The War Against Hus
The War Against Hus
“What I have taught with my lips, I now seal with my blood.” – attributed to Jan Hus
Eventually, the archbishopric protection granted to Hus eventually wore off, and it was discontinued by Pope Innocent VII himself. On June 24, 1405, Zajic received orders from the pope to unequivocally repudiate Wycliffism. Left with no choice but to assent to the higher power, Zajic issued a synodal decree that banned all Wycliffian texts and prevented reformers such as Hus from taking the immoral priests to task.
Pope Innocent VII
Hus lamented the loss of his powerful ally, but he remained undaunted. In 1406, a pair of Bohemian students returned from their trip to England, bringing with them a new Wycliffian manuscript secured by the official seal of the University of Oxford. The following morning, Hus defied the anti-Wycliffe decrees once more when he recited the manuscript in full from his pulpit at the Bethlehem Chapel. Priests observing from afar erupted in a flurry of whispers, and it would not be long before Pope Innocent VII's successor, Pope Gregory XII, learned of Hus' insubordination. Furious, the pope authored another letter addressed to Archbishop Zajic, berating him for his inability to rein in the remaining Wycliffe supporters and warning him about King Wenceslaus IV's excessive leniency towards the reformers. Not wanting to provoke the pope any further, the king proposed that Wycliffe's work be submitted to the archdiocesan chancery for a more in-depth analysis, followed by revisions. Sensing the potential loss of another valuable ally, Hus complied - after all, he also disagreed with some of Wycliffe's ideas. This was a wise move, as it kept the king in his corner for some time, a situation made all the more vital by the fact he was losing allies.
Pope Gregory XII
A late 14th century depiction of King Wenceslaus IV from the Wenceslas Bible
Hus was most disillusioned by Archbishop Zajic, who Hus felt had demonstrated a complete change of heart in less than five years. In 1407, the archbishop targeted Palec and Stanislav, Hus' closest companions, and charged them with heresy, sentencing them for an immediate examination at the Roman Curia. To Hus' dismay, Palec and Stanislav were propagandized, so much so that they emerged at the forefront of the anti-reform movement and severed all ties with Hus. In fact, Palec, who once clung to the reformer, became so antipathetic to the nonconformist's ideas that he actively campaigned to have Hus condemned as a heretic.
Throughout the entire ordeal, Hus became convinced that the loss of his allies was no more than a test put forth by God, so he regrouped and kept pushing on, determined to bring his true beliefs to the masses. An unnamed author, as documented by O'Reggio, explained the significance of the controversial, but flourishing movement: “Religious conflict, reinforced by social factors, broke out and as the socially and religiously discontented in Bohemia were almost exclusively Czechs, it gained an irresistible momentum. The part played by national feeling made this revolt unique. For the first time in modern history, a united nation was to rise in arms. It was fighting for its faith, but national feeling, particularly strong for social reasons, was also engaged. For the first time, the overwhelming and fateful strength of national feeling was revealed. John Hus [personified] the fusion of these three compelling forces.”
In 1408, as the tensions brought about by the Western Schism continued to escalate, King Wenceslaus IV published a decree that called upon all Bohemian residents to take a strict stance of neutrality when it came to the two rival popes, Gregory XII and Benedict XIII. The Czech members of Charles University, Hus included, abided by the order with no hesitation, but Archbishop Zajic and the German university professors protested against the edict and resolutely sided with Pope Gregory, chiefly due to his fierce opposition towards the reformists and his support of the Germans. Insulted by their insolence, King Wenceslaus IV retaliated by restructuring the university charter on January 18, 1409 via the Decree of Kutna Hora. Before the decree, staff members from each nation (Bohemians, Bavarians, Saxons, and Poles) were each allowed one single vote apiece, but the new decree granted three votes to the Bohemians and only one vote to the rest of the nations, which rendered the system pointless. As a result, irate German students, professors, and masters left the university in droves, which had a clear impact on the institution's directory since Germans previously made up approximately 70% of the university body. The Decree of Kutna Hora was specially tailored to suit the needs of the reformer, and with the ball now permanently in the court of the Bohemians, resistance against the movement would be vastly reduced. More importantly, Hus was now entitled to preach whatever he pleased on the university grounds.
