IN Prussia, at a place called Wilsnack, in the province of Brandenburg, there stood a part of a stone altar. About the year 1403 in this altar were found three of the wafers used in the Lord's Supper by the Roman Catholics. Years previously a church had stood on that spot: but the church had been destroyed by a knight, who had suffered a part of the altar to remain.
Well, when these wafers were discovered they were found to be of a red color. Now as the Roman Catholics say that when the bread, or rather wafers, and the wine are consecrated, they are changed into the very body and blood of our Lord, and that the body and blood are both present in the bread, when these wafers were found and seen to be red, those who found them thought that this was the blood of Christ becoming visible. They thought they saw the wafers stained with the actual blood that flowed in the veins of our Lord when down here upon the earth. They at once raised the report that such was the case. It was said to be a miracle—a real miracle—which any one could come and behold with his own eyes. Numbers flocked to the place. It at once became a "holy spot," and reports were soon circulated that marvelous cures were being effected at the broken altar. The fame of it soon spread abroad, and pilgrimages were made to it from Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Hungary, Poland and all parts of Bohemia.
The clergy of the district encouraged this all they could. It brought to them a rich harvest through the pilgrims, and raised them into honor that such a miracle should have been wrought in their midst. A citizen of Prague with a lame hand procured a hand made of silver and hung it up as a votive offering in honor of those bloody wafers, as they were called. But he remained in the place a few days, most probably unknown to the priests, and indeed to test their honesty; but one day he was surprised to hear that one of them had publicly declared that the silver hand was hung there as a memorial that the lame hand of the citizen had been cured by a miracle. The poor man could not allow this, he held forth his lame hand as bad as ever, to the great dishonor and shame of the priest, but to the enlightenment of himself and others.
Still numbers flocked to the bloody wafers; and believed all that the priests told them. At that time Zbynek of Hasenburg was Archbishop of Prague. He was at least an honest man, and desired the abuses of the church should be removed. He had his doubts about these "bloody wafers," and the professed miracles, so he appointed three to investigate the whole matter. John Huss was one of these three. After due examination they reported that the miracles were not real, and the wafers were not bloody. Bread and other substances, exposed to the air and moisture, often have from vegetable or animal products a red appearance. The Archbishop prohibited any more pilgrimages from his diocese.
This was the first thing that brought Huss into prominence as an enemy of abuses. He was born about 1370 at Hussinetz, a village in Bohemia in the circle of Prachin, towards the border of Bavaria. He studied at the University of Prague, was made Master of Arts in 1396, and began to lecture in 1398.
John Huss was not satisfied with the prevailing state of religion. Besides being an enemy of abuses and imposture, his soul thirsted for something better than was afforded by the Roman Catholic religion. He saw not only that he needed this better thing for himself, but that the people too were perishing for lack of knowledge.
In Prague, apart from the Roman Catholic churches, a house had been converted into a chapel, named Bethlehem, or House of Bread. It had been set on foot by two good men, in order, as they said, that the word of God might be preached to the people in the Bohemian language. "Christ had given commission to His disciples," said they, "when He appeared to them after His resurrection, to preach the word, so as to preserve constantly in the world the living memory of Himself.”
In 1401 Huss was chosen as preacher in Bethlehem, where every Sunday, and on festivals, he preached in the Bohemian language. This was his delight. As he learned the truth himself he taught it, and, as one has said, he became a curer of souls, principally among the humbler classes, who came to him with their burdened consciences, and who found that the absolution of the priest did not suffice. Huss diligently devoted himself to the study of the word of God as the fountain of all light.
A Bohemian princess, Anne, sister to King Wenceslaus, had married Richard II King of England. This united the two countries, and English students went to Prague, and Bohemian students came to Oxford. Wiclif's writings thus became well known in Prague. Huss knew them well. "I am attracted by his writings," said he, "in which he expends every effort to conduct all men back to the law of Christ, and especially the clergy, inviting them to let go the pomp and the dominion of the world, and live with the apostles according to the life of Christ.”
Huss had a friend and companion in Jerome, known as Jerome of Prague. He was one of the few knights of Bohemia who cared for learning. He was very different in temperament from Huss. Never quiet long together, being full of life and ardor, he was, as people say, here, there, and everywhere—sometimes at Oxford, at other times at Paris, then at Jerusalem, with visits to Hungary, Vienna, and Russia. In 1398 he returned from Oxford, bringing with him copies of several of Wiclif’s writings, hitherto unknown at Prague, which stimulated the study of his works. It divided the University of Prague into two camps; some were for the principles of Wiclif, and some opposed them.
This at length attracted the attention of the heads of the University, and in May, 1403, a meeting was called to consider "forty-five propositions ascribed to Wiclif." The votes were taken by nations— Bohemian, Bavarian, Saxon, and Polish, each one vote; but, inasmuch as Bavaria and Saxony were German, and half of Poland, the Germans could always outvote the Bohemians, which gave rise to national jealousy. It was heightened in this case by the propositions of Wiclif being condemned by the German party, while many in Bohemia were in favor of them. Huss, at present, could not give his entire consent to all of Wiclif's propositions, some of them being on abstruse philosophic subjects, so that he was not involved in the vote.
