Section III

Huss' Betrayal and Arrest at the Council of Constance

This section comprises chapters 12 through 17. They are listed below. To go directly to any particular chapter click on the link to that chapter. Otherwise you can scroll down as you read chapter by chapter.

Chapter 12    The Council   
Chapter 13    Arrest and Imprisonment of Huss   
Chapter 14    Anxieties of the Pope   
Chapter 15    Huss Abandoned by the Emperor   
Chapter 16    The Council up to the Flight of the Pope   
Chapter 17    Supremacy of the Council and Arrest of Jerome   

The time had at length arrived for the assembling of the council of Constance. Never had any similar event occurred in the history of the church which excited a deeper or more general interest throughout the Christian world. The schism which had rent the church in pieces, and arrayed one portion against the other, the profligacy and reckless ambition of the rival popes, the wide and fearful corruption which had spread from the highest to the lowest dignitaries of the hierarchy, the alleged heresies of Huss and Petit, and the almost utter neglect into which ecclesiastical authority had fallen, combined to render the assembling of the council an event from which no ordinary results were anticipated. The emperor himself postponed regard for the interests of his kingdom to promote the convocation and the success of the council. It was in his view a greater glory to restore Christendom to the unity of a common head, than achieve victory or conquest on the field of battle. By his exertions the great obstacles to the convoking of a council had been met and removed, and at the appointed time throngs from every portion of Christendom began to pour into the ancient city of Constance.

This city had been chosen by the emperor as the place for the assembling of the council. Reluctantly had the pope receded from his resolution not to allow its convocation where his power and authority would not be paramount. The position of Constance was central, and comparatively easy of access. It was within the circle of Swabia, and subject to the imperial authority. Neither of the popes could here hope to control, or restrain the freedom of, the adherents of the other.

The city of Constance is situated upon the borders of the lake to which it gives it name. At the time of the council, and in the most flourishing period of its history, it contained little short of fifty thousand inhabitants. The traveler now finds scarcely a tithe of its former population within its walls. Old and curious houses, still standing, meet his eye as he walks the streets, but many of them untenanted. On the shores of the lake, and but a few feet from the landing, he sees the Kaufhaus, or market, memorable still as the place where the sessions of the council were held. It was built A.D. 1338, and, at the time of the assembling of the council three quarters of a century later, offered the best accommodations for a large audience-chamber to be found within the city. As the traveler walks up the solid steps of the edifice, once so thronged but now comparatively deserted, he enters the second story—a wide, low room, supported by heavy wooden pillars, and with a rough plank floor, like that of a barn. More than four hundred years ago this room was occupied by an assembly such as Christendom had never seen convoked before. The chair of the emperor, and the one in which the pope for a short time presided over the sessions of the council, together with other relics, form a museum of curiosities which are carefully preserved.

The summons to the council had been issued by the emperor, with the constrained assent of John XXIII, in October 1413. The cardinals more readily united in the summons, at least a portion of them. Full assurances of security for person and property were given to all who should attend. The emperor pledged himself not to interfere with the respect claimed for the pope, or to put hindrances in the way of his exercising his authority.

In December the pope issued his proclamation also, directing all prelates to be present in person at the council, and all princes who could not attend to send deputies, who should be authorized to act in their name. In the vast crowd that obeyed the summons, we find nearly all the men of the age who were eminent in learning, station, and authority. In some cases they were freely elected, as at Paris, by provincial or national councils, and a fixed rate was allowed for their expenses, that nothing might interfere with their presence and their regular attendance upon the sessions of the council.

The only one of the rival popes who personally appeared at Constance was John XXIII. The hostility of Ladislaus in Italy had contributed greatly to induce him to consent that the council should be summoned to meet in a city beyond the limits of his government; but at the last moment, when he was about to set out for Constance, he heard the welcome intelligence of Ladislaus’ death. This man, his bitter foe, had gathered an army for the siege of Bologna, when he was arrested by the hand of disease, and forced to withdraw, first to Rome and then to Naples, where he breathed his last. The pope’s former reluctance to leave Italy returned. He stood no longer in pressing need of Sigismund’s aid. In his anxiety to secure Rome again, he sent his general, Isolani, to seize and take possession of it. He would have been glad to have followed himself. It is amusing to see the efforts of the pope and emperor to elude and deceive one another. Sigismund was afraid that now, after all, the pope would not appear at Constance. Some of his friends warned him of the danger he incurred of going thither as pope and coming back a private man. But the counsel of the cardinals, more anxious for the union of the church, prevailed. John determined, before he set out, to secure of the emperor the most advantageous terms possible. Sigismund, on his part, dared not refuse the pope’s demands, lest his absence should defeat the design of the council. The emperor’s commissary at Constance was to accept, in the emperor’s name, the pope’s terms, and the magistrates and burgesses of Constance were exhorted and commanded to swear, on their part, to their faithful observance. No pretext was to be left the pope for non-appearance. The emperor knew the man with whom he had to deal, and, with a policy which matched the pope’s, conceded everything. John XXIII was to be received at Constance with all the honors due to the papal dignity; he should be recognized as true and sole pontiff; he should be at perfect freedom to come or go, and should exercise his authority over his dependents and all that appertained to him, without restriction. The city was bound to see that justice was done him, and his safe-conducts were to be recognized and respected. Such were the terms sworn to and signed, by order of the emperor, before the pope would set out for the council.

At length, with many fears and forebodings, he commenced his journeys. On the first of October, 1414, he left Bologna. His equipage and attendance were splendid and imposing. Gold, silver, gems, and costly raiment added to the pomp and magnificence of a princely retinue of cardinals, nobles, and their attendants. At Merau he paused in his journey to confirm his alliance with Frederic, Duke of Austria, by which each was bound to support the other in his designs. On the twenty-eighth of October the pope reached Constance. Nine cardinals only, of the thirty-three who should have been present, were in his train. With these, however, and a large number of bishops and archbishops, and with the servants of his court, he made his entrance on horseback into the city. His reception was all that he could have claimed or expected. The clergy and magistrates met and escorted him with imposing pomp to the episcopal palace.

Already the streets were thronged with strangers from every part of Christendom, and more were on their way. There came thither to this celebrated council thirty cardinals, twenty archbishops, one hundred and fifty bishops, as many prelates, a multitude of abbots and doctors, and eighteen hundred priests. Among the sovereigns who attended in person, could be distinguished the Elector Palatine, the Electors of Mentz and of Saxony, and the Dukes of Austria, of Bavaria, and of Silesia. There were, besides, a vast number of margraves, counts, and barons, and a great crowd of noblemen and knights. At one time there might have been counted, as we are told, thirty thousand horses within the circuit of the city. Each prince, nobleman, and knight was attended by his train, and the number of persons present from abroad is estimated to have been not less than forty or fifty thousand. Among these were reckoned almost every trade and profession, and some whose profession was their disgrace, but whose instincts and tastes made them seek the welcome they found among the miscellaneous crowd.

The pope had already reached Constance, "the pit for catching foes," as he called it, while observing it on his approach from a neighboring hill. The emperor was more tardily to make his appearance. Among the feeble monarchs of that day, in Europe, he towered conspicuous. Active, enterprising, intrepid, inexhaustible in resources, he owed the imperial scepter mainly to his own exertions. Often unsuccessful, his reverses were never suffered to repress his spirit or damp his energies. All the varieties of his experience had conspired to make him a shrewd and able politician, while his devotion to the interests of the church had gained him an influence and reputation that veiled the selfishness of his aims.

At the period of the assembling of the council, Sigismund was in the full strength and vigor of a mature manhood, with a prestige and power that restrained, if they could not suppress, the dissatisfactions of enemies and rivals. He was forty-seven years of age, and to the respect which he claimed for the vigor and energy of his measures, must be added the impression of his personal appearance. His manners were noble and engaging. His look and walk bespoke the emperor. He could converse with facility in several languages, nor as the son of Charles IV was he wanting in that regard for literature which honored at once his father’s memory and his own tastes. "I can in a single day make a thousand noblemen, he used to say, "but in a thousand years I cannot make a single scholar." The fierce and often sanguinary impulse of his youth had been checked by his own discretion, as well as by the lessons of experience. The example of his brother served as a warning against the indulgence of his lusts; and though his impetuous temper, even on the throne, sometimes gained the mastery, it was only for the moment that the cooler dictates of reason and policy were forced to give way. His brother’s ruling passion was for wine and revelry, and it made him reckless of expenditure, but Sigismund, by his aspiration for the honor of restoring peace and union to the church, and in the pursuance of this design, was also liberal even to a degree of prodigality. With much that was grand and chivalrous in his nature, his life shows that he could, when necessary, adopt the arts of fraud and dissimulation to promote his purpose, and his memory will never lose the stain which his shameful breach of trust toward the Bohemian reformer has made indelible. With such station, talents, and reputation, the influence of Sigismund in the council was more controlling and decisive than that of any other member.

On the eleventh of October, while the pope was yet midway on his journey, John Huss left Prague for Constance. Before quitting the Bohemian capital, he took occasion to make a full declaration of his doctrinal views. Although his mind must at times have been filled by melancholy presentiments, his heart did not quail, nor did he neglect any legitimate means of vindicating his innocence. He openly declared his purpose to render at Constance, before the assembled representatives of the Christian world, a testimony of his faith. A few days before his departure, in a paper affixed to the gates of the palace, he announced that he was about to depart in order to justify himself before the council, "so that," said he, "if anyone suspects me of heresy, let him proceed thither and prove, in presence of the pope and the doctors, if I ever entertained or taught any false or mistaken doctrine. If any man can convict me of having inculcated any doctrine contrary to the Christian faith, I will consent to undergo all the penalty to which heretics are liable. But I trust that God will not grant the victory to unbelievers—to men who outrage the truth."

Huss next announced his readiness to render an account of his faith in presence of the archbishop of Prague and his clergy. He then boldly applied for a certificate of his orthodoxy from tile very person who, in virtue of his office, should have been mint anxious to condemn him if he had believed him guilty—the bishop of Nazareth, grand inquisitor of the diocese of Prague. The certificate was granted, though we can only surmise the influences which mint hate virtually extorted it. It seems most probable that the popular feeling enlisted on the side of the reformer constrained the inquisitor to sign a document which he would willingly have withheld. Au authentic copy of it, as drawn up before a notary, was in substance as follows: "By these presents, we make known to all men that we have often held converse with the honorable Master John Huss, bachelor of theology of the celebrated university of Prague; that we have had several serious conferences with him relative to the Holy Scriptures, and other matters; and that we have always considered him to be a faithful and good Catholic, not finding in him up to this day any evil or error. We certify besides, that the said John Huss has declared that he was ready to render reason for his faith in presence of the archbishop and his clergy against anyone that might come forward to accuse him of error or heresy; but that no one presented himself to support the charge. In faith of which we have delivered to him this letter, sealed with our great seal, this 30th August, 1414."

Armed with this paper, Huss proceeded to the abbey of St. James, where the barons and the archbishop of Prague were assembled for public business. There he besought the prelate to declare openly, if he either accused or suspected him of heresy, and in case he did not, he conjured him to give a public testimony of the fact, which he might find of service in his journey to Constance. By another account, contained in a document subsequently drawn up by the nobles of Bohemia, it would appear that the question of the orthodoxy of Huss was put to the archbishop by the nobles themselves, and that his reply was, that he had never "known of any erroneous word on the part of Huss," and that this answer was given of his own free will, and under no constraint, though it was added by the archbishop, that he thought "that Huss should purge himself from the excommunication which he had incurred." It is undoubtedly true that such was the reply of the archbishop. Seven years after this he openly favored the Hussites.

