Thursday, 16 May 2024 Wittenberg, the Luthers, and the Reformation

Written 17 July 2024

Thursday morning, we stayed moored at Torgau until 8 am (to see off a small group of passengers who had signed up for the all-day excursion to Leipzig, a propos of Bach). Then at 8:05 am, the ship cast off and headed for Wittenberg. Nothing was scheduled for the morning except the briefing on tomorrow's disembarcation and a lecture by Program Director Eva on Modern Germany and how it got that way.

So we enjoyed a leisurely morning of scenic sailing. It was quite windy. I spotted wagtails, a small falcon of some sort, and ducks (just mallards, I think). And lots of little purple flowers all along the bank that looked sort of "onion family" to me. A large piece of farm machinery we passed about 9:15 looked to be chopping stuff for silage.

I hope you can make out, in the left-hand photo, that the banks were "scalloped," forming long series of rounded projections alternating with rounded indentations. David thinks it's a natural effect, arrising from currents, boat traffic, and the low profile of the banks.

The only excitement arose when a dark-colored helicopter, unmarked as far as we could see, came and hovered over the right bank for a while, then moved to the other side and hovered there for a short time before flying away again. The ship's crew said they'd never seen such a thing before, and we never found out why it was there.

At 10:00 am, Eva did the disembarkation briefing. It was simpler than usual, because our "cruise" extended for another couple of nights in a Berlin hotel once we left the ship, so it was just a matter of making sure everyone got on the right one of two buses, indicated by white or black luggage tags. She had warned us back in Prague that, if we were on the black-tag bus to the ship (as we were), we would also be on the black-tag bus from the ship, so we could just leave our color-coded tags on our luggage (which we had). That day's Viking Daily included a table of departure times for the following morning. Again, it was pretty simple—everybody's luggage out for pick-up by 8:00 am, white-tag bus leaves at 9:00 am, black-tag bus leaves at 9:15 am.

At 11:00 am, Eva lectured on "Germany Today." I was there in the lounge, but I confess I paid scant attention because I was in a corner working away on this diary.

The lunch-time appetizer was Viking's excellent orange and carrot soup with pomegranate arils. Alas, I reached the bottom of the bowl to find that they forgot to put the arils in mine. Still a very good soup.

For the main course, I chose pasta carbonara. On previous Viking trips, I've faulted the carbonara for being too dry, but this rendition did not suffer from that problem. If anything, it was too gooey, but I'll take that over dry any time.

When dessert was served, pandemonium broke out. Four of us at the table ordered the peach Melba dessert but almost gagged when we took the first bite. The bowls were hastily snatched away and the maitre d' took a taste. It seems the cook who made the raspberry sauce grabbed the wrong container and "sweetened" it with salt, and not just a little bit either! Our bowls were replaced in short order with fresh ones topped with a different mixed-berry sauce the kitchen had on hand. The maître d' is not a native English speaker, but he still cracked up when somebody asked when the keel-hauling would take place.

During lunch, we came to a wide spot in the river, the only one for miles around that was big enough to turn the ship in, so the captain (who will be taking the ship back upstream tomorrow morning), did a 180° turn in midriver (amazing what you can do with a couple of bow thrusters) and backed the rest of the way to the Wittenberg mooring, where we tied up at 1:00 pm.

For the afternoon's walking tour of Wittenberg, we were divided into five groups, and on the short bus ride into town I was lucky enough to get this shot of a stork on his nest, built atop a platform constructed for the purpose. Wise homeowners provide such platforms, because a stork nest can weight 500–1000 kg and is used (and added to) year after year. The birds and the nests are protected, so if they nest on your roof or chimney, you can be stuck with them for 50 years. This platform seems to have a bell suspended under it, I assume so that the homeowner can tell when the storks come and go.

This particular stork, our guide told us, is nicknamed Dirty Harry for his habit of filching socks and small undergarments off clotheslines—they apparently make wonderful nesting material. At the end of the season, when he and his mate and their young fly off to Africa, locals send a climber up to retrieve them.