On June 26, 1409, the Council of Cardinals (otherwise known as the “Council of Pisa”) took place. In a convoluted and ultimately failed bid to depose the rival popes and end the Western Schism, the attendees of the conference elected Pietro Cardinal Philarghi, also known as Antipope Alexander V, into the office. Huss and his followers, as instructed by King Wenceslaus IV, agreed to serve under the authority of the antipope with little fuss. The archbishop, much of the senior clergy, and what was left of the Germans remained faithful to Gregory behind closed doors.
Antipope Alexander V
As a reward for his compliance, Hus was reinstated as the rector of the university on October 17, 1409. This reacquired position provided him with eminence amongst his peers, and he was given precedence over academic matters and other general affairs. Many now consider his appointment as university rector to be the pinnacle of his overall career, a time when his once-stellar reputation, though somewhat blemished, was still intact.
Archbishop Zajic viewed Hus' allegiance to the antipope as yet another act of betrayal, but Zajic could not afford to antagonize the king, taking note of his isolation given the absence of his German comrades. As such, the archbishop outwardly pledged his allegiance to Antipope Alexander V, but not without a trick up his sleeve. In the hopes of turning the situation around, Zajic supposedly extended to the antipope a series of substantial bribes, and in return he was granted a number of favors.
Zajic then filed an official statement of protest against Wycliffe and his followers, accusing them of inciting “ecclesiastical disturbances,” and Antipope Alexander V, now in Zajic's camp, authorized a papal bull on December 20, 1409 that vested the archbishop and other senior clergy with the power to prosecute Wycliffe devotees, thereby nullifying the protection and perks granted to Hus by the Decree of Kutna Hora. The bull also reiterated the ban on all reformative Wycliffe material and preaching in public and private places of worship alike, “even those which had privileges granted by the Apostolic See,” for good measure.
Once the bull came into effect, the archbishop ordered everyone in the kingdom to surrender all Wycliffe related manuscripts to the cardinal's representative. Those who neglected to act accordingly within six days were swiftly excommunicated, no questions asked. Zajic's men then built a blazing bonfire and began feeding wagons upon wagons of literature, including Trialogus (which Hus had translated), Dialogus, and De Eucharista, to the flames as the haunting toll of their bells spilled across the open space. Hus beseeched the antipope to reconsider, but Alexander V’ss decision was final.
Still undaunted, the indefatigable Hus refused to change his sermons at Bethlehem Chapel. What's more, in another show of defiance, the relentless reformer taught and led his congregation in belting out new, unapproved worship songs (some possibly composed by Hus himself) during services. Frantisek Palacky, a renowned 19th century Czech historian, detailed the efficacy and potency of Hus' style of preaching: “The sermons preached during many years by this man in the Bethlehem Chapel of...Prague were among the most important events of his time. Less coarse in his sermons than Waldhauser, less exaggerated in his views than Milic, he did not affect his hearers so powerfully as his predecessors, and yet his success was far more lasting. He appealed especially to the common sense of his hearers, aroused their interest, taught and convinced them, and yet he was not lacking in impressiveness. Several attributes raised him far above his colleagues and contemporaries. Among these were keenness and clearness of his mind, the tact with which he penetrated to the very heart of a question, the ease with which he knew how to develop it [sic] before the eyes of all, the wide reading, especially in the Holy Scriptures, and the firmness and logic with which he proved a whole system of principles…To all this, we may add the deep earnestness of his character, his devout spirit, a personal conduct in which even his enemies could find nothing to blame, a burning zeal for the moral elevation of the people, as well as the reformation of the ecclesiastical conditions of his time...which looked upon the martyr's crown as the highest goal of human life.”
By this stage, Hus was no stranger to being in the crosshairs of authorities, but whereas many in his shoes might’ve chosen to abort their endeavors, the tireless reformer's audacity only grew. In August 1408, just a few months prior to the implementation of the Kutna Hora Decree, local clerics accused Hus of sacrilegious speech. The preacher, the clerics claimed, professed to know the perennial location of Wycliffe's soul, but the accused denied that he had ever made such a claim, offering an explanation which suggested that the predestination of man is indeterminable. The accusations were reasonably minor, and the allegations against him were quickly put aside, but his accusers would not forget the imputation. They preserved the records, gradually assembling an airtight case against him.
