1. EARLY LITERATURE.--Previous to the introduction of Christianity the
Germans had nothing worthy of the name of literature. The first monument
that has come down to us is the translation of the Bible into Moeso-
Gothic, by Ulphilas, bishop of the Goths (360-388), who thus anticipated
the work of Luther by a thousand years.
As the art of writing was unknown to the Goths, Ulphilas formed an
alphabet by combining Runic, Greek, and Roman, letters, and down to the
ninth century this version was held in high esteem and seems to have been
in general use. For nearly four hundred years after Ulphilas, no trace of
literature is discovered among the Teutonic tribes. They, however, had
their war-songs, and minstrel skill seems to have been highly prized by
them. These lays were collected by Charlemagne, and are described by
Eginhardt as "ancient barbarous poems, celebrating the deeds and wars of
the men of old;" but they have nearly all disappeared, owing, probably, to
the refusal of the monks, then the only scribes, to transmit to paper
aught which tended to recall the rites and myths of Paganism. Only two
relics of this age, in their primitive form, remain; they are rhymeless,
but alliterated,--a kind of versification common to the German, Anglo-
Saxon, and Scandinavian poetry, and which, early in the ninth century,
gave place to rhyme. Of these two poems, the Hildebrand Lied Is probably a
fragment of the traditions which had circulated orally for centuries, and
which, with many modifications, were transcribed by the Scandinavians in
their sagas, and by Charlemagne in his collection. None of the other poems
which have come down to us from this period bear an earlier date than the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries, when they were remodeled and appeared in
the form of the Heldenbuch and Nibelungen Lied. The Hildebrand Lied
belongs to the cycle of Theodoric the Great, or _Dietrich of Bern_ or
Verona, as he is called in poetry, from that town being the seat of his
government after he had subdued the Empire of the West. This poem, though
rude and wild, is not without grandeur and dramatic effect.
2. CHARLEMAGNE AND HIS SUCCESSORS.--The era of Charlemagne, in all
respects so memorable, could not be without influence on the literature of
Germany, then in a condition of almost primitive rudeness. The German,
language was taught by his command in the schools and academies which he
established in all parts of the empire; he caused the monks to preach in
the vernacular tongue, and he himself composed the elements of a grammar
for the use of his subjects. He recompensed with imperial munificence the
learned men who resorted to his court; Alcuin, Theodophilus, Paul
Winifred, and Eginhardt were honored with his peculiar confidence. Under
his influence the monasteries became literary as well as ecclesiastical
seminaries, which produced such men as Otfried (fl. 840), the author of
the rhymed Gospel-book, and Notker Teutonicus, the translator of the
Psalms.
After the death of Charlemagne the intellectual prospects of Germany
darkened. The empire was threatened by the Normans from the west, and the
Hungarians from the east, and there were few places where the peaceful
pursuits of the monasteries and schools could be carried on without
interruption.
The most important relic of the last part of the ninth century is the
"Ludwig's Lied," a hymn celebrating the victory of Louis over the Normans,
composed by a monk with whom that monarch was on terms of great intimacy.
The style is coarse and energetic, and blends the triumphant emotions of
the warrior with the pious devotion of the recluse. Towards the close of
the tenth century, Roswitha, a nun, composed several dramas in Latin,
characterized by true Christian feeling and feminine tenderness.
The eleventh century presents almost an entire blank in the history of
German literature. The country was invaded by the Hungarian and Slavonic
armies from abroad, or was the scene of contest between the emperors and
their vassals at home, and in the struggle between Henry IV. and Pope
Gregory VII., the clergy, who had hitherto been the chief supporters of
their literature, became estranged from the German people.
A series of lays or poems, however, known as the Lombard Cycle, belongs to
this age, among which are "Duke Ernest," "Count Rudolph," and others,
which combine the wild legends of Paganism with the more courtly style of
the next period.
