German Culture Past and Present

E >> Ernest Belfort Bax >> German Culture Past and Present

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FOOTNOTES:

[5] _Saemmtliche Werke_, vol. xxxiii. pp. 322-4.

[6] Quoted in Janssen, _Ein Zweites Wort an meine Kritiker_ 1883, p. 94.

[7] _Geschichte des Deutschen Volkes_, vol. ii. p. 115.

[8] Quoted in Janssen, bk. ii. 162.

CHAPTER II

POPULAR LITERATURE OF THE TIME

In accordance with the conventional view the Reichstag at Worms was a
landmark in the history of the Reformation. This is, however, only
true as regards the political side of the movement. The popular
feeling was really quite continuous, at least from 1517 to 1525. With
the latter year and the collapse of the peasant revolt a change is
noticeable. In 1525 the Reformation, as a great upstirring of the
popular mind of Central Europe, in contradistinction to its character
as an academic and purely political movement, reached high-water mark,
and may almost be said to have exhausted itself. Until the latter year
it was purely a revolutionary movement, attracting to itself all the
disruptive elements of its time. Later, the reactionary possibilities
within it declared themselves. The emancipation from the thraldom of
the Catholic hierarchy and its Papal head, it was soon found, meant
not emancipation from the arbitrary tyranny of the new political and
centralizing authorities then springing up, but, on the contrary,
rather their consecration. The ultimate outcome, in fact, of the whole
business was, as we shall see later on, the inculcation of the
non-resistance theory as regards the civil power, and the clearing of
the way for its extremest expression in the doctrine of the Divine
Right of Kings, a theory utterly alien to the belief and practice of
the Mediaeval Church.

The Reichstag of Worms, by cutting off all possibility of
reconciliation, rather gave further edge to the popular revolutionary
side of the movement than otherwise. The whole progress of the change
in public feeling is plainly traceable in the mass of ephemeral
literature that has come down to us from this period, broadsides,
pamphlets, satires, folk-songs, and the rest. The anonymous literature
to which we more especially refer is distinguished by its coarse
brutality and humour, even in the writings of the Reformers, which
were themselves in no case remarkable for the suavity of their
polemic.

Hutten, in some of his later vernacular poems, approaches the
character of the less-cultured broadside literature. To the critical
mind it is somewhat amusing to note the enthusiasm with which the
modern Dissenting and Puritan class contemplates the period of which
we are writing--an enthusiasm that would probably be effectively
damped if the laudators of the Reformation knew the real character of
the movement and of its principal actors.

The first attacks made by the broadside literature were naturally
directed against the simony and benefice-grabbing of the clergy, a
characteristic of the priestly office that has always powerfully
appealed to the popular mind. Thus the "Courtisan and Benefice-eater"
attacks the parasite of the Roman Court, who absorbs ecclesiastical
revenues wholesale, putting in perfunctory _locum tenens_ on the
cheap, and begins:--

I'm fairly called a Simonist and eke a Courtisan,
And here to every peasant and every common man
My knavery will very well appear.
I called and cried to all who'd give me ear,
To nobleman and knight and all above me:
"Behold me! And ye'll find I'll truly love ye."

In another we read:--

The Paternoster teaches well
How one for another his prayers should tell,
Thro' brotherly love and not for gold,
And good those same prayers God doth hold.
So too saith Holy Paul right clearly,
Each shall his brother's load bear dearly.

But now, it declares, all that is changed. Now we are being taught
just the opposite of God's teachings:--

Such doctrine hath the priests increased,
Whom men as masters now must feast,
'Fore all the crowd of Simonists,
Whose waxing number no man wists,
The towns and thorps seem full of them,
And in all lands they're seen with shame.
Their violence and knavery
Leave not a church or living free.

