CHAPTER VIII.

GERMANY: ANCIENT, MEDIÆVAL, AND MODERN.

Long before the northern barbarians had descended into the plains of Italy as conquerors, and whilst they were still the tributaries of Rome, they had earned the reputation of being brave, but indolent and intemperate. Pliny, who has already enlightened us concerning the habits of his own countrymen, tells us that the chief drink of the Germans was beer, or, as he calls it, “corn steeped in water,” which, he says, was capable of being kept until it had attained a great age. They, however, soon learned the superiority of the wines of Italy and Gaul, and those are said to have been not the least of the inducements which tempted them to make incursions into their neighbours’ territories. Tacitus describes the Germans as a primitive, savage, and warlike race, much addicted to intemperance in drink, but chaste and virtuous in their relations with women, whom they treated with great respect.[178] He says that they slept late into the day, and on rising they proceeded to bathe, after which they partook of a meal, each sitting on a distinct seat and at a separate table. They then went armed to business, and not less frequently to convivial parties, in which it was no disgrace to pass whole days and nights without intermission in drinking. The frequent quarrels which arose amongst them when intoxicated seldom terminated in abusive language only, but more frequently in bloodshed. Their drink, he also says, was a liquor prepared from barley or wheat, brought by fermentation to a certain resemblance of wine, but those who bordered on the Rhine also purchased wine. They fed on fresh venison (some writers say they ate it raw), wild fruits, and coagulated milk, and their intemperance in eating and drinking was such as to give great advantage to the Romans in their wars, or, as Tacitus puts it, “intemperance proves as effectual in subduing them as the force of arms.”

A modern German writer, who has devoted considerable attention to the rise, progress, and subsidence of the passion for drink in his native land, attributes the love of drink in his ancestors to the damp climate, and to their being constantly engaged in war or in hunting wild beasts.[179] They appear, however, to have regarded the use of wine at first with some apprehension, as it affected their physical powers more injuriously than beer; and although vineyards were planted at an early period, it is said, by Roman soldiers, the production and use of wine was long of a limited character.[180]

It is to Christianity, or at least to its professors, that the credit belongs of having caused the growth of the grape and the consumption of wine to extend in Germany, and in the neighbouring countries of the West.[181] The holy sacrament necessitated its use, and so we find that the first vineyards of any importance were planted around the great monasteries, such as those in the neighbourhood of Mayence and Würzburg,[182] of which, amongst others, special mention was made about the middle of the ninth century. Beer and mead were, however, the national drinks of the ancient German tribes,[183] and their drinking habits affected their whole character as well as the destinies of their descendants. They held counsel on matters of importance over their potations, and verified the adage which was referred to by Pliny, and has descended to us, that “in wine” (or, with them, in beer) “there is truth.” So there were no diplomats, no Bismarcks nor Gortschakoffs, in that age; the warriors were outspoken and frank in their expressions, hasty and daring in their subsequent undertakings. Drinking to excess soon gained a firm hold upon the whole nation, and took the form of healths and toasts, of drinking for wagers, and pledging strangers and wayfarers. These customs at once stamped the Germans as an hospitable people, and although “guest-friendship,” as it is still called, was a conspicuous characteristic of the Middle Ages all over Europe, it seems to have been pre-eminently the quality of the Germans.

Very early in the history of the nation, it is an admitted fact that all classes and both sexes indulged freely in potations, so much so, that as far back as the middle of the eighth century systematic attempts were made to legislate against drunkenness. Charlemagne, whose character has been variously judged by different historians, and who was undoubtedly a Henry the Eighth in his conjugal relations, in the matter of drink presented an example worthy of imitation. If not a total abstainer, he was at least an extremely temperate drinker, and both in that respect as well as by imperial edicts he endeavoured to reform the drinking habits of his subjects. He forbade suitors or witnesses to appear in court intoxicated, earls to sit in judgment unless perfectly sober, and priests to offer drink to penitents.[184] If any one of his soldiers was found drunk in camp, he was restricted to water as a beverage until he admitted the heinousness of his offence and publicly implored forgiveness.[185] But these edicts were of no avail. They, along with others, which were directed not only against the common people, but also against princes, rulers, and their following, were enacted again and again in later times; as, for example, that of the Emperor Frederick III. at a Reichstag in Worms, 1495, which ordered “all electors, princes, prelates, counts, knights, and gentlemen to discountenance and severely punish drunkenness;” and that of Karl IV., which stated in the preamble that the vice is greatly on the increase, that it leads to blasphemy, murder, and manslaughter, and that such vices and crimes have rendered the Germans, “whose manliness was so famous in olden times, despised and contemned of all foreign nations.”

