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LU T H E R’ S J E WS
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LUTHER’S
JEWS
A Journey into Anti-Semitism

T HOM A S K AU FM A N N

Translated by
L E SL EY SH A R PE A N D
JER E MY NOA K E S

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3
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© Thomas Kaufmann 2017
Originally published in Germany as Luthers Juden © 2014 Philipp
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First Edition published in 2017
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The translation of this work was funded by Geisteswissenschaften International – Translation


Funding for Humanities and Social Sciences from Germany, a joint initiative from Germany,
a joint initiative of the Fritz Thyssen Foundation, the German Federal Foreign Office, the
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(German Publishers & Booksellers Association).
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CON T E N T S

List of Illustrations vi

Introduction: ‘Luther’s Jews’—An Unavoidable Topic 1

1. Neighbours yet Strangers: Jews on the Fringes


of Luther’s World 12

2. The Church’s Enemies: Luther’s Early Theological


Position on the Jews 40

3. The Jews’ Friend?: Luther’s ‘Reformation’ of


Attitudes towards the Jews 54

4. Hopes Disappointed, Expectations Fulfilled:


The Late 1520s and the 1530s 76

5. The Final Battle for the Bible: Luther’s


Vicious Writings 94

6. Mixed Responses: The Reception of Luther’s


Attitude to the Jews from the Sixteenth to
the Twentieth Century 125

Conclusion: A Fallible Human Being 153

Notes 163
Sources and Bibliography 172
Index 187

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L I S T OF I L LUS T R AT IONS

1. ‘The Birth of Christ’ (c. 1370). Altar painting in the


Augustinian Monastery Church in Erfurt. As this painting
hung in Luther’s monastery in Erfurt we may assume he
knew it. © Dirk Urban/Erfurt 15
2. Desecration of the host in Sternberg. Woodcut, Lübeck,
1492. Jews plunge knives into hosts, thus inflicting renewed
agony on Christ’s body. 17
3. Entrance to the Regensburg synagogue. Engraving by
Albrecht Altdorfer, 1519. 19
4. Interior of the Regensburg synagogue. Engraving by
Albrecht Altdorfer, 1519. 20
5. The Ritual Murder of Simon of Trent. Woodcut by Michael
Wolgemut, in Hartmann Schedel, Register des buchs der
Croniken und Geschichten. . . . (Nuremberg, 1493), Bl. CCLIIIIv.21
6. Polemical pamphlet (fragment), c. 1480, depicting a person
named ‘Gossel . . . herald of all things Jewish’ and shown as
an idol-worshipper with incriminating attributes.
Previously erroneously identified as Josel von Rosheim. 32
7. Church and Synagogue. Sculptures, c. 1230, from the
portal to the southern transept of Strasbourg cathedral.
© Rama (CC BY-SA 2.0 FR) 44
8. Title pages of various editions of Luther’s sermons on
usury of 1519/20. 49
9. Title page of the pamphlet An Incident involving a Great
Multitude of Jews (1523). The picture shows the advance of

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l ist of il lust r at ions

‘Red Jews’ into parched and inhospitable terrain.


Bayerische Staatsbibliothek München, Res/4 Ded.
102#Beibd.4, title page 67
10. Title page of Michael Kramer’s pamphlet Ein underredung
vom glawben . . . (Erfurt: M. Maler, 1523), showing the
clergyman Kramer and the rabbi Jacob von Brucks
engaged in discussion at table. 69
11. Title page of an anonymous pamphlet recounting a ritual
murder in Pösing in Hungary. 74
12. Title page of Antonius Margaritha’s Der gantz Jüdisch
glaub . . . (Augsburg: H. Steiner, 1530). 80
13. Portrait of the Basel Hebrew scholar Sebastian Münster.
Title page of his principal work, Kosmographey (Basel, 1588). 103
14. ‘The Jewish Sow’. Woodcut based on a weather-beaten
early fourteenth-century sandstone relief on the parish
church of Wittenberg. Luther mentions it in On the Shem
Hamphoras (WA 53, p. 600 f.). 120
15. Martin Luther in death. Brush drawing by Lukas
Furtenagel, 1546 (Berlin, Staatl. Museen Preußischer
Kulturbesitz, Kupferstichkabinett). © akg-images 162

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Introduction
‘Luther’s Jews’—An Unavoidable Topic

O n 28 January 1546, on a journey to Eisleben, his birthplace, Martin


Luther suffered a heart attack. The journey was to be his last; three
weeks later, on 18 February, he died. His description of this unpleasant
and frightening event in a letter to his ‘beloved wife’ Käthe four days
later contained a curious explanation, no doubt intended to reassure his
wife, who had already been anxious when he set off:

I felt my strength leave me just outside Eisleben. It was my own fault. But if
you’d been there you would have said it was the fault of the Jews or of their
God. For just outside Eisleben we had to go through a village where a lot of
Jews live and perhaps it was they who blew on me so hard. Eisleben is a
place with more than fifty Jews and there is no doubt that as I passed
through the village I felt such a cold wind blow through the carriage onto
my head, through my cap, that it seemed as if my brain would turn to ice.
That’s probably what made me feel dizzy.1

The symptoms as described by Luther, a seriously overweight 63-year-


old, point to one explanation in modern medical language: a narrowing
of the coronary blood vessels. Probably as a result of walking some dis-
tance alongside the coach2—his ‘own fault’—Luther broke out in a sweat.
The infarction was accompanied by severe pain and constriction in the
chest (angina pectoris). The chest pains radiated into his left arm and this
acute attack brought on nausea and dizziness. As the attack massively
reduced his heart’s pumping action his blood pressure plummeted,
resulting in cold sweats and shivering. The low winter temperatures most

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likely intensified this effect. The ‘cold corridor’, a depression between the
Mansfeld plateau and the Hornburg ridge,* at the start of which lies the
village of Rissdorf, nowadays Niederrissdorf, just outside Eisleben, is
notorious for its biting east winds. These features of climate and topog-
raphy may well have been responsible for Luther’s particularly intense
experience of life-threatening cold. Today the point on the Luther trail
named ‘Cold Place’ is a reminder of this event, albeit the topography is not
entirely accurate.
In the days that followed Luther did not take things easy. He was
engaged in efforts that were ultimately successful to mediate in a quarrel
between the Counts of Mansfeld and bring about a settlement. Equitable
solutions to inheritance disputes were being sought; issues of sovereignty
also involved rulings on church organization. From the start, however,
Luther had a wider agenda: ‘As soon as the main issues are settled I have to
get on with expelling the Jews […],’ he wrote to Käthe in the letter quoted
above of 1 February 1546.3 Although Albrecht, one of the ruling Counts of
Mansfeld, was hostile to the Jews and had already disclaimed responsibil-
ity for them, Luther went on, as yet he had not done anything to them.
‘God willing, I’ll help Count Albrecht from the pulpit and also abandon
them.’4 Thus the great reformer, this man who had long since become an
iconic figure, who was both regarded with awe by his followers and
assailed by enemies and opponents, had one final ‘earthly’ care as he
returned to Eisleben, where his life had begun, namely the expulsion of a
few dozen Jews from Mansfeld. Thanks to the protection of the Dowager
Countess Dorothea von Mansfeld-Vorderort the Jews had found refuge
there when they were forced to leave the bishopric of Merseburg. Among
the places where Luther spent a significant length of time, Eisleben was
the only one in which Jews were tolerated during his lifetime. His attempts
to expel them from there too were to succeed after his death.
In the last sermons Luther preached in the church of St Andrew in
Eisleben shortly before his death he expounded the distinctiveness of

* Translators’ note: an area of high ground near Mansfeld in present-day


Saxony-Anhalt.

