Chapter 4 of 14 · 5070 words · ~25 min read

CHAPTER III

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EARLY HISTORY OF BEER—CONTINUED.

With the close of the preceding chapter we had intended to leave this branch of the subject, but a paper of Hans von der Planitz, written in German on the same topic, is so interesting that we cannot do better than quote a considerable portion. It is written with genuine enthusiasm and is valuable not merely for its facts regarding the early history of beer, but also as a picture of customs and manners, often given in the words of writers contemporary with the circumstances described. The picturesque or realistic effect of the old German has been as far as possible preserved in the rendering of passages written in that style, and very often the original is added in a note or otherwise, for the enjoyment of readers who are able to appreciate its flavor. Quotation at such length has involved a trifling amount of repetition of matter already stated, but it has seemed better to submit to this than to mutilate an independent account, much of whose effect depends on its manner of developing the subject. Commencing with the ninth century the writer says:

“Beer brewing in England and Flanders is mentioned by Walafried Strabo. (849 A. D.) It had been known from a remote antiquity and continued in use partly, at least, through Celtic influence. In France beer gradually gave place to wine, while in Germany it made good its position, and lager beer was discovered as early as the thirteenth century, that of the Mark being especially celebrated. In Bohemia the earliest account of beer brewing dates as far back as 1086 A. D. Poland and Prussia were addicted to the barley juice before the time of modern civilization and honored a special god of beer, _Raugunzemapat_, whose name is derived from _rugti_, to ferment, and literally signifies the god of fermentation. In Bavaria, where, under Roman influence, wine growing had attained an important place which it was destined afterwards to lose, beer was commonly known within the first thousand years of the present era and is mentioned by Voehrung, 816, and others. According to Graesse it was a dull brown and reddish drink and soured easily. In the more primitive districts oats were used as the basis, and only “upper-ferment” beer was made. In the latter part of the middle ages the process by “under fermentation” was discovered, its origin, according to Professor Holzner of Weihenstephan, being in one of the monasteries. From this point beer brewing increased vigorously until Bohemian competition and Bohemian hops gave it a staggering check. In the southern countries of Europe beer does not easily give place to wine though hard pushed, while in Asia and Africa the inhabitants use their traditionary drink from one generation to another, and in Egypt especially, the Arabs acquired a taste for the beer of the Copts. Such was the condition of things when the dawn of a new age showed itself on the horizon.

“The characteristic of a period is found essentially in its variation from the adjacent epochs, and that of the one under consideration has been already indicated. But beside the scientific researches, that had very little connection with trade, there grew up a descriptive literature that stands in close relation to the first general empire of beer. To suppose that the present age is the first time of real triumph for the liquor of Gambrinus, shows a very superficial knowledge of the history of civilization, for apart from the Egyptian and Celtic-Germanic beer epochs, which were somewhat local, we have already long passed the real first period of success which fell in the time of the _Renaissance_. In those days the brown flood spread out not merely over Germany, England and Belgium, but into the far corners of recently discovered countries; in village taverns and _rathskellers_ peasants and citizens drank themselves full and merry. At the high schools the students already went to the _kneipen_ with their rapiers (_spiessen_) and swords, studied and rioted behind the tin can, and in the banquet halls of princes and the cabinets of noble ladies, the barley juice was a favorite beverage, not swallowed hastily from tumblers, but taken with deliberation and full enjoyment from deep, wide-mouthed mugs or tankards. Seven maas a day was the allowance for a lady of high rank.[2] About the end of the seventeenth century the increasing use of brandy and coffee put a stop to this immoderate consumption, as at the same time the influence of France and the colonies with their new dishes and resulting change of tastes, brought about the progress from middle age cookery to that of modern times, and as the Gustavus Adolphus boots and wide-brimmed plumed hats gave place to silk stockings and perukes. The present age witnesses the second triumph of Gambrinus, a triumph perhaps even greater than the first, for though the capacity of individuals is far from equal to that of the men of the Renaissance, except in the case of some academic beer soakers and Munich _Danaidenfaesser_ (bottomless vessels), yet the distribution of beer is more extensive, more general and more uniform. The consumption in Europe alone has increased tenfold within fifty years and grows constantly. In the first quarter of this century the wave spread from Bavaria farther and farther over the whole map of Europe, and about twenty years ago a new source was opened in Austria, and the Vienna beer flowed through the canals which the Bavarian product had opened.

