# Imperial Dictionary of Universal Biography/Volume 3/Schiller, Johann Cristoph Friedrich

Excerpted from The Imperial Dictionary of Universal Biography, Volume 3, 1876 ed., page 916-918. (Ferrier's contributions to the Imperial Dictionary of Universal Biography were for for the edition published 1857-1863. That this is the subsequent edition of 1876 is evidenced in its mentioning later dates—including that of Ferrier's death in 1864.)
​SCHILLER, Johann Cristoph Friedrich, the greatest of German poets, if Göthe be excepted, was born in 1759 at Marbach, a small town of Würtemburg, on the banks of the Neckar. His father had been a surgeon, and afterwards an ensign and captain in the Bavarian army. Before Schiller was born he had retired from the service, but was still retained in the pay of the duke of Würtemburg as the layer-out and superintendent of his pleasure grounds at Ludwigsburg, and Solitude his principal country residence. Both the father and the mother of Schiller were persons of great probity and good sense; but it was from his mother more particularly, who was a woman of warm affections and deep piety, that he seems to have derived his poetical sensibility and taste. His early education was subject to frequent interruptions, owing to the migratory habits which the occupation of the father entailed upon the family. In his ninth year he was sent to school at Ludwigsburg, where the family were now settled; and whatever progress he may have made in scholarship, the following anecdote shows that he had begun, even thus early, "to muse on nature with a poet's eye." In his seventh year, having disappeared during a tremendous thunder-storm, he was found, after an anxious search, perched high on the bough of a tree, gazing at the tempestuous sky, in raptures with the beauty of the lightning, and eager "to see where it was coming from." He was at first destined for the clerical profession; but on the offer being made by the duke of Würtemburg to enrol him in the new school which he had established at Stuttgart, and from which theology was excluded, this design was abandoned, although not without reluctance on the part both of Schiller and his parents. At the Karls-schule at Stuttgart, which Schiller entered in his fourteenth year (1773), the troubles of his life began. As each pupil had to choose some special study with a view to his future profession, Schiller entered first upon the study of law, which he soon afterwards exchanged for that of medicine. Neither of these were very congenial callings; but he might, perhaps, have reconciled himself to them, had it not been for the chilling and repulsive formalism which pervaded the whole establishment. The school was regulated on principles of the most inflexible martinetism. "The process of teaching and living," says Carlyle, "was conducted with the stiff formality of military drilling; everything went on by statute and ordinance, there was no scope for the exercise of free will, no allowance for the varieties of original structure." Here Schiller spent six cheerless and vexatious years, fretting against a system which must have been irksome to all the inmates of this house of bondage, and irksome in a tenfold degree to a youth of his ardent and impetuous, and sensitive and independent temperament. He acquired, however, a sufficient knowledge of his profession, for in 1780 he was appointed by the duke of Würtemburg to the office of surgeon to a regiment. But the whole bent of his inclinations was towards literature, so that it is probable that even his regimental practice was little more than nominal, and that the quaint saying of Jean Paul was about to be fulfilled. "Schiller," said Jean Paul, "was educated for a surgeon; but fate said to him—'No, there are deeper sores than those of the body—heal thou the deeper!' So he became a poet and author." In fact, two years before this time, and while still a schoolboy, he had completed a drama, in which he poured forth the pent-up passions of his life, and which ere long was to burst upon the world like a thunderbolt. This was his celebrated tragedy of "The Robbers." "In that play," says Carlyle, "he wrenched asunder his fetters with a force which was felt at the extremities of Europe;" the sensation it excited spread through the mind of Germany, as Bulwer says, "like fire through flax." Symptoms which portended revolution had already appeared in the political atmosphere of nations; in many quarters a feeling prevailed that society and its institutions had become hollow, conventional, and antiquated. To these symptoms and feelings, "The Robbers" gave a shape and a voice, crude indeed, and exaggerated, but vivid, impassioned, awakening, and sympathetic. The piece was in the highest degree revolutionary; not that it was directly political, but it was a daring defiance of the artificial restraints of civilization—a glowing picture of free and wild life in the woods, led by a gang of young desperadoes who had thrown off the conventions of society, and were determined to live "according to the good old plan, that they should take who have the power, and they should keep who can." In a literary sense also it was highly revolutionary, inasmuch as it was founded on no foreign models, but was a genuine product of native German genius. As such it was hailed with very general acclamation. There