(1458-1521)
In 1494, shortly after the invention of printing, there appeared in
Basle a book entitled 'Das Narrenschiff' (The Ship of Fools). Its
success was most extraordinary; it was immediately translated into
various languages, and remained a favorite with the reading world
throughout the sixteenth century. The secret of its popularity lay in
its mixture of satire and allegory, which was exactly in accord with the
spirit of the age. 'The Ship of Fools' was not only read by the
cultivated classes who could appreciate the subtle flavor of the work,
but--especially in Germany--it was a book for the people, relished by
burgher and artisan as well as by courtier and scholar. Contemporary
works contain many allusions to it; it was in fact so familiar to every
one that monks preached upon texts drawn from it. This unique and
powerful book carried the spirit of the Reformation where the words of
Luther would have been unheeded, and it is supposed to have suggested to
Erasmus his famous 'Praise of Folly.'
[Illustration: SEBASTIAN BRANDT]
In its way, it was as important a production as Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's
Progress.' The 'Narrenschiff' was like a glass in which every man saw
the reflection of his neighbor; for the old weather-beaten vessel was
filled with a crew of fools, who impersonate the universal weaknesses of
human nature. In his prologue Brandt says:--
"We well may call it Folly's mirror,
Since every fool there sees his error:
His proper worth would each man know,
The glass of Fools the truth will show.
Who meets his image on the page
May learn to deem himself no sage,
Nor shrink his nothingness to see,
Since naught that lives from fault is free;
And who in conscience dare be sworn
That cap and bells he ne'er hath worn?
He who his foolishness decries
Alone deserves to rank as wise.
He who doth wisdom's airs rehearse
May stand godfather to my verse!
* * * * *
"For jest and earnest, use and sport,
Here fools abound, of every sort.
The sage may here find Wisdom's rules,
And Folly learn the ways of fools.
Dolts rich and poor my verse doth strike;
The bad finds badness, like finds like;
A cap on many a one I fit
Who fain to wear it would omit.
Were I to mention it by name,
'I know you not,' he would exclaim."
Sebastian Brandt represented all that was best in mediæval Germany. He
was a man of affairs, a diplomat, a scholar, an artist, and a citizen
highly esteemed and reverenced for his judgment and knowledge. Naturally
enough, he held important civic offices in Basle as well as in
Strassburg, where he was born in 1458. His father, a wealthy burgher,
sent him to the University of Basle to study philosophy and
jurisprudence and to become filled with the political ideals of the day.
He took his degree in law in 1484 at Basle, and practiced his
profession, gaining in reputation every day.
In early youth he dedicated a number of works in prose and verse to the
Emperor Maximilian, who made him Chancellor of the Empire, and
frequently summoned him to his camp to take part in the negotiations
regarding the Holy See. He was universally admired, and Erasmus, who saw
him in Strassburg, spoke of him as the "incomparable Brandt." His
portrait represents the polished Italian rather than the sturdy
middle-class German citizen. His features are delicately cut, his nose
long and thin, his face smooth, and his fur-bordered cap and brocade
robes suggest aristocratic surroundings. No doubt he graced, by his
appearance and bearing as well as by his richly stored mind, the dignity
of Count Palatine, to which rank the Emperor raised him. He died in
Strassburg in 1521, and lies in the great cathedral.
In addition to the pictures in the 'Ship of Fools' (some of which he
drew, while others he designed and superintended), he illustrated
'Terence' (1496); the 'Quadragesimale, or Sermons on the Prodigal Son'
(1495); 'Boëtius' (1501), and 'Virgil' (1502), all of which are
interesting to the artist and engraver. In the original edition of the
'Ship of Fools,' written in the Swabian dialect, every folly is
accompanied with marginal notes giving the classical or Biblical
prototype of the person satirized.
"Brandt's satires," says Max Müller in his 'Chips from a
German Workshop,' "are not very powerful, nor pungent, nor
original. But his style is free and easy. He writes in short
chapters, and mixes his fools in such a manner that we always
meet with a variety of new faces. To account for his
popularity we must remember the time in which he wrote. What
had the poor people of Germany to read toward the end of the
fifteenth century? Printing had been invented, and books were
published and sold with great rapidity. People were not only
fond, but proud, of reading. This entertainment was
fashionable, and the first fool who enters Brandt's ship is
the man who buys books. But what were the wares that were
offered for sale? We find among the early prints of the
fifteenth century religious, theological, and classical works
in great abundance, and we know that the respectable and
wealthy burghers of Augsburg and Strassburg were proud to
fill their shelves with these portly volumes. But then German
aldermen had wives and daughters and sons, and what were they
to read during the long winter evenings?... There was room
therefore at that time for a work like the 'Ship of Fools.'