[2] Sieben Maas Bier per Tag vors graefliche Frauenzimmer war Vorschrift.

This first epoch stands in close relation with the general abounding strength of that period of civilization. Adventurous sailors and explorers had broken the bonds of the known earth, plain men had dared to enter the lists with that hierarchy, to attack which had been held profanation; art had thrown aside the old traditions and brought out the old master-works, the world of scholars had torn itself loose from petrified scholasticism and turned to the ancient classics, and, as in most branches of science, so also in chemistry, there was a genuine revolution, and it was studied in reference to medicine almost as assiduously as it had previously been in the search for the philosopher’s stone. New inquiries were set on foot, old problems revived and attacked from a new point of view, and among these the subjects of yeast and fermentation played an important part. Not many decades have passed since the practical brewer found neither interest nor profit in theories of fermentation, and especially all chemical and physical discussion of his work and processes. The purely scientific style which too often had very little reference to the practical man, and the various contradictory views and learned controversies were not calculated to attract the interest of the beer brewer. Scholars discussed and disputed, the man of trade brewed and coopered, and neither paid any attention to the other. Now the case is very different. Intelligent and thoughtful brewers have been forced to admit that an insight into the nature of the materials they use, and the changes these undergo while in their hands will not merely enlarge their intellectual horizon, but be of great practical use in their business, and in consequence are found keenly alive to the progress of scientific inquiry.

Some reference has already been made to the empirical knowledge of the earlier ages. Even Pliny’s often quoted “_Palam est naturam (farinæ) acore fermentari_” is merely a summary of the result of observation. Noah’s wine making, the leaven[3] of the Jews and such like may be left to special history. The word _fermentum_ as used by the alchemists has no very definite meaning; in general their explanation is to the effect that by means of the ferment a purifying and refining process is set in action—and hence many efforts were made to discover a general ferment by whose instrumentality it would become possible among other things, to transform the baser metals into gold. For this reason they often use the word _fermentum_ to indicate the anxiously sought “philosopher’s stone.”[4] The indefinite character of the word is mentioned by Petrus Bonus of Ferrara (1345): “_Apud philosophos fermentum dupliciter videtur dici: uno modo ipse lapis philosophorum ex suis elementis compositus et completus, in comparatione ad metalla; alio modo illud quod est perficiens lapidem et ipsum complens_,” and Raymond Lull’s definition, “_Fili, fermentum est corpus perfectum, subtiliatum et alteratum per potestatem convertentium_,” has the predicate so indefinite as to give no real information. We add another quotation from the same author merely to show further the jargon these men of learning were accustomed to use. He writes “_Fili, præparatio istius est, quod illud sit transactum primo per naturæ principalia controvertentia, antequam de isto facias fermentationem, quia illud fiat principio pulvis calcinatus per coagulationem et quarto sublimatus per separationem._” George Ripley’s consideration of the subject calls for no special notice, but the views of Basilius Valentinus who wrote in the latter half of the fifteenth century will be found more interesting. He held fermentation to be a purification by means of which the spirit of wine that already existed in a fluid was put in condition to act, unfermented beer being dead, “because existing impurities prevent the spirit from doing its work. Yeast induces in beer an internal quickening that advances of itself and results in a division and segregation of the clear and muddy elements, and after this separation _puri ab impuro_ the spirit can accomplish its duty successfully, as appears from the subsequent power of the liquor to produce intoxication.” Valentine is the last in the series of scholars who though belonging chronologically to a previous epoch must from the nature and relations of their inquiries be reckoned as belonging to the new era. It is not in the history of progress as in that of politics where two adjacent periods can be sharply defined and their limits assigned to exact dates. Progress goes on gradually, modifying or adding to what has already existed, and we do not clearly notice the transformation until it is complete or at least far advanced. So it was in this case. Far back in the middle ages men turned their attention to the “ferment” and to fermentation. Much was written, much nonsense and humbug published; almost no results were attained, but the beginning was made. Men of the later time grasped the collected material, regulated and systematized the inquiry and vied with each other in its prosecution. Struggle and activity were then so universal that there was a disposition to consider fermentation a special branch of chemistry, and after treating of the fermentation of wine, beer, vinegar, etc., it was suggested that the whole vital process might be nothing more than a continual fermentation.