In the spring of 1409, Hus was summoned again, this time due to charges foisted upon him by Master Marik Rvacka. A board of judges marshaled by Rvacka and his associates interrogated him for the anti-Catholic rhetoric in his treatises, referencing the preacher's works dating from 1399-1409. Hus, as ordered by his inquisitors, could only answer “yes” or “no,” a strategic directive that complicated his defense. Historians consider this the Church's first official attempt to declare him a heretic. They were particularly outraged by Hus' negative stance on Donatism, defined by Father Matthew Flatley of The Catholic Missourian as “[a system that suggests] that Christian clergy must be faultless in order for their ministry to be effective and their prayers and sacraments to be valid.” Fortunately for Hus, the evidence against him was deemed insufficient, and the matter was put to rest.
Hus could only stay one step ahead of his adversaries for so long, and when he staunchly refused to relinquish his Wycliffe texts by the deadline, incontrovertibly defying the papal bull, he was accused of “opposing the Catholic faith,” branded a heretic and the wretched leader of Bohemian Wycliffism, and excommunicated.
Hus and his followers – the first generation of “Hussites” – set out to cause havoc, and Hus fanned the flames from his pulpit, denouncing both the archbishop and the antipope to roaring applause. Hus' supporters at the university displayed their solidarity by leading and partaking in protests, flaunting their disapprobation of Zajic and Antipope Alexander V and unabashedly championing Wycliffe and Hus. Hus' most faithful companion, the same Jerome of Prague who acquainted him with Wycliffe in the first place, spearheaded many of these rallies. The demonstrators chanted as they marched around their circuits:
“Zbinek, Bishop A, B, C,
Burnt the books, but ne'er knew he,
What was in them written!”
When Hus' followers caught wind of the archbishopric sermon against him on July 22, 1410, a mob took to the streets with blades and clubs in hand. According to one chronicler, in St. Stephen's Church, “six men with drawn swords tried to slay a blaspheming preacher.” Another group broke away, stormed into a nearby cathedral, and chased away 40 priests. The clerics were so frightened by the violent backlash that they dared not to honor the excommunication, though the order remained in effect.
For reasons that remain unclear, the relationship between Hus and King Wenceslaus IV remained whole. Having had enough, the king and his queen consort endeavored to bring about a cessation of the hostilities, and eventually he succeeded in persuading Zajic to drop the heresy charges and lift the excommunication order on Hus. Though the archbishop agreed, he did little to mask his reluctance, and even less to fulfill his promises.
The Hussites pounced on the opportunity to groom the new antipope, Baldassare Cardinal Cossa (John XXIII), after he was elected in the wake of the untimely death of Alexander V roughly two months before the riots. Hus and his devotees appeared before Antipope John XXIII and implored him to overturn the commission installed by his predecessor. R. Martin Pope and Herbert B. Workman of the Online Library of Liberty break down the Hussites' defense in the following passage: “They had obtained, they pleaded, the books of Wycliffe 'at great trouble and cost.' Only a fool 'would condemn to be burnt treatises, logical, philosophical, mathematical, moral, which contain many noble truths, but no errors. By the same reasoning we must burn the books of Aristotle, the commentaries of Averrhoes, or the works of Origen [sic].' They further protested against the charge that Bohemia was full of heretics, quoting against Zajic his own declaration. Alexander's bull, they concluded, was obtained by fraud and forgery.”
Antipope John XXIII
Sometime in the early months of 1411, King Wenceslaus IV finally managed to push the Hussites and the archbishop's camp one step closer to reconciliation by convincing both parties to agree to a truce. However, this period of peace proved fleeting, and in the autumn of that same year, Antipope John XXIII launched a vigorous campaign against King Ladislaus of Naples, a stalwart defender of Pope Gregory XII and the Roman Catholic Church. To finance this crusade, the antipope issued a papal bull in March of 1412 that guaranteed forgiveness via indulgence purchases to all those who contributed to the cause.
Disregarding the objections of King Wenceslaus IV, Hus took to his pulpit and delivered a polemic against the antipope's bull, a derisive speech entitled “Questions of Master Jan Hus On the Subject of Indulgences.” In addition to his usual criticism of indulgences, Hus criticized the popes for not just encouraging war, but actually waging it.
