We are generally fully aware of the global
consequences of the paradigm shift moving the Middle Ages into the early modern
age, traditionally identified as the Renaissance, as problematic as that term
might be [1]. Of course, recently the realization has dawned upon us that there
was no clear-cut division or separation. Despite the development of the
printing press by Johann Gutenberg in Mainz ca. 1450, the manuscript culture
did not simply disappear although a growing book market with incunabula and
then early modern prints certainly emerged and dominated popular culture since
ca. 1470 [2]. However, the aristocratic courts witnessed a steady decline,
whereas urban centers increasingly gained influence and soon dominated
political life and especially the economy. Intriguingly, the military situation
also changed since new weapon systems and strategies transformed the war
operations all over Europe. Not only did the firearms radically replace knights
as the major combatants, here not even talking about the development of the
longbow and the crossbow, a new type of soldier appeared on the scene, the
mercenary, or lansquenet. Social unrest also began to play a major role,
whether we think of the Peasants’ Revolt in England in 1381 or the Peasants’
War in Germany in 1525. Moreover, the ‘discovery’ of the New World by
Christopher Columbus in 1492 and the strong protests against the traditional
Catholic Church by Martin Luther since 1517, along with many companions,
leading to the Protestant Reformation, exerted a huge impact on late medieval
society. Another major factor was the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans in
1453, which changed the entire military situation in Southeastern Europe and
led to a massive exodus of Greek scholars to Europe, who thus contributed to a
strong influx of new or ancient ideas, the study of Greek, and a new
familiarity with classical texts in the original language. Scholars have
discussed those aspects and others already for a long time especially because
paradigm shifts have always attracted the most attention since they shed
significant light on social, medical, technological, economic, religious,
aesthetic, and literary conditions and changes that affect them deeply. It is,
however, not the purpose of this paper to examine the transformation of the
late Middle Ages into the early modern age in such general terms. Instead, the
focus will rest on the question regarding available sources to analyze what
might have changed for the ordinary people who lived in the sixteenth century.
It is one thing to observe those material or political aspects in global terms,
but it is quite another one to probe the everyday-life conditions both in the
countryside and in the city in that period. Historians would be well advised to
accept also literary sources for their study of the basic situation on the
ground if they want to gain a solid grasp of the common topics, ideas, values,
fears, problems, conflicts, and also the prevalent discourse among the public
at that time. While fictional texts do not necessarily present actual or
factual conditions, they are certainly predicated on the real framework in many
different situations. Literary scholars, on the other hand, can certainly
profit from the insights provided by chronicles, letters, political statements,
treatises, or art works as important background for the discussion of the
fictional narratives. To state the obvious, interdisciplinary research thus
constitutes the most productive approach to the task at hand if we want to gain
really comprehensive perceptions of a certain culture, people, or economic and
political system. These general reflections lead us directly to the focus of
this paper, sixteenth-century entertaining literature, such as the anonymous
Till Eulenspiegel (first printed in 1510/1511; perhaps written by the Brunswick
tollkeeper Hermann Bote), the collection of sermon narratives by Johannes
Pauli, his Schimpf und Ernst (1522), and Georg Wickram’s Das Rollwagenbüchlein
(1555). Those German texts would have to be read in light of the older or
contemporary European literature, such as Boccaccio’s Decameron (ca. 1350),
Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (ca. 1400), the anonymous French Cent
Nouvelles Nouvelles (ca. 1460), or Marguerite de Navarre’s contemporary
Heptaméron (1558/1559). But whereas high and late medieval literature normally
profiled knightly protagonists, in this new body of secular narratives ? there
were already late medieval antecedents, such as Der Stricker’s mæren (ca.
1220-1240) and the Old French fabliaux (thirteenth century) ? in the sixteenth
century we suddenly face peasants, merchants, lansquenets, craftsmen,
prostitutes, horse traders, or wagon drivers as the main figure we are invited
to laugh about.