A few days later, Huss asked permission to appear before a general assembly of the clergy of Prague, presided over by the archbishop. He offered to establish his innocence by scripture, by the holy canons of the church, and by the fathers; but his application was refused.

The motives which must have influenced the clergy in this matter are obvious. Undoubtedly they preferred to have Huss leave the city without such testimony as they would be constrained to give, and they hoped by means of the council to be permanently relieved of his presence. Some of them doubtless imagined that it would be much easier to deal with him in the distant city of Constance, where they could secretly magnify his errors, than in Prague, where his friends were at once so numerous and so powerful.

In the month of October, 1414, Huss bade adieu to his chapel at Bethlehem, where his voice was never more to be heard, and to his faithful friends and disciples, some of whom were to follow him in his path of self-denial, suffering, and martyrdom. He left behind him his faithful companion and bosom friend, Jerome, and the scene of parting was one of deep emotion on the part of each. "Dear master," said Jerome, "be firm; maintain intrepidly what thou hast written and preached against the pride, avarice, and other vices of the churchmen, with arguments drawn from the Holy Scriptures. Should this task become too severe for thee, should I learn that thou hast fallen into any peril, I shall fly at once to thy assistance."

The diet had demanded of the emperor a safe-conduct for Huss. This was readily granted him by Sigismund, in the usual form, and the document, dated "Spires, October 18," was forwarded to him, so as to meet him on the road, not, however, till he had passed the borders of Bohemia, where the safe-conduct of Wenzel which he had received would cease to have validity. By the king, two staunch and faithful knights, the Lords of Chlum and Duba, were appointed as companions and protectors of Huss. Several other noble barons joined the escort. John de Chlum was one of the most devoted adherents of the reformer, and his life offers a pure model of the most touching and devoted friendship. His name in the eyes of posterity is inseparably associated with that of Huss.

Previously to his departure the master would have addressed a farewell sermon to his beloved followers, but time, or probably his own tender and sympathetic spirit, would not allow of it. His written valediction shows that he was not unmindful of the danger which he incurred. "My brethren," said he, "do not suppose that I am provoking for myself unworthy treatment for any false doctrine. I am departing with a safe-conduct from the king to meet my many and mortal enemies. ... I confide altogether in the all-powerful God, in my Savior. I trust that he will listen to your ardent prayers that he will put his wisdom and prudence into my mouth, in order that I may resist them; and that he will accord me his Holy Spirit, to fortify me in his truth, so that I may face with courage, temptations, prison, and if necessary, a cruel death. Jesus Christ suffered for his well-beloved; and ought we then to be astonished that he has left us his example, in order that we may ourselves endure with patience all things for our own salvation? He is God, and we are his creatures; he is the Lord, and we are his servants; he is Mater of the world, and we are contemptible mortals; yet he suffered! Why then should we not suffer also, particularly when suffering is for us a purification? Therefore, beloved, if my death ought to contribute to his glory, pray that it may come quickly, and that he may enable me to support all my calamities with constancy. But if it be better that I return among you, let us pray to God that I may return without stain, that is, that I may not suppress one tittle of the truth of the gospel, in order to leave my brethren an excellent example to follow. Probably, therefore, you will never more behold my face at Prague; but should the will of the all-powerful God deign to restore me to you, let us then advance with a firmer heart in the knowledge and the love of his law."

It is not strange that Huss should have felt oppressed by the presentiment that he would never return to the scene of his past labors. While thoroughly conscious of his own integrity and honesty of purpose—an integrity and honesty which his enemies could not deny—he was to some extent aware of the unscrupulous means which a bigoted malice stood ready to employ. He deemed his return to Prague, at the best, doubtful. He knew that some of his most bitter foes would be present at the council, and that their whole influence would he exerted to secure his condemnation. He knew that his former friend and associate, who had once been almost a brother, with whom he had studied, ate, and slept, but now his most violent persecutor, Stephen Paletz, and a former curé of a church in Old Prague, Michael De Causis, along with several others, his bitter antagonists, had preceded him to Constance, and were determined on his ruin. He knew that the German nation, as represented in the council, would not forget their old grudge of virtual expulsion, as they considered it, from the university. And when we add to this his knowledge of the general corruption of the clergy, whom he had offended by his rebukes, and their readiness to become instruments in a transaction which could be covered with the veil of pious and devout zeal, we see that Huss may have well commenced his journey with the presentiment of imprisonment, if not of martyrdom.

But his spirit did not quail before the danger. He met it with no presumptuous rashness, but with the calm constancy and courage of a Christian hero. There was, indeed, one hope that contributed much to cheer and sustain him, and that was, that he would be privileged freely and fully to state and explain his views before the council, and show their accordance with what he still deemed the standards of the church—the scriptures and the fathers. In this hope he was doomed to disappointment, yet his faith in God humbled him to such a decree in his own esteem, while it forbade all fear of man, that the thought of turning aside or shunning the ordeal to which he was summoned seems never to have entered his mind.

In a letter which he wrote to one of his disciples, Priest Martin, at his setting out for the council, he speaks of himself with the greatest humility, and we seem to read the reformer’s heart while he unbosoms himself to his friend. He accuses himself, as if they were grave offense, of faults which most would have deemed too trifling to be noticed, of having felt pleasure in wearing rich apparel, and of having wasted hours in frivolous occupations. His own severe and enlightened conscience made him his own accuser where others could not bring the first charge of guilt. He adds these affecting instructions:

"May the glory of God and the salvation of souls occupy thy mind, and not the possession of benefices and estates. Beware of adorning thy house more than thy soul; and above all, give thy care to the spiritual edifice. Be pious and humble with the poor; and consume not thy substance in feasting. Shouldest thou not amend thy life, and refrain from superfluities, I fear thou will be severely chastised, as I am my self—I, who also made use of such things, led away by custom, and troubled by a spirit of pride. Thou knowest my doctrine, for thou hast received my instructions from thy childhood; it is useless therefore for me to write to thee any further. But I conjure thee by the mercy of our Lord, not to imitate me in any of the vanities into which thou hast seen me fall." He concludes by making some bequests, and disposing, as if by will, of several articles which belonged to him; and then, on the cover of the letter, he adds this prophetic phrase, "I conjure thee, my friend, not to break this seal until thou art fully certified of my death."

The spirit of the martyr glows brighter and more brightly in the farewell letters of Huss. We see him rising above all the influences of the fear or of the applause of men. His soul, always pure and upright, soars to a heavenly atmosphere of holy, elevated purpose. There is less of the impetuosity and the passion of former days, yet the torrent of zeal flows in a deeper, a calmer, but stronger current. W e discern, if possible, less than ever of the partisan, or of the popular orator fed on the public acclamation. He shuns the parting scene of a public leave-taking, where he knew that the strong affection which was felt for him would burst forth in turbulent grief. He needed no assurance of the attachment of the people, or of the nobility to sustain him. A firmer support he found in the promises of the divine Word, and in solitary communings with his own heart and with God. Henceforward he is to be thrown almost alone among bitter and implacable enemies. Strange faces will meet his, and prejudice will misrepresent the man and pervert his words. He stands already in presence of a cruel fate. But his soul is unmoved, unshaken by human terrors. Conscious of his own integrity, he plants his feet on the Rock of Ages. Bereft in great measure of human resource, he looks up to heaven for aid. Grace confers upon the reformer now a calm majesty of soul, such as we failed to discern while we saw him controlling others by his eloquence, or imbuing their minds with the deep sincerity and earnestness of his own convictions. With no attendant pomp—without bravado, with no disgusting exhibition of self-confidence—but with the lowliness, meekness, patience, and courage of a martyr, Huss sets out for the city where few will be found of spirit kindred to his own.

The reformer’s journey to Constance was quiet, orderly, and uninterrupted. His fame had preceded him, and all malice seemed lost in curiosity to see or hear the man of whom such stories lead been told. The simple earnestness of his speech, and the reasonableness of his views as he presented them, bespoke the favor of his auditors. The common people, and the humbler priests and curates, who had themselves suffered in some cases bitterly from the despotism and avarice of the higher ecclesiastics, would scarce find fault with a man who had really been fighting their battles, and was now suffering in their cause. There was, in fact, throughout the whole Christian world, a conviction of the need of reformation, but a conviction most deeply rooted in the minds of those whose sympathies would lead them to adopt for their leader some Piers Ploughman—someone of themselves, whose honest and straightforward speech spared neither princely arrogance nor prelatical corruption. In Huss they saw one whom the persecuting rage of the priests had forced into notoriety, but who, in stigmatizing their hypocrisy, arrogance, and avarice, had really shown himself the friend of the poor, humble, and oppressed. Throughout his journey he experienced only respect and kindness. Even when he had crossed the Bohemian frontier, and entered the German territory where he expected to meet the malice instigated by the expelled students, he was happily disappointed. He was greeted with favor instead of scorn.

From Nuremberg, which he had reached on the twentieth day of October, he writes back to his friends, giving an account of his journey up to that time. In his own characteristic language the reformer says, "Be it known to you, beloved brethren, that I have not found it necessary to travel once in incognito, since the day of my departure, but have ridden freely, and without disguise. I have traveled on horseback, and with my features exposed to public view. On my drawing near Bernau, I found the curé and his vicars waiting fur me; when I came up to them, he drank to my health in a cup of wine, and also, when we reached the inn, presented me with a large flagon of wine. He and his people gladly expressed their satisfaction with my opinions, and the good man called himself my old but unknown friend. I was afterwards joyfully received by all the Germans in Neustadt. As we traveled through Weiden, a very considerable crowd eyed us with the astonishment of admiration, and when we arrived at Sultzbach, we stopped at the house where the district session was that day held. The assembly being not yet dispersed, I thus addressed the consuls and notables of the town: "Behold, I am that John Huss of whom you have doubtless heard much evil. Here I am: ascertain the real state of the case by interrogating me yourselves." We conversed together for some time, and they approved of all I said. We next passed through Hersbruck, and spent the night in the town of Lauf, where the curé, a great jurist, and his vicars had come to see me, with whom I conversed, much to their satisfaction." Huss next proceeded to Nuremberg, the chief city of Franconia, where the independent spirit of the citizens, which has since been subdued in the lapse of centuries, then boldly defied the imperial fortress, and claimed the free exercise of municipal rights. Some merchants having ridden forward, and given notice that Huss was approaching the city, the people came thronging to the streets and public places looking eagerly for his coming. They gazed on the Bohemian escort as it passed by, anxiously inquiring which was John Huss. As soon as they discovered him, they surrounded and accompanied him to the inn, with many encouraging assurances that the council would not dare to injure him. During his repast, some priests were announced. He rose from the table to meet them, but finding that they wished for private conversation with him, Huss replied, "that he was unwilling to whisper his doctrines in the ears of only a few individuals, but would rather proclaim them on the housetop." "I speak only in public, and they who wish to hear me have only to listen." By means of placards on the doors of the churches, these men, and all who felt disposed to come, were invited to a religious conference, on the afternoon of the following day. A large number assembled. Besides the townspeople, the magistrates of the city were present. The discussion continued till evening. Among others, a Carthusian doctor presented himself, and displayed much subtlety in argument. But the popular voice was on the side of the reformer. When in the evening Huss concluded the defense of his opinions, the mayor, councilors, magistrates, and people overwhelmed him with clamors of applause. "At last they said to me," writes Huss, "Master, all that we have just heard is Catholic; we have taught those things for many, many years, looking on them as true; and such we consider them still. Undoubtedly you will return from this council with honor." "Learn," says Huss, "that I have not hitherto met with a single enemy, but that in every place where I have stopped I have been excellently received. In fact, the bitterest enemies I have are certain obscure persons from Bohemia. What more shall I say to you? The Lords Wenceslaus Duba and John Chlum act piously and nobly toward me. They are the heralds and advocates of the truth, and with them, God giving his aid, all passes most suitably."

