Q by Luther Blissett (poetry books to read txt) 📕

Good Father Melanchthon: ‘False prophets, my dear Karlstadt, they are the false prophets… And the world is full of them. Even here, in this place of study graced by the Lord… Because it is among the learned that pride takes root, the presumption of putting words into the mouth of the Lord in order to increase one’s own personal fame. But He has told us: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart”. We serve God and fight for the true faith against secular corruption. Don’t forget it, Karlstadt.’

That was below the belt, it was disloyal. A veil of weakness, the shadow of the conflict that is stalking him, falls upon the rector’s face. He looks confused and unconvinced, and clearly wounded. Melanchthon is on his feet: he has sown his doubt, now all that remains is to administer the coup de grace.

At that moment a voice rises up from the audience. A firm, clear voice that could not possibly belong to a student.

‘“Beware of men: for they will deliver you up to the councils, and they will scourge you in their synagogues. And ye shall be brought before governors and kings for my sake, for a testimony against them and the Gentiles.” Perhaps our Master Luther is afraid to appear before the authorities to be judged by the courts? Doesn’t his testimony alone make it clear to you? It is Luther’s cry that rises from the fields and the mines, against those who have wrought havoc with the true faith: “He who comes from above is above all. he who comes from the earth belongs to the earth and speaks of the earth.” Luther has shown us the way: when the authority of men is opposed to Christian testimony, it is the duty of the true Christian to confront it.’

We look at the face of the man who has just been speaking. His eyes are even harder and more resolute than his words. He never takes them off Melanchthon.

Melanchthon. He shuts his eyes, swallowing back his fury, taken aback. Someone has got ahead of him.

Two strokes of the bell. They are calling us to Luther’s lecture. We’ve got to go.

The silence and tension melt away amid the hubbub of the chattering students, impressed by the argument and by Amsdorf’s apt phrases.

They all stream towards the end of the courtyard. Melanchthon doesn’t move, his eyes are fixed on the man who has stolen a certain victory from him. The two men confront one another at a distance, until someone takes the professor by the arm to accompany him to the auditorium. Before he goes, his tone of voice is a promise: ‘We shall have occasion to talk again, I am sure of it.’

In the crowded corridor leading to the auditorium where everyone is waiting for Luther, I catch up with my friend Martin Borrhaus, whom everyone calls Cellarius, and who’s also excited about what’s just happened.

In a low voice: ‘Did you see Melanchthon’s face? Mister Sharp-as-a-Razor touched a nerve there. Do you know who he is?’

‘His name’s M�ntzer. Thomas M�ntzer. He’s from Stolberg.’

Carafa’s eye

(1521)

Letter sent to Rome from the city of Worms, seat of the Imperial Diet, addressed to Gianpietro Carafa, dated 14 May 1521.

To the most illustrious and reverend lord and most honourable patron Giovanni Pietro Carafa, in Rome.

Most illustrious and reverend lord and my most honourable patron,

I am writing to Your Lordship concerning a most grave and mysterious event: Martin Luther was abducted two days ago while returning to Wittenberg with the imperial pass.

When you commissioned me to follow the monk to the Imperial Diet of Worms, you made no mention of any plan of this nature; if there is something which escaped my attention and which I should know, I anxiously wait Your Lordship to make your servant aware of it. If, as I believe, my information was not inadequate, I might stress that Germany faces a dark and a very serious threat. For that reason I consider it essential to keep your Lordship informed of the movements of Luther and those around him throughout the days of the Diet, and the behaviour of his ruler, Frederic, Elector of Saxony.

On Tuesday 16th of April, at lunch-time, the city guard posted on the cathedral tower gave the habitual trumpet-blast to signal the arrival of an important guest. The news of the monk’s arrival had already spread throughout the morning and many people had gone to meet him. His modest carriage, preceded by the imperial herald, was followed by about a hundred people on horseback. A great crowd filled the street, preventing the cort�ge from advancing at any speed. Before entering the Johanniterhof inn with the crowd on either side, Luther looked around him with demonic eyes, shouting, ‘God will be on my side’. Not far away, in the Swan Inn, the Elector of Saxony had taken accommodation with his retinue. From the first few hours of his residence, he received a regular series of visits from the minor nobility, city-dwellers and magistrates, but none of the most important figures of the Diet was willing to risk being seen with the monk. Apart from the very young landgrave Philip of Hesse who put subtle questions to Luther concerning sexual customs in the Babilonica, receiving a severe rebuttal for his pains. The same Prince Frederick saw him only in the public sessions.