The Archbishop and Huss had hitherto been good friends. Their friendship was soon to be broken. Some of the clergy had been accused of favoring the principles of Wiclif, and the Archbishop had summoned them to answer the charge. One of them, Nicholas of Welenowitz, was thrown into prison, and though afterward released he was banished from the diocese. Huss took up his cause and boldly wrote to the Archbishop, blaming him for his conduct. "What is this?" said he, "that men stained with innocent blood, men guilty of every crime, shall be found walking abroad almost with impunity; while humble priests who spend all their efforts to destroy sin, who fulfill their duties under your church guidance, in a good temper never follow avarice, but give themselves for nothing to God's service and the proclamation of His word, are cast into dungeons as heretics, and must suffer banishment for preaching the gospel." Such bold language could not fail to make Archbishop Zbynek an enemy of Huss.
Huss was confessor to Queen Sophia, and had thus great influence at court, which brought him many friends. So the Archbishop having done something to eradicate the doctrines of Wiclif let the matter rest. King Wenceslaus hastened on events, though unintentionally. He issued an edict altering the constitution of the University, giving the Bohemians three votes, and only one to the foreigners. This offended the Germans who bound themselves by a solemn oath to leave the University unless the king abandoned his plan. This he refused to do, and many of the professors and students left Prague. Some have put down the number who left as 44,000; the lowest named is 5,000. Only about 2,000 remained. This separation was the means of the founding of the University of Leipsic.
Huss was made Rector of the University of Prague, but in a great measure he felt his hands tied, for he was associated with others who evinced no interest in the truth. He must either do nothing, or clash with them; while, on the other hand, those who had left the University spread abroad everywhere that Huss had imbibed heresy. He was also charged with driving away the students. This was not true, though he had with many others favored the change.
To make matters worse, the king was brought into collision with the Archbishop and his clergy, they holding with pope Gregory XII, and he with the Council of Pisa, which was called to settle matters in the church, there being another pope (Benedict XIII) both contending for the mastery. Huss declared in favor of the council, which made him to be still more disliked by the Archbishop.
The faithfulness of Huss brought him also enemies among the higher clergy. While he confined himself to pointing out the failings of the monks they did not interfere, but as soon as he began to attack the abuses among the higher clergy all were in arms against him. They laid a complaint before the king; but the king took the part of Huss. He told them that Huss had not spared the princes and lords, the clergy did not complain then: now it was their turn, and they must make the best of it.
The council of Pisa (1409) set aside both the popes, and elected another—Alexander V. The Archbishop of Prague saw it best to acknowledge the new pope, who in return issued a Bull against any in Bohemia holding the doctrines of Wiclif. The Bull bore evidence on it that it was the work of the Archbishop, and that it was really aimed at Huss, which gave great offense to those about the king, who were friends of the Reformer. Huss tried to evade the Bull without coming into open collision with the Church of Rome. He appealed from the pope ill informed to the pope better informed. But the Archbishop seemed determined that things should be brought to an issue, so he sent forth an order prohibiting preaching in private chapels. This at once involved Huss and his preaching at Bethlehem Chapel. Huss thought he was protected by the foundation charter of the chapel; at any rate he deemed it right to obey God rather than man, and not to discontinue his preaching.
The Archbishop also ordered all Wiclif's books to be delivered to him within six days for examination. But without examining them he declared his intention to burn them all. A convocation was held at the University which petitioned the king to prevent the burning of the books uncondemned. The king sent to the archbishop asking him if he really meant to burn the books. He replied he would do nothing without consent of the king. He only delayed his purpose—he did not abandon it. So on July 16, 1410, under the plea that the king had not forbidden the burning, he caused his palace to be surrounded with a watch, and then burnt about two hundred volumes of the writings of Wiclif and other Reformers. This caused great indignation, and some turned it into ridicule. Songs were made up and sung about the Archbishop, signifying
The great Archbishop he must learn
His A, B, C,
That what was in the books he burnt
He yet may see.
There is no proof that Russ had any hand in these satirical songs; but the excitement became so strong that the king had to forbid their being sung on pain of death. Huss said, "I call the burning of the books a poor business. Such burning never yet removed a single sin from the hearts of men (if he who condemned them could not prove anything), but has only destroyed many truths, many beautiful and fine thoughts, and multiplied among the people disturbances, enmities, suspicions and murders." Huss adds "murders," for, sad to relate, blood had been shed amid these contentions.
