Part 13

In every case the first thing done was to decide whether the crime was one meet for animadversion by the Feme. That decided, the accused was summoned to appear, if he was a wissender, before the secret tribunal, if not a wissender, before the open court. The first summons to a wissender to appear before the secret tribunal was drawn up in writing by two schoeffen, and allowed the accused a delay of six weeks and three days. If he did not obey the summons, then four schoeffen summoned him in person; and this proving ineffectual, six schoeffen and one free graf repeated the summons, which now was called the “warning.” The delay allowed was the same as at first. If the accused was a free graf the number of schoeffen employed in each of the three processes of summoning was 7, 14 and 21, respectively, and of free grafs 2, 4 and 7. The schoeffe, on receiving the summons, could appear at any time within the three delays before the free court and demand a statement of the charges and the names of the accusers; then he might on his sword swear to his innocence, and obtain his freedom; but he was liable to be summoned again. Outsiders were summoned once only, and usually by only one schoeffe. When the whereabouts of an accused person was unknown, four summonses were prepared, and these were posted in four places where he might possibly be found. If the accused was one who inspired fear, the summons might in the night time be posted or left at the gate of the castle or of the city in which he lived. In such cases the schoeffen walked or rode up before the gate, hacked off the crossbeam three chips, which they kept, put a penny of the realm in the notch, affixed the summons, and cried out to the castellan or the burgomaster, “We have stuck a king’s brief in the notch and taken the proof with us: say you to him that is in the castle that he must on his appointed day present himself before the free tribunal, on behalf of highest law and the Emperor’s ban.” When the opposition to the Femgerichte began to gain force, the summoners were in greater peril often than the summoned: often they lost their lives.

The day of the trial having arrived, if the accuser was not on hand the accused was discharged. But if the accused failed to appear, the accusation was repeated and testimony taken. The free graf then thrice called the accused by name, and asked if any one was there as his attorney. If there was no appearance of the accused, the accuser could demand judgment “after a se’ennight.” In making this demand, he knelt, laid two fingers of the right hand on his naked sword, affirmed the guilt of the accused, and six schoeffen, as his sponsors, maintained the truth of what he swore. If the verdict was against the accused, the free graf arose, and outlawed the accused, in words like these: “The accused (name and surname) I except from the peace, the laws and the freedom (of the empire) as the same have been stablished and decreed by popes and emperors; and I cast him down and place him in uttermost unquiet and disgrace, and make him illegitimate, banned, outside the peace, dishonored, insecure, loveless; and I do outlaw him according to the sentence of the secret tribunal, and devote his neck to the rope, his carcass to the birds and beasts to devour; and I commend his soul to the power of God in heaven; and his fiefs and goods I give up to the lords of whom the fiefs are held; and I make his wife a widow and his children orphans.” Then the free graf threw a twisted cord out over the bounds of the court, the schoeffen spat out, and the name of the outlaw was written in the book of the condemned. Among the persons thus condemned were numbered some men of high station, as the dukes Henry and Louis of Bavaria (1429), John, bishop of Wurtzburg, and others. All free grafs and schoeffen were henceforth under obligation to arrest and to execute sentence upon the outlaw (but three members of the Feme were required); and executing sentence meant hanging the culprit from the nearest tree. Often the relatives of executed outlaws of the Feme accused the executioners in the free courts as assassins, and the court could outlaw its own ministers for carrying out its own decrees. Many were the abuses that arose, assassination of innocent persons, for example. Murderers, too, pretended to be schoeffen; and highwaymen robbed under pretense of sequestering the property of persons condemned by judgment of the Feme.

If ever the condemned, being a wissender and not having overstayed the se’ennight of grace, appeared in court with six compurgators he was set free; but if he confessed his guilt, or was convicted, he was executed forthwith in the usual way. The ban of the Feme could never be lifted; but the number of death sentences actually carried out was, says Lindner, “so very small that one might readily allow the Feme’s decree of outlawry to be pronounced upon him.” Pope Nicolas V. in 1452 condemned the capital executions done by the Feme.

If a man under sentence of death should be proved innocent before he fell into the hands of the executioners, he was, if a wissender, brought before the court, with a rope around his neck, wearing white gloves, carrying a green cross, and attended by two schoeffen; falling on his knees before the free graf he pleaded for mercy. The free graf, taking him by the hand, bade him rise, removed the rope from around his neck, and restored him to the grace and favor of the Feme. But one who was not a wissender had no rights! He merely escaped death, but there was no amend. The Emperor gave him “a reprieve of 100 years, 6 weeks and a day”—that was all; he was forever ineligible to become a schoeffe. Both processes were called the “entfemung” (“unfeming,” undoing of the Feme’s judgment).

