Wolfgang Musculus (Mäuslin), an Evangelical theologian, in the account of a journey in May, 1536, during which he had visited Luther, gives an interesting and unbiassed report of what he saw at Wittenberg.[981]On May 29, Luther came, bringing with him Melanchthon and Lucas Cranach, to dine as Mäuslin’s guest at the inn where he was staying. There all had their share of the wine. “When dinner was over,” says the chronicler, “we all went to the house of Master Lucas, the painter, where we had another drink....[982]After this we escorted Luther home, where we drank in true Saxon style. He was marvellously cheerful and promised everything most readily” (i.e. probably all that Musculus proposed concerning the agreement to be come to with the Zwinglians, of whom Musculus was one). The allusion to the “Saxon style” reminds us of Count Hoyer’s reference to the “custom at Mansfeld” (vol. ii., p. 131). Luther’s country does not seem to have been noted for its temperance.Melanchthon, as one of his pupils relates in the “Dicta Melanchthoniana,” tells how on a certain day in March, 1523: “Before dinner (‘ante coenam’)” Luther, with two intimates, Justus Jonas and Jacob Probst, the Pastor of Bremen, arrived at Schweinitz near Wittenberg. Here, owing to indigestion, “cruditas,” Luther was sick in a room. In order to remove the bad impression made on the servant who had to clean the apartment, Jonas said: “Do not be surprised, my good fellow, the Doctor does this sort of thing every day.” By this he certainly did not mean, as some have thought, that Luther was in the habit of being sick every day as the result of drink; he was merely trying to shield his friend in an embarrassing situation by alleging a permanent illness. Pastor Probst, however, according to Melanchthon’s story, betrayed Jonas by exclaiming: “What a fine excuse!” Jonas thereupon seized him by the throat and said: “Hold your tongue!” At table the pastor was anxious to return to the matter, but Jonas was able to cut him short. Melanchthon concludes the story with a touch ofsarcasm: “Hoc est quando posteriora intelliguntur ex prioribus.” Was the sickness in this case due to previous drinking?A letter, written by Luther himself, perhaps will help to explain the matter. On the eve of his return to Wittenberg he writes from Schweinitz on Oculi Sunday, March 8, 1523, to his friend the Court Chaplain Spalatin, that he had come to Schweinitz, where the Elector’s castle stood, in order to celebrate with the father the baptism of the son of a convert Jew named Bernard. “We drank good, pure wine from the Elector’s cellar,” he says; “we should indeed be grand Evangelicals if we feasted to the same extent on the Evangel.... Please excuse us to the Prince for having drunk so much of his Grüneberger wine (‘quod tantum vini Gornbergici ligurierimus’). Jonas and his wife greet you, also the godfathers, godmothers and myself; three virgins were present, certainly Jonas, for, as he has no child, we call him a virgin.”[983]The letter, curiously disconnected and containing such strange jests, quite gives the impression of having been written after such a festive gathering as that described by the writer.In connection with Melanchthon’s story some Protestants have recently urged that, in 1523, Luther was subject to attacks of “sudden indisposition” which came on him in the morning and from which he found relief in vomiting, and that the above incident is explained by this circumstance; the fact that he was sick “before the meal and after a lengthy drive proves that we have to do with a result not of intemperance but of nervous irritation.” Of such “sudden indispositions” arising from nervousness we, however, hear nothing, either during that year or for long after. None of the sources mention anything of the kind. On the contrary, at Whitsun, 1523, Luther wrote to Nicholas Hausmann that he felt “fairly well” (“satis bene valeo”); that he was of a nervous temperament is of course true, but that the morning hours were, as a rule, his worst we only begin to learn from his letters in 1530 and 1532; there, moreover, he does not mention sickness, but merely “giddiness and the attacks of Satan,” which were wont to come on him before breakfast, (“prandium,”[984]a meal taken about 9 or 10 a.m.). Melanchthon’s story speaks, however, not of the morning at all, but of the time before the “coena” (i.e. the principal meal, taken about 5 p.m.), when Luther was presumably no longer fasting.Still, it would be better not to lay too much stress on this isolated particular incident.[985]Next in the series of statements coming from preachers of the new Evangel, we meet that of Johann Agricola, who, accordingto Thiele, in the recently discovered notes of his (above, p. 216), when he had already separated from Luther, represents him as a “drunken profligate,” “who gave the rein to his passions and whom only his wife’s sway could influence for good.” Agricola says that Luther had contemptuously put aside certain letters of his, but “at last read them one morning before the wine had mounted to his head (‘mane, nondum vino calefactus’). Then he showed himself willing to take me into favour again”; this being the result of Katey’s intercession.After this we have the testimony of the Swiss theologian, Leo Judæ, who, as Kolde tells us,[986]in the letter to Bucer quoted above (p. 277) and dated April 24, 1534, “reproaches Luther with drunkenness and all manner of things, and declares that such a bishop he would not tolerate even in the tiniest diocese.”Valentine Ickelsamer, in 1525, voices the “fanatics,” whom Luther was attacking so vigorously, in his complaint, that the latter was “careless and heedless amidst all our needs, and spent his time in utter unconcern with the beer-swillers”; before this he had already said: “I am well acquainted with your behaviour, having been for a while a student at Wittenberg; I will, however, say nothing of your gold finger-ring, which gives scandal to so many people, or of the pleasant room overlooking the water where you drink and make merry with the other doctors and gentlemen.”[987]Neither Ickelsamer nor his friends formulate against Luther any explicit charge of startling or habitual excess. His daily habits, as just depicted, seemed to them to be at variance with his claim to being a divinely appointed preacher, called to raise mankind to higher things, but this was chiefly on account of their own peculiar narrow mysticism. It was from the same standpoint that, wishing to absolve himself from the charge of “inciting to rebellion,” Thomas Münzer, in 1524, writes in his “Schutzrede”[988]against the “witless, wanton lump of flesh at Wittenberg,” also twitting Luther with his “luxurious living” (vol. ii., p. 131), i.e. the daintiness of his food.With regard to Simon Lemnius, it will suffice to refer to the passage already adduced (p. 274): “Luther boasts of being an evangelical bishop; how then comes it that he lives so far from temperately, being wont to surfeit himself with food and drink?” It is unnecessary to repeat how much caution must be exercised in appealing to this writer’s statements.Among Catholic critics the first place is taken by the theologian, Ambrosius Catharinus, an Italian who lived far from Germany. His statement regarding Luther’s dancing and drinking has already been given (p. 276). This, together with many other ofhis strictures[989]on Luther’s teaching and work, were collected by Cochlæus. Catharinus was present at the Council of Trent from 1546-1547 and such reports as these may there have reached his ears. That Luther danced, or as Catharinus says, even led the dances, is not vouched for in any source. Only concerning Melanchthon have we a credible report, that he “sometimes danced.” On the other hand, we do know that Luther was frequently present at balls, weddings, christenings and other such occasions when food and drink were to be had in plenty. So distinguished and pleasant a guest was naturally much in demand, as Luther himself tells us on several occasions.Luther’s letter to Spalatin, on January 14, 1524, concerning the (real or imaginary) agent sent by King Ferdinand to enquire into his life at Wittenberg, also speaks of the report carried to Court of his intercourse with women and habits of drunkenness (vol. ii., p. 132 f.).Shortly before, in 1522, Count Hoyer of Mansfeld, a Catholic, wrote in a letter to Count Ulrich of Helfenstein, brought to light by a Protestant historian, “that Luther was a thorough scoundrel, who drank deeply, as was the custom at Mansfeld, played the lute, etc.” (vol. ii., p. 131). If, as we find recounted elsewhere, Luther, on his journey to the Diet, and at Worms itself, partook freely of the costly wines in which his enthusiastic friends pledged him, this was, after all, no great crime. It is probable, however, that some worse tales to Luther’s discredit in this matter of drinking had come to Hoyer’s ear.At the time of the Diet of Worms, Aleander, the Papal Legate there present, indeed writes that Luther was “addicted to drunkenness,”[990]but the credulous diplomat probably trusted to what he heard from parties hostile to Luther and little acquainted with him. (See vol. ii., p. 78 f.) It is also a fact that, to Italians imbued with the idea that the Germans were drunkards, even quite moderate drinking might seem scandalous.Cochlæus says of Luther in 1524: “According to what I hear, in his excessive indulgence in beer, Luther is worse than a debauchee.”[991]Here again we have merely an echo of statements made by strangers, albeit in this instance stronger and more positive.—Less weight is to be attached to the account of Jacob Ziegler of Landau, who writes from Rome to Erasmus on February 16, 1522, that there Luther was regarded as “given to fornication and tippling,” adding that he was considered as the precursor of Antichrist.[992]—Of the inhabitants of Wittenberg generally Ulrich Zasius complains, in a letter of December 21,1521, to Thomas Blaurer, that it was reported they ran almost daily to communion but afterwards swilled beer to such an extent that they were unable to recognise each other.[993]To his other charges against the life led there and against the heads of the movement, Blaurer replied, but, curiously enough, the complaint of drunkenness he does not even refer to.[994]From the detailed description given by a Catholic Canon of Wittenberg on December 29, 1521, we do, however, learn that the greatest abuses prevailed in connection with the Supper, and that some even communicated who had previously been indulging in brandy.[995]The last witness had nothing to say of Luther personally. On the other hand, another does state that, the night before his death, he was “plane obrutus potu.” This, however, comes from a later writer, who lived far away and has shown himself otherwise untrustworthy.[996]Another less unreliable report also has to do with Luther’s death-bed. Johann Landau, the Mansfeld apothecary, who was a Catholic, and had occasion to handle Luther’s corpse, left the following in the notes he made: “In consequence of excessive eating and drinking the body was full of corrupt juices,” Luther had “exceeded in the use of sweet foreign wines.” “It is said,” he continues, “that he drank every day at noon and in the evening a sextar of rich foreign wine.”[997]This statement does not appear to be restricted to the last days of Luther’s life, which were spent with Count Mansfeld. It is well known that Luther died after a meal. What amount the “sextar” and the “stuebchen,” to be mentioned immediately, represented has not yet been determined, as the measures differed so much in various parts of the country. The sextar, according to G. Agricola, was usually a quarter of the stuebchen, as, according to him, twenty-four sextars or six stuebchen went to one amphora; the sextar itself contained four gills.[998]In a letter of Luther’s, dating from the period of his stay at Mansfeld, we find the following: “We live well here,” he writes to Katey, “and the council allows me for each meal half a gallon of excellent Rheinfall. Sometimes I drink it with my companions. The wine produced here is also good and the Naumburg beer quite capital.”[999]Rheinfall (more correctly Reinfal) was a southern wine then highly prized.[1000]Luther, as a rule, preferred to keep to Naumburg beer.[1001]Luther’s Own Comments on the “Good Drink.”The following statements of Luther’s concerning his indulgence in spirituous liquors are especially noteworthy; of these some have been quoted without sufficient attention being paid to their real meaning.“Know that all goes well with me here,” Luther writes in 1540 from Weimar to his Katey, who was anxious about him; “I feed like a Bohemian, and swill like a German, for which God be thanked, Amen.”[1002]Soon after he repeats, in a letter to the same addressee, the phrase which has since grown famous, this time in a slightly amended form: Know “that we are well and cheerful here, thanks be to God; we feed like Bohemians, though not too much, and swill like Germans, not deeply but with jollity.”[1003]He is fond of thus speaking of his “feeding and swilling,” though, such expressions being less unconventional then than now, stress must not be laid on them. In both letters he was clearly seeking by his jests to reassure his wife, who was concerned for his health. During his last weeks at Eisleben he also wrote to Katey: “We have plenty on which to feed and swill.”[1004]“If the Lord God holds me excused,” he says in a famous utterance in the Table-Talk, “for having plagued Him for quite twenty years by celebrating Mass, He assuredly will excuse me for sometimes indulging in a drink to His honour; God grant it and let the world take it as it will.”[1005]Of the last decade of Luther’s life his pupil Mathesius relates, that, in the evening, “if not inclined for sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing: ‘You young fellows must not mind if our Elector and an old chap like me take a generous drink; we have to try and find our pillow and our bolster in the tankard.’”[1006]The same witness relates another utterance of about the same time: “He came home from a party anddrank the health of a guest: ‘I must make merry to-day, for I have received bad tidings; for this there is no better cure than a fervent Paternoster and a brave heart. For the demon of melancholy is much put out when a man insists upon being merry.’”[1007]Here we have two reasons, want of sleep and depression resulting from bad news, which induced him to have a “good drink.” A third reason was furnished by his temptations to doubt and vacillate in faith. The “good drink” must not, however, be too deep as it “recently was at the Electoral couchee at Torgau, where, not satisfied with the usual measures, they pledged each other in half-gallon cans. That they called a good drink.Sic inventa lege inventa est et fraus legis.”[1008]Luther’s advice to his pupil Hieronymus Weller, when the latter was tempted and troubled, as stated above (p. 175), was to follow his example and “to drink deeper and jest more freely,” and to answer the devil when he objected to such drinking, that “he would drink all the more because he forbade it”; he himself (Luther), for no other reason, was wont to drink more deeply and talk more freely than to scorn the devil by his “hard drinking.”[1009]“When troubled with gloomy thoughts,” he declared on another occasion, it was his habit “to have a good pull at the beer”; Melanchthon had a different sort of remedy, viz. consulting the stars; Luther, however, considered his practice the better one.