The right-hand photo is of the tower of the church (through the bus windshield). It was designed to resemble a giant torch, because the reformation was a giant torch bringing light into the dark middle ages.

And here, where the bus dropped us off, is the famous church doorway where Luther posted his 95 theses. I say doorway because the actual wooden door he nailed them to is gone, destroyed 250 years ago during the seven-years war. The current doors are black bronze, made 150 years ago, with short versions of the theses cast right on the surfaces of them.

But the guide gave us a little context. Frederick III ("the Wise"), Prince Elector of Saxony, built his castle in Wittenberg 500 years ago, in the days when Wittenberg was a fortress (the town walls were taken down 140 years ago and a park how occupies the space). (Fred was of the house of Wettin and is therefore one of the riders in the Dresden tile mural.) The church forms part of one wing of that castle, which was originally a quadrangle. The photo at the right is of the long side of the church wall that faced the street. Fred III built it to serve as his private chapel, but in 1502 he founded a university next door, and invited the students and faculty to use it as well. They came and went through this side door (not even the main door of the church), which was conveniently located for them. And that door, through which the whole university passed at least once a week, became the spot where notices were posted. In other words, when Luther wanted to circulate his 95 theses for discussion (on Halloween of 1513), he tacked them up on the university bulletin board. His intention was to have them discussed locally here within the university, but his students immediately copied them out and sent them far and wide, rather to Luther's annoyance.

The reason Luther was here at all is that, when he founded his university, Fred III asked the Augustinian religious order to supply the faculty. They accordingly built an Augustinian monastary in town (or maybe Fred built it for them) and sent a crew of monks, one of whom was Martin Luther, to teach there. Luther was not happy to be, as he saw it, posted to a podunk town in the sticks, so he went off to Rome for three years but eventually came back and settled in. Martin Luther, Fred III, and Lucas Cranach (the famous painter, of whom more below) were all contemporaries here. Fred sheltered and protected Luther, and seemed sympathetic to his views, but he remained Roman Catholic all his life. He died without issue, and was succeeded by his brother, who had already become a Lutheran and was the first protestant prince elector.

From the famous door, we walked around the church and into what had been the enclosed castle courtyard (left) before two wings of the castle were removed.

One side of it (right-hand photo, just to the right of the building in the left-hand photo) is now the Christine-Bourbeck-Haus, a university building. Fred III's university has since merged with another to become the Martin-Luther-University Halle-Wittenberg. Few students are now located in Wittenberg, but some of the administration is still here.

From the courtyard, we were able to enter the church through a musuem of Luther and his contemporaries.

Among Luther's friends and collaborators was Georg Spalatin, a theologian and secretary to Fred III.

Another amazing item in the museum was an "antependium" produced, stitched, and embroidered personally by Queen Margarethe of Denmark and presented to the church in October 2016. She was well known for her interest in weaving and embroidery of church textiles and was apparently overjoyed to be asked to produce it for the reopening of the church after a four-year renovation. She's still alive, but abdicated the throne in January 2024 (after a 52-year reign) in favor of her son.

The antependium hangs on the front of the altar, and its color depends on the religious season. This one is moved from the museum to the church for Pentacost and Reformation Day.

Here at the left is the nave of the church. The interior is now all 19th century. The altarpiece depicts Jesus with Peter and Paul. I don't know what religious season we were in, but the antependium on the altar is white and gold.

At the right is part of the beautiful painted ceiling. Trompe l'oeuil draperies are painted on the walls.

the stained glass shows coats of arms of hundreds of towns that went protestant, and bronze reliefs depict notable people who became protestant.

Fred III was a great collector of religious relics; he had thousands, displayed on eight tables. I'm pretty sure the guide said they are still displayed to the public each year on All Saints' Day.