Georg
Wickram
Georg Wickram’s Rollwagenbüchlein proves to be such a
valuable source for social, economic, religious, and political history because
here we encounter a fascinating panoply of ordinary people, as we would call
them today, who operate within their own spaces and become the object of the
audience’s laughter [3]. Comedy has always allowed us to see into a mirror
reflecting ourselves, and then to recognize the world behind the mirror. The
Alsace writer and poet Wickram (ca. 1505?ca. 1561), who is highly respected for
his Shrovetide plays, novels, and some poems, pursued the same goal as
countless other poets before him, providing entertainment to his audience, but
in that process he turned to very ordinary material or people to make us laugh
about their foolishness or smartness, their failures and ignorance, their
strengths and weaknesses, their verbal skills and cleverness [4]. Hence,
studying this work, written explicitly for travelers who need to fill empty
time while seated in their coaches, offers not only entertainment, but also
much insight into the pragmatic aspects of everyday life in the early modern
period. It is worth noting the difference to the framework utilized by Geoffrey
Chaucer where the storytellers are pilgrims moving along on their way to
Canterbury riding on horseback. Already this great English author introduced
many different characters from a non-aristocratic background, such as the
Merchant, the Reeve, the (in) famous Wife of Bath, the Franklin, etc. We
observe a fairly similar display of figures in Wickram’s Rollwagenbüchlein,
though the register includes more people on the lower rung of society [5]. This
might have been typical of sixteenth-century German literature because we
discover the same phenomenon in Till Eulenspiegel and in Pauli’s Schimpf und
Ernst, or in the works by Wickram’s successors, such as Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof
[6]. Considering the fact that Wickram’s Rollwagenbuchlein experienced such an
impressive success in the book market, we face here a great opportunity to
study very closely the discourse pertaining to the lives and experiences of
peasants, lansquenets, merchants, widows, or prostitutes.
Peasants
Already the very first tale in Wickram’s collection
highlights the new emphasis on people living in the countryside. We observe the
same phenomenon in contemporary Shrovetide Plays, such as by the Nuremberg
cobbler Hans Sachs (1494–1576), and also in late fifteenth- and
sixteenth-century art, especially in images included in Books of Hours with
their emphasis on the seasons of the year [7]. Pieter Brueghel’s (ca. 1525-1569)
works, above all, come easily to mind regarding the depiction of peasants in
paintings. In the first story of the Rollwagenbüchlein, a peasant falls badly
ill and eventually pledges a pilgrimage to a church dedicated to Saint Vitus
because he is not recovering. His pledge seems to help because he gets well
fairly soon after that, but then he faces so much work in the fields and his
vineyard that there is no time for him to go on that promised pilgrimage.
However, he feels so bad about his involuntary negligence that he eventually
hires a proxy to carry out that duty on his behalf. Unfortunately, that man who
is really the butt of the joke, is completely ignorant of religious holidays,
saints, and the history of the Christian Church, so he never reaches the desired
site on the top of a steep hill, being too lazy to climb up all the way, and is
content with having visited a monastery dedicated to All Saints at the bottom,
especially because he keeps the donations destined for the saint for himself.
Although the peasant is dissatisfied that his representative did not secure a
certificate from Saint Vitus, he is content with the lame excuse and pays his
proxy the sum of money agreed upon. The narrator laments the naïveté of the
protagonist but takes him as a representative of many people who are ignorant
of the true Christian teachings. Instead of turning their hearts to Christ and
to demonstrate humility and love for their fellow people, poor and rich, they
worship some saints, go on pilgrimages, donate money, etc. Of course, Wickram
was a Protestant, so he easily embraced the new principles of the Lutheran
Church, but his criticism at large, as we will see further, consistently hit
those whom he charges of hypocrisy, arrogance, and foolishness. In the sixth
story, for instance, we learn of two peasants who are constantly involved in
bitter fighting each other. They constantly seek solutions from the Mayor as
their arbiter, which irritates the poor official and also his wife. One day,
while her husband is out, the two peasants appear again to ask for a decision
regarding a fight between the two. The Mayor’s wife expresses her irritation
about these two bothersome men, but then she explodes into a fury when one of
them simply asks whether she is, by chance, a prostitute. She bitterly rejects
that implication as utterly disrespectful, but then has to learn from that
peasant that this question served only as an illustration of how they all tend
to get into fights. However, as we also can conclude, although the focus rests
on peasants, the larger meaning pertains to all people who so easily
misunderstand each other and quickly face conflicts simply because they do not
listen to each other and mistake the others’ words. The one peasant who teases
the mayor’s wife, does not really think or even assume that she is a
prostitute, but he illustrates to her, and thus to us, how easily people jump
to unjustified conclusions, take statements in the wrong way, and hence badly
miscommunicate, one of the fundamental reasons and causes for deep
disagreements throughout time in all cultures [8]. Facetiously, the same topic
is also addressed in the eighth tale where two friends seemingly get into a big
fight because one of them, who owes money to the other, claims, that his friend
equally owes him something. The two squabble badly for a while about this
‘false’ claim, but in the end the second man laughingly reveals that the debt
consists of brotherly love and loyalty. This issue is also mirrored in economic
exchanges, such as in the eleventh tale where an innkeeper seems to offer free
food but really wants to charge the guests for the full meal by insisting that
they only would have to pay for a fat capon, which costs as much as the entire
meal. One man, however, hides that capon, asks for more food, and finally
returns the capon so that they are all scot-free, and this to the innkeeper’s
great irritation.