The unswervingly dedicated Hussites then took matters into their own hands. Jerome mobilized another band of student protesters, who were tasked with seizing all the indulgence certificates they could get their hands on and setting them ablaze. Some protesters took it one step further by hurling a copy of the papal bull into the flames.
Their blatant irreverence towards the sacred document was later used against both Hus and Jerome. A letter from the infuriated Town Council read, “Master Jerome, we are astonished at your lighting up a fire, in which you run the risk of being burned yourself!” Many of Jerome's loved ones begged him to put a stop to the protests and abandon his allegiance towards Hus, but like his idol, his iron will was unshakable. He served nobly as a mouthpiece for Hus, preaching both verbally and by quill against clerical corruption, indulgences, simony, and iconodulism (the veneration of religious images and icons). Jerome thundered, “They who cease to preach [for Hus and genuine Scripture] will be reputed traitors in the day of judgment.”
The Hussites' crusade against indulgences was momentous in more ways than one, for this, as O'Reggio explains, “marked the beginning of the loss of support from the king.” On July 10, 1412, three layman Hus devotees – Martin Kridelko, Jan Hudec of Slany, and Stasek Polak – carried their anti-indulgence protests into a string of local churches, including the St. James Church, the T'yn Church, and the St. Vitus, Wenceslaus, and Aldabert Cathedral in Prague Castle. They caused such a commotion with their thunderous chants and unabating heckling that they were dragged into custody and tossed behind bars on the very same day. Not one to desert his disciples, Hus marched into city hall, accompanied by a dizzying cortege of about 2,000 students and university masters, and demanded their release. “Do not punish them for my actions,” Hus appealed to the magistrates. “It was I, and I alone, who initiated this crusade.” Hus' pleas fell on deaf ears, and the very next day, all three were beheaded at the execution grounds of the custom house.
According to a contemporary chronicler, a group of Hussites stealthily retrieved the corpses of the slain three, and prepared for them an impromptu procession “with great boldness.” The procession, which began at the town square and concluded in Bethlehem Chapel, was accompanied by the cavalcade's somber intonation of the phrase “Isti sunt sancti.” Following the procession, the bodies were swaddled in lace-white linen at the hands of female Hussites, and the cocooned corpses were buried in the chapel graveyard the next day, with Hus performing martyrial rites rather than the traditional funeral rites. Hus called the slain trio “more valuable than their weight in gold...I would not surrender their bodies for all the money in the world.” Kridelko, Hudec, and Polak are now remembered as the first martyrs of the Hussite movement.
Archbishop Albik, who succeeded Zajic following his death in September 1411, did his utmost to talk Hus into discontinuing the movement, but the reformer had reached the point of no return. Likewise, the exasperated King Wenceslaus IV attempted to restore harmony between the opposing parties one last time, but this was again futile, and with that, he stopped trying.
Not long after the execution of the Hussite trio, Michael de Causis, the resident prosecutor of the papal curia, lodged a comprehensive complaint – carefully curated from the interactions between Hus and the Church over the years – on behalf of the Prague clergy. Antipope John XXIII gave his approval, entrusting the cardinal's office with proceeding against Hus and the Hussites.
Cardinal Peter degli Stephaneschi, acting accordingly, issued an arrest warrant of sorts for the reformer. Hus, as dictated by the edict, was to be arrested and made to appear before the Curia, and the Bethlehem Chapel was to be shuttered and razed to the ground, effective immediately. If Hus neglected to present himself, the Curia was entitled to impose even stricter restrictions upon him. Not only would the reformer be categorically excommunicated a second time, his city of residence would be placed under interdict, meaning that the city's residents were prohibited from receiving sacramental rites and ecclesiastical privileges.
Hus chose not to appear before the Curia, which he believed to be a surefire death sentence, but he was also unwilling to deprive the civilians of their ecclesiastical entitlements and sanctitude, so he fled to a remote area in the outskirts of the city and went into hiding. The charges against Hus and his status as a fugitive proved to be enough for King Wenceslaus IV to wash his hands of Hus completely.
