allowed to have
a voice in political questions, for which they have neither
the necessary knowledge nor power of comprehension.
The people must be kept in a state of subjection. The
taxes serve to hinder them from becoming too prosperous,
and from surpassing the limits of their duty.
The burdens which remind the people of their subjection
should not be too heavy; they should be in proportion




RICHELIEU'S POLITICAL TESTAMiENT.    49 5
to their ability to pay, and it is the duty of rulers not to
exact more than is absolutely necessary. In extraordinary
cases they should lay claim to the superfluity of the rich
before bleeding the poor to an extraordinary degree.
In the matter of instruction and learning great caution is
needful. A knowledge of the sciences is indeed a great
ornament to the State, and cannot be dispensed with; but
it is equally certain that it cannot be imparted to every one
without distinction. As a body having eyes in every part
would be a monster, so would a State possessing only
learned subjects, who would exhibit pride and assumption,
but would not render obedience.
Learning would ruin trade, which enriches the State, and
agriculture, which is the true nourisher of the people; it
would in a short time depopulate the nursery-ground of
soldiers, who flourish far better in ignorance than amidst
the refinements of learning.  Learning itself would be
desecrated by being communicated to all alike; there
would soon be more people to raise doubts than to solve
them, to oppose truth than to defend it. Too large a
number of colleges and classes is an evil.
It will be sufficient in towns which are not capital
cities if the colleges are limited to two or three classes,
which are enough to raise the youth out of too great
ignorance; those who are capable of more must be sent
to the large cities.
It will be seen that this is not so much a new system as
anew method, which aims to effect the absolutism of the
power of the State, while it never loses sight of the interests
of the populace. There is as yet nothing of the Sultanism
to which it degenerated under Louis XIV.; nothing of that
boundless increase of the burdens of the State, the absorption
of the State in the Court, nothing of the blind despotism
which is destructive of the roots of its own existence.
This centralisation of the political power in one hand,
the limitation of the mediaeval corporations, estates, and
privileges; this simplification of the machinery of State,
this provision for equal rights and rational administration,
for sparing and furthering the material prosperity of the
people; this is the absolutism of the seventeenth century,
which we now see exhibited by its first able representative,
and it was a policy which was to be nobly pursued b)
Frederic William, the great Elector.




496 THIRD PHASE OF TIHE THIRTY YEARS~ WAR.
A new sort of administration was now  introduced by
means of paid officials, who gradually displaced the rule of
the nobles and the power of provincial governors; that sort
of centralisation, in short, which, since De Tocqueville's time,
has not been looked upon as a product of 1789, but as a
creation of the ancient regime.  People of the burgher
class, without family interests, and entirely dependent on
the Governieent, became the organs of the State. The
masses felt this to be a great advantage, having learnt that
under the rule of the nobles there was no security of life
or property. For the same reason Richelieu was able to
put an end to the great corporations, or to let them decay
and die out. He was backed by the people, who rejoiced
to see him restrain and punish the arrogance of the great.
What was it to them if now and then one of the highest
nobles was thrown over night into the Bastille or was brought
to the scaffold?
RICHELIEU'S ADMINISTRATION AT HOME AND ABROAD.
His relations with Rome and the Huguenots were peculiar
and thoroughly statesmanlike. He made both parties feel
equally the power of the law and the national interests of
France.
As to his relations with Rome, he was in fact a secular
politician rather than a spiritual ruler, and outwardly he
allied himself with the heretics and took the field against
the Catholics. This was painfully felt at Rome; but the
man was too powerful for them to venture to do anything
against the minister of the most Christian king, though a
half-suppressed sigh might escape them.
Henry IV. had given the Huguenots too much, not
religious, but political liberty, fortresses garrisoned by themselves and great civic privileges. In the recent revolts it
had repeatedly happened that discontented nobles had
appeared at the head of the Protestants, and had turned
the possession of fortresses, like La Rochelle, to good
advantage against the Crown. This was an abuse which
could only be dangerous to Protestantism. Then this republic of a self-governing religious party within a monarchy,
this State within the State, was not to be put up with.
Richelieu did not attempt to abolish the toleration of
different creeds, though it could not fail to suffer if the




RICHELIEU'S POLICY.              497
surest pledges of it were done away; but this political
isolation which so easily led to open rebellion must cease.
Fanatical zeal for conversion was not his forte, but it was
quite in accordance with his principles to deprive the Pro.
testants of their fortresses, garrisons, and self-government;
and the skill with which he prevailed ovei them is peculiar
to him. At first he weakened the position of the Huguenots
in alliance with England, the natural ally of Protestantism,
and employed English ships against La Rochelle; but when
England saw her mistake, and came with a great fleet to
the help of the Protestants, he was strong enough in spite
of this, late in the autumn of I628, to overthrow La
Rochelle. The fall of this great fortress was a catastrophe
for the privileged position of the Reform party, but it did
not result in any powerful reaction against their creed.
There was now neither man nor party in a position to set
Richelieu at defiance. The King was completely under his
influence; the aristocracy were partly intimidated, partly
made harmless; the clergy obeyed him; the Huguenots,
who a few years before shared the King's power, were now
only a sect, no longer a political party.
For an effective foreign policy two things were wanting;
well-ordered finances —always his weak point —and an
efficient army. Neither could be obtained quickly, especially
the latter, with limited means. He therefore proceeded at
first with caution, contented himself with moderate results;
but he was continually negotiating, and ever alert to let
no favourable opportunity slip, and to keep everything in
his power. The chess moves of his foreign policy may be
counted on the fingers. No alliance with Spain, but opposition to the whole house of Hapsburg, for where France
abutted on its Spanish and German possessions, France had
an ancient hankering for the acquisition of territory. In
league with Spain she would have the approval of the
papal party, but that would be all; in conflict with her
there was a prospect of rich booty. The Pyrenees were not
then the real boundary of France; Slain still possessed
Burgundy, and some parts of the South of France, and the
chain of fortresses from the Ardennes to Ostende, by the
possession of which France first became what she now is.
After the course the great German war had taken during
the second decade, the danger did not seem so distant that
Ferdinand and the Spanish Hapsburgs might regain theiz
32




498 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
position. Since the victories of the League, the decline of
the Union, the progress of Tirly, the subjugation of the
revolution in Bohemia and Upper Austria, and the restoration in Central and North Germany, Ferdinand had acquired
a position in and beyond his hereditary dominions, such as
had never been attained by Charles V., and in the ancient
Hapsburg territory between France and Germany, an effective Spanish arrry had appeared under Spinola, which was
renewing the war in the Netherlands, and advancing up the
German Rhine; in short fresh courage and ambition seemed
to have been infused into the power which, at the close of
the sixteenth century, had appeared to be approaching
dissolution, and its increasing success could not be indifferent to a watchful French statesman.
If the genuine French idea were once conceived of keeping down the old Hapsburgian rival, alliances would follow as
a matter of course. England, Holland, Denmark, Sweden,
the German Protestants, all the heretics in the world were
desirable allies to help to oppose Spain.
It had cost Henry IV. his life that he had been a Huguenot, and as a Catholic king pursued a heretical foreign
policy. It was thought that this betrayed the fact that at
heart he was a heretic still. This was a reproach which
could not be cast on a cardinal of the Romish Church, who
kept outwardly within her bounds and had destroyed the
power of the Protestants at home. People did not regard
his religious but only his political motives, and these were
forgiven when there was no help for it.
Richelieu began to make the voice of France heard in
smaller questions, such as in the Valteline and Mantua.
The Valteline was the key between the old Duchy of
Milan, now Lombardy, and the Tyrol, the mountain fortress
of the German Hapsburg territory. The country was of
the greatest strategical importance, and rich in all the
products of a fruitful soil; it was then dependent neither
on Spain nor Hapsburg.  During the time of the fierce
persecution of the Protestants in Italy, after the middle of
the sixteenth century, the Grisons had become a refuge for
the exiled Italians, and on this Roman soil a very strict
form of Calvinism had been established. The Engadine
is still more rigidly Calvinistic than any other country in
the world. The country was dependent on Rhatia, but
was protected in its creed. In July, I6ao, at the instiga




RICHELIEU AND GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.  499
tion of various persons, something like the Sicilian vespers
took place among the Protestants. Horrible deeds were perpetrated; on the northern slopes of the Lake of Como the
castles may still be seen from which the Spaniards attempted
the invasion, and Bibles may still be found in the villages
in which the grandfather inscribed the names of some of the
murdered. After this the Spaniards occupied all the fortresses, and the German Hapsburgs Were well content to
have their Spanish cousins for neighbours.
It was under Richelieu that French policy assumed an
attitude in this -question, at first purely a local onle, that
gave it importance. Richelieu interfered, sent an army into
the Valteline, drove out the foreign troops, and thus prevented the Hapsburg power from possessing itself of this
important Alpine pass.
A similar case occurred in Mantua. There the Spanish
claims were contested by those of a French noble, the Duke
of Nevers. This gave Richelieu the desired pretext for
securing a footing in the neighbourhood of Lombardy.
Himself in armour, he came at the head of an army, drove
the Spaniards before him, and conquered Pignerol and
Chambery-indeed almost the whole of Saxony.  By the
treaty of Chierasco, April, 163I, the French pretender
received Mantua.
These were small matters. He had still to forego great
enterprises, because he had neither fleet nor army. T'hen
Gustavus Adolphus appeared as an ally; he hoped to find
a client in him who would allow him to pursue his French
policy in Germany.  But in this he was altogether mis
taken, for he was, in fact, only permitted to share expenses,
not to advise with him, nor to act conjointly. But with the
death of the Swedish king, this embarrassment was at an
end.  The traditions of the past might still have some
influence with the Swedish generals and statesmen; but
this was an obstacle which could scarcely exist very long
or be insurmountable.*
* For the history of the beginning of French interference in the
German war, the unpublished reports of the embassy supply some
particulars which Hiiusser extracted in Paris (B. R. MSS. FranVais,
No. 2249, suppl.). At the conclusion of a paper on the progress of
the German and Spanish Hapsburgs in I620 this passage occurs: " It
seems to be more than enjoined upon us'de se reveiller d'une si
profonde et fatalle lethargie en laquelle la France est tomb(e par la
disastreuse mort,de notre grand roi Henry.' If now Spain were to




500 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
take it into her head to seek a quarrel with as, and to attrck us in the
rear, as at the time of the League, all paths would be closed to us, and
we should have neither troops nor money fi-om Germany, Switzerland,
or Italy, such as the late king could procure in his necessity,-internal
peace and unity among all Frenchmen, and dutiful obedience to our
just andl good king, and the skilful conduct of affairs by a minister who
would reprendre les sages leions et magnanimes du feu roi et les erres
d'une bonne intelligence avec les plus sinceres amys et anciens allies
de cette couronne' would be the only means of averting the evil." A
dispatch of I620 severely blames the rapacity of Austria, advises an
alliance with the Protestants, and says it is a calumny to call the war a
religious war, the object of which on the Protestant side was to crush
the Catholics. It is said in a report of I626 that the war will not come
to an end until Holland, France, and England are conquered by Spain
and Hapsburg. On December 24th, I619, Bouillon (fol. 183) advises
the king at least to mediate.  A letter from the Emperor to Gustavus
Adolphus,' traduit de l'allemand en franqais,' dated from Ratisbon,
August I8th, I630, is also there, in which the Emperor expresses surprise
at the hostile attitude of Sweden, and demands either a formal declaraii.on of war or a peaceful understanding. Gustavus Adolphus answers
Irom Stralsunld, October 30th, 1630, and expressly reminds him  i
his fmsar eoadu  and his many hostile act.-E




CHAPTER XXXVII,
GERMANY FROM  THE  DEATH  OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS TO
WALLENSTEIN S  CATASTROPHE.   NOVEMBER),  633 —
FEBRUARY, X634.*
Dissensions in the Swedish Camp: Oxenstierna and Bernhard of
Weimar.-Beginning of the French Negotiations: Mlalquis de
Feuquieres.-The Treaty of Heilbronn, April 23rd, I633.Wallenstein's ambiguous conduct of the war in 1633.-Negotiations
with Saxony. The letter of December 26th, i633. —The Bond of
Pilsen, January z12th, 1634,-The murder at Eger, Februaly 25th,
i634.
OXENSTIERNA, BERNHARD OF WEIMAR, FEUQUIERES, AND
THE TREATY  OF HEILBRONN.  APRIL, I633.
USTAVUS ADOLPHUS was general and diplomatist
in one person.  In this the greatness of his character
consisted; and it gave a unity and emphasis to his farseeing and thoughtful policy, of which his opponents, with
their far simpler tasks, could not boast.
On his death this unity between warfare and policy was
at an end. There were two parties in the Swedish camp,
one represented by the Chancellor Oxel Oxenstierna, the
other comprised the greater number of the superior officers
e F5rster, F., Wallenstein's Briefe; Berlin, x628. The same,
Wallenstein als Feldherr u. Staatsman. The same, Wallenstein's
Prozess; Leipzig, 1844. Von Aretin, WVallenstein; Regensburg,
1848.  Dudik, Forschungen, 1853.  The same, Wallenstein von
seiner Enthebung bis zur Uebernahme des Commando's, I858. Helbig,
Wallenstein und Arnim, I850. The same, Kaiser Ferdinand u der
Herzog von Friedland, I852.  The same, Gustav Adolf und dei
Kurfiirst von Sachsen, I854.  Hurter, zur Geschichte WVallensteins,
X855. The same, Wallenstein's vier letzte Lebensjahre, i862.  R6se,
Herzog Bernhard; Weimar, I828. Barthold, F. W., Geschichte des
grossen deutschen Krieges; Stuttgart, 18o2.  Dxoysen, Preussar Politik




502 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
and a host of adventurers, more or less distinguished,
who had attached themselves to the victorious headquarters.
Oxenstierna was the statesman who, always keeping in
view the political objects of the war, urged as speedy a
decision as possible; then an acceptable peace might be
concluded, and he had no interest in advancing the
supremacy of the generals by an aimless continuance of the
war.
They, on the contrary, wished to continue it precisely on
the grounds which made Oxenstierna wish for peace. They
had no wish to lay down their arms, until every one of
them had secured a splendid booty; they were the magnates of the camp, and thought it a singular piece of
assumption to dictate their course to them with the pen.
Among the generals there was but one on Oxenstierna's side;
this was Gustavus Horn, who was related to him, and
was one of the most distinguished pupils of Gustavus
Adolphus.
Besides these, there were inv the camp a multitude of
German princes and rulers whom the war had driven from
their countries and subjects, and who hoped to make their
fortunes in soldier fashion, so long as there was a chance
of it. Many of them had been so ill-used by the house of
Hapsburg that they longed to revenge themselves with the
sword. These younger sons of younger brothers, as Shak-,ipeare says, were continually fomenting war; they had
everything to gain and nothing to lose; for them the- war
would still have an aim, until every one of them had
found a peaceful home again beneath the shadow of some
principality.
Bernhard of Weimar, who was far superior to the others
in abilities, and might be called the leader of the German
war party, was one of these emigrants. The youngest of
seven brothers all living, born August, 1604, he was left an
orphan at thirteen, and brought up by his eldest brother, John,
to the profession of arms, he had grown up as a thorough
soldier of this martial age.  Temperate, free from  the
vices of the age, not highly cultivated, but a sincere Protestant, and an amiable, excellent man, he was indisputably
one of the best elements in this circle. Hle had early
shown talent and aspiring ambition; was the impersonation
oi hatred of the House ot Hapsburg and the Albertinest,




OXENSTIERNA.                 503
and, when the war broke out, he and several of his brothers
took up arms as a matter of course. With his brother
William he entered the service of the chivalrous Margrave
of Baden, in the spring of I622, and took part in the
campaign in the Palatinate and the unfortunate battle of
Wimpfen. After various vicissitudes he made the acquaintance of Gustavus Adolphus, the great leading spirit of the
war, joined him in the campaign in Franconia, on the Rhine
and in the south, in which he greatly distinguished himself.
and to him especially belonged the fame of following up the
victory to the upper Lech and the Tyrolean passes. By
the, time of the unhappy day of Liitzen he was already a
well-known and distinguished general.
He possessed the art of attaching the soldiers to his
person, and had occasionally ventured to oppose Gustavus
Adolphus. The discontent in the German element in the
camp often found a spokesman in him, and this had given
rise to his playing a certain independent part.
After his troops-4,ooo cavalry and 8,ooo infantry-had
unanimously chosen him as leader, he openly demanded a
German principality-such as a duchy in Franconia, consisting of the bishoprics of Wiirzburg, Bamberg, &c.; he
also thought that he should be able to provide for himself
in Alsace and on the Upper Rhine; at all events, he had
very concrete aims in view in his warfare and policy, and
made no secret of them.
This discord explains the fact, that after the victory of
Liitzen, which was decisive in a military point of view,
and perceptibly weakened the Emperor for a long time,
nothing of importance was done by the victors. The strife
between the generals and Oxenstierna was to blame for it.
No agreement of any importance had been arrived at
when France began her negotiations. Richelieu sent his
commissioner, Feuquieres to Germany to see what was to
be done now that the little Gothic King was out of the way.
According to his instructions he was to offer the chief command to Saxony, so as to induce it to unite itself with the
Catholic States against the Emperor, to consult with Oxenstierna, not to conclude any peace without France, and to
maintain the conditions of the Treaty of Barwalde as regarded the Catholics.  Brandenburg and other states of
the empire were to be treated with, the Swedes were to be
won over, the Chancellor especially was to be enticed by




,54 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
the prospect of the marriage of his son with the young
Queen Christina, and, above all, his consent was to be
obtained to the cession of the most important fortresses on
the left shore of the Rhine to France. Various other agents
were at the same time paving the way for French interests
in Germany.
But Oxenstierna was not idle either. Even before authority came from Sweden, nominating him legate of the Crown
in the Roman empire, and with all the armies, he had proceeded to Central and North Germany to promote his
objects-the alliance of the Protestant States with Sweden,
and indemnification for the latter. At Dresden and Beilin
he found the old hesitation and want of decision; he
hoped to find more readiness among the little states of
Upper Germany, whom he summoned to Heilbronn at the
beginning of the year.
Feuquieres came also, after convincing himself that
nothing would come of giving the command to Saxony.
The object now was to prevent Sweden from taking everything in hand alone. He had already received a repulse
from Oxenstierna about the Rhenish fortresses; perhaps he
might be more successful now at Heilbronn, especially as
Saxony and Brandenburg would be opposed to the Swedish
supremacy. In fact, the Protestant States of Upper Germany were not disposed to enter into the close alliance
under lhe leadership of Sweden which Oxenstierna desired,
and this offered an opportunity for the French commissioner
to step in as a mediator.
So, on the 23rd April, I633, the alliance of the Crown
of Sweden with the four upper circles of the empire was
formed by the Treaty of Heilbronn. It was not precisely
in accordance with Richelieu's wishes, for more weight was
conceded to Sweden than he liked; but neither did it
altogether satisfy the Chancellor, for a cojnsilium formalum
was placed at his side, in which ten representatives of the
States of the empire were to watch the Swedish corduct of
the war. Before this a treaty with France had been renewed, essentially on the basis of the Treaty of Birwalde.
By this the French subsidies were secured, while Sweden
still maintained the leadership, and it was only with him,
not with France direct, that the Upper German States had
entered into alliance.
Meanwhile, Bernhard of Weimar, who had taken the corn




BERNHARD OF WEIMAR.                505
mand of the army of Gustavus Adolphus, had, by the end
of January, advanced into Franconia from Thuringia, occupied the bishopric of Bamberg, and proceeded southwards to join Horn in Upper Swabia.  In spite of the
marauding expeditions of John of Werth, the meeting was
effected at Donauwibrth in April.  But here all advance
was at an end, for a mutiny broke out in the army, which
was with difficulty quelled.
Meanwhile, Bernhard caused the princes of the confederation assembled at Heidelberg to grant the Duchy of
Franconia to him, and a month later he received the oath
of allegiance. The chief command of the federal armies
was, however, refused him by Oxenstierna, although, as the
event proved, his nomination would have been the most
suitable. Horn, whose superior he felt himself to be, was
placed over him as field-marshal, and the army was only
pacified by granting its most urgent demands and the
promise of better days.
The military events during this crisis were not of great
importance, and the war only lost its dilatory character at
the end of the year.
Part of the conquests on the Danube had been lost'again
by the rash acts of John of Werth. Bernhard now advanced, crossed the Danube near Neuburg, and suddenly
appeared at Ratisbon, which capitulated in November.
After several months of inactivity, Wallenstein had evacuated Silesia, threatened Brandenburg, and turned again
towards Bohemia, when Bernhard advanced towards the
Austrian territory without opposition from any considerable
foe.
WALLENSTEIN'S CATASTROPHE; THE AMBIGUOUS CAMPAIGN
OF i633; NEGOTIATIONS AND TREACHERY; THE BOND
OF PILSEN; THE ASSASSINATION, FEBRUARY, I634.
As things had been for months in the Swedish camp, it
would have required but little skill and energy on the
Imperial side sorely to punish the enemy for its unprotected
state. But things were no better in the Imperial army; if
the Swedes did little, Wallenstein did nothing.  If the
relatioX6 between Bernhard and Oxenstierna were cool,
those between the Iml)erial generals and the Court of
Vienna were still cooler. And this was mainly the reasot?




506 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
that the war did not take an unfortunate turn for Sweden
in I633.
After the battle of Liitzen, Wallenstein had returned to
Bohemia, and had lain quiet the whole winter. It was
obvious that his army must have suffered severely, and
therefore that the first thing to be done was to re-constitute
it. He also considered that he had reason to be dissatisfied
with his generals, as is proved by the severe sentences of
the court-martials. As to the necessity of a still longer
period of rest for the re-organization of the army, Wallenstein must have been a better judge than they were at
Vienna, who knew nothing of war. Besides this tarriance
in Bohemia, this "natural bastion," although it might occasion some losses in other places, was easily to be justified
on strategic grounds.* But that spring should pass over and
nothing be done, after the winter had been passed in idleness, might well occasion anxiety.
While the population of the hereditary dominions was
almost ruined by the taxes required for the support of Wallenstein's army,-every official, from the judge to the town.
clerk, had to pay ten per cent., there was a tax of Ioo
florins on every doctor's degree, every patent of nobility,
every carriage, sledge, or handsomely harnessed horse-the
Swedes advanced southwards to Ratisbon, and northwards to
Hameln; still nothing was heard of Wallenstein but com.
plaints of arrears of pay, nothing of his army but complaints
of their treatment of the peaceful inhabitants. The general
had shut himself up in unapproachable seclusion at Prague,
and admitted no one but his own confidants to his presence
for weeks.
At length, with the beginning of June, he advanced
against Arnim, who was in Silesia, with a Saxon army at
least equal to his; but instead of a battle taking place, for
which both were prepared, an armistice was concluded.
When this had expired, Arnim drove Wallenstein back
from Schweidnitz, when he again relapsed into inactivity
for weeks. Meanwhile, in July, the imperial troops and
those of the League under Gronsfeld were together defeated
in the north, near Oldendorp, in Hesse; Hameln was taken,
and in August in the south-west a faithful partizan of the
Emperor, the Duke of Lorraine, was overpowered by the
Swedes at Pfaffenhofen and taken prisoner.
0 Droysen




WALLENSTEIN S TACTICS.              50;
Great uneasiness now began.o be felt at Vienna; at
Munich they had been uneasy for a long time. At the
former the disastrous results of the treaty of Znaym were
recognised, at the latter they felt the revenge of mortal
enmity. It is clear that Wallenstein was glad of any pretext for sacrificing the Elector to the enemy. When Wallenstein's only crime was that he had raised an army for
the Emperor which thrust aside the League, and restored
Austria to him, Max of Bavaria had incited the Emperor
against him till he was deposed. This the Duke never
forgave him. Then there were political differences. Wallenstein represented the Emperor's military power, Max the
principalities; Wallenstein hated the priests and their
restoration to power, Max saw no other object in the war
than their victory. Wallenstein beheld the Elector's difficulties with malicious satisfaction, and when through the
Emperor he earnestly begged Wallenstein for help, instead
of giving it he concluded a fresh armistice with Arnim, by
which it was expressly forbidden to give any support on the
Danube, and on every remonstrance he appealed to his
right to make war, conclude truces, and negotiate peace
according to his pleasure.
When the end of the year came, Wallenstein's only
military achievement was that with 20,000 men he had
compelled 5,ooo Swedes, who had ensconced themselves at
Thurn, in Steinau, to capitulate, thereby freeing Silesia from
the enemy.
But this enigmatical mode of warfare was no longer
Wallenstein's only fault. During the course of the spring
and summer of I633 he had caused negotiations to be
entered into, second and third hand, the object of which
could scarcely have only been to divide and deceive the
enemy. Discontented Bohemian noblemen, such as Counts
Terzky and Kinsky, crafty commissioners like Resina, had,
though disclaiming Wallenstein's responsibility, undertaken
various correspondence, in which he  must have had
some participation, for the acts and omissions of his inexplicable plan of warfare are entirely in accordance with
it; and in spite of Fdrster's attempt (in three volumes)
to clear the Duke of suspicion, few persons will conclude
that he was not implicated in these things.
The negotiations themselves certainly admit of a harm.
less explanation. Wallenstein was aware of the discontent




508 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
between Saxony and Sweden. If, therefore, he first put
himself into communication with Saxony, there was nothing
treacherous in that; his object might be to divide the
enemy. Besides, the right of negotiating had undoubtedly
been granted him.
The policy of the Edict of Restitution was not his affair;
he wished for an acceptable peace based on a reconciliation
between the creeds, as did Saxony also, and therefore he
might well enter into an agreement with Arnim. It was
also as much the interest of the Imperialists as of Saxony, to
expel the Swedes by one means or another from German soil.*
Thus these things may be looked at without prejudice to
him on the principle, Quilibet presumitur bonus.
But Wallenstein was not the man to establish an honourable peace which would have served the good cause.
He was not given to truth and openness; he was fond of
mysterious intrigues for their own sake, apart from their
purpose, and he always had the lofty schemes of personal
ambition in view which his astrological researches pointed
out to him as ends to be easily attained. Even had the
peace which he was projecting been an honourable one,
which would better have served the great German cause, for
Max of Bavaria and the Jesuits of the Court of Vienna it
was treason to everything that they held sacred.
Th.ese transactions did not long remain secret.  The
universal dissatisfaction with his mode of carrying on the
war, or rather not carrying it on, gave reason enough for
putting the worst construction upon the rumours that were
flying about, and foes were not wanting at Vienna and
Munich who zealously fomented discontent with him, and
late in the summer of I633 an outbreak could be foreseen.
Wallenstein, therefore, began to consider his plan of retreat
before it should take place.  But the negotiations were
dragging slowly on; Sweden and France had been sounded,
no agreement had been come to with Saxony, for the
unfathomable cunning of the Friedlander excited distrust.
By the end of 1633 the situation of affairs was such that
it was no longer possible to think of honourable negotiations or the danger of probable complications; the compli.
cations were at hand, the danger was present, and the
breach could be calculated on beforehand.
* Compare the expressions attributed to himby Chemnitz, IIo 135
and Khevenhiller, XII. 578, cn the occasion of the armistice of July.




NEGOTIATIONS.                 509
Wlen the idea of real treason or open revolt began to
take possession of Wallenstein's mind, it is impossible to
decide, in spite of all the materials collected and published
by F6rster, Aretin, Dudik, and Helbig. That he did not to
the last entertain any such idea, as F6rster thinks, is consistent only with a very ingenious- interpretation of the
documents.
It is probable, however, that after November and December, I633, Wallenstein was more and more convinced that
his position was untenable, saw that his influence at Vienna
was coming to an end, and that his enemies there would
again succeed in compassing his fall. He did not choose
to be surprised by it; it could but cast him down lower than
before, for he stood higher than even the Emperor himself,
and he would probably not be in a position to retire as a
misunderstood magnate to his estates.
He therefore preferred to come to some agreement with
Sweden, Saxony, and France, which should compel the
Emperor, on the basis of the religious peace and the
amnesty, to lay down his arms, and to acknowledge him
as King of Bohemia, and which should at the same time
enable him to slake his revenge on the Elector of Bavaria.
It was in this spirit that Terzky and Kinsky negotiated,
and during the last few weeks of the year in such a manner
as to frustrate any attempts at justification.
The Elector of Saxony felt the approach of the crisis,
and began to treat more seriously than before, but was
desirous of discovering whether he could trust Wallenstein.
Various negotiations went on in December, which were
intended to clear the ground. There is a -letter of Count
Terzky to Kinsky, under date of December 26th, in which
he says, "that he is to send passes to the Duke Francis
Albert of Saxe-Lauenburg-who was going to and fro
between the camps-to enable him to go to Bohemia, that
they may make terms with him-he was treating in the
name of Saxony-' for the Duke is resolved to enter into an
agreement not only with the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, but also with Sweden and France. We shall not
need the French army, but we shall need their money.
The master will therefore soon come. We are preparing
to unite our armies in fourteen days, and to lay aside the
mask.'"
About this time also the Elector of Saxony sent over hia




5 IO THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WWAR.
personal friend, Colonel Schlieffen, that the above-men.
tioned agreement might be discussed.  The despatches
among the Dresden archives have been made known. The
contents bear the most obvious marks of internal probability. Wallenstein says, among other things, "Spain is
trying to establish a world-wide dominion: that he would
not permit. Neither was the King of France to be permitted to cross the Rhine.  T'he Palatinate must be
restorer, and France settled with somehow.  He would
himself drive the Spaniards from Flanders and Artois.
There would be no great difficulty with Sweden, if she were
indemnified on the North Sea. The Electors and bishops
must have their bishoprics again. To the Duke of Weimar
something in Alsace may be given, or in Bavaria, the'Elector of which,' remarks the ambassador,' the Duke
intends entirely to annihilate."'
A few days afterwards the Elector sent another ambassador, and Wallenstein declared that he had nothing to add
to what had been stated to Colonel Schlieffen.
Wallenstein wished, iA possession of all the forces of the
defenceless Emperor, to extort a peace which would empower him to settle with France and Sweden, to annihilate
Bavaria, and to effect a reconcilation with the Protestants.
There is nothing in the despatch as to what he proposed
for himself.  Bohemia is not mentioned, but it is highly
probable that he had no intention of " leaving this country
to the empire," like the Tyrol, but that he had selected it
as his own price for the peace. But, of course, he would
not say so to the Saxon ambassador.
The object, therefore, was, in defiance of the League and
the Edict of Restitution, to conclude a peace with the
Emperor, which, to a certain extent, coincided with Richelieu's plans, and which might reckon on popularity in
Germany itself.
The distracted nation was thoroughly tired of the war,
which had nte:. ly lost all significance, and this peace would
have a reasonable basis in the restoration of the exiles and
the toleration of Protestantism, which would give Wallenltein the support of hundreds of thousands of Germans.
He certainly would have all the Protestants on his side,
and probably all the Catholics, who were convinced of the
impossibility of carrying out the Edict of Restitution.
But it was decidedly not an imperial policy, and it was




THE BOND OF PILSEN.                 511 
obvious that the Court of Vienna would endeavour to wrest
the army which should protect Atustria from such hands.
But this was no easy matter. The army was so completely in Wallenstein's power that it was doubtful whether
he could be got rid of without inciting it to rebellion. Still,
he had offended many of the generals, and made irreconcilable enemies of them. He was fond of boasting that he
had thrust aside the Spaniards, Italians, and Walloons in
favour of the Germans, so they would soonest fall away. A
number of duels afterwards took place between them and
the Germans, and the Germans have never been persuaded
that the Italians were not his assassins.*
It is some mitigation of the guilt of the horrible deed,
that at Vienna,-itself in the greatest peril,-there was
really no power after the Treaty of Znaym to separate
the man from his army.  The only thing that could be
done was to divide the army, and then employ some subordinate instrument.
About the middle of January, x634, Wallenstein took a
step at Pilsen which proved to the Emperor that the
moment for action was come. The Emperor had desired
him to set apart 6,ooo men for the support of the Cardinal
Infanto of Spain, who was coming to the aid of Hapsblvrg,
and to set out to re-conquer Ratisbon. Wallenstein would
do neither the one nor the other, and secured the like disobedience from the officers.  On the i ith of January they
were summoned to Pilsen. Wallenstein communicated to
them through his confidants, that under such circumstances he should be compelled to lay down the command,
and asked what they, who were enlisted on his credit,
thought of it. The officers begged him to retain it as a
personal favour to them. Twice he declined, but finally
informed them through Illo, that on one condition he would
alter his resolution, namely, that they should swear to hold
by him, and not swerve from their allegiance. To this they
all consented, and then Illo produced the well-known Bond,
in which the following was the chief clause: [f-" Seeing
what distress, misery, and ruin would result to them and
* Hurter in Wallenstein's letzen Lebensjahre, p. 377, calls attention
to the fact that his bitterest enemies, Aldringen, Maradas, Suys,
Hatzfeld, Colloredo, Wangler, were not Italians, and that the most
distinguished among the Italians, Gallas and Piccolomini, remained
faithful to him the longest.
t Authenticated by Aretin. Urkunde, 3i.




51 2 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
their poor soldiers from the Duke's retirement, they earnestly
entreated his highness not to allow any weight to the mo.
tives for it; not to forsake the army without their knowledge and consent, in consideration of which they take an
oath to stand faithfully by your highness; not to forsake
you, to do all that tends to the preservation of yourself and
thie army; to shed our last drop of blood for this cause;
to regard every one who acts inimically to it as a faithless
and perjured person, on whose possessions, person, and
life we are bound to take revenge."  Whether the limitation
clause, "without prejudice to allegiance to the Emperor,"
was used in reading it, we do not know; it is certain that
it was not inserted in the document presented for signature.
It was signed by forty-two persons, and the new oath was
celebrated by a great banquet on the- I2th of January.
Wallenstein continued to write the most affectionate
letters to the Emperor, and received the most affectionate
letters from Vienna. Each tries to deceive the other, for
each feels that the time was come for decisive action.
Information now came from Vienna to the foreign elements
of the army that well-founded suspicions were entertained
against Wallenstein; it was their duty to keep the army for
the Emperor.  Gallas came with an imperial patent, which
released "all honourable officers, cavaliers, and soldiers
from obedience to Wallenstein and his creatures Illo and
Terzky, and placed them under the command of Gallas.
The document was first of all circulated confidentially, and,
when most of the regiments were secured, publicly proclaimed- on the 22nd of February with beating of drums at
Prague.
Wallenstein had been losing precious time in astrology
and scribbling. When the mysterious messages became
more and more urgent and more and more gloomy, he
issued his commands, but they were little or not at all
obeyed, and on the 23rd of February he left Pilsen. On
the evening of the 24th he met the remnant of his faithful
followers, from five to six thousand men, at Eger. In the
evening there was a noisy banquet; when the wine had had
its effect, Butler's dragoons fell upon Kinsky and Terzky,
and cut them down amidst cries of " Long live Ferdinand!"
Soon afterwards, Wallenstein himself, who had just been
again reading the stars with his astrologer, was struck down
in his bedchamber.




ASSASSINATION OF WALLENSTEIN.              513
No definite orders had been given  at Vienna; the
instructions had only beet to secure the Duke, dead or
alive. It appears that the accomplishment of the rightly
interpreted command was intrusted to subordinates, foreign
adventurers, such as Butler and Deveroux. It will never be
known whose hand struck the blow.*'rhe horrible manner in which Wallenstein was slaughtered makes the impression of an execution of the victim
of an abominable intrigue. This was the opinion of
the contemporary world, who compared the tragic end of
the man with his former greatness, and the Court of Vienna
did all it could to support this view, for the murderers
afterwards became inconvenient to it at Vienna. They
were rewarded, and then a justification of the murder was
drawn up, as the most convenient mode of getting rid of
the traitor. The Duke was murdered "because the dead
cannot bite," and the Emperor allowed it all to be put down
to his account. He even afterwards had a sort of official
justification published, entitled, "IPerduellionis chaos," in
which the proofs adduced are so insufficient and so badly
put together that it is impossible to help thinking that the
Court really had no conclusive reasons for it.
That they had no documentary proof against Wallenstein
at Vienna does not prove his innocence; and time has
brought evidence of his guilt to light, and proved that the
Court of Vienna was justified if it was morally convinced
that Wallenstein was in its sense a traitor.
* In one of the archives of the war at Vienna, in a petition to the
King of Hungary, Deveroux is said to have confessed to having been
the man who conducted the halberdiers to Wallenstein's chamber. —
ulmter, p. 437.
33




CHAPTER XXXVII1.
THE WAR FROM THE BATTLE OF NORDLINGEN, 1634, t1
BERNHARD'S DEATH, I639.
Defeat of the Swedish army at NMrdlingen.-Oxenstierna's fruitless
negotiations.-The peace of Prague, I635. —Its significance and
results.-Baner's victories and vicissitudes, I636-7.-Victories and
death of Bernhard of Weimar, I638-9.
THE BATTLE OF N6RDLINGEN; DEFEAT OF THE SWEDISH
ARMY.
-[HESE events explain the inactivity with which the war
- dragged on in i633 and the first half of 1634. The
Swedes were lamed by want of unity amongst their leaders,
the Imperialists by Wallenstein's treachery and catastrophe.
But the second half of I634 brought a change.  The
Imperial leaders, chiefly by the help of the divisions in the
Swedish camp, gained a decisive victory in September, which
caused the misiortunes of i631 and I632 to be forgotten;
and now Richelieu secured the command which for four
years had been persistently refused him. The affairs of
Sweden and Germany are henceforth indissolubly connected
with French policy.
The first half of the new year brought with it no decisive
military events; a certain confusion, which is quite intelligible, had crept into the imperial camp, and that the enemy
did not take better advantage of this was caused by their
own want of unity, particularly by dissensions between
Bernhard and Horn, Oxenstierna's son-in-law. The Imperialists gained some isolated victories in Bavaria, but in
lower Germany they lost Hildesheim; in the south, Philippsburg was obliged to capitulate, and the army of Lorraine
suffered a fresh defeat, which resulted in the expulsion of
the house. The French had not only gained a firm footing




WALLENSTRLN"S ARMY.              515
here, but also on the Rhine, and had taken possession of
some fortresses in Alsace which Andre had conquered. The
French had obviously gained in territory.
Oxenstierna had meanwhile been extremely active. Full
of anxiety on account of Bernhard's efforts to assert his
independence, the growing assumption of the French, and
the ambiguous conduct of the Saxons, on the 6th of February
he convened a meeting of the representatives of the districts
of lower and central Germany, and sought to gain accessions for the League of Heilbronn.  His endeavours were
fruitless, and at Frankfort, where the representatives of
Upper and Lower Germany met in April, it was no better.
Feuquieres had gained adherents in the south partly by
means of money. The votes were not in favour of tfhe
Swedish command. Brandenburg, though not against the
League in itself, became excited when there was a talk of
indemnifying Swedeni by Pomerania, which was quite intelligible; and Saxony openly opposed the League of Heilbronn. - So there was no prospect of success for the Swedish
proposition; but neither did France attain her wishes.
She demanded that Philippsburg should be given up under
a solemn promise to restore it without any other " reward
or indemnity," "que l'honneur de vous avoir assiste avec la
sincdrit6 et gdn6reuse conduite qui accompagnent toutes
les actions royales." The states of Upper Germany were
disposed to accede, but Saxony put a veto on it, and there
it ended. Thus the meeting was fruitless, and presented
the unedifying spectacle of selfish action without unity, or
any more lofty views.  It was unmistakable that the
interests of Swedish and French command were in almost
open hostility.  Meanwhile the imperial army, 25,000
strong, had reached the upper Palatinate.
It is a proof of the excellence of the organization of
Wallenstein's army, that although intended for totally different political objects, it now permitted itself to be employed
in accordance with the Emperor's views, and that it was so
efficient under far inferior leaders. Those who replaced
Wallensteln were not likely to cause his loss to be forgotten.
Neither Gallas nor Ferdinand's son, the King of Rome, an
inexperienced youth, were likely to do so; yet by the end
of six months the army was not only in an efficient state,
but for the first time since I630 gained a decisive victory,
which not only completely changed the aspect of the




516 THIRD PHASE OF TI-E THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
military situation, but produced perceptible political results
during the rest of the war.
After the end of May the imperial army directed its
steps from the Upper Palatinate towards Ratisbon. The
Swedish troops, diminished as they were, were divided into
two armies. Horn was on the Lake of Constance, to prevent the advance of the Cardinal Infanto, who was coming
by tedious marches from Lombardy, and Bernhard was trying to protect Ratisbon. They were on very bad terms;
each cast reproaches on the other, and they did not unite
their troops till the I2th of July. By this time they had
22,000 men assembled near Augsburg; it was too late. They
did indeed take Landshut by storm on the 22nd of July, but
when they slowly advanced thence, Ratisbon had already
fallen, after a brave resistance, on the 26th, and they had to
retreat to Augsburg.  At the same time Baner and the
Saxons in Bohemia were advancing successfully, Hildesheim in nether Saxony had fallen, but the great danger was
that the Cardinal Infanto would join the Imperial army, and
then all South Germany would be lost.
Bernhard and Horn had at first separated, then united
again near Giinzberg; but their armies, consisting of
scarcely io,ooo efficient men, exhausted and famiiished,
were in a pitiful condition. Bernhard wrote to Oxenstierna
that " as the enemy gave him no rest to recover himself,
the chancellor must find another army to meet the enemy."
Meanwhile the imperial army, before the arrival of the
Spaniards, after taking Donauw6rth, had turned towards
N6rdlingen. In order to save Wiirtemberg, Bernhard and
Horn crossed the Danube near Leipheim and Giinzberg,
encamped themselves securely near Bopfingen, and sent
reinforcements to N6rdlingen; but they could not prevent
the enemy's cavalry from devastating Franconia and Swabia.
The situation of the Swedes appeared so hopeless that, on
the 26th of August, Oxenstierna signed a treaty with Feu.
quieres by which Philippsburg was given over to the French,
to be garrisoned by French and German troops as a pledge
to be restored in time of peace. Even with the promist 1
French help, there was but small prospect of success, for
the Cardinal Infanto had brought from twelve to fifteen
thousand men to his cousin, and the imperial army, con.
sisting of Spaniards, Italians, Germans, &c., was standing
thirty thousand strong before N6rdlingen.




BATTLE OF NORDLINGEN.               517
The troops of Bernhard and Horn did not amount to
more than 24,000 men. Bernhard advised to give battle,
Horn to wait for the reinforcements. On the 5th of September they approached the town, and by a successful
surprise of the enemy obtained a good position; but all
attempts on the 6th to drive the effemy from theirs were in
vain. The loss was so great and the prospect of success so
small, that about noon Bernhard advised to discontinue the
battle; but the enemy divined their purpose, and pursued
them so hotly that the retreat became a desperate flight.
Bernhard escaped with difficulty in the tumult, and Horn
was taken prisoner. The loss was reckoned at I2,000
dead and 6,ooo prisoners.  The might of the army of
Gustavus Adolphus was destroyed.   Swabia was now
defenceless; the Duke of Wurtemberg and his troops fled;
Bernhard attempted to dam the stream, but it was no longer
possible. By the middle of September the wild hordes of
cavalry rushed on, took G6ppingen and Heilbronn, and
made sad havoc in Waiblingen, the vale of Weinsberg, and
all unprotected places. Thus the supremacy of the Imperial
arms was established for three years and a half, and an
ardent desire of Richelieu fulfilled.
Sweden's political position experienced the same fate as
her military force.  The meeting at Frankfort broke up
abruptly. Oxenstierna tried in vain to infuse some courage
into the leaders, and to induce them to collect their scattered
forces and to unite with the troops from Bohemia.
The troops sent from the north to join the remnant of
Bernhard's army at Frankfort were an undisciplined set, a
scourge to the population, a torment to the officers, and
little adapted to promote success.  Baner, however, in
Bohemia, did not go southwards but northwards, in order
at all events to maintain that part of Germany. Even
Oxenstierna now urgently solicited French help.  In October, two commissioners, Liffler and Streiff, were sent
to Paris, in order to settle with France, even, as their instructions expressly stated, at the price of the cession of
Alsace.
Meanwhile, before the end of the year, nearly all Franconia was occupied by the Imperialists, and all the country as
far as Swabia and the Upper Rhine was the scene of horrible
barbarities. Calw, in Wiirtemberg, was almost annihilated.
On the 7th of October Philippsburg was given up to the




518 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
French, and a few days later the dying Count Otto Ludwig
ceded to them the fortresses in Upper Alsace.
Meanwhile, L6ffler and Streiff arrived at Paris. Richelieu
was well pleased to make considerable conquests without
sacrifice or war, and was not disposed to leave this pleasant
path without occasion. The offers of the German ambassadors had meanwhile been forestalled by the course of
events, and this they were disdainfully made to feel at
Paris. There was no inclination to give either pecuniary or
military aid; so on the ist of November they were compelled to agree to an ignominious treaty which only gave
conditional promise of French help, but definitely ceded
important pledges to France. In return for a place in the
sittings of the Confederation, participation in the conduct
of the war, the fortresses and Alsace, nothing was granted
but an engagement to support 2,00oo men, either Germans
or troops of some other nation, to be commanded by a
prince belonging to the German Confederation, and a
payment once for all of 500,000 livres.
At Worms, where a number of the States of the Empire
had assembled around Oxenstierna, they were willing to
agree to it, being utterly powerless, and having nothing more
to lose. But Oxenstierna would not sign, and sent Hugo
Grotius to Paris to negotiate on some other basis. Meanwhile Heidelberg, which had been so repeatedly threatened,
was relieved with the aid of the French troops who were
summoned across the Rhine, and thus for the first time
French arms were openly employed against the Emperor.
Up to this time a secret game had been played; France had
been carrying on war without declaring it.
THE PEACE OF PRAGUE, 30TH OF MAY, x635.
The defeat at Ndrdlingen had thrust down the Swedish
army and policy from the commanding position which
Gustavus Adolphus had acquired for them; the army, not
only because it had for the first time lost a great battle after
being considered, and having really been for four years
invincible, but still more because the original character of
the army, already greatly changed, was now entirely lost.
Some gaps had been made in the old Swedish army with
its national and religious stamp, even under Gustavus
Adolphus, but they were well filled up with material which,




THE PEACE OF PRAGUE.              519
though serviceable in a military point of view, had considerably changed the character of the army. After this
great defeat they could not afford to be nice in the choice
of material, and had to put up with a homeless rabble of
fugitives and deserters, whose lawlessness soon made the
Swedish army equal to, if not worse than, others in wickedness. Even the first corps which Oxenstierna collected at
Frankfort in order, in case of need, to oppose the advancing
Imperialists, showed what miserable creatures they were
getting together. To keep them from open mutiny he had
to extort Ioo,ooo florins from the free city, and, to rid it of
their wild doings, Bernhard was obliged to lead them across
the Rhine, their track being everywhere marked by boundless excesses.
The Swedish policy in the German war did not recover
from the defeat at Nirdlingen. Sweden immediately lost
her most important allies in the camp of the German
princes. At a time of great distress, when both enemies
were already in the country, Saxony had been pressed into
alliance with Sweden; but the Saxon court, full of mistrust
of Gustavus Adolphus, had constantly chafed against the
alliance, and only joined in the war by halves for the sake of
appearances. When his military successes were at their
height, Gustavus Adolphus had left the march through
Bohemia to Vienna to the Saxons, because he wished to
compel them to open enmity with the Emperor, and feared,
in case of non-success on his part, to see them immediately
rejoin the Hapsburg party. If this was the position of
affairs when the Swedish arms were at the height of their
fame and under the impression of the victory of Breitenfeld, it was clear that now, after the defeat of Ndrdlingen,
nothing would outweigh the imperial influence in Saxony.
The 6th of September was the signal for a treaty between
the Saxon Court and the Emperor.  It also involved a
change in the relations between Sweden and France.
Richelieu had laboured unceasingly to gain an influence
in the German difficulties; Gustavus Adolphus had accepted
his subsidies, but absolutely forbidden any interference with
his plans. After the King's death, Oxenstierna had hoped
to keep the French co-operation within the same limits, and
to a certain extent he succeeded. But after the defeat of
N6rdlingen all this was changed. Richelieu was no longer
i burdensome interloper to be outwitted, but a desired ally




520 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
for a little help from  whom, great sacrifices must be
made.
In short, the battle destroyed the Swedish army, ripened
the long-cherished ideas of the two North German Electors
of entering into separate treaties with the Emperor, and
brought about a closer approach between Sweden and
France, in that they now assumed the conduct of the
German war on terms of equality.
Meanwhile, the military events of the first part of I6,35
showed the superiority of the imperial and the inefficiency
of the Swedish-French arms. In January the Imperialists
took Philippsburg from the French by a successful surprise;
John of Werth also succeeded in surprising Spire; and in
March the Spaniards took Treves, and carried off the Elector
as a prisoner.
These misfortunes, however, only disturbed Richelieu's
diplomacy on the surface; he quietly pursued his way. It
was his perpetual aim  to deprive the Swedes of the command, to form a French party among the German princes,
and by means of subsidies to attach the Duke of Weimar to
his interests. The progress of Spain finally led in this case
also, to a breach in this unnatural alliance.
On the 8th of February, Richelieu had concluded a
treaty with Holland against Spain, and in May followed the
declaration of war.
A few days after, the Peace of Prague * between Saxony
and the Emperor was signed; the conditions had been
previously discussed on the 24th of November at Pirna.
The affair did not do much honour to the diplomacy of
Electoral Saxony. At first the Elector made large demands,
and then allowed himself to be miserably intimidated at
Pirna. He then held fast to the Pirna preliminaries in a
lump, and disregarded all the remonstrances of the Protestants; but when the Imperialists proposed a number of
alterations he immediately agreed to them.
From the narrow-minded Lutheranism which prevailed
at this court, no religious peace could be expected which
would include the Reformed party.  The opinions held
here were those of the court theologian, Hohenegg, who
said, "For it is as plain as that the sun shines at midc
day, that the Calvinistic doctrine is full of frightful blas
Helbig, der Prager Friede. Compare with Romme1l Gesch.,
lessen, viii. 366. Droysen, iii. 132, with Barthold.




