The Franciscan Confessor – The Soul in the Burialground – The Shoemaker of Hagenau – The Students – Myconius – Conversation with Tetzel – Trick of a Nobleman – Remarks of the Wise and of the People – A Miner of Schneeberg
BUT now let us turn to the scenes which this sale of the pardon of sins at that time gave rise to in Germany. There are characteristics which, of themselves alone, depict the times. We prefer using the language of the men whose history we are narrating.
At Magdeburg, Tetzel refused to absolve a rich lady, unless (as he declared to her) she would pay one hundred florins in advance. She requested the advice of her usual confessor, who was a Franciscan: "God grants the remission of sins gratuitously," replied the monk, "he does not sell it." He begged her, however, not to communicate to Tetzel the counsel she had received from him. But this merchant having notwithstanding heard a report of this opinion so contrary to his interests, exclaimed: "Such a counselor deserves to be banished or to be burnt.”
Tetzel rarely found men enlightened enough, and still more rarely men who were bold enough, to resist him. In general he easily managed the superstitious crowd. He had set up the red cross of the indulgences at Zwickau, and the worthy parishioners had hastened to drop into his strongbox the money that would deliver them. He was about to leave with a well-stored purse, when, on the eve of his departure, the chaplains and their acolytes asked him for a farewell supper. The request was just. But how contrive it? The money was already counted and sealed up. On the morrow he caused the great bell to be tolled. The crowd rushed into the church; each one imagined something extraordinary had happened, seeing that the business was over. "I had resolved," said he, "to depart this morning; but last night I was awakened by groans. I listened attentively... they came from the cemetery... Alas! It was some poor soul calling upon me and earnestly entreating me to deliver it from the torments by which it is consumed! I shall stay, therefore, one day longer, in order to move the compassion of all Christian hearts in favor of this unhappy soul. I myself will be the first to give, and he that does not follow my example will merit condemnation." What heart would not have replied to this appeal? Who knows, besides, what soul it is thus crying from the cemetery? The offerings were abundant, and Tetzel entertained the chaplains and their acolytes with a joyous repast, the expense of which was defrayed by the offerings given in behalf of the soul of Zwickau.
The indulgence-merchants had visited Hagenau in 1517. The wife of a shoemaker, taking advantage of the authorization given in the commissary-general's instructions, had procured a letter of indulgence, contrary to her husband's will, and had paid a gold florin. She died shortly after. As the husband had not caused a mass to be said for the repose of her soul, the priest charged him with contempt of religion, and the magistrate of Hagenau summoned him to appear in court. The shoemaker put his wife's indulgence in his pocket, and went to answer the accusation-"Is your wife dead?" asked the magistrate-"Yes," replied he-"What have you done for her?"-"I have buried her body, and commended her soul to God."-"But have you had a mass said for the repose of her soul?"-"I have not: it was of no use; she entered heaven at the moment of her death."-"How do you know that?"-"Here is the proof." As he said these words, he drew the indulgence from his pocket, and the magistrate, in presence of the priest, read in so many words, that, at the moment of her death, the woman who had received it would not go into purgatory, but would at once enter into heaven. "If the reverend gentleman maintains that a mass is still necessary," added the widower, "my wife has been deceived by our most holy father the pope; if she has not been, it is the priest who deceives me." There was no reply to this, and the shoemaker was acquitted. Thus did the plain sense of the people condemn these pious frauds.
One day as Tetzel was preaching at Leipsic, and mingling with his sermon some of these stories of which we have given a specimen, two students quitted the church in indignation, exclaiming: "It is impossible for us to listen any longer to this monk's jokes and puerilities." One of them, we are informed, was the youthful Camerarius, who afterward became Melancthon's intimate friend and biographer.
But of all the young men of the age, the one on whom Tetzel made the deepest impression was doubtless Myconius, afterward celebrated as a reformer and historian of the Reformation. He had received a Christian education. "My son," his father, a pious Franconian, would often say to him, "pray frequently; for all things are given to us gratuitously from God alone. The blood of Christ," added he, "is the only ransom for the sins of the whole world. O my son, though three men only should be saved by Christ's blood, believe, and believe with assurance, that thou art one of those three men. It is an insult to the Savior's blood to doubt that he can save." And then, cautioning his son against the traffic that was now beginning to be established in Germany: "Roman indulgences," said he again, "are nets to catch silver, and which serve to deceive the simple-minded. Remission of sins and eternal life are not to be purchased with money.”
At the age of thirteen Frederick was sent to the school at Annaberg to finish his studies. Tetzel arrived in this city shortly after and remained there two years. The people flocked in crowds to hear his sermons. "There is no other means of obtaining eternal life," cried Tetzel in a voice of thunder, "than the satisfaction of works. But this satisfaction is impossible for man. He can therefore only purchase it from the Roman pontiff.”
When Tetzel was about to quit Annaberg, his sermons became more earnest. "Soon," cried he in threatening accents, "I shall take down the cross, shut the gates of heaven, and extinguish the brightness of the sun of grace that beams before your eyes." And then assuming a tender tone of exhortation: "Now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." Again raising his voice, the priestly Stentor, who was addressing the inhabitants of a country whose wealth consisted in its mines, shouted out: "Bring your money, citizens of Annaberg! contribute bounteously in favor of indulgences, and your mines and your mountains shall be filled with pure silver!" Finally, at Whitsuntide, he declared that he would distribute his letters to the poor gratuitously, and for the love of God.