Neither were the orders of temperance which were established in the Middle Ages much more successful. Those were not mere associations of the “moral suasion” class. Some of them were founded and governed by emperors, princes, and counts, others by ecclesiastics or burghers. They were levelled not only at drinking, but at its companion sins, cursing and swearing; and the records of some of them would delight the heart of a modern suppressor of the liquor traffic, from the severity with which they show the rules to have been enforced. In some, the fines which were inflicted upon the members for breaches of discipline were moderate, the transgressor having to pay, “through the will of God, three kreuzers to the poor.” In other cases a Rhenish florin was the forfeit. Those seem to have been high-class societies. Occasionally, however, we meet with such punishments as “three days and three nights in gaol,” but that was for a miserable “knecht” (a serf); gentlemen were not so rudely handled. In their case it was “five shillings and costs,” not “fourteen days’ imprisonment.” But if these enactments and associations for the suppression of drunkenness testified to its widespread prevalence, how much more significant is the undoubted fact that there were orders of _in_temperance, with formal codes of rules. The drinking-songs of the students, and the drinking-code (_Jus potandi_), which is believed by some writers to have been a genuine collection of rules for the regulation of drinking, and by others to be merely a satire levelled against drunkenness, reveal the situation to all who care to peruse them.[186] Here is a description of the habits of the time as given by the students:[187]—

“Bibit hera, bibit herus, Bibit miles, bibit clerus, Bibit ille, bibit illa, Bibit servus cum ancilla, Bibit velox, bibit piger, Bibit albus, bibit niger, Bibit constans, bibit vagus, Bibit rudis, bibit magus. ... Bibit pauper et ægrotus, Bibit exul et ignotus, Bibit puer, bibit canus, Bibit præsul et decanus, Bibit soror, bibit frater, Bibit anus, bibit mater, Bibit iste, bibit ille, Bibunt centum, bibunt mille.”

In short, everybody, man, woman, and child, drank to their heart’s content. Drinking formed part of the education of youth. “Now, let us see,” said the fond parent to his little son, “let us see what you can do. Bring him a half-measure;” and later on, “Bring him a measure.”[188] And men told one another in high glee how they had succeeded in making all their guests drunk the evening before, and how long each had managed to hold out before he succumbed. Drunken tournaments were held, and Hans Sachs, the national poet, gives an account of one of them which he had witnessed, where twelve “beer heroes” succeeded in drinking from “pots and cans” a tun of beer in six hours! Of course, it was necessary to introduce something like order into this drinking world; and just as we have found religious beliefs, and laws, and ceremonies accumulate through ages, and handed down by tradition until the master-mind appeared to codify the whole and reduce it to writing, so “Jus Potandi” was the grand outcome of the wise drinking legislation of generations of topers. As already remarked, whether it be a serious production or merely a satire, its significance remains the same. It described the liquors of the age, the beers especially. Rostocker, Hamburger, Dantzger duppelbier (equal to our XX), Preussing, Brunswick mumme, Hanoverian broyhan, English beer, which, along with many more, were, we are told, infinitely preferable to such rubbish as Wittemburg cuckoo, Buffalo, or “_Leipzig herb-flavoured body-rending Rastrum_,” whatever that may have been.[189]

It must have been a highly edifying spectacle a mediæval German drinking-feast, comprising a mixed company of guests, who acknowledged and obeyed the drinking-code (_Zech-recht_). There was no promiscuous hobnobbing, and caste was duly respected then as now. Nobles were not permitted to drink with tradespeople, but they might raise their glass to a student, and he in like manner might condescend to notice a tradesman, for there was no knowing of what advantage such a recognition might be to a student.[190] A case is cited where a merchant (pedlar, we presume) actually gave a poor “studiosus” a pair of beautiful silk stockings the morning after a carouse, for which he had expressed a longing during the entertainment. Young maidens were permitted to drink platonically with virtuous young men, but they are warned in droll and not very modest terms against “pseudo-prophêtes,” who are “lupi rapaces” in sheep’s clothing, and the evils of drinking “sisterhood” with such ravening wolves are duly and circumstantially set forth in the code.[191] One clause is devoted specially to the expressions in vogue amongst ladies, who may find it necessary, whilst at table, to protect themselves against the too gross familiarities of their gallant neighbours.[192]

As a rule, guests might not pledge persons who were present, unless it were a sweetheart, and that toast must be drunk “_ad unguem_”[193]—that is to say, in a bumper—the drinkers afterwards reversing their goblets and ringing them on the thumb-nail, to show that not a drop was left therein. This has been a common drinking custom in several countries. Toasts were drunk in various ways: sometimes one man drank from two glasses at once; at others, when virtuous young ladies sat by the side of respectable young men, they were allowed to drink simultaneously from the same goblet, and it was deplored that such a mode of drinking could not become more general, on account of the wild behaviour of the youth of the period.[194] Regular penalties were inflicted for sneezing and coughing into the goblets, and for certain other offences against decency and propriety, which, although they seem to have been everyday occurrences at those carousals, are unfit to be spoken of in genteel society. When newcomers arrived, the goblet was offered to them, with sundry compliments and orations, and to refuse to drink was a mortal offence, usually followed by a bloody encounter. When a guest found it difficult to keep pace with the company, or could not empty his goblet at a draught, he might avail himself of the aid of any _young_ lady who sat by his side, but _old_ ladies were not allowed to render assistance under such circumstances, for they were too fond of their liquor themselves.[195]