[1010]These and such-like utterances circulated far and wide, often in a highly exaggerated form, and Luther had only himself to thank if many Catholics, on the strength of them, came to regard him as a regular drunkard. This impression was in no way diminished by the rough humour which accompanied his talk of eating and drinking. People then were perfectly acquainted with the fact that the Table-Talk was regarded, even by some enthusiastic Lutherans, as only a half revelation, the truth being that they did not make sufficient allowance for Luther’s vein of humour and exaggeration.It was, however, quite seriously that Luther spoke inAugust, 1540, when the excessive drinking of the miners was discussed at table: “It is not well,” he said, “but if they work hard for the rest of the week, then we must allow them some relaxation (at the week-end). Their work is hard and very dangerous and some allowance must be made for the custom of the country. I, too, have an occasional tipple, but not everybody must follow my example, for not all have the work to do that I have.”[1011]Here, accordingly, we have a fourth reason alleged in excuse of his drinking, possibly the most usual and practical one, viz. his fatiguing work.—In May of the same year he expressed his opinion of the extent to which drinking might be allowable in certain circles; this he did because he had been accused of not reproving drunkenness at the Court: “On the contrary,” he says, “I have spoken strongly about it before the whole Court; truly I spoke forcibly and severely to the nobles, reproaching them with tempting and corrupting the Prince. This greatly pleased the old gentleman [the Elector Johann], for he lived temperately.... I said to the nobles: ‘You ought to employ yourselves after dinner in the Palæstra or in some other good exercise, after which you might have a good drink, for drinking is permissible, but drunkenness never (ebrietas est ferenda, sed ebriositas minime).’”[1012]“Cheerful people,” he said in May or June, “may sometimes indulge more freely in wine,” but if drinking makes a man angry, he must avoid it like “poison.” These words were meant for his nephew, Hans Polner, who was in the habit of returning to Luther’s house much the worse for drink. With him Luther was very wroth: “On your account I am ill-spoken of by foreigners. My foes spy out everything that goes on about me.... When you do some mischief while drunk, you forget what shame you are bringing not only upon me and on my house, but on the town, the Church and the Evangel. Others after a drinking-boutare merry and friendly; such was the case with my father; they simply sing and jest; but you, you fly into a rage.”[1013]Luther, when preaching to the people, often denounced the prevalent habit of drinking, a circumstance which must not be overlooked when passing judgment upon him. The German vice of drunkenness which he saw increasing around him in the most alarming manner caused him such distress, that he exclaimed in one of his postils: “Our poor German land is chastised and plagued with this devil of drink, and altogether drowned in this vice, so that life and limb, possessions and honour, are shamefully lost while people lead the life of swine, so that, had we to depict Germany, we should have to show it under the image of a sow.”[1014]Only “the little children, virgins and women” were exempt from the malady; “unless God strikes at this vice by a national calamity everything will go down to the abyss, all sodden through and through with drink.”[1015]Was this the way to be grateful “to the light of the Evangel” which had burst upon Germany?[1016]His question shows that he was speaking primarily of the conditions prevailing under the new Evangel. Looking back on the Catholic past he has perforce to admit, that, although this vice was by no means unknown then, yet “I remember that when I was young it [drunkenness] was looked upon by the nobility as a great shame, and that worthy gentry and Princes sought to combat it by wise prohibitions and penalties; but now it is even worse and more prevalent amongst them than amongst the peasants; so far has it come that even Princes and men of gentle birth learn it from their squires, and are not ashamed of it; it is regarded as honourable and quite a virtue by Princes, nobles and burghers, so that whosoever refuses to become a sodden brute is despised.”[1017]In powerful passages such as these he assails the vice from both the natural and the supernatural standpoint. Yet his chief complaint is not so much its existence as its appalling extent; his reproofs are intended for those who “get drunk daily,” for those “maddened and sodden with drink,” for those who “day and night are ever pouring theliquor down their throats.” He expressly states that he is willing to be lenient in cases where a man is drunk only now and again. “It may be borne with and overlooked,” he says in the sermon quoted, “if from time to time a person by mistake takes a glass too much, or, after being exhausted by labour and toil, gets a little the worse for drink.”[1018]In 1534, in an exposition of Psalm ci., where he describes the doings of the “Secular Estate,” he is no less hopeless concerning this plague which afflicts Germany: “Every country must have its own devil; our German devil is a good skin of wine and surely his name is Swill”; until the last day eternal thirst would remain the German’s curse; it was quite useless to seek to remedy matters, Swill still remained the all-powerful god.[1019]More dignified language would assuredly have been better in place here and elsewhere where he deals with this subject. For quaint homeliness it would, however, be hard to beat him; referring to their drinking habits, he tells the great men at the Court: “In the morning you really look as though your heads had been pickled in brine.”[1020]Yet, from the very passage in the Table-Talk where this is recounted, we learn that he said to the guests, again in a far too indulgent strain: “The Lord God must account the drunkenness of us Germans a mere daily [i.e. venial] sin, for we are unable to give it up; nevertheless, it is a shameful curse, harmful alike to body, soul and property.”Witnesses to Luther’s Temperate Habits.Within Luther’s camp the chief witnesses to his temperate habits are Melanchthon and Mathesius.Melanchthon in his formal panegyric on the deceased says, that “though a stout man, he was very moderate in eating and drinking (‘natura valde modici cibi et potus’). I have seen him, when quite in good health, abstaining entirely from food and drink for four days. At other times I frequently saw him content himself for many days with a little bread with kippers.”[1021]His four days’ abstinence, however, probably coincided with one of his attacks—“temptations,” which, as we know from Ratzeberger, his medical adviser, were usually accompanied by intense dislike for food. Besides, before his marriage, Lutherhad not the same attention and care he received later from his wife. It is not unlikely that Melanchthon was thinking of this period when he speaks of the “bread and kippers,” for the passage really refers to the beginning of his acquaintanceship with Luther, possibly even to his monastic days. However this may be, we must not forget that the clause is part of a panegyric.Mathesius, Luther’s attentive pupil and admirer, says of him in his sermons, that Luther, “although he was somewhat corpulent, ate and drank little and rarely anything out of the common, but contented himself with ordinary food. In the evening, if not inclined to sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing.”[1022]That Luther was perfectly content “without anything out of the common” is confirmed by other writers, and concerning the general frugality of his household there can be no question. In this respect we may well believe what Mathesius says, for he was a regular attendant at Luther’s evening table in the forties of the century. His assertion that Luther “drank but little” must, however, be considered in the light of other of his statements.What Mathesius thought of the “sleeping-draught” and the feasts at which, so he relates, Luther assisted from time to time, appears from a discourse incorporated by him in his “Wedding-sermons.” Here he speaks of the “noble juice of the grape and how we can make use of it in a godly fashion and with a good conscience”; he is simply the mouthpiece of Luther. Like Luther, he condemns gluttony and “bestial drunkenness,” but is so indulgent in the matter of cheerful carousing that a Protestant Canon in the eighteenth century declared, that Mathesius had gone astray in his sermon on the use of wine.[1023]Mathesius says that we must have “a certain amount of patience” with those who sometimes, for some quite valid reason, “get a little tipsy,” or “kick over the traces,” provided they “don’t do so every day” and that “the next morning they are heartily sorry for it”; the learned were quite right in distinguishing between “ebriositas” and “ebrietas”; if a ruling Prince had worked industriously all day, or a scholar had “read and studied till his head swam,” such busy and much-tired people, if they chose “in the evening to drinkaway their cares and heavy thoughts, must be permitted some over-indulgence, particularly if it does not hinder them in the morning from praying, studying and working.”[1024]This is the exact counterpart of Luther’s theory and practice as already described, in the distinction made between “ebriositas” and “ebrietas,” in the statement that drunkenness is no more than a venial sin, in the unseemly and jocose tone employed when speaking of tipsiness, and in the license accorded those who (like Luther) had much work to do, or (again, like Luther), were plagued with “gloomy thoughts.” The other conditions are also noteworthy, viz. that it must not be of “daily occurrence” and that the offender must afterwards be “heartily sorry”; in such a case we must be tolerant. All this agrees with Luther’s own teaching.Such passages, coming from the master and his devoted disciple, must be taken as the foundation on which to base our judgment. Such general statements of principle must carry more weight than isolated instances of Luther’s actual practice, more even than the various testimonies considered above. In the eyes of the impartial historian, moreover, the various elements will be seen to fit into each other so as to form a whole, the elements being on the one hand the highly questionable principle we have just heard expressed, and on the other his own admissions concerning his practice, supplemented by the testimony of outsiders.In the first place, there is no doubt that his theory was dangerously lax. We need only call to mind the string of reasons given in vindication of a “good drink” and mere “ebrietas.” Such excuses were not only insufficient but might easily be adduced daily in ever-increasing number. Luther’s limitation of the permission to occasional bouts, etc., was altogether illusory and constituted no real barrier against excess. How could such theories, we may well ask, promote temperance and self-denial? Instead of resisting the lower impulses of nature they give the reins to license.They are part and parcel of the phenomenon so noticeable in early Lutheranism, where Christian endeavour, owing to the discredit with which penance and good works were overwhelmed, was not allowed to rise above the level of ordinary life, and indeed often failed to attain even to this standard. How different sound the injunctions of Christ and His Apostles to the devoted followers of the true Gospel: Take up thy cross; resist the flesh and all its lusts; be sober and watch.The result as regards Luther’s practice must on the whole be considered as unfavourable, though it is not of course so well known to us as his theory. It may also, quite possibly, have varied at different periods of his life, for instance, may not have been the same when Mathesius was acquainted with him, i.e. when his mode of life had become more regular, as when Count Hoyer of Mansfeld wrote so scornfully after the Diet of Worms. Nevertheless, Luther’s vigorous denunciation of habitual drunkenness on the one hand, and the extraordinary amount of work he contrived to get through on the other, also the absence of any very damaging or definite charge by those who had every opportunity of observing him at Wittenberg, for instance, the hostile Anabaptists and other “sectarians,” all this leads us to infer, that he availed himself of his theories only to a very limited extent. His own statements, however, as well as those of his friends and opponents, enable us to see that his lax principle, “ebrietas est ferenda,” was not without its effects upon his habits of life. The allegation of his joy of living, and his healthy love of the things of sense, does not avail to explain away his own admissions, nor what others laid to his charge. The worst of it is, that we gain the impression that the lax theory was conceived to suit his own case, for all the reasons which he held to excuse the “good drink” and the subsequent “ebrietas” were present in his case—depression caused by bad news, cares and gloomy thoughts, pressure of work, temptations to sadness and doubts, sleeplessness and mental exhaustion.From the Cellar and the Tap-Room.The task remains of considering certain further traits in Luther’s life with regard to his indulgence in drinking.During the first part of his public career Luther himselfspeaks of the temptation to excessive eating and drinking and other bad habits to which he was exposed. This he did in 1519 in his remarkably frank confession to his superior Staupitz.[1025]Here the expression “crapula” must be taken more seriously than on another occasion when, in a letter to a friend written from the Wartburg in the midst of his arduous labours, he describes himself as “sitting idle, and ‘crapulosus.’”[1026]After Luther’s marriage, when he had settled down comfortably in the Black Monastery, it was Catherine, who, agreeably with the then custom, brewed the beer at home. It seems, however, to have been of inferior quality, indeed not fit to set before his guests. That he had several sorts of wine in his cellar we learn on the occasion of the marriage of his niece Lena in 1538. He complains that in Germany it was very hard to buy “a really trustworthy drink,” as even the carriers adulterated the wines on the way.[1027]As already stated, beer was his usual drink. Whilst he was “drinking Wittenberg beer with Philip and Amsdorf,” he said as early as 1522, in a well-known passage, “the Papacy had been weakened through the Word of God” which he had preached.[1028]It was, however, with wine that on great occasions the ample “Catechismusglas” (see above, p. 219) was filled.[1029]How much this bowl contained which Luther, though not his guest Agricola, could empty at one draught, has not been determined, though illustrations of it were thought to exist. Agricola’s statement concerning his vain attempt to drain it leads us to conclude that the famous glass was of considerable size. It impresses one strangely to learn that Luther occasionally toasted his guests in a crystal beakerreputed to have once belonged to St. Elizabeth of Hungary; this too, no doubt, passed from hand to hand.[1030]An example of Luther’s accustomed outspokenness was witnessed by some of those who happened to be present on the arrival of a Christmas gift of wine in 1538. The cask came from the Margrave of Brandenburg and, to the intense disappointment of the recipient, contained Franconian wine. Luther, in spite of the importance of the gift, made no secret of his annoyance, and his complaints would appear to have duly reached the ear of the Margrave. In order to efface the bad impression made at Court, Luther was obliged to send a letter of excuse to Sebastian Heller, the Chancellor. Therein he says he had been quite unaware of the excellence of Franconian wine, and, “like the big fool” he was, had not known that the inhabitants of Franconia were so fortunate in their wine as now, after tasting it, he had ascertained to be the case. In future he was going to stick to Franconian wine; to the Prince he sent his best thanks and trusted he would take nothing amiss.[1031]—From the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, after he had forwarded him his memorandum regarding his bigamy, he received a hogshead of Rhine wine.