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BOOK III
THE COUNCIL OF BASEL
1419-1444.
CHAPTER III.
BOHEMIA AND THE HUSSITE WARS
1418- 1431
The fortunes of Sigismund had not been prosperous
since his departure from Constance. The glories of the revived empire which had
floated before his eyes soon began to fade away. Troubles in his ancestral
states occupied all his attention, and prevented him from aspiring to be the
arbiter of the affairs of Europe. His dignified position at Constance as
Protector of the Council that was to regulate the future of the Church entailed
on him nothing but disappointment. It was easy for the Council to burn Hus and
to condemn his doctrines; but the Bohemian people were not convinced by either
of these proceedings, and cherished a bitter feeling of Sigismund’s perfidy. He
had invited Hus to the Council, and then had abandoned him; he had inflicted a
disgrace on their national honor which the Bohemians could never forgive. The
decrees of the Council found little respect in Bohemia, and a league was formed
among the Bohemian nobles to maintain freedom of preaching. The teaching of
Jakubek of Mies, concerning the necessity of receiving the communion under both
kinds, give an outward symbol to the new beliefs, and the chalice became the
distinctive badge of the Bohemian reformers. The Council in vain summoned
Wenzel to answer for his neglect of its monitions; in vain it called on
Sigismund to give effect to its decrees by force of arms. Sigismund knew the
difficulties of such an attempt, and as heir to the Bohemian kingdom did not
choose to draw upon himself any further hatred from the Bohemian people.
Before the election of a new Pope, the Bohemians could
still denounce the arbitrary proceedings of the Council, and hope for fairer
hearing in the future. But the election of Oddo Colonna, who as Papal
commissioner had condemned Hus in 1411, dashed all further hopes to the ground.
Martin V accepted ail that the Council had done towards the Bohemian
heretics, and urged Sigismund to interpose. He threatened to proclaim a crusade
against Bohemia, which would then be conquered by some faithful prince, who
might not be willing to hand it over to Sigismund. The threat alarmed
Sigismund, who wrote urgently to his brother Wenzel; and the indolent Wenzel,
who had allowed dim notions of impossible toleration to float before his eyes,
at last roused himself to see the hopelessness of his attempt neither to favor
nor discourage the new movement. At the end of 1418 he ordered that all the
churches in Prague should be given up to the Catholics, who hastened to return
and wreak their wrath on the heretics. Two churches only were left to the
Utraquists, as the reformed party was now called, from its administration of
the communion under both kinds. But the multitudes began to meet in the open
air, on hill-tops, which they loved to call by Biblical names: Tabor and Horeb
and the like. Peacefully these assemblies met and separated; but this condition
of suppressed revolt could not long continue. On July 22, 1419, Wenzel’s wrath
was kindled by hearing of a vast meeting of 40,000 worshippers, who had
received the communion under both kinds, and had given it even to the
children of their company.
These meetings at once awakened the enthusiasm of the
Utraquists, and gave them confidence in their strength. On Sunday, July 30, a
procession, headed by a former monk, John of Sulau, who had preached a fiery
sermon to a large congregation, marched through the streets of Prague, and took
possession of the church of S. Stephen, where they celebrated their own rites.
Thence they proceeded to the Town Hall of the Neustadt, and clamored that the
magistrates should release some who had been made prisoners on religious
grounds. The magistrates were the nominees of Wenzel to carry out his new
policy; they barred the doors, and looked from the windows upon the crowd.
Foremost in it stood the priest, John of Sulau, holding aloft the chalice.
Someone from the windows threw a stone, and knocked it from his hands. The fury
of the crowd blazed out in a moment. Headed by John Zizka, of Trocnow, a
nobleman of Wenzel’s court, they burst open the doors, slew the burgomaster,
and flung out of the windows all who did not succeed in making their escape. It
was the beginning of a religious war more savage and more bloody than Europe
had yet seen.
Wenzel’s rage was great when he heard of these
proceedings. He threatened death to all the Hussites, and particularly the
priests. But his helplessness obliged him to listen to proposals for
reconciliation. The rebels humbled themselves, the King appointed new
magistrates. Wenzel’s perplexities, however, were soon to end; on August 16 he
was struck with apoplexy, and died with a great shout and roar as of a lion. He
was buried secretly at night, for Prague was in an uproar at the news of his
death. Wenzel’s faults as a ruler are obvious enough. He was devoid of wisdom
and energy; he was arbitrary and capricious; he was alternately sunk in sloth,
and a prey to fits of wild fury. He had none of the qualities of a statesman;
yet with all his faults he was felt by the Bohemians to have a love for his
people, to whom he was always kindly and familiar, and to whom in his way he
strove to do justice. His own ambiguous position towards his brother Sigismund
and European politics corresponded in some measure with the ambiguous attitude
of Bohemia towards the Church, and for a time he was no unfitting
representative of the land which he ruled. Just as events had reached the point
when decision was rendered inevitable, Wenzel’s death handed over to Sigismund
the responsibility of dealing with the future of Bohemia.
Sigismund did not judge it expedient to turn his
attention immediately to Bohemia. His Hungarian subjects clamored for his aid
against the Turks, who were pressing up the Danube valley. He was bound to help
them first, and obtain their help against Bohemia. He trusted that conciliatory
measures would disarm the Bohemian rebels, whom he would afterwards be able to
deal with at leisure. Accordingly he appointed the widowed queen, Sophia, as
regent in Bohemia, and round her gathered the nobles in the interests of public
order. At the head of the Government stood Cenek of Wartenberg, who was leader
of the Hussite league, and who strove to check excesses by a policy of
toleration. But men needed guarantees for the future. The Diet which met in
September, 1419, and in which the Hussites had a majority, demanded of
Sigismund that he should grant full liberty for the Utraquist preaching and
ceremonies, and should confer office in the State on the Czechs only.