THE PEACE OF PRAGUE.                 521
phemy, horrible error and mischief, and is diametrically
opposed to God's holy revealed word. To take up arms
for the Calvinists is nothing else than to serve under the
originator of Calvinism-the devil. We ought, indeed, to
give our lives for our brethren; but the Calvinists are not
our brethren in Christ; to support them would be to offer
ourselves and our children to Moloch. We ought to love
our enemies, but the Calvinists are not our enemies, but
God's."
The Treaty of Passau and the religious peace of Augsburg were, in a general way, confirmed; but all who did
not accept the treaty were excluded, and the subjects of
Austria, the inhabitants of the Palatinate, and the members
of the council of the confederation) were excepted from
the amnesty.  The amnesty itself, like everything that
concerned ecclesiastical affairs and the fate of the bishoprics, was full of side-doors and purposely designed loopholes, so that a Jesuit of Cologne could write to a fellow of
his order who was uneasy about it, "The Elector will
lose his reputation by the treaty, and the allies will be
divided by taking the bait; everything will be well guarded
by clauses, and the concessions will only be apparent.
(' Latet ubique anguis in herba, nihil concessum, nihil conclusum, quod a nostris non fuerit ponderatum et in recessu
aliquid habeat.') "
A subversion of the imperial constitution, also, was involved in the Treaty of Prague. All unions and alliances
were by it declared to be at an end, except the electoral
union, the hereditary unions of the house of Austria and
the hereditary fraternity between Saxony, Hesse, and Brandenburg; the ancient right, therefore, of the princes to
conclude treaties was abolished.  To this was added the
regulation, that for the future there should be only one
army in the empire, to be headed by the Emperor, not only
as the chief, but sole commander.  Finally, it was decreed
thet the Duke of Lorraine should be re-instated, which
meant that Saxony, who desired peace at the sacrifice of all
her allies, should be involved in a war with France, and
that in the interests of Austria.
Brandenburg, which, after long vacillation, finally submitted to the Emperor, soon experienced what was meant
by the imperial military supremacy. The Elector was no
longer master of his own country; his own officers,- under




522 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAIRL
oath to the Emperor as well as to himself, established an
anarchical military rule of the worst kind.
One thing, however, was noteworthy in this peace. The
Emperor, Ferdinand II., in all essential points, with
very little exception, gave up the Edict of Restitution for
Saxony and Brandenburg.  Not that this was brought
about by the treaty, but it was the first evidence that the
Emperor no longer expected to carry out this ordinance.
It required thirteen years more of fearful warfare to prove
that it must be given up for the other German states also.
The idea of putting an end, in one way or another, to
this unholy war must certainly have been attractive at this
doleful period.  But the Treaty of Prague held out no
prospect of it either to the empire or for the states, who
thought they had at least taken good care of themselves.
A time of fearful suffering now began for Saxony and
Brandenburg; both countries were the victims of a refined brutality; the Imperialists treated them like hostile
countries, and the Swedes with the malicious vengeance
which is the portion of renegades. The condition into
which the countries of North Germany were brought by the
peace was a fearful satire upon it.
WEIMAR IN FRENCH PAY.-BANER'S VICTORIES AND
VICISSITUDES. I636-7.
Before the end of 1635 a favourable turn took place for
the Swedish arms.
In the western seat of war Duke Bernhard was fighting
with decided ill success. The Imperialists were making
unhindered progress on the Rhine and in Alsace, when at
length the French appeared in the field with a second
army.  It consisted of i5,oco men, commanded by the
Cardinal de la Valette, youngest son of' the Duke of Epernon, and it comprised the flower of the French nobility.
That military training now began for them which afterwards
produced heroes.  Turenne, Guiche, Guebriant, were in
this army.  But Bernhard had sufficiently painful experience that this corps had not got beyond the very elements
of military training. La Valette's delays sent him nearly
out of his mind, and, before he came, Kaisersliutern was
lost, and the Imperialists gained a firm footing on the left
shore of the Rhine. They met at last, and again advanced




WEIMAR AND FRANCE.                523
through the Palatinate, and occupied Kreuznach. While
the Cardinal besieged Bingen, Mayence was relieved, but
in August, Frankfort was lost. Bernhard now urged La
Valette to cross to the right bank of the Rhine, and he was
willing to do so, but the Swiss and the French cavaliers
in the army opposed it.  They were only silenced by
threats that the mutineers would be cut down, and by the
assurance that William of Hesse was on the other side. So
they crossed; but the Landgrave did not come, and both
armies were in a very critical situation. The French, who
lay before Hochstein, suffered from want and sickness, and
mutiny was rife in Bernhard's German regiments. Hard
pressed by the enemy, amidst some feats of arms, but on
the whole with great losses, Bernhard made the brilliant
retreat to the Saar which won admiration even from the
enemy. The Cardinal would not cross the Rhine again,
but extolled the excellent military discipline they had
passed through, and the warlike merits of the Germans.
His soldiers sang a satirical song about him, with the
refrain-'Oi est le duc de Vimar?'
which the Cardinal had always been exclaiming when in
difficulties.
In the north, Oxenstierna, who had not been able to
accomplish anything at Paris, tried to gather the scattered
elements together, but could not succeed in keeping the
Duke of Liineburg on his side, nor in coming to any terms
with Saxony. Baner's army consisted of 26,ooo00 men, and
was in good condition; but as they were almost all Germans, the Swedes did not altogether rely upon them. The
E.lector of Saxony was continually trying to induce the
colonels to make peace with the Emperor, and rudely
broke off the negotiations with Oxenstierna, by saying he
would send his decision to him at Stralsund.
Half in despair, Oxenstierna retreated to Wismar, and
3eft it to Baner, who was in perpetual difficulties, from the,defections of the German princes and of his own troops, to
hold the middle and lower Elbe until he should succeed in
bringing reinforcements to the seat of war, and in forming a
new army on the sea-coast.
Meanwhile the Saxons set out to divide the Swedish
troops on the Elbe. They proceeded down the river; and




524 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.,
the vanguard of the Swedes, which was weak, yielded; but
on the Ist of November an engagement took place at DI)mitz,
in which the Saxons were beaten. This was the beginning
of returning success to the Swedes; it infused courage into
their depressed allies; the hard-pressed Landgrave of Hesse,
especially, gained breathing time, since the imperial army
was compelled by this defeat to move towards the north.
Before this an important diplomatic event had taken
place, which had a decisive influence on the course of
events-the peace negotiations with Poland. It was perfectly clear that war could not be carried on in Germany
and in Poland at the same time. But which was to be
given up? There was a strong feeling in Sweden for the
war with Poland, while Richelieu made every effort to put
an end to it, that the Swedes might be at liberty for the
war in Germany. With this object, Count d'Avaux was
sent to Poland. On the other hand, it was the policy of
the Pope and of the Hapsburgs to keep on the war in
Poland. At the end of May the negotiations began at
Ruhmsdorf, near Marienburg. After much vicissitude and
vacillation, and having been more than once threatened by
fresh conflicts, they were successfully terminated on the
12th of September, chiefly through D'Avaux's diplomatic
energy and virtuosoship. The treaty was honourable and
advantageous to the Swedes, and set their armies under
Wrangel and Torstenson at liberty for Germany.
The results soon appeared.  Baner, united with Tors.
tenson in Mecklenburg, gained several decided advantages.
From the 7th to the I7th of September Torstenson defeated the Saxons near Kiritz, and after having boasted
that they would drive the Swedes across the sea, they sued
ignominiously for a truce. This produced a reaction in the
south-west; William of Hesse again stood firmly by the
Swedes.
Towards the end of November, Gallas had to commence
a disastrous retreat from Lorraine, and to confine himself
to petty warfare. Nevertheless, in November, Mayence,
after having been held for four years by the Swedes, was
ceded again by capitulation. The Rhine district was then
invaded by wild foreign visitors, the Cossacks and Hussars;
and the distress in the whole western part of the empire
fearfully increased.
Richelieu, who had gained an important diplomatie




RICHELIEU AND BERNHARD OF WEIMAR. 52 
victory by means of D'Avaux, was not satisfied with the
way in which the war was carried on. This is shown by the
severe punishments which he ordained, and still more plainly
by the decided connection into which he now entered with
Bernhard of Weimar. In the summer, on discussing the
subject with La Valette and other French generals, he had
convinced himself that nothing was to be done without the
Duke. In July he had conjured La Valette to neglect
nothing which was calculated to secure the Duke for the
interests of France. If Alsace failed, he should be provided for in Lorraine; should that fail too, France would
take care of him.
On the 27th of October a formal treaty was entered
into at St. Germain between France and Weimar. * He
was to maintain an army of i8,ooo Germans for an
annual grant of 4,ooo,o.o livres, of which 200,ooo were
to be allotted for the Duke's income.  Besides this,
the Landgraviate of Alsace and the prefecture of Hag'nau,
with all the rights of the House of Austria, were to be
made over to him, with one condition only, that the
Catholic religion should be upheld. For this territory compensation was to be made in time of peace. The Duke
was to place his army under the King of France, and to
promise to lead it wherever he should desire.
The Duke did not conceal from himself the importance
of this treaty, and took special care not to disturb the
opinion of his troops that he was in the field only as an
independent ally of France; but he wanted the French, and
trusted that he should be able to abide by the treaty without
forfeiting his independence. He went through various pairn.
ful experiences on his way to Paris, but maintained a
princely bearing at the Court, where they tried to allure him
by banquets and beautiful women. In the subsequent conduct of the war he successfully imitated his model, Gustavus Adolphus, and was in fact much more independent than
might have been expected from the conditions of the treaty.
He was his own master, but carried on the war with French
mnoney.
The time had now arrived when the remnant of the
Swedish army regained its importance. Saxony and Bran.
denburg were once more drawn into the war, and were fear
Uilly chastised for the separate treaties they had made.
RMose, ii 467-469,. 4,'



326 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARSP  WAR.
The most able man whom Sweden now possessed was
Baner. He was a thorough soldier, steeled and hardened
in all weathers, and exhibited a certain blustering indifference
to death and danger. He was an active and skilful general,
and was the first of the successors of Gustavus under whom
thee Swedish arms achieved victory again; but he was also
a complete representative of this later period of the war,
for he carried it on without any lofty aims, solely as a
b)usiress which brought with it gain, enjoyment, and revelry.
He gave himself up to pleasure and excess like the soldiers
under his command, was a wild, lawless fellow, a creature of
the army and the age; but he possessed the military ability
of a generation who knew peace only by name, and who
had grown up amidst the rough gales of fearful conflicts.
But the war had assumed a character at which even
Baner sometimes shuddered.  He once said of his own
soldiers that it would be no marvel if the earth opened and
swallowed up such shameless wantons.
It was he who brought the scourge of this war into un.
fortunate electoral Saxony.  He had first invaded the
country in January and February, I636, but not being strong
enough to advance further, he had retreated to a post of
observation in a camp near Werben. While he was lying
still here, and, as far as it was possible in his painful pecuniary embarrassments, obtaining reinforcements with French
money, the imperial troops under Peter Gbtz were devastating Lower Hesse and part of Westphalia.  Eighteen
towns and three hundred villages were ruined, forty-seven
castles burnt, and one-third of the population disappeared,
and John of Werth, with his hordes of cavalry, was terrifying the neighbourhood of Paris. " Jean de Werth" threw
the capital of France into a panic of fear, and the people
were preparing for the horrors of a visit from these dreaded
horsemen. Richelieu alone, on whose head imprecations
were called down, maintained a manly attitude, and with
imposing calmness faced the furious mob. It was shown
once more what the French were as a nation; they readily
furnished money and troops when necessity required. When
a large army was equipped the panic subsided, and the
enemy would not have been able long to remain on French
soil if want of skill in the command, dissensions, and
political intrigues had not lamed the defensive efforts of the
peoplw




JOHN OF WERTH.                 527
They were, however, at length relieved by the fi-rst great
victory which Baner meanwhile had gained in the north.
At the end of September he had again advanced against
the Saxons, and overtaken the Elector and Hatzfeld near
Wittstock. On the 4th of October a sanguinary and longdoubtful struggle took place, which, however, ended in the
retreat of the Saxons and Imperialists. Six thousand dead
and the baggage and artillery of the Elector were left on the
field of battle. The results, if not to be compared with
those of the victory of N6rdlingen, were sufficiently important. They inspired fresh hopes into Austria's enemies;
Saxony's defection recoiled with a heavy weight upon the
instigators of it; France was relieved; Denmark remained
quiet; and those who had lately gone over, such as George
of Liineburg, were placed in a,most painful situation.
In November, Baner proLeeded southwards towardt
Saxony and Thuringia, and made inroads as far as Hesse,
These unfortunate countries suffered fearful devastation
from both friends and foes. In December, he again turned
towards electoral Saxony, subdued Erfurt, and then advanced
by way of Naumburg to Meissen, in order to intercept the
meeting of John George of Saxony with the troops of
Brandenburg.
At this time, the a2nd of December, 1636, the son of the
Emperor Ferdinand II. was elected King of Rome. It
had been attempted unsuccessfully before, and was not
now accomplished without opposition — the Eijctor of
Treves was in prison, of the Palatinate in exile, the Elector
of Bavaria not generally acknowledged-but just then it was
an important success for the imperial cause. On the 15th
of February of the following year Ferdinand II. died.
The year I637 brought increasing success to the Imperialists, so that they were able to project the expulsion
of the Swedes from German soil. But then they should
not have displaced competent leaders like John of Werth,
and have put a man like Gallas at their head, who often
forgot his duty in the pleasures of a luxurious camp-life.
Electoral Brandenburg now zealously took part in the
war.  George William  entered into a treaty with tfl
Emperor at Prague, in which he agreed to raise an army
of 7,ooo men in Brandenburg and Pomerania, which was to
swear fealty both to the Elector and the Emperor.
Meanwhile, Baner had been shut in at Torgau by a force




528 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
at least dot ble his own, and he was obliged to be on the
alert lest he and his troops should be lost. He resolved to
retire to the coast and maintain his position in Pomerania.
There was a dexterous rumour that he would appear before
Erfurt, and a detachment of the imperial army was therefore
kept on the left shore. Baner then crossed the Elster near
Herzberg, and, proceeding by way of Luckau and Liibben,
reached the Oder near Fiirstenberg, and crossed it in shallow
places. But as -he was proceeding to Landsberg on the
Warthe, he was p:rsued by the Imperialists by way of
Jiiterbogk, Baruth, and Kiistrin, and on the 4th of July
they were before Landsberg, while Wrangel, who was to
advance from Pomerania to meet Baner, had only reached
Schwedt. Once again Baner deceived the enemy. Pretend.
ing that he was going through Poland, he returned to the
Oder, waded through the shallow stream opposite G6ritz,
and on the I3th of July joined Wrangel's vanguard. The
forces of both the-n retreated to Stettin.
VICTORIES AND DEATH OF BERNHARD OF WZIMALR
I638-9.
Neither the armies nor the generals who had been carrying on the war in Germany for the last four years showed a
trace of its original object, either in their character or proceedi.ngs; on all sides there was the same degeneracy, the
same lawless doings of homeless soldiers, who only cared
to live through a few merry years amidst the universal
misery. Among the common soldiers this was indicated by
incredible bestiality; by their leaders in the same manner,
though in a less degree. Every sentiment of patriotism,
faith, justice, and morality had utterly perished in this
vortex of unbridled passions. Richelieu's tenacious diplomacy and Austria's blind zeal for conversion are almost
the only remaining symptoms of a conscious purpose.
Under such circumstances Bernhard of Weimar attained
a renown which would not otherwise have been his portion.
He was the most gifted of all the princely adventurers
who were hoping to gain a principality in this game of
chance-the only one among the generals who had not
degeneratedi into a homeless hireling. In Germany they
forgot that he was a French field-marshal, for he not only,
in spite of the Treaty of St. Germain, had maintained a




BERNHARD OF WtEIMAR.               529
certain independence towards the French, but raised a
German army to make himself independent both of the
French and the Swedes. He took advantage of the rivalry
between the Germans, the Swedes, and the French, and
appeared everywhere as the champion of Protestant Germany  To add to this now, there were his brilliant military
achievements, which put even those of Baner into the
shade, and seemed to bring back the days of Gustavus
Adolphus. Up to this time the jealousy of the Swedes
had not allowed him to develop his talents to the full; he
nad always been placed in the second rank, but now he
acted independently, and with a skill like that of Wallenstein, he created an army of his own, and it could not be
denied that it bore that decided stamp which German troops,
German officers, and German military skill conferred on avr
army. In a surprisingly short time he had a splendid force
in the field, and after the beginning of I638 accomplished
feats which placed him among the ranks of the first general:
of his time.
The Treaty of St. Germain had not been fully carried out
by the French. Months had passed in vexatious negotia
tions about the bare performance of their engagements. At
length, in April, I637, an agreement had been come to.
Bernhard only received two million and a half of livres,
and only xo,ooo men, instead of the 2o,ooo he had hoped
for. Then, to please Richelieu, he was obliged to agree
to defend Lorraine, and several weeks passed before
pressing pecuniary difficulties permitted the expedition to
begin. Nothing decisive could take place in that year,
and it was with difficulty that Bernhard obtained leave,
after some progress had been made, to cross the Rhine, and
come to Baner's relief.
The Rhine was crossed at the end of July; the first
attacks of John of Werth were successfully repulsed, but it
was not possible to maintain the right bank without reinforcements, in face of the increasing forces of the enemy,
11i October, Bernhard commenced a retreat, and spent the
winter months in the bishopric of Basle, continually nego.
tiating with the Court at Paris, who at length agreed, in
February, to pay the arrears of 2,400,000 livres for the new
year; but instead of the 8,ooo men whom Bernhard de.
manded, he only received an indefinite promise of a con
siderable force on the left shore of the Rhine.
34




530 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
But before Bernhard received this intelligence lie had
taken decisive action on his own account. Relying upon
the Imperialists being dispersed in their winter quarters,
and the discord among the generals, on the 27th of January
he set out in profound secrecy from near Delsberg; on the
29th suddenly invaded the Frickthal; on the 3oth crossed
the Rhine in fishing-boats, surprised Sackingen and Laufenburg, destroyed a hostile regiment; on the ist of February
took Beuggen and Waldshut, and the next day appeared
before Rheinfelden, and besieged it with great vigour.
The Imperialists, in their scattered cantonments, now
began to bestir themselves; the peasants of Schwarzwald
were called upon, and, just when Rheinfelden was reduced
to extremity, Savelli and Werth came to the relief of the
country round Beuggen. An engagement took place near
Rheinfelden, where the Imperialists, after a hot and disastrous combat on both sides, succeeded in getting help and
provisions into the town, and compelled Bernhard to raise
the siege.
But owing to the want of system in the imperial army and
the dissensions and confusion at head-quarters, this success
was not turned to advantage, and Bernhard formed the bold
resolution of at once attacking the careless enemy. In the
early morning of the 3rd of March he again appeared before
Beuggen. The Imperialists now suffered a complete defeat;
the army was dispersed in wild disorder, and the surviving
generals, among them John of Werth, were taken prisoners.
A few days afterwards a treaty was signed between France
and Sweden at Hamburg, by which they made common
cause; subsidies from France were stipulated for, for the past
and the future, and it was agreed that peace negotiations
should only be undertaken in common.
As a result of the victory of Rheinfelden, the town, the
neighbouring fortresses, and soon Freiburg, also fell into
Bernhard's hands, and his troops extended themselves over
Swabia; only Breifach offered an obstacle on the Upper
Rhine.
Meanwhile the Imperialists sent reinforcements to the
new commander, G6tz; but their warfare was wanting in
unity and spirit. After sundry skirmishes, Bernhard attacked
them at the beginning of August in the Ortenau. He advanced by way of Kenzingen, Mahlberg, and Lahr, towards
chauttern, and secured the bridges near Dinglingen and




BERNHARD OF WEIMAR.                531
Friesenheim. Gbtz took up a good position neai, Wlhen,
on the morning of the 9th of August, the vanguard set out
for Breifach, Bernhard began his attack. Although taken
by surprise, the Imperialists and Bavarians, near Wittenweyer, fought with great obstinacy, and were only beaten
after a long and changeful contest. Three thousand men,
artillery, trophies, and the provisions intended for Breifach,
as well as camp and baggage, fell into the hands of the
victors. By the middle of August Bernhard again stood
before Breifach.
This change in the south reacted upon the northern
theatre of war, for the imperial forces there were diminished.
Baner once more gained ground in Pomerania, and the
change was felt in Hesse. But Bernhard's victory would
have been followed by greater results if the French had
given him substantial help, instead of fair speeches only.
He complained bitterly of the non-fulfilment of their
promises, and predicted the loss of the advantages gained,
and his own defeat. Nevertheless, the repeated attempts of
the imperial party to gain him over were entirely unheeded.
The siege of Breifach was now begun in earnest; but the
promised help from France either did not come at all or
was ineffective when it did.
From a sick-bed at Colmar, Bernhard did all that it was
possible for man to do to frustrate all attempts to make
peace until he should receive succour and supplies. On
the i5th of October the Duke of Lorraine was beaten at
Tann. On the 24th there was a long and doubtful contest
in the lines about Breifach; but Bernhard, who was still ill,
was carried out of his tent, and was this time powerfully aided
by Guebriant and Turenne, finally carried the day, after his
assaults had been seven times repulsed.
On the Ist of November, Lorraine was a second time
defeated, and the last outworks of the fortress were lost,
though everything was done on the imperial side to save
them. G6tz was recalled, doubts having arisen about his
loyalty, and he was subjected to a tedious trial; but his
sluccessor was not able to do more than lead his exhausted
troops back through the Schwarzwald; and how different
even then might have been the result if Bernhard had been
efficiently supported by the French, instead of having to
spend weeks and months in begging for every two or three
thousand men.




532 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAIR.
Reduced to extremities, and without hope of succour,
on the 17th of December, Breifach capitulated. The Duke
at once established himself comfortably in this fresh acquisition, and filled his French allies with alarm about the
formation of this new principality.  A glance at the French.
mode of warfare, as compared with the annihilating blows
dealt by Weimar, must have relieved as well as shamed
them. Richelieu was right in exclaiming, on receiving the
latest news of victory, " We have no Duke of Weimar 1 "
In the north and east, also, the Imperialists had lost
their favourable position; Baner was again master in Pomerania and Mecklenburg, and could entertain the idea of
joining Bernhard's operations.
Bernhard's feats had a wonderfully inspiriting effect in
Protestant Germany. In the course of a few months he
had been victorious in a number of engagements, taken
fortresses thought to be impregnable, sometimes on the first
assault, and within one half year he had restored the supre-.macy of the Protestant arms in South-west Germany-even
in districts which, since I634, had been sacrificed to jealous
reaction. He now restored to the oppressed Protestants an
independent existence, drove the Imperialists back to
Bavaria,. and achieved moral successes which had been
granted to no one since Gustavus Adolphus.
It was this that gave the Duke of Weimar so peculiar a
position at this period. The archives do not exhibit him
in the most favourable light, but his deeds were dazzling;
Richelieu was practically nobody in comparison with him.
The army recognised no one but him, and his victories were
the greatest exploits of the last six or eight years.
But those short episodes were brilliant meteors, speedily
to be extinguished; and it indicates the hopeless state of
German affairs, that the day came when the death of Bernhard, the French field-marshal, was a sort of national misfortune. He was the last who, as it were, in French garb
and with French money, fought for other than French
interests.  When he was out of the way the inexhaustible
patience of French diplomacy had overcome all obstacles,
and Richelieu's endeavours were crowned with success.
Earlv in the summer of I639 this change took place. In
the spring, Baner had set out for Central Germany; had
invaded Saxony, and, encouraged by a victory at Chemnitz,
attempted to invade Bohemia. But this turned out most




BERNHARD OF WEIMAR.                 533
unfortunately. His hopes of a rising among the people were
not fulfilled; he was too weak to take Prague, and in June,
amidst fearful devastation, he commenced a retreat.
In Paris they vacillated between satisfaction over Bernhard's latest victories and anxiety as to his designs. It had
become clear, when he sounded them on the subject in
i638, that they were not disposed to leave him in possession
of Breifach. But the affair dragged on. Richelieu reckoned
that Bernhard would yield, and had already selected
Guebriant as governor. Bernhard remained quiet, and his
commissioner referred the subject to communications which
he would make personally.
Meanwhile, in January, x639, without consulting any
one, Bernhard suddenly set out from Breifach, took the
castle of Landskron, and advanced towards Lorraine. The
Spaniards and the Duke of Lorraine were surprised. Portarlier and Joux fell, and nearly all this rich country lay open
to him.
Even this, satisfactory as it seemed in itself, was a source
of iresh anxieties at Paris, and the Duke was still silent
about Breifach. All that could be learnt about it was that
he would arrange the matter personally at Paris.  But
warned by the other side, he gave up the journey to Paris,
in spite of the most flattering invitations, and tried to
subdue the Cardinal's ill-humour by friendly letters.
But it was plain that he was scheming to form a powerful
principality out of Alsace, parts of Lorraine, the free earldom, and other Upper Rhenish districts, while the utmost
intentions of France were to grant theln to him for his lifetiime. It was the interest of both to avoid a breach. Bernhard therefore tried to find a solution of the difficulty, and
in April sent his commissioner to Paris. He was to represent that the surrender of Breifach would give rise to a
suspicion that the empire was overpowered by France,
which would displease both the German princes and the
Swedes. The Cardinal was ready to pay the promised subsidies, and even some extra supplies; but then the Duke
must engage'to hold Breifach and the conquered fortresses
under his Majesty the King, not to surrender them to any
other person, and to give up the disposition of his conquests.
Whether Bernhard would agree to this was very doubtful; but his commissioner accepted an annuity of 20,000
iwres, and engaged to guard Breifach for Richelieu, now,




534 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
and in the event of Bernhard's death, and to furnish Riche.
lieu with private information respecting the Duke.
Meanwhile, Bernhard exercised  sovereign rule in the
conquered territories, averted the interference of French
officials, fostered agriculture, and did what he could to
render his rule acceptable to the people. His relations
with France were on the verge of an open breach.  In
July he had discussions with Guebriant at Pontarlier, which
nearly led to it.  He demanded Alsace and the most
important fortresses as a possession, declined to make any
concessions of his former or future conquests to France,
and demanded larger subsidies.
He left Pontarlier, and arrived on the 14th of July at
Hiiningen; there he fell ill, and on the i8th sank under his
sufferings.
There were suspicions of poison, for there were spots on
his body after his death, for which the medical art of that
day could not account; but this proves nothing, for nothing
can be more absurd than the medical reports of those days
of the facts and symptoms of an illness.  On this and
other occasions the impression conveyed is that the fatal
result of the malady must be mainly ascribed to the
doctor's art.
Still, it is worthy of note that the idea of violence was
spread far and wide-allusions were even made to it in the
preacher's funeral discourse at the grave-and all agreed
in pointing to Richelieu, his ally, in whose service he was
fighting, as the author of it. There was an instinct which
prompted this improbable notion, for the people had
thought: —they are at variance; the Cardinal takes no
pleasure in the Duke's victories; he wants to get rid of
him, that he may put a real French field-marshlal in the
place of the ostensible one.*
In fact, if ever a man's death was welcome to any one,
Bernhard's was to Richelieu.  Twice had his purposes
been thrust into the background, and he had to play the
part of a discontented ally, who had to find the money, but
was not permitted to have any voice in the management;
now he would be able to get the best army in the world
into his own hands, and to pursue his policy with a prospect of
success. The French command could no longer be set aside.
RiBse, ii. 328, shows how entirely unexpected Bernhard's death
was to the French.




DEATH OF BERNHARL O1 WEIMAR.    535
As we have seen, Richelieu found it very difficult to
create an army commensurate with his aims, and equal to
that of the enemy. The French military system was then
unusually bad.' The feats of the French army were spoken
of in that warlike age with the greatest contempt, and the
performances of La Valette's army were not calculated to
dispel it. The French had fallen into the background,
though no one will deny the military efficiency of the nation
in itself.
The Duke left a will, in which he bequeathed the command to one of his brothers, and ordained, besides, "As
to the conquered countries, and they are very considerable
countries and fortresses, we wish them to be preserved to
the German empire, and we therefore bequeath and devise
them to whichever of our dear brothers shall desire to
accept them, and can and will best serve your Majesty and
the crown of Sweden, that your Majesties (Ihre Liebden)*
may be the better supported in the aforesaid countries."
If neither of the brothers would take them, France was
to have the preference; but when peace was made she was
to restore them to the empire.
This did not suffice to protect the interest of Germany in
the great commotion that arose about the inheritance.
Sweden still looked upon the army as a branch of her own;
Bernhard's brothers took steps to gain it for themselves;
even the Emperor had a scheme for gaining possession of
it; but Richelieu was more on the alert than any of them.
On the 28th of July, D'Oissonville appeared at Breifach
with a handsome sum of money, to bribe the leaders and
gain over the fortresses. Longueville was selected as the
Duke's successor.  Erlach and Guebriant were naturally
zealous in the interests of France; the masses were helpless,
the leaders cheap.
It was, of course, but a small matter for Richelieu to
put aside this inconvenient will; still, it was not until
October that the business was concluded.  Under pretence
of maintaining previous agreements intact, new ones were
entered into. The army was kept together as a whole; in
return for some considerable rewards, and other immediate
advantages, for the engagement to supply provisions and
the necessaries of war, and to carry out gifts of land by the
deceased, the commanders and officers ot the whole army
* A title given by sovereign princes to each other,-Ta.




536 THIRD PHASE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.
promised allegiance to the King, engaged to serve against
any one, to be ready for any enterprise on behalf of the
restoration of public liberties and the oppressed classes, as
the King might see fit, should it be in France, Burgundy,
Lorraine, or the Netherlands. The conquered fortresses
should at once, " in accordance with the Duke's will "(!) be
made over to the King, Breifach and Freiburg should be
garrisoned with half French and half German troops, and
commanded according to the King's pleasure.
This was immediately carried out, and the negotiators
were handsomely rewarded.  The Count Palatine Louis,
who too late appeared as a candidate, was detained in
France; Bernhard's brothers were duped, and even deprived of their personal legacies.
The army was now French; a Frenchman was at its head.
Some French regiments were placed by the side of the
German ones, that they might take lessons from them.
The army was but moderately commanded for a long time,
and suffered a number of defeats; but it was the school in
which TLarenne and other great generals were trained, who
were to raise France to the position of the greatest military
power in Europe.
It was a great thing for Richelieu, who had hitherto only
exercised a secondary influence by means of money, and
had only attained to a partial co-operation with great difficulty, that he was now all at once relieved from these
restraints, and had an army pledged to his service, and
entirely supported by him.
These events were the turning-point in the Thirty Years'
War, towards which things had been tending ever since the
death of Gustavus Adolphus. The twofold interference of
France and Sweden determined the last act of the war, and
the supremacy of France in Euriope is connected with the
enlargement of the country by the Peace of Westphalia.




PART XI.
OF THE WNVAR. THE PEACE OF WESTPHALTA,
I640-48.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
BANiERSI$  END, MAY, I641, AND TORSTENSON'S VICTORIES,4
x642-5.
Battle of Leipzig, 2nd November, I643. — Campaign against Denmalrk,
t643-44. —Victory near Jankowitz, February, I645.-Simnultaneous
warfare of the French.-The Peace Negotiations and end of the
War. —The Diet of Ratisbon fiom September, I640o. —Branden.
burg's Proposition of Unconditional Amnesty, and Restoration to
the Condition of I6I8.-The Hamburg Preliminaries, December,
I641. —The Meeting of Deputies at Frankfort, I642-45.-Beginning of the Peace Congress and end of the War, I644-48.
BANER'S END, AND TORSTENSON'S VICTORIES.
THE war still went on for eight years, but the only
influence that it exerted upon the subsequent Peace was
that it overcame the last doubts of the Imperial court as to
the indispensable principles of the Peace. The indemnification schemes of the governments which had interfered in
the conflict were not altered, but until the fourth decade
they could not accustom themselves at Vienna to the idea
of the amnesty and the restoration of the old treaties of
peace. The last few years of the war decidedly conduced
to this end.
The first event of importance on the theatre of war after
* Besides the before-mentioned literature, Chemnitz, Geschichte des
Schw. Krieges, new ed., Stockholm, I857.  Keller, Drangsale des
Nass. Volks im di eissigjihrigen Krieg. Gotha, I854. Der Abentheuerliche Simplicissimus. Neue Ausgabe, Stuttgard, 1854, 2 Bde. Bougeant, hist. du Traitd de Westphalie, 2 Bde. Meiern, Acta pacis West.
phalicae, 1734, 6 Bde. Riitter, Geist des WVestphiil. Friedens, 1795. —
Ifippolithus Lapide, de ratione status in Imperio RB. Germanico, 1647




538             END OF THE WAR.
Bernhard's deatr, was Baner's attempt to join the army of
Weimar in central Germany. Not in a condition to pass
the winter in Bohemia, and threatened in Saxony and
Silesia, he did the only thing which rendered the longer
tarriance of a Swedish army possible-he resolved to'cross
the Erzegebirge into Thuringia, to compel the vacillating
He3sians and LiUneburgers to help, and to join the FrenchWeimar army. In March, I640, he commenced a retreat
amidst fearful devastations, crossed the Elbe at Leitmeritz,
and arrived April 3rd at Zwickau. He succeeded in joining with the mercenaries of Weimar and the troops of
Liineburg and Hesse at Saalfeld, but want of unity in the
command, discord among the princes, the privations that
had to be endured in these exhausted countries, and
mutiny among the Weimar troops, prevented any joint
action. They had to commence a retreat, and to confine
themselves to a watchful defensive action. Until December,
the war on both sides consisted of marches hither and
thither, accompanied with horrible devastation; but nothing
decisive occurred.
In September the Diet met at Ratisbon. While wearisome attempts were being made to bend the obstinacy of
Austria, Baner resolved to compel her to yield by a bold
stroke, to invade the Upper Palatinate, to surprise Ratisbon,
and to put an end to the DRi.et and Emperor together. At
the beginning of September he set out. Not without difficulty Guebriant was induced to follow, and to join Baner
at Erfurt. At the beginning of January they advanced
together towards Baireuth and Bamberg. It was only on
January 2nd, when the fugitive country people began to
arrive, that the Imperial troops were aware of their advance.
But the surprise of Ratisbon was a failure. The Emperor
declared that he should remain, and thereby restored the
composure of the Diet. Troops were summoned from all
sides. Baner and Guebriant did indeed advance as far as
HIof, and threw some balls into the town; but the enterprise was a failure, and a longer tarriance was undesirable.
The armies now separated again. Baner exhausted his
of persuasion in vain to induce Guebriant to go with
im. The French went westward. Hard pressed himself,
Bauer proceeded by forced marches towards Bohemia, and
by the end of March reached Zwickau, where he met Guebriant agahi4 and thoe bad a sharp conflict with the Impe.




CAMPAIGN AGAINST DENMARK.              539
rialists on the Saal. There Baner died, on the aIst of
May, I64I, leaving his army in a most critical condition
The warfare of the Swedish-French arms was come to'a
standstill. Both armies were near dissolution, when, in
November, Torstenson, the last of the Gustavus Adolphus
school of generals, and the one who most nearly equalled
the master, appeared with the Swedish army, and by a few
vigorous strokes, which followed each other with unexampled rapidity, restored the supremacy of its arms. These
feats were the more remarkable, as Torstenson was so ill
with the gout that he could not mount a horse, and had to
be carried everywhere in a litter.
After three months of rest, which he mainly devoted to
the reorganization and payment of his army, by the middle
of January he had advanced towards the Elbe and the
Altmark; and as the Imperial forces were weakened by
sending troops to the Rhine, he formed the great project of
proceeding through Silesia to the Austrian hereditary dominions.  On April 3rd he crossed the Elbe at Werben, between the Imperial troops, increased his army to 20,000
men, stormed Glogau on May 4th, stood before Schweidnitz on the 3oth, and defeated Francis Albert of Lauenburg;
Sehweidnitz, Neisse, and Oppeln fell into his hands.
Meanwhile Guebriant, after subduing the defiant and
mutinous spirit of his troops by means of money and pronrises, had, on January I7th, defeated the Imperialists near
Kernpen, not far from Crefeld, for which he was honoured
with the dignity of mlarshal
But this was a shortlived gleam of light, and was soon
followed by dark days, occasioned by want of money and
discontent in the camp. An attempt to recruit the army
with the country people of Brittany was a failure,* and,
more from necessity than from any hope of success, he had
turned eastward from the Rhine to seek quarters for his
murmuring troops in nether Germany, when Torstenson
effected a decision in Saxony.
After relieving Glogau, and having in vain tried to enter
Bohemia, he had joined the detachments of Kinigsmark
and Wrangel, and on October 3oth he appeared before
uLadizig.
On November 2nd there was a battle near Breitenfeld,
Which ended in a disastrous defeat of the Imperialists.  In
~ Barthold.




540             END OF THE WARI
spite of all the advantages which Torstenson gained fot
himself, it never came to a united action with the French;
and the first victory won by the French in the Netherlands,
in May, i643, did not alter this state of things.. Torstenson was in the way to obtain successes like those
of Gustavus Adolphus eleven years before, when he was
suddenly called to a remote scene of war in the north.
-King Christian IV. of Denmark had been persuaded, by
means of the old Danish jealousy of Sweden, to take up
arms for the Emperor. He declared war just as Torstenson
was proceeding to Austria. Vienna was now saved; but
so much the worse for Denmark. In forced marches, which
were justly admired, Torstenson set out from Silesia towards
Denmark at the end of October, conducted a masterly
campaign against the Danes, beat them wherever he met
with them, conquered Holstein and Schleswig, pushed on
to Jutland, then, while Wrangel and Horn carried on the
war (till the peace of Br6msebro, August, 1645) he returned,
and again took up the war against the Imperialists, everywhere an unvanquished general.
The Imperialists under the incompetent Gallas intended
to give Denmark breathing-time by creating a diversion;
but it did not save Denmark, and brought another defeat
upon themselves. Gallas did not bring back more than
two thousand men from Magdeburg to Bohemia, and they
were in a very disorganized state. He was pursued by
Torstenson, while Ragoczy threatened  Hungary. The
Emperor hastily collected what forces he could command,
and resolved to give battle.
Torstenson had advanced as far as Glattau in February,
and on March 6th, 1645, a battle was fought near Jankowitz, three miles from Tabor. It was the most brilliant
victory ever gained by the Sewedes. The Imperial army
was cut to pieces; several of its leaders imprisoned or
killed, In a few weeks Torstenson conquered Moravia
and Austria as far as the Danube. Not far from the capital
itself he took possession of the Wolfsbriicke. As in i6i8,
Vienna was in great danger.
Things might have taken a turn as disastrous for the
Emperor as they were in the days of Gustavus Adolphus,
had the French been able to keep pace with this mode of
warlre. But their ill success always counterbalanced the
Swedes' advantages.  Either they were beaten just as the




RETIREMENT OF TORSTENSON.             541
Swedes were victorious, or could not turn a victory to
account. Sc it was during this year.
The wes, frontier of the empire was guarded on the imperial side by Mercy, together with John of Werth, after he
was liberated from prison. On 26th March, Turenne crossed
the Rhine, and advanced towards Franconia. There he
encamped near Mergentheim and Rosenberg. On 5th May
a battle near Mergentheim ended with the entire defeat of
the French, and Turenne escaped with the greatest difficulty
by way of Hammelburg, towards Fulda. The victors pushed
on to the Rhine.
To avenge this defeat, Enghien was sent from Paris, and,
at the beginning of July, arrived at Spires, with  2,000 men.
His forces, together with K6nigsmark's, the remnant of
Turenne's and the Hessians, amounted to 30,000 men. At
first Mercy dexterously avoided a battle under unfavourable
circumstances, but on August 3rd the contest was inevitable.
A bloody battle was fought between N6rdlingen and
Donauworth near Allerheim, which was long doubtful, but,
after tremendous losses, resulted in the victory of the
French. Mercy's fall, Werth's imprudent advance, and a
final brave assault of the Hessians, decided the day. But
the victors were so weakened, that they could not fully take
advantage of it. Cond6 was ill; and in the autumn Turenne
was compelled, not without perceptible damage to the
cause, to retreat with his army to the Neckar and the
Rhine.
Neither had Torstenson been able to maintain his position in Austria. He had been obliged to raise the siege of
Brunn, and learnt at the same time that Ragoczy had just
made peace with the Emperor. Obliged to retire to
Bohemia, he found his forces considerably diminished.
Meanwhile, K6nigsmark had won an important advantage.
While Torstenson was in Austria lie gained a firm footing
in Saxony. Then came the news of Allerheim, and of the
peace of Brbmsebro. Except Dresden and Kdnigstein, all
the important points were in the hands of the Swedes; so,
on the 6th of September, the Elector John George concluded
a treaty of neutrality for six months. Besides money and
supplies, the Swedes received Leipzig, Torgau, and the
right of passage through the country.
Meanwhile, Torstenson had retreated into the north-east
o( Bohemia, and severe physical sufferings compelled him




542             END OF THE WAR.
to give up the command. He was succeeded by Charles
Gustavus Wrangel.
BEGINNING OF NEGOTIATIONS, AND END OF THE WAR.
It is singular that during the whole time, from I64o to
the last exchange of shots at Prague, peace negotiations
were going on.
They were set on foot just as Richelieu began to possess
himself of the Weimar army. Singularly enough, it was
Denmark, then neutral, a foreign power among the imperial
states, that first made the proposal. At a meeting of the
Electors at Nuremberg an amnesty was proposed, and the
convocation of a Diet, which had not met since I6I9.
The Diet was opened in September at Ratisbon. The Em.
peror consented to grant safe conducts to the foreign ambassadors, and to admit Hesse Cassel and Brunswick-Liineberg
among the Protestant States.  Brandenburg openly and
decidedly advocated the only just programme, and that
which, after eight bloody years, was carried out, release
from the peace of Prague, and proclamation of a general
unconditional amnesty. "If," says a Brandenburg report
of January, I64I,* "the amnesty universaituerure et absgue
ulla conditione is not conceded, and their rights not plenarie
restored to the States, and the Treaty of Prague and the
Imperial Religious Edict fully set aside-if everything is not
restored to the state of things that existed in I6I8 before the
war, all treaties of peace will be in vain, confidence will
never exist between the head and the members, or between
the members themselves, but distrust and dissensions will be
increased, and everything will be in confusion, dissolution
and dismemberment, totius Imperii, which, however, may
the good God graciously avert."
In fact, the mischievous results of the Treaty of Prague
could not have been more strikingly pointed out than they
were by the Brandenburg commissioners; instead of union,
discord had been produced; instead of peace, a war of incalculable length; instead of keeping foreiguers away, it
had brought them into the heart of the empire. But Bran.
denburg did not succeed with its proposals of a general,
unconditional amnesty. Electoral Saxony not only shame.
* Urkmnaen und Aktenstiicke zur Geschiohte Friedrich Wilhelm&




BEGINNING OF NEGOTIATIONS.            543
fully left it in the lurch, after characterizing the Treaty of
Prague as Zapidem offensionis, but, with Bavaria and Cologne,
went over openly to the Emperor's side.
The Emperor only consented to an empty amnesty, specially excepting his own dominions. It was also decreed
that the Peace Congress should take place at Miinster and
Osnabriick, that the mutual grievances of the States should
be heard at a meeting of deputies at Frankfort, and that
afterwards the former actions against the Protestants should
be again introduced.
The second act of these preparations was played at Hamburg, where, in December, i641, the Emperor's ambassadors, and those of France and Sweden, met to settle the
preliminaries: the place of the Congress, its neutrality, and
separate negotiations with Sweden and France. It was not
until September, I642, that the Emperor ratified the proceedings. He had been keeping his eyes on the seat of
war; every success of his arms, every disadvantage experienced by the enemy, was a welcome pretext for refusing
concessions, and delaying those promised, while the enemy
boasted none the less of every victory of the Swedes, in
order to hasten a conclusion.  Thus the victory of the
Swedes at Leipzig was required, to bring about the meeting
of deputies at Frankfort which the Emperor had been in no
hurry to set about. It was not under the Emperor's thumb,
like the Diet at Ratisbon. There was vehement expression
of dislike to this " endless Spanish war." Even Electoral
Mayence and Wiirzburg were very bitter against Spain and
Bavaria; the former advocated the restoration of the Palatinate, that Spain might at length be compelled to give up
her posts on the Rhine; the latter declared in private that
the "religious war" which the Emperor and the Elector of
Bavaria were always talking about had turned out to be a
war for their " sole private interests, in which they had been
obliged to take part and be ruined," and demanded a general
amnesty, "because they had practical experience that
nothing was to be done with the Protestants by force."
In the face of these proposals, the recall of Torstenson
to Holstein was very welcome to the Emperor. Saxony
said again that the time was come " for getting rid of the
Swedes." Nobody had any longer any faith in treaties;
Mayence was of opinion that it would have been well if the
useiess meeting of deputies had not been called. "and




544             END OF THE WAR.
money not thrown away." Amidst tedious discussions as to
whether it should be dissolved, or adjourned to another
place, it dragged on till the spring of I645, and then broke
up, scarcely any result having been obtained.
Meanwhile, the Congress had begun to assemble (I64344). The French insisted that ambassadors from the German States should attend. The Emperor tried to prevent
it, and wished to represent the Empire as a whole, so that
he alone might treat with foreign powers, and the princes
only through him. Sweden joined in the demand of France,
and both finally demanded that the transactions should not
begin until all the States were assembled. The Emperor was
obliged to give way, and the States accepted the invitation.
The Emperor's sentiments were mainly dependent on the
position of his arms. In June, 1645, Sweden and France
enunciated the principles of their demand. These were:
Unlimited amnesty even in the Austrian dominions, in the
Palatinate, Baden, and Wiirtemberg, according to the
normal conditions of i6I8; settlement of the Imperial
constitution, abolition of the election of a king of Rome;
acknowledgment of the right of the States to form foreign
alliances; indemnification for France and Sweden. Hesse
and Ragoczy were to give up intervention in the quarrel
between France and Spain. The Emperor declined to
accede; for meanwhile, after the battle of Allerheim, the
French had disappeared from Bavaria, Torstenson had gone
northwards, and, as the war in i646 was carried on feebly,
and without any decisive result-though Bavaria did, in its
distress, come to terms with France and Sweden-the
Emperor would give no binding promises. After the death
of Gallas, the imperial army was commanded by Holzapfel,
the Protestant Hessian.  So far had the religious war
deviated from its purpose.
In the year i648 the imperial arms were so persistently
pursued by misfortune, that delay was no longer possible.
In the spring of the year, Bavaria and Bohemia were
overrun by the enemy. In May, Holzapfel was beaten, and
fatally wounded, near Zussmarshausen; every attempt to
hold the Lech for the Bavarians and Imperiaiists had been
fruitless; K6nigsmark had entered the country, and in July
had taken possession of part of Prague; then came the
victory of Conde over the Imperialists, in the Netherlands,
near Lens, in August.