When men became riotous, gentle means were first to be employed to quiet them; if they still persisted, warnings followed; and should they then remain contumacious, they were to be well thrashed and sent home “as cheaply as possible.” Table and window breaking were severely punished, and certain acts of indecency, if practised before ladies, were to be resented by seizing the offender and pitching him neck-and-crop into the street.[196]

Should the reader be desirous of studying this remarkable code[197] (whatever view he may take of its authenticity as a serious production), he will find it composed in mediæval German, interspersed with Latin and Greek phrases, as though it had been collated by some learned ecclesiastic, which is more than probable—that is to say, by some drunken hanger-on at a monastery; and he will see how the German youth of bygone days studied as “vini et cerevisiæ candidatus,” and eventually graduated in the courts of Bacchus. But if he imagines that the picture is overdrawn, we should recommend him to consult the historical records, and he will find that no language can adequately portray the state of morals in Germany in those days, at least so far as drunkenness was concerned.[198]

As already stated, in the highest as in the lowest ranks drinking to excess was the universal practice. Kings set the example and subjects followed it. One of the most temperate of the old Kaisers, Rudolph of Hapsburg, is said to have called out in a loud voice in the streets of Erfurt, holding a glass of beer up to the light, “Well! well! (Wohlan! wohlan!) What splendid beer! I am sure it comes from Conrad of Bustede,” and by this exclamation to have made himself extremely popular amongst the Erfurters; just as our own Prince of Wales is believed by some to have won the hearts of all true Britons by asking for a glass of bitter beer on recovering consciousness during a dangerous illness. The stories which are told of excesses in noble families, and of cruelties practised in their indulgence, are not fit to be narrated in these pages. In some noble households registers were kept from generation to generation, called drink-albums, in which not only the men entered their exploits, but—_O tempora, O mores_—the Gräfin von Schwillensaufenstein was allowed to inscribe her name and sentiments (if she was able to write) side by side with those of the Baron von Saus und Braus.[199] To be considered of gentle blood, a man must of necessity be capable of draining off his bumper at a draught. The goblet was an essential part of all ceremonies; when the vassal swore fealty to his lord; at christenings, funerals, tournaments, archery meetings; wherever knight met knight or burghers congregated, there drinking followed. Bargains were concluded over the goblet; indeed, a certain stipulated quantity of beer, to be drunk there and then, formed part of the contract. The language of modern Germany, and of England, for that matter, bears testimony to the universal thirst. “Trink-geld” or drink-money—“allowance” with us—means a gratuity for services rendered or not rendered. The “thirst” for gold, for glory, or for fame; “intoxicated” with success or with love; “drinking” one’s fill of some sensual delight, and many more such expressions, serve to remind us of the paramount influence of drink in bygone days. German intemperance had really become a byword amongst nations, as the edict of Karl IV. declared. Antonius Campanius, an official witling who represented the Pope at the Court of Frederick III., wrote to his master, “Nil hic est aliud vivere, quam bibere,”—“Living here is nought but drinking.” He might have gone further, and have said that even snoozing was nought but boozing; for not only had each hour of the day and each occasion its appropriate drink, but even the “schlaf-trunk,” _i.e._, the sleeping-draught, was taken to the bedside of guests at night.[200]

The cheapness and varieties of intoxicating drinks, too, had something to do with the prevailing drunkenness. Besides mead and beer, there were numerous kinds of wine and liquors made from the grape, mulberry, apple, pear, &c., and a favourite spiced wine called “Lütertrank.”[201] The low price of wines at that time has been commemorated in a proverb of the year 1539:

“Tausendfünfhundertdreissig und neun, Galten die Fässer mehr als der Wein.”

Anglicised—

“In Fifteen hundred and thirty-nine, The casks were valued at more than the wine.”