[3] _Galliæ et Hispaniæ frumento in potum resoluto spuma ita concreta pro fermento utuntur; qua de causa levior illis quam ceteris panis est._

[4] _De fermento, sine quo ars alchemiæ perfeci et compleri non potest._

[Illustration: View of a Brewery connected with a convent in Bohemia (14th century), as described by Thaddeus Hagecius ab Hayek, 1585, in his book, written in Latin, under the title, _De cerevisia_.]

Notwithstanding all that has been said it seems best to date the new epoch definitely from the beginning of the sixteenth century, and this although we can reckon no names or events of importance in the year 1501, and must pass over a number of decades to reach Libarius the first theorist of the second epoch. The reasons for such a division are various, partly to remove as far as possible all uncertainty from the discussion, partly because at that memorable time the general break with blind tradition and the development of new intellectual and social conditions took place in such a manner as to have a direct influence on the history of beer and so connect the general revolution with the province of zymotechnic inquiry. If we date from Libarius we commit an anachronism, for he stands in the full light of the new era. In short, beer and its history are so intimately related to social life and its development that we cannot consider the former alone and without regard to the latter. The oldest book in this sort of literature at present known, was published in 1530, under the title, “An Excellent Little Book of the Making of Wine and Beer so that they may be Useful and Wholesome to Man. Printed at Erfurt by Melchior Sachssen at Noah’s Ark.”[5] In 1551, a scholar (Plocotamus) wrote “_De natura cerevisiarum et de mulso_,” and somewhat later (1585) Thaddeus Hagecius ab Hayek wrote in Latin a work with the title “_De cerevisia ejusque conficiendi ratione, natura, viribus et facultatibus_.” More important than any of these is a book written in German by Heinrich Knaust, its value consisting not so much in historical deductions as in a review, grounded on the personal knowledge of the author, of the facts regarding beer in his time. It is chiefly through this volume that we are able to form a clear conception of the high development and actual power of beer at the end of the sixteenth century. On the first page of the book the master wrote in a style thoroughly characteristic of the period with its swelling, stilted bombast and magniloquence, the famous title, “Five Books of the Divine and Noble Gift of the Philosophical, Precious and Admirable Art of Beer Brewing. Also of the names of the most Admirable Beers in all Germany, and of their Natures, Temperaments, Qualities, Individual Characters, Wholesomeness, and Unwholesomeness, whether wheat or barley, white or red beer, spiced or not spiced. Newly revised and much Fuller and More Perfect than the former edition. By Master Heinrich Knaust, Doctor of Law and of Medicine. Published at Erfurt by George Baumann, 1575, in the twelfth month.”[6] As a matter of curiosity we reproduce his view of the origin of beer. According to this the men before the deluge ate herbs and vegetables and drank water, and he thinks it strange that they should ever have plucked up heart to become saucy on such a diet. “After the deluge they received the gift of wine, and where no vines grew God taught them to make a drink of wheat and barley that was both healthful and agreeable and as well fitted to strengthen and support the human system as wine itself.”

[5] Ein schoenes Buechlein von bereytung der wein und bier zu gesundheit und nutzbarkeit der menschen gedruckt zu Erffurd durch Melchior Sachssen zu der Archen Noe.

[6] Fuenf Buecher von der goettlichen und edeln Gabe der philosophischen hochteuren und wunderbaren Kunst Bier zu brauen. Auch von Namen der vornempstere Biere in ganz Teutschland und von deren Naturen, Temperamenten, Qualitaten, Art und Eigenschaft, Gesundheit und Ungesundheit, sey ein Weitzen oder Gersten, Weisse oder Rotte Biere, Gewuertzet oder Ungewuertzet. Aufs neue uebersehen und in viel wege ueber vorige edition gemehrt und gebessert. Durch Herrn Heinrich Knausten, beider Rechten Doctor. Getr. zu Erfurt durch Georgium Baumann 1575 in 12.

