by Leo Ruickbie
It was out of frustration with the fact that there was no biography of Faustus, as such, that this book was born. So much of the existing literature was hard to find, in foreign languages, or written for specialist audiences; the information was scattered and the interpretations of it conflicting. It took years to go through it all and still there were so many questions left unanswered, so many possibilities unexamined, and the entire context of his complex life unexplored. Behind a cage of other peoples’ words I sensed an unquiet and discontented spirit move. Bars of prejudice and locks forged in ignorance had too long kept the truth from us. It was time to let the real Faustus out.
2
Born of the Devil (1466)
He appeared in 1507. Without warning he walked into the pages of history, already infamous and condemned, already a legend. We do not know with absolute certainty where or when he was born, died, or went in between those two dates. Scholarly arguments have even been put forward to prove that he did not exist at all and today many people believe that he was entirely the figment of Goethe’s imagination.1 But they would be wrong. Before there was the legend, there was a man called Faustus.
A miraculous birth is the beginning of every great spiritual career. Whilst virgin-births were common in antiquity, who else but Faustus could be thought to have been born in several places at once and at different times as well? It is no more than the confusion of the past, but out of such things arise great myths.
Sometime in the late fifteenth century, somewhere in the fractured rivalry of the Germany of that time, a man was born who would challenge Merlin, Simon Magus, and perhaps even King Solomon himself to the exalted and accursed crown of magic. We think of him now as Johannes Faust, or just simply Dr Faust, but the first written reference, a letter dated 1507, called him ‘Magister Georgius Sabellicus Faustus Junior’. Throughout the sixteenth century the man we tend to think of as Faust was called Faustus by his contemporaries and near-contemporaries.2
Is there a difference between Faust and Faustus? Faust is a German surname and there are people to this day who bear it. Although Faustus is also an historically recorded surname, it has generally been assumed that Faustus is simply a Latinised form of Faust. Latinised names were highly fashionable among Humanist scholars and other educated people of the sixteenth century.
If Georgius had really wanted to Latinise the German surname Faust – which means ‘fist’ in English – he would have added more than just a suffix and translated the whole name into pugnus, the Latin for ‘fist’. It has also been suggested that the name Faustus is a reference to Knittlingen – a contender for his place of birth. Knittlingen comes from Knittel (Knüttel, modern Knüppel), a club, which, via the Latin fustis, is supposed to give ‘Faustus’, but ‘Fustis’ itself would be more obvious if this was indeed meant. There is also a persistent and false rumour that Faustus was the printer Johannes Fust (d.1466). Hadrianus Junius (Adrien de Jonghe, 1511–1570) first suggested the connection and it still occasionally resurfaces. Apart from having a different first name, Fust also died long before the magician ‘Faustus’ appeared in the historical record.
In Latin faustus means fortunate or auspicious, which makes it an apt name for a fortune-teller. But there are lots of good epithets to choose from; why should anyone choose this one? The clue lies in the fact that Faustus called himself Faustus Junior. If he wanted to be known as the ‘Fortunate’ he would hardly have called himself ‘Fortunate Junior’. To whom, then, was he acknowledging seniority and why?
We have no reliable evidence that there was an actual relative of Faustus practising magic in Germany before 1507 or after. Of course, just because we cannot find him does not mean that he did not exist, but it does reduce the likelihood. The more plausible explanation is that ‘Faustus Junior’ was not so much a name as part of a job description, making deference to another sort of predecessor going by the same name.
It is in ancient Rome that we find the earliest recorded usages of the name ‘Faustus’. There was a goddess called Faustitas – a name derived from Faustus – who protected the fields and ensured a good harvest, and there were at least three families going by the name of Faustus. One appeared to die out within a generation, the other was high-ranking but unremarkable, only the third, from the time of the Emperor Nero, holds out any promise.
