500 years of Latvian books: Gustav von Bergmann – a multifaceted Enlightenment man

To mark 500 years of books in Latvia in 2025, LSM is running a major series in collaboration with the Latvian National Library examining various aspects of national literary heritage. Each piece is written by a distinguished specialist and offers a fascinating insight into literary culture. You will find the original broadcast by Latvian Radio upon which this is based here.

More about the cycle of events can be discovered at https://www.gramatai500.lv/ and for more about the Latvian National Library and its constantly changing exhibitions and collections, visit: https://www.lnb.lv/.

Gustav von Bergmann – a multifaceted Enlightenment man

Ādaži (Aahof), Āraiši (Arrasch), Mazsalaca (Salisburg) and Rūjiena (Rujen) can be equally proud that the history of the region is inscribed with the personality of a bright and ambitious man of the Enlightenment – pastor and Freemason, writer and historian, polyglot and philologist, folklorist, naturalist, hunter, homeopath and successful home doctor-vaccinator, passionate book collector, book publisher and printer Gustav von Bergmann (1749–1814).

Bergmann came from a family of clergymen and physicians, and became a prominent clergyman and an outstanding member of the family of physicians. There are very few local pastors of German nationality who have been the subject of a study by a respected Latvian historian already during the period of Latvian Independence: the biographical work of Arveds Švābe (1888–1959) (typescript: Riga, 1942) was later turned into a monograph on Bergmanis, A Pastor’s Life (Stockholm, 1958).

The personality of Gustav, the son of the pastor of Ādaži parish, was formed during his theological studies in Germany (1763–1770). The young man was influenced by the intellectual circles and society of Leipzig and Weimar during the "age of geniuses".

After returning to his homeland, Bergmann took up duties in the pastorate. His first sermon was delivered in Riga, in St. James' Church, but his first parish was in Āraiši, in the Cēsis (Wenden) district, where Bergmann worked for nine years (1771–1780). In the ancient, simple log cabin by Lake Āraiši which served as the parsonage, the young pastor (he was in his early 20s) started his family, and here their first child of ten was born – a son, Benjamin Fürchtegot Balthasar Bergmann (1772–1856), who was later known as "Kalmyk Bergmann" because of his anthropological and linguistic interests, followed by four more children.

In Āraiši Bergmanis undertook to record the first chronological and illustrated Geschichte von Livland (History of Livland, Leipzig, 1776), part 2 of the book contains valuable information about the history of Livland’s parishes and pastors, while engravings based on drawings by J. Ch. Brotze (1742–1823) show many castle ruins, medieval memorial monuments of Livland, and also the author's home: the pastoral manor by Lake Āraiši, the island, overgrown with shrubbery, the castle ruins, inhabited by martens and stoats.

Bergmanis wrote in the publicity materials: "I have studied the old chronicles, both Latin and German. I have tried to give my readers an overview of the major changes in our province." He wants to "show the fate of people whom God guides as He pleases". Bergmann presents the course of history in a chronology as a set of events shaped by great personalities. Thus, he follows the tradition of writing universal history chronologically shaped by Jacques Bénigne Bossuet (1627–1704), the tutor of King Louis XIV of France, which is no longer a history of salvation from a theological point of view, as was the custom in the 15th–16th centuries.

The parish of Mazsalaca promised to be more lucrative; Bergmann spent five years there (1780–1785) and set up his own personal book printing press. The equipment and various typefaces for the press were supplied from Halle in 1782. Bergmann's venture soon benefited from the decree promulgated by Catherine II (01.15.1783), which liberally allowed anyone to set up a private printing press, without the need for a special permit.

In 1785 Bergmanis moved to Rūjiena, where he spent the next 29 years of his life. Books and hymn sheets are also printed in the Rūjiena pastor’s rectory – a log cabin with a thatched roof, which also had a desk and chair for the pastor. It is estimated, that in the Rūjiena pastor’s rectory texts were printed in 169 languages: it is here (in 1790) that Bergmann's Lord’s Prayer is published in 152 languages (169, in actual fact, including dialects), including Livonian. In 1805, the Rūjiena printing house printed a few sample pages from the legendary Livonian Rhymed Chronicle, the manuscript of which, dating back to the Middle Ages, came to be in the possession of Gustav Bergmann's brother Liborius and was prepared for publication.