Just at this time (1409-1410) Pope Alexander died, and John XXIII was chosen as his successor, so that there were still three claiming to be pope. Huss, with others, vainly appealed to the new pope against the Archbishop. The Reformer did not yet see how useless it was to appeal to such a corrupt standard as the pope. This pope —John XXIII—proved to be one of the worst of them, and was eventually set aside by another council of the church. But Huss's aim was to reform the Roman Catholic Church, to which he was attached.
Huss could not bow to the order to stop the preaching in Bethlehem Chapel. "Where is there any authority in holy writ," said he, "or where are there any rational grounds forbidding preaching in so public a place, fitted up for that very purpose, in the midst of the great city of Prague? Nothing else can be at the bottom of this but the jealousy of Antichrist." Huss saw and asserted that the divine call to preach the gospel was of more authority than any outward call from man. "Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is liberty." He went on with his preaching, leaving results with God.
Huss, amid the confusion and strife in the church, had to weigh up everything as in the presence of God, and to come to some resolve, in God's strength, as to his future course: should he obey God as far as he understood His will and stem the torrent, or should he swim along with the stream, avoiding the evil as much as he could as he swam?
Let us hear at what conclusion Huss arrived: "In order that I may not make myself guilty, then, by my silence, forsaking the truth for a piece of bread, or through fear of man, I avow it to be my purpose to defend the truth which God has enabled me to know, and especially the truth of the holy scriptures, even to death; since I know that the truth stands, and is forever mighty and abides eternally; and with her there is no respect of persons." Noble resolve! Amid such darkness as then overshadowed the church, resolving to abide by the light which must bring him into collision with the darkness and the powers thereof, was true courage.
We have seen that Huss appealed to the pope: Archbishop Zbynek had also hastened to do the same. The pope listened to the Archbishop and appointed Cardinal Otto of Colonna to investigate the case of Huss. The Cardinal confirmed the sentence of the Archbishop; but lest this sentence should not be carried out, he further summoned Huss to appear at Bologna where the pope then was.
Huss hesitated to obey the summons. He declared it would be unsafe for him to travel in Germany, and at the papal court he could expect nothing but condemnation. Queen Sophia took up the cause of her confessor, and the king wrote to the pope and the College of Cardinals in favor of Huss. He begged the pope to put a stop to the whole process, to impose silence on the enemies of Huss, to suppress the dispute concerning the books of Wiclif; since it was evident that no one in his dominions had fallen into error or heresy by those writings. "It is our will too," said he, "that Bethlehem Chapel which, for the glory of God and the saving good of the people, we have endowed with franchises for the preaching of the gospel, should stand, and should be confirmed in its privileges.... and that Huss (whom he styles the loyal, devout, and beloved) may be established over this chapel and preach the word of God in peace.”
The king also requested that Huss might be excused from coming to Bologna; but that the pope would send some one to investigate the matter in Bohemia. The king's letter was sent by a personal friend of the pope, and Huss also sent three others from the college.
In the meantime Colonna had pronounced excommunication against Huss for not obeying the summons; but the pope was moved by the letter of the king, and took the matter out of the hands of Colonna and appointed a new commissioner. Archbishop Zbynek however was not asleep. He used all his influence to induce the pope to make Huss appear before the papal court. He even sent "horses, vases, and costly rings" to the pope, and other gifts of a costly kind to the cardinals. For some reason the pope took it out of the hands of the commissioner and placed it in the hands of Cardinal Brancas, who let it quietly rest for a year and a half.
At length, however, he arose like a lion, declared Huss, unheard, to be an heresiarch—a chief of heretics—and placed the town of Prague, where Huss resided, under interdict. Zbynek was overjoyed, and at once issued orders according to the authority he now received. The clergy of Prague proceeded to close their churches.
The king, however, would not allow this. He took up the cause of Huss, and confiscated the property of the clergy who attempted to enforce the interdict. The people too were incensed against the clergy, and some of them had to flee from the place.
This enabled Huss quietly to go on with his work, leaving the king to contest the matter with the Cardinal and the Archbishop. Now all this is very remarkable; because the king cared nothing about the truth, and was really a very bad man, so bad that he was twice imprisoned by his own subjects because of the evil that he caused. And yet here he was contending against the power of Rome and protecting the servants of God! Doubtless God was over-ruling all to protect His own work.
The Archbishop, however, found the king had too much power on his side, especially as there was really only weakness on the side of Rome to back him up on account of the pope himself (John XXIII) being generally execrated, and too busy with his own troubles to care for Bohemia.
In July, 1411, a committee was appointed, and the king and the Archbishop agreed to abide by its decision. It resulted in the Archbishop removing the ban and interdict, and writing to the pope that no heresies existed in Bohemia; the king on the other hand released such of the clergy as were under arrest, and restored their salaries. Though peace was in some measure restored, the Archbishop was ill-at-ease, and in September, 1411, he left Bohemia and died soon after.