William II, the last emperor of Germany had a special wooden seat in the church. The wooden seats with coats of arms are not the choir, they are pews for nobles. The 18th century organ has 4000 pipes. In Luther's day, the church didn't have a real congregation, just the university and the prince. Even today, the town's parish church has 4000 members, this one under 200. Wittenberg never had a cathedral.

At the left here is Luther's grave. He's actually buried below the floor, and the bronze marker was originally flush with the floor, but during renovation, it was raised a few inches so that ti wouldn't be walked on. Sorry the lettering is upside down; lots of people were trying to take the photo, so I had to stand on the other side of it to get the shot.

In the photo of the nave above, you can just see one end of the raised grave marker in the lower right corner. On the other side of the central aisle, hidden behind our guide's blue sweater, is the grave at the right, that of Philip Melanchthon, author of the Augsburg Confession and Luther's closest collaborator.

About 80 professors are buried under the benches.

A poster outside listed the times and places of thrice-weekly English-language services in Luther's churches.

So while Luther and his buddies were fomenting reformation, one Katharina von Bora was getting fed up with convent life in Nimbschen Convent, about 50 km from Torgau. She had been placed in a convent at age 5 by her father; it was the only way for a girl to get an education. At age 9, she was transferred to Nimbschen, where her aunt was a nun. She apparently became a nun herself as a matter of course, having known nothing but convent life. But word of reform was spreading. In 1523, she wrote to Luther for help. He got in contact with the guy in Torgau who routinely supplied the convent with herring and sent him to smuggle her and 11 of her fellow inmates out of the place in empty fish barrels. Three were able to go home to their families, another eight found jobs or husbands, and that left just Katharina, who was living in Wittenberg in the household of Lucas Cranach the elder, famous painter (the only person ever to paint Luther from life), several times mayor of the city, and friend of Martin Luther. Cranach became her guardian and found her a job with a Wittenberg family, keeping house and tutoring the children. In 1525, she and Luther were married, setting a major precedent that protestant clergy (and former nuns) could marry.

Back in the bus, we drove further along the river, past a large collection of garden allotments, to the far side of town for a walking tour back along the main street to our 4:45 pm rendezvous with the buses at our starting point next to the castle church.

Here, at the left, is the courtyard of the Luther house. It is, in fact, the monastery built for the Augustinian monks who came to teach at the university (called the "black monastery" beause of the color of the monk's habits). Once the reformation got underway, the other monks left. (I like to think they didn't want to be standing too close to Luther when the lightning bolt from heaven struck.) The property was given to Luther (by whom was not made clear; Fred III maybe?), and he and Katharina raised their six children there.

Katharina was apparently a force to be reckoned with. Luther's affectionate nickname for her translates as "Mr. Kate." It was customary at the time for a professor's students to live with him, so the place housed up to 30 students at any given time, plus Luther and Kate and the children, plus servants, and numerous and frequent visitors. About 50 people sat down to dinner there every night. According ot our guide, 5000 liters of beer a year were purchased for the people in the Luther House. Kate kept all the logistics running, did the purchasing, oversaw the housekeeping, and still found time to discuss theological matters with her husband and his collaborators. That's her striding through the doorway in the right-hand photo. Luther was initially a little hesitant to marry, but later, he said we wouldn't trade her for anything.

The place was certainly capacious, but it can't have been very comfortable. Only four rooms had stoves and could be heated. Contrast that with Cranach's house, which had 100 rooms, all of which were heated.

After their parents' death, the children sold the house to the university, and it was used as a dormitory of for a long time; now it's a museum, but it's closed for two years for renovation.

At the left here is the Melanchthon house, several doors from the Luther house as we walked back along the main street. Melanchthon was born Philipp Schwartzerdt. His name meant "black earth," so as scholars sometimes did in those days, he adopted something that sounded more learned: Melanchthon is Greek for "black earth." He was 13 years younger than Luther and arrived in Wittenberg in 1518, a year after the theses. He was recognized in the day as a universal genius: he wrote about 2000 books, 600 poems, and 10,000 letters and he slept only 3 to 4 hours a night. He and Luther supported each other and helped each other with translations.

