At Augsburg,—and at Würzburg.
Augsburg, in the middle of the sixteenth century, had a fair claim
to be entitled the Athens of the North. Among the cities of Germany
it held a place similar to that occupied by Florence among those of
Italy. And in both instances the primacy attained in arts and letters
had depended on the fostering hand of successful commerce. That which
the Medici had done for Florence, the Fugger family had done for
Augsburg. The latter name has not at the present day the worldwide
celebrity of the former. But then the Fuggers never exalted themselves
to sovereignty on the ruin of their country; and flunkeydom has
accordingly less assiduously embalmed their memory.
In the sixteenth century, however, their name was celebrated throughout
Europe. Rabelais, writing from Rome to the Bishop of Maillezais in
the year 1536, tells him that Philip Strozzi was esteemed the richest
merchant in Christendom, with the sole exception of the Fuggers.
Charles V. was their guest when at Augsburg; and an anecdote has been
preserved of the fire in the imperial bedchamber under their roof
having been made of a faggot of cinnamon, lighted with an I. O. U.
of his majesty's to a large amount. It is true that the cinnamon may
probably have been the more costly part of the sacrifice. Towards the
end of the century Dominick Custos, an engraver of Antwerp, published
a magnificent folio volume of a hundred and twenty–seven portraits,
"Fuggerorum et Fuggerarum;" a somewhat cacophonous title, the strange
sound of which has amusingly caused the book to be classed in more than
one catalogue by un–historical bibliopoles among botanical works, under
the impression that the ladies and gentlemen of the great merchant
family were specimens of ferns.
When Olympia was at Augsburg, the heads of the family were the brothers
Anthony and Raymond Fugger. A contemporary[94] writer has left us a
curious account of the magnificence of their residence. He speaks of
the abundance of pictures by the great Italian masters; of a large
collection of portraits by Lucas Cranach; and especially of a most
extensive museum of antiquities,—mosaics and statues in bronze and
marble;—"all the divinities of Olympus, Jove with his thunderbolt,
Neptune with his trident, Pallas with her ægis." He mentions also a
collection of medals occupying one room. The number of fragments of
antique sculpture was wonderful. "We stood long in admiration before
a head of the God of Sleep, crowned with poppies, and having the eyes
closed. We saw several heads of Bacchus of colossal size, ornamented
with ivy and vine–leaves. We were told that these remains of antiquity
had been brought together from nearly every part of the world, but
chiefly from Greece and Sicily. For Raymond, though but very slightly
tinctured with learning himself—_litterarum minime expers_,—has so
great a love for antiquity, that he grudges no expense for the pleasure
of possessing these things; which indicates the truly noble and
generous character of the man." He possessed also, despite his want of
erudition, a library, of which the librarian, Jerome Wolff, declared in
Greek verse, that it contained more books than there were stars in the
heavens;[95] and he commissioned men who had the learning he wanted, to
compile a collection of ancient inscriptions, which was published in
folio at Ingoldstadt in 1534.[96]
It was to this munificent Raymond Fugger that Olympia had charged her
friend John Sinapi to present a volume of her verses. As they were of
course written in Greek or Latin, we must suppose, unless, indeed,
the "minime expers" of Rhenatus is to be very widely understood, that
the Augsburg Mæcenas could not read a word of them. Moreover, the
wealthy and worthy merchant would seem to have been far from coming
up to Olympia's standard in matters of religion. For the Fuggers were
among those to whom Charles committed the government of Augsburg,
when he turned out the old municipality; and all those so appointed,
we are told, swore to observe the papistical Interim. We are driven,
therefore, to the conclusion, that the religious world of the fifteenth
century was so totally dissimilar from that of the nineteenth, as not
to be extreme to mark the backslidings of men whose position, like that
of Raymond Fugger, put "so large a power for good" into their hands.
We have no means of knowing whether the presentation of the poems to
the great merchant was followed by any special result. But that the
reception of the wanderers at Augsburg generally was flattering and
satisfactory is recorded in a letter[97] from Olympia to Gregorio
Giraldi, the gouty old friend, now drawing very near his end, who used
to write verses to her in her girlhood. "We are still," she writes,
"with our excellent friend; and I am delighted with my stay here. I
pass my entire day in literary pursuits—me cum Musis delecto;—and have
no business to draw me away from them. I also apply myself to the study
of Holy Writ, which is so productive of peace and contentment. Nothing
can be more favourable than the reception my husband has met with in
this town. Our affairs are looking well, and, by God's help, will have
a happy issue."