END OF THE WAR.                   545
With great difficulty, John of Werth had Just arrived, to
endeavour to regain some ground in Bavaria, and especially
to liberate Munich, when the news of peace came.
The Emperor had at length conceded, as the basis of the
religious peace, the amnesty, and the restoration of the
exiles, reserving the exceptions in favour of his hereditary
dominions. His father, Ferdinand II., would scarcely have
agreed to it even then.  In order to extirpate heresy, he
had made Germany and the Hapsburg countries a derert'
yet heresy was not extirpated. He had died in Februaiy,
1637, just before Bernhard of Weimar began his triumphant
course, and, following in his footsteps, French co-operation
thrust itself upon Germany in full view of the general conflagration which Ferdinand's fanaticism had ignited. Now,
even as in I637, he would have opposed every attempt at
reconciliation, but, happily for Germany, he was dead.
His son had grown up during the troublous times of war,
was personally less rigid in his ideas than his father, and
now, when the course of the Thirty Years' War was nearly
run out, he consented to that which, had it been honestly
conceded thirty years before, would have kept the peace.




CHAPTER XL
THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA.'HFE general course of the transactions and the alternra
tions of the parties, are best seen in the provisions of
the treaty itself.
On all purely political questions, Sweden and France
kept faithfully together. Whenever the object was to limit
the power of the Hapsburgs, to strengthen that of the
principalities, to represent the rights of the exiled princes,
but also to treat the empire as an indemnification for themselves, they were like hand and glove. Until the seventh
decade of the seventeenth century, Sweden and France
were closely allied in these endeavours, greatly to the disadvantage of Germany.
But in religious matters it was otherwise. Sweden and
France were the leaders of opposite parties. Sweden was
the mouthpiece of the Protestants and of every Protestant
interest. There is no doubt that we owe many beneficial
regulations to the attitude taken by Sweden. France was,
of course, on the other side. It was for her interest that the
Protestant princes of Germany should not be annihilated, for
theyr were the natural enemies of Spain and the Hapsburgs;
but it was by no means her interest to allow Protestantism so
to increase that it might become dangerous to the creed of
France.  Though she did not, therefore, ally herself with
the Emperor, she did with Bavaria, and it was now that
those relations were first entered into with this state which
have repeatedly earned for it the honourable title in France
of " our oldest ally in Germany."  Maximilian of Bavaria
was the first German prince who proposed the cession of
Alsace to France.
Tlhis was the curiously disjointed way in which the most




THE PEACE CONGRESS.                547
important parties at the congress were grouped. Sweden
secured  the adhesion  of all Protestant, France of all
Catholic elements; but the Emperor, both on religious
and political questions, had all parties against him, or, at any
rate, none for him. His plenipotentiary, therefore, could
not assume the position which was strictly his master's due,
and all the foreign powers with whom he had mediately or
immediately to transact business met him as the representative of a foreign power, and by reason of their adherents
in Germany, they were greatly his superiors.  His conduct, therefore, betrays the insecure position of an isolated
party.
The peace congress at Miinster and Osnabriick gradually became a European one. The powers which had not
taken part in the war were either present or represented,
and thus no European matter was left undiscussed, though
the archives of the Peace do not contain decisions about
them all.
The Netherlands tried to obtain the recognition of their
independence by the German empire, as did Switzerland
also. The representatives of the policy of the restoration
of ancient Catholicism, from which even the Emperor
gradually withdrew, came to the congress to prevent and
alter the treaty as much as they could. Neither Spain nor
Rome was in a position to hinder it; but they protested
against its validity, which gave rise to the express declaration in the documents of the Peace, that no protest or
interference was valid, let it come whence it would.
The negotiations continued till the autumn of 1648.
The last shots were being exchanged at Prague when a
messenger brought news of the conclusion or peace, on the
24th of October, I648.  France had treated with the
Emperor at Miinster, Sweden at Osnabriick, and come to
terms. On all essential points the treaties were in unison,
except on those questions on which the territorial interests
of France and Sweden diverged.
How the Peace changed the face of Europe, how the
fundamental principle of these peace transactions, in which
all the European powers took part, completed the emancipation of the western world from the traditions of the
Middle Ages, and introduced the new era of European
balance of power, we shall afterwards see. We will first
consider the a ntents of the treaty.




548        THE PEACE OF  rESTPHALIA.
The points of divergence and agreement in both treaties
may be thus grouped:-Part of the provisions of both
relates to temporal affairs, cessions, indemnities, restorations.
A second part, and, in extent, the most important, relates to religious and ecclesiastical questions, especially for
Germany, to the gist therefore of the whole war.
A third part relates to the imperial constitution of Germany, to the settlement of regulations which were intended
to determine, and did determine, the political life of the
German empire for more than a century. A constitution
was formed for Germany which issued in the Confederation
of the Rhine, and the dissolution of the "Holy Roman
Empire of the German nation."
TERRITORIAL QUESTIONS.
By the Treaty of Osnabriick, Sweden received the whole
of Upper Pomerania with the island of Riigen, of Lower
Pomerania, Stettin, Gartz, Damm, Golnau, Wollin, the
mouth of the Oder and the Frische Haftf, as a hereditary
fief, with all the rights of a State of the German empire;
also Camin and Wismar, and the whole of the, archbishopric of Bremen and the bishopric of Verden, with
the exception of the city of Bremen, which was to remain
free.
As Duke of Bremen, Verden, and Pomerania, governor
of Riigen, and lord of Wismar, the King of Sweden had a
vote among the temporal princes in the Diet, a legal position in the district directory and the meetings of deputies,
and the "privilegium de non ay5pellando et supremzum tribunal
constiluendi" belonging to princes of the empire.
This was pretty much what Gustavus Adolphus had in
view at the beginning of the war in Germany, only that
now a piece of the North Sea was added to indemnity on
the Baltic, and dominion over the Elbe and the Weser to
that over the mouth of the Oder.
The national character which, in spite of its loose consti~ttion, the German empire had up to this time tolerably
well mantained, was now lost, and replaced by a European
one. Until the end of the eighteenth century no less than
six European princes were members of the empire; at last
all the European powers were represented in it, except
France, Russia, and Turkey, and it was not the fault of the




TERRIT3RIAL QUESTIONS.               549
empire that these were not in it also. The merit of having
proposed the reception of the Sultan belongs to a German
politician. Peter the Great once had a project of becoming
a member of it, and it was suggested to France at the
congress; but she did not desire it. Louis XIV. did afterwards wish it at one time, that he might hold his reunions
still more conveniently, but consoled himself with the idea
that it was better as it was. If he were in the empire the
incorporation of Alsace would only be more difficult; it
was not easy to detach it from its fealty to the empire;
being outside it, he could simply ignore the decrees of the
Diet, and do as he pleased.
When the question arose about admitting France, the
Protestants, for the first and last time, were at one with the
Emperor; they joined in opposing it.
The European character of the empire caused the rotten
body to hold together longer than might have been expected from its constitution. In the wars with Louis XIV.
England especially, repeatedly stood up for the old German
empire; and the fact that a revolution of this wonderful
structure, within and without, was a European question,
caused its vegetative existence to be spared by all conservative powers as much as possible. But it could not be a
healthy existence that required to be so ingeniously kept
together.
The following were the terms agreed upon at Miinster
with France: -
The district of Burgundy shall be, as before, a country
of the German empire, after the settlement of the disputes
between France and Spain. But should disputes arise in
future between these two powers, they shall not affect the
treaty between the King of France and the German ( X:piire
as such; but the individual states shall be free to help one
side or the other, "extra imzperii limites," though only in
accordance with the imperial constitution ("secundum impeerii constitutionemr ").
The empire therefore lost the right of interfering for
Burgundy as a member of the empire; but the individual
States were, in a given case, to be permitted to unite with
the enemies of the empire, "beyond the boundaries, but
within the constitution of the empire." The anarchy esta.
blished by treaty, of the new constitution cannot be more
strikingly portrayed than in these words. A  time camr




550         THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA.
when all Western Germany was on the side of France, and
helped to protect her in her conquests.  This was a commentary on this article.
The  supreme  authority'sptoremim  dominium  iura
sztjeriorittis aliague omnia," over the bishoirics of Metz,
Toul, and Verdun, was to be conferred on the French
Crown, and they were to be incorporated with it for ever"eique incoaiporari debeant in Jerpelutum."   Up to this
time the possessions of these bishoprics had been only an
actual one, not legally acknowledged; the Peace of Westphalia  made  the  robbery legal.  Pignerol was ceded.
Elmperor and empire renounced all their rights and those of
the House of Austria over Breifach, the Landgraviate of
Upper and Lower Alsace, the Sundgau, the prefectures of
the ten imperial cities (IHagenau, Colmar, Schlettstadt,
Weissenburg, Landau, &c.) in favour of France, but with a
reservation of all the rights and privileges which these
plces had previously received from Austria.  France was
to hlave the right of garrisoning Philippsburg; the rest of
the imperial cities were to retain the immediate connection
with the Holy Roman empire which they have hitherto
enjoyed, "in ea libertate d  possessione imiedlietalis erga
ivaperium  romanunz, qua hactenus gavisi sun2," the German
fortresses on the right and left of the Rhine to be demolished.
The boundaries of France, therefore, were advanced to
the Rhine, the defence of the German frontier as far as
Philippsburg, which served the French as a tate du Jont,
destroyed.
The mode of cession was purposely full of contradictions.
The constituent parts of the empire ceded to France,
-that is, the ecclesiastical rulers, who still partly resided
here, the imperial nobles, and ten imperial cities, were not
to suffer any diminution of their rights and privileges under
French rule, were to retain their direct connection with the
empire, were to be subiect to the imperial courts; in short,
they were still to be -members of the empire, but with the
reservation tifat it sh/oula' be wit/houz  prejudice to the rights oy
France (" ila tamen uit 6resenti hac declaraione nihzil detractum intellzialur de ed suprenzi Domizii, iure, quod supra
Otcessum eslt ").
In the very nature of things, such ambiguous regulations




TERRITORIAL QUESTIONS.               55 1
were sure to give rise to all sorts of disputes.  The German
empire appealed to its expressly reserved rights, France to
the clauses by which her sovereignty was secured. The power
of France finally decided the matter.  Actual incorporation
with France was, doubtless, intended to be averted by these
articles; but their meaning was not defined sharply enough,
and it required more power to enforce its claims than the
German empire possessed.
Louis XIV. preferred not to be a member of the empire,
because had he been so he must have submitted to its
decrees, and would have been hampered in his schemes.
He had only to put his own construction on.the articles as a
foreign power, and practically to complete the incorporation.
During the following wars and treaties of peace these questions were always coming under discussion, and it was in
the very nature of things that they were always decided to
the disadvantage of the empire.
The many-headed empire, with its tedious transactions,
was confronted by a power that never for one moment lost
sight of its aims, never let a favourable opportunity slip,
and was always the stronger pJarty.
The internal conformation of Germany was settled on
the basis of the general amnesty, to which Hapsburg, after
long resistance, had agreed.
"All hostilities," says the document, " that have taken
place from the beginning of the late disturbances, in
any place, of whatever kind, by one side or the other, shall
be forgotten and forgiven; so that nei her party shall cherish
enmity or hatred against, nor molest nor injure the other for
any cause whatsoever," &c.
From this followed the unconditional re-instatement in
their previous position of all who had been driven from
their country and subjects, or deprived of offices or dignities, house or home, during the war.
Bavaria retained the Electorate and the Upper Palatinate,
but had to renounce its claim of thirteen millions. The
Palatinate received an eighth Electorate and the Rhenish
Paktinate back again  The official posts in the Bergstrasse
wre restored to Electoral Mayence. The line of Simmern
was re-instated.  Wiirtemberg, with Mo lnpelgard, BadenDurlaeh, Nassau, Solms, Isenburg Sayn, Waldeck, Hohenlohe, Erbach, and many others, were restored.
The restitution extended also to all persons in civil and




552       THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA.
military service: "a summo ad i.fnmum, ab infimo ad
sumzmum," as it is stated in the documents. This was one
of the disputed points, and the Emperor took care that it
should not be carried out without exception. It might do
in Germany; but in the Austrian hereditary dominions the
case was different.
Bohemia was almost depopulated, as a result of the reaction. Instead of four million inhabitants, there was now
scarcely one million, and some of the best subjects of
Catholic Hapsburg had taken possession of the estates of
the banished Protestants.
To have ordained unconditional restoration to the previous state of things in this case would have been to make
the existing government of Austria, the dynasty itself, impossible. To have restored to its property and rights the
party which had been doomed to destruction, and which for
thirty years past had been fighting under various colours
against Austria, would  have been fatal to the House of
Austria and its newly-iounded dominion.
In the German empire the restitution simply meant the
restoration of Protestant lands to Protestant masters; but
in Austria the whole state of things introduced by the
Restoration, which had lasted for nearly thirty years, would
be upset, and all the hostile elements would be in the
ascendant again.
The " amnestia 5erperua," therefore, was construed in a
very limited sense in the Austrian dominions. As Austrian
subjects, the Protestants were permitted to return, without
damage to "person, life, reputation, or honour; " but they
forfeited the ancient privileges of which they had boasted
as a party. Estates which they had lost before going over
to the hostile party were to remain in the hands of their
present owners; but those that were lost later, through the
act of joining the Swedes or French, were to be restored.
In every country of Germany there are traces of the
exile of the Bohemian aristocracy in the Thirty Years' War.
In going through the names of the noble families, Bohemian
names may be found even in the furthest north. Those of
Boy en and Gneisenau are among them.




RELIGIOUS AND ECCLESIASTICAL QUESTIONS. 553
RELIGIOUS AND ECCLESIASTICAL QUESTIONS.
The basis of the religious peace, and the principle of
equality between the creeds, were more unconditionally and
distinctly defined than in x5 52-5. The treaties of that period
were confirmed, and an interpretation put upon them which
was to be of unquestionable validity, against which neither
protest from nor interference by the imperial or ecclesiastical
power was to avail anything —" non, a/tenta cuiusvis seu
Ecclesiastid seu Poli/ici, intra' rvel extra Zmper-ium quocuznque
temnpore in/erposiza con/radictione vd firotestatione qua, omines
imanes declaranlur."  This was aimed at the protests to
be expected from'Spain and Rome, accustomed as they
were to protest against everything connected with religious
toleration.
In all religious questions complete equality was to exist
between electors, princes, states, and individuals (" evqualitas exacta mut/uaque"), each is to allow what seems right
to the other (" ut quod uni tarl iustum est, alterti uoque sit
ius/um "), and every kind of violence is for ever forbiddent
between the parties.
This principle, honestly carried out, was worth making
great sacrifices for, and it was more comprehensive than
before; for it included not only Catholics and Lutherans
but also the Reformed party, to whom liberty and equality
was now expressly granted. Toleration was also expressly
promised to those who should hereafter change their
religion.
It was more difficult to calculate on the results of this
principle as applied to ecclesiastical restitution. The consistent thing would have been, and it was demanded by all
the Protestants, -to recur to the state of things before the
war; but. that would affect the Austrian dominions as
deeply as the amnesty; it would involve restoring Bohemia,
Moravia, Upperf and Lower Austria, to the condition of
n6I8,. The Emperor, therefore, was as determined against
restitution in this sense as against the amnesty, and all that
was attained was that Silesia should remain as it was.
The question, therefore, was to find a normal year for the
restitution which should satisfy both parties.  The Protestants demanded x6X8; but the Catholics rejected it,
For them it would have been to put all the results of the
religious war in doubt again, and they demanded I63oi




554        THE PEAtE OF WESTPHALIAA.
which was the year most favourable to them, as It was after
the Edict of Restitution, and before Gustavus Adolphus had
gained any victory of importance.  But this was strongly
opposed by the S;vedes and Protestants, and after a long
dispute they came to a medius terminus, for which there
was nothing to be said, either on logical or historical
grounds; they divided the twelve years, thus arriving at
I624.  The Protestants could content themselves with
this, if it obliged the Austrian hereditary dominions to be
given up.
So it was decided that for ecclesiastical possessions and
rights, as a whole and in detail, the Ist. of January, I624,
should be the criterion. What was at that time a Protestant
or Catholic institution should remain such in future. Eccle.
siastics who change their religion shall give up their offices,
but " honorefamaque illibatis."
The ecclesiastical right of election shall remain unlimited,
and the preces primariag of the Emperor, annats and pall
money in Protestant bishoprics shall be abolished. The
archbishops, bishops, and prelates elected by the adherents
of the Confession of Augsburg shall be immediately installed
by the Emperor.
The mediate ecclesiastical possessions, without exception,
shall remain to the Protestants, as on the Ist of January,
624.
Knights of the empire and imperial cities shall have the
same privileges as the superior states of the empire, and
for them, also, the ist of January, I624, shall be the criterion
of restitution.
The mediate states of the empire shall be protected in
their creed, and the intolerant principle, " cuius regio eius relagio," given up; but at the same time the sovereign rights of
the immediate states in r eigious matters were granted with
a regulation calculated to occasion some anxiety ("nulli
sttui immecdiato ius quad ipoi' ratione territorii et supjeioritatie
in nego/iis rezig-ionis competit, imjnediri oportere"). Still, it
was expressly stated that the Protestant subjects of Catholic
states, who, in I624, "whether by treaty, privilege, long
usage, or only by observance," shall have been in the habit
ui using the Confession of Augsburg, shall retain it, together
wvith its "appurtenances;" that is, the institution of con6istowies, ministers, schoolmasters, right of patronage, &c.
Those who have been molested shall be reinstated-of




RELIGIOUS AND ECCLESIASTICAL Q1 ESTIONS. s55
course reciprocally. The Catholic subjects of Protestant
States shall receive the same privileges.
During the war, as the armies moved hither and thither,
new congregations had been formed in various places of
adherents of one creed or the other, with whom the year
1624 had as little to do as with those who should hereafter
change their creed. It was settled that "their rulers of a
different creed shall tolerate them patiently, that they shall
be at liberty to have domestic worship without molestation,
to attend the public services of their persuasion in the
neighbourhood whenever tLey like, and to send their
children to foreign schools of their profession." Had this
article been honestly kept to, we should have had little
more persecution to complain of on account of differences
of religion.
The treaty goes on to say, " No one of any party shall
look askance at any one on account of his creed; nor shall
any one be excluded from the communes, guilds, corporations, inheritance, legacies, hospitals, or the distribution of
alms, nor be deprived of honourable burial."
But this was more easily said than done. If any one wishes
to emigrate, or is induced to do so by his ruler, he may
do so without molestation, and without prejudice to his
property; he may either alienate it, retain it, or have it
managed by another. This was specially intended for the
Austrian and Silesian Protestants. The Emperor's subjects
in Silesia, and the counts, barons, and nobles in Lower
Austria were not to be compelled to emigrate. They had
not been able to agree, it was added, upon further concessions, "on account of the opposition of the imperial
plenipotentiaries." Sweden and the Protestant States reserved to themselves the right of interceding with the
Emperor on the subject at the next Diet.
No one shall in any wise dispute the treaty (" concionando
docendo, dispulando, scribendo, consulendo "), nor meddle with
the treaties of I552 and 1555.  Disputes shall be referred
to the Diet.
At the ordinary meetings of the deputies of the empire
the number of deputies of each religion shall be equal. In
extraordinary commissions for the settlement of disputes,
Catholics or Protestants, or both, shall be represented
according to the religion of the disputants.  Religious
questions shall not be decided by majority of votes.




556        THE PEACE OV WVESTPHALIA.
An early Diet shall regulate the affairs of the Court of
Judicature; besides the judges and four presidents, two of
whom  were to be Protestants, the assessors were to be
increased to fifty, of whom the Catholics were to appoint
twenty-six, the Protestants twenty-four.
To the article which declares the equality of the Reformed
party is added, " But except the above-mentioned religions,
no other shall be admitted or tolerated in the holy Roman
empire."
In the eighteenth century this clause was enforced against
the Pietists.
POLITICAL REGULATIONS.
The important political changes which resulted, first from
the European and then from the religious character of the
empire, have already been partially noticed. The aristocracy of the rulers and cities, which forms the essential
feature of the future constitution of Germany, is already
stamped upon it.
Article 8 contains the transfer of the sovereignty of the
empire to the States and their sovereign pleasure. They enjoy,
so it runs, the right of voting in all transactions relating to
the affairs of the empire, especially the enactment of laws,
questions of war, peace, treaties, taxation, levies of soldiers,
&c.; and without their consent no important business can
be decided.  To every, even the smallest regulation the
consent of the three Courts is required. The right of forming alliances with foreign powers, for its own support and
safety, is expressly granted to every individual state, so
long as they are not entered into against the Emperor, the
empire, and the public peace, but consistently with the
oath which every one has taken to the Emperor and the
empire (" ita tamen ne eiusmnodi fzedera sint contra Imperatorem et Inmperiuzm, pacemque eius publicam vetl ane inmprimis
transactionem, fianIque salvo per omnia iuramneno quo quisque
Imneratori et nznperio obstrictus est').
The last vestige of sovereignty which had been preserved
in the rickety German constitution was destroyed, and all
that appertains to the essential character of a State dis.
tributed among the members of the republic of the States.
This completely deprived the empire, as such, of its
rower. It was almost impossible with this constitution to




POLITICAL REGULATIONS.                557
decide gleat and urgent questions. The empire might be
ruined while the three Co'xrts of the Diet were coming to an
agreement on a complicated question.  The article b}
which the right of forming alliances was conferred on every
State contained within itself the dissolution of the empire.
All subsequent separate alliances were entered into "foi
the sake of German liberties," and with a reservation of
loyalty to the Emperor and empire; even the confederation
of the Rhine maintained that it was formed from great
regard for, and boundless loyalty to thle German empire.
And this hampering organizatioa was inflicted on a corporate empire which had suffered considerable losses both
in the north and south-besides Alsace, Pomeiania, &c.,
Poland was sacrificed, Belgium loosened, Switze-rland withdrawn from the imperial j'urisdition - and it was surrounded on two sides by powerful neighbours.
This was the end of the great revolution which had been
raging in Germany during the Thirty Years' War. That it
put the ftnishing-stroke to the already rotten constitution
was the least of the evil; a blow was struck by it at the
nation itself, its prosperity, and the foundations of its
existence, fro'm which it took generations to recover. The
descriptions of the misery inflicted by this war everywhere
in Germany are heartrending. The conduct of the soldiers
towards the defenceless citizens and peasants, their wives
and children, was so horribly barbarous that it seemed to
be their object literally to destroy the whole population.
The power of the armed over the unarmed was exercised
with bestial ferocity. It is said of the Imperialists that
they baked the poor people in ovens, roasted them before
the fires, put out their eyes, cut strips from their backs, cut
off arms, legs, ears, noses, breasts, and set pitch on fire on
their living bodies. Just the same thin.gs are reported of
the Swedes after their degeneracy after the battle of N6rdlingen. The "Swedish drink," manure-water, poured down
the throats of the poor wretches, was their invention.
The depopulation and devastation of the country was;
fearful. Especially in the south and west, Germany was a
wilderness of ruins; places that were formerly the seats of
prosperity were the haunts of wolves and robbers for many
a long year. It is estimated that the population was
diminished by twenty, by some even by fifty per cent. The
Rlpetulation  of Augs burg was reduced from  8o,ooo tc




558        THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA.
r8,ooo; of Frankenthal, from I8,ooo to 324'inhabitanti.
In Wiirtemberg, in I641, of 400,Qoo inhabitants 48,oo000
remained; in the Palatinate, in I636, there were but 20o
peasant-farmers; and in i648, but a fiftieth part of the
population remained.  In Hesse, 17 towns, 47 castles, and
400 villages were burnt; in Bavaria alone, in I646, more
than ioo villages were ruined; and in Wiirtemberg 8 cities,
45 villages, and 36,000 houses.
The measures which were necessary to bring the wilderness into cultivation again are indicated by the decrees of
the Palatinate of that period.* Whoever repaired old houses,
was exempt from taxes for two years; whoever built new
ones, for three; whoever brought waste lands, devastated
places and vineyards into cultivation again, for one, three,
six years.
Here, as everywhere, the most extraordinary exertions
were necessary to restore order and civilisation after the
devastations of' the war. But it was not the mission of the
empire; that was condemned to inaction; but of the individual states who now entirely freed themselves from
their loose connection with it, and whose independent
efficiency was now severely tested.
In reviewing the situation of Germany as a whole, the
best criticism of the new circumstances is contained in a
pamphlet published in Brandenburg in I658.t " Our noble
country has been fearfully spoiled in the name of religion
and liberty; we have sacrificed our blood, our honour, and
our names; and all that we have attained for it is, that we
have made ourselves the servants of foreign nations, and
made masters of those whose names were almost unknown
to us. What are the Rhine, the Weser, the Elbe, and the
Oder, but the captives of foreign nations? What are our
liberties and our religion but things for others to play
with?"
The part of the German Empire, both at home and
abroad, was played out. At home it was superseded by
the acknowledged sovcreignt, of the ruling princes, the
nobles, and the cities; abroad it was thrust aside by the
new position of two ambitious powers who had begun to
lay the foundations of their greatness at its expense. The
Swedish power was established, as projected by Gustavul
* EHiuaer, Geschichte der rhein. Pfalz, ii. 585.  jt Droysen, iii.




POLITICAM  REGULATIONS.              559
Adolphus, as an empire surrounding the Baltic and even
ruling a portion of the North Sea. It was a power which
it needed much hostile talent, and still more stupidity on
its own part to ruin.
France had acquired a similar position in the west: during the war, by the skill and rigid consistency of her
diplomacy, she had made her way out of great internal
difficulties, and with but little sacrifice she had secured a
rich booty, which offered a prospect of still greater gain;
her army also had experienced a discipline which was not
lost in ensuing times.
But the power which the German and Spanish Hapsburgs had wielded since the times of Charles V. and
Philip II., and for which they contended for the last time
during this war, was now thrown entirely into the background by their two more fortunate rivals. Spain was
thoroughly disabled, and the authority of the Exmpero; ii,
Ohe empire reduced to( a shadow.  The essence of that
which had been desired by Chemnitz* a year before the
peace-that Austria might bet constitutionally thrust out of
the empire-was accoi plishh.ea
The mediaval order of the European world was over;
the union which once more took place between Imperialism
and the Papacy to oppose church reform was for ever at an
end. An era begins of national consolidated governments,
with a new policy both foreign and domestic. For both
these tendencies France became the standard in the spirit
inaugurated by Richelieu.
* HUppolithus a Lapide, de ratione status in Impeno Germanki




PART XI!.; )MPLETION OF THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND
CHAPTER XLI.
rHE REFORMATION  OF THE  PROTESTANT CHURCH UNDER
EDWARD VI., I547-53.
the inheritance of Henry VIII.- Character of he young King,-The
first Protector, Edward, Duke of Somerset, I549.-The second
Protector, Earl of Warwick, Duke of Northumberland, I553. —
Character of the Church Retorm, Bible, Catechism, Book of Common Prayer, Abolition of the Mass, Celibacy, &c.-The Catholic
reaction under Mary; 1553-8.-Abolition of the Ecclesiastical
Laws of Edward VI., and first acts of revenge.-Miarriage with
Philip II. of Spain, 1554.-The question of Church Property.Parliament and the Laws concerning Heresy.-The Ordeal by fire
of English Protestantism.-The untenable position of the Government after the loss of Calais and the breach of the Constitution.*
THE REFORMATION UNDER EDWARD VI.
\ / HAT was attempted by Henry VIII. was not in anyv'  wise a Reformation, but a wanton  experiment of
autocratic absolutism.
* Camden, Annales rer. Angl. regn. Elisabetha, i675, fol. Collection of State Papers, left by Cecil Lord Burleigh, 1740. Letters of
negoc. of F. Walsingham, I655, fol.  Forbes, Public Transactions.
Townshend, Proceedings of the four last Parliaments of Elizabeth,
I68o. Birch, Memoirs of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, I754. Lucy
Aikin, Memoirs of the Court of Elizabeth, 18i8. Turner, History of
the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth, I829. Neal, History
of the Puritans, I723. M'Crie, Life of John Knox, I839; Whitaker,
Mary Stuart Vindicated, 1787. Benger, Memoirs of Mary, 1823.
Raumer, Elisabeth und Maria Stuart, 1836.  Mignet, Histoire de
Marie Stuart, 1850. Ranke, Englische Geschichte, vol. i.-vii., 1859-6&
Weber, Geschiche titer akatholischen Kirchen Englands.




CONFUSION BEQUEATHED BY HENRY VIII.  561
From motives of a very various character he had reduced
the ancient Church to ruins, united the monarchy and the
Papacy in one person, but retained  the worship, the
doctrines, and the hierarchy of the Romish Church. Although the most determined opponent of the Curia, he was
no less, from first to last, the declared enemy of Luther;
but what his subjects were to be, if they wished to escape
being hanged as rebels or burnt as heretics, it was not easy
to say.  If a man was a Catholic, he was sent to the
scaffold because he refused to take the oath of supremacy;
if a good Lutheran, he was burnt because he would have
nothing to do With the mass, celibacy of the clergy, &c.
The untenableness of the new position lay in the fact
that it was not based on any fixed principles, but depended
on the will of a relentless despot; it could not therefore be
permanent. It was easy to foresee that'at his death the
structure of Church order raised by this monarch would
fall, for the arm would be wanting that held it together.
It was long doubtful whether England would be Protestant or Catholic; but that the present state of things
would not last, and did not deserve to last, was obvious to
every one. It was also evident that this distraction of men's
consciences must at length become insupportable. People
were called Catholic, and then again heretical Protestants;
and were in fact neither the one nor the other.
To add to all the other confusion bequeathed by Henry
VIII., the succession to the throne was entirely doubtful.
At the time of the King's death there was no doubt that
his only son was his lawful successor; but if he should die
early, as soon afterwards happened, the question was not so
simple.
By his first wife, the unfortunate Catharine of Aragon,
Henry had one daughter, Mary; and in the opinion of all
unprejudiced persons she was the King's legitimate child.
But her mother's marriage with the King had been officially
declared illegal.
The second marriage with Anne Boleyn did not last long,
and the only issue was another daughter, Elizabeth. On
doubtful testimony her mother was accused of all sorts of
unchastity, and condemned by the same corrupt votea
which served the King in all these odious transactions.
She died upon the scaffold; her offspring therefore could
not be considered legitimate.
36




$62      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
The third marriage was with Jane Seymour, the only wife
who was not made wretched by her union with Henry, for
she died in childbed, and had not to drink the cup of his
hurnours to the dregs.
The fourth marriage with Anne of Cleves scarcely deserves
the name, so short-lived and fugitive was the connection.
The fifth wife, Catharine Howard, seems really to have
been guilty of adultery. The sixth, Catharine Parr, the
widow of a nobleman, maintained a tolerable understanding with the King; but as she had suspicious leanings
towards Protestantism, it is probable that she would have
been got rid of on account of theological scruples had the
King lived much longer.
Out of this family history arose most of the convulsions
by which England was torn during the second half of the
century, especially the conflict between the two queens
-Mary Stuart and Elizabeth, the Catholic and the Protestant.
The Seymour family, from whom on the maternal side
the young King Edward VI. was descended, gathered
round him in order to reign in his name, for he was only
ten years old. From all that we know of the King it
appears that he displayed a good-natured character, without
any of the Tudor haughtiness or despotic tendencies; but
he early showed great weakness and delicacy of constitution. Thus there came to be a government of guardians,
not by princes of the royal family, but by nobles, who therefore had all the other nobles who were excluded from
power against them. At first, the King's maternal uncle,
Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset, was Protector, a vain
ambitious man, but not without good qualities, which
endeared him to the people. His own brother, Thomas,
conspired against him, was subdued, and executed (1549);
then another party was formed against him under Dudley
Earl of Warwick, Duke of Northumberland, who succeeded
in compassing the Protector's fall, and in sending him to the
scaffold (I552).
Taken altogether, the first Protectorate was the best. It
was iot over-efficient. its projects were often much more
daring than its performances; but it was lenient, wellmeaning, and popular. The Duke of Somerset had the
prosperity of the state, and the good of the lower classes
Sincerely at heart; he neither enriched himself nor mi,




EDWARD VI. AND THE PROTECTORATE.   363
used his power by aggrandising his relatives at the
expense of the country.
With the second Protectorate came all the evils which
cannot be laid to the charge of the first-barefaced nepotism;
the public money was shamefully squandered on favourites,
and there was an attempt to secure the crown itself to the
family of the Protector.
The most important question, however, was what the
attitude of the government would be towards the Reformation, and the untenable policy of Henry VIII. And on
this point the new government was stamped with a sharplydefined character.
The young King had been won over to Protestantism by
Cranmer, and notwithstanding his youth showed a warm
enthusiasm for and premature comprehension of the new
doctrines. He had the noble ambition to make his country
the vanguard of the Reformation, and to offer a refuge to
the fugitive professors of the new creed in his free island.
The Seymours also favoured a thorough reformation from
conviction.  The leading powers in England therefore
were Protestant, and Cranmer was allowed to give the
supremacy to those doctrines to which he had long been
devoted in secret; he could now openly express in dogma
that approach to Lutheranism which he had been obliged
to conceal within his own breast. A great number of the
nobles were with him, the King and Protector eagerly took
his part, Parliament was easily gained over, and thus, with
comparatively little opposition, the traditions of Henry VIII.
were set aside, the Church system adapted to the continental Reformation, the Anglican Church made Protestant
by authority.
The English Reformation could not be productive and
original.  In the constitution of the Church the royal
supremacy could not be set aside; in the doctrines there
was nothing original to oppose to Lutheranism. It was
still a monarchical-aristocratic structure, an episcopal hierarchy which, except that it had a temporal head, was
Catholic; in the forms of divine worship Catholic and
Protestant elements were mingled with a preponderance of
the former; but the doctrines of the Church were thoroughly
Protestant.
These changes were made with prudence and tact'
and, first, the policy of compulsion as it existed under




504     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
Henry VIII. was discontinued. While the government
appeared to be walking in the steps of the late King, they
entirely renounced the essential features of his attitude;
while they seemed religiously to be abiding by usage, on
the most important points it was entirely changed.
The Six Articles were withdrawn by act of Parliament;
as to practices, to the omission of which heavy penalties
had been attached, such as oral confession, full liberty was
introduced.  Regular teaching of the congregation from
the English Bible, and of the youth from a purified catechism, a new liturgy by the Book of Common Prayer, the
administration of the communion in both kinds, abolition of
the mass and of the celibacy of the clergy, restrictions upon
processions, abolition of the worship of images, and invocation of saints-with strict injunctions against image-breaking-were the most important of the religious innovations.
The ruling powers were as firm in their Church policy as
they were weak in the secular government.
These changes did not arise, as in Germany and Switzerland, from pressure from the people, but were ordained by
authority. Although there was but little opposition, the
consent of the masses was by no means certain; they undoubtedly liked the reforms much better than the terrorism
of Henry VIII., still it was not clear that they would not
some day doff the new garments as easily as they had put
them on, whether a future sovereign might not succeed in
undoing the work of Edward VI.
No reformation which had been effected in this officialway had hitherto been strong enough to set a reaction at
defiance.
To add to these anxieties which lay in the nature of
the case, the second Protector had jealously to guard the
influence of his family. Since the King's health awakened
fears of an early death, he busied himself, in opposition to
the mandates of Henry VIII., in planning a succession to
the crown, which should on the one hand prevent a
Catholic reaction under Mary, and on the other secure the
crown for his family.
The daughters of Henry VIII. were, he considered, both
incapable of succeeding, the marriages of their mothers
having been pronounced invalid. Recourse must therefore
be had to the legitimate posterity of Henry VII., of which
there was one princess whose claims bore precedence, Lady




LADY JANE GREY.                565
Jane Grey, the great grandchild of the first Tudor, and
daughter-in-law of the Protector. She was to be proclaimed
Queen, with the declaration that her accession would be a
guarantee of the modern Church reform, while the Catholic
reign of Mary would upset it.
The King consented to this, excluded his sisters from
the throne and disregarded his father's injunctions, for the
safety of the Protestant doctrines outweighed everything
with him; and he gave their adherents credit for power
to maintain the good cause in any struggle that might
ensue.
On the 6th of July, 1553, Edward died suddenly, and
it now remained to be seen which party had the stronger
sympathies among the nobles and the people.
The Catholics, of course, were for Mary, and would have
been so had her rights been much more doubtful than they
were. All the powerful enemies whom Warwick had made
by his supercilious rule were against Lady Jane Grey, and
the majority of the Protestants were at least doubtful
whether, for the state of their creed and at the risk of civil
war, they should help to upset a legitimate succession.
The coaup d'etat must have been very skilfully planned to
succeed against such sentiments, and it was not so; the
attempt to place Lady Jane Grey on the throne, a learned
young lady, who was never more surprised than at the news
that she was Queen, was from the first miserably frustrated.
Mary had only to show herself, some courageous adherents
had only to proclaim her Queen, and the opposing party
fell to pieces; Warwick himself was eclipsed by the herald
who proclaimed her.
CATHOLIC MARY, 1553-58; BORN I5I6.
This was a most important turn in the course of events.
The question whether the Reformation ordained by authority would stand, was still awaiting solution. A princess
now succeeded to the throne who undoubtedly had decided
opinions on religious matters. Whatever her sentiments
might be on other subjects, in religion she was a strict
Catholic.
A government ensued which, perhaps without or even
against her consent, began to tread the path of Catholic
reaction, which first tested the vital power of Protestantism.




566      THIE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
Mary's portrait, as drawn by English historians, those
only excepted who favour strict Roman Catholic views, is
not a very flattering one. The greater number of them
speak of her only as " Bloody Mary." It is perfectly intelligible that the feelings of the nation, outraged by the Spanish
terrorism under this Queen, should revenge themselves by
such a title; and Mary cannot be absolved from  enorinous blood-guiltiness. Still it is not fair to yield altogether
tlo this impression. On unprejudiced psychological observation of her, we find the weakness of a woman which
deserves rather to be pitied than condemned, instead of the
wild fanaticism of a bloodthirsty character.
Mary Tudor was now no longer young, and had an unhappy childhood and youth to look back upon. She had
seen her innocent mother separated from her father by a
party tribunal, banished like an intruder from the court,
supplanted on the throne by a more fortunate rival; she
herself had been thrust into the background, threatened,
neglected, ill-used. Such things might have left fainter
traces on a sprightly and vigorous character, but they were
inflicted on a person who had an early bias to melancholy
and bigotry.
The remembrance of her lot was still further embittered
by the idea that her mother had been persecuted for her
faith, and that she herself had been condemned to obscurity
for the same reason. Her mother's misfortunes and her
own had begun with the day when the king broke faith
with the ancient church; and the victory of the rival was
at the same time, in her eyes, a victory of modern unbelief.
It was not so, but so it appeared to her. All the bitterest
experiences of her life were connected with the position of
affairs on religious questions. Protestantism was not only
a new doctrine which was opposed to her faith, but a hostile
principle which had brought wretchedness to her and her
mother.
She therefore hated the new creed, and felt herself a
stranger among the people. She was more Spanish than
English, regarded the English as accomplices in the outrages against her mother and her faith, and worshipped
everything Spanish. This was another cause of estrangement.
Then she was weakly and sickly, and had something of
the sour misanthropy of an old maid. This all conspired




QUEEN MARY.                    56)
to drive her to fearful deeds, for which an explanation must
be sought in all the circumstances of her life before they are
roundly condemned.
It was not that she came to the throne with her head full
of evil intentions. Many things were rather brought about
by the course of events than ordained by her despotic
will.
On her accession she made a declaration that the Protestants should not be molested in the profession and practice of their religion, nor should compulsion be used in
matters of faith; but she forbade the use of the offensive
names, " Papist" and "heretic."
Perhaps this was only done to allay the fears of the
Protestants, and to deprive the enemy of its latest adherents, for she was no doubt resolved at heart to restore
Catholicism. The first acts of the new government were
acts of revenge. Northumberland, whose behaviour now
was as cowardly and craven as it had before been insolent
and ambitious, was sent with five accomplices to the scaffold; and Lady Jane Grey and her husband were closely
imprisoned.
Then followed the measures for Catholic restoration, and
the supremacy which Henry VIII. had connected with the
regal power came to her aid, and still more so the subservience to which he had trained Parliament and the judges.
She filled all offices in accordance with her views; th Ise
who had suffered for their Catholic opinions under Edlward
VI. were re-instated  in their posts;  Bishop Gardiner
stepped out of prison into the office of chancellor, and a
number of eminent bishops, who were the pillars of Protestantism, were dismissed.  The ministry was formed in a
Catholic spirit, and in a few months the state of official
England was thoroughly reversed.
Edward VI. had only just made Protestantism the basis
of the government, and now pure Catholicism was lifting
up its head again. This arose from the nature of the Reformation; Henry VIII. had systematically deprived it of the
people's sympathy, and during the short reign of Edward
VI. it had not been able to take deep root.
The counter reformation was taking its course when the
elections for the new Parliament took place. If any defence
could be looked for in England against the arbitrary govern
ment, it could only be from Parliament. It had hitherto




568     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
been fickle, and had had no will of its own. Still it held a
weapon in its hand which might some day be effectually
used. The retrograde step made itself felt in the elections,
for the restoration of Catholicism was represented in them;
and it can scarcely be supposed that the new Parliament
was such as it was solely from government influence.
The first duty of Parliament was to abolish the edict
which had pronounced the marriage of Mary's mother invalid. After the Queen's succession was an accomplished
fact, the edict had lost its significance, and it was passed
without opposition.
But it was different with the next proposal, to abolish the
religious innovations of Edward VI. and the Book of Comn
mon Prayer. This, however, was also carried, though not
without a sharp contest.  Public worship again became
Catholic. The doctrines of the Church were placed upon
their old footing, and a wide breach made in the work of
the Reformation.
To go further than this did not seem practicable to the
Queen's prudent advisers, among whom was the Emperor
Charles V. So the mass was introduced once more, the
Catholic liturgy restored; but the temporal headship of the
hierarchy, the royal supremacy, remained, though the Queen
would have preferred at once to restore the supremacy to
the Pope.
After a long alienation from Rome, a sort of reconciliation took place, but it is remarkable that while grateful for
the restoration, they thought it best at Rome to moderate
the Queen's zeal. They did not venture to appoint a Papal
legate immediately. Among the chief of those who had
strenuously opposed Henry's innovations was Cardinal Pole,
who had escaped death by flight. He was looked upon as
the representative of exiled Catholic England, and was
treated at Rome with great favour and distinction. Pope
Julius 1. appointed him his plenipotentiary in England,
but it was long before the people were supposed to be ready
tfor his reception, and when he returned, after thirty years of.xile he belonged to the moderate party (a rare case with
a refugee), and was soon in despair at Mary's want of
moderation.'Trhe consequences of turning into the paths of Catholic
reaction soon developed themselves. The first Parliament
might have laid claim to some indulgence for its compliant




MARY'S MARRIAGE WITH PHILIP II.    5t0y
spirit, but the Queen thought it presumptuous for propo;ing
her marriage with an Englishman, so she dissolved it, and
interfered arbitrarily with its decrees.  The performance of
divine service in the English language was forbidden;
many thousand married clergymen were driven with their
wives and children fiom their offices, and reduced to beggary. Soon afterwards a marriage scheme was formed in
the background of which a fearful ecclesiastical counter
revolution was justly foreseen.
That at her age the Queen should still entertain the
thought of marriage appeared natural to every one. It was
wished in England that she should marry an Englishman,
and in the highest circles and in Parliament the young Earl
of Devonshire was thought of as a candidate for her hand.
But the daughter of a princess of Aragon would not hear
of an Englishman.  She had never had'any personal
attachment; it was not difficult to believe her when she
told the imperial ambassador that she did not know what
love was, but that it had always been the secret wish of hei
heart to form a marriage with the best Catholic house, that
of Spain. The hand of Philip II. was just then set free
by the death of his second wife, and Mary had turned her
eyes towards him. They were already diplomatically casting about fbr a wife for him, and had been negotiating with
Portugal, when it was learnt that he would meet with tne
most cordial reception in England.
The Emperor was most agreeably surprised by Mary's
communication. Father and son had just suffered a great
defeat in Germany; the connection with England seemed
to offer compensation. The marriage treaty was concluded;
Mary secretly consented to it in October, 1553; but the
mere report of it sufficed to set all England in a commotion. Spanish absolutism and the Spanish inquisition were
already beheld transplanted to England.
For the first time all parties were united in their fears.
Parliament spoke against the marriage, and was dissolved.
It then canme to open rebellion. The nobles, who saw their
possession of Church property rather than their faith endangered, were in a mutinous frame of mind; outbreaks
took place in Kent and Cornwall.  It was difficult to say
whether the voices of the Protestants or of the English
nation itself prevailed.
The revolts of Wyatt and Carew failed ignominiously,




570       THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
and the results followed which almost always ensue from
unsuccessful revolts. The Queen went still more recklessly
forwards.  She was not cruel by nature, but after being
threatened with insurrection in her own capital, she was
resolved upon the worst.
In February, 1554, fifty people were hung, and the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey, an amiable, inoffensive person,
entirely innocent of any share in recent events, was brought
to the scaffold as a possible accomplice, together with her
husband and the Duke of Suffolk.  Elizabeth was also
imprisoned in the Tower, but as nothing could be proved
against her, she was soon set at liberty.
The marriage of Mary with Philip of Spain took place in
July, I554. The new Parliament, worked upon and intimidated, had approved the marriage treaty, but it did not
seem at all disposed to set its seal to the completion of the
Catholic restoration, and was therefore immediately dismissed. King Philip was as amiable and affable as his
Spanish haughtiness permitted, and acquired numerous
friends among the aristocracy by showering pensions and
favours around him.
The Queen, meanwhile, impatiently urged a complete
return under the authority of the Pope. Her ecclesiastical
title, the leniency towards the heretics, to which she had
been compelled, the spoil of Church property which had
been begun, lay heavily upon her conscience as sins for
which she was personally responsible. However impolitic
this might be as far as the English crown was concerned, it
so.much the more proved the sincerity of her fanaticism.
The Church property had been unmercifully cut up; a large
portion of it had been seized by the Crown itself, and,
fortunately for England, sold again at prices so moderate
that the well-to-do middle class gained immense wealth by
it. The question, how to right this wrong without committing another, was a very complicated one. As it is not
seldom the case that men find it harder to surrender a
portion of their worldly goods than to abjure their faith, it
might be expected that the great majority would sooner put
up with a return to the mass, the papal supremacy, and
even to the laws against heresy than to a demand for the
restoration of Church property.
It does honour to the Queen's faithfulness to her con.
victions, if not to her political insight, that this was not her




PERSECUTIONS UNDER MARY.               571
feeling- that she would have liked to restore her own
estates which had fallen to the Crown, together with the
others; but in this view she was entirely alone.
No decisive progress could be made in England without
a dispensation to secure the forty thousand heads of families
in the possession of the Church property they had purchased,
but with it everything might be attained.
In fact, the new Parliament declared itself ready to abjure
its Protestantism, and to regulate the Church and her
doctrine in accordance with the Pope's pleasure if no one
would interfere with the distribution of Church property,
and when a pledge to this effect was given, it consented to
render obedience to the Pope and to renew the edicts against
heretics.*
Thus the counter revolution was legalised, and the trials
for heresy could begin.  All the more eminent foes of
Catholicism, among them the first names in the nation, and
the stars of English learning, were summoned before the
inquisition, condemned, and executed, not for any guilty
deeds, attempts at insurrection, or for disturbing Catholic
worship, but solely for theoretical views on religious questions which differed from those. of Gardiner, Bonner, and
the rest of the strict Catholics. The intellectual aristocracy
of the land was brought to the scaffold, and most of the
victims met their fate in a manner worthy of their moral
rank. During the three years before Mary's death it was
reckoned that two hundred and seventy heretics were burnt,
among whom were fifty-five women and four children. One
of the first victims was old Archbishop Cranmer, who had
hitherto managed to pass muster, but was now thrown into
prison by his mortal enemy, Gardiner. By a disgraceful
transaction he was induced to try to save his little span of
life by a recantation, and yet he was burnt. An odious
game was played with the old man, which outrages every
feeling of humanity.
For Protestant England these days of persecution, in
which the best blood of the nation was spilt, was a time of
awakening and revival. Up to this time it had been the
custom to adhere in the main to traditional views of religion,
but to change their outward garb with the changes of the
government.
* Ranke, E. G., L 267.