At the right is a little relief we passed on the way showing an infant and a skull. The caption reads (in Latin) "Today me, tomorrow you."

According to our guide, although the town's walls are gone, it still has the general outline of a medieval residence town. It's a Unesco World Cultural Heritage site. A siege 250 years ago damaged the castle and the castle church, but the steeple was rebuilt higher than it was before. The current population is about 50,000; it was smaller in the middle ages.

No cars are allowed in the historical center, but we were warned to watch for bicycles. The houses are 300 to 500 years old, 600 around the central market square. All the restoration dates from reunification. The street we walked along has always been very wide, unusual for Germany in the middle ages. The guide said no one ever gets lost in this town, because this wide street is basically the only one. Like lots of others we've seen in Europe, it had no street numbers until Napoleon imposed them. Before that, the Lion Pharmacy, for example, had a lion image over the door.

Wittenberg suffered no damage in the two world wars, and unlike every other place we've been, it has had no catastrophic flood damage, even in 2002. It was settled by people from the other side of the river, who spotted that sandy hill across the way ("Wittenberg" means "white mountain") and built on it, specifically to get away from floods.

The town's principal annual festival is "Luther's Wedding." They have a parade, and everyone dresses in period costumes, including a lot of children.

Here's a view of some of the houses along the principal street.

At the right is a view of a narrow canal that runs along the street, protected by railings. In the 14th century, it was the water supply to the city, including drinking water. Unfortuntely, it was also the trash disposal system. No wonder beer was considered safer.

In 1556, wells were dug in nearby hills, and water was brought to the city from them through wooden pipes.

Along the way, we passed another stork's nest. Our guide told us that baby storks reach adult size in just eight weeks. You can still tell the young from the parents, because the parents' beaks are red, whereas the babies' are black (just like cardinals!). At the end of the season, the babies leave for Africa before their parents do. They then stay in Africa for two to three years before returning to Europe, with red beaks, ready to mate. He also told us that very rarely you see black storks, but he couldn't say whether they were just a color morph or another species altogether. As far as I can tell from subsequent searches on the internet, the black ones are probably stray Ciconia nigra from farther east. The white ones are Ardea (formerly Ciconia) ciconia.

At the right is the local parish church, where Luther and Katharina were married and where their children were baptized, in the same font they still use today. Johannes Bugenhagen, pastor of the church, conducted the ceremony. Luther also preached there 2000 times.

Here's a view of the interior.

At the right is a nearer view of the alterpiece, which is by Cranach the elder, of course, as are all the painting on the surrounding walls. None of them depicts saints, only Wittenberg people. In the center is the last supper, with roast lamb on the table. Apparently, several of the figures are known to represents, e.g., Luther preaching in Torgau, Cranach himself, Malanchthon baptizing a child (he wasn't a priest or a clergy, but after the reformation, in an emergency, anyone could baptize), and even the printer of Luther's translation of the bible.

Behind the parish church is the little brick Corpus Christi chapel, built specifically for funerals.

Then we emerged into the main town square. Like the extra wide main street, it's extra large for a town this size (or at least the size it was when the square was laid out). A company was in town trying to sell hammocks, beanbag chairs, and other lounge furniture, so the square was littered with their brightly colored wares, available for test lounging. I don't know who the figure is in the ironwork over the well, but I'm betting on Luther.

At the left here, a feature of all historic town squares in Europe—a historic town hall that's now too small and no longer in use for that purpose.

And another such feature at the right—a bronze relief map of the town. The lady's finger is resting on the river. The castle church is at the far right—you can see it's tall thin tower. About halfway between the two, and a block in from the river, is a slightly yellowish patch. That's the town square. You may even be able to see the two towers of the parish church silhouetted against it. Hard to see here, but in real life, those towers are shiny on top from all the tourists who have rubbed them. After all it's the site of the first protestant church service, in 1521. The service was conducted (and the hymns sung) in German, but they repeated it the next day in Latin for those not yet ready for such a radical change.