From hospitable Nuremberg Huss traveled to Swabia, on the extreme border of which Constance was situated. Here, too, the courteous kindness and respect with which he was welcomed far surpassed his expectations. At Biberach, some fifty miles from Constance, he disputed with several priests, and other learned men, on the subject of obedience to the pope. The popular satisfaction with the result was such, that be was borne in triumph through the street. Such a reception, by those who were personally strangers to Huss, shows how ready was the soil of the popular mind for the seeds of reforming truth.

On the third of November the Bohemians arrived at Constance.

From every direction crowds were thronging to the famous council. Multitudes had already arrived, and more were on their way. The buildings of the city were insufficient to accommodate the immense concourse. Booths and wooden buildings were erected outside the walls, and thousands of pilgrims were encamped in the adjoining country. The whole neighborhood presented a curious and novel scene. All classes of society—laity as well as clergy; representatives of every nation, with their peculiarities of costume and manner; the soldier in his armor; the prince followed by his escort; the prelate in his robes; the magistrate with his symbols of authority; servants hastening on errands; thousands providing for the food and entertainment of those who had gathered to the council—all contributed to make the city of Constance a miniature Christendom. To consult the various tastes of the immense crowd of strangers, there were shows and amusements of all kinds, dramatic entertainments and representations of every description, varied with the solemn or gaudy pomp of religious proceedings. Van der Hardt has preserved, on the large folio pages of his "History of the Council," the pictured insignia of those who were in person, or by deputy, present during its sessions. Amid the infinite multiplicity and diversity of these coats of arms the mind is confused, and constrained to wonder at the scene within the walls of the Kaufhaus, where so many of them were blazoned or suspended about the walls. We have kings, popes, patriarchs, archbishops, bishops, princes, dukes, marquises, counts, barons, nobles, knights, ambassadors, cardinals, abbots, masters, each with original or ancestral contributions to the heraldry of Europe, with devices that seem to have exhausted the symbolisms of nature and of art. What then must have been the spectacle which the city of Constance presented, when all these dignitaries were gathered within its walls, and each vied with the other in the pomp and magnificence of his attendance and display! Who that walked these crowded streets, or gazed upon the princely robes, the rich and costly attire sparkling with jewels and shining with gold, the waving plumes, the burnished armor, the embroidered standards, the splendid equipage, the lengthened cavalcade, which, as they swept by, seemed to realize some vision of oriental fancy, who would have imagined that amid such scenes of worldly pomp and pageantry were to be sought decisions and counsels, inspired by the Holy Ghost—sentiments accordant with the doctrines of the Galilean fishermen, or sympathy for the evangelical simplicity of the Bohemian reformer!

But let us not forget that, beneath all this gaudy ostentation of wealth and power, there was present another element, not worldly perhaps, though unconsciously controlled by worldly influences, which deserves a momentary notice. Among those who could claim membership in this most ecumenical of all the councils, were men whom we would have been glad to have found in better company, and whose ability, taste, learning, or devotion, however mistaken, suffices, and more than suffices, for their lack of coronets or heraldric device.

Literature and science were not unworthily represented. By the side of the dignitaries of the church and empire stood several of those whom the afterworld honors as the living lights of their age. There in the service, but not in serfdom, to the pope, might be seen Poggio Bracciolini of Florence, one of the most illustrious scholars of his day, his sentiments liberal and manly, and himself possessed with a zeal for literature which was rewarded by the discovery, in the old monasteries, of lost manuscripts of the ancient classics, the writings of Quintilian, Lucretius, Cicero, and others. There, too, was Thierry de Niém, secretary to several popes, and whom Providence seems to have placed near the source of so many iniquities that by his pen they might be consecrated to historic infamy. With these must be recorded also Æneas Sylvius Piccolomini, afterward Pope Pius II, whose fame, as the wearer of the triple-crown, has been long since lost in the greater merit of his pen. There was also, eminent among the members of the council, Francis Zabarella, Cardinal of Florence, a man whose learning, virtues, and moderation secured the respect of all the members of the council, and whose funeral, not long after this, was attended in a most imposing manner by the emperor himself, as well as the highest dignitaries of church and state. The feebleness of the Eastern empire had no need to blush for its representative, when it sent in its behalf to Constance the learned Manuel Chrysoloras, a man whose worth was testified by the gratitude of his scholar Poggio, who erected a handsome monument to his memory. By the side of the epitaph that declares his virtues, were verses composed in his honor by Æneas Sylvius, and inscribed in letters of gold.

But among all who were members of the council of Constance, none occupied a more important position, or exerted greater influence upon the decisions of the body, than John Charlier Gerson, and Peter D’Ailly, Cardinal of Cambray, honored with the appellation of "The Eagle of France." Gerson, for a long time, might be regarded as the master-spirit of the council. As ambassador of Charles VI, king of France, and chancellor of the church and university of Paris, his position was one to give force and effect to his word, and it is not too much to say that he was fully equal to his station. To a character above reproach, and a zeal which rose superior to every obstacle and rejected every seducing influence, he joined a degree of ability for thought, speech, and action which made him facile princeps, the foremost man among the foremost men of the council. More than perhaps any other member, he had a well and clearly-devised scheme of his own, a philosophy of ecclesiasticism, which was the product of years of careful and observing thought. Better, perhaps, than any other member, he understood the attitude and relations of the figures on the chessboard of Christendom, and knew the moves to be made to win the game for the church.

For the most part, the Cardinal of Cambray, although raised by John XXIII to the honors of the purple, occupied an independent position, and was found generally by the side of Gerson. Revered by the latter as his former master, teacher and pupil were now united in common views and common efforts. Both had learned in the university of Paris some lessons in regard to the circumstances and corruption of the church which were not yet lost upon them, and both were men whose fearless integrity rose above the allurements of greatness or the frowns of power.

The universities of Paris, Cologne, Vienna, Heidelberg, Prague, Orleans, Erfurt, Avignon, Bologna, Cracow, and Oxford were represented at the council. Several independent states and cities sent deputies or ambassadors.

Thus were assembled at Constance, in obedience to the summons of pope and emperor, the component parts of a so-called Christian council, into whose hands were given in trust the suffering interests of Christendom. In the sequel we shall see the results accomplished, such as might be expected of a body of men drawn together by the most diverse and discordant motives, each of them for the most part impelled by an ambition of his own. The thoughtful observer turns his eye away from all the pageantry and pomp that allure the senses, to the humble dwelling of a poor widow, whom Huss compares to her of Sarepta, who received Elijah. In her house the Bohemian reformer found a welcome refuge, if not a secure asylum.  

The next morning after the arrival of Huss at Constance, the two noblemen who had accompanied him, John of Chlum and Wenzel of Duba, visited the pope to notify him of the fact. They informed him that Huss had come, provided with a safe-conduct from the emperor, and begged to know, without reserve, whether he might remain in Constance free from the risk of violence. The pope’s answer seemed frank and cordial. "Had he killed my own brother," said John XXIII, thanking the knights for this mark of deference, "not a hair of his head should be touched while he remained in the city."

No doubt the pope was sincere in his declaration. He did not wish to offend the Bohemian knights. It was his interest rather to secure their favor. It is impossible, from his known character, to suppose that he felt in the least concerned for the fate of Huss, so long as he could be left unmolested himself. The time had not yet come when it was his policy, by an affected zeal for orthodoxy, to avert from his own head the indignation his crimes merited, and concentrate it upon Huss.

During the first few weeks of his residence in Constance, Huss enjoyed a tolerable share of liberty. His sentence of excommunication was suspended, not from any regard for himself personally, but that the city might not be subject to interdict on his account. He was enjoined, however, not to be present at public mass, and to avoid giving any occasion for scandal. At his own lodgings he was left unmolested. Here he conversed with large numbers of persons who came to visit him, vindicating his innocence, and defending his doctrines by word and pen. Each day he celebrated mass in his chamber, in the presence of many who assembled from the neighborhood. The bishop of Constance is said to have sent his vicar to prohibit the continuance of the practice, and to represent to him that, as excommunicate, it was not permissible for him to discharge the sacred offices of priest. To this we are told that Huss replied in a somewhat defiant tone, declaring that he paid no heed to the excommunication. But the story rests on doubtful authority, and does not accord with the prudent and conciliatory tone which Huss assumed from his first arrival in the city.

His attention was especially directed towards making preparation fur the public audience before the council, in the confidence of which he had set out for Constance. With this object in view he prepared two discourses, which he wished to deliver, and which have been preserved to us in his works. The first of these is substantially a confession of his faith. He declares his assent to the Apostolic creed, protesting that he has never intentionally advanced or defended anything opposed to any article of faith. The Holy Scriptures are, in his judgment, the true rule of doctrinal belief, and sufficient for salvation. He would not exclude recognition of the sentences of the doctors who have faithfully expounded scripture, and he professes his veneration for general and provincial councils, decretals, laws, canons, and constitutions, so far as they are conformed to the word of God. Faith is the foundation of all the virtues which are essential to the service of God. It must precede the confession of the lips and active obedience. Every man is of necessity a disciple of God or of the devil. The rudiments, the alphabet, of either school is faith or infidelity. He holds, moreover, as he had taught in Bethlehem chapel, that we are not to put faith in the virgin, the saints, the church, or the pope, but in God alone. The highest form of faith is that which is due to Holy Scripture as the primitive standard of truth. A Christian faith necessitates a life of obedience, and hence a person in mortal sin is only a Christian in name, and cannot recite the creed without lying.

On the subject of the church, he presents the same view which he had put forth in his treatise two years previous, but dwells more particularly on the doctrine of the "sleeping church." He admits that souls in purgatory may be benefited by the intercession of the living, and prays Christ to forgive those who had said or insinuated that he denied the intercession of saints. He takes pains to express his regard for the Virgin Mary as our advocate, mediatress, and in some sort, the cause of the incarnation, passion, and resurrection of Christ, and consequently of our salvation.

The second sermon of Huss is on the subject of the peace and union of the church. Here he often employs language taken from the writings of Jerome, Bernard, Gregory, and others. The tone of the discourse is less pungent and severe than that of many which were subsequently delivered in the presence of the council. But Huss was not to be allowed to preach. His Bohemian enemies had followed him to Constance, resolved upon his ruin. The principal ones among them were, of course, Stephen Paletz, Michael de Causis, and Andrew Broda, but besides, there were also Nason, Beuesch, Nicholas of Podwein, Nicholas, priest of the Vissehrad, John Stokes the Englishman, and some twelve others. Stanislaus was on the way to join them, when he was struck down by the pestilence and died at Neuhaus.

His enemies had no sooner reached the city, than they nailed placards in all public places, denouncing Huss as a heretic and as excommunicate. Spies were set upon his track, to note his conduct and report his words. His enemies had the largest liberty to vaunt their malignant calumnies, while he was confined almost entirely to his lodgings. They approached the pope and cardinals, and employed all their arts to increase the prejudice against Huss. They bore it ill that the limited measure of freedom which he enjoyed should be extended to him, and they felt that the first step necessary to the success of their designs was to secure his arrest. His course in conversing with those who came to visit him gave them occasion for representing to the cardinals the danger of leaving him any longer at liberty.