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faith in Christ, contrasting it to the religion of the Jews, Turks, and


‘Papists’. Christians must be conscious that they can neither eradicate
nor fight against the opponents of the true faith. The Church, he said,
would go on being under siege and in need of forgiveness; it had to live
with difference. At the conclusion to his final sermon in Eisleben,
preached on 14 or 15 February, he added a Warning Against the Jews,5 in
which he spoke out against having Jews in the country, as they did ‘great
damage’. For that reason, they should either be converted and baptized
or banished. The fact that Christ was ‘cousin’ to the Jews and ‘born of
their flesh and blood’6 might be a motive for converting them, but
according to Luther ‘Jewish blood’ had now become ‘more watery and
wild’ and so of ‘inferior quality’ by comparison with Jesus’s day.7
Nowadays Jews were constantly slandering and violating Christ, Mary,
and us Christians by using terms such as ‘whore’s child’, ‘whore’, and
‘changeling’. Particular care was necessary if Jews claimed to be doctors,
for they had the skill to poison their victims in such a way that death
ensued months or even years later and so nothing could be proved
against them. Those, however, who allowed this to happen shared in the
guilt of this ‘alien sin’:8 ‘For this reason you who are rulers should not
tolerate them but rather drive them away. But if they convert, renounce
their usury and accept Christ we shall gladly regard them as our
brothers.’9 Any Jew who refused to convert the reformer regarded as a
slanderer of Christ who had nothing else in mind than to ‘suck Christians
dry and, if he can, kill them’.10
Luther’s last public statement, which appeared in print after his
death, was an emphatic warning to Christian society against being
implicated in ‘Jewish sin’. Jews in his view ‘contaminated’ a Christian
community by their evil ways, which in addition to blasphemous
­practices included ‘perverse’ economic and other activities. All their
energies were aimed at destroying Christians and this must inevitably
bring down God’s wrath upon them. ‘Conversion’ or ‘expulsion’: there
was no other option because the Jews were so dangerous: they were poi-
soners; they were sorcerers in league with the Devil, their God, and had
been out to kill Luther himself for years; they were idolaters and

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blasphemers whom God would crush. Luther’s wife shared his fear of
the Jews. He also assumed his listeners would concur with him and, as
far as we know, this Wittenberg theology professor did not in fact put
them off with his anti-Jewish vitriol. Even Count Albrecht VII of
Mansfeld-Hinterort was compliant; from 1547 Luther’s homeland was
‘free of Jews’.
The reformer’s hatred of the Jews incorporated features that cannot
simply be labelled ‘theological’ or ‘religious’ and go beyond the trad-
itional Christian hostility to the Jews that can already be seen in the
New Testament. Luther’s reference to the quality of Jewish blood and
to extortion and usury, his claim that Jews committed murder by
­poisoning and similar accusations were fed from the various murky
channels of a specifically pre-modern anti-Semitism, in other words
from a hostility resting on the belief that this ‘species of humanity’
shared a specific ‘nature’.11
Luther took pre-modern anti-Semitism for granted, adopted it, and
helped to spread it. In the light of the expectations that people con-
sidered themselves justified in placing upon Luther as a theologian, reli-
gious communicator, profound biblical exegete, and German professor,
and in view of the authority he acquired as hero of the Reformation and
‘father of the Protestant Church’, his contempt for the Jews, which was
unchecked by theological rigour, has serious implications. In our times
it casts a deep shadow over his personality and his achievements. The
fact that in the early days of the Reformation Luther, by virtue of his
book That Jesus Christ was born a Jew (1523), did more than anyone else in
the sixteenth century to further unconditional toleration of the Jews,
indeed to further religious toleration in general, is largely forgotten as a
result of the image of the ageing Luther as hostile to them. But this is a
mistake. No other figure from the Reformation period even approaches
Luther in the depth of his inner contradictions and his ambivalent
behaviour towards the Jews, for he was Janus-faced, his intellect the
‘battleground’ for two opposing eras.
The history of his reception swings between his being seen as sup-
porting those hostile to the Jews and those favourably disposed towards

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them. There is some justification for both views, a fact that reveals the
deep ambiguity in his attitude to the ‘Jewish question’. Today Luther
scholars are as divided as ever on this matter. Admittedly, the fact that in
the present day his attitude to the Jews has become a sort of pivotal issue
in understanding his character and theology must be regarded as a new
development by comparison with the views of Luther prevailing from
the sixteenth to the nineteenth centuries. For in older studies the ques-
tion of his stance towards the Jews was not even considered, let alone
made a focus of interest. This new development is particularly closely
bound up with the reception of Luther in the first half of the twentieth
century.
Older histories of the Protestant church, particularly in the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries, highlighted the younger reformer’s
‘call for tolerance’. The increased efforts of Pietists to evangelize the
Jews made them speak out for toleration. The overall impression is that
in the later seventeenth century and above all in the eighteenth, the
­century of the Enlightenment, Luther’s hostility to the Jews was largely
forgotten. Towards the end of the sixteenth century the dissemination
of the most extreme of his ‘Jewish writings’, On the Jews and their Lies
(1543), had been forbidden by Imperial decree; none the less, in the age
of confessional rivalry Lutheran theologians quoted it to oppose
granting Jews the right to reside in Protestant cities and territories.
Pietists, on the other hand, disregarded it. It was, however, included in
the big Luther editions of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. A
‘proto-racist’ pamphlet by the Leipzig preacher Ludwig Fischer, who in
1838 used quotations from, amongst other sources, On the Jews and their
Lies, to combat contemporary moves to emancipate the Jews and
oppose the ideals of the French Revolution, clearly indicates that
Luther’s hatred of the Jews functioned as a sort of mental resource. Even
when inactive, it remained in people’s consciousness and could be
reactivated at any time.
In 1910 Reinhold Lewin, who subsequently became a rabbi, wrote a
dissertation on Luther’s attitude towards the Jews (Luthers Stellung zu den
Juden), in which he emphasized the tension between the early and late

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Luther and employed psychology to explain it. This study heralded the
start of scholarly research into the topic. The dissertation won the
annual prize of the Protestant Theology Faculty at the University of
Breslau and the following year it was published in a prestigious theo-
logical series edited, among others, by Reinhold Seeberg, a theologian
who was later linked to the Nazi Party (NSDAP). In 1916 Gotthard
Deutsch, the author of the Luther entry in the fourth edition of the
Jewish Encyclopedia, stressed that at the beginning of the twentieth
century references to Luther from those hostile to and benevolent
towards the Jews were evenly balanced. Towards the end of the Weimar
Republic, however, this balance between the contrasting standpoints
on the Jews held by the younger and older Luther was shifting more and
more clearly. Under the influence of the ‘German faith’ movement and
racist ideologies, on the one hand Protestant theologians made use of
Luther’s On the Jews and their Lies in a concerted effort to connect with the
anti-Semitic Zeitgeist. On the other, proponents of völkisch† ideology,
with its emphasis on ethnicity and German racial superiority, appropri-
ated Luther as a forerunner of anti-Semitism and accused the ‘Jewified’
Protestant church of suppressing this essential characteristic of his.
Selected extracts from his 1543 treatise now appeared in mass editions,
first in a version edited by the Saxon Luther scholar Georg Buchwald.
A later edition was published by Mathilde Ludendorff,‡ whose works
propounded a religion based on German ethnicity. Finally, the Luther
scholar Theodor Paul, an adherent of the ‘German Christians’,§ also
brought out a version. What these truncated, pamphlet-like editions,
which in some cases grossly distorted Luther’s text, had in common

Translators’ note: völkisch denotes an ideology and movement dating from
c. 1900 that stressed the importance of ethnicity in determining national identity
and considered that human mentalities and national cultures were largely shaped
by race/ethnicity. These beliefs were usually accompanied by anti-Semitism.

Translators’ note: second wife of General Erich Ludendorff, who was a highly
influential figure in German politics from 1916 to 1918.
§
Translators’ note: ‘German Christians’ were members of the Protestant
churches who, during the Nazi period, attempted to reconcile Nazi ideology with
Christian beliefs.

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was that they omitted, either partially or completely, the lengthy pas-
sages, constituting about two thirds of the text, in which the reformer
attempted to prove, using Old Testament texts, that Jesus was Israel’s
Messiah, as foretold by prophecy. Thus what was of primary import-
ance to Luther the biblical scholar, namely to demonstrate that his
Christian reading of the Old Testament was the only legitimate one, was
something that interested the adherents of the ‘German faith’ move-
ment and their Christian variants not one bit.
In the Munich Luther edition, which was closely linked to the
Confessing Church,** On the Jews and their Lies was introduced as ‘the
work to which Luther owes his fame as a leading anti-Semite’. According
to the editor, the missiologist Walter Holsten, it was ‘a veritable arsenal
of the weapons of which anti-Semitism had availed itself’.12 This
appraisal was not very far off that of the Catholic Adolf Hitler, who had
allegedly hailed Luther as a ‘great man’, a ‘giant’, who ‘at a stroke’ had
pierced the ‘twilight’ and seen ‘the Jew as we are only beginning to see
him today’.13 Against the backdrop of judgments such as this it hardly
seems absurd that Julius Streicher, the founder of the anti-Semitic
propaganda paper Der Stürmer, who was condemned to death at
Nuremberg for crimes against humanity, appealed at his trial to Luther’s
late work on the Jews and proclaimed that Luther and not he should be
in the dock.
In the early stages of his espousal of the Jewish cause—which was
unprecedented in the Protestant church14—Dietrich Bonhoeffer admit-
tedly also made use of Martin Luther (not only his treatise That Jesus
Christ was born a Jew of 1523 but also the argument he put forward in his
Warning Against the Jews of 1546 that if Jews converted they were to be
treated as full members of the congregation and community,15 a view
that could not be reconciled with the introduction of the Aryan
Paragraph into the realm of the church). This fact emphasizes how

** Translators’ note: established in 1934, the Confessing Church (Bekennende


Kirche) was a grouping of Lutherans who resisted the influence of Nazi ideology
on Christian doctrine.