3. THE SUABIAN AGE.--A splendid epoch of belles-lettres dates from the
year 1138, when Conrad III., of the Hohenstauffen dynasty, ascended the
throne of the German Empire. The Crusades, which followed, filled Germany
with religious and martial excitement, and chivalry was soon in the height
of its splendor. The grand specimens of Gothic architecture produced
during this period, the cathedrals of Ulm, Strasbourg, and Cologne, in
which ponderous piles of matter were reduced to forms of beauty, speak of
the great ideas and the great powers called into exercise to fulfill them.
The commercial wealth of Germany was rapidly developed; thousands of serfs
became freemen; large cities arose, mines were discovered, and a taste for
luxury began to prevail.
In 1149, when the emperor undertook a crusade in concert with Louis VII.
of France, the nobility of Germany were brought into habitual acquaintance
with the nobility of France, who at that time cultivated Provençal poetry,
and the result was quickly apparent in German literature. The poets began
to take their inspiration from real life, and though far from being
imitators, they borrowed their models from the romantic cycles of Brittany
and Provence.
The emperors of the Suabian or Hohenstauffen dynasty formed a new
rallying-point for the national sympathies, and their courts and the
castles of their vassals proved a more genial home for the Muses than the
monasteries of Fulda and St. Gall. In the Crusades, the various divisions
of the German race, separated after their inroad into the seats of Roman
civilization, again met; no longer with the impetuosity of Franks and
Goths, but with the polished reserve of a Godfrey of Bouillon and the
chivalrous bearing of a Frederic Barbarossa. The German emperors and
nobles opened their courts and received their guests with brilliant
hospitality; the splendor of their tournaments and festivals attracted
crowds from great distances, and foremost among them poets and singers;
thus French and German poetry were brought face to face. While the
Hohenstauffen dynasty remained on the imperial throne (1138-1272) the
Suabian dialect prevailed, the literature of chivalry was patronized at
the court, and the Suabian minstrels were everywhere heard. These poets,
who sang their love-songs, or _minne songs_ (so called from an old German
word signifying love), have received the name of Minnesingers. During a
century and a half, from 1150 to 1300, emperors, princes, barons, priests,
and minstrels vied with each other in translating and producing lays of
love, satiric fables, sacred legends, _fabliaux_, and metrical romances.
Some of the bards were poor, and recited their songs from court to court;
but many of them sang merely for pleasure when their swords were
unemployed. This poetry was essentially chivalric; ideal love for a chosen
lady, the laments of disappointed affection, or the charms of spring,
formed the constant subjects of their verse. They generally sang their own
compositions, and accompanied themselves on the harp; yet some even among
the titled minstrels could neither read nor write, and it is related of of
one that he was forced to keep a letter from his lady-love in his bosom
for ten days until he could find some one to decipher it.
Among the names of nearly two hundred Minnesingers that have come down to
us, the most celebrated are Wolfram of Eschenbach (fl. 1210), Henry of
Ofterdingen (fl. 1250), and Walter of the Vogel Weide (1170-1227).
The numerous romances of chivalry which were translated into German rhyme
during the Suabian period have been divided into classes, or cycles. The
first and earliest cycle relates to Arthur and the Knights of the Round
Table; the are of Anglo-Norman origin, and were probably derived from
Welsh chronicles extant in Britain and Brittany before the poets on either
side of the Channel began to rhyme in the _Langue d'oui_. Of all the Round
Table traditions, none became so popular in Germany as that of the "San
Graal," or _"Sang Réal"_ (the real blood). By this was understood a cup or
charger, supposed to have served the Last Supper, and to have been
employed in receiving the precious blood of Christ from the side-wound
given on the cross. This relic is stated to have been brought by Joseph of
Arimathea into northern Europe, and to have been intrusted by him to the
custody of Sir Parsifal. Wolfram of Eschenbach, in his "Parsifal," relates
the adventures of the hero who passed may years of pilgrimage in search of
the sanctuary of the Graal. The second cycle of romance, respecting
Charlemagne and his twelve peers, was mostly translated from the
literature of France. The third cycle relates to the heroes of classical
antiquity, and exhibits them in the costume of chivalry. Among them are
the stories of Alexander the Great, and "Aeneid," and the "Trojan War."