When exactly Hus went into hiding is unknown, but most chroniclers estimate it to be sometime in early December 1412. It is thought that he camped out in southern Bohemia until the spring of 1414. He originally resided in one of the spare rooms of the Gothic Kozi Hradek Castle in the Tabor district before moving on to the small town of Sezimovo Usti, situated roughly 4.3 miles west of the previous castle. He remained in Sezimovo Usti for approximately a year or so, then moved once more in mid-July 1414, relocating to Krakovec Castle in West Prague. He reportedly stayed there until October.
To keep himself busy while on the run, Hus authored at least 15 books and treatises. In the Kozi Hradek Castle, the reformer completed Expositions of the Faith, an exhaustive commentary on classic Catholic prayers and laws that included sections on the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Apostles' Creed.
Another one of his earlier titles was De Sex Erroribus, (Six Heresies of the Church) which was essentially a succinct summary of Hus' core beliefs and teachings. The first heresy, according to the reformer, pertained to creation. Hus slammed Church leaders for the claim that they are able to repeatedly “recreate Christ,” whereas Mary could only do so once.
The second heresy pertained to what he considered the Catholic Church's excessive veneration of Mary, the saints, and the pope. In the same breath, the reformer denounced the concept of papal infallibility, and he urged Christians to hold the pope accountable for injustices, such as papal bulls that failed to align with Scripture. The Scripture, he reminded readers, would always and forever hold supremacy over mortal church leaders and clerics.
The third heresy involved the forgiveness of sins through the sale of indulgences. Only God had the power to purify one of their sins, so the purchasing of these certificates was as contradictory to Scripture as it was fruitless. Priests, Hus asserted, should instead direct their efforts towards teaching laymen how to properly seek repentance. Hus wrote, “He should say, 'Dear brother, as you repent your sins and ask the merciful Savior to forgive them, your sins are forgiven.'”
The fourth heresy called into question the imperfect nature of priests. While placing one's trust in the words of priests was a given, Hus encouraged his readers to trust their instincts and to speak out if they ever felt misled by their ministry, should the situation call for it.
The fifth heresy challenged the anathema, the term for the papal curse of excommunication. Hus blasted the callousness of the irrevocable order of exclusion and deplored the absence of brotherly love.
Last, but not least, the sixth heresy concerned simony, the sale of ecclesiastical posts, roles, and benefices. In that vein, he called upon all priests and religious role models to straighten up their acts, citing their predilection for bribes, embezzlement, alcohol abuse, and lack of asceticism, among other scandals.
In early 1413, the same year he completed De Ecclesia (The Church), one of his most notable works, he published the aptly titled Concerning Simony. As implied by its title, the book was a withering commentary and investigation into the practice. A few months later, Hus took a breather from his virulent campaign against the Church and penned a book on the subject of the path to salvation. He also authored a number of aggressive treatises against his former comrades Palec and Stanislav. World Atlas contributor Aliasgar Abuwala described the impact of Hus' original literature: “When [Hus] switched from Latin to Czech, he developed a new orthography like simpler rules of spelling, capitalization, hyphenation, and punctuation, etc. These works are [now] considered classics of Czech literature and remain important in the evolution of the Czech language.”
Notwithstanding his fugitive status, Hus is said to have slithered in and out of Prague a few times, discovering that so long as he refrained from stepping behind the pulpit, the interdict was not enforced. As if to put this theory to the test, Hus slipped into one of the local churches mid-sermon, apparently, as reported by his detractors, to hijack the pulpit. Local authorities seized the reformer mid-stride. One can only speculate as to why Hus was released, but before long, the reformer had retreated to the shadows.
In autumn of 1414, Hus received a curious letter bearing the wax seal of Sigismund of Nuremberg, King of Germany and future Holy Roman Emperor. The reformer had been invited to attend the Council of Constance, and the German king assured Hus that he need not fear because the council was just a friendly conference that simply aimed to resolve a few issues. In addition, Hus was presented with the chance to properly and civilly defend himself before the ecumenical council. Sigismund even offered to dispatch to his location a hand-picked retinue of his finest knights, who were tasked with escorting the reformer to and from the council and guaranteeing protection throughout the conference.