The family comes to light in the fourth century CE writings attributed to Clement of Rome (d. c.98 CE).3 It was popularised in Germany in two medieval retellings of the Simon Magus story that would have still been well-known in Faustus’s day.4 There are conflicting accounts of who Simon Magus was, but he is generally described as a sorcerer of Samaria, converted to Christianity by Philip. He gave the word ‘simony’– the buying or selling of ecclesiastical preferment – to the English language by his alleged request to buy the power to impart the Holy Ghost from the Apostles and was reprimanded by Peter (Acts 8:5–24). According to Clement’s later story, Simon Magus posed a much greater threat to nascent Christianity during the reign of Nero (54–68 CE) and a magical feud was fought between Simon Magus and Peter, culminating in the sorcerer’s death. In this story Clement’s father was called either Faustus or Faustinianus and his two brothers Faustinus and Faustinianus or Faustus.5 The brothers play little part, but the father Faustus/inianus takes on the semblance of Simon Magus to be first used by Simon Magus against his enemies and then by Peter to discredit the real Simon Magus.
Given their relative obscurity, it is unlikely that Faustus Junior thought he descended from either of the first two Roman families or saw them as in some way his spiritual or intellectual ancestors. Clement’s father Faustus/inianus is more interesting because he links Faustus Junior with the Simon Magus story. However, Faustus/inianus is both Simon Magus and not Simon Magus; he has his appearance but is not the man himself, he both helps Simon Magus and speaks against him on behalf of Peter. If Faustus wanted to link himself directly with Simon Magus through the use of ‘Faustus’ this would have been a confusing nomenclature to employ.
There was also a Faustus the Manichæan. We know of him through Augustine of Hippo (354–430), reformed profligate and Christian saint, who mentioned his acquaintance with him in Confessions and vigorously denounced him in his Reply to Faustus the Manichæan written around 400 CE. During the 470s a certain Faustus, Bishop of Riez, was embroiled in theological controversy. But neither are serious contenders. The young Georgius’s imagination was surely uninspired by these dead heresies and captured by something else entirely.
In 1496 one of the most popular pieces of Renaissance pastoral poetry, known widely in Germany and elsewhere, was published. The so-called Bucoliques had been written by an Italian Humanist called Publius Faustus Andrelinus (1462–1518). Andrelinus had early made a reputation for himself as professor of rhetoric and poetry since taking up his post in Paris in 1489 where a number of students from Germany had attended his lectures. Andrelinus could also count among his personal friends such influential figures as Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam (c.1466–1536), the Renaissance Humanist par excellence. He also lectured on astrologia (i.e. both astronomy and astrology in our uses of the words), publishing a treatise on the influence of the stars in Paris in 1496.
That there was a well-known Humanist using this name at this time makes this a simpler and more obvious derivation. Faustus Junior could draw upon Andrelinus’s reputation as a Humanist and as an astrologer, something that would be important to him in his future career. It was all the more necessary to adopt the sobriquet ‘Junior’ because in 1507 when this form is recorded – the only time it is recorded – Faustus ‘Senior’, that is, Andrelinus, was still alive.
According to Trithemius’s letter, Faustus also called himself Sabellicus. As with the name ‘Faustus’, people have looked to place names, titles and previous holders of the name to unravel the mystery. The most common explanation is that it is derived from the Sabine Hills in Italy because of its associations with witchcraft for the ancient Romans. The usual interpretat
ion is wrong.
There was another Sabellicus. The Humanist Marcantonio (or Marco Antonio) Coccio (1436–1506), adopted Sabellicus as a nom de plume derived from his place or region of birth. Remembered now for his histories, he was in his day also known as an editor of classical works. It is unlikely that he intended to conjure up images of Sabine sorcery. Sabellicus would certainly have been known in German intellectual circles. The influential and much-feted German Humanist Conrad Celtis (also Celtes, 1459–1508) met him in Venice in 1486 and many of his works were in new editions in the sixteenth century – Trithemius even owned one of them.