Sigismund returned the ambiguous answer that he hoped soon to come in person,
and would govern according to the old customs of his father, Charles IV. No
doubt the answer was pleasant to the patriotic aspirations which their request
contained; but men significantly observed that there were no Hussites in
Charles IV’s days.
Queen Sophia was obliged to write repeatedly to
Sigismund, begging him to be more explicit; but only drew from him a
proclamation recommending order and quiet, and promising to examine into the
Utraquist question when he arrived. Sigismund hoped to gain time till he had an
army ready; he hoped to win over the Hussite nobles by a display of confidence
meanwhile, and slowly gather round himself all the moderate party.
But Sigismund did not know the strength nor the
political sagacity of the leaders of the extreme party, which had been slowly
but surely forming itself since the death of Hus. The moderate party were men
of the same views as Hus, who were faithful to an ideal of the Church, repelled
the charge of heresy, and still hoped for tolerance, at least in time, for
their own opinions. With men such as these Sigismund could easily deal. But the
extreme party, who were called Taborites from their open-air meetings,
recognized that the breach with Rome was irreparable, and were prepared to
carry their opinions into all questions, religious, political, and social
alike. Their position was one of open revolt against authority both in Church
and State; they rested on the assertion of the rights of the individual, and
appealed to the national sentiment of the masses of the people. At the head of
this party stood two men of remarkable ability, Nicolas of Hus and John Zizka,
both sprung from the smaller nobility, and both trained in affairs at Wenzel’s
court. Of these, Nicolas had the eye of a statesman; Zizka the eloquence, the
enthusiasm, and the generalship needed for a leader of men. Nicolas of Hus saw
from the first the real bearing of the situation; he saw that if the extreme
party of the reformers did not prepare for the inevitable conflict they would
gradually be isolated, and would be crushed by main force. Zizka set himself to
the task of organizing the enthusiasm of the Bohemian peasants into the stuff
which would form a disciplined army. Like Cromwell in a later day, he used the
seriousness that comes of deep religious convictions as the basis of a strong
military organization, against which the chivalry of Germany should break
itself in vain. While Sigismund was delaying, Zizka was drilling. On October 25
he seized the Wyssehrad, a fortress on the hill commanding the Neustadt of
Prague, and began a struggle to obtain entire possession of the city. But the
excesses of the Taborites, and the fair promises, of the Queen-regent,
confirmed the party of order. Prague was not yet ready for the Taborites, and
on November 11 Zizka and his troops fell back from the city.
In this state of things Sigismund advanced from
Hungary into Moravia, and in December held a Diet at Brünn. Thither went Queen
Sophia and the chief of the Bohemian nobles; thither, too, went the ambassadors
of the city of Prague, to seek confirmation for their promised freedom of
religion. Sigismund’s attitude was still ambiguous; he received them
graciously, did not forbid them to celebrate the communion in their own fashion
in their own houses, but ordered them to keep peace in their city, submit to
the royal authority, lay aside their arms, and he would treat them gently. The
burghers of Prague submitted, and destroyed the fortifications which menaced
the royal castle. Sigismund could view the results of his policy with
satisfaction. The submission of Prague spread terror on all sides; the power of
Sigismund impressed men’s imagination; the Catholics began to rejoice in
anticipation of a speedy triumph.
From Brünn Sigismund advanced into Silesia, where was
received with loyal enthusiasm, and many of the German nobles met him at
Breslau. Sigismund became convinced of his own power and importance and let
drop the mask too soon. At Breslau he put down the Utraquists, inquired
severely into a municipal revolt, which was insignificant compared to what had
happened in Prague, caused twenty-three citizens to be executed for rebellion,
and on March 17 allowed the Papal legate to proclaim a crusade against the
Hussites. The result of this false step was to lose at once the support of the
moderate party, and to alienate the national feeling of the Bohemians. The
people of Prague issued a manifesto calling all who loved the law of Christ and
their country’s liberties to join in resisting Sigismund’s crusade. The nobles,
headed by Cenek of Wartenberg, denounced Sigismund as their enemy and not their
king. The country was at once in arms, and the pent-up fanaticism was let
loose. Churches and monasteries were destroyed on every side. No country was so
rich in splendid buildings and treasures of ecclesiastical ornament as was
Bohemia; but a wave of ruthless devastation now swept across it which has left
only faint traces of the former splendor. Again excesses awoke alarm among the
modern nobles. Cenek of Wartenberg went back to Sigismund’s side; and the
burghers of Prague saw themselves consequently in a dangerous plight, as the
two castles between which their city lay, the Wyssehrad and the Hradschin,
again declared for Sigismund. As they could not defend their city, they again
turned to thoughts of submission, in return for an amnesty and permission to
celebrate the communion under both kinds. But Sigismund had now advanced into
Bohemia and proudly looked for a speedy triumph. He demanded that they should
lay aside their arms and submit. This harshness was a fatal error on
Sigismund’s part, as it drove the burghers of Prague into alliance with the
extreme party of Zizka.
As yet this alliance had not been made; as yet Prague
wished to proceed on the old constitutional lines. It wished to recognize the
legitimate king, and obtain from him tolerance for the new religious beliefs.