572     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
Mary no longer allowed any freedom of choice. She did
her best to separate the chaff from the wheat. To set
against the thousands who bowed down before each successive government, there were hundreds who preferred death
to giving up an iota of their faith.  Indeed, under the
impression of the sublime contempt of death with which
most of them mounted the scaffold, all the Protestant part
of the nation gradually became inspired with sentiments of
emulative self-sacrifice; death lost his sting, the leaders
drew the multitudes along with them, and faithfulness unto
death, which had hitherto been wanting to English Protestantism, was given to it by its bitterest enemy.
If Protestantism stood this fiery trial, it could not fail to
become more than it had hitherto been. No longer something officially commanded or tolerated, it would be strong
enough to stand alone.
All that was now wanting was that the government in its
foreign policy should take an anti-national course, and thus
make the sufferings of a party coincident with the shame
and enthralment of a whole nation.
This was effected by the foolish part which Mary in her
infatuation was induced to take in the Spanish-French war.
The defender of Metz, Francis of Guise, took Calais from
England, January, i558-the last proud reminiscence of the
time when England ruled as far as the Loire was lost,
because the Queen sided with Spain, and a dangerous mis.
understanding had arisen at home.
Pope Paul IV., the Pope of the most rigid and relentless
restoration, had reversed the decision of his predecessor on
the subject of Church property, and demanded at least the
devolution of the Church property in possession of the
Crown. Mary, with whom this was a matter of conscience,
appeared herself in Parliament to urge this act of justice,
and succeeded in carrying it by a very small majority,
December, 1555; but the suspicions of the aristocracy who
had Church property in their private possession could no
longer be subdued. To add to this was the unhappy war.
Parliament would not grant any further supplies; the Govern.
mrent imposed arbitrary taxes, and proceeded with violence
against the courts which sided with those who refused to pay
the taxes.  The Government, which persecuted the Pro.
testants as if they had been criminals, with fire and sword,
trod also the laws of the land underfoot, and sacrificed the




MARY'S DEATH.                 573
national honour. Thus the idea arose that Protestantismn
and English nationality were identical, and the Government
had reached that point which Charles V. and Cardinal Pole
warned them to avoid if they did not wish that the country
should be made Protestant by force.
General and increasing discontent prevailed. If a revoiurion broke out, no legitimacy could protect the Queen; it
would be sure to succeed. Just when suspense had reached
its height, on the 17th of November, I558, Mary died.
She was quite forsaken in her latter days; even Cardinal
Pole no longer possessed her confidence; she had only the
fanatical Bonner now, as ever, on her side. She died just
in time to escape being the victim of a revolution.
There was no doubt in the minds of the people as to her
successor. Mary had never regarded her sister Elizabeth
with affection, and it was not to be expected of her; but
the Protestant Elizabeth had, with great prudence and n(:
small success, avoided everything which would havec
rendered her suspicious in the eyes of her sister. Had shi:
not done so, it would have been easy for Mary to have hae
her executed as a heretic, and thereby to have smoothed th,
path of Mary Stuart to the throne. But Elizabeth ha,
happily outlived the time of persecution, and was now le,,
forth from the Tower to be seated on f throne.




CHAPTER XLII.
QUEEN ELIZABETH, 1558-I603.
Cautiotis beginnings.-The Parliament of 1559 and the Re-estaksils.
ment of tile Anglican Church.-Beginning of the conflict with
Mary Stuart. —The Reformation in Scotland, John Knox.-Mary
Stuart in Scotland, 156 -8.-Darnley. —Rizzio.-Bothwell.-Mary
Stuart in England.-Attitude of Rome and Spain against Eliza.
beth. - The Conspiracies. -Norfolk, 1569-I572.- Elizabeth's
forced enmity towards Rome and Spain, 1572-85. —Conspiracy of
Savage and Babington.-Mary Stuart's Trial and Execution,
i586-7.-The Spanish Armada and Elizabeth's last days, I603.
CAUTIOUS BEGINNINGS.  THE PARLIAMENT OF 1559, AND
THE RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF ANGLICANISM.
OfUEEN  ELIZABETH  had preserved a sound mind
>- during years of suffering and oppression. During the
five years of Mary's reign she was watched by spies belonging to the ruling party, whose whole endeavours were
directed to surprising her in some false step, so that she
might be put to death as a conspirator. She avoided all
their snares with great dexterity, and so escaped the fate of
Lady Jane Grey.*  Her lot had been pretty much the
same as that in which Mary imbibed her gloomy misan.
thropy, but her character was totally  different; she had
the youthful sprightliness, the light Frenchl blood of hen
mother, just the qualities which had captivated Henry VIII.,
though she had not her mother's beauty.  Her sufferings
had not crushed her spirit, nor disturbed her love of and
confidence in the world. As triumphant as if she had had
a happy life to look back upon, she stepped from her prison
to the throne, resolved to remember no longer that her life
* For the part taken in this matter by Philip II. see Ranke, i. 293.




QUEEN ELIZABETH.                  575
had been schemed against, to reign as if she had always
been treated as the future Queen. She could associate
without constraint, and as if nothing had happened between
them, with men who had conspired against her life.  It
was not everybody who could have done this, and after a
period of bitter and bloody party conflicts, had it been for
this reason only, this reign would have been a blessing to
the country.
Although mortally hated by the Catholics, Elizabeth did
not hate them.  On the contrary, it often appeared as if
she was too lenient towards them.  With all her weaknesses and bitternesses, hers was a character which people
could not help liking in spite of all her calumniators. She
was just what she appeared to be; with her feminine
sensitiveness, her often ludicrous vanity, and her love ol
homage and flattery, great and regal qualities were united;
her whole life was a manly struggle to uphold the power oi
the State and the national idea, and when she had to choose
between her personal tastes and fancies, and the great requirements of the State, she never failed to choose the
latter. The Englishman is right in holding his'" Queen
Bess" in grateful remembrance.  She gave her country fifty
years of domestic peace, security, and order, and laid the
foundation of England's greatness; not that she did it all
herself, but nothing was done in which she did not take a
decided part,
She did not, when she began to reign in 1558, seem
likely to become the Elizabeth she afterwards proved herself to be-the pillar of Protestantism, the opponent of
Spain and Romn..
At first she had neither inclination nor occasion to take
this part. Though not romantic, she was easily interested
in such ideas; she was cool, quiet, and reasonable, not
without a trace of cunning which often became falseness;
it was her intention to keep peace with all parties, and
Europe was chiefly to blame for the fact that she afterwardls
diverged from this path. She had at first no other idea
than to leave Catholicism alone, though she intended to
grant the legal protection to Protestantism, which it had
to dispense with under Mary. Her first act therefore was
to put a stop to the bloody edicts against heresy, and to
abolish the courts for trying it; but there was nothing else
that bore any special Protestant stamp, no declaration was




570 t    THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
made that Catholicism was no longer the dominant religion
in the State, and at this the Protestants who had been persecuted and oppressed took offence.
This did not arise altogether from the feminine tendency
to mediate, where men had quarrelled; there was another
reason for it. Elizabeth did not hate Catholicism; she was
a Tudor, and every one who bore that name placed a high
value upon authority, and in the eyes of many the Catholic
hierarchy was authority personified; then  the outward
pomp and consecrated splendour of the Romish worship
was imposing to her womanish character.
Thus her first ecclesiastical acts might be called syncretistic. She went to mass because she thought she owed it
to her Catholic subjects; she even forbade the preaching
because of the disputes about the pulpits that began to
arise, but in the rest of the service she permitted the use of
the English language which had been forbidden by Mary;
she took care, however, not arbitrarily to undo what Mary
had done. She did not wish that it should appear that
she was giving things a one-sided Protestant colouring. It
was her desire to be at peace with Spain, Rome, and
France, with all the world, in fact, as well as with her own
country.
Her first proceedings in religious matters are connected
with the dissolution of the old Parliament and the election
of a new one.
It was quite intelligible that, in 1553, the popular voice,
excited and irritated as the nation was, should be sincerely
in favour of the Catholic party, and that it should therefore
have the majority at the elections; but it was equally intelligible that, after five years of bloody persecution, an
entire change should have taken place, and that not a
single Catholic candidate was even nominated. There was
no need for Elizabeth to speak, the people spoke for
themselves.
All that Mary's government had achieved for Catholicism
was the defection of the nation. Government and Parliament now went hand in hand, to restore the most important
things which had been abolished under Mary, and they
succeeded with comparatively little resistance.
The completion of the national Church of England, of
which the foundations had been laid under Edward VI.,
wa now taken in hand; and in all essential points it re.




RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF ANGLICANISM.    577
mains to this day as it was then built up, The mass was
abolished, the liturgy of Edward VI., and the royal supremacy in ecclesiastical matters restored. The new organization overcame all opposition, and excluded every element
which, tending either to Catholicismi or Calvinism, held
opinions differing from  its own.  The new  Church undoubtedly comprised the greater part of the nation; but on
the one hand there were the Catholics who were excluded
from the government, on the other the strict Reformers of
the Genevan school, who accepted the breach with Rome
and the Papacy as a matter of course, but did not like the
English hierarchy.  Perhaps, if votes were taken now, the
majority of the nation would belong to the opponents of
the Anglican Church, but the structure raised by Queen
Elizabeth is still practically of great importance; it i:
based upon a well organized and internally coherent ecclesiastical hierarchy; it possesses very considerable power
through its ChL.r-ch property, which though then diminished
has since greatly increased, a number of seats in the Lower
House are at its disposal.z  Through the bishops it occupies a number of seats in the Upper House, and is thereby an essential support of the aristocratic constitution of
England.
It is possible to have a great aversion to a State Church
and yet to be compelled to admit that at that time, after
the confusion and transitions of the last thirty years, it was
necessary to establish an organization which should brave
all future storms. This the English Church has done;
she has survived two revolutions and remains to this day,
no longer, indeed, exercising the same spiritual authority,
but holding the same political position as she did then.
Elizabeth did not bring this project with her ready made
to the throne; but when with a true instinct she perceived
the need of it, she allowed the voice of the people to be
heard, and gave her sanction to what was for their interest.
On these points she allowed herself to be borne on b;,
the voices and movements of the people, and her relations
with the different parties were by no means so sharply
defined as we commonly suppose.  We think of her as the
mortal foe of King Philip and the Papal Curia, as the
protector of the Netherlands and the Huguenots; we shall
fOn this point Professor H-iusser has evidently been misinformed. —-T I
37




578      THE REFORMATION IN EN GLAND.
see her afterwards playing these parts, but she did not
begin to play them at once. She still wrote to Madrid and
Rome in a tone of affection, and it was only when she
ceased to do so, that it was remarked that she was not a
legitimate daughter of Henry VIII., that she had no right
to the throne, and that the voice of Parliament, which was
more decidedly on her side than it had been on Mary's,
was null and void.
The opposition to her right to the throne by all the foes
of English Protestantism and English liberties, gradually
compelled her to take up a position of decided partisanship,
which was rendered doubly bitter by the fact that it was
coloured by personal intrigues and interests. The personage who was opposed to her as the Pretender to the throne
by the Catholic powers, who disputed her honourable birth
and her claim to the throne, was her neighbour in Scotland, Mary Stuart, who entered into the contest with all a
woman's passion.
These two women quarrelled after the fashion of their
sex; the one was a frivolous coquet who knew nothing of
self-control, the other did exercise it, though also a sensuous woman; the one possessed all the virtues and vices
belonging to such a character, the other, though not free
from affected prudery, was sustained by a certain masculine
ambition and political greatness wholly wanting in the
other.  They were complete contrasts in most of their
characteristics, and they could no- live together in peace
when politics brought them in contact. Elizabeth must
either subject herself to the Queen of Scotland-that is,
renounce her throne and honour, or carry on a struggle
with her for life and death; there was no third course.
When Elizabeth first came to the throne no opposition
was offered by the powers which afterwards opposed her;*
it was only after the ecclesiastical proceedings that the
legitimacy was called in question; at first in whispers, and
then openly declared against.  The same confusion of
ideas prevailed which had been employed against Mary on
the other side.
Those who considered her mother's adultery as proved,
might pronounce Elizabeth illegitimate. Her sister Mary
had always treated her as her father's legitimate daughter.
* Hiusser appears not to regard the Pope's protest (Ranke, i. 301),
as it had no immediate consequences. —ED.




RIVALRY WITH MARY STUART.               579
Mary Stuart's right was indisputable, but it would only
come into force after the death of Elizabeth and her
heirs.
Margaret, eldest daughter of Henry VII., first of the
Tudors, made a Scotch raa'riage, and as wife of James IV.
(I 513), became the mother of James V. He married Mary
of Guise, a sister of the Victor of Calais and the spokesman of Trent. Of this union was born Mary Stuart, as
she was called, to distinguish her from the other Marys
who played a part in her history. When very young she
was married in France to Francis II., who began to reign
in I559 and died in I56o. It may have been partly this
circumstance which prevented the Catholic opponents of
Elizabeth from earlier thinking of setting up Mary Stuart
as a pretender to the throne. It was only really as Queen
that success for the scheme could be looked for; before
she was Queen, and when she was so shortly Queen no
longer, there was no prospect of it.
Mary Stuart was a widow at eighteen. There was no
lack of proposals of a second marriage, for her youth and
beauty and the possession of the crown of Scotland made
her a desirable match. Philip II. knocked at her door as
he did at Elizabeth's. She did not, however, then form any
second marriage, but followed the advice of her uncle, to
cross over to Scotland and take possession of her throne.
Up to this time the government had been carried on by her
mother, Mary of Guise.
With Mary's reign in Scotland the contest between the
two Queens began.
Mary assumed the rights of a crown which were of themselves difficult to defend, and they had just met with a
strong counterpoise in the Reforlnation.
THE REFORMATION IN SCOTLAND.
The monarchy in Scotland had always been a limited one,
partly from the power of the landed nobles, partly from
the defiant and independent spirit of the people. Revolt
against the royal authority was an everyday affair. The resolve to rush into the king's presence with pikes and guns
was accompanied by no more hesitation or pricks of conD
science than it was anywhere else in the Middle Ages.
V' any of the nobles were dissatisfied with the Crown,




580      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
they stirred up a quarrel, and followers were seldom want
ing among their vassals and the people. To reign
amidst difficulties so great required a tact which the Stuarts
by no means possessed. Their arrogance, their exaggerated
idea of the sacredness of their authority, their severity,
capricious obstinacy and unyielding defiance, their pro.
verbial vacillation between despondency and presumption,
totally unfitted them to be rulers of Scotland.
King James V. died on the I4th of September, 1542, and
Mary was born only a few days before his death. There
was therefore no king in Scotland; the heiress to the throne
was a new-born babe, and her guardian was a Guise. This
happened, too, at a time when that great crisis was taking
place in the North of Europe, in which everybody was either
engulphed in the reform movement or resolutely opposed it.
Scotland was also affected by it, but differently from
England. The Reformation there took a course of its own.
In this case it was not the conflict of theological opinions
or national aversion to interference from Rome, but the
degenerate lives of the clergy which gave the impulse to it.
It was not the whim of the sovereign, or the shrewd calcu.
lations and political ambition of a ruler which gave rise to
the breach, but the moral exasperation and love of liberty
of the best spirits in the nation.
Calvinistic Geneva was the school of Scotch Protestantism; and inasmuch as Calvinism was one of the most
remarkable figures of the age, Scotland, its favourite
daughter, claims a special interest.
John Knox (born 1505) takes the foremost place in this
movement. With the fiery zeal, the rigid strictness, the
gloomy theocratic sentiments of. Calvin, he united the
unyielding love of liberty, the stormy spirit of opposition,
which belong to his nation. A Calvinist than whom,
Calvin himself excepted, there never was a more rigid one;
a man of blameless purity of life, a preacher like his master,
and filled with the theocratic zeal of an Old Testament
prophet, he possessed the unconciliatory radicalism of these
revolutionary tendencies. In his ideal of Church and
State there was neither royal nor priestly supremacy. The
priesthood and the clergy were to be abolished, the Romish
worship expunged from the earth, the ruler or nobleman
who made an ill use of his rank should be outlawed, uncon.
ditional church reform was the sacred duty of the commua




JOHN KNOX.                   581
nity, if the rulers neglected it, and no pains must be spared
in the execution of this duty.
Under the regency of Mary of Guise he had been compelled to leave Scotland. At first he was a convict in the
galleys in France; then he went to Geneva, and sat at the
feet of Calvin.
On his return, at the end of 1555, he began to preach
Calvinism with ail its exclusiveness, but also with all its
energy and greatness of character.  He began by quietly
forming congregations, to whom he administered the Lord's
Supper according to Protestant forms. The common bond
was-no communion with Roinish "idolatry," and adherence to the word of God unto death. In this propaganda
the example of the mother Church at Geneva was first c:arried out on a larger scale; the principle of self-government
by self-elected elders and ministers was introduced, and the
rigid simplicity and plainness of the Calvinistic worship
carried to a fanatical point. Knox went further than Calvin,
because he was surrounded by a Catholic State Church
which violently opposed every innovation; and amidst the
irritation occasioned by this Scotch Calvinism assumed an
exaggerated degree of rigidity and austerity.
It was the peculiarity of Calvinism that it was more than
any other phase of Protestantism the implacable enemy of
the Roman Catholic Church and worship, and that it was represented by characters who personified it, from its greatest
features to the minutest detail, with inimitable onesidedness.
John Knox was one of these men; half prophet, half
tribune, dictator to the Church, pulpit orator, and popular
agitator, he carried his countrymen along with him as no
one else could. Contrast this gloomy personage, full of
pith and marrow, with the bright Mary Stuart, who was
just opening to the pleasures of life, brought up in the
elegant, immoral atmosphere of the French court, and you
will have some idea of the incongruous elements which
were soon to produce an explosion.
There was a powerful nobility in Scotland, who had
always looked upon the Stuarts merely as their equals, and
in the violence of the government and clergy against the
heretical doctrines they saw a menacing assertion of the
royal authority.. A great many of the nobles adopted the
new doctrines, which were a pledge alike of religious and
political liberty. One of their most zealous partisans was




582      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
one of the Stuarts themselves. James V. had seduced a
noble lady, and a son was born who bore his father's name,
and whom Mary herself afterwards created Earl of Moray.
The father's sin was to be revenged on him. He was a
gifted and passionate man, attached by conviction to the
new doctrines, and he was in the foremost ranks of its
adherents.
In March, I559, the Protestant nobles demanded of the
Regent that the bishops should be chosen by the nobles of
the diocese, the ministers by the congregation, and that
divine service should be performed in the native tongue.
Instead of granting it, the clergy persuaded the Regent to
let the courts take proceedings against the heretics. In
May, therefore, stormy scenes took place.
John Knox, who had just returned to Scotland, preached
fiery sermons against the idolatry of the mass and the
worship of saints, and but a slight impulse was wanting to
incite the masses to violence. In Perth an attack began
upon images, altars, monasteries, and abbeys, which in a
few days spread over a great part of the land, and was fol
lowed by a tumultuous victory for the Protestant worship.
A number of churches were dismantled, about two hundred
monasteries destroyed, the mass abolished, and the liturgy
of Edward VI. introduced.
By means of promises, intended to be broken on the first
opportunity, the Regent tried to quell these disturbances;
but when French troops arrived in the country it came to
open revolt. In October, 1559, the Presbyterian party
met as the " nobles and commonalty of the Scotch Church,"
and declared that the Regent had forfeited her office by her
infringement of the constitution.
The unity of religious and political revolution had
become a fact, and the preachers justified these proceedings
from the Bible.
It was therefore political as well as religious considerations which helped to procure victory for the revolution.
Elizabeth was not enough of a heroine of the faith,
and too much of a Tudor, to lend a hand to the rebels
against a legal government.* Philip II. must have re.
garded the proceedings of the Scotch Presbyterians as an
unpardonable crime against all that he held sacred as a
4 Compare the characteristic letter to Mary tudor of 55{6.-.
Raumer.




MARY STUART.                583
ruler and a Catholic, and yet even he advised that the
Scotch should be supported against the Regent; for an
union of the crowns of France and Scotland appeared more
dangerous to him than even the Calvinistic heresy, and this
consideration at length prevailed with Elizabeth.
Through the aid of England a treaty was concluded at
Edinburgh in 1560, according to which the French troops
were to withdraw. With this, the last obstacle to the complete victory of the Presbyterians disappeared, and Parliament could make the Protestant faith, the abolition of
episcopacy and the mass the law of the land without
opposition.
This was the position of affairs in Scotland when, in the
summer of 156I, Queen Mary, who had been a widow since
December, 156o, arrived in Scotland.
MARY STUART IN SCOTLAND. —I56I-68.
The Stuarts are one of the most unfortunate royal fami.
lies in history. James I. and III. were murdered, James II.
was killed by the bursting of a gun, James IV. fell in battle,
and James V. had to submit to the aristocracy. He died
with the most gloomy forebodings. When, on his deathbed,
the birth of his daughter, Mary Stuart, was announced to
him, he said, "The kingdom cam' wi' a lass " (the daughter
of Robert Bruce), " an' it wull gae wi' a lass." From the
circumstances under which Mary came to the throne, it
could scarcely be hoped that this family misfortune would
yield to a better fate.
The country was ruled by an austere fanatical Protestant.
ism; the Queen was a zealous Catholic; a tone of gloomy
severity of morals reigned in the new Church. Mary was a
young, pleasure-loving woman, in the heyday of life, and
came from a luxurious and frivolous court, which was
regarded by the Calvinists with horror; the country had
ridden itself of the French by force, and Mary was accompanied by French courtiers, jesters, and confessors, who
daily reminded the people that their Queen was a foreigner.
The days of her reception were the happiest that Mary
spent in Scotland. The Scotch have themselves described
how the beautiful young Queen was greeted by the rejoicings of the people. She was a real ruler, after there had
been a regency for nearly twenty years; but in the solemn
processions which went forth to meet her there were many




584      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
things in the devices and songs which breathed the Calvin.
istic hatred of Papal idolatry.
Mary  was soon  to  feel this more keenly. Zealous
Catholic as she was, she would have liked to make her
creed once more that of the whole country; but as it was
impossible even to attempt this, she desired at least to be
unmolested in her Catholic domestic worship and the private
service in her chapel. But the fanaticism of the all-powerful
John Knox would not permit it. He and his party preached
openly against the heresies of the unconverted Queen.
Knox allowed himself to say in his prayers in the church" Purify, O Lord, the heart of the Queen from the poison
of idolatry, release her from the bondage of Satan in which
she was brought up, and in which, from want of true
teaching, she still remains.' And when mass was read in
all privacy before the Queen, tumults took place in which
several priests and persons about her had their heads
broken and their ears cut off.*
Queen Elizabeth watched these events with the interest
of a person whom they concerned more nearly than any
one else. From the time when Mary first set her foot upon
Scotch soil, she found herself in opposition to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth demanded the  recognition of the Treaty  ot
Edinburgh, which Mary absolutely refused. It may easily
be imagined, therefore, with what feelings she watched the
fate of the Queen of Scotland.
She took pleasure in her rival's self-made difficulties, for
they lamed her, and while her possession of the Scotch
crown was in the balance, she could scarcely think of
grasping at the English one. She supported the Scotch
nobles in their opposition, and the Calvinists in their
defiance, while in England she kept both these parties
within very circumscribed limits.  Mary had not given up
any of her projects against Elizabeth and Protestant fanati.
cism; but she took care not to increase her isolation by
giving any challenge to England.
For a time the two Queens thought it well to write the
most amicable and peaceable letters to each other; but,
politically, they were entirely at variance.
Meanwhile, Scotland was itn a state bordering on anarchy,
in which Mary could with di:fficulty maintain her position.
* Eve-n as early as September 8th, I5I, a few days after her arrival
-Raumer.




MARYTS M1 RRIAGE WITH DARNLEY.   5$5
The barons and the Calvinists attempted to overthrow- her
Government with one blow; but this revolt was quelled in
1563.
This convinced Ma.ry that if she took advantage of her
enemies' mistakes she should be able to maintain her
power, but that in the present excitable state of the people
she must not expose herself to attack.
The life she led was certainly not adapted to inspire the
Scots with respect for a crown, the value of which depended
on the personal excellence of the wearer.
In her intercourse with men, she was frivolous to a degree
which it did not require Puritanical strictness to think
repulsive. In the case of such characters, report often
exceeds anything that admits of proof; and if more is laid
to Mary Stuart's charge than holds good under strict investigation, there is so much that is historical that there is no
need to add to it.
To avoid scandal, and to have a support in some man
against the nobles, she resolved upon a second marriage.
There were many distinguished Scotchmen-for a Scotchman it was to be-who might be proposed to her as husbands, and among them were some worthy and excellent
men. But she selected amongst her suitors the handsomest
and most empty headed, her cousin, the Earl of Darnley,
who, as Dahlmann says, " was nothing but that repulsive
object called a beautiful man."  Like her, he was vain,
superficial, frivolous, and a flirt, and as cowardly and
devoid of character as a man could be. He had previously
conspired against her, and now joined her in proceeding
against the conspirators. She was not guided in her choice
by any idea of duty or political interest, but by a fugitive
sensual fancy.
Elizabeth was not inaccessible to such feelings. She had
her preferences, and many a man was pleasing to her; but
when she seriously entertained the idea of sharing her
throne with any foreign prince, she began to consider
whether it would comport with her national policy; and
when an English nobleman was in question, she did not
forget what was implied in raising a subject to the throne.
She flirted and coquetted with Leicester and others; but
would not permit any one of them to become her master.
Mary celebrated her marriage with Darnley in July, I565
it may be imagined how it turned out.




586      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
After the first fleeting pleasure was over, they went their
separate ways. The King, who took no pleasure in anything but coarse excesses, soon joined a set of lawless
comrades, and they played all sorts of pranks, which would
have been unpardonable in any one, and were totally
unworthy of a King. The Queen did not conceal her
contempt for her husband, and they soon ceased to meet.
The only result of this marriage was the birth of a successor to the throne; but, before the future King was born,
the relations of the conjugal pair were disclosed to all the
world by a frightful catastrophe.
Mary's favourite at that time was an Italian, David Rizzio,
who beguiled her lonely hours with his musical talents; the!King, probably quite unjustly, called him her paramournot that Mary was incapable of unfaithfulness; but there is
no proof whatever except her husband's accusations, and
the relation admits of an innocent explanation: she found
a companion and confidant in the skilful Italian, and in
many respects he compensated for what she lacked in her
husband.
He sang well, and she was fond of music; he was a skilful correspondent, and she wanted one; otherwise, he was
not particularly likely to have been the lover of the Queen.
It appears to me that he was nothing more to'Mary than
the secretary who carried on her private correspondence
with Rome and Madrid, and this was why John Knox and
his party were so furious against him. To them he was not
the Queen's paramour; but the Papist in the service of the
Catholic with her plans of restoration.
This relation-unwise, imprudent, but not culpable-inflamed the King's wrath and the thirst for revenge of his
wild companions. A horrible project was formed of murdering the Italian, who during the evening was generally to
be found with the Queen in the ladies' apartments. One
evening, in March, I566, the conspirators entered the
Queen's apartment, some Scotch lords, and among them the
King, not courageous enough to strike the blow himself, but
base enough to cause it to be done by others.* Rizzio
threw himself at the Queen's feet, weeping like a child.
He was dragged into an adjoining room, and dispatched
with fifty-six blows.
* According to the French ambassador's report (Raumer) he,
Darnley, struck the first blow.-ED.




MARY AND BOTHWELL.                  587
It would have required more than human self-control
in the Queen to forget that it was the man whom she had
raised to the throne who had committed this shameful deed,
unexampled in history, before her eyes.
It was intended to appear to the world as a punishment
tbr adultery; thus, while Rizzio was pierced by one
dagger, another was aimed at the Queen. She was then
pregnant with the prince, who was born three months afterwards; and it is worthy of remark, that this weakly creature
came into the world at this tragical time. It was ascribed
to his mother's excitement at the time of the murder that
James I. could not see a naked sword without shuddering.
The Queen naturally entertained only thoughts of revenge
towards her unworthy husband; but there is a long step
from these feelings of hatred to that which really took place.
In public opinion, Darnley had nothing more to lose, but
the Queen had not gained anything. The public feeling
was less favourable to her than before this catastrophe, and&
the Calvinistic preachers raved against her as an adulteress.
Among the men distinguished by the Queen's favour,
there was one remarkable for his rash daring, and, as it
appears, for his seductive talents, the Earl of Bothwell, a
man who stood on the boundary line between a hero and a
captain of banditti, and it was in the latter capacity that he
ended his career. It was his belief that no woman could
withstand him, and his conquest of the Queen seems to
justify the idea; he also held that the end justifies the
means. He was a person whom no one liked, but neither,
before the Queen favoured him, did any one hate him.
His past life and the history of his marriage gave rise to
great calumny, and he was held to be capable of- the
darkest crimes.
With this creature the Queen entered into friendly relations; and, in spite of all the efforts of her defenders, it is still
unproved that the love letters to him are not genuine, that
the scented French verses to Bothwell were not by her
hand.*  So far could the sensuality of this woman lead her
astray, that, in order to get rid of Darnley, she fled into
the arms of his murderer.
The year i556 was coming to an end.  Darnley and the
Queen had not met for months. Darnley then fell dale
* Even Ranke considers them genuine in the main.




588     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
gerously ill, and there were all sorts of scandals as to the
cause and nature of his malady, when it was reported that
Mary was reconciled to Rizzio's murderer, had visited him
at Glasgow, had him brought near to her palace at Edin
burgh in a litter, and nursed him devotedly night and day.
All this was true. But on the 9th of February, I567, Mary
was at a court ball, and two hours after midnight Edinburgh
was awakened out of sleep by a terrible explosion. The
house in which the sick Darnley was lying was blown up
while he was in it; his body was found in a neighbouring
garden.*
In all Scotland there was but one opinion: that this deed
was done by Bothwell. Some suspected the Queen of being
directly or indirectly an accomplice, and her conduct before
and after showed that, at any rate, she approved of the act,
though perhaps she did not help to originate it.
A storm of exasperation burst over the country. Bothwell was openly accused of the murder by handbills in the
streets, and punishment was demanded for him and his
accomplices. The Queen gave a reward to one of the servants who was openly accused of being one; and, instead
of bringing Bothwell to trial, she made him commandant of
Edinburgh. In possession of this dignity, and still a member of the privy council, he conducted his own trial, appeared
before the court with his accomplices armed, and persuaded
the judges, who were all his followers, to acquit him. The
judges, so called, dared to say, among other things, that the
indictment was null, for it described the murder on the
9th of February, whereas it took place at two in the morning of the Ioth. A number of members of Parliament, at
a jovial supper given by Bothwell, even went so far as to
recommend him, a married man, as a husband for the
Queen.
Scotland had scarcely recovered from the excitement of
the murder and this disgraceful trial, when it was surprised
by some news which surpassed everything.
It was reported that Bothwell had, with her consent, carried off the Queen to his castle, and a few days afterwards
that she had married the murderer of her husband, scarcely
cold in his grave.
Nothing can be more disgusting than the lying part which
the Queen played in this affair; she allowed herself tc'Me
A And strangled, so that he had survived the explosion.-Raumer.




ELIZABETH'S TREATMENT OF MARY.   58o)
abducted, acted the part of a prisoner, and then declared
that she had been carried off by force, but that Bothwell had
behaved so well to her, that she had resolved to marry him,
For a woman of five-and-twenty to be ready to give her
hand to her husband's murderer, however guilty he might
be, was to be sunk low indeed.
The revolt now broke out which overturned Mary'throne, and drove her, as a helpless fugitive, into the arm,
of her rival. Elizabeth possessed neither magnanimity nor
insight enough to let her alone, now that she was no longer
dangerous. She did what was neither noble nor prudent:
gave her a friendly invitation, and then let her languish in
prison, which only made her dangerous; for it caused her
crimes to be forgotten.
MARY STUART IN ENGLAND.-ROME AND SPAIN TURN
AGAINST ELIZABETH.-THE CONSPIRACIES - NORFOLK,
x569-72.
It was a strange resolve of Mary's to fly to England.
Elizabeth had been pronounced illegitimate by the Pope,
and therefore incapable of reigning; the negotiations between her and Mary as to the succession in England had
not led to any result; the Queen looked upon Mary as an
inconvenient rival, the nation as its bitterest enemy. Her
history and reputation made it unlikely that a rebellion of
the Catholics would be excited in her favour against Elizabeth. Mary's resolution, therefore, could only have been
formed in a moment of excitement, and was not based upon
any sound political considerations.
She was soon bitterly punished for it. She had stormed
Elizabeth with letters; she had sent her complaints against
the Scotch nobles, urgent entreaties for help, assurances of
devotion, and descriptions of her pitiful condition, as if she
thought that Elizabeth could have no other idea than to
relieve her in her distress, to defeat her enemies, and replace
her on the throne with English arms.
Elizabeth was too much of a Tudor not to disapprove the
revolt of the barons under Moray; her opinions on the
sovereignty of rulers were almost as strict as those of the
Stuarts; but there was a long way from these sentiments to
undertaking the restoration of Mary.
The fugitive Queen was not received in an uifriienll




590      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
manner.  Elizabeth allowed her to be greeted or. the
frontier with the honours pertaining to her rank, and accom.
panied to Carlisle; but there she was imprisoned, and the
series of Elizabeth's errors begins.
AMary was kept in a state of mild, but well-watched imprisonment, which she felt all the more keenly, because it
was pretended that she was only watched. Elizabeth had
chosen a course which was half legal, but which could
neither conciliate Mary, nor make her harmless; indeed, it
was just this mode of imprisonment which made her dangerous, for, for eighteen years, she was the soul of a series of
conspiracies which only increased the painfulness of her lot.
It was a spot on Elizabeth's character that she betrayed the
confidence of an unhappy woman who sought her help, and.
placed her enemy in an attitude of self-defence. Either
that which it was afterwards thought necessary to do
should have been done at once, or the world's reproach
should have been averted by conciliation and magnanimity,
which would at the same time have rendered Mary
harmless.
Womanlike, Elizabeth chose a middle course, which,
instead of having the advantages she desired, had precisely
the disadvantages she wished to avoid.
Mary was enough under restraint to learn to hate Elizabeth
as her mortal enemy, but enough at liberty to set conspiracies on foot against her.
Elizabeth had no intention of re-instating Mary upon
the throne of Scotland, but declared herself ready to do
so if the conflicting parties would submit to her arbitration,
and Mary should be pronounced innocent of Darnley's
murder; but she absolutely refused her the desired permission to go free to France or Scotland.
After this Mary knew where she was. She wrote a proud
and queenly letter to Elizabeth, reminding her that she came
to find a helper in her, not a judge. Then she turned to
the kings of Spain and France for help against the Queen
of England; but this step brought no succour. Philip IT.
was prevented  by  the Moriscoes, Charles IX. by the
Huguenots, and the only effect of it was to cause Elizabeth
to remove the prisoner further from the frontier to Bolton
Castle for greater security.
A fruitless attempt at arbitration was followed by the long
series of plots and projects, the last and greatest of which le(l




NORFOLK'S CONSPIRACY.                59
to Mary's execution, This contest of eighteen years with her
rival and her adherents, and the necessity at last of getting
rid of her, was the consequence of Elizabeth's first false
step.
The first conspiracy proceeded from the House of Norfolk and others of the highest English nobles. The House
of Norfolk had distinguished itself, partly at the head of
affairs, and partly in the opposition, ever since the time of
Henry VIII., and one of the members of it had played
such a part as no other English magnate has done. A
project was now formed by his grandson which would
have united all the elements hostile to Elizabeth under one
banner.
The Duke of Norfolk had numerous adherents among
the Catholics of England, although himself, as he declared
upon the scaffold, a Protestant; there were advocates of his
cause in the Queen's council, Spain and France were in his
favour, and he had a project for securing the crown of
Scotland for his family, and, after Elizabeth's death, that of'
England also, by gaining the hand of Mary Stuart. He
was possessed of brilliant talents, was skilful in gaining
adherents to his cause, and the past history of his house, as
well as the number of his supporters among the highest
aristocracy, justified him in aspiring to these projects. In
reality, indeed, all this was but a web of self-deception.  The
Scotch scornfully rejected his advances at the first mention of them; it was as great a folly to reckon upon Elizabeth's consent as upon help from  France arnd Spain; -11
that was certain was, that Mary wrote him the tenderest
letters, and that some of the English aristocracy were ready
to take up arms in his favour.
This was Mary's first plan of rescue.  It coincided with
a crisis in England's foreign policy.  Elizabeth had detained
Spanish ships which had taken refuge in English harbours
from the Sea-Beggars, and seized the money Nwhich the Duke
of Alba was eagerly expecting.  In revenge, Spain had
made reprisals, both countries had declared war, and a
Spanish invasion was expected. If it came to an irreparable breach, Mary and  all her adherents would stand
between two fires.  In order to avert this, the conspirators,
especially the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Arundel,
laboured to compass the fall of Cecil, who was the soul of
all measures in favour of Protestantisml, and against the




592     THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
Catholic powers. They succeeded not only in this, but in
inducing the Queen to enter into negotiations for a reconciliation with Spain and Mary; but during these negotiations the conspiracy was betrayed.
Elizabeth was beside herself, when she learnt what had
happened, and was intended to happen among her most
intimate advisers. So long as anything was hanging in the
balance, she vacillated, and tried to find resources in half
measures, not without a certain duplicity; but at critical
moments her masculine and resolute presence of mind
never failed her, and did not fail her now.
Mary was immediately placed in stricter confinement at
Coventry, and in order to be prepared against any attack by
sea, the coast was guarded by seven of the largest ships ot
war, the land forces were summoned, and everything placed
in readiness.
The Duke of Norfolk, seized with sudden faint-heartedness, came to London on a summons from the Queen, and
was thrown into the Tower.  Meanwhile the Duke of
Northumberland and the Earl of Westmoreland effected a
rising in the north of England; the Catholics among the
nobilitl and people of England joined them, and, preceded
by a fiture of Christ crucified, they swarmed over the
country, rushed into the churches, burnt the Bibles and
Prayer-Books, and again introduced the mass.  The
Catholic arms had just been victorious over the Huguenots
in France: it seemed as if there was to be a similar reaction in the north of England, which might perhaps turn to
the advantage of Alba in the Netherlands. But the Queen's
general, Thomas Ratcliffe, confronted the rebels and routed
them without difficulty.  The revolt was entirely quelled
and the leaders had fled, when Pius V. hurled his ban at
the heretical Queen and absolved her subjects from their
oaths and fealty.
Queen Elizabeth answered this assault by a unanimous
vote of Parliament, which declared every attack upon the
legitimacy of the sovereign to be high treason, every assault
on the Anglican Church a crime against the State.
Meanwhile, Norfolk, on a solemn promise to renounce all
thoughts of marriage with Mary, was placed in less strict
Imprisonment; but the conspiracy went on and assumed
very serious character. Besides the correspondence with
Mary, there were negotiations with Spain and Rome




ATTITUDE TOWARDS SPAIN AND ROME.  593
carried on by a Florentine banker, Ridolfi, which vere
countenanced by a large number of the nobles. Norfolk
promised to go over to Catholicism; to place himself at the
head of a Catholic conspiracy to liberate Mary and dethrone
Elizabeth; Spain promised a considerable number of troops.
Alba was of opinion, that unless Elizabeth's person were
secured, the revolt would share the fate of the last, and
that it was not advisable for Spain to interfere until that
was done.
In Spain it was greatly feared that the scheme for Elizabeth's marriage with the Duke of Anjou might succeed, and
thus both empires would be united against Spain. It was
therefore necessary before all things to capture or murder
Elizabeth, and in July, 157I, Philip II. was discussing the
subject with his council, when in England the whole plot'
was discovered; Norfolk was again in the Tower, and this
time to leave it only for the scaffold, in June, 1572.
This was a death-blow to the aristocratic party; similar
attempts were made during the following years, Rome and
Spain did not relax their efforts, but they did not find sufficient followers in England; by degrees Elizabeth was forced
into the camp of the irreconcilable enemies'of Catholicism.
ELIABETH'S FORCED ENMITY TOWARDS SPAIN AND ROME.
1572-85.
The next few years passed in perpetual irritation with the
Catholic powers, conspiracies and attempts in favour of
Mary, and vigorous measures of self-defence on the part of
Elizabeth.
The contest between the two Queens assumed more and
more a character of personal hostility, and Elizabeth became
more and more convinced that she and Mary represented
two great principles entirely opposed to each other. The
designs of Spain and Rome allowed her to entertain no
doubt of it, and the continuance of the plots compelled her
tX defend herself from foes where she had hitherto sought
iriends, and to look for support in quarters where she had
hitherto met with refusals or an attitude of indifference.
Shortly after the Spanish-Roman scheme of getting rid of
Elizabeth, and English Protestantism was frustrated by the
execution of Norfolk, came the news of the massacre of St.
Bartholomew. France had been suing for the friendship ot
38




594      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
England, a marriage scheme had been zealously advocated,
and now came the news of this terrible massacre. A cry of
rage and horror was raised throughout England and Scotland; th. aged Knox, who had one foot in the grave, again
ascended the pulpit to testify against the horrid deed.
Elizabeth and her council received the French Ambassador
in mourning; she told him that France had betrayed her,
and that she could but fear that those who had made the
King of France the assassin of his own subjects, would
make no difficulty of sacrificing her —a foreign Queen.*
After this experience, it seemed to be a necessary policy
of self-defence for Elizabeth to assist the Beggars in the
Netherlands, and the Huguenots in France to the utmost
of her power; their enemies were hers also, and reconciliation was no longer possible.
All this re-acted on Mary's fate. Soon after the discovery
of the Norfolk plot, it had been openly said, that the axe
must be laid to the root of the tree, that she who was the
plotter of all this mischief must be put out of the way.
Protestant theologians proved from the Bible that Mary
had forfeited her life; the lawyers referred to the laws
against treason and revolt, and both Houses of Parliament
desired that a bill of attainder should be brought in against
the prisoner. Elizabeth rejected all these demands, but it
was doubtful how long she would be able to do so.
Mary's situation had already become so hopeless that her
imprisonment appeared like a sort of protection against the
passionate revenge of the English people, while her overzealous friends were always adding to her misfortunes.
The year 1576, again brought to light a great plan for a
rescue. The hero of Lepanto, the chivalrous Don John of
Austria, had early conceived an enthusiastic desire to
liberate the martyr of the Catholic faith from the hands of
the heretics. Rome gave him her blessing on a project so
pleasing to God. Catholic Ireland hoped for a Spanish
King.  Mlary offered him her hand, and was ready to deprive her son of his right to the throne, if he were not a
strict Catholic. Things were more favourable to Mary in
S-'otland than ever, since her most dangerous enemies,
Moray and Lennox, were out of the way; in short, if the
hew Stadtholder of the Netherlands could reckon upon his
* Mignet, ii. 85, according to the correspondence of the Frenc
ambassador, La Mothe.-Fenelon, v. 122.




B<t;ACH WITH{ SPAIN.              595
brother Philip II., if he threw all his power into the scale in
favour of the plan, there wouild be a, prospe~ct of an immense
change throughout the north. But Philip II. hesitated, and
the favourable momentt passed by.
This state of secret warfare continued for years. There
was no end to the conspiracies and schemes.of invasibon-,
the Spanish Ambassador, Mendoza, in London, held the.
threads of them all; there was increasing prospect of their
success from the increasing excitement in Scotland, the
successes of the Guises in  France, the conquests of
Alexander Farneseg won partly by the sword and partly by
diplomacy; everything pointed to an open breach with
Spain, which atliength took place. Elizabeth dismissed the
Spanish amnbassador, concluded a treaty' with' the Netherlands, and dispatched Leicester with English troops to
Vliessingen, and Francis Drake to the West Indies, x585-6.
England's part in. the great conffict of the age was irrevocably- decided on, and sentence.pased upon Mary Stuart.'
TRIL AND ExECUTION OF MARY STUARAT,.1586-7.
These acts of Elizabeth gave tardy expression to the
prevailing feeling. of the whole of Protestant England.
Amidst continued thieats of the disturbance of the -public
peace, the fanaticisma of the age, the desire for, religious
persecution was again awakened; the people tretnbled for
the Queen's life, for, it was the security of all Protestants
against Spanish tyranny, rejoiced at the execution of the
traitors,' and were always urging'more decisive measures.
Parliament was the organ of these sentiments, and. required
rather the curb than the, spur; Elizabeth had much trouble
in restraining its zeal.
But the situation, especially after the beginning of the
eighth decade, had'become so gloomy that it would have
been intolerable for long.
The threads of ~ome conspiracy -were discovered almost
every year, always originating with the same pxtfies and
having the same end in view-the liberation of Mary,
the assassination of Elizabeth, and the restoration of Cathdlicism in England.
No end to all this could be f6reseen, for since 1570
there had been senffinaries in Rheims and Rome established
by emigrant English Catholics in the interests of the con,




596      THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND.
spiracies against the Protestant Queen; they bound themselves by oath against her, and every year sent a number of
fanatical apostles over to the country. Parliament issued
stringent decrees, the courts passed sentences without
mercy, but they could not uproot the evil. In I585, Parliament threatened that if another conspiracy were formed,
the nation would be justified in striking a blow at the chief
author of the mischief, when the last plot was discovered,
which made Mary's catastrophe inevitable.
Philip II. and the Duke of Guise were of opinion that
the time was come for gravely entertaining the long-projected, but oft-delayed, scheme of invading England and
effecting a revolution in Scotland; but they agreed that
there was no hope of success while Elizabeth was living.
The murder of the heretical Queen must precede every
invasion of the country.
In the circles of the rejected priests and the Catholic
nobility, they had long been familiar with the idea, and
relied on the support from abroad which Spain and Rome
seemed likely to offer.
John Savage, formerly an officer who had fought under
Parma in the Netherlands, and had afterwards been persuaded in the seminary at Rheims that the murder of
Elizabeth would be a work more pleasing to God and man
than any other, and Anthony Babington,'an influential
gentleman, undertook the conduct of the plot. The latter
took a considerable number of persons of the same way of
thinking into his confidence, and Mary Stuart, now under
the care of a harsh Puritan named Paulet, was initiated into
the scheme.'It has been proved that she was not only
acquainted with the details of the project for her own
rescue, but with the scheme for Elizabeth's assassination,
and that she had' no more objection to the one than the
other. It is singular that the conspirators, who must have
known how much they were risking, were deceived as to'Jhe trustworthiness of their confidential agents.  Those
who were intrusted with the most secret commissions were
in the pay of Walsingham, the most shrewd and wily of
Elizabeth's ministers; not a despatch was written by Babington or Mary, which was not at once handed over to him
and deciphered by one of his agents.  Walsingham was
earlier and better instructed in all the details than the
conspirators themselves, and it would have been easy for




PLOT OF SAVAGE AND BABINGTON.    597
him to stifle the plot in the bud; but his plan was to let it
go on untll there were written proofs of unpardonable complicity against all, and especially against Mary, and then to
step in.* It may be said that under his fostering care the
conspiracy assumed larger proportions, the audacity of the
authors of it increased, and all was so arranged that
nothing was wanting but the attack and the thrust of a
dagger, to put a" en, to Elizabeth's life, when Walsingham
appeared before her with irrefragable proofs, and urged
those in power to take extreme measures to avert the
catastrophe.
The heads of the conspiracy fell unsuspectingly into the
hands of his myrmidons, and, overpowered by the proofs of
their gudAt, they coflssi 1. and in September, i586, were
one and all executed.
On the I4th of Octobe, the trial of Mary Stuart began.
The act of Parliament of 1585 was taken as the basis of
the proceedings whereby persons in whose favour a rebellion was attempted, by whom any attempt was made on
the life of the Queen should be deprived of their rights,
and if they had personally taken part in it should forfeit
their lives. This already pronounced sentence of death on
Mary; and if it had depended on the nation alone, it would
have been confirmed by an overwhelming nmajority.
The popular conception of the case was simply this:
England had enjoyed years of peace and quiet under a
happy and prosperous reign; then a band of assassins and
conspirators, equal to any wickedness, had invaded the
country, seeking to overthrow the government, to place a
guilty woman on the throne, and to give England up to the
Spaniards and Jesuits. For eighteen years war had been
waged with these rebels; proofs of their guilt were now in
hand and the leaders secured; the heads of the instruments had been struck off, as a matter of course the
instigator must share the same fate.
When the catastrophe was inevitable, Mary behaved
with more coolness and composure than she had ever done
before; and this explains the fact that so many dark spots
have been overlooked in the life of this unhappy woman.
She rejected a trial, did not at first defend herself at all,
insisted upon her rank as Queen, with the emphasis of a
Stuart, and played with great dignity the part of an inno* Mignet, ii. I57.