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confused, ambivalent, and equivocal Luther’s influence in the Third


Reich could be. But in the final analysis the lone voice of Bonhoeffer
changes little as far as the main tendency in the history of Luther recep-
tion is concerned. Church leaders such as provincial bishop Martin
Sasse of Thuringia referred to Luther’s hostility towards the Jews to
justify their enthusiasm for the burning of Jewish synagogues during
the Reich ‘Night of Broken Glass’ [Kristallnacht] on 9/10 November 1938;
his polemical pamphlet Martin Luther on the Jews: Away with Them!, which
was published in a print run of 100,000 copies, contained amongst
other things a compilation of quotations from On the Jews and their Lies
and may well have been one of the most effective vehicles for the dis-
semination of the image of Luther as an ‘anti-Semite for our time’. By
drawing on Luther, leading voices from the Church and theological
circles were demonstrating that Protestant Christianity could be
­
adapted to fit in with the ideological Zeitgeist that was remaking politics
and ­society and moulding them to an ideology based on race and
German ethnicity and could make its own contribution to the ‘anti-­
Semitism required today for the good of our nation’, as the Church
­historian Erich Vogelsang put it.16
Against the background of this reception history it is not surprising
that in the end the enemies of National Socialist Germany adopted this
model of Luther interpretation and saw in him Hitler’s forerunner. This
genealogical construction, which—and this should not be forgotten—
was of course a continuation of the German Christians’ and Nazi line of
interpretation but from a negative perspective, reached a sort of high
point in a pamphlet by a British schoolteacher named Peter F. Wiener
and entitled ‘Martin Luther. Hitler’s Spiritual Ancestor’ (1945). A reprint
of this pamphlet, published by the American Atheist Press in 1999, has
on its title page a mound of corpses of Jews killed in the gas chambers.
For Wiener Luther is the radical opponent of the liberal intellect on
which the modern world was built. He is the enemy of reason, a servant
of princes, an apostle of absolutism, the one who inaugurated the
mental habit of obedience and of slavish subordination characteristic of
the Germans. Luther, it is claimed, advocated an annihilation of the

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Jews of a kind that not even Hitler surpassed. A judgement such as this,
first published in 1945 but repeatedly adopted and confirmed by modern
commentators, makes Luther appear as the originator of that unique
crime against humanity summed up in the name Auschwitz.
A major objection to this view is the fact that the form of anti-Semitism
that aimed to eliminate the Jews, to kill them systematically, was com-
pletely alien to the historical Luther. It also ignores the fact that Luther
directed severe criticism at the failings of the Protestant church also and
feared God’s devastating wrath if their own sin was compounded by the
‘alien sin’ of the Jews. In addition, it is an inadmissible simplification of
the complex genealogy of modern biology-inspired anti-Semitism to
claim Luther as one of its sources, let alone a leading one. The measures
he advocated in 1543 to deal with the Jews, which by our standards are
inhuman, were intended to demoralize them and possibly cause some
to convert. To his mind, however, these measures were the ‘worse’ solu-
tion; in his view the best would have been to expel the Jews and resettle
them in territory ruled over by Christians’ ‘hereditary enemy’, the
Turks. Luther’s aim was not to establish a ‘racially pure’ state, but a reli-
giously homogeneous society of Christians that did not tolerate any
religious dissent.
What is evident is that Protestant theologians with Nazi sympathies
or ‘lay people’ with a Lutheran background were not only among those
who made the reformer out to be complicit in the most gruesome
crimes in human history but were primarily responsible for doing so.
Admittedly, the really ‘tragic’ aspect of this is precisely that Luther’s
own writings, his repellent, hate-filled tirades against the Jews, made the
task easy. Luther is no more a simple ‘victim’ in this process than he
deserved to be in the dock at Nuremberg.
Luther’s hatred of the Jews, his bitterness over their alleged
­blasphemies against Christ, his fear of their secret activities and their
‘sucking dry’ the defenceless people who took loans from them, his
anxiety that by tolerating them he would be complicit in their blas-
phemy (a crime punishable by death in Luther’s day) and equally deserv-
ing of the wrath God would pour down on them: these things can be

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understood only within the context of the mentality and cultural envir-
onment of the sixteenth century.
The aim of this book is therefore to understand Luther’s attitude to
the Jews against the background of his age, which means to view it in
the light of what was normal at the time. I shall devote particular atten-
tion also to the character and status of his pronouncements and their
intended audience; it is of central relevance to be clear about the specific
context in which Luther made any given statement. For that reason,
I seek to distinguish more clearly the types of text and types of commu-
nication he used when speaking about the Jews than ‘Luther scholars’
often do. Bearing in mind the methods and emphases I have indicated,
the reader has the opportunity to decide whether and how far Luther’s
position, which changed radically between 1523 and 1543, deserves to be
called extreme, even judging by the standards of the sixteenth century.
The book’s title Luther’s Jews was chosen with the following consider-
ations in mind. Although ‘Luther and the Jews’ would have sounded
more usual—the linking word ‘and’ combined with the definite article
creates distance and suggests objectivity—it is important to make clear
from the outset that when Luther’s subject is ‘Jews’ there is nothing
objective about it; he is in no way referring to something distinct and
unambiguous. Luther’s Jews are a conglomerate of ill-defined fears, cal-
culated publishing projects, and targeted use of biblical traditions, and
also of resentment, cultural traditions, and sheer fantasy—in other
words, a phantom. This book cannot therefore be an attempt to recon-
struct Luther’s relationship to the Jews in the sense of a personal ‘rela-
tionship’ with individual representatives of the Jewish faith of his day,
even if the few instances of his actual contact with Jews for which there
is solid biographical proof will receive due scrutiny (see Chapter 1). The
title Luther’s Jews is designed to alert the reader to the fact that this is a
serious topic because Luther took it up and gave it substance and
because the term ‘Jews’ encompassed subjects and issues he believed he
must confront and to which he therefore devoted great attention. The
view that an enquiry into ‘Luther and the Jews’ arises primarily as a
response to the twentieth-century history of Luther reception and

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in t roduc t ion

exaggerates the significance of the topic for him is inadequate. Although


it is indisputable that twentieth-century reception has given powerful
impetus to the investigation of this issue, it is nevertheless evident that
for the historical Luther the ‘Jews’ were of central importance in a var-
iety of ways, not least as a negative foil against which to set his own
teaching. The ‘Jews’ may have been almost completely absent from the
world he inhabited, but they are omnipresent in the writings produced
by that world.
Luther’s fear and hatred of the Jews were of their time, but the fact
that this circumstance has not proved a barrier to their being taken up
in the twentieth century is fundamentally linked to the deeply rooted
tendency in Protestant history to monumentalize Luther the reformer
and to appropriate his theology and quote it as being always ‘timely’ and
adaptable to the current situation. The only way forward is to accept the
truth, no doubt painful to some but theologically inescapable, that we
can no more put our faith blindly in Luther’s theology than responsible
twenty-first-century adults would voluntarily place themselves in the
hands of a sixteenth-century surgeon.
I myself translated all the Latin quotations in this book into German.
The use of inverted commas with certain terms (for example, ‘Jewish
writings’, the ‘Jewish question’, ‘free of Jews’, ‘proto-racist’) indicates
that they have ideological colourings that can be avoided if the reader is
made conscious of them.