John XXIII, having sent a legate into Bohemia to enlist help against his enemies, the legate caused the new Archbishop Albic to summon Huss before him. He at once asked Huss if he intended to obey the apostolic commands. Certainly, said Huss; he would do so with all his heart. Turning to the Archbishop the Legate said, "Do you see? the master is quite ready to obey the apostolic mandates." But Huss saw that he was not understood. "My lord," said he, "understand me well. I said I am ready with all my heart to fulfill the apostolic mandates; but I call the apostolic mandates the doctrines of the apostles of Christ; and as far as the papal mandates agree with these, so far I will obey them most willingly. But if I see anything in them at variance with these, I shall not obey, even though the stake were staring me in the face." At present Huss escaped: the Legate had other work in hand.
Indulgences for Bohemia.
The Legate was engrossed with raising money for his master. He was armed with a papal Bull in which indulgences—that is, papers professing to forgive the sins of those who held them—were granted to those who helped the pope by enlisting against his enemies; he also granted indulgences for those he would help in money in proportion to their means. Huss opposed these indulgences and it was this that severed him from some of his friends in the University, especially Stephen Paletz, dean of the theological faculty, who now and hereafter became Huss's determined enemy. Huss said to him: "Paletz is my friend; Truth is my friend; and both being my friends, it is my sacred duty to give the first honor to Truth.”
As to the indulgences Huss declared that by them "The foolish man of wealth is betrayed into a false hope; the law of God is set at naught; the rude people give themselves up more freely to sin; grievous sins are thought lightly of; and, in general, the people are robbed of their property. Far be it, therefore, from the faithful to have anything to do with indulgences.”
Jerome also took up the subject of the papal Bulls, and delivered a glowing discourse against them, which so stirred up the hearts of the students that in the evening they rallied round Jerome, and escorted him home in triumph. The students did not stop here; but they got up a mock procession; the papal Bulls were hung round some of the necks of women who were placed in a chariot, and the procession went through the principal parts of the city. They then collected a pile of fagots and publicly burnt the Bulls. It was intended to be a parody on the burning of Wiclif’s books by the Archbishop.
It is certain that Huss had no hand in such an unseemly act, and Jerome long after declared that he did not burn the Bulls. It was proved to have been done by one of the king's favorites.
The king was vexed at the transaction, and gave strict orders that the priests should not be molested in publishing the Bulls. Thus encouraged they went on with their work industriously; but one day as they were exhorting the people to buy the indulgences, three young men, artisans, called out to one of the preachers, Thou liest! Master Huss has taught us better than that. We know it is all false." The priests managed to seize these young men and carry them before the senate, who met on the next day, and, in accordance with the edict of the king, condemned them to death. Huss hastened to the senate, and demanded a hearing. Two thousand students accompanied him, and the senate could not refuse. Huss declared that he looked upon the fault of these young men as his own; and he deserved death more than they. The senate promised him that no blood should be shed. Believing they would keep their promise, he left the senate chamber, and the excitement calmed down.
The senate however did not mean to keep its word. A few hours later a body of soldiers were brought, and the three prisoners were hurried away to the place of execution. It soon became known, and many began to run after the procession. Every moment the excitement and the numbers increased and, fearing a tumult, the authorities halted before they came to the accustomed place, and smote off the heads of the three young men. When the executioner had done his work he called out, "Let him who does the like expect to suffer the same fate," when many called out, "We are all ready to do the like and suffer the same." Several, and especially the Beguines, stepped forward and dipped their handkerchiefs in the blood and kept them as relics. A woman also offered linen to enshroud the bodies, and one, attached to Huss, with a company of students, conveyed the bodies to Bethlehem Chapel. With hymns and songs they buried their remains amid great solemnities, under the direction of Huss.
The three were naturally looked upon as martyrs, and Bethlehem Chapel was called by many "The chapel of the three saints." Had not Huss preached the truth? Had not these young men learned it? Were they not put to death because they stated the truth? If the truth had really reached their hearts they were martyrs. It was indeed a dreadful sin for the priests to pretend to sell for money the forgiveness of sins, call it by the name of indulgence or any name you please.
The death of these young men had been attended by so much excitement that others who were in prison were liberated; while the hands of the true friends of Bethlehem Chapel were strengthened. The truths taught had borne fruit; and they were truths worth dying for.
The news that Huss was condemning the sale of indulgences soon reached the pope, who put the matter into the hands of Cardinal Peter de St. Angelo, charging him to use the severest measures against the heretic.
The Cardinal pronounced the sentence of excommunication against Huss. In twenty days, if he disobeyed the pope, the ban was to be proclaimed in the churches with the ringing of all the bells and the extinguishing of all the tapers! By a second order from the pope, who by this time had perhaps heard of all that had taken place at Prague, they were to seize at once on Huss, and deliver him or condemn and burn him. Bethlehem Chapel was to be destroyed to its foundation.
