Overtones of intrigue and statecraft are dominant in the prelude to the imperial assembly at Worms. The church at Rome had given its decision. Would the secular authorities now take action and turn him over to the papal authorities?

Charles, at his coronation as emperor, had subscribed to the imperial constitution which said no German should be taken outside his country for trial, and also that no one should be outlawed without a hearing. Frederick the Wise, Luther’s elector, took no action against him, using these same reasons as an excuse. Aleander, the papal representative, wanted the case settled arbitrarily by the emperor since he was well aware of the support Luther would receive at a public hearing. The man had been condemned by the church, he argued, and as good churchmen the rulers should simply apprehend the Wittenberg monk without a further examination of his views.

For the first three months of 1521 the diet devoted itself chiefly to transacting state business. During this period Emperor Charles changed his mind several times about inviting the Wittenberg monk for a hearing. Finally, on March 6, against his will, he offered Luther a safe-conduct to Worms.

In a two-wheeled cart Luther and a few companions set out from Wittenberg on April 2. Cities along the way welcomed him and invited him to preach, but no reception equaled the one on his arrival at Worms. When the party was sighted from the cathedral tower at 10 A. M., on April 16, a group of horsemen dashed out to act as an escort through the city gate. Two thousand spectators thronged the streets so that Luther was barely able to reach his lodging in the house of the Knights of St. John.

He was summoned to appear at four o’clock the following afternoon, and because of the crowds in the streets was conducted through gardens and alleys to the episcopal palace where the diet was meeting. When the door of the assembly hall was opened, Luther was ushered through a company of princes, nobles, and ecclesiastics to the foot of a canopied chair. On it sat Charles, the twenty-one-year-old emperor. Near by was a table loaded with books.

Answer Without Horns

After the opening courtesies had been dispatched the presiding officer, an official of the archbishop of Trier, pointed to the books, asked Luther if he was the author, and if he was ready to retract what he had written.

Luther had been instructed to speak only in answer to direct questions and was not to seek a discussion. However, this double question could not be answered yes or no. He paused and his legal adviser asked that the titles be read. Luther then acknowledged that the books were his.

Again the question, “Will you retract...?”

The monk believed his writing was an accurate interpretation of God’s Word. In his mind was Christ’s admonition to the disciples “whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father....” Since salvation was involved he asked time to think over the answer. The diet agreed that he should return at four the next afternoon.

After a night of prayer Luther again appeared before the impressive assembly. This time a larger hall had been chosen because of the tremendous crowd. Again the formalities, and again the question, but this time phrased a bit differently. “Do you defend all of your books or are you willing to recall some things?” This was the opening Luther had been seeking and he quickly shaped his strategy to take advantage of it. They were forcing him to make a speech since a categorical answer was impossible.

The books were in three classes, Luther explained. The first was purely devotional and had been commended even by his enemies. The second was against the papacy. If he recanted these he would open the door to further tyranny and impiety. The third class inveighed against individuals, and in these he admitted he had used caustic and intemperate language. Still the facts had to stand unless refuted by the Scriptures, in which case he would be first to cast his books into the fires.

Obviously the diet could not at this moment disprove his works by the Bible. There was a consultation. The interrogator turned to Luther. “Give us a direct answer—one without horns. Will you or will you not recant your errors?”

Neither Right nor Safe

The Spanish guards were mentally stacking faggots around the lonely little figure in the middle of the room. Princes, nobles, and the Holy Roman Emperor leaned forward to catch his words.

“Since Your Majesty and Your Lordships want a direct reply, I will answer without horns or teeth,” he began quietly.

The spectators looked at each other significantly, then back to the earnest friar. Confidence was returning and his voice carried plainly to all corners of the room.

“Unless convinced by the testimony of Scripture or right reason—for I trust neither the pope nor councils inasmuch as they have often erred and contradicted one another—I am bound in conscience, held captive by the Word of God in the Scriptures I have quoted. I neither can nor will recant anything, for it is neither right nor safe to act against conscience. God help me! Amen.”

There was silence for an instant. Then pandemonium broke loose. The interrogator tried to restore order but the emperor walked out and the meeting adjourned. Luther was escorted back to his rooms by the admiring populace. Nobles who had been on the fringe now openly praised the courageous preacher and vowed their support. During the night warning notices were surreptitiously posted on the doors of his enemies.

Charles summoned the electors and princes the following day to decide what should be done. His own impulse to condemn Luther right away was restrained because he needed the good will of the Germans in other measures coming before the diet. A plan was evolved whereby a select group of theologians would call on Luther and try to effect a reconciliation through persuasion. The discussion always bogged down when Luther insisted he must be persuaded on the basis of Scripture.

Having received a twenty-one-day safe-conduct Luther set out for Wittenberg on April 26. The diet closed officially on May 25, and the next day, following a rump session of prejudiced nobles, the emperor signed the Edict of Worms. According to it, Luther was the devil himself in a monk’s habit. He was to be seized on sight and turned over to the emperor—an outlaw of the church and the state.