A few months before the date of this letter, while Olympia was pining
on account of her husband's absence, she spoke in her dialogue with
Lavinia della Rovere, of her regrets at having "intoxicated herself
with the poison" of the classical writers. And now we find her again
"delighting herself with the Muses." The compatibility of classical
studies with a strictly Christian tone and habit of thought and
feeling, which many religionists have decided in the negative, seems
to have been mooted by Olympia, and by the advice of her learned and
devout friends affirmed. For in a letter to Curione written about this
time, she says that "since pious men approve it," she will continue her
classical studies and writings.
But it would seem, that these "delights with the Muses," however
classical, were henceforward for the most part religious in their
nature. For almost all that remains of her composition subsequent to
this period, with the exception of her letters, are translations from
the psalms into Greek verse. These her husband used to set to music,
and the singing of them would often form the evening amusement of their
little circle. One of these translations had been sent to Curione, who
was probably the chief of those pious friends who encouraged her to
continue to write. "I have read," he says, "the psalm that you have
translated into Greek, and I am delighted with it. I wish that you
would treat more of them in the same way. We should then have no cause
to envy the Greeks their Pindar. Persevere, then, my Olympia, in the
path to which the Muse invites you. Place upon your brow the sacred
laurel; for you have drawn your poetic inspiration from a purer fount
than Sappho of old."
[Sidenote: WITH GEORGE HERMANN.]
The stay of Grünthler, his wife, and their young brother under the
roof of George Hermann, was prolonged for several months. The tranquil
security of her life there, after all she had gone through during the
last two or three years, was extremely soothing and delightful to
Olympia. The hoped–for professor's chair was not yet found; but she
seems to have been in good hope that it soon would be. In the meantime
Grünthler had an opportunity of repaying in some measure the generous
hospitality he and his family were receiving. For George Hermann fell
seriously ill; and his guest had the pleasure of restoring him to
health before he left him.
It was while still at Augsburg that Olympia wrote[98] to her friend
Lavinia urging her to exert herself in every possible way to save the
life of Fannio.
"A thousand thanks," she writes, "for your promise to do all you can
in favour of Fannio. Nothing could give me greater pleasure; and I have
great hope of what may be done on the occasion of your leaving Ferrara;
for I am well aware how powerful is your interest at Rome. Besides, I
cannot doubt that the Duke would be willing to gratify you when you are
taking leave of him. Entreat him then, if he wishes to do you a favour,
to release an innocent man, whose long captivity would have more than
expiated his faults, had he been really criminal. That will be the
moment to speak, without losing sight of the dictates of prudence, what
your heart shall suggest to you.
"'Haud ignara mali miseris succurrere disces.'
Above all, I exhort you not to allow the malevolent representations of
designing men to influence your mind in matters pertaining to the pure
religion of Christ."
Olympia little understood yet the nature of the power against which
she hoped to prevail. How grimly Caraffa would have smiled at the
notion, that his prey could be thus taken from him. A Duke of Ferrara
release a convicted and relapsed heretic to pleasure a silly woman,
herself more than suspected of sympathy with his errors! Or that that
contemptible voluptuary at Rome, simoniacal usurper of Peter's keys,
dare to absolve him whom the Holy Inquisition has condemned! Not while
John Peter Caraffa keeps watch, as Inquisitor, over the interests of
the Church! As to the Duke, it would have been saying that his soul was
his own, contrary to all contract, and saying so in a most dangerous
and blasphemous manner. And had even indolent, easy–going Julius III.
dreamed of dipping the tips of his jewelled fingers in such troubled
waters, he would have found, as many a Pope has found, that powerful
as the _Servus Servorum_ might be while working in accordance with
the powers of the machinery of which he is a part, he was powerless
to stop the operation of it. Lavinia della Rovere, her sister–in–law
Maddalena Orsini, and the other generous and gentle souls, who dreamed
of attempting the absurd quixotism of speaking mercy to a Church in
danger, succeeded only in leaving to other and happier times a record,
still by no means unneeded, of womanly protest against priestly
intolerance.
[Sidenote: WITH JOHN SINAPI.]
In the same letter to Curione, in which Olympia speaks of her intention
not to give up her classical studies, she says that she and her
husband would willingly settle at Bâle if there were any prospect of
Grünthler's being able to obtain either medical practice or teaching
there. For still the future was all uncertain before them; and yet the
time was come when they determined on no longer trespassing on the
hospitality of their generous host. John Sinapi, now established as
physician to the prince–bishop at Würzburg, had pressed them to stay
awhile with him; and they accordingly removed from Augsburg to that
city. Sinapi had been the master of both husband and wife at Ferrara.
His wife, Francesca Bucyronia, had been Olympia's friend at court
there; and the reunion of the party, under circumstances so widely
different from all that surrounded them in Italy, must have brought
back many a recollection of those old times and brilliant scenes, which
every one of the party was so thankful to have exchanged for their
present pale, and sometimes difficult, northern life.