It was the first printed book that treated of contemporary
events and living persons, instead of old German battles and
French knights.
"People are always fond of reading the history of their own
times. If the good qualities of the age are brought out, they
think of themselves or their friends; if the dark features of
their contemporaries are exhibited, they think of their
neighbors and enemies. The 'Ship of Fools' is the sort of
satire which ordinary people would read, and read with
pleasure. They might feel a slight twinge now and then, but
they would put down the book at the end, and thank God that
they were not like other men. There is a chapter on
Misers,--and who would not gladly give a penny to a beggar?
There is a chapter on Gluttony,--and who was ever more than a
little exhilarated after dinner? There is a chapter on
Church-goers,--and who ever went to church for
respectability's sake, or to show off a gaudy dress, or a
fine dog, or a new hawk? There is a chapter on Dancing,--and
who ever danced except for the sake of exercise?... We
sometimes wish that Brandt's satire had been a little more
searching, and that, instead of his many allusions to
classical fools, ... he had given us a little more of the
scandalous gossip of his own time. But he was too good a man
to do this, and his contemporaries no doubt were grateful to
him for his forbearance."
From a line in his poem saying that the Narrenschiff was to be found in
the neighborhood of Aix, it is supposed that Brandt received his idea
from an old chronicle which describes a ship built near Aix-la-Chapelle
in the twelfth century, and which was borne through the country as the
centre-piece for a carnival, and followed by a suite of men and women
dressed in gay costume, singing and dancing to the sound of instruments.
The old monk calls it "pagan worship," and denounces it severely; but
Brandt saw great possibilities in it for pointing a moral, according to
the fashion of his time. The illustrations contributed not a little to
the popularity of the book, for he put all his humor into the pictures
and all his sermons and exhortations into his text.
Just as Brandt in his literary qualities has been compared to Rabelais,
so his satirical pencil has been likened to Hogarth's. Boldness,
drollery, dramatic spirit, force, and spontaneous satire characterize
both artists. He does not mount a pulpit and speak to the erring masses
with sanctimonious self-righteousness; but he enters the Ship himself to
lead the babbling folk in motley to the land of wisdom. His own folly is
that of the student, and he therefore begins caricaturing himself.
To open the 'Ship of Fools' is to witness a masquerade of the fifteenth
century. The frontispiece shows a large galley with high poop and prow
and disordered rigging. Confusion reigns. Every one wears the livery of
Folly,--the fantastic hood with two peaks like asses' ears, and
decorated with tiny jingling bells. One man on the prow gesticulates
wildly to a little boat, and cries to the passengers, "Zu schyff, zu
schyff, brüder: ess gat, ess gat!" (On board, on board, brothers; it
goes, it goes!)
In these pages every type of society is seen, "from beardless youth to
crooked age," as the author asserts. Men and women of all classes and
conditions, high and low, rich and poor, learned and unlearned: ladies
in long trains and furred gowns; knights with long peaked shoes,
carrying falcons upon their wrists; cooks and butlers busy in the
kitchen; women gazing into mirrors; monks preaching in pulpits;
merchants selling goods; gluttons at the table; drunkards in the tavern;
alchemists in their laboratories; gamesters playing cards and rattling
dice; lovers in shady groves--all and each wear Folly's cap and bells.
Another class of fools is seen engaged in ridiculous occupations, such
as pouring water into wells; bearing the world on their shoulders;
measuring the globe; or weighing heaven and earth in the balance. Still
others despoil their fellows. Wine merchants introducing salt-petre,
bones, mustard, and sulphur into barrels, the horse-dealer padding the
foot of a lame horse, men selling inferior skins for good fur, and other
cheats with false weights, short measure, and light money, prove that
the vices of the modern age are not novelties. Other allegorical
pictures and verses describe the mutability of fortune, where a wheel,
guided by a gigantic hand outstretched from the sky, is adorned with
three asses, wearing of course the cap and bells.
The best German editions of this book are by Zarneke (Leipsic, 1854),
and Goedecke (1872). It was translated into Latin by Locker in 1497,
into English by Henry Watson as 'The Grete Shyppe of Fooles of the
Worlde' (1517); and by Alexander Barclay in 1509. The best edition of
Barclay's adaptation, from which the extracts below are drawn, was
published by T.H. Jamieson (Edinburgh, 1874).