us,” Irma Lawler acknowledged. She studied Maria. “You’re the Dutch gal who’s boarding with Miriam’s daughter?”
“That’s right.”
“Edna and I know Miriam from the Garden Club. So you want to buy a few seeds?”
“A lot, actually.” Maria took a deep breath. “Probably some of every variety you have, if that’s possible.”
Irma looked at Edna, then back at Maria. “Well, now. That sounds like a lot of business, and we can use the money. But some of the varieties are getting a bit scarce. We give them to you before we grow any more, and other people will have to go without. For a long time; it’s not like we can just order more out of a catalog.”
“Why do you want so many seeds, girl?” asked Edna.
“It is for the Hortus Botanicus , in Leiden. It’s the botanical garden of the University of Leiden; my brother Adolph is in charge. As was our father before him. The medical students use the garden to learn the herbs used in medicine, and scholars come from all over Europe to study its many botanical curiosities. Those are exotic plants, sent to us by the Dutch East India Company, or by other gardens.”
“And you send plants to the other gardens, too?”
“Yes, we trade.”
“Well, why don’t we compare inventories? We’d like to expand our own collection.”
* * *
Maria saw her friend Prudentia Gentileschi leaving the Nobili house, and waved. Prudentia was the daughter of the world-famous artist Artemisia Gentileschi, an up-and-coming artist in her own right, and a part-time assistant in the middle school and high school art classes.
“Prudentia!” Maria crossed the street and joined her. “On your way to class?” Prudentia nodded.
“I’ll walk you there, if you don’t mind. Shall we take the scenic route?”
They walked a bit, in companionable silence, then Prudentia spoke up. “So what’s new, Maria?”
“I got a letter from my brother.”
“You don’t sound happy about it. Is there bad news?”
Maria sighed. “Nothing like that. He’s fine, his wife Catarina is fine . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“It’s just that he’s so lazy. So smug. So uncomprehending of all his advantages, denied to those of our sex. So—”
“So male .”
“A decade ago, he and cousin Gijsbert got to go on a grand tour, see England, France, and Italy. Whereas I thought myself lucky to visit Amsterdam, or Delft. And, in Italy, they studied at the famous University of Padua. While I made do with academy classes and language tutors. And puttered about in the garden with Papa, of course.”
Maria shook her head. “Adolph came home in 1623, and, the next year, he was appointed professor extraordinary of medicine, with a salary of six hundred guilders a year. In 1625, when Father died, he became curator of the Hortus Botanicus. Did he continue to recruit departing ship captains to bring home exotic plants, as Papa did? No, he was content to administer potions to rich merchants, and flirt with their daughters.”
“Catarina was the last of those daughters, I hope.”
Maria nodded. “Then the curators of Leiden University told him he needed to . . . what is the American term? ‘Publish or Perish.’ So he produced a catalog of the plants in the garden.”
“That’s the one you illustrated, is it not?”
“Yes. Elzevier will be publishing it. Next year, I hope. Anyway, that was his big chance to honor our father’s work. But Adolph did the minimum work possible, contenting himself with the garden inventory. I prepared the list of 289 wild plants. Limited to the vicinity of Leiden, of course, because I didn’t get to travel to anyplace exotic, unlike Adolph.”
Prudentia gave Maria a quick hug. “None of what you have told me would have seemed at all surprising before we came to Grantville,”
“That’s true.”
“So what’s in the letter?”
“Complaints. The students are complaining that he doesn’t spend enough time with them, don’t they realize he is a busy
“That’s right.”
“Edna and I know Miriam from the Garden Club. So you want to buy a few seeds?”
“A lot, actually.” Maria took a deep breath. “Probably some of every variety you have, if that’s possible.”
Irma looked at Edna, then back at Maria. “Well, now. That sounds like a lot of business, and we can use the money. But some of the varieties are getting a bit scarce. We give them to you before we grow any more, and other people will have to go without. For a long time; it’s not like we can just order more out of a catalog.”
“Why do you want so many seeds, girl?” asked Edna.
“It is for the Hortus Botanicus , in Leiden. It’s the botanical garden of the University of Leiden; my brother Adolph is in charge. As was our father before him. The medical students use the garden to learn the herbs used in medicine, and scholars come from all over Europe to study its many botanical curiosities. Those are exotic plants, sent to us by the Dutch East India Company, or by other gardens.”
“And you send plants to the other gardens, too?”
“Yes, we trade.”
“Well, why don’t we compare inventories? We’d like to expand our own collection.”
* * *
Maria saw her friend Prudentia Gentileschi leaving the Nobili house, and waved. Prudentia was the daughter of the world-famous artist Artemisia Gentileschi, an up-and-coming artist in her own right, and a part-time assistant in the middle school and high school art classes.
“Prudentia!” Maria crossed the street and joined her. “On your way to class?” Prudentia nodded.
“I’ll walk you there, if you don’t mind. Shall we take the scenic route?”
They walked a bit, in companionable silence, then Prudentia spoke up. “So what’s new, Maria?”
“I got a letter from my brother.”
“You don’t sound happy about it. Is there bad news?”
Maria sighed. “Nothing like that. He’s fine, his wife Catarina is fine . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“It’s just that he’s so lazy. So smug. So uncomprehending of all his advantages, denied to those of our sex. So—”
“So male .”
“A decade ago, he and cousin Gijsbert got to go on a grand tour, see England, France, and Italy. Whereas I thought myself lucky to visit Amsterdam, or Delft. And, in Italy, they studied at the famous University of Padua. While I made do with academy classes and language tutors. And puttered about in the garden with Papa, of course.”
Maria shook her head. “Adolph came home in 1623, and, the next year, he was appointed professor extraordinary of medicine, with a salary of six hundred guilders a year. In 1625, when Father died, he became curator of the Hortus Botanicus. Did he continue to recruit departing ship captains to bring home exotic plants, as Papa did? No, he was content to administer potions to rich merchants, and flirt with their daughters.”
“Catarina was the last of those daughters, I hope.”
Maria nodded. “Then the curators of Leiden University told him he needed to . . . what is the American term? ‘Publish or Perish.’ So he produced a catalog of the plants in the garden.”
“That’s the one you illustrated, is it not?”
“Yes. Elzevier will be publishing it. Next year, I hope. Anyway, that was his big chance to honor our father’s work. But Adolph did the minimum work possible, contenting himself with the garden inventory. I prepared the list of 289 wild plants. Limited to the vicinity of Leiden, of course, because I didn’t get to travel to anyplace exotic, unlike Adolph.”
Prudentia gave Maria a quick hug. “None of what you have told me would have seemed at all surprising before we came to Grantville,”
“That’s true.”
“So what’s in the letter?”
“Complaints. The students are complaining that he doesn’t spend enough time with them, don’t they realize he is a busy
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