If this were impossible, there was nothing left save to throw in their lot with
those who wished to create a new constitution and a new society. Zizka had been
preparing for the contest. He remorselessly pursued a policy which would
deprive the Catholics of their resources, and would compel Bohemia
to follow the course in which it had engaged. Monasteries were everywhere
pillaged and destroyed; Church property was seized; the lands of the orthodox
party were ruthlessly devastated. Sigismund, if he entered Bohemia, would find
no resources to help him. Zizka so acted as to make the breach at once
irreparable; he wished to leave no chance of conciliation, except on condition
of recognizing all that he had done. Moreover, he established a center for his
authority. When he failed to seize Prague as a stronghold, he sought out a spot
which would form a capital for the revolution. A chance movement made him
master of the town of Austi, near which were the remains of an old fortified
place. Zizka’s eye at once recognized its splendid military situation, lying on
the top of a hill, which was formed into a peninsula by two rivers which flow
round its rocky base. Zizka set to work to build up the old walls, and
strengthen by art the strong natural position. The approach to the peninsula,
which was only thirty feet wide, was rendered secure by a triple wall and a
deep ditch. Towers and defenses crowned the whole line of the wall. It was not
a city, but a permanent camp, which Zizka succeeded in making, and to
which was given the characteristic name of Tabor. Henceforth the name of
Taborites was confined to Zizka’s followers.
Before the danger which threatened them with entire
destruction, as Sigismund’s army numbered at least 80,000 men from almost every
nation in Europe, all parties in Bohemia drew together. The troops of Zizka
entered Prague, and the burghers destroyed such parts of their city as were
most open to attack from the Wyssehrad and the Hradschin, which were held by
the Royalists. The hill of Witkow, on the north-east of the city, was still
held by the Hussites, and against that Sigismund directed an attack on July 14.
The attention of the enemy was distracted by assaults in different quarters,
and Sigismund’s soldiers pressed up the hill. But a tower, defended by
twenty-six Taborites, with two women and a girl who fought like heroes, kept
the troops at bay till a band of Zizka’s soldiers came to their aid, and
charged with such fury that the Germans fled in dismay. Sigismund learned with
shame and anger the powerlessness of his great host to contend against a people
actuated by national and religious zeal. Their repulse kindled in the Germans a
desire for vengeance, and they massacred the Bohemian inhabitants of the
neighboring towns and villages. When the Bohemian nobles of the King’s party
resented this display of hatred against the entire Bohemian race, Sigismund’s
unwieldy army began to break up. There was again a talk of negotiation, and the
people of Prague sent to Sigismund their demands, which are known as the Four
Articles of Prague, and formed the charter of the Hussite creed. They asked for
freedom of preaching, the communion under both kinds, the reduction of the
clergy to apostolic poverty, and the severe repression of all open sins. These
articles were a worthy exposition of the principles of the Reformation: the
first asserted the freedom of man to search the Scriptures for himself; the second
attacked one of the great outposts of sacerdotalism, the denial of the cup to
the laity; the third cut at the root of the abuses of the ecclesiastical
system; and the fourth claimed for Christianity the power to regenerate and
regulate society. There was some semblance of discussion on these points but
there could be no agreement between those who rested on the authority of the
Church and those who entirely disregarded it.
These negotiations, however, gave still further
pretext for many of Sigismund’s troops to leave his army. Resolving to do
something, Sigismund on July 28 had himself crowned King of Bohemia, a step
which gave greater appearance of legitimacy to his position. He strove to bind
to his interests the Bohemian nobles by gifts of the royal domains and of the
treasures of the churches. Meanwhile the Hussites besieged the Wyssehrad and
succeeded in cutting off its supplies. It was reduced to extremities when
Sigismund made an effort to relieve it. The chivalry of Moravia, Hungary, and
Bohemia were checked, in their fiery charge by the steady organization of the
Taborites, and more than four hundred of the bravest nobles were slaughtered by
the flails of the peasants as they struggled in the vineyards and marsh at the
bottom of the hill. Sigismund fled, and the Wyssehrad surrendered on November
1.
After this, Sigismund’s cause was lost, and he was
regarded as the murderer of the nobles who fell in the disastrous battle of the
Wyssehrad. The troops of Zizka overran Bohemia, and the Catholic inhabitants
fled before them. Town after town submitted, and in March, 1421, Sigismund left
Bohemia in despair. He had hopelessly mismanaged affairs. He had alternated
between a policy of conciliation and one of repression. He had alienated the
Bohemians through the cruelty of his German followers, and had lost the support
of the Germans through his anxiety to win the Bohemian nobles. Finally his hope
of overcoming the people by the help of the native nobles had ignominiously
failed and had covered Sigismund with disgrace.
The Utraquists were now masters of Bohemia, and the
whole land was banded together in resistance to the Catholicism and Sigismund.
The nobles joined with the people, and Prague was triumphant; even the
Archbishop Conrad accepted the Four Articles of Prague on April 21, 1421. The
movement spread into Moravia, which joined with Bohemia in its revolution. The
next step was the organization of the newly-won freedom. A Diet held at Caslau
in June accepted the Four Articles of Prague, declared Sigismund an enemy
of Bohemia and unworthy of the Crown, appointed a Committee of twenty
representatives of the different estates and parties to undertake the
government of the land until it had a king, and left the organization of
religious matters to a synod of clergy which was soon to be convoked.
Sigismund’s ambassadors offering toleration, scarcely obtained a hearing: the
offer came a year too late.