Printing books became a favourite pastime for Bergmann, with pedagogical aims, as his sons also work together with their father in the Mazsalaca and Rūjiena log cabin printing house: "I have no other purpose than to bring joy to one of my sons, who assembled the letters before printing, and to give him the opportunity to experience deeply the feelings that the author has expressed with such sublimity." 

Benjamin was only 10 years old and had a passion for typesetting: in Mazsalaca in 1782, the boy is known to have typeset and printed Bergmann's funeral oration in memory of his newborn sister. At the age of 14, Bergmann's other son, Gustav Ambrosius Wilhelm (b. 1774) typeset a 16-page alphabet with the Lord’s Prayer and readings (1788); the boy was mentioned as the publisher on the title page of the book. Bergmann printed calendars and almanacs, books of advice, greeting poems to neighbours and relatives, fragments of literary works in German, Latin, French and English.

The meticulous work of typesetting is good for those who are learning foreign languages, and it teaches perseverance and diligence. Books and broadsides are meant for widening one's view of the world, understanding the diversity of the world, explaining the foundations of science.

The Rūjiena Almanac (1786-1788) is one such publication, and in its calendar many notable persons are mentioned, including clergymen (Luther, Melanchthon, Hus), book printers (Fust, Gutenberg, Mollinus), writers (Swift, Shakespeare), natural scientists (Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Newton, Leibniz, Haller, Linnaeus), travellers (Columbus, Drake who brought potatoes from America to Europe, Bacon), artists (Hogarth, Michelangelo) and Budberg, a neighbour of Ķieģeļmuiža (Kegeln Manor). Bergmann's books serve useful practical purposes, they contain advice on how to save people from drowning, how to get pain relief for headaches and toothaches, and a recipe for a calming powder for those possessed by the devil.

Bergmann published a total of approximately 160 different printed works: 11 were printed in Mazsalaca, 156 - in Rūjiena. For a few years (1798–1800) the printing house in Rūjiena was not operational, because according to the will of Paul I, Emperor of Russia, and the order of the censor, private printing houses were forbidden in Russia.

Bergmann’s library expanded; its Bible collection was very valuable; the catalogue he compiled and printed (1786) listed Bibles in 32 languages, 175 volumes in total. Bergmann purposely sought out Bible editions; in his advertisements asking for them to be offered to him for purchase. Bergmann's son sold his father's library to the University of Tartu (1837), and 761 volumes (1094 titles), including 5 incunabula and 109 Bibles, ended up there. However, not everything can be found in Tartu; many valuable books with Bergmann's ownership record are stored in the collections of both the University of Latvia and the Latvian National Library.

To view this resource, we need your consent to the use of cookies.

 

The story of the chopping down of sacrificial trees

 

In the fascinatingly varied field of Gustav Bergmann’s work, there is a remarkable episode that has in fact become folklorised, becoming one of the most widely known characteristic features of Bergmann, often overshadowing his other merits. It is the story of Bergmann’s role in the destruction of a Latvian shrine in the parish of Mazsalaca, in which Gustav Bergmann, the one who chopped down the sacrificial tree, is tainted by malice and hostility. The supposedly well-known event, however, has still not been described accurately. It is not known for sure when exactly the events took place and in which specific parish the sacrificial trees chopped down by Bergmann were located: there are several versions in the 20th century local history literature.

Time distance and broader cultural experience now allow a more impassive look at the event in order to understand the causal links and motivations that led Gustav Bergmann to do this. Two basic lines emerge in his stance against idolatry. First, it is clear that the worldview and convictions of an academically trained theologian and ordained pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran church are based on the basic Protestant doctrinal principle of "sola scriptura" (scripture only) in biblical theology. The strict stance against idolatry, superstition and paganism is already formulated in the first commandment: "I am the Lord, thy Lord; you shall have no other gods before me"; while the Old Testament book of Genesis regulates and outlines in detail the Christian's duties in the form of a law:

"Destroy, destroy all the places where the nations you will subdue have worshipped their gods high on the mountains and up on the hills and under every green tree. You shall tear down their altars and smash their sacred pillars, you shall burn their idol trees with fire and cut in pieces their idol images, and their names as place names shall be destroyed" (Deuteronomy 12:2-3).

