In connection with Melanchthon’s story some Protestants have recently urged that, in 1523, Luther was subject to attacks of “sudden indisposition” which came on him in the morning and from which he found relief in vomiting, and that the above incident is explained by this circumstance; the fact that he was sick “before the meal and after a lengthy drive proves that we have to do with a result not of intemperance but of nervous irritation.” Of such “sudden indispositions” arising from nervousness we, however, hear nothing, either during that year or for long after. None of the sources mention anything of the kind. On the contrary, at Whitsun, 1523, Luther wrote to Nicholas Hausmann that he felt “fairly well” (“satis bene valeo”); that he was of a nervous temperament is of course true, but that the morning hours were, as a rule, his worst we only begin to learn from his letters in 1530 and 1532; there, moreover, he does not mention sickness, but merely “giddiness and the attacks of Satan,” which were wont to come on him before breakfast, (“prandium,”[984] a meal taken about 9 or 10 a.m.). Melanchthon’s story speaks, however, not of the morning at all, but of the time before the “coena” (i.e. the principal meal, taken about 5 p.m.), when Luther was presumably no longer fasting.
Still, it would be better not to lay too much stress on this isolated particular incident.[985]
Next in the series of statements coming from preachers of the new Evangel, we meet that of Johann Agricola, who, according to Thiele, in the recently discovered notes of his (above, p. 216), when he had already separated from Luther, represents him as a “drunken profligate,” “who gave the rein to his passions and whom only his wife’s sway could influence for good.” Agricola says that Luther had contemptuously put aside certain letters of his, but “at last read them one morning before the wine had mounted to his head (‘mane, nondum vino calefactus’). Then he showed himself willing to take me into favour again”; this being the result of Katey’s intercession.
After this we have the testimony of the Swiss theologian, Leo Judæ, who, as Kolde tells us,[986] in the letter to Bucer quoted above (p. 277) and dated April 24, 1534, “reproaches Luther with drunkenness and all manner of things, and declares that such a bishop he would not tolerate even in the tiniest diocese.”
Valentine Ickelsamer, in 1525, voices the “fanatics,” whom Luther was attacking so vigorously, in his complaint, that the latter was “careless and heedless amidst all our needs, and spent his time in utter unconcern with the beer-swillers”; before this he had already said: “I am well acquainted with your behaviour, having been for a while a student at Wittenberg; I will, however, say nothing of your gold finger-ring, which gives scandal to so many people, or of the pleasant room overlooking the water where you drink and make merry with the other doctors and gentlemen.”[987] Neither Ickelsamer nor his friends formulate against Luther any explicit charge of startling or habitual excess. His daily habits, as just depicted, seemed to them to be at variance with his claim to being a divinely appointed preacher, called to raise mankind to higher things, but this was chiefly on account of their own peculiar narrow mysticism. It was from the same standpoint that, wishing to absolve himself from the charge of “inciting to rebellion,” Thomas Münzer, in 1524, writes in his “Schutzrede”[988] against the “witless, wanton lump of flesh at Wittenberg,” also twitting Luther with his “luxurious living” (vol. ii., p. 131), i.e. the daintiness of his food.
With regard to Simon Lemnius, it will suffice to refer to the passage already adduced (p. 274): “Luther boasts of being an evangelical bishop; how then comes it that he lives so far from temperately, being wont to surfeit himself with food and drink?” It is unnecessary to repeat how much caution must be exercised in appealing to this writer’s statements.
Among Catholic critics the first place is taken by the theologian, Ambrosius Catharinus, an Italian who lived far from Germany. His statement regarding Luther’s dancing and drinking has already been given (p. 276). This, together with many other of his strictures[989] on Luther’s teaching and work, were collected by Cochlæus. Catharinus was present at the Council of Trent from 1546-1547 and such reports as these may there have reached his ears. That Luther danced, or as Catharinus says, even led the dances, is not vouched for in any source. Only concerning Melanchthon have we a credible report, that he “sometimes danced.” On the other hand, we do know that Luther was frequently present at balls, weddings, christenings and other such occasions when food and drink were to be had in plenty. So distinguished and pleasant a guest was naturally much in demand, as Luther himself tells us on several occasions.
Luther’s letter to Spalatin, on January 14, 1524, concerning the (real or imaginary) agent sent by King Ferdinand to enquire into his life at Wittenberg, also speaks of the report carried to Court of his intercourse with women and habits of drunkenness (vol. ii., p. 132 f.).
Shortly before, in 1522, Count Hoyer of Mansfeld, a Catholic, wrote in a letter to Count Ulrich of Helfenstein, brought to light by a Protestant historian, “that Luther was a thorough scoundrel, who drank deeply, as was the custom at Mansfeld, played the lute, etc.” (vol. ii., p. 131). If, as we find recounted elsewhere, Luther, on his journey to the Diet, and at Worms itself, partook freely of the costly wines in which his enthusiastic friends pledged him, this was, after all, no great crime. It is probable, however, that some worse tales to Luther’s discredit in this matter of drinking had come to Hoyer’s ear.
At the time of the Diet of Worms, Aleander, the Papal Legate there present, indeed writes that Luther was “addicted to drunkenness,”[990] but the credulous diplomat probably trusted to what he heard from parties hostile to Luther and little acquainted with him. (See vol. ii., p. 78 f.) It is also a fact that, to Italians imbued with the idea that the Germans were drunkards, even quite moderate drinking might seem scandalous.