The spirit of his persecutors was bitter and unrelenting, as well as unscrupulous. Paletz and Michael de Causis were the most active. As to the latter, he was a fit tool for a conspiracy deigned to injure and betray the innocent. He had formerly been curate of the parish church of St. Adelbert, in Prague. He had acquired, moreover, an unenviable character for unscrupulous and greedy avarice. Abandoning his clerical duties, he gave himself up to the pursuits of a fraudful speculation. It was not long before he found his way to court, and became a boon companion of the reckless and drunken king. Abetting, like a true parasite, the schemes of Wenzel, he waited only the fitting moment to abuse and betray the confidence he had gained. Under pretense of advancing a certain royal project for mining, which promised to replenish the coffers of the king, he received for the purpose a large sum of money in advance, with which he absconded in the night. But with money at command, he knew where his crimes would be found venial. He offered his services to the papal court, and John XXIII could scarcely boast of a more subtle knave or a more serviceable tool. His special business now was one in which his heart, so far as he had any, was enlisted; it was to secure the condemnation of Huss. As a select member of the papal suite, he had the task assigned him of endeavoring to crush a man who had been once his neighbor, and toward whom, beyond question, while at the court of Wenzel, he had professed a warm friendship and respect.

Paletz, Broda, and Stokes, if not more respectable, were at least less infamous. But all of them had been engaged in controversy with Huss, and the bitterness of their zeal was aggravated by unpleasant memories. They had felt the blows of the reformer’s logic, and had not escaped from the conflict with the prestige of success. Paletz no doubt charged his banishment from Prague to the account of Huss.

Of the other conspirators we have less knowledge. But it throws some light upon their character that they could affiliate with such a villain as Michael de Causis. All, or nearly all of them, had their grievances to avenge. They had pursued Huss at Prague with such means as they could command, and now they had followed him to Constance resolved that he should not escape.

The measures which they adopted proved successful. The cardinals were persuaded to summon Huss before them. Indeed, in the circumstances, it would have been difficult for them to refuse. They were pressed with complaints against Huss, and their attention was drawn to his writings by the studious efforts of his enemies. By the latter they were followed from place to place, visited in their dwellings, and besought to consent to active measures of prosecution. The articles of accusation against him—some of them utterly false—were drawn up with a malicious diligence, and the substance of them repeated wherever it was possible to excite prejudice.

Nor was this all. It was a sore grievance to the enemies of Huss that he should be allowed intercourse with those who thronged to visit him at his lodgings. Attempts were made to induce him to desist from the observance of religious services to which citizens were admitted. The limited privilege of access to the minds of other, which he had at first enjoyed, was to be denied him. He had already, at the instance of the bishop of Constance, consented to remain as private as possible, so as not to afford occasion of scandal. But, for still greater security, it was necessary to operate on the minds of the people and induce them to refrain from visiting him. This project the bishop of Lubeck undertook to execute, partly in person and partly by emissaries. The report was studiously disseminated that Huss, as an extraordinary magician, could read the thoughts of all who approached him within a certain distance, and that he was, in particular, an adept in discerning all that might pass in the minds of those who should attend his sermons, not infrequently making his discoveries publicly known. To such arts did his enemies resort to prevent his access to the minds of others. Even this was only preparatory to the more decisive measure of his arrest, upon which his enemies were resolved.

Meanwhile some progress had been made in the affairs of the council. It leas doubtless far from disagreeable to the pope to find himself at Constance so much more promptly than the emperor. It afforded him a favorable opportunity to shape the opening sessions of the council in his own favor. He wished to have it regarded as the continuation, or at least the authorized successor of that of Pisa, to the legitimacy and validity of which he appealed to sustain his own claims as the rightful and sole pontiff. The prolonged absence of the emperor relieved him of one obstacle to the accomplishment of his designs.

The first day of November, 1414, had been fixed for the opening of the council, by the appointment of the emperor and the bull of convocation. By the advice of the cardinals, the pope contented himself with celebrating mass, and adjourning the opening of the council to the third of the month. The announcement made by Zabarella in the pope’s name was skillfully worded. "Pope John XXIII resolved at Lodi to celebrate at Constance a general council in continuation of that of Pisa, and the opening session will take place on the third of November." The inference was plain. The legitimate tenure of his office by John XXIII, to the exclusion of his rival, was thus coolly assumed.

On the next day six additional cardinals arrived, and were received with great show and pomp. Twelve Auditores Rotæ, or judges of the papal court, were appointed, and were conducted by escort to St. Stephen’s church, which had been fitted up for the purpose. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of each week were set apart by them to hear ecclesiastical causes.

The third of November arrived, but the opening session was deferred to the fifth. The pope was now ready to proceed. Fifteen cardinals, two patriarchs, twenty-three archbishops, and a large number of prelates were present. At the early hour of seven o’clock in the morning, a congregation was held, to complete all the necessary arrangements. When this was done, all the bells of the city were rung to announce the fact. The procession, swelled by all the clergy in the city, and accompanied by an immense crowd that pressed upon it, moved to the cathedral church. The religious rites usual at the opening of a council were observed, and a sermon was preached by a Benedictine doctor. The next session was appointed for the sixteenth of the month.

Before it arrived, the numbers of the council were largely increased. On the ninth, five cardinals and a large number of bishops and of the nobility arrived, and the pope received the welcome intelligence that his forces had recovered full possession of Rome. The following day was consequently appointed and observed as a day of thanksgiving for the favorable event. In the midst of its solemnities, the patriarch of Constantinople and the grand master of Rhodes entered the city.

Already busy hands were working the wires of ecclesiastical intrigue. Behind the scenes there were plotting and counter-plotting, bargain and sale, logrolling and bribery, the details of which no history could record. But amid a crowd of competitors, the pontifical schemer was facile princeps. If we may believe Thierry de Niem—and no man had better opportunities than himself for observation—the pope wove the net of his intrigue around the council, and, in his palace, the center of it, watched every thread, and eyed, by means of his partisans, every victim. He surrounded himself with the old associates and "hucksters" of his simony. His court was crowded with them. By their instrumentality, and that of bishops and prominent members of the council bought over to his interest by promised favors, or secured by those arts of which he was a consummate master, he acquired early intelligence of every project, and the means of thwarting it or converting it to his own interest. Every party had its traitors on whom he could rely, and no measure was discussed or agitated so secretly that he did not hear of it before he closed his eyes to slumber. The great majority of the Italians stood blindly committed in his favor.

From day to day congregations were held, at which the policy of the council, and the measures to be taken, were earnestly and sometimes angrily discussed. The great problem of the schism was the one upon the solution of which all minds were intent. At the congregation held November 12th, the pope chanced to be absent. In the exercise of the freedom which his absence permitted, an important paper was read, which, after detailing the steps to be taken for the more full organization of the council, and the proper officers to be appointed, closed with declaring that the union of the church must precede measures for its reformation; that no effort should be spared to unite the church under John XXIII; that the voluntary cession of the contestants was desirable, but in case of their refusal, they were to be constrained and treated as enemies and destroyers of the church, in spite of the language of their flatterers, who claimed that a pope was under no obligation to obey the decrees of a general council.

The first part of this document contained a recognition of the authority of the council of Pisa, and was doubtless agreeable to John XXIII, but the latter part was less to his taste, and none ventured to present it to him. In the following congregation, November 15, it was not even noticed. But the pope must soon have had full information in regard to it, and, dissembling his dissatisfaction, must have found it necessary to parry a blow which, aimed ostensibly at others, might yet fall with crushing weight on his own head. He did attempt to parry it, and, as we shall see, the foil he used was the heresy of Huss.

Due provision having been made, the session of the sixteenth of the month was held. John XXIII presided. The cardinal Jordan de Usurnis celebrated mass, and the pontiff delivered a discourse from Zechariah 8:16—"Speak ye every man the truth to his neighbor; execute the judgment of truth and peace in your gates." It is easier to conceive than describe the feelings with which men like Nein must have listened to words in which the pope uttered his own sentence, and heightened, by the contrast of his eulogy on justice, the hue of his own crimes. He exhorted all to carefully consider and heartily communicate whatever could tend to the peace and purity of the church. There were some in the council who were prepared most ungraciously to accept his invitation.

The pope closed his discourse, and Zabarella, taking his stand near the pontiff, read in a loud voice the preamble of the bull of convocation, in which the favorite idea of the pope, claiming the council of Constance as successor to that of Pisa, was again presented. The reading of the bull itself was completed by an apostolic secretary, when the cardinal resumed, addressing the council in behalf of the pope, setting forth, in substance, that having issued his summons for the council, the pope had now, at the time appointed, come with his cardinals to Constance, fully resolved to employ all his means and influence to promote the peace and reformation of the church; and, in order to the prosecution of so holy a work, in which none should presume on his own wisdom, he ordains that, during the continuance of the council, solemn mass should be celebrated every Thursday in all the churches, cathedral and collegiate, secular and regular, of the city; and, to engage all devoutly to assist, he grants forty days’ indulgence to all who shall be present, and to priests, with whom he includes all the higher clergy, who are exhorted to celebrate mass, a year’s indulgence. All Christians are exhorted to obtain from heaven, by prayer, fasting, alms, and other good works, a happy issue for the council. It was added, that as the principal object in view is the maintenance of the Catholic faith, according to the ancient councils, all who are versed in the writings that concern them, are bound, individually and collectively, to consider well what may contribute to this end, while attention is especially to be directed to errors that for some time past have been reported to have widely spread in certain portions of the world, and preeminently to those which were originated by Wickliffe.

To all, the pope assured the largest liberty in setting forth their views. For preserving the order of the council, he cited and commended the canon of the council of Toledo, which enjoined the duty of speaking discreetly and to the point; to abstain from. noise or tumult; not to laugh or jeer; not to contend, or conduct with passion or obstinacy, under pain of expulsion and excommunication for the space of three days. This canon, as we shall have occasion to see hereafter, would not have been a bad one to have observed. The reputation of the council would have been better for it.

The names of those nominated as officers of the council were also submitted and approved. Berthold de Ursinis was designated palatine and guard of the council, and to him the protection and security of the body were committed. Notaries, secretaries, and auditors were appointed, and the nominations were unanimously confirmed. The session closed with the announcement that the council would again meet on the seventeenth of the following month.

Up to this time John XXIII had met with few obstacles in the prosecution of his plans. His time had been carefully improved in strengthening his party, and increasing the number of his adherents. Upon the Italians he could count almost to a man, and the large number of them who were present assured him a powerful minority, if not even a majority in point of numbers. To the Bohemians he had shown himself friendly up to the last moment, but the announcement made in the last session, of the duty of the council to pay special heed to the heresies that had sprung from Wickliffe, foreshadowed the policy which the pope was forced to adopt by the circumstances in which he was placed.

For him, indeed, no subject could have been more welcome than the heresy charged on Huss. In the earnest prosecution of this, he might depend on the support of the large number who identified the views of the Bohemian reformer with those of Wickliffe. So secure did he feel in his own position, that he ventured, on the third day after the session (November 19th), to have the insignia of his rivals, Benedict and Gregory, which their ambassador who had just arrived had set up, torn down from over the doors of their lodgings. The act of violence was perpetrated in the darkness of night—no one could doubt by whose instigation—but when complained of to the council, the opinions of members were so diverse that no action could be taken. It was for John XXIII a very opportune measure to divert attention from himself to the heresy of Huss. It gratified the enemies of the latter, and secured for the former that reputation of zeal for the purity of faith which was so necessary as a cloak to his enormities. His recommendations bore speedy fruit. The prosecutors of Huss were encouraged to a more bold and open assault upon him.

On the 28th of November a meeting of cardinals was held in the episcopal palace, to take the case of Huss into consideration. He was cited to present himself before them. Two bishops, accompanied by the mayor of the city, and a knight, bore the citation. They found Huss at his lodgings, where he was quietly dividing his time between study and familiar conversation with his friends. They informed him of their errand, stating that they had been sent by the pope and cardinals to request him, in accordance with his expressed desire to give account of his doctrines, to appear before them.