But the age of German chivalry and chivalric poetry soon passed away.
Toward the end of the thirteenth century the Crusades languished, and the
contest between the imperial and papal powers raged fiercely; with the
death of Frederic I. the star of the Suabian dynasty set, and the sweet
sounds of the Suabian lyre died away with the last breath of Conradin on
the scaffold at Naples, in 1268.
During this period there was a wide difference between the minstrelsy
patronized by the nobility and the old ballads preserved by the popular
memory. These, however, were seized upon by certain poets of the time,
probably Henry of Ofterdingen, Wolfram of Eschenbach, and others, and
reduced to the epic form, in which they have come down to us under the
titles of the Heldenbuch and the Nibelungen Lied. They contain many
singular traits of a warlike age, and we have proof of their great
antiquity in the morals and manners which they describe.
The Heldenbuch, or Book of Heroes, which, in its present form, belongs to
the close of the twelfth century, is a collection of poems, containing
traditions of events which happened in the time of Attila, and the
irruptions of the German nations into the Roman Empire. The principal
personages who figure in these tales of love and war are Etzel or Attila,
Dietrich or Theodoric the Great, Siegfried, the Achilles of the North,
Gudrune, Hagan, and others, who reappear in the Nibelungen Lied, and who
have been already alluded to in the heroic legends of the Scandinavian
Edda. The Nibelungen Lied (from _Nibelungen_, the name of an ancient
powerful Burgundian race, and _Lied_, a lay or song) occupies an important
place in German literature, and in grandeur of design and beauty of
execution it far surpasses any other poetical production of this period.
The "Horny Siegfried," one of the poems of the Heldenbuch, serves as a
sort of prelude to the Nibelungen. In that, Siegfried appears as the
personification of manly beauty, virtue, and prowess; invulnerable, from
having bathed in the blood of some dragons which he had slain, save in one
spot between his shoulders, upon which a leaf happened to fall. Having
rescued the beautiful Chriemhild from, the power of a giant or dragon, and
possessed himself of the treasures of the dwarfs, he restores her to her
father, the King of the ancient city of Worms, where he is received with
regal honors, and his marriage with Chriemhild celebrated with
unparalleled splendor.
In the Nibelungen, Chriemhild is represented as the sister of Günther the
King of Burgundy; the gallant Siegfried having heard of her surpassing
beauty, resolves to woo her for his bride, but all his splendid
achievements fail to secure her favors. In the mean time tidings reach the
court of the fame of the beautiful Brunhild, queen of Isenland, of her
matchless courage and strength; every suitor for her hand being forced to
abide three combats with her, and if vanquished to suffer a cruel death.
Günther resolves to try his fortune, and to win her or perish, and
Siegfried accompanies him on condition that the hand of Chriemhild shall
be his reward if they succeed.
