PAGE 14
Martin Luther
by
The semblance of trial, which alone was allowed to Luther, was now over; it only remained to pass sentence. Early on the morning of the Nineteenth of April the Emperor summoned the Diet once more to take counsel upon the matter. The Estates asked for time to deliberate; on which the Emperor, replying that he would first give them his own opinion, produced a document written in his own hand. Beginning with the statement of his descent from Emperors, Kings of Spain, Archdukes of Austria, and Dukes of Burgundy, all of whom had lived and died faithful sons of the Church and defenders of the Catholic faith, it announced the identity of his policy with theirs. Whatever his predecessors had decreed in matters ecclesiastical, whatever had been decided by the Council of Konstanz and other Councils, he would uphold. Luther had set himself against the whole of Christendom, alleging it to be, both now and for a thousand years past, in error, and only himself in possession of the truth. The Estates had heard the obstinate answer which he had made the day before; let him be no further heard, and let him be taken back whence he came, the terms of his safe-conduct being carefully observed; but let him be forbidden to preach, nor suffer to corrupt the people with his vile doctrine. “And as we have before said, it is our will that he should be proceeded against as a true and evident heretic.”
* * * * *
The difference between heresy and treason, at one time, was very slight. One was disloyalty to the Church, the other disloyalty to the State.
Luther’s peril was very great. The coils had been deliberately laid for him, and he had as deliberately placed his neck in the noose. Surely his accusers had been very patient–every opportunity had been given to him to recant.
Aleandro, the Papal Nuncio, argued that, in the face of such stubborn contumacy and insult to both Pope and Emperor, the Emperor would be justified in canceling his safe-conduct and arresting Luther then and there. His offense in refusing to retract was committed at Worms and his trial should be there–and there he should be executed.
The Elector Frederick was a stronger man far in personality than was the Emperor Charles. “The promise of safe-conduct must be kept,” said Frederick, and there he rested, refusing to argue the merits of the case by a word, one way or the other.
Frederick held the life of Luther in his hand–a waver, a tremor–and the fagots would soon crackle: for the man who pleads guilty and refuses pardon there is short shrift.
Luther started back for Saxony. All went well until he reached the Black Forest within the bounds of the domain of Frederick; when behold, the carriages and little group of horsemen were surrounded by an armed force of silent and determined men. Luther made a stout defense and was handled not over-gently. He was taken from his closed carriage and placed upon a horse–his friends and guard were ordered to be gone.
The darkness of the forest swallowed Luther and his captors.
News soon reached Wittenberg, and the students mourned him as dead.
His enemies gloried in his disappearance, and everywhere told that he had been struck by the vengeance of God.
Luther was lodged in the Castle of Wartburg, and all communication with the outside world cut off.
The whole scheme was a diplomatic move on the part of the Elector. He expected a demand would be made for the arrest of the heretic. To anticipate this demand he arrested the man himself; and thus placed the matter in position to legally resist should the prisoner be demanded.
The Elector was the Governor, and the Estate was what would be to us a State–the terms “state” and “estate” being practically the same word. It was the old question of State Rights, the same question that Hayne and Webster debated in Eighteen Hundred Thirty, and Grover Cleveland and John P. Altgeld fought over in Eighteen Hundred Ninety-four. The Elector Frederick prepared for a legal battle, and would defy the “Federal Arm” by force if worse came to worst.