The youthful Myconius was one of Tetzel's hearers. He felt an ardent desire to take advantage of this offer. "I am a poor sinner," said he to the commissaries in Latin, "and I have need of a gratuitous pardon."-"Those alone," replied the merchants. "Can have part in Christ's merits who lend a helping hand to the Church, that is to say, who give money."-"What is the meaning, then," asked Myconius, "of those promises of a free gift posted on the gates and walls of the churches?"-"Give at least a great," said Tetzel's people, after having vainly interceded with their master in favor of the young man. "I cannot."- "Only six deniers." "I am not worth so many." The Dominicans begin to fear that he came on purpose to entrap them. "Listen," said they, "we will make you a present of the six deniers." The young man replied indignantly: "I will have no bought indulgences. If I desired to buy them, I should only have to sell one of my schoolbooks. I desire a gratuitous pardon, and for the love of God alone. You will render an account to God for having allowed a soul to be lost for six deniers."- "Who sent you to entrap us?" exclaimed the vendors. -"Nothing but the desire of receiving God's pardon could have made me appear before such great gentlemen," replied the young man, as he withdrew.
“I was very sad at being thus sent away unpitied. But I felt, however, a comforter within me, who said that there was a God in heaven who pardons repentant souls without money and without price, for the love of his Son Jesus Christ. As I took leave of these folks, the Holy Spirit touched my heart. I burst into tears, and prayed to the Lord with anguish: O God! Cried I, since these men have refused to remit my sins, because I wanted money to pay them, do thou, Lord, have pity on me, and pardon them of thy pure grace. I repaired to my chamber, I prayed to my crucifix which was lying on my desk; I put it on a chair, and fell down before it. I cannot describe to you what I experienced. I begged God to be a father to me, and to do with me whatever he pleased. I felt my nature changed, converted, transformed. What had delighted me before, now became an object of disgust. To live with God and to please him was my earnest, my sole desire.”
Thus did Tetzel himself prepare the Reformation. By flagrant abuses, he cleared the way for a purer doctrine; and the indignation he aroused in a generous youth was one day to burst forth with power. We may form some idea of this by the following anecdote.
A Saxon nobleman, who had heard Tetzel at Leipsic, was much displeased by his falsehoods. Approaching the monk, he asked him if he had the power of pardoning sins that men have an intention of committing. "Most assuredly," replied Tetzel, "I have received full powers from his holiness for that purpose."-"Well, then," answered the knight, "I am desirous of taking a slight revenge on one of my enemies, without endangering his life.
I will give you ten crowns if you will give me a letter of indulgence that shall fully justify me." Tetzel made some objections; they came however to an arrangement by the aid of thirty crowns. The monk quitted Leipsic shortly after. The nobleman and his attendants lay in wait for him in a wood between Juterbock and Treblin; they fell upon him, gave him a slight beating, and took away the well-stored indulgence-chest the inquisitor was carrying with him. Tetzel made a violent outcry, and carried his complaint before the courts. But the nobleman showed the letter which Tetzel had signed himself, and which exempted him beforehand from every penalty. Duke George, whom this action had at first exceedingly exasperated, no sooner read the document than he ordered the accused to be acquitted.
This traffic everywhere occupied men's thoughts, and was everywhere talked of. It was the topic of conversation in castles, in academies, and in the burghers' houses, as well as in taverns, inns, and all places of public resort. Opinions were divided; some believed, others felt indignant. As for the sensible part of the nation, they rejected with disgust the system of indulgences. This doctrine was so opposed to the Holy Scriptures and to morality, that every man who had any knowledge of the Bible or any natural light, internally condemned it, and only waited for a signal to oppose it. On the other hand, the scoffers found ample food for raillery. The people, whom the dissolute lives of the priests, had irritated for many years, and whom the fear of punishment still kept within certain bounds, gave vent to all their hatred. Complaints and sarcasms might everywhere be heard on the love of money that devoured the clergy.
They did not stop there. They attacked the power of the keys and the authority of the sovereign pontiff. "Why," said they, "does not the pope deliver at once all the souls from purgatory by a holy charity and on account of their great wretchedness, since he delivers so many for love of perishable money and of the cathedral of St. Peter? Why are they always celebrating festivals and anniversaries for the dead? Why does not the pope restore or permit the resumption of the benefices and prebends founded in favor of the dead, since it is now useless and even reprehensible to pray for those whom the indulgences have delivered forever? What means this new holiness of God and of the pope, that for love of money they grant to an impious man, and an enemy of God, to deliver from purgatory a pious soul, the beloved of the Lord, rather than deliver it themselves gratuitously through love, and because of its great misery?”
Stories were told of the gross and immoral conduct of the traffickers in indulgences. To pay their bills to the carriers who transported them and their merchandise, the innkeepers with whom they lodged, or whoever had done them any service, they gave a letter of indulgence for four souls, for five, or for any number according to circumstances. Thus these certificates of salvation circulated in the inns and markets like band notes or other paper money. "Pay! Pay!" said the people, "that is the head, belly, tail, and all the contents of their sermons.”
A miner of Schneeberg met a seller of indulgences. "Must we credit," asked he, "what you have so often told us of the power of indulgences and of the papal authority, and believe that we can, by throwing a penny into a chest, ransom a soul from purgatory?" The merchant affirmed it was so. "Ah!" resumed the miner, "what a merciless man, then, the pope must be, since for want of a wretched penny he leaves a poor soul crying in the flames so long! If he has no ready money, let him store up some hundred thousand crowns, and deliver all these souls at once. We poor people would very readily repay him both interest and capital.”
The Germans were wearied with this scandalous traffic that was carried on in the midst of them. They could not longer endure the impositions of these master-cheats of Rome, as Luther called them. No bishop, no theologian, however, dared oppose their quackery and their frauds. All minds were in suspense. Men asked one another if God would not raise up some mighty man for the work that was to be done: but nowhere did he appear.