A prose pamphlet, apparently published about the summer of 1520,
shortly after Luther's ex-communication, was the so-called "Wolf Song"
(_Wolf-gesang_), which paints the enemies of Luther as wolves. It
begins with a screed on the creation and fall of Adam, and a
dissertation on the dogma of the Redemption; and then proceeds: "As
one might say, dear brother, instruct me, for there is now in our
times so great commotion in faith come upon us. There is one in Saxony
who is called Luther, of whom many pious and honest folk tell how that
he doth write so consolingly the good evangelical (_evangelische_)
truth. But again I hear that the Pope and the cardinals at Rome have
put him under the ban as a heretic; and certain of our own preachers,
too, scold him from their pulpits as a knave, a misleader, and a
heretic. I am utterly confounded, and know not where to turn; albeit
my reason and heart do speak to me even as Luther writeth. But yet
again it bethinks me that when the Pope, the cardinal, the bishop, the
doctor, the monk, and the priest, for the greater part are against
him, and so that all save the common men and a few gentlemen, doctors,
councillors, and knights, are his adversaries, what shall I do?" "For
answer, dear friend, get thee back and search the Scriptures, and thou
shalt find that so it hath gone with all the holy prophets even as it
now fareth with Doctor Martin Luther, who is in truth a godly
Christian and manly heart and only true Pope and Apostle, when he the
true office of the Apostles publicly fulfilleth.... If the godly man
Luther were pleasing to the world, that were indeed a true sign that
his doctrine were not from God; for the word of God is a fiery sword,
a hammer that breaketh in pieces the rocks, and not a fox's tail or a
reed that may be bent according to our pleasure." Seventeen noxious
qualities of the wolf are adduced--his ravenousness, his cunning, his
falseness, his cowardice, his thirst for robbery, amongst others. The
Popes, the cardinals, and the bishops are compared to the wolves in
all their attributes: "The greater his pomp and splendour, the more
shouldst thou beware of such an one; for he is a wolf that cometh in
the shape of a good shepherd's dog. Beware! it is against the custom
of Christ and His Apostles." It is again but the song of the wolves
when they claim to mix themselves with worldly affairs and maintain
the temporal supremacy. The greediness of the wolf is discernible in
the means adopted to get money for the building of St. Peter's. The
interlocutor is warned against giving to mendicant priests and monks.

We have given this as a specimen of the almost purely theological
pamphlet; although, as will have been evident, even this is directly
connected with the material abuses from which the people were
suffering. Another pamphlet of about the same date deals with usury,
the burden of which had been greatly increased by the growth of the
new commercial combinations already referred to in the Introduction,
which combinations Dr. Eck had been defending at Bologna on
theological grounds, in order to curry favour with the Augsburg
merchant-prince, Fuggerschwatz.[9] It is called "Concerning Dues.
Hither comes a poor peasant to a rich citizen. A priest comes also
thereby, and then a monk. Full pleasant to read." A peasant visits a
burgher when he is counting money, and asks him where he gets it all
from. "My dear peasant," says the townsman, "thou askest me who gave
me this money. I will tell thee. There cometh hither a peasant, and
beggeth me to lend him ten or twenty gulden. Thereupon I ask him an he
possesseth not a goodly meadow or corn-field. 'Yea! good sir!' saith
he, 'I have indeed a good meadow and a good corn-field. The twain are
worth a hundred gulden.' Then say I to him: 'Good, my friend, wilt
thou pledge me thy holding? and an thou givest me one gulden of thy
money every year I will lend thee twenty gulden now.' Then is the
peasant right glad, and saith he: 'Willingly will I pledge it thee.'
'I will warn thee,' say I, 'that an thou furnishest not the one gulden
of money each year, I will take thy holding for my own having.'
Therewith is the peasant well content, and writeth him down
accordingly. I lend him the money; he payeth me one year, or may be
twain, the due; thereafter can he no longer furnish it, and thereupon
I take the holding, and drive away the peasant therefrom. Thus I get
the holding and the money. The same things do I with handicraftsmen.
Hath he a good house? He pledgeth that house until I bring it behind
me. Therewith gain I much in goods and money, and thus do I pass my
days." "I thought," rejoined the peasant, "that 'twere only the Jew
who did usury, but I hear that ye also ply that trade." The burgher
answers that interest is not usury, to which the peasant replies that
interest (_Guelt_) is only a "subtle name." The burgher then quotes
Scripture, as commanding men to help one another. The peasant readily
answers that in doing this they have no right to get advantage from
the assistance they proffer. "Thou art a good fellow!" says the
townsman. "If I take no money for the money that I lend, how shall I
then increase my hoard?" The peasant then reproaches him that he sees
well that his object in life is to wax fat on the substance of others;
"But I tell thee, indeed," he says, "that it is a great and heavy
sin." Whereupon his opponent waxes wroth, and will have nothing more
to do with him, threatening to kick him out in the name of a thousand
devils; but the peasant returns to the charge, and expresses his
opinion that rich men do not willingly hear the truth. A priest now
enters, and to him the townsman explains the dispute. "Dear peasant,"
says the priest, "wherefore camest thou hither, that thou shouldst
make of a due[10] usury? May not a man buy with his money what he
will?" But the peasant stands by his previous assertion, demanding
how anything can be considered as bought which is only a pledge. "We
priests," replies the ecclesiastic, "must perforce lend moneys for
dues, since thereby we get our living"; to which, after sundry
ejaculations of surprise, the peasant retorts: "Who gave to you the
power? I well hear ye have another God than we poor people. We have
our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath forbidden such money-lending for
gain." Hence it comes, he goes on, that land is no longer free; to
attempt to whitewash usury under the name of due or interest, he says,
is just the same as if one were to call a child christened Friedrich
or Hansel, Fritz or Hans, and then maintain it was no longer the same
child. They require no more Jews, he says, since the Christians have
taken their business in hand. The townsman is once more about to turn
the peasant out of his house when a monk enters. He then lays the
matter before the new-comer, who promises to talk the peasant over
with soft words; for, says he, there is nothing accomplished with
vainglory. He thereupon takes him aside and explains it to him by the
illustration of a merchant whose gain on the wares he sells is not
called usury, and argues that therefore other forms of gain in
business should not be described by this odious name. But the peasant
will have none of this comparison; for the merchant, he says, needs
to incur much risk in order to gain and traffic with his wares; while
money-lending on security is, on the other hand, without risk or
labour, and is a treacherous mode of cheating. Finding that they can
make nothing of the obstinate countryman, the others leave him; but
he, as a parting shot, exclaims: "Ah, well-a-day! I would to have
talked with thee at first, but it is now ended. Farewell, gracious
sir, and my other kind sirs. I, poor little peasant, I go my way.
Farewell, farewell, due remains usury for ever more. Yea, yea! due,
indeed!"