At the court of Brunhild, Siegfried presents himself as the vassal of
Günther, to increase her sense of his friend's power, and this falsehood
is one cause of the subsequent calamities. In the combats, Siegfried,
becoming invisible by means of a magic cap he had obtained from the
dwarfs, seizes the arm of Günther and enables him to overcome the martial
maid in every feat of arms: and the vanquished Brunhild bids her vassals
do homage to him as their lord. A double union is now celebrated with the
utmost pomp and rejoicing. The proud Brunhild, however, is indignant at
her sister-in-law wedding a vassal. In vain Günther assures her that
Siegfried is a mighty prince in his own country; the offended queen
determines to punish his deception, and ties him hand and foot with her
magic girdle, and hangs him upon a nail; Siegfried pitying the condition
of the king, promises his aid in depriving the haughty queen of the
girdle, the source of all her magic strength. He successfully accomplishes
the feat, and in a luckless hour presents the trophy to Chriemhild, and
confides the tale to her ear. A dispute having afterwards arisen between
the two queens, Chriemhild, carried away by pride and passion, produces
the fatal girdle, a token which, if found in the possession of any save
the husband, was regarded as an almost irrefutable proof of guilt among
the nations of the North. At this Brunhild vows revenge, and is aided by
the fierce Hagan, Günther's most devoted follower, who, having induced
Chriemhild to confide to him the secret of the spot where Siegfried is
mortal, seizes the first occasion to plunge a lance between his shoulders,
and afterwards bears the body to the chamber door of Chriemhild, who is
overwhelmed with grief and burning with resentment. To secure her revenge
she at length marries Etzel, or Attila, king of the Huns, who invites the
Burgundians to his court, and at a grand festival Chriemhild involves them
in a bloody battle, in which thousands are slain on both sides. Günther
and Hagan are taken prisoners by Dietrich of Berne, and put to death by
Chriemhild, who in turn suffers death at the hands of one of the followers
of Dietrich.
Such is an imperfect outline of this ancient poem, which, despite all its
horrors and improbabilities, has many passages of touching beauty, and
wonderful power. Siegfried, the hero, is one of the most charming
characters of romance or poetry. Chriemhild, at first all that the poet
could fancy of loveliness, becomes at last an avenging fury. Brunhild is
proud, haughty, stern, and vindictive, though not incapable of softer
emotions.
In the Scandinavian legend we find the same personages in grander outlines
and more gigantic proportions. The mythological portion of the story
occupies the most prominent place, and Brunhild is there represented as a
Valkyriur.
The time in which the scene of this historical tragedy is laid is about
430 A.D. From the thirteenth to the sixteenth century it was widely read,
and highly appreciated. But in the succeeding age it was almost entirely
forgotten. It was brought again to light in the beginning of the present
century, and since that time, it has been the subject of many learned
commentaries and researches.
4. THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES.--The period from the accession
of the House of Hapsburg to the beginning of the Reformation was crowded
with events of great social importance, but its literature was remarkably
poor. The palmy days of the minstrels and romancists had passed away.
Rudolph was an economical prince, who mended his own doublet to spare
money, and as he had no taste for minstrelsy, the composers of songs who
went to his court found no rewards there. The rank and influence of the
metropolis were transferred from Frankfort to Vienna, and the
communication with the southern and southwestern parts of Europe was
greatly impeded. The Germans were occupied in crusades against the Huns;
the court language was changed from west Gothic to an east Gothic dialect,
which was less national, and much of the southern culture and the European
sympathies which had characterized the reign of the Suabian emperors
disappeared.
Some inferior princes, however, encouraged versification, but the prizes
were so reduced in value that the knights and noblemen left the field in
favor of inferior competitors. A versifying mania now began to pervade all
classes of society; chaplains, doctors, schoolmasters, weavers,
blacksmiths, shoemakers--all endeavored to mend their fortunes by rhyming.
Poetry sank rapidly into dullness and mediocrity, while the so-called
poets rose in conceit and arrogance. The spirit of the age soon embodied
these votaries of the muse in corporations, and the Emperor Charles IV.
(1346-1378) gave them a charter. They generally called twelve poets among
the minnesingers their masters, and hence their name Mastersingers. They
met on certain days and criticised each other's productions. Correctness
was their chief object, and they seemed to have little idea of the
difference between poetical and prosaic expressions. Every fault was
marked, and he who had fewest received the prize, and was allowed to take
apprentices in the art. At the expiration of his poetical apprenticeship
the young poet was admitted to the corporation and declared a master.
Though the institution of the Mastersingers was established at the close
of the thirteenth century, it was not until the fifteenth and sixteenth
that it really flourished, particularly through the genius of Hans Sachs.