The senators met together, and resolved to carry the orders of the pope into execution. On October 2 they proceeded to disperse the congregation at Bethlehem and seize Huss. But they were met with such a firm resolution on the part of the congregation that they were compelled to abandon their object. They resolved however that they would destroy the Chapel; but, when this became known, such commotions arose that they were compelled to give this up also. Huss solemnly appealed from the pope to the Lord Jesus Christ. It was advised that for a time Huss should leave Prague. This he agreed to, and retired to some of the strong castles of his friends; one of the first being the castle of Kozi-hrádek, belonging to the lords of Austie.
The king now strove to bring about a compromise for the sake of the peace of the kingdom; but it all ended in no real union. The papal party made the pope and all he did the ultimate appeal, while the friends of Huss insisted upon the Holy Scriptures.
In the meantime Huss was busy studying the word and writing, and especially a work on the church. Huss reverted to the passage, "Where two or three are gathered together in my name there am I in the midst of them." "There then," said he, "would be a true particular church. Christ alone is the all-sufficient Head of the church." Then he turned and looked at that which called itself the church, and said, "We may well be amazed to see with what effrontery those who are most devoted to the world, who live most worldly and abominable lives, most distant from the walk with Christ, and who are most unfruitful in performing the counsels and commandments of Christ —with what fearless effrontery such persons assert that they are heads, or eminent members, of the church, which is His bride." Just at that time as we have seen, John XXIII was pope, claimed to be the head of the church, and yet he was one of the most wicked of men.
Though in retirement Huss was continually writing to his friends; and ever and anon he longed to be preaching again in Bethlehem Chapel. This desire became so strong that in 1413 he braved all dangers and paid short visits to Prague, spent a few hours in communion with his friends, retiring again to privacy as soon as his presence began to be known outside the circle of his friends. To be nearer Prague he came to reside at a castle at Cracowec. There too he began preaching, and numbers flocked together from all quarters to hear him.
Huss and the Council of Constance.
Huss continued at his blessed and happy work of preaching the gospel when he had formal information that a General Council was to be held at Constance, at which he would be required to be present, and his case would be considered. Sigismund, brother of King Wenceslaus, was Emperor, and he requested the king to send Huss to Constance, and promised to give him a safe-conduct, enjoining upon all, in the name of the Emperor, not to molest him. Huss required no driving—he was anxious to defend himself from the charge of heresy, and to give an account of his faith in presence of the representatives of all Western Christendom, and to testify against the corruptions of the church. He wrote to the Emperor, saying, that "under the safe-conduct of your protection I shall, with the permission of the Highest, appear at the next council at Constance.”
In the meantime he returned to Prague. Many of his friends were filled with fear as to his safety; but nothing could shake his resolution to appear at Constance. He committed his cause to God. "If my death," said he, "can glorify His name, then may He hasten it, and give me grace to endure with good courage whatever evil may befall me. But if it is better for me that I should return to you, then let us beseech God for this, that I may come back to you from the council without wrong; that is, without detriment to His truth, so that we may from thenceforth be able to come to a purer knowledge of it, to destroy the doctrines of Antichrist, and leave behind us a good example for our brethren.”
On the 11th of October, 1414, Huss left Prague, accompanied by two knights, Wenzel of Duba and John of Chlum. Great interest was taken in his journey, and in some places large bodies flocked to see the intrepid man. At all places he was ready to give a reason of the hope that was in him, and make known what he had learned from scripture.
On November 3 he entered Constance, and announced his arrival to the pope. For four weeks he was left to himself; but his personal enemies arriving, Paletz among them, they bestirred themselves to influence others against him.
On November 28 Huss was at his lodging in company with his friend the Knight of Chlum, when visitors were announced, These proved to be the bishops of Augsburg and Trent with two others. They told Huss that he was going to have the hearing he desired, and they had come to fetch him to the pope's palace. Huss protested; it was in the council he desired to be heard. The Knight of Chlum also protested. But they were assured that there was no bad intention. So they went. On the lower floor he was met by the mistress of the house, who took leave of Huss in tears. He gave her his blessing. He was confronted with some of his enemies, who were now rejoiced, and said plainly, "Now we have you, nor shall you escape till you have paid the uttermost farthing." Huss was a prisoner. Indeed soldiers had been placed in the adjacent streets as a provision against any commotion or resistance.
Towards evening, it was intimated to Chlum that he might retire to his lodging: Huss must remain. The knight now saw the trap that had been laid for them, and was filled with indignation. He hastened off to the pope and reproached him with treachery. The pope declared it was not his doing, but that of the Cardinals. This might be true, for he himself, being one of three popes, was at the mercy of the Cardinals. The same night Huss was removed, and after eight days he was confined in a narrow dungeon on the Rhine, which was filled with foul air from a sink.