Although Bohemia was united in opposition to Sigismund
and Catholicism, it was but natural that the divergencies of opinion within
itself should grow wider as it felt itselt more free from danger. The division
between the Conservative and Radical party became more pronounced. The
Conservatives, who were called Calixtins or Utraquists from their ceremonial,
or Praguers from their chief seat, held by the position of Hus—a position of
orthodoxy in belief, with a reformation of ecclesiastical practice carried out
according to Scripture. They altered as little as possible in the old
ecclesiastical arrangements, retained the mass service with the communion under
both kinds, and observed the festivals of the Church. Against them were set the
Radicals, the Taborites, amongst whom there were several parties. The most
moderate, at the head of which stood Zizka, differed from the Praguers not so
much in belief as in the determined spirit with which they were prepared to
defend their opinions and carry them out in practice. The thorough Taborites
cast aside all ecclesiastical authority and asserted the sufficiency of
Scripture, for the right understanding of which the individual believer was
directly illuminated by the Holy Ghost. They rejected Transubstantiation, and
asserted that Christ was present in the elements only in a figurative way.
Besides these were various extreme sects, who held that the Millennium had
begun, that God existed only in the hearts of the believers, and the devil in
the hearts of the wicked. Most notorious amongst these was the small sect of
the Adamites, who took possession of a small island on the river Nezarka and
gave themselves up to a life of communism which degenerated into shameless
excesses. Against these extreme sectaries the Praguers and Zizka set up a
standard of orthodoxy, and proceeded to measures of repression. Fifty of both
sexes were burned by Zizka on the same day: they entered the flames with a
smile, saying, “Today will we reign with Christ”. The island of the Adamites
was stormed, and the entire body exterminated. Martinek Hauska, the chief
teacher who opposed Transubstantiation, was burned as a heretic in Prague.
It was indeed needful that Bohemia should retain the
appearance of unity if she were to succeed in maintaining her new religious
freedom. Sigismund was disheartened by the failure of his first attempt, and
was ready to wait and try the results of moderation. But the German electors
and the Pope were by no means willing to give up Bohemia as lost. The four
Rhenish Electors formed a league against the heretics: the Papal legate,
Cardinal Branda, journeyed through Germany to kindle the zeal of the faithful.
Sigismund was openly denounced as a favorer of heresy, and was compelled to
bestir himself. It was agreed that the Electors should lead an army from
Germany, and Sigismund should advance from Hungary through Moravia and unite with
them. In September Germany poured an army of 200,000 men into Bohemia; but
Sigismund tarried and deferred his coming. Loud accusations of treachery were
brought against him by the angry princes, and disputes sprang up among them.
The vast army wasted its energies in the siege of Saaz, and began gradually to
disperse; the news of Zizka’s advance turned it to shameful flight. It was said
ironically that such was the horror which the German princes felt against the
heretics, that they could not even endure to see them. When Sigismund had
finished his preparations, he also in December entered Bohemia with a
formidable army of 90,000 men, well-armed, trained in warfare, led by Pipo of
Florence, one of the most renowned generals of the age. Zizka put forth all his
powers of generalship to save Bohemia from the impending danger.
Zizka, who had been one-eyed for years, had lost his
remaining eye at the siege of the little castle of Rabi in August. He was now
entirely blind, but his blindness only gave greater clearness to his mental
vision, and he could direct the movements of a campaign with greater precision
than before. The very fact that he had to be dependent on others for
information led him to impress more forcibly his own spirit on those around
him, and so train up a school of great generals to succeed him. Under Zizka’s
guidance the democratic feeling of the Bohemians had been made the basis of a
new military organization which was now to try its strength against the
chivalry of the Middle Ages. Strict discipline prevailed amongst Zizka’s
troops, and he was able to meet the dash of the feudal forces with the coolness
of a trained army which could perform complicated manoeuvres with unerring
precision. He paid especial attention to artillery, and was the first great
general to realize its importance. Moreover, he adapted the old war chariots to
the purposes of defence. His line of march was protected on the flanks by
wagons fastened to one another by iron chains. These wagons readily formed the
fortifications of a camp or served as protection against an attack. In battle
the soldiers, when repulsed, could retire behind their cover, and form again
their scattered lines. The wagons were manned by the bravest troops, and their
drivers were trained to form them according to letters of the alphabet; so that
the Hussites, having the key, easily knew their way amongst the lines,
while the enemy, if they forced their way, were lost in an inextricable
labyrinth. At times the wagons, filled with heavy stones, were rolled downhill
on the enemy’s ranks; when once those ranks were broken, the wagons were
rapidly driven in, and cut in two the enemy’s line. It was a new kind of
warfare, which spread terror and helplessness among the crusading hosts.
This new organization was sorely tried when, on
December 21, Sigismund’s army advanced against Kuttenberg, and met Zizka’s
forces hard by its walls. The wagons of the Bohemians proved an impregnable
defence, and their artillery did great injury, against the Hungarians. But
treachery was at work in Kuttenberg, and opened the gates to Sigismund. Next
day the Bohemians found themselves shut in on all sides, and their foes
prepared to reduce them by hunger. But in the darkness of the night Zizka drew
his troops together, and with a charge of his wagons broke through the enemy’s
line and made good his retreat. Rapidly gathering reinforcements, Zizka
returned to Kuttenberg on January 6, 1422, and fell suddenly upon the centre of
the unsuspecting army. A panic seized the Germans; Sigismund fled
ignominiously, and his example was followed by all. Zizka followed, and, aided
by the wintry weather, inflicted severe losses on the invaders. More than
12,000 men are said to have perished. The second crusade against the Hussites
failed even more signally than the first.