It was about that time that the enormous casks which are still so famous were erected; that at Tübingen was twenty-four feet long and sixteen feet in height, and the one at Heidelberg is of similar proportions. The goblets which were used resembled the gigantic cups of ancient Rome, and, like them, were made of various materials. Husbands presented their wives with goblets of gold on their wedding mornings, and no greater compliment could be paid by a vassal to his lord than to offer him a handsome gold drinking vessel. Such goblets were often covered with narratives of the drunken exploits of their owners. Nor were the clergy any better than their flocks, although they preached against and denounced drunkenness loudly enough. We shall have an opportunity of studying their ways later on, but for the present one or two extracts from the ecclesiastical chronicles and canons must suffice. In the monastery of St. Gall, during the tenth century, each monk received daily five measures of beer, besides occasional allowances of wine, which were consumed at breakfast, dinner, and supper; and healths were often pledged by the abbots.[202] “Amongst these vices,” said a preacher in Germany in the ninth century, “feasting and drunkenness especially reign, since not only the rude and vulgar people, but the noble and powerful of the land, are given up to them. Both sexes and all ages have made intemperance into a custom; ... and so greatly has the plague spread, that it has infected some of our own order in the priesthood, so that not only do they not correct the drunkards, but become drunkards themselves.”[203]

Again, the writer here quoted tells us of the penalties attached to drunkenness amongst priests:—“1. If a bishop or any one ordained has a habit of drunkenness, he must either resign or be deposed. 2. If a monk drinks till he vomits, he must do thirty days’ penance; if a priest or deacon, forty days. But if this happens from weakness of stomach or from long abstinence, and he was not in the habit of excessive drinking or eating, or if he did it in excess of joy on Christmas or Easter days, or the commemoration of some saint, and if then he did not take more than has been regulated by our predecessors, it is not to be punished. If the bishop urged him, the fault is not to be imputed to the monk, unless he gladly consented. 4. If a priest gets drunk through inadvertence, he must do penance seven days; if through carelessness, fifteen days; if through contempt, forty days; a deacon or monk, four weeks; a sub-deacon, three; a layman, one week.”[204]

These quotations need no comment; the inferences to be drawn from them may safely be left to the reader’s own judgment.[205]

But what neither legislative enactments, nor orders of temperance, nor priestly admonitions, nor the pen of the satirist could accomplish, was brought about insensibly and without an effort during the eighteenth century, when various circumstances conduced to transform the Germans from one of the most drunken to one of the soberest nations in Europe. The introduction of Italian and French fashions into the rude courts of Germany had something to do with the change; but this chiefly affected the uppermost ranks of society. The importation of innocuous beverages from the East—tea, coffee, and chocolate—and their extended use by all classes, as well as the substitution of a milder but more palatable kind of beer for the strong drink of the preceding centuries, were the principal agents in the reform.[206] Moreover, the consumption of brandy, which was very great before the Thirty Years’ War, had considerably diminished, and by slow degrees the love of strong drink ceased to characterise the various sections of society, from the denizens of the court to those of the workshop. The last to relinquish their old depraved habits were the students of the universities. It was not until after the revolution of 1848, which reconstituted European society, that the German “Bursche” forsook his evil ways; and although there is still great room for improvement, he now compares favourably in his habits with the students of other countries. But there is still another factor in the modern civilisation of Germany which has been too little considered by moralists, namely, the influence of compulsory education upon the masses. This is the true corrective of the evil results which must always be feared from the increasing affluence of the working classes, and it is to be hoped it may operate favourably in Germany as well as in our own industrial community.

But one of the writers whom we have quoted seems rather to have regretted the good old toping days which were departing, and to have thought that with the introduction of Oriental beverages all the manliness and intellect of his countrymen would vanish. Indeed, he exclaims despairingly, “And thus we see that it is with whole nations as with individuals. One wicked, vehement passion is seldom exterminated excepting by another. An old demon is rarely expelled otherwise than by a new one.”[207]

This was written towards the close of the eighteenth century. What would he have said if he had lived to witness Gravelotte, Metz, and Sedan?

* * * * *

We are all too prone to look upon the rose-coloured side of the national life whilst we are travelling abroad, and it may be that a German tourist whilst in England would be so impressed with the indications of industry and prosperity which meet his eye wherever he goes, that the heinousness of our national vice would be mitigated or partially lost from his view in the surrounding glare. So, too, it is possible that, in judging the German people of to-day, the author has been too favourably impressed with those aspects of life which are presented to the holiday-seeker. His observation has not, however, been quite superficial, and his impressions of the moral and intellectual condition of the Germans is not now stated for the first time.[208] Drunkenness appears to have given place to sobriety, coarse sensual pleasures to intellectual enjoyments resulting from the cultivation of music and the fine arts. The very temperance societies of Germany bear witness to the sobriety of the working classes, and present a strange contrast to our own, for they deem it unnecessary to do more than enjoin moderation in drinking.[209] The old writer must, indeed, himself have been imbued with that passion which for centuries made Germany the scorn and byword of Europe (although some of her neighbours, forsooth, had little to boast of in the matter of temperance), a vice which threatened eventually to hand her over to the same fate as ancient Rome had suffered at the hands of her ancestry. If only her people are as successful in securing political freedom[210] as they have been in emancipating themselves from the besetting sin of their forefathers, there is a great and happy future in store for the “Fatherland.”