When a well known physician of Berlin, Dr. F. G. Zimmerman, felt himself compelled to declare beer a poison, it was Abraham A. Santa Clara of Vienna who, in his “History of the Discovery of Beer,” entitled “Something for All,” 1710, spoke as follows: “Noah planted the first vineyard and the culture of the vine afterwards spread all over the world, but as some climates are too harsh for the grape and prevent its ripening, human ingenuity was forced to discover another drink which should not merely quench thirst, but like wine excite the brain.[7] Among the Germans it is called beer, and its brewing requires a special experience, so that the men of this craft are not counted least among workmen.” So said also Ehinger, Fritsch, Germershausen, Gleditsch, Heuman, Hofman, Sensky, Solms and Trafenreuter. In all this scientific and learned emulation in the matter of fermentation (zymologie) we learn plainly enough that even the representatives of science did not confine their attention to a purely theoretical consideration of the barley juice, but hid the contents of many a can and mug behind their wide stiff collars, the clergy taking their full share in this part of the discussion. Luther’s fondness for beer is well known, and on the evening of that eventful day at Worms, April 18, 1521, the Duke Erich von Braunschweig, sent him a pot of Eimbecker beer, to which he was specially addicted. The students, whether of medicine or theology, used every effort to follow faithfully the illustrious example, whence perhaps it comes that the youth of the high schools and universities, wedded to tradition, still delight to hang about the inviting, wide-yawning door of the cool beer cellar. In the Renaissance, however, the last trace of the _Biercomment_ and _Bierspielen_ was finally lost.

[7] Der Noë hat zwar den ersten Weinstock gepflantzt welches Gewuechs nachmals durch die ganze Welt ausgebreitet worden; weil aber etlicher Orten der rauhe Luft dem Weinstock zuwider und folgsam, solcher in dergleichen Orten nicht fruchtsam tuht, also hat der Menschen Witz ein anderes Trunk erfunden welches nicht allein den Durst loeschet sondern gleich dem Wein, auch den Tuermel in den Kopf bringt.

[8] The common people would not sober stay, Could find to cup or mouth the nearest way; Enjoyed their life, and of the barley’s blood Swilled day and night the brown and foamy flood.

[8] Des Volks gemeine Horte blieb nicht hinten, Es wusste Kneip’ und maul sehr wohl zu finden; Im Hochgenuss des Seins, aus Schlauch und Fass Soff’s Tag und nacht das edle braune Nass.

Beer was retailed in beer-houses and vaults, and in warm weather before the door, and places which had the hereditary right of brewing also sold beer occasionally in the living room of the house, and announced the fact by a mat-weed stuck horizontally above the door. In this custom we see plainly enough the origin of the later shop signs. In Oberpfalz (the Upper Palatinate), in the Schwarzwald (Black Forest), and elsewhere, even now when a privileged brewer wishes to give notice that he will sell on draught, he hangs up a broom or a triangle of fir boughs. The publicans of a later time simply exchange this primitive advertisement for the more durable ones of tin and iron. Before the windows of the pot houses were folding tables at which the wagoners usually preferred to drink, and the wandering bands, of whom there was then an immense number, were accustomed to seat themselves at these same tables and pass the time in riotous talk and games of dice until the “beer bell” of the place broke up the assembly and drove them to their homes and to the inn.[9] When a fair was held the women dealers in refreshments (Kretschenweiber) took possession of the benches and sold their beer there in cups of tin, stone or wood, while bread, meat, sausages, cheese, etc., were brought from the neighboring stands of the butchers and bakers, for even then people liked to do their business where wine and beer were close at hand. On any occasion of public festivity beer booths were a prime necessity, bagpipes and fiddles were not wanting and a lusty, merry throng danced in the open space between the crowded benches and tables. The Netherlandish painters have left us hundreds of cabinet pictures of these festivities and of the manner and fashion in which they were carried on, and their delightful and characteristic variations of the theme enable us to form a vivid conception of what it must have been. Especially worthy of notice in this respect are Teniers, (whose “Yearly Market”[10] in the Munich Pinakothek contains 1138 human figures, 45 horses, 67 asses, 37 dogs, etc., curiously crowded in a jovial throng,) P. Brueghel, the Ostades, Brower, Jan Steen, who from a fancy for this sort of life himself became a tavern keeper, and Rubens, whose sketches in this sort are strikingly good. During the “Thirty Years War,” that is, at the very culminating point of the epoch, tobacco came into use and the now inseparable pair, “beer and tobacco,” played an important rôle together even then. Barley and “mixed corn” (rye and wheat, barley and oats, oats and rye,) were chiefly used for brewing purposes, but there were always those who preferred plant beer. It is interesting to know that pitch was supposed to give the product of fermentation a better keeping quality.