598      THE REFORMATION IN E1NGLAND.
cent person dying for her faith and her right to the crown.
The, proceedings were informal, and showed that it was less
a case of a legal sentence than an -act of political necessity.
It' was, in fact, as -Robespierre said of the trial of
Louis XVI,, " une mesure de salut public X prendre."
Elizabeth was not indifferent as to what the world would
say of her conduct; and would have fain appeared as
the magnanimous person. who would have given anything
to save Mary, but wdS compelled by the nation to let- the
law take its course. But she could not keep up this appearance, if she gave her consent to the execution of the
sentence. It would have been a great relief, to her if Mary
had been. secretly put out of the way; it would have delivered her from  her rival without loading her with the
world's hatred. There is no doubt that she' expressed her-.self cautiously and in a double-tongued way about the.execution of the sentence, thereby betraying how gladly
she would have shifted the responsibility to another. The'secretary, Davison, was selected for this part, and he was
not a virtuous hero. Elizabeth signed the warrant, but he
had to affix the great seal. This done, on the 8th of
February, 1587, the- Council had the sentence executed.
Because Elizabeth had not been again consulted about it
just at the last, as. was customary, she thought herself
justified in punishing the obedient Davison as the' guilty
person. He was thrown into prison, and paid the penalty
for the double-tonguedness of his Queen by years of
captivity.
THE SPANISH' ARMADA, I588Y AND ELZABETi'S LAST
DAYS.'The violent agitation of -the Queen on receiving intelligence of the execution of the sentence may be taken for
genuine, consistently with the supposition that after this
transient emotion there. would be a permanent feeling of
relief that the mountain of anxiety which had weighed upon
herself and her country for twenty years was removed.
After February, I587, no conspiracy was formed worth
mentioning; the instigator of the' plots was gone, and if
ever an act was justified by its results, it was so in this
instance. The people of England, with the exception of a
few Catholic noblemen, were in favour of Queen Mary's




THE SPANISH ARMADA.                599
death; the news of it was received with general-rejoicings,
and whatever -of bitter' feeling there might be; was soon'swallowed up in-the terrors of the period which immediately followed. It was a piece of rare good fortune for
Elizabeth that an event which had long been threatened
now took place, and justified the extreme measures which
had caused her-so much anguish; a great attack upon the
island' was preparing by Spain, which would have cut a
different figure had Mary been still living.
Spain was equipping an. immense fleet which was to
repeat the feat of William the Conqueror, to extinguish the
independence of England and its Protestantism, and at the
same time carry out Mary's will. Elizabeth appeared so great,
sposuperior, so equal to the people's expectations in this contest, that, in their eyes, all that was connected with Mary
feU into the shade, and Elizabeth's character appeared in
the brightest colours; the time of her historical greatness
begins in this conflict with Philip II., " the shield of the'Christian republic," as the Jesuits called him.
In a.masterly manner Elizabeth took advantage of those
national sentiments, before which even religious differences
vanished. The English nation, with all that it held' dear,
was threatened with a fearful irruption of foreign barbarism, 
Elizabeth felt herself to be one with the people, and could
therefore reckon upon its best powers and most noble
passions.
Pope Sixtus V. had excommunicated her,.and commnissioned Philip II. to execute the sentence: a hundred and
fifty great ships of war, with 2,620 guns, 8,ooo seamen, and
20,o000 troops were embarking from Lisbon, and Alexander
of Parma was preparing for a diversion in the Netherlands.
The Pope had contributed half a million, and a number of
priests and monks who were at once to begin the task of
converting the heretics.
Elizabeth was never greater than at the time of this:
terrible danger, and in the eyes of the world it relieved her
from the obloquy of the deed of 1587. She was now the
Queen whom England wanted, and for whom she had hoped.
She showed that she had, as she told the Spanish ambassador,
the body of a woman, but the heart of a man.
In the circles of the Protestant zealots, a scheme had
been formed of replying to the declaration of war of the
foreign Catholic Powers, by a bloody execution of the native




6oo     THE, REFObR.IATION IN ENGLAND.
Catholics; but Elizabeth refused to listen to it. She appealed
to the patriotism ofthe whole nation, irrespectiveof difference
of creed, and she was not disappointed. The expectation
of the allies of the! cooperation of Scotland proved false.
The young King James had, indeed, bitterly felt the death
of his unfoftunate mother, but he regarded Elizabeth as a
protection against Spain, and therefore joined her cause.
France remained inactive, and Alexander of Parma was
not Teadcy,rso that the prospects of the great enterprise were
less. favourable from the first than had been anticipated.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth called her people to armns, It was
the first attempt by a government to rely on the defensive
powers of its own people and to await the attack of a
great military power withoutetrained soldiers. It succeeded
beyond all expectation. The country people rivalled the
great towns, with London at their head.
In a short time two hundred ships were manned by I5,700
sailors, and in the counties, the nobles, both Protestant and
Catholic, with their tenants and vassals, took up arms in
accordance with ancient usage; 76,ooo infantry, and 3,ooo
horsemen were soon ready for the conflict. The coasts. were
fortified, voluntary contributions flowed in from all sides.
The people did all they could for the national cause, with
the Queen at their head.
It was a proud moment, one which a nation only lives
through once in its history, when Elizabeth, an Amazon in
armour, appeared, in the camp at Tilbury, and thus addressed
the soldiers as they stood in rank and file:-" Let tyrants
fear. I have always so behaved myself that, under God,
I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the
loyal hearts and good-will of my subjects, and therefore I
am come amongst you, as you see by this time, not for my
own recreation or disport, but being resolved in the midst
and heat of the battle'to live or die amongst you all; to lay
down for my God and for my kingdoms, and for my people,
my honour and my blood, even in the dust. I know I
have the body but of a weak and feeble woman, but I have
the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England
too; and think foul scorn that Parma, or Spain, or any prince
of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm,
to which, rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I
myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general,
judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field'*




THE SPANISH ARMADA.                 601
The dreaded conflict on English soil did not take place.
Destiny interposed, but the events and impressions of this
time formed an epoch for England. The enthusiasm, called
forth by' them was not easily forgotten.
The Spanish ships were colossal and unwieldy. They had
not the lightness of the little English vessels, nor the sailors
the naval training of those of England. The fleet which
embarked from Lisbon on May 3oth, I588, encountered
storms. on the way, and was involved in a number of minor
engagements in the Channel, which, though not equal to a
single eal naval battle, sorely pressed the already damaged
fleet, so that a retreat had to be contemplated instead of
a landing. Storms did the rest, and before Parma could
set out, the Armada was in such a condition that the remnant
of it could scarcely reach the Spanish harbours.
The fate of this invincible Armada was an event of worldwide interest. The remains of Spanish power and prosperity sank with it in the wav@es, and in England, now
the victorious bulwark of religious liberty, a new develop.
ment began. England had found her element, soon to rule
in it as a great power.
Now began the great maritime development of this
country. The time of voyages of conquest and discovery,
when Drake, Raleigh, Howard, and Frobisher gave importance to the English naval power, and colonial possessions
were acquired in the East Indies and America. The
foundations were laid of the gTeatness which was to develop itself during the next trwo centuries. gCmmercial
enterprise, protected by a powerfl feet and fostered by
wealthy colonies in the e st and west, was grealy extended.
It is, therefore, perfectly intelligible that Elizabeth's reign,
and especially the latter part of it, should be regarded by
Englishmen as the most prosperous period of their history.
Fruitless laurels, and severe internal crises had been the
results of the French conquests of Edward III., while the
naval wars of Elizabeth introduced England into her own
element, and opened up the natural sources of her power,
so that her internal prosperityand external importance were
developed simultaneously.
For this reason the English are accustomed to associate
the rise of their greatness with this victory of Protestantism,
and it explains the Protestant hue which the English nation
has assumed since the sixteenth century.




6os      THE REFORKMATIONL IN ENGLANfD.
Seldom has a reign closed so peacefully after long stonnf
as that of Elizabeth (April, 1603), and when we compare
the succeeding period, we cannot fail to be struck with the
skill with which she adjusted those differences between
regal and popular rights by which the country was so convulsed in the following decades.
This was partly the result of the gravity of a situation
before which all minor differences vanished. Still, Elizabeth
had a large share in it. Her government was very economical and well administered. Seldom had a ruler under
difficult circumstances contrived so skilfully to avoid imposing unusual burdens on the people. Then she was prudent
and dexterous in her way of going to work.
She held those sentiments of absolutism and regal power
which belonged to -all the Tudors, but she never challenged
opposition to them by boasting, and took good care never
to agitate the momentous question of the limits of monarchical and parliamentary rights. She well knew  that.their relations were ill-defined, and thought it prudent
never to let them become matter of dispute.
But all this was changed immediately after her death.
During the next reign there was not a trace of greatness in
the government. Blunders, mishaps, and violent disputes
about the rights of Parliament and the crown wer the e orde
of the day.




PART XIII.
THE REVOLUTION AND REPUBLIC IN ENGLAND.
CHAPTER XIIL
JAMES I., 16o3-2 5.*
Character of the Monarch and unfavourable beginning of his reign.The Gunpowder Plot, November, i6o5.-The Contests of x621.Trial of Lord Bacon of Verulam.-The Question of taking part in
the Bohemian-Palatinate War,-The Difficulties of Parli&ment.Address of November, 1621, and Dissolution of Parliament.-The.5panish Marriage Scheme.  Buckingham  and the Prince of
Wales.-Change in the Policy of England.-The Parliament of
162. —Death of James, April, I625.
CHARACTER OF JAMES I., AND UNFAVOURABLE BEGINNINO
OF HIS REIGN.
TT was universally admitted that Mary's son would  be
Elizabeth's successor before her death. Mary's right was
indisputably established through him.
James VI. of Scotland and 1. of England was, the issue
of the stormy marriage of Mary and Darnley, and he was
*'Besides the before-mentioned literature:-Annals of King James I.
and Charles I., i68x. Wilson's History of Great Britain, I653. Sidney,
Letters and Memorials, 1746,  Clarendon's History of th9 Rebellion,
x7o2:  Memorials of Whitelock, 1732.  Clarendon State Papers.
4Rushworth, London, x68a; Thurloe, 1742, and the Parliamentary
Debates,  Compare Guizot, Collection des 1M\moires relatives A l'Histoire de la:R6volution d'Angleterre, Paris, 1823, 28 yols.; Guizot,
Histoire de Charles L., 6th ed. I856; On Cromwell; besides the bio.
graphis. of Leti, I692; Villemain, I819; and Merle d'AubignE.
Carlyle, Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell, 1845-57. Guizot,
Histoire de la Republique d'Angleterre, i854. The same, Histoire du
Protectorat de Richard Cromwell, I855. For a critique on the sources
pee Ranke's Engl, Geschichte, vol. vii.




604       THE REVOLUTION'IN ENGLAND.
born not long after the murder of Rizzio. He was two
years old when his mother escaped to England, and then
had for years been tossed hither and thither between the
leaders of the Scotch nobility.  He had.not given any
evidence of ability as ruler of Scotland. Awkward and
unkingly in person, manners, and tastes, he had with difficulty maintained his position among the parties which were
tearing Scotland in pieces, and the main inheritance of this
period of perpetual warfare was an irritability about his
royal rights, occasioned by the systematic attacks of the
rigid Presbyterians. He had not attempted any interference
abroad; he had even allowed his mother to die without
any vigorous effort to avert her- fate. It was mainly owing
to his inaction and indifference that her hopes that Scotland
would take up her cause were not fulfilled. The succession
to the English crown was nearer to his heart than his
mother's execution.*
When, in July, I6o3, he proceeded amidst the tejoicings
of the people from Edinburgh to London, he entered upon
an inheritance greater in extent than had been possessed by
any king before him.  England, Ireland, and Scotland
were, for the first time, united under one sceptre; anid
though it was not an amalgamation of the three empires,
their union considerably increased the power of their
common ruler.
In this respect, the power which Elizabeth had inherited
was thrown into the shade; but his character made it by no
means likely that.he would ecipse the brilliance of her
reign.  While Elizabeth frequently  displayed masculine
powers, it is often difficult to remember in James's case that
weare in the presence of a man, the impression he made
was so thoroughly effeminate.
He was not wanting in acquirements and'cultivation;
indeed, he might almost be called learned.  He -had taken
part in the theological controversies then agitated in Scotland, and had now and then appeared as an an author. He
brought to the throne the petty literary vanityrof a pedant;
and this, as we have seen in the case of Henry VIII., is
always a misfortune.'There was nothing in his character to inspire confidence
or respect.  His want of manliness, timorousness, and
supineness in gea things and small, his awkward shiftless
0 Migets




JAMES L,                   605
ness, the plebeian vulgarity of his manners and mode of
life, his occupation with trifles and childish whims, al contributed to give the impression of a person whom no one
could esteem orhad any cause to fear.
And.with'all this obvious weakness of mind- and body
were united prejudices about regal sovereignty which almost
amounted to insanity. From these unkingly lips were heard
sayings about absolute power and the unlimited rights of
the crown which would scarcely have beseemed personages.
like Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, and in his case they were
simply ridiculous.
James I. was a fanatical doctrinaire of absolute mon,
archy; he had adopted as an article of faith the doctrine
that the king was a second Providence upon earth, that' all
popular privileges were only favours granted by the throne,
a doctrine which may have the most mischievous results to
a' weak head. His political wisdom consisted in boasting of
these ideas.
In spite of their Magna Charta and their Parliament,
~the-English were not accustomed to overmuch-liberty: the
Tudors had taught them to obey in a way which showed;
what a.strong will might accomplish even with constitutional forms. Even Elizabeth had governed exactly as she
pleased, though her manner of doing so was less severe;
but she had never established as a doctrine, what the nation
had submitted to in fact, nor attempted to settle the contro.
versy as to their respective powers.
The rejoicings with which the beginning of James's reign
was greeted soon.gave place to general discontent. Under
Elizabeth the people had been used to an economical, conscientious government; but now  a careless and easy
method of management was- introduced, which was very
expensive, and soon_ brought the finances into confusion.
The people were exasperated by a swarm of Scotch placehunters and assuming -royal favourites: Elizabeth had had
her favourites also, but they had not been expensive to the
State; While those who helped King James to while away
his time, consumed large sums of money, and were-a disgrace to the-crown.
The complaints about the rapacity of the Scotch, who
" eat up the country like canker worms,"-" were soon so
loud, that the worst results might be anticipated.
Then his position with respect to the ecclesiastical que&




606      THE -REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
tion was doubtful,.though this was less his fault than the
result of the whole situation.
He was the son of a zealous CathoTic, Whose death had
been regarded as a courageous martyrdom for her faith; he
hated the Presbyterians, who wanted to set up an independent ecclesiastical community in opposition to him. The
English Catholics therefore hoped that he would honour his
mother's memory, and grant them more liberty. He had
even given them secret promises to this effect; but his subsequent actions were not in accordance with them. He
had a certain liking for the Roman Catholic Church, and
was awed by episcopal authority; but then it must be for
his benefit, not that of his subjects. He had not the least
idea of making greater concessions to the Catholics; on the
contrary, he made their position more painful, for which
they recompensed him with mortal hatred.
The, remnants of the party of the old conspirators, united
with other persons, irritated by real ox imaginary neglect, in
forming a plan of horrible revenge.
They resolved to fill the cellars under the Houses of Parliament with gunpowder, and on the day of the opening; of
Parliament to blow up the whole of official England by one
stroke, the royal faim-ily, the ministers, and the Upper and
Lower House. It was an evidence of what deeds the party
which had lost its leader in Mary was capable.
The scheme was ready for execution, when a Catholic
lord, who had a brother-in-law among the accomplices,
received a warning letter, in which it was said, among other
things, " Though there be no appearance of any stir, yet
I say they shall receive a terrible blow this Parliament, and
yet they shall not see who hurts them."
The letter was communicated to the King, who was in
perpetual fear of attempts on his life, and always appeared
in a panoply of thick clothes, and he at once suspected
gunpowder. The day before the opening of Parliament the
cellars were searched, and one of the conspirators was
foiund amongst the barrels employed in making the final
preparations, and with a cheerful countenance he avowed
his Christian project.
It need not be said that this affair made an immense sen.
sation, and stirred up all the ecclesiastical hatred which had
been raging in the country for more than half a century.
Parliament, composed of members elected more freely thank




THE POWER OF PARLIAMENT..            607
formerly, gave expression to it in' severe laws against the
Catholics. King James, on the whole, maintained a position between the two parties. He was more severe to the
Puritans than Elizabeth, and the Dissenters called him a
secret Catholic; for in all cases of dispute he betrayed far
more liking for the Catholic hierarchy than for the indepert
dent and rebellious spirit of the Protestants in and out of
England. Still, he would have liked to get rid of the Pope
and his connection with the Catholic powers.
James was not the man to talk of the divine right of
kings; a monarch who was afraid of his Parliament should
not have defied and threatened it, for he was always wanting
money, and could not dispense with its aid.  Yet what
language did he not venture to use!
In the King's speech from the throne, in x609, were the
memorable words, "God hath power to create or destroy,
to make or unmake at his pleasure, to give life or to send
death; and to God both body and soul are due. And the
like power have kings: they make and unmake their subjects-; they have power of raising and casting down, of life
and of death —judges over all their subjects, and in all
causes, and yet accountable to none but God only. They
have power to exalt low things, and abase high things, and
make their subjects like men of chess: a pawn to take a
bishop or a knight, and to cry up or down any of their subjects as they do their money."
Even to doubt the correctness of this doctrine he considered to be blasphemy and revolution; and all this from
a man who could not see a sword without shuddering.
There could not have been a better method of bringing
the delicate question of the relations between the King and
people to an issue, and of compelling the people's representatives to settle -what was in their power, and what in the
King's, than by these blasphemous speeches.
And nowhere was this question more eagerly discussed
than qn' English soil. If there were chartered, and what is
more, exercised popular rights, it was in England. The
mode in which they were exercised had undoubtedly always
taken the colour of the age, and there was a certain oscillation according as the character of the sovereign or the force
of circumstances turned the scale. What had not' Henry
VIII. and Elizabeth succeeded in accomplishing without
Parliament. and on the other hand how the kings had to




608       TFH  REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
submit to it during the civil wars? Nevertheless under-the
Tudors, three' principles were acknowledged to- be in forcethat new laws could nmot be enacted, nor.new taxes imposed
without the censent of Parliament, and that the responsible
advisers of the crown might be called to account by Par,
liament.  -These rules: were thoroughly. established in
the sixteenth century.  Henry VIII, had promulgated all
ecclesiastical laws through Parliament, and Edward VI; and
Elizabeth had  done the same. Thd Crown had often
thrown the responsibility of its acts upon the ministers, in
order to get rid of the odium attaching to them, and so
culpable ministers and corrupt counsellors were continually
summoned before Parliament. Eve-n the principle of the
consent of Parliament to taxation had never been a subject
of disputeo
In short, to a certain extent royal and popular rights had
comported well together, but this good understanding had
mainly depended on the dexterity of the leading personages,
But that an extravagant government like James's, which
wounded the susceptibilities of the great parties, and with a'
most corrupt financial system, proclaimed its intention of
upsetting the usages of public law, would soon put an end
to the loyalty of Parliament was as clear as could be,
especially as it was irritated by the perpetual demands of
the Crown for money.
A circumstance not in itself important, but momentous
in its results, gave rise to the conflict,
Tn CONFLICT OF i32zr
In order to raise money the Crown resorted to all sorts
of devices,' not exactly illegal, but sordid and corrupt.
Besides a shameless trade in patents of nobility, which were
a disgrace both to the government and the aristocracy, an,abuse respecting  monopolies had sprung up which was
a decided injury to the prosperity of the nation. The
Crown-even Elizabeth did not disdain to do it-sold the
sole right to trade in certain articles to companies or indivi.
duals. As is'well known, this -system is condemned both
by reason and expenence a but it was never carried on more
recklessly than under. James I., who in money matters,
openly avowed himself to be a sick man urgently needing
medical aid. This abuse had frequently been discussed in




TRIAL OF LORD BACON.               009
Parliament, but complaints again.t it had always been in
vai.n; now, however, a new and wcrse abuse suddenly came
to light.
The Lord Chancellor of England, Lord Bacon, one of
the foremost thinkers of all times, sold not only monopolies
but judicial sentences, thus making a prostitute of justice.
The evidence against him was so conclusive, that he gave
up all attempt at defence and confessed his guilt in abject
terms. It cuts one to the heart to read the letter addressed
to Parliament in April, i20o, by a man of sixty years of
age, the first minister of the Crown and a European celebrity. It begins with the words:" Upon advised consideration of the charge, descending
into my own conscience, and calling my memory to account
as far as I am able, I do plainly and ingenuously confess
that I am guilty of corruption, and do renounce all defence and put myself on the grace and mercy of your
lordships."
He then reckons up twenty-three cases in which, contrary
to his oath and duty, he had received from parties for monopolies, sums of ~5o,.Jroo, ~200, /64o0, &c.*
This business was of the greatest importance to England.
The disgraceful acts of the Lord Chancellor were only
symptomatic of a whole system of corruption. This trial of
the first minister of the Crown, which was gone into with
great minuteness in Parliament, affected the crown as well
as the accused, the sentence against him was a condemnation of the government; the people began to suspect that
the whole administration was corrupt. It was a great
success for Parliament to have deprived the arrogant King
of his minister.
Another event now took place, which put the finishing
stroke to the embitterment of the nation.
On the 24th of March, x6 3, James's daughter, Elizabeth,
had married the Elector Frederick of the Palatinate, amidst
the rejoicings of the people. Frederick was greeted as the
head of the German Union, and the marriage as the con.
nection of England with German Protestantism. Then
came his election as King of Poland, the defeat of Prague,
the downfall of the winter-kingdom; and James I. left his
son-in-law, now wandering homeless about Germany, in the
lurch, and made no appeal to Parliament for money, while' Cobbett, Parliamentary History.
39




610      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
there was yet time. Instead of helping the unhappy Count
Palatine and his daughter, he scolded the rebels and the
Usurper, and formed the project of marrying the Prince of
Wales to the Spanish Infanta.
A commercial nation is never disposed to go to war foz
remote considerations, but this war lay near the hearts of
the English; it was a struggle against the restoration of
Catholicism which was achieving great successes, it was a
question of the support of the cause for which England
herself had sustained severe trials; this temperate peaceful nation was more eager for war than ever before. But
James held back, not from weakness alone, but partly from
legitimist scruples.  His son-in-law was rebelling against
the divine authority of the Emperor Ferdinand, with whose
Spanish relations he was just negotiating a marriage, and
not with much success.
For the usurped Crown of Bohemia, therefore, James
would on no account do anything; but for the Palatinate, on
the contrary, he declared with great emphasis that he would
do all in his power.
When in January, I62I, he asked Parliament for money
to protect the rights of his grandchildren in the Palatinate,
and to help the good cause of liberty of conscience, he
found a readiness which he had never met with before, but
complaints of the great domestic grievances were now first
seriously urged. Parliament was still sitting, and Bacon's
impeachment keeping every one in suspense, when news
came of the progress of Catholic restoration in Bohemia
and Austria; the new dangers of the Huguenots in France,
and the Protestants in the Netherlands, but notwithstanding
the supplies granted by Parliament, James did nothing but
make feeble declarations and diplomatic protests.
To the discontent with the failings of the administration,
was now added irritation, occasioned by the weakness of
the foreign policy of the government.  The Lower House
took upon itself for the first time to discuss foreign affairs:
the war on the Continent and the errors of the government
on a great European question. It was as yet a long way
from revolution, but it was the first step towards it.
The King accused Parliament of going beyond its privileges, and prorogued it. Previous usage certainly justified
this course, but the nation could not be blanmed for making
itself heard on so vital a question. For forty years an t




T:HE CONFLICT OF 162I.              6II
more it had had a bitter feud with Spain, Hapsburg, and
Rome.  All the plots against Elizabeth-the war during
the eighth decade; the invincible Armada; the gun.
powder plot-ha(l a common source; the nation's eagerness
for war arose from a justifiable anxiety as to the effect
which a victory of their mortal enemy on the Continent
might have upon the liberties, political and religious, of their
island empire.
When Parliament re-assembled in November, I62I, these
sentiments were still more strongly expressed.  The important question whether Parliament had a right to arraign the
foreign policy of the government, pressed for a decision.
The King again asked for money, not really to make war,
but'to continue the demonstrations which had made him the
laughing-stock of Europe.  Parliament would only grant it
on condition that the King would give up the Spanish rmarriage; break up his alliances irrevocably with the Catholic
powers; proceed with severity against the Catholics, and
finally draw the sword in the Protestant cause.
These proposals were made to the King in an address,
at that time of an unprecedented kind. A special complaint was added about the arrest of members of Parliament.
The King replied in a defiant letter to the Speaker, reproaching the House for meddling with things above their
reach and capacity, forbade them to interfere with his
government or in deep matters of state, and especially in
the marriage of his son with the Infanta of Spain; and he
finally declared that in cases of impropriety of condu'ct of
members of Parliament, either in the House or out cf it, he
must reserve the right of punishing them.*
This letter was intended to intimidate the Commons, but
it rather acted as a challenge.  Oae of the members expressed the feeling of the House when he said, "Our
liberties are our freehold, and the fairest flower that groweth
in the garden of the Commons, and if they be once nipped
they will never grow again." t
The House insisted on liberty of speech as an ancient
and inviolable right, and the King sent them another letter
on the I6th of December, in which he said that he would
not hear of rights and inherited claims, the House enjoyed
* Cobbett. Immunity from arrest was granted, " eundo, sedenda,
redeundo."
t Cobbett.




61i       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
certain privileges by the grace and favour of the King and
his predecessors, not by inheritance but toleration.
It is never the true interest of a government to agitate
the question of existing and recognised rights. It is always
a delicate one and was particularly so in England. Four
hundred years had elapsed since Magna Charta was granted,
and it did not contain everything that was now English law;
but the Englishman was accustomed to connect his rights
with this treaty, and to talk to him of favours and concessions that might be withdrawn, was to put the people's
notions of right to a severe test. To maintain that no
rights exist except such as are conferred by the favour of
the Crown is never conducive to the true dignity of royalty.
It is not willingly borne from a powerful ruler; Louis XIV.
and greater men than he, were never forgiven for saying
that the ruler was the state and vice versa, and a feeble
and effeminate King Should never have adopted such
language.
Parliament did not long keep him waiting for an answer.
On the x8th of December, the royal declaration was followed
by a declaration of Parliament, which stated that "the
liberties, franchises, privileges, and jurisdictions of Parliament are the ancient and undoubted birthright and inheritance of the subjects of England, and the making andmaintenance of laws, and redress of mischiefs and grievances, which daily happen within this realm, are proper
subjects and matter of counsel and debate in Parliament,
and that in the handling and proceeding of those businesses,
every member of the House hath, and of right ought to
have, freedom of speech to propound, treat, reason, and
bring to conclusion the same: that the Commons in Parliment have like liberty and freedom to propound, treat,
reason, and bring to conclusion the same: that the
Commons in Parliament have like liberty and freedom to
treat of these matters in such order as in their judgments
shall seem fittest, and that every such member of the said
House hath like freedom from all impeachment, imprisonment, and molestation (other than by the censure of the
House itself), for or concerning any bill, speaking, reasoning,
or declaring of any matter or matters touching the Paxlia.
ment or Parliament business; and that if any of the said
members be complained of, and questioned for anything
said or done in Parliament, the same is to be showed to




THE CONFLICT OF I621.              613
the King, by the advice and assent of all the Commons
assembled in Parliament, before the King give credence to
any private information." *
The first collision between absolute and constitutional
monarchy had taken place at a time when the first only
seemed to have any prospect of existence. Unlimited
royal power had everywhere gained the ascendancy, partly
in connection with, partly in opposition to the Reformation.
In Spain, Italy, and Austria, the Inquisition had helped to
establish ecclesiastical and temporal absolutism, in the
Protestant German states, and the Scandinavian countries,
on the contrary, the fall of a powerful state Church had
raised a powerless monarchy to dignity and importance; in
France, the first strong government which extricated the
country from the confusion of the religious wars, allowed the
ancient States-General to fall quietly into oblivion; nowhere
were voices raised like those in England.
The conflict which arose in England in I621, was in
itself an anomaly in the universal tendencies of the age;
but the protest of Parliament was the announcement of a.
spirit diametrically opposed to traditionary usage.
King James was furious. He immediately went to London,
went down to the House with his privy councillor, summoned
the secretary with the journal book, with his own hand tore
out the protest, and had his own motion inserted in its place.
The House was then dissolved, the chief leaders of the opposition committed to prison; others, like John Savill, taken
into the King's service.
This mode of action laid bare the weakness of a King who
imagined he could annihilate with a leaf out of the journal
book what could not be erased from history, nor from the
hearts of the people.
A contest had begun which was not to end till the throne
of the Stuarts was in ruins.
rTHE SPANISH MARRIAGE. —BUCKINGHAM AND THE PRINCE
OF  WALES.-CHANGE OF ENGLISH  POLICY.-DEATH
OF JAMES, x625.
Meanwhile, the King was overwhelmed with complica.
tions on the Continent. He had asked Parliament for
money to save at least the Count-Palatine's hereditary
possessions, but by failing to fulfil his promises he had
* Cobbett, i. 1362.




614      THE R EVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
caused the unfortunate Elector to lose even them. The
Emperor had dethroned him and made over the vacant dignity
to Bavaria. The English nation was deeply affected by
this blow. The King had acted throughout the whole transaction with incredible weakness and want of character, and
as we now see by the despatches, had also been disgracefully
(leceived, together with the English nation, who regarded
the cause of the Palatinate as their own.
James's weakness in this business was connected with a
favourite scheme, which he did not give up till he had
drunk the cup of ignominy to the dregs. His reverence
for the family politics of the Hapsburgs, their method of
governing, and their conception of sovereign dignity, led to
an eager desire to unite his dynasty with theirs by a marriage,
and in the success of this project, which after the events of
1587-8 was quite unlikely to be fulfilled, he saw, curiously
enlougn, a solution of all the difficulties which encompassed
hirm. He hoped for weighty support in Spain against his
obstreperous Parliament. Spain was to spare him from draw.
ing the sword by helping him in the Palatinate, and the
price, without which it appeared as if the alliance was not
to be had, toleration of the Catholics; and abolition of the
strict- parliamentary laws would have furnished him with a
check upon the Puritans.
The negotiations dragged on for years. James would
not bind himself without distinct promises from Spain, and
Spain, with a clearer conception of the divergence between
the two states, wished, at all events, to assure herself
of the one advantage that England should not take an
active part in the war. So the business came to a standstill.
The King and his favourite, Buckingham, then devised
what they thought a most ingenious plan of breaking through
the meshes of diplomacy. The King had himself, in his
youthful days, carried off his bride under difficulties, why
should not his son do the same, in true chivalrous fashion?
In the deepest secrecy the Prince of Wales and the Duke
of Buckingham set sail for Spain, and appeared at Madrid
on 7th March, I623.
During this singular wooing, which, according to the strict
forms of Spanish etiquette could only be carried on at a distance, the negotiations as to the conditions of an agreement
assumed a more serious character.  In order to gain Spain




DEATH OF JAMES I.                615
over, King James allowed a liberty to the Catholics in England which filled the Protestants with alarm; but Spain was
anything but complaisant, and would not agree to the
restoration of the Elector Palatine, which with James was
the main point, Besides this, Buckingham had a personal
quarrel with the representative of this policy, Coullnt
Olivarez, and so he persuaded the Prince to a sulddenll
departure.
Buckingham had conducted the whole business with the
frivolity of a vain courtier: the report which he now gave
of it was made up of lies which found no credence, and
truths which proved nothing. It was not then knovwn in
London how far Spain had decided to go with the German
Hapsburgs, and the future attitude of England towards
Spain was very doubtful. It depended on the decision oi
the King, or the effects of the report of the irritated Buckingham.
But the Parliament of 1624 consented with undisguised
pleasure to the communications, which showed that the
government was at length giving up this unnatural plan.
It agreed to all that Buckingham proposed against Spain;
and as the King gave way on several old subjects of dispute,
an understanding now took place between the Crown and
Parliament which three years before would have seemed
impossible.
The King's policy underwent an entire revolution. Instead
of a Spanish Infanta, he now desired a French Princess as
a daughter-in-law. Instead of an alliance with the Hfapsburgs, he now sought to ally himself with their opponents;
instead of repulsing Parliament with Stuart haughtiness, he
now made advances to it, and agreed with it on all questions,
foreign and domestic.
In December, I624, the marriage treaty was agreed upon
between his son and the Princess Henrietta Maria of France.
Tames now entered into the war for the restoration of the
Elector Palatine with an unlooked-for zeal, and was pre.
paring for decisive action, when, on the z2th of March, i6a2,
he died.




CHAPTER XLIV.
Charles I., 1625-49. —His Character.-The filst two Parliamuten%,
I625-26. —The War with Spain and France.-The third and last
Parliament. —The Petition of Right, I628-9.-Charles I. without a Parliament.-The Earl of Strafford. —Archbishop Laud. —
The Star Chamber. -The High Commission.-Ship Money, I634.
-John Hampden's Trial, 1637.
CHARACTER  OF CHARLES I.-THE  FIRST TWO  PARLIAMENTS.-THE WAR WITH SPAIN AND FRANCE.
J AMES I. was succeeded by his son Charles I., born
i 6oo.  His entrance into public life had not been very
promising. He had allowed himself to be made a tool
of in the Spanish marriage affair, and had covered the untruths of Buckingham's report with the shield of his name.
He was, however, a different man from his father. He possessed considerable ability, was well educated, had a talent
for shrewd observation, and indisputable adroitness in managing men and things. His characteristics were of that
distinguished, winning, yet dignified kind which we consider to belong to a born prince. His appearance was
kingly and commanding, and he had nothing of the studied
haughtiness of his father, which contrasted so strangely with
his slovenly exterior and plebeian habits. Even his enemies
allowed that Charles was no common man in the days of
his greatest misfoitunes.
Without his father's bravado, he was much more daring
in action. What to the one was but a flattering theory, was
to the other the principle of his life. He was capable of
staking his throne and his life on his principles. His father,
with' all his fine speeches, generally beat a retreat when
things began to look serious. Not so his son; he staked
everything till his crown and life were lost.




CHARLES I.                  61;
But he was less sincere and honest than his rather, whose
heart was on his tongue, and when his words and actions
did not agree it was rather from weakness than insincerity.
Charles knew how to control himself, weighed every word,
concealed his thoughts, and was fond of tortuous paths.
When he was most flattering and amiable it was necessary
to be most on your guard against him. He held insincerity
ahd faithlessness to be allowable in politics, but his home
life was exemplary and amiable. A man with this courage
and talent, these commanding, and at the same time seductive
qualities, was a very different opponent from King James.
The King's first step was to summon a new Parliament,
as was customary at the beginning of a reign. The
themes of the congratulatory speeches were naturally the
inheritance of the late King, the energetic prosecution of the
Palatinate war, and the voting of the necessary subsidies.
With this exception nothing can.be more peaceable than
these addresses and replies. Charles speaks with a winning
openness and warmth which are quite inspiring. He expresses full confidence that Parliament will support the
honour of its sovereign and his subjects, and assures them
in writing that the maintenance of the faith of his fathers
always has been, and always will be, sacred to him. Parliament replied in the same spirit.  On June a2nd a motion
was made for a good understanding between King and
Parliament, when Rudyard said that "the late distastes
between the late King and Parliament were the chief cause
of all the miseries of the kingdom, the first turn of which
towards a reconciliation was given by the now King, then
prince; by which accrued more benefit to the subject than
in any Parliament these many hundred years. What may we
then expect from him being King, and having power in his
own hands? His good natural disposition, his freedom
from vice; his travels abroad; his being bred in Parliaments, promised greatly. Therefore he moved to take such
course now to sweeten all things between King and people
that they may never afterwards disagree." *
But this frame of mind did not last long. When these
ceremonials were over, it was plain to every one that there
were questions on which the views of the two parties were
by no means agreed, that the King wanted monev, and
when it was voted would dismiss Parliament in as friendly
e Cobbett.




618      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
a manner as he had greeted it, and Parliament would by
no means consent to be used simply for this purpose.
The Commons frustrated the King's tactics, which in
themselves were unskilful. It was a more brilliant assembly
than any that England had ever seen. The eminent men who
afterwards appeared on one side or the other were all in
this Parliament. It was one of unusual power,'for it had
been formed in the period of prosperity and independence,
which was the result of Elizabeth's happy reign. The
members were mostly wealthy landowners of independent
position, and they had very little moral counterpoise in
the House of Lords, because James and Charles had
committed the great error of making it compliant, but
despicable, by making peers of a whole batch of courtiers.
The Commons demanded, before proceeding to vote subsidies, that certain grievances should be put an end to, particularly that a pledge should be given that the strict laws
against the Catholics, who were supported by the Queen,
should be enforced. A certain royal chaplain, Dr. Montague,
had distinguished himself by attacks upon the Puritans, who
were numerously represented in Parliament, and the Catholics were the zealous advocates of the Stuart doctrines of
absolute royal power and the grace of God, which were
abhorrent to the Puritans'. It was on this subject that the
first differences arose.
The religious fanaticism of the Puritans drove Charles,
who was burning with impatience to begin the war, almost
to despair. Instead of voting the needful subsidies, the
Commons passed a law about the strict observance of the
Sabbath, thundered against the Papacy, and petitioned
for suspended Puritan preachers. Yet Parliament had consented to the war, and the King was loaded with the debts
which his father had been compelled to incur on account
of it. The doubtful manner in which Buckingham had
employed the English ships had brought the enterprise
into disrepute, and greatly increased the number of his
personal enemies.  The subsidies which Parliament at
length granted were so small that the motion was looked
upon as a vote of want of confidence, as was also the
resolution to vote tonnage and poundage, the most lucrative source of the income of the Crown-it almost amounted
to half-for one year only, instead of as formerly for the
whole reign.




THE FIRST AND SECOND PARLIAMENTS. O I9
Parliament was prorogued, ostensibly because the plague
rendered residence in London impossible, and convened
again at Oxford, a loyal city; but the sentiments of the
Lower House did not improve, although the King had
several times urgently begged for speedy grants, in the
name of honour, security, and necessity. On the 25th of
August, Parliament was dissolved, after a motion had with
difficulty been passed in the Upper House voting tonnage
and poundage for the whole reign.
In February, I626, another Parliament was summoned.
It met under the impression of an unfortunate expedition
to Cadiz, which once more showed that, although the
government was eager for war, it had no efficient soldiers.
Former scenes were repeated, only increased bitterness was
manifested on both sides. The keeper of the great seal, in
his opening speech, spoke of the immeasurable distance
between the sublime dignity and majesty of a mighty
monarch, and the subjection and humility of loyal subjects, called the throne the source of all rights, and the laws
the streams and rivulets by which they were conducted to
subjects, &c. It seemed to the House as if they were
listening to James I. again, only it was more serious, for the
son was in earnest with what was mere nonsense with his
father. Parliament was ready to grant higher, but still not
sufficient subsidies, and not before the abolition of a long
list of grievances which were a severe criticism on the
whole administration. The Duke of Buckingham was even
formally impeached; but with obvious defiance the King
contrived that he should be appointed to the office of
Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, just vacated.
Parliament was ordered to give up the impeachment, and
to grant the money at once on pain of being dissolved.
He even threatened them with "new counsels." The
threat was soon followed by execution, for Digges and
Elliot, the chief accusers of the Duke, were thrown into
prison; but Parliament interfered, and nothing being proved
against them, the King was obliged to release them. Instead of intimidating the Commons, he had only produced
irritation and bitter feeling. In June, Parliament was dissolved, like the first, after it had solemnly protested against
the illegal exaction of tonnage and poundage, and demanded the removal of the hated Buckingham.
The system of force now appeared openly from under




620      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
the veil of half-friendly demands and threats, not so plainly
as would doubtless have been the case had the King had
an army to rely on, but still plainly enough.
Money it was necessary for the King to have at any
price; so, as Parliament refused it, he had recourse to a
forced loan.
A Commission was instituted with full powers to raise
it; the Catholic party advised obedience from their pulpits
and in printed sermons; but the Puritans, who were the
great majority of the nation, eagerly opposed it; and in
many places the loan was openly refused, with an appeal to
ancient national laws. Those who refused were arrested,
and the judges who would not pass sentence on them dismissed. The troops who had returned from the unfortunate
expedition to Cadiz, were quartered on the contumacious to
make them submit; the support of the lawless soldiery was
a new and heavy burden to the whole country. The war,
too, which was to justify all these acts of violence, just now
took an unfortunate turn.
On the occasion of suing for the hand of the Princess
Henrietta Maria for his master, the frivolous Buckingham
had dared to enter into an intrigue with the young Queen of
France. This excited the anxiety of Richelieu, and when,
through Louis XIII., he informed Buckingham  that he
must not show himself in France again, Buckingham vowed
revenge, and persuaded his master to declare war against
France, though they were still at war with Spain. With
one hundred ships and seven thousand men, Buckingham
went to the help of the Huguenots, in La Rochelle, but
conducted the enterprise with so absurd a want of skill,
that after the loss of two-thirds of his troops he had to
return without accomplishing his purpose, covered with
shame and disgrace. October, x627, La Rochelle was lost;
English commerce suffered severely in the war; British
ships were seized; the foolish enterprise was cursed in
every home; and deep and general discontent prevailed
throughout the country.
THE, THIRD AND THE LAST PARLIAMENT, I628-29.-THE
PETITION OF RIGHT.
Since the dissolution of the last Parliament, the Crown
had been getting on as badly as possible. The war, which
the King repeatedly, and from conviction, declared to be a




THIRD AND LAST PARLIAMENT.             621
matter of honour for himself and his people, had brought
nothing but loss and disgrace; and the forced loan had
sown deep hatred amongst the people, without removing
his embarrassments. The scanty results of the forced loan
were drained to the dregs, and it was needful once more to
look about for a Parliament.  Parliament had not been
very complaisant even at the beginning of Charles's reign,
before he had done anything illegal; what could be expected from it now after all that had taken place?
The representatives who assembled in March, 1528, had
some of them been themselves imprisoned, almost all had
suffered from the loan and the quartering of the troops,
and their constituents were deeply embittered by the doings
of the government at home and abroad.
The tone in which the King addressed the assembly foreboded no good. As usual, he contented himself with few
words, and desired the Commons to do the same, "for tedious
consultations at this time are as hurtful as ill resolutions..*.  Every man must now do according to his conscience; wherefore, if you (which God forbid) should not
do your duties in contributing what the State at this time
needs, I must, in discharge of my conscience, use those
other means which God hath put into my hands to save
that which the follies of some particular men may otherwise
hazard to lose. Take not this as a threatening, for I scorn
to threaten any but my equals."
The keeper of the great seal then added that the King
had had recourse to Parliament not from necessity, but as
a favour.
The bitterest complaints of the first two Parliaments had
related to the King's lukewarmness about the Papists; but
these were now thrown into the shade by grievances' of
another kind: taxation without consent of Parliament, the
forced loan, arrest of members and private persons for
refusal to pay unconstitutional imposts, and the quartering
of foreign soldiery. There was now an almost revolutionary
tone in the speeches. The same Rudyard who three years
before, in a speech before the King, had spoken of his dis.
tinguished qualities as auguring good for the country, now
broke out with the words, "This is the crisis of Parliaments; by this we shall know whether Parliaments shall
live or die; besides, the eyes of Christendom are upon us
-— the King and the kingdom will be valued and disvaluedi




622       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
both by enemies and friends, according to the success of
this Parliament. The cause why we are called hither is to
save ourselves. We are not now upon bene esse, we are upon
the very esse of it,' whether we shall be a kingdom or no."'
A very sharp speech was also made by Thomas Wentworth, afterwards Earl Strafford, who had himself been imprisoned for refusing a loan; but-and this points to his
secret designs-he makes a great distinction between the
King and the guilty advisers by whom he has been misled.
Of these he spoke with the greatest bitterness.
In accordance with these sentiments, the first resolution
of Parliament was a unanimous protest against arbitrary
punishments and forced loans. Then, to conciliate the
King, five subsidies were granted him, to his great satisfaction; but before this vote was formally passed, a solemn
petition was granted against all grievances with an appeal
to the ancient laws of the land. The King did all in his
power to frustrate the discussion of this Petition of Right;
he threatened to dissolve the House if it was not ready with
the grants of money within a certain time. He then gave
a solemn promise not to infringe any of the ancient statutes;
it was therefore needless to insist on the petition. But it
was all in vain. The bill was brought in, and passed both
Houses.
The petition professes to be a corroboration and explanation of the ancient constitution of the kingdom; and afterreciting various statutes recognising the rights contended
for, prays "that no man be compelled to make or yield
any gift, loan, benevolence, tax, or such like charge, without
common consent by Act of Parliament; that none be called
upon to make answer for refusal to do so; that freemen be
imprisoned or detained only by the law of the land, or by
due process of law, and not by the King's special conlmand, without any charge; that persons be not compelled
to receive soldiers and mariners into their houses against the
laws and customs of the realm; that commissions for proceeding by martial law be revoked."
The petition left the King the choice either of breaking
with Parliament, or of declaring, by accepting it, that he
had broken the laws of the country, and now consented to
their re-instatement.
After many attempts to escape, he took the latter course
By the royal sanction, the Petition of Right became an




THE PETITION OF RIGHT.             623
authorised interpretation of Magna Charta. In the long
contest as to what was the law, the nation had gained the
victory.
Nevertheless, there was much discord in this Parliament.
The Commons did not desist firom making violent attacks
on Buckingham, and the contest was continued about tonnage and poundage, since the King would not give it up,
and Parliament would not give up control over it. In June,
therefore, Parliament was prorogued till January, I629.
Before it re-assembled an assassination took place, which
was regarded by the nation with the same satisfaction as
the execution of Mary Stuart. The Duke of Buckingham
was murdered by a certain Felton as he was about to embark on another expedition to La Rochelle.
When Parliament met, in 1629, both parties were resolved,
unless an agreement could be come to, to declare open war.
In the Commons a protest was at once made against
Popery and tonnage and poundage. When the Speaker, in
compliance with the royal command, was about to conclude
the sitting, in order to prevent the motion from being put
to the vote, he was held fast in his seat by some of the
zealous Puritans, while other members in vain attempted to
liberate him.
Amidst great confusion the protest was carried. A royal
official, who was sent down to Parliament on receipt of the
news of those proceedings, found the door closed; and
when the furious King sent his guard there was nothing to
be done, for the sitting was at an end. Charles immediately
dissolved Parliament, and in the House of Lords spoke in
a very ungracious tone " of some vipers who had deluded
many in the Lower House, but had not yet poisoned them."
The guilty should not escape punishment.
A royal manifesto declared that all forbearance having
been frustrated by the obstinacy of some evil-disposed persons who wanted to set the nation in flames, the King
would now be compelled, until it should please him to do
otherwise, to reign without a Parliament.
Immediately afterwards ten members of the Lower House
were arrested, and condemned to pay fines varying from
-'5oo~ to ~2,ooo, and to be imprisoned during the King's
pleasure.  Some of them  died in prison, among them
Eliot, whose petition for some relaxation of his imprison
ment was refused because it was not sufficiently humble.