Many of the condemned, unable to procure the entfemung, ventured to appeal to the Emperor, the camera, the Pope, or a Church Council. But the Femgerichte never recognized such appeals, and protested strongly to the Emperor against them. They regarded the condemned as dead, and said that no one had the right “to awaken the dead.” The Emperor Sigmund could think of no means of saving a man under condemnation, except by taking him into his own service, for the Femgerichte did not care to take measures against officials of the Kaiser and the empire. Women, too, as well as aged men and children, were excepted from the cognizance of the Feme, also, in theory, Jews, for Jews were “servants of the Emperor’s bedchamber”; ecclesiastics, also, for they could in the Middle Age be tried only in the spiritual courts; but in the 15th century the Feme disregarded these provisions, and summoned both Jews and ecclesiastics.

3. THE END OF THE FEME.

But the Initiates of the Red Earth league met the fate that overtakes all movements that lag behind the times. The Feme did by no means render in the days of “faustrecht” (fist-right, the rule of the stronger) so great services as it has been credited with: never was the insecurity of life and property so great as when the Femgerichte were most flourishing. If the extension of the Feme beyond the borders of Westphalia was a wrong, that wrong became aggravated through the excessive secrecy of the tribunals. The Feme degenerated steadily, and the respect in which it was held declined in equal degree. The free grafs forgot the fair promise of their original institution—that their function was to protect innocence against the machinations of bad men. They, and especially the presidents of courts, enriched themselves with fees for admission of new members, with costs of court, with fines and fees, and even with moneys got by extortion and oppression. They delayed trials, condemned innocent persons, overstepped the limits of their jurisdiction so as to condemn to death the entire male population (over 18 years) of a town, for not obeying a summons. The opposition to the Femgerichte culminated in the decree of the Emperor Maximilian I. creating the supreme court of judicature (kammergericht), which left no further excuse for protecting the free courts. The applications for admission to the Feme soon grew less, and at last ceased. The princes changed the free courts into ordinary tribunals, or abolished them. At the end of the 16th century a capital execution by a Femgericht was a thing unknown; at the end of the 17th these courts had nearly all disappeared. But even when Westphalia was a Napoleonic kingdom there were still living some schoeffen, and not till the decade 1880–90 did the last free graf disappear, “taking with him to the grave the secret of the countersign.” The existence of the Feme is still commemorated by the stone judgment seats under the lindens; and the branches overhead are still whispering the story of the redoubtable Wissende of the Red Earth country.

_PART EIGHTH._ _Stonemasons’ Lodges of the Middle Ages._

1. MEDIEVAL ARCHITECTURE.

We have already noted as a prominent characteristic of the Middle Age this, that freedom of action, except so far as it interfered with the interests of the clergy or the nobles, was left unrestricted and that individuals formed social unions for the exercise of it. Thus we have seen these two dominant classes uniting to form associations which finally were crowned by the institution of the military orders. But the medieval world had not followed the arts of peace very long after the stormy times of the barbarian invasions, before it became conscious of a need not only of a union of swordsmen and penmen, but also and still more of a union of handicraftsmen. True, the Middle Age could not rise to such an intellectual height as would enable it to see that work is more to be honored than indolence, peace than war: hence the worker had to take a subordinate place. Of the agricultural laborer this is true without any reservation: but the artisan was more favorably situated as soon as the cities had begun to develop.

But the progress made by the artisans was due to their union in corporations or gilds. The constitutions of the trade gilds derive partly from the “collegia” of artisans in ancient Rome and partly from the monastic orders. The “collegia” had secret rites, mysteries, but of these we have no reliable information; and it is certain that the medieval gilds had their mysteries, too. Of not all the gilds is this true; in some of them the secret ceremonial consisted only of passwords and countersigns by which craftsmen recognized their fellows. The most elaborate of these mysteries was that of the Stonemasons. And the reason if this is obvious, for of all trades that of the builder not only makes most demands on the thinking faculty, involves most details, is the first to require new methods of facilitating operations, new “wrinkles,” and these easily are made trade secrets: besides, as builders of temples, the masons acquired a sacred and mystical character.