The above specimens of the popular writing of the time must suffice.
But for the reader who wishes to further study this literature we give
the titles, which sufficiently indicate their contents, of a selection
of other similar pamphlets and broadsheets: "A New Epistle from the
Evil Clergy sent to their righteous Lord, with an answer from their
Lord. Most merry to read" (1521). "A Great Prize which the Prince of
Hell, hight Lucifer, now offereth to the Clergy, to the Pope, Bishops,
Cardinals, and their like" (1521). "A Written Call, made by the Prince
of Hell to his dear devoted, of all and every condition in his
kingdom" (1521). "Dialogue or Converse of the Apostolicum, Angelica,
and other spices of the Druggist, anent Dr. Martin Luther and his
disciples" (1521). "A Very Pleasant Dialogue and Remonstrance from the
Sheriff of Gaissdorf and his pupil against the pastor of the same and
his assistant" (1521). The popularity of "Karsthans," an anonymous
tract, amongst the people is illustrated by the publication and wide
distribution of a new "Karsthans" a few months later, in which it is
sought to show that the knighthood should make common cause with the
peasants, the _dramatis personae_ being Karsthans and Franz von
Sickingen. Referring to the same subject we find a "Dialogue which
Franciscus von Sickingen held fore heaven's gate with St. Peter and
the Knights of St. George before he was let in." This was published in
1523, almost immediately after the death of Sickingen. "A Talk between
a Nobleman, a Monk, and a Courtier" (1523). "A Talk between a Fox and
a Wolf" (1523). "A Pleasant Dialogue between Dr. Martin Luther and the
cunning Messenger from Hell" (1523). "A Conversation of the Pope with
his Cardinals of how it goeth with him, and how he may destroy the
Word of God. Let every man very well note" (1523). "A Christian and
Merry Talk, that it is more pleasing to God and more wholesome for men
to come out of the monasteries and to marry, than to tarry therein
and to burn; which talk is not with human folly and the false
teachings thereof, but is founded alone in the holy, divine, biblical,
and evangelical Scripture" (1524). "A Pleasant Dialogue of a Peasant
with a Monk that he should cast his Cowl from him. Merry and fair to
read" (1525).