[9] See the Civil Law of Erfurt.

[10] The picture is eight feet high and twelve feet wide.

We must not omit to mention that this beer worship was not so well developed in South Germany where it is now best marked, as in North Germany. Saxony, the Mark and Pomerania were mentioned as “the great drinking countries.” There was a swarm of names celebrated in beer, and Knaust’s book shows that it was held no small credit to have drunk various noted kinds of beer where they were made. There was a Lubeck Israel, an old Klaus (Brandenburg), a Goslauer Gose, a Hanover Braehan, a Soltzman at Saltzwedel, a Rastrun at Leipsic, beer of Corvey, beer of Harlem, Dantzic brew, Eimbecker brew, and many others.[11] Of English beer, Hersford (Kamma) and the Yorkshire ale were chiefly esteemed. Most celebrated of all, however, was the Braunschweig _Mumme_, named for its discoverer, Christian Mumme (1492). By the side of these brewing celebrities the old beer cities of the middle ages had retained their character into the time of the Renaissance, as for instance, Hamburg, with its wheat beer,[12] and others; and many places made every effort to reach a similar position, partly by the adoption of new methods, and partly by the enlargement and increase of beer breweries. In Nuremberg, for instance, the first white beer was brewed in 1541; in Vienna the brewery with a hundred towers was built in 1564; breweries were erected at Gumpendorf in 1689, and at St. Marx in 1706; and in 1633 there were established at Freiburg six malt-houses and twelve breweries.

[11] To these should be added the celebrated beers of Cottbus, and the Karthuser of Frankfort on the Oder.—_Author._

[12] Wheat beer played an important rôle in the thirty years war. Wallenstein himself was very much addicted to its use.

The important beer privileges that had been so eagerly grasped by the monasteries and cities in the middle ages, were by hereditary right brought over into the new era. The landed estates of the nobles received back in 1517 the privileges which had been so long kept from them, and by this means all obstacles were removed from the beer traffic which had reached so hopeful a development during the middle ages, and it became possible for it to develop to an extent of which our own time need not be ashamed. Now it is no great matter to transport beer from Vienna to Paris by rail and in iced compartments, but we can not but admire the successful enterprise that in those days and with such means of transportation as existed, could export Eimbecker beer to Lombardy as described by the Italian Arnoldus of Villanova in 1594, and even to Alexandria and Cairo. Nuremberg was one of the great centers of the beer trade. Rostock and Lubeck supplied all England and sent not less than 800,000 barrels yearly to that country until the business was checked by a marked increase in the quantity brewed by the English themselves. A number of the large English breweries were founded about this time.

In the households of the reigning princes, there was a strong tendency to supplement the native brew by imported products, and at such festivities as marriages, christenings, target-shooting and hunting, immense quantities of drink were swallowed. The cellar ordinance of Duke Ernst the Pious, in 1648, allowed for ladies of noble rank four _maas_ of beer a day, and three _maas_ for a “nightcap.” How much ought in such circumstances to be the allowance for a man of similar rank, and of his hangers on is left to the imagination of the reader.