[1032]In the same year he received from the Town Council of Wittenberg a present of a gallon of Franconian “and four quarts of Gutterbogk wine” on the occasion of the marriage of his niece, mentioned above.From the magistrates, in addition to other presents, came frequent gifts of liquor for himself and his guests, of which we find the entries since 1519 recorded in the Town-registers.Only recently has attention been drawn to this.[1033]In 1525 we find the following items: “7 Gulden for six cans of Franconian wine at 14 Groschen the quart presentedDoctori Martinoon his engagement; 136 Gulden, 6 Groschen for a barrel of Einbeck beer presentedDoctori Martinofor his wedding; 440 GuldenDoctori Martinofor wine and beer presented by the Council and the town on the occasion of his nuptials and wedding. Fine of 120 Gulden paid by Clara, wedded wife of Lorenz Eberhard dwelling at Jessen for abusive language concerning Doctor Martin and his honourable wife, and also for abusing the Pastor’s [Bugenhagen] wife at Master Lubeck’s wedding; 136 Gulden, 2 Groschen for wine sent for during the year by Doctor Martin from the town vaults and paid for by the Council.” In addition to the various “presents” made by the Council, we meet repeatedly in other years with items recording deliveries of beer or wine which Luther had sent for from the town cellar. These are entered as “owing.... The Council loath to sue him for them....” And again, “allowed to Doctor Martin this year....”This explains the low items for liquor in Luther’s own list of household expenses, which were frequently quoted in proof of his exceptional abstemiousness. As a matter of fact, they are so small simply owing to the presents and to his requisitions on the town cellars, for much of which he never paid. “Four pfennigs daily for drink” we read in his household accounts in a Gotha MS., the date of which is uncertain.[1034]Seeing that at Wittenberg a can of beer cost 3 pfennigs, this would allow him very little. According to another entry Katey required 56 pfennigs weekly for making the beer; the date of this is equally uncertain. It is to the filial devotion of Protestant researchers that we owe this information.[1035]Luther was in a particularly cheerful mood when he wrote, on March 18, 1535, the letter, already quoted (p. 296 f.), to his friend Caspar Müller, the Mansfeld Chancellor at Eisleben. The letter is to some extent a humorous one, but is it really a fact that in the last of the three signatures appended he qualifies himself as “Doctor plenus”?[1036]According to some controversialists such is the case.It is true that Denifle says of this signature, now-preserved with the letter in the Vatican Library,[1037]“that the badlywritten and scarcely legible word ... either reads or might be read as ‘plenus.’”[1038]According to R. Reitzenstein, on the other hand, who also studied them, the characters cannot possibly be read thus. E. Thiele, who mentions this, suggests[1039]that perhaps we might read it as “Doctor Hans,” and that the signature in question might refer to Luther’s little son who was with him and whose greetings with those of the mother Luther sends at the end of the letter to Müller, who was the child’s godfather.First comes the legible signature “Doctor Martinus” in Luther’s handwriting; below this, also quite legible, stands “Doctor Luther,” possibly denoting his wife, as Thiele very reasonably conjectures; finally we have the questionable “Doctor plenus.” To read “Hans” instead of “plenus,” is, according to Denifle, “quite out of the question,” as I also found when I came to examine the facsimile published by G. Evers in 1883.[1040]On the other hand, to judge by the facsimile, it appeared to me that “Johannes” might possibly be the true reading, and the Latin form also seemed to agree with that of the previous signatures. When I was able to examine the original in Rome in May, 1907, I convinced myself that, as a matter of fact, the badly formed and intertwined characters could be read as “Johannes”; this reading was also confirmed by Alfredo Monaci, the palæologist.[1041]Hence the reading “Doctor plenus,” too confidently introduced by Evers and repeated by Enders, though with a query, in his edition of Luther’s letters, may safely be consigned to oblivion. Evenhad it been correct, it would merely have afforded a fresh example of Luther’s jokes at his own expense, and would not necessarily have proved that his mirth was due to spirituous influence.In one letter of Luther’s, which speaks of the time he passed in the Castle of Coburg, we hear more of the disagreeable than of the cheering effects of wine.“I have brought on headache by drinking old wine in the Coburg,” he complains to his friend Wenceslaus Link, “and this our Wittenberg beer has not yet cured. I work little and am forced to be idle against my will because my head must have a rest.”[1042]In the Electoral accounts 25 Eimer of wine are set down for the period of Luther’s stay at the Coburg;[1043]seeing that he and two companions spent only 173 days there, our Protestant friends have hastened to allege “the frequent visits he received” in the Coburg.[1044]It is true that he had a good many visitors during the latter part of his stay. However this may be, the illness showed itself as early as May, 1530. His own diagnosis here is no less unsatisfactory than the accounts concerning the other maladies from which he suffered. No doubt the malady was chiefly nervous.In October of that same year, Luther protested that he had been “very abstemious in all things”[1045]at the Coburg, and Veit Dietrich, his assistant at that time, wrote in the same sense on July 4: “I carefully observed that he did not transgress any of the rules of diet.”[1046]His indisposition showed itself in unbearable noises in the head, at times accompanied by extreme sensitiveness to light.[1047]Luther was convinced that the trouble was due to the qualities of the strong wines provided for him at the castle—or, possibly, to the devil. “We are very well off,” he says in June, 1530, “and live finely, but for almost a month past I have been plagued not only with noises but with actual thunderingin my head, due, perhaps, to the wine, perhaps to the malice of Satan.”[1048]Veit Dietrich inclined strongly to the latter view. He tells us of the apparition of a “flaming fiery serpent” under which form the devil had manifested himself to Luther during his solitude in the Coburg: “On the following day he was plagued with troublesome noises in his head; thus the greater part of what he suffered was the work of the devil.”[1049]Luther himself complained in August of a fresh indisposition, this time scarcely due to nerves, which, according to him, was the result either of wine, or of the devil. “I am troubled with a sore throat, such as I never had before; possibly the strong wine has increased the inflammation, or perhaps it is a buffet of Satan [2 Cor. xii. 7].”[1050]Four days later he wrote again: “My head still buzzes and my throat is worse than ever.”[1051]In the following month some improvement showed itself, and even before this he had days free from suffering; still, after quitting the Coburg, he still complained of incessant headache caused, as he thought, by the “old wine.” When all is said, however, it does seem that later controversialists were wrong in so confidently attributing his illness in the Coburg merely to excessive love of the bottle.Luther often vaunted the wholesome effects of beer. In a letter to Katey dated February 1, 1546, he extols the aperient qualities of Naumburg beer.[1052]In another to Jonas, dated May 15, 1542, he speaks of the good that beer had done in relieving his sufferings from stone; beer was to be preferred to wine; much benefit was also to be derived from a strict diet.[1053]All these traits from Luther’s private life, taken as a whole, may be considered to confirm the opinion expressed above, p. 311 f., regarding the charges which may stand against him and those of which he is to be acquitted.
Wolfgang Musculus (Mäuslin), an Evangelical theologian, in the account of a journey in May, 1536, during which he had visited Luther, gives an interesting and unbiassed report of what he saw at Wittenberg.[981]On May 29, Luther came, bringing with him Melanchthon and Lucas Cranach, to dine as Mäuslin’s guest at the inn where he was staying. There all had their share of the wine. “When dinner was over,” says the chronicler, “we all went to the house of Master Lucas, the painter, where we had another drink....[982]After this we escorted Luther home, where we drank in true Saxon style. He was marvellously cheerful and promised everything most readily” (i.e. probably all that Musculus proposed concerning the agreement to be come to with the Zwinglians, of whom Musculus was one). The allusion to the “Saxon style” reminds us of Count Hoyer’s reference to the “custom at Mansfeld” (vol. ii., p. 131). Luther’s country does not seem to have been noted for its temperance.Melanchthon, as one of his pupils relates in the “Dicta Melanchthoniana,” tells how on a certain day in March, 1523: “Before dinner (‘ante coenam’)” Luther, with two intimates, Justus Jonas and Jacob Probst, the Pastor of Bremen, arrived at Schweinitz near Wittenberg. Here, owing to indigestion, “cruditas,” Luther was sick in a room. In order to remove the bad impression made on the servant who had to clean the apartment, Jonas said: “Do not be surprised, my good fellow, the Doctor does this sort of thing every day.” By this he certainly did not mean, as some have thought, that Luther was in the habit of being sick every day as the result of drink; he was merely trying to shield his friend in an embarrassing situation by alleging a permanent illness. Pastor Probst, however, according to Melanchthon’s story, betrayed Jonas by exclaiming: “What a fine excuse!” Jonas thereupon seized him by the throat and said: “Hold your tongue!” At table the pastor was anxious to return to the matter, but Jonas was able to cut him short. Melanchthon concludes the story with a touch ofsarcasm: “Hoc est quando posteriora intelliguntur ex prioribus.” Was the sickness in this case due to previous drinking?A letter, written by Luther himself, perhaps will help to explain the matter. On the eve of his return to Wittenberg he writes from Schweinitz on Oculi Sunday, March 8, 1523, to his friend the Court Chaplain Spalatin, that he had come to Schweinitz, where the Elector’s castle stood, in order to celebrate with the father the baptism of the son of a convert Jew named Bernard. “We drank good, pure wine from the Elector’s cellar,” he says; “we should indeed be grand Evangelicals if we feasted to the same extent on the Evangel.... Please excuse us to the Prince for having drunk so much of his Grüneberger wine (‘quod tantum vini Gornbergici ligurierimus’). Jonas and his wife greet you, also the godfathers, godmothers and myself; three virgins were present, certainly Jonas, for, as he has no child, we call him a virgin.”[983]The letter, curiously disconnected and containing such strange jests, quite gives the impression of having been written after such a festive gathering as that described by the writer.In connection with Melanchthon’s story some Protestants have recently urged that, in 1523, Luther was subject to attacks of “sudden indisposition” which came on him in the morning and from which he found relief in vomiting, and that the above incident is explained by this circumstance; the fact that he was sick “before the meal and after a lengthy drive proves that we have to do with a result not of intemperance but of nervous irritation.” Of such “sudden indispositions” arising from nervousness we, however, hear nothing, either during that year or for long after. None of the sources mention anything of the kind. On the contrary, at Whitsun, 1523, Luther wrote to Nicholas Hausmann that he felt “fairly well” (“satis bene valeo”); that he was of a nervous temperament is of course true, but that the morning hours were, as a rule, his worst we only begin to learn from his letters in 1530 and 1532; there, moreover, he does not mention sickness, but merely “giddiness and the attacks of Satan,” which were wont to come on him before breakfast, (“prandium,”[984]a meal taken about 9 or 10 a.m.). Melanchthon’s story speaks, however, not of the morning at all, but of the time before the “coena” (i.e. the principal meal, taken about 5 p.m.), when Luther was presumably no longer fasting.Still, it would be better not to lay too much stress on this isolated particular incident.[985]Next in the series of statements coming from preachers of the new Evangel, we meet that of Johann Agricola, who, accordingto Thiele, in the recently discovered notes of his (above, p. 216), when he had already separated from Luther, represents him as a “drunken profligate,” “who gave the rein to his passions and whom only his wife’s sway could influence for good.” Agricola says that Luther had contemptuously put aside certain letters of his, but “at last read them one morning before the wine had mounted to his head (‘mane, nondum vino calefactus’). Then he showed himself willing to take me into favour again”; this being the result of Katey’s intercession.After this we have the testimony of the Swiss theologian, Leo Judæ, who, as Kolde tells us,[986]in the letter to Bucer quoted above (p. 277) and dated April 24, 1534, “reproaches Luther with drunkenness and all manner of things, and declares that such a bishop he would not tolerate even in the tiniest diocese.”Valentine Ickelsamer, in 1525, voices the “fanatics,” whom Luther was attacking so vigorously, in his complaint, that the latter was “careless and heedless amidst all our needs, and spent his time in utter unconcern with the beer-swillers”; before this he had already said: “I am well acquainted with your behaviour, having been for a while a student at Wittenberg; I will, however, say nothing of your gold finger-ring, which gives scandal to so many people, or of the pleasant room overlooking the water where you drink and make merry with the other doctors and gentlemen.”[987]Neither Ickelsamer nor his friends formulate against Luther any explicit charge of startling or habitual excess. His daily habits, as just depicted, seemed to them to be at variance with his claim to being a divinely appointed preacher, called to raise mankind to higher things, but this was chiefly on account of their own peculiar narrow mysticism. It was from the same standpoint that, wishing to absolve himself from the charge of “inciting to rebellion,” Thomas Münzer, in 1524, writes in his “Schutzrede”[988]against the “witless, wanton lump of flesh at Wittenberg,” also twitting Luther with his “luxurious living” (vol. ii., p. 131), i.e. the daintiness of his food.With regard to Simon Lemnius, it will suffice to refer to the passage already adduced (p. 274): “Luther boasts of being an evangelical bishop; how then comes it that he lives so far from temperately, being wont to surfeit himself with food and drink?” It is unnecessary to repeat how much caution must be exercised in appealing to this writer’s statements.Among Catholic critics the first place is taken by the theologian, Ambrosius Catharinus, an Italian who lived far from Germany. His statement regarding Luther’s dancing and drinking has already been given (p. 276). This, together with many other ofhis strictures[989]on Luther’s teaching and work, were collected by Cochlæus. Catharinus was present at the Council of Trent from 1546-1547 and such reports as these may there have reached his ears. That Luther danced, or as Catharinus says, even led the dances, is not vouched for in any source. Only concerning Melanchthon have we a credible report, that he “sometimes danced.” On the other hand, we do know that Luther was frequently present at balls, weddings, christenings and other such occasions when food and drink were to be had in plenty. So distinguished and pleasant a guest was naturally much in demand, as Luther himself tells us on several occasions.Luther’s letter to Spalatin, on January 14, 1524, concerning the (real or imaginary) agent sent by King Ferdinand to enquire into his life at Wittenberg, also speaks of the report carried to Court of his intercourse with women and habits of drunkenness (vol. ii., p. 132 f.).Shortly before, in 1522, Count Hoyer of Mansfeld, a Catholic, wrote in a letter to Count Ulrich of Helfenstein, brought to light by a Protestant historian, “that Luther was a thorough scoundrel, who drank deeply, as was the custom at Mansfeld, played the lute, etc.” (vol. ii., p. 131). If, as we find recounted elsewhere, Luther, on his journey to the Diet, and at Worms itself, partook freely of the costly wines in which his enthusiastic friends pledged him, this was, after all, no great crime. It is probable, however, that some worse tales to Luther’s discredit in this matter of drinking had come to Hoyer’s ear.At the time of the Diet of Worms, Aleander, the Papal Legate there present, indeed writes that Luther was “addicted to drunkenness,”[990]but the credulous diplomat probably trusted to what he heard from parties hostile to Luther and little acquainted with him. (See vol. ii., p. 78 f.) It is also a fact that, to Italians imbued with the idea that the Germans were drunkards, even quite moderate drinking might seem scandalous.Cochlæus says of Luther in 1524: “According to what I hear, in his excessive indulgence in beer, Luther is worse than a debauchee.”