The Knight of Chlum next hastened to inform the Emperor of how his safe-conduct had been violated. The Emperor expressed indignation, and ordered Huss to be set free, and threatened to break open the prison doors if it was not done. He was not yet come to Constance, but when he came he did nothing. It is doubtful whether the Emperor was sincere in the expression of his intention, but it is recorded that some of the council waited upon him, and begged him not to interfere in matters relating to heresy, as that was their province; and this may have weighed with him. Huss remained a prisoner. The unhealthy position of his cell brought on a dangerous illness. The pope sent to him his own physician: for, as one has said, "it was not desired that he should die a natural death." Through the intercession of his friends he was shifted to a more airy room in the same convent.
After Huss had left Prague for Constance, a movement had taken place to show that it was right for Christians to take the wine as well as the bread at the Lord's Supper. In the Church of Rome only the bread is given, because they say, the body and blood of Christ are both present in the bread. They wrote from Prague to ask the judgment of Huss. He referred to the scripture, and there it was plain enough that Christians partook of both; and now, though a prisoner, he did not hesitate to say what he had found. They commenced to give the people the bread and the wine. Afterward this was one of the charges brought against Huss.
Various propositions were made to Huss as to his case, but nothing was yet really settled, when on March 21, 1415, the council was thrown into confusion by the flight of Pope John. He doubtless foresaw that he, with the other popes, would be deposed, and to save this he fled from the place. But with him also went the attendants of Huss, who was now left destitute, yet a prisoner. His friends again pressed on the Emperor for his release, but his enemies prevailed, and he was now imprisoned in the castle of Gottleben, and chained night and day.
At length, through the intercession of the friends of Huss, he was promised a hearing in the council. He was also brought from the castle to a Franciscan convent at Constance; and by a singular retribution the next prisoner in that castle at Gottleben was the man who had been pope John XXIII. (in whose name Huss had been first imprisoned), now deposed, and simply called Balthazar Cossa, who had been caught and was now a prisoner.
A long list of charges was made out against Huss. The first article was read. Huss acknowledged it, and began to defend it from scripture.
But they said, All that was nothing to the point. Again he began, but they interrupted him continually, until he saw it was no use, and was silent. The more just part of the council were ashamed; and it broke up in confusion.
On the 7th of June he appeared again, the Emperor being now present. The second point was that Huss denied Transubstantiation. This he denied. He had his own way of explaining it, but as yet he believed in the real presence of the body and blood of Christ in the bread and wine. Then many other subjects followed with long discussions. At length the Emperor told Huss that he had better submit to the council, and he promised that they would deal with him in a lenient manner, and he should be let off with a slight penance and satisfaction. If not, they would know what to do with him. The Emperor would not undertake to protect his errors; he would sooner prepare the fagots for him with his own hands. On the 8th of June Huss was again brought up, and other charges read to him, to which he answered fully. Then again he was advised by the council and the Emperor to submit to the council, and recant.
After he left, the council settled that if he recanted he was to be a prisoner for life; and efforts were made to get him to recant. A form was drawn up and submitted to him; but he could not sign it. Then various members of the council visited him and begged him to recant and to submit to the council. One said that he ought to do this if even the council was wrong!
The Knight of Chlum begged Huss to confess to any error if he knew of any, but he exhorted him to suffer any punishment sooner than deny the truth. Huss was moved, and replied, weeping, "I call God the Almighty, as I have often done, to witness that from my heart I am ready whenever the council teaches me anything better by testimonies from Holy Scripture, to change my opinion at once, and to confess publicly under oath, that I was previously in error." This they called obstinately clinging to his errors, so far was it from their thoughts that anything should be proved by scripture only.
Huss was now condemned to death, to the lasting disgrace of the Emperor, who had given him a safe-conduct. He must first be degraded. He was dressed as a priest. His dress was taken piece by piece with a denunciation at each. A chalice was placed in his hand which was then taken from him with the words, "We take from thee, condemned Judas, the cup of salvation." To this he replied, "But I trust in God my Father, the Almighty, and my Lord Jesus Christ, for whose name I bear this, that He will not take from me the cup of His salvation; and I have a firm hope that I shall yet drink of it to-day in His kingdom." A cap, painted over with devils, was then placed on his head, with the words Arch-heretic. "Then they said," Now we give over thy soul to the devil." “But I, "said Huss, raising his Jesus Christ, to heaven," commend into Thy hands, Christ, my soul, by Thee redeemed.”
He was led to the place of execution July 6, 1415, and there bound to the stake, and chained to it by the neck. Just before the pile of fagots was lit, the marshal of the Empire rode up and again called upon him to recant. He could not. "The chief aim of my preaching," said he, "was to teach men repentance and the forgiveness of sins according to the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the expositions of the holy Fathers; therefore I am prepared to die with a joyful soul." The fagots were lit, which blazing up soon stifled him, as he called on Jesus Christ, Son of the living God. The ashes of his body were thrown into the Rhine, that nothing might remain to pollute the earth.