Our walk through the town started all the way at the right-hand end of the map.

Elsewhere in the square was a painted plywood scene with the faces cut out, so that you could stand behind it to be photographed as Luther, Kate, and/or one of their children.

Another fun item was this "tractor seat" café table. But we didn't settle there. Instead we and several other members of the group chose a place in a little courtyard off the square and enjoyed, variously, coffee, beer, hot chocolate, and whatnot until it was time to walk the rest of the way to the bus rendezvous.

More stuff the guide told us on the bus or while we were walking around:

• Luther translated the Bible and (according to the guide) "gave us our modern language." He knocked out the New Testament in a few weeks while he was in hiding at one point, but the Old Testament took 12 years, being finally finished in 1534.
• The castle church is now owned by the evangelical preachers' academy; they also own an apartment building for the young vicars. Thr church/academy has a huge library.
• In the 16th century, this university was the largest in Europe, but 200 years ago, the Prussians arrived and closed it, then moved it elsewhere. I'm not sure whether that's the occasion on which it was merged with the University of Halle.
• Currently, every couple has the chance to send their children to kindergarten at age 1 if both want to work; 90% of children do go to kindergarten at age 1.
• The guide pointed out a building that is still the typical gray color of the Communist and GDR times. People had money for renovation and painting then, but they couldn't get the materials. You might go to Dresden because you heard there were windows for sale; if you needed 10 windows but had the chance to buy 50, you bought them and swapped with other people who had bought paint.
• A while ago, the old industries were closed; Wittenberg had a big chemical fertilizer factory, but only about 2000 people work there now. Unemployment was up to 30%, and young people left because there were no jobs, so average age here was very high. Now things are picking up, and there's a shortage of workers, even though the young people have come back. The guide thinks it will all settle out in one more generation.
• They tore down or repurposed schools because there were no children, so now they have to rebuild them.
• In response to a question, the guide guessed Wittenberg has 10% immigrants, but he doesn't really know and hasn't thought about it.
• Leipzig is 30 min away by train; it's growing fast and has the largest airport in Europe.
• Life in smaller towns is cheaper, so its cheaper here than in Berlin.
• In big cities, people mostly have to rent. In a smaller place you might be able to buy a house.
• Primary school starts at age 6. You need a recommendation to a gymnasium for grades 5–12, and you need to do that if you want to go to university. You just go to grade 10 for secondary school, then a profession.
• Schools here are good, but 44% of income goes to taxes.
• Church attendance is higher in the west than in the east, a holdover from the GDR time.
• Church goers were disadvantaged under the GDR, but Angele Merkle's family overcame that; even though her father was a pastor, she became a physician.
• Church members pay a tax of 1 to 3% to support the church, so to be disenrolled from a church membership, you must go to the city authorities, not the church authorities.

Back at the ship, we were greeted at the gangway by the chef bearing a tray of little cream puffs on sticks. I got my usual, but this time rather belated, photo of the portrait of the ship's godmother, Adriana Filkaszova. The reason it's slaunchwise is that it's the only angle where I could get enough glare off the image to see her face.

For dinner, I had the regional-specialty beef and barley soup, then passed up braised lamb shoulder for a medium-rare ribeye with maître d'hôtel butter from the always-available menu. Viking does a good ribeye, and I like to order it at least once on each trip. For dessert, I went back to the regular menu for quite a passable tart Tatin (upside caramelized apple tart).

And a P.S.: As I strolled the streets of Wittenberg, I mused that these were the very paths that young Hamlet was supposed to have trodden before he went home to Denmark. But, then, to quote the Isley Brothers, waaait a minute! Hamlet was written about 1600, but when was it supposed to be set? A little Googling around reveals that most sources say the 1300's or 1400's—in other words, before the University of Wittenberg existed! Oh well, you don't read Shakespeare for its historical accuracy . . .