Q by Luther Blissett (poetry books to read txt) đź“•
The final blow: 'Omnia sunt communia, sons of whores!'
His head flies into the dust.
* * *
The houses are being ransacked. Doors smashed in with kicks and axe-blows. We'll be next. No time to lose. I lean over him.
'Magister, listen to me, we've got to go, they're coming... For the love of God, Magister...' I grasp his shoulders. He whispers a reply. He can't move. Trapped, we're trapped.
Like Elias.
My hand clutches my sword. Like Elias. I wish I had his courage.
'What do you think you're doing? We've had enough of martyrdom. Go on, get out while you can!'Â Â
The voice. As though from the bowels of the earth. I can't believe he's spoken. He's moving even less than be
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The city appeared on the point of exploding, so much was blood seething in the veins on both sides.
And this explains why it was that Landgrave Philip hurried to send his peacemakers. The two Lutherans, a certain Theodor Fabricius and Johannes Lening, were both learned and diplomatic, and they set about trying to distract everyone’s attention from the question of baptism.�
But from the account the man who reported the facts to me, they only managed to obtain an armed truce, in which a single spark would have been enough to set the whole city alight. My merchant had no doubt. If it came to a test of strength, Rothmann and the Anabaptists would gain the advantage in a flash.
To this we might add two events that are no less significant. The head of the guilds, one Knipperdolling, openly supports the preacher with his head held high, bringing the city’s artisans with him. Not least, it appears that the spread of Rothmann’s fame is bringing into M�nster many Dutch exiles, Sacramentists and Anabaptists, shortening the fuse to the powder-keg with each passing hour.
And now I wish to tell your lordship of my fears concerning the gravity of the situation. Everywhere the Anabaptists have proved their tenacity and their perfidious seductive power, just as Satan does to mortals. They are spreading their plagues all around the Low Countries, and within the border of the Empire. If there are few of them now, quite scattered among the regions of the North, they have still demonstrated the fascination that their doctrines exert, specially among the ignorant mob, seditious by its very nature.
So, what would happen if they joined forces? What would happen if they started to enjoy ever greater success as they crept through the alleys, through the workshops, far from the control of doctrinal authority? What if no one, not a bishop, not a prince like Philip nor Luther, appeared capable of halting their subterranean advance; when in fact they fear them like the plague, trying to keep them far from their own borders, unaware that they are advancing invisibly, and could easily cross them?
We have all the answers we need before our eyes. The first actual case is actually in existence, and it is that of M�nster, where a single man has a whole city in check.
Landgrave Philip and Martin Luther, having scented the grave danger represented by these Anabaptists, do not in fact know how to stop them, and they really think that they can contain their perverse violence and keep them in isolation. I fear, my lord, that it is an illusion, and that they will become aware of their error only when they find the Anabaptists at the doors of their own houses.
Well, what I think is, as your lordship has wished so magnanimously to teach me, that the threats should be thwarted in time and destroyed before they can come into effect. For that reason I have never neglected to inform Yr. L. of everything that could be useful, however minimally, in assessing the risks that lurk in this part of the world.
In the case in question the facts are already becoming apparent, but it may not be too late: this sickness must be stopped, stopped at birth, before it can spread throughout the whole of Europe and contaminate the Empire, something that is already happening, not even stopping at the Alps, and descending into Italy and who knows where. Before that can happen, action must be taken.
So I look forward to hearing your instructions, if you still wish to gratify a servant of God by allowing him to pursue Your cause at this difficult time.
I kiss Your Lordship’s hands as I wait for Your reply.
Strasbourg, the 15th day of November, 1533
Your Lordship’s faithful servant
Q.
Letter sent to Rome from the city of Strasbourg, addressed to Gianpietro Carafa, dated 10th January 1534.
To my most honourable and reverend lord Giovanni Pietro Carafa.
My most illustrious lord, today I received your lordship’s missive, which I awaited more expectantly than ever. Indeed it would be senseless to conceal the fact that time is of the essence where this grave matter is concerned, and Your Lordship’s authorisation is a matter of great concern and urgency to me, since what needs to be attempted will require all the providential protection of the Supreme one if it is to turn out to the good.
So allow me now to reveal to your lordship what I think it must be undertaken against the Anabaptist pestilence.
First of all, my lord, the situation as it stands: Anabaptism spreads underground, it does not have a single head that can be severed from the neck and there’s an end to it; it has no enemy to defeat in battle; it does not have true and genuine borders, it springs up now here, now there, as the black plague does when, jumping from one region to the other, it harvests its victims without regard for state or language, exploiting the vehicle of the bodily humours, breath, a scrap of a piece of clothing; where the Anabaptists are concerned we know that they prefer the mechanical classes, but we can say that they may be found anywhere, and so no borders can be safe; no militia, no army, in fact, can obstruct the advance of this invisible army.