Digging deeper into Sabellicus’s life we discover an interesting association in his past. Together with the Humanists Julius Pomponius Laetus (1425–1498) and Bartolomeo Platina (1421–1481), the future librarian of the Vatican, Sabellicus was involved in the foundation of a semi-pagan academy in Rome around 1457. Laetus had just succeeded the controversial Laurentius Valla – indicted seducer, pederast, and opponent of Christian morality – as professor of eloquence at the Gymnasium Romanum and gathered round him fellow spirits to adopt Greek and Latin names, meet on the Quirinal to discuss classical questions and celebrate the birthday of Romulus and the foundation of Rome. The academy’s constitution was similar to that of a priestly college in ancient Rome, and Laetus accordingly styled himself pontifex maximus.
Sensing heresy, republicanism and paganism in the activities of the academy, Pope Paul II moved to crush it. Laetus, Platina and the others were imprisoned and tortured in the castle of Sant’ Angelo. Sabellicus escaped and went on to become prefect of the Library of San Marco in Venice. Here is a much more attractive figure to an aspiring young magus. If Faustus chose the name of one well-known Humanist as one of his sobriquets, it makes it all the more likely that he chose the other on the same grounds. Interestingly, Andrelinus was also a student of Laetus, making Faustus’s choice of both of these names more than just coincidence, since both lead to the very roots of the Humanist movement.
The name Faustus gave himself was a Renaissance code. He used the terms ‘Sabellicus’ and ‘Faustus’ because they would arouse certain associations in his audience and that audience was undoubtedly intended to be an educated one – even if that was not always the case. He used a Latin form that immediately connected him with the Humanists and the practice established by the Gymnasium Romanum. His choosing Sabellicus and Faustus specifically associated him with the former’s role in a pagan revival and the latter’s influential work on astrology – one was a mystic and the other an occultist.
Faustus Junior wished to present himself to the world as a Humanist philosopher with mystico-magical trappings. By associating himself with the distinguished Humanists, Faustus Junior could display his own learning as well as evoke that of the others. He could also lessen some of the stigma attached to his other advertised accomplishments by laying claim to a respectable academic pedigree.
A Mysterious Birth
The man who called himself Georgius Sabellicus Faustus Junior was born in the late fifteenth century, of that almost everyone is agreed. As to when exactly is a more contentious issue. It comes as no surprise that there are a number of wildly differing opinions as to the exact date. Depending on whom one reads, we find the years 1465– 1468, 1478, 1480, 1490 and 1491 – covering a span of just over a quarter of a century.6 As to where he was born, at least six different locations have been forwarded.
The most compelling evidence as to when he was born comes from Faustus’s own name and comments attributed to him. Little can be learnt from his various assumed titles, but his first name gives us an important clue. Georgius (Georg or George) is also the name of a saint, which takes on added significance when we realise that it was common practice at the time to name a child after the saint’s day on which it was born. In the Christian calendar the feast day of St George is held on 23 April. In the fifteenth century this festival rivalled Christmas in its popularity, and it is therefore probable that Faustus was born on 23 April.
Some years later, Kilian Leib (who shall be discussed in detail later) recorded a statement apparently made by Faustus himself that gave some clue as to the year of his birth. Faustus did not directly refer to his birthdate, but made an astrological remark upon the type of people born at a particular time and the man who recorded it thought that Faustus was also talking about himself. The astrological reference suggests that Faustus was born when the Sun and Jupiter were conjunct in the sign of Taurus. This took place three times on 23 April in the late fifteenth century: in 1466, 1478 and 1490.
He could not have been born in 1490 because of the extent of the claims he is reported to have made in 1506 when he would only have been sixteen. That leaves only 1466 and 1478. The average life expectancy of those who survived childhood was fifty-seven.7 Therefore, someone born in 1466 would, on average, have been expected to live only until 1524, whilst someone born in 1478 would have been expected to live until 1536. Of course there were exceptions: Erasmus was born in 1466 and lived until 1536, and the Greek scholar Andreas Johannes Lascaris (1445–1535) lived to the age of ninety.
The first report of Faustus’s death was published in 1539 and we have documented references that he was still alive after 1524. If he had been born in 1478 he would have been around fifty-eight when he died. If he had been born in 1466 he would have been around seventy. The age of fifty-eight is closer to the average, but, according to the semi-historical Zimmerische Chronik, Faustus was reputed to have lived to a great age.
We would also expect that if Faustus had been born in 1466, then there would have been more references to him, especially before 1507. There are earlier references, long overlooked because they do not use the name Faustus, but the real name of the man who would later adopt that title. First, however, to answer the question of when he was born we must first discover where he was born, for, as we shall see, the one explains the other.
The birthplace of Faustus is hotly contested. Civic pride is at stake here as well as tourist revenues. To try and find the answer I looked through the sixteenth-century texts making reference to Faustus.8 Running my finger across the densely printed black letter script, I found that of these only fifteen made any mention of where Faustus came from. Eight authors mentioned Kundling (or some variation of the name), one said ‘helmstet’, another said ‘Helmitheus Hedelbergensis’, one mentioned Heidelberg and a document of 1509 indicated Simmern. We can immediately discount the latter – it is a false identification with an unrelated student of Heidelberg called Johannes Faust from Simmern (Kreisstadt Simmern-Hunsrück since 1966), but we are still left with too many options.
Faced with this confusion the Faustbooks had their own answer. The Wolfenbüttel Manuscript of around 1580 and Spies’s Historia of 1587 gave ‘Rod’ and P.F. in his 1592 translation of Spies – and Marlowe after him – said the town was called ‘Rhode’. In 1599 Widmann gave the name of a market town called Sondwedel in Anhalt, identified as Salzwedel in today’s Saxony-Anhalt,9 but we can dismiss this because of its late date, Widmann’s general unreliability, and not least because he is alone in this opinion. While the references to a place called Kundling outnumber all the others, things are not as simple as they appear – with Faustus they never are.
A certain Roda – renamed Stadtroda in 1925 – lays claim to having once had within its environs the house where Faustus was born. The house was still standing until the late nineteenth century when, according to one unverified story, it was dismantled and sent to Chicago for the World Fair in 1893, and subsequently destroyed by fire.10 Today there is a small exhibition in the town’s museum where a depiction, which may or may not be accurate, of a modest two storey building is shown.
Despite the half-timbered evidence that may have once graced Stadtroda, we can largely discount the birthplace given in the legendary material of Wolfenbüttel, Spies, and P.F.’s English translation. These are not historical documents and differ sharply from the information given in those that are. Furtherm
ore, of all the many Rodas none of them can be proven to have been identified as the birthplace of Faustus prior to the appearance of the Wolfenbüttel Manuscript around 1580. It is not clear why the anonymous author of the Faustbook should have picked Roda, but the proliferation of Rodas may have been the target, since no one could easily check if what was said was true.
Karl Schottenloher, director of the Royal-Bavarian court and state library in Munich, did not believe that Roda was Faustus’s birthplace either. In 1913 he reconstructed a new location based on a close analysis of contemporary sources. Reading a journal entry written by Kilian Leib, the prior of Rebdorf Monastery, for July 1528, Schottenloher saw Faustus described as ‘helmstet’. However, Christian August Heumann had argued as early as 1742 that we should read the word as ‘Wirtebergensis’, meaning ‘from Württemberg’. At the risk of ruining my eyes, I closely scrutinised this inky sigil, painstakingly comparing each form to other letter shapes in Leib’s journal. I can now agree with Schottenloher: Leib wrote ‘helmstet’. But Schottenloher went further to interpret this as ‘helmstetensis’, meaning ‘from Helmstet’.