624       THE REVOLUTON IN ENGLAND.
Thus began the eleven years' reign without a Parliament,
and the foundations were laid of the great convulsion in
which the throne of the Stuarts was overturned.
CHARLES I. WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT.-THE EARL OF
STRAFFORD AND ARCHBISHOP LAUD.
It was Charles's scheme to transplant to England the
system which was at that time bearing such brilliant fruits
in France; to set aside, as had been done there, the
interests of the States, represented by Parliament, and burdensome legal usages, and by an energetic exercise of the
royal authority in unison with the sentiments of the masses,
to make himself as popular as Richelieu was in France.
The place vacated by Buckingham's death was now filled
by a greater man.
Among the members of Parliament in the second decade,
together with Pym, Hampden, and Eliot, one of the most
gifted speakers was Thomas Wentworth. He represented
the extreme opposition, and seemed ready to stake his life
for the cause. He entered the Parliament of x62S as one
of those who had been imprisoned for refusing a loan. The
vehemence of his demeanour in this assembly was what
might be expected from  such an experience; but, behold I
Charles now gained this man for his minister.
Wentworth was a reckless and energetic party man, but
did not possess the faithfulness to conviction which he was
given credit for. His pathos was the studied warmth of an
advocate, who well knew how to bring out the telling points
of his case; but it did not come from his heart. His mind
was engrossed with ideas of power and dignity; he had
sought them in the paths of opposition; he found them as
a minister. The opposition could not have had a more formidable adversary.
He was thoroughly versed in the weaknesses of Parliamentary parties and the arts of debate; he wasin every respect well
matched with his adversaries, and hated them with the implacability which the renegade feels for his former partizans.
Then, besides his oratorical powers, he possessed the
talents of a really great statesman. He was born to coin.
mand; in whatever he undertook his talents for organization were displayed, and he possessed more courage than
most men.
He entirely broke with his past history, and as undaunted




THE EARL OF STRAFFORD.                62
as if no ideas were connected with his name, he appeared
as the minister of a system  which he had himself condemned, resolved to look all the consequences in the face,
and if need were, to stake his life. His system must be
condemned, but it must be admitted that he represented it
in an imposing style.
His plan was to invest the British monarchy with the same
absolute power which the crown possessed in France. A wellorganized administration, composed of dependent officials,
protected by dependent judges and an efficient standing
army, was to supersede the joint government of the States,
put down all resistance, but also render needless the interference of Parliament by judicious care for the welfare of
the people. An able, well-meaning absolutism was what he
aimed at, such as Richelieu had established; but there was
this difference: in France the States-General had been
overthrown in the confusion of a forty years' civil war,
while the parliamentary power in England had not only
always been closely in unison with the views of the people,
but had acquired fresh strength during recent reigns.
By the side of the Earl of Strafford, stood another man
who guided the ecclesiastical re-action of the next ten
years. Archbishop Laud was a learned ecclesiastic of strict
morals and personally honourable character; he had not
the severity and consuming ambition which distinguished
Strafford, but he was filled with a peculiar ecclesiastical fanaticism, which was as completely hostile to the sentiments of
the strongest religious party in the country as was the unparliamentary government to old English law.
The element of ancient Catholicism which the Anglican
Church had retained, and which the Puritans wished to
efface, had obtained the ascendant in his weak head. He
was possessed with ceremonial whims and  theological
absurdities, and tried to smuggle a number of hierarchical
fancies into Anglicanism.
In Laud's narrow mind an episcopal ambition was concealed, which, not content with the consecration of new
ceremonies and such comparatively innocent whims, was
continually reminding the people that in the Church as well
as the State, they had to obey an absolute will which plainly
leaned towards a gradual Catholic restoration. The best
hopes were entertained at Rome; the Jesuits held up their
heads; and the court lady who went over to Catholicism at
4b




626       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
once, because she did not wish to disappear "in the great
crowd" of those who would follow, Laud at their head,
hit, with all her frivolity, upon just the right expression for
the sentiments of the great majority of the nation, if not
exactly for the actual state of tlhings, for Laud could scarcely
be called a Papist.
This twofold re-action was too much for England. It
is possible that Strafford's system might have achieved a
certain success, but the people would not bear this perpetual challenge to their national sentiments by religious and
ecclesiastical chicanery. The favoured clergy were playing
a hazardous game. They had completely adopted the part
of trainbearers to the novel absolutism; they advocated
this breach of the constitutional law in sermons and pamphlets, they had a justification ready for every arbitrary act,
and openly proclaimed that an episcopal canon was of more
weight than all parliamentary laws, and that any ecclesiastical decree was sufficient to overthrow them.
This ecclesiastical and secular re-action had in its power,
two tribunals, the Star Chamber and the High Commission,
and fearful weapons they were.
The first was an extraordinary tribunal, which had existed
from ancient times, and had been set up in periods of distress occasioned by internal party struggles. Under Henry
VII. it had been recognised by Act of Parliament, but it
was opposed to the spirit of Magna Charta, because government officials, not judges, had seats in it.
The Star Chamber was the powerful organ of an administrative justice, which was only to be called into use in
exceptional cases, but it had power to decide questions
relating to the property, liberty, and life of any Englishman
without responsibility or right of appeal. It could be
proved that this court had constantly exercised its functions, especially under Elizabeth, but it now assumed a
state of activity such as had never been known before. It
was not defined by any law what was or was not under the
jurisdiction of this court, and English legal historians are
not themselves agreed about it. It was generally understood that forgery, perjury, riot, maintenance, fraud, libel,
and conspiracy* were amenable to it. These were just the
crimes connected with politics.
The Star Chamber had been borne with, because it had
* Hallam, ii. Io5.




STAR CHAMBER AND HIGH COMMISSION.  627
been employed, especially by Elizabeth, with moderation,
and in times when revolt and conspiracies of the most
dangerous kind were common; a Government which had
the great majority of the nation on its side, did not
lose popularity by summary proceedings against a common
foe.
The difference between the practice of Elizabeth and
Charles I. was this, that under Charles the jurisdiction of
this court was increased to such an extent, that the
Englishman's chartered right not to be deprived of his
natural judges became almost illusory, and that the people
saw innocent persecuted patriots, and not criminals in the
opponents of this government.
The proceedings of the Star Chamber were all the more
detested as their obvious design was to enrich the King's
treasury in a discreditable manner. For trifling offences,
besides imprisonment, and the loss of both ears, a fine of
several thousand pounds was inflicted, half of which fell to
the King, even when he was in no way personally concerned. Those especially who opposed the many arbitrary
imposts were brought before the Star Chamber. Thus, in
I632, a wine tax was in favour, and when the wine merchants refused it, the sale of the necessaries of life to them
was forbidden by the Star Chamber until they agreed
to lend the King /J6,ooo, and there were many similar
cases.
What the Star Chamber was for Strafford, the High
Commission was for Laud; neither was this a new thing,
but had existed under Elizabeth, as an ecclesiastical court
for the punishment of those who were considered heretics
by the State Church.
Under Elizabeth, Papists and Independents, the heretics
to the right and left of Anglicanism had been cited before
it, and the latter especially, on account of their political contumacy, had received severe punishments. This was now
carried further and further. The enigmatical position (o
Laud between Catholicism and Protestantism occasioned
the same uncertainty as to what was the true and the false
faith as had existed under Henry VIII.; trivial expressions
by persons in private life sufficed to incur severe punishment. This part of the system also had a hateful fiscal
character; fines were heavy and frequent, and the court
even allowed its severity to be bought off. While indepen



628       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
dents and even lukewarm Anglicans were laid under con.
tribution with the greatest severity, the Catholics bought
their greater freedom by heavy payments.
Apart from Laud's whimsical perversities, there was a
strict unity of purpose in Strafford's unparliamentary government.  The government was better administered than it
had been for a long time, the court was a pattern of citizenlike simplicity, and only hated -by the Puritans because it
had not renounced all gaiety; on the whole, intelligent care
was exercised for the interests of the country and the prosperity of the masses; the taxes imposed had not received
the consent of Parliament, but the Puritans who ruled Par.
liament had enemies enough, and the Catholics, of whom
there were not a few, fared better than in previous reigns.
The resistance of the courts became more feeble; individuals
did indeed protest, but they paid in the end, and among
the officials and ecclesiastics a school had arisen who willingly consented to the royal absolutism. In short, Strafford's
determined but consistent energy had effected that things
were borne which a few years before would scarcely have
been thought credible.
To crown this edifice one thing was wanting, a standing
army. The ship money was to serve to create this.
Ship money was a tax imposed for the equipment of
ships which in ancient times were required to protect the
coasts.  It had always been an extraordinary war tax,
mainly devoted to the maintenance of the fleet, and had
been chiefly raised from the inhabitants of the meritime
towns. But it was now to be changed into a general standing tax, not only to maintain the fleet, but also a standing
army, and all this without consent of Parliament.
In spite of the submissive spirit which had been shown,
it was feared that a time might come when the people's
patience might suddenly come to an end, and in this
case the Government would be quite defenceless without a
standing army. Even the Continental states, which had
never known anything like the English Parliament or Magna
Charta, could not dispense with this safeguard of absolutism, how much less the English imitation of it, which
had had but so short-lived an existence! The standing
army was to be the key-stone of the new monarchy. Even
under Henry VIII. and Elizabeth no one had ventured to
tdeny that such a tax could not be imposed without consent




JOHN HAMPDEN.                 6 29
of Parliament. That it was ventured upon now shows how
far things had already gone.
The sl;ip money was raised, and borne, though not without murmurs. Strafford thought he had conquered; only a
few years of peace, he wrote from Ireland, and the nation
would become accustomed to the Government, and the
King would be a more powerful ruler than any of his forefathers. He thought the people would forget what they
had once called their rights, and become accustomed to be
ruled like the other nations of Europe. There certainly
was a danger of this; and that it might not become overwhelming, a' courageous man determined to give an example.
The English revere the memory of John Hampden, who,
at a time of discouragement and hoplessness, ventured to
stand up for the infringed laws of Parliament.
To forestall all opposition, the King had procured a sort
of formal confirmation of his rights. He had laid before
the judges whether he was not justified in imposing this
tax in case of necessity, for the protection of the empire,
and whether it was not for him alone to decide the question
of necessity, and the judges, like faithful echoes, had answered
him  as he wished.  It was high time, in this state of
universal subjection, that the voice of an independent man
should interpose.
John Hampden was not a man of brilliant talent like
Strafford. He had but seldom spoken during the many
years that he had sat in the House of Commons; but he
was known there as a man of inviolable faithfulness to his
convictions. They might be erroneous; but he was ready
to seal them with his death. But he was by no means a
revolutionary agitator, nor yet a Puritan zealot. He refused
to pay the pittance of 20s. for ship money that was allotted
to him, and appealed to the Tncij'xt. laws of the country.
He was put on his trial, which was just what he wished. If
he lost his cause for himself, it would not be lost for
his country; the public conscience would at last be roused,
and this would be a great gain.
Hampden's trial (I637) excited great attention. The
judges of the Star Chamber were uneasy-even their consciences pricked them; the majority by which he was
finally convicted was very small, and it was not doubtful
which side was the gainer in public opinion. Men began to
talk once more, and with fresh excitement, of the forgotten




630     THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
rights of old England, called to mind all their conflicts with
the arrogance of the Stuarts; morally, the Government had
already forfeited all the results of its exertions.
This was all, however, that was attained. The Government continued to raise the tax and to make military preparations. With many, the conviction of Hampden was a
reason for renouncing all idea of resistance, seeing that in
his case it had failed.
Even Hampden is said at this time to have given up all
hope that things would mend. In fact, if he thought that
his trial would be a signal for general resistance, he was entirely mistaken. It is said that he had resolved to seek a
home beyond the sea with his then unknown relative,
Thomas Cromwell, but that the Government was guilty of
the unwise cruelty of refusing them permission. If such
men were thinking of turning their backs upon their
country in despair, their cause must have seemed hopeless indeed.
A year afterwards an important change had taken place
in the situation. Complications arose which rendered the
realisation of hopes which had seemed totally improbable
more likely, and once more it was the unfortunate endeavour to bring about a reaction in minor ecclesiastical
matters which occasioned the storm.




CHAPTER XLV.,
THE TURN OF EVENTS.
The Complications in Scotland, I637-39. —The Tumult at Edinburgh.
-The Covenant, I638.-The General Assembly at Glasgow,
November, I638.-The Fourth Parliament, T64o. —The Long
Parliament.-First Measures against the Policy and Representatives of Strafford's System.-Indictment, Trial, and Execution of Strafford, May, I64I.
COMPLICATIONS IN SCOTLAND.-TUMULT AT EDINBURGH.
-THE COVENANT, THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY, THE RETREAT OF CHARLES, AND THE FOURTH  PARLIAMENT.
APRIL, I640.
BEFORE Charles I. learnt to make Scotland a counterpoise to England, and to keep one nation in check by
means of the other, he had regarded Scotland as an English
province which would submit to regulations common to the
two countries with a better grace than England. This arose
from a great misunderstanding of their relations with each
other.
The Scotch nobles, with their extensive possessions, and
great power over submissive vassals, could much more
easily than the English resolve upon armed resistance to
the crown; and during the minority of James they had become very unruly. Together with this overbearing aristocracy there was a clergy, who since the time of Knox had
been filled with almost republican ideas of self-government.
The two foes, therefore, of the king's autocracy in England
were even more powerful and more dangerous in Scotland.
What course did Charles take in order to control them?
He attempted to put the country into the power of a highly
privileged state church, to intrust the highest offices in the
state to a number of prelates, who were to keep the nolles
and the Presbyterians in check by the same means and on




63*    THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
he same principles as those employed by Laud and his
party in England. One archbishop was made Chancellor,
nine bishops composed the privy council, prelates were in the
treasury and in the highest courts. This gave great offence
to the ambitious nobles, and occasioned great excitement
among the inferior clergy who ruled the masses.
Instead of liberty of preaching, which was the usage,
strict -episcopal jurisdiction was introduced; instead of
synods, presbyteries, and all sorts of other civic and ecclesiastical liberties, prelatical despotism was to be the order
of the day; the existing state of things had prevailed for
thirty years; the system which was now to replace it, and
had partially replaced it under James I., implied a complete
revolution, the worst of which was still unknown, and all
this was the work of " Popery," the very sound of which
made the Presbyterian blood boil.
Ever since I635, when the canons respecting the judicial
authority of the bishops were proclaimed, an ominous uneasiness was observable; but when the catholicising liturgy
was introduced, which had given so much offence in England, the outbreak took place.
When divine service was performed for the first time in
July, I637, in the Cathedral of Edinburgh, according to the
hated method, a noisy mob rushed in, exclaiming, "A pope,
a pope! Antichrist, stone him! " they threw chairs at the
bishop, insulted the clergy, and, after being with difficulty
turnedl out, they filled the whole city with scenes of tumult, and
the bislhops scarcely escaped being stoned on their way home.
There was no European country where the masses were
so ruled by Calvinism  as in Scotland, but the indignation
wllich showed itself in these stormy scenes surprised both
friends and foes.  The whole nation made the cause of the
mob its own. Balaam'i ass, as it was said in every pulpit,
was otherwise a stupid beast, but, to the astonishment of
everybody, the Lord loosed his tongue.
Charles remained firm to his purpose in spite of all representation; he proclaimed an amnesty, but declared at the
same time that he hoped for ready submission to the liturgy,
and so that took place which was now inevitable. Representatives of the greater and lesser nobles, the clergy, and te
towns, met together and formed a provisional government,
which found willing obedience throughout the country, and
signed a covenant against any religious innovations, " To the




THE COVENANT.                  633
greater glory of God and the salvation of their King and
country." The whole nation joined in it without distinction
of age, rank, or sex; even the highest nobles did not hold
back, for they feared that they should be left in complete
isolation if they did not follow the stream. This was the
famous Covenant of the ist of March, I638.
The King was compelled to give way, for he stood without
an army, between two nations-one of which was in a state
of discontent, the other in open rebellion. The way in
which he retreated, step by step, from the growing demands
of the Scotch, showed that he was only succumbing to
necessity and betrayed his real weakness. Of all the modes
of settlement proposed by Charles, the only one accepted
was a General Assembly, which he hoped to be able to turn
to his own purposes, but at its first meeting it almost openly
proclaimed revolution.
Amidst a vast concourse, the General Assembly was opened
at Glasgow, on November 21st, i638. After the previous
experience of the Royal Commissioner, Hamilton, the spirit
of the proceedings might easily have been foreseen. The
first act of the assembly was to bring an accusation against
all the bishops, of heresy, sirnony, bribery, perjury, deceit,
bloodshed, adultery, fornication, drunkenness, gaming, sabbath-breaking, &c. When the bishops protested, the Royal
Commissioner dissolved the assembly for going beyond its
province; it met again, and declared the episcopal power,
the high commissioners, the canons, the liturgy, everything,
in short, which the last two Stuarts had re-introduced into
the Scotch Church, null and void.
The King now seemed to intend to resort to arms. A fine
army of 20,000 foot, 6,ooo horse, supported by a fleet
manned by,0,ooo men, was raised, and was to summon the
rebels into the field again, when Charles suddenly changed
his mind. The fear of a revolt in his rear, the conviction that
he was not strong enough to subdue two nations, one only of
which was at least a match for his troops, caused him to
turn round. He yielded to the Scots, conceded all that the
General Assembly had demanded, and was disposed again
to try an English Parliament, which should grant him the
means for a war with Scotland, a fatal step, for if it failed it
was sure to result in just what he wished to avoid. It was
certain that the Scots would remain under arms, and pro
bable that the Engltih would begin to defend themselves.




634       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
For ten years the laws of the land had been set at def ance.
It was only the difficulty with Scotland which had caused
them to be respected again. The cause of Scotland was
also the cause of the English opposition. What could be
expected from a Parliament assembled under such circumstances?
The fourth Parliament of the reign of Charles I. was opened
on the I3th of April.
The King had generally been in a great hurry to ask for
money, and this time he could not brook the least delay.
" Never," he said "has a king had more serious and urgent
need to appeal to his people than I at this moment." On
account of a letter having been intercepted from some Scotch
lords to the King of France, the Lord Keeper, Finch, demanded the means for a campaign against the Scotch traitors,
which was to take place during the summer of the same year,
but the urgency of these appeals contrasted strangely with
the inevitable assurance that the Parliament owed the honour
of being called together solely to the paternal favour of the
most just, most religious, and most gracious of princes.
With this exception, the speech was as gracious as the
former ones, and contained besides, the assurance that the
grievances should be redressed-if the subsidies were first
granted.
Parliament was not taken in by this. It now comprised
members who especially condemned the system of Strafford
and Laud. Even those who, compared with the Puritans,
might be called Royalists, were now in the opposition.
They afterwards separated, but at that time there was but
one party in the assembly, and it abhorred the existing
regime.
It is highly interesting to watch the proceedings of this
short Parliament, to observe how indignation at the abuses
of the last eleven years now found expression. Even had
the House been disposed to suppress these sentiments, the
petitions that poured in from the counties would not have
permitted them to be silent.
The first words uttered in the House were an evidence
of the state of feeling. A Mr. Grimstone declared that the
Scotch business was an evil without, while there was another
within their own House which deeply affected them all.
The commonweal was shamefully trodden underfoot, their
property and liberties attacked, the Church divided, the




CHARLES'S FOURTH PARLIAMENT.              635
Gospel and its followers persecuted, and the country
swarmed with greedy caterpillars, the worst of all Egyptian
plagues, &c.
Pym then rose: he was one of the most eminent speakers
of the opposition; a Puritan in his religious opinions, and
now beginning to adopt their political principles.  In a
speech of three hours he described the distressed state of
the nation. He divided the sins of the Government into
three groups. In the first, he included the infringements of
the liberties and privileges of Parliament during the last
eleven years; in the second, the religious innovations; in
the third, the charges on property. But in all three it was
his wish to maintain the great prerogative of the Crown, that
"the King can do no wrong."  In a pregnant and comprehensive speech, everything that had occurred was reviewed,
from the treatment of the last Parliament to the latest acts
of violence.  It formed a complete bill of indictment
against the system of the past eleven years; nothing was
omitted.
The House next moved for a report of the proceedings
against certain members of Parliament, and appointed a
committee upon the infringement of the privileges of Parliament, and all other grievances collectively.
The King urged that the subsidies should be granted
first, and the grievances discussed afterwards. Flattering
assurances were given about the ship-money, tonnage and
poundage, &c., but it was resolved that the grievances
should have the precedence.  Pym's classification was
adopted, and they were communicated to the Lords. They
were for granting the subsidies first, but the Commons
adhered to their resolution, and after being repeatedly urged
in vain to depart from it by the King, both Houses were
dissolved.
It was the fourth Parliament which Charles had dissolved,
and it was the last.- The next was to put an end to his
reign.
Parliament had revealed the helpless isolation of the King.
By that speech of Pym's the whole character of the system
was laid bare to the country. Every individual had, indeed, had complaints to make, but with the then scanty
press they had been individual grievances. It was Pym who
had first given an exhaustive description of the state of
things from these abundant materials, and a fearful bill of




636       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
indictment it was which was now circulated through the
country in newspapers, pamphlets, and speeches.
Compelled by events in Scotland once more to summon
a Parliament, the King had now committed the gravest
error. He had inspired the hopeless with courage, fatally
elbittered the irritated, and given them by his own acts a
h-andle for a fearful' agitation.
THE LONG PARLIAMENT.- FIRST MEASURES AGAINST THE
POLICY AND REPRESENTATIVES OF STRAFFORD'S SYSTEM.
-NOVEMBER, I640, TO SEPTEMBER, i641.
The King's resources were now on the decline. By a
final effort the courtiers and Catholic priests whom the King
had enriched at the expense of the country were compelled
to submit to a loan, and the campaign against the Scots
was begun. They were already on the frontier when the
Royalists advanced. Amidst perpetual assurances of loyalty
-they only came to lay their wishes personally at the King's
feet-their splendid army crossed the Tweed, and routed
the vanguard of the Royalists on the first attack, so that the
whole army fell into a panic. The money was soon exhausted, the soldiers mutinied, and the King lost courage.
Strafford tried in vain to inspirit him and to persuade him
to a rapid advance which should decide everything. He
was already thinking of negotiating, and a last attempt to
help himself by a House of submissive peers having failed,
he again summoned Parliament.
This was the remarkable assembly called the Long Parliament. It survived the kingdom of the Stuarts, resisted
another powerful government, was several times condemned
to death and called together again; its history is inseparable from the -general course of English politics to the
Restoration.  It was incontestably  the most important
representation that the people had ever had. Not that
there were no weak elements in it —vacillation and indecision were not wanting in its attitude; but it carried on Ae
contest with absolutism with great energy at a time when
it was triumphing in the whole of Europe, without exception, and it afterwards gave Cromwell plenty to do. It was
now in its prime; it ruled England for several years, was
dispersed by Charles, but rose up again over his grasve.
n its debates we do not find a single voice raised for his




THE LONG PAReLIAMT.                635
system; all the men were in it who led the subsequent
movement.
At the time of its assembling the whole situation already
bore a revolutionary character, not of the wild and noisy
sort that prevailed in France-it never came to a mobocracy-partly because the middle class enjoyed more confidence, and had retained more independence, partly because
the Revolution was early under military control, and a
Cromwell, statesman and soldier in one person, was utterly
wanting in France; but excited passions, stormy meetings,
stirring sermons were not wanting in England any more
than in France, there was even a spice of terrorism. Woe
would have been to him who ventured openly to oppose Parliament and its adherents.  The press worked upon the
masses by means of sermons, pamphlets, and speeches, and
London, now a powerful city, headed the movement.
The Long Parliament was ready with a decisive and
systematic attack, not only on the system and its abuses,
but also on the representatives of the policy of the last
eleven years. It was stormed with petitions and complaints against the numberless abuses of the administration,
and again Pym passed them systematically under review;
but it was clearly seen that nothing could be accomplished
without the severest measures against the originators of all
this evil. Laud, Secretary Windebank, Finch, keeper of
the great seal, and inventor of the ship money, were
accused of high treason, and were ordered to be arrested,
as well as the judges who had been subservient to them,
and the lords were powerless to prevent it. Finch and
Windebank escaped, Strafford was in Ireland, Laud could
do nothing; the King found himself already forsaken by
his advisers. In this helpless situation, he was obliged to
give his sanction to a bill which limited his power of arbitrarily summoning and dismissing Parliament. This was
the Triennial Act. Up to this time there had been no definite regulation on the subject. It was now settled that a
new Parliament must be called every three years, and that
no Parliament could be dissolved without its own consent
before the fiftieth day.
As a matter of course, this put an end to the old contests about tonnage and poundage, forestrigiht, &c. The
abolition of the Star Chamber and the Hig:h Commissioi
was also the natural result of the general tendencies of




638      THE REVOLLTION IN ENGLAND,
Parliament. They even went further, and proyosed to
decitrrate the representation of bishops in the Upper House,
and to reconstitute it altogether, and thus to rob the King
of his last support.
TRIAL OF STRAFFORD, MAY, I641.
Amidst these' agitated debates occurred the trial of Strafford. While the storm was brewing in Parliament against
I,aud, Finch, and Windebank, the most dangerous and
guilty of all the King's advisers was lord-deputy of Ireland,
where he was trying to save what might yet be saved. His
idea was to hold his position in Ireland as long as possible,
and thence, aided by the national hatred of the Catholic
Irish against the Anglicans, to prepare a favourable and
perhaps decisive diversion for the monarchy. He therefore
advised the King not to recall him, and, at all events, not
to summon him to London. I am not of opinion that it
was care for his personal safety which induced him to give
this advice, but rather that, if there was still any way of
escape, these were the right tactics for the King, hedged in
as he was by two rebellious kingdoms to endeavour to secure
the support of the third, and to make it the seat of a
counter movement.  It was soon to be shown that to
summon Strafford to London was the very worst thing he
could do.
Very early during the session an indictment against him
was carried by a committee of both Houses, and the King
commanded his presence in London. In Ireland, with the
army, he might still have served the King; but before Parliament the cause of both would be lost. But the King
insisted. He promised that not a hair of Strafford's head
should be hurt, though he could no longer insure his own
safety. It was a fatal mistake to expose his faithful minister
to the fury of Parliament, and Strafford's last words
expressed the suspicion that the King intended to sacrifice
him. I do not say this; but it was in the highest degree
imprudent to sacrifice the only friend he had in the three
kingdoms.
Strafford had scarcely arrived in London when the storm
broke over him. Pymr made a long speech, to show that in
the abuses of the previous eleven years there had been a
systematic attempt to destroy the ancient rights of the
country, and to exchange its chartered liberties for a




TRIAL OF STRAFFORD.               639
modern despotism.  And who was the originator of the
scheme? The  King?  By no means.  With a certain
irony he still held to the dogma, that the King can do no
wrong. He then went on to say that though, doubtless,
many evil counsellors had worked together, one could be
mentioned who took the foremost place in guilt among the
betrayers of the country. This was the Earl of Strafford.
Then follows a long list of sins, in which, according to
the fashions of the time, the blemishes of private life by no
means occupy the lowest place.
Strafford arrived too late to occupy his seat in the House
of Lords, and to prevent the passing of the Bill. When he
appeared it had already passed, and he had to listen to the
indictment on his knees, and then to go as a State prisoner
to the Tower. Not a voice was raised in his favour. Falkland only, his personal enemy, gave a warning against hasty
and irregular proceedings.
The trial before the House of Lords did not begin till
March, I64I. The accusation of high treason was more
easily made than proved. There was no doubt as to what
constituted high treason according to English law; but the
ordinary conception of it did not agree with the accusations against Strafford. According to a statute of Edward
III., high treason was an injury to the King, his person,
family, or authority; but there was nothing about an attempt
to upset the fundamental laws of the country. The other
accusations against him were of a number of separate
crimes which could not be construed into high treason
against the country.
It was upon this weakness of the indictment that his masterly defence was based.
He spoke not only with the power of an orator of the
first rank, he exhibited the repose and confidence of a clear
conscience: he conducted his case as if not he, but his
accusers, were guilty of distorting and wishing to overthrow
the laws of the land, and he also struck those chords which
touch the feelings. It was only for the sake of his children whom he held by the hand, he said in conclusion,
that he had so long claimed their lordships' attention. He
awaited a just sentence, and commended his soul to heaven.
The effect of this speech was so powerful, as is testified
even by his opponents, that the Commons doubted whether
the Lords would find him guilty. They immediately




640       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
resolved upon an exceptional measure.  If there was a gap
in the laws, Parliament had power to fill it up. This was
done by bringing in a Bill of Attainder, which was carried
by a large majority.  A Bill of Attainder declared him
who was affected by it to be beyond the law. It had often
been adopted under Henry VIII., but only as a weapon of
despotism and lawless power. By such a law Strafford was
condemned, and suffered death on the IIth of May.
He met death with the composure and resolution of a
martyr in a holy cause. Without bitterness he requested
the King to ratity the sentence, and only when it was done
he exclaimed, " Put not your trust in princes, neor in th
of men, for in them there is no salvat-io,,




CHAPTER XLVI.
OPEN BREACH BETWEEN THE KING AND
PARLIAMENT.*
hae King in Scotland, August, I641.'-Massacre of the Protestants il
Ireland.-Return of Parliament in October, and the Separation of
Parties into Cavaliers and Roundheads.-The Great Remonstrance,
November, and the unsuccessful Coup d'Etat, January3 and 4, I642.
-Commotions in London. —Tle First Parliamentary Army.-Departure of the King.-Return of Parliament, January I, I642.
THE KING IN SCOTLAND; THE MASSACRE IN IRELAND.RETURN  OF PARLIAMENT.-CAVALIERS  AND  ROUNDHEADS.
ROBBED  of his last weapons of defence, the King
hoped to break the force of the storm  by prudent
temporising, to subjugate his adversaries by causing divisions among them, and, having secured breathing time in
one place, to make himself master of another.
While the Commons, elated by their late success, were
proceeding to effect radical changes in Church and State, to
overthrow the episcopal constitution in the one, and to
limit the royal power in the other, so as to render it completely impotent, Charles had a grand scheme for ridding
himself of all his oppressors.
He informed Parliament that he should go in person to
Scotland, to bring about a reconciliation between the two
countries. His idea was to effect a separation between the
causes of the two countries, to re-establish in the north the
* Forster, Debates of the Great Remonstrance, November and
December, I64I; London, I86o. The s lme, Arrest of the Five
Members by Charles I. History of the Rebellion, by Werth, from
authentic materials, chiefly from Clarendon. Review of it by Forques
" Revue des deux Mondes; " April, i86I, and February, I862. (The
following representation is mainly based upon this.)
41




642      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
royal authority, of which he was so destitute in the south,
to gain a strong party among the discontented, and espe.
cially the royalist nobles of the army just dismissed, and to
collect proofs of high treason against his enemies.
At his desire, Parliament prorogued itself till his return,
but amidst circumstances which plainly indicated great discontent. Before separating, both Houses formed a committee, of which Pym was president. Another committee
was to accompany the King to Scotland.
In the middle of August, Charles appeared in Scotland.
Men's minds were taken by storm. No native king had
ever been so popular as was this same Charles, against
whom they had just taken the field.
Peace was soon made; but, at what a price I Charles
relinquished nearly all the crown rights that he had yet to
lose. It was not surprising that the Scots should demand
the Triennial Bill, since it had received the King's sanction
in England, but the right was also granted to the Scotch
Parliament at the end of every session to determine when
and where the next should be held. It was also to nominate all the King's ministers, judges, and officers of State,
and he had at once to submit to see his adherents superseded in the public offices by his opponents. He even
loaded with honours and pensions the Presbyterian ministers
whom he could never hope to gain for his cause, and felt
himself rewarded when the leaders promised never to interfere in the ecclesiastical affairs of England.
While this reconciliation was going on a fearful revolt
broke out in Ireland, which showed what Strafford had been
doing there.
One of the most serious accusations against Strafford had
been his despotism as governor of Ireland. It was supposed, therefore, that as a matter of course, with his fall
the harsh government by which he had coerced the country,
and made its resources and troops available to England,
would cease. Ireland claimed the same rights that had
been granted to England and Scotland, but, as things were,
this would have produced absolute anarchy, and this was
taken advantage of by the old Catholic party for waging a
cruel war of revenge against the English Protestants in
Ireland.
The Catholic Irish formed five-sixths of the population,
the other sixth being English colonists, and under Strafford's




MASSACRE OF PROTESTANTS IN IRELAND.  643
iron rule, the former had enjoyed a certain toleration of their
faith, and might have expected the same from Charles and his
Catholicising system. But they could not look for it from
the nearly all-powerful Puritans; from them they could but
expect the oft-threatened extermination of " Popery." To
add to this, there was the ancient national hatred, and the
memory of the revenge on the Ulster rebels, whose enormous possessions had, under James I., been conferred on
thousands of English and Scotch immigrants. A horrible
massacre of the Protestants now took place by the fanatical
Catholics. The project had been formed in the deepest
secrecy, and many thousands of the unsuspecting English
were murdered almost in their sleep. The barbarous cruelties
by which this massacre was accompanied, and which were
inflicted by men, women, and even children, are enough to
make one's hair stand on end. The lowest figure at which
the number of victims is reckoned is forty thousand.
The Irish rebels declared that they were fighting for throne
and altar, Pope and King. Even apart from these declarations, Charles's enemies gave him credit for having instigated
the revolt. It was known that he wished to have employed
the Scots against Parliament; it was known that he made
all manner of attempts to draw the Royalists in Parliament
over to his cause, to destroy the leaders of the oppositionwhy should he disdain to bring the Irish into the field
against them also?
We can say almost to a certainty that this supposition
was false. For a conspiracy of this sort projected by the
King himself, a more favourable moment would certainly
have been chosen; and if support from this quarter had
been looked for, the conduct of the conspiracy would have
been committed to such a man as Strafford, not to such
persons as Phelim O'Neale or Roger More, whose loyalty
could by no means be relied on.
Pym, the watchful president of the committee, had taken
care to guard Parliament against Royalist intrigues. In
spite of Charles's great caution, Pym was informed by
Hampden of all his proceedings, and the report which he
made to Parliament when it reassembled, on October 20oth,
was so serious, that it was resolved at once to place London
in a state of siege, and to guard both Houses by train-bands
night and day. This was an obvious interference with the
prerogative of the crown; but this was dexterously dis



644      THIME REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
guised, by devolving the command on the popular Earl of
Essex, who had been intrusted by the King with this office
during his absence. A member, then unknown, but who
excited attention by his vehemence, Oliver Cromwell, proposed to call out all the militia of the kingdom for the defence of the country-the germ of the Parliamentary army,
which he was afterwards to lead.
A further step was taken. The King was petitioned to
dismiss his evil counsellors; otherwise Parliament, in spite
of its loyalty, would be compelled to take measures for its
own security and that of Ireland. By his evil counsellors
were meant Hyde, Colepepper, Falkland, and others, who
had formerly led the attack against Strafford's system, but
were now on the King's side.
This throws a strong light upon the party divisions which
during the six weeks' prorogation had taken place in the
previously compact mass. Against the Star Chamber, the
High Commission, tonnage and poundage, Parliament had
stood together like one man. There had also been an
overwhelming majority in favour of the security and increase
of the privileges of Parliament; and even amongst the members, about sixty, who had voted against the Bill of
Attainder against Strafford, those who were now to show
that the. race of Strafford was by no means extinct, were not
found.
But now two hostile parties confronted each other, and on
all decisive questions there was but a small majority and a
very strong minority; these were the Cavaliers and Roundheads.
The one party consisted mainly of all the Catholics in the
country, who sought in the regal power a support against
the radicalism  of the Puritans-the superior clergy, and
the royalist majority of the aristocracy; the other consisted
of the rigid Protestants in town and country, to whom
religious and political liberty was one and the same thing.
The one party wished to quell the agitation, so soon as the
most necessary concessions were obtained; the other would
not be satisfied so long as the King and popery retained the
least power to infringe the laws of the land, or to restrict
religious liberty.
There was as yet no Cromwell at the head of the latter
party, but moderate men such as Hampden, Holles, and
Pym. Pyrr's standpoint on the Church question is shown




THE GREAT REMONSTRANCE.                645
by his confession of faith in the short Parliament in April,
I64o. He said, " I desire not to have any new laws made
against them (the Catholics), nor a strict execution of the
old ones, but only so far forth as tends to the safety of his
Majesty. There can be no security from Papists but in their
disability.  Laws will not restrain them, oaths will not; the
Pope dispenseth with both, and his command acts them
against the realm, in spirituals and in temporals, ad spiritualia."
His opinions about the royal authority were precisely the
same. After all their bitter experience it was needful to
erect strong defences against the abuse of it, in spite of
Magna Charta and the Petition of Right.
THE GREAT REMONSTRANCE AND THE UNSUCCESSFUL
COUP D'ETAT; NOVEMBER, I641, TO JANUARY, 1642.
These parties were most strongly-opposed to each other,
when it was proposed by Pym and his adherents that a
great remonstrance should be addressed to the King, but it
was in reality intended to be an appeal from Pym to the
people.
In a lengthy and systematic document, of not less than
ao6 paragraphs, Pym drew up a list of all the grievances
under the rule of Charles I.; and on the other hand detailed
the exertions of Parliament on behalf of English liberties,
so that the country should be in the possession of docu.
ments which should enable it to judge between the King
and the people's representatives.  It is noteworthy that
Pym now seems to have renounced the principle that
the King can do no wrong, and had adopted the idea
of his personal responsibility. The tactics of the Royalists,
and especially of their recent accessions, were to make this
question the battle-ground of debate, and to measure the
strength of parties; every inch of ground was sharply contested, single propositions, single words even, were warmly
debated for hours, every pretext for delay of the motion was
eagerly seized upon, as ifit were possible to starve the enemy
by endless debates. This struggle lasted from the 9th to the
20th of November. Men's passions were naturally heated red
hot. When the arrest of members of Parliament came to be
discussed, Pym exclaimed, " Eliot's blood still cries for revenge," and the Commons rose and repeated, " His blood
cries for revenge."




646      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
As the Remonstrance could neither be suppressed nor
weakened, the royalists tried to effect that the King only
should receive it, and not the_ public, and therefore demanded that it should not be printed: but Pymr replied that
the very object was that England might understand the
situation of affairs, and take the side of those who defended
her cause. On November 22nd, after a last passionate
debate, the bill was passed by I59 votes against 148. The
publication of the address was also voted after being vehemently opposed by Hyde and Falkland. After it was passed,
Cromwell remarked to Falkland, "Had the remonstrance
been rejected, I would to-morrow have sold everything I
possess, and never have seen England more, and I know
many other honest men of the same resolution."  A bold
attempt by one of the minority to divide the House by a protest by his party failed. Palmer who had moved it was sent
to the Tower.
Charles just then returned from Scotland, and met with a
brilliant reception by the citizens of London; he entertained great hopes, and assumed a tone of confidence in
all that he said and did. The royalist heroes of the recent
debates, Falkland, Hyde, and Colepepper, became his confidential advisers, and soon afterwards officially entered his
service; theguard of the Houses of Parliament were dismissed;
and the party of the Remonstrance, when they called attention
to the insecurity of the Palace of Westminster, were told that
so long as it required no guard Parliament did not require
one either.
After the Remonstrance, both parties felt that a crisis was
approaching. Each reproached the other with entertaining
treacherous projects, and by degrees the populace of
London was in a commotion. About the end of December
there were several bloody skirmishes between the royal
troops, joined by the students of the Inns of Court, and the
apprentices and Thames watermen on the other side. The
year ended amidst the most gloomy indications, and on
January 3rd, I642, the storm burst. The Commons were
just discussing a scornful message from the King, who, to
their repeated requests for a guard, replied that he himself
was their protector against every danger-when in the
Upper House, another royal message was delivered, accuse
ing Lord Kimbolton and five of the Commons of high
treason on seven counts. While the discussion was going




ARREST OF THE FIVE MEMBERS.           647
on in the Commons, Pym and Hollis were called out.
They shortly returned, and Pym reported that his own.
Hollis's, and Hampden's dwellings had been entered and
-their desks and chests sealed. The House declared this
proceeding to be a crying abuse of their privileges, and
asserted that violence against any member of the House must
be met by violence. Just then the Royal Sergeant appeared,
and demanded in thename of the King that the five members,
Hollis, Haslerig, Pym, Hampden, and Strode, should be
given up on a charge of high treason. The House received
the message in gloomy silence; no one laid hands on the five
members; and it was resolved to inform the King, by a deputation, that the House would take the King's demand into
serious consideration, and that the members would be ready
to answer any legal accusation. This first attack was therefore warded off, but the second followed the next morning.
After a violent scene with the Queen, who is reported to
have said, "Go, coward, and pull these rogues out by the
ears, or never see me more," the King set out to accomplish
what his sergeant had failed to do. At the beginning of
the sitting, after the accused had vehemently protested
against the " scandalous document," as they called the indictment, and had received permission to withdraw, the King
appeared at the head of one hundred armed men before the
doors of the House. Accompanied by his nephew, Charles
of the Palatinate, brother of Rupert, he entered the House,
advanced with a friendly greeting to the Speaker, and begged
him to relinquish his place to him for a short time. Em.
barrassed and hesitating, he delivered a short speech, which
has been preserved to us verbatim. Amidst assurances
that the privileges of the House had not lain nearer to the
heart of any monarch than to his, he declared with strong
emphasis that in cases of high treason there could be no
question of privilege; he had, therefore, expected obedience,
and not a message in reply to his yesterday's summons.
He then looked round for the well-known faces of his worst
foes, and not seeing them, asked where they were. No one
answered. Then he turned with the same question to the
Speaker, who, being a timid man, fell on his knees, and said
that in that place he had neither eyes to see nor ears to hear
otherwise than as the House directed. " Well," said Charles,
"6 since the birds are flown, I do expect that you will send
them to me as soon as they return hither," otherwise he must




648     T1E REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
resort to other means to find them. "Their treason is horrible,
and is of that kind that you will all thank me for discovering."
Amidst loud murmurs, he left the House.
The King had proceeded to extremities, and had failed.
He had not secured the leaders, and had exposed himself
in an unexampled manner. Uip to this time, he had kept
up an appearance of wishing to keep the peace with his
Parliament; but the scene of the 4th of January tore aside the
mask. He was the old Charles of Strafford's time, the policy
of the last eleven years was still- uppermost.
THE COMMOTION IN THE CAPITAL.-THE FIRST PARLIAMENTARY ARMY. —DEPARTURE OF THE KING.
The fate of the five members delpended mainly on the
attitude which might be taken by the City of London in the
difference between King and Parliament.  Both parties
hoped for its sympathies. The excitement about the events
of the 4th of January was indescribable. At the first news
of it the shops were closed, business was at a stand-still, and
the idle populace poured into the streets.
The King did not believe that this excitement was unfavourable to him. Had he not met with a warm reception in his
capital only a fewY weeks before? On the morning of the
5th of January, he proceeded, without any military escort,
to the Guildhall, to encourage his friends and intimidate his
adversaries; but he was assailed with curses and threats,
rebellious voices were heard in the Guildhall itself, and on
his return the people shouted after him "Privilege, privilege! "
While he was making this excursion, the Commons were
declaring his proceedings against the five members, and
his armed-visit to Parliament to be an attack on the rights
of the House, and adjourned for several days, appointing a
committee to transact the current business. This committee
placed itself in communication with the five members, who
were concealed in the neighbourhood of Westminster, and
now came the time when "king" Pym guided from his
hiding-place the very movement which was to have been
stopped by his arrest.
Meanwhile the London militia took up arms. A disturbance during the night of the 6th-7th of January, a re.
port that the King had sent out armed men to take the five
members, brought 40,000 armed citizens to their feet in the




THE FIRST PARLIAMENTARY ARMY.    64Q
course of an hour. To the ooo,ooo of the proletariat, who,
since the Christmas of the preceding year, had occasionally
dealt blows to the cavaliers with their halberds and sabres,
were now joined the well-to-do citizens. The attitude of
the metropolis in the strife was decided on.
The committee of Parliament now instituted a formal
indictment against the King. Witnesses were called about
the proceedings of the 4th of January, the warrant for the
arrest of the five members which had been issued by the
King alone was demanded from the two sheriffs of London,
and finally, in open defiance of the King, it was resolved
that the five members had the right to join the sittings of
the committee; this they did, though a royal mandate had
gone forth that no citizen of London was to receive them,
nol furnish them with a ship to emigrate, and a fresh mandate had been issued to all officials to seize them wherever
found.
The committee went further and further. The measures
taken by the city for the protection of Parliament were
pronounced to be meritorious, and every one who opposed
them was denounced as the enemy of his country; a commander was appointed to guard the fortress and city, and
for the I xth of January, the day of the re-assembling of Parliament, all the citizens who could bear arms were called
out. The trained bands of the city received their orders;
they were joined by 4,000 farmers from Buckinghamshire,
countrymen of Hampden, who declared that they would
die at the feet of Parliament if need were. The proletariats
of the workshops, the Thames watermen, the militia of
Southwark, offered themselves as a guard to Parliament,
and the committee was in a position to organize an imposing Parliamentary army for the ceremony of the 1 ith of
January. The resolution to do this already amounted to
revolution.
Parliament appointed a leader for the troops raised in
the city. All the officers and men had to sign the Parliamentary protest against the royal attempt. It was declared
to be their duty to obey the House in spite of any other
orders or counter orders, and their mission to repel any
attack, come whence it might. And all this was for the
protection of the "King, the kingdom, and Parliament."
The King had received regular intelligence of all this;
with impotent rage he had seen one piece of his prerogative




65o      THE RIEVOLUTION IN ENGIAND.
go after the other. But this was too much. He could rot
and would not witness the entry of Parliament, the solemn
return of the "traitors," whose death he had sworn. On
the evening of the ioth of January he set out with his wife
and children for Hampton Court.
The next morning, amidst indescribable rejoicings, the
five members made their entry into the city, which was
festively adorned. The banks of the Thames were occupied
by companies of the militia, with copies of the protest on
their pikes. The river was covered with boats and ships,
from whioh salutes quickly followed each other. The persecuted members were received on the threshold of the
palace by the whole Hose.