The above is only a selection taken haphazard from the mass of
fugitive literature which the early years of the Reformation brought
forth. In spite of a certain rough but not unattractive directness of
diction, a prolonged reading of them is very tedious, as will have
been sufficiently seen from the extracts we have given. Their humour
is of a particularly juvenile and obvious character, and consists
almost entirely in the childish device of clothing the personages with
ridiculous but non-essential attributes, or in placing them in
grotesque but pointless situations. Of the more subtle humour, which
consists in the discovery of real but hidden incongruities, and the
perception of what is innately absurd, there is no trace. The obvious
abuses of the time are satirized in this way _ad nauseam_. The
rapacity of the clergy in general, the idleness and lasciviousness of
the monks, the pomp and luxury of the prince-prelates, the
inconsistencies of Church traditions and practices with Scripture,
with which they could now be compared, since it was everywhere
circulated in the vulgar tongue, form their never-ending theme. They
reveal to the reader a state of things that strikes one none the less
in English literature of the period--the intense interest of all
classes in theological matters. It shows us how they looked at all
things through a theological lens. Although we have left this phase of
popular thought so recently behind us, we can even now scarcely
imagine ourselves back into it. The idea of ordinary men, or of the
vast majority, holding their religion as anything else than a very
pious opinion absolutely unconnected with their daily life, public or
private, has already become almost inconceivable to us. In all the
writings of the time, the theological interest is in the forefront.
The economic and social groundwork only casually reveals itself. This
it is that makes the reading of the sixteenth-century polemics so
insufferably jejune and dreary. They bring before us the ghosts of
controversies in which most men have ceased to take any part, albeit
they have not been dead and forgotten long enough to have acquired a
revived antiquarian interest.

The great bombshell which Luther cast forth on June 24, 1520, in his
address to the German nobility,[11] indeed, contains strong appeals to
the economical and political necessities of Germany, and therein we
see the veil torn from the half-unconscious motives that lay behind
the theological mask; but, as already said, in the popular literature,
with a few exceptions, the theological controversy rules undisputed.

The noticeable feature of all this irruption of the _cacoethes
scribendi_ was the direct appeal to the Bible for the settlement not
only of strictly theological controversies but of points of social and
political ethics also. This practice, which even to the modern
Protestant seems insipid and played out after three centuries and a
half of wear, had at that time the to us inconceivable charm of
novelty; and the perusal of the literature and controversies of the
time shows that men used it with all the delight of a child with a new
toy, and seemed never tired of the game of searching out texts to
justify their position. The diffusion of the whole Bible in the
vernacular, itself a consequence of the rebellion against priestly
tradition and the authority of the Fathers, intensified the revolt by
making the pastime possible to all ranks of society.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] See Appendix C.

[10] We use the word "due" here for the German word _Guelt_. The
corresponding English of the time does not make any distinction between
_Guelt_ or interest, and _Wucher_ or usury.

[11] _An der Christlichen Adel deutscher Nation._

CHAPTER III

THE FOLKLORE OF REFORMATION GERMANY

Now in the hands of all men, the Bible was not made the basis of
doctrinal opinions alone. It lent its support to many of the popular
superstitions of the time, and in addition it served as the
starting-point for new superstitions and for new developments of the
older ones. The Pan-daemonism of the New Testament, with its
wonder-workings by devilish agencies, its exorcisms of evil spirits
and the like, could not fail to have a deep effect on the popular
mind. The authority that the book believed to be divinely inspired
necessarily lent to such beliefs gave a vividness to the popular
conception of the devil and his angels, which is apparent throughout
the whole movement of the Reformation, and not least in the utterances
of the great Luther himself. Indeed, with the Reformation there comes
a complete change over the popular conception of the devil and
diabolical influences.

It is true that the judicial pursuit of witches and witchcraft, in
the earlier Middle Ages only a sporadic incident, received a great
impulse from the Bull of Pope Innocent VIII (Dec. 5, 1484), entitled
_Summis Desideruntes_, to which has been given the title of _Malleus
Maleficorum_, or _The Hammer of Sorcerers_, directed against the
practice of witchcraft; but it was especially amongst the men of the
New Spirit that the belief in the prevalence of compacts with the
devil, and the necessity for suppressing them, took root, and led to
the horrible persecutions that distinguished the "Reformed" Churches
on the whole even more than the Catholic.

Luther himself had a vivid belief, tinging all his views and actions,
in the ubiquity of the devil and his myrmidons. "The devils," says he,
"are near us, and do cunningly contrive every moment without ceasing
against our life, our salvation, and our blessedness.... In woods,
waters, and wastes, and in damp, marshy places, there are many devils
that seek to harm men. In the black and thick clouds, too, there are
some that make storms, hail, lightning, and thunder, that poison the
air and the pastures. When such things happen, the philosophers and
the physicians ascribe them to the stars, and show I know not what
causes for such misfortunes and plagues." Luther relates numerous
instances of personal encounters that he himself had had with the
devil. A nobleman invited him, with other learned men from the
University of Wittenberg, to take part in a hare hunt. A large, fine
hare and a fox crossed the path. The nobleman, mounted on a strong,
healthy steed, dashed after them, when, suddenly, his horse fell dead
beneath him, and the fox and the hare flew up in the air and vanished.
"For," says Luther, "they were devilish spectres."