Noble families that had no brew-houses were obliged to supply themselves from the brewery of the prince. A beer tax also was levied on vassals who brewed their own beer. An excellent illustration of the condition of things is afforded by the celebrated Hofbrauhaus at Munich, in whose whitewashed rooms every stranger still takes at least one _maas_. As early as the time of Louis the Severe, there existed a little court brewery at Munich near the _Burggasse_, but towards the end of the sixteenth century, the demand increasing and the facilities for production having long been inadequate, William V. proceeded to the building of the present brew-house, which was at first intended only for the making of white beer, the brown being still made in the old quarters. In 1708, however, brown beer also began to be made in the new establishment. This topic is treated in a stereotyped article which appears every year in the May number of the Munich Beer Gazette, under the title “Bock article,” and gives the worshipful bock-drinking community a solemn and moving account of the court brewery and its products down to the minutest particulars. As regards bock itself, which is no longer an exclusive specialty of Munich, as a drink under the same name is sold every year in various cities, Graesse places its origin in the seventeenth century, and suggests that it was an imitation of the Eimbecker beer,—the last rather in virtue of a general theory and of a supposed play on words, Eimbeck, Aimbock Bock—than as an actual fact.[13] He says that “the Munich Aimbock or Bock was made before 1616, the same that is now sold at the beginning of May on Corpus Christi day.” Now, however, it has been shown that all through the second half of the sixteenth century (1553-1574) Aimpecker and Eimbecker beer was spoken of, and that there was an import of beer to Vienna from Eimbeck as late as 1771, while no trace of any play of words on the name is discovered. Moreover, that the “bock cellar”[14] (on the place of the present Restaurant Bonner) was in full operation at the beginning of the present century, is shown by Chr. Mueller who wrote under Max Joseph, and described the manners of the place very nearly as they were to be observed recently, just before the disappearance of this historical locality, and it is doubtless the fact that the larger half of the reputation of Munich beer is due to this specialty. Graesse, speaking of the high reputation of Bavarian beer, in which he includes as a matter of course that of Munich, is of the opinion that the general preference for it does not reach back farther than the early part of this century, and produces some important evidence to support this view of the case. On the other hand it is to be claimed in opposition that in such a discussion a careful distinction is to be made between Bavarian beer and Munich beer, since the renown of the first is relatively new and hardly goes to the first twenty years of the century, and its export did not begin in Munich, and also because that city has not yet been able to attain to the first rank as an exporter of beer. The reputation of Munich beer is older, for Mueller (1816) speaks of it as celebrated, and complains that the excellence of the native product is far surpassed by that of the Toelzer and Dachauer beers, and that the latter prevail in the Munich beer shops. This statement corresponds with the unfortunate situation of the beer interest that was inherited from the previous century, and that forces us to go back to the seventeenth century for a time of unquestioned supremacy for beer. In connection with this subject should be mentioned the successful founding of the Munich Court Brewery by William V. at the end of the sixteenth century, and these same old rooms should be regarded as the center and starting point where the fame of Munich beer was born and nourished, and where even through all the epoch of perukes and cues, after the fall of the monasteries that had contributed so much to the reputation of Munich beer, it was preserved from decay.

[13] The Munich “Fremdenblatt” has lately expressed the same view.

[14] In a coach house of the old _residenz_ in Munich, Bavaria.

In the seventeenth century, in the time of Louis XIV., all Germany fell under the sway of French influence. There were French conversation, prayers and oaths, French amusements and French sins, French eating and drinking. An effort to imitate all the French fashions that the cavaliers brought from Paris was a characteristic of the sad season that followed, a time sad for patriots, sad for beer brewers and for beer. Beer was _une boisson de commun_. The beautifully ornamented mugs and beakers were put away in the lumber-room (_rumpel kammer_) and champagne glasses from Paris took their place. At evening, where formerly the jovial barons and their chief followers had encamped round the carved-oak table and laid a strong grasp on the mug—there was now a service of cakes and tea, and where formerly milk and pepper or beer was used as a morning draught, the coffee breakfast constantly acquired more use and repute. The common people, however, stood fast for the old way, and were never better pleased than when the privileged beer came to honor. At this time, too, the change of rôles took place, and South Germany entered on its new and important course at the beginning of the present century. (The brewery at St. Marx was built in 1710, and in 1732 there were three brew-houses at Schwechat.)

It is as if the minds of men slumbered long, only to come at once into a never suspected activity. In the midst of the tumult we find Balling, Dreher, Sedlmayer, Kaiser, Otto and many others. Everything in brewing is changed. Laboratories spring out of the ground and discoveries and inventions come in countless numbers, brewing journals are started, schools opened, fairs and associations multiply, and all in the space of a single half century.

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