Although initially reluctant, Hus ultimately decided that he would be remiss if he passed up the opportunity, so in mid-October 1414, Sigismund's knights arrived at Hus' hideout and delivered him to Constance, as promised. Along the way, hundreds of the reformer's disciples emerged from their homes, jogging alongside him and cheering him on. Little did they know, this would be the last time anyone outside of the council would see him in the flesh.
Just minutes after his climactic arrival at the conference grounds, the same knights who shepherded him to Constance closed in on him and hauled him into the house of a church official. The flummoxed Hus remained captive for a period of eight days before he was relocated to the dungeon of a Dominican monastery on one of the islands off the coast of Lake Constance. To the prisoner's consternation, he remained shackled in this squalid cell, which reeked of stale air and rodent urine, for 4-6 months.
A depiction of Hus at the Council of Constance
On December 4, 1414, about two months into Hus' imprisonment, a pope-appointed committee consisting of a trio of bishops began their preliminary inquiry against the imprisoned reformer. The council, it seemed, made little effort to hide their partiality - the prosecutors, for one, were permitted to present their entire line-up of witnesses, but the disoriented defendant, who was denied a legal adviser, had to fend for himself.
The sudden deposition of Antipope John XXIII was more drama that Hus did not need. Up to this point, Hus sought solace in the visits he was tentatively granted from his friends, but the prisoner suffered yet another devastating blow as a result of the inevitable transition in power. Hus was once again relocated, this time to the Gottlieben Castle in Thurgau, Switzerland, which belonged to the Archbishop of Constance. Hus remained in the frosty and poorly lit cell of the Western Tower for 73 days, and this was presumably the most torturous chapter of Hus' imprisonment. In addition to the deprivation of virtually all human contact, chains weighed down his frail wrists and numb legs day in and day out. He was also appallingly fed, if at all, which led to malnutrition. With his immune system compromised, he became infested with disease.
The first of the official trials against Hus took place on June 5, 1415. To facilitate the process, the ailing prisoner was transferred again to a nearby Franciscan monastery, where he spent his final days on Earth. The editors of Great Site described the proceedings: “[Hus] acknowledged the writings on the Church against his former comrades Palec and Stanislaus as his own, and declared himself willing to recant, if errors should be proven to him. Hus conceded his veneration of Wycliffe, and said that he could only wish his soul might some time attain unto that place where Wycliffe's was. On the other hand, he denied having defended Wycliffe's doctrine of the Lord's Supper, or the forty-five articles; he had only opposed their summary condemnation. [Sigismund] admonished him to deliver himself up to the mercy of the council, as he did not desire to protect a heretic.”
Hus' final trial was set for June 8, 1415. During these proceedings, the prosecutors recited to him 39 sentences, 26 of which were plucked from De Sex Erroribus, 7 of which came from Hus' bitter disquisition on Palec, and 6 of which came from the treatise that targeted Stanislaus. The prosecutors made certain to underscore Wycliffe’s influence on Hus' literature, and the defendant was also made to explain his unauthorized induction of the three slain Hussites into martyrdom. Palec took to the stand and read aloud a passage from Chapter 21 in Hus' De Ecclesia: “[S]imple laymen and priests who are instructed by the grace of God can teach many people through good example and publicly contradict the lies of Antichrist but will perish with the sword. This is to be seen in the case of three laymen who opposed the deceitful helpers of Antichrist and were slain with the sword.” Palec also made reference to the sermon Hus conducted following the execution of the Hussite martyrs, in which he blisteringly referred to the tragedy as “the price for calling into question papal authority.”
According to witnesses, throughout the entirety of his trials, the defendant, though in poor health, remained for the most part either stoic or calm. At one point, the feeble Hus declared before the council, “I would not, for a chapel full of gold, recede from the truth.”
On the fateful Saturday afternoon of July 6, 1415, Hus was given one final opportunity to recant. The prisoner, who was now so weak that he had to be physically supported, refused, effectively signing his death sentence. Thus, the ecumenical council, reportedly with no shortage of pleasure, declared the 46-year-old an “arch-heretic” and sent him on his way to the Constance Cathedral, the scene of his execution. Seven bishops stepped forth from the sidelines and encircled the battered reformer, who had crumpled to his knees. The murmuring bishops spat and called Hus a “cursed Judas” as they forcibly removed his shabby clerical robes, replacing them with robes featuring frightening demons, and sheared off tufts of his greasy, matted hair. “You have been committed to hell,” the bishops told the condemned man. “May God have mercy on your soul.”