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Chapter 1

Neighbours yet Strangers


Jews on the Fringes of Luther’s World

I n the pre-modern era Jewish life was governed by precise legal dis-
pensations that were fundamentally distinct from the conditions
under which Christians lived. The basis for the special treatment of the
Jews was their perpetual servitude (servitus judaeorum perpetua), which
arose from their ineradicable guilt in causing the death of Jesus. In the
Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation during the late Middle Ages
the legal category of ‘treasury servitude’ (Kammerknechtschaft) had been
established to link any right the Jews might be granted to exist to the
Imperial Treasury, which was entitled to levy taxes on them. In this
way their servitude, which was theological in origin, acquired the
quality of a secular jurisdiction, from which rights of protection for the
Jews were derived.
From the fourteenth century onwards it became customary for the
Imperial rights of protection for the Jews to be extended to other
authorities, such as rulers of individual states or magistrates of Free
Imperial Cities, in the form of so-called ‘Jewish prerogatives’. As states
developed greater individual sovereignty in the Early Modern period,
rights to protect the Jews became an integral part of the ruler’s powers.
Jewish taxes, which the authorities received in exchange for fixed-term
rights of residence, granting in return charters of protection, formed a
significant source of revenue.

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The toleration of the Jews, for whatever defined period, in the cities
and territories of the Empire was subject to the fluctuations of eco-
nomic conditions, which were often the source of conflict. From the
beginning of the Crusades, and in particular as a response to the out-
break of the plague in the middle of the fourteenth century, pogroms
and waves of persecution occurred that threatened Jewish life in the
Empire and in Europe generally. The Jews were made into ‘scapegoats’;
Christian society used them as a target to vent profound tensions,
primitive aggressions and a deep sense of fear.
The precarious nature of the toleration of the Jews meant that they were
in no way ‘integrated’ into the Christian world. From a social and economic
point of view they were isolated by being barred from membership of the
guilds, which defined themselves as Christian fraternities. They could not
live off the land as farmers or peasants because they were not sufficiently
rooted in it and they were usually not allowed to own it. The only possible
line of work open to them was to trade in goods or money. In many cases
their only source of income was money-lending, which the Church had
banned on the grounds of the biblical prohibition of usury (see Exodus
22, 25, Leviticus 25, 35–7, Psalm 14, 4f., Ezekiel 22, 10–12). Canon law made
it a sin for Christians to demand any interest on money given as a loan.
As providers of credit the Jews were essential to their society, while the
authorities who held the charters of protection profited from their eco-
nomic success by exacting payments. People’s dependence on Jewish
‘usurers’, which became more prevalent when failed harvests or natural
catastrophes led to critical food shortages, created constant ­suspicion
and hatred among those affected. There appeared to be ­something rep-
rehensible and parasitic about Jewish prosperity; they seemed to profit
from others’ distress. Were Jewish profiteers not in fact in league with
demonic powers fundamentally hostile to Christianity and its Saviour?
The growth of early capitalism in the later fifteenth and early s­ ixteenth
centuries led to a relaxation of the Church’s prohibition on charging
interest, which gave rise to Christian money magnates such as the

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Fuggers of Augsburg, produced a European banking system, and forced


Jewish financiers increasingly downmarket. The mendicant friars, who
were concerned for the fate of the ‘little people’, were prominent in dir-
ecting polemics against ‘Jewish usurers’. In the later Middle Ages Jewish
merchants also lost the dominant position they had once held in
­foreign trade.
Since the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215 all Jews in Catholic Europe
had been obliged to wear an emblem of identification. This practice of
stigmatizing Jews had the aim of separating the worlds of Jews and
Christians and making contact between them—in particular in the
form of marriages between Christians and Jews—more difficult or even
impossible. Even though this compulsory identification varied in form
in the individual European countries and German territories, the col-
our yellow gradually became the general marker. From the first third of
the fifteenth century yellow circles or patches had to be worn on the
front of clothing in Augsburg, Bamberg, Würzburg, Cologne, Mainz,
Trier, Fürth, Frankfurt am Main and Erfurt. In some territories and
cities in the Empire Jews had also to wear special ‘Jewish hats’ (Figure 1).
Fines were imposed for infringements of the requirement for Jews to
identify themselves; it was also possible for Jews to buy themselves
freedom from this requirement.
In some places, Worms for example, Jewish homes had to be marked.
As a rule, Jews in towns and cities lived together in particular streets
and in more or less enclosed areas. The increasing number of expul-
sions of Jews from German cities in the late Middle Ages caused an
‘exodus’ to Eastern Europe and the creation of more Jewish settlements
in the countryside; smaller territories frequently proved better and
more stable places to live. Jews quite often travelled by day to the towns
and cities to do business and returned in the evening to their village
communities. Though no Jews had been allowed to live in Strasbourg
since 1388, for example, Jewish merchants, traders, and doctors arrived
by day and went about their business overseen and accompanied by a
constable or soldier. In the evening the ‘Jews’ horn’ would sound from
the cathedral tower to mark the time for them to leave the city. Thus the

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Figure 1. ‘The Birth of Christ’ (c. 1370). Altar painting in the Augustinian Monas-
tery Church in Erfurt. As this painting hung in Luther’s monastery in Erfurt we
may assume he knew it.

Jews played a part in the social and economic relations between city
and country.
There were frequently lively comings and goings between individual
Jewish communities and families in different locations and information
was constantly being exchanged; people knew about each other and
took an interest in whatever was happening to their coreligionists. The
fact that Jews were not integrated into Christian society encouraged
the development of their own special sense of belonging, which was

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underpinned by the ties created by their custom of marriage within the


group. They remained throughout committed to active study of their
own literary traditions and sacred texts—in addition to the Hebrew
Bible these were principally the Mishna, the Talmud, and the rabbinic
commentaries on them; this enabled them to move in a variety of lan-
guage environments. They also made modest use of the possibilities of
printing using Hebrew characters. Jewish learning fed suspicion, not
least among uneducated sections of the Christian population. Their
unfamiliar language and script provided opportunities to invent stories
of the Jews’ secret magical practices. Cultural differences between the
Ashkenazy Jews of central and eastern Europe and the Sephardic Jews
of southern and western Europe played no significant role in Jewish life
in the Empire and Christians were either unaware of them or indifferent
to them.
The most important sources of ‘information’ about Jewish religious
life were the reports written by Jewish converts to Christianity. These
frequently bore the stamp of their zealous authors’ hatred of the reli-
gion they had abandoned and often tended to emphasize features of
Jewish worship that seemed particularly mysterious, shocking,
­dangerous, hostile to Christians, and blasphemous. Their aim was to
provide Christian society with arguments for the perpetual rejection
of the Jews and to warn against them. At the same time, a number of
contemporary accounts by converts, such as those by Victor von
Carben or Anton Margaritha, became important ‘ethnographic’ sources
of knowledge about Jewish customs in the Reformation period. Given
the ­relatively meagre success rate of Christians converting Jews in the
late Middle Ages, the influence of writings by Jewish converts on ‘public
opinion’ is likely to have been considerable. In the main, however, con-
verts did not repeat the accusations, highly dangerous for Jews, of
­desecrating the host, ritual murder, or poisoning wells.
The allegation that Jews poisoned wells, either directly or by means of
Christians they had suborned, in particular lepers, had originated in
France and been in general circulation since a series of plague outbreaks
in the middle of the fourteenth century. Empirical observation, however,

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Figure 2. Desecration of the host in Sternberg. Woodcut, Lübeck, 1492. Jews


plunge knives into hosts, thus inflicting renewed agony on Christ’s body.

that the plague was also rife in places where there were no Jews made this
accusation less of a threat in the course of the fifteenth century or it was
transferred to other marginalized groups such as beggars, Waldensians,
or witches.
The allegation that Jews desecrated the host (Figure 2), which belongs
in the context of the increased importance being given in worship from
the thirteenth century onwards to the bodily presence of Christ in the
sacrament, was a different matter, for here specifically anti-Jewish
­factors were dominant. The various ‘cases’ of desecration of the host
that occurred in the course of the later Middle Ages were variations on
a basic narrative model: a Jew, with or without the help of depraved
Christians, obtains a consecrated host, which he subjects to all manner