After the great migrations the mason’s trade had its home in the monasteries. As long as architecture or the builder’s art was thus under monastic guidance, it affected the Romanic style—simple columns, rounded arches, squat towers; but when the monks forsook art and science, in the 11th and 12th centuries, the craftsmen no longer saw why they should serve under the direction of men who had no taste for anything but wine, the chase, and war. And so there arose unions of masons outside of the monasteries, especially in the cities, and henceforth the monastic churches were inferior to the city churches in size and splendor. The change in the circumstances of the builders’ unions, which were now selfcontrolled, was seen in the development of a new style. Instead of the single columns rose clustered columns, symbol of free union, and of the strength that comes of harmonious action between equals; in the place of rounded arches, pointed ones, to show that the forces that conspired to raise the structure did not sacrifice their several individualities, but freely contributed each its share toward the attainment of the end; in place of squat, close towers, tall spires aspiring to infinitude, and open on all sides, as much as to say, “Here we stand free and open, acknowledging no laws but those of heaven.” Then came decoration of the window arches, which showed a different design in each, thus entering a protest against all stereotyped uniformity. This was the true Germanic or Gothic architecture, the triumph of the free Teutonic spirit, which favors the unhindered development and the unrestricted independence of individual genius. It was also the expression of mysticism, with innumerable spirelets striving heavenward to find the Divine. Hence the Gothic style has somewhat of gloom and melancholy in its vast arches and narrow windows. It invites the free spontaneous spirit of man to sound the depths of his own nature, and so is as adverse to obtrusive dogmatism as to reckless investigation and illuminism, which disturb prejudices. Hence as the Romanic style is the architecture of the popedom, so is the Gothic that of free church life; and then the architecture of illuminism followed as the style of the Renaissance.

2. THE STONEMASONS’ LODGES OF GERMANY.

The meeting places of the masons’ unions in the cities were the board huts that stood on the site of churches in process of construction, affording shelter to the masons or stone cutters while at work. These huts, or “lodges,” were at an early period leagued together, and the members of the leagues, in memory of their formerly having been inmates of monasteries, called one another Brother, and their unions Brotherhoods; they also bestowed on their chief officers such tokens of respect as are found in the clerical epithets “reverend” and “worshipful.” The date of the formation of this league cannot be determined. It appears to have been in full swing in the 13th century, and the credit of its definitive organization is usually given to Albert the Great, Count of Bollstadt, a celebrated Dominican friar (b. 1200, d. 1280). Albert lived nearly all his life in Cologne, and therefore the famous Cathedral of Cologne is to be regarded as the cradle of the great league of stonemasons’ lodges.

For the government of this league an assembly of delegates from the lodges, which came together “in chapter” (another reminiscence of the monastic origin of these unions) at Ratisbon in 1459, drew up a trade constitution entitled “Ordnung und Vereinigung der gemeinen Bruderschaft des Steinwerks und der Steinmetzen” (Regulation and Combination of the general brotherhood of stonework and stonemasons): it was revised and amended at Basel in 1497, and at Strasburg 1498. From this and other ancient documents relating to the organization of the brotherhood we gather that the Brethren were classed as Masters, “Parleyers” and Comrades (meister, parlirer, gesellen), and to these were added, though not as brethren, yet as dependents, Helpers,—that is, apprentices. At the head of a lodge stood the Master of Works, or Master-Builder. The masters of the three lodges at Strasburg, Cologne and Vienna were the Chief Judges of the league, and he of Strasburg held the foremost rank among these. To the judicial district of Strasburg belonged the left bank of the Rhine down to the Moselle, and on the right bank Suabia, Franconia, Hesse; to the district of Cologne belonged the region on the other side of the Moselle; and to that of Vienna, Austria, Hungary, Italy. Switzerland stood apart under a separate master, who had his seat at Berne; Zurich afterward succeeded to the place of Berne. The masons of Northern Germany, on the right bank of the Rhine (Thuringia, Saxony, etc.), were only nominally members of the league: as matter of fact they were subordinate to none of these lodges, but they adopted a special “order” for themselves at Torgau in 1462. In these regulations we find many striking evidences of the sturdy good sense of the masons. For example, they were forbidden to disparage deceased masters and their works; also to teach others their art for money, for they ought to deal with each other as friends; one master was not to expel a fellowcraft; to do so he must not only take counsel with two other masters, but also a majority of the fellowcrafts must approve; differences between masters should be settled by arbitrators chosen from members of the league.