It was not, in any case, at the public sessions of 17th and 18th of April that the actual negotiations took place, as much as in private conversations and certain events that took place during Luther’s stay in Worms. As Your Lordship will already be aware, despite the intense aversion that the young Emperor Charles has as regards the monk and his theses, the Diet did not succeed in making him retract, or in taking the correct measures before events got out of control. This was because of the manoeuvres that had been skilfully orchestrated by some mysterious supporters of Luther, among whom I believe I can number the Elector of Saxony, even if it is not possible to assert as much with absolute certainty, because of the obscure and underground character of those manoeuvres.

— On the morning of 19th April Emperor Charles V summoned the electors and princes to ask them to take a resolute position on Luther, showing the proper regret at not having taken energetic action against the rebel monk until recently. The Emperor confirmed the imperial pass of twenty-one days on condition that the brother did not preach on his return journey to Wittenberg. On the afternoon of that same day, the princes and the electors gathered to debate his imperial request. The condemnation of Luther was approved by four votes out of six. The Elector of Saxony certainly voted against, and that was his first and only open demonstration in favour of Luther.

— On the night of the 20th, however, two manifestos were nailed up by unknown people in Worms: the first contained threats against Luther; the second declared that four hundred noblemen were sworn not to abandon the ‘just Luther’, and to declare their enmity towards the princes and the supporters of Rome, and first and foremost the archbishop of Mainz.

This event cast over the Diet the shadow of a religious war, and of a Lutheran party preparing for insurgency. The archbishop of Mainz, terrified, asked the Emperor to re-examine the whole question, and received an assurance from him that he would do this, lest he risk splitting Germany in two and exposing himself to rebellion. Whoever nailed up those manifestos thus achieved his aim of extending the cause by several days and spreading fear and circumspection about any condemnation of Luther.

— On the 23rd and 24th, therefore, Luther was examined by a commission specially appointed by the Emperor, and, as Your Lordship may already be aware, continued to reject the idea of a retraction. Despite this, his colleague from Wittenberg, Amsdorf, spread the word that an agreement was at hand between Luther, the Holy See and the Emperor. Why, my most illustrious Lord? I believe, on the Elector Frederick’s suggestion, to gain more time.

Consequently, between the 23rd and the 24th many different mediators came to heal the rift between Luther and the Holy See, represented here in Worms by the archbishop of Treviri.

On the 25th a private meeting was held, without witnesses, between Luther and the archbishop of Treviri. Predictably it brought all the diplomacy of the two previous days to nothing. Privately Luther, as he had already demonstrated during the sessions of the Diet in the presence of the Emperor, refused ‘for reasons of conscience’ to retract his theses. An unbridgeable and definitive rupture was thus imposed. Throughout that time, word of Luther’s imminent arrest spread through the streets.

On the evening of the same day, Two figures wrapped in cloaks were seen leaving Luther’s room. The innkeeper recognised them as Feilitzsch and Thun, advisers to the Elector Frederick. What had been plotted at that late-night meeting? Your Lordship may perhaps be able to find an answer in the events of the days that followed.

On the morning of the following day, the 26th, Luther left the city of Worms quietly, with a small escort of sympathetic noblemen. The next day he was in Frankfurt; on the 28th, in� Friedberg. Here he persuaded the imperial herald to allow him to carry on alone. On 3rd May, Luther left the main road and continued his journey on secondary roads, giving the reason for his change of itinerary as a desire to visit family, in the town of M�hra. He also persuaded his travelling companions to continue on in a different carriage. Witnesses say that when he continued his journey onwards from M�hra he was alone in his carriage, apart from Amsdorf and his colleague Petzensteiner. A few hours later the carriage was stopped by a number of men on horseback who asked the driver which one was Luther and, recognising him, took him away with them by force into the surrounding scrubland.

It will be clear to Your Lordship that one cannot avoid seeing Frederick, the Elector of Saxony, behind these machinations. But should you have scruples about leaping to too hasty a conclusion, I wonder if I might be granted permission to bring some questions to Your Lordship’s attention? In whose interest would it be to delay Luther’s condemnation, leaving the conflict unresolved? And who, seeking to delay the sentence, would have an interest in conjuring the threat of a party of knights prepared to defend the monk by raising their swords against the Emperor and the Pope? Finally, in whose interest would it be to bring Luther to safety by staging a kidnapping, without revealing himself openly, and without compromising himself in the eyes of the Emperor?

I might be so bold as to believe that Your Lordship reaches the same conclusion as his servant. The air of battle is blowing, my Lord, and Luther’s fame is growing by the day. The news of his abduction has unleashed unimaginable panic and agitation. Even those who do not agree with his theses still recognise him as an authoritative voice for reform in the church. A great religious war is about to be unleashed. The seeds that Luther has sown, wrested from the impetus of conviction, are about to bear fruit. Disciples keen to move to action are preparing, with intrepid logic, to take his ideas to their conclusion. If sincerity is a virtue, Your Lordship will perhaps allow me to assert that Luther’s protectors have already achieved their objective of transforming the monk into a battering-ram against the Holy See, organising a large popular following