[991]Here again we have merely an echo of statements made by strangers, albeit in this instance stronger and more positive.—Less weight is to be attached to the account of Jacob Ziegler of Landau, who writes from Rome to Erasmus on February 16, 1522, that there Luther was regarded as “given to fornication and tippling,” adding that he was considered as the precursor of Antichrist.[992]—Of the inhabitants of Wittenberg generally Ulrich Zasius complains, in a letter of December 21,1521, to Thomas Blaurer, that it was reported they ran almost daily to communion but afterwards swilled beer to such an extent that they were unable to recognise each other.[993]To his other charges against the life led there and against the heads of the movement, Blaurer replied, but, curiously enough, the complaint of drunkenness he does not even refer to.[994]From the detailed description given by a Catholic Canon of Wittenberg on December 29, 1521, we do, however, learn that the greatest abuses prevailed in connection with the Supper, and that some even communicated who had previously been indulging in brandy.[995]The last witness had nothing to say of Luther personally. On the other hand, another does state that, the night before his death, he was “plane obrutus potu.” This, however, comes from a later writer, who lived far away and has shown himself otherwise untrustworthy.[996]Another less unreliable report also has to do with Luther’s death-bed. Johann Landau, the Mansfeld apothecary, who was a Catholic, and had occasion to handle Luther’s corpse, left the following in the notes he made: “In consequence of excessive eating and drinking the body was full of corrupt juices,” Luther had “exceeded in the use of sweet foreign wines.” “It is said,” he continues, “that he drank every day at noon and in the evening a sextar of rich foreign wine.”[997]This statement does not appear to be restricted to the last days of Luther’s life, which were spent with Count Mansfeld. It is well known that Luther died after a meal. What amount the “sextar” and the “stuebchen,” to be mentioned immediately, represented has not yet been determined, as the measures differed so much in various parts of the country. The sextar, according to G. Agricola, was usually a quarter of the stuebchen, as, according to him, twenty-four sextars or six stuebchen went to one amphora; the sextar itself contained four gills.[998]In a letter of Luther’s, dating from the period of his stay at Mansfeld, we find the following: “We live well here,” he writes to Katey, “and the council allows me for each meal half a gallon of excellent Rheinfall. Sometimes I drink it with my companions. The wine produced here is also good and the Naumburg beer quite capital.”[999]Rheinfall (more correctly Reinfal) was a southern wine then highly prized.[1000]Luther, as a rule, preferred to keep to Naumburg beer.[1001]Luther’s Own Comments on the “Good Drink.”The following statements of Luther’s concerning his indulgence in spirituous liquors are especially noteworthy; of these some have been quoted without sufficient attention being paid to their real meaning.“Know that all goes well with me here,” Luther writes in 1540 from Weimar to his Katey, who was anxious about him; “I feed like a Bohemian, and swill like a German, for which God be thanked, Amen.”[1002]Soon after he repeats, in a letter to the same addressee, the phrase which has since grown famous, this time in a slightly amended form: Know “that we are well and cheerful here, thanks be to God; we feed like Bohemians, though not too much, and swill like Germans, not deeply but with jollity.”[1003]He is fond of thus speaking of his “feeding and swilling,” though, such expressions being less unconventional then than now, stress must not be laid on them. In both letters he was clearly seeking by his jests to reassure his wife, who was concerned for his health. During his last weeks at Eisleben he also wrote to Katey: “We have plenty on which to feed and swill.”[1004]“If the Lord God holds me excused,” he says in a famous utterance in the Table-Talk, “for having plagued Him for quite twenty years by celebrating Mass, He assuredly will excuse me for sometimes indulging in a drink to His honour; God grant it and let the world take it as it will.”[1005]Of the last decade of Luther’s life his pupil Mathesius relates, that, in the evening, “if not inclined for sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing: ‘You young fellows must not mind if our Elector and an old chap like me take a generous drink; we have to try and find our pillow and our bolster in the tankard.’”[1006]The same witness relates another utterance of about the same time: “He came home from a party anddrank the health of a guest: ‘I must make merry to-day, for I have received bad tidings; for this there is no better cure than a fervent Paternoster and a brave heart. For the demon of melancholy is much put out when a man insists upon being merry.’”[1007]Here we have two reasons, want of sleep and depression resulting from bad news, which induced him to have a “good drink.” A third reason was furnished by his temptations to doubt and vacillate in faith. The “good drink” must not, however, be too deep as it “recently was at the Electoral couchee at Torgau, where, not satisfied with the usual measures, they pledged each other in half-gallon cans. That they called a good drink.Sic inventa lege inventa est et fraus legis.”[1008]Luther’s advice to his pupil Hieronymus Weller, when the latter was tempted and troubled, as stated above (p. 175), was to follow his example and “to drink deeper and jest more freely,” and to answer the devil when he objected to such drinking, that “he would drink all the more because he forbade it”; he himself (Luther), for no other reason, was wont to drink more deeply and talk more freely than to scorn the devil by his “hard drinking.”[1009]“When troubled with gloomy thoughts,” he declared on another occasion, it was his habit “to have a good pull at the beer”; Melanchthon had a different sort of remedy, viz. consulting the stars; Luther, however, considered his practice the better one.[1010]These and such-like utterances circulated far and wide, often in a highly exaggerated form, and Luther had only himself to thank if many Catholics, on the strength of them, came to regard him as a regular drunkard. This impression was in no way diminished by the rough humour which accompanied his talk of eating and drinking. People then were perfectly acquainted with the fact that the Table-Talk was regarded, even by some enthusiastic Lutherans, as only a half revelation, the truth being that they did not make sufficient allowance for Luther’s vein of humour and exaggeration.It was, however, quite seriously that Luther spoke inAugust, 1540, when the excessive drinking of the miners was discussed at table: “It is not well,” he said, “but if they work hard for the rest of the week, then we must allow them some relaxation (at the week-end). Their work is hard and very dangerous and some allowance must be made for the custom of the country. I, too, have an occasional tipple, but not everybody must follow my example, for not all have the work to do that I have.”[1011]Here, accordingly, we have a fourth reason alleged in excuse of his drinking, possibly the most usual and practical one, viz. his fatiguing work.—In May of the same year he expressed his opinion of the extent to which drinking might be allowable in certain circles; this he did because he had been accused of not reproving drunkenness at the Court: “On the contrary,” he says, “I have spoken strongly about it before the whole Court; truly I spoke forcibly and severely to the nobles, reproaching them with tempting and corrupting the Prince. This greatly pleased the old gentleman [the Elector Johann], for he lived temperately.... I said to the nobles: ‘You ought to employ yourselves after dinner in the Palæstra or in some other good exercise, after which you might have a good drink, for drinking is permissible, but drunkenness never (ebrietas est ferenda, sed ebriositas minime).’”[1012]“Cheerful people,” he said in May or June, “may sometimes indulge more freely in wine,” but if drinking makes a man angry, he must avoid it like “poison.” These words were meant for his nephew, Hans Polner, who was in the habit of returning to Luther’s house much the worse for drink. With him Luther was very wroth: “On your account I am ill-spoken of by foreigners. My foes spy out everything that goes on about me.... When you do some mischief while drunk, you forget what shame you are bringing not only upon me and on my house, but on the town, the Church and the Evangel. Others after a drinking-boutare merry and friendly; such was the case with my father; they simply sing and jest; but you, you fly into a rage.”[1013]Luther, when preaching to the people, often denounced the prevalent habit of drinking, a circumstance which must not be overlooked when passing judgment upon him. The German vice of drunkenness which he saw increasing around him in the most alarming manner caused him such distress, that he exclaimed in one of his postils: “Our poor German land is chastised and plagued with this devil of drink, and altogether drowned in this vice, so that life and limb, possessions and honour, are shamefully lost while people lead the life of swine, so that, had we to depict Germany, we should have to show it under the image of a sow.”[1014]Only “the little children, virgins and women” were exempt from the malady; “unless God strikes at this vice by a national calamity everything will go down to the abyss, all sodden through and through with drink.”[1015]Was this the way to be grateful “to the light of the Evangel” which had burst upon Germany?[1016]His question shows that he was speaking primarily of the conditions prevailing under the new Evangel. Looking back on the Catholic past he has perforce to admit, that, although this vice was by no means unknown then, yet “I remember that when I was young it [drunkenness] was looked upon by the nobility as a great shame, and that worthy gentry and Princes sought to combat it by wise prohibitions and penalties; but now it is even worse and more prevalent amongst them than amongst the peasants; so far has it come that even Princes and men of gentle birth learn it from their squires, and are not ashamed of it; it is regarded as honourable and quite a virtue by Princes, nobles and burghers, so that whosoever refuses to become a sodden brute is despised.”[1017]In powerful passages such as these he assails the vice from both the natural and the supernatural standpoint. Yet his chief complaint is not so much its existence as its appalling extent; his reproofs are intended for those who “get drunk daily,” for those “maddened and sodden with drink,” for those who “day and night are ever pouring theliquor down their throats.” He expressly states that he is willing to be lenient in cases where a man is drunk only now and again. “It may be borne with and overlooked,” he says in the sermon quoted, “if from time to time a person by mistake takes a glass too much, or, after being exhausted by labour and toil, gets a little the worse for drink.”[1018]In 1534, in an exposition of Psalm ci., where he describes the doings of the “Secular Estate,” he is no less hopeless concerning this plague which afflicts Germany: “Every country must have its own devil; our German devil is a good skin of wine and surely his name is Swill”; until the last day eternal thirst would remain the German’s curse; it was quite useless to seek to remedy matters, Swill still remained the all-powerful god.[1019]More dignified language would assuredly have been better in place here and elsewhere where he deals with this subject. For quaint homeliness it would, however, be hard to beat him; referring to their drinking habits, he tells the great men at the Court: “In the morning you really look as though your heads had been pickled in brine.”[1020]Yet, from the very passage in the Table-Talk where this is recounted, we learn that he said to the guests, again in a far too indulgent strain: “The Lord God must account the drunkenness of us Germans a mere daily [i.e. venial] sin, for we are unable to give it up; nevertheless, it is a shameful curse, harmful alike to body, soul and property.”Witnesses to Luther’s Temperate Habits.Within Luther’s camp the chief witnesses to his temperate habits are Melanchthon and Mathesius.Melanchthon in his formal panegyric on the deceased says, that “though a stout man, he was very moderate in eating and drinking (‘natura valde modici cibi et potus’). I have seen him, when quite in good health, abstaining entirely from food and drink for four days. At other times I frequently saw him content himself for many days with a little bread with kippers.”[1021]His four days’ abstinence, however, probably coincided with one of his attacks—“temptations,” which, as we know from Ratzeberger, his medical adviser, were usually accompanied by intense dislike for food. Besides, before his marriage, Lutherhad not the same attention and care he received later from his wife. It is not unlikely that Melanchthon was thinking of this period when he speaks of the “bread and kippers,” for the passage really refers to the beginning of his acquaintanceship with Luther, possibly even to his monastic days. However this may be, we must not forget that the clause is part of a panegyric.Mathesius, Luther’s attentive pupil and admirer, says of him in his sermons, that Luther, “although he was somewhat corpulent, ate and drank little and rarely anything out of the common, but contented himself with ordinary food. In the evening, if not inclined to sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing.”[1022]That Luther was perfectly content “without anything out of the common” is confirmed by other writers, and concerning the general frugality of his household there can be no question. In this respect we may well believe what Mathesius says, for he was a regular attendant at Luther’s evening table in the forties of the century. His assertion that Luther “drank but little” must, however, be considered in the light of other of his statements.What Mathesius thought of the “sleeping-draught” and the feasts at which, so he relates, Luther assisted from time to time, appears from a discourse incorporated by him in his “Wedding-sermons.” Here he speaks of the “noble juice of the grape and how we can make use of it in a godly fashion and with a good conscience”; he is simply the mouthpiece of Luther. Like Luther, he condemns gluttony and “bestial drunkenness,” but is so indulgent in the matter of cheerful carousing that a Protestant Canon in the eighteenth century declared, that Mathesius had gone astray in his sermon on the use of wine.