Bohemia had now beaten back both Sigismund, who came
to assert his hereditary rights to the crown, and the German princes, who
viewed with alarm the dismemberment of the empire. There remained the more
difficult task of organizing its political position. The great statesman,
Nicolas of Hus, was dead, and Zizka had the talents of a general rather than a
politician. His own democratic ideas, were too strong for him to put himself at
the head of the State, and bring about the necessary union between the Praguers
and the Taborites. The Bohemian nobles and the Conservative party generally
desired to take the management of affairs out of the hands of the
Taborites, and reestablish a monarchy. Already they had offered the kingdom to
Ladislas, King of Poland, who shrank from incurring the charge of heresy, which
would hinder him in his constant warfare against the Teutonic Knights in
Prussia. But Witold, Grand Duke of Lithuania, a man of high political sagacity,
had before his eyes the possibility of a great Slavic confederacy which would
beat back all German aggression. He saw in the Hussite movement a means of
bridging over the religious differences between the Latin and Greek Churches,
which were an obstacle to the union of Prussia and Poland. These plans of
Witold created great alarm in Germany, and many efforts were made to thwart
them; but Witold took advantage of events, announced to the Pope that he wished
to restore order in Bohemia, and in May, 1422, sent the nephew of Ladislas of
Poland, Sigismund Korybut, with an army to Prague. Prague, torn with internal
dissensions, accepted Korybut as a deliverer. Zizka recognized him as ruler of
the land, and Korybut showed zeal and moderation in winning over all parties to
his side.
This union of Bohemia and Poland was a standing menace
to Germany, and a Diet held at Nurnberg in July appointed Frederick of
Brandenburg to lead a new expedition into Bohemia. Frederick was keenly alive
to the gravity of the situation, which indeed threatened himself in Brandenburg.
He endeavored to gather together both an army for a crusade and a permanent
army of occupation, which was to be left in Bohemia. But Germany’s internal
weakness and constant dissensions prevented Frederick from accomplishing
anything. He led a few soldiers into Bohemia, spent some time in negotiations,
and then returned Nor was Korybut’s position in Bohemia a strong one. He failed
in his military undertakings; his attempts at conciliation alienated the
extreme Taborites; Zizka maintained an attitude of neutrality towards him.
Meanwhile Martin V was untiring in his endeavors to break down the alliance
between Poland and Bohemia. He exhorted the Polish bishops to labor for that
purpose. He wrote to Ladislas and Witold, pointing out the political dangers
which beset them if they strayed from Catholicism. Sigismund, on his part, was
willing to purchase an alliance with Poland by abandoning the cause of the
Teutonic Knights. The combined efforts of Martin V and Sigismund were
successful. Witold wrote to the Bohemians that his desire had been to reconcile
them with the Roman Church; as they were obstinate, he was driven to abandon
them to their fate. Korybut was recalled, and left Prague on December 24. The
great idea of a Slavonic Empire and Church was at an end, and the future of
Poland was decided by its cowardice at this great crisis. Henceforth it was
condemned to the isolation which it had chosen through want of foresight.
The departure of Korybut and freedom from invasion
awakened amongst the Bohemians the differences which danger made them forget.
The Praguers and the Taborites stood in stronger opposition to one another. The
Praguers were more disposed to negotiation, and hoped that they might still
find room for their opinions under the shadow of the authority of the Church.
Zizka had grown more convinced of the futility of compromise, and a stern
spirit of resistance took possession of him and his followers. The year 1423 is
full of the records of civil war and devastation in Bohemia, and Zizka spread
fire and slaughter even in the neighboring lands of Moravia and Hungary. The
year 1424 is known in Bohemian annals as “Zizka’s bloody year”. He swept
like a storm over towns and villages of those who wished for compromise, and
inflicted a sore defeat on the forces of the Praguers who were following on his
track. The Praguers in dismay looked for a leader and found him in Korybut, who
in June, 1424, returned to Prague, no longer as the deputy of Witold and the
Governor of Bohemia, but as a personal adventurer at the head of the Moderate
party. Zizka advanced against Prague; and the capital of Bohemia, the seat of
Hus and his teaching, was in danger of a terrible siege. But moderate counsels
prevailed at the last moment to avert this crowning calamity. Zizka withdrew
and soon after died of the plague on October 11. His followers bewailed the
loss of one who was to them both leader and father; they took the name of
Orphans in sign of their bereavement.
Zizka was a man of profound, even fanatical, piety,
with great decision and energy, who clearly saw the issue that lay before the
Bohemians if they wished to maintain their religious freedom. But he was a man
of action rather than reflection. He had the qualities necessary to head a
party, but not those necessary to lead a people. He could solve the problem for
himself by a rigorous determination to be watchful and to persist; but his
range of ideas was not large enough to enable him to form any policy which
would organize the nation to keep what it had won. Amid Bohemian parties he
maintained a strong position, opposed to extremes but convinced of the
hopelessness of conciliation. As a general he is almost unrivalled, for he knew
how to train out of raw materials an invincible army, and he never lost a
battle. He could drive back hosts of invaders and could maintain order within
the limits of Bohemia; but he lacked the political sense that could bind a
people together. His position became more and more a purely personal one; his
resolute character degenerated into savagery; and his last energies were spent
in trying to impress upon all his own personal convictions without any
consideration of the exact issue to which they would lead. Without Zizka
Bohemia would never have made good her resistance to the Church and to
Sigismund. It was his misfortune rather than his fault that he had not also the
political genius to organize that resistance on a secure basis for the
future.
By Zizka’s death the party opposed to reconciliation
with Rome lost its chief strength. The Taborites divided into two—the Orphans,
who held by the opinions of Zizka, and were separated from the Praguers rather
on social and political than on religious grounds; and the extreme Taborites,
who denied Transubstantiation and were entirely opposed to the Church system.