"I did not come here," calmly replied Huss, "with the intention of pleading my cause before the pope and the cardinals, and I never desired any such thing; but I wished to appear before the general council, in the presence of all, and there, openly and plainly, reply, on every point proposed to me, according as God shall inspire me for my defense. Yet I do not refuse to appear previously before the cardinals; and, if they act unfairly toward me, I shall put my trust in the Saviour Jesus Christ, and shall be more happy to die for his glory than live to deny the truth as taught in the Holy Scriptures."

The bearers of the citation conducted themselves toward Huss with gentleness and respect. They had, however, taken the precaution to station bands of soldiers in the neighborhood before presenting the citation, so that resistance, had it been offered, would have been vain. Huss, unsuspicious of the fact, complied readily with the summons. On the lower floor he was met by the mistress of the house, Fida by name, who took leave of him with tears. Struck with a presentiment of death, and deeply moved, he bestowed on her his blessing. He then mounted his horse, and, attended by his noble friend John de Chlum, followed the bishops to the episcopal palace.

The cardinals were already assembled, but it is doubtful whether John XXIII was present. It was but little more than a week since Cardinal D’Ailly had arrived, and he now, for the first time, met the much defamed Bohemian reformer. So far as severity of language in reprobation of ecclesiastical abuse was concerned, both were equally implicated. The former Bishop of Cambray, now a cardinal, had exhibited as little reverence for papal authority as Huss himself. The two men now stood face to face, and there is reason to believe that the first impression made upon the cardinal by the bearing and language of Huss was far from unfavorable.

Huss saluted the cardinals, and by them was addressed as follows: "Master John Huss, we have heard many things of you, which, if true, cannot be tolerated. Public fame accuses you of having disseminated in Bohemia errors of the gravest kind, and such as are manifestly opposed to the Catholic church. We have summoned you here before us, to learn the truth of the case." "Be assured, I beg of you, reverend fathers," replied Huss, "that I would much rather die than be convicted of any heresy, much more of many, and those of the gravest kind, as you express it. And to this end have I cheerfully come to this council, giving my word that if anyone can convince me of any error, I will unhesitatingly abjure it."

"It is well spoken," said the cardinals, as they closed their morning session, and withdrew, leaving Huss, with his friend Chlum, in custody. But they had given to his words a meaning which they were never intended to convey. Huss wished to be convinced by reason and scripture. He would not blindly bow to the authority of the pope, cardinals, or council.

During the interval between the morning and afternoon sessions, a monk of the order of Minorite friars approached to converse with Huss. His object was not at first suspected, but when his character and standing were afterwards known, it was suspected that he was a tool of the cardinals, and had been sent by them to entrap Huss while off his guard. In a friendly tone, and with an appearance of ingenuous inquiry, he accosted the prisoner; with insinuating art he assumed the appearance of a simple-minded and ignorant man, anxious to gain instruction. "I have heard," said he, "that many opinions have been attributed to you which are opposed to the Catholic faith, and these things have excited scruples in my mind. In the first place, they accuse you of believing that only bread remains in the sacrament of the alter, after consecration and the pronunciation of the sacramental words." Huss replied, promptly and directly, that the charge was false. "What!" said the monk, "is not that your belief?" "By no means," replied Huss. The monk was disposed to insist yet further, when Chlum, suspecting his purpose, interrupted him, and rebuked him fur his impertinence. Excusing himself on the ground of his ignorance and his desire for information, the monk changed the subject. "What do you think," said he, "of the union of the human and divine nature in the person of Jesus Christ?" On this, Huss turned himself to Chlum, and said, in Bohemian, "This fellow, be sure, is not so ignorant as he pretends, for he has proposed to me a must difficult question." Then addressing the monk, he replied, "My brother, you say that you are simple-minded, but by your subtle question I perceive that you are double-minded, and that, under a plain appearance, you conceal a most shrewd and penetrating mind. But whatever you may be, know that this union is personal, inseparable, and entirely supernatural." On this the monk withdrew, thanking Huss for his good instructions. Huss afterward learned from one of the soldiers that this pretended monk was Didacus, one, of the most able theologians of Lombardy. He expressed his regret that he had not known it at the time, that he might have improved the opportunity fur a more full and extended conversation. "Would to God," said he, "that all my adversaries resembled him, and fortified by the succor of the scriptures, I should not fear one of them."

Huss and Chlum remained in custody until the reassembling of the cardinals at four o’clock in the afternoon. They met as before in the pope’s chamber. The question now before them was what should be done with Huss. His enemies, Paletz and Causis, were present, employing all their influence to secure his imprisonment. They urged and insisted that he should not be set at liberty. It is altogether probable that the eight articles of accusation which they had elaborately drawn up, were presented on this occasion. These were to the effect that Huss rejected the doctrine of transubstantiation; that a priest in mortal sin cannot administer the sacraments; that by the church is not to be understood the pope, clergy, or members of the hierarchy, and that its endowment by secular princes is unwise; that all priests are equal, and it is false that bishops alone have the right to consecrate and ordain; that the entire church has no power of the keys, when the whole clergy is in gross sin; and that Huss had contemned his excommunication, having read mass every day on his journey to Constance.

This document had been penned by Causis, and he did not fail, after presenting it, to add other aggravations of the guilt of Huss. He accused him of having been the author of the troubles in the university; of having been the only one there who held the errors of Wickliffe; of having inflamed the laity against the clergy; and of having gathered to himself a body of adherents who were heretical, and enemies of the Roman church. Hence he inferred that if Huss should escape the severity of the council, he would do more harm than any heretic had done since the days of Constantine; and he therefore supplicated the pope to appoint without delay a commission to examine him, and doctors who should make a careful review of his writing.

It is uncertain whether these accusations and the petition were presented on this occasion, or within a day or two subsequent. However this may be, the cardinals decided that Huss should be kept under arrest. As night approached, the provost of the pontifical palace informed John de Chlum that he was at liberty, but that Huss must remain in custody. The noble knight felt his sense of justice outraged by the announcement of a measure in his view so base and perfidious. Fired to indignation, he complained most bitterly that a worthy and upright man had been lured by false representations into an infamous snare. It was only adding outrage to injustice, when his persecutors, as they passed and repassed Huss, insultingly cried out, "Behold, we have possession of thee; and thou shalt not escape till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing."

Chlum hastened to the pope to inform him of what had taken place, and to remonstrate with him on the violation of his promise. He exhorted him not so unworthily to disregard his plighted faith. John XXIII declared that be had done nothing against Huss, and, pointing to the cardinal. and bishops, exclaimed, "Why do you impute anything to me, when you well know that I am myself here in their power?"

There might have been some weight in this exculpation, if the pope had shown any disposition, then or subsequently, to befriend Huss. But it was too obvious that he was merely the creature of circumstance, and the slave of his own interest. Huss was personally to him an object of supreme indifference, but if he could divert the attention of the council from himself to the business of investigating heresy, he would gain an important object. So far, he saw no reason to interfere with the measures of the cardinals. He in fact acceded to the petition of the prosecutors, and appointed a commission of three—the Patriarch of Constantinople, the Bishop of Lubeck, and the Bishop of Tiefern—who were to hear the witnesses against Huss as well as in his defense, and report to the council.

Huss was given over to the charge of the Bishop of Constance, and remained eight days with the Canon of the cathedral. He was taken thence (December 6, 1414) to the prison of the Dominican monastery on the banks of the Rhine. His enemies could scarcely have selected a place of confinement more nauseous or unhealthy. The monastery was situated near the spot where the Rhine issues from the lake of Constance. Here he was thrown into an underground apartment, through which every sort of impurity was discharged into the lake. This place at least—more removed from the noise and excitement of the city—might be regarded as sufficiently secure. Huss was left in the custody of the friars.

The noxious stench and effluvia of the place were not long in producing their effect upon the health of the prisoner. In a few hours Huss was thrown into a violent fever, which threatened his life. The aggravated injustice of his arrest and imprisonment undoubtedly contributed to that mental excitement which would exasperate the disease. What must Huss, conscious of his innocence, have thought, in the solitude and suffering of his prison, of the Christianity, the justice, or humanity of men, who illustrated their orthodoxy by such harsh treatment and barbarous treachery as that to which he was now made a victim?

Meanwhile John de Chlum had not relaxed his efforts in the prisoner’s behalf. The pope had referred him to the cardinals as the authors of the arrest. He proceeded, therefore, successively to visit the four cardinals who represented respectively the German, English, French, and Italian nations. But they received his application with cold indifference. He urged in behalf of Huss the imperial safe-conduct; but the first told him that the safe-conduct derived its authority, in the first instance, from the council itself, who could accept or reject secular documents of a similar nature at their option. The second declared that no faith need be kept with heretics. Shame on the Englishman, whose native good sense told him, even in his bigotry, that he had hit upon the only principle that could afford even a specious justification of the treatment of Huss. The French and Italian cardinals, informed of Chlum’s visit, and aware of his errand, closed their doors upon him, and paid him no attention.

Stung to deeper indignation by such unmanly and ungenerous treatment, Chlum rushed out among the people who were gathered about the papal palace, out of sympathy, as he supposed, for the prisoner. How great was his disappointment! The enemies of Huss had subsidized the dregs of the mob in their cause. The priests had dispersed their creatures in all directions to spread the report that Huss had no safe-conduct, but was, in fact, an outlaw. The rumors thus artfully spread, took effect. The rude populace were swayed by the influence, and probably by the gold, of their superiors. With less reserve than they, and with a kindred taste, they took delight in insulting defenseless misery. From one to another the disgraceful falsehoods about Huss were circulated. In vain did Chlum appeal to them for sympathy. Where he was not met by a cold indifference, he was forced to submit to the taunts and threats of the hostile multitude. "A madman and coward, like Huss," they said, " was quite unworthy of such warm sympathy and friendship."

Already it was growing late. The streets were deserted, and the lights extinguished. The faithful and noble knight, overpowered with grief and fatigue, retired to rest. If his eyes closed that night to slumber, it must have been to a slumber disturbed by sad and troubled dreams. But, whatever the meditations of his restless hours, we may at least be sure that they were worthy of an heroic friendship.

Undismayed even by the cold repulses and the abuse to which he had been subjected, Chlum was still resolved to procure the release of Huss. He bethought himself now, as a last resort, to appeal to the emperor himself, whose authority had been trampled on by the violation of his safe-conduct.

In this purpose he may have been encouraged by the timely arrival in Constance of his countryman, Henry de Latzembock, who, with himself and Duba, had been appointed by Wenzel to look after the safety of Huss. Latzembock had been for some time in the suite of the emperor, had accompanied him to Aix-la-Chapelle, and had been present at his coronation at that place on the eighth day of the month. After procuring the safe-conduct of Huss at Spires, and forwarding it to Nuremberg, he continued near the emperor, by whom he was treated with high consideration. After the ceremony of coronation had taken place, he was dispatched with letters to the pope at Constance announcing the fact. With these in hand, be arrived in the city on the very day of the arrest of Huss. "With what emotions," exclaims a Roman Catholic historian, "must he have seen, if not the chains, at least the imprisonment of Huss!" Undoubtedly he would, in his surprise, share the indignation of his compatriot Chlum, and it is not impossible that the purpose of the latter to apply to the emperor was taken by the advice of Latzembock, or in conference with him.

The very next morning Chlum wrote to the emperor, asking for redress. He detailed the circumstances of the arrest and imprisonment, and entreated him to interfere that justice might be done. To leave no means untried which might contribute to his success, he wrote also a similar dispatch to Bohemia. From day to day, as he traversed the streets of the city, he did not fail to exhibit, as opportunity offered, the large sealed parchment which contained the imperial safe-conduct.