[1023]Mathesius says that we must have “a certain amount of patience” with those who sometimes, for some quite valid reason, “get a little tipsy,” or “kick over the traces,” provided they “don’t do so every day” and that “the next morning they are heartily sorry for it”; the learned were quite right in distinguishing between “ebriositas” and “ebrietas”; if a ruling Prince had worked industriously all day, or a scholar had “read and studied till his head swam,” such busy and much-tired people, if they chose “in the evening to drinkaway their cares and heavy thoughts, must be permitted some over-indulgence, particularly if it does not hinder them in the morning from praying, studying and working.”[1024]This is the exact counterpart of Luther’s theory and practice as already described, in the distinction made between “ebriositas” and “ebrietas,” in the statement that drunkenness is no more than a venial sin, in the unseemly and jocose tone employed when speaking of tipsiness, and in the license accorded those who (like Luther) had much work to do, or (again, like Luther), were plagued with “gloomy thoughts.” The other conditions are also noteworthy, viz. that it must not be of “daily occurrence” and that the offender must afterwards be “heartily sorry”; in such a case we must be tolerant. All this agrees with Luther’s own teaching.Such passages, coming from the master and his devoted disciple, must be taken as the foundation on which to base our judgment. Such general statements of principle must carry more weight than isolated instances of Luther’s actual practice, more even than the various testimonies considered above. In the eyes of the impartial historian, moreover, the various elements will be seen to fit into each other so as to form a whole, the elements being on the one hand the highly questionable principle we have just heard expressed, and on the other his own admissions concerning his practice, supplemented by the testimony of outsiders.In the first place, there is no doubt that his theory was dangerously lax. We need only call to mind the string of reasons given in vindication of a “good drink” and mere “ebrietas.” Such excuses were not only insufficient but might easily be adduced daily in ever-increasing number. Luther’s limitation of the permission to occasional bouts, etc., was altogether illusory and constituted no real barrier against excess. How could such theories, we may well ask, promote temperance and self-denial? Instead of resisting the lower impulses of nature they give the reins to license.They are part and parcel of the phenomenon so noticeable in early Lutheranism, where Christian endeavour, owing to the discredit with which penance and good works were overwhelmed, was not allowed to rise above the level of ordinary life, and indeed often failed to attain even to this standard. How different sound the injunctions of Christ and His Apostles to the devoted followers of the true Gospel: Take up thy cross; resist the flesh and all its lusts; be sober and watch.The result as regards Luther’s practice must on the whole be considered as unfavourable, though it is not of course so well known to us as his theory. It may also, quite possibly, have varied at different periods of his life, for instance, may not have been the same when Mathesius was acquainted with him, i.e. when his mode of life had become more regular, as when Count Hoyer of Mansfeld wrote so scornfully after the Diet of Worms. Nevertheless, Luther’s vigorous denunciation of habitual drunkenness on the one hand, and the extraordinary amount of work he contrived to get through on the other, also the absence of any very damaging or definite charge by those who had every opportunity of observing him at Wittenberg, for instance, the hostile Anabaptists and other “sectarians,” all this leads us to infer, that he availed himself of his theories only to a very limited extent. His own statements, however, as well as those of his friends and opponents, enable us to see that his lax principle, “ebrietas est ferenda,” was not without its effects upon his habits of life. The allegation of his joy of living, and his healthy love of the things of sense, does not avail to explain away his own admissions, nor what others laid to his charge. The worst of it is, that we gain the impression that the lax theory was conceived to suit his own case, for all the reasons which he held to excuse the “good drink” and the subsequent “ebrietas” were present in his case—depression caused by bad news, cares and gloomy thoughts, pressure of work, temptations to sadness and doubts, sleeplessness and mental exhaustion.From the Cellar and the Tap-Room.The task remains of considering certain further traits in Luther’s life with regard to his indulgence in drinking.During the first part of his public career Luther himselfspeaks of the temptation to excessive eating and drinking and other bad habits to which he was exposed. This he did in 1519 in his remarkably frank confession to his superior Staupitz.[1025]Here the expression “crapula” must be taken more seriously than on another occasion when, in a letter to a friend written from the Wartburg in the midst of his arduous labours, he describes himself as “sitting idle, and ‘crapulosus.’”[1026]After Luther’s marriage, when he had settled down comfortably in the Black Monastery, it was Catherine, who, agreeably with the then custom, brewed the beer at home. It seems, however, to have been of inferior quality, indeed not fit to set before his guests. That he had several sorts of wine in his cellar we learn on the occasion of the marriage of his niece Lena in 1538. He complains that in Germany it was very hard to buy “a really trustworthy drink,” as even the carriers adulterated the wines on the way.[1027]As already stated, beer was his usual drink. Whilst he was “drinking Wittenberg beer with Philip and Amsdorf,” he said as early as 1522, in a well-known passage, “the Papacy had been weakened through the Word of God” which he had preached.[1028]It was, however, with wine that on great occasions the ample “Catechismusglas” (see above, p. 219) was filled.[1029]How much this bowl contained which Luther, though not his guest Agricola, could empty at one draught, has not been determined, though illustrations of it were thought to exist. Agricola’s statement concerning his vain attempt to drain it leads us to conclude that the famous glass was of considerable size. It impresses one strangely to learn that Luther occasionally toasted his guests in a crystal beakerreputed to have once belonged to St. Elizabeth of Hungary; this too, no doubt, passed from hand to hand.[1030]An example of Luther’s accustomed outspokenness was witnessed by some of those who happened to be present on the arrival of a Christmas gift of wine in 1538. The cask came from the Margrave of Brandenburg and, to the intense disappointment of the recipient, contained Franconian wine. Luther, in spite of the importance of the gift, made no secret of his annoyance, and his complaints would appear to have duly reached the ear of the Margrave. In order to efface the bad impression made at Court, Luther was obliged to send a letter of excuse to Sebastian Heller, the Chancellor. Therein he says he had been quite unaware of the excellence of Franconian wine, and, “like the big fool” he was, had not known that the inhabitants of Franconia were so fortunate in their wine as now, after tasting it, he had ascertained to be the case. In future he was going to stick to Franconian wine; to the Prince he sent his best thanks and trusted he would take nothing amiss.[1031]—From the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, after he had forwarded him his memorandum regarding his bigamy, he received a hogshead of Rhine wine.[1032]In the same year he received from the Town Council of Wittenberg a present of a gallon of Franconian “and four quarts of Gutterbogk wine” on the occasion of the marriage of his niece, mentioned above.From the magistrates, in addition to other presents, came frequent gifts of liquor for himself and his guests, of which we find the entries since 1519 recorded in the Town-registers.Only recently has attention been drawn to this.[1033]In 1525 we find the following items: “7 Gulden for six cans of Franconian wine at 14 Groschen the quart presentedDoctori Martinoon his engagement; 136 Gulden, 6 Groschen for a barrel of Einbeck beer presentedDoctori Martinofor his wedding; 440 GuldenDoctori Martinofor wine and beer presented by the Council and the town on the occasion of his nuptials and wedding. Fine of 120 Gulden paid by Clara, wedded wife of Lorenz Eberhard dwelling at Jessen for abusive language concerning Doctor Martin and his honourable wife, and also for abusing the Pastor’s [Bugenhagen] wife at Master Lubeck’s wedding; 136 Gulden, 2 Groschen for wine sent for during the year by Doctor Martin from the town vaults and paid for by the Council.” In addition to the various “presents” made by the Council, we meet repeatedly in other years with items recording deliveries of beer or wine which Luther had sent for from the town cellar. These are entered as “owing.... The Council loath to sue him for them....” And again, “allowed to Doctor Martin this year....”This explains the low items for liquor in Luther’s own list of household expenses, which were frequently quoted in proof of his exceptional abstemiousness. As a matter of fact, they are so small simply owing to the presents and to his requisitions on the town cellars, for much of which he never paid. “Four pfennigs daily for drink” we read in his household accounts in a Gotha MS., the date of which is uncertain.[1034]Seeing that at Wittenberg a can of beer cost 3 pfennigs, this would allow him very little. According to another entry Katey required 56 pfennigs weekly for making the beer; the date of this is equally uncertain. It is to the filial devotion of Protestant researchers that we owe this information.[1035]Luther was in a particularly cheerful mood when he wrote, on March 18, 1535, the letter, already quoted (p. 296 f.), to his friend Caspar Müller, the Mansfeld Chancellor at Eisleben. The letter is to some extent a humorous one, but is it really a fact that in the last of the three signatures appended he qualifies himself as “Doctor plenus”?[1036]According to some controversialists such is the case.It is true that Denifle says of this signature, now-preserved with the letter in the Vatican Library,[1037]“that the badlywritten and scarcely legible word ... either reads or might be read as ‘plenus.’”[1038]According to R. Reitzenstein, on the other hand, who also studied them, the characters cannot possibly be read thus. E. Thiele, who mentions this, suggests[1039]that perhaps we might read it as “Doctor Hans,” and that the signature in question might refer to Luther’s little son who was with him and whose greetings with those of the mother Luther sends at the end of the letter to Müller, who was the child’s godfather.First comes the legible signature “Doctor Martinus” in Luther’s handwriting; below this, also quite legible, stands “Doctor Luther,” possibly denoting his wife, as Thiele very reasonably conjectures; finally we have the questionable “Doctor plenus.” To read “Hans” instead of “plenus,” is, according to Denifle, “quite out of the question,” as I also found when I came to examine the facsimile published by G. Evers in 1883.[1040]On the other hand, to judge by the facsimile, it appeared to me that “Johannes” might possibly be the true reading, and the Latin form also seemed to agree with that of the previous signatures. When I was able to examine the original in Rome in May, 1907, I convinced myself that, as a matter of fact, the badly formed and intertwined characters could be read as “Johannes”; this reading was also confirmed by Alfredo Monaci, the palæologist.[1041]Hence the reading “Doctor plenus,” too confidently introduced by Evers and repeated by Enders, though with a query, in his edition of Luther’s letters, may safely be consigned to oblivion. Evenhad it been correct, it would merely have afforded a fresh example of Luther’s jokes at his own expense, and would not necessarily have proved that his mirth was due to spirituous influence.In one letter of Luther’s, which speaks of the time he passed in the Castle of Coburg, we hear more of the disagreeable than of the cheering effects of wine.“I have brought on headache by drinking old wine in the Coburg,” he complains to his friend Wenceslaus Link, “and this our Wittenberg beer has not yet cured. I work little and am forced to be idle against my will because my head must have a rest.”[1042]In the Electoral accounts 25 Eimer of wine are set down for the period of Luther’s stay at the Coburg;[1043]seeing that he and two companions spent only 173 days there, our Protestant friends have hastened to allege “the frequent visits he received” in the Coburg.[1044]It is true that he had a good many visitors during the latter part of his stay. However this may be, the illness showed itself as early as May, 1530. His own diagnosis here is no less unsatisfactory than the accounts concerning the other maladies from which he suffered. No doubt the malady was chiefly nervous.In October of that same year, Luther protested that he had been “very abstemious in all things”[1045]at the Coburg, and Veit Dietrich, his assistant at that time, wrote in the same sense on July 4: “I carefully observed that he did not transgress any of the rules of diet.”[1046]His indisposition showed itself in unbearable noises in the head, at times accompanied by extreme sensitiveness to light.[1047]Luther was convinced that the trouble was due to the qualities of the strong wines provided for him at the castle—or, possibly, to the devil. “We are very well off,” he says in June, 1530, “and live finely, but for almost a month past I have been plagued not only with noises but with actual thunderingin my head, due, perhaps, to the wine, perhaps to the malice of Satan.”[1048]Veit Dietrich inclined strongly to the latter view. He tells us of the apparition of a “flaming fiery serpent” under which form the devil had manifested himself to Luther during his solitude in the Coburg: “On the following day he was plagued with troublesome noises in his head; thus the greater part of what he suffered was the work of the devil.”[1049]Luther himself complained in August of a fresh indisposition, this time scarcely due to nerves, which, according to him, was the result either of wine, or of the devil. “I am troubled with a sore throat, such as I never had before; possibly the strong wine has increased the inflammation, or perhaps it is a buffet of Satan [2 Cor. xii. 7].”[1050]Four days later he wrote again: “My head still buzzes and my throat is worse than ever.”[1051]In the following month some improvement showed itself, and even before this he had days free from suffering; still, after quitting the Coburg, he still complained of incessant headache caused, as he thought, by the “old wine.” When all is said, however, it does seem that later controversialists were wrong in so confidently attributing his illness in the Coburg merely to excessive love of the bottle.Luther often vaunted the wholesome effects of beer. In a letter to Katey dated February 1, 1546, he extols the aperient qualities of Naumburg beer.[1052]In another to Jonas, dated May 15, 1542, he speaks of the good that beer had done in relieving his sufferings from stone; beer was to be preferred to wine; much benefit was also to be derived from a strict diet.[1053]All these traits from Luther’s private life, taken as a whole, may be considered to confirm the opinion expressed above, p. 311 f., regarding the charges which may stand against him and those of which he is to be acquitted.