The institution, survived, however, though languishing, through the
seventeenth century, and the calamities of the Thirty Years' War. At Ulm
it outlasted even the changes which the French Revolution effected in
Europe, and as late as 1830 twelve old Mastersingers yet remained, who,
after being driven from one asylum to another, sang their ancient melodies
from memory in the little hostelry where the workmen used to meet in the
evening to drink together. In 1839 four only were living, and in that year
these veterans assembled with great solemnity, and declaring the society
of Mastersingers forever closed, presented their songs, hymns, books, and
pictures to a modern musical institution at Ulm.
While the early Mastersingers were pouring forth their strains with
undiminished confidence in their own powers, a new species of poetic
literature was growing up beside them in the form of simple and humorous
fables, or daring satires, often directed against the clergy and nobility,
which were among the most popular productions of the Middle Ages. Such
were "Friar Amis" and the "Ship of Fools." Indeed, from the year 1300 to
the era of the Reformation, we may clearly trace the progress of a school
of lay doctrine which was opposed to a great part of the teaching of the
church, and which was yet allowed to prevail among the people.
Among the fables, "Reynard the Fox" had a very early origin, and has
remained a favorite of the German people for several centuries. After many
transformations it reappeared as a popular work at the era of the
Reformation, and it was at last immortalized by the version of Goethe.
5. THE DRAMA.--We find the first symptoms of a German drama as early as
the thirteenth century, in rude attempts to perform religious pieces like
the old Mysteries once so popular throughout Europe. At first these
dramatic readings were conducted in the churches and by the priests, but
when the people introduced burlesque digressions, they were banished to
the open fields, where they assumed still greater license. Students in the
universities delighted to take part in them, and these exhibitions were
continued after the Reformation. There is no reason to suppose that the
early Christians objected to these sacred dramas or mysteries when they
were compatible with their religion. They were imported into Europe from
Constantinople, by crusaders and pilgrims, and became favorite shows to an
illiterate populace. Indeed, Christianity was first taught throughout the
north of Europe by means of these Mysteries and miracle plays, and the
first missionaries had familiarized their rude audiences with the
prominent incidents of Biblical history, long before the art of reading
could have been called in to communicate the chronicles themselves.
The most important writings of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries are
the works of the monks of the mystic school, which form the connecting
link between the great era of the Crusades and the greater era of the
Reformation. They kindled and kept alive a new religious fervor among the
inferior clergy and the middle and lower classes, and without the labors
of these reformers of the faith, the reformers of the church would never
have found a whole nation waiting to receive them, and ready to support
them. While the scholastic divines who wrote in Latin introduced abstruse
metaphysics into their theology, the mystics represented religion as
abiding in the sentiments of the heart, rather than in doctrines. Their
main principle was that piety depended not on ecclesiastical forms and
ceremonies, but that it consisted in the abandonment of all selfish
passions. The sentiments of the mystic writers were collected and arranged
by Tauler (1361), in a well-known work, entitled "German Theology."
Luther, in a preface to this book, expresses his admiration of its
contents, and asserts that he had found in it the doctrines of the
Reformation.
Another celebrated work of this school is "The Imitation of Christ,"
written in Latin, and generally attributed to Thomas à Kempis, a monk who
died 1471. It has passed through numberless editions, and still maintains
its place among the standard devotional works of Germany and other
countries.
Two other events prepared the way for the German reformers of the
sixteenth century--the foundation of the universities, (1350), and the
invention of printing. The universities were national institutions, open
alike to rich and poor, to the knight, the clerk, and the citizen. The
nation itself called these schools into life, and in them the great men
who inaugurated the next period of literature were fostered and formed.
The invention of printing (1438) admitted the middle classes, who had been
debarred from the use of books, to the privileges hitherto enjoyed almost
exclusively by the clergy and the nobility, and placed in their hands
weapons more powerful than the swords of the knights, or the thunderbolts
of the clergy. The years from 1450 to 1500 form a period of preparation
for the great struggle that was to signalize the coming age.