CHAPTER XLVIL.
THE CIVIL WAR.
spects of both Parties.-Victories of the Royalists, October, 16b2,
to September, 1643.-Interposition of the Scots.-Presbyterians
and Independents.-Defeat of the Royalists at Marston Moor,
July, and at Newbury, October, I644.-Oliver Cromwell.-Thea
Self.denying Ordinance.
THE CIVIL WAR; PROSPECTS OF BOTH PARTIES.-VICTORIES OF THE ROYALISTS, OCTOBER, I642; SEPTEMBER,
x643.
C HARLES did not anticipate when he left London that
he would enter it again as a prisoner of state.  It was
his hope rather, and many things justified him in it, to
make his entry into the capital at no very distant period as
victor over all his enemies. The tide of revolution which
had risen so high in the metropolis had not extended much
beyond, and not at all to the Northern counties. The loyal
members of the aristocracy, whose voices were drowned in
London by the fury of the populace and the passions of the
majority in Parliament, had more scope elsewhere; and if
they had a legitimate centre, they might, with their influence upon the rural population, become a powerful instrument of royalist reaction..
At York, where the King fixed his temporary residence,
he found himself in the midst of a daily increasing retinue
from the highest circles of the aristocracy.  Almost the
whole Upper House, and a strong minority in the Commons, joined his cause. Since Parliament had deprived
the bishops of their votes, and seemed disposed to over.
throw the whole episcopal constitution, the temporal nobles
saw that their own positiqp in the State was threatened, as
well as the monarchy; thS Hotspurs among the Royalists,




652      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
who, in London, had been condemned to silence by the
terrorism of parties, now regained speech and courage; the
moderate party, also, who had formerly opposed the absolutism of the ministers and the crown, saw, in the now harmless King, the last defence against the ascendancy of a
party whose aims appeared to extend beyond the monarchy
itself. Parliament was undeniably in the path of complete
usurpation. It might be excused as only the exercise of
the right and duty of defence; but it was nevertheless a
fact, though all that was decreed and done against the King,
was, in accordance with the constitutional fiction, done in
his name. In the name of the King, Parliament had
nominated governors of all the counties, with the command
of all the forces, the garrisons, and fortresses of the kingdom, though the King had naturally rejected the bill with.indignation, for it gave all the defences of the country into
the hands of Parliament to use against him. The further
this was carried, the more decided would be the variance
between elements whose relations had hitherto been undefined, so much the larger would be the number of the
King's followers.
Both sides made preparations and carried on negotiations for months. At length, in I642, Parliament stated
its ultimatum  in nineteen demands.  Nothing less was
demanded than the supremacy of Parliament over the whole
State, the King included. The King was to choose his
advisers according to the pleasure of the House, and without their consent no act of his was to be valid. All officials
and the superior judges were to be appointed with the concurrence of Parliament, and were to be irremovable. No
member of the royal family could contract marriage without the consent of Parliament. The laws against the
Catholics were to be enforced, and divine worship and
Church government reformed in accordance with the resolutions of Parliament. The militia laws were to be under
Parliament; its jurisdiction was to extend to all sorts of
crimes; a general amnesty was to be granted, with exceptions which Parliament was to determine; fortresses and
castles could only be disposed of in accordance with its
will; and no peer could be created without consent of
both Houses.
These demands could not be accepted by Charles.
"These being passed," he replied, " we may be waited on




ROYALIST SUCCESSES.               653
bareheaded, we may have our hand kissed, the style of
Majesty continued to us, and the King's authority declared
by both Houses of Parliament, may be still the style ot
your commands; we may have swords and maces carried
before us, and please ourselves with the sight of a crown
and sceptre (yet even these twigs would not long flourish
when the stock upon which they grew was dead); but as
to true and real power, we should remain but the outside,
but the picture, but the sign of a King." *
This was the last peaceful exchange of opinions between
the contending parties; from this time it was a question of
arms. In reviewing the forces of both, there was a manifest disproportion between them.
Deprived of his prerogative, without the fortresses, ships,
troops, arms, or money of the kingdom at his disposal,
when the King raised his standard at York he was like an
adventurous pretender aiming to overthrow the legitimate
government, with a retinue of noble retainers and a rushing
stream of excited public opinion against him. Parliament
had all that the King lacked, all the munitions of war in
abundance, and as the money in hand was not sufficient to
support the army, a loan was issued; within ten days the
treasury was filled with plate contributed by the families of
the favourable party, to be coined into money.
The levy of troops amidst the general enthusiasm was
most successful.
Under the impression of these things, the opinion might
well be entertained in Parliament that, if the King did not
prefer to submit without drawing the sword, the war would
be ended by a single blow.  But the event was very
different.
The first engagement, on October 23rd, at Edge Hill,
did not yield a decisive victory to either party; but it
showed that the Parliamentary army had nothing equal to
the well-drilled cavalry of the brave cavaliers.  Prince
Rupert put the enemy's left wing to flight on the first
assault, the right wing was repulsed, and, had it not been
for the too vehement pursuit of the royal reserve, by which
the infantry was subjected to a fierce attack by the Parliamentary army, the day would have been lost to the latter.
After the confidence with which the army of the Earl of
Essex had set out from London, it made the impression,
RusRhworth.




654      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
and produced the results, of an actual defeat. The King
pushed on towards London; Parliament anxiously began
to negotiate, and was not pacified till the Earl of Essex
was on the spot, and, strengthened by 24,000 of the
London militia, arrested the King's progress.
The King established his winter quarters at Oxford, the
only city really true to him, and made vigorous preparations
for the spring campaign.
The year I643 brought one success after another to the
Royalist arms. The Earl of Newcastle succeeded in sub.
jecting all the northern counties to the King, a political
progress against which some military failures did not weigh
heavily in the scale. The result was the same in the west.
In Cornwall the Royalist nobles rose against the rebellion,
offered their vassals to the King, drove two Parliamentary
armies, at Stratton and Lansdown, from the field, and after
Prince Maurice had beaten Waller, the best of the Parliamentary generals, at Roundway Down, they joined the
royal army at Oxford. Prince Rupert had previously fallen
upon and routed part of Essex's army, on which occasion
Hampden received a fatal wound; and soon after Rupert
stormed Bristol, the second city in the kingdom.
On September 20oth, a battle took place at Newbury, in
which Falkland fell, and which ended for the Earl of Essex
with an honourable retreat to London. In the main, the
advantage was on the Royalist side, and the partial successes
won by Thomas Fairfax and Oliver Cromwell in the north did
not effect a decision, as, soon after the victory of Wakefield,
Fairfax's army was completely routed at Atherton Moor.
All the energy of the Parliamentary committee, of which
Pym was one, was required to keep down the discontent
which never fails to take possession of a party obstinately
pursued by misfortune.
The most rigid measures were therefore taken against
every tendency to cry for peace, or to give but a lukewarm
support to the war. Compulsory taxes were levied, multi.
tudes of Royalists imprisoned and robbed of their property,
and when a conspiracy was traced, the leaders were hung
before their own doors.




NTERFERENCE OF THE SCOTCH.            655
[LTERFERENCE OF THE SCOTCH.-PRESBYTERIANS AND
INDEPENDENTS.-THE CAMPAIGN OF I644-5.-DEFEAT
OF THE ROYALISTS AT MARSTON MOOR AND NEWBURY.
The situation of the Parliamentary party had taken a
most unfavourable turn. The war which they had hoped to
decide by a few powerful strokes had brought them nothing
but misfortune. Their ill-disciplined recruits were almost
everywhere beaten, and were deeply discouraged; the
generals were at variance, and had lost confidence in their
party; the means for the support of the army were only to
be obtained by the greatest exertions; unpopular financial
measures, such as the excise devised by Pym, had become
necessary, and mutinous voices were heard among the
party.
In these difficulties, Pym, who was never at a loss for
resources, entered into an understanding with the Scotch
that they should make an unexpected diversion in the King's
rear, just where he had been most successful during the past
year.
On the other side of the Tweed the Royalist victories had
been watched with almost as great anxiety as in London,
where an attack might at any moment be looked for.
The concessions which Charles had made in his distress,
in order to separate the interests of the two kingdoms, were
so entirely opposed to his personal inclinations and past
policy, that no one could suppose that, once victorious over
the English Parliament, he would be willing to be merely
the shadow of a King in Scotland.
Out of the common danger rose the alliance, offensive
and defensive, between the Scotch and English Parliament,
formally entered into on the 17th of September, I643.
According to the words of this treaty, the object of the
alliance was not only to maintain the rights of both Parliaments against the Royalists, but to extirpate Popery, episcopacy, and the episcopal form of church government, and to
substitute a new and reformed one in the three kingdoms.
By this the Scots intended the Presbyterian form; but the
English had been cautious enough to express their intentions in terms so general, that the question may be considcdled an open one: " Reform of the Church in England
and Ireland according to the Word of God and the example
of the purest churches."




656      ME  REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
In fact, on this point Parliament by no means agreed
with the Scots. By the side of a minority of Anglicans,
who secretly held to the episcopal constitution and the
semi-Catholic form of worship, was the Presbyterian party,
who favoured moderate Calvinistic views, mortally hated
Popery, but would have been well content with the continuance of episcopal authority if deprived of its political
privileges, and on this subject, as on politics, wished to avert
radical innovations. Then there were the Independents,
whose influence was increasing. They were the extreme
left of the Puritan party, and wished for a formal revolution
in Church and State.
The Independents had constructed a religious, ecclesiastical, and political creed of their own, based on the principles of extreme Calvinism.  It was a curious mixture of
Old Testament reminiscences, Calvinistic dogmas, and
political radicalism. They had become a sect of strong
mystical hue; the preaching of the millennial kingdom, then
speaking with tongues and religious ecstasies, distinguished
their worship from all previous services; their taste for Old
Testament names, a special garb, their gloomy strictness
and boast of monastic contempt for the world, made them
outwardly peculiar.  They hated not only the Romish
Church, and all that the Anglican Church had retained of
its usages: they wished to have no priests, and held that
every believer was a priest.  No congregation of the
"Godly," as they styled themselves, would tolerate any man
above it; the strictest democratic equality was demanded for
it as a whole, though it might be composed of the dregs of
the people, as well as for every individual; —was not the
Redeemer a carpenter's son? was not his teaching addressed
to the weary and heavy laden?
They were a singular race of mortals. He who thinks
to dispose of them as hypocrites, spares himself the trouble
of characterizing them; but he does not account for their
great significance. Hypocrisy is not capable of ruling the
masses as they ruled them, nor of dying for their cause as
they died. They were undoubtedly fanatics of the wildest
sort, and some of their sayings almost bear the stamp of
religious insanity; but many of them are deeply thought
out, and produced a most powerful effect. Cromwell's
speeches, with all the Puritanical flourishes which belong
to the fashion of the age, display an earnestness and




THE INDEPENDENTS.                657
depth, an eloquence and striking delineations of the
situation, which rise far above any other memorials of this
period.
This sect was profoundly in earnest with its creed; to
others it might appear like madness, but its members were
resolved to die for it.  They had imbibed with their
mothers' milk the rigid relentless energy of a struggling
church, and had maintained it in many a conflict. It was
thus that they achieved extraordinary success.  A party,
which numbered scarcely one-tenth of the nation among
its followers, ruled the three kingdoms with more effect
than ever an absolute government or an assembly has ruled
France; and Cromwell, though he knew that almost the
whole kingdom was against him, not only ruled the country
for ten years, but dictated laws to Europe.
The consequences of the civil war between Charles I.
and Parliament, after it had been waged with decided ill
success by the latter, inspired no party with such cool determination as the Independents.
The fiction of a war in " the name" of him against whom
it was waged, was at once thrown overboard. The idea of
the restoration of a constitution, which, just because it was
impossible with this monarch had led to war, was now simply
laid aside-the possibility of a reconciliation with Charles I.
was no longer thought of. The result was that this party
alone waged war with thorough energy and determination;
while the Presbyterians, the Earl of Essex at their head,
could not but be accused of a certain half-heartedn ess. They
wished for the restoration of ancient rights, forgetting how
far they had already got beyond them.
In the following campaign this contrast was to be fully
brought out, and the participation of the Scotch, however
much their help might be desired, could but help the process, for their Presbyterian Church government was almost
as hateful to the Independents as the Anglican itself.
The first decisive conflict of 1644 related to the possession
of the northern counties, and their centre, York.
Reinforced by the Scotch, who had been advancing since
February, and by the army of the Earl of Manchester, in
which Cromwell served, Fairfax had in the summer collected
a force strong enough to undertake the assault of York with
a prospect of success. The siege had begun when Prince
Rupert arrived with 20,000 men, and contrived by a dex.
42




658      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
terous operation to throw his whole force into the city.
Contrary to the advice of the Earl of Newcastle, he gave
battle on the open field. The greatest passage of arms
which the war had hitherto seen took place on July 2nd at
Marston Moor. A bloody contest went on for hours, but
Cromwell's distinguished generalship at length decided the
day, and the Royalists suffered a fearful defeat. York, the
King's most trustworthy support in the northern counties,
was lost.
Meanwhile, two armies, under Essex and Waller, had
undertaken a combined attack upon the Royal camp at
Oxford, but with these generals' usual want of success. On
June 29th, Waller was signally defeated at Copraby bridge;
and on September Ist, Essex's army was involved in a great
defeat, and he himself only escaped in a boat.
But now Parliament put considerable reinforcements at
their disposal, and commanded Manchester and Cromwell
to join them. With these forces, the King was again
attacked, on October 27th, at Newbury, and, after an
obstinate defence, driven back to Oxford. Cromwell urged
taking speedy advantage of the victory, so that the war might
be ended by a great stroke; but this was opposed by
Manchester, which gave rise to fatal dissensions between
these generals. Charles owed it to these quarrels alone that
he occupied his winter quarters without molestation. Durilg this winter the dispute between the Presbyterians and
Independents ended in an open breach, and the man who
was henceforth to influence so largely the fate of England
and of Europe, come into the foreground.
OLIVER CROMWELL.*
Oliver Cromwell was born amidst limited circumstances,
on April 25th, 1599, at Huntingdon. On his mother's side
he was related to the Stuarts, on his father's to that Croniwell who was for a time minister to Henry VIII., and received the name of Malleus Monachorum.
-He grew up in a moderately prosperous household, in
which Puritan piety and strictness of morals were old traditions. The stories of his having passed through a wild and
passionate youth have been contradicted. However bitterly
his enemies might hate him, they were compelled to allow
* Oliver Cromwell (after Carlyle's description) in Raumers T'a.
chenbuch.




OLIVE R CROM:WIELL.               b59
that his private and domestic life was exemplary. Piety, discipline, and purity in family life never celebrated a more
beautiful triumph than in his family.
Though not unversed in learning, Cromwell was designed
for a farmer. At the time when the conflict between the
Crown and the Parliament began, he was still a quiet, monosyllabic countryman, simply and honestly pursuing his rural
occupations. He formed a respectable middle-class marriage,
founded a domestic hearth, and all his ways and doings
were those of a contented English farmer. Decided, characteristic religious tendencies began, however, to show themselves. He diligently attended the piayer-meetings of his
fellow-professors, devoted his savings to the Puritan travelling preachers, zealously took part in their missions, and
occasionally undertook a proselytizing journey himself. No
less significant was his connection with the eminent patriots
of those times. John Hampden was his cousin, and he may
have received his first political interests from him.
He first appeared as a politician in the memorable Parliament of I628. His maiden speech consisted of but a few
words, but they were on a subject which was, with him, a
matter of conscience. He spoke of Popish intrigues which
a preacher in his neighbourhood had been carrying on, and
for which he had been rewarded by his bishop with a benefice. Such occurrences were then frequent. " If these," said
Cromwell, " are the means of rising in the Church, what can
we expect? "  Then came the eleven years of absolutism.
Cromwell was now simply the farmer again, and a patriarch
in his little congregation. He occupied himself with prayermeetings and preaching journeys, went about among the
"quiet in the land," who might be relied on in case of need,
and lie became' one of the most influential persons in his
community.
In the Parliament of i640, he was in his place again.
Once he spoke for the ill-used secretary of the fanatical
Prynne, at another time for the rights of poor peasants and
for the Scotch. He was an offence to the Cavaliers, with
his large frame, harsh voice, plain coat, and fervid eloquence.
When Hampden was asked " who that sloven was," he said,
"That sloven whom you see before you hath no ornament
in his speech; that sloven, I say, if we should ever come to
a breach with the King (which God forbid), in such a case,
I say, that sloven will be the greatest man in England "




66o      TIlE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
Then came the breach; and among the first who made
sacrifices for the Parliamentary cause, was Cromwell.
Now forty-three years of age, and the father of six children,
he contributed first three and then five hundred pounds of his
property. With his eldest son, a hopeful youth, he joined the
Parliamentary volunteers, thus staking his family, his happiness, and his property. He kept up communication with
Cambridge, and contrived that two companies of volunteers
should be established there, and the treasures of the University saved for Parliament. No one could then say whether
thie path in which he was boldly leading the way might not
lead to the scaffold, and he was like a voluntary victim
breaking down the bridge behind him. Unlike the Presbyterians, then the great majority in the nation and in Parliament, who thought it possible to fight against the King in
the King's name, Cromwell took up the war from the first
in terrrible earnestness.  "He who draws the sword
against the King," he used to say, " must throw the sheath
into the fire; " and he told his company that his commission
was indeed to fight for Ki.lg and Parliament, but he hated
ambiguity; let each man ask himself if he, like himself,
could make up his mind, in case he came upon the King
in a fray, to shoot him down like any other man; let not
him who could not do so serve under him.
When the first victories of the Royalists took place, he
told Hampden that it did not surprise him; they could not
hope with hirelings, serving men, and day labourers, to
make head against noblemen with honour, courage, and
resolution in their hearts. They must get men of spirit, who
would be as ready to go into the fire as the nobles, or they
would always be beaten; and he acted in accordance with
his advice. He had a wonderful talent for military organi.
zation; though not brought up to it, he had the true instinct.
Instead of the mob of discharged soldiers and deserters
of which the Parliamentary army was composed, he tried
to attract the best of the middle classes into it, and to create
a genuine citizen army. This ideal army was to be a political
body, filled with the same spirit, and modelled after the
fashion of the company he had formed of his countrymen.
He therefore created a few squadrons of Puritans, soon
amounting to fourteen, which should serve as a pattern
for the new army.
In these, as it was said, half in jest, half in earnest, his




OLIVER CROMWELL.                   66i
" saints" were represented; the quiet companions of his
prayer-meetings, the singular fanatics of the conventicles,
square-shouldered citizens and peasants, with gloomy looks
and coarse attire. It was like a fraternity of psalm-singers
and devotees in arms. Cursing, swearing, feasting, was
not found here as in other camps; prayer was offered and
services were held; laymen appeared as preachers, just
as the illumination came to them, as was customary in
their peaceful services at home. The Puritan congregation
was transferred to the camp, with all their singularities, but
also with their religious enthusiasm, their discipline, fear
of God, and devotion to their cause.- It was totally different in the other army, in which the lawless behaviour of
the troops, and the discontent of their distinguished leaders
spoiled everything.
It was of stuff like this that the squadrons were composed
who first opposed the onslaught of the dreaded Cavaliers,
and were soon to drive them out of the field.
At Marston Moor, Cromwell and his Puritan horsemen
first gained a decisive victory. The hitherto unvanquished
Cavaliers of Prince Rupert had, as Cromwell said, been cut
down like stubble by their swords; he had projected a
similar blow for the main part of the royal army after the
victory of Newbury, but he had met with unlooked-for opposition, not of a personal character, but based on a difference
of principle. His general, the Earl of Manchester, was a
skilful soldier, but on the subject of the aims and merits of
the war, his opinions were those of all the Parliamentary
leaders, especially the Earl of Essex, who, belonging to the
highest nobility, and having only torn himself away from his
equals after severe mental struggles, had no idea of annihilating the King, or even of introducing a new constitution.
For this party the war was only a means-a heroic means,
indeed-of compelling the King to'constitutionalism, to
which he would not be brought by friendly measures. A
complete victory, ther-efore, over him, which would at the
same time annihilate the monarchy, was considered by
them to be a misuse of theiz arms, and a great evil.
At Newbury this had come plainly to light. - Cromwell
asked leave to attack the royal army in the rear with his
cavalry brigade, proposing that the Earl, if he preferred it,
saluld remain with the rest of the troops in inaction; biut




662      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
the Earl absolutely refused, giving no other reasons than
that if beaten there would be an end of their demands,
and that they would be at once executed as rebels and
traitors.
Even if this answer expressed the whole truth, there was
an idea of reconciliation and return at the bottom of it
which Cromwell had long ago given up. Cromwell was
resolved to put an end to these half measures. While
amongst his enemies, the remote possibility of an indictment against him as a radical incendiary was under consideration; he was acting with so much skill, that his
adversaries first learnt what his intentions were from the
result.
On December 9th, I644, the situation was discussed in
Parliament.  Cromwell rose, to give expression to the
general discontent. The war had now been going on for
two years; they had suffered many defeats, and gained but
few victories; enormous sacrifices had been demanded in
money, men, and property, yet as good as nothing was
attained, for what was gained one day was lost the next; in
winter they began to think how much blood had been shed
in vain, how much money spent, and how much land
devastated. The suffering people ascribed the blame to
Parliament; and if it did not fiind a remedy all confidence
in it would be lost. The people thought the great gentlemen in Parliament had no interest in bringing the war to a
close; for so long as it lasted they were in power, and held
important posts, but when it was over their glory would be
at an end.
This talk, with which he did not agree, must be met.
The war must be carried on in a different manner; the army
must be put on a fresh footing; and, to render this possible,
an act of self-denial was necessary for all those who were
taking the lead, and, as true patriots, this would not appear
to themas too great a sacrifice.
Before this, one of the "Saints," Henry Vane, had in.
formed the House that all the preachers at the late festival
had, by a wonderful concurrence, spoken from their pulpits
against the members of Parliament remaining in their lucrative offices. This was the finger of God; this was the
work of the Holy  Spirit; Parliament should give an
example of self renunciation; besides, by the removal of
so many members, the numbers in the House were tm.




THE SELF-DENYING ORDINANCE.            663
paired. Before the war he had himself held a lucrative
office in the Treasury; but he voluntarily resigned it, and
he wished that others would do the same.
These were the preliminaries to the Self-denying Ordinance, which was' passed after a vehement contest. It
excluded all the members of both Houses from all civil and
military offices. Before it was passed, Cromwell had attained
his object.  The Presbyterian generals, Essex, Warwick,
Manchester, Denbigh, Waller, and others, had resigned.
A stratagem was required to except Cromwell, who was
both an officer and member of the Commons. During the
discussions, Fairf x had him sent for to the army, and before
long no one said any more on the subject.




CHAPTER XLVII!.
AImlE CATASTROPHE OF CHARLES AND OF THE PARLIAMEt,
Defeat of Charles at Naseby, June, I645.-He takes refuge with the
Scots, who sell him to the Presbyterians.-Mutiny of the Army,against Parliament.-Abduction of the King.-March to London.
-First Purge of Parliament, August, 1647.-The King's Flight to
the Isle of Wight.-His Trial and Execution, January 3oth, 1649.
IrXAT AT NASEBY.-THE  KING'S REFUGE WITH  THE
SCOTCH.-SOLD TO THE PRESBYTERIANS.-MUTINY OF
THE ARMY AGAINST PARLIAMENT.-ABDUCTION OF'IHE
KING, AND ENTRY INTO LONDON.
FROM this time the war and the military system of Parliament bear a totally different aspect. What had
been begun by Cromwell on a small scale was carried on
on a larger one. The whole army was inspired by the
spirit of the Saints; the officers were intrusted with the
duties of priests; preaching and psalm-singing were introduced into the camp, the wild doings of which a great jart
of the Parliamentary army had been guilty, in common
with the Royalists, ceased; and, since Cromwell and
Fairfax had held the command, it had been free from its
previous lukewarmness.
With this strictly-disciplined army, in which a trust in
God prevailed bordering on Mohammedan fatalism, Cromwell, to whom Fairfax was in fact subordinate, defeated the
Royalists at Naseby, on June I4th, x645. After this day
good fortune entirely fo.rsook the Ki-ng; one city and
county was lost after another. Cromwell not only knew
how to conquer, but to take advantage of his victories. He
twas always at the heels of the Royalists, and did not rest
qill the party was annihilated.
One prospect still opened before the unhappy King.




THE KING SOLD BY THE SCOTCH.            665
The Scotch had become uneasy at the victories of the
Independents.  The fanatical Presbyterians feaxed the
supremacy -of the radical enthusiasts, and would have
nothing to do either with their creed or their church constitution. The King was not in a position to retract any of
his concessions to them; from the Independents, on the
contrary, they had nothing to hope. Out of these elements
the French ambassador combined a tempting picture,
which the King was the less able to withstand, as since
the spring of I646, at Oxford, he had been daily expecting
a blow from the hands of the enemy. Thus arose his resolution to take refuge with the remnant of his faithful followers
in the Scotch camp.
On May 5th he appeared before Newark, followed by a
Parliamentary decree, threatening any one with death who
should harbour the fugitive King.
Agreeably surprised by this unexpected proof of royal
confidence, the Scotch persuaded the King to give up his
last weapons; they made him order all the royal garrisons
which had hitherto held out against Fairfax and Cromwell
to surrender to Parliament. This done, they negotiated
with Parliament about a ransom for their royal captive.
The cunning and worldly wisdom of the Scotch is proverbial; this act was even more than Scotch.
The war which they had undertaken, in order to make
England Presbyterian, and to place the covenant on firm
ground, had, according to their reckoning, cost two millions,
and the possession of the King furnished them with a
means of indemnifying themselves. After long chaffering,
they agreed to liberate the King for ~400,~oo, half to be
paid immediately, the rest in two instalments.
At first, even the Scotch Parliament felt the business to
be so disgraceful that a resolution was passed that the King
should be protected and his liberation insisted on; but it
was informed by the General Assembly that as the King
had opposed the Covenant, his fate no longer concerned
the "Saints," and so the transaction was completed.
Upon his journey from Scotch to English imprisonment,
the King once more experienced the royalist sympathies of
the masses. Sympathetic tears and exclamations accom.
panied him to Holdenby, where rough treatment awaited
hmI, which Only gave place to better, when English parties
begn Xto disagree about his fate.




666      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
It is difficult to say exactly what the Presbyterians in
tended to do with the King when he was in their power.
The commissioners who had taken possession of him at
Newark reverently kissed his hand; but at Holdenby he
was treated like an arrested criminal. His suite was dismissed, all intercourse with the outer world was cut off; he
was even deprived of his chaplains because they had not
signed the covenant. One thing alone was certain amidst
all these contradictions, that the Presbyterians who had the
majority, both in and out of Parliament, did not desire a
republic or abolition of monarchy, and therefore regarded
the spirit of the Independent army as its worst foe.
They intended, therefore, before any further steps should
be taken, in some way or other to get rid of this army.
In Parliament it was now said, " The war is over; there is
no longer a hostile army; the treasury is exhausted; why
keep a large army in the field for nothing, when there are
no means to support it? " It was proposed to send some of
the troops to Ireland, to dismiss others, and to keep only
a small reserve in case of need. Once rid of the hosts of
the Saints, the rest would arrange itself, and Parliament
could discuss at ease what to do with the King and country.
But they were mistaken in thinking that they could so
easily get rid of those who had won the victory, and had in
the long struggle lost reverence, not for the King only.
Scarcely had the news of the plans of the majority reached
the camp, through the Independents in Parliament, than the
army began to move. Besides their large arrears of pay,
the troops demanded not to be treated as Janissaries or hirelings, to be disposed of at pleasure without being consulted.
The demands of the Saints were put together in a definite
form in a petition to Fairfax, and as Parliament only met
it with threats, open mutiny broke out. The camp became
an opposition Parliament; the officers met as the Upper,
the men as the Lower House, and passed independent
resolutions in defence of their rights against the interference
of the London Parliament. And when Parliament commended that the troops who would not go to Ireland should
be forthwith dismissed, the armymot only refused obedience,
but despatched a division of five hundred horse to Holdenby, seized the King in presence of the astonished
parai-entry commissioner, and soon after Cromwell re
moved the wahle army to St. Alban's.




idUTINY OF THE ARMY AGAINST PARLIAMENT. 667
With his hand on his sword, Cromwell demanded the
dismissal and arrest of eleven members of Parliament who
had been guilty of high treason-Hollis, Waller, and other
leaders of the Presbyterian party were among them. Parliament demurred; but the eleven thought it best to withdraw, and the army was so far pacified as to remain at
St. Alban's.
It was, indeed, only a short delay of the catastrophe.
Cromwell wished to avoid open violence, and proposed a
circuitous path which, while making less commotion, would
as surely lead to the goal.
During the panic of the last few days, when the news of
the King's abduction had been quickly followed by that ef
the approach of the enraged Saints, and the Londoners
expected to be given up to the fury of the soldiery, Parliament had one support-the city militia, who, from the
first, had been true to the Presbyterians. It was to be
deprived of this last weapon before the army set its foot
upon its neck.
The army demanded that a change should be made with
the militia, and especially that the Presbyterian commander
should be dismissed. Parliament conceded this unheard-.
of demand; but the masses rose up, the apprentices and
watermen of I642 opposed these measures, and insisted
that the resolution should be rescinded. It was now plain
to the army, who were only waiting for such a pretext, that
Parliament was not its own master, and that their advance
must be eagerly desired; and when the speakers of both
Houses, accompanied by eight peers and sixty of the Commons came and begged for help, there was no longer any
delay.
Twenty thousand gloomy-looking Independents marched
into the city and came to the rescue of Parliament on the
6th of August, I647. There was no want of discipline in
their conduct, but there was an end to the liberty of Parliament. All its recent acts were declared null and void; the
militia were given over to the Independents, and some
opponents who were specially compromised were arrested
and imprisoned. This was the first mutilation of this remarkable assembly. Professedly it was but a blow struck
against the previous majority, but in reality parliamentaryism
itself Ihal received a fatal stroke. What was left of it
existed oidy by favour of the army and its leaders.




668      TIHE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
The King also felt the effects of this event. Up to this
time his imprisonment in camp had been less severe and
more honourable than with the Presbyterians. Up to within
a short time before his abduction he had been negotiating
with them, and terms appeared likely to be made. He had
been so well treated in the Independent camp that he
thought himself courted by both parties, derived courage
from the idea that they could not settle matters without him,
and imagined that he should again be able to employ one
against the other. He was shrewd enough to perceive that
Cromwell belonged to the future, and tried to make advances
to him; offered him the command of the army, to make
him a peer, a duke, &c. What Cromwell thought of all
this we do riot know. He probably did what he had great
dexterity in doing-escaped these snares under the plea of
rustic awkwardness, for he knew the King's cunning. One
thing is certain, that continued intimacy with the King
would have deprived him of his influence with the army,
and that an intercepted despatch from the King to the
Queen would have undeceived a man less shrewd than he
was. In this the King said that it was his wish to unite not
with the English army, but with the Scotch, the mortal
enemies of the Independents. He should know how to
rise against these fellows when the right time came. Instead
of the garter-which he had promised to Cromwell, —there
would be a hempen cord for them.
FLIGHT OF THE KING TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT. —THE SECOND
CIVIL WAR (JULY-SEPTEMBER, 1648).-THE SECOND
PURGE OF PARLIAMENT, DECEMBER, I 648. — RIAL AND
EXECUTION OF THE KING, 30TH OF JANUARY, I649.
After Cromwell withdrew from the King, the Independent preachers raised an alarm against him; a threatening
agitation arose, which increased daily. Forsaken by all,
and in fear for his personal safety, during the night of
the i ith of November the King escaped to the Isle of
Wight.
This was highly imprudent. He did not thereby escape
frim his ga&4es; for the governor of the island was Hampden's soir-in-law, and Cromwell's most trusted ally, and he
cut himself off from cornmmunication with his friends, thus
proving anew that there was no reliance to be placed au




FLIGHT   OF TIE KING.            669
his promises, that negotiation with him was vain.  He
might be recaptured at any moment, and would then be in
the hands of doubly embittered enemies.
It had now become impossible for Charles to remain
King of England. It would be to frustrate the whole significance and aim of the civil war to replace him upon the
throne. But the great question was what should replace
him, and the answer had not become any clearer.
There had, indeed, been a project for establishing a sort
of interregnum-for persuading the King to abdicate, and
of setting up a parliamentary regency in the name of the
Prince of Wales. This plan also put the restoration of
Charles out of the question, but it had long fallen into the
background with the Independents as not going far enough.
For them there no longer was a King.
On the 3rd of January, the motion was carried that no
further message from the King need be received, and that he
no longer had any voice in the reorganization of the State.
On this occasion Cromwell said that while the King was
solemnly talking to them of peace, he was negotiating with
the Scots in order to involve them in a fresh war.
It was not long before this fresh war really broke out.
Fourteen thousand Scots attacked the country to fight for
the King. The native Royalists held up their heads; disturbances broke out in the navy, and there were inflammable materials enough in the country to occasion a general
conflagration.  Even against the resolution in Parliament
declaring the Scots to be enemies, there were ninety
courageous votes.
In London all was quiet, but scarcely had the Independents advanced to meet the Royalists, when Parliament
threw off the terrorism which had held it in check. The
Presbyterians assumed the leadership again, recalled the
eleven dismissed members, reversed the resolution of the
3rd of January, and renewed negotiations with the King in
the Isle of Wight. With great difficulty, after long negotia
tions, a project of a treaty wuas formed, but by the time it
was submitted to Parliament the situation of parties without
was entirely changed.
All the revolts had in turn been quelled, and with
8,ooo men Cromwell had attacked and cut in pieces the
3o,ooo Scots and Royalists.
The result was a peace, which put an end to the alliance




670      THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
fr tke King, and confirmed anew the union of the two
kingdoms, 26th of September, I648.  The camp parliament of the Independents now resolved on their own
account that the King should make amends for the blood
that had been spilt, and that the Parliament had forfeited
its right to existence -by its treaty with Charles. But in
spite of this, Parliament voted for the treaty with the King
by a hundred and twenty-nine against eighty-three, so
there was a fresh "purge."
Early in the morning of the 6th of December, I648,
Westminster was surrounded by two regiments under the
command of Colonel Pride, formerly a drayman, and they
carried off forty-one Presbyterians. One hundred and sixty
members more were excluded, and in the Parliament thus
purged there were now but from fifty to sixty fanatics of the
Independent sect.
It was now necessary to come to some decision about the
King.  Immediately after the resolution of the military
Parliament, he had been brought from Newport and placed
in more secure imprisonment. The question was what to
do with him. To liberate him, especially after recent events,
appeared to the Independents impossible. The King had
made himself a terror to them by everything that makes
a monarch dangerous. His unfathomable cunning, his oftproved treachery, his talent for recovering himself after every
defeat and setting one party against another; his impurturbable obstinacy on all questions connected with the royal
authority, and the episcopal constitution; and finally the
sympathies of the most powerful classes make it perfectly
intelligible that the party which had won all the victories
of the civil war, and could but look for fearful retribution
on a restoration of the monarchy, had adopted the resolution, " Either he or we 1"
The fate of England was in the hands of an alIny not
composed of hirelings but of glowing patriots. They looked
apon the King as the enemy of the country imprisoned
with his weapon in his hand, and they asked themselves,
"Which shall win? "
What Cromwell thought of this question we learn from a
letter which he wrote at this time to his friend Governor
Hammond, in the ls.e of Wight, under date of the 25th of
November, I648, in which he says among other things:"You say,'God hath appointed authorities among the




TRIAL OF THE KING.                 671
nations, to whom active or passive obedience is to be
yielded. This resides in England in the Parliament. Therefore active or passive resistance,' &c.
"c Authorities and powers are the ordinances of God; but
I do not, therefore, think the authorities may do anything,
and yet such obedience be due. All agree that there are
cases in which it is lawful to resist. The query is, whether
ours be such a case.
"To this I shall say nothing, but only desire thee to see
that thou findest in thy own heart to two or three plain
considerations.  First, whether Salus Populi be a sound
position, or if (secondly) the whole fruit of the war is not like
to be frustrated, and all most like to turn to what it was,
and worse? and this contrary to engagements, explicit covenants, with those who ventured their lives upon those
covenants and engagements. Thirdly, whether this army
be not a lawful power called by God to oppose and
fight against the King upon some stated grounds. Let us
look into providences; surely they mean somewhat. They
hang so together, have been so constant, so clear, unclouded.
Malice, swoln malice against God's people, now  called
"Saints," to root out their name; and yet they-' these
poor Saints'-getting arms, and therein blessed with defence,
and more! If the Lord have in any measure persuaded his
people, as generally he hath, of' the lawfulness, nay of the
duty-this persuasion prevailing upon the heart is faith, and
the acting thereupon is acting in faith; and the more the
difficulties are the more the faith.":*
Cromwell had, as we know without this testimony, accustomed himself, without any self-deception, to the idea that
it was rot a case for a judicial sentence, but of measures of
defence, and for the public good.  It was in this light that
it was looked at by him and his army, and he laid no claim
to any other law. This dangerous man must be rendered
harmless, and that he would not be so long as he lived.
It was not a trial that was begun during the last few days
of the old year and the beginning of the new, but a court martial held by the army on a traitor imprisoned sword in hand.
The attempt to carry on the proceedings in a constitutional manner failed. The accusations made by the Rump
Parliament, January ist, I 649-high treason, by overthrowing the laws of the land and instigation of civil war-was
* Carlyle, Cromwell's Letters and Speeches.




672       THE REVOLUTION IN ENGLAND.
indignantly rejected by the Lords. The Speaker, who was
to have been one of the judges, declared that he would
rather be torn in pieces than take part in so reckless a proceeding.
There was, therefore, nothing left for the Commons but to
proclaim a new revolutionary law, which was done January
4th. It declared'that under God, the people are the
source of legitimate power, that the power of the Commons
in Parliament assembled is supreme, that the people are
bound to obey whatever is declared to be law by them, even
without the consent of the King or the Peers.
On January 20oth, Charles Stuart, as he was now called,
appeared before the tribunal, under the accusation of being
a tyrant, a murderer, a traitor, and the enemy of his country.
Since he had been brought to London, he had vacillated
between fear of assassination and the hope of being set free
at the last moment through the disputes of parties among
themselves, but for what now happened he was not prepared. He had thought that it would not go so far as a
legal trial, were it but the shadow of it, before all the world.
But he soon controlled himself, and adopted the only right
course. He behaved like a King who is in the right, who
can be put to death, but not humbled. " I die as a martyr,"
he used to say, and to the last he behaved like a witness to
monarchical constitutional law, as opposed to the victorious
revolution.
He did not defend himself, for he was not before judges.
Every word that he uttered was a protest against the proceedings to which he was subjected. He interrupted the
secretary who read the words that the legal power was ill.
trusted to him, by saying that he was King by hereditary
right, and asked him what right had he before whom he
was brought, to try him.- This was on the first day of the
trial. On the second day, when he was about to answer in
the same style, he was not allowed to speak, and nothing
was left for him but to write down in prison what he wished
to say. In these observations he distinctly said that he
could easily have refuted every word of the accusation,
but that that would have been to acknowledge the tribunal,
and to deny the ancient principle of constitutional law,
according to which "the King can do no wrong."
Sentence of death was passed on the 25th of January, and
the execution followed on the 3oth.




CHAPTER XLIX.
THE COMMONWEAI,TH, WITHOUT  KING OR HOUSE OF
LORDS.
Cromwell's Position after the Death of Charles I. —-Parties, Republic
and Monarchy. —Subjugation of Ireland and Scotland, I649-5 I.War with Holland. —The Navigation Act, October, I65 I, and the
Peace of April, 1654. —The Constitutional Experiments.-I-tismissal of the Long Parliament.-The Constitution of December.
I653.-The Parliament of i654-5 and the Military Government.The Parliament of I656-7.-Proposal of a Monarchy. —Tb
UDper House of January, I658.-Cromwell's Death, Septemb
3rd, I658.-Richard Cromwell and the end of the Republic.
(CROMWELL'S POSITION AFTER THE DEATH OF CHARLES I
— STATE OF PARTIES, REPUBLIC AND MIONARCHY.
T'1HE whole history of Cromwell's reign shows how little
- the King's death was adapted to free the new Government from embarrassment. The difficulties which it was
supposed were got rid 6f, were not got rid of; and the King's
death advanced the cause of his adherents rmore than that
of the Independents.
It is not, however, a parallel case with the murder of
Louis XVI. In the one case, the King wanted to annihilate
the ancient constitutions of the country, in the other, the
King had voluntarily resigned his formerly absolute power;
in the one case a man was put to death who deserved pity
rather than fear or hatred, whilst Charles I. was a foe almost
more dangerous from his virtues than his faults. Louis was
a helpless prisoner, slaughtered like a victim; Charles might
be considered to have challenged his foes to fight against him.
The differences of the times must also be taken into account.
A'he seventeenth century was far less sensitive, even about
43




674            THE COMMONWEALTH.
the lives of princely personages than the philosophical age
of humanity.
But murder was still murder. Even Cromwell did not
deceive himself as to the fact that he had no right to judge
the King. It was an exceptional measure, which did not
annihilate the monarchy. On the contrary, the murder of
I649 awoke it to new life. England was, far more than
the France of 179o, a monarchical country. Even after the
removal of the King, a great deal remained which made
the monarchy indestructible.  Its existence for centuries, the
growth of the country with it, its many pillars in the Upper House, and in the hierarchy, and among the land-owning
nobility. The head of it might be abolished, and tailors
and shoemakers made into peers, but the old preponderance
of the large estates was not thereby got rid of. The State
Church might be deprived of its temporal and ecclesiastical
privileges, yet it would still be one of the mightiest factors
in the country, which could only be done away with by a
massacre, and for all these elements the King's death was
a day of excitement and encouragement. The great majority
of the English nobles now formed a passive opposition,
which would not lightly endanger themselves by violent
measures, but bided their time, and gradually left Cromwell
in isolation. It was the same with the English State Church,
a power that might be repressed, but not crushed. The
masses we're never gained over to oppose her. I am, therefo)re, of o,)inion that if by the death of the King, Cromwell
tnought to give a fatal blow to the monarchy, he utterly
failed of his purpose; he only conferred on it the glory of
martyrdom, which caused its sins and mistakes to be forgotten, and prepared for it a glorious restoration in the future.
I do not imagine that the return of the Stuarts would have
been greeted with such feverish enthusiasm had not the
nation been burdened with the consciousness that there
was a fearful deed between them, that they had to atone
for the murder of a King. Just so I think that had it not
been for the death of Louis XVI. the Bourbons would
never have been restored in France.
A republican constitution was introduced, but it had no
foundation in the condition and sentiments of the people.
Cromwell had to rule with the minority of the nation, as
represented by the fifty thousand Saints. It was the result
of this false position that he projected schemes the impos



CROMWELL'S  POSITION.              675
sibility of which he best knew himself. It is noteworthy
that he gradually withdrew from his own party as he more
and more plainly saw its untenable position.
But just then he was the only man who knew how to
govern England. No other party had a more competent
man, and no opponent had a party which could be corn
pared to his. And the remarkable thing is how rapidly he
adapted himself to his high position —how firmly the
Huntingdonshire farmer maintained himself at the head
of three kingdoms amidst perpetual struggles for existence.
Above all, he restrained the excrescences which had
appeared in this, as in every revolution. Even among this
calm and sober people there were fanatics, and they were
dangerous to Cromwell because they had in some measure
infected the army. The stragglers in every great revolution
— people who preached the abolition of marriage, property,
and all social distinctions-appeared here also, but with
this difference, that the crimes which generally go hand-inhand with this nonsense did not prevail. The teaching of
the Levellers* was nothing more than programme and
attempt when Cromwell interfered. He had himself risen
out of the revolution, held his authority as a fief from it,
and yet he restrained it. This was the first test of his
genius as a ruler, and in his situation it was more difficult
than in the France of 1793.
This symptom of beginning dissolution of his own party
demand( I z1l the more speedy interference, as the Royalist
party was essentially strengthened since the death of Charles.
Since the 3oth of January, I649, it had withdrawn in deep
embitterment, but there were many indications that it was
quietly gathering up its strength, and that when a favourable opportunity occurred, it would not shun an open
breach with Cromwell. It had been joined more and more
by the Presbyterian party. It was the Presbyterians who
had begun the contest with absolute monarchy, and carried
it on for years; but they had no more idea of putting an
end to monarchy itself than of putting the King to death,
and openly expressed their abhorrence of the act. Cromwell had never had much support in the provinces; not a
single county could be named in which the Independents
riled supreme.'That independent spirit which had often
* See Ranke, fii. 328




676           THE COMMONWEALTH.
made itself heard against the King, without intending to
impugn the monarchy itself, was sure now to be directed
against Cromwell, and the more so as the new form of
government was opposed to all the traditions of the country.
Thus Cromwell could only rely for support upon the
army of 5o,000oo men, and this was a two-edged weapon.
With all its military discipline, this army was but an
armed body of men who had their own views upon
questions of Church and State, had maintained them in
many a fearful trial, and probably intended to stand up for
them in the future with equal fanaticism. Cromwell might
dictate laws to Europe, but still he was bound to his
5o,ooo Saints; and he knew perfectly well that they
were no cheaply-bought soldiery, who would have been just
as ready to have obeyed their successful leader as king, but
a republican party under arms, full of the wildest fanaticism.
A time came when it was expected abroad, by the Stuarts,
and even by the Royalists, that Cromwell would have
accepted the Crown offered him by Parliament, but the
50,000 Saints would not suffer it. They stood in the foreground, confronted him with the spectre of the beheaded
King, and the old democratic banner-he declined the crown.
More prudent than many others in a similar situation, he
calculated his means, and took care not to go beyond
them.
He wished to establish a permanent civil administration,
but his only support was a military force which did not
comport with it; he wished, in fact, to form an English
constitution which should reconcile the old aristocratic
structure with the new democratic doctrines; but all his
attempts were irustrated by his antecedents. He was himself the man to shake off the narrow limits of his party,
but they could not be persuaded to any compromise. The
elements for a republic were wanting in the nation, and he
was not the man for the monarchy.
But amidst these vast difficulties he went his way with
astonishing firmness, as if no care or cloud hung over him;
and we must continually recur to his modest origin to estimate righdy his extraordinary talents.  To add to the
internal difficulties of his position, Ireland was unsubdued,
Scotland in open rebellion. The three kingdoms, therefore,
were thoroughly at variance. In Scotland, the King's death
had been the signal for the revolt of the Royalist party, and




SUBJUGATION OF IRELAND AND SCOTLAND. 677
Cromwell had to wage two fearful wars before he could
think of establishing a civil administration. He succeeded
in doing what the Stuarts had never done; he subjugated
all three kingdoms, and ruled them as no King had done
before him.
SUBJUGATION OF IRELAND AND SCOTLAND.-WAR WITH
HOLLAND.
During the last four years, Ireland had been the scene of
various widely-differing projects. In I645, a Papal nuncio,
Rinuccini, had arrived, who laboured with much success to
promote a Catholic restoration and separation from England; but after.the death of the King, a Presbyterian, LordLieutenant Ormond, had succeeded in bringing about a
Royalist coalition between Catholics and Protestants, English and Irish, to revenge themselves on the Independents
for the death of Charles I. This coalition ruled the whole
island, and was in possession of all the fortresses.
In x649, Cromwell set out to oppose them with a select
troop of his veterans-as usual, after spiritual preparation
for the enterprise. In this case, as against the Scot6, his
virtuosoship consisted in inflaming the religious enthusiasm
of his Saints, and their hatred of royal tyranny to such a
degree, that their feelings may be compared to the fatalistic
valour of the Islam armies in their prime.
The campaign against the Green Isle, which was begun
in the middle of August, was a brilliant one. Three of the
most important.fortresses were taken on the first assault,
and merciless sentence passed upon the vanquished enemy.
Cromwell reports with pride how thousands of Irish were
cut down for the greater glory of God. It seemed as if it
was intended, not only to annihilate the enemy, but the
whole population. Cromwell was summoned to Scotland
before he could complete the subjection of the island; it
was left to his successor, Ireton.
This much was immediately attained, Ormond's coalition
was destroyed. The English went over in masses to the
camp of the Independents, while the Irish alone were subjected to this war of extermination.  Ireton behaved if
possible more relentlessly than Cromwell; and out of the
victories of these two men arose the new administration of
Ireland, that military dictatorship which distributed its




678           THE COMMONWMEATH.
fruitful lands among the Saints of the English army, and
left nothing to the inhabitants but emigration or beggary.
The ruling party of the Presbyterians in Scotland had
replied to the news of the beheading of Charles I. by the
proclanation of Charles II. as King of Great Britain, and
at once entered into negotiations with him at the court of
his brother-in-law, William II., in Holland. He responded
to the appeal, but with mixed feelings, for the proffered
crown was not to be had for nothing. He was to sign the
Covenant, and renounce all those prerogatives for which his
father had contended up to the time when he laid his head
on the scaffold. In temporal matters he was to be subject
to Parliament; in ecclesiastical ones to the General Assembly. The one was as much opposed to his convictions
as the other; but the Scots spared him no humiliations
when he sought evasions. He had to sign a declaration,
in which he condemned his parents for the idolatry which
had called down the wrath of God upon their family. If
he refused, he would be given up to the Independents, as
his father had been.
The Scotch now created an army, which was as purely
Presbyterian as that of their enemies was Independent; and
in the summer of I650 the war began.
On his invasion of Scotland, Cromwell found himself at
first in a situation similar to that of the army of the
League i- Bohemia, in I62o. He longed for a speedy decision; his army was suffering from sickness and famine, and
the enemy was encamped behind fortified walls, without, at
first, allowing himself to be seen in the open field.
At the beginning of Septembei, after a fruitless march to
Edinburgh, he arrived with his famished, demoralised troops
near Dunbar. On1 the heights near, lay the Scots, far superior
in numbers. Their leader, Leslie, was justly of opinion that
victory might be gained without a battle by gradually
mnanceuvring the Independents, who were not in possession
of a single secure position, out of the country. But the
General Assembly, in its short-sighted zeal, was of a did
ferent opinion. It had made the discovery around the green
table that the enemy was caught in the trap, and that to let
him escape would be to deprive God's cause of its laurels.
So they gave Cromwell the satisfaction of offering battle,
As they advanced, he exclaimed, " They are coming down;
Heaven has given them into our hands 1"




VICTORY AT WORCESTER.               679
The conflict began early in the morning of the 3rd of
September. Before sunrise, Cromwell threw himself with
an irresistible bound upon the right wing of the enemy,
while the left wing was held fast by a cannonade, and he
gained a complete victory early in the day.
The Scotch army was almost annihilated, and several
towns-Edinburgh among them —fell into the hands of the
victors. Cromwell was in the way to conquer the whole
country; he was already at Perth, in the heart of Scotland,
when Charles II. formed the bold project of advancing witl
his army, which he had with difficulty re-assembled, to England, to threaten the enemy in the very seat of his power.
On the Ist of August, I65I, he appeared with about
1r,ooo men on the other side of the English boundary,
expecting a general revolt of the discontented counties and
their royalist aristocracy.  But he was mistaken. Some
isolated revolts did, indeed, take place, and he reached
Worcester without meeting with any opposition; the city
even welcomed him; but the masses did not stir, and
whenever there were any symptoms of it they were immediately put down by the Independents.
Charles's cause was lost before Cromwell arrived. Cromwell again defeated him at Worcester, and the Royalist
revolt was at an end. Scotland was quiet for a long time,
though not really pacified.
It is an honourable testimony to the steadfast character
of the English people, that opposition did not cease to a
system whose representative they admired, but the principles of which they condemned, in spite of all the successes of the Independents. Perhaps Cromwell's manifest
inclination to elate the people by brilliant foreign enterprises arose partly from this fact, for that' had been the
weak point with the Stuarts. His idea might be to divert
the nation from its unsatisfactory domestic politics.
This did not prevent his being daily threatened with
attempts at assassination, so that he had to carry loaded
pistols about him.  But his foreign policy was of that
nature, that even the sworn enemies of his system, if they
had a spark of national pride, could not fail to be carried
away with it, and to acknowledge that the great Puritan
had accomplished what no legitimate monarch had done
before him. After his arms had subjugated the three king.
doims, lie began to contend for the dominion of the seas




680           THE COMMONWEALTH
His brother in the faith, Robert Blake,* transferred the
spirit of Puritan warfare to the navy, drove the royalist
corsairs, Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice, before him,
humbled Portugal, and, after a long struggle, conquered
Holland-the great maritime state of the age. England
entered into the northern coalition, joined France in an
alliance against Spain, and soon there was no complication in Europe, great or small, in which Cromwell did not
take part. He made himself the guardian of definite interests on the Continent. Protestantism had a strong support in him.  He even interposed at Turin, to gain more
liberty for some Waldensian communities in Savoy. Even
Louis XIV. did not refuse his homage. It went against him
to address the murderer of his uncle as "Mon cousin;"
but he said to his minister, "And even if you had to call
him' Mon p;ere,' you would be obliged to do it, for he is
the most powerful man in Europe."
The diplomatic representatives of the young republic had
not met with a friendly reception anywhere abroad; but at
the Hague and Madrid they had been received with open
enmity. Scotch emigrants at the former had assassinated
the English ambassador, Doreslaus, in May, I649; and in
the following year, at Madrid, an agent of Parliament had
also been murdered by Englishmen as he sat with loaded
pistols at table, and in both places public opinion had sided
with the murderers.  From  the connection between the
house of Orange and the Stuarts it was not to be expected,
if the former retained any influence, that it would fall into
the scale of the republic. While the Spanish Government
interposed with some severity about the murder of the
ambassador, the court of Orange became the centre of all
sorts of intrigues against the republic, and permitted the
new ambassador, St. John, to be publicly ill used. Although
they had themselves risen out of revolution, the Orange
family behaved as if they had been the oldest legitimate
power in Europe. Cromwell had least of all expected this
from Holland. He had projected an alliance, offensive
and defensive, between the two republics, a common policy
of their Protestant and republican interests against the
encroaching system of absolute Catholic monarchy.
~ Robert Blake, Admiral and General-at-Sea: basd on family and
State papers. By Hepworth Dixon, I858.