Again, on another occasion, he was at Eisleben on the occasion of
another hare-hunt, when the nobleman succeeded in killing eight hares,
which were, on their return home, duly hung up for the next day's
meal. On the following morning, horses' heads were found in their
place. "In mines," says Luther, "the devil oftentimes deceives men
with a false appearance of gold." All disease and all misfortune were
the direct work of the devil; God, who was all good, could not produce
either. Luther gives a long history of how he was called to a parish
priest, who complained of the devil's having created a disturbance in
his house by throwing the pots and pans about, and so forth, and of
how he advised the priest to exorcise the fiend by invoking his own
authority as a pastor of the Church.

At the Wartburg, Luther complained of having been very much troubled
by the Satanic arts. When he was at work upon his translation of the
Bible, or upon his sermons, or engaged in his devotions, the devil was
always making disturbances on the stairs or in the room. One day,
after a hard spell of study, he lay down to sleep in his bed, when the
devil began pelting him with hazel-nuts, a sack of which had been
brought to him a few hours before by an attendant. He invoked,
however, the name of Christ, and lay down again in bed. There were
other more curious and more doubtful recipes for driving away Satan
and his emissaries. Luther is never tired of urging that contemptuous
treatment and rude chaff are among the most efficacious methods.

There was, he relates, a poor soothsayer, to whom the devil came in
visible form, and offered great wealth provided that he would deny
Christ and never more do penance. The devil provided him with a
crystal, by which he could foretell events, and thus become rich. This
he did; but Nemesis awaited him, for the devil deceived him one day,
and caused him to denounce certain innocent persons as thieves. In
consequence, he was thrown into prison, where he revealed the compact
that he had made, and called for a confessor. The two chief forms in
which the devil appeared were, according to Luther, those of a snake
and a sheep. He further goes into the question of the population of
devils in different countries. On the top of the Pilatus at Luzern, he
says, is a black pond, which is one of the devil's favourite abodes.
In Luther's own country there is also a high mountain, the
Poltersberg, with a similar pond. When a stone is thrown into this
pond, a great tempest arises, which often devastates the whole
neighbourhood. He also alleges Prussia to be full of evil spirits
(!!).

Devilish changelings, Luther said, were often placed by Satan in the
cradles of human children. "Some maids he often plunges into the
water, and keeps them with him until they have borne a child." These
children are placed in the beds of mortals, and the true children are
taken out and hurried away. "But," he adds, "such changelings are said
not to live more than to the eighteenth or nineteenth year." As a
practical application of this, it may be mentioned that Luther advised
the drowning of a certain child of twelve years old, on the ground of
its being a devil's changeling. Somnambulism is, with Luther, the
result of diabolical agency. "Formerly," says he, "the Papists, being
superstitious people, alleged that persons thus afflicted had not been
properly baptized, or had been baptized by a drunken priest." The
irony of the reference to superstition, considering the "great
reformer's" own position, will not be lost upon the reader.

Thus, not only is the devil the cause of pestilence, but he is also
the immediate agent of nightmare and of nightsweats. At Moelburg in
Thueringen, near Erfurt, a piper, who was accustomed to pipe at
weddings, complained to his priest that the devil had threatened to
carry him away and destroy him, on the ground of a practical joke
played upon some companions, to wit, for having mixed horse-dung with
their wine at a drinking bout. The priest consoled him with many
passages of Scripture anent the devil and his ways, with the result
that the piper expressed himself satisfied as regarded the welfare of
his soul, but apprehensive as regarded that of his body, which was, he
asserted, hopelessly the prey of the devil. In consequence of this, he
insisted on partaking of the Sacrament. The devil had indicated to him
when he was going to be fetched, and watchers were accordingly placed
in his room, who sat in their armour and with their weapons, and read
the Bible to him. Finally, one Saturday at midnight, a violent storm
arose, that blew out the lights in the room, and hurled the luckless
victim out of a narrow window into the street. The sound of fighting
and of armed men was heard, but the piper had disappeared. The next
morning he was found in a neighbouring ditch, with his arms stretched
out in the form of a cross, dead and coal-black. Luther vouches for
the truth of this story, which he alleges to have been told him by a
parish priest of Gotha, who had himself heard it from the parish
priest of Moelburg, where the event was said to have taken place.

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