Wolfgang Musculus (Mäuslin), an Evangelical theologian, in the account of a journey in May, 1536, during which he had visited Luther, gives an interesting and unbiassed report of what he saw at Wittenberg.[981]On May 29, Luther came, bringing with him Melanchthon and Lucas Cranach, to dine as Mäuslin’s guest at the inn where he was staying. There all had their share of the wine. “When dinner was over,” says the chronicler, “we all went to the house of Master Lucas, the painter, where we had another drink....[982]After this we escorted Luther home, where we drank in true Saxon style. He was marvellously cheerful and promised everything most readily” (i.e. probably all that Musculus proposed concerning the agreement to be come to with the Zwinglians, of whom Musculus was one). The allusion to the “Saxon style” reminds us of Count Hoyer’s reference to the “custom at Mansfeld” (vol. ii., p. 131). Luther’s country does not seem to have been noted for its temperance.Melanchthon, as one of his pupils relates in the “Dicta Melanchthoniana,” tells how on a certain day in March, 1523: “Before dinner (‘ante coenam’)” Luther, with two intimates, Justus Jonas and Jacob Probst, the Pastor of Bremen, arrived at Schweinitz near Wittenberg. Here, owing to indigestion, “cruditas,” Luther was sick in a room. In order to remove the bad impression made on the servant who had to clean the apartment, Jonas said: “Do not be surprised, my good fellow, the Doctor does this sort of thing every day.” By this he certainly did not mean, as some have thought, that Luther was in the habit of being sick every day as the result of drink; he was merely trying to shield his friend in an embarrassing situation by alleging a permanent illness. Pastor Probst, however, according to Melanchthon’s story, betrayed Jonas by exclaiming: “What a fine excuse!” Jonas thereupon seized him by the throat and said: “Hold your tongue!” At table the pastor was anxious to return to the matter, but Jonas was able to cut him short. Melanchthon concludes the story with a touch ofsarcasm: “Hoc est quando posteriora intelliguntur ex prioribus.” Was the sickness in this case due to previous drinking?A letter, written by Luther himself, perhaps will help to explain the matter. On the eve of his return to Wittenberg he writes from Schweinitz on Oculi Sunday, March 8, 1523, to his friend the Court Chaplain Spalatin, that he had come to Schweinitz, where the Elector’s castle stood, in order to celebrate with the father the baptism of the son of a convert Jew named Bernard. “We drank good, pure wine from the Elector’s cellar,” he says; “we should indeed be grand Evangelicals if we feasted to the same extent on the Evangel.... Please excuse us to the Prince for having drunk so much of his Grüneberger wine (‘quod tantum vini Gornbergici ligurierimus’). Jonas and his wife greet you, also the godfathers, godmothers and myself; three virgins were present, certainly Jonas, for, as he has no child, we call him a virgin.”[983]The letter, curiously disconnected and containing such strange jests, quite gives the impression of having been written after such a festive gathering as that described by the writer.In connection with Melanchthon’s story some Protestants have recently urged that, in 1523, Luther was subject to attacks of “sudden indisposition” which came on him in the morning and from which he found relief in vomiting, and that the above incident is explained by this circumstance; the fact that he was sick “before the meal and after a lengthy drive proves that we have to do with a result not of intemperance but of nervous irritation.” Of such “sudden indispositions” arising from nervousness we, however, hear nothing, either during that year or for long after. None of the sources mention anything of the kind. On the contrary, at Whitsun, 1523, Luther wrote to Nicholas Hausmann that he felt “fairly well” (“satis bene valeo”); that he was of a nervous temperament is of course true, but that the morning hours were, as a rule, his worst we only begin to learn from his letters in 1530 and 1532; there, moreover, he does not mention sickness, but merely “giddiness and the attacks of Satan,” which were wont to come on him before breakfast, (“prandium,”[984]a meal taken about 9 or 10 a.m.). Melanchthon’s story speaks, however, not of the morning at all, but of the time before the “coena” (i.e. the principal meal, taken about 5 p.m.), when Luther was presumably no longer fasting.Still, it would be better not to lay too much stress on this isolated particular incident.[985]Next in the series of statements coming from preachers of the new Evangel, we meet that of Johann Agricola, who, accordingto Thiele, in the recently discovered notes of his (above, p. 216), when he had already separated from Luther, represents him as a “drunken profligate,” “who gave the rein to his passions and whom only his wife’s sway could influence for good.” Agricola says that Luther had contemptuously put aside certain letters of his, but “at last read them one morning before the wine had mounted to his head (‘mane, nondum vino calefactus’). Then he showed himself willing to take me into favour again”; this being the result of Katey’s intercession.After this we have the testimony of the Swiss theologian, Leo Judæ, who, as Kolde tells us,[986]in the letter to Bucer quoted above (p. 277) and dated April 24, 1534, “reproaches Luther with drunkenness and all manner of things, and declares that such a bishop he would not tolerate even in the tiniest diocese.”Valentine Ickelsamer, in 1525, voices the “fanatics,” whom Luther was attacking so vigorously, in his complaint, that the latter was “careless and heedless amidst all our needs, and spent his time in utter unconcern with the beer-swillers”; before this he had already said: “I am well acquainted with your behaviour, having been for a while a student at Wittenberg; I will, however, say nothing of your gold finger-ring, which gives scandal to so many people, or of the pleasant room overlooking the water where you drink and make merry with the other doctors and gentlemen.”[987]Neither Ickelsamer nor his friends formulate against Luther any explicit charge of startling or habitual excess. His daily habits, as just depicted, seemed to them to be at variance with his claim to being a divinely appointed preacher, called to raise mankind to higher things, but this was chiefly on account of their own peculiar narrow mysticism. It was from the same standpoint that, wishing to absolve himself from the charge of “inciting to rebellion,” Thomas Münzer, in 1524, writes in his “Schutzrede”[988]against the “witless, wanton lump of flesh at Wittenberg,” also twitting Luther with his “luxurious living” (vol. ii., p. 131), i.e. the daintiness of his food.With regard to Simon Lemnius, it will suffice to refer to the passage already adduced (p. 274): “Luther boasts of being an evangelical bishop; how then comes it that he lives so far from temperately, being wont to surfeit himself with food and drink?” It is unnecessary to repeat how much caution must be exercised in appealing to this writer’s statements.Among Catholic critics the first place is taken by the theologian, Ambrosius Catharinus, an Italian who lived far from Germany. His statement regarding Luther’s dancing and drinking has already been given (p. 276). This, together with many other ofhis strictures[989]on Luther’s teaching and work, were collected by Cochlæus. Catharinus was present at the Council of Trent from 1546-1547 and such reports as these may there have reached his ears. That Luther danced, or as Catharinus says, even led the dances, is not vouched for in any source. Only concerning Melanchthon have we a credible report, that he “sometimes danced.” On the other hand, we do know that Luther was frequently present at balls, weddings, christenings and other such occasions when food and drink were to be had in plenty. So distinguished and pleasant a guest was naturally much in demand, as Luther himself tells us on several occasions.Luther’s letter to Spalatin, on January 14, 1524, concerning the (real or imaginary) agent sent by King Ferdinand to enquire into his life at Wittenberg, also speaks of the report carried to Court of his intercourse with women and habits of drunkenness (vol. ii., p. 132 f.).Shortly before, in 1522, Count Hoyer of Mansfeld, a Catholic, wrote in a letter to Count Ulrich of Helfenstein, brought to light by a Protestant historian, “that Luther was a thorough scoundrel, who drank deeply, as was the custom at Mansfeld, played the lute, etc.” (vol. ii., p. 131). If, as we find recounted elsewhere, Luther, on his journey to the Diet, and at Worms itself, partook freely of the costly wines in which his enthusiastic friends pledged him, this was, after all, no great crime. It is probable, however, that some worse tales to Luther’s discredit in this matter of drinking had come to Hoyer’s ear.At the time of the Diet of Worms, Aleander, the Papal Legate there present, indeed writes that Luther was “addicted to drunkenness,”[990]but the credulous diplomat probably trusted to what he heard from parties hostile to Luther and little acquainted with him. (See vol. ii., p. 78 f.) It is also a fact that, to Italians imbued with the idea that the Germans were drunkards, even quite moderate drinking might seem scandalous.Cochlæus says of Luther in 1524: “According to what I hear, in his excessive indulgence in beer, Luther is worse than a debauchee.”[991]Here again we have merely an echo of statements made by strangers, albeit in this instance stronger and more positive.—Less weight is to be attached to the account of Jacob Ziegler of Landau, who writes from Rome to Erasmus on February 16, 1522, that there Luther was regarded as “given to fornication and tippling,” adding that he was considered as the precursor of Antichrist.[992]—Of the inhabitants of Wittenberg generally Ulrich Zasius complains, in a letter of December 21,1521, to Thomas Blaurer, that it was reported they ran almost daily to communion but afterwards swilled beer to such an extent that they were unable to recognise each other.[993]To his other charges against the life led there and against the heads of the movement, Blaurer replied, but, curiously enough, the complaint of drunkenness he does not even refer to.[994]From the detailed description given by a Catholic Canon of Wittenberg on December 29, 1521, we do, however, learn that the greatest abuses prevailed in connection with the Supper, and that some even communicated who had previously been indulging in brandy.[995]The last witness had nothing to say of Luther personally. On the other hand, another does state that, the night before his death, he was “plane obrutus potu.” This, however, comes from a later writer, who lived far away and has shown himself otherwise untrustworthy.[996]Another less unreliable report also has to do with Luther’s death-bed. Johann Landau, the Mansfeld apothecary, who was a Catholic, and had occasion to handle Luther’s corpse, left the following in the notes he made: “In consequence of excessive eating and drinking the body was full of corrupt juices,” Luther had “exceeded in the use of sweet foreign wines.” “It is said,” he continues, “that he drank every day at noon and in the evening a sextar of rich foreign wine.”[997]This statement does not appear to be restricted to the last days of Luther’s life, which were spent with Count Mansfeld. It is well known that Luther died after a meal. What amount the “sextar” and the “stuebchen,” to be mentioned immediately, represented has not yet been determined, as the measures differed so much in various parts of the country. The sextar, according to G. Agricola, was usually a quarter of the stuebchen, as, according to him, twenty-four sextars or six stuebchen went to one amphora; the sextar itself contained four gills.[998]In a letter of Luther’s, dating from the period of his stay at Mansfeld, we find the following: “We live well here,” he writes to Katey, “and the council allows me for each meal half a gallon of excellent Rheinfall. Sometimes I drink it with my companions. The wine produced here is also good and the Naumburg beer quite capital.”[999]Rheinfall (more correctly Reinfal) was a southern wine then highly prized.[1000]Luther, as a rule, preferred to keep to Naumburg beer.[1001]
Wolfgang Musculus (Mäuslin), an Evangelical theologian, in the account of a journey in May, 1536, during which he had visited Luther, gives an interesting and unbiassed report of what he saw at Wittenberg.[981]On May 29, Luther came, bringing with him Melanchthon and Lucas Cranach, to dine as Mäuslin’s guest at the inn where he was staying. There all had their share of the wine. “When dinner was over,” says the chronicler, “we all went to the house of Master Lucas, the painter, where we had another drink....[982]After this we escorted Luther home, where we drank in true Saxon style. He was marvellously cheerful and promised everything most readily” (i.e. probably all that Musculus proposed concerning the agreement to be come to with the Zwinglians, of whom Musculus was one). The allusion to the “Saxon style” reminds us of Count Hoyer’s reference to the “custom at Mansfeld” (vol. ii., p. 131). Luther’s country does not seem to have been noted for its temperance.
Melanchthon, as one of his pupils relates in the “Dicta Melanchthoniana,” tells how on a certain day in March, 1523: “Before dinner (‘ante coenam’)” Luther, with two intimates, Justus Jonas and Jacob Probst, the Pastor of Bremen, arrived at Schweinitz near Wittenberg. Here, owing to indigestion, “cruditas,” Luther was sick in a room. In order to remove the bad impression made on the servant who had to clean the apartment, Jonas said: “Do not be surprised, my good fellow, the Doctor does this sort of thing every day.” By this he certainly did not mean, as some have thought, that Luther was in the habit of being sick every day as the result of drink; he was merely trying to shield his friend in an embarrassing situation by alleging a permanent illness. Pastor Probst, however, according to Melanchthon’s story, betrayed Jonas by exclaiming: “What a fine excuse!” Jonas thereupon seized him by the throat and said: “Hold your tongue!” At table the pastor was anxious to return to the matter, but Jonas was able to cut him short. Melanchthon concludes the story with a touch ofsarcasm: “Hoc est quando posteriora intelliguntur ex prioribus.” Was the sickness in this case due to previous drinking?
A letter, written by Luther himself, perhaps will help to explain the matter. On the eve of his return to Wittenberg he writes from Schweinitz on Oculi Sunday, March 8, 1523, to his friend the Court Chaplain Spalatin, that he had come to Schweinitz, where the Elector’s castle stood, in order to celebrate with the father the baptism of the son of a convert Jew named Bernard. “We drank good, pure wine from the Elector’s cellar,” he says; “we should indeed be grand Evangelicals if we feasted to the same extent on the Evangel.... Please excuse us to the Prince for having drunk so much of his Grüneberger wine (‘quod tantum vini Gornbergici ligurierimus’). Jonas and his wife greet you, also the godfathers, godmothers and myself; three virgins were present, certainly Jonas, for, as he has no child, we call him a virgin.”[983]The letter, curiously disconnected and containing such strange jests, quite gives the impression of having been written after such a festive gathering as that described by the writer.
In connection with Melanchthon’s story some Protestants have recently urged that, in 1523, Luther was subject to attacks of “sudden indisposition” which came on him in the morning and from which he found relief in vomiting, and that the above incident is explained by this circumstance; the fact that he was sick “before the meal and after a lengthy drive proves that we have to do with a result not of intemperance but of nervous irritation.” Of such “sudden indispositions” arising from nervousness we, however, hear nothing, either during that year or for long after. None of the sources mention anything of the kind. On the contrary, at Whitsun, 1523, Luther wrote to Nicholas Hausmann that he felt “fairly well” (“satis bene valeo”); that he was of a nervous temperament is of course true, but that the morning hours were, as a rule, his worst we only begin to learn from his letters in 1530 and 1532; there, moreover, he does not mention sickness, but merely “giddiness and the attacks of Satan,” which were wont to come on him before breakfast, (“prandium,”[984]a meal taken about 9 or 10 a.m.). Melanchthon’s story speaks, however, not of the morning at all, but of the time before the “coena” (i.e. the principal meal, taken about 5 p.m.), when Luther was presumably no longer fasting.
Still, it would be better not to lay too much stress on this isolated particular incident.[985]
Next in the series of statements coming from preachers of the new Evangel, we meet that of Johann Agricola, who, accordingto Thiele, in the recently discovered notes of his (above, p. 216), when he had already separated from Luther, represents him as a “drunken profligate,” “who gave the rein to his passions and whom only his wife’s sway could influence for good.” Agricola says that Luther had contemptuously put aside certain letters of his, but “at last read them one morning before the wine had mounted to his head (‘mane, nondum vino calefactus’). Then he showed himself willing to take me into favour again”; this being the result of Katey’s intercession.
After this we have the testimony of the Swiss theologian, Leo Judæ, who, as Kolde tells us,[986]in the letter to Bucer quoted above (p. 277) and dated April 24, 1534, “reproaches Luther with drunkenness and all manner of things, and declares that such a bishop he would not tolerate even in the tiniest diocese.”
Valentine Ickelsamer, in 1525, voices the “fanatics,” whom Luther was attacking so vigorously, in his complaint, that the latter was “careless and heedless amidst all our needs, and spent his time in utter unconcern with the beer-swillers”; before this he had already said: “I am well acquainted with your behaviour, having been for a while a student at Wittenberg; I will, however, say nothing of your gold finger-ring, which gives scandal to so many people, or of the pleasant room overlooking the water where you drink and make merry with the other doctors and gentlemen.”[987]Neither Ickelsamer nor his friends formulate against Luther any explicit charge of startling or habitual excess. His daily habits, as just depicted, seemed to them to be at variance with his claim to being a divinely appointed preacher, called to raise mankind to higher things, but this was chiefly on account of their own peculiar narrow mysticism. It was from the same standpoint that, wishing to absolve himself from the charge of “inciting to rebellion,” Thomas Münzer, in 1524, writes in his “Schutzrede”[988]against the “witless, wanton lump of flesh at Wittenberg,” also twitting Luther with his “luxurious living” (vol. ii., p. 131), i.e. the daintiness of his food.
With regard to Simon Lemnius, it will suffice to refer to the passage already adduced (p. 274): “Luther boasts of being an evangelical bishop; how then comes it that he lives so far from temperately, being wont to surfeit himself with food and drink?” It is unnecessary to repeat how much caution must be exercised in appealing to this writer’s statements.