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of tortures. This causes a miraculous and unstoppable flow of blood,


which in the end exposes the evildoer and his co-conspirators. Different
versions of the story then report either a conversion miracle or a
­punishment miracle: the Jew becomes a Christian or is punished by
God. Finally, the locations of these supernatural interventions by God
in history become places of pilgrimage, where the ‘evidence’ of the mir-
acle, the host in particular, is venerated. In Wilsnack in Brandenburg, in
Sternberg in Mecklenburg, and in Deggendorf in Bavaria in the four-
teenth and fifteenth centuries centres of pilgrimage of this kind devel-
oped, drawing pilgrims from a wide area. The establishment of these
shrines was as a rule accompanied by spectacular executions of Jews,
the eradication of whole communities, and the imposition of a ban on
settlement in the towns and territories in question.
Other religious ‘mass demonstrations’ also had anti-Jewish features.
These are particularly clear in the case of the pilgrimage, beginning in
1519, to Regensburg, organized by Balthasar Hubmaier, who later became
a leading Baptist theologian. The Regensburg City Council had exploited
the Imperial interregnum after the death of Maximilian I to expel the
Jewish community, which enjoyed the protection of the Emperor, and
destroy its synagogue and the neighbouring Jewish quarter. Prompted
by this, Albrecht Altdorfer, who was a member of the External Council
of the city, made engravings of the vestibule and interior of the s­ ynagogue.
These are the oldest surviving depictions of a Jewish place of worship
and preserved it, so to speak in effigy (Figures 3 and 4). A healing miracle
attributed to the Virgin Mary, which occurred during building work,
provided a retrospective ‘divine confirmation’ of the punishment meted
out to the Jews; it was the basis for an extremely successful pilgrimage,
marked by ecstatic forms of devotion, ‘to lovely Mary’.
The most bizarre and emotionally charged allegation against the
Jews was that of ritual murder. Mainly at Passiontide Jews would be
accused of ritually murdering a Christian child, usually a boy, as they
required the blood of a Christian for their magic, religious worship, or
‘medicine’. Various anti-Semitic superstitions attached themselves to
this accusation, which spread from England to Europe from the twelfth

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Figure 3. Entrance to the Regensburg synagogue. Engraving by Albrecht Alt-


dorfer, 1519.

century onwards. It was claimed that the Jews used the blood to remove
the horns their children were born with; that they used it to mask their
pungent smell; that they baked their matzah with it. Confessions,
extracted by torture, spread like wildfire, as in the case of the ritual
murder trial in Trento in 1475 (Figure 5), and provoked comparable inci-
dents, accompanied by pogroms or other acts of violence against Jewish

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Figure 4. Interior of the Regensburg synagogue. Engraving by Albrecht


­Altdorfer, 1519.

communities, in many parts of Europe. The murdered Christian


­children were elevated to sainthood, with or without papal approval,
and the cults surrounding them kept alive the memory of the ‘baseness’
and ‘perfidy’ of the ‘Jewish race’.
Even though the worlds of the Christian majority and the Jewish
minority overlapped at many points, particularly in the Empire, and it

20
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III. Dollars

A
ll along the rails there were faces; in the
portholes there were faces. Leeward a
stale smell came from the tubby
steamer that rode at anchor listed a little to
one side with the yellow quarantine flag
drooping at the foremast.
“I’d give a million dollars,” said the old
man resting on his oars, “to know what they
come for.”
“Just for that pop,” said the young man
who sat in the stern. “Aint it the land of
opportoonity?”
“One thing I do know,” said the old man.
“When I was a boy it was wild Irish came in
the spring with the first run of shad.... Now
there aint no more shad, an them folks, Lord
knows where they come from.”
“It’s the land of opportoonity.”