Thus died this honored servant of the Lord. He was not clear on some points, and in doctrine he did not think it possible for any one to know if he was saved, but in fact he seemed to have no doubts about his own salvation. Rome had triumphed in putting him to death, as they thought; but it was he who really had triumphed, and had resisted all their seduction, and had died for the truth.
The result of his teaching exists to this day. Though they burnt the man, they could not uproot the seed he had sown, and it brought forth fruit, notwithstanding all the powers of Rome to uproot it and stamp it out. The reason is, that it was of God, and by God, and for God; and when He works none can hinder.
Jerome a Martyr
Jerome of Prague, the friend of Huss, was to pass through a similar ordeal. He had been to Constance secretly, but the Emperor refusing him a safe-conduct he returned to Bohemia. But his enemies succeeded in seizing him, and he was brought to Constance in chains. This was in May, 1415. He was thrown into prison, chained fast, and kept there for four months. He was pressed much to recant; and, his imprisonment telling seriously upon his health, he broke down and offered to do so. His recantation was drawn up for him, and on September 23 he read it before the council. He abjured all the heresies with which he was charged, and all the heresies of Wiclif and Huss: agreed with the sentence on both those Reformers, with other particulars. After this he expected his liberty, but he was conducted back to prison, though he was no longer bound in fetters.
His enemies doubted if his recantation was real, and feared that if he was again in Bohemia he would head the Reformers; so he was further questioned by others appointed to do so. Thus months were consumed until Jerome refused to answer any more in private; he demanded to be heard by the council. This was granted in May 1416. He made a very eloquent speech, as to many events at Prague, and then they expected to hear his further recantation, when he declared that there was no one of his sins he more repented of than having said, on the fear of death, that he agreed with the death of that saintly confessor of the truth John Huss. He took back all he had said against Wiclif and Huss, and declared that his judges would have to answer to God if they condemned him wrongfully.
Many were moved by his eloquence, and tried to save him by getting him again to recant. But though they tried hard, he remained firm to the end. On May 30 he was condemned to death.
They led him to where Huss had suffered. He sang a spiritual song as they fastened him to the stake. The wood was being lit behind him, but he called out to the executioner to light it before him; for if he had been afraid he should not have come there. The fire burned, and Jerome repeated with a loud voice, "Into thy hands, O God, I commit my spirit." An eye-witness said, "With cheerful looks he went readily and willingly to his death; he feared neither death, nor the fire and its torture.”
Ziska and the Bohemians.
The results in Bohemia of the martyrdom of Huss and Jerome, and the severe edicts that were carried out against their followers, were sad in the extreme. Many of them were tortured and burnt alive. As many as sixteen hundred were thrown alive down the mines. At length, by the leadership of a warrior named John Ziska, forgetful that our Lord had declared that His kingdom was not of this world, else would His disciples have fought, the Hussites, as they were called, armed to defend themselves.
Ziska was attached to the court of the king, and it was noticed that ever after the death of Huss he had never been the same man; but was gloomy and thoughtful. For hours he would wander about with his eyes to the ground, muttering now and then words no one could understand. One day the king asked the cause of his gloomy silence. "They have burnt John Huss," said he, "and we have not yet avenged him." "I cannot help it," said the king; "you must try yourselves what you can do.”
The king had not seriously meant this, but Ziska took it earnestly, and called the Hussites to arms. The king, terrified at the thought of a rebellion, ordered the citizens to bring all their arms to the palace at Wischerad, where he then resided. They obeyed, yet not as he expected, for they came fully armed, ready to battle. Ziska said to the king, "Here we are," and asked against what enemy he wished them to march. The king was powerless; and the Hussites marched through the town. Passing the town hall, one carrying a chalice, in token that they gave the people the cup as well as the bread, a stone was thrown from the senate house and struck the bearer of the cup. Ziska's men-immediately broke open the doors and threw some of the senators out of the window.
This same year (1419) King Wenceslaus died. The Hussites' sent to Queen Sophia and also to the Emperor Sigismund proposing a compromise. The Emperor insulted the messengers, and vowed to settle it in a bloody revenge. This was the man who had violated his safe-conduct to Huss, and they knew they could expect no mercy from him, they therefore prepared for the worst. Ziska called all to arms, even those who could throw a stone; and then they did not wait for the Emperor, but marching through the land they burnt the churches and monasteries, putting many priests to death. One had led astray Ziska's favorite sister, which injury he could never forget.
When the churches were first refused to the followers of Huss, they were led out by their pastors into the open air where they could enjoy freedom of worship. One of these places became a permanent settlement. It was a high hill about sixty miles south of Prague. This hill Ziska, being a skilful warrior, strongly fortified, and it was called Mount Tabor. And the enemy they compared to the Moabites and Amalekites. At length Sigismund and Frederick of Austria arrived with an army of 100,000 men. They marched to Prague and put many to death and then proceeded to attack the mount; but after a long and severe battle the Germans were compelled to flee, leaving their camp in the hands of Ziska. Victory followed victory until the Taborites, as they were called, were the masters of all Bohemia, and even penetrated Austria and Germany.