Sinapi and Francesca had several children. A niece, Bridget, also
lived with them; and in one of Olympia's letters of this time we find
a Leonora mentioned as one of the inmates of the family, and we get
a fleeting glimpse of the party gathered round the good physician's
hearth in the evening, with books and learned talk, while Leonora
taught the girls embroidery,—"docens ambas acu pingere."
The tenour of this quiet life was one day broken by an accident that
happened to the child Emilio. He fell from a high window to the ground
on some rough stones, and it was thought that he must be killed. He
was little hurt, however; and, as Olympia writes, "lives and is well,
to the great surprise of every one." But the incident is only worth
mentioning for the sake of Olympia's method of "improving" it. This
happened, she writes,[99] "that we might know by experience that God
hath given order to his angels to bear up his sons in their hands." And
again; "Thus God, who can raise up even the dead from the grave, is
wont to defend and preserve his own in safety."
It is painful to find one, for whose character we cannot but have the
warmest esteem, and with the feelings of whose heart we can always
sympathise, forming for herself such theories of the Divine government
of the world. How is it possible, we ask ourselves, that such a one
can have supposed the occurrences of life to be arranged by a constant
succession of miracles, so that there is no reason to anticipate
that similar causes will produce similar effects? How conceivable,
that an Olympia Morata should pronounce all those who fall, and _do_
break their bones, to be none of God's own? Her feelings towards her
fellow–creatures were assuredly not logically consistent with so
monstrous a theory of the Invisible. No! but the creed was held as a
creed of the brain; and not arrived at even by the brain by any process
of reasoning, but only by intellectual adoption of the theories of
others;—probably, even, to a great extent, of their phraseology only.
For the most entire sincerity is perfectly compatible with the use of
certain phrases imitatively adopted, and believed to be proper to be
said in certain conjunctures, the sense, bearing, and consequences of
which have never been realised or examined by those who use them.
[Sidenote: GOES TO SCHWEINFURTH.]
Olympia and her husband remained with John Sinapi, at Würzburg, till
the latter part of October, 1551. It was shortly after the accident
of Emilio, that Grünthler received an invitation from the senate of
his native town of Schweinfurth to settle himself as physician to the
garrison of Spanish soldiers quartered there by the Emperor, when he
himself went into winter quarters at Innspruck. Though this was not
exactly the kind of employment that he would have wished, yet the
proposal was acceptable as coming from his own fellow–citizens; and
he was not in a position to allow any opportunity of employment in
his profession to escape him. He accepted it. And Olympia, for the
first time, was about to find herself in a woman's best and happiest
position, a home of her own.
It was but an obscure one to which she was going. But her name was
already sufficiently well known in Germany to ensure her carrying
with her thither the interest of a large circle of the learned world,
especially of such as professed her own faith. There is an amusing
indication both of the celebrity her name had acquired, and of the
uncertainty, that a small distance could in those days throw over
facts of the simplest kind, in a letter written about this time by
Curione to one Xysto Betuleio, which has been already cited. Curione's
correspondent had written to him to ask if the name Olympia Morata
was in reality that of a living woman; because it was very generally
asserted to be a fictitious _nom–de–plume_,—"De Olympia nostra scribis
te certiorem fieri cupere, quod plerique fictum nomen arbitrantur." And
thereupon he proceeds to give that sketch of her career, which has been
before quoted.
In the brilliant springtide of Olympia's career, when she stood
before us in Grecian virgin guise, fooled to the top of her bent by
the applause and flattery of an entire city, with syntax–laws for a
rule of life, a knowledge of words in the place of all experience of
things, classicality for a _summum bonum_, and æsthetic appreciation of
the beautiful as sole means of satisfying every need and capacity for
worship, the question was suggested, shaping itself into the words so
familiar, and, howsoever diversely understood, most important to every
man,—How is this Olympia to be saved? And the question has been dwelt
on, because the peculiar interest attaching to her story is to be found
in the particularly well–marked development of the saving process,
whether as studied by those who, like herself, deem it to have been
accomplished by her adoption of a special creed, or by those who find
it in the working of her awakened moral nature. Both to the religionist
and the moralist Olympia is a specially "well–marked specimen;" and
both will concur in affirming that, whatever may have been the saving
influence, a very noble specimen of womanhood was the result.
[Sidenote: SAVED!]
Now, to one looking from the moral stand–point, it seems, as has
been said in a former chapter, that the question was satisfactorily
answered, when the course of our story had shown the heroine under the
successive influences of sorrow and adversity, of a true and devoted
love, and of the adoption of a persecuted faith, be it a true or
false one. And we have now reached the time when this discipline will
show its fruit in a "saved" life;—a life fitted to make its close the
starting–point of further progress.