A
leanfaced young man with steel eyes and a thin highbridged
nose sat back in a swivel chair with his feet on his new
mahogany-finish desk. His skin was sallow, his lips gently
pouting. He wriggled in the swivel chair watching the little scratches
his shoes were making on the veneer. Damn it I dont care. Then he
sat up suddenly making the swivel shriek and banged on his knee
with his clenched fist. “Results,” he shouted. Three months I’ve sat
rubbing my tail on this swivel chair.... What’s the use of going
through lawschool and being admitted to the bar if you cant find
anybody to practice on? He frowned at the gold lettering through the
groundglass door.
NIWDLAB EGROEG
waL-tA-yenrottA
Niwdlab, Welsh. He jumped to his feet. I’ve read that damn sign
backwards every day for three months. I’m going crazy. I’ll go out
and eat lunch.
He straightened his vest and brushed some flecks of dust off his
shoes with a handkerchief, then, contracting his face into an
expression of intense preoccupation, he hurried out of his office,
trotted down the stairs and out onto Maiden Lane. In front of the
chophouse he saw the headline on a pink extra; Japs Thrown Back
From Mukden. He bought the paper and folded it under his arm as
he went in through the swinging door. He took a table and pored
over the bill of fare. Mustn’t be extravagant now. “Waiter you can
bring me a New England boiled dinner, a slice of applepie and
coffee.” The longnosed waiter wrote the order on his slip looking at it
sideways with a careful frown.... That’s the lunch for a lawyer without
any practice. Baldwin cleared his throat and unfolded the paper....
Ought to liven up the Russian bonds a bit. Veterans Visit
President.... Another Accident on Eleventh Avenue Tracks.
Milkman seriously injured. Hello, that’d make a neat little damage
suit.
Augustus McNiel, 253 W. 4th Street, who drives a
milkwagon for the Excelsior Dairy Co. was severely injured
early this morning when a freight train backing down the New
York Central tracks ...
He ought to sue the railroad. By gum I ought to get hold of that
man and make him sue the railroad.... Not yet recovered
consciousness.... Maybe he’s dead. Then his wife can sue them all
the more.... I’ll go to the hospital this very afternoon.... Get in ahead
of any of these shysters. He took a determined bite of bread and
chewed it vigorously. Of course not; I’ll go to the house and see if
there isn’t a wife or mother or something: Forgive me Mrs. McNiel if I
intrude upon your deep affliction, but I am engaged in an
investigation at this moment.... Yes, retained by prominent
interests.... He drank up the last of the coffee and paid the bill.
Repeating 253 W. 4th Street over and over he boarded an uptown
car on Broadway. Walking west along 4th he skirted Washington
Square. The trees spread branches of brittle purple into a
dovecolored sky; the largewindowed houses opposite glowed very
pink, nonchalant, prosperous. The very place for a lawyer with a
large conservative practice to make his residence. We’ll just see
about that. He crossed Sixth Avenue and followed the street into the
dingy West Side, where there was a smell of stables and the
sidewalks were littered with scraps of garbage and crawling children.
Imagine living down here among low Irish and foreigners, the scum
of the universe. At 253 there were several unmarked bells. A woman
with gingham sleeves rolled up on sausageshaped arms stuck a
gray mophead out the window.
“Can you tell me if Augustus McNiel lives here?”
“Him that’s up there alayin in horspital. Sure he does.”
“That’s it. And has he any relatives living here?”
“An what would you be wantin wid ’em?”
“It’s a little matter of business.”
“Go up to the top floor an you’ll foind his wife there but most likely
she cant see yez.... The poor thing’s powerful wrought up about her
husband, an them only eighteen months married.”
The stairs were tracked with muddy footprints and sprinkled here
and there with the spilling of ashcans. At the top he found a
freshpainted darkgreen door and knocked.
“Who’s there?” came a girl’s voice that sent a little shiver through
him. Must be young.
“Is Mrs. McNiel in?”
“Yes,” came the lilting girl’s voice again. “What is it?”
“It’s a matter of business about Mr. McNiel’s accident.”
“About the accident is it?” The door opened in little cautious jerks.
She had a sharpcut pearlywhite nose and chin and a pile of wavy
redbrown hair that lay in little flat curls round her high narrow
forehead. Gray eyes sharp and suspicious looked him hard in the
face.
“May I speak to you a minute about Mr. McNiel’s accident? There
are certain legal points involved that I feel it my duty to make known
to you.... By the way I hope he’s better.”
“Oh yes he’s come to.”
“May I come in? It’s a little long to explain.”
“I guess you can.” Her pouting lips flattened into a wry smile. “I
guess you wont eat me.”
“No honestly I wont.” He laughed nervously in his throat.
She led the way into the darkened sitting room. “I’m not pulling up
the shades so’s you wont see the pickle everythin’s in.”
“Allow me to introduce myself, Mrs. McNiel.... George Baldwin, 88
Maiden Lane.... You see I make a specialty of cases like this.... To
put the whole matter in a nutshell.... Your husband was run down
and nearly killed through the culpable or possibly criminal negligence
of the employees of the New York Central Railroad. There is full and
ample cause for a suit against the railroad. Now I have reason to
believe that the Excelsior Dairy Company will bring suit for the losses
incurred, horse and wagon etcetera....”
“You mean you think Gus is more likely to get damages himself?”
“Exactly.”
“How much do you think he could get?”
“Why that depends on how badly hurt he is, on the attitude of the
court, and perhaps on the skill of the lawyer.... I think ten thousand
dollars is a conservative figure.”
“And you dont ask no money down?”
“The lawyer’s fee is rarely paid until the case is brought to a
successful termination.”
“An you’re a lawyer, honest? You look kinder young to be a
lawyer.”
The gray eyes flashed in his. They both laughed. He felt a warm
inexplicable flush go through him.
“I’m a lawyer all the same. I make a specialty of cases like these.
Why only last Tuesday I got six thousand dollars for a client who was
kicked by a relay horse riding on the loop.... Just at this moment as
you may know there is considerable agitation for revoking altogether
the franchise of the Eleventh Avenue tracks.... I think this is a most
favorable moment.”
“Say do you always talk like that, or is it just business?”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Poor old Gus, I always said he had a streak of luck in him.”
The wail of a child crept thinly through the partition into the room.
“What’s that?”
“It’s only the baby.... The little wretch dont do nothin but squall.”
“So you’ve got children Mrs. McNiel?” The thought chilled him
somehow.
“Juss one ... what kin ye expect?”
“Is it the Emergency Hospital?”
“Yes I reckon they’ll let you see him as it’s a matter of business.
He’s groanin somethin dreadful.”
“Now if I could get a few good witnesses.”
“Mike Doheny seen it all.... He’s on the force. He’s a good frien of
Gus’s.”
“By gad we’ve got a case and a half.... Why they’ll settle out of
court.... I’ll go right up to the hospital.”
A fresh volley of wails came from the other room.
“Oh, that brat,” she whispered, screwing up her face. “We could
use the money all right Mr. Baldwin....”
“Well I must go.” He picked up his hat. “And I certainly will do my
best in this case. May I come by and report progress to you from
time to time?”
“I hope you will.”
When they shook hands at the door he couldn’t seem to let go her
hand. She blushed.
“Well goodby and thank you very much for callin,” she said stiffly.
Baldwin staggered dizzily down the stairs. His head was full of
blood. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life. Outside it had
begun to snow. The snowflakes were cold furtive caresses to his hot
cheeks.
The sky over the Park was mottled with little tiptailed clouds like a
field of white chickens.
“Look Alice, lets us go down this little path.”
“But Ellen, my dad told me to come straight home from school.”
“Scarecat!”
“But Ellen those dreadful kidnappers....”
“I told you not to call me Ellen any more.”
“Well Elaine then, Elaine the lily maid of Astalot.”
Ellen had on her new Black Watch plaid dress. Alice wore glasses
and had legs thin as hairpins.
“Scarecat!”
“They’re dreadful men sitting on that bench. Come along Elaine
the fair, let’s go home.”
“I’m not scared of them. I could fly like Peter Pan if I wanted to.”
“Why dont you do it?”
“I dont want to just now.”
Alice began to whimper. “Oh Ellen I think you’re mean.... Come
along home Elaine.”
“No I’m going for a walk in the Park.”
Ellen started down the steps. Alice stood a minute on the top step
balancing first on one foot then on the other.
“Scaredy scaredy scarecat!” yelled Ellen.
Alice ran off blubbering. “I’m goin to tell your mommer.”
Ellen walked down the asphalt path among the shrubbery kicking
her toes in the air.
Ellen in her new dress of Black Watch plaid mummy’d bought at
Hearn’s walked down the asphalt path kicking her toes in the air.
There was a silver thistle brooch on the shoulder of the new dress of
Black Watch plaid mummy’d bought at Hearn’s. Elaine of
Lammermoor was going to be married. The Betrothed. Wangnaan
nainainai, went the bagpipes going through the rye. The man on the
bench has a patch over his eye. A watching black patch. A black
watching patch. The kidnapper of the Black Watch, among the
rustling shrubs kidnappers keep their Black Watch. Ellen’s toes dont
kick in the air. Ellen is terribly scared of the kidnapper of the Black
Watch, big smelly man of the Black Watch with a patch over his eye.
She’s scared to run. Her heavy feet scrape on the asphalt as she
tries to run fast down the path. She’s scared to turn her head. The
kidnapper of the Black Watch is right behind. When I get to the
lamppost I’ll run as far as the nurse and the baby, when I get to the
nurse and the baby I’ll run as far as the big tree, when I get to the big
tree.... Oh I’m so tired.... I’ll run out onto Central Park West and
down the street home. She was scared to turn round. She ran with a
stitch in her side. She ran till her mouth tasted like pennies.
“What are you running for Ellie?” asked Gloria Drayton who was
skipping rope outside the Norelands.
“Because I wanted to,” panted Ellen.
Winey afterglow stained the muslin curtains and filtered into the
blue gloom of the room. They stood on either side of the table. Out of
a pot of narcissus still wrapped in tissue paper starshaped flowers
gleamed with dim phosphorescence, giving off a damp earthsmell
enmeshed in indolent prickly perfume.
“It was nice of you to bring me these Mr. Baldwin. I’ll take them up
to Gus at the hospital tomorrow.”
“For God’s sake dont call me that.”
“But I dont like the name of George.”
“I dont care, I like your name, Nellie.”
He stood looking at her; perfumed weights coiled about his arms.
His hands dangled like empty gloves. Her eyes were black, dilating,
her lips pouting towards him across the flowers. She jerked her
hands up to cover her face. His arm was round her little thin
shoulders.
“But honest Georgy, we’ve got to be careful. You mustn’t come
here so often. I dont want all the old hens in the house to start
talkin.”
“Dont worry about that.... We mustn’t worry about anything.”
“I’ve been actin’ like I was crazy this last week.... I’ve got to quit.”
“You dont think I’ve been acting naturally, do you? I swear to God
Nellie I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not that kind of a
person.”
She showed her even teeth in a laugh. “Oh you kin never tell
about men.”
“But if it weren’t something extraordinary and exceptional you
dont think I’d be running after you this way do you? I’ve never been
in love with anybody but you Nellie.”
“That’s a good one.”
“But it’s true.... I’ve never gone in for that sort of thing. I’ve worked
too hard getting through lawschool and all that to have time for girls.”
“Makin up for lost time I should say.”
“Oh Nellie dont talk like that.”
“But honestly Georgy I’ve got to cut this stuff out. What’ll we do
when Gus comes out of the hospital? An I’m neglectin the kid an
everythin.”
“Christ I dont care what happens.... Oh Nellie.” He pulled her face
round. They clung to each other swaying, mouths furiously mingling.
“Look out we almost had the lamp over.”
“God you’re wonderful, Nellie.” Her head had dropped on his
chest, he could feel the pungence of her tumbled hair all through
him. It was dark. Snakes of light from the streetlamp wound greenly
about them. Her eyes looked up into his frighteningly solemnly black.
“Look Nellie lets go in the other room,” he whispered in a tiny
trembling voice.
“Baby’s in there.”
They stood apart with cold hands looking at each other. “Come
here an help me. I’ll move the cradle in here.... Careful not to wake
her or she’ll bawl her head off.” Her voice crackled huskily.
The baby was asleep, her little rubbery face tight closed, minute
pink fists clenched on the coverlet.
“She looks happy,” he said with a forced titter.
“Keep quiet cant you.... Here take yer shoes off.... There’s been
enough trampin o men’s shoes up here.... Georgy I wouldn’t do this,
but I juss cant help....”
He fumbled for her in the dark. “You darling....” Clumsy he
brooded over her, breathing crazily deep.

“Flatfoot you’re stringin us....”