THE NAVIGATION ACT.               68i
But there was no inclination for this in Holland; they
only beheld in Cromwell the dangerous rival on the seas,
whose supremacy would only have been strengthened by
such a league.
The little naval war with Holland was already going on,
when a step was taken by England of the utmost fundamental and practical importance.
The Navigation Act of i651, without mentioning Holland by name, struck a mortal blow at her commerce. It
consisted, with very little exception, of the exchange of
wares produced not at home but in foreign countries. The
Navigation Act now ruled that all wares from abroad could
only be carried in English ships, under pain of confiscation
of the ship and cargo; all goods from the Continent only in
English ships, or in those of the country producing them.
T'l'he Dutch colonial and transit trade was by this measure
entirely cut off by the English market. This was the occasion of the following war; and so useful a measure was it
for England, that it was only a few years ago that she dispensed with this crutch. There was no better means of
establishing England's supremacy - maritime and cornmercial —and it did, in fact, lay the foundation of England's
greatness. The Dutch still had the first fleet in the world,
the best ships of war, the greatest naval heroes of the age;
and yet fate would have it that the admired admirals-Van
Tromp, De Ruyter, De Witt-had to strike their sails before
a hitherto unlknown sailor, Robert Blake.
The war began with the seizure of Dutch merchant
ships, soon reaching the number of a thousand, and was
decided by a number of naval engagements, greater or less,
in the course of which the Dutch Armada was nearly annihilated. The three days' engagement between Portland
and La Hogue, February, I653, and that of two days near
Dunkirk, June, i653, showed that the supremacy of the
young English fleet was indisputable. The Peace of April,
I654, was dictated by Cromwell. Holland had to submit
to the Navigation Act, to renounce the favour of the Stuarts,
and attach itself to Cromwvell's policy.
These were feats which not only won transitory fame,
they were lasting achievements; from this naval war dates
the position of the English fleet; from this Peace the undisputed sovereignty of England over the seas.
Cromwell had formed a just estimate of the importance




682           THE COMMONWEALTH.
of this policy to his domestic system. He had no need to
enter into many considerations by which legitimate powers
were hampered, but he must not expose himself to discredit:
his reputation was his sole title-deed; it must be kept clear
as the day.
In all these difficult complications, by a singular combination of skill and good fortune, he was successful, with
one exception, in the establishment of a permanent civil
domestic administration.
CROMTWELL'S CONSTITUTIONAL EXPERIMENTS.-DISMISSAL
OF THE LO~NG PARLIAMENT.-THE CONSTITUTION OF
DECEMBER,' 1653.
The " Commonwealth without King or Lords," as the
Republic was officially styled, was at first governed by a
Council of State composed of forty-one members, the
majority of whom were in Parliament, and this ruled in
accordance with the regulations of the Rump, the remnant
of the Long Parliament. The Council of State was entirely
in Cromwell's hands; but the Rump Parliament chose to
have a will of its own, and was a source of perpetual
embarrassment to him. As long as the war had lasted
against the Royalists in Scotland and Ireland, no great discord had come to light. In February, i652, both parties
had joined in an amnesty, but soon decided differences
arose out of various small discontents; war broke out
more and more between the army and Parliament. Parliament wished to get rid of the inconvenient and now
superfluous Saints, the army was tired of the everlasting
speech-makers, and was disposed to disperse them by force,
as they had done twice before.
Parliament no longer enjoyed any credit either with the
army or the nation.  Even at the time when the Purge
took place by means of the army, the doings of the
assembly were universally hated, and the army's coup d'.tat
had been very popular.
There were still fifty or sixty members of the old Parliament left, and their harsh and self-seeking administration
remained just as it was. A number of petitions poured in,
general discontent made itself heard about the way in which
members of Parliament managed the confiscated estates for
their own benefit or that of their relations, the number of




COMPLAINTS AGAINST PARLIAMENT.    683
unworthy officials sent by Parliament into the provinces to
look after the interests of their own relations, the injustice
of the Presbyterians, &c.
The army took up all these grievances, and, in stormy addresses, demanded the dismissal of these wrong-headed representatives of the country. Cromwell permitted these sentiments to increase till the question was ripe for interference.
At first he tried in Parliament itself, with the help of the
votes in his favour, to carry motions adapted to get rid of
this inconvenient Assembly. On the i3th of November, i652,
he succeeded in this by a motion which set a definite limit
to the existence of this everlasting Parliament. But they
could not come to any agreement as to the laws by which
the future House was to be constituted.
The Assembly wished to insure the re-election of its
members into the new Parliament, the army and Cromwell
wished for an entirely new House. They were involved
in a dispute ostensibly upon this point or that; but really
about the executive power and their own existence.
The discussion of the election laws took a course which
the army could but consider very unfavourable; it began to
consider that it was itself the only true Parliament, and
had more than once decidedly interfered as such.
In April, I653, the breach took place.
On receiving intelligence that the decisive question was to
be discussed on the morning of the 20oth of April, Cromwell
entered Parliament, and had the approaches to the House
occupied by the military. During the debate, he rose and
gave the assembly a catalogue of its sins, and finally informed them that they were no longer a Parliament; that
they had proved themselves unworthy of the name, and
must immediately leave the room. The doors then opened,
the musketeers entered and dispersed the assembly.
Cromwell now summoned an assembly of notables, as it
would have been called in France, from amongst his own
party. This was the Short, or Bare-bone Parliament, so called,
which met at Whitehall, r44 in number, in July, I653,
The flower of the Independent sect had seats in it, and
their doings were in unison with the spirit of this party.
The Short Parliament does not deserve the sport which is
made of it by nearly all parties in England.* Its attempts
* For a just estimate of it, see Ranke, iii. 417,




684           THE COMMONWEALTH
at reform were radical and thorough, and, though only
partially successful, they were meant in earnest, and struck
at all the real existing grievances in England. The attacks
upon the chaos of English law and criminal proceedings,
regulations about debtors, the establishment of the principle
of civil marriage,,the attack upon ecclesiastical tithes —all
this pioves a praiseworthy zeal to advance the interests of
the nation.
But these  projects occasioned  fearful embitterment
amongst all classes of the people, and Cromwell saw that
by changes so radical he would lose his last support in the
nation; but a programme was put forth for future times which
was not in vain.
Discord broke out in the assembly, and Cromwell's
musketeers were again of service. A project for a constitution was put forth by a minority of the notables, who,
however, had the army on its side, by which the assembly
placed the supreme power in the hands of a Lord Protector of the Republic, and conferred this dignity on
Cromwell.
The constitution of December, I653, bears less the
stamp of a revolutionary period than might have been
expected. Circumstances like those which then existed are
not generally adapted for the formation of good constitutions, but this one, considering the way in which it arose,
was a very commendable work, and contains much that the
Whigs to this day look upon as progress.
The Lord Protectorate was a constitutional office-, limited
by the army and Parliament, and was specially distinguished
from the monarchical dignity by the fact that, it was not
hereditary.
Law and justice were to be administered in the name
of the Lord Protector. He distributed offices and dignities,
had the right of pardon, except for murder and high treason,
and all confiscated property fell to him. In all other cases
he was bound to the Council and Parliament.
The Council of State consisted of twenty-five members,
and was chiefly composed of military men. The Protector
could neither nominate nor dismiss any member of it at his
own pleasure. When vacancies occurred he had to choose
in accordance with the proposals of the Council. It was
only in unison with the Council that he could decide on
questions of war and peace, or form alliances, dispose oi




THE CONSTITUTION OF I653.            685
the army, or proclaim regulations as provisional laws. They
also nominated the Lord Protector's successor.
The power of making laws belonged exclusively to Parliament, against the statutes of which the Protector's veto
only had a delaying power; all bills were to receive his
sanction, but if it was not given within twenty days, they
became law without it.
The standing army was to consist of 20,00ooo foot and
Io,ooo horse. The Protector had an absolute veto upon
the diminution of the means once voted for their support.
Parliament was to meet regularly every three years.
Should the Protector not keep to this rule, the Council was
to summon it, and, in case they also neglected to do
so, the sheriffs of the counties, under pain of high treason.
During the first five months of its meeting an ordinary Parliament could only be prorogued or dissolved with its own
consent; an extraordinary one, after three months.
Parliament was to number four hundred members for
England, thirty for Scotland, thirty for Ireland.  The
election laws secured, as far as possible, an equal representation of the classes possessing property; every one had
a vote, and was eligible for election who possessed ~2oo
of movable or immovable property, except Catholics and
rebels, who had fought against Parliament.
Rotten boroughs were disfranchised. The counties had
26i seats' in Parliament, and were more uniformly represented than has been the case before or since. The fault
of this constitution was not that it was too liberal. The
Whigs have often said, in relation to it, that their ideal also
was a State without a House of Lords, or a State Church,
based upon  universal suffrage.  No; the mistake was
that, according to this constitution, Cromwell governed only
with a democratic minority, while the powerful aristocratic
factors of the previous Upper House and the offended State
Church remained in the background. It was a question
whether these elements were not strong enough, without
taking part in Parliament, to render the whole system
untenable by passive resistance.
It was evidently a relief to Cromwell when the Constitution was solemnly inaugurated. On the I6th of December,
as holder of the new dignity, he received the homage of the
heads of the State amidst great pomp, took the oath to the
Constitution, and had the sword and great seal delivered to




686           THE COMMONWEALTL
him. The ceremony was much like an enthronement: he
was lord of the three kingdoms, as no king had been before
him; the title only Kas wanting to make him the equal of
sovereigns.
Then followed the glorious year I654: the brilliant peace
with Holland, the humiliation of Portugal, the treaties with
Sweden and Denmark, by which a projected coalition
against England was frustrated; in short, the beginning of
a commanding position on the Continent.
Cromwell now summoned his first constitutional Parliament for the 3rd of September, the anniversary of the victories
at Dunbar and Worcester.
The elections were perfectly free; there was no limitation
imposed, or even allowable influence used by the Government; and as the Royalists, either from shyness or timidity,
kept in the background, the votes were given to purely
democratic elements.
THE PARLIAMENT OF I654-5 AND THE MILITARY
GOVERNMENT.
On September 3rd, I654, Parliament met. Cromwell
delivered a proud speech. None of his utterances of this
kind are of the stiff and formal character of modern times;
they were the effusions of a man, not of the schools, but
of deeds, who, as he himself once said, considered it to be
his mission to "speak things."  He often lost himself in
misty reflections, or in edifying exposition. of passages of
Scripture; but on all decisive questions, the sound sense of
this wonderfully-gifted man was conspicuous. It was especially the case with this speech.
Cromwell spoke of the errors of the last Parliament, of
the desires of the Levellers, who wanted to turn things
upside down, and who therefore could not be allowed to
continue in power.
He said:-" As to the authority in the nation-to the
ranks and orders of men, whereby England hath been
known for hundreds of years-the'natural' magistracy
of the nation, was it not almost trampled underfoot by
men of levelling principles? I beseech you, did not that
levelling principle tend to the reducing of all to an equality?
which I think, if obtained, would not have lasted longs
And that the thing did and might well extend far is mani.




THE PARLIAMENT OF I654-5.             687
fest, because it was a pleasing voice to all poor men, and
truly not unwelcome to all bad men..    Such considerations and pretensions to'liberty of conscience,' what are
they leading us toward?  Liberty of conscience and liberty
of the subject,-two as glorious things to be contended for
as axy that God hath given us; yet both these abused for
the patronising of villanies! Insomuch, that it hath been
an ordinary thing to affirm,'that the restraining of
such pernicious notions was not in the magistrate's power.'.... So, likewise, the axe was laid to the root-of the
ministry.'It was Antichristian; it was Babylonish,' said
they.... The former extremity we suffered under was,
that no man, though he had never so good a testimony,
though he had received gifts from Christ, might preach
unless ordained. So now, I think, we are at the other
extremity, when many affirm that he who is ordained hath
a nullity, so that he ought not to preach, or not be
heard." *
Against these and other ruinous excrescences a remedy
had been found in the Constitution which might speak for
itself, but which must not be interfered with.
He then glanced at the foreign relations of the Republic,
mentioned the honourable treaties which had been concluded with Sweden, Denmark, Holland, and Portugal,
while a. similar one with France was in prospect. "And,"
he said, "I I daresay there is not a nation in Europe but is
very willing to ask a good understanding with you." He
concluded, among other things, with the words, "As I said
before, a door of hope is open. And I may say this to
you: If the Lord's blessing and his presence go along with
the management of affairs at this meeting, you will be
enabled to put the top-stone to t'he work, and make this
nation happy." f
At first Cromwell's hearers were affected by his lofty
modesty; but then the democratic spirit of the majority
felt repulsed by the advice to abide by what had been
accomplished, and to build upon the foundation already
laid.
His opinion was that the Constitution, without reference
to its origin, should now be expressly acknowledged as
* Cromwell's Letters and Speeches, vol. iii. p. 21, &c. (abridged.l)
t Ibid., p. 35.




688' ftEH  COMMONWEALTH.
legal, and that the previous fruitless strife should not begin
again.  But the democrats were of a different opinion.
They had not made the Constitution; conseqluently, it was
not binding on thein, and they rode their principles to
death in a way that is never more dangerous than at such
times.
Cromwell had hoped, with their help, to put an end to
the revolution; instead of that, they renewed the strife
which had given rise to it. He now delivered a second
warning speech.  He reminded them  that he had not
called himself to the office of Protector, but that he had
been called to it by the will of God and of the nation;
that the constitution was not his work, but the work of the
army. He says, "The soldiery were a very considerable
part of these nations, especially all government being dissolved, and nothing to keep things in order but the sword!
And yet they-which many histories will not parallel-even
they were desirous that things might come to a consistency;
and arbitrariness be taken away, and the government be
put into the hands of a person limited and bounded, as in
the Act of Settlement, whom they distrusted the least, and
loved not the worst."
"I have to say:-The wilful throwing away of this
government, such as it is, so owned by God, so approved
by men. were a thing which,-and in reference not to my
good, b:t to the good of these nations and of posterity,-I
can soonerbe willing to be rolled into my grave and buried
with infamy than I can give my consent unto. You have
been called hither to save a nation. Through the blessing
of God, our enemies were hopeless and scattered. We had
peace at home. These things we had a few days ago when
you came hither. And now? And now to have our peace
and interest thus shaken, and ourselves rendered hereby
almost the scorn and contempt of those strangers who are
amongst us to negotiate their masters' affairs. To give
them opportunity to see our nakedness as they do, a people
that have been unhinged this twelve-years day, and are unhinged still?-as if scattering, division, and confusion came
upon us like things we desired.
"Who can answer for these things to God or to men-to
the people who sent you hither, who looked for nothing but
peace and quietness, and rest and settlement? When we
come to give an account to them, we shall have it to say,




CROMWELL AND  PARLIAMENT.               689' Oh, we quarrelled for the liberty of England.' The liberty
of England, the liberty of the people, is made so safe by
this Act of Settlement, that it will speak for itself." *
In conclusion, he demanded from all the members a written declaration that they acknowledged the Constitution as
legal, a proviso that was specially made in the writ= for
future representatives. The majority signed, but the proceedings did not take a more favourable course. The
assembly persisted in not considering itself a legislative
assembly, but as one whose object it was to form a constitution in placing the sovereignty of the people above
every other consideration, thus again rendering the existing
state of things entirely uncertain.
On the 22nd of January, x655, he made a third speech,
and represented to them the fruitlessness of their contention
about trifles. "Instead of peace and settlement-weeds,
nettles, briers, and thorns have thriven under your shadow I
I say, the enemies of the peace of these nations abroad and
at home, the discontented humours throughout these
nations, by which products I think no man will grudge to
call by that name, of briers and thorns,-they have nourished
themselves under your shadow! They have taken their
opportunities from your sitting to conclude that there would
be no settlement?"'1
After a long and severe lecture in this tone he dissolved
the Parliament.
The Royalists looked on with no little satisfaction. To
see the great Independent at variance with his own party,
the new order of things overturned at the very outset; was
more than they had hoped for. They thought that the
harvest was ripe. Conspiracies were set on foot, a great
revolt was prepared, when Cromwell interposed with his
usual energy and usual success. The democrats also began
to stir; an adventurer preached in the streets of London
that the traitor should be got rid of, and a pamphlet came
out called " Killing no Murder."
But Cromwell was a match for his enemies, and it is'Interesting to observe how he proceeds. The Royalist
leaders were treated with all the severity of the law; they
were  executed, and their misguided  accomplices were
~ Cromwell's Letters and Speeches, extract from Speech III., p. 40
* Letters and Speeches, p. 76.
44




690           THE COMMONWEALTH.
treated with comparative leniency; precisely the way in
which a ruler in such circumstances should act. Against
his old democratic foes he could not restrain a certain
amount of irritation; they were tried, imprisoned, and afterwards privately released.
A more strict domestic administration was introduced.
The country was divided into thirteen districts, each under
the command of a Major-general, who was intrusted with
extensive authority.
In each of these thirteen districts a militia was levied
under command of the Major-general, and supported by an
income-tax of a tenth imposed upon the Royalists. This
militia maintained order and security in town and country,
and put'a strict moral discipline in force after the fashion of
Calvinistic Geneva. Themselves subjected to a relentless
discipline, they saw that the laws against drunkenness,
cursing, and swearing were strictly carried out. All publichouses not absolutely indispensable were suppressed, horseracing, cock-fighting, and plays forbidden.
Each district thus had its own independent militia, and a
trustworthy general as governor; such a government could
not be surprised by any couzp d'etat from the right or the left.
To Cromwell's honour it must be said that, under the
form of military despotism, he ruled as liberally as possible,
and that the warfare which he was obliged to wage to the
end did not make him hardened or gloomy.
Above all things, under him the nation enjoyed a liberty
of conscience which was before unknown; this raises him
high above all parties.
In 1656, he could say to Parliament, " Our practice since
the last Parliament hath been to let all this nation see that
whatever pretensions to religion would continue quiet,
peaceable, they should enjoy conscience and liberty to
themselves; and not to make religion a pretence for arms
and blood. If men will profess,-be they those under
Baptism, be they those of the Independent judgment
simply, or of the Presbyterian judgment,-in the name of
God encourage them, countenance them; so long as they
do plainly continue to be thankful to God, and to make use
of the liberty given them to enjoy their own consciences I
Men who believe in Jesus Christ, and walking in a profession answerable to that faith, who live upon the grace of
God —they are the members of Jesus Christ, and are to Him




nEFECT OF SUCCESS ON CROMWELL.    691
the apple of his eye. Whoever hath this Faith, let his form
be what it will, he walking peaceably, without prejudice to
others under other forms; it is a debt due to God and
Christ. If a man of one form will be trampling upon the
heels of another form; if an Independent, for example, will
despise him who is under Baptism, I will not suffer it in
him. If, on the other side, those of the Anabaptist judgment
shall be censuring the Godly ministers of the nation who
profess under that of Independency, or if those that profess
under Presbytery shall be reproaching, traducing, and censuring of them as I would not be willing to see the day
when England shall be in the power of the Presbytery, to
impose upon the consciences of others-so I will not
endure any reproach to them. But God give us hearts and
spirits to keep things equal. I have had some boxes on
the ear and rebukes-on the one hand and the other; some
censuring me for Presbytery; others as an inletter to all
the sects and heresies of the nation. I have borne my
reproach; but I have, through God's mercy, not been unhappy in hindering any one religion to impose upon
another." *
Cromwell did not abolish the strict laws against the
Catholics, because as a party backed by the Jesuits they
could but be always the enemies of his system; but he
administered them leniently, or did not enforce them when
the Catholics fulfilled the duties of good citizens. Jews,
also, and Quakers, enjoyed his clemency, which was quite
in contrast to the general' practice of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries.
It also appeared to be his wish to show, by the liberty of
the press and the election laws, that in spite of his usurped
power, and the severe forms under which it was often
exercised, England enjoyed more liberty under him than
under many a government before him and around him.
He often used to say to the Democrats, " Patience; when
I am no more you will see what sort of liberty the Stuarts
will give you."
Characters like his, amidst such bitter experience, often
become harsh, defiant, and misanthropic; but Cromwell
seemed to be softened rather than embittered by it; and it
is one of the great features in the character of the man,
* Letters qnd Speeches, col ill p. 181.




692           THE COMMONWEALTH.
that, rising to European greatness from a modest position, he
proved himself no less able to bear success than misfortune
and trial.
All that is great and glorious in a gifted nation found in
him a zealous protector; learning flourished under him, and
the great poet and thinker, John Milton, was among his
most intimate friends.
PARLIAMENT OF I656-7. —PROPOSAL OF A MONARCHY.CROMWELL'S DEATH, SEPTEMBER 3RD, I658.
A new Parliament became necessary to provide means
for the war which Cromwell had undertaken, in conjunction
with France, against Spain. He had caused Penn to set sail
for America, and Blake to the Spanish waters, with despotic
powers. The Spaniards had laid an embargo on the English ships, and thereby inflicted great injury on the commerce of England before any compensating advantage
had accrued; for the immense sacrifices demanded by the
war, neither the ordinary resources, nor the tax upon the
Royalists, sufficed. He therefore resolved to summon a
new Parliament.
He hoped that having taken a lesson from the fate of its
predecessor, it would take a view of things more favourable
to him. The elections did in fact turn out better, and even
the Royalists began to be more reconciled both to him and
his system.
Parliament was opened on the i7th of September, I656.
It was of importance for the money question that just then
Blake and Montague had the good fortune to capture a
fleet of Spanish ships in Portuguese waters, laden with
silver, which yielded a booty of a million sterling.
The house was divided into two very decided parties-a
republican-military and a constitutional one; which last, in
order to put an end to uncertainty, perpetual conspiracies and
outrages, projected the establishment of a new monarchy.
At the beginning of the year I657, the proposal was
made that the Lord Protector should conform to the ancient monarchical constitution, and exchange the title of a
republican official for that of King. The proposal came
from Cromwell's friends; and in spite of the loud murmurs
of the majors-general, the motion was carried for a change
in the constitution towards a mou archical form.




PROPOSAL OF A MONARCHY.              693
A monarchy could not be created on the basis of the
democratic constitution of I653. It was necessary to go
further —to restore the Upper House, to try to attract once
more the aristocratic elements in the country; and when
the great landowning interest was again represented in thte
government, it might be hoped that the monarchy itself
would take root. This was also Cromwell's idea. He had
succeeded in much in which previous governments had
failed. If he could now succeed also in giving fresh sup.
port to his work by restoring their rights to the old conservative elements-the nobles and the State Church, thereby
reconciling them to himself and his system, he might hope
that it was founded for future times.
Let it not be supposed that this attempt arose from the
petty human vanity of the parvenu. Among all his motives, this had less weight than any. A remarkable change
had taken place within him. He had learnt much from
recent experience; he had learnt that it was impossible to
govern this country in peace with a purely democratic
representation and a purely military administration, if the
great landowning interest, which ruled the counties socially,
maintained a hostile or passive attitude.  He therefore
wished to come to terms with these sulky foes, and the
contemporary sources of information assure us that had he
succeeded in this, the restoration of the Stuarts would have
been impossible.  The new monarchy would have been
reconciled with the ancient conditions of law and power.
Cromwell had never been in a more delicate position.
On the one hand, he saw before him the highest aim of
political ambition; on the other, a step which might rob
him of the fruits of the labours of his life.
The obscurity of his first utterances on the subject of
this proposal are perfectly intelligible.  It is plain that
he wishes to gain time, to take counsel with himself; and
what he said in confidence, proved the real indecision of
his state of mind. When the mover came and told him
that -the matter looked well, Cromwell laughed, and said,
"Thou foolish fellow! "
He cared but little for Parliament, but a great deal for
the army, and there was no doubt whatever as to the
opinion of that. When he sounded his generals, he heard
but one voice.- His old comrades would not hear of a king.
"A king," they said, " is a tyrant; we will not have one."




~694I THEB CO0 MONWEALTH.
The aversion of the army, therefore, upon whose
shoulders he had risen, was indubitable.  He did not
thwart it; it might be contrary to his own wishes, but he
knew what the decision must be. Many a great man in a
similar position has not been able to withstand the temptation of sacrificing the firm foundation of his power to a
more brilliant position.  Cromwell was great enough- to
withstand it, to resolve not to break with those who had
raised him up. He knew how little the transitory friendship of the Royalists would avail him,* whom  the first
breeze would probably blow from his side; and rightly
estimated that the defection of his Saints would be of far
greater importance. He therefore declined the crown, and
said in his answer that he would be content to remain the
first constable of tlhe nation. On the other hand, he prevailed upon Parlia.ment to permit the establishment of an
Upper House, and only accepted as his prerogative the
favour of naming his successor.
Thus a monarchy was averted, but an important step
towards it was taken by the creation of a House of Lords in
order to reconcile the Conservatives to the revolution.
It was difficult to fill the House in a satisfactory manner;
the great families kept aloof, and in their place relations
and complaisant partisans had to be chosen from among
the lawyers and officers; and many of the latter had been
draymen, tailors, or other artisans. Worse than this was
the conflict which broke out between the two Houses immediately afte: they assembled, on the 2oth of January, x658,
by which thz very foundations of the Cromwellian constitution were again endangered. The Commons vehemently
declared that there was no House of Lords, it had been
legally abolished, and every one of them had taken the
oath to the "Commonwealth without King or House of
Lords."  I: vain Cromwell endeavoured to mediate; the
discord could not be healed, and on the 4th of February,
I658, he was compelled to dissolve this Parliament also.
He did it with the words, "And let God judge between
you and me."
More successful than this attempt to close the revolution
by the construction of a peaceful constitution, was the Pro
tector's foreign policy.
For their opinion see the report of Giavarina.-Ranke, i. SU$




CROMWELL'S DEATHI                 695
The defensive alliance with France had, in March, i657,
assumed an offensive character. Mardyke and Dunkirk
were conquered by the English, Jamaica maintained against
the Spaniards. The star of the English arms, the European
position of the Protector were in their zenith, when, on
September 3rd, an eventful day for his destiny, he died.
His death softened many a bitter feeling, people now
knew what they had lost. England had never been more
powerful than under him, she had become the first empire
in Europe; even Louis XIV. and Mazarin bowed down
before him; all the great powers of the Continent felt his
influence, which was not only the result of English commerce, but of the great modern ideas of liberty of conscience and the Reformation.
Apart from Oliver's past history, no man ever occupied a
throne more worthily than he did; and never did a revolutionary usurper so spare the germs of civil liberty.
This was the salvation of England: she would have bled
to death under the Stuarts, if the traces of his labours
could have been so speedily lost; and it was his memory
which finally ruined them.
Calmly and with undisputed right, like a legitimate successor to a throne, Cromwell's son, Richard, assumed the
office of Protector; but his government was weak and
incompetent in every respect. Having _arly lost his energy
through a dissolute youth, he preferred the pleasures of life
to the difficult calling of a ruler. As things would not go
on as he wished of themselves, in May, i659, he resigned.
The generals who governed the districts of the country
divided the inheritance; and a state of things ensued, in
which the oppression of usurpation was felt tenfold, and
which yet did not bring with it the greatness and security
for the sake of which so much had been forgiven to Cromwell. This anarchical despotism of the generals, the conflicts between the republican and royalist parties, was the
best preparation for a state of mind to which the restoration of the Stuarts seemed like redemption. Amidst the
acclamations of the people, and the gloomy silence of the
Indlependents, Charles II. was recalled, the defunct Rump
Parliament brought to life again; and the same Parliament
which had once decreed the fall of the Stuarts now sealed
their restoration.








INDEX
Adrian XLI., 89.                 Beza, 246, 359.
Alba, Duke of, in the Nether-   Blake, Robert, 680, 68I.
lands, 316, 317.               Bohemia, Persecution  in, 4t5.
-,  Retreat of, 328.               426.
Alexander of Parma, 340o.        ~  -, War in, 609, 6Io.
Anhalt, Wilhelm von, 5.          Bothwell, Earl of, 587-589.
Anjou, Duke of, 377.             Breitenfield, Battle of, 470.
Augsburg, Confession of, 122.    Brunswick, Duke Henry of, 192.
Diet of, 120.           Buckingham, Duke of, 614, 619,
~ —-, Interim of, 2I5.           620, 623., Peace of, 403-405.     Bull against Luther, 27.
Austria, Don John of, 338-340o.
Cajetan, 8, I9.
Bacon, Lord, Trial of, 609.             at Augsburg, 31.
Baner, 526-528, 538.             Calais, Loss of, 572.
Barcelona, Peace of, 112.        Calmar, Union of, 143,
Barebone Parliament, 683.        Calvin, 24I.
Barlaymont, 296, 307.            -, his Youth, 24I.
Bdrwald, Treaty ol, 466.         -, his  Institutio  Christiana
Battle of Breitenfeld, 470.        Religionis, 243.
-      of Copraby Bridge, 658.   -, Exile and Recall, 248.
-of Dunbar, 678.             -, his Ecclesiastical State of
-      of Edge Hill, 653.          Geneva, 248-25I.
of Liitzen, 480.           Calvinism, Significance of, 253-      of Marston Moor, 658.       255.
-      of Mooker Haide, 332.     Campaign of I521-26, 55.
- of Miihlberg, 2I3.           Carlstadt, 22.
-   of Naseby, 664.              Catherine de Medici, 346, 347,
-     of Newbury, 654.             349, 355, 359, 374.
of N5rdlingen, 516, 517.    Charles V., 32-39.
-   of Pavia, 58.,. Election of, 35.
- of Prague, 423., Election Bond, 36.
of Worcester, 679., Character and Policy,
Bavaria, Duke Maximilian of, 41o-  40, 41.
412.                             -, Defeat of, 233.
Beggars, 306., Abdication of, 235.
Beggars' League, 3II.                —, Cloister Life of, a36.
Bernhard  of Weimar 502-50o5,  Charles IX., 356, 364, 368.
522-525, 528-536.                               O, Death of, 374



698                       DINE
Charles IX. of Sweden, 450, 45I.  Cromwell, his  "Saints,"  66s,
Charles I., 616-672.              665, 666, 674, 676, 682.
-, Breach  with Parlia-, Letter to Hammond,
ment, 641.                      670..-.. -, in Scotland, 64.    -         and Louis XIV.,68fo......,sold to the Scotch, 665.,as Protector, 684, 695.
------ —, Escape to the Isle of  -----—, Speeches of, 686,
Wight, 668.                     688, 690., T-ial of, 671.                -, Proposal to make.~ —-—, Execution of, 672.       King, 692, 694., Results of his Death,, his Foreign Policy,
673.                            694.
---- and Louis XVI., Paral-  -, Religious  Liberty
lel between, 673.               under, 69I.
Christian II. of Denmark, I46-        -, Death of, 695.
I50.                          Cromwell, Richard, 695.
Christian III. of Denmark, 152.
Christian IV. of Denmark, 430,  D'Albret, Jeanne, 353, 358.
43I.                          D'Ancre, Marshal, 478.
Church of England, 576, 577.    Davison, Secretary, 598.
The French, 349.         De Donatione Constantini, 79.
Civil War, The, 651-672.        Del Beneficio di Giesu Cristo, 257,
Clement VII., I I.                274.
Cognac, Treaty of, I o0.        Diet of Augsburg, I20.
Coligny, 366-369.                -  of Nuremberg, 70.
College des Trois Langues, 350.   -   of Ratisbon, 542.
Commonwealth, The, 673-695.          of Worms, 42-47.
Conference of German and Swiss  Donauwfrth, 410-412.
Reformers at Marburg, II9.    Dunbar, Battle of, 678.
Confession of Augsburg, I22.
Congress of Miinster and Osna.  Edge Hill, Battle of, 653.
briuck, 547.                  Edict of Amboise, 362.
a —-    -- -,  Territorial    -   of Longjumeaux, 363.
Questions at, 549, 550.             of Nantes, 394, 395.
—,   Religious         of Restitution, 438-441.
Questions at, 553-556. — of St. Germain, 359.
-. —,   Political  Edinburgh, Riots at, 632.
Regulations at, 556-559.      Edward VI., 562-565.
Conspiracy of Amboise, 353, 354.  Elizabeth, Queen, 574-602.
Constitution of I653, 685.      -      -, Estimate of, 574.
Ratisbon, 91.,  her Attitude to.
Convention of Leipzig, 467, 468.  wards Catholicism, 575, 576.
Copraby Bridge, Battle of, 658.    ---   -,  her Treatment
Cotta, Conrad, 5.                 of Mary Stuart, 590.
Council of Blood, 319, 320.           -, Plots against
of Trent, 218-220, 258-    594-596.
264.                   -                      her Speech at
Covenant, The, 633.               Tilbury, 600.
Cranmer, 563., Death of, 602.
~ —-,  Death of, 571.           Eric XIV. of Sweden, 445, 446.
Cromwell, 658-695.
--, Overtures of Charles   Fairfax, 654, 657, 663, 665.
L to, 668,                    Farel, 246.




INDEX.                         699
Ferdinand II., 4!6-420, 545-     Henry VIII., Confusion left by,
Five Members, arrest of the,    56I.
647.                           -, his Marriages, 56X.
France, growth of powerin, 47-51.  Herrman von Wied, I94.
Francis I., 32-35, 51-55.        High Commission, The, 627.
Francis II., 352, 355.           Holland, War with, 680, 681.
Franz von Sickingen, 8I-85.      Horn, Admiral, 306, 3I0.... ------    his Attack   Huguenots, The, 358.
on Treves, 85.                 Humanism in France, 350..... ~   ~      -, -his Death,   Humanists, the German, 25, 77.
86.                            Huss, 24, 26.
Frederic V. of the Palatinate,
420-423, 609, 6IO.             Imperial Chamber, 68-70.
Frederick the Wise, 27, 32, 45.    Independents, The, 656, 657.
French Protestantism, 352, 353.    Indulgences, I6, 17.
Inquisition, 273-275.
General Assembly, The, 633.      - -    in the Netherlands, 299,
German Empire, Decay of the,    300.
556-559.                       Interim of Augsburg, 215.
Ghent, Pacification of, 337, 338.   Italy and the Reformation, 256.
Granvella, Cardinal, 294-295, 302,
303.                           James I., 603-6x5.
Great Remonstrance, The, 645,    —, his Character, 6o4.
646., Death of, 6I5.
Grey, Lady Jane, 564, 565.       Jesuitism, 265.
Guise, Mary of, 348.             Jesuits, Order of, 268-273.
Guises, The, 348.                John Frederick, of Saxony, 212,
Gunpowder Plot, 6o6.               213.
Gustavus Adolphus, 450-482., Treatment of, by, in Germany,    Charles V., 222.
458-46i.                       John III. of Sweden, 446, 449.
-   -, Projects of,  John of Leyden, I84.
473-476.                       John of Werth, 526, 527.. a4,    Death of,  Justification by Faith, 8-Io.
480-482.
Gustavus Vasa, I53-I62.          Killing no Murder, 689.
Klesel, Cardinal, 417, 4I8.
Hampden, John, 629, 63o.         Knox, John, 580-582.
Heilbronn Scheme, Ioo.
Henry II. of France, 345.        La Rochelle, 620.
Henry III. of France, 375-377,  Laud, Archbishop, 625-627.
379, 380.                      Laurentius Valla, 79., Murder of, 381.       Leipzig, Convention of, 467, 468.
Henry IV. of France, 382-395.    Leo X., I9, 89., his Conversion to Ca-  Leyden, Siege of, 333.
tholicism, 391-393.            Long Parliament, 636-638., Assassination of, 401.,  Dismissal od
Henry VIII., I66-i68.              the, 683....... and Luther, I69.         Louis of Nassau, 305.
and  the  Marriage    -   Death of, 332.
Question, I69-173.             Louis XIII., 487-489.: —...... ConfiscationofChurch   Louis XIV., 549.
Propert under, 176.            Loyola, Ignatius, 266, 26y.




700                        INDEXA
Luther, 2.                       Massacre of Vassy, 360.,hii Youth, 3-5.                    of Protestants in Ire., at Zisenach, 5.            land, 643.
-—, at Erfurt, 6, 7.        Matthias, Emperor, 413., at Wittenberg, 13.       Maurice of Saxony, 200-209., his Preaching, 14.       -, Distrust of, 212,, his Journey to Rome, 14.   217., his Theses, I8.., his Treachery to
—, Discussion with Cajetan,    the Emperor, 226-231.
20.                            Maximilian I., 29-32.
-~-, his Appeal to the Pope,  Maximilian II., 407.
21.                            Melancthon, 26.
--—, Discussion with Eck, at  Miltitz, 20-22.
Leipzig, 23.                   Monopolies, 608.
-, his Address to the Ger-  Mooker Haide, Battle of, 332.
man Nobles, 27.                Miihlberg, Battle of, 213.
-, at Worms, 43, 44.        Miinzer, Thomas, 102., at the Wartburg, 60.     Mutiny of the Army against Par.
_ —__, his Translation  of ~the    liament, 667.
Bible, 6-65.
-, and the Radicals, 65-68.  Naseby, Battle of,-664.
~ —-, his Attitude in the Pea-  Navigation Act, 68I.
sants' War, Io2.               Netherlands, Revolt of the, a88.
_ —, his Death, I98.           Newbury, Battle of, 654.
Lutzen, Battle of, 480.          Nbrdlingen, Battle of, 5s6, 517.
Norfolk, Duke of, his Conspiracy,
Madrid, Peace of, io6.             591, 592Magdeburg, Siege of, 469.        Northumberland, Duke of, 562.
Magna Chlirta, I64.              Nuremberg, Peace of, 124.
Mansfeld, General, 435.
Margaret of Parma, 293, 307-309,  Orange,William of, 290-292, 304
313, 314.                        3056, 310-312, 321, 322, 330.
Marston Moor, Battle of, 658., as Stadtholder, 342.
Mary of Medici, 484.             -, Estimate of, 342.
Mary, Queen, 565-573.            -, Assassination, 343., Estimate of, 565.    Otto von Pack, I 13., Catholic  Reaction   Oxenstierna, 481, 501, 504, 505.
under, 567-569.
-, Marriage with Philip   Pardon Tickets, 17.
II., 570.                      Parliamentary Army, The, 649.
-, Death of, 573.        Paul IV., Pope, 572.
Marry Stuart, 348, 578, 579.     Pavia, Battle of, 58., in Scotland, 583-  Peace of Augsburg, 4o3-4o5.
589.                                   Barcelona, 112., her Marriage with           Madrid, Io6.
Darnley, 585.                           Niilemberg, 124.
* —     —, Imprisonment in         -    Prague, 520-522.
England, 589, 590.  -St. Germain en Layp,..-      -, Trial of, 597.         363.
-, Execution of, 598.       -       estphalia, 546-559.
Massacre of St. Bartholomew,  Peasantry, Oppression of, 93.
366, 369-374, 593.             Peasants' War, g2.
- in the Valteline, 498., Twelve Ardle, 96




INDX:                           701
Peasants, Defeat of the, Io4.    St. Germain en Layc, Peace eo
Petition of Right, 622.            363.
Philip of Hesse, 121, 187.       Saxony, Duke George of, I89.
-, Arrest of, 214.    Schmalkald League, 123, i8o, i82.
-, his Base Treat-  -     ----- War, I96.
ment of two princes, 222-225.    Sea Beggars, 326, 329, 333.
Philip II., 276, 279-281.        Seventeen Provinces oftheNether.
- -----, his Policy, 282.        lands, 285-290.
Pilsen, Bond of, 511, 512.       Seymour, Duke of Somerset, 562.
Pltot of Savage and Babington,   Ship Money, 628.
596.                           Siege of Leyden, 333.
Pole, Cardinal, 568.                     Magdeburg, 469.
Pragmatic Sanction, 221.         Six Articles of 1539 in England,
Prague, Peace of, 520-522.         I78.
Presbyterians, 655.              Sorbonne, The, 350, 351.
Pride's Purge, 670.              Spain  under  Charles V. and
Protectorate, The, 562.            Philip II., 280-282.
Protest of Parliament, i62I, 612.   Spanish Armada, 598-60o.
Prtestantism in Austria, 407.    --- Marriage Scheme, 613,
Pym, 635.                          614.
Star Chamber, The, 6a6, 627.
Stemmata, -378, 379.
Ratisbon, Convention of, gi.     Stettin, Occupation of, 464.
Reformation in England. comple.   Strafford, Earl of, 625.
tion of, 560..         -, Trial and Execution of,
under Edward VI.,    638-640.
563-565.                       Stuarts, The, 583.
in  Scotland, 579,  Subjugation of Ireland and Scot.
580.                            land, 677, 678.
in Switzerland, I25.   Sully, 396-400.
a —--- ---—, Results of up to
1555, 236-240.                Tax of ioth Penny, 324.
Reformed Zurich, 136.            Tetzel, II.
Religious Wars in France, 345-  Thirty Years' War, First Phase
401.                             of, 415-443.
Republic, End of the, 695., Second Phase
Requesens y Zuniga, 331.           of, 444-482, his Death,  -         -, Third Phase
335.                             of, 483-536.
Restoration in Wiirtemberg, 182,    _       -, End of, 537183.                            545.
Reuchlin, I9, 77..-,   Barbarities
Revolt of the Netherlands, 285.    during, 557.
Richelieu, Cardinal, 465,466, 488-, Devastation
492.                             caused by, 557......- -, his policy,  Tonnage and Poundage, 6I8, 6I9,
492-498.                         623Riots at Edinburgh, 632.         Torstenson, 539, 540.
WRzzio, David, 586, 587.         Transubstantiation,  119.
Royal Charter of Bohemia, 409,  Treaty of Barwald, 466.
4I0.                 -                  Cappel, I40.
Rudolph II., 408-410o, 4I3... Cognac, II0.
Rudyard, Speeches of, 6I7, 621.   Turks before Vienna, II6.




702                        INDEX.
Ulrich von Hgtten, 25, 72-75.    Wallenstein, 431-438, 441-443o........., his Writings,    505-51376.                            -, Dismissal of, 442..I........ ~,  his Philippics I, Recall of, 477,
against Urich.of Wiirtemberg,   478.
76.                            -       -, Assassination of,, as aReformer,    512, 5I3.
79.                            War of the three Henrys, 378.
and  Luther,   Westphalia, Peace of, 262-279.
80.                            Winter Kingdom, The, 420-423., his Death, 87.  Worcester, Battle of, 679.
Ulrich ofWfiirtemberg, Duke, I8I,  Wrangel, General, 542.
Ultimatum of Parliament, 562.
Utretch, Union of, 341, 342.     Znaym, Treaty of, 478, 479.
Zurich and the Forest Canton%
Valois, House of, 346, 347         138.
Viglius, 295, 303.               Zwingli, 125-13Q
ViCae;.s46.                      --    Death oi, 14.