The rumours that reached Luther were not very encouraging: it was reported in the city that, if he did not retract, he was to be seized and thrown into a dungeon. The vicar-general of his order, Staupitz himself, it was affirmed, had given his consent. Luther could not believe what was said of his friend. No, Staupitz would not deceive him! As for the Cardinal’s designs, to judge from his words, there could be no doubt about them. Yet he would not flee from the danger; his life, like the truth itself, was in powerful hands and, despite the threatening peril, he was resolved not to leave Augsburg.
The legate soon repented of his violence; he realised he had gone beyond his part and tried to retrace his steps. Stanpitz had scarcely finished his dinner (on the morning of the last interview, and the dinner-hour was noon) before he received a message from the Cardinal, inviting him to his palace. Staupitz went there with Wenceslas Link. Cajetan immediately approached Staupitz and addressed him in the mildest language: “Try to prevail on your monk and induce him to retract. Really, in other respects, I am well pleased with him, and he has no better friend than myself.”
Staupitz. “I have already done so, and I will again advise him to submit to the Church in all humility.”
Cajetan. “You will have to reply to the arguments he derives from the Holy Scriptures.”
Staupitz. “I must confess, my lord, that is a task beyond my abilities, for Doctor Martin Luther is superior to me both in genius and in knowledge of the Holy Scriptures.”
The Cardinal smiled, no doubt, at the frankness of Staupitz. Besides, he himself knew how difficult it would be to convince Luther. He continued, addressing both Staupitz and Link: “Are you aware that, as supporters of a heretical doctrine, you yourselves are liable to the penalties of the Church?”
Staupitz. Condescend to resume the conference with Luther and order a public discussion on the controverted points.
The legate, alarmed at the very thought, answered, “I will no longer dispute with that beast, for it has deep eyes and wonderful speculations in its head”. Staupitz at length prevailed on the Cardinal to transmit to Luther in writing what he was required to retract, and then returned to Luther. Staggered by the representations of the Cardinal, Staupitz tried to persuade him to come to an arrangement. “Refute then”, said Luther, “the declarations of Scripture that I have advanced.” “It is beyond my ability,” said Staupitz. “Well then,” replied Luther, “it is against my conscience to retract, so long as these passages of Scripture are not explained differently. The Cardinal professes, as you inform me, that he desires to arrange this affair without any disgrace or detriment to me! Ah, these are Roman expressions, which signify in good German that it will be my eternal shame and ruin. What else can he expect who, through fear of men and against the voice of his conscience, denies the truth?”
Staupitz did not persist; he only informed Luther that the Cardinal had consented to send him in writing the points which he would be required to retract. Luther no doubt informed him also of his intention to leave Augsburg, where he no longer had anything to do. Staupitz promised to return, and they separated for a short time.
Alone in his cell, Luther wrote to Spalatin, asking him to inform the Elector of Saxony about the state of affairs. He finished by saying, “I have neither hope nor confidence in the legate. I will not retract a syllable. I will publish the reply I gave him, in order that, if he should proceed to violence, he may be covered with shame in all Christendom.”
Luther wrote to his Wittenberg friends. He told Carlstadt: “Three days my business has been in hand, and matters are now at such a point that I have no longer any hope of returning to you and I have nothing to look for but excommunication. The legate positively will not allow me to dispute either publicly or privately. ‘He desires not to be a judge,’ says he, ‘but a father to me’; and yet he will hear no other words from me than these: ‘I retract and acknowledge my error’. And these I will not utter.
“The dangers of my cause are so much the greater as its judges are not only implacable enemies, but, still further, men incapable of understanding it. Yet the Lord God lives and reigns: to His protection I commit myself, and I doubt not that, in answer to the prayers of a few pious souls, He will send me deliverance; I imagine I feel them praying for me. Either I shall return to you without having suffered any harm; or else, struck with excommunication, I shall have to seek a refuge elsewhere. However that may be, conduct yourself valiantly, stand fast and glorify Christ boldly and joyfully. . . .
“The Cardinal always calls me his dear son. I know how much I must believe of that. I am nevertheless persuaded that I should be the most acceptable and dearest man to him in the world, if I would pronounce the single word, Revoco, I retract. But I will not become a heretic by renouncing the faith by which I became a Christian; I would rather be exiled, accursed and burned to death.
“Farewell . . . show this letter to our theologians, to Amsdorff, Philip, Otten and the rest, that you may pray for me and also for yourselves, for it is your cause that I am pleading here. It is that of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and in the grace of God.” The Reformation was the work of piety and prayer. The struggle between Luther and Cajetan was one between a religious element which reappeared full of life and the expiring relics of the wordy discussions of the Middle Ages.