Among Catholic critics the first place is taken by the theologian, Ambrosius Catharinus, an Italian who lived far from Germany. His statement regarding Luther’s dancing and drinking has already been given (p. 276). This, together with many other ofhis strictures[989]on Luther’s teaching and work, were collected by Cochlæus. Catharinus was present at the Council of Trent from 1546-1547 and such reports as these may there have reached his ears. That Luther danced, or as Catharinus says, even led the dances, is not vouched for in any source. Only concerning Melanchthon have we a credible report, that he “sometimes danced.” On the other hand, we do know that Luther was frequently present at balls, weddings, christenings and other such occasions when food and drink were to be had in plenty. So distinguished and pleasant a guest was naturally much in demand, as Luther himself tells us on several occasions.
Luther’s letter to Spalatin, on January 14, 1524, concerning the (real or imaginary) agent sent by King Ferdinand to enquire into his life at Wittenberg, also speaks of the report carried to Court of his intercourse with women and habits of drunkenness (vol. ii., p. 132 f.).
Shortly before, in 1522, Count Hoyer of Mansfeld, a Catholic, wrote in a letter to Count Ulrich of Helfenstein, brought to light by a Protestant historian, “that Luther was a thorough scoundrel, who drank deeply, as was the custom at Mansfeld, played the lute, etc.” (vol. ii., p. 131). If, as we find recounted elsewhere, Luther, on his journey to the Diet, and at Worms itself, partook freely of the costly wines in which his enthusiastic friends pledged him, this was, after all, no great crime. It is probable, however, that some worse tales to Luther’s discredit in this matter of drinking had come to Hoyer’s ear.
At the time of the Diet of Worms, Aleander, the Papal Legate there present, indeed writes that Luther was “addicted to drunkenness,”[990]but the credulous diplomat probably trusted to what he heard from parties hostile to Luther and little acquainted with him. (See vol. ii., p. 78 f.) It is also a fact that, to Italians imbued with the idea that the Germans were drunkards, even quite moderate drinking might seem scandalous.
Cochlæus says of Luther in 1524: “According to what I hear, in his excessive indulgence in beer, Luther is worse than a debauchee.”[991]Here again we have merely an echo of statements made by strangers, albeit in this instance stronger and more positive.—Less weight is to be attached to the account of Jacob Ziegler of Landau, who writes from Rome to Erasmus on February 16, 1522, that there Luther was regarded as “given to fornication and tippling,” adding that he was considered as the precursor of Antichrist.[992]—Of the inhabitants of Wittenberg generally Ulrich Zasius complains, in a letter of December 21,1521, to Thomas Blaurer, that it was reported they ran almost daily to communion but afterwards swilled beer to such an extent that they were unable to recognise each other.[993]To his other charges against the life led there and against the heads of the movement, Blaurer replied, but, curiously enough, the complaint of drunkenness he does not even refer to.[994]From the detailed description given by a Catholic Canon of Wittenberg on December 29, 1521, we do, however, learn that the greatest abuses prevailed in connection with the Supper, and that some even communicated who had previously been indulging in brandy.[995]
The last witness had nothing to say of Luther personally. On the other hand, another does state that, the night before his death, he was “plane obrutus potu.” This, however, comes from a later writer, who lived far away and has shown himself otherwise untrustworthy.[996]
Another less unreliable report also has to do with Luther’s death-bed. Johann Landau, the Mansfeld apothecary, who was a Catholic, and had occasion to handle Luther’s corpse, left the following in the notes he made: “In consequence of excessive eating and drinking the body was full of corrupt juices,” Luther had “exceeded in the use of sweet foreign wines.” “It is said,” he continues, “that he drank every day at noon and in the evening a sextar of rich foreign wine.”[997]This statement does not appear to be restricted to the last days of Luther’s life, which were spent with Count Mansfeld. It is well known that Luther died after a meal. What amount the “sextar” and the “stuebchen,” to be mentioned immediately, represented has not yet been determined, as the measures differed so much in various parts of the country. The sextar, according to G. Agricola, was usually a quarter of the stuebchen, as, according to him, twenty-four sextars or six stuebchen went to one amphora; the sextar itself contained four gills.[998]In a letter of Luther’s, dating from the period of his stay at Mansfeld, we find the following: “We live well here,” he writes to Katey, “and the council allows me for each meal half a gallon of excellent Rheinfall. Sometimes I drink it with my companions. The wine produced here is also good and the Naumburg beer quite capital.”[999]Rheinfall (more correctly Reinfal) was a southern wine then highly prized.[1000]Luther, as a rule, preferred to keep to Naumburg beer.[1001]
The following statements of Luther’s concerning his indulgence in spirituous liquors are especially noteworthy; of these some have been quoted without sufficient attention being paid to their real meaning.
“Know that all goes well with me here,” Luther writes in 1540 from Weimar to his Katey, who was anxious about him; “I feed like a Bohemian, and swill like a German, for which God be thanked, Amen.”[1002]Soon after he repeats, in a letter to the same addressee, the phrase which has since grown famous, this time in a slightly amended form: Know “that we are well and cheerful here, thanks be to God; we feed like Bohemians, though not too much, and swill like Germans, not deeply but with jollity.”[1003]He is fond of thus speaking of his “feeding and swilling,” though, such expressions being less unconventional then than now, stress must not be laid on them. In both letters he was clearly seeking by his jests to reassure his wife, who was concerned for his health. During his last weeks at Eisleben he also wrote to Katey: “We have plenty on which to feed and swill.”[1004]
“If the Lord God holds me excused,” he says in a famous utterance in the Table-Talk, “for having plagued Him for quite twenty years by celebrating Mass, He assuredly will excuse me for sometimes indulging in a drink to His honour; God grant it and let the world take it as it will.”[1005]
Of the last decade of Luther’s life his pupil Mathesius relates, that, in the evening, “if not inclined for sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing: ‘You young fellows must not mind if our Elector and an old chap like me take a generous drink; we have to try and find our pillow and our bolster in the tankard.’”[1006]The same witness relates another utterance of about the same time: “He came home from a party anddrank the health of a guest: ‘I must make merry to-day, for I have received bad tidings; for this there is no better cure than a fervent Paternoster and a brave heart. For the demon of melancholy is much put out when a man insists upon being merry.’”[1007]
Here we have two reasons, want of sleep and depression resulting from bad news, which induced him to have a “good drink.” A third reason was furnished by his temptations to doubt and vacillate in faith. The “good drink” must not, however, be too deep as it “recently was at the Electoral couchee at Torgau, where, not satisfied with the usual measures, they pledged each other in half-gallon cans. That they called a good drink.Sic inventa lege inventa est et fraus legis.”[1008]
Luther’s advice to his pupil Hieronymus Weller, when the latter was tempted and troubled, as stated above (p. 175), was to follow his example and “to drink deeper and jest more freely,” and to answer the devil when he objected to such drinking, that “he would drink all the more because he forbade it”; he himself (Luther), for no other reason, was wont to drink more deeply and talk more freely than to scorn the devil by his “hard drinking.”[1009]“When troubled with gloomy thoughts,” he declared on another occasion, it was his habit “to have a good pull at the beer”; Melanchthon had a different sort of remedy, viz. consulting the stars; Luther, however, considered his practice the better one.[1010]
These and such-like utterances circulated far and wide, often in a highly exaggerated form, and Luther had only himself to thank if many Catholics, on the strength of them, came to regard him as a regular drunkard. This impression was in no way diminished by the rough humour which accompanied his talk of eating and drinking. People then were perfectly acquainted with the fact that the Table-Talk was regarded, even by some enthusiastic Lutherans, as only a half revelation, the truth being that they did not make sufficient allowance for Luther’s vein of humour and exaggeration.
It was, however, quite seriously that Luther spoke inAugust, 1540, when the excessive drinking of the miners was discussed at table: “It is not well,” he said, “but if they work hard for the rest of the week, then we must allow them some relaxation (at the week-end). Their work is hard and very dangerous and some allowance must be made for the custom of the country. I, too, have an occasional tipple, but not everybody must follow my example, for not all have the work to do that I have.”[1011]Here, accordingly, we have a fourth reason alleged in excuse of his drinking, possibly the most usual and practical one, viz. his fatiguing work.—In May of the same year he expressed his opinion of the extent to which drinking might be allowable in certain circles; this he did because he had been accused of not reproving drunkenness at the Court: “On the contrary,” he says, “I have spoken strongly about it before the whole Court; truly I spoke forcibly and severely to the nobles, reproaching them with tempting and corrupting the Prince. This greatly pleased the old gentleman [the Elector Johann], for he lived temperately.... I said to the nobles: ‘You ought to employ yourselves after dinner in the Palæstra or in some other good exercise, after which you might have a good drink, for drinking is permissible, but drunkenness never (ebrietas est ferenda, sed ebriositas minime).’”[1012]“Cheerful people,” he said in May or June, “may sometimes indulge more freely in wine,” but if drinking makes a man angry, he must avoid it like “poison.” These words were meant for his nephew, Hans Polner, who was in the habit of returning to Luther’s house much the worse for drink. With him Luther was very wroth: “On your account I am ill-spoken of by foreigners. My foes spy out everything that goes on about me.... When you do some mischief while drunk, you forget what shame you are bringing not only upon me and on my house, but on the town, the Church and the Evangel. Others after a drinking-boutare merry and friendly; such was the case with my father; they simply sing and jest; but you, you fly into a rage.”[1013]
Luther, when preaching to the people, often denounced the prevalent habit of drinking, a circumstance which must not be overlooked when passing judgment upon him. The German vice of drunkenness which he saw increasing around him in the most alarming manner caused him such distress, that he exclaimed in one of his postils: “Our poor German land is chastised and plagued with this devil of drink, and altogether drowned in this vice, so that life and limb, possessions and honour, are shamefully lost while people lead the life of swine, so that, had we to depict Germany, we should have to show it under the image of a sow.”[1014]Only “the little children, virgins and women” were exempt from the malady; “unless God strikes at this vice by a national calamity everything will go down to the abyss, all sodden through and through with drink.”[1015]Was this the way to be grateful “to the light of the Evangel” which had burst upon Germany?[1016]His question shows that he was speaking primarily of the conditions prevailing under the new Evangel. Looking back on the Catholic past he has perforce to admit, that, although this vice was by no means unknown then, yet “I remember that when I was young it [drunkenness] was looked upon by the nobility as a great shame, and that worthy gentry and Princes sought to combat it by wise prohibitions and penalties; but now it is even worse and more prevalent amongst them than amongst the peasants; so far has it come that even Princes and men of gentle birth learn it from their squires, and are not ashamed of it; it is regarded as honourable and quite a virtue by Princes, nobles and burghers, so that whosoever refuses to become a sodden brute is despised.”[1017]
In powerful passages such as these he assails the vice from both the natural and the supernatural standpoint. Yet his chief complaint is not so much its existence as its appalling extent; his reproofs are intended for those who “get drunk daily,” for those “maddened and sodden with drink,” for those who “day and night are ever pouring theliquor down their throats.” He expressly states that he is willing to be lenient in cases where a man is drunk only now and again. “It may be borne with and overlooked,” he says in the sermon quoted, “if from time to time a person by mistake takes a glass too much, or, after being exhausted by labour and toil, gets a little the worse for drink.”[1018]
In 1534, in an exposition of Psalm ci., where he describes the doings of the “Secular Estate,” he is no less hopeless concerning this plague which afflicts Germany: “Every country must have its own devil; our German devil is a good skin of wine and surely his name is Swill”; until the last day eternal thirst would remain the German’s curse; it was quite useless to seek to remedy matters, Swill still remained the all-powerful god.[1019]More dignified language would assuredly have been better in place here and elsewhere where he deals with this subject. For quaint homeliness it would, however, be hard to beat him; referring to their drinking habits, he tells the great men at the Court: “In the morning you really look as though your heads had been pickled in brine.”[1020]Yet, from the very passage in the Table-Talk where this is recounted, we learn that he said to the guests, again in a far too indulgent strain: “The Lord God must account the drunkenness of us Germans a mere daily [i.e. venial] sin, for we are unable to give it up; nevertheless, it is a shameful curse, harmful alike to body, soul and property.”
Within Luther’s camp the chief witnesses to his temperate habits are Melanchthon and Mathesius.
Melanchthon in his formal panegyric on the deceased says, that “though a stout man, he was very moderate in eating and drinking (‘natura valde modici cibi et potus’). I have seen him, when quite in good health, abstaining entirely from food and drink for four days. At other times I frequently saw him content himself for many days with a little bread with kippers.”[1021]His four days’ abstinence, however, probably coincided with one of his attacks—“temptations,” which, as we know from Ratzeberger, his medical adviser, were usually accompanied by intense dislike for food. Besides, before his marriage, Lutherhad not the same attention and care he received later from his wife. It is not unlikely that Melanchthon was thinking of this period when he speaks of the “bread and kippers,” for the passage really refers to the beginning of his acquaintanceship with Luther, possibly even to his monastic days. However this may be, we must not forget that the clause is part of a panegyric.Mathesius, Luther’s attentive pupil and admirer, says of him in his sermons, that Luther, “although he was somewhat corpulent, ate and drank little and rarely anything out of the common, but contented himself with ordinary food. In the evening, if not inclined to sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing.”[1022]
Melanchthon in his formal panegyric on the deceased says, that “though a stout man, he was very moderate in eating and drinking (‘natura valde modici cibi et potus’). I have seen him, when quite in good health, abstaining entirely from food and drink for four days. At other times I frequently saw him content himself for many days with a little bread with kippers.”[1021]His four days’ abstinence, however, probably coincided with one of his attacks—“temptations,” which, as we know from Ratzeberger, his medical adviser, were usually accompanied by intense dislike for food. Besides, before his marriage, Lutherhad not the same attention and care he received later from his wife. It is not unlikely that Melanchthon was thinking of this period when he speaks of the “bread and kippers,” for the passage really refers to the beginning of his acquaintanceship with Luther, possibly even to his monastic days. However this may be, we must not forget that the clause is part of a panegyric.
