Gattinara, the Emperor's chancellor, died at Innspruck. This was considered a great loss to the reformers. He was a man of good sense and moderation, and decidedly opposed to the sanguinary views of the papal party. He possessed great influence over the mind of the Emperor, and was the only man who dared to resist the pope. The timid Melancthon exclaimed on hearing of his death, "With him all the human hopes of the Protestants vanish."
Two days after Gattinara's death, Charles quitted Innspruck. He arrived at Munich on the 10th of June, and at Augsburg on the 15th. He made his public entry into the city with extraordinary pomp. Never, according to the historians, had anything so magnificent been seen in the empire. We only notice that which shows the firmness of the Protestants. The Elector, the princes, and their councilors left the city at three in the afternoon to meet Charles on his way. When he had come within fifty paces of the German princes, they all alighted. Perceiving the Emperor preparing to do the same, some of them advanced and begged him to remain on horseback; but Charles dismounted without hesitating, and approaching the princes with an amicable smile, shook hands with them cordially. The Roman legate remained proudly seated on his mule; but seeing the graciousness of Charles, he raised his hands and blessed the great personages thus assembled on the road. Immediately, the Emperor, the king, the princes, the Spaniards, Italians, and all who submitted to the pope, fell on their knees; but the Protestants, like Mordecai, bowed not. They remained standing in the midst of this prostrate crowd. How galling it must have been to the papal party! But Charles did not appear to notice it, though he must have understood well what it meant. After the usual formalities, the great procession moved on—two thousand imperial guards leading the way.
The Emperor was now thirty years of age: of distinguished bearing and pleasing features; pale and delicate-looking, with a weak voice, but winning manners, having the air of a courtier more than of a warrior. He marched straight to the cathedral as a humble worshipper, amidst the gorgeous parade of ecclesiastical wealth and display, and the military pride and warlike show of many nations and many crowned heads. When he reached the altar, he fell on his knees, and raised his hands to heaven, as if all he cared for were there, and himself a pilgrim and a stranger on the earth. A gold embroidered cushion was offered him, but he refused it, and knelt on the bare stones of the church. All the assembly knelt with him; the Elector and the Landgrave alone remained standing. They required to be present officially, but they acted according to their faith in God and His word.