CHAPTER VI

Luther’s courage—Bugenhagen at Wittemberg—Persecutions in Pomerania—Melancthon wishes to set out with Luther—Amsdorff—Schurff—Suaven—Hütten to Charles V.

It was the 24th of March. The imperial herald, Gaspard Sturm, having at length passed the gates of the town where Luther was, presented himself before the doctor, and put the summons of Charles V into his hands. A grave and solemn moment for the Reformer! All his friends were in consternation. No prince, not even excepting Frederick the Wise, had as yet declared in his favour. Knights, it is true, uttered menaces, but the mighty Charles despised them. Still Luther was not troubled. “The papists,” said he, on seeing the anguish of his friends, “have no wish for my arrival at Worms, they only wish my condemnation and death. No matter, pray not for me, but for the Word of God. Before my blood is cold, thousands throughout the world will be called to answer for having shed it. The most holy adversary of Christ, the father, master, and generalissimo of homicides, insists on having my life. Amen! Let the will of the Lord be done. Christ will give me his Spirit to vanquish these ministers of error. I despise them during my life, and will triumph over them by my death. They are doing all they can at Worms, to compel me to retract. Here then will be my retractation: I once said, that the pope was the vicar of Christ; now, I say that he is the enemy of the Lord, and the apostle of the devil.” And when he learned that all the pulpits of the Franciscans were resounding with imprecations and maledictions against him, he exclaimed, “O what wondrous joy it gives me!” He knew that he had done the will of God, and that God was with him; why then should he not set out boldly? This purity of intention, this liberty of conscience is a hidden power of incalculable might which never fails the servant of God, and which makes him more invincible than helmets and armied hosts could make him. At this time arrived at Wittemberg a man who, like Melancthon, was destined to be Luther’s friend through life, and to console him at the moment of his departure. It was a priest of thirty-six years of age, named Bugenhagen, who had fled from the severities with which the Bishop of Camin, and Prince Bogislas of Pomerania, persecuted the friends of the gospel of all classes—clergy, citizens, and literati.³ Of a senatorial family at Wollin in Pomerania, from which he is commonly called ‘Pomeranus, Bugenhagen, at twenty years of age, began to teach at Treptow. Youth flocked to hear him, while nobles and learned men vied with each other for his society. He was a diligent student of the Holy Scriptures, and prayed to God to instruct him. One day towards the end of December, 1520, when he was supping with several friends, Luther’s treatise on the Captivity of Babylon was put into his hands. After turning it over, he exclaimed, “Many heretics have infested the Church since our Saviour died, but never was there one more pestilential than the author of this work.” Having taken the book home with him, and read it over and over, his views entirely changed; new truths presented themselves to his mind, and returning some days afterwards to his companions, he said to them, “The whole world is fallen into Cimmerian darkness. This man and none but he sees the truth.” Some priests, a deacon, even the abbot himself, received the pure doctrine of salvation, and preaching it with power, soon,” (says a historian,) “turned away their hearers from human superstitions to the sole efficacious merit of Jesus Christ.⁶ “Then persecution burst forth. Several were already immured in dungeons, when Bugenhagen escaped from his enemies, and arrived at Wittemberg. “He suffers for the love of the gospel,” immediately wrote Melancthon to the Elector’s chaplain, “where could he fly if not to our ασυλον (asylum,) to the protection of our prince?” But none received Bugenhagen with so much delight as Luther. It was arranged between them that, immediately after the Reformer’s departure, Bugenhagen should begin to expound the Psalms. Thus divine Providence brought this powerful mind to aid in supplying the place of him whom Wittemberg was going to lose. Placed a year after at the head of the church of this town, Bugenhagen presided over it for thirty-six years. Luther distinguished him by the name of The Pastor.

Luther behoved to depart. His alarmed friends thought that unless God miraculously interposed, he was going to death. Melancthon, who had left his native country, had become attached to Luther with all the affection of his soul. “Luther,” said he, “is to me in place of all my friends: I feel him to be greater and more admirable than I can express. You know how Alcibiades admired his Socrates; but I admire Luther in a higher sense, for he is a Christian.” Then he added the simple but beautiful expression, “Every time I contemplate him, I find him even greater than himself.”² Melancthon wished to follow Luther in his dangers. But their common friends, and doubtless the doctor himself, were against it. Must not Philip supply the place of his friend? and, should that friend never return, who would direct the cause of the Reformation? “Ah! would to God,” said Melancthon, resigned, but grieved, “would to God I had been allowed to go with him.” The ardent Amsdorff immediately declared that he would accompany the doctor. His strong soul felt a pleasure in exposing itself to danger. His high bearing enabled him to appear fearless before an assembly of kings. The Elector had invited to Wittemberg, as professor of law, Jerome Schurff, the son of a physician of St. Gall, a celebrated man, of great meekness of temper, and a very intimate friend of Luther. “He has not yet summoned up courage,” said Luther, “to pronounce sentence of death on a single malefactor. Yet this timid individual volunteered to act as the doctor’s counsel on this dangerous journey. A young Danish student named Peter Suaven, who boarded with Melancthon, and afterwards distinguished himself by his labours in Pomerania and Denmark, also declared that he would accompany his master. The youth in schools were entitled to have their representative beside the champion of truth.

Germany was moved at the thought of the dangers which threatened the representative of her people, and found a voice well fitted to express her fears. Ulric von Hütten shuddered at the thought of the blow about to be struck at his country, and, on the 1st of April wrote directly to Charles V as follows:—“Most excellent emperor, you are on the point of destroying us, and yourself with us. What is intended in this affair of Luther but just to destroy our liberty and abridge your power? There is not throughout the whole breadth of the empire a good man who does not feel the liveliest interest in this business. The priests alone are in arms against Luther because he is opposed to their excessive power, their shameful luxury, their depraved lives, and has pleaded for the doctrine of Christ, his country’s freedom, and purity of manners.

“O emperor! dismiss from your presence those orators of Rome, those bishops and cardinals who would prevent every thing like reform. Did you not observe the sadness of the people on seeing you on your arrival approach the people surrounded by those wearers of red hats, by a herd of priests and not a band of valiant warriors?

“Do not give up your sovereign majesty to those who would trample it under their feet! Have pity on us! Do not in your ruin drag the whole nation along with you! Place us amid the greatest perils, under the swords of the enemy and the canon’s mouth; let all nations conspire against us; let all armies assail us, so that we may be able openly to manifest our valour, and not be thus vanquished and enslaved in the dark, like women, without arms and without a struggle.… Ah! our hope was that you would deliver us from the yoke of the Romans and overthrow the pontifical tyranny. God grant that the future may turn out better than the commencement.³

“All Germany kneels before you; she supplicates you with tears, implores your aid, your pity, your faith, and, by the holy memory of those Germans, who, when the whole world was subjugated to Rome, refused to bend their head before that proud city, conjures you to save her, restore her to herself, deliver her from slavery, and avenge her of her tyrants!…” So spoke Germany to Charles V through the instrumentality of the knight. The emperor paid no attention to the letter; perhaps threw it disdainfully from him to one of his secretaries. He was a Fleming, and not a German. Personal aggrandisement, not the liberty and glory of the empire, was the object of all his desires.