But both these parties were feeble, and spent their energies in conflicts with
one another. The field was open for Korybut and the Praguers to continue
negotiations for peace and reconciliation. Bohemia was growing weary of
anarchy. The first fervor of religious zeal had worn away, the first enthusiasm
had been disillusioned. Men were beginning to count the cost of their political
isolation, of the devastation of their land by foes without and quarrels
within, of the ruin of their commerce. Against this they had little to set as a
counterpoise. The exactions of feudal lords were as easy to bear as the
exactions of a plundering army; the equality which they had hoped to find
through religion was not yet attained. Though victorious in the field, the
great mass of the Bohemian people longed for peace almost on any terms.
During the year 1425 Korybut pursued his negotiations,
engaged in paving the way for reconciliation with Rome. The people were not
unwilling, but the army still remained true to its faith. As they felt that
danger was menacing them, the Taborites again drew together, reasserted their
principles and prepared to wage war. Besides the danger from half-heartedness
at home, two active enemies harassed the Bohemian border. Albert of Austria
attacked Moravia, and Frederick of Meissen, whom Sigismund had made Elector of
Saxony, was winning back Silesia. A new leader arose to guide the renewed vigor
of the Taborites, Procopius, called the Great to distinguish him from others of
the same name. Procopius, like Zizka, was sprung from the lower nobility, and
was a priest at the time when he first attached himself to the party of Hus.
Without possessing the military genius of Zizka, he knew how to manage the army
which Zizka had created; and he had a larger mind and was capable of greater
plans than his predecessor. Procopius was averse from war, and as a priest
never bore arms nor took part in the battles which he directed. He wished for
peace, but an honorable and enduring peace, which would guarantee to Bohemia
her religious freedom. Peace, he saw, could only be won by arms; it was not
enough to repel the invaders, Bohemia must secure its borders by acting on the
offensive. He led his troops up the Elbe to the siege of Aussig. Frederick of Saxony
was absent at a Diet at Nurnberg, but his wife Catharine called for succors and
gathered an army of 70,000 men. The Bohemian troops, reinforced by Korybut,
amounted only to 25,000, On June 16, 1426, was fought the battle under the
walls of Aussig.
The Bohemians entrenched themselves behind their
wagons, and the furious onslaught of the German knights forced the first line.
But the artillery opened on their flank; the Bohemians from their wagons
dragged the knights from their horses with long lances, and dashed them to the
ground. TheGerman lines were broken, and the Bohemians rushed in and turned
them to flight. The slaughter that ensued was terrible; 10,000 Germans were
left dead upon the field. Procopius wished to lead his victorious army farther,
so as to teach the Germans a lesson; but the Moderates refused to follow, and
the campaign came to an end without any other results.
As usual, a victory united Germany and disunited Bohemia.
Korybut pursued his schemes for union with Rome, and wrote to Martin V asking
him to receive Bohemian envoys for this purpose. Martin V expressed his
willingness, provided they would abide by the decision of the Holy See, which
was, however, ready to receive information of their desires. Korybut hoped that
the Pope would abandon Sigismund and recognize himself as King of Bohemia in
return for his services to the Church. But Korybut was not yet firm enough in
his position to carry out his plan. The dissension between the Taborites and
the Praguers was not yet so profound that the Moderates as a body were willing
to submit unreservedly to Rome. Korybut’s plans were known in Prague, and a
party formed itself, which, while in favor of reconciliation, stood firm by the
Four Articles. On Maundy Thursday, April 17, 1427, an eloquent and popular
priest, John Rokycana, denounced in a sermon the treachery of Korybut. The
people flew to arms, drove out the Poles, and made Korybut a prisoner. His
plans had entirely failed, and the victory of the Moderate party over him
necessarily turned to the profit of Procopius and the Taborites.
Procopius was now ruler of Bohemia, and carried out
his policy of terrifying his opponents by destructive raids into Austria,
Lusatia, Moravia, and Silesia. Germany in alarm again began to raise forces;
and Martin V hoped to gain greater importance for the expedition by appointing
as Papal legate Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, whom he made Cardinal for
the purpose. Beaufort’s experience of affairs and high political position made
him a fit man to interest England and France in the cause of the Church. In
July, 1427, a strong army entered Bohemia and laid siege to Mies; but the
soldiers were undisciplined and the leaders were disunited. On the approach of
Procopius a panic seized the army, and it fled in wild confusion to Tachau.
There Henry of Winchester, who had stayed behind in Germany, met the fugitives.
He was the only man of courage and resolution in the army. He implored them to
stand and meet the foe; he unfolded the Papal banner and even set up a crucifix
to shame the fugitives. They stayed and formed in battle order, but the
appearance of the Bohemian troops again filled them with dread, and a second
time they fled in panic terror. In vain Henry of Winchester tried to rally
them. He seized the flag of the Empire, tore it in pieces and flung them before
the princes; but at last was himself driven to flee, lest he should fall into
the hands of the heretics.
This disgraceful retreat did not bring men’s minds
nearer to peace. Martin V urged a new expedition, and Sigismund was not sorry
to see the Electors in difficulties. In Bohemia the party of peace made a vain
effort to raise Prague in the name of Korybut; but the rising was put down
without the help of Procopius, and Korybut was sent back to Poland in
September, 1427. Procopius rallied round him the entire Hussite party, and,
true to his policy of extorting an honorable peace, signalized the year 1428 by
destructive raids into Austria, Bavaria, Silesia, and Saxony. After each
expedition he returned home and waited to see if proposals for peace were
likely to be made. In April, 1429, a conference was arranged between Sigismund
and some of the Hussite leaders, headed by Procopius, at Pressburg in Hungary.