In the brotherhoods brotherly comradeship played an important part. Meetings were held monthly, and the business ended with a feast. Each General lodge yearly held a grand assembly; and the festivals of Saint John the Baptist, and of the so-called “Four Crowned Ones,” were holidays for the league. Each meeting of a lodge was opened and closed with questions and answers of the master and the comrades. To the journeyman, as soon as he began to travel, were communicated the secret signs of the brotherhood—passwords, grip, etc. With these he identified himself as a brother mason wherever he went, and so had the right to learn the trade gratis. On coming to a hut where stone-cutting was going on, he first shut the door, so as to knock on it after the masonic fashion; then asked, “Are German masons at work here?” Forthwith the comrades made search through the hut, shut the doors, and ranged themselves in a right angle; the visitor placed his feet at right angles, saying, “God bless the worthy masons;” to which the answer was “God thank the worthy masons,” and so on, questions and answers many, among them these: “Who sent you forth”? “My honored master, honored sureties, and the whole honored masons’ lodge at X.” “What for?” “For discipline and right behavior.” “What is discipline and right behavior?” “The usages of the craft and its customs.”

Of the rites of initiation in those times we know nothing: what Fallou has on that head regarding the usages of the German stonemasons is simply borrowed from the Freemasons’ ritual of the present time. It is highly probable that in the medieval masons’ lodges the technical details of the craft and its secrets played the chief part in the ceremonies of initiation. The medieval stonemasons also employed as symbols of their craft the hammer, the circle, the square, etc., also mystic figures, e. g., the flaming star (which was the Pythagorean pentagram, or the magic hexagram—two triangles laid across each other), the two pillars of Solomon’s temple, wine skins, ears of corn, interlaced cords, etc. The only other point of any consequence of which we have certainty is that the postulant swore to observe secrecy. But there is no doubt that the drinking usages as handed down to us are authentic. For example, the glass was never to be handed to the banqueter, but set on the table before him; then, he must not touch it save with the right hand—covered with a white glove or a white napkin, when a special toast is drunk.

The masons’ brotherhoods were a distinctly Christian institution: the members were required by the “Ordinances” to comply with all the usages of the Church. This was a survival from the time when the lodges had their origin in monasteries. The sects that arose on every side despite bloody persecutions, and the illuminism spread abroad by them, contributed to bring about a change in the spirit of the masons which was noticeable in the 14th and 15th centuries: many, perhaps a majority, of them acquired a spirit of opposition to Roman ecclesiasticism, and it was very plainly manifested in their sculpture. More bitter satire cannot be imagined than they employed; and what is most significant is that it found expression in the churches themselves. Thus in a representation of the Last Judgment in the Berne minster a pope wearing a glittering tiara of gold is seen tumbling headlong into Hell; and in the vestibule the Wise and the Foolish Virgins are shown keeping vigil, but the foolish ones wear cardinals’ hats, bishops’ mitres and priests’ caps. The Doberan Church in Mecklenburg shows a mill in which church dogmas are ground out. At Strasburg was seen a procession of all manner of beasts with blazing torches and an ass performing the mass; at Brandenburg was shown a fox preaching to a flock of geese, etc.

Illuminism is the foe of knighthood and ecclesiasticism, for illuminism knows no privilege of birth or of rank or of vocation. Hence, in so far as such bodies as the Templars and Stonemasons favored illuminism, they undermined the institutions to which they owed their existence, and so were working for their own extinction. The downfall of the Stonemasons’ brotherhood had its causes even in the age before the Reformation, in that there was no lack now of churches, and that hardly any new churches were erected. What the relation was of the lodges to the Reformation we shall see later on. The savageries of the 16th and 17th centuries, particularly the Thirty Years’ War, dealt a severe blow at the building-craft; but the deathblow to the Stonemasons’ league was the treacherous seizure of the seat of the principal lodge, Strasburg, by Louis XIV. Naturally, the German princes interdicted communication of their subjects with foreign associations, and, of course, with the principal lodge in Strasburg, 1707. And as the discords of the German masons and their weakness prevented them from instituting a new head lodge, the Emperor at one stroke did away with all lodges, principal and subordinate, and forbade the oath of secrecy, the use of the “nonsensical form of salutation” (so ran the text of the decree), and the distinction between “salutation-masons” and “letter-masons” (grussmaurer, briefmaurer). Nevertheless, the lodges remained as secret societies until modern freedom of industrial trades stripped them of all meaning, and cut the ground under their feet.

3. FRENCH CRAFTSMEN.

Very different from the German societies of craftsmen were those of France. Whereas, in Germany we find strenuous endeavor toward perfection in the craft, cultivation of the beautiful, and a disposition no less elevated in a moral sense than devoutly religious; in France we see only rude, undirected effort, with here and there some encouraging features. In France there is sharp distinction between the gilds of the masters and the lodges of the journeymen. The masters have neither a common bond of union, nor any common property; the craftsmen form strong societies, with secret constitutions and usages.