A pulsing throng of thousands watched, some whistling and others weeping, as the executioners chained the reformer to a looming stake centered in a bed of kindling (supposedly including pages from Wycliffe's manuscripts). A chilling demonic headdress, its shape reminiscent of a spearhead, was then placed on his crown, most likely to match his unsettling robes.
As they adjusted the headdress, Hus’ executioners repeatedly chanted, “We commit your soul to the devil!” To this, a tearful Hus craned his neck back to gaze at the heavens and responded, “And I commit it to the most merciful Lord Jesus Christ on account of me, a miserable wretch, bore a much heavier and harsher crown of thorns. Being innocent, he was deemed deserving of the most shameful death. Therefore I, a miserable wretch and sinner, will humbly bear this much lighter, even though vilifying crown for His name and truth!”
But Hus was not done. As his executioners tightened his chains, he forced a smile and continued, “My Lord Jesus Christ was bound with a harder chain than this for my sake, and why then should I be ashamed of this rusty old thing?”
As Hus' executioners piled on the kindling, the Duke of Bavaria became so disturbed by the imminent tragedy that he exhorted the reformer to recant, only to be firmly rejected by Hus. “No, I never preached any doctrine of an evil tendency, and what I taught with my lips, I shall now seal with my blood.”
Legend has it that he then turned to his executioners and quipped, “You are now going to burn a goose, but in a century, you will have a swan which you can neither roast nor boil.” There are many who believe that Hus had unwittingly revealed a prophecy - just moments from death, they say, Hus had predicted the rise of Martin Luther. Even more compelling, a swan was featured in some versions of Luther's family seal.
Witnesses recorded Hus' alleged last words: “Let it be known, [with] God as my witness, that I have never taught nor preached what is attributed to me on the testimony of false witnesses. My prime intention in my preaching and all my actions has been to extricate men from sin. I am ready to die with joy in the truth of the gospel, which I have written, taught, and preached in accordance with the tradition of the Holy Doctors.”
With that, the executioners set the kindling ablaze and stepped back, their faces contorting with a mixture of revulsion and horror as the flames consumed the Bohemian martyr. John Foxe, John Malham, and T. Pratt, editors of Fox's Book of Martyrs, Or, The Acts and Monuments of the Christian Church described the final moments of Hus in detail: “The flames were now applied to the [woodpile], when our martyr sung a hymn with so loud and cheerful a voice that he was heard through all the cracklings of the combustiles, and the noise of the multitude. At length his voice was interrupted by the severity of the flames, which soon closed his existence.”
Hus' ashes were later swept up and dumped into the cold, coursing waters of the River Rhine.
Medieval depictions of Hus’ execution
Much like Wycliffe, the death of Hus hardly spelled the end of his influence. Hussites near and far revolted against their local authorities after the murder of their hero, resulting in a series of conflicts fought between 1419 and 1436. The Hussite Wars would also be fought from 1420-1434. Not only did the Hussites emerge triumphant in the Hussite Wars, their numbers swelled in the centuries that followed, and the spirit of the movement lives on today in the Czechoslovak Hussite Church, which parted ways with the Catholic Church on January 8, 1920.
Today, Czechs of all faiths honor the local martyr every July 6, the date of his execution, as Jan Hus Day.
As for his martyrdom, the Catholic Church would formally apologize in 1999 and 2009 for condemning Hus. Pope John Paul II said, “[The Church can only express] our deep regret for the cruel death inflicted on [Hus]...I pray that such ecumenical initiatives will bear fruit not only in order to persevere on the path to Christian unity, but for the good of the entire European society.”
The remorseful sentiments of John Paul II were channeled by Pope Benedict XVI a decade later: “When Europe sits down to listen to the story of Christianity, it hears its own story. Its notion of justice, liberty, and social responsibility, together with the cultural and legal institutions created to defend these ideas and to transmit them to future generations, have been shaped by its Christian legacy...its memory of the past animates its aspirations for the future...”