This document read as follows: "Sigismund, by the grace of God, King of the Romans, etc.: To all princes, ecclesiastical and lay, and all our other subjects, greeting. Of our full affection, we recommend to all in general, and to each individually, the honorable man, Master John Huss, bachelor in theology and master of arts, the bearer of these presents, going from Bohemia to the council of Constants, whom we have taken under our protection and safeguard, and under that of the empire, requesting, when he arrives among you, that you will receive him kindly and treat him favorably, furnishing him whatever shall be necessary to promote and secure his journey, whether by water or by land, without taking any thing from him or his, at his entrance or his departure, on any claim whatever; but let him freely and securely pass, sojourn, stop, and return; providing him, if necessary, with good passports, to the honor and respect of the imperial majesty. Given at Spires, October 18, 1414."

We can imagine something of the patriotic indignation with which Chlum must have exhibited the imperial seal attached to this important document. To blazon abroad more widely the injustice done to Huss he affixed to the doors of the cathedral and council-house a placard, signed with his own name, in which he stated that an act of unheard-of tyranny had been committed against Professor Huss, that the imperial safe-conduct had been contemned, and that the emperor and the empire would never submit to the insult that had thus been offered to their authority.

The letter of Chlum to the emperor was doubtless dispatched by him on the first or second day after the arrest of Huss. Latzembock was the bearer of it, doubtless, and with it he also bore another from the pope to the emperor, scarcely less significant. This last was in reply to one from the emperor to John XXIII, which bore date November 9th, the day after the coronation, and which was full of expressions of affection and filial submission. The pope, in his respouse, did not fail to reciprocate all these terms of endearment. He congratulated the emperor on his coronation, and besought him to make all diligence to be present at the council, inasmuch as nothing important could be done in his absence.

Such was the character of this curious imperio-pontifical correspondence, which was but the prelude to a conflict of intrigue as embittered as if it had been waged in mortal strife. But the two men knew each other. John XXIII saw at a glance the respectful and deferential hypocrisy of the emperor, and was not to be outdone in an art in which he was himself an adept. He declared that the emperor’s sincere affection for himself and for the holy church afforded him great pleasure, so much so that he thanks the Almighty for it, and receives the glad intelligence of the fortunate commencement of his reign, as an omen of that future success which he will implore of the Lord, to the praise of the divine name, the peace of the church, the strengthening of the Roman empire, and the immortal glory of his imperial majesty. He expresses his zeal to patronize the emperor, "exalting and cherishing so worthy a son, and such an invincible athlete of the Christian faith."

Such was the pope’s letter of December 1st, 1414. It was written two days after the arrest of Huss, yet never refers to it in a single line. Who would imagine, from such a correspondence, the clashing and conflicting interests of the two men? Who would imagine that every line was dictated by hypocrisy, and that the two correspondents were full of mutual distrust and hatred ?

But the mask, so well worn at first, was now to be rudely torn off. The letters of the pope and of John de Chlum, borne probably by the same messenger, Latzembock, reached the emperor at the same moment. He was not slow to comment on the significance of each. If Latzembock was the bearer of both epistles, as he doubtless was, he would not fail to express his own sense of the outrage offered to the imperial authority by the arrest of Huss. Under the impulse of the moment, and moved at least by his own self-respect, if not his own unextinguished sense of justice or the generosity of his nature, Sigismund determined to rebuke the insult offered to his authority. The result, at least, was another letter in this singular correspondence, in a tone altogether different from that which had been hitherto employed. The pontiff and his court had presumed to contemn the imperial authority, and Sigismund was not as yet versed in that peculiar casuistry by which the doctors of the council afterward succeeded in reconciling him to the violation of his plighted faith. In very plain and unequivocal language he now gave vent to his indignation. He sent his ambassadors forward without delay to Constance, sharply insisting on the immediate release of Huss from his unjust imprisonment. Prompt measures were to be taken, and violence employed if necessary, to secure obedience to the imperial mandate.

Meanwhile Huss had been removed from his foul cell in the Dominican monastery to cleaner and more healthy apartments above-ground. Upon this removal the physicians, with at least professional humanity, had boldly insisted. It is said that the pope, fearful lest Huss should die in prison and the cause of orthodoxy lose the incense of a burning heretic, had directed his own physician to attend the prisoner. However this may be, the health of Huss began immediately to improve.

The commission who had been appointed to hear his accusers and his own defense, did not delay their proceedings on account of the sickness of Huss. They visited him in prison, while yet enfeebled by disease, and presented him with the list of the charges that had been drawn up against him. Huss asked that an advocate might be appointed him to defend his cause, inasmuch as by sickness and imprisonment he was not able to do it himself. The request was denied. He was told that according to canon law, no one could be allowed to take the part or plead the cause of a man suspected of heresy. One of the later Roman Catholic historians of these events undertakes to vindicate the justice of this canon.

But this was not the only hardship of which Huss had to complain. The same authority which denied him an advocate, admitted all kinds of evidence against him as a heretic. His enemies—and there were not a few who were glad of such an opportunity to offer their volunteer testimony—were thus invited to become his accusers. In his letters Huss complains that every day some new accusation against him was devised, composed of items false and captious, so that he could scarcely find time to answer them. The vexations to which he was subjected by the members of the commission, the insults offered by Paletz and Causis as well as other ecclesiastics, and the artifices and intrigues that were employed to prevent his having a hearing before the council, were enough to drive him to despondency. But in spite of all, his trust in God and the justice of his cause remained unshaken, and the writings which issued from his prison cell attest his incessant activity.

Another commission was appointed by the pope, probably in accordance with the request of his prosecutors, to examine his writings. It consisted of the Cardinals D’Ailly, St. Mark, Brancas, and Florence, two generals of orders, and six doctors of theology. These were busy at their task, while the other commission was gathering up testimony from witnesses whom Huss had no opportunity to confront, and whose names even were studiously concealed.

It was after the commissioners had begun their work, that the mandate of the emperor requiring the immediate release of Huss reached Constance. The instructions of the ambassadors were sufficiently explicit. John XXIII, after his flight from Constance, urges, among other reasons in justification of his course, the peremptory command of the emperor for the release of Huss, directing that in case of resistance his prison doors should be broken down and he set at liberty. This the pope resented as an interference with his prerogative and the duty of the council. He maintains that Huss had been arrested by his authority, and that the emperor had interfered with the due course of justice in ordering the enlargement of the prisoner.

It is evident, therefore, that the imperial mandate was received, and that its import was understood. But it was not an easy thing to carry it into execution in the absence of the emperor. On this question—however they might differ on other points—the pope and the cardinals, as well as the leading members of the council, were fully agreed. Against their united opposition nothing could be done. Nor does it appear that the imperial ambassadors knew where Huss was confined. This at least is certain, that the command of the emperor was not obeyed. Instead of being released, Huss was more closely confined. His removal to the Dominican monastery preceded but by a few days the arrival of the ambassadors, and may have been effected in anticipation of it. But he was now beyond the reach of the imperial officers, and they were forced to await the coming of the emperor before any decisive steps could be taken.

There were, indeed, some powerful motives which forbade the obedience of the pontiff to the emperor’s command. It was his interest to have questions of heresy precede any investigation of the question of the schism. It was something gained, meanwhile, to accustom men to witness the exercise of his own authority, and the bold assumption of his prerogative. In this matter, moreover, he was confident of powerful support. The cardinals and all the enemies of Huss were ranged upon his side.

In such circumstances John XXIII seemed not unwilling that the papal and imperial authority should come into open conflict. He felt sure of a triumph. It was not a little gained, if, while the scepter trembled in his hand, and Christendom owned a divided allegiance, he might openly and with impunity venture to trample on the imperial mandate. 

There were several important questions which at this juncture claimed the attention of the council, and, divided with the subject of heresy, the anxiety and attention of the pope. One of these concerned the membership of the council; another was the manner in which the votes should he taken; and still another was the plan to be adopted to promote the union of the church.

Upon the decision of either of these the fate of John XXIII, as pontiff, might depend. As to the first, he had reason for anxiety lest, by the admission of the lower clergy, a majority should he secured adverse to his interests. By means of the large number of obscure Italian bishops who had followed him to Constance, he hoped to he able to carry his measures. Distrustful of the other nations, he could rely upon his faithful Italians, and he did not wish to have their votes lost in those of the multitude of inferior clergy, and of the more secular element furnished from Germany, France, and England.

As to the second question—the manner in which the votes should be taken—the jealousy of the three other nations was excited by the numerical majority of the Italians. If the latter, however, as well as each of the others, was entitled to but a single vote, and the decisions of the council were to be based upon a majority of the votes by nations, each nation being entitled by a majority to determine how its vote should be cast, the Italians, who represented the strength of the papal party, would be able to command in the council but one vote out of four. To prevent such a consummation, urged by the French and Germans, was a favorite project on the part of the pope.

These two questions had been discussed as early as the twelfth of November, and early in December the other was taken up. It was strenuously urged that the wisest course would be to induce the two anti-popes, Benedict and Gregory, by gentle means, if possible, to cede their claims. It was hoped that by the lenity of the council, which was ready to lighten their fall, and secure for them in case of their abdication a favorable reversion, they might be persuaded to adopt this course. Such lenity, it was argued, with a gross inconsistency when the treatment of Huss is considered, was more accordant with the genius of the church, which was bound as a kind mother to reclaim her erring children by mild and gentle means.

Nothing had been publicly said as yet, in this connection, which bore directly against John XXIII. This was the subject which Niem calls the "noli me tangere." But appended to the schedule for the direction of the council, which had been drawn up in the congregation of November 12th, were certain articles which contemplated the possible necessity of extending the plan so as to include the abdication of John XXIII. But as yet, in the absence of the English and French deputations, the advocates of the measure did not feel themselves strong enough to urge it publicly. Although studiously concealed from the pope, he must soon have learned of it through his spies and the tools of his intrigue, at least if they possessed the skill for which Niem gives them credit, and the apprehension thus excited in the pontiff may be readily conceived.

The arrival of the English and Scotch deputations on the seventh of December, and of the French deputation on the eighteenth of the same month, gave a new face to these important questions, and unquestionably exercised a very considerable influence upon the policy of the council and the measures of the pope. Both these deputations were strongly prejudiced against Huss, and both of them were equally adverse to the favorite projects of the pope. It was not therefore an unwise move on the part of John XXIII to take the lead in urging on the trial of Huss. He might thus hope to secure the support of the English and French deputations, or at least divert the attention of the council from other matters more threatening to himself.

The views of the French delegation found in John Gerson their ablest representative. Previous to the council of Pisa, he had, on mature investigation, adopted the position which he still maintained. Politically a strenuous upholder of monarchical institutions, he was, strangely enough, an ecclesiastical democrat. In his celebrated treatise "De Auferibilitate Papæ," the very title of which was startling, he argues in defense of a republican church polity, and maintains that the church is independent of the pope, and for just reasons may depose him. The membership of a general council should, moreover, represent the church universal. It should embrace not only the higher prelates, but the lower clergy, and even the laity should be admitted, if, as in case of kings, princes, and rulers, they are disposed and able to contribute to the defense and welfare of the church. None, in fact, should be excluded, whose position, advantages, or influence could be of service to the general cause. All such were entitled to be heard, and should be admitted to membership.

Gerson may have been led in part to the adoption of these views by the circumstances of the times. He had no faith in the sincerity of either of the popes, or their respective conclaves. He knew that no reformation of the church was to be hoped for, if left to them and the higher prelates alone. A more popular voice must be heard, and a more popular feeling enlisted, to secure the result.