“I aint, honest I’d swear by me muder’s grave it’s de trutt....
Latitude toityseven soutt by twelve west.... You go dere an see.... On
dat island we made in de second officer’s boat when de Elliot P.
Simkins foundered der was four males and fortyseven females
includin women an children. Waren’t it me dat tole de reporter guy all
about it an it came out in all de Sunday papers?”
“But Flatfoot how the hell did they ever get you away from there?”
“Dey carried me off on a stretcher or I’m a cockeyed lyer. I’ll be a
sonofabitch if I warnt founderin, goin down by de bows like de ole
Elliot P.”
Heads tossed back on thick necks let out volleys of laughter,
glasses were banged on the round ringmarked table, thighs
resounded with slaps, elbows were poked into ribs.
“An how many guys was in de boat?”
“Six includin Mr. Dorkins de second officer.”
“Seven and four makes eleven.... Jez.... Four an three-elevenths
broads per capita.... Some island.”
“When does the next ferry leave?”
“Better have another drink on that.... Hay Charlie fill ’em up.”
Emile pulled at Congo’s elbow. “Come outside a sec. J’ai
que’quechose a te dire.” Congo’s eyes were wet, he staggered a
little as he followed Emile into the outer bar. “O le p’tit mysterieux.”
“Look here, I’ve got to go call on a lady friend.”
“Oh that’s what’s eating you is it? I always said you was a wise
guy Emile.”
“Look, here’s my address on a piece of paper in case you forget it:
945 West 22nd. You can come and sleep there if you’re not too
pickled, and dont you bring any friends or women or anything. I’m in
right with the landlady and I dont want to spoil it.... Tu comprends.”
“But I wanted you to come on a swell party.... Faut faire un peu la
noce, nom de dieu!...”
“I got to work in the morning.”
“But I got eight months’ pay in my pocket....
“Anyway come round tomorrow at about six. I’ll wait for you.”
“Tu m’emmerdes tu sais avec tes manières;” Congo aimed a jet of
saliva at the spittoon in the corner of the bar and turned back
frowning into the inside room.
“Hay dere sit down Congo; Barney’s goin to sing de Bastard King
of England.”
Emile jumped on a streetcar and rode uptown. At Eighteenth
Street he got off and walked west to Eighth Avenue. Two doors from
the corner was a small store. Over one window was Confiserie,
over the other Delicatessen. In the middle of the glass door white
enamel letters read Emile Rigaud, High Class Table Dainties. Emile
went in. The bell jangled on the door. A dark stout woman with black
hairs over the corners of her mouth was drowsing behind the
counter. Emile took off his hat. “Bonsoir Madame Rigaud.” She
looked up with a start, then showed two dimples in a profound smile.
“Tieng c’est comma ça qu’ong oublie ses ami-es,” she said in a
booming Bordelais voice. “Here’s a week that I say to myself,
Monsieur Loustec is forgetting his friends.”
“I never have any time any more.”
“Lots of work, lots of money, heing?” When she laughed her
shoulders shook and the big breasts under the tight blue bodice.
Emile screwed up one eye. “Might be worse.... But I’m sick of
waiting.... It’s so tiring; nobody regards a waiter.”
“You are a man of ambition, Monsieur Loustec.”
“Que voulez vous?” He blushed, and said timidly “My name’s
Emile.”
Mme. Rigaud rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. “That was my
dead husband’s name. I’m used to that name.” She sighed heavily.
“And how’s business?”
“Comma ci comma ça.... Ham’s gone up again.”
“It’s the Chicago ring’s doing that.... A corner in pork, that’s the
way to make money.”
Emile found Mme. Rigaud’s bulgy black eyes probing his. “I
enjoyed your singing so last time.... I’ve thought of it often.... Music
does one good dont it?” Mme. Rigaud’s dimples stretched and
stretched as she smiled. “My poor husband had no ear.... That gave
me a great deal of pain.”
“Couldn’t you sing me something this evening?”
“If you want me to, Emile?... But there is nobody to wait on
customers.”
“I’ll run in when we hear the bell, if you will permit me.”
“Very well.... I’ve learned a new American song ... C’est chic vous
savez.”
Mme. Rigaud locked the till with a key from the bunch that hung at
her belt and went through the glass door in the back of the shop.
Emile followed with his hat in his hand.
“Give me your hat Emile.”
“Oh dont trouble yourself.”
The room beyond was a little parlor with yellow flowered
wallpaper, old salmon pink portières and, under the gas-bracket from
which hung a bunch of crystals, a piano with photographs on it. The
pianostool creaked when Mme. Rigaud sat down. She ran her
fingers over the keys. Emile sat carefully on the very edge of the
chair beside the piano with his hat on his knees and pushed his face
forward so that as she played she could see it out of the corner of
her eye tilted up towards hers. Madame Rigaud began to sing:
Just a birrd in a geelded cage
A beauteeful sight to see
You’d tink se vas ’appee
And free from all care
Se’s not zo se seems to be....
The bell on the door of the shop jangled loud.
“Permettez,” cried Emile running out.
“Half a pound o bolony sausage sliced,” said a little girl with
pigtails. Emile passed the knife across the palm of his hand and
sliced the sausage carefully. He tiptoed back into the parlor and put
the money on the edge of the piano. Madame Rigaud was still
singing:
Tis sad ven you tink of a vasted life
For yout cannot mate vit age
Beautee vas soooold
For an old man’s gooold
Se’s a birrd in a geelded cage.
Bud stood on the corner of West Broadway and Franklin Street
eating peanuts out of a bag. It was noon and his money was all
gone. The Elevated thundered overhead. Dustmotes danced before
his eyes in the girderstriped sunlight. Wondering which way to go he
spelled out the names of the streets for the third time. A black shiny
cab drawn by two black shinyrumped horses turned the corner sharp
in front of him with a rasp on the cobblestones of red shiny wheels
suddenly braked. There was a yellow leather trunk on the seat
beside the driver. In the cab a man in a brown derby talked loud to a
woman with a gray feather boa round her neck and gray ostrich
plumes in her hat. The man jerked a revolver up to his mouth. The
horses reared and plunged in the middle of a shoving crowd.
Policemen elbowing through. They had the man out on the
curbstone vomiting blood, head hanging limp over his checked vest.
The woman stood tall and white beside him twisting her feather boa
in her hands, the gray plumes in her hat nodding in the striped
sunlight under the elevated.
“His wife was taking him to Europe.... The Deutschland sailing at
twelve. I’d said goodby to him forever. He was sailing on the
Deutschland at twelve. He’d said goodby to me forever.”
“Git oute de way dere;” a cop jabbed Bud in the stomach with his
elbow. His knees trembled. He got to the edge of the crowd and
walked away trembling. Mechanically he shelled a peanut and put it
in his mouth. Better save the rest till evenin. He twisted the mouth of
the bag and dropped it into his pocket.

Under the arclight that spluttered pink and green-edged violet the
man in the checked suit passed two girls. The full-lipped oval face of
the girl nearest to him; her eyes were like a knifethrust. He walked a
few paces then turned and followed them fingering his new satin
necktie. He made sure the horseshoe diamond pin was firm in its
place. He passed them again. Her face was turned away. Maybe she
was.... No he couldn’t tell. Good luck he had fifty dollars on him. He
sat on a bench and let them pass him. Wouldnt do to make a
mistake and get arrested. They didnt notice him. He followed them
down the path and out of the Park. His heart was pounding. I’d give
a million dollars for ... Pray pardon me, isn’t this Miss Anderson? The
girls walked fast. In the crowd crossing Columbus Circle he lost sight
of them. He hurried down Broadway block after block. The full lips,
the eyes like the thrust of a knife. He stared in girls’ faces right and
left. Where could she have gone? He hurried on down Broadway.
Ellen was sitting beside her father on a bench at the Battery. She
was looking at her new brown button shoes. A glint of sunlight
caught on the toes and on each of the little round buttons when she
swung her feet out from under the shadow of her dress.
“Think how it’d be,” Ed Thatcher was saying, “to go abroad on one
of those liners. Imagine crossing the great Atlantic in seven days.”
“But daddy what do people do all that time on a boat?”
“I dunno ... I suppose they walk round the deck and play cards
and read and all that sort of thing. Then they have dances.”
“Dances on a boat! I should think it’d be awful tippy.” Ellen
giggled.
“On the big modern liners they do.”
“Daddy why dont we go?”
“Maybe we will some day if I can save up the money.”
“Oh daddy do hurry up an save a lot of money. Alice Vaughan’s
mother an father go to the White Mountains every summer, but next
summer they’re going abroad.”
Ed Thatcher looked out across the bay that stretched in blue
sparkling reaches into the brown haze towards the Narrows. The
statue of Liberty stood up vague as a sleepwalker among the curling
smoke of tugboats and the masts of schooners and the blunt
lumbering masses of brickbarges and sandscows. Here and there
the glary sun shone out white on a sail or on the superstructure of a
steamer. Red ferryboats shuttled back and forth.
“Daddy why arent we rich?”
“There are lots of people poorer than us Ellie.... You wouldn’t like
your daddy any better if he were rich would you?”
“Oh yes I would daddy.”
Thatcher laughed. “Well it might happen someday.... How would
you like the firm of Edward C. Thatcher and Co., Certified
Accountants?”
Ellen jumped to her feet: “Oh look at that big boat.... That’s the
boat I want to go on.”
“That there’s the Harabic,” croaked a cockney voice beside them.
“Oh is it really?” said Thatcher.
“Indeed it is, sir; as fahne a ship as syles the sea sir,” explained
eagerly a frayed creakyvoiced man who sat on the bench beside
them. A cap with a broken patentleather visor was pulled down over
a little peaked face that exuded a faded smell of whiskey. “Yes sir,
the Harabic sir.”
“Looks like a good big boat that does.”
“One of the biggest afloat sir. I syled on er many’s the tahme and
on the Majestic and the Teutonic too sir, fahne ships both, though a
bit light’eaded in a sea as you might say. I’ve signed as steward on
the Hinman and White Star lahnes these thirty years and now in me
old age they’ve lyed me hoff.”
“Oh well, we all have hard luck sometimes.”
“And some of us as it hall the tahme sir.... I’d be a appy man sir, if
I could get back to the old country. This arent any plyce for an old
man, it’s for the young and strong, this is.” He drew a gout-twisted
hand across the bay and pointed to the statue. “Look at er, she’s
alookin towards Hengland she is.”
“Daddy let’s go away. I dont like this man,” whispered Ellen
tremulously in her father’s ear.
“All right we’ll go and take a look at the sealions.... Good day.”
“You couldn’t fahnd me the price of a cup o coffee, could you now
sir? I’m fair foundered.” Thatcher put a dime in the grimy knobbed
hand.
“But daddy, mummy said never to let people speak to you in the
street an to call a policeman if they did an to run away as fast as you
could on account of those horrible kidnappers.”
“No danger of their kidnapping me Ellie. That’s just for little girls.”
“When I grow up will I be able to talk to people on the street like
that?”
“No deary you certainly will not.”
“If I’d been a boy could I?”
“I guess you could.”
In front of the Aquarium they stopped a minute to look down the
bay. The liner with a tug puffing white smoke against either bow was
abreast of them towering above the ferryboats and harborcraft. Gulls
wheeled and screamed. The sun shone creamily on the upper decks
and on the big yellow blackcapped funnel. From the foremast a
string of little flags fluttered jauntily against the slate sky.
“And there are lots of people coming over from abroad on that
boat arent there daddy?”
“Look you can see ... the decks are black with people.”