At another time 150,000 soldiers were sent against Ziska. The Germans were very cruel, and burnt their prisoners, not caring whether they were Reformers or not. On the other hand Ziska and his followers declared that they were the elect of God: all things belonged to them; they might lawfully seize property, and put to death God's enemies. Alas, that any, in the name of God should have adopted such principles!
For thirteen years Ziska carried on the war, and all the resources of the pope and the Emperor were unable to put down or overcome the Bohemians. As Ziska's death approached, he ordered that they should make a drum of his skin, the very sound of which, he said, would make the Philistines flee! Procopius succeeded him and was equally successful.
The success of the Bohemians was very remarkable, so much so that Melanchthon said that an angel of God must have accompanied the army, and smote their enemies. Ziska had lost the sight of one eye in his youth, and he lost the use of the other in a siege as early as 1420, and yet, though totally blind, he was enabled to lead on the army to victory. It could not be called God's war, though God may have brought about His own purposes thereby, and may have used Ziska and his army to show that the pope and the Emperor were not invincible; but it brought no glory to God, and gained for the Christians neither peace nor real prosperity. It associated them with thousands who had no interest in the truth, and stirred up all the worst passions of man.
In 1431 the council of Basle was held, and endeavors were made to come to terms, but it was not until 1433 that Rome allowed the cup to the people.
This gained many over to the side of Rome, and many deserted the army of Procopius. In a battle he was slain and many of his people. Sigismund now entered Prague, and sought to restore peace by making promises to the followers of Huss. But as he increased in power he proceeded to deprive them of their churches, and another violent commotion was being raised, when the Emperor died (1437).
In 1436 Rome was further successful by making Rokyzan, a Calixtine, Archbishop of Prague, who soon began to use his endeavors to induce the people to give up the cup. This man is a fearful instance of an apostate. He was so far gained to the truth that he exhorted the true Hussites to meet in private, and he even helped them with the aid of books. "I know that your sentiments are true," said he, "but if I should patronize your cause, I must incur the same infamy and disgrace which you do." Among the faithful was his nephew Gregory, who was so terribly racked, that he fainted away, and they thought him to be dead. The news of this being brought to Rokyzan, he rushed off to the prison, and in remorse exclaimed, “My dear Gregory, I would to God I were where thou art!" Gregory, however, recovered, and was long spared to help on the work; while Rokyzan was obliged to take part in the persecution, and, after repeated exhortations to take his place with the faithful, died in despair.
In 1457 the Hussites took the name of United Brethren, and were by persecution obliged to live in dens and caves. Many fled to Moravia and others to Poland, carrying with them the truths they had learned. In easier times they again became numerous in Bohemia, so that about A.D. 1500 they numbered nearly 200 congregations in Bohemia and the surrounding countries.
In the seventeenth century, when the times were comparatively quiet, the Protestants, or "the Reformed," as they were called in Bohemia, had greatly increased. A numerous sect, called Utraquists, had special privileges from the Emperor, in which the other Reformed churches desired to share. Matthias, King of Bohemia, became Emperor in 1612, and he refused to grant their request. This caused the Utraquists to fear that they too might be next robbed of their privileges, so they united with the Lutherans and Calvinists to oppose the Emperor. Matthias had sent commissioners to Prague to inform the deputies of his majesty's final decision. While they met, an armed body of Utraquists, forgetting their character as professed followers of Christ, entered the council chamber, seized three of the most obnoxious of the commissioners, and threw them out of the window, which was eighty feet from the ground. A large heap of dung saved their lives, and they escaped. This was the commencement of a long and bloody war between the Catholics and Protestants, known in history as the Thirty Years' War. After devastating Germany and surrounding countries, in 1648 the peace of Westphalia established what is called "religious liberty.”
We have thus far sketched the Reformation in Bohemia. Huss had stood so high as a Christian, especially in his godly life and his testimony against the evils around, that he became a watchword, to which was attached that of our own Wiclif. To be a follower of Huss, or to hold doctrines similar to those of Huss or Wiclif was at once to stamp such a one as a heretic, and one dangerous to the interests of Rome. The faithfulness of John Huss; his opposition to the sale of indulgences; his preaching the word of God; and his exposing all that was called "holy," which was only evil and wickedness, was the light of the Reformation, the light which God was igniting in various parts of the world, to lead His own to truth and liberty.
Sad it is, that there was also a shadow—a dark shadow—that followed in the Reformed taking the sword, and in the bloodshed and devastation that was carried on in the name of God and of His holy religion; associated too, as it was, in some cases with the sacred emblem of the cup attached to the supper of our Lord.
Amid man's many failures
God carries on His plan,
He gives not up His purpose
Though all should fail in man.
So, spite of human follies,
He darkness puts to flight,
And, though all Hell opposes,
He spreads His truth and light.