The next day, Luther waited for the articles the legate was to send him. Not receiving any message, he begged his friend Wenceslas Link to go to the Cardinal. Cajetan received Link most affably and assured him that he had no desire but to act like a friend. He said, “I no longer regard Luther as a heretic. I will not excommunicate him this time, unless I receive further orders from Rome. I have sent his reply to the Pope by an express.” Then, to show his friendly intentions, he added, “If Dr Luther would only retract what concerns indulgences, the matter would soon be finished; for, as to what concerns faith in the sacraments, it is an article that each one may understand and interpret in his own fashion”. Spalatin, who records these words, adds this shrewd but just remark: “It follows clearly that Rome looks to money rather than to the holy faith and the salvation of souls”.
Link returned to Luther; he found Staupitz with him and gave them an account of his visit. When he came to the unexpected concession of the legate, Staupitz said, “It would have been well if Dr Wenceslas had had a notary and witnesses with him to take down these words in writing; for, if such a proposal were made known, it would be very prejudicial to the Romans”. However, in proportion to the mildness of the prelate’s language, the less confidence did these worthy Germans place in him. Staupitz and Wenceslas resolved to leave the city; they embraced Luther, who persisted in remaining at Augsburg, and departed hastily for Nuremberg, by two different roads, not without much anxiety about the fate of the courageous witness they were leaving behind them.
The next day passed off quietly enough. But Luther in vain waited for the legate’s message; he did not send one. At last he decided to write. Staupitz and Link, before setting out, had begged him to treat the Cardinal with all possible respect. Luther had not yet made trial of Rome and of her envoys; this was his first experience of them. If deference did not succeed, he would take a warning from it. Now at least he must make the attempt. For himself, not a day passed in which he did not condemn himself and groan over his facility in giving utterance to expressions stronger than the occasion required; why should he not confess to the Cardinal what he confessed daily to God? Besides, Luther’s heart was easily moved and he suspected no evil. He took up his pen and, with a sentiment of the most respectful good will, wrote to the Cardinal as follows:
“Most worthy Father in God, once more I approach you, not in person, but by letter, entreating your paternal goodness to listen to me graciously. The reverend Dr Staupitz, my very dear father in Christ, has called upon me to humble myself, to renounce my own sentiments, and to submit my opinions to the judgement of pious and impartial men. He has also praised your fatherly kindness, and has thoroughly convinced me of your favourable disposition towards me. This news has filled me with joy.
“Now therefore, most worthy Father, I confess, as I have already done before, that I have not shown (as has been reported) sufficient modesty, meekness, or respect for the name of the sovereign pontiff. And, although I have been greatly provoked, I see that it would have been better for me to have conducted my cause with greater humility, mildness and reverence, and not to have answered a fool according to his folly, lest I should be like unto him.
“This grieves me very much, and I ask forgiveness. I will publicly confess it to the people from the pulpit, as indeed I have often done before. I will endeavour, by God’s grace, to speak differently. Nay more, I am ready to promise, freely and of my own accord, not to utter another word on the subject of indulgences, if this business is arranged. But let those also, who made me begin, be compelled, on their part, to be more moderate henceforth in their sermons, or to be silent. As for the truth of my doctrine, the authority of St Thomas [Aquinas] and other doctors cannot satisfy me. I must hear (if I am worthy to do so) the voice of the bride, which is the Church. For it is certain that she hears the voice of the Bridegroom, which is Christ.
“In all humility and submission, I therefore entreat your paternal love to refer all this business, so unsettled up to this day, to our most holy lord Leo X, in order to that the Church may decide, pronounce and ordain, and that I may retract with a good conscience, or believe with sincerity.”
As we read this letter, we see that Luther was not acting on a preconceived plan, but solely by virtue of convictions impressed successively on his mind and on his heart. Far from having any settled system, any well-arranged opposition, he frequently and unsuspectingly contradicted himself. Old convictions still reigned in his mind, although opposite convictions had already entered it. And yet, it is in these marks of sincerity and truth that men have sought for arguments against the Reformation.
Luther received no answer to his letter. Cajetan and his courtiers, after being so violently agitated, had suddenly become motionless. What could be the reason? Some, imagining they understood the ways of Rome, felt sure that the legate intended to arrest Luther, but that, not daring to proceed to such extremities on his own account because of the Emperor’s safe-conduct, he was waiting for a reply from Rome to his message. Others could not believe that the Cardinal would delay so long. The Emperor Maximilian, said they (and this may really be the truth), will have no more scruple to deliver Luther over to the judgement of the Church, notwithstanding the safe-conduct, than a previous emperor had to surrender John Hus to the Council of Constance. The legate was perhaps even now negotiating with the Emperor. Maximilian’s authorisation might arrive every minute. There was not a moment to be lost. “Draw up an appeal to the Pope,” said the noble-minded men who surrounded Luther, “and leave Augsburg without delay.”