can be no doubt that the inspiration of "The Robbers" is to be found in the restrictions by which Schiller was hampered in the Karls-schule at Stuttgart. This work was the rebound of his mind—the form in which his elastic spirit reacted against the cramping influences of the plan. But if this drama gave him fame, it also brought him into serious trouble. Though free from the trammels of school, he was not yet beyond the ducal jurisdiction. His play was published in 1781. It gave great offence to his patron, the duke, as inconsistent both with good taste and with ​the duties of a regimental surgeon. It was soon afterwards acted at Manheim, and Schiller was naturally present at the performance, although without leave. The duke caused him to be arrested, and he was imprisoned for fourteen days. How far this persecution might have been carried, it is impossible to say. But Schiller, fearing that he might be doomed to perpetual imprisonment, and having before his eyes the fate of the poet Schubert, who for offences as venial had pined for eight years in an Austrian dungeon, resolved to escape from the dominions of Würtemburg. He went first to Manheim, where he consolidated his acquaintance and his theatrical relations with Dalberg and Meir, the managers of the theatre there. But Manheim was too near Würtemburg to be a safe city of refuge, so he proceeded to Frankfort and Oggersheim. His faithful companion in these wanderings was a musical friend called Streicher, whose good humour and accomplishments helped to cheer the gloom of their situation. They could muster between them at the start, only about fifty florins (£5); and when these were expended, they were reduced to sore straits. In this crisis Streicher received some little assistance from his mother; and Schiller was invited by an old schoolfellow, Wilhelm von Wolzogen, to pay him a visit at Bauerbach, near Meinungen, where his mother, an admirer of the poet, resided. Here Schiller found an asylum; here he fell in love with the daughter of his hostess, Charlotte von Wolzogen, who, however, did not reciprocate his passion; and here he commenced the composition of two new dramas, "Fiesco " and "Cabal and Love." Meanwhile the anger of the duke of Würtemburg had subsided. Though passionate, he was not vindictive. He may have felt, too, that it would ill become him to persecute a man whom all Germany was uniting to honour. Accordingly an intimation was conveyed to Schiller that he might henceforth reside where he pleased; and as he at this time received a letter from Dalberg inviting him to Manheim, he took up his abode in that town, where he was appointed poet to the theatre, then the most celebrated in Germany.
Schiller settled at Manheim in 1783, and there he remained until 1785. During this period he acquired, through his connection with the theatre and intimacy with Meier and Dalberg, much insight into the means by which plays are best adapted for effective representation. He completed his tragedy of "Fiesco," which, although at first not so successful as the "Robbers," obtained, after a time, a large share of popularity. This was followed by "Cabal and Love," which was also very favourably received. Both of these tragedies are deeply impressive, and eminently original. They show a marked improvement in the author's taste and knowledge of human nature since the date of "The Robbers," for though they still somewhat overstep the propriety of nature, their exaggerations are less prominent than those of the earlier composition. The first of these plays has the advantage of being historical. It represents the conspiracy by which Fiesco, a man with many noble qualities, aims at the possession of the supreme power in Genoa, and how he falls by the hand of the bitter and bigoted patriot Verrina. The other drama, "Cabal and Love," is a tragedy of domestic life. Schiller's fame was now assured. But his was one of those minds which are ever struggling towards perfection, and ever animated by the desire to be serviceable to their fellow-creatures. He strove, therefore, incessantly to improve himself in dramatic art, and to render the theatre at Manheim the instrument of a high moral purpose. He may have overestimated the power and the influence of theatrical representation; but he thought that, like the school and the pulpit, it might be made an effectual agent in the work of national instruction and civilization. To this noble end he bent all his powers, during his residence at Manheim. Here he commenced "Don Carlos," a historical subject of the deepest tragical interest, and one on which he has expended the finest resources of his genius. In this play there are no traces of the immaturity which marked his earlier efforts At this time he was raised to the rank of councillor to the duchy of Weimar. In obtaining this title, which was a mere nominal dignity, his purpose no doubt was to strengthen his chance of securing some office, diplomatic, legal, or medical, which might yield him a less precarious livelihood than that which he was earning in the service of the muses. With this practical object in view, and being embroiled with the actors, who frequently refused to adopt his suggestions, he resolved to leave Manheim, and to betake himself to Leipsic, the great meeting-place of all the forces of the empire, intellectual, moral, and material.