Walking across Fiftythird Street from the East River Bud


Korpenning found himself standing beside a pile of coal on the
sidewalk. On the other side of the pile of coal a grayhaired woman in
a flounced lace shirtwaist with a big pink cameo poised on the curve
of her high bosom was looking at his stubbly chin and at the wrists
that hung raw below the frayed sleeves of his coat. Then he heard
himself speak:
“Dont spose I could take that load of coal in back for you ma’am?”
Bud shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“That’s just what you could do,” the woman said in a cracked
voice. “That wretched coal man left it this morning and said he’d be
back to bring it in. I suppose he’s drunk like the rest of them. I
wonder if I can trust you in the house.”
“I’m from upstate ma’am,” stammered Bud.
“From where?”
“From Cooperstown.”
“Hum.... I’m from Buffalo. This is certainly the city for everyone
being from somewhere else.... Well you’re probably a burglar’s
accomplice, but I cant help it I’ve got to have that coal in.... Come in
my man, I’ll give you a shovel and a basket and if you dont drop any
in the passage or on the kitchen floor, because the scrubwoman’s
just left ... naturally the coal had to come when the floor was clean....
I’ll give you a dollar.”
When he carried in the first load she was hovering in the kitchen.
His caving hungersniff stomach made him totter lightheadedly, but he
was happy to be working instead of dragging his feet endlessly along
pavements, across streets, dodging drays and carts and streetcars.
“How is it you haven’t got a regular job my man,” she asked as he
came back breathless with the empty basket.
“I reckon it’s as I aint caught on to city ways yet. I was born an
raised on a farm.”
“And what did you want to come to this horrible city for?”
“Couldn’t stay on the farm no more.”
“It’s terrible what’s going to become of this country if all the fine
strong young men leave the farms and come into the cities.”
“Thought I could git a work as a longshoreman, ma’am, but
they’re layin’ men off down on the wharves. Mebbe I kin go to sea as
a sailor but nobody wants a green hand.... I aint et for two days now.”
“How terrible.... Why you poor man couldn’t you have gone to
some mission or something?”
When Bud had brought the last load in he found a plate of cold
stew on the corner of the kitchen table, half a loaf of stale bread and
a glass of milk that was a little sour. He ate quickly barely chewing
and put the last of the stale bread in his pocket.
“Well did you enjoy your little lunch?”
“Thankye ma’am.” He nodded with his mouth full.
“Well you can go now and thank you very much.” She put a
quarter into his hand. Bud blinked at the quarter in the palm of his
hand.
“But ma’am you said you’d give me a dollar.”
“I never said any such thing. The idea.... I’ll call my husband if you
dont get out of here immediately. In fact I’ve a great mind to notify
the police as it is....”
Without a word Bud pocketed the quarter and shuffled out.
“Such ingratitude,” he heard the woman snort as he closed the
door behind him.
A cramp was tying knots in his stomach. He turned east again
and walked the long blocks to the river with his fists pressed tight in
under his ribs. At any moment he expected to throw up. If I lose it it
wont do me no good. When he got to the end of the street he lay
down on the gray rubbish slide beside the wharf. A smell of hops
seeped gruelly and sweet out of the humming brewery behind him.
The light of the sunset flamed in the windows of factories on the
Long Island side, flashed in the portholes of tugs, lay in swaths of
curling yellow and orange over the swift browngreen water, glowed
on the curved sails of a schooner that was slowly bucking the tide up
into Hell Gate. Inside him the pain was less. Something flamed and
glowed like the sunset seeping through his body. He sat up. Thank
Gawd I aint agoin to lose it.

On deck it’s damp and shivery in the dawn. The ship’s rail is wet
when you put your hand on it. The brown harborwater smells of
washbasins, rustles gently against the steamer’s sides. Sailors are
taking the hatches off the hold. There’s a rattle of chains and a
clatter from the donkeyengine where a tall man in blue overalls
stands at a lever in the middle of a cloud of steam that wraps round
your face like a wet towel.
“Muddy is it really the Fourth of July?”
Mother’s hand has grasped his firmly trailing him down the
companionway into the dining saloon. Stewards are piling up
baggage at the foot of the stairs.
“Muddy is it really the Fourth of July?”
“Yes deary I’m afraid it is.... A holiday is a dreadful time to arrive.
Still I guess they’ll all be down to meet us.”
She has her blue serge on and a long trailing brown veil and the
little brown animal with red eyes and teeth that are real teeth round
her neck. A smell of mothballs comes from it, of unpacking trunks, of
wardrobes littered with tissuepaper. It’s hot in the dining saloon, the
engines sob soothingly behind the bulkhead. His head nods over his
cup of hot milk just colored with coffee. Three bells. His head snaps
up with a start. The dishes tinkle and the coffee spills with the
trembling of the ship. Then a thud and rattle of anchorchains and
gradually quiet. Muddy gets up to look through the porthole.
“Why it’s going to be a fine day after all. I think the sun will burn
through the mist.... Think of it dear; home at last. This is where you
were born deary.”
“And it’s the Fourth of July.”
“Worst luck.... Now Jimmy you must promise me to stay on the
promenade deck and be very careful. Mother has to finish packing.
Promise me you wont get into any mischief.”
“I promise.”
He catches his toe on the brass threshold of the smokingroom
door and sprawls on deck, gets up rubbing his bare knee just in time
to see the sun break through chocolate clouds and swash a red
stream of brightness over the putty-colored water. Billy with the
freckles on his ears whose people are for Roosevelt instead of for
Parker like mother is waving a silk flag the size of a handkerchief at
the men on a yellow and white tugboat.
“Didjer see the sun rise?” he asks as if he owned it.
“You bet I saw it from my porthole,” says Jimmy walking away
after a lingering look at the silk flag. There’s land close on the other
side; nearest a green bank with trees and wide white grayroofed
houses.
“Well young feller, how does it feel to be home?” asks the tweedy
gentleman with droopy mustaches.
“Is that way New York?” Jimmy points out over the still water
broadening in the sunlight.
“Yessiree-bobby, behind yonder bank of fog lies Manhattan.”
“Please sir what’s that?”
“That’s New York.... You see New York is on Manhattan Island.”

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