With these views, in the main, D’Ailly, the Cardinal of Cambray, fully concurred. His treaties that remain show that they were his, and deliberately adopted, long before the assembling of the council of Constance. In some respects, indeed, they nearly approached the positions taken on the subject by the reformers of the succeeding century. Gerson and D’Ailly both held opinions, which they strenuously and openly maintained, which were charged upon Huss as heresy. The latter was far more desponding than his friend in regard to the expected reformation. "If a new pope was to be elected"—such was his language five years previous to the assembling of the council—"whence would he come? The cardinals would claim the right of election, and would elevate one of their own number to the purple." What might be expected of such an election he gives us to understand, in comparing the conclave to the priests of Baal, who were all to be thrown to the lions; or to the family of Eli, who were all to be extirpated. "Even if a good pope was elected, the cardinals would not obey him." But at that time he was not a cardinal himself.

In regard to the inherent sanctity or infallibility of the pontiff, the views of D’Ailly were equally bold and original. Promotion to the papacy did not make a man holy. Peter was not impeccable. He charges the alienation of England and Hungary from the Romish church to the avarice of Pope Boniface, so that these kingdoms were still virtually (acephali) without a head. He does not spare the simony of the Roman court. He declares against the multitude, who, by trading in sacred things, had forced their way into the sheepfold. They had not entered in by the door, but by another way, and were truly robbers. He declares, "that as there is joy in heaven when a sinner repents, so then there is joy in Rome when a prelate dies. His benefices are the carcass around which the eagles exult to gather. An angel from heaven would vainly present his claim to be set over a vacant monastery, unless he paid for it the specified sum; otherwise his petition would not even be listened to." The question, in regard to one who seeks promotion, is not, "Are you a fit man, but have you got money?" He then traces the origin of the system of the reservation of benefices to the avarice of the popes, and claims that measures should be taken to restrain this unwarranted usurpation of power.

It seems strange that one holding such views, and openly maintaining and defending them, should have been elevated to the cardinalate by a man against whom they bore so directly as they did against John XXIII. And yet D’Ailly was raised by him to a seat in the conclave (1411). This promotion was, beyond doubt, intended as a bribe to buy him over to the pope’s interest. But if such was its intent, it signally failed. The course of the Cardinal of Cambray was independent of papal influence. He carried with him to the council the same opinions which he had previously held. That he knew the pope’s character from the first, and that he despaired of any good from that source, is evident.

In the treatise already referred to, he declares that the sects which had sprung up in Bohemia and Moravia were directly chargeable to the simoniacal heresy and reprobate acts of the court of Rome. The scandals committed at Prague, and which had spread over the whole kingdom, had been committed out of contempt for John XXIII. He mentions one of the books of Huss which impugns the papal authority and its plenitude of power, as written on this very account.

In Gerson’s works we find at least equal plainness of speech. The university of Paris was an independent republic in the bosom of the church, and though torn by many internal divisions, possessed still a national character, and uttered its decree with magisterial authority. At that period of the papal schism it seemed to have stepped into the vacant chair of papal authority, and to have disputed like a hard master with the popes themselves. Its views in regard to the council were represented by Gerson. On the point now under discussion, as to who should be admitted to a voice in the action of the council, Gerson had said, "Let no believer who wished to be heard be denied the privilege, so far at least as he is fitted to teach, or wishes to be taught." This was the position taken by the Cardinal of Cambray before Gerson’s arrival at the council. In a paper carefully drawn up, he maintained that no uniform rule had prevailed in regard to the membership of general councils. This had been dependent in great measure on the object for which they were convoked. In the councils of Pisa and of Rome, not only had doctors been allowed to vote, but even secular priests, their ambassadors and proxies. He argued that, if it was intended really to reform the clergy, it would be absurd to exclude the men most interested to secure such a result.

These views of D’Ailly were ably seconded by the Cardinal St. Mark. He demanded where the authority was to be found for excluding the inferior clergy from a voice in the council. He appealed to St. Paul, Jerome, and the Canoeists, to substantiate his position that all orders should be equally admitted to co-membership. "According to St. Paul," said he, "the bishop and the priest have the same character, the same dignity, and the pope himself is only the first among priests." The proxies of such as could not themselves be present, as well as royal ambassadors, should be admitted also.

These were the views which finally prevailed, ecclesiastical republicanism against papal monarchism and infallibility. The success of the opponents of the pope was due, undoubtedly, in great measure, to the fact that in maintaining their position they seemed to recognize the authority of the Pisan council, and thus, by implication, the legitimacy of the pope’s election.

In substantial agreement with the views of the French were those of the English deputation. If the university of Paris had condemned the articles of Huss, and had become embittered against the pope and papal iniquity, Oxford was not less outspoken in condemnation alike of whatever savored of Wickliffe, or sanctioned the extravagant corruption of the Roman court. It is not a little instructive to trace the causes which forced the anti-Wickliffe party in England into an attitude of indignant protest against pontifical corruption. Embittered against heresy, they had yet imbibed largely on some points, the very spirit of those whom they excommunicated and burned.

It was on the seventh day of December, 1414, that the English deputation reached the city of Constance. Among its members were the Bishops of Salisbury, Bath and Hereford, the Abbot of Westminster, the Prior of Worcester, and the Earl of Warwick, the last attended by a retinue of 600 mounted soldiers.

Cooped up in her island home, England had scarce any European reputation until the fierce forays of her monarchs had established the fame of her prowess on the battlefields of France. The names of Cressy and Poitiers, for little more than half a century, had, through Europe, become synonymous with English valor. The land of Thomas à Becket was the land of the Edwards also, and in less than twelve months from the opening of the council, the famous battle of Agincourt would give new weight to the vote of the English nation. Henry V, who had just put the crown upon his head, threw aide with his private estate the vices and follies of his youth, and evinced an unwonted regard fur the orthodoxy and welfare of the church. There had been in fact a strong reaction going on since the death of Wickliffe, against the measures he had sought to promote.

The ecclesiastical authorities had become alarmed at the progress of reform. The Lollards, as the followers of Wickliffe were called, could no longer be despised. The usurping claims of the papacy to the homage and tribute of the kingdom, the intrusion and impudent assumptions of the mendicant orders, and the general corruption which prevailed in the church, had united the mass of the English laity on the side of reform. The high, proud spirit of the English barons would not brook the arrogance of a foreign priest. Little skilled in the orthodoxy of doctrines, their patriotism recognized only in Wickliffe the champion of the nation’s rights. On every side his doctrines spread. The minority of Richard II left the power and authority of the government in the hands of his uncle, the Duke of Lancaster, a close friend of the reformer. The arm of persecution was not yet strong enough to put any effectual check to the course of the arch-heretic. Arraigned before the ecclesiastical court, a message came from the royal presence commanding them to let Wickliffe alone. Meanwhile throughout many of the counties of England the disciples of Wickliffe were scattered, and they were far from idle. With a primitive zeal they proclaimed everywhere the doctrines of the reformer. The minds of men were not altogether unprepared for their message. "The Complaint of Piers Ploughman," a most severe and scorching exposure of the vices of the clergy and the evils of the times, had been already extensively circulated. No one can peruse it and fail to discover, in almost every line, the plain and sturdy commonsense characteristic of the English people. It is a bold and manly protest against the falsehoods and usurpations that were masked under a sacred name. The English nation also, with singular unanimity, were united in an indignant resistance to the papal claims. In one form or another these came repeatedly before parliament. Even the clergy shrank from a public maintenance of what all were constrained to regard as an insult to the free spirit of the nation. Thus the papal authority was at the lowest ebb. Men spoke freely of the abuses, the impieties, the sensuality, the simony of the papal court. It is true that, from time to time, the Lollards were harassed and imprisoned. But persecution had not yet assumed an organized form, and the active energy of the reformers was busy scattering on every side the seed of evangelical truth. So far had the anti-papal feeling spread, even at Oxford, that it was seriously debated whether the papal bull should even be received. An old historian, Knighton, assures us that two men could not be found together and one not a Lollard. The bishops could not remain a long time blind to the spread of Wickliffe’s doctrines. Those who favored the new opinions were cited to appear before the episcopal courts. Some indeed recanted, but others bravely stood the shock, and none were delivered over to the secular arm. Oppression for conscience’ sake could not as yet call to its aid the resource of persecuting statutes.

But with the accession of Henry IV to the throne (1401) a new policy was adopted, less favorable to the spread of the opinions of Wickliffe. Henry IV was an usurper, yet the motto of his policy was opposition to tyranny, by which many had suffered. Banished from the realm by Richard II, he had taken refuge in France, and there, with Thomas Arundel, the exiled archbishop who had opposed the arbitrary measures of the court, had laid his plans not only for the recovery of his paternal estates, but for the deposition of King Richard and his own assumption of the crown. In the archbishop he found a useful and efficient ally. Through him he secured the favor of the English clergy and their powerful aid. It has been computed that at this time more than half the landed property of the kingdom was in their hands. Such an alliance as theirs was not, therefore, to be despised. They had need of Henry IV, and he had need of them. The fruits of this alliance were soon seen. Scarcely had the new king mounted the throne, when the writ de heretico comburendo made its appearance. Nor was it suffered long to remain a dead letter. The ecclesiastical power could now fall back on the aid of the secular arm. William Sawtré was the first victim of this unhallowed compact. He was a parish priest of St. Omer’s, London, and bore the reputation of a good man and a faithful preacher. On the assembling of the first parliament of Henry IV, he demanded to be heard "for the commodity of the whole realm." The sagacity of the bishops quickly detected the danger that might lurk under his free speech. He was arraigned before the episcopal court, tried, convicted, condemned, degraded, and given over to the secular arm. Other victims of priestly hate were not wanting. The fires of martyrdom were repeatedly kindled for those who refused to abjure or recant their imputed errors. The zealous orthodoxy of the English prelates was more and more inflamed against the opinions and the followers of Wickliffe. Commissioners were appointed to examine, and synods held to condemn, his doctrines. The circumstances and policy of the monarch were such that the ecclesiastics could force him to become their tool. They had raised him to the throne, and if he refused to serve their interests they might depose him.

Henry V pursued the policy of his father, Henry IV, and extended his approval to the measures of the persecuting clergy. Even Sir John Oldcastle, a powerful knight, and a favorite of the young monarch, was given up to their greedy malice, and cast into prison.

It was in such circumstances as these that the English deputation to the council of Constance was selected. It was sure to reflect the persecuting spirit of the church. The name of Wickliffe was odious to the English clergy, and whatever was associated with him or his opinions was already condemned by a partisan prejudice.

No one therefore could be deputed to the council who did not hold everything connected with Wickliffe in utter abomination. Of the deputation, Richard, Bishop of London, was a conspicuous member. He was one of the council before whom Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, was summoned, and had taken an active part upon his trial. Thomas Netter, of Walden in Essex, a Carmelite, and afterward prior of his order, was another member of the deputation. He had been present, and had participated in the sessions of the council of Pisa, and on his return to England had engaged with such zeal in the controversy against the opinions of Wickliffe, as to be designated the fittest representative of the clergy at the council of Constance. By some he was looked upon as the most eminent, and almost the only champion of the faith. Carried away with his partisan fervor, he had not spared the reputation of the king himself, but charged him, not altogether probably without reason, as lukewarm in his purpose to punish heretics. The charge was publicly made, and Henry V dared not resent it. The author of it was deservedly selected as one who would not be moved by the extreme of compassion towards his victims charged with heresy. The simple fact of his selection for the express purpose of inveighing against the followers of Huss, shows plainly enough the spirit in which the deputation was chosen. The enemies of Wickliffe, and consequently of Huss, were triumphantly in the ascendant. Like a wild beast that has once tasted blood, they were ravenous for new victims. Madly bent on the extermination of whatever bore the taint of heresy, their presence in the council could only give a new impulse to the persecuting spirit to which Huss was already so sorely exposed.