Mathesius, Luther’s attentive pupil and admirer, says of him in his sermons, that Luther, “although he was somewhat corpulent, ate and drank little and rarely anything out of the common, but contented himself with ordinary food. In the evening, if not inclined to sleep, he had to take a draught to promote it, often making excuse for so doing.”[1022]
That Luther was perfectly content “without anything out of the common” is confirmed by other writers, and concerning the general frugality of his household there can be no question. In this respect we may well believe what Mathesius says, for he was a regular attendant at Luther’s evening table in the forties of the century. His assertion that Luther “drank but little” must, however, be considered in the light of other of his statements.
What Mathesius thought of the “sleeping-draught” and the feasts at which, so he relates, Luther assisted from time to time, appears from a discourse incorporated by him in his “Wedding-sermons.” Here he speaks of the “noble juice of the grape and how we can make use of it in a godly fashion and with a good conscience”; he is simply the mouthpiece of Luther. Like Luther, he condemns gluttony and “bestial drunkenness,” but is so indulgent in the matter of cheerful carousing that a Protestant Canon in the eighteenth century declared, that Mathesius had gone astray in his sermon on the use of wine.[1023]Mathesius says that we must have “a certain amount of patience” with those who sometimes, for some quite valid reason, “get a little tipsy,” or “kick over the traces,” provided they “don’t do so every day” and that “the next morning they are heartily sorry for it”; the learned were quite right in distinguishing between “ebriositas” and “ebrietas”; if a ruling Prince had worked industriously all day, or a scholar had “read and studied till his head swam,” such busy and much-tired people, if they chose “in the evening to drinkaway their cares and heavy thoughts, must be permitted some over-indulgence, particularly if it does not hinder them in the morning from praying, studying and working.”[1024]
This is the exact counterpart of Luther’s theory and practice as already described, in the distinction made between “ebriositas” and “ebrietas,” in the statement that drunkenness is no more than a venial sin, in the unseemly and jocose tone employed when speaking of tipsiness, and in the license accorded those who (like Luther) had much work to do, or (again, like Luther), were plagued with “gloomy thoughts.” The other conditions are also noteworthy, viz. that it must not be of “daily occurrence” and that the offender must afterwards be “heartily sorry”; in such a case we must be tolerant. All this agrees with Luther’s own teaching.
Such passages, coming from the master and his devoted disciple, must be taken as the foundation on which to base our judgment. Such general statements of principle must carry more weight than isolated instances of Luther’s actual practice, more even than the various testimonies considered above. In the eyes of the impartial historian, moreover, the various elements will be seen to fit into each other so as to form a whole, the elements being on the one hand the highly questionable principle we have just heard expressed, and on the other his own admissions concerning his practice, supplemented by the testimony of outsiders.
In the first place, there is no doubt that his theory was dangerously lax. We need only call to mind the string of reasons given in vindication of a “good drink” and mere “ebrietas.” Such excuses were not only insufficient but might easily be adduced daily in ever-increasing number. Luther’s limitation of the permission to occasional bouts, etc., was altogether illusory and constituted no real barrier against excess. How could such theories, we may well ask, promote temperance and self-denial? Instead of resisting the lower impulses of nature they give the reins to license.They are part and parcel of the phenomenon so noticeable in early Lutheranism, where Christian endeavour, owing to the discredit with which penance and good works were overwhelmed, was not allowed to rise above the level of ordinary life, and indeed often failed to attain even to this standard. How different sound the injunctions of Christ and His Apostles to the devoted followers of the true Gospel: Take up thy cross; resist the flesh and all its lusts; be sober and watch.
The result as regards Luther’s practice must on the whole be considered as unfavourable, though it is not of course so well known to us as his theory. It may also, quite possibly, have varied at different periods of his life, for instance, may not have been the same when Mathesius was acquainted with him, i.e. when his mode of life had become more regular, as when Count Hoyer of Mansfeld wrote so scornfully after the Diet of Worms. Nevertheless, Luther’s vigorous denunciation of habitual drunkenness on the one hand, and the extraordinary amount of work he contrived to get through on the other, also the absence of any very damaging or definite charge by those who had every opportunity of observing him at Wittenberg, for instance, the hostile Anabaptists and other “sectarians,” all this leads us to infer, that he availed himself of his theories only to a very limited extent. His own statements, however, as well as those of his friends and opponents, enable us to see that his lax principle, “ebrietas est ferenda,” was not without its effects upon his habits of life. The allegation of his joy of living, and his healthy love of the things of sense, does not avail to explain away his own admissions, nor what others laid to his charge. The worst of it is, that we gain the impression that the lax theory was conceived to suit his own case, for all the reasons which he held to excuse the “good drink” and the subsequent “ebrietas” were present in his case—depression caused by bad news, cares and gloomy thoughts, pressure of work, temptations to sadness and doubts, sleeplessness and mental exhaustion.
The task remains of considering certain further traits in Luther’s life with regard to his indulgence in drinking.
During the first part of his public career Luther himselfspeaks of the temptation to excessive eating and drinking and other bad habits to which he was exposed. This he did in 1519 in his remarkably frank confession to his superior Staupitz.[1025]Here the expression “crapula” must be taken more seriously than on another occasion when, in a letter to a friend written from the Wartburg in the midst of his arduous labours, he describes himself as “sitting idle, and ‘crapulosus.’”[1026]
After Luther’s marriage, when he had settled down comfortably in the Black Monastery, it was Catherine, who, agreeably with the then custom, brewed the beer at home. It seems, however, to have been of inferior quality, indeed not fit to set before his guests. That he had several sorts of wine in his cellar we learn on the occasion of the marriage of his niece Lena in 1538. He complains that in Germany it was very hard to buy “a really trustworthy drink,” as even the carriers adulterated the wines on the way.[1027]
As already stated, beer was his usual drink. Whilst he was “drinking Wittenberg beer with Philip and Amsdorf,” he said as early as 1522, in a well-known passage, “the Papacy had been weakened through the Word of God” which he had preached.[1028]
It was, however, with wine that on great occasions the ample “Catechismusglas” (see above, p. 219) was filled.[1029]How much this bowl contained which Luther, though not his guest Agricola, could empty at one draught, has not been determined, though illustrations of it were thought to exist. Agricola’s statement concerning his vain attempt to drain it leads us to conclude that the famous glass was of considerable size. It impresses one strangely to learn that Luther occasionally toasted his guests in a crystal beakerreputed to have once belonged to St. Elizabeth of Hungary; this too, no doubt, passed from hand to hand.[1030]
An example of Luther’s accustomed outspokenness was witnessed by some of those who happened to be present on the arrival of a Christmas gift of wine in 1538. The cask came from the Margrave of Brandenburg and, to the intense disappointment of the recipient, contained Franconian wine. Luther, in spite of the importance of the gift, made no secret of his annoyance, and his complaints would appear to have duly reached the ear of the Margrave. In order to efface the bad impression made at Court, Luther was obliged to send a letter of excuse to Sebastian Heller, the Chancellor. Therein he says he had been quite unaware of the excellence of Franconian wine, and, “like the big fool” he was, had not known that the inhabitants of Franconia were so fortunate in their wine as now, after tasting it, he had ascertained to be the case. In future he was going to stick to Franconian wine; to the Prince he sent his best thanks and trusted he would take nothing amiss.[1031]—From the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, after he had forwarded him his memorandum regarding his bigamy, he received a hogshead of Rhine wine.[1032]In the same year he received from the Town Council of Wittenberg a present of a gallon of Franconian “and four quarts of Gutterbogk wine” on the occasion of the marriage of his niece, mentioned above.
From the magistrates, in addition to other presents, came frequent gifts of liquor for himself and his guests, of which we find the entries since 1519 recorded in the Town-registers.
Only recently has attention been drawn to this.[1033]
In 1525 we find the following items: “7 Gulden for six cans of Franconian wine at 14 Groschen the quart presentedDoctori Martinoon his engagement; 136 Gulden, 6 Groschen for a barrel of Einbeck beer presentedDoctori Martinofor his wedding; 440 GuldenDoctori Martinofor wine and beer presented by the Council and the town on the occasion of his nuptials and wedding. Fine of 120 Gulden paid by Clara, wedded wife of Lorenz Eberhard dwelling at Jessen for abusive language concerning Doctor Martin and his honourable wife, and also for abusing the Pastor’s [Bugenhagen] wife at Master Lubeck’s wedding; 136 Gulden, 2 Groschen for wine sent for during the year by Doctor Martin from the town vaults and paid for by the Council.” In addition to the various “presents” made by the Council, we meet repeatedly in other years with items recording deliveries of beer or wine which Luther had sent for from the town cellar. These are entered as “owing.... The Council loath to sue him for them....” And again, “allowed to Doctor Martin this year....”
This explains the low items for liquor in Luther’s own list of household expenses, which were frequently quoted in proof of his exceptional abstemiousness. As a matter of fact, they are so small simply owing to the presents and to his requisitions on the town cellars, for much of which he never paid. “Four pfennigs daily for drink” we read in his household accounts in a Gotha MS., the date of which is uncertain.[1034]Seeing that at Wittenberg a can of beer cost 3 pfennigs, this would allow him very little. According to another entry Katey required 56 pfennigs weekly for making the beer; the date of this is equally uncertain. It is to the filial devotion of Protestant researchers that we owe this information.[1035]
Luther was in a particularly cheerful mood when he wrote, on March 18, 1535, the letter, already quoted (p. 296 f.), to his friend Caspar Müller, the Mansfeld Chancellor at Eisleben. The letter is to some extent a humorous one, but is it really a fact that in the last of the three signatures appended he qualifies himself as “Doctor plenus”?[1036]According to some controversialists such is the case.
It is true that Denifle says of this signature, now-preserved with the letter in the Vatican Library,[1037]“that the badlywritten and scarcely legible word ... either reads or might be read as ‘plenus.’”[1038]According to R. Reitzenstein, on the other hand, who also studied them, the characters cannot possibly be read thus. E. Thiele, who mentions this, suggests[1039]that perhaps we might read it as “Doctor Hans,” and that the signature in question might refer to Luther’s little son who was with him and whose greetings with those of the mother Luther sends at the end of the letter to Müller, who was the child’s godfather.
First comes the legible signature “Doctor Martinus” in Luther’s handwriting; below this, also quite legible, stands “Doctor Luther,” possibly denoting his wife, as Thiele very reasonably conjectures; finally we have the questionable “Doctor plenus.” To read “Hans” instead of “plenus,” is, according to Denifle, “quite out of the question,” as I also found when I came to examine the facsimile published by G. Evers in 1883.[1040]On the other hand, to judge by the facsimile, it appeared to me that “Johannes” might possibly be the true reading, and the Latin form also seemed to agree with that of the previous signatures. When I was able to examine the original in Rome in May, 1907, I convinced myself that, as a matter of fact, the badly formed and intertwined characters could be read as “Johannes”; this reading was also confirmed by Alfredo Monaci, the palæologist.[1041]Hence the reading “Doctor plenus,” too confidently introduced by Evers and repeated by Enders, though with a query, in his edition of Luther’s letters, may safely be consigned to oblivion. Evenhad it been correct, it would merely have afforded a fresh example of Luther’s jokes at his own expense, and would not necessarily have proved that his mirth was due to spirituous influence.
In one letter of Luther’s, which speaks of the time he passed in the Castle of Coburg, we hear more of the disagreeable than of the cheering effects of wine.
“I have brought on headache by drinking old wine in the Coburg,” he complains to his friend Wenceslaus Link, “and this our Wittenberg beer has not yet cured. I work little and am forced to be idle against my will because my head must have a rest.”[1042]In the Electoral accounts 25 Eimer of wine are set down for the period of Luther’s stay at the Coburg;[1043]seeing that he and two companions spent only 173 days there, our Protestant friends have hastened to allege “the frequent visits he received” in the Coburg.[1044]It is true that he had a good many visitors during the latter part of his stay. However this may be, the illness showed itself as early as May, 1530. His own diagnosis here is no less unsatisfactory than the accounts concerning the other maladies from which he suffered. No doubt the malady was chiefly nervous.
In October of that same year, Luther protested that he had been “very abstemious in all things”[1045]at the Coburg, and Veit Dietrich, his assistant at that time, wrote in the same sense on July 4: “I carefully observed that he did not transgress any of the rules of diet.”[1046]His indisposition showed itself in unbearable noises in the head, at times accompanied by extreme sensitiveness to light.[1047]Luther was convinced that the trouble was due to the qualities of the strong wines provided for him at the castle—or, possibly, to the devil. “We are very well off,” he says in June, 1530, “and live finely, but for almost a month past I have been plagued not only with noises but with actual thunderingin my head, due, perhaps, to the wine, perhaps to the malice of Satan.”[1048]Veit Dietrich inclined strongly to the latter view. He tells us of the apparition of a “flaming fiery serpent” under which form the devil had manifested himself to Luther during his solitude in the Coburg: “On the following day he was plagued with troublesome noises in his head; thus the greater part of what he suffered was the work of the devil.”[1049]Luther himself complained in August of a fresh indisposition, this time scarcely due to nerves, which, according to him, was the result either of wine, or of the devil. “I am troubled with a sore throat, such as I never had before; possibly the strong wine has increased the inflammation, or perhaps it is a buffet of Satan [2 Cor. xii. 7].”[1050]Four days later he wrote again: “My head still buzzes and my throat is worse than ever.”[1051]In the following month some improvement showed itself, and even before this he had days free from suffering; still, after quitting the Coburg, he still complained of incessant headache caused, as he thought, by the “old wine.” When all is said, however, it does seem that later controversialists were wrong in so confidently attributing his illness in the Coburg merely to excessive love of the bottle.
Luther often vaunted the wholesome effects of beer. In a letter to Katey dated February 1, 1546, he extols the aperient qualities of Naumburg beer.[1052]In another to Jonas, dated May 15, 1542, he speaks of the good that beer had done in relieving his sufferings from stone; beer was to be preferred to wine; much benefit was also to be derived from a strict diet.[1053]
All these traits from Luther’s private life, taken as a whole, may be considered to confirm the opinion expressed above, p. 311 f., regarding the charges which may stand against him and those of which he is to be acquitted.