Schiller took up his abode at Leipsic in 1785. He went thither, as has been said, with the view of obtaining, if possible, some employment less precarious in its returns than literature. He hoped through the influence of the duke of Weimar, who was interested in his fortunes, to procure some appointment either in law or in medicine. The chief motive which urged him to this has now to be told. While residing at Manheim he had fallen in love with Margaret Schwann, the daughter of a bookseller in that town. Margaret seems to have been a very attractive person, and in all respects worthy of the poet's affection and admiration. But the uncertainty of his position and prospects interposed, at present, an insuperable bar to their union. "A bookseller," as Bulwer remarks, "is generally the last person to choose, as his son-in-law, an author. He has seen too much of the vicissitudes of an author's life, and of the airy basis of an author's hopes in the future, to be flattered by the proposals of a suitor, who finds it easier to charm the world than to pay the butcher." Hence the elder Schwann had looked rather grave on the growing intimacy between Margaret and Schiller; and it was to overcome his scruples that the poet had bethought him of turning his abilities into a more practical channel. He now wrote a letter from Leipsic to the father of the lady, explaining his intentions and prospects, and making a formal proposal for her hand. But whether it was that the bookseller distrusted the business talents of the poet, or had misgivings on some other score, he refused his consent, and all intercourse between the parties was broken off. They met at Heidelberg many years afterwards, when Margaret was married to another man, and their emotion showed how deep and intense their early attachment had been. In consequence of this disappointment, Schiller gave up his intention of devoting himself to a professional calling; and in order by a change of scene to alleviate his distress, he removed to Dresden in the autumn of 1785.
At Dresden Schiller completed "Don Carlos," wrote "Philosophical letters between Julius and Raphael," and most of the poems which in his collected works are entitled "Poems of the second period." The "Poems of the first period" had been written some time before. It was while residing at Dresden that Schiller got entangled in an intimacy, that, had it not been timeously broken off, might have exercised a very sinister influence on his life and character. He met at Dresden an old acquaintance, Sophia Albrecht, who was now a celebrated actress. By her he was introduced to one who is described as "a young blue-eyed stranger named Julia." Julia resided with her mother, who was a widow of very questionable reputation. Julia was equally treacherous and designing, and her character was equally indifferent. But she so wove her meshes around the heart of the susceptible poet, and cast such a spell over his imagination, that it required all the entreaties of his friends, backed probably by some suspicion in his own mind of the fair lady's honesty, to induce him to dissolve the connection. The struggle between reason and passion was fierce, but the poet at last gave her up.