Sigismund proposed a truce for two years till the assembling of the Council at
Basel, before which the religious differences might be laid. The Hussites
answered that their differences arose because the Church had departed from
the example of Christ and the Apostles: the Council of Constance had shown them
what they had to expect from Councils; they demanded an impartial judge between
the Council and themselves, and this judge was the Holy Scripture and writings
founded thereon. The proposal of Sigismund was referred to a Diet at Prague,
and answer was made that the Bohemians were ready to submit their case to a
Council, provided it contained representatives of the Greek and Armenian
Churches, which received the Communion under both kinds, and provided it
undertook to judge according to the Word of God, not the will of the Pope.
Their request was equitable but impracticable. It was clearly impossible for
them to submit to the decision of a Council composed entirely of their
opponents; yet they could have little hope that their proposal to construct an
impartial tribunal would be accepted.
The negotiations came to nothing. Indeed, Sigismund
was busy at the same time in summoning the forces of the Empire to advance
again Bohemia. Henry of Winchester had gathered a force of 5000 English
horsemen, and in July, 1429, landed in Flanders on his way to Germany. But
religious considerations were driven to give way to political. The unexpected
successes of Jeanne d’Arc, the raising of the siege of Orleans, the coronation
of Charles VII at Rheims, gave a sudden check to the English power in France.
Winchester’s soldiers were ordered to the relief of their countrymen; the
Cardinal’s influence could not persuade his men to prefer religious zeal
to patriotic sentiment. The Catholics in Germany broke into a wail of lamentation
when they saw the forces of the Papal legatediverted to a war with France.
Germany was feeble, and Bohemia was again agitated by
a struggle. The peace party in Prague had for its quarters the Old Town, and
the more pronounced Hussites the New Town. The two quarters of the city were on
the point of open hostility when Procopius again united Bohemia for a war of
invasion. The year 1430 was terrible in the annals of Germany, for the Hussite
army carried devastation into the most flourishing provinces of the Empire.
They advanced along the Elbe into Saxony, and penetrated as far as Meissen;
they invaded Franconia, and threatened with siege the stately town of Nurnberg.
Wherever they went the land was laid waste, and fire and slaughter were spread
on every side.
The policy of Procopius was beginning to have its
effect. The Hussite movement was the great question which attracted the
attention of Europe. Hussite manifestoes were circulated in every land; the new
opinions were discussed openly, and in many places met with considerable
sympathy. The Hussites complained that their opponents attacked them without
really knowing their beliefs, which were founded only on Holy Scripture;
they invited all men to acquaint themselves with their opinions; they appealed
to the success of their arms as a proof that God was on their side. The opinion
began to prevail that, after all, argument and not arms was the proper mode of
meeting heresy, particularly when arms had proved a failure. Martin V, who
hated the very name of a Council, was again haunted at the end of 1430 by the
face of John of Ragusa, who had been negotiating with Sigismund that he should
combine with the University of Paris to urge on the Pope a speedy summons of
the Council to Basel. Soon after John’s arrival in Rome, on the morning of
November 8, the day on which Martin V was to create three new Cardinals, a
document was found affixed to the door of the Papal palace which caused a great
sensation in Rome.
“Whereas it is notorious to all Christendom, that
since the Council of Constance an untold number of Christians have wandered
from the faith by means of the Hussites, and members are daily being lopped off
from the body of the Church militant, nor is there any one of all the sons whom
she begat to help or console her; now, therefore, two most serene princes
direct to all Christian princes the following conclusions, approved by learned
doctors both of canon and of civil law, which they have undertaken to defend in
the Council to be celebrated according to the decree of Constance in March
next”. Then followed the conclusions, which set forth that the Catholic faith
must be preferred before man, whoever he be; that princes secular as well as
ecclesiastical are bound to defend the faith; that as former heresies, the
Novatian, Arian, Nestorian, and others, were extirpated by Councils, so must
that of the Hussites; that every Christian under pain of mortal sin must strive
for the celebration of a Council for this purpose; if Popes or Cardinals put
hindrances in the way they must be reckoned as favorers of heresy; if the Pope
does not summon the Council at the appointed time those present at it ought to
withdraw from his obedience, and proceed against those who try to hinder it as
against favorers of heresy. This startling document was currently supposed to
be authorized by Frederick of Brandenburg, Albert of Austria, and Lewis of
Brieg.
Several of the Cardinals, chief of whom was
Condulmier, future Pope, urged on Martin V to comply with the prevailing wish.
But Martin V wished again to try the chance of War, and awaited the results of
a diet which Sigismund had summoned to Nurnberg. On January 11, 1431, he
appointed a new legate for Germany, Giuliano Cesarini, whom he had just created
Cardinal. Cesarini was sprung from a poor but noble family in Rome, and his
talents attracted Martin V’s notice. He was a man of large mind, great personal
holiness, and deep learning. His appearance and manner were singularly
attractive, and all who came in contact with him were impressed by the
genuineness and nobility of his character. If any man could succeed in
awakening enthusiasm in Germany it was Cesarini.