And yet the spirit of the English nation was strongly roused against papal usurpation. To a great extent the deputation to the council sympathized with this spirit. Robert Hallam, Bishop of Sarum, who died at Constance, and whose monument of English brass, sent over by his executors, is still to be seen in the minster of that city, was president of the deputation. Richard Ullerston was his bosom friend, and doubtless reflected his sentiments in a remarkable work published some few years previous to the assembling of the council. Ullerston was a native of Lancashire, and afterward theological professor at Oxford. He pursued his studies under Richard Courtnay—chaplain as well as blood relative of the Prince of Wales—a man who boldly dared to vindicate the rights of the university against episcopal usurpation. Such was the general respect for Ullerston’s character and ability, that his friend Hallam urgently pressed him to draw up a plan of reform to be submitted to the council. Ullerston acceded to the request. The work, entitled "Ullerston’s Petition for Church Reform," is dedicated to Hallam, and was so highly prized by him that "it was scarcely out of his hands during the sessions of the council." The work is divided into several chapters, embracing the various subjects of reform. The first of these is "The Papal Court," and in describing what a pope should be, every line seems a satire upon the vices of John XXIII. In condemning the simony that prevailed in the church, he does not hesitate to refer to the mystic Babylon of the Apocalypse, "the great mother of fornication and abomination," attributing this title on scriptural grounds to her wealth and pride. In endeavoring to establish the authority of the evangelical standard, he maintains "that Christ did not set Peter over the church to the intent that his gospel should lose its authority, or that Peter should enact laws of greater authority, or that the gospel should be less honored through any act of his successors." Yet so far from this being the case, he declares that "if laws are now spoken of, they are understood to refer to human enactments rather than the gospel. The last is reputed now in the church as of no more binding force than a verse of Cato or a maxim of Seneca." He condemns the practice of elevating unfit men to sacerdotal or prelatical office, arraigns the vices and especially the libertinism of the clergy, while, "by the abuse of dispensations, wickedness of all kinds is encouraged, and dares to show itself with shameless and unblushing face." The system of appeals to the court of Rome, so grateful to the papal avarice, but so odious to the English nation, is arraigned and exposed. The avarice of the clergy, their extravagance in dress, their luxury, their mixing themselves up with secular affairs, are indignantly rebuked.

This little treatise of Ullerston, if it had been anonymous, might almost have been mistaken for a sermon of Huss. It is written in the very spirit of Clemengis’ famous pamphlet "On the Corrupt State of the Church," every line of which is like a scorpion lash against the iniquities of the times.

Contemporary with Ullerston was another Englishman of kindred spirit, scarcely less bold or able in his exposure of papal usurpation and corruption. Doctor Paul, a priest highly distinguished for his knowledge of the common law, published, about ten years previous to the council of Constance, a work which must have expressed the feelings and convictions of a great portion of the English people. Although, like Ullerston, unsuspected of the least taint of Wickliffe’s heresy, he saw with a clear eye the gross abominations and corruptions of the age. His work is entitled "A Golden Mirror held up to the Court of Rome, the Prelates, and the entire Clergy." The plan of it is a dialogue between the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul. It is dedicated to the cardinals, the heads of the clergy, and all the officers of the court of Rome. The writer testifies his grief at the papal schism, and the countless errors which prevailed, heaped up as it were upon his own unhappy age. The law had departed from the priests, and through them had fallen into contempt. The court of Rome was deformed and maimed by errors, from the sole of its foot to the crown of its bead. If these assertions seems too bold for him to make, his excuse is, that few dare to utter an open and public rebuke of the prevailing vice and corruption.

The substance and scope of the work are much the same with those of "Ullerston’s Petition." "Alas!" says he, "that in these latter times the apostles have left the word of God to serve tables. Each seeks his own and not the things of Jesus Christ." He deplores the fact that "no election to an ecclesiastical benefice, even though of the fittest person, and made by divine inspiration, could become effective without money." This abuse he charges upon the court of Rome, "where persons ignorant, scandalous for vice, ambitious, cruel, and every way unfit, are promoted to be bishops. Benefices are bestowed on scullions, pimps, hostlers, and even children. The signature of the pope has its price. Dispensations and indulgences are sold for money, and he is the greatest who is most cunning to deceive, and skilful in sacrilegious traffic. The sum total of devotion is to gain the penny."

From these causes spring the innumerable evils that afflict the church. Those who originate them do not so much guard as crush the church. Instead of feeding the flock, they slay and devour it. The whole work of Doctor Paul is a most energetic protest against papal corruption and usurpation. Huss himself could scarcely have spoken with greater boldness, or have uttered a more indignant rebuke of wickedness in high places.

The same spirit which is manifest in these treatises of Ullerston and Paul, was shown by other eminent Englishmen, who could not be suspected of sympathy with Wickliffe or Huss. Nutter, whose name has already been mentioned as a member of the English deputation, was of this class. One of his associates at the council was John Dorre, whose honest English sense found expression for itself in a figure adapted to the diseased state of the church. His prescription would, doubtless, have had a good temporary effect. His "recipe for the stomach of St. Peter, and its complete reformation, given in the council of Constance," is as follows: "Take twenty-four cardinals, a hundred archbishops and prelates, an equal number from each nation, and as many creatures of the court as you can secure; plunge them into the waters of the Rhine, and let them remain submerged for the space of three days. This will be effective for St. Peter’s stomach, and will remove its entire corruption." No Protestant doctor surely would have prescribed a harsher remedy.

There was another Englishman whose name should not be passed over in silence. Walter Dysse was an eminent theologian, and a member of the Carmelite order. He was for several years in the service of that master in the art of simony, Boniface IX, and was employed by him in missions to different parts of Europe. At one time we find him in Spain, preaching a crusade against the infidels, and at another engaged in writing against Wickliffe. No man had a better opportunity to observe the general corruption of the church, or the morals of the papal court. Yet, with all the influences that might have sufficed to seal his lips, brought to bear upon him, he dared to speak out in a tone of earnest remonstrance. A poem composed by him on the evils of the age, entitled "The Schism of the Church," is not unworthily appended to the works of Clemengis. This poem consists of only two hundred and sixty lines, but the picture they present shows that it was taken from the same real objects of which his contemporaries have left us the daguerreotype. The author declares himself "at a loss which pope to recognize." "The pastors of the church have become harpies." "The pontiffs and prelates are devoted to their cups and hoards. The church is sold and plundered by those who should cherish her. If you wish to be rich, be wicked; do something that deserves the prison. Ambition and luxury crush the minds of all, and bury them in vice. Sons of the nobility are sent to France to be made doctors. The priest and people are alike. The blind leads the blind. Children learn vile arts sooner than their alphabet."

We have no evidence in regard to the presence of Dysse at the council. He may have been there, however, as a visitor, or even as a member.

We may thus see something of the views and feelings of the English deputation. Animated, many of them, by the fiercest hatred toward Wickliffe and Huss—in some cases selected for the post on account of the very virulence of their opposition to what they accounted heresy—they yet condemn without a dissenting voice the prevalent corruption of the church, denouncing it in terms scarcely, if at all, less severe than the reformers themselves. It is a singular spectacle. And yet, unless it is carefully studied, we shall fail to understand the policy which controlled the action of the council.

With the views thus presented and maintained by the English deputation, those of the French coincided to a great extent, and on whatever policy they might unite, they might be confident of success. The cardinals who had Huss in charge were too shrewd not to observe and take advantage of the circumstances so favorable to their views and interests. They could offset the current of popular opinion in the council against the imperial purpose, nor were they slow to make use of the vantage-ground thus afforded. 

The English and French deputations had already reached Constance, when the near approach of the emperor was announced. He arrived at Uberlingen, some seven miles from Constance, on Christmas Eve. A message was at once forwarded to the pope, requesting him to celebrate mass in the cathedral church on the arrival of the imperial train. Crossing the lake, the emperor entered Constance at about four o’clock on the following morning. He was accompanied, among others, by his wife Barbara, daughter of the Count Cilley, his daughter Elizabeth, queen of Bosnia, Rodolph, elector of Saxony, and Anne of Wirtemburg.

The Empress Barbara, second wife , of Sigismund, was, according to Æneas Sylvius, a woman of infamous morals and abandoned character. While king of Hungary, Sigismund had been seized by some of his powerful subjects and cast into prison. His marriage to Barbara was made one of the conditions of his liberation. This condition, with others less revolting, though scarcely less humiliating, was faithfully observed. The emperor’s fidelity to his forced engagements stands in singular contrast with his faithlessness toward Huss.

After a few hours’ repose, Sigismund repaired to the cathedral. The pope, prepared to celebrate the pontifical mass, was awaiting his arrival. The emperor assisted in the ceremonial, clothed in the habits of a deacon. The pope is said to have trembled as he listened to the reading of the passage, "There went out a decree from Augustus Caesar," etc., and saw before him the crowned successor to his imperial power. The throne of Sigismund, magnificently adorned, had been prepared on the pope’s right, while, still further on, was the seat provided for the empress. At the side of the emperor, his red cap surmounted by the imperial crown, stood, bearing the royal scepter, the Marquis of Brandenburg, while the Duke of Saxony, as grand marshal of the empire, held aloft a drawn sword. Between the emperor and the pope stood Count Cilley, the father-in-law of Sigismund, holding in his hand the golden apple or globe. When the ceremonies of the mass were completed, the pope presented the emperor a sword, charging him to use it with all his energies in defense of the church. Sigismund received it, with the solemn promise to be faithful to the charge. Little did the pope imagine that in the person of his ally and protector, Frederic, Duke of Austria, he would so soon feel its edge.

By the arrival of the emperor, the splendor and authority of the council seemed complete. Never before had the world witnessed the assemblage of an ecclesiastical body so imposing in its array of power, learning, and talent. The ablest minds of Europe, the highest dignitaries of the church, princes and kings, present in person or by deputy, took part in its proceedings. As to the religious or even moral character of the body, little need be said. It fairly reflected the condition of the Christendom of the day. Gerson left it, disappointed in all his hopes. Neim and De Vrie, as well as others, spectators of its proceedings, paint it in the darkest colors. The opinions of Clemengis in regard to it were not more flattering. It was evident that multitudes, if not the great majority of its members, were drawn to Constance by ambition, curiosity, or the hope of gain.

The wishes of the emperor were, to a great extent, the controlling influence of the assembly. With an earnest purpose, clear and definite aims, and a policy as yielding and pliant as the readiest attainment of his ends required, he succeeded to a wonderful degree in shaping its deliberations and decisions. It was one of his maxims, that a prince who knew not how to dissemble was not fit to reign. Thwarted, for the moment, in his plans, he was sufficiently politic to yield to the dominant influence long enough to become its master, and turn it in a direction to suit his designs. Religious, according to the notions of his age, he certainly was—carefully attentive to the ceremonials, however lax in the moralities of a Christian profession. Of his sincere desire to put an end to the papal schism there can be no doubt. From the moment that he saw the imperial crown in prospect, he seemed to feel that he was divinely commissioned to restore peace and unity to the church. His unwearied efforts to this end scarcely allowed him needful repose. But his known and even avowed principles assure us that no rigid or scrupulous conscientiousness would be suffered to obstruct the execution of his purpose. Thrown into a nest of intrigue, he found himself at home among the very masters of the art. To the power and authority of his position, he added the skill, policy, and tact which gave him at last a decided supremacy over every rival.

The glory of restoring peace to the church and reforming it from its corruptions, was Sigismund’s idol. It was here that he exposed his weak side to the machinations of those who sought to circumvent him. Whatever purpose, subordinate to his main one, could be shown to interfere with it, was instantly sacrificed. The enemies of Huss were not slow to detect this avenue to the successful prosecution of their plans. Undoubtedly the emperor gave the reformer his safe-conduct in good faith, and was unaffectedly indignant at the slight put upon it. But what was the harm of its temporary vi