Dresden had no longer any attractions for the disenchanted lover. He resolved therefore to shift his residence to Weimar, which, though politically insignificant, was at this time the intellectual capital of Germany. Not to mention minor celebrities, here were to be found Göthe, Wieland, and Herder, assembled under the friendly patronage of the reigning duke and his amiable mother the Princess Amelia. In the adjacent town of Jena there were professors strong in philosophy and the sciences. Schiller came to Weimar in 1787; at first he was rather shy and constrained in his new position, but ere long he felt quite at home in a society which was polished without being stiff, and courtly without ceasing to be cordial. An event was now impending which was to make amends to him for his previous miscarriages in love. He made an excursion to Meinungen to visit his sister, who was married there. Here he fell in with his old friend Wilhelm von Wolzogen, with whom he paid a visit to Madame von Lengefeld at Rudolstadt. This lady had two interesting daughters, Caroline and Charlotte von Lengefeld. Schiller was won by the grace of Charlotte's manner and appearance, and by the amiability of her disposition; she had a strong sympathy with genius, so that they felt every day more and more convinced that they were fitted to make each other happy. But the poet's income was too scanty and precarious to enable them as yet to marry. Many, however, and happy were the visits which Schiller paid to Rudolstadt, and many and beautiful were the love-inspired poems which he wrote, during the three years of ​his courtship. At length he was appointed to the professorship of history in the university of Jena with a salary of two hundred rix-dollars. This income, combined with his other resources, seemed sufficient for the humble wishes of the happy pair, and they were united in 1790. For some years before Schiller had been deeply engaged in the study of history, in order that he might impart to his poetical creations a stronger air of reality, and also, perhaps, with a view to the chair which he was now summoned to fill. In 1788 he had published the "History of the Revolt of the Netherlands," an incomplete work. His "History of the Thirty Years' War" was published in 1791. Both of these works show that Schiller had a genius for fact, not much inferior to his genius for fiction. How he might have acquitted himself as a historical lecturer, we are not in a position to decide. His room was crowded, but his success seems to have been doubtful. But this must be considered, that his health broke down, and he had to remit the active duties of his calling before he had a sufficient trial, and before his preparations were complete. Schiller became seriously ill in 1791, and his health was never afterwards restored, although he continued during the remaining years of his life to work out his literary projects with an unabated ardour which no disease, but only death, could subdue. It was indeed, during these years of pain that his genius soared its noblest flights and executed its grandest achievements. Then were produced "Wallenstein" and "Mary Stuart," the "Maid of Orleans," the "Bride of Messina," and "Wilhelm Tell." The year 1797 is especially memorable in having witnessed the composition of the greater part of the "Poems of the third period." These pieces, the ballads in particular, are scarcely surpassed by any poetry in the world. It is interesting to remark how greatly superior the poems of this date are to those of the first and second period; for this shows how sedulously Schiller had cultivated his talents, and that the excellence of his writings was, perhaps, as much due to the steady training by which he had disciplined his mind, as it was to the great powers with which he had been endowed by nature.
From 1791 to 1799 Schiller resided principally at Jena, although incapacitated for the active duties of his professorship. The generous tribute of admiration which came to him from far Denmark must not be passed over without notice in this slight sketch of his life. Two Danish nobles, the Count Ernest von Schimmelmann, and the Prince Christian von Holstein Augustenburg, having heard of his illness, tendered to him, with expressions of enthusiastic esteem, a pension of a thousand dollars to last for three years, in order that no means which could bring back his health might be left untried. Such munificence, so kindly offered, the poet of course gratefully accepted. It enabled him to face work before which even he, with all his heroism, might otherwise have succumbed. The summer-house at Jena in which—during the watches of the night, and with a flask of Rhenish beside him "to cheer but not inebriate"—his finest tragedies were composed, is still shown, we believe, as an object of interest to travellers; and unless the people of Jena are Vandals, it is likely to be preserved for long as a national temple of the muses.
Schiller's latter years from 1799 to 1805 were, by the advice of his physicians, spent at Weimar. His intimacy with Göthe, how these two great minds acted and reacted on each other to their mutual advantage, how by their joint efforts they brought the art of theatrical representation to the highest pitch of perfection in this elegant little capital, are well known, and have been already recorded in this work.—(See Göthe.) In 1804 Schiller's malady, pulmonary consumption, increased. His last illness came on in April, 1805. He died on the 28th day of that month, with these words upon his lips, that "death could be no evil because it was universal, and that many things were now becoming plain and clear to him." His life has been written by Hoffmeister, Schwab, and Madame von Wolzogen; and in this country, by Carlyle and Sir E. Bulwer Lytton—J. F. F.