The Pope Reveals the Dark Secret

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 16
 
The secret was now in many hands; the officers and the allies of Charles kept no such mysterious reserve, but spoke out plainly of his intentions. The pope, overflowing with joy, not doubting the issue of the enterprise, began to sing the war-song, as in the days of Innocent III., exhorting the faithful to take up arms in the holy cause and gain indulgences. "Proud," says Dr. Robertson, "of having been the author of such a formidable league against the Lutheran heresy, and happy in thinking that the glory of extirpating it was reserved for his pontificate, he published the articles of his treaty with the Emperor, in order to demonstrate the pious intention of their confederacy, as well as to display his own zeal, which prompted him to make such extraordinary efforts for maintaining the faith in its purity. Not satisfied with this, he soon after issued a bull, containing most liberal promises of indulgence to all who should engage in this holy enterprise, together with warm exhortations to such as could not bear a part in it themselves, to increase the fervor of their prayers, and the severity of their mortifications, that they might draw down the blessing of heaven upon those who had undertaken it."
The pope being deeply grieved with Charles for endeavoring to make that pass for a political contest which he ought to have gloried in as a war that had no other object than the defense of the ancient faith, exposed the treachery of his policy and declared the overthrow of Lutheranism as at hand. The Emperor, though somewhat embarrassed by this disclosure, and not a little offended at the pope's indiscretion or malice, continued boldly to pursue his own plan, and to reassert that his intentions were only that which he had originally stated. Thus were the two heads of Christendom-the fountain of truth and the fountain of honor, so-called-proclaiming to the world that neither truth nor honor were to be found in either. And thus they stand before all posterity, down to the latest generation, a mere compound of craft, falsehood, hypocrisy, and cruelty.
But the artifices of Charles did not impose on all the Protestant confederates. Some of them clearly perceived that he had taken arms for the suppression of the Reformation, and the extinction of the German liberties. They determined, therefore, to prepare for their own defense, and resolved neither to renounce their religious liberties, nor to abandon those civil rights which had been transmitted to them by their ancestors. A deputation from the confederates waited on the Emperor, and wished to know whether these military preparations were carried on by his command, and for what end, and against what enemy? To a question put in such a form and at a time when facts were too notorious to be denied, he avowed the intentions which he could no longer conceal, but with such fascinating duplicity as to deceive the deputies. True, he admitted, that it was Germany he had in view in his preparations, but his only object was to maintain the rights and prerogatives of the imperial dignity. His purpose was, not to molest any on account of religion, but to punish certain factious members, and preserve the ancient constitution of the empire from being impaired or dissolved by their licentious conduct. Though the Emperor did not name the persons whom he had destined as the objects of his vengeance, it was well-known that he had in view John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, and Philip, Landgrave of Hesse.
Transparent as this deception was, and manifest as it might have appeared to all who considered the Emperor's character, it nevertheless lulled to sleep the timid and the wavering. They were furnished with an excuse for inactivity, "seeing," as they said, "the war does not concern religion, but is a quarrel merely between the Emperor and some members of the league." And such was the dexterity with which he used this division of feeling among the confederates, that he gained time and other solid advantages.