So how will we manage to halt the danger that threatens the whole of Christendom?
How many times, my most munificent Lord, have I asked myself that question over the past few weeks… How much have I racked my brains, almost reaching the conviction that in this matter Your Lordship’s servant could never help his lord.
May God will that I am mistaken, and that you will receive what I am about to suggest in a favourable manner.
So, I hope the solution will be suggested to us by the same plague-spreaders; the Anabaptists themselves are showing us the way to strike them efficiently.
If, indeed, my Lord casts his mind back to the events that he was obliged to resolve ten years ago, at the time of the Peasant War, availing himself at that time of this modest servant, he will recall that in order to fool the fanatic Thomas M�ntzer it was useful to become familiar with him, to pretend to be on his side, so that he might, first,� more easily obstruct Luther, in accordance with his nature, and, then, plunge into hell, once he risked turning the world upside down, let alone inadvertently helping the Emperor against the German princes.
While one is sure that the memory of those moments is still vivid in your lordship’s mind, allow this servant to remind you that Thomas M�ntzer was indeed a perfidious man, guided by Satan, but also intelligent and cunning, with a power over the mob and great oratorical skill.
And what are our Anabaptists if not so many M�ntzers, except on a smaller scale?
Among them, too, there seem to be stronger personalities, spiritual guides, such as this Bernhard Rothmann, but also others, whose names might mean nothing to your lordship, but who are roaming the length and breadth of these lands: the names of Melchior Hofmann and Jan Matthys prime among them.
So my advice is that it is a matter of urgency for us to thwart their apparent ubiquity. We must succeed, that is, in bringing together all their leaders, all the M�ntzers, the coiners, the plague-spreaders, in a single place, all the rotten apples in a single basket.
But in this respect, let us also remark that we have also been placed at an advantage, since, as Your Lordship has learned from my previous missive, it is not only the attention of the Anabaptists that is flowing towards the city of M�nster , but also a great crowd of people, whole families, who, bearing weapons and household objects, are heading in that direction from Holland and the Empire. M�nster has become the Promised Land of the most impenitent heretics.
So I believe that it would be easy for someone to join in that flow and enter the city. He would then have to win the trust of the leaders of the sect and pretend to be friends with them in order to influence their actions without attracting too much attention, encouraging the influx of as many Anabaptists as possible.
Once the bad apples are gathered together, the prospect of being able to sweep away the most dangerous elements at a single stroke will be enough in itself to forge an alliance between Landgrave Philip and Bishop von Waldeck, Protestants and Catholics, against the most dangerous rabble-rousers.
So, since the implementation of such a plan will require involvement of a� single person, the one who will be there on the spot, I consider it natural that the one who proposes the action should also, in this case, be the one who carries it out. That is why I am leaving for M�nster, with the intention of borrowing a considerable figure from the Cologne branch of the Fuggers, and bringing it as a dowry to the ignorant Anabaptist husbands.
Since I will be acting undercover, it is important that I should be able to count on Yr L’s recommendation to Bishop von Waldeck, and that he be informed of my presence in M�nster and of the fact that I will contact him beforehand in order to plan what is to be done.
Once I have reached my destination, I shall hasten to give the most detailed information about what is happening there. For the moment all that remains to me is to consign myself to the will of God and His protection, in the certainty that Your Lordship will mention this humble servant in Your prayers.
I kiss Your Lordship’s hands,
Strasbourg, the 10th day of January, 1534
Your Lordship’s faithful servant
Q.
The Word made flesh
(1534)
On the outskirts of M�nster, Westphalia, 13th January 1534
I jump to my feet at sound of the distant rumble, the cannon in my ears, my eyes narrowed to slits, more men fleeing on the plain.
No. It’s just the thunder that’s been following us along the road for days. Different time, different vision. The straw, stinking and warm: the animal warmth of cows and men that brings me back here. And a sudden, cold gust that drags me from sleep, not far from the breath of the ox. A huge round eye is studying me: the daily rumination has already begun.
At the window, a very strange, ferrous light beneath a low sky, filled with clouds and frost that awaits the courageous people on the road towards the city.
There goes the second, another shiver in my memory: the uneasy animals know more than we do about what awaits us out there. I try to banish the images of the past.
The third thunderclap is a flicker that splits the horizon. It is coming quietly closer, as the sparrows cry out with hunger and the frustration of not being able to fly. It will crush us, an even blackness spread across the whole of the sky.
And who can say whether the end won’t come like this: the undertow or the flood, rather than the earthquake of the cannons. I don’t think I’d do it a second time.
And yet it isn’t something to ask yourself at dawn, on a stomach that’s been empty for two days and with all those miles behind you.
That’s the fourth, much closer. It’s almost on top of us. A crash that shakes the earth, and the sudden roar of rain bouncing off the leaves and hammering down from the roof.
I
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