Luther’s presence in this city had been useless for the last four days, and he had sufficiently proved – by remaining there after the departure of the Saxon counsellors the Elector had sent to watch over his safety – that he was ready to answer any charge. He yielded at length to his friends’ solicitations, but first resolved to inform Cajetan of his intention; he wrote to him on Tuesday, the eve of his departure. This second letter is in a firmer tone than the first. It would appear that Luther, seeing all his advances were unavailing, began to lift up his head in the consciousness of his integrity and of the injustice of his enemies.
“Most worthy Father in God,” he wrote to Cajetan, “your paternal kindness has witnessed . . . and sufficiently acknowledged my obedience. I have undertaken a long journey, through great dangers, in great weakness of body. And despite my extreme poverty, I have appeared in person before your eminence at the command of our most holy lord, Leo X. Lastly, I have thrown myself at the feet of his holiness, and I now wait his good pleasure, ready to submit to his judgement, whether he should condemn or acquit me. I therefore feel that I have omitted nothing which it becomes an obedient child of the Church to do.
“I think, consequently, that I ought not uselessly to prolong my sojourn in this town. Besides, it would be impossible; my resources are failing me, and your paternal goodness has loudly forbidden me to appear before you again, unless I will retract. I therefore depart in the name of the Lord, desiring, if possible, to find some spot where I may dwell in peace. Many, of greater importance than myself, have requested me to appeal from your paternal kindness – and even from our most holy lord, Leo X, badly informed, to the [same] Pope when better informed. Although I know that such an appeal will be far more acceptable to our most serene highness the Elector than a retraction, nevertheless, if I had consulted my own feelings only, I should not have done so. . . . I have committed no fault; I ought therefore to fear nothing.”
After Luther had written this letter, which was not given to the legate until after his departure, he prepared to leave Augsburg. God had preserved him till this hour, and he praised the Lord for it with all his heart; but he must not tempt God. On the Wednesday, before daybreak, he was up and ready to set out. His friends had recommended him to take every precaution for fear that he should be prevented, if his intentions were known. He followed their advice as far as possible. He mounted a pony and set off, without a bridle or boots or spurs, and unarmed. The magistrate of the city had sent him a guide who was well acquainted with the roads. He conducted Luther in the dark through the silent streets of Augsburg and out through a small gate in the wall of the city. He was still in the power of the legate. The hand of Rome might grasp him yet. No doubt, if the Italians knew their prey was escaping, they would have uttered a cry of rage. Who could say that the intrepid adversary of Rome would not yet be seized and thrown into a dungeon?
At length Luther and his guide arrived at the little gate; they passed through and soon put their horses to a gallop and rode speedily away. On his departure, Luther’s friends had recommended that his appeal should not be sent to the legate. Instead it was posted on the cathedral gates two or three days after his departure, in the presence of a lawyer and witnesses.
When the Cardinal was informed of Luther’s departure, he was thunderstruck, even frightened and alarmed, as he assured the Elector in his letter. This departure, which so abruptly terminated the negotiations, disconcerted the hopes with which he had so long flattered his pride. He had been ambitious of the honour of healing the wounds of the Church, of restoring the tottering influence of the Pope in Germany; and the heretic had escaped not only unpunished, but even without being humbled. The conference had served only to exhibit in a stronger light, on the one hand, Luther’s simplicity, integrity and firmness; and on the other, the imperious and unreasonable proceedings of the Pope and his ambassador.
Since Rome had gained nothing, she had lost; her authority had not been strengthened, but had received a fresh check. What would they say in the Vatican? The difficulties of the legate’s position would be forgotten; the outcome of this affair would be attributed to his lack of skill. The Italians were furious at seeing themselves, with all their dexterity, outwitted by a German monk. Cajetan could hardly conceal his irritation. Such an insult called for vengeance, and we shall soon witness him breathing out his wrath in a letter to the Elector.
1This is a further abridged extract from d’Aubigné’s The History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century, vol 1, continued from last month. That article told of Luther in Augsburg in 1518, where he had come to be examined by Cardinal Cajetan – a legate, or representative, of the Pope. In his appearances before Cajetan, Luther refused to retract his scriptural opinions and in the end walked out. It should be noted, however, that he had not yet broken with Rome.