Before Cesarini’s departure to Germany Martin V had
been brought with difficulty to recognize the necessity of the assembly of the
Council at Basel, and commissioned Cesarini to preside at its opening. The Bull
authorizing this was dated February 1, and conferred full powers on Cesarini to
change the place of the Council at his will, to confirm its decrees and do all
things necessary for the honor and peace of the Church. This Bull reached
Cesarini at Nurnberg, shortly after the news of Martin V’s death. The Diet of
Nurnberg voted an expedition into Bohemia, and Cesarini eagerly travelled
through Germany preaching the crusade. At the same time steps were taken to
open the Council at Basel. On the last day of February a Burgundian abbot read
before the assembled clergy of Basel the Bulls constituting the Council, and
then solemnly pronounced that he was ready for conciliar business. In April
representatives of the University of Paris and a few other prelates began to
arrive; but Cesarini sent to them John of Ragusa on April 30 to explain that
the Bohemian expedition was the object for which he had been primarily
commissioned by the Pope, and was the great means of extirpating heresy. He
besought them to send envoys to help him in his dealings with the
Bohemians, and meanwhile to use their best endeavors to assemble others to the
Council. The envoys of the Council, at the head of whom was John of Ragusa,
followed Sigismund to Eger, where he held a conference with the Hussites. The
conference was only meant to divert the attention of the Bohemians, and it was
speedily ended by a demand on the part of the envoys that the Bohemians should
submit their case unconditionally to the Council’s decision. Sigismund returned
to Nurnberg on May 22, and the German forces rapidly assembled. There were
complaints at the legate’s absence; Cesarini’s zeal had led him as far as Koln,
whence he hastened to Nurnberg on June 27. There he found a messenger from
Eugenius IV, urging the prosecution of the Council, and bidding him, if it
could be done without hindrance to the cause at heart, to leave the Bohemian
expedition and proceed at once to Basel. But Cesarini’s heart and soul were now
in the crusade. He determined to pursue his course, and on July 3 appointed
John of Palomar, an auditor of the Papal court, and John of Ragusa, to preside
over the Council as his deputies in his absence.
On July 5 Cesarini addressed an appeal to the
Bohemians, protesting his wish to bring peace rather than a sword. Were they
not all Christians? Why should they stray from their holy mother the Church?
Could a handful of men pretend to know better than all the doctors of
Christendom? Let them look upon their wasted land and the miseries they had
endured; he earnestly and affectionately besought them to return while it was
time to the bosom of the Church. The Bohemians were not slow to answer. They
asserted the truth of the Four Articles of Prague, which they were prepared to
prove by Scripture. They recounted the results of the conferences at Pressburg
and Eger, where they had professed themselves willing to appear before any
Council which would judge according to Scripture, and would work with them in
bringing about the reformation of the Church according to the Word of God. They
had been told that such limitations were contrary to the dignity of a General
Council, which was above all law. This they could not admit, and trusting in God’s
truth were prepared to resist to the utmost those who attacked them.
On July 7 Cesarini left Nurnberg with Frederick of
Brandenburg, who had been appointed commander of the Crusade. Cesarini had done
his utmost to pacify the German princes and unite them for this expedition. He
was full of hope when he set out from Nurnberg. But when he reached Weiden,
where the different contingents were to meet, his hopes were rudely dispelled.
Instead of soldiers he found excuses; he heard tales of nobles needing their
troops to war against one another rather than combine in defence of the Church.
“We are many fewer”, he wrote to Basel on July 16, “than was said in Nurnberg,
so that the leaders hesitate. Not only our victory but even our entry into
Bohemia is doubtful. We are not so few that, if there were any courage amongst
us, we need shrink from entering Bohemia. I am very anxious and above measure
sad. For if the army retreats without doing anything, the Christian religion in
these parts is undone; such terror would be felt by our side, and their
boldness would increase”. However, on August 1, an army of 40,000 horse and
90,000 foot crossed the Bohemian border, and advanced against Tachau. Cesarini
seeing it unprepared for attack urged an immediate onslaught: he was told that
the soldiers were tired with their march, and must wait till tomorrow. In the
night the inhabitants strengthened their walls and put their artillery into
position, so that a storm was hopeless. The crusading host passed on,
devastating and slaughtering with a ruthless cruelty that was a strange
contrast to the charitable utterances of Cesarini’s manifesto. But their
triumph was short-lived. On August 14 the Bohemian army advanced against them
at Tauss. Its approach was known, when it was yet some way off, by the noise of
the rolling wagons. Cesarini, with the Duke of Saxony, ascended a hill to see
the disposition of the army; there he saw with surprise the German wagons
retreating. He sent to ask Frederick of Brandenburg the meaning of this movement,
and was told that he had ordered the wagons to take up a secure position in the
rear. But the movement was misunderstood by the Germans. A cry was raised that
some were retreating. Panic seized the host, and in a few moments Cesarini saw
the crusaders in wild confusion making for the Bohemian Forest in their rear.
He was driven to join the fugitives, and all his efforts to rally them were
vain. Procopius, seeing the flight, charged the fugitives, seized all their
wagons and artillery, and inflicted upon them terrible slaughter. Cesarini
escaped with difficulty in disguise, and had to endure the threats and
reproaches of the Germans, who accused him as the author of all their
calamities.
Cesarini was humbled by his experience. He reproached
himself for his confidence in German arms; he had now seen enough, of the
cowardice and feebleness of Germany. He had seen, too, the growing importance
of the Hussite movement, and the force which their success was giving to the
spread of their convictions throughout Germany. When he returned to Nurnberg
Sigismund met him with due honor; the German princes gathered round him and
protested their readiness for another campaign next year. But Cesarini answered
that no other remedy remained for the check of the Hussite heresy than the
Council of Basel. He besought them to do their utmost to strengthen the
feeble and cheer the desponding in Germany, to exhort those whose faith was
wavering to hold out in hope of succor from the Council. With this advice he
hastened to Basel, where he arrived on September 9. To the Council were now
transferred all men’s expectations of a peaceable settlement of the formidable
difficulty which threatened Western Christendom.
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