Examples abound, one peculiar description of ancestor worship and sacrifice is recorded in the travel diary of the Dutch traveller Nicholas Witsen (1641–1717) on 21 June 1665. "On my way to Valmiera: I saw an old local peasant custom: they hang crosses in trees where their idols used to stand; the crosses are wrapped with red thread in memory of deceased women, and tied to the cross is a wisp of straw as big as the coffin in which the deceased had lain. They say they remember their dead every time they pass by these trees. These people are still closely connected with paganism. [...] At certain times of the year they bring offerings to the graves of the dead, chickens, wine, etc." It should also be noted that Bergmann was obliged to observe the ecclesiastical rules and regulations of the Swedish period in Livland (Kirchen Gesetz und Ordnung. 1st ed.: Riga, 1687, 2nd suppl. ed. Riga, 1709, new ed.: Mitau, 1796) that were still in force.

The ordinance of 2 November 1693, which expresses the will of the King of Sweden, addresses the idolatry that was still widespread in Livland: "Although sacrifices based on superstition are not only strictly forbidden by the laws of the land, and under orders to be combated earnestly, unfortunately it must be admitted that in many places one can find strange crosses, trees and other things, at which superstitious peasants place their offerings on feast or apostle days (i.e. Midsummer, or Jāņi, Mārtiņi celebrations): money, wax, yarn, and other items, and are involved in actions there that are partly superstitious, partly heretical. [.. ] By involvement is this sacrifice and other superstitious activities, whatever they may be, in churches, chapels, ditches, bushes, birch groves, trees, crosses, by roads, in fields, mountains, hills, rocks, rivers, streams, springs, and anywhere else, especially in unauthorised fairs on the Feast Days of the Apostles or at any other time, shall be strictly forbidden and punishable by exemplary punishment, and every owner of royal and private manors, especially clergy and various officials, are all instructed to discourage, restrain, prevent the ignorant peasants living in such darkness and destroy in every possible way the things, crosses, groves or bushes, trees, stones and the like used or sacrificed for damnable superstition and impiety, to be torn down, broken, burned with the offerings, and in every possible way eradicated that not even the smallest bits may be left which may be used for superstition in the future.".

The situation did not improve much in the century that followed. The rules of the general visitation of the Church of Livland in 1773, however, allow for a less severe approach towards the manifestation of superstition and witchcraft and call on the clergy to use rational and theological arguments to convince people of the absurdity of such activities, to discredit the healers and fortune-tellers, to expose their folly and delusions, and not merely to persecute, intimidate and punish, but "as for the places of sacrifice, they are to be forcibly destroyed as soon as news of them is obtained, and the people are to be convinced of the senselessness of such sacrifices" (1773).

Gustav Bergmann knew this well himself; his Latvian sermons and religious instruction, his German book introductions and exhortations contain indirect evidence of what he witnessed in his own congregations. While living in Āraiši Bergmann already knew of a stone cross built by monks from Catholic times, by which money was offered for the evil eye or toothache (1776).

For Bergmann, ancient idolatry is unacceptable not only because he was an ordained clergyman, he is also a modern thinker, an energetic enlightener of the people, a rationalist for whom superstition, sorcery, sacrifice are a sign of lack of education, proof of low intellectual capacity: "A peasant is a small, uneducated, spoilt child, capable of committing great crimes." (1792)

Bergmann mentions the manifestations of superstition quite often: "The locals claim nonsensical stories of sorcerers and various kinds of fortune-tellers, who can bewitch others with the help of the devil? Uneducated folk and fools, [...] they are so timid and afraid of sorcerers and clairvoyants [...]."

In the third edition of his book of religious instruction he included a new test question which he proceeded to answer himself: "Are leafy trees, rocks, and hillocks to be held as sacred, and is it fitting to sacrifice to such gods? And those people who do so […] And similarly: "Have you not been told that God created us, gave us our soul and our life, and that he himself is our provider. Is a flower, a piece of yarn, a bundle of salt of more worth to you than God?" (1795).

Bergmann, in his own words, "followed the peasant into his hut, knew his weaknesses well, knew the peasant's character, his unique way of thinking" (1792) and knew how to "read the thoughts in their heads". Bergmann always wanted his work to be transformative and hoped that books would ”awaken the peasant from his habitual drowsiness and inherited lack of motivation, divert him from prejudice, free him from superstition, and educate him to become a man“ (1792); he wished the next reader "that this book may communicate sweetly with you and your children's children in my place" (1795).

The pastor had won the confidence of his congregation; there is no doubt that Bergmann's admonition "he who respects idols respects the image of the devil himself" (1795) and the exhortation "fear not sorcerers, the sorcerer or devil does not rule this world, but God on high" (1795) were spoken with conviction from the pulpit numerous times and had been heard before the sermons in the book were published.

Firstly, about the time and place of the event. There would be no question if Bergmann had recorded the story of the destruction of the sacrifice site in a church book or metrical records, where many pastors quite often recorded important events in the life of the congregation.

However, the church book in question has not survived, and there are only a few written sources that can give a more or less reliable account of the event. The first one to be mentioned is a report signed by Gustav Bergmann on 12 September 1784, in which, in response to questions sent to him, topographical and statistical information about the parish of Mazsalaca was provided to the administrative authorities of Livland. It is evident that Bergmann's report of reply had several versions, the story of the destruction of the sacrifice site was in one manuscript, the original of which seems to have been lost to contemporary researchers. Although the text was published in the Bergmann Family History (1896) and preserved in Arveds Švābe's typescript (1942), it is worth quoting its translation in full.

The story of the destruction of the sacred tree is recounted in the answer to question 16 on the religious affiliation of the inhabitants. Bergmann writes: "Almost all the inhabitants profess the Evangelical Lutheran faith. Rare and strange customs are almost non-existent. However, some old, superstitious and simple-minded peasants are in the habit of fencing in an old tree or the remains of a burnt-out house and placing offerings to the Earth Mother – colostrum, butter, chickens, sometimes, most of all on St George's Day, a black rooster. These sacrifices are considered very sacred, if someone does something to them – jumps over the fence, pulls the plough over them, breaks a branch or wants to cut down a tree – they will have the threat of misfortune, a sudden death, or becoming blind and dumb. Despite all the efforts of pastors, this superstition has not disappeared, but is decreasing every day.

"When I heard of this nonsense, I preached a sermon the following Sunday on how people behave narrow-mindedly if they do not consider God powerful, benevolent, sanctifying and generous enough to acknowledge him alone, but, on the contrary, want to obtain blessing and success from a dead rock or tree, which has no language or understanding, thereby despising the true God and turns to sin, for which whole nations were once wiped off the face of the earth according to God's will. I repeat these warnings at every opportunity.

"Soon after, a farmer came and told me that he had to look after a sanctuary inherited from his parents; he left it after my warning, but his wife and servants reproach him every day that because of this misfortune will come upon his house and it will no longer be blessed. Moreover, following a missed sacrifice, the sacrificial rock disappeared, until, after persistent exhortations, he went to a sorcerer living a fair distance away, who then retrieved the rock from a remote marsh. As my sermon had stuck strongly in the mind of the peasant, he asked me to free him from this fear. I told the peasant not to be fearful and offered to visit his deity. As soon as I arrived at his home, I had him take me to a tree surrounded by an old, ramshackle fence. When I broke a hole in the fence and entered the sacrificial place, everyone present cried out and begged for mercy: I must protect my life.

"I told them that they had nothing to fear: if their god had not killed me immediately, I wanted to break his neck today. I picked up a few old shillings from the ground, examined the remarkable sacrificial rock that had returned from the swamp, examined some black feathers, ate some raspberries and asked if the peasants wanted to cut down the tree. The farmer said he would be happy for this to be done, but whoever is the first to cut it down would have to die. I asked him to give me an axe and then, when I was tired of chopping, I told him to give me some fire and set the tree on fire. Now the owner was quite happy, and the others went home ashamed."

As an aside, the odes and poems of Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock (1724-1803), the forerunner of the age of storms and storm, were very influential in German society at the time, and became a catalyst for German national identity. Klopstock replaced the repertoire of antique heroes and gods typical of Baroque lyric poetry with lyrical narratives about ancient Germanic and Celtic heroes, high priests - druids, songsters - bards, influenced by Ossian's poems, and the oak - symbol of the German and German spirit - is a key image in Klopstock's poetry: 'You resemble a great oak, oh, Fatherland' (1769).

Bergmann, a passionate bibliophile, could not have been ignorant of Klopstock's works, but the patriotic pathos of pre-Christian druids and oaks had made no impression on Pastor Bergmann; paganism and idolatry were fundamentally unacceptable to him. Although Bergmanis was seriously interested in Latvian folklore and sent J. G. Herder (1744-1803), it was much more important for him to achieve a deep and conscious penetration of Christian values into the congregation.

An interesting addition can be found in a source that is quite unusual for later cultural history. The book on the oaks of Livland (1824) by the forester, dendrologist and artist Andreas von Loewis of Menar (1777-1839) contains a description of the destruction of the sacrificial trees in question, which the author says was based on his own experience. This is understandable, since von Loewis of Menar’s grandfather and uncle were the owners of the Pantene Manor (Panten) in the Mazsalaca (Sissegal) parish, neighbours and good acquaintances of Bergmann. It is true that the names and place names are delicately omitted, the story is about a parish in Valmiera (Wolmar) County near the Estonian border, but it is clear that Menar used some information preserved by Gustav Bergmann and his son, as well as his own memories, since this is a story that von Loewis of Menar had heard so often as a child. At the time of the book's composition, Menar wrote a letter (1822) to Gustav Bergmann's son Benjamin, asking him to see if his father had left any notes about the carving of the sacrificial altar. It is therefore possible to learn a little more about the event.

Von Loewis of Menar's account differs slightly from Bergmann's own, but it is believed to be quite reliable and has not been substantially improved. It is about a number of peasants whose houses were remote, included in the woods, and who had their own sacrificial places made up of well-grown trees and stones. The peasants had been influenced by the sermons of a "very popular pastor who had gained unquestionable trust in word and deed" (namely Gustav Bergmann), and of their own free will the peasants had sought the pastor out to ask for help in destroying the sacrificial places, as they themselves did not yet dare to touch the sacred trees. The pastor went to the designated places, and was the first to cut an axe into each of the trees, then the Latvians cut them down without thinking.

However, the peasants did not take the trees to their homes, but after obtaining permission, they took the trees to the pastorate where they were used. Fortunately, because of these trees, nothing bad happened during the winter, as the peasants had imagined and feared. This example had consequences: most of the sacrificial places in the area disappeared" (1822).

The oak connoisseur von Loewis on Menar once wrote extensively about the remarkable oak forests that grew in northern Livland, on the Valmiera side, in Mazsalaca and Rūjiena in ancient times. There are still some noble oaks, but in the depths of the forests one can still find the sites of formerly cultivated but long-vanished houses marked by large trees or stones.

Taken together, the stories and descriptions suggest that the sacrifice site described by Bergmann (a single tree, or rather a group of trees) was located in the forested and marshy parish of Mazsalaca, which at that time had 305 farmsteads, presumably closer to Estonia, near some isolated or wooded houses. The once carefully guarded sacred trees (it is not clear whether they were really oaks) were destroyed in midsummer when the raspberries were ripe. This happened between 20 September 1780, when Bergmann gave the first sermon in the church in Mazsalaca, and March 1785, when the Bergmann family left Mazsalaca. It must be understood that Bergmann, being a clergyman and an enlightener of the people at the same time, could not and should not have done otherwise.

In Livland at the end of the 18th century, the influence and authority of a modern-minded, comprehensively educated, benevolent but strict pastor was so great that peasants were able to reassess ancient beliefs and customs, to overcome suspicions and fears. The spoken and written word played an important role.

A significant Latin poem was pinned above the door of Gustav Bergmann's hermitage in Rūjiena. These are words from the famous eulogy of the medieval bibliophile, bishop and chancellor of England, Richard Aungerville or Richard of Bury (1287-1345), the treatise Philobiblion or the Love of Books (1344):

Hi sunt magistri qui nos instruunt
Sine virgis et ferula
Sine verbis et cholera
Sine pane et pecunia
Si accedis non dormiunt
Si inquiris non se abscondunt
Non remurmurant si oberres
Cachinnos nesciunt si ignores.

Translation:

They are the teachers who teach us
Without rods and sticks,
Without words and anger,
Without bread and money,
If you approach, they will not sleep,
If you ask, they do not hide,
They do not whine if you run,
They do not mock if you do not know.

(Richard of Berea, Philobiblion, 1, 9). 

The words of the English bibliophile must have formed the hierarchy of values of the Livland pastor Bergmanis and become his motto. As the archaic, irrational superstition that Bergmann had fought against was fading, the foundations of a worldview based on education and knowledge were being laid.

Seen a mistake?

Select text and press Ctrl+Enter to send a suggested correction to the editor

Select text and press Report a